Mary Prince's Story: A West Indian Slave

I was born at Brackish-Pond, in Bermuda, on a farm belonging to Mr. Charles Myners. My mother was a household slave; and my father, whose name was Prince, was a sawyer belonging to Mr. Trimmingham, a ship-builder at Crow-Lane. When I was an infant, old Mr. Myners died, and there was a division of the slaves and other property among the family. I was bought along with my mother by old Captain Darrel, and given to his grandchild, little Miss Betsey Williams. Captain Williams, Mr. Darrel's son-in-law, was master of a vessel which traded to several places in America and the West Indies, and he was seldom at home long together.

I was born at Brackish-Pond, in Bermuda, on a farm owned by Mr. Charles Myners. My mother was an enslaved household servant. My father, whose name was Prince, was an enslaved sawyer owned by Mr. Trimmingham, a shipbuilder at Crow-Lane. When I was an infant, old Mr. Myners died. His family divided the enslaved people and his other property among themselves. Old Captain Darrel bought my mother and me and gave me to his grandchild, little Miss Betsey Williams. Captain Williams, Mr. Darrel's son-in-law, was the captain of a ship that traded in several places in America and the West Indies. He was rarely home for long.

Mrs. Williams was a kind-hearted good woman, and she treated all her slaves well. She had only one daughter, Miss Betsey, for whom I was purchased, and who was about my own age. I was made quite a pet of by Miss Betsey, and loved her very much. She used to lead me about by the hand, and call me her little nigger. This was the happiest period of my life; for I was too young to understand rightly my condition as a slave, and too thoughtless and full of spirits to look forward to the days of toil and sorrow.

Mrs. Williams was a kind and good woman, and she treated all her slaves well. She had only one daughter, Miss Betsey, for whom I was bought. Miss Betsey was about my age. She treated me like a pet, and I loved her very much. She used to lead me around by the hand and call me her little nigger. This was the happiest time of my life. I was too young to truly understand my condition as a slave. I was also too carefree and full of energy to think about the days of hard work and sorrow ahead.

My mother was a household slave in the same family. I was under her own care, and my little brothers and sisters were my play-fellows and companions. My mother had several fine children after she came to Mrs. Williams,—three girls and two boys. The tasks given out to us children were light, and we used to play together with Miss Betsey, with as much freedom almost as if she had been our sister.

My mother was a household slave in the same family. She cared for me, and my little brothers and sisters were my playmates and companions. After she came to Mrs. Williams, my mother had several fine children: three girls and two boys. The work given to us children was light. We used to play with Miss Betsey almost as freely as if she were our sister.

My master, however, was a very harsh, selfish man; and we always dreaded his return from sea. His wife was herself much afraid of him; and, during his stay at home, seldom dared to shew her usual kindness to the slaves. He often left her, in the most distressed circumstances, to reside in other female society, at some place in the West Indies of which I have forgot the name. My poor mistress bore his ill-treatment with great patience, and all her slaves loved and pitied her. I was truly attached to her, and, next to my own mother, loved her better than any creature in the world. My obedience to her commands was cheerfully given: it sprung solely from the affection I felt for her, and not from fear of the power which the white people's law had given her over me.

My master, however, was a very harsh, selfish man, and we always dreaded his return from sea. His wife was also very afraid of him. While he was at home, she seldom dared to show her usual kindness to the enslaved people. He often left her in great distress to live with other women. He stayed somewhere in the West Indies, but I have forgotten the name of the place. My poor mistress bore his ill-treatment with great patience, and all her enslaved people loved and pitied her. I was truly attached to her and loved her more than anyone in the world except my own mother. I obeyed her commands willingly. I did so solely because of my affection for her, not because I feared the power that white people’s law gave her over me.

