W[illiam] J. W[ilson] to Frederick Douglass, December 9, 1859

NOTES BY THE WAY.

MR. EDITOR:—Here I am in the city of Utica, unexpectedly detained several hours.—Perhaps a few strokes from my humble pen will be acceptable to those of your readers with whom I have so often held pleasant converse, through these columns and otherwise, during the past six years. At any rate, I feel irresistibly moved by the spirit to write.

I generally write for your journal and others while on the wing; here to-day, and gone to-morrow. This accounts for the homeliness of my utterances; for I have no time to present them in the elaborately chased scabbard of Rhetoric.

There is at this moment looking over my shoulder a drunken Irishman, (in his normal condition,) sent here I think purposely to annoy me. Look! he assumes an attitude quite theatrical. Hear him:

'I say, misther, aint you the nagur that cussed old Gineral Washinton at Brockett's Bridge?

'No; I never 'cussed' General Washington, nor any body else.'

'Well, didn't ye say ye had seen many an Irishman voting at the polls, who know'd no more about the Constitution than the bastes of the field do about the grace of God?—Deny that, ye nagur, and make my brother a liar, and I`ll settle with you, d'ye mind that now!'

'Well, yes, I believe I did say that,'—(By this time, quite a crowd began to gather around the table, and I was compelled to desist from writing.)

'Now, then, take it back ye spalpeen, quick, d'ye mind!'

'It has now gone too far, my friend, to take it back.'

'Well; are ye going to spake here ye hiritic?'

'No; I have to hurry on to fill an engagement.'

'Then, hurry, or I'll hurry ye, ye blackguard.' I was told that he was hired by a lot of 'Dimicrats,' to 'raise a row' with me.—

As there were no bones broken on either side, and, as the incident was but a legitimate offshoot of Modern Democracy, I did not suffer it to disturb my wonted equanimity.

I have again been to Albany, whither I was summoned to address a public meeting on the evening of Dec. 2nd, a day rendered ever memorable by the judicial slaughter of 'the most honest, truthful, and sincere' man with whom Gov. Wise ever came in contact. If there are any more 'honest, truthful, and sincere' men in Virginia, (outside of Charlestown prison,) and if they set any value upon their necks, let them take warning, and flee the wrath to come, for honesty, truth, and sincerity, find but little sympathy in the bosom of the chivalrous F. F. V's.

John Brown went to pluck the mother of the Presidents from the brink of perdition; to tear aside the veil, and reveal unto Gov. Wise, Judge Parker, and Rev. Mr. Waugh, the volcano upon whose heaving bosom they are slumbering. And for this he was butchered. But he 'still lives.'

His ghost is 'irrepressible.' It is seen and felt throughout the Barbary States, at the noon of the day, as well as the noon of night. It will continue to haunt Slavery and Gov. Wise until they tumble into perdition. But to my visit to Albany. You have already been informed of the firing of 100 guns in demonstration of the sympathy of 'the honest, truthful, and sincere' freedom-loving citizens of the Capital of the Empire State, with the brace old man who not only flung himself against the blood cemented walls of slave-breeding, cradle-plundering Virginia, but with one blow of his God-directed hammer, nailed his revolutionary theses upon the fevered brow of every State of the Union.

It is said, (I know not how true it is,) that when the first gun sent its reverberating thunders into the sanctum of the editor of the Atlas and Argus, that gentleman was concocting a scheme for the preservation of the Union, the Fourth of July, and the Star Spangled Banner, in the event of the election of a Republican Speaker of the House. But he instantly gave up the fruitless job, and con-

cluded to let 'miscellaneous things rip generally.' Leading Democratic politicians raved like madmen, and swore that the cannon should be thrown into the river; but as they thought it might prove a little too heavy, they concluded to catch Stephen Myers, the suspected primum mobile of this firing demonstration, and send him to Africa. But Stephen's peculiar sort of 'what are you going to do abut it?' soon drove them from their determination, and they resolved, in solemn caucus, that the best mode of obtaining revenge, was to vote against 'nigger suffrage' in 1860.

I arrived in Albany, in time to address a very large and enthusiastic meeting held in the Wesleyan Church, of which Rev. Mr. Mason is the venerable and faithful pastor.—Rev. T. D. Miller, a very talented colored clergyman of the Baptist persuasion, addressed the meeting for a few minutes in a strain of impassioned eloquence. I was much pleased with this gentleman. He is a workman that need not be ashamed. He is a man as well as a minister, and whatever concerns humanity, concerns him. He is not one of your knockdown, drag-out, spit-fire, bible thumpers, but a teacher, 'rightly dividing the word of truth.' He is much respected in Albany. Success attend him!

I addressed three other meetings in the city, all of them well attended, despite the inclemency of the weather. On the last evening, an Anti-Slavery Society was founded. This is the first fruit in Albany of the assassination of the glorious old martyr.

I found my old and much esteemed friend, Stephen Myers, Esp., still working as diligently and disinterestedly as ever for the good of Humanity. A more earnest worker for the Cause does not move in the Anti-Slavery ranks. He is respected even by those who are envious of his popularity. He is the oldest U. G. R. R. Conductor in the country. I sincerely believe that he has passed more poor fugitives over the road, and with less recompense, than any man in the land.—If he is too modest to speak for himself, I will speak for him. I believe that were it generally known, as it should be, that he is obliged to travel, day after day, and night af-

ter night, through the streets of Albany, soliciting aid for fugitives from the same people, compelled to board them, get them necessary clothing, passage money, &c., many of the friends of the fugitive would rejoice to help him. Truly, he has a hard lot to contend with. Now, will not some of the friends of the slave, outside of Albany, see to this matter, and relieve him and his hospitable wife from a part of the burden? Donations of clothing, bedding, provisions and money, are, at all times, acceptable, and will be faithfully applied, and acknowledged through the columns of this journal. Direct to Stephen Myers, Albany.

But I must bring these hasty notes to a close. I must not do so, however, without thanking my excellent friends, Myers, Mathers, Voglesang, Alcott, Dr. Elkins, and others, for the not-soon-to-be-forgotten evidences of their characteristic hospitality.

I looked in upon my friend Rich, of Troy, and found him in status quo. He is still firm in the faith in which and for which John Brown was strangled to death. Troy is a great city, and President Rich is one of the great men in it. It is a favorite resort of mine; for there I have a host of the most ardent friends. I had the privilege while in Troy of hearing Madame Fisher, one of the sweet singers in our Israel. Her voice is sweet, powerful, and of wonderful compass.—I hope she will receive that encouragement which her musical abilities demand.

But here comes the cars. All aboard for the West!

W. J. W.

UTICA, Dec. 9th, 1859.

P. S.—On my way to Utica, I received the hospitalities of my friend Enoch Moore, who, although a man of color, is a near relative of Gov. Wise. He stated to me that when Henry A. Wise was elected Governor of Virginia, he felt proud of his relationship; but in consequence of his treatment of the noble Capt. Brown, he intends to disown him forever.

W. J. W.