No More Learning

--Events of our journey. _


Most of the inmates of this prison I have described, were white men
who had been sentenced there by the law, for depredations committed by
them. There was in that prison, gamblers, drunkards, thieves, robbers,
adulterers, and even murderers. There were also in the female
department, harlots, pick-pockets, and adulteresses. In such company,
and under such influences, where there was constant swearing, lying,
cheating, and stealing, it was almost impossible for a virtuous person
to avoid pollution, or to maintain their virtue. No place or places in
this country can be better calculated to inculcate vice of every kind
than a Southern work house or house of correction.

After a profligate, thief, or a robber, has learned all that they can
out of the prison, they might go in one of those prisons and learn
something more--they might properly be called robber colleges; and if
slaveholders understood this they would never let their slaves enter
them. No man would give much for a slave who had been kept long in one
of these prisons.

I have often heard them telling each other how they robbed houses, and
persons on the high way, by knocking them down, and would rob them,
pick their pockets, and leave them half dead. Others would tell of
stealing horses, cattle, sheep, and slaves; and when they would be
sometimes apprehended, by the aid of their friends, they would break
jail. But they could most generally find enough to swear them clear of
any kind of villany. They seemed to take great delight in telling of
their exploits in robbery. There was a regular combination of them who
had determined to resist law, wherever they went, to carry out their
purposes.

In conversing with myself, they learned that I was notorious for
running away, and professed sympathy for me. They thought that I
might yet get to Canada, and be free, and suggested a plan by which I
might accomplish it; and one way was, to learn to read and write, so
that I might write myself a pass ticket, to go just where I pleased,
when I was taken out of the prison; and they taught me secretly all
they could while in the prison.

But there was another plan which they suggested to me to get away from
slavery; that was to break out of the prison and leave my family. I
consented to engage in this plot, but not to leave my family.

By my conduct in the prison, after having been there several weeks, I
had gained the confidence of the keeper, and the turnkey. So much so,
that when I wanted water or anything of the kind, they would open my
door and hand it in to me. One of the turnkeys was an old colored man,
who swept and cleaned up the cells, supplied the prisoners with water,
&c.

On Sundays in the afternoon, the watchmen of the prison were most
generally off, and this old slave, whose name was Stephen, had the
prisoners to attend to. The white prisoners formed a plot to break out
on Sunday in the afternoon, by making me the agent to get the prison
keys from old Stephen.

I was to prepare a stone that would weigh about one pound, tie it up
in a rag, and keep it in my pocket to strike poor old Stephen with,
when he should open my cell door. But this I would not consent to do,
without he should undertake to betray me.

I gave old Stephen one shilling to buy me a water melon, which he was
to bring to me in the afternoon. All the prisoners were to be ready to
strike, just as soon as I opened their doors. When Stephen opened my
door to hand me the melon, I was to grasp him by the collar, raise the
stone over his head, and say to him, that if he made any alarm that I
should knock him down with the stone. But if he would be quiet he
should not be hurt. I was then to take all the keys from him, and lock
him up in the cell--take a chisel and cut the chain from my own leg,
then unlock all the cells below, and let out the other prisoners, who
were all to cut off their chains. We were then to go and let out old
Stephen, and make him go off with us. We were to form a line and march
to the front gate of the prison with a sledge hammer, and break it
open, and if we should be discovered, and there should be any out-cry,
we were all to run and raise the alarm of fire, so as to avoid
detection. But while we were all listening for Stephen to open the
door with the melon, he came and reported that he could not get one,
and handed me back the money through the window. All were
disappointed, and nothing done. I looked upon it as being a fortunate
thing for me, for it was certainly a very dangerous experiment for a
slave, and they could never get me to consent to be the leader in that
matter again.

A few days after, another plot was concocted to to break prison, but
it was betrayed by one of the party, which resulted in the most cruel
punishment to the prisoners concerned in it; and I felt thankful that
my name was not connected with it. They were not only flogged, but
they were kept on bread and water alone, for many days. A few days
after we were put in this prison, Garrison came and took my wife and
child out, I knew not for what purpose, nor to what place, but after
the absence of several days I supposed that he had sold them. But one
morning, the outside door was thrown open, and Malinda thrust in by
the ruthless hand of Garrison, whose voice was pouring forth the most
bitter oaths and abusive language that could be dealt out to a female;
while her heart-rending shrieks and sobbing, was truly melting to the
soul of a father and husband.

The language of Malinda was, "Oh! my dear little child is gone? What
shall I do? my child is gone. " This most distressing sound struck a
sympathetic chord through all the prison among the prisoners. I was
not permitted to go to my wife and inquire what had become of little
Frances. I never expected to see her again, for I supposed that she
was sold.

That night, however, I had a short interview with my much abused wife,
who told me the secret. She said that Garrison had taken her to a
private house where he kept female slaves for the basest purposes. It
was a resort for slave trading profligates and soul drivers, who were
interested in the same business.

