The independent-reporter. [volume] (Skowhegan, Me.) 1909-1955, 1917-02-22


other escorted by Captain Philbrick,
my father and myself Went up the
steep back flight and into the shed
chamber. This was really like an
odfashioned attic and evidently I'M
pressed the man as an interesting
place Captain Phlbrick. who like
my father was an ardent anti-slav-
cry man, seemed to find the expert
ence an amusing one. | can see him
now, peering into barrel and urg-
ing the stranger to pull out its con-
tents saying, You know he might
have condensed himself into this
After this attic had been thoroly
searched without finding anybody,
the procession moved into a chamber
occupied by my brothers A long
dark closet opened out from this I'M
der the caves for the whole length of
the ell. 1t always had been grim
" fascinating spot to me and thrill
passed thru me as father impressive
ly threw open the door and said,
Now, here is first class place for
hunted man to hide. Perhaps you
would like to inspect it. If so. the
constable and | will wait outside as
there is hardly room for three men
to 20 in on their hands and knees, tic
say nothing of getting out again.
The officer declined the invitation
with the same alacrity that | should
have shown under similar conditions.
| felt that my aversion to 1t was JUS
tilted. The rest of the search was
less exciting tho all the beds had to
be re-made after the posse departed
The black man did not appear again
and it was long after that ! learned
that these had been Federal Officers
hunting him under the Fugitive Slave
Law, and that he was in the closet
under the caves when my father was
so cordially inviting the officer TO
enter. In the dark hours of the FOL
lowing night my father had driven
him in an apparently loaded wagon
up to Deacon John Bicknelfs nome
at Arson or Athens and the good
Deacon had passed him on to the
next station of the under ground
railroad. This adventure was not an
unusual experience with my rather
hut the search of the house was the
most exciting of anything that l re-
member.
The following experience is not
from my own knowledge but | have
60 often heard it told that it seems
to me | must have been part OF II,
At one time my father announced
that a well known antislavery speak
err would speak from his pulpit on "a
Thursday evening. A storm of in
dignation shook the little town An
earnest protest was prepared ana
signed by influential citizens, but,
supported by a few brave spirits
such as Lawyer Mcclellan and Cap
tain Philbrick, my father stood hrm.
The evening came and the little meet
ing house was packed. man car
rying a large horn appeared in the
gallery. Outside. a crowd of boys,
of whom our dear old friend. Levi
Weston. has told me he was one, were
amusing themselves and others col
lecting material for bonfire on the
common. The Congregational. or
parish. Westinghouse stood where
Charles Marston's home now stands
So the noise and glare came in at the
front door.
My young father and the speaker
arrived upon the scene. A respect
full silence prevailed while father
conducted the opening exercises, and
he seated himself after introducing
the speaker with the comfortable
feeling that all might go well yet He
did not notice that all the doors that
shut the occupants of the pews away
, into sacred privacy were left ajar
The speaker began his address and a
prominent man in one of the front
pews arose, threw open his pew door