My Bondage and My Freedom
The dinner of the slaves consisted of a huge piece of ash cake, and a
small piece of pork, or two salt herrings. Not having ovens, nor any
suitable cooking utensils, the slaves mixed their meal with a little
water, to such thickness that a spoon would stand erect in it; and,
after the wood had burned away to coals and ashes, they would place the
dough between oak leaves and lay it carefully in the ashes, completely
covering it; hence, the bread is called ash cake. The surface of this
peculiar bread is covered with ashes, to the depth of a sixteenth part
of an inch, and the ashes, certainly, do not make it very grateful to
the teeth, nor render it very palatable. The bran, or coarse part of
the meal, is baked with the fine, and bright scales run through the
bread. This bread, with its ashes and bran, would disgust and choke a
northern man, but it is quite liked by the slaves. They eat it with
avidity, and are more concerned about the quantity than about the
quality. They are far too scantily provided for, and are worked too
steadily, to be much concerned for the quality of their food. The few
minutes allowed them at dinner time, after partaking of their coarse
repast, are variously spent. Some lie down on the “turning row,” and go
to sleep; others draw together, and talk; and others are at work with
needle and thread, mending their tattered garments. Sometimes you may
hear a wild, hoarse laugh arise from a circle, and often a song. Soon,
however, the overseer comes dashing through the field. _“Tumble up!
Tumble up_, and to _work, work,”_ is the cry; and, now, from twelve
o’clock (mid-day) till dark, the human cattle are in motion, wielding
their clumsy hoes; hurried on by no hope of reward, no sense of
gratitude, no love of children, no prospect of bettering their
condition; nothing, save the dread and terror of the slave-driver’s
lash. So goes one day, and so comes and goes another.
But, let us now leave the rough usage of the field, where vulgar
coarseness and brutal cruelty spread themselves and flourish, rank as
weeds in the tropics; where a vile wretch, in the shape of a man,
rides, walks, or struts about, dealing blows, and leaving gashes on
broken-spirited men and helpless women, for thirty dollars per month—a
business so horrible, hardening and disgraceful, that, rather, than
engage in it, a decent man would blow his own brains out—and let the
reader view with me the equally wicked, but less repulsive aspects of
slave life; where pride and pomp roll luxuriously at ease; where the
toil of a thousand men supports a single family in easy idleness and
sin. This is the great house; it is the home of the LLOYDS! Some idea
of its splendor has already been given—and, it is here that we shall
find that height of luxury which is the opposite of that depth of
poverty and physical wretchedness that we have just now been
contemplating. But, there is this difference in the two extremes; viz:
that in the case of the slave, the miseries and hardships of his lot
are imposed by others, and, in the master’s case, they are imposed by
himself. The slave is a subject, subjected by others; the slaveholder
is a subject, but he is the author of his own subjection. There is more
truth in the saying, that slavery is a greater evil to the master than
to the slave, than many, who utter it, suppose. The self-executing laws
of eternal justice follow close on the heels of the evil-doer here, as
well as elsewhere; making escape from all its penalties impossible.
But, let others philosophize; it is my province here to relate and
describe; only allowing myself a word or two, occasionally, to assist
the reader in the proper understanding of the facts narrated.
CHAPTER VII. _Life in the Great House_
COMFORTS AND LUXURIES—ELABORATE EXPENDITURE—HOUSE SERVANTS—MEN SERVANTS
AND MAID SERVANTS—APPEARANCES—SLAVE ARISTOCRACY—STABLE AND CARRIAGE
HOUSE—BOUNDLESS HOSPITALITY—FRAGRANCE OF RICH DISHES—THE DECEPTIVE
CHARACTER OF SLAVERY—SLAVES SEEM HAPPY—SLAVES AND SLAVEHOLDERS ALIKE
WRETCHED—FRETFUL DISCONTENT OF SLAVEHOLDERS—FAULT-FINDING—OLD
BARNEY—HIS PROFESSION—WHIPPING—HUMILIATING SPECTACLE—CASE
EXCEPTIONAL—WILLIAM WILKS—SUPPOSED SON OF COL. LLOYD—CURIOUS
INCIDENT—SLAVES PREFER RICH MASTERS TO POOR ONES.
The close-fisted stinginess that fed the poor slave on coarse corn-meal
and tainted meat; that clothed him in crashy tow-linen, and hurried him
to toil through the field, in all weathers, with wind and rain beating
through his tattered garments; that scarcely gave even the young
slave-mother time to nurse her hungry infant in the fence corner;
wholly vanishes on approaching the sacred precincts of the great house,
the home of the Lloyds. There the scriptural phrase finds an exact
illustration; the highly favored inmates of this mansion are literally
arrayed “in purple and fine linen,” and fare sumptuously every day! The
table groans under the heavy and blood-bought luxuries gathered with
painstaking care, at home and abroad. Fields, forests, rivers and seas,
are made tributary here. Immense wealth, and its lavish expenditure,
fill the great house with all that can please the eye, or tempt the
taste. Here, appetite, not food, is the great _desideratum_. Fish,
flesh and fowl, are here in profusion. Chickens, of all breeds; ducks,
of all kinds, wild and tame, the common, and the huge Muscovite; Guinea
fowls, turkeys, geese, and pea fowls, are in their several pens, fat
and fatting for the destined vortex. The graceful swan, the mongrels,
the black-necked wild goose; partridges, quails, pheasants and pigeons;
choice water fowl, with all their strange varieties, are caught in this
huge family net. Beef, veal, mutton and venison, of the most select
kinds and quality, roll bounteously to this grand consumer. The teeming
riches of the Chesapeake bay, its rock, perch, drums, crocus, trout,
oysters, crabs, and terrapin, are drawn hither to adorn the glittering
table of the great house. The dairy, too, probably the finest on the
Eastern Shore of Maryland—supplied by cattle of the best English stock,
imported for the purpose, pours its rich donations of fragant cheese,
golden butter, and delicious cream, to heighten the attraction of the
gorgeous, unending round of feasting. Nor are the fruits of the earth
forgotten or neglected. The fertile garden, many acres in size,
constituting a separate establishment, distinct from the common
farm—with its scientific gardener, imported from Scotland (a Mr.
