Escape from “A Worthless Sot”

John was a prisoner of hope under James Ray, of Portsmouth, Va., whom he declared to be “a worthless sot.” This character was fully set forth, but the description is too disgusting for record. John was a dark mulatto, thirty-one years of age, well-formed and intelligent. For some years before escaping he had been in the habit of hiring his time for $120 per annum. Daily toiling to support his drunken and brutal master, was a hardship that John felt keenly, but was compelled to submit to up to the day of his escape.

A part of John’s life he had suffered many abuses from his oppressor, and only a short while before freeing himself, the auction-block was held up before his troubled mind. This caused him to take the first daring step towards Canada,—to leave his wife, Mary, without bidding her good-bye, or saying a word to her as to his intention of fleeing.

John came as a private passenger on one of the Richmond steamers, and was indebted to the steward of the boat for his accommodations. Having been received by the Committee, he was cared for and sent on his journey Canada-ward. There he was happy, found employment and wanted for nothing but his wife and clothing left in Virginia. On these two points he wrote several times with considerable feeling.

Some slaves who hired their time in addition to the payment of their monthly hire, purchased nice clothes for themselves, which they usually valued highly, so much so, that after escaping they would not be contented until they had tried every possible scheme to secure them. They would write back continually, either to their friends in the North or South, hoping thus to procure them.

Not unfrequently the persons who rendered them assistance in the South, would be entrusted with all their effects, with the understanding, that such valuables would be forwarded to a friend or to the Committee at the earliest opportunity. The Committee strongly protested against fugitives writing back to the South (through the mails) on account of the liability of getting parties into danger, as all such letters were liable to be intercepted in order to the discovery of the names of such as aided the Underground Rail Road. To render needless this writing to the South the Committee often submitted to be taxed with demands to rescue clothing as well as wives, etc., belonging to such as had been already aided.

The following letters are fair samples of a large number which came to the Committee touching the matter of clothing, etc.:

ST. CATHARINES, Sept. 4th.

DEAR SIR:—I now embrace this favorable opportunity of writing you a few lines to inform you that I am quite well and arrived here safe, and I hope that these few lines may find you and your family the same. I hope you will intercede for my clothes and as soon as they come please to send them to me, and if you have not time, get Dr. Lundy to look out for them, and when they come be very careful in sending them. I wish you would copy off this letter and give it to the Steward, and tell him to give it to Henry Lewy and tell him to give it to my wife. Brother sends his love to you and all the family and he is overjoyed at seeing me arrive safe, he can hardly contain himself; also he wants to see his wife very much, and says when she comes he hopes you will send her on as soon as possible. Jerry Williams’ love, together with all of us. I had a message for Mr. Lundy, but I forgot it when I was there. No more at present, but remain your ever grateful and sincere friend,

JOHN ATKINSON.

ST. CATHARINES, C.W., Oct. 5th, 1854.

MR. WM. STILL:—Dear Sir—I have learned of my friend, Richmond Bohm, that my clothes were in Philadelphia. Will you have the kindness to see Dr. Lundy and if he has my clothes in charge, or knows about them, for him to send them on to me immediately, as I am in great need of them. I would like to have them put in a small box, and the overcoat I left at your house to be put in the box with them, to be sent to the care of my friend, Hiram Wilson. On receipt of this letter, I desire you to write a few lines to my wife, Mary Atkins, in the care of my friend, Henry Lowey, stating that I am well and hearty and hoping that she is the same. Please tell her to remember my love to her mother and her cousin, Emelin, and her husband, and Thomas Hunter; also to my father and mother. Please request her to write to me immediately, for her to be of good courage, that I love her better than ever. I would like her to come on as soon as she can, but for her to write and let me know when she is going to start.

Affectionately Yours,

JOHN ATKINS.

W.H. ATKINSON, Fugitive, Oct., 1854.