Twelve Years a Slave
indeed, while discussing the best method of baking the hoe-cake, or
expatiating at large upon the glory of Jackson, he would forget where
he left his hat, or his hoe, or his basket; and then would the old man
be laughed at, if Epps was absent, and whipped if he was present. So
was he perplexed continually, and sighed to think that he was growing
aged and going to decay. Philosophy and Jackson and forgetfulness had
played the mischief with him, and it was evident that all of them
combined were fast bringing down the gray hairs of Uncle Abram to the
grave.
Aunt Phebe had been an excellent field hand, but latterly was put
into the kitchen, where she remained, except occasionally, in a time
of uncommon hurry. She was a sly old creature, and when not in the
presence of her mistress or her master, was garrulous in the extreme.
Wiley, on the contrary, was silent. He performed his task without
murmur or complaint, seldom indulging in the luxury of speech, except
to utter a wish, that he was away from Epps, and back once more in
South Carolina.
Bob and Henry had reached the ages of twenty and twenty-three, and
were distinguished for nothing extraordinary or unusual, while Edward,
a lad of thirteen, not yet able to maintain his row in the corn or
the cotton field, was kept in the great house, to wait on the little
Eppses.
Patsey was slim and straight. She stood erect as the human form is
capable of standing. There was an air of loftiness in her movement,
that neither labor, nor weariness, nor punishment could destroy.
Truly, Patsey was a splendid animal, and were it not that bondage had
enshrouded her intellect in utter and everlasting darkness, would
have been chief among ten thousand of her people. She could leap the
highest fences, and a fleet hound it was indeed, that could outstrip
her in a race. No horse could fling her from his back. She was a
skillful teamster. She turned as true a furrow as the best, and at
splitting rails there were none who could excel her. When the order
to halt was heard at night, she would have her mules at the crib,
unharnessed, fed and curried, before uncle Abram had found his hat.
Not, however, for all or any of these, was she chiefly famous. Such
lightning-like motion was in her fingers as no other fingers ever
possessed, and therefore it was, that in cotton picking time, Patsey
was queen of the field.
She had a genial and pleasant temper, and was faithful and obedient.
Naturally, she was a joyous creature, a laughing, light-hearted girl,
rejoicing in the mere sense of existence. Yet Patsey wept oftener,
and suffered more, than any of her companions. She had been literally
excoriated. Her back bore the scars of a thousand stripes; not because
she was backward in her work, nor because she was of an unmindful and
rebellious spirit, but because it had fallen to her lot to be the
slave of a licentious master and a jealous mistress. She shrank before
the lustful eye of the one, and was in danger even of her life at the
hands of the other, and between the two, she was indeed accursed. In
the great house, for days together, there were high and angry words,
poutings and estrangement, whereof she was the innocent cause. Nothing
delighted the mistress so much as to see her suffer, and more than
once, when Epps had refused to sell her, has she tempted me with
bribes to put her secretly to death, and bury her body in some lonely
place in the margin of the swamp. Gladly would Patsey have appeased
this unforgiving spirit, if it had been in her power, but not like
Joseph, dared she escape from Master Epps, leaving her garment in his
hand. Patsey walked under a cloud. If she uttered a word in opposition
to her master's will, the lash was resorted to at once, to bring her
to subjection; if she was not watchful when about her cabin, or when
walking in the yard, a billet of wood, or a broken bottle perhaps,
hurled from her mistress' hand, would smite her unexpectedly in the
face. The enslaved victim of lust and hate, Patsey had no comfort of
her life.
These were my companions and fellow-slaves, with whom I was accustomed
to be driven to the field, and with whom it has been my lot to dwell
for ten years in the log cabins of Edwin Epps. They, if living, are
yet toiling on the banks of Bayou Boeuf, never destined to breathe,
as I now do, the blessed air of liberty, nor to shake off the heavy
shackles that enthrall them, until they shall lie down forever in the
dust.
CHAPTER XIV.
DESTRUCTION OF THE COTTON CROP IN 1845--DEMAND FOR LABORERS IN ST.
MARY'S PARISH--SENT THITHER IN A DROVE--THE ORDER OF THE MARCH--THE
GRAND COTEAU--HIRED TO JUDGE TURNER ON BAYOU SALLE--APPOINTED
DRIVER IN HIS SUGAR HOUSE--SUNDAY SERVICES SLAVE FURNITURE, HOW
OBTAINED--THE PARTY AT YARNEY'S IN CENTREVILLE--GOOD FORTUNE--THE
CAPTAIN OF THE STEAMER--HIS REFUSAL TO SECRETE ME--RETURN TO
BAYOU BOEUF--SIGHT OF TIBEATS--PATSEY'S SORROWS--TUMULT AND
CONTENTION--HUNTING THE COON AND OPOSSUM--THE CUNNING OF THE
LATTER--THE LEAN CONDITION OF THE SLAVE--DESCRIPTION OF THE FISH
TRAP--THE MURDER OF THE MAN FROM NATCHEZ--EPPS CHALLENGED BY
MARSHALL--THE INFLUENCE OF SLAVERY--THE LOVE OF FREEDOM.
The first year of Epps' residence on the bayou, 1845, the caterpillars
almost totally destroyed the cotton crop throughout that region.
