The History of Mary Prince, a West Indian Slave
me naked--to hang me up by the wrists and lay my flesh open with the
cow-skin, was an ordinary punishment for even a slight offence. My
mistress often robbed me too of the hours that belong to sleep. She used
to sit up very late, frequently even until morning; and I had then to
stand at a bench and wash during the greater part of the night, or pick
wool and cotton; and often I have dropped down overcome by sleep and
fatigue, till roused from a state of stupor by the whip, and forced to
start up to my tasks.
Poor Hetty, my fellow slave, was very kind to me, and I used to call her
my Aunt; but she led a most miserable life, and her death was hastened (at
least the slaves all believed and said so,) by the dreadful chastisement
she received from my master during her pregnancy. It happened as follows.
One of the cows had dragged the rope away from the stake to which Hetty
had fastened it, and got loose. My master flew into a terrible passion,
and ordered the poor creature to be stripped quite naked, notwithstanding
her pregnancy, and to be tied up to a tree in the yard. He then flogged
her as hard as he could lick, both with the whip and cow-skin, till she
was all over streaming with blood. He rested, and then beat her again and
again. Her shrieks were terrible. The consequence was that poor Hetty was
brought to bed before her time, and was delivered after severe labour of a
dead child. She appeared to recover after her confinement, so far that she
was repeatedly flogged by both master and mistress afterwards; but her
former strength never returned to her. Ere long her body and limbs swelled
to a great size; and she lay on a mat in the kitchen, till the water burst
out of her body and she died. All the slaves said that death was a good
thing for poor Hetty; but I cried very much for her death. The manner of
it filled me with horror. I could not bear to think about it; yet it was
always present to my mind for many a day.
After Hetty died all her labours fell upon me, in addition to my own. I
had now to milk eleven cows every morning before sunrise, sitting among
the damp weeds; to take care of the cattle as well as the children; and to
do the work of the house. There was no end to my toils--no end to my
blows. I lay down at night and rose up in the morning in fear and sorrow;
and often wished that like poor Hetty I could escape from this cruel
bondage and be at rest in the grave. But the hand of that God whom then I
knew not, was stretched over me; and I was mercifully preserved for better
things. It was then, however, my heavy lot to weep, weep, weep, and that
for years; to pass from one misery to another, and from one cruel master
to a worse. But I must go on with the thread of my story.
One day a heavy squall of wind and rain came on suddenly, and my mistress
sent me round the corner of the house to empty a large earthen jar. The
jar was already cracked with an old deep crack that divided it in the
middle, and in turning it upside down to empty it, it parted in my hand. I
could not help the accident, but I was dreadfully frightened, looking
forward to a severe punishment. I ran crying to my mistress, "O mistress,
the jar has come in two." "You have broken it, have you?" she replied;
"come directly here to me." I came trembling; she stripped and flogged me
long and severely with the cow-skin; as long as she had strength to use
the lash, for she did not give over till she was quite tired.--When my
master came home at night, she told him of my fault; and oh, frightful!
how he fell a swearing. After abusing me with every ill name he could
think of, (too, too bad to speak in England,) and giving me several heavy
blows with his hand, he said, "I shall come home to-morrow morning at
twelve, on purpose to give you a round hundred." He kept his word--Oh sad
for me! I cannot easily forget it. He tied me up upon a ladder, and gave
me a hundred lashes with his own hand, and master Benjy stood by to count
them for him. When he had licked me for some time he sat down to take
breath; then after resting, he beat me again and again, until he was quite
wearied, and so hot (for the weather was very sultry), that he sank back
in his chair, almost like to faint. While my mistress went to bring him
drink, there was a dreadful earthquake. Part of the roof fell down, and
every thing in the house went--clatter, clatter, clatter. Oh I thought the
end of all things near at hand; and I was so sore with the flogging, that
I scarcely cared whether I lived or died. The earth was groaning and
shaking; every thing tumbling about; and my mistress and the slaves were
shrieking and crying out, "The earthquake! the earthquake!" It was an
awful day for us all.
During the confusion I crawled away on my hands and knees, and laid myself
down under the steps of the piazza, in front of the house. I was in a
dreadful state--my body all blood and bruises, and I could not help
moaning piteously. The other slaves, when they saw me, shook their heads
and said, "Poor child! poor child!"--I lay there till the morning,
careless of what might happen, for life was very weak in me, and I wished
more than ever to die. But when we are very young, death always seems a
great way off, and it would not come that night to me. The next morning I
was forced by my master to rise and go about my usual work, though my body
and limbs were so stiff and sore, that I could not move without the
greatest pain.--Nevertheless, even after all this severe punishment, I
never heard the last of that jar; my mistress was always throwing it in my
face.
