DESTRUCTION OF THE COTTON CROP IN 1845--DEMAND FOR LABORERS IN ST.
MARY'S PARISH--SENT THITHER IN A DROVE--THE ORDER OF THE MARCH--THE
GRAND COTEAU--HIRED TO JUDGE TURNER ON BAYOU SALLE--APPOINTED
DRIVER IN HIS SUGAR HOUSE--SUNDAY SERVICES SLAVE FURNITURE, HOW
OBTAINED--THE PARTY AT YARNEY'S IN CENTREVILLE--GOOD FORTUNE--THE
CAPTAIN OF THE STEAMER--HIS REFUSAL TO SECRETE ME--RETURN TO
BAYOU BOEUF--SIGHT OF TIBEATS--PATSEY'S SORROWS--TUMULT AND
CONTENTION--HUNTING THE COON AND OPOSSUM--THE CUNNING OF THE
LATTER--THE LEAN CONDITION OF THE SLAVE--DESCRIPTION OF THE FISH
TRAP--THE MURDER OF THE MAN FROM NATCHEZ--EPPS CHALLENGED BY
MARSHALL--THE INFLUENCE OF SLAVERY--THE LOVE OF FREEDOM.
The first year of Epps' residence on the bayou, 1845, the caterpillars
almost totally destroyed the cotton crop throughout that region.
There was little to be done, so that the slaves were necessarily idle
half the time. However, there came a rumor to Bayou Boeuf that wages
were high, and laborers in great demand on the sugar plantations in
St. Mary's parish. This parish is situated on the coast of the Gulf
of Mexico, about one hundred and forty miles from Avoyelles. The Rio
Teche, a considerable stream, flows through St. Mary's to the gulf.
It was determined by the planters, on the receipt of this
intelligence, to make up a drove of slaves to be sent down to Tuckapaw
in St. Mary's, for the purpose of hiring them out in the cane fields.
Accordingly, in the month of September, there were one hundred and
forty-seven collected at Holmesville, Abram, Bob and myself among the
number. Of these about one-half were women. Epps, Alonson Pierce,
Henry Toler, and Addison Roberts, were the white men, selected to
accompany, and take charge of the drove. They had a two-horse carriage
and two saddle horses for their use. A large wagon, drawn by four
horses, and driven by John, a boy belonging to Mr. Roberts, carried
the blankets and provisions.
About 2 o'clock in the afternoon, having been fed, preparations were
made to depart. The duty assigned me was, to take charge of the
blankets and provisions, and see that none were lost by the way. The
carriage proceeded in advance, the wagon following; behind this the
slaves were arranged, while the two horsemen brought up the rear, and
in this order the procession moved out of Holmesville.
That night we reached a Mr. McCrow's plantation, a distance of ten or
fifteen miles, when we were ordered to halt. Large fires were built,
and each one spreading his blanket on the ground, laid down upon it.
The white men lodged in the great house. An hour before day we were
aroused by the drivers coming among us, cracking their whips and
ordering us to arise. Then the blankets were rolled up, and being
severally delivered to me and deposited in the wagon, the procession
set forth again.
The following night it rained violently. We were all drenched, our
clothes saturated with mud and water. Reaching an open shed, formerly
a gin-house, we found beneath it such shelter as it afforded. There
was not room for all of us to lay down. There we remained, huddled
together, through the night, continuing our march, as usual, in the
morning. During the journey we were fed twice a day, boiling our
bacon and baking our corn-cake at the fires in the same manner as in
our huts. We passed through Lafayetteville, Mountsville, New-Town,
to Centreville, where Bob and Uncle Abram were hired. Our number
decreased as we advanced--nearly every sugar plantation requiring the
services of one or more.
On our route we passed the Grand Coteau or prairie, a vast space of
level, monotonous country, without a tree, except an occasional one
which had been transplanted near some dilapidated dwelling. It was
once thickly populated, and under cultivation, but for some cause
had been abandoned. The business of the scattered inhabitants that
now dwell upon it is principally raising cattle. Immense herds were
feeding upon it as we passed. In the centre of the Grand Coteau one
feels as if he were on the ocean, out of sight of land. As far as the
eye can see, in all directions, it is but a ruined and deserted waste.
