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CHAPTER 9
MONOPOLY

SOLUTIONS TO END OF CHAPTER PROBLEMS

1. If a firm’s long-run average cost curve slopes downward throughout the range of market demand,
a single firm can produce at a lower average cost than any other firm that tries to enter the market.
As firms compete to increase their market shares by expanding and thus lowering cost and price,
a single firm emerges naturally from the process. Any new firm trying to enter the market is
unable to match the monopolist’s economies of scale and, therefore, is unable to match the
monopolist’s price.

2. Legal restrictions and control over an essential resources are the other two barriers to entry.
One way to prevent new firms from entering a market is to make entry illegal. Patents, licenses,
and other legal restrictions imposed by the government provide some producers with legal
protection against competition. Sometimes the source of monopoly power is a firm’s control
over some resource critical to production. If you can’t obtain the resource then you can’t
produce the product.

3. a. Using demand and cost curves, draw a diagram depicting the firm’s profit-maximizing price
and output level.

b. Why is marginal revenue less than price for this firm?

c. On your diagram, show the deadweight loss that occurs because the output level is
determined by a monopoly rather than by a competitive market.
d. What would happen if the Greeks decided to charge the manufacturer a royalty fee of $3 per
ring?

a.

Profit is maximized at point e (MR = MC), where Qm units are sold at a price of Pm each.
b. With a downward-sloping demand curve, additional units can be sold only by lowering the
price on all units.

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Chapter 9 Monopoly 2

c. The deadweight loss is the area of triangle bce. If this was a competitive market, the industry
would produce at point c since the LRAC is the industry’s long-run supply curve in a
constant-cost industry. Consumer surplus would equal the area of the triangle acf. With the
monopoly, consumer surplus shrinks to the area of triangle abpm, a loss of area pmbcf. The
portion pmbef of the lost consumer surplus is redistributed to the monopolist as economic
profit. Triangle bce is not redistributed—it is a deadweight loss.
d. This would shift the LRAC curve upward by $3 and increase MC by $3. Therefore, the new
MC curve would intersect the MR curve at a lower output level, leading to a higher price.

4. a. It will produce 100 units of output and sell them at a price of $10 each
b. Total cost of approximately $750; total revenue of $1,000
c. Economic profit of approximately $250

5. When there is only one firm in a market, the price that the firm charges determines the market
quantity for its product. In order to maximize profit, the monopolist restricts its output; the
quantity is determined by equating marginal revenue with marginal cost, at point b. The quantity
is Qm and the price is on the demand curve, Pm. At that quantity, the consumer’s marginal benefit
exceeds the monopolist’s marginal cost. The consumer surplus is the triangle aPmm, producer
surplus is the rectangle PmmbPc, and the deadweight loss is the triangle mbc.

Under perfect competition, the price is Pc, lower than the monopoly price, and the quantity is Qc,
higher than the monopoly quantity. Consumer surplus is the triangle acPc, and there is no
producer surplus. Social welfare, as the sum of consumer and producer surplus, is maximized in
perfect competition.

6. Part of the reduction in consumer surplus under monopoly is considered a deadweight loss
because it is a loss to consumers and no one reaps the benefits. A deadweight loss is a result of
higher prices and reduced output. In a monopoly, price always exceeds marginal costs, so society
would be worse off under a monopoly.

7. The loss may be smaller because a monopolist may have economies of scale that are not available
to a perfectly competitive firm and, thus, can charge a lower price. A monopolist may charge a
lower price to discourage entry of new firms or in response to political pressure. The loss may
be larger because resources may be diverted from more productive uses to secure the
monopolist’s position (rent seeking). Lack of competition may eliminate pressure for the
monopolist to maximize efficiency or to be innovative.

8. First, the firm must be a price maker—that is, it must have some control over its price. Second,
it must be able to separate consumers into two or more groups with different elasticities of
demand. Finally, the firm must be able to prevent the group facing the lower price from reselling
the product to the group facing the higher price.