I had scarcely reached my twelfth year when my mistress became too poor to keep so many of us at home; and she hired me out to Mrs. Pruden, a lady who lived about five miles off, in the adjoining parish, in a large house near the sea. I cried bitterly at parting with my dear mistress and Miss Betsey, and when I kissed my mother and brothers and sisters, I thought my young heart would break, it pained me so. But there was no help; I was forced to go. Good Mrs. Williams comforted me by saying that I should still be near the home I was about to quit, and might come over and see her and my kindred whenever I could obtain leave of absence from Mrs. Pruden. A few hours after this I was taken to a strange house, and found myself among strange people. This separation seemed a sore trial to me then; but oh! 'twas light, light to the trials I have since endured!—'twas nothing—nothing to be mentioned with them; but I was a child then, and it was according to my strength.

I had barely reached my twelfth year when my mistress became too poor to keep so many of us at home. She hired me out to Mrs. Pruden, a lady who lived about five miles away, in the neighboring parish. Mrs. Pruden lived in a large house near the sea. I cried bitterly as I parted from my dear mistress and Miss Betsey. When I kissed my mother, brothers, and sisters, I thought my young heart would break. It hurt me so much. But there was no help for it. I was forced to go. Good Mrs. Williams comforted me. She said I would still be near the home I was leaving. I could come and see her and my family whenever Mrs. Pruden gave me permission to leave. A few hours later, I was taken to an unfamiliar house and found myself among strangers. The separation seemed a painful trial to me then. But oh, it was light, light compared with the trials I have endured since! It was nothing, nothing worth mentioning beside them. But I was a child then, and the trial was as much as I could bear.

I knew that Mrs. Williams could no longer maintain me; that she was fain to part with me for my food and clothing; and I tried to submit myself to the change. My new mistress was a passionate woman; but yet she did not treat me very unkindly. I do not remember her striking me but once, and that was for going to see Mrs. Williams when I heard she was sick, and staying longer than she had given me leave to do. All my employment at this time was nursing a sweet baby, little Master Daniel; and I grew so fond of my nursling that it was my greatest delight to walk out with him by the sea-shore, accompanied by his brother and sister, Miss Fanny and Master James.—Dear Miss Fanny! She was a sweet, kind young lady, and so fond of me that she wished me to learn all that she knew herself; and her method of teaching me was as follows:—Directly she had said her lessons to her grandmamma, she used to come running to me, and make me repeat them one by one after her; and in a few months I was able not only to say my letters but to spell many small words. But this happy state was not to last long. Those days were too pleasant to last. My heart always softens when I think of them.

I knew that Mrs. Williams could no longer support me. She had to part with me so that I could have food and clothing, and I tried to accept the change. My new mistress was a hot-tempered woman, but she did not treat me very unkindly. I remember her striking me only once. That was because I went to see Mrs. Williams when I heard she was sick, and stayed longer than my mistress had allowed. My only work at this time was caring for a sweet baby, little Master Daniel. I grew so fond of him that my greatest delight was walking with him by the seashore. His brother and sister, Miss Fanny and Master James, came with us. Dear Miss Fanny! She was a sweet, kind young lady. She was so fond of me that she wanted me to learn everything she knew herself. This was how she taught me: as soon as she had recited her lessons to her grandmother, she would run to me. Then she would make me repeat the lessons after her, one by one. Within a few months, I could not only recite my letters but spell many short words. But this happy time was not to last long. Those days were too pleasant to last. My heart always softens when I think of them.

At this time Mrs. Williams died. I was told suddenly of her death, and my grief was so great that, forgetting I had the baby in my arms, I ran away directly to my poor mistress's house; but reached it only in time to see the corpse carried out. Oh, that was a day of sorrow,—a heavy day! All the slaves cried. My mother cried and lamented her sore; and I (foolish creature!) vainly entreated them to bring my dear mistress back to life. I knew nothing rightly about death then, and it seemed a hard thing to bear. When I thought about my mistress I felt as if the world was all gone wrong; and for many days and weeks I could think of nothing else. I returned to Mrs. Pruden's; but my sorrow was too great to be comforted, for my own dear mistress was always in my mind. Whether in the house or abroad, my thoughts were always talking to me about her.