I was hired to Judge Turner, a distinguished man and extensive
planter, whose large estate is situated on Bayou Salle, within a few
miles of the gulf. Bay on Salle is a small stream flowing into the bay
of Atchafalaya. For some days I was employed at Turner's in repairing
his sugar house, when a cane knife was put into my hand, and with
thirty or forty others, I was sent into the field. I found no such
difficulty in learning the art of cutting cane that I had in picking
cotton. It came to me naturally and intuitively, and in a short time
I was able to keep up with the fastest knife. Before the cutting was
over, however, Judge Turner transferred me from the field to the sugar
house, to act there in the capacity of driver. From the time of the
commencement of sugar making to the close, the grinding and boiling
does not cease day or night. The whip was given me with directions to
use it upon any one who was caught standing idle. If I failed to obey
them to the letter, there was another one for my own back. In addition
to this my duty was to call on and off the different gangs at the
proper time. I had no regular periods of rest, and could never snatch
but a few moments of sleep at a time.
It is the custom in Louisiana, as I presume it is in other slave
States, to allow the slave to retain whatever compensation he may
obtain for services performed on Sundays. In this way, only, are they
able to provide themselves with any luxury or convenience whatever.
When a slave, purchased, or kidnapped in the North, is transported to
a cabin on Bayou Boeuf he is furnished with neither knife, nor fork,
nor dish, nor kettle, nor any other thing in the shape of crockery, or
furniture of any nature or description. He is furnished with a blanket
before he reaches there, and wrapping that around him, he can either
stand up, or lie down upon the ground, or on a board, if his master
has no use for it. He is at liberty to find a gourd in which to keep
his meal, or he can eat his corn from the cob, just as he pleases.
To ask the master for a knife, or skillet, or any small convenience
of the kind, would be answered with a kick, or laughed at as a joke.
Whatever necessary article of this nature is found in a cabin has been
purchased with Sunday money. However injurious to the morals, it is
certainly a blessing to the physical condition of the slave, to be
permitted to break the Sabbath. Otherwise there would be no way to
provide himself with any utensils, which seem to be indispensable to
him who is compelled to be his own cook.
On cane plantations in sugar time, there is no distinction as to
the days of the week. It is well understood that all hands must
labor on the Sabbath, and it is equally well understood that those
especially who are hired, as I was to Judge Turner, and others in
succeeding years, shall receive remuneration for it. It is usual,
also, in the most hurrying time of cotton-picking, to require the
same extra service. From this source, slaves generally are afforded
an opportunity of earning sufficient to purchase a knife, a kettle,
tobacco and so forth. The females, discarding the latter luxury, are
apt to expend their little revenue in the purchase of gaudy ribbons,
wherewithal to deck their hair in the merry season of the holidays.
I remained in St. Mary's until the first of January, during which
time my Sunday money amounted to ten dollars. I met with other
good fortune, for which I was indebted to my violin, my constant
companion, the source of profit, and soother of my sorrows during
years of servitude. There was a grand party of whites assembled at
Mr. Yarney's, in Centreville, a hamlet in the vicinity of Turner's
plantation. I was employed to play for them, and so well pleased were
the merry-makers with my performance, that a contribution was taken
for my benefit, which amounted to seventeen dollars.
With this sum in possession, I was looked upon by my fellows as a
millionaire. It afforded me great pleasure to look at it--to count
it over and over again, day after day. Visions of cabin furniture,
of water pails, of pocket knives, new shoes and coats and hats,
floated through my fancy, and up through all rose the triumphant
contemplation, that I was the wealthiest "nigger" on Bayou Boeuf.
Vessels run up the Rio Teche to Centreville. While there, I was bold
enough one day to present myself before the captain of a steamer, and
beg permission to hide myself among the freight. I was emboldened to
risk the hazard of such a step, from overhearing a conversation, in
the course of which I ascertained he was a native of the North. I did
not relate to him the particulars of my history, but only expressed
an ardent desire to escape from slavery to a free State. He pitied
me, but said it would be impossible to avoid the vigilant custom
house officers in New-Orleans, and that detection would subject him
to punishment, and his vessel to confiscation. My earnest entreaties
evidently excited his sympathies, and doubtless he would have yielded
to them, could he have done so with any kind of safety. I was
compelled to smother the sudden flame that lighted up my bosom with
sweet hopes of liberation, and turn my steps once more towards the
increasing darkness of despair.
