THE treatment which Lunsford had received at the hands of the Legislature is certainly surprising, when we consider all the circumstances. Men possessed with a spark of our common humanity would have given more attention to the prayer of an oppressed, man, especially one in his position. He had not even violated the letter of the law, for the statute was one concerning the “migration of free negroes and mulattoes into this State.” This was his native State; here he was born, and lived, and here he hoped to spend the remainder of his days; but the law did not even permit him to purchase his freedom; in no way, except on the ground of some “meritorious conduct,” could this precious boon be conferred, and this must be done by a special act of the Legislature. He was therefore compelled to go to New York to secure this God-given right, which, by the hands of wicked men, had been wrested from him. Lunsford had always conducted himself with great caution in his intercourse with the people of his race; he was respected by some of the best members of the community. He had, by the labor of his own hands, acquired one thousand dollars for his own freedom, besides paying his mistress the full value of a slave's labor. Whilst he was accumulating this sum, he was employed by the governors at the State House in a position of responsibility, and, according to the statement of the private Secretary of State (Mr. Battle), his services were invaluable, and could not easily be replaced by another so trustworthy. In the midst of this state of things, whilst seeking to purchase the freedom of his wife and children, he is ordered to leave the State and all his affairs in twenty days. It was evident, that, for some reason, he was a dangerous man in the community; not that he had violated any law, but he was too aspiring in his notions; he would form too brilliant an example to the slave population in Raleigh. They might be fired to imitate his industry and perseverance, even under the crushing and discouraging weight of slavery. To preserve the institution intact, every such example of heroism and success under great difficulties must be removed; their frequent occurrence would cause nothing but disaster. But the difficulties interposed between himself and freedom were not to end here. Finding that there was still some time—nearly three months—before the next session of the court, he determines to visit his friends in Philadelphia and New York, whose acquaintance he had made while on the visit with Mr. Smith; his object being to ascertain if any assistance could be obtained toward completing the purchase. He could do it unaided, had he only time; but the cruel law left him no alternative; aid must be obtained front some source, or final separation from his family must inevitably follow. Putting into his carpet-bag such things as he needed for the journey, he started, accompanied by a free negro, John Jones, a former slave of Governor D. S. Swain, at this time President of the State University at Chapel Hill, whence Hinton Rowan Helper had been expelled. They had carefully placed in their pockets their free papers, together with notes of introduction to persons in Washington and Baltimore. They had also their permits to pass over the railroads. Lunsford had the amplest evidence in his possession that he was what he represented himself to be,—a free man, travelling upon legitimate business to the Northern States. They had heard of the perils that beset the people of their race in the cities of Washington and Baltimore; they had listened with tearful eyes to the sad stories of many who had been kidnapped and sold into slavery, and they were, not without reason, fearful of trouble. In the days of which we are now speaking, the slave-trade had not been driven from the District of Columbia; and slave-pens were in full operation there, and in the city of Baltimore. The trade derived from the eastern shore of Maryland was still quite large. On some plantations, little was done toward the cultivation of the soil, and the slaves were allowed in easy life, or such moderate exercise as tended to develop a healthy and numerous progeny for the Southern market. The sale of half a dozen likely negroes, in the spring or fall, was a handsome income, and allowed the luxurious planter, or rather breeder, to entertain his visitors from the city in a style of splendor impossible for the hard-fisted farmer in other portions of the State, where his income must be derived wholly from the culture of the soil. We have known plantations of many hundred acres, where the products for the table were almost entirely derived from the Baltimore markets. With every facility, they were too indifferent to raise beef in sufficient quantity to feed the family and servants. The annual store, except of corn and wheat, was imported from abroad.

The trade in human flesh, where it is conducted as a business, is carried on with great secrecy. Every kind of device is used for decoying children away from their parents, and wives from their husbands. Sometimes the slaves, sent as if on business or pleasure upon the grain vessels, of which there is an immense fleet plying between Baltimore and the innumerable small streams and creeks of the Chesapeake and its tributaries, become a prey to the trader and his agents, who are always on the alert to seize and convey the unsuspecting victims to their pens. In this way, unruly and troublesome servants are disposed of with great facility. But let not the reader imagine that he has seen, in the above statement, all the horrors of Southern slavery. A deeper depth of iniquity is yet to be reached. The stock in trade of these dealers did not consist wholly in the class that they knew to be slaves. Thousands of slaves have escaped into the Northern States, and many others are in different places awaiting the chance of escape. Some of these the agents of the trader, who are scattered along the whole border dividing the Free from the Slave States, succeed in arresting. But every negro, whether they know him to be a slave or a freeman, coming within their power, is in danger of being consigned to the fearful servitude. Every colored man, if a stranger, passing through the State, whether by railroad or upon the highways, is considered a slave escaping from his master. If he has the most undoubted evidence that he is a freeman, or has some friend at hand who can vouch for him, he may succeed in escaping their clutches.

Lunsford, on reaching Washington, called upon Mr. Joseph Gales, the father of Mr. Gales, of the firm of Gales & Seaton, proprietors at that time of the Intelligencer. The old gentleman had visited his former master's house in Raleigh, and had thus been led to take an interest in Lunsford, which was much increased when he learned from his own lips and from his papers the object of his mission to the North. Knowing the fearful hazard he must run in passing through a Slave State, as he was about to depart, Mr. Gales said to him, “]Lunsford, I had better give you a few lines to our mutual friend, Gideon Smith, of Baltimore; you may have some trouble in getting through.” The villanous character of the slave-trader was, to some extent, known to Mr. Gales. Thus provided, Lunsford and Jones reached Baltimore on Saturday afternoon, and put up at a very respectable boarding-house, kept by Henry A Butler, a colored man. The next day being Sunday, they spent part of Saturday evening in preparation, and in making inquiry about the places of religious worship, arranging their plans as to how they could see and hear the most in their brief stay, intending to leave early on Monday morning for Philadelphia. Little did, they dream that even then the land-sharks employed by the Slaters and the Woodforks were upon their track, and had been, from the moment the cars landed them at the depot on Pratt Street. They had followed them to Butler's boarding-house, and, even in the guise of casual callers, heard the plans of Lunsford and Jones for the morrow. Lunsford attended church in the morning, and had returned to dinner. As his companion, who had attended a different place of worship, had not made his appearance, he began to feel uneasy; but his fears for his friend were soon changed to a sense of the terrible reality of his own situation: the door opened, and three men entered and arrested him, asserting, at the same time, that they were officers of the law (a base falsehood). They briefly stated that his companion, Jones, had been arrested as a runaway, and was now lodged in their prison on Pratt Street, and that they also suspected him as travelling under false pretences; that they had been ordered to arrest him, that he might undergo an examination, now, at their office. The office of the Slaters was in the first story of a handsome brick building on Pratt Street, back of which was the slave prison. The stranger passing this establishment, as we have done, would never suspect the unrecorded outrages which those interior walls have witnessed. Many have been the victims who have issued from them only to pass into the hopeless condition of a brief and cruel service upon the rice and cotton plantations of the South.

These emissaries of the under very coolly conducted Lunsford to the office of their employers on Pratt Street. Feeling quite satisfied that he could, for the present, at least manage his own case, and being pretty well informed as to the character of the men who were now seeking to get him into their power, he accompanied the men with no hesitation, and with but slight perturbation of mind; he felt indignant, and he was determined to assume, in their presence, a bold and confident defence. Of course they had their case ready, and the reasons why they had ordered his arrest,—they had received letters informing them that slaves had escaped from North Carolina, and he and his companion answered very closely to the descriptions sent them. They had other evidence, leading them to believe that they were the identical slaves who had escaped. They closed by demanding the evidence that he was a freeman. Lunsford, in reply, gave a plain, unvarnished statement of his former position in Raleigh; the name of his former master; his having purchased his freedom; and all the circumstances leading to his present journey. He produced his permit to travel, and referred Them to persons in Washington to whom they could write. He dared not produce his free papers, or let them see his letters of introduction, as he feared they would unhesitatingly destroy them if once in their hands. He learned that they had taken from Jones his free papers. They finally asked for his. He very prudently stated to them that if he was now before the proper officers of the law, who had a right to examine them, he would readily produce them, but not otherwise; if they could convince him that this was the proper place to deliver up his papers, he would not hesitate to do so. He said also that he had letters of introduction to persons in the city whom he had not yet seen; but these he was not prepared to show them. He should deliver them in the morning, and he might then convince them that he was what he stated himself to be,—a freeman. Unwilling to allow their victim to escape so easily, they suggested to him that he might leave the city before to-morrow. They furthermore stated that it had been determined to try both their cases on Monday morning, at ten A. M., before Squire Shane, and that it might be necessary to put him with his friend Jones, for safe-keeping! Lunsford stated that it was not his purpose to leave the city until his friend Jones was liberated, and his free papers restored to him. That he should be ready to accompany the proper officers to Squire Shane's, at the hour appointed; that till then he could be found at his boarding-house. Finding that they had made some mistake in the kind of chattel they had arrested, they concluded to defer the case until the time appointed. With some feeling of chagrin, he was allowed to depart. On returning to the boarding-house, he found his friends in a state of great alarm; and when they learned that the case was to be tried before Squire Shane, hope almost forsook them. It was notorious that Shane had seldom been known to decide a case, no matter what the evidence, in favor of a colored man's freedom. It was determined, if they could not have the case tried before some other justice of the peace, to make the best defence they could. His first duty was to obtain the best legal advice. On inquiry he found that there was only one lawyer in town who had taken much interest in the cases, and who had been the instrument in defeating the schemes of these unprincipled men. This man was Mr. Walch, at this time just commencing his career, and, with honor be it said, he exhibited a humanity and sense of justice, on this occasion, deserving of great praise.

