American History Tellers - The Underground Railroad | Journey’s End | 4

Episode Date: February 28, 2024

In December 1850, Harriet Tubman saved three family members from an auction block in a daring rescue in Cambridge, Maryland. It was the start of one of the most legendary careers in the annals of the Underground Railroad.Underground activists like Tubman faced enormous danger under the newly passed Fugitive Slave Act. But they refused to accept a law they deemed unjust. In the 1850s, they brazenly defied slave hunters and federal officials, sparking a series of violent clashes.Listen to American History Tellers on the Wondery App or wherever you get your podcasts. Experience all episodes ad-free and be the first to binge the newest season. Unlock exclusive early access by joining Wondery+ in the Wondery App, Apple Podcasts or Spotify. Start your free trial today by visiting https://wondery.com/links/american-history-tellers/ now. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Wondery Plus subscribers can binge new seasons of American History Tellers early and ad-free right now. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Imagine it's 8 o'clock at night on October 1st, 1851 in Syracuse, New York. You and your fellow federal marshals are guarding a fugitive slave named Jerry in the local police station. But a large mob of people intent on rescuing him have just stormed the building, and now you're hiding with the other marshals and Jerry in a darkened back room behind the police commissioner's office. You hear that? They've breached the outside office. You tighten your grip on the handle of your pistol and look at your colleague, Marshall Swift.

His face has turned ashen. This is madness. I say we release Jerry to the crowd. You can't be serious. Do I need to remind you that it's our job to keep this fugitive in custody? We can't do our job if we're dead. The flimsy wall dividing the back room from the main office starts to tremble. Is that a battering ram? You walk toward the door, glancing at Jerry, who's sitting on the floor. He stares defiantly back at you, but says nothing.

Next to him crouches Marshall Swift. Looks like he's going to be sick. You hold your pistol in your right arm as you unlock the door with your left. You slowly open the door to find a sea of angry faces staring back at you. You point your pistol at a black man amongst them. But before you can say anything, the man swings an iron rod at your wrist, knocking the gun out of your hand. Searing pain radiates through your arm as you slam the door shut and stagger back into the room, clutching your wrist, you realize you're no match for the mob. You're right. There's no way we're getting out of here alive if we stay put.

I'm gonna make a run for it. You rush toward the window and fling it open. It's dark outside, but as you peer down at the street below, you estimate a 12 or 13 foot drop. Glancing back, you catch one more glimpse of Jerry, who's now standing. He's got a spark of triumph in his eyes, but you have no time to waste. You turn back to the window, take a deep breath, and steel yourself to jump. kill list is a true story of how i ended up in a race against time to warn those who lives were in danger follow kill list wherever you get your podcasts you can listen to kill list and more

exhibit c true crumb shows like morbid early and ad free right now by joining wandery plus i'm sachi cole and i'm sar Hagee. And we're the hosts of Scamfluencers, a weekly podcast from Wondery that takes you along the twists and turns of the most infamous scams of all time, the impact on victims, and what's left once the facade falls away. Follow Scamfluencers on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. From Wondery, I'm Lindsey Graham, and this is American History Tellers. Our history, your story. In October 1851, abolitionists stormed a police station in Syracuse, New York, to rescue a fugitive slave named Jerry from the clutches of federal marshals. U.S. Marshal Henry Fitch leapt out of a window in panic, breaking his arm.

Soon after, the mob spirited Jerry to freedom in Canada. Jerry's rescue was just one of several examples of open resistance to the 1850 Fugitive Slave Act. Abolitionists were outraged by the new law, which required all citizens to aid in the capture and return of fugitive slaves. So in 1851, abolitionists and Underground Railroad agents confronted slave hunters and federal officials in a series of violent clashes. Their willingness to brazenly defy federal law marked a radical new chapter for the Underground Railroad. For abolitionists, resisting the Fugitive Slave Act was a moral imperative. But for Southern slave owners, this disobedience to federal law was an unacceptable threat to their property and constitutional rights. In the 1850s, refusal to comply with the Act became a source of bitter grievance for the South,

inflaming sectional tensions past the point of no return. This is Episode 4, Journey's End. In 1822, Harriet Tubman was born enslaved in Maryland's eastern shore. She was born Araminta Ross, or Minty, and she was the fifth of nine children. From the age of six, her owner hired her out to a series of cruel men who abused her, and she bore the scars of her beatings for the rest of her life. So from this young age, she was forced to learn to fend for herself. She would later remember, slavery is the next thing to hell. I grew up like a neglected weed, ignorant of liberty, having no experience of it. And after three of her sisters were sold to slave traders from the deep south, she lived in fear of meeting the same fate, declaring,

