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 COLLECTION 
 
 OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINE ANA 
 
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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2013 
 
 http://archive.org/details/lifeadventuresofOOvoor 
 
- 
 
ROEERT THE HERMIT. 
 
LIFE AND ADVENTURES* 
 
 OF 
 
 ROBERT, 
 
 THE 
 
 HERMIT OF MASSACHUSETTS. 
 
 Who has lived 14 Years in a Cave, seclu- 
 ded from human society. 
 
 comprising, 
 
 An account of his Birth, Parentage , Sufferings, aru 
 providential escape from unjust and cruel Bond- 
 age in early life— and his reasons for be- 
 coming a Recluse. 
 
 Taken from his own mouth,; and published for h 
 benefit. 
 
 PROVIDENCE : 
 
 Printed for h. trumbull— 1829. 
 Price 12 1-2 Cents* 
 
DISTRICT of RHODE ISLAND, to wit; 
 
 BE it remembered. Tbrt on the thirty. first day 
 of January, o e thousand eight hundred and twenty 
 nine, a>d in the fifty third year of the Independence of the 
 United States of America, HKNKY TRUMBULL of said Dis- 
 trict, deposited in this office the title of a book, the right 
 whereof he claims as author, in the following words, t© 
 wit. — " Life and Adventures of Robert the Hermit of Massa- 
 chusets, who has lived fourteen years in a cave secluded 
 feom human society, comprKng an account of his Birth, Pa- 
 rentage, Sufferings and providential eecape from unjust and 
 cruel Bondage in early life : and his reasons for becoming a 
 Kecluse. Taken from his own mouth and published for his 
 benefit 
 
 In conformity to an act of Congress of the United States* 
 entitled " an act for the encouragement of learning by se- 
 curing the copies of maps, charts and books to the authors 
 and proprietors of such copies during the time therein men- 
 „ oned, and also to an act entitled " an act supplementary 
 to an act entitled an act for the encouragement of learning 
 by se uring the copies of maps, charts and books, to the 
 authors and proprietors of such copies during the time there- 
 in mentioned, and extending the benefits thereof to the arts 
 of designing,engraving and etching historical and other prints. 
 Witness, Benjamin Cowell, 
 
 CJerk of the Rhode Island District^ 
 
LIFE and ADVENTURES 
 
 OF 
 
 ROBERT the HERMIT. 
 
 ® 
 
 IT is a fact well known to almost every in- 
 habitant of Rhode Island, that on the summit of a 
 Mil, a few rods east of Seekonk river, (within the 
 State of Massachusetts) and about two miles from 
 Providence Bridge, has dwelt for many years, a 
 solitary Hermit, bearing the name of Robert — 
 and, although familiarly known to many of the in- 
 habitants of Providence, and its vicinity, for his 
 peaceable and agreeable disposition, yet, his history, 
 as regards his birth, the cause of his seclusion, &c. 
 has until very recently remained a profound se- 
 cret ! having carefully avoided answering any ques- 
 tions relative thereto, of hundreds, who, prompted 
 by curiosity, have been from time to time induced to 
 nsit his cave, or cell — and although very peaceable 
 and civil* in his deportment, he has (with the excep- 
 tion of his occasional excursions to Providence, and 
 he adjacent villages, to obtain food and necessaries) 
 remained almost impervious in his retreat. 
 Many and various have been the conjectures of 
 
 <frs 
 
6 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF 
 
 (he most curious and inquisitive of the Rhode Island 
 ers, (in the neighborhood of whose State he lives," 
 respecting this " strange and mysterious being," anc 
 while some few have unjustly harboured an opinio? 
 that he had perpetrated crimes of a henious nature 
 for which he was doing penance — others, have a 
 vowed in opposition to this, that his whole deport 
 ment was so perfectly calm, and his countenance s< 
 Serene, that it was impossible that so fair a tenant, 
 could harbour a soul of darkness and criminality. 
 
 The first information which the writer ever re\ 
 ceived of this extraordinary character, was througf 
 the medium of one of the Providence prints, con 1 
 taining some well written remarks relating to him 
 and which we have thought proper here to republisl 
 in confirmation of the fact stated, that, until ver 
 recently " Robert the Hermit" has uniformly refus 
 ed to gratify the curiosity of any of his visitors, a 
 regarded his nativity, history, &c. 
 
 From the Literary Cadet of June 1826,- 
 " Beneath a mountain's brow, the most remote 
 And inaccessible by Shepherds trod, 
 In a deep cave, dug by no mortals hands 
 An Hermit lived, — a melancholy man 
 Who was the wonder of our wand'ring swains-r 
 Austere and lonely — cruel to himself 
 They did report him— the cold earth his bed, 
 Water his drink, his food the Shepherd's alms; 
 I went to see him, and my heart was touched 
 With reverence and with pity. Mild he spake, 
 And entering on discourse, such stones told, 
 As made me oft re-visit his sad cell." hours' douglas 
 
 " On the declivity of a hill, which overlooks th< 
 pellucid waters of the Seekonk River in a rude eel 
 resides a Hermit, whose history is as inexplicabl 
 as his aflected account of himself is mysterious. Hj 
 name is Robert, but to what country he belong? 
 ar what are the inducements which have led him t 
 
ROBERT THE HERMIT. ? 
 
 i 
 
 lead the solitary life of a Hermit, no one knows, and 
 (the fact puts conjecture at a hazard. Certain it is, 
 however, that he is not a native of New Flngland ; 
 and that he is not by education or by principle at- 
 tached to our habits or our institutions the whole 
 'course of his life, since he has been with us, ha* 
 abundantly proven. 
 
 ,)i It is now about eighteen years, since he first visi- 
 ted us, and took up his abode in a thick pine grove, 
 swhich threw its luxurious foliage over the brow of 
 ^mold's Hill, and from that day to this, he has care- 
 n fully avoided answering any questions, which might 
 filead to a discovery of his history — or gratify the cu- 
 riosity of the inquirer. 
 
 i Months, years and days pass by him unnoticed 
 iind unregarded, and it is only on extraordinary oc- 
 casions, that he emerges from the confines of his so- 
 atary hermitage. In the Spring he sometimes oc- 
 »« himself in laborious employment — such as 
 ittending gardens for the neighborhood ; but so re- 
 gardless is he of the things of this world, that he 
 :ares not whether his labors are rewarded or not* 
 >y those who receive the benefits of them. 
 
 Unused to the luxuries or extravagancies oflife 3 
 le contents himself with the simplest food and such 
 is the bountiful hand of nature supplies. The meats 
 tnd intemperate liquids of social life, are unknown 
 o him 
 
 " But from the mountain's grassy side 
 
 A guiltless feast he brings ; 
 A scrip with herbs and fruits supplied, 
 i' And water from the springs." 
 
