Isaac T. Hopper Part 5

Levin was a slave in Maryland. He married a free woman and had several children. In 1802, his master sold him to a speculator, who was in the habit of buying slaves for the Southern market. His purchaser took him to his farm in Delaware, and kept him at work till he could get a profitable chance to sell him. His new master was a desperate fellow, and Levin was uneasy with the constant liability of being sold to the far South. He opened his heart to a neighbor, who advised him to escape, and gave him a letter to Isaac T. Hopper. His wife and children had removed to Philadelphia, and there he rejoined them. She took in was.h.i.+ng, and he supported himself by sawing wood. He had been there little more than a month, when his master heard where he was, and bargained with the captain of a small sloop to catch him and bring him back to Delaware.

The plan was to seize Levin in his bed, hurry him on board the sloop, and start off immediately, before his family could have time to give the alarm. They would probably have succeeded in this project, if the captain had not drank a little too freely the evening previous, and so forgotten to get some goods on board, as he had promised. Levin was seized and carried off; but the sloop was obliged to wait for the goods, and in the meantime messengers were sent to Isaac T. Hopper. He was in bed, but sprang up the instant he heard a violent knocking at the door.

In his haste, he thrust on an old rough coat and hat, which he was accustomed to wear to fires; for, in addition to his various other employments, he belonged to a fire-company. He hurried to the scene of action as quickly as possible, and found that the slave had been conveyed to a small tavern near the wharf where the sloop lay. When the landlord was questioned where the men were who had him in custody, he refused to give any information. But there was a crowd of men and boys; and one of them said, "They are up-stairs in the back room." The landlord stood in the door-way, and tried to prevent Friend Hopper from pa.s.sing in; but he pushed him aside, and went up to the chamber, where he found Levin with his hands tied, and guarded by five or six men.

"What are you going to do with this man?" said he. The words were scarcely out of his mouth, before they seized him violently and pitched him out of the chamber window. He fell upon empty casks, and his mind was so excited, that he was not aware of being hurt. There was no time to be lost; for unless there was an immediate rescue, the man would be forced on board the sloop and carried off. As soon as he could get upon his feet, he went round again to the front door and ascended the stairs; but the door of the chamber was locked. He then returned to the back yard, mounted upon the pent-house, by means of a high board fence, and clambered into the window of a chamber, that opened into the room where the slave was. He entered with an open penknife in his hand, exclaiming, "Let us see if you will get me out so soon again!" Speaking thus, he instantly cut the cords that bound the slave, and called out, "Follow me!" He rushed down stairs as fast as he could go, and the slave after him. The guard were utterly astonished at seeing the man return, whom they had just tossed out of an upper window, and the whole thing was done so suddenly, that Friend Hopper and the liberated captive were in the street before they had time to recover their wits.

A rowdy looking crowd of men and boys followed the fugitive and his protector, shouting, "Stop thief! Stop thief!" until they came to the office of a justice of the peace, half a mile from where they started.

The astonished magistrate exclaimed, "Good heavens, Mr. Hopper, what brings you here this time of the morning, in such a trim, and with such a rabble at your heels!" When the circ.u.mstances were briefly explained, he laughed heartily, and said, "I don't think they would have treated you so roughly, if they had known who you were." He was informed that Levin was a slave in Maryland, but had been living in Delaware with a man who bought him, and had thus become legally free. Measures were taken to protect him from further aggression, and he was never after molested.

Friend Hopper went home to a late breakfast; and when he attempted to rise from the table, he was seized with violent pains in the back, in consequence of his fall. He never after entirely recovered from the effects of it.

ETIENNE LAMAIRE.

This man was a slave to a Frenchman of the same name, in the Island of Guadaloupe. In consideration of faithful services, his master gave him his freedom, and he opened a barber's shop on his own account. Some time after, he was appointed an officer in the French army, against Victor Hughes. He had command of a fort, and remained in the army until the close of the war. After that period, there were symptoms of insurrection among the colored people, because the French government revoked the decree abolis.h.i.+ng slavery in their West India Islands. Etienne was a man of talent, and had acquired considerable influence, particularly among people of his own color. He exerted this influence on the side of mercy, and was the means of saving the lives of several white people who had rendered themselves obnoxious by their efforts to restore slavery.

