Concklin had now become alarmed, and during the night he was much excited. He tried the windows of the room, and was about to jump from one of them, when Vina interposed. "Oh!" said she, "don't go out thar'. You'll be dashed to pieces, sir, jumpin' out o'

that ar high winder. Oh! if you had tuck my advice, and run off when they first cotch us, you'd 'a' been safe now, and it would n't 'a'

been no worse for us."

This was a gloomy night. None of the prisoners felt inclined to sleep. Liberty--the precious goal which they had almost grasped, was now beyond their reach--forever lost. "Well chillern," said the mother, "you all's got to cotch it now. You wont be the best hands on the place no more, and everything 'at's done wrong 'll be laid to you. But it can't be hoped--we's done the best we could, and now the Lord's all the friend we got."

Morning dawned at last, and after an early breakfast, Mr.

McKiernan came with his attendant, Emison, to conduct them to the boat.

How the sinews of, Levin and Peter ached for a race! If their mother and sister had been safe, would they have walked quietly down to the river, on whose bosom they were to be borne back to slavery? No, no--they would at least have made one, desperate effort to escape. But they could not desert those who were so dear to them; and so they meekly followed their old master, while they knew his footsteps led to the scene of cruel torture--perhaps even to death.

Once on board the boat--the "Paul Anderson," the negroes were deemed safe; still, whenever the boat landed they were closely watched. Concklin was kept confined in a state-room, where his poor friends had no chance to speak to him. They lay at night upon the cabin floor, and the young people slept. Their mother, too, several times grew drowsy, but the horrid dreams that came soon frightened sleep away. She heard every footstep; and towards morning, they were all aroused by people hurrying to and fro with lights, and calling to each other in every direction. The master came to Vina. "Where are the boys?" said he.

"Yon they lie, sir."

"Well, that rascal's gone."

"Is he?" Such was her only answer; but her heart beat quick with the hope that he had by some means, escaped in safety. The boat was searched in every part, but no trace of him was found.

Early in the morning, Mr. McKiernan, with his property, landed at Paducah, to wait for the "Greek Slave," which was expected to pa.s.s that day on her home trip from Louisville.

The mistress of the hotel where they stopped, took a great interest in the returning fugitives, and begged Mr. McKiernan to sell her the old woman and her daughter. He did not, however, seem anxious to dispose of them.

"How would you like to live with me?" said the lady herself to Vina.

"I don't know, ma'am; you mought be hard to please. I've had one hard missus, and I don't care, 'bout changin' for a worse one."

"Well," said the lady, "I give you my word, I would be kind to you.

You may ask any of my servants if I am hard to be suited."

But the old master listened with impatience to all her arguments. "I raised this family myself," said he, "and even if there is danger of their running off again, I may as well hold bad property as anybody else."

Such was his usual feeling whenever any one proposed to purchase one of his people. He disliked to part with them; not because he loved them--for we have seen that his heart knew no pity for their sufferings; but they were his, and he would rather buy than sell.

At about ten o'clock in the morning, the "Greek Slave" appeared, and the melancholy company were soon ascending the Tennessee.

The lonely quiet banks looked gloomy to them now, notwithstanding the trees were clothed in their freshest green, and wild flowers of every form and hue were nodding to their lovely images in the bright water. There was no Spring-time in their hearts. Darkness, like the shadow of Death, hung over their spirits, while the bright sunshine and the glad notes of a thousand birds but mocked their misery.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

PETER PLANS TO REDEEM HIS FAMILY.

As soon as Mr. Concklin left Philadelphia, Peter returned to his mother's house, and there remained, restless and anxious, for many weeks. At last his brother William, who had received a letter from Concklin, dated Princeton, Ia., March 24th, wrote to him that his family had arrived in a Free State. Immediately he hastened to Philadelphia, his heart swelling with the hope of soon embracing them; but the day after his arrival, alas! these glorious visions of approaching joy suddenly faded away.

"O, Peter,["] said his sister Mary, as he entered the room where she was sitting, "have you heard the news?"

He noticed that her voice trembled, and that her eyes were filled with tears; and his heart interpreted but too faithfully her emotion.

Still he answered calmly, "No."

"Sit down," said she, "and I will read it to you." She had the "Ledger" in her hand, and she read several extracts from Indiana papers, giving an account of the seizure of four slaves who had escaped from Bernard McKiernan, of South Florence, Ala., and also of a white man, calling himself Miller, who had them in charge.

