Part 11

He was conveyed to Maryland and lodged in jail. Several weeks after, he was taken thence and sold to a speculator, who was making up a coffle of slaves for the far South. After crossing the Susquehanna, they stopped at a miserable tavern, where the speculator and his companions drank pretty freely, and then began to amuse themselves by shooting at a mark. They placed the slave by the tavern door, where they could see him. While he sat there, thinking of his wife and children, feeling sad and forlorn beyond description, he noticed that a fisherman drew near the shore with a small boat, to which was fastened a rope and a heavy stone, to supply the place of an anchor. When he saw the man step out of the boat and throw the stone on the ground, Friend Hopper's parting advice instantly flashed through his mind. Hardship, scanty food, and above all, continual distress of mind, had considerably reduced his flesh. He looked at his emaciated hands, and thought it might be possible to slip them through his iron cuffs. He proceeded cautiously, and when he saw that his guard were too busy loading their pistols to watch him, he released himself from his irons by a violent effort, ran to the river, threw the stone anchor into the boat, jumped in, and pushed for the opposite shore. The noise attracted the attention of his guard, who threatened him with instant death if he did not return. They loaded their pistols as quickly as possible, and fired after him, but luckily missed their aim. James succeeded in reaching the opposite side of the river, where he set the boat adrift, lest some one should take it back and enable them to pursue him. He bent his course toward Philadelphia, and on arriving there, went directly to Friend Hopper's house. He had become so haggard and emaciated, that his friend could hardly believe it was James Davis who stood before him. He said he dared not go near his old home, and begged that some place might be provided where he could meet his wife and children in safety. This was accomplished, and Friend Hopper was present when the poor harassed fugitive was restored to his family. He described the scene as affecting beyond description. The children, some of whom were very small, twined their little arms round him, eagerly inquiring, "Where have you been? How did you get away?" and his wife sobbed aloud, while she hugged the lost one to her heart.

The next morning he was sent to Bucks County in a market wagon. Some friends there procured a small house for him, and his family soon joined him. He was enabled to earn a comfortable living, and his place of retreat was never afterward discovered by enemies of the human family.

MARY HOLLIDAY.

A very light mulatto girl, named Fanny, was slave to the widow of John Sears, in Maryland. When about twenty-four years old, she escaped to Philadelphia, and lived in the family of Isaac W. Morris, where she was known by the assumed name of Mary Holliday. She was honest, prudent, and industrious, and the family became much attached to her. She had not been there many months when her mistress obtained tidings of her, and went to Philadelphia, accompanied by a man named Dutton. She was arrested on the seventh of June, 1805, and taken before Matthew Lawler, who was then mayor. Isaac W. Morris immediately waited on Isaac T. Hopper to inform him of the circumstance, and they proceeded together to the mayor's office.

Dutton, being examined as a witness, testified that he knew a mulatto named Fanny, who belonged to Mrs. Sears, and he believed the woman present, called Mary Holliday, was that person. Mary denied that she was the slave of the claimant, or that her name was Fanny; but her agitation was very evident, though she tried hard to conceal it.

Friend Hopper remarked to the mayor, "This case requires testimony as strong as if the woman were on trial for her life, which is of less value than liberty. I object to the testimony as insufficient; for the witness cannot say positively that he knows she is the same person, but only that he believes so. Wouldst thou consider such evidence satisfactory in the case of a white person?"

The mayor who was not friendly to colored people, replied, "I should not; but I consider it sufficient in such cases as these."

"How dark must the complexion be, to justify thee in receiving such uncertain evidence?" inquired Friend Hopper.

The mayor pointed to the prisoner and said, "As dark as that woman."

"What wouldst thou think of such testimony in case of thy own daughter?" rejoined Friend Hopper. "There is very little difference between her complexion and that of the woman now standing before thee."

He made no reply, but over-ruled the objection to the evidence. He consented, however, to postpone the case three days, to give time to procure testimony in her favor.

Isaac W. Morris soon after called upon Friend Hopper and said, "Mary has acknowledged to us that her name is Fanny, and that she belongs to Mrs. Sears. My family are all very much attached to her, and they cannot bear the thought of her being carried away into slavery. I will advance three hundred dollars, if thou wilt obtain her freedom."

Friend Hopper accordingly called upon Mrs. Sears, and after stipulating that nothing said on either side should be made use of in the trial, he offered two hundred dollars for a deed of manumission. The offer was promptly rejected. After considerable discussion, three hundred and fifty dollars were offered; for it was very desirable to have the case settled without being obliged to resort to an expensive and uncertain process of law. Mrs. Sears replied, "It is in vain to treat with me on the subject; for I am determined not to sell the woman on any terms. I will take her back to Maryland, and make an example of her."

