 | Incidents in the life of a slave girl |  |
VII.
THE LOVER.
Why does the slave ever love? Why allow the tendrils
of the heart to twine around objects which may
at any moment be wrenched away by the hand of violence?
When separations come by the hand of death,
the pious soul can bow in resignation, and say, “Not
my will, but thine be done, O Lord!” But when the
ruthless hand of man strikes the blow, regardless of
the misery he causes, it is hard to be submissive. I
did not reason thus when I was a young girl. Youth
will be youth. I loved, and I indulged the hope that
the dark clouds around me would turn out a bright
lining. I forgot that in the land of my birth the
shadows are too dense for light to penetrate. A land
Nor words a language; nor e'en men mankind.
Where cries reply to curses, shrieks to blows,
And each is tortured in his separate hell.”
There was in the neighborhood a young colored carpenter;
a free born man. We had been well acquainted
in childhood, and frequently met together
afterwards. We became mutually attached, and he
proposed to marry me. I loved him with all the ardor
of a young girl's first love. But when I reflected that
I was a slave, and that the laws gave no sanction to
the marriage of such, my heart sank within me. My
lover wanted to buy me; but I knew that Dr. Flint
arrangement. From him, I was sure of experiencing
all sorts of opposition, and I had nothing to hope
from my mistress. She would have been delighted to
have got rid of me, but not in that way. It would
have relieved her mind of a burden if she could have
seen me sold to some distant state, but if I was married
near home I should be just as much in her husband's
power as I had previously been, — for the husband of a
slave has no power to protect her. Moreover, my mistress,
like many others, seemed to think that slaves had
no right to any family ties of their own; that they
were created merely to wait upon the family of the
mistress. I once heard her abuse a young slave girl,
who told her that a colored man wanted to make her
his wife. “I will have you peeled and pickled, my
lady,” said she, “if I ever hear you mention that subject
again. Do you suppose that I will have you tending
my children with the children of that nigger?”
The girl to whom she said this had a mulatto child,
of course not acknowledged by its father. The poor
black man who loved her would have been proud to
acknowledge his helpless offspring.
Many and anxious were the thoughts I revolved in
my mind. I was at a loss what to do. Above all
things, I was desirous to spare my lover the insults
that had cut so deeply into my own soul. I talked with
my grandmother about it, and partly told her my fears.
I did not dare to tell her the worst. She had long
suspected all was not right, and if I confirmed her suspicions
I knew a storm would rise that would prove
the overthrow of all my hopes.
This love-dream had been my support through many
trials; and I could not bear to run the risk of having
it suddenly dissipated. There was a lady in the neighborhood,
a particular friend of Dr. Flint's, who often
visited the house. I had a great respect for her, and
she had always manifested a friendly interest in me.
Grandmother thought she would have great influence
with the doctor. I went to this lady, and told her my
story. I told her I was aware that my lover's being a
free-born man would prove a great objection; but he
wanted to buy me; and if Dr. Flint would consent to
that arrangement, I felt sure he would be willing
to pay any reasonable price. She knew that Mrs. Flint
disliked me; therefore, I ventured to suggest that perhaps
my mistress would approve of my being sold, as
that would rid her of me. The lady listened with
kindly sympathy, and promised to do her utmost to
promote my wishes. She had an interview with the
doctor, and I believe she pleaded my cause earnestly;
but it was all to no purpose.
How I dreaded my master now! Every minute I
expected to be summoned to his presence; but the day
passed, and I heard nothing from him. The next
morning, a message was brought to me: “Master
wants you in his study.” I found the door ajar, and
I stood a moment gazing at the hateful man who
claimed a right to rule me, body and soul. I entered,
and tried to appear calm. I did not want him to
know how my heart was bleeding. He looked fixedly
at me, with an expression which seemed to say, “I
have half a mind to kill you on the spot.” At last
he broke the silence, and that was a relief to both of us.
“So you want to be married, do you?” said he,
“and to a free nigger.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, I'll soon convince you whether, I am your
master, or the nigger fellow you honor so highly. If
you must have a husband, you may take up with one
of my slaves.”
What a situation I should be in, as the wife of one
of his slaves, even if my heart had been interested!
I replied, “Don't you suppose, sir, that a slave can
have some preference about marrying? Do you suppose
that all men are alike to her?”
“Do you love this nigger?” said he, abruptly.
“Yes, sir.”
“How dare you tell me so!” he exclaimed, in great
wrath. After a slight pause, he added, “I supposed
you thought more of yourself; that you felt above the
insults of such puppies.”
“I replied, “If he is a puppy I am a puppy, for
we are both of the negro race. It is right and honorable
for us to love each other. The man you call a
puppy never insulted me, sir; and he would not love
me if he did not believe me to be a virtuous woman.”
He sprang upon me like a tiger, and gave me a
stunning blow. It was the first time he had ever
struck me; and fear did not enable me to control my
anger. When I had recovered a little from the effects,
I exclaimed, “You have struck me for answering you
honestly. How I despise you!”
There was silence for some minutes. Perhaps he
was deciding what should be my punishment; or, perhaps,
he wanted to give me time to reflect on what I
asked, “Do you know what you have said?”
“Yes, sir; but your treatment drove me to it.”
“Do you know that I have a right to do as I like
with you, — that I can kill you, if I please?”
“You have tried to kill me, and I wish you had;
but you have no right to do as you like with me.”
“Silence!” he exclaimed, in a thundering voice.
“By heavens, girl, you forget yourself too far! Are
you mad? If you are, I will soon bring you to your
senses. Do you think any other master would bear
what I have borne from you this morning? Many
masters would have killed you on the spot. How
would you like to be sent to jail for your insolence?”
