William "Box" Peel Jones was an enslaved African American who, in 1859, was shipped in a box from an unknown location to the home of the abolitionist William Still (1819-1902) in Philadelphia and then traveled on, with assistance from the Underground Railroad, to freedom in Canada.
His story is interesting in its own right but has the added dimension of being among the many contradicting the criticism of abolitionist Frederick Douglass (1818-1895) of Henry Box Brown (circa 1815 to 1897) for publicizing his own 1849 escape in a box which, Douglass claimed, would prevent others from escaping in the same way.
Henry Box Brown (circa 1815 to 1897) famously escaped slavery by having himself mailed from Richmond, Virginia, to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, in 1849. Once freed, Brown wrote his autobiography, Narrative of the Life of Henry Box Brown, Written by Himself (1851), and embarked on a speaking tour, which included a re-enactment of his escape.
Douglass condemned Brown's book and lectures as he felt publicizing his escape would bring closer scrutiny of parcels heading from the Southern slave states to the North, but, in fact, Douglass was wrong. In 1854, the enslaved Clarissa Davis had herself shipped in a box aboard a ship from Virginia to Pennsylvania, and in 1857, the unnamed Woman Escaping in a Box did the same. Also in 1857, the enslaved woman Lear Green (circa 1839 to 1860) had herself shipped in a chest from Baltimore, Maryland, to freedom in Philadelphia. William "Box" Peel Jones may have been inspired by these others and had his friend, known only by the initials N. L. J., send him north in a box in 1859, in a trip lasting 17 hours, to William Still of Philadelphia.
William Still & His Records
William Still was the son of a father who had purchased his freedom and a fugitive slave mother from Maryland who had escaped to New Jersey. In his youth, he had helped a free Black farmer escape from slave-catchers who insisted he was a fugitive slave. This event, coupled with his parents' stories of their time as slaves, and the knowledge that, though born free in a free state, because he was the son of a fugitive slave woman, he was technically enslaved, drew Still toward the abolitionist movement.
In 1847, William Still began working as a clerk for the Pennsylvania Society for the Abolition of Slavery, and, as freedom seekers from the South came to his home, a safe house on the Underground Railroad, he would interview them and record the details of their escape, where they came from, what they remembered of their families, and where they were then sent to in the North. He hoped these records would one day help families reunite.
At some point, fearing his records might be found and used by slave-catchers to locate the formerly enslaved, Still burned at least some of these records. Later, after the American Civil War and the abolition of slavery, his children encouraged him to write a book about his time working with the Underground Railroad. This became The Underground Railroad Records (1872), regarded as one of the most significant primary documents of the period.
If Still did, in fact, burn his records, he must have had copies, notes, or a very good memory, as he was able to reproduce the narratives of various freedom seekers in 1872. At times, however, the loss of the original records seems apparent, as in the case of William "Box" Peel Jones, where his point of origin is unknown, as is the identity of his friend who boxed him up, shipped him north, and delivered him to Still.
At the same time, the cause of these omissions can only be speculative, and perhaps Peel Jones simply did not offer any further information, or Still did not write the facts down upon their first meeting. In discussing the narrative of Woman Escaping in a Box, 1857, in his Underground Railroad Records, Still writes:
In many instances, after hearing the most painful narratives, we had neither the time nor the inclination to write them out, except in the briefest manner, simply sufficient to identify parties.
(359)
This may be the case with Peel Jones, as it seems to have been with many others.
Shipping Slaves to Freedom
Henry Box Brown hit upon the idea of having himself shipped in a box to Philadelphia in 1849 when he could think of no other way to gain his freedom. Brown was nailed into a wooden box 3 feet x 2.67 feet x 2 feet (91 x 81 x 61 cm) and sent to the Quaker abolitionist Passmore Williamson (1822-1895, a friend and co-worker of William Still) in Philadelphia.
