# Sketches in the History of the Underground Railroad/Appendix

APPENDIX.
JOHN BROWN IN KANSAS.
[From the Kansas Magazine.]
Some time in the summer of 1850, John Brown was conducting a band of fugitives from Missouri, through Kansas and Nebraska, into Iowa, intending to reach Canada by the Chicago and Detroit road. By some means, not now recollected, the information was conveyed to the city of Atchison that Brown and his escort were encamped on a small tributary of the Grasshopper river, in Jackson county, about 20 miles from Atchison. The proslavery Democrats thought this a favorable opportunity to strike a blow for the party, capture the man whose influence, courage and military genius had created a panic throughout Missouri, recover the fugitive property and teach the universal Yankee nation down east a lesson that was sadly needed, and getting more important every day.
An impromptu meeting was held rather quietly, and about a dozen young braves who were known to be “found on the goose,” and who were always “ready for a fight or a foot race,” were selected to make a raid on John Brown, capture him and his negroes, and convey them back to Missouri.
Horses and revolvers were furnished by those who instigated the movement, and these redoubtable warriors marched forth “in all the pomp and circumstance of ​glorious war.” The noble bearing of these gallant knights, the curveting of their fiery steeds, the tinkling of the little bells on their heels, were all calculated to inspire pride and hope in the bosoms of the friends who had sent them forth on this expedition.
The old proverb, that “you can’t catch a weasel asleep,” was verified in this instance. Brown was apprised of their approach, and was ready to receive this warlike demonstration. The assailants had made a reconnoissance of Brown’s camp, and thereupon had resolved to attack with both cavalry and infantry, so a number had dismounted and fastened their horses to contiguous saplings, just inside of Brown’s pickets. The cavalry were to move forward and attack the tent and wagons, where it was supposed, as no one was seen around the camp, the game was asleep, capture all they could, while the infantry stood ready to shoot down any fugitives who might endeavor to escape. “Forward!” shouted the leader of the horse, and a slight movement forward was made. “Halt!” said Brown’s men, as they arose from the bush where they had been concealed, and closing in upon their assailants, shouted aloud, “Dismount and throw down your arms or you will be shot down in a moment.” This sudden and unexpected change in the programme seemed for a moment to bewilder the assailants, and to throw them into a panic, for the order to ground their arms was instantly obeyed by the infantry, when the cavalry, realizing the condition of things, began to think, like Falstaff, “discretion was the better part of valor,” and, applying their spurs energetically to their steeds, turned and fled ingloriously, leaving their friends to get out of the scrape as best they could. These latter were, all but one, taken prisoners by Brown’s party. This one, seeing the black soldiers about to surround him, and finding that he was ​in peril of being deserted by his friends, made a spring at the extremity of one of the flying horses and actually seized the appendage aforesaid, and there he clung like Tom O’Shanter’s witch, and so escaped.
Soon after this disastrous and bloodless defeat of the assaulting party, Brown, securing his prisoners, struck his tents and moved into Nebraska, carrying his prisoners with him. Here a council of war was held, and some of the party were for shooting or hanging the prisoners, but Brown, whose philanthropic feelings would not permit him to shed human blood, prevailed on his comrades to spare their lives, remarking that, although they were scarcely fit to live, they were not fit to die, and to spare their lives would give them time to repent hereafter.
One of the party was a young physician from Atchson, a wild, rattling, devil-may-care kind of a fellow, always ready for an adventure that promised either excitement or sport, but who really had nothing very bad in his composition. Brown took him under his special care. As has been hinted heretofore, Brown was of a religious turn, and, whether at home or encamped on the wide prairie, had always an altar erected in his house or tent, at which it was required that all present must engage in worship. One evening when about to retire he called upon the doctor to offer up a prayer.
“By G—,” said the doctor, in language more profane than polite, “I can’t pray.”
“Did your mother never teach you to pray?” inquired Brown.
“0, yes,” said the doctor; “but that was a long time ago.”
“But you still remember the prayer she taught you?” said Brown.
“Yes.” ​“Well, then, in absence of any better one, say that,” said Brown. And the doctor actually repeated before black and white of the camp that night, the very familiar nursery invocation of “Now I lay me down to sleep7 etc., to the great amusement of his fellow prisoners and all others present.
