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XV KATHARINE E. COMAH
A
I
INCIDENTS
IN THE
LIFE OF A SLAVE GIRL,
SEVEN YEARS CONCEALED.
I.
CHILDHOOD.
I was born a slave ; but I never knew it till six years of happy childhood had passed away. My father was a carpenter, and considered so intelligent and skilful in his trade, that, when buildings out of the common line were to be erected, he was sent for from long distances, to be head workman. On condition of paying his mistress two hundred dollars a year, and supporting himself, he was allowed to work at his trade, and manage his own affairs. His strongest wish was to purchase his children ; but, though he several times offered his hard earnings for that pur- pose, he never succeeded. In complexion my parents were a light shade of brownish yellow, and were termed mulattoes. They lived together in a comfort- able home ; and, though we were all slaves, I was so fondly shielded that I never dreamed I was a piece
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12 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
of merchandise, trusted to them for safe keeping, and liable to be demanded of them at any moment. I had one brother, William, who was two years younger than myself — a bright, affectionate child. I had also a great treasure in my maternal grandmother, who was a remarkable woman in many respects. She was the daughter of a planter in South Carolina, who, at his death, left her mother and his three children free, with money to go to St. Augustine, where they had relatives. It was during the Eevolutionary War ; and they were captured on their passage, carried back, and sold to different purchasers. Such was the story my grandmother used to tell me ; but I do not remember all the particulars. She was a little girl when she was captured and sold to the keeper of a large hotel. I have often heard her tell how hard she fared during childhood. But as she grew older she evinced so much intelligence, and was so faithful, that her master and mistress could not help seeing it was for their interest to take care of such a valuable piece of prop- erty. She became an indispensable personage in the household, officiating in all capacities, from cook and wet nurse to seamstress. She was much praised for her cooking ; and her nice crackers became so famous in the neighborhood that many people were desirous of obtaining them. In consequence of numerous re- quests of this kind, she asked permission of her mis- tress to bake crackers at night, after all the household work was done ; and she obtained leave to do it, pro- vided she would clothe herself and her children from the profits. Upon these terms, after working hard all day for her mistress, she began her midnight bakings,
INCIDENTS
IN THE
LIFE OF A SLAVE GIRL.
WRITTEN BY HERSELF.
" Northerners know nothing at all about Slavery. They think it is perpetual bondage only. They have no conception of the depth of degradation involved in that word, Slavery ; if they had, they would never cease their efforts until so horrible a system was overthrown."
A "Woman of North Carolina.
"Rise up, ye women that are at easel Hear my voice, ye careless daughters! Give ear unto my speech."
Isaiah xxxii. 9.
EDITED BY L. MARIA CHILD.
BOSTON: PUBLISHED FOR THE AUTHOR. 1861.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1860, by L. MARIA CHILD. In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachw«tt».
STEREOTYPED AT THE BOSTON OlfikXOIIPE FOUNDRY.
Preface by the Author.
Reader, be assured this narrative is no fiction. I am aware that some of my adventures may seem in- credible; but they are, nevertheless, strictly true. I have not exaggerated the wrongs unnoted by Sla- very; on the contrary, my descriptions fall far short of the facts. I have concealed the names of places, and given persons fictitious names. I had no motive for secrecy on my own account, but I deemed it kind and considerate towards others to pursue this course.
I wish I were more competent to the task I have undertaken. But I trust my readers will excuse de- ficiencies in consideration of circumstances. I was born and reared in Slavery; and I remained in a Slave State twenty-seven years. Since I have been at the North, it has been necessary for me to work diligently for my own support, and the education of my children. This has not left me much leisure to make up for the loss of early opportunities to im- prove myself; and it has compelled me to write these pages at irregular intervals, whenever I could snatch an hour from household duties.
1* (5)
6 Preface by the Author.
When I first arrived in Philadelphia, Bishop Paine advised me to publish a sketch of my life, but I told him I was altogether incompetent to such an undertaking. Though I have improved my mind somewhat since that time, I still remain of the same opinion; but I trust my motives will excuse what might otherwise seem presumptuous. I have not written my experiences in order to attract attention to myself; on the contrary, it would have been more pleasant to me to have been silent about my own history. Neither do I care to excite sympathy for my own sufferings. But I do earnestly desire to arouse the women of the North to a realizing sense of the condition of two millions of women at the South, still in bondage, suffering what I suffered, and most of them far worse. I want to add my testimony to that of abler pens to convince the people of the Free States what Slavery really is. Only by experience can any one realize how deep, and dark, and foul is that pit of abominations. May the blessing of God rest on this imperfect effort in behalf of my perse- cuted people!
Linda Bkent.
Introduction by the Editor*
The author of the following autobiography is per- sonally known to me, and her conversation and man- ners inspire me with confidence. During the last seventeen years, she has lived the greater part of the time with a distinguished family in New York, and has so deported herself as to be highly esteemed by them. This fact is sufficient, without further cre- dentials of her character. I believe those who know her will not be disposed to doubt her veracity, though some incidents in her story are more ro- mantic than fiction.
At her request, I have revised her manuscript; but such changes as I have made have been mainly for purposes of condensation and orderly arrangement. I have not added any thing to the incidents, or changed the import of her very pertinent remarks. With trifling exceptions, both the ideas and the language are her own. I pruned excrescences a little, but otherwise I had no reason for changing her lively and dramatic way of telling her own story. The names of both persons and places are known to me; but for good reasons I suppress them.
It will naturally excite surprise that a woman reared in Slavery should be able to write so well. But cir-
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8
Introduction by the Editor.
cumstances will explain this. In the first place, na- ture endowed her with quick perceptions. Secondly, the mistress, with whom she lived till she was twelve years old, was a kind, considerate friend, who taught her to read and spell. Thirdly, she was placed in fa- vorable circumstances after she came to the North ; having frequent intercourse with intelligent persons, who felt a friendly interest in her welfare, and were disposed to give her opportunities for self-improvement.
I am well aware that many will accuse me of in- decorum for presenting these pages to the public; for the experiences of this intelligent and much-injured woman belong to a class which some call delicate subjects, and others indelicate. This peculiar phase of Slavery has generally been kept veiled; but the pub- lic ought to be made acquainted with its monstrous features, and I willingly take the responsibility of pre- senting them with the veil withdrawn. I do this for the sake of my sisters in bondage, who are suffering wrongs so foul, that our ears are too delicate to listen to them. I do it with the hope of arousing con- scientious and reflecting women at the North to a sense of their duty in the exertion of moral influ- ence on the question of Slavery, on all possible occa- sions. I do it with the hope that every man who reads this narrative will swear solemnly before God that, so far as he has power to prevent it, no fugi- tive from Slavery shall ever be sent back to suffer in that loathsome den of corruption and cruelty.
L. Maria Child.
Contents.
PAOB
Childhood • 11
The New Master and Mistress 17
The Slaves' New Year's Day 25
The Slave who dared to feel like a Man 28
The Trials of Girlhood 44
The Jealous Mistress 49
The Loyer 58
What Slayes are taught to think of the North. . . 67
Sketches of neighboring Slayeholders 71
A Perilous Passage in the Slaye Girl's Life 82
The new Tie to Life 90
Fear of Insurrection 97
The Church and Slayery 105
Another Link to Life 117
Continued Persecutions 122
Scenes at the Plantation 131
The Plight 145
Months of Peril 150
The Children Sold 160
New Perils 167
The Loophoie of Retreat 173
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lo Contents.
Christmas Festivities 179
Still in Prison 183
The Candidate for Congress 189
Competition in Cunning 193
Important Era in my Brother's Life 201
New Destination for the Children . 207
Aunt Nancy 217
Preparations for Escape 224
Northward Bound 237
Incidents in Philadelphia 242
The Meeting of Mother and Daughter 249
A Home Found 254
The Old Enemy again 258
Prejudice against Color 264
The Hair-breadth Escape 268
A Visit to England 275
Renewed Invitation to go South. • • , 279
The Confession 282
The Fugitive Slave Law • . . . 285
Free at Last 293
appendix. . 304
J, \';M
Childhood.
13
assisted by her two oldest children. The business proved profitable ; and each year she laid by a little, which was saved for a fund to purchase her children. Her master died, and the property was divided among his heirs. The widow had her dower in the hotel, which she continued to keep open. My grandmother remained in her service as a slave ; but her children were divided among her master's children. As she had five, Benjamin, the youngest one, was sold, in order that each heir might have an equal portion of dollars and cents. There was so little difference in our ages that he seemed more like my brother than my uncle. He was a bright, handsome lad, nearly white ; for he inherited the complexion my grand- mother had derived from Anglo-Saxon ancestors. Though only ten years old, seven hundred and twenty dollars were paid for him. His sale was a terrible blow to my grandmother ; but she was naturally hope- ful, and she went to work with renewed energy, trust- ing in time to be able to purchase some of her children. She had laid up three hundred dollars, which her mistress one day begged as a loan, promising to pay her soon. The reader probably knows that no promise or writing given to a slave is legally binding ; for, according to Southern laws, a slave, being property, can hold no property. When my grandmother lent her hard earnings to her mistress, she trusted solely to her honor. The honor of a slaveholder to a slave !
To this good grandmother I was indebted for many comforts. My brother Willie and I often received portions of the crackers, cakes, and preserves, she made to sell ; and after we ceased to be children wo
2
14 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
were indebted to her for many more important ser- vices.
Such were the unusually fortunate circumstances of my early childhood. When I was six years old, my mother died ; and then, for the first time, I learned, by the talk around me, that I was a slave. My mother's mistress was the daughter of my grandmother's mis- tress. She was the foster sister of my mother ; they were both nourished at my grandmother's breast. In fact, my mother had been weaned at three months old, that the babe of the mistress might obtain suffi- cient food. They played together as children ; and, when they became women, my mother was a most faithful servant to her whiter foster sister. On her death-bed her mistress promised that her children should never suffer for any thing ; and during her lifetime she kept her word. They all spoke kindly of my dead mother, who had been a slave merely in name, but in nature was noble and womanly. I grieved for her, and my young mind was troubled with the thought who would now take care of me and my little brother. I was told that my home was now to be with her mistress ; and I found it a happy one. No toilsome or disagreeable duties were imposed upon me. My mistress was so kind to me that I was always glad to do her bidding, and proud to labor for her as much as my young years would permit. I would sit by her side for hours, sewing diligently, with a heart as free from care as that of any free-born white child. When she thought I was tired, she would send me out to run and jump ; and away I bounded, to gather berries or flowers to decorate her room. Those were
Childhood.
15
happy days — too happy to last. The slave child had no thought for the morrow ; but there came that blight, which too surely waits on every human being born to be a chattel.
When I was nearly twelve years old, my kind mis- tress sickened and died. As I saw the cheek grow paler, and the eye more glassy, how earnestly I prayed in my heart that she might live ! I loved her ; for she had been almost like a mother to me. My prayers were not answered. She died, and they buried her in the little churchyard, where, day after day, my tears fell upon her grave.
I was sent to spend a week with my grandmother. I was now old enough to begin to think of the future ; and again and again I asked myself what they would do with me. I felt sure I should never find another mistress so kind as the one who was gone. She had promised my dying mother that her children should never suffer for any thing ; and when I remembered that, and recalled her many proofs of attachment to me, I could not help having some hopes that she had left me free. My friends were almost certain it would be so. They thought she would be sure to do it, on account of my mother's love and faithful service. But, alas ! we all know that the memory of a faithful slave does not avail much to save her children from the auction block.
After a brief period of suspense, the will of my mistress was read, and we learned that she had be- queathed me to her sister's daughter, a child of five years old. So vanished our hopes. My mistress had taught me the precepts of God's Word : " Thou shalt
16 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
love thy neighbor as thyself." " Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so unto them." But I was her slave, and I suppose she did not recognize me as her neighbor. I would give much to blot out from my memory that one great wrong. As a child, I loved my mistress ; and, looking back on the happy days I spent with her, I try to think with less bitterness of this act of injustice. While I was with her, she taught me to read and spell ; and for this privilege, which so rarely falls to the lot of a slave, I bless her memory.
She possessed but few slaves ; and at her death those were all distributed among her relatives. Five of them were my grandmother's children, and had shared the same milk that nourished her mother's children. Notwithstanding my grandmother's long and faithful service to her owners, not one of her chil- dren escaped the auction block. These God-breathing machines are no more, in the sight of their masters, than the cotton they plant, or the horses they tend.
The New Mafter and Miftress. 17
II.
THE NEW MASTER AND MISTRESS.
Dr. Flint, a physician in the neighborhood, had married the sister of my mistress, and I was now the property of their little daughter. It was not without murmuring that I prepared for my new home ; and what added to my unhappiness, was the fact that my brother William was purchased by the same family. My father, by his nature, as well as by the habit of transacting business as a skilful mechanic, had more of the feelings of a freeman than is common among slaves. My brother was a spirited boy; and being brought up under such influences, he early detested the name of master and mistress. One day, when his father and his mistress both happened to call him at the same time, he hesitated between the two ; being perplexed to know which had the strongest claim upon his obedience. He finally concluded to go to his mis- tress. When my father reproved him for it, he said, " You both called me, and I didn't know which I ought to go to first."
" You are my child," replied our father, " and when I call you, you should come immediately, if you have to pass through fire and water."
Poor Willie ! He was now to learn his first lesson of obedience to a master. Grandmother tried to cheer us with hopeful words, and they found an echo in the credulous hearts of youth.
When we entered our new home we encountered 2 *
18 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl*
cold looks, cold words, and cold treatment. We were glad when the night came. On my narrow bed I moaned and wept, I felt so desolate and alone.
I had been there nearly a year, when a dear little friend of mine was buried. I heard her mother sob, as the clods fell on the coffin of her only child, and I turned away from the grave, feeling thankful that I still had something left to love. I met my grand- mother, who said, " Come with me, Linda; " and from her tone I knew that something sad had happened. She led me apart from the people, and then said, " My child, your father is dead." Dead ! How could I believe it? He had died so suddenly I had not even heard that he was sick. I went home with my grandmother. My heart rebelled against God, who had taken from me mother, father, mistress, and friend. The good grandmother tried to comfort me. " Who knows the ways of God?" said she. "Perhaps they have been kindly taken from the evil days to come." Years afterwards I often thought of this. She promised to be a mother to her grandchildren, so far as she might be permitted to do so ; and strength- ened by her love, I returned to my master's. I thought I should be allowed to go to my father's house the next morning ; but I was ordered to go for flowers, that my mistress's house might be decorated for an evening party. I spent the day gathering flowers and weaving them into festoons, while the dead body of my father was lying within a mile of me. What cared my owners for that ? he was merely a piece of property. Moreover, they thought he had spoiled his children, by teaching them to feel that they were human beings.
The New Mafter and Miftress. 19
This was blasphemous doctrine for a slave to teach ; presumptuous in him, and dangerous to the masters.
The next day I followed his remains to a humble grave beside that of my dear mother. There were those who knew my father's worth, and respected his memory.
My home now seemed more dreary than ever. The laugh of the little slave-children sounded harsh and cruel. It was selfish to feel so about the joy of others. My brother moved about with a very grave face. I tried to comfort him, by saying, " Take courage, Willie ; brighter days will come by and by."
" You don't know any thing about it, Linda," he re- plied. " We shall have to stay here all our days ; we shall never be free."
I argued that we were growing older and stronger, and that perhaps we might, before long, be allowed to hire our own time, and then we could earn money to buy our freedom. William declared this was much easier to say than to do ; moreover, he did not intend to buy his freedom. We held daily controversies upon this subject.
Little attention was paid to the slaves' meals in Dr. Flint's house. If they could catch a bit of food while it was going, well and good. I gave myself no trouble on that score, for on my various errands I passed my grandmother's house, where there was always some- thing to spare for me. I was frequently threatened with punishment if I stopped there ; and my grand- mother, to avoid detaining me, often stood at the gate with something for my breakfast or dinner. I was in- debted to her for all my comforts, spiritual or temporal.
20 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
It was her labor that supplied my scanty wardrobe. I have a vivid recollection of the linsey-woolsey dress given me every winter by Mrs. Flint. How I hated it! It was one of the badges of slavery.
While my grandmother was thus helping to support me from her hard earnings, the three hundred dollars she had lent her mistress were never repaid. When her mistress died, her son-in-law, Dr. Flint, was ap- pointed executor. When grandmother applied to him for payment, he said the estate was insolvent, and the law prohibited payment. It did not, however, prohibit him from retaining the silver candelabra, which had been purchased with that money. I presume they will be handed down in the family, from generation to generation.
My grandmother's mistress had always promised her that, at her death, she should be free ; and it was said that in her will she made good the promise. But when the estate was settled, Dr. Flint told the faithful old servant that, under existing circumstances, it was necessary she should be sold.
On the appointed day, the customary advertisement was posted up, proclaiming that there would be a " public sale of negroes, horses, &c." Dr. Flint called to tell my grandmother that he was unwilling to wound her feelings by putting her up at auction, and that he would prefer to dispose of her at private sale. My grandmother saw through his hypocrisy ; she un- derstood very well that he was ashamed of the job. She was a very spirited woman, and if he was base enough to sell her, when her mistress intended she should be free, she was determined the public should
The New Mafter and Miftress.
21
know it. She had for a long time supplied many fam- ilies with crackers and preserves; consequently, "Aunt Marthy," as she was called, was generally known, and every body who knew her respected her intelligence and good character. Her long and faithful service in the family was also well known, and the intention of her mistress to leave her free. When the day of sale came, she took her place among the chattels, and at the first call she sprang upon the auction-block. Many voices called out, " Shame ! Shame ! Who is going to sell you, aunt Marthy ? Don't stand there ! That is no place for you" Without saying a word, she quietly awaited her fate. No one bid for her. At last, a feeble voice said, " Fifty dollars." It came from a maiden lady, seventy years old, the sister of my grandmother's deceased mistress. She had lived forty years under the same roof with my grandmother ; she knew how faithfully she had served her owners, and how cruelly she had been defrauded of her rights ; and she resolved to protect her. The auctioneer waited for a higher bid ; but her wishes were respected ; no one bid above her. She could neither read nor write ; and when the bill of sale was made out, she signed it with a cross. But what consequence was that, when she had a big heart overflowing with human kindness ? She gave the old servant her freedom.
At that time, my grandmother was just fifty years old. Laborious years had passed since then; and now my brother and I were slaves to the man who had defrauded her of her money, and tried to defraud her of her freedom. One of my mother's sisters, called Aunt Nancy, was also a slave in his family. She was a kind, good aunt to me ; and supplied the
22 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
place of both housekeeper and waiting maid to her mistress. She was, in fact, at the beginning and end of every thing.
