Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

66

Squire joyfully, "if I find this to be true, I will make you a present of five dollars." Between ten and eleven o'clock, Job arrived, followed at a distance by his master on horseback. The dogs began to bark, and Squire Sanders came out to enquire what was the matter. "Who's that?" he asked. "James Law's Job," was the answer. "What do you want?" "I have some cotton for you." "Have you got an order from your master to bring me cotton this time of night?" No, sir," said Job. "How dare you bring me cotton here without an order? go along back, and to-morrow I will see your master about this." James Law then returned, convinced in his own mind that the Squire was an honest man, and did not trade with slaves. And Alex received his five dollars. So the Squire went on trading as usual; but he adopted the plan of having the cotton taken to one of the negro-houses, and received by Abraham, a negro. This I know to be the truth.

THE AMERICAN BUTTERFLY.

THE character of the slaveholder, is to work his slaves very hard so that they may not get up in the night to raise an insurrection, or carry off cotton or corn to other masters who trade with slaves at night. "The harder we work them," say they, "the sounder they will sleep until we blow the horn to put them to work next day." The butterfly, and bumble bee, and the mosquito-hawk, fly from blossom to blossom through the cotton fields, enjoying the glorious liberty which is denied to the slaves. A circumstance occured in the cotton fields, during a very heavy thunderstorm, which I think is worthy of notice here. The thunder and lightning was terrific, frightening the most hardened. One old negro sinner named Munday, who was ploughing in the field, and who was swearing fearfully, was struck dead by the lightning.

The lightning once burnt a space of ground in the cotton fields, and nothing afterwards ever grew on that spot.

We will now turn to the hawk and the owl. The hawk snatches away chickens from the hen during the day, and the owl steals them at night, yet the slave is not allowed to have a gun to shoot them. I went one Sunday to see my old aunt, and I came back through my master's pasture, three miles in length and about the same in width, killing snakes and scorpions as I went along, until I came

up to a region where the great storm-which we call a hurricane-had torn up the pine trees by the roots. On one of these trees there was a large head, which frightened me; it had large dreadful-looking eyes, which turned as I walked on. I afterwards discovered this to be an owl, not able to fly; but the head was quite as large as a fullgrown owl's. I succeeded in killing this, but not until I had had a sharp fight with the old ones, who were overhead, and who followed me quite half a mile, knowing I had taken their young one. The slaveholders live upon their slaves just as the hawk and owl live upon the hen and chicken.

The Methodists and Independents hold slaves, as also do the Baptists.

CHAPTER VII.

THE NEGRO SONGS.

I FEAR that this chapter will prove to many rather uninteresting; but at the same time, there are many who, I am quite sure, would wish to know what are the songs with which the negroes beguile their leisure hours. The following is one of them, and a great favourite among the negroes.

A SPIRITUAL HYMN.

"O Shepherd, wha' thou bin all day,
O Shepherd, wha' thou bin all day,
O Shepherd, wha' thou bin all day,

You promised my Jesus to mind these lambs,
And he pays you at the coming day.

O children, he pays you at the coming day,
O children, he pays you at the coming day,
O children, he pays you at the coming day.
O Shepherd, the lambs all gone astray,
O Shepherd, the lambs all gone astray,
O Shepherd, the lambs all gone astray,
You promised my Jesus to mind these lambs,
And he pays you at the coming day.

O children, he pays you at the coming day,
O children, he pays you at the coming day,
O children, he pays you at the coming day.
Did you ever see such a carriage roll,
Did you ever see such a carriage roll,
Did you ever see such a carriage roll,
And it rolls like judgment day.

O children, it rolls like judgment day,
O children, it rolls like judgment day,
O children, it rolls like judgment day.

The fore-wheel roll by the grace of God,
The fore-wheel roll by the grace of God,
The fore-wheel roll by the grace of God,
And the hind-wheel roll by faith.

O children, the hind-wheel roll by faith,
O children, the hind-wheel roll by faith,
O children, the hind-wheel roll by faith.
It roll for me and it roll for you,
It roll for me and it roll for you,
It roll for me and it roll for you,

And it roll for the whole world round.

O children, it roll for the whole world round,
O children, it roll for the whole world round,
O children, it roll for the whole world round.

Did you ever hear such a trumpet ring,
Did you ever hear such a trumpet ring,
Did you ever hear such a trumpet ring,
And it ring like judgment day.

