THE
UNDERGROUND
RAILROAD IN GIBSON COUNTY.
One
of the most
interesting topics of the early history of Gibson county, and one which
has never been written, is the "underground railroad." which passed
through the county from south to north in the days before and during
the Civil war. The underground railroad, in brief terms, was an avenue
of escape, a system of "stations."' or friends, extending from the
slave states into Canada. A negro was transported from one station to
another under the protection of the different station masters, who
incurred great risks and many narrow brushes with death, in their
desire to serve the cause of abolition. Not only from the slave owners
in pursuit did the runaways and the station masters have to fear, but
from a class of Northerners termed "wolves." who. in order to gain the
reward offered for the return of escaped Negroes, would endeavor to
apprehend the fleeing men. There were many avenues of escape running
during the fifties and sixties, and many and diverse were the methods
used to smuggle the Negroes to the Canadian line. Once in that neutral
territory, they were safe from pursuit. One of these lines extended
through Gibson county, and there were two stations known to have
existed here, the principal one being three miles northwest of the city
of Princeton, just below a big hill, at the home of David Stormont: the
other station being in the Carithers neighborhood east of Princeton,
the home of John Carithers. There was also another small relay station
one mile west of Patoka. kept by David Hull.
In
the history of the
underground railroad, written just after the war by William Still, a
colored anti-slavery worker, reference is made to the station kept by
David Stormont. It is in the story of Seth Concklin. who nobly
sacrificed his life to aid the wife and kindred of Peter Still, a slave
who had bought his own freedom, but whose dearest possessions were yet
in bondage, to escape by the underground railroad route. The plan
proposed by Concklin was a hazardous one, and he undertook to execute
it alone, with consequent failure. He and his charges were
captured after they had proceeded as far north as Vincennes. Indiana,
twenty-five miles north of Princeton. To William Still several letters
were written by Concklin during his attempt to escape with Peter
Still's wife and relatives. One of these missives refers directly to
David Stormont, although the letter has the name written as "Stormon."
The
letter follows:
"Princeton,
Gibson
County. Ind.. Feb. 18. 1851.
"To
Wm.
Still:—The plan is to go to Canada, on the Wabash, opposite
Detroit. There are four routes to Canada. One through Illinois,
commencing above and below Alton: one through to north Indiana, and the
Cincinnati route, being the largest route in the United States.
"I
intended
to have gone through Pennsylvania, but the risk going up the
Ohio river has caused me to go to Canada. Steamboat traveling is
universally condemned; though many go in boats, consequently many get
lost. Going in a skiff is new. and is approved of in my case. After I
arrive at the mouth of the Tennessee river. I will go up the Ohio
seventy-five miles, to the mouth of the Wabash, then up the Wabash,
forty-four miles to New Harmony, where I shall go ashore by night, and
go thirteen miles east, to Charles Grier, a farmer (colored man), who
will entertain us, and next night convey us six-teen miles to David
Stormon. near Princeton, who will take the command, and I will be
released.
"'David
Stormon
estimates the expenses from his house to Canada at forty
dollars, without which, no sure protection will be given. They might be
instructed concerning the course, and beg their way through without any
money. If you wish to do what should be done, you will send me fifty
dollars, in a letter, to Princeton. Gibson county. Indiana as it arrive
there by the 5th of March. Eight days should be estimated for a letter
to arrive from Philadelphia.'"The money to be State Bank of Ohio, or
State Bank, or Northern Bank of Kentucky, or any other eastern bank
Send no notes larger than twenty dollars.
"One
half
of my time has been used in Irving to find persons to assist, when
I may arrive on the Ohio river, in which I have failed, except Stormon.
"Having
no
letter of introduction to Stormon from any source, on which I could
fully rely. I traveled two hundred miles around, to find out his
stability. I have found many Abolitionists, nearly all who have made
propositions, which themselves would not comply with, and nobody else
would. Already I have traveled over three thousand miles. Two thousand
and four hundred by steamboat, two hundred by railroad, one hundred by
stage, four hundred on foot, forty-eight in a skiff.
"I
have
yet five hundred miles to go to the plantation, to commence
operations. I have been two weeks on the decks of steamboats, three
nights out, two of which I got perfectly wet If I had had paper money,
as McKim desired, it would have been destroyed. I have not been
entertained gratis at any place except Stormon's. I had one hundred and
twenty-six dollars when I left Philadelphia, one hundred from you,
twenty-six mine.
"Telegraphed
to
station at Evansville. thirty-three miles from Stormon's. and at
Vincennes, twenty-five miles from Stormon's. The Wabash route is
considered the safest route. No one has ever been lost from Stormon's
to Canada. Some have been lost between Stormon's and the Ohio. The
wolves have never suspected Stormon, Your asking aid in money for a
case properly belonging east of Ohio, is detested. If you have sent
money to Cincinnati, you should recall it. I will have no
opportunity to use it.
