Mrs. Cox was always very severe and exacting with my mother, and one
occasion, when something did not suit her, she turned on mother like a
fury, and declared, "I am just tired out with the 'white airs' you put
on, and if you don't behave differently, I will make Mr. Cox sell you
down the river at once."
Although mother turned grey with fear, she presented a bold front and
retorted that "she didn't care, she was tired of that place, and
didn't like to live there, nohow." This so infuriated Mr. Cox that he
cried, "How dare a negro say what she liked or what she did not like;
and he would show her what he should do."
So, on the day following, he took my mother to an auction-room on Main
Street and sold her to the highest bidder, for five hundred and fifty
dollars. Oh! God! the pity of it! "In the home of the brave and the
land of the free," in the sight of the stars and stripes--that symbol
of freedom--sold away from her child, to satisfy the anger of a
peevish mistress!
My mother returned to the house to get her few belongings, and
straining me to her breast, begged me to be a good girl, that she was
going to run away, and would buy me as soon as she could. With all the
inborn faith of a child, I believed it most fondly, and when I heard
that she had actually made her escape, three weeks after, my heart
gave an exultant throb and cried, "God is good!"
A large reward was offered, the bloodhounds (curse them and curse
their masters) were set loose on her trail. In the day time she hid in
caves and the surrounding woods, and in the night time, guided by the
wondrous North Star, that blessed lodestone of a slave people, my
mother finally reached Chicago, where she was arrested by the
negro-catchers. At this time the Fugitive Slave Law was in full
operation, and it was against the law of the whole country to aid and
protect an escaped slave; not even a drink of water, for the love of
the Master, might be given, and those who dared to do it (and there
were many such brave hearts, thank God!) placed their lives in danger.
The presence of bloodhounds and "nigger-catchers" in their midst,
created great excitement and scandalized the community. Feeling ran
high and hundreds of people gathered together and declared that mother
should not be returned to slavery; but fearing that Mr. Cox would
wreak his vengeance upon me, my mother finally gave herself up to her
captors, and returned to St. Louis. And so the mothers of Israel have
been ever slain through their deepest affections!
After my mother's return, she decided to sue for her freedom, and for
that purpose employed a good lawyer. She had ample testimony to prove
that she was kidnapped, and it was so fully verified that the jury
decided that she was a free woman, and papers were made out
accordingly.
In the meanwhile, Miss Martha Berry had married Mr. Mitchell and taken
me to live with her. I had never been taught to work, as playing with
the babies had been my sole occupation; therefore, when Mrs. Mitchell
commanded me to do the weekly washing and ironing, I had no more idea
how it was to be done than Mrs. Mitchell herself. But I made the
effort to do what she required, and my failure would have been amusing
had it not been so appalling. In those days filtering was unknown and
the many ways of clearing water were to me an unsolved riddle. I never
had to do it, so it never concerned me how the clothes were ever
washed clean.
As the Mississippi water was even muddier than now, the results of my
washing can be better imagined than described. After soaking and
boiling the clothes in its earthy depths, for a couple of days, in
vain attempt to get them clean, and rinsing through several waters, I
found the clothes were getting darker and darker, until they nearly
approximated my own color. In my despair, I frantically rushed to my
mother and sobbed out my troubles on her kindly breast. So in the
morning, before the white people had arisen, a friend of my mother
came to the house and washed out the clothes. During all this time,
Mrs. Mitchell was scolding vigorously, saying over and over again,
"Lucy, you do not want to work, you are a lazy, good-for-nothing
nigger!" I was angry at being called a nigger, and replied, "You don't
know nothing, yourself, about it, and you expect a poor ignorant girl
to know more than you do yourself; if you had any feeling you would
get somebody to teach me, and then I'd do well enough."
She then gave me a wrapper to do up, and told me if I ruined that as I
did the other clothes, she would whip me severely. I answered, "You
have no business to whip me. I don't belong to you."
My mother had so often told me that she was a free woman and that I
should not die a slave, I always had a feeling of independence, which
would invariably crop out in these encounters with my mistress; and
when I thus spoke, saucily, I must confess, she opened her eyes in
angry amazement and cried:
"You _do_ belong to me, for my papa left you to me in his will, when
you were a baby, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself to talk so to
one that you have been raised with; now, you take that wrapper, and if
you don't do it up properly, I will bring you up with a round turn."
