Read The Bondwoman's Narrative Online

Authors: Hannah Crafts

Tags: #FIC019000

The Bondwoman's Narrative (35 page)

BOOK: The Bondwoman's Narrative
11.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

In the distance was a cotton field with the snowy fleece bursting richly from the pod, and sweeping down to the river’s edge
was a large plantation of rice. Of course the labor of many slaves was required to keep such a large estate in thrifty order.
The huts of these people were ranged on the back-side of the place, and as far from the habitation of their master as possible.
They were built with far less reference to neatness and convenience than those in Virginia. They had not the little garden
patch, the tiny yard with its bright flowers, or the comfortable home aspect of white-
was
washed walls. Then they were more crowded. There was not that division of families I had been accustomed to see, but they
all lived promiscuously anyhow and every how; at least they did not die, which was a wonder. Is it a stretch of imagination
to say that by night they contained a swarm of misery, that crowds of foul existence crawled in out of gaps in walls and boards,
or coiled themselves to sleep on
nauseous
nauseous heaps of straw fetid with human perspiration and where the rain drips in,
and the midnight dew imparts some
and the damp airs of midnight fatch [fetch] and carry malignant fevers.

They said that many of these huts were old and ruinous with decay, that occasionally a crash, and a crowd of dust would be
perceived among them, and that each time it was occasioned by the fall of one. But lodgings are found among the rubbish, and
all goes on as before. Since if a head gets bruised or a limb broken, head and limbs are so plentiful that they seem of small
account. So true it is that if a great man sneezes the world rings with it, but if a poor man dies no one notices or cares.
Perhaps a fond wife and tender children shed a few natural tears, and then the one dries her eyes and begins to look around
for another lord, while the others in the busy whirl of life would forget his name were it not their own. This is all the
result of that false system which bestows on position, wealth, or power the consideration only due to a man. And this system
is not confined to any one place, or country, or condition. It extends through all grades and classes of society from the
highest to the lowest. It bans poor but honest people with the contemptuous appellation of “vulgar.” It subjects others under
certain circumstances to a lower link in the chain of being than that occupied by a horse.

Many of these huts
now very ancient They
were even older than the nation, and had been occupied by successive generations of slaves. The greatest curse of slavery
is it’s [sic] heriditary character. The father leaves to his son an inheritance of toil and misery, and his place on the fetid
straw in the miserable corner, with no hope or possibility of anything better. And the son in his turn transmits the same
to his offspring and thus forever.

If the huts were bad, the inhabitants it seemed were still worse. Degradation, neglect, and ill treatment had wrought on them
its legitimate effects. All day they toil beneath the burning sun, scarcely conscious that any link exists between themselves
and other portions of the human race. Their mental condition is briefly summed up in the phrase that they know nothing.
care for nothing, and hope for nothing
They know indeed that it is hard to toil unceasingly for a scanty pittance of food, and coarse garments; nature instructed
them thus far.

What do you think of it? Doctors of Divinity Isn’t it a strange state to be like them. To shuffle up and down the lanes unfamiliar
with the flowers, and in utter darkness as to the meaning of Nature’s various hieroglyphical symbols, so abundant on the trees,
the skies, in the leaves of grass, and everywhere. To see people ride in carriages, to hear such names as freedom, heaven,
hope and happiness and not to have the least idea how it must seem to ride, any more than what the experience of these blessed
names would be. It must be a strange state to be prized just according to the firmness of your joints, the strength of your
sinews, and your capability of endurence. To be made to feel that you have no business here, there, or anywhere except just
to work—work—work—And yet to know that you are here somehow, with once in a great while like a straggling ray in a dark place
a faint aspiration for something better,
or gli
with a glimpse, a mere glimpse of something beyond. It must be a strange state to feel that in the judgement of those above
you you are scarcely human, and to fear that their opinion is more than half right, that you really are assimilated to the
brutes, that the horses, dogs and cattle have quite as many priveledges, and are probably your equals or it may be your superiors
in knowledge, that even your shape is questionable as belonging to that order of superior beings whose delicacy you offend.