9. This is a simple price discrimination problem. One need only assume that the demand elasticity
in the United States is greater than in Korea. This assumption is reasonable if the U.S. market
has more substitutes. Also, the long distance would prevent U.S. buyers from reselling in Korea.
Price discrimination calls for a higher price in Korea, where the price elasticity of demand is
lower. (By the way, it appears that autos are indeed sold at a higher price in Korea than in the
United States.)

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permitted in a license distributed with a certain product or service or otherwise on a password-protected website for classroom use.
Chapter 9 Monopoly 3

10. The perfectly discriminating monopolist can charge a different price for each unit as output
expands. By increasing output by one unit, the perfectly discriminating monopolist loses no
revenue from previous output since the prices attached to previous units do not change. The gain
in revenue is therefore just the price charged on the marginal unit.

© 2019 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be copied, scanned, or duplicated, in whole or in part, except for use as
permitted in a license distributed with a certain product or service or otherwise on a password-protected website for classroom use.
Random documents with unrelated
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 Whilst the trio were hastening to the barn, Charley, in obedience
to the woman’s directions, hastily ascended a ladder in the corner of
the room, which he drew up, and placed a board in such a way as to
obliterate all appearance of an opening in the floor.
The conference at the barn was short, and away went the riders
up the road in hot pursuit of a mythical nigger the man at the barn
had seen running in that direction not half an hour before.
In a few minutes the husband returned to the house, milk pail in
hand, but entirely ignorant of what had transpired within. “What
about the boy, wife, those men were enquiring about? I supposed
they were in pursuit of some one, so I sent them up the road after
an imaginary man,” he said.
“Well, I don’t know anything about your imaginary man, but I
know about the boy,” replied the wife.
“Well, where is he?”
“He went from under my bed up the ladder whilst the men were
going for you. Baby helped the matter mightily. Now you must carry
the poor fellow something to eat.”
As soon as it was deemed safe, the ladder was let down, and
Charley was supplied with a hearty breakfast, and then bidden to
make himself comfortable for the day, a thing he was not slow to do,
as he had slept little since his flight began. When evening came, he
was called down, and after a bountiful supper, which was dispatched
in silence, he was taken to the road where three horses were
standing. On one of these a man was already seated; the second
Charley was bidden to mount, and into the saddle of the third his
kind host vaulted.
Moving around the town, they came to a road leading northward,
Charley’s feelings alternately ebbing and flowing between fear and
hope, for, notwithstanding the kindness of his host and hostess, he
could but fear that he was to be given up for the $500.
Proceeding some distance up the river, the horses were hitched in
some bushes and the party descended to the river, where a boat was
loosened and Charley was bidden to enter. When all were seated,
the little craft pushed out into the stream, and soon Charley and his
host stepped onto the other shore. Going up the bank into a public
highway, the man placed in his hands some little articles of clothing
and some bread, and then, pointing with the index finger, said:
“Yonder is the North Star; you are now in a free state and may go
forward; may God bless you; good-by;” and before Charley, in his
astonishment, could utter a word, he was gone. A few moments the
fugitive stood in a reverie which was broken by the splash of the oar
in the river below, and he awoke to the consciousness that he was
again alone. On the one hand was the beautiful river, whose outline
he could dimly see; on the other were far-reaching fields, with no
habitation looming up in the darkness, and above him was the star
bespangled sky, among whose myriad twinklers he looked in vain for
the one which had so recently been pointed out to him. Alas, the
defectiveness of his education! whilst others of his kind had been
diligent in securing a definite knowledge of this loadstone of the
Heavens, he had been happy in the discharge of the light duties of
his childhood home, never once thinking of flight until the fact of his
sale was broken to him by his mother, and then there was no time
for schooling. The dazed condition in which he now found himself
from the revelations of the past hour caused him to look up to the
starry firmament as into vacancy, finding nothing with which to
guide himself. At length he proceeded a short distance, but
becoming bewildered he sat down and soon fell asleep and dreamed
that two men came and were putting him in jail. His struggles and
resistance wakened him, and he set out and proceeded as best he
could in the darkness. Just at daylight he espied a piece of paper
nailed to a fence.
Approaching it he perceived it had upon it the picture of a negro
running, and in every way looked like the one the landlord had
shown him in the barn. Whilst standing thus before the picture,