Lunsford, in company with his friend Gideon Smith, to whom he had a note of introduction from Mr. Gales, called upon Lawyer Walch and made known to him the condition of his affairs, submitting to his examination his papers and letters. Those were all satisfactory. It was, therefore, arranged that Mr. Walch should meet their adversaries at ten A. M. on Monday morning. Lunsford and his friend Gideon were on hand. So were those pretended officers of the law, with their man Jones, and were proceeding in great haste to dispose of their cases. Shane, on looking over the papers of Jones, decided that he could find in them no certain evidence of his being a freeman; these papers may have been forged, as many instances attested; he must produce some one besides his friend here (Lunsford), who could state upon his own authority, and from his personal knowledge, that he knew him to be a freeman. He had had too many cases of runaways lately, and it was necessary to be more than commonly guarded. Unless other and stronger proof could be adduced, he must decide against the liberation of Jones. He was about proceeding with Lunsford's case, and had commenced to ask some questions, when Mr. Walch came in. One glance at the assembly told Mr. Walch that these unfortunate negroes were in the hands of unscrupulous and wicked men. He had met and thwarted their malicious designs upon other occasions, and he felt now he had a strong case. Arresting Squire Shane in the midst of his remarks, he demanded, as the counsel of the accused, a restatement of the proceedings thus far, and an account of the evidence already adduced to show that these men were slaves. They were unable to produce a single positive proof of the truth of their assumptions. He allowed the squire to proceed with the examination of Lunsford; the substance of which varied but little from that in respect to Jones. They had received letters from North Carolina respecting escaped slaves, and the description very closely corresponded to these negroes. When asked to produce these letters and description, they were not ready to comply. Lawyer Walch then commenced by giving a brief history of the many persons of color who had recently been kidnapped and sold into hopeless slavery; that the business had now become so common that a free colored man found it almost impossible to pass safely from one State to another, without being gobbled up by the most unprincipled men in the community; that it was unsafe for them to reside on the border of the Free States, where there was great danger of being hurried by the agents of the soulless trader from their homes and families, and consigned to involuntary servitude. In the absence, then, of any proof that these men are runaways, let us look at the evidence in their favor; let us examine their papers and the circumstances of their advent here. Both these men have well-authenticated free papers,—those of Lunsford showing that he was made a freeman of the State of New York; they are signed by men known to us, and have no appearance of being forged. In addition to this, they give us the names of highly respectable gentlemen in Washington and Raleigh, also known to us, to whom we can write. They have letters from such men as the venerable Mr. Gales, of Washington, and to this gentleman present, Mr. Gideon Smith, well known in this community. Mr. Smith is also ready to testify that he knew the master of Lunsford in Raleigh, and of his having purchased his freedom. Now, how had these men come into the city? Not in the night time, crawling away under cover of the forest to escape the sight of men, but in broad daylight, upon one of the public conveyances; they repair to a respectable boarding-house, kept by a colored man, known in this city for his uprightness of character. This is on Saturday evening. How did they spend their Sabbath? Not secreted from the public, shut up in those secluded hiding-places for runaways, but they arrange their plans, as Christians should, to attend the house of God on the day set apart for his worship. They are arrested upon this day; one of them (Jones), upon his way from the house of God, is unceremoniously, and without authority, upon bare suspicion of persons interested in the slave-trade, consigned to prison,—not to the public prison, but to one of those private institutions for the safe-keeping of slaves awaiting a market. Let us look at the character of those who have made these arrests: they are not the authorized officers of the law, but agents of individuals interested in consigning free persons to slavery. “I forbear an expression of the abhorrence I feel for men capable of such infamous conduct, —deeply do I commiserate the free colored people who are so unfortunate as to be entrapped in their wiles.” By this time, Lawyer Walch had succeeded in fully establishing their right to freedom, and arousing the just indignation of all present against these wretches, who cowered beneath his eloquent and truthful denunciations. He showed, in the most convincing way, the unmitigated rascality of the deed which these emissaries of the slave-power meant to inflict upon the wronged and inoffensive men. Justice Shane, for once, in view of incontrovertible evidence, quietly determined to dismiss the case. Great was the joy of Lunsford and his companion at their liberation from the hands of these men. Had Lunsford been a man of less character and standing in the State whence he came; had he been less informed in regard to cases of kidnapping and the means used by unscrupulous men to decoy away their victims; had he been less upon his guard; had he used only a little less effort in vindication of his freedom, he and his companion would, doubtless, have been consigned to slavery for life. But, thanks to that overruling Providence which had preserved him so far, he was not permitted to feel this additional sorrow. Lunsford and his companion were received by their friends at the boarding-house of Mr. Butler, after the trial, with expressions of joy which they could not repress. Many sympathizers were there gathered, and they spent some time in discussing all the events of the day, and called to mind the cases of friends who had not been so fortunate as they, and who had, in spite of their right to freedom, been stolen by these men and sold South; some of them they had heard from; but the great majority were beyond the region of hope or sympathy, compelled to end their days in toil unrequited, and in a life of infamy. Lunsford and Jones, unable to continue their journey as they had intended, determined to remain with their friend, Mr. Butler, until Tuesday morning. These friends spent their evening in recounting instances of similar outrages upon their acquaintances which had occurred in late years. Lunsford's retentive memory enabled him to relate many instances of sufficient atrociousness to convict the institution of a barbarism unequalled in human annals. The case of Rachel Parker, a free colored girl, excited much interest. “She was kidnapped,” said Lunsford, “from the house of Joseph S. Miller, of West Nottingham, Pennsylvania, by the notorious Elkton kidnapper, McCreary. Mr. Miller tracked the kidnappers to Baltimore and tried to recover the girl, but in vain. On his way home he was induced to leave the cars, and was undoubtedly murdered,—it is supposed in revenge for the death of Gorsuch, at Christiana. Mr. Miller's body was found suspended from a tree. A suit was brought, as you may remember, Mr. Butler,” said Lunsford, “in the circuit court of Baltimore County, near where we now are, for the freedom of Rachel Parker. Over sixty witnesses from Pennsylvania attended to testify to her being free-born, and that she was not the person she was claimed to be; although, in great bodily terror, she had, after her captivity, confessed herself the alleged slave! So complete and strong was the evidence in her favor that after eight days' trial the claimants abandoned the case, and a verdict was rendered for the freedom of Rachel, and also of her sister, Elizabeth Parker, who had been kidnapped and conveyed to New Orleans.” The case of Gorsuch being alluded to, some one inquired for the particulars; as the case excited great interest in Baltimore at the time, Mr. Butler gave them the particulars. The incident occurred at Christiana, Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. “Edward Gorsuch, represented,” said he, “by those who knew him, as a very pious member of a Methodist Church, with his son Dickinson, accompanied by the sheriff of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, and by a Philadelphia officer, named HENRY KLINE, went to Christiana to arrest certain slaves of his who, as he had been privately informed by a wretch named Padgett, were living there. An attack was made upon the house, the slave-holder declaring that he ‘would not leave the place alive without his slaves.’ ‘Then,’ replied one of them, ‘you will not leave here alive.’ Many shots were fired on both sides, and the slave-hunter, Edward Gorsuch, was killed.” “Not many years since,” said Lunsford, “a case occurred in Indianapolis which is well authenticated, where the poor man had even more difficulty than Rachel Parker in escaping slavery. John Freeman, a free colored man, was there seized and claimed as the slave of one Pleasant Ellington, a member of the Methodist Church of Missouri. Freeman pledged himself to prove that he was not the person he was alleged to be. The United States marshal consented to his having time for this, provided he would go to jail and pay three dollars a day for a guard to keep him secure! Bonds to any amount to secure the marshal against loss, if Freeman could go at large, were rejected. Freeman's counsel went to Georgia, and, after many days, returned with a venerable and highly respectable gentleman from Georgia, Mr. Patillo, who voluntarily made the long journey for the sole purpose of testifying to his knowledge of Freeman, and that he was well known to be free. But Freeman was still kept in jail. After several days, Ellington brought witnesses to prove Freeman to be his slave. The witnesses and the counsel wished to have Freeman strip himself to be examined naked. By advice of his counsel he refused. The marshal took him to his cell and compelled him to strip. The witnesses then swore that he was Ellington's property. Freeman's counsel then produced further evidence that he had been known as a freeman twenty years. Ellington claimed that he had escaped from him sixteen years before. The man who did escape Ellington just sixteen years before was discovered to be living near Malden, Canada! Two of the Kentucky witnesses had visited and recognized him. Freeman was thereupon released, with a large, debt upon him,—one thousand two hundred dollars,—which had grown up by the unusually heavy expenses of his defence and long imprisonment. Freeman brought a suit against Ellington for false imprisonment, laying damages at ten thousand dollars. A verdict for two thousand dollars was given in his favor, which was agreed to by Ellington's counsel.” The above incident reminded Lunsford of the case of an old acquaintance, whom in his boyhood he had known in Raleigh, but who when quite young was sold to a Virginia, planter. He early achieved his freedom, and removed to Wilkesbarre, Pennsylvania, and became waiter at the Phœnix Hotel. His sad story he gleaned from his friends and from the newspapers. William Thomas, or Bill, as he was called, Lunsford described as “a tall, noble-looking, intelligent and active mulatto, nearly white.” Whilst attending to his duties as usual at the hotel, he was suddenly attacked by one Wynkoop, a deputy marshal under the fugitive slave law, and four others, three of them Virginians in search of supposed runaways. These men came suddenly from behind, knocked him down with a mace, and partially shackled him. He struggled hard against the five, shook them off, and with the handcuff, which had been secured to his right wrist only, inflicted some hard wounds on the faces of his assailants. Covered with blood, he broke from them, rushed from the house and plunged in the river close by, exclaiming, “I will be drowned rather than taken alive.” He was pursued, fired upon. repeatedly, ordered to come out of the water, where he stood immersed to his neck, or “they would blow his brains out.” He replied, “I will die first.” They then deliberately fired at him four or five different times, the last ball supposed to have struck on his head, for his face was instantly covered with blood, and, uttering a cry, he sprang up in the water. The by-standers began to cry “Shame!” and the kidnappers retired a short distance for consultation. Bill came out of the water and lay down on the shore. His pursuers, supposing him dying, said, “Dead niggers are not worth taking South.” Some one brought him a dry pair of pantaloons. He was helped to his feet by a colored man named Rex; on seeing which Wynkoop and party headed him and presented their revolvers, when poor Bill again ran into the river. Here he remained upwards of an hour, nothing but his head being above water, covered with blood, and in full view of hundreds who lined the banks. The atrocious character of the deed was long in penetrating the heads and hearts of these free, white American citizens. At length a few tardy preparations were made to arrest the murderous gang, but they had departed from the town. His claimants dared not pursue their victim further into the water, for, as he afterward declared, “he would have died contented, could he have carried two or three of them down with him.” After his pursuers had gone, Bill waded some distance up the stream, and was found by some women, lying, upon his face in a cornfield. They carried him to a place of safety and dressed his wounds. He soon disappeared from Wilkesbarre, and the last heard of poor Bill he was seeking a livelihood in one of the Canadian provinces, where this odious slave-hunting law has no existence. The demoralization to which a portion of our Christian community can descend is seen in the subsequent career of this Wynkoop, the appointed agent of the government in this transaction. This man and another were, not long afterward, arrested in Philadelphia on a charge of riot, the warrant issuing from the State magistrate of Wilkesbarre, on complaint of William C. Gildersleeve of that place. Mr. Jackson, the constable who held them in custody, was brought before Judge Grier, of the United Suites Supreme Court, by habeas corpus. Judge Grier, during the examination, illustrated by his conduct how a villain can be shielded from punishment under the forms of law. “I will not,” said the judge, “have the officers of the United States harassed at every step in the performance of their duties by every petty magistrate who chooses to harass them, or by any unprincipled interloper who chooses to make complaints against them,—for I know something of this man who makes this complaint. If this man Gildersleeve fails to make out the facts set forth in the warrant of arrest, I will request the prosecuting attorney of Luzerne County to prosecute him for perjury. . . . . . If any tuppenny magistrate, or any unprincipled interloper, can come in and cause to be arrested the officers of the United States whenever they please, it is a sad affair. . . . . . if habeas corpuses are to be taken out after this manner I will have an indictment sent to the United States Grand Jury against the person who applies for the writ, or assists in getting it, the lawyer who defends it, and the sheriff who serves the writ. I will see that my officers are protected.” The wickedness of this law is seen in the fact that it not only suppresses every humane feeling to help our suffering fellow-men, but it compels the officers of the law to arrest and shoot down defenceless human beings, whose greatest crime against the State is that they loved freedom too much! “On a subsequent day,” concluded Lunsford, “these prisoners were discharged, Wynkoop among the rest, the judge making this deliberate statement, in view of all the facts above related: ‘We are unable to perceive in this transaction anything worthy of blame in the conduct of these officers in their unsuccessful endeavors to fulfill a most dangerous and disgusting duty; except, perhaps, a want of sufficient courage and perseverance in the attempt to execute the writ.’”*

* See tract of “The Fugitive Slave Law and its Victims,” p. 31.

