About five miles above Bainbridge in the Muscle Shoals, is an island containing about two hundred acres, which belongs to Mr.

McKiernan. Here young Peter and Levin were to be employed during the week; and, as the cotton-picking season was then at its height, they were obliged to go with their week's allowance on Sunday evening, that no time might be lost on Monday.

After the boys had gone, Peter's friends--and he had many on the place--all called to say, "Good bye," till Christmas; when they expected he would come, as usual, to spend the Holidays.

These partings over, he was left alone with his wife and daughter.

Poor Vina! she possessed not the buoyant hopes that filled her children's hearts--she was not so young as they;--and though she lacked not confidence in her husband's truth, yet she could not quell the fear that this was the last evening they should ever spend together. She selected from her simple wardrobe two or three articles of clothing which he had been accustomed to see her wear, and gave them to him. "When you want to see something that looks like me," said she, "you can look at these yer. They'll make you think of Vina."

Monday morning came, and Vina and Catharine must go early to the field, while the husband and father was forced to return to town to complete the arrangements for his final departure. They all arose at dawn and in the dim morning twilight--they parted.

Peter lingered a moment at the cabin door. How could he say "Good bye!" There stood his wife and daughter--and great tears were in their eyes. How gladly would he shield them from every breath of sorrow!--but now he could not stay. Once more he kissed them both--ah! was it for the last time? He could not speak, but with one long pressure of their hands, he tore himself away, and mounted his horse, which stood already at the door.

How the sobbings of these loved ones resounded the depths of his fond heart! For a moment he almost wished he had not thought of becoming free; but then the great glad hope of saving them returned, and he rejoiced that he had power to make the effort.

Heavy were the hearts of the mother and her children, as they traversed the long cotton rows that day; but their fingers must needs be light. The overseer's whip takes no note of aching hearts.

The baskets must be filled.

The light of hope soon returned to her children's eyes, but Vina was still in darkness. Accustomed to the helplessness of slavery, she could not realize that it was possible for her husband to be safe, "'way off yon' by himself, without anybody to take care of him."

The next Wednesday morning, November 13th, Mr. Alexander, to whose guardianship Peter had been consigned by Mr. Friedman, placed him on board the stage for Eastport, a small town at the foot of Colbert's Shoals, about thirty miles below Tusc.u.mbia. (The water was, at this time, so low in the river, that boats could not pa.s.s these shoals.) Here he took pa.s.sage on a small steamboat, with the Captain of which, Mr. George Warren, he was acquainted.

This boat, however, went no further than Paducah, at the mouth of the Tennessee, and there he was obliged to wait for a boat to ascend the Ohio. Soon one came along--a Cincinnati boat--bound homewards from St. Louis.

Peter stepped on board and inquired for the Captain, while two boys from Captain Warren's boat were bringing on his trunk. The boat was again under way, before the Captain could be found.

"Here," said the clerk, as at length his superior officer appeared, "this man wants to go to Cincinnati."

"Why didn't you name it before?" cried theCaptain in a pa.s.sionate voice; and, turning to the pilot, he ordered him to land and "set that fellow ash.o.r.e."

"But," said Peter, "I did inquire for the Captain--"

"Never mind, never mind, step right off."

"I have got a pa.s.s and other papers, and I want to go to Cincinnati, or leastway, to Louisville."

"Never mind--step right off--step right off."

Captain Warren seeing the distress of his humble friend, called out to the Commander of the Cincinnati boat--"It is all right--let the boy go. He has a pa.s.s, and everything regular."

But the little great man was inflexible. "Step right off--step right off"--was his only answer; and Peter was obliged to go ash.o.r.e and wait for another boat.

This was Sat.u.r.day evening, and here he remained till eleven o'clock on Sunday night, when Captain Francis' boat came down from Louisville. This was a Tennessee River Packet, but on account of the low water, she could not go up the river, and so made only short trips between Louisville and Paducah. Captain Francis having resided many years in Tusc.u.mbia, knew Peter well, and therefore hesitated not to take him up the river on his boat.

They reached Louisville on Wednesday morning, and as he would have several hours before the Cincinnati boat went out, he went to see Dr. Williamson Fisher, a son of his old master, John Fisher, of Lexington.

This gentleman received his father's former slave with great kindness; though he was so young when the two boys were sold to old Nattie Gist, that he scarcely remembered them. He had, however, in his possession the bill of sale which his father received at the time he bought them.