 In summer, he cultivates a small lot of land, which 
 s ie is kindly allowed to possess, by the Hon. Mr. 
 Purges, the owner of the estate on which the her- 
 bila-e is located ; but be rarely allows the plants t© 
 rrive at maturity, uefore he plucks them from the 
 
g LIFE AND ADVExNTURES OF 
 
 earth, and throws them to the cattle that feed arouj 
 his lonely mansion. What should induce him.to th* 
 destroy what he has often been at great labor > 
 cultivate, he assigns no reason, nor can any o 
 form a reasonable conjecture. His cell is decoratj 
 with various shells and bones, and is scarcely c 
 pable of accommodating himself alone; and the It 
 niture with which it is supplied, consists of a stoi 
 an oaken bench, on which he reposes, and two 
 three pieces of broken delf ware. It is as gloomy, 
 darkness and solitude can make it, and appears 
 be admirably fitted for a misanthrope and a reclu; 
 
 In winter he seldom emerges from his solita 
 mansion, but silently and patiently waits for time 
 introduce the vernal Spring, and to bring about tl 
 joyful season, when once more he can rove arou 
 the adjacent woodlands and meads. The rays of t 
 sun never enter the portals of his domicil, ^nd 
 mid-day it assumes all the darkness of mi/j^f 
 Content with his situation, and at peace with 
 he quietly looks forward for the arrival of that d, 
 when he shall "bid the waking world good nigh 
 and find in countries unexplored, that happim 
 which life has denied him. 
 
 His cell is surrounded by a thick set hed^ 
 wrought of wild briars and hemlock, and disph 
 much ingenuity and taste It is in a most roman 
 situation, some distance from any human habitati( 
 and not often annoyed by the gaze of the curio 
 or the mischievous visits of the boys, for they 
 love poor Robert. It is well worth the trouble 
 those who are fond of the curious, and are pleas 
 with noticing the excentricities of frail mortality 
 visit the abode of 'Robert the Hermit." [0^T*T 
 preceding are the remarks alluded to, contained 
 the Cadet of 1826, and which we doubt not w< 
 from the able pen of the Editor of that paper, at 
 date mentioned I 
 
ROBERT THE HERMIT. 9 
 
 ft was not until within a few weeks that the writer 
 was induced to visit the lonely and solitary retreat 
 of <•'• poor Robert,"— by the urgent solicitations of 
 a few who had long known him, and not without 
 hopes that he might possibly be prevailed upon to 
 disclose some of the most extraordinary incidents 
 of his life, for publication, if assured that he was to 
 reap a benefit thereby (for great indeed are his pre- 
 sent wants,) the writer was induced to visit him for 
 this purpose. It was about 1 \ o'clock in the fore- 
 noon when 1 reached his habitation, and on remov- 
 ing; a small rough board supported by a leathern 
 hinge, and which closed the only passage to his dark 
 and gloomy cell, I discovered him in about the cen- 
 tre, seated on a wooden block, in an apparent rev- 
 erie. 
 
 I accosted him in a friendly manner, and he with 
 much civility, bid me welcome ; and as if willing to 
 pmte&ft me to satisfy that curiosity which he no doubt 
 supposed hao'atuie prompted me (as it had hundreds 
 *j{ others) to visit him, he with much apparent good 
 jiumoir invited me to enter, and accept of his seat, 
 when, as he observed r I would have a better oppor- 
 tunity to inspect the internal part of his lonely hab- 
 itation — an invitation ©$" which I accepted— and, af- 
 ter making known to htm the true object of my vis- 
 it, and with assurances that it was produced by the 
 most urgent solicitations of one or more of his friends r 
 who had expressed, and [ believed sincerely felt an 
 interest in his welfare, so far at least as to render 
 his situation more comfortable — I begged that he 
 would gratify me with a brief narration of his life, and 
 inform me wh it powerful cause had' arose to induce 
 him to quit the pleasures of society, and consign his 
 days to voluntary seclusions ? — to winch, after a 
 consider able pause 1 , and with his eyes fixed steadfast 
 «pon me, as if to satisfy himself that what I had stated 
 B 
 
f 9 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF 
 
 was spoken in sincerity, he made the following re- 
 ply — l4 that is a relation with which 1 have declined 
 Indulging any one, as the enquiry seemed merely 
 made to gratify idle curiosity ; but, as you epeak as 
 if you could feel sympathy for distress, i will briefly 
 gratify your request : — 
 
 kt I was born in ; Princeton (New Jersey) in the 
 year 1769 or '70, and was born, as was my mother 
 (who was of African descent,) in bondage ; although 
 my father, as has been represented to me, was not 
 •nly a pure white blooded Englishman, but a gentle- 
 man of considerable eminence-^! had no brothers 
 and but one suter, who was three years older than 
 myself;, but of her, as of my mother, I have but a 
 faint recollection, at I in my infancy was included in 
 the patrimonial portion of my master's oldest daugh- 
 ter, on her marriage to a Mr. John Voorhis, by 
 birth a German. When but four years of age I wa& 
 conveyed by my master to Georgetown (District of 
 Columbia,) to which place he removed with his fam- 
 ily., and never have I since been enabled to learn 
 the fate of my poor mother or sister, whom, it is 
 not very improbable, death has long since removed 
 from their unjust servitude. 
 
 At the age of 14 or 15, my master apprenticed 
 jne to a Shoemaker, to obtain if possible a knowl- 
 edge of the art ; but making but little proficiency, 
 he again took me upon his plantation, where my. 
 lime was mostly, employed in gardening until about 
 fche age of nineteen. It was at that age, that I be- 
 came first acquainted with an agreeable young fe- 
 male (an brph.m) by the name of Alley Penning- 
 ton, a native of Cecil county, (Maryland)— she 
 first expressed her attachment for me, and a wil- 
 lingness to become my partner for life, provided I 
 aould obtain my freedom, nor can I say that I felt 
 less attachment for ene with whom I was confide*!! 
 
ROBERT THE HERMIT. If 
 
 1 could spend my life agreeably — she was indeed 
 the object or my first love, a love which can only 
 b*» extinguished with my existence ; and never at any 
 period previous waft the yoke of bondage more goard- 
 ing, or did I feel so sensibly the want of that free- 
 dom, the deprivation of which y was now the only 
 barrier to my much wished for union with one I so 
 sincerely and tenderly loved. 
 
 As my master had uniformly expressed an unwil- 
 lingness 10 grant me my freedom, on any other terms 
 than receiving a suitable compensation therefor, my. 
 only alternative now to obtain it, was to apply to 
 one with whom I was most intimately acquainted, 
 and to whom I thought I could safely communicate 
 my desires, as he had in more than one instance, 
 expressed m ch regard for me t and a willingness to 
 serve me — to him I proposed that he should pay 
 to my master the stipulated sum (Fifty Pounds.) de- 
 manded for my freedom, and that, the bill of sale 
 dhould remain in his hands*, until such time as I 
 should be enabled by the fruits of my industry to 
 repay him, principal and it-t-rest, and allow him a 
 suitable compensation therefor for his trouble— to 
 this proposal. he very readily as&ented, and not only 
 expressed his willingness but his approbation of my 
 much desired union with my beloved Alley. My 
 request was immediately complied ,witn, the Fifty 
 Pounds were paid by my good friend (as 1 then sup- 
 posed him,) to whom I was by bond tracsfered aa 
 his lawful property, and by whom I was given to 
 understand that i might then seek business for my- 
 self, and turn my attention to any that 1 should con- 
 ceive the most profitable, and consider myself under 
 no other bondage than as a debtor, to the amount 
 paid for my freedom. The name of one who had 
 manifested so much what I supposed real and disin- 
 terested friendship for me, but who finally proveci 
 
1% LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF 
 
 the author of almost all the wretchedness, which I 
 have since endured, ought not to be concealed — it 
 was James Bevens. 
 