Mrs. Flint, like many southern women, was totally deficient in energy. She had not strength to super- intend her household affairs ; but her nerves were so strong, that she could sit in her easy chair and see a woman whipped, till the blood trickled from every stroke of the lash. She was a member of the church ; but partaking of the Lord's supper did not seem to put her in a Christian frame of mind. If dinner was not served at the exact time on that particular Sunday, she would station herself in the kitchen, and wait till it was dished, and then spit in all the kettles and pans that had been used for cooking. She did this to prevent the cook and her children from eking out their meagre fare witli the remains of the gravy and other scrapings. The slaves could get nothing to eat except what she chose to give them. Provisions were weighed out by the pound and ounce, three times a day. I can assure you she gave them no chance to eat wheat bread from her flour barrel. She knew how many biscuits a quart of flour would make, and exactly what size they ought to be.
Dr. Flint was an epicure. The cook never sent a dinner to his table without fear and trembling ; for if there happened to be a disli not to his liking, he would either order her to be whipped, or compel her to eat every mouthful of it in his presence. The poor, hun- gry creature might not have objected to eating it ; but she did object to having her master cram it down her throat till she choked.
They had a pet dog, that was a nuisance in the house.
The New Mafter and Miftrefs. 23
The cook was ordered to make some Indian mush fur him. He refused to cat, and when his head was held over it,lhe froth flowed from his mouth into the basin. He died a few minutes after. When Dr. Flint came in, he said the mush had not been well cooked, and that was the reason the animal would not eat it. He sent for the cook, and compelled her to eat it. He thought that the woman's stomach was stronger than the dog's ; but her Bufferings afterwards proved that he was mistaken. This poor woman endured many cruel- ties from her master and mistress ; sometimes she was locked up, away from her nursing baby, for a whole day and night.
When I had been in the family a few weeks, one of the plantation slaves was brought to town, by order of his master. It was near night when he arrived, and Dr. Flint ordered him to be taken to the work house, and tied up to the joist, so that his feet would just escape the ground. In that situation he was to wait till the doctor had taken liis tea. I shall never forget that night. Never before, in my life, had I heard hundreds of blows fall, in succes- sion, on a human being. His piteous groans, and his "0, pray don't, massa," rang in my ear for months afterwards. There were many conjectures as to the cause of this terrible punishment. Some said master accused him of stealing corn ; others said the slave had quarrelled with his wife, in presence of the overseer, and had accused his master of being the father of her child. They were both black, and the child was very fair.
I went into the work house next morning, and saw the cowhide still wet with blood, and the boards all covered with gore. The poor man lived, and con- tinued to quarrel with his wife. A few months after-
24 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Gir.
wards Dr. Flint handed them both over to a slave- trader. The guifty man put their value into his pocket, and had the satisfaction of knowing tfeat they were out of sight and hearing. When the mother was delivered into the trader's hands, she said, " You promised to treat me well." To which he replied, " You have let your tongue run too far ; damn you ! 99 She had forgotten that it was a crime for a slave to tell who was the father of her child.
From others than the master persecution also comes in such cases. I once saw a young slave girl dying soon after the birth of a child nearly white. In her agony she cried out, " 0 Lord, come and take me ! " Her mistress stood by, and mocked at her like an incarnate fiend. " You suffer, do you ? " she ex- claimed. " I am glad of it. You deserve it all, and more too."
The girl's mother said, " The baby is dead, thank God ; and I hope my poor child will soon be in heaven, too."
" Heaven ! " retorted the mistress. " There is no such place for the like of her and her bastard."
The poor mother turned away, sobbing. Her dying daughter called her, feebly, and as she bent over her, I heard her say, " Don't grieve so, mother ; God knows all about it ; and he will have mercy upon me."
Her sufferings, afterwards, became so intense, that her mistress felt unable to stay ; but when she left the room, the scornful smile was still on her lips. Seven children called her mother. The poor black woman had but the one child, whose eyes she saw closing in dentil, while she thanked God for taking her away from the greater bitterness of life,
The Slaves' New Year's Day.
nr.
THE SLAVES1 NEW YEAR'S DAY.
Dr. Flint owned a fine residence in town, several farms, and about fifty slaves, besides hiring a number by the year.
Hiring-day at the south takes place on the 1st of January. On the 2d, the slaves are expected to go to their new masters. On a farm, they work until the corn and cotton arc laid. They then have two holi- days. Sonic masters give them a good dinner under the trees. This over, they work until Christmas eve. If no heavy charges are meantime brought against them, they are given four or live holidays, whichever the master or overseer may think proper. Then comes New Year's eve ; and they gather together their little alls, or more properly speaking, their little nothings, and wait anxiously for the dawning of day. At the appointed hour the grounds are thronged with men, women, and children, waiting, like criminals, to hear their doom pronounced. The slave is sure to know wiio is the most humane, or cruel master, within forty miles of him.
It is easy to find out, on that day, who clothes and feeds his slaves well ; for he is surrounded by a crowd, begging, " Please, massa, hire me this year. I will work very hard, massa."
If a slave is unwilling to go with his new master, he is whipped, or locked up in jail, until he consents to go, and promises not to run away during the year.
3
26 Incidents in the Life of a Skive Girl.
Should he chance to change his mind, thinking it jus- tifiable to violate an extorted promise, woe unto him if he is caught ! The whip is used till the blood flows at his feet ; and his stiffened limbs are put in chains, to be dragged in the field for days and days !
If he lives until the next year, perhaps the same man will hire him again, without even giving him an opportunity of going to the hiring-ground. After those for hire are disposed of, those for sale are called up.
0, you happy free women, contrast your New Year's day with that of the poor bond-woman ! With you it is a pleasant season, and the light of the day is blessed. Friendly wishes meet you every where, and gifts are showered upon you. Even hearts that have been estranged from you soften at this season, and lips that have been silent echo back, " I wish you a happy New Year." Children bring their little offer- ings, and raise their rosy lips for a caress. They are your own, and no hand but that of death can take them from you.
But to the slave mother New Year's day comes laden with peculiar sorrows. She sits on her cold cabin floor, watching the children who may all be torn from her the next morning ; and often does she wish that she and they might die before the day dawns. She may be an ignorant creature, degraded by the system that has brutalized her from childhood ; but she has a mother's instincts, and is capable of feeling a mother's agonies.
On one of these sale days, I saw a mother lead seven children to the auction-block. She knew that some of them would be taken from her ; but they took all. The
The: Slaves' New Year's Day.
27
children were sold to a slave-trader, and their mother was bought by a man in her own town. Before night her children were all far away. She begged the trader to tell her where he intended to take them ; this he refused to do. How could he, when he knew he would sell them, one by one, wherever he could command the highest price ? I met that mother in the street, and her wild, haggard face lives to-day in my mind. She wrung her hands in anguish, and exclaimed, " Gone ! All gone! Why don't God kill me?" I had no words wherewith to comfort her. Instances of this kind are of daily, yea, of hourly occurrence.
Slaveholders have a method, peculiar to their insti- tution, of getting rid of old slaves, whose lives have been worn out in their service. I knew an old woman, who for seventy years faithfully served her master. She had become almost helpless, from hard labor and disease. Her owners moved to Alabama, and the old black woman was left to be sold to any body who would give twenty dollars for her.
28 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
IV.
THE SLAVE WHO DARED TO FEEL LIKE A MAN.
Two years had passed since I entered Dr. Flint's family, and those years had brought much of the knowledge that comes from experience, though they had afforded little opportunity for any other kinds of knowledge.
My grandmother had, as much as possible, been a mother to her orphan grandchildren. By perse- verance and unwearied industry, she was now mistress of a snug little home, surrounded with the necessaries of life. She would have been happy could her chil- dren have shared them with her. There remained but three children and two grandchildren, all slaves. Most earnestly did she strive to make us feel that it was the will of God : that He had seen fit to place us under such circumstances ; and though it seemed hard, we ought to pray for contentment.
It was a beautiful faith, coming from a mother who could not call her children her own. But I, and Ben- jamin, her youngest boy, condemned it. We reasoned that it was much more the will of God that we should be situated as she was. We longed for a home like hers. There we always found sweet balsam for our troubles. She was so loving, so sympathizing ! She always met us with a smile, and listened with patience to all our sorrows. She spoke so hopefully, that un-
The Slave who Dared to Feel like a Man. 29
consciously the clouds gave place to sunshine. There was a grand hig oven there, too, that baked bread and nice things for the town, and we knew there was al- ways a choice bit in store for us.
But, alas ! even the charms of the old oven failed to reconcile us to our hard lot. Benjamin was now a tall, handsome lad, strongly and gracefully made, and with a spirit too bold and daring for a slave. My brother William, now twelve years old, had the same aversion to the word master that he had when he was an urchin of seven years. I was his confidant. He came to me with all his troubles. I remember one instance in particular. It was on a lovely spring morning, and when I marked the sunlight dancing here and there, its beauty seemed to mock my sadness. For my master, whose restless, craving, vicious nature roved about day and night, seeking whom to devour, had just left me, with stinging, scorching words ; words that scathed ear and brain like fire. 0, how I despised him ! I thought how glad I should be, if some day when he walked the earth, it would open and swallow him up, and disencumber the world of a plague.
When he told me that I was made for his use, made to obey his command in every thing ; that I was noth- ing but a slave, whose will must and should surrender to his, never before had my puny arm felt half so strong.
So deeply was I absorbed in painful reflections after- wards, that I neither saw nor heard the entrance of any one, till the voice of William sounded close beside me. " Linda," said he, " what makes you look so sad ?
3*
Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
I love you. 0, Linda, isn't this a bad world ? Every body seems so cross and unhappy. I wish I had died when poor father did."
I told him that every body was not cross, or un- happy ; that those who had pleasant homes, and kind friends, and who were not afraid to love them, were happy. But we, who were slave-children, without father or mother, could not expect to be happy. We must be good ; perhaps that would bring us content- ment.
" Yes," he said, " I try to be good ; but what's the use ? They are all the time troubling me." Then he proceeded to relate his afternoon's difficulty with young master Nicholas. It seemed that the brother of master Nicholas had pleased himself with making up stories about William. Master Nicholas said he should be flogged, and he would do it. Whereupon he went to work ; but William fought bravely, and the young master, finding he was getting the better of him, undertook to tie his hands behind him. He foiled in that likewise. By dint of kicking and fisting, William came out of the skirmish none the worse for a few scratches.
He continued to discourse on his young master's meanness ; how he whipped the little boys, but was a perfect coward when a tussle ensued between him and white boys of his own size. On such occasions he always took to his legs. William had other charges to make against him. One was his rubbing up pennies with quicksilver, and passing them off for quarters of a dollar on an old man who kept a fruit stall. William was often sent to buy fruit, and he earnestly inquired
The Slave who Dared to Feel like a Man. 31
of 111c what he ought to do under such circumstances. I told him it was certainly wrong to deceive the old man, and that it was his duty to tell him of the imposi- tions practised by his young master. I assured him the old man would not be slow to comprehend the whole, and there the matter would end. William thought it might with the old man, but not with him. He said lie did not mind the smart of the whip, but he did not like the idea of being whipped.
While I advised him to be good and forgiving I was not unconscious of the beam in my own eye. It was the very knowledge of my own shortcomings that urged me to retain, if possible, some sparks of my brother's God-given nature. I had not lived fourteen years in slavery for nothing. I had felt, seen, and heard enough, to read the characters, and question the motives, of those around me. The war of my life had begun ; and though one of God's most powerless crea- tures, I resolved never to be conquered. Alas, for me !
If there was one pure, sunny spot for me, I believed it to be in Benjamin's heart, and in another's, whom I loved with all the ardor of a girl's first love. My owner knew of it, and sought in every way to render me miserable. He did not resort to corporal punish- ment, but to all the petty, tyrannical ways that human ingenuity could devise.
I remember the first time I was punished. It was in the month of February. My grandmother had taken my old shoes, and replaced them with a new pair. I needed them ; for several inches of snow had fallen, and it still continued to fall. When I walked
32 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
through Mrs. Flint's room, their creaking grated harshly on her refined nerves. She called me to her, and asked what I had about me that made such a horrid noise. I told her it was my new shoes. " Take them off," said she ; " and if you put them on again, I'll throw them into the fire."
I took them off, and my stockings also. She then sent me a long distance, on an errand. As I went through the snow, my bare feet tingled. That night I was very hoarse ; and I went to bed thinking the next day would find me sick, perhaps dead. What was my grief on waking to find myself quite well !
I had imagined if I died, or was laid up for some time, that my mistress would feel a twinge of remorse that she had so hated " the little imp," as she styled me. It was my ignorance of that mistress that gave rise to such extravagant imaginings.
Dr. Flint occasionally had high prices offered for me ; but he always said, " She don't belong to me. She is my daughter's property, and I have no right to sell her." Good, honest man ! My young mistress was still a child, and I could look for no protection from her. I loved her, and she returned my affection. I once heard her father allude to her attachment to me ; and his wife promptly replied that it proceeded from fear. This put unpleasant doubts into my mind. Did the child feign what she did not feel ? or was her mother jealous of the mite of love she bestowed on me ? I concluded it must be the latter. I said to myself, " Surely, little children are true."
One afternoon I sat at my sewing, feeling unusual depression of spirits. My mistress had been accusing
The Slave who Dared to Feel like a Man. 33
me of an offence, of which I assured her I was per- fectly innocent ; but I saw, by the contemptuous curl of her lip, that she believed I was telling a lie.
I wondered for what wise purpose God was leading me through such thorny paths, and whether still darker days were in store for me. As I sat musing thus, the door opened softly, and William came in. " Well, brother," said I, " what is the matter this time ? "
"0 Linda, Ben and his master have had a dread- ful time ! " said he.
My first thought was that Benjamin was killed. " Don't be frightened, Linda," said AVilliam ; " I will tell you all about it."
It appeared that Benjamin's master had sent for him, and he did not immediately obey the summons. When he did, his master was angry, and began to whip him. He resisted. Master and slave fought, and finally the master was thrown. Benjamin had cause to tremble ; for he had thrown to the ground his master — one of the richest men in town. I anxiously awaited the result.
That night I stole to my grandmother's house, and Benjamin also stole thither from his master's. My grandmother had gone to spend a day or two with an old friend living in the country.
" I have come," said Benjamin, " to tell you good by. I am going away."
I inquired where.
" To the north," he replied.
I looked at him to see whether he was in earnest. I saw it all in his firm, set mouth. I implored him not
34 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
to go, but he paid no heed to my words. He said he was no longer a boy, and every day made his yoke more galling. He had raised his hand against his master, and was to be publicly whipped for the offence. I reminded him of the poverty and hardships he must encounter among strangers. I told him he might be caught and brought back ; and that was terrible to think of.
He grew vexed, and asked if poverty and hardships with freedom, were not preferable to our treatment in slavery. " Linda," he continued, " we are dogs here ; foot-balls, cattle, every thing that's mean. No, I will not stay. Let them bring me back. We don't die but once."
He was right ; but it was hard to give him up. " Go," said I, " and break your mother's heart."
I repented of my words ere they were out.
" Linda," said he, speaking as I had not heard him speak that evening, " how could you say that ? Poor mother ! be kind to her, Linda ; and you, too, cousin Fanny."
Cousin Fanny was a friend who had lived some years with us.
Farewells were exchanged, and the bright, kind boy, endeared to us by so many acts of love, vanished from our sight.
It is not necessary to state how he made his escape. Suffice it to say, he was on his way to New York when a violent storm overtook the vessel. The captain suid he must put into the nearest port. This alarmed Ben- jamin, who was aware that he would be advertised in every port near his own town. His embarrassment was
The Slave who Dared to Feel like a Man. 55
noticed by the captain. To port they went. There the advertisement met the captain's eye. Benjamin so exactly answered its description, that the captain laid hold on him, and bound him in chains. The storm passed, and they proceeded to New York. Before reaching that port Benjamin managed to get off his chains and throw them overboard. He escaped from the vessel, but was pursued, captured, and carried back to his master.
When my grandmother returned home and found her youngest child had fled, great was her sorrow; but, with characteristic piety, she said, " God's will be done." Each morning, she inquired if any news had been heard from her boy. Yes, news teas heard. The master was rejoicing over a letter, announcing the cap- ture of his human chattel.
That day seems but as yesterday, so well do I re- member it. I saw him led through the streets in chains, to jail. His face was ghastly pale, yet full of determination. He had begged one of the sailors to go to his mother's house and ask her not to meet him. He said the sight of her distress would take from him all self-control. She yearned to see him, and she went ; but she screened herself in the crowd, that it might be as her child had said.
We were not allowed to visit him; but we had known the jailer for years, and he was a kind-hearted man. At midnight he opened the jail door for my grandmother and myself to enter, in disguise. When we entered the cell not a sound broke the stillness. " Benjamin, Benjamin ! " whispered my grandmother. No answer. " Benjamin! " she again faltered. There
36 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
was a jingle of chains. The moon had just risen, and cast an uncertain light through the bars of the win- dow. We knelt down and took Benjamin's cold hands in ours. We did not speak. Sobs were heard, and Benjamin's lips were unsealed ; for his mother was weeping on his neck. How vividly does memory bring back that sad night ! Mother and son talked together. He asked her pardon for the suffering he had caused her. She said she had nothing to forgive ; she could not blame his desire for freedom. He told her that when he was captured, he broke away, and was about casting himself into the river, when thoughts of her came over him, and he desisted. She asked if he did not also think of God. I fancied I saw his face grow fierce in the moonlight. He answered, " No, I did not think of him. When a man is hunted like a wild beast he forgets there is a God, a heaven. He forgets every thing in his struggle to get beyond the reach of the bloodhounds."
" Don't talk so, Benjamin," said she. " Put your trust in God. Be humble, my child, and your master will forgive you."
" Forgive me for what, mother ? For not letting him treat me like a dog ? No ! I will never humble myself to him. I have worked for him for nothing all my life, and I am repaid with stripes and imprison- ment. Here I will stay till I die, or till he sells me."
The poor mother shuddered at his words. I think he felt it; for when he next spoke, his voice was calmer. " Don't fret about me, mother. I ain't worth it," said he. " I wish I had some of your goodness. You bear every thing patiently, just as though you thought it was all right. I wish I could."
The Slave who Dared to Feel like a Man. 37
She told him she had not always been so ; once, she was like him ; but when sore troubles came upon her, and she had no arm to lean upon, she learned to call on God, and he lightened her burdens. She besought him to do likewise.
We overstaid our time, and were obliged to hurry from the jail.
Benjamin had been imprisoned three weeks, when my grandmother went to intercede for him with his master. He was immovable. He said Benjamin should serve as an example to the rest of his skives ; he should be kept in jail till he was subdued, or be sold it* he got but one dollar for him. However, he afterwards relented in some degree. The chains were taken off, and we were allowed to visit him.