At this time Mrs. Williams died. I was told of her death suddenly, and my grief was so great that I forgot I had the baby in my arms. I ran straight to my poor mistress's house, but arrived only in time to see her body carried out. Oh, what a day of sorrow, a heavy day! All the slaves cried. My mother cried and grieved deeply for her. I was foolish enough to beg them to bring my dear mistress back to life, but in vain. I did not really understand death then, and it seemed a hard thing to bear. When I thought about my mistress, I felt as if the whole world had gone wrong. For many days and weeks, I could think of nothing else. I returned to Mrs. Pruden's, but my sorrow was too great for me to be comforted. My own dear mistress was always in my mind. Whether I was in the house or outside, my thoughts were always talking to me about her.

I staid at Mrs. Pruden's about three months after this; I was then sent back to Mr. Williams to be sold. Oh, that was a sad sad time! I recollect the day well. Mrs. Pruden came to me and said, "Mary, you will have to go home directly; your master is going to be married, and he means to sell you and two of your sisters to raise money for the wedding." Hearing this I burst out a crying,—though I was then far from being sensible of the full weight of my misfortune, or of the misery that waited for me. Besides, I did not like to leave Mrs. Pruden, and the dear baby, who had grown very fond of me. For some time I could scarcely believe that Mrs. Pruden was in earnest, till I received orders for my immediate return.—Dear Miss Fanny! how she cried at parting with me, whilst I kissed and hugged the baby, thinking I should never see him again. I left Mrs. Pruden's, and walked home with a heart full of sorrow. The idea of being sold away from my mother and Miss Betsey was so frightful, that I dared not trust myself to think about it. We had been bought of Mr. Myners, as I have mentioned, by Miss Betsey's grandfather, and given to her, so that we were by right her property, and I never thought we should be separated or sold away from her.

I stayed at Mrs. Pruden's for about three months after this. Then I was sent back to Mr. Williams to be sold. Oh, that was a sad, sad time! I remember the day well. Mrs. Pruden came to me and said, "Mary, you will have to go home at once. Your master is going to be married, and he means to sell you and two of your sisters to raise money for the wedding." When I heard this, I burst into tears. But I still did not fully understand how terrible my misfortune was, or the misery waiting for me. Besides, I did not want to leave Mrs. Pruden and the dear baby, who had grown very fond of me. For a while I could hardly believe Mrs. Pruden was serious. Then I was ordered to return at once. Dear Miss Fanny! How she cried when we parted, while I kissed and hugged the baby, thinking I would never see him again. I left Mrs. Pruden's and walked home with a heart full of sorrow. The thought of being sold away from my mother and Miss Betsey was so frightening that I dared not think about it. As I have mentioned, Miss Betsey's grandfather had bought us from Mr. Myners and given us to her. So we were by right her property, and I never thought we would be separated or sold away from her.

When I reached the house, I went in directly to Miss Betsey. I found her in great distress; and she cried out as soon as she saw me, "Oh, Mary! my father is going to sell you all to raise money to marry that wicked woman. You are my slaves, and he has no right to sell you; but it is all to please her." She then told me that my mother was living with her father's sister at a house close by, and I went there to see her. It was a sorrowful meeting; and we lamented with a great and sore crying our unfortunate situation. "Here comes one of my poor picaninnies!" she said, the moment I came in, "one of the poor slave-brood who are to be sold to-morrow."

When I reached the house, I went straight in to Miss Betsey. I found her very upset. As soon as she saw me, she cried, "Oh, Mary! My father is going to sell you all to raise money to marry that wicked woman. You are my slaves, and he has no right to sell you. But he is doing it all to please her." She then told me that my mother was living with her father's sister in a nearby house. I went there to see her. It was a sorrowful meeting, and we cried bitterly over our unfortunate situation. As soon as I came in, she said, "Here comes one of my poor little children! One of the poor slave children who are to be sold tomorrow."

Oh dear! I cannot bear to think of that day,—it is too much.—It recalls the great grief that filled my heart, and the woeful thoughts that passed to and fro through my mind, whilst listening to the pitiful words of my poor mother, weeping for the loss of her children. I wish I could find words to tell you all I then felt and suffered. The great God above alone knows the thoughts of the poor slave's heart, and the bitter pains which follow such separations as these. All that we love taken away from us—Oh, it is sad, sad! and sore to be borne!—I got no sleep that night for thinking of the morrow; and dear Miss Betsey was scarcely less distressed. She could not bear to part with her old playmates, and she cried sore and would not be pacified.

