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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
<rins"erbread with for a o^ood while.' You see
there was a big bounty on painters. And I
says, 'Hen, if my master was as clever to me
as your dad is to you, I should have money
'nough always.' Hen says, ' I shall have my
part of the bounty money, and Morehouse
ought to let you have your'n.'
" Arter this, he takes his hide off, and stuffs
it with leaves and moss ; and we gathers up our
fish, tackle, and painter, and starts for home,
Sunday mornin'.
*' Well, when we got home, master and
mistress was glad 'nough of the fish, for they
had company. Master's rule was to give me
half the fish I got, (I'll give the devil his due,)
Morduvfe steals Fcter^s lotmty vicvey. 67
l)nt this time I didn't git any, and I felt rather
hard 'bout it, tu. Hen and Tom says, * Pete,
you call up at our house to night, and we'll
settle with you for your share of the bounty
for the painter.'
'' So I goes to master, with my hat under
my arm, and asks him, * If he'd please to let
me go up to Mr. Ludlow's ?' * What do you
want to go up to Mr. Ludlow's for f * To git
my bounty money,' says 1. ' No, you main't
go up to Ludlow's ; but you may go and bring
up my brown mare, and saddle her ; and du
you du it quick, tu.'
" Well, I goes and does what he says; and
he goes up to Mr. Ludlow's, and gits mi/ part of
the bounty money, and pockets it up ; and thafs
all I got for dousin^ his glifnsl^j^
'* While he was gone, Lecta, my friend,
comes, and says, ' Peter, where's father
gone ?'
" ' To git more painter money,' says I,
* tliat I arns for him nights.'
"'I think dad's got money 'nough,' says
she, ' without stealin' your'n, that you arn
nights off on that Oneida Lake.'
*' I says, with tears in my eyes, * I know
it's hard, liCcta ; but as long as master lives,
6S ftis " darter^* thiyths him a " dumh old kogj'
I shan't git anything but a striped back ;
and what I arns nights, he puts in his own
pockets.'
" ' I know it's hard, Peter,' says Lecta ;
* but there's an eend comin' to all this ; and
dad won't Hve always, j^crhajjs.^ And I'd
often heard her say, arter master had been
abusin' on me, ' I declare, 1 shouldn't be a bit
astonished at all, to see the devil come, and
take dad off, bodily — so there.''
*' Well, while I stood there a cryin', out
comes Julia, and asks me what I was a cry-
in' at? * What's the matter ?' says she.
*' ' Matter 'nough,' says I, ' for master takes
all I can am days and nights, tu.'
" ' What ?' sa)^s Julia, ' dad han't gone up to
Ludlow's arter your painter money f
^* * Yes he has,' I says.
" » Well,' says she, ' it's no mor'n you can
expect from a dumb old hog.'«=^
Now, that speech come from a darter, and
a pretty smart darter tu, and it was jist coarse
'nottgh language to use 'bout master, tu ; but
Miss Julia never was in the habit of makin'
coarse speeches. ' But never mind, Peter,'
says she, * 'twill be time to take wheat down
to Albany, pretty soon, and tlien you'll git pay
for your painter.'
Property in man — sail on the Lake. 69
" * Yis,' says I, ' and I'll git pay for a good
many other things, tu.'
05^ '• Now, Mr. L , I wants to ax you
what reason, or right, there is, in the first
place, of stealin' a man's body and soul, to
make a slave on him f^=£Ji and then for steal-
iji' his money he git s for killin' painters, nights'^
CI?^ But the slave ain't a man, and can't be, a
slave is a thing ; he's jist what the slave laws
calls him, CC?^ a chattel, property, jist like a
horse, and like a horse he can't own the very
straiohe sleeps on. But, never mind, (t/^there's
a judgment day a comin' bim'by.«-£]()' And when
he maketh inquisition for blood, he remem-
bereth them.' You recollect you preached
from that text a Sunday or two ago, and said,
if my memory sarves me right, that, at the
judgment day, God would require of every
slaveholder in the universe, the blood of every
soul he bought, and sold, and owned, as pro-
perty ; for 'twas trafficin' in the image of the
great God Almighty. Ah ! that's true, and I
felt so when you said it."
A. "Why, Peter, it appears that your mas-
ter was not only cruel, but mean.''^
P. ''Mean? I guess he was, why, I'll tell
^0 Susan falls overboard.
you a story, and when I git to the eend on it,
you'll see what mean, means : —
*' We lived near the Lake, and master had
a fine sail boat that cost a good deal of money,
and the young folks round there, that felt
pretty smart, used to sail out in it now and
then, and I was captain. One day there
comes four couples, and they wanted to sail
out on the Lake with our gals, and so out we
went. Susan Tucker, one of the gals, was a
high-Uved thing, and the calkalation was, to
go down about three miles, and the wind was
quarterin' on the larboard side. Well, as I
sat on the starn of the boat, she comes, and
sets down on the gunnel, and I says, * Susan,
that ain't a very fit place for you to set ;' for
the wind was kind a bafilin'. She replies, ' I
guess there ain't any danger,' and she'd no
sooner got the words out of her mouth, than
there come a sudden flaw in the wind, and
that made the main boom jibe, and it struck
her overboard, and on we went, for we had a
considerable headway, — well, I let up into the
wind, and hollered out, ' ain't any body a
goin' to help ?' and there set her suitor scart io
death, and all the rest on 'em. Well, I off
with all my rags but my pantaloons, and I
Pdcr "puts arter her.'' 71
kept them on out of modesty till the last
thing, and then I slipped out on 'em, hke a
black snake out of his skin, and put out. I
swam, I guess, ten rods, and come to where
the blubbers come up, and lay on my face,
and looked down into the water to see when
she come up ; and pretty soon I see her a
comin', and she come up within a foot I guess
of the top, some distance from me, and sallied
away agin. I keep on the look out, and pretty
soon she comes up agin, and as soon as I see,
I dove for her, and went down I guess six feet ;
and my plan was to catch her round the neck,
and when I did, she seized her left arm round
my right shoulder, and hung tight. I fetched
a sudden twist, and brought her across my
back, and riz up to the top of the water, and
started for the shore, and I had one arm and
two legs to work with, and she grew heavier
and heavier, and I looked to the shore with
watery eyes, I tell you. Finally I got all beat
out, and my stomach was filled with water,
and I thought I must give up. Well, while I
stood there a treadin' water a minute, I
thinks I'd better save myself and let her go, and
so not both be drowned. I hated to, but I
shook her off my back, and she hung tight to
72 Both nearly drowned — rescued.
my siioulder, and that brought me on my side;
and I kept one arm a goin' to keep us up, and
cast my eyes ashore, and gin up that we must
go down, and Jist that minute a young man
come swimmin' along, and sings out, ' Pete,
where is she f and I answ^ers, as well as I
could, for I was now a sinkin', and she was
out of sight of him, and says, ' under me,' and
he dove, and catched her under his arm, and
with such force, it broke her loose from me,
and off he put for the shore ; and I gin up that
/must sink, and so down I begins to go, and
I recollect I felt kind a happy that Susan was
safe, if/ was a goin' to die, for I loved her,
and jist then another man come along, and
hollers out, ' Pete, give me hold of your hand.'
I couldn't speak, but I hears him, and I knew
'nough to reach out my hand, and he took hold
on it, and by some means, or other, foucht me
on to his back out of the water, and finally got
me safe ashore : and sure 'nough, there we all
was, and the first thing I knew, he run his
finger down my throat, and that made me fling
up Jonah, and when I had hove up 'bout a gal-
lon of water, I begins to feel like Peter agin,
and I sees I was as naked as an eel, and I set
still in the sand. Well, I looked out on the
A ralegoslin^ — Smarts failier. 73
Lake, and there was the boat, and this feller,
Susan's suitor, was a rale goslin', and so scart,
that he couldn't even jump into the water arter
his lady love ; and there she was a rockin' in the
troughs, {i. e, the boat,) and one of these same
young men that came out arter us, swum out
for her, and catched hold of her bow chain,
and towed her ashore ; and I gits my clothes
out, for up to this time I felt egregious streak-
ed, all stark naked there, and I on with my
clothes, and goes to Susan, and she was a
comin' tu, and as soon as she could speak, she
says, ' Where's Peter?' I says, 'I'm here.
Miss Susan;' and she says, 'and so am I, and
if it hadn't a been for you, I should have been
in the bottom of that Lake." And while we
was a talkin' there, who should come up but
her father, and he says, ' my dear child how
happened all this ?'
" ' Pa,' says she, ' it all happened through
my carelessness ; Peter warned me of my dan-
ger, but I didn't mind him, and I fell off.'
" 'Who saved you out of the water f says
Mr. Tucker ; 'that poor black boy there, that's
whipped and starved and abused so,' says Su-
san ; then she turns round to me, still cryin,*
7
74 Peter rides in Susan'' s lap to Mr. Tucker'' s.
and says 'Peter, have you hurt you much, my
dear fellow ?"
*' 'No, not much, I guess, Miss Susan,' says
I. Mr Tucker then says, ' come darter, can
you walk as fur as the carriage ?'
" ' Yes, Sir,' says she, ' and Peter must go
along with us, tu — come Peter, come along up
to our house.' ' Yes, Peter, come along,' says
Mr. Tucker, a cryin'. ' Yes, Sir,' says I, as
soon ever as I've locked the boat ;' and he says,
*if you'll run, V\\ wait for you.' Well, I did
run, and lock the boat, and put the key in my
pocket, and come back to the carriage, and
says he, ' Git in, Peter.'
'"No, Sir,' says I, Til ?m/Z:.'
" 'Oh! Pa,' says Susan, 'have Peter git in,
I want him with us ;' and, finally, I got in, and
then Mr. Tucker drives on up to his house.
When we got opposite master's, Mr. Tucker
calls out to him, and says, ' I want to take your
boy up to my house a leetle while ;' and he
hollered out 'what's the matter?' So Mr.
Tucker tells him all 'bout it ; and says he,
*' 'Nigger, where's the boat.'*'
'"Locked, Sir.'
" ' Where's the key V
" ' In my pocket, Sir.'
Peter'' s reicardfor his generosity and courage. 75
"'Let's have it!'
" So I handed it out, and when all on us felt
so kind'a tender, and his speakin' so cross, and
not carein' anything for it, oh ! it did seem
that he was worse than ever. ._/~0
*' ' Go,' says he, ' but be back in season.'
Oh ! how stern ! Well, we comes to Mr.
Tucker's house, and Mrs. Tucker cried and
wrung her hands in agony ; and Rebecca, her
sister, cried and screamed, and Edwin, her
brother, made a dreadful adoo ; and Susan
says, ' why, don't be frightened so, for I ain't
hurt any ;' and so we sat down and told all
about it, and talked a good while, and Susan
said, ' but I shall always remember that I owe
my hfe to Peter, and he's my noble friend.'
Well, pretty soon supper was ready ; we all sot
down, I 'mong the rest, although I was ^ poor
black outcast — and Susan, she sat down and
drinked a cup of tea, and they wanted her to
go to bed, but she wouldn't, and she axed me
if I wouldn't have this, and if I wouldn't have
that ; and, in fact, the whole family seemed to
feel grateful, and I think I never enjoyed
myself better than I did at that table. I didn't
think so much of the victuals as I did of the
folks.
76 -Mr. Tuclier gives Peter a suit worth seventy dollars,
" Well, arter supper Mrs. Tucker says, ' well,
Susan, what you goin' to give Peter V
a ' Why, Ma, anything that Pa will let me.'
* Pa says anything, my dear, that Peter wants
out of the store, you may give him.'
" So Pa hands Susan the key and says, ' go
into the store and give him a good handker-
chief, and I'll be in by that time.' So we went
in, and she gin me the handkercher, and then
Mr. Tucker come in, and took down two pieces
of handsome English broad-cloths, — oh ! how
they shone ! one piece was green, and t'other
was blue, and says he, ' Peter, you may have a
suit off of either of them pieces you like best,
from head to foot.'
*' I says, 'I can't pay for 'em, and master
would thrash me, if he knew I bought 'em.'
*' Mr. Tucker says, ' you've paid for 'em
already, and as much agin more ;' and I recol-
lect he said some Bible varse, ' as ye did it
unto one of the least of mine, ye did it unto me.'
And so he measured off two and a half yards
of blue for a coat, and one and a quarter green
for pantaloons, and picks me out a handsome
vest pattern, and three and a half yards of fine
Holland linen for a shirt, and threw in the
trimmin's — and then picks me out a beaver
Mr. TucJcer gives Peter a suit icorth seventy dollars. 77
hat, marked $7 50 — then a pair of shoes, with
buckles, and turns round and says, 'now, Su-
san, you take these things up to the house ;'
and then he gin me a new handsome French
crown, and filled all my pockets with raisins,
and so we went into the house, and Mrs.
Tucker measures me; and Mr. Tucker, says
he, ' now, Peter, you'd better run home, and
say nothin' to master and mistress, but come
up here next Sunday morning, airly.'