As his food was of the coarsest kind, we carried him as often as possible a warm supper, accompanied with some little luxury for the jailer.
Three months elapsed, and there was no prospect of release or of a purchaser. One day he was heard to sing and laugh. This piece of indecorum was told to his master, and the overseer was ordered to re-chain him. He was now confined in an apartment with other prisoners, who were covered with filthy rags. Benjamin was chained near them, and was soon covered with vermin. He worked at his chains till he suc- ceeded in getting out of them. He passed them through the bars of the window, with a request that they should be taken to his master, and he should be in- formed that he was covered with vermin.
This audacity was punished with heavier chains, and prohibition of our visits.
4
38 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
My grandmother continued to send him fresh changes of clothes. The old ones were burned up. The last night we saw him in jail his mother still begged him to send for his master, and beg his pardon. Neither persuasion nor argument could turn hin from his purpose. He calmly answered, " I am waiting his time."
Those chains were mournful to hear.
Another three months passed, and Benjamin left his prison walls. We that loved him waited to bid him a long and last farewell. A slave trader had bought him. You remember, I told you what price lie brought when ten years of age. Now he was more than twenty years old, and sold for three hundred dol- lars. The master had Been blind to his own interest. Long confinement had made his face too pale, his form to6 thin ; moreover, the trader had heard some- thing of his character, and it did not strike him as suitable for a slave. He said he would give any price if the handsome lad was a girl. AVe thanked God that he was not.
Could you have seen that mother clinging to her child, when they fastened the irons upon his wrists ; could you have heard her heart-rending groans, and seen her bloodshot eyes wander wildly from face to face, vainly pleading for mercy ; could you have wit- nessed that scene as I saw it, you would exclaim, Slavery is damnable !
Benjamin, her youngest, her pet, was forever gone ! She could not realize it. She had had an interview with the trader for the purpose of ascertaining if Benjamin could be purchased. She was told it was
The Slave who Dared to Feel like a Man. 39
impossible, as he had given bonds not to sell him till lie was out of the state. He promised that he would not sell him till he reached New Orleans.
With a strong arm and unvaried trust, my grand- mother began her work of love. Benjamin must be free. If she succeeded, she knew they would still be sepa- rated ; but the sacrifice was not too great. Day and night she labored. The trader's price would treble that he gave ; but she was not discouraged.
She employed a lawyer to write to a gentleman, whom she knew, in New Orleans. She begged him to interest himself for Benjamin, and he willingly favored her request. When he saw Benjamin, and stated his business, he thanked him; but said he preferred to wait a while before making the trader an offer. He knew he had tried to obtain a high price for him, and had invariably failed. This encouraged him to make another effort for freedom. So one morning, long be- fore day, Benjamin was missing. He was riding over the blue billows, bound for Baltimore.
For once his white face did him a kindly service. They had no suspicion that it belonged to a slave ; otherwise, the law would have been followed out to the letter, and the thing' rendered back to slavery. The brightest skies are often overshadowed by the dark- est clouds. Benjamin was taken sick, and compelled to remain in Baltimore three weeks. His strength was slow in returning; and his desire to continue his journey seemed to retard his recovery. How could he get strength without air and exercise ? He resolved to venture on a short walk. A by-street was selected, where he thought himself secure of not being met by
40 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
any one that knew him ; but a voice called out, " Halloo, Ben, iny boy ! what are you doing here ? "
His first impulse was to run ; but his legs trembled so that he could not stir. He turned to confront his antagonist, and behold, there stood his old master's next door neighbor ! He thought it was all over with him now ; but it proved otherwise. That man was a miracle. . He possessed a goodly number of slaves, and yet was not quite deaf to that mystic clock, whose ticking is rarely heard in the slaveholder's breast.
" Ben, you are sick," said he. " Why, you look like a ghost. I guess I gave you something of a start. Never mind, Ben, I am not going to touch you. You had a pretty tough time of it, and you may go on your way rejoicing for all me. But I would advise you to get out of this place plaguy quick, for there are several gentlemen here from our town." He de- scribed the nearest and safest route to New York, and added, " I shall be glad to tell your mother I have seen you. Good by, Ben."
Benjamin turned away, filled with gratitude, and surprised that the town he hated contained such a gem — a gem worthy of a purer setting.
This gentleman was a Northerner by birth, and had married a southern lady. On his return, he told my grandmother that he had seen her son, and of the ser- vice he had rendered him.
Benjamin reached New York safely, and concluded to stop there until he had gained strength enough to proceed further. It happened that my grandmother's only remaining son had sailed for the same city on business for his mistress. Through God's providence,
The Slave who Dared to Feel like a Man. 41
the brothers met. You may be sure it was a happy meeting. " 0 Phil," exclaimed Benjamin, " I am here at last." Then lie told him how near lie came to dying, almost in sight of free land, and how he prayed that he might live to get one breath of free air. He said life was worth something now, and it would be hard to die. In the old jail he had not valued it ; once, he was tempted to destroy it ; but something, he did not know what, had prevented him; perhaps it was fear. He had heard those who profess to be re- ligious declare there was no heaven for self-murderers ; and as his life had been pretty hot here, he did not de- sire a continuation of the same in another world. 66 If I die now," he exclaimed, " thank God, I shall die a freeman! "
He begged my uncle Phillip not to return south ; but stay and work with him, till they earned enough to buy those at home. His brother told him it would kill their mother if he deserted her in her trouble. She had pledged her house, and with difficulty had raised money to buy him. Would he be bought ?
" No, never ! " he replied. " Do you suppose, Phil, when I have got so far out of their clutches, I will give them one red cent ? No ! And do you suppose I would turn mother out of her home in her old age ? That I would let her pay all those hard-earned dollars for me, and never to see me ? For you know she will stay south as long as her other children are slaves. What a good mother ! Tell her to buy you, Phil. You have been a comfort to her, and I have been a trouble. And Linda, poor Linda ; what'll become of her ? Phil, you don't know what a life they lead her. She has told
4 *
42 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
me something about it, and I wish old Flint was dead, or a better man. When I was in jail, he asked her if she didn't want him to ask my master to forgive me, and take me home again. She told him, No ; that I didn't want to go baek. He got mad, and said we were all alike. I never despised my own master half as much as I do that man. There is many a worse slaveholder than my master ; but for all that I wTould not be his slave."
While Benjamin was sick, he had parted with nearly all his clothes to pay necessary expenses. But he did not part with a little pin I fastened in his bosom when we parted. It was the most valuable thing I owned, and I thought none more worthy to wear it. He had it still.
His brother furnished him with clothes, and gave him what money he had.
They parted with moistened eyes ; and as Benjamin turned away, he said, " Phil, 1 part with all my kin- dred." And so it proved. AVe never heard from him again.
Uncle Phillip came home ; and the first words he uttered when he entered the house were, " Mother, Ben is free ! I have seen him in New York." She stood looking at him with a bewildered air. " Mother, don't you believe it ? " he said, laying his hand softly upon her shoulder. She raised her hands, and ex- claimed, " God be praised ! Let us thank him." She dropped on her knees, and poured forth her heart in prayer. Then Phillip must sit down and repeat to her every word Benjamin had said. He told her all; only he forbore to mention how sick and pale her darling
The Slave who Dared to Feel like a Man. 43
looked. Why should he distress her when she could do him no good ?
The brave old woman still toiled on, hoping to res- cue some of her other children. After a while she succeeded in buying Phillip. She paid eight hundred dollars, and came home with the precious document that secured his freedom. The happy mother and son sat together by the old hearthstone that night, telling how proud they were of each other, and how they would prove to the world that they could take care of themselves, as they had long taken care of others. Wo all concluded by saying, u lie that is willing to be a slave, let him be a slave.''
44 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
V.
THE TRIALS OF GIRLHOOD.
During the first years of my service in Dr. Flint's family, I was accustomed to share some indulgences with the children of my mistress. Though this seemed to me no more than right, I was grateful for it, and tried to merit the kindness by the faithful discharge of my duties. But I now entered on my fifteenth year — a sad epoch in the life of a slave girl. My master began to whisper foul words in my ear. Young as I was, I could not remain ignorant of their import. I tried to treat them with indifference or contempt. The master's age, my extreme youth, and the fear that his conduct would be reported to my grandmother, made him bear this treatment for many months. He was a crafty man, and resorted to many means to accomplish his purposes. Sometimes he had stormy, terrific ways, that made his victims tremble ; some- times he assumed a gentleness that he thought must surely subdue. Of the two, I preferred his stormy moods, although they left me trembling. He tried his utmost to corrupt the pure principles my grandmother had instilled. He peopled my young mind with un- clean images, such as only a vile monster could think of. I turned from him with disgust and hatred. But he was my master. I was compelled to live under the same roof with him — where I saw a man forty years my senior daily violating the most sacred command-
The Trials of Girlhood.
45
ments of nature. lie told me I was his property ; that I must be subject to his will in all tilings. My soul revolted against the mean tyranny. But where could I turn for protection ? No matter whether the slave girl be as black as ebony or as fair as her mis- tress. In cither case, there is no shadow of law to protect her from insult, from violence, or even from death ; all these are inflicted by fiends who bear the shape of men. The mistress, who ought to protect the helpless victim, has no other feelings towards her but those of jealousy and rage. The degradation, the wrongs, the vices, that grow out of slavery, are more than I can describe. They are greater than you would willingly believe. Surely, if you credited one half the truths that are told you concerning the helpless mil- lions suffering in this cruel bondage, you at the north would not help to tighten the yoke. You surely would refuse to do for the master, on your own soil, the mean and cruel work which trained bloodhounds and the lowest class of whites do for him at the south.
Every where the years bring to all enough of sin and sorrow ; but in slavery the very dawn of life is darkened by these shadows. Even the little child, who is accustomed to wait on her mistress and her children, will learn, before she is twelve years old, why it is that her mistress hates such and such a one among the slaves. Perhaps the child's own mother is among those hated ones. She listens to violent outbreaks of jealous passion, and cannot help under- standing what is the cause. She will become prema- turely knowing in evil things. Soon she will learn to tremble when she hears her master's footfall. She
46 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
will be compelled to realize that she is no longer a child. If God has bestowed beauty upon her, it will prove her greatest curse. That which commands ad- miration in the white woman only hastens the degra- dation of the female slave. I know that some are too much brutalized by slavery to feel the humiliation of their position ; but many slaves feel it most acutely, and shrink from the memory of it. I cannot tell how much I suffered in the presence of these wrongs, nor how I am still pained by the retrospect. My master met me at every turn, reminding me that I belonged to him, and swearing by heaven and earth that he would compel me to submit to him. If I went out for a breath of fresh air, after a day of unwearied toil, his footsteps dogged me. If I knelt by my mother's grave, his dark shadow fell on me even there. The light heart which nature had given me became heavy with sad forebodings. The other slaves in my master's house noticed the change. Many of them pitied me ; but none dared to ask the cause. They had no need to inquire. They knew too well the guilty practices under that roof ; and they were aware that to speak of them was an offence that never went unpunished.
I longed for some one to confide in. I would have given the world to have laid my head on my grand- mother's faithful bosom, and told her all my troubles. But Dr. Flint swore he would kill me, if I was not as silent as the grave. Then, although my grandmother was all in all to me, I feared her as well as loved her. I had been accustomed to look up to her with a re- spect bordering upon awe. I was very young, and felt shamefaced about telling her such impure things,
The Trials of Girlhood.
47
especially as I knew her to be very strict on such sub- jects. Moreover, she was a woman of a high spirit. She was usually very quiet in her demeanor ; but if her indignation was once roused, it was not very easily quelled. I had been told that she once chased a white gentleman with a loaded pistol, because he insulted one of her daughters. I dreaded the conse- quences of a violent outbreak ; and both pride and fear kept me silent. But though I did not confide in my grandmother, and even evaded her vigilant watch- fulness and inquiry, her presence in the neighborhood was some protection to me. Though she had been a slave, Dr. Flint was afraid of her. He dreaded her scorching rebukes. Moreover, she was known and patronized by many people ; and he did not wish to have his villany made public. It was lucky for me that I did not live on a distant plantation, but in a town not so large that the inhabitants were ignorant of each other's affairs. Bad as are the laws and cus- toms in a slaveholding community, the doctor, as a professional man, deemed it prudent to keep up some outward show of decency.
0, what days and nights of fear and sorrow that man caused me ! Reader, it is not to awaken sym- pathy for myself that I am telling you truthfully what I suffered in slavery. I do it to kindle a flame of compassion in your hearts for my sisters who are still in bondage, suffering as I once suffered.
I once saw two beautiful children playing together, One was a fair white child ; the other was her slave, and also her sister. When I saw them embracing each other, and heard their joyous laughter, I turned
48 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
sadly away from the lovely sight. I foresaw the inev- itable blight that would fall on the little slave's heart. I knew how soon her laughter would be changed to sighs. The fair child grew up to be a still fairer woman. Prom childhood to womanhood her pathway was blooming with flowers, and Overarched by a sunny sky. Scarcely one day of her life had been clouded when the sun rose on her happy bridal morning.
How had those years dealt with her slave sister, the little playmate of her childhood ? She, also, was very beautiful ; but the flowers and sunshine of love were not for her. She drank the cup of sin, and shame, and misery, whereof her persecuted race are com- pelled to drink.
In view of these things, why are ye silent, ye free men and women of the north ? Why do your tongues falter in maintenance of the right? Would that I had more ability ! But my heart is so full, and my pen is so weak ! There are noble men and women who plead for us, striving to help those who cannot help themselves. God bless them ! God give them strength and courage to go on ! God bless those, every where, who are laboring to advance the cause of humanity !
The Jealous Miftrefs.
49
VI.
THE JEALOUS MISTRESS.
I would ten thousand times rather that my children should be the half-starved paupers of Ireland than to be the most pampered among the slaves of America. I would rather drudge out my life on a cotton planta- tion, till the grave opened to give me rest, than to live with an unprincipled master and a jealous mistress. The felon's home in a penitentiary is preferable. He may repent, and turn from the error of his ways, and so find peace ; but it is not so with a favorite slave. She is not allowed to have any pride of character. It is deemed a crime in her to wish to be virtuous.
Mrs. Flint possessed the key to her husband's char- acter before I was born. She might have used this knowledge to counsel and to screen the young and the innocent among her slaves ; but for them she had no sympathy. They were the objects of her constant sus- picion and malevolence. She watched her husband with unceasing vigilance ; but he was well practised in means to evade it. What he could not find opportu- nity to say in words he manifested in signs. He in- vented more than were ever thought of in a deaf and dumb asylum. I let them pass, as if I did not under- stand what he meant ; and many were the curses and threats bestowed on me for my stupidity. One day he caught me teaching myself to write. He frowned, as if he was not well pleased ; but I suppose he came to
5
£0 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
the conclusion that such an accomplishment might help to advance his favorite scheme. Before long, notes were often slipped into my hand. I would re- turn them, saying, " I can't read them, sir." " Can't you ? " he replied ; " then I must read them to you." He always finished the reading by asking, " Do you understand? " Sometimes he would complain of the heat of the tea room, and order his supper to be placed on a small table in the piazza. He would seat himself there with a well-satisfied smile, and tell me to stand by and brush away the flies. He would eat very slowly, pausing between the mouthfuls. These inter- vals were employed in describing the happiness I was so foolishly throwing away, and in threatening me with the penalty that finally awaited my stubborn dis- obedience. He boasted much of the forbearance he had exercised towards me, and reminded me that there was a limit to his patience. When I succeeded in avoiding opportunities for him to talk to me at home, I was ordered to come to his office, to do some errand. When there, I was obliged to stand and listen to such language as he saw fit to address to me. Sometimes I so openly expressed my contempt for him that he would become violently enraged, and I wondered why he did not strike me. Circumstanced as he was, he probably thought it was better policy to be forbearing. But the state of things grew worse and worse daily. In desperation I told him that I must and would apply to my grandmother for protection. He threatened me with death, and worse than death, if I made any com- plaint to her. Strange to say, I did not despair. I was naturally of a buoyant disposition, and always I
The Jealous Mistrefs.
had a hope of somehow getting out of his clutches. Like many a poor, simple slave before me, I trusted that some threads of joy would yet be woven into my dark destiny.
I had entered my sixteenth year, and every day it became more apparent that my presence was intoler- able to Mrs. Flint. Angry words frequently passed between her and her husband. He had never punished me himself, and he would not allow any body else to punish me. In that respect, she was never satisfied ; but, in her angry moods, no terms were too vile for her to bestow upon me. Yet I, whom she detested so bitterly, had far more pity for her than he had, whose duty it was to make her life happy. I never wronged her, or wished to wrong her ; and one word of kind- ness from her would have brought me to her feet- After repeated quarrels between the doctor and his wife, he announced his intention to take his youngest daughter, then four years old, to sleep in his apart- ment. It was necessary that a servant should sleep in the same room, to be on hand if the child stirred. I was selected for that office, and informed for what purpose that arrangement had been made. By man- aging to keep within sight of people, as much as pos- sible, during the daytime, I had hitherto succeeded in eluding my master, though a razor was often held to my throat to force me to change this line of policy. At night I slept by the side of my great aunt, where I felt safe. He was too prudent to come into her room. She was an old woman, and had been in the family many years. Moreover, as a married man, and a pro- fessional man, he deemed it necessary to save appear-
52 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
ances in some degree. But he resolved to remove the obstacle in the way of his scheme ; and he thought he had planned it so that he should evade suspicion. He was well aware how much I prized my refuge by the side of my old aunt, and he determined to dispossess me of it. The first night the doctor had the little child in his room alone. The next morning, I was ordered to take my station as nurse the following night. A kind Providence interposed in my favor. During the day Mrs. Flint heard of this new arrange- ment, and a storm followed. I rejoiced to hear it rage.
After a while my mistress sent for me to come to her room. Her first question was, " Did you know you were to sleep in the doctor's room ? 99
" Yes, ma'am."
" Who told you ? "
" My master."
" Will you answer truly all the questions I ask ? " " Yes, ma'am."
" Tell me, then, as you hope to be forgiven, are you innocent of what I have accused you ? " "I am."
She handed me a Bible, and said, " Lay your hand on your heart, kiss this holy book, and swear before God that you tell me the truth.77
I took the oath she required, and I did it with a clear conscience.
" You have taken God's holy word to testify your innocence,77 said she. " If you have deceived me, be- ware ! Now take this stool, sit down, look me directly in the face, and tell me all that has passed between your master and you.77
The Jealous Mistrefs.
