she turned the b.u.t.t end of the cowhide and struck me five or six blows over my head as hard as she could; she then throwed the cowhide down and told a little girl to untie me. The little girl was not able to do it; Mr. McCaully then untied me himself. Both times that I was beat the blood run down from my head to my feet.

"They wouldn't give you anything to eat hardly. McCaully bore the name of coming by free colored children without buying them, and selling them afterwards. One boy on the place always said that he was free but had been kidnapped from Arkansas. He could tell all about how he was kidnapped, but could not find anybody to do anything for him, so he had to content himself.

"McCaully bought me from a man by the name of Landers. While in Landers'

hands I had the rheumatism and was not able to work. He was afraid I was going to die, or he would lose me, and I would not be of any service to him, so he took and traded me off for a wagon. I was something better when he traded me off; well enough to be about. My health remained bad for about four years, and I never got my health until Moore bought me.

Moore took me for a debt. McCaully owed Moore for wagons. I was not born in Missouri but was born in Virginia. From my earliest memory I was owned by Conrad Hackler; he lived in Grason County. He was a very poor man, and had no other slave but me. He bought me before I was quite four years old, for one hundred dollars. Hackler bought me from a man named William Scott. I must go back by good rights to the beginning and tell all: Scott bought me first from a young man he met one day in the road, with a bundle in his arms. Scott, wishing to know of the young man what he had in his bundle, was told that he had a baby. 'What are you going to do with it?' said Scott. The young man said that he was going to take it to his sister; that its mother was dead, and it had n.o.body to take care of it. Scott offered the young man a horse for it, and the young man took him up. This is the way I was told that Scott came by me. I never knowed anything about my mother or father, but I have always believed that my mother was a white woman, and that I was put away to save her character; I have always thought this. Under Hackler I was treated more like a brute than a human being. I was fed like the dogs; had a trough dug out of a piece of wood for a plate. After I growed up to ten years old they made me sleep out in an old house standing off some distance from the main house where my master and mistress lived. A bed of straw and old rags was made for me in a big trough called the tan trough (a trough having been used for tanning purposes). The cats about the place came and slept with me, and was all the company I had. I had to work with the hoe in the field and help do everything in doors and out in all weathers. The place was so poor that some seasons he would not raise twenty bushels of corn and hardly three bushels of wheat. As for shoes I never knowed what it was to have a pair of shoes until I was grown up. After I growed up to be a woman my master thought nothing of taking my clothes off, and would whip me until the blood would run down to the ground. After I was twenty-five years old they did not treat me so bad; they both professed to get religion about that time; and my master said he would never lay the weight of his finger on me again.

Once after that mistress wanted him to whip me, but he didn't do it, nor never whipped me any more. After awhile my master died; if they had gone according to law I would have been hired out or sold, but my mistress wanted to keep me to carry on the place for her support. So I was kept for seven or eight years after his death. It was understood between my mistress, and her children, and her friends, who all met after master died, that I was to take care of mistress, and after mistress died I should not serve anybody else. I done my best to keep my mistress from suffering. After a few years they all became dissatisfied, and moved to Missouri. They scattered, and took up government land. Without means they lived as poor people commonly live, on small farms in the woods. I still lived with my mistress. Some of the heirs got dissatisfied, and sued for their rights or a settlement; then I was sold with my child, a boy."

Thus Aunt Hannah reviewed her slave-life, showing that she had been in the hands of six different owners, and had seen great tribulation under each of them, except the last; that she had never known a mother's or a father's care; that Slavery had given her one child, but no husband as a protector or a father. The half of what she pa.s.sed through in the way of suffering has scarcely been hinted at in this sketch. Fifty-seven years were pa.s.sed in bondage before she reached Philadelphia. Under the good Providence through which she came in possession of her freedom, she found a kind home with a family of Abolitionists, (Mrs. Gillingham's), whose hearts had been in deep sympathy with the slave for many years. In this situation Aunt Hannah remained several years, honest, faithful, and obliging, taking care of her earnings, which were put out at interest for her by her friends. Her mind was deeply imbued with religious feeling, and an unshaken confidence in G.o.d as her only trust; she connected herself with the A.M.E. Bethel Church, of Philadelphia, where she has walked, blameless and exemplary up to this day. Probably there is not a member in that large congregation whose simple faith and whose walk and conversation are more commendable than Aunt Hannah's. Although she has pa.s.sed through so many hardships she is a woman of good judgment and more than average intellect; enjoys good health, vigor, and peace of mind in her old days, with a small income just sufficient to meet her humble wants without having to live at service. After living in Philadelphia for several years, she was married to a man of about her own age, possessing all her good qualities; had served a life-time in a highly respectable Quaker family of this city, and had so won the esteem of his kind employer that at his death he left him a comfortable house for life, so that he was not under the necessity of serving another. The name of the recipient of the good Quaker friend's bounty and Aunt Hannah's companion, was Thomas Todd. After a few years of wedded life, Aunt Hannah was called upon to be left alone again in the world by the death of her husband, whose loss was mourned by many friends, both colored and white, who knew and respected him.