 Feeling myself now almost a free man, I did not,, 
 as may be supposed, suffer many hours to elapse 
 before I hastened to bear the joyful tidings of my 
 good fortune, to one, who, as I had anticipated, re- 
 ceived it with unfeigned demonstrations of joy •, and 
 who, so far from exhibiting an unwillingness to full- 
 iill her promise, yielded her hand without reluctance 
 or distrust— we were married, lawfully married, and 
 more than three years of domestic felicity passed a- 
 way, without a misfortune to ruffle our repose — in 
 the course of which the Almighty had not only been 
 pleased to bless us with two children, bat my- 
 self with' so great a share of good health, as to 
 have enabled me by my industry, to earn and re- 
 fund a very considerable portion of the fifty pounds 
 paid by Bevins for my freedom — of these sums 1 hr>d 
 neither made any charge, or took anj recpipts— <n 
 this I was brought to see my error, but, alas 1 too 
 late. 
 
 Bevins, as I have stated, was a man in whom I 
 had placed implicit confidence, and indeed until the- 
 period mentioned, supposed him, as regarded my- 
 self, incapable of any thing dishonorable, much less 
 of being the author of as great an act of cruelty and 
 injustice, as ever was recorded in the catalogue of 
 human depravity ! 
 
 It was late one evening, an evening never to be 
 forgotten by me, while sitting in the midst of my 
 innocent and beloved family, amused with the prat- 
 tle of my eldest child, and enjoying all the felicity 
 which conjugal love and parental affection are pro* 
 ductive of, that this monster in human shape (BevinsJ 
 accompanied by another, entered, seized and pinion- 
 ed me L and gave me to understand that i was intead- 
 
ROBERT THE HERMIT. |§ 
 
 ed for a Southern market ! ! It is impossible for me 
 to describe my feelings or those of my poor distract- 
 ed wife, at that moment ! it was in vain that 1 in- 
 treated, in vain that 1 represented to Bevms that he 
 bad already received a very great proportion of the 
 sum paid for my freedom — to which the ruffian made 
 no other reply, than pronouncing me a liar, dragged 
 me like a felon from my peaceable domicil — from 
 my beloved family — whose shrieks would have pier- 
 oed the heart of any one but a wretch like himself! 
 
 In the most secret manner, at eleven at night, I 
 was huiried on board of a Schooner, where addition- 
 al miseries awaited me ! — for fear of an escape, I 
 found that irons were to be substituted for the ropes 
 with which they had bound me ! and whiie a person 
 was employed in riveting them, I improved the op- 
 portunity, which I thought proDdbly would be the 
 last, to address the author of my miseries, in words 
 nearly as follows : — " are these the proofs, master 
 Bevies, of the friendship which you have professed 
 forme! tell me I pray you, what have I done to 
 me.it such barbarous treatment from your hands ? 
 nothing, no nothing! I have nothing wherewith to re- 
 proach myself but my own credulity !'* — to this he 
 made no reply ; shackled and handcuffed, I was pre» 
 •ipitated into the hold of the schooner, by the mo- 
 tion of which I perceived was soon under way, and 
 bearing me I knew not whither! So far from feel- 
 ing an incl matron to sleep, it was to me a night of 
 inconceivable wretchedness I could here nothing 
 but the shrieks of my poor disconsolate wife, and 
 the moan? of her helpless children! indeed such 
 was ray imagination — alas ! he alone can have a just 
 •onception of my feelings who may have been pla- 
 ted in a similar situation, if such a person can be 
 found on earth. 
 
 In three days (during which n© other food was 
 
H LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF 
 
 allowed me but a few pounds of mouldy bread) the 
 Schooner reached the port of her destination — 
 Charleston, S. C. — and from which, without being 
 relieved of my irons, I was conveyed to and lodged 
 in prison, where I was suffered to remain in soli- 
 tude five days— from thence I was conducted to a 
 place expressly appropriated to the sale of hum/m 
 beings ! where, like the meanest animal of the brute 
 creation, I was disposed of ai public auction to the 
 ♦highest bidder S 
 
 Resolved on my liberty, and that I would not let 
 pass unimproved the first opportunity that should 
 present, to regain it, I did not remain with my pur- 
 chaser long enough to learn his name or the pike 
 paid for me ; who, to win my affections, and the 
 better to reconcile me to my situation, professed 
 snuch regard for me and made many fair promises, 
 (not one of which it is probable he ever intended to 
 perform,) and the better to deceive me, voluntarily 
 granted me the indulgence to walk a few hours un- 
 guarded and unattended about the city ; supposing, 
 no doubt, that it would be impossible for me to re- 
 gain my liberty, as no coloured person was alln,vfc.J 
 to proceed beyond the limits of the city, without 
 a we-ll authenticated pass — of this 1 was not ignor- 
 ant, and therefore sought other and less dangerous 
 means to escape, for L felt that death in its worst 
 forms would be far preferable to slavery. 
 
 I carlessly strolled about the wharves among the 
 shipping, where I at length was so fortunate as to 
 find a Sloop bound direct to Philadelphia — she had 
 completed her lading, her sails were loosed and ev- 
 ery preparation made to haul immediately into the, 
 stream— watching a favourable opportunity, while 
 the hands were employed forward 1 unperceived 
 ascended and secreted myself between two casks in 
 fke hold — all beneath was «oon well secured by the 
 
ROBERT THE HERMIT. 1& 
 
 batches, and I had the satisfaction to find myself in 
 Sees than three hours, from the time >hat I was pur- 
 chased like a bale of goods at auction, stowed snug- 
 ly away, and with fair prospecis of regaining my 
 liberty! it was at that moment that a secret joy 
 diffused itself through my soul— I found unexpected 
 consolation and fortitude, produced by a firm per- 
 suasion that by the assistance of a divine provi- 
 dence I should accomplish my deliverance. 
 
 Early in the morning of the fourth day from that 
 of our departure, we were safely moored along side 
 of one of the Philadelphia wharves. During the 
 passage of three days and one night my only nour- 
 ishment had been about one gill of spirits, contain- 
 ed in a small viol, with which I occasionally moist- 
 ened my lips, for on the third day my thirst had 
 become intolerable. 
 
 I was as fortunate in leaving the sloop unsuspect^ 
 ed or undiscovered, as I had been in secreting my- 
 self on board of her, and as soon as safely on shore, 
 my first object was to procure lodgings and some- 
 thing to satisfy the cravings of nature, at a boarding 
 house for seamen. Representing myself as belong- 
 ing to a coaster, I was not suspected as any other 
 than a free man. As I had heard much of the hos- 
 pitality of the Quakers (or Friends,) and as a class 
 who were the zealous advocates for the emancipa- 
 tion of their fellow beings in bondage, to one of 
 them, on the very day of my arrival, I made my 
 situation known, concealing nothing ; and begged that 
 he would interest himself so far in my behalf as to 
 advise me what I had best do, to secure my per- 
 son from further arrest by unjust claimants, and to 
 restore to me my bereaved and afflicted family. 
 
 The good man listened with much apparent at- 
 tention to my story, and seemed somewhat affected 
 thereby, and so far from exhibiting any disposition 
 
Id LIFE AN» ADTENTURES OF 
 
 to discredit any part of it, presented me with halt 
 a crown, and requested me to call on him in the 
 forenoon of the next day, by which time (as he said) 
 he would have an opportunity to consult some of h»$ 
 brethren, by whom he thought steps would be taken 
 to redress my wrongs— nor have I any reason to be- 
 lieve that he promised more than he intended to 
 perform, and I believe that by these good people I 
 should have been effectually freed from the shackles 
 ©f slavery, had not another melancholLy instance of 
 adverse fortune, placed me in a situation not to com- 
 ply with his request. Returning to my lodgings in 
 She evening, 1 was accused (jocosly, as 1 at first sup- 
 posed) by the inmates of the house, of being a run- 
 away slave ! still however persisting in my former. 
 Story, that I was free and belonged to a coaster, but 
 being unable to reply satisfactorily to their enquiries,. 
 s& to the name and place oFdestinatton of the vessel, 
 I was committed to prison and advertized as a sus- 
 pected runaway. 
 
