A Woman's Life-Work-Labors and Experiences of Laura S. Haviland Part 20

She went on in that strain that reminded me of St. Clair's "cursing up hill and down" that almost frightened the New England old maid of "Uncle Tom's Cabin." I trembled myself, expecting every moment that some member of the family would hear her.

Two days later was washing-day, and the cook, Aunt Winnie, told her mistress she was too sick to do the very large washing for three boarders besides the family. I heard the mistress cursing her, and telling her she could if she had a mind to, and charged her with being lazy.

In came her son Joe. "What's all this fuss?"

"O, it's Winnie says she's sick and can't do the washing this week."

"Sick! I'll see how sick she is," and he took up a billet of stove wood and commenced beating her over her head and shoulders, and swearing that he would give her something to be sick for. Mrs. Springer called my attention to the quarrel of Mrs. Shears with her cook before Joe Shears came in. Then said she, "Poor Aunt Winnie will catch it now, I'll warrant. There, just hear those blows; they sound like beating the table; he'll kill her." And table, stools, and tin-pans or pails made racket enough for the whole kitchen to be falling down. The struggle with a volley of oaths lasted a few minutes.

Mrs. Springer, up to boiling rage again, "Hear that; what devils they are; don't you believe Aunt Winnie will die? Why, I can't hold still."

In as careless a manner as I could command I said, "We can do no good by saying any thing. You know what your son said the other night."

"I know it; but there isn't a particle of humanity about them. I feel as if I want to pitch into the whole Shears family." Soon all was quiet.

"I believe Aunt Winnie is dead, don't you?"

"I think not."

"I am going in there to see."

As she got up to go to the kitchen she took the pitcher for water.

While she was pumping the water near the kitchen-door, Aunt Winnie staggered to the door trying to wind a cloth around her bleeding head, and one eye was swollen shut. As she came in and reported how badly she was bruised up, she wanted me to take the pitcher and go to the pump for water; but I told her I would wait a little, for they might think we went on purpose to see Winnie.

"Poor thing, I know she came to the door on purpose to let me see her."

And Mrs. Springer could not rest satisfied until I drew the next pitcher of water, when the poor woman reeled to the door with her hand on her head and the cloth around it saturated with blood. I could not sleep a wink after the day of the unmerciful whipping of those two little boys. Again the night after this unmerciful beating of this poor woman was spent in weeping, and prayer to Him who hears the cries of his oppressed children.

A few days after Aunt Winnie came to Mrs. Springer and asked her if she would cut and make a green delaine sacque for her, and cut a calico skirt, as she could make that in the night, and charged her not to let her mistress see it or let her know she had it, because her husband got it for her and gave her seventy-five cents to get Mrs. Springer to cut it; "for he is going to take me away three weeks from next Sat.u.r.day night, 'cause the people are so hard here; he says I shan't stay here any longer." "I am so sorry for her, I told her to come in when her mistress and Joe Shears's wife are away making calls, and I would take her measure and cut and baste it: then for her to come in after they are all in bed and I would fit it and make it any time, keeping it under a sheet I've got to make, and in that way I can keep it out of sight; and I told her you and my daughter will say nothing about it.

Said Winnie, 'I knows that by her face.' Do you know how quick these black people read faces?"

While she was sewing on Aunt Winnie's sacque, Joe Shears's wife came into our room a little while, and the daughter looked out the back window, where Jack was chopping, and said, "I don't think your Jack is going to live long."

"Why? I'm sure he eats hearty."

"He looks so bad out of his eyes; I've noticed it a few days past, and I've noticed he sort o' staggers sometimes, and he don't talk natural."

She jumped up and looked at him and hastened to her mother in law's room.

"Mother, Miss Springer says Jack is going to die."

"What makes her think Jack is going to die? I don't see any thing ails Jack, he eats hearty."

Miss Springer (laughing): "I thought I'd scare her out. I wish I could scare them to death, so they would treat their n.i.g.g.e.rs like human beings."

"Well, you've got her out of the way long enough to get Winnie's sacque out of sight before our Joe comes in, for he's so mighty careful for fear we'll get into trouble; I know he'd scold if he knew it."

