their desire to obtain education for themselves and their children.
After a hard day's work, women would often walk miles, with babies in
their arms, to learn the alphabet. With the first money they can spare
they build school-houses and chapels and hire teachers. They also form
charitable societies and contribute money to help the aged and sick
among them. In the days of Slavery they herded together like animals;
but now it is considered disreputable and wrong to live together without
being married. In the days of Slavery they wore ragged and filthy
garments, but freedom has made them desirous of making a neat
appearance. Their working-clothes are generally well mended and clean,
and they keep a pretty suit to attend meeting and other festival
occasions. They are very careful of their best clothes. When they go to
dances, or social gatherings, they carry them in a basket, nicely folded
and covered up, and put them on when they arrive; and when they are
about to return home they again pack them up carefully. When they have
far to walk to meeting, over rough and dusty roads, they carry their
shoes and stockings till they come in sight of the church.
This is not at all like what the old planters prophesied, when they said
that if the negroes were freed they would skulk in the woods and steal
yams to keep them from starving. But all that silly talk has passed
away. Everybody in the British West Indies acknowledges that
emancipation has proved a blessing both to the white and the black
population. There is not a planter to be found there who would restore
Slavery again, if his own wish could do it.
FOOTNOTE:
[7] The northern part of Great Britain is called Scotland, the southern
part England. The entire people are called British.
THE LAST NIGHT OF SLAVERY.
BY JAMES MONTGOMERY.
Let the floods clap their hands!
Let the mountains rejoice!
Let all the glad lands
Breathe a jubilant voice!
The sun, that now sets on the waves of the sea,
Shall gild with his rising the land of the free!
Let the islands be glad!
For their King in his might,
Who his glory hath clad
With a garment of light,
In the waters the beams of his chambers hath laid,
And in the green waters his pathway hath made.
Dispel the blue haze,
Golden Fountain of Morn!
With meridian blaze
The wide ocean adorn!
The sunlight has touched the glad waves of the sea,
And day now illumines the land of the FREE!
MADISON WASHINGTON.
BY L. MARIA CHILD.
This man was a slave, born in Virginia. His lot was more tolerable than
that of many who are doomed to bondage; but from his early youth he
always longed to be free. Nature had in fact made him too intelligent
and energetic to be contented in Slavery. Perhaps he would have
attempted to escape sooner than he did, had he not become in love with a
beautiful octoroon slave named Susan. She was the daughter of her
master, and the blood of the white race predominated in several of her
ancestors. Her eyes were blue, and her glossy dark hair fell in soft,
silky ringlets. Her lover was an unmixed black, and he also was
handsome. His features were well formed, and his large dark eyes were
very bright and expressive. He had a manly air, his motions were easy
and dignified, and altogether he looked like a being that would never
consent to wear a chain.
If he had hated Slavery before, he naturally hated it worse after he had
married Susan; for a handsome woman, who is a slave, is constantly
liable to insult and wrong, from which an enslaved husband has no power
to protect her. They laid plans to escape; but unfortunately their
intention was discovered before they could carry it into effect. To
avoid being sold to the far South, where he could have no hopes of ever
rejoining his beloved Susan, he ran to the woods, where he remained
concealed several months, suffering much from privation and anxiety. His
wife knew where he was, and succeeded in conveying some messages to him,
without being detected. She persuaded him not to wait for a chance to
take her with him, but to go to Canada and earn money enough to buy her
freedom, and then she would go to him.
He travelled only in the night, and by careful management, after a good
deal of hardship, he reached the Northern States, and passed into
Canada. There he let himself out to work on the farm of a man named
Dickson. He was so strong, industrious, intelligent, and well behaved,
that the farmer hoped to keep him a long time in his employ. He never
mentioned that he was born a slave; for the idea was always hateful to
him, and he thought also that circumstances might arise which would
render it prudent to keep his own secret. He showed little inclination
for conversation, and occupied every leisure moment in learning to read
and write. He remained there half a year, without any tidings from his
wife; for there are many difficulties in the way of slaves communicating
with each other at a distance. He became sad and restless. His employer
noticed it, and tried to cheer him up. One day he said to him: "Madison,
you seem to be discontented. What have you to complain of? Do you think
you are not treated well here? Or are you dissatisfied with the wages I
give you?"
