Extract of a letter, dated January 3, 1839, from John M. Nelson, Esq.,
of Hillsborough. Mr. Nelson removed from Virginia to Highland county,
Ohio, many years since, where he is extensively known and respected.
I was born and raised in Augusta county, Virginia; my father was an
elder in the Presbyterian Church, and was "owner" of about twenty
slaves; he was what was generally termed a "good master." His slaves
were generally tolerably well fed and clothed, and not over worked,
they were sometimes permitted to attend church, and called in to
family worship; few of them, however, availed themselves of these
privileges. On _some occasions_ I have seen him whip them severely,
particularly for the crime of trying to obtain their liberty, or for
what was called, "running away." For _this_ they were scourged more
severely than for any thing else. After they have been retaken, I have
seen them stripped naked and suspended by the hands, sometimes to a
tree, sometimes to a post, until their toes barely touched the ground,
and whipped with a cowhide until the blood dripped from their backs. A
boy named Jack, particularly, I have seen served in this way more than
once. When I was quite a child, I recollect it grieved me very much to
see one _tied up_ to be whipped, and I used to intercede with tears in
their behalf, and mingle my cries with theirs, and feel almost willing
to take part of the punishment; I have been severely rebuked by my
father for this kind of sympathy. Yet, such is the hardening nature of
such scenes, that from this kind of commiseration for the suffering
slave, I became so blunted that I could not only witness their stripes
with composure, but _myself_ inflict them, and that without remorse.
One case I have often looked back to with sorrow and contrition,
particularly since I have been convinced that "negroes are men." When
I was perhaps fourteen or fifteen years of age, I undertook to correct
a young fellow named Ned, for some supposed offence; I think it was
leaving a bridle out of its proper place; he being larger and stronger
than myself took hold of my arms and held me, in order to prevent my
striking him; this I considered the height of insolence, and cried for
help, when my father and mother both came running to my rescue. My
father stripped and tied him, and took him into the orchard, where
switches were plenty, and directed me to whip him; when one switch
wore out he supplied me with others. After I had whipped him a while,
he fell on his knees to implore forgiveness, and I kicked him in the
face; my father said, "don't kick him, but whip him;" this I did until
his back was literally covered with _welts_. I know I have repented,
and trust I have obtained pardon for these things.
My father owned a woman, (we used to call aunt Grace,) she was
purchased in Old Virginia. She has told me that her old master, in his
_will_, gave her her freedom, but at his death, his sons had sold her
to my father: when he bought her she manifested some unwillingness to
go with him, when she was put in irons and taken by force. This was
before I was born; but I remember to have seen the irons, and was told
that was what they had been used for. Aunt Grace is still living, and
must be between seventy and eighty years of age; she has, for the last
forty years, been an exemplary Christian. When I was a youth I took
some pains to learn her to read; this is now a great consolation to
her. Since age and infirmity have rendered her of little value to her
"owners," she is permitted to read as much as she pleases; this she
can do, with the aid of glasses, in the old family Bible, which is
almost the only book she has ever looked into. This with some little
mending for the black children, is all she does; she is still held as
a slave. I well remember what a _heart-rending scene_ there was in the
family when _my father sold her husband_; this was, I suppose,
thirty-five years ago. And yet my father was considered one of the
best of masters. I know of few who were better, but of _many_ who were
worse.
The last time I saw my father, which was in the fall of 1832, he
promised me that he would free all his slaves at his death. He died
however without doing it; and I have understood since, that he omitted
it, through the influence of Rev. Dr. Speece, a Presbyterian minister,
who lived in the family, and was a _warm friend of the Colonization
Society_.
About the year 1809 or 10, I became a student of Rev. George Bourne;
he was the first abolitionist I had ever seen, and the first I had
ever heard pray or plead for the oppressed, which gave me the first
misgivings about the _innocence_ of slaveholding. I received
impressions from Mr. Bourne which I could not get rid of,[6] and
determined in my own mind that when I settled in life, it should be in
a free state; this determination I carried into effect in 1813, when I
removed to this place, which I supposed at that time, to be all the
opposition to slavery that was necessary, but the moment I became
convinced that all slaveholding was in itself _sinful_, I became an
abolitionist, which was about four years ago.
[Footnote 6: Mr. Bourne resided seven years in Virginia, "in perils
among false brethren; fiercely persecuted for his faithful testimony
against slavery. More than twenty years since he published a work
entitled 'The Book and Slavery irreconcileable.'"]