wrapped in thought as to what to do next, he felt a hand laid upon
his shoulder, and turning saw a man with a very broad-brimmed hat
and so peculiarly clothed as he had never seen one before. He was
about to run when the man said: “Stop, friend, thee need not run.
What have we here?” and reading the bill, he at once remarked:
“Why, friend, this means thee, and thy master is ready to pay any
man $500, who will place thee in his hands. Come with me or
somebody may enrich himself at thy expense.”
There was something so kind and frank in the manner and words
of the man that Charley followed him to a retreat deep in the woods.
Seeing that he had bread with him, the stranger said: “Keep quiet
and I will bring thee more food to-night,” and immediately left.
As was customary in other cases, hand-bills minutely describing
Charley had been widely distributed, and, of course, read by
everybody, and it being a free country everybody had a right to
apply the information gained as he saw fit. So it was that when
Charley’s master crossed into Ohio twelve hours after his chattel,
and proceeded northward, he found no lack of persons who had
seen just such a person that very day. Even our friend of the early
morning described him minutely and had seen him wending his way
into the interior only a few hours before, bearing with him a little
bundle. As the route at this season of the year was supposed to be
towards Sandusky or Detroit, the pursuers were decoyed on by the
way of Carrollton, Allian and Ravenna towards the lake, by the
smooth stories of men who had seen him only a day or two before—
but only on paper. Wearied, however, they at length committed his
capture to the hands of the organized set of biped hounds which
infested the whole south shore from Detroit to Buffalo, and returned
homeward.
When Charley’s friend returned to him in the evening, he informed
him of the little interview he had had with his master, and that it
would be necessary for him to remain some time in his charge. He
was consequently taken to a more comfortable hiding place, and
after the lapse of some three weeks was forwarded by way of New
Lisbon, Poland, and Indian Run, to Meadville, and thence by way of
Cambridge and Union to the parsonage at Wattsburg.
 III.
The traveler who has been swept along on the Nickle Plate or Lake
Shore Rail Road over the Black Swamp country and onward through
Cleveland, Ashtabula and Erie, seeing little that savors of roughness,
except perchance the gulches about the Forest City, the bluffs at
Euclid and Little Mountain in the distance, would little think as he
crosses the unpretentious bridges spanning Six-Mile-Creek, east of
Erie, that just a little way back it passed through some wild and
rugged country; yet such is the fact. Down through a deep gorge
come its crystal waters, whilst high above them on its precipitate
banks the hemlock has cast its somber shadows for centuries. Into a
thin, scarcely accessible portion of this gorge came years ago John
Cass, and took possession of a primitive “carding works,” where he
diligently plied his craft, rearing his sons and daughters to habits of
industry, frugality, virtue, and a love of their little church, which is
situated some two miles away on an elevated plateau, which, from
its largely Celtic population has acquired the appelation of “Wales.”
The little Celts of this rural community were very much surprised
one winter day to see their old pastor, Parson Rice, who resided at
Wattsburg, go dashing by the school-house with a colored man in
his sleigh. Never before had their unsophisticated eyes seen such a
sight, and what they that day beheld was the all-engrossing theme
in the homes of the Joneses, the Williamses and the Davises that
night.
As for Parson Rice, he kept right on down, down, until he reached
the carding works of his worthy parishioner, where the woolly head
of Charley was safely hidden amid fleeces of a far whiter hue.
In this retreat he remained for some time, and was taught his
letters by the young Casses, William, Edward, Jane and the others.
When, at length, it was deemed safe to remove him, he was taken
by Mrs. Cass to the office of the True American in the city. From this,
after a little delay, he was conveyed to the home of Col. Jas.
Moorhead, who passed him on to Parson Nutting, at State Line, by
whom he was duly forwarded to Knowlton Station, Westfield, New
York.
Though the temperature was below zero, it was again getting hot
for Charley, for vigilant eyes all along the line were watching for the
young nigger whose return to his master was sure to bring $500,
and that he had reached the lake shore was now a well ascertained
fact, and unusual activity was noticed among the kidnapping crew.
It was a bitter cold day, with the snow flying and drifting, that Mr.
Knowlton’s spanking team of jet blacks, still well remembered by
many a Westfielder, came out of his yard attached to a sleigh, in the
bottom of which was a package evidently of value, as it was carefully
covered with blankets and robe. Under a tight rein the team headed
eastward, and with almost the fleetness of the wind passed Portland,
Brocton, and turning at the old Pemberton stand, in Fredonia, made
Pettit Station. Here Charley was made safe and happy for the night,
and the next day was landed safely in the Queen’s Dominion from
Black Rock.
 CHAPTER VIII.
STATIE LINES.

