If such lawless violence had been practised upon any white citizens, the Executive of Pennsylvania would have immediately offered a high reward for the apprehension of the aggressors; but the victims belonged to a despised caste, and nothing was done to repair their wrongs.  Friend Hopper felt the blood boil in his veins when he heard of this cruel outrage, and his first wish was to have the offenders punished; but as soon as he had time to reflect, he said, “I cannot find it in my heart to urge this subject upon the notice of the Executive; for death would be the penalty if those wretches were convicted.”

There were many highly respectable individuals among the colored people of Philadelphia.  Richard Allen, who had been a slave, purchased freedom with the proceeds of his own industry.  He married, and established himself as a shoemaker in that city, where he acquired considerable property, and built a three-story brick house.  He was the principal agent in organizing the first congregation of colored people in Philadelphia, and was their pastor to the day of his death, without asking or receiving any compensation.  During the latter part of his life, he was Bishop of their Methodist Episcopal Church.  Absalom Jones, a much respected colored man, was his colleague.  In 1793, when the yellow fever was raging, it was extremely difficult to procure attendants for the sick on any terms; and the few who would consent to render service, demanded exorbitant prices.  But Bishop Allen and Rev. Mr. Jones never hesitated to go wherever they could be useful; and with them, the compensation was always a secondary consideration.  When the pestilence had abated, the mayor sent them a certificate expressing his approbation of their conduct.  But even these men, whose worth commanded respect, were not safe from the legalized curse that rests upon their hunted race.  A Southern speculator arrested Bishop Allen, and claimed him as a fugitive slave, whom he had bought running.  The constable employed to serve the warrant was ashamed to drag the good man through the streets; and he merely said, in a respectful tone, “Mr. Allen, you will soon come down to Alderman Todd’s office, will you?”

The fugitive, whom they were seeking, had absconded only four years previous; and everybody in Philadelphia, knew that Richard Allen had been living there more than twenty years.  Yet the speculator and his sons swore unblushingly that he was the identical slave they had purchased.  Mr. Allen thought he ought to have some redress for this outrage; “For,” said he, “if it had not been for the kindness of the officer, I might have been dragged through the streets like a felon.”

Isaac T. Hopper was consulted, and a civil suit commenced.  Eight hundred dollars bail was demanded, and the speculator, being unable to procure it, was lodged in the debtor’s prison.  When he had been there three months, Mr. Allen caused him to be discharged; saying he did not wish to persecute the man, but merely to teach him not to take up free people again, for the purpose of carrying them into slavery.