KIDNAPPING OF RACHEL AND ELIZABETH PARKER--MURDER OF JOSEPH C. MILLER IN 1851 AND 1852.

Those who were interested in the Anti-Slavery cause, and who kept posted with reference to the frequent cases of kidnapping occurring in different Free States, especially in Pennsylvania, during the twenty years previous to emanc.i.p.ation, cannot fail to remember the kidnapping of Rachel and Elizabeth Parker, and the murder of Joseph C. Miller, who resided in West Nottingham township, Chester county, Pennsylvania, in the latter part of 1851, and the beginning of 1852.

Both the kidnapping and the murder at the time of the occurrence shocked and excited the better thinking and humane cla.s.ses largely, not only in Pennsylvania, but to a considerable extent over the Northern States. It may be said, without contradiction, that Chester county, at least, was never more aroused by any one single outrage that had taken place within her borders, than by these occurrences. For a long while the interest was kept alive, and even as lately as the past year (1870), we find the case still agitating the citizens of Chester county. Judge Benjamin I.

Pa.s.smore, of said county, in defence of truth in an exhaustive article published in the "Village Record," West Chester, Oct. 12th, 1870, gives a reliable version of the matter, from beginning to end, which we feel constrained to give in full, as possessing great historical value, bearing on kidnapping in general, especially in Pennsylvania.

TOM M'CREARY.

FRIEND EVANS:--I noticed in the "Village Record," a short time since, an article taken from the Delaware "Transcript," an obituary notice of the death of the noted character, whose name heads this article, in which false statements were made, relative to the outrage he committed in kidnapping Rachel and Elizabeth Parker, two colored girls who were then, 1851, residing in the southern portion of Chester county. In your paper of the 13th ult., I also read an answer to the charges and insinuations made in the "Transcript," against Joseph C. Miller, (whose life was basely destroyed), and other citizens of Chester county; as the occurrence took place in my immediate neighborhood, and I was familiar with all the facts and circ.u.mstances, I propose to give a truthful history of that vile and wicked transaction.

In the winter of 1851, the said McCreary in some unexplained way, took Elizabeth Parker, one of the said colored girls, from the house of one Donally (not McDonald), in the township of East Nottingham, where she was living; but little was said about it by Donally, or any one else. Soon after, McCreary with two or three others of like proclivities, called at the house of Joseph C. Miller, in West Nottingham, where Rachel was living, and seized her, gagged her, and placed her in a carriage and drove off. The screams of Mrs. Miller and her children, soon brought the husband and father to the rescue; he pursued them on foot, and at a short distance overtook them in a narrow private road, disputing with James Pollock, the owner of the land, whose wagon prevented them from pa.s.sing. They turned and took another road, and came out at Stubb's Mill, making for the Maryland line with all possible speed; they arrived at Perryville before the train for Baltimore. Eli Haines and a young man named Wiley, who lived near Rising Sun, Maryland, about two miles from Joseph C.

Miller's, arrived at the same place soon after, intending to go to Philadelphia. Mr. Haines knew Rachel, and seeing McCreary there, and her so overwhelmed in sorrow, at once guessed the situation of affairs, and he and Wiley changed their intentions of going to Philadelphia, and went in the same car with McCreary and his victim, to Baltimore, and quietly watched what disposition would be made of her, as they felt certain pursuit would be made.

As soon as possible, after McCreary had escaped from West Nottingham, Joseph C. Miller, William Morris, Abner Richardson, Jesse B. Kirk, and H.G. Coates, started in pursuit on horseback; when they arrived at Perryville, the train had gone, with the kidnapper and the girl; they followed in the next train. Soon after they arrived in Baltimore, they were met by Haines and Wiley, who had been on the lookout for a pursuing party, and they gave the information that Rachel was deposited in Campbell's slave-pen. They were directed by an acquaintance of one of the party, to Francis S. Cochran, a prominent member of the Society of Friends. Francis informed them he was well acquainted with Campbell, and he at once accompained them.

Campbell a.s.sured Friend Cochran that whilst he approved of Slavery and catching runaway slaves, he despised kidnapping and kidnappers; and on the arrival of McCreary, he ordered him to remove Rachel forthwith, which he proceeded to do. Friend Cochran insisted on going with them, and saw the girl deposited in jail to await a legal investigation. By this time it was evening, and the Chester county men all went home with Cochran, where they had their suppers; the excitement being great, Friend Cochran did not consider it safe for them to go to the depot direct; he procured their tickets and had them driven by a circuitous route to the depot, charging them to keep together, and take their seats in the cars at once. Soon after they were seated and before the cars started, Miller stepped out on the platform to smoke, against the expostulations of his friends.

