|
Despite some conservatives' attempts to re-write and sanitize this
"peculiar institution", as slavery was so euphemistically called, it remains a dreadful, indelible stain on this nation's
history. The eyewitness accounts of the horrors of slavery, posted on this page, leave one gasping at the unbelievable
cruelty that one human being can bestow upon another.
Related Links:
INDEX:
A Slave Is Tortured
She Would Kill Herself Before She Returned To Bondage
There Is No Such Thing As Rest
The Want Of Parental Care
A common theme of these eyewitness accounts is one of horrific brutality.
I concede to being naive and, perhaps, an overly-sensitive, liberal, bleeding-heart do-gooder. I'm also a reasonably
intelligent person. However, it is far beyond my ability to understand, comprehend, or even remotely fathom how one
human being could inflict such inhumane treatment, such unspeakable brutality upon another living, breathing being.
And yet, I find it utterly asinine and, most assuredly, un-American that most of these slave owners and overseers were considered
decent people, outstanding citizens, pillars of the community and good Christians. I beg to differ with these overly-generous
descriptions of people who perpetrated such madness. In my opinion, these people should be described as what they really were.
. . . MONSTERS, who committed crimes against humanity.
"A Slave Is Tortured"
In my childhood I knew a valuable slave, named Charity, and
loved her, as all children did. Her young mistress married, and took her to Louisiana. Her little boy, James, was sold to
a good sort of master. He became involved in debt, and James was sold again to a wealthy slaveholder, noted for his cruelty.
With this man he grew up to manhood, receiving the treatment of a dog. After a severe whipping, to save himself from further
infliction of the lash, with which he was threatened, he took to the woods. He was in a most miserable condition -- cut by
the cowskin, half naked, half starved, and without the means of procuring a crust of bread.
Some weeks after his escape,
he was captured, tied, and carried back to his master's plantation. This man considered punishment in his jail, on bread and
water, after receiving hundreds of lashes, too mild for the poor slave's offence. Therefore he decided, after the overseer
should have whipped him to his satisfaction, to have him placed between the screws of the cotton gin, to stay as long as he
had been in the woods. This wretched creature was cut with the whip from his head to his foot, then washed with strong brine,
to prevent the flesh from mortifying, and make it heal sooner than it otherwise would. He was then put into the cotton gin,
which was screwed down, only allowing him room to turn on his side when he could not lie on his back. Every morning a slave
was sent with a piece of bread and bowl of water, which were placed within reach of the poor fellow. The slave was charged,
under penalty of severe punishment, not to speak to him.
Four days passed, and the slave continued to carry the bread
and water. On the second morning, he found the bread gone, but the water untouched.
When he had been in the press
four days and five nights, the slave informed his master that the water had not been used for four mornings, and that a horrible
stench came from the gin house. The overseer was sent to examine into it. When the press was unscrewed, the dead body was
found partly eaten by rats and vermin. Perhaps the rats that devoured his bread had gnawed him before life was extinct. Poor
Charity! Grandmother and I often asked each other how her affectionate heart would bear the news, if she should ever hear
of the murder of her son. We had known her husband, and knew that James was like him in manliness and intelligence. These
were the qualities that made it so hard for him to be a plantation slave. They put him into a rough box, and buried him with
less feeling than would have been manifested for an old house dog. Nobody asked any questions. He was a slave; and the feeling
was that the master had a right to do what he pleased with his own property. And what did he care for the value of a slave?
He had hundreds of them. When they had finished their daily toil, they must hurry to eat their little morsels, and be ready
to extinguish their pine knots before nine o'clock, when the overseer went his patrol rounds. He entered every cabin, to see
that men and their wives had gone to bed together, lest the men, from over-fatigue, should fall asleep in the chimney corner,
and remain there till the morning horn called them to their daily task. Women are considered of no value, unless they continually
increase their owner's stock. They are put on a par with animals. This same master shot a woman through the head, who had
run away and been brought back to him. No one called him to account for it. If a slave resisted being whipped, the bloodhounds
were unpacked, and set upon him, to tear his flesh from his bones. The master who did these things was highly educated, and
styled a perfect gentleman. He also boasted the name and standing of a Christian, though Satan never had a truer follower.