Affairs were so unsettled in Guadaloupe, that Etienne determined to seek refuge in the United States; and an old friend of his master procured a pa.s.sport for him. A man by the name of Anslong, then at Guadaloupe, had two slaves, whom he was about to send to the care of Dennis Cottineau, of Philadelphia, with directions to place them on a farm he owned, near Princeton, New-Jersey. When it was proposed that Etienne should take pa.s.sage in the same vessel, Anslong manifested much interest in his behalf. He promised that he should have his pa.s.sage free, for services that he might render on board; and he took charge of his pa.s.sport, saying that he would give it to the captain for safe keeping.

When the vessel arrived at Philadelphia, in March, 1803, Etienne was astonished to find that Anslong had paid his pa.s.sage, and claimed him as his slave. Dennis Cottineau showed the receipts for the pa.s.sage money, and written directions to forward the _three_ slaves to New-Jersey. In this dilemma, he asked counsel of a colored man, whom he had formerly known in Guadaloupe; and he immediately conducted him to Isaac T. Hopper. He related the particulars of his case very circ.u.mstantially, and the two colored men, who were really the slaves of Anslong, confirmed his statement. When Friend Hopper had cautiously examined them, and cross-examined them, he became perfectly satisfied that Etienne was free. He advised him not to leave the city, and told him to let him know in case Dennis Cottineau attempted to compel him to do so. He accordingly waited upon that gentleman and told him he had resolved not to submit to his orders to go to New-Jersey. Whereupon Cottineau took possession of his trunk, containing his papers and clothing, and caused him to be committed to prison.

A writ of _habeas corpus_ was procured, and the case was brought before Judge Inskeep, of the Court of Common Pleas. It was found to be involved in considerable difficulty. For while several witnesses swore that they knew Etienne in Guadaloupe, as a free man, in business for himself, others testified that they had known him as the slave of Anslong. It was finally referred to the Supreme Court, and Etienne was detained in prison several months to await his trial. Eminent counsel were employed on both sides; Jared Ingersoll for the claimant, and Joseph Hopkinson for the defendant. A certificate was produced from the munic.i.p.ality of Guadaloupe, showing that Etienne had been an officer in the French army for several years, and had filled the station in a manner to command respect. The National Decree abolis.h.i.+ng slavery in that Island was also read; but Mr. Ingersoll contended that when the decree was revoked, Etienne again became a slave. In his charge, Judge s.h.i.+ppen said that the evidence for and against freedom was about equally balanced; and in that case, it was always a duty to decide in favor of liberty. The jury accordingly brought in a unanimous verdict that Etienne was free. The court ordered him to refund the twenty dollars, which Anslong had paid for his pa.s.sage; and he was discharged.

He was a dark mulatto, tall, well-proportioned, and stylish-looking. His handsome countenance had a remarkably bright, frank expression, and there was a degree of courteous dignity in his manner, probably acquired by companions.h.i.+p with military officers. But he belonged to a caste which society has forbidden to develop the faculties bestowed by nature.

Such a man might have performed some higher use than cutting hair, if he had lived in a wisely organized state of society. However, he made the best of such advantages as he had. He opened a barber's shop in Philadelphia, and attracted many of the most highly respectable citizens by his perfect politeness and punctuality. The colored people had various benevolent societies in that city, for the relief of the poor, the sick, and the aged, of their own complexion. Etienne Lamaire was appointed treasurer of several of these societies, and discharged his trust with scrupulous integrity.

Isaac T. Hopper had been very active and vigilant in a.s.sisting him to regain his freedom; and afterward, when he became involved in some difficulty on account of stolen goods left on his premises without his knowledge, he readily became bail for him. His confidence had not been misplaced; for when the affair had been fully investigated, the recorder declared that Mr. Lamaire had acted like an honest and prudent man, throughout the whole transaction.

His grat.i.tude to Friend Hopper was unbounded, and he missed no opportunity to manifest it. To the day of his death, some fourteen or fifteen years ago, he never would charge a cent for shaving, or cutting the hair of any of the family, children, or grand-children; and on New Year's day, he frequently sent a box of figs, or raisins, or bon-bons, in token of grateful remembrance.

SAMUEL JOHNSON.

