Part 15

"From thence we went to see the principal chapel in the city; to give a description of which, it requires a far abler pen than mine;" (she, however, mentions many particulars;) "but you cannot form an idea of it, unless you could see for yourself. After we had viewed the church throughout, we were conducted to our lodging, at which place we are at present. Since we have been here, my sampler and bench-cover have been seen by a number of ladies and gentlemen, and have been very much admired by all who have seen them.

"Dear teacher, notwithstanding we are hundreds of miles from each other, I hope you will not think that I shall forget you, or those kind friends (I mean the trustees), who have been so kind to me: for had it not been for them and yourself, perhaps I never should have known one half what I do, as respects my education; for which, for them and you, to God I shall offer up my humble prayers for your welfare, both in this life and that which is to come.

"I am, with respect, yours,

"SERENA M. BALDWIN."

THE INJURED AFRICANS.

FROM THE NEW YORK OBSERVER--1826.

In our paper of the 21st of January we inserted a communication from a correspondent giving an account of an aged colored woman who emigrated with her husband from New Orleans to this city last summer, bringing with her another colored woman whom she had rescued from slavery at the expense of _her little all_. The object of these poor people in coming to New York was simply to enjoy the privileges of the gospel without interruption.

A benevolent gentleman of our acquaintance whose feelings were much interested in the account which we published, and who has since repeatedly visited this interesting family, has put into our hands the following particulars of their history for publication. The name of the husband is _Reuben_, that of his wife, _Betsey_, and that of their companion, _Fanny_.

_Reuben Madison_, the husband, was born in Virginia, near Port Royal, about the year 1781. His parents, and all his connections in this country, were slaves. His father died when he was about seven years old. His mother is now living in Kentucky, enjoying freedom in her old age, through the filial regard of Reuben, who purchased her liberty for seventy dollars. She is seriously disposed, but not a professor of religion.

He has now eight brothers and sisters living in Frankfort, Franklin county, Kentucky, all slaves, and all, excepting one, members of a Baptist church in that place. About a year after his conversion Reuben was married to a slave, who had been kidnapped in Maryland and sold to a planter in his neighborhood. She was also hopefully pious.

While they lived together she became the mother of two children; but about four years after their marriage she and one of the children, aged eight months, were sold without his knowledge, and transported to a distant Spanish territory, and with so much secrecy that he had no opportunity even to bid her a last farewell. "This," said he, "was the severest trial of my life, a sense of sin only excepted. I mourned and cried, and would not be comforted.

"After several months, however, the hope of meeting her and my children again in the kingdom of God, when we should never be separated, together with a promise from my master that I should at some future time go to see her, in some measure allayed my grief, and permitted me to enjoy the consolations of religion." The other child is now a slave in Kentucky, though the father has often endeavored in vain to purchase his freedom.

About six years since, having hired his time of his master for five years previous, at 120 dollars a year, Reuben succeeded, by trafficking in rags, and in other ways, in collecting a sum sufficient for the purchase of his own freedom, for which he paid 700 dollars, and not only so, but he was enabled, with his surplus earnings, to build a brick house, and to provide it with convenient accommodations. By the dishonesty of his former master, however, all was taken from him.

Thus stripped of his property, he left Kentucky and went to New Orleans, that he might learn something from his wife, and, if possible, find and redeem her; but he only succeeded in gaining the painful intelligence that she was dead. He there formed an acquaintance with his present wife, whose former name was Betsey Bond, and they were soon married. The circumstances of her life were briefly these:

Betsey was born a slave, near Hobb's Hole, Essex county, Virginia, about 1763, and was married to a slave at about the age of twenty years. By him she had three children, one of which, together with her husband, died a few years after their marriage. Soon after their death, she was led to reflect on her lost state as a sinner, and after about seven months of deep anxiety was enabled, as she trusts, to resign herself into the hands of her Saviour, and experience those consolations which He deigns to grant to the broken-hearted penitent.

She gained the confidence and attachment of her mistress, who treated her with much kindness, and she was married to a pious servant of the family, where she remained about nine years. At the close of this period a planter from the vicinity of Natchez, coming to Alexandria in Virginia, where she then lived, for slaves, she was sold, and carried, with eight others, to his plantation, leaving her husband behind.

Her new master treated her with great severity, and she was compelled to labor almost incessantly every day of the week, Sabbath not excepted. With this man she lived nineteen years. He then died, and left his slaves, by will, to another planter, who also dying soon after, she was again sold and transported to New Orleans, where she arrived about the year 1812.

