Twelve Years a Slave
not have been more startled.
"Who are you?" I demanded, after gazing at her a moment.
"I'm hungry; give me some bacon," was her reply.
My first impression was that she was some deranged young mistress,
who, escaping from home, was wandering, she knew not whither, and
had been attracted to my cabin by the sound of the violin. The
coarse cotton slave dress she wore, however, soon dispelled such a
supposition.
"What is your name?" I again interrogated.
"My name is Celeste," she answered. "I belong to Carey, and have been
two days among the palmettoes. I am sick and can't work, and would
rather die in the swamp than be whipped to death by the overseer.
Carey's dogs won't follow me. They have tried to set them on. There's
a secret between them and Celeste, and they wont mind the devilish
orders of the overseer. Give me some meat--I'm starving."
I divided my scanty allowance with her, and while partaking of it,
she related how she had managed to escape, and described the place
of her concealment. In the edge of the swamp, not half a mile from
Epps' house, was a large space, thousands of acres in extent, thickly
covered with palmetto. Tall trees, whose long arms interlocked each
other, formed a canopy above them, so dense as to exclude the beams
of the sun. It was like twilight always, even in the middle of the
brightest day. In the centre of this great space, which nothing but
serpents very often explore--a sombre and solitary spot--Celeste had
erected a rude hut of dead branches that had fallen to the ground,
and covered it with the leaves of the palmetto. This was the abode
she had selected. She had no fear of Carey's dogs, any more than I
had of Epps'. It is a fact, which I have never been able to explain,
that there are those whose tracks the hounds will absolutely refuse to
follow. Celeste was one of them.
For several nights she came to my cabin for food. On one occasion our
dogs barked as she approached, which aroused Epps, and induced him
to reconnoitre the premises. He did not discover her, but after that
it was not deemed prudent for her to come to the yard. When all was
silent I carried provisions to a certain spot agreed upon, where she
would find them.
In this manner Celeste passed the greater part of the summer. She
regained her health, and became strong and hearty. At all seasons of
the year the howlings of wild animals can be heard at night along the
borders of the swamps. Several times they had made her a midnight
call, awakening her from slumber with a growl. Terrified by such
unpleasant salutations, she finally concluded to abandon her lonely
dwelling; and, accordingly, returning to her master, was scourged, her
neck meanwhile being fastened in the stocks, and sent into the field
again.
The year before my arrival in the country there was a concerted
movement among a number of slaves on Bayou Boeuf, that terminated
tragically indeed. It was, I presume, a matter of newspaper notoriety
at the time, but all the knowledge I have of it, has been derived from
the relation of those living at that period in the immediate vicinity
of the excitement. It has become a subject of general and unfailing
interest in every slave-hut on the bayou, and will doubtless go down
to succeeding generations as their chief tradition. Lew Cheney, with
whom I became acquainted--a shrewd, cunning negro, more intelligent
than the generality of his race, but unscrupulous and full of
treachery--conceived the project of organizing a company sufficiently
strong to fight their way against all opposition, to the neighboring
territory of Mexico.
A remote spot, far within the depths of the swamp, back of Hawkins'
plantation, was selected as the rallying point. Lew flitted from one
plantation to another, in the dead of night, preaching a crusade to
Mexico, and, like Peter the Hermit, creating a furor of excitement
wherever he appeared. At length a large number of runaways were
assembled; stolen mules, and corn gathered from the fields, and bacon
filched from smoke-houses, had been conveyed into the woods. The
expedition was about ready to proceed, when their hiding place was
discovered. Lew Cheney, becoming convinced of the ultimate failure of
his project, in order to curry favor with his master, and avoid the
consequences which he foresaw would follow, deliberately determined to
sacrifice all his companions. Departing secretly from the encampment,
he proclaimed among the planters the number collected in the swamp,
and, instead of stating truly the object they had in view, asserted
their intention was to emerge from their seclusion the first favorable
opportunity, and murder every white person along the bayou.
Such an announcement, exaggerated as it passed from mouth to mouth,
filled the whole country with terror. The fugitives were surrounded
and taken prisoners, carried in chains to Alexandria, and hung by
the populace. Not only those, but many who were suspected, though
entirely innocent, were taken from the field and from the cabin,
and without the shadow of process or form of trial, hurried to the
scaffold. The planters on Bayou Boeuf finally rebelled against such
reckless destruction of property, but it was not until a regiment of
soldiers had arrived from some fort on the Texan frontier, demolished
the gallows, and opened the doors of the Alexandria prison, that the
indiscriminate slaughter was stayed. Lew Cheney escaped, and was
even rewarded for his treachery. He is still living, but his name is
despised and execrated by all his race throughout the parishes of
Rapides and Avoyelles.
Such an idea as insurrection, however, is not new among the enslaved
population of Bayou Boeuf. More than once I have joined in serious
consultation, when the subject has been discussed, and there have
been times when a word from me would have placed hundreds of my
fellow-bondsmen in an attitude of defiance. Without arms or
ammunition, or even with them, I saw such a step would result in
certain defeat, disaster and death, and always raised my voice against
it.
During the Mexican war I well remember the extravagant hopes that were
excited. The news of victory filled the great house with rejoicing,
but produced only sorrow and disappointment in the cabin. In my
opinion--and I have had opportunity to know something of the feeling
of which I speak--there are not fifty slaves on the shores of Bayou
Boeuf, but would hail with unmeasured delight the approach of an
invading army.