'* And so I puts out for home, and next day
Susan sends for 'Lecta and Polly, our gals, and
they stayed there three days, and had what I
calls an abolition meetin' ; and, arter the old
folks was gone to bed one night, 'Lecta comes
to me and says, ' Peter, you've got a dreadful
handsome suit made :' and Polly says, ' yis,
that's what we've been up to Mr. Tucker's so
long about, — we've got 'em all done, and a fine
Holland shirt for you, all ruffled off for you
round the bosom and wristbands, and we want
to go up to Ingen Fields to meetin', next Sun-
day, and I'll ask father to let you drive the iron
grays for us.
" Well, Sunday comes, and I goes and
tackles up the grays and carriage, and 'twas a
genteel establishment, and drove up to the
7*
78 Peters drives the grays and gats to meetin\
door, and 'Lecta tells me to drive up to Mr.
Tucker's, and change my clothes, and leave
my old ones up there ; and so I drove up to
Mr. Tucker's in a hurry, and went in, and Mrs.
Tucker, says she, ' now Peter, wash your hands
and feet, and face clean;' and I did. And
Mr. Tucker says, * now, Peter, comb your
hair ;' and I did. Well, he gin me a comb, and
so I combed it as well as I could, for Hwas all
knots; and then Mrs. Tucker opened the bed-
room door, and says she ' Peter, now go in
there and dress yourself;" and I did; and out
I come, and she made me put on a pair of
clock-stockin's, and she put a white cravat
round my neck ; and Mr. Tucker says, * now,
Peter, stand afore the glass ;' and I did ; and
then I got my beaver on, and there I stood
afore the glass, and strutted like a crow in a
gutter, and turned one way and then t'other,
and twisted one way and then t'other, and I
tell you I felt fine ; and Susan says, ' Pa, there's
one thing we've forgot.' So she runs into the
store and bring out a pair of black silk gloves,
and hands 'em to me, and says, ' be careful on
'em, won't you, Peter,' Then I was fixed out,
and 'twas the finest suit I ever had. It cost
above seventy dollars.
MoreJumse stems peter^sfine clothes. 79
"Well, I took the gals in ; and drove over,
and took our gals in, and off we started for
Ingen Fields. The old folks had gone on afore
us in the gig, and we come up and passed 'em,
and if master didn't stare at me, Til give up.
*' Arter we got there, I hitches my horses,
and starts, and walks along to the 'black
pcvv,'._^ as straight as a candle ; and I out
with my white handkercher, and wipes the seat
off, and down I sot ; and I tell you, there icarn't
any crook in my hack that day.
"And master set, and viewed me from head
to foot, all day ; and I don't b'lieve he heard
one single bit of the sarmint all day — he seem-
ed to be thunderstruck. Well, arter meetin'
we drov^e home, and I shifts my clothes, and
puts the team out, and comes into the house ;
and master gives me a dreadful cross look,
and says, * Nigger, where did you git them
clothes f '
"'Mr. Tucker gin 'em to me. Sir,' I
says.
" ' What did Mr. Tucker give 'em to you
for ?' he savs, in raoje.
"'For savin' Susan's life. Sir,' I answers.
" ' Susan^s life ? you devil ! What right has
Mr. Tucker got to give you such a suit of
80 Peter's things his master'' s property.
clothes, without my hbeity f Hand me that
coat.' And I did, but I feh bad.
*' Well, he took it, and held it out, and says
he, * Why, nigger, that's a better coat than I
ever had on my baclt, you cuss — i/oti ;' and at
that he took it, and flung it on the floor in
rage. I picks it up, and hands it to 'Lecta,
and she puts it in her chist. I had the plea-
sure of wearing that coat one Sunday more,
and then C^ he took it, and wore it out him-
self!.:^
*' The gals says, ' Why, father, hoiv can you
take away that coat ?'
" ' Shet your heads, or you'll git a tunin'.'
"*Well, father, but how Hicill look — and
what will Mr. Tucker'' s folks think of you ?'
" ' Shet your dam heads, or I'll take away
the rest of his clothes ; for he's a struttin' about
here as big as a meetin' house. I'll do as I
please with my nigger^ s things ! QI/^ He's my
property ! \<=£^ It's a dam pity if my nigger^s
things don't belong to me I'^c^
* And with the same propriety, might he say, that his nig-
ger's soul belonged to him ; or, if he possessed salvation by
Christ, that his title to heaven belonged to him. With such
premises, he could logically prove that he could kill his slave,
and do no wrong, as he would innocently kill his ox, or other
Mr. Tucker's opinion of Morehouse. 81
*' Now, Mr. L , he robbed me of myself,
then of my money, and then of my clothes, that
a good man gin me for savin' his darter's
life. Now you see wliat mean, means,
" One day, arter this, I met Mr. Tucker in
the road, and says he, ' Well, Peter, how do
you git along ?' 'Oh ! Sir, well 'nough; only
master has took my clothes away you gin me,
and is a wearin' them out himself.'
" ' What !' says he, * not them clothes I
gin you .^'
" ' Oh ! yis. Sir ; and I thinks it's cruel to
me, and insultin' you most distressedly.'
" ' Well,' said Mr. Tucker, ' he pught to be
hung up by the tongue atwixt the heavens and
'arth, till he is dead, dead, DEAD, without
any mercy from the Lord or the devil.' " «5£]0
A. " Well, Peter, I've seen cruel and mean
things, but that is without exception the mean-
est thing I ever heard of in my life. Where
property. Here we see the legitimate and necessary inference
of this barbarous, inhuman and wicked position, that it is right,
vmder certain circumstances, to own property in man. A man
is not safe, as long as he acknowledges this right; for if he be-
lieves it ever can exist, he will exercise it as soon as circum-
stances are favorable, and become one of the most barbarous
and abandoned of slaveholders in an hour.
82 Peters opinion of his master^ s fate.
do you suppose the wretch has gone to,
Peter?"
P. " He has gone unto the presence of a
God, who hates oppression and oppressors with
all his heart ; and God will take care o/him, I
tell you, and he^ll do it right tu.^^
A. " Yes, Peter, such men are rebels against
Jehovah's government, and it's absolutely ne-
cessary for God to punish them, unless they
reform ; it's as necessary for God to send such
men to hell in the world to come, as it is for
us to hang a murderer, or put him in prison.
And, Peter, which had you rather be, the
slaveholder or the slave ?"
P. " Domine, I'd rather be the most wiser-
ablest slave in the imivarse, here and herearter,
than to be the best slaveholder in creation ; for
T wouldn't, under any circumstances, oitm a
human bein\ The sin lies more in the ownin'
property in a human bein', than in the 'busin'
on 'em, 'cordin' to my way of thinkin'."
A. " You're rights Peter ; and there will be
no progress made in the destruction of sla-
very, until you destroy the right of property
in man ! !
Well enough only for one man. §3
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 — " viastcr
shoots arter him" with a rifle ! ! — a bear story — where the
?kiu 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
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.
Author. *' I've come up again, Peter, to go
on with our story, and you can drive the peg
while I drive the quill."
Peter. '' I had as many friends in that re-
gion as about any other man, I reckon, and if
it hadn't been for 07ie man, I should have got
84 -fcfer lashed to a tree and gashed to pieces.
along very well ; but oh ! how cruel master
was. As I was a tellin' on you, we went on
buildin' the frame house, and in diggin' the
cellar. I was a holdin' the scraper and master
was drivin', and a root catched the scraper and
jerked me over under the horse's heels, and
he took the but eend of his whip, and mauled
me over the head ; and says I, ' master, I hold
the scraper as well as I can, and I wish you'd
git somebody that's stronger than me, to
do it.
" * Come up here,' says he, as he jumps up
out of the cellar, with a halter in his hand, ' and
I'll give you somebody that's strong 'nough
for you.' Well, I got up, and he makes me
strip, and hug an apple tree, and then ties me
round it, and whips me with his ox-goad, while
I was stark naked, till he'd cut a good many
gashes in my flesh, and the blood run dawn my
heels in streatns ; and then he unties me, and
hicks me down into the cellar to hold scraper
agin..^
" At that, one of his hired men, who was a
shovelin', says, ' Morehouse, you are too sav-
age, to use your boy so, I swear ! !' Well, one
word brought on another, till master orders
him off of his premises. ' Out of the cellar,'
A ma7i's Opinion of Morehouse — Xute. 85
says he, in a rage, for jist so soon as he re-
proved him, he biled like a pot, for you know
if a body's doin' wrong, it makes 'em mad to
be told on it. Well, out he got, and says he,
as he jumps out on the bank, ' now, More-
house, if you are a man, come out here tu.'
But master darn't do that, for he was a small
man. * Then pay me :' and master says, ' I'll
be dam'd if I do.' ' Well,' says the man, ' I'll
put you in a way to pay me afore night.' So
it comes night, master rides up and pays him,
and tries to hire him agin; but says he, *I
wouldn't work for sich a barbarous wretch, if
you'd give me fifty dollars a day.'*
* There are certain principles^ developed in
these facts, Avliich the reader ought to notice.
Abolitionists meet with opposition from the slave-
holder, and his abettors, for the same reason that
this man was cursed by the tyrant who had just
lashed Peter ! He was angry with the man, be-
cause he told him the truth. It excited all the ma-
lignity of a demon in his breast to be rebuked.
He knew he was doing wrong, and conscience
made the reproof a barbed arrow to his soul, and
he raved because his pride was mortified, and he
felt disturbed. — So is it now ! The Abolitionists
8
86 Pt^ter look dozen tcith the typhus fever. ^
"By being exposed, and abused, and whip-
ped, and almost starved and frozen to death,
through the winter, in the spring I was took
down with the typhus fever, and lay on a bed
are opposed for the same reason. — They are the
first body of men in America, who have depicted
slavery — they have dissected the fiendish monster,
and brought down the contempt of the world, who
love freedom, upon the head of the southern slave-
holder. They have poured light, like a stream of
fire, upon the whole South,.and disturbed the con-
sciences of the buyers and sellers of souls. And
we see the malignity of hell itself boiling out of
the southern mouth, and southern press ; and poli-
ticians and religious (?) editors, and ministers of
the gospel, are all pressed into the vile and low-
lived business of bolstering up tyrants upon their
unholy thrones, and propping up the darkest, and
blackest system of oppression that ever existed on
earth. These men have not been needed before,
their help was not called for ; — for nothing was be-
ing done to break down slavery. The Coloniza-
tion Society, met with a different fate at the South,
and for this reason it was sustained by all slave-
holders who knew the policy. It was the best
friend the slaveholder ever had — it kept the con-
sciences of the tyrants quiet — it was a healing
A Senator^ s opinion of the Colonization Society. 87
of straw, behind the back kitchen door, six
months, almost dead ; and the doctor come to
see me every day, and finally says he to mas-
ter, 'if you want that boy to git well, you must
plaster just large enough for the sore. — And some
of the most distinguished slaveholders in the Uni-
ted States, some of them officers of the American
Colonization Society, and the most liberal donors
of its funds, told the author of this note, that, they
considered the Society the firmest support slavery
had in the worlds for 'twould keep the North and
the South quiet about their peculiar institutions.
" The Society," said one of them, who was at the
time a member of the United States Senate, " has
carried away about three thousand or four thou-
sand niggers in twenty years^ and the increase
has been over half a million. Noiv, Sir, 1 can
afford, on selfish principles, to give ten thousand
dollars a year to that Society, rather than have
it go down; for when it goes doton, slavery
will go with it, and it will go down just as
soon as it loses the confidence of the people of the
North ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ,^ Xary good reason why
slaveholders should support Colonization !!!!!!
There is not the faintest doubt in creation, that
the great mass of the South wish slavery, under
the circumstances, to continue; and they make
gg Jf Slavery (tus it will die hard.
give him a decenter place to lay than all that
comes tu, for 'taint fit for a sick dog.'
»' So the gals moved me up stairs, in their
arms, and there I lay. They was kind to me
war against the Abolitionists because they want it
to stop, and are doing all they can to put it down ;
(for this is the definition of an Abolitionist ;) just
as the drunkard makes war upon the Temperance
Reformation, because it strikes a blow at Ins idol ;
just as infidels oppose revivals, because they dis-
turb their consciences, and make infidelity con-
temptible. Now, I hesitate not to say, that no sys-
tem of principles, or measures, will ever do away
with slavery, except that system which meets with
the determined, and combined opposition of slave-
holders, and those who are interested in sustaining
the system. For the system that destroys slavery,
must aim a deadly blow at selfishness, and this will
excite malignity, and this will show itself out in the
gall that is poured upon Abolitionists, from the
cowardly and sophistical apologies of Pro-Slavery
Princeton Divines, down to the hard, but not con-
vincing arguments of brick-bats.