 By what means my pretended master obtained in- 
 formation of my situation, I could never learn, for 
 after nine days close confinement in prison (during 
 which I was not permitted to communicate with any 
 one but the goater) I was once more strongly ironed 
 and delivered over to the charge of the captain of a 
 Charleston packet— to which port as it proved she 
 was bound direct. It will not be necessary to in- 
 form you that my treatment was tio better than what 
 I had received on ray late passage from Maryland 
 —nor do I know that I could have reasonably expect- 
 ed any better, from those who probably considered 
 coloured people as free from feelings as understand- 
 ings. As soon as we reached Charleston, I was 
 conducted to and delivered over to my reputed mas- 
 ter, who had however in my absence, as it appear- 
 ed, become somewhat sick of his purchase,, for tJfcfe 
 
ROBERT THE HERMIT, |f 
 
 laext day I was with two or three others similarly sit- 
 uated, exposed to sale at public auction. 
 
 The person by whom I was next purchased, was 
 a Dr. Peter Fersue, a man of considerable wealth, 
 and who, had it not been obtained by the <oils of his 
 fellow creatures in bondage, might have passed for 
 one not entirely devoid of humanity ; for 1 must say*, 
 injustice to him, that it was remarked that those, 
 who were held in bondage by him, were treated 
 with less severity than those possessed by some of* 
 his neighbors. Perceiving that I was not a litila 
 dissatisfied with my situation, and that I possessed 
 a partial knowledge of letters (which I had acquir- 
 ed previous to my marriage) through fear probably 
 that I might instill into the minds of some of oiv 
 fellow slaves, principles, which might ultimately 
 prove to his disadvantage, I was selected as a house 
 servant, and consequently exempted from many of' 
 the privations to which the other slaves were ex- 
 posed—yet, I became no more reconciled to my 
 situation, nor felt any degree of attachment for him, 
 as I could never harbour a belief but that hjim*n be- 
 ings, whatever might be their complexion, were all 
 created equally free ; and that it was in direct con- 
 tradiction to the will of the Supreme Being, that 
 one portion of his creatures should be held in bond- 
 age by another* for no other fault than a difference 
 of complexion ! — and, I must confess, that my bo- 
 som could not but swell with indignation, when pla- 
 oed in a situation to witness the severity with which 
 many of my fellow companions in bondage, at the 
 South, were treated — worn out by constant fatigue, 
 clad in rags, branded with lashes, and otherway- 
 treated more like brutes than human beings ! 
 
 Freedom, the gift of Heaven, was too highly 
 prized by me, to permit any thing of less impor- 
 tance to occupy my mind — but, great as were mr 
 
18 LIFE ANB ADVENTURES OF 
 
 desires to enjoy it, with him by whom I was wrong*' 
 fully claimed, I spent eighteen months in servitude, 
 before an opportunity presented to obtain it. The 
 means by which I was finally enabled to effect my 
 escape, were very similar to those which I had 
 practiced in my last attempt — i succeeded in secret- 
 ing myseif in the hold of a brig ready laden, and 
 bound direct to Boston (Massachusetts,) and without 
 an opportunity to provide myself witn a drop of 
 water, or a morsel af food of any kind on which 
 to subsist during the passage. 
 
 Although the place of my concealment afforded 
 nothing better on which to repose than a water cask^ 
 yet I found my birth not so uncomfortable as one 
 would naturally imagine, and I was enabled to en- 
 dure the calls of hunger and thirst, until the close 
 of the fifth day from that of our departure, when 
 the latter became too oppressive to be longer en- 
 dured — had I then possessed the wealth of the fn« 
 dias, it appeared to me, that I should have made a 
 willing exchange for a draught of sweet water * 
 not however until nearly deprived of my senses, did 
 I feel willing to make my situation known to those 
 on board — on the reflection, that should it even cost 
 me my life, that an instantanious death would be pre- 
 ferable to a lingering one, I seized a fragment of 
 a hoop, with which I crawled to and commenced 
 thumping upon a beam near the hatchway, ac the 
 same time hallooing as loud as the strength of my 
 lungs would admit of — soon I was heard by the hands 
 on deck, and while some broke out in exclamations 
 of wonder and surprize, others ran affrighted to the 
 cabin, to proclaim to the captain the fact that " the 
 brig was most certainly haunted, and had become the 
 habitation of bodiless spirits, as one or more were 
 at that moment crying out lamentably in the hold \ty 
 •^-bodiless spirits they no doubt concluded they must 
 
ROBERT THE HERMIT. 1$ 
 
 be, for the hatches being so well secured with a tar» 
 polin, none other, as they suppused, could have ob- 
 tained access. 
 
 The captain less superstitiously inclined, order- 
 ed the hatches to be immediate lv raised, but so great 
 was the terroui of the sailors, that il was som« lime 
 before any could be found of sufficient courage to o- 
 bey. 
 
 The hatches were no sooner removed than I pre- 
 sented myself to their view, tumbling thrni^h fear, 
 pale as death, and with hardly s length t^fl) lent 10 
 Support myself! — my appeal anr.e was indeed -uch as 
 almost to confirm the superstitious opinion of the 
 sailors, that the brig must certainly bi hannied, 
 for in me they beheld, a? they supposed, n ught 
 but an apparition ! the ghost, probably, of some unfor- 
 tunate shipmate, who on a former voyage tor some 
 trifling offence, had been privately and wickedly pre- 
 fjpitated from the brig's deck ,nto the ocean ! — such 
 indeed is the weakness and superstition peculiar tfe 
 many of that class of people, who follow the seas 
 for a livelihood 
 
 Those on board became however a little less in- 
 timidated, when I assured them that I intended them 
 no harm, and was t:o other than one of the most un- 
 fortuaate ad miserable of human beings, who had 
 sought that means to escape from unjust and cruel 
 bondage ! and then briefly related to them, at what 
 time and in what manner 1 succeeded in secreting 
 myself unnoticed in the brig's hold ; where it was 
 my intention to have remained, if possible, until her. 
 arrival at tie port of her destination — and concluded 
 with begging them for mercy's sake, to grant me a 
 bucket of ftvsh water I for, indeed, such was my 
 thirst, that a less quantity it appeared to me would 
 'have proved insufficient to have allayed it. 
 
 The captain (who very fortunately for me, pro** 
 
gg life and adventures of 
 
 <?d to be a Quaker, and with all the tender feeling pen 
 culiar to that excellent class of people) gave orders 
 to his men to treat me with kindness, and to assist 
 me on deck, for I had new become so weak and e- 
 maciated by long fasting, that 1 was scarcely able 
 to help myself. " I hy wants shall be supplied (said 
 the good captain, addressing himself to me) but suck 
 is thy present weakness, that thee must eat and drink 
 sparingly, or it ma) be worse for thee !" — this man 
 was truly in practice, as well as by profession, a 
 Christian — for had he been my father, he could not 
 have treated me with more tenderness and compas- 
 sion — he would allow me but; a single gill of water 
 at a draugh, and that quantity but twice in an hour, 
 although five times that quantity would not have sat- 
 iated me — and the food allowed me. was apportioned 
 accordingly. 
 
