Reminiscences of Levi Coffin, the reputed president of the underground railroad; being a brief history of the labors of a lifetime in behalf of the slave, with the stories of numerous fugitives, who gained their freedom through his instrumentality, and many other incidents.

Author: Coffin, Levi,

Publication Date: 1876

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. GENEALOGY.

The following brief sketch of the Coffin family is gathered from the first number of the American Historical Record, published at Philadelphia, and from private records copied from those kept at Nantucket. The earliest account of the name we have dates back to 1066. In that year Sir Richard Coffin, knight, accompanied William the Conqueror from Normandy to England, and the manor of Alwington, in the county of Devonshire, was assigned to him. The authorities respecting the county of Devonshire make honorable mention of Sir Elias Coffin, knight of Clist and Ingarby, in the days of King John; of Sir Richard Coffin, of Alwington, in the time of Henry II.; of Sir Jeffrey Coffin and Combe Coffin, under Henry III., and of other knights, descendants of these, until the time of Henry VIII., when we find Sir William Coffin, sheriff of Devonshire, highly preferred at Court, and one of eighteen assistants chosen by the king to accompany him to a tournament in France, in 15I9. He was also high steward of the manor and liberties of Standon, in Hertford. By his will he bequeathed his horses and hawks to the king, and devised the manor of East Higgington, Devonshire, to his nephew, Sir Richard Coffin, of Portledge. His monument in  Standon Church is mentioned in Weever's " Funeral Monuments," at page534.

Nicholas Coffin, of Butler's parish, in Devonshire, died in I603. His will, which was proved at Totness, in Devonshire, November 3, 1603, mentions his wife and five children, viz: Peter, Nicholas, Tristram, John and Anne. Peter married Joanna Thimber, and died in 1627, leaving four daughters and two sons. One of these sons was the famous Tristram Coffin-or Coffyn, as he spelled it-the ancestor of the numerous families of that name in this country. Nearly all his descendants are enabled, by means of the accurate genealogical records in existence, to trace their lineage back to him, although nearly two centuries have elapsed since his death. He was born at Brixton, near Plymouth, in the county of Devonshire, England, in the year 1605. He married Dionis Stevens, and in 1642 came to New England, bringing with him his wife and five children, his mother and his two sisters. He first settled at Salisbury, Massachusetts, where he lived a number of years, and in 1660 removed, with his family, and settled upon the island of Nantucket. He was one of a company of nine who first purchased Nantucket from the Indians, which fact appears in a conveyance from the Sachems, Wanackmamack, and Nickanoose. Prior to this purchase from the natives, the English title to the greater portion of the island had been obtained from Thomas Mayhew, who held the same under a conveyance from Lord Stirling. Tristram Coffin and his sons at one time owned about one fourth of Nantucket, and the whole of the little island

adjacent to it on the west, called Tuckernuck, containing one thousand acres, which was purchased of the old sachem, Potconet. He appears to have been a leading spirit among the first settlers, and was frequently selected by the inhabitants to transact important public business.
The children of Tristram Coffin were Peter, Tristram, Elizabeth, James, John and Stephen. We trace our line of the family from John. He married Deborah Austin; their son Samuel married Miriam Gardner; their son William married Priscilla Paddock; their son Levi married Prudence Williams. These last were my parents, and this places me in the fifth generation from the first Tristram Coffin, of Nantucket. The different branches of Tristram Coffin's family have increased and scattered, until there are representatives in nearly every part of the United States.
The island of Nantucket being small, and its soil not very productive, a large number of people could not be supported thereon, and as the population increased, a number of the men engaged in the whale fishery and other maritime pursuits, in order to gain a livelihood. Others turned their attention to other parts of the country, and were induced to remove and settle elsewhere, with a view to better their condition, as to providing for their children, etc. Awhile before the Revolutionary War a considerable colony of Friends removed and settled at New Garden, in Guilford County, North Carolina, which was then a newly settled country. My grandfather, William Coffin, was among those who thus emigrated. His removal

took place in the year 1773. My grandparents, William and Priscilla Coffin, had ten children-eight sons and two daughters-all of whom lived to have families of their own. They settled at New Garden, North Carolina, and were all members of the religious Society of Friends. My father, Levi Coffin, was the youngest of eight sons and next to the youngest child. He was born on the island of Nantucket, 10th month, 10th, 1763, and was about ten years old when the family moved to North Carolina. My grandfather Coffin lived to be eighty-three, and my grandmother eighty-one years old. Both died in the year 1803, at the place where they first settled in North Carolina. I remember them well, though I was young at the time of their death. Both were valuable elders in the religious Society of Friends, and were highly esteemed in the community. Their house had long been a resort and a place of entertainment for Friends who came into the neighborhood to attend religious meetings, and for traveling ministers. They lived on a farm, a short distance from New Garden Meeting-House. My father was brought up as a farmer, but managed to get a fair education, considering the limited advantages at that day, and, when a young man, engaged during the winter season in teaching school in the neighborhood. After the marriage of my parents, they settled on a farm in the neighborhood of New Garden, and I was brought up as a farmer, until I reached my twenty-first year. My parents had seven children. I was the only son and next to the youngest child. I could not well be spared from the farm to attend school,

and the most of my education I obtained at home. My father took pains to instruct me and my sisters during his hours of leisure from out-door work, so that I kept about even with my associates in the neighborhood who had better opportunities for gaining an education, and during, the short intervals that I attended school, I was classed with them, and often stood at the head of my class. But our schools then were very inferior, compared with those at the present. I thirsted for a better education, and as soon as I was of age I sought a better school than we had in our neighborhood.
I remained there one session, then engaged as assistant teacher during the winter session, and the following winter attended another good school. I then taught, at intervals, for several years. In the year I8i6 my sister Sarah died. She was in her twentieth year and two years my senior. This was a heavy stroke upon me. She was a kind and affectionate sister, and we had been inseparable companions in our childhood. Although she died rejoicing in her dear Redeemer, with a bright and glorious prospect before her, I could not for a long time be resigned sufficiently to say concerning her loss, "Thy will, O Lord, not mine, be done." My older sisters were married, and I and my youngest sister Priscilla were all that were left at home with our parents. Priscilla was three years my junior. She was a sweet and attractive child, and we were warmly attached to each other. When she was about twelve years old she was converted, and at the age of fifteen she appeared in public testimony. She appeared to have 7

a remarkable gift in the ministry, and her words impressed all who heard her and touched the hearts of many. Her mission and labors for several years seemed to be mostly confined to family circles and to social gatherings of young people. On such occasions she was frequently prompted to speak in a most remarkable manner, and her words seemed to have great effect on her young associates and others who heard her. For some years after her first appearance in the ministry, she spoke but seldom in public assemblies, but when she did, it was to the edification of her hearers. A few years afterward she was recorded as a minister of the religious Society of Friends.
In the spring of I825 my parents and sister moved to the State of Indiana, where my married sisters had all located. I was then engaged in teaching, but expected soon to follow with my own little family, which I did the next year. My sister Priscilla married a short time before I removed to Indiana. My parents were now left alone, and being old and feeble, I took charge of them and located them near me, in the village of Newport. My father died in I833, in his seventieth year. We then took my mother into our house and cared for her until the close of her life. She died in I845, in her eighty-eighth year.
My mother's family, the Williamses, were of Welsh extraction. I have understood that my great-grandfather, George Williams, came from Wales to America, and settled in Prince George County, Maryland. My grandfather, Richard Williams, married Prudence Bales, and their oldest two children were born  

in Maryland. Afterward they emigrated to North Carolina and settled in Guilford County, about the year I752. They located near the place where the old New Garden Meeting-House now stands, and where the yearly meeting of the religious Society of Friends has been held for many years. At the time of their removal to that neighborhood, it was thinly settled, but it grew in time to be a large and prosperous settlement, the members of which were mostly Friends. My grandparents had many hardships to encounter and privations to undergo, such as the first settlers of a new country always have to experience. When the stock of provisions which they had brought with them gave out, they had to go to an older settlement, about fifty miles distant, to get a new supply. The first winter they cleared a small piece of land, and in the spring planted corn and garden seed. Provisions again became scant, and they had to live on roasting-ears and vegetables till the corn ripened, being entirely deprived of bread. As soon as the corn was ripe enough to shell, they dried it by spreading it on the ground in the sun, and then took it on horseback to a mill about thirty miles distant, on Cane Creek, now in Chatham County. My grandfather Williams donated the ground on which New Garden Meeting House was built, besides several acres of land, covered with timber sufficient for all building purposes. The battle of Guilford Court-House, fought about the close of the Revolutionary War, commenced near New Garden Meeting-House and continued along the old Salisbury road, a distance of about

three miles, to Martinsville, the old Guilford Court House, near where the main battle was fought. A number of soldiers were killed near the meetinghouse and along the road, and were buried by the roadside and in the Friends' burying ground near the meeting-house. I have often seen their graves. After the battle the meeting-house was used as a hospital for the wounded soldiers, and my grandfather Williams' house was occupied by the wounded British officers. My grandfather Coffin's house was used by the American officers as a hospital for their sick and wounded. The two farms joined, and the headquarters of the different forces were thus in close proximity.
The small-pox broke out among the British officers, and my grandfather Williams caught the disease from them and died. My grandmother was left with twelve children, five sons and seven daughters. She was sister to Thomas Bales, who is said to have been the first white emigrant that settled in Ohio. At his death he was buried in a coffin dug out of a log, there being no dressed timber available and no sawmill within hundreds of miles. His descendants are quite numerous in the Western States. My grandmother remained a widow for the rest of her life. She lived

to a good old age, and died respected by all who knew her. She was an elder in the religious Society of Friends for many years, and was highly esteemed as a "Mother in Israel." The date of her death and her age are not in my possession, but I can remember her well. Most of her children lived to a good old age, and, with the exception of one son, all had large families, so that my connections, on my mother's side, as well as on my father's, are quite numerous. Both my parents and grandparents were opposed to slavery, and none of either of the families ever owned slaves; and all were friends of the oppressed, so I claim that I inherited my anti-slavery principles.

CHAPTER VIII.

        For several years my mind had been deeply impressed with the inconsistency of abolitionists partaking indiscriminately of the unpaid toil of the slave. I thought that to be consistent in bearing testimony against slavery, we should discourage unpaid labor and encourage paid labor as far as practicable. I knew, however, that it would be very difficult to abstain entirely from the products of slave labor. I was then engaged in mercantile business--retailing dry-goods and groceries, a large portion of which was produced by slave labor, and I knew of no facilities for obtaining free-labor goods. I had heard Charles Osborne, a worthy minister of the Society of Friends, express his sentiments on the subject, and they made a deep impression on my mind. Charles Osborne had long been a consistent and thorough abolitionist, and was

the editor of the first anti-slavery paper published in America--so far as I have any knowledge--which advocated immediate and unconditional emancipation. The paper was called the Philanthropist, and was published at Mount Pleasant, Ohio, in 1816. The statement that this was the first paper favoring immediate and unconditional emancipation may be called in question by some, as the Genius of Universal Emancipation, published by Benjamin Lundy, in East Tennessee, has long had the credit of being the first. But I know that the statement I make is correct. Benjamin Lundy was a journeyman printer under Charles Osborne, in Mount Pleasant, and went from that office to East Tennessee. He was accompanied by Charles Osborne's son Isaiah, who aided him in printing the Genius of Universal Emancipation. The Philanthropist was also the first paper ever published in the United States, which promulgated the doctrine of the impropriety of using the products of slavery.

        In a printed address to the Society of Friends, written many years after his removal to the State of Indiana, Charles Osborne makes the following remarks: "On whom has the mantle of Woolman fallen? We have approved and admired his course on the subject of slavery for more than half a century, but with a few exceptions we have halted and stumbled at the most essential part of his Christian testimony: that of abstaining from the gains of oppression." This subject was discussed by prominent abolitionists of Ohio and Indiana, and a paper called the Free Labor Advocate was established at

Newport, Indiana. It was edited by Benjamin Stanton, and the subject of free labor was ably advocated in its columns.

        About the year 1844 I became so strongly impressed with the horrors of slavery, and its results, which were ever before me, that I was led to reflect more deeply on the subject than I had done before, and to view it in all its practical bearings. I read the testimony of John Woolman and other writers, and became convinced that it was wrong to use the product of slave labor. I felt that it was inconsistent to condemn slaveholders for withholding from their fellow-men their just, natural and God-given rights, and then, by purchasing the fruits of the labor of their slaves, give them the strongest motive for continuing their wickedness and oppression. Knowing so well the sad realities of life on the Southern plantations, I felt that in purchasing and using cloth made from cotton, grown by slaves, I made use of a product which had been planted by an oppressed laborer, fanned by sighs, watered with tears, and perhaps dressed with the blood of the victim. The words of John Woolman found an echo in my heart: "Seed sown with the tears of a confined, oppressed people--harvests cut down by an overborne, discontented reaper, make bread less sweet to the taste of an honest man, than that which is the produce or just reward of such voluntary action as is a proper part of the business of human creatures."

        The free States furnished a good market for the products of the South, and made slave labor valuable to the master. If it had not been so, then

John Randolph's prophecy would have been fulfilled--the slave would not have run away from his master, but the master from his slaves, for they would have been a burden and expense to him. The object of the slaveholder was to make money by selling the cotton, sugar, etc., produced by his slaves, and without a market for these he would have been deprived of the great motive for holding the negroes in bondage. Northern consumers, by their demand for articles thus produced, stimulated the system by which they were produced, and furnished the strongest incentive for its continuance.

        I felt by purchasing the products of slave labor, I was lending my individual encouragement to the system by which, in order to get their labor without wages, the slaves were robbed of everything else. In the language of Charles Stuart: "Their bodies are stolen, their liberty, their right to their wives and children, their right to cultivate their minds and to worship God as they please, their reputation, hope, all virtuous motives, are taken away by a legalized system of most merciless and consummate iniquity. Such is the expense at which articles produced by slave labor are attained. They are always heavy with the groans and often met with the blood of the guiltless and suffering poor." "If our moral sense would revolt at holding a slave ourselves and using his unpaid labor, it should also revolt at using his unpaid toil when held by another."

