The Film: More Stories:
Plucky Charley
 

THE LAKE SHORE

H O M E   M A G A Z I N E

Is Patriotic but not Partizan, Devout but not Sectarian.

VOL. VI.                                  ERIE, PA.,  AUGUST 1886.                                No. 8

ROMANCES AND REALITIES

-- OF THE --

UNDERGROUND RAILROAD.

[Copyrighted, by H.U. Johnson, 1885]

------

                        PLUCKY CHARLEY.

                        I.

            “Cha’ley, I say Cha’ley, a’ my chil’ns gone ‘cep’ you, an’ Massa’s done gone an’ sol’ you, an’ Ill nebbe see you’gin in a’ dis bressed wu’l’, nebber! nebber!”

            “Guess not, muder:  ol’ Massa promised you when he put de udders in de coffle to keep me allus.”

            “Yes, Cha’ley, dat am so, but dis bery morning’ I hear ‘im tell dat unspec’ble trader he’ll sen’ you to him Monday mornin’ shu’ah, an’ dat he mus’ put yer in jail till he start de drove fur down de riber.  May de Lor’ help yer my chil’ when yer ol’ mudder’s ha’t am clean broke.”

            “De Lor’ help you, mudder; dis chil’ help hisself, so jus’ gib me my dinnah, mudder, fo’ I mus’ go to de fiel’ to do Massa’s arran’ to de boss.”

Had the ear of the reader been present in the little back kitchen of a fine plantation residence in London County, Virginia, in the Autumn of 1850, the above conversation might have been heard between a colored woman rather past middle life and her son, an athletic young man of about twenty years of age, as they conversed in low tones.  The woman had long been the cook in the family and had lived  to see her husband and all her children except Charley, the youngest, sold for the southern market, joined in the coffle like so many beasts and driven away.

            To alleviate her agony, she had been promised that Charley should ever remain with her, and resting in this promise she had toiled unrepiningly on, whilst the lad had been kept as a kind of boy of all chores about the house, going occasionally, as a kind of body servant with his master to Washington, Baltimore and Wheeling, thus being enabled, by close observation to pick up a little general knowledge. 

            Thus things had passed until the morning of the day in question, when she accidentally overheard the sale of the boy, and with an aching heart communicated the news to him as he came to the kitchen as usual for his dinner.  How earnestly her mother’s heart may have prayed that the Lord would open up a way of escape for her darling boy no one can tell, neither does it matter, for no sooner was the fact of the sale communicated to him than the mental resolve of the youth was taken to effect an escape.

            The frugal dinner was dispatched in silence, the mission to the field duly executed and a prompt return thereof made, much to the satisfaction of the master. 

            Night, sable goddess, had spread her curtain over earth, and the valleys amid the Alleghenies were sleeping in quiet, when Charley, crawling from his couch, so stealthily, indeed, as not to disturb the early slumbers of his mother, crept softly to the stable, saddled his master’s best steed, noiselessly led it to the public highway beyond the mansion, and, turning its head toward the realm of freedom, mounted, and giving the noble beast the rein, was soon moving with such velocity as to place fifty miles between him and master and mother by the time the first gray tinge of morning began to break along the eastern hills.  Riding deep into a wooded ravine, he secured the horse for the day, and then betook himself to sleep.  At evening he unloosed the beast, stripping it of saddle and bridle, and then betook himself to the woods and byways, shunning all towns and subsisting on green corn and such fruits as he could find for a period of fifteen days, when, weary and forlorn, he entered Wheeling just before daylight.  An utter stranger, and almost perishing with hunger, he knew not what to do, but seeing a light in the bar room of the City Hotel he resolved to enter, hoping to find some attendant of his own race, to whom he could appeal for food and assistance across the river.  Instead of an attachee, the landlord was himself already astir.  Though residing on sacred soil and in many respects a typical Virginian, mine host kept only hired servants, and though in no wise disposed to discuss the merits of the peculiar institution pro or con, he was often able to make wise suggestions to the thoughtless or inconsiderate of both sections who might temporarily be his guests. 

            Once fairly within and under the scrutinizing gaze of this man, Charley made bold to ask for bread. 

            “Bread, you want, do you, you black runaway!” said the landlord rather roughly.

            “I’ze no runa . .”

            “Yes you are you black rascal.  Come go with me and I’ll show you something.”

            Instinctively following the footsteps of the landlord, Charley was led to the stable where he recognized at once his master’s horse.  Then the man took a paper from his pocket  and read a complete description of him, and closed by saying:  “You are this Charley and your master will give $500 to any man who will return you.”

            Seeing he was caught, Charley pleaded, “O Lor’, Massa, doan gib me up.”

