Mr. Hopkins remained but a short time in the office of overseer. Why his career was so short, I do not know, but suppose he lacked the necessary severity to suit Colonel Lloyd. Mr. Hopkins was succeeded by Mr. Austin Gore, a man possessing, in an eminent degree, all those traits of character indispensable to what is called a first-rate overseer. Mr. Gore had served Colonel Lloyd, in the capacity of overseer, upon one of the out-farms, and had shown himself worthy of the high station of overseer upon the home or Great House Farm.
Mr. Hopkins served as overseer for only a short time. I do not know why he served so briefly. I suppose he was not harsh enough to satisfy Colonel Lloyd. Mr. Austin Gore replaced Mr. Hopkins. He possessed, to an exceptional degree, all the character traits considered essential to a first-rate overseer. Mr. Gore had served Colonel Lloyd as overseer on one of the outlying farms. He had shown himself worthy of the high position of overseer on the home farm, or Great House Farm.
Mr. Gore was proud, ambitious, and persevering. He was artful, cruel, and obdurate. He was just the man for such a place, and it was just the place for such a man. It afforded scope for the full exercise of all his powers, and he seemed to be perfectly at home in it. He was one of those who could torture the slightest look, word, or gesture, on the part of the slave, into impudence, and would treat it accordingly. There must be no answering back to him; no explanation was allowed a slave, showing himself to have been wrongfully accused. Mr. Gore acted fully up to the maxim laid down by slaveholders,—“It is better that a dozen slaves should suffer under the lash, than that the overseer should be convicted, in the presence of the slaves, of having been at fault.” No matter how innocent a slave might be—it availed him nothing, when accused by Mr. Gore of any misdemeanor. To be accused was to be convicted, and to be convicted was to be punished; the one always following the other with immutable certainty. To escape punishment was to escape accusation; and few slaves had the fortune to do either, under the overseership of Mr. Gore. He was just proud enough to demand the most debasing homage of the slave, and quite servile enough to crouch, himself, at the feet of the master. He was ambitious enough to be contented with nothing short of the highest rank of overseers, and persevering enough to reach the height of his ambition. He was cruel enough to inflict the severest punishment, artful enough to descend to the lowest trickery, and obdurate enough to be insensible to the voice of a reproving conscience. He was, of all the overseers, the most dreaded by the slaves. His presence was painful; his eye flashed confusion; and seldom was his sharp, shrill voice heard, without producing horror and trembling in their ranks.
Mr. Gore was proud, ambitious, and persistent. He was cunning, cruel, and hard-hearted. He was exactly the man for such a position, and it was exactly the position for such a man. It gave him room to use all his abilities, and he seemed perfectly at home in it. He could twist an enslaved person’s slightest look, word, or gesture into an act of disrespect and punish it accordingly. No one could answer him back. No enslaved person was allowed to explain that they had been wrongly accused. Mr. Gore fully followed the rule laid down by slaveholders. “It is better for a dozen slaves to be whipped than for the overseer to be shown wrong before them.” However innocent an enslaved person might be, it meant nothing once Mr. Gore accused them of any offense. To be accused was to be found guilty, and to be found guilty was to be punished. One always followed the other with unchanging certainty. The only way to escape punishment was to escape accusation. Few enslaved people had the good fortune to escape either under Mr. Gore’s supervision. He was proud enough to demand the most degrading displays of submission from enslaved people. Yet he was servile enough to bow down at the master’s feet himself. His ambition would let him settle for nothing less than the highest rank among overseers. He was persistent enough to achieve that ambition. He was cruel enough to inflict the harshest punishment and cunning enough to stoop to the lowest tricks. He was hard-hearted enough to ignore the accusing voice of conscience. Of all the overseers, he was the one the enslaved people dreaded most. His presence caused distress. His piercing gaze threw them into confusion. They rarely heard his sharp, shrill voice without feeling horror and trembling.
Mr. Gore was a grave man, and, though a young man, he indulged in no jokes, said no funny words, seldom smiled. His words were in perfect keeping with his looks, and his looks were in perfect keeping with his words. Overseers will sometimes indulge in a witty word, even with the slaves; not so with Mr. Gore. He spoke but to command, and commanded but to be obeyed; he dealt sparingly with his words, and bountifully with his whip, never using the former where the latter would answer as well. When he whipped, he seemed to do so from a sense of duty, and feared no consequences. He did nothing reluctantly, no matter how disagreeable; always at his post, never inconsistent. He never promised but to fulfil. He was, in a word, a man of the most inflexible firmness and stone-like coolness.
