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rats had actually eaten a part of our feet. As the slaves are not allowed boots or shoes (except for a short time in the winter), the combined action of the frost at night, and the heat during the day, harden the feet; so that the outside skin at last cracks, and is very painful to the negroes. This outside skin is called “ dead skin,” as the slaves cannot feel the rats eating it until their teeth touch the more tender part of the feet. During the day, that part of the foot which has been skinned by the rats is very tender and causes great pain. The presence of rats in our houses brought venemous snakes, who frequented them for the purpose of swallowing the rats, and who sometimes bit the negoes, and then my father's power of curing snakebites was called into play. On one occasion there was a sale of slaves near, and a man came to the auction to purchase a slave girl. He fixed on one who pleased him, and took her into a neighbouring barn and stripped her start naked, for the purpose of examining her, as he would a horse, previous to buying ber. The father and mother of the girl were looking through the window and keyhole and various crevices, with many other slaves, who saw all that passed. He ultimately purchased her for his own vile purposes, and when he had had several children by her, sold both her and her children. Marriage in the slave States among the slaves is absolutely “ Nil.” There was on one plantation, a slave about thirty years of age and six feet high, named Adam. He had a wife on a neighbouring plantation belonging to Mr. Hancock. My master bought a young slave girl about fourteen years old, named Jenny Wilson, and he then ordered Adam to leave his present wife and take Jenny. Adam, after having some hundreds of lashes for obstinately persisting in loving his wife, at last consented, but not so Jenny, who was in love with me and I with her. But she was at last compelled to obey her master by the bloody cowhide. My master served nearly all his male slaves in a similar manner. One of his slaves, however, named Abraham, was unusually obstinate, and would not give up his wife. At last my master, in despair, sent him to his son-in-law's plantation, Gamble M'Farden, who was an inveterate drunkard, and who murdered my sister Bella, as related elsewhere. He ordered Abraham not to go up to see his wife any more; but Abraham loved his wife too much to be parted from her in that manner, so he went fifteen long miles once
every fortnight, on the Saturday night, for the pleasure of seeing his wife for a short time. He was found out, and whipped to death by that drunkard Mr. M'Farden. My brother Ephraim did not escape ; he was compelled to leave his wife and marry the house girl.
But I am wandering. While I was at Salem, I heard from Mr. Forman, that Anderson, my old slave-driver, had called for me. I will give some incidents that will illustrate his character. He was brought up among the negroes, and was so familiar with negro habits, that he possessed unusual facilities for getting them into trouble. He was hired for the purpose of subduing me and another slave named Isaac, but fortunately my escape saved me from experiencing his tender mercies.
In the adjacent swamp there was an abundance of wild turkeys, the sight of which greatly tantalized the negroes, as they had no gun to shoot them with. On one occasion my father, old Doctor Clavern, had made a pen to catch the wild turkeys with. This soon came to the ears of Anderson, and he immediately sought out my father, and accosted him with “Old Doc. Clave., where is your turkey pen?” “In the swamp, massa." “ Tell me where it is? turkeys are too good for niggers.” “I can't exactly tell where it is, massa.” “Then I will find out and destroy it; for turkeys are too good for niggers.” He fully carried out his threat; for soon afterwards he discovered the pen, and destroyed it. When he next met with my father, he said, “ Old Doc. Clave., does you catch turkeys now?" “No, massa Anderson; somebody spoil my pen.” “'Twas I spoiled it, you rascal, so that you should not catch turkeys any more.” This may serve to show his badness of disposition. On another occasion, I had made a fish trap in the stream which ran through the swamp. Anderson heard of it, and organized a party to proceed to the swamp, and search for it. After a long search they succeeded in discovering it, and took all the fish out, and destroyed it, for the simple reason that “ fish was too good for niggers." Owing to his having been brought up among negroes, he was perfectly familiar with their peculiarities of dialect, &c. If he suspected that any negroes had fresh meat, obtained as narrated above, he would sneak to the nigger houses in the dead of night, and say, in their peculiar man. ner, “ Brudder, ope' t' door; I want to 'peak to you for a minnit." This would deceive the negroes, and they would
open the door, expecting to see another negro, when, to their amazement and confusion, it would be “Neddy Anderson,” as he was called. “O you rascals !” he would say, “you got fresh meat here; you steal it;” and next day they would have so many lashes for daring to eat meat, or whatever it might be. He was accustomed to be hired to whip negroes, and he used to revel in this (to him) delightful occupation. He would sneak about during the night, for the purpose of catching negroes wandering from their plantations, so that he might have the pleasure of whipping them. I heard since my escape, of my mother's death, and that she died under him. I therefore cannot but conclude that my mistress, who hated her, incited him to whip her in particular, and that, horrible to think of, she must have died under his lash. I believe, also, that my youngest brother, Casey, must have fallen a victim to his cruelty; for I have heard of his death also, and that Anderson had given him some severe whippings. Had I sufficient space I could fill a volume with instances of his wickedness and cruelty. But, to proceed-he was so anxious to catch me that he