            “No, I’ll not; your master is close at hand.  Do you see that house across the lot yonder?”

            “Yes, Massa, I sees.”

            “Well, you go there quick.  Tell them I sent you and that they must take care of you.  Go right in at the back door.  Be quick or you’ll be caught.”

            With both heart and feet abound, Charley made for the designated place.  He found only a woman, sick upon her bed.  Ere he had fairly made his errand known, there was heard the sound of horses’ feet upon the street, and looking out, Charley saw his master and another man coming at full speed, and began to cry.

            “Get under the bed, quick, and keep perfectly still,” said the woman; a command which was obeyed without questioning.  Catching up her baby, the woman gave it a tumble which set it to crying like mad.  Just then the master thrust his head in at the door and inquired, “Have you seen a young nigger come in here?”

            “Hust h-u!” “Wah ka-wa!”  “What did!”  “Wha-Ka wa wa!” “hush there – did you say?”  Ka-wha wa wah.”

            “I say did” – “we wa wha!” – “at the barn!” – “we wa ah!” – “he can tell you!” – “wa we wah ke wha!” and the door was slammed to by the disgusted Southron.

            Whilst the trio were hastening to the barn, Charley, in obedience to the woman’s directions, hastily ascended a ladder in the corner of the room, which he drew up, and placed a board in such a way as to obliterate all appearance of an opening in the floor. 

            The conference at the barn was short, and away went the riders up the road in hot pursuit of a mythical nigger the man at the barn had seen running in that direction not half an hour before.

            In a few minutes the husband returned to the house, milk pail in hand, but entirely ignorant of what had transpired within.  “What about the boy, wife, those men were enquiring about?  I supposed they were in pursuit of some one, so I sent them up the road after an imaginary man,”  he said.

            “Well, I don’t know anything about your imaginary man, but I know about the boy,” replied the wife. 

            “Well, where is he?”

            “He went from under my bed up the ladder whilst the men were going for you.  Baby helped the matter mightily.  Now you must carry the poor fellow something to eat.”

            As soon as it was deemed safe, the ladder was let down, and Charley was supplied with a hearty breakfast, and then bidden to make himself comfortable for the day, a thing he was not slow to do, as he had slept little since his flight began.  When evening came, he was called down, and after a bountiful supper, which was dispatched in silence, he was taken to the road where three horses were standing.  On one of these a man was already seated; the second Charley was bidden to mount, and into the saddle of the third his kind host vaulted. 

                        Moving around the town, they came to a road leading northward, Charley’s feelings alternately ebbing and flowing between fear and hope, for, notwithstanding the kindness of his host and hostess, he could but fear that he was to be given up for the $500.

Proceeding some distance up the river, the horses were hitched in some bushes and the party descended to the river, where a boat was loosened and Charley was bidden to enter.  When all were seated, the little craft pushed out into the stream, and soon Charley and his host stepped onto the other shore.  Going up the bank into a public highway, the man placed in his hands some little articles of clothing and some bread, and then, pointing with the index finger, said:  “Yonder is the North Star; you are now in a free state and may go forward; may God bless you; good by;” and before Charley, in his astonishment, could utter a word, he was gone.  A few moments the fugitive stood in a reverie which was broken by the splash of the oar in the river below, and he awoke to the consciousness that he was again alone.  On the one hand was the beautiful river, whose outline he could dimly see; on the other ere far reaching fields, with no habitation looming up in the darkness, and above him was the star bespangled sky, among whose myriad twinklers he looked in vain for the one which had so recently been pointed out to him.  Alas, the defectiveness of his education!  Whilst others of his kind had been dilligent in securing a definite knowledge of this loadstone of the Heavens, he had been happy in the discharge of the light duties of his childhood home, never once thinking of flight until the fact of his sale was broken to him by his mother, and then there was no time for schooling.  The dazed condition in which he now found himself from the revelations of the past hour caused him to look up to the starry firmament as into vacancy, finding nothing with which to guide himself.  At length he proceeded a short distance, but becoming bewildered, he sat down and soon fell asleep and dreamed that two men came and were putting him in jail.  His struggles and resistance wakened him, and he set out and proceeded as best he could in the darkness.  Just at daylight he espied a piece of paper nailed to a fence.  Approaching it he perceived it had upon it the picture of a negro running, and in every way looked like the one the landlord had shown him in the barn.  Whilst standing thus before the picture, wrapped in thought as to what to do next, he felt a hand laid upon his shoulder, and turning, saw a man with a very broad brimmed hat and so peculiarly clothed as he had never seen one before.  He was about to run when the man said:  “Stop, friend, thee need not run.  What have we here?” and reading the bill, he at once remarked:  “Why, friend, this means thee, and thy master is ready to pay any man $500, who will place thee in his hands.  Come with me or somebody may enrich himself at thy expense” 

            There was something so kind and frank in the manner and words of the man that Charley followed him to a retreat deep in the woods.  Seeing that he had bread with him, the stranger said:  “Keep quiet and I will bring thee more food to-night,” and immediately left.

