The following is the letter of Mr. Leftwich, dated Dec. 26, 1838.
"Dear Brother--I am not ranked among the abolitionists, yet I cannot,
as a friend of humanity, withhold from the public such facts in
relation to the condition of the slaves, as have fallen under my own
observation. That I am somewhat acquainted with slavery will be seen,
as I narrate some incidents of my own life. My parents were
slaveholders, and moved from Virginia to Madison county, Alabama,
during my infancy. My mother soon fell a victim to the climate. Being
the youngest of the children, I was left in the care of my aged
grandfather, who never held a slave, though his sons owned from 90 to
100 during the time I resided with him. As soon as I could carry a
hoe, my uncle, by the name of Neely, persuaded my grandfather that I
should be placed in his hands, and brought up in habits of industry. I
was accordingly placed under his tuition. I left the domestic circle,
little dreaming of the horrors that awaited me. My mother's own
brother took me to the cotton field, there to learn habits of
industry, and to be benefited by his counsels. But the sequel proved,
that I was there to feel in my own person, and witness by experience
many of the horrors of slavery. Instead of kind admonition, I was to
endure the frowns of one, whose sympathies could neither be reached by
the prayers and cries of his slaves, nor by the entreaties and
sufferings of a sister's son. Let those who call slaveholders kind,
hospitable and humane, mark the course the slaveholder pursues with
one born free, whose ancestors fought and bled for liberty; and then
say, if they can without a blush of shame, that he who robs the
helpless of every _right_, can be truly kind and hospitable.
"In a short time after I was put upon the plantation, there was but
little difference between me and the slaves, except being _white_, I
ate at the master's table. The slaves were my companions in misery,
and I well learned their condition, both in the house and field. Their
dwellings are log huts, from ten to twelve feet square; often without
windows, doors or floors. They have neither chairs, tables or
bedsteads. These huts are occupied by eight, ten or twelve persons
each. Their bedding generally consists of two old blankets. Many of
them sleep night after night sitting upon their blocks or stools;
others sleep in the open air. Our task was appointed, and from dawn
till dark all must bend to their work. Their meals were taken without
knife or plate, dish or spoon. Their food was corn _pone_, prepared in
the coarsest manner, with a small allowance of meat. Their meals in
the field were taken from the hands of the carrier, wherever he found
them, with no more ceremony than in the feeding of swine. My uncle was
his own overseer. For punishing in the field, he preferred a large
hickory stick; and wo to him whose work was not done to please him,
for the hickory was used upon our heads as remorselessly as if we had
been mad dogs. I was often the object of his fury, and shall bear the
marks of it on my body till I die. Such was my suffering and
degradation, that at the end of five years, I hardly dared to say I
was _free_. When thinning cotton, we went mostly on our knees. One
day, while thus engaged, my uncle found my row behind; and, by way of
admonition, gave me a few blows with his hickory, the marks of which I
carried for weeks. Often I followed the example of the fugitive
slaves, and betook myself to the mountains; but hunger and fear drove
me back, to share with the wretched slave his toil and stripes. But I
have talked enough about my own bondage; I will now relate a few
facts, showing the condition of the slaves _generally_.
"My uncle wishing to purchase what is called a good 'house wench,' a
_trader_ in human flesh soon produced a woman, recommending her as
highly as ever a jockey did a horse. She was purchased, but on trial
was found wanting in the requisite qualifications. She then fell a
victim to the disappointed rage of my uncle; innocent or guilty, she
suffered greatly from his fury. He used to tie her to a peach tree in
the yard, and whip her till there was no sound place to lay another
stroke, and repeat it so often that her back was kept continually
sore. Whipping the females around the legs, was a favorite mode of
punishment with him. They must stand and hold up their clothes, while
he plied his hickory. He did not, like some of his neighbors, keep a
pack of hounds for hunting runaway negroes, but be kept one dog for
that purpose, and when he came up with a runaway, it would have been
death to attempt to fly, and it was nearly so to stand. Sometimes,
when my uncle attempted to whip the slaves, the dog would rush upon
them and relieve them of their rags, if not of their flesh. One object
of my uncle's special hate was "Jerry," a slave of a proud spirit. He
defied all the curses, rage and stripes of his tyrant. Though he was
often overpowered--for my uncle would frequently wear out his stick
upon his head--yet be would never submit. As he was not expert in
picking cotton, he would sometimes run away in the fall, to escape
abuse. At one time, after an absence of some months, he was arrested
and brought back. As is customary, he was stripped, tied to a log, and
the cow-skin applied to his naked body till his master was exhausted.
Then a large log chain was fastened around one ankle, passed up his
back, over his shoulders, then across his breast, and fastened under
his arm. In this condition he was forced to perform his daily task.
Add to this he was chained each night, and compelled to chop wood
every Sabbath, to make up lost time. After being thus manacled for
some months, he was released--but his spirit was unsubdued. Soon
after, his master, in a paroxysm of rage, fell upon him, wore out his
staff upon his head, loaded him again with chains, and after a month,
sold him farther south. Another slave, by the name of Mince, who was a
man of great strength, purloined some bacon on a Christmas eve. It was
missed in the morning, and he being absent, was of course suspected.
On returning home, my uncle commanded him to come to him, but he
refused. The master strove in vain to lay hands on him; in vain he
ordered his slaves to seize him--they dared not. At length the master
hurled a stone at his head sufficient to have felled a bullock--but he
did not heed it. At that instant my aunt sprang forward, and
presenting the gun to my uncle, exclaimed, 'Shoot him! shoot him !' He
made the attempt, but the gun missed fire, and Mince fled. He was
taken eight or ten months after while crossing the Ohio. When brought
back, the master, and an overseer on another plantation, took him to
the mountain and punished him to their satisfaction in secret; after
which he was loaded with chains and set to his task.
"I here spent nearly all my life in the midst of slavery. From being
the son of a slaveholder, I descended to the condition of a slave, and
from that condition I rose (if you please to call it so,) to the
station of a '_driver_.' I have lived in Alabama, Tennessee, and
Kentucky; and I _know_ the condition of the slaves to be that of
unmixed wretchedness and degradation. And on the part of slaveholders,
there is cruelty _untold_. The labor of the slave is constant toil,
wrung out by fear. Their food is scanty, and taken without comfort.
Their clothes answer the purposes neither of comfort nor decency. They
are not allowed to read or write. Whether they may worship God or not,
depends on the will of the master. The young children, until they can
work, often go naked during the warm weather. I could spend months in
detailing the sufferings, degradation and cruelty inflicted upon
slaves. But my soul sickens at the remembrance of these things."