I could tell of more slaveholders as cruel as those I have described. They are not exceptions to the general rule.
I do not say there are no humane slaveholders. Such characters do exist, notwithstanding the hardening influences around them.
But they are "like angels' visits -- few and far between."
Copyright 1998 by the Academic Affairs Library , the University of North
Carolina at Chapel Hill, all rights reserved
In the following narrative, a mother, despite her intense unabiding
love for her child, elected to kill that child, rather than have it returned to bondage.
"SHE WOULD KILL HERSELF...BEFORE SHE WOULD RETURN TO BONDAGE"
by Levi Coffin
Margaret Garner, a fugitive slave from Kentucky, killed one of her children
rather than permit her to be returned to slavery. Garner drowned in a shipwreck as she was being brought back to slavery.
Perhaps no case that came under my notice, while engaged in aiding fugitive
slaves, attracted more attention and aroused deeper interest and sympathy than the case of Margaret Garner, the slave mother
who killed her child rather than see it taken back to slavery. This happened in the latter part of January, 1856.
The Ohio River was frozen over at the time, and the opportunity thus offered
for escaping to a free State was embraced by a number of slaves living in Kentucky, several miles back from the river. A party
of seventeen, belonging to different masters in the same neighborhood, made arrangements to escape together. There was snow
on the ground and the roads were smooth, so the plan of going to the river on a sled naturally suggested itself. The time
fixed for their flight was Sabbath night, and having managed to get a large sled and two good horses, belonging to one of
their masters, the party of seventeen crowded into the sled and started on their hazardous journey in the latter part of the
night. They drove the horses at full speed, and at daylight reached the River below Covington, opposite Wester Row. They left
the sled and horses here, and as quickly as possible crossed the river on foot. It was now broad daylight, and people were
beginning to pass about the streets and the fugitives divided their company that they might not attract so much notice.
An old slave named Simon and his wife Mary, together with their son Robert
and his wife Margaret Garner and four children, made their way to the house of a colored man named Kite, who had formerly
lived in their neighborhood and had been purchased from slavery by his father, Joe Kite. They had to make several inquiries
in order to find Kite's house, which was below Mill Creek, in the lower part of the city. This afterward led to their discovery;
they had been seen by a number of persons on their way to Kite's, and were easily traced by pursuers. The other nine fugitives
were more fortunate. They made their way up town and found friends who conducted them to safe hiding- places, where they remained
until night. They were put on the Underground Railroad, and went safely through to Canada....
In a few minutes...[Kite's] house was surrounded by pursuers- - the masters
of the fugitives, with officers and a posse of men. The door and windows were barred, and those inside refused to give admittance.
The fugitives were determined to fight, and to die, rather than to be taken back to slavery. Margaret, the mother of the four
children, declared that she would kill herself and her children before she would return to bondage. The slave men were armed
and fought bravely.
The window was first battered down with a stick of wood, and one of the
deputy marshals attempted to enter, but a pistol shot from within made a flesh wound on his arm and caused him to abandon
the attempt. The pursuers then battered down the door with some timber and rushed in. The husband of Margaret fired several
shots, and wounded one of the officers, but was soon overpowered and dragged out of the house. At this moment, Margaret Garner,
seeing that their hopes of freedom were in vain, seized a butcher knife that lay on the table, and with one stroke cut the
throat of her little daughter, whom she probably loved the best. She then attempted to take the life of the other children
and to kill herself, but she was overpowered and hampered before she could complete her desperate work. The whole party was
then arrested and lodged in jail.
