She had been in Philadelphia thirteen years, and was the mother of a promising family, when in 1808 she was arrested by her last master, as a fugitive slave.  The Virginian who sold her, and two other persons from the South, attended as witnesses.  Isaac T. Hopper also attended, with his trusty friend Thomas Harrison.  When the witnesses were examined, her case appeared utterly hopeless; and in private conversation with Friend Hopper she admitted that she was a slave to the man who claimed her.  Mr. Humphreys, pitying the distress of his honest, industrious workman, offered to advance one hundred dollars toward purchasing her freedom.  But when Isaac T. Hopper and Thomas Harrison attempted to negotiate with the claimant for that purpose, he treated all their offers with the rudest contempt.  They tried to work upon his feelings, by representing the misery he would inflict on her worthy husband and innocent children; but he turned a deaf ear to all their entreaties.  They finally offered to pay him four hundred dollars for a deed of manumission, which at that time was considered a very high price; but he stopped all further discussion by declaring, with a violent oath, that he would not sell her on any terms.  Of course, there was nothing to be done, but to await the issue of the trial.

When the magistrate asked the woman whether she were a slave, Friend Hopper promptly objected to her answering that question, unless he would agree to receive as evidence all she might say.  He declined doing that.  Friend Hopper then made some remarks, in the course of which he said, “The most honest witnesses are often mistaken as to the identity of persons.  It surprises me that the witnesses in this case should be so very positive, when the woman was but sixteen years old at the time they say she eloped, and such a long period has since elapsed.

“The question at stake is as important as life itself to this woman, to her honest husband, and to her poor little innocent children.  For my own part, I conscientiously believe she has a just claim to her freedom.”

All this time, the woman stood holding her little girl and boy by the hand.  She was deeply dejected, but her manners were as calm and dignified, as if she had been one of the best educated ladies in the land.  The children were too young to understand the terrible doom that threatened their mother, but they perceived that their parents were in some great trouble, and the little creatures wept in sympathy.

When Friend Hopper described this scene forty years afterward, he used to say, “I shall never forget the anguish expressed in her handsome countenance, as she looked down upon her children.  I see it as plainly as if it all happened yesterday.”