University of Virginia Library

CHAPTER 18 Fleeting Shadows

In high spirits Henry left the plantation of Latuer, after sowing seeds from which in due season, he anticipated an abundant harvest. He found the old man Nathan all that could be desired, and equal to the task of propagating the scheme. His soul swelled with exultation on receiving the tidings, declaring that though nearly eighty years of age, he never felt before an implied meaning, in the promise of the Lord.

“Now Laud!” with uplifted hand exclaimed he at the conclusion of the interview. “My eyes has seen, and meh yeahs heahn, an' now Laud! I's willin' to stan' still an' see dy salvation!”

On went Henry to Metoyers, visiting the places of four brothers, having taken those of the white planters intervening, all without detection or suspicion of being a stranger.

Stopping among the people of Colonel Hopkins at Grantico summit, here as at Latuer's and all intermediate places, he found the people

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patiently looking for a promised redemption. Here a pet female slave, Silva, espied him and gave the alarm that a strange black was lurking among the Negro quarters, which compelled him to retirement sooner than intended.

Among the people of Dickson at Pine Bluff, he found the best of spirits. There was Newman, a young slave man born without arms, who was ready any moment for a strike.

“How could you fight?” said Henry. “You have no arms!”

“I am compelled to pick with my toes, a hundred pound of cotton a day,* and I can sit on a stool and touch off a cannon!” said this promising young man whose heart panted with an unsuppressed throb for liberty.

Heeley's, Harrison's, and Hickman's slaves were fearfully and pitiably dejected. Much effort was required to effect a seclusion, and more to stimulate them to action. The continual dread “that maus wont let us!” seemed as immovably fixed as the words were constantly repeated; and it was not until an occasion for another subject of inquest, in the person of a pest of an old black slave man, that an organization was effected.

Approaching Crane's on Little River, the slaves were returning from the field to the gin. Many — being females, some of whom were very handsome — had just emptied their baskets. So little clothing had they, and so loosely hung the tattered fragments about them, that they covered themselves behind the large empty baskets tilted over on the side, to shield their person from exposure.

The overseer engaged in another direction, the master absent, and the family at the great house, a good opportunity presented for an inspection of affairs.

“How do you do, young woman?” saluted Henry.

“How de do, sir!” replied a sprightly, comely young mulatto girl, who stood behind her basket with not three yards of cloth in the tattered relic of the only garment she had on.

“Who owns this place?”

“Mr. Crane, sir,” she politely replied with a smile.

“How many slaves has he?”

“I don'o, some say five 'a six hunded.”

“Do they all work on this place?”

“No, sir, he got two-three places.”

“How many on this place?”

“Oveh a hundred an' fifty.”

“What allowances have you?”

“None, sir.”

“What! no Saturday to yourselves?”

“No, sir.”

“They allow you Sundays, I suppose.”

“No, sir, we work all day ev'ry Sunday.”

“How late do you work?”

“Till we can' see to pick no mo' cotton; but w'en its moon light we pick till ten o'clock at night.”

“What time do you get to wash your clothes?”

“None, sir; da on'y 'low us one suit ev'ry New Yehs day,* an' us gals take it off every Satady night aftah de men all gone to bed and wash it fah Sunday.”

“Why do you want clean clothes on Sunday, if you have to work on that day?”

“It's de Laud's day, an' we wa to be clean, and we feel betteh.”

“How do the men do for clean clothes?”

“We wash de men's clothes afteh da go to bed.”

“And you say you are only allowed one suit a year? Now, young woman, I don't know your name but — — ”

“Nancy, sir.”

“Well, Nancy, speak plainly, and dont be backward; what does your one suit consist of?”

“A frock, sir, made out er coarse tow linen.”

“Only one piece, and no underclothes at all?”

“Dat's all, sir!” replied she modestly looking down and drawing the basket, which sufficiently screened her, still closer to her person.

“Is that which you have on a sample of the goods your clothes are made of?”

“Yes, sir, dis is da kine.”

“I would like to see some other of your girls.”

“Stop, sir, I go call Susan!” when, gathering up and drawing around and before her a surplus of the back section, the only remaining sound remnant of the narrow tattered garment that she wore, off she ran

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behind the gin, where lay in the sun, a number of girls to rest themselves during their hour of “spell.”

“Susan!” she exclaimed rather loudly. “I do'n want you gals!” she pleasantly admonished, as the whole twelve or fifteen rose from their resting place, and came hurriedly around the building, Nancy and Susan in the lead. They instinctively as did Nancy, drew their garments around and about them, on coming in sight of the stranger. Standing on the outside of the fence, Henry politely bowed as they approached.

“Dis is Susan, sir!” said Nancy, introducing her friend with bland simplicity.

“How de do, sir!” saluted she, a modest and intelligent, very pretty young black girl, of good address.

“Well, Susan!” replied Henry. “I don't want anything but to see you girls; but I will ask you this question: how many suits of clothes do they give you a year?”

“One, sir.”

“How many pieces make a suit?”

“Jus' one frock,” and they simultaneously commenced drawing still closer before, the remnant of coarse garment, which hung in tatters about them.

“Don't you have shoes and stockings in winter?”

“We no call foh shoes, case 'taint cole much; on'y some time little fros'.”

“How late in the evening do you work?”

“Da fiel' han's dah,” pointing to those returning to the field, “da work till bedtime, but we gals heah, we work in de gin, and spell each other ev'ey twelve ouahs.”

