Hopper to inquire if he knew anything about them. He coolly replied, "I believe they are doing very well. From what I hear, I judge it will not be necessary to give thyself any further trouble on their account."

"There is no use in trying to capture a runaway slave in Philadelphia,"

rejoined the master. "I believe the devil himself could not catch them when they once get here."

"That is very likely," answered Friend Hopper. "But I think he would have less difficulty in catching the masters; being so much more familiar with them."

Sixty dollars had already been expended in vain; and the slave-holder, having relinquished all hope of tracing the fugitives, finally agreed to manumit the woman for fifty dollars, and her son for seventy-five dollars. These sums were advanced by two citizens friendly to the colored people, and the emanc.i.p.ated slaves repaid them by faithful service.

THE SLAVE OF DR. RICH.

In the autumn of 1828, Dr. Rich of Maryland came to Philadelphia with his wife, who was the daughter of an Episcopal clergyman in that city, by the name of Wiltbank. She brought a slave to wait upon her, intending to remain at her father's until after the birth of her child, which was soon expected to take place. When they had been there a few months, the slave was informed by some colored acquaintance that she was free in consequence of being brought to Philadelphia. She called to consult with Isaac T. Hopper, and seemed very much disappointed to hear that a residence of six months was necessary to ent.i.tle her to freedom; that her master was doubtless aware of that circ.u.mstance, and would probably guard against it.

After some minutes of anxious reflection, she said, "Then there is nothing left for me to do but to run away; for I am determined never to go back to Maryland."

Friend Hopper inquired whether she thought it would be right to leave her mistress without any one to attend upon her, in the situation she then was. She replied that she felt no scruples on that point, for her master was wealthy, and could hire as many servants as he pleased.

Finding her mind entirely made up on the subject, he gave her such instructions as seemed suited to the occasion.

The next morning she was not to be found; and Dr. Rich went in search of her, with his father-in-law, Mr. Wiltbank. Having frightened some ignorant colored people where she visited, by threats of prosecuting them for harboring a runaway, they confessed that she had gone from their house to Isaac T. Hopper. Mr. Wiltbank accordingly waited upon him, and after relating the circ.u.mstances of the case, inquired whether he had seen the fugitive. In reply, he made a frank statement of the interview he had with her, and of her fixed determination to obtain her freedom. The clergyman reproached her with ingrat.i.tude, and said she had always been treated with great kindness.

"The woman herself gives a very different account of her treatment,"

replied Friend Hopper; "but be that as it may, I cannot blame her for wishing to obtain her liberty."

He asked if Friend Hopper knew where she then was; and he answered that he did not. "Could you find her, if you tried?" inquired he.

"I presume I could do it very easily," rejoined the Quaker. "The colored people never wish to secrete themselves from me; for they know I am their true friend."

Mr. Wiltbank then said, "If you will cause her to be brought to your house, Dr. Rich and myself will come here at eight o'clock this evening.

You will then hear her ask her master's pardon, acknowledge the kindness with which she has always been treated, and express her readiness to go home with him."

Friend Hopper indignantly replied, "I have no doubt that fear might induce her to profess all thou hast said. But what trait hast thou discovered in my character, that leads thee to suppose I would be such a hypocrite as to betray the confidence this poor woman has reposed in me, by placing her in the power of her master, in the way thou hast proposed?"

Mr. Wiltbank then requested that a message might be conveyed to the woman, exhorting her to return, and promising that no notice whatever would be taken of her offence.

"She shall be informed of thy message, if that will be any satisfaction to thee," replied Friend Hopper; "but I am perfectly sure she will never voluntarily return into slavery."

Dr. Rich and Mr. Wiltbank called in the evening, and were told the message had been delivered to the woman, but she refused to return. "She is in your house now," exclaimed Dr. Rich. "I can prove it; and if you don't let me see her, I will commence a suit against you to-morrow, for harboring my slave."