Some little time after this, one of the cows got loose from the stake, and
eat one of the sweet-potatoe slips. I was milking when my master found it
out. He came to me, and without any more ado, stooped down, and taking off
his heavy boot, he struck me such a severe blow in the small of my back,
that I shrieked with agony, and thought I was killed; and I feel a
weakness in that part to this day. The cow was frightened at his
violence, and kicked down the pail and spilt the milk all about. My master
knew that this accident was his own fault, but he was so enraged that he
seemed glad of an excuse to go on with his ill usage. I cannot remember
how many licks he gave me then, but he beat me till I was unable to stand,
and till he himself was weary.
After this I ran away and went to my mother, who was living with Mr.
Richard Darrel. My poor mother was both grieved and glad to see me;
grieved because I had been so ill used, and glad because she had not seen
me for a long, long while. She dared not receive me into the house, but
she hid me up in a hole in the rocks near, and brought me food at night,
after every body was asleep. My father, who lived at Crow-Lane, over the
salt-water channel, at last heard of my being hid up in the cavern, and he
came and took me back to my master. Oh I was loth, loth to go back; but as
there was no remedy, I was obliged to submit.
When we got home, my poor father said to Capt. I----, "Sir, I am sorry
that my child should be forced to run away from her owner; but the
treatment she has received is enough to break her heart. The sight of her
wounds has nearly broke mine.--I entreat you, for the love of God, to
forgive her for running away, and that you will be a kind master to her in
future." Capt. I---- said I was used as well as I deserved, and that I
ought to be punished for running away. I then took courage and said that I
could stand the floggings no longer; that I was weary of my life, and
therefore I had run away to my mother; but mothers could only weep and
mourn over their children, they could not save them from cruel
masters--from the whip, the rope, and the cow-skin. He told me to hold my
tongue and go about my work, or he would find a way to settle me. He did
not, however, flog me that day.
For five years after this I remained in his house, and almost daily
received the same harsh treatment. At length he put me on board a sloop,
and to my great joy sent me away to Turk's Island. I was not permitted to
see my mother or father, or poor sisters and brothers, to say good bye,
though going away to a strange land, and might never see them again. Oh
the Buckra people who keep slaves think that black people are like cattle,
without natural affection. But my heart tells me it is far otherwise.
We were nearly four weeks on the voyage, which was unusually long.
Sometimes we had a light breeze, sometimes a great calm, and the ship made
no way; so that our provisions and water ran very low, and we were put
upon short allowance. I should almost have been starved had it not been
for the kindness of a black man called Anthony, and his wife, who had
brought their own victuals, and shared them with me.
When we went ashore at the Grand Quay, the captain sent me to the house of
my new master, Mr. D----, to whom Captain I----had sold me. Grand Quay is
a small town upon a sandbank; the houses low and built of wood. Such was
my new master's. The first person I saw, on my arrival, was Mr. D----, a
stout sulky looking man, who carried me through the hall to show me to his
wife and children. Next day I was put up by the vendue master to know how
much I was worth, and I was valued at one hundred pounds currency.
My new master was one of the owners or holders of the salt ponds, and he
received a certain sum for every slave that worked upon his premises,
whether they were young or old. This sum was allowed him out of the
profits arising from the salt works. I was immediately sent to work in the
salt water with the rest of the slaves. This work was perfectly new to me.
I was given a half barrel and a shovel, and had to stand up to my knees in
the water, from four o'clock in the morning till nine, when we were given
some Indian corn boiled in water, which we were obliged to swallow as fast
as we could for fear the rain should come on and melt the salt. We were
then called again to our tasks, and worked through the heat of the day;
the sun flaming upon our heads like fire, and raising salt blisters in
those parts which were not completely covered. Our feet and legs, from
standing in the salt water for so many hours, soon became full of dreadful
boils, which eat down in some cases to the very bone, afflicting the
sufferers with great torment. We came home at twelve; ate our corn soup,
called _blawly_, as fast as we could, and went back to our employment till
dark at night. We then shovelled up the salt in large heaps, and went down
to the sea, where we washed the pickle from our limbs, and cleaned the
barrows and shovels from the salt. When we returned to the house, our
master gave us each our allowance of raw Indian corn, which we pounded in
a mortar and boiled in water for our suppers.
We slept in a long shed, divided into narrow slips, like the stalls used
for cattle. Boards fixed upon stakes driven into the ground, without mat
or covering, were our only beds. On Sundays, after we had washed the salt
bags, and done other work required of us, we went into the bush and cut
the long soft grass, of which we made trusses for our legs and feet to
rest upon, for they were so full of the salt boils that we could get no
rest lying upon the bare boards.
Though we worked from morning till night, there was no satisfying Mr.
D----. I hoped, when I left Capt. I----, that I should have been better
off, but I found it was but going from one butcher to another. There was
this difference between them: my former master used to beat me while
raging and foaming with passion; Mr. D---- was usually quite calm. He
would stand by and give orders for a slave to be cruelly whipped, and
assist in the punishment, without moving a muscle of his face; walking
about and taking snuff with the greatest composure. Nothing could touch