Strange position I was occupying, here among the most cruel of slave-holders. And they were calling me a superintendent of the underground railroad at home; and here was the starting-point on our underground railway, but a silent listener, and in surprise, I said, "Where can Aunt Winnie and her husband go? As you say, he is a slave."

"I don't know, but they do go somewhere out of the way of their owners, though they keep up a mighty hunt for a long time; yet a good many of 'em are never heard from; and I don't know where in creation they do go, and I don't care, so they get away from these hyenas that have no more feelings for their n.i.g.g.e.rs than a wild animal, nor half as much. I just wonder sometimes that the n.i.g.g.e.rs don't turn upon 'em and kill such devils. I know I would if I were in their places." "Yet there are those who treat their servants kindly," I replied. I felt sometimes as if I was compelled to be indifferent.

My friend pa.s.sed the window at which I was engaged in sewing. After a few moments I made an excuse to rest myself by taking a little walk, as each of us frequently did. I soon overtook this friend who informed me that Ann wished to see me after her tea was over, when she would be released for a half hour to walk out on the back way with a free mulatto girl, who was her intimate and confidential friend, and I was to go in a large yard of shrubs and fruit trees where I was to meet this friend who would call for Ann, with whom we were to take the proposed walk. At the appointed time and place I met the friend, who directed me to stand in a place out of sight of the street, or little cabin, the home of her very aged and decrepit parents, who were worn-out slaves, and as I understood were given their freedom. Their slave-daughter was permitted to step in and do little ch.o.r.es for them after her day's work was done.

While waiting in this lonely and solitary nook, three large bloodhounds came in sight. I remembered of hearing about their being let loose after sunset, to reconnoiter the premises, and I called to mind what I had heard and read in history, that however ferocious an animal is, a stern and steady gaze in the eye, by a human being, would disarm it of ferocity, and cause it to leave. This course I resolved to pursue with these three formidable enemies, that were already a.s.suming a threatening att.i.tude, with a low growl, showing their teeth, with hair on end--the leader as large as a yearling calf, the two following him slightly smaller. I fixed my eyes upon the sparkling eyes of the leader, that came within six feet and stopped; soon the growl ceased, the lips dropped over the long tusks, the hair smoothed back, and he quietly walked off with his companions. Soon came the girl, all out of breath: "Did the hounds come to you?"

"They did."

"Oh, dear! what did you do?"

"I stood perfectly still," I answered, "and looked in the eyes of the leader, and they soon became quiet and walked away."

"Oh, dear, that was the only thing that saved your life. If you had stirred a particle they would have torn you in pieces. I was so anxious to have Ann see you, I forgot the hounds until I started back, and I liked to have fainted, for I know they were awful. I liked to have screamed out 'G.o.d have mercy on that dear friend,' for I was 'most sure I'd find you killed."

"Oh, no, the Lord has preserved me, and I am not harmed." She was so badly frightened that it was some time before her voice ceased trembling; but He who is ever present with his trusting children was there.

Arrangements were made for Ann to go North, but if a word of suspicion was heard, I told her she must defer going to a future time; that she must go as her brother went, perfectly independent of any one, which she was confident of doing; but she wished to go on the same boat with me, if no one else was going from their city. I learned through her friend that she was overheard to ask a friend of hers for a shawl for a journey. I sent her word to abandon the idea of going then at once; that I should take the first boat for home.

She did not obtain her freedom until after her mother's death, two or three years later. I did not regard the trip lost, painful as it was.

There was on the boat a sad couple, taken from a number of their children by a young beardless boy, perhaps eighteen or twenty, small and slender. I noticed them frequently in tears. They were noticed by a few of the pa.s.sengers, who made remarks about the sad faces of those negroes. Said one heartless woman, "Look at that n.i.g.g.e.r cryin'. I don't see what she's cryin' about; she's got her young one and man to her heels." I carelessly watched for an opportunity to speak with one or both of these children of sorrow. As they sat on a pile of cable on the rear deck I caught the opportunity to inquire where they were going.

"We don't know; our young ma.s.sa got to frettin', an' ole ma.s.sa gib us to him and some money, an' tole him to go. We lef' three bigger chillun behin'; never 'spects to see 'em ag'in; I wish he'd buy a plantation somewhar, so we could go to work; 'pears like thar's no comfort for us poor people, only when we's got work, an' stops studyin' so much."

As the tears began to fall thick and fast, I took them by the hand and told them Jesus was the friend of the poor, and he had many followers who also remembered them in prayer. And he knew of their sorrow, and as they went to him he would comfort their sorrowing hearts. Pointing to his wife, he said, "She knows that, and I wish I did." I charged them to make no mention of my having spoken to them. For while they were slaves, I was not free. This young man with his heavy-hearted couple left our boat at Pine Bluff.

Surely I had seen enough of slavery in its own household. Three weeks was long enough to see and feel its virus. I met my old friends in Cincinnati with a glad heart, where I could draw a free breath. I could visit them but two days before I was on my way home, where were many glad hearts to listen in private circles to my experience in a slave State. More than ever they were convinced that the cannon and sword would, at no very distant day, destroy the monster.

Our inst.i.tution was now in its second academic year, in charge of Joseph D. Millard, of Oberlin College. The stockholders had turned it over into my hands, making me sole-proprietor of the inst.i.tution, with all its multiform cares and responsibilities. I had also frequent calls from fugitives in flight for freedom, whose claims were second to none other. But to see prejudice in our students melt away by an acquaintance with our work, richly repaid me for all my day and night toiling and cares, that seemed almost crushing at times. I purchased for the young men's hall a building that was erected for a water cure.

That project failed, and the building that cost $2,000 to erect, was offered for three hundred dollars for my inst.i.tution. I moved it one mile, and repaired it with fifteen rooms; and it was well filled the first year. This academic year of our usual three terms our students numbered over two hundred, mostly of those who had been teaching, or preparing themselves for teachers, or for a collegiate course. I served as preceptress, and was closely confined in school work. Realizing in a great measure the importance of molding the mind of youth for usefulness, these years of constant care pa.s.sed pleasantly with the hundreds of young people of our own and adjoining counties.

A colored man, with a farmer's bag swung over his shoulder, approached two men at work on the railroad between Palmyra and Adrian, and inquired how far it was to Michigan.

"You are in Michigan, you fool you," was their reply.

"Then, will you please tell me how far it is to Canada?"

"You go to Adrian, about a mile ahead, and take the cars, and they'll take you to Canada in two hours; or, if you haven't money to go that way, you can go up that road till you come to the Quaker meeting-house, and go direct east two miles to the Widow Haviland's school, and she will tell you how to go to Canada, and it won't cost you any thing.'

She is a great friend to your people."

He soon found me. I got my supper out of the way, and my men folks out again at their work. I then inquired who directed him to me, and he told me "two men six miles from this school said you was a frien' to my people; an' I thought if folks knew you six miles off I would be safe to come to you, 'case I wants to go to Canada right soon. I started once before, and traveled three nights by the North star; and as Indiana was a free State I thought I would stop and buy me some broad, an' the people was mighty kind, and said I could rest a week, and they would pay me for the work I did, to help me on to Canada. But firs' I knew my master come for me, an' I seed him pay them money--s'pose 't was reward."

This time he was so cautious that he would make a friend of no one until he reached Michigan. They had always heard people were friends to colored people in this State. He was six weeks from Kentucky, and had not dared to make his condition known to any one, white or black, until he saw a colored man in the yard at Dr Bailey's, of whom he inquired for my house. I told him that his coat and pants were too ragged, and that I must repair them. As he had not a second shirt, I took one of my son's, and gave him a couple of towels, soap, and a pail of warm water, and told him to take off his coat for me to mend, while he went up stairs to the room over the kitchen to change his shirt. He hesitated about taking off his coat, until I told him he must. "I am not your mistress," said I, "and yet you must mind me." Tears started as he slowly drew it off, when the torn and b.l.o.o.d.y shirtsleeves revealed the long sears, and a few unhealed sores on his arms. Said I, "Are these the marks of the slave whip?"

He nodded a.s.sent, while tears were falling.

"When was this done?"

"Two nights afore I lef'."

"What was jour offence?"

"Dis was what I got for runnin' off, an' I fainted, an' master dragged me in my cabin, and didn't lock me in, 'case I's so weak. I reckon he thought I's safe. But I got an ing'on to rub over the bottoms of my shoes so dogs couldn't foller me, an' I got four loaves o' bread and a big piece o' boiled meat, an' crawled into de barn an' tuck dis bag an'