Every time I saw a white man, I was afraid of being carried away. But that wasn't the only fear. When Minty was a young teen, she was nearly killed when an overseer struck her with an iron weight. The blow fractured her skull and inflicted permanent neurological damage, causing her to suffer headaches, seizure, blackouts, and dreamlike trances for the rest of her life. She was only five feet tall, and years of hard labor in the sun made her look twice her age. In 1844, when she was 22 years old, she married a free black man named John Tubman, and she took his name, dropping her childhood nickname as well, and thereafter becoming known as Harriet Tubman. When Tubman's owner died in the spring of 1849, he left behind

a pile of debt that put her and her two brothers at risk of being sold. Tubman refused to end up on the auction block, so she and her brothers decided to flee. They had little knowledge of the North besides the fact that Pennsylvania was a free state. So despite having no idea how to get there, they set out in September and attempted to follow the North Star. But before long, they got lost in the dense forests and swamps of the eastern shore of Maryland and argued about directions. The brothers ultimately decided to give up and return to their plantation, and Tubman reluctantly followed. But later that fall, Tubman decided to give up and return to their plantation, and Tubman reluctantly followed. But later that fall, Tubman decided to try again. This time, she traveled alone, trekking 100 miles through eastern Maryland, Delaware, and into Pennsylvania with the help of underground operators.

When she finally arrived in Philadelphia, she felt an overwhelming sense of spiritual rebirth. She later recalled, I looked at my hands to see if I was the same person. There was such a glory over everything. The sun came like gold through the trees and over the fields, and I felt like I was in heaven. I had crossed the line. In Philadelphia, she was finally free, but she soon found herself consumed by loneliness. She later remembered, there was no one to welcome me to the land of freedom. I was a stranger in a strange land. Then, in December 1850, the 28-year-old Tubman was still living in Philadelphia when she learned that her niece, Kasaya Boley, and Kasaya's two children were going to be put up for sale.

Determined to rescue her family from the auction block, Tubman made the risky decision to travel to Baltimore, Maryland, where she worked out a plan with Kasaya's husband, a free man named John Boley. When Kasaya and her children were put up for sale in front of the county courthouse in Cambridge, Maryland, John Boley made the winning bid. Unlike in some slave states, there was no law in Maryland preventing a man from purchasing his family's freedom. But Bowley had no intention of paying, and when the auctioneer returned from dinner to complete the sale, Bowley, Kasaya, and their children were gone. Bowley and the three children hid out in a safe house, then paddled in a long canoe 75 miles up the cold waters of the Chesapeake Bay to Baltimore.

There they reunited with Tubman, who guided them north to Philadelphia. She had saved her family and completed her rescue mission, the first of many more to come. Because while Tubman was spiriting the bullies to freedom, all across the North, fugitive slaves faced a heightened risk of recapture under the New Fugitive Slave Act of 1850. Authorities were emboldened by the new, tougher law, and by February 1851, there had been at least 60 attempted arrests in the North, involving more than 100 fugitives.

There was also a sharp increase in kidnappings of free Black people. In a desperate attempt to evade capture, thousands of fugitives living in the Free States gave up everything and fled further north to Canada. Black churches saw huge portions of their congregation simply disappear. In Pittsburgh, it was said, nearly every hotel waiter fled the city. But the stringent enforcement of the new Fugitive Slave Act did not deter Underground Railroad operatives. They stayed put and refused to accept the new status quo, resolving to do whatever they could to defy the new law. In February 1851, one fugitive named Shadrach Minkins

was working at a coffeehouse in Boston after escaping slavery in Norfolk, Virginia by sea a few months earlier. But a professional slave hunter from Norfolk had arrived in Boston with legal papers from his owner. The slave hunter obtained an arrest warrant for Minkins, and federal officers put a plan into action. On the morning of February 15th, two deputy U.S. Marshals posing as customers seized Minkins in the coffeehouse where he worked. They took him to a nearby courthouse to await a hearing. In the meantime, news of the arrest rippled through the local

abolitionist community, and Boston's Vigilance Committee quickly mobilized. That afternoon, 20 of the committee's black activists descended on the courthouse and overwhelmed the armed guards. They freed Minkins and carried him out into the streets as a large crowd of black locals cheered on. One of the rescuers even took the city's official sword of justice from the courthouse walls and brandished it for the onlookers. With the further help of the Underground Railroad, Minkins was spirited to safety in Montreal. But after this, federal officials were horrified. President Millard Fillmore, who supported the Fugitive Slave Act, called the Minkins' rescue a scandalous outrage. Senator Henry Clay demanded to know whether a government of white men

was to be yielded to a government by blacks. Ten abolitionists were arrested in the aftermath, but juries refused to convict any of them for their part in the Minkins' rescue, which also served to kick off a wave of resistance to the Fugitive Slave Act elsewhere. Later that same year, a deadly clash erupted in the town of Christiana, Pennsylvania, 20 miles north of the Maryland border. Christiana was home to 50 permanent underground railroad stations. Its proximity to the slave state of Maryland made it a refuge for runaway slaves and a major target for Southern slave catchers. In the year since the Fugitive Slave Act was passed,

gangs had begun to ride through Christiana at night, breaking into homes and seizing entire families of fugitives and free black residents. In response, one 29-year-old fugitive named William Parker organized a local vigilance committee to protect these black residents from capture. Parker had become an active abolitionist after hearing Frederick Douglass speak at a rally eight years prior. He had known Douglass when both men were enslaved at Maryland, and he was awed by the change he saw in the man. Inspired by Douglass's stirring rhetoric, Parker resolved to join the cause and defend his community, and he was prepared to use force to achieve his ends. When a Quaker neighbor urged Parker to flee to Canada rather than remain in Pennsylvania,

