Charles Thompson,

CARRIER OF “THE NATIONAL AMERICAN,” OFF FOR CANADA.

The subjoined “pass” was brought to the Underground Rail Road station in Philadelphia by Charles, and while it was interesting as throwing light upon his escape, it is important also as a specimen of the way the “pass” system was carried on in the dark days of Slavery in Virginia:

“NAT. AMERICAN OFFICE,

Richmond, July 20th, 1857.

Permit Charles to pass and repass from this office to the residence of Rev B. Manly’s on Clay St., near 11th, at any hour of the night for one month.

WM. W. HARDWICK.”

It is a very short document, but it used to be very unsafe for a slave in Richmond, or any other Southern city, to be found out in the evening without a legal paper of this description. The penalties for being found unprepared to face the police were fines, imprisonment and floggings. The satisfaction it seemed always to afford these guardians of the city to find either males or females trespassing in this particular, was unmistakable. It gave them (the police) the opportunity to prove to those they served (slaveholders), that they were the right men in the right place, guarding their interests. Then again they got the fine for pocket money, and likewise the still greater pleasure of administering the flogging. Who would want an office, if no opportunity should turn up whereby proof could be adduced of adequate qualifications to meet emergencies? But Charles was too wide awake to be caught without his pass day or night. Consequently he hung on to it, even after starting on his voyage to Canada. He, however, willingly surrendered it to a member of the Committee at his special request.

But in every way Charles was quite a remarkable man. It afforded the Committee great pleasure to make his acquaintance, and much practical and useful information was gathered from his story, which was felt to be truthful.

The Committee feeling assured that this “chattel” must have been the subject of much inquiry and anxiety from the nature of his former position, as a prominent piece of property, as a member of the Baptist church, as taking “first premiums” in making tobacco, and as a paper carrier in the National American office, felt called upon to note fully his movements before and after leaving Richmond.

In stature he was medium size, color quite dark, hair long and bushy—rather of a raw-boned and rugged appearance, modest and self-possessed; with much more intelligence than would be supposed from first observation. On his arrival, ere he had “shaken hands with the (British) Lion’s paw,” (which he was desirous of doing), or changed the habiliments in which he escaped, having listened to the recital of his thrilling tale, and wishing to get it word for word as it flowed naturally from his brave lips, at a late hour of the night a member of the Committee remarked to him, with pencil in hand, that he wanted to take down some account of his life. “Now,” said he, “we shall have to be brief. Please answer as correctly as you can the following questions:” “How old are you?” “Thirty-two years old the 1st day of last June.” “Were you born a slave?” “Yes.” “How have you been treated?” “Badly all the time for the last twelve years.” “What do you mean by being treated badly?” “Have been whipped, and they never give me anything; some people give their servants at Christmas a dollar and a half and two dollars, and some five, but my master would never give me anything.” “What was the name of your master?” “Fleming Bibbs.” “Where did he live?” “In Caroline county, fifty miles above Richmond.” “What did he do?” “He was a farmer.” “Did you ever live with him?” “Never did; always hired me out, and then I couldn’t please him.” “What kind of a man was he?” “A man with a very severe temper; would drink at all times, though would do it slyly.” “Was he a member of any church?” “Baptist church—would curse at his servants as if he wern’t in any church.” “Were his family members of church, too?” “Yes.” “What kind of family had he?” “His wife was a tolerable fair woman, but his sons were dissipated, all of them rowdies and gamblers. His sons has had children by the servants. One of his daughters had a child by his grandson last April. They are traders, buy and sell.”

“How many slaves did he own?” “Sam, Richmond, Henry, Dennis, Jesse, Addison, Hilliard, Jenny, Lucius, Julia, Charlotte, Easte, Joe, Taylor, Louisa, two more small children and Jim.” Did any of them know that you were going to leave? “No, I saw my brother Tuesday, but never told him a word about it.” “What put it into your head to leave?” “It was bad treatment; for being put in jail for sale the 7th of last January; was whipped in jail and after I came out the only thing they told me was that I had been selling newspapers about the streets, and was half free.”

