Onesimus and his Family Sent Back.
Onesimus Harris was aroused from his state of somnolence, at his sleeping apartment on South Clark street, in this city yesterday morning, and fell into the most apostolic hands of United States Marshal Jones of this city, who, perhaps, at that early hour found it impossible to read in the fine print of his pocket Testament the touching passages so soothing to nigger catchers in all time, wherein Paul to Philemon sent greeting and his doule, which theologians declare is the original Greek word for Sambo.
Onesimus on South Clark street, awoke just in time to hear a shrill triplet scream form three small Onesimi, that several stout fellows, in the dawn of the morning, were hurrying down stairs in their night-gowns. Mrs. Onesimus at this sudden and shocking invasion of a family sleeping chamber, didn't faint, not go off into hysterics, as many mothers at that very hour, soundly asleep with their children about them, within a few squares of the spot, and probably woudl ahve done.
No, she got up, but with a heart as heavy as the burden of a slave mother's life, and prepared to follow a rough looking specimen of mankind, born in a free State, who calling her "wench," gently reminded her it was "better not to make a d––d fool of herself," which, of course, was good and consoling advice under the circumstances. The United States Marshal Jones was, the while, frowning down the efforts of a grizzly headed colored person to get out of a bed room, against the door of which the majesty of the law in the shape of Mr. Jones had placed its back, with a revolver at the key hold, should the grizzly colored person prove obstreporous. The black Onesimi were hurried down stairs and into an omnibus, the eight stout men of the party doing this neither quietly or humanely. The omnibus whirled away to the St. Louis depot, where a special train chartered by Marshal Jones was in waiting. The ignorant and unlettered colored friends of the family thus hurried away, followed in hot haste to ask explanations, but captors had a policeman in readiness to swing the bridge at Van Buren street as the omnibus passed it, cutting off ugly questionings, and the train was immediately under way, southward bound, bearing Onesimus and his family, Deputy, Marshal Webb accompanying the party, and entering into the whole thing with gusto.
The lovers of Union and of the American Eagle breathed freer yesterday. It would have been an healthful black draught for the Eagle, had one nigger only been sent southward, but here were five. Who charges it upon Chattelism that it separates families? How this act of our United States officers rebukes such a charge.
The Harris family lived near St. Louis, and had been fugitives for nearly a month. Their error was in stopping in Chicago to see a maternal relative of the wife, under the stupid fallacy that a nigger has any right to have a mother, other than a mere matter of business. The warrants for their arrest were made out by U.S. Commissioner Corneau of Springfield, before whom they are to be taken for examination to-day.
Ridiculously enough the most intense excitement among the divers unthinking and unreflecting free people of color, whom if we were a Justice, we should sentence to receive a lecture from the guberantoral [sic] editor of the Times. Some of them got angry and refused to see the justice of the thing, though indeed it can scarcely be expected of such ignorant creatures.
There was a general stampede yesterday among the fugitive salves harbored and residing in this city, and within a day or two hundreds of them will have left for Canada, a course which we advise to all, who cannot make up their minds to save the country by going back to their masters.