LIBRARY OF CONGRESS DDQ13S1357E ,~J>- v '^^*'-'5>l.. "" ^ ■^. 7??-. '^^^'.^ /'\ -^i^ ^% O ■4 o ^.^ v^ .?;" '^.^ ^•^■' ^^0^ !(l^-%- o\^ ,<^ 'i((WS J .^>//^. V*^-* .V STsm YATMaa^iam THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF PETER WHEELER ■''■:^ff^. CHAINS AND FREEDOM OB, THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF PETER WHEELER, A COLORED MAN YET LIVING. A SLAVE IN CHAINS, A SAILOR ON THE DEEP, AND A SINNER AT THE CROSS. THREE VOLUMES IN ONE. BT THE AUTHOR OF THE 'MOUNTAIN WILD FLOWER. Mind not high things ; but condescend to men of low estate." Paul. NEW-YORK : PUBLISHED BY K S. ARNOLD & CO. 1839. ^i"^"* 44-- y Entired, according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1839, in the Clerk's Office of the Southern District of New York. PREFACE. The following Narrative was taken entirely from the lips of Peter Wheeler. I have in all instances given his own language, and faithful- ly recorded his story as he told it, imthout any change whatever. There are many astonish- ing facts related in this book, and before the reader finishes it, he will at least feel that " Truth is stranger than fiction." But the truth of every thing here stated can be relied on. The subject of this story is well known to the author, who for a long time brake unto him " the bread of life," as a bro- ther in Christ, and beloved for the Redeemer's sake. There are, likewise, hundreds of liv- ing witnesses, who have for many years been acquainted with the man, and aware of the incidents here recorded, who cherish perfect confidence in his veracity. He has many times, for many years, rela- ted the same facts, to many persons, in the same language verbatim; and individuals to 1* VI PREFACE. whom the author has read some of the follow- ing incidents, have recognized the story and language, as they heard them from the hero's lips long before the author ever heard his name. There are also persons yet living, whom I have seen and known, who witnessed many of Peter's most awful sufferings. Of course, the book lays no claim to the merit of literature, and will not be reviewed as such ; but it does claim the merit of strict veity, which is no mean characteristic in a book, in these days. The subject, and the author, have but one object in view in bringing the book before the public : — a mutual desire to contribute as far as they can, to the freedom of enchained mil- lions for whom Christ died. And if any heart may be made to feel one emotion of benevo- lence, and lift up a more earnest cry to God for the suffering slave ; if one generous im- pulse may be awakened in a slaveholder's bo- som towards his fellow traveller to God's bar, whose crime is, in being " born with a skin not coloured like his own;" and if it may in- spire in the youthful mind, the spirit of that PREFACE. Yii sweet verse, consecrated by the hallowed as- sociations of a New-Enofland home — 'a' " I was not born a little slave To labour in the sun, And wish I were but in my grave, And all my labor done." it will not be in vain. That it may hasten that glorious consum- mation which we know is fast approaching, when slavery shall be known only in the story of past time, is the earnest prayer of the AUTHOR. Certijicate of the Citizens of Spencertown, This is to certify, that we, the undersigned, are, and have been ivell acquainted with Peter Wheeler, for a number of years, and that we place /m// confi- dence in all his statements', — ERASTUS PRATT, Justice of the Peace. CHARLES B. BUTCHER, do. do. ABIAH W. MAYHEW, Deacon of the Presby- terian Church. CHARLES H. SKIFF, M. D. WILLIAM. A. DEAN. JOHN GROFF. DANIEL BALDWIN. ELISHA BABCOCK. PHILIP STRONG. PATRICK M. KNAPP. WILLIAM TRAVER. EPHRALM BERNUS. SilMUEL HIGGINS. WILLL\M PARSONS. JAMES BALDWIN. FRANCIS CHAREVOY. [It may be proper to state that many of these gentlemen have known Peter more than thirteen years ; likewise, that they are men of the first re- spectability. Author.] CONTENTS. BOOK THE FIRST. CHAPTER I. Author's first interview with Peter— Peter calls on the Au- thor, and begins his story— his birth and residence— is adopted by Mrs. Mather and lives in Mr. Mather's house — his " red scarlet coat" — fishing expedition on Sunday with Hagar when he sees the Devil— a feat of horsemanship- saves the life of master's oldest son, and is bit in the opera- tion by a wild hog— an encounter with an " old fashioned cat owl" in the Cedar Swamp— a man killed by wild cats— a short " sarmint" at a Quaker Meeting—" I and John makes a pincushion of a calf's nose, and got tuned for it I tell ye" — holyday's amusements— the marble egg—" I and John great cronies"— Mistress sick— Peter hears something in the night which he thinks a forerunner of her death— she dies a Christian— her dying words— Peter's feelings on her death. p^gg 17—35 CHAPTER H. Peter emancipated by his old Master's Will— but is stolen and sold at auction, and bid off by GIDEON MORE- HOUSExO Hagar tries to buy her brother back— part- ing scene— his reception at his new Master's— sudden change in fortune— Master's cruelty— the Muskrat skins- prepare to go into " the new countries"— start on the jour- ney " incidents of travel" on the road— Mr. Sterling, who is a sterling.good man, tries to buy Peter— gives him a pocket full of " Bungtown coppers"— abuse— story of the Blue Mountain— Oswego— Mr. Cooper, an Abolitionist- journey's end— Cayuga county, New York. Page 36— S.^ 10 COxNTENTS. CHAPTER III. They get into a wild country, " full of all kinds of varmints," and begin to build— Peter knocked off of a barn by his mas- ter — story of a rattle-snake charming a child — Peter hews the timber for a new house, and gets paid in lashes — Tom Ludlow an abolitionist — Peter's friends all advise him to run off— the fox-tail company, their expeditions on Oneida Luke — deer stories — Rotterdam folks — story of a painter — master pockets Peter's share of the booty and bounty — the girls of the family befriend him — a sail on the Lake — Peter is captain, and saves the life of a young lady who falls over- board, and nearly loses his own — kindly and generously treated by the young lady's father, who gives Peter a splen- did suit of clothes worth seventy dollars, and " a good many other notions" — his master df steals his clothes ^£^ and wears them out himself— Mr. Tucker's opinion of his character, and Peter's of his fate. P'^gc 56 — 82 CHAPTER IV. An affray in digging a cellar — Peter sick of a typhus fever nine months — the kindness of " the gals" — physician's bill — a methodist preacher, and a leg of tainted mutton — " master shoots arter him" with a rifle ! ! — a bear story — where the skin went to — a glance at religious operations in that re- gion — " a camp meeting" — Peter tied up in the woods in the night, and "expects to be eat up by all kinds of wild varmints" — master a drunkard — owns a still — abuses his family — a story of blood, and stripes, and groans, and cries — Peter finds 'Lecta a friend in need — expects to be killed — Abers intercedes for him, and " makes it his business" — Mrs. Abers pours oil into Peter's wounds — Peter goes back, and is better treated a little while — master tries to stab him with a pitchfork, and Peter nearly kills him in self-defence— tries CONTENTS. 11 the rifle and swears he will end Peter's existence now — but the ball don't hit — the crisis comes, and that night Peter swears to be free or die in the cause. Page 83 — 124 CPAPTER V. Peter's master prosecuted for abusing him, and fined $500, and put under a bond of $2000 for good behavior — Peter for a long time has a plan for running away, and the girls help him in it — " the big eclipse of 1806" — Peter starts at night to run away, and the girls carry him ten miles on his road — the parting scene — travels all night, and next day sleeps in a hollow log in the woods — accosted by a man on the Skeneateies bridge — sleeps in a barn — is discovered — two painters on the road — discovered and pursued — fright- ened by a little girl — encounter with " two black gentlemen with a white ring round their necks" — " Ingens" chase him — "Utica quite a thrifty Uttle place" — hires out nine days — Little Falls — hires out on a boat to go to " Snackady" — makes three trips — is discovered by Morehouse j;^ — the women help him to escape to Albany — hires out on Trues- dell's sloop — meets master in the street — goes to New York — a reward of $100 offered for him — Capt. comes to take him back to his master, for " one hundred dollars don't grow on every bush" — " feels distressedly" — but Capt. Truesdell promises to protect him, " as long as grass grows and water runs — he follows the river. Pa^e Jt55 — 171 BOOK THE SECOND. CHAPTER I. Beginning of sea stories — sails with Captain Truesdell for the West-Indies — feelings on leaving the American shore — sun-set at sea — shake hands with a French frigate — a storm — old Neptune— a bottle or a shave — caboose — Peter gets two 12 CONTENTS. feathers in his cap— St Bartholomews— climate— slaves- oranges — turtle — a small pig, " bnt dam' old" — weigh an- chor for New York — "sail ho!" — a wreck — a sailor on a buoy — get him aboard — his story — gets well, and turns out to be an enormous swearer — couldn't draw a breath with- out an oath— approach to New- York — quarantine — pass the Narrows— drop anchor — rejoicing limes— Peter jumps ashore "a free nigger." Page 173 — 185 CHAPTER ir. Peter spends the winter of 1806 — 7 in New-York — sails in June in the Carnapkin for Bristol — a sea tempest — ship be- calmed off the coast of England — catch a shark and find a lady's hand, and gold ring and locket in him — this locket, &c. lead to atrial, and the murderer hung — the mother of the lady visits the ship ; sail for home — Peter sails with captain Williams on a trading voyage — Gibralter — description oi'it — sail to Bristol — chased by a privateer — she captured by a French frigate — sail for New-York — Peter lives a gentleman at large in " the big city of New York." Page 185 — 199 CHAPTER in. Peter sails for Gibralter with Captain Bainbridge — his char- acter — horrible storm — Henry falls from aloft and is killed — a funeral at sea — English lady prays — Gibralter and the lauding of soldiers — a frigate and four merchantmen — Na- poleon — Wellington and Lord Nelson — a slave ship — her cargo — five hundred slaves — a wake of blood fifteen hun- dred miles — sharks eat 'em — Amsterdam — winter there — Captain B. winters in Bristol — Dutchmen — visit to an old battle field — stories about Napoleon — Peter falls overboard and is drowned, almost — make New York the fourth of July — Peter lends five hundred dollars and loses it — sails to tlie West Indies with Captain Thompson — returns ta New York and winters with Lady Rylander — sails witlv CONTENTS. 13 Captain Williams for Gibraltar — fleet thirty-seven sail — cruise up the Mediterranean— 3It. Etna— sails to Liverpool — Lord Wellington and his troops — war between Great Bri- tain and the United States — sails for New York and goes to sea no more — his own confessions of his character- dreadful wicked — sings a sailor song and winds up his yarn. Page 202—230 BOOK THE THIRD. CHAPTER I. Lives at MadaraRylander's— Q,uakerMacy— Susana colored girl lives with Mr. Macy-she is kidnapped and carried away, and sold into slavery — Peter visits at the " Nixon's, mazin' respectable" colored people in Philadelphia — falls in love with Solena — gits the consent of old folks — fix wedding day — " ax parson" — Solena dies in his arms — his grief— com- pared with Rhoderic Dhu — lives in New Haven — sails for New York— drives hack— Susan Macy is redeemed from slavery— she tells Peter her story of blood and horror, and abuse, and the way she made her escape from her chains. Page 233—148 CHAPTER II. Kidnappin' in New York— Peter spends three years in H?il- ford — couldn't help thinkin' of Solena — Hartford Conven- tion — stays a year in Mvudletown — hires to a man in West Springfield — maV/es thirty-five dollars fishin' nights — great revival in Springfield — twenty immersed — sexton of church in Q\a Springfield— religious sentiments— returns to New York— So/ena a^ain— Susan Macy married— pulls up for the Bay State again— lives eighteen months in Westfield— six months in Sharon— Joshua Nichols leaves his wife- Peter goes after him and finds him in Spencertown, New 2 J 4 CONTENTS* York — takes money back to Mrs. Nichols — returns to Spen- certowu — lives at Esq. Pratt's — Works next summer for old Captain Beale — his character— falls in love — married — loses his only child — wife helpless eight months — great revival of 1827 — feels more like gittin' religion — " One sabba'day when when the minister preached at me" — a resolution to get re- ligion — how to become a christian — evening prayer-meeting — Peter's convictions deep and distressing — going home he kneels on a rock and prayed — his prayer — the joy of are- deemed soul — ^his family rejoice with him. Page 249—260 BOOK THE FIRST. PETER WHEELER IN CHAINS. DEDICATED TO Every body who hates oppression, and don't believe that it is right, under any circum- stances, to buy and sell the image of the Great God Almighty ; and to all who love Human Liberty well enough to help to break every yoke, that the oppressed may go free God bless all such ! " I own I am shocked at the purchase of slaves, And fear those that buy them and sell them are knaves ; What I hear of their hardships, their tortures and groans, Is almost enough to draw pity from stones." COWPER. Author's first inUnnew toith Peter Wheeler. 17 CHAPTER I. Author's first interview with Peter— Peter calls on the Au- thor, and begins his story — his birth and residence — ia adopted by Mrs. Mather and lives in Mr. Mather's house — his '• red scarlet coaC — fishing expedition on Sunday with Hagar when he sees the Devil — a feat of horsemanship — saves the life of master's oldest son, and is bit in the opera- tion by a wild hog — an encounter with an " old fashioned cat owl" in the Cedar Swamp — a man killed by wild cats — a short " sarmint" at a Quaker Meeting — " I and John makes a pincushion of a calf's nose, and got tuned for it, I tell ye" — holyday's amusements — the marble egg — "I and John great cronies" — Mistress sick — Peter hears something in the night which he thinks a forerunner of her death — she dies a Christian — her dying words — Peter's feelings on her death. Author. " Peter, your history is so re- markable, that I have thought it would make quite an interesting book ; and I have a pro- posal to make you." Peter. "Well, Sir, I'm always glad to hear the Domine talk; what's your proposal? I guess you're contrivin' to put a spoke in the Abolition wheel, ain't ye ?" -^ 2* 18 Sick a Book as Chas. Ball — every body stickin^ theirnose in it. A. *' Peter you know I'm a friend to the black man, and try to do him good." P. " Yis, I know that, I tell ye." A. *' Well, I was going to say that this ques- tion of Slavery is all the talk every where, and as facts are so necessary to help men in com- ing to correct conclusions in regard to it, I have thought it would be a good thing to write a story of your life and adventures — for you know that every body likes to read such books, and they do a great deal of good in the cause of Freedom." P. " I s'pose then youVe got an idee of makin' out some sich a book as Charles Ball, and that has done a sight of good. But it seems to me I've suffered as much as Charles Ball, and I've sartinly travelled ten times as fur as he ever did. But / should look funny enough in print, shouldn't I f The Life and Adventers of Peter Wheeler — ! ! ha ! ha ! ! ha ! ! ! And then you see every feller here in town, would be a stickin' up his nose at the very idee, jist because I'm a *' nigger" as they say — or " snow-ball," or somethin' else ; but never mind, if it's a goin' to du any good^ why I say let split, and we'll go it nose or no nose —snow-ball or no snow-balL" All ready to weigh anchor. 19 A. "Well, I'm engaged this morning Pe- ter, but if you will call down to my study this afternoon at two o'clock, I'll be at home, and ready to begin. I want you to put on your " thinking cap," and be prepared to begin your story, and I'll write while you talk, and in this way we'll do a good business — good bye Peter, give my love to your family, and be down in season." P. " Good bye Domine, and jist give wy love to your folks ; and I'll be down afore two, if nothin' happens more'n I know on." A. "Walk in — Ah! Peter you're come have you ? you are punctual too, for the clock is just striking. I'm glad to see you ; take a seat on the settee." P. " I thought I couldn't be fur out of the way : and I'm right glad to see you tu, and YOU pretty well .'' and how does your lady du r A. " All well, Peter." P. " You seem to be all ready to weigh anchor." A. " Yes, and we'll be soon under way. — JJO -4 true story any Jiow — Genealogy of Peter. And now, Peter, I have perfect confidence in your veracity, but I want you to watch every word you utter, for 'twill all be read by ten thousand folks, and I wouldn't send out any exaggerated statement, or coloured story, for all the books in Christendom. You know it's hard to tell " the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth ;" and now you will have plenty of time to thinks for I can't write as fast as you will talk, and I want you to think care- fully, and speak accurately, and we'll have a true story, and I think a good one." P. " I'll take good care of that, Mr. L and we'll have a true story if we don't have a big one ; but I'm a thinkin' that afore we git through we'll have a pretty good yarn spun, as the sailors say. I always thought 'twas bad enough to tell one lie, but a man must be pretty bad to tell one in a book, for if he has ten thousand books printed, he will print ten thousand lies, and that's lying on tu big a scale.'*' A. *' Well, Peter, in what age, and quarter of the world were you born .'"' P. <' As near as I can find out, I was born the 1st of January 1789, at Little Egg Har- bour, a parish of Tuckertown, New Jersey. HoiD Peter becomes a slave- No full-blooded quaker a slaveholder. 2 1 I was born a slave .^ — and many a time, like old Job, I've cussed the day I was born. My mother has often told me, that my great grandfather was born in Africa, and one day he and his little sister was by the seaside pickin' up shells, and there con>e a small boat along shore with white sailors, and ketches 'era both, and they cried to go back and see mother, but they didn't let 'em go, and they look 'em off to a big black ship that was crowded with negroes they'd stole ; and there they kept 'em in a dark hole, and almost starved and choked for some weeks, they should guess, and finally landed 'em in Balti- more, and there they was sold. Grandfather used to set and tell these 'ere stories all over to mother, and set and cry and cry jist hke a child, arter he'd got to be an old man, and tell how he wanted to see mother on board that ship, and how happy he and his sister was, a playing in the sand afore the ship come ; and jist so mother used to set and trot me on her knee, and tell me these 'ere stories as soon as I could understand 'em — " "Well, as I was sayin', I was born in Tuckertown, and my master's name was Job Mather. He was a man of family and prop- 22 His grandfather stolen in Africa. erty, and had a wife and two sons, and a large plantation. He was a Quaker by profession, and used to go to the Quaker meetin's ; but afore I git through with him, I'll show you he warn't overstocked with Religion. He was the first and last Quaker I ever heard on, that owned a slave,* and he warn't a full-blooded Quaker, for if he had been, he wouldn't owned me; for a full-blooded Quaker won't own a slave. I was the only slave he owned, and he didn't own me^^but this, is the way he come hy me.t Mistress happened to have a child the same time I was born, and the little feller died. So she sent to Dinah my mother, and got me to nuss her, when I was only eight days old." " Well, arter I'd got weaned, and was about a year old, mother comes to mistress, and says she, * Mistress, have you got through wdth my baby V ' No,' says Mistress, ' no Di- nah, I mean to bring him up myself.' And so she kept me, and called me Peter Wheeler, for that was my father's name, and so I lived in mas- ter's family almost jist like his own children." " The first thing I recollect was this : * Would to God, it could be said of any other denomination of Christians in Christendom ! ! t A grand distinction for some Ug Doctors to learn ! Red scarlet coat— J and John keep Sundays ^mazin strict. 23 Master and Mistress, went off up country on a journey, and left I and John, (John was her little boy almost my age,) with me at home, and says she as she goes away, ' now boys if you'll be good, when I come back, I'll bring you some handsome presents." " Well, we was good, and when she comes back, she gives us both a suit of clothes, and mine was red scarlet, and it had a little coat buttoned on to a pair of trousers, and a good many buttons on 'em, all up and down be-for- 'ard and behind, and I had a little cap, with a good long tostle on it ; and oh ! when I first got 'em on, if I didn't feel big, I won't guess." *' I used to do 'bout as I was a mind tu, until I was eight or nine year old, though Master and Mistress used to make I and John keep Sunday ^mazin strict-, yet^ I remember one Sunday, when they was gone to Quaker-meet- in', I and Hagar, (she was my sister, and lived with my mother, and mother was free,) well, I and Hagar went down to the creek jist by the house, a fishin'. She stood on the bridge, and / waded out up to my middle, and had big luck, and in an hour I had a fine basket full. But jist then I see a flouncin' in the water, and a great monstrous big thing got 24 / and Ha gar go ajishin' Sunday and see the devil — scart. hold of my hook, and yanked it arter him, pole, line, nigger and all, I'd enemost said, and if he didn't make a squashin' then I'm a white man. Well, Hagar see it, and she was scart almost to pieces, and off she put for the house, and left me there alone. Well, I thought sure 'nough 'twas the Devil, I'd hearn tell so much 'bout the old feller ; and I took my basket and put out for the house like a white-head, and I thought I should die, I was so scart. We got to the house and hid under the bed, all a tremblin' jist like a leaf, afeard to stir one inch. Pretty soon the old folks comes home, and so out we crawled, and they axed us the matter, and so we up and telled 'em all about it, and Master, says he * why sure 'nough 'twas the Devil, and all cause you went a fishin' on a Sunday, and if you go down there a fishin' agin Sunday he'll catch you both, and that'll be the eend of you two snow- balls." A. " Didn't he whip you, Peter, to pay for it ?" P. " Whip us ? No, Sir ; I tell ye what 'tis, what he telled us 'bout the Devil, paid us more'n all the whippens in creation." A. " What was the big thing in the creek V^ Learns his a, b, c's — escapes — gits thrown from a k/rse. 25 P. "Why, I s' pose 'twas a shark; they used to come up the creek from the ocean." A. " Did you have much Rehgious Intruc- tion r" P. " Why, the old folks used to tell us we musn't lie and steal and play Sabbaday, for if we did, the old hoy would come and carry us off; and that was 'bout all the Religion I got from them, and all I knowed 'bout it, as long as I lived there." A. " What did you used to do when you got old enough to work ?" P. " Why, I lived in the house, and almost jist like a gal I knew when washin'-day come, and I'd out with the poundin'-barrel, and on with the big kittle, and besides I used to do all the heavy cookin' in the kitchen, and carry the dinner out to the field hands, and scrub, and scour knives, and all sich work." A. •' Did you always used to have plenty to eat r" P. "Oh? yis, Sir, I had the handhn'ofthe victuals, and I had my fill, I tell ye." A. " Did you ever go to school, Peter .'