Samuel Johnson was a free colored man in the state of Delaware. He married a woman who was slave to George Black. They had several children, and when they became old enough to be of some value as property, their parents were continually anxious lest Mr. Black should sell them to some Georgia speculator, to relieve himself from pecuniary embarra.s.sment; an expedient which was very often resorted to under such circ.u.mstances. When Johnson visited his wife, they often talked together on the subject; and at last they concluded to escape to a free state.

They went to Philadelphia and hired a small house. He sawed wood, and she took in was.h.i.+ng. Being industrious and frugal, they managed to live very comfortably, except the continual dread of being discovered.

In December, 1804, when they had been thus situated about two years, her master obtained some tidings of them, and immediately went in pursuit. A friend happened to become aware of the fact, and hastened to inform them that Mr. Black was in the city. Samuel forthwith sent his wife and children to a place of safety; but he remained at home, not supposing that he could be in any danger. The master arrived shortly after, with two constables, and was greatly exasperated when he found that his property had absconded. They arrested the husband, and vowed they would hold him as a hostage, till he informed them where they could find his wife and children. When he refused to accompany them, they beat him severely, and swore they would carry him to the South and sell him. He told them they might carry him into slavery, or murder him, if they pleased, but no torture they could inflict would ever induce him to betray his family. Finding they could not break his resolution, they tied his hands behind his back, and dragged him to a tavern kept by Peter Fritz, in Sa.s.safras-street. There they left him, guarded by the landlord and several men, while they went in search of the fugitives.

Some of Johnson's colored neighbors informed Isaac T. Hopper of these proceedings; and he went to the tavern, accompanied by a friend. They attempted to enter the room occupied by Samuel and his guard, but found the door fastened, and the landlord refused to unlock it. When they inquired by what authority he made his tavern a prison, he replied that the man was placed in his custody by two constables, and should not be released till they came for him.

"Open the door!" said Friend Hopper; "or we will soon have it opened in a way that will cost something to repair it. Thou hast already made thyself liable to an action for false imprisonment. If thou art not very careful, thou wilt find thyself involved in trouble for this business."

The landlord swore a good deal, but finding them so resolute, he concluded it was best to open the door. After obtaining the particulars of the case from Johnson himself, Friend Hopper cut the cord that bound his hands, and said, "Follow me!"

The men on guard poured forth a volley of threats and curses. One of them sprang forward in great fury, seized Johnson by the collar, and swore by his Maker that he should not leave the room till the constables arrived. Friend Hopper stepped up to him, and said, "Release that man immediately! or thou wilt be made to repent of thy conduct." The ruffian quailed under the influence of that calm bold manner, and after some slight altercation let go his grasp.

Johnson followed his protector in a state of intense anxiety concerning his wife and children. But they had been conveyed to a place of safety, and the man-hunters never afterward discovered their retreat.

PIERCE BUTLER'S BEN.

In August, 1804, a colored man about thirty-six years old waited upon the committee of the Abolition Society, and stated that he was born a slave to Pierce Butler, Esq., of South Carolina, and had always lived in his family. During the last eleven years, he had resided most of the time in Pennsylvania. Mr. Butler now proposed taking him to Georgia; but he was very unwilling to leave his wife, she being in delicate health and needing his support. After mature consideration of the case, the committee, believing Ben was legally ent.i.tled to freedom, agreed to apply to Judge Inskeep for a writ of _habeas corpus;_ and Isaac T.

Hopper was sent to serve it upon Pierce Butler, Esq., at his house in Chestnut-street.

Being told that Mr. Butler was at dinner, he said he would wait in the hall until it suited his convenience to attend to him. Mr. Butler was a tall, lordly looking man, somewhat imperious in his manners, as slaveholders are wont to be. When he came into the hall after dinner, Friend Hopper gave him a nod of recognition, and said, "How art thou, Pierce Butler? I have here a writ of _habeas corpus_ for thy Ben."

Mr. Butler glanced over the paper, and exclaimed, "Get out of my house, you scoundrel!"

Feigning not to hear him, Friend Hopper looked round at the pictures and rich furniture, and said with a smile, "Why, thou livest like a nabob here!"

"Get out of my house, I say!" repeated Mr. Butler, stamping violently.

"This paper on the walls is the handsomest I ever saw," continued Isaac. "Is it French, or English? It surely cannot have been manufactured in this country." Talking thus, and looking leisurely about him as he went, he moved deliberately toward the door; the slaveholder railing at him furiously all the while.