Soon after she arrived at this place, Garrison gave her to understand
what he brought her there for, and made a most disgraceful assault on
her virtue, which she promptly repeled; and for which Garrison
punished her with the lash, threatening her that if she did not submit
that he would sell her child. The next day he made the same attempt,
which she resisted, declaring that she would not submit to it; and
again he tied her up and flogged her until her garments were stained
with blood.

He then sent our child off to another part of the city, and said he
meant to sell it, and that she should never see it again. He then
drove Malinda before him to the work-house, swearing by his Maker that
she should submit to him or die. I have already described her entrance
in the prison.

Two days after this he came again and took Malinda out of the prison.
It was several weeks before I saw her again, and learned that he had
not sold her or the child. At the same time he was buying up other
slaves to take to New Orleans. At the expiration of three months he
was ready to start with us for the New Orleans slave market, but we
never knew when we were to go, until the hour had arrived for our
departure.

One Sabbath morning Garrison entered the prison and commanded that our
limbs should be made ready for the coffles. They called us up to an
anvill block, and the heavy log chains which we had been wearing on
our legs during three months, were cut off. I had been in the prison
over three months; but he had other slaves who had not been there so
long. The hand-cuffs were then put on to our wrists. We were coupled
together two and two--the right hand of one to the left hand of
another, and a long chain to connect us together.

The other prisoners appeared to be sorry to see us start off in this
way. We marched off to the river Ohio, to take passage on board of the
steamboat Water Witch. But this was at a very low time of water, in
the fall of 1839. The boat got aground, and did not get off that
night; and Garrison had to watch us all night to keep any from getting
away. He also had a very large savage dog, which was trained up to
catch runaway slaves.

We were more than six weeks getting to the city of New Orleans, in
consequence of low water. We were shifted on to several boats before
we arrived at the mouth of the river Ohio. But we got but very little
rest at night. As all were chained together night and day, it was
impossible to sleep, being annoyed by the bustle and crowd of the
passengers on board; by the terrible thought that we were destined to
be sold in market as sheep or oxen; and annoyed by the galling chains
that cramped our wearied limbs on the tedious voyage. But I had
several opportunities to have run away from Garrison before we got to
the mouth of the Ohio river. While they were shifting us from one boat
to another, my hands were some times loosed, until they got us all on
board--and I know that I should have broke away had it not been for
the sake of my wife and child who was with me. I could see no chance
to get them off, and I could not leave them in that condition--and
Garrison was not so much afraid of my running away from him while he
held on to my family, for he knew from the great sacrifices which I
had made to rescue them from slavery, that my attachment was too
strong to run off and leave them in his hands, while there was the
least hope of ever getting them away with me.




CHAPTER IX.

_Our arrival and examination at Vicksburg. --An account of slave
sales. --Cruel punishment with the paddle. --Attempts to sell myself by
Garrison's direction. --Amusing interview with a slave buyer. --Deacon
Whitfield's examination. --He purchases the family. --Character of the
Deacon. _


When we arrived at the city of Vicksburg, he intended to sell a
portion of his slaves there, and stopped for three weeks trying to
sell. But he met with very poor success.

We had there to pass through an examination or inspection by a city
officer, whose business it was to inspect slave property that was
brought to that market for sale. He examined our backs to see if we
had been much scarred by the lash. He examined our limbs, to see
whether we were inferior.

As it is hard to tell the ages of slaves, they look in their mouths at
their teeth, and prick up the skin on the back of their hands, and if
the person is very far advanced in life, when the skin is pricked up,
the pucker will stand so many seconds on the back of the hand.

But the most rigorous examinations of slaves by those slave
inspectors, is on the mental capacity. If they are found to be very
intelligent, this is pronounced the most objectionable of all other
qualities connected with the life of a slave. In fact, it undermines
the whole fabric of his chattelhood; it prepares for what slaveholders
are pleased to pronounce the unpardonable sin when committed by a
slave. It lays the foundation for running away, and going to Canada.
They also see in it a love for freedom, patriotism, insurrection,
bloodshed, and exterminating war against American slavery.

Hence they are very careful to inquire whether a slave who is for sale
can read or write. This question has been asked me often by slave
traders, and cotton planters, while I was there for market. After
conversing with me, they have sworn by their Maker, that they would
not have me among their negroes; and that they saw the devil in my
eye; I would run away, &c.

I have frequently been asked also, if I had ever run away; but
Garrison would generally answer this question for me in the negative.
He could have sold my little family without any trouble, for the sum
of one thousand dollars. But for fear he might not get me off at so
great an advantage, as the people did not like my appearance, he could
do better by selling us all together. They all wanted my wife, while
but very few wanted me. He asked for me and my family twenty-five
hundred dollars, but was not able to get us off at that price.

He tried to speculate on my Christian character. He tried to make it
appear that I was so pious and honest that I would not runaway for ill
treatment; which was a gross mistake, for I never had religion enough
to keep me from running away from slavery in my life.

But we were taken from Vicksburgh, to the city of New Orleans, were we
were to be sold at any rate. We were taken to a trader's yard or a
slave prison on the corner of St. Joseph street. This was a common
resort for slave traders, and planters who wanted to buy slaves; and
all classes of slaves were kept there for sale, to be sold in private
or public--young or old, males or females, children or parents,
husbands or wives.

