Part 20

"Afraid of being arrested and taken back, I remained the following day hid away in a secluded spot on the banks of the Mississippi River, protected from the gaze of man by the large trees and thick cane-brakes that sheltered me. I waited for the coming of another night. All was silence around me, save the sweet chant of the feathered songsters in the forest, or the musical ripple of the eddying waters at my feet. I watched the majestic bluffs as they gradually faded away, through the gray twilight, from the face of day into the darker shades of night. I then turned to the rising moon as it peered above, ascending the deep blue ether, high in the heavens, casting its mellow rays over the surrounding landscape, and gilding the smooth surface of the noble river with its silvery hue. I viewed with interest the stars as they appeared, one after another, in the firmament. It was then and there that I studied nature in its lonely grandeur, and saw in it the goodness of God, and felt that He who created so much beauty, and permitted the fowls of the air and the beasts of the field to roam at large and be free, never intended that man should be the slave of his fellow-man. I resolved that I would be a bondman no longer; and, taking for my guide the _north star_, I started for Canada, the negro's land of liberty. For many weeks I travelled by night, and lay by during the day. O, how often, while hid away in the forest, waiting for nightfall, have I thought of the beautiful lines I once heard a stranger recite:--

'O, hail Columbia! happy land! The cradle land of liberty! Where none but negroes bear the brand, Or feel the lash of slavery.

'Then let the glorious anthem peal, And drown "Britannia rules the waves:" Strike up the song that men can feel-- "Columbia rules four million slaves!"'

"At last I arrived at a depot of the Underground Railroad, took the _express train_, and here I am."

"You are welcome," said Colonel Rice, as he rose from his chair, walked to the window and looked out, as if apprehensive that the fugitive's pursuers were near by. "You are welcome," continued he; "and I will aid you on your way to Canada, for you are not safe here."

"Are you not afraid of breaking the laws by assisting this man to escape?" remarked Squire Loomis.

"I care not for laws when they stand in the way of humanity," replied the colonel.

"If you aid him in reaching Canada, and we should ever have a war with England, may be he'll take up arms and fight against his own country," said the squire.

The fugitive eyed the law-abiding man attentively for a moment, and then exclaimed, "Take up arms against my country? What country, sir, have I? The Supreme Court of the United States, and the laws of the south, doom me to be the slave of another. There is not a foot of soil over which the _stars and stripes_ wave, where I can stand and be protected by law. I've seen my mother sold in the cattle market. I looked upon my brothers as they were driven away in chains by the slave speculator. The heavy negro whip has been applied to my own shoulders until its biting lash sunk deep into my quivering flesh. Still, sir, you call this my country. True, true, I was born in this land. My grandfather fought in the revolutionary war; my own father was in the war of 1812. Still, sir, I am a slave, a chattel, a thing, a piece of property. I've been sold in the market with horses and swine; the initials of my master's name are branded deep in this arm. Still, sir, you call this my country. And, now that I am making my escape, you feel afraid, if I reach Canada, and there should be war with England, that I will take up arms against my own country. Sir, I have no country but the grave; and I'll seek freedom there before I will again be taken back to slavery. There is no justice for me at the south; every right of my race is trampled in the dust, until humanity bleeds at every pore. I am bound for Canada, and woe to him that shall attempt to arrest me. If it comes to the worst, I will die fighting for freedom."

"I honor you for your courage," exclaimed Squire Loomis, as he sprang from his seat, and walked rapidly to and fro through the room. "It is too bad," continued he, "that such men should be enslaved in a land whose Declaration of Independence proclaims all men to be free and equal. I will aid you in any thing that I can. What is your name?"

"I have no name," said the fugitive. "I once had a name,--it was William,--but my master's nephew came to live with him, and as I was a house servant, and the young master and I would, at times, get confused in the same name, orders were given for me to change mine. From that moment, I resolved that, as slavery had robbed me of my liberty and my name, I would not attempt to have another till I was free. So, sir, for once you have a man standing before you without a name."