I.

I t was in the decade of the forties that an enterprising farmer,

named Barbour, of the Empire State, said to his neighbor, “Smith,
I’ve a project in my head.”
“Nothing strange in that,” was the response; “I never knew the
time when you didn’t have one; but what is it?”
“Well, you know I spent a few days about Washington recently,
and I believe there is money to be made in going into its vicinity and
buying up some of the worn-out farms and applying to them our
agricultural methods, and raising products specially for the city
market.”
“What can they be purchased for?”
“Anywhere from $5.00 to $10.00 an acre, any amount of them. I
tell you there’s money in it.”
“But it would be to ostracise one’s self. You know that there they
consider it a disgrace for a white man to labor.”
“All right. All I propose is head work.”
“How is that? Democrat as you are, I don’t believe you would go
so far as to invest in slaves.”
“No, indeed. I am fully satisfied that slavery is the curse of the
South, yet it exists there, and I am bound to make some money out
of it and its fruits. You see the land has been rendered worthless by
slave labor in the hands of the masters, hence the extremely low
price of it. As a result of the deteriorated condition of their farms,
the owners of slaves are now hiring them out for wages which range
much lower than with us here in New York. Whilst loathing slavery in
the abstract, I confess I propose to use it for a while on wages, if
some of my neighbors will join me in a purchase, so we can have a
little society of our own. Will you take a hand, Smith?”
“I’ll think of it.”
As a result of the above conversation there were purchased in a
few weeks seven or eight worn-out farms in the immediate vicinity
of Washington, and in a short time they were occupied by as many
sterling families from Onondaga county, N. Y. Modern methods of
agriculture were applied, fertilizers were abundantly used, and
though slave labor was extensively employed the fields soon yielded
luxuriantly, and everything was at high tide with the newcomers,
disturbed only by the twinges of conscience at the employment of
southern chattel.
Among those who furnished these, was a Mr. Lines, residing just
across the Potomac, in Virginia. Of him Mr. Barbour hired a number
of slaves, among them a woman named Statie, nearly white, who
was the mother of an amiable little girl six or seven years of age,
bearing a close resemblance to the children belonging in the Lines
mansion. This woman had the privilege of hiring herself out on
condition of paying her master $10 per month and clothing herself
and child. This she did cheerfully, laying by what she could, under
the hope of being able ultimately to buy the freedom of her little girl,
Lila, who was permitted to be with her at Mr. Barbour’s where
mother and child were both very kindly and considerately treated.
The excellent qualities of Statie as a cook having been noised
about, her services were sought for a Washington hotel where much
higher wages were paid than Mr. Barbour could afford and he
advised her to go, as a means of the sooner freeing her child, which
was consequently transferred to the home of her owner, where her
services could now be made of some little avail.
 At the end of a quarter Statie was permitted to visit home, where
she soon learned through a fellow slave that a dealer had been
negotiating for Lila and that at his return in a few weeks a price was
to be fixed and he was to take her. The heart of the mother was
wrung with agony, but the soul of the heroine rose triumphant and
she went into the presence of Mr. Lines with a smile upon her face
and the cheery words, “Here, Master, are your thirty dollars, and I’ve
half as many laid by for the purchase of Lila,” upon her lips.
“Indeed, Statie, you’ve done well. It won’t be long till I’ll have to
