It was not until within a few weeks that the writer was induced to visit the lonely and solitary retreat of “poor Robert,”—by the urgent solicitations of a few who had long known him, and not without hopes that he might possibly be prevailed upon to disclose some of the most extraordinary incidents of his life, for publication, if assured that he was to reap a benefit thereby (for great indeed are his present wants,) the writer was induced to visit him for this purpose. It was about 11 o'clock in the forenoon when I reached his habitation, and on removing a small rough board supported by a leathern hinge, and which closed the only passage to his dark and gloomy cell, I discovered him in about the centre, seated on a wooden block, in an apparent reverie.

I accosted him in a friendly manner, and he with much civility, bid me welcome; and as if willing to permit me to satisfy the curiosity which he no doubt supposed had alone prompted me (as it had hundreds of others) to visit him, he with much apparent good humour invited me to enter, and accept his seat, when, as he observed, I would have a better opportunity to inspect the internal part of his lonely habitation— an invitation which I accepted—and, after making known to him the true object of my visit, and with assurances that it was produced by the most urgent solicitations of one or more of his friends, who had expressed, and I believed sincerely felt an interest in his welfare, so far at least as to render his situation more comfortable—I begged that he would gratify me with a brief narration of his life, and inform me what powerful cause had arose to induce him to quit the pleasures of society, and consign his days to voluntary seclusions?—to which, after a considerable pause, and with his eyes fixed steadfast upon me, as if to satisfy himself that what I had stated was spoken in sincerity, he made the following reply—“that is a relation with which I have declined indulging anyone, as the enquiry seemed merely made to gratify idle curiosity; but, as you speak as if you could feel sympathy for distress, I will briefly gratify your request:—

“I was born in Princeton (New Jersey) in the year 1769 or '70, and was born, as was my mother (who was of African descent,) in bondage; although my father, as has been represented to me, was not only a pure white blooded Englishman, but a gentleman of considerable eminence—I had no brothers and but one sister, who was three years older than myself; but of her, as of my mother, I have but a faint recollection, as I in my infancy was included in the patrimonial portion of my master's oldest daughter, on her marriage to a Mr. JOHN VOORHIS, by birth a German. When but four years of age I was conveyed by my master to Georgetown (District of Columbia,) to which place he removed with his family, and never have I since been enabled to learn the fate of my poor mother or sister, whom, it is not very improbable, death has long since removed from their unjust servitude.

At the age of 14 or 15, my master apprenticed me to a Shoemaker, to obtain if possible a knowledge of the art; but making but little proficiency, he again took me upon his plantation, where my time was mostly employed in gardening until about the age of nineteen. It was at that age, that I became first acquainted with an agreeable young female (an orphan) by the name of ALLEY PENNINGTON, a native of Cecil county, (Maryland)—she first expressed her attachment to me, and a willingness to become my partner for life, provided I could obtain my freedom, nor can I say that I felt less attachment for one with whom I was confident I could spend my life agreeably—she was indeed the object of my first love, a love which can only be extinguished with my existence; and never at any period previous was the yoke of bondage more goarding, or did I feel so sensibly the want of that freedom, the deprivation of which, was now the only barrier to my much wished for union with one I so sincerely and tenderly loved.

As my master had uniformly expressed an unwillingness to grant me my freedom, on any other terms than receiving a suitable compensation therefor, my only alternative now to obtain it, was to apply to one with whom I was most intimately acquainted, and to whom I thought I could safely communicate my desires, as he had in more than one instance, expressed much regard for me, and a willingness to serve me—to him I proposed that he should pay to my master the stipulated sum (Fifty Pounds.) demanded for my freedom, and that the bill of sale should remain in his hands, until such time as I should be enabled by the fruits of my industry to repay him, principal and interest, and allow him suitable compensation therefor for his trouble—to this proposal he readily assented, and not only expressed his willingness but his approbation of my much desired union with my beloved ALLEY. My request was immediately complied with, the Fifty Pounds were paid by my good friend (as I then supposed him,) to whom I was by bond transfered as his lawful property, and by whom I was given to understand that I might then seek business for myself, and turn my attention to any that I should conceive the most profitable, and consider myself under no other bondage than as a debtor, to the amount paid for my freedom. The name of one who had manifested so much what I supposed real and disinterested friendship for me, but who finally proved the author of almost all the wretchedness, which I have since endured, ought not to be concealed—it was JAMES BEVENS.

