A Woman's Life-Work — Labors and Experiences of Laura S. Haviland. Laura S. Haviland
learn the state of that dear child's mind as he was about leaving the land of the dying for the spirit world of the living. He had been a living Christian, but during the year past had become more inactive, and in a conversation on the subject a few days previous to my leaving, he expressed regrets in not being more faithful. He urged me to take this trip, yet I could not but regret leaving home. "Oh my son, my son Harvey would to God I had died for thee!" In this distress, bordering upon agony of soul, I walked my room to and fro, praying for an evidence of his condition. In the conversation above alluded to he expressed a sincere desire to return.
Said he, "I am too much like the prodigal, too far away from my Savior." How vividly did his words come before me! Oh, how these words ran through my mind in this hour of sore trial. Is this the Isaac, I dwelt upon as I was leaving my home, that I may be called to sacrifice? I had in mind my son Daniel, who was fearful I would meet trouble from slave-holders, as he remarked to his brother Harvey, "Mother is a stranger to fear, though she might be in great danger."
"That fact, seems to me, secures her safety," replied Harvey.
As I overheard this conversation I shrank from the trial of leaving my home circle, in which death had made such inroads, and for the time being doubted whether I was called upon to make the sacrifice. But prayer was now constant for an evidence of my son's condition, whether prepared for exchange of worlds. He who spake peace to the troubled sea granted the answer of peace, with an assurance that my prayer was answered, and that in his own good time he would make it manifest.
I took the boat for Cincinnati, and on the morning after my arrival at the home of my valued friends, Levi Coffin and wife, I awoke with a comforting dream, which but for the circumstances I would not record. I find in the written Word of divine truth that God, at sundry times, made himself known to his faithful servants in dreams. And he is the same in all ages, in answering their petitions and meeting their wants. In the dream I thought I was living in the basement of a beautiful mansion. Being rather dark, damp, and cool, I looked for some means of warming my apartments, when I discovered the windows conveyed beautiful rays of sunlight sufficient to dry and warm apartments designed for only a temporary residence, as my future home was to be in the splendid apartments above, which I was not to be permitted to enter until the work assigned me in the basement was done. While busily engaged in sweeping my room, and arranging my work, I saw my son Harvey, descending from the upper portion of this limitless mansion, which I thought was now his home. I hastened to the door to meet him. As the thought struck me that he had been a slave, I cried out, "My son Harvey, art thou free?"
"Oh yes, mother, I am free; and I knew your anxiety, and I came on purpose to tell you that I went to my Master and asked if he would grant my pardon? And he looked upon me and saw me in my blood as I plowed in the field, and he said I should be free and live."
"Oh, what a relief is this glad news," I replied.
"I knew you desired me to go for my freedom long ago, but I did not know that my liberty would be so easily granted—just for asking. I am now free, indeed."
This message delivered, he ascended to his glorious home above. I awoke with the words of this message as clearly impressed upon my mind as if vocally spoken. I opened the Bible at the head of my bed, and the first words that met my eye were these: "I saw Ephraim cast out in the open field; I saw him in his blood, and I said live; and he shall live." With promises given by him with whom there is no variableness or shadow of turning, my heart was filled with praise and thanksgiving for the Comforter who grants peace such as the world knows not of. Very soon a letter came with the detailed account of the last hours of my son Harvey, in which he left a bright evidence of his preparation for the future life. He sent for Rev. John Patchin, of Raisin Institute, of whom he requested prayer; at the close of which he followed in fervent prayer for himself and loved ones. Then brother Patchin inquired if perfect peace was his at this hour? "It is," he answered; "I am ready to go," and he soon fell asleep in Jesus.
I remained a few weeks longer; but the close search for counterfeiters made it difficult for William Allen to cross.
The request was repeated by John White's wife for him to come for them. I returned home with the consciousness of having done all that I could in delivering the messages as requested. The husband and father could not feel reconciled to give up his family to a life of slavery, and went for them, and brought them a few miles on the Indiana side, above Rising Sun. They secreted themselves during the day in the woods, and with the aid of his friend and Solomon Stevens's slave, previously alluded to, who was also attempting to escape with the family, he made a raft upon which they were about to cross a creek to reach the team on the opposite side. Suddenly six armed men pounced upon them, and captured the family, with Solomon. To save John from the hazardous attempt to defend his family, his friend held him back in the thicket, knowing the effort must fail. As he was not allowed to move he sank back in despair in the arms of his friend. He had risked his own life and liberty in his attempt to rescue them. He learned that George W. Brazier swore he would chop him into inches if he ever got possession of him again. After his unsuccessful effort in Michigan he offered six hundred dollars for his head, dead or alive. Benjamin Stevens also offered six hundred dollars reward for his daughter and his five grandchildren, with Solomon. He afterwards sold them all for the very low price of one thousand dollars, with the proviso that they were not to be sold apart.
But poor Jane was not left long to grieve over her disappointed hopes. She died of cholera. We heard she went rejoicing in that hope that reaches beyond the vale. They were taken to Lexington, Kentucky, but the grieved husband and father again made his way northward. He was two weeks in reaching a settlement that was said to be friendly to fugitive slaves. Forty miles distant from his old Kentucky home he assumed the name of James Armstrong. The family upon whom he ventured to call appeared very kind, and the man told him he would take him the next day to a Quaker settlement, but he suspected he was reported to Wright Ray and posse, who came into the house and bound him. Placing him on one of their horses, they took him through fields and back roads until they crossed the Ohio river, and lodged him in the Woodford jail, a short distance from the river, nearly opposite Madison, Indiana. Wright Ray had no idea of having in his possession John White, who had so recently eluded his grasp in his unsuccessful trip with Brazier in Michigan. He found among his papers in which were advertisements of escaped slaves, Henry Armstrong advertised as belonging to the widow Armstrong, of Maysville, Kentucky. With her Wright Ray had an interview, hoping to arrange for the reward, which she refused to give, for he had been away so long, he would be of little use, as Henry was willed free at her death. But she told him if he could get enough from him to pay him for his trouble, he might do so. Consequently he made him an offer to release him for four hundred dollars, and encouraged him to write to his friends in Michigan to aid him to that amount. He wrote to a son-in-law of Mr. Watkins, so as not to mention a name of persons the men had to do with in Michigan, and the letter was brought to us. We all understood the writer to be our friend John White.
A few friends were consulted as to the measures to be adopted. It was proposed that I should go to Cincinnati, and there make such arrangements as the friends might think proper. As they proposed to bear my expenses, I said, "If you send me, I shall go to-morrow morning."
"But," replied the bearer of the letter, "as it is the Sabbath, I suppose I should hesitate."
"It was lawful on the Sabbath to lift a sheep out of the ditch in the days of Moses, and is not a man better than a sheep?"
"I can not answer you. All I have to say is, follow the dictates of your own conscience."
I took the stage at Toledo, and in three days I was consulting the vigilance committee in Levi Coffin's council chamber. As it would not do for me to transact business with Wright Ray, Micajah White, nephew of Catherine Coffin, offered to go as soon as the money was obtained. Levi Coffin introduced me to Dr. Judkins, of whom I hired the money, but hoped to lessen the amount if possible, in the arrangement with Wright Ray. I urged on the nephew the necessity of taking the first boat for Madison, as every hour endangered the safety of John White. Whatever was done for him must be done quickly. Wright Ray was found very willing to accept three hundred and fifty dollars, which was placed in the hands of the clerk of the boat until his prisoner was delivered to his friends in Cincinnati, when Micajah White