HIRED OUT TO A NEW MASTER.
While I was staying with my master at Bath, he having little necessity for
my services, hired me out to a man by the name of Joseph Robinson, for the
purpose of learning me to drive a team. Robinson lived about three miles
from the village of Bath, on a small farm, and was not only a poor man but
a very mean one. He was cross and heartless in his family, as well as
tyrannical and cruel to those in his employ; and having hired me as a
"slave boy," he appeared to feel at full liberty to wreak his brutal
passion on me at any time, whether I deserved rebuke or not; nor did his
terrible outbreaks of anger vent themselves in oaths, curses and
threatenings only, but he would frequently draw from the cart-tongue a
heavy iron pin, and beat me over the head with it, so unmercifully that he
frequently sent the blood flowing over my scanty apparel, and from that to
the ground, before he could feel satisfied.
These kind of beatings were not only excessively painful, but they always
reminded me of the blows I had so often received from the key, in the hand
of Mrs. Helm, when I was but a little waiter lad; and in truth I must say
that the effect of these heavy blows on the head, have followed me thus
far through life; subjecting me to frequent and violent head-aches, from
which I never expect to be entirely free. Even to this day I shudder at
the thought, when I think how Robinson used to fly at me, swearing,
foaming, and seeming to think there was no weapon too large or too heavy
to strike me with.
He and I were at one time logging with a yoke of oxen, which it was my
business to drive. At that time rattle-snakes were numerous, and a great
terror to the inhabitants. To be bitten by one of these poisonous reptiles
was certain and almost instant death; hence, the greatest caution and
constant vigilance was necessary to avoid them while at work. I had been
sent with the oxen to draw a log to the pile, and when I came up to it, I
observed that it appeared to be hollow; but stepping forward, with the
chain in my hand, ready to attach it to the log, when, oh, horror! the
warning rattle of a snake sounded like a death knell in my ears,
proceeding from the log I was about to lay hold of. I was so much
frightened by the sound, that I dropped the chain as though it were red
hot, left my team, and ran with all the speed in my power, screaming
"murder, murder!" as loud as I could.
This proceeding, which was the fearful impulse of the moment, offended
Robinson, and gave him another opportunity to beat me most cruelly. He was
himself as much afraid of rattle-snakes as I; but he was the master and I
the "slave boy," which made a vast difference. He caught hold of me, and,
with horrid oaths, beat me with his fist again and again; threatening me
with awful punishment if I did not instantly return and bring the log to
the desired spot. I never can forget the mortal agony I was in, while
compelled by his kicks and blows to return and fasten the chain around the
log containing the deadly serpent. I, however, succeeded with trembling
hands, and drove the oxen, but keeping myself at the fartherest possible
distance from them and the log. When I finally arrived at the pile, Mr.
Robinson and some other men, cut a hole with an ax in the log, and killed
the large, venomous rattle-snake that had occasioned me so much alarm and
such a cruel beating. Nor was the uncontrollable and brutal passion of
Robinson his only deficiency; he was mean as he was brutal.
He had, at one time, borrowed a wagon of a neighbor living two miles
distant, through a dense forest. On the day of the total eclipse of the
sun, it entered his head that it would be fine sport, knowing my
my ignorance and superstition, to send me, just as the darkness was coming
on, to return the borrowed wagon. I accordingly hitched the ox-team to it
and started. As I proceeded through the wood, I saw, with astonishment and
some alarm, that it was growing very dark, and thought it singular at that
hour of the day. When I reached the place of my destination it was almost
total darkness, and some persons, ignorant as myself, were running about,
wringing their hands, and declaring that they believed the Day of Judgment
had come, and such like expressions.
The effect of all this was, however, very different from what my master
had expected. I thought, of course, if the judgment day had come, I should
be no longer a slave in the power of a heartless tyrant. I recollect well
of thinking, that if indeed all things earthly were coming to an end, I
should be free from Robinson's brutal force, and as to meeting my Creator,
I felt far less dread of that than of meeting my cross, unmerciful master.