It must be strange to live in a world of civilisation and, elegance, and refinement, and yet know nothing about either, yet
that is the way with multitudes and with none more than the slaves. The Constitution that asserts the right of freedom and
equality to all mankind is a sealed book to them, and so is the Bible, that tells how Christ died for all; the bond as well
as the free.

Mr Wheeler had neglected his plantation as well as his slaves for several reasons. In the first place he didn’t think it worth
while to take much pains with such brutalised specimens of humanity. They could work just as well, and it might be even better
to leave them alone in their degradation.
than to
He expected nothing of them but toil. He wanted nothing else. Their ideas were not a whit above their condition which might
be, were a reformation in their manners to be attempted. So the steward only received an injunction to keep the mater’s residence
in a manner comporting with the family dignity, to see that the vines were properly trained, the flowers tended and especially
to look after the figs and pomegranates. Alas that fruits and flowers should claim more consideration than human souls.

In the second place an office was his hobby. He preferred to live at the public expense. Life in the Federal Capital
and an office
was the most he cared for, and while intriguing and speculating and striving to get a moiety of the public business into
his hands his private affairs were suffered to run to waste. Of course the family residence was stocked with slaves of a higher
and nobler order than those belonging to the fields. They were better dressed, better provided for and better looking. It
was necessary that those surrounding the person of the Mistress should have nothing offensive or disgusting about them. It
was necessary, not for him but her, that the coachman should be cleanly and well kept, that the cook should be neat, with
well washed hands and a snowy apron, and that all her attendants should well understand their part and preserve appearances.
Yet I thought they exhibited little pleasure on the return of their master and mistress. Their [there] was no hardy demonstrations
of delight, but merely a cold formal welcome scarcely removed from positive indifference or something worse.

There was one however, a girl named Maria, who having been a favorite of Mrs Wheeler in other days greatly resented my advancement
to the situation of waiting maid, and I saw at once that I had to deal with a wary, powerful, and unscrupulous enemy. She
was a dark mulatto, very quick motioned with black snaky eyes, and hair of the same color. Yet she was an adept in the art
of dissembling and her countenance would be the smoothest and her words the fairest when she contemplated the greatest injury.
For a long time I strove by every means in my power, by kindness, attention, and good-will to soften her animosity, but she
turned from me with hatred and bitterness, and even mocked my efforts at reconciliation, and a good understanding.

I soon ascertained that gradually yet surely she was supplanting me in Mrs Wheeler’s favor. When the lady desired some personal
service she no longer summoned me, but Maria. Her conversations were all with Maria; her presents were all to Maria. She scarcely
noticed me at all, while I vainly wondered in what I had offended.

One day Mrs Wheeler called me to her apartment. I perceived at the first glimpse of her countenance that she was very angry.

“Hannah” she said “there can be no use of any preamble between me and you. You have disobeyed my positive commands, exposed
me to the derision of my slaves, and made my name the subject of neighborhood scandal. Fool that I was to have ever retained
such a viper in my family.”

There was nothing languid in her manner now. Her voice was loud and agitated, and her frame trembled with excessive passion.

“My dear Mistress” I began. “You greatly surprise me. How have I done all this?”

“Don’t ask me how? You know well enough. Oh; you needn’t put on that aggrieved and innocent look. I’ve seen hypocrites before.”

“Very likely, and will again I presume. But the child unborn knows quite as well to what you allude as I do.”

“You don’t pretend to say that you haven’t told to all the
servants in this house the misfortune that happened to me at Washington.”

Her allusion to that ludicrous circumstance actually forced me to smile. Had the penalty been some dreadful punishment I could
not have helped it. This roused her to a perfect fury. She broke out in language unsuitable for any lady, and snatching a
chair hurled it with all her force at my head. I stooped to escape the blow when it passed over me, and shivered to pieces
against the door. I rose and attempted to retire.

“Stay” she cried. “I have not done with you yet, base ungrateful wretch that you are. What punishment do you think ought to
be awarded you?”

“I have deserved no punishment” I replied calmly.