Feeling myself now almost a free man, I did not, as may be supposed suffer many hours to elapse before I hastened to bear the joyful tidings of my good fortune, to one, who, as I had anticipated, received it with unfeigned demonstrations of joy; and who, so far from exhibiting an unwillingness to fullfill her promise, yielded her hand without reluctance or distrust—we were married, lawfully married, and more than three years of domestic felicity passed away, without a misfortune to ruffle our repose—in the course of which the Almighty had not only been pleased to bless us with two children, but myself with so great a share of good health, as to have enabled me by my industry, to earn and refund a very considerable portion of the fifty pounds paid by Bevins for my freedom—of these sums I had neither made any charge, or took any receipts— in this I was brought to see my error, but, alas! too late.

Bevins, as I have stated, was a man in whom I had placed implicit confidence, and indeed until the period mentioned, supposed him, as regarded myself, incapable of any thing dishonorable, much less of being the author of as great an act of cruelty and injustice, as ever was recorded in the catalogue of human depravity!

It was late one evening, an evening never to be forgotten by me, while sitting in the midst of my innocent and beloved family, amused with the prattle of my eldest child, and enjoying all the felicity which conjugal love and parental affections are productive of, that this monster in human shape (Bevins) accompanied by another, entered, seized and pinioned me! And gave me to understand that I was intended for a Southern market!! It is impossible for me to describe my feelings or those of my poor distracted wife, at that moment! It was in vain that I intreated, in vain that I represented to Bevins that he had already received a very great proportion of the sum paid for my freedom—to which the ruffian made no other reply, than pronouncing me a liar, dragged me like a felon from my peaceable domicil— from my beloved family—whose shrieks would have pierced the heart of any one but a wretch like himself!

In the most secret manner, at eleven at night, I was hurried on board a Schooner, where additional miseries awaited me!—for fear of an escape, I found irons were to be substituted for the ropes with which they had bound me! And while a person was employed in riveting them, I improved the opportunity, which I though probably would be the last, to address the author of my miseries, in words nearly as follows:—“are these the proofs, master Bevins, of the friendship which you have professed for me! Tell me I pray you, what have I done to merit such barbarous treatment from your hands? Nothing, no nothing! I have nothing wherewith to reproach myself but my own credulity!”—to this he made no reply; shackled and handcuffed, I was precipitated into the hold of the schooner, by the motion of which I perceived was soon under way, and bearing me I knew not whither! So far from feeling any inclination to sleep, it was to me a night of inconceivable wretchedness! I could here nothing but the shrieks of my poor disconsolate wife, and the moans of her helpless children! Indeed such was my imagination—alas! He alone can have a just conception of my feelings who may have been placed in similar situation, if such a person can be found on earth.

In three days (during which no other food was allowed me but a few pounds of mouldy bread) the Schooner reached the port of her destination— Charleston, S. C.—and from which, without being relieved of my irons, I was conveyed to and lodged in prison, where I was suffered to remain in solitude five days—from thence I was conducted to a place expressly appropriated to the sale of human beings! Where, like the meanest animal of the brute creation, I was disposed of at public auction to the highest bidder.

Resolved on my liberty, and that I would not let pass unimproved the first opportunity that should present, to regain it, I did not remain with my purchaser long enough to learn his name or the price paid for me; who, to win my affections, and the better to reconcile me to my situation, professed much regard for me and made many fair promises (not one of which it is probable he ever intended to perform,) and the better to deceive me, voluntarily granted me the indulgence to walk a few hours unguarded and unattended about the city, without a well authenticated pass—of this I was not ignorant, and therefore sought other and less dangerous means to escape, for I felt that death in its worst forms would be far preferable to slavery.

I carelessly strolled about the wharves among the shipping, where I at length was so fortunate as to find a Sloop bound direct to Philadelphia—she had completed her lading, her sails were loosed and every preparation made to haul immediately into the stream—watching a favourable opportunity, while the hands were employed forward, I unperceived ascended and secreted myself between two casks in the hold—all beneath was soon well secured by the hatches, and I had the satisfaction to find myself in less than three hours, from the time that I was purchased like a bale of goods at auction, stowing snugly away, and with fair prospects of regaining my liberty! It was at that moment that a secret joy diffused itself through my soul—I found unexpected consolation and fortitude, produced by a firm persuasion that by the assistance of a divine providence I should accomplish my deliverance.

