Where were you a slave, Perry?
I was sold and brought up in old Kentucky, in Greenup County. I was sold from that county into Boone and from Boone into Kenton. My last master was Milt Graves. A few weeks before I ran away, a party of twenty-two slaves had made their escape. Among the number were William Casey [alias Lewis Gardner], who used to live in Battle Creek, George Hamilton, father of John Evans, Nelson Stephens and wife and daughter, the latter now Mrs. A.D. Cook of this city. They were all living in my neighborhood.
Was it their successful escape that incited you to run away?
No. Their escape alarmed the slave owners and they began to sell off their slaves to the Mississippi cotton planters. One day, the master's son, a talkative youngster, told me that his father had sold us into Mississippi. He was afraid that we were going to run away. I was struck with dismay. The horror of all horrors to the slave was the Mississippi cotton field. It was a living hell. I communicated the startling information I had received to the other slaves while working in the field that day and, during the absence of the overseer, we resolved on an escape. One of our numbers got a pass, went to Covington, and made arrangements with a white man to rake us over the river. We left on the night of Easter Monday. This was a holiday. On all holidays, the slaves could either have their own time to do as they pleased or work. If they worked, they got pay. I worked that day planting corn for a man who kept a score, and he paid me fifty cents. I had $2.00 that I had earned on previous holidays. This $2.50 I had when I arrived in Cass County, Michigan. About 10 o'clock at night, twelve of us started for Covington, twelve miles distant. Among the number were Dave Walker and his mother, Susan Reynolds, who used to live in Battle Creek. We all reached Covington except one.
What became of that one?
He got drunk. His name was Henry Buckner. In some manner, he got some whiskey and drank so much of it that he could not walk, and he 'fell by the wayside.' We had to leave him behind. [The slave owners] found him asleep the next morning, and he told them such a plausible story that he got off rather easy. He said that he had been overpersuaded to run away, and when he began to think about it he made up his mind not to leave his master, and so stayed behind. They gave him a whipping for three mornings in succession and lee him go. But they tied a bell around his neck and he wore that for a long time, so they would know of his whereabouts. He stayed there for about a year and a half and then made his escape. It is needless co say that he didn't drink any whiskey that time. I have since met him in Canada, when over there for a visit.
How did you get across the Ohio River?
As I said, we left about 10 o'clock at night and did not arrive in Covington until 4 o'clock in the morning, although a distance of only twelve miles. The reason was that we had to travel across the fields in order to avoid meeting teams and travelers and to pass the tollgates... It was so late when we arrived in Covington that the man who was to meet us there had got tired of waiting and gone home. This was a great disappointment to us, but we started down the bank of the Ohio River and almost providentially found a boat, or as they are called there, a skiff. Into that boat eleven of us crowded. The sides came to within an inch of the water. How we ever got across I don't know. But it was life or death, so we made the attempt and reached Cincinnati in safety.
As we landed, we saw a colored and a white man standing together. They exclaimed: 'There comes some runaway slaves.' We denied it, but to no use. They proved to be friends, and took us through the back alleys to a station of the underground railway. We were distributed around and secreted in the cellars of business blocks, about two in a place. We were secreted in this manner for a week.
How did you get out of Cincinnati?
By the underground railway. When the proper time came, we were ordered to ready one njght, when carriages were brought up and we were driven through to Hamilton, Ohio, then to Jonesborough, Indiana, and so forth from one station co the other....
You said that your first permanent stopping place was in Cass County?
Yes, we stopped with the Quakers on Young's Prairie, about three miles from Cassopolis, and near Diamond Lake I stopped with John [Shugart's] brother, Zach [Shugart], and-then went to work for old Stephen Bogue. It was hereafter some forty slave dealers swooped down on the fugitives early and captured them.
Did they capture you?
No. I got away. Did you ever hear about that affair?
No, I never did.
That was one of the most exciting anti-slavery events that ever happened in Michigan. They came down in a body and captured nearly all the slaves .in that section [of the township]. You see, the slave owners knew this Quaker settlement and they knew it was headquarters for escaped slaves....
How did you make your escape?'
I and Rube Stephens were living with Joe Sandford and family, which consisted of his wife and little daughter. It was in one of Stephen Bogue's log cabins. Rube and I slept up in a garret. About 4 o'clock, there came a knock at the door. Sandford enquired: 'Who's there?' 'A friend,' came the reply. We all recognu:ed it as the voice of Jack Graves, the master of Sandford and the brother of my master. He said: 'Open the door, Joe.' But Joe did not open the door. He commenced to yell murder in order to arouse Stephen Bogue. The slave masters then smashed in the window and thrust a double barrel shot gun in. We all kept heavy hickory clubs in the cabin and Sandford grabbed his club and struck at them through the window. They thought it was a gun and ran, leaving their shot gun. We were so frightened that we never grabbed that gun, but left it there for them to recover, as they soon returned. Sandford attempted to run but was captured, as was also his wife and daughter. Rube Stephens ran out and succeeded in escaping. Our cabin roof was what is known as a shake roof I pushed aside the shakes, crawled out, and then jumped to the ground. If you ever saw lively running, I µid it then. I reached a corn field and got away from them. I alarmed Stephen Bogue and he mounted his horse and ran him to Cassopolis to alarm the people there. Mrs. Bogue secreted me upstairs in their house. Do you remember William Casey, who used to live in Battle Creek?
Yes, I knew him well.
He had a terrible fight with them. You know that he was a powerful man. Three of them came into his cabin, when he grabbed a three-legged stool and gave them a battle. He struck his young master a terrible blow, from which he afterward died on reaching his home in Kentucky. They pounded Casey dreadfully with clubs and overcame him, and handcuffed him, also captured his daughter, Mary. Mrs. Casey escaped to the corn field, where one of her young masters attacked her, but she was too much for him and gave him a dreadful licking, and escaped. After they had secured what slaves they could, they started out on the return. My chum, Rube Stephens, when he escaped, started for Bill Jones' house, a Quaker, who was known as 'Nigger Bill,' on account of his great friendship for the colored people. Jones mounted his horse and headed off the whole party. The slave owners had revolvers and Bowie knives and threatened to oot him. He had no arms himscl£ But told them he could shoot as fast as they could, and parleyed with them until a party of forty men came up from Cassopolis under command of that good old Quaker, Stephen Bogue, who had got out the papers for their arrest for destroying his property and breaking into his houses.
"Out of Bondage," Battle Creek (MI) Sunday Morning Call, August 3, 1884