Oh dear! I cannot bear to think of that day. It is too much. Remembering it brings back the great grief that filled my heart. It brings back the terrible thoughts that went through my mind as I listened to my poor mother. She wept and spoke pitifully about the loss of her children. I wish I could find words to tell you all I felt and suffered then. Only the great God above knows the thoughts in a poor slave's heart. Only he knows the bitter pain that follows such separations. All that we love is taken away from us. Oh, it is sad, sad, and so hard to bear! I got no sleep that night because I was thinking about the next day. Dear Miss Betsey was almost as distressed. She could not bear to part with her old playmates. She cried bitterly and could not be comforted.

The black morning at length came; it came too soon for my poor mother and us. Whilst she was putting on us the new osnaburgs in which we were to be sold, she said, in a sorrowful voice, (I shall never forget it!) "See, I am shrouding my poor children; what a task for a mother!"—She then called Miss Betsey to take leave of us. "I am going to carry my little chickens to market," (these were her very words,) "take your last look of them; may be you will see them no more." "Oh, my poor slaves! my own slaves!" said dear Miss Betsey, "you belong to me; and it grieves my heart to part with you."—Miss Betsey kissed us all, and, when she left us, my mother called the rest of the slaves to bid us good bye. One of them, a woman named Moll, came with her infant in her arms. "Ay!" said my mother, seeing her turn away and look at her child with the tears in her eyes, "your turn will come next." The slaves could say nothing to comfort us; they could only weep and lament with us. When I left my dear little brothers and the house in which I had been brought up, I thought my heart would burst.

At last, the dark morning came. It came too soon for my poor mother and us. She dressed us in the new osnaburg garments we were to wear when we were sold. Then she said sorrowfully, "See, I am shrouding my poor children. What a task for a mother!" I shall never forget it! She then called Miss Betsey to say goodbye to us. "I am going to carry my little chickens to market," she said. Those were her very words. "Take your last look at them. Maybe you will never see them again." "Oh, my poor slaves! My own slaves!" said dear Miss Betsey. "You belong to me, and it breaks my heart to part with you." Miss Betsey kissed us all. When she left, my mother called the other slaves to say goodbye to us. One of them, a woman named Moll, came with her infant in her arms. Moll turned away and looked at her child with tears in her eyes. Seeing this, my mother said, "Yes, your turn will come next." The slaves could say nothing to comfort us. They could only weep and mourn with us. When I left my dear little brothers and the house where I had grown up, I thought my heart would burst.

Our mother, weeping as she went, called me away with the children Hannah and Dinah, and we took the road that led to Hamble Town, which we reached about four o'clock in the afternoon. We followed my mother to the market-place, where she placed us in a row against a large house, with our backs to the wall and our arms folded across our breasts. I, as the eldest, stood first, Hannah next to me, then Dinah; and our mother stood beside, crying over us. My heart throbbed with grief and terror so violently, that I pressed my hands quite tightly across my breast, but I could not keep it still, and it continued to leap as though it would burst out of my body. But who cared for that? Did one of the many by-standers, who were looking at us so carelessly, think of the pain that wrung the hearts of the negro woman and her young ones? No, no! They were not all bad, I dare say; but slavery hardens white people's hearts towards the blacks; and many of them were not slow to make their remarks upon us aloud, without regard to our grief—though their light words fell like cayenne on the fresh wounds of our hearts. Oh those white people have small hearts who can only feel for themselves.