Parker refused, replying, If a fight occurs, I want the whites to keep away. They have a country and may obey the laws, but we have no country. And in September 1851, William Parker was hiding slaves on a farm he shared with his wife and children. The Maryland slave owner, Edward Gorsuch, found out and went to a federal judge and swore out warrants on the fugitives. Then he traveled to Christiana with an armed posse that included his son, nephew, and cousin, and a deputy U.S. marshal named Henry Klein. But Gorsuch did not realize that local abolitionists kept tabs on slave-catching parties from the South. So while Gorsuch was en route to Christiana, an underground spy managed to gain his confidence and learn about his plans.

So when Gorsuch's posse marched up to the Parker's two-story stone farmhouse, Parker was ready. Imagine it's just before dawn on September 11, 18 1851 in Christiana, Pennsylvania. You, your wife Eliza, and several other armed men are hauled up in your upstairs bedroom with two fugitive slaves. Last night, you received intelligence that a slave owner and a federal marshal are on their way to your house. You're anxiously awaiting their arrival, and you can tell the other men are anxious too. You put a reassuring hand on the shoulder of one of them. We're going to keep you safe. Remember, we've got half the county on our side. You jump at the sound of the front door opening. With a nod to Eliza, you run out of the bedroom and rush to the landing. Down below, two white men look up at you from the bottom of the narrow

stairway. One of them steps forward, and in the dim light, you recognize him as a local lawman, one who's notorious for helping slave catchers. My name is Henry Klein. I'm a deputy United States marshal. This here is Edward Gorsuch. If you take one more step up those stairs, I'll break your neck. We're here to take the fugitives Joshua Hammond and Nelson Ford into custody. They're not here. I have the necessary warrants. I'm an officer of the United States government and I am here under its authority. Your papers mean nothing to me. I don't care for you or your government. What you think matters nothing to me. I've heard many a negro talk a big talk and I've arrested every single one of them, and I'll arrest you too.

You can try. We're commanded to take you dead or alive, so you may as well give up now. Klein takes a step up the stairs, testing your resolve. See here, old man. You can come up, but you can't go down again. Once you're up here, you're mine. For a brief moment, fear shadows his face, but quickly he masks it with bravado. I'm sick of waiting. I will set this house on fire and burn up everyone inside. Go right ahead. You can burn us, but you can't take us. You'll see my ashes scattered to the earth before I give up. Klein is about to take another step when the sound of a loud horn stops him. He and Gorsuch exchange nervous glances. What the hell was that? You shrug,

smiling, knowing the backup is on its way, and that means soon these kidnappers will be outnumbered. While William Parker was confronting Marshall Klein and Edward Gorsuch, Eliza Parker stood at the upstairs window and blew a horn. It was the prearranged signal to summon members of Parker's vigilance committee. Hearing the horn and figuring it was a signal, Gorsuch's posse began firing at Eliza. She dodged their bullets and continued blowing the horn. The sound could be heard for miles. Then, as dawn approached, roughly three dozen black men and women descended on the house armed with shotguns, clubs, and razor-sharp corn cutters.

Several white Quaker members also arrived at the scene in hopes of preventing violence. Seeing these white bystanders, Klein tried to deputize them under the Fugitive Slave Act to help him seize the runaways, but they refused. Once the posse was clearly outnumbered, Parker leaned out of a window and demanded that Klein and Gorsuch withdraw. Gorsuch refused, insisting on his legal right to the fugitives. So the standoff continued for about an hour as Gorsuch's anger mounted. At roughly 7 a.m., he declared, I've come a long way this morning and I want my breakfast. I'll have my property or I'll breakfast in hell. As tensions escalated even further, shots rang out. Witnesses later disagreed on who fired first, but when the shooting stopped, Gorsuch lay dead and his son was severely wounded.