Every day at 10 o'clock they were exposed for sale. They had to be in
trim for showing themselves to the public for sale. Every one's head
had to be combed, and their faces washed, and those who were inclined
to look dark and rough, were compelled to wash in greasy dish water,
in order to make them look slick and lively.

When spectators would come in the yard, the slaves were ordered out to
form a line. They were made to stand up straight, and look as
sprightly as they could; and when they were asked a question, they had
to answer it as promptly as they could, and try to induce the
spectators to buy them. If they failed to do this, they were severely
paddled after the spectators were gone. The object for using the
paddle in the place of a lash was, to conceal the marks which would be
made by the flogging. And the object for flogging under such
circumstances, is to make the slaves anxious to be sold.

The paddle is made of a piece of hickory timber, about one inch thick,
three inches in width, and about eighteen inches in length. The part
which is applied to the flesh is bored full of quarter inch auger
holes; and every time this is applied to the flesh of the victim, the
blood gushes through the holes of the paddle, or a blister makes its
appearance. The persons who are thus flogged, are always stripped
naked, and their hands tied together. They are then bent over double,
their knees are forced between their elbows, and a stick is put
through between the elbows and the bend of the legs, in order to hold
the victim in that position, while the paddle is applied to those
parts of the body which would not be so likely to be seen by those who
wanted to buy slaves.

I was kept in this prison for several months, and no one would buy me
for fear I would run away. One day while I was in this prison,
Garrison got mad with my wife, and took her off in one of the rooms,
with his paddle in hand, swearing that he would paddle her; and I
could afford her no protection at all, while the strong arm of the
law, public opinion and custom, were all against me. I have often
heard Garrison say, that he had rather paddle a female, than eat when
he was hungry--that it was music for him to hear them scream, and to
see their blood run.

After the lapse of several months, he found that he could not dispose
of my person to a good advantage, while he kept me in that prison
confined among the other slaves. I do not speak with vanity when I say
the contrast was so great between myself and ordinary slaves, from the
fact that I had enjoyed superior advantages, to which I have already
referred. They have their slaves classed off and numbered.

Garrison came to me one day and informed me that I might go out
through the city and find myself a master. I was to go to the Hotels,
boarding houses, &c. --tell them that my wife was a good cook,
wash-woman, &c,--and that I was a good dining room servant, carriage
driver, or porter--and in this way I might find some gentleman who
would buy us both; and that this was the only hope of our being sold
together.

But before starting me out, he dressed me up in a suit of his old
clothes, so as to make me look respectable, and I was so much better
dressed than usual that I felt quite gay. He would not allow my wife
to go out with me however, for fear we might get away. I was out every
day for several weeks, three or four hours in each day, trying to
find a new master, but without success.

Many of the old French inhabitants have taken slaves for their wives,
in this city, and their own children for their servants. Such commonly
are called Creoles. They are better treated than other slaves, and I
resembled this class in appearance so much that the French did not
want me. Many of them set their mulatto children free, and make
slaveholders of them.

At length one day I heard that there was a gentleman in the city from
the State of Tennessee, to buy slaves. He had brought down two rafts
of lumber for market, and I thought if I could get him to buy me with
my family, and take us to Tennessee, from there, I would stand a
better opportunity to run away again and get to Canada, than I would
from the extreme South.

So I brushed up myself and walked down to the river's bank, where the
man was pointed out to me standing on board of his raft, I approached
him, and after passing the usual compliments I said:

"Sir, I understand that you wish to purchase a lot of servants and I
have called to know if it is so. "

He smiled and appeared to be much pleased at my visit on such laudable
business, supposing me to be a slave trader. He commenced rubbing his
hands together, and replied by saying: "Yes sir, I am glad to see you.
It is a part of my business here to buy slaves, and if I could get you
to take my lumber in part pay I should like to buy four or five of
your slaves at any rate. What kind of slaves have you, sir? "

After I found that he took me to be a slave trader I knew that it
would be of no use for me to tell him that I was myself a slave
looking for a master, for he would have doubtless brought up the same
objection that others had brought up,--that I was too white; and that
they were afraid that I could read and write; and would never serve as
a slave, but run away. My reply to the question respecting the quality
of my slaves was, that I did not think his lumber would suit me--that
I must have the cash for my negroes, and turned on my heel and left
him!

I returned to the prison and informed my wife of the fact that I had
been taken to be a slaveholder. She thought that in addition to my
light complexion my being dressed up in Garrison's old slave trading
clothes might have caused the man to think that I was a slave trader,
and she was afraid that we should yet be separated if I should not
succeed in finding some body to buy us.

Every day to us was a day of trouble, and every night brought new and
fearful apprehensions that the golden link which binds together
husband and wife might be broken by the heartless tyrant before the
light of another day.

Deep has been the anguish of my soul when looking over my little
family during the silent hours of the night, knowing the great danger
of our being sold off at auction the next day and parted forever. That
this might not come to pass, many have been the tears and prayers
which I have offered up to the God of Israel that we might be
preserved.

