A Woman's Life-Work — Labors and Experiences of Laura S. Haviland. Laura S. Haviland
excited hostess became calm, and quite social, and made excuses for having to look after the cooking of her turkey, as she allowed her cook to spend this Sabbath with her husband in visiting one of their friends. "And I always burn and blister my hands whenever I make an attempt at cooking. But my cook is so faithful I thought I would let her go today."
As I gave up the idea of seeing William Allen, I was about to go to the wharf-boat and wait there for the five o'clock boat. But she urged me to take dinner with them, as I would have plenty of time. After dinner they directed me across a pasture-field that would shorten the half-mile. Just out of sight of the house I met William Allen, with his wife and little girl of ten years. As they were so well described by John—or Felix, as he was here known—I recognized them, and gave the message from their friend, from whom they rejoiced to hear. He said he longed to be free, and thought two weeks from that day he could go over to Samuel Barkshire's to see me. During this time he would deliver the message to Jane. At present, he said, it would be very difficult crossing, as there was great excitement over men that passed a lot of counterfeit money in that neighborhood, and they were watching for them. I told him it was not safe for us to talk longer there, as they were slaves, and I was not free to be seen talking with them, and gave them the parting hand, informing them that many prayers of Christian people of the North were daily ascending for the deliverance of the slave. "May God grant the answer!" was the heartfelt reply.
During the two weeks Mary Scott was introduced, who had recently bought herself, with her free husband's aid. She related to me the sad condition of her sister, Rachel Beach, who was the slave of Mr. Ray, the brother of Wright Ray, of Madison, Indiana, the noted negro catcher. She was the kept mistress of her master, who held her and her five children, who were his own flesh and blood, as his property. After her sister Rachel's religious experience, she was much distressed over the life she was compelled to lead with her master. She had often wept with her weeping sister. When she thought of escaping, she could not leave her five little children to her own sad fate. As I was informed that Mary Scott was a reliable Christian woman, I gave her a plan, and names of persons and places of safety, with a charge not to stop over the second night—if possible, to avoid it—at the first place named; for it was too near her master's brother, Wright Ray, as he would make great efforts to retake them.
This plan was adopted. But they were kept two days at Luther Donald's station, which brought them into great difficulty. He was so well known as the slave's friend it was unsafe to secrete fugitives on his own premises; and he placed them in an out-house of one of his friends. On the second night of their flight, when they were to be taken to the next station, Wright Ray was on their track, and entered the neighborhood at dark twilight, filling it with excitement on the part of both friends and foes. The cry of a child brought a neighbor to their hiding-place, who told her she was unsafe; but he would take her and the children to his barn, where they would be perfectly secure. Soon after her new friend left her she felt in great danger, and when her children were asleep in their bed of stalls she ventured to place herself by the road-side. Here she heard horses coming, and listened to hear the voice of their riders, to see if she could recognize her first friends, as they had told her they were going to take them to another place of safety that night; but, to her grief, she heard the voice of Wright Ray, with his posse. Filled with fear of capture, she groped her way still farther back in the dark. After her pursuers passed she heard two men coming, in low conversation. She prayed for direction, and felt impressed, as she said, to tell these men her trouble. They proved to be her friends, who missed them as they went to take their suppers. As Ray and his company were known to be in town, they knew not but they were captured. Runners were sent to the usual resorts of slave-hunters, to see if any clew could be learned of the fate of the missing family.
"O, how I prayed God to deliver me in this my great distress!" she said, in relating her flight in my interview with her in Canada. She led her two friends to the barn, from whence her sleeping children were removed; but by the time they reached the road they saw the lantern, and heard rustling of stalks by her pursuers. As her new friend was a well-known friend to slave-hunters, she and her children were still in great danger. She was dressed in men's clothing, and her girls dressed like boys, and they were taken out in different directions. Rachel and the youngest child her guide took to a Quaker neighborhood, while two men took each two girls on their horses and took different roads to other places of safety; but no two of the three parties knew of the others' destination. Two days of distressing anxiety were passed before a word reached the mother from her children. Not knowing but they were back to their old Kentucky home, she could neither eat nor sleep for weeping and praying over the probable loss of her children. But her joy could not find expression when two of them were brought to her. At first sight of her darlings, she cried out, "Glory to God! he has sent me two more. But where, O, where are the other two?" The two men who brought these in their close carriage could give no tidings, as they had heard nothing from them since leaving Donald Station. Rachel continued weeping for her children because they were not. On the following day they were heard from, and that they would be brought on the following day, P. M.
A number of the neighbors were invited to witness the meeting. Among them was a strong pro-slavery man and his family, who had often said the abolitionists might as well come to his barn and steal his horse or wheat as to keep slave-holders out of their slave property; yet he was naturally a sympathetic man. This Quaker abolitionist knew it would do him good to witness the anticipated scene. The knowledge of the prospective arrival of the children was carefully kept from the mother until she saw them, coming through the gate, when she cried aloud, as she sank on the floor, "Glory; hallelujah to the Lamb! You sent me all." She sobbed as she clasped them to her bosom, continuing, in an ecstasy, "Bless the Lord forever! He is so good to poor me." The little girls threw their arms around their mother's neck, and burst into a loud cry for joy. "But the weeping was not confined to them," said our Quaker sister, who was present. "There was not a dry eye in that house; and our pro-slavery neighbor cried as hard as any of us."
After the excitement died away a little, said one, "Now, we must adopt a plan to take this family on to Canada."
The pro-slavery man was the first to say, "I'll take my team, and take them where they'll be safe, if I have to take them all the way."
Another said, "It is cold weather, and we see these children have bare feet; and we must see about getting them stockings and shoes and warm clothing."
And the little daughter of him who had so generously offered his services in aiding this family beyond the reach, of danger sat down on the carpet and commenced taking off hers, saying, "She can have mine."
"But, Lotty, what will you do?" said the mother.
"O, papa can get me some more."
"Yes, papa will get you some more," said her father, wiping his eyes; "and your shoes and stockings will just fit that little girl." And the mother could hardly keep her from leaving them. But she told her to wear them home and put others on, then bring them back.
Said our informant, "I will warrant that man will hereafter become a stockholder."
But the rescue of the Beach family cost Luther Donald his farm. He was sued and found guilty of harboring runaway slaves and assisting them to escape. But not one sentence of truthful evidence was brought against him in court; although he did aid the Beach family when a stay of three minutes longer in their dangerous hiding-place would have secured their return to a life of degradation. Friends of the fugitive made up the loss in part, and the God of the oppressed blessed him still more abundantly. He was diligent in business, serving the Lord.
While rejoicing over the safe arrival of the Beach family in Canada, heavy tidings reached me from home. In a letter I was informed of the illness of my eldest son. Before the boat arrived that was to bear me homeward a second letter came with the sad intelligence of the death of my first-born. Oh, how my poor heart was wrung with anxiety to learn the state of his mind as he left the shores of time. Why did not the writer relieve me by giving the information I most needed? And yet I was advised to remain until the weather became more mild. I had a severe cough that followed an attack of pneumonia, and physicians had advised me to spend the Winter in a milder climate. But this bereavement seemed impelling me to return to my afflicted children. But more than all other considerations was