Sketches in the History of the Underground Railroad/Chapter VIII
CHAPTER VIII.
Among the exciting incidents connected with the U. G. R. R., no case excited our sympathy more than that of George and Clara. George had been his young master’s body servant; was of medium height and fine proportions, intelligent, respectful, and uncommonly efficient in business. Clara was his sister; she had been lady’s maid, and had never been overtasked with hard work. Both of them had seen a good deal of polite society, and availed themselves of such advantages as came in their way to acquire information, and some of the rudiments of an education. They were polite and respectful in their manners, and were as contented and happy as people in their condition could be, and perhaps they would have remained in slavery, rather than run the risk of the terrible punishment they knew awaited them, if they should be captured, had not her master sold Clara to a trader, who boasted that he could sell her in New Orleans for $3,000. His excuse for selling her? when his family remonstrated, was that she was insolent and refused to obey him. The usual remedy for such fault having failed, he sold her; the particular thing in which she disobeyed he said little about,—whatever it was, it had not reduced her market value.
A peculiar affection had always existed between the brother and sister. Few slaves had as many comforts and advantages as George, yet he loved his sister more than all other things, and when he heard that she was sold, and her probable fate, he decided at once to save her or die in the attempt. Having traveled with his master, he knew the roads, and what was of more importance, he knew many slaves in most of the towns along their route.
From the time they started from near the capitol of Kentucky, until they arrived at Oberlin, a noted U. G. R. R. station, within a few miles of Lake Erie, was many, weeks, yet there was hardly an hour in which they were not in imminent danger of being captured. Major Curtis, their master, employed Bill Shea, the most noted slave catcher in the State, to aid in capturing them, but George managed to throw the dogs off the track. They went southeast, then turning northeast they got into the mountains, and after four weeks they crossed the Ohio River, near Parkersburgh, in West Virginia. Our enterprising conductor near that town had them in charge before they crossed over. The pursuit was so hot and well conducted, that although their track had been often lost, it had been as often recovered, and the conductors were many times driven to their wit’s end in eluding the pursuers. When they arrived at the aforesaid station, they were safe for the time; they might stay there, for they were well secreted, besides, slave-hunters themselves were not in a safe place if found prowling about Oberlin College.
Curtis was determined to capture them at all hazards. He employed spies at different points along the line, and at all the Lake ports from Cleveland all the way to Buffalo. He stayed at Cleveland, but Bill was setting his traps along the line. As soon as it was supposed that the pursuit had been abandoned, George and Clara were started east along the line, with a sharp look-out ahead. The spies had been outwitted, and the fugitives had passed this point, when a dispatch came along the line (not by telegraph, no wires had then been put up), that all the crossings at Buffalo, Black Rock and Niagara Falls, were unsafe.
They were then hidden away until an opportunity offered to smuggle them, in disguise, on to a steamboat at her first stopping place on her way from Buffalo to Detroit. When the boat came to the dock it was 10 o’clock in the evening, and when the crew commenced “wooding up,” two new hands, dressed as sailors, came from among the wood piles, and though somewhat awkward, they worked with all their might, and when the wood was all loaded, they went aboard with the sailors, and were soon on their way.
Meanwhile, Bill Shea, Curtis’ accomplice, having been baffled, had returned to Cleveland to consult with Curtis. They decided to abandon the pursuit, and take the first boat for Sandusky, thence by stage to Cincinnati. The boat on which our fugitives had taken passage was one of the finest side-wheel steamers on the lake, commanded by Captain Titus, a very popular captain, and the same who was in command of the Erie when she was burned off Silver Creek. The boat stopped at Cleveland for passengers, and just as she was starting off, Curtis and Bill came running and jumped on board. When they called at the office to pay their passage to Sandusky, the clerk said, “We do not stop there, we run to Detroit direct.” “Well, Major,” said Bill, “we are in for it, I guess it’s your treat,” and they passed down toward the bar. Bill could never pass anybody without looking to see if they answered the description of some slave advertisement of which he had his hat full. In pursuit of this laudable object, he stopped to look at two individuals dressed in sailor costume, seated among the bales of freight. At the first glance he knew his man. Stepping back, he seized the Major and turned him about, saying, “There he is; Major, if that isn’t George, may I never see Lize again or have a nibble at her corn dodgers.” Curtis looked at them, recognized both, and said, “Bill, the other one is the girl, dressed up in sailor toggery.” By this time the fugitives had seen and recognized their pursuers, and were so agitated that they could not utter a syllable. Curtis walked up to them and said, “How do ye do? got into business, ha ? how do you like it? wasn’t aware that you understood this business. Clara could do better with women’s clothes on. Come, go with me, I’ll introduce you to the captain; it would be the making of this boat to have you in the ladies’ cabin. I should think by your appearance that you are sick of the business, and maybe you would like to go home; if so, you can go with us, as we are going right back. How lucky for you that we happened to meet.” The talk was embellished with horrid oaths, and continued a long time without a word in answer from the frightened fugitives.