53
1 did as she ordered. As I went on with my ac- count her color changed frequently, she wept, and sometimes groaned. She spoke in tones so sad, that I was touched by her grief. The tears came to my eyes ; but I was soon convinced that her emotions arose from anger and wounded pride. She felt that her marriage vows were desecrated, her dignity in- sulted ; but she had no compassion for the poor vic- tim of her husband's perfidy. She pitied herself as a martyr ; but she was incapable of feeling for the condition of shame and misery in which her unfor- tunate, helpless slave was placed.
Yet perhaps she had some touch of feeling for me ; for when the conference was ended, she spoke kindly, and promised to protect me. I should have been much comforted by this assurance if I could have had confidence in it ; but my experiences in slavery had filled me with distrust. She was not a very refined woman, and had not much control over her passions. I was an object of her jealousy, and, consequently, of her hatred ; and I knew I could not expect kindness or confidence from her under the circumstances in which I was placed. I could not blame her. Slave- holders' wives feel as other women would under sim- ilar circumstances. The fire of her temper kindled from small sparks, and now the flame became so in- tense that the doctor was obliged to give up his intended arrangement.
I knew I had ignited the torch, and I expected to suffer for it afterwards ; but I felt too thankful to my mistress for the timely aid she rendered me to care much about that. She now took me to sleep in a
5*
54 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
room adjoining her own. There I was an object of her especial care, though not of her especial comfort, for she spent many a sleepless night to watch over me. Sometimes I woke up, and found her bending over me. At other times she whispered in my ear, as though it was her husband who was speaking to me, and listened to hear what I would answer. If she startled me, on such occasions, she would glide stealth- ily away ; and the next morning she would tell me I had been talking in my sleep, and ask who I was talk- ing to. At last, I began to be fearful for my life. It had been often threatened; and you can imagine, bet- ter than I can describe, what an unpleasant sensation it must produce to wake up in the dead of night and find a jealous woman bending over you. Terrible as this experience was, I had fears that it would give place to one more terrible.
My mistress grew weary of her vigils ; they did not prove satisfactory. She changed her tactics. She now tried the trick of accusing my master of crime, in my presence, and gave my name as the author of the accusation. To my utter astonishment, he replied, " I don't believe it ; but if she did acknowledge it, you tortured her into exposing me." Tortured into expos- ing him! Truly, Satan had no difficulty in distin- guishing the color of his soul ! I understood his object in making this false representation. It was to show me that I gained nothing by seeking the protec- tion of my mistress ; that the power was still all in his own hands. I pitied Mrs. Flint. She was a second wife, many years the junior of her husband ; and the hoary-headed miscreant was enough to try the patience
The Jealous Mistrefs.
55
of a wiser and better woman. She was completely foiled, and knew not how to proceed. She would gladly have had me flogged for my supposed false oatli ; but, as I have already stated, the doctor never allowed any one to whip me. The old sinner was politic. The application of the lash might have led to remarks that would have exposed him in the eyes of his children and grandchildren. How often did I re- joice that I lived in a town where all the inhabitants knew each other ! If I had been on a remote planta- tion, or lost among the multitude of a crowded city, I should not be a living woman at this day.
The secrets of slavery are concealed like those of the Inquisition. My master was, to my knowledge, the father of eleven slaves. But did the mothers dare to tell who was the father of their children ? Did the other slaves dare to allude to it, except in whispers among themselves ? No, indeed ! They knew too well the terrible consequences.
My grandmother could not avoid seeing things which excited her suspicions. She was uneasy about me, and tried various ways to buy me ; but the never- changing answer was always repeated : " Linda does not belong to me. She is my daughter's property, and I have no legal right to sell her." The conscientious man ! He was too scrupulous to sell me ; but he had no scruples whatever about committing a much greater wrong against the helpless young girl placed under his guardianship, as his daughter's property. Sometimes my persecutor would ask me whether I would like to be sold. I told him I would rather be sold to any body than to lead such a life as I did. On such occa-
56 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
sions he would assume the air of a very injured individual, and reproach me for my ingratitude. " Did I not take you into the house, and make you the companion of my own children ? " he would say. " Have I ever treated you like a negro ? I have never allowed you to be punished, not even to please your mistress. And this is the recompense I get, you un- grateful girl ! " I answered that he had reasons of his own for screening me from punishment, and that the course he pursued made my mistress hate me and per- secute me. If I wept, he would say, " Poor child ! Don't cry ! don't cry ! I will make peace for you with your mistress. Only let me arrange matters in my own way. Poor, foolish girl ! you don't know what is for your own good. I would cherish you. I would make a lady of you. Now go, and think of all I have promised you." I did think of it.
Reader, I draw no imaginary pictures of southern homes. I am telling you the plain truth. Yet when victims make their escape from this wild beast of Slavery, northerners consent to act the part of blood- hounds, and hunt the poor fugitive back into his den, " full of dead men's bones, and all uncleanness." Nay, more, they are not only willing, but proud, to give their daughters in marriage to slaveholders. The poor girls have romantic notions of a sunny clime, and of the flowering vines that all the year round shade a happy home. To what disappointments are they des- tined ! The young wife soon learns that the husband in whose hands she has placed her happiness pays no regard to his marriage vows. Children of every shade
The Jealous Mistrefs.
57
of complexion play with her own fair babies, and too well she knows that they are born unto him of his own household. Jealousy and hatred enter the flowery home, and it is ravaged of its loveliness.
Southern women often marry a man knowing that he is the father of many little slaves. They do not trouble themselves about it. They regard such chil- dren as property, as marketable as the pigs on the plantation ; and it is seldom that they do not make them aware of this by passing them into the slave- trader's hands as soon as possible, and thus getting them out of their sight. I am glad to say there are some honorable exceptions.
I have myself known two southern wives who ex- horted their husbands to free those slaves towards whom they stood in a " parental relation ; " and their request was granted. These husbands blushed before the superior nobleness of their wives' natures. Though they had only counselled them to do that which it was their duty to do, it commanded their respect, and ren- dered their conduct more exemplary. Concealment was at an end, and confidence took the place of dis- trust.
Though this bad institution deadens the moral sense, even in white women, to a fearful extent, it is not alto- gether extinct. I have heard southern ladies say of Mr. Such a one, u He not only thinks it no disgrace to be the father of those little niggers, but he is not ashamed to call himself their master. I declare, such things ought not to be tolerated in any decent so- ciety ! "
58 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
VII.
THE LOVER.
Why does the slave ever love ? Why allow the ten- drils of the heart to twine around objects which may at any moment be wrenched away by the hand of vio- lence ? When separations come by the hand of death, the pious soul can bow in resignation, and say, "Not my will, but thine be done, 0 Lord ! " But when the ruthless hand of man strikes the blow, regardless of . the misery he causes, it is hard to be submissive. I did not reason thus when I was a young girl. Youth will be youth. I loved, and I indulged the hope that the dark clouds around me would turn out a bright lining. I forgot that in the land of my birth the shadows are too dense for light to penetrate. A land
" Where laughter is not mirth ; nor thought the mind ; Nor words a language ; nor e'en men mankind. AYhere cries repjy to curses, shrieks to blows, And each is tortured in his separate hell."
There was in the neighborhood a young colored car- penter ; a free born man. We had been well ac- quainted in childhood, and frequently met together afterwards. We became mutually attached, and lie proposed to marry me. I loved him with all the ardor of a young girl's first love. But when I reflected that I was a slave, and that the laws gave no sanction to the marriage ,of such, my heart sank within me. My lover wanted to buy me ; but I knew that Dr. Flint
The Lover.
59
was too wilful and arbitrary a man to consent to that arrangement. From him, I was sure of experiencing all sorts of opposition, and I had nothing to hope from my mistress. She would have been delighted to have got rid of me, but not in that way. It would have relieved her mind of a burden if she could have seen me sold to some distant state, but if I was married near home I should be just as much in her husband's power as I had previously been, — for the husband of a slave has no power to protect her. Moreover, my mis- tress, like many others, seemed to think that slaves had no right to any family ties of their own ; that they were created merely to wait upon the family of the mistress. I once heard her abuse a young slave girl, who told her that a colored man wanted to make her his wife. " I will have you peeled and pickled, my lady," said she, " if I ever hear you mention that sub- ject again. Do you suppose that I will have you tend- ing my children with the children of that nigger ? " The girl to whom she said this had a mulatto child, of course not acknowledged by its father. The poor black man who loved her would have been proud to acknowledge his helpless offspring.
Many and anxious were the thoughts I revolved in my mind. I was at a loss what to do. Above all things, I was desirous to spare my lover the insults that had cut so deeply into my own soul. I talked with my grandmother about it, and partly told her my fears. I did not dare to tell her the worst. She had long suspected all was not right, and if I confirmed her sus- picions I knew a storm would rise that would prove the overthrow of all my hopes.
60 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
This love-dream had been my support through many trials ; and I could not bear to run the risk of having it suddenly dissipated. There was a lady in the neigh- borhood, a particular friend of Dr. Flint's, who often visited the house. I had a great respect for her, and she had always manifested a friendly interest in me. Grandmother thought she would have great influence with the doctor. I went to this lady, and told her my story. I told her I was aware that my lover's being a free-born man would prove a great objection ; but he wanted to buy me ; and if Dr. Flint would consent to that arrangement, I felt sure he would be willing to pay any reasonable price. She knew that Mrs. Flint disliked me ; therefore, I ventured to suggest that per- haps my mistress would approve of my being sold, as that would rid her of me. The lady listened with kindly sympathy, and promised to do her utmost to promote my wishes. She had an interview with the doctor, and I believe she pleaded my cause earnestly ; but it was all to no purpose.
How I dreaded my master now ! Every minute I expected to be summoned to his presence ; but the day passed, and I heard nothing from him. The next morning, a message was brought to me : " Master wants you in his study." I found the door ajar, and I stood a moment gazing at the hateful man who claimed a right to rule me, body and soul. I entered, and tried to appear calm. I did not want him to know how my heart was bleeding. He looked fixedly at me, with an expression which seemed to say, u I have half a mind to kill you on the spot." At last he broke the silence, and that was a relief to both of us.
The Lover.
61
" So )rou want to be married, do you ? " said he, " and to a free nigger." " Yes, sir."
" Well, I'll soon convince you whether I am your master, or the nigger fellow you honor so highly. If you must have a husband, you may take up with one of my slaves."
What a situation I should be in, as the wife of one of his slaves, even if my heart had been interested !
I replied, " Don't you suppose, sir, that a slave can have some preference about marrying ? Do you sup- pose that all men are alike to her ? "
" Do you love this nigger ? " said he, abruptly.
" Yes, sir."
" How dare you tell me so ! " he exclaimed, in great wrath. After a slight pause, he added, " I supposed you thought more of yourself ; that you felt above the insults of such puppies."
" I replied, " If he is a puppy I am a puppy, for we are both of the negro race. It is right and honor- able for us to love each other. The man you call a puppy never insulted me, sir ; and he would not love me if he did not believe me to be a virtuous woman."
He sprang upon me like a tiger, and gave me a stunning blow. It was the first time he had ever struck me ; and fear did not enable me to control my anger. When I had recovered a little from the effects, I exclaimed, " You have struck me for answering you honestly. How I despise you ! "
There was silence for some minutes. Perhaps he was deciding what should be my punishment ; or, per- haps, he wanted to give me time to reflect on what I
6
62 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
had said, and to whom I had said it. Finally, he asked, " Do you know what you have said ? "
" Yes, sir ; but your treatment drove me to it."
" Do you know that I have a right to do as I like with you, — that I can kill you, if I please ? "
" You have tried to kill me, and I wish you had ; but you have no right to do as you like with me."
" Silence ! " he exclaimed, in a thundering voice. " By heavens, girl, you forget yourself too far ! Are you mad ? If you are, I will soon bring you to your senses. Do you think any other master would bear what I have borne from you this morning? Many masters would have killed you on the spot. How would you like to be sent to jail for your insolence ? 99
" I know I have been disrespectful, sir," I replied ; " but you drove me to it ; I couldn't help it. As for the jail, there would be more peace for me there than there is here."
" You deserve to go there," said he, " and to be under such treatment, that you would forget the mean- ing of the word peace. It would do you good. It would take some of your high notions out of you. But I am not ready to send you there yet, notwith- standing your ingratitude for all my kindness and for- bearance. You have been the plague of my life. I have wanted to make you happy, and I have been re- paid with the basest ingratitude ; but though you have proved yourself incapable of appreciating my kind- ness, I will be lenient towards you, Linda. I will give you one more chance to redeem your character. If you behave yourself and do as I require, I will forgive you and treat you as I always have done ; but if you
The Lo\ cr.
63
disobey me, I will punish you as I would the meanest slave 011 my plantation. Never let me hear that fel- low's name mentioned again. If I ever know of your speaking to him, I will cowhide you both ; and if I catch him lurking about my premises, I will shoot him as soon as I would a dog. Do you hear what I say ? I'll teach you a lesson about marriage and free niggers ! Now go, and let this be the last time I have occasion to speak to you on this subject."
Reader, did you ever hate ? I hope not. L never did but once; and I trust I never shall again. Some- body has called it " the atmosphere of hell ; " and I believe it is so.
For a fortnight the doctor did not speak to me. He thought to mortify me ; to make me feel that I had disgraced myself by receiving the honorable addresses of a respectable colored man, in preference to the base proposals of a white man. But though his lips dis- dained to address me, his eyes were very loquacious. No animal ever watched its prey more narrowly than he watched me. He knew that I could wrrite, though he had failed to make me read his letters ; and he was now troubled lest I should exchange letters with another man. After a while he became weary of silence ; and I was sorry for it. One morning, as he passed through the hall, to leave the house, he con- trived to thrust a note into my hand. I thought I had better read it, and spare myself the vexation of having him read it to me. It expressed regret for the blow he had given me, and reminded me that I myself was wholly to blame for it. He hoped I had become con- vinced of the injury I was doing myself by incurring
64 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
his displeasure. He wrote that he had made up his mind to go to Louisiana ; that he should take several slaves with him, and intended I should be one of the number. My mistress would remain where she was ; therefore I should have nothing to fear from that quarter. If I merited kindness from him, he assured me that it would be lavishly bestowed. He begged me to think over the matter, and answer the following day.
The next morning I was called to carry a pair of scissors to his room. I laid them on the table, with the letter beside them. He thought it was my answer, and did not call me back. I went as usual to attend my young mistress to and from school. He met me in the street, and ordered me to stop at his office 011 my way back. When I entered, he showed me his letter, and asked me why I had not answered it. I replied, " I am your daughter's property, and it is in your power to send me, or take me, wherever you please." He said he was very glad to find me so will- ing to go, and that we should start early in the autumn. He had a large practice in the town, and I rather thought he had made up the story merely to frighten me. However that might be, I was determined that I would never go to Louisiana with him.
Summer passed away, and early in the autumn Dr. Flint's eldest son was sent to Louisiana to examine the country, with a view to emigrating. That news did not disturb me. I knew very well that I should not be sent with him. That I had not been taken to the planta- tion before this time, was owing to the fact that his son was there. He was jealous of his son ; and jeal- ousy of the overseer had kept him from punishing me by
The Lover.
65
sending mo into the fields to work. Is it strange that I was not proud of these protectors ? As for the over- seer, he was a man for whom I had less respect than I had for a bloodhound.
Young Mr. Flint did not bring back a favorable re- port of Louisiana, and I heard no more of that scheme. Soon after this, my lover met me at the corner of the street, and I stopped to speak to him. Looking up, I saw my master watching us from li is window. I hurried home, trembling with fear. I was sent for, im- mediately, to go to his room. He met me with a blow. u When is mistress to be married?" said lie, in a sneering tone. A shower of oaths and imprecations followed. How thankful I was that my lover was a free man! that my tyrant had no power to flog him for speaking to me in the street !
Again and again I revolved in my mind how all this would end. There was no hope that the doctor would consent to sell me 011 any terms. He had an iron will, and was determined to keep me, and to con- quer me. My lover was an intelligent and religious man. Even if he could have obtained permission to marry me while I was a slave, the marriage would give him no power to protect me from my master. It would have made him miserable to witness the in- sults I should have been subjected to. And then, if we had children, I knew they must " follow the con- dition of the mother." What a terrible blight that would be on the heart of a free, intelligent father ! For his sake, I felt that I ought not to link his fate with my own unhappy destiny. He was going to Savannah to see about a little property left him by an uncle ; and
6*
66 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
hard as it was to bring my feelings to it, I earnestly entreated him not to come back. I advised him to go to the Free States, where his tongue would not be tied, and where his intelligence would be of more avail to him. He left me, still hoping the day would come when I could be bought. With me the lamp of hope had gone out. The dream of my girlhood was over. I felt lonely and desolate.
Still I was not stripped of all. I still had my good grandmother, and my affectionate brother. When he put his arms round my neck, and looked into my eyes, as if to read there the troubles I dared not tell, I felt that I still had something to love. But even that pleasant emotion was chilled by the reflection that he might be torn from me at any moment, by some sud- den freak of my master. If he had known how we loved each other, I think he would have exulted in separating us. We often planned together how we could get to the north. But, as William remarked, such things are easier said than done. My movements were very closely watched, and we had no means of getting any money to defray our expenses. As for grandmother, she was strongly opposed to her chil- dren's undertaking any such project. She had not for- gotten poor Benjamin's sufferings, and she was afraid that if another child tried to escape, he would have a similar or a worse fate. To me, nothing seemed more dreadful than my present life. I said to myself, "William must be free. He shall go to the north, and I will follow him." Many a slave sister has formed the same plans.
What Slaves are Taught of the Nortii. 67
VIII.
WHAT SLAVES ARE TAUGHT TO THINK OP THE NORTH.
Slaveholders pride themselves upon being honor- able men ; but if you were to hear the enormous lies they tell their slaves, you would have small respect for their veracity. I have spoken plain English. Pardon me. I cannot use a milder term. When they visit the north, and return home, they tell their slaves of the runaways they have seen, and describe them to be in the most deplorable condition. A slaveholder once told me that he had seen a runaway friend of mine in New York, and that she besought him to take her back to her master, for she was literally dying of starva- tion ; that many days she had only one cold potato to eat, and at other times could get nothing at all. He said he refused to take her, because he knew her master would not thank him for bringing such a mis- erable wretch to his house. He ended by saying to me, " This is the punishment she brought on herself for running away from a kind master."
This whole story was false. I afterwards staid with that friend in New York, and found her in comfort- able circumstances. She had never thought of such a thing as wishing to go back to slavery. Many of the slaves believe such stories, and think it is not worth while to exchange slavery for such a hard kind of free- dom. It is difficult to persuade such that freedom
68 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
could make them useful men, and enable them to pro- tect their wives and children. If those heathen in our Christian land had as much teaching as some Hindoos, they would think otherwise. They would know that liberty is more valuable than life. They would begin to understand their own capabilities, and exert them- selves to become men and women.