            As was customary in other cases, handbills minutely describing Charley had been widely distributed, and, of course, read by everybody, and it being a free country everybody had a right to apply the information gained as he saw fit.  So it was that when Charley’s master crossed into Ohio twelve hours after his chattel, and proceeded northward, he found no lack of persons who had seen just such a person that very day.  Even our friend of the early morning described him minutely and had seen him wending his way into the interior only a few hours before, bearing with him a little bundle.  As the route at this season of the year was supposed to be towards Sandusky or Detroit, the pursuers were decoyed on by the way of Carrollton, Allian and Ravenna towards the lake, by the smooth stories of men who had seen him only a day or two before—but only on paper.  Wearied, however, they at length committed his capture to the hands of the organized set of biped hounds which infested the whole south shore from Detroit to Buffalo, and returned homeward.

            When Charley’s friend returned to him in the evening, he informed him of the little interview he had had with his master, and that it would be necessary for him to remain some time in his charge.  He was consequently taken to a more comfortable hiding place, and after the lapse of some three weeks was forwarded by way of New Lisbon, Poland, and Indian run, to Meadville, and thenee by way of Cambridge and Union to the Parsonage at Wattsburg.

III.

            The traveler who has been swept along on the Nickel Plate or Lake Shore over the Black Swamp country and onward through Cleveland, Ashtabula and Erie, seeing little that savors of roughness, except perchance the gulches about the Forest City, the bluffs at Euclid and Little Mountain in the distance, would little think as he crosses the unpretentious bridges spanning Six-Mile-Creek, cast of Erie, that just a little way back it passes through some wild and rugged country; yet such is the fact.  Down through a deep gorge come its crystal waters, whilst high above them on its precipitate banks the hemlock has cast its somber shadows for centuries.  Into a thin, scarcely accessible portion of this gorge came years ago John Cass, and took possession of a primitive “carding works,” where he diligently plied his craft, rearing his sons and daughters so habits of industry, frugality, virtue, and love of their little church, which is situated some two miles away on an elevated plateau, which from its largely Celtic population, has acquired the appellation of “Wales.”

            The little Celts of this rural community were very much surprised one winter day to see their old pastor, Parson Rice, who resided at Wattsburg, go dashing by the School-house with a colored man in his sleigh.  Never before had their unsophisticated eyes seen such a sight, and what they that day beheld was the all-engrossing theme in the homes of the Joneses to the Williamses and the Davises that night.

            As for Parson Rice, he kept right on down, down, until he reached the carding works of his worthy parishioner, where the woolly head of Charley was safely hidden amid fleeces of a far whiter hue.

            In this retreat he remained for some time, and was taught his letters by the young Casses, William, Edward, Jane and the others.  When, at length, it was deemed safe to remove him, he was taken by Mrs. Cass to the office of the True American in the city.  From this, after a little delay, he was conveyed to the home of Col. Jas. Moorhead, who passed him on to Parson Nutting, at State Line, by whom he was duly forwarded to Knowlton Station, Westfield, New York.

            Though the temperature was below zero, it was again getting hot for Charley, for vigilant eyes all along the line were watching for the young nigger whose return to his master was sure to bring $500, and that he had reached the lake shore was now a well ascertained fact, and unusual activity was noticed among the kidnapping crew.

            It was a bitter cold day, with the snow flying and drifting, that Mr. Knowlton’s spanking team of jet blacks, still well remembered by many a Westfielder, came out of his yard attached to a sleigh, in the bottom of which was a package evidently of value, as it was carefully covered with blankets and robes.  Under a tight rein the team headed eastward, and with almost the fleetness of the wind passed Portland, Brocton, and turning at the old Pemberton stand, in Fredonia, made Pettit Station.  Here, Charley was made safe and happy for the night, and the next day was landed safely in the Queen’s Dominion from Black Rock.

            ODD LINKS.

I.

            Edwin Reynolds, a farmer near Homerville, Licking Co., Ohio, had a capacious cellar which he used as a station.  He was surrounded on all sides by bitter pro slavery men, and consequently had to be very guarded.  One of these men, Ben Cretchet, a firm friend of Reynolds, had long suspected his way of utilizing the cellar.  One night, seeing three covered wagons go by, he donned his coat and followed.  As he expected, the teams drew up at Reynolds’s and began to unload their colored freight.  Cretchet slipped in among the wagons and as Reynolds passed the darkies one by one to the scuttle, he contrived to step up as the last one.  The proprietor laid his hand upon him in the dark and was about to pass him on, when the other said:  “I guess I won’t go down to-night.”

