stood, giving them every consolation and comfort, furnishing them with clothes, and attending to their wants, giving money to themselves and families, and procuring for them the best legal counsel. This I know, and much more of which it is not wise, even now, to speak: 't is enough to say they were friends when and where it cost something to be friends, and true brothers where brothers were needed.
After this lengthy digression, I will return, and speak of the riot and the events immediately preceding it.
The information brought by Mr. Williams spread through the vicinity like a fire in the prairies; and when I went home from my work in the evening, I found Pinckney (whom I should have said before was my brother-in-law), Abraham Johnson, Samuel Thompson, and Joshua Kite at my house, all of them excited about the rumor. I laughed at them, and said it was all talk. This was the 10th of September, 1851. They stopped for the night with us, and we went to bed as usual. Before daylight, Joshua Kite rose, and started for his home. Directly, he ran back to the house, burst open the door, crying, "O William! kidnappers! kidnappers!"
He said that, when he was just beyond the yard, two men crossed before him, as if to stop him, and others came up on either side. As he said this, they had reached the door. Joshua ran up stairs, (we slept up stairs,) and they followed him; but I met them at the landing, and asked, "Who are you?"
The leader, Kline, replied, "I am the United States Marshal."
I then told him to take another step, and I would break his neck.
He again said, "I am the United States Marshal."
I told him I did not care for him nor the United States. At that he turned and went down stairs.
Pinckney said, as he turned to go down,—"Where is the use in fighting? They will take us."
Kline heard him, and said, "Yes, give up, for we can and will take you anyhow."
I told them all not to be afraid, nor to give up to any slaveholder, but to fight until death.
"Yes," said Kline, "I have heard many a negro talk as big as you, and then have taken him; and I'll take you."
"You have not taken me yet," I replied; "and if you undertake it you will have your name recorded in history for this day's work."
Mr. Gorsuch then spoke, and said,—"Come, Mr. Kline, let's go up stairs and take them. We can take them. Come, follow me. I'll go up and get my property. What's in the way? The law is in my favor, and the people are in my favor."
At that he began to ascend the stair; but I said to him,—"See here, old man, you can come up, but you can't go down again. Once up here, you are mine."
Kline then said,—"Stop, Mr. Gorsuch. I will read the warrant, and then, I think, they will give up."
He then read the warrant, and said,—"Now, you see, we are commanded to take you, dead or alive; so you may as well give up at once."
"Go up, Mr. Kline," then said Gorsuch, "you are the Marshal."
Kline started, and when a little way up said, "I am coming."
I said, "Well, come on."
But he was too cowardly to show his face. He went down again and said,—"You had better give up without any more fuss, for we are bound to take you anyhow. I told you before that I was the United States Marshal, yet you will not give up. I'll not trouble the slaves. I will take you and make you pay for all."
"Well," I answered, "take me and make me pay for all. I'll pay for all."
Mr. Gorsuch then said, "You have my property."
To which I replied,—"Go in the room down there, and see if there is anything there belonging to you. There are beds and a bureau, chairs, and other things. Then go out to the barn; there you will find a cow and some hogs. See if any of them are yours."
He said,—"They are not mine; I