 In two days after we reached Boston, where I was 
 Sqnded, with permiss'on of the captain to proceed 
 whither I pleased ; not however until he had imprsrt- 
 *(J to me sense friendly advice, to be cautious with 
 whom I associated on shore, and as I valued my lib- 
 erty, not to frequent such parts of the town as r.as 
 inhabited by the most vicious and abandoned of the 
 human race — with which he presented me with some 
 #hange, and bid me farewell, and never to my knowl» 
 edge have I since had the happiness to meet with 
 this good man ; who, long 'ere this has probably 
 been numbereo with the just, and if so. is now 1 trust 
 reaping the reward of his good deeds in another and 
 feeder world. 
 
 Unacquainted then with the laws of New-England, 
 and fearful that it might not be safe to tarry a long 
 while in a place >a populous as Boston, before sun- 
 set of the same day I crossed the bridge leading f© 
 Charlestown, with an intention of proceeding as far 
 «ftst as Portland — I tarried that night at Lynn, aiwl 
 
ROBERT THE HERMIT. ffl 
 
 at about 10 o'clock the next morning reached Salenrj 
 where 1 concluded to remain until the morning en- 
 suing. I applied to a boarding house for seamen for 
 some refreshment, and bespoke lodgings for the nigh^ 
 and in the course of the day met with a gentleman 
 who was in quest of hands for a voyage to India. As 
 my small funds were now nearly exhausted, I thought 
 this not only a favourable opportunity to replenish 
 them, but to place myself beyond the reach of my 
 pretended masters of the south, should they extend 
 their pursuit of me as far east as Massachusetts—* 
 to him I therefore offered myself for the voyage* and 
 was accepted. 
 
 It cannot be expected that I can recollect, or is 
 it necessary for me to state every minute circum- 
 stance that attended me on this voyage, and I will 
 only remark, that although a fresh hand, and totally 
 unacquainted with seamanship, I succeeded in the 
 performance of my duty beyond my expectations, 
 and 1 believe not only to the satisfaction of my offi- 
 cers, but gained the esteem and good will of my 
 shipmates on board — in proof of this, there is one 
 circumstance that 1 ought not fail to mention — when 
 about to cross the line, where sailors generally cal- 
 culate to receive a formal visit from Neptune, the 
 aged Monarch of the cieep made his appearance as 
 usual, and with little ceremony introduced himself 
 ©n board, and while others (who had never before 
 been honored with an interview with his majesty) 
 were compelled to yield to the unpleasant severities 
 of a custom prescribed by him, i was, by the in- 
 tercession of my shipmates, so "fortunate as to es- 
 cape. 
 
 After an absence of about fourteen months, the 
 ship returned in safety to Salem, and with the lose 
 I believe of but one man— when discharged, my wa- 
 ges were punctually paid me f which amounted to q 
 9 
 
2$ ?jIFE and adventures of 
 
 sum not -? y much greater than what I had ever be* 
 been m possession of, but a sum much more 
 iderabk thau what I once ever expected to pos- 
 sess !— there was indeed as 1 then thought, but one 
 i: ug wanting to complete my happiness (to wit.) the 
 presence of my poor unfortunate family ! — with this 
 money, thought 1, how comfortable could I render 
 the situation of my beloved Alley, and my not less 
 beloved children ! who, while 1 at this moment have 
 enough and to spare, it is not improbable, if living, 
 are enduring all the miseries that poverty and oppres- 
 sion are productive of! — reflections like these were 
 sufficient to depress my spirits, and to deprive me of 
 that enjoyment, which sailors so abundantly partici- 
 pate in on their return from a long voyage to their 
 favorite port. 
 
 i remained on shore but a short time when I ship- 
 ped for a second voyage to India — and, would here 
 briefly state, without entering into particubis, that 
 from this period for nine years, I continual io sail 
 as a common hand from the ports of Boston and Sa» 
 lem, to different ports in Europe and India — in which 
 time 1 never once suffered shipwreck, or met with 
 anv very serious disaster! — it is not improbable that 
 there are at the present day. some of my old Com- 
 manders and Shipmates still living in or about Boston 
 and Salem, who may have some recollection of 
 H Robert." 
 
 After my return from my first voyage, I became 
 acquainted with and commenced board in the family 
 of a respectable elderly widow woman, who afford- 
 ed decent fare, although in very moderate circum- 
 stances — the family was composed of the old ladjL 
 and three daughters, of the ages of eighteen, twen- 
 ty-one and twenty-tive — it was their house that I 
 continued to '.' hail" as my home, whenever I re« 
 tarued to port, and so long as I remained on shore ; 
 
ROBERT THE HERMIT. 23 
 
 and, almost destitute as I was at this time of other 
 friends, it is not, as I deem it, very extraordinary 
 thai I should feel more than a common degree of 
 regard and attachment for the family, and that that 
 attachment shouid finally lead to a greater intimacy 
 —this was indeed the case, and on my return from 
 my second voyage, 1 entered into the bands of matri- 
 mony with one of the daughters — the marriage cere- 
 monies were performed by a Justice Putnam, of 
 Danvers. Here, in justification of myself, for having 
 •onsented to become the husband of another, when 
 there wis a possibility of my first wife being alive, 
 I must state that there were two great inducements— 
 sne, that I was strongly urged so to do by those who 
 undoubtedly had authority to use compulsory means 
 had I declined-— and the other, that I had now given 
 up all hopes and expectations of ever meeting a- 
 gain in this world, her, who was the first object of 
 my pledged love. 
 
 The duy after my marriage I rented a small ten- 
 •anient, which I gave my mother and her daughter* 
 liberty to occupy with my wife in my absence, for 
 in thiee days after I was once more on my favor- 
 ite element, bound to India — prev ous to my depar- 
 ture however I made ample provision for the sup- 
 port of my family, and left a request with the gen- 
 tleman in whose employ I sailed, to allow them a 
 portion of my wages, in my absence, which was 
 strictly complied with. The voyage proved as usu- 
 al prosperous, and on my return was received by 
 my friends, not only with the most lively demon- 
 strations of joy, but with the tidings that I rud in 
 my absence, for the third time, become a father. 
 
 f remained on shore about three months, and 
 such was the harmony that prevailed between us, 
 and such the kind treatment that I received from 
 my companion, that it would have been cruel to 
 
24 LJFE AND ADVENTURES OF 
 
 have doubted her love acH affection for me. At- 
 the expiration of the three months, 1 once* more with 
 •onsiderable reluctance bid her adieu, and shipped 
 on board the Herald, capt. Derby, bound from Bos- 
 ton to Canton ; — on this voyage I was absent but a- 
 bout eighteen months, from the time that we left 
 Boston, which was our port of ^ntiy on our return. 
 