Jesse B. Kirk, his brother-in-law and Abner Richardson followed immediately, and although they were right at his heels, he was gone; they called him by name, and stepped down into the crowd, but soon became alarmed for their own safety, and returned to their seats. A consultation was held, and it was agreed that Wiley, who was least known, and not directly identified with the affair, should pa.s.s through the train when it started, and see if Miller had not mistakenly got into another car. At Stemen's Run station, Wiley returned to the party with the sad tidings that Joseph C. Miller was not in that train. On consultation, it was agreed that Jesse B. Kirk and Abner Richardson should return from Perryville in the next train, and prosecute further search for Miller. They did so return, and McCreary also returned to Baltimore in the same car, he having left Baltimore in the car in the evening with the Chester county men; they arrived late in the night, and locked themselves up in a room in the first hotel they came to. Their search was fruitless, and they were forced to return home with the sad tidings that Miller could not be found. This intelligence aroused the whole neighborhood; public meetings were held to consult about what was best to be done.

The writer presided at one of those meetings, which was largely attended, and it was with difficulty that the people could be restrained from organizing an armed force to kidnap and lynch McCreary. Better counsels, however, finally prevailed and it was resolved to send a party to Baltimore to prosecute further the search for Miller. About twenty men volunteered for the service; I went to the house of Joseph C. Miller, the morning they were to start, but they had met at Lewis Mellrath's, a brother-in-law of Miller. I was there endeavoring to console the aged mother and distracted wife and children of Joseph C. Miller, when word came that he had been found hanging to a limb in the bushes near Stemen's Run station, and such a scene of distress I hope may never again be my lot to witness; it was heart-rending in the extreme.

The party went to Baltimore, and such was the excitement that it was considered unsafe for the party to go out in a body in day-time. Levi K. Brown, who then resided in Baltimore, went with them by moonlight, and they disinterred the body, which they found about two feet under ground, in a rough box, with a narrow lid that freely admitted the dirt to surround his body in the box. No undertaker in Baltimore could be found that would allow the body left at his place of business whilst a coffin was prepared, and it was deposited in "Friends'" vault; a coffin was finally procured and William Morris and Abner Richardson started with it for his home. When they arrived at Perryville no one would render them any a.s.sistance, and they were compelled to leave the corpse in an old saw mill, and walk up to Port Deposit, a distance of five miles, in the night, the weather being extremely cold, and a deep snow on the ground. There they procured horses and a sled and started with the body, but when within a short distance of the Pennsylvania line they were overtaken by a messenger with a requisition from the Governor of Maryland to return the body to Baltimore county, in order that an inquisition and post-mortem examination might be held in legal form. With sorrowful hearts they turned back; (one of these young men told me that at no place south of Port Deposit could they get any one to a.s.sist them in handling the corpse).

By this time the affair had created a great excitement, both in Chester county and the City of Baltimore. Rev. John M. d.i.c.key, Hon. Henry S. Evans, then a member of the Senate. Brinton Darlington, then Sheriff of Chester county, and very many of the leading men took a deep interest in the matter; we all did our part. The Society of Friends in Baltimore took the matter in hand, and many other worthy citizens belonging to the Presbyterian Church and others lent their aid and influence.

Hon. Henry S. Evans, who was then in the Senate of Pennsylvania, brought the matter before the Legislature, and the result was that the Governor appointed Judges Campbell and Bell, the latter of our county, to defend these two poor colored girls thus foully kidnapped.

The body of Miller underwent a post-mortem examination in Baltimore county, at which a great number of rowdies attended, who occupied their time drinking whisky and cursing the Pennsylvania Abolitionists; the body finally reached its distressed home for interment. Drs. Hutchinson and d.i.c.key were called upon to make an examination, at which I was present, and all were clearly of opinion that he had been foully murdered.

His wrists and ankles bore the unmistakable marks of manacles; across the abdomen was a black mark as if made by a rope or cord; the end of his nose bore marks as if held by some instrument of torture. His funeral took place, and his remains were followed to the grave by an immense concourse of sympathizing friends and neighbors.

Such, however, was the excitement, that the public demanded a further examination; he was disinterred again, and the same two eminent physicians made a thorough post-mortem examination, and one of them told the writer that there were not two ounces of contents in his stomach and bowels, and that there was abundant evidence of the presence of a.r.s.enic. His remains were again interred and suffered to remain undisturbed.