"I believe Solomon Low resides in thy neighborhood," said Friend Hopper.

"Art thou acquainted with him?"

Being answered in the affirmative, he said, "Solomon Low brought three such suits as thou hast threatened. They cost him seventeen hundred dollars, which I heard he was unable to pay. But perhaps thou hast seventeen hundred dollars to spare?"

Dr. Rich answered that he could well afford to lose that sum.

"Very well," rejoined his opponent. "There are lawyers enough who need it, and still more who would be glad to have it."

Finding it alike impossible to coax or intimidate the resolute Quaker, they withdrew. About eleven o'clock at night, some of the family informed Friend Hopper that there was a man continually walking back and forth in front of the house. He went out and accosted him thus: "Friend, art thou watching my house?" When the stranger replied that he was, he said, "It is very kind in thee; but I really do not think there is any occasion for thy services. I am quite satisfied with the watchmen employed by the public."

The man answered gruffly, "I have taken my stand, and I intend to keep it."

Friend Hopper told him he had no objection; and he was about to re-enter the house, when he observed Dr. Rich, who was so wrapped up in a large cloak, that at first he did not recognize him. He exclaimed, "Why doctor, art thou here! Is it possible thou art parading the streets so late in the night, at this cold season of the year? Now, from motives of kindness, I do a.s.sure thee thy slave is not in my house. To save thee from exposing thy health by watching at this inclement season, I will give thee leave to search the house."

The doctor replied, "I shall obtain a warrant in the morning, and search it with the proper officer."

"There appear to be several on the watch," said Friend Hopper; "and it surely is not necessary for all of them to be out in the cold at the same time. If thou wilt be responsible that nothing shall be stolen, thou art welcome to use my parlor as a watch-house." This offer was declined with freezing civility, and Friend Hopper returned to his dwelling. Pa.s.sing through the kitchen, he observed two colored domestics talking together in an under tone, apparently planning something which made them very merry. Judging from some words he overheard, that they had a mischievous scheme on foot, he resolved to watch their movements without letting them know that he noticed them. One of them put on an old cloak and bonnet, opened the front door cautiously, looked up the street and down the street, but saw n.o.body. The watchers had seen the dark face the moment it peeped out, and they were lying in ambush to observe her closely. After a minute of apparent hesitation, she rushed into the street and ran with all speed. They joined in hot pursuit, and soon overtook her. She pretended to be greatly alarmed, and called aloud for a watchman. The offenders were arrested and brought back to the house with the girl. Friend Hopper explained that these men had been watching his house, supposing a fugitive slave to be secreted there; and that they had mistaken one of his domestics for the person they were in search of. After laughing a little at the joke practised upon them, he proposed that they should be set at liberty; and they were accordingly released.

The next morning, as soon as it was light, he invited the watchers to come in and warm themselves, but they declined. After sunrise, they all dispersed, except two. When breakfast was ready, he urged them to come in and partake; telling them that one could keep guard while the other was eating. But they replied that Dr. Rich had ordered them to hold no communication with him.

Being firmly persuaded that the slave was in the house, they kept sentry several days and nights. For fear she might escape by the back way, a messenger was sent to Mr. Warrence, who occupied a building in the rear, offering to pay him for his trouble if he would watch the premises in that direction. His wife happened to overhear the conversation; and having a pitcher of scalding water in her hand, she ran out saying, "Do you propose to hire my husband to watch neighbor Hopper's premises for a runaway slave? Go about your business! or I will throw this in your face."

When Dr. Rich called again, he was received politely, and the first inquiry was how he had succeeded in his efforts to procure a search-warrant. He replied, "The magistrate refused to grant one."

"Perhaps Joseph Reed, the Recorder, would oblige thee in that matter,"

said Friend Hopper.

The answer was, "I have been to him, and he declines to interfere."

It was then suggested that it might be well to retain a lawyer with a portion of the seventeen hundred dollars he said he had to spare.