The truth is, that the South oppose Abolition,
not because " it has put back emancipation," as
the New York Observer says, — for, in that case,
its champions would be found south of " Mason's
A hard Doctor's bilL 89
durin' my sickness, but master was very indif-
ferent, and didn't seem to care whether I lived
or died. Well, the gals, one pleasant day in
the fall, took me in their arms, and carried
me down stairs, and put me in a little baby
wagon, and drew me 'bout twenty rods and
back, and then took me up stairs agin', oh !
how tired I was, and they did that every day,
till I got so I could walk about, and I shall al-
ways remember it in 'em, tu.
" Well, in 'bout two months arter this, I got
so I could work a leetle, and one day Doctor
Walker comes in with his bill of seventy odd
dollars ; and master says he, ' / icish the dam
and Dixon's line," — but, because Abolition has a
direct, and decided, and tremendous influence in
hurling the system of heathenish, and cruel op-
pression to the ground. But there are some^ a
noble, an immortal few, hearts in the South who
are waiting for the consolation of Africa, who bless
God for every prayer we off'er, and for every con-
vert we gain. And the prayers of every man, and
woman, in the slaveholding states, who longs for
the freedom of the slave, follow the Abolitionists,
and contribute to the spread and triumph of our
principles.
8*
90 -^ tamrea teg of mittton..
nigger had died, and then I should nH had this
money to pay.'' Master payed him off arter
some jaxviug ; but oh ! how savage master was
to me arter this !*
" Well, next Sunday a Methodist preacher
comes along, and was agoin' to preach at In-
g^exi Fields. And so he and his wife come
down to dine with us, and we cooked a leg of
mutton we had on hand, for dinner, and got it
on the table, and all sets down, and master be-
gins to cut it, and come tu, 'twas distressedly
tainted round the bone, and smelled bad.
" Well, master orders it off the table ; and
I goes and knocks over five chickens, and
dresses 'em, and friccazeed them in a hurry,
and got 'em on to the table ; and I guess we
didn't hinder 'em mor'n half an hour.
*' Well, nobody could stand the mutton, it
stunk so ; but master tells the folks to give
me nothin' else to eat ; and I eat, and eat
away upon it, day afier day, as long as I could;
and then I'd tear off bits, and hide 'em in my
* One would think that so long a time for reflection, would
have softened the poor tyrant's heart — but it is no easy matter
to eradicate the tyranny which is fostered in the bosom of the
possessor of irresponsible power.
Peter buries li—^r rises Jrom the grave. 9 1
bosom, and carry 'em out, and fling 'em away,
to git rid on it ; and one night, when it stunk
so bad it fairly knocked me do\vn, I takes the
whole frame and leaves for the lot with it, and
buries it ; and thinks, says I, now the old
mutton leg won't trouble me any more.
01?** But it happened, that a few days arter
this, that we was ploughin' that lot, and he
was holdin' the plough ; and fust he knows,
up comes the mutton leg, and fust he looks at
it, and then at me, and takes it up, and scrapes
the dirt off on it — and oh ! how he biled ! — and
says he, ' You black devil, what did you hide
that mutton for ?' And he took the whip out
of my hand, and cut me with it a few times ;
and says I, ' Master, I won't stand this ;' and
off I run towards the house, and he arter, as
fast as we could clip it ; and he into the house
and gits the rifle, and I see it, and oh ! how I
cleared the coop into the lots ; and as I was
a goin' over a knoll, he let strip arter me, and
I hears the ball whistle over my head. I tell
ye, how it come I — and I scart enemost to
death.
" Well, I wanders round a while, my heart
a pittepattin' all the time, and finally, comes
back to the house. But I see him a comin*
92 Morehouse " shoots arter^^ Peter twice.
with the rifle agin' as I got into the lot, and I
fled for shelter into the shell of an old hemlock-
tree left standin', (you've seen such arter a lot
is burnt,) and he see me, and he let strip agin',
and whiz went the ball through the old shell,
about a foot over my head, for I'd squat down,
and if I hadn't he'd a fixed me out as stiflf as
a maggot. He comes up, and sings out, ' You
dead, nigger ?' ' Yis, Sir.'
" ' Well, what do ye speak for, then, you
black cuss f' Then he catches hold on me,
and drags me out, and beats me with a club,
till I icas dead for arnest^ enemost ; and then,
lookin' at the hole in the tree, he turns to me,
lyin' on the ground, and says, ' Next time I'll
bore a hole through i/ou, you black son of a
bitch. Now drive that team, and straight, tu,
or you'll catch a junk of lead into you.'
" Well, I hobbled along, and we ploughed
all day ; and come night, I boohooed and cried
a good deal, and the children gits round me,
and asks, ' What's the matter, Peter ?' I tells
'em, ' Master's been a poundin' on me, and
then he shot arter me, and I don't know what
he win do next.' Julia speaks, and says, ' I
declare it's a wonder the devil don't coine and
take father oflf.'
Sympathy from " the gals" — a bear story. 03
" He orders the family not to give me any
sapper ; but arter he'd gone to bed, the gals
comes along, and one on 'em treads on my
toe, and gin me the wink, and I know'd what
it meant ; and so I goes into the w^ood-house,
and finds a good supper laid on a beam, where
I'd got many a good bite ; and went off to bed
with a heavy heart.
" But, as I hate to be a tellln' bloody stories
all the time, I'll jist give you a short one 'bcftat
a bear ; for I was as mighty a hand for bears
as ever ye see.
"One night I w'ent along arter my cows
into the woods, a whistlin' and a singin' along,
with the rifle on my shoulder, a listenin' for
my cow-bell, but couldn't hear nothing on it ;
and so on I goes a good ways, and hears no-
thin' yit ; and I'd hearn old-fashioned people
say, you must clap your ear down on the
ground to hear your cow-bell, and I did, and I
hears it away towards the house ; and so for
home I starts ; and it gits to be kind'a dusk-
ish ; and the first thing I hears or sees, was
right afore me, a great big- black bear, that riz
right up out of the scrub-oaks, and stood on
his hind feet ; and I was so scart, I didn't
know how to manage the business ; and there
94 Peter put ahcixt two fires.
I Stood atwixt two evils ; one way I was 'fraid
of the dark, and t'other I was 'fraid of the
bear ; and finally, I starts and runs from him,
and he jist then down on his legs and put arter
me. Well, I turns round and faces him, and
he riz up on his hind feet agin', and kind'a
growled. Atwixt me and him, there was a
small black oak staddle, and thinks I to my-
self, if I can git to that, I can hold my gun
steady 'nough to shoot him ; but then I was
afeard I shouldn't kill him; and if I didn't he'd
kill me. However, I starts for the staddle ;
and he kind'a growled, and wiggled his short
tail, and seemed to be tickled to think I was
a comin' towards him. As quick as I got up
to the staddle, I cocked my piece, and aimed
right at his brisket, atwixt his fore legs, as
near as I could, and fired — and run; and never
looked behind me, to see whether I'd killed
my adversary or not, and put for the house as
fast I could. Well, up I come to the house,
so short-winded, that I puffed and blowed like
a steam-boat ; and old master says he, * What
you shot, nigger V
" ' A bear. Sir.'
*' ' Where is he V
Peter loses the skin — ckurclies. 95
" * In the scrub-oaks, out there ; and I
b'lieve I killed him, tu.'
*' 'Killed him? you black puppy; go and
git t'other rifle, and load it.' And I goes.
* Now,' says he, ' start back for your bear ;
and if you han't shot any, I'll shoot i/ou.^ And
so back I goes ; and master follows along be-
hind me, half scared to pieces, for fear my
dead bear would bite him.
Well, come to the scrub-oaks, there lay my
bear a strugglin', with his fore-paws hold on a
scrub-oak, a twistin' it round and round, and
then master steps up, as resolute as an Ingen
warrior, to shoot him, and he first made me
fire into his head, and then he fired into his
heart ; and when we'd killed him dead, we
draws him to the house and skins him ; and I
think 'twas the fattest bear I ever see in all
my life.
Well, that fall master went to Philadelphia,
and he takes that skin with five others I'd kill-
ed, that he'd already got the premium on, and
sold 'em in Philadelphia — and in all, they come
to over one hundred dollars, bounty, skins, and
all, to say nothin' at all 'bout meat ; and he never
gin me a Bungtown copper out of the whole.
QQ Peter s adccntures in a Cn^np tii'iedn^.
Noj not enough to buy a pinch of snutf, or a
chew of tobacco.*
A. " Were there any churches in that re-
gion ?"
P. "Yis, Sir; there was two of our gals
belono^ed to the Methodist meetin' — Julia and
Polly, and I used to have to drive them to
meetin' every other Sunday, to a place about
four or five miles ofF, towards Auburn, called
Plane Hill. Every season we used to have a
Camp meetin', at what's called Scipio Plains,
and used to have to go and strike a tent and
carry down the family, and wait on 'cm till the
meetin' was over. AVell, the most I can recol-
lect about them meetin's was, they used to
make a despod hollerin' and shoutin'. Some
would sing 'glory hallelujah, and 'amen,' and
some, ' I can see Jesus Christ, I see him a
comin', I see him a comin',' and I was jist fool
enouo^h to look and see if I could see him, but
I never see anything.
*'One Camp meetin' we had I went to, and
paid strict 'tention, and it seemed to me that
* Another exemplificatiou of the abominable doctrine of the
right of property in man ! Concede this right, and his master
did right, and Peter ought not to comphiin.
Peter^s opinion of religion — •' cuts stick." 07
a part of the sarmint was aimed at me, straight,
but I was so ignorant that I didn't take the
sense on it. In what they calls their * prayin'
circles,' there was a colored man — quite an
old man, but mighty good, for he made a great
prayer ; and while he prayed, a good many old
and young cried, and shed a good many tears.
Well, seein' them cry, made me cry, I 'spose,
for I can't assign any other reason ; and this
colored man see me cryin' and he comes tome
and says he, ' my son, do you want religion f
' Yis, Sir,' says I, ' what is religion ?' He
speaks in a kind of a broken language, and
says, ' Religion is to do as we do — sing and
shout and pray, and call on God ; and don't
you want us to pray for you?'
*' ' Yis, Sir,' says I, 'I wants every body to
pray for me.'
" So he speaks to a minister, and says I
wants to be prayed for ; and so they gits into
a ring, and crowds round me Hke a flock of
sheep round a man that's got a salt dish, I
don't want to make a wrojjg comparison, but I
can't think of nothin' else so near like it. Then
this white minister tells me I must git down on
my knees ; and so down I gits, and they begins
to pray, and shout, and sing, and clap their
98 Pclo- gets scart hy the hreihren like tarnation.
hands, and I was scart, and looked two or three
times to git a chance to cut stick and be off,
but I couldn't find a place to git out of the ring ;
and I tell ye, thinks says I, ' if this is religion^
Tve got ^nough on it, and Fll be off.^ They prayed
God would send his ^ power,'' and convart that
'ere colored boy ; and so while they was shout-
in' right down hard for me, one of our gals,
Polly, I believe, gits what they calls ' the pow-
er,' and they kind'a left me and went over to
her; but some on 'cm stuck by me, but they
didn't seem nigh so thick, and I was right glad
of that, I tell ye, and as quick as I got a chance,
I got out of the ring, and made tracks, and
cut like a white head ; and when I got a goin'
I didn't stop till I got down to the horses, and
that was half a mile; and when I got there,
the old woman that kept the tavern (she knew
me) says, ' why, Peter ! what's the matter ?'
" ' Matter,' says I 'matter enough; they got
me into a ring up there, and scart me half to
pieces, and I made off, I tell ye ; and if scare-
in' folks makes 'em religious, I'll be a good
Christian arter this as any on 'em, for they
scart me like tarnation.'' Well, goin' home
that night, the gals talked to me a good deal
'bout religion. They used to be a good deal
No more religious Jits very soon — tied up in the woods. 99
more religiouser 'bout Camp meetin' times
than any other times, and they'd try to git me
to pray, and larn me how; and come up into
my chamber arter the old folks had gone to
bed, to tell me 'bout religion, and all that; and
so, arter this meetin' I used to pray some, and
when I went arter my cows, I'd git behind some
big tree, and pray as well as I knew how, and
so every time I got a chance, I'd keep it up,
for six or seven months, and then I'd git all
over it, and I could swear as bad as ever ; and
by this time the gals had got kind'a cold, and
didn't say much 'bout religion ; and that's the
history of all my religion then. And arter this
scare I tell on, I didn't have any more religious
fits very soon.
" Prayin' in the woods makes me think of
bein' tied up there. Once master gits mad
with me, cause I didn't plane cherry boards
'nough, and he takes me out into the woods,
and ties me up, 'bout dark, and says he, ' now
stay there, you black devil, till mornin'.' Well,
he\l ivhipped me rare afore this, and there 'twas
dark as pitch, and the woods full of all kinds of
live varmints, — a sore back, and enemost
starved ; and I tell ye if I didn't scream jist Hke
a good fellow, I'll give up. I hollered jist as
100 Peter ichippea raw — Morehouse owned a still.
loud as I could bawl, and there I stayed a good
while, afeared of bein' eat up by varmints every
minute. Finally, a man who hears me, comes
up and says, * whose tliere ?'