SAMUEL R. WARD.

Few public speakers exercised greater influence in the pulpit and on the platform, in behalf of human freedom, than did Samuel R. Ward, in the early days of abolition agitation. From 1840 up to the passage of the Fugitive Slave Law, in 1850, he either preached or lectured in every church, hall, or school house in Western and Central New York. Endowed with superior mental powers, and having, through the aid of Hon. Gerrit Smith, obtained a good education, and being a close student, Mr. Ward's intellectual faculties are well developed. He was, for several years, settled over a white congregation, of the Presbyterian order, at South Butler, N. Y., where he preached with great acceptance, and was highly respected. As a speaker, he was justly held up as one of the ablest men, white or black, in the United States. The first time we ever heard him, (in 1842,) he was announced in the advertisement as "the black Daniel Webster." Standing above six feet in height, possessing a strong voice, and energetic in his gestures, Mr. Ward always impressed his highly finished and logical speeches upon his hearers. No detractor of the negro's abilities ever attributed his talents to his having Anglo-Saxon blood in his veins. As a black man, Mr. Ward was never ashamed of his complexion, but rather appeared to feel proud of it. When Captain Rynders and his followers took possession of the platform of the American Anti-Slavery Society, at their anniversary, in New York, in the spring of 1852, Frederick Douglass rose to defend the rights of the Association and the liberty of speech. Rynders objected to the speaker upon the ground that he was not a negro, but half white. Ward, being present, came forward, amid great applause, and the rowdy leader had to "knock under," and confess that genuine eloquence was not confined to the white man. William J. Wilson says of Ward, "Ideas form the basis of all Mr. Ward utters. If words and ideas are not inseparable, then, as mortar is to the stones that compose the building, so are his words to his ideas. In this, I judge, lies Mr. Ward's greatest strength. Concise without abruptness; without extraordinary stress, always clear and forcible; if sparing of ornament, never inelegant,--in all, there appears a consciousness of strength, developed by close study and deep reflection, and only put forth because the occasion demands it. His appeals are directed rather to the understanding than the imagination; but so forcibly do they take possession of it, that the heart unhesitatingly yields."

Mr. Ward visited England in 1852, where he was regarded as an eloquent advocate of the rights of his race. He now resides at Kingston, Jamaica.

SIR EDWARD JORDAN.

Edward Jordan was born in Kingston, Jamaica, in the year 1798. After quitting school he entered a clothing store as a clerk; but his deep hatred to slavery, and the political and social outrages committed upon the free colored men, preyed upon his mind to such an extent that, in 1826, he associated himself with Robert Osborn, in the publication of _The Watchman_, a weekly newspaper devoted to the freedom and enfranchisement of the people of color. His journal was conducted with marked ability, and Mr. Jordan soon began to wield a tremendous influence against the slave power. While absent from his editorial duties, in 1830, an article appeared in _The Watchman_, upon which its editor was indicted for constructive treason. He was at once arrested, placed in the dock, and arraigned for trial. He pleaded "not guilty," and asked for time to prepare for his defence. The plea was allowed, and the case was traversed to the next court. The trial came on at the appointed time; the jury was packed, for the pro-slavery element had determined on the conviction of the distinguished advocate of liberty. The whole city appeared to be lost to every thing but the proceedings of the assize. It was feared, that, if convicted, a riot would be the result, and the authorities prepared for this. A vessel of war was brought up abreast of the city, the guns of which were pointed up one of the principal streets, and at almost every avenue leading to the sea, a merchant vessel was moored, armed at least with one great gun, pointing in a similar direction, to rake the streets from bottom to top. A detachment of soldiers was kept under arms, with orders to be ready for action at a moment's warning. The officers of the court, including the judge, entered upon their duties, armed with pistols; and the sheriff was instructed to shoot the prisoner in the dock if a rescue was attempted. If convicted, Mr. Jordan's punishment was to be death. Happily for all, the verdict was "not guilty." The acquittal of the editor of _The Watchman_ carried disappointment and dismay into the ranks of the slave oligarchy, while it gave a new impetus to the anti-slavery cause, both in Jamaica and in Great Britain, and which culminated in the abolition of slavery on the 1st of August, 1834. The following year, Mr. Jordan was elected member of the Assembly for the city of Kingston, which he still represents. About this time, _The Watchman_ was converted into a daily paper, under the title of _The Morning Journal_, still in existence, and owned by Jordan and Osborn. In 1853, Mr. Jordan was elected mayor of his native city without opposition, which office he still holds. He was recently chosen premier of the island and president of the privy council.