Peter listened in silence. "It is just what I expected," said he in a hoa.r.s.e voice, when she had finished, "just what I told them all. Oh!

if they had heard to me!["]

For a time he seemed discouraged. His thoughts followed the trembling fugitives on their return, and under every torture which he had been accustomed to see inflicted upon runaways, he fancied that his dear wife and children, even then, were groaning.

A boy belonging to a pious man, near Tusc.u.mbia-- a cla.s.s leader in the Methodist Church--was, at the time Peter came away, wearing a heavy iron collar upon his neck, and a band of the same metal around his body. A rod of iron was welded to each of these upon his back, and extended further above his head than his hands could reach. Rods of iron were also fastened to the collar on each side, and at the point of each shoulder they were bent up, and reached higher than his head. To the highest of these rods a bell was fastened, which tinkled constantly. In the morning the boy was locked to the plough by a chain which was fastened to the band around his body, and thus he was obliged to plough till noon. The head-man then unlocked the chain, and led the mule away; leaving his fellow-slave to follow to the house. All the long afternoon he was forced to plough in the same manner; and at night, the head-man locked him in a cabin alone, and left him to cook his scanty supper and to get what rest his torturing irons would allow.

For several months he had already worn these cruel badges of the runaway--and now the father shuddered, as in imagination he saw his own beloved sons enduring similar punishments.

Another man, belonging to Mr. B--, of Tusc.u.mbia, died not long before Peter left that town, from wearing an iron collar in hot weather. It rubbed the skin off the poor fellow's neck, but his master swore he should wear it till he died. Soon was his threat fulfilled, for the flesh mortified under the heated iron, and when the sufferer uttered his last groan, the inhuman instrument was still upon his neck.

He knew also that even the women on McKiernan's place had learned to wear the irons. Well he remembered Marv--a beautiful woman, and a special favorite with her master, as all the pretty women were. She had received so much abuse from her mistress that her life was hateful to her, and at last she resolved to escape, for a time at least, from her persecutions. Accordingly she fled to the woods. The next Sunday morning the order was issued that no allowance should be given out till all the hands had been out to hunt Mary. Peter was there that day visiting his family, and as Vina was obliged to go, he joined the hunt, well knowing that such a course would gratify the master. They soon found her track, with here and there traces of corn and onions which had appeased her hunger. But few of the slaves, however, had any desire to find her, and those few were easily sent by the others in a wrong direction.

When night came, therefore, Mary had not been taken. All day they had rambled in the woods--fasting-- except that some had now and then seized a roasting ear as they pa.s.sed by a field of corn; they were delighted therefore, when, as the shades of night approached, they were suffered to go home, and to receive their week's allowance.

+0.

But notwithstanding the failure of this day's hunt, the search for Mary was at divers times repeated, and after having spent three or four months in the woods, she was brought in. Then came the punishment for her heinous crime. First, her master gave her a cruel beating, and then the overseer inflicted upon her naked back a like "correction ;" and after that, for a long time, she was daily stripped and beaten by her mistress's orders. This system was continued until she became so weak that they feared she would be "ruined," and then the irons were brought in requisition. The collar was welded on her slender neck, and a heavy band of iron upon her ankle. To this latter, one end of a heavy log-chain was attached, the other end of which was brought up and locked round her waist.

Month after month was the poor woman forced to wear these galling irons. Peter, himself, had often seen her coming from the field at night, "lookin' every minute like she would drop down to the ground with the weight of her shackles. She was raggetty and dirty too, for she hadn't no spirit left to wash and mend her clothes.*

* Vina says, "Mary done took so much whippin' that the flesh between her shoulders inflames nigh 'bout every year, and the skin looks like a dry brown crust. Then they has to send for the doctor, and he takes out a strip o' flesh five or six inches long. After a while her back heals up again, and she gits well enough to work.

They done quit 'busin' her now, and she works all the time in the field, 'cept they has a heap o' company,' or there's some great hurry o' sewin' gwine on. Then they brings her in for she's a elegant seamster, and understands all sorts o' house service."

" The image of this tortured woman would rise before him now--the clanking of her heavy chain would rack his ears. No wonder that he could not rest. No wonder that all labor and privation seemed as nothing if he could yet gain the ransom of his loved ones.

Peter started immediately for Cincinnati, in the hope of finding his late master, and obtaining his a.s.sistance in this, his pressing need.

But he was disappointed. Mr. Isaac Friedman was still in Illinois.