^" P. " Yis, Sir, I went one day when John was sick in his place, and that was the only 26 Plenty to eat — almost a gal (lay I ever went, in all my life, and I larned my A, B, C's through, both ways, and never forgot 'em arter that." A. " Well, did you ever meet with any ac- cidents ?" P. " Why, it's a wonder I'm alive, I've had so many wonderful escapes. When I was 'bout ten year old. Master had a beautiful horse, only he was as wild as a painter, and so one day when he was gone away, I and John gits him out, and he puts me on, and ties my legs under his belly, so I shouldn't git flung ofl', and he run, and snorted, and broke the string, and pitched me off, and enemost broke my head, and if my skull hadn't a been pretty thick, I guess he would ; and I didn't get well in almost six weeks." Another thing I think on. Master had some of these 'ere old- fashioned long-eared and long-legged hogs, and he used to turn 'em out, like other folks, in a big wood nearby, and when they was growed up, fetch 'em and pen 'em up, and fat 'em ; and so Master fetched home two that was dreadful wild, and they had tushes so long, and put 'em in a pen to fat. Well, his oldest son gits over in the pen one day to clean out the trough, and one on 'em put arter him, and oh ! how Wild cats as thick as frogs— a man hUled hy tJtsm. 27 he haided, and run to git out; I heard him, and run and reached over the pen, and catch- ed hold on him, and tried to hft him out ; but the old feller had got hold of his leg, and took out a whole mouthful, and then let go ; and I pulled like a good feller, and got him most over, but the old sarpent got hold of my hand^ and bit it through and through, and there's the scar yit." A. " Did you let go, Peter?" P. "Let go? No! I tell ye I didn't; the hog got hold of his heel, and bit the ball right off; but when he let go that time, I fetched a dreadful lift, and I got him over the pen, safe and sound, only he was badly bit." "And while I think of it, one day Mistress took me to go with her through the Cedar Swamp to see some 'lations, only she took me as she said to keep the snakes off. It was two miles through the woods, and we went .on a road of cedar-rails, and when we got into the swamp, I see a big old-fashioned cat-owl a settin' on a limb up 'bout fifteen foot from the ground I guess ; and as I'd heard an owl couldn't see in the day-time, I thought I'd creep up sUIy, and catch him, and I says 'Mis- tress,' says I, ' will you wait ?' and she says, ^S B^ % 0, wilil )u)g — encounter with an old fashioned cat otcl. * yis, if you'll be quick.' And so up I got, and jist as I was agoin to grab him, he jumped down, and lit on my head, and planted his big claws in my wool and begun to peck, and I hollered like a loon, and swung off, and down I come, and he stuck tight and pecked worse than ever. I hollows for Mistress, and by this time she comes up with a club, and she pounded the old feller, but he wouldn't git off, and she pounded him till he was dead ; and his claws stuck so tight in my wool. Mistress, had to cut 'em out with my jack-knife, and up I got, glad 'nough to git off as I did ; and I crawled out of the mud, and the blood come a runnin' down my head, and I was clawed and pecked hke a good feller, but I didn't go owlin' agin very soon, I tell ye." " Well, we got there, and this was Satur- day, and we stayed till the next arternoon. Sunday mornin' I see a man go by, towards our house, with an axe on his shoulder ; and we started in the arternoon, and when we'd got into the middle of the swamp there lay that man dead, with two big wild cats by him that he'd killed: he'd split one on 'em open in the head, and the axe lay buried in the neck of t'other ; and there they all A short sarmlnt at a (junker meet'm\ OQ lay dead together, all covered with blood, and sich a pitiful sight I hain't seen . But oh ! how thick the wild cats was in that swamp, and you could hear 'em squall in the night, as thick as frogs in the spring; but ginerally they kept pretty still in the day time, and so we didn't think there was any danger till now ; and we had to leave the dead man there alone, only the dead wild cats was with him, and make tracks as fast as we cleverly could, for home." A. " Did you ever go to meetings ?" P. " Sometimes I used to go to Quaker meetin's with mistress, and there we'd set and look first at one and then at t'other ; and bi'm'by somebody would up and say a word or two, and down he'd set, and then another, and down lie'd set. Sometimes they was the stil- lest, and sometimes the noisiest meetin's I ever see. One time, I remember, we went to hear a new Quaker preacher, and there was a mighty sight of folks there ; and I guess we set still an hour, without hearin' a word from anybody : and that 'ere feller was a waitin' for Ms spirit^ I s'pose ; and, finally at last, an old woman gits up and squarks through her nose, and says she, " Oh ! all you young gentlemen 3* 30 Make a pincushion of a calf's nose. beware of them 'ere young ladies — Ahem ! — Oh ! all you young ladies beware of them 'ere young gentlemen — Ahem — Peneroyal tea is good for a cold ! „_£;() and down she sat, and I roared right out, and I never was so tickled in all my life ; and the rest on 'em looked as so- ber as setten' hens : — but I couldn't hold in, and I snorted out straight; and so mistress wouldn't let me go agin. And now you are a Domine, and I wants to ask you if the Lord inspired her to git up, whether or no He didn't forsake her soon arter she got up ?" A. "Why, Peter, you've made the same remark about her, that a famous historian makes about Charles Second, a wicked king of England. Some of the king's friends said, the Grace of God brought him to the throne — this historian said, " if it brought him to the throne it forsook him very soon after he got there." A. " Did you have any fun holy days, Peter." P. '* Oh ! yis, I and John used to be 'maz- ing thick, and always together, and always in mischief One time, I recollect, when mas- ter was gone away, we cut up a curious dido ; master had a calf that was dreadful gentle, and I and John takes him, and puts a rope round his neck, and pulls his nose through the Git tuned f(/r it. 31 fence, and drove it full of pins, and he blatted and blatted like murder, and finally mistress see us, and out she come, and makes us pull all the pins out, one by one, and let him go ; she didn't say much, but goes and cuts a par- cel of sprouts, and I concluded she was a go- in'' to tune us. But it come night, we went into the house, and she was mighty good, and says she, * come boys, I guess it's about bed time ;' and so she hands us a couple of basins of samp and milk, and we eat it, and off to bed, a chuckUn', to think we'd got off as well as we had. But we'd no sooner got well to bed, and nicely kivered up, when I see a light comin' up stairs, and mistress was a holdin* the candle in one hand, and a bunch of sprouts in t'other ; and she comes up to the bed, and says she, ' boys do you sleep warm f I guess I'll tuck you up a little warmer, and, at that, she off with every rag of bed clothes, and if she didn't time us, I miss my guess : and * now,' says she, ' John see that you be in bettei ousi- ness next time, when your dad's gone ; and you nigger, you good for nothin little rascal, you make a pincushion of a calfs nose agin,' will ye ?' And 1 tell ye they set close, them 'ere sprouts,''^ 32 St. Valentine's Day — Mdrlleegg. A. " Well, Peter, you were going to talk about liolydays, and I shouldn't think it much of a holyday to be 'tuned with them sprouts.' " P. " Oh ! yis, Sir, we had great times every Christmas and New- Years; but we thought the most of Saint Valentine's Day. The boys and gals of the whole neighborhood, used to git together, and carry on, and make fun, and sicJi like. We used to play pin a good deal, and I and John used to go snacks, and cheat like Sancho Panza ; and there's where we got the pins to stick in the calf's nose, I was tellin' you on. We used to have a good deal of fun sometimes in bilein eggs. Mistress would send us out to hunt eggs, and we'd find a nest of a dozen, likely, and only carry in three or four, and lay the rest by for holydays. Well, we used to bile eggs, as I was say in', and the boys would strike biled eggs together, and the one that didn't get his egg broke should have t'other's, for his'n was the best egg. Well, we got a contrivance, I and John did, that brought us a fine bunch of eggs. John's uncle was down the country once, and he gin John a smooth marble egg : oh ! 'twas a dreadful funny thing, and I guess he's got it Peter happy. 33 yit, if he's a livin' — well, we kept this egg, year in, and year out, and we'd take it to the holydays, and break all the eggs there, and carry home a nice parcel, and have a good bunch to give away, and I guess as how the boys never found it out." A. *' Why, you had as good times as you could ask for, it seems to me." P. *' Oh ! yis, Sir, I see many bright days, and, when I was a boy, I guess no feller had more fun than I did. And I mean, Domine, all through the book, to tell things jist as they was, and when I was frohcsome and hap- py I'll say so, and when I was in distress, I'll say so ; for it seems to me, a book ought to tell things jist as they be. Well, I had got about to the eend of my happy fun, for mis- tress, who was the best friend I had, was took sick, and I expected her to die — and sure 'nough she did die ; and as I was kind 'a su- perstitious, one night afore she died, I heard some strange noises, that scart me, and made me think 'em forerunners of mistress' death ; and for years and years them noises used to trouble me distressedly. Well, mistress had been a good woman, and died like a christian. When she thought she was a dyin', she called 34 Peter^s grief. up her husband to her bed-sjde, and took hiui by the hand, and says, ' I am now goin' to my God, and your God, and I want you to pre- pare to follow me to heaven,' and says ' fare- well;' she puts her arms round his neck and kisses him. Then she calls up her children, and says pretty much the same thing to them ; and then me, and she puts her arms round all our necks, and kisses us all, and says ' good bye dear children,' and she fell back into the bed and died, without a struggle or a groan. Oh ! how I cried when mistress died. She had been kind to me, and loved me, and it seemed I hadn't any thing left in the world worth livin' for ; put it all together, I guess I cried more'n a week 'bout it, and nothin' would pacify me. I loved mistress, and when I see her laid ir ♦he grave it broke my heart, I have never in all my life with all my suffer- in's had any affliction that broke me down as that did. I thought I should die : the world looked gloomy 'round me, and I knew I had nothin' to expect from master after she was gone, and I was left in the world friendless and alone. I had seen so?ne, yis many, good days, and I don't beheve on arth there was a happier boy than Peter Wheeler ; but when Tliomson rows Brechenridge up Salt River. 35 mistress closed her eyes in death, my sorrows begun ; and oh ! the tale of 'em will make your heart ache, afore I finish, for all my hopes, and all my fun, and all my happiness, was buried in mistress' grave." A. *' Well, Peter, I'm tired of writing, and suppose we adjourn till to-morrow." P. " Well, Sir, that '11 do I guess— oh ! afore I go, have you got any more " Friend of Man?" A. " Oh ! yes, and something better yet — here's Thomson and Breckenridge's De- bate." P. "Is that the same Thomson that the slavery folks drove out of the country, and the gentleman of property and standing in Boston tried to tar and feather ?" A. "a7""YES."«^ P. " Well, I reckon he must have rowed Breckenridge up Salt River." ..^ A. " You're right, Peter, and he left him on Dry Dock ! ! I" P. " Good bye, Domine." A. "Goodbye, Peter." 36 Peter enters into th^ field oj trouble. CHAPTER II. Peter emancipated by his old Master's Will — bnt is stolen and sold at auction, and bid off by GIDEON MORE- nOUSE.£3] — Hagar tries to buy her brother back — part- ing scene — his reception at his new Master's — sudden change in fortune — Master's cruelty — the Muskrat skins — prepare to go into '' the new countries" — start on the jour- ney " incidents of travel" on the road — Mr. Sterling, who is a sterling-good man, tries to buy Peter — gives him a pocket full of " Bungtown coppers" — abuse — story of the Blue Mountain — Oswego — Mr. Cooper, an Abolitionist — journey's end — Cayuga county, New York. Author, " Well, Peter, I've come up to your house this morning, to write another chapter in the book ; and you can go on with your boots while I write, and so we'll kill two birds with one stone." Peter, *' Well, I felt distressedly when mis- tress died, and I cried, and mourned, and wept, night and day. I was now in my ele- venth year. While she lived I worked in the house, but, as soon as she died, I was put into the field ; and so, on her death, I entered into what I call the field of trouble ; and now my Peter kidnapped ancC sold at anctian. 37 Story will show ye what stuff men and women is made of. " My master didn't oini me, for I was made free by my old master's tcill^ who died when I was little ; and, in his will, he liberated my mother, who had always been a slave and all her posterity ; so that as soon as old master died, I was free hy law — but pity me if slavery folks regard law that ever I see :.=-£^ for slavery is a tramplin' on all laws. Well, arter mother was free, she got a comfortable livin' till her death. In that will I was set free, but I lived with master till after mistress' death, and then I was stole, and in this way. Master got un- easy and thought he could do better than to stay in that country, and so he advertised his plantation for sale. It run somethin' like this, on the notice he writ : ' FOR SALE, * A plantation well stocked with oxen, hor- ses, sheep, hogs, fowls, &.c. — and flC?* one young, smart nigger, sound every way. c-£D " You see they put me on the stock-list ! ! Well, when the day came that I was to be sold, oh ! how I felt ! I knew it warn't right, but what could / do .^ / was a Hack hoy. They 38 Peter sells for $110, to Gideon Morehouse. sold one thing, and then another, and bim'bye they made me mount a table, and then the auctioneer cries out : — * Here's a smart, active, sound, well trained, young nigger — he's a first rate body servant, good cook, and all that ; now give us a bid :' and one man bid $50, and another $60 ; and so they went on. Sister Hagar, she was four years older than me, come up and got on to the table with me, (they dassent sell her,) and she began to cry, and sob, and pity me, and says she, ' oh Peter, you ain't agoin' way off, be ye, 'mong the wild Ingens at the west, be ye ?' You see there was some talk, that a man would buy me, who was a goin' out into York State, and you know there was a sight of Ingens here then, and folks was as 'fraid to go to York State then, as they be now to go to Texas — and so Hagar put her arms round my iTeck, and oh ! how she cried ; $95 cries out one man ; $100 cries another, and so they kept a bidden' while Hagar and I kept a cryin' and finally,0:r'GIDEON MOREHOUSE^^j) (oh ! it fairly makes my blood run cold, to speak that name, to this day,) well, he bid $110, and took me — master made him pro- mise to school me three quarters, or he'd not Peter's sister tries to buy her brother back. 39 give him a bill of sale ; so he promised to do it, and I was his Q^^Property.^^And that's all a slaveholder's word is good for, for he never sent me to school a day in his life. Now, how could that man get any right to me, w hen he bought me as stolen property ; or how could any body have even a legal right to me ? why no more as I see than you would have to my cow, if you should buy her of a man that stole her out of my barn. And yit that's the way that every slaveholder gits his right to every slave, for a body must know that a feller oicns himself. But I gin up long ago all idee of slavery folks thinkin' any thing 'bout laiD. ^J^ " Well, I should think I stood on that table two hours, for I know when I come down, my eyes ached with cryin' and my legs with stand- in' and tears run down my feet, and fairly made a puddle there. Sister Hagar, she was a very lovin' sister, and she felt distressedly to think her brother was a goin' to be sold ; and so she went round and borrowed and beg- ged all the money she could, and that, with what she had afore, made 110 Mexican dol- lars, jist what I sold for, and she comes to my new master, and says she, ' Sir, I've got $110 to buy my brother back agin, and I don't want 40 Pa r(s with hi s family. him to go off to the west, and wont you please Sir, be so kind, as sell me back my brother f * Away with ye,' he hollered, ' I'll not take short of 150 silver dollars, and bring me that or nothiii';' and so Hagar tried hard to raise so much, but she couldn't, and oh ! how she cried, and come to me and sobbed, and hung round my neck, and took on dreadfully, and wouldn't be pacified ; and besides, mother stood by, and see it all, and felt distressedly, as you know a mother must ; but, what could she do ? she was a black itoman. (t/^Now, how would your mother feel to see you sold into bondage ? Why, arter mistress died, it did seem to me that master become a very devil — he 'bused me and other folks most all- killin'ly. He married a fine gal as soon arter mistress' death as she would have him ; and she had 400 silver dollars, and a good many other things, and he took her money and went off to Philadelphia, and sold some of his pro- perty, and the rest at this auction I tell on; and then told her she must leave the premises, and another man come on to 'em, and she had to go ; and she and Hagar lived together a good many year, and got their livin' by spin- nin' and weavin', and she was almost broken- Reception at his new master s. 41 hearted all the time ; and when I got way off into the new countries, I hears from Hagar, that she died clear broken hearted. Well, I was sold a Friday, and master was to take me to Morehouse's a Sunday ; Sunday come, and I was obliged to go. I parted from mother, and never see her agin, till I heard she was dead ; but you must know how I felt, so I won't describe it. She felt distressedly, and gin me a good deal of good advice, but oh! t'was a sorrowful day for our little family, I tell ye, Mr. L . Well, I got to my new master's, and all was mighty good, and the children says, " Oh ! dis black boy fader bought, and he shall sleep with me ;" and the children most worshipped me, and mistress gin me a great hunk of ginger- bread, and I thought I had the nicest place in the world. But my joy was soon turned into sorrow. I slept that night on a straw bed, and nothin' but an old ragged coverlid over me ; and next morning I didn't go down to make a fire, for old master always used to do that him- self; and so when I comes down, master scolds at me, and boxes my ears pretty hard, and says, ' I didn't buy you to play the gentleman, you black son of a bitch — I got ye to work.' 4* 42 Learns cabinet trade. " Well, I began to grow home-sick ; and when he was cross and abusive, I used to think of mistress. *' Master was a cabinet-maker ; and so next day, says he, ' I'm agoin' to make you larn the trade,' and he sets me to planin' rough cherry boards ; and when it come night, my arms was so lame I couldn't lift' em to my head, pushin' the jack-plane ; and he kept me at this cabi- net work till the first day of May, when I got so I could make a pretty decent bedstead. I come to live with him the first of March, and now he begins to fix and git ready for to move out to the new countries. Well, when we was a packin' up the tools, I happened to hit a chisel agin' a hammer, and dull it a little, and he gets mad, and cuffs me, and thrashes me 'bout the shop, and swears like a pirate. 1 says, ' Master, I sartinly didn't mean to do it.' ' You lie, you black devil, you did,' he says ; ' and if you say another word, I'll split your head open with the broad-axe.' Well, / felt bad 'nongh, but said nothin'. He adver- tised all his property pretty much, and sold it at vandue ; and now we was nearly ready for for a start. Master had promised to let me go and see sister Hagar, and mother, a few -5^07^ of miiskrat skins. 48 days afore we started ; and as he was gone, mistress told me I might go. So I had Hberty, and I detarmined to use it. I had catched six large muskrats, and had the skins, and thinks I to myself, what's mine is 7ni/ own ; and so I up stairs, and wraps a paper round 'em, and flings 'em out the window, and puts out with them for town, and sold 'em for a quarter of a dollar a piece. I went Friday ; but I didn't see mother, for she was gone away, and Sun- day I spent visiting Hagar, and that niglit I got home. While I was gone they had found out the skins was a missin' ; and soon as I'd got home, I see somethin' was to pay ; for master looked dreadful wrothy when I come in, and none of the family said a word, 'how de,' nor nothing, only Lecta, one of the gals, asked me how the folks did, and if I had a good visit ; and she kept a talkin', and finally, the old lady kind a scowled at her, (you see the muskrat skins set hard on her stomach,) and finally, master looked at me cross enough to turn milk sour, and says he, ' Nigger, do you know anything 'bout them skins f Says I, 'No, Sir;' and I lied, it's true, but I was scart. And says he, ' you lie, you black devil.' So I stuck to it, and kept a stick in' to it, and 44 SJcins sold dear— Abuse. he kept a growing madder, and says he, ' If you don't own it, I'll whip your guts out.' So he goes and gits a long whip and bed-cord, and that scart me worser yit, and I had to own it, and I confessed I had the money I got for 'em, all but a sixpence I had spent for ginger- bread ; and he searched my pocket, and took it all away, and half a dollar besides, that Mary Brown gin me to remember her by ! /.^ — and then he gin me five or six cuts over the head, and says he, * Now, you dam nigger, if I catch you in another such he, I'll cut your dam hide off on ye;' and then he drives me off to bed, without any supper ; and he says, ' If you ain't down airly to make a fire, I'll be up arter ye with a raw hide.' *' Well, next day we went to fixin' two kiv- ered wagons for the journey ; and, arter we'd got all fixed to start, he sends me over to his mother's to shell some seed corn, up stairs, in a tub. Well, I hadn't slept 'nough long back, and so, in spite of my teeth, I got to sleep in the tub. He comes over there, and finds me asleep in the tub, and he takes up a flail staff and hits me over the head, and cussed and swore, and telled his mother to see I didn't git to sleep, nor have anything to eat in all Start for York State. 