Part 13

The claimant did not make his appearance at the alderman's office. A warrant was obtained charging him and the sailor with having resisted an officer in the discharge of his duty. Isaac T. Hopper returned to the sloop with a constable and brought the two men before a magistrate to answer to this charge. They did not attempt to deny the truth of it, but tried to excuse themselves on the plea that they resisted an attempt to take away their property. Of course, this was of no avail, and they were obliged to enter into bonds for their appearance at court. Being strangers in the city, it was difficult to obtain bail, and there seemed to be no alternative but a prison. However, as there must unavoidably be considerable trouble and delay in procuring all the necessary evidence concerning the birth of the alleged slave, her friends agreed to dismiss them, if they would pay all expenses, give each of the officers five dollars, and manumit the girl. Under existing circumstances, they were glad to avail themselves of the offer; and so the affair was settled.

ZEKE.

A man by the name of Daniel Godwin, in the lower part of Delaware, made a business of buying slaves running; taking the risk of losing the small sums paid for them under such circumstances. In the year 1806, he purchased in this way a slave named Ezekiel, familiarly called Zeke. He went to Philadelphia, and called on Isaac T. Hopper; thinking if he knew where the man was, he would be glad to have his freedom secured on moderate terms. While they were talking together, a black man happened to walk in, and leaning on the counter looked up in Mr. Godwin's face all the time he was telling the story of his bargain. When he had done speaking, he said, "How do you do, Mr. Godwin? Don't you know me?"

The speculator answered that he did not.

"Then you don't remember a man that lived with your neighbor, Mr.----?" continued he.

Mr. Godwin was at first puzzled to recollect whom he meant; but when he had specified the time, and various other particulars, he said he did remember such a person.

"Well," answered the black man, "I am he; and I am Zeke's brother."

The speculator inquired whether he knew where he was.

He replied, "O yes, Mr. Godwin, I know where he is, well enough. But I'm sorry you've bought Zeke. You'll never make anything out of him. A bad speculation, Mr. Godwin."

"Why, what's the matter with Zeke?" asked the trader.

"O, these blacks come to Philadelphia and they get into bad company," replied he. "They are afraid to be seen in the day-time, and so they go prowling about in the night. I'm very sorry you've bought Zeke. He'll never do you one cent's worth of good. A bad speculation, Mr. Godwin."

The prospect seemed rather discouraging, and the trader said, "Come now, suppose you buy Zeke yourself? I'll sell him low."

"If I bought him, I should only have to maintain him into the bargain," replied the black man. "He's my brother, to be sure; but then he'll never be good for anything."

"Perhaps he would behave better if he was free," urged Mr. Godwin.

"That's the only chance there is of his ever doing any better," responded the colored man. "But I'm very doubtful about it. If I should make up my mind to give him a chance, what would you be willing to sell him for?"

The speculator named one hundred and fifty dollars.

"Poh! Poh!" exclaimed the other. "I tell you Zeke will never be worth a cent to you or anybody else. A hundred and fifty dollars, indeed!"

The parley continued some time longer, and the case seemed such a hopeless one, that Mr. Godwin finally agreed to take sixty dollars. The colored man went off, and soon returned with the required sum. Isaac T. Hopper drew up a deed of manumission, in which the purchaser requested him to insert that Zeke was now commonly called Samuel Johnson. The money was paid, and the deed signed with all necessary formalities. When the business was entirely completed, the colored man said, "Zeke is now free, is he?" When Mr. Godwin answered, "Yes," he turned to Friend Hopper and repeated the question: "Zeke is free, and nobody can take him; can they, Mr. Hopper? If he was here, he would be in no danger; would he?"

Friend Hopper replied, "Wherever Zeke may now be, I assure thee he is free."

Being thus assured, the black man made a low bow, and with a droll expression of countenance said, "I hope you are very well, Mr. Godwin. I am happy to see you, sir. I am Zeke!"

The speculator, finding himself thus outwitted, flew into a violent rage. He seized Zeke by the collar, and began to threaten and abuse him. But the colored man shook his fist at him, and said, "If you don't let me go, Mr. Godwin, I'll knock you down. I'm a free citizen of these United States; and I won't be insulted in this way by anybody."

Friend Hopper interfered between them, and Mr. Godwin agreed to go before a magistrate to have the case examined. When the particulars had been recounted, the magistrate answered, "You have been outwitted, sir. Zeke is now as free as any man in this room."

There was something so exhilarating in the consciousness of being his own man, that Zeke began to "feel his oats," as the saying is. He said to the magistrate, "May it please your honor to grant me a warrant against Mr. Godwin? He violently seized me by the collar; thus committing assault and battery on a free citizen of these United States."

Friend Hopper told him he had better be satisfied with that day's work, and let Mr. Godwin go home. He yielded to this expostulation, though he might have made considerable trouble by insisting upon retaliation.

POOR AMY.

A Frenchman named M. Bouilla resided in Spring Garden, Philadelphia, in the year 1806. He and a woman, who had lived with him some time, had in their employ a mulatto girl of nine years old, called Amy. Dreadful stories were in circulation concerning their cruel treatment to this child; and compassionate neighbors had frequently solicited Friend Hopper's interference. After a while, he heard they were about to send her into the country; and fearing she might be sold into slavery, he called upon M. Bouilla to inquire whither she was going. As soon as he made known his business, the door was unceremoniously slammed in his face and locked. A note was then sent to the Frenchman, asking for a friendly interview; but he returned a verbal answer. "Tell Mr. Hopper to mind his own business."

Considering it his business to protect an abused child, he applied to a magistrate for a warrant, and proceeded to the house, accompanied by his friend Thomas Harrison and a constable. As soon as they entered the door, M. Bouilla ran up-stairs, and arming himself with a gun, threatened to shoot whoever advanced toward him. Being blind, however, he could only point the gun at random in the direction of their voices, or of any noise which might reach his ear. The officer refused to attempt his arrest under such peril; saying, he was under no obligation to risk his life. Friend Hopper expostulated with the Frenchman, explained the nature of their errand, and urged him to come down and have the matter inquired into in an amicable way. But he would not listen, and persisted in swearing he would shoot the first person who attempted to come near him. At last, Friend Hopper took off his shoes, stepped up-stairs very softly and quickly, and just as the Frenchman became aware of his near approach, he seized the gun and held it over his shoulder. It discharged instantly, and shattered the plastering of the stairway, making it fly in all directions. There arose a loud cry, "Mr. Hopper's killed! Mr. Hopper's killed!"

The gun being thus rendered harmless, the Frenchman was soon arrested, and they all proceeded to the magistrate's office, accompanied by several of the neighbors. There was abundant evidence that the child had been half starved, unmercifully beaten, and tortured in various ways. Indeed, she was such a poor, emaciated, miserable looking object, that her appearance was of itself enough to prove the cruel treatment she had received. When the case had been fully investigated, the magistrate ordered her to be consigned to the care of Isaac T. Hopper, who hastened home with her, being anxious lest his wife should accidentally hear the rumor that he had been shot.