"I hope thou wilt find thyself disappointed," rejoined Friend Hopper. The slaveholder merely answered with a malicious smile, as if perfectly sure of her triumph.

Finding himself disappointed in his attempts to purchase the woman, Friend Hopper resolved to carry the case to a higher court, and accumulate as many legal obstructions as possible. For that purpose, he obtained a writ De homine replegiando, and when the suitable occasion arrived, he accompanied Mary Holliday to the mayor's office, with a deputy sheriff to serve the writ. When the trial came on, he again urged the insufficiency of proof brought by the claimant. The mayor replied, in a tone somewhat peremptory, "I have already decided that matter. I shall deliver the slave to her mistress."

Friend Hopper gave the sheriff a signal to serve the writ. He was a novice in the business, but in obedience to the instructions given him, he laid his hand on Mary's shoulder, and said, "By virtue of this writ, I replevin this woman, and deliver her to Mr. Hopper."

Her protector immediately said to her, "Thou canst now go home with me." But her mistress seized her by the arm, and said she should not go. The mayor was little acquainted with legal forms, beyond the usual routine of city business. He seemed much surprised, and inquired what the writ was.

"It is a homine replegiando," replied Friend Hopper.

"I don't understand what that means," said the mayor.

"It is none the less powerful on that account," rejoined Friend Hopper. "It has taken the woman out of thy power, and delivered her to another tribunal."

During this conversation, the mistress kept her grasp upon Mary. Friend Hopper appealed to the mayor, again repeating that the girl was now to await the decision of another court. He accordingly told Mrs. Sears it was necessary to let her go. She asked what was to be done in such a case. The mayor, completely puzzled, and somewhat vexed, replied impatiently, "I don't know. You must ask Mr. Hopper. His laws are above mine. I thought I knew something about the business; but it seems I don't."

Mary went home with her protector, and Mrs. Sears employed Alexander J. Dallas as counsel. The case was kept pending in the Supreme Court a long time; for no man understood better than Friend Hopper how to multiply difficulties. Mrs. Sears frequently attended, bringing witnesses with her from Maryland; which of course involved much trouble and expense. After several years, the trial came on; but it was found she had left some of her principal witnesses at home. Most of the forenoon was spent in disputes about points of law, and the admissibility of certain evidence. The court then adjourned to three in the afternoon.

Mrs. Sears was informed that even if the court adjudged Mary to be her slave, Friend Hopper would doubtless fail to produce her, and they would be compelled to go through another process to recover from him the penalty of the bond. She had become exceedingly weary of the law, the trouble and expense of which had far exceeded her expectations. She therefore instructed her lawyer to try to effect a compromise. Friend Hopper, being consulted for this purpose, offered to pay two hundred and fifty dollars for Mary if the claimant would pay the costs. She accepted the terms, well pleased to escape from further litigation.

When the court met in the afternoon, they were informed that the matter was settled; and the jury with consent of parties, rendered a verdict that Mary was free. By her own earnings, and donations from sympathizing friends, she gradually repaid Isaac W. Morris three hundred dollars toward the sum he had advanced for the expenses of her trial.

In his efforts to protect the rights and redress the wrongs of colored people, Friend Hopper had a zealous and faithful ally in Thomas Harrison, also a member of the Society of Friends. When recounting the adventures they had together, he used to say, "That name excites pleasant emotions whenever it occurs to me. I shall always reverence his memory. He was my precursor in Philadelphia, as the friend of the slave, and my coadjutor in scores of cases for their relief. His soul was always alive to the sufferings of his fellow creatures, and dipped into sympathy with the oppressed; not that idle sympathy that can be satisfied with lamenting their condition, and make no exertions for their relief; but sympathy, like the apostle's faith, manifesting itself in works, and extending its influence to all within its reach."

Thomas Harrison was a lively, bustling man, with a roguish twinkle in his eye, and a humorous style of talking. Some Friends, of more quiet temperaments than himself, thought he had more activity than was consistent with dignity. They reminded him that Mary sat still at the feet of Jesus, while Martha was "troubled about many things."

"All that is very well," replied Thomas; "but Mary would have had a late breakfast, after all, if it had not been for Martha."

From among various anecdotes in which Friend Harrison's name occurs, I select the following: