The Freedmen's Book Part 11

BY L. MARIA CHILD.

This man was a slave, born in Virginia. His lot was more tolerable than that of many who are doomed to bondage; but from his early youth he always longed to be free. Nature had in fact made him too intelligent and energetic to be contented in Slavery. Perhaps he would have attempted to escape sooner than he did, had he not become in love with a beautiful octoroon slave named Susan. She was the daughter of her master, and the blood of the white race predominated in several of her ancestors. Her eyes were blue, and her glossy dark hair fell in soft, silky ringlets. Her lover was an unmixed black, and he also was handsome. His features were well formed, and his large dark eyes were very bright and expressive. He had a manly air, his motions were easy and dignified, and altogether he looked like a being that would never consent to wear a chain.

If he had hated Slavery before, he naturally hated it worse after he had married Susan; for a handsome woman, who is a slave, is constantly liable to insult and wrong, from which an enslaved husband has no power to protect her. They laid plans to escape; but unfortunately their intention was discovered before they could carry it into effect. To avoid being sold to the far South, where he could have no hopes of ever rejoining his beloved Susan, he ran to the woods, where he remained concealed several months, suffering much from privation and anxiety. His wife knew where he was, and succeeded in conveying some messages to him, without being detected. She persuaded him not to wait for a chance to take her with him, but to go to Canada and earn money enough to buy her freedom, and then she would go to him.

He travelled only in the night, and by careful management, after a good deal of hardship, he reached the Northern States, and pa.s.sed into Canada. There he let himself out to work on the farm of a man named d.i.c.kson. He was so strong, industrious, intelligent, and well behaved, that the farmer hoped to keep him a long time in his employ. He never mentioned that he was born a slave; for the idea was always hateful to him, and he thought also that circ.u.mstances might arise which would render it prudent to keep his own secret. He showed little inclination for conversation, and occupied every leisure moment in learning to read and write. He remained there half a year, without any tidings from his wife; for there are many difficulties in the way of slaves communicating with each other at a distance. He became sad and restless. His employer noticed it, and tried to cheer him up. One day he said to him: "Madison, you seem to be discontented. What have you to complain of? Do you think you are not treated well here? Or are you dissatisfied with the wages I give you?"

"I have no complaint to make of my treatment, sir," replied Madison.

"You have been just and kind to me; and since you manifest so much interest in me, I will tell you what it is that makes me so gloomy."

He then related his story, and told how his heart was homesick for his dear Susan. He said she was so handsome that they would ask a high price for her, and he had been calculating that it would take him years to earn enough to buy her; meanwhile, he knew not what might happen to her.

There was no law to protect a slave, and he feared all sorts of things; especially, he was afraid they might sell her to the far South, where he could never trace her. So he said he had made up his mind to go back to Virginia and try to bring her away. Mr. d.i.c.kson urged him not to attempt it. He reminded him of the dangers he would incur: that he would run a great risk of getting back into Slavery, and that perhaps he himself would be sold to the far South, where he never would be able to communicate with his wife. But Madison replied, "I am well aware of that, sir; but freedom does me no good unless Susan can share it with me."

He accordingly left his safe place of refuge, and started for Virginia.

He had free-papers made out, which he thought would protect him till he arrived in the neighborhood where he was known. He also purchased several small files and saws, which he concealed in the lining of his clothes. With these tools he thought he could effect his escape from prison, if he should be taken up on the suspicion of being a runaway slave. Pa.s.sing through the State of Ohio, he met several who had previously seen him on his way to Canada. They all tried to persuade him not to go back to Virginia; telling him there were nine chances out of ten that he would get caught and carried back into Slavery again. But his answer always was, "Freedom does me no good while my wife is a slave."

When he came to the region where he was known, he hid in woods and swamps during the day, and travelled only in the night. At last he came in sight of his master's farm, and hid himself in the woods near by.

There he remained several days, in a dreadful state of suspense and anxiety. He could not contrive any means to obtain information concerning his wife. He was afraid they might have sold her, for fear she would follow him. He prowled about in the night, in hopes of seeing some old acquaintance, who would tell him whether she was still at the old place; but he saw no one whom he could venture to trust. At last fortune favored him. One evening he heard many voices singing, and he knew by their songs that they were slaves. As they pa.s.sed up the road, he came out from the woods and joined them. There were so many of them that the addition of one more was not noticed. He found that they were slaves from several plantations, who had permits from their masters to go to a corn-shucking. They were merry, for they were expecting to have a lively time and a comfortable supper. Being a moonless evening, they could not see Madison's face, and he was careful not to let them discover who he was. He went with them to the corn-shucking; and, keeping himself in the shadow all the time, he contrived, in the course of conversation, to find out all he wanted to know. Susan was not sold, and she was living in the same house where he had left her. He was hungry, for he had been several days without food, except such as he could pick up in the woods; but he did not dare to show his face at the supper, where dozens would be sure to recognize him. So he skulked away into the woods again, happy in the consciousness that his Susan was not far off.

He resolved to attempt to see her the next night. He was afraid to tap at her window after all the people in the Great House were abed and asleep; for, as she supposed he was in Canada, he thought she might be frightened and call somebody. He therefore ventured to approach her room in the evening. Unfortunately, the overseer saw him, and called a number of whites, who rushed into the room just as he entered it. He fought hard, and knocked down three of them in his efforts to escape. But they struck at him with their bowie-knives till he was so faint with loss of blood that he could resist no longer. They chained him and carried him to Richmond, where he was placed in the jail. His prospects were now dreary enough. His long-cherished hope of being reunited to his dear wife vanished away in the darkness of despair.

There was a slave-trader in Richmond buying a gang of slaves for the market of New Orleans. Madison Washington was sold to him, and carried on board the brig Creole, owned by Johnson and Eperson, of Richmond, and commanded by Captain Enson. The brig was lying at the dock waiting for her cargo, which consisted of tobacco, hemp, flax, and slaves. There were two separate cabins for the slaves: one for the men and the other for the women. Some of the poor creatures belonged to Johnson and Eperson, some to Thomas McCargo, and some to Henry Hewell. Each had a little private history of separation and sorrow. There was many a bleeding heart there, beside the n.o.ble heart that was throbbing in the bosom of Madison Washington. His purchasers saw that he was intelligent, and they knew that he was sold for having escaped to Canada. He was therefore chained to the floor of the cabin and closely watched. He seemed quiet and even cheerful, and they concluded that he was reconciled to his fate. On the contrary, he was never further from such a state of mind. He closely observed the slaves who were in the cabin with him. His discriminating eye soon selected those whom he could trust. To them he whispered that there were more than a hundred slaves on board, and few whites. He had his saws and files still hidden in the lining of his clothes. These were busily used to open their chains, while the captain and crew were asleep. They still continued to wear their chains, and no one suspected that they could slip their hands and feet out at their pleasure.

When the Creole had been nine days out they encountered rough weather.

Most of the slaves were sea-sick, and therefore were not watched so closely as usual. On the night of November 7, 1841, the wind was blowing hard. The captain and mate were on deck, and nearly all the crew. Mr.

Henry Hewell, one of the owners of the cargo of slaves, who had formerly been a slave-driver on a plantation, was seated on the companion, smoking a cigar. The first watch had just been summoned, when Madison Washington sprang on deck, followed by eighteen other slaves. They seized whatever they could find to use as weapons. Hewell drew a pistol from under his coat, fired at one of the slaves and killed him. Madison Washington struck at him with a capstan-bar, and he fell dead at his feet. The first and second mates both attacked Madison at once. His strong arms threw them upon the deck wounded, but not killed. He fought for freedom, not for revenge; and as soon as they had disarmed the whites and secured them safely, he called out to his accomplices not to shed blood. With his own hands he dressed the wounds of the crew, and told them they had nothing to fear if they would obey his orders. The man who had been a chained slave half an hour before was now master of the vessel, and his grateful companions called him Captain Washington.

Being ignorant of navigation, he told Merritt, the first mate, that he should have the freedom of the deck, if he would take an oath to carry the brig faithfully into the nearest port of the British West Indies; and he was afraid to do otherwise.

The next morning Captain Washington ordered the cook to prepare the best breakfast the store-room could furnish, for it was his intention to give all the freed slaves a good meal. The women, who had been greatly frightened by the tumult the night before, were glad enough to come out of their close cabin into the fresh air. And who do you think was among them? Susan, the beautiful young wife of Madison, was there! She had been accused of communicating with her husband in Canada, and being therefore considered a dangerous person, she had been sold to the slave-trader to be carried to the market of New Orleans. Neither of them knew that the other was on board. With a cry of surprise and joy they rushed into each other's arms. The freed slaves threw up their caps and hurrahed again and again, till the sea-gulls wondered at the noise. O, it was a joyful, joyful time! Captain Washington was repaid for all he had suffered. He had gained his own liberty, after having struggled for it in vain for years; he had freed a hundred and thirty-four of his oppressed brethren and sisters; and he had his beloved Susan in his arms, carrying her to a land where the laws would protect their domestic happiness. He felt richer at that moment than any king with a golden crown upon his head.

There had been but two lives lost. One white man was killed in the affray, and he was the slave-driver who shot down one of the slaves.

Captain Enson and others who were wounded were kindly cared for by Captain Washington. They proved ungrateful, and tried to regain possession of the vessel and the slaves. The blacks were so exasperated by this attempt, that they wanted to kill all the whites on board. But Captain Washington called out to them: "We have got our liberty, and that is all we have been fighting for. Let no more blood be shed! I have promised to protect these men. They have shown that they are not worthy of it; but let us be magnanimous."

Next morning the Creole arrived at Na.s.sau, in the island of New Providence. Captain Washington and his companions sprang out upon free soil. There he and his beloved Susan are living under the protection of laws which make no distinctions on account of complexion.

EXTRACT FROM THE VIRGINIA BILL OF RIGHTS.

"The election of members to serve as representatives of the people in a.s.sembly ought to be free; and all men having sufficient evidence of permanent common interest with, and attachment to, the community have the right of suffrage; and they cannot be taxed, or deprived of their property for public uses, without their own consent, or that of their representatives so elected; nor can they be bound by any law to which they have not a.s.sented, in like manner, for the public good."

The Virginia Bill of Rights was unanimously adopted by the people, in June, 1776; and when they met, in January, 1830, to amend the const.i.tution of the State, they voted that the Bill of Rights needed no amendment.

PRAISE OF CREATION.

BY GEORGE HORTON.

Creation fires my tongue!

Nature, thy anthems raise, And spread the universal song Of thy Creator's praise.

When each revolving wheel a.s.sumed its sphere sublime, Submissive Earth then heard the peal, And struck the march of time.

The march in heaven begun, And splendor filled the skies, When Wisdom bade the morning sun With joy from chaos rise.

The angels heard the tune Throughout creation ring; They seized their golden harps as soon, And touched on every string.

When time and s.p.a.ce were young, And music rolled along, The morning stars together sung, And heaven was drowned in song.

FREDERICK DOUGLa.s.s.

BY L. MARIA CHILD.

Captain Anthony owned two or three farms on the eastern sh.o.r.e of Maryland, and held about thirty slaves. One of them, a black woman named Betsy, married a free black man named Isaac Baily; and they had a numerous family of children, all of whom were, of course, slaves to Captain Anthony. When she became an old widow she lived in a hut separate from the other slaves, and was princ.i.p.ally employed in nursing troops of babies, which her children brought into the world for the benefit of their master. Somewhere about the year 1817, Harriet, the youngest of her five daughters, gave birth to a boy, on whom she bestowed the high-sounding name of Frederick Augustus Washington Baily.

As she could not be spared from field-work, baby Frederick joined the band of little slaves that were under his grandmother's care. Her hut was made of logs, with no windows, a clay floor, and a mud chimney. But the children were as well satisfied with it as if it had been a palace.