        With these strong convictions, I determined, as a matter of conscience, to abstain so far as I could from the products of slavery, and in my business to

buy and sell, so far as possible, only the products of free labor. I had learned that there had been associations formed at Philadelphia and New York, which were manufacturing goods of free-labor cotton, and that they had obtained free-labor groceries from the British West Indies, and other countries, where slavery did not exist. I decided to go to Philadelphia and New York, and ascertain how the business of these associations was managed -- whether it was a mere speculation to make money or was conducted on conscientious principles, and whether the goods purchased were really the products of free-labor. When I arrived at Philadelphia and made inquiries, I found that the business was conducted by such men as Enoch Lewis, Abraham L. Pennock, Samuel Rhodes, George W. Taylor, James Mott, James Miller McKim, Charles Wise, etc. These were all prominent abolitionists, and well known as conscientious men of high reputations; many of them were leading members of the religious Society of Friends. They had erected a cotton factory, which was conducted by George W. Taylor. I found that instead of making money at it, they were carrying on the business at a heavy sacrifice, being actuated solely by conscientious principles. The cotton they were manufacturing was obtained from Friends' settlements in North Carolina. I was personally acquainted with their agents in that State who obtained it for them, and knew them to be reliable men. After becoming fully satisfied that there was no deception, that from the field to the factory the cotton could be relied

upon as the product of free labor, I purchased as good an assortment of cotton goods as I could obtain. The assortment was not extensive; in prints particularly it was quite limited. The goods were mostly staple articles that afforded little profit.

        I next went to New York, and found the business there conducted by such men as Robert Lindley Murray, Lindley M. Hoag, and other equally reliable and conscientious men. They dealt mostly in free-labor groceries, West-India sugar, molasses, coffee, etc., and had arrangements for obtaining free-labor rice, indigo, and other articles. They also kept Laguira, Mocha, and other coffee, the product of free labor. Here I purchased my groceries, though at a higher price than I had been accustomed to pay for slave products. The assortment of free-labor goods obtainable was so limited and the prices of so many articles higher, that I knew my profits would be curtailed, and I would lose many of my customers. In addition to the heavy pecuniary sacrifice I would sustain, I expected to meet with opposition and ridicule, though I knew that the free-labor subject had taken deep hold of the minds of many abolitionists in my own and other neighborhoods, and that many who desired to bear a faithful testimony against slavery wished to get a supply of the products of free labor.

        Cotton yarn was then much used among the farmers in the West in making jeans, linseys, etc., for their own wear. This article I could not obtain from the Philadelphia cotton mills, as they only made warp for their own manufactures. To obviate this

difficulty, I purchased a bale of their free-labor cotton and shipped it to Indiana, and prevailed on a Friend, who owned a small cotton mill near Richmond, to clear his machinery of other cotton, and make this bale into warp for me. I obtained, afterward, a larger supply of cotton, and visited the cotton mills at Dayton and Hamilton, hoping to get it manufactured separately. I at first met with difficulties, for the proprietors were not willing to clear out their machinery, but the foreman of one of the mills at Hamilton was an abolitionist, who felt an interest in promoting the cause, and he agreed to do the work for me, though it entailed additional labor.

        Beside the many obstacles I had to encounter in obeying the dictates of my conscience on this subject, I had to contend with innumerable discouragements, and to endure much ridicule. I had to meet the arguments of the pro-slavery party, but I also had the support of many warm friends, who harmonized with me and encouraged me in the work, and who were willing, at any sacrifice, to abstain from the use of slave-labor products. In my own neighborhood such prominent men of our society as Daniel Puckett, Benjamin Thomas, Samuel Charles, Jonathan Hough, Dr. Henry H Way, Benjamin Stanton, and many others, were warm advocates of free labor, and in other neighborhoods I had many true friends, such as William Beard, Jacob Grave, Daniel Worth, and others.

        My custom was confined measurably to abolitionists, and the supply of free-labor goods that could

be obtained was inadequate to meet the demand. Better facilities for supplying the demand were much needed. The free-labor subject had been agitated in various communities of anti-slavery people, and by this time the principles involved in it had become widely known and had been adopted by many in various parts of the Western States. In Ohio and Indiana conventions were held for the purpose of devising some plan whereby free-labor goods could be supplied to all who desired to use them.

        In Ohio, such men as Thomas Morris, Samuel Lewis, Dr. William H. Brisbane, Dr. G. Bailey, and John Joliff, had taken an interest in the subject. Several plans were suggested, but as no suitable person could be found to carry them out they were abandoned.

        In the autumn of 1846, a union convention of those interested in the subject of free labor was held in Friends' Meeting-House at Salem, Union County, Indiana. It was largely attended by prominent men of Ohio and Indiana. From Cincinnati came Dr. Brisbane, John Joliff, Edward Harwood, Thomas Franklin, and others.

        The convention held two days and during that time the subject was ably discussed. A resolution was passed to raise a fund of thee thousand dollars to be loaned for five years, without interest, to some suitable person for the purpose of enabling him to open a wholesale depository of free-labor goods at Cincinnati. A committee was appointed to select the person, and to report his name to the convention

the next day. The committee made choice of me and reported my name to the meeting. The resolution appointing me to the position was carried by acclamation, but I could not give my consent to accept the position. I thought it would prove too great a sacrifice to me to "pull up stakes" and move to Cincinnati. I had lived in Newport twenty years, and was much attached to my house and to my friends and acquaintances there. A few years before I had built a dwelling-house, taking much pains to make it comfortable and convenient in all its appointments, with the expectation of occupying it as long as I lived. Neither I nor my wife thought that we would like city life, so notwithstanding the deep interest I felt in the concern, I declined to accept the position.

        The committee was continued for the purpose of finding some suitable person who would undertake to carry out the proposed plan, and individuals of different neighborhoods were appointed to raise the fund of three thousand dollars, by soliciting subscriptions from those who were interested in the subject. But the committee did not succeed in finding a suitable person to undertake the business, and again applied to me and urged me strongly to go to Cincinnati and open the desired depository.

        During the winter I received many letters from different parts of the country soliciting me to engage in the proposed business. I was thought to be the most suitable person to engage in such an undertaking as I had already had several years' experience in dealing in free-labor goods at Newport. I finally

consented to go to Cincinnati for five years, and try the experiment. I sold out my business at Newport, rented my house and moved to Cincinnati the twenty-second day of April, 1847, having previously rented a store and dwelling-house in the city.

        We fully expected to return to our home in Newport at the expiration of five years, or sooner, hoping that some suitable person would be found to take the business off my hands and continue it. I went to Philadelphia and New York that spring and purchased as good an assortment of free-labor cotton goods and groceries as could be obtained. The demand for such articles was increasing, and the Philadelphia Association had enlarged their business and were furnishing a better supply of cotton goods. Beside selling their own manufactures, they were obtaining from England a finer quality of cotton goods than their own mills furnished. The English goods were manufactured at Manchester under the auspices of a free-labor association, and could be relied upon as being the product of free labor.