"Seth
Concklin.
Princeton. Gibson County. Ind."
However,
as has been
stated before, the worthy Concklin failed in his mission to get his
Negroes to the Canadian line. Concklin was placed in jail, whereupon he
wrote to David Stormont to get funds for bail. A report afterward
circulated, and found to be reasonably true, was to the effect that a
man was found drowned, with his hands and feet in chains and his skull
fractured. This was Seth Concklin.
In
his book, "Looking
Back from the Sunset Land," Rev. N. R. Johnston has written a very
interesting narrative of his observation of Seth Concklin and his
party. He writes;
"In
fulfillment of
presbyterial appointments I was at Princeton preaching two or three
Sabbaths the latter part of March and the first of April. Early in the
week before my last Sabbath there. Mr. David Stormont came to my
lodging place (Elder Robert Stormont's) and told me that Seth Concklin
and the four escaped slaves were at his house, having recently arrived
safely from Alabama. Of course I accepted Mr. Stormont's invitation to
ride with him to see his guests. They all were well, though tired and
sleepy, and all were anxious about their safety as they knew that
though they were now in a free state they were not free from the danger
of being captured and taken back to slavery again. They had arrived the
night before, having been conducted by the colored man. Charles Grier.
Mr. Concklin gave me a warm welcome and was somewhat cheerful. With the
others I soon became acquainted, though the two sons and the young
daughter were reserved and diffident, having had no other school than
the slave plantation. Mrs. Still. 'Aunt Vina.' was quite free in
conversation. She was manifestly a woman of great natural ability and
of rare common sense. I spent the day and the the boatman
to stop. He did not obey the order, but rowed on the more stoutly. The
fellows on shore then tired guns at the boat, but the God of the
oppressed preserved those in the skiff from harm. Passing out into the
Ohio and thereon up to the mouth of the Wabash, they rowed up this
stream to New Harmony, and then carried out their plan as written in
the letter to William Still.
"The
night that I lodged
at Mr. Stormont's Mr. Concklin and I slept in the same room and
conversed until a late hour about things in which we both were
interested, and we were not forgetful that the house might be
surrounded at any hour of the night by a posse of pursuers of fugitive
slaves.
"That
was probably the
last time that Seth Concklin ever slept on an ordinary bed. The next
day duty called me away and I bade good-bye to the fugitives and their
faithful friend and guide. Shortly after they were all on the highway
towards Canada.
"What
happened after
their departure from Mr. Stormont's was not known except from
unreliable reports from published telegrams and from Seth Concklin's
letter to David Stormont. written after Concklin had been lodged in
prison. Probably the reader may understand the situation at this time
if I here copy a brief extract from a letter I wrote from Evansville.
Indiana, to William Still under the date of March 31. 1851.
"
I think it was
twenty-three miles above Vincennes. Indiana, where they were seized by
a party of men and lodged in jail. Telegraphic dispatches were sent all
through the South. I have since learned that the marshal of Evansville
received a dispatch from Tuscumbia to look out for them. By some means
he and the master, so says report, went to Vincennes and claimed the
fugitives, chained Mr. Concklin and hurried all off. As soon as he was
cast into prison Mr. Concklin wrote to David Stormont at Princeton to
find bail. As soon as he received the letter and could get away, two of
us were about setting off to render all possible aid when we were told
they all had passed south a few hours before, through Princeton. Mr.
Concklin in chains. What kind of process was had, if any. I
know not. I immediately came down to this place and learned
that they had been put on a steamboat at three p. m. I did not arrive
until six. Now all hopes of their recovery are gone.'
"After
the letter from
which this is extracted was written, additional facts were learned that
threw some light on the dark tragedies. I communicated some of them to
William Still, and this letter also he published in his book which came
out nearly twenty years afterwards. I did not hear of the
capture of the fugitives until Mr. Stormont came into town and informed
me of the sad intelligence. This was sometime on Saturday. Nothing
could be done for the prisoners until after the Sabbath, when I was
expected to preach. Besides. Mr. Concklin's letter had said that the
trial was fixed for Thursday of the week following. Accordingly we made
arrangements to go to Vincennes as soon as the Sabbath was over, that
we might do all in our power to rescue the captives.
"Early
on Monday morning
Mr. Stormont and I were seated in the buggy and the lines in his hand,
ready to set out from Princeton on our errand of rescue as we tried to
hope, when a friend came hurriedly to inform us that we need not go as.
on the day before. the captured party had all been taken through the
town, going south in charge of the United States marshal from
Evansville. and accompanied by the slave owner. McKiernon. from
Alabama. Afterwards, the following facts were learned. The telegram
that had been sent from Evansville into the South had been read by
McKiernon, who hastened to go for his chattels. Taking the United
States officer with him from Evansville. he hurried to Vincennes and
claimed his slaves. They were given up to him and into the possession
of the marshal without any trial whatever. The law was obeyed to the
letter and the persons surrendered 'on the claim of him to whom such
service or labor is due.' Concklin was handcuffed by the marshal and
put into the stage coach with the colored people, and behind the coach
rode in their own carriage the slave owner and the marshal. They left
Vincennes on Sabbath morning and reached Princeton in time for dinner.
While the master was in the hotel eating, the prisoners were retained
in the stage under guard and without food: and then they all hurriedly
drove on to Evansville.
"As
I was expected to
preach in St. Louis the next Sabbath and as I believed it my duty to do
everything possible to prevent the dragging of the fugitives back into
bonds, and if possible to save poor Concklin from chains, and from the
awful fate which seemed to await him if carried into Alabama by the
bloodhounds who had caught him. I hastened to take the morning stage
for Evansville in the hope that I might reach the city before the
departure of the captives and their captors. It was my purpose to
hasten to employ an attorney and have writs issued for the release of
the captives who had been brought away from Vincennes without any trial
whatever. But I was too late. Three hours before my arrival all the
party had departed by steamboat for Paducah. a town at the mouth of the
Tennessee river. That same night I took the first steamer going down
the river, and still hoping that during the short time that Miller was
guarded by McKiernon. the master, the latter had struck the hated man a
fatal blow on the head, and then had thrown him overboard and that to
avoid suspicion in the morning he had told the marshal that while on
guard he had fallen asleep and that on awakening he had discovered that
Miller was gone. Any of these reports might have been true, as Miller
was kept upon the hurricane deck where no other person was at night
except his guard. But after learning all I could and after the friends
of Seth Concklin in Philadelphia had sent a deputation to Paducah to
ascertain all possible as to his death and burial. I regarded the last
opinion as the most plausible. The following facts led to this belief.
It was said, but upon what authority 1 do not remember, that McKiernon
had promised to pay the United States marshal one thousand dollars on
condition that he would return the fugitives and the man Miller at
South Florence. Alabama. As at Paducah Miller was found dead, and as
the four slaves were in the possession of the master in his own state,
he had no more need of the marshal, who now returned to Evansville.
Report said moreover that McKiernon and the marshal had quarreled about
the money promised, the former refusing to pay because Miller had not
been returned according to contract; this probably had not been
written. Then the supposition was inferred that in order to have
revenge upon the man who had taken away his property, and to get rid of
the payment of the one thousand dollars, he had taken a bludgeon or
something and had struck the fatal blow on the head of Miller, and then
threw him overboard, expecting to escape detection as all were fast
asleep and none could testify to the facts which would condemn the
murderer."
Were
all of the
experiences of David Stormont available for publication, they would
form a chain of thrilling narrative with true dramatic quality. But,
unfortunately, many of these incidents have been lost, and there remain
but few scattering tales regarding the days when Stormont kept a
station house, and relayed runaway Negroes toward the north.
The
log home of David
Stormont was continually watched by suspicious slave owners who had
come North in pursuit of their Negroes, and also the wolves, the
Christian wolves as they were called, hovered near the Stormont
premises to get damaging evidence against the station keeper. When
returning from church Stormont was often conscious of men following him
at a discreet distance. And it was well for the men that they should
observe discretion in their movements, as it was the habit of Daniel
Stormont to carry a gun along with his Bible when be went to church,
and could use one as readily as the other. Mrs. Stormont
kept a tea-kettle of boiling water at hand constantly, with which she
intended to blind anybody who attempted to enter their home.
While
wandering about in
the woods nearby one day David Stormont stepped over the brow of a hill
and perceived in the valley below* a group of men. Southerners, with
their horses picketed near them. Their close proximity to his home
could mean but one thing—that his house was being watched at night, if
not even in danger of an open attack. Hurrying home, he apprised his
wife of the danger, and the two made preparations to resist. All
through the night Stormont sat at an open window, with his guns at
hand, and his wife with him to load them as fast as he tired. No attack
was made, but the howling and barking of the dogs on the outskirts of
his farm all night was evidence conclusive that men prowled around all
through the night hours.
Slave
hunters frequently
stopped at Stormont's and inquired as to his help to runaways. He
replied invariably that he would "clothe the naked, and feed the
hungry." Indeed he did this and more. To obtain provisions and clothes
for the Negroes without arousing suspicion was a delicate task. A pair
of shoes one place, trousers at another, and small purchases of
foodstuffs at different stores was the only way he could be reasonably
safe from exposure. He always sent his visitors to Vincennes. with
instructions to look for Sugar Loaf Hill, where the next station might
l>e found. Often Mr. Stormont kept the slaves at his home for
several days, and when he did he let them work on his acres. One time
several Negroes were working in the fields when their master passed by
the road running alongside, and at another time two Negroes were in
Stormont's back yard, when the master called at Stormont's front door
for a drink of water. Often spies came, generally one or two colored
men and one white man. pretending that they were escaped from the
South. Stormont was a man of strong intuition and deep insight into
characters: deception was an open book to him: and it was seldom or
never that these spies were successful in learning anything of him.
To
men of Stormont's type
there is clue much consideration for the brave and charitable part they
played in the drama of those times. They received no remuneration for
their services, only the knowledge that they were serving a noble
cause. The work was dangerous, but not too dangerous for them to
undertake, willingly and energetically. time, he pointed out a route
which he thought most likely they would follow. He pointed to Wheeling
(Kirksville) as the place where he thought they would try to cross the
Patoka river, and said that he would go to that point with the five men
selected and watch that bridge.
"He
authorized the two
men if they could find any reliable persons to guard the Columbia
bridge, for them to do so, as it might be possible that they would go
that way, telling the two men good bye, he asked them to be prompt and
report at the time named.
"That
the reader may
understand, I will state that the slave-hunting bullies had made
themselves so obnoxious to man)' good people in and around Princeton,
that this bogus slave hunt was inaugurated to teach them a needed
lesson. The pretended slave owner was none other than an anti-slavery
spy, and he had five confederates who were well acquainted with the
country and the people. The ones selected to guard the Wheeling bridge
were the most offensive ones in that business, the anti-slavery
confederates had eight heavy bombs made at Kratz & Heilman's
factory in Evansville. which would hold about three pounds of powder,
each with a screw attachment so that a time fuse could be put into the
powder.
"As
soon as it was dark
the five men, carrying the bombs, started two hours ahead of the brave
negro catchers. The first two bombs were placed near the side of the
road in a deep hollow about two and a half miles northeast of
Princeton, the next two were placed about three-fourths of a mile from
the Wheeling bridge, and the other four, two on each side of the bridge
about sixty or seventy yards away. A man was left at each station to
fire the fuse at the proper time, and the extra man nearly a hundred
yards from the bridge down the river to command an imaginary battalion.
These bombs were the real thing for a great noise.
"At
four o'clock the two
men were on hand and had the names of three men who would go out and
watch the Columbia bridge: also said that the other men of their party
would be ready at any time set for the start. The slave-owner said that
he did not care to see the three men who were to go to the Columbia
bridge, as he thought they had but little chance of success, and he
authorized the two men to see that they went, and for them and the
other three of their party to meet him on the north side of the
seminary at one hour after night and they would go to the Wheeling
bridge.
"The
party all assembled
on time and then took the Wheeling road to the northeast for the
bridge. There had been an agreed signal between the
pretended slave owner and his confederates with the bombs, so he could
locate their places, and when the bridge-watching party got to the deep
hollow, Indian creek, a deep, loud voice some way to one side said.
"Who goes there?" The men stopped and listened for some time, but
nothing more was heard. The leader turned to his posse and said. "Did
you let it be known that we were going on this hunt?" They all said
that they had not. He rode around and called several times, but there
was no response.
"
They then rode ahead
and after passing several miles came to where the second station was
located, when from out of the woods to one side of the road, in a deep
sounding voice, came the second challenge. 'Who goes there?" The party
stepped and the leader said in a loud voice. "Who are you. that you
demand who we are?" He waited for some time, but there was no more
sound heard. The leader, after locating the place well, turned to his
men and asked if they thought it could be possible that the
abolitionists would attempt to defeat their plans. They ail said they
did not think they had any idea of their movements. The leader said it
was strange indeed that they should have been twice stopped by such an
unearthly sound.
"They
rode on in silence
to the bridge, crossed over it and went on watch on the north side,
keeping their horses close at hand so they could mount, if they needed
to. in a moment, as the slave-owner told them the slaves would run and
that there were two desperate characters in the lot. The brave
slave-owner had them watch closely. He would walk up and down both
banks of the river, pretending to be watching everything. Finally he
came running up the bank and said. "Boys, get on your horses. I am
certain there is something going on. I heard a noise as of men slipping
through the brush." At this time one of his confederates called out.
'Halt! Dismount: let two men hold the horses; get into line. Shoulder
anus!" At this time one of the bombs near the horses went off. The
leader called. 'Get over the bridge, boys: the abolitionists will blow
it down." At this another bomb exploded near them. This put the horses
in a fearful panic and they went across the bridge at a great gait.