followed me to Boston-at least, I believe, from the description given by Mr. Forman, that it was he; but fortunately I had gone to Salem, which is 15 miles from Boston. Mr. Forman did not tell Anderson where I was, but merely told him that there was no such person as Jackson there. Anderson said, “I know better, here is the letter he wrote home, wishing to know what he can buy his father and mother for, and I now want to see him.” This incensed the sailors, who said, “Here are the slave-hunters, hunting for niggers,” and drove them from the house. Mr. Forman wrote to me at Salem, to warn me not to come to Boston, as they were hunting for me there. I remained at Salem, and worked in the tan yard there, turning the splitting machine, until I had saved one hundred dollars. Since my escape I have saved about one thousand dollars of my own earnings, for the purpose of purchasing my relatives. I was in correspondence with some gentlemen in America, through my friend the Rev. C. H. Spurgeon, for that purpose, when the present war interrupted and broke up my hopes and plans. If this war obviates the necessity of buying my people, by freeing the negroes, (as I hope and pray to God it will, and as I believe it will) I shall then, if God pleases, devote my money in building a Chapel in Canada, for escaped slaves; or wherever my old fellow
labourers are located. Though “absent in the body," my whole heart is with my fellow-sufferers in that horrible bondage ; and I will exert myself until the last of my relatives is released. On one occasion I saw my brother Ephraim tied up and blindfolded with his own shirt, and beaten with fifty lashes before his own wife and children, by a wretch named Sam Cooper, because he was falsely accused of having stolen a yard of bagging. Fathers ! think of being tied up and stripped before your wife and children, and beaten severely for nothing at all; and then think that it is a daily, nay, hourly, occurrence in the Slave States of America, and you will begin to have some idea of what American slavery is. But to proceed with my life. Just as I was beginning to be settled at Salem, that most atrocious of all laws, the “Fugitive Slave Law," was passed, and I was compelled to flee in disguise from a comfortable home, a comfortable situation, and good wages, to take refuge in Canada. I may mention, that during my flight from Salem to Canada, I met with a very sincere friend and helper, who gave me a refuge during the night, and set me on my way. Her name was Mrs. Beecher Stowe. She took me in and fed me, and gave me some clothes and five dollars. She also inspected my back, which is covered with scars which I shall carry with me to the grave. She listened with great interest to my story, and sympathized with me when I told her how long I had been parted from my wife Louisa and my daughter Jenny, and perhaps, for ever. I was obliged to proceed, however, and finally arrived in safety at St. John's, where I met my present wife, to whom I was married lawfully, and who was also an escaped slave from North Carolina. I stayed there some time, and followed the trade of whitewasher, and at last I embarked for England. When I arrived at Liverpool, I proceeded to Scotland, where I met with true friends of abolition. I lectured in most of the Free Churches there, including Dr. Candlish's, Dr. Guthrie's, and Mr. Alex. ander Wallis's. I lectured twice in Dr. Candlish's Church. I then proceeded to Aberdeen, where I lectured to crowded audiences; and I then fell in with more friends, until I met with the Rev. Mr. Barker, of Huddersfield, who directed me to the Rev. C. H. Spurgeon, who received me and my wife into his Church as members, and who has been my firm friend and adviser ever since. I am now only anxious for the war to end with freedom to the
oppressed, (for I firmly believe that will be its ultimate issue) and then I will revisit the old scenes of oppression, and read the Bible to those to whom it has long been a sealed Book. May God hasten this happy consummation.
CHAPTER VI. AMERICAN BUTTERFLY AND SLAVERY. A BAD man called Old Ben Calo, who was nearly seven feet high, used to go about ditching for different slaveholders, far too lazy to work on his own plantation in the Pine Woods. On one occasion, he wanted me to steal from my master a bushel of corn for him, which I refused to do. This annoyed him very much, and, in the course of time, he came to my white people and told them that he saw me the night before on a horse, and that he believed me to be trading with Tom Hancock. This he did to gain their favour. They then asked him how he knew it was me. “I know it was him, he replied.” “It might have been a white man,” said they. “No; I am sure it was Jackson, for I waited some time for him to return on this side of the branch. After I had started to go home, I heard the noise of horses' feet coming behind. As he approached, I gave him the road, and ordered him to stop; he disregarded this and galloped by. I then pulled the trigger of my gun three times to shoot him, but it would not fire, because he bewitched it.” Foolish man-is what he said was true-God alone preserved my life that night. Ben Calo is not the only man who acts so deceitfully; there are scores whom I might mention. One more instance I will mention here of a man named Squire Sanders; he lived in South Carolina, Sumpter District; he had been in the habit for a long time of trading secretly with slaves, which trading he, of course, found very profitable; and be encouraged them to steal cotton, corn, etc. He was at last suspected of having received stolen property. Thereupon, James Laws and another slaveholder, at once hit on the following plan to find him out: they placed a basket of cotton on the head of one of their own slaves, named Job. Previous to this, however, a negro from the same plantation, named Alex, ran ahead on purpose to inform Squire Sanders that his master was coming that night to test bis honesty, and begged him not to purchase anything of any slave that might come to him. “Well, my boy,” said the