This short visit was highly enjoyed by Peter. The days of his childhood came vividly to his recollection and though they were not free from hardships, yet the sunshine of youthful hope had never ceased to gild their memory. What were the buffetings he then received compared to the anguish which he had suffered in later years. As a "little negro," he rose each morning from his ample couch--the floor, with supple limbs, and heart unmindful of the old day's sorrows, and ate with a keen relish his homely breakfast of corn cake. He thought of his far-off mother, and longed to return to her--but his attention was easily diverted by surrounding objects, and he was, after all, a merry child. During his manhood he had suffered few of the physical ills of slavery--but the iron had entered his soul. He had seen his fellows crushed--his brother beaten, even by the master whom he loved, because he could not stifle the pure affections of his heart; his own loved wife had been insulted--and well nigh murdered, because she would not submit to the vile wishes of a remorseless ruffian; and yet he had not dared to raise his voice, or lift his own right arm in their defence.

All these remniscences of other days crowded his memory as he stood in the presence of him who, when an infant in the cradle, was his "little master," and who had inherited from his father the price of his young nerves and sinews. And then came the sweet thought, that by his own exertions, through the blessing of that Father who had never yet forsaken him, he was no more a slave.

Dr. Fisher gave him much information concerning his early companions in Lexington; from many of whom he had not heard since he left there in his youth; but before he was half satisfied with listening to these interesting details, his time was spent, and he was forced to leave.

He next went in search of a young Mr. Johnson, from Tusc.u.mbia, to whom Mr. Alexander had sent a letter bespeaking his a.s.sistance, if necessary, in procuring a pa.s.sage for the bearer to Cincinnati.

This gentleman was pursuing the study of medicine in Louisville; and Peter went to the Medical College, and to various other places in the city, but failed to find him. He was now at a loss what to do, for he had learned from his experience at Paducah how little favor his pa.s.s would gain from the Captains of the Cincinnati boats.

He walked down to the wharf, and the first man he met there was a young Mr. McFarland, from Tusc.u.mbia, who had formerly been clerk on Captain Francis' boat. Mr. O'Reilly of the Telegraph was also there, and he immediately recognized Peter, having employed him during the time he spent in Tusc.u.mbia to take care of his office. These two gentlemen kindly procured a pa.s.sage for him on the boat to Cincinnati, and with many thanks for their friendly a.s.sistance, he went on board.

He had now bid a final adieu to slave-land, still his heart was not at rest. For himself he had little fear. His free papars were safe, and he was at length beyond the necessity of affecting any relationship to slavery. But his family--ah! when he thought how long a time might pa.s.s before they could be loosed from bondage, he could only trust in the power above, and pray for patience.

He was disappointed in his hope of finding Mr. Friedman in Cincinnati, he having gone to Illinois. Peter therefore hastened on to Pittsburg, and thence to--Philadelphia. His free papers he carried in his pocket, but as no zealous negro-catcher chanced to fix upon him his greedy eye, he had no need to show them on the way.

CHAPTER x.x.xI.

THE ESCAPE.

LATE at night, on the thirtieth of November, Peter reached his brother's house in Philadelphia. He trembled not now, as when at first his foot approached his kinsman's threshold. A sense of personal security rested upon his heart, and the light of quiet happiness beamed from his smiling face.

During the few days which he spent with his brother William, the idea of sending a man to rescue his family was again suggested.

Many of his brother's friends were earnest advocates of such a plan. It would take too long to raise the sum requisite to purchase them, and besides, the offering of money for their ransom would in some sense recognize the right of the slaveholder to claim property in human flesh. "We are anxious" they said, "to aid your loved ones in escaping from bondage, but we cannot bear to give gold to him who has so long defrauded the helpless laborers of their hire."

To all these arguments of his friends, Peter opposed the dangers of their scheme. It would, he said, be very difficult for them to escape; and then, if they should be pursued and taken, the sufferings of their whole past lives were nothing to the punishment they might receive. And worst of all, they might be sold; and then all chance of getting them would be for ever lost.

But those to whose proposal he objected were educated men, while he was but a poor emanc.i.p.ated slave, who never in his life had read a book--and their persuasions triumphed. He described to them, though with reluctance, the location of the premises where his family might be found, and also the persons of his wife and children.

He then left these friends to mature their plan, while he went to visit his mother. He was deeply anxious concerning the result of the deliberations then going on in Philadelphia, for he could not yet give up the idea which he had so long cherished--that of attempting the purchase of those whose safety he prized above all other objects.