"Soon
the two bombs on
the south side exploded. The men were on the go and it was a half mile
before the leader could stop them. Shaming them for such cowardice,
they stopped and listened, and hearing nothing, marched on to where the
last voice was heard as they went to the bridge, and were listening
there when the two bombs at this point were exploded within a few feet
of them. After this there was no more halt, and the man who fired the
two bombs at Indian creek said he could not tell that they went any
faster, as they were at top speed when they got to him. The leader
tried to keep up. calling to them to stop. They did not heed him, for
they had seen and heard enough for one night and ran all the way back
to Princeton. "In 1865 a captain of the One Hundred and Forty-third
Indiana Regiment, who for years after the war lived at and near
Francisco. Indiana, and later moved west, while seated on the capitol
steps, at Nashville. Tennessee, gave me the data for the above story.
He said he was never so thoroughly frightened in his whole life as when
the big bombs commenced to go off: it sounded as though the infernal
regions had broken loose. Who the five men were who had charge of the
bombs he never could learn, but always believed that they lived in the
Stormont and Carithers neighborhood northeast of Princeton. There is
one fact certain, as he expressed it. it broke him of 'sucking eggs",
and if any of the other four men ever attempted to catch a runaway
negro afterwards, l.e never heard of it."
KIDNAPPING
CASES.
The
following
extracts are taken also from Colonel Cockrum's "Pioneer
History of Indiana":
In
the fall and winter of
1863 I had the misfortune to be an inmate of Libby prison hospital with
a wound made by a minie ball through my hip. There were at that time
about one thousand Federal officers, from the rank of brigadier-general
down to second lieutenant, in that prison. Among that number was Col.
W. McMackin. of the Twenty-first Illinois, the regiment with which
General Grant went into service. He learned where I lived and that the
town of Princeton was near my home, and in talking together he related
to me this strange story which took place some twenty-five years before:
He
said he had gone to
Princeton. Indiana, to meet Hiram Hunter, and had been there for quite
a time doing some school work in the old brick seminary which stood on
the hill, under Hunter or some other persons whom Hunter assigned to
give him lessons in theology. During the time he was there he went out
with the ministers to different churches in the country surrounding
Princeton and heard the old ministers preach. At one time he attended a
camp meeting some miles southwest of Princeton. There were many
preachers and thousands of persons in attendance. While attending one
of these meetings eight or ten miles southwest of Princeton there was a
lengthy service at night and during the time the meeting was going on
there was some rain and quite a flurry of wind. After the
meeting was over Rev. Hiram Hunter, who was in attendance, was invited
by a gentleman who lived near to go home with him to spend the night.
The Colonel, through Hunter, was also invited. They were all on
horseback and Mr. Knowlton (no doubt Knowles) had his wife on the same
horse back of him. They had gone some distance from the church when
they found the road completely blocked by the top of a tree which had
fallen. They all dismounted and crept around the tree top. On coming to
the road on the other side they found a covered wagon which was
stop]>ed by the blockade. On coming up to it a man was seen standing
in the road. Mr. Hunter was in front and asked the man how he came
there with a covered wagon at such a time at night. The man answered
him by saying that it was none of his business. Mr. Hunter was a
determined man and it did not take much of this sort of thing to raise
his anger. He said. "I spoke to you as a gentleman and your answer
shows that you are an ill-bred cur. I am now satisfied that there is
something wrong about you, and before we go any farther we will
investigate." At this point another man appeared, who had been cutting
a road around the other side of the tree and demanded to know what the
trouble was. Mr. Hunter told him that there was no trouble, but they
thought there was something wrong and intended to know what it was. At
this the man with the axe said that the first man who attempted to lay
hands on the wagon would lose his life. As quick as thought one of the
stalwart sons of Mr. Knowlton. who were with the camp-meeting party,
caught the axe and wrenched it out of the threatening fellow's hand.
The other man attempted to aid his partner, when the senior Mr.
Knowlton laid him on his back in the road. The two boys tied the man
they had and the father and Mr. Hunter drew the arms of the man who was
knocked down behind his hack, and Mr. McMackin tied them hard and fast
with his handkerchief. The night was cloudy, but there was a moon, and
it was not very dark. The timber was so very thick on each side of the
narrow road that they could not see to any advantage. Matches at that
time were not in general use. Mr. Knowlton told one of his
sons to take his mother home, mid bring back some material to make a
torch. The young man was soon back with flint, steel and punk, and in
short time they had a flaming torch. In the wagon they found a negro
man and woman with their hands tied, fastened to a cross piece under
the bottom of the wagon and a rope was tied in each of their mouths.
They were soon liberated, but it was some time before they could stand
or talk. They said they lived in Illinois, some miles west of
Vincennes. Indiana, and they had been tied ever since the latter part
of the night before and had been gagged most of the time. They further
said that they had crossed the Wabash at Mt. Carmel on the ferry; that
they were free Negroes and that these two men had come to their cabin
the night before, after they had gone to bed, pretending to be lost,
and asked the privilege of feeding their team near the house, saying
they would sleep in their wagon, but if the negro woman would get them
a good supper they would give her a silver dollar. She did so. Sometime
after midnight they knocked at the door, saying they were cold in the
wagon, and asking permission to lie on the floor. The door was opened
and they caught and tied and put them in the wagon, nearly twenty-four
hours before they were liberated.