While waiting here to be disposed of, I heard of one Francis
Whitfield, a cotton planter, who wanted to buy slaves. He was
represented to be a very pious soul, being a deacon of a Baptist
church. As the regulations, as well as public opinion generally, were
against slaves meeting for religious worship, I thought it would give
me a better opportunity to attend to my religious duties should I fall
into the hands of this deacon.

So I called on him and tried to show to the best advantage, for the
purpose of inducing him to buy me and my family. When I approached
him, I felt much pleased at his external appearance--I addressed him
in the following words as well as I can remember:

"Sir, I understand you are desirous of purchasing slaves? "

With a very pleasant smile, he replied, "Yes, I do want to buy some,
are you for sale? "

"Yes sir, with my wife and one child. "

Garrison had given me a note to show wherever I went, that I was for
sale, speaking of my wife and child, giving us a very good character
of course--and I handed him the note.

After reading it over he remarked, "I have a few questions to ask you,
and if you will tell me the truth like a good boy, perhaps I may buy
you with your family. In the first place, my boy, you are a little too
near white. I want you to tell me now whether you can read or write? "

My reply was in the negative.

"Now I want you to tell me whether you have run away? Don't tell me no
stories now, like a good fellow, and perhaps I may buy you. "

But as I was not under oath to tell him the whole truth, I only gave
him a part of it, by telling him that I had run away once.

He appeared to be pleased at that, but cautioned me to tell him the
truth, and asked me how long I stayed away, when I run off?

I told him that I was gone a month.

He assented to this by a bow of his head, and making a long grunt
saying, "That's right, tell me the truth like a good boy. "

The whole truth was that I had been off in the state of Ohio, and
other free states, and even to Canada; besides this I was notorious
for running away, from my boyhood.

I never told him that I had been a runaway longer than one
month--neither did I tell him that I had not run away more than once
in my life; for these questions he never asked me.

I afterwards found him to be one of the basest hypocrites that I ever
saw. He looked like a saint--talked like the best of slave holding
Christians, and acted at home like the devil.

When he saw my wife and child, he concluded to buy us. He paid for me
twelve hundred dollars, and one thousand for my wife and child. He
also bought several other slaves at the same time, and took home with
him. His residence was in the parish of Claiborn, fifty miles up from
the mouth of Red River.

When we arrived there, we found his slaves poor, ragged, stupid, and
half-starved. The food he allowed them per week, was one peck of corn
for each grown person, one pound of pork, and sometimes a quart of
molasses. This was all that they were allowed, and if they got more
they stole it.

He had one of the most cruel overseers to be found in that section of
country. He weighed and measured out to them, their week's allowance
of food every Sabbath morning. The overseer's horn was sounded two
hours before daylight for them in the morning, in order that they
should be ready for work before daylight. They were worked from
daylight until after dark, without stopping but one half hour to eat
or rest, which was at noon. And at the busy season of the year, they
were compelled to work just as hard on the Sabbath, as on any other
day.




CHAPTER X.

_Cruel treatment on Whitfield's farm--Exposure of the children--Mode
of extorting extra labor--Neglect of the sick--Strange medicine
used--Death of our second child. _


My first impressions when I arrived on the Deacon's farm, were that he
was far more like what the people call the devil, than he was like a
deacon. Not many days after my arrival there, I heard the Deacon tell
one of the slave girls, that he had bought her for a wife for his boy
Stephen, which office he compelled her fully to perform against her
will. This he enforced by a threat. At first the poor girl neglected
to do this, having no sort of affection for the man--but she was
finally forced to it by an application of the driver's lash, as
threatened by the Deacon.

The next thing I observed was that he made the slave driver strip his
own wife, and flog her for not doing just as her master had ordered.
He had a white overseer, and a colored man for a driver, whose
business it was to watch and drive the slaves in the field, and do the
flogging according to the orders of the overseer.

Next a mulatto girl who waited about the house, on her mistress,
displeased her, for which the Deacon stripped and tied her up. He then
handed me the lash and ordered me to put it on--but I told him I never
had done the like, and hoped he would not compel me to do it. He then
informed me that I was to be his overseer, and that he had bought me
for that purpose. He was paying a man eight hundred dollars a year to
oversee, and he believed I was competent to do the same business, and
if I would do it up right he would put nothing harder on me to do; and
if I knew not how to flog a slave, he would set me an example by which
I might be governed. He then commenced on this poor girl, and gave her
two hundred lashes before he had her untied.

After giving her fifty lashes, he stopped and lectured her a while,
asking her if she thought that she could obey her mistress, &c. She
promised to do all in her power to please him and her mistress, if he
would have mercy on her. But this plea was all vain.
He commenced on
her again; and this flogging was carried on in the most inhuman manner
until she had received two hundred stripes on her naked quivering
flesh, tied up and exposed to the public gaze of all. And this was the
example that I was to copy after.

He then compelled me to wash her back off with strong salt brine,
before she was untied, which was so revolting to my feelings, that I
could not refrain from shedding tears.

For some cause he never called on me again to flog a slave. I presume
he saw that I was not savage enough. The above were about the first
items of the Deacon's conduct which struck me with peculiar disgust.

