"I soon discovered the poor man. He had taken refuge under the prow of another boat, and was standing in the water up to his waist. The angry vociferation of his pursuers, did not intimidate him. He defied them all. 'Don't you dare to come near me, or I will sink you in the river.' He was armed with despair. For a moment the mob was palsied by the energy of his threatenings. They were afraid to go to him with a skiff, but a number of them went on to the boat and tried to seize him. They threw a noose rope down repeatedly, that they might pull him up by the neck! but he planted his hand firmly against the boat and dashed the rope away with his arms. One of them took a long bar of wood, and leaning over the prow, endeavored to strike him on the head, The blow must have shattered the skull, but it did not reach low enough. The monster raised up the heavy club again and said, 'Come out now, you old rascal, or die.' 'Strike,' said the negro; 'strike—shiver my brains now; I want to die;' and down went the club again, without striking. This was repeated several times. The mob, seeing their efforts fruitless, became more enraged and threatened to stone him, if he did not surrender himself into their hands. He again defied them, and declared that he would drown himself in the river, before they should have him. They then resorted to persuasion, and promised they would not hurt him. 'I'll die first;' was his only reply. Even the furious mob was awed, and for a while stood dumb.
"After standing in the cold water for an hour, the miserable being began to fail. We observed him gradually sinking—his voice grew weak and tremulous—yet he continued to curse! In the midst of his oaths he uttered broken sentences—'I did'nt steal the meat—I did'nt steal—my master lives—master—master lives up the river—(his voice began to gurgle in his throat, and he was so chilled that his teeth chattered audibly)—I did'nt—steal—I did'nt steal—my—my master—my—I want to see my master—I didn't—no—my mas—you want—you want to kill me—I didn't steal the'—His last words could just be heard as be sunk under the water.
"During this indescribable scene, not one of the hundred that stood around made any effort to save the man until he was apparently drowned. He was then dragged out and stretched on the bow of the boat, and soon sufficient means were used for his recovery. The brutal captain ordered him to be taken off his boat—declaring, with an oath, that he would throw him into the river again, if he was not immediately removed. I withdrew, sick and horrified with this appalling exhibition of wickedness.
"Upon inquiry, I learned that the colored man lived some fifty miles up the Mississippi; that he had been charged with stealing some article from the wharf; was fired upon with a pistol, and pursued by the mob.
"In reflecting upon this unmingled cruelty—this insensibility to suffering and disregard of life—I exclaimed,
'Is there no flesh in man's obdurate heart?'
"One poor man, chased like a wolf by a hundred blood hounds, yelling, howling, and gnashing their teeth upon him—plunges into the cold river to seek protection! A crowd of spectators witness the scene, with all the composure with which a Roman populace would look upon a gladiatorial show. Not a voice heard in the sufferer's behalf. At length the powers of nature give way; the blood flows back to the heart—the teeth chatter—the voice trembles and dies, while the victim drops down into his grave.
"What an atrocious system is that which leaves two millions of souls, friendless and powerless—hunted and chased—afflicted and tortured and driven to death, without the means of redress.—Yet such is the system of slavery."
The 'public opinion' of slaveholders is illustrated by scores of announcements in southern papers, like the following, from the Raleigh, (N.C.) Register, August 20, 1838. Joseph Gale and Son, editors and proprietors—the father and brother of the editor of the National Intelligence, Washington city, D.C.
"On Saturday night, Mr. George Holmes, of this county, and some of his friends, were in pursuit of a runaway slave (the property of Mr. Holmes) and fell in with him in attempting to make his escape. Mr. H. discharged a gun at his legs, for the purpose of disabling him; but unfortunately, the slave stumbled, and the shot struck him near the small of the back, of which wound he died in a short time. The slave continued to run some distance after he was shot, until overtaken by one of the party. We are satisfied, from all that we can learn, that Mr. H. had no intention of inflicting a mortal wound."