Captain Titus happened to he passing, and stopped to witness the scene. He had seen and heard it all. When Curtis saw him he said, “Well, captain, I am in luck this time! Here I have been chasing these slaves of mine up and down this Lake shore about a month, and finally lost track of them and started for home. Bill and I have, I fear, committed a sin in swearing about getting on the wrong boat, and now it appears that a kind Providence has directed our steps all the time without our asking. How long have they been in your employ ? One of them is a girl! didn’t yon know it? ”When he stopped and gave a chance to answer, the Captain said, “I know nothing about it. I saw them here this morning, and suppose they came aboard somewhere last night.” “All right,” said Curtis, “and Captain, I want you to do me a favor. You go to Detroit, I believe.” “Yes,” said the Captain. “Well, if you will stop your boat at a convenient place in Detroit Diver, and let us ashore, I will give you a hundred dollars. The city of Detroit is a very unsafe place in which to handle this kind of property.” “Very well,” said the Captain, “I will land at any place you choose, and will charge you nothing for it.” “Thank you,” said Curtis, “but I shall pay you well for the favor.”
Captain Titus turned and walked toward his office, beckoning his mate, who had heard the last part of the conversation, to go with him. They entered the office and the Captain locked the door, and taking a seat he exclaimed, “‘Pay well for the favor!’ I’ll put him and his hound ashore as I promised, without reward, but as for those poor frightened fugitives, nothing was said about them, and there is not money enough in Kentucky to induce me to put them ashore with him. ‘Pay well for the favor!’ I have already been paid well for the favor that shall be theirs.”
Captain Titus was deeply affected, and sat some time apparently unable to speak. As soon as he could, he said to his mate, “William, you were not on that unfortunate boat with me when she was burned, and I think you never saw James B, my colored steward on that boat. He was of the same race as the millions of men, women and children that are held in bondage under the flag that flies at our mast-head. The only shameful thing that can be said of the old flag is that it protects men in doing so foul a deed. I did not always feel so about it, in fact, I thought little about it one way or the other, but it is a live question with me now, and I will tell you how it came about, for I wish you to aid me in this matter, and hope to have your sympathy also. I will not recall the terrible scenes through which we passed in that awful hour. James stood by me to the last, and when the officers and crew had manned the boats and gone ashore with as many as they could carry, there were still men struggling in the water and trying to keep afloat until a vessel that was in sight could come to our rescue. James was a good swimmer, but I could not swim at all. The flames would soon drive us to the' water, and I said, ‘Could you swim ashore?’ ‘Oh, yes’ said he, ‘easily enough, but Captain, I shall stay by you.’ I felt sure there was no help for me, and that he could render me no assistance, so I urged him to try and save himself. He made no answer, and we were soon driven into the water; he gave me directions how to manage in holding on to him so as to leave him as free in his motions as possible. I cannot dwell on this subject. In short, I became too much exhausted to hold on to him, when he held me with one hand and sustained us both. I urged him to save himself, as I was sure he could not save both of us, but, said he, 1 Captain? do you think I’ll desert my best friend in such a place as this ? No, sir ! if you go down, we will go together/ When we were picked up I was insensible. I soon recovered, but he never entirely recovered.[1] Now, William, you will have to wood up at Malden, I suppose?” “Yes,—can’t possibly go to Detroit without, you know.”
When the boat approached the wharf at the old town of Malden, Canada West, Curtis and Bill were playing cards. Looking up, they saw that the boat was stopping, and asked, “Where are we?” The answer was, “We are going to take on wood at Malden.” “But this won’t do,” said Curtis, and he ran to find the Captain. To him he began to remonstrate in a violent manner, and Bill, meanwhile, was trying, by giving orders to the new hands, to prevent their landing; “but,” said Curtis, “you agreed to land me in Michigan.”
Capt.—“ I’ll do so when we get into the river.”
Curtis.—“ If you land here my niggers will escape.”
Capt.—“ I can’t help that, we can’t go without wood.”
Curtis.—“ I’ll give you a thousand dollars to land me and the niggers in Michigan.”
Capt.—“ 1 can’t do it without wood.”
Curtis.—“ I shall hold you to your promise.”
Capt.—“ Of course you will; I’ll land you, I did not promise to land your niggers.”
Curtis now began to swear and use brutal language, when Captain Titus told him to stop that or he would have him arrested as soon as they should touch the wharf.
George and Clara were among the hands at the gang* way, as they had been instructed by the mate, and when the plank was thrown out they ran into the town, Curtis and Bill after them, crying, “Stop, thief!” in great excitement. If they had taken time to think, they would not have ventured on shore; as it was, they were roughly handled, and glad when they found shelter on the boat again.
Some two years after, I was on a steamboat from Detroit to Cleveland; we stopped at Malden for wood, and while there I fell into conversation with an intelligent man, and inquired if he knew George and Clara, relating something of the above incidents. He said he knew them; they were prospering in business and much respected. He said that he saw the chase in the streets? and gave a very amusing account of the way the Kentucky gentlemen were handled.
- ↑ The next summer I met this heroic colored man at Bennett’s Temperance House in Buffalo.