No man is more respected in the Assembly than Mr. Jordan, and reform measures offered by him are often carried through the house, owing to the respect the members have for the introducer. In the year 1860, the honorable gentleman was elevated to the dignity of knighthood by the Queen. Sir Edward Jordan has ever been regarded as an honest, upright, and temperate man. In a literary point of view, he is considered one of the first men in Jamaica.

It is indeed a cheering sign for the negro to look at one of his race, who, a few years ago, was tried for his life in a city in which he is now the chief magistrate, inspector of the prison in which he was once incarcerated, and occupying a seat in the legislature by the side of the white man who ejected him from his position as a clerk, on account of his color. To those who say that the two races cannot live in peace together, we point to the Jamaica Assembly, with more than half of its members colored; and to all who think that the negro is only fit for servitude, we reply by saying, Look at Sir Edward Jordan.

JOSEPH CARTER.

The subject of this sketch is a native of the city of Bridgetown, Barbadoes, where he was born on the 16th of February, 1831. At the early age of eleven years, he was apprenticed to William Howell, a cabinet-maker of his native place. The boy showed so much genius and skill even at this tender age, that he excited an interest in his behalf, which culminated in his becoming the ward of Miss Hayes, a talented lady, of English origin, whose guardianship of young Carter did much to pave the way for the development of his hidden powers. In his seventeenth year, Joseph came to the States in company with his guardian, and settled in the city of Philadelphia, where he now resides. Buoyant with hopes, knowing his own capacity, and aspiring in his nature, the young man went forth in search of employment, little dreaming of the insurmountable prejudice which every man of his color has to meet in this country, and more especially in cities in the border states. In vain he went from shop to shop, appealing for simple justice, feeling confident that if once in employment, he could keep his situation by his ability as a workman. Wherever he appeared before a manufacturer, the reply was, "I would hire you if my hands, who are white, would not leave me." This calls to mind an incident that was related to me by a master gilder in Sixth Street, Philadelphia, a few years since. I had stepped into his place to purchase a picture frame, when, on learning that I was from Boston, he inquired if I was acquainted with Jacob R. Andrews. I replied that I was. "Then," said he, "do you see that bench there?" "Yes." "There was where he learned his trade." "Was he apprenticed to you?" I inquired. "No," said he; "he came to me, wishing to learn the business: my men refused to work in the same room with him, although he was as white as most of them. So, rather than turn him away, I put up a table there, and set him to work. In a short time he was able to turn out as good a job as any man in the establishment. He worked for me several years, and I must say that I never had a better workman, or a more reliable man in every respect, than he. Andrews often waited on my customers in my absence, and, whether at the bench at work or behind the counter, he was always the gentleman." I was pleased to hear so favorable an account of Mr. Andrews, for I had formed a high opinion of him, both as a man of integrity and a mechanic. He is now a flourishing manufacturer himself, in Beach Street, Boston, where he can count among his patrons some of the first families in the city. Mr. Carter, therefore, had energy similar to Mr. Andrews, and kept applying till he obtained work. A writer, to whom I am indebted for the early history of my subject, says, "Two years after his arrival we find Carter in business, manufacturing all sorts of furniture, from a pine table to the rarest cabinet. In 1859 we find him building organs for churches. One of the principal churches in this city (Philadelphia) has an organ manufactured by him. The whole work is done by his own hands; the rough stuff enters his establishment, and leaves it a perfect specimen of art and ingenuity, pure and mellow in tone, and polished, and carved, and elegantly finished. Unlike those extensive manufactories having branches and departments for fashioning the various portions of such instruments, his has none. You know it is said of the ancient Egyptians that their sculpture had an odd and awkward appearance, because their sculptors never chiselled out an entire figure. Some made the arms, some the legs, some the body, some the head. Perhaps Mr. Carter has the advantage of more extensive manufacturers by giving uniqueness and symmetry to his instruments. He is now making a very large one to order, having nine stops and pedals. The one he proposes to send to the Art Exhibition is an elaborately finished one of five stops and pedals, of walnut, carved, gothic style, and of exceeding richness of tone. This business he has taken up without ever receiving an hour's instruction. He was imperceptibly drawn into it through a fondness for music. He purchased a melodeon for his own use and amusement, and feeling the want of more stops and pedals, set about the work; and this attempt not being satisfactory, he built an organ which proved to be a very excellent one."

