In 1896, Wilbur H. Siebert sent this questionnaire to the descendents of Rowland Thomas and Rachel Gilpin Robinson at Rokeby, their home in Ferrisburgh, Vermont. Siebert, an associate professor of history at Ohio State University, used this survey to gather data from aged abolitionists and, more often, from their children, for his book on the Underground Railroad, published in 1898. Siebert's request was answered by the author Rowland E. Robinson, Rowland and Rachel's youngest child, then 63 years old. His lengthy reply was clear, thoughtful, and to the point. He had been a child during the 1830s and 1840s, but recalled "seeing four fugitives at a time in my father's house and quite often one or two harboring there." His memory of the four was still vivid, since one "carried the first pistols I ever saw and other [illegible] the first bowie knife." He says nothing of attempted captures or that fugitives were concealed at Rokeby.

In 1935 Siebert contacted the Robinsons again for another book, this time focused on the Underground Railroad in Vermont. Now a generation later, this request was answered by the abolitionist's grandson and namesake. The two letters have barely a point in common. The second is brief and clearly taken, not from history, but from R. E. Robinson's Underground Railroad stories. Robinson is known primarily for his books of Vermont folktales, but late in his career he wrote several Underground Railroad stories in which the compassionate and clever Yankees outsmart the evil slave catchers. His son's description of grandfather foiling the slave catcher and county sheriff in his response to Siebert, as well as his use of "we uns" and "kotched" are taken straight from the pages of Out of Bondage.

The late nineteenth century saw a flowering of abolitionist reminiscences and tales of the Underground Railroad capped, in 1898, by Siebert's book, which remained the standard work for decades. Siebert's book and his standing as a professor of history elevated the legend and lore of the Underground Railroad to the status of serious history. This romantic image went unchallenged until 1961, when Larry Gara took the mythology apart piece by piece and exposed the kernels of truth from which it grew. Gara argued convincingly that unlike the well-oiled, efficient, and clandestine railroad of lore, actual aid to fugitives was provided casually if not haphazardly and often delivered quite openly, especially in New England. He contended that North and South joined in aggrandizing the extent and effectiveness of the Underground Railroad, since it served each of their propaganda needs equally.

But in permanently altering Underground Railroad historiography, Gara's book also seems to have brought it to a premature end. Instead of the outpouring of revisionist studies one might have expected, only a few have appeared and those relatively recently. They have looked at individual fugitives or locales, however, and in narrowing their focus have revealed much more rather than less about this perplexing chapter of American history. It is in this case study approach, I believe, that the future of Underground Railroad historiography lies. And it is a Vermont case study I offer today.

Rowland Thomas and Rachel Gilpin Robinson were early converts to Garrisonian abolitionism. Devout Quakers, they believed that slavery was a sin to be opposed by every acceptable means, including aid to fugitive slaves. Their voluminous correspondence contains a rare cache of letters providing specific and detailed information on several fugitives that forms the basis of our interpretation at Rokeby Museum and will be my focus today.

Let's begin with a particularly rich letter from Oliver Johnson, a Vermonter and most regular and frequent correspondent who wrote from his various postings as an anti-slavery agent. The letter was sent in January1837 from Jenner Township, Pennsylvania, located just 30 miles from "the line." Being so near Maryland, the area had "at all times no small number of runaway slaves, but they are generally caught unless they proceed farther north." Johnson wrote to interest Robinson in hiring one of those runaways, Simon, who had been sold to a "soul-driver" and for whose capture a reward had been posted. "When he came here (some time in December) . . . he was destitute of decent clothing, and unable to proceed . . . William C. Griffith, the son of a friend, who has often rendered assistance to runaways, kindly offered to keep him until spring . . . it is not considered safe for him to remain here after winter has gone by as search will no doubt be made for him."

Many of these details confirm the conclusions of historians. In their exhaustive book on runaway slaves, John Hope Franklin and Loren Schweninger state that the most common reason for absconding was the fear or fact of being sold, and that slaves often timed their escapes carefully. Holidays, when slaves commonly received a few days' rest, gave runaways a modest head start, as absences would go undetected for a day or two. Simon escaped in December—possibly at Christmas time. And it is also clear that slaves were commonly recaptured from border regions—frequently without the aid or even the knowledge of local officials.