Immediately after this event the drove assembled at Centreville, and
several of the owners having arrived and collected the monies due
for our services, we were driven back to Bayou Boeuf. It was on our
return, while passing through a small village, that I caught sight of
Tibeats, seated in the door of a dirty grocery, looking somewhat seedy
and out of repair. Passion and poor whisky, I doubt not, have ere this
laid him on the shelf.
During our absence, I learned from Aunt Phebe and Patsey, that the
latter had been getting deeper and deeper into trouble. The poor
girl was truly an object of pity. "Old Hogjaw," the name by which
Epps was called, when the slaves were by themselves, had beaten her
more severely and frequently than ever. As surely as he came from
Holmesville, elated with liquor--and it was often in those days--he
would whip her, merely to gratify the mistress; would punish her to
an extent almost beyond endurance, for an offence of which he himself
was the sole and irresistible cause. In his sober moments he could not
always be prevailed upon to indulge his wife's insatiable thirst for
vengeance.
To be rid of Patsey--to place her beyond sight or reach, by sale, or
death, or in any other manner, of late years, seemed to be the ruling
thought and passion of my mistress. Patsey had been a favorite when a
child, even in the great house. She had been petted and admired for
her uncommon sprightliness and pleasant disposition. She had been
fed many a time, so Uncle Abram said, even on biscuit and milk, when
the madam, in her younger days, was wont to call her to the piazza,
and fondle her as she would a playful Kitten. But a sad change had
come over the spirit of the woman. Now, only black and angry fiends
ministered in the temple of her heart, until she could look on Patsey
but with concentrated venom.
Mistress Epps was not naturally such an evil woman, after all. She was
possessed of the devil, jealousy, it is true, but aside from that,
there was much in her character to admire. Her father, Mr. Roberts,
resided in Cheneyville, an influential and honorable man, and as
much respected throughout the parish as any other citizen. She had
been well educated at some institution this side the Mississippi;
was beautiful, accomplished, and usually good-humored. She was kind
to all of us but Patsey--frequently, in the absence of her husband,
sending out to us some little dainty from her own table. In other
situations--in a different society from that which exists on the
shores of Bayou Boeuf, she would have been pronounced an elegant and
fascinating woman. An ill wind it was that blew her into the arms of
Epps.
He respected and loved his wife as much as a coarse nature like his
is capable of loving, but supreme selfishness always overmastered
conjugal affection.
"He loved as well as baser natures can,
But a mean heart and soul were in that man."
He was ready to gratify any whim--to grant any request she made,
provided it did not cost too much. Patsey was equal to any two of his
slaves in the cotton field. He could not replace her with the same
money she would bring. The idea of disposing of her, therefore, could
not be entertained. The mistress did not regard her at all in that
light. The pride of the haughty woman was aroused; the blood of the
fiery southern boiled at the sight of Patsey, and nothing less than
trampling out the life of the helpless bondwoman would satisfy her.
Sometimes the current of her wrath turned upon him whom she had
just cause to hate. But the storm of angry words would pass over at
length, and there would be a season of calm again. At such times
Patsey trembled with fear, and cried as if her heart would break,
for she knew from painful experience, that if mistress should work
herself to the red-hot pitch of rage, Epps would quiet her at last
with a promise that Patsey should be flogged--a promise he was sure
to keep. Thus did pride, and jealousy, and vengeance war with
avarice and brute-passion in the mansion of my master, filling it
with daily tumult and contention. Thus, upon the head of Patsey--the
simple-minded slave, in whose heart God had implanted the seeds of
virtue--the force of all these domestic tempests spent itself at last.
During the summer succeeding my return from St. Mary's parish, I
conceived a plan of providing myself with food, which, though simple,
succeeded beyond expectation. It has been followed by many others
in my condition, up and down the bayou, and of such benefit has it
become that I am almost persuaded to look upon myself as a benefactor.