JAMES LAWSON.

James Lawson was born in slavery in the State of Virginia, where, for many years, he was the chief man on his master's plantation; and when the rebellion broke out, the rebel owner felt sure, from James's former fidelity, that he would stand by him in that contest. So confident was he of this, that he sent the chattel to an important military station with the following recommendation: "You may trust Jim in any way that you can use him, for he has been my slave fourteen years, and I never knew him to deceive me or any member of my family. Indeed, I have more respect, esteem, and good feeling for him, and more confidence in his integrity, than any white man of my acquaintance. He is able to undertake any affair, of either great or small importance."

When the history of the "Slaveholders' Rebellion" shall be impartially written, it will be found that no class has done more good service to the Union cause, and were more reliable in every respect, than those who had formerly been slaves. A correspondent of the "New York Times," writing from the head-quarters of the army of the Potomac, July 29, 1862, says, "Some of the most valuable information McClellan has received in regard to the position, movements and plans of the enemy, the topography of the country, and the inclination of certain inhabitants, has been obtained through contrabands. Even spies and traitors have been detected, and brought before the proper authorities, upon evidence furnished by this much-abused, but generally loyal class of people."

Probably no ten men have done so much in the way of giving information and performing daring acts in the enemy's immediate locality, as James Lawson. At one time we find him mounted on horseback, riding with the commanding general and his staff, piloting the Union forces through the enemy's country, and at another heading a scouting party, and saving them all from capture, by his superior knowledge of the district through which they travelled. After doing considerable service for the army, "Jim," as he was generally called, shipped on board the flag gunboat Freeborn, Lieutenant Samuel Magaw commanding. An officer from that vessel says of Jim, "He furnished Captain Magaw with much valuable intelligence concerning the rebel movements, and, from his quiet, every-day behavior, soon won the esteem of the commanding officer.

"Captain Magaw, shortly after Jim's arrival on board the Freeborn, sent him upon a scouting tour through the rebel fortifications, more to test his reliability than any thing else; and the mission, although fraught with great danger, was executed by Jim in the most faithful manner. Again Jim was sent into Virginia, landing at the White House, below Mount Vernon, and going into the interior for several miles, encountering the fire of picket guards and posted sentries, returned in safety to the shore, and was brought off in the captain's gig, under the fire of the rebel musketry.

"Jim had a wife and four children at that time still in Virginia. They belonged to the same man as Jim did. He was anxious to get them; yet it seemed impossible. One day in January Jim came to the captain's room and asked for permission to be landed that evening on the Virginia side, as he wished to bring off his family. 'Why, Jim,' said Captain Magaw, 'how will you be able to pass the pickets?'

"'I want to try, captain. I think I can get 'em over safely,' meekly replied Jim.