There was little to be done, so that the slaves were necessarily idle
half the time. However, there came a rumor to Bayou Boeuf that wages
were high, and laborers in great demand on the sugar plantations in
St. Mary's parish. This parish is situated on the coast of the Gulf
of Mexico, about one hundred and forty miles from Avoyelles. The Rio
Teche, a considerable stream, flows through St. Mary's to the gulf.
It was determined by the planters, on the receipt of this
intelligence, to make up a drove of slaves to be sent down to Tuckapaw
in St. Mary's, for the purpose of hiring them out in the cane fields.
Accordingly, in the month of September, there were one hundred and
forty-seven collected at Holmesville, Abram, Bob and myself among the
number. Of these about one-half were women. Epps, Alonson Pierce,
Henry Toler, and Addison Roberts, were the white men, selected to
accompany, and take charge of the drove. They had a two-horse carriage
and two saddle horses for their use. A large wagon, drawn by four
horses, and driven by John, a boy belonging to Mr. Roberts, carried
the blankets and provisions.
About 2 o'clock in the afternoon, having been fed, preparations were
made to depart. The duty assigned me was, to take charge of the
blankets and provisions, and see that none were lost by the way. The
carriage proceeded in advance, the wagon following; behind this the
slaves were arranged, while the two horsemen brought up the rear, and
in this order the procession moved out of Holmesville.
That night we reached a Mr. McCrow's plantation, a distance of ten or
fifteen miles, when we were ordered to halt. Large fires were built,
and each one spreading his blanket on the ground, laid down upon it.
The white men lodged in the great house. An hour before day we were
aroused by the drivers coming among us, cracking their whips and
ordering us to arise. Then the blankets were rolled up, and being
severally delivered to me and deposited in the wagon, the procession
set forth again.
The following night it rained violently. We were all drenched, our
clothes saturated with mud and water. Reaching an open shed, formerly
a gin-house, we found beneath it such shelter as it afforded. There
was not room for all of us to lay down. There we remained, huddled
together, through the night, continuing our march, as usual, in the
morning. During the journey we were fed twice a day, boiling our
bacon and baking our corn-cake at the fires in the same manner as in
our huts. We passed through Lafayetteville, Mountsville, New-Town,
to Centreville, where Bob and Uncle Abram were hired. Our number
decreased as we advanced--nearly every sugar plantation requiring the
services of one or more.
On our route we passed the Grand Coteau or prairie, a vast space of
level, monotonous country, without a tree, except an occasional one
which had been transplanted near some dilapidated dwelling. It was
once thickly populated, and under cultivation, but for some cause
had been abandoned. The business of the scattered inhabitants that
now dwell upon it is principally raising cattle. Immense herds were
feeding upon it as we passed. In the centre of the Grand Coteau one
feels as if he were on the ocean, out of sight of land. As far as the
eye can see, in all directions, it is but a ruined and deserted waste.
I was hired to Judge Turner, a distinguished man and extensive
planter, whose large estate is situated on Bayou Salle, within a few
miles of the gulf. Bay on Salle is a small stream flowing into the bay
of Atchafalaya. For some days I was employed at Turner's in repairing
his sugar house, when a cane knife was put into my hand, and with
thirty or forty others, I was sent into the field. I found no such
difficulty in learning the art of cutting cane that I had in picking
cotton. It came to me naturally and intuitively, and in a short time
I was able to keep up with the fastest knife. Before the cutting was
over, however, Judge Turner transferred me from the field to the sugar
house, to act there in the capacity of driver. From the time of the
commencement of sugar making to the close, the grinding and boiling
does not cease day or night. The whip was given me with directions to
use it upon any one who was caught standing idle. If I failed to obey
them to the letter, there was another one for my own back. In addition
to this my duty was to call on and off the different gangs at the
proper time. I had no regular periods of rest, and could never snatch
but a few moments of sleep at a time.
It is the custom in Louisiana, as I presume it is in other slave
States, to allow the slave to retain whatever compensation he may
obtain for services performed on Sundays. In this way, only, are they
able to provide themselves with any luxury or convenience whatever.
When a slave, purchased, or kidnapped in the North, is transported to
a cabin on Bayou Boeuf he is furnished with neither knife, nor fork,
nor dish, nor kettle, nor any other thing in the shape of crockery, or
furniture of any nature or description. He is furnished with a blanket
before he reaches there, and wrapping that around him, he can either
stand up, or lie down upon the ground, or on a board, if his master
has no use for it. He is at liberty to find a gourd in which to keep
his meal, or he can eat his corn from the cob, just as he pleases.
To ask the master for a knife, or skillet, or any small convenience
of the kind, would be answered with a kick, or laughed at as a joke.
Whatever necessary article of this nature is found in a cabin has been
purchased with Sunday money. However injurious to the morals, it is
certainly a blessing to the physical condition of the slave, to be
permitted to break the Sabbath. Otherwise there would be no way to
provide himself with any utensils, which seem to be indispensable to
him who is compelled to be his own cook.
On cane plantations in sugar time, there is no distinction as to
the days of the week. It is well understood that all hands must
labor on the Sabbath, and it is equally well understood that those
especially who are hired, as I was to Judge Turner, and others in
succeeding years, shall receive remuneration for it. It is usual,
also, in the most hurrying time of cotton-picking, to require the
same extra service. From this source, slaves generally are afforded
an opportunity of earning sufficient to purchase a knife, a kettle,