Early in the morning of the fourth day from that of our departure, we were safely moored along side of one of the Philadelphia wharves. During the passage of three days and one night, my only nourishment had been about one fill of spirits, contained in a small viol, with which I occasionally moistened my lips, for on the third day my thirst had become intolerable.

I was as fortunate in leaving the sloop unsuspected or discovered, as I had been in secreting myself aboard her, and as soon as safely on shore; my first object was to procure lodgings and something to satisfy the cravings of nature, at a boarding house for seamen. Representing myself as belonging to a coaster, I was not suspected as any other than a free man. As I had heard much of the hospitality of the Quakers (or Friends,) and as a class who were zealous advocated for the emancipation of their fellow beings in bondage, to one of them, on the very day of my arrival, I made my situation known, concealing nothing; and begged that he would interest himself so far in my behalf as to advise me what I had best do, to secure my person from further by unjust claimants, and to restore to me my bereaved and afflicted family.

The good man listened with much apparent attention to my story, and seemed somewhat affected thereby, and so far from exhibiting any disposition to discredit any part of it, presented me with half a crown, and requested me to call on him in the forenoon of the next day, by which time (as he said) he would have an opportunity to consult some of his brethren, by whom he thought steps would be taken to redress my wrongs—nor have I any reason to believe that he promised more than he intended to perform, and I believe that by these good people I should have been effectually freed from the shackles of slavery, had not another melancholly instance of adverse fortune, placed me in a situation not to comply with his request. Returning to my lodgings in the evening, I was accused (jocosly, as I at first supposed) by the inmates of the house, of being a run-away slave! still however persisting in my former story, that I was free and belonged to a coaster, but being unable to reply satisfactorily to their enquiries, as to the name and place of destination of the vessel, I was committed to prison and advertized as a suspected runaway.

By what means my pretended master obtained information of my situation, I could never learn, for after nine days close confinement in prison (during which I was not permitted to communicate with any one but the goaler) I was once more strongly ironed and delivered over to the charge of the captain of a Charleston packet—to which port as it proved she was bound direct. It will not be necessary to inform you that my treatment was no better than what I had received on my late passage from Maryland—nor do I know that I could have reasonably expected any better, from those who probably considered coloured people as free from feelings as understandings. As soon as we reached Charleston, I was conducted to and delivered over to my reputed master, who had however in my absence, as it appeared, become somewhat sick of his purchase, for the Next day I was with two or three others similarly situated, exposed to sale at public auction.

The person by whom I was next purchased, was a Dr. PETER FERSUE, a man of considerable wealth, and who, had it not been obtained by the toils of his fellow creatures in bondage, might have passed for one not entirely devoid of humanity, for I must say, in justice to him, that it was remarked that those who were held in bondage by him, were treated with less severity than those possessed by some of his neighbors. Perceiving that I was not a little dissatisfied with my situation, and that I possessed a partial knowledge of letters (which I had acquired previous to my marriage) through fear probably that I might instill into the minds of some of my fellow slaves, principles, which might ultimately prove to his disadvantage, I was selected as a house servant, and consequently exempted from many of the privations to which the other slaves were exposed —yet, I became no more reconciled to my situation, nor felt any degree of attachment for him, as I could never harbour a belief but that human beings, whatever might be their complexion were all created equally free; and that it was in direct contradiction to the will of the Supreme Being, that one portion of his creatures should be held in bondage by another, for no other fault than a difference of complexion!—and, I must confess, that my bosom could not but swell with indignation, when placed in a situation to witness the severity with which many of my fellow companions in bondage, at the South, were treated—worn out by constant fatigue, clad in rags, branded with lashes, and otherways treated more like brutes than human beings!

Freedom, the gift of Heaven, was too highly prized by me to permit any thing of less importance to occupy my mind—but, great as were my desires to enjoy it, with him by whom I was wrongfully claimed, I spent eighteen months in servitude, before an opportunity presented to obtain it. The means by which I was finally enabled to effect my escape, were very similar to those which I had practiced in my last attempt—I succeeded in secreting myself in the hold of a brig ready laden, and bound direct to Boston (Massachusetts,) and without an opportunity to provide myself with a drop of water, or a morsel of food of any kind on which to subsist during the passage.

