ne outside of the
little band who so masterly managed the affair knows anything of it.
This was wise; and I would to God other friends had acted thus. Mr.
Williams's trip to Christiana, and the many incidents connected
therewith, will be found in the account of his trial; for he was
subsequently arrested and thrown into the cold cells of a loathsome jail
for this good act of simple Christian duty; but, resolute to the last,
he publicly stated that he had been to Christiana, and, to use his own
words, "I done it, and will do it again." Brave man, receive my thanks!

Of the Special Committee I can only say that they proved themselves men;
and through the darkest hours of the trials that followed, they were
found faithful to their trust, never for one moment deserting those who
were compelled to suffer. Many, many innocent men residing in the
vicinity of Christiana, the ground where the first battle was fought for
liberty in Pennsylvania, were seized, torn from their families, and,
like Williams, thrown into prison for long, weary months, to be tried
for their lives. By them this Committee stood, giving them every
consolation and comfort, furnishing them with clothes, and attending to
their wants, giving money to themselves and families, and procuring for
them the best legal counsel. This I know, and much more of which it is
not wise, even now, to speak: 't is enough to say they were friends when
and where it cost something to be friends, and true brothers where
brothers were needed.

After this lengthy digression, I will return, and speak of the riot and
the events immediately preceding it.

The information brought by Mr. Williams spread through the vicinity like
a fire in the prairies; and when I went home from my work in the
evening, I found Pinckney (whom I should have said before was my
brother-in-law), Abraham Johnson, Samuel Thompson, and Joshua Kite at my
house, all of them excited about the rumor. I laughed at them, and said
it was all talk. This was the 10th of September, 1851. They stopped for
the night with us, and we went to bed as usual. Before daylight, Joshua
Kite rose, and started for his home. Directly, he ran back to the house,
burst open the door, crying, "O William! kidnappers! kidnappers!"

He said that, when he was just beyond the yard, two men crossed before
him, as if to stop him, and others came up on either side. As he said
this, they had reached the door. Joshua ran up stairs, (we slept up
s