The Lover

Why does the slave ever love? Why allow the tendrils of the heart to twine around objects which may at any moment be wrenched away by the hand of violence? When separations come by the hand of death, the pious soul can bow in resignation, and say, “Not my will, but thine be done, O Lord!” But when the ruthless hand of man strikes the blow, regardless of the misery he causes, it is hard to be submissive. I did not reason thus when I was a young girl. Youth will be youth. I loved, and I indulged the hope that the dark clouds around me would turn out a bright lining. I forgot that in the land of my birth the shadows are too dense for light to penetrate. A land

Why does an enslaved person ever love? Why let the heart cling to people who may be violently torn away at any moment? When death separates loved ones, a faithful soul can accept the loss and say, “Not my will, but yours be done, O Lord!” But when a cruel person strikes the blow, without caring about the misery he causes, accepting the loss is hard. I did not think this way when I was a young girl. Young people will be young people. I loved, and I allowed myself to hope that the dark clouds around me would have a silver lining. I forgot that in the land of my birth, the shadows are too thick for light to get through. A land

There was in the neighborhood a young colored carpenter; a free-born man. We had been well acquainted in childhood, and frequently met together afterwards. We became mutually attached, and he proposed to marry me. I loved him with all the ardor of a young girl’s first love. But when I reflected that I was a slave, and that the laws gave no sanction to the marriage of such, my heart sank within me. My lover wanted to buy me; but I knew that Dr. Flint was too wilful and arbitrary a man to consent to that arrangement. From him, I was sure of experiencing all sorts of opposition, and I had nothing to hope from my mistress. She would have been delighted to have got rid of me, but not in that way. It would have relieved her mind of a burden if she could have seen me sold to some distant state, but if I was married near home I should be just as much in her husband’s power as I had previously been,—for the husband of a slave has no power to protect her. Moreover, my mistress, like many others, seemed to think that slaves had no right to any family ties of their own; that they were created merely to wait upon the family of the mistress. I once heard her abuse a young slave girl, who told her that a colored man wanted to make her his wife. “I will have you peeled and pickled, my lady,” said she, “if I ever hear you mention that subject again. Do you suppose that I will have you tending my children with the children of that nigger?” The girl to whom she said this had a mulatto child, of course not acknowledged by its father. The poor black man who loved her would have been proud to acknowledge his helpless offspring.

A young Black carpenter lived in the neighborhood. He had been born free. We had known each other well as children and often met afterward. We fell in love, and he asked me to marry him. I loved him with all the passion of a young girl’s first love. But my heart sank when I remembered that I was enslaved and that the law did not recognize marriages between enslaved people. My lover wanted to buy me, but I knew Dr. Flint was too stubborn and unpredictable to agree. I was sure he would oppose me in every way, and I could expect no help from my mistress. She would have been delighted to get rid of me, but not in that way. She would have felt relieved to see me sold to someone in a distant state. But if I married near home, I would still be just as much under her husband’s power as before. An enslaved woman’s husband has no power to protect her. My mistress, like many others, also seemed to think that enslaved people had no right to family ties of their own. She seemed to think they were created only to serve their mistress’s family. Once, I heard her berate a young enslaved girl who said a Black man wanted to marry her. “I’ll have you skinned and pickled, my lady,” she said, “if I ever hear you mention that subject again. Do you think I’ll let you care for my children while you have children with that nigger?” The girl she spoke to had a mixed-race child, whom the father had, of course, never acknowledged. The poor Black man who loved her would have been proud to acknowledge his helpless child.

Many and anxious were the thoughts I revolved in my mind. I was at a loss what to do. Above all things, I was desirous to spare my lover the insults that had cut so deeply into my own soul. I talked with my grandmother about it, and partly told her my fears. I did not dare to tell her the worst. She had long suspected all was not right, and if I confirmed her suspicions I knew a storm would rise that would prove the overthrow of all my hopes.

Many anxious thoughts ran through my mind. I did not know what to do. Above all, I wanted to spare my lover the insults that had wounded me so deeply. I talked with my grandmother and told her some of my fears. I did not dare tell her the worst. She had long suspected that something was wrong. I knew that if I confirmed her suspicions, a storm would arise and destroy all my hopes.

