Isaac T. Hopper Part 21

The mayor and a large body of civil officers accompanied the prisoner to the guard-house, and a number of citizens volunteered their services, to strengthen the escort; but all their efforts scarcely sufficed to keep him from the grasp of the infuriated mult.i.tude. He was placed in a noisome cell, to await his trial, and the customary guard was increased for his protection. Portions of the mob continued howling round the prison all night, and the mayor was sent for several times to prevent their bursting in. A gallows was erected, with a barrel of feathers and a tub of tar in readiness under it, that they might amuse themselves with their victim before they murdered him.

Next morning, at five o'clock, the prisoner was brought before the mayor for further examination. Many of the mob followed him to the door of the office to await the issue. The evidence was satisfactory that he belonged to no anti-slavery society, and that his business in Savannah had no connection whatever with that subject. As for the pamphlet about Sierra Leone, the mayor said he considered that evidence in his favor; because it was written in support of colonization. Before the examination closed, there came a driving rain, which dispersed the mob lying in wait round the building. Aided by this lucky storm their destined victim pa.s.sed out without being observed. At parting, the mayor said to him, "Young man, you may consider it a miracle that you have escaped with your life."

He took refuge on board the s.h.i.+p Angelique, bound for New-York, and was received with much kindness and sympathy by Captain Nichols, the commander. There was likewise a sailor on board, who happened to be one of the many that owed a debt of grat.i.tude to Friend Hopper; and he swore he would shoot anybody that attempted to harm his son. In a short time, a messenger came from the mayor to announce that the populace had discovered where Mr. Hopper was secreted, and would probably attack the vessel. In this emergency, the captain behaved n.o.bly toward his hunted fellow-citizen. He requested him to lie down flat in the bottom of a boat, which he himself entered and conducted to a brig bound for Providence. The captain was a New-England man, but having been long engaged in Southern trade, his principles on the subject of slavery were adapted to his interest. He gave the persecuted young traveller a most ungracious reception, and said if he thought he was an abolitionist he would send him directly back to Savannah. However, the representations of Captain Nichols induced him to consent that he should be put on board. They had a tedious pa.s.sage of thirty-five days, during which there was a long and violent storm, that seemed likely to wreck the vessel. The mob had robbed Mr. Hopper of his money and clothing. He had no comfortable garments to s.h.i.+eld him from the severe cold, and his hands and feet were frozen. At last, he arrived at Providence, and went on board the steamer Benjamin Franklin, bound for New-York. There he had the good fortune to meet with a colored waiter, whose father had been redeemed from slavery by Friend Hopper's exertions. He was a.s.siduously devoted to the son of his benefactor, and did everything in his power to alleviate his distressed condition.

When the traveller arrived at his home, he was so haggard and worn down with danger and fatigue, that his family scarcely recognized him. His father was much excited and deeply affected, when he heard what perils he had gone through merely on account of his name. He soon after addressed the following letter to the mayor of Savannah:

"New-York, 4th month, 18th, 1836.

"Friend,

"My object in addressing thee is to express my heartfelt grat.i.tude for thy exertions in saving the life of my son, which I have cause to believe was in imminent peril, from the violence of unreasonable men, while in your city a few weeks ago. I am informed that very soon after his arrival in Savannah, the fact became known to a marshal of this city, who was then there, and who, by his misrepresentations, excited the rabble to a determination to perpetrate the most inhuman outrage upon him, and in all probability to take his life; and that preparations were made, which, if carried into effect, would doubtless have produced that result.

"Tar and feathers, as a mode of punishment, I am inclined to think is rather of modern invention; and I am doubtful whether they will be more efficient than whipping, cutting off ears, the rack, the halter, and the stake. Superst.i.tion and intolerance have long ago called in all these to their aid, in suppressing reformation in religion; but they were unable to accomplish the end designed; and if I am not greatly mistaken, they would prove entirely insufficient to stop the progress of emanc.i.p.ation.