But while the Free States sustain a law which hurls fugitives back into slavery, how can the slaves resolve to become men ? There are some who strive to pro- tect wives and daughters from the insults of their masters ; but those who have such sentiments have had advantages above the general mass of slaves. They have been partially civilized and Christianized by favor- able circumstances. Some are bold enough to utter such sentiments to their masters. 0, that there were more of them !
Some poor creatures have been so brutalized by the lash that they will sneak out of the way to give their masters free access to their wives and daughters. Do you think this proves the black man to belong to an inferior order of beings ? What would you be, if you had been born and brought up a slave, with gener- ations of slaves for ancestors ? I admit that the black man is inferior. But what is it that makes him so ? It is the ignorance in which white men compel him to live ; it is the torturing whip that lashes manhood out of him ; it is the fierce bloodhounds of the South, and the scarcely less cruel human bloodhounds of the north, who enforce the Fugitive Slave Law. They do the work.
Southern gentlemen indulge in the most contempt-
What Slaves are Taught of the North. 69
nous expressions about the Yankees, while they, on their part, consent to do the vilest work for them, such as the ferocious bloodhounds and the despised negro- hunters are employed to do at home. When south- erners go to the north, they are proud to do them honor ; but the northern man is not welcome south of Mason and Dixon's line, unless he suppresses every thought and feeling at variance with their " peculiar institution." Nor is it enough to be silent. The mas- ters are not pleased, unless they obtain a greater de- gree of subservience than that ; and they are gener- ally accomodated. Do they respect the northerner for this ? I trow not. Even the slaves despise " a northern man with southern principles ; " and that is the class they generally see. When northerners go to the south to reside, they prove very apt scholars. They soon imbibe the sentiments and disposition of their neighbors, and generally go beyond their teachers. Of the two, they are proverbially the hardest masters.
They seem to satisfy their consciences with the doc- trine that God created the Africans to be slaves. What a libel upon the heavenly Father, who " made of one blood all nations of men ! " And then who are Afri- cans ? Who can measure the amount of Anglo-Saxon blood coursing in the veins of American slaves ?
I have spoken of the pains slaveholders take to give their slaves a bad opinion of the north ; but, notwith- standing this, intelligent slaves are aware that they have many friends in the Free States. Even the most ignorant have some confused notions about it. They knew that I could read ; and I was often asked if I had seen any thing in the newspapers about white folks
70 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
over in the big north, who were trying to get their freedom for them. Some believe that the abolitionists have already made them free, and that it is established by law, but that their masters prevent the law from going into effect. One woman begged me to get a newspaper and read it over. She said her husband told her that the black people had sent word to the queen of 'Merica that they were all slaves ; that she didn't believe it, and went to Washington city to see the president about it. They quarrelled ; she drew her sword upon him, and swore that he should help her to make them all free.
That poor, ignorant woman thought that America was governed by a Queen, to whom the President was subordinate. I wish the President was subordinate to Queen Justice.
Sketches of Neighboring Slaveholders. 71
IX.
SKETCHES OF NEIGHBORING SLAVEHOLDERS.
There was a planter in the country, not far from us, whom I will call Mr. Litch. He was an ill-bred, un- educated man, but very wealthy. He had six hun- dred slaves, many of whom he did not know by sight. His extensive plantation was managed by well-paid overseers. There was a jail and a whipping post on his grounds ; and whatever cruelties were perpetrated there, they passed without comment. He was so effectually screened by his great wealth that he was called to no account for his crimes, not even for murder.
Various were the punishments resorted to. A fa- vorite one was to tie a rope round a man's body, and suspend him from the ground. A fire was kindled over him, from which was suspended a piece of fat pork. As this cooked, the scalding drops of fat con- tinually fell on the bare flesh. On his own plantation, he required very strict obedience to the eighth com- mandment. But depredations on the neighbors were allowable, provided the culprit managed to evade de- tection or suspicion. If a neighbor brought a charge of theft against any of his slaves, he was browbeaten by the master, who assured him that his slaves had enough of every thing at home, and had no induce- ment to steal. No sooner was the neighbor's back turned, than the accused was sought out, and whipped
72 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
for his lack of discretion. If a slave stole from him even a pound of meat or a peck of corn, if detection followed, he was put in chains and imprisoned, and so kept till his form was attenuated by hunger and suf- fering.
A freshet once bore his wine cellar and meat house miles away from the plantation. Some slaves followed, and secured bits of meat and bottles of wine. Two were detected ; a ham and some liquor being found in their huts. They were summoned by their master. No words were used, but a club felled them to the ground. A rough box was their coffin, and their interment was a dog's burial. Nothing was said.
Murder was so common on his plantation that he feared to be alone after nightfall. He might have believed in ghosts.
His brother, if not equal in wealth, was at least equal in cruelty. His bloodhounds were well trained. Their pen was spacious, and a terror to the slaves. They were let loose on a runaway, and, if they tracked him, they literally tore the flesh from his bones. When this slaveholder died, his shrieks and groans were so frightful that they appalled his own friends. His last words were, " I am going to hell ; bury my money with me."
After death his eyes remained open. To press the lids down, silver dollars were laid on them. These were buried with him. From this circumstance, a rumor went abroad that his coffin was filled with money. Three times his grave was opened, and his coffin taken out. The last time, his body was found on the ground, and a flock of buzzards were pecking
Sketches of Neighboring Slaveholders. 73
at it. He was again interred, and a sentinel set over his grave. The perpetrators were never discovered.
Cruelty is contagious in uncivilized communities. Mr. Conant, a neighbor of Mr. Litch, returned from town one evening in a partial state of intoxication. His body servant gave him some offence. He was divested of his clothes, except his shirt, whipped, and tied to a large tree in front of the house. It was a stormy night in winter. The wind blew bitterly cold, and the boughs of the old tree crackled under falling sleet. A member of the family, fearing he would freeze to death, begged that he might be taken down ; but the master would not relent. He remained there three hours ; and, when he was cut clown, he was more dead than alive. Another slave, who stole a pig from this master, to appease his hunger, was terribly flogged. In desperation, he tried to run away. But at the end of two miles, he was so faint with loss of blood, he thought he was dying. He had a wife, and he longed to see her once more. Too sick to walk, he crept back that long distance on his hands and knees. When he reached his master's, it was night. He had not strength to rise and open the gate. He moaned, and tried to call for help. I had a friend living in the same family. At last his cry reached her. She went out and found the prostrate man at the gate. She ran back to the house for assistance, and two men returned with her. They carried him in, and laid him on the floor. The back of his shirt was one clot of blood. By means of lard, my friend loosened it from the raw flesh. She bandaged him, gave him cool drink, and left him to rest. The master said he de-
7
74 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
served a hundred more lashes. . When his own labor was stolen from him, he had stolen food to appease his hunger. This was^his crime.
Another neighbor was a Mrs. Wade. At no hour of the day was there cessation of the lash on her premises. Her labors began with the dawn, and did not cease till long after nightfall. The barn was her particular place of torture. There she lashed the slaves with the might of a man. An old slave of hers once said to me, " It is hell in missis's house. 'Pears I can never get out. Day and night I prays to die."
The mistress died before the old woman, and, when dying, entreated her husband not to permit any one of her slaves to look on her after death. A slave who had nursed her children, and had still a child in her care, watched her chance, and stole with it in her arms to the room where lay her dead mistress. She gazed a while on her, then raised her hand and dealt two blows on her face, saying, as she did so, " The devil is got you now ! " She forgot that the child was looking on. She had just begun to talk ; and she said to her father, " I did see ma, and mammy did strike ma, so," striking her own face with her little hand. The master was startled. He could not im- agine how the nurse could obtain access to the room where the corpse lay ; for he kept the door locked. He questioned her. She confessed that what the child had said was true, and told how she had procured the key. She was sold to Georgia.
In my childhood I knew a valuable slave, named Charity, and loved her, as all children did. Her young mistress married, and took her to Louisiana. Her
Sketches of Neighboring Slaveholders. 75
little boy, James, was sold to a good sort of master. He became involved in debt, and James was sold again to a wealthy slaveholder, noted for his cruelty. With this man he grew up to manhood, receiving the treatment of a dog. After a severe whipping, to save himself from further infliction of the lash, with which he was threatened, he took to the woods. He was in a most miserable condition — cut by the cowskirf, half naked, half starved, and without the means of procuring a crust of bread.
Some weeks after his escape, he was captured, tied, and carried back to his master's plantation. This man considered punishment in his jail, on bread and water, after receiving hundreds of lashes, too mild for the poor slave's offence. Therefore he decided, after the overseer should have whipped him to his satis- faction, to have him placed between the screws of the cotton gin, to stay as long as he had been in the woods. This wretched creature was cut with the whip from his head to his feet, then washed with strong brine, to prevent the flesh from mortifying, and make it heal sooner than it otherwise would. He was then put into the cotton gin, which was screwed down, only allowing him room to turn on his side when he could not lie on his back. Every morning a slave was sent with a piece of bread and bowl of water, which were placed within reach of the poor fellow. The slave was charged, under penalty of severe punishment, not to speak to him.
Four days passed, and the slave continued to carry the bread and water. On the second morning, ho • found the bread gone, but the water untouched.
76 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
When he had been in the press four days and five nights, the slave informed his master that the water had not been used for four mornings, and that a hor- rible stench came from the gin house. The overseer was sent to examine into it. When the press was unscrewed, the dead body was found partly eaten by rats and vermin. Perhaps the rats that devoured his bread had gnawed him before life was extinct. Poor Charity ! Grandmother and I often asked each other how her affectionate heart would bear the news, if she should ever hear of the murder of her son. We had known her husband, and knew that James was like him in manliness and intelligence. These were the qualities that made it so hard for him to be a planta- tion slave. They put him into a rough box, and buried him with less feeling than would have been manifested for an old house dog. Nobody asked any questions. He was a slave ; and the feeling was that the master had a right to do what he pleased with his own property. And what did he care for the value of a slave ? He had hundreds of them. When they had finished their daily toil, they must hurry to eat their little morsels, and be ready to extinguish their pine knots before nine o'clock, when the overseer went his patrol rounds. He entered every cabin, to see that men and their wives had gone to bed together, lest the men, from over-fatigue, should fall asleep in the chim- ney corner, and remain there till the morning horn called them to their daily task. Women are consid- ered of no value, unless they continually increase their t owner's stock. They are put on a par with animals. This same master shot a woman through the head, who
Sketches of Neighboring Slaveholders. 77
had run away and been brought back to him. No one called him to account for it. If a slave resisted being whipped, the bloodhounds were unpacked, and set upon him, to tear his flesh from his bones. The master who did these things wras highly educated, and styled a perfect gentleman. He also boasted the name and standing of a Christian, though Satan never had a truer follower.
I could tell of more slaveholders as cruel as those I have described. They are not exceptions to the gen- eral rule. I do not say there are no humane slave- holders. Such characters do exist, notwithstanding the hardening influences around them. But they are " like angels' visits — few and far between."
I knew a young lady who was one of these rare specimens. She was an orphan, and inherited as slaves a woman and her six children. Their father was a free man. They had a comfortable home of their own, parents and children living together. The mother and eldest daughter served their mistress during the day, and at night returned to their dwell- ing, which was on the premises. The young lady was very pious, and there was some reality in her religion. She taught her slaves to lead pure lives, and wished them to enjoy the fruit of their own industry. Her religion was not a garb put on for Sunday, and laid aside till Sunday returned again. The eldest daugh- ter, of the slave mother was promised in marriage to a free man ; and the day before the wedding this good mistress emancipated her, in order that her marriage might have the sanction of lata.
Report said that this young lady cherished an un- 7* ^
78 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
requited affection for a man who had resolved to marry for wealth. In the course of time a rich uncle of hers died. He left six thousand dollars to his two sons by a colored woman, and the remainder of his property to this orphan niece. The metal soon at- tracted the magnet. The lady and her weighty purse became his. She offered to manumit her slaves — tell- ing them that her marriage might make unexpected changes in their destiny, and she wished to insure their happiness. They refused to take their freedom, saying that she had always been their best friend, and they could not be so happy any where as with her. I was not surprised. I had often seen them in their comfortable home, and thought that the whole town did not contain a happier family. They had never felt slavery ; and, when it was too late, they were con- vinced of its reality.
When the new master claimed this family as his property, the father became furious, and went to his mistress for protection. " I can do nothing for you now, Harry," said she. " I no longer have the power I had a week ago. I have succeeded in obtaining the freedom of your wife ; but I cannot obtain it for your children." The unhappy father swore that nobody should take his children from him. He concealed them in the woods for some days ; but they were dis- covered and taken. The father was put in jail, and the two oldest boys sold to Georgia. One little girl, too young to be of service to her master, was left with the wretched mother. The other three were carried to their master's plantation. The eldest soon became a mother ; and, when the slaveholder's wife looked at
Sketches of Neighboring Slaveholders. 79
the babe, she wept bitterly. She knew that her own husband had violated the purity she had so carefully inculcated. She had a second child by her master, and then he sold her and his offspring to his brother. She bore two children to the brother, and was sold again. The next sister went crazy. The life she was compelled to lead drove her mad. The third one became the mother of five daughters. Before the birth of the fourth the pious mistress died. To the last, she rendered every kindness to the slaves that her unfortunate circumstances permitted. She passed away peacefully, glad to close her eyes on a life which had been made so wretched by the man she loved. ! This man squandered the fortune he had received, and sought to retrieve his affairs by a second marriage ; but, having retired after a night of drunken debauch, he was found dead in the morning. He was called a good master ; for he fed and clothed his slaves better than most masters, and the lash was not heard on his plantation so frequently as on many others. Had it not been for slavery, he would have been a better man, and his wife a happier woman.
No pen can give an adequate description of the all- pervading corruption produced by slavery. The slave girl is reared in an atmosphere of licentiousness and fear. The lash and the foul talk of her master and his sons are her teachers. When she is fourteen or fifteen, her owner, or his sons, or the overseer, or per- haps all of them, begin to bribe her with presents. If these fail to accomplish their purpose, she is whipped or starved into submission to their will. She may have had religious principles inculcated by some pious
8o Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
mother or grandmother, or some good mistress ; she may have a lover, whose good opinion and peace of mind are dear to her heart ; or the profligate men who have power over her may be exceedingly odious to her. But resistance is hopeless.
" The poor worm Shall prove her contest vain. Life's little day- Shall pass, and she is gone ! "
The slaveholder's sons are, of course, vitiated, even while boys, by the unclean influences every where around them. Nor do the master's daughters always escape. Severe retributions sometimes come upon him for the wrongs he does to the daughters of the slaves. The white daughters early hear their parents quarrel- ling about some female slave. Their curiosity is excited, and they soon learn the cause. They are attended by the young slave girls whom their father has corrupted ; and they hear such talk as should never meet youthful ears, or any other ears. They know that the women slaves are subject to their fa- ther's authority in all things ; and in some cases they exercise the same authority over the men slaves. I have myself seen the master of such a household whose head was bowed down in shame ; for it was known in the neighborhood that his daughter had selected one of the meanest slaves on his plantation to be the father of his first grandchild. She did not make her ad- vances to her equals, nor even to her father's more intelligent servants. She selected the most brutalized, over whom her authority could be exercised with less fear of exposure. Her father, half frantic with rage, sought to revenge himself on the offending black man ;
Sketches of Neighboring Slaveholders. 81
but his daughter, foreseeing the storm that would arise, had given him free papers, and sent him out of the state.
In such cases the infant is smothered, or sent where it is never seen by any who know its history. But if the white parent is the father, instead of the mother, the offspring are unblushingly reared for the market. If they are girls, I have indicated plainly enough what will be their inevitable destiny.
You may believe what I say ; for I write only that whereof I know. I was twenty-one years in that cage of obscene birds. I can testify, from my own experi- ence and observation, that slavery is a curse to the whites as well as to the blacks. It makes the white fathers cruel and sensual ; the sons violent and licen- tious ; it contaminates the daughters, and makes the wives wretched. And as for the colored race, it needs an abler pen than mine to describe the extremity of their sufferings, the depth of their degradation.
Yet few slaveholders seem to be aware of the wide- spread moral ruin occasioned by this wicked system. Their talk is of blighted cotton crops — not of the blight on their children's souls.
If you want to be fully convinced of the abomina- tions of slavery, go on a southern plantation, and call yourself a negro trader. Then there will be no con- cealment ; and you will see and hear things that will seem to you impossible among human beings with immortal souls.
82 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
X.
A PERILOUS PASSAGE IN THE SLAVE GIRL'S LIFE.
After my lover went away, Dr. Flint contrived a new plan. He seemed to have an idea that my fear of my mistress was his greatest obstacle. In the blandest tones, he told me that he was going to build a small house for me, in a secluded place, four miles away from the town. I shuddered ; but I was constrained to listen, while he talked of his intention to give me a home of my own, and to make a lady of me. Hitherto, I had escaped my dreaded fate, by being in the midst of people. My grandmother had already had high words with my master about me. She had told him pretty plainly what she thought of his character, and there was considerable gossip in the neighborhood about our affairs, to which the open-mouthed jealousy of Mrs. Flint contributed not a little. When my mas- ter said he was going to build a house for me, and that he could do it with little trouble and expense, I was in hopes something would happen to frustrate his scheme ; but I soon heard that the house was actually begun. I vowed before my Maker that I would never enter it. I had rather toil on the plantation from dawn till dark ; I had rather live and die in jail, than drag on, from day to day, through such a living death. I was deter- mined that the master, whom I so hated and loathed, who had blighted the prospects of my youth, and made
A perilous Paffage in the Slave Girl's Life. 83
my life a desert, should not, after my long struggle with him, succeed at last in trampling his victim under his feet. I would do any thing, every thing, for the sake of defeating him. What could I do ? I thought and thought, till I became desperate, and made a plunge into the abyss.
And now, reader, I come to a period in my unhappy life, which I would gladly forget if I could. The re- membrance fills me with sorrow and shame. It pains me to tell you of it ; but I have promised to tell you the truth, and I will do it honestly, let it cost me what it may. I will not try to screen myself behind the plea of compulsion from a master; for it was not so. Neither can I plead ignorance or thought- lessness. For years, my master had done his utmost to pollute my mind with foul images, and to destroy the pure principles inculcated by my grandmother, and the good mistress of my childhood. The influ- ences of slavery had had the same effect on me that they had on other young girls ; they had made me prematurely knowing, concerning the evil ways of the world. I knew what I did, and I did it with de- liberate calculation.