Mr. Gore was a serious man. Though young, he never joked, said anything funny, or smiled often. His words matched his expression perfectly, and his expression matched his words. Overseers sometimes make witty remarks, even with the slaves. Mr. Gore never did. He spoke only to command, and gave commands only to be obeyed. He used words sparingly and his whip freely, never using words when the whip would work just as well. When he whipped, he seemed to act from a sense of duty and feared no consequences. He did nothing reluctantly, however unpleasant it was. He was always at his post and never inconsistent. He never made a promise without keeping it. In short, he was a man of unbending firmness and stone-cold composure.
His savage barbarity was equalled only by the consummate coolness with which he committed the grossest and most savage deeds upon the slaves under his charge. Mr. Gore once undertook to whip one of Colonel Lloyd’s slaves, by the name of Demby. He had given Demby but few stripes, when, to get rid of the scourging, he ran and plunged himself into a creek, and stood there at the depth of his shoulders, refusing to come out. Mr. Gore told him that he would give him three calls, and that, if he did not come out at the third call, he would shoot him. The first call was given. Demby made no response, but stood his ground. The second and third calls were given with the same result. Mr. Gore then, without consultation or deliberation with any one, not even giving Demby an additional call, raised his musket to his face, taking deadly aim at his standing victim, and in an instant poor Demby was no more. His mangled body sank out of sight, and blood and brains marked the water where he had stood.
His savage cruelty was matched only by his utter calm as he committed the worst atrocities against those he enslaved. Mr. Gore once set out to whip one of Colonel Lloyd’s enslaved men, named Demby. After only a few lashes, Demby ran into a creek to escape the whipping. He stood shoulder-deep in the water and refused to come out. Mr. Gore told him he would call three times. If Demby did not come out on the third call, he would shoot him. He called the first time. Demby did not answer and stood his ground. The second and third calls brought the same result. Mr. Gore then acted without consulting anyone or pausing to consider, and without giving Demby another call. He raised his musket to his face and took deadly aim at his motionless victim. In an instant, poor Demby was dead. His mangled body sank out of sight. Blood and brains marked the water where he had stood.
A thrill of horror flashed through every soul upon the plantation, excepting Mr. Gore. He alone seemed cool and collected. He was asked by Colonel Lloyd and my old master, why he resorted to this extraordinary expedient. His reply was, (as well as I can remember,) that Demby had become unmanageable. He was setting a dangerous example to the other slaves,—one which, if suffered to pass without some such demonstration on his part, would finally lead to the total subversion of all rule and order upon the plantation. He argued that if one slave refused to be corrected, and escaped with his life, the other slaves would soon copy the example; the result of which would be, the freedom of the slaves, and the enslavement of the whites. Mr. Gore’s defence was satisfactory. He was continued in his station as overseer upon the home plantation. His fame as an overseer went abroad. His horrid crime was not even submitted to judicial investigation. It was committed in the presence of slaves, and they of course could neither institute a suit, nor testify against him; and thus the guilty perpetrator of one of the bloodiest and most foul murders goes unwhipped of justice, and uncensured by the community in which he lives. Mr. Gore lived in St. Michael’s, Talbot county, Maryland, when I left there; and if he is still alive, he very probably lives there now; and if so, he is now, as he was then, as highly esteemed and as much respected as though his guilty soul had not been stained with his brother’s blood.
A wave of horror swept through everyone on the plantation except Mr. Gore. He alone seemed calm and composed. Colonel Lloyd and my former master asked him why he had taken such an extreme measure. His reply, as well as I can remember, was that Demby had become impossible to control. He was setting a dangerous example for the other slaves. Unless Gore responded with such a show of force, this example would eventually destroy all authority and order on the plantation. He argued that if one slave refused punishment and escaped with his life, the others would soon follow his example. The result would be freedom for the slaves and enslavement for the whites. Mr. Gore’s defense satisfied them. He kept his position as overseer on the home plantation. His reputation as an overseer spread widely. His horrible crime was not even investigated by a court. It was committed in front of slaves, who, of course, could neither bring a lawsuit nor testify against him. And so the man guilty of one of the bloodiest and most brutal murders escapes justice. The community where he lives does not even condemn him. Mr. Gore lived in St. Michael’s, Talbot County, Maryland, when I left there. If he is still alive, he very probably lives there now. If so, he is as highly regarded and respected now as he was then. It is as though his guilty soul had never been stained with his brother’s blood.
I speak advisedly when I say this,—that killing a slave, or any colored person, in Talbot county, Maryland, is not treated as a crime, either by the courts or the community. Mr. Thomas Lanman, of St. Michael’s, killed two slaves, one of whom he killed with a hatchet, by knocking his brains out. He used to boast of the commission of the awful and bloody deed. I have heard him do so laughingly, saying, among other things, that he was the only benefactor of his country in the company, and that when others would do as much as he had done, we should be relieved of “the d——d niggers.”
