Colonel Lloyd kept a large and finely cultivated garden, which afforded
almost constant employment for four men, besides the chief gardener,
(Mr. M’Durmond.) This garden was probably the greatest attraction of
the place. During the summer months, people came from far and near—from
Baltimore, Easton, and Annapolis—to see it. It abounded in fruits of
almost every description, from the hardy apple of the north to the
delicate orange of the south. This garden was not the least source of
trouble on the plantation. Its excellent fruit was quite a temptation
to the hungry swarms of boys, as well as the older slaves, belonging to
the colonel, few of whom had the virtue or the vice to resist it.
Scarcely a day passed, during the summer, but that some slave had to
take the lash for stealing fruit. The colonel had to resort to all
kinds of stratagems to keep his slaves out of the garden. The last and
most successful one was that of tarring his fence all around; after
which, if a slave was caught with any tar upon his person, it was
deemed sufficient proof that he had either been into the garden, or had
tried to get in. In either case, he was severely whipped by the chief
gardener. This plan worked well; the slaves became as fearful of tar as
of the lash. They seemed to realize the impossibility of touching _tar_
without being defiled.
The colonel also kept a splendid riding equipage. His stable and
carriage-house presented the appearance of some of our large city
livery establishments. His horses were of the finest form and noblest
blood. His carriage-house contained three splendid coaches, three or
four gigs, besides dearborns and barouches of the most fashionable
style.
This establishment was under the care of two slaves—old Barney and
young Barney—father and son. To attend to this establishment was their
sole work. But it was by no means an easy employment; for in nothing
was Colonel Lloyd more particular than in the management of his horses.
The slightest inattention to these was unpardonable, and was visited
upon those, under whose care they were placed, with the severest
punishment; no excuse could shield them, if the colonel only suspected
any want of attention to his horses—a supposition which he frequently
indulged, and one which, of course, made the office of old and young
Barney a very trying one. They never knew when they were safe from
punishment. They were frequently whipped when least deserving, and
escaped whipping when most deserving it. Every thing depended upon the
looks of the horses, and the state of Colonel Lloyd’s own mind when his
horses were brought to him for use. If a horse did not move fast
enough, or hold his head high enough, it was owing to some fault of his
keepers. It was painful to stand near the stable-door, and hear the
various complaints against the keepers when a horse was taken out for
use. “This horse has not had proper attention. He has not been
sufficiently rubbed and curried, or he has not been properly fed; his
food was too wet or too dry; he got it too soon or too late; he was too
hot or too cold; he had too much hay, and not enough of grain; or he
had too much grain, and not enough of hay; instead of old Barney’s
attending to the horse, he had very improperly left it to his son.” To
all these complaints, no matter how unjust, the slave must answer never
a word. Colonel Lloyd could not brook any contradiction from a slave.
When he spoke, a slave must stand, listen, and tremble; and such was
literally the case. I have seen Colonel Lloyd make old Barney, a man
between fifty and sixty years of age, uncover his bald head, kneel down
upon the cold, damp ground, and receive upon his naked and toil-worn
shoulders more than thirty lashes at the time. Colonel Lloyd had three
sons—Edward, Murray, and Daniel,—and three sons-in-law, Mr. Winder, Mr.
Nicholson, and Mr. Lowndes. All of these lived at the Great House Farm,
and enjoyed the luxury of whipping the servants when they pleased, from
old Barney down to William Wilkes, the coach-driver. I have seen Winder
make one of the house-servants stand off from him a suitable distance
to be touched with the end of his whip, and at every stroke raise great
ridges upon his back.
To describe the wealth of Colonel Lloyd would be almost equal to
describing the riches of Job. He kept from ten to fifteen
house-servants. He was said to own a thousand slaves, and I think this
estimate quite within the truth. Colonel Lloyd owned so many that he
did not know them when he saw them; nor did all the slaves of the
out-farms know him. It is reported of him, that, while riding along the
road one day, he met a colored man, and addressed him in the usual
manner of speaking to colored people on the public highways of the
south: “Well, boy, whom do you belong to?” “To Colonel Lloyd,” replied
the slave. “Well, does the colonel treat you well?” “No, sir,” was the
ready reply. “What, does he work you too hard?” “Yes, sir.” “Well,
don’t he give you enough to eat?” “Yes, sir, he gives me enough, such
as it is.”
The colonel, after ascertaining where the slave belonged, rode on; the
man also went on about his business, not dreaming that he had been
conversing with his master. He thought, said, and heard nothing more of
the matter, until two or three weeks afterwards. The poor man was then
informed by his overseer that, for having found fault with his master,
he was now to be sold to a Georgia trader. He was immediately chained
and handcuffed; and thus, without a moment’s warning, he was snatched
away, and forever sundered, from his family and friends, by a hand more
unrelenting than death. This is the penalty of telling the truth, of
telling the simple truth, in answer to a series of plain questions.
It is partly in consequence of such facts, that slaves, when inquired
of as to their condition and the character of their masters, almost
universally say they are contented, and that their masters are kind.
The slaveholders have been known to send in spies among their slaves,
to ascertain their views and feelings in regard to their condition. The
frequency of this has had the effect to establish among the slaves the
maxim, that a still tongue makes a wise head. They suppress the truth
rather than take the consequences of telling it, and in so doing prove
themselves a part of the human family. If they have any thing to say of
their masters, it is generally in their masters’ favor, especially when
speaking to an untried man. I have been frequently asked, when a slave,
if I had a kind master, and do not remember ever to have given a
negative answer; nor did I, in pursuing this course, consider myself as
uttering what was absolutely false; for I always measured the kindness
of my master by the standard of kindness set up among slaveholders
around us. Moreover, slaves are like other people, and imbibe
prejudices quite common to others. They think their own better than
that of others. Many, under the influence of this prejudice, think
their own masters are better than the masters of other slaves; and
this, too, in some cases, when the very reverse is true. Indeed, it is
not uncommon for slaves even to fall out and quarrel among themselves
about the relative goodness of their masters, each contending for the
superior goodness of his own over that of the others. At the very same
time, they mutually execrate their masters when viewed separately. It
was so on our plantation. When Colonel Lloyd’s slaves met the slaves of
Jacob Jepson, they seldom parted without a quarrel about their masters;
Colonel Lloyd’s slaves contending that he was the richest, and Mr.
Jepson’s slaves that he was the smartest, and most of a man. Colonel
Lloyd’s slaves would boast his ability to buy and sell Jacob Jepson.
Mr. Jepson’s slaves would boast his ability to whip Colonel Lloyd.
These quarrels would almost always end in a fight between the parties,
and those that whipped were supposed to have gained the point at issue.
They seemed to think that the greatness of their masters was
transferable to themselves. It was considered as being bad enough to be
a slave; but to be a poor man’s slave was deemed a disgrace indeed!