His brother Levi, however, warmly espoused his cause, and would have gone himself to Tusc.u.mbia, to try what could be done for the relief of the family, had he not been kindly warned that such a step would be both hazardous and futile. A friend of his in Franklin county, wrote him that the citizens of Tusc.u.mbia were highly incensed against both his brother and Peter, as in consequence of what the latter had said to Mrs. McKiernan, concerning Mr.

Friedman's partial promise to buy his family, they regarded them as instigators of the escape.*

* That this feeling was not, however, quite universal among the citizens is evident from an incident which occurred on board the "Greek Slave," as she lay at Tusc.u.mbia Landing, having on board the captured family. "Well, Old Woman," said a gentleman from town, who came on board to see them, "are you sorry for running away?" "No, Sir, I don't feel sorry;" replied Vina. "I think any person else would 'a' done like I have." "Yes, that's so," replied he, "I would have done the same thing myself. Peter is a good fellow too, and your master is an old rascal. Look here, if he takes a notion to sell you all, I'd like to buy you, for I believe you're an honest family, and I don't think the less of you for this," "I can't remember his name," said Vina, as she related the incident, "but he spoke mons's kind, and he's as fine looking a man, nigh 'bout, as ever I see."

But this did not discourage the anxious husband and father. He had brought from Philadelphia a letter of introduction to Levi Coffin, a worthy Friend, residing in Cincinnati. This he delivered, and Mr.

Coffin soon made his case known to several benevolent gentlemen in town. One of these, Mr. Samuel Lewis, at Peter's request, addressed a letter to Mr. L. B. Thornton, of Tusc.u.mbia, requesting him to ascertain from Mr. McKiernan, whether or not he would sell the family, and at what price he valued them, and asking him to write the result of his inquiries to William Still, of Philadelphia.

(Mr. Thornton was a young man much esteemed--a Virginian, who had for some time taught the boy's school in Tusc.u.mbia, while he pursued his law studies. Peter had often performed slight services for him, and always regarded him as one of his best friends.)

One day during his stay in Cincinnati, as Peter was standing upon the sidewalk, striving in his own mind to devise some means to hasten the release from bondage of those he loved, a pale lady, seated in a carriage, beckoned him towards her. He approached the carriage, and the lady asked him if he would like employment, and if he could drive. He replied in the affirmative, and was soon seated on the box. For several hours he drove her carriage about the city, and so kindly did she address him, that at last he told her all his grief. She listened with much interest to the story, and after expressing her sympathy with his sorrows, she told him that her husband was a friend of the unfortunate, and that perhaps he could a.s.sist him in his efforts to buy his family. She accordingly directed him to her husband's office, and entering, he found himself in the presence of Hon. Salmon P. Chase.

This good man, after hearing his simple tale, readily offered to do anything in his power to aid him. Peter then told him that to Mr.

John Gist, of Kentucky, a brother of his former master, Mr.

McKiernan was largely indebted; and that as he was an old servant of the family, he thought it possible that Mr. Gist would be able and willing to a.s.sist him in the purchase of his family. Before he left the office Mr. Chase wrote a letter to this gentleman, asking for information with regard to the best plan for getting the family and also if he could in any way aid the poor man in his efforts for their purchase.

From this letter Peter never heard, although he staid in Cincinnati more than three weeks after it was despatched.

Towards the last of June he returned with a heavy heart to his friends in New Jersey. He had done all he could, but nowhere could he discern a ray of hope. Yet he could not be idle; and as it seemed useless at that time to attempt any further steps towards the accomplishment of his one absorbing wish, he settled himself at service in Burlington, New Jersey.

His mistress, Mrs. Mary A. Buckman, treated him with uniform kindness, and with her aid and that of her two daughters, he commenced learning to read. We have before related his resolute attempts to learn the mysteries of letters during his few visits to the Sabbath School in Lexington, but that was long-- long years ago, and though he had then mastered the wondrous alphabet, and even learned to spell a few little words, he had never, since that time, been able to make the least advance in erudition, But now when through the kindness of these ladies, he became able to read, though but imperfectly, the precious words of the New Testament, he felt that his arduous efforts to be free had not been all in vain.

Sometime in the ensuing August came the following letter from Mr. McKiernan, to whom Mr. Thornton had referred the one which had been written to him from Cincinnati: "South Florence, Ala., 6th August, 1851.

"MR. WILLIAM STILL, NO. 31 NORTH FIFTH STREET,.