Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, Written by Herself
involve the suspicion of my having been harbored there, and might bring
trouble, if not ruin, on several people.
I like a straightforward course, and am always reluctant to resort to
subterfuges. So far as my ways have been crooked, I charge them all
upon slavery. It was that system of violence and wrong which now left
me no alternative but to enact a falsehood. I began my note by stating
that I had recently arrived from Canada, and was very desirous to have
my daughter come to see me. She came and brought a message from Mrs.
Hobbs, inviting me to her house, and assuring me that I need not have
any fears. The conversation I had with my child did not leave my mind
at ease. When I asked if she was well treated, she answered yes; but
there was no heartiness in the tone, and it seemed to me that she said
it from an unwillingness to have me troubled on her account. Before
she left me, she asked very earnestly, “Mother, when will you take me
to live with you?” It made me sad to think that I could not give her a
home till I went to work and earned the means; and that might take me a
long time. When she was placed with Mrs. Hobbs, the agreement was that
she should be sent to school. She had been there two years, and was now
nine years old, and she scarcely knew her letters. There was no excuse
for this, for there were good public schools in Brooklyn, to which she
could have been sent without expense.
She staid with me till dark, and I went home with her. I was received
in a friendly manner by the family, and all agreed in saying that Ellen
was a useful, good girl. Mrs. Hobbs looked me coolly in the face, and
said, “I suppose you know that my cousin, Mr. Sands, has _given_ her
to my eldest daughter. She will make a nice waiting-maid for her when
she grows up.” I did not answer a word. How _could_ she, who knew by
experience the strength of a mother’s love, and who was perfectly aware
of the relation Mr. Sands bore to my children,—how _could_ she look me
in the face, while she thrust such a dagger into my heart?
I was no longer surprised that they had kept her in such a state of
ignorance. Mr. Hobbs had formerly been wealthy, but he had failed,
and afterwards obtained a subordinate situation in the Custom House.
Perhaps they expected to return to the south some day; and Ellen’s
knowledge was quite sufficient for a slave’s condition. I was impatient
to go to work and earn money, that I might change the uncertain
position of my children. Mr. Sands had not kept his promise to
emancipate them. I had also been deceived about Ellen. What security
had I with regard to Benjamin? I felt that I had none.
I returned to my friend’s house in an uneasy state of mind. In order
to protect my children, it was necessary that I should own myself. I
called myself free, and sometimes felt so; but I knew I was insecure. I
sat down that night and wrote a civil letter to Dr. Flint, asking him
to state the lowest terms on which he would sell me; and as I belonged
by law to his daughter, I wrote to her also, making a similar request.
Since my arrival at the north I had not been unmindful of my dear
brother William. I had made diligent inquiries for him, and having
heard of him in Boston, I went thither. When I arrived there, I found
he had gone to New Bedford. I wrote to that place, and was informed he
had gone on a whaling voyage, and would not return for some months.
I went back to New York to get employment near Ellen. I received an
answer from Dr. Flint, which gave me no encouragement. He advised me to
return and submit myself to my rightful owners, and then any request I
might make would be granted. I lent this letter to a friend, who lost
it; otherwise I would present a copy to my readers.
XXXIII. A Home Found.
My greatest anxiety now was to obtain employment. My health was greatly
improved, though my limbs continued to trouble me with swelling
whenever I walked much. The greatest difficulty in my way was, that
those who employed strangers required a recommendation; and in my
peculiar position, I could, of course, obtain no certificates from the
families I had so faithfully served.
One day an acquaintance told me of a lady who wanted a nurse for her
babe, and I immediately applied for the situation. The lady told me
she preferred to have one who had been a mother, and accustomed to
the care of infants. I told her I had nursed two babes of my own. She
asked me many questions, but, to my great relief, did not require a
recommendation from my former employers. She told me she was an English
woman, and that was a pleasant circumstance to me, because I had heard
they had less prejudice against color than Americans entertained. It
was agreed that we should try each other for a week. The trial proved
satisfactory to both parties, and I was engaged for a month.
The heavenly Father had been most merciful to me in leading me to this
place. Mrs. Bruce was a kind and gentle lady, and proved a true and
sympathizing friend. Before the stipulated month expired, the necessity
of passing up and down stairs frequently, caused my limbs to swell so
painfully, that I became unable to perform my duties. Many ladies would
have thoughtlessly discharged me; but Mrs. Bruce made arrangements to
save me steps, and employed a physician to attend upon me. I had not
yet told her that I was a fugitive slave. She noticed that I was often
sad, and kindly inquired the cause. I spoke of being separated from my
children, and from relatives who were dear to me; but I did not mention
the constant feeling of insecurity which oppressed my spirits. I longed
for some one to confide in; but I had been so deceived by white people,
that I had lost all confidence in them. If they spoke kind words to me,
I thought it was for some selfish purpose. I had entered this family
with the distrustful feelings I had brought with me out of slavery;
but ere six months had passed, I found that the gentle deportment of
Mrs. Bruce and the smiles of her lovely babe were thawing my chilled
heart. My narrow mind also began to expand under the influences of her
intelligent conversation, and the opportunities for reading, which were
gladly allowed me whenever I had leisure from my duties. I gradually
became more energetic and more cheerful.