Two black people were also injured. Klein and the rest of his party made a hasty retreat. That night, fearing repercussions for the death of a white man, Parker and the fugitives went into hiding, then set out for Canada. Parker made his way up to Rochester, New York, where he met with his old friend Frederick Douglass. Douglass helped him catch a ferry bound for Toronto, where his wife and children would later join him. And as they parted, Parker handed Douglas a pistol he had seized from Edward Gorsuch. For the rest of his life, Douglas kept the gun as a memento of the Christiana resistance. For abolitionists, it was a momentous event that signaled the growing radicalization of the

underground. Douglas himself was becoming more willing to accept violent tactics in the struggle against slavery, and in a speech the following year he would proclaim, the only way to make the fugitive slave law a dead letter is to make half a dozen or more dead kidnappers. Although Parker and the fugitives were able to escape, five white men and 36 black people were charged with committing treason in their defiance of the Fugitive Slave Act in Christiana. The only person who actually faced trial was one of the white bystanders, and in the end, it took the jury 15 minutes to acquit him. This speedy verdict was a testament to the strength of Northern opposition to the Fugitive Slave Act. And less than a month after the clash in Christiana, in October 1851, another brazen act

of defiance took place in Syracuse, New York, when William Henry, known as Jerry, a runaway from Missouri, was arrested by federal marshals. That same day, Syracuse happened to be hosting a convention for the Abolitionist Liberty Party, and as news of Jerry's arrest spread, a large, interracial crowd of abolitionists, many of them delegates to the convention, converged on the commissioner's office where Jerry was held, demanding his release. In the midst of the chaos, Jerry slipped his guard, but only made it a block before he was recaptured and taken back. Continuing to protest Jerry's arrest, though, the crowd threw stones and bricks at the office,

breaking windows. Next, they used a battering stones and bricks at the office, breaking windows. Next, they used a battering ram to break down the door and rush inside. Terrified of what the crowd might do, a federal marshal jumped out of a window. And in the end, the remaining panicked authorities gave up and released Jerry to the crowd. He was hurried onto a coach bound for Canada. And once again, one of the black leaders of the protest kept a memento of the event, the chains that had shackled Jerry. He placed them in a mahogany box and defiantly mailed them to President Fillmore. Ultimately, 26 people were indicted for assisting

in Jerry's escape, but mostly sympathetic juries refused to convict any of them but one. These types of acquittals and fugitive slave rescues convinced many southern planters and politicians that the federal government was deliberately failing to enforce their own Fugitive Slave Act. In truth, federal officials were vigorously enforcing the law, and they had sent dozens of fugitives back south in the year since it went into effect. But the events of 1851 revealed that white Northerners were not willing to allow pro-slavery forces to impose their laws and institutions on the rest of the country. They saw the Fugitive Slave Act as a threat to their own personal liberties,

and public opinion was shifting in favor of the anti-slavery cause, meaning soon state legislatures would join individual Northerners in subverting the law of the land. In a quiet suburb, a community is shattered by the death of a beloved wife and mother. But this tragic loss of life quickly turns into something even darker. Her husband had tried to hire a hitman on the dark web to kill her. And she wasn't the only target. Because buried in the depths of the internet is The Kill List, a cache of chilling documents containing names, photos, addresses, and specific instructions for people's murders. This podcast is the true story of how I ended up in a race against time to warn those whose lives were in danger. And it turns out, convincing a total stranger

someone wants them dead is not easy. Follow Kill List on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to Kill List and more Exhibit C True Crime shows like Morbid early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery+. Check out Exhibit C in the Wond Morbid early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery+. Check out Exhibit C in the Wondery app for all your true crime listening.

Dracula, the ancient vampire who terrorizes Victorian London. Blood and garlic, bats and crucifixes. Even if you haven't read the book, you think you know the story. One of the incredible things about Dracula is that not only is it this wonderful snapshot of the 19th century, but it also has so much resonance today. The vampire doesn't cast a reflection in a mirror. So when we look in the mirror, the only thing we see is our own monstrous abilities. From the host and producer of American History Tellers and History Daily

comes the new podcast, The Real History of Dracula. We'll reveal how author Bram Stoker raided ancient folklore, exploited Victorian fears around sex, science, and religion, and how even today we remain enthralled to his strange creatures of the night. You can binge all episodes of The Real History of Dracula exclusively with Wondery Plus. Join Wondery Plus and The Wondery App, Apple Podcasts, or Spotify. In the spring of 1851, Harriet Tubman made her second expedition south, rescuing her brother and two of his friends from slavery on the eastern shore of Maryland. And after this, with two successful rescues under her belt, her confidence

grew. That fall, she returned to Maryland once again, and this time she took even more of a risk by venturing to Dorchester County, where she had lived while enslaved and where she was well known. Her mission was to bring her husband John Tubman back to Philadelphia with her. John was a free man and could have left on his own, but had chosen not to. Two years had passed since she had last seen him. She saved her money and bought him a new suit, but when she sent word asking him to meet, she was disappointed as he refused to come. In her absence, he had married another woman and had no intention of leaving his new wife. Tubman was devastated and later recalled her determination to go right in

and make all the trouble she could, before realizing if he could do without her, then she could do without him. So Tubman changed course, and rather than consider her trip south wasted, she gathered a group of enslaved people, gave one of the men the suit she had purchased for John, and then led them north. Imagine it's a cold night in December 1851, and you're wading through a marsh on the eastern shore of Maryland with ten other runaway slaves and your guide, a small woman named Harriet. Your tattered clothes offer meager warmth from the frigid air, and you're up to your knees in cold, murky water.