"I am a citizen of South Carolina," said he. "The laws of Pennsylvania have nothing to do with me. May the devil take all those who come between masters and their slaves; interfering with what is none of their business." Supposing that his troublesome guest was deaf, he put his head close to his ear, and roared out his maledictions in stentorian tones.

Friend Hopper appeared unconscious of all this. When he reached the threshold, he turned round and said, "Farewell. We shall expect to see thee at Judge Inskeep's."

This imperturbable manner irritated the hot-blooded slave-holder beyond endurance. He repeated more vociferously than ever, "Get out of my house, you scoundrel! If you don't, I'll kick you out." The Quaker walked quietly away, as if he didn't hear a word.

At the appointed time, Mr. Butler waited upon the Judge, where he found Friend Hopper in attendance. The sight of him renewed his wrath. He cursed those who interfered with his property; and taking up the Bible, said he was willing to swear upon that book that he would not take fifteen hundred dollars for Ben. Friend Hopper charged him with injustice in wis.h.i.+ng to deprive the man of his legal right to freedom.

Mr. Butler maintained that he was as benevolent as any other man.

"Thou benevolent!" exclaimed Friend Hopper. "Why, thou art not even just. Thou hast already sent back into bondage two men, who were legally ent.i.tled to freedom by staying in Philadelphia during the term prescribed by law. If thou hadst a proper sense of justice, thou wouldst bring those men back, and let them take the liberty that rightfully belongs to them."

"If you were in a different walk of life, I would treat your insult as it deserves," replied the haughty Southerner.

"What dost thou mean by that? asked Isaac. Wouldst thou shoot me, as Burr did Hamilton? I a.s.sure thee I should consider it no honor to be killed by a member of Congress; and surely there would be neither honor nor comfort in killing thee; for in thy present state of mind thou art not fit to die."

Mr. Butler told the judge he believed that man was either deaf or crazy when he served the writ of _habeas corpus_; for he did not take the slightest notice of anything that was said to him. Judge Inskeep smiled as he answered, "You don't know Mr. Hopper as well as we do."

A lawyer was procured for Ben; but Mr. Butler chose to manage his own cause. He maintained that he was only a sojourner in Pennsylvania; that Ben had never resided six months at any one time in that State, except while he was a member of Congress; and in that case, the law allowed him to keep his slave in Pennsylvania as long as he pleased. The case was deemed an important one, and was twice adjourned for further investigation. In the course of the argument, Mr. Butler admitted that he returned from Congress to Philadelphia, with Ben, on the second of January, 1804, and had remained there with him until the writ of _habeas corpus_ was served, on the third of August, the same year. The lawyers gave it as their opinion that Ben's legal right to freedom was too plain to admit of any doubt. They said the law to which Mr. Butler had alluded was made for the convenience of Southern gentlemen, who might need the attendance of their personal slaves, when Congress met in Philadelphia; but since the seat of government was removed, it by no means authorized members to come into Pennsylvania with their slaves, and keep them there as long as they chose. After much debate, the judge gave an order discharging Ben from all restraint, and he walked off rejoicing.

His master was very indignant at the decision, and complained loudly that a Pennsylvania court should presume to discharge a Carolinian slave.

When Ben was set at liberty, he let himself to Isaac W. Morris, then living at his country seat called Cedar Grove, three miles from Philadelphia. Being sent to the city soon after, on some business for his employer, he was attached by the marshall of the United States, on a writ _De homine replegiando_, at the suit of Mr. Butler, and two thousand dollars were demanded for bail. The idea was probably entertained that so large an amount could not be procured, and thus Ben would again come into his master's possession. But Isaac T. Hopper and Thomas Harrison signed the bail-bond, and Ben was again set at liberty, to await his trial before the Circuit Court of the United States.

Bushrod Was.h.i.+ngton, himself a slaveholder, presided in that court, and Mr. Butler was sanguine that he should succeed in having Judge Inskeep's decision reversed. The case was brought in October, 1806, before Judges Bushrod Was.h.i.+ngton and Richard Peters. It was ably argued by counsel on both sides. The court discharged Ben, and he enjoyed his liberty thenceforth without interruption.

DANIEL BENSON.