Isaac T. Hopper: A True Life

by Lydia Maria Child

This lonely old worshipper once had an intimate friend, who for a long time was his only companion in the silent meeting. At the close, they shook hands and walked off together, enjoying a kindly chat on their way home. Unfortunately, some difficulty afterward occurred between them, which completely estranged them from each other. Both still clung to their old place of worship. They took their accustomed seats, and remained silent for a couple of hours; but they parted without shaking hands, or speaking a single word. This alienation almost broke the old man's heart. After awhile, he lost even, this shadow of companionship, and there remained only "the voice within," and echoes of memory from the empty benches.

While Mr. Hopper remained in Charleston, he went to the Quaker meeting-house every Sunday, and rarely found any one there except the persevering old Friend, who often invited him to go home with him. He seemed to take great satisfaction in talking with him about his father, and listening to what he had heard him say concerning the Society of Friends. When the farewell hour came, he was much affected; for he felt it not likely they would ever meet again; and the conversation of the young stranger had formed a link between him and the Quakerism he loved so well. The old man continued to sit alone under the preacher's gallery till the house took fire and was burned to the ground. He died soon after that event, at a very advanced age.

Another incident, which occurred during Mr. Hopper's stay in Charleston, seemed exceedingly trivial at the time, but came very near producing fatal consequences. One day, when a clergyman whom he visited was showing him his library, he mentioned that his father had quite an antiquarian taste for old documents connected with the Society of Friends. At parting, the clergyman gave him several pamphlets for his father, and among them happened to be a tract published by Friends in Philadelphia, describing the colony at Sierra Leone, and giving an account of the slave trade on the coast of Africa. He put the pamphlets in his trunk, and started for Savannah, where he arrived on the twenty-eighth of January. At the City Hotel, he unfortunately encountered a marshal of the city of New-York, who was much employed in catching runaway slaves, and of course sympathized with slaveholders. He pointed the young stranger out, as a son of Isaac T. Hopper, the notorious abolitionist. This information kindled a flame immediately, and they began to discuss plans of vengeance. The traveller, not dreaming of danger, retired to his room soon after supper. In a few minutes, his door was forced open by a gang of intoxicated men, escorted by the New-York marshal. They assailed him with a volley of blasphemous language, struck him, kicked him, and spit in his face. They broke open and rifled his trunk, and searched his pockets for abolition documents. When they found the harmless little Quaker tract about the colony at Sierra Leone, they screamed with exultation. They shouted, "Here is what we wanted! Here is proof of abolitionism!" Some of them rushed out and told the mob, who crowded the bar-room and entries, that they had found a trunk full of abolition tracts. Others seized Mr. Hopper violently, telling him to say his last prayers, and go with them. The proprietor of the City Hotel was very naturally alarmed for the safety of the building. He was in a great passion, and conjured them to carry their victim down forthwith; saying he could do nothing with the mob below, who were getting very impatient waiting for him. Turning to Mr. Hopper, he said, "Young man, you are in a very unfortunate situation. You ought never to have left your home. But it is your own doing; and you deserve your fate." When appealed to for protection, he exclaimed, "Good God! you must not appeal to me. This is a damned delicate business. I shall not be able to protect my own property. But I will go for the mayor."

One of the bar-keeper's confidential friends sent him a slip of paper, on which was written, "His only mode of escape is by the window;" and the bar-keeper, who had previously shown himself decidedly unfriendly, urged him again and again to profit by this advice. He occupied the third story, and the street below his window was thronged with an infuriated mob, thirsting and clamoring for his blood. In view of these facts, it seems not very uncharitable to suppose that the advice was given to make sure of his death, apparently by his own act, and thus save the city of Savannah from the disgrace of the deed. Of the two terrible alternatives, he preferred going down-stairs into the midst of the angry mob, who were getting more and more maddened by liquor, having taken forcible possession of the bar. He considered his fate inevitable, and had made up his mind to die. But at the foot of the stairs, he was met by the mayor and several aldermen, whose timely arrival saved his life. After asking some questions, and receiving the assurance that he came to Savannah solely on commercial business, the magistrates accompanied Mr. Hopper to his room, and briefly examined his books and papers. The mayor then went down and addressed the mob, assuring them that he should be kept in custody during the night; that strict investigation should be made, and if there was the slightest evidence of his being an abolitionist, he should not be suffered to go at large. The mayor and a large body of civil officers accompanied the prisoner to the guard-house, and a number of citizens volunteered their services, to strengthen the escort; but all their efforts scarcely sufficed to keep him from the grasp of the infuriated multitude. He was placed in a noisome cell, to await his trial, and the customary guard was increased for his protection. Portions of the mob continued howling round the prison all night, and the mayor was sent for several times to prevent their bursting in. A gallows was erected, with a barrel of feathers and a tub of tar in readiness under it, that they might amuse themselves with their victim before they murdered him.

Next morning, at five o'clock, the prisoner was brought before the mayor for further examination. Many of the mob followed him to the door of the office to await the issue. The evidence was satisfactory that he belonged to no anti-slavery society, and that his business in Savannah had no connection whatever with that subject. As for the pamphlet about Sierra Leone, the mayor said he considered that evidence in his favor; because it was written in support of colonization. Before the examination closed, there came a driving rain, which dispersed the mob lying in wait round the building. Aided by this lucky storm their destined victim passed out without being observed. At parting, the mayor said to him, "Young man, you may consider it a miracle that you have escaped with your life."

He took refuge on board the ship Angelique, bound for New-York, and was received with much kindness and sympathy by Captain Nichols, the commander. There was likewise a sailor on board, who happened to be one of the many that owed a debt of gratitude to Friend Hopper; and he swore he would shoot anybody that attempted to harm his son. In a short time, a messenger came from the mayor to announce that the populace had discovered where Mr. Hopper was secreted, and would probably attack the vessel. In this emergency, the captain behaved nobly toward his hunted fellow-citizen. He requested him to lie down flat in the bottom of a boat, which he himself entered and conducted to a brig bound for Providence. The captain was a New-England man, but having been long engaged in Southern trade, his principles on the subject of slavery were adapted to his interest. He gave the persecuted young traveller a most ungracious reception, and said if he thought he was an abolitionist he would send him directly back to Savannah. However, the representations of Captain Nichols induced him to consent that he should be put on board. They had a tedious passage of thirty-five days, during which there was a long and violent storm, that seemed likely to wreck the vessel. The mob had robbed Mr. Hopper of his money and clothing. He had no comfortable garments to shield him from the severe cold, and his hands and feet were frozen. At last, he arrived at Providence, and went on board the steamer Benjamin Franklin, bound for New-York. There he had the good fortune to meet with a colored waiter, whose father had been redeemed from slavery by Friend Hopper's exertions. He was assiduously devoted to the son of his benefactor, and did everything in his power to alleviate his distressed condition.

When the traveller arrived at his home, he was so haggard and worn down with danger and fatigue, that his family scarcely recognized him. His father was much excited and deeply affected, when he heard what perils he had gone through merely on account of his name. He soon after addressed the following letter to the mayor of Savannah:

"New-York, 4th month, 18th, 1836.

"Friend,

"My object in addressing thee is to express my heartfelt gratitude for thy exertions in saving the life of my son, which I have cause to believe was in imminent peril, from the violence of unreasonable men, while in your city a few weeks ago. I am informed that very soon after his arrival in Savannah, the fact became known to a marshal of this city, who was then there, and who, by his misrepresentations, excited the rabble to a determination to perpetrate the most inhuman outrage upon him, and in all probability to take his life; and that preparations were made, which, if carried into effect, would doubtless have produced that result.