"I have no complaint to make of my treatment, sir," replied Madison.
"You have been just and kind to me; and since you manifest so much
interest in me, I will tell you what it is that makes me so gloomy."
He then related his story, and told how his heart was homesick for his
dear Susan. He said she was so handsome that they would ask a high price
for her, and he had been calculating that it would take him years to
earn enough to buy her; meanwhile, he knew not what might happen to her.
There was no law to protect a slave, and he feared all sorts of things;
especially, he was afraid they might sell her to the far South, where he
could never trace her. So he said he had made up his mind to go back to
Virginia and try to bring her away. Mr. Dickson urged him not to attempt
it. He reminded him of the dangers he would incur: that he would run a
great risk of getting back into Slavery, and that perhaps he himself
would be sold to the far South, where he never would be able to
communicate with his wife. But Madison replied, "I am well aware of
that, sir; but freedom does me no good unless Susan can share it with
me."
He accordingly left his safe place of refuge, and started for Virginia.
He had free-papers made out, which he thought would protect him till he
arrived in the neighborhood where he was known. He also purchased
several small files and saws, which he concealed in the lining of his
clothes. With these tools he thought he could effect his escape from
prison, if he should be taken up on the suspicion of being a runaway
slave. Passing through the State of Ohio, he met several who had
previously seen him on his way to Canada. They all tried to persuade him
not to go back to Virginia; telling him there were nine chances out of
ten that he would get caught and carried back into Slavery again. But
his answer always was, "Freedom does me no good while my wife is a
slave."
When he came to the region where he was known, he hid in woods and
swamps during the day, and travelled only in the night. At last he came
in sight of his master's farm, and hid himself in the woods near by.
There he remained several days, in a dreadful state of suspense and
anxiety. He could not contrive any means to obtain information
concerning his wife. He was afraid they might have sold her, for fear
she would follow him. He prowled about in the night, in hopes of seeing
some old acquaintance, who would tell him whether she was still at the
old place; but he saw no one whom he could venture to trust. At last
fortune favored him. One evening he heard many voices singing, and he
knew by their songs that they were slaves. As they passed up the road,
he came out from the woods and joined them. There were so many of them
that the addition of one more was not noticed. He found that they were
slaves from several plantations, who had permits from their masters to
go to a corn-shucking. They were merry, for they were expecting to have
a lively time and a comfortable supper. Being a moonless evening, they
could not see Madison's face, and he was careful not to let them
discover who he was. He went with them to the corn-shucking; and,
keeping himself in the shadow all the time, he contrived, in the course
of conversation, to find out all he wanted to know. Susan was not sold,
and she was living in the same house where he had left her. He was
hungry, for he had been several days without food, except such as he
could pick up in the woods; but he did not dare to show his face at the
supper, where dozens would be sure to recognize him. So he skulked away
into the woods again, happy in the consciousness that his Susan was not
far off.
He resolved to attempt to see her the next night. He was afraid to tap
at her window after all the people in the Great House were abed and
asleep; for, as she supposed he was in Canada, he thought she might be
frightened and call somebody. He therefore ventured to approach her room
in the evening. Unfortunately, the overseer saw him, and called a number
of whites, who rushed into the room just as he entered it. He fought
hard, and knocked down three of them in his efforts to escape. But they
struck at him with their bowie-knives till he was so faint with loss of
blood that he could resist no longer. They chained him and carried him
to Richmond, where he was placed in the jail. His prospects were now
dreary enough. His long-cherished hope of being reunited to his dear
wife vanished away in the darkness of despair.