At the end of two years this master also died; and when his slaves were about to be sold, Betsey succeeded with some difficulty in hiring her time, and in a little more than a year, by washing and other labor, she acquired sufficient property to purchase her freedom, for which she paid 250 dollars. Her youngest son and his wife being also slaves in New Orleans, she hoped to obtain, by her industry and economy, money sufficient to purchase them also; but their master refused to part with them.

Several years after a large number of slaves were brought to New Orleans from Virginia, and were about to be offered for sale, and Fanny was among the number. Having accidentally become acquainted with her, previous to the sale, and finding her a sister in Christ, Betsey's feelings were deeply interested, and she resolved to purchase her, and to treat her not as a slave, but as a child and companion.

This determination she communicated to Fanny, and with the aid of a gentleman she succeeded in accomplishing her object. The price was 250 dollars. She paid 200, _her all_, and obtained a short credit for the remainder. Soon after this her present husband, coming to New Orleans, as before stated, they were married, and the payment for Fanny was then completed.

By their united industry they were soon able to build a comfortable house, in which they set apart a room for religious purposes. Here they assembled with others every Sabbath, for the worship of God. But being constantly exposed to disturbance in their worship, they felt a great desire to go to a free State, where they might enjoy religious privileges unmolested; where they could unite with Christian friends in social prayer and conversation, without a soldier with a drawn sword stationed at their door.

They fixed upon New York as the desired asylum; and having arranged their concerns, rented their house, and collected their effects, they engaged and paid their passage, which was seventy dollars, and sailed from New Orleans about the 12th of July, 1825, with pleasing anticipations, for a land of freedom and religious privileges.

They suffered much on the voyage, through the cruelty of the captain; being exposed without shelter, during the whole of the passage, either on deck or in the longboat. In consequence of this exposure, both of the women were taken sick; and in this condition they arrived at New York, and were landed on the wharf in a land of strangers, their money almost expended, and none to commiserate their sufferings.

After a few days, however, Reuben succeeded in obtaining a miserable cellar in Chapel Street, at sixty dollars annual rent, where he remained for some time, supporting the family in their sickness, by his labor as a shoemaker, and by the sale of some of his effects.

On his arrival at this port his first act was to grant entire freedom to Fanny, giving her liberty to live with him, or to go where she pleased. She chose to remain with him; and she assisted in the support of the family by washing and other labor, and nursed her mistress, who was evidently declining with the consumption, occasioned doubtless by the severity of her treatment on the passage from New Orleans.

Not being able to pay their rent in advance, owing to their sickness and other expenses, their landlord compelled them to quit their residence; and they have since been obliged to put up with still more miserable accommodations in a cellar in Elm Street.

They appeared to put their trust and confidence in God, and expressed their entire belief that all their trials were designed for their good. They seemed to be one in sentiment and feeling, and to manifest a spirituality of mind rarely to be found. Every little attention was most gratefully received, and the best of blessings were implored on him who bestowed it.

With some assistance from the benevolent, and with what they may receive from New Orleans for rent, it is believed they may be provided with a comfortable house, and be introduced to those privileges which they so ardently desire. No one of the family can read, though they are all desirous to learn, and from a little attention which their friends have given them it appears that they may be taught without difficulty.

It is an affecting thought, that the wrongs of this poor woman, which commenced at her birth, and were inflicted without interruption during the long years of slavery, still followed her on her passage to the land of freedom, and have been finally consummated in this city, the city of her hopes, her fancied asylum from the oppressor.

HENRY BOYD.

FROM THE ANTI-SLAVERY RECORD.

Henry Boyd was born a slave in Kentucky. Of imposing stature, well-knit muscles, and the countenance of one of nature's noblemen. At the age of eighteen he had so far won the confidence of his master, that he not only consented to sell him the right and title to his freedom, but gave him his own time to earn the money.

With a general pass from his master, Henry made his way to the Kenhawa salt works, celebrated as the place where Senator Ewing, of Ohio, chopped out his _education_ with his axe! And there, too, with his axe, did Henry Boyd chop out his _liberty_. By performing double labor, he got double wages. In the daytime he swung his axe upon the wood, and for half the night he tended the boiling salt-kettles, sleeping the other half by their side.

After having accumulated a sufficient sum, he returned to his master and paid it over for his freedom. He next applied himself to learn the trade of a carpenter and joiner. Such was his readiness to acquire the use of tools, that he soon qualified himself to receive the wages of a journeyman. In Kentucky prejudice does not forbid master mechanics to teach colored men their trades.