        I opened the store in Cincinnati and sent out printed circulars, which were widely circulated by friends of the enterprise. Orders from various parts of the West soon began to come in--far exceeding my meager assortment of cotton goods. I had not been able to obtain a sufficient supply of brown muslins, sheeting, cotton yarn, carpet warp, etc. This difficulty I knew might be remedied if I could obtain a supply of cotton, for there were several cotton mills in this vicinity that manufactured yarn, wicking, twine, batting, etc. Having been reared

in the South and having acquaintances in nearly all the cotton-growing States, I knew that there were many settlements there of the poorer class of farmers who owned no slaves and hired none, part of them doing this from principle, part of them because they were too poor to do otherwise. These small farmers generally raised from one to ten bales of cotton for market; a few raised larger quantities. I learned through correspondence that a good supply of free-labor cotton could be obtained from this class of people, and resolved to avail myself of the opportunity thus afforded. The previous winter, Nathan Thomas, a worthy member of the Society of Friends, who lived near Newport, Indiana, had gone with his wife to spend the winter with some of her relatives living near Holly Springs, Mississippi. Pleasant Diggs, the uncle of Nathan Thomas' wife, with whom they spent most of the time, had been reared in a neighborhood of Friends and was opposed to slavery. He owned no slaves and hired none, and the cotton which he raised was the product of free labor. Knowing Nathan Thomas to be interested in the free-labor cause, I requested him to ascertain if cotton could be obtained in that part of the State, which could be relied upon to be clear of slave labor. He wrote me that a large quantity was raised by free labor, but that it had all been ginned and baled by slave labor, as none of the farmers in that neighborhood owned a cotton gin. He added that he knew of other neighborhoods, in that county, where free-labor cotton was raised.

        I corresponded with Samuel Rhodes, of Philadelphia,

concerning the information I had received from Nathan Thomas, and informed him that William McCray, who lived near Holly Springs, Mississippi, a son-in-law of Pleasant Diggs, made about thirty bales of cotton annually, cultivated entirely by free labor, and that he was willing to put up a gin and gin his own and his neighbors' cotton by free labor, if we would furnish him the gin and allow him to pay for it in cotton.

        I suggested that the Philadelphia Association should join me in this enterprise, for I believed they could obtain a larger supply and a better quality of cotton than they got from North Carolina, and perhaps at less cost. The subject was brought before the board, and an agreement was at once made. I was authorized to purchase a cotton gin and ship it to William McCray, of Mississippi. I at once applied to James Pierce, of Cincinnati, who manufactured cotton gins for the South, and purchased an excellent thirty-saw gin for $300, and shipped it immediately that it might be put up at once, and be ready for use in the fall.

        The Philadelphia Association authorized me to employ Nathan Thomas as our agent to go South, next winter, to see that all the arrangements made with the cotton planters were strictly carried out. The second winter that Nathan Thomas spent in the South, he was authorized by the Philadelphia Free-Labor Association to travel through the different Southwestern States, and hunt out the settlements of small farmers and ascertain what quantity of free-labor cotton could be obtained. He traveled

through parts of Mississippi, Tennessee, Louisiana, Texas and Arkansas, and gave the information he obtained in a series of letters, which were afterward published by the managers of the Free-Labor Association of Ohio Yearly Meeting.

        The gin I shipped to William McCray proved to be an excellent one, and was known in that part of the country as the "Abolition Gin." Arrangements were made to purchase all the free-labor cotton in reach of that gin, and other arrangements were made by which it could be hauled to Memphis--the nearest shipping point free of slave labor. At Memphis it was to be delivered to a commission merchant, formerly of Philadelphia, who employed no slave labor, and who was recommended by Samuel Rhodes, and others, as a reliable man. This merchant shipped the cotton up the river by boats that employed no slaves. By these means large quantities of free cotton were sent from the South, and we obtained a full supply. The Philadelphia Association was enabled to ship cotton to the Manchester mills in England in exchange for a finer class of goods than they were making, and I was supplied with all the cotton I could purchase, for manufacturing at Cincinnati. I had made arrangements with Gould, Pearce & Co, of Cincinnati, to spin cotton yarn, carpet warp, twine and candle wicking, and with Stearns & Foster to make batting and wadding from the cotton which I furnished. Afterward, I induced Gould, Pearce & Co. to put up looms and make brown muslin for me, in addition to the other articles.

        When these arrangements were completed and the work in operation, I furnished the Philadelphia and New York Associations with heavy brown muslins, cotton yarn, carpet warp, twine, wicking, batting and wadding in exchange for their goods, for several years. I was authorized by the Philadelphia Association to employ Nathan Thomas to spend the third winter in the South to superintend the cotton business--to see that all the arrangements were carried out, and to engage the next year's crop of cotton in various localities. In engaging cotton, Nathan Thomas always promised to give the market price and no more, thus affording no advantage to the producer which would prove a motive for deception. Suitable persons were appointed agents in the different neighborhoods to receive the cotton and pay for it, and the producers were thus saved the trouble and expense of hauling it to a distant market. We also had arrangements for shipping from Hamburg and Eastport, on the Tennessee River.

        The next year I traveled over part of the same ground, visiting free-labor neighborhoods in Hardin and McNairy Counties, Tennessee, and Tishomingo County, Mississippi. I found quite a number of settlers from Guilford County, North Carolina, and being acquainted with some of their relatives in that locality, I was kindly received and made welcome among them. I talked freely on the subject of slavery, explaining Friends' principles and testimony in regard to slavery and war, and dealing in or unnecessarily using intoxicating liquors. Strong

drink seemed to be much in use in that part of the country. I also explained the feelings and views of many Friends and other conscientious people in the North in regard to the use of the unpaid toil of the slave. I talked freely with many slaveholders on these subjects, and was kindly treated by them. Many of them understood something of the principles of Quakers regarding slavery, and discovering from my dress and language that I was a Quaker, they seemed disposed to talk freely and asked many questions.

        I explained our principles to them as well as I could, and said that we bore a testimony against slavery in our Discipline, and that no person could be a member of our society who owned a slave. I told them that I was a Southern man, having been born and brought up in North Carolina, in the midst of slavery, and was well acquainted with the system. I was and always had been opposed to slavery, but it was no part of my business, in the South, to interfere with their laws or their slaves. I was attending to my own affairs, and did not intend to busy myself with other matters.

        I had shipped to Eastport, Mississippi, and Hamburg, Tennessee--the points from which our cotton was shipped North--a quantity of flour, cheese and other produce. The boat on board which I had shipped these articles was one of the best on the Tennessee River, and as it was a popular boat for travelers, we took on a number of passengers at different points. They were all Southerners, from various places in Tennessee, Mississippi and Alabama,

and most of them were merchants who had been to Louisville to replenish their stock of goods. The majority of them were slaveholders, but they appeared to be a very civil and gentlemanly set of men. Several of them seemed disposed to make my acquaintance and to find out who and what I was, whence I came and whither I was going. I was aware that Northern men were watched with jealous eyes in the South.