45 day. Well, arter he'd gone, the old lady call- ed me down, and gin me a good fat meal, and telled me to go up and shell corn as fast as I could. Well, I did, and it come night — I got a good supper, and put out for home; and I've always found the women cleverer than the men — they're kind'a tender-hearted, ye know. " Well, we got ready, and off we started, and I guess 'twas the 9th of May ; and I drove a team of four horses, and it had the chist of tools and family ; and he drove another team, full of other things, and his brother-in-law, Mr. Abers, who was agoin' out to larn the trade ; and Abers was mighty good to me. " Well, we started for York State, and one night we stayed in Newark, and I thought 'twas a dreadful handsome place ; for you could see New York and Brooklyn from there, and the waters round New York, that's the handsomest waters I ever see, and I have seen hundreds of harbors. " Next day we got to a place called Long Cummin, and put up at a Mr. StarUng's, and he kept a store and tavern, and they was fine folks. In the evenin' Mr. Starling comes into the kitchen where I was a sittin' by the fire, lioldin' one of the children in my lap, and he 46 -Mr. Starling tries to huy Peter. slaps me on the shoulder, and master comes in too, and says he, * Morehouse, what will you take for that boy, cash down ? I want him for the store and tavern, and run arrants, &c.' Master says, ' I don't want to sell him.' — *Well,' says Starling, * I'll give you $200 cash in hand.' Master says, ' I wouldn't take 500 silver dollars for that boy, for I mean to have the workin' of that nigger myself.' * Well,' says Starling, * you'd better take that, or you won't git anything, for he'll be running off bim'bye.' And I tell ye, I begun to think 'bout it myself, about that time. Well, I went to bed, and thought about it, and wanted to stay with StarUng ; and next mornin' Mrs. Starling comes to master, and says she, * I guess you'd better sell that boy to my husband, for he's jist the boy we want to git ;' and says I, ' Master, I wants to stay here, and I wish you'd sell me to these 'ere folks ;' — and with that he up and kicked me, and says he, ' If I hear any more of that from i/ou, I'll tie ye up, and tan your black hide ; and now go, and up with the teams.' Well, when we got all ready to start, I wanted to stay, and I boohooed and boohooed ; and Mr. Starling says to master, * I want your boy to come in the store a min- Peter'' s sorrow — travel on. 47 ute ;' and I went in, and he out with a bag of Bungtown coppers, and gin ine a hull pocket full, and says he, ' Peter, I wish you could live with me, but you can't ; and you must be a good boy, and when you git to be a man you'll see better times, I hope ;' and I cried, and took on dreadfully, and bellowed jist like a bull ; for you know, when a body's grieved, it makes a body feel a good deal worse to have a body pity 'em. I see there was no hope, and I mounted the box, and took the lines, and driv off; but I felt as bad as though I had been goin' to my funeral. Oh ! it seemed to me they was all happy there, and they was so kind to me, and they seemed to be so good, it almost broke my heart : I had every thing to eat — broiled shad, cake, apple pie, (I used to be a great hand for apple pie,) rice pudden' and raisins in it, beefsteak, and all that ; and the children kept a runnin' round the table, and sayin', ' Peter must have this, and Peter must have that ;' and I kept a thinkin' as I drove on, how they all kept flocking round me when we come away, and I cried 'bout it two or three days, and every time master come up, he'd give me a lick over my ears, 'cause I was a cry in'. If I should die I couldn't 48 Kicked dreadfully. think of the next place where we stayed all night. We travelled thirty miles, and the tavern keeper's name was Henry Williams. Well, the day arter, we had a very steep hill to go down, and the leaders run on fast, and I couldn't hold 'em, and when we got to the bottom, master hollered, 'Stop!' and up he come, and ivhipped me dreadfully/, and JcicJccd 7ne icith a pair of heavy hoots so hard in my back, I was so lame I couldn't hardly walk for three or four days, and every body asked me what was the matter. The next place we stop- ped at, the tavern keeper's folks was old, and real clever ; and master telled 'em not to let me have any supper but buttermilk, and that set me to cry in', and I boohooed a considera- ble ; and the darter says, ' Come, mother, let's give Peter a good supper, and his master will pay for it, tu ;' and so they did ; and as I was a settin' by the fire, she axed me, and I telled her all 'bout how I was treated, and says she, ' Why don't you run away, Peter ? I wouldn't stay with sich a man : I'd run, if I had to stay in the woods.' Next mornin' the old man was mad 'nough when he see the bill for my butter- milk, and swore a good deal 'bout it. Next 4ay we come to the ' Beach Woods,' and 'twas Story of the " Beach Woods'^ — Black mans tavern. 49 the roughest road you ever see, and the wheels would go down in the mud up to the hubs, then up on a log ; and he'd make me lift the wheels as hard as I any way could, and he wouldn't lift a pound, and stood over me with his whip, and sung out, ' lift^ you Mack devil, lif'.^ And I did lift, till I could tairly see stars, and go back and forth from one wagon to t'other, he to whip, and I to lift; and so we kept a tuggin' through the day till night. That night we stayed to a black man's tavern ; and when w^e come up, and see 'twas a black man's house, master was mad 'nough ; but he couldn't git any furder that night, and so he had to be an abolitionist once in his life, any how ! ! ! Well, he didn't drive that nigger round, I tell ye, he was on tu good footin' : he owned a farm, and fine house, and we had as good fare there as any where on the road. The next day the goin' was so bad we couldn't git out of the woods, and we had to stay there all night ; and oh ! what times we did see ; I lifted and strained till I was dead : and that night we slept in the wagons — the women took possession of one, and we of t'other ; and the woods was alive with wolves and panthers ; and such a howlin' and scream- 50 Jyohes and Panthers— Mr. Cooper, an ahoVa'wnlsf . ill' you never heard ; but we builds up a large tire, and that kept 'em off. We lay on our faces in the wagon, with our rifles loaded, cocked and primed ; and when them 'ere var- mints howled, the horses trembled so the har- nesses fairly shook on 'em : but there war n't any more sleep there that night, than there w^ould be in that fire. *' Next day we worried through, and stop- ped at a house, and got some breakfast of bears' meat and hasty pudden' ; and it come night, we made the ' Blue Mountain ;' and on the top of it was some good folks ; we stay- ed there one night, and Mr. Cooper, the land- lord, come out to the barn, and axed me if I was hired out to that man, or belonged to him I ' Well,' said he, ' if you did but know it, you are free now, for you are in a free state, and it's agin' the law to bring a slave from another state into this ; and where be you goin' ?' ' To Cayuga County,' says I. * Well, when you git there, du you show him your backsides, and tell him to help himself.' The next night we stayed in Owego ; but I'm afore my story, for goin' down the Blue Mountain next day, the leaders run, and 1 couldn't hold 'em if I should be shot, and they The race doion Blue Mountain — a philanthropist. 51 broke one arm oiF of the block tongue. Well, I stopped, and master comes riinnin' np, and he fell on, and struck me, and mauled me most awfully ; and jist then a man come up on horseback, and says he to master, ' If you want to kill that boy, why don't ye beat his brains out w'ith an axe and done w^ith it — ^but don't maul him so ; ^ov you know, and /know, for I see it all myself, that that boy ain't able to hold that team, and I shouldn't a thought it strange if they had dashed every thing to pieces.' Well, master was mad 'nough, for that was a dreadful rebuke ; and says he, * You'd better make off with yourself, and mind your own business.' The man says, ' I don't mean to quarrel with you, and I won't ; but I think ye act more like a devil than a manl^Ji^ So off he went; and / love that man yit ! Next night we stayed in Owego ; and the tavern keeper, a fine man, had a talk with me arter bed-time ; and says he, ' Peter, your master can't touch a hair of your head, and if you w^ant to be free you can, for we've tried that experiment here lately ; and w^e've got a good many slaves free in this way, and the} 're doing well. But if you want to run away, why 52 Reach their destination — Note — Bihle authority. run ; but wait awhile, for you are a boy yit, and there are folks m York State, mean 'nough to catch you and send you back to your mas- ter !'.=^* " Well, I parted from that man, and I re- solved that I would run away, but take his advice, and not run till I could clear the coop for good. Well, we finally got to the end of our journey, and put up at Henry Ludlow's * Yes, and there are folks, yes judges and dough faced politi- cians enough in the state now who would blast all the hopes that led a poor slave on from his chains; and when he was just stepping across the threshold of the temple of freedom, dash him to degradation and slavery, and pollute that threshold with his blood. Until a fugitive from tyranny sh:ill be safe in the asylum of the oppressed and the home of liberty, let us not be told to go to the south. And who are the men who would, who have done this? Certainly not philanthropists ; for the phihmthropist loves to make his brother man happy, and will always strike for his freedom. Certainly not Christians ; for it was one of the most explicit enactments of God, when he established his theocracy upon earth, and incorporated into the code of his government, that " Thou slialt not deliver unto his master the servant iliat is escaped from his master unto thee." (Deut. xxii. 15.) And can a man, who respects and regards the laws of heaven, turn traitor to God. and prostrate, at one fell swoop, all the claims of benevolence the fugitive slave imposes, when he lifts his fetter-galled arms to his bro- ther, and cries, " Oh ! help me to freedom— to liberty— to heaven'/" Author's reflections. 53 house, in Milton township, and county of Ca- yuga, and State of New York." A. *' Well, Peter, I think we can afford to stop writing now, for I'm fairly tired out. Good bye, Peter." P. " Good bye, Domine." As I came away from the lowly cottage of Peter Wheeler, and thought of the toils and barbarities of a life of slavery, and returned to the sweet and endearing charities of my own quiet home, tenderness subdued my spi- rit ; and I could not but repeat, with emotions of the deepest gratitude, those sweet lines of my childhood : ' I was not born a little slave, To labor in the sun ; And wish I were but in my grave, And all my labor done.' Oh ! I exclaimed as I entered my study, and sat down before a bright, cheerful fireside, and was greeted with the kind look of an af- fectionate wife, as the storm howled over the mountains, Oh ! God made man to be free, 54 A picture of ^llavery. and he must be a. ivretch, and not a man, who can quench all this social light forever. I hate not slavery so much for its fetters, and whips, and starvation, as for the blight and mildew it casts upon the social and moral condition of man. Oh ! enslave not a soul — a deathless spirit — trample not upon a mind, 'tis an im- mortal thing. Man perchance may light anew the torch he quenches, but the soul I Oli ! tremble and beware — lay not rude hands upon God's image there- — I thought of the vast ter- ritory that stretches from the Atlantic to the foot of the Rocky Mountains, and from our Southern border to the heart of our Capitol, as one mighty altar of Mammon — where so much social light is sacrificed and blotted from the universe; where so many deathless spirits, that God made free as the mountain wild bird, are chained down forever, and I kneeled around my family altar, and I could not help uttering a prayer from the depths of my soul, for the millions of God's creatures, and my brethren, who pass lives of loneliness and sor- row in a world which has been lighted up with the Redeemer's salvation. What a scene for man to look at when he prays : A God who loves to make all his creatures happy ! A A prayer for freedoTd. 55 wurid which groans because man is a sinner ! A man who loves to make his brother wretch- ed ! Oh! thought 1, if |)rayer can reach a father's ear to night, one yoke shall be broken, and one oppressed slave shall go free. 56 " Varmints'^ thieve out in that lo'ili country. CHAPTER III. They get into a wild country, " full of all kinds of varmints,'* and begin to build — Peter knocked oft' of a barn by his mas- ter — story of a rattle-snake charming a child — Peter hews the timber for a new house, and gets paid in lashes — Tom Ludlow an abolitionist — Peter's friends all advise him to run off" — the fox-tail company, their expeditions on Oneida Lake — deer stories — Rotterdam folks — story of a painter- master pockets Peter's share of the booty and bounty — the girls of the family befriend him — a sail on the Lake — Peter is captain, and saves the life of a young lady who falls over- board, and nearly loses his own — kindly and generously treated by the young lady's father, who gives Peter a splen- did suit of clothes worth seventy' dollars, and "a good many other notions" — his master \S3^ steals his clothes .jrjl and wears them out himself — Mr. Tucker's opinion of his character, and Peter's of his fate. Author. " Well, Peter, you found yourself in a wild country, out there in Cayuga, I reckon." Peter. " You're right, there's no mistake 'bout that; most every body lived in log- " P^annivts" thick otit in that wild country 57 houses, and the woods was full of wild var- mints as they could hold ; well, as soon as we'd got there, we went to buildin' a log house ; for see master owned a large farm out there, and as soon as we gits there we goes right on to work ; we finally got the house up, and gits into it, and durin' the time I suffered most unaccountably. There we went to build- m' a log barn tu, and we had to notch the logs at both ends to fay into each oiher ; well, as [ was workin' on 'em, I got one notched, and we lifted it up breast high to put it on, and he sees 'twas a leetle tu short, and nobody was to blame, and if any body 'twas him, for he measured it off; but he no sooner sees it, than he drops his eend, and doubles up his fist, and knockes me on the temples, while I was yit a holdin' on, and down I went, and the log on me, and oh ! how he swore ! well, it struck my foot, and smashed it as flat as a pancake, and in five minutes it swelled up as big as a puff- ball, and I couldn't hardly walk for a week, and yit I had to be on the move all the time, and he cussed cause I didn't go faster. When I gits up I couldn't only stand on one leg, but he made me stand on it, and lift up that log breast high, but he didn't lift a pound, but 58 Peter knocked off" of a huUding. cried out Hift, lift, you black cuss.' Well, we got the logs up, and when we was a puttin' the rafters on, I happened to make a mistake in not gittin' one on 'em into the right place, and he knocked me off of the plate, where I was a statidin' and I and the rafter went a tumblin' together, down to the ground. It hurt me distressedly, and I cried, but gits up, and says, ' master, I thinks you treat me rather.' ' Stop your mouth, you black devil, or I'll throw these 'ere adz at your head ;' and I had to shet my mouth, preity sudden, in, and keep it shet, and he made me Hft up that rafter when I couldn't hardly stand, and keep on to work ; and there I set on the evesplate a trembHn' jist like a leaf, and every move he made, I 'spected he'd hurl me off 'agin', and his voice seemed like a tempest — uh ! how savage ! But he didn't knock me off agin' — I had to thatch that barn in the coldest kind of weather, with nothin' but ragged thin clothes on ; and I used to git some bloody floggin's, cause I didn't thatch fast enough. ''But I've talked long 'nough 'bout him, and jist for amusement, I'm a goin' to tell ye a story 'bout a rattlesnake, and you may put it in the book, or not, jist as ye like. A stoi-y of a houncin set ofrattlesnahes. 59 " We lived, as I was a tellin', in a dreadful wild country, and 'twas full of all kinds of wild varmints — wolves, and panthers, and bears, was 'niazin plenty, and rattlesnakes mighty thick ; and so one day, as we comes into din- ner, mistress seemed to be rather out of humor, and she sets the baby down on the floor in a pet, and he crawls under the bed, and begins to be very full of play. He'd laugh, and stick his little hands out, and draw 'em back, and, as my place in summer was generally on the outside door, on the sill, I happened to look under the bed, and there I see a bouncin' big rattlesnake, stickin' his head up through a big crack, and as the child draws his hands back, the snake sticks his head up agin'. I sings out, with a loud voice, and says I, 'master, there's a rattlesnake under the bed.' ' You lie,' says he; and says I, 'why master, only jist look for yourself," and, at that, mistress runs to the bed, and snatches up the baby, and it screamed and cried, and there was no way of pacify in' on it in the world. Well, master begins to think I speaks the truth, and we out with the bed, and up with a board, and there lay five bouncin' rattlesnakes, and one on 'em had twenty-three rattles on him ; and so we killed all on 'em. 60 Rattlesnakes — ante 6eooa. Now that rattlesnake had charmi'd tliat cliild, and for days and days that child would cry till you put it down on the floor, and then 'twould crawl under the bed to that place, and then 'twould be still agin' ; and it did seem as tliorgh it would never forget that spot, nor snake, and it didn't till we got into the new house. " Well, this winter we went to scorein' and hewin' timber for the new house, and I followed three scores with a broad-axe, and the timber had to be heived tu ; and I was so tired many a time, that I wished him and his broad-axe 5000 miles beyond time. Well, I was a hew'- in' one of the plates, and as 'twas very long, I got one on 'em a leetle windin' and master see it, and he conies along and hits me a lick with the sharp edge of a square right atwixt my eyes, and cut a considerable [)iece of a skin so it lopped down on my nose, and on a hewiri' I had to go when the blood was a runnin' down my face in streams; and, finally, one of tl:e men took a winter-green leaf, and stuck it on over the wound, end it stopped blecdin' and it healed up in a few days. This warn't 7nuch, bur, I tell it to show the natur' of the man ; for any body will abuse power, if they have it to do just as they please. Veter^s friends advise him to run avcay. 61 " Young Tom Ludlow, one of the scorers, comes up to me, arter master was gone, and says he, ' Peter, why in the name of God don't you show Morehouse tiie bottoms of your feet ? I'd be hun^ afore I'd stand it.' ' Well, Tom,' says I, ' I wants to wait till I knows a little more of the world, and then I'll show him the bot- toms of my feet icith a greasein\ Well, Tom laughed a good deal, and says he, ' that's right Pete.' " Tom was a great friend of mine, and he tried to get me to run off for a good while, and Hen, liis brother, he was a good feller, and he tried tu ; and Miss Sara, their sister, she was a good soul, and every chance she got, she'd tell me to run ; and Mrs. Ludlow always told me I was a fool for stay in' with sick a brute; and every time I went there, I used to git a \necc of somethin' good to eat that I didn't get at home ; and Mr. Humphrey's folks was all the time a tryin' to git me to run off. 'Why,' they say, ' do you stay there to be beat, and whipt, and starved, and banged to death f why don't you run ?' The reply I used to make was, wait till I git a leetle older, and I'll clear the coop for arnest. " Squire W^hittlesey, that lived off, 'bout six 6 62 ^4 slave has some joys in God's world. miles, where I used to go on arrants, says to me one day, 'Peter, where did you come from ?' So I ups and tells him all 'bout my history. Then says he, ' Peter, can I put any confidence in you f ' 'Yis, Sir,' says I; 'you needn't be afeared of me.' 'Well,' says he, * you're free by law, and I advise you to run ; but, wait a while, and don't run till you can make sure work ; and now mind you don't go away and tell any body.' " And, finally, enemost every body says * run Pete, why don't you run ?' But thinks 1 to myself, if I run and don't make out, 'twould be better for me not to run at all, and so I'll wait, and when I run I'll run for sartin. " There wasn't many slaves in that region, but a good many colored folks lived there, and some on 'em was pretty decent folks tu. Well, we used to have some ''musements as well as many sad things; for arter all Mr. L , a'most any situation will let a body have some good things, for its a pretty hard thing to put out all a body's joys in God's world ; and then you see a slave enjoys a good many little kinda comforts that free people don't think on ; and if a time come when he can git away from his master, and forgit his troubles, why, he's a \ Amusements round Oneida Lake. 63 good deal happier than common folks. Well, we used to have some very bright times. We had a Fox Tail Company out there of forty- seven men, and Hen Ludlow was captain, and old boss was lefttenant, and I was private, and when we catched a fox, then 'twas hurrah hoys. Sometimes we used to have a good deal of 'musements over there on Oneida Lake, and we used to have fine sport. We used to start on a kind of ajishin'' scrape, and cojnc out on a kind of a hunt. " Round that lake used to be a master place for deer. Oh ! how thick they was ! We used to go over and fish in the arternoon and night ; and goin' cross the lake we'd use these 'ere trolein' lines ; and then we'd fish by pine torches in the night, and they looked fine in the night over the smooth water, all a glis- senin' ; and arter we'd done, we'd sleep on a big island in the lake, near the outlet — they called it the " Frenchman's Island" then, and I guess there was nigh upon fifty acres on it. We'd start the dogs airly next mornin' on the north shore, out back of Rotterdam, and they'd run the deer down into the lake, and then we'd have hands placed along the shore with skiffs, to put arter 'em into the water ; and we'd have ^4 Three pecks full of black suckers. a sight of fun in catchin' em, arter we'd got 'em nicely a swimmin'. *' There was a lawless set of fellows round that 'ere Rotterdam, that's a fact ; and when they heard our dogs a comin' to the shore, they'd put out arter 'em, and if they could git our deer first, they wouldn't make any bones on it : but they never got but one, for we used to have young fellers in the skiff that under- stood their business, and they'd lift 'em along some, I reckon. " But we used to have the finest sport catch- in' fish there you ever see — eels, shiners, white fish, pikes, and cat-fish, whappers I tell ye, and salmon, trout, big fellers, and oceans of pumkin-seed, and pickerel, and bass ; and, while I think on it, I must tell ye one leetle scrape there that warn't slow. " We put up a creek — I guess 'twas Chit- ining, but I ain't sartin' — a spearin' these 'ere black suckers, and of course we had rifle, powder and ball along. Well, we had mazin' luck, and I guess we got three peck basket- fuls ; and at last Tom Ludlow says, ' I swear, Pete, don't catch any more.' " 'Twas now 'bout midnight, and we went back to the fire we'd built under a big shelvin' All encounter with a painter on Oneida Lake. 65 rock, and pitched our camp there for the niglit ; and this was Saturday night, and we begins to cook our fish for supper. Arter supper, while we w^as a settin' there, some laughin', some teUin' stories, some singin', and some asleep, the gravel begins to fall off of the ledge over us, and rattle on the leaves. " Well, we out and looked up, and see a couple of lights about three inches apart, like green candles, a roUin' round ; and Hen Lud- low says, ' That's a painter, by Judas ;' and I says, ' If that's a painter, I've got the death w^eapon here, for if I pinted it at atiy thing it must come.' " Bill, a leetle feller about a dozen year old, says he, ' If I'd a known this, I wouldn't a come ;' and so he sets up the dreadful lest bawlin' you ever see. " Hen says, ' Peter, can you kill that pain- ter ?' * Yis,' says I, ' I can ; but you must let me rest my piece 'cross your shoulder, so I shan't goggle, for it's kind'a stirred my blood to see that feller's glisseners;' and he did: so I took sight, as near as I could, right atwixt them 'ere two candles, as I calls 'em, and fired, and the candles was dispersed 'mazin quick. Then we harks, and hears a dreadful rustlin* 6* g5 Bounty on painters — starts for home, up there on thf? rock, and bim'bye a most dole- fullest dyin" kind of a groan ; but \vc liears notiiin' inore> and so we goes under the rock to sleep, glad 'nough to let all kinds of varmints alone, if they'd only keep