The day's relentless march has left your muscles aching, and you feel you have to say something. Harriet, we've been at this all day. I can't go on any longer. Can't we stop and rest? Harriet glances over her shoulder, her eyes narrow. I don't permit whining. Keep moving. You clench your jaw, willing yourself to stay silent and obey her.

But hunger is gnawing at your stomach, and it feels like the cold and damp has seeped into your bones. I'm serious. We haven't had anything to eat since yesterday morning, and I can barely keep my eyes open. The group slows, casting furtive glances your way. Harriet stops and turns around, her small form stiffening with resolve. You knew the risk when you signed on. Do you think this would be easy? Do you think you're the only one who's tired and hungry? Of course not. I just... I can't go any longer. I'm turning around. I'll take my chances back on the plantation. She walks toward you, reaching into the folds of her coat to draw out a pistol. She aims the weapon at your head, and you instinctively throw your arms up. Don't you dare. Keep moving or die.

Your breath catches in your throat. I won't betray the group. I won't tell the master anything. I swear I won't. A live runaway can do great harm by going back, but a dead one can tell secrets. Do you understand me? She's nearly a foot shorter than you, but her steely gaze sends a chill down your spine. You nod. I understand. Good. Now get moving. We've got miles to cover before dawn. Harriet forges on, easily weaving her way through the maze of reeds. You lumber behind her, each step a struggle against exhaustion. The path ahead feels like an endless expanse of misery. But with this woman leading the way, you're starting to believe you might actually reach freedom. In December 1851, Harriet Tubman guided a group of 11 fugitives out of Maryland. Rather than taking them to Pennsylvania,

she led them all the way to Canada. She knew that with the Fugitive Slave Act in effect, it was no longer safe for any former slave to remain in the Northern States. She later noted, I wouldn't trust Uncle Sam with my people no longer, so I brought him clear off to Canada. And she soon took residence herself in St. Catharines, Ontario,

a hub for black refugees in Canada. With St. Catharines, Ontario, a hub for black refugees in Canada. With St. Catharines as her new home base, Tubman would eventually make a total of 13 expeditions south, leading at least 70 people out of slavery from Maryland. She had various strategies for traveling undetected. She preferred to travel in winter to take advantage of the longer nights, and she liked to begin her trips on Saturdays, knowing that it would give her passengers a head start.

And slave people often had Sundays off, and newspapers did not publish reports of runaway slaves until Monday mornings. Years of laboring in lumber camps helped her navigate woods with ease, but Tubman took every precaution. She administered sleeping powder to quiet, restless infants, and she refused to accept weakness from her passengers, going so far as to carry a revolver to threaten any fugitives who tried to turn back, risking the safety of the rest of the party. And it was more than these skills that made Tubman unique. Very few members

of the Underground Railroad ventured south to actively recruit fugitives and guide them north, and most that did were men. Tubman found that southerners were less suspicious of her because she was a woman, and because of her diminutive stature, she was barely five feet tall. She often disguised herself to appear elderly, and although she could not read, she carried a book when she traveled south, so people would assume she was free. A friend later wrote of her, She seems to have command over her face and can banish all expression from her features

and look so stupid that nobody would suspect her of knowing enough to be dangerous. And although she conducted her first rescue missions alone, before long Tubman became embedded within the underground, working closely with seasoned operatives who provided her with money and connections. She would eventually become the most legendary conductor of the entire Underground Railroad, earning the nickname Moses for her success leading so many fugitives to freedom. Soon after Harriet Tubman launched her Underground Railroad career, a groundbreaking new novel pushed the anti-slavery cause into everyday conversation. Harriet Beecher Stowe was born in Connecticut to the influential Beecher family, known for their contributions to various social causes including women's rights, education, and anti-slavery. After the passage of the Fugitive Slave Act, Stowe declared her intention to write something that will make this nation feel what an accursed thing slavery is.

In March 1852, she published Uncle Tom's Cabin. The novel centered on a kind and devout enslaved man named Tom who struggles under a series of cruel owners. Tom was partly based on the fugitive slave Josiah Henson, who fled Kentucky for Canada in 1830. In one of the more memorable passages of the book, the character Eliza barely manages to escape slave catchers by crossing the semi-frozen Ohio River on drifting ice while clutching a baby in her arms. This story was inspired by the real experience of a woman aided by Reverend John Rankin, a white stationmaster who made Ripley, Ohio, an underground stronghold. Upon its publication, Uncle Tom's Cabin was an instant sensation. In just one year, it sold 300,000 copies, becoming the best-selling novel of the 19th century.