There was a slave-trader in Richmond buying a gang of slaves for the
market of New Orleans. Madison Washington was sold to him, and carried
on board the brig Creole, owned by Johnson and Eperson, of Richmond, and
commanded by Captain Enson. The brig was lying at the dock waiting for
her cargo, which consisted of tobacco, hemp, flax, and slaves. There
were two separate cabins for the slaves: one for the men and the other
for the women. Some of the poor creatures belonged to Johnson and
Eperson, some to Thomas McCargo, and some to Henry Hewell. Each had a
little private history of separation and sorrow. There was many a
bleeding heart there, beside the noble heart that was throbbing in the
bosom of Madison Washington. His purchasers saw that he was intelligent,
and they knew that he was sold for having escaped to Canada. He was
therefore chained to the floor of the cabin and closely watched. He
seemed quiet and even cheerful, and they concluded that he was
reconciled to his fate. On the contrary, he was never further from such
a state of mind. He closely observed the slaves who were in the cabin
with him. His discriminating eye soon selected those whom he could
trust. To them he whispered that there were more than a hundred slaves
on board, and few whites. He had his saws and files still hidden in the
lining of his clothes. These were busily used to open their chains,
while the captain and crew were asleep. They still continued to wear
their chains, and no one suspected that they could slip their hands and
feet out at their pleasure.
When the Creole had been nine days out they encountered rough weather.
Most of the slaves were sea-sick, and therefore were not watched so
closely as usual. On the night of November 7, 1841, the wind was blowing
hard. The captain and mate were on deck, and nearly all the crew. Mr.
Henry Hewell, one of the owners of the cargo of slaves, who had formerly
been a slave-driver on a plantation, was seated on the companion,
smoking a cigar. The first watch had just been summoned, when Madison
Washington sprang on deck, followed by eighteen other slaves. They
seized whatever they could find to use as weapons. Hewell drew a pistol
from under his coat, fired at one of the slaves and killed him. Madison
Washington struck at him with a capstan-bar, and he fell dead at his
feet. The first and second mates both attacked Madison at once. His
strong arms threw them upon the deck wounded, but not killed. He fought
for freedom, not for revenge; and as soon as they had disarmed the
whites and secured them safely, he called out to his accomplices not to
shed blood. With his own hands he dressed the wounds of the crew, and
told them they had nothing to fear if they would obey his orders. The
man who had been a chained slave half an hour before was now master of
the vessel, and his grateful companions called him Captain Washington.
Being ignorant of navigation, he told Merritt, the first mate, that he
should have the freedom of the deck, if he would take an oath to carry
the brig faithfully into the nearest port of the British West Indies;
and he was afraid to do otherwise.
The next morning Captain Washington ordered the cook to prepare the best
breakfast the store-room could furnish, for it was his intention to give
all the freed slaves a good meal. The women, who had been greatly
frightened by the tumult the night before, were glad enough to come out
of their close cabin into the fresh air. And who do you think was among
them? Susan, the beautiful young wife of Madison, was there! She had
been accused of communicating with her husband in Canada, and being
therefore considered a dangerous person, she had been sold to the
slave-trader to be carried to the market of New Orleans. Neither of them
knew that the other was on board. With a cry of surprise and joy they
rushed into each other's arms. The freed slaves threw up their caps and
hurrahed again and again, till the sea-gulls wondered at the noise. O,
it was a joyful, joyful time! Captain Washington was repaid for all he
had suffered. He had gained his own liberty, after having struggled for
it in vain for years; he had freed a hundred and thirty-four of his
oppressed brethren and sisters; and he had his beloved Susan in his
arms, carrying her to a land where the laws would protect their domestic
happiness. He felt richer at that moment than any king with a golden
crown upon his head.
There had been but two lives lost. One white man was killed in the
affray, and he was the slave-driver who shot down one of the slaves.
Captain Enson and others who were wounded were kindly cared for by
Captain Washington. They proved ungrateful, and tried to regain
possession of the vessel and the slaves. The blacks were so exasperated
by this attempt, that they wanted to kill all the whites on board. But
Captain Washington called out to them: "We have got our liberty, and
that is all we have been fighting for. Let no more blood be shed! I have
promised to protect these men. They have shown that they are not worthy
of it; but let us be magnanimous."
Next morning the Creole arrived at Nassau, in the island of New
Providence. Captain Washington and his companions sprang out upon free
soil. There he and his beloved Susan are living under the protection of
laws which make no distinctions on account of complexion.
EXTRACT FROM THE VIRGINIA BILL OF RIGHTS.