their proper dis- tance ; but mind you, we didn't sleep any that night. Come daylight, we ventured out, and up we goes on to the rock, and there lay a mortal big painter, as stiff as a poker. I'd hit him right atwixt his candles, and doused his glims for him, in a hurry. Hen, says he, * Now, Pete, you'll have money 'nough to buy £][) This reply of the mas- ter, is just like the low, and vile swaggering and brag- ing of the South, that has so long intimidated the time-serving politician of the Norths with Southern principles^ and the dough-faced christian with in- fidel principles. There is something humiliating in the thought, that the South has been able al- ways to put down the rising spirit of freedom at the North, by brags and swagger ! ^^ Ever since the early days of the Revolution, when Adams and Hancock, and Ames, and Franklin, tried to get the South to wash her hands from the blood of oppres- {*ion, and be clean, bluster, and noise, and brags 10* 1 14 Southern brags and swagger. was a small man,) and he pounds him and kicks him and bruises him up 7?iost egregiously and then starts for the door and says, * come along with me, Peter, you are agoin' to be my boy a spell, and I'll see if this is your fault, or * master's' as you call him.' have crushed our efforts. And these same patriots, noble in every thing else, were dragooned into sub- mission, and this Moloch of the South was wor- shipped by the signers of the greatest instrument the world ever saw. And, as the compromise must go on^ an unholy alliance was formed between liberty and despotism ; and as the price paid for the temple's going up, tyranny has made a great niche in our temple of freedom, and there this strange god is worshipped by freemen. Oh ! God ! what blasphemy is here 1 tyranny and liberty wor- shipped together ! offerings made to the God of heaven, and the demon of oppression on the same altar ! Nullification lifted its brags and boasts, and swagger, and the North gave up her principles. And because the South has always succeeded, they already boast of victory over all the Abolition- ists of the North, and expect either that they have accomplished the work of crushing them, or that thej can do it just when they please. But the AhoVdionists men. 115 " So I picks up my old hat, there warn't any crown in it, but swindle tow stuffed in, and goes along with him. I gits there, and Mrs. Abers, master's sister, says, ' my dear feller, ain't you almost dead ?' " So arter breakfast, for Mr. Abers had South will find that since the days of Jay, and Adams, liberty has grown strongs and when the great struggle comes, they will see that there are but two parties on the field, — a few slave-driving, slave-breeding tyrants covered with blood, un- righteously shed, at war with the combined powers of the world. The principles of Abolition, have enno- bled the human mind, and in all the world's history, cannot be found a body of men, who have endured so much obloquy and abuse, with so much unflinch- ing firmness, and manly fortitude, as the Abolition- ists. They are not to be awed by swagger, nor stopped by brags. No ! thanks to our Leader, the Lord Jesus Christ, who died to break every chain in creation, the work of human freedom must go forward ; and the South has no more power to stop the progress of light, and principles of liberty in this age, than the progress of the sun in the heavens. The great guiding principle of all the benevolence in the world is, to interfere to save a brother from distress and tyranny. — Every reform \\Q Freedom destined to fill the world, come down afore breakfast, and I sets down and eats with 'em, Mrs. Abers takes a leetle skillet, and warms some water, and then she tries to pull my shirt off, and it stuck fast to my back, and so she puts in some castile soap- suds all over my back, and I finally gits it off, and all the wool that had come off of my old homespun shirt of wool, and the Jiairs of this, sticks in the wounds, and so she takes and picks 'em all out, and washes me with a sponge very carefully, but oh ! how it hurt. — Arter this she takes a piece of fine cambric linen, and wets it in sweet ile, and lays it all over my back, and I felt like a new crutter ; and then I went to bed and slept a good while, and only got up at sundown to eat, and then to bed agin. So next mornin' she put on another jist like it, and I stayed there a fort- j-nust interfere with tyranny : 'twas so wuth Chris- tianity in its establishment — with the Reformation — with our Revolution — and shall be so — for Chris- tianity makes it man's business to interfere with every usurpation, and system of tyranny and in- vasion of human rights, until every yoke shall be broken in the entire dominions of God. Peter goes hack — master hadn't got over his bruises. 117 night and had my ease, and lived on the fat of the land tu, I tell ye." A. " Didn't your master come after you, Peter ?" P. '' Oh ! no, Sir; he had all he could do to take care of the bruises Abers gin him. So one Monday mornin' he tells me I had better go home to master's. Well, I begins to cry, and says, ' I'll go, but master will whip me to death, next time.' * No he won't,' says Abers. *You go and do your chores, and be a good boy ; and I'll be over bim'bye, and see how you git along.' "Well, as soon as I got home, I opened the door, and mistress says, ' You come home agin', have you, you black son of a bitch ?' " * Yes, ma'am ; and how does master do?' " ' None of your business, you black skunk, you.' " So master finds I'd got home, and he sends one of the children out arter me ; and in I goes, and finds him on his bed yit. He speaks, ' You got home, have you ?' ' Yis, Sir: and how does master do?' 'Oh! I'm almost dead, Peter ;' and he spoke as mild as you do. And I says, ' I'm dreadful sorry for you ;' and I lied^ tu. So I pitied him, and pre- 118 Morehouse attacks Peter with a pkeh-fork. tended to feel bad, and cry. And he says, * You must be a good boy, and take good care of the stock, till I gets well.' And so out I gees to the barn, and sung, and danced, and felt as tickled as a boy with a new whistle, to think master had got a good bruisin' as well as my- self, and I'd got on my taps first. " Well, for six months he was a kind of a decent man ; he'd speak kind'a pleasant — for he was so 'fraid of Abers, that he darn't do any other way. " Next winter followin', I was in the barn tinashin' ; and, as I stood with my back to the south door, a litter of leetle white pigs comes along, and goes to eatin' the karnels of wheat that fell over master's barn door sill ; and I was kind'a pleased to see sich leetle fellers, they always seemed so kind'a f tinny ; and the fust thing I knew, he struck me over the head with one of these 'ere old-fashioned pitch- forks, and I fell into the straw jist like a pluck in a pail of water. I gathers as quick as I could, arter I found out I was down, and he stood, with a fork in his hand, and swore if I stirred, he'd knock me down, and pin me to the floor. " I run out of the big door, and he arter Fdcr nearly kills his master in self-defence. 119 me. with the fork in his hand ; and he run me into the snow, where 'twas deep, and got me to the fence, where I was up to my middle in snow, and couldn't move ; and he was a goin' to thrust arter me, and I hollers, and says, ' Master, don^t stick that into me.' ' I tcill, you black devil.' I see there w^as no hope for me ; and I reaches out, and got hold of a stake, and as I took hold on it, as 'twas so ordered, it come out ; and, as he made a plunge alter me^ I struck arter him with this stake, and hit him right across the small of Ids hack ; and the way I did it warn't slow ; and he fell into the snow like a dead man ; and he lay there, and didn't stir, only one of his feet quiv- ered ; and I began to grow scart, for fear he was dyin' ; and I was tempted to run into the barn, and dash my head agin" a post, and dash my brains out ; and the longer I stood there, the worse I felt, for I knew for murder a body must be hung. "But bim'bye he begun to gasp, and gasp, and catch his breath ; and he did that three or four times ; and then the blood poured out of his mouth ; and he says, as soon as he could speak, ' Help me, Peter.' And I says, ' I slian't.' And he says agin', in a low voice, 120 P^^r sent for by his master. * Oh ! help me !' I says, ' I'll see the devil have you, afore I'll help you, you old heathen, you.' And at that he draws a dreadful oath, that fairly made the snow melt ; and says agin', * Do you help me, you infernal cuss.' I uses the same words agin' ; and he tells me, * if you don't, I'll kill you as sure as ever I get into the house.' " Soon he stood clear up, and walked along by the fence, and drew himself by the rails to the house ; and I went to thrashin' agin'. Pretty soon 'Lecta comes out to the barn, and says, ' Peter, father wants to see you.' I says, * If he wants to see me mor'n I want to see him, he must come where I be ;' and I had a dreadful oath with it. And she speaks as mild as a blue-bird, and says, * Now, Peter, 'tend to me. You know I'm always good to you ; now if you don't mind, you'll lose a friend.' That touches my feelin's, and I starts for the house ; but I 'spected to be killed as sure as I stepped across the silL " Well, I entered the old cellar-kitchen ; and mistress locks the door, and puts the key in her side-pocket ; and master set in one chair, and his arm a restin' on another, as I set now, and he raises up, and takes down the rifle Peier locJced up in a room and shot at. 121 that hung in the hooks over his head on a beam ; and / knew I teas a dead tnan, for I had loaded it a {q\\ days afore for a bear ; and says he, as he fetches it up to his face, and cocks it, and pints it right at my heart. * Now, you dam nigger, I'll eend your existence.' '* Now death stared me right in the face, and I knew I had nothin' to lose ; and the minute he aimed at me, I jumped at him like a streak, and run my head right atwixt his legs, and catched him, and flung him right over my head a tumblin', and I did it as quick as lightnin' ; and, as he fell, the rifle icent off, and bored two doors, and lodged in the wall of the bed-room ; and I flew and on to him, and clinched hold on his souse, and planted my knees in his belly, and jammed his old head up and down on the floor, and the way I did it warn't to be beat. " Well, by this time, old mistress come, and hit me a slap on the backsides, with one of these 'ere old-fashioned Dutch fire-slices, and it didn't set very asy 'nother ; but I still hung on to one ear, and fetched her a side- iDinder right across the bridge of her old nose, and she fell backwards, and out come the key of the door out of her pocket ; and 'Lecta got 122 Peter lias a icondtrfid escape from death. the key, and run and opened the door — for the noise had brought the gals down Hke fury ; and I gin his old head one more mortal jam with both hands, and pummelled his old belly once more hard, and leaped out of the door, and put out for the barn. " At night I come back, and there was somethin' better for my supper than I had had since I lived there. I set down to eat ; and he come out into the kitchen with his cane, and cussed, and swore, and ripped, and tore ; and I says, ' Master, you may cuss and swear as much as you please ; but on the peril of your life, don't you lay a finger on me ;' and there was a big old-fashioned butcher-knife lay on the table, and I says to him, ' Just as sure as you do, I'll run that butcher-knife through you, and clinch it.' I had the worst oath I ever took in all my life, and spoke so savage, that I fairly scart him. *' I told him to give me a paper to look a new master ; for you see, there w^as a law, that if a slave, in them days, wanted to change masters, on account of cruelty, that his old master must give him a paper, and he could git a new one, if he could find a man that would buy him. At fust he said he would give Peter swears to he free, and asks God for help. 123 me a paper in the niornin', but right off he says, ' No, I swear I won't ; Fll have the plea- sure of killin'' on you myself T ^^ *' So he cussed, and finally, went into the other room ; and the gals says, < Peter, now is your time; stick to him, and you'll either make it better or worse for you.' " So I goes off to bed, and takes with me a walnut flail swingle ; and I crawled into my nest of rags, and lay on my elbow all night ; and if a rat or a mouse stirred, I trembled, for I expected every minute he'd be a comin' up with a rifle to shoot me ; and I didn't sleep a wink all that night. And I swore to Al- mighty God, that the fust time I got a chance I'd clear from his reach ; and I prayed to the God of freedom to help me get free." A. " Well, Peter, it's late now, and we'll leave that part of the story for another chap- ter." * * All this is a true picture of slavery and op- pression, all over the globe. Man is not fit to pos- sess irresponsible power — God never designed it ; and every experiment on earth has proved the aw- ful consequence of perverting God's design. I know it will be said by almost exery reader, who 124 Slavery always the same. closes this chapter, that this was an isohited and peculiar case ; but I know, from observation, that there is nothing at all peculiar in it to the system of slavery ; and when the judgment day shall come, and the history of every slaveholder is opened, in letters of fire, upon the gaze of the whole universe, that there will be something peculiarly dark and awful in every chapter of oppression which the universe shall see unfolded. And if I could quote but one text of God's Bible, in the ear of every slaveholder in creation, it would be that astound- ing assertion — " When he maketh inquisition for blood he remembereth them." The crisis reached. 125 CHAPTER V. Peter's master prosecitted for abusing him, and fined $500, and put under a bond of $2000 for good behavior — Peter for a long time has a plan for running away, and the girls help him in it — " the big eclipse of 1806" — Peter starts at night to run away, and the girls carry hnn ten miles on his road — the parting scene — travels all night, and next day sleeps in a hollow log in the woods — accosted by a man on the Skoneateles bridge — sleeps in a barn — is discovered — two painters on the road — discovered and pursued — fright- ened by a little girl — encounter with " two black gentlemen with a white ring round their necks" — " Ingens" chase him — " Utica quite a thrifty little place" — hires out nine days — Little Falls — hires out on a boat to go to " Snackady" — makes three trips — is discovered by Morehouse ^r^ — the women help him to escape to Albany — hires out on Trues- dell's sloop — meets master in the street — goes to New York — a reward of $100 offered for him — Capt. comes to take him back to his master, for "one hundred dollars don't grow on every bush" — "feels distressedly" — but Capt. Truesdell promises to protect him, " as long as grass grows and water runs — he follows the river. Author. "Good evening, Peter, — how do you do to nig-ht r" Peter. " Very well ; and how's the Donii- ne?" 11* 126 Death, murder, orfligU. A. *' Pretty well. Take a chair and go ahead with your story." P. " My mind had been made up for years to git out of my trouble, — but I thought I'd wait till spring afore I started. Things had got to sich a state, I see I must either stay and be killed myself, or kill master, or run away ; and I thought 'twould be the best course to run away ; and I wanted good travel! in', and I concluded I'd wait till the movin' was good. In the meantime. Master prosecuted Abers for assaulting him in his own house, and Abers paid the damages ; I don't know how much; and then Abers prosecuted master afore the same court, for abusin' me, on behalf of the state. His whole family was brought forward and sworn, and testified agin' him, and the trial lasted two days. I was brought forward, and had my shirt took off, to show the scars in my meat ; and the judge says, ' Peter, how long did he whip you in the barn ?' And I up and told him the story as straight as I could. Then the lawyers made their pleas on both sides, and the case was submitted to the j ury, and out they went, and stayed half an hour, and brought in a verdict of abuse, even unto murder intent. The judge says, 'how so?' The foreman on Morehouse prosecuted and fined $500 for abusing Peter. 127 the jury says, ' because he thrice attempted to kill him with a rifle.' " Well, his sentence finally was, to pay five hundred dollars damages, or to go to jail till he did ; and be put under bonds of two thousand dollars for good behavior in future. The judge gin him half an hour to decide in ; and he sot and sot till his time was up; and then the judge told the sheriff to take him to jail, and he went to get the hand-cuffs, and put 'em on to master's hands; and the judge says, ^ screw ^em tight ;^ for you see ' master hadn't treated the court v.ith proper respect,' the judge said. I should think he had the cuffs on ten minutes, and then he says, ' I'll pay the money ;' and the sheriff off with the cuffs, and master out with his pocket-book, and counted out the money to the sheriff, and then he gin bail, and so the matter ended. "The judge come to me and says, 'now, Peter, do you be faithful, and if you are abused come to me, and I'll take care of it. " Well, all went home, and arter that mas- ter behaved himself pretty decent towards me, only the gals said he used to say, ' I wish I'd killed the dam nigger, and then I shouldn't have this five hundred dollars to pay.' 128 -^^^ ready to run — big eclipse o/ 1806. *' My whole fare was now better, (t?^ but I still considered myself a slave, c^ and that galled my feelin's, and I determined I'd be free, or die in the cause; for you see, by this time, I'd larned more of the rights of hu- man naiur\ and I felt that I was a man! ! " I had this in contemplation all of three or four years afore I run, and I swore a heap 'bout it tu. The gals had made me a new suit, and had it ready for runnin' a year afore. The gals paid for it, and kept it secret; and so a woman can keep a secret, arter all ; and I had twenty-one dollars, in specie, that I'd been a gettin' for five years, by little and Uttle, fishin' and chorin', and catchin' muskrats, that I kept from master; and I made 'Lecta my banker ; and every copper and sixpence I got I put into her hand, and now I'd got things ready for a start. "Well, the big eclipse, as they called it, come on the 16th of June, 1806, I beheve, and we had curious times, I tell ye. I was in the lot a hoein' corn, and it begun to grow dark, right in the day time, and the birds and whip- poor-wills begun to sing, jist as in the evenin', and the hens run to the roost, and I come to the house; and the folks had smoked-glass Tliegals at midnight help Peter to escape. 129 lookin' through at the sun, and I axed 'em ' what's the matter f' and they said ' the moon is atwixt us and the sun.' "Well, thinks says I, 'that's rale curious.' Master looked at it once, and then sot down and groaned, and fetched some very heavy sighs, and turned pale, and looked solemn ; and there was two or three old Dutch women 'round there that looked distracted ; they hollered and screamed and took on terrihly, and thought the world was a comin' to an eend. Well, I didn't find out the secret of that eclipse, till a sea captain told me, long arter this. I b'lieve this eclipse happened on Tuesday ; and next Sunday night, atwixt twelve and one o'clock, I started, and detarmined that if ever I went back to Gideon Morehouse's, Fdgo a dead man, " We all went to bed as usual, but not to sleep ; and so, 'bout twelve 'clock, I went out as still as I could, and tackled up the old horse and wagon, and oh ! how I felt. I was kind'a glad and kind'a sorry, and my heart patted agin my ribs hard, and I sweat till my old shirt was as wet as sock. So I hitched the horse away from the house, and went in and told the gals, and I fetched out my knapsack that had my new clothes in it, and all on us went out and 130 T/tc partina — resolution — sleeps in a holloit tree, got in and started off. Oh ! I tell ye, the horse didn't creep ; and the gals begins to talk to me and say, ' now, Peter, you must be honest and true, and faithful to every body, and that's the way you'll gain friends;' and 'Lecta says, 'if you work for anybody, be careful to please the women folks, and if the women are on your side, you'll git along well enough.' "Well, we drove ten miles, and come to a gate, and 'twouldn't do for them to go through, and so there we parted ; and they told me to die afore I got catched, — and if I did, not to brhis; ''em out I told them I'd die five times over afore I'd fetch 'em out ; and so 'Lecta took me by the hand and kissed me on the dieek, and I kissed her on the hand, for I thought her face warn't no place for me : and then she squeezes my hand, and says, ' God bless you, Peter;' and Polly did the same, and there was some cryin' on both sides. So I helped 'em off, and as we parted, each one gin me a handsome half-dollar, and I kept one on 'em a good many years ; and, finally, I gin it to my sweet-heart in Santa Cruz, and I guess she's got it yit. " I starts on my journey with a heavy heart, Fobbin' and cryin', for I begun to cry as soon Sleeps in a barn. 131 as I got out of the wagon. I guess I cried all of three hours afore mornin', and I felt so dis- Iressedly 'bout leavin' the gals I almost wished myself back ; but I'd launched out, and I warn't agoin' back alive. "I travelled till daylight, and then, to be undiscovered, I took to the woods, and stayed there all day, a»d eat the food I took along in the knapsack ; and a dreadful thunder-storm come, and I crawled, feet first, into a fell hol- ler old tree, and pulled in my knapsack for a pillar, and had a good sleep; only a part of the time I cried, and when I come out I was very dry, and T lays down and drinks a bellyful of water out of a place made by a crutter's track, and filled by the rain, and on I went till I come to Skaneatales Bridge ; and 'twas now dark, and when I got into the middle, a man comes up and says 'good evenin', Peter.' Well, I stood and says nothin', only I expected my doom was sealed. He says ' you needn't be scart, Peter,' and come to, it was a black man I'd known, and he takes me into his house in the back room, and gin me a good meal. You see I'd seen him a good many times agoin' by there with a team. Arter supper his wife gin me a pair of stockins' and half a dollar, and he 13*2 Sleeps in a ham— fight between two painters. gin me half a loaf of wheat bread, and a hunk of biled bacon, and a silver dollar, and off I started, with a kind of a light heart. I travels all that night till daylight, and grew tired and sleepy ; and on the right side of the road I see a barn, and so I goes in and lies down on the hay, and I'd no sooner struck the mow than I fell asleep. When I woke up the sun was up three hours, and some men were goin' into the field with a team, and that 'woke me up. I looks for a chance to clear, and I sees a piece of woods off about half a mile, and I gits oft'; so the barn hid me from 'em, and I lays my course for these woods, and jist by 'em was a large piece of wheat, and I gits in and was so hid I stays there all day ; and a part of the time I cried, and sat down, and stood up, and whistled, and all that, and it come night, I started out, and travelled till about midnight, and had a plenty to eat yit. " Well, the moon shone bright, and I was travellin' on between two high hills, and the fust thing I hears was the screech of a pain- ter ; and if you'd been there, I guess you'd thought the black boy had turned white. Well, on the other hill was an answer to this one ; and I travelled on, and every now and then, I Travels by niglit — discovered — lies — is pursued. 