Johnson's letter continued, giving Simon an excellent job reference. "He is 28 years old, and appeared to me to be an honest, likely man . . . I was so well pleased with his appearance. . . that I could not help thinking he would be a good man for you to hire. Mr. Griffith says that he is very trustworthy, of a kind disposition, and knows how to do almost all kinds of farm work. He is used to teaming, and is very good to manage horses. He says that he could beat any man in the neighborhood where he lived at mowing, cradling, or pitching."

Letters from New York Quakers Charles Marriott and Joseph Beale in 1842 and 1844 contain similar passages. Beale said of fugitive Jeremiah Snowden that "Brother John Nickolson thinks Jeremiah can be very useful to a farmer needing such a man." And Marriott assured Robinson that John Williams was "a good chopper and farmer," and that his wife Martha was "useful and well conducted in the house."

The farm operation at Rokeby was at its height during these years—the so-called "golden age" of Vermont sheep farming—and the Robinsons had quite small families, so the need for hired hands was probably constant. Johnson, Beale, and Marriott were well aware of that need, and no doubt thought of Rokeby as a likely place for fugitives needing work. R. E. Robinson also mentioned work in his 1896 letter to Siebert. He identified the Charlotte farm of his uncle and aunt Nathan and Abigail Hoag as a nearby "station" and said that fugitives "sometimes stayed there for months working on the farm." It is clear from these letters that fugitives were driven by the need for work as much as—or more than—by fear for their safety.

But safety was an issue in these letters, and all three correspondents made it abundantly clear that Vermont was a safe haven for fugitives. Johnson said that Simon had "intended going to Canada in the spring, but says he would prefer to stay in the U.S., if he could be safe. I have no doubt he will be perfectly safe with you." John and Martha Williams had been with Marriott's sister since the fall, as work could easily be found for them, but, he said, "the recent decision of the Supreme Court as to the unconstitutionality of jury trial laws for them has decided us to send them further north either to you or to Canada," and then concluded later in the letter, "If they could be taken in by thee, we should think them safer."

The case Marriott referred to was Prigg v. Pennsylvania. Pennsylvania, like Vermont and many other northern states, had passed a personal liberty law in an attempt to circumvent the provisions of the Fugitive Slave Law of 1793. These state laws required masters or slave catchers to seek warrants before apprehending fugitives, and some guaranteed runaways a jury trial before a certificate of removal could be granted. The Prigg decision found Pennsylvania's law—and all others by extension—unconstitutional because it conflicted with a master's right under the federal act. Of course, Prigg would have had the same effect on Vermont's law as on New York's, so Marriott's desire to move the Williamses indicated his belief that recapture would not be attempted in Vermont.

Beale also raised the safety issue, counterposing it directly with work. He said that it would be "safer for him to be in Massachusetts or Vermont if work is to be had for him," and that "we were unwilling to risk his remaining, although we had abundance of work for him at this busy season."

The underground rail of legend ran on a track headed straight to Canada. But Johnson and Marriott both questioned the wisdom of sending fugitives across the border. Johnson expressed his fear that in Canada Simon "may fall into bad company; but if he is under your guardianship, he may become a useful man." Marriott was concerned about work, saying that in Canada, "they [fugitives] are too numerous to obtain profitable employment."

Johnson's January letter and a second one sent in April provide detailed information on how fugitives traveled and support our general understanding of how they were passed along from house to house. Johnson said of Simon's trip that "it will be a great way for him to walk, but not worse than going to Canada." He continued, "I gave him such directions as will enable him to reach Philadelphia, where he will put himself under the direction of our friends, who will give him all needful information concerning the route to New York, at which last place he will be befriended by the 'Committee of Vigilance,' or by members of the Ex. Committee. I trust he will meet with no serious difficulty on the way." In a third letter sent in October, he asked whether "the black man [had] arrived yet from Pennsylvania?"

