The Cecil Whig., 1881-11-12

| Hdu Sceiuet oulg W liNct my lttlelS Ine
more firmly. and to render my escape
more difficult. Batfled, entangled. anu
discouraged had at times asked myself
the question: May not my condition after
all be Gods work, and ordered for a wise
purpose? and if SO. is not submission my
duty? \ contest had in fact been going
on in my mind for long time between
the clear consciousness of right and the
plausible make. shifts of theology and su-
persttion. The one held me an abiect
slave-a prisoner for life. punished tol
some transgression in which had no lot
nor part; and the other counseled me to
manly endeavor to secure my freedom
This contest was now ended, my chains
were broken, and the victory brought me
unspeakable Joy.
But my nladness was short-lived. for
was not yet out of the reach and power
of the shareholders. | soon found that
| New York was not quite SO free or so
safe a refuge as had supposed, and a
sense of loneliness aud insecurity again
oppressed me most sadly. | chanced to
meet on the street, few hours after my
landing, a fugitive slave whom ] had
once known well in slavery. The nfor-
| The fugitive in question was known in
Baltimore as Allender's Jake" but in
New York he wore the more respectable
name of William Dixon" Jake. in
law, was the property of Doctor Allen
| der. and Tolly Allender, the son of the
doctor. had once made an effort to recap
ture Mr.. Dixon. but had failed for want
of evidence to support his claim. Jake
| told me the circumstances of this at
tempt, how narrowly he escaped being
sent back to slavery and torture. He
told me that New York was then full of
Suutherners returning from the Northern
watering places: that the colored people
| of New York We're not to be trusted:
that there were hired men of my own
color who would betray me for a few dol
lars; that these hired men were on the
lookout for fugitives; that | must trust
no man with my secret: that | must not
| think of going either upon the wharves
or into any colored boarding-house, for
all such p aces were closely watched;
that he was himself unable to help me;
and, in fact, he seemed while speaking to
fear lest ] myself might be a spy and
betrayer. Under this apprehension. as
suppose, he showed signs Of wishing to
be rid of me. and with whitewash brush
in hand, in search of work, he soon dis
appeared.
This picture. given by poor "Jake,
of New York, was damper to my ell
| thu>iasm. My little store of money
would soon be exhausted, and since would
be unsafe FOR me to go on the wharves
for work, and had nointroductions else
where, the prospect for me was far from
cheerful. | saw the wisdom of keeping
away from the ship-yards, for, if pursued
as felt certain | should he, Mr. Auld
my MASTER" would naturally seek me
there among the calkerS. Every door
seemed closed against me. was in the
midst of an ocean of my fellow men. and
yet Il perfect stranger to every one. |
was without home, without acquaintance
without money, without credit. without
work and without any definite knowledge
as to what course to take, or where to
look for snccor. In such an extremity. a
man had something besides his newborn
freedom to think of. While wandering
about the streets Of New York, and lodg-
ing at least one night among the barrels
on one of the wharveS. | was indeed
free-from slavery, but free from food
and shelter as well. kept my secret to
myself as long rs could, but ! was COM
PEELED at last to seek some one who would
betriend me without taking advantage of
my dcStitution to bctray me. Such a
person found in a sailor named Stuart.
a warm hearted and generous fellow. who
from his humble home on Centre street.
saw me standing on the opposite side
walk, near the Tombs prison. AS he
approached me, | ventured Il remark to
him which at once enlisted his interest
in me. He took me to his home to spend
the night, and in the morning went with
me to Mr.. David Ruggles, the secretary
IL co-worker with Isaac T. Hopper, Lewis
and Arthur Tappan. Theodore :. Wright.
Samuel Cornish. Thomas Downing p
\. Bell. and other true men of their
time. All these (save Mr.. Bell, who still
lives. and is editor and publisher of
paper called the Eirrotor. in San Fran
cisco) have finished their work on earth.
Once in the hands of these brave and
wise men. felt comparatively safe. With
| Mr.. RuggleS. on the corner OF Lispenard
and Church streets. was hidden several
days. during which time my intended
| wife came on from Baltimore at my call.
to share the burden of life with me. She
was a free woman, and came at once on
| getting the good news of my safety. We
were married by Rev. J. w. G.. Penning-
ton then Il well-known and respected
minister. had no money with which to
pay the marriage fee, but he seemed well
pleased with our thanks.
Mr.. Ruggles was the first officer on the
81 underground Railroad whom | met
after coming North. and was, indeed, the
only one with whom had anything to
do till became such an officer myself.
Learning that my trade was that of
calker, he promptly decided that the best
place for me was in New Bedford, Mass.
| He told me that many ships for whaling
VOYAGES were fitted ont there. and that |
might there find work at my trade and
make good living. So, on the day of
the marriage ceremony. we took our lit
tie luggage to the steamer JohH ". Rjrh-
the line running between New York and
| Newport. r. l. Forty-three years ago
| colorcd travellers We're not permitted il
the cabin, nor allowed abaft the paddle
wheels of steam vessel. They were
compelled, whatever the weather might
| be,-whether cold or hot, wet or dry
to spend the night on deck. Unjust as
this regulation was. it did not trouble lis
mucl; we had Jared much harder before.
We arrived at Newport the next morning.
and soon after an oid-fashioned stage
coach, with New Bedford" in large
| ,-,lI,,. l,,+or. .,, ~ s;loS emma ,l,,,, e.,