1^3 beard one holler and t'other answer, but I kept on the move ; and when the moon come out from a cloud it struck on the hill, and I see one on 'em, and bim'bye, both on 'em got to- gether, and sich a time I never see atwixt two live things. Their screeches fairly went through me. Not long arter I come up to a house, and bein' very dry, I turned into the gate to git a drink of water, and I drawled up some, and a big black dog come plungin' out, and in a minute a light was struck up, and out come a man, and hollered to his dog to ' git out ;' and he says to me, ' Good night. Sir : you travel late.' ' Yis, Sir.' ' What's the rea- son V And I had a he all ready, cut and dried. * 3Iy mother lies at the pint of death in the city of New York, and I'm a hastenin' down to see her, to git there if I can afore she dies.' He rather insisted on my comin' in, but I de- clined, and bid him a good night, and passed on my way. I left the road for fear this man might think I was a run-away, and so pursue me ; and on I went to the \voods. I hadn't got fur afore I hears a horse's hoofs clatterin' along the road ; and thinks, says I, ' I'm ahead of you, now, my sweet feller — Pm in the busk.' And so I put on ; and by daylight 134 P^^'*' treated well. I thought I was fur enough off, and I could travel a heap faster in the road, so I put for the road ; and nothin' troubled me till ten o'clock. And as I come along to an old log- house, a little gal come out, and hollers, ' Run, nigger, run, they're arter ye ; you're a rim- away, I know.' I tell you it struck me with surprise, to think how she knew I was a run- away. I says nothin', but she says the same thing agin' ; and on I goes till I come to a turn in the road where I was hid, and I patted the sand nicely for a spell I tell ye. When I got along a while, I run into a bunch of white pines ; and as I slipped along, I come across one of these 'ere black gentlemen with a white ring round his neck, and he riz up and seemed detarmined to have a battle with me. Well, 1 closed in with him, and dispersed him quick, with a club ; and in about four rods I met an- other, and I dispersed him in short order ; and got out into the road, and travelled till night ; and come to a gate, and axed the man if I might sfay zvith him. An Ingen man kept the gate, and a kind of a tavern, tu ; and he says, * yis ;' and I stayed, and was treated ivell, and not a question axed. Well, I axed him how fur 'twas to a village, and he says, * six miles to Meets twenty strappin' Ingens — one chases him. 135 Oneida village,' and says he, ' what be you, an Ingen, or a nigger ?' I says, ' I guess I'm a kind of a mix :' and he put his hand on to my head, and says, ' well, I guess you've got some nigger blood in ye, I guess I shan't charge you but half price,' and so off I starts. Well, soon I come to a parcel of blackberry bushes, and out come an Ingen squaw, and says, * sago ;' and I answers, ' sagole,' that's a kind of a ' how de.' And all along in the bushes was young Ingens, as thick as toads arter a shower, and I was so scart to think what I'd meet next, my hair fairly riz on eend ; and in a minute, right afore me I see a comin' about twenty big, trim, strappin' Ingens, with their rifles, and tomahaAvks, and scalpin' knives, and then I wished I was back in master's old kitchen, for I thought they was arter me ; and I put out and run, and a tall Ingen arter me to scare me, and I run my prettiest for about fifty rods, and then I stubbled my toe agin a stone, and fell my length, heels over head. But, I up and started agin, and then the Ingen stop- ped, and oh ! sich a yelp as he gin, and all on 'em answered him, and off he went and left me, and that made me feel better than bein' in old master's kitchen. 136 Yankee folks — Utica a thrifty little place. " I travels on and comes to a tavern, and got some breakfast of fresh salmon, and had a talk with the landlord's darter, and she was half Ingen, for her father had married an Ingen woman ; and while I was there, up come four big Ingens arter whiskey, and they had no money, and so they left a bunch of skins in pawn till they come back. So I paid him thirty-seven and a half cents and come on. The next time I stopped at a cake and beer shop, and I told the old woman sich a pitiful story, that she gin me all I'd bought and a card of gingerbread to boot, and I come on rejoicin'. They was Yankee folks, and, say what you will, the Yankee folks are fine fellers where ever you meet 'em. " Next place 1 passed was Utica, which was quite a thrifty little place ; but I didn't stop there ; and on a little I got a ride with a team- ster down twenty miles, to a place about six miles west of Little Falls, and there I put up with a man, and he hired me to help him work nine days and a half, and gin me a dollar a day, and paid me the silver, and he owned a black boy by the name of Toney. We called him Tone, and they did abuse him bad enough, poor feller ! he was all scars from head to foot, Journey doum to Snackady— boats it. ] 37 and I slept with him, and he showed me where they'd cut him to pieces with a cat-o'-nine-tails. And it did seem, to look at him, as though he must have been cut up into mince meat, al- most ! !«-£:Q ! ! " Well, I left him, and got down about two miles on my journey, and there lay a Durham boat, aground in the Mohawk River ; and a man aboard hollered to me, to come down, and he axed me if I didn't want to icork mi/ passage down to Snackady. I says, * yis, if ymCll pay me for it! P You see I felt very independent jist now, for I begun to feel my oats a leetle ; and so he agreed to give me twenty shillin's if I would, and so I agreed tu, and went aboard, and glad enough tu of sich a fat chance of git- tin' along. " We come to ' the Falls,' and they was a great curiosity I tell ye ; and we got our boat down 'em, through a canal dug round 'em by five or six locks. Oh ! them falls was a jfine sight — the water a thunderin' along all foam. Well, we had good times a goin' down, and come to Snackady, the man wanted to hire me to go trips with him up and down from Utica, and offered me ten dollars a trip. So we got a load of dry goods and groceries, and 13* 138 Morehouse and the SJteriff enter the house where Peter is, goes back for Utica, and gits there Saturday night. The captain of the boat was John Miinson, and I made three trips with him, and calculated to have made the fourth, but some- thin' turned up that warn't so agreeable. I stayed there Sunday, and Sunday evenin' about seven o'clock, I goes up on the hill with one of the hands, to see some of our colour, and gits back arter a roustin' time about ten o'clock, and as soon as I enters the house, Mrs. Munson says, ' why lord-a-massa Peter, your master has been here arter you, and what shall we do ?' And I was so thunderstruck, I didn't know what to say, or do. And says she, ' you must make your escape the best way you can.' " I goes up stairs and gathers up my clothes, and the women folks comes up tu, and while we was there preparin' my escape, old master and the sheriff comes in below ! and he says to Munson, who lay on the bed, ' I'm a goin' to sarch your house for my nigger ;' and Mun- son rises up and says, ' what the devil do you mean ? away with you out of my house. I knows nothin' about your nigger, nor am I your nigger's keeper — besides, 'afore you sarch my house, you've got to bring a legal sarch- Escapes — travels by niglU to Albany. 139 warrant, and now show it or out of my house, or you'll catch my trotters into your starn, quick tu.' " Well, I darn't listen to hear any thing more, but all a tremblin', says I to the women, * what in the name of distraction shall I do f " Mrs. Munson says, ' I'll go down and swing round the well-sweep, and you jump on, and down head-foremost.' I flings out my bundle, and up comes the well-sweep, and I hopped on, and down I went head foremost, jist Uke a cat, and put out for the river ; and I found Mrs. Munson there with my clothes, for she'd took 'em as soon as she could, and put out with 'em for the river. *And now Peter,' says she ' do you make the best of your way down to Albany, and travel till you git there, and don't you git catched ; and so I off, arter thankin' Mrs. Munson, and I wanted to thank Mr. Munson tu, for his management, but I couldn't spend the time, and I moved some tu ; and I got down to Albany by one o'clock at night, and there lay a sloop right agin' the wharf, alongside the old stage tav- ern ; and as I was a wanderin' along by it, there seemed to be a colored man standin' on deck, 'bout fifty years old, and his head was 140 Finds protection on board a vessel iyi the river. most as white as flax, and says he as he hails me, * where you travellin' tii, my son ?' I says, * I'm bound for New York,' and I out with my old lie agin 'bout my mother. You see that lie was like some minister's sarmints, that goes round the country and preaches the same old sarmint till it's threadbare — but it sarved my turn. * Come aboard my son, and take some refreshments ;' and so I goes down into the cabin, and I feels kind'a guilty, sorry, and hungry, and my feet was sore, for I'd walked bare-foot from Snackady ; and if you did but know it, it was a dreadful sandy road, but I wanted no shoes 'bout me that night. Well, pretty soon my meal was ready, and I had a good cup of coffee, and ham, and eggs, and arter that, says he, * now lay down in my berth ;' and I laid down, and in two minutes I got fast to sleep, and the first I knew old master had me by the nape of the neck, and called for some one to help him, and he had a big chain, and he begins to bind me and I sings out, ' murder,' as loud as I could scream, and the old gentleman comes to the berth, and says, ' what's the matter my son ?' and I woke np, and 'twas a dreamy and I was so weak I couldn't hardly speak, and I was cryin' and Pclefs dream, 141 my shirt was as wet as a drownded rat ^ and the old man says, ' why, what's the matter, Peter ? you're as w^iite as a sheet.' ' I says, * nothin' only a dream ;' and says he, * try to git some sleep my son, nobody shan't hurt you.' And so I catches kind' a cat-naps, and then the old man would chase me, and I run into the woods; and three or four men was arter me on white horses, and I run into a muddy slough, and jumped from bog to bog, and slump into my knees in the mud, and I'd worry and worry to git through, and at last I did ; and then I had to cross a river to git out of their way, and I swum across it, and it was a pure crystal stream, and I could see gold stones and little fish on the bottom. Well, I got to the bank and sets down, and they couldn't git to me, and I had a good quiet sleep. Finally, the old man comes to me, and says, ' come, my son, git up and eat some breakfast. And I up, and the sun was an hour high, and more tu. I washes me, and we had some stewed eels and coffee ; and we eat alone, for all the hands and captain was a spendin' the night among their friends ashore. And the old man begins to question me out whether I warn't a run-away, and I rother denied it in the first place ; and he says, 142 Hires out aboard Captain TruesdeWs vessel. * you needn't be afeard of me. You're a run- away, and if you'll tell me your story, I'll help you.' So I up and told him my whole story, and he says, ' I know'd you was a run-away when you come aboard last night, for I was once a slave myself, and now arter breakfast you go with me, and I'll show you a good safe place to go and be a cook.' " So we walked along on the dock, and says he, ' there comes the Samson, Captain John Truesdell, I guess he wants you, for I under- stood his cook left him in Troy.' " So the Samson rounded up nigh our'n, and the captain jumps ashore, and says he, * boy do you want a berth ?' and I touches my hat, and says, * yis. Sir.' And he says, * can you roast, bake, and bile, &c. f I says, 'I guess so.' ' Can you reef a line of veal, and cook a taterf 'Yis, Sir, all that.' 'Well, you are jist the boy I want ; ' what do you ask a month ?' I says, ' I don't know :' but I'd a gone with him if he hadn't agin me a skinned sixpence a month. Well, he looks at me, and slaps me on the shoulder, and says he, 'you look like a square-built clever feller, — I'll give you eight dollars a month.' *'This colored man looks at me and shakes Master again — sails doicn the river. \ 43 his head, and holds up all hands, and fingers, and thumbs, and that's ten you know. So I axed him ten dollars a month. And says he, * I'll give it ;' and my heart jumps up into my mouth. And he claps his hand into his pocket, and took out three dollars, and says he, ' now go up to the market and git two quarters veal, and six shillin' loaves of bread, and here's the market basket.' Well, I thought it kind'a strange that he should trust me, cause I was a stranger ; but I found out arter this, a follow- in' the seas, that it was the natur' of sailors to be trusty. Well, I off to the market, and I goes up State-street and looked across on 'tother side, and who should I see but Master and the Sheriff, a comin' down ; so I pulls my tarpaulin hat over my eyes, for I'd got all rig- ged out with a sailor suit on the Mohawk, and I spurs up, and the grass didn't grow under my feet any nother. I does my business, and hastens back as fast as possible, and got aboard, and the captain made loose, and bore away into the wind, and made all fast ; and the sails filled, and down the river we went like a bird. A stiff breeze aft, and I was on deck, for I wanted to see, and the captain comes along and says, * boy, you'd better be- X44 -^w" aground — distressing appreJiensions. low,' and down I went. Well, we run under that breeze down to the overslaugh, and got aground, and then my joy was turned into sorrow. The captain says to me, ' boy, you keep ship while I and the hands go back and git a lighter, or we shan't git off in a week ; and he takes all hands into the jolly boat and starts for the city again. Arter they'd gone I wanders up and down in the ship, and cried, and thought this runnin' aground was all done a purpose to catch me ; and 1 goes down into the cabin and ties all my clothes up in a snug bundle, and goes into the aft cabin, and opens the larboard window, and made up my mind that if I see any body come that looked suspici- ous, I'd take to the water. Well, afore long, I see the jolly boat a comin' down the river, and every time the oars struck she almost riz out of the water. Three men on a side and the captain sot steer- in' and as she draws nic^her and ni^Tf-her I draws myself into a smaller compass, for I was afeard master was aboard that boat. Well, she comes alongside, but thanks to God no master in that boat. " The captain comes on deck and says with Gideon Morehouse goes aboard Peters ship. 145 a smile, ' Peter, you may git dinner now.* So I goes and gits a good dinner, for I understood cookin' pretty well, and they eats, and I tu, and then I clears off the table, and washes the dishes, and sweeps the cabin, and goes on deck. And sees a lighter comin' down the river, and she rounded up and come alongside, and we made fast, and up hatches and took out the wheat, and worked till evenin', and then she swung off; and by mornin' we'd got all the freight aboard, and we discharged the lighter and highted all sail, and the wind was strong aft, and we lowered sail no more till we landed in New York, and that was the next day at evenin'. *'Well, the second night arter this, the cap- * What a cheerful air hnnjs^s around the path of liberty ! I was once reading this page to a warm- hearted and benevolent Abolitionist, and when I came to this speech of the captain, he burst into tears as he exclaimed, " Oh, wliat a change in that boy's existence ! It seems to me that such kindness must almost have broken his heart. Oh ! a man must have a bad heart not to desire to see every yoke broken, and all the oppressed go free." 13 1 46 Gideon Morehouse goes aboard Peter's ship. tain come down into the cabin, and says he, * Peter I've got a story for you. ' Well,' says I, *I wants to hear it, Sir.' * Well last night there was a small man from Cayuga county, by the name of Gideon Morehouse ,^ come aboard my sloop, and says, "you've got my nigger concealed aboard your ship, and I've got authority to sarch your vessel; * and he sarched my vessel and every body and every- thing in it, and by good luck ^oa was ashore, or he'd a had you ; for you must be the boy by description.' " Now I was on the poise whether to tell the truth or not ; but I was rather constrained to lie; but the captain says, 'tell me the truth, Peter, for t'will be better for you in the eend ; so I u.p and told him my whole story, as straight as a compass, and long as a string. " ' Weir says he, ' be a good boy, and I'll take care on you.' So we stayed in New York a few days, and back to Albany, and started for New York agin and we had fourteen pret- ty genteel passengers, and the captain says, ' now Peter be very attentive to 'em and you'll git a good many presents from 'em.' ' So I cleaned their boots and waited on 'em, and when I ffot to York I carried their baggage $100 reward offered for Peter— prepares to go hack. 147 round the city, and when I got to the sloop I counted my money, and had six dollars fifty cents, jist for bein' polite, and it's jist as easy to be polite as any way. " Well, the next mornin' the captain comes to me about daylight, and hollers, * up nig, there's a present for you on deck,' " So I hops up in great haste and there was stuck on the sign of the vessel, an adver- tisement, and ' reward of one hundred dollars, and all charges paid for catchin' a large bull- eyed Negro, &c.' The captain reads that to me, and says very seriously, ' Peter that's a great reward. You run dow^n in the cabin and git your breakfast, I must have that hundred dollars ; for one hundred dollars don't grow on every bush.' " Well, I started and w^ent down, a sobbin' and cryin' to get breakfast, and calls the cap- tain down to eat, and he sets down and says he, *Peter ain't you agoin' to set down and eat somethin' ? it will be the last breakfast you'll eat with us.' " I says with a very heavy heart, ' no Sir, I wants no breakfast.' Arter breakfast says he, 'now clear off the table, and do up all your things nice and scour your brasses, so that X48 Captain thinks he must have the reward. when I get another cook he shan't say you was a dirty feller.' So I goes and obeys all his or- ders, and I shed some tears tu, I tell ye ; and then I set down and had a regular-built cryin' spell, and then the captain comes down and says, ' you done all your work up nicely ?' * Yis Sir,' ' well, now go and tie up all your clothes.' So I did, and I cried louder than ever about it, and he says, ' I guess you han't got 'em all have ye ?' So he unties my bun- dle, and takes all on 'em out one by one, and lays 'em in the berth, and I cried so you could hear me to the forecastle ; and finally he turns to me a pleasant look and says, ' Peter put up your clothes ; I've no idea of takin' you back, I've done this only to try you ; and now I tell 5'ou on the honor of a man, as long as you stay with me, and be as faithful as you have been, nobody shall take you away from me alive ; and then I cries ten times worse than ever, I loved the captain so hard. But a mountain rolled off on me, for I tell you to be took right away in the bloom of hberty, arter I'd toiled so hard to git it, and then have all my hopes crushed in a minute, I tell you for awhile I had mor'n I could waller under. But when I got acquainted with the captain, I found him a Glorious nature of liberty. £49 rale abolitionist, for he'd fight for a black man any time, and Q^ Oh ! how he did hate sla- very : c:^ but then he kind'a loved to run on a body, and then make 'em feel good agin, and he was always a cuttin' up some sich caper as this ; but he w as a noble man and I love him yit. " Now I felt that I was raly free ,jy^ al- though I knew Morehouse was a lurkin' round arter me : and arter this I called no man master, but I knew how to treat my betters. I now begun to d?' feel somethin' like a man, ._£]0 and the dignity of a human heiiH begun to creep over me, and I enjoyed my liberty when C got it, I can tell you. I didn't go asneakin' round, and spirit-broken, as I know every man must, if he's a slave ; but CC?^ I couldn't help standin' up straight, arter I knew I was free. ^TSs Oh ! what a glorious feelin' that is ! and oh ! how I pitied my poor brethren and sis- ters, that was in chains. I used to set down and think about it, and cry by the hour ; and when I git to thinkin' about it now, I wonder how any good folks, and specially christian peo- ple, can hate abolitionists..,^ I think it must be owin' to one of two things ; either they don't know the horrors or miseries of a slave's 13* 3 50 Prospecti, of the slaves — close of the book. life, or they can't have much feelin' ; for the anti-slavery society is the only society I know on, that professes to try to set 'em all free ; for you know the colonization folks have give up the idee long ago, that they can do any thing of any amount that way ; and so they say they are agoin' to enlighten Africa. And I can't for the life on me see how the abolitionists is so persecuted ; it's raly wonderful ! ar- ture is unnoticed, except by a few who loved him in life, and are glad when his pilgrimage is over. The spirit flies, " no marble tells us whither ;" and he is forgotten, and only a few like himself know that he ever existed in a green and beautiful world. But *' a soul is a deathless thing," and that soul shall speak at the last judgment day ! It shall tell its tale of blood to an assembled universe, and that universe shall pronounce the doom of its mur- derer. .-/][) In forecasting the proceedings of the last day, I tremble to think I shall be one of its spectators ; not because I shall be tried j for I humbly trust I shall have an advocate there, whose plea the Judge will accept, and whose robe of complete righteousness shall mantle my naked spirit. But the revelations of that solemn tribunal, which millions of en- slaved Africans shall unfold, will make the universe turn pale. And I should feel a de- sire to withdraw behind the throne, till the sentence had been passed upon all buyers, and sellers, and owners, of the image of the Om- nipotent Judge, and executed ; did I not wish i54 ^^'^ glorious influence of freedom on man. to behold all the scenes of that great day, and mingle my sympathies with all the fortunes of that Throne, For, as I expect to stand among that mighty company, who shall cluster around the Judgment Seat, I do believe, that God's Book icill contain no page so dark with rebellion and crime, as that ivhich records the story of American Slavery! And yet I believe that that Book will embrace the history of the whole creation. VI. We see the glorious and hallowed in- fluence of freedom upon man : — No sooner had Peter escaped from chains, than he began to emerge from degradation into the dignity of a human being. He breathed an inspiring and ennobling atmosphere ; he felt the greatness and glory of immortal existence steal over him, and his soul, which had been shrouded in darkness, begun to lift itself up from a moral sepulchre, and feel the life-giving energy of a resurrection from despair. It must have been so, for man's element is freedom, and it cannot live in any other ; deprived of its necessary element, it will languish and die. While I am writing this paragra[>h, Peter Wheeler comes into my room, and we will hear his own testimony ; he says, " Arter I'd got my What freedom did for Peter. \Q[ liberty, I felt as though I was in a new icorld ; although I suffered, for a while, a good deal, with fear of being catched. "When I look back, and think how much I suffered by bein' beat, and banged, and whipt, and starved ; and then my feelin's arter I got free, when I held up my head among men, and nobody pinted at me when I went by and said, ' there goes this man's nigger, or that man's nigger ;' why, I can't describe how I felt for two or three years. I was almost crazy with joy. What I got for work was my oiv?i, and if I had a dollar, I would slap my hand on my pocket and say, ' thafs my own;'' and if I haul- ed out my turnip, why it ticked for me and not for master, and 'twas mine tu when it ticked. And I bought clothes, and good ones, and my own amines paid for 'em. In fact, I breathed, and thought, and acted, all different, and it was almost like what a person feels when he is changed from darkness into light. Besides, when gentlemen and ladies put a handle to my name, and called me Mr. Wheeler^ vvhy, for months I felt odd enough ; for you see a slave han't got no name only * nig,' or ' cuss,' or ' skunk,' or ' cuffee,' or ' darkey ;' and then, besides, I was treated like a man. And if you 166 T^tc, effect of freedom upon Peter. show any body any kindness, or attention, or good will, you improve their characters, for you make them respect you, and themselves, and the whole human race a sight more than ever. Why, respect and kindness lifts up any body or thing. Even the beast or dog, if you show 'em a kindness, they never will forgit it, and they'll strut and show pride in treatin' on you well ; and pity if man is of sich a natur' that he ain't as noble as that, then I give it up. Why, arter I come to myself, and I would git up and find all the family as pleasant as could be, and I would go out and look, and see the sun rise, and hear the birds sing, and I felt so joyful that I fairly thought my heart would leap out of my body, and I would turn on my heel and ask myself ' is this Peter Wheeler, or ain't it ? and if 'tis me, why how changed I be.' I felt as a body would arter a long sick- ness, when they first got able to be out, and felt a light mornin' breeze comin' on 'em, and a fresh, cool kind of a feelin' comin' over 'em ; and they would think they never see any thing, or felt any thing afore, for all seemed brighter and more gloriouser than ever ; and oh ! it does seem to me that no Christian people in the world can help v/antin' to see all free, for Prejudice agbi' color at the bottom. 167 Christians love to see all God's crutters happy. VII. "I b'lieve that one of the wickedest and most awful things in creation, and the root, and bottom, and heart of all the evil, is preju- dice agin' color.' «^ There is most, or quite as much of this at the North as there is at the South, for I can speak from experience. There is that disgrace upon us, that many people think It's a disgrace to 'em to have us come into a room where they be, for fear that they will be blacked, or disgraced, or stunk up by us poor off-scourin' of 'arth. And if I come into a room with a sarver of tea, coffee, rum, wine, or sich like, they can't smell any thing ; but jist the second I set down on an equal with 'em, as one of the company, they pretend they can smell me. But, worse than this, this same disgrace is cast on our color in the Sanctuary of the Living God. In enemost all the meetin' houses, you see the ' nigger pew ;' and when they come to administer the Lord's Supper, they send us off into some dark pew, in one corner, by ourselves, as though they thought we would disgrace 'em, and stink 'em up, or black 'em, or somethin.' Why, 'twas only at the last Sacrament in our Church this took olace. IGS Slavery at a Northern communian table. All communicants was axed to come and par- take together, and I come down from the gal- lery, and as I come into the door, to go and set down among 'em ; one of the elders stretch- ed out his arm, with an air of disdain, and beckoned me away to a corner pew, where there was no soul within two or three pews on me, as though he had power to save or cast off. Now think what a struggle I had, when I sot down, to git my mind into a proper state for the solemn business I was agoin to do. "First, I thought it was hard for me to be so cast off by my brethren in the church, and a feeUn' riz, and I fit agin' it, and, finally, I thought I could submit to my fate; and I be- lieved God could see me, and hear my cry, and accept my love, as well there as though I sot in the midst on 'em. And it is the strangest thing in the world, too, that Christian people can act so. There must be some of the love of Chris- tianity wantin' in their hearts, or they could not treat a brother in Christ in that way. As I sot there, I thought, - can there be any sicb place as a dark-hole, or black pew, or behind the door, or under the fence, in heaven ? If there is sich a spirit or policy there, I don't feel very Slavery vi Northern graveyards. J 69 anxious desire to go there.' The bible says, * God is no respecter of persons. '^^^DO "And what is worse than all, this spirit is carried to the graveyard ; and for fear that the dead body of a black man shall black up or disgrace the body of a white, they go and dig holes round under the fences, and off in a wet corner, or under the barn, and put all of our colour in 'em ; for every one may be an eye- witness if he'll go to our graveyard and others ; for I have lived now goin' on fourteen years in one place, and any colored person who has been buried at all there, has been buried all along under the fences, and close up to the old barn that stands there. I know God will re- ceive the souls of sich, jist as well as though they was buried in the middle of the yard, but I say this, to let the reader know what a cruel and unholy thing prejudice agin color is, and what it will do to us poor black people. " Now I know that all this is the reason why the people of our colour don't rise any faster. The scorn, the disgrace that every body flings on 'em, keeps 'em down, and they are sinkin', and such treatment is enough to sink the Rocky mountains. " Now I know from experience, that the 15 170 Slavery at the South, and prejudice at the North. better you treat a black man the better he will behave ; for his own pride will keep his ambi- tion up, and he'll try to rise; why if you should treat white folks so they'd grow bad jist as fast. Why, who don't know that a body will try to git the good will of those who treat 'em well, so as to make 'em respect 'em still more ? And it's jist like chmbin' a ladder; you'll git up a round any day, but if you keep a knock- in' a man on the head with the club of preju- dice, how in the name of common sense can he climb up. " Now this is most as bad as slavery ; ^^ for slavery keeps the foot on the black man's neck all the time, and don't let 'em rise at all ; and prejudice keeps a knockin' on him down as fast as he gits up ; and we ought not to go to the South, till we can git the people of the North to treat our color like men and women. A good many people oppose abolitionists, and say, * why what will you do with the niggers when they are free ? They will become drun- ken sots and vagabonds like our niggers at the North ; why don't thei/ rise ?' I can answer that question in a hurry ! The reason is, be- cause they don't give us the same chance with white folks ; they won't take us into their Give colored folks a chance. 171 schools and colleges, and seminaries, and we don't be allowed to go into good society to im- prove us ; and if we set up business they won't patronize us ; they want us to be bar- bers, and cooks and whitewashers and shoe- blacks and ostlers, camp-cuUimen, and sich kind of mean low business. We ain't suffered to attend any pleasant places, or enjoy the ad- vantages of debating schools and libraries, and societies, prayer I ever heard afore or since, and she made a beautiful address to us, and she did talk enough to move the heart of a stone, and with tears in her eyes ; and she reproved us for ^weariti' so. And while she was a talkin' and prayin' so, there lay the like of that beautiful boy cold in death, and I tell ye it made us cry some dLudfcel a good deal. Well we made as though we put Henry in that sack, and put him on the plank, and let him slide off into the ocean, and when he sunk it seemed as though my heart went into the sea arter him. " Well the spot where his brains lay there on the deck, stayed there as long as I stayed aboard that ship ; and I used to stand there and watch it at evenin', and cry and cry; and I guess if all the tears I shed had been catched, they'd a filled a quart cup ; but I couldn't help it, for he was a noble boy, and I loved him like a brother. But we sailed on and left Henry behind us, and the thoughts on him sometimes checked our glee and sin, but only for a little while, and all on board soon forgot him, only me. But oh ! how I did love that boy.c^ "Well we made Gibralter in thirty-six days from New York, and as we lowered sail and cast anchor under the old fort, they fired six 18 206 Tears over Henry's memory — old Gihr alter. cannon over our mast, and the English officer comes aboard, and three of his aids, and the ship and cargo and all her writings was ex- amined, and findin' all right side up, he gin us permission to come ashore and do business ; and the governor bought our load of provisions for the navy sarvice, and we got an extra price 'case 'twas scarce ; and while we lay there, there was four English gun-ships of the line come in freighted with soldiers from Plymouth, in England, and they was under the convoy of Admiral Emmons; and they left their soldiers and took some on the rock, and when they come in sight, if there warn't some music and some smoke. All the instruments used in the English navy was played on the ships, and they fired gun arter gun, from the ships to the fort, and the fort to the ships, and every round they fired, they beat the English revelie, and oh ! how them cannon shook the ship under us, and the smoke was so thick, you could fairly cut it ; and so they kept it up, and I tell ye they had jolly times enough. *' Next day they begun to land their recruits, rank and file by companies, and as one compa- ny from the ship marched up the rock to the top of the fort, another company from the rock Music and smoke from the old fort. ^07 would march down aboard the ship, and in this way we see a heap on 'em landed and shipped. And there stood the Royal band all day in plain sight ; and they was all colored folks, and thei/ felt good tu, and every time they landed they'd fire a broadside from the fort, and shelter 'em with smoke; and every time a company of the fort's soldiers come aboard the ship, they'd co- ver 'em with smoke ; and put it all together, it was by all odds the handsomest sight I ever see in my travels. *' Well, two days arter this, 'bout nine o'clock in the morning, the cannon begun to blaze away from the old fort agin', and we concluded we was agoin' to have some more doin's, and I up on deck and looked and looked, and bim'by I see a large frigate comin' up leadin' four merchantmen with flying colors, and she blazed back agin', and when she got into the harbor, the seventy-fours in port open- ed their mouths agin', and so we had it pretty lively. *' These merchantmen were loaded with provisions for the navy ; oh ! what a heap of folks there was in that Rock ! ! Our captain says * boys, they've bought our cargo, but I don't s'pose 'twould make a mouthful apiece 208 -^ ghnce at the war of the peninstda. for 'em.' And what an expensive establishment that English army and navy is ! *' We stayed there at the Rock a good while, and these merchant vessels went out under the the protection of these navy ships, to victual the English fleet there ; and we heard a good deal 'bout Napoleon and Lord Welhngton. They was all the talk, and Wellington was all the toast ; and their armies was a shakin' the whole 'arth, and ships and armies agoin' and comin' all the time ; and there Lord Nelson, he was at the head of the English navy, and he was a great toast ; and every day the papers would come and fetch stories of battles on land and at sea, till I was as sick on 'em as I could be. It seemed to be nothin' but a story of blood all the time ; and Europe and all the ocean was only jist a great buryin' and murderin' ground ; and, for my part, I never thought much of these 'ere great wholesale murderers, as I calls Bonaparte, Wellington, and Lord Nelson, and sich like sort of fellers. Why, Domine, I should think, from all accounts I heard at the time, and arter it, that they must have killed all of five miUions of folks, in all that fightin' agin Napoleon. Oh! it's a cruel piece of business to butcher folks so • and yit, nevertheless, notwithstanding, them Port Antonio — a slaver — board her. 209 same men ivas toasted, and 6e-toasted now all over the world, and it makes me sick of human natur' ; and if I am a black man, I hate to see respectable people act so. "Finally, arter a long stay, we hauled up anchor for Port Antonio. One day a man aloft cries out ' ship ahoy.' The captain looks through his big glass and says, ' bear down on her helmsman ;' and when we got nigh 'nough, the captain hails her ; ' what ship f *' ' Torpedo.' " 'What captain?' " ' Trumbull.' " ' Where from f *' ' African coast.' " ' Where bound ?' " * America.' '* * Can I come on board you .^' *' * Yes.' *' So he bears down and lays too, and I, 'mong the rest, went aboard. The captain treats us very genteel ; and when they'd finished drinkin' Captain Trumbull orders the hatch open, and I looked down, and to my sad sur- prise I see 'twas crowded with slaves. The first thing I see was a colored female, as naked as she was born into the world, and she looked up 18» 210 -4 description of a slave ship. at me with a pitiful look ; and an iron band went round her leg, and then she was locked to an iron bolt that went from one eend of the ship to the other ; and there was Jive hundred slaves doicn in that hole; men, women, and children, all chained down there, and among 'em all not one had a rag of clothes on, — and not a bit of daylight entered, only that hatch- way, and then only when they opened it to throw out the dead ones, or else feed 'em ; and when I put my head over the hole, a steam come out strong 'nough to knock down a horse, for there they was in their own filth, and oh ! how they did smell. There was several wo- men that had jist had children, and a good many sick, and there they was, and oh I what a sight, — some on 'em was cryin' and talkin' among themselves, but I couldn't understand a word they said ; and there was a parcel of leetle fellers, that was from two to ten years old, a runnin' round 'mong 'em, and some on 'em was dead, and you could hear the dpjt' groans of others. Oh! I never did think a body of folks could suffer so and live. Why, how do you think they sat ? They all sat down with their legs straddled out right up close agin' one another, and they couldn't stir only one arm and hand, ybr all else was chained. 800 slaves — a wake of bbodfor 1500 miles. 211 " I felt worse, I *spose, and it was entirely more heart-rendin' to me, because they was my own species; they warn't only human bein's but Africans. ^^ Oh ! if I didn't hate sla- very arter this worse than ever ; why ! it seemed to me a thousand times worse than it ever did afore, when I was a slave myself. " Well, the captain said he started with eight hundred, and three hundred had died on the v'yge!.,,/^ and he'd only been out ten days, and that's mor'n one an hour; and that he had to keep one hand in there nigh upon half the time, to knock off the chains from the dead ones, and pitch 'em upon deck ; and, says he, I have left a wake of blood fifteen hundred miles ; for, no sooner than I fling one out than a shark flies at him and colors all the water with blood in less than one minute ; why, says he, ' a shoal of sharks follows our slave ships clear from Africa to America ! !' Oh! my soul, if there is one kind of wickedness greater , ami worsevj and viler, and more devilish and cusseder than any other, it is sich business. „/][) " The slave captain asked our captain if he thought he could git into America? He told him he didn't think he could. ' How long do 212 Captain Bainhndge's advice to the slave captain you calculate to be in that business?' says Cap- tain Bainbridge.' "I can't tell, Sir.' *"Well,' Sir, says our captain, as he left the ship, ' I advise you to clear up your ship when you git into port, and quit that cussed traffic, and go aboard a merchantman, and be a gentle- man.' * And he didn't like it nother' ! t Well, we left, and boarded our own ship ; but that scene of blood I couldn't forgit ! I could see them poor crutters, for a good many days, in my thoughts and dreams ; and sometimes I could see 'em jist as fresh and sorrowful as ever. Hundreds and hundreds of poor slaves, now at the South, are their descendants ; and, like enough, you see some on 'em Mr. L. , when you was at the South; and I know how to pity the descendants of them that's fetched over in slave ships, for one of my grandfathers was * All over the world slavery, in all its forms, is repugnant and offensive to noble and generous feeling : and every where, in all ages and nations, oppression and this unholy traffic meet witii a just rebuke. Man's better feeling will revolt from crueltv and injustice until they are extinguished. t Of course he didn't "like it." It never did please the devil to be reproved of his evil deeds. It don't please Southern •oul-dealers and soul-drivers to be rebuked. Make Antonio — sail for Amsterdam. 213 fetched out in one, as I told you in the begin- nin' on my story. *' Well, we made Port Antonio in three weeks, and stayed there thirteen days, and got a cargo, and then the captain says 'boys, we shall have a rough passage home, if we go this fall, it's so late, for we stayed a good while over the brine, and now who will hold up hands for staying till next spring ?' *' So all on us up with both hands, and we hauled up anchor for Amsterdam — that's in the Dutch country — and we made port in four weeks ; and when we'd been there 'bout a fort- night, the captain got a letter from his uncle, James Bainbridge, who was in Bristol, and wanted him to come there and winter with him, for he was a sea captain, tu. So he leaves his ship in our hands, and makes the first mate captain, and we had to obey all his orders ; and the captain starts and says, ' farewell boys, keep ship safe till you see me, and I'll write to ye often, and let 3'ou know how I cut my jib.' And we see no more on him till airly next spring. " Well, we had all the fun on shore and aboard we could ask for. White and black, we was all hail fellers, well met. We used to have a heap of visiters aboard, to hear 'bout 214 JVinter amusements among the Dutchmen. America. We'd have an interpreter to tell our stories, and almost make some of them smoking, thick-skulled Dutchmen b'lieve that America flowed with milk and honey, and that pigs run 'round the streets here with knives and forks in their backs, cryin' out ' eat me.' I used to be a pretty slick darkey for fixin' out a story, tu, and a big one 'bout America ; and then some white man would set by my side and put the edge on, and 'twould go without any greasin'; and the captain used to say, always, that if any deviltry was agoin' on, Pete was always sure to have a finger in the pie. Well, we used to talk a considerable 'bout the wars they was a havin' in the old countries, at that time, and they said they could take us up to a place, a few miles from there, where there had been a great battle, sometime afore ; and for curiosity, we all went up to see it. Well, we goes, and finds thirty or forty acres, and there wasn't a green thing on it, and 'twas covered with bones and skulls, and all kinds of balls and spikes, and bayonets, and whole heaps of bones, and I guess you never see so melancholy a place in all your life. Oh ! it made me sick of war to see thousands and thousands of hu- man bein's a bleachin' on the sand. And it Napoleon — Peter knocked overboard. 215 seemed that the ground where that battle was fit, wouldn't let any green thing grow there, and I don't b'lieve any green thing grows there till this day. And there we was, a hearin' every day 'bout Bonaparte, and his killin' his thousands, and his takin' this city and that city, and his conquerin' this gineral and that gineral ; but Lord Wellington give him a tough heat on the land, and Lord Nelson on the sea ; but the world see terrible sorry times for a few years, while that Napoleon was a runnin' his career. " Well, captain got back to Amsterdam the first of April, and on the fourteenth we weigh- ed anchor for New York. Well, come the sixth day I guess, at evenin' arter I'd done all my work, and was a settin' on the railin' roth- er carelessly, the boom jibed and struck me on the top of my head, and the first I knew I was pitched head first into the brine. I fell into the wake and swum as fast as I could, and when I riz on the wave I could see the ship and her lights, and then when I went down in the troughs I lost sight of her, and I begun to feel kind'a streakish I tell ye. But pretty soon a rope struck me on the head, and I grabbed and hung on, and the hands aboard drew, and 216 Fourth of July in Ncic York. finally I got up pretty near, and the first I knew, and 'bout the last I knew, a wave come and plunged me head first right agin the starn, and that made all jar agin' and I see mor'u fifty tliousand stars; but I hung on, and they drawed me up aboard, and when I come fairly tu, the captain comes along and says : — u I ]>,'jg ? where you ben ?' *' ' Ben a fishin'. Sir.' *' ' Yis, and if you'd come across a good shark, you'd catched a nice fish wouldn't you ?' *' And when he spoke 'bout that, it scart me, for I begun to realize my danger, and I begun to be afeard when 'twas tu late, and I trembled jist like a leaf. " But I'll hurry on. We made the New York light after a long v'yge, and was kept on quarantine a good while, and on the mornin' of the fourth of July, when the bells was a ringin', and the boats was a flyin' through the bay, and the guns from the Battery and Hobo- ken was a soundin' along the bosom of the Hudson, all independence ; and we landed and jumped ashore, and I think I never in all my life felt sich a kind of a gush of joy rush through all my soul, as I did when I heard them bells ring, and them guns roar; and this free nigger P tier sails for West Indies. 