The vigilance committees, organized and operated primarily by free blacks, were established specifically to aid fugitive slaves. The New York Committee was the first, established in 1835; the Philadelphia Committee was not organized until a few months after Johnson wrote this letter. With officers, dues, meetings, and, sometimes, paid agents, these committees were the closest thing to the kind of organization imagined in the legend. They all had rather shaky existences, however, and were most effective only briefly after passage of the Fugitive Slave Law in 1850. Centered in urban areas—Boston, New York, and Philadelphia—they functioned as nodes in a broad web of activity.

Among the most interesting letters in the Rokeby collection are those between Robinson and Ephram Elliott, a slave owner in Perquimans County, North Carolina. Exchanged in the spring of 1837, they concern the former slave Jesse. Robinson wrote Elliott on Jesse's behalf to negotiate the cost of a freedom paper, "the most anxious wish of his [Jesse's] heart." In his reply, Elliott admitted that Jesse's "situation at this time places it in his power to give me what he thinks proper," but went on to state that he did "not feel disposed to make any title for him for less than Three Hundred Dollars which is not more than one third what I could have had for him before he absconded If I had been disposed to sell him." Robinson wrote to present a counteroffer. "Since leaving thy service he has by his industry and economy laid up 150$ & he is willing to give the whole of this sum for his freedom . . . If Jesse was in possession of a larger sum he would freely offer it all for his freedom." Robinson also made clear his own unwillingness to contribute, saying "much as I and his other friends here may desire his liberty I am bound to inform thee without the least wish to offend that we cannot consciously contribute any thing towards the purchase of a slave even for his liberation; because we believe it would be recognizing a principle which God forbids." Robinson urged Elliott to accept Jesse's offer, noting that "considering his present circumstances & location," it "must be ackgd liberal." Elliott conceded that Jesse "at this time is entirely out of my reach," but held firm on his price nevertheless. Holding on to a hope that Jesse would return voluntarily, he said, "I don't know how Jesse could with clear conscience wish me to take any less . . . If he feels disposed to come back I will meet him at any place that he will mention. And no sum of money or no Temptation shall Separate us."

The Robinson letters provide a wealth of detail that helps us to separate historical fact from fiction. Key to the legend of the underground railroad is pursuit. All the conventions of the popular understanding—the need to operate clandestinely, to communicate in code, to travel at night, and to create hiding places—arise from the assumption of hot pursuit by a determined, ruthless, and often armed slave catcher. While many fugitives were in precisely such danger in the first days and miles of their escapes, it diminished steadily as they put more and more distance between themselves and the slave south. Larry Gara noted that fugitives had already completed the really perilous parts of their journeys before making contact with northern white abolitionists. By the time they reached Vermont, pursuit was no longer an issue, as Oliver Johnson, Joseph Beale, and Charles Marriott all made abundantly clear. Even the slave owner Ephram Elliott conceded that Jesse was "entirely out" of his reach. More important, the correspondence with Elliott was initiated by Robinson, who, by writing, revealed Jesse's precise whereabouts>—something he would certainly not have undertaken if he thought it would put Jesse at risk.

Were fugitive slaves pursued by slave catchers across the borders of Vermont during the antebellum period? That we are still asking this question is testimony to the incredible tenacity and power of the mythological railroad, for I have been unable to find any reliable evidence of it. Ephram Elliott is only one slave owner, but he clearly considered attempting to recapture a fugitive in Vermont to be out of the question. After searching Vermont's antislavery and other newspapers for documentation of those incidents passed on in the oral tradition, Ray Zirblis stated flatly in his 1996 report, "There are no substantiated incidents of organized slave catching in the state." In his 1968 book The Slave catchers, Stanley Campbell noted that it was simply not realistic or economically feasible for slave owners to pursue their property into the far northern states and never had been. Agreeing with Campbell, Gary Collison went so far as to say that in New England, "slave hunters had to be as cautious and secretive as fugitives."

The legend also spread the danger around, insisting that northerners who aided fugitives took great risks; that in breaking the federal law, they exposed themselves to arrest and fine or imprisonment. Attractive as this brave, white abolitionist image may be to some, the tone and content of the Robinson letters certainly belie it. Although there were a few northern martyrs, the vast majority operated openly and with impunity. This aspect of Underground Railroad mythology is most troublesome, since it takes the spotlight off the true heroes—the fugitives—and shines it instead on their white assistants.