THE reader may as well be assured here as at any other time, that the narrative here given to the public is a statement of matters of fact, either received from the lips of Mr. Lane himself, or from information possessed the compiler by a residence in the South, or drawn from well-authenticated documents. Sometimes conversations are introduced which were not in the exact language stated. An example of this kind the reader had in the last chapter. All the circumstances of the attempt to kidnap took place as stated at the time and place. No fictitious names are given. Even the intelligent proprietor of the colored boarding-house in Baltimore, Mr. Butler, may be still living and pursuing his business. The only variation being in the class of facts introduced in the conversation at Butler's house, between Lunsford and his friends, on the evening of the day of their liberation from the hands of wicked men. The statements there introduced are entirely reliable; so much so as to form valuable material for a future history of the iniquities of the infamous law for the rendition of fugitive slaves. We call it infamous because it was the means, while it could be enforced, of sending many innocent human beings into the bondage of Southern slavery, who had as good a title to freedom as any of the citizens of Massachusetts. It was natural that Lunsford and his friends should recall the many instances of kidnapping that had come to their knowledge, although these might be different cases from those related. Lunsford had now fairly triumphed over the evil designs of the slave-catchers of Baltimore, and in doing so had made some friends upon whom he could rely in future, as he might be compelled to pass through the city frequently before he had completely rescued his family from slavery. Lunsford and his companion, Jones, passed on to Philadelphia, without further molestation. Here he delivered letters of introduction to several individuals, who listened with some interest to his statements. He made the acquaintance of Mr. Cauthen, the Philadelphia philanthropist, who had, by his personal efforts, but lately rescued three colored men who had been kidnapped and sold into slavery. From this gentleman he learned that a very important meeting was to be held in New York, of sympathy for several persons who had in a similar manner to the above escaped the “gins and traps” of the soulless slave-trader. As this meeting was to be held in a few days, he hastened on, leaving his friend Jones to care for himself by his own industry in Philadelphia. He found no difficult in obtaining a hearing at this meeting, and the assurance that he might rely upon securing the pecuniary aid needed, by a little industry in his personal applications. With this assurance, he hastened back to Raleigh to make his appearance at the next session of the court, and to wind up his affairs, if possible, for his final departure from the State. It will be remembered that Lunsford had really only twenty days to remain in the State after the first notification, and yet he remained beyond that time, relying upon the influence of Mr. Battle and other friends.

On reaching Raleigh, Lunsford consulted with his lawyer and the prosecuting attorney as to the course best to pursue. Their advice was that if he would leave the State, and pay the costs of the court, the case should be dropped, so that his bondsmen should not be involved. Lunsford, knowing the prejudice against him, concluded to stay as long as he could, settle up his affairs, and leave. He determined to make as earnest an appeal as he could to the friends of the colored man in the North, for assistance, and he had some hope that in this way he might be successful.

He had now paid Mr. Smith six hundred and twenty dollars; he had a house and lot worth five hundred dollars, which he had agreed to take when the balance had been raised. Before leaving, Mr. Smith gave him a bill of sale of one of his children, Laura, in consideration of two hundred and fifty dollars already paid. This child he determined to take with him to the North. The costs of the court which he had to meet in the above case amounted to between thirty and forty dollars, which drew heavily upon his now contracted means. On the 18th of May, three days after the court commenced its session, he bade adieu to his friends in Raleigh, and set out for the city of New York. He was furnished with several letters of introduction from friends in Raleigh, each speaking in high commendation of his uprightness of conduct, and commendation of his case to the generous sympathy of others. One of them was from Mr. John Primrose, a highly respectable man; one from Mr. Battle, which was of great service to him. He took also a letter from the church of which he was a member, together with such other papers as related to his affairs. He also received the following certificate:—

He took good care to see that the above was officially certified to, in the usual form, by the clerk of the court of common pleas and quarter sessions.

Thus fortified with documents, he proceeded to New York. Although his success was at first small, he soon fell into the hands of two friends, who generously offered to raise him three hundred dollars, provided he should first obtain from other sources the balance of the sum required, which balance would be one thousand and eighty dollars. Thus encouraged, he proceeded to Boston, where the intelligent and discriminating philanthropy of the people, in a very brief space of time, enabled him to reach the sum required. Lunsford not only expressed his thanks personally to these friends for their kindness, and the many ways in which they aided him in introducing him to others, but on public occasions he has taken pleasure in bearing testimony to their kindness of heart toward the oppressed. If it were proper, and the limits of this publication would permit, he would gladly have their names recorded. “On the 5th of February, finding that I should soon have in my possession the sum needed for the purchase of my family, and fearing that there might be danger in visiting Raleigh for that purpose, in consequence of the strong opposition of many of the citizens against free persons of color, and especially as they had already evinced their opposition to me in persecuting me from the city, I wrote to Mr. Smith, requesting him to see the governor, and obtain, under his hand, a permit. to visit the State for a sufficient time to accomplish the business. I requested Mr. Smith to publish the permit in one or two of the city papers, and then to enclose the original to me. To this letter he replied in a week or ten days after its reception. It was as follows:—

The date of this letter is in February, 1842, at which time the Washingtonian Reformation was making great advances in the United States, rescuing thousands from their thraldom to this insidious and ruinous vice. The reader is referred, for fuller particulars, to the history of this reform as recorded in the life and labors of John H. W. Hawkins, who, it will be seen, in a year or two after, made a tour through all the Southern States. By his faithful labors thousands were saved from the drunkard's miserable doom. His labors in Raleigh were attended with his usual success. But to return to Lunsford. The way now seemed, in a measure, opened for his safe return. Certainly, he argued, that, in a community all alive to the subject of religion and temperance, where he had lived and labored faithfully in “that state of life into which it had pleased God to call him,” he ought to expect kind treatment, and receive protection from the designs of evil men. Still feeling some distrust as to the assurances of Mr. Smith, his wife's master, who might, after all, have a pecuniary interest in his speedy return to Raleigh, he hesitated to leave without a written permit from the governor. Desiring, therefore, to use every precaution, he addressed another letter to Mr. Smith, and received, under date of March 12th, a reply, from which we copy the following:—“The governor has just returned, and I called upon him to get the permit, as you requested, but he said he had no authority by law to grant one; and he told me to say to you that you might in perfect safety come home, in a quiet manner, and remain twenty days without being interrupted. I also consulted Mr. Manly (a lawyer), and he told me the same thing. . . . . . Surely you need not fear anything under these circumstances. You had, therefore, better come on just as soon as possible.”

The life of Lunsford had been so checkered and uncertain thus far, that he felt, even now, some distrust as to his future reception in Raleigh. He determined, therefore, to conduct himself with all the discreetness possible, and refrain from doing anything that might excite the jealousy even of the poor white man. So little is done at the South to elevate this class that, it sometimes happens that slaves owned by wealthy and intelligent masters far surpass them in learning and refinement of manners. Instead of discharging their hate and resentment against the institution that has inflicted these grievous evils, they content themselves with ill-bred and brutal assaults upon the unoffending negro, who rises in spite of his chains. Nothing but the storm and tempest of revolution, where the sword is called upon to arbitrate, can break the delusion and clear our moral heavens from these prejudices against color. In the season of adversity the people learn wisdom. “On the 11th of April I felt happy; it was the noon-time of my varied life; I had raised the, amount requisite for the deliverance of my wife and children. I remembered well the day of my own emancipation and I ceased not to rejoice in my freedom. I could almost anticipate the feelings of my wife and the dear ones God had given me, their feet at length pressing the free soil of Massachusetts, and I and they offering up to God the incense of grateful hearts. In my inmost soul I felt that I was undeserving of favors so great. I could trace his hand in every event of my past life. He had not forsaken me, and I even now reproached myself for any tendency in my heart to distrust him in the future. For myself I could only say,—

“With these high hopes, I left Boston on my way to Raleigh, intending to pay over the money for my family and return with them to Boston, which I designed should be my future home. There I had found friends, and there I was willing to labor, and there I would find a grave. I was now about to visit my old home in the South for the last time, and little did I dream that I should be thrust rudely from its portals. Certainly, I thought, the assurance received from the governor, who knew me well, through Mr. Smith, was sufficient to protect me in this last visit to the place of my birth and boyhood, where I had toiled as a slave and a freeman, and, finally, as waiter upon the governors of the commonwealth. I had faithfully discharged my duties; I thought I had deserved their respect. With these thoughts, and the bright anticipation of again joining my family, I departed for Raleigh, passing through Baltimore,—on this occasion without molestation. I arrived in Raleigh on the twenty-third of the month. It was Saturday, about four o'clock in the afternoon, upon a pleasant day in April, when I once more found myself in the midst of my family. They were anxiously looking for me, and yet they hardly dared to hope for their ultimate freedom. It was sweet to spend the hours of that quiet Sabbath with them, after so long an absence,—an absence filled with so much of interest to me and to them. I had been in ‘perils by mine own country-men,’ and out of them all the Lord had delivered me. My family were still where I could reach them, and perhaps save them from a life of servitude. Although there were a thousand things that I wished to say respecting my Northern visit, I dared not utter them even to my wife. I therefore kept quiet and humbled myself. I mused in my own heart and was still. My business being delayed until the beginning of the week, I was making ready on Monday morning early to complete the business of the purchase of my family. I was about starting for Mr. Smith's store, where it had been arranged I should meet him, when between eight and nine o'clock., two constables entered,—Murray and Scott,—accompanied by two other men, and summoned me to appear immediately before the police. I accordingly accompanied them to the City Hall; but, in their eagerness to crush me, they had arrested me too early in the day for the tardy magistrates and their attendants; the hall was locked, and the officers could not, at the moment, find the key. We were told that the court would be held at the store of Mr. Smith, a large and commodious room. This is what is termed, in common phrase in Raleigh, and I had heard the term used by members of the Legislature, a ‘call court.’ The mayor, Mr. Loring, presided, assisted by William Boyden and Jonathan Busby, Esqs., justices of the peace. A large number of people had gathered, and I immediately found myself the centre of considerable interest; there were more, indeed, than could obtain admission to the room, and a large crowd of turbulent spirits gathered about the door, thirsting for my blood. Mr. Loring read the writ, setting forth that I had been guilty of delivering abolition lectures in the State of Massachusetts.