But, 0, ye happy women, whose purity has been sheltered from childhood, who have been free to choose the objects of your affection, whose homes are protected by law, do not judge the poor desolate slave girl too severely ! If slavery had been abolished, I, also, could have married the man of my choice ; I could have had a home shielded by the laws ; and I should have been spared the painful task of confessing what I am now about to relate ; but all my prospects had been blighted
84 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
by slavery. I wanted to keep myself pure ; and, under the most adverse circumstances, I tried hard to preserve my self-respect; but I was struggling alone in. the powerful grasp of the demon Slavery ; and the monster proved too strong for me. I felt as if I was forsaken by God and man ; as if all my efforts must be frus- trated ; and I became reckless in my despair.
I have told you that Dr. Flint's persecutions and his wife's jealousy had given rise to some gossip in the neighborhood. Among others, it chanced that a white unmarried gentleman had obtained some knowledge of the circumstances in which I was placed. He knew my grandmother, and often spoke to me in the street. He became interested for me, and asked questions about my master, which I answered in part. He ex- pressed a great deal of sympathy, and a wish to aid me. He constantly sought opportunities to see me, and wrote to me frequently. I was a poor slave girl, only fifteen years old.
So much attention from a superior person was, of course, flattering; for human nature is the same in all. I also felt grateful for his sympathy, and encouraged by his kind words. It seemed to me a great thing to have such a friend. By degrees, a more tender feeling crept into my heart. He was an educated and elo- quent gentleman; too eloquent, alas, for the poor slave girl who trusted in him. Of course I saw whither all this was tending. I knew the impassable gulf between us ; but to be an object of interest to a man who is not married, and who is not her master, is agreeable to the pride and feelings of a slave, if her miserable situation has left her any pride or sentiment. It seems less de-
A perilous Paflage in the Slave Girl's Life. 85
grading to give one's self, than to submit to compulsion. There is something akin to freedom in having a lover who lias no control over you, except that which he gains by kindness and attachment. A master may treat you as rudely as he pleases, and you dare not speak; more- over, the wrong does not seem so great with an un- married man, as with one who has a wife to be made unhappy. There may be sophistry in all this ; but the* • condition of a slave confuses all principles of morality, and, in fact, renders the practice of them impossible.
When I found that my master had actually begun to build the lonely cottage, other feelings mixed with those I have described. Revenge, and calculations of interest, were added to flattered vanity and sincere gratitude for kindness. I knew nothing would enrage Dr. Flint so much as to know that I favored another ; and it was something to triumph over my tyrant even in that small way. I thought he would revenge himself by selling me, and I w^as sure my friend, Mr. Sands, would buy me. He was a man of more generosity and feeling than my master, and I thought my free- dom could be easily obtained from him. The crisis of my fate now came so near that I was desperate. I shuddered to think of being the mother of chil- dren that should be owned by my old tyrant. I knew that as soon as a new fancy took him, his victims were sold far off to get rid of them ; especially if they had children. I had seen several women sold, with his babies at the breast. He never allowed his offspring by slaves to remain long in sight of himself and his wife. Of a man who was not my master I could ask to have my children well supported ; and in
8
86 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
this case, I felt confident I should obtain the boon. I % also felt quite sure that they would be made free. With all these thoughts revolving in my mind, and seeing no other way of escaping the doom I so much dreaded, I made a headlong plunge. Pity me, and pardon me,
0 virtuous reader ! You never knew what it is to be a slave ; to be entirely unprotected by law or custom ; to have the laws reduce you to the condition of a chattel, entirely subject to the will of another. You never exhausted your ingenuity in avoiding the snares, and eluding the power of a hated tyrant ; you never shuddered at the sound of his footsteps, and trembled within hearing of his voice. I know I did wrong. No one can feel it more sensibly than I do. The painful and humiliating memory will haunt me to my dying day. Still, in looking back, calmly, on the events of my life, I feel that the slave woman ought not to be judged by the same standard as others.
The months passed on. 1 had many unhappy hours.
1 secretly mourned over the sorrow I was bringing on my grandmother, who had so tried to shield me from harm. I knew that I was the greatest comfort of her old age, and that it was a source of pride to her that I had not degraded myself, like most of the slaves. I wanted to confess to her that I was no longer worthy of her love ; but I could not utter the dreaded words.
As for Dr. Flint, I had a feeling of satisfaction and triumph in the thought of telling him. From time to time he told me of his intended arrangements, and I was silent. At last, he came and told me the cottage was completed, and ordered me to go to it. I told him I would never enter it. He said, " I have heard
A perilous Paffage in the Slave Girl's Life. 87
enough of such talk as that. You shall go, if you are carried by force ; and you shall remain there."
I replied, " 1 will never go there. In a few months I shall be a mother."
He stood and looked at me in dumb amazement, and left the house without a word. I thought I should be happy in my triumph over him. But now that the truth was out, and my relatives would hear of it, I felt wretched. Humble as were their circumstances, they had pride in my good character. Now, how could I look them in the face ? My self-respect was gone ! I had resolved that I would be virtuous, though I was a slave. I had said, " Let the storm beat ! I will brave it till I die." And now, how humiliated I felt !
I went to my grandmother. My lips moved to make confession, but the words stuck in my throat. I sat down in the shade of a tree at her door and began to sew. I think she saw something unusual was the matter with ine. The mother of slaves is very watch- ful. She knows there is no security for her children. After they have entered their teens she lives in daily expectation of trouble. This leads to many questions. If the girl is of a sensitive nature, timidity keeps her from answering truthfully, and this well-meant course has a tendency to drive her from maternal counsels. Presently, in came my mistress, like a mad woman, and accused me concerning her husband. My grand- mother, whose suspicions had been previously awak- ened, believed what she said. She exclaimed, "0 Linda ! has it come to this ? I had rather see you dead than to see you as you now are. You are a dis- grace to your dead mother." She tore from my fin-
88 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
gers my mother's wedding ring and her silver thimble* " Go away ! " she exclaimed, " and never come to my house, again." Her reproaches fell so hot and heavy, that they left me no chance to answer. Bitter tears, such as the eyes never shed but once, were my only answer. I rose from my seat, but fell back again, sob- bing. She did not speak to me ; but the tears were running down her furrowed cheeks, and they scorched me like fire. She had always been so kind to me ! So kind ! How I longed to throw myself at her feet, and tell her all the truth ! But she had ordered me to go, and never to come there again. After a few minutes, I mustered strength, and started to obey her. With what feelings did I now close that little gate, which I used to open with such an eager hand in my child- hood ! It closed upon me with a sound I never heard before.
Where could I go? I was afraid to return to my mas- ter's. I walked on recklessly, not caring Where I went, or what would become of me. When I had gone four or five miles, fatigue compelled me to stop. I sat down on the stump of an old tree. The stars were shining through the boughs above me. How they mocked me, with their bright, calm light ! The hours passed by, and as I sat there alone a chilliness and deadly sickness came over me. I sank on the ground. My mind was full of horrid thoughts. I prayed to die ; but the prayer was not answered. At last, with greal ef- fort I roused myself, and walked some distance further, to the house of a woman who had been a friend of my mother. When I told her why I was there, she spoke soothingly to me ; but I could not be comforted. I
A perilous Paflage in the Slave Girl's Life. 89
thought I could bear my shame if I could only be re- conciled to my grandmother. I longed to open my heart to her. I thought if she could know the real state of the case, and all I had been bearing for years, she would perhaps judge me less harshly. My friend advised me to send for her. I did so ; but days of agonizing suspense passed before she came. Had she utterly forsaken me ? No. She came at last. I knelt • before her, and told her the things that had poisoned my life ; how long I had been persecuted ; that I saw no way of escape ; and in an hour of extremity I had become desperate. She listened in silence. I told her I would bear any thing and do any thing, if in time I had hopes of obtaining her forgiveness. I begged of her to pity me, for my dead mother's sake. And she did pity me. She did not say, " I forgive you ; " but she looked at me lovingly, with her eyes full of tears. She laid her old hand gently on my head, and murmured, " Poor child ! Poor child! "
8*
Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl
XI.
THE NEW TIE TO LIFE.
I returned to rny good grandmother's house. She had an interview with Mr. Sands. When she asked him why he could not have left her one ewe lamb, — whether there were not plenty of slaves who did not care about character, — he made no answer ; but he spoke kind and encouraging words. He promised to care for my child, and to buy me, be the conditions what they might.
I had not seen Dr. Flint for five days. I had never seen him since I made the avowal to him. He talked of the disgrace I had brought on myself; how I had sinned against my master, and mortified my old grand- mother. He intimated that if I had accepted his pro- posals, he, as a physician, could have saved me from exposure. He even condescended to pity me. Could he have offered wormwood more bitter ? He, whose persecutions had been the cause of my sin !
" Linda," said he, " though you have been crim- inal towards me, I feel for you, tmd I can pardon you if you obey my wishes. Tell me whether the fellow you wanted to marry is the father of your child. If you deceive me, you shall feel the fires of hell."
I did not feel as proud as I had done. My strong- est weapon with him was gone. I was lowered in my own estimation, and had resolved to bear his abuse in silence. But when he spoke contemptuously of the
The New Tie to Life.
91
lover who had always treated me honorably ; when I remembered that but for lum I might have been a virtuous, tree, and happy wife, I lost my patience. " I have sinned against God and myself," I replied ; " but not against you."
He clinched his teeth, and muttered, " Curse you ! " He came towards me, with ill-suppressed rage, and ex- claimed, "You obstinate girl! I could grind your bones to powder! You have thrown yourself away on some worthloss rascal. You arc weak-minded, and have been easily persuaded by those who don't care a straw for you. The future will settle accounts between us. You are blinded now ; but hereafter you will be convinced that your master was your best friend. My lenity towards you is a proof of it. I might have pun- ished you in many ways. I might have had you whipped till you fell dead under the lash. But I wanted you to live ; I would have bettered your con- dition. Others cannot do it. You are my slave. Your mistress, disgusted by your conduct, forbids you to return to the house ; therefore I leave you here for the present ; but I shall see you often. I will call to- morrow."
He came with frowning brows, that showed a dis- satisfied state of mind. After asking about my health, he inquired whether my board was paid, and who visited me. He then went on to say that he had neg- lected his duty ; that as a physician there were cer- tain things that he ought to have explained to me. Then followed talk such as would have made the most shameless blush. He ordered me to stand up before him. I obeyed. " I command you," said he, " to tell
92 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
me whether the father of your child is white or black." I hesitated. " Answer me this instant ! " he exclaimed. I did answer. He sprang upon me like a wolf, and grabbed my arm as if he would have broken it. " Do you love him ? " said he, in a hissing tone.
" I am thankful that I do not despise him," I re- plied.
He raised his hand to strike me ; but it fell again. I don't know what arrested the blow. He sat down, with lips tightly compressed. At last he spoke. " I came here," said he, " to make you a friendly proposi- tion ; but your ingratitude chafes me beyond endur- ance. You turn aside all my good intentions towards you. I don't know what it is that keeps me from kill- ing you." Again he rose, as if he had a mind to strike me.
But he resumed. " On one condition I will forgive your insolence and crime. You must henceforth have no communication of any kind with the father of your child. You must not ask any thing from him, or receive any thing from him. I will take care of you and your child. You had better promise this at once, and not wait till you are deserted by him. This is the last act of mercy I shall show towards you."
I said something about being unwilling to have my child supported by a man who had cursed it and me also. He rejoined, that a woman who had sunk to my level had no right to expect any thing else. He asked, for the last time, would I accept his kindness ? I an- swered that I would not.
" Very well," said he ; " then take the consequences of your wayward course. Never look to me for help.
The New Tie to Life.
93
You are my slave, and shall always be my slave. I will never sell you, that you may depend upon."
Hope died away in my heart as he closed the door after him. I had calculated that in his rage he would sell me to a slave-trader ; and I knew the father of my child was on the watch to buy me.
About this time my uncle Phillip was expected to return from a voyage. The day before his departure I had officiated as bridesmaid to a young friend. My heart was then ill at ease, but my smiling countenance did not betray it. Only a year had passed ; but what fearful changes it had wrought ! My heart had grown gray in misery. Lives that flash in sunshine, and lives that are born in tears, receive their hue from circum- stances. None of us know what a year may bring forth.
I felt no joy when they told me my uncle had come. He wanted to see me, though he knew what had hap- pened. I shrank from him at first ; but at last con- sented that he should come to my room. He received me as he always had done. 0, how my heart smote me when I felt his tears on my burning cheeks ! The words of my grandmother came to my mind, — "Per- haps your mother and father are taken from the evil days to come." My disappointed heart could now praise God that it was so. But why, thought I, did my relatives ever cherish hopes for me ? What was there to save me from the usual fate of slave girls ? Many more beautiful and more intelligent than I had experienced a similar fate, or a far worse one. How could they hope that I should escape ?
My uncle's stay was short, and I was not sorry for
94 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
it. I was too ill in mind and body to enjoy my friends as I had done. For some weeks I was unable to leave my bed. I could not have any doctor but my master, and I would not have him sent for. At last, alarmed by my increasing illness, they sent for him. I was very weak and nervous ; and as soon as he entered the room, I began to scream. They told him my state was very critical. He had no wish to hasten me out of the world, and he withdrew.
When my babe was born, they said it was premature. It weighed only four pounds ; but God let it live. I heard the doctor say I could not survive till morning. I had often prayed for death ; but now I did not want to die, unless my child could die too. Many weeks passed before I was able to leave my bed. I was a mere wreck of my former self. For a year there was scarcely a day when I was free from chills and fever. My babe also was sickly. His little limbs were often racked with pain. Dr. Flint continued his visits, to look after my health ; and he did not fail to remind me that my child was an addition to his stock of slaves.
I felt too feeble to dispute with him, and listened to his remarks in silence. His visits were less frequent ; but his busy spirit could not remain quiet. He em- ployed my brother in his office, and he was made the medium of frequent notes and messages to me. Wil- liam was a bright lad, and of much use to the doctor He had learned to put up medicines, to leech, cup, and bleed. He had taught himself to read and spell. I was proud of my brother ; and the old doctor sus- pected as much. One day, when I had not seen him for several weeks, I heard his steps approaching the
The New Tie to Life.
95
door. I dreaded the encounter, and hid myself. He inquired for me, of course ; but I was nowhere to be found. He went to his office, and despatched William with a note. The color mounted to my brother's face when he gave it to me ; and he said, " Don't you hate me, Linda, for bringing you these things ? " I told him I could not blame him ; he was a slave, and obliged to obey his master's will. The note ordered me to come to his office. I went. He demanded to know where I was when he called. I told him I was at home. He flew into a passion, and said he knew better. Then he launched out upon his usual themes, — my crimes against him, and my ingratitude for his for- bearance. The laws were laid down to me anew, and I was dismissed. I felt humiliated that my brother should stand by, and listen to such language as would be addressed only to a slave. Poor boy! He was powerless to defend me ; but I saw the tears, which he vainly strove to keep back. This manifestation of feel- ing irritated the doctor. William could do nothing to please him. One morning he did not arrive at the office so early as usual ; and that circumstance afforded his master an opportunity to vent his spleen. He was put in jail. The next day my brother sent a trader to the doctor, with a request to be sold. His master was greatly incensed at what he called his in- solence. He said he had put him there to reflect upon his bad conduct, and he certainly was not giving any evidence of repentance. For two days he harassed himself to find somebody to do his office work ; but every thing went wrong without William. He was released, and ordered to take his old stand, with many
96 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
threats, if he was not careful about his future be- havior.
As the months passed on, my boy improved in health. When he was a year old, they callod him beautiful. The little vine was taking deep root in my existence, though its clinging fondness excited a mixture of love and pain. When I was most sorely oppressed I found a solace in his smiles. I loved to watch his infant slumbers ; but always there was a dark cloud over my enjoyment. I could never forget that he was a slave. Sometimes I wished that he might die in infancy. God tried me. My darling became very ill. The bright eyes grew dull, and the little feet and hands were so icy cold that I thought death had already touched them. I had prayed for his death, but never so ear- nestly as I now prayed for his life ; and my prayer was heard. Alas, what mockery it is for a slave mother to try to pray back her dying child to life ! Death is better than slavery. It was a sad thought that I had no name to give my child. His father caressed him and treated him kindly, whenever he had a chance to see him. He was not unwilling that he should bear his name ; but he had no legal claim to it ; and if I had bestowed it upon him, my master would have re- garded it as a new crime, a new piece of insolence, and would, perhaps, revenge it on the boy. 0, the serpent of Slavery has many and poisonous fangs !
Fear of Infurrection. 97
XII.
FEAR OF INSURRECTION.
Not far from this time Nat Turner's insurrection broke out ; and the news threw our town into great commotion. Strange that they should be alarmed, when their slaves were so " contented and happy " ! But so it was.
It was always the custom to have a muster every year. On that occasion every white man shouldered his musket. The citizens and the so-called country gentlemen wore military uniforms. The poor whites took their places in the ranks in every-day dress, some without shoes, some without hats. This grand occa- sion had already passed ; and when the slaves were told there was to be another muster, they were sur- prised and rejoiced. Poor creatures ! They thought it was going to be a holiday. I was informed of the true state of affairs, and imparted it to the few I could trust. Most gladly would I have proclaimed it to every slave ; but I dared not. All could not be relied on. Mighty is the power of the torturing lash.
By sunrise, people were pouring in from every quar- ter within twenty miles of the town. I knew the houses were to be searched ; and I expected it would be done by country bullies and the poor whites. I knew nothing annoyed them so much as to see colored people living in comfort and respectability ; so I made arrangements for them with especial care. I arranged
9
Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
every thing in my grandmother's house as neatly as possible. I put white quilts on the beds, and deco- rated some of the rooms with flowers. When all was arranged, I sat down at the window to watch. Far as my eye could reach, it rested on a motley crowd of soldiers. Drums and fifes were discoursing martial music. The men were divided into companies of six- teen, each headed by a captain. Orders were given, and the wild scouts rushed in every direction, wherever a colored face was to be found.
It was a grand opportunity for the low whites, who had no negroes of their own to scourge. They exulted in such a chance to exercise a little brief authority, and show their subserviency to the slaveholders ; not reflecting that the power which trampled on the col- ored people also kept themselves in poverty, ignorance, and moral degradation. Those who never witnessed such scenes can hardly believe what I know was in- flicted at this time on innocent men, women, and chil- dren, against whom there was not the slightest ground for suspicion. Colored people and slaves who lived in remote parts of the town suffered in an especial manner. In some cases the searchers scattered powder and shot among their clothes, and then sent other parties to find them, and bring them forward as proof that they were plotting insurrection. Every where men, women, and children were whipped till the blood stood in puddles at their feet. Some received five hundred lashes ; others were tied hands and feet, and tortured with a bucking paddle, which blisters the skin terribly. The dwellings of the colored people, unless they happened to be protected by some influential white person, who
Fear of Infurrection. 99
was nigh at hand, were robbed of clothing and every thing else the marauders thought worth carrying away. All day long these unfeeling wretches went round, like a troop of demons, terrifying and tormenting the help- less. At night, they formed themselves into patrol bands, and went wherever they chose among the col- ored people, acting out their brutal will. Many women hid themselves in woods and swamps, to keep out of their way. If any of the husbands or fathers told of these outrages, they were tied up to the public whip- ping post, and cruelly scourged for telling lies about white men. The consternation was universal. No two people that had the slightest tinge of color in their faces dared to be seen talking together.