That summer the worms got into the bacon. Nothing but ravenous hunger
could induce us to swallow it. The weekly allowance of meal scarcely
sufficed to satisfy us. It was customary with us, as it is with all in
that region, where the allowance is exhausted before Saturday night,
or is in such a state as to render it nauseous and disgusting, to
hunt in the swamps for coon and opossum. This, however, must be done
at night, after the day's work is accomplished. There are planters
whose slaves, for months at a time, have no other meat than such as is
obtained in this manner. No objections are made to hunting, inasmuch
as it dispenses with drafts upon the smoke-house, and because every
marauding coon that is killed is so much saved from the standing corn.
They are hunted with dogs and clubs, slaves not being allowed the use
of fire-arms.
The flesh of the coon is palatable, but verily there is nothing in
all butcherdom so delicious as a roasted 'possum. They are a round,
rather long-bodied, little animal, of a whitish color, with nose like
a pig, and caudal extremity like a rat. They burrow among the roots
and in the hollows of the gum tree, and are clumsy and slow of motion.
They are deceitful and cunning creatures. On receiving the slightest
tap of a stick, they will roll over on the ground and feign death. If
the hunter leaves him, in pursuit of another, without first taking
particular pains to break his neck, the chances are, on his return, he
is not to be found. The little animal has out witted the enemy--has
"played 'possum"--and is off. But after a long and hard day's work,
the weary slave feels little like going to the swamp for his supper,
and half the time prefers throwing himself on the cabin floor without
it. It is for the interest of the master that the servant should not
suffer in health from starvation, and it is also for his interest that
he should not become gross from over-feeding. In the estimation of the
owner, a slave is the most serviceable when in rather a lean and lank
condition, such a condition as the race-horse is in, when fitted for
the course, and in that condition they are generally to be found on
the sugar and cotton plantations along Red River.
My cabin was within a few rods of the bayou bank, and necessity
being indeed the mother of invention, I resolved upon a mode of
obtaining the requisite amount of food, without the trouble of
resorting nightly to the woods. This was to construct a fish trap.
Having, in my mind, conceived the manner in which it could be done,
the next Sunday I set about putting it into practical execution. It
may be impossible for me to convey to the reader a full and correct
idea of its construction, but the following will serve as a general
description:
A frame between two and three feet square is made, and of a greater
or less height, according to the depth of water. Boards or slats are
nailed on three sides of this frame, not so closely, however, as to
prevent the water circulating freely through it. A door is fitted
into the fourth side, in such manner that it will slide easily up
and down in the grooves cut in the two posts. A movable bottom is
then so fitted that it can be raised to the top of the frame without
difficulty. In the centre of the movable bottom an auger hole is
bored, and into this one end of a handle or round stick is fastened
on the under side so loosely that it will turn. The handle ascends
from the centre of the movable bottom to the top of the frame, or as
much higher as is desirable. Up and down this handle, in a great many
places, are gimlet holes, through which small sticks are inserted,
extending to opposite sides of the frame. So many of these small
sticks are running out from the handle in all directions, that a fish
of any considerable dimensions cannot pass through without hitting one
of them. The frame is then placed in the water and made stationary.
The trap is "set" by sliding or drawing up the door, and kept in that
position by another stick, one end of which rests in a notch on the
inner side, the other end in a notch made in the handle, running up
from the centre of the movable bottom. The trap is baited by rolling
a handful of wet meal and cotton together until it becomes hard, and
depositing it in the back part of the frame. A fish swimming through
the upraised door towards the bait, necessarily strikes one of the
small sticks turning the handle, which displacing the stick supporting
the door, the latter falls, securing the fish within the frame. Taking
hold of the top of the handle, the movable bottom is then drawn up to
the surface of the water, and the fish taken out. There may have been
other such traps in use before mine was constructed, but if there were
I had never happened to see one. Bayou Boeuf abounds in fish of large
size and excellent quality, and after this time I was very rarely in
want of one for myself, or for my comrades. Thus a mine was opened--a
new resource was developed, hitherto unthought of by the enslaved
children of Africa, who toil and hunger along the shores of that
sluggish, but prolific stream.