*' ' Peter,' says I.
'"And what's the matter ?'
*' ' Matter 'nough ! Master's whipped me
raw, and enemost starved me, and tied me up,
and is a goin' to keep me here all night.'
" ' No, he ain't 'nother.' And at that he
out with a big jack-knife, and cut the rope ;
and I says, ' Thank'ee, Sir ;' and off he went.
But I warn't much better off now, for I darn't
go to the house, for there I should git it worse
yit ; and so I went to the fence, so if any wild
thing come arter me, I could be on the move ;
and there I stood, and hollered, and bawled,
and screamed, till I thought it must be near
mornin' ; and finally, one of the gals comes
out to untie me ; and if ever I was glad to see
a woman's face, 'twas then ; but if there'd
been fifty wild beasts within a mile on me,
they'd been so scart by my bawlin', that they'd
made tracks t'other way.
" But up to 'bout this time, I used to have
some sunny days, when I'd enjoy myself pretty
v/ell. But I don't think that for five years,
Morehouse gets to he a drunkard — ichips his " gals.^' lOl
my wounds, of his make, fairly healed up,
afore he tore 'em open agin' with an ox-goad,
or cat-o'-nine-tails, and made 'em bleed agin'.
But I've not told you the worst part of the
story yit. Master got to be more savage than
ever, and so cruel, that it did seem that I
couldn't live with him. He got to be a dread-
ful drunkard, and d?' owned a share in a
still ; c^ and he used to keep a barrel of
whiskey in his cellar all the time ; and he'd git
up airly in the mornin', and take jist enough to
make him cross ; and then 'twas ' here, nigger,*
and ' there, nigger,' and ' every where, nigger,'
at once.
" He got to be sheriff, and then he drinked
worse than ever ; and when he come home,
he used to 'buse his wife and family, and beat
the fust one he'd come to ; and I'd generally
be on the move, if my eyes was open, when
he got home, for he'd thrash me for nothin'.
And I've seen him whip his gals arter they got
big enough to be young icomen groicn, in his
drunken fits ; and many a time I've run out,
and stayed round the barn, for hours and hours,
till I was nearly froze, from fear on him ; only,
sometimes, when I knew he would thrash some-
body, he was so savage, Pd stay in doors, and
9*
1 02 Peter sent to mill at nigfd — most froze.
let his rage bile over on me, rather than on the
gals ; for I couldn''t bear to have them beat so,
"One day he tells me to git up the team,
and go to drawin' wood to the door. I used
to have nothin' to eat generally, but butter-
milk and samp, except, now and then, a good
bite from some of the gals or neighbors. The
buttermilk used to be kept in an old-fashioned
Dutch barrel-churn, till 'twas sour enough to
make a pig squeal. Well, I drawed wood all
day, and one of the coldest in winter, and eat
nothin' but a basin of buttermilk in the morn-
in', and so at night I goes to put out the team,
and he says, ' Nigger, don't put out that team
yit ; go and do your chores, and then put up
ten bushels of wheat, and go to mill with it,
and bring it back to-night ground, or /'// rvhip
your guts out.''
*' Well, I hadn't had any dinner or supper,
and it was a tremendous cold night ; but
'Lecta puts into the sleigh one of these old-
fashioned cloaks, with a hood on it, and says
she, -Don't put it on till you git out of sight
of the house, and here's two nut-cakes ; and,
if I was in your place, I wouldn't let the horses
creep, for it's awful cold, and I'm 'fraid you'll
freeze.'
Peter raums home from the mH}. 103
** Well, I come to the mill, which was ten
miles off, and told the miller my story, and
what master said, with tears in my eyes ; for
my spirit had got so kind'a broken by my hard
lot, that I didn't seem to have anything manly
about me. d?' Oh ! how you can degrade a
man, if you'll only make him a slave ! ,^
" The miller says, * Peter, you shall have
your grist as soon as possible.' And T set
down by the furnace of coals, he kept by the
water-wheel to keep it from freezin', and be-
gun to roast kernels of wheat, for I was dread-
ful hungry. He axed me to go in and eat;
but I didn't want to. And so about twelve
o'clock at night I got my grist, and starts for
home, and gits there, and takes good care of
every thing ; and then I begins to think about
my own supper. The folks was all abed and
asleep ; but I finds a basin of buttermilk and
samp down in the chimney-corner, and I eats
that ; and, if any thing, it makes me hungrier
than I was afore ; and I sets down over the
fire, and begins to think!* „x][)
* Thought must ultimately prove the destruction
of all oppression. Man is a being oj| intellect ; and
if^his mind is not so benighted by ^rkness, or be-
104 Ptter determived to hive justice.
" I had had many a time of thinkin' afore,
but I had never before felt master's cruelty as
I feh it now. Here he was, a rich man ; and
I had slaved myself to death for him, and been
a thousand times more faithful in his business
than I have ever been in my own ; and yit I must
atai'vc. I felt the natiir'' of injustice inost keenly,
and 1 bust into tears, for I felt kind'a broken-
hearted and desolate. But I thought tears
wouldnH ever do the ivork ! ^^ I axed myself
if I warn't a man — a human bein' — one of
God's crutters : and I riz up, detarmined to
have justice ! .^JJ} ' And now,' says I, ' I may
immbed by oppression, light will find its way into
liis soul ; and his natural love of freedom, and his
consciousness of liis inalienable rights, will show
him the claims of justice, and the deep and awful
guilt of slavery ; and then he will win his way to
liberty, either by fight or blood. Humanity may
be so chafed by repeated acts of cruelty and abuse,
that any means will seem justifiable^ in the sight of
the being who is to use some means for his release,
if he ever ceases to groan. It is wisdom, then, to
make the slave free while we can ; for, as sure as
God made man for freedom, so sure he will ulti-
mately be free, in one way or another.
Br carts open the cupboard — catclied at it. 105
as well die for an old sheep as a lamb ; and
if there is any thing in this house that can
satisfy my starvation, I'll have it, if it costs
me my life.'
" So I starts for the cupboard, and finds it
locked, and I up with one of my feet and staves
one of the panels through in the door, and there
was every thing good to eat ; and so I eat till I
got my Jill of beef, and pork, and cabbage, and
turnips and 'taters ; and then I laid into the
nicknacks, sich as pies, cakes, cheese and sich
like. Well, arter I'd done and come out, and
set down by the fire, master opens his bedroom
door and sings out, ' away with you to bed, you
black infernal nigger you, and I'll settle with
you in the mornin', and he ripped out some
oaths that fairly made my wool rise on eend,
and then shets the door. Well, thinks I, if I
am to die, and I expected he'd kill me in the
mornin', I'll go the length of my rope, and die
on a full stomach. So I goes to an old-fashion-
ed tray of nut-cakes, and stuffs my bosom full
on 'em, and carries 'em up stairs, and puts 'em
in my old straw bed, and I knew nobody ever
touched that but Pete Wheeler, and I crawled
in and I had a plenty of time to think.c^^DO
*' In the mornin' the old man gits up and
106 Peter hung up in the barn naked.
makes up a fire, a thing he hadn't done afore in
all winter, and then comes to the head of the
stairs, and calls for ' his nigger;' and I hears a
crackin' in the fire, — and he'd cut a parcel
of withes — walnut, of course, and run 'em
into the ashes, and wythed the eends on 'em
under his feet, and takes 'em along, — and a
large rope, — and hits me a cut and sa3's, ' out
to the barn with me, nigger ;' and so I follows
him along.
" Well, come to the barn, the first thing he
swings the big doors open, and the north wind
swept through like a harricane. ' Now,' says
he, * nigger, pull off your coat ;' I did.
*' ' Now pull off your jacket, nigger ;' I did.
" ' Now off with your shirt, nigger;' I did.
*' 'Now off with your pantaloons, nigger;' I
did.
" ' And be dam quick about it too.'
" Arter I gits 'em off, he crosses my hands,
and ties 'em together with one eend of a rope,
and throws the other eend up overhead, across
a beam, and then draws me up by my hands
till I clears the floor two feet. He then crosses
my feet jist so, and puts the rope through the
bull-ring in the floor, and then pulls on the
rope till I was drawn ti^ht — till my bones fairly ^
Whipped till blood isidesform on his heels. 107
snapped, and ties it, and then leaves me in that
doleful situation, and goes off to the house»
and wanders round 'bout twenty minutes ; and
there the north ^Yind sweeps through : oh ! how
it stung; and there I hung and cried, and the
tears fell and froze on my breast, and I wished
I was dead. But back he comes, and says he,
as he takes up a icitJie, ' now, you dam nig-
ger, I'm a goin' to settle with you for breaking
open the cupboard,' and he hits me four or five
cuts with one and it broke ; and he catches up
another, and he cut all ways, cross and back,
and one way and then another, and he whip-
ped me till the blood run down my legs, and
froze in long blood isicles on the balls of my
heels, as big as your thumb ! ! c::£0 • • ^^^^ I
hollered and screamed till I was past hollerin'
and twitchin', for when he begun, I hollered
and twitched dreadfully ; and my hands was
swelled till the blood settled under my nails and
toes, and one of my feet hain't seen a well day
since : and I cried, and the tears froze on my
cheeks, and I had got almost blind, and so stiff
I couldn't stir, and near dyin'. How long he
whipped me I can't tell, for I got so, finally, I
couldn't tell when he icas a whippin' on me ! ! !
' Oh ! Mr. L."- ,' " said Peter, as the tears
108 Peter froze stiff.
rolled down his wrinkled cheeks, while the pic-
ture of that scene of blood again came up
vividly before his mind, *' 'oh! Mr. L. , it
was a sight to make any body that has got any
feelin' weep^^ and there I hung, and he goes oiT
to the house, and arter a while, I can't tell how
long, he comes back with a tin cup full of brine,
heat up, and says he, ' now nigger, I'm goin'
to put this on to keep you from mortifyin,' and
when it struck me, it brought me to my feelin',
I tell ye ; and then, arter a while, he lets mo
down and unties me, and goes off to the house.
" Well, I couldn't stand up, and there the
barn doors was open yit, and I was so stiff and
lame, and froze, it seemed to me I couldn't
move at all. But I sat down, and begins to
rub my hands to get 'em to their feelin', so I
could use 'em, and then my legs, and then my
other parts, and my back I couldn't move, for
'twas as stiff as a board, and I couldn't turn
without turnin' my whole body; and I should
think I was in that situation all of an hour,
afore I could git my clothes on.
" At last I got my shirt on, and it stuck fast
to my back, and then my t'other clothes on,
and then I gits up and shuts the barn doors, and
waddles off to the house ; and he sees me a
Se7it to tlie woods choppin*. 109
comin', and hollers out ' nigger, go and do your
chores, and off to the woods.'
*' Well, I waddled round, and did my chores
as well as I could, and then takes my axe and
waddles off to the woods, through a deep snow.
I gits there, and cuts down a large rock oak
tree, and a good while I was 'bout it, tu, and
my shirt still stuck fast to my back. I off with
one eight foot cut, and then flung my axe down
on the ground, and swore I'd die afore I cut
another chip out of that log that day ; and I gets
down and clears away the snow on the sunny
side of the log, and sets down on the leaves,
and a part of the time I sighed, and a part of
the time I cried, and a part of the time I swore,
and wished myself dead fifty times.
" Well, settin' there I looked up and to my
surprise I see a woman comin' towards me;
and come to, it turned out to be my old friend
'Lecta, and the first thing she says, when she
comes up was, * ain't you 7nost dead, Peter .^'
' Yis, and I wish I was quite, Miss 'Lecta ;' and
she cries and I cries, and she sets down on the
log and says, * Peter, ain't you hungry ? here's
some victuals for you ;' and she had some warm
coflfee in a coff'ee-pot, and some fried meat, and
some bread, and pie, and cheese, and nut-
10
110 'Lecta a friend In ncea — CiUey and Graves.
cakes ; and says she to me, ' Peter, eat it all up
if you can.'
A. "Why! Peter what would become of
the world, if it warn't for the women ?"
P. " Why, Sir, they'd eat each other up, and
what they didn't eat, they'd kill. Then they
keep the men back from doin' a great many
ferocious things. Why, only 'tother day when
that duel was fit in Washington, between
Graves and Cilley, the papers say that Mrs.
Graves, when she found out that the duel was
a comin' on, tried to stop her husband, but he
w^ouldn't hear to her, and so he went on, and
killed poor Cilley, and made his wife a widder,
and his children orphans. Now, only think
how much misery would have been spared, if
he'd only heard to his wife.