I entertained no positive fears about our household, because we were in the midst of white families who would protect us. We were ready to receive the soldiers whenever they came. It was not long before we heard the tramp of feet and the sound of voices. The door was rudely pushed open ; and in they tum- bled, like a pack of hungry wolves. They snatched at every thing within their reach. Every box, trunk, closet, and corner underwent a thorough examination. A box in one of the drawers containing some silver change was eagerly pounced upon. When I stepped forward to take it from them, one of the soldiers turned and said angrily, " What d'ye foller us fur ? D'ye s'pose white folks is come to steal ? "
I replied, " You have come to search ; but you have searched that box, and I will take it, if you please."
At that moment I saw a white gentleman who was friendly to us ; and I called to him, and asked him to
loo Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
have the goodness to come in and stay till the search was over. He readily complied. His entrance into the house brought in the captain of the company, whose business it was to guard the outside of the house, and see that none of the inmates left it. This officer was Mr. Litch, the wealthy slaveholder whom I mentioned, in the account of neighboring planters, as being notorious for his cruelty. He felt above soiling his hands with the search. He merely gave orders ; and, if a bit of writing was discovered, it was carried to him by his ignorant followers, who were unable to read.
My grandmother had a large trunk of bedding and table cloths. When that was opened, there was a great shout of surprise ; and one exclaimed, " Whero'd the damned niggers git all dis sheet an' table clarf ? "
My grandmother, emboldened by the presence of our white protector, said, " You may be sure we didn't pilfer 'em from your houses."
" Look here, mammy," said a grim-looking fellow without any coat, " you seem to feel mighty gran' 'cause you got all them 'ere fixens. White folks oughter have 'em all."
His remarks were interrupted by a chorus of voices shouting, " We's got 'em ! We's got 'em ! Dis 'ere yaller gal's got letters ! "
There was a general rush for the supposed letter, which, upon examination, proved to be some verses written to me by a friend. In packing away my things, I had overlooked them. When their captain informed them of their contents, they seemed much disappointed. He inquired of me who wrote them.
Fear of Infurrection.
101
I told him it was one of my friends. " Can you read them ? " he asked. When I told him I could, he swore, and raved, and tore the paper into bits. " Bring me all your letters ! " said he, in a com- manding tone. I told him I had none. " Don't be afraid," he continued, in an insinuating way. " Bring them all to me. Nobody shall do you any harm." Seeing I did not move to obey him, his pleasant tone changed to oaths and threats. " Who writes to you ? half free niggers ? " inquired he. I replied, " 0, no ; most of my letters are from white people. Some request me to burn them after they are read, and some I destroy without reading."
An exclamation of surprise from some of the com- pany put a stop to our conversation. Some silver spoons which ornamented an old-fashioned buffet had just been discovered. My grandmother was in the habit of preserving fruit for many ladies in the town, and of preparing suppers for parties ; consequently she had many jars of preserves. The closet that con- tained these was next invaded, and the contents tasted. One of them, who was helping himself freely, tapped his neighbor on the shoulder, and said, " Wal done ! Don't wonder de niggers want to kill all de white folks, when dey live on 'sarves " [meaning preserves]. I stretched out my hand to take the jar, saying, " You were not sent here to search for sweetmeats."
"And what were we sent for?" said the captain, bristling up to me. I evaded the question.
The search of the house was completed, and noth- ing found to condemn us. They next proceeded to the garden, and knocked about every bush and vine,
102 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
with no better success. The captain called his men together, and, after a short consultation, the order to march was given. As they passed out of the gate, the captain turned back, and pronounced a maledic- tion on the house. He said it ought to be burned to the ground, and each of its inmates receive thirty- nine lashes. We came out of this affair very fortu- nately; not losing any thing except some wearing apparel.
Towards evening the turbulence increased. The soldiers, stimulated by drink, committed still greater cruelties. Shrieks and shouts continually rent the air. Not daring to go to the door, I peeped under the window curtain. I saw a mob dragging along a num- ber of colored people, each white man, with his musket upraised, threatening instant death if they did not stop their shrieks. Among the prisoners was a respectable old colored minister. They had found a few parcels of shot in his house, which his wife had for years used to balance her scales. For this they were going to shoot him on Court House Green. What a spectacle was that for a civilized country ! A rabble, staggering under intoxication, assuming to be the administrators of justice !
The better class of the community exerted their influence to save the innocent, persecuted people ; and in several instances they succeeded, by keeping them shut up in jail till the excitement abated. At last the white citizens found that their own property was not safe from the lawless rabble they had summoned to protect them. They rallied the drunken swarm, drove them back into the country, and set a guard over the town.
Fear of Infurrection. 103
The next day, the town patrols were commissioned to search colored people that lived out of the city; and the most shocking outrages were committed with perfect impunity. Every day for a fortnight, if I looked out, I saw horsemen with some poor panting negro tied to their saddles, and compelled by the lash to keep up with their" speed, till they arrived at the jail yard. Those who had been whipped too unmer- cifully to walk were washed with brine, tossed into a cart, and carried to jail. One black man, who had not fortitude to endure scourging, promised to give information about the conspiracy. But it turned out that he knew nothing at all. He had not even heard the name of Nat Turner. The poor fellow had, how- ever, made up a story, which augmented his own sufferings and those of the colored people.
The day patrol continued for some weeks, and at sundown a night guard was substituted. Nothing at V * all was proved against the colored people, bond or free. The wrath of the slaveholders was somewhat appeased by the capture of Nat Turner. The imprisoned were * released. The slaves were sent to their masters, and the free were permitted to return to their ravaged homes. Visiting was strictly forbidden on the planta- tions. The slaves begged the privilege of again meet- ing at their little church in the woods, with their burying ground around it. It was built by the colored people, and they had no higher happiness than to meet there and sing hymns together, and pour out their hearts in spontaneous prayer. Their request was denied, and the church was demolished. They were permitted to attend the white churches, a certain por-
104 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
tion of the galleries being appropriated to their use. There, when every body else had partaken of the communion, and the benediction had been pronounced, the minister said, " Come down, now, my colored friends." They obeyed the summons, and partook of the bread and wine, in commemoration of the meek and lowly Jesus, who said, " God is your Father, and all ye are brethren."
The Church and Slavery. 105
•
XIII.
THE CHURCH AND SLAVERY.
After the alarm caused by Nat Turner's insurrection had subsided, the slaveholders came to the conclusion that it would be well to give the slaves enough of reli- gious instruction to keep them from murdering their masters. The Episcopal clergyman offered to hold a separate service on Sundays for their benefit. His colored members were very few, and also very respect- able — a fact which I presume had some weight with him. The difficulty was to decide on a suitable place for them to worship. The' Methodist and Baptist churches admitted them in the afternoon ; but their carpets and cushions were not so costly as those at the Episcopal church. It was at last decided that they should meet at the house of a free colored man, who was a member.
I was invited to attend, because I could read. Sun- day evening came, and, trusting to the cover of night, I ventured out. I rarely ventured out by daylight, for I always went with fear, expecting at every turn to encounter Dr. Flint, who was sure to turn me back, or order me to his office to inquire where I got my bon- net, or some other article of dress. When the Rev. Mr. Pike came, there were some twenty persons pres- ent. The reverend gentleman knelt in prayer, then seated himself, and requested all present, who could read, to open their books, while he gave out the por- tions he wished them to repeat or respond to.
lo6 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
His text was, " Servants, be obedient to them that are your masters according to the flesh, with fear and trembling, in singleness of your heart, as unto Christ."
Pious Mr. Pike brushed up his hair till it stood up- right, and, in deep, solemn tones, began : " Hearken, ye servants ! Give strict heed unto my words. You are rebellious sinners. Your hearts are filled with all manner of evil. 'Tis the devil who tempts you. God is angry with you, and will surely punish you, if you don't forsake your wicked ways. You that live in town are eye-servants behind your master's back. Instead of serving your masters faithfully, which is pleasing in the sight of your heavenly Master, you are idle, and shirk your work. God sees you. You tell lies. God hears you. Instead of being engaged in worshipping him, you are hidden away somewhere, feasting on your master's substance ; tossing coffee- grounds with some wicked fortuneteller, or cutting cards with another old hag. Your masters may not fiild you out, but God sees you, and will punish you. 0, the depravity of your hearts ! When your master's work is done, are you quietly together, thinking of the goodness of God to such sinful creatures ? No ; you are quarrelling, and tying up little bags of roots to bury under the door-steps to poison each other with. God sees you. You men steal away to every grog shop to sell your master's corn, that you may buy rum to drink. God sees you. You sneak into the back streets, or among the bushes, to pitch coppers. Although your masters may not find you out, God sees you ; and he will punish you. You must forsake
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107
your sinful ways, and be faithful servants. Obey your old master and your young master — your old mistress and your young mistress. If you disobey your earthly master, you offend your heavenly Master. You must obey God's commandments. When you go from here, don't stop at the corners of the streets to talk, but go directly home, and let your master and mistress see that you have come."
The benediction was pronounced. We went home, highly amvised at brother Pike's gospel teaching, and we determined to hear him again. I went the next Sabbath evening, and heard pretty much a repetition of the last discourse. At the close of the meeting, Mr. Pike informed us that he found it very inconven- ient to meet at the friend's house, and he should be glad to see us, every Sunday evening, at his own kitchen.
I went home with the feeling that I had heard the Reverend Mr. Pike for the last time. Some of his members repaired to his house, and found that the kitchen sported two tallow candles; the first time, I am sure, since its present occupant owned it, for the servants never had any thing but pine knots. It was so long before the reverend gentleman descended from hip comfortable parlor that the slaves left, and went to enjoy a Methodist shout. They never seem so happy as when shouting and singing at religious meetings. Many of them are sincere, and nearer to the gate of heaven than sanctimonious Mr. Pike, and other loii^- faced Christians, who see wounded Samaritans, and pass by on the other side.
The slaves generally compose their own songs and
io8 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
hymns ; and they do not trouble their heads much about the measure. They often sing the following verses :
" Old Satan is one busy ole man ;
He rolls dem blocks all in my way ; But Jesus is my bosom friend ; He rolls dem blocks away.
" If I had died when I was young,
Den how my stam'ring tongue would have sung ; But I am ole, and now I stand A narrow chance for to tread dat heavenly land."
I well remember one occasion when I attended a Methodist class meeting. I went with a burdened spirit, and happened to sit next a poor, bereaved mother, whose heart was still heavier than mine. The class leader was the town constable — a man who bought and sold slaves, who whipped his brethren and sisters of the church at the public whipping post, in jail or out of jail. He was ready to perform that Christian office any where for fifty cents. This white- faced, black-hearted brother came near us, and said to the stricken woman, " Sister, can't you tell us how the Lord deals with your soul ? Do you love him as you did formerly? "
She rose to her feet, and said, in piteous tones, " My Lord and Master, help me ! My load is more than I can bear. God has hid himself from me, and I am left in darkness and misery." Then, striking her breast, she continued, " I can't tell you what is in here ! They've got all my children. Last week they took the last one. God only knows where they've sold her. They let me have her sixteen years, and then 0 ! 0 ! Pray for her brothers and sisters !
The Church arid Slavery. 109
I've got nothing to live for now. God make my time short ! "
She sat down, quivering in every limb. I saw that constable class leader become crimson in the face with suppressed laughter, while he held up his handker- chief, that those who were weeping for the poor wo- man's calamity might not see his merriment. Then, with assumed gravity, he said to the bereaved mother, " Sister, pray to the Lord that every dispensation of his divine will may be sanctified to the good of your poor needy soul ! "
The congregation struck up a hymn, and sung as though they were as free as the birds that warbled round us, —
" Ole Satan thought he had a mighty aim ; He missed my soul, and caught my sins. Cry Amen, cry Amen, cry Amen to God !
" He took my sins upon his back ; Went muttering and grumbling down to hell. Cry Amen, cry Amen, cry Amen to God !
" Ole Satan's church is here below. Up to God's free church I hope to go. Cry Amen, cry Amen, cry Amen to God ! "
Precious are such moments to the poor slaves. If you were to hear them at suqh times, you might think they were happy. But can that hour of singing and shouting sustain them through the dreary week, toiling without wages, under constant dread of the lash ?
The Episcopal clergyman, who, ever since my earli- est recollection, had been a sort of god among the slaveholders, concluded, as his family was large, that he must go where money was more abundant. A
10
l io Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
very different clergyman took his place. The change was very agreeable to the colored people, who said, " God has sent us a good man this time." They loved him, and their children followed him for a smile or a kind word. Even the slaveholders felt his influence. He brought to the rectory five slaves. His wife taught them to read and write, and to be useful to her and themselves. As soon as he was settled, he turned his attention to the needy slaves around him. He urged upon his parishioners the duty of having a meeting expressly for them every Sunday, with # sermon adapted to their comprehension. After much argu- ment and importunity, it was finally agreed that they might occupy the gallery of the church on Sunday evenings. Many colored people, hitherto unaccus- tomed to attend church, now gladly went to hear the gospel preached. The sermons were simple, and they understood them. Moreover, it was the first time they had ever been addressed as human beings. It was not long before his white parishioners began to be dissatis- fied. He was accused of preaching better sermons to the negroes than he did to them. He honestly con- fessed that he bestowed more pains upon those sermons than upon any others ; for the slaves were reared in such ignorance that it was a difficult task to adapt him- self to their comprehension. Dissensions arose in the parish. Some wanted he should preach to them in the evening, and to the slaves in the afternoon. In the midst of these disputings his wife died, after a very short illness. Her slaves gathered round her dying bed in great sorrow. She said, " I have tried to do you good and promote your happiness ; and if I have
The Church and Slavery.
ill
failed, it has not been for want of interest in your welfare. Do not weep for me ; but prepare for the new duties that lie before you. I leave you all free. May we meet in a better world." Her liberated slaves were sent away, with funds to establish them comfort- ably. The colored people will long bless the memory of that truly Christian woman. Soon after her death her husband preached his farewell sermon, and many tears were shed at his departure.
Several years after, he passed through our town and preached to his former congregation. In his afternoon sermon he addressed the colored people. " My friends," said he, " it affords me great happiness to have an opportunity of speaking to you again. For two years I have been striving to do something for the colored people of my own parish; but nothing is yet accomplished. I have not even preached a sermon to them. Try to live according to the word of God, my friends. Your skin is darker than mine ; but God judges men by their hearts, not by the color of their skins." This was strange doctrine from a southern pulpit. It was very offensive to slaveholders. They said he and his wife had made fools of their slaves, and that he preached like a fool to the negroes.
I knew an old black man, whose piety and child- like trust in God were beautiful to witness. At fifty- three years old he joined the Baptist church. He had a most earnest desire to learn to read. He thought he should know how to serve God better if he could only read the Bible. He came to me, and begged me to teach him. He said he could not pay me, for he had
112 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
no money ; but he would bring me nice fruit when the season for it came. I asked him if he didn't know it was contrary to law ; and that slaves were whipped and imprisoned for teaching each other to read. This brought the tears into his eyes. " Don't be troubled, uncle Fred/7 said L " I have no thoughts of refusing to teach you. I only told you of the law, that you might know the danger, and be on your guard." He thought he could plan to come three times a week without its being suspected. I selected a quiet nook, where no intruder was likely to penetrate, and there I taught him his A, B, C. Considering his age, his progress was astonishing. As soon as he could spell in two syllables he wanted to spell out words in the Bible. The happy smile that illuminated his face put joy into my heart. After spelling out a few words, he paused, and said, " Honey, it 'pears when I can read dis good book I shall be nearer to God. White man is got all de sense. He can larn easy. It ain't easy for ole black man like me. I only wants to read dis book, dat I may know how to live ; den I hab no fear 'bout dying."
I tried to encourage him by speaking of the rapid progress he had made. " Hab patience, child," he replied. " I larns slow."
I had no need of patience. His gratitude, and the happiness I imparted, were more than a recompense for all my trouble.
At the end of six months he had read through the New Testament, and could find any text in it. One day, when he had recited unusually well, I said,
The Church and Slavery.
" Uncle Fred, how do you manage to get your lessons so well ? "
" Lord bress you, chile," he replied. " You nebber gibs me a lesson dat I don't pray to God to help me to understan' what I spells and what I reads. And he does help me, chile. Bress his holy name ! "
There are thousands, who, like good uncle Fred, are thirsting for the water of life ; but the law forbids it, and the churches withhold it. They send the Bible to heathen abroad, and neglect the heathen at home. I am glad that missionaries go out to the dark corners of the earth ; but I ask them not to overlook the dark corners at home. Talk to American slaveholders as you talk to savages in Africa. Tell them it is wrong to traffic in men. Tell them it is sinful to sell theii own children, and atrocious to violate their own daughters. Tell them that all men are brethren, and that man has no right to shut out the light of knowl- edge from his brother. Tell them they are answerable to God for sealing up the Fountain of Life from souls that are thirsting for it.
There are men who would gladly undertake such missionary work as this ; but, alas ! their number is small. They are hated by the south, and would be driven from its soil, or dragged to prison to die, as others have been before them. The field is ripe for the harvest, and awaits the reapers. Perhaps the great grandchildren of uncle Fred may have freely imparted to them the divine treasures, which ho sought by stealth, at the risk of the prison and the scourge.
Are doctors of divinity blind, or are they hyp- 10*
114 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl
ocrites ? I suppose some are the one, and some the other ; but I think if they felt the interest in the poor and the lowly, that they ought to feel, they would not be so easily blinded. A clergyman who goes to the south, for the first time, has usually some feeling, however vague, that slavery is wrong. The slave- holder suspects this, and plays his game accordingly. He makes himself as agreeable as possible ; talks on theology, and other kindred topics. The reverend gentleman is asked to invoke a blessing on a table loaded with luxuries. After dinner he walks round the premises, and sees the beautiful groves and flower- ing vines, and the comfortable huts of favored house- hold slaves. The southerner invites him to talk with these slaves. He asks them if they want to be free, and they say, " 0, no, massa." This is sufficient to satisfy him. He comes home to publish a " South- Side View of Slavery," and to complain of the exag- gerations of abolitionists. He assures people that he has been to the south, and seen slavery for himself; that it is a beautiful " patriarchal institution ; " that the slaves don't want their freedom ; that they have hallelujah meetings, and other religious privileges.