He now resolved to quit the dominions of slavery and try his fortunes in a free State, and accordingly directed his steps to the city of Cincinnati. The journey reduced his purse to the last _quarter of a dollar_; but, with his tools on his back and the consciousness of his ability to use them, he entered the city with a light heart. Little did he dream of the reception he was to meet. There was work enough to be done in his line, but no master workman would employ a colored man.

Day after day did Henry Boyd offer his services from shop to shop, but as often was he repelled, generally with insult, and once with a kick. At last, he found the shop of an Englishman, too recently arrived to understand the grand peculiarity of American feeling. This man put a plane into his hand, and asked him to make proof of his skill. "This is in bad order," said Boyd, and with that he gave the instrument certain nice professional knocks with the hammer, till he brought it to suit his practised eye.

"Enough," said the Englishman; "I see you can use tools." Boyd, however, proceeded to dress a board in a very able and workmanlike manner, while the journeymen from a long line of benches gathered around with looks that bespoke a deep personal interest in the matter. "You may go to work," said the master of the shop, right glad to employ so good a workman. The words had no sooner left his mouth than his American journeymen, unbuttoning their aprons, called, as one man, for the settlement of their wages.

"What! what!" said the amazed Englishman, "what does this mean?" "It means that we will not work with a _nigger_," replied the journeymen. "But he is a first-rate workman." "But we won't stay in the same shop with a _nigger_; we are not in the habit of working with _niggers_." "Then I will build a shanty outside, and he shall work in that." "No, no; we won't work for a _boss_ who employs _niggers_. Pay us up, and we'll be off." The poor master of the shop turned with a despairing look to Boyd--"You see how it is, my friend; my workmen will all leave me. I am sorry for it, but I can't hire you."

Even at this repulse our adventurer did not despair. There might still be mechanics in the outskirts of the city who had too few journeymen to be bound by their prejudices. His quarter of a dollar had long since disappeared, but, by carrying a traveller's trunk or turning his hand to any chance job, he contrived to exist till he had made application to every carpenter and joiner in the city and its suburbs. _Not one would employ him._ By this time, the iron of prejudice, more galling than anything he had ever known of slavery, had entered his soul.

He walked down to the river's bank below the city, and throwing himself upon the ground, gave way to an agony of despair. He had found himself the object of universal contempt; his plans were all frustrated, his hopes dashed, and his dear-bought freedom made of no effect! By such trials, weak minds are prostrated in abject and slavish servility, and stronger ones are made the enemies and depredators of society; it is only the highest class of moral heroes that come off like gold from the furnace.

Of this class, however, was Henry Boyd. Recovering from his dejection, he surveyed the brawny muscles that strung his Herculean frame. A new design rushed into his mind, and new resolution filled his heart. He sprang upon his feet and walked firmly and rapidly towards the city, doubtless with aspirations that might have suited the words of the poet:

"Thy spirit, _Independence_, let me share, Lord of the lion heart and eagle eye."

The first object which attracted his "eagle eye," on reaching the city, was one of the huge river boats laden with pig iron, drawn up to the landing. The captain of this craft was just inquiring of the merchant who owned its contents for a hand to assist in unloading it. "I am the very fellow for you," said Boyd, stripping off his coat, rolling up his sleeves, and laying hold of the work. "Yes, sure enough, that _is_ the very fellow for you," said the merchant.

The resolution and alacrity of Boyd interested him exceedingly, and during the four or five days in which a flotilla of boats were discharging their cargoes of pig iron with unaccustomed despatch, he became familiar with his history, with the exception of all that pertained to his trade, which Boyd thought proper to keep to himself. In consequence, our adventurer next found himself promoted to the portership of the merchant's store, a post which he filled to great satisfaction.

He had a hand and a head for everything, and an occasion was not long wanting to prove it. A joiner was engaged to erect a counter, but failing, by a drunken frolic, the merchant was disappointed and vexed. Rather in passion than in earnest, he turned to his faithful porter: "Here, Henry, you can do almost anything, why can't _you_ do this job?" "Perhaps I could, sir, if I had my tools and the stuff," was the reply. "Your tools!" exclaimed the merchant in surprise, for till now he knew nothing of his trade.

Boyd explained that he had learned the trade of a carpenter and joiner, and had no objection to try the job. The merchant handed him the money, and told him to make as good a counter as he could. The work was done with such promptitude, judgment and finish that his employer broke off a contract for the erection of a large frame warehouse, which he was about closing with the same mechanic who had disappointed him in the matter of the counter, and gave the job to Henry.

The money was furnished, and Boyd was left to procure the materials and _boss_ the job at his own discretion. This he found no difficulty in doing, and what is remarkable, among the numerous journeymen whom he employed, were some of the very men who took off their aprons at his appearance in the Englishman's shop! The merchant was so much pleased with his new warehouse, that he proceeded to set up the intelligent builder in the exercise of his trade in the city.