“He asked me whether I was guilty or not guilty. Retaining my self-possession, I replied that I did not know whether I had given abolition lectures or not; but if it pleased the Court, I would relate the course I had pursued during my absence from Raleigh. He then said I was at liberty to speak for myself. ‘The circumstances under which I left Raleigh,’ I said, ‘are perfectly familiar to you all. It is well known that I had no desire to remove from this city, but resorted to every lawful means to remain, while in pursuit of an honest calling. Finding that I could not be permitted to stay, I went away, leaving behind everything I held dear, with the exception of one child whom I took with me, after paying two hundred and fifty dollars for her. You are well aware that previous to this I was a slave, the property of Mr. Sherwood Haywood, and after many years of faithful labor purchased my freedom by paying the sum of one thousand dollars. It is also known to you, and to many other persons here present, that I had engaged to purchase my wife and children of their master, Mr. Smith, for the sum of twenty-five hundred dollars, and that I had paid of this sum, including my house and lot, eleven hundred and twenty dollars, leaving a balance to be made up of thirteen hundred and eighty dollars. I could have made up this amount, had I been permitted to remain here. But, being driven away for no crime of which I am conscious, no longer permitted to raise the balance due for the liberation of my family, my last resort was to call upon the friends of humanity in other places to assist me. I went to the city of Boston, and there I related the story of my persecutions here, in the same manner that I now state them to you. The people gave a patient hearing to my statements, and one of them, the Rev. Dr. Neale, wrote to Raleigh, unknown to me, to Mr. Smith, inquiring of him whether the statements made by me were correct. After Dr. Neale received Mr. Smith's reply, he sent for me, informed me of his having written and read to me this reply. The letter fully satisfied Dr. Neale and his friends. He placed it in my hands, remarking that it would in a great measure do away the necessity of using the other documents in my possession. I then, with that letter in my hands, went from house to house, calling upon persons at their places of business, going from church to church, relating, whenever I could gain an ear, the same sad story of my wrongs to which I am now referring you. In pursuing that course, the kind people generously came forward and contributed, the poor as well as the rich, until I had succeeded in raising the whole amount, namely, thirteen hundred and eighty dollars. I may have had contributions from abolitionists; but I did not stop to ask those who assisted me whether they were anti-slavery or pro-slavery. I was too thankful to get the money, and it was immaterial whence it came if it would only accomplish the object I had in view. These are the simple facts as to the manner of my proceeding in the Northern States; and now, sir, I humbly ask whether such a course can be construed into the charge made against, me,—that, I have been giving abolition lectures?’

“In the course of these remarks, I presented the letter of Mr. Smith to the Rev. Dr. Neale, of Boston, showing that I had acted the open and honest part while in Massachusetts. I also referred to my having written to Mr. Smith, requesting him to obtain for me the permit of the governor; and I showed the court Mr. Smith's letters in reply, in order to satisfy them that I had the promise of the governor, that I should be unmolested in Raleigh, until I had time to settle up my business and return to the North. Mr. Loring then whispered to some of the leading men; after which, he remarked that he saw nothing in what I had done, according to my own statement, implicating me in a manner worthy of notice. He then called upon any person present, who might be in possession of information tending to disprove what I had said, or to show any wrong on my part, to produce it; otherwise, I should be set at liberty. No person responding to his remarks, I was thereupon discharged. I was starting to leave the house, and had nearly reached the door, when I was met by Mr. James Litchfield, who touched me upon the shoulder, and I followed him into the back part of the store. He hastily informed me, from what he knew of the temper of the mob outside, that, if I went out of that room, in less than five minutes I would be a dead man. They were waiting, he said, like hounds, to drink my blood. Mr. Loring, who I think was really a friend, but powerless in this instance to render me any assistance, spoke to me again, and said, notwithstanding I had been found guilty of breaking no law, yet public opinion was law; and he advised me to leave the place the next day; otherwise, he was convinced I should have to suffer death. I replied, ‘not to-morrow, but to-day:’ He answered that I could not go that day, as I had not yet accomplished the object of my return. I said I was willing to trust my business in his hands and to several other gentlemen like himself, assured that they would not see me wronged. I mentioned several names, suggesting that they could settle matters for me with Mr. Smith, pay over my money, and send my family to meet me in Philadelphia. This was finally concluded upon, and a guard was appointed to conduct me to the depot. I had succeeded in reaching a seat in the cars, when the mob that had followed surrounded me, and declared that the cars should not go, and that I should not be permitted to go in them. Mr. Loring, fearing the worst, came along into the cars, and inquired of the mob what they wanted of me. He said to them that there had been a fair examination, and nothing had been found against me; that they were present at the investigation, and invited to speak if they know any reason why I should be, condemned; but that they had remained silent, and that now it was but right that I should be permitted to depart unmolested. They replied that they wanted a more thorough investigation; that they wished to search my trunks (I had but one) and see if I was not in the possession of abolition papers. This species of evidence is all-powerful with the Southern rabble. When all other proofs fail, a scrap of paper bearing this stamp, wrapped about a pair of old shoes, has proved the death-warrant to many unsuspecting travellers in the Southern dominions! It had now become evident from the temper of the crowd, that I would not be allowed to leave in the cars, and my friends advised me, as a means of safety, to go the shortest way possible to jail! The mob appeared terribly enraged, and seemed to thirst for my blood. The whole city, indeed, was in an uproar. But I found my friends were among the most respectable and wealthy men in the place; and I have no doubt these few did all in their power to protect me. Mr. Boylan, whose name has frequently been mentioned in the course of the narrative, acted toward me the part of a father. Mr. Smith and Mr. Loring, and many other gentlemen, whose names it would be a pleasure to mention, were exceedingly kind to me, and felt no other feelings than indignation toward my senseless persecutors.

“The guard then conducted me through the mob to the prison. I felt joyful that even a prison could now protect me from these villains in human form.

“Looking from my prison-window, I could see my trunk in the hands of officers Johnson, Scott, and others, who were taking it to the City Hall for examination. I learned afterward that they broke open my trunk, and as the lid flew up, the mob cried out, ‘A paper, a paper!’ A number seized it at once, as hungry hounds after a panting fugitive in the Southern swamps. They set up a yell of wild delight and one young man of profligate character, a son of one of the most respectable families in the place, glanced toward my prison window, and by signs and words expressed his gratification. But their triumph was but for a moment. The paper was unrolled, and it was found to be one printed in Raleigh, and edited by Weston R. Gales, a very nice man, it is true, but one far from being suspected of holding abolition sentiments. The only other printed or written thing found in the trunk were some business cards of a firm in Raleigh, which had been handed me for distribution; but these were not considered incendiary! Shortly afterward I saw Messrs Scott and Johnson lugging my carpet-bag in the same direction my trunk had gone. This also was opened at the City Hall, and found actually to contain a pair of old shoes and a pair of old boots; but they did not pronounce these incendiary. Mr. Smith at length came to the prison and informed me that the examination had been completed; and, although nothing had been found against me, it would not be safe for me to leave the prison immediately. It was thought best that I should remain in prison until after nightfall, and then steal secretly away, being let out by the keeper, and pass unnoticed to the house of my old and tried friend, Mr. Boylan. Accordingly, between nine and ten o'clock I was discharged. I went by a back way leading to Mr. Boylan's residence. But I had hardly started on my perilous journey, when suddenly a large company of men sprang upon me, and before I had time to make any resistance, I found myself completely in their possession. They conducted me rudely, at times above the ground, and sometimes I was dragged along; but they moved as silently as possible in the direction of the gallows, which, at the time I am now speaking of, was always kept standing upon the common, or, as it was termed ‘the Pine,’ or the ‘Old Pine Field.’

“I now expected to be hurried suddenly into the world of spirits. I endeavored to calm myself as much as I could in that awful hour. I thought of that unseen region to which I was hastening. Now, I thought, I was to test the value of that religion which I had professed before men. I felt that I could trust in the great redemption, which had been secured for me, and for all men, in the death of my Saviour. He had suffered a violent death for me, and should I shrink from meeting him now? And yet when my mind reverted to the world and to my dear family, I dreaded to leave them. What would become of my wife and children, after all the labor I had made to redeem them from bondage? Although I had secured money sufficient to pay for them, according to the agreement made, it seemed inevitable, should I leave them, that some unfeeling white man would obtain it, and they be left to die in slavery, and the effort of a large part of my life spent in vain. Then the thought of my own death would again rush into my mind, and I was overwhelmed in the solemn contemplations of eternity. I tried to pray. ‘O God,’ I cried in my inmost soul, ‘deliver me from the hands of these wicked men!’ At length I observed that those who were carrying me changed their course a little from a direct line to the gallows. A hope, a faint glimmering sprang up within; but then, as they were taking me to the woods, I thought their intention was to murder me there. In such a place they would be less likely to be interrupted than in a spot so exposed as the field upon which the gallows stood. Having conducted me to a little elevation covered with wood, they set me down.

“ ‘Now,’ said they ‘we want you to tell us the truth about those abolition lectures you have been giving at the North.’

“I thought I detected in the tone and manner of this demand that they were not quite up to the desperate courage of taking my life. And yet I replied as if death was in view. I said that I had related truthfully the circumstances before the court in the morning, and I could only repeat to them what I then said.

“‘But that was not the truth. Now tell us the truth!’

“I replied that any different story would be false, and and if I must then die, and whatever they might think I would say in other circumstances, I would not pass into the other world with a lie upon my lips. One of them said,—

“‘Well, Lunsford, you were always, when you were here, considered a clever fellow, and I did not think you would be engaged in the mean business of making abolition addresses at the North.’

“Several others made similar remarks in a sort of apology for not resorting to extreme measures with me. I replied to them that the people of Raleigh had always maintained that the abolitionists did not believe in expending much money in buying slaves; but contended that their masters should free them without pay. For myself, my simple object was the purchase of my family, and I had labored to do so, without considering the character or the opinions of the persons I approached I had no time to enter into any league with abolitionists, and from my past conduct they certainly could not suppose that I would. After this and other conversation of a like kind, they became tired of questioning me. They at length had a consultation in a low whisper among themselves. Then a bucket was brought, and set down by my side; but what its contents, or for what object intended, I was unable to divine. But, in a moment, one of the number came forward with a pillow, and instantly a great weight was lifted from my mind. A flood of light and even joy sprang up within me. I felt now the crisis in this eventful night's experience had passed. They commenced stripping me, until every rag of clothes was removed. Then the bucket was brought near, and I felt relieved when I found it contained tar. One man whom I knew to be a journeyman printer of the place was the first to dip his hands into the tar, and was about passing them over my face. Mr. William Andres, of Raleigh, may wish to see his name in Print, and so I record it. Burns, a blacksmith in the place, arrested his arm, saying,—

“‘Don't put any in his face and eyes.’

“He thereupon desisted. But he, with three other ‘chivalrous gentlemen,’ whose names I cannot recall, gave me what I suppose they were gratified to behold, —a complete coat of tar, sparing only my face. Then ripping open the pillow at one end, they held it over my head and commenced applying its contents to the tarred portions of my body. I have no doubt I was well tarred and feathered, affording to these well-bred gentlemen another means for the exhibition of “Southern sports.’ A fine escape, thought I, from hanging, provided they do not set fire to the feathers. I had some fear they would.

“These dignified labors having been completed, they gave me my clothes, and one of them, to lay surprise, handed me my watch, which he had carefully kept in his hands.