After having enjoyed the blessings of civil and religious liberty for
a season, to be dragged into that horrible place with my family, to
linger out my existence without the aid of religious societies, or the
light of revelation, was more than I could endure. I really felt as if
I had got into one of the darkest corners of the earth. I thought I
was almost out of humanity's reach, and should never again have the
pleasure of hearing the gospel sound, as I could see no way by which I
could extricate myself; yet I never omitted to pray for deliverance. I
had faith to believe that the Lord could see our wrongs and hear our
cries.

I was not used quite as bad as the regular field hands, as the greater
part of my time was spent working about the house; and my wife was the
cook.

This country was full of pine timber, and every slave had to prepare a
light wood torch, over night, made of pine knots, to meet the overseer
with, before daylight in the morning. Each person had to have his
torch lit, and come with it in his hand to the gin house, before the
overseer and driver, so as to be ready to go to the cotton field by
the time they could see to pick out cotton. These lights looked
beautiful at a distance.

The object of blowing the horn for them two hours before day, was,
that they should get their bite to eat, before they went to the field,
that they need not stop to eat but once during the day. Another object
was, to do up their flogging which had been omitted over night. I have
often heard the sound of the slave driver's lash on the backs, of the
slaves and their heart-rending shrieks, which were enough to melt the
heart of humanity, even among the most barbarous nations of the
earth.

But the Deacon would keep no overseer on his plantation, who neglected
to perform this every morning. I have heard him say that he was no
better pleased than when he could hear the overseer's loud complaining
voice, long before daylight in the morning, and the sound of the
driver's lash among the toiling slaves.

This was a very warm climate, abounding with musquitoes, galinippers
and other insects which were exceedingly annoying to the poor slaves
by night and day, at their quarters and in the field. But more
especially to their helpless little children, which they had to carry
with them to the cotton fields, where they had to set on the damp
ground alone from morning till night, exposed to the scorching rays of
the sun, liable to be bitten by poisonous rattle snakes which are
plenty in that section of the country, or to be devoured by large
alligators, which are often seen creeping through the cotton fields
going from swamp to swamp seeking their prey.

The cotton planters generally, never allow a slave mother time to go
to the house, or quarter during the day to nurse her child; hence they
have to carry them to the cotton fields and tie them in the shade of a
tree, or in clusters of high weeds about in the fields, where they can
go to them at noon, when they are allowed to stop work for one half
hour. This is the reason why so very few slave children are raised on
these cotton plantations, the mothers have no time to take care of
them--and they are often found dead in the field and in the quarter
for want of the care of their mothers. But I never was eye witness to
a case of this kind but have heard many narrated by my slave brothers
and sisters, some of which occurred on the deacon's plantation.

Their plan of getting large quantities of cotton picked is not only to
extort it from them by the lash, but hold out an inducement and
deceive them by giving small prizes. For example; the overseer will
offer something worth one or two dollars to any slave who will pick
out the most cotton in one day, dividing the hands off in three
classes and offering a prize to the one who will pick out the most
cotton in each of the classes. By this means they are all interested
in trying to get the prize.

After making them try it over several times and weighing what cotton
they pick every night, the overseer can tell just how much every hand
can pick. He then gives the present to those that pick the most
cotton, and then if they do not pick just as much afterward they are
flogged.

I have known the slaves to be so much fatigued from labor that they
could scarcely get to their lodging places from the field at night.
And then they would have to prepare something to eat before they could
lie down to rest. Their corn they had to grind on a hand mill for
bread stuff, or pound it in a mortar; and by the time they would get
their suppers it would be midnight; then they would herd down all
together and take but two or three hours rest, before the overseer's
horn called them up again to prepare for the field.

At the time of sickness among slaves they had but very little
attention. The master was to be the judge of their sickness, but never
had studied the medical profession. He always pronounced a slave who
said he was sick, a liar and a hypocrite; said there was nothing the
matter, and he only wanted to keep from work.

His remedy was most generally strong red pepper tea, boiled till it
was red. He would make them drink a pint cup full of it at one dose.
If he should not get better very soon after it, the dose was repeated.
If that should not accomplish the object for which it was given, or
have the desired effect, a pot or kettle was then put over the fire
with a large quantity of chimney soot, which was boiled down until it
was as strong as the juice of tobacco, and the poor sick slave was
compelled to drink a quart of it.

This would operate on the system like salts, or castor oil. But if the
slave should not be very ill, he would rather work as long as he could
stand up, than to take this dreadful medicine.

If it should be a very valuable slave, sometimes a physician was sent
for and something done to save him. But no special aid is afforded the
suffering slave even in the last trying hour, when he is called to
grapple with the grim monster death. He has no Bible, no family altar,
no minister to address to him the consolations of the gospel, before
he launches into the spirit world. As to the burial of slaves, but
very little more care is taken of their dead bodies than if they were
dumb beasts.

My wife was very sick while we were both living with the Deacon. We
expected every day would be her last. While she was sick, we lost our
second child, and I was compelled to dig my own child's grave and bury
it myself without even a box to put it in.




