Year: 1859

PHILADELPHIA, Feb. Z, 1859.


There is a man living in this city whose name
has been associa ted with almost every remarkable
slaye case that has occurred in Philadelphia for
the last forty years allude to George F. Alber
ii parsonage well known by repute all through
this region, and not without notorety in places
distant Though still living, his name is historical
and in annals yet to be written is destined to &C.
cupy a conspicuous place. 1t may not be used to
designate the profession he adorns, but, like tina.
of the famous John Ketch, it is too closely con-
nscted with his country's jurisprudence to make
it possible for the historian to ignore it.


Familiar however, as is his cognomen to most
Philadelphians there are comparatively few OF the
present day who have seen the man himself. His
functions are not Of a nature to bring him much
into the light, and, being man of modest disore
ton, he naturally seeks retirement. In former
days, when slave'catching was less unpopular
sport he made himself visible every now and then
about the purlieus of the Courthouse but now
that times have changed and his occupation is
zone the places that once knew him know him no
more. lie has not been noticed near that temple
of uncertain justice more than once in the last SIX
years. and he would not have made his appearance
then if he hadn't been sent for. Nevertheless,
though for the most part invisible, he is not i'm
palpable lie is neither myth nor thing OF the
past but an actual, living man hoary, bale and
hearty; ready to catch a niger tomorrow if a
chance should be offered him. That such is the
fact | can state on the evidence Of my own senses,
having seen him and heard him so express him
self within the last forty'eight hours


had long been wanting on opportunity OF this
kind. had heard much of the man, bu.had new
or seen him but once and then had no chance, as
had no desire to converse with him. was at
the trial of Adam Gibson, the person who, on false
Aestmony and in the face of evidence, was given
,up by Ingram to Albert his captor, to be carried
to Mar yland as a slave. Your readers will remem
lber the circumstance. 1t was the first case tried
before Commissioner Ingram under the new Fugi
tive Slave Law. The room was crowded. 1t was
Immediately over the Hall Of Independence, and
almost directly under the old Liberty Bell. The
people who heard the testimony stood aghast at
the decision While their blood was boiling a
man who had before been to most unncticed,
stepped forth, and taking something from his pock'
ct, which proved to be pinions, proceeded coolly
to fasten them on the wrists Of the victim That
ION was George f. Albert, next to the Commits.
sioner-whose testudnal face, once seen, could
never be forgotten-the most remarkable looking
man in the assembly. His olive-hued countenance
was placid and composed His gray locks, and
jetblack suit and white neckcloth, gave him ven.
cradle and even clerical appearance. Indeed, he
looked altogether more like Doctor of Divinity
than a professional slave'catcAer Nearly ever
since, have had curiosity which has lately rip.
ened into purpose to see the man and hear what
he had to say for himself This purpose carried,
day before yesterday, into execution. What trans.
p.ed at our interview will here relate that your
readers may share with me in whatever instruc.
ton may be derived from it.


Albsrti's residence, which found with some
difficulty, his name not being in the Directory, is
jim densely populated and by no means inviting
part of the city, it's southern suburbs 1t is
small tenement, neat in its external appearance,
and still more tidy, as it proved, within. The
door was opened to my knock by welldressed,
gentsel.looking female, of apparently about 40
gears of age. To my question as to whether Mr..
Albert was in. she was about returning negative
answer, when the gentleman himself made his ap.
2earance at the door behind me. lie sauted me
courtsously, handed me a chair, insisted on taking
me- bat, and did it oil with the grace of q man
with whom politeness 10 q habit. said.


4 fear that, when you hear my errand, you will
think me impertinent. Ihave come here out of Gu.
riosity. have heard SO much about you that
have felt o desire to see you. I am curious to
know how you justify to yourself in the course you
pursue. ] am an Abolitionist. / think you are
entirely in the wrong


IJ ~ ID al, I al 81