Twelve Years a Slave
of the "Big Cane," is a haunted place. For more than a quarter of
a century, human voices had rarely, if ever, disturbed the silence
of the clearing. Rank and noxious weeds had overspread the once
cultivated field--serpents sunned themselves on the doorway of the
crumbling cabin. It was indeed a dreary picture of desolation.
Passing "Sutton's Field," we followed a new-cut road two miles
farther, which brought us to its termination. We had now reached
the wild lands of Mr. Eldret, where he contemplated clearing up
an extensive plantation. We went to work next morning with our
cane-knives, and cleared a sufficient space to allow the erection of
two cabins--one for Myers and Eldret, the other for Sam, myself, and
the slaves that were to join us. We were now in the midst of trees of
enormous growth, whose wide-spreading branches almost shut out the
light of the sun, while the space between the trunks was an impervious
mass of cane, with here and there an occasional palmetto.
The bay and the sycamore, the oak and the cypress, reach a growth
unparalleled, in those fertile lowlands bordering the Red River. From
every tree, moreover, hang long, large masses of moss, presenting to
the eye unaccustomed to them, a striking and singular appearance.
This moss, in large quantities, is sent north, and there used for
manufacturing purposes.
We cut down oaks, split them into rails, and with these erected
temporary cabins. We covered the roofs with the broad palmetto leaf,
an excellent substitute for shingles, as long as they last.
The greatest annoyance I met with here were small flies, gnats and
mosquitoes. They swarmed the air. They penetrated the porches of the
ear, the nose, the eyes, the mouth. They sucked themselves beneath the
skin. It was impossible to brush or beat them off. It seemed, indeed,
as if they would devour us--carry us away piecemeal, in their small
tormenting mouths.
A lonelier spot, or one more disagreeable, than the centre of the "Big
Cane Brake," it would be difficult to conceive; yet to me it was a
paradise, in comparison with any other place in the company of Master
Tibeats. I labored hard, and oft-times was weary and fatigued, yet I
could lie down at night in peace, and arise in the morning without
fear.
In the course of a fortnight, four black girls came down from Eldret's
plantation--Charlotte, Fanny, Cresia and Nelly. They were all large
and stout. Axes were put into their hands, and they were sent out
with Sam and myself to cut trees. They were excellent choppers, the
largest oak or sycamore standing but a brief season before their
heavy and well-directed blows. At piling logs, they were equal to any
man. There are lumberwomen as well as lumbermen in the forests of the
South. In fact, in the region of the Bayou Boeuf they perform their
share of all the labor required on the plantation. They plough, drag,
drive team, clear wild lands, work on the highway, and so forth. Some
planters, owning large cotton and sugar plantations, have none other
than the labor of slave women. Such a one is Jim Burns, who lives on
the north shore of the bayou, opposite the plantation of John Fogaman.
On our arrival in the brake, Eldret promised me, if I worked well, I
might go up to visit my friends at Ford's in four weeks. On Saturday
night of the fifth week, I reminded him of his promise, when he told
me I had done so well, that I might go. I had set my heart upon it,
and Eldret's announcement thrilled me with pleasure. I was to return
in time to commence the labors of the day on Tuesday morning.
While indulging the pleasant anticipation of so soon meeting my old
friends again, suddenly the hateful form of Tibeats appeared among us.
He inquired how Myers and Platt got along together, and was told, very
well, and that Platt was going up to Ford's plantation in the morning
on a visit.
"Poh, poh!" sneered Tibeats; "it isn't worth while--the nigger will
get unsteady. He can't go."
But Eldret insisted I had worked faithfully--that he had given me
his promise, and that, under the circumstances, I ought not to be
disappointed. They then, it being about dark, entered one cabin
and I the other. I could not give up the idea of going; it was a
sore disappointment. Before morning I resolved, if Eldret made no
objection, to leave at all hazards. At daylight I was at his door,
with my blanket rolled up into a bundle, and hanging on a stick over
my shoulder, waiting for a pass. Tibeats came out presently in one
of his disagreeable moods, washed his face, and going to a stump
near by, sat down upon it, apparently busily thinking with himself.
After standing there a long time, impelled by a sudden impulse of
impatience, I started off.
"Are you going without a pass?" he cried out to me.
"Yes, master, I thought I would," I answered.
"How do you think you'll get there?" demanded he.
"Don't know," was all the reply I made him.
"You'd be taken and sent to jail, where you ought to be, before you
got half-way there," he added, passing into the cabin as he said it.
He came out soon with the pass in his hand, and calling me a "d--d
nigger that deserved a hundred lashes," threw it on the ground. I
picked it up, and hurried away right speedily.
A slave caught off his master's plantation without a pass, may be
seized and whipped by any white man whom he meets. The one I now
received was dated, and read as follows:
"Platt has permission to go to Ford's plantation, on Bayou Boeuf, and
return by Tuesday morning.
JOHN M. TIBEATS."
This is the usual form. On the way, a great many demanded it, read it,
and passed on. Those having the air and appearance of gentlemen, whose
dress indicated the possession of wealth, frequently took no notice of
me whatever; but a shabby fellow, an unmistakable loafer, never failed
to hail me, and to scrutinize and examine me in the most thorough
manner. Catching runaways is sometimes a money-making business. If,
after advertising, no owner appears, they may be sold to the highest
bidder; and certain fees are allowed the finder for his services, at
all events, even if reclaimed. "A mean white," therefore,--a name
applied to the species loafer--considers it a god-send to meet an
unknown negro without a pass.