"If it is the determination of the people of Savannah to deliver up to a lawless and blood-thirsty mob every person coming among them whose sentiments are opposed to slavery, I apprehend there are very few at the North who would not be obnoxious to their hostility. For I believe they all view slavery as an evil that must be abolished at no very distant day. Would it not be well for the people of the South to reflect upon the tendency of their conduct? Where such aggressions upon humanity are committed, the slaves will naturally inquire into the cause; and when they are informed that it is in consequence of their oppressed and degraded condition, and that the persons thus persecuted are charged with being their friends, they cannot feel indifferent. One such scene as was witnessed in the case of my son would tend more to excite a spirit of insurrection and insubordination among them, than ten thousand 'incendiary pamphlets,' not one word of which any of them could read. My son went to Savannah solely on his own private business, without any intention of interfering with the slaves, or with the subject of slavery in any way. But even supposing the charge to have been true, do not your laws award sufficient punishment? How could you stand silently by, and witness proceedings that would put to blush the Arab, or the untutored inhabitant of the wilderness in our own country? The negroes, whom you affect to despise so much, would set an example of benevolence and humanity, when on their own soil, if a stranger came among them, which you cannot be prepared to imitate, till you have made great improvements in civilization.

"The people of Savannah profess Christianity; but what avails profession, where lat.i.tude is given to the vilest and most depraved pa.s.sions of the human heart? Suppose the mob had murdered my son; a young man who went among you in the ordinary course of his business, and who, even according to _your_ understanding of the term, had done no evil; a young man of fair reputation, with numerous near relatives and friends to mourn over the barbarous deed; would you have been guiltless? I think the just witness in your consciences would answer No.

"I have long deplored the evils of slavery, and my sympathy has often been much excited for the master, as well as the slave. I am aware of the difficulties attending the system, and I should rejoice if I could aid in devising some mode of relief, that would satisfy the claims of justice and humanity, and at the same time be acceptable to the inhabitants of the South.

"It is certainly cause of deep regret that the Southern people suffer their angry pa.s.sions to become so highly excited on this subject, which, of all others, ought to be calmly considered. For it remains a truth that 'the wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of G.o.d,' neither can it open his eyes to see in what his best interest consists. O, that your ears may be open to the voice of wisdom before it is too late! The language of an eminent statesman, who was a slaveholder, often occurs to me: 'I tremble for my country when I reflect that G.o.d is just, and that his justice will not sleep forever.' Surely we have high authority for believing that 'For the crying of the poor, and the sighing of the needy, G.o.d will arise.' I hope I shall not be suspected of entertaining hostile or unkind feelings toward the people of the South, when I say that I believe slavery must and will be abolished. As sure as G.o.d is merciful and good, it is an evil that cannot endure forever.

"An inspired apostle says, that our gracious Creator 'hath made of one blood all nations of men;' and our Saviour gave this commandment: 'As ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise.' If we believe these declarations, and I hope none doubt their authority, I should think reasoning unnecessary to convince us that to oppress and enslave our fellow men cannot be pleasing to Him, who is just and equal in all his ways.

"My concern for the welfare of my fellow men is not confined to color, or circ.u.mscribed by geographical lines. I can never see human suffering without feeling compa.s.sion, and I would always gladly alleviate it, if I had it in my power. I remember that we are all, without distinction of color or locality, children of the same Universal Parent, who delights to see the human family dwell together in peace and harmony. I am strongly inclined to the opinion that the proceedings of that portion of the inhabitants of the North who are called abolitionists, would not produce so much agitation and excitement at the South, if the people there felt entirely satisfied that slavery was justifiable in the sight of infinite purity and justice. An eminent minister of the Gospel, about the middle of the seventeenth century, often urged upon the attention of people this emphatic injunction: 'Mind the light!'

'All things that are reproved are made manifest by the light; for whatsoever doth make manifest is light.' Now, if this light, or spirit of truth, 'a manifestation of which is given to every man to profit withal,' should be found testifying in your consciences against injustice and oppression, regard its admonitions! It will let none remain at ease in their sins. It will justify for well doing; but to those who rebel against it, and disregard its reproofs, it will become the 'worm that dieth not, and the fire that is not quenched.'

"I am aware that complaints are often made, because obstacles are thrown in the way of Southerners reclaiming their fugitive slaves.

