Twelve Years a Slave
scene, their open mouths and rolling eyes indicating the utmost wonder
and astonishment. For ten years I had dwelt among them, in the field
and in the cabin, borne the same hardships, partaken the same fare,
mingled my griefs with theirs, participated in the same scanty joys;
nevertheless, not until this hour, the last I was to remain among
them, had the remotest suspicion of my true name, or the slightest
knowledge of my real history, been entertained by any one of them.
Not a word was spoken for several minutes, during which time I clung
fast to Northup, looking up into his face, fearful I should awake and
find it all a dream.
"Throw down that sack," Northup added, finally; "your cotton-picking
days are over. Come with us to the man you live with."
I obeyed him, and walking between him and the sheriff, we moved
towards the great house. It was not until we had proceeded some
distance that I had recovered my voice sufficiently to ask if my
family were all living. He informed me he had seen Anne, Margaret
and Elizabeth but a short time previously; that Alonzo was also
living, and all were well. My mother, however, I could never see
again. As I began to recover in some measure from the sudden and great
excitement which so overwhelmed me, I grew faint and weak, insomuch
it was with difficulty I could walk. The sheriff took hold of my arm
and assisted me, or I think I should have fallen. As we entered the
yard, Epps stood by the gate, conversing with the driver. That young
man, faithful to his instructions, was entirely unable to give him
the least information in answer to his repeated inquiries of what was
going on. By the time we reached him he was almost as much amazed and
puzzled as Bob or Uncle Abram.
Shaking hands with the sheriff, and receiving an introduction to Mr.
Northup, he invited them into the house, ordering me, at the same
time, to bring in some wood. It was some time before I succeeded in
cutting an armful, having, somehow, unaccountably lost the power of
wielding the axe with any manner of precision. When I entered with it
at last, the table was strewn with papers, from one of which Northup
was reading. I was probably longer than necessity required, in placing
the sticks upon the fire, being particular as to the exact position
of each individual one of them. I heard the words, "the said Solomon
Northup," and "the deponent further says," and "free citizen of
New-York," repeated frequently, and from these expressions understood
that the secret I had so long retained from Master and Mistress Epps,
was finally developing. I lingered as long as prudence permitted,
and was about leaving the room, when Epps inquired,
"Platt, do you know this gentleman?"
"Yes, master," I replied, "I have known him as long as I can remember."
"Where does he live?"
"He lives in New-York."
"Did you ever live there?"
"Yes, master--born and bred there."
"You was free, then. Now you d----d nigger," he exclaimed, "why did
you not tell me that when I bought you?"
"Master Epps," I answered, in a somewhat different tone than the one
in which I had been accustomed to address him--"Master Epps, you did
not take the trouble to ask me; besides, I told one of my owners--the
man that kidnapped me--that I was free, and was whipped almost to
death for it."
"It seems there has been a letter written for you by somebody. Now,
who is it?" he demanded, authoritatively. I made no reply.
"I say, who wrote that letter?" he demanded again.
"Perhaps I wrote it myself," I said.
"You haven't been to Marksville post-office and back before light, I
know."
He insisted upon my informing him, and I insisted I would not. He
made many vehement threats against the man, whoever he might be, and
intimated the bloody and savage vengeance he would wreak upon him,
when he found him out. His whole manner and language exhibited a
feeling of anger towards the unknown person who had written for me,
and of fretfulness at the idea of losing so much property. Addressing
Mr. Northup, he swore if he had only had an hour's notice of his
coming, he would have saved him the trouble of taking me back to
New-York; that he would have run me into the swamp, or some other
place out of the way, where all the sheriffs on earth couldn't have
found me.
I walked out into the yard, and was entering the kitchen door, when
something struck me in the back. Aunt Phebe, emerging from the back
door of the great house with a pan of potatoes, had thrown one of them
with unnecessary violence, thereby giving me to understand that she
wished to speak to me a moment confidentially. Running up to me, she
whispered in my ear with great earnestness,
"Lor a' mity, Platt! what d'ye think? Dem two men come after ye. Heard
'em tell massa you free--got wife and tree children back thar whar you
come from. Goin' wid 'em? Fool if ye don't--wish I could go," and Aunt
Phebe ran on in this manner at a rapid rate.
Presently Mistress Epps made her appearance in the kitchen. She said
many things to me, and wondered why I had not told her who I was.
She expressed her regret, complimenting me by saying she had rather
lose any other servant on the plantation. Had Patsey that day stood
in my place, the measure of my mistress' joy would have overflowed.
Now there was no one left who could mend a chair or a piece of
furniture--no one who was of any use about the house--no one who could
play for her on the violin--and Mistress Epps was actually affected to
tears.
Epps had called to Bob to bring up his saddle horse. The other slaves,
also, overcoming their fear of the penalty, had left their work and
come to the yard. They were standing behind the cabins, out of sight
of Epps. They beckoned me to come to them, and with all the eagerness
of curiosity, excited to the highest pitch, conversed with and
questioned me. If I could repeat the exact words they uttered, with
the same emphasis--if I could paint their several attitudes, and the
expression of their countenances--it would be indeed an interesting
picture. In their estimation, I had suddenly arisen to an immeasurable
height--had become a being of immense importance.
