Zebulon Thomas, and send the others on foot to Dr. Eshleman. Arriving at a wood near the town, he separated them as directed. When he arrived at Zebulon Thomas's house and Zebulon saw the number he had, he advised him not to stop a moment, but to keep on toward John Vickers. Eusebius remarked that he thought he had gone far enough, but Zebulon, knowing the risk of delay just then, replied, "We cannot talk now, this is a very dangerous pro-slavery place; keep on and I will gear up and overtake thee soon." As he was starting he saw the remainder of the party still following him. Whether they had failed to comprehend his directions, or were afraid to go without a guide, or were unwilling to be separated from the others, he could not devise, and he began to tell about them. Zebulon quickly interrupted him and told him to go on and he would attend to them. He drove on some distance to a suitable place, where he waited until Zebulon with his colored men came up with the others, and took them on toward John Vickers' place. Returning to Thomas's, he ate his breakfast, had his horses fed, and then started homeward, rejoiced that he had passed them so far in safety.

This party left their master's plantation in Maryland about eight o'clock the night before, taking with them a couple of two-horse carriages, and arrived in Wilmington early next morning. They went immediately to Thomas Garrett's. He told them to leave the horses hitched on the street, while he conducted them quickly out of town, and directed them up the Kennett "pike," to friends at Longwood. Their meeting with a number of them together at that place was casual.

About eleven o'clock Thomas Garrett passed along the street and called attention to the horses; said they looked in bad condition, and wondered whose they were. No one knew, but some observed that they had seen them there since early in the morning. He suggested their being taken to a stable and cared for. Perhaps some people had stolen them in the night and driven them to Wilmington for a ride, or for some other purpose. If the owners should call they could be told where to find them, and the matter be explained. The crowd which had then collected thought this the best thing to do, as the horses looked badly in need of provender. The news soon spread over town. In the afternoon the slave-hunters came, and were told where the horses were. They supposed then that the slaves were hidden somewhere in the town, and would be crawling out of their coverts at night. So every suspected place was well watched-Thomas Garrett's in particular. The hunters remained in town a day or two and continued an assiduous and determined search, but hearing no tidings whatever of their slaves, they abandoned their efforts and returned home.

The fugitives reached the home of Graceanna Lewis and sisters, where they were separated and forwarded on different roads toward Canada.

About the middle of March 1861, two women, both somewhat crippled, with four children, were brought to Eusebius Barnard's place late in the evening. The reasons given for leaving their master, were that one or more of the children were about to be sold, and that in their own crippled condition they could not perform the tasks given them each day without great fatigue and

suffering. They were given food and comfortable beds. At two o'clock in the morning Eusebius R. was called. He had retired early in the evening, before the party arrived, as he had to prepare a lecture next day to deliver at the close of the session of Fairville Seminary which he was attending, five miles from home.

It was the custom to select one or two members of each class to give a lecture on Commencement Day upon such subject as the professors might select. One hour was allotted to each class for this purpose. The subject given to Eusebius R. Barnard was Electricity. Being called at two o'clock, the hour invariably fixed for starting with fugitives, he knew well what it meant. He was always willing to rise at night and do whatever was asked of him, but having only three days left of the session, and that being the last day of the week, on which they had but few lessons to recite, he wished to devote the whole day, aside from the time required for those lessons, in preparing himself to meet the large audience which always assembled on those occasions, to give an instructive lecture in a clear manner, and to make it still more interesting by illustrating different parts of it with appropriate apparatus. He therefore asked to be excused from going that morning. But excuses were vain. The demand was absolute. The women and children had to be hurried along as fast as possible, and no one could then go in his stead. For once he arose with reluctance, and mused pensively over the gloomy prospect of preparing his lecture that day.

He took them to the nearest station, one to which he seldom went, thinking if they could be received there it would enable him to return soon. But peculiar circum

stances just then made it impossible for the family to give any assistance at that time. He went to another place, which formerly was a good station, but the member of the family who had given it his personal supervision for years, having recently died, the others did not feel easy to undertake the continuance of the work. This second refusal came to him like a stunning blow. He knew not what to do next. He was off his usual route. It was then breakfast time, and he had been travelling since two o'clock through deep, muddy roads. He was asked to get out and take breakfast, but he declined. The women were invited; they accepted. But he was not in a mood to wait for them. He said they were cripples and bundled up, and it would take too long for them to get out and eat. The family then brought victuals out to them, and a plate for him. But he again declined, saying "he could not eat anything; it would choke him." The disappointment that morning had spoiled his appetite. He was in a complete dilemma as to what to do. He inquired for a place he had frequently heard his mother speak of. The family advised him not to go there, but directed him to a person in Coatesville. He persisted in going to the nearest place. Again they advised him not to go, but gave no reasons. But he wanted to unload quickly and get home, and was therefore willing to risk more than usual. He went there. He was not acquainted with any of the family. He asked first for the man; was told he was not at home. Then he asked for the wite, to whom he told his errand. She would not accept the fugitives. He begged her to accomodate him that time. But she still refused, as they were not in that business and didn't wish to

begin it. On his way out the lane he met a man whom he supposed to be the one he wished to see; but he was afraid to importune any further, and passed silently by. In a few days Eusebius Barnard received a note from this man requesting him not to send any more fugitives to his place as he did not wish to identify himself with the work.

Thus disappointed at every step, Eusebius R. Barnard started next for the place of their old, tried and true friend, Dr. Eshleman. It was nearly night when he arrived there; neither he nor his horses having eaten anything all day. While dragging along at a slow, labored gait, through the deep, heavy mud, he met a stranger who looked scrutinizingly at him, and then peering into the wagon, asked what he had there. Fear for a moment tingled through every nerve. He imagined the man must be a slave-hunter, for he could not suppose that any other stranger would have the audacity to act in that manner. He gave a short answer, and drove on with apparent unconcern. The inquisitive stranger stood there for awhile gazing at him, and then started off, much to the relief of Eusebius' mind.

It was nearly night when he reached Dr. Eshleman's. He related his day's tribulations to the good doctor, who told him to unload and he would take care of the party. These were the most joyous words that fell upon his ears that day.

"Joy never feasts so high,

As when the first course is of misery."

After the women and children were taken into the house, he was asked to stay, have supper, and let his horses be fed. He accepted the invitation for the horses,