After my lover went away, Dr. Flint contrived a new plan. He seemed to
have an idea that my fear of my mistress was his greatest obstacle.
In the blandest tones, he told me that he was going to build a small
house for me, in a secluded place, four miles away from the town. I
shuddered; but I was constrained to listen, while he talked of his
intention to give me a home of my own, and to make a lady of me.
Hitherto, I had escaped my dreaded fate, by being in the midst of
people. My grandmother had already had high words with my master about
me. She had told him pretty plainly what she thought of his character,
and there was considerable gossip in the neighborhood about our
affairs, to which the open-mouthed jealousy of Mrs. Flint contributed
not a little. When my master said he was going to build a house for
me, and that he could do it with little trouble and expense, I was in
hopes something would happen to frustrate his scheme; but I soon heard
that the house was actually begun. I vowed before my Maker that I would
never enter it. I had rather toil on the plantation from dawn till
dark; I had rather live and die in jail, than drag on, from day to day,
through such a living death. I was determined that the master, whom I
so hated and loathed, who had blighted the prospects of my youth, and
made my life a desert, should not, after my long struggle with him,
succeed at last in trampling his victim under his feet. I would do any
thing, every thing, for the sake of defeating him. What _could_ I do?
I thought and thought, till I became desperate, and made a plunge into
the abyss.
And now, reader, I come to a period in my unhappy life, which I would
gladly forget if I could. The remembrance fills me with sorrow and
shame. It pains me to tell you of it; but I have promised to tell
you the truth, and I will do it honestly, let it cost me what it
may. I will not try to screen myself behind the plea of compulsion
from a master; for it was not so. Neither can I plead ignorance or
thoughtlessness. For years, my master had done his utmost to pollute my
mind with foul images, and to destroy the pure principles inculcated by
my grandmother, and the good mistress of my childhood. The influences
of slavery had had the same effect on me that they had on other young
girls; they had made me prematurely knowing, concerning the evil
ways of the world. I knew what I did, and I did it with deliberate
calculation.
But, O, ye happy women, whose purity has been sheltered from childhood,
who have been free to choose the objects of your affection, whose homes
are protected by law, do not judge the poor desolate slave girl too
severely! If slavery had been abolished, I, also, could have married
the man of my choice; I could have had a home shielded by the laws; and
I should have been spared the painful task of confessing what I am now
about to relate; but all my prospects had been blighted by slavery. I
wanted to keep myself pure; and, under the most adverse circumstances,
I tried hard to preserve my self-respect; but I was struggling alone
in the powerful grasp of the demon Slavery; and the monster proved too
strong for me. I felt as if I was forsaken by God and man; as if all my
efforts must be frustrated; and I became reckless in my despair.
I have told you that Dr. Flint’s persecutions and his wife’s jealousy
had given rise to some gossip in the neighborhood. Among others, it
chanced that a white unmarried gentleman had obtained some knowledge
of the circumstances in which I was placed. He knew my grandmother,
and often spoke to me in the street. He became interested for me, and
asked questions about my master, which I answered in part. He expressed
a great deal of sympathy, and a wish to aid me. He constantly sought
opportunities to see me, and wrote to me frequently. I was a poor slave
girl, only fifteen years old.
So much attention from a superior person was, of course, flattering;
for human nature is the same in all. I also felt grateful for his
sympathy, and encouraged by his kind words. It seemed to me a great
thing to have such a friend. By degrees, a more tender feeling crept
into my heart. He was an educated and eloquent gentleman; too eloquent,
alas, for the poor slave girl who trusted in him. Of course I saw
whither all this was tending. I knew the impassable gulf between us;
but to be an object of interest to a man who is not married, and who
is not her master, is agreeable to the pride and feelings of a slave,
if her miserable situation has left her any pride or sentiment. It
seems less degrading to give one’s self, than to submit to compulsion.
There is something akin to freedom in having a lover who has no control
over you, except that which he gains by kindness and attachment. A
master may treat you as rudely as he pleases, and you dare not speak;
moreover, the wrong does not seem so great with an unmarried man, as
with one who has a wife to be made unhappy. There may be sophistry
in all this; but the condition of a slave confuses all principles of
morality, and, in fact, renders the practice of them impossible.
When I found that my master had actually begun to build the lonely
cottage, other feelings mixed with those I have described. Revenge, and
calculations of interest, were added to flattered vanity and sincere
gratitude for kindness. I knew nothing would enrage Dr. Flint so much
as to know that I favored another; and it was something to triumph over
my tyrant even in that small way. I thought he would revenge himself by
selling me, and I was sure my friend, Mr. Sands, would buy me. He was
a man of more generosity and feeling than my master, and I thought my
freedom could be easily obtained from him. The crisis of my fate now
came so near that I was desperate. I shuddered to think of being the
mother of children that should be owned by my old tyrant. I knew that
as soon as a new fancy took him, his victims were sold far off to get
rid of them; especially if they had children. I had seen several women
sold, with his babies at the breast. He never allowed his offspring
by slaves to remain long in sight of himself and his wife. Of a man
who was not my master I could ask to have my children well supported;
and in this case, I felt confident I should obtain the boon. I also
felt quite sure that they would be made free. With all these thoughts
revolving in my mind, and seeing no other way of escaping the doom I
so much dreaded, I made a headlong plunge. Pity me, and pardon me,
O virtuous reader! You never knew what it is to be a slave; to be
entirely unprotected by law or custom; to have the laws reduce you to
the condition of a chattel, entirely subject to the will of another.
You never exhausted your ingenuity in avoiding the snares, and eluding
the power of a hated tyrant; you never shuddered at the sound of his
footsteps, and trembled within hearing of his voice. I know I did
wrong. No one can feel it more sensibly than I do. The painful and
humiliating memory will haunt me to my dying day. Still, in looking
back, calmly, on the events of my life, I feel that the slave woman
ought not to be judged by the same standard as others.
The months passed on. I had many unhappy hours. I secretly mourned
over the sorrow I was bringing on my grandmother, who had so tried to
shield me from harm. I knew that I was the greatest comfort of her old
age, and that it was a source of pride to her that I had not degraded
myself, like most of the slaves. I wanted to confess to her that I was
no longer worthy of her love; but I could not utter the dreaded words.
As for Dr. Flint, I had a feeling of satisfaction and triumph in the
thought of telling _him_. From time to time he told me of his intended
arrangements, and I was silent. At last, he came and told me the
cottage was completed, and ordered me to go to it. I told him I would
never enter it. He said, “I have heard enough of such talk as that. You
shall go, if you are carried by force; and you shall remain there.”