Only the Bible sold more. The novel confronted readers with the harsh realities of slavery. Though it has been criticized for perpetuating racial stereotypes, its vivid characters and raw emotion reached ordinary Americans in a way that abolitionist lectures and newspapers could never. Though active abolitionists remained a small minority and few white Northerners saw black people as their equals, Uncle Tom's Cabin had a powerful impact in turning public opinion against slavery and the South. And as the decade of the 1850s wore

on, white Northerners only became increasingly frustrated with the burdens they were expected to bear in order to protect slavery. In May 1854, federal marshals in Boston arrested a 20-year-old fugitive slave named Anthony Burns. The arrest set off furious protests, and a group of black abolitionists attempted a rescue that left a guard dead. Even though this effort failed, President Franklin Pierce ordered federal troops to Boston determined to enforce the Fugitive Slave Act. They were met by 50,000 angry onlookers lining the streets as the soldiers marched Burns to the ship that would carry him back to Virginia. Protesters hung American flags upside down and shopkeepers draped their windows in black. It was the last time that the Fugitive

Slave Act would ever be enforced in Massachusetts. Because in the wake of the Burns case, the state passed a new personal liberty law in defiance of the Fugitive Slave Act. The law prohibited Massachusetts officials from helping slave catchers and barred lawyers from representing slave catchers in court. Other state legislatures would soon follow suit,

passing laws forbidding the use of state jails to hold fugitives, increasing the penalties for kidnapping free black people, and making available state-provided lawyers for the accused. These new laws made it more difficult, more expensive, and more time-consuming for slave owners to recover fugitives, leading many to give up trying. But the Fugitive Slave Act was not the only act of Congress testing the limits of Northern tolerance of slavery. Under pressure from Southerners and

their Democratic allies in the North, Congress narrowly passed the Kansas-Nebraska Act in May 1854. It was a watershed in the escalating national drama over slavery. Since 1820, 34 years prior, the Missouri Compromise had banned slavery in territories above the 36-30 parallel. But the Kansas-Nebraska Act shattered this truce by giving the settlers of Kansas and Nebraska the right to decide whether their territories would be slave or free under the slogan of popular sovereignty. The mostly northern Nebraska was unlikely to become a slave state, but the fate of Kansas remained uncertain. Many Northerners feared that if Kansas did become a slave state, other western territories would follow, and in the summer of 1854, pro- and anti-slavery settlers poured into Kansas, hoping to sway the vote. Soon, guerrilla warfare

erupted between the two sides. Over the next two years, raids, massacres, and pitched battles would leave more than 200 people dead. The violence became known as Bleeding Kansas. But while abolitionists were taking up arms in Kansas, the Underground Railroad was operating with more speed and efficiency than ever. Traffic had reached its peak in the mid-1850s. And with the expansion of railways, many fugitives rode to the free states on actual trains, dramatically increasing their speed of travel. Perilous journeys that had once taken weeks could now be accomplished in only two days. In some instances, anti-slavery railroad executives

even facilitated their passage. Additionally, the Underground was functioning with a level of openness that would have been inconceivable just a few years earlier. Newspapers published appeals for donations to aid in Underground work. Frederick Douglass published reports in his newspaper, in articles signed by conductors themselves. Some conductors even advertised their services. Their willingness to operate in public was made possible by the larger shift in public sentiment regarding slavery in the South. But some abolitionists were desperate to do even more. As the decade of the 1850s drew to a close,

one radical abolitionist who had left a trail of blood in Kansas was devising a secret plan to extend the Underground Railroad into the Deep South in a daring bid to free the millions who still remained in bondage there. Richard Bandler revolutionized the world of self-help all thanks to an approach he developed called neurolinguistic programming. Even though NLP worked for some, its methods have been

criticized for being dangerous in the wrong hands. Throw in Richard's dark past as a cocaine addict and murder suspect, and you can't help but wonder what his true intentions were. I'm Sachi Cole. And I'm Sarah Hagee. And we're the hosts of Scamfluencers, a weekly podcast from Wondery that takes you along the twists and turns of the most infamous scams of all time, the impact on victims, and what's left once the facade falls away. We recently dove into the story of the godfather of modern mental manipulation,

Richard Bandler, whose methods inspired some of the most toxic and criminal self-help movements of the last two decades. Follow Scamfluencers on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to Scamfluencers and more Exhibit C true crime shows like Morbid and Kill List early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus. Check out Exhibit C in the Wondery app for all your true crime listening. This is the emergency broadcast system. A ballistic missile threat has been detected inbound to your area. Your phone buzzes and you look down to find this alert. What do you do next? Maybe you're at the grocery store, or maybe you're with your secret lover, or maybe you're robbing a bank. Based on the real-life false alarm that terrified

Hawaii in 2018, Incoming, a brand new fiction podcast exclusively on Wondery Plus, follows the journey of a variety of characters as they confront the unimaginable. The missiles are coming. What am I supposed to do? Featuring incredible performances from Tracy Letts, Mary Lou Henner, Mary Elizabeth Ellis, Paul Edelstein, and many, many more, Incoming is a hilariously thrilling podcast that will leave you wondering, how would you spend your last few minutes on Earth? You can binge Incoming exclusively and ad-free on Wondery+. Join Wondery+, and the Wondery app, Apple Podcasts, or Spotify.