But bring the matter home to yourselves. Suppose a white man resided among you, who, for a series of years, had conducted with sobriety, industry, and probity, and had given frequent evidence of the kindness of his heart, by a disposition to oblige whenever opportunity offered; suppose he had a wife and children dependent upon him, and supported them comfortably and respectably; could you see that man dragged from his bed, and from the bosom of his family, in the dead time of night, manacled, and hurried away into a distant part of the country, where his family could never see him again, and where they knew he must linger out a miserable existence, more intolerable than death, amid the horrors of slavery? I ask whether you could witness all this, without the most poignant grief? This is no picture of the fancy. It is a sober reality. The only difference is, the men thus treated are black.

But in my view, this does not diminish the horrors of such cruel deeds. Can it be expected then, that the citizens of this state, or indeed of any other, would witness all this, without inst.i.tuting the severest scrutiny into the legality of the proceedings? More especially, when it is known that the persons employed in this nefarious business of hunting up fugitive slaves are men dest.i.tute of principle, whose hearts are callous as flint, and who would send a free man into bondage with as little compunction as they would a slave, if they could do it with impunity.

"Of latter time, we hear much said about a dissolution of the Union. Far better, in my view, that this should take place, if it can be effected without violence, than to remain as we are; when a peaceable citizen cannot enter your territory on his own lawful business, without the risk of being murdered by a ruthless mob.

"With reverent thankfulness to Him, who numbers the hairs of our heads, without whose notice not even a sparrow falls to the ground, and to whose providence I consider myself indebted for the redemption of my beloved son from the hands of barbarians, permit me again to say that I feel sincerely grateful to thee and others, who kindly lent aid, though late, in rescuing him from the violence of unreasonable and wicked men, who sought his life without a cause. I may never have it in my power to do either of you personally a kindness; but some other member of the great family of mankind may need a.s.sistance in a way that I can relieve him. If this should be the case, I hope I shall not fail to embrace the opportunity.

"With fervent desires that the beneficent Creator and Father of the Universe may open the eyes of all to see that 'the fast which he hath chosen is to loose the bands of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens and to let the oppressed go free, and that ye break every yoke.'

"I am thy sincere friend,

"ISAAC T. HOPPER."

Soon after the circ.u.mstances above related, the mayor of New-York revoked the warrant of the marshal, who had been so conspicuous in the outrage. This step was taken in consequence of his own admissions concerning his conduct.

In 1837, a little incident occurred, which may be interesting to those who are curious concerning phrenology. At a small social party in New-York, a discussion arose on that subject; and, as usual, some were disposed to believe and others to ridicule. At last the disputants proposed to test the question by careful experiment. Friend Hopper was one of the party, and they asked him to have his head examined by the well-known O.S. Fowler. Having a good-natured willingness to gratify their curiosity, he consented. It was agreed that he should not speak during the operation, lest the tones of his voice might serve as an index of his character. It was further stipulated that no person in the room should give any indication by which the phrenologist might be enabled to judge whether he was supposed to be speaking correctly or not. The next day, Mr. Fowler was introduced blindfolded into a room, where Isaac T. Hopper was seated with the party of the preceding evening. Having pa.s.sed his hands over the strongly developed head, he made the following statement, which was taken down by a rapid writer, as the words fell from his lips.

"The first and strongest manifestation of this character is efficiency.

Not one man in a thousand is capable of accomplis.h.i.+ng so much. The strong points are very strong; the weak points are weak; so that he is an eccentric and peculiar character.

"The pole-star of his character is moral courage.

"He has very little reverence, and stands in no awe of the powers that be. He pays no regard to forms or ceremonies, or established customs, in church or state. He renders no homage to great names, such as D.D.; L.L.D.; or Excellency. He treats his fellow men with kindness and affection, but not with sufficient respect and courtesy.

"He is emphatically republican in feeling and character. He makes himself free and familiar with every one. He often lets himself down too much. This const.i.tutes a radical defect in his character.

"He will a.s.sert and maintain human rights and liberty at every hazard.

In this cause, he will stake anything, or suffer anything. This const.i.tutes the leading feature of his character. Every other element is blended into this.

"I should consider him a very cautious man in fact, though in appearance he is very imprudent; especially in remarks on moral subjects.