Our mother called me and the children, Hannah and Dinah, away. She wept as we went. We took the road to Hamble Town and arrived around four in the afternoon. We followed our mother to the marketplace. There she lined us up against a large house, with our backs to the wall and our arms folded across our chests. As the eldest, I stood first, Hannah stood next to me, and Dinah stood next. Our mother stood beside us, crying over us. My heart pounded so violently with grief and terror that I pressed my hands tightly against my chest. But I could not keep my heart still. It kept leaping as though it would burst out of my body. But who cared about that? Did any of the many bystanders who looked at us so carelessly think about the pain in the hearts of the black woman and her children? No, no! I dare say they were not all bad. But slavery hardens white people's hearts toward black people. Many of them readily made remarks about us aloud, without regard for our grief. Their casual words fell like cayenne pepper on the fresh wounds of our hearts. Oh, those white people who can feel only for themselves have small hearts.

At length the vendue master, who was to offer us for sale like sheep or cattle, arrived, and asked my mother which was the eldest. She said nothing, but pointed to me. He took me by the hand, and led me out into the middle of the street, and, turning me slowly round, exposed me to the view of those who attended the vendue. I was soon surrounded by strange men, who examined and handled me in the same manner that a butcher would a calf or a lamb he was about to purchase, and who talked about my shape and size in like words—as if I could no more understand their meaning than the dumb beasts. I was then put up to sale. The bidding commenced at a few pounds, and gradually rose to fifty-seven,¹ when I was knocked down to the highest bidder; and the people who stood by said that I had fetched a great sum for so young a slave.

At last, the auctioneer arrived. He was to offer us for sale like sheep or cattle. He asked my mother which of us was the eldest. She said nothing, but pointed to me. He took my hand and led me into the middle of the street. He slowly turned me around, showing me to the people at the auction. Strange men soon surrounded me. They examined and handled me as a butcher would a calf or lamb he was about to buy. They talked about my shape and size in the same way, as if I could understand them no more than animals could. I was then put up for sale. The bidding began at a few pounds and gradually rose to fifty-seven.¹ I was sold to the highest bidder, and the people standing by said I had brought a great sum for so young a slave.

I then saw my sisters led forth, and sold to different owners; so that we had not the sad satisfaction of being partners in bondage. When the sale was over, my mother hugged and kissed us, and mourned over us, begging of us to keep up a good heart, and do our duty to our new masters. It was a sad parting; one went one way, one another, and our poor mammy went home with nothing.²

I then saw my sisters brought out and sold to different owners. So we did not even have the sad comfort of being enslaved together. When the sale was over, my mother hugged and kissed us and mourned over us. She begged us to keep our spirits up and do our duty to our new masters. It was a sad parting. Each of us went a different way, and our poor mammy went home with nothing.²

My new master was a Captain I——, who lived at Spanish Point. After parting with my mother and sisters, I followed him to his store, and he gave me into the charge of his son, a lad about my own age, Master Benjy, who took me to my new home. I did not know where I was going, or what my new master would do with me. My heart was quite broken with grief, and my thoughts went back continually to those from whom I had been so suddenly parted. "Oh, my mother! my mother!" I kept saying to myself, "Oh, my mammy and my sisters and my brothers, shall I never see you again!"

My new master was Captain I..., who lived at Spanish Point. After saying goodbye to my mother and sisters, I followed him to his store. He put me in the care of his son, Master Benjy, a boy about my age. Master Benjy took me to my new home. I did not know where I was going or what my new master would do with me. My heart was broken with grief, and I kept thinking about those I had been separated from so suddenly. "Oh, my mother! My mother!" I kept saying to myself. "Oh, my mammy and my sisters and my brothers, will I never see you again!"

Oh, the trials! the trials! they make the salt water come into my eyes when I think of the days in which I was afflicted—the times that are gone; when I mourned and grieved with a young heart for those whom I loved.

Oh, the trials! The trials! They bring tears to my eyes when I think of those past days of suffering. I was young then, and I mourned and grieved for the people I loved.

