My master, George Thomas, was a man of wealth, his farm consisting of
about one thousand acres of land, well stocked with slaves. He was
as inhuman as he was rich, and would whip when no particle of fault
existed on the part of the slave. He would not employ an overseer
who did not practice whipping one or more slaves at least once a
day; if not a man, then some weak or gray-headed woman. Any overseer
who would not agree to these terms, could find no employment on Mr.
Thomas’s farm.
The third year after our arrival upon his plantation, he hired an
overseer from Virginia, who was a man after his own heart, and who
commenced the work of bloodshed soon after his arrival. He, however,
soon met with his match.
On the plantation was a slave named Ben, who was highly prized by Mr.
T., being, as he thought, the best and most faithful servant on the
farm. Ben was a resolute and brave man, and did not fear death. Such
courage did not suit the overseer, who wanted each slave to tremble
with fear when he addressed him. Ben was too high-minded for such
humiliation before any insignificant overseer. He had philosophically
concluded that death is but death any way, and that one might as
well die by hanging as whipping; so he resolved not to submit to be
whipped by the overseer.
One day in the month of November, when the slaves were in the field
gathering corn, which Ben was carting to the barn, the overseer
thought he did not drive his oxen fast enough. As soon then as Ben
came within hearing of his voice, while returning from the barn,
where he had just discharged his load, to the field, the overseer
bellowed to him to drive faster. With this order Ben attempted to
comply, by urging his beasts to their utmost speed. But all was of
no avail. As soon as they met, the overseer struck Ben upon the head
with the butt of his whip, felling him to the ground. But before
he could repeat the blow, Ben sprang from the ground, seized his
antagonist by the throat with one hand, while he felled him to the
ground with the other; then jumping upon his breast, he commenced
choking and beating him at the same time, until he had nearly killed
him. In fact he probably would have killed his enemy, had not two
of the slaves hastened to his rescue, which they with difficulty
accomplished, so firm and determined was Ben’s hold of him. For a
while the discomfited man was senseless, his face became of the
blackness of his hat, while the blood streamed down his face.
When he had recovered his senses, and was able to walk, he started
for the house, to relate this sad circumstance to Mr. Thomas. Ben
loaded his cart and followed after. No sooner had he entered the
barn, than his master sprang forward to seize him; but Ben eluded his
grasp and fled to the woods, where he remained about three weeks,
when he returned to his work.
No allusion was made to the circumstance for about five weeks, and
Ben supposed all was past and forgotten. At length a rainy time came
on, during which the hands could neither labor in the field nor
elsewhere out of doors, but were forced to work in the corn-house,
shelling the corn. While all were thus busily employed, the doors
closed, there entered five strong white men, besides our master,
armed with pistols, swords, and clubs. What a shocking sight! thus
to take one poor unarmed negro, these men must be employed, and the
county aroused to action.
Ben was soon bound in hemp enough, comparatively speaking, to rig a
small vessel. Thus bound, he was led to the place of torture, where
he was whipped until his entrails could be seen moving within his
body. Poor Ben! his crime, according to the laws of Maryland, was
punishable with death; a penalty far more merciful than the one he
received.
The manner of whipping on Mr. Thomas’s plantation, was to bind the
victim fast, hands, body and feet, around a hogshead or cask, so that
he was unable to move. After Ben was thus flogged, he said, “I wish I
had killed the overseer, then I should have been hung, and an end put
to my pain. If I have to do the like again, I will kill him and be
hung at once!”
Ben was, for five weeks, unable to walk, or sit, or lie down. He
could only rest upon his knees and elbows, and his wounds became
so offensive, that no person could long remain in his presence. He
crawled about upon his hands and knees, gritting his teeth with pain
and vengeance, and often exclaiming, “How I wish I had taken his
life!”
After this, Mr. Thomas forbade his overseers meddling with Ben,
telling them that he would kill them if they did; also, that he was
a good hand, and needed no driving. When Ben got well, Mr. Thomas
knowing his disposition, was afraid to go near or speak to him;
consequently, he was sent to a distant part of the farm to work by
himself, nor was he ever again struck by master or overseer.
Ben was a brave fellow, nor did this flogging lessen his bravery in
the least. Nor is Ben the only brave slave at the South; there are
many there who would rather be shot than whipped by any man.
After I had learned to read, I was very fond of reading newspapers,
when I could get them. One day in the year 1830, I picked up a piece
of old newspaper containing the speech of J. Q. Adams, in the U. S.
Senate, upon a petition of the ladies of Massachusetts, praying for
the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia. This I kept hid
away for some months, and read it until it was so worn that I could
scarce make out the letters.
While reading this speech, my heart leaped with joy. I spent many
Sabbaths alone in the woods, meditating upon it. I then found out
that there was a place where the negro was regarded as a man, and
not as a brute; where he might enjoy the “inalienable right of life,
liberty, and the pursuit of happiness”; and where he could walk
unfettered throughout the length and breadth of the land.
These thoughts were constantly revolving in my mind, and I determined
to see, ere long, the land from whence echoed that noble voice; where
man acknowledged a difference between his brother man and a beast;
and where I could “worship God under my own vine and fig tree, with
none to molest or make afraid.”
Little did Mr. Adams know, when he was uttering that speech, that he
was “opening the eyes of the blind”; that he was breaking the iron
bands from the limbs of one poor slave, and setting the captive free.
But bread cast upon the waters, will be found and gathered after many
days.
But Mr. Adams has gone from hope to reward, and while his mortal
body is laying in the dust of the earth, awaiting the summons for
the re-union of soul and body, his spirit is with God in his kingdom
above.