The theory of his friends was that he had been suddenly s.n.a.t.c.hed from the platform of the car in the Baltimore Depot, gagged, stripped, and lashed down by the ankles and wrists, and a rope across his abdomen, that his nose had been held by some instrument, and that he was in this situation drenched with a.r.s.enic, and puked and purged to death, and that McCreary, or some one for him, had heard Wiley repeat at Stemen's Run Station, that he was not on the train, conceived the idea of taking his body there and hanging it to a tree to convey the idea that he had committed suicide at that place, and such was the statement published by some of the Maryland newspapers. His companions said he eat a very hearty supper that evening at Francis S. Cochran's, which with the other facts that his clothing were not soiled, and his stomach and bowels were empty, goes strongly to substantiate the theory that he had been stripped and foully murdered, as above indicated. Never was there a more false a.s.sertion than that the "broad brimmed Quakers in Pennsylvania were accomplices of McCreary," as it is well known that opposition to slavery has been a cardinal principle of the Society of Friends for a century. And that Joseph C. Miller committed suicide because of his being implicated in the kidnapping is a base fabrication. I knew Joseph C. Miller from boyhood intimately, and I here take pleasure in saying that he was an honest, una.s.suming man, of good moral character and stern integrity, and would have spurned the idea of any complication, directly or indirectly, with slavery or kidnapping.

It appears his foul murder was not sufficient to satisfy the friends of slavery and kidnapping, but an attempt is now made, after the victim has slumbered near twenty years in the grave, to blast his good name by insinuating that he was a party, or implicated in the vile transactions here narrated.

Rachel remained in jail; Elizabeth, who had been sold to parties in New Orleans, was sent for by Campbell, ample security having been given that she should be returned if proved to be a slave.

Their trial finally came on, and after a long and tedious investigation they were both proven, by hosts of respectable witnesses to be free. They returned to their mother, in Chester county, who was still living.

The Grand Jury of Chester county found a true bill against McCreary for kidnapping, a requisition was obtained, and B.

Darlington, Esq., then High Sheriff, proceeded with it to Annapolis; but the Governor of Maryland refused to allow McCreary to be arrested in that State.

Thus terminated this terrible affair, which cost the State of Pennsylvania nearly $3000, as well as a heavy expense to many citizens of Baltimore, and those of this county who took an active part, and whilst it is to be hoped that the princ.i.p.al actor in this sad transaction fully atoned for his evil deeds, whilst living, and his friends may have had a right to eulogize him after death, they should not have gone out of their way to traduce other parties, dead and alive, whose reputations were known by living witnesses, to be beyond reproach.

JUSTICE.

ARRIVAL FROM VIRGINIA, 1854.

TUCKER WHITE.

Tucker reported that he fled from Major Isaac Roney, of Dinwiddie Court-House, Virginia, in the Christmas week prior to his arrival; that he reached Petersburg and then encountered difficulties of the most trying nature; he next stopped at City Point, and was equally unfortunate there. From exposure in the cold he was severely frost-bitten. While suffering from the frost he was kept in the poor-house. After partial recovery he made his way to Baltimore and thence to Philadelphia. Once or twice he was captured and carried back.

The Committee suspected that he was a cunning impostor who had learned how to tell a tale of suffering simply to excite the sympathies of the benevolent; yet, with the map of Virginia before them, he proved himself familiar with localities adjacent to the neighborhood in which he was raised. Although not satisfied with his statement, the Committee decided to aid him.

Pa.s.smore Williamson, who had taken a deep interest in the examination of his case, in order to ascertain the facts, addressed the following note to Major Roney, using as his signature the name of his friend, Wm. J.

Canby:

PHILADELPHIA, June 24, 1854.

MAJOR ISAAC RONEY:

DEAR SIR:--Within a few days past a colored man has been traversing the streets of this city, exciting the sympathies of the benevolent by the recital of a tale of the hardships he has lately pa.s.sed through. He represents himself to be Tucker White, your slave, a carpenter by trade, and that he escaped from your service last Christmas. He is quite dark in complexion, rather over the medium size, and a little lame; the latter, probably, from the effects of frost on his feet, from which, he alleges, he suffered severely.

He seems to be well acquainted with the adjoining localities, but altogether his narrative is almost incredible, and I am therefore induced to make the inquiry whether such a man has escaped from your service or lately left your neighborhood. We are perfectly flooded with such vagrants. It would be a great relief if some measures could be resorted to to keep them under legal restraint. An answer addressed to No. 73 South 4th Street, above Walnut, will reach me, and oblige, Yours, &c.

WM. J. CANBY.

Weeks pa.s.sed, but no answer came from the Major. All hope was abandoned of obtaining a more satisfactory clue to the history of Tucker White.

About three months, however, after Mr. Williamson had written, the appended note came as an answer:

MR. CANBY:

Major Roney received a letter from you relative to his boy, Tucker White, and has sent me here to inquire of you his whereabouts now. If you know anything concerning him and will give me such information so I can get him, you will be rewarded for your trouble. You will please address,

No. 147 American Hotel.

The Major would have sent on sooner but he has been sick, and the letter laid in Office several days.