" « Well,' says 'Lecta, ' I wouldn't strike
another stroke to day.' And then to be un-
discovered, she goes up to a neighbor's and
stays there all day. So at night I goes home,
and does my chores the best way I could. So
I carries in a handful of wood, and master
says, * how much wood you cut, nigger ?' ' I
don't know, Sir.' ' One load ?' ' I don't know,
Sir.' * How many trees you cut down !' * One,
Sir.' 'You cut it up.?' *No, Sir.' 'Well,
Master foams — Abers interferes. \\\
tell me how much you have cut, dam quick,
tu.' * One \og off. Sir.' At that he catches
up his cane, and throws on his great coat, and
fetches a heavy oath, and starts off for the
woods. I sets down in the corner, with a
dreadful ticklin' round my heart ; and the chil-
dren kept a lookin' out of the winder, to see
him comin', and in he comes, frothy, he was
so mad. Mistress says to him, ' possup,'
which means, ' stop,' I 'spose, and then he
went into the other room to supper.
Finally, I crawls into my nest of rags, and
I laid on my face all night, I couldn't lay any
other way ; and next mornin' after tryin'
several times, I made out to git up and go
down, and do my chores.
"Arter breakfast, Mr. Abers, his brother-in-
law, come down, and says he, ' Gideon, what's
your notion in torturin' this boy, so f If you
want to kill him, why not take an axe and put
him out of his misery ?' Master says, * is it
any of your business V < Yis, Sir, 'tis my
business, and the business of every human be-
in' not to see you torture that boy so. You
know he's faithful, and every body knows it,
and a smarter boy you can't find any where
112 Aholkion in a nut-shelL
of his age.* Master then colours up, with
wrath, and says, ' you or any body else, help
yourself ! I'll do with my nigger as I please —
he's my property, ^jy^ and I have a right to
use my own property, as I please. You lie.
* Here is Abolition, and its opposition in a nut-
shell. Abolitionists, are those who claim that if
a fellow-man is suffering, it is the business of his
brother to help him, if possible, and in the best
way he can. Accordingly, we lift up our voice
against the abominations that are done in this
land of chains, and whips, and heathenism, and
slaves ! Who are our opposers, and revilers, and
enemies 1 They are men who donH believe it to he
their business, to interfere with the rights of the slave
breeder, and slave buyer, and slaveholder, of the
United States. Their creed will let them stand by
and look at a brother bleeding, and groaning, and
dying under a worse than high-way robbery, and
yet 'twill bind their arms if they would extend a
helping hand — 'twill stop their mouths if they wish
to plead for the dumb. Oh ! my soul ! who that
respects the claims of humanity, ain't ashamed to
disgrace man so 1 What philanthropist who wants
to see all men rise high in virtue, and happiness,
ain't ashamed to hold one set of principles for me?i
Property in man. \ 13
that it's any of your business to interfere with
my concerns.'*
" ' Don't, you give me the He again,' says
Abers, * or I'll give you what a Uar deserves.'
Well, master give him the lie agin, and Abers
took him by the nape of the neck and by the
britch of his clothes, and flings him down on
the floor, as you would a child, (for master
in freedom^ and another for men in chains. What
christian don't blush, to urge as an excuse for chil-
ling and freezing his sympathies for the slave, " the
legislation of the country forbids me to help a
brother in distress."
* The old corner stone of the whole edifice- —
OC^ 'property in man. «>£][) 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 ! </]Q But I'm
glad I can pray to God for the poor and oppres-
sed, if I am a black man ; and I think it can't
be a long time afore all the slaves go free —
there is so many thousands of christians all
prayln' for it so arnestly ; and so many papers
printed for the slave, and so many sarmints
preached for him, and sich a great struggle
agoin' on for him ail over creation. Why all
this is God's movin's, and nobody can't stop
God's chariot wheels." ^Jj^
A. *' Well, Peter, you've come to a stopping
place now, and I think we'll close this book,
for I suppose you'll have some sea stories to
tell."
P. " Yis, Domine. I shall have some long
yarns to reel off when I gets my sails spread out
on the brine, for I think the rest of my history is
mo touch to my sailor's life. But one thing, it
Close of the Book. 151
won't be so sorrowful, if 'tis strange; for, if I
was rocked on the wave, I had this sweet
thought to cheer me, as I lay down on my ham-
mock, {5j^r?nfree;^Jj;i and dreams of liberty
hung round my midnight pillow, and I was
happy, because I was no longer Peter Wheeler
in chains."
Thoughts suggested by the incidents of the
First Book,
It may be profitable and interestmg to notice
some of the principles involved in the foregoing
story. The history of Peter Wheeler in Chains,
is a rich chapter in the tale of oppression and
slavery in America. The horrors and bar-
barities here recorded, ought not to go forth
before the citizens of a free nation, without
producing an appropriate and powerful im-
pression, that will give impidse and triumph to
the principles of our constitution. A ^ew plain
thoughts occur to the reader of this history,
which we will notice : —
I. We see the necessary and legitimate in-
fluence of irresponsible power, upon its pes-
1 52 Influence of irresponsible power.
sessor and victims. It is one of the broad
principles of the bible, and of our republican
government, that it is not safe to place irre-
sponsible power in the hands of a fallible being,
under any circumstances; for, in every recorded
instance of the world's history, it has been
abused, and produced unmixed misery.
When young Nero assumed the purple of
imperial Rome, his heart revolted at the
thought of tyranny, and when first asked to
sign a criminal's death-warrant, his hand re-
fused to do its office-work, and he exclaimed,
"Would to God I had never learned to write."
And yet, under the influence of irresponsible
power, he at last became so transformed, that
he illuminated his gardens with the bodies of
burning Christians, and danced to the music of
a drunken fiddler while Rome was on fire! As
man is constituted, he is not equal to a posses-
sion of unhmited power, without abusing it.
Experience confirms all this, and common
sense too. And if the history of every slave-
holder in creation could be unfolded, we should
see that every hour his character acquired new
and worse features. Even if he did not grad-
ually become more hard and tyrannical in his
treatment of his slaves, yet it would be seen
Slavery demoralizes the master. 153
that his own heart was constantly losing its
higher and nobler qualities, and the dark trail
of oppression, like the course of the serpent,
was leaving its foul and polluted stain upon all
it touched. Slavery 7nust call forth malignant
and unholy passions in the breast, and their
repeated exercise must harden and pollute the
heart. It degrades the whole man^ — for there
is not a faculty or propensity of the being but
what is tainted by the foul breath of slavery.
The reader must have remarked the steady and
rapid moral defilement which was going on in
Peter's master, till at last he was plunged into
the deepest degradation, which sought his death.
Oh ! who can conceive of a degradation more
complete than that which made its subject
exult in the thought of torturing a poor black
boy, even unto death ! There are noble and
generous hearts in the South, who feel, most
keenly, the debasing influence of slavery upon
the father's, and the husband's, and the lover's
heart ; and they are w^eeping, in secret places,
because every green thing around the social
altar is burned up by this withering blast. The
author of this note has heard the lamentations
of daughters and wives, whose homes have
been made desolate by the foul spirit of tyranny,
1 54 Tears of Southern mothers and icives.
and their longings and prayers for a brighter
day, which shall regenerate the South by eman-
cipating the slave. Oh ! how can man become
viler than to hunt down the poor fugitive slave,
like a blood-hound, when he has cast off his
fetters, and is emerging into the light and glory
of freedom. The first impulse of a generous
or benevolent heart would be joy, to see the
poor victim break away from his bondage, and
go free, in God's beautiful world. Let us hear
no more of the desire of the South to emanci-
pate their slaves, when every fugitive is tracked
by blood-hounds, till he crosses the waters of
the St. Lawrence, and finds shelter under the
throne of a British Queen. In most instances,
slavery will make the master thirst for the
blood of the slave who escapes from his chains ;
and let this fact bespeak its influence on his
heart.
II. Opposition to anti-slavery principles, is
no new thing under the sun. We should con-
clude, from the reasoning of some, in these days,
that all efforts made to suppress slavery, which
elicit the opposition of the South, must be wrong,
for, say they, " slavery can be destroyed with-
out any opposition from the slaveholder !"
Monstrous ! ! ! what f the most stupendous
Any remedy for slavery will he opposed at the South. 155
Structure of selfishness and abominations on
earth, be uptorn without opposition or convul-
sion ! As well may you say, that God could
have emancipated the Hebrew^s, without exci-
ting so much opposition from their masters !
The truth is, that the doctrine was never
broached till these latter days, that freedom
could be achieved without a struggle. As
well say that our fathers could have achieved
the independence of '76 without opposition. The
experiment was made for twenty years, by co-
lonizationists, to do away v/ith slavery, without
opposition, and, accordingly, they were obliged
to mould their scheme and plans to suit the
South, so as to avoid opposition ; and the South
succeeded, and gave them a scheme which
would transport to a dark, and desolate, and
heathen shore, to die of starvation, four or five
thousand, while the increase was 700,000, ^^
to say nothing of the old stock on hand. Good
reason why the South should not oppose such a
plan. They would display unutterable folly in
their opposition.
Slavery/ is one of the strongholds of hell, and
it is not to be torn down without a struggle, any
more than satan will surrender any other part
of his kingdom without opposition. Peter's,
156 Slavery cannot make slaves contented.
master was enraged at any reproof or interfe-
rence from others, that came in collision with
his tyranny, and so it is now .
III. We see, also, that the slave, in all ages,
thinks so badly of slavery, that he is disposed
to run away, if he can. This is enough to say
about slavery. Men are not disposed to run
away from great blessings. And yet we are
told, constantly, by the South, that the slaves
are contented and happy with their masters.
Now, if this is true, it only makes slavery worse ;
for what kind of a system is that which degra-
des a man so low, and prostrates all his better
and more glorious attributes to such degrada-
tion, that thelove of liberty is crushed in his soul;
that no heaven-directed thought is hfted for the
high enjoyments of an intellectual and bright
being ; that he is stripped of all that he receiv-
ed from Jehovah, which elevates him above
the worm that crawls at his feet. Oh ! fellow-
man beware ! if you have succeeded so com-
pletely in defacing the lineaments of divinity
in the human soul, that all the glorious objects
of creation will not draw forth from his bosom
a thought or a wish after a brighter abode.
If the gay carol of the wild bird, or the fresh
breezes of morning which bring it to his ear.
Slavery cannot hill Uie whole man. 157
or the stars of heaven, as they roll in their
orbits, or the bright dashing of the unfettered
waters which sweep by, or the playful gambols
of the lamb that skips and plays on their banks ;
or, above all, if the spirit of the Eternal Father,
which breathes nobility and greatness into the
soul of his children, does not fan the fires of
liberty in his bosom; oh! fellow-man, if you
have so completely dashed to oblivion and no-
thingness, an immortal spirit, you have done a
deed at which all hell would blush ; you have
covered the throne of the Eternal in mourning.
If this be true, you are worse than you have
ever been described.
But, Sir, your whole enginery of death has
never accomplished such a total destruction as
this. You may have degraded mind, and you
have, but oh! thanks to God, you have not
made such awful havoc with a deathless spirit
as this. No ! you have only poured gall into
wounded spirits ; you have only torn open
deeply lacerated bosoms ; — you have only
plucked the most glorious pearl from man's
diadem ; you have only heaped insult upon a
son or a daughter of God Almighty, who is re-
deemed by the blood of the Lamb ; — and your
stroke or bolt of wo, that unchained the spirit,
14
] 58 ^^fiy thousand slaves run away every year.
only open a passage-way for it to the gates of
eternal glory. But, you have done enough
God knows ! You have done enough to heap
np fuel for your own damnation; and en-
circled by those faggots, "you shall burn, and
none shall quench them," through eternal ages,
unless you are cleansed by atoning blood.
The truth is yet to be told. The slave is
not contented and happy — more, no slave in
the universe ever was, or can be contented, till
God shall strip him of his divinity which makes
him a man. T have conversed with several
thousands in bondage, and many who have got
free, and never did I hear such a sentiment fall
from human lips. It is estimated by facts al-
ready in our possession, (viz. the numbers who
win their way to freedom, and those who are
advertised as run-aways who are caught,) that
more than fifty thousand slaves attempt their
escape from bondage every year. And yet so
anxious are their masters to still bind the
chains, that many of them are chased over one
thousand miles. What bare-faced hypocrisy
in a man, to give money to transport to an in-
hospitable and barbarous clime, a worn-out
slave, and yet to chase his brother ons thou-
Tfie debasing meanness of Slavery. 159
sand miles to reduce him again to bondage, or
to death ! !
IV. The loio and base meanness of slave-hold-
ing. Nothing is accounted meaner than theft
and stealing ! ^sy^ And yet OC?^ every slave-
holder is necessarily a constant, and perpetual
thief. ^J^ He steals the slave's body and
soul. And if there is one kind of theft which
is worse than all others, it is to steal the wages
of the poor, three hundred and sixty-five days
in the year ! It would be accounted very
mean in a rich man, to employ a poor day la-
borer and then follow him to his home at night,
after the toils of the day were over, and steal
from his pocket the price of his day's labor,
which he had paid to him to buy bread for his
children, and such a man w^ould be called a
wretch all over the w^orld ; — and yet every
slaveholder as absolutely steals the slave's
wages every night — for he goes to his dwelling
and family, if he have one, pennyless after a
day of hard toil. It w^ould be considered the
worst kind of meanness to go, and divide, and
separate by an impassable distance the mem-
bers of a poor family ; and yet not a slave lives
in the South, wdio has not at some time or
160 Danger of the principle— property in man.
Other, seen the same barbarous practice in the
circle of his own relationship, and love.
