I would ten thousand times rather that my children should be the
half-starved paupers of Ireland than to be the most pampered among
the slaves of America. I would rather drudge out my life on a cotton
plantation, till the grave opened to give me rest, than to live with
an unprincipled master and a jealous mistress. The felon’s home in a
penitentiary is preferable. He may repent, and turn from the error of
his ways, and so find peace; but it is not so with a favorite slave.
She is not allowed to have any pride of character. It is deemed a crime
in her to wish to be virtuous.
Mrs. Flint possessed the key to her husband’s character before I was
born. She might have used this knowledge to counsel and to screen
the young and the innocent among her slaves; but for them she had
no sympathy. They were the objects of her constant suspicion and
malevolence. She watched her husband with unceasing vigilance; but
he was well practised in means to evade it. What he could not find
opportunity to say in words he manifested in signs. He invented more
than were ever thought of in a deaf and dumb asylum. I let them pass,
as if I did not understand what he meant; and many were the curses
and threats bestowed on me for my stupidity. One day he caught me
teaching myself to write. He frowned, as if he was not well pleased;
but I suppose he came to the conclusion that such an accomplishment
might help to advance his favorite scheme. Before long, notes were
often slipped into my hand. I would return them, saying, “I can’t read
them, sir.” “Can’t you?” he replied; “then I must read them to you.” He
always finished the reading by asking, “Do you understand?” Sometimes
he would complain of the heat of the tea room, and order his supper to
be placed on a small table in the piazza. He would seat himself there
with a well-satisfied smile, and tell me to stand by and brush away the
flies. He would eat very slowly, pausing between the mouthfuls. These
intervals were employed in describing the happiness I was so foolishly
throwing away, and in threatening me with the penalty that finally
awaited my stubborn disobedience. He boasted much of the forbearance he
had exercised towards me, and reminded me that there was a limit to his
patience. When I succeeded in avoiding opportunities for him to talk
to me at home, I was ordered to come to his office, to do some errand.
When there, I was obliged to stand and listen to such language as he
saw fit to address to me. Sometimes I so openly expressed my contempt
for him that he would become violently enraged, and I wondered why he
did not strike me. Circumstanced as he was, he probably thought it was
better policy to be forbearing. But the state of things grew worse and
worse daily. In desperation I told him that I must and would apply to
my grandmother for protection. He threatened me with death, and worse
than death, if I made any complaint to her. Strange to say, I did not
despair. I was naturally of a buoyant disposition, and always I had a
hope of somehow getting out of his clutches. Like many a poor, simple
slave before me, I trusted that some threads of joy would yet be woven
into my dark destiny.
I had entered my sixteenth year, and every day it became more apparent
that my presence was intolerable to Mrs. Flint. Angry words frequently
passed between her and her husband. He had never punished me himself,
and he would not allow any body else to punish me. In that respect, she
was never satisfied; but, in her angry moods, no terms were too vile
for her to bestow upon me. Yet I, whom she detested so bitterly, had
far more pity for her than he had, whose duty it was to make her life
happy. I never wronged her, or wished to wrong her; and one word of
kindness from her would have brought me to her feet.
After repeated quarrels between the doctor and his wife, he announced
his intention to take his youngest daughter, then four years old, to
sleep in his apartment. It was necessary that a servant should sleep in
the same room, to be on hand if the child stirred. I was selected for
that office, and informed for what purpose that arrangement had been
made. By managing to keep within sight of people, as much as possible,
during the day time, I had hitherto succeeded in eluding my master,
though a razor was often held to my throat to force me to change this
line of policy. At night I slept by the side of my great aunt, where
I felt safe. He was too prudent to come into her room. She was an old
woman, and had been in the family many years. Moreover, as a married
man, and a professional man, he deemed it necessary to save appearances
in some degree. But he resolved to remove the obstacle in the way of
his scheme; and he thought he had planned it so that he should evade
suspicion. He was well aware how much I prized my refuge by the side of
my old aunt, and he determined to dispossess me of it. The first night
the doctor had the little child in his room alone. The next morning,
I was ordered to take my station as nurse the following night. A kind
Providence interposed in my favor. During the day Mrs. Flint heard of
this new arrangement, and a storm followed. I rejoiced to hear it rage.
After a while my mistress sent for me to come to her room. Her first
question was, “Did you know you were to sleep in the doctor’s room?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Who told you?”
“My master.”
“Will you answer truly all the questions I ask?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Tell me, then, as you hope to be forgiven, are you innocent of what I
have accused you?”
“I am.”
She handed me a Bible, and said, “Lay your hand on your heart, kiss
this holy book, and swear before God that you tell me the truth.”