On the night of May 24, 1856, a middle-aged man with piercing gray eyes and an iron will led a deadly massacre on a small Kansas settlement. He and his followers dragged five pro-slavery men from their cabins and split their heads open with broadswords. John Brown was a fanatical white abolitionist who believed that God had put him on earth to destroy slavery. In his mind, every act of violence against slavery was divine retribution for America's greatest sin. Brown had dedicated his life to his mission. In the late 1840s, he befriended Frederick Douglass and served as an underground railroad conductor in Springfield, Massachusetts. In 1855, he packed a wagon full of guns and set off for the guerrilla war in Kansas,

and his exploits the following summer brought him national notoriety. For years, Brown dreamed of what he called a subterranean pathway, an expanded version of the Underground Railroad that would reach into the heart of the Deep South. He envisioned a chain of forts in the Appalachian Mountains, stretching from Virginia all the way to Georgia. These secret bases would be manned by armed abolitionists who would attack slave owners and support fugitive slaves as they traveled north. Then, in 1857, Brown began formulating a more concrete plan. He wanted to capture the federal arsenal at Harpers Ferry, Virginia, where he would seize weapons, arm local enslaved people, and incite them to rebel against their enslavers. He planned to then continue marching south,

down the Appalachian Mountains, rallying more slaves to his army until the entire system of slavery crumbled. Over the next two years, Brown raised funds for his plan and recruited followers. Half a dozen leading white abolitionists in New York and Massachusetts agreed to finance his scheme, but Frederick Douglass refused to take part, warning Brown that he was walking into the perfect steel trap. Harriet Tubman agreed to join him, but when the time came, illness prevented her from participating. Nonetheless, Brown was determined to see his plan to fruition, and on the night of October 16, 1859, he and 21 followers seized the federal arsenal at Harper's Ferry, but no slaves rose

up to fight on his side, and just 36 hours later, Brown and his men were captured by U.S. Marines. They were quickly sentenced to death and hanged, having failed to liberate a single person. Although it was a failure, Brown's raid polarized the nation and fed Southern fears of an ongoing Northern conspiracy against slavery. As a result, new militias patrolled Southern towns and armed vigilantes roamed the countryside attacking suspected abolitionists. But in a speech to the Virginia state legislature, Governor Henry Wise insisted that the Underground Railroad posed a more serious threat to the South than John Brown did. He declared,

It is no solace to me that our border slaves are so liberated already by this still, silent, stealing system that they have no need to take up arms for their own liberation. The Northern states have made abolition a cancer eating into our very vitals. And further convincing many in the South that the rest of the nation was against them, the institution of slavery, and their way of life, in November 1860, Abraham Lincoln was elected on a platform of preserving the Union and keeping slavery out of Western territories. Pro-slavery Southerners were certain that Lincoln was intent on destroying slavery, the foundation of their wealth and power.

It was only a month later, in December 1860, that South Carolina seceded from the Union. In defending their secession, state leaders cited the refusal of northern states to enforce the Fugitive Slave Act. Soon, six more states followed, and in February 1861, the Confederate States of America was born. Two months later in March, when President Lincoln took the oath of office, he promised he had no intention of interfering with slavery or the Fugitive Slave Act. But a month later, Confederate forces attacked the U.S. military garrison at Fort Sumter, South Carolina, and America descended into civil war. And though the conflict began as a struggle to save the Union, the courage and initiative of enslaved people eventually forced Union policy

to finally confront slavery head-on. Imagine it's the night of May 23, 1861. You're walking through a Confederate Army camp at Sewell's Point on the James River in Virginia. After a long day building an artillery battery, your body is craving sleep, but you have other plans in mind. You crouch down and pull back the cloth flap of the tent you share with two fellow slaves, James and Frank. As you enter, James and Frank sit up to make room for you, and you crouch down beside them. The unsettling news you sit up to make room for you. You crouch down beside them. The unsettling news you're about to share weighs on you. I just overheard Colonel Mallory talking with one of the other officers.

He's planning to send us all down to North Carolina to build fortifications. James jerks backward in shock. North Carolina? But he can. Everyone we know is here in Virginia. He can, and he will. But I have an idea. I want to escape. Tonight. And how exactly do you plan to do that? A grin spreads across your face. All we have to do is steal a boat and row to the Union Army camp across the river.

There's a flicker of hope in Frank's expression, but James shakes his head. You're crazy, you know that? Maybe, but I'm also lucky. All of us are. If it weren't for the war, we would have to go all the way to Pennsylvania or New Jersey to be free. But now, the north has come to Virginia. Don't you see? Freedom lies just across the river. And how do we know we'll survive the crossing? The Yankees might shoot us dead or capture us and return us to the Colonel. And then who knows what'll happen. Runaways get flogged, but I bet traitors get a lot worse.