Many people in the vicinity of his mother's home had heard of the return of the long-lost son and brother, and now, when they learned his anxiety to redeem his family they kindly volunteered to aid him. He accepted with a grateful heart the contributions which they offered, though how they could be made available was still a question.

When he had been two weeks in New Jersey, he received a letter requesting his immediate return to Philadelphia, and he hasted to obey the summons. He had already received one hundred dollars as the beginning of a fund to ransom those he loved, and that he took with him to the city.

During his absence, a man named Seth Concklin, who had heard of his case, had offered to go to Alabama, and bring his wife and children. He asked no further equipment for the journey than sufficient money to defray his necessary expenses, and some sign whereby the family would recognize him as a friend.

Peter's heart trembled. To the proposal of his friends he had a.s.sented; but then it was indefinite, and he doubted the possibility of their finding a man who would face the dangers of such an undertaking. He had all the time cherished a secret hope that they would yet abandon this project, and aid him in accomplishing the plan which he so much preferred. Not that he thought it would be unjust or wrong to aid them to escape. Ah, no! He had never yet become so thoroughly enslaved in spirit as for a moment to recognize the right of man to hold his brother man in bonds; but merely as a matter of policy he had chosen to purchase their freedom--though to do so would cost him both toil and patience.

Now, however, the scheme was all arranged, and these good friends had manifested so warm an interest in promoting his happiness that he could not refuse them all the aid which it was in his power to give.

He accordingly gave Concklin an accurate description of Mr.

McKiernan's place, with directions concerning the best methods of approaching it. He told him also the names and ages of his family; and gave him a cape of Vina's-- one of the articles of dress which she had given him as a keepsake. "When she sees this," said he, "she will know that you are a friend; but please, sir, be careful and don't get 'em into trouble. It'll go mighty hard with 'em if they try to run off, and Mr. McKiernan cotches 'em."

The one hundred dollars which Peter had received in New Jersey was now devoted to defraying the cost of this expedition, and early in January, all the arrangements having been completed, Concklin entered upon his perilous undertaking.

We subjoin the account which is given by Rev. Dr. Furness, of Concklin's introduction to the friends of the slave in Philadelphia, and also of the first steps that were taken in this daring enterprise.

"Of this remarkable person, whose history, and heroic tragedy, must not be suffered to die, but very little was known at that time.

He was not a member of any Abolition Society, nor was it known that he had any fixed residence. A man, plainly dressed, and slightly built, but evidently active and vigorous, with a face expressive of great decision, had come occasionally to the Anti-Slavery Office in Philadelphia, to inquire about Mr. Chaplin, then in prison in Maryland, for aiding certain slaves in an attempt to escape from the District of Columbia. The stranger manifested a deep interest in Mr. Chaplin's fate, contributed a small sum monthly to the Chaplin fund, and on one occasion produced a statement in writing of a plan, which he had devised, subject to the approval of Mr. Chaplin's friends, whereby he offered to go to Maryland, liberate Mr. Chaplin, and bring him safely into the Free States; requiring only a moderate sum to defray his expenses. The scheme was striking for its boldness and sagacity, but all partic.i.p.ation in it was declined by the agents of the Anti-Slavery Society, on the obvious ground that it was not by such methods that they were seeking the Abolition of Slavery. (It is not an object of the Society to a.s.sist, directly or indirectly, in the abduction of slaves.) The proposals, however, on the part of Mr. Concklin, served to show the character of the man. It was made apparent that he was an Abolitionist on his own account. He was understood to be one of those few men in whom the hatred of slavery has become a ruling pa.s.sion. He was a whole Abolition Society in himself; with very limited pecuniary means indeed, but with, what is infinitely better than uncounted gold, a single and commanding purpose, which danger could not shake, but only animate. His subsequent history, and all that was afterwards ascertained of his previous life, only corroborated the impressions received of his character "upon the occasions of these visits to the Anti-slavery office. He was a man whose const.i.tutional love of adventure, exercised from early boyhood by a series of privations and trials that would have broken down any ordinary man, had come to be consecrated to the knightly office of succoring the miserable; and especially the enslaved, as of all men the most to be commiserated. In contrast with his tried heroism, the wordy chivalry of the South shows as rags and tinsel.

"As soon as he was informed of the condition of Peter's family, he offered, with the help of a small sum to defray his travelling expenses, to go to Alabama, and bring them into the free State of Pennsylvania. He asked for no companion, and no compensation; only for the means of paying the expenses of the journey, and for credentials to satisfy Peter's wife that he came from her husband.