He traveled in the box for 27 hours until he was unboxed by the abolitionists of Philadelphia and began his new life as a free man. Brown then embarked on his anti-slavery lecture tour, sponsored by Northern abolitionists, telling his story, illustrating it with elaborate stage shows, and promoting his book in the Northern United States and, later, in England. Frederick Douglass condemned his show as he felt publicizing Brown's escape-by-box would alert slaveholders to this escape route and prevent others from doing the same.
Professor of English and Africana Studies Martha Cutter has noted this in her work on Henry Box Brown. Writer Christine Buckley, of the University of Connecticut, comments on Brown's shows and Douglass' reaction in discussing Cutter's work:
Minstrel shows were the rage in Britain, notes Cutter, and Brown began developing a show of his own, blending panoramas, magic, and plays, in which he called himself such names as "Prof. H. Box Brown" and "The African Prince." In later years, he experimented with so-called electrobiology, a form of hypnotism. But nearly every performance included the dramatic flourish in which he reenacted his emergence from what he claimed was the original box in which he was shipped…Brown's public image didn't go over well with prominent anti-slavery figures of the time. Douglass publicly denounced Brown's book, Narrative of the Life of Henry Box Brown, in which he described the means of his escape, because Douglass wished he had kept it secret so others could be freed that way. He also looked down on Brown's elaborate shows, says Cutter.
(2)
Douglass certainly had a point, but this did not prevent others from emulating Brown (or coming up with the idea on their own) and having themselves sent north by mail. Even before it became officially illegal in the United States to open mail addressed to another person (1920), it was still just "not done", and so, whatever suspicions slaveholders may have had regarding a certain parcel, they could not open it to confirm their fears. In this way, enslaved persons like Lear Green and William "Box" Peel Jones were mailed to freedom. This practice of sending humans through the US postal system was declared illegal in June 1920.
Text
The following is taken from The Underground Railroad Records (1872) by William Still, republished by Modern Library in 2019. William Peel Jones wrote to Still from Albany, New York, after leaving Philadelphia to thank him and let him know he was working in a store there for 16 dollars a month. This letter appears under Still's narrative below.
His friend, N. L. J., also wrote Still, asking when "Israel went to Jericho", code for when Peel Jones reached Canada. Although "Jericho" was not widely used by slaves or abolitionists for "Canada", it is a code word that N. L. J. may be using here in the same way the Ohio River was regularly referenced as "The River Jordan," and freedom seekers were known as "cargo." The line may also refer to Sutton Township in Canada East, a Black settlement that welcomed freedom seekers. The letter from N. L. J. follows Jones' letter. The spelling in both has not been corrected.
WILLIAM PEEL, ALIAS WILLIAM BOX PEEL JONES.
ARRIVED PER ERRICSON LINE OF STEAMERS, WRAPPED IN STRAW AND BOXED UP, APRIL 1859.William is twenty-five years of age, unmistakably colored, good-looking, rather under the medium size, and of pleasing manners. William had himself boxed up by a near relative and forwarded by the Erricson line of steamers.
He gave the slip to Robert H. Carr, his owner (a grocer and commission merchant), after this wise, and for the following reasons: For some time previous, his master had been selling off his slaves every now and then, the same as other groceries, and this admonished William that he was liable to be in the market any day; consequently, he preferred the box to the auction-block.
He did not complain of having been treated very badly by Carr but felt that no man was safe while owned by another. In fact, he "hated the very name of slaveholder." The limit of the box not admitting of straightening himself out he was taken with the cramp on the road, suffered indescribable misery, and had his faith taxed to the utmost, —indeed was brought to the very verge of "screaming aloud" ere relief came.
However, he controlled himself, though only for a short season, for before a great while an excessive faintness came over him. Here nature became quite exhausted. He thought he must "die;" but his time had not yet come. After a severe struggle he revived, but only to encounter a third ordeal no less painful than the one through which he had just passed. Next a very "cold chill" came over him, which seemed almost to freeze the very blood in his veins and gave him intense agony, from which he only found relief on awaking, having actually fallen asleep in that condition.
