Mr. W. was a very cruel slave driver. He would whip unreasonably and
without cause. He was often from home, and not unfrequently three
or four weeks at a time, leaving the plantation, at such times, in
care of the overseer. When he returned, he sometimes ordered all the
slaves to assemble at the house, when he would whip them all round; a
little whipping being, as he thought, necessary, in order to secure
the humble submission of the slaves.
Sometimes he forced one slave to flog another, the husband his wife;
the mother her daughter; or the father his son. This practice seemed
very amusing to himself and his children, especially to his son,
John, who failed not to walk in his father’s footsteps, by carrying
into effect the same principle, until he became characteristically a
tyrant.
When at home from school, he would frequently request his
grandmother’s permission, to call all the black children from their
quarters to the house, to sweep and clear the yard from weeds, &c.,
in order that he might oversee them. Then, whip in hand, he walked
about among them, and sometimes lashed the poor little creatures,
who had on nothing but a shirt, and often nothing at all, until the
blood streamed down their backs and limbs, apparently for no reason
whatever, except to gratify his own cruel fancy.
This was pleasing to his father and grandmother, who, accordingly,
considered him a very smart boy indeed! Often, my mother, after
being in the field all day, upon returning at night, would find her
little children’s backs mangled by the lash of John Wagar, or his
grandmother; for if any child dared to resist the boy, she would
order the cook to lash it with a cowhide, kept for that purpose.
I well remember the tears of my poor mother, as they fell upon my
back, while she was bathing and dressing my wounds. But there was no
redress for her grievance, she had no appeal for justice, save to
high heaven; for if she complained, her own back would be cut in a
similar manner.
Sometimes she wept and sobbed all night, but her tears must be dried
and her sobs hushed, ere the overseer’s horn sounded, which it did
at early dawn, lest they should betray her. And she, unrefreshed,
must shake off her dull slumbers, and repair, at break of day, to
the field, leaving her little ones to a similar, or perhaps, worse
fate on the coming day, and dreading a renewal of her own sorrows the
coming evening. Great God, what a succession of crimes! Is there no
balm in Gilead; is there no physician there, that thy people can be
healed?
Martin, the fiddler, was bought for a term of ten years, after which
he was to be freed. He was a good hand, was called a faithful,
humble servant, and was much liked by all who knew him. His term was
now expired, according to the bill of sale. Of this he was fully
sensible, but his administrator being at the distance of seventy-five
miles from him, Martin had no means of seeing him, nor of informing
him that he was still held in bondage, beyond the time of contract.
Therefore, feeling himself at liberty, he consequently began to
manifest some signs of his freedom; for, when the overseer would
drive him as usual, he wanted him to understand that what he now did
was optional with himself, since he was now a free man, and had been
such for eighteen months.
The overseer took this as an insult, but would not correct him
himself, for he feared the action of Martin’s administrator.
Accordingly he complained to Mr. W., upon his return from a journey,
upon which he had been absent. Martin was immediately called up,
together with all the slaves, that they might witness the punishment
to which he was subjected, in order that it might prove a warning to
any one who might fancy himself free.
None knew at the time why they were called; they only knew that some
one, and perhaps all, were to be whipped. And immediately each one
began to inquire within himself, is it I? They began to consider if
they had done anything worthy of punishment. Their doubts and fears
were, however, soon ended by the lot falling on Martin, who was
ordered to cross his hands. This was in the barn yard. He, having
had his coarse shirt removed, and his pants fastened about his hips,
was swung up to a beam by his hands, in the open shed, when the
overseer was ordered to lash him with a cowhide. Every stroke laid
open the flesh upon his back, and caused the blood to flow. His
shrieks and piteous cries of “Lord, have mercy on me!” were heard at
distant plantations. But they were of no avail; there was no mercy in
the iron heart of his tormentor. It seemed as if death alone could
terminate his sufferings. But at length God heard his cry, and sent
deliverance. By a weak and unexpected means, He confounded the mighty.
John, who at this time was about fifteen years of age, was out
gunning, at a distance from the house. He heard the piercing shrieks
of the victim, and hastened to the spot, where the frightful scene
was being enacted.
“What is the overseer whipping Martin for,” he inquired of his father.
His father answered the question only by bidding him go to the house.
Instead of obeying, John cocked his gun, exclaiming “by God, I’ll
kill that overseer!” at the same time pointing the weapon at the
overseer, and bidding his father to stand out of his way.
The overseer, becoming frightened, ran to Mr. Wagar for safety, well
knowing that John would execute his threat, and that separated from
Mr. W. there was no safety for him.
“Put up that gun, John,” said his father.
“No I won’t,” replied John, “stand away, stand away. I’ll kill that
d—d overseer!”
The father was afraid to go towards his own son, lest in the frenzy
of exasperation, he should murder him. So the overseer, conducted by
Mr. W., for safety, left the farm for two days, until John’s anger
was appeased. Martin was then cut down by John, but was not able to
work for several days.
About four or five months after this occurrence, his administrator
arrived at the plantation. He seemed much surprised that Martin had
been held so long over his time, and said that Mr. W. should pay him
for it. He said nothing of the unjust punishment Martin had received,
and whether there was ever any redress for it, I never knew. Martin
left this plantation for a better one.
This was the only good act of John Wagar, of which I ever knew. Ever
afterwards he was fully equal to his father in cruelty. Not many
years afterwards, he whipped a slave woman to death, for taking a
glass of rum out of his jug, which he thought he had lost.
This woman’s husband generally kept liquor in his house, where some
was found, when search was made in the slave’s quarters for the lost
rum. She said that her husband had bought it, but her assertion was
not credited. Her husband belonged to a Mr. Morton, about five miles
distant, and came on Saturdays to see his wife. The woman’s name
was Minta; she was the mother of six children. She was whipped to
make her confess she was guilty, when she was not; and she finally
confessed. He whipped her one half hour, to force a confession;
after which he whipped another half hour for a crime which she never
committed. This caused her death, which occurred three days after.
This was about the commencement of John’s administration, for after
he had finished his education and returned home, his father gave up
the management of the plantation to him.
While young and attending school, his uncle gave him a beautiful
little pony, saddle and bridle. Then this young gentleman must have a
private body servant for himself, and he claimed the honor of making
choice of one for himself, from among the slave children. Accordingly
he made choice of myself.
Then my business was to wait upon him, attend to his horse, and go
with him to and from school; for neglect of which, as he fancied,
I often got severe floggings from him. Still, I did not wish my
situation changed, for I considered my station a very high one;
preferring an occasional licking, to being thrown out of office.
Being a gentleman’s body servant, I had nothing more to do with
plantation affairs, and, consequently, thought myself much superior
to those children who had to sweep the yard. I was about twelve years
old when given to John Wagar.