“Where did you live then?” “In Richmond, Va.; for twenty-two years I have been living out.” “How much did your master receive a year for your hire?” “From sixty-five to one hundred and fifty dollars.” “Did you have to find yourself?” “The people who hired me found me. The general rule is in Richmond, for a week’s board, seventy-five cents is allowed; if he gets any more than that he has got to find it himself.” “How about Sunday clothing?” “Find them yourself?” “How about a house to live in?” “Have that to find yourself.” “Suppose you have a wife and family.” “It makes no difference, they don’t allow you anything for that at all.” “Suppose you are sick who pays your doctor’s bill?” “He (master) pays that.” “How do you manage to make a little extra money?” “By getting up before day and carrying out papers and doing other jobs, cleaning up single men’s rooms and the like of that.” “What have you been employed at in Richmond?” “Been working in tobacco factory in general; this year I was hired at a printing-office. The National American. I carried papers.” “Had you a wife?” “I did, but her master was a very bad man and was opposed to me, and was against my coming to his place to see my wife, and he persuaded her to take another husband in preference to me; being in his hands she took his advice.” “How long ago was that?” “Very near twelve months; she got married last fall.” “Had you any children?” “Yes.” “How many?” “Five.” “Where are they?” “Three are with Joel Luck, her master, one with his sister Eliza, and the other belongs to Judge Hudgins, of Bowling Green Court House.” “Do you ever expect to see them again?” “No, not till the day of the Great I am!” “Did you ever have any chance of schooling?” “Not a day in my life.” “Can you read?” “No, sir, nor write my own name.” “What do you think of Slavery any how?” “I think it’s a great curse, and I think the Baptists in Richmond will go to the deepest hell, if there is any, for they are so wicked they will work you all day and part of the night, and wear cloaks and long faces, and try to get all the work out of you they can by telling you about Jesus Christ. All the extra money you make they think you will give to hear talk about Jesus Christ. Out of their extra money they have to pay a white man Five hundred dollars a year for preaching.” “What kind of preaching does he give them?” “He tells them if they die in their sins they will go to hell; don’t tell them any thing about their elevation; he would tell them obey their masters and mistresses, for good servants make good masters.” “Did you belong to the Baptist Church?” “Yes, Second Baptist Church.” “Did you feel that the preaching you heard was the true Gospel?” “One part of it, and one part burnt me as bad as ever insult did. They would tell us that we must take money out of our pockets to send it to Africa, to enlighten the African race. I think that we were about as blind in Richmond as the African race is in Africa. All they want you to know, is to have sense enough to say master and mistress, and run like lightning, when they speak to you, to do exactly what they want you to do,” “When you made up your mind to escape, where did you think you would go to?” “I made up my mind not to stop short of the British protection; to shake hands with the Lion’s paw.” “Were you not afraid of being captured on the way, of being devoured by the abolitionists, or of freezing and starving in Canada?” “Well, I had often thought that I would be in a bad condition to come here, without money and clothes, but I made up my mind to come, live or die.” “What are your impressions from what little you have seen of Freedom?” “I think it is intended for all men, and all men ought to have it.” “Suppose your master was to appear before you, and offer you the privilege of returning to Slavery or death on the spot, which would be your choice?” “Die right there. I made up my mind before I started.” “Do you think that many of the slaves are anxious about their Freedom?” “The third part of them ain’t anxious about it, because the white people have blinded them, telling about the North,—they can’t live here; telling them that the people are worse off than they are there; they say that the ‘niggers’ in the North have no houses to live in, stand about freezing, dirty, no clothes to wear. They all would be very glad to get their time, but want to stay where they are.” Just at this point of the interview, the hour of midnight admonished us that it was time to retire. Accordingly, said Mr. Thompson, “I guess we had better close,” adding, if he “could only write, he could give seven volumes!” Also, said he, “give my best respects to Mr. W.W. Hardwicke, and Mr. Perry in the National American office, and tell them I wish they will pay the two boys who carry the papers for me, for they are as ignorant of this matter as you are.”

Charles was duly forwarded to Canada to shake hands with the Lion’s paw, and from the accounts which came from him to the Committee, he was highly delighted. The following letter from him afforded gratifying evidence, that he neither forgot his God nor his friends in freedom:

DETROIT, Sept. 17, 1862.

DEAR BROTHER IN CHRIST—It affords me the greatest pleasure imaginable in the time I shall occupy in penning these few lines to you and your dear loving wife, not because I can write them to you myself, but for the love and regard I have for you, for I never can forget a man who will show kindness to his neighbor when in distress. I remember when I was in distress and out of doors, you took me in; I was hungry, and you fed me; for these things God will reward you, dear brother. I am getting along as well as I can expect. Since I have been out here, I have endeavored to make every day tell for itself, and I can say, no doubt, what a great many men cannot say, that I have made good use of all the time that God has given me, and not one week has been spent in idleness. Brother William, I expect to visit you some time next summer to sit and have a talk with you and Mrs. Still. I hope to see that time, if it is God’s will. You will remember me, with my wife, to Mrs. Still. Give my best respects to all inquiring friends, and believe me to be yours forever. Well wishes both soul and body. Please write to me sometimes.

C.W. THOMPSON.