The Underground Railroad
day arrived for committing his remains to the grave the evidence of deep
and pervading sorrow among these wronged and outraged people was
strikingly apparent.
Thousands, whose serious deportment and dejected countenances evinced
that they were fully sensible of their loss, collected in the vicinity
of his dwelling, anxious to testify their respect for his memory. Theirs
was not the gaze of the indifferent crowd, which clusters around the
abodes of fashion and splendor, to witness the pomp and circumstance
attendant on the interment of the haughty or the rich. It was a solemn
gathering, brought together by the impulse of feeling, to mingle their
tears and lamentations at the grave of one whom they had loved and
revered as a protector and a friend.
When the hearse arrived at the quiet burial place in Arch street, where
the Friends for many generations have buried their dead, six colored men
carried the body to its last resting-place, and the silent tear of the
son of Africa over the grave of his zealous friend, was more expressive
of real affection than all the parade which is sometimes brought so
ostentatiously before the public eye. In the expressive words of the
leading newspaper of the day, "Aaron Burr was lately buried with the
honors of war. Thomas Shipley was buried with the honors of peace. Let
the reflecting mind pause in the honorable contrast."
As a public speaker Thomas Shipley was clear, cogent, sometimes
eloquent, and always impressive. He never attempted oratorical effect,
or studied harangues. He generally spoke extemporaneously, on the spur
of the occasion, and what he said came warm from the heart. It was the
simple and unadorned expression of his sentiments and feelings. He was,
however, argumentative and even logical, when the occasion required it.
When intensely interested, his eye was full of deep and piercing
expression.
Although his education had been limited, and his pursuits afforded him
but little leisure time, yet he indulged his fondness for reading, and
exhibited a refined literary taste in his selections. He has left
amongst his books and papers eight manuscript volumes of about one
hundred and fifty pages each, filled with selections, copied in his own
handwriting, and culled from the writings of many of the most gifted
authors, both in poetry and prose.
These extracts are generally of a moral and religious caste, and include
scraps from Young, Milton, Addison, Burns, Cowper, Watts, Akenside,
Pope, Byron, Hemans, and many others.
In the domestic and social circle, his conversation was animated and
instructive, and always tempered by that kindness and amenity of manners
which endeared him to his family and friends.
He was no bigot in religion. While a firm believer in the doctrines of
the Gospel as maintained by the orthodox Society of Friends, he yet held
that religion was an operative principle producing the fruits of
righteousness and peace, in all of whatever name, who are sincere
followers of our Lord Jesus Christ. In conclusion we may add, that more
than most men he bore about with him the sentiment of that old Roman,
"Nihil humanum alienum a me puto," while he added to it the higher
thought of the Christian, that he who loveth God loveth his brother
also. We need not dwell upon the life of such a man. To-day, after the
lapse of more than a generation, his memory is fresh and green in the
hearts of those who knew him, and who still survive to hand down to
their children the story of the trials of that eventful period in our
history.
_To the Memory of_
THOMAS SHIPLEY,
President of the Pennsylvania Abolition Society,
Who died on the 17th of Ninth mo., 1836, a devoted Christian and
Philanthropist.
BY JOHN G. WHITTIER.
Gone to thy Heavenly Father's rest--
The flowers of Eden round thee blowing!
And, on thine ear, the murmurs blest
Of Shiloah's waters softly flowing!
Beneath that tree of life which gives
To all the earth its healing leaves--
In the white robe of angels clad,
And wandering by that sacred river,
Whose streams of holiness make glad
The city of our God forever!
Gentlest of spirits!--not for thee
Our tears are shed, our sighs are given:
Why mourn to know thou art a free
Partaker of the joys of Heaven?
Finished thy work, and kept thy faith
In Christian firmness unto death--
And beautiful as sky and earth,
When Autumn's sun is downward going,
The blessed memory of thy worth
Around thy place of slumber glowing!
But, wo for us I--who linger still
With feebler strength and hearts less lowly,
And minds less steadfast to the will
Of Him, whose every work is holy!
For not like thine, is crucified
The spirit of our human pride:
And at the bondman's tale of woe,
And for the outcast and forsaken,
Not warm like thine, but cold and slow,
Our weaker sympathies awaken!
Darkly upon our struggling way
The storm of human hate is sweeping;
Hunted and branded, and a prey,
Our watch amidst the darkness keeping!
Oh! for that hidden strength which can
Nerve unto death the inner man!
Oh--for thy spirit tried and true
And constant in the hour of trial--
Prepared to suffer or to do
In meekness and in self-denial.
Oh, for that spirit meek and mild,
Derided, spurned, yet uncomplaining--
By man deserted and reviled,
Yet faithful to its trust remaining.
Still prompt and resolute to save
From scourge and chain the hunted slave!
Unwavering in the truth's defence
E'en where the fires of hate are burning,
The unquailing eye of innocence
Alone upon the oppressor turning!
Oh, loved of thousands! to thy grave,
Sorrowing of heart, thy brethren bore thee!
