nly the slave, but
also the son of William Y. Day, of Taylor's Mount, Maryland. The
faintest shade of colored blood was hardly discernible in this
passenger. He relied wholly on his father's white blood to secure him
freedom. Having resolved to serve no longer as a slave, he concluded to
"hold up his head and put on airs." He reached Baltimore safely without
being discovered or suspected of being on the Underground Rail Road, as
far as he was aware of. Here he tried for the first time to pass for
white; the attempt proved a success beyond his expectation. Indeed he
could but wonder how it was that he had never before hit upon such an
expedient to rid himself of his unhappy lot. Although a man of only
twenty-eight years of age, he was foreman of his master's farm, but he
was not particularly favored in any way on this account. His master and
father endeavored to hold the reins very tightly upon him. Not even
allowing him the privilege of visiting around on neighboring
plantations. Perhaps the master thought the family likeness was rather
too discernible. John believed that on this account all privileges were
denied him, and he resolved to escape. His mother, Harriet, and sister,
Frances, were named as near kin whom he had left behind. John was quite
smart, and looked none the worse for having so much of his master's
blood in his veins. The master was alone to blame for John's escape, as
he passed on his (the master's) color.

[Illustration: ]

ESCAPING WITH MASTER'S CARRIAGES AND HORSES.

HARRIET SHEPHARD, AND HER FIVE CHILDREN, WITH FIVE OTHER PASSENGERS.

One morning about the first of November, in 1855, the sleepy,
slave-holding neighborhood of Chestertown, Maryland, was doubtless
deeply excited on learning that eleven head of slaves, four head of
horses, and two carriages were missing. It is but reasonable to suppose
that the first report must have produced a shock, scarcely less stunning
than an earthquake. Abolitionists, emissaries, and incendiaries were
farther below par than ever. It may be supposed that cursings and
threatenings were breathed out by a deeply agitated community for days
in succession.

Harriet Shephard, the mother of five children, for whom she felt of
course a mother's love, could not bear the thought of having her
offspring compelled to wear the miserable yoke of Slavery, as she had
been compelled to do. By her own personal experience, Harriet could very
well judge what their fate