O children, it ring, like judgment day,
O children, it ring like judgment day,
O children, it ring like judgment day.
It ring for me and it roll for you,
It ring for me and it roll for you,
It ring for me and it roll for you,
And it ring for the whole world round.

O children, it ring for the whole world round,
O children, it ring for the whole world round,.
O children, it ring for the whole world round.

My Jesus he put on the long white robe,
My Jesus he put on the long white robe,
My Jesus he put on the long white robe,
And he sail thro' Galilee.

O children, he sail thro' Galilee,
O children, he sail thro' Galilee,
O children, he sail thro' Galilee.

He sail for me and he sail for you,
He sail for me and he sail for you,
He sail for me and he sail for you,

And he sail for the whole world round.

O children, he sail for the whole world round,
O children, he sail for the whole world round,
O children, he sail for the whole world round,”

This hymn is a great favourite with the slaves, and is sung by them while they clap their hands to keep time. Probably the reason for the number of repeats, is because they have no books allowed them; and indeed, they cannot read, and therefore, on hearing a single line sung by the white people, these poor slaves cannot prize it too much, as is shown by their singing it over and over.

The following is a favourite hymn of the poor negroes in the dusk of eventide, or on the dark night, after work:

"We shall hear the trumpet sounding

'Fore the break of day,

We'll take the wings of th' morning,

And fly away to my Canaan land,

Bright angels shall come to bear my soul
To my rosen, rosen* Lamb."

This hymn was often to me a sweet solace after a hard day's work under the horrible tyranny of slavery. It used to refresh us to think that heaven was so near, and that soon we should be there.

The following is perhaps, not quite so intelligible as the previous one:

"Oh, me an' my wife we'er hand in hand,

And all our children in one band

They honour the Lamb.

Oh, silver slippers on my feet,

We'll slip and slide thro' paradise,

And honour the Lamb.'

It must be remembered that these hymns are composed of fragments of hymns, which we had heard sung at the meeting-houses and camp-meetings of the white men. Under these circumstances, it is indeed wonderful that they are as intelligible as they are. A few more may, perhaps, be acceptable to the reader. This one we used to

sing when in some such spirit as was David of old, when he indicted that interesting Psalm, beginning “Truly God is good to Israel." (lxxiii.)

"Old Satan told me to my face

He'd drag my kingdom down;
But Jesus whispered in my ears
He'd build it up again.

CHORUS.

Oh, we'll walk and talk 'bout Jesus,

Glory, hallelujah!

Oh, we'll walk and talk 'bout Jesus,
Glory to my soul."

We used to sing this when we had seen the wicked in high places, and the servants of God suffering injustice. But when we had sung this we considered the end, and saw that they were set in slippery places. Our hymns were all we could get of real spiritual food, and yet they were blest by God to the conversion of many, and to the

rosen, probably a corruption of risen.

building up of his saints. "Truly out of the mouths of babes and sucklings hath he perfected praise."

After we had sung one of these songs, we would kneel down, and one of us would offer prayer, and then we would spring up and strike up a new song-one of joy and gladness:

[blocks in formation]

It will be seen more particularly from the foregoing, that the negroes compose their songs chiefly from snatches of hymns which they hear sung by the white people, interpolated, it is true, with now and then a line of the original. Judge them not harshly, gentle reader, for their plagiarism, if such it may be called, for were you in their position, we doubt if you could do better.

As perhaps these slave songs may be interesting to the reader, I will give two or three more, with which I will conclude:

"I want to go where Moses gone,

Glory, hallelujah!

I want to go to the promised land,
Glory, hallelujah!

Sweet milk and honey overflows,

Glory, hallelujah!"

These lines would be repeated with great energy, the hallelujah being sometimes in the middle of the line, instead of in its legitimate position; thus:

"I want to go, hallelu', hallelu',

Where Moses gone, hallelu', hallelu', hallelu'.'

The following may show our feelings with regard to death:

"Death, O death, O where are you going?

Oh hallelu', hallelu', hallelujah!

I'm coming for some of your souls,

Oh hallelu', hallelu', hallelujah!

We feared not death, but would rather welcome it with songs, for we, ignorant as we are, felt that we should receive the "Crown of Life."

« AnteriorContinuar »