sell her and her children, and he warned the people not to bid for him, for he would no longer be a slave to any man, and if any one bought him, he would lose his money.  He added, “I thought it right to say this.”  I then spoke to the crowd.  “My father,” said I, “has long been one of your first doctors, and do you think it right for him to sell my mother and his children in this way?”

“I was sold, and my brother also, and the rest, although my brother said to the crowd what I had said.  We soon made our escape, and are now both in the city.  I am a blacksmith, and have worked six months in one shop, in New York, with white journeymen, not one of whom believes, I suppose, that I am a colored man.”

It was not surprising, for so fair was his complexion, that with the aid of a brown wig, after he had cut off his hair, he was completely disguised.  He soon notified his brother, who lived in another part of the city, and both put themselves out of harm’s way.  They were remarkably fine young men, and it seemed a special Providence that I should find them in such a large city, and direct them to escape from their pursuer, within one hour after I left my house in Brooklyn.  I felt it to be an answer to prayer.

4.  One day, when I lived in New York City, a colored man came running to my house, and in a hurried manner, said:  “Is this Mr. Tappan?” On replying in the affirmative, he said:  “I have driven my master from Baltimore.  He has just arrived, and the servants are taking off the baggage at the Astor House.  I inquired of a person passing by, where you lived.  He said, 80, White Street, and I have run here, to tell you that you may give notice to a man who has escaped from my master, to this city, that the object of this journey is to find him and take him back to Slavery.”

The man hurried back, so that he need not be missed by his master, who believed that this coachman, who had lived years with him, was his confidential servant, and would be true to his interest.

I went immediately to the house of a colored friend, to describe the fugitive and see if we could not concert measures to protect him.  “I think,” said he, “that I know the man, by your description, and that he boards in this house.  He will soon come in from South Street, where he has worked to-day.”  While we were consulting together, sure enough, the man came in, and was most glad to have the opportunity thus afforded, of secreting himself.

I have not strength to dictate much more, although many other instances occur to me of most remarkable providential occurrences, of the escape of fugitives within my knowledge.  I used to say that I was the owner of half-a-horse that was in active service, near the Susquehanna River.  This horse I owned jointly with another friend of the slave, dedicating the animal to the service of the Underground Rail Road.