Kidnappin’ in New York—Peter spends three years in Hartford—couldn’t help thinkin’ of Solena—Hartford Convention—stays a year in Middletown—hires to a man in West Springfield—makes thirty-five dollars fishin’ nights—great revival in Springfield—twenty immersed—sexton of church in Old Springfield—religious sentiments—returns to New York—Solena again—Susan Macy married—pulls up for the Bay State again—lives eighteen months in Westfield—six months in Sharon—Joshua Nichols leaves his wife—Peter goes after him and finds him in Spencertown, New York—takes money back to Mrs. Nichols—returns to Spencertown—lives at Esq. Pratt’s—Works next summer for old Captain Beale—his character—falls in love—married—loses his only child—wife helpless eight months—great revival of 1827—feels more like gittin’ religion—“One sabba’day when the minister preached at me”—a resolution to get religion—how to become a christian—evening prayer-meeting—Peter’s convictions deep and distressing—going home he kneels on a rock and prayed—his prayer—the joy of a redeemed soul—his family rejoice with him. Peter. “Well, I sot a hearin’ Susan’s story till midnight, and that brought back old scenes agin, and there I sot and listened to her story till I had enemost cried my eyes out of my head, and I have only gin you the outline. And that kidnappin’ used to be carried on that way in New York year after year, and it’s carried on yit. ? [15] Why, they used to steal away any and every colored person they could steal, and this is all carried on by northern folks tu, and it’s fifty times worse than Louisiana slavery.
15.  It became so common in New York that there was no safety for a colored person there, and philanthropy and religion demanded some protection for them against such a shocking system.—At last there was a vigilance committee organized for the purpose of ascertaining the names and residences of every colored person in the city; and this committee used regularly to visit all on the roll, and almost every day some one was missing. The result has been that several hundreds of innocent men and women and children have been retaken from their bondage, from the holds of respectable merchantmen in New York, to the parlours of southern gentry in New-Orleans. The facts which have been brought out by this committee are awful beyond description.—It is one of the noblest, and most patriotic and efficient organization on the globe. But their design expands itself beyond the protection and recovery of kidnapped friends;—it also lifts a star of guidance and promise upon the path of the fugitive slave; it helps him on his way to freedom, and not one week passes by without witnessing the glorious results of this humane and benevolent institution, in the protection of the free or the redemption of the enslaved. The Humane Society, whose object is to recover to life those who have been drowned, enlists the patronage and encomiums of the great and good, and yet this Vigilance Committee are insulted and abused by many of the public presses in New York, and most of the city authorities.—Why? Slavery has infused its deadly poison into the heart of the North.
“Well, I stayed in New York till my time was out, and then went to Hartford and worked three years, and enjoyed myself pretty well, only I couldn’t help thinkin’ ’bout Solena. She was mixed up with all my dreams and thoughts, and I used to spend hours and hours in thinkin’ about what I’d lost. But arter all I suffered, I’m kind’a inclined to think ’twas all kind in God to take her away, for arter this, I never was so wicked agin nigh. I hadn’t time or disposition to hunt up my old comrades, and if any time I begun to plunge into sin, then the thought of Solena’s memory would come up afore me and check me in a minute, but I was yit a good ways from rale religion.
“While I was there, in December, 1814, the famous Hartford Convention sot with closed doors, and nobody could find out what they was about, and every body was a talkin’ about it, and they han’t got over talkin’ about it, and I don’t b’lieve they ever will. The same winter the war closed and peace was declared. I could tell a good many stories about the war, but I guess ‘twould make the book rather too long, and every body enemost knows all about the last war.
“Well, I went down to Middletown and stayed a year there, and then I went to hire out to a man in West Springfield, and he was a farmer, and he hadn’t a chick nor child in the world, and he had a share in a fishin’ place on the Connecticut, and he was as clever as the day is long. He let me fish nights and have all I got, and sometimes I’ve made a whole lot of money at one haul, and in that season I made thirty-five dollars jist by fishin’ nights, besides good wages—and I didn’t make a dollar fishin’ for Gideon Morehouse nights for years!
“While I was there a Baptist minister come on from Boston and preached some time, and they had a great revival, and I see twenty immersed down in the Connecticut, and ’twas one of the most solemn scenes that ever I witnessed.
“They went down two by two to the river, and he made a prayer and then sung this hymn, and I shan’t ever forget it, for a good many on ’em was young.
“‘Now in the heat of youthful blood,
Remember your Creator God;
Behold the months come hastening on
When you shall say ‘my joys are gone.’”
“And then he went in and baptized ’em; and I know I felt as though I wished I was a christian, for it seemed to me there was somethin’ very delightful in it, and then they sung and prayed agin, and then went home.
“Arter this I lived in Old Springfield and was sexton of the church there; and while I rung that bell I heard good preachin’ every Sunday, and I larnt more ’bout religion than I’d ever knowed in all my life. I begun to feel a good deal more serious and the need of gettin’ religion.
“Arter my time was out there, I went down to New York, and there I met Solena’s brother, and that brought every thing fresh to mind agin, and for weeks agin I spent sorrowful hours. I thought I had about got over it and the wound was healed; but then ‘twould git tore open agin and bleed afresh, and sorrowful as ever. It did seem to me that nothin’ would banish the image of that gal from my heart.
“I used to call and see Susan Macy occasionally, and she was now Mrs. Williams, and lived in good style tu, for a colored person. She was married at Mr. Macy’s and they made a great weddin’, and all the genteel darkies in New York was there; and I wan’t satisfied with waitin’ on one, I must have two, and if we didn’t have a stir among our color about them times I miss my guess; and Mr. Macy set her out with five hundred dollars, and she had a fine husband and they lived together as comfortable as you please.
“Now I concluded I’d quit the city for good, I spent more money there and had worse habits, and besides all this I wanted to git away as fur as I could from the scene of my disappintment.
“Well, I pulled up stakes agin and put out for the Bay State agin, and I put into Westfield, and stayed there eighteen months, and made money and saved it, and behaved myself, and ‘tended meetin’ every sabba’day, and gained friends and was as respectable as any body. From Westfield I went to Sharon and there I stayed six months, and ‘tended a saw mill, and there was a colored man there by the name of Joshua Nichols, who had married a fine gal, and he lived with her till she had one child and then left her, and went out to Columbia county, New York; and I started off for Albany, and she axed me if I wouldn’t find her ............