McDermott) with four men under his direction, was not behind, either in
the abundance or in the delicacy of its contributions to the same full
board. The tender asparagus, the succulent celery, and the delicate
cauliflower; egg plants, beets, lettuce, parsnips, peas, and French
beans, early and late; radishes, cantelopes, melons of all kinds; the
fruits and flowers of all climes and of all descriptions, from the
hardy apple of the north, to the lemon and orange of the south,
culminated at this point. Baltimore gathered figs, raisins, almonds and
juicy grapes from Spain. Wines and brandies from France; teas of
various flavor, from China; and rich, aromatic coffee from Java, all
conspired to swell the tide of high life, where pride and indolence
rolled and lounged in magnificence and satiety.
Behind the tall-backed and elaborately wrought chairs, stand the
servants, men and maidens—fifteen in number—discriminately selected,
not only with a view to their industry and faithfulness, but with
special regard to their personal appearance, their graceful agility and
captivating address. Some of these are armed with fans, and are fanning
reviving breezes toward the over-heated brows of the alabaster ladies;
others watch with eager eye, and with fawn-like step anticipate and
supply wants before they are sufficiently formed to be announced by
word or sign.
These servants constituted a sort of black aristocracy on Col. Lloyd’s
plantation. They resembled the field hands in nothing, except in color,
and in this they held the advantage of a velvet-like glossiness, rich
and beautiful. The hair, too, showed the same advantage. The delicate
colored maid rustled in the scarcely worn silk of her young mistress,
while the servant men were equally well attired from the over-flowing
wardrobe of their young masters; so that, in dress, as well as in form
and feature, in manner and speech, in tastes and habits, the distance
between these favored few, and the sorrow and hunger-smitten multitudes
of the quarter and the field, was immense; and this is seldom passed
over.
Let us now glance at the stables and the carriage house, and we shall
find the same evidences of pride and luxurious extravagance. Here are
three splendid coaches, soft within and lustrous without. Here, too,
are gigs, phaetons, barouches, sulkeys and sleighs. Here are saddles
and harnesses—beautifully wrought and silver mounted—kept with every
care. In the stable you will find, kept only for pleasure, full
thirty-five horses, of the most approved blood for speed and beauty.
There are two men here constantly employed in taking care of these
horses. One of these men must be always in the stable, to answer every
call from the great house. Over the way from the stable, is a house
built expressly for the hounds—a pack of twenty-five or thirty—whose
fare would have made glad the heart of a dozen slaves. Horses and
hounds are not the only consumers of the slave’s toil. There was
practiced, at the Lloyd’s, a hospitality which would have astonished
and charmed any health-seeking northern divine or merchant, who might
have chanced to share it. Viewed from his own table, and _not_ from the
field, the colonel was a model of generous hospitality. His house was,
literally, a hotel, for weeks during the summer months. At these times,
especially, the air was freighted with the rich fumes of baking,
boiling, roasting and broiling. The odors I shared with the winds; but
the meats were under a more stringent monopoly except that,
occasionally, I got a cake from Mas’ Daniel. In Mas’ Daniel I had a
friend at court, from whom I learned many things which my eager
curiosity was excited to know. I always knew when company was expected,
and who they were, although I was an outsider, being the property, not
of Col. Lloyd, but of a servant of the wealthy colonel. On these
occasions, all that pride, taste and money could do, to dazzle and
charm, was done.
Who could say that the servants of Col. Lloyd were not well clad and
cared for, after witnessing one of his magnificent entertainments? Who
could say that they did not seem to glory in being the slaves of such a
master? Who, but a fanatic, could get up any sympathy for persons whose
every movement was agile, easy and graceful, and who evinced a
consciousness of high superiority? And who would ever venture to
suspect that Col. Lloyd was subject to the troubles of ordinary
mortals? Master and slave seem alike in their glory here? Can it all be
seeming? Alas! it may only be a sham at last! This immense wealth; this
gilded splendor; this profusion of luxury; this exemption from toil;
this life of ease; this sea of plenty; aye, what of it all? Are the
pearly gates of happiness and sweet content flung open to such suitors?
_far from it!_ The poor slave, on his hard, pine plank, but scantily
covered with his thin blanket, sleeps more soundly than the feverish
voluptuary who reclines upon his feather bed and downy pillow. Food, to
the indolent lounger, is poison, not sustenance. Lurking beneath all
their dishes, are invisible spirits of evil, ready to feed the
self-deluded gormandizers which aches, pains, fierce temper,
uncontrolled passions, dyspepsia, rheumatism, lumbago and gout; and of
these the Lloyds got their full share. To the pampered love of ease,