        I made myself sociable with the passengers, and when they learned that I was from Cincinnati, and had a large cargo of produce on board which I was shipping to Eastport and other points to sell or exchange for cotton, and that I was brought up in the South, and had many relatives and acquaintances there, their jealous suspicions seemed to be entirely removed and they treated me with much respect. Different ones politely invited me to drink with them, according to the fashion prevalent in the South, but I declined, saying that I was a temperance man and used no liquor, except as medicine.

        In the course of our journey I talked freely on the subject of slavery, speaking of its evil influences and my conscientious convictions in regard to it. On one occasion I got into a warm debate with one of the passengers by the name of Bell. He was a merchant of Farmington, Mississippi, and a member of the Legislature of that State.

        I had given him and several others my business card, which bore my name and the words, "Commission merchant and dealer in free-labor cotton goods and groceries." He asked me what "Free-labor

cotton goods" meant. I told him it meant just what it said--goods produced by free labor, and went on to say that I dealt exclusively in such goods, and was then on my way South to collect free-labor cotton.

        He became excited and angry, and began to ask questions. I explained to him calmly the whole free-labor subject, speaking of the class of men in the free States who were interested in it, and my own conscientious convictions that induced me to engage in the work. I told him that many of our best citizens, both East and West, who believed that slavery was wrong and who felt for those in bonds as bound with them, had come to the conclusion that they could not consistently partake of the unpaid labor of the slave, and that this feeling was largely on the increase. This brought up the whole subject of slavery. Bell advocated it excitedly, and said that he would not live in a free State, that the blacks were made to serve and the whites to govern, etc., and went on to give the usual pro-slavery arguments.

        Most of the passengers had gathered round us by this time to hear the debate. I spoke of the evils of slavery, of its horrors and cruelties, many of which I had witnessed myself while living in the South--the separation of husbands and wives, parents and children, etc. I dwelt largely upon the deleterious effects of slavery on the white population of the South, the disregard of marriage bonds, the license which slavery afforded, etc. I referred to several instances which had come under

my notice in North Carolina, where men of high political and social standing had lived with their slave women and reared families of mulatto children. I said that I had always been opposed to amalgamation, which was the direct result of slavery. I referred to the slaves of mixed blood whom we saw in every part of the South, and spoke of the common practice of fathers selling their own children. I then gave him an instance which came under my personal observation. A planter of Mississippi, named William Thompson, had come to Cincinnati a few years before, bringing with him fourteen of his slaves, all his own children and grandchildren, and the slave woman with whom he had lived, the mother of his children. He had sold one of his cotton farms, and wished to buy land in a free State and settle his children where they would be safe after his death. He was referred to me for advice regarding a suitable place to locate, and I directed him to a colored settlement in Darke County, Ohio, where land could be bought at a reasonable price, and where his children could have the benefit of a good school. He went to that locality, bought a farm and saw his people comfortably settled.

        He then returned to Mississippi, and the next year sold his other farm and brought another company of slaves to Ohio, among whom was a middle-aged colored woman, with five or six yellow children, whom he acknowledged to be his own. He bought land for this party, and lived among them. Thompson claimed to be a member of the Baptist

Church. This, I said, is the state of morals which slavery produces.

        I then referred Bell to another instance in his own State. Major William Phillips, a wealthy cotton planter, who lived near Yazoo City, Mississippi, was a gentleman of high social standing, and was for some years a member of the legislature. His white children were grown and settled in homes of their own when he lost his wife. He married a second wife, lived with her a few years, then separated from her, giving her a farm and a few negroes. He then took one of his own slaves, a young mulatto woman, and kept her as his wife. He had several children by her, and concluding that he wanted them to be free, he sold his plantation and one hundred and thirty of his slaves, and brought his slave woman and her children to Cincinnati. He purchased a valuable piece of property on Broadway, where he now lives, professing to keep the mulatto woman as a hired servant. His children attend school, which they would not be allowed to do in your State. I have been told that two of his sons, who live in the South, have followed their father's example and keep slave women for wives.

        By this time my friend Bell had become quite calm, and did not attempt to contradict my statements. An old gentleman from Alabama, a slave-holder, who sat near by, spoke several times during the debate, confirming my statements in regard to the evils of slavery. The company that had gathered round seemed to listen to the conversation with interest. I endeavored to speak with moderation,

maintaining at the same time my independence and my right as an American citizen to express my conscientious convictions.

        The gentleman from Alabama said that he believed slavery was a curse to the South, and that he would be willing to give up his slaves at any time if they could be properly provided for.

        After this discussion, Bell became very sociable, and finding that I expected to travel in his county, he invited me to call and see him, offering me the hospitality of his home. I told him that if I should be in his neighborhood I would accept his invitation.

        At Hamburg, Tennessee, I stored a part of my produce with William Campbell, a merchant, and went on to Eastport, thirty miles farther, where I discharged the rest of my freight. The next day I returned to Hamburg, and stopped at a tavern in that village. On the Sabbath I inquired if there was any church in the place, and was directed to a Methodist church, in the edge of the town, where there was to be preaching that day. I found the meeting-house to be a log cabin, with nothing to fill the cracks between the logs. The congregation consisted of eight or ten white people, half a dozen negroes, and several dogs. The men all chewed tobacco and spit on the floor, the women dipped snuff, and the dogs quarreled and fought with each other. The sermon was good, but no one seemed impressed by it except an old negro woman, who sobbed aloud and rocked herself to and fro. After meeting, the minister invited me to go home with

him and spend the night. He lived four miles on the road I had to travel the next day, so I accepted his kind invitation. I inquired of the landlord where I could procure a horse to use a week or two, and he said I could have one of his. I asked him if he was not afraid to trust a stranger, and he replied: "I am not afraid to trust a Quaker." I thanked him for his kind offer, but thought he might be deceived by wolves in sheep's clothing.

        I went home with the preacher, and spent the night at his house very pleasantly. He owned no slaves, and said that he had always been opposed to slavery, although he had been reared in the South. Some of his neighbors were slaveholders, and that night when we were talking on the subject of slavery, he lowered his voice, and spoke in a subdued tone. I asked him why he did so, and he replied:

        "You are a stranger here, and we do not know who may be eavesdropping and listening to our conversation." The night was dark and rainy, and a person might have listened under the window without being discovered.

        I told my friend that I would not live in a country where I could not talk freely and speak above my breath in my own house. The next day the preacher kindly accompanied me to a neighborhood of non-slaveholders, where Nathan Thomas had engaged free-labor cotton. We went to Lemuel Lancer's, who owned a cotton gin worked by free labor, and who acted as agent for us in purchasing cotton from those of his neighbors who owned no slaves. I

spent a few days pleasantly at this place, then visited other neighborhoods of free-labor farmers in Hardin and McNairy counties, Tennessee. I then went into Tishomingo County, Mississippi, and finding myself in Farmington, I called on my friend Bell, at his store. He received me cordially, and invited me to spend some time with him, but as I wished to reach another neighborhood that afternoon I declined his invitation.