"He is too apt to denounce those whom he considers in error; to apply opprobrious epithets and censure in the strongest terms, and the boldest manner.

"I have seldom, if ever, met with a larger organ of conscientiousness.

"Nothing so much delights him as to advocate and propagate moral principles; no matter how unpopular the principles may be.

"He has very little credulity.

"He is one of the closest observers of men and things anywhere to be found. He sees, as it were by intuition everything that pa.s.ses around him, and understands just when and where to take men and things; just how and where to say things with effect; and in all he says, he speaks directly to the point.

"He says and does a great many severe and cutting things. If anybody else said and did such things, they would at once get into hot water; but he says and does them in such a manner, that even his enemies, and those against whom his censures are aimed, cannot be offended with him.

He is always on the verge of difficulty, but never _in_ difficulty.

"He is hated mainly by those not personally acquainted with him. A personal interview, even with his greatest enemies, generally removes enmity; because of the smoothness and easiness of his manners.

"He has at command a great amount of well-digested information on almost every subject, and makes admirable use of his knowledge. He has a great many facts, and always brings them in their right place. His general memory of particulars, incidents, places, and words, is really wonderful.

"But he has a weak memory concerning names, dates, numbers, and colors.

He never recognizes persons by their dress, or by the color of anything pertaining to them.

"He tells a story admirably, and acts it out to the life. He makes a great deal of fun, and keeps others in a roar of laughter, while he is sober himself. For his fun, he is as much indebted to the manner as to the matter. He makes his jokes mainly by happy comparisons, striking ill.u.s.trations, and the imitative power with which he expresses them.

"He possesses a great amount of native talent, but it is so admirably distributed, that he appears to have more than he actually possesses.

"His attachment to his friends is remarkably strong and ardent. But he will a.s.sociate with none except those whose moral characters are unimpeachable.

"He expects and antic.i.p.ates a great deal; enters largely into things; takes hold of every measure with spirit; and is always overwhelmed with business. Move where he will, he cannot be otherwise than a distinguished man."

That this description was remarkably accurate in most particulars will be obvious to those who have read the preceding anecdotes. It is not true, however, that he was enthusiastic in character, or that he had the appearance of being so. He was far too practical and self-possessed, to have the reputation of being "half crazy," even among those who are p.r.o.ne to regard everything as insane that is out of the common course.

Neither do I think he was accustomed to "let himself down too much;" for according to my radical ideas, a man _cannot_ "let himself down," who "a.s.sociates only with those whose moral characters are unimpeachable."

It is true that he was pleasant and playful in conversation with all cla.s.ses of people; but he was remarkably free from any tinge of vulgarity. It is true, also, that he was totally and entirely unconscious of any such thing as distinctions of rank. I have been acquainted with many theoretical democrats, and with not a few who tried to be democratic, from kind feelings-and principles of justice; but Friend Hopper and Francis Jackson of Boston are the only two men I ever met, who were born democrats; who could not help it, if they tried; and who would not know _how_ to try; so completely did they, by nature, ignore all artificial distinctions. Of course, I do not use the word democrat in its limited party sense, but to express their perfect unconsciousness that any man was considered to be above them, or any man beneath them. If Friend Hopper encountered his wood-sawyer, after a considerable absence, he would shake hands warmly, and give him a cordial welcome. If the English Prince had called upon him, he would have met with the same friendly reception, and would probably have been accosted something after this fas.h.i.+on: "How art thou, friend Albert?

They tell me thou art amiable and kindly disposed toward the people; and I am glad to see thee." Those who observe the parting advice given by Isaac's mother, when he went to serve his apprentices.h.i.+p in Philadelphia, will easily infer that this peculiarity was hereditary.

Some men, who rise above their original position, either in character or fortune, endeavor to conceal their early history. Others obtrude it upon all occasions, in order to magnify themselves by a contrast between what they have been and what they are. But he did neither the one nor the other. The subject did not occupy his thoughts. He spoke of having been a tailor, whenever it came naturally in his way, but never for the sake of doing so. His having been born in a hen-house was a mere external accident in his eyes; and in the same light he regarded the fact that Victoria was born in a palace. What was the spiritual condition of the two at any given age, was the only thing that seemed to him of real importance.