What does he know of the half-starved wretches toil- ing from dawn till dark on the plantations ? of moth- ers shrieking for their children, torn from their arms by slave traders ? of young girls dragged down into moral filth ? of pools of blood around the whipping post ? of hounds trained to tear human flesh ? of men screwed into cotton gins to die ? The slaveholder showed him none of these things, and the slaves dared not tell of them if he had asked them.
The Church and Slavery.
There is a great difference between Christianity and religion at the south. If a man goes to the commun- ion table, and pays money into the treasury of the church, no matter if it be the price of blood, he is called religious. If a pastor has offspring by a woman not his wife, the church dismiss him, if she is a white woman ; but if she is colored, it does not hinder his continuing to be their good shepherd.
When I was told that Dr. Flint had joined the Episcopal church, I was much surprised. I supposed that religion had a purifying effect on the character of men ; but the worst persecutions I endured from him were after he was a communicant. The conver- sation of the doctor, the day after he had been con- firmed, certainly gave me no indication that he had " renounced the devil and all his works." In answer to some of his usual talk, I reminded him that he had just joined the church. " Yes, Linda," said he. " It was proper for me to do so. I am getting in years, and my position in society requires it, and it puts an end to all the damned slang. You would do well to join the church, too, Linda."
" There are sinners enough in it already," re- joined I. " If I could be allowed to live like a Chris- tian, I should be glad."
" You can do what I require ; and if you are faithful to me, you will be as virtuous as my wife," he replied.
I answered that the Bible didn't say so. His voice became hoarse with rage. " How dare you preach to me about your infernal Bible ! " ho
li6 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
exclaimed. " What right have you, who are my negro, to talk to me about what you would like, and what you wouldn't like ? I am your master, and you shall obey me."
No wonder the slaves sing, —
" Ole Satan's church is here below ; Up to God's free church I hope to go."
Another Link to Life.
117
XIV.
ANOTHER LINK TO LIFE.
I had not returned to my master's house since the birth of my child. The old man raved to have me thus removed from his immediate power ; but his wife vowed, by all that was good and great, she would kill me if I came back ; and he did not doubt her word. Sometimes he would stay away for a season. Then he would come and renew the old threadbare discourse about his forbearance and my ingratitude. He la- bored, most unnecessarily, to convince me that I had lowered myself. The venomous old reprobate had no need of descanting on that theme. I felt humiliated enough. My unconscious babe was the ever-present witness of my shame. I listened with silent contempt when he talked about my having forfeited his good opinion ; but I shed bitter tears that I was no longer worthy of being respected by the good and pure. Alas ! slavery still held me in its poisonous grasp. There was no chance for me to be respectable. There was no prospect of being able to lead a better life.
Sometimes, when my master found that I still re- fused to accept what he called his kind offers, he would threaten to sell my child. " Perhaps that will humble you," said he.
Humble me ! Was I not already in the dust ? But his threat lacerated my heart. 1 knew the law gave him power to fulfil it ; for slaveholders have been
1 18 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
cunning enough to enact that " the child shall follow the condition of the mother" not of the father ; thus taking care that licentiousness shall not interfere with avarice. This reflection made me clasp my innocent babe all the more firmly to my heart. Horrid visions passed through my mind when I thought of his lia- bility to fall into the slave trader's hands. I wept over him, and said, " 0 my child ! perhaps they will leave you in some cold cabin to die, and then throw you into a hole, as if you were a dog."
When Dr. Flint learned that I was again to be a mother, he was exasperated beyond measure. He rushed from the house, and returned with a pair of shears. I had a fine head of hair ; and he often railed about my pride of arranging it nicely. He cut every hair close to my head, storming and swearing all the time. I replied to some of his abuse, and he struck me. Some months before, he had pitched me down stairs in a fit of passion ; and the injury I re- ceived was so serious that I was unable to turn myself in bed for many days. He then said, " Linda, I swear by God I will never raise my hand against you again ; " but I knew thgft he would forget his promise.
After he discovered my situation, he was like a restless spirit from the pit. He came every day ; and I was subjected to such insults as no pen can describe. I would not describe them if I could ; they were too low, too revolting. I tried to keep them from my grandmother's knowledge as much as I could. I knew she had enough to sadden her life, without having my troubles to bear. When she saw the doctor treat me with violence, and heard him utter
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oaths terrible enough to palsy a man's tongue, she could not always hold her peace. It was natural and motherlike that she should try to defend me ; but it only made matters worse.
When they told me my new-born babe was a girl, my heart was heavier than it had ever been before. Slavery is terrible for men ; but it is far more terrible for women. Superadded to the burden common to all, they have wrongs, and sufferings, and mortifica- tions peculiarly their own.
Dr. Flint had sworn that he would make me suffer, to my last day, for this new crime against him, as he called it ; and as long as he had me in his power he kept his word. On the fourth day after the birth of my babe, he entered my room suddenly, and commanded me to rise and bring my baby to him. The nurse who took care of me had gone out of the room to prepare some nourishment, and I was alone. There was no alternative. I rose, took up my babe, and crossed the room to where he sat. " Now stand there," said he, " till I tell you to go back ! " My child bore a strong resemblance to her father, and to the deceased Mrs. Sands, her grandmother. He noticed this ; and while I stood before him, trembling with weakness, he heaped iipon me and my little one every, vile epithet he could think of. Even the grandmother in her grave did not escape his curses. In the midst of his vituperations I fainted at his feet. This recalled him to his senses. He took the baby from my arms, laid it on the bed, dashed cold water in my face, took me up, and shook me violently, to restore my consciousness before any one entered the room. Just then my grandmother
120 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
came in, and he hurried out of the house. I suffered in consequence of this treatment ; but I begged my friends to let me die, rather than send for the doctor. There was nothing I dreaded so much as his presence. My life was spared ; and I was glad for the sake of my little ones. Had it not been for these ties to life, I should have been glad to be released by death, though I had lived only nineteen years.
Always it gave me a pang that my children had no lawful claim to a name. Their father offered his ; but, if I had wished to accept the offer, I dared not while my master lived. Moreover, I knew it would not be accepted at their baptism. A Christian name they were at least entitled to ; and we resolved to call my boy for our dear good Benjamin, who had gone far away from us.
My grandmother belonged to the church ; and she was very desirous of having the children christened. I knew Dr. Flint would forbid it, and I did not venture to attempt it. But chance favored me. He was called to visit a patient out of town, and was obliged to be absent during Sunday. " Now is the time," said my grandmother ; " we will take the chil- dren to church, and have them christened."
When I entered the church, recollections of my mother came over me, and I felt subdued in spirit. There she had presented me for baptism, without any reason to feel ashamed. She had been married, and had such legal rights as slavery allows to a slave. The vows had at least been sacred to her, and she had never violated them. I was glad she was not alive, to know under what different circumstances her grand-
Another Link to Life. 121
children were presented for baptism. Why had my lot been so different from my mother's ? Her master had died when she was a child ; and she remained with her mistress till she married. She was never in the power of any master ; and thus she escaped one class of the evils that generally fall upon slaves.
When my baby was about to be christened, the former mistress of my father stepped up to me. and proposed to give it her Christian name. To this I added the surname of my father, who had himself no legal right to it ; for my grandfather on the paternal side was a white gentleman. What tangled skeins are the genealogies of slavery ! I loved my father ; but it mortified me to be obliged to bestow his name on my children.
When we left the church, my father's old mistress invited me to go home with her. She clasped a gold chain round my baby's neck. I thanked her for this kindness ; but I did not like the emblem. I wanted no chain to be fastened on my daughter, not even if its links were of gold. How earnestly I prayed that she might never feel the weight of slavery's chain, whose iron entereth into the soul !
11
122 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
XV.
CONTINUED PERSECUTIONS.
My children grew finely ; and Dr. Flint would often say to me, with an exulting smile, " These brats will bring me a handsome sum of money one of these days."
I thought to myself that, God being my helper, they should never pass into his hands. It seemed to me I would rather see them killed than have them given up to his power. The money for the freedom of my- self and my children could be obtained ; but I de- rived no advantage from that circumstance. Dr. Flint loved money, but he loved power more. After much discussion, my friends resolved on making another trial. There was a slaveholder about to leave for Texas, and he was commissioned to buy me. He was to begin with nine hundred dollars, and go up to twelve. My master refused his offers. " Sir," said he, " she don't belong to me. She is my daughter's property, and I have no right to sell her. I mistrust that you come from her paramour. If so, you may tell him that he cannot buy her for any money ; neither can he buy her children."
The doctor came to "See me the next day, and my heart beat quicker as he entered. I never had seen the old man tread with so majestic a step. He seated him- self and looked at me with withering scorn. My chil- dren had learned to be afraid of him. The little one
Continued Perfecutions. 123
would shut her eyes and hide her face on my shoulder whenever she saw him; and Benny, who was now nearly five years old, often inquired, " What makes that bad man come here so many times ? Does he want to hurt us ?" I would clasp the dear boy in my arms, trusting that he would be free before he was old enough to solve the problem. And now, as the doctor sat there so grim and silent, the child left his play and came and nestled up by me. At last my tormentor spoke. " So you are left in disgust, are you ? " said he. " It is no more than I expected. You remember I told you years ago that you would be treated so. So he is tired of you ? Ha ! ha ! ha ! The virtuous madam don't like to hear about it, does she ? Ha ! ha ! ha ! " There was a sting in his calling me virtuous madam. I no longer had the power of answering him as I had formerly done. He continued : " So it seems you are trying to get up another intrigue. Your new paramour came to me, and offered to buy you ; but you may be assured you will not succeed. You are mine ; and you shall be mine for life. There lives no human being that can take you out of slavery. I would have done it ; but you rejected my kind offer."
I told him I did not wish to get up any intrigue ; that I had never seen the man who offered to buy me.
" Do you tell me I lie ? " exclaimed he, dragging me from my chair. " Will you say again that you never saw that man ? "
I answered, " I do say so."
He clinched my arm with a volley of oaths. Ben began to scream, and I told him to go to his grand- mother.
124 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
* Don't you stir a step, yon little wretch ! " said he. The child drew nearer to me, and put his arms round me, as if he wanted to protect me. This was too much for my enraged master. He caught him up and hurled him across the room. I thought he was dead, and rushed towards him to take him up.
" Not yet!" exclaimed the doctor. "Let him lie there till he comes to."
" Let me go ! Let me go ! " I screamed, " or I will raise the whole house." I struggled and got away ; but he clinched me again. Somebody opened the door, and he released me. I picked up my insensible child, and when I turned my tormentor was gone. Anxiously I bent over the little form, so pale and still ; and when the brown eyes at last opened, I don't know whether I was very happy.
All the doctor's former persecutions were renewed. He came morning, noon, and night. No jealous lover ever watched a rival more closely than he watched me and the unknown slaveholder, with whom he accused me of wishing to get up an intrigue. When my grand- mother was out of the way he searched every room to find him.
In one of his visits, he happened to find a young girl, whom he had sold to a trader a few days previous. His statement was, that he sold her because she had been too familiar with the overseer. She had had a bitter life with him, and was glad to be sold. She had no mother, and no near ties. She had been torn from all her family years before. A few friends had entered into bonds for her safety, if the trader would allow her to spend with them the time that intervened between
Continued Perfecutions.
125
her sale and the gathering up of his human stock. Such a favor was rarely granted. It saved the trader the expense of board and jail fees, and though the amount was small, it was a weighty consideration in a slave-trader's mind.
Dr. Flint always had an aversion to meeting slaves after he had sold them. He ordered Rose out of the house ; but he was no longer her master, and she took no notice of him. For once the crushed Rose was the conqueror. His gray eyes flashed angrily upon her ; but that was the extent of his power. " How came this girl here ? " he exclaimed. " What right had you to allow it, when you knew I had sold her ? "
I answered " This is my grandmother's house, and Rose came to see her. I have no right to turn any body out of doors, that comes here for honest purposes."
He gave me the blow that would have fallen upon Rose if she had still been his slave. My grandmoth- er's attention had been attracted by loud voices, and she entered in time to see a second blow dealt. She was not a woman to let such an outrage, in her own house, go unrebuked. The doctor undertook to ex- plain that I had been insolent. Her indignant feelings rose higher and higher, and finally boiled over in words. " Get out of my house ! " she exclaimed. " Go home, and take care of your wife and children, and you will have enough to do, without watching my family."
He threw the birth of my children in her face, and accused her of sanctioning the life I was leading. She told him I was living with her by compulsion of his wife ; that he needn't accuse her, for he was the one to blame ; he was the one who had caused all the
11*
126 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
trouble. She grew more and more excited as she went on. " I tell you what, Dr. Flint," said she, " you ain't got many more years to live, and you'd better be saying your prayers. It will take 'em all, and more too, to wash the dirt off your soul."
" Do you know whom you are talking to ? " he ex- claimed.
She replied, " Yes, I know very well who I am talk- ing to."
He left the house in a great rage. I looked at my grandmother. Our eyes met. Their angry expres- sion had passed away, but she looked sorrowful and weary — weary of incessant strife. I wondered that it did not lessen her love for me ; but if it did she never showed it. She was always kind, always ready to sympathize with my troubles. There might have been peace and contentment in that humble home if it had not been for the demon Slavery.
The winter passed undisturbed by the doctor. The beautiful spring came ; and when Nature resumes her loveliness, the human soul is apt to revive also. My drooping hopes came to life again with the flowers. I was dreaming of freedom again ; more for my children's sake than my own. I planned and I planned. Ob- stacles hit against plans. There seemed no way of overcoming them ; and yet I hoped.
Back came the wily doctor. I was not at home when he called. A friend had invited me to a small party, and to gratify her I went. To my great consternation, a messenger came in haste to say that Dr. Flint was at my grandmother's, and insisted on seeing me. They did not tell him where I was, or he would have come
Continued Persecutions.
127
and raised a disturbance in my friend's house. They sent me a dark wrapper ; I threw it on and hurried home. My speed did not save me ; the doctor had gone away in anger. I dreaded the morning, but I could not delay it ; it came, warm and bright. At an early hour the doctor came and asked me where I had been last night. I told him. He did not believe me, and sent to my friend's house to ascertain the facts. He came in the afternoon to assure me he was satisfied that I had spoken the truth. He seemed to be in a facetious mood, and I expected some jeers were coming. " I suppose you need some recreation," said he, " but I am surprised at your being there, among those negroes. It was not the place for you. Are you allowed to visit such people ? "
I understood this covert fling at the white gentleman who was my friend ; but I merely replied, " I went to visit my friends, and any company they keep is good enough for me."
He went on to say, " I have seen very little of you of late, but my interest in you is unchanged. When I said I would have no more mercy on you I was rash. I recall my words. Linda, you desire freedom for your- self and your children, and you can obtain it only through me. If you agree to what I am about to pro- pose, you and they shall be free. There must be no communication of any kind between you and their father. I will procure a cottage, where you and the children can live together. Your labor shall be light, such as sewing for my family. Think what is offered you, Linda — a home and freedom! Let the past 1x3 forgotten. If I have been harsh with you at times,
128 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
your wilfulness drove me to it. You know I exact obedience from my own children, and I consider you as yet a child."
He paused for an answer, but I remained silent.
" Why don't you speak ? " said he. " What more do you wait for ? "
" Nothing, sir."
" Then you accept my offer ? "
" No, sir."
His anger was ready to break loose ; but he succeeded in curbing it, and replied, " You have answered with- out thought. But I must let you know there are two sides to my proposition ; if you reject the bright side, you will be obliged to take the dark one. You must either accept my offer, or you and your children shall be sent to your young master's plantation, there to remain till your young mistress is married ; and your children shall fare like the rest of the negro children. I give you a week to consider of it."
He was shrewd ; but I knew he was not to be trusted. I told him I was ready to give my answer now.
" I will not receive it now," he replied. " You act too much from impulse. Remember that you and your children can be free a week from to-day if you choose."
On what a monstrous chance hung the destiny of my children ! I knew that my master's offer was a snare, and that if I entered it escape would be impos- sible. As for his promise, I knew him so well that I was sure if he gave me free papers, they would be so managed as to have no legal value. The alternative was inevitable. I resolved to go to the plantation. But then I thought how completely I should be in his
Continued Perfecutions. 129
power, and the prospect was apalling. Even if I should kneel before him, and implore him to spare me, for the sake of my children, I knew he would spurn me with his foot, and my weakness would be his triumph.
Before the week expired, I heard that young Mr. Flint was about to be married to a lady of his own stamp. I foresaw the position I should occupy in his establishment. I had once been sent to the plantation for punishment, and fear of the son had induced the father to recall me very soon. My mind was made up ; I was resolved that I would foil my master and save my children, or I would perish in the attempt. I kept my plans to myself ; I knew that friends would try to dissuade me from them, and I would not wound their feelings by rejecting their advice.
On the decisive day the doctor came, and said he hoped I had made a wise choice.
" I am ready to go to the plantation, sir," I replied.
" Have you thought how important your decision is to your children ? " said he.
I told him I had.
" Very well. Go to the plantation, and my curse go with you," he replied. " Your boy shall be put to work, and he shall soon be sold ; and your girl shall be raised for the purpose of selling well. Go your own ways!" He left the room with curses, not to be re- peated.
As I stood rooted to the spot, my grandmother came and said, " Linda, child, what did you tell him ? 99
I answered that I was going to the plantation.
" Must you go ? " said she. " Can't something be done to stop it ? "
130 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
I told her it was useless to try ; but she begged me not to give up. She said she would go to the doctor, and remind him how long and how faithfully she had served in the family, and how she had taken her own baby from her breast to nourish his wife. She would tell him I had been out of the family so long they would not miss me ; that she would pay them for my time, and the money would procure a woman who had more strength for the situation than I had. I begged her not to go ; but she persisted in saying, " He will listen to me, Linda. " She went, and was treated as I ex- pected. He coolly listened to what she said, but denied her request. He told her that what he did was for my good, that my feelings were entirely above my situa- tion, and that on the plantation I would receive treat- ment that was suitable to my behavior.
My grandmother was much cast down. I had my . secret hopes ; but I must fight my battle alone. I had a woman's pride, and a mother's love for my children ; and I resolved that out of the darkness of this hour a brighter dawn should rise for them. My master had power and law on his side ; I had a determined will. There is might in each.
Scenes at the Plantation.
XVI.
• SCENES AT THE PLANTATION.
Early the next morning I left my grandmother's with my youngest child. My boy was ill, and I left him behind. I had many sad thoughts as the old wagon jolted on. Hitherto, I had suffered alone ; now, my little one was to be treated as a slave. As we drew near the great house, I thought