CHAPTER XI.

_I attend a prayer meeting. --Punishment therefor threatened. --I
attempt to escape alone. --My return to take my family. --Our
sufferings. --Dreadful attack of wolves. --Our recapture. _


Some months after Malinda had recovered from her sickness, I got
permission from the Deacon, on one Sabbath day, to attend a prayer
meeting, on a neighboring plantation, with a few old superannuated
slaves, although this was contrary to the custom of the country--for
slaves were not allowed to assemble for religious worship. Being more
numerous than the whites there was fear of rebellion, and the
overpowering of their oppressors in order to obtain freedom.

But this gentleman on whose plantation I attended the meeting was not
a Deacon nor a professor of religion. He was not afraid of a few old
Christian slaves rising up to kill their master because he allowed
them to worship God on the Sabbath day.

We had a very good meeting, although our exercises were not conducted
in accordance with an enlightened Christianity; for we had no
Bible--no intelligent leader--but a conscience, prompted by our own
reason, constrained us to worship God the Creator of all things.

When I returned home from meeting I told the other slaves what a good
time we had at our meeting, and requested them to go with me to
meeting there on the next Sabbath. As no slave was allowed to go from
the plantation on a visit without a written pass from his master, on
the next Sabbath several of us went to the Deacon, to get permission
to attend that prayer meeting; but he refused to let any go. I thought
I would slip off and attend the meeting and get back before he would
miss me, and would not know that I had been to the meeting.

When I returned home from the meeting as I approached the house I saw
Malinda, standing out at the fence looking in the direction in which I
was expected to return. She hailed my approach, not with joy, but with
grief. She was weeping under great distress of mind, but it was hard
for me to extort from her the reason why she wept. She finally
informed me that her master had found out that I had violated his law,
and I should suffer the penalty, which was five hundred lashes, on my
naked back.

I asked her how he knew that I had gone?

She said I had not long been gone before he called for me and I was
not to be found. He then sent the overseer on horseback to the place
where we were to meet to see if I was there. But when the overseer got
to the place, the meeting was over and I had gone back home, but had
gone a nearer route through the woods and the overseer happened not to
meet me. He heard that I had been there and hurried back home before
me and told the Deacon, who ordered him to take me on the next
morning, strip off my clothes, drive down four stakes in the ground
and fasten my limbs to them; then strike me five hundred lashes for
going to the prayer meeting. This was what distressed my poor
companion. She thought it was more than I could bear, and that it
would be the death of me. I concluded then to run away--but she
thought they would catch me with the blood hounds by their taking my
track. But to avoid them I thought I would ride off on one of the
Deacon's mules. She thought if I did, they would sell me.

"No matter, I will try it," said I, "let the consequences be what they
may. The matter can be no worse than it now is. " So I tackled up the
Deacon's best mule with his saddle, &c. , and started that night and
went off eight or ten miles from home. But I found the mule to be
rather troublesome, and was like to betray me by braying, especially
when he would see cattle, horses, or any thing of the kind in the
woods.

The second night from home I camped in a cane break down in the Red
river swamp not a great way off from the road, perhaps not twenty
rods, exposed to wild ferocious beasts which were numerous in that
section of country. On that night about the middle of the night the
mule heard the sound of horses feet on the road, and he commenced
stamping and trying to break away. As the horses seemed to come
nearer, the mule commenced trying to bray, and it was all that I could
do to prevent him from making a loud bray there in the woods, which
would have betrayed me.

I supposed that it was the overseer out with the dogs looking for me,
and I found afterwards that I was not mistaken. As soon as the people
had passed by, I mounted the mule and took him home to prevent his
betraying me. When I got near by home I stripped off the tackling and
turned the mule loose. I then slipt up to the cabin wherein my wife
laid and found her awake, much distressed about me. She informed me
that they were then out looking for me, and that the Deacon was bent
on flogging me nearly to death, and then selling me off from my
family. This was truly heart-rending to my poor wife; the thought of
our being torn apart in a strange land after having been sold away
from all her friends and relations, was more than she could bear.

The Deacon had declared that I should not only suffer for the crime of
attending a prayer meeting without his permission, and for running
away, but for the awful crime of stealing a jackass, which was death
by the law when committed by a negro.

But I well knew that I was regarded as property, and so was the ass;
and I thought if one piece of property took off another, there could
be no law violated in the act; no more sin committed in this than if
one jackass had rode off another.

But after consultation with my wife I concluded to take her and my
little daughter with me and they would be guilty of the same crime
that I was, so far as running away was concerned; and if the Deacon
sold one he might sell us all, and perhaps to the same person.

So we started off with our child that night, and made our way down to
the Red river swamps among the buzzing insects and wild beasts of the
forest. We wandered about in the wilderness for eight or ten days
before we were apprehended, striving to make our way from slavery; but
it was all in vain. Our food was parched corn, with wild fruit such as
pawpaws, percimmons, grapes, &c. We did at one time chance to find a
sweet potato patch where we got a few potatoes; but most of the time,
while we were out, we were lost. We wanted to cross the Red river but
could find no conveyance to cross in.