The legal papers having been served, and arrangements made with Epps
to meet them the next day at Marksville, Northup and the sheriff
entered the carriage to return to the latter place. As I was about
mounting to the driver's seat, the sheriff said I ought to bid Mr. and
Mrs. Epps good bye. I ran back to the piazza where they were standing,
and taking off my hat, said,
"Good-bye, missis."
"Good-bye, Platt," said Mrs. Epps, kindly.
"Good-bye, master."
"Ah! you d--d nigger," muttered Epps, in a surly, malicious tone of
voice, "you needn't feel so cussed tickled--you ain't gone yet--I'll
see about this business at Marksville to-morrow."
I was only a "_nigger_" and knew my place, but felt as strongly as if
I had been a white man, that it would have been an inward comfort,
had I dared to have given him a parting kick. On my way back to the
carriage, Patsey ran from behind a cabin and threw her arms about my
neck.
"Oh! Platt," she cried, tears streaming down her face, "you're goin'
to be free--you're goin' way off yonder where we'll neber see ye any
more. You've saved me a good many whippins, Platt; I'm glad you're
goin' to be free--but oh! de Lord, de Lord! what'll become of me?"
I disengaged myself from her, and entered the carriage. The driver
cracked his whip and away we rolled. I looked back and saw Patsey,
with drooping head, half reclining on the ground; Mrs. Epps was on the
piazza; Uncle Abram, and Bob, and Wiley, and Aunt Phebe stood by the
gate, gazing after me. I waved my hand, but the carriage turned a bend
of the bayou, hiding them from my eyes forever.
We stopped a moment at Carey's sugar house, where a great number of
slaves were at work, such an establishment being a curiosity to a
Northern man. Epps dashed by us on horseback at full speed--on the
way, as we learned next day, to the "Pine Woods," to see William Ford,
who had brought me into the country.
Tuesday, the fourth of January, Epps and his counsel, the Hon. H.
Taylor, Northup, Waddill, the Judge and sheriff of Avoyelles, and
myself, met in a room in the village of Marksville. Mr. Northup stated
the facts in regard to me, and presented his commission, and the
affidavits accompanying it. The sheriff described the scene in the
cotton field. I was also interrogated at great length. Finally, Mr.
Taylor assured his client that he was satisfied, and that litigation
would not only be expensive, but utterly useless. In accordance with
his advice, a paper was drawn up and signed by the proper parties,
wherein Epps acknowledged he was satisfied of my right to freedom, and
formally surrendered me to the authorities of New-York. It was also
stipulated that it be entered of record in the recorder's office of
Avoyelles.[3]
Mr. Northup and myself immediately hastened to the landing, and taking
passage on the first steamer that arrived, were soon floating down
Red River, up which, with such desponding thoughts, I had been borne
twelve years before.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] See Appendix A.
[2] See Appendix B.
[3] See Appendix C.
CHAPTER XXII.
ARRIVAL IN NEW-ORLEANS--GLIMPSE OF FREEMAN--GENOIS, THE
RECORDER--HIS DESCRIPTION OF SOLOMON--REACH CHARLESTON--INTERRUPTED
BY CUSTOM HOUSE OFFICERS--PASS THROUGH RICHMOND--ARRIVAL IN
WASHINGTON--BURCH ARRESTED--SHEKELS AND THORN--THEIR TESTIMONY--BURCH
ACQUITTED--ARREST OF SOLOMON--BURCH WITHDRAWS THE COMPLAINT--THE
HIGHER TRIBUNAL--DEPARTURE FROM WASHINGTON--ARRIVAL AT SANDY
HILL--OLD FRIENDS AND FAMILIAR SCENES--PROCEED TO GLENS
FALLS--MEETING WITH ANNE, MARGARET AND ELIZABETH--SOLOMON NORTHUP
STAUNTON--INCIDENTS--CONCLUSION.
As the steamer glided on its way towards New-Orleans, _perhaps_ I was
not happy--_perhaps_ there was no difficulty in restraining myself
from dancing round the deck--perhaps I did not feel grateful to the
man who had come so many hundred miles for me--perhaps I did not
light his pipe, and wait and watch his word, and run at his slightest
bidding. If I didn't--well, no matter.
We tarried at New-Orleans two days. During that time I pointed out the
locality of Freeman's slave pen, and the room in which Ford purchased
me. We happened to meet Theophilus in the street, but I did not think
it worth while to renew acquaintance with him. From respectable
citizens we ascertained he had become a low, miserable rowdy--a
broken-down, disreputable man.
We also visited the recorder, Mr. Genois, to whom Senator Soule's
letter was directed, and found him a man well deserving the wide and
honorable reputation that he bears. He very generously furnished us
with a sort of legal pass, over his signature and seal of office, and
as it contains the recorder's description of my personal appearance,
it may not be amiss to insert it here. The following is a copy:
"_State of Louisiana_--_City of New-Orleans_:
Recorder's Office, Second District.
"To all to whom these presents shall come:--
"This is to certify that Henry B. Northup, Esquire, of the county
of Washington, New-York, has produced before me due evidence
of the freedom of Solomon, a mulatto man, aged about forty-two
years, five feet, seven inches and six lines, woolly hair, and
chestnut eyes, who is a native born of the State of New-York. That
the said Northup, being about bringing the said Solomon to his
native place, through the southern routes, the civil authorities
are requested to let the aforesaid colored man Solomon pass