The Robinson letters also shed light on the paths the fugitives took. Influenced by the railroad analogy, the underground railroad has been seen as a series of established stations along which a runaway traveled, in what Zirblis has called the "connect the dots approach." And though there clearly were known friends and helpers along the way, each fugitive probably took a slightly, if not wholly, different route influenced more by his own needs and the family, religious, and friendship ties of his helpers than by prescription. Charles Marriott and Joseph Beale, for example, were both Quakers, and connected to Robinson by strong religious ties. Oliver Johnson was a fellow Vermonter and member of the Vermont Anti-Slavery Society. Far from sending the fugitives in their care along an anonymous, predetermined route, they all thought of Rokeby as a possible destination because of the match of work experience and need and their complete trust in Robinson. In his 1896 letter to Siebert, R. E. Robinson noted among those to whom fugitives were passed, Joseph Rogers, who was also a Quaker, a neighbor, and a close friend; and Nathan Hoag and Stephen F. Stevens, who were both Quakers and Robinson relatives. Thus it seems more accurate to envision the underground railroad as a web or network of safe homes based on family, religious, and friendship ties than as a linear road of anonymous stations.

Underground railroad activity seems to have dropped off at Rokeby after 1850. In 1896, R. E. Robinson could not "remember seeing a [illegible] fugitive here after 1850, though now and then an imposter called on us." The index to the Rokeby letter collection also shows that abolition dropped off sharply as the subject of correspondence after 1850. A number of events in the mid-1840s probably contributed to this. A lifelong Garrisonian, Rowland T. Robinson never abandoned the goal of immediate emancipation or his commitment to moral suasion, which meant that he was left out of the majority when activists began to employ political means after 1840. At the 1839 annual meeting of the American Anti-Slavery Society, for example, he was the lone member of the Vermont delegation to vote against both the majority and the use of the ballot to further the cause. He and a small group of "pseudo-anarchists" resorted to disrupting meetings of the Vermont Anti-Slavery Society as their views became more and more marginal. Finally, in 1843, the majority resigned in disgust. The Liberty Party began organizing political clubs that same year and eventually usurped the place formerly held by the abolition societies, leaving Robinson without a venue for action. He also lost his base in the Society of Friends. Charles Marriott and several others were disowned in 1842 for their abolitionist activities, which were "calculated to excite discord and disunity among friends." Robinson survived this incident only to resign his membership a few years later.

Financial troubles at home also preoccupied Robinson, leaving less time and energy for the cause. The price of wool had peaked in 1840, and by 1850, he was looking for other sources of income. He made a substantial investment in his orchard in 1849, for example. And, like many abolitionists, Robinson turned to spiritualism in the years after 1850, conducting seances in his home, making contact with both his deceased father and son.

Despite these changes, Robinson never lost his commitment to full civil rights for African Americans. Immediately after the war, he wrote to the Quartermaster General in Washington, DC, offering shelter and jobs for freedmen. A decade later, he used his position as the executor of an estate to contribute to freedmen's education and sought William Lloyd Garrison's advice on which of the several black colleges was most worthy. Garrison replied in July 1878, suggesting Howard, Wilberforce, Hampton, Fiske, and Berea as possibilities. He made a special plea for Berea, which, he said, had "triumphantly solved the problem whether whites and blacks can be amicably and advantageously educated together."

Robinson died the following year.

The story of the underground railroad as we have interpreted it at Rokeby is not always popular. For many, the romance of the railroad is inextricably tied to notions of danger and secrecy. But taking a close look at the documentary evidence puts the Robinsons' contributions in a new light as well. Rather than mere shelter for a night, Rowland and Rachel Robinson welcomed former slaves fully and freely into their home, gave them employment on the farm, and provided the space and time needed to start life anew. Fugitive slaves escaped with little more than their own courage and determination; at some point they had to leave their old lives behind them and begin new ones as free men and women. This was the opportunity offered by the Robinsons and Rokeby.

Links:
National Park Service
Vermont Historical Society

Home | Your Visit | The Site | The Family | The Underground Railroad | The Collection | Contact Us
© 2000 Rokeby Museum, All Rights Reserved