 As soon as discharged I hastened to Salem with 
 the fruits of my toil, and with fond expectations of 
 being welcomed once more to my peaceful home, 
 by one who had so repeatedly expressed her love 
 and regard for me — but, alas, sadly was I disappoint- 
 ed ! — for true it is, that she who 1 had supposed al- 
 most an angel in disposition, had in my absence beea 
 transformed to a demon ! Cold indeed was the re- 
 ception that 1 met with---so far from expressing 
 or manifesting the least degree of joy or satisfaction 
 on the occasion (although I had been between one 
 and two years absent) I was insultingly told b}' her 
 that " if I had never returned she would hav^ been 
 the last to lament it i" 
 
 The cause of this surpriziDg and unexpected al- 
 teration in one, whom, from the moment she became 
 my wife, I had treated with so much regard and af- 
 fection, I was never able to learn — although I did 
 not and could not feel that ardent affection for her, as 
 for one who was the object of my first love, yet 
 my affection for my child was as great as that for 
 my first born — for this I felt willing to make almost 
 any sacrifice, could a reconciliation have been there- 
 by effected ; but it could not, and a final seperatio* 
 was the consequence. I continued in Salem eight 
 or ten months longer, supporting myself with the 
 fruits of what I obtained by labour on board vessels, 
 on the wharves, &c. and then, witb light feet but 
 with a heavy heart, started in quest of new friends* 
 and a new home, bending my course southerly, u 
 
KCBERT THE HERMIT. 98 
 
 I made no longer tarry on the road than to obtain 
 refreshment?, until 1 reached Providence (Rhode 
 Island) where I made application for, and obtained 
 employment for a few days ; at the conclusion of 
 which, I obtained a birth on board of one of the 
 Packets plying between Providence and New-York, 
 in which business I continued (with the exception of a 
 part of the time that I was occasionally employed on 
 shore,) eight or nine years— some few of the packet 
 masters with whom I have sailed, and some for 
 whom I occasionally wrought onshore, are still liv- 
 
 Feeling a strong inclination once more to visit the 
 shores of the south, where I had not onl\ been un- 
 justly deprived of my liberty, but where I was in- 
 humanly forced from a beloved wife and two darling 
 children, 1 took passage (about fifteen years since) 
 on board a sloop for Baltimore, and from thence pro- 
 ceeded direct to Georgetown As twenty years hwd 
 elapsed since 1 there left all that I held mosi dear in life 
 — and so great a change had time effected in my per- 
 sonal appearance, I felt little or uo apprehension that 
 I should be recognized or molested by any, if living* 
 who once professed a claim to me. In this I was 
 not mistaken, for indeed as i egarded the town, in- 
 habitants, &c. so great a change had the twenty years 
 produced, that 1 walked the streets at mid day un- 
 noti ed and unknown. IVIy old master (Voorhis and 
 his wife had been some years dead, and the survi- 
 vors of the family had removed to parts unknown — 
 Bevins, the wretch by whim 1 was unjustly depriv- 
 ed of my liberty, and thereby forever separated from 
 niy unfortunate f-m>i!y, had a few years previous 
 emigrated lo the west— bu<, the principle object of 
 my visit was not answered — of my wife and children 
 I could obtain no satisfactory information— all that t 
 Could learn, was, that soon after my disappearance* 
 E 
 
36 TJFE AND ADVENTURES OF 
 
 their sufferings and deprivations became so great, ths* 
 my poor wife in a fit of desparation.as was supposed* 
 put an end to her existence, and that her helpless 
 children did not long survive hei ! — this was enough f 
 yea more than enough, to fill to the brim the bitter 
 cup of my afflictions ! — afflictions which had more or 
 less attended me through life ! — I then fclt but little 
 desire to live, as there was nothing then remaining 
 to attach me to this world — and it was at that moment 
 that I formed the determination to retire from it— 
 to become a recluse, and mingie thereafter as little 
 as possible with human society. 
 
 With this determination I returned direct to Rhode 
 Island, and soon after selected a retired spot well 
 suited to my purpose, being an extreme point of 
 uninhabited land (Fox Point) situated about one mile 
 south of Providence bridge — there I built me a hut 
 and dwelt peaceably therein for several years, and 
 until annoyed and discommoded by the youth of the 
 town, and by labourers employed in levelling the 
 hill in the neighborhood of my dwelling — I then ap- 
 plied to and obtained the consent of the gentleman 
 (Hon. Tristam Burgiss) to whom the land belongs, 
 to build this hut, and permission to improve the spot 
 of ground enclosed during my life — here in solitude I 
 have dwelt more than six years once or twice a week 
 (and sometimes oftener; I leave my recess, cross o- 
 ver the bridge into Providence, converse a little 
 with those with whom I have become acquainted, 
 obtain a few necessaries, and return again well sat- 
 isfied to my peaceable dwelling." 
 
 Here Robert concluded his narrative, and which 
 the writer, with very little variation, recorded as he 
 received* it from his own lips— in dates, Robert may 
 not have been perfectly correct, as he does not pro- 
 fess to be very positive as to his exact age — but, in 
 
IIOBERT THE HERMIT. 21 
 
 «very other particular, not a doubt remains on the 
 mind of the writer but that Robert (according to 
 his best recollection) uadeviatingly related facts as 
 they occurred— the writer thinks that he may safely 
 draw this conclusion, from the circumstance of hav- 
 ing visited him three days successively, and that his 
 replies to the most 6trict enquiries on the third day, 
 agreed perfectly with the particulars of his narration 
 on the first and second— and as he has heretofore 
 manifested an unwillingness to disclose to any one 
 the secret of his adventures, it is not probable that 
 he formed and committed to memory a story with 
 which to deceive the public, and in which there is 
 not a word of truth — no, those who are best ac- 
 quainted with " poor artless Robert" know him in- 
 capable of such a piece of deception. 
 
 Robert, is apparently about 60 years of age, a 
 little short of six feet in height, inclinea to corpu- 
 lency, his features perfectly regular, and of a com- 
 plexion but a shade or two darker than that of many 
 ~wiio profess to be and pass for whites — in his early 
 years he states that it was much more fair, but of 
 Lte years having been so much exposed to the smoke 
 of his cell, has become mnch changed— the lower 
 part of his face is covered with a thick and curly 
 beard, of a jet black, and of uncommon length — his 
 garments (or many of them) are of his own manu- 
 facture, and whenever a breach appears in any one 
 article, it is either closed by him in a bungling 
 manner, tvith needle and twine, or a patch is appli- 
 ed without regard to the quality or colour of the 
 cloth. The tattered surtout coat commonly worn by 
 him, in his excursions abroad in winter, in imitation 
 of the military, he has fancifully faced with red, 
 in which (with a cap of the same cloth and with his 
 Song beard) it would not be very surprizing if he 
 fhould sometimes be viewed by strangers, as s cme 
 
38 LIFE AND ADVENTURES. OF 
 
 distinguished embassador from the court of Tom- 
 buctoo, or one of the loyal subjects of the Grand 
 Seniour, clad in the military costume of his coun* 
 try.— [Q$- See Frontispiece .'] 
 
 Robert is remarkab y abstemious and otherwise 
 aorrect in his habits — never known to he gnilty of 
 profanity— is civil and agreeable in his manners, po- 
 lite and condescending to all who visit him, and al- 
 way willing to gratify the curiosity of such as feel 
 disposed to inspect the internal part of his cell- and 
 ever grateful for presents made him. Heappears 
 perfectly reconciled to and satisfied with his retired 
 situation, and on the writer's expressing some sur- 
 prize thai h£ snouid prefer a seciuded'life, to that 
 ©f the enjoyment of society, he observed that he 
 had been too long the subject of the frowns and per- 
 secutions of a portion of his fellow beings, to derive 
 that pleasure and satisfaction from their society which 
 the less unfortunate might naturally enjoy. 
 