"I have been to Mr. Broome," rejoined the doctor. "He tells me that you understand the law in such cases as well as he does; and he advises me to let the matter alone."

"I will give thee permission to search my house," said Friend Hopper; "and I have more authority in that matter than any magistrate, judge, or lawyer, in the city."

"That is very gentlemanly," replied the doctor; "but I infer from it that the woman is not in your house."

He was again a.s.sured that she was not; and they fell into some general discourse on the subject of slavery. "Suppose you came to Maryland and lost your horse," said the Doctor. "If you called upon me, and I told you that I knew where he was, but would not inform you, would you consider yourself treated kindly?" "In such a case, I should not consider myself well treated," replied Friend Hopper. "But in this part of the country, we make a distinction between horses and men. We believe that human beings have souls."

"That makes no difference," rejoined the Doctor. "You confess that you could find my slave if you were so disposed; and I consider it your duty to tell me where she is." "I will do it when I am of the same opinion,"

replied Friend Hopper; "but till then thou must excuse me."

The fugitive was protected by a colored man named Hill, who soon obtained a situation for her as servant in a respectable country family, where she was kindly treated. In the course of a year or two, she returned to Philadelphia, married a steady industrious man, and lived very comfortably.

Mr. Hill had a very revengeful temper. One of his colored neighbors brought suits against him for criminal conduct, and recovered heavy damages. From that time he seemed to hate people of his own complexion, and omitted no opportunity to injure them. The woman he befriended, when he was in a better state of mind, had been married nine or ten years, and had long ceased to think of danger, when he formed the wicked project of making a little money by betraying her to her master.

Accordingly he sought her residence accompanied by one of those wretches who make a business of capturing slaves. When he entered her humble abode, he found her busy at the wash-tub. Rejoiced to see the man who had rendered her such essential service in time of need, she threw her arms about his neck, exclaiming, "O, uncle Hill, how glad I am to see you!" She hastily set aside her tub, wiped up the floor, and thinking there was nothing in the house good enough for her benefactor, she went out to purchase some little luxuries. Hill recommended a particular shop, and proposed to accompany her. The slave-hunter, who had been left in the street, received a private signal, and the moment she entered the shop, he pounced upon her. Before her situation could be made known to Isaac T. Hopper, she was removed to Baltimore. The last he ever heard of her she was in prison there, awaiting her day of sale, when she was to be transported to New-Orleans.

He used to say he did not know which was the most difficult for his mind to conceive of, the cruel depravity manifested by the ignorant colored man, or the unscrupulous selfishness of the slaveholder, a man of education, a husband and a father, who could consent to use such a tool for such a purpose.

Many more narratives of similar character might be added; for I think he estimated at more than one thousand the number of cases in which he had been employed for fugitives, in one way or another, during his forty years' residence in Philadelphia. But enough have been told to ill.u.s.trate the active benevolence, uncompromising boldness, and ready wit, which characterized this friend of humanity. His accurate knowledge of all laws connected with slavery was so proverbial, that magistrates and lawyers were generally averse to any collision with him on such subjects.

In 1810, Benjamin Donahue of Delaware applied to Mr. Barker, mayor of Philadelphia, to a.s.sist him in recovering a fugitive, with whose place of residence he was perfectly sure Isaac T. Hopper was acquainted. After a brief correspondence with Friend Hopper, the mayor said to Mr.

Donahue, "We had better drop this business, like a hot potato; for Mr.

Hopper knows more law in such cases as this, than you and I put together."

He would often resort to the most unexpected expedients. Upon one occasion, a slave case was brought before Judge Rush, brother of Dr.

Benjamin Rush. It seemed likely to terminate in favor of the slaveholder; but Friend Hopper thought he observed that the judge wavered a little. He seized that moment to inquire, "Hast thou not recently published a legal opinion, in which it is distinctly stated that thou wouldst never seek to sustain a human law, if thou wert convinced that it conflicted with any law in the Bible?"