The
wagon was turned: the
two kidnappers were made to walk behind it, guided by Hunter and
Knowlton. One of the boys drove the team and they were soon home. After
getting into the house they had an informal examination. The two
Negroes told the same story that they did at the wagon. The man knocked
down was the first interrogated. He was very insolent and said he would
make it dear business to them for stopping him and meddling with his
property; that the two Negroes were his. and he had a description of
them which he showed. He said they had run away from southern Kentucky
about two years before. The other kidnapper would not say anything. The
stories of the Negroes were believed, and it was decided to hold the
men until morning and take all of them to Princeton where legal
proceedings would be brought.
The
first cabin of this
family was standing in the yard. A pallet was made down on the floor,
and the kidnappers were put on it. There were no windows and but one
door which was fastened with a rope on the outside. The boys
volunteered to occupy a room not more than ten feet away and guard the
door. Somehow these outlaws untied each other and got out at the top of
a wide, low chimney and made a break for the stables to get the horses,
but the boys with their guns foiled them in this and they made a rush
for the woods nearby, and thus escaped. That was the last
these people ever heard of them. The next morning it was decided that
air. Knowlton and a neighbor would take the Negroes back to their home.
The two men were well mounted and armed with long rifles, as everybody
was in those days. They soon got started, the Negroes driving the
wagon. When they arrived in the neighborhood where the Negroes lived,
they learned that the team and wagon had been stolen about three miles
north of their cabin, and that the negro family had lived in that
neighborhood for more than twenty years.
A
BLUFF
THAT FAILED TO WORK
About
the year 1851 an
old negro man named Stephenson came to see the author's father, who was
largely interested in farming, to have him keep his boys, one fourteen,
one twelve and the other ten years old, for him until he could make
arrangements to start for Liberia. This my father agreed to do. It was
spring time and the boys, helped with the work. Things went on that
season and the old man had no chance to get away and work was well
under way for the second season. Old man Stephenson had come to this
country from South Carolina with Dr. Samuel McCullough about the middle
of the forties. He was a free man. but married a slave and bought her
freedom. They lived in the same neighborhood for years until his wife
died. One evening, just as the work was over for the day. the colored
boys were doing up the work around the barn. Two men rode up to the
front of the house and called to the author's father, who was sitting
on the porch, saying that they wanted to see him. They told him they
had a description of three colored boys who were born in South Carolina
who were slaves, and had called to see him about it. as they had
learned he had three colored boys working for him.
These
two fellows, no
doubt had a confederate in the neighborhood who had given them a
perfect description of the boys. My father talked to them a while, not
having the least idea who they were, and evidently they did not know
him or they would have been the last fellows to come there on such a
mission. He excused himself to go into the house for something. They
waited for him to return, which he did with his bear gun. "Old
Vicksburg." in his hands.
They
commenced to plead
with him to let there he no difficulty. He told them that there was not
the slightest danger of any trouble. He wanted them to see what sort of
a machine he guarded the boys with, and said to them. "Do you see that
little house?" pointing to a room in our yard. "The three boys sleep
there, and if they are disturbed I will kill fifteen such worthless
vagabonds as you are before you get them, fugitive law or any other
law. And I want to say before I get mad that you had better go for you
may get into danger." He cocked the big gun and said. "I feel it coming
on—go and go quick."
They
took him at his word
and they went in a hurry. He waited until they had gone about
seventy-five yards away when he turned loose on them, intending to
shoot well above their heads. At the crack of that monster
gun they lay down on their horses" necks and made as good time as did
the best mounted F. F. V. when Sheridan's cavalry was after them. The
boys remained with us for nearly three years before they gut away to
Liberia, and that was the last we ever heard of the men hunting for
them.
HOW
REUBE
OBTAINED HIS FREEDOM-TREACHEROUSLY KIDNAPPED
In
1817 William Barrett
moved to this state from Tennessee, and settled in what is now
southwestern Columbia township. Gibson county. Indiana. He had formerly
lived in the state of South Carolina and moved from there to Tennessee
in 1S04.
Some
years after they
reached Indiana a negro man named Reube, who had formerly been a slave
of Mrs. Jacob Sanders, but had been freed for having saved his master's
life, came on from South Carolina with a relinquishment paper for Mrs.
Barrett to sign for her part of her lather's estate. Reube remained for
nearly a year; the winter weather was too cold for him and he had
determined to go back before another winter set in. John W. Barrett, a
son of William, at that time a large gawky boy of about eighteen years
old, and six feet eight inches tail, went with Reube on many fishing
and hunting adventures. When it came time for Reube to start back. John
took him over to Princeton and led the horse which he had ridden back
home. Reube intended to go from there to Myansville with the first
passing team that went that way.