I felt that, sinful as I had been, and unworthy as I was, I should be far
better off than I then was; driven to labor all day, without compensation;
half starved and poorly clad, and above all, subjected to the whims and
caprices of any heartless tyrant to whom my master might give the power to
rule over me. But I had not much time for reflection, I hurried home; my
mind filled with the calm anticipation that the end of all things was at
hand; which greatly disappointed my expectant master, who was looking for
me to return in a great fright, making some very ludicrous demonstration
of fear and alarm. But after a few months more of hardship I was permitted
to return to Capt. Helm's, where I was treated much better than at
Robinson's, and much, better than the Captain used to treat his slaves.
Capt. Helm, not having demand for slave labor as much as formerly, was in
the practice of hiring out his slaves to different persons, both in and
out of the village; and among others, my only sister was hired out to a
_professed_ gentleman living in Bath. She had become the mother of two or
three children, and was considered a good servant.
One pleasant Sabbath morning, as I was passing the house where she lived,
on my way to the Presbyterian church, where I was sent to ring the bell as
usual, I heard the most piteous cries and earnest pleadings issuing from
the dwelling. To my horror and the astonishment of those with me, my poor
sister made her appearance, weeping bitterly, and followed by her inhuman
master, who was polluting the air of that clear Sabbath morning, with the
most horrid imprecations and threatenings, and at the same time
flourishing a large raw-hide. Very soon his bottled wrath burst forth, and
the blows, aimed with all his strength, descended upon the unprotected
head, shoulders and back of the helpless woman, until she was literally
cut to pieces. She writhed in his powerful grasp, while shriek after
shriek died away in heart-rending moanings; and yet the inhuman demon
continued to beat her, though her pleading cries had ceased, until
obliged to desist from the exhaustion of his own strength.
What a spectacle was that, for the sight of a brother? The God of heaven
only knows the conflict of feeling I then endured; He alone witnessed the
tumult of my heart, at this outrage of manhood and kindred affection. God
knows that my will was good enough to have wrung his neck; or to have
drained from his heartless system its last drop of blood! And yet I was
obliged to turn a deaf ear to her cries for assistance, which to this day
ring in my ears. Strong and athletic as I was, no hand of mine could be
raised in her defence, but at the peril of both our lives;--nor could her
husband, had he been a witness of the scene, be allowed any thing more
than unresisting submission to any cruelty, any indignity which the master
saw fit to inflict on _his wife_, but the other's _slave_.
Does any indignant reader feel that I was wanting in courage or brotherly
affection, and say that he would have interfered, and, at all hazards,
rescued his sister from the power of her master; let him remember that he
is a _freeman_; that he has not from his infancy been taught to cower
beneath the white man's frown, and bow at his bidding, or suffer all the
rigor of the slave laws. Had the gentlemanly woman-whipper been seen
beating his horse, or his ox, in the manner he beat my poor sister, and
that too for no fault which the law could recognize as an offence, he
would have been complained of most likely; but as it was, she was but a
"slave girl,"--with whom the slave law allowed her master to do what he
pleased.
Well, I finally passed on, with a clinched fist and contracted brow, to
the church, and rung the bell, I think rather furiously, to notify the
inhabitants of Bath, that it was time to assemble for the worship of that
God who has declared himself to be "no respecter of persons." With my own
heart beating wildly with indignation and sorrow, the kind reader may
imagine my feelings when I saw the smooth-faced hypocrite, the inhuman
slave-whipper, enter the church, pass quietly on to his accustomed seat,
and then meekly bow his hypocritical face on the damask cushion, in the
reverent acknowledgment of that religion which teaches its adherents "to
do unto others as they would be done by," just as if nothing unusual had
happened on that Sabbath morning. Can any one wonder that I, and other
slaves, often doubted the sincerity of every white man's religion? Can it
be a matter of astonishment, that slaves often feel that there is no just
God for the poor African? Nay, verily; and were it not for the comforting
and sustaining influence that these poor, illiterate and suffering
creatures feel as coming from an unearthly source, they would in their
ignorance all become infidels. To me, that beautiful Sabbath morning was
clouded in midnight darkness, and I retired to ponder on what could be
done.
