Caroline Taylor, and her two little children, were also from Norfolk, and came by boat.  Upon the whole, they were not less interesting than Rebecca Jones and her three little girls.  Although Caroline was not in her person half so stately, nor gave such promise of heroism as Rebecca—­for Caroline was rather small of stature—­yet she was more refined, and quite as intelligent as Rebecca, and represented considerably more of the Anglo-Saxon blood.  She was a mulatto, and her children were almost fair enough to pass for white—­probably they were quadroons, hardly any one would have suspected that they had only one quarter of colored blood in their veins.  For ten years Caroline had been in the habit of hiring her time at the rate of seventy-five dollars per year, with the exception of the last year, when her hire was raised to eighty-four dollars.  So anxious was she to have her older girl (eleven years old) at home with her, that she also hired her time by the year, for which she was compelled to pay twenty-four dollars.  As her younger child was not sufficiently grown to hire out for pay, she was permitted to have it at home with her on the conditions that she would feed, clothe and take good care of it, permitting no expense whatever to fall upon the master.

Judging from the appearance and manners of the children, their mother had, doubtless, been most faithful to them, for more handsome, well-behaved, intelligent and pleasing children could not easily be selected from either race or any station of life.  The younger, Mary by name, nine years of age, attracted very great attention, by the deep interest she manifested in a poor fugitive (whom she had never seen before), at the Philadelphia station, confined to the bed and suffering excruciating pain from wounds he had received whilst escaping.  Hours and hours together, during the two or three days of their sojourn, she spent of her own accord, by his bed-side, manifesting almost womanly sympathy in the most devoted and tender manner.  She thus, doubtless, unconsciously imparted to the sufferer a great deal of comfort.  Very many affecting incidents had come under the observation of the acting Committee, under various circumstances, but never before had they witnessed a sight more interesting, a scene more touching.

Caroline and her children were owned by Peter March, Esq., late of Norfolk, but at that time, he was living in New York, and was carrying on the iron business.  He came into possession of them through his wife, who was the daughter of Caroline’s former master, and almost the only heir left, in consequence of the terrible fever of the previous summer.  Caroline was living under the daily fear of being sold; this, together with the task of supporting herself and two children, made her burden very grievous.  Not a great while before her escape, her New York master had been on to Norfolk, expressly with a view of selling her, and asked two thousand dollars for her.  This, however, he failed to get, and was still awaiting an offer.