"The election of members to serve as representatives of the people in
Assembly ought to be free; and all men having sufficient evidence of
permanent common interest with, and attachment to, the community have
the right of suffrage; and they cannot be taxed, or deprived of their
property for public uses, without their own consent, or that of their
representatives so elected; nor can they be bound by any law to which
they have not assented, in like manner, for the public good."
The Virginia Bill of Rights was unanimously adopted by the people, in
June, 1776; and when they met, in January, 1830, to amend the
constitution of the State, they voted that the Bill of Rights needed no
amendment.
PRAISE OF CREATION.
BY GEORGE HORTON.
Creation fires my tongue!
Nature, thy anthems raise,
And spread the universal song
Of thy Creator's praise.
When each revolving wheel
Assumed its sphere sublime,
Submissive Earth then heard the peal,
And struck the march of time.
The march in heaven begun,
And splendor filled the skies,
When Wisdom bade the morning sun
With joy from chaos rise.
The angels heard the tune
Throughout creation ring;
They seized their golden harps as soon,
And touched on every string.
When time and space were young,
And music rolled along,
The morning stars together sung,
And heaven was drowned in song.
FREDERICK DOUGLASS.
BY L. MARIA CHILD.
Captain Anthony owned two or three farms on the eastern shore of
Maryland, and held about thirty slaves. One of them, a black woman named
Betsy, married a free black man named Isaac Baily; and they had a
numerous family of children, all of whom were, of course, slaves to
Captain Anthony. When she became an old widow she lived in a hut
separate from the other slaves, and was principally employed in nursing
troops of babies, which her children brought into the world for the
benefit of their master. Somewhere about the year 1817, Harriet, the
youngest of her five daughters, gave birth to a boy, on whom she
bestowed the high-sounding name of Frederick Augustus Washington Baily.
As she could not be spared from field-work, baby Frederick joined the
band of little slaves that were under his grandmother's care. Her hut
was made of logs, with no windows, a clay floor, and a mud chimney. But
the children were as well satisfied with it as if it had been a palace.
They were too young to know that they were slaves, and they were as
happy as little wild animals. They imitated the noises made by cats,
dogs, pigs, and barn-yard fowls, and rolled over and over on the ground,
laughing at their own fun. If the mud or dust made them uncomfortable,
they walked into the river without undressing; for the short tow shirt,
which was their only garment, was washed by swimming, and soon dried in
the sunshine. There was a wood close by, and it was one of their
greatest pleasures to watch the squirrels as they frisked about, or sat
on the stumps eating nuts. Near the hut was a well, with its beam placed
between the boughs of an old tree, and so well balanced that the
children could easily help themselves to water. Down in a valley, not
far off, was a water-mill, where people went to get their corn ground.
It was capital sport to play at fishing in the mill-pond, with thread
lines, and hooks made of bent pins; and they were never tired of seeing
the big wheel turn round, throwing off great drops of water that
sparkled in the sunshine. They lived mostly on corn mush, which they ate
from a big wooden tray, with oyster-shells for spoons. But they were as
healthy as little pigs, and enjoyed their coarse food as well.
The greatest of their blessings was their good grandmother, who nursed
them kindly and did all she could to make them happy. They loved her
dearly; and when she was obliged to leave them for a short time, they
greeted her return with merry shouts. She was advanced in years, and the
hair that peeped from under the folds of her turban was very gray. But
she was remarkably strong for her age, straight in her figure, and quick
in her motions. She was very expert at catching fish, and sometimes
spent half the day in the water. She also made excellent nets to catch
shad and herring; and, as these nets sold extremely well, Captain
Anthony still found the old slave profitable. She had the name of being
born to good luck, because whatever business she undertook prospered in
her hands. She raised such excellent sweet potatoes that people often
sent for her to plant for them, saying, "If Gran'ma Betty touches them
they'll be sure to flourish." But the secret of her good luck was her
intelligence and carefulness. When she dug potatoes she took pains not
to cut or bruise them; and in winter she protected them from frost in a
hole under her hearth.
