MAIMED FOR LIFE.
TAKING CARE OF MY DRUNKEN MASTER.--HIS FIGHT WITH
AN OVERSEER.--RESCUE HIM.--AM TERRIBLY BEATEN BY
THE OVERSEER.--MY MASTER SEEKS REDRESS AT LAW, BUT
FAILS.--SUFFERINGS THEN AND SINCE.--RETAIN MY POST AS
SUPERINTENDENT.
The difference between the manner in which it was designed that all
men should regard one another as children of the same Father, and the
manner in which men actually do treat each other, as if they were
placed here for mutual annoyance and destruction, is well exemplified
by an incident that happened to me within a year or two from this
period; that is, when I was nineteen or twenty years old. My master's
habits were such as were common enough among the dissipated planters
of the neighborhood; and one of their frequent practices was to
assemble on Saturday or Sunday, which were their holidays, and gamble,
run horses, or fight game-cocks, discuss politics, and drink whiskey
and brandy and water all day long. Perfectly aware that they would
not be able to find their own way home at night, each one ordered his
body-servant to come after him and help him home. I was chosen for
this confidential duty by my master; and many is the time I have held
him on his horse, when he could not hold himself in the saddle, and
walked by his side in darkness and mud from the tavern to his house.
Of course, quarrels and brawls of the most violent description were
frequent consequences of these meetings; and whenever they became
especially dangerous, and glasses were thrown, dirks drawn, and
pistols fired, it was the duty of the slaves to rush in, and each
one drag his master from the fight, and carry him home. To tell the
truth, this was a part of my business for which I felt no reluctance.
I was young, remarkably athletic and self-relying, and in such affrays
I carried it with a high hand, and would elbow my way among the
whites,--whom it would have been almost death for me to strike,--seize
my master and drag him out, mount him on his horse, or crowd him into
his buggy, with the ease with which I would handle a bag of corn. I
knew that I was doing for him what he could not do for himself, and
showing my superiority to others, and acquiring their respect in some
degree, at the same time.
On one of these occasions my master got into a quarrel with his
brother's overseer, Bryce Litton. All present sided with Litton
against him, and soon there was a general row. I was sitting, at the
time, out on the front steps of the tavern, and, hearing the scuffle,
rushed in to look after my charge. My master, a stout man and a
terrible bruiser, could generally hold his own in an ordinary general
fight, and clear a handsome space around him; but now he was cornered,
and a dozen were striking at him with fists, crockery, chairs, and
anything that came handy. The moment he saw me he hallooed, "That's
it, Sie! pitch in! show me fair play." It was a rough business, and I
went in roughly, shoving, tripping, and doing my best for the rescue.
With infinite trouble, and many a bruise on my own head and shoulders,
I at length got him out of the room. He was crazy with drink and rage,
and struggled hard with me to get back and renew the fight. But I
managed to force him into his wagon, jump in, and drive off.
By ill-luck, in the height of the scuffle, Bryce Litton got a severe
fall. Whether the whisky he had drank, or a chance shove from me, was
the cause, I am unable to say. He, however, attributed it to me, and
treasured up his vengeance for the first favorable opportunity. The
opportunity soon came.
About a week afterwards I was sent by my master to a place a few miles
distant, on horseback, with some letters. I took a short cut through
a lane, separated by gates from the high road, and bounded by a fence
on each side. This lane passed through some of the farm owned by my
master's brother, and his overseer was in the adjoining field, with
three negroes, when I went by. On my return, half an hour afterwards,
the overseer was sitting on the fence; but I could see nothing of
the black fellows. I rode on, utterly unsuspicious of any trouble;
but as I approached he jumped off the fence, and at the same moment
two of the negroes sprang up from under the bushes where they had
been concealed, and stood with him immediately in front of me, while
the third sprang over the fence just behind me. I was thus enclosed
between what I could no longer doubt were hostile forces. The overseer
seized my horse's bridle, and ordered me to alight, in the usual
elegant phraseology addressed by such men to slaves. I asked what I
was to alight for. "To take the cursedest flogging you ever had in
your life, you d----d black scoundrel." "But what am I to be flogged
for, Mr. L.?" I asked. "Not a word," said he, "but 'light at once, and
take off your jacket." I saw there was nothing else to be done, and
slipped off the horse on the opposite side from him. "Now take off
your shirt," cried he; and as I demurred at this, he lifted a stick he
had in his hand to strike me, but so suddenly and violently that he
frightened the horse, which broke away from him and ran home. I was
thus left without means of escape, to sustain the attacks of four men,
as well as I might. In avoiding Mr. L.'s blow, I had accidentally got
into a corner of the fence, where I could not be approached except in
front. The overseer called upon the negroes to seize me; but they,
knowing something of my physical power, were rather slow to obey. At
length they did their best, and as they brought themselves within my
reach, I knocked them down successively; and one of them trying to
trip up my feet when he was down, I gave him a kick with my heavy
shoe, which knocked out several teeth, and sent him howling away.
