Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, Written by Herself
My uncle procured a wagon and carried William and the children back to
town. Great was the joy in my grandmother’s house! The curtains were
closed, and the candles lighted. The happy grandmother cuddled the
little ones to her bosom. They hugged her, and kissed her, and clapped
their hands, and shouted. She knelt down and poured forth one of her
heartfelt prayers of thanksgiving to God. The father was present for
a while; and though such a “parental relation” as existed between him
and my children takes slight hold of the hearts or consciences of
slaveholders, it must be that he experienced some moments of pure joy
in witnessing the happiness he had imparted.
I had no share in the rejoicings of that evening. The events of the
day had not come to my knowledge. And now I will tell you something
that happened to me; though you will, perhaps, think it illustrates the
superstition of slaves. I sat in my usual place on the floor near the
window, where I could hear much that was said in the street without
being seen. The family had retired for the night, and all was still.
I sat there thinking of my children, when I heard a low strain of
music. A band of serenaders were under the window, playing “Home, sweet
home.” I listened till the sounds did not seem like music, but like
the moaning of children. It seemed as if my heart would burst. I rose
from my sitting posture, and knelt. A streak of moonlight was on the
floor before me, and in the midst of it appeared the forms of my two
children. They vanished; but I had seen them distinctly. Some will call
it a dream, others a vision. I know not how to account for it, but it
made a strong impression on my mind, and I felt certain something had
happened to my little ones.
I had not seen Betty since morning. Now I heard her softly turning
the key. As soon as she entered, I clung to her, and begged her to
let me know whether my children were dead, or whether they were sold;
for I had seen their spirits in my room, and I was sure something had
happened to them. “Lor, chile,” said she, putting her arms round me,
“you’s got de high-sterics. I’ll sleep wid you to-night, ’cause you’ll
make a noise, and ruin missis. Something has stirred you up mightily.
When you is done cryin, I’ll talk wid you. De chillern is well, and
mighty happy. I seed ’em myself. Does dat satisfy you? Dar, chile, be
still! Somebody vill hear you.” I tried to obey her. She lay down, and
was soon sound asleep; but no sleep would come to my eyelids.
At dawn, Betty was up and off to the kitchen. The hours passed on, and
the vision of the night kept constantly recurring to my thoughts. After
a while I heard the voices of two women in the entry. In one of them I
recognized the housemaid. The other said to her, “Did you know Linda
Brent’s children was sold to the speculator yesterday. They say ole
massa Flint was mighty glad to see ’em drove out of town; but they say
they’ve come back agin. I ’spect it’s all their daddy’s doings. They
say he’s bought William too. Lor! how it will take hold of ole massa
Flint! I’m going roun’ to aunt Marthy’s to see ’bout it.”
I bit my lips till the blood came to keep from crying out. Were my
children with their grandmother, or had the speculator carried them
off? The suspense was dreadful. Would Betty _never_ come, and tell me
the truth about it? At last she came, and I eagerly repeated what I
had overheard. Her face was one broad, bright smile. “Lor, you foolish
ting!” said she. “I’se gwine to tell you all ’bout it. De gals is
eating thar breakfast, and missus tole me to let her tell you; but,
poor creeter! t’aint right to keep you waitin’, and I’se gwine to tell
you. Brudder, chillern, all is bought by de daddy! I’se laugh more dan
nuff, tinking ’bout ole massa Flint. Lor, how he _vill_ swar! He’s got
ketched dis time, any how; but I must be getting out o’ dis, or dem
gals vill come and ketch _me_.”
Betty went off laughing; and I said to myself, “Can it be true that my
children are free? I have not suffered for them in vain. Thank God!”
Great surprise was expressed when it was known that my children had
returned to their grandmother’s. The news spread through the town, and
many a kind word was bestowed on the little ones.
Dr. Flint went to my grandmother’s to ascertain who was the owner of
my children, and she informed him. “I expected as much,” said he. “I
am glad to hear it. I have had news from Linda lately, and I shall
soon have her. You need never expect to see _her_ free. She shall be
my slave as long as I live, and when I am dead she shall be the slave
of my children. If I ever find out that you or Phillip had anything to
do with her running off I’ll kill him. And if I meet William in the
street, and he presumes to look at me, I’ll flog him within an inch of
his life. Keep those brats out of my sight!”
As he turned to leave, my grandmother said something to remind him of
his own doings. He looked back upon her, as if he would have been glad
to strike her to the ground.
I had my season of joy and thanksgiving. It was the first time since
my childhood that I had experienced any real happiness. I heard of the
old doctor’s threats, but they no longer had the same power to trouble
me. The darkest cloud that hung over my life had rolled away. Whatever
slavery might do to me, it could not shackle my children. If I fell a
sacrifice, my little ones were saved. It was well for me that my simple
heart believed all that had been promised for their welfare. It is
always better to trust than to doubt.
XX. New Perils.
The doctor, more exasperated than ever, again tried to revenge himself
on my relatives. He arrested uncle Phillip on the charge of having
aided my flight. He was carried before a court, and swore truly that
he knew nothing of my intention to escape, and that he had not seen me
since I left my master’s plantation. The doctor then demanded that he
should give bail for five hundred dollars that he would have nothing to
do with me. Several gentlemen offered to be security for him; but Mr.