It is the necessary and legitimate inference
of the master, from the doctrine oithe right of
property in man^ that all the slave possesses or
acquires belongs to the one who owns him.
Accordingly, Morehouse had a perfect right to
the broadcloth coat which Mr. Tucker gave
Peter for saving the life of his daughter. The
whole difficulty, the grand cause of all the bar-
barities of slavery, lies in this unfounded and
infamous claim of the right to own, as property,
the image of the Great Jehovah. Destroy this
claim, and slavery must cease forever. Ac-
knowledge it in any instance, or under any cir-
ciwistances, and the flood-gate is flung wide
open to the most tyrannical oppression in an
hour. This was illustrated in the case of Dr.
Ely, of Philadelphia, who pretended to be " op-
posed to slavery as much as any body," and
yet who still maintained that corner-stone prin-
ciple of tyranny, " that it is right imder certain
circumstances to hold man as property.'' He
removed to a slave state, and found that "these
circumstances" occurred. He lought a slave,
Ambrose, with, (as he declared,) henevolont de-
signs, intending to spend the avails of his un-
The experiment satisfactorily made. 161
requited labor, in buying others to emancipate.
He was expostulated with by his brethren in
the ministry, and out of it, against the sin of his
conduct in owning a fellow-man^ and making the
innocent labor without reward, to free the en-
slaved. And " the hire of the laborer which
he kept back cried to God." He was told of
the danger of owning a man for an hour, by a
keen-sighted editor of New York ; and this
same editor uttered a prophecy which seemed
almost like the voice of inspiration, that God
would pour contempt upon such an unholy ex-
periment, "of doing evil that good might come."
But still the Doctor passed on, and heeded it
not. At length, after that prophecy had been
forgotten by all but the friends of the slave, its
fulfilment came from the shores of the Missis-
sippi, and God had blasted the Doctor's un-
righteous scheme, and his speculations all fail-
ed, and poor Ambrose was sold to pay his
master's debts. .^ Then the experiment
was fairly, and one w^ould think, satisfactorily
made, and the principle was settled fore ver by
God's providence, that " it is wrong under any
circumstances to hold man as property.''' AVe
want the slaveholder to give up his unholy, and
unfounded claim to the image of God, and when
14*
162 Influence of oppression upon its victim.
he will practically acknowledge this principle,
then he will cease to be a slaveholder.
V. We see, in the light of this story, the
debasing, degrading, and withering influence
of slavery upon its poor victim. Peter tells
the truth, when he says, " no man can hold up
his head like a man if he is a slave." Any
person who has been on a southern plantation
must confess, that there is a degraded and ser-
vile air upon the countenance of all the slaves.
A more abject, low, vacant, inhuman look,
cannot be seen in the face of a being in the
world, than you see when you meet a southern
slave. It is not the tame and subdued look of
a jaded beast. It is infinitely more painful to
behold a slave than such a spectacle. He
seems to be a man with the soul of a beast ;
God's image does not speak from his dim and
lustreless eye, or his lifeless and degraded
bearing. You see a human form, but you
cannot see the image of his 3Iaker and Father
there. The slave loses his self-respect, and
all regard for his nature. He is shut out from
all the lovely and glorious objects of creation ;
and a soul which was made to soar upward in
an eternal flight towards its Sire, is smothered,
and debased, and ruined ; — its existence is al-
A slave '. — What is lie 1— The Judgment will anstoer. 163
most blotted from creation, and when it leaves
its abused and lacerated house of mortality,
the world does not feel the loss ; — the dei>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, <fcc. <fec., and all these things is jist
what improves the whites so fast. And if we by
hook or by crook git into any sich place, why
some feller will step on our toes, and give us
a shove, and say, ' stand back nig, you can
see jist as well a little furder off.
" Now all these things is what keeps us so
much in the back ground ; for if we have a
chance, we git up in the world as fast as any
body. For there is smart and respectable co-
lored folks ; and you sarch out their history,
and you'll find that they once had a good chance
to git larnin', and they jumped arterit. I think
one of the greatest things the abolition folks
should be arter, is to help the free people of co-
lor to git up in the world, and grow respecta-
ble, and educated, and then we will prove false
what our enemies say, ' that we are better off
in chains than we be in freedom.' "
BOOK THE SECOND.
PETER WHEELER ON THE DEEP.
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
feathers in his cap— St. Bartholomews— climate — slaves—
oranges — turtle — a small pig, " but dam' old" — weigh an-
chor for New York — "sail hoi" — a wreck — a sailor on a
buoy — get liim 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."
Author . *' Where do you hail from to day,
Peter.?"
Peter. " From the street, where I've found
some folks that makes me feel bad."
A. " What now, Peter .?"
P. "Why, there's some folks that feels en-
vious and flings this in my face — ' Oh ! you've
got to be a mighty big nigger lately, han't
15*
174 Sea-stories — IVeigk anchor.
ye ? and you're agoin' to have your life wrote.'
And this comes principally from people of my
own colour, only now and then a white person
flings in somethin' to make it go glib ; but the
white folk round here generally treat me very
kindly."
A. " Well, don't revenge yourself, Peter ;
bear it like a man and a christian. Now let
us launch out on the deep."
P. Well, we'll weigh anchor, — but it won't
do for me to tell every thing that happened to
me in my sea v'iges, for 'twould fill fifty books ;
and so I'll only tell some things that always
seemed to please folks more'n the rest :
I followed the North River all that summer
I run away, and in the fall of that year Cap-
tain John Truesdell sold his sloop and engaged
to go out to sea as master of a large vessel for
a company of New York merchants.
*' So, on the 22d of October, 1806, at nine
o'clock we weighed anchor for St. Bartholo-
mews, and bore away for the Narrows. Arter
we'd got out some ways, I turned back to
take one look at my old native land, and I felt
kind'a streaked, and sorry and grieved, and you
may say I felt kind'a rejoiced tu, for if I was
a goin' away from home and country, out on
Sails for St. Bartholomeics. 176
the wide waters, I'd got my liberty, and was
every day gettin' it stronger,
"We had a fine ship ; she was one of the
largest vessels in port, and she carried twenty
guns, for she was rigged to sail for any port,
and fight our own way. We had thirty-seven
able-bodied men besides officers ; and in all,
with some officers, about fifty men aboard.
When we'd been out nearly two days, towards
night, we looked ofi" ashore, and the land look-
ed bluer and bluer, till all on it disappeared,
and nothin' could be seen but a wide waste of
waters, blue as anything, and the sun set jist
as though it fell into a bed of gold ; and when
the moon riz she looked jist as though she
come up out of the ocean ; and the next mor-
nin', when the mornin' star rose, he looked
like a red hot cinder out of a furnace. Well,
we all looked till we got out of sight of land,
and then some went to cryin' and / felt rather
ticklish ; but most on us went to findin' out
some amusements. The sails was all filled
handsome, and she bounded over the waters
jist like a bird. Some on us went to playin*
cards, some dice, and some a tellin' stories,
and he that told the fattest story was the best
feller.
17b Shake hands with a French Frigate.
*' Next day 'bout nine in the mornin', we
spied a French frigate on our larboard bow,
bearin' right down upon us, and first she hail-
ed, "ship ahoy!" Captain answered, and
the frigate's captain says, "what shipf"
" Sally Ann, from New- York." The French-
man hollered, " drop your peak and come un-
der our lee." And he did, and he come on
board our ship with twelve men, and captain
took 'em down into the cabin, and hollers for
me, and says, ' bring twelve bottles of madei-
ra ;" and so I did, and stepped back and listen-
ed, and there they talked and jabbered, and I
couldn't understand 'em any more'n a parcel
of skunk blackbirds ; but our captain could
talk some French. Well, they stayed aboard
I guess, two hours, and examined the ship all
through, and then they left, and boarded their
ship, and they fired us two guns, and we an-
swered 'em with two stout ones, and then we
bore off under a stiflf breeze. This is what
sailors calls shakin' hands, and wishin' good
luck, this firin' salutes.
** The fifth day about ten o'clock A.M. there
comes up a tremendous thunder storm, and
the waves run mountain high, and it blowed
as thousrh the heavens and arth was a comin*
Thunder-storm at Sm. 177
together ; and the wind and storm riz till two
o'clock in the arternoon, and increased ; and
we drew an ile cloth over the hatch comin's
and companion way. And all the sails was took
down, every rag on 'em, and we sailed under
bare poles ; and the log was flung out, and we
found we was a runnin' at the rate of fifteen
knots an hour ; and there come a sea and swept
every thing fore and aft, and it took me, for
I'd just come out of my caboose, and swept
my feet right from under me, but I hung fast
to the shrouds ; and there wave arter wave
beat agin us, and swept over us clean. And
oh ! dear me suz, the lightnin' struck on the
water and sisscd like hot iron flung in, and the
thunder crashed like a fallin' mountain, and
the sailors acted some on 'em pretty decent,
and the rest on 'em like crazy folks. They
ripped, and swore, and cussed, and tore dis-
trcssedly ; and one old feller up aloft reefin'
sail, his head was white as flax, cussed his
Maker, 'cause he didn't send it harder.
" Oh! how I trembled w^hen I heard him i
Why he scart me a thousand times worse than
the lightnin'. 'Bout nine at night we tries
the pumps, and finds three feet water in the
hold, and then eight men went to pumpin' till
1 78 Thunder-storm at iSea.
the pumps sucked, and the captain looked
pretty serious I tell ye; and 'bout twelve o'
clock the storm vrent down, and all was quiet,
only the sea, and that was distressedly angry ;
and the next mornin' 'twas as calm, as the
softest evenin' ye ever see.
" Captain comes round and says, ' boys,
old Neptune will be round to-day, and make
every one pay his bottle or be shaved,' and
sure enough, 'bout eleven the old feller comes
aboard with an old tarpaulin hat on, and his
jacket and breeches all tore to strings, and the
water running otF on him, and says, * captain
you got any of ray boys aboard ?' ' Yis, here's
one ;' and he p'inted at me. ' Well boy, what
have you got for me to day ?' ' A bottle of
wine,' says I ; and he says '• now I'm goin' to
swear you by the crook of your elbow, and
the break of the pump, that you will let no
man pass without a bottle or a shave.' So he
goes round to all on board and then goes
away. The captain told me he was ' old
Ne])tune, and lived in the ocean ;' but I was
detarmined to foller him ; so on I goes arter
him, and I finds him snug hid under the cat-
head a changin' his clothes, and then he comes
on deck, and I charged him that he was the
A bottle or a shace from old Neptune. 179
old Neptune, and finally he confessed it, and
said 'twas the way all old sailors did to make
every raw hand, w hen they got to sich a spot
in the ocean, pay his bottle or be shaved with
tar, soap, and an iron razor.
" Along in the day, captain calls all hands on
deck, and says, ' we've had a pretty hard time
boys, and now we'll rig a new caboose, and
clear up, and then we'll splice the main brace ;'
and 'twas done quick and well, for grog was
ahead.
•' The captain says to me, ' now cook, you go
down and draw that ten quart pail full of wine,
and give every man a half a pint ; and drink
and be merry boys, but let no man get drunk.
Well, I got a good supper, and arter that a
jollier set of fellers you never seed. We was
runnin' under a stiff breeze from N. W. and all
•sails well filled; and we had sea stories, and
songs, and music, and all kinds of amusements,
and the captain was as jolly as any body.
" Well, arter bedtime, the captain says,
* cook, you must be my watch to-night,' and
he comes and tells me jist how to manage the
helm ; and he turns in, and I managed it tcell,
for I'd managed his old sloop on the river, but
this was somethin' more of a circumstance ;
180 Peter gets two considerable feathers in his cap,
and afore the watch was up, I got so I could
manage a ship as well as the fattest on 'em,
and a tickelder feller you never see.
" In the mornin' the hands praised me up ;
and the captain says, ' why, he's the best man
aboard, for he can do mi/ duty ;' and that made
me feel good, and I got two considerable fea-
thers in my cap that time.
" But I must hurry on. We made St. Bar-
tholomews in nineteen days from New York,
and sold cargo, and took in a load for Porto
Rico, and there filled up with sugar and molas-
ses, and put out for New York. The climate
there was hot enough to scorch all the wool off
a nigger's head. The fever was ragin' dread-
fully in another part of the island, and we
didn't, any on us, pretend to go ashore much.