Although the place of my concealment afforded nothing better on which to repose than a water cask, yet I found my birth not so uncomfortable as one would naturally imagine, and I was enabled to endure the calls of hunger and thirst, until the close of the fifth day from that of our departure, when the latter became too oppressive to be longer endure—had I then possessed the wealth of the Indias, it appeared to me, that I should have made a willing exchange for a draught of sweet water; not however until nearly deprived of my senses, did I feel willing to make my situation known to those on board—on the reflection, that should it even cost me my life, that an instantanious death would be preferable to a lingering one, I seized a fragment of a hoop, with which I crawled to and commenced thumping upon a beam near the hatchway, at the same time hallooing as loud as the strength my lungs would admit of—soon I was heard by the hands on deck, and while some broke out in exclamations of wonder and surprize, others ran affrighted to the cabin, to proclaim to the captain the fact that “the brig was most certainly haunted, and had become the habitation of bodiless spirits, as one or more were at that moment crying out lamentably in the hold!”—bodiless spirits they no doubt concluded they must be, for the hatches being so well secured with a tarpolin, none other, as they supposed, could have obtained access.

The captain less superstitiously inclined, ordered the hatches to be immediately raised, but so great a terror of the sailors, that it was sometime before any could be found of sufficient courage to obey.

The hatches were no sooner removed than I presented myself to their view, trembling through fear, pale as death, and with hardly strength sufficient to support myself!—my appearance was indeed such as almost to confirm the superstitious opinion of the sailors, that the brig must certainly be haunted, for in me they beheld, as they supposed, naught but an apparition! The ghost, probably of some unfortunate shipmate, who on a former voyage for some trifling offence, had been privately and wickedly precipitated from the brig's deck into the ocean! —such indeed is the weakness and superstition peculiar to many of that class of people, who follow the seas for a livelihood.

Those on board became however a little less intimidated, when I assured them that I intended them no harm, and was no other than one of the most unfortunate and miserable of human beings, who had sought that means to escape from unjust and cruel bondage! And then briefly related to them, at what time and in what manner I succeeded in secreting myself unnoticed in the brig's hold; where it was my intention to have remained, if possible, until her arrival at the port of her destination—and concluded with begging them for mercy's sake, to grant me a bucket of fresh water for, indeed, such was my thirst, that a less quantity it appeared to me would have proved insufficient to have allayed it.

The captain (who very fortunately for me, proved to be a Quaker, and with all the tender feeling peculiar to that excellent class of people) gave orders to his men to treat me with kindness, and to assist me on deck, for I had now become so weak and emaciated by long fasting, that I was scarcely able to help myself. “Thy wants shall be supplied (said the good captain, addressing himself to me) but such is thy present weakness, that thee must eat and drink sparingly, or it may be worse for thee!”—this man was truly in practice, as well as by profession, a Christian—for had he been my father, he could not have treated me with more tenderness and compassion—he would not allow me but a single gill of water at a draugh, and that quantity but twice in an hour, although five times that quantity would not have satisfied me—and the food allowed me was apportioned accordingly.

In two days after we reached Boston, where I was landed, with permission of the captain to proceed whither I pleased; not however until he had imparted to me some friendly advise, to be cautious with whom I associated on shore, and as I valued my liberty, not to frequent such parts of the town as was inhabited by the most vicious and abandoned of the human race—with which he presented me with some change, and bid me farewell, and never to my knowledge have I since had the happiness to meet with this good man; who, long 'ere this has probably been numbered with the just, and if so, is now I trust reaping the reward of his good deeds in another and better world.

Unacquainted then with the laws of New-England, and fearful that it might not be safe to tarry a long while in a place so populous as Boston, before sunset of the same day I crossed the bridge leading to Charlestown, with an intention of proceeding as far east as Portland—I tarried that night at Lynn, and at about 10 o'clock the next morning reached Salem, where I concluded to remain until the morning ensuing. I applied to a boarding house for seamen for some refreshment, and bespoke lodgings for the night, and in the course of the day met with a gentleman who was in quest of hands for a voyage to India. As my small funds were now nearly exhausted, I thought this not only a favourable opportunity to replenish them, but to place myself beyond the reach of my pretended masters of the south, should they extend their pursuit of me as far east as Massachusetts—to him I therefore offered myself for the voyage, and was accepted.

It cannot be expected that I can recollect, or is it necessary for me to state every minute circumstance that attended me on this voyage, and I will only remark, that although a fresh hand, and totally unacquainted with seamanship, I succeeded in the performance of my duty beyond my expectations, and I believe not only to the satisfaction of my officers, but gained the esteem and good will of my shipmates on board—in proof of this, there is one circumstances that I ought not fail to mention—when about to cross the line, where sailors generally calculate to receive a formal visit from Neptune, the aged Monarch of the deep made his appearance as usual, and with little ceremony introduced himself on board, and while others (who had never before been honored with an interview with his majesty) were compelled to yield to the unpleasant severities of a custom prescribed by him, I was, by the intercession of my shipmates, so fortunate as to escape.