give the little doll up if you go on at this rate.”
“I hope not, master, for I long to see the darling with her free
papers in hand.”
With a lying effort, the master replied, “I hope you may succeed,
for I would much sooner sell her to you than to any one else, and I
shall wait on you as long as possible.”
Expressing her thanks for what she knew was a hypocritical
promise, Statie asked that the child might be allowed to accompany
her to the capital for a few days, a request readily granted by Mr.
Lines that he might the more easily avert any suspicion of his real
purpose.
Cutting short her visit, Statie soon started with her child for the
city, but walked several miles out of her way to lay her troubles
before Mr. and Mrs. Barbour, who were greatly shocked at the
revelation. Though depreciating anything in the line of underground
work, Mr. Barbour, to whom Lila had specially endeared herself by
her childish ingenuousness, after a few moments reflection said,
“Wife, you know I propose making a journey across Pennsylvania
soon to the vicinity of our old home. Will there be any harm in my
seeing that Lila gets there?”
“No, husband; and you have my permission to see that Statie goes
too. I don’t think your politics ought to cripple your humanity, much
less your religion. Do unto others as ye would that they should do
unto you.”
 Mr. Barbour’s mind was soon made up, and Statie was dismissed
with instructions to meet him on a by-road a little way out from the
old north burial ground soon after dark on the Wednesday evening
following.
In arranging for his proposed trip, Mr. Barbour had provided
himself with a good team and a “Jersey wagon” well covered with oil
cloth, supported by bows. In this wagon he placed a high box so cut
down in front as to furnish a seat for himself, and so arranged that a
person could sit upright in the hinder part with feet projecting
forward. To the rear of this box, were attached doors, secured by a
padlock whilst a good supply of straw, clothing and provisions were
placed within. When all else was ready, the Jersey was labeled
“Clocks,” and Wednesday night Mr. Barbour drove out to the point of
rendezvous where Statie and Lila were found waiting, they were
immediately placed in their extemporized retreat and the unique
emancipation car moved northward across the hills of Maryland at a
rapid rate.
 II.
It was court time in Warsaw, N. Y., and a large number of people
were gathered about the principal hotel when a man holding the
reins over a spanking team drove up and ordered accommodations
for the team and himself. Beckoning the hostler forward he
proceeded with the team. As he passed, a bystander remarked, “A
right, royal team, that.”
“Pretty good for a peddler,” remarked another.
“Do you call that man a peddler?” queried a third.
“Didn’t you see ‘Clocks’ on the cover?” came back from No. 2.
“No, indeed,” was the reply, “I was too intent in looking upon the
horses to notice anything else. Some down easter I suppose; sold
out his load over among the pennymights, and is now on his way
home likely.”
Breakfast over the traveler inquired of the landlord if he knew one
Col. C. O. Shepard, of Attica.
“Very well,” was the reply, “he is here attending court.”
“I shall be glad to see him. As he is a stranger to me, you will
please call him in.”
The Colonel soon appeared when the stranger said, “This is Col.
Shepard, I believe.”
“Shepard is my name, but I have not the honor of knowing you,
sir.”
“It is not essential that you should; to me it is politic you should
not. I wish to make a little consignment to you,” saying which he led
the way to the barn, followed by the Colonel and a number of by-
standers, where he opened a box in his vehicle from which emerged
a well-formed octaroon woman of some thirty summers and a