This love-dream had been my support through many trials; and I could not bear to run the risk of having it suddenly dissipated. There was a lady in the neighborhood, a particular friend of Dr. Flint’s, who often visited the house. I had a great respect for her, and she had always manifested a friendly interest in me. Grandmother thought she would have great influence with the doctor. I went to this lady, and told her my story. I told her I was aware that my lover’s being a free-born man would prove a great objection; but he wanted to buy me; and if Dr. Flint would consent to that arrangement, I felt sure he would be willing to pay any reasonable price. She knew that Mrs. Flint disliked me; therefore, I ventured to suggest that perhaps my mistress would approve of my being sold, as that would rid her of me. The lady listened with kindly sympathy, and promised to do her utmost to promote my wishes. She had an interview with the doctor, and I believe she pleaded my cause earnestly; but it was all to no purpose.

This dream of love had sustained me through many trials. I could not bear to risk having it suddenly shattered. A lady in the neighborhood was a close friend of Dr. Flint’s and often visited the house. I respected her greatly, and she had always shown a friendly interest in me. Grandmother thought she would have great influence over the doctor. I went to the lady and told her my story. I told her I knew my lover’s being born free would be a major objection. But he wanted to buy me. If Dr. Flint agreed to sell me, I felt sure my lover would pay any reasonable price. The lady knew that Mrs. Flint disliked me. So I ventured to suggest that perhaps my mistress would approve of selling me, since it would rid her of me. The lady listened with kind sympathy and promised to do her utmost to help me. She spoke with the doctor, and I believe she pleaded earnestly on my behalf. But it was all to no purpose.

How I dreaded my master now! Every minute I expected to be summoned to his presence; but the day passed, and I heard nothing from him. The next morning, a message was brought to me: “Master wants you in his study.” I found the door ajar, and I stood a moment gazing at the hateful man who claimed a right to rule me, body and soul. I entered, and tried to appear calm. I did not want him to know how my heart was bleeding. He looked fixedly at me, with an expression which seemed to say, “I have half a mind to kill you on the spot.” At last he broke the silence, and that was a relief to both of us.

How I dreaded my master now! Every minute, I expected him to call for me. But the day passed, and I heard nothing from him. The next morning, someone brought me a message: “Master wants you in his study.” I found the door partly open. For a moment, I stood gazing at the hateful man who claimed the right to rule my body and soul. I entered and tried to look calm. I did not want him to know how much my heart was bleeding. He stared at me with an expression that seemed to say, “I have half a mind to kill you on the spot.” At last he broke the silence, and we were both relieved.

“So you want to be married, do you?” said he, “and to a free nigger.”

“So you want to get married, do you?” he said. “And to a free nigger.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, I’ll soon convince you whether I am your master, or the nigger fellow you honor so highly. If you must have a husband, you may take up with one of my slaves.”

“Well, I’ll soon show you whether I’m your master or the nigger you respect so much is. If you must have a husband, you may take one of my slaves.”

What a situation I should be in, as the wife of one of his slaves, even if my heart had been interested!

What a situation I would be in as the wife of one of his slaves, even if I loved him!

I replied, “Don’t you suppose, sir, that a slave can have some preference about marrying? Do you suppose that all men are alike to her?”

I replied, “Don’t you think, sir, that an enslaved woman can have some preference about whom she marries? Do you think all men are alike to her?”

“Do you love this nigger?” said he, abruptly.

“Do you love this nigger?” he asked abruptly.

“Yes, sir.”

“Yes, sir.”

“How dare you tell me so!” he exclaimed, in great wrath. After a slight pause, he added, “I supposed you thought more of yourself; that you felt above the insults of such puppies.”

“How dare you tell me that!” he exclaimed angrily. After a short pause, he added, “I thought you had more self-respect. I thought you felt you were above the insults of such arrogant young men.”

I replied, “If he is a puppy I am a puppy, for we are both of the negro race. It is right and honorable for us to love each other. The man you call a puppy never insulted me, sir; and he would not love me if he did not believe me to be a virtuous woman.”

I replied, “If he is a puppy, then I am a puppy too, because we are both Black. It is right and honorable for us to love each other. The man you call a puppy has never insulted me, sir. And he would not love me if he did not believe I was a virtuous woman.”