For some reason or other, Capt. Helm had supplied every lawyer in that
section of country with slaves, either by purchase or hire; so when I
thought of seeking legal redress for my poor, mangled sister, I saw at
once it would be all in vain. The laws were in favor of the slave owner,
and besides, every legal gentleman in the village had one or more of the
Captain's slaves, who were treated with more or less rigor; and of course
they would do nothing toward censuring one of their own number, so nothing
could be done to give the slave even the few privileges which the laws of
the State allowed them.
The Captain sold my aunt Betsy Bristol to a distinguished lawyer in the
village, retaining her husband, Aaron Bristol, in his own employ; and two
of her children he sold to another legal gentleman named Cruger. One day
Captain Helm came out where the slaves were at work, and finding Aaron was
not there, he fell into a great rage and swore terribly. He finally
started off to a beach tree, from which he cut a stout limb, and trimmed
it so as to leave a knot on the but end of the stick, or bludgeon rather,
which was about two and a half feet in length. With this formidable
weapon he started for Aaron's lonely cabin. When the solitary husband saw
him coming he suspected that he was angry, and went forth to meet him
in the street. They had no sooner met than my master seized Aaron by the
collar, and taking the limb he had prepared by the smaller end, commenced
beating him with it, over the head and face, and struck him some thirty or
more terrible blows in quick succession; after which Aaron begged to know
for what he was so unmercifully flogged.
"Because you deserve it," was the angry reply. Aaron said that he had ever
endeavored to discharge his duty, and had done so to the best of his
ability; and that he thought it very hard to be treated in that manner for
no offence at all. Capt. Helm was astonished at his audacity; but the
reader will perceive that the slaves were not blind to the political
condition of the country, and were beginning to feel that they had some
rights, and meant to claim them.
Poor Aaron's face and head, however, was left in a pitiable condition
after such a pummeling with a knotty stick. His face, covered with blood,
was so swollen that he could hardly see for some time; but what of that?
Did he not belong to Capt. Helm, soul and body; and if his brutal owner
chose to destroy his own property, certainly had he not a right to do so,
without let or hindrance? Of course; such is the power that Slavery gives
one human being over another.
And yet it must be confessed that among the poor, degraded and ignorant
slaves there exists a foolish pride, which loves to boast of their
master's wealth and influence. A white person, too poor to own slaves, is
as often looked upon with as much disdain by the miserable slave as by his
wealthy owner. This disposition seems to be instilled into the mind of
every slave at the South, and indeed, I have heard slaves object to being
sent in very small companies to labor in the field, lest that some
passer-by should think that they belonged to a poor man, who was unable to
keep a large gang. Nor is this ridiculous sentiment maintained by the
slaves only; the rich planter feels such a contempt for all white persons
without slaves, that he does not want them for his neighbors. I know of
many instances where such persons have been under the necessity of buying
or hiring slaves, just to preserve their reputation and keep up
appearances; and even among a class of people who profess to be opposed to
Slavery, have I known instances of the same kind, and have heard them
apologize for their conduct by saying that "when in Rome, we must do as
the Romans do."
Uncle Aaron Bristol was one of Capt. Helm's slaves who had a large amount
of this miserable pride; and for him to be associated with a white man in
the same humble occupation, seemed to give him ideas of great superiority,
and full liberty to treat him with all the scorn and sarcasm he was
capable of, in which my uncle was by no means deficient.