There are no inns along the highways in that portion of the State
where I sojourned. I was wholly destitute of money, neither did I
carry any provisions, on my journey from the Big Cane to Bayou Boeuf;
nevertheless, with his pass in his hand, a slave need never suffer
from hunger or from thirst. It is only necessary to present it to the
master or overseer of a plantation, and state his wants, when he will
be sent round to the kitchen and provided with food or shelter, as
the case may require. The traveler stops at any house and calls for
a meal with as much freedom as if it was a public tavern. It is the
general custom of the country. Whatever their faults may be, it is
certain the inhabitants along Red River, and around the bayous in the
interior of Louisiana are not wanting in hospitality.
I arrived at Ford's plantation towards the close of the afternoon,
passing the evening in Eliza's cabin, with Lawson, Rachel, and others
of my acquaintance. When we left Washington Eliza's form was round
and plump. She stood erect, and in her silks and jewels, presented
a picture of graceful strength and elegance. Now she was but a thin
shadow of her former self. Her face had become ghastly haggard, and
the once straight and active form was bowed down, as if bearing the
weight of a hundred years. Crouching on her cabin floor, and clad
in the coarse garments of a slave, old Elisha Berry would not have
recognized the mother of his child. I never saw her afterwards. Having
become useless in the cotton-field, she was bartered for a trifle, to
some man residing in the vicinity of Peter Compton's. Grief had gnawed
remorselessly at her heart, until her strength was gone; and for that,
her last master, it is said, lashed and abused her most unmercifully.
But he could not whip back the departed vigor of her youth, nor
straighten up that bended body to its full height, such as it was when
her children were around her, and the light of freedom was shining on
her path.
I learned the particulars relative to her departure from this world,
from some of Compton's slaves, who had come over Red River to the
bayou, to assist young Madam Tanner during the "busy season." She
became at length, they said, utterly helpless, for several weeks lying
on the ground floor in a dilapidated cabin, dependent upon the mercy
of her fellow-thralls for an occasional drop of water, and a morsel of
food. Her master did not "knock her on the head," as is sometimes done
to put a suffering animal out of misery, but left her unprovided for,
and unprotected, to linger through a life of pain and wretchedness to
its natural close. When the hands returned from the field one night
they found her dead! During the day, the Angel of the Lord, who moveth
invisibly over all the earth, gathering in his harvest of departing
souls, had silently entered the cabin of the dying woman, and taken
her from thence. She was _free_ at last!
Next day, rolling up my blanket, I started on my return to the Big
Cane. After traveling five miles, at a place called Huff Power, the
ever-present Tibeats met me in the road. He inquired why I was going
back so soon, and when informed I was anxious to return by the time I
was directed, he said I need go no farther than the next plantation,
as he had that day sold me to Edwin Epps. We walked down into the
yard, where we met the latter gentleman, who examined me, and asked
me the usual questions propounded by purchasers. Having been duly
delivered over, I was ordered to the quarters, and at the same time
directed to make a hoe and axe handle for myself.
I was now no longer the property of Tibeats--his dog, his brute,
dreading his wrath and cruelty day and night; and whoever or whatever
my new master might prove to be, I could not, certainly, regret the
change. So it was good news when the sale was announced, and with a
sigh of relief I sat down for the first time in my new abode.
Tibeats soon after disappeared from that section of the country.
Once afterwards, and only once, I caught a glimpse of him. It was
many miles from Bayou Boeuf. He was seated in the doorway of a low
groggery. I was passing, in a drove of slaves, through St. Mary's
parish.
CHAPTER XII.
PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF EPPS--EPPS, DRUNK AND SOBER--A GLIMPSE
OF HIS HISTORY--COTTON GROWING--THE MODE OF PLOUGHING AND
PREPARING GROUND--OF PLANTING--OF HOEING, OF PICKING, OF
TREATING RAW HANDS--THE DIFFERENCE IN COTTON PICKERS--PATSEY
A REMARKABLE ONE--TASKED ACCORDING TO ABILITY--BEAUTY OF A
COTTON FIELD--THE SLAVE'S LABORS--FEAR ON APPROACHING THE
GIN-HOUSE--WEIGHING--"CHORES"--CABIN LIFE--THE CORN MILL--THE USES
OF THE GOURD--FEAR OF OVERSLEEPING--FEAR CONTINUALLY--MODE OF
CULTIVATING CORN--SWEET POTATOES--FERTILITY OF THE SOIL--FATTENING
HOGS--PRESERVING BACON--RAISING CATTLE--SHOOTING-MATCHES--GARDEN
PRODUCTS--FLOWERS AND VERDURE.
Edwin Epps, of whom much will be said during the remainder of this
history, is a large, portly, heavy-bodied man with light hair, high
cheek bones, and a Roman nose of extraordinary dimensions. He has
blue eyes, a fair complexion, and is, as I should say, full six feet
high. He has the sharp, inquisitive expression of a jockey. His
manners are repulsive and coarse, and his language gives speedy and
unequivocal evidence that he has never enjoyed the advantages of an
education. He has the faculty of saying most provoking things, in that
respect even excelling old Peter Tanner. At the time I came into his