He sprang upon me like a tiger, and gave me a stunning blow. It was the first time he had ever struck me; and fear did not enable me to control my anger. When I had recovered a little from the effects, I exclaimed, “You have struck me for answering you honestly. How I despise you!”

He sprang at me like a tiger and struck me a stunning blow. It was the first time he had ever hit me, and fear could not keep me from getting angry. When I had recovered a little from the blow, I cried, “You hit me for answering you honestly. How I despise you!”

There was silence for some minutes. Perhaps he was deciding what should be my punishment; or, perhaps, he wanted to give me time to reflect on what I had said, and to whom I had said it. Finally, he asked, “Do you know what you have said?”

There was silence for several minutes. Perhaps he was deciding how to punish me. Or perhaps he wanted to give me time to think about what I had said and to whom. Finally, he asked, “Do you know what you have said?”

“Yes, sir; but your treatment drove me to it.”

“Yes, sir, but the way you treated me drove me to it.”

“Do you know that I have a right to do as I like with you,—that I can kill you, if I please?”

“Do you know that I have the right to do whatever I want with you? I can kill you if I want to.”

“You have tried to kill me, and I wish you had; but you have no right to do as you like with me.”

“You tried to kill me, and I wish you had. But you have no right to do whatever you want with me.”

“Silence!” he exclaimed, in a thundering voice. “By heavens, girl, you forget yourself too far! Are you mad? If you are, I will soon bring you to your senses. Do you think any other master would bear what I have borne from you this morning? Many masters would have killed you on the spot. How would you like to be sent to jail for your insolence?”

“Be quiet!” he thundered. “Good heavens, girl, you have gone too far! Are you crazy? If you are, I’ll soon bring you to your senses. Do you think any other master would put up with what I’ve put up with from you this morning? Many masters would have killed you on the spot. How would you like to be sent to jail for your disrespect?”

“I know I have been disrespectful, sir,” I replied; “but you drove me to it; I couldn’t help it. As for the jail, there would be more peace for me there than there is here.”

“I know I’ve been disrespectful, sir,” I replied. “But you drove me to it. I couldn’t help it. As for jail, I would find more peace there than I do here.”

“You deserve to go there,” said he, “and to be under such treatment, that you would forget the meaning of the word peace. It would do you good. It would take some of your high notions out of you. But I am not ready to send you there yet, notwithstanding your ingratitude for all my kindness and forbearance. You have been the plague of my life. I have wanted to make you happy, and I have been repaid with the basest ingratitude; but though you have proved yourself incapable of appreciating my kindness, I will be lenient towards you, Linda. I will give you one more chance to redeem your character. If you behave yourself and do as I require, I will forgive you and treat you as I always have done; but if you disobey me, I will punish you as I would the meanest slave on my plantation. Never let me hear that fellow’s name mentioned again. If I ever know of your speaking to him, I will cowhide you both; and if I catch him lurking about my premises, I will shoot him as soon as I would a dog. Do you hear what I say? I’ll teach you a lesson about marriage and free niggers! Now go, and let this be the last time I have occasion to speak to you on this subject.”

“You deserve to go there,” he said, “and be treated so badly that you would forget the meaning of peace. It would do you good. It would rid you of some of your lofty ideas. But I am not ready to send you there yet, despite your ingratitude for all my kindness and patience. You have been the plague of my life. I have wanted to make you happy, and you have repaid me with the lowest ingratitude. But although you have shown that you cannot appreciate my kindness, I will be lenient with you, Linda. I will give you one more chance to redeem your character. If you behave and do as I demand, I will forgive you and treat you as I always have. But if you disobey me, I will punish you as I would the lowest slave on my plantation. Never let me hear that man’s name mentioned again. If I ever learn that you have spoken to him, I will whip you both with a cowhide. And if I catch him lurking on my property, I will shoot him as readily as I would a dog. Do you hear what I’m saying? I’ll teach you a lesson about marriage and free niggers! Now go, and let this be the last time I have to speak to you about this.”

Reader, did you ever hate? I hope not. I never did but once; and I trust I never shall again. Somebody has called it “the atmosphere of hell;” and I believe it is so.

Reader, have you ever hated anyone? I hope not. I have only hated once, and I hope I never will again. Someone has called hate “the atmosphere of hell,” and I believe that is true.