        He introduced me to several merchants of the place, and as it seemed to be a leisure hour, we seated ourselves in the shade near Bell's store and entered into conversation. One old gentleman named Jones asked me many questions about the Quakers, saying he had read some of their writings and thought he should like to live among them. Bell had introduced me as a merchant from Cincinnati, and the conversation turned on that place and business matters there. He said he thought provisions and goods might be bought on better terms in Cincinnati than in Louisville, where their merchants usually went to buy their stock. One of the merchants said the reason he did not go to Cincinnati to buy goods was because he understood there were so many free negroes there that a gentleman could not walk the street without being insulted by them. I told him that I had lived there several years and had never been insulted by a colored person; as a general thing the colored people were very civil.

        Another man said that he understood we were amalgamated in Cincinnati, mixed up with the

negroes--that white men had colored wives, etc. I replied that we had a great many people of mixed blood in Cincinnati, but that they all came from the South. This caused a laugh, and I went on to say, I knew of no case of amalgamation occurring in Ohio, but I knew many instances of white men bringing their yellow children from the South to our State to be set free, and I knew of two or three cases of white men having colored wives. About a year ago two good-looking young white men from this State came to Cincinnati, bringing with them mulatto women, whom they claimed as wives. They wished to purchase land and settle in Ohio, and having been referred to me for advice respecting a suitable locality, they called on me. I went with them to the place where they were stopping--the Dumas House, a hotel for colored people, kept by a colored man--to see their families. One of the women had three children; the other was younger and was finely dressed and decked with jewelry. I asked the husband of the latter if this was his wife? He answered in the affirmative. I then turned to the other man and asked him if the elder woman was his wife, and if those three children were his? He answered, "Yes." I then asked the men if they were legally married to these women? They said they were not; that the women were slaves, and according to law in Mississippi the marriage of slaves was not legal. Well, I said, it is not legal for you to live this way in Ohio. The law of our State will not permit it. If you intend to keep these women as your wives, you must be legally married. A

few days afterward the men obtained license and were legally married to the colored women. Such cases as these, I continued, are all that I know of in Cincinnati. We of the North are opposed to amalgamation.

        One of the merchants present said that he had heard that if fugitive slaves reach Ohio, the abolitionists would harbor them and help them on their way to Canada. Well, I replied, we have all sorts of people in Ohio. I heard a story about a runaway slave a short time before I left home. It was told to me by a Presbyterian minister, who ought to be truthful. He said that the fugitive slave escaped from his master and made his way through Ohio on his way to Canada. He generally traveled at night and lay concealed during the day, but when near the northern boundary of the State, he concluded that it would be safe to travel in the day, not knowing that his master was on his trail and close behind him. That day his master had heard several times that his slave was a short distance ahead, traveling on the main road. The fugitive stopped at a house near the road to beg for something to eat, as he was very hungry. It happened that the people were good folks, who thought it right to feed the hungry, and they invited him in. The lady of the house began to prepare some food, and her husband went out to chop some stove-wood. While he was at the wood-pile, which was near the road, the slave's master rode up and inquired if he had seen a negro pass along the road that day.

        The man quit chopping and asked: "What kind

of a looking fellow is the negro you are after? Is he black or brown or of mixed blood, and where was he from?" When the master had given a full description of his slave and answered the other inquiries, the man said: "Yes, I saw just such a negro pass along here to-day."

        The master brightened up and said: "That is my slave. What time of day was it when he passed? How long ago did you see him?"

        "It has not been more than an hour; he can't be far ahead."

        "Did you speak to him?"

        "Yes, I talked with him for some time."

        "What did he tell you?"

        "Well--he told me a good deal about himself."

        "Now, sir," said the master, "I wish you would tell me all you know about him. He is my property and I intend to capture him at any cost, I will pay you fifty dollars if you will aid me to get hold of him"

        The man deliberated for some time, then said: "I don't know that that would be just right, but I'll tell what I will do. I'll go and counsel with Deacon Jones, who lives at that next house, about a hundred yards off, and if he says it is right I'll tell you all I know about your slave."

        He then dropped his ax, and started to see Deacon Jones. The master rode by his side, and stopped at the deacon's gate, while his companion went into the house. The man staid so long counseling with the deacon that the master grew impatient,

and when, at last, the man came out he asked him, hurriedly: "What did the deacon say?"

        The man, however, was in no haste. He scratched his head and hesitated awhile, then replied:

        "He said he did not think it would be any harm to tell you all I know about your slave."

        The master asked, more impatiently than before, "Well, what do you know about him. Can you tell me where he is now?"

        The man replied: "I don't know exactly where he is now, but when you were talking to me at the wood-pile he was in my house."

        They returned together to the house, the master in no very good humor. The man asked his wife about the negro, and she replied: "He has been gone more than half an hour. When he saw his master ride up, he slipped out of the back-door, and hid in the bushes, and when you were at Deacon Jones', I saw him running like a turkey right toward Canada. You can't catch that fellow!"

        The merchants all laughed at this story, and said it was a Yankee trick. They asked me no more questions about runaway slaves. I had a free and open conversation with them regarding my business in that part of the country. I informed them that I could not deal in slave-labor cotton, on conscientious principles, and gave them a clear understanding of the free-labor business, and of the class of people in the North who were engaged in it.

        The old man Jones said he knew that the Quakers were a quiet and peaceable people who were opposed to slavery, and that they had a right to live

according to their conscientious convictions. He concluded, by saying: "I think that Mr. Coffin is about right, and that slavery is a curse to our country."

        I received several warm invitations to stop over night, but I declined them and continued my journey. I was thankful that I had met with so good an opportunity to advocate anti-slavery principles among the slaveholders.

        I visited in various neighborhoods the planters who produced free-labor cotton, and those who owned gins worked by free labor. I found all the arrangements made by Nathan Thomas working well. On account of drought, the cotton produced that year was considered but half a crop, but I found in Tishomingo County, Mississippi, one hundred and twelve bales of free-labor cotton, in McNairy County, Tennessee, six hundred and sixty-six bales, and in Hardin County, two hundred and sixty-three bales. All this had been ginned by free labor, and was ready for shipment north on the Tennessee River. From Marshall County, Mississippi, several hundred bales were shipped by way of Memphis to Philadelphia. After spending nearly two weeks traveling and visiting in these neighborhoods, and talking freely everywhere on the subject of slavery, I returned to Hamburg. After finishing my business there and at Eastport, I returned home, feeling thankful that I had found such an open field for spreading anti-slavery principles in the South. I believe that our traveling through the cotton-growing States and buying free-labor cotton,

encouraging paid labor and discouraging unpaid labor, were the means of preaching abolitionism in the slave States, and was really pleading the cause of the poor slave.

        Notwithstanding the facilities we had for procuring large quantities of free cotton and the arrangements I had made for manufacturing staple articles in Cincinnati, I found it to be a losing business. On account of the additional expense of procuring free-labor cotton and the difficulty of obtaining and keeping an assortment of dry-goods and groceries, it soon became evident after I opened the store in Cincinnati that the enterprise would not sustain itself unless it could be conducted on a much larger scale than my means allowed.