sprightly girl, white as any in the homes of Warsaw. At the sight of
these there went up a rousing three times three, at the conclusion of
which the stranger said, “These, gentlemen, are what among my
neighbors are called chattel and treated as such, and that with my
tacit endorsement, at least. Ten days ago if any man had told me I
would assist one to escape, I should have laughed him to scorn; but
when this poor woman who had worked faithfully in my family to
earn the wherewith to buy the freedom of her own flesh and blood,
which, against honied professions to the contrary from him who
should have been the innocent one’s firmest protector, was about to
be sold into an ignominious servitude, came to me and pleaded for
the deliverance of her child and my wife quoted, ‘Do unto others as
ye would that they should do unto you,’ my sense of right and
humanity rose above all political antecedents and predilections and
here I am. Since leaving the Potomac, no human eye has looked
upon these beings but mine until this moment. My affiliations and
the fact it was well known I was coming north on business will shield
me from suspicion, therefore ask no questions. To the direct care of
Colonel Shepard, of whom the slave-owners in Dixie well know and
to the protection of you all, I now consign them, trusting that no
master’s hand shall ever again be laid upon them.”
There was again vociferous cheering, at the conclusion of which
Col. Shepard said, “We accept the charge and I ask as a special
favor that you give me the box in which you have brought them thus
far on their way, as a kind of memento,” a request that was readily
acceded to, and in a few minutes a Jersey wagon labeled “Clocks”
was speeding rapidly eastward, whilst in a day or two the box and its
former occupants were taken triumphantly to Attica, the home of
Col. Shepard.
 III.
The time was when every person holding an office under the
general government was supposed to be in sympathy with the slave
power and ready to obey its behests, an idea somewhat erroneous.
It was under such impressions that two strangers rode up to the
post-office in the village of Attica and inquired for the postmaster.
On that functionary’s presenting himself they inquired if he knew
anything of a slave woman, nearly white, with her little girl, being in
the neighborhood, as such persons had recently escaped from the
vicinity of Washington, and were believed by them to be in the
immediate vicinity.
The postmaster invited them to alight and come inside, which
being complied with, he said, “Gentlemen, the persons you seek are
within a half mile of you, but though I might under some
circumstances be willing to assist you, my advice is, let them alone.
Every man, woman and child in the town is ready to protect them.
You can not raise men enough in this county to secure their
apprehension. I see by the commotion in the street the people are
apprehensive of mischief. Such a thing as an abduction has never
been attempted here, and if you are wise you will not attempt one
now. Indeed I would not like to guarantee your limbs or life fifteen
minutes longer.”
Beholding the commotion, the would-be kidnappers quickly
mounted their horses and rode silently out of town, no
demonstration being made by the multitude until the meddlers
reached the bridge, when cheer on cheer arose, causing them to put
spurs to their horses and get quickly out of sight, notwithstanding
their threats to secure their prey, a thing they never attempted.
Statie died within two years after her escape; Col. Shepard long
kept the box in which she was brought off as the only “through car”
he had ever seen; Lila is still a resident of the Empire State, whilst
Mr. Barbour, having disposed of his real estate sought a clime more
congenial to his sense of justice and humanity.
 CHAPTER IX.
GEORGE GRAY.