217 jumped ashore and celebrated independence as loud as any body. " The captain paid us all off, and as I left him, I said I'd never go to sea agin, but that didn't make it so ; for I hadn't been ashore a month, afore I vvas off agin with Captain George Thomson. Then I had five hundred dollars — three hundred Spanish mill dollars, and two hundred on the Manhattan Bank, and I had as good a wardrobe of clothes, both citi- zen's and sailor's as any other feller. Captain Thomson finds out I'd got this money, and says he, ' you better not be a lugging your mo- ney round from port, let it out and git the in- terest on it ;' and so he showed me a rich man, Mr. Leacraft, that wanted it, and he gin me two notes of two hundred and fifty dollars, for one and two years, and I counted out my mo- ney ; and we sailed for the West Indies. Well, we got there and took in a heavy cargo of gro- ceries, and 'bout for home. But 'twas late in the season, and we had cold blusterin' weather, and finally it grew so cold the rain froze on the riggin' ; and the captain says, ' we can't make New York,' and the mate says, ' we can ; and so we sailed on till we made the New York light, and we was all covered with 19 218 Disappointment — Peter loses $500 — his all. ice ; and the captain says, *boys we shall git stove to pieces, for we can't manage our rig- gin', and we must put back.' So we did, into a warmer climate, and in two or three days the riggin' grew limber, and the ice all drop- ped off, and it grew warmer and warmer, till at last we was in a region like our Ingen summer. " Well, we'd been out a week, and Cap- tain Woods, north from Bristol hailed us, and asked how the entrance was to T^ew York. Our captain told him he couldn't get in, but he swore he would, and on he sailed, and he'd been gone ten days, and he come back a cus- sin' and swearin', and had three of his men froze to death. We stay'd out four weeks longer, and was nearly out of provisions, and obliged to make port ; and it moderated a leetle, and finally, arter some trouble, we reached home, and a gladder set of fellers you never did see. " Well, we got paid off, and I jumped ashore, and says I, * I'll stay here now ; and here's what's off to Lady Rylander's, and the rest of the season I'll play the gentleman, for I'm sick of the brine, and I've got money enough to make a dash in the world.' I'd no His gricf—icrong step. 219 sooner got ashore, than a friend of mine comes lip, and says, 'Pete, you've lost all your mo- ney.' * That can't be possible,' says I. ' Yis, Pete, Leacraft is twenty thousand dollars worse than nothin'. Well, I was thunder- struck, and goes up to see him. Leacraft says, ' to be sure I am Peter, all broke down ; but if God spares my life, you shall have every dollar that's your due.' " But up to this hour Ihavn't got a cent on it. Captain Thomson tried and tried to git it for me, but all to no purpose; and I grieved and passed sorrowful days and nights I tell ye ; for I'd worked in heat and cold, and in all climates and countries for it, and thought now I should be able to begin life right, and 'twas all struck from me at a blow, and 'twas almost like takin' life I tell ye. "And now I 'spose I took a wrong step. — One day I was in a grog shop with some of my companions, and I took a wicked oath, and flung down my money on the counter to pay for our wine, and says I, * hereafter, no man shall run away with the price of my labor, and if I have ten dollars, Fll spend, here she goes,' and down went my rhino, and in ten days I had spent all the pay of my last v'yge j and then I 220 Sails for Gibraltar. goes to Madam Rylander and hires out for sixteen dollars a month as her body sarvant. Not a finer lady ever set foot in Broadway ; and she was as pleasant as the noonday sun, and if her sarvants did wrong, she'd call 'em up and discharge 'em, all pleasant, but firm ; and she'd encourage me to be economical and good, and I liked her, but I hadn't got my fill of the brine yit, and so I thought I'd out on the waves agin. You see I'd been a slave so long that I was jist like a bird let out of her cage, and I couldn't be satisfied without I was a flyin' all the time, and besides there was great talk about a war with John Bull, and I liked it all the better for that ; and so I told Lady Rylander I must be oflT, and she offered me higher wages, but all that wouldn't do ; I was bound for the brine and must go. " I hired out to Captain Williams agin, as steward, for thirty-one dollars a month; and we weighed anchor for St. Domingo ; and we took a load of goods from there and started for the Rock of Gibralter once more. On our pas- sage, we was overhauled by an equinoctial storm, and we had a distressed bad time, and it did seem that we must go to the bottom for days. Wc fell in with a fleet of thirty-seven TAe Tempest. 221 sail from the West Indies, under the convoy of two English frigates, for London. You see these ships was merchantmen, and the Eng- lish Admiral had sent out two frigates to pro- tect 'em ; for England and France was at war, and they'd seize each other's commerce, and their governments had to protect 'em. When we got in haihn' distance of the frigates, cap- tain cries out, ' how long do you think the storm will last r' ' Can't say — all looks bad now ; two of our vessels have gone to pieces, and every soul lost.' And while we was talk- in' the seas broke over us like roUin' moun- tains ; we couldn't lay into the wind at all, and we had to let her fly, and we went like a streak of greased lightnin', and we soon lost sight on 'em ; and I tell you 'twas a melancholy sight to see sick a ^ee^ strugglin' loithsich a tempest; but we had all we could attend to at home, without borryin' trouble from abroad. But we finally conquered the storm, and dropped anchor under the old fort agin. We lay in the basin two days, and then got liberty from the governor to go up the straits, and we calcula- ted to run up to Egypt, and we cleared the straits and went into the Mediterranean ; and 19* 222 Mount Etna. then we was on what our college-larnt fellers calls classic ground. " One day the captain calls me on deck and says, ' Nig, do you see that city up the coast f " ' Yis, Sir.' *' * Well, that's the spot you sing so much about ; now let's have it ; strike up, Nig.' *' So up 1 struck : — " * To Carthagena we was bound, With a sweet and lively gale,' &c. " And I was glad enough to see my old port I'd celebrated so long in my songs. Well, we sailed along and had the finest time ever one set of fellers had— the air was as soft as you please, and the islands was as thick as buck- kle-berries, and of all kinds and sizes. We sailed on by one island, and then by another, and bim'by Mount Etna hove in sight, while we was a hangin' oft' the coast of Sicily, and 'twas rocky, and we couldn't hug the shore very close ; but we had a fine sight of the vol- cano ; and there was a steady stream of fire and smoke come out of the top of the moun- tain, and in the night it was a big sight. It flung a kind of a flickerin' light over the sea , Good night to the Fort. 2*23 and we stayed in sight of it some time ; and dis- posed of our load pretty much, and got back to the fort in just eighteen days. We cleared the old Rock the next arternoon ; and I said * good night,' to the old fort, and I hain't seen her from that day to this. " We sailed round Cape St. Vincent, off the coast of Portugal, and then crossed the Bay of Biscay, O ! and passed Land's Eend — up St. George's Channel, and through the Irish Sea, and, on the eighteenth day, dropped anchor in the harbor of Liverpool. "The captain calculated to stay in Liver- pool till spring, for 'twas now November, and trade a good deal, and bring home a heavy cargo of English goods ; but for sartin reasons, I'll tell soon, we didn't do it. While we lay in Liverpool, there was some great (loin's, I tell ye. The English troops, to the amount of some thousands, marched out under Lord Wel- lington, for foreign sarvice on the continent, and soon arter this Wellington went to fightin' in Spain. Well, they marched out under su- perior officers, and in the middle of the troops was Wellington's carriage, drawn by six milk- white horses, splendidly caparisoned, and he was in it, and three or four other big lords ; 22 1 '^«^ — sail home. and, on each side of the carriage was six offi- cers, on jet black horses, with drawn swords, and they made some noise tu ; and I shall re- member, to my dyin' day, how Wellington looked. " But we hadn't been there long afore the captain comes down one night from the city, aboard ship, and calls out to all the crew, and, says he, ' boys there's agoin' to be war betwixt Great Britain and America, and all that wants to clear port to night, and spread our sails for New York, say home !' and we did say home, in arnesf, and w^e made all preparation, and 'bout midnight we weighed anchor, and towed ourselves out as still as we could, and I never worked so hard while I was free as I did that night, and by daylight we spread all our sails for home, and in four hours we was out of sight of Liverpool. Arter breakfast we all give three cheers, and all hands says, * now we are bound for home, sweet home!' " Well, we had been out 'bout four days, and we fell in with Commodore Somebody's ship, that pioneered a fleet of merchantmen for London ; they hailed us, and we answered the signal and passed on, and they let us go by peaceable, without a w^ord of war or peace, on either side ; Blood— battle, &fi and glad 'nough we was to pass 'em so, and we spread all our sails for America, and felt thank- ful for every breeze that helped us forward. '' Well, we had a quick passage, and made the New York light, and I never was so glad to see that light-house in my life, for we expected to git overhauled by an English man-of-war or a privateer every day. Well, we got in the last of March, and this was 1812; and well we did, for the first of April an embargo was laid on all the vessels in the ports of the United States, and the nineteenth of June war was de- clared agin Great Britain, and then the Atlan- tic was all a blaze of fire. " Captain Williams quit his ship, and took a privateer, and he tried to git me 'long with him, and I thought I would, for a while, but, finally, I concluded I wouldn't, for I was too much afeared of them ^ere blue plums that Jleio so thick across the brine for two or three years. .^ "Well, captain went out and was gone thirty days, and come back, and his success was so good that his common hands shared five hundred dollars apiece, and if I'd a gone, I should have had my five hundred dollars back agin ; but I'd no idee of going to be shot at for 226 Hig cuffee ^nough icithout hein' shot at. money, like these 'ere fools and gumps thai goes down to the Florida swamps, to be shot at all day by Ingens, for eighteen pence a day. Captain met me one day in the street, and says he, ' nig, if you'd only gone with me, you'd a been as big a cuffee now as any on 'em/ I says * captain, I don't care 'bout havin' my head shot off of my shoulders ; I'm big cuffee 'nough now!' " Well, I didn't go to sea durin' the war, and afore we got through with that, I got off of the notion of goin' at all, and I concluded I'd spend the rest of my days on ' terra firma,' as I'd been tossed round on the brine long 'nough, and satisfied myself with seein' and travel, and so I stayed, and I han't been out of sight of land ever sence. " But, one dreadful thing happened to me by goin' to sea, — / got dreadfully depraved; and I b'lieve there warn't a man on the globe that would swear worse than I would, and a wickeder feller didn't breathe than Pete Wheel- er. No language was too vile or wicked for me to take into my mouth ; and it did seem to me, when I thought about it, that I blasphemed my Maker almost every minute through the day ; and I used to frequent the theatre, and all bad places, and drink till I was dead drunk Peter's description of his own cliaractc.r. 227 for days ; and nobody can bring a charge agin me for hardly one sin but murder and counter- feitin' that I ain't guilty on. When I thought 'bout it, I used to think it the greatest wonder on 'arth that God Almighty didn't cut me off and strike me to hell, for I desarved the deep- est damnation in pardition ; and if any man on 'arth says I didn't, why, all I have to say to sich a man is, that he ain't a judge. Why, as for prayer J I never thought of sich a thing for years ; and as for Sabbath day, I didn't hardly know when it come, only I used to be on a frolic or spree on that day, worse than any other day in the week. As for the bible, why, for years and years I never see one, or heard one read ; and I didn't, at that time, know how to read myself a word ; and for six years I never had a word said to me 'bout my soul, or the danger of losin' my soul, and I become as much of a heathen as any man in the Hottentot country : and the truth is, no man can make me out so bad as I raly was, for besides all I acted outy there was a hell in my bosom all the time, and these outrageous things was only a little bilin' over, — only a few leetle streams that run out of a black fountain-head. "Oh! Mr. L. , I don't know what I 228 Causes oftlie depravity of sailors. should do at the judgment day, if I couldn't liavc a Saviour. I know I shall have a blacker account than a'most any body there, and how can it all be blotted out, except by Christ's blood? " AVhy, Sir, you can't tell how wicked sailors generally be. There aint more'n one out of a hundred that cares any thing 'bout religion, and they are head and ears in debauchery and intemperance, and gamblin', and all kinds of sin, and oh ! 'twould make your heart ache to hear their oaths. I've seen 'em tremble, and try to pray durin' a dreadful storm, and all looked like goin' to the bottom — for I don't care how heathenish and devilish any body is, if they see death starin' on 'em in the face, and they'spect to die in a few minutes, he'll cry to God for help — but no sooner than the storm abated they'd cuss worse than ever. Now this was jist my fashion, and if any body says that a man who abuses a good God like that don't desarve to be cut off and put into hell, why then he han't got any common sense. " But all this comes pretty much from the officers. I never knowed but one sea captain but what would swear sometimes, and most all on 'em as fast as a dog can trot ; and jist so Conclusion. 229 sure as our officers swears, the hands will blas- pheme ten times worse ; and if the captain wouldn't swear, and forbid it on board, his orders would be obeyed like any other orders, but, as long as officers swears, so long will sailors. .-^ "But sailors have some noble things about 'em as any body of men. They will always stand by their comrades in the heart of danger or misfortune, or attack ; and if a company on 'em are on shore, you touch one you touch the whole ; and if a sailor was on the Desert of Arabia, and hadn't but a quart of water, he'd go snacks with a companion. They are sure to have a soft spot in their hearts somewhere, that you can touch if you can git at it, and when they feel, they feel with all their souls. But, arter all, ifs the ruination of men's characters to go to sea, for they become heathens, and gine- rally, ain't fit for sober life arter it, and ten to one they ruin their souls. " But my v'yges are finished, and I'll sing you one sailor's song, and then my yarn is done." Author. "Well, strike up, Peter." Peter sings — 20 230 Peter sings a sailor'' s song. "THE SAILOR'S RETURN. " Loose every sail to the breeze, The course of my vessel improve ; I've done with the toil of the seas, Ye sailors I'm bound to my love. Since Solena's as true as she's fair. My grief I fling all to the wind ; 'Tis a pleasing return for my care, My mistress is constant and kind. My sails are all filled to my dear ; What tropic birds swifter can move ; Who, cruel, shall hold his career. That returns to the nest of his love 1 Hoist ev'ry sail to the breeze, Come, shipmates, and join in the song; Let's drink, while our ship cuts the seas, To the gale that may drive her along. I've reached, spite of tempests, the port, Now I'll fly to the arms of my love ; And, rather than reef I will court, And win my beautiful dove." END OF THE SECOND BOOK. BOOK THE THIRD. PETER WHEELER AT THE CROSS. INSCRIBED To the Free People of Color in the Free States, Dear Friends : I inscribe this Book to you, for seve- ral reasons. I love you, and feel anxious to have you become intelligent and virtuous. I know that there are only a few books adapted to your taste and acquirements ;and I have had my eye upon your good in writing this history. I have thought you would understand it a great deal better if it was told in Peter's own lan- guage, and so I wrote it just as he told it. I I hope you will read it through, and follow Peter to the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of the world. And if you are oppressed by the strong arm of power, and kept down by 232 Drdkathm. an unholy and cruel prejudice, forget it and forgive it all, and go to that blessed Redeemer who came to save your souls, that he might clothe you, at last, with clean white linen, which is the righteousness of the saints. »■ Your friend, THE AUTHOR. A slick darkey — Mulain Rylanier and ]\Lister Macy. 233 CHAPTER I. Lives at Madam Rylander's — Quaker Macy — Susan a colored girl lives with Mr. Macy--she is kidnapped and carried away, and sold into slavery — Peter visits at the " Nixon's, mazin' respectable" colored people in Philadelphia — falls in love with Solena — gits the consent of old folks — fix wedding day — " ax parson" — Solena dies in his arms — his grief — com- pared with Rhoderic Dhu — lives in New Haveu — sails for New York — drives hack — Susan Macy is redeemed from slavery — she tells Peter her atory of blood and horror, and abuse, and the way she made her escape from her chains. Author. " AVell, Peter, what did you go about when you quit the seas f" Peter. " The year I quit the seas, I went to live with Madam Rylander, and stayed with her a year, and she gin me twenty-five dol- lars a month, and I made her as slick a darkey as ever made a boot shine, and she was as fine a lady as ever scraped a slipper over Broadway. While I lived there, I used to visit at Mr. John Macy's, a rich qiiaker who lived in Broad- way, across from old St. Paul's. There was a colored girl lived with his family, by the 20* 234 Susan Macy h'ulnapped and sold intoslaoery. name of Susan, and they called her Susan Macy ; she was handsome and well edicated tu, and brought up like one ofhis own children ; and they thought as much on her as one of their daughters, and she was as lovely a dis- positioned gal as ever I seed ; and I enjoyed her society mazinly. " Well, one mornin' she got up and went to her mistress' bedroom, and asked her what she'd have for breakfast — * Veal cutlet' says she; and the old man says, ' Thee'U find money in the sideboard to pay for it ;' and she did, and took her basket and goes to the market a singin' along as usual — she was a great hand to sing ; and gits her meat, and on her return, she meets a couple of gentlemen, and one had a bundle, and says he, ' Girl if you'll take this bundle down to the wharf, I'll give you a silver dollar ; and she thought it could do no harm, and so she goes with it down to the ship they described, and as she reached out the bun- dle, a man catched her and hauled her aboard and put her down in the hole. " Her master and mistress got up and wait- ted and waited, and she didn't come ; and they went and sarched the street, and finds the bas- ket, but nothin' could be heard of Susan in the Peter visits Philadelphia and fulls dead in love. 235 whole city ; and they finally gin up that she was murdered. " Well, I'll tell you the rest of the story, for I heard on her arter this. *'I stayed my year out with Madam Rylan- der, and then I quit ; and she wasdespod anx- ious to keep me, but I had other fish to fry, and took a notion I'd drive round the country and play the gentleman. " I come across, in New York, a young fel- ler of color, his parents very respectable folks who lived in Philadelphia ; and they took an anxious notion for me to go home with 'em ; and I started with 'em for Philadelphia ; and I had as good clothes as any feller, and a con- siderable money, and I thought I might as well >spend it so as any way. Well come to Phila- delphia, I found the Nixon's very rich and mazin' respectable ; and I got acquainted with the family, and they had a darter by the name ofSolena, and she was dreadful handsome, and she struck my fancy right oft' the first sight I had on her. She was handsome in fetur and pretty spoken and handsome behaved every way. Well I made up my mind the first sight I had on her, I'd have her if I could git her. I'd been in Philadelphia 'bout a week, and I 236 P^^<^^ P'>P^ '^'^ question, and Solcna says " Fis." axed her for her company, and 'twas granted. I made it my business to wait on her, and ride round with her, and visit her alone, as much as I could. The old folks seemed to like it ma- zinly, and that pleased me, and I went the length of my rope, and felt my oats tu. I treated her like a gentleman as far as I knew how — I took her to New York three times, in compa- ny with her brothers and their sweethearts; and we w^ent in great splendor tu, and I found that every day, I was nearin' the prize, and finally I popped the question, and arter some hesitation, she said, 'Yis, Peter.' But I had another Cape to double, and that was to git the consent of the old folks ; and so one Sunday evenin', as we was a courtin' all alone in the parlor, I concluded, a faint heart never won a fair lady ; and so I brushes up my hair, and starts into the old folks' room, and I right out with the question ; and he says. " ' What do you mean, Mr. Wheeler ?' *' ' I mean jist as I say. Sir ! May I marry Solena.' *' ' Do you think you can spend your life hap- py with her ?' *' ' Yis, Sir.' Wedding-day sut. 237 " ' Did you ever see any body in all your travels, you liked better ?' " ' No, Sir ! She's the apple of my eye, and the joy of my heart.' " ' I have no objection Mr. Wheeler. Now Ma, how do you feel ?' " ' Oh ! I think Solena had better say, Yis.' " And then I tell ye, my heart fluttered about in my bosom with joy. " *Oh, love 'tis a killin' thing ; Did you ever feel the pang V " So the old gentleman takes out a bottle of old wine from the sideboard, and I takes a glass with him, and goes back to Solena. When I comes in, she looks up with a smile and says, « What luck .?' I says, ' Good luck.' I shall win the prize if nothin' happens ! and now Solena you must go in tu, and you had better go in while the broth is hot. So she goes in, pretty soon she comes trippin' along back, and sets down in my lap, and I says, ' what luck ?' and she says ' good.^ So we sot the bridal day, and fixed on the weddin' dresses, and so we got all fixin's ready and even the Domine was spoke for. And one Sabba-day arter meet- in,' I goes home and dines with the family, and 238 Solena dies in his arms. arter dinner we walked out over Schuylkill bridge, and at evenin' we went to a gentle- man's where she had been a good deal ac- quainted ; and there was quite a company on us, and we carried on pretty brisk. She was naturally a high-lived thing, and full of glee ; and she got as wild as a hawk, and she unrest- led and scuffled as gals do, and got all tired out, and she come and sets down in my lap and looks at me, and says, ' Peter help me ;' and I put my hand round her and asked her what was the matter, and she fetched a sigh, and groan, and fell back and died in my arms ! ! ! A physician come in, and says he, * she's dead and without help, for she has burst a blood-ves- sel in her breast.' And there she lay cold and lifeless, and I thought I should go crazy. " She was carried home and laid out, and the second day she was buried, and I didn't sleep a wink till she was laid in the grave ; and oh ! when we come to lower her coffin down in the grave, and the cold clods of the valley begun to fall on her breast, I felt that my heart was in the coffin, and I wished I could die and lay down by her side. *' For weeks and months arter her death, I felt that I should go ravin' distracted. I Peter's lament over the grave of his lady love. 2 39 couldn't realize that she was dead ; oh ! Sir, the world looked jist Hke a great dreadful pri- son to me. I stayed at her father's, and for weeks I used to go once or twice a day to her tomb, and weep, and stay, and linger round, and the spot seemed sacred where she rested. " Well, I stayed in Philadelphia some months arter this, and I tell ye I felt as though my all was gone. I stood alone in the world, as de- solate as could be, and I determined I never would agin try to git me a wife. It seemed to me I was jist like some old wreck, I'd seen on the shore. A. " Peter, you make me think of Walter Scott's description of Rhoderic Dhu, in his * Lady of the Lake.' *' ' As some tall ship, whose lofty prore, Shall never stem the billows more, Deserted by her gallant band, Amid the breakers lies astrand ; So on his couch lay Rhoderic Dhu, And oft his feverish limbs he threw, In toss abrupt ; as when her sides Lie rocking in the advancing tides That shake her frame with ceaseless beat But cannot heave her from her seat. Oh ! how unlike her course on sea, Or his free step, on hill and lea.' 240 ^e^c^ 'roves round the country toforgU his feelings. P. " Yis, Sir ! I was jist like that same Rhoderic ; what'de call him ? Oh ! I was icorse, the world was a prison to me, and I wanted to lay my bones down at rest by the dust of Solena. I finally went back to New York, and stayed there for a while, and then up to New Haven, and stayed there two months, in Mr. Johnson's family ; and we used to board college students ; and we had oceans of oys- ters and clams ; and New Haven is by all odds the handsomest place I ever see in this country or in Europe ; and finally I sailed back to New York, arter tryin' to bury my feelin's in one W'ay and another. But in all my wander- in's, 1 couldn't forgit Solena, She seemed to cling to me like life, and I'd spend hours and hours in thinkin' about her, and I never used to think about her without tears. " Well, I thought I would try to bury my feelin's and forgit Solena, and so I hires out a year to IVlr. Bronson, to drive hack, and arter I'd been with him a few months, I called up to Mr. Macy's, my Quaker friend, and I felt kind'a bad to go there tu and not find Susan, for I had the biggest curiosity in the world to find out where she'd departed tu ; but I thought I'd go and talk with the old folks, and see if they'd heard any thing about Susan. Sitsan Macy redeemed from Slavery. 