The poor man and the rescued slave
Wept as the broken earth closed o'er thee--
And grateful tears, like summer rain,
Quickened its dying grass again!--
And there, as to some pilgrim shrine,
Shall come the outcast and the lowly,
Of gentle deeds and words of thine
Recalling memories sweet and holy!
Oh, for the death the righteous die!
An end, like Autumn's day declining,
On human hearts, as on the sky,
With holier, tenderer beauty shining!
As to the parting soul were given
The radiance of an opening heaven!
As if that pure and blessed light
From off the eternal altar flowing,
Were bathing in its upward flight
The spirit to its worship going!
ROBERT PURVIS
Was born in Charleston, S.C. on the 4th day of August, 1810. His father,
William Purvis, was a native of Ross county, in Northumberland, England.
His mother was a free-born woman, of Charleston. His maternal
grandmother was a Moor; and her father was an Israelite, named Baron
Judah. Robert Purvis and his two brothers were brought to the North by
their parents in 1819. In Pennsylvania and New England he received his
scholastic education, finishing it at Amherst College. Since that time
his home has been in Philadelphia, or in the vicinity of that city.
His interest in the Anti-slavery cause began in his childhood, inspired
by such books as "Sandford and Merton," and Dr. Toney's "Portraiture of
Slavery," which his father put into his hands. His father, though
resident in a slave state, was never a slaveholder; but was heartily an
Abolitionist in principle. It was Robert Purvis' good fortune, before he
attained his majority, to make the acquaintance of that earnest and
self-sacrificing pioneer of freedom, Benjamin Lundy; and in conjunction
with him, was an early laborer in the anti-slavery field. He was a
member of the Convention held in Philadelphia in 1833, which formed the
American Anti-slavery Society; and among the signatures to its
Declaration of Sentiments, the name of Robert Purvis is to be seen; a
record of which his posterity to the latest generation may be justly
proud. During the whole period of that Society's existence he was a
member of it; and was also an active member and officer of The
Pennsylvania Anti-slavery Society. To the cause of the slave's freedom
he gave with all his heart his money, his time, his talents. Fervent in
soul, eloquent in speech, most gracious in manner, he was a favorite on
the platform of Anti-slavery meetings. High-toned in moral nature,
keenly sensitive in all matters pertaining to justice and integrity, he
was a most valuable coadjutor with the leaders of an unpopular reform;
and throughout the Anti-slavery conflict, he always received, as he
always deserved, the highest confidence and warm personal regard of his
fellow-laborers.
His faithful labors in aiding fugitive slaves cannot be recorded within
the limits of this sketch. Throughout that long period of peril to all
who dared to "remember those in bonds as bound with them," his house was
a well-known station on the Underground Rail Road; his horses and
carriages, and his personal attendance, were ever at the service of the
travelers upon that road. In those perilous duties his family heartily
sympathized with him, and cheerfully performed their share.
He has lived to witness the triumph of the great cause to which he
devoted his youth and his manhood; to join in the jubilee song of the
American slave; and the thanksgiving of the Abolitionists; and to
testify that the work of his life has been one "whose reward is in
itself."
JOHN HUNN.
Almost within the lions' den, in daily sight of the enemy, in the little
slave-holding State of Delaware, lived and labored the freedom-loving,
earnest and whole-souled Quaker abolitionist, John Hunn. His
headquarters were at Cantwell's Bridge, but, as an engineer of the
Underground Rail Road, his duties, like those of his fellow-laborer
Thomas Garrett, were not confined to that section, but embraced other
places, and were attended with great peril, constant care and expense.
He was well-known to the colored people far and near, and was especially
sought with regard to business pertaining to the Underground Rail Road,
as a friend who would never fail to assist as far as possible in every
time of need. Through his agency many found their way to freedom, both
by land and water.
The slave-holders regarding him with much suspicion, watched him
closely, and were in the habit of "breathing out threatenings and
slaughter" very fiercely at times. But Hunn was too plucky to be
frightened by their threats and menaces, and as one, commissioned by a
higher power to remember those in bonds as bound with them he remained
faithful to the slave. Men, women or children seeking to be unloosed
from the fetters of Slavery, could not make their grievances known to
John Hunn without calling forth his warmest sympathies. His house and
heart were always open to all such. The slave-holders evidently
concluded that Hunn could not longer be tolerated, consequently devised
a plan to capture him, on the charge of aiding off a woman with her
children.
[John Hunn and Thomas Garrett were conjointly prosecuted in this case,
and in the sketch of the latter, the trial, conviction, etc., are so
fully referred to, that it is unnecessary to do more than allude to it
here].
These noted Underground Rail Road offenders being duly brought before
the United States District Court, in May, 1848, Judge Taney, presiding,
backed by a thoroughly pro-slavery sentiment, obviously found it a very
easy matter to convict them, and a still easier matter to fine them to
the extent of every dollar they possessed in the world. Thousands of
dollars were swept from Hunn in an instant, and his family left utterly
destitute; but he was by no means conquered, as he deliberately gave the
court to understand in a manly speech, delivered while standing to