 The walls of his cave or cell, are constructed 
 principally of round stones, of inconsiderable size 
 rudely thrown together, and externally have as much 
 the appearance of being the produce of nature as of 
 art ; and although they form a square of thirty or 
 forty feet in circumference, yet are so thick and 
 massy, as to enclose only a single apartment of not 
 sufficient size to contain more than two or three 
 persons at a time, and so low as not to admit of their 
 standing erect, and indeed is in every respect of 
 much less comfortable construction than many of our 
 pig pens ! — about the centre there is a 6re place 
 rudely formed, from which proceeds a fiue in form 
 of a chimney — and at the extreme end of his cell 
 Robert has constructed a birth or bunk, in which, 
 filled with rags and straw, he reposes at night — 
 beside the fire place stands a block, detached from 
 *he batt of an oak ? which not only serve* him for 
 
ROBERT THE HERMIT. 20 
 
 i sc.it and table, but being partly hollow, inverted, 
 for a morter, in which he occasionally pounds his 
 corn, and of which when sufficiently refined, be man- 
 ufactures his bread— in cooking utensils Robert is 
 quite deficient- the one half of an iron pot is the 
 only article made use of by him, in which he pre- 
 pares his food — a small piece of iron hoop serves 
 him for a knife, and a few articles of damaged delf 
 ware, and an old sea bucket, for the conveyance of 
 water from a neighboring spnng. are nearly the 
 whole contents of his wretched hovel ! — the materi- 
 als of which the roof is constructed, are similar to 
 those which compose the walls of his cell ; and al- 
 though of many tons in weight, is altogether sup- 
 ported by a few slender half decayed props, on the 
 Strength of which depends the life of poor Robert,, 
 should thev fail, without the possibility of an escape, 
 his hut would instantaniously become his grave ! — 
 It is to obtain for him a more safe and convenient 
 habitation, that has induced the author to issue this 
 work, a great proportion of the profits of which 
 will be devoted to that purpose. 
 
 To his gloomy cell there are but one or two aper- 
 tures or loophole*, for the admission of light which 
 in winter are completely closed (as is every crack 
 and crevice) with seaweed-^-this renders the apart- 
 ment still more dark and gloomy than it otherwise 
 would be, as when the door is closed to expel the 
 cold, Robert remains within, day and night, in almost 
 total darkness. In summer Robert employs a con- 
 siderable portion of his time in the cultivation of a 
 small spot of ground, contiguous to his hut, of 7 or 
 8 rods square, which he has inclosed in an ingenious 
 manner with small twigs and interwoven branches of 
 hemlock and juniper — the soil is so extremely bar- 
 ren and unproductive, that it seldom produces an- 
 nually more than three ox four bushels of potatoes.. 
 
36 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF 
 
 a perk or two of corn, and a few quarts of beans ! — 
 yet with this small Top, Robert is apparently bet- 
 ter satisfied and more thankful than many, whose in- 
 satiable thirst for worldly gain, leads them, not to an 
 acknowledgment of gratitude due the Supreme Au- 
 thor of all good gifts, but rather (in imitation of the 
 one of whom we read) to most bitter complaints, that 
 their barns are not of sufficient size to contain their 
 abundant ciops 1 
 
 Having been told that Robert devoted a portion of 
 his time to reading, I offered to present him with 
 a Bible, and some religious Tracts, for which he ap- 
 peared grateful, but informed me that he was already 
 in possession of both — the gift of a pious lady of 
 Providence— which led me to make some enquiries as 
 regarded his religious sentiments — his opinion of the 
 existence of a Supreme Being — of the immortality 
 of the soul — of future rewards and punishments, &c, 
 —to which he unhesitatingly replied, that he never 
 doubted the existence of a Supreme Being, from . 
 whom although invisible to us, nothing could be 
 eonoealed and to w T hom he believed we were all ac- 
 countable beings, and would hereafter receive re- 
 wards or punishments according to the deeds of the 
 body — from this belief he said he derived great con- 
 solation — for, although great bad been his trials and 
 troubles in this world, he was not without a hope, 
 that by complying with the terms of the gospel of a 
 blessed Redeemer, he might be permitted in another 
 to participate in those eternal enjoyments which 
 were the promised rewards of the faithful. 
 
 Humble a^d retired as maybe the situation of 
 Robert, if such truly are his sentiments, and such his 
 wet) grounded hopes, altho' his bed may be straw, and 
 his table a block — he must be acknowledged a hap- 
 py man —and, indeed, infinitely more so than when 
 unjustly held in bondage, and compelled to yield to 
 the commands of a tyrannical task-master— and forv 
 
ROBERT THE HERMIT. Si 
 
 iunaie no doubt would thousands of bis enslaved fel- 
 low beings at the south, conceive themselves, if they 
 were privileged like him, to breathe the pure air 
 of freedom, even in an hovel more gloomy and 
 wretched, if possible, than the one which he now 
 claims as his own. 
 
 As the narrator has imputed a great portion of his 
 sufferings in early life, to the exerc ; se of wh;»t the 
 «' Republicans" at the south, denominate a '* Consti- 
 tutional right " (to wit.) that of enslaving a por- 
 tion of their fellow beings of that persecuted race, 
 who are so unfortunate as to differ with them in the 
 complexion of their skins — the writer begs liberty 
 to make this the subject of his closing remarks. 
 
 Our forefathers, persecuted and hunted from their 
 native land, committed themselves to the bosom of 
 the deep, choosing to associate with the monsters of 
 the ocean, and to wander at large amid storms and 
 tempests ; rather than sacrifice their religion and 
 liberties to the inquisition of an inexorable tyrant, 
 Guided by heaven to these solitary shores, nature 
 received them with open arms and joyfully pressed 
 them to her rugged breast. By their toils and per- 
 severance, by that virtue derived from pure religion, 
 and that industry inspired by liberty, they rapidly 
 increased to a degree of population and opulence 
 which commanded national respectability — and happy 
 should we be could we here add, that such were the 
 principles that continued not only to govern them to 
 the last, but the generation that succeeded them — - 
 But, alas ! it is truth too firmly established, that they, 
 'ere the elapse of many years, as if forgetful of their 
 own persecutions, became in their turn the perse- 
 cutors vind oppressors o f a portion of their unoffend- 
 ing fellow beings ! -kidnapping and consigning to 
 slavery the free born sons of Africa, soon became a 
 traffic, in which some of almost every state in the 
 anion were engaged — and which was attended in 
 
32 LIVE AND ADVENTUKES OF 
 
 many instances with acts of the most cruel barbarity^ 
 —for no other fault or crime than that of being bom 
 black, in an unsuspecting moment they were seized, 
 forced from their own country, conveyed to this, 
 where husbands and wives, parents and children, 
 were seperated with as much unconcern as sheep 
 and lambs by the. butcher, and with the same indif- 
 ference disposed of to the highest bidders S — and in 
 bondage were for the most trivial ' ffences made the 
 subjects of torture and punishments to a degree that 
 would cause humanity to recoil at a bear recital* 
 But to the great honour of the sons of New-England, 
 be it mentioned, that they soon became sensible of 
 the wickedness of this abominable traffic, and a strict 
 prohibition was the consequence — an example of hu- 
 manity, which was soon followed by the middle 
 states, and in which at the present day we believe 
 slavery has become totally extinct. 
 