241 " Well, I slicks up and goes, and pulls the bell, and who should open the door but Susan herself, .^ " I says, ' my soul, Susan, how on 'arth are you here ? I thought you was dead.' And she says as she burst into tears, ' I have been all but dead. Come in and set down, and I'll tell you all about it.' " I says, 'my heavens ! Susan where have you been and how have ye fared ?' "She says, ' I've been in slavery, .^ and fared hard enough ;' and then she had to go to the door, for the bell rung ; and agin pretty soon she comes back and begins her story, and as 'taint very long, and pretty good, I'll tell it, and if you're a mind to put it in the book you may, for I guess many a feller will be glad to read it. " « Well,' begins Susan, ' I went down to the vessel, to carry a bundle, and three ruffins seized hold on me, and I hollered and screamed with all my might, and one on 'em clapped his hand on my face, and another held me down, and took out a knife and swore if I didn't stop my noise he\l stick it through wy heart ; and they dragged me down into the hold, where there was seven others that had been stole in 21 242 The story of Iter trials in slavery — Charleston. the same way ; and these two fellers chained me up, and I cried and sobbed till I was so faint I couldn't set up. Along in the course of the forenoon they fetched me some coarse food, but I had no appetite, and I wished my- self dead a good many times, for I couldn't git news to master. I continued in that state for two or three days, and found no relief but by submitting to my fate, and I was doleful enough off, for I couldn't see sun, moon, or stars, for I should think two weeks ; and then a couple of these ruffins come and took me out into the forecastle, and my companions, and they told me all about how they'd been stole ; and we was as miserable a company as ever got to- gether. Come on deck, I see five gentlemen „^£j^ and one on 'em axed me if I could cook and wait on gentlemen and ladies, and I says * yis, Sir,' with my eyes full of tears, and my heart broke with sorrow ; and he axed me how old I was? I says, 'seventeen,' and he turns round to the master of the vessel and says, ' I'll take this girl.' And he paid four hundred and fifty dollars for me, and betook me to his house; and I found out his name was Woodford, and he told me I was in Charleston ; but I couldn't forgit the happy streets of New York. Now I A patriarch gets one hundred lashes. 243 gin up all expectation of ever seein' my own land agin', and I submitted to my fate as well as I could, but ^twas a dreadful heart-hreakirC scene. Master ims dreadful savage^ and his wife was a despod cross ugly luoman. When he goes into the house he says to his wife, ' now I've got you a good gal, put that wench on the plantation.' And he pointed to a gal that had been a chambermaid ; and then turnin' to me says, * and you look out or you'll git there, and if you do you'll know it.'' " I'd been there four or five weeks, and I heard master makin' a despod cussin' and swearin' in the evenin', and I heard him over- say, * I'll settle with the black cuss to-morrow ; I'll have his hide tanned.' " So the next day, arter breakfast, mistress orders me down into the back yard, and I found two hundred slaves there ; and there was an old man there with a gray head, stripped and drawed over a whipping-block his hands tied down, and the big tears a rollin' down his face ; and he looked exactly like some old gray headed, sun-burnt revolutioner ; and a white man stood over him with a cat-o'-nine-tails in his hand, and he was to give him one hundred lashes. «,£][) And he says, * now look on all on 244 Tlie bloody block. ye, and if you git into a scrape you'll have this cat-o'-nine-tails wrapped round you ;' and then he begun to whip, and he hadn't struck mor'n two or three blows, afore I see the blood run, and he was stark naked, and his back and body was all over covered with scars, and he says in kind'a broken language, ' Oh ! massa don't kill me.' * Tan his hide,' says master, and he kept on whippin', and the old man groaned like as if he was a dyin', and he got the hundred lashes, .^ and then was untied and told to go about his work ; and I looked at the block, and it was kivered with blood, and that same block didn't git clear from blood as long as I stayed there. ,,^ " ' Well, this spectacle affected me so, I could scarcely git about the house, for I expected next would be my turn ; and I was so afraid I shouldn't do right I didn't half do my work. *' * It wore upon me so I grew poor through fear and grief. I would look out and see the two hundred slaves come into the back yard to be fed with rice, and they had the value of about a quart of rice a day, I guess. " ' Every day, more or less would be whip- ped till the blood run to the ground ; and every day fresh blood could be seen on the block, — Susan sees Samud Macy. 245 and what for I never found out, for I darn't ax anybody, and I had no hberty of saying any- thing to the field hands. * " I used often to look out of the window to see people pass and repass, and see if I couldn't see somebody that I knew ; and I finally got sick, and was kept down some time, and I jist dragged about and darn't say one word, for I should have been put on the j)lantation for bein^ sick! and I meant to do the best I could till I dropped down dead ; but the almost whole cause on it was grief, and the rest was cruel hardship. Well, things got so, I thought I must die soon, and in the height of my sorrow, I look- ed out and see Samuel Macy — Master Macy's second son, walkin' along the street, and I could hardly believe my eyes ; and I wasstandin' in the door, and I catches the broom, and goes down the steps a sweepin', and calls him by name as he comes along, and I tells him a short story, and he says ' I'll git thee free, only be patient a few weeks.' 1 neither sees nor hears a word on him for over four weeks, but I was borne up by hope, and that made my troubles lighter. AVell, in about four weeks, one day, jist arter dinner, there comes a gen- tleman and raps at the front door, and I goes 21* 246 The hand of God in Susan's redemption. and opens the door, and there stood old Master Macy, and I flies and hugs him, and he says * how does thee do, Susan ?' I couldn't speak, and as soon as I could I tells my story ; and Master Macy then speaks to mistress, who heard the talk and had come out of the parlor, and says, ' this girl is a member of my family, and I shall take her,' and then master come in and abused Master Macy dreadfully ; but he says, * come along with me, Susan ;' and, without a bonnet or anything on to go out with I took him by the hand, and went down to the ship ; and, afore I had finished my story, an officer comes and takes old Master Macy, and he leaves me in the care of his son Samuel, aboard, and he was up street about three hours, tendin' a law-suit, and then he come back, and about nine o'clock that evenin' we hauled off from that cussed shore, and in two weeks we reached New York, and here I am, in Master Macy's old kitchen. '' 'Well, he watches for this slave ship that stole me, and one day he come in and said he had taken it, and had five men imprisoned ; and the next court had them all imprisoned for life, and there they be yit. And now there's no man, gentle or simple, that gits me to do an The dead alive, and the lost found. 247 arrant out of sight of the house. Bought wit is the best, but I bought mine dreadful dear. When I got back the whole family cried, and Mistress Macy says, *' * Let us rejoice \ for the dead is alive, and the lost is found." ' 248 Stays till midnight hearirC Susan's story. CHAPTER 11. Kidnappin' in New York — Peter spends three year8 in Hart- ford — couldn't help thinkin' of Solena — Hartford Conven- tion — stays a year in Middletovvn — hires to a man in West Springfield — makes thirty-five dollars fishin' nights — great revival in Springfield — twenty immersed — sexton of church in Old Springfield — religious sentiments — returns to New York — Solena again — Susan Macy married — pulls up for the Bay State again — lives eighteen months in Westfield — six months in Sharon — Joshua Nichols leaves his wife — Peter goes after him and finds him in Spencertown, New York — takes money back to Mrs. Nichols — returns to Spen- certown — lives at Esq. Pratt's — Works next summer for old Captain Beale — his character — falls in love — married — lose.s his only child — wife helpless eight months — great revival of 1827 — feels more like gittin' religion — " One sabba'day when when the minister preached at me" — a resolution to get re- ligion — how to become a christian — evening prayer-meeting —Peter's convictions deep and distressing — going home he kneels on a rock and prayed — his prayer — the joy of are- deemed soul — his family rejoice with him. Peter. " Well, I sot a hearin' Susan's story till midnight, and that brought back old scenes agin, and there I sot and listened to her story till I had ene'most cried my eyes out of my head, and I have only gin you the outline. KidnappirC in New York. 249 And that kidnappin' used to be carried on that way in New York year after year, and it's car- ried on yit. ,^* Why, they used to steal * It became so common in New York that there was no safety for a colored person there, and phi- lanthropy and rehgion demanded some protection for them against such a shocking system. — At last there was a vigilance committee organized for the purpose of ascertaining the names and residences of every colored person in the city ; and this committee used regularly to visit all on the roll, and almost every day some one was missing. The re- sult has been that several hundreds of innocent men and women and children have been retaken from their bondage, from the holds of respectable merchantmen in New York, to the parlours of south- ern gentry in New-Orleans. The facts which have been brought out by this committee are awful be- yond description. — It is one of the noblest, and most patriotic and efficient organization on the globe. But their design expands itself beyond the protection and recovery of kidnapped friends ; — it also lifts a star of guidance and promise upon the path of the fugitive slave ; it helps him on his way to freedom, and not one week passes by without wit- nessing the glorious results of this humane and benevolent institution, in the protection of the free 250 Hartford and Middletoitm — Philanthropists. away any and every colored person they could steal, and this is all carried on by northern folks tu, and it's fifty times worse than Louisi- ana slavery. *' Well, I stayed in NewYork till my time was out, and then went to Hartford and worked three years, and enjoyed myself pretty well, onli/ I couldn't Jielp thinkin' 'hoiit Solena, She was mixed up with all my dreams and thoughts, and I used to spend hours and hours in think- in' about what I'd lost. But arter all I suffer- ed, I'm kind'a inclined to think 'twas all kind in God to take her away, for arter this, I never was so wicked agin nigh. I hadn't time or disposition to hunt up my old comrades, and if any time I begun to plunge into sin, then the thought of Selena's memory would come up afore me and check me in a minute, but I was yit a good ways from rale religion. or the redemption of the enslaved. The Humane Society, whose object is to recover to life those who have been drowned, enlists the patronage and en- comiums of the great and good, and yet this Vigi- lance Committee are insulted and abused by many of the public presses in New York, and most of the city authorities. — Why 1 Slavery has infused its deadly poison into the heart of the North, A revival of religion in Springfield. 251 " While I was there, in December, 1814, the famous Hartford Convention sot with clos- ed doors, and nobody could find out what they was about, and every body was a talkin' about it, and they han't got ov^er talkin' about it, and I don't b'lieve they ev^er will. The same win- ter the war closed and peace was declared. I could tell a good many stories about the war, but I guess 'twould make the book rather too long, and every body enemost knows all about the last war. *' Well, I went down to Middletown and stayed a year there, and then I went to hire out to a man in West Springfield, and he was a far- mer, and he hadn't a chick nor child in the world, and he had a share in a fishin' place on the Conecticut, and he was as clever as the day is long. He let me fish nights and have all I ffot, and sometimes I've made a whole lot of money at one haul, and in that season T made thirty-five dollars jist by fishin' nights, besides good wages — and I didn't make a dol- lar fishin' for Gideon Morehouse nights for years ! <' While I was there a Baptist minister come on from Boston and preached some time, and they had a great revival, and I see twenty im- 252 Peter sexton of the church in Springfield. mersed down in the Connecticut, and 'twas one of the most solemn scenes that ever I wit- nessed. " They went down two by two to the river, and he made a prayer and then sung this hymn, and I shan't ever forget it, for a good many on 'em was young. " ' Now in the heat of youthful blood. Remember your Creator God ; Behold the months come hastening on When you shall say * my joys are gone.' *' And then he went in and baptized 'em ; and I know I felt as though I wished I was a chris- tian, for it seemed to me there was somethin' very delightful in it, and then they sung and prayed agin, and then went home. *' Arter this I lived in Old Springfield and was sexton of the church there ; and while I rung that bell I heard good preachin' every Sunday, and I larnt more 'bout religion than I'd ever knowed in all my life. I begun to feel a good deal more serious and the need of get- tin' religion. " Arter my time was out there, I went down to New York, and there I met Solena's broth- er, and that brought every thing fresh to Susan Macy married — -pidls up for the Bay State. 253 mind agin, and for weeks agin I spent sorrow- ful hours. I thought I had about got over it and the wound was healed ; but then 'twould git tore open agin and bleed afresh, and sor- rowful as ever. It did seem to me that uothin' w^ould banish the image of that gal from my heart. '* I used to call and see Susan Macy occa- sionally, and she was now Mrs. Williams, and lived in good style tu, for a colored person. She was married at Mr. Macy's and they made a great weddin', and all the genteel dar- kies in New York was there ; and I wan't sat- isfied with waitin' on one, I must have twoy and if we didn't have a stir among our color about them times I miss my guess ; and Mr. Macy set her out with five hundred dollars, and she had a fine husband and they lived to- gether as comfortable as you please. " Now I concluded I'd quit the city for good, I spent more money there and had worse hab- its, and besides all this I wanted to git away as fur as I could from the scene of my disap- pintment. " Well, I pulled up stakes agin and put out for the Bay State agin, and I put into West- field, and stayed there eighteen months, and 33 254 -^ broken heart — Peter gds to Spencertotcn. made money and saved it, and behaved my- self, and 'tended meetin' every sabba'day, and gained friends and was as respectable as any body. From Westfield I went to Sharon and there I stayed six months, and 'tended a saw mill, and there was a colored man there by the name of Joshua Nichols, who had married a fine gal, and he lived with her till she had one child and then left her, and went out to Columbia county, New York ; and I started off for Albany, and she axed me if I wouldn't find her husband on my route, and so I left Sharon and got here to Spencertown, and found him, and axed him why he woidd be so cruel as to leave his wife f He says ' if you'll go and caiTy some money and a letter down to her I'll pay you.' So he gin me the things and I put out for Sharon, and when Miss Nichols broke open the letter she burst into tears, and says I, " why Miss Nichols what's the matter ?" " Why Joshua says this is the last letter I may ever expect from him." — Well, I stayed one night, and come back and concluded I'd go on for Albany, but when I got to Erastus Pratt's he wanted to hire me six months, and I hired, and his family was nice folks, and he had a whole fleet of gals — and Peter gets married. 255 they was all as fine as silk, but I used to tell Aunt Phebe, that Harriet was the rather the nicest — on 'em all. Arter my six months was out, I worked a month in shoein' up his family, and 1 guess like enough some on 'em may be in the garret yet. * ' Next summer I hired out to old Capt. Beale, and he was a noble man, and did as much for supportin' Benevolent Societies as any other man in town, and in the mean time, I had got acquainted with her who is now my wife, and this summer I was married to her by Esq. Jacob Lawrence, and in the winter we went to keepin' house. " When we had been married over a year, we had a leetle boy born, and the leetle feller died and I felt bad enough, for he was my only child, and it was despod hard work too, to give him up. I had at last found a woman I loved, and all my wanderings and extravagancies was over, and I was gettin' in years, and I thought I could now be happy and enjoy all the com- forts of a home and fireside, but this was all blasted when I laid that leetle feller in the grave, and my wife was sick and helpless eight months. *'In 1827 a great Revival spread over this 256 Or^at Revival in 1827-8— Religion. whole region, and was powerful here, and I used to go to all the meetin's, and I be- gun to think more about religion than I ever did in all my life; and these feelin's hung on to me 'bout a year, and agin I gin myself up to the world, and plunged into sin, and grieved the Spirit of God, and grew dreadful vile, as all the folks 'round here will say, if you ax 'em. — And I myself, who knows more 'bout myself than any other body* s'pose that at hearty I was one of the wickedest men in the world. *' Well, along in 1828 the religious feelin' 'round in this region, begun to rise agin 'round in this neighbourhood, and there was a good many prayer meetin's held, principally at Dea- con Mayhew's, and Esq. Pratt's, and I used to 'tend 'em pretty steady, and I got back my old feelin' agin, and now felt more a good deal like gittin' religion, than I ever had ; and rain or shine, I'd be at the meetin's, and I detarmined I'd go through it, if I went at all. This church here, which has since got so tore and distract- ed, was all united, and seemed to be a diggin' all the same way, and Christ was among 'em. There was one Sabhathday, I shan't ever for git, and when I went to meetin', and the min- ister took his text " Turn ye, turn ye, for The way to hecome a Christian explained. 257 why will ye die ?" the very minute the words come out of his mouth, an arrow went to my heart, and I felt the whole sarmint was aimed at me, and I felt despod guilty. I went home, and that night I was distressed beyond all ac- count, and I went to bed troubled to death. But I formed the resolution, if there was any thing in religion I'd have it, if I could git it, and I was detarmined as I could be that I would hunt for the way of Salvation ; and when I found it, I travelled in it, and consider that there I begun right. But I was as ignorant of rale religion as a horse-block, and I didn't know how to go to work. Sometimes, some- thing would say, 'Oh! Peter, give up the business, you can't git it through,' but I held on to my resolution despod tight; and I think, that is the way for a body to go about getting religion ; on the start, be detarmined to hunt for the path of duty, and as soon as you find it, go right to travellin' on it, and keep on ; I know I had some duty to do to God, and I knew I must hunt for it if I found it, and do it if I ever got the favor of God. " Well, one night there was a prayer meetin' in the church, and a shower of prayer come down on the house like a tempest, and oh ! how 22* 258 -'i fra§er maeting—PeUr pra§s on the roek. lliey (lid beseech God that niirht — as the ll'ibU'. t^ay:*, " witli stroni: cryin' and tears." '• Deacon Mayliew •rot u])aiid says, " There's full liberty for any body to «irit up and speak or pray." Ami I felt as thoii;;h 1 must irit up and say soniethin' or pray, I was so distressed ; l)ut tlien I WHS a bluck man, and was afeard I couldn't pray nice enough, and so I set still, but I felt like death. A number of young con- verts, prayed and made ^'ood prayers, and there was a despod feelin* there I tell ye. ** Arter meetin* a iimn] many folks spoke to me, but I eouldn't answer 'em for tears ; and so I started lor Ikhmc, nvIh'u I was ffoin' cross the lots a cryin' I come to a large flat rock, and looked round to see if any body ',vas near l»y, and then I kneeled down and 'twas x\n\/irst time I ever ra/j/ prayed. " 1 beirun, but I was so full I couldn't only say these words and I recollect *em well. " * Oh! Lord, here I be a poor wretch ; do N\ ith mc just as you please ; for I have sinneil with an out stretched arm, and I feel unworthy of of the least marcy, but I beg for hloodj the blood of him tliat died Calvary ! Oh ! lielp me, keep uj) my detarmination to do my duty, and submit to let you dispose on me jist as you Ftter finds StilctUion — his family rejoice. 2o0 please, fur time and eternity; oh ! Lord hoar this first prayer of a hcU-dcsarving sinner.' " "Well, I got up, and felt what I never fcU afure ; I felt wiUini^ to do God's will, and that 1 was reconciled to God ; afore this, I had felt as thoiii^h (iv 1 was opposed to nie, and I'd got to shift round afore he'd meet me, and feci reconciled to me. I looked up to heaven, and I couldn't help sayin', * My Father :' never be- fore nor sence, have I felt so much joy and peace as 1 felt then, I was glad to be in God's hand:?, and let him reign, for I knew he would do right, and I felt sich a love fur him, as I can't describe. " I got up from the rock, and the world did look beautiful round me; the moon shone clear, and the stars, and then I thought about David, when he tells about his feelin's when he looked at the same moon and stars ; you see I was changed and that made the world look so new ; and this beautiful world was God's world, and God was ?ni/ Father., and that made me happy, and that is 'bout all I can say 'bout it. '* I went home, and found my wife and mo- ther-in-law abed and 'sleep, and I lit up the candle and wakes 'em up, and says, " I've found the pearl of great price." • r < 200 Ends kitftmUg idtar—joff nf a rrJuemed $oml. •'I (^itd down the IVcw Testament, for I luiJ no Hilile, unil never owneil one till this time, and says, " I'll read a chapter and then make ii prayer, (for you Hec my wife iiad larnl me to read artcr a tashion,) and they say * Tliat'd right i*eter, I'm i^lad you feel a.s thouirh you could pray,' I opened the Testament to the 1 1th cliaptcr of John, * Let not your lieart he tri)ul)le^,••..\'°" •*■.,<■^' ■^^ ,.<^ v\

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