The sand was so hot at noon 'twould burn your
feet, and the white inhabitants didn't go out
at all in the middle of the day ; but the niggers
didn't seem to mind the heat at all ; bare-foot-
ed, bare-headed, and half-naked ; yis, more'n
halt a considerable, and it seemed the hotter
it was the better they liked it. But they suf-
fered a god deal, and they'd come aboard our
ship and try to make thick with the crew.
They talked a broken Ungo, kind'a Ginney, I
Stories about thz West- Indies— a iconderful pig . Jgl
s'pose ; and they called white folks * buddee,*
and they'd say, ' buddee give eat, and I give
buddee orange.' And so at night, they'd fetch
their oranges aboard, and give a heap on 'em
for a few sea-biscuit, and I tell ye, them oran-
ges wan't slow. One night, five or six on 'em
fetched a big sea turkle aboard, and we bought
him and paid a kag of biscuit for him, and he
weighed two hundred and seventy pounds, and
the fellers seemed dreadfully rejoiced, and pat-
ted their lips and bellies, and laughed, and kiss-
ed the captain's feet, and laughed and seemed
tickled enough, and off they went. Next day
another feller come aboard, and says, * Cappy,
you buy fat pig ?' ' Yis, and when will you bring
himf ' Mornin' Cappy.' So, in the morniii*
he come aboard with his pig ; he was small, but
terrible fat ; and so the captain pays him and
looks at him, and says, 'Jack, your pig is
small.' ' Oh ! massa, he's small, but dam old.'*
Oh ! how the captain laughed ! and he used
that for a bye-word all the v'yge.
" Well, we cooked the turkle, and sich meat
I never see ; there was all kinds on it, and if
we didn't live fat for some days I miss my
guess. I was a goin' to throw the shell over-
board, but the captain hollered and stopped
16
Ig2 Something ahead.
me, and so he saved it and sold it in New- York
for a good sight of money ; and finally, arter
bein' in the islands some time, we weighed an-
chor for New York.
" We'd got 'bout half way home, and one
day the cabin boy was aloft, and he cries out,
» Sail ho!'
" ' Where away ?' ' Over the starboard quar-
ter.'
" ' How big ?' * As big as a pail of water.'
" ' Bear down to her, helmsman, and you
cook, bring my big glass.' So I brings it, and
'twas a big jinted thing, and 'twould bring any
thing ever so fur off as nigh as you pleased.
Captain looks and says, * It's a man on a
buoy.' And as we got nearer, sure enough we
could see him ; and the captain cries, ' down
with the small boat, man her strong, pnt out
for him and handle him carefully.' And bein'
pretty anxious, I was the first man aboard,
and we come along side on him and lifts up his
head, and he says in a weak voice, ' Oh ! my
God ! don't hurt me ! !' And we lifts him np,
and still he hangs to the buoy, and we told him
to let go. And he says, ' I will, if you won't
let me fall ;' and we told him we wouldn't, and
he let go reluctantly, and we took him in j and
A man on a Imoy taken from a wreck. 183
his breast, where he lay on the buoy, wixsworn
io the hone^ where he'd hugged it, and the mo-
tion of the waves had chafed him so. Well,
we got him down in a berth, and the captain
tries to talk with him, but he couldn't speak,
and we changes all the clothes on him that was
left, and feeds him with cracker and wine ; and
the captain sets and feels of his pulse, and says
once in a while, ' he's doin' well' : and then
he fell asleep, and slept an hour as calm as a
baby, and the captain told me to wash him in
Castile soap-suds, and says he, ' we'll have a
new sailor in a hurry.'
*' I prepares my wash and he wakes up, and
says, * how in the name of God did I come
here?' so we told him, and the captain says,
' you hungry ?' ' Yis.' And I fed him a leetle
more and washed him ; and oh ! how he swore,
it smarted so. * Where's the captain,' says he.
* Here.' ' Captain, have you got any rum T^^
And so he ordered him some weak sling, and
arter this he seemed a good deal stronger, and
then the captain sets his chair down by him,
and asks him who he was and where he come
from ?
" He says, * my name is Tom Wilson, and
I was born in Bristol, England, and hved there
1 84 ^ great sailor, but an ajcfid iciched man.
till I was sixteen, and then sailed for Boston,
and followed the seas twenty years, and at last
was pressed aboard an English man of war in
London. I escaped, and got on board a French
ship, and started for America in a merchant-
man. We'd made 'bout half v'yge when a
tremendous storm riz, and we was stove all to
pieces, and every body and every thing went
down, for all I know, and I took to a big cork
buoy as my only hope. The last I see of the
wreck was two days arter this. Well, I hung
to my buoy, and floated on, and on, and it got
calm, and it got to be the fifth day, and I
thought I must give up. I lost all sense ene-
most, and didn't know what did happen, till 1
beard your boat come up, and then my heart
fluttered ; and now is the first time for days I
know what I am about. And this is the
second time I have been cast away and not a
man aboard saved but myself. How long I
was aboard the buoy arter I lost my sense, I
can't say, but it seems to me it was some days,
but I an't sartin. Now captain, if I get well,
make me one of your men.'
*' The captain says, ' I will, Tom.'
*' Well, he got up fast, and eat up 'most all
creation, he was so nigh starved ; and when
Peter jumps ashore a free nigger. 185
he got able to work ship-tackle, he turns out
to be a great sailor, but an awful wicked
man, for every breath heaved out an oath.
" Well, in twenty-one days from the West-
Indies, we made the New York Light, and
then there was rejoicin' enough I tell ye. 1
know I was glad enough, and as soon as we got
hauled up, I jumped ashore and the first thing
says I,
'' Here's a Free Nigger."«^
16*
186 P^^^^ prepares to go and see John Bull.
CHAPTER II.
Peter spends the winter of 1806—7 in New-York', sails .-n
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,
«fec. lead to a trial, and the murderer hung ; the mother of the
lady visits the ship ; sail for home ; Peter sails with captain
Wilhams on a trading voyage ; Gibraltar; description of 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."
Author, " What did you do in New York,
Peter f"
Peter, " We laid by and unrigged for win-
ter, and the captain sent to Troy and had his
family brought down to the city, and I lived in
his family that winter as servant ; and I had
fine times tu, for he was a noble man, and
lived as independent as a prince, in Broadway,
nigh where the Astor House stands. I had a
fine winter of it, and come spring he hired the
Carnapkin, one of the biggest and best ships
in port, and all rigged. W^e w^eighed anchor
A storm. — a shark reveals a murder. 187
for Bristol, and this was rare sport for me,
for we was a goin' to see old John Bull.
*' When we'd been out about seven or eight
days, we was overhauled by a tremendous
storm from the north-east ; and it grew worse
and worse, and about midnight she lay on her
beam ends for some time, and we expected to
go to pieces ; and the second mate sounded the
hold and found four feet water in her, and
that started the hair. We got the pumps a
goin' and pretty soon the captain hollers out,
* she rights,' and glad enough we was ; and the
carpenter found her leak, and makes all tight,
and by next day all was clear as a bell. The
captain foundhimself ofFof his com'se over two
hundred miles, and so he hauls on agin ; and
in about twenty days we made sight of the
white coast of old England, and there we was
becalmedfor two days, and didn't stir a mile.
" The captain says, ' now boys, you may go
and fish till we git a breeze.' Well, we hadn't
been out lung afore we fell foul of a shark, and
the first thing he knowed he had the harpoon
in him, and we got him aboard, and then we
calculated on a great hurrah, and sure enough
we did have a melancholy one tu. The captain
says, * now let's ha^'e his liver cooked,' for you
188 ^7^6 mother sees the relics of her murdered child.
see a shark's liver is a great dish at sea. And
so I goes to work and cuts him open, and what
do you think I found there ?
*' Why the first thing I found was the haiid
of ahu7nan person, and on the middle finger was
a gold ring, and on it 'twas wrote who she was
in Spanish characters. The captain stands by
and says, ' dig carefully a leetle furder and see
what you find.' So on I dug with my butcher
knife, and up comes a gold chain ; and I pulled
away and out come a gold locket, and it had a
lock of hair in it, and a name on it. We hunt-
ed along and found human bones, and nails of
fingers partly dissolved,
"Well, the captain sings out, * fling the
monster overboard, for we won't have any
thing aboard that devours human flesh ; and
cook you clean that locket and hand, «fec., as
clean as you can.' And so I did, and the hand
we preserved in rum, and the captain kept all
of 'em till we got to port, and then we found
out the eend on it, and all about it.
*' Well, we made port, and then the captain
advertises the story of the shark ; and the day
arter this there come a splendid carriage to
the dock, and who should it be but a Spanish
lady, and she was in great splendor tu, and
The motJicrs grief. ISQ
she comes aboard and calls for the captain ;
and he waits upon her with great respect down
into the cabin, and her servant goes down with
her, and she spoke in broken English, and
asks him all about the shark, and then he tells
all about it, and then showed her the hand ;
and when I brought it she broke out into ' my
God !' and she seemed to be grieved and vex-
ed, and broken down, and yit spunky by turns ;
and then she'd say, as she looked at the locket
and hand and ring, * sacra venga,' and swear,
and her face would look red and pale by turns ;
and finally she turns to the captain and says,
* Sir, this was my child,' and says she ' there
was a young Spaniard engaged to my daugh-
ter, and they walked out one evening towards
the water-side, and that's the last I've heard
of my child till now. He went to his own lodg-
ings that night and was inquired of for her, but
giv e no answer, and they made great sarch for
her, but nothin' could we hear. It always
seemed to me he killed her, but I couldn't git
any evidence of it, and so I let it rest, and this
happened nearly two weeks ago, and to day,
you and your crew must come up and testify
to the whole transaction.' So she left.
That arternoon, four gentlemen come in a
190 Th trial— a Royal court— the confession.
coach to the ship, and we had to go up to the
City Hall, I guess 'twas ; a large stone build-
ing, and it had great pillars in front on it, and
I looked at it good I tell you, for 'twas the
handsomest buildin' I ever see. So we got
there, and they put us all into a room and
locked us up ; and we stayed there till two
o'clock, and then a man come and took out
the captain, and then me, and I was sworn,
and told the whole story ; and then all the crew
was fetched on, and testified the same thing ;
and the cabin-boy, when he finished his testi-
mony, says, 'and I believe this lady was killed
and flung overboard by some body,' and he said
it with some courage, tu ; and at that a young
Spaniard of a dark complexion and long black
eyebrows that come round under a curl at the
corner of his eye, and oh ! how black his eye
was, and he had long mustaches on his upper
lip, and a big pair of whiskers, and I tell you
he looked as though he could murder as easy
as you could eat a meal of victuals. But he
looked kind'a chopfallen, and up he got, and
says he, 'I'm the man — I flung her off the
wharf, and I give myself up to the law ;' you
see he had been taken and brought to the bar.
Then the king's Attorney Gineral, spoke to
T!ie speech of the Attorney General. 191
this prisoner, and I tell you he was dressed
splendidly. He had on an elegant blue coat
and satin vest, and black satin pantaloons, and
buff pumps, and he had on a girdle of red mo-
rocco, and it had a gold plate in front, and it
had a big star on it, and his head was powder-
ed in great style, and he fixes his eyes on the
Spaniard like a blaze of fire, and says, * pri-
soner, deliver up that knife in your sleeve f and
at that the Spaniard slips a ribbon off of his
wrist and drew out a knife like what we call a
Bowie knife in this country, and handed it to
the Attorney, and I tell ye if the Spaniard
didn't look beat !
"And then his lawyer got up and made a
smart plea for him and set down ; but then you
might know he was a rowin' agin the tide, for
he was a pleadin' for the devil himself.
" Then the Attorney Gineral got up, and
says, ' My Lords and Judges, and Gentlemen
of the Jury, &c. <fec.' And if he didn't make
a splendid plea then I'm no judge — I once
could tell all about it, for you see I was all ear
when them big fellers spoke and we all talked
it over on the v'yge so much, and what one for-
got 'tother recollected, and then besides 'twas
published in the Bristol papers ; and once I
192 The American Court.
could say it all to a T, and I only wish I could
remember it word for word, it would be sich
great stuff for this book. But my memory
has kind'a failed me for a few years ; only I
know the Gineral made all on us cry, he talked
so fine, and I do remember the closin' off say-
in'. * My Lords, I have now finished the de-
fence for the crown, and I submit the case to
your lordships, feeling that your verdict will
respect the rights of the throne and the liber-
ties and safety of its loyal subjects. My Lords
I have done.' And down he sat.
