The quiet of a midsummer night had settled down over the city of Washington, when, in August, 1839, a dusky form came, with stealthy tread, from among some buildings not far away, and cautiously approached the eastern entrance to the Capitol. Laying his hand upon the cold steps in the shadow of the great building, Jim Jones, a colored boy of about seventeen, attentively listened as if in expectation of some preconcerted signal.
He had waited but a moment thus, when the hand of a patrol was laid heavily upon his shoulder and the rough query, “What does this mean, you black rascal?” fell upon his ear.
“Dunno, Massa,” was the reply of the startled boy.
“Well, you know, you young nigger, you have no business here at this hour of the night.”
“Yes, Massa, I knowed de night am for white folks, and I jus’ cum for to see—”
“Some d—d abolitionist who is trying to get you away.”
“Well, come along and we shall see,” saying which he rudely hurried the boy away to a place of safe keeping.
In the early morning Jim was recognized by his master, who vainly tried to extort from him by questioning the cause of his nocturnal ramble. Failing in this, the boy was taken to a blacksmith shop and his thumbs placed end to end in the jaws of a vice.
“Now,” said the master, “tell me why you were abroad last night.”
A half turn of the screw, and a groan of pain escaped the boy; another turn and he writhed in agony.
“Now you black son of a b——ch, why were you at the Capitol last night?”
“O Lor’, Massa, a white man tol’ me I should come.”
“Yes, Massa, so the gem’an said. He was jus’ comin’ to open de way, when Massa da’ cotched me.”
Another turn of the screw, and in the agony of despair the boy yelled, “Dunno, dunno, Massa, dunno,” and swooned away.
After resuscitation the torture was again applied, but nothing farther was elicited, as the boy continued to aver he had never heard the name of the man who was to lead him; and, indeed, he had met him only in the dark.
Though for years slaves had from time to time been stealing away from the _kind_ attentions of their masters, and, indeed, very frequently of late, yet never before had the latter dreamed that their “chattel” went by subterranean transit, and the theme became one of such absorbing interest that, when two months later five prominent slaves escaped from the city in a single night, a Washington morning paper heralded the matter before the world for the first time as follows:—