Sands told him he had better go back to jail, and he would see that he
came out without giving bail.
The news of his arrest was carried to my grandmother, who conveyed it
to Betty. In the kindness of her heart, she again stowed me away under
the floor; and as she walked back and forth, in the performance of
her culinary duties, she talked apparently to herself, but with the
intention that I should hear what was going on. I hoped that my uncle’s
imprisonment would last but few days; still I was anxious. I thought it
likely Dr. Flint would do his utmost to taunt and insult him, and I was
afraid my uncle might lose control of himself, and retort in some way
that would be construed into a punishable offence; and I was well aware
that in court his word would not be taken against any white man’s. The
search for me was renewed. Something had excited suspicions that I
was in the vicinity. They searched the house I was in. I heard their
steps and their voices. At night, when all were asleep, Betty came to
release me from my place of confinement. The fright I had undergone,
the constrained posture, and the dampness of the ground, made me ill
for several days. My uncle was soon after taken out of prison; but
the movements of all my relatives, and of all our friends, were very
closely watched.
We all saw that I could not remain where I was much longer. I had
already staid longer than was intended, and I knew my presence must
be a source of perpetual anxiety to my kind benefactress. During this
time, my friends had laid many plans for my escape, but the extreme
vigilance of my persecutors made it impossible to carry them into
effect.
One morning I was much startled by hearing somebody trying to get
into my room. Several keys were tried, but none fitted. I instantly
conjectured it was one of the housemaids; and I concluded she must
either have heard some noise in the room, or have noticed the entrance
of Betty. When my friend came, at her usual time, I told her what had
happened. “I knows who it was,” said she. “’Pend upon it, ’twas dat
Jenny. Dat nigger allers got de debble in her.” I suggested that she
might have seen or heard something that excited her curiosity.
“Tut! tut! chile!” exclaimed Betty, “she ain’t seen notin’, nor hearn
notin’. She only ’spects someting. Dat’s all. She wants to fine out who
hab cut and make my gownd. But she won’t nebber know. Dat’s sartin.
I’ll git missis to fix her.”
I reflected a moment, and said, “Betty, I must leave here to-night.”
“Do as you tink best, poor chile,” she replied. “I’se mighty ’fraid dat
’ere nigger vill pop on you some time.”
She reported the incident to her mistress, and received orders to keep
Jenny busy in the kitchen till she could see my uncle Phillip. He told
her he would send a friend for me that very evening. She told him she
hoped I was going to the north, for it was very dangerous for me to
remain any where in the vicinity. Alas, it was not an easy thing, for
one in my situation, to go to the north. In order to leave the coast
quite clear for me, she went into the country to spend the day with her
brother, and took Jenny with her. She was afraid to come and bid me
good by, but she left a kind message with Betty. I heard her carriage
roll from the door, and I never again saw her who had so generously
befriended the poor, trembling fugitive! Though she was a slaveholder,
to this day my heart blesses her!
I had not the slightest idea where I was going. Betty brought me a suit
of sailor’s clothes,—jacket, trowsers, and tarpaulin hat. She gave me
a small bundle, saying I might need it where I was going. In cheery
tones, she exclaimed, “I’se _so_ glad you is gwine to free parts! Don’t
forget ole Betty. P’raps I’ll come ’long by and by.”
I tried to tell her how grateful I felt for all her kindness, but she
interrupted me. “I don’t want no tanks, honey. I’se glad I could help
you, and I hope de good Lord vill open de path for you. I’se gwine
wid you to de lower gate. Put your hands in your pockets, and walk
ricketty, like de sailors.”
I performed to her satisfaction. At the gate I found Peter, a young
colored man, waiting for me. I had known him for years. He had been
an apprentice to my father, and had always borne a good character. I
was not afraid to trust to him. Betty bade me a hurried good by, and
we walked off. “Take courage, Linda,” said my friend Peter. “I’ve got
a dagger, and no man shall take you from me, unless he passes over my
dead body.”
It was a long time since I had taken a walk out of doors, and the fresh
air revived me. It was also pleasant to hear a human voice speaking
to me above a whisper. I passed several people whom I knew, but they
did not recognize me in my disguise. I prayed internally that, for
Peter’s sake, as well as my own, nothing might occur to bring out his
dagger. We walked on till we came to the wharf. My aunt Nancy’s husband
was a seafaring man, and it had been deemed necessary to let him into
our secret. He took me into his boat, rowed out to a vessel not far
distant, and hoisted me on board. We three were the only occupants of
the vessel. I now ventured to ask what they proposed to do with me.
They said I was to remain on board till near dawn, and then they would
hide me in Snaky Swamp, till my uncle Phillip had prepared a place of
concealment for me. If the vessel had been bound north, it would have
been of no avail to me, for it would certainly have been searched.
About four o’clock, we were again seated in the boat, and rowed three
miles to the swamp. My fear of snakes had been increased by the
venomous bite I had received, and I dreaded to enter this hiding-place.