Part 10 (1/2)
ISAAC FORMAN.
Another letter from Isaac. He is very gloomy and his heart is almost breaking about his wife.
SECOND LETTER.
TORONTO, May 7,1854.
MR. W. STILL:--_Dear Sir_--I take this opportunity of writing you these few lines and hope when they reach you they will find you well. I would have written you before, but I was waiting to hear from my friend, Mr. Brown. I judge his business has been of importance as the occasion why he has not written before. Dear sir, nothing would have prevented me from writing, in a case of this kind, except death.
My soul is vexed, my troubles are inexpressible. I often feel as if I were willing to die. I must see my wife in short, if not, I will die. What would I not give no tongue can utter. Just to gaze on her sweet lips one moment I would be willing to die the next. I am determined to see her some time or other. The thought of being a slave again is miserable. I hope heaven will smile upon me again, before I am one again. I will leave Canada again shortly, but I don't name the place that I go, it may be in the bottom of the ocean. If I had known as much before I left, as I do now, I would never have left until I could have found means to have brought her with me. You have never suffered from being absent from a wife, as I have. I consider that to be nearly superior to death, and hope you will do all you can for me, and inquire from your friends if nothing can be done for me. Please write to me immediately on receipt of this, and say something that will cheer up my drooping spirits. You will oblige me by seeing Mr. Brown and ask him if he would oblige me by going to Richmond and see my wife, and see what arrangements he could make with her, and I would be willing to pay all his expenses there and back. Please to see both Mr. Bagnel and Mr. Minkins, and ask them if they have seen my wife. I am determined to see her, if I die the next moment. I can say I was once happy, but never will be again, until I see her; because what is freedom to me, when I know that my wife is in slavery? Those persons that you s.h.i.+pped a few weeks ago, remained at St. Catherine, instead of coming over to Toronto. I sent you two letters last week and I hope you will please attend to them. The post-office is shut, so I enclose the money to pay the post, and please write me in haste.
I remain evermore your obedient servant,
I. FORMAN.
WILLIS REd.i.c.k.
He was owned by S.J. Wilson, a merchant, living in Portsmouth, Va.
Willis was of a very dark hue, thick set, thirty-two years of age, and possessed of a fair share of mind. The owner had been accustomed to hire Willis out for ”one hundred dollars a year.” Willis thought his lot ”pretty hard,” and his master rather increased this notion by his severity, and especially by ”threatening” to sell him. He had enjoyed, as far as it was expected for a slave to do, ”five months of married life,” but he loved slavery no less on this account. In fact he had just begun to consider what it was to have a wife and children that he ”could not own or protect,” and who were claimed as another's property.
Consequently he became quite restive under these reflections and his master's ill-usage, and concluded to ”look out,” without consulting either the master or the young wife.
This step looked exceedingly hard, but what else could the poor fellow do? Slavery existed expressly for the purpose of crus.h.i.+ng souls and breaking tender hearts.
WILLIAM DAVIS.
William might be described as a good-looking mulatto, thirty-one years of age, and capable of thinking for himself. He made no grave complaints of ill-usage under his master, ”Joseph Reynolds,” who lived at Newton, Portsmouth, Va. However, his owner had occasionally ”threatened to sell him.” As this was too much for William's sensitive feelings, he took umbrage at it and made a hasty and hazardous move, which resulted in finding himself on the U.G.R.R. The most serious regret William had to report to the Committee was, that he was compelled to ”leave” his ”wife,” Catharine, and his little daughter, Louisa, two years and one month, and an infant son seven months old. He evidently loved them very tenderly, but saw no way by which he could aid them, as long as he was daily liable to be put on the auction block and sold far South. This argument was regarded by the Committee as logical and unanswerable; consequently they readily endorsed his course, while they deeply sympathized with his poor wife and little ones. ”Before escaping,” he ”dared not” even apprise his wife and child, whom he had to leave behind in the prison house.
JOSEPH HENRY CAMP.