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University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection[X]
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1Author:  Carkin PhilenaAdd
 Title:  Reminiscences of Philena Carkin  
 Published:  2005 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text 
 Description: During the first and second years of my work in Charlottesville we had occasional visits from a Mr. Frost who was, I think, located at Gordonsville. I have no numbers of the Freedmens Record for 1866, and do not remember what position he held under the Society in Boston, but I think he had some kind of supervision over the schools in that vicinity. I recall that our supplies of books etc came through him. It was only for a short time that he was in any way connected with our schools. I never saw her but once. She was a tall, finely formed, handsome woman — I think a quadroon. The most noticeable feature about her was the weary look of sadness in her large brown eyes. My friend who was with me when we had occasion to meet her on a matter of business knew her story which she related, substantially as follows. Joanna was unlike Margaret. She had so little of the negro blood in her veins that no one would have suspected she was not pure white. Her master was a wealthy plantation owner, who had so many slaves that half of them could pass him by unrecognized — a not uncommon circumstance on large plantations, I imagine. As far as I know Joanna was comfortable and happy enough in her life on the plantation. She probably had enough to eat, and was kindly treated according to the code of slavery. But one day she found herself in a new position as regards the life of a slave woman. She had become a mother. She had heretofore felt but little anxiety about herself and her own future, but what about her child? She knew that little children were often sold from their mothers at a tender age. It was not uncommon on her masters plantation. What should she do? How prevent this dreadful possibility? For weeks and months she was haunted by the horrible fear that some day her child would be taken from her until at last her mind was made up to escape from slavery by running away. I do not know how she got away from her masters plantation with her child unsuspected, but she succeeded in reaching the railway station some miles distant without any trouble. There one of the first persons she saw was her master. He did not recognize her as his chattel or even as a colored woman. He saw in her He saw in her only a young lady travelling without an attendant, and encumbered with an infant, so he kindly assisted her upon the train, found her a seat, and performed such other acts of courtesy as his chivalrous nature suggested, then left her undisturbed to pursue her journey North. Whether he ever learned that he had assisted one of his own slaves to escape I do not know. The following anecdote will serve to show that chivalry, which the southern white man has so long claimed as a trait peculiar to himself, may sometimes be found among the humblest of Gods children. She was a dressmaker — a quiet, hard working woman, with a very small amount of negro blood in her veins, being in fact so nearly white that one would hardly suspect she had any. She sent at different times all of her children to my school — four boys and a girl. The father of these children was a prominent white citizen of the place, and none of the boys showed any trace of color, having fair skins and light, straight hair. The little girl was somewhat darker with a slightly yellow tinge in her complexion. This was all that hinted of her African descent. Arriving in Charlottesville last Friday I found your letter and now acknowledge its receipt with many thanks. Although I date my letters from this place Charlottesville is still my home — Keswick is my express office. Words of mine cannot express the obligations I am under to you for the letter sent me in April. I have been tardy in answering, as I wished I wished to gather some information which I knew would interest you. I feel sure you will do your best in the matter of the books so I will proceed to give you an idea of the changes in Charlottesville and its surroundings I am unable to find words to express my gratitude for the letters you are so kind as to write to me. Please to accept my thanks for your interest in my school. I will endeavor to give you a description of it. We are situated about 10 miles east of Charlottesville, on the old "Richmond Turnpike," and have a neat house. The ground (one acre) was furnished by the patrons, and the School Board put up the house for us, after we had got half the lumber and paid for hauling all the materials used. We got the lumber by each patron giving so many pine trees on the stump, and so determined were they all to have the house that a number of the larger boys would go into the woods, and fell and cut up a tree preparatory to sending it to the saw mill. Our white friends aided us by lending teams etc. I am afraid you are being annoyed by our constant expression of thanks for what you have done for us. I assure you it is no small thing, and we appreciate it very highly. Since your wishes must be respected the pupils have decided to call it the "F. B. Sanborn Library" though they wished very much to call it by your name. Now I wish to ask your perusal of the accompanying little letter, written, without my knowledge by our little secretary who is only ten years this coming June. Her father is a prosperous blacksmith and is, apparantly one of the latest importations from Africa he is so very black and ignorant. This child was in her "letters" as they say less than four years ago (our school year consists of seven months) and now reads in the 5th Reader. I send you the childs letter because it seems to be the outpouring of of the heart. Hoping you will kindly think of us and with kind wishes for your happiness from many here. I will spend this pleasant afternoon in writing to one I have never seen but I have often heard my teacher speak of you and read letters from you to us, and talk of you as being his teacher. We are strangers but that matters but a little. I can write to you with just as much love as to any of my friends. We received your box and all were very proud of it indeed, and all my schoolmates thank you and your friends for your kindness. They are such nice books and make such a respectable little Library — just what we had talked about a long while and O, if you could just see if now it looks so beautiful! You said you didn't care to have it named after you, but we had no other name that we thought would suit so nicely as yours, and the scholars all seem to love that so well that we were compelled to name it the P. Carkin Free Library My Dear Friend and Teacher. It is a long, long time since you were here, and I've been thinking for several years of writing to see if you were still numbered with the living, but have kept putting it off from time to time until I've made it very late, but I hope not too late. Your letter of the 10th inst was duly received. It found us well, and indeed, more than glad to hear from you. I am sorry to know that your sight has gotten so poor, but my prayer is that it may not grow much worse for years to come. I was glad and thankful to receive the picture of the "Minute Man" I remember so distinctly about your telling, and trying to have us understand about them years ago. And not only that, but you told and read to us so much that I recall and which has since become real to me, that I have often wished that I could see you, and make some apology for my ignorance and ingratitude, for then it was meaningless to me, and as with me, so I presume it was to a greater or less extent with the others. But much of the ignorance, inexperience and darkness that met you here, have disappeared, and it is beginning to look like a real dispensation of freedom in which every one has some sort of a chance in the race of life. "The old building where you taught has long since been torn away and all that part of the town is laid out in streets and thickly settled It would be hard for you to tell where the old school house stood. The new school house is farther down, near the Court House. If you remember where the gas house was, it is on the same street. x x x I should be glad if you could see this place again and witness the strides the colored people have made from barbarism to civilization. I did not think to tell you in my last, that they own and publish one newspaper in Charlottesville x x x I will tell you my age as well as I can. I call myself 54. The farm house where I was born was burned in May 1865, and with it all the records. My mother, a short time before her death, took me with her to the old place to get our ages, and what they gave us was all guess work. I was born in January 1855 or 1856 Mother knew it was three weeks after Christmas. That was all she knew about it. I am still vigorous and can do more work at almost anything than the average man." I had sent Mr. Minor some pamphlets of the Humane Society and asked him if there was anything of the kind yet in Charlottesville. To which he replied as follows. "No, they have nothing like a humane society any where in Virginia that I ever heard of certainly not in Charlottesville or in Albemarle County I hope to see a "Red Acre Farm" here in our state some day. At present worn out horses as well as worn out men fare tolerably rough. There is nothing like a "Rescue League" These things have not been thought of yet x x x x "No, they have nothing like a humane society any where in Virginia that I ever heard of certainly not in Charlottesville or in Albemarle County I hope to see a "Red Acre Farm" here in our state some day. At present worn out horses as well as worn out men fare tolerably rough. There is nothing like a "Rescue League" These things have not been thought of yet x x x x Your last letter of Sept 16th was duly received. We were glad to hear from you and to learn of the many helpful Societies among you. I thank you very much for the "horses prayer." Some horses do need to say it daily, but I am thankful to say mine have not said it this winter though the winter has been long and severe, interspersed with a day or two of mild weather now and then. x x x x I am quite busy preparing for my crops, and at present the prospects before me are quite bright. I have a great deal more work than I can do but and cannot afford to hire help but am doing very well alone, and when school closes in April Mabel and Irene will help me a little.
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