        Only about half the sum proposed to be raised to aid me in the work was ever raised. It was much easier to pass resolutions in conventions than to carry them into effect. I invested all my available means in the free-labor business and had to use borrowed capital besides. To help sustain me in the work, I connected with it a commission produce business, which entailed much additional labor.

        By this time the demand for free-labor goods in the West had largely increased. I received orders from nearly all the free States west of the mountains, from Canada, and from two of the slave States, Kentucky and West Virginia. My supply was not equal to the demand, and I could not fill the orders for a large assortment. The Philadelphia Association had but one mill for manufacturing cotton, and their prints were coarse in quality. Often, for

want of goods, they could fill my orders only in part.

        The New York Association often lacked a full supply of groceries so that I was unable to obtain enough to fill all my orders. I sold usually in wholesale quantities, and though I did a large business for several years, it was at a constant pecuniary sacrifice, so far as free-labor goods were concerned.

        It required a much larger capital than I was using to make it a self-sustaining business. In order to supply the increasing demand for free-labor goods, it was necessary to enlarge our manufacturing busines; that required a large capital, and men of large capital could not be induced to invest in the business. Few of that class were in sympathy with the free-labor movement.

        I felt anxious for some capitalist to take charge of the business, and release me from it--I wanted to return to my comfortable home in Indiana--but many of my friends seemed to think that if I let go of the helm the ship would stop. They encouraged me to hold on, and suggested the organization of a joint-stock company. It was accordingly advertised that a convention would be held at Salem, Union County, Indiana, on the nineteenth of November, 1850, for the purpose of forming a Free-Labor Association. The convention was largely attended, and a deep interest was manifested in the subject under consideration. In conformity with the resolutions passed, a committee was appointed to take steps to form a joint-stock company, with sufficient capital to enlarge our manufacturing business. The

company was organized under the act of the General Assembly of the State of Ohio relative to incorporations for manufacturing and other purposes. A charter was obtained, and a board of trustees, consisting of William H. Brisbane, Samuel Lewis, John Joliffe, Thomas Freeman, Richard Gaines, Thomas Franklin and myself, were appointed. William H. Brisbane was elected president, Thomas Franklin was secretary, and I was chosen to be treasurer. The title of the company was, "Western Free Produce Manufacturing Company." Books were opened and an appeal was issued to the friends of the cause to come forward and take stock in the company. In order to get as many as possible interested in the work, the stock was divided into small shares. According to our constitution and charter, the company could not go into operation until a specified sum was subscribed and paid in. A number of the friends of free labor responded to the call, but their subscriptions did not reach the sum required; so the enterprise proved to be a failure, and had to be abandoned. The fugitive slave law was enacted that year, and the anti-slavery cause seemed shrouded in gloom, but in the midst of these discouragements we were encouraged by the intelligence of the spread of the free-labor cause in England. A little periodical entitled "The Slave --His Wrongs and Their Remedy," was started there about the first of that year, for the purpose of advocating free-labor principles. From the first number we gained the information that twenty-six free-labor associations had been established, and that notwithstanding

the issue from the press, at Newcastle, of more than one hundred thousand tracts and papers on free-labor subjects, within the three months past, it was difficult to meet the demand for information on this important branch of the anti-slavery enterprise. The free-labor warehouse, at Manchester, had more than equaled the expectations of the proprietor, and efforts were being made to supply him with additional capital for extending operations, and also to open a warehouse in London.

        The associations in England had depended, to some extent, on cotton furnished by the free-labor associations in America, but the cultivation of free-labor cotton in other countries was becoming more extensive. Great Britian had received more cotton from the East Indies the previous year than ever before--it amounted to two-thirds more than the import of the preceding year--and the cultivation of cotton had been commenced on the west coast of Africa. Experiments on the island of Jamaica the previous year had proved the soil and climate to be admirably adapted for its cultivation, the cotton produced being pronounced clean and of good staple and color.

        These accounts from England were encouraging to the friends of the free-labor cause in this country; we hoped to be able soon to procure a better assortment of free-labor goods. I was also encouraged to continue my efforts in this cause by receiving from the East an able and interesting report--printed in pamphlet form--giving an account of what had been done there in the interests of free labor. It

was called "The Report of the Board of Managers of the Free-Labor Association of Friends, of New York Yearly Meeting, adopted at the annual meeting of the Association, held Fifth month 27th, 1851," and was signed by direction and on behalf of the board of managers, by Benjamin Tatham, secretary. A list of the names of the members of the association was given. The number was eighty-three, which comprised many of the most prominent members of New York Yearly Meeting, by which it appeared that the Yearly Meeting was alive to the free-labor subject. This contrasted strongly with the apathy manifested by many Friends of Indiana Yearly Meeting. The report showed that the New York Association had been actively at work, and had recently furnished the mill at Manchester, England, with fifty bales of free cotton. Friends of the free-labor cause in the West seemed anxious for me to continue the business at Cincinnati, and some additional means were furnished that enabled me to continue the manufacture of free cotton and to obtain a better supply of free-labor goods. By close financiering and strict economy I kept up the business at Cincinnati for ten years, then sold out, and retired from mercantile life with very limited means.

APPENDIX.

I. MEMOIR OF RICHARD DILLINGHAM.

        Mention is made, in the preface to these Reminiscences, of two or three accounts which deserved a place, but which were omitted from lack of space. It has since been thought advisable to present two of these, the story of Richard Dillingham and that of Calvin Fairbank, in the form of an appendix. The following sketches are necessarily brief, but they will serve to illustrate one phase of the great Anti-Slavery struggle, and to preserve the names of two individuals who suffered imprisonment for their zeal in the cause of Liberty.

        Richard Dillingham was the son of Quaker parents, who resided in Morrow county, Ohio, and was himself a consistent member of the Society of Friends. His connections were all respectable, and he bore a high name among his associates for uprightness and fidelity to conscientious principles. On attaining his majority he engaged in teaching school, hoping thus to realize a little estate. At the time our story opens, he had been teaching two or three years, and being under engagement of marriage with an amiable and excellent young woman, he naturally looked forward to settling in life soon, and formed many plans for a happy and useful future. He did not forsee that his fond dreams were never to be realized, that he was to die a martyr in the cause of Liberty,

far from home, friends, and all that he held dear. Part of the time that he was engaged in school work, he taught among the colored people in the southern part of Ohio, and heard from them many piteous tales of their friends and relations who were in bondage over the border. His heart was moved to sympathy, and he felt that he could risk his life and liberty in attempting to rescue the slave from cruel oppression. In December, 1848, being then in Cincinnati, he was earnestly solicited by some colored people to go to Nashville, Tennessee, and bring away their relations who were slaves there, under a hard master. He undertook the project, though fully conscious that he encountered great danger. Reaching Nashville, he made himself known to the slaves whom he had come to rescue, and made private arrangements with them about escaping. At the appointed time the party left the city, the three slaves being in a hack, which Dillingham had hired, with a free colored man who acted as driver. Dillingham himself was on horseback. The way to freedom and safety seemed open, but treachery thwarted all their plans. A colored man in whom Dillingham had confided, betrayed him--through what motive, it is not known--and the whole party were arrested when they reached the bridge across the Cumberland river. All were placed in confinement that night. The next day the slaves were sent back to their masters, and the hack driver set at liberty; but Dillingham was held to answer for what seemed in the eyes of the slaveholders an enormous crime--an attempt to restore to their natural God-given liberty, three oppressed human beings. His bail bonds were set at seven thousand dollars, and as no parties could be found to subscribe this amount, he was kept closely confined in jail, until the time appointed for his trial. His cell was twelve by fifteen feet in size, and

was shared by six other prisoners. He was subjected to many annoyances, being compelled to listen to vile and blasphemous language, and to endure the bad, disagreeable temper of two or three of his companions. Yet in this situation he writes to a relation:--