For a fortnight the doctor did not speak to me. He thought to mortify me; to make me feel that I had disgraced myself by receiving the honorable addresses of a respectable colored man, in preference to the base proposals of a white man. But though his lips disdained to address me, his eyes were very loquacious. No animal ever watched its prey more narrowly than he watched me. He knew that I could write, though he had failed to make me read his letters; and he was now troubled lest I should exchange letters with another man. After a while he became weary of silence; and I was sorry for it. One morning, as he passed through the hall, to leave the house, he contrived to thrust a note into my hand. I thought I had better read it, and spare myself the vexation of having him read it to me. It expressed regret for the blow he had given me, and reminded me that I myself was wholly to blame for it. He hoped I had become convinced of the injury I was doing myself by incurring his displeasure. He wrote that he had made up his mind to go to Louisiana; that he should take several slaves with him, and intended I should be one of the number. My mistress would remain where she was; therefore I should have nothing to fear from that quarter. If I merited kindness from him, he assured me that it would be lavishly bestowed. He begged me to think over the matter, and answer the following day.

For two weeks, the doctor did not speak to me. He thought he could humiliate me. He wanted me to feel that I had disgraced myself by welcoming the honorable courtship of a respectable Black man instead of the shameful proposals of a white man. But although his lips refused to speak to me, his eyes had plenty to say. No animal ever watched its prey more closely than he watched me. He knew I could write, although he had failed to make me read his letters. Now he worried that I might exchange letters with another man. After a while, he grew tired of silence, and I was sorry he did. One morning, as he passed through the hall on his way out, he managed to slip a note into my hand. I thought I had better read it and spare myself the annoyance of having him read it to me. He said he regretted hitting me, but reminded me that I alone was to blame for the blow. He hoped I had come to see how much I was hurting myself by displeasing him. He wrote that he had decided to go to Louisiana. He would take several enslaved people with him, and he intended me to be one of them. My mistress would stay where she was, so I would have nothing to fear from her. He assured me that if I deserved his kindness, he would give it generously. He begged me to think the matter over and answer him the next day.

The next morning I was called to carry a pair of scissors to his room. I laid them on the table, with the letter beside them. He thought it was my answer, and did not call me back. I went as usual to attend my young mistress to and from school. He met me in the street, and ordered me to stop at his office on my way back. When I entered, he showed me his letter, and asked me why I had not answered it. I replied, “I am your daughter’s property, and it is in your power to send me, or take me, wherever you please.” He said he was very glad to find me so willing to go, and that we should start early in the autumn. He had a large practice in the town, and I rather thought he had made up the story merely to frighten me. However that might be, I was determined that I would never go to Louisiana with him.

The next morning, I was called to take a pair of scissors to his room. I put them on the table with the letter beside them. He thought the letter was my answer, so he did not call me back. As usual, I went to accompany my young mistress to and from school. He met me in the street and ordered me to stop at his office on my way back. When I entered, he showed me his letter and asked why I had not answered it. I replied, “I am your daughter’s property, and you have the power to send me or take me wherever you please.” He said he was very glad to find me so willing to go. He said we would leave early in the fall. He had a large practice in town, and I thought he had probably made up the story just to frighten me. Whatever the truth was, I was determined never to go to Louisiana with him.

Summer passed away, and early in the autumn Dr. Flint’s eldest son was sent to Louisiana to examine the country, with a view to emigrating. That news did not disturb me. I knew very well that I should not be sent with him. That I had not been taken to the plantation before this time, was owing to the fact that his son was there. He was jealous of his son; and jealousy of the overseer had kept him from punishing me by sending me into the fields to work. Is it strange that I was not proud of these protectors? As for the overseer, he was a man for whom I had less respect than I had for a bloodhound.

Summer passed, and early in the fall, Dr. Flint sent his eldest son to Louisiana. His son was to look over the country with the possibility of moving there. The news did not disturb me. I knew very well that I would not be sent with him. I had not been taken to the plantation before then because his son was there. Dr. Flint was jealous of his son. His jealousy of the overseer had also kept him from punishing me by sending me to work in the fields. Is it strange that I was not proud of these protectors? As for the overseer, I had less respect for him than I had for a bloodhound.