About the time of which I am now writing, an event occurred in our
immediate neighborhood, which made a deep impression upon me, and
which shows the state of society existing there, and the manner in
which affronts are oftentimes avenged. Directly opposite our quarters,
on the other side of the bayou, was situated the plantation of
Mr. Marshall. He belonged to a family among the most wealthy and
aristocratic in the country. A gentleman from the vicinity of Natchez
had been negotiating with him for the purchase of the estate. One
day a messenger came in great haste to our plantation, saying that a
bloody and fearful battle was going on at Marshall's--that blood had
been spilled--and unless the combatants were forthwith separated, the
result would be disastrous.
On repairing to Marshall's house, a scene presented itself that
beggars description. On the floor of one of the rooms lay the ghastly
corpse of the man from Natchez, while Marshall, enraged and covered
with wounds and blood, was stalking back and forth, "breathing out
threatenings and slaughter." A difficulty had arisen in the course of
their negotiation, high words ensued, when drawing their weapons, the
deadly strife began that ended so unfortunately. Marshall was never
placed in confinement. A sort of trial or investigation was had at
Marksville, when he was acquitted, and returned to his plantation,
rather more respected, as I thought, than ever, from the fact that the
blood of a fellow being was on his soul.
Epps interested himself in his behalf, accompanying him to Marksville,
and on all occasions loudly justifying him, but his services in this
respect did not afterwards deter a kinsman of this same Marshall
from seeking his life also. A brawl occurred between them over a
gambling-table, which terminated in a deadly feud. Riding up on
horseback in front of the house one day, armed with pistols and
bowie knife, Marshall challenged him to come forth and make a final
settlement of the quarrel, or he would brand him as a coward, and
shoot him like a dog the first opportunity. Not through cowardice,
nor from any conscientious scruples, in my opinion, but through the
influence of his wife, he was restrained from accepting the challenge
of his enemy. A reconciliation, however, was effected afterward, since
which time they have been on terms of the closest intimacy.
Such occurrences, which would bring upon the parties concerned in them
merited and condign punishment in the Northern States, are frequent on
the bayou, and pass without notice, and almost without comment. Every
man carries his bowie knife, and when two fall out, they set to work
hacking and thrusting at each other, more like savages than civilized
and enlightened beings.
The existence of Slavery in its most cruel form among them, has a
tendency to brutalize the humane and finer feelings of their nature.
Daily witnesses of human suffering--listening to the agonizing
screeches of the slave--beholding him writhing beneath the merciless
lash--bitten and torn by dogs--dying without attention, and buried
without shroud or coffin--it cannot otherwise be expected, than
that they should become brutified and reckless of human life. It
is true there are many kind-hearted and good men in the parish of
Avoyelles--such men as William Ford--who can look with pity upon
the sufferings of a slave, just as there are, over all the world,
sensitive and sympathetic spirits, who cannot look with indifference
upon the sufferings of any creature which the Almighty has endowed
with life. It is not the fault of the slaveholder that he is cruel, so
much as it is the fault of the system under which he lives. He cannot
withstand the influence of habit and associations that surround him.
Taught from earliest childhood, by all that he sees and hears, that
the rod is for the slave's back, he will not be apt to change his
opinions in maturer years.
There may be humane masters, as there certainly are inhuman
ones--there may be slaves well-clothed, well-fed, and happy, as there
surely are those half-clad, half-starved and miserable; nevertheless,
the institution that tolerates such wrong and inhumanity as I have
witnessed, is a cruel, unjust, and barbarous one. Men may write
fictions portraying lowly life as it is, or as it is not--may
expatiate with owlish gravity upon the bliss of ignorance--discourse
flippantly from arm chairs of the pleasures of slave life; but let
them toil with him in the field--sleep with him in the cabin--feed
with him on husks; let them behold him scourged, hunted, trampled
on, and they will come back with another story in their mouths.
Let them know the _heart_ of the poor slave--learn his secret
thoughts--thoughts he dare not utter in the hearing of the white man;
let them sit by him in the silent watches of the night--converse with
him in trustful confidence, of "life, liberty, and the pursuit of
happiness," and they will find that ninety-nine out of every hundred
are intelligent enough to understand their situation, and to cherish
in their bosoms the love of freedom, as passionately as themselves.