It's a risk. But the only thing I know for sure is that if we stay here, we'll be sent deeper into the South. Further away from freedom. I don't want that. Do you? James sighs, the tension in his shoulders softening. Alright, let's do it. If we're taking chances, I want a chance at freedom. You clap a hand on his shoulder. Let's go. You pull back the tent flap to check if anyone's watching,

then beckon James and Frank to follow you out. But as the three of you creep through the darkness, your confidence starts to falter. Despite your bold words in the tent, you're struck with the feeling that you might be leading your friends to danger. In May 1861, three enslaved men slipped away from a Confederate camp in Virginia and rode across the James River. They sought freedom at a Union Army fort commanded by General Benjamin Butler. When a Confederate officer demanded their return, Butler refused. He insisted the men were contraband of war and that the Fugitive Slave Act did not apply in a

foreign country which Virginia claimed to be. The rebel officer wrote off in anger. Three days later, eight more runaways appeared at the Union Fort. Fifty-nine arrived the day after that. Something was happening under General Benjamin Butler's watch. But the Lincoln administration backed Butler up, launching a formal policy of accepting fugitives as contraband, no different from enemy weapons. Then on New Year's Day, 1863, Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation, freeing slaves in all areas still in rebellion. It was an open invitation for enslaved people to flee to Union Army lines. Escapes that for years had been carried out under

the cover of darkness now had the approval of the U.S. government. The Underground Railroad had suddenly become official U.S. policy. Tens of thousands of enslaved people sought freedom across Union lines during the war. A Detroit underground leader explained, The war ended the usefulness of the railroad. The line of freedom moved south, keeping step by step with the battle line of the Union. But many underground operatives still felt useful and participated in the Union war effort. Frederick Douglass recruited black soldiers. Levi Coffin and other Quakers

fought to improve conditions in the refugee camps that housed former slaves. And the sons of White Station Master John Rankin and fugitive slaves Frederick Douglass and Josiah Henson all fought in the Union Army. Even Harriet Tubman served as a Union Army cook, nurse, and spy. In June 1863, she guided two Union Army gunboats carrying Black soldiers up South Carolina's Cumbee River in a daring raid that disrupted Confederate supply lines and freed over 700 slaves. At long last, in 1865, the Union defeated the Confederacy, and the Thirteenth Amendment outlawed slavery across the land. Five years later, former underground activists celebrated the ratification of the 15th Amendment, extending voting rights to black men.

They saw this as the crowning victory of their decades-long struggle. Levi Coffin spoke at a mass rally in Cincinnati, declaring, Our underground work is done. By then, the Underground Railroad had helped as many as 100,000 enslaved people secure freedom. Because its operations were so secretive, the true number of passengers can never be known. Still, they represented only a tiny fraction of the total population of Southern slaves. But for more than half a century, the courage and sacrifice of underground activists and the enslaved people they aided steadily chipped away at the institution of slavery. The Underground

Railroad was the nation's first mass movement of civil disobedience, engaging thousands of Americans in direct defiance of federal law. For the first time, but not the last, Black and White Americans collaborated as allies in a common struggle against injustice, risking everything in the pursuit of freedom. From Wondery, this is Episode 4 of our four-part series, The Underground Railroad, from American History Tellers. On the next episode, I speak with park ranger Angela Crenshaw about Harriet Tubman and the Underground Railroad. Before becoming director of the Maryland State Park Service,

Crenshaw helped lead the Harriet Tubman Underground Railroad State Park. If you like American History Tellers, you can binge all episodes early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. And before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery.com slash survey. American History Tellers is hosted, edited, and produced by me, Lindsey Graham for Airship. Audio editing by Christian Paraga. Sound design by Molly Bach.

Music by Lindsey Graham. Voice acting by Ace Anderson and Cat Peoples. This episode is written by Ellie Stanton. Edited by Dorian Marina. Produced by Alita Rozanski. Coordinating producer, Desi Blaylock. Managing producer, Matt Gant. Senior managing producer, Ryan Lohr.

Senior producer, Andy Herman. Executiveers are Jenny Lauer Beckman and Marsha Louis for Wondery. For more than two centuries, the White House has been the stage for some of the most dramatic scenes in American history. Inspired by the hit podcast American History Tellers, Wondery and William Morrow present the new book, The Hidden History of the White House. Each chapter will bring you inside the fierce power struggles, the world-altering decisions, and shocking scandals that have shaped our nation. You'll be there when the very foundations of the White House are laid in 1792, and you'll watch as the British burn it down in 1814.

Then you'll hear the intimate conversations between FDR and Winston Churchill as they make plans to defeat Nazi forces in 1941. And you'll be in the Situation Room when President Barack Obama approves the raid to bring down the most infamous terrorist in American history. Order The Hidden History of the White House now in hardcover or digital edition, wherever you get your books.