The
act which gave Reube
his freedom was a heroic one. There was a maniac in that section of
South Carolina, who at times became very desperate and was kept in
confinement in such a place as the authorities had for that purpose. He
was very sly and cunning, and stepping up back of Mr. Sanders pinioned
his hands behind him and threw him on the ground, and with a large
knife attempted to cut his throat. Reube being in the garden nearby,
saw his master's peril and running up behind the maniac, struck him at
the butt of his ear with a hoe and felled him to the ground. Mr.
Sanders said, "Reube, from this day on you are a free man and I will at
once make out your free papers." He told him to stay on the place if he
wanted to, for as long a time as suited him, and he would pay him for
all the work he did. The papers were made out and in giving him his
freedom, a full history was given, and it was recorded. To make it
certain that no one would disturb Reube, Mr. Sanders had a full history
of the case engraved on a gold plate; also had a gold chain attached to
the gold plate that went around his neck, so that it was easy at any
time, if the patrol stopped him. to show the certificate on the plate.
Mr. Barrett's family heard nothing of Reube for two or three years.
Finally Mr. Sanders wrote to his niece, Mrs. Barrett, asking her why
Reube did not come back. I n 1832 Col James \V. Cockrum bought the
steamboat "Nile," and intended to run her up the Yazoo river and other
small rivers to bring the cot-ton out and carry it to New Orleans. John
\Y. Barrett, a brother-in-law, was made clerk of the boat and had
charge of the freight. At one landing on the Yazoo river there was a
large quantity of cotton to be loaded and the planters were still
delivering from their farms. Young Barrett was on the deck tallying as
the mate and deck hands were putting the cargo aboard when a colored
man came near and said, "Mr. Barrett, don't you know me? I am Reube.
who hunted with you in Indiana. Don't let on you know me.'' Barrett did
know him and was greatly surprised at thus meeting him. Finally he got
a chance and told Reube to roll a bale of cotton behind the cabin
stairs. Reube told him that his master was on the bank and it was not
safe for them to be seen talking together. The planter whom Reube
called his master had a large amount of cotton and was watching the
count of the bales and his slaves were helping to load it in order that
they might finish before night. During the loading Barrett had several
chances to say a word to Reube. There was a wood yard some miles below
where the boat would stop to take on wood. Reube said he would be down
there when the boat came, as it would be some hours after night, and
when the boat was rounded to Reube was ready to load wood as soon as it
was measured. Barrett watched his chance and took Reube down in the
hold and secreted him there and looked after him. They got to New
Orleans, unloaded the cotton, and took on a lot of government freight
for the upper Arkansas river to one of the military outposts. Reube was
still in hiding, no one but the clerk being aware of his presence on
board.
While
they were unloading
the government freight. Barrett went to the commander of the fort and
told the history of Reube and all about his being kidnapped and being
sold into slavery to a Mississippi planter on the Yazoo river. As
fortune would have it, the commander was a New England man and felt
indignant at the outrageous treatment the poor negro had received, and
assured Barrett that he would keep him in his employ at good wages
until he had opportunity to send him back to South Carolina, which he
did. About a year afterward the Barrett family received a letter from
Mr. Sanders telling of Reube's arrival home. John W. Barrett told me in
1854. the last time he was ever in Indiana, that after he left Reube at
Prince ton, he had no opportunity to get away to Evansville until about
the middle of the next day. He was making inquiry of some people if
they knew of any teams which were going to Evansville. Reube was very
fond of showing his gold certificate of freedom; finally two men told
him they were going to Evansville that evening, but they could not get
away before the middle of the afternoon and made an agreement that he
could go with them by cooking for them on the road and after they got
there. Reube readily agreed to this since they told him that they had
some thought of going to Tennessee.
They
finally started, and
after staying a day or so at Evansville. which was then only a small
place, they started on the Tennessee trip. They made it convenient to
go west in Tennessee and on to Memphis. They told Reube. to whom they
had been very kind, that in a day or so they would go to North
Carolina, and in doing so would pass near his home if he wanted to go
with them, but the next place they went to was the Yazoo river. There
they took Reube's gold plate and papers from him and sold him to the
planter with whom Barrett found him.
MONTGOMERY
TO
THE RESCUE.
Harvey
Montgomery was the
seventh child of Judge Isaac Montgomery, l was a young boy when I knew
him best and he was my ideal of an upright Christian gentleman. He
lived with his father at his home two miles southeast of Oakland City.
