So Much History

William Still

One of the Underground Railroad's most remarkable conductors was William Lloyd Still. William Still was born October 7, 1821 in Burlington County, New Jersey. Although he gave his official birthdate as October 7, 1821, Still provided the date of November 1819 on the 1900 census. His father, Levin Steel, had been enslaved, purchased his own freedom in 1798. When his wife, Sidney, was unable to do the same, she fled, taking with her the couple’s four children. She joined her husband in New Jersey, but before long they were tracked down by slave hunters and dragged back to Maryland. When Sidney fled a second time, she made the heartbreaking decision to leave behind her two eldest children, Levin, Jr. and Peter, knowing that she likely would never see them again.

Although born in a free state, all of her children were technically slaves because their mother was a fugitive slave. Once the family was settled in rural South Jersey where they hoped to make a new life for themselves as free people, and where they hoped to evade the long reach of slavery. Levin changed the spelling of their last name to Still and Sidney took a new name, Charity. They never forgot the two boys that had been left behind. When William was born, it was into a family that was acutely aware of its connection to slavery, a family that felt an obligation to help others in their flight from bondage. Throughout William Still's childhood, he worked with his family on their farm and also found work as a woodcutter. Although Still received very little formal education, he did learn to read and write, teaching himself. Still's literary skills would help him become a prominent abolitionist and advocate for formerly enslaved people.

As a young boy, Still and other family members aided fugitive slaves—hiding them from slave catchers, and guiding them to freedom. In 1844, at the age of 23, William Still left his rural home behind and relocated to Philadelphia, where he worked first as a janitor. Still quickly immersed himself in the city’s vibrant free Black community. He found work at the Pennsylvania Anti-Slavery Society, an interracial organization where he was able to continue his efforts in service to fugitives from slavery. While he was in Philadelphia, Still met and married Letitia George. Following their marriage in 1847, the couple had four children. Their home became a center for the Underground Railroad and the first stop of hundreds of fugitive slaves on their way to freedom further north.

Still also became the chairman of Philadelphia’s Vigilance Committee, an organization loosely affiliated with the Anti-Slavery Society. The Philadelphia’s Vigilance Committee, maintained connections with allies in neighboring towns like Wilmington, Delaware, or Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, who would meet fugitives and send them on to Still. Still’s job was to ensure that fugitives moved through Philadelphia as safely and efficiently as possible. This meant coordinating with allies outside of the city, sometimes in towns just miles outside of Philadelphia, other times in Southern port cities as far away as Norfolk, Virginia. It meant making sure that when fugitives arrived in the city, they were met at the docks or the train station and guided to a safe place to stay—often the Still family home.

The committee sometimes provided new clothes for fugitives; it paid to bathe and shave fugitives to make them less conspicuous. The group offered food and comfort to those who had known little of this on their flight from bondage. It gathered information, always seeking to stay one step ahead of the slave catchers who roamed the streets of Northern cities and towns searching for fugitive slaves. At times it mobilized the African American community of Philadelphia and beyond to protect fugitives with physical force. To make all of this possible, the committee also raised money, with public events and private solicitations. In addition to gathering information from informants across the city in order to anticipate the actions of the slave hunters who prowled the city.

Still’s organization received support from as far away as Great Britain. All of this cost money, and Still was also responsible for raising that money and making sure the money was accounted for. Each expenditure was carefully recorded in his neat hand. Still’s work sometimes brought him face to face with the enemy—an arrogant slaveholder on the Delaware docks or a villainous slave catcher in a Philadelphia back alley. Between 1844 and 1865, Still helped at least 60 enslaved African American people escape bondage. Still interviewed many of the enslaved Black people seeking freedom, men, women, and families, documenting where they came from, the difficulties they met and, their final destination, and the pseudonyms they used to relocate.

William Still was working as a clerk for the Pennsylvania Anti-Slavery Society, when a former slave calling himself Peter Freedman turned up in his Philadelphia office. The older fugitive had an incredible story to tell, but the clerk was too busy to pay much attention. It was August 1850, and most anti-slavery activists were focused on the great national debate over slavery that was taking place in Congress. One excitable ex-slave from Alabama hardly compared to the importance of stopping the spread of slavery or preventing the passage of a new fugitive slave law. But as William Still fidgeted impatiently behind his desk, he suddenly realized that the man sitting across from him was actually his brother. It was August 1850, and he had come to Philadelphia looking for parents he had not seen in decades—not since he was separated from them as a child and sold south. The journey from Alabama had been long and arduous, but now that he was here, he was unsure if he should have come. Would he even recognize his parents if he saw them? It had been more than 40 years, after all.

Still looked at Freedman. “What were your parents’ names?” he asked. Freedman told him about his parents, his older brother Levin and his sisters. Still asked him to repeat the names and inquired if there was anybody else Freedman could remember, peppering him with questions as though he did not believe what Freedman said and was hoping to catch him in some inconsistency. Still sat next to Freedman and looked him directly in the face. “Suppose I should tell you that I am your brother?” he said, his voice now trembling. “My father’s name was Levin, and my mother’s name is Sidney, and they lost two boys named Levin and Peter, about the time you speak of. I have often heard my mother mourn about those two children, and I am sure you must be one of them”.

By the time Still came face to face with his long-lost brother, he had already committed himself to aiding fugitives from slavery. The unexpected reunion inspired a new commitment to keeping detailed records of his work. This was the work that Still did, day in and day out, but his position at the center of this vast abolitionist network also involved him in some of the most dramatic events of the era. When Henry Brown mailed himself in a box in order to escape slavery, Still was one of the men who was there to open that box in Philadelphia. When slave catchers threatened the safety of a group of fugitive slaves in Christiana, PA, Still received intelligence of the plans of these slave catchers and passed it along to allies who were able to successfully drive off the slave hunters. 

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