His steadfastness in maintaining moral principles, "however unpopular those principles might be," was severely tried in the autumn of 1838. At a late hour in the night, two colored men came to his house, and one introduced the other as a stranger in the city, who had need of a lodging. Friend Hopper of course conjectured that he might be a fugitive slave; and this conjecture was confirmed the next morning. The stranger was a mulatto, about twenty-two years old, and called himself Thomas Hughes. According to his own account, he was the son of a wealthy planter in Virginia, who sold his mother with himself and his twin sister when they were eleven months old. His mother and sister were subsequently sold, but he could never ascertain where they were sent.

When he was about thirteen, he was purchased by the son of his first master. Being hardly dealt with by this relative, he one day remonstrated with him for treating his own brother with so much severity. This was, of course, deemed a great piece of insolence in a bondman, and he was punished by being sold to a speculator, carried off hand-cuffed, with his feet tied under the horse's belly, and finally s.h.i.+pped for Louisiana with a coffle of five hundred slaves. He was bought by a gambler, who took him to Louisville, Kentucky. When he had lived there three years, his master, having lost large sums of money, told him he should be obliged to sell him. Thomas had meanwhile ascertained that his father had removed to Kentucky, and was still a very wealthy man. He obtained permission to go and see him, with the hope that he would purchase him and set him free. Accordingly, he called upon him, and told him that he was Thomas, the son of his slave Rachel, who had always a.s.sured him that he was his father. The rich planter did not deny poor Rachel's a.s.sertion, but in answer to her son's inquiries, he plainly manifested that he neither knew nor cared who had bought her, or to what part of the country she had been sent. Thomas represented his own miserable condition, in being sold from one to another, and subject to the will of whoever happened to be his owner. He intreated his father to purchase him, with a view to manumission; but himself and his proposition were both treated with supreme contempt.

Thus rejected by his father, and unable to discover any traces of his mother, he returned disheartened to Louisville, and was soon after sent to New-Orleans to be sold. Mr. John P. Darg, a speculator in slaves, bought him; and he soon after married a girl named Mary, who belonged to his new master. Mr. Darg went to New-York, to visit some relatives, and took Thomas with him. It was only a few days after their arrival in the city, that the slave left him, and went to Isaac T. Hopper to ask a lodging. When he acknowledged that he was a fugitive, intending to take refuge in Canada, it was deemed imprudent for him to remain under the roof of a person so widely known as an abolitionist; but a very benevolent and intelligent Quaker lady, near eighty years old, named Margaret Shoemaker, gladly gave him shelter.

When Friend Hopper went to his place of business, after parting with the colored stranger, he saw an advertis.e.m.e.nt in a newspaper called the Sun, offering one thousand dollars reward for the apprehension and return of a mulatto man, who had stolen seven or eight thousand dollars from a house in Varick-street. A proportionate reward was offered for the recovery of any part of the money. Though no names were mentioned, he had reason to conjecture that Thomas Hughes might be the mulatto in question. He accordingly sought him out, read the advertis.e.m.e.nt to him, and inquired whether he had stolen anything from his master. He denied having committed any theft, and said the pretence that he had done so was a mere trick, often resorted to by slaveholders, when they wanted to catch a runaway slave. That this remark was true, Friend Hopper knew very well by his own experience; he therefore concluded it was likely that Thomas was not guilty. He expressed this conviction in conversation on the subject with Barney Corse, a benevolent member of the Society of Friends, who was kindly disposed toward the colored people. In compliance with Friend Hopper's request, that gentleman waited upon the editor of the Sun, accompanied by a lawyer, and was a.s.sured that a large amount of money really had been stolen from Mr. Darg, and that if he could recover it, he was willing to give a pledge for the manumission of the slave, beside paying the promised reward to whoever would enable him to get possession of the money. Barney Corse called upon Mr. Darg, who promptly confirmed the statement made by the editor in his name. The Friend then promised that he, and others who were interested for the slave, would do their utmost to obtain tidings of the money, and see it safely restored, on those conditions; but he expressly stipulated that he could not do it otherwise, because he had conscientious scruples, which would prevent him, in all cases, from helping to return a fugitive slave to his master.