“They all expressed great interest in my welfare, advised me to proceed with my business the next day, told me to stay in the place as long as I chose, and, with words of like consolation, bade me good-night! They felt that they had now degraded me to a level beneath themselves. Of course I hastened to my family as soon as possible. They had become greatly alarmed for my safety. They were relieved at my presence, but somewhat distressed at the sad plight I presented. Shall I say it? Some of the persons who had participated in this outrage came into my house, influenced, probably, by a curiosity to witness the mode of removing a coat of tar and feathers. They were now lavish with their words of sympathy for me; they even regretted that the affair had taken place; that they had no objection to my living in Raleigh, or I might feel perfectly safe in going out to transact my business, preparatory to leaving; I should not be molested. Meanwhile, Mr. Boylan and other friends, understanding that I had been discharged from prison and finding that I did not come to them according to agreement, became alarmed, and had commenced a regular search for me, on foot and on horseback. They explored the suburbs, and everywhere they supposed I might be. Hearing that I was in the hands of a mob, Mr. Smith called upon the governor to obtain his official interference. Shortly after my return, a guard came to my house, but I chose not to risk myself, even in my own home. I therefore went to Mr. Smith's, where this guard kept me safely until morning. They seemed friendly,—indeed, many of them being among the best citizens in town. My friend, Mr. Battle, the late private secretary to Governor Morehead, was one of them. He made an address to them, setting forth some incidents in my past life, the good conduct I had always exhibited, my services in connection with the governor's office, and the faithful manner with which I had discharged my duties there. In the morning, Mr. Boylan, true as ever in his friendship, and with great kindness of heart, assisted me in arranging my business, so that I might start with my family that day for the North. Leaving in this hurried manner, I was compelled to sacrifice much of my property. While at the North, some malicious persons had removed from the wood-lot all the wood that I had cut and corded, for which I expected to receive over one hundred dollars, thus relieving me of the trouble of its sale, or of being burdened with its care. I was compelled to submit to many other pecuniary losses, but these I was content to count as nothing, compared with the blessing of our liberation.

“In our preparation for departure, Mr. Boylan furnished us with provisions more than sufficient to sustain the family to Philadelphia. Here we intended to abide for a time. He even sent his wagon to convey our baggage to the depot, offering also to send his carriage for my family, but another friend, Mr. Malone, had been before him in this kind offer, which I had agreed to accept.

“The emotions experienced at the moment of parting from my friends almost unmanned me, and I cried like a child. My poor mother was still alive, and the slave of my former mistress, Mrs. Haywood. The cars were to start at ten o'clock in the morning, and I called as early as I could on Mrs. Haywood, where my mother, now advanced in years, was staying. My old mistress was affected to tears, as her mind reverted to the past,—my faithfulness to her and to her children, my struggles and persecutions. In late years she had been kind to me, and, as I then learned, she and her daughter, Mrs. Hogg, then present at her house, had sent a note to the court before which I was tried, representing that, in consequence of my good conduct from my youth up, they could not believe me to be guilty of any offence. And now, with an attachment for me they could not repress, and with tears,—the offspring, as I believe of genuine sympathy, —they gave me their parting blessing. My mother was now called in, that I might bid her a final farewell. I was her only child, and I had no hope of seeing her again in this world. Our old mistress could not witness this scene of our parting unmoved. Unable to repress her feelings longer, she decided, to my infinite joy, that my mother should go with me. ‘Take her, Lunsford, and care for her as I know you will as a dutiful son. Should you ever become able to pay me two hundred dollars, you may; otherwise it shall be my loss.’ The following paper was immediately drawn up; it is in the ordinary form of a pass:—

“Leaving Mrs. Haywood's, I called upon Mrs. Badger, another daughter, and wife of Judge Badger, already mentioned. She seemed equally affected, and wept as she gave me her parting counsel. She and her sister, Mrs. Hogg, and I were once children together, engaging in the same sports, in the ample play-ground around the old mansion. We knew then but little of the different conditions of our birth; not then had we learned that they were of a superior and I of a subject race. In those days of childhood there were pencillings made upon our young hearts which time and opposite futures could not all efface. I trust these dear friends may never be slaves as I have been; nor their bosom companions and their little ones be in bondage like mine. The hour was now rapidly arriving when the cars were to start. The whole town seemed to be gathered at the depot, and, among the rest, those turbulent spirits who, unsatisfied with the indignities they had already heaped upon me, appeared determined that my final departure should not be peaceable. Apprehending this, Mr. Boylan and others had arranged with my friends and the conductor that my family should be put in the cars, and that I should go out of the city by some secluded street, and, having gone a mile or two, pass over to the track and be taken up as they passed. The mob, supposing that I was left behind, at length permitted the cars to depart. Mr. Whiting, one of the agents of the road, kindly aided us in the purchase of our tickets, and protected us from being molested, as far as Petersburg, whither he was going. On his leaving, Captain Guion, of Raleigh, performed the same kind office as far as Alexandria. Here we were placed in the care of a citizen of Philadelphia, who protected us quite out of the confines of slavery into the land of freedom. The malice of my enemies did not cease upon my entering the cars upon the road out of Raleigh. Kirkham, a tin-ware worker, whom I identified as being one of the mob, I found was a fellow-passenger, and at every station at which the cars stopped he would rush out and endeavor to excite the people at the station to drag me from the cars, and in violent language denounce me as an instigator of insurrection and a negro abolitionist from the North. My friends, however, were more influential than this excitable individual, and we passed on unharmed.

“We had only one misfortune, and that was the losing of a trunk containing most of our valuable clothing. This we have never been able to recover, but our lives are spared to rejoice in our freedom. When my feet pressed the pavements of Philadelphia, with my family around me, consisting of nine dependent beings, with my money nearly expended, and with nothing to depend upon but my two hands, I still felt happy; I felt as though I was in a new world. I could now draw a long breath and inhale, without let or hindrance, the pure atmosphere of freedom.”

THE incidents of the last chapter are so closely connected with the well-being of Lunsford that several individuals alluded to in this narrative deserve a further notice. Mr. Smith had, no doubt, some interest—a pecuniary one—in Lunsford's safety. Should the mob unfortunately make way with him, it would be an unpleasant matter to dispose of the thirteen hundred dollars brought from the North. It would be inhumanity to send a widow and seven orphan children to the North, inexperienced as they were, to gain a living, with all the prejudices against their color. Pondering upon these things, Mr. Smith felt very uneasy until he found Lunsford under a safe guard in his own house.

He was much in need of funds, and had rendered Lunsford all the aid in his power by writing complimentary letters to the friends of the slave in Boston, confirming his statements, and urging the humane people to give liberally of their means. Lunsford had at length procured the needed funds, but was unwilling to transmit the money, fearing that his family might, under some pretext, be still retained in bondage. Now, that Mr. Smith really needed this money, is a fact quite apparent in the last note he addressed to Lunsford. It is as follows:—

TO Lunsford and his rescued household, as their feet pressed the soil of freedom, every sight and sound, and every breath they inhaled, seemed to bring a new joy to their hearts, and to fill their souls with new energy to enter upon the new and untried life before them. They were poor; but poverty to the industrious and virtuous is not the worst misfortune. They were of a despised race, and of a dark skin; but there were evils greater than those, which they had escaped. Good conduct, strict attention to business, and faithfulness in their duties to God and man, might soften these prejudices, perhaps in time remove them, and the dark skin might be no bar in coöperating with another race in the great enterprises of the benevolent and good.

FAILING in his Western enterprise, Lunsford returned to Massachusetts, and determined to settle in Worcester. His means by this time were nearly exhausted; but, possessing good health, natural resources, and a disposition to labor, he soon placed his family in comfortable circumstances. We have omitted, thus far, to mention one fact in Lunsford's past life which added something to his pecuniary support and increased the respect entertained by those who knew him well. Early in life, when a slave in Mr. Haywood's family, he had evinced considerable knowledge and good judgment in the curative art. Although he had perused no work or treatise upon “materia medica,” we have no doubt that the best-informed members of the profession had much more respect for his evident good sense and modesty of professions than for the multitude of quacks who add nothing to the health or to the credit of the community.

The vegetable medicines used by Lunsford among the slaves upon his master's plantation, where he was permitted at times to give his advice, were those of his own selection and the result of continued experiment. His success in many cases in Raleigh among the humbler classes, where for a time he practised the healing art, was a circumstance particularly noticed. Soon people of the better class sought his advice, and readily accorded to him the physician's prenomen of Doctor. He had continued to practise the art after his settlement in the Free States, as opportunity admitted, never designing, however, to enter upon it as a profession.

And yet if Dr. Lane's Vegetable Pills have never done much good to mankind, he promises they will do no harm; but they have added something to his pecuniary support. We shall now return to an earlier period in Lunsford's history, to detail several events that added much to the happiness of every member of his family. About the year 1844, whilst the family were residing at Boston, his father joined him. This event was brought about in the following way:—

Mrs. John Haywood, many years before this, had left his father free, with the understanding that he was to remain in the family as steward, in which office he had acted with great acceptance for years before. This desire on Mrs. Haywood's part arose from the circumstance that her youngest daughter, Frances, was at this time only eleven years old, and she was desirous that Uncle Ned—by which sobriquet he was familiarly Known—should remain until she was of age. His peculiar business, at odd moments, when relieved from other duties, was to tote about this young heiress-apparent of future slaves, who were in turn to do the same “toting” for the generations yet unborn. It was the request of Mrs. Haywood—who, no doubt, imagined that her children would inherit her benevolent disposition—that Uncle Ned should be paid remunerative wages during this period, in view of his valuable services in maintaining, as far as a sensible servant could, the dignity and good order of the family. The seven years passed by, during which Uncle Ned remained faithful to his post, but no payment for services was forthcoming. They could not think now of turning him away in his old age to care for himself; they therefore pressed him to remain, and he continued to make himself useful to the children of a new generation for seven years after.

They were, indeed, kind to him;—how could they be otherwise! Such was his sense of respect for the family of the Haywoods, such the goodness of his heart, that though they had broken their solemn contract with him, he ever entertained the kindest feelings toward them, and would never allow even his own wife or child to utter in his presence a disparaging sentence. During this time, the son, by the efforts already detailed, having secured a comfortable home in Boston, intimated to the family in Raleigh the satisfaction it would be to have his father join him where his aged wife also lived. The Haywoods consented to this proposition, and Uncle Ned soon found himself surrounded by the strange sights and sounds of civilized life in Boston. Unused to such scenes, so unlike life in the country, his son, to render life more congenial to his habits, more easy and agreeable, procured him the situation of gardener to the villagers about Wrentham. Fortunately for the aged father, the Rev. Horace James was at this time the colleague of the Rev. Dr. Fisk, pastor of the Congregational Church in Wrentham. In Mr. James he found a true friend and sympathizer. He employed Uncle Ned in taking care of his garden and grounds, and in many ways added to his comfort, making up in a large degree for the kindness experienced in the old family mansion in Raleigh. Very soon, through the efforts of his industrious son, the subject of this memoir, a comfortable home was purchased for his aged parents. Here Uncle Ned was permitted for more than fifteen years to enjoy the society of his wife and the grandchildren, who often made them visits from Boston.

He secured the respect of the whole community, and by his polite and obliging manners endeared himself to all. At his death the people in large numbers came to pay a last tribute of respect to the remains of a good man. The body was escorted by a large procession to one of the churches in town, and two clergymen of different denominations were present to bear their testimony to his worth, and to perform the last sad rites due to a deceased follow-mortal. The religious papers of the day spoke of his pious walk, and the happy example left by this descendant of a despised and downtrodden race.