" And there that big room — it was as big as
the whole of our big red barn — was crowded
full as it could stick and hold, and there was
a'most all nations on 'arth there. And I tell you
if I didn't feel fine to git up afore my lords, (as
that ere Attorney Gineral called 'em,) and all
them big bugs, and tell about that poor lady
there ; and there agin I was treated better than
I ever was in an American court in my life ; for
I never got up in a court room in this country to
give testimony or see a black man^ icho warnH
rather laughed at by somebody. Well, when
the Attorney Gineral had finished, three of
these 'ere lords I tell on went into another
room, and staved there a i^w minutes, and
Thr sentence — the creic rcturnitd to the ship. \ 93
come back, and then the chief lord of the es-
tabUshment got up, and drew on a kind of a
black cap, and commanded the attention of all
present, and the room was so still you could
hear a pin drop. The prisoner was fetched
forward, and the Judge turns to him and
says : —
*' * By the testimony of Captain Truesdeli
and crew, and by your own confession, I find
you, accordin' to the laws of our king and
country, guiUy of this murder ; and have you
any thing to offer why sentence of death should
not be pronounced upon you V The Spaniard
shook his head, and then the Judge pronounced
his doom.
"' In the Name of the King of the Realm,
and by the Authority of Almighty God, I sen-
tence you to be executed this evening at half-
past six o'clock, until you are dead^ dead,
DEAD ; and may God have mercy on your
soul.'
"Well, the sheriff took the prisoner and
ordered us to be sent back in a large carriage
and four milk white horses to the ship.
Next mornin' at ten o'clock the Spanish la-
dy came aboard, and went down in the cabin
with the captain, and sot there and talked a
17
194 Tlie execution— gd homa—'S.i'd for W-M Iniias.
good while about the affair, and cried a a^ood
deal, and when she got up she put her hand
into her httle huzzy and took out twenty doub-
loons, and give 'em to the captain, and told
him to divide that with his crew, and she calls
for me and gives me a half-joe, and says she,
* I give you that for bein' so good as to find my
darter,' and she went off, and I had a doub-
loon and a half-joe, and that night we heard
the Spaniard was hung.
" Well, we lay in port about four weeks,
and we had fine times and see a good many
big characters, and I was in England arter
this, and I see some of the biggest kind of
bugs they got, and I'll tell about that when I
git to it. Well, we took in a load of goods,
and weighed anchor for home, and had as fine
a passage as ever was sailed over the brine.
We made New York and the hands was all
paid off, and I had one hundred and sixty dol-
lars in specie except a little on the Manhattan
Bank. Then I quit Captain Truesdell, and
he gin me a recommend, and I hired to Cap-
tain James Williams, and we hadn't been in
port but four weeks afore 1 sailed with him
for Gaudaloupe. We started in November,
on Sunday mornin' jist as the bells begun to
Rock of GU)ralter a pokerish looking place. 195
ring for church, and weighed anchor for the
West Indies, and then I see the difference
atwixt the sailor's Sunday and a Yorker's,
and it made me feel kind'a serious and rother
bad.
" The captain had started on a tradin' and
carryin' v'yge ; so when we'd cruised rouna
some months in the West Indies, we took a
load and sailed for Gibralter, and if that Gib-
ralter warn't a pokerish lookin' place I never
see one. We come into the bay and cast an-
chor under the fort, and they fired three guns
over our ship, as a shakin' hands, to let us
know we was welcome, and then the captain
and officers had to go ashore and account for
themselves. As we lay there and looked up,
we could see three tiers of cannon one above
another, and soldiers with blue coats trimmed
with red, and horseskin caps (as I calls them)
paradin' there. And as soon as the captain
got leave of tradin' back and forth from the
governor, all these 'ere cannons was drawn
back.
" The English colors way fly in' from the
top of the Rock, and at twelve o'clock every
day the drums beat, and they played what they
called ' The roast beef of old England.' In the
mornin' the revelie beat and six cannon was
] 90 African coast.
fired from the fort, and if any armed ships lay
in the harbor they answered 'em ; and every
single hour in the night we could hear the sen-
tinel's heavy tread on the Rock, and his cry,
ten o'clock and all's well, eleven o'clock and
all's well, &c., and so he kept it up all night.
Some on 'em told me they'd had distressed
times round the old Rock afore this. About
the time of our Revolutionary War the
French and Spaniards leagued together and
got hundreds of ships and thousands of
sogers together, and battered away at the
old fort, and shot more red hot cannon balls
agin it than you could shake a stick at ;
but they only went ' bum, hum,' and shiver-
ed the Rock a little, and fell down into the
sea, and they attacked the fort on the land
side and worked away there, day arter day,
but they didn't hurt a hair of the old Rock's
head, and finally they agreed to quit it. — Why
Sir, all the nations on the globe could not take
that fort. The English will always have it
till the eend of the world. Well I looked up
through the straits, and it did look beautiful ;
I could see the African shore ; yis, the same
Africa where so many millions of my poor
brothers and sisters had been stole and carried
off into slavery — oh ! I felt bad. Well, we
Chased by a Privateer. 197
sold our load of provisions to the governor of
the Rock, and bought a few things and start-
ed for England.
" When we'd been out four days we was
chased by a privateer, and once they got in a
quarter of a mile on us, but we had the most
canvass, and we histed the sky scrapers, moon
rakers, and star gazers, and water sail, and a
good wind. But they fired on us all the lime
they was near enough. They chased us two
days, and then we fell in with a French frigate,
and they hailed us, and wanted to know if
we'd seen a privateer along the coast, and so
the captain told all about it and they gin three
cheers and bore away arter her.
" In a few hours we heard a dreadful can-
nonadin', and a great cloud of smoke riz out
of the sea, and we concluded they'd overhauled
her, and we left her in good hands. We sail-
ed on for Bristol, and arter we'd been there
five days, the news come that a French frigate
had captured a Spanish privateer, but didn't
take any of her crew, for no sooner than they
found themselves taken than they blew up their
ship.
" We stayed in Bristol some time, and start-
ed at last for New York. On our passage out,
17*
198 -4 toreck — the phantom ship.
we come across a wreck, and we sailed within
forty rods on her, and sent out a small boat,
and there warn't a livin' soul aboard to tell
the story, and there she lay bottom side up,
and as handsome a copper bottom as ever you
see ; but we couldn't do any thing with her,
and so we left her and sailed on.
*' About a week arter, we was a sailin' along
afore a pleasant breeze, and the moon shinin*
on the waters, and they looked like melted sil-
ver, the first thing we knew up come a seventy-
four gun ship right alongside, her guns run
out, and men standin' with burnin' torches jist
ready to fire, and we felt streaked enough, for
we expected to be blown up every minute, and
there we stood a trembUn' and didn't dare to
say one word ; and she passed right by and
never fired a pistol, and in one minute she was
out of sight — she come and she went and that's
all you can say. Now that's what the sailors
call ' the phantom ship.'' You see there's no
ship about it, only some curious appearances
on the sea, that always scares sailors, and
makes them think they are a goin' to be cap-
tured. Well, we had a fine v'yge home, and
made the New York light the first of Novem-
ber, arter a cruise of nearly twelve months.
Pdcr in Ketc York. I99
T didn't like Captain Williams, and I quit him,
and he paid me off one hundred and fifteen
dollars, and I had now two hundred and fifty
dollars, and I kept it safe. And a part of the
time I went round New York with a saw-buck
on my shoulder, and part of the time I was a
gentleman at large in the big city — and so I
spent that winter.
200 Pct^r hires out to Captain Bainhridge.
CHAPTER III.
Peter sails for Gibraltar 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
landing 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 the West Indies widi Captain Thompson — returns to
New York and winters with Lady Rylander — sails with
Captain Williams for Gibralter — fleet thirty-seven sail —
cruise up the Mediterranean-^Mt. Etna—sails to Liverpool —
Lord Wellington and his troops — war between Great Bri-
tain and tlie 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.
Peter. " The next spring in the fore part of
May, I saw Captain Bainbridge on the Batte-
ry, and he hails me and says, ' don't you want
a berth for a summer v'ge ? I says, ' yis Sir,'
and then we bargains about wages ; and I
was to have twenty-five dollars a month, and
Sail to Gihraker. 201
he told me to go to the Custom-house in the
mornin' ; and so I did, and several others he'd
seen, and we all hired out, and he gin me a
steward's perquisites and twenty-five dollars a
month. So we goes aboard his fine new ship
jist built in New Bedford, and 'twas one of the
best I ever see ; and she was to sail in a week
on Monday, and all on us agreed to be aboard,
by ten o'clock ; and by ten o'clock all on us was
there to a man, and we received our orders,
and they was mazin' strict, for he was the
strictest captain I ever sailed under, but a fine
feller with all — sound, good hearted and a hail
feller well met.
*'We all hands stood on deck, and a sight of
passengers, and we'd bid our waives and sweet-
hearts all farewell, and at twelve o'clock, noon,
we weighed anchor for Gibralter. The pilot
took us out to sea — she was a little steamboat,
for only two or three years afore this, Fulton
got his steamboat invented on the Hudson.
Well she left us 'bout three o'clock and bid us
all ' goodbye ;' and a nice evenin' breeze sprung
up, and we spread all sail and cut the waves
like any thing. And so 'bout midnight I goes
on deck, and looked and looked ashore, but
the shore of my country was hid, for weM
moved on so brisk, it had disappeared. We
202 A storm at sea.
had a beautiful time till we'd sailed eight days ;
and one day afterwards the breeze grew
stronger, and the moon shone and played over
the waters, till it looked like silver; and such
an evenin' I hardly ever see be at sea.
*' Well next day, at one o'clock, a dark aw-
ful cloud riz up out of the northeast, and it got
so the lightnin' played along the edge of the
cloud pretty briskly afore it covered the sun.
The thunder rattled like great chariots over a
great stone pavement. Captain orders all
hands to their posts, and begun to reef and
make all fast, and cover the hatches, and pre-
pare for a storm. Finally the cloud covered
the whole face of the heavens, and the captain
says ' attention all hands ! Now fellow sai-
lors be brave, we've got a new ship and her
riggin' will slack some, and we don't know
how she'll work ; but stick to your posts, and
by the help of God, we'll weather the storm.'
*' Well the storm increased, and we kept a
reefin' ; for you see I used to be 'bout as much
of a sailor as any on 'em, and in a storm there
warn't much to be cooked till 'twas over.
And I quit the caboose, and was in the riggin'
and all round the sap works till it abated.
While we was a takin' a double reef on the
A cahin hoy falls from aloft, and is killed. 203
main sail of the mizzen mast, there was a boy
by the name of Henry Thomson, the captain's
boy, who went up aloft with an old sailor, to
larn to take a reef-plat, and by misfortune,
one of the foot-ropes gin way, and the little fel-
ler/d^// and struck on the quarter-deck raliin',
and left part of his brains there, and his body
went overboard ; and w^e was agoin' so fast,
we couldn't 'bout and get him, and we had to
leave the poor feller to find companions in the
deep. Oh ! he icas a noUe hoy and I felt so
arter it, that I always thought of this varse of
an old sailor song.
* Days, months, years, and ages, shall circle away,
And still the vast waters above thee shall roll,
Earth loses thy pattern, for ever and aye.
Oh ! sailor boy ! sailor boy! peace to thy soul.'
*' Well we sailed on, and the storm increas-
ed till midnight; and oh ! how the ocean did
look ! It seemed as though it was all a blaze
of fire, and the vship couldn't keep still one se-
cond. She pitched and tumbled about like a
drunken man, and yit every thing held as strong
as iron ; and so 'bout one o'clock at night,
the storm passed ofl:' 'bout as quick as it had
come, and as soon as any light appeared in
204 -^i funeral at sea — « lady prays.
the heavens, the captain says, ' cheer up boys!
the storm is agoin' over and all hands to bimlcy
only the watch.'
" In the mornin' it was as clear and pleasant
as clear could be, only the sea was dreadful
rough ; for you know it takes the sea a good
while to git calm arter a storm ; but we gits
breakfast and she grows kind'a calmish, and
then the captain comes on deck and tells one
of the hands to go and git a canvass sack and
sow it up, and put a stick in it, and a cannon
ball at each eend ; and then he orders a plank
lashed to the side of the ship, with one eend
slantin' down to the water, and calls ' all hands
'tention,' and then asks, ' is there any body-
aboard that feels as though he could pray?*
And it was as still as death, and all looked at
one another, and nobody answered ; for you
see in all that company of 'bout fifty, nobody
could pray to his God. And all was av.ful, for
I tell ye what 'tisDomine, it's a pretty creepy
feelin' gits hold on a body, if they knows that
nobody round 'em can pray !.=^
" But in the suspense there steps out an el-
derly English lady, and she said ' Let us pray !
Oh ! thou who stillest the waves, ifec' And so
she went on and if she didn't make the best
A funeral at sea — a lady prnys. 20i>
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<l; ye lielieve in God, hclieve also in
nu.',' iVc. Then I made a prayer and set up
my family altar, and I have prayed in my family
every day, and mean to keep it up, for 1 be-
. lieve all christians ouijht to pray mornin' and
evenin' in their families.
•' Well, I went to bed and talked to my wife
hoiit ri'iiirinn, till I fairly talked her asleep,
and then I lay awake and ihoiii^hl, and prayed,
and wept for joy, and it will be a good wiiile
afore I forgit that night.
" For who can express
The sweet comfort and peace
Of a sou! ia its arUcst Love."
EM).
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