At this time the Captain owned a fine and valuable horse, by the name of
_Speculator_. This horse, groomed by uncle Aaron, stood sometimes at Bath
and sometimes at Geneva; and at the latter village another horse was kept,
groomed by a white man. The white groom was not very well pleased with
Aaron's continual disparagement of the clumsy animal which my uncle called
"a great, awkward plow-horse;" and then he would fling out some of his
proud nonsense about "_poor white people_ who were obliged to groom their
own old dumpy horses," &c.
Well, things went on in this unpleasant manner for several weeks, when at
last the white groom and Aaron met at Geneva, and the horse belonging to
the former, designedly or accidentally, escaped from his keeper, and came
with full speed, with his mouth wide open, after Speculator. When the
fiery fellow had overtaken uncle Aaron he attempted to grasp the wethers
of Speculator with his teeth, instead of which he caught Aaron on the
inside of his thigh, near the groin, from whence he bit a large piece of
flesh, laying the bone entirely bare; at the same moment flinging Aaron to
the ground, some rods off; and the next instant he kicked Speculator down
a steep embankment Aaron was taken up for dead, and Dr. Henry sent for,
who dressed his wounds; and after several months' confinement he finally
recovered. It is probable that the biting and overthrow of Aaron saved his
life, as he must have otherwise been killed in the encounter of the two
horses.
A while after his recovery, uncle Aaron succeeded in procuring a team and
some kind of vehicle, in which he put his wife and children, and between
two days, took "French leave" of his master as well as of the lawyer to
whom his wife belonged.
The lawyer, however, was far from being pleased when he missed his
property, and immediately set his wits to work to reclaim her. All was
kept secret as possible, but it was whispered about that it was to be
done by a State's warrant, for removing the clothing and furniture they
had taken, and so, being thus arrested, "Madam Bristol" would be glad to
return to her work in the lawyer's kitchen. But Aaron was a smart, shrewd
man, and kept out of their reach, where he soon found friends and
employment, and could go where he pleased, without having an infuriated
master to beat and disfigure him with a knotted stick, until his clothes
were bespattered with blood. They appreciated their liberty, and lived and
died in peace and freedom.
Capt. Helm continued his old manner of treating slaves, dealing out their
weekly allowance of corn or meal; but living as we now did, so much more
intimately with white inhabitants, our condition was materially improved.
The slaves became more refined in manners and in possession of far greater
opportunities to provide for themselves, than they had ever before
enjoyed, and yet it was _Slavery_. Any reverse in the fortunes of our
master would be disadvantageous to us. Oh, how this fearful uncertainty
weighed upon us as we saw that our master was not prospering and
increasing in wealth; but we had not the dismal fears of the loathsome
slave-pen, rice swamps, and many other things we should have to fear in
Virginia. We were still _slaves_, and yet we had so much greater chance
to learn from the kind, intelligent people about us, so many things which
we never knew before, that I think a slave-trader would have found it a
difficult task to take any one of us to a Southern slave market, if our
master had so ordered it.
The village of Bath is rather an out-of-the-way place, hemmed in on all
sides by mountains of considerable height, leaving an opening on the
north, through a pleasant valley, to the head of Crooked Lake. Produce
of every kind, when once there, met a ready sale for the New York market.
In the first settlement of the country this was the only outlet for the
country produce, which was transported in rude boats or vessels called
_arks_, built during the winter season to await the spring freshet; then
they loaded them with wheat or other produce, and sent them to Baltimore
or elsewhere. They used also to obtain great quantities of fine lumber,
and floated it through the same rivers every spring; but it was attended
with great loss of life and property.
Bath assumed a warlike appearance during the last war with Great Britain;
the public square was dotted all over with officers, marquees, and
soldiers' tents. Some of these soldiers were unprincipled and reckless
men, who seemed to care very little what they did.
One evening I was walking around the encampment in company with a Mr.
James Morrison, a clerk in the land office, looking at the soldiers, until
we came near a sentinel on duty. He kept his gun to his shoulder until we
came near enough, and then he attempted to run me through with his
bayonet. Young Morrison sprang forward, and seizing the musket, told me
to run; I did so, which probably saved my life.