The trial lasted two weeks, drawing crowds to the courtroom every day....The
counsel for the defense brought witnesses to prove that the fugitives had been permitted to visit the city at various times
previously. It was claimed that Margaret Garner had been brought here by her owners a number of years before, to act as nurse
girl, and according to the law which liberated slaves who were brought into free States by the consent of their masters, she
had been free from that time, and her children, all of whom had been born since then- - following the condition of the mother-
- were likewise free.
The Commissioner decided that a voluntary return to slavery, after a visit
to a free State, re-attached the conditions of slavery, and that the fugitives were legally slaves at the time of their escape....
But in spite of touching appeals, of eloquent pleadings, the Commissioner
remanded the fugitives back to slavery. He said that it was not a question of feeling to be decided by the chance current
of his sympathies; the law of Kentucky and the United States made it a question of property.
Source: Levi Coffin, Reminiscences (Cincinnati, 1876).
The following is another true eyewitness account of unimaginable cruelty,
told by one who experienced it.
THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS REST"
by Solomon Northrup
Solomon Northrup was a free black who was kidnapped in New York and sold
into slavery for twelve years. He was finally returned to freedom through the efforts of New York's governor. In the following
selection he describes how cotton was raised on his Louisiana plantation.
The hands are required to be in the cotton field as soon as it is light
in the morning, and, with the exception of ten or fifteen minutes, which is given them at noon to swallow their allowance
of cold bacon, they are not permitted to be a moment idle until it is too dark to see, and when the moon is full, they often
times labor till the middle of the night. They do not dare to stop even at dinner time, nor return to the quarters, however
late it be, until the order to halt is given by the driver.
The day's work over in the field, the baskets are "toted," or in other
words, carried to the gin- house, where the cotton is weighed. No matter how fatigued and weary he may be- - no matter how
much he longs for sleep and rest- - a slave never approaches the gin- house with his basket of cotton but with fear. If it
falls short in weight- - if he has not performed the full task appointed him, he knows that he must suffer. And if he has
exceeded it by ten or twenty pounds, in all probability his master will measure the next day's task accordingly. So, whether
he has two little or too much, his approach to the gin- house is always with fear and trembling. Most frequently they have
too little, and therefore it is they are not anxious to leave the field. After weighing, follow the whippings; and then the
baskets are carried to the cotton house, and their contents stored away like hay, all hands being sent in to tramp it down.
If the cotton is not dry, instead of taking it to the gin- house at once, it is laid upon platforms, two feet high, and some
three times as wide, covered with boards or plank, with narrow walks running between them.
This done, the labor of the day is not yet ended, by any means. Each one
must then attend to his respective chores. One feeds the mules, another the swine- - another cuts the wood, and so forth;
besides, the packing is all done by candle light. Finally, at a late hour, they reach the quarters, sleepy and overcome with
the long day's toil. Then a fire must be kindled in the cabin, the corn ground in the small hand- mill, and supper, and dinner
for the next day in the field, prepared. All that is allowed them is corn and bacon, which is given out at the corncrib and
smoke- house every Sunday morning. Each one receives, as his weekly allowance, three and a half pounds of bacon, and corn
enough to make a peck of meal. That is all- - no tea, coffee, sugar, and with the exception of a very scanty sprinkling now
and then, no salt....
An hour before day light the horn is blown. Then the slaves arouse, prepare
their breakfast, fill a gourd with water, in another deposit their dinner of cold bacon and corn cake, and hurry to the field
again. It is an offense invariably followed by a flogging, to be found at the quarters after daybreak. Then the fears and
labors of another day begin; and until its close there is no such thing as rest....
In the month of January, generally, the fourth and last picking is completed.
Then commences the harvesting of corn....Ploughing, planting, picking cotton, gathering the corn, and pulling and burning
stalks, occupies the whole of the four seasons of the year. Drawing and cutting wood, pressing cotton fattening and killing
hogs are but incidental labors.
Source: Twelve Years a Slave: Narrative of Solomon Northrup (Auburn,
N.Y., 1853).