Three months after the death of his father, Lunsford was called to the death-bed of his mother; her end was hastened by a paralytic shock, which she had experienced several years before. They were buried side by side, in Wrentham,—beloved and esteemed for their virtues by the whole community.

During the period alluded to above, Lunsford and family resided in Boston and enjoyed frequent communication with the aged parents living in Wrentham.

The family had connected themselves with the First Independent Colored Baptist Church. The disposition of Lunsford to render himself useful in every good word and work was strong evinced in his efforts to aid this church. The old building, now known as the “Joy Street Church,” having fallen into decay, the members came together to devise means for its repair, and, if advisable, the entire remodelling of the edifice. With great unanimity they selected Mr. Lane as their agent to solicit subscriptions for this object. In this work he was engaged nearly two years, procuring for the society a large portion of the funds with which the object was successfully accomplished, in the present neat and comfortable building.

The following documents may seem curious to the citizens of Massachusetts, who are unacquainted with the business of buying and selling men, women, and children. Lunsford, as every prudent man should, who has ever been in like circumstances, has preserved carefully the bills of sale which accompanied the transfer of his wife and children to his hands. Both are in the handwriting of Mr. Smith. The first is that of his daughter Laura, as follow:—

The following is a similar document pertaining to the sale of his wife and the other six children, to which the papers following are attached:—

IN the remaining portions of this narrative, some account will be given of Lunsford's life and conduct at the beginning of the present rebellion. So intimately are the interests of the colored race connected therewith that the history and progress of the one cannot be considered without the other. Few persons in the community are willing wholly to ignore the question as to what shall be done with the four million persons in bondage. Whether right or wrong, the irrepressible desire, on the part of these colored children of the South, for freedom, is forcing itself upon us in many ways, by their actual appearance in multitudes in the Free States, as our armies advance into the domain of slavery, or swarming on the Southern coast, whenever our victorious forces compel the retirement of their owners.

What shall be done with four million slaves, is the question on thousands of lips. Will they labor as freedmen for a living? Can we ever educate them so that they shall not be continual pensioners upon our bounty? And, finally, the question is forced upon us, Will they fight for their freedom, since the slave-holders of the South still continue their rebellion to keep them in bondage?

Lunsford Lane, at this time residing in Worcester, endeavored, both in public and in private, to answer some of these questions. His long residence at the South, and his extensive acquaintance with persons of his race, made him in some sense a representative of their views. To this end he visited a number of towns, and, where he was kindly received and a hall could be obtained, he lectured.

The present writer was at that time residing in Wilkinsonville, where he first made the acquaintance of Lunsford, and so much interested did he become in his history that he is only fulfilling a promise then made, that at some time he would endeavor to make more public the foregoing history. Dr. Lane, at the same time, gave a lecture in the hall of that village, which was very well attended, and with which the people were much pleased. His remarks, evinced a practical good sense which all seemed to appreciate. He spoke substantially as follows:—

“The wishes of the colored people are much misunderstood by their friends North and South. We desire, in the first place, freedom in its truest and best sense,—not a mere license to do as we please. Having secured this, we wish to be situated so as to be profitably employed, so as to benefit the State as well as ourselves. We have no desire to remain in the Northern States, except as a temporary place of refuge from slavery. This is not our native climate. We love warmer suns and a more productive soil. Here our offspring wither and die. They revive and flourish under the warmer skies of the South. As soon as peace is concluded, and security for life and limb is guaranteed, we would return to a clime so well suiting our constitutions. In North Carolina alone, there are thousands of acres of unoccupied lands, which might be made to flourish under the diligent culture of the black man. We could occupy these lands as tenants or as owners, adding largely to the annual productions of cotton, rice, wheat, and vegetables.

“In a state of freedom, our wives and daughters would not be employed in the rough out-door labor of the men, as now. They would drop the spade, the hoe, and the plough, and attend more to the duties of home in the rearing of our neglected offspring, giving far more attention to their cleanliness and comfort. We know they are ignorant. We would want schools and teachers, where they may be taught lessons of morals as well as of industry. The railroads of the South have employed nearly as many females, old and young, in their construction, as men. The pick, the shovel, and the cart, have been operated equally by the females. This should not be. Our children are thus neglected, and grow up as ignorant as the brutes.

“We want more freedom for Northern teachers and religious instructors to visit the South, that they may spread before us the life-giving pages of God's Word. Heretofore, ignorance and prejudice have almost banished these devoted men from the holy labors to which they were willing to devote their lives. We have no desire to leave the United States for a residence in the British Provinces, under a government with which we are not acquainted; nor to emigrate to Liberia, or to the West Indies. The South is our home; and we feel that there we can be happy, and contribute by our industry to the prosperity of our race, and leave the generation that succeeds us wiser and better. No greater mistake can, therefore, be made than to suppose that we desire to come North. We only desire a secure freedom in the South. We hope not only to support ourselves, but to add greatly to the wealth of the country, in the way of exports of surplus corn, and cotton, rice, and sugar. We expect to be more decently clothed ourselves, and to purchase more and valuable articles from the industrious and mechanical North. The old, clumsy implements of agriculture that have been a source of weariness these many years we shall throw away, and purchase of Massachusetts her hoes and ploughs and rakes and cultivators and mowing-machines. Our men and women in the field will then have clothing enough to cover their nakedness; not as now abashing the modesty of the refined and virtuous. The old ‘quarters’ and the rude, uncomfortable cabin, will give place to more convenient and healthy houses. We shall provide for our families more healthy and nourishing food. The provender heretofore has been chiefly corn and bacon,—not such bacon as we find here at the North. The swine of the South are a far different race from that known at the North. There the herds run wild in the woods, subsisting upon roots and nuts. A few weeks before Christmas, the whole herd is with difficulty driven into a pen in the open air, to consume a certain number of bushels of corn in the ear or on the stalk. After being cured in the great smoke-house, the sides are dealt out, in rations of from two to four pounds per week, to the slaves. This, with the peek of corn, constitutes their subsistence weekly, from year to year. We do not expect or need luxuries; but we hope, in the good time coming, to add to the above good healthy bread and butter and milk. Tea and coffee, being unknown articles in the cabin, would then be in demand. There is no branch of business or of commerce which would not be benefited by our elevation and industry. Millions of acres, now worthless, would be made to bud and blossom as the rose.”

Thus Lunsford sought, in a very unpretending way, to awaken a renewed interest in the colored race; hoping that advantage might be taken of this rebellion, by which great blessings might be conferred upon his unfortunate brethren in the South, who, unlike himself, were yet in bondage. He continued these and other labors as he could, until an event occurred which brought him into an entirely new relation.

Deep were the sympathies aroused by the fearful carnage of civil war; thousands were made sick by the sudden change of life and diet, and many of these found in T. W. Wellington, of Worcester, a true and generous friend. The Massachusetts sick and wounded, at an early stage of the war did not receive that amount of care needed to preserve life. They were languishing in the hospitals near the seat of war, or in Washington, when a little more attention to their wants, and a change of climate to one nearer home, it was hoped, would be instrumental in saving the lives of these patriotic men. Mr. Wellington early saw that something must be done, and that there was no time for delay. With no desire for display, and in a quiet manner, he secured a roomy house at No. 110 Mason Street, Worcester, which he opened on the 20th of August, 1862. Having known Lunsford Lane sufficiently to feel entire confidence in him, he placed him as steward over the hospital, into which his family removed. Mr. Wellington's intention at first was to receive the sick and wounded from the battle-field, and so communicated his intention to the Secretary of War; but the War Department, from various prudential reasons, refused to have the soldiers removed to hospitals in their respective States.

Mr. Wellington immediately determined to receive those who became sick or disabled in the various camps of instruction in the State. The building was provided at his own expense, and was pleasantly situated, and furnished with every convenience for the ease and comfort of the invalid. Spring beds and soft mattresses were not wanting. The best medical aid the city afforded was employed. The steward and his family, Mr. Lane and wife and two daughters, were constant in their attendance and care in the duties of nursing. A better selection could not have been made than this. A more thorough and whole-souled devotion to the wants of men suffering in a holy cause is seldom seen. The numerous letters received by Mr. Wellington from those who had recovered their health and were permitted to join their commands on the battle-field were most gratifying. These letters were especially pleasing to Mr. Lane, as they often spoke of his faithfulness and the many kind acts they had experienced at his hands and from his family.

Although Mr. Wellington was disappointed by the rigid rules adopted by the War Department, at Washington, in not permitting the sick and disabled who were near the seat of war to be cared for in their own States, he found ample opportunity for the exercise of benevolence near home. The whole number received into the hospital, during the five months it was in operation, was between fifty and sixty. These, it will be remembered, were sick and disabled soldiers from the camps in the State. Recruiting in this State had nearly ceased in the fall, and the regiments in camp had marched to the seat of war. The Wellington Hospital was therefore left without patients, from want of material at home to work upon. Notwithstanding, the hospital was kept open and his steward and family employed for a number of months, hoping that the order at Washington might be revoked or modified, and allow the soldiers suffering in the hospitals around Washington to be cared for by the generosity of their fellow-citizens.

The alacrity with which the colored people throughout the country have aided the government in the care of the sick, and in the various duties in camp and on the march, is worthy of great praise. They seem fully to understand that one great result of the war is to benefit them, and hence they are willing to offer themselves freely upon the altar of their country.

It was the part of wisdom that the government of the United States should take advantage of the friendly feeling of the colored people, amounting as it did to the most decided loyalty, and thus render available their good offices in the restoration of the Union and the suppression of the rebellion.

The policy of the government in reference to the persons of African descent is now most decided, and the Proclamation of Emancipation is now daily being enforced.

William Whiting Esq., Solicitor to the War Department, in response to an invitation to address the convention of colored citizens at Poughkeepsie, has written a letter, important from the information it contains and the official assurances which it conveys. We quote the concluding portions, as setting forth the determination of the government as to their future treatment of a large and important class of our citizens:—

THE children of Lunsford Lane were all born within the domain of slavery, and, but for the heroic life of the father, would this day be in bonds. Two of these children, William and Lunsford, are now at Port Royal, South Carolina, serving their country, upon one of the United States transports, conveying troops for the suppression of the slave-holders' rebellion. A letter received by their father a few days since, from these boys, breathes words of patriotism, as they witnessed the enlistment of the freedmen in our army. They speak of their determination, on their return, to enlist in the Fifty-fourth Regiment of colored volunteers of Massachusetts. Thus the sons of escaped slaves are rendering powerful aid in the suppression of this wicked rebellion, and in the emancipation of their race.

The organization, equipment, and departure, of the Fifty-fourth Regiment of colored troops to the seat of war is now a matter of history. The conduct displayed in the storming of the fortifications on Morris Island is deserving of a much fuller account than can now be given. It may throw some light upon this interesting subject, should we collect the statements of the press of the recent events connected with its departure, and its eventful history at the seat of war. It is not expected that the information here given is in every particular correct; in the haste of journalism many mistakes are made, which official documents only can correct. The time occupied in the enlistment of this regiment was very brief after the official order for its organization had been received by Governor Andrew. The rapidity with which the drill was acquired was particularly noticeable. The good order and discipline of the men— far exceeding some of the white regiments that have gone from our populous cities—was another praiseworthy feature.