It was night when I reached my new home. The house was large, and built at the bottom of a very high hill; but I could not see much of it that night. I saw too much of it afterwards. The stones and the timber were the best things in it; they were not so hard as the hearts of the owners.³

It was night when I reached my new home. The house was large and stood at the bottom of a very high hill. But I could not see much of it that night. I saw too much of it later. The stones and timber were the best things in the house. They were not as hard as the owners’ hearts.³

Before I entered the house, two slave women, hired from another owner, who were at work in the yard, spoke to me, and asked who I belonged to? I replied, "I am come to live here." "Poor child, poor child!" they both said; "you must keep a good heart, if you are to live here."—When I went in, I stood up crying in a corner. Mrs. I—— came and took off my hat, a little black silk hat Miss Pruden made for me, and said in a rough voice, "You are not come here to stand up in corners and cry, you are come here to work." She then put a child into my arms, and, tired as I was, I was forced instantly to take up my old occupation of a nurse.—I could not bear to look at my mistress, her countenance was so stern. She was a stout tall woman with a very dark complexion, and her brows were always drawn together into a frown. I thought of the words of the two slave women when I saw Mrs. I——, and heard the harsh sound of her voice.

Before I entered the house, two enslaved women spoke to me as they worked in the yard. They had been hired from another owner. They asked who I belonged to. I replied, "I have come to live here." "Poor child, poor child!" they both said. "You must keep your spirits up if you are to live here." When I went inside, I stood crying in a corner. Mrs. I—— came and took off my hat. It was a little black silk hat Miss Pruden had made for me. Mrs. I—— said in a rough voice, "You have not come here to stand in corners and cry. You have come here to work." She then put a child into my arms. Though I was tired, I was forced to return at once to my old work as a nurse. I could not bear to look at my mistress because her face was so stern. She was a tall, stout woman with a very dark complexion. Her brows were always drawn together in a frown. When I saw Mrs. I—— and heard her harsh voice, I thought of what the two enslaved women had said.

The person I took the most notice of that night was a French Black called Hetty, whom my master took in privateering from another vessel, and made his slave. She was the most active woman I ever saw, and she was tasked to her utmost. A few minutes after my arrival she came in from milking the cows, and put the sweet-potatoes on for supper. She then fetched home the sheep, and penned them in the fold; drove home the cattle, and staked them about the pond side;⁴ fed and rubbed down my master's horse, and gave the hog and the fed cow⁵ their suppers; prepared the beds, and undressed the children, and laid them to sleep. I liked to look at her and watch all her doings, for hers was the only friendly face I had as yet seen, and I felt glad that she was there. She gave me my supper of potatoes and milk, and a blanket to sleep upon, which she spread for me in the passage before the door of Mrs. I——'s chamber.

The person I noticed most that night was a French Black woman named Hetty. My master had taken her from another vessel while privateering and made her his slave. She was the most active woman I had ever seen, and she was made to work as hard as she could. A few minutes after I arrived, she came in from milking the cows and put the sweet potatoes on to cook for supper. Then she brought the sheep home and penned them in the fold. She drove the cattle home and staked them by the pond.⁴ She fed and rubbed down my master's horse, and gave the hog and the fattening cow⁵ their suppers. She prepared the beds, undressed the children, and put them to sleep. I liked watching everything she did, because hers was the only friendly face I had seen so far. I felt glad that she was there. She gave me potatoes and milk for supper and a blanket to sleep on. She spread the blanket for me in the passage outside the door of Mrs. I——'s room.

I got a sad fright, that night. I was just going to sleep, when I heard a noise in my mistress's room; and she presently called out to inquire if some work was finished that she had ordered Hetty to do. "No, Ma'am, not yet," was Hetty's answer from below. On hearing this, my master started up from his bed, and just as he was, in his shirt, ran down stairs with a long cow-skin⁶ in his hand. I heard immediately after, the cracking of the thong, and the house rang to the shrieks of poor Hetty, who kept crying out, "Oh, Massa! Massa! me dead. Massa! have mercy upon me—don't kill me outright."—This was a sad beginning for me. I sat up upon my blanket, trembling with terror, like a frightened hound, and thinking that my turn would come next. At length the house became still, and I forgot for a little while all my sorrows by falling fast asleep.

I had a terrible fright that night. I was just going to sleep when I heard a noise in my mistress's room. Soon she called out to ask if Hetty had finished some work she had ordered her to do. "No, Ma'am, not yet," Hetty answered from downstairs. When my master heard this, he jumped out of bed. Wearing only his shirt, he ran downstairs with a long cