| | 1 | Author: | Carkin
Philena | Add | | | 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. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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