The old feeling of insecurity, especially with regard to my children,
often threw its dark shadow across my sunshine. Mrs. Bruce offered me
a home for Ellen; but pleasant as it would have been, I did not dare
to accept it, for fear of offending the Hobbs family. Their knowledge
of my precarious situation placed me in their power; and I felt that
it was important for me to keep on the right side of them, till, by
dint of labor and economy, I could make a home for my children. I
was far from feeling satisfied with Ellen’s situation. She was not
well cared for. She sometimes came to New York to visit me; but she
generally brought a request from Mrs. Hobbs that I would buy her a
pair of shoes, or some article of clothing. This was accompanied by a
promise of payment when Mr. Hobbs’s salary at the Custom House became
due; but some how or other the pay-day never came. Thus many dollars
of my earnings were expended to keep my child comfortably clothed.
That, however, was a slight trouble, compared with the fear that their
pecuniary embarrassments might induce them to sell my precious young
daughter. I knew they were in constant communication with Southerners,
and had frequent opportunities to do it. I have stated that when Dr.
Flint put Ellen in jail, at two years old, she had an inflammation
of the eyes, occasioned by measles. This disease still troubled her;
and kind Mrs. Bruce proposed that she should come to New York for a
while, to be under the care of Dr. Elliott, a well known oculist. It
did not occur to me that there was any thing improper in a mother’s
making such a request; but Mrs. Hobbs was very angry, and refused to
let her go. Situated as I was, it was not politic to insist upon it. I
made no complaint, but I longed to be entirely free to act a mother’s
part towards my children. The next time I went over to Brooklyn, Mrs.
Hobbs, as if to apologize for her anger, told me she had employed her
own physician to attend to Ellen’s eyes, and that she had refused my
request because she did not consider it safe to trust her in New York.
I accepted the explanation in silence; but she had told me that my
child _belonged_ to her daughter, and I suspected that her real motive
was a fear of my conveying her property away from her. Perhaps I did
her injustice; but my knowledge of Southerners made it difficult for me
to feel otherwise.
Sweet and bitter were mixed in the cup of my life, and I was thankful
that it had ceased to be entirely bitter. I loved Mrs. Bruce’s babe.
When it laughed and crowed in my face, and twined its little tender
arms confidingly about my neck, it made me think of the time when
Benny and Ellen were babies, and my wounded heart was soothed. One
bright morning, as I stood at the window, tossing baby in my arms,
my attention was attracted by a young man in sailor’s dress, who was
closely observing every house as he passed. I looked at him earnestly.
Could it be my brother William? It _must_ be he—and yet, how changed!
I placed the baby safely, flew down stairs, opened the front door,
beckoned to the sailor, and in less than a minute I was clasped in my
brother’s arms. How much we had to tell each other! How we laughed, and
how we cried, over each other’s adventures! I took him to Brooklyn, and
again saw him with Ellen, the dear child whom he had loved and tended
so carefully, while I was shut up in my miserable den. He staid in New
York a week. His old feelings of affection for me and Ellen were as
lively as ever. There are no bonds so strong as those which are formed
by suffering together.
XXXIV. The Old Enemy Again.
My young mistress, Miss Emily Flint, did not return any answer to my
letter requesting her to consent to my being sold. But after a while, I
received a reply, which purported to be written by her younger brother.
In order rightly to enjoy the contents of this letter, the reader
must bear in mind that the Flint family supposed I had been at the
north many years. They had no idea that I knew of the doctor’s three
excursions to New York in search of me; that I had heard his voice,
when he came to borrow five hundred dollars for that purpose; and that
I had seen him pass on his way to the steamboat. Neither were they
aware that all the particulars of aunt Nancy’s death and burial were
conveyed to me at the time they occurred. I have kept the letter, of
which I herewith subjoin a copy:—
“Your letter to sister was received a few days ago. I gather
from it that you are desirous of returning to your native place,
among your friends and relatives. We were all gratified with
the contents of your letter; and let me assure you that if any
members of the family have had any feeling of resentment towards
you, they feel it no longer. We all sympathize with you in your
unfortunate condition, and are ready to do all in our power to make
you contented and happy. It is difficult for you to return home
as a free person. If you were purchased by your grandmother, it
is doubtful whether you would be permitted to remain, although it
would be lawful for you to do so. If a servant should be allowed to
purchase herself, after absenting herself so long from her owners,
and return free, it would have an injurious effect. From your
letter, I think your situation must be hard and uncomfortable. Come
home. You have it in your power to be reinstated in our affections.
We would receive you with open arms and tears of joy. You need