Without further comment, I took the wrapper, which was too handsome to
trust to an inexperienced hand, like Mrs. Mitchell very well knew I
was, and washed it, with the same direful results as chronicled
before. But I could not help it, as heaven is my witness. I was
entirely and hopelessly ignorant! But of course my mistress would not
believe it, and declared over and over again, that I did it on purpose
to provoke her and show my defiance of her wishes. In vain did I
disclaim any such intentions. She was bound to carry out her threat of
whipping me.
I rebelled against such government, and would not permit her to strike
me; she used shovel, tongs and broomstick in vain, as I disarmed her
as fast as she picked up each weapon. Infuriated at her failure, my
opposition and determination not to be whipped, Mrs. Mitchell declared
she would report me to Mr. Mitchell and have him punish me.
When her husband returned home, she immediately entered a list of
complaints against me as long as the moral law, including my failure
to wash her clothes properly, and her inability to break my head for
it; the last indictment seemed to be the heaviest she could bring
against me. I was in the shadow of the doorway as the woman raved,
while Mr. Mitchell listened patiently until the end of his wife's
grievances reached an appeal to him to whip me with the strength that
a man alone could possess.
Then he declared, "Martha, this thing of cutting up and slashing
servants is something I know nothing about, and positively will not
do. I don't believe in slavery, anyhow; it is a curse on this land,
and I wish we were well rid of it."
"Mr. Mitchell, I will not have that saucy baggage around this house,
for if she finds you won't whip her, there will be no living with her,
so you shall just sell her, and I insist upon it."
"Well, Martha," he answered, "I found the girl with you when we were
married, and as you claim her as yours, I shall not interpose any
objections to the disposal of what you choose to call your property,
in any manner you see fit, and I will make arrangements for selling
her at once."
I distinctly overheard all that was said, and was just as determined
not to be sold as I was not to be whipped. My mother's lawyer had told
her to caution me never to go out of the city, if, at any time, the
white people wanted me to go, so I was quite settled as to my course,
in case Mr. Mitchell undertook to sell me.
Several days after this conversation took place, Mrs. Mitchell, with
her baby and nurse, Lucy Wash, made a visit to her grandmother's,
leaving orders that I should be sold before her return; so I was not
surprised to be ordered by Mr. Mitchell to pack up my clothes and get
ready to go down the river, for I was to be sold that morning, and
leave, on the steamboat Alex. Scott, at 3 o'clock in the afternoon.
"Can't I go see my mother, first?" I asked.
"No," he replied, not very gently, "there is no time for that, you can
see her when you come back. So hurry up and get ready, and let us have
no more words about it!"
How I did hate him! To hear him talk as if I were going to take a
pleasure trip, when he knew that if he sold me South, as he intended,
I would never see my dear mother again.
However, I hastily ran up stairs and packed my trunk, but my mother's
injunction, "never to go out of the city," was ever present in my
mind.
Mr. Mitchell was Superintendent of Indian Affairs, his office being in
the dwelling house, and I could hear him giving orders to his clerk,
as I ran lightly down the stairs, out of the front door to the street,
and with fleet foot, I skimmed the road which led to my mother's door,
and, reaching it, stood trembling in every limb with terror and
fatigue.
I could not gain admittance, as my mother was away to work and the
door was locked. A white woman, living next door, and who was always
friendly to mother, told me that she would not return until night. I
clasped my hands in despair and cried, "Oh! the white people have sold
me, and I had to run away to keep from being sent down the river."
This white lady, whose name I am sorry I cannot remember, sympathized
with me, as she knew my mother's story and had written many letters
for her, so she offered me the key of her house, which, fortunately,
fitted my mother's door, and I was soon inside, cowering with fear in
the darkness, magnifying every noise and every passing wind, until my
imagination had almost converted the little cottage into a boat, and I
was steaming down South, away from my mother, as fast as I could go.
Late at night mother returned, and was told all that had happened, and
after getting supper, she took me to a friend's house for
concealment, until the next day.
As soon as Mr. Mitchell had discovered my unlooked-for departure, he
was furious, for he did not think I had sense enough to run away; he
accused the coachman of helping me off, and, despite the poor man's
denials, hurried him away to the calaboose and put him under the lash,
in order to force a confession. Finding this course unavailing, he
offered a reward to the negro catchers, on the same evening, but their
efforts were equally fruitless.