I.

“M y deah chile, ’tis too bad.”

“Too bad, mother! I tell you I’s agoin’ to run away. Ole
Massa can’t whip dis chile no moah. I’d rather be shot or hab the
dogs tear me to pieces.”
“Hush, chile, hush! you’ll break your ole mudder’s heart, ’cause it’s
a’most done gone smashed afore, an’ now she knows you can neber,
neber, get across the big river an’ de great lake. I tell yer, chile, you
better stay wid ole mas’r if em do whip.”
“Mother, my mine is made up. Massa Jones hab whipped George
Gray for de las time. I hate to leave you, mother, but then I’s agoin’.
Some day de Massa’ll sell me as he did father an’ de res’ of us down
South, an’ then you shall see George no moah, an’ I’d hab no
blessed chance for ’scape, so now I’s goin’ for freedom or I’s goin’ to
die. I say ole massa can’t whip me no moah.”
“De will ob de Lor’ be done, chile; but how is you agoin’ to do it?”
“I’ll tell you mother, ole Massa’ll neber s’pec’ you. He’ll neber look
for George ’bout dis shanty. So I’s agoin’ down to de river an’ cross
down in de skiff, den I goes to de swamp an’ comes carefully back
an’ crawls under your bed. When Massa misses me, you can tell him
I’s runned away, an’ he’ll start the horses an’ the men for de swamp,
an’ for two or three days they’ll hunt for George there jus’ as they
did for Uncle Pete; den Massa’ll put me in de papers as a runaway
nigger, an’ then when all is ober heah I’s comin’ out an’ goin’ at de
river an’ cross de mountins till I gits to Canidy.”
“De bressed Lor’, an’ doan yer s’pec’ ole Massa’ll hunt dis shanty
frough an’ frough, chile?”
“Ole Massa’ll never s’pec’ you, mother; you’s been wid him too
long. He never whipped you, an’ when he comes in de mornin’, for
to inquire, you mus’ be prayin’; prayin’ for me that I may be
cotched.”
“Bress de Lor’, he mus’ ’ov put all dis in de head of de chile as he
put his son Moses in de bullrushes down dar in de lan’ of Canin.
Chile, your black ole mudder’ll cover you wid her bed like as the ole
black hen covers her chicks when de hawk comes to steal de little
ones from dar mudder’s lub. Now, chile, jus’ you fix it all up an’ de
Lor’ ob dat big feller, Sabot, yes dat was de man, be wid you, an’ it
doan matter bout dis ole woman no moah.”
The above conversation took place many years ago in a cabin in
the negro quarter of the plantation of Samuel Jones on the James
river, in Virginia. Mr. Jones was a thriving planter and an extensive
dealer in slaves. Though in some respects of the better class of
slave-breeders, he inherited many of the legitimate characteristics of
the peculiar institution. Towards the men slaves he was tyrannical in
the extreme, whilst eyeing the fairer and younger among the women
with an eye of lechery.
The plantation had come to him from his father, and with it the
family of John Gray consisting of himself and wife, known for miles
around as “Prayin’ Hanner,” and several children. The father and
older children, all having a slight tinge of the Caucassian about
them, Mr. Jones early sold to southern dealers, retaining only the
mother and her infant George.
The mother, on account of her acknowledged piety and ability to
labor, was assigned a special cabin and for years had done the
family laundry work and baking and discharged other duties of a
similar character. Resigned to her condition, she labored on year
after year, ever singing and praying and with her loyalty all
unquestioned. Not so with her growing boy, however. The white
blood that was in him, though limited, constantly rebelled against his
condition, and as his years advanced, brought on frequent conflicts
between him and his master, which invariably ended in the boy’s
being severely whipped. Though feeling for him, on such occasions,
as only a mother can feel, still Hannah Gray exhorted him to be
obedient and submissive. Whenever the master threatened to sell
him south, then it was that her prayers that one of her kin might be
left to her mightily prevailed. The natural adaptability of the youth
secured for him many privileges, and he had been with his master
several times to the national capital and other points and had picked
up much general intelligence, and his mode of expression had, to
some extent, risen above the plantation vernacular.
The conflict on this particular occasion had arisen between master
and slave because George had asked the privilege of visiting a young
quadroon of the plantation on whom Jones had fastened his
lecherous eyes. As usual the controversy ended in the young man’s
being bound to a post by some of the hands and then inhumanly
flogged by his owner. Stung to madness, when all were settled for
the night, he left his quarters and sought the cabin of his mother,
and there, as we have seen, divulged his determination to seek a
land of freedom. True to his purpose, when he had gained his
mother’s consent, he went down to the river and unloosing a skiff
floated down with the current some distance and then landing,
struck boldly across to a neighboring swamp. Entering this, he
passed on a short distance until he came to a small creek which led
directly to the river. He now divested himself of his clothing which he
safely placed upon his shoulders, and following the cove soon
reached the river into which he plunged, and being an expert
swimmer, was soon on the home side again, and making his way
quietly to his mother’s cabin, where he was safely secreted beneath
what he had augured an impregnable citadel, her bed.
 HANNAH PRAYING.