"'Well, you have my permission;' and Captain Magaw ordered one of the gunboats to land Jim that night on whatever part of the shore Jim designated, and return for him the following evening.

"True to his appointment, Jim was at the spot with his wife and family, and were taken on board the gunboat, and brought over to Liverpool Point, where Colonel Graham had given them a log house to live in, just back of his own quarters. Jim ran the gantlet of the sentries unharmed, never taking to the roads, but keeping in the woods, every foot-path of which, and almost every tree, he knew from his boyhood up.

"Several weeks afterwards, another reconnoissance was planned, and Jim sent on it. He returned in safety, and was highly complimented by Generals Hooker, Sickles, and the entire flotilla.

"On Thursday, a week ago, it became necessary to obtain correct information of the enemy's movements. Since then, batteries at Shipping and Cockpit Points had been evacuated, and their troops moved to Fredericksburg. Jim was the man picked out for the occasion by General Sickles and Captain Magaw. The general came down to Colonel Graham's quarters about nine in the evening, and sent for Jim. There were present the general, Colonel Graham, and myself. Jim came into the colonel's.

"'Jim,' said the general, 'I want you to go over to Virginia to-night and find out what forces they have at Aquia Creek and Fredericksburg. If you want any men to accompany you, pick them out.'

"'I know two men that would like to go,' Jim answered.

"'Well, get them and be back as soon as possible.'

"Away went Jim over to the contraband camp, and returning almost immediately, brought into our presence two very intelligent looking men.

"'Are you all ready?' inquired the general.

"'All ready, sir,' the trio responded.

"'Well, here, Jim, you take my pistol,' said General Sickles, unbuckling it from his belt, 'and if you are successful, I will give you a hundred dollars.'

"Jim hoped he would be, and bidding us good by, started off for the gunboat Satellite, Captain Foster, who landed them a short distance below the Potomac Creek Batteries. They were to return early in the morning, but were unable, from the great distance they went in the interior. Long before daylight on Saturday morning the gunboat was lying off the appointed place.

"As the day dawned, Captain Foster discovered a mounted picket guard near the beach, and almost at the same instant saw Jim to the left of them, in the woods, sighting his gun at the rebel cavalry. He ordered the 'gig' to be manned and rowed to the shore. The rebels moved along slowly, thinking to intercept the boat, when Foster gave them a shell, which scattered them. Jim, with only one of his original companions, and two fresh contrabands, came on board. Jim had _lost the other_. He had been challenged by a picket when some distance in advance of Jim, and the negro, instead of answering the summons, fired the contents of Sickles's revolver at the picket. It was an unfortunate occurrence, for at that time the entire picket guard rushed out of a small house near the spot, and fired the contents of their muskets at Jim's companion, killing him instantly. Jim and the other three hid themselves in a hollow, near a fence, and after the pickets gave up pursuit, crept through the woods to the shore. From the close proximity of the rebel pickets, Jim could not display a light, which was the signal for Foster to send a boat.

"Captain Foster, after hearing Jim's story of the shooting of his companion, determined to avenge his death; so, steaming his vessel close in to the shore, he sighted his guns for a barn, which the rebel cavalry were hiding behind. He fired two shells: one went right through the barn, killing four of the rebels and seven of their horses. Captain Foster, seeing the effect of his shots, said to Jim, who stood by, 'Well, Jim, I've avenged the death of poor Cornelius' (the name of Jim's lost companion).

"General Hooker has transmitted to the war department an account of Jim's reconnoissance to Fredericksburg, and unites with the army and navy stationed on the left wing of the Potomac, in the hope that the government will present Jim with a fitting recompense for his gallant services."

The gunboat soon after was ordered to Newbern, N. C., where James Lawson was again to be the centre of attraction, but in a new character. Anxious that his fellow-slaves (many of whom had shipped in the same vessel) should excel as oarsmen, he was frequently out practising with them, until a race was agreed upon, in which the blacks were to pull against the whites. A correspondent of the "New York Times" gives the following as the result:--