They were too young to know that they were slaves, and they were as happy as little wild animals. They imitated the noises made by cats, dogs, pigs, and barn-yard fowls, and rolled over and over on the ground, laughing at their own fun. If the mud or dust made them uncomfortable, they walked into the river without undressing; for the short tow shirt, which was their only garment, was washed by swimming, and soon dried in the sunshine. There was a wood close by, and it was one of their greatest pleasures to watch the squirrels as they frisked about, or sat on the stumps eating nuts. Near the hut was a well, with its beam placed between the boughs of an old tree, and so well balanced that the children could easily help themselves to water. Down in a valley, not far off, was a water-mill, where people went to get their corn ground.

It was capital sport to play at fishing in the mill-pond, with thread lines, and hooks made of bent pins; and they were never tired of seeing the big wheel turn round, throwing off great drops of water that sparkled in the sunshine. They lived mostly on corn mush, which they ate from a big wooden tray, with oyster-sh.e.l.ls for spoons. But they were as healthy as little pigs, and enjoyed their coa.r.s.e food as well.

The greatest of their blessings was their good grandmother, who nursed them kindly and did all she could to make them happy. They loved her dearly; and when she was obliged to leave them for a short time, they greeted her return with merry shouts. She was advanced in years, and the hair that peeped from under the folds of her turban was very gray. But she was remarkably strong for her age, straight in her figure, and quick in her motions. She was very expert at catching fish, and sometimes spent half the day in the water. She also made excellent nets to catch shad and herring; and, as these nets sold extremely well, Captain Anthony still found the old slave profitable. She had the name of being born to good luck, because whatever business she undertook prospered in her hands. She raised such excellent sweet potatoes that people often sent for her to plant for them, saying, "If Gran'ma Betty touches them they'll be sure to flourish." But the secret of her good luck was her intelligence and carefulness. When she dug potatoes she took pains not to cut or bruise them; and in winter she protected them from frost in a hole under her hearth.

Freddy's poor mother was not allowed the comfort of being with her child. She was let out to work in the fields, twelve miles off. Whenever she went to see her little boy she had to walk over all those miles twice in the night-time, after a hard day's work; for if she was not back in the field by sunrise she was severely whipped. Freddy saw her but four or five times, and never by daylight. Sometimes she would lie down beside him and talk to him till he fell asleep, but when he woke she was always gone. He always remembered that she once took him on her knee and gave him a cake in the shape of a heart. Her rare visits made such an impression on him that he never forgot her personal appearance.

She was tall and finely proportioned, with regular features and a deep black glossy complexion. Her manners were very sedate, her countenance downcast, and her eyes very sad. When he was nearly seven years old she died; but he knew nothing about it till long afterward. In later years he heard that she could read, and that she was the only one of all the slaves in the neighborhood who possessed that advantage. He never discovered how she had learned. When she died he was too young to have heard anything from her lips concerning his father. He was always told that he was the son of a white man, and some whispered the name of his master. But he never knew who was his father, and could only conjecture why the eyes of his poor mother had such a sad expression.

Captain Anthony did not carry on any of his own farms. He employed overseers for that purpose; and however cruelly the slaves might be treated by the overseers, they never could obtain any protection by applying to the "old master," as they called him. All the interest he took in them was to have as much work as possible forced out of them, and to sell one every year to add to his income. He himself managed the affairs of Colonel Lloyd, a wealthy gentleman with numerous plantations and a thousand slaves. His home-plantation, on the river Miles, where he resided with his family, was about twelve miles from the hut where Frederick had been nursed. His manager, Captain Anthony, lived in a house on the same plantation, and was personally a stranger to his own little slaves. But the children had seen and heard of things which made the name of the "old master" a terror to them. Frederick's first great trouble was when he discovered that he was a slave, and that, as soon as he was big enough to work, he would have to go to "old master." Nothing could exceed his dread of leaving the dear old home, and being separated from the kind friend of his childhood. When he was about eight years old, Captain Anthony sent for him; but his grandmother kept it a secret, knowing how it would frighten him. One bright summer morning she told him she was going to Colonel Lloyd's plantation, and invited him to go with her. He had a curiosity to see the grand place of which he had heard so much; so she took him by the hand and led him away from the happy home of his childhood, to which he never returned. She carefully concealed from him how her heart was swelling, and her tender ways did not lead him to suspect it. When the unconscious little boy began to be overcome with fatigue she "toted" him on her strong shoulders. She scarcely seemed to feel the burden, and insisted upon carrying him a long way; but he felt too much of a man to permit it. He was, however, a little afraid as they walked through the thick, dark woods; for sometimes the old knotted and gnarled stumps, when seen from a distance, looked like creatures with eyes and legs; and he kept a tight hold of her gown till the monstrous things were safely pa.s.sed.

It was afternoon before they reached the famous Home Plantation of Colonel Lloyd. There he found everything very different from the solitude and poverty to which he had been accustomed. The plantation seemed like a village, there were so many large houses, and stables, and out-buildings, and mechanics' shops, and such a long row of huts for the "slaves' quarters." Children were shouting and singing, and a great many men and women were hoeing in the fields. The children came crowding round Frederick, and asked him to go and play with them. He looked in his grandmother's face, and seeing that she seemed very sad, he begun to suspect that he was going to live with the "old master." He was unwilling to lose sight of her for a moment; but she patted him on the head, and said, "Be a good boy, and go and play with the children. That one is your brother Perry, that is your sister Sarah, and that is your sister Eliza." He had heard of these brothers and sisters before, but he had never seen them, and they seemed like strangers. He kept close to his grandmother; but at last she persuaded him to follow the children to the back part of the house. He felt so shy that he stood leaning against the wall, looking on, while the others played. After a while, a little boy, who had been left in the kitchen, ran up to him, exclaiming, "Fed!

Fed! Grandmammy's gone!" He rushed after her, and when he found that she was gone far out of sight, he threw himself on the ground and sobbed.

His brother and sisters brought him peaches and pears, but he flung them away, and continued sobbing, till, overcome with sorrow and fatigue, he fell into a deep sleep.

As Colonel Lloyd's plantation was not near any town, the barrels, wheels, shoes, and cloth that were needed by the numerous slaves were manufactured by themselves. Large crops of grain and tobacco were raised and shipped for Baltimore. All the business of twenty or thirty other farms was transacted at this plantation, which was distinguished by the name of "The Great House Farm"; and as Captain Anthony was overseer of all the overseers, he was kept very busy all the time. He took no notice of Freddy at first, but when told who the newcomer was, he patted him on the head and said, "You are my little Indian boy." Occasionally when he met him he would speak affectionately to him; but he was a violent-tempered man, and Freddy soon learned to watch him closely when he saw him coming. If he was shaking his head or muttering to himself, he hastened to get out of his way, lest he should catch a blow without knowing what it was for. The slave children had no one to care for them but cross Katy, the cook, who cuffed them about, and kept all, except her own children, in such a half-starved condition, that Freddy often had a tussle with the dogs and cats for the bones that were thrown to them. Summer and winter, they had no clothing but a coa.r.s.e tow shirt that reached to the knees. They were provided with two a year; and if they wore out before allowance-day came round, they went naked. They slept anywhere on the floor without covering. Freddy suffered much from cold. His naked feet were cracked open in great gashes in the winter.

When he could get a chance, he would creep into the meal-bag at night.

So much for the care taken of their bodies; and it fared no better with their souls. All the instruction they received was from Uncle Isaac, a crippled slave, who, being unable to work, taught the children to say the Lord's Prayer after him by rote, and switched them whenever they made a mistake.

But Freddy was at an age to bear privations and troubles lightly, and to enjoy thoughtlessly whatever pleasant things came in his way. He had never seen anything so grand as The Great House, in which Colonel Lloyd resided. It was a large white building, with piazza and columns in front, surrounded by arbors, and grain-houses, and turkey-houses, and pigeon-houses, interspersed with grand old trees. There was an extensive lawn, kept as smooth as velvet, and ornamented with flowering shrubs.

The carriage-road to and from the house made a circle round the lawn, and was paved with white pebbles from the beach. Outside of this enclosed s.p.a.ce were extensive parks, where rabbits, deer, and other wild animals frisked about. Flocks of red-winged blackbirds made the trees look gay, and filled the air with melody. Vessels on their way to Baltimore were continually in sight, and a sloop belonging to Colonel Lloyd lay in the river, with its pretty little boat bobbing about in the sparkling water. There was a windmill not far off, and the little slaves were never tired of watching the great wings go whirling round. There was a creek to swim in, and crabs and clams and oysters to be got by wading and digging and raking for them. Freddy was glad enough to catch them when he had a chance, for he never had half enough to eat. He had one friend at The Great House. Daniel Lloyd, the Colonel's youngest son, liked to have him a.s.sist in his sports. He protected him when bigger boys wanted to make war upon him, and sometimes he gave him a cake. Captain Anthony's family consisted of a son, Andrew, and a daughter, Lucretia, who had married Captain Thomas Auld. Mrs. Lucretia took a fancy to bright little Freddy. She liked to hear him sing, and often spoke a kind word to him. This emboldened him so much, that when he was very hungry he would go and sing under the window where she sat at work, and she would generally give him a piece of bread, sometimes with b.u.t.ter on it. That was a great treat for a boy who was fed all the time on corn mush, and could not get half enough of that. His business was to clean the front yard, to keep fowls out of the garden, to drive the cows home from pasture, and to run of errands. He had a good deal of time to play with his little relatives, and with the young slaves at Colonel Lloyd's, who called him "Captain Anthony Fed." He was such a mere boy, that it is no wonder so many new people and things soon cured him of homesickness for his grandmother, who could very seldom get time to trudge twelve miles to see him.

But though his slave-life was not without gleams of enjoyment, he saw and heard much that was painful. At one time he would see Colonel Lloyd compel a faithful old slave get down upon his knees to be flogged for not keeping the hair of his horses sufficiently smooth. At another time, the overseer would shoot a slave dead for refusing to come up to be whipped. Ever and anon some of them were sold to Georgia slave-traders, and there was weeping and wailing in the families they left behind. On the premises of his own master, he was not unfrequently wakened in the night by the screams and groans of slaves who were being lashed. One of Captain Anthony's slaves, named Esther, was the sister of Freddy's mother. She had a pretty face and a graceful shape. She and a handsome young slave of Colonel Lloyd's were much attached, and wished to marry.

But her old master, for reasons of his own, forbade her to see her lover, and if he suspected them of meeting he would abuse the poor girl in a most shocking manner. Freddy was too young at the time to understand the full significance of this cruel treatment; but when he thought of it in after years, it explained to him why his poor mother had always looked so downcast and sad. As for himself, he managed to escape very severe punishment, though Captain Anthony not unfrequently whipped him for some carelessness or mischief. But when he saw the plantation-laborers, even of so rich a man as Colonel Lloyd, driven out to toil from early morning to dusk, shivering in the cold winds, or dripping with rain, with no covering but a few coa.r.s.e tow rags, he could not help thinking that such was likely to be his fate when he was older.

Young as he was, he had a great dread of being a field-hand. Therefore he was rejoiced when Mrs. Lucretia told him he was to be sent to Baltimore, to live with her husband's brother, Mr. Hugh Auld. She told him if he would make himself very clean, she would give him a pair of new trousers. The prospect of exchanging his little tow shirt for new trousers delighted him so much that he was ready to scrub his skin off to obtain them. He was, moreover, very eager to see Baltimore; for slaves who had been there told fine stories about the grand houses and the mult.i.tude of ships. He had been only two years at Captain Anthony's, and he had formed no attachment so strong as that he had felt for his old grandmother. It was with a joyful heart that he went forth to view the wonders of the city. When he arrived in Baltimore, his new mistress met him at the door with a pleasant smile. She said to her son, "There's little Freddy, who has come to take care of you"; and to him she said, "You must be kind to little Tommy." Mrs. Sophia Auld had earned her own living before her marriage, and she had not yet acquired the ways of slaveholders toward servants. While her own little Tommy was on her knee, Freddy was often seated by her side, and sometimes her soft hand would rest upon his head in a kind, motherly way. He had never been treated so since he left his good old grandmother. In a very short time he loved her with all his heart, and was eager to do anything to please her. It was his business to go of errands and take care of Tommy. The boys became as much attached to each other as if they were brothers.