On his return home he related all the circumstances, and many others of an interesting nature now forgotten. He stated in his usual strong language that John Brown was the best man that he had ever known, and knew more about religion than any one he had ever seen. When asked if Brown had ever used him badly, or used any harsh language toward them while they were with him, he said “No;” that they were all treated like gentlemen; had the same fare as the others, “but it did go a little hard and against the grain to eat with and be guarded by the d——d niggers.”
After detaining his prisoners for several days, during which he taught them some lessons in morals, he was about to send them home on foot and claim their horses as articles contraband of war, but on the fact being made known that the animals upon which they had ridden were not their own, but belonged to other parties in Atchison, Brown gave them their horses and dismissed them with the sage admonition that they should never undertake to do anything until they first learned how to do it, and never try to perform an action without calculating
FREDERICK DOUGLASS.
For many years Frederick Douglass refused to relate the history of his escape from slavery, fearing that those friends from whom he received aid might be injured thereby; but in his book “My Bondage and Freedom,” he gives us a very interesting account of his escape from the bondage of sin, and how he was helped on his way by a good old colored man named Lawson. Although he was but a child he could read better than his old friend, so he taught him “the letter” while the old man taught him “the spirit.” We have taken the liberty to quote from the aforesaid very interesting autobiography the following brief extract:
Previous to my contemplation of the anti-slavery movement, and its probable results, my mind had been seriously awakened to the subject of religion. I was not more than thirteen years old, when I felt the need of God, as a father and protector. My religious nature was awakened by the preaching of a white Methodist minister, named Hanson. He thought that all men, great and small, bond and free, were sinners in the sight of God; that they were, by nature, rebels against His government; and that they must repent of their sins, and be reconciled to God through Christ. I cannot say that I had a very distinct notion of what was required of me; but one thing I knew very well—I was wretched, and had no means of making myself otherwise. Moreover, I knew that I could pray for light. I consulted a good colored man, named Charles Johnson; and, in tones of holy affection, he told me to pray, and what to pray for. L was, for weeks, a poor, broken-hearted mourner, traveling through the darkness and misery of doubts and fears. I finally found that change of heart which comes by “casting all one’s care” upon God, and by having faith in Jesus Christ, as the Redeemer, Friend, and Savior of those who diligently seek Him.
After this I saw the world in a new light. I seemed to live in a new world, surrounded by new objects, and to be animated by new hopes and desires. I loved all mankind—slaveholders not excepted; though I ​abhorred slavery more than ever. My great concern was, now, to have the world converted. The desire for knowledge increased, and especially did I want a thorough acquaintance with the Bible. I have gathered scattered pages from this holy book, from the filthy street gutters of Baltimore, and washed and dried them, that in the moments of my leisure I might get a word or two of wisdom from them. While thus religiously seeking knowledge, I became acquainted with a good old colored man, named Lawson. A more devout man than he, I never saw. He drove a dray for Mr. James Ramsey, the owner of a rope-walk on Fell’s Point, Baltimore. This man not only prayed three times a day, but he prayed as he walked through the streets, at his work—on his dray—everywhere. His life was a life of prayer, and his words, (when he spoke to his friends,) were about a better world. Uncle Lawson lived near Master Hugh’s house; and, becoming deeply attached to the old man, I went often with him to prayer-meeting, and spent much of my leisure time with him on Sunday. The old man could read a little, and I was a great help to him in making out the hard words, for 1 was a better reader than he. I could teach him “the letter but he could teach me “the spirit and high, refreshing times we had together, in singing, praying and glorifying God. These meetings with Uncle Lawson went on for a long time, without the knowledge of Master Hugh or my mistress. Both knew, however, that I had become religious, and they seemed to respect my conscientious piety. My mistress was still a professor of religion, and belonged to class. Her leader was no less a person than the Rev. Beverly Waugh, the presiding elder, and now one of the Bishops of the Methodist Episcopal church. Mr. Waugh was then stationed over Wilk street church. I am careful to state these facts, that the reader may be able to form an idea of the precise influences which had to do with shaping and directing my mind.
In view of the cares and anxieties incident to the life she was then leading, and, especially, in view of the separation from religious associations to which she was subjected, my mistress had, as I have before stated, become lukewarm, and needed to be looked up by her ​leader. This brought Mr. Waugh to our house, and gave me an opportunity to hear him exhort and pray. But my chief instructor in matters of religion, was Uncle Lawson. He was my spiritual father; and I loved him intensely, and was at his house every chance I got.