They are deceived who flatter themselves that the ignorant and
debased slave has no conception of the magnitude of his wrongs. They
are deceived who imagine that he arises from his knees, with back
lacerated and bleeding, cherishing only a spirit of meekness and
forgiveness. A day may come--it _will_ come, if his prayer is heard--a
terrible day of vengeance, when the master in his turn will cry in
vain for mercy.
CHAPTER XVIII.
O'NIEL, THE TANNER--CONVERSATION WITH AUNT PHEBE OVERHEARD--EPPS IN
THE TANNING BUSINESS--STABBING OF UNCLE ABRAM--THE UGLY WOUND--EPPS
IS JEALOUS--PATSEY IS MISSING--HER RETURN FROM SHAW'S--HARRIET,
SHAW'S BLACK WIFE--EPPS ENRAGED--PATSEY DENIES HIS CHARGES--SHE IS
TIED DOWN NAKED TO FOUR STAKES--THE INHUMAN FLOGGING--FLAYING OF
PATSEY--THE BEAUTY OF THE DAY--THE BUCKET OF SALT WATER--THE DRESS
STIFF WITH BLOOD--PATSEY GROWS MELANCHOLY--HER IDEA OF GOD AND
ETERNITY--OF HEAVEN AND FREEDOM--THE EFFECT OF SLAVE-WHIPPING--EPPS'
OLDEST SON--"THE CHILD IS FATHER TO THE MAN."
Wiley suffered severely at the hands of Master Epps, as has been
related in the preceding chapter, but in this respect he fared no
worse than his unfortunate companions. "Spare the rod," was an idea
scouted by our master. He was constitutionally subject to periods of
ill-humor, and at such times, however little provocation there might
be, a certain amount of punishment was inflicted. The circumstances
attending the last flogging but one that I received, will show how
trivial a cause was sufficient with him for resorting to the whip.
A Mr. O'Niel, residing in the vicinity of the Big Pine Woods, called
upon Epps for the purpose of purchasing me. He was a tanner and
currier by occupation, transacting an extensive business, and intended
to place me at service in some department of his establishment,
provided he bought me. Aunt Phebe, while preparing the dinner-table
in the great house, overheard their conversation. On returning to the
yard at night, the old woman ran to meet me, designing, of course,
to overwhelm me with the news. She entered into a minute repetition
of all she had heard, and Aunt Phebe was one whose ears never failed
to drink in every word of conversation uttered in her hearing. She
enlarged upon the fact that "Massa Epps was g'wine to sell me to a
tanner ober in de Pine Woods," so long and loudly as to attract the
attention of the mistress, who, standing unobserved on the piazza at
the time, was listening to our conversation.
"Well, Aunt Phebe," said I, "I'm glad of it. I'm tired of scraping
cotton, and would rather be a tanner. I hope he'll buy me."
O'Niel did not effect a purchase, however, the parties differing as
to price, and the morning following his arrival, departed homewards.
He had been gone but a short time, when Epps made his appearance in
the field. Now nothing will more violently enrage a master, especially
Epps, than the intimation of one of his servants that he would like to
leave him. Mistress Epps had repeated to him my expressions to Aunt
Phebe the evening previous, as I learned from the latter afterwards,
the mistress having mentioned to her that she had overheard us. On
entering the field, Epps walked directly to me.
"So, Platt, you're tired of scraping cotton, are you? You
would like to change your master, eh? You're fond of moving
round--traveler--ain't ye? Ah, yes--like to travel for your health,
may be? Feel above cotton-scraping, I 'spose. So you're going into the
tanning business? Good business--devilish fine business. Enterprising
nigger! B'lieve I'll go into that business myself. Down on your knees,
and strip that rag off your back! I'll try my hand at tanning."
I begged earnestly, and endeavored to soften him with excuses, but in
vain. There was no other alternative; so kneeling down, I presented my
bare back for the application of the lash.
"How do you like _tanning_?" he exclaimed, as the rawhide descended
upon my flesh. "How do you like _tanning_?" he repeated at every
blow. In this manner he gave me twenty or thirty lashes, incessantly
giving utterance to the word "tanning," in one form of expression or
another. When sufficiently "tanned," he allowed me to arise, and with
a half-malicious laugh assured me, if I still fancied the business, he
would give me further instruction in it whenever I desired. This time,
he remarked, he had only given me a short lesson in "_tanning_"--the
next time he would "curry me down."
Uncle Abram, also, was frequently treated with great brutality,
although he was one of the kindest and most faithful creatures in
the world. He was my cabin-mate for years. There was a benevolent
expression in the old man's face, pleasant to behold. He regarded us
with a kind of parental feeling, always counseling us with remarkable
gravity and deliberation.
Returning from Marshall's plantation one afternoon, whither I had been
sent on some errand of the mistress, I found him lying on the cabin
floor, his clothes saturated with blood. He informed me that he had
been stabbed! While spreading cotton on the scaffold, Epps came home
intoxicated from Holmesville. He found fault with every thing, giving
many orders so directly contrary that it was impossible to execute
any of them. Uncle Abram, whose faculties were growing dull, became