Articles

by Joe Paparone

On April 27, 1860, in Troy, N.Y., a few minutes’ drive away from where I live, Charles Nalle, a fugitive slave working to bring his family north, was betrayed by a wealthy local and kidnapped by slave catchers.  

There were two things the slave catchers didn’t count on: The abolitionists in Troy were organized and prepared to defend Charles. And the most wanted person in the country, Harriet Tubman, was in town.  

The abolitionists sprang into action. Two thousand people surrounded the police station where Charles was held. Lawyers raced to delay his removal. The crowd offered to purchase his freedom. There were scuffles with pro-slavery toughs in the street. Led by a disguised Harriet (who was inside the police station), the people wrested Charles free from police custody and quickly got him on a boat to cross the Hudson.  

From the riverbanks, they watched, seemingly helpless, as Charles was captured again on the opposite shore.  

But they weren’t helpless.  

The crowd commandeered every boat they could find, crossed the river, surrounded a police station again and broke inside. This time, they secured Charles’ freedom permanently.  

Some friends and I have organized a walking tour in Troy where we retell this story. We start with the details, including stops outside the home of Charles’ employer, another home of Underground Railroad conductors, the police station, and concluding at the edge of the river.  

We add historical analysis to each stop. We consider the pro- and anti- slavery forces of that moment, less than a year before the Civil War began. We discuss questions like: What were the social forces at that time? How were the abolitionists organized? Who made up the group of slave catchers?  

We try to stand in the shoes of this multiracial group of abolitionists to understand how they could do what they did that day and what lessons we can draw for our organizing now.  

We look at the role of religion on all sides of the struggle. We talk about how the slaveholders had their own versions of the Bible, with all references to liberation and freedom for captives excised. It was a very short book! Participants on our tours don’t fail to note similar hypocrisies by White Christian nationalists today.  

We discuss how abolitionist churches, like Liberty St. Presbyterian in Troy, served as bases of operation for the abolitionists. These congregations galvanized the community with a moral fortitude for the struggle and covertly facilitated the movement of runaways on the Underground Railroad.  

We talk about John Brown’s speech to the court before his execution, drawing from the New Testament, how Harriet’s nickname was Moses, and how Frederick Douglass’ speeches are also profound sermons. 

We conclude the tour by reading from Frederick Douglass’ speech after the Supreme Court’s Dred Scott decision in 1857. In a devastating setback to the abolition movement, the court stated that Black people had no rights that White people were bound to respect.  

Speaking to a demoralized movement, Douglass acknowledged that the enslavers had “the advantage of complete organization,” holding “the pen, the purse and the sword” (the media, the economic system and the political/military system), all aligned against abolition.  

We can only imagine the despair the abolitionists must have felt. In that moment of defeat, they took stock of their position. 

Douglass found hope in the rapid growth of the abolition movement: “From a cloud not bigger than a man’s hand, it has overspread the heavens. It has risen from a grain not bigger than a mustard seed. Yet see the fowls of the air, how they crowd its branches.” 

The abolitionists pursued the slow, patient work of organizing for justice. They continued building a network of individuals and communities to not only bring freedom to captives but to end the system that would hold anyone in such captivity. When the time came to defend their neighbor Charles Nalle, they were ready.   

Today we face a system of interlocking oppressions that may seem just as invincible as slavery might have seemed to abolitionists in 1860. To confront these oppressions, we must be driven by a faith that justice and freedom are not distant, spiritual futures that we can only hope for after death. Rather, justice and freedom are possible now. We can be inspired by the bravery and heroism of historic movements and leaders, but we must also study their methods, practices and mistakes. Anything less would be a betrayal of their faith and an indictment of our own.