Indiana, until he married. He then settled on a quarter section, just
north of his father, where he spent his life. At one time Harvey and
Joseph, who was the third child of Judge Montgomery, and a hand working
for them named McDeeman. had two loads of produce, venison, hams, hides
and bear bacon, which they were taking to Robert Stockwell at
Princeton. Joseph at that time lived on what was afterward the Ridley
farm, about one-half mile west of his fathers. He was a very large man
and was known far and near as one of the strongest men, physically, who
ever lived in that section.
As
they were getting
within about two miles of Princeton, and after climbing a hill, they
stopped to let their ox teams rest, when they heard a loud noise as of
men in a wrangle. Joseph and McDeeman left Harvey with the teams and.
taking their guns, went to find out what the noise was about. When they
got to the parties making the noise, they found two Negroes handcuffed
together and a white man l>eating one of the Negroes with a heavy
stick.
Montgomery,
who was
fearless as strong, with McDeeman. rushed up to the place where the
trouble was and asked the man with the club what in "hades" he meant by
beating the man with such a bludgeon. There were two white men and one
of them became very insulting, telling Montgomery they were heating
their own property and it was none of his business. One of the Negroes
cried out. "Oh. that is Mr. Montgomery. Don't you know me? I am Pete
who kept your camp at the Bear's den."
Montgomery
did know him.
The bully had the club drawn back to hit Pete, when Montgomery leapt
like a panther and hit the fellow at the butt of the ear and completely
knocked him out. At this, the other kidnapper started to draw a large
knife, when McDeeman. who was a full fledged Irishman, raised his gun
and said. "On your worthless life don't move your hand. If you so much
as bat your eye. I will shoot it out of your head." They took the key
away from them, freed the Negroes, put the hand-cuffs on the
kidnappers, gave the two Negroes the clubs and marched the two men up
to the wagons and on into Princeton. Montgomery tried to have the
kidnappers put into jail until court would set. The old justice before
whom they brought their proceedings was thoroughly in sympathy with
slavery, and he virtually there made the same decision that Chief
Justice Taney did thirty years afterward. It was as follows
:
"There
is no evidence
that the two men kidnapped the Negroes, except the statement made by
the Negroes. The evidence of a negro has no force in court. which could
affect a white man."
They
were set at liberty.
They were so much elated over being freed from the charge that they
proceeded to till up with whisky and hunted up Montgomery and raised a
quarrel with him. but he gave both of them such a thrashing that they
were glad to get away.
ANOTHER
KIDNAPPING
OUTRAGE.
In
1822 two negro men
came to what is now the city of Princeton hunting for work. They hired
by Gen. William Embree to work on a farm two or three miles west of
Princeton that he owned. They were good hands and worked on the same
farm for two years. living in a small log cabin and doing their own
culinary work. One of the men could read and write and often borrowed
books to read from people in Princeton. When the work season was over
they put in most of their time in hunting for game which was very
abundant.
The
summer's work for the
second year was over and the men were gone hunting. One morning late in
the summer some one found tacked on the cabin door a short note saying
they had gone to the Ohio river to cut cord wood until the corn would
do to gather, and this was the last time they were ever seen on the
farm.
Some
years later General
Embree was in the city of New Orleans and found these two men working
on the levee rolling freight. They told him that two men whom they had
seen several times in Princeton, came to their cabin early in the
evening and handcuffed them and by daylight the next morning they were
at the Ohio river, which they crossed on a raft into Kentucky, going
down to Henderson. After waiting a few days a boat came and they were
carried to New Orleans where they were sold into slavery.
Mr.
Embree went to a
lawyer and told his story and had proceedings brought to liberate the
two Negroes. The investigation developed that they were sold into
slavery to James Lockwell by two men named Absalom Towel and Thomas
Slaven and they had for more than three years been the property of
Lockwell. As no complaint had been made during that time, the judge
refused to release them.
As
before stated, the
foregoing kidnapping stories are from Colonel Cock rum's Pioneer
History of Indiana. They are reproduced in this publication for the
purpose of preserving in a history of Gibson county a record of
outrages incident to slavery, perpetrated under the law. and sanctioned
by the courts of those states. These stories might be multiplied by the
score not only in Gibson county but in almost every county in the
state. Under the decision of the highest court a Negro had no rights
that a white man was was bound to respect, not even the right of
personal possession of himself after he had paid the price. The crimes
that were committed under the operation of the fugitive slave law.
crimes against justice and humanity and sanctioned by courts, higher
and lower, is a stain upon the pages of the nation's history, a stain
that required the blood of multiplied thousands of her best citizens to
erase, in the resulting civil war. Some of these crimes
were committed in Gibson county, and her citizens, in some measure,
were ready to give consent and encouragement to them. In a much larger
measure was demanded the blood of some of the best of her sons, as a
requital for the sins of the fathers.
Source:
History of Gibson
County, Indiana: her people, industries and institutions. Indianapolis,
Ind.: B.F. Bowen & Co., 1914.
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