Morning came soon, and the hands sallied from their quarters but
with them came no George Gray. The word spread rapidly and soon
reached both the cabin of Prayin’ Hanner and the mansion that he
was missing. As soon as the proprietor could dress himself and make
proper inquiries, he hastened to the shanty of the mother whom he
found at her morning devotions, having begun them just as she saw
his approach. Not wishing to disturb her he stopped before the door
and caught these words of invocation:
“Bressed Lor’, dey say my poah, dear chile am gone. Am he
drown? may de Lor’ raise de body up dat dis ole black form may
follow in its sorrow to de grabe. Hab he killed hisself? may de Lor’
hab mercy on his soul, for Geog’ was a bad boy; he made mas’r
heaps o’ trouble. O Lor’, if he hab runned away, may mas’r cotch him
agin—not de houn’, but mas’r an’ de men, an’ den when mas’r Jones
whip him, may de bressed Lor’ sen’ down ole Lija, an’ ’vert his soul,
dat he no moah disrember mas’r but dat he do his will for his ole
mudder’s sake, an’ for de sake ob his good mas’r, an’ for de sake ob
dat heben whar de Lor’ is. Dis, Lor’, am de prayer of poah ole
Hanner, amen.”
The prayer ceased and the master entered, only to find, as he
inferred from it, that the intelligence of George’s departure had
preceded him, and farther that the boy had been in there the night
before and acted very strangely; that the mother had advised him to
go to his quarters and be a good boy.
Leaving the woman to her work, he went out and gave orders for
a search. Soon it was discovered that the skiff was gone and directly
after it was found half a mile down the river with footsteps leading
towards the swamp. A pack of hounds belonging on a plantation
below was sent for and search begun in earnest, and kept up
unceasingly for three days but without success, and then the hands
were called in. In the meantime there appeared in the Lynchburg
Herald the following:
$500.00 Reward.
“Run Away from the subscriber, George Gray, a negro,
nearly pure, about twenty-one years old, and weighing
one-hundred and fifty pounds. He talks pretty good
English. Five hundred dollars will be given for him
alive.” Samuel Jones.
Antwerp, Va., June 25, 1841.

During these days the cabin of Prayin’

Hanner was filled with sacred songs, earnest
prayers and sympathizing visitors, not one of
whom, white or black, as he listened to, or
participated in the devotions, supposed for one moment that he who
had called them all forth, that “deah chile,” was quietly drinking
them in. When the nights came, and everything was still, then
George emerged for a little time to rest and refresh himself.
 GEORGE GRAY’S ESCAPE.

Thus matters passed until the fourth night came. The sun set
amid gathering clouds. The returned hunters gathered in their
quarters, some of them to tell how earnestly they had sought to find
nothin’; others to depict their true loyalty to Mar’s Jones, and the
whites in their homes around, to swear vengeance on every nigger
caught fleeing. As the storm broke and the darkness became more
intense, George came forth. A little bundle of clothing, with three
days’ rations of food, had been carefully prepared for him. There
was an embrace, tender as though the participants had been free, a
“God bless you, Mother,” a “May de Lor’ still be wid yer as he hab
bin,” uttered as earnestly as though by cultured lips, and mother and
son parted, never to see each other again.
George Gray went forth fearlessly into the darkness. The country
he knew for miles around, and for weary hours he made his way
directly up the south bank of the James. Long after midnight the
moon arose, and seeking a fitting place, he crossed the river and
just as the first gray streakings of the dawn appeared, quietly
secreted himself in a jungle of bushes upon the mountain which
here comes down close to the river. The rain had obliterated all
traces of his course; he was thought to have gone in an opposite
direction four days before. Thus far his plans had worked admirably,
and feeling safe, he partook of his rations and lay down to a
refreshing sleep.
Night found him again in motion, and by the time morning came
he had made considerable progress. Again he rested and refreshed
himself, and quietly surveyed the prospect for the future. He knew
he was a long way from the Ohio; that much of the way was wild
and mountainous, and that wherever there were people the dangers
were greatest. His little stock of provisions would soon be gone, and
then the berries and fruits of the forest would be his almost sole
dependence, only occasionally he might go down to some
bondman’s cabin. With these facts before him he faltered not, but
pressed resolutely forward, only to find as he approached the river,
after weary weeks of vigil, that his master’s advertisement had
preceded him, and that base men were watching that they might
claim the reward. This news came to him from colored men whom
he occasionally contrived to see, for the great humanitarian
thoroughfare of the days ante bellum had its ramifications among
the mountains of Virginia, as well as its broader lines on freer soil,
though unlike those of the latter their officers were of somber hue.
Taken in charge by one of these, George was safely put across the
river one stormy night, and in care of a genuine “broad-brim
conductor” on a main trunk line, but not until his presence had been
scented by a pack of white bloodhounds all too anxious for the
recompence of reward, and whose unholy avarice was equalled only
by the wary alertness of the disciple of George Fox.
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