"You ask me of my hostess"--then after giving an idea of her character
says: "To day, she has I verily believe laid, in a very severe manner
too, more than 300 _stripes_, upon the house servants," (17 in
number.)
_Darlington, Court Moons. S.C. March, 28th, 1838._
"I walked up to the Court House to day, where I heard one of the most
interesting cases I ever heard. I say interesting, on account of its
novelty to me, though it had no novelty for the people, as such cases
are of frequent occurrence. The case was this: To know whether two
ladies, present in court, were _white_ or _black_. The ladies were
dressed well, seemed modest, and were retiring and neat in their look,
having blue eyes, black hair, and appeared to understand much of the
etiquette of southern behaviour.
"A man, more avaricious than humane, as is the case with most of the
rich planters, laid a remote claim to those two modest, unassuming,
innocent and free young ladies as his property, with the design of
putting them into the field, and thus increasing his STOCK! As well as
the people of Concord are known to be of a peaceful disposition, and
for their love of good order, I verily believe if a similar trial
should be brought forward there and conducted as this was, the good
people would drive the lawyers out of the house. Such would be their
indignation at their language, and at the mean under-handed manner of
trying to ruin those young ladies, as to their standing in society in
this district, if they could not succeed in dooming them for life to
the degraded condition of slavery, and all its intolerable cruelties.
Oh slavery! if statues of marble could curse you, they would speak. If
bricks could speak, they would all surely thunder out their anathemas
against you, accursed thing! How many white sons and daughters have
bled and groaned under the lash in this sultry climate," &c.
Under date of March, 1832, Mr. G. writes, "I have been doing what I
hope never to be called to do again, and what I fear I have badly
done, though performed to the best of my ability, namely, sewing up a
very bad wound made by a wild hog. The slave was hunting wild hogs,
when one, being closely pursued, turned upon his pursuer, who turning
to run, was caught by the animal, thrown down, and badly wounded in
the thigh. The wound is about five inches long and very deep. It was
made by the tusk of the animal. The slaves brought him to one of the
huts on Mr. Tripp's plantation and made every exertion to stop the
blood by filling the wound with ashes, (their remedy for stopping
blood) but finding this to fail they came to me (there being no other
white person on the plantation, as it is now holidays) to know if I
could stop the blood. I went and found that the poor creature must
bleed to death unless it could be stopped soon. I called for a needle
and succeeded in sewing it up as well as I could, and in stopping the
blood. In a short time his master, who had been sent for came; and
oh, you would have shuddered if you had heard the awful oaths that
fell from his lips, threatening in the same breath "_to pay him for
that_!" I left him as soon as decency would permit, with his hearty
thanks that I had saved him $500! Oh, may heaven protect the poor,
suffering, fainting slave, and show his master his wanton cruelty--oh
slavery! slavery!"
Under date of July, 1832, Mr. G. writes, "I wish you could have been
at the breakfast table with me this morning to have seen and heard
what I saw and heard, not that I wish your ear and heart and soul
pained as mine is, with every day's observation 'of wrong and outrage'
with which this place is filled, but that you might have auricular and
ocular evidence of the cruelty of slavery, of cruelties that mortal
language can never describe--that you might see the tender mercies of
a hardened slaveholder, one who bears the name of being _one of the
mildest and most merciful masters of which this island can boast_. Oh,
my friend, another is screaming under the lash, in the shed-room, but
for what I know not. The scene this morning was truly distressing to
me. It was this:--_After the blessing was asked_ at the breakfast
table, one of the servants, a woman grown, in giving one of the
children some molasses, happened to pour out a little more than usual,
though not more than the child usually eats. Her master was angry at
the petty and indifferent mistake, or slip of the hand. He rose from
the table, took both of her hands in one of his, and with the other
began to beat her, first on one side of her head and then on the
other, and repeating this, till, as he said on sitting down at table,
it hurt his hand too much to continue it longer. He then took off his
_shoe_, and with the heel began in the same manner as with his hand,
till the poor creature could no longer endure it without screeches and
raising her elbow as it is natural to ward off the blows. He then
called a great overgrown negro _to hold her hands behind her_ while he
should wreak his vengeance upon the poor servant. In this position he
began again to beat the poor suffering wretch. It now became
intolerable to bear; she _fell, screaming to me for help_. After she
fell, he beat her until I thought she would have died in his hands.
She got up, however, went out and washed off the blood and came in
before we rose from table, one of the most pitiable objects I ever saw
till I came to the South. Her ears were almost as thick as my hand,
her eyes awfully blood-shotten, her lips, nose, cheeks, chin, and
whole head swollen so that no one would have known it was Etta--and
for all this, she had to turn round as she was going out and _thank
her master!_ Now, all this was done while I was sitting at breakfast
with the rest of the family. Think you not I wished myself sitting
with the peaceful and happy circle around your table? Think of my
feelings, but pity the poor negro slave, who not only fans his cruel
master when he eats and sleeps, but bears the stripes his caprice may
inflict. Think of this, and let heaven hear your prayers."
In a letter dated St. Helena Island, S.C., Dec. 3, 1832, Mr. G.
writes, "If a slave here complains to his master, that his task is too
great, his master at once calls him a scoundrel and tells him it is
only because he has not enough to do, and orders the driver to
increase his task, however unable he may be for the performance of it.
I saw TWENTY-SEVEN _whipped at one time_ just because they did not do
more, when the poor creatures were so tired that they could scarcely
drag one foot after the other."