 But, not so with those who inhabit the southern 
 section of our country, who, governed more hy prin- 
 ciples of self interest, thin of humanity, at the pre- 
 sent day feast upon tie. fruits of the toils , of thou- 
 sands of their enslaved fellow beings— and by whom 
 in some instances, they are treated .vithless humanity 
 than what the beasts of the field receive ! These 
 (or a portion of them) are those who profess to be 
 the zealous advocates of the u rights of man !" and 
 the professed admirers of that admirable production 
 of human wisdom, the Declaration of Independence, 
 wherein if is proclaimed that k ' all men are bom 
 f*iee and equal ! * 
 
 *'! would not have a slave to till mv ground, 
 
 To carry roe, to fan me while I sleep, 
 
 And tremble when I va e e, for all the wealth 
 
 That sinews, bought and soM, have ever earn'dk 
 
 No —dear as freedom is, and m m heart's 
 
 Just estimation prised above all prieej 
 
 1 had much rathe* be myself a slave, 
 
 And wear the bonds, than faston them on him.** 
 
ROBERT THE HERMIT. 3# 
 
 The heart would sicken at the recital of the 
 punishments inflicted upon and the extreme sufferings 
 of the unhappy slaves of the south — indeed so goard- 
 ing is the yoke of bondage, that while some are driv- 
 en to the desperate act of not only destroying their 
 own lives, but that of their wretched offspring — oth» 
 ers seek to obtain their freedom by secreting them- 
 selves in thick swamps and marshes ; where they re- 
 main concealed until they either fall victims to, or 
 are compelled by hunger to return again to their 
 masters, and submit to the punishment which those 
 unfeeling wretches deem the merited reward of their 
 disobedience ! A remarkable instance of the latter, 
 occurred in the State of North Carolina about 14 
 years ago, and although the particulars appeared in 
 many of our public prints, at that time, yet as they 
 may have escaped the notice of many of our readers, 
 we have thought that it would not be improper to re- 
 publish them- they are from the pen of a respecta- 
 ble gem,. ian of Petersburg!*, communicated to his 
 friend in New-York.— they follow ; 
 
 " While I resided in Newbern, N.C. in 1814, be- 
 ing informed that a Negro woman and two small 
 children, had been that day brought in. who had been 
 runaways for several years, I felt a wish to go and 
 see them particularly as there was something curi- 
 ous connected with their history. My friend ac- 
 compained me to the jai!, for they had been lodged 
 there for safe keeping. —We there learned the par* 
 ticulars of the life which they lived, or rather the 
 miserable existence which they dragged out, during 
 the seven year9 which they had spent in the swamps^ 
 in the neighborhood of Newbern. 
 
 The owner of this woman, about seven years pre- 
 viously, removed to the western country, and car- 
 tied with him all his slaves, except this woman 
 &M) an infant girl, then in the arms of its mother^ 
 
Si LIVE AND ADVENTURES "&F 
 
 who, rather than be separated from her husband, 
 who was owned by another person, timely eloped 
 with her child, and completely avoided the vigi- 
 lance of her pursuers. 
 
 Those who are acquainted with the lower sec- 
 tion of that state, well know that it abounds in 
 marshes and fens over grown with weeds, and in- 
 terspersed, in' some places with clumps of pine 
 trees. In one of those dreary retreats this woman 
 found means to conceal herself for the space of 
 seven years : and to find means also for her sub- 
 sistence, partly by her own exertions and the as- 
 sistance of her husband, who would occasionally 
 make her a visit. Living in this situation, she soop 
 had an additional burthen upon her hands by the 
 feirth of another child. 
 
 The manner in which she concealed herself 
 as well as her children from the discovery, was 
 truly singular. By the strictest discipline she pre- 
 vented tbem ever crying aloud ; she compelled them 
 to stifle their little cries and complaints, though 
 urged to it by pinching hunger, or the severest 
 *old. She prohibited them from speaking louder 
 than a uhisper. This may appear strange to ref- 
 late, but it is certainly true; and as a proof that 
 bo deception was used in this case it was satisfae- 
 torily ascertained, that after they had remained in 
 town for more than a month, in the company of 
 children who were noisy and clamorous, they were 
 sot known in a single instance to raise their voices 
 higher than a soft whisper. At first, it was with 
 great difficulty that they could stand or walk erect, 
 and when they did attempt to walk, it was with 
 a low stoop, the bust inclining forward, and with 
 a hasty step like a patridge. But their favorite 
 position was that of squatting upon their hams< 
 .lh this posture, they could remain for hours wkfc 
 
KOBE-RT THE HERMIT. 35 
 
 Oilt any apparent weariness, and at a given signal 
 would move one after the other with great facility, 
 anrl at the same time with so much caution, that 
 not the least noise could be heard by their footsteps-. 
 
 Their method for subsistence 'was the most ex- 
 traordinary ; sometimes the husband, according to 
 the woman's account would fail to bring them sup- 
 plies ; and whether the fear of detection prevented 
 her from intruding on the rights of others, or wheth- 
 er she was prevented by conscientious motives is 
 not for me to determine — but in this dreadful ex- 
 igence, she would, for the support of herself and 
 children, have recourse to expedients which nothing 
 but the most pressing necessity could ever suggest. 
 
 Frogs and terrapins were considered as rare dain- 
 ties, and even snakes would be taken ;>s a lawful 
 prize to satisfy the calls of hunger. — ft was the 
 ouslom, said the woman in the little family, when 
 they >. ; ade up a fire in the night, and this was done 
 only m the cold nights of tvinter» for one to sit 
 up. while the others slept. The one who watched 
 had a double duty to perform — not only to do the 
 ordinary duty of a centinel, but to watch for mice ; 
 which they contrived in the following manner. The 
 person watching, would spread a little meat on the 
 ground, or a few grains of corn or peas, or for 
 want of the^e, a crust of bread when they had it ; 
 over which an old handkerchief or piece of cloth, 
 was spread, then observing a profound and death, 
 like silence, the mice would creep from their re- 
 treats in order to possess themselves of the bait. 
 ■—The centinel, true to his post, as soon as the 
 cloth was moved by the vagrant mouse, would 
 very dexteriously smack down a pair of hands up- 
 on him, and secure him for purposes yet to be 
 mentioned. The flesh, as may be supposed, wae 
 *s$ed for food, which they devoured with as little 
 
$6 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF 
 
 eeremony as a boy would eat a snow bird ; but e- 
 ven the skin was not thrown away : for they being 
 earefully preserved, the hair or fur was picked off* 
 and mixed with wool or cotton for the purpose of 
 making gloves and stockings— and they managed to 
 spin up the materials they could procure* by meant 
 of a stick about six or eight inches in length. 
 — This was held in the left hand, while, with the 
 right, they held the materials to be spun, they gave 
 us a specimen of their adroitness in this art ; and 
 the little boy, who was not above five years old, 
 couid manage his stick with surprising dexterity, 
 —■Several pair of stockings and gloves were shown, 
 which had been knit by these singular beings, du- 
 ring their voluntary banishment. — They were grotes- 
 que enough in their appearance, and were made 
 up of a greater medly of materials than are general- 
 ly used in the civilized world. 
 
 How much longer this deluded African, witU 
 her two wretched children would have remained 
 in the comfortless savannahs of North Carolina^ 
 is not known, had not the woman been deserted by 
 her husband ; — Being deprived of the solace she 
 derived from his transient visits, and the scanty 
 subsistence she received from his hand, her situa- 
 tion became miserable beyond description. At length 
 emaciated with hunger she crept to the road, gave 
 herself up with her equally meagre looking charge, 
 to the first person she saw, who happened very 
 fortunately to be a man, with his cart going to- 
 wards town — the sight indeed, to the citizen, was 
 a novel one, if we may judge from the number 
 who crowded to see and determine for themselves* 
 
THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 THE COLLECTION OF 
 NORTH CAROLINIANA 
 
 CC326.1 
 T86L