“You're at leisure now; who fills your places?”

“Nutha set a' han's go to work, fo' you come.”

“How much cotton do they pick for a task?”

“Each one mus' pick big basket full, an' fetch it in f'om da fiel' to de gin, else da git thirty lashes.”

“How much must the women pick as a task?”

“De same as de men.”

“That can't be possible!” said Henry, looking over the fence down upon their baskets. “How much do they hold?”

“I dis membeh sir, but good 'eal.”

“I see on each basket marked 225 pounds; is that the quantity they hold?”

“Yes, sir, dat's it.”

“All mus' be in gin certain ouah else da git whipped; sometime de men help 'em.”

“How can they do this when they have their own to carry?”

“Da put derse on de head, an' ketch holt one side de women basket. Sometimes they leave part in de fiel', an' go back afteh it.”

“Do you get plenty to eat?”

“No, sir, da feeds us po'ly; sometime, we do'n have mo'n half nough!”

“Did you girls ever work in the field?”

“O yes, sir! all uv us, on'y we wan't strong nough to fetch in ouh cotton, den da put us in de gin.”

“Where would you rather; in the gin or in the field?”

“If 'twant foh carryin' cotton, we'a rather work in de fiel'.”

“Why so, girls?”

“Case den da would'n be so many ole wite plantehs come an' look at us, like we was show!”

“Who sees that the tasks are all done in the field?”

“Da Driveh.”

“Is he a white man?”

“No sir, black.”

“Is he a free man?”

“No, sir, slave.”

“Have you no white overseer?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Dorman.”

“Where is Dorman when you are at work.”

“He out at de fiel too.”

“What is he doing there?”

“He watch Jesse, da drivah.”

“Is Jesse a pretty good fellow?”

“No, sir, he treat black folks like dog, he all de time beat 'em, when da no call to do it.”

“How did he treat you girls when you worked in the field?”

“He beat us if we jist git little behind de rest in pickin'! Da wite folks make 'im bad.”

“Point him out to me and after tonight, he'll never whip another.”

“Now, girls, I see that you are smart intelligent young women, and I want you to tell me why it is, that your master keeps you all here at work in the gin, when he could get high prices for you, and supply your places with common cheap hands at half the money?”

“Case we gals won' go! Da been mo'n a dozen plantehs heah lookin' at us, an' want to buy us foh house keepehs, an' we wont go; we die fus!” said Susan with a shudder.

“Yes,” repeated Nancy, with equal emotion, “we die fus!”

“How can you prevent it, girls; won't your master sell you against your will?”

“Yes, sir, he would, but da plantehs da don't want us widout we willin' to go.”

“I see! Well girls, I believe I'm done with you; but before leaving let me ask you, is there among your men, a real clever good trusty man? I don't care either old or young, though I prefer an old or middle-aged man.”

“O yes, sir,” replied Nancy, “da is some mong 'em.”

“Give me the name of one,” said Henry, at which request Nancy and Susan looked hesitatingly at each other.

“Don't be backward,” admonished he, “as I shan't make a bad use of it.” But still they hesitated, when after another admonition Nancy said, “Dare's uncle Joe — — ”

“No, uncle Moses, uncle Moses!” in a suppressed tone interrupted the other girls.

“Who is uncle Moses?” enquired Henry.

“He' my fatha,” replied Susan, “an — — ”

“My uncle!” interrupted Nancy.

“Then you two are cousins?”

“Yes, sir, huh fatha an my motha is brotha an sisteh,” replied Nancy.

“Is he a religious man, girls?”

“Yes, sir, he used to preach but'e do'n preach now,” explained Susan.

“Why?”

“Case da 'ligions people wo'n heah im now.”

“Who, colored people?”

“Yes, sir.”

“When did they stop hearing him preach?”

“Good while ago.”

“Where at?”

“Down in da bush meetin', at da Baptism.”

“He's a Baptist then — what did he do?”

Again became Susan and Nancy more perplexed than before, the other girls in this instance failing to come to their relief.

“What did he do girls? Let me know it quick, as I must be off!”

“Da say — da say — I do'n want tell you!” replied Susan hesitating, with much feeling.

“What is it girls, can't some of you tell me?” earnestly enquired Henry.

“Da say befo' 'e come heah way down in Fagina, he kill a man, ole po' wite ovehseeah!”

“Is that it, girls?” enquired he.

“Yes, sir!” they simultaneously replied.

“Then he's the very man I want to see!” said Henry. “Now don't forget what I say to you; tell him that a man will meet him tonight below here on the river side, just where the carcass of an ox lies in the verge of the thicket. Tell him to listen and when I'm ready, I'll give the signal of a runaway — the screech of the panther* — when he must immediately obey the summons. One word more, and I'll leave you. Every one of you as you have so praiseworthily concluded, die before surrendering to such base purposes as that for which this man who holds you wishes to dispose of you. Girls, you will see me no more. Fare — — ”

“Yo' name sir, yo' name!” they all exclaimed.

“My name is — Farewell, girls, farewell!” — — when Henry darted in the thickest of the forest, leaving the squad of young maiden slaves in a state of bewildering inquiry concerning the singular black man.

The next day Jesse the driver was missed, and never after heard of. On inquiry being made of the old man Moses concerning the stranger, all that could be elicited was, “Stan' still child'en, and see da salvation uv da Laud!”