I say this with full knowledge of the facts. Killing a slave, or any Black person, in Talbot County, Maryland, is not treated as a crime. Neither the courts nor the community treat it that way. Mr. Thomas Lanman, of St. Michael’s, killed two slaves. He killed one with a hatchet, smashing his brains out. He used to boast about this horrible, bloody act. I have heard him laugh as he boasted. Among other things, he said he was the only person present who had done his country any good. He said that when others did as much as he had, we would be rid of “the d——d niggers.”
The wife of Mr. Giles Hicks, living but a short distance from where I used to live, murdered my wife’s cousin, a young girl between fifteen and sixteen years of age, mangling her person in the most horrible manner, breaking her nose and breastbone with a stick, so that the poor girl expired in a few hours afterward. She was immediately buried, but had not been in her untimely grave but a few hours before she was taken up and examined by the coroner, who decided that she had come to her death by severe beating. The offence for which this girl was thus murdered was this:—She had been set that night to mind Mrs. Hicks’s baby, and during the night she fell asleep, and the baby cried. She, having lost her rest for several nights previous, did not hear the crying. They were both in the room with Mrs. Hicks. Mrs. Hicks, finding the girl slow to move, jumped from her bed, seized an oak stick of wood by the fireplace, and with it broke the girl’s nose and breastbone, and thus ended her life. I will not say that this most horrid murder produced no sensation in the community. It did produce sensation, but not enough to bring the murderess to punishment. There was a warrant issued for her arrest, but it was never served. Thus she escaped not only punishment, but even the pain of being arraigned before a court for her horrid crime.
Mr. Giles Hicks’s wife lived only a short distance from where I used to live. She murdered my wife’s cousin, a young girl between fifteen and sixteen years old. She horribly injured the girl’s body, breaking her nose and breastbone with a stick. The poor girl died a few hours later. She was buried immediately. Only a few hours after her untimely burial, her body was dug up and examined by the coroner. He determined that she had died from a severe beating. The offense for which this girl was murdered was this: She had been assigned to watch Mrs. Hicks’s baby that night. During the night, she fell asleep, and the baby cried. Having gone without sleep for several nights before, she did not hear the crying. Both she and the baby were in the room with Mrs. Hicks. When the girl was slow to move, Mrs. Hicks jumped out of bed and grabbed an oak stick by the fireplace. With it, she broke the girl’s nose and breastbone, ending her life. I will not say that this most horrible murder caused no stir in the community. It did cause a stir, but not enough to bring the murderer to justice. A warrant was issued for her arrest, but it was never carried out. So she escaped punishment and even the distress of facing charges in court for her horrible crime.
Whilst I am detailing bloody deeds which took place during my stay on Colonel Lloyd’s plantation, I will briefly narrate another, which occurred about the same time as the murder of Demby by Mr. Gore.
As I describe the bloody deeds committed during my stay on Colonel Lloyd’s plantation, I will briefly recount another. It happened around the same time that Mr. Gore murdered Demby.
Colonel Lloyd’s slaves were in the habit of spending a part of their nights and Sundays in fishing for oysters, and in this way made up the deficiency of their scanty allowance. An old man belonging to Colonel Lloyd, while thus engaged, happened to get beyond the limits of Colonel Lloyd’s, and on the premises of Mr. Beal Bondly. At this trespass, Mr. Bondly took offence, and with his musket came down to the shore, and blew its deadly contents into the poor old man.
Colonel Lloyd’s slaves often spent part of their nights and Sundays gathering oysters. This helped make up for their meager food allowance. One old man enslaved by Colonel Lloyd was gathering oysters when he happened to cross the boundary of Lloyd’s property. He had entered Mr. Beal Bondly’s property. Mr. Bondly took offense at this trespass. He came down to the shore with his musket and fired its deadly load into the poor old man.
Mr. Bondly came over to see Colonel Lloyd the next day, whether to pay him for his property, or to justify himself in what he had done, I know not. At any rate, this whole fiendish transaction was soon hushed up. There was very little said about it at all, and nothing done. It was a common saying, even among little white boys, that it was worth a half-cent to kill a “nigger,” and a half-cent to bury one.
Mr. Bondly came to see Colonel Lloyd the next day. I do not know whether he came to pay for Lloyd’s property or to defend what he had done. In any case, this whole evil affair was soon covered up. Very little was said about it, and nothing was done. Even little white boys commonly said it was worth half a cent to kill a “nigger” and half a cent to bury one.