Young Mr. Flint did not bring back a favorable report of Louisiana, and I heard no more of that scheme. Soon after this, my lover met me at the corner of the street, and I stopped to speak to him. Looking up, I saw my master watching us from his window. I hurried home, trembling with fear. I was sent for, immediately, to go to his room. He met me with a blow. “When is mistress to be married?” said he, in a sneering tone. A shower of oaths and imprecations followed. How thankful I was that my lover was a free man! that my tyrant had no power to flog him for speaking to me in the street!

Young Mr. Flint did not bring back a favorable report of Louisiana, and I heard no more about that plan. Soon afterward, my lover met me at the street corner, and I stopped to speak to him. I looked up and saw my master watching us from his window. I hurried home, trembling with fear. Immediately, I was sent for and told to go to his room. He met me with a blow. “When is mistress going to be married?” he asked with a sneer. He followed this with a torrent of curses and threats. How thankful I was that my lover was a free man! My tyrant had no power to whip him for speaking to me in the street!

Again and again I revolved in my mind how all this would end. There was no hope that the doctor would consent to sell me on any terms. He had an iron will, and was determined to keep me, and to conquer me. My lover was an intelligent and religious man. Even if he could have obtained permission to marry me while I was a slave, the marriage would give him no power to protect me from my master. It would have made him miserable to witness the insults I should have been subjected to. And then, if we had children, I knew they must “follow the condition of the mother.” What a terrible blight that would be on the heart of a free, intelligent father! For his sake, I felt that I ought not to link his fate with my own unhappy destiny. He was going to Savannah to see about a little property left him by an uncle; and hard as it was to bring my feelings to it, I earnestly entreated him not to come back. I advised him to go to the Free States, where his tongue would not be tied, and where his intelligence would be of more avail to him. He left me, still hoping the day would come when I could be bought. With me the lamp of hope had gone out. The dream of my girlhood was over. I felt lonely and desolate.

Again and again, I wondered how all of this would end. There was no hope that the doctor would agree to sell me under any circumstances. He had an iron will and was determined to keep me and conquer me. My lover was an intelligent and religious man. Even if he could have obtained permission to marry me while I was a slave, marriage would not give him the power to protect me from my master. Seeing the insults I would have to endure would have made him miserable. And if we had children, I knew they would have to “follow the condition of the mother.” What a terrible blow that would be to the heart of a free, intelligent father! For his sake, I felt I should not link his fate to my own unhappy destiny. He was going to Savannah to see about a small property his uncle had left him. Hard as it was to accept, I begged him not to come back. I advised him to go to the Free States, where he could speak freely and his intelligence would serve him better. He left me, still hoping that the day would come when I could be bought. For me, the lamp of hope had gone out. The dream of my girlhood was over. I felt lonely and desolate.

Still I was not stripped of all. I still had my good grandmother, and my affectionate brother. When he put his arms round my neck, and looked into my eyes, as if to read there the troubles I dared not tell, I felt that I still had something to love. But even that pleasant emotion was chilled by the reflection that he might be torn from me at any moment, by some sudden freak of my master. If he had known how we loved each other, I think he would have exulted in separating us. We often planned together how we could get to the north. But, as William remarked, such things are easier said than done. My movements were very closely watched, and we had no means of getting any money to defray our expenses. As for grandmother, she was strongly opposed to her children’s undertaking any such project. She had not forgotten poor Benjamin’s sufferings, and she was afraid that if another child tried to escape, he would have a similar or a worse fate. To me, nothing seemed more dreadful than my present life. I said to myself, “William must be free. He shall go to the north, and I will follow him.” Many a slave sister has formed the same plans.

Still, I had not lost everything. I still had my good grandmother and my loving brother. He would put his arms around my neck and look into my eyes. It was as if he were trying to read the troubles I dared not tell him about. Then I felt that I still had someone to love. But even that happy feeling was chilled by the thought that my master might suddenly decide to tear him from me. If my master had known how much we loved each other, I think he would have delighted in separating us. We often planned together how we could get to the north. But, as William said, such things are easier said than done. My movements were watched very closely, and we had no way to get money for our expenses. Grandmother was strongly opposed to her children attempting any such escape. She had not forgotten poor Benjamin’s suffering. She feared that if another child tried to escape, he would meet a similar or worse fate. To me, nothing seemed more dreadful than my life as it was. I said to myself, “William must be free. He will go to the north, and I will follow him.” Many a slave sister has made the same plans.