Mary had every reason to believe that she would never see George again; and although she confessed that the love she bore him was never transferred to her first husband, we can scarcely find fault with her for marrying Mr. Devenant. But the adherence of George Green to the resolution never to marry, unless to his Mary, is, indeed, a rare instance of the fidelity of man in the matter of love. We can but blush for our country’s shame, when we call to mind the fact, that while George and Mary Green, and numbers of other fugitives from American slavery, could receive protection from any of the governments of Europe, they could not in safety return to their own land until countless treasure, untold suffering and anguish, and the life blood of half a million men, had been paid as the price of the bondman’s chain.
CHAPTER V.
HOW SOL. JONES WAS LEFT.
I.
During the decade of the thirties, and for years afterward, there resided on an affluent of the Rappahannock, in Culpepper county, Virginia, one Solomon Jones. Mr. Jones was the inheritor of an estate with all that term would imply fifty years ago in the “Old Dominion”—numerous slaves, the F. F. V. idea of domination of race, and those false conceptions of right begotten of “chattel” ownership. Though naturally possessed of many excellent traits of character, he was harsh and unrelenting towards those who sustained to him the relation of property.
On the little stream running through his domain he had erected a grist mill for his own accommodation and the profit to be derived therefrom in doing the work of his neighbors, and in supplying adjacent towns with the product of his mill; for Solomon had business tact and push far beyond his surroundings and time.
The business of distributing his merchandise was entrusted to a mulatto named Sam, who traveled far and near in the discharge of his duties, and being a shrewd, intelligent fellow, was enabled to pick up much valuable information relative to the ways of the outside world.
The estate also possessed a blacksmith in the person of a stalwart negro, Peter, who rejoiced in no drop of Caucassian blood. The wife of each of these men was respectively the sister of the other, but Dinah, the wife of Sam, for some reason history has not recorded, was a free woman, and both families were childless. This fact was not at all pleasing to the owner of the plantation, and became the source of much annoyance and abuse as the master saw less and less prospect of replenishing his coffers from the sale or labor of a second generation.
Stung by the continued upbraidings and base advances of “Old Sol,” as Jones ultimately came to be called, the two families began seriously to discuss the propriety of emigrating Northward. The knowledge picked up by Sam now became available. He had heard much in his journeyings of the methods of escape, and the courses pursued, and having unlimited control of the teams about the mill and a general acquaintance for miles away was, consequently, deemed the proper person to direct the escape. Acting upon his advice the women quietly laid in such a stock of provisions as would suffice them for several days, together with so much of clothing as was deemed indispensable. Thus equipped, one Saturday night, in July, 1843, the men saddled two of the best horses on the plantation and with their wives mounted behind them set out and by daylight were far away among the mountains to the northwestward. A halt was made for the day in a secluded ravine where some pasturage was found, and again at night they pushed vigorously on, putting two nights of fleet travel between them and the plantation before their flight was discovered, as the master and family were absent and none other had thought of inquiring into their whereabouts.
On returning to his home on Monday, Mr. Jones learned of the absence of Peter from the smithy, Sam from his accustomed duties and the women from the cabins, and the conviction flashed upon him that he was minus three valuable pieces of property, and when the disappearance of his best horses was ascertained, his wrath knew no bounds. A plan of search was instituted, but before it was thoroughly organized, two or three more days had elapsed.
Meanwhile, the fugitives were making their way rapidly towards the Ohio river which they crossed with little difficulty a short distance below Wheeling, and were soon threading the hill country of Southeastern Ohio. Arriving in Harrison county after the lapse of some twenty days, they thought they might safely betake themselves to the more public highway and to daylight. Here was their mistake, for on the first day of this public exhibition of confidence, when a few miles north of Cadiz, they looked back and a short distance in the rear beheld “Ol’ Massa” and two or three men in pursuit. They betook themselves to the adjacent woods and all but Sam succeeded in escaping. He, poor fellow, was captured and lodged in jail at Cadiz whilst the pursuit of the others was continued, but in vain; for avoiding every human habitation and moving only under cover of night they pushed forward and reached the home of a Mr. Williams, a Quaker, residing near Massillon, where Sam’s wife learned of his capture, and bidding good-bye to the others, retraced her footsteps slowly to her Virginian home, expecting to find her husband. Not so however.