Thus Henry Boyd found himself raised at once almost beyond the reach of the prejudice which had well-nigh crushed him. He built houses and accumulated property. White journeymen and apprentices were glad to be in his employment, and to _sit at his table_. He is now a wealthy mechanic, living in his own house in Cincinnati; and his enemies who have tried to supplant him have as good reason as his friends to know that he is a man of sound judgment and a most vigorous intellect.

Without having received a day's schooling in his life, Henry Boyd is well read in history, has an extensive and accurate knowledge of geography, is an excellent arithmetician, and is remarkable for his morality, generosity, and all those traits which mark a noble character.

QUAMINO BUCCAN,

A PIOUS METHODIST.

Quamino was born in the vicinity of New Brunswick, New Jersey, in 1762, and was a slave. In his ninth year he was hired for a term of years to a person named Schenk, who employed him as a house-servant, and who soon after removing to Poughkeepsie, New York, took the lad with him. The unsettled state of the country during the Revolutionary War, prevented communication with his old master, and Quamino had no hope of seeing his former friends; but in his eightieth year he was informed that his master had sent for him. On his return to New Jersey his old associates had so grown that he felt like a stranger in his old home.

When nearing the age of manhood he was steady in attending religious meetings, walking several miles through all kinds of weather. His own account of his motive in going was that he "liked to have the name of being a good boy." But whatever his motive in going, the meetings were a blessing to him. One Sabbath evening on reaching home he went to the barn, where, after earnest exercise in prayer, he slept upon the straw. Very early in the morning he went into the field to work, first kneeling by the fence. Being in great distress, the gracious words of the Saviour deeply impressed him: "_Let not your heart be troubled. Ye believe in God, believe also in Me._" Yielding his whole heart and all his powers to Him who was calling for the sacrifice, he felt that he received the unspeakable gift.

He went to his work; "and oh," said he, "everything was glorious around me--everything seemed to be praising God."

The change which had come over the boy was conspicuous to all around him; he was quiet and diligent in attention to all his duties. From this time Quamino understood the nature of that peace "which passeth all understanding." On the Sabbath he would get the carriage ready, and when his master had started he would walk several miles across the fields to the Methodist meeting, but always left before the conclusion of the services, as, if not at home in time to take the horses when the family arrived, he was sure to be found fault with, if not punished.

At the age of twenty-six he married Sarah, a slave on a neighboring place. She was soon sold to a distance of five miles, and for some years they only met once a week. One Sabbath morning he went to see her, and found that she and her infant had been sold, leaving her little son, a boy nearly four years old. She now had a hard master; but, through the efforts of her husband, she was purchased by a neighbor, and, at length, by the removal of this purchaser, Quamino induced his second master (to whom he had been sold when about thirty years old) to buy her. Afterwards Dr. Griffith bought Quamino for $250, and Sarah for $150.

At the death of Dr. Griffith his goods and chattels (including his slaves) were advertised to be sold at public auction. The sale commenced, and Quamino and Sarah became objects of much attention; but a letter was received from Wm. Griffith, the son and executor of the late master, directing that everything should be sold to the highest bidder except the carriage and horse, and that with these Quamino should bring Sarah to Burlington. "Oh, my dear friend," said he in narrating it, "you do not know how I felt."

Wm. Griffith was not only an eminent lawyer but bore a part in originating the New Jersey Abolition Society. For this excellent man, whose "record is on high," Quamino worked to the best of his ability. One day, as he was at work in the garden, he heard his name called, and seeing his master beside him, he modestly said, "Sir!" We will describe what took place in the good old man's words. Says he:

"Would you like to be free?" and I said, "I don't know, sir." He stood in silence a little while, and I went on working the same as before. At last he said, 'I've made up my mind to give you free;' and says I, 'you give me free, master?' Oh, it all came on me so unexpected! And then he up and told me all how he would do: 'When I call you, you must take your wife by the hand and come into my office.' One day he called me to bring my wife. I went in the kitchen, and said, 'Mother, Mr. Griffith says you must come along with me to the office.' She stroked her apron, and we went, and found the office full of gentlemen, and there we stood as if we were just married. After answering some questions they went back to their work, and their certificate of freedom was recorded in the clerk's office in Burlington. They were then hired at ten dollars a month. Quamino was then forty-four years old. When asked by some of his old friends, if he was happier since he received his freedom, he said, "I don't know much about freedom, but I would'nt be a slave again if you'd give me the best farm in the Jarsies."