Meanwhile Bryce Litton played away on my head with a stick, not heavy
enough, indeed, to knock me down, but drawing blood freely; shouting
all the while, "Won't you give up! won't you give up! you black son
of a bitch!" Exasperated at my defence, he suddenly seized a heavy
fence-rail, and rushed at me to bring matters to a sudden close. The
ponderous blow fell; I lifted my arm to ward it off; the bone cracked
like a pipe-stem, and I fell headlong to the ground. Repeated blows
then rained on my back, till both shoulder-blades were broken, and the
blood gushed copiously from my mouth. In vain the negroes interposed.
"Didn't you see the damned nigger strike me?" Of course they must
say "yes," although the lying coward had avoided close quarters, and
fought with his stick alone. At length, his vengeance satisfied, he
desisted, telling me to learn what it was to strike a white man.
Meanwhile an alarm had been raised at the house by the return of the
horse without his rider, and my master started off with a small party
to learn what the trouble was. When he first saw me he was swearing
with rage. "You've been fighting, you damned nigger!" I told him Bryce
Litton had been beating me, because I shoved him the other night at
the tavern, when they had a fuss. Seeing how much I was injured, he
became still more fearfully mad; and after having me carried home,
mounted his horse and rode over to Montgomery Court House, to enter
a complaint. Little good came of it. Litton swore that when he spoke
to me in the lane, I "sassed" him, jumped off my horse and made at
him, and would have killed him but for the help of his negroes. Of
course no negro's testimony could be admitted against a white man,
and he was acquitted. My master was obliged to pay all the costs of
court; and although he had the satisfaction of calling Litton a liar
and scoundrel, and giving him a tremendous bruising, still even this
partial compensation was rendered less gratifying by what followed,
which was a suit for damages and a heavy fine.
My sufferings after this cruel treatment were intense. Besides my
broken arm and the wounds on my head, I could feel and hear the pieces
of my shoulder-blades grate against each other with every breath.
No physician or surgeon was called to dress my wounds; and I never
knew one to be called on Riley's estate on any occasion whatever. "A
nigger will get well anyway," was a fixed principle of faith, and
facts seemed to justify it. The robust, physical health produced by
a life of out-door labor, made our wounds heal up with as little
inflammation as they do in the case of cattle. I was attended by my
master's sister, Miss Patty, as we called her, the Esculapius of the
plantation. She was a powerful, big-boned woman, who flinched at no
responsibility, from wrenching out teeth to setting bones. I have
seen her go into the house and get a rifle to shoot a furious ox that
the negroes were in vain trying to butcher. She splintered my arm and
bound up my back as well as she knew how. Alas! it was but cobbler's
work. From that day to this I have been unable to raise my hands as
high as my head. It was five months before I could work at all, and
the first time I tried to plough, a hard knock of the colter against
a stone shattered my shoulder-blades again, and gave me even greater
agony than at first. And so I have gone through life maimed and
mutilated. Practice in time enabled me to perform many of the farm
labors with considerable efficiency; but the free, vigorous play of
muscle and arm was gone forever.
My situation as overseer I retained, together with the especial favor
of my master, who was not displeased either with saving the expense of
a large salary for a white superintendent, or with the superior crops
I was able to raise for him. I will not deny that I used his property
more freely than he would have done himself, in supplying his people
with better food; but if I cheated him in this way, in small matters,
it was unequivocally for his own benefit in more important ones; and
I accounted, with the strictest honesty, for every dollar I received
in the sale of the property entrusted to me. Gradually the disposal of
everything raised on the farm,--the wheat, oats, hay, fruit, butter,
and whatever else there might be,--was confided to me, as it was quite
evident that I could and did sell for better prices than any one
else he could employ; and he was quite incompetent to attend to the
business himself. For many years I was his factotum, and supplied him
with all his means for all his purposes, whether they were good or
bad. I had no reason to think highly of his moral character; but it
was my duty to be faithful to him in the position in which he placed
me; and I can boldly declare, before God and man, that I was so. I
forgave him the causeless blows and injuries he had inflicted on me
in childhood and youth, and was proud of the favor he now showed me,
and of the character and reputation I had earned by strenuous and
persevering efforts.