The deep interest manifested in its well-being and future conduct was evinced by the multitudes who daily visited their camp at Readville. Colonel Shaw, its brave and patriotic commander, left nothing undone which could add to its efficiency and success. Previously to its departure from Readville, a large number of its friends gathered to witness the presentation of the regimental colors. We glean from the Boston Journal the following account of this interesting event:—

THERE are strange vicissitudes in war; we are rapidly making history on this continent. The change going on as we write, in the position and condition of the African race, is quite surprising. In former chapter the reader was taken, with Mrs. Haywood and her daughters, in their coach and two, with Lunsford as driver, to that interesting town of Washington, North Carolina. Then, no sign of change appeared in the condition of the slave the same monotonous round of toil on the plantation was seen from day to day and from year to year; and the owner looked upon the status of the African as fixed. To-day (1863) the recruiting officer has his tents pitched in that same Washington and thousands of freedmen are being enrolled for the great battle for freedom.

Their strong desire to be so employed is proven from the reports reaching us from many portions of the field of conflict. These liberated slaves understand that it is a fight for the freedom of their race; the proof of their efficiency as soldiers also continues to accumulate.

An officer in General Wilde's African brigade, who is engaged in receiving recruits at Washington, North Carolina, gives the following interesting account of the black volunteers:—

“They vary in height from five feet ten, to six feet two inches, averaging about five feet and six inches. They are of good build, stout, soldier-like, very enthusiastic, and highly pleased that they can do something for their freedom. They rejoice that they can be armed, and, under the protection of the flag of the Union, go to the rescue of their fathers, wives, children, brothers, and sisters, who are now in the hands of the oppressor, and, if need be, bleed and die for their safety. They feel that they have suffered enough of cruelty, privation, and separation, and that the year of jubilee has come. They come of all ages,—the young and the old. When the latter are told that too many years have passed over their heads the tears roll down their checks, while they say, ‘I want to do something.’ ‘My sons shall go, but I want to go, too.’ The women are enthusiastic in the cause, and are urging the men to enlist. One said to a man unwilling to volunteer, ‘Then give me your clothes, and you take mine, one of us shall go.’ The women have formed themselves into a sewing-circle to work for the colored soldiers who have enlisted.”

They are also raising money for a banner to be presented to the Second Regiment of North Carolina Volunteers, which is fast filling up. The colored women of Newbern, by great industry in soliciting subscriptions from their own people in small sums, collected sufficient to purchase a handsome flag for the First Regiment, of which it is understood Colonel Beecher, the brother of the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, is to have the command. This money was placed, if we are correctly informed, in the hands of the Rev. Horace James, who purchased the flag in Boston, and has long since forwarded it to Newbern. In addition to this, subscriptions are being made to assist the families of those who have volunteered. The government does something for such families; but often, when the poor wife goes to the department for a week's rations for herself and children, a mere pittance is put into the basket, and she is ordered to ‘come no more.’ As soon as practicable, General Wilde will correct this injustice, and colored people will be put in a position to rise morally and intellectually.”

An officer in one of the Louisiana colored regiments thus speaks of his experience with negro soldiers in a letter from Port Hudson:—

“Every morning we were busily engaged in transforming nude, ragged, uncouth-looking plantation hands into straight, brisk, neat-looking United States soldiers. And such is the result: the poor, stupid slave comes in one day the most hopeless-looking wretch; the next morning, after one good night's rest from his long tramp from the interior, a refreshing wash in the bayou, and a change of clothes from tatters and rags to a blue uniform transforms him into a man. We can scarcely understand it, but the slave knows it well. It is the long-expected jubilee. His faith is at last crowned with its full fruit. If I had time, I could tell you almost incredible stories about these victims of the accursed system. In examining the persons of our recruits, we find the work of the lash. In many cases you can scarcely lay your finger between the seams and scars, all along from the shoulder down. We are now at Port Hudson, assisting at the siege. We had drilled our recruits about two weeks, just so as to got the facings and wheelings, when we were ordered to the front. Our commands are detailed each day to the very important work of building fortifications, so we have in our department no fair chance to see how our men will act in a regular fight; but, if to stand in front of the enemy, exposed to their fire, and continue the work without any comparative fear, be any proof of valor, our men give ample evidence in that way. They have the first and most important element of soldier-ship,—subordination.”

The writer was a fellow-passenger in the cars a short time since with the Rev. A. L. Stone, D. D., of Boston, lately returned from Newbern, Where he has been a chaplain of a Massachusetts regiment. From a brief conversation the following interesting facts were obtained:—

THE employment of this army of male contrabands must necessarily leave a large number of dependent women and children, whose fathers and protectors have enlisted in the army, to be supported in some way. To leave them, in the present unsettled condition of the various military districts, to perish, would be most inhuman. We are glad to find that the government is alive to the work, and the most prudent measures are being devised and executed to relieve their distress. What to do, and how to employ the contrabands is, and will for some time be, a most perplexing question. To ascertain what could be done the government some time since appointed Robert Dale Owen, James McKaye, and Samuel G. Howe, commissioners to inquire into the condition and necessities of the slaves freed during the war. The commissioners have made a preliminary report concerning their investigations in the District of Columbia, Eastern Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, and Florida. The Boston Journal gives the following synopsis of this report:—

“In the three sections first-named, the Commission are confident that the freedmen need not be, for any length of time, dependent upon the government for assistance. They are loyal, faithful, and willing to work; docile and uncomplaining. The negroes of South Carolina and Florida are of an essentially different character, having been much degraded by the harshness of the ‘peculiar institution.’ The most effective agency to give character to the race is found to be military training; and the Commissioners are of opinion that one hundred thousand negroes might be profitably employed as military laborers, and three hundred thousand as soldiers in the field. This number of able-bodied men, represent a population of a million and a half, being nearly one-half of all the colored people in the insurrectionary States. To provide for this population then, becomes an important question, and a system of guardianship is recommended, though, with the accompanying reflection, that such an arrangement must be only temporary in character.

“The plan of provisional organization which they suggest includes a Superintendent General of Freedmen, to rank as a Brigadier-General, with his headquarters at Washington; three Department Superintendents, and below these, Resident Superintendents for each important station, with assistants, clerks, and other officers. Under these officers the refugees are to be constantly employed, receiving fair wages, that they may learn that emancipation does not mean idleness, or gratuitous labor. The importance of educational and religious instruction is also strongly urged, and the eagerness of these people to receive it is dwelt upon.

“The Commission express the opinion that the care of the refugees should be substantially separate from the ordinary military administration of the army, and are confident that, if a judicious selection of officers be made, the plans they propose will meet with practical success.”*

IN the present chapter we design to consider some of the difficulties in the way of the advancement of the African race on this continent, on the ground of prejudice. This prejudice exists North as well as South, and among various classes of the people. The slave-holder has no prejudice against the negro so long as he is a slave; but the moment he seeks to rise in the scale of being, and takes part with him in the duties of the citizen, his antipathies are aroused.

The poor whites of Raleigh, as soon as they encountered Lunsford Lane as a free man,—freed as the result of his own labors,—said, “You are only a nigger, after all.”

It will be through much tribulation, and a persistent course of well-doing, that our colored fellow-citizens will be able to overcome this deep-seated prejudice. God often over-rules our severest trials as the procurer of our richest blessings. A signal instance of this is seen in the late persecution of the colored people of New York, and in other cities. The vials of wrath against these unoffending people seemed now to be unstopped, and their contents poured out. We stop not now to consider the immediate cause of this outbreak. Let our politicians do this. We are considering only the facts.

The future historian will feel only shame as he writes the brief paragraph in our social annals of the New York riots of July, 1863, and the treatment received by this people. That our adopted fellow-citizens from the Green Isle should have participated in these scenes is surprising. In no country is there less prejudice toward them. Here they are indeed free. Here they may rise to any position of influence, with no disabilities to impede their advancement. We esteem them highly for their virtues and industry. We are rejoiced to see them so steadily increasing in wealth and in happiness. Why, then, should they seek to crush the poor African who, too, seeks to rise?

That we may see the ruinous and irrational and even barbarous extent to which this prejudice may run, if indulged, let us briefly review these late riots. We will not go into the brutal particulars. We simply state results.

One account estimates that three thousand colored people have been made homeless, penniless, and destititute, by the recent mob. The situation of these unfortunate victims of brutality and violence has attracted the attention of the wealthy citizens of New York, and in accordance with the views of a meeting of merchants and others, recently held, arrangements will soon be made to relieve the wants of those who are known to be in a suffering condition, as well as to ascertain the whereabouts, and minister to the necessities of many more who are probably secreted in places of doubtful security.

Another report states that list of all the colored persons now in the care of the commissioners of charities and correction of the city (New York) comprises five hundred and twenty persons. Three hundred and sixteen of the number arc actual refugees from the city, and two hundred and six are children from the Colored Orphan Asylum, which was burned to the ground by the mob. Three clergymen are among the first class referred to.

The following is an account of the burning of the Orphan Asylum for colored children. It was visited by the mob at four o'clock:—

“This institution is situated on Fifth Avenue, and the building, with the grounds and gardens adjoining, extended from Forty-third to Forty-fourth Street. Hundreds, and perhaps thousands of the rioters, the majority of whom were women and children, entered the premises, and in the most excited and violent manner, they ransacked and plundered the building from cellar to garret. The building was located in the most pleasant and healthy portion of the city. It was purely a charitable institution. In it there are on an average six hundred or eight hundred homeless colored orphans. The building was a large four-story one with two wings of three stories each.

“When it became evident that the crowd designed to destroy it, a flag of trace appeared on the walk opposite, and the principals of the establishment made an an appeal to the excited populace; but in vain.

“Here it was that Chief Engineer Decker showed himself one of the bravest among the brave. After the entire building had been ransacked, and every article deemed worth carrying away had been taken,—and this included even the little garments for the orphans, which were contributed by the benevolent ladies of this city,— the premises were fired on the first floor. Mr. Decker did all he could to prevent the flames from being kindled; but when he was overpowed by superior numbers, with his own hands he scattered the brands, and effectually extinguished the flames. A second attempt was made, and this time in three different parts of the house. Again he succeeded, with the aid of half a dozen of his men, in defeating the incendiaries. The mob became highly exasperated at his conduct, and threatened to take his life if he repeated the act. On the front steps of the building he stood up amid an infuriated and half-drunken mob of two thousand, and begged of them to do nothing so disgraceful to humanity as to burn a benevolent institution, which had for its object nothing but good. He said it would be a lasting disgrace to them and to the city of New York.

“These remarks seemed to have no good effect upon them, and meantime the premises were again fired,— this time in all parts of the house. Mr. Decker, with his few brave men, again extinguished the flames. This last act brought down upon him the vengeance of all who were bent on the destruction of the asylum, and but for the fact that some firemen surrounded him, and boldly said that Mr. Decker could not be taken except over their dead bodies, he would have been despatched on the spot. The institution was destined to be burned, and after an hour and a half of labor on the part of the mob, it was in flames in all parts. Three or four persons were horribly bruised by the falling walls, but the names we could not ascertain. There is now scarcely one brick left upon another of the Orphan Asylum.”