This pleasure was not long allowed me. Master Hugh became averse to my going to Father Lawson’s, and threatened to whip me if lever went there again. I now felt myself persecuted by a wicked man; and I would go to Father Lawson’s, notwithstanding the threat. The good old man had told me that the “Lord had a great work for me to do and I must prepare to do it; and that he had been shown that I must preach the gospel. His words made a deep impression on my mind, and I verily felt that some such work was before me, though I could not see how I should ever engage in its performance. “The good Lord,” he said, “would bring it to pass in his own good time,” and that I must go on reading and studying the scriptures. The advice and suggestions of Uncle Lawson were not without their influence upon my character and destiny. He threw my thoughts into a channel from which they have never entirely diverged. He fanned my already intense love of knowledge into a flame, by assuring me that I was to be a useful man in the world. When I would say to him, “How can these things be—and what can I do?” his simple reply was, “Trust in the Lord.” When I told him that “I was a slave, and a slave foe. life,” he said, “the Lord can make you free, my dear. All things are possible with Him, only have faith in God.” “Ask, and it shall be given.” “If you want liberty,” said the good old man, “ask the Lord for it in faith, and he will give IT TO YOU.”
Thus assured, and cheered on, under the inspiration of hope, I worked and prayed with a light heart, believing that my life was under the guidance of a wisdom higher than my own. With all other blessings sought at the mercy seat, I always prayed that God would, of His great mercy, and in His own good time, deliver me
[From the Fredonia Censor of Nov. 18, 1868.]
THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD.
We give this week the last of the series of sketches of incidents and narratives connected with the workings of this institution, written by a venerable conductor of the Underground Railroad train. We know that our . readers will regret the termination of these interesting serial sketches. They were written by our solicitation. We had known for several years that the writer had large experience in this method of transportation, and it was desirable that the incidents of its unwritten history should be preserved, so that future generations may be more devoutly thankful for the departure of this relic of barbarism. To the younger portion of our readers, the sketches may appear to be somewhat imaginative. It will hardly appear to them to be possible that our own county, and particularly the towns along the Lake shore, have formerly been hunting ground for slaves. Yet such is the humiliating fact. The Underground Railroad track lay through our village, and extended along the Lake shore to the Niagara River, and terminated in Canada. Such was the vigilance of the conductors, that, we are informed, no one was ever taken back to slavery from this county while under the care of the Underground Railroad Company. The conductors of this Road were some of the most noble and selfsacrificing men in the world. Instead of collecting fare of their passengers they always paid it themselves. Without the fear of the face of clay before their eyes, they boldly pursued their calling, regardless of the Fugitive Slave Law. The mandates of civil authority did not dismay them or make them violate their consciences by the betrayal of the fugitive. They boldly ly proclaimed, by deeds of heroism and self-sacrifice, their faith in the higher law, and bade defiance to statutes and ordinances when human liberty was at stake.
But this celebrated company is now broken up, and its business will never be resuscitated. President Lincoln, by proclamation, took away all the transportation, and rendered the stock worthless. Gen. Grant and the “Boys in Blue” tore up the track and destroyed the ​structure, so that it will never be used again. Its existence and accomplishments have passed away, and but a small portion of its history will be perpetuated. What would appear singular with most companies, the stockholders do not mourn over their loss.
We know that our readers will thank the conductor for his interesting sketches. Faithful as he was in the perilous business, we can say that we heartily rejoice that his occupation is gone. No more fugitives from slavery will ever seek his humane protection and aid and no more slave catchers will ever wratch his steps in search of the the terror-stricken fugitive for liberty.
But for the Republican party, our own free soil would still be hunting ground for the harrassed fugitive from slavery. This very ground would be cursed with the tread of hunters for human chattels. Such is what the Democratic party would have made our whole country to this day and forever.
The “Lost Cause” is the loss of the power to perpetuate the vile institution of slavery. Glory be to God that Freedom has triumphed, and the sigh of the slave or the fugive from slavery shall be no more heard in our land forever. Let us rejoice that we live in this day of the accomplishment of these great things—that we have had an humble part in its accomplishment, even though it has been but the dropping of the silent ballot for liberty into the ballot box.
The righteous act which abolished slavery also secured our national unity. “The Lord of Hosts, mighty in battle,” fought for us from the moment that it was determined that the oppressed should go free. Truth and justice have prevailed, for which let all the people give thanks, and particularly on the coming Thanksgiving day.