“No punishment, eh, for basely betraying the confidence of your Mistress.”

“I have not betrayed your confidence, having never mentioned to a solitary soul the incident of which you speak.”

“Now don’t tell lies, Hannah. I thought you to be a very good Christian” she said tantalizingly.

“However that may be I have told you no lies.”

“Now Hannah there is no
use
sense in your denial of this fact. You have told it, and I know it, else how did Maria, and the other servants hear of it?”

“That I cannot tell, though probably they might.”

“They have told, they accuse you.”

[“]Well, I am innocent, in the face of heaven and earth I am innocent. I am the victim of a conspiracy. Maria does not certainly
say that I told her when we have scarcely spoken together for months. I saw from the first that she hated me” and I burst
into tears.

“You can weep now” said Mrs Wheeler “now that your baseness has been discovered, but it will do you no good, my resolution
is unalterably fixed. You shall depart from the house, and go into the
fields to work. Those brutalized creatures in the cabins
are fit companions for one so vile. You can herd with them. Bill, who comes here sometimes has seen and admires you. In fact
he asked you of Mr Wheeler for his wife, and his wife you shall be.”

“Never” I exclaimed rashly and hastily, and without thought of the consequences. “Never.”

“Do you dare to disobey” she almost shrieked. “With all your pretty airs and your white face, you are nothing but a slave
after all, and no better than the blackest wench. Your pride shall be broke, your haughty spirit brought down, and now get
you gone, and prepare to change your lodgings and employment.”

“What preparation shall I make?”

“Why, bundle up some of your coarsest clothes. The best and finest I have given to Maria. Then go to the overseer and he will
place you.”

“Mistress” I began and fell on my knees.

She spurned me contemptuously with her foot. “Begone, I want none of your blarney.”

I arose silently, and left the room.

Retreating to the loneliest garret in the house I sate [sat] down to weep, and pray, and meditate. I had never felt so lonely
and utterly desolate. Accused of a crime of which I was innocent, my reputation with my Mistress blackened, and most horrible
of all doomed to association with the vile, foul, filthy inhabitants of the huts, and condemned to receive one of them for
my husband my soul actually revolted with horror unspeakable. I had ever regarded marriage as a holy ordinance, and felt that
its responsibilities could only be suitably discharged when
they were
voluntarily assumed.

CHAPTER 17
Escape

In Thee is my trust.

P
SALMS

I hear a voice you cannot hear
Which says I must not stay
I see a hand you cannot see
Which beckons me away

T
ICKELL

Had Mrs Wheeler condemned me to the severest corporeal punishment, or exposed me to be sold in the public slave market in
Wilmington I should probably have resigned myself with apparent composure to her cruel behests. But when she sought to force
me into a compulsory union with a man whom I could only hate and despise it seemed that rebellion would be a virtue, that
duty to myself and my God actually required it, and that whatever accidents or misfortunes might attend my flight nothing
could be worse than what threatened my stay.

Marriage like many other blessings I considered to be especially designed for the free, and something that all the victims
of slavery should avoid as tending essentially to perpetuate that system. Hence to all overtures of that kind from whatever
quarter they might come I had invariably turned a deaf ear. I had spurned domestic
ties not because my heart was hard, but
because it was my unalterable resolution never to entail slavery on any human being. And now when I had voluntarily renounced
the society of those I might have learned to love should I be compelled to accept one, whose person, and speech, and manner
could not fail to be ever regarded by me with loathing and disgust. Then to be driven in to the fields beneath the eye and
lash of the brutal overseer, and those miserable huts, with their promiscuous crowds of dirty, obscene and degraded objects,
for my home I could not, I would not bear it.

BOOK: The Bondwoman's Narrative
11.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Uncertain by Avery Kirk
THE TOKEN by Tamara Blodgett
Caught Up (Indigo Vibe) by Deatri King Bey
Eagle's Heart by Alyssa Cole
Two Can Keep a Secret by Karen M. McManus
The Surprise Princess by Patricia McLinn
Historia de una escalera by Antonio Buero Vallejo
Rugby Spirit by Gerard Siggins