“I know I have been disrespectful, sir,” I replied;
“but you drove me to it; I couldn't help it. As for
the jail, there would be more peace for me there than
there is here.”
“You deserve to go there,” said he, “and to be
under such treatment, that you would forget the meaning
of the word peace. It would do you good. It
would take some of your high notions out of you.
But I am not ready to send you there yet, notwithstanding
your ingratitude for all my kindness and forbearance.
You have been the plague of my life. I
have wanted to make you happy, and I have been repaid
with the basest ingratitude; but though you have
proved yourself incapable of appreciating my kindness,
I will be lenient towards you, Linda. I will give
you one more chance to redeem your character. If
you behave yourself and do as I require, I will forgive
you and treat you as I always have done; but if you
slave on my plantation. Never let me hear that fellow's
name mentioned again. If I ever know of your
speaking to him, I will cowhide you both; and if
I catch him lurking about my premises, I will shoot
him as soon as I would a dog. Do you hear what I
say? I'll teach you a lesson about marriage and free
niggers! Now go, and let this be the last time I have
occasion to speak to you on this subject.”
Reader, did you ever hate? I hope not. I never
did but once; and I trust I never shall again. Somebody
has called it “the atmosphere of hell;” and I
believe it is so.
For a fortnight the doctor did not speak to me. He
thought to mortify me; to make me feel that I had
disgraced myself by receiving the honorable addresses
of a respectable colored man, in preference to the base
proposals of a white man. But though his lips disdained
to address me, his eyes were very loquacious.
No animal ever watched its prey more narrowly than
he watched me. He knew that I could write, though
he had failed to make me read his letters; and he was
now troubled lest I should exchange letters with
another man. After a while he became weary of
silence; and I was sorry for it. One morning, as he
passed through the hall, to leave the house, he contrived
to thrust a note into my hand. I thought I had
better read it, and spare myself the vexation of having
him read it to me. It expressed regret for the blow
he had given me, and reminded me that I myself was
wholly to blame for it. He hoped I had become convinced
of the injury I was doing myself by incurring
mind to go to Louisiana; that he should take several
slaves with him, and intended I should be one of the
number. My mistress would remain where she was;
therefore I should have nothing to fear from that
quarter. If I merited kindness from him, he assured
me that it would be lavishly bestowed. He begged me
to think over the matter, and answer the following day.
The next morning I was called to carry a pair of
scissors to his room. I laid them on the table, with
the letter beside them. He thought it was my answer,
and did not call me back. I went as usual to attend
my young mistress to and from school. He met me
in the street, and ordered me to stop at his office on
my way back. When I entered, he showed me his
letter, and asked me why I had not answered it. I
replied, “I am your daughter's property, and it is in
your power to send me, or take me, wherever you
please.” He said he was very glad to find me so willing
to go, and that we should start early in the autumn.
He had a large practice in the town, and I rather
thought he had made up the story merely to frighten
me. However that might be, I was determined that I
would never go to Louisiana with him.
Summer passed away, and early in the autumn Dr.
Flint's eldest son was sent to Louisiana to examine the
country, with a view of emigrating. That news did not
disturb me. I knew very well that I should not be sent
with him. That I had not been taken to the plantation
before this time, was owing to the fact that his
son was there. He was jealous of his son; and jealousy
of the overseer had kept him from punishing me by
I was not proud of these protectors? As for the overseer,
he was a man for whom I had less respect than I
had for a bloodhound.
Young Mr. Flint did not bring back a favorable report
of Louisiana, and I heard no more of that scheme.
Soon after this, my lover met me at the corner of the
street, and I stopped to speak to him. Looking up, I
saw my master watching us from his window. I
hurried home, trembling with fear. I was sent for, immediately,
to go to his room. He met me with a blow.
“When is mistress to be married?” said he, in a
sneering tone. A shower of oaths and imprecations
followed. How thankful I was that my lover was a
free man! that my tyrant had no power to flog him
for speaking to me in the street!
Again and again I revolved in my mind how all this
would end. There was no hope that the doctor would
consent to sell me on any terms. He had an iron
will, and was determined to keep me, and to conquer
me. My lover was an intelligent and religious
man. Even if he could have obtained permission to
marry me while I was a slave, the marriage would
give him no power to protect me from my master. It
would have made him miserable to witness the insults
I should have been subjected to. And then, if
we had children, I knew they must “follow the condition
of the mother.” What a terrible blight that
would be on the heart of a free, intelligent father!
For his sake, I felt that I ought not to link his fate with
my own unhappy destiny. He was going to Savannah to
see about a little property left him by an uncle; and
entreated him not to come back. I advised him to go
to the Free States, where his tongue would not be tied,
and where his intelligence would be of more avail to
him. He left me, still hoping the day would come
when I could be bought. With me the lamp of hope
had gone out. The dream of my girlhood was over.
I felt lonely and desolate.
Still I was not stripped of all. I still had my good
grandmother, and my affectionate brother. When he
put his arms round my neck, and looked into my eyes,
as if to read there the troubles I dared not tell, I felt
that I still had something to love. But even that
pleasant emotion was chilled by the reflection that he
might be torn from me at any moment, by some sudden
freak of my master. If he had known how we
loved each other, I think he would have exulted in
separating us. We often planned together how we
could get to the north. But, as William remarked,
such things are easier said than done. My movements
were very closely watched, and we had no means of
getting any money to defray our expenses. As for
grandmother, she was strongly opposed to her children's
undertaking any such project. She had not forgotten
poor Benjamin's sufferings, and she was afraid
that if another child tried to escape, he would have a
similar or a worse fate. To me, nothing seemed more
dreadful than my present life. I said to myself,
“William must be free. He shall go to the north, and
I will follow him.” Many a slave sister has formed
the same plans.
| Incidents in the life of a slave girl | |