Finally, however, he arrived at Philadelphia, on a steamer, Sabbath morning. A devoted friend of his, expecting him, engaged a carriage and repaired to the wharf for the box. The bill of lading and the receipt he had with him, and likewise knew where the box was located on the boat. Although he well knew freight was not usually delivered on Sunday, yet his deep solicitude for the safety of his friend determined him to do all that lay in his power to rescue him from his perilous situation.
Handing his bill of lading to the proper officer of the boat, he asked if he could get the freight that it called for. The officer looked at the bill and said, "No, we do not deliver freight on Sunday;" but, noticing the anxiety of the man, he asked him if he would know it if he were to see it. Slowly—fearing that too much interest manifested might excite suspicion—he replied: "I think I should."
Deliberately looking around amongst all the "freight," he discovered the box, and said, "I think that is it there." Said officer stepped to it, looked at the directions on it, then at the bill of lading, and said, "That is right, take it along." Here the interest in these two bosoms was thrilling in the highest degree.
But the size of the box was too large for the carriage, and the driver refused to take it. Nearly an hour and a half was spent in looking for a furniture car. Finally, one was procured, and again the box was laid hold of by the occupant's particular friend, when, to his dread alarm, the poor fellow within gave a sudden cough.
At this startling circumstance, he dropped the box; equally as quick, although dreadfully frightened, and, as if helped by some invisible agency, he commenced singing, "Hush, my babe, lie still and slumber," with the most apparent indifference, at the same time slowly making his way from the box.
Soon his fears subsided, and it was presumed that no one was any the wiser on account of the accident or coughing. Thus, after summoning courage, he laid hold of the box a third time, and the Rubicon was passed. The car driver, totally ignorant of the contents of the box, drove to the number to which he was directed to take it—left it and went about his business.
Now is a moment of intense interest—now of inexpressible delight. The box is opened, the straw removed, and the poor fellow is loosed; and is rejoicing, I will venture to say, as mortal never did rejoice, who had not been in similar peril.
This particular friend was scarcely less overjoyed, however, and their joy did not abate for several hours; nor was it confined to themselves, for two invited members of the Vigilance Committee also partook of a full share. This box man was named Wm. Jones. He was boxed up in Baltimore by the friend who received him at the wharf, who did not come in the boat with him, but came in the cars and met him at the wharf.
The trial in the box lasted just seventeen hours before victory was achieved. Jones was well cared for by the Vigilance Committee and sent on his way rejoicing, feeling that Resolution, Underground Railroad, and Liberty were invaluable.
On his way to Canada, he stopped at Albany, and the subjoined letter gives his view of things from that stand-point—
MR. STILL: —I take this opportunity of writing a few lines to you hoping that tha may find you in good health and femaly. i am well at present and doing well at present i am now in a store and getting sixteen dollars a month at the present. i feel very much o blige to you and your family for your kindnes to me while i was with you i have got a long without any trub le a tal. i am now in Albany City. give my lov to mrs and mr miller and tel them i am very much a blige to them for there kind ns. give my lov to my Brother nore Jones tel him i should like to here from him very much and he must write. tel him to give my love to all of my perticnlar frends and tel them i should like to see them very much. tel him that he must come to see me for i want to see him for sum thing very perticler. please ansure this letter as soon as posabul and excuse me for not writting sooner as i don't write myself. no more at the present.
WILLIAM JONES.
derect to one hundred 125 lydus. stt
His good friend returned to Baltimore the same day the box man started for the North, and immediately dispatched through the post the following brief letter, worded in Underground Rail Road parables:
BALTIMO APRIL 16, 1859.
W. STILL:—Dear brother i have taken the opportunity of writing you these few lines to inform you that i am well an hoping these few lines may find you enjoying the same good blessing please to write me word at what time was it when isreal went to Jericho i am very anxious to hear for thare is a mighty host will pass over and you and i my brother will sing hally luja i shall notify you when the great catastrophe shall take place No more at the present but remain your brother
N.L.J.