After an absence of about fourteen months, the ship returned in safety to Salem, and with the loss I believe of but one man—when discharge, my wages were punctually paid me, which amounted to a sum not only much greater than what I had ever before been in possession of, but a sum much more considerable than what I once ever expected to possess!—there was indeed as I then thought, but one thing wanting to complete my happiness (to wit.) the presence of my poor unfortunate family!—with this money, thought I, how comfortable could I render the situation of my beloved ALLEY, and my not less beloved children! Who, while I at this moment have enough and to spare, it is not improbable, if living, are enduring all the miseries that poverty and oppression are productive of!—reflections like these were sufficient to depress my spirits, and to deprive me of that enjoyment, which sailors so abundantly participate in on their return from a long voyage to their favorite port.

I remained on shore but a short time when I shipped for a second voyage to India—and, would here briefly state, without entering into particulars, that from this period of nine years, I continued to sail as a common hand from the ports of Boston and Salem, to different ports in Europe and India—in which time I never once suffered shipwreck, or met with any very serious disaster!—it is not improbable that there are at the present day, some of my old Commanders and Shipmates still living in or about Boston and Salem, who may have some recollection of “ROBERT.”

After my return from my first voyage, I became acquainted with and commenced board in the family of a respectable widow woman, who afforded decent fare, although in a very moderate circumstances—the family was composed of the old lady and three daughters, of the ages of eighteen, twenty-one and twenty-five—it was their house that I continued to “hail” as my home, whenever I returned to port, and so long as I remained on shore; and, almost destitute as I was at this time of other friends, it is not, as I deem it, very extraordinary that I should feel more than a common degree of regard and attachment for the family, and that that attachment should finally lead to greater intimacy—this was indeed the case, and on my return from my second voyage, I entered into the bands of matrimony with one of the daughters—the marriage ceremonies were performed by a Justice Putnam, of Danvers. Here, in justification of myself, for having consented to become the husband of another, when there was a possibility of my first wife being alive, I must state that there were two great inducements—one, that I was strongly urged so to do by those who undoubtedly had the authority to use compulsory means had I declined—and the other, that I had now given up all hopes and expectations of ever meeting again in this world, her, who was the first object of my pledged love.

The day after my marriage I rented a small tenament, which I gave my mother and her daughters liberty to occupy with my wife in my absence, for in three days after I was once more on my favorite element, bound to India—previous to my departure however, I made ample provision for the support of my family, and left a request with the gentleman in whose employ I sailed, to allow them a portion of my wages, in my absence, which was strictly complied with. The voyage proved as usual prosperous, and on my return was received by my friends, not only with the most lively demonstrations of joy, but with the tidings that I had in my absence, for the third time, become a father.

I remained on shore about three months, and such was the harmony that prevailed between us, and such the kind treatment that I received from my companion, that it would have been cruel to have doubted her love and affection for me. At the expiration of the three months, I once more with considerable reluctance bid her adieu, and shipped on board the Herald, capt. DERBY, bound from Boston to Canton;—on this voyage I was absent but about eighteen months, from the time that we left Boston, which was out port of entry on our return.

As soon as discharged I hastened to Salem with the fruits of my toil, and with fond expectations of being welcomed once more to my peaceful home, by one who had so repeatedly expressed her love and regard for me—but, alas, sadly was I disappointed!—for true it is, that she who I had supposed almost an angel in disposition, had in my absence been transformed to a demon! Cold indeed was the reception that I met with—so far from expressing or manifesting the least degree of joy or satisfaction on the occasion (although I had been between one and two years absent) I was insultingly told by her that “if I had never returned she would have been the last to lament it!”

The cause of this surprizing and unexpected alteration in one, whom, from the moment she became my wife, I had treated with so much regard and affection, I was never able to learn—although I did not and could not feel that ardent affection for her, as for one who was the object of my first love, yet my affection for my child was as great as that for my first born—for this I felt willing to make almost any sacrifice, could a reconciliation have been thereby effected; but it could not, and a final seperation was the consequence. I continued in Salem eight or ten months longer, supporting myself with the fruits of what I obtained by labour on board vessels, on the wharves, &c. and then, with light feet but a heavy heart, started in quest of new friends and a new home, bending my course southerly.