We append in the note some particulars of the brutalities enacted by the mob.*

THE reader of the foregoing narrative may perhaps feel an interest in learning something of the subsequent history of some of the persons to whom reference has been made. Civil war has no doubt made many changes in the condition of Lunsford's friends. The children of Mr. Haywood, his former master, ever entertained the strongest attachment toward Lunsford and his father Uncle Ned. On learning of his death, which occurred, as stated in a preceding chapter, in Wrentham, Miss Lucy, now Mrs. D. Bryan, who had been carried so many times in the arms of Uncle Ned addressed to his bereaved widow a very consoling letter. it seams that Mrs. Bryan's husband's father owned a fine plantation, to which Mr. Bryan had fallen heir, where they had gone to reside. It is to be supposed that their mansion had ample accommodations for their numerous visitors, from the name given it. It was near to Plymouth, on the Roanoke River.

Lunsford, Miss Lucy, and Miss Delia were children together. The latter afterward became Mrs. Badger, wife of the Hon. George E. Badger. Aunt Clarissa, Lunsford's mother, in Mrs. Haywood's time, had charge of the dining-room, and held the keys of the pantry. The children, of whom there were four boys and five girls, knew where to go when the coveted delights of the pantry were to be unlocked. Is it strange that Aunt Clarissa was long and affectionately remembered?

B. B. Smith from whom Lunsford purchased his wife and children, kept up a correspondence with Lunsford for sometime after his removal to the North. He continued to traffic in negroes and merchandise as long as the trade was profitable. As Mr. Smith was a prominent and influential member of the Methodist Church South, Lunsford never understood how he could make his professions and his practices of a business kind consistent. Mr. Smith, when a child, had inherited a little slave,—a girl of great smartness and beauty. Lenda, on reaching womanhood, married and had one soil, Washington. Of course she loved this, her only child, as only a mother can; but the child belonged not to her. When the maternal care was no longer needed, he was, in his master's eyes, as any other marketable commodity, to be sold or bartered away. Washington was a “likely negro,” and at fifteen or twenty commanded good price. A Mr. Bunch, or Buffalo Creek, residing some twenty miles from Raleigh, was the lucky purchaser. Whether there was any sadness in the mother's heart at parting thus with her son, was a matter about which Mr. Smith cared but little. Several years had passed by, and as yet she had heard no word from her child. It length the season of the quarterly meeting came, and with it Mr. Blake, the presiding elder from the neighborhood of Buffalo Creek. One evening, during the meeting, Lunsford overheard a conversation between Mr. Blake and Lenda, the former being the guest of Mr. Smith. She sought information concerning the boy Washington. Her inquiries were satisfied to this extent,—no more. The Rev. Mr. Blake had seen Washington, and his master had declared to him that the boy Was worth “five hundred dollars!” He thought this was paying a high compliment to her son which would be most satisfying to this poor slave-mother. The incident was a slight one, but as never forgotten by Lunsford. Not a word did this Christian minister utter in in regard to the boy's moral well-being, or a consoling sentence to the mother. The last information obtained in regard to Mr. Smith speaks of his having exhausted all his property, and at length was striving to support his family upon a small salary, as town-clerk of Raleigh. This was, indeed, a very humble position for M. Smith, and we are almost inclined to look upon it as one of the compensations in that just discipline that a wise Providence administers to all his children.

Lunsford received another letter from an individual who prefers not to give his name. It is quite a spicy epistle; but inasmuch as Lunsford had neither brother nor sister, he cannot be the person referred to. If it was a trick to catch Lunsford in Cincinnati, for the purpose of his being kidnapped, it did not succeed; as he had no desire to undertake a journey to see a family with whom he had no acquaintance, and to whom he was, in no way related. The letter is as follows:—

As Lunsford never had a brother, some “One” is laboring under a misapprehension, which to this day he has had no opportunity to correct.

Many persons who have seen and conversed with Lunsford Lane have been surprised at his intelligence, his gentlemanly manners, and his fine use of language. He has never been to school a day in his life, in the sense that we understand the term, and yet, he has had considerable schooling. He was a diligent student in the school of, experience; and having endowments and faculties common to others, he made considerable progress in the acquisition of useful knowledge. He differed from others of his race more in respect to his industrious habits, and determination to better his condition, than in any other qualities. His early manhood was passed during a period peculiarly favorable at the South for the slave's advancement. That they were not slow at improving these opportunities, we may learn from several incidents taken from the reminiscences of Lunsford's history. Years before the name of abolitionist was heard in the Southern States, at least in a sense odious to slave-holders, a certain degree of freedom was allowed to slaves in their social and religious meetings; it was not the custom to require white persons to attend colored funerals; all these meetings were so many schools, where the slaves interchanged their views upon various subjects, and even debated questions affecting, their own well-being; gentlemen's servants, selected for their natural intelligence, forming, as they did, quite a large class at the South, were in the habit of attending their masters at great political gatherings and barbecues. In this way Lunsford and others heard most of the distinguished orators of the South. We are speaking now of Lunsford's experience at Raleigh, and that section of North Carolina; and the same is true of other intelligent servants who occupied a similar relation to their masters. Lunsford has a vivid remembrance of many important political gatherings and of the individuals who were prominent in these popular discussions. He has heard on frequent occasions, Calhoun, Preston of South Carolina, Badger, Stanly, Judge Gaston, Judge Ruffin, Mangum, and others.

That these intelligent slaves should be inspired with A love of liberty, as they listened to the fervent portrayal Of the superiority of American freedom over the despotism of Europe, is not at all strange. On one of these occasions, the Rev. Dr. McPhetus, of Raleigh, was called upon to make a prayer, and, after fervently thanking the Supreme Governor of all things for the privileges enjoyed and secured to us by our free institutions, he introduced the sentiment that made a deep and lasting impression upon Lunsford, “that it was impossible to enslave an intelligent people.” Lunsford pondered the words and discussed them again and again as opportunity offered, with other servants; and the more they were revolved in their minds, the more determined they became that they would be free.

About the year 1824 an incident occurred in Lunsford's experience, of a very interesting nature. It was the meeting of Lafayette at Raleigh. Lunsford acted as one of the waiters at the great dinner given in the Governor's palace. He felt it a pleasure to serve him even in this relation. Lafayette never loved slavery, white or black; and in years after this visit, when he contemplated the extent to which the institution had increased in those very States that he had with his own sword fought to make free, he felt a degree of shame which he did not hesitate to express,—shame and indignation which no language of his could adequately portray. “I would never,” said he on occasion, “have drawn my sword in the cause of America, if I could have conceived that thereby I was founding a land of slavery.” And again, while in the prison at Magdeburg, he said, “I know not what disposition has been made of my plantation at Cayenne; but I hope Madame de Lafayette will take care that the negroes who cultivate it shall preserve their liberty.”*

* O. Lafayette, grandson of General Lafayette, in a letter written as late as April 26, 1851, says, “This great question of the abolition of negro slavery, which has my entire sympathy, appears to me to have established its importance throughout the world. At the present time, the States of the Peninsula, if I do not deceive myself, are the only European powers who still continue to possess slaves; and America, while continuing to uphold slavery, feels daily, more and more, how heavily it weighs upon her destinies.”

It is not strange that Lunsford and other intelligent servants, who were present with their masters on the occasion referred to, and hearing the very language and sentiments of freedom, should have desired their liberty also. It was the custom of the colored people of Raleigh, both free and slave, to assemble every Sabbath afternoon during the pleasant weather at a famous mineral spring in the suburbs of that town. While we have no design to approve of such a custom, we shall speak of it only as a means whereby the slaves found a way for the free expression of their opinions, and for the cultivation of their minds. The hours of the afternoon beneath the pleasant shade and around the spring, were spent in the discussion of various questions; often the audience would be entertained by the speaker's giving from memory the substance of a speech he had heard at some political meeting during the week with his master. So witty became the debates of the colored people at the grove, that the white people would coma in large numbers to listen. Many masters even felt proud of the growing smartness of their slaves, and encouraged these efforts while they appeared harmless. Thus many of the smarter class of slaves learned the value of freedom, and were at length filled with an irrepressible desire to secure it even at the hazard of their lives. But these palmy days of slavery soon passed away, not because abolitionists at the North had been there to infuse among these slaves a desire for freedom, but because the pressure of slavery being for a while lifted, that innate love of freedom had a brief time to grow. The slaves themselves are the original abolitionists; the story of their wrongs has simply made us their advocates at the bar of public opinion. These meetings, everywhere in the South, were suppressed as soon as the native intelligence in the slave took the direction of a desire for freedom, and at the present day all gatherings of slaves of whatever, kind are suppressed by statute. Their religious meetings were also placed under the surveillance of white preachers. Many who had learned the value of freedom, as Lunsford did, sought in all lawful ways to obtain it; those who were unable to purchase it ran away, and penetrated even into the Northern States and into Canada; they found ears willing to listen to the story of their wrongs; that these wrongs awakened deep sympathies is not strange; that they made many abolitionists is what we should expect. The mistake committed was originally by the, masters themselves; they should not have allowed so large a liberty; the race was found far more capable of elevation than they suspected, and hence to retain them as slaves they must be kept in the profoundest ignorance.

The September number of the Atlantic Monthly contains quite an extended article upon the freedmen at Port Royal. We design to close this chapter with a brief synopsis of the article, with such remarks as our own acquaintance with the subject may suggest. Besides, the length of that contribution may prevent some from giving it as careful a perusal is it deserves. The writer speaks from a personal knowledge of what he has himself seen, during a visit to the islands, and the various schools at present in successful operation. And first, in regard to educational matters. More than thirty schools are already established in the territory, and over forty teachers are employed in the various departments, commissioned by “three associations in Boston, New York., and Philadelphia, and by the American Missionary Association.” There is an average attendance of “two thousand pupils; and more or less frequented by an additional thousand.” The writer visited ten schools, and conversed with the teachers of others. “On the twenty-fifth of March, I visited a school at the Central Baptist Church, on St. Helena Island, built in 1850, shaded by live-oak trees with the long, pendulous moss everywhere hanging from their wide-spreading branches, and surrounded by the gravestones of the former proprietors, with the over-recurring names or Fripp and Chaplin. This school was opened in September last; but many of its pupils had received some instruction before. One hundred and thirty children were present on my first visit, and one hundred and forty-five on my second, which was a few days later. This school, like most on the plantations, opened at noon, and closed at three o'clock, leaving the forenoon for the children to work in the field, or perform other service in which they could be useful. One class of twelve pupils were using Wilson's Reader and read with little spelling or hesitation. They had recited thirty pages of Town's Speller, and had made some progress in the multiplication-table. A few, among the younger, were learning the alphabet.

“They sang at the close of the school, with much spirit, appropriate hymns,— ‘My country, 'tis of thee, Sweet land of liberty.’ Also, ‘Sound the loud timbrel.’

“Also Whittier's new song, written expressly for this school, the closing stanzas of which are,— ‘The very oaks are greener clad,The water brighter smile;Oh, never shone a day so gladOn sweet St. Helen's isle!For none in all the world beforeWere ever glad as we,—We're free on Carolina's shore,We're all at home and free.’