 | Incidents in the life of a slave girl |  |
XXXIV.
THE OLD ENEMY AGAIN.
My young mistress, Miss Emily Flint, did not return
any answer to my letter requesting her to consent
to my being sold. But after a while, I received a reply,
which purported to be written by her younger brother.
In order rightly to enjoy the contents of this letter, the
reader must bear in mind that the Flint family supposed
I had been at the north many years. They had
no idea that I knew of the doctor's three excursions
to New York in search of me; that I had heard his
voice, when he came to borrow five hundred dollars
for that purpose; and that I had seen him pass on his
way to the steamboat. Neither were they aware that
all the particulars of aunt Nancy's death and burial
were conveyed to me at the time they occurred. I
have kept the letter, of which I herewith subjoin a
copy: —
“Your letter to sister was received a few days ago.
I gather from it that you are desirous of returning to
your native place, among your friends and relatives.
We were all gratified with the contents of your letter;
and let me assure you that if any members of the
family have had any feeling of resentment towards you,
they feel it no longer. We all sympathize with you in
your unfortunate condition, and are ready to do all in
our power to make you contented and happy. It is
difficult for you to return home as a free person. If
whether you would be permitted to remain, although
it would be lawful for you to do so. If a servant should
be allowed to purchase herself, after absenting herself
so long from her owners, and return free, it would
have an injurious effect. From your letter, I think
your situation must be hard and uncomfortable. Come
home. You have it in your power to be reinstated in
our affections. We would receive you with open arms
and tears of joy. You need not apprehend any unkind
treatment, as we have not put ourselves to any
trouble or expense to get you. Had we done so,
perhaps we should feel otherwise. You know my sister
was always attached to you, and that you were
never treated as a slave. You were never put to hard
work, nor exposed to field labor. On the contrary, you
were taken into the house, and treated as one of us,
and almost as free; and we, at least, felt that you were
above disgracing yourself by running away. Believing
you may be induced to come home voluntarily has induced
me to write for my sister. The family will be
rejoiced to see you; and your poor old grandmother
expressed a great desire to have you come, when she
heard your letter read. In her old age she needs the
consolation of having her children round her. Doubtless
you have heard of the death of your aunt. She
was a faithful servant, and a faithful member of the
Episcopal church. In her Christian life she taught us
how to live — and, O, too high the price of knowledge,
she taught us how to die! Could you have seen
us round her death bed, with her mother, all mingling
our tears in one common stream, you would have
and his servant, as between a mother and her child.
But this subject is too painful to dwell upon. I must
bring my letter to a close. If you are contented to stay
away from your old grandmother, your child, and the
friends who love you, stay where you are. We shall
never trouble ourselves to apprehend you. But should
you prefer to come home, we will do all that we can to
make you happy. If you do not wish to remain in the
family, I know that father, by our persuasion, will be
induced to let you be purchased by any person you
may choose in our community. You will please answer
this as soon as possible, and let us know your
decision. Sister sends much love to you. In the
mean time believe me your sincere friend and well
wisher.”
This letter was signed by Emily's brother, who was
as yet a mere lad. I knew, by the style, that it was
not written by a person of his age, and though the
writing was disguised, I had been made too unhappy by
it, in former years, not to recognize at once the hand
of Dr. Flint. O, the hypocrisy of slaveholders! Did
the old fox suppose I was goose enough to go into such
a trap? Verily, he relied too much on “the stupidity
of the African race.” I did not return the family of
Flints any thanks for their cordial invitation — a remissness
for which I was, no doubt, charged with base
ingratitude.
Not long afterwards I received a letter from one of
my friends at the south, informing me that Dr. Flint
was about to visit the north. The letter had been
delayed, and I supposed he might be already on the
told her that important business called me to Boston,
where my brother then was, and asked permission to
bring a friend to supply my place as nurse, for a fortnight.
I started on my journey immediately; and as
soon as I arrived, I wrote to my grandmother that if
Benny came, he must be sent to Boston. I knew she
was only waiting for a good chance to send him north,
and, fortunately, she had the legal power to do so, without
asking leave of any body. She was a free woman;
and when my children were purchased, Mr. Sands preferred
to have the bill of sale drawn up in her name.
It was conjectured that he advanced the money, but it
was not known. At the south, a gentleman may have
a shoal of colored children without any disgrace; but
if he is known to purchase them, with the view of setting
them free, the example is thought to be dangerous
to their “peculiar institution,” and he becomes unpopular.
There was a good opportunity to send Benny in a
vessel coming directly to New York. He was put on
board with a letter to a friend, who was requested to
see him off to Boston. Early one morning, there was
a loud rap at my door, and in rushed Benjamin, all
out of breath. “O mother!” he exclaimed, “here
I am! I run all the way; and I come all alone. How
d'you do?”
O reader, can you imagine my joy? No, you cannot,
unless you have been a slave mother. Benjamin
rattled away as fast as his tongue could go. “Mother,
why don't you bring Ellen here? I went over to
Brooklyn to see her, and she felt very bad when I bid
too.' I thought she'd know ever so much; but she
don't know so much as I do; for I can read, and she
can't. And, mother, I lost all my clothes coming.
What can I do to get some more? I 'spose free boys
can get along here at the north as well as white boys.”
I did not like to tell the sanguine, happy little fellow
how much he was mistaken. I took him to a
tailor, and procured a change of clothes. The rest
of the day was spent in mutual asking and answering
of questions, with the wish constantly repeated that
the good old grandmother was with us, and frequent
injunctions from Benny to write to her immediately,
and be sure to tell her every thing about his voyage,
and his journey to Boston.
Dr. Flint made his visit to New York, and made
every exertion to call upon me, and invite me to return
with him; but not being able to ascertain where I was,
his hospitable intentions were frustrated, and the affectionate
family, who were waiting for me with “open
arms,” were doomed to disappointment.
As soon as I knew he was safely at home, I placed
Benjamin in the care of my brother William, and returned
to Mrs. Bruce. There I remained through the
winter and spring, endeavoring to perform my duties
faithfully, and finding a good degree of happiness in
the attractions of baby Mary, the considerate kindness
of her excellent mother, and occasional interviews
with my darling daughter.
But when summer came, the old feeling of insecurity
haunted me. It was necessary for me to take
little Mary out daily, for exercise and fresh air, and
whom might recognize me. Hot weather brings out
snakes and slaveholders, and I like one class of the
venomous creatures as little as I do the other. What
a comfort it is, to be free to say so!
| Incidents in the life of a slave girl | |