        "Dear brother, I have no hopes of getting clear of being convicted and sentenced to the penitentiary; but do not think I am without comfort in my afflictions, for I assure thee, I have many reflections that give me sweet consolation in the midst of my grief. I have a clear conscience before my God, which is my greatest comfort and support through all my troubles and afflictions."

        To his betrothed he wrote:--

        "Dear P--: I will keep thee no longer in suspense about my sad fate. I am in good health and have been ever since I wrote my last letter to thee, which was just before I took up my lodgings in the county boarding-house of Davidson county, Tennessee, where I am now staying. After I was lodged in jail, I was not taken out to hear my trial before a justice of the peace, on account of the great excitement, there being several hundred persons lying in wait to kill me, if I had been brought out to trial the next day after I was arrested. On the 11th instant, two bills of indictment were found against me by the grand jury for negro stealing. It was almost amusing to see the great curiosity that was manifested the next day after my arrest, by crowds of people who came to the jail to see the awful Abolitionist, though about that time it was too serious a matter to me to make a joke of, for hundreds of the off-scouring of the city would have been glad to hang me if they could have had an opportunity to do it. They peeped through the grates among the prisoners, till they caught sight of me, when to their utter astonishment, they found I was only a man!

         * * Oh, dearest! cans't thou upbraid me? would'st thou call it crime if I were to attempt to rescue thy father, mother, or brother and sister, or even friends, from a captivity among a cruel race of oppressors? O, could thou only see what I have seen, and hear what I have heard of the sad, vexatious,

degrading, and soul-trying situation of as noble minds as ever the Anglo-Saxon race were possessed of, mourning in vain for that universal, heaven-born boon of human freedom which an all-wise and beneficent Creator has designed mankind to enjoy, thou could'st not censure, but would deeply sympathize with me. Take all these things into consideration, and the thousands of poor mortals who are dragging out far more miserable lives than mine will be, even at ten years in a penitentiary, and thou wilt not look upon my fate with as much horror as thou would at first thought. The nearer I live to the principle of the commandment, 'Love thy neighbor as thyself,' the more enjoyment I have of this life. None can know the enjoyments that flow from feelings of goodwill toward our fellow-beings, both friends and enemies, but those who feel and cultivate them. How true is it, that

                         " 'Man's inhumanity to man
                         Makes countless thousands mourn.'
Even in my prison cell I may be happy if I will. For the Christian's consolation can not be shut out from him by enemies or iron gates. Afflictions are often blessings in disguise, and may serve to help us on to a more friendly world, which should be our main object in this."

        Soon after his imprisonment, Richard Dillingham wrote to this young woman, offering to release her from all obligation to him, but she nobly chose to prove her constancy. She wrote to the jailer, entreating him to be kind to Richard Dillingham and make his lot as comfortable as the circumstances of the case would permit. Her letters, and those from his relatives, were very precious to Dillingham in his imprisonment. His trial took place April 13, 1849. His mother, accompanied by her brother, went a distance of seven hundred and fifty miles to attend it. They carried with them a certificate of his character, drawn up by Dr. Brisbane, a noted anti-slavery worker, and numerously signed by his friends and acquaintances, many of them influential citizens, and officially counter-signed by civil officers. This was done at the suggestion

of his counsel, and exhibited by them in court. When brought to the bar, it is said that his demeanor was calm, dignified, and manly. His mother sat by his side. The prosecuting attorney waived his plea, and left the ground clear for Richard's counsel. Their defense was eloquent and pathetic. After they closed, Richard rose, and in a calm and dignified manner spoke extemporaneously as follows:--

        "By the kind permission of the court, for which I am sincerely thankful, I avail myself of the privilege of adding a few words to the remarks already made by my counsel. And although I stand, by my own confession, as a criminal in the eyes of your violated laws, yet I feel confident that I am addressing those who have hearts to feel, and in meting out the punishment that I am about to suffer, I hope you will be lenient, for it is a new situation in which I am placed. Never before in the whole course of my life have I been charged with a dishonest act. And from my childhood, kind parents whose names I deeply reverence, have instilled into my mind a desire to be virtuous and honorable; and it has ever been my aim so to conduct myself as to merit the confidence and esteem of my fellow-men. But gentlemen, I have violated your laws. This offense I did commit; and I now stand before you, to my sorrow and regret, as a criminal. But I was prompted to it by feelings of humanity. It has been suspected, as I was informed, that I was leagued with a fraternity who are combined for the purpose of committing such offenses as the one with which I am charged. But gentlemen, the impression is false. I alone am guilty, I alone committed the offense, and I alone must suffer the penalty. My parents, my friends, my relations are as innocent of any participation in, or knowledge of my offense, as the babe unborn. My parents are still living, though advanced in years, and, in the course of nature, a few more years will terminate their earthly existence. In their old age and infirmity they will need a stay and protection, and if you can consistently with your ideas of justice, make my term of imprisonment a short one, you will receive the lasting gratitude of a son who reverences his parents, and the prayers and blessings of an aged father and mother who love their child."

        At the close of these touching remarks, much sensation appeared in the court-room, and several of the jury wept. They retired for a few moments, and returned a verdict for three years' imprisonment in the penitentiary. This was the mildest sentence the law allowed for the offense committed. His mother before leaving Nashville, visited the Governor, and had an interview with him in regard to pardoning her son. He gave her some encouragement, but thought she had better postpone her petition for the present. Subsequent efforts in this direction proved of no avail.

        Richard Dillingham was transferred from the county jail to the penitentiary, and put to hard labor, namely, sawing rock. He was allowed to write to his friends but once in three months, and his letters were inspected by the warden. His health suffered, and he became despondent. After nine months' imprisonment he was made steward of the penitentiary hospital, a post which he filled to the satisfaction of the prison officials. In the summer of 1850, the cholera broke out among the inmates of the penitentiary, and many died. Richard Dillingham dealt out medicines, and was unwearied in his attentions to his fellow prisoners, many of whom he saw die and be buried in one day. At last the solemn message came to him. One Sabbath morning he was attacked with cholera; he died at two o'clock, p. m., and was buried at half past three.

        Thus perished a most estimable young man, in the flower of his days. No monument has been raised to commemorate his sacrifice, but his name is remembered among the unsung heroes who, without glory or renown, have yielded up their lives in the furtherance of Human Right and Liberty.