            “Thunder! Is that you, Ben?” said Reynolds, recognizing his voice.

            “Yes, but never mind; the thing is all right.  I saw these teams come along and I had a curiosity to know their loading, Ed.”

            “Well, you have succeeded, but if you ever tell, I’ll . . .”

            “Never, Ed, only you must put up the drinks.”

            “All right; its my treat.”

            Extreme Democrat as he was, Cretchet kept the secret even from his own family for years, and also stepped so far beyond the bonds of party propriety as to assist several wandering fugitives to the Reynolds cellar.

            II.

            About the year 1839, a company of some six or eight fugitives were brought late one Saturday night to the home of Parson Benjamin Fenn; at Gustavus, Trumbull Co., Ohio.  As usual, they were carefully stowed away in the parsonage barn, with instructions to keep very quiet, and the barn was duly closed so as to prevent intrusion.

            Church, Sunday school and dinner over on the Sabbath, Ben., jr., who is still remembered as rather irrepressible for a Presbyterian preacher’s son, sallied out to inspect a hen’s nest he had recently found.  As many another boy has done, he managed to scare up the hen, which naturally flew towards the barn, and the boy just as naturally took after her.   Coming up against the bay, he heard a slight rustling within, and, boy-like, must needs take a peek through the cracks to see what was going on within.  Greatly excited at the fine display of several well set rows of ivory set in a back ground of ebony, he rushed to the house and into the presence of his father, exclaiming:  “Father, say father, there’s a whole lot of niggers in the barn.”

            “I guess not, my boy.”

            “Yes, but there is; I just seen ‘em.  Come, father, you go and see.”

            The boy was not to be put off, so Benjamin, sr., and Benjamin, jr. walked hand in hand to the barn and took a survey of the tenants.  Returning to the house the father took his boy, then some ten or twelve years old, to his side, and expounded to him the evils, the iniquities and the horrors of slavery; told him that those people in the barn had escaped from such a vile bondage and been helped thus far on their way to a land where no slavery is, by good and kind people, and that now he and some of the neighbors were soon to help them farther along; assured  him that if it were known they were here, the officers would come and return them to slavery, and that he might be torn from his family and perhaps be cast into prison for befriending them.

            To this recital the lad listened with intensest interest, his cheek glowing with crimson, his heart swelling and beating against his chest, or his young eyes filling with tears, according as emotions of shame, indignation or pity took possession of his soul, and when the old Parson concluded by saying:  “Now, Benny, my boy, I have told you all about this matter, and you see what difficulty you might get your father into, and what distress you might bring upon your mother and the children, including yourself; so you must not say a word to any one, not even mamma, about what you have seen to-day.  You won’t darling, will you?” and he put his arm about the child in an affectionate embrace. 

            With that earnestness which only a highly excited boy can manifest, Benjamin, jr., returned the embrace and, his eyes swimming in tears, replied:  “No father, no; I’ll never say a word about it as long as I live!  The poor things.”

            Thus assured, the father gently placed the boy aside and turned complacently to “10thly” of his argument favoring eternal damnation, which was to be the theme of the evening.  IN a few minutes his soul became thoroughly absorbed in his subject, whilst the junior’s feelings becoming somewhat relaxed, he glided unobserved from the room into the front yard and observing a bevy a boys at play on the common, off he started at his utmost speed, and swinging his hat lustily cried t the top of his voice:  “Say, boys, there’s a whole lot of niggers in fathers barn; come and see ‘em.”  And immediately half a dozen pair of feet were making rapidly for the Parson’s stable.

            The upshot of this visit was that good Mrs. Fenn was hastened off to inform the parents of the boys that they were all safe in her upper chamber for the night, and that after the evening service, in which the Parson had put all alien doubters to flight, a council was called in his study, at which were present Deacon Case, the fathers of the afore mentioned boys and Thribble X. who had that day eclipsed himself in his defense of universal salvation, but who was intensely orthodox on all matters pertaining to the road.

            The result of the council was that by midnight, the Deacon’s carriage was wheeling three of the ebony occupants of the Parson’s barn toward Ray’s Corners, near Jefferson; they were on horse-back making for the Coleman’s in the eastern part of Wayne, whilst the two strongest were attempting to keep step to the long strides of X. X. X. as he struck out for the home of one Merritt, in Greene whence the next night he took them to Brown’s Retreat, on Mornal Island in the middle of the great Bloomfield Swamp.

            As for the boys, after a good nights sleep in Mrs. Fenn’s spare beds, they were sent home in the morning under such an injunction of silence as they were glad to keep for a whole morning.