# Sketches in the History of the Underground Railroad/Chapter XIX

CHAPTER XIX.
One of the early settlers in Onondaga Co., N.Y., was Rev. Mr. R——. He was a highly educated clergyman, and a popular preacher. The church in the rural township of F——, where he owned one of the best farms in the county, would have been glad to secure his services as pastor, but having property sufficient to maintain his family, and a wife who was capable of managing his affairs, he determined to devote himself to missionary labor in the far South. No recollections of my childhood are more vividly and distinctly marked in my memory than his portly figure, firmly seated in his saddle on his great chestnut mare, with immense saddle bags stuffed to their utmost capacity with changes of linen, children’s toy books, tracts and Testaments, and the delight with which, after an absence of half a year, all the children in the settlement greeted his return, and listened to his wonderful stories of his adventures, missionary labors and providential escapes from wild beasts in the wilderness and alligators in the rivers. When he described the growing cotton, indigo, rice and sugarcane, it seemed to us children that he must have been half around the world since we saw him last. There were in those days no missionary societies, therefore he was selfappointed and self-sustained, paid his own expenses, thought his own thoughts and spoke his own opinions, ​which were not always quite agreeable to his slaveholding brethren. There being as yet no abolition excitement, he met with little trouble. Whatever cruelty might have been practiced toward the slaves, little of it came under his observation, but in trying to do his duty to all classes, the poor and the rich, the bond and the free, the degradation of the low order of the white population became a source of astonishment and grief to him and the slaves, who seemed both more intelligent and more happy than they, so far as he had observed, occupied an enviable position in comparison.
Being in Charleston, S. C., one day, he bought mater­ial for some shirts, intending to stop a day and get them made at brother Poindexter’s, a Baptist brother, living on his plantation farther down. Before he got out of the city, he heard, in passing a large building, an auctioneer selling property, while his voice was almost drowned by cries of distress. He had heard of sales of slaves at auction, but had never seen one, therefore he went in to see for himself. The result of what he saw there changed his mind in that matter; no amount of ignorance and social degradation could balance the horrors of the slave auction, especially as the few advantages that some of them had enjoyed for improvement and culture only tended to increase the wretchedness of the poor slaves. He was a man of ardent piety and tender feelings. His love to God wrought in him a love for all His people created in His image, and for whom He made the sacrifice of His Son for their salvation, therefore, by the time he reached the hospitable mansion of the planter, he had prepared in his mind a sermon suited to the subject that he had seen illustrated at the slave auction.
On his arrival great joy was expressed by all the family; negro boys were mounted on horses and sent in all ​directions to give notice of a meeting to be held in the evening at the log meeting house in the woods, on the edge of the plantation. Mrs. P—— and her daughters, happy in having the privilege of doing something for the missionary who had sacrificed so much in so good a cause, commenced making the aforesaid shirts, of which he was in sore need. When the hour for services to commence arrived, the house was filled with the planters and their families from all the country around. The missionary had not mentioned his morning’s adventure—he felt troubled, and had a ship been there going to “Tarshish” he might possibly have been tempted to take a voyage in that direction, as did the prophet of old, but he was not the man to shirk responsibility. His text was Isaiah, Chapter 58, 6th verse: “Is not this the fast that I have chosen, to loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, to let the oppressed go free, and that ye break every yoke?” There were no shorthand reporters there, and no copy of the sermon is preserved, but he was not the man to “daub with untempered mortar,” and the reader is left to judge what kind of a discourse such a man would preach from such a text, having just witnessed a slave auction, and its effect on a slaveholding audience.
Twenty years later the preacher would have been lynched, but at that time the ideas that prevailed in 1776 were still held, even in the slave States—that slavery would be abolished gradually by all the States, therefore some of the slaveholders were pleased with the chastisement they had received, thinking it might do good, among whom was brother P—— himself; but his wife and daughters saw it in another light. They were terribly indignant; they would put up with no such meddling with their affairs, and gave notice that not another stitch would they take on those shirts. All this ​Mr. R—— heard as they walked home through the woods, so on their arrival at the house, at 10 o'clock p. m., he asked for his horse. Mr. P—— remonstrated against his leaving that night, but the ladies grew more and more bitter in their denunciations, and Mr. P—— finally ordered the horse, bidding our friend farewell with many apologies and regrets, and he started, leaving behind his unfinished shirts. Having finished his tour, he arrived home some three months after, but said nothing about the above incident except to his wife, until, some six months afterward, when he received from Mr. P—— a letter to the following purport:
Plantation near Charleston, S. C.,
January, 18—.
Dear Brother R——: It is impossible for me to express my shame and regret at the inhospitable treatment you received at my house in July last, but much as I have suffered in view of those shameful transactions, it is more than compensated for by the glorious results. You cannot have forgotten the thrilling account you gave us of the agony of that slave mother whose infant child was torn from her arms and dashed upon the ground because the speculator who bought her would not buy the child, nor be burdened with it even as a gift. That scene seemed to be obliterated from the minds of the ladies present by your subsequent denunciations of the institution by which women are relieved of their burdens, though it also entails upon them untold sorrows, hence the rude treatment you received, for which my wife and daughters most humbly ask your forgiveness. When you had been gone a few days, Mrs. P—— began to be haunted night and day by a recollection of your description of that scene, but said nothing about it until she awoke one night, screaming and greatly agitated. Seeming disinclined to tell what had frightened her, she again fell asleep, and again awoke still more agitated. She wept so as to be unable to talk for a long time, but when she could speak, she said; "Is it possible that such scenes ever transpire as were described by Elder R——?" "Yes," I said, "they are common. ​Why? what made yon think of that now?” She replied: “I have dreamed twice to-night that I witnessed the sale at auction of our Mary. They made her stand on a table, and all the men present were allowed to handle her in the most shameful and immodest manner, which seemed to give her the most excruciating torture, but she bore it without a word until they tore her baby from her and dashed it into a corner of the room, when she fell from the table in convulsions, while the men laughed and urged on the sale of others. Oh, my God, forgive me! I shall never dare to go to sleep again while we own a slave,”—and she never did.
The next morning I went to Charleston and manumitted all our people. They are now our hired servants. We have learned already that free paid labor is cheaper than slave labor, besides the happiness which comes of doing right. I have not before conceived it possible to enjoy, in this life, the happiness that this act of justice has brought into our house. I believe if all our people could be made to realize the joy of doing right, by undoing a most terrible wrong, they would do as I have done. The sense of safety and peace, no patrol in our streets, no weapons under our pillows, no fear of insurrection, no fearful looking for judgment. Oh! my dear sir! if I could but hope to see the day when, in all our country, all men shall live together as brothers, when we shall have equal rights before the law, so that the poor and ignorant shall have protection against oppression from the more intelligent and wealthy classes, my faith in the stability of our institutions, and the ability of our government to sustain itself, would be unbounded. Remembering with Christian affection your faithfulness and moral courage, I remain, Yours, &c.
When alluding to these incidents, the old gentleman used to say, “since then I have never smoothed off the corners of truth to save my shirts.” These incidents, related in his pathetic language, made a deep impression on my mind in childhood, but much would have escaped my memory had I not heard them repeated by his widow ​just before she died, some years ago, in Fredonia, where some of his family still reside. Some of the children who sat around the old gentleman, and listened to his relation of the above and other equally interesting stories, have since been among the most active agents of the U. G. R. R. Some of them were engaged in the “Jerry rescue,” one of them is now stumping the State of Illinois for Grant & Colfax, and for their zeal in the cause of God and humanity, loyalty and liberty, much is due to the impressions fixed in their minds while sitting at the feet of that good man.