"THE WANT OF PARENTAL CARE AND ATTENTION"
by James C. W. Pennington
In 1849, James C. W. Pennington, the minister of a Presbyterian Church
in New York City and the recipient of a degree from the University of Heidelberg in Germany, published a narrative of his
life that revealed the astonishing news that he was a fugitive slave and a former blacksmith from Maryland. In his account
of his life, Pennington offers the following reflections on the impact of slavery upon slave children.
My feelings are always outraged when I hear [ministers] speak of "kind
masters,"- - "Christian masters,"- - "the mildest form of slavery,"- - well fed and clothed slaves," as extenuations of slavery;
I am satisfied they either mean to pervert the truth, or they do not know what they say. The being of slavery, its soul and
body, lives and moves in the chattel principle, the property principle, the bill of sale principle; the cart- whip, starvation,
and nakedness, are its inevitable consequences to a greater or less extent, warring with the dispositions of men....
Another evil of slavery [is]...the want of parental care and attention.
My parents were not able to give any attention to their children during the day. I often suffered much from hunger and
other similar causes. To estimate the sad state of a slave child, you must look at it as a helpless human being thrown
upon the world without the benefit of its natural guardians. It is thrown into the world without a social circle to flee to
for hope, shelter, comfort, or instruction. The social circle, with all its heaven- ordained blessings, is of the utmost importance
to the tender child; but of this, the slave child, however tender and delicate, is robbed.
There is another source of evil to slave children, which I cannot forbear
to mention here, as one which early embittered my life,- - I mean the tyranny of the master's children. My master had two
sons, about the ages and sizes of my older brother and myself. We were not only required to recognize these young sirs as
our young masters, but they felt themselves to be such; and, in consequence of this feeling, they sought to treat us with
the same air of authority that their father did the older slaves.
Another evil of slavery that I felt severely about this time, was the tyranny
and abuse of the overseers. These men seem to look with an evil eye upon children. I was once visiting a menagerie, and being
struck with the fact, that the lion was comparatively indifferent to every one around his cage, while he eyed with peculiar
keenness a little boy I had; the keeper informed me that such was always the case. Such is true of those human beings in the
slave states, called overseers. They seem to take pleasure in torturing the children of slaves, long before they are large
enough to be put at the hoe, and consequently under the whip.
We had an overseer, named Blackstone; he was an extremely cruel man to
the working hands. He always carried a long hickory whip, a kind of pole. He kept three or four of these in order, that he
might not at any time be without one.
I once found one of these hickories lying in the yard, and supposing that he had
thrown it away, I picked it up, and boy- like, was using it for a horse; he came from the field, and seeing me with it, fell
upon me with the one he then had in his hand, and flogged me most cruelly. From that, I lived in constant dread of that
man; and he would show how much he delighted in cruelty by chasing me from my play with threats and imprecations. I
have lain for hours in a wood, or behind a fence, to hide from his eye....
When I was nine years of age, myself and my brother were hired out from
home; my brother was placed with a pump- maker, and I was placed with a stone- mason. We were both in a town some six miles
from home. As the men with whom we lived were not slaveholders, we enjoyed some relief from the peculiar evils of slavery.
Each of us lived in a family where there was no other Negro.
The slaveholders in that state [Maryland] often hire the children of their
slaves out to non- slaveholders, not only because they save themselves the expense of taking care of them, but in this way
they get among their slaves useful trades. They put a bright slave-boy with a tradesman, until he gets such a knowledge of
the trade as to be able to do his own work, and then he takes him home. I remained with the stonemason until I was eleven
years of age: at this time I was taken home. This was another serious period in my childhood; I was separated from my older
brother, to whom I was much attached; he continued at his place, and not only learned the trade to great perfection, but finally
became the property of the man with whom he lived, so that our separation was permanent, as we never lived nearer after, than
six miles.
Source: The Fugitive Blacksmith or, Events in the History of James W.C.
Pennington (2nd ed.; London, 1849)
|