I recollect one day of finding a crooked tree which bent over the
river or over one fork of the river, where it was divided by an
island. I should think that the tree was at least twenty feet from
the surface of the water. I picked up my little child, and my wife
followed me, saying, "if we perish let us all perish together in the
stream. " We succeeded in crossing over. I often look back to that
dangerous event even now with astonishment, and wonder how I could
have run such a risk. What would induce me to run the same risk now?
What could induce me now to leave home and friends and go to the wild
forest and lay out on the cold ground night after night without
covering, and live on parched corn?

What would induce me to take my family and go into the Red river
swamps of Louisiana among the snakes and alligators, with all the
liabilities of being destroyed by them, hunted down with blood hounds,
or lay myself liable to be shot down like the wild beasts of the
forest? Nothing I say, nothing but the strongest love of liberty,
humanity, and justice to myself and family, would induce me to run
such a risk again.

When we crossed over on the tree we supposed that we had crossed over
the main body of the river, but we had not proceeded far on our
journey before we found that we were on an Island surrounded by water
on either side. We made our bed that night in a pile of dry leaves
which had fallen from off the trees. We were much rest-broken,
wearied from hunger and travelling through briers, swamps and
cane-brakes--consequently we soon fell asleep after lying down. About
the dead hour of the night I was aroused by the awful howling of a
gang of blood-thirsty wolves, which had found us out and surrounded us
as their prey, there in the dark wilderness many miles from any house
or settlement.

My dear little child was so dreadfully alarmed that she screamed
loudly with fear--my wife trembling like a leaf on a tree, at the
thought of being devoured there in the wilderness by ferocious wolves.

The wolves kept howling, and were near enough for us to see their
glaring eyes, and hear their chattering teeth. I then thought that the
hour of death for us was at hand; that we should not live to see the
light of another day; for there was no way for our escape. My little
family were looking up to me for protection, but I could afford them
none. And while I was offering up my prayers to that God who never
forsakes those in the hour of danger who trust in him, I thought of
Deacon Whitfield; I thought of his profession, and doubted his piety.
I thought of his hand-cuffs, of his whips, of his chains, of his
stocks, of his thumb-screws, of his slave driver and overseer, and of
his religion; I also thought of his opposition to prayer meetings, and
of his five hundred lashes promised me for attending a prayer meeting.
I thought of God, I thought of the devil, I thought of hell; and I
thought of heaven, and wondered whether I should ever see the Deacon
there. And I calculated that if heaven was made up of such Deacons, or
such persons, it could not be filled with love to all mankind, and
with glory and eternal happiness, as we know it is from the truth of
the Bible.

The reader may perhaps think me tedious on this topic, but indeed it
is one of so much interest to me, that I find myself entirely unable
to describe what my own feelings were at that time. I was so much
excited by the fierce howling of the savage wolves, and the frightful
screams of my little family, that I thought of the future; I thought
of the past; I thought the time of my departure had come at last.

My impression is, that all these thoughts and thousands of others,
flashed through my mind, while I was surrounded by those wolves. But
it seemed to be the will of a merciful providence, that our lives
should be spared, and that we should not be destroyed by them.

I had no weapon of defence but a long bowie knife which I had slipped
from the Deacon. It was a very splendid blade, about two feet in
length, and about two inches in width. This used to be a part of his
armor of defence while walking about the plantation among his slaves.

The plan which I took to expel the wolves was a very dangerous one,
but it proved effectual. While they were advancing to me, prancing and
accumulating in number, apparently of all sizes and grades, who had
come to the feast, I thought just at this time, that there was no
alternative left but for me to make a charge with my bowie knife. I
well knew from the action of the wolves, that if I made no farther
resistance, they would soon destroy us, and if I made a break at them,
the matter could be no worse. I thought if I must die, I would die
striving to protect my little family from destruction, die striving
to escape from slavery. My wife took a club in one hand, and her child
in the other, while I rushed forth with my bowie knife in hand, to
fight off the savage wolves. I made one desperate charge at them, and
at the same time making a loud yell at the top of my voice, that
caused them to retreat and scatter, which was equivalent to a victory
on our part. Our prayers were answered, and our lives spared through
the night. We slept no more that night, and the next morning there
were no wolves to be seen or heard, and we resolved not to stay on
that island another night.

We travelled up and down the river side trying to find a place where
we could cross. Finally we found a lot of drift wood clogged together,
extending across the stream at a narrow place in the river, upon which
we crossed over. But we had not yet surmounted our greatest
difficulty. We had to meet one which was far more formidable than the
first. Not many days after I had to face the Deacon.

We had been wandering about through the cane brakes, bushes, and
briers, for several days, when we heard the yelping of blood hounds, a
great way off, but they seemed to come nearer and nearer to us. We
thought after awhile that they must be on our track; we listened
attentively at the approach. We knew it was no use for us to undertake
to escape from them, and as they drew nigh, we heard the voice of a
man hissing on the dogs.

After awhile we saw the hounds coming in full speed on our track, and
the soul drivers close after them on horse back, yelling like tigers,
as they came in sight. The shrill yelling of the savage blood hounds
as they drew nigh made the woods echo.