Freddy's poor mother was not allowed the comfort of being with her
child. She was let out to work in the fields, twelve miles off. Whenever
she went to see her little boy she had to walk over all those miles
twice in the night-time, after a hard day's work; for if she was not
back in the field by sunrise she was severely whipped. Freddy saw her
but four or five times, and never by daylight. Sometimes she would lie
down beside him and talk to him till he fell asleep, but when he woke
she was always gone. He always remembered that she once took him on her
knee and gave him a cake in the shape of a heart. Her rare visits made
such an impression on him that he never forgot her personal appearance.
She was tall and finely proportioned, with regular features and a deep
black glossy complexion. Her manners were very sedate, her countenance
downcast, and her eyes very sad. When he was nearly seven years old she
died; but he knew nothing about it till long afterward. In later years
he heard that she could read, and that she was the only one of all the
slaves in the neighborhood who possessed that advantage. He never
discovered how she had learned. When she died he was too young to have
heard anything from her lips concerning his father. He was always told
that he was the son of a white man, and some whispered the name of his
master. But he never knew who was his father, and could only conjecture
why the eyes of his poor mother had such a sad expression.
Captain Anthony did not carry on any of his own farms. He employed
overseers for that purpose; and however cruelly the slaves might be
treated by the overseers, they never could obtain any protection by
applying to the "old master," as they called him. All the interest he
took in them was to have as much work as possible forced out of them,
and to sell one every year to add to his income. He himself managed the
affairs of Colonel Lloyd, a wealthy gentleman with numerous plantations
and a thousand slaves. His home-plantation, on the river Miles, where he
resided with his family, was about twelve miles from the hut where
Frederick had been nursed. His manager, Captain Anthony, lived in a
house on the same plantation, and was personally a stranger to his own
little slaves. But the children had seen and heard of things which made
the name of the "old master" a terror to them. Frederick's first great
trouble was when he discovered that he was a slave, and that, as soon as
he was big enough to work, he would have to go to "old master." Nothing
could exceed his dread of leaving the dear old home, and being separated
from the kind friend of his childhood. When he was about eight years
old, Captain Anthony sent for him; but his grandmother kept it a secret,
knowing how it would frighten him. One bright summer morning she told
him she was going to Colonel Lloyd's plantation, and invited him to go
with her. He had a curiosity to see the grand place of which he had
heard so much; so she took him by the hand and led him away from the
happy home of his childhood, to which he never returned. She carefully
concealed from him how her heart was swelling, and her tender ways did
not lead him to suspect it. When the unconscious little boy began to be
overcome with fatigue she "toted" him on her strong shoulders. She
scarcely seemed to feel the burden, and insisted upon carrying him a
long way; but he felt too much of a man to permit it. He was, however,
a little afraid as they walked through the thick, dark woods; for
sometimes the old knotted and gnarled stumps, when seen from a distance,
looked like creatures with eyes and legs; and he kept a tight hold of
her gown till the monstrous things were safely passed.
It was afternoon before they reached the famous Home Plantation of
Colonel Lloyd. There he found everything very different from the
solitude and poverty to which he had been accustomed. The plantation
seemed like a village, there were so many large houses, and stables, and
out-buildings, and mechanics' shops, and such a long row of huts for the
"slaves' quarters." Children were shouting and singing, and a great many
men and women were hoeing in the fields. The children came crowding
round Frederick, and asked him to go and play with them. He looked in
his grandmother's face, and seeing that she seemed very sad, he begun to
suspect that he was going to live with the "old master." He was
unwilling to lose sight of her for a moment; but she patted him on the
head, and said, "Be a good boy, and go and play with the children. That
one is your brother Perry, that is your sister Sarah, and that is your
sister Eliza." He had heard of these brothers and sisters before, but he
had never seen them, and they seemed like strangers. He kept close to
his grandmother; but at last she persuaded him to follow the children to
the back part of the house. He felt so shy that he stood leaning against
the wall, looking on, while the others played. After a while, a little
boy, who had been left in the kitchen, ran up to him, exclaiming, "Fed!
Fed! Grandmammy's gone!" He rushed after her, and when he found that she
was gone far out of sight, he threw himself on the ground and sobbed.
His brother and sisters brought him peaches and pears, but he flung them
away, and continued sobbing, till, overcome with sorrow and fatigue, he
fell into a deep sleep.