The first impulse was to run to escape the approaching danger of
ferocious dogs, and blood thirsty slave hunters, who were so rapidly
approaching me with loaded muskets and bowie knives, with a
determination to kill or capture me and my family. I started to run
with my little daughter in my arms, but stumbled and fell down and
scratched the arm of little Frances with a brier, so that it bled very
much; but the dear child never cried, for she seemed to know the
danger to which we were exposed.

But we soon found that it was no use for us to run. The dogs were
soon at our heels, and we were compelled to stop, or be torn to pieces
by them. By this time, the soul drivers came charging up on their
horses, commanding us to stand still or they would shoot us down.

Of course I surrendered up for the sake of my family. The most abusive
terms to be found in the English language were poured forth on us with
bitter oaths. They tied my hands behind me, and drove us home before
them, to suffer the penalty of a slaveholder's broken law.

As we drew nigh the plantation my heart grew faint. I was aware that
we should have to suffer almost death for running off. I was filled
with dreadful apprehensions at the thought of meeting a professed
follower of Christ, whom I knew to be a hypocrite! No tongue, no pen
can ever describe what my feelings were at that time.




CHAPTER XII.

_My sad condition before Whitfield. --My terrible
punishment. --Incidents of a former attempt to escape--Jack at a farm
house. --Six pigs and a turkey. --Our surprise and arrest. _


The reader may perhaps imagine what must have been my feelings when I
found myself surrounded on the island with my little family, at
midnight, by a gang of savage wolves. This was one of those trying
emergencies in my life when there was apparently but one step between
us and the grave. But I had no cords wrapped about my limbs to prevent
my struggling against the impending danger to which I was then
exposed. I was not denied the consolation of resisting in self
defence, as was now the case. There was no Deacon standing before me,
with a loaded rifle, swearing that I should submit to the torturing
lash, or be shot down like a dumb beast.

I felt that my chance was by far better among the howling wolves in
the Red river swamp, than before Deacon Whitfield, on the cotton
plantation. I was brought before him as a criminal before a bar,
without counsel, to be tried and condemned by a tyrant's law. My arms
were bound with a cord, my spirit broken, and my little family
standing by weeping. I was not allowed to plead my own cause, and
there was no one to utter a word in my behalf.

He ordered that the field hands should be called together to witness
my punishment, that it might serve as a caution to them never to
attend a prayer meeting, or runaway as I had, lest they should receive
the same punishment.

At the sound of the overseer's horn, all the slaves came forward and
witnessed my punishment. My clothing was stripped off and I was
compelled to lie down on the ground with my face to the earth. Four
stakes were driven in the ground, to which my hands and feet were
tied. Then the overseer stood over me with the lash and laid it on
according to the Deacon's order. Fifty lashes were laid on before
stopping. I was then lectured with reference to my going to prayer
meeting without his orders, and running away to escape flogging.

While I suffered under this dreadful torture, I prayed, and wept, and
implored mercy at the hand of slavery, but found none. After I was
marked from my neck to my heels, the Deacon took the gory lash, and
said he thought there was a spot on my back yet where he could put in
a few more. He wanted to give me something to remember him by, he
said.

After I was flogged almost to death in this way, a paddle was brought
forward and eight or ten blows given me with it, which was by far
worse than the lash. My wounds were then washed with salt brine, after
which I was let up. A description of such paddles I have already given
in another page. I was so badly punished that I was not able to work
for several days. After being flogged as described, they took me off
several miles to a shop and had a heavy iron collar riveted on my neck
with prongs extending above my head, on the end of which there was a
small bell. I was not able to reach the bell with my hand. This heavy
load of iron I was compelled to wear for six weeks. I never was
allowed to lie in the same house with my family again while I was the
slave of Whitfield. I either had to sleep with my feet in the stocks,
or be chained with a large log chain to a log over night, with no bed
or bedding to rest my wearied limbs on, after toiling all day in the
cotton field. I suffered almost death while kept in this confinement;
and he had ordered the overseer never to let me loose again; saying
that I thought of getting free by running off, but no negro should
ever get away from him alive.

I have omitted to state that this was the second time I had run away
from him; while I was gone the first time, he extorted from my wife
the fact that I had been in the habit of running away, before we left
Kentucky; that I had been to Canada, and that I was trying to learn
the art of reading and writing. All this was against me.

It is true that I was striving to learn myself to write. I was a kind
of a house servant and was frequently sent off on errands, but never
without a written pass; and on Sundays I have sometimes got permission
to visit our neighbor's slaves, and I have often tried to write myself
a pass.

Whenever I got hold of an old letter that had been thrown away, or a
piece of white paper, I would save it to write on. I have often gone
off in the woods and spent the greater part of the day alone, trying
to learn to write myself a pass, by writing on the backs of old
letters; copying after the pass that had been written by Whitfield; by
so doing I got the use of the pen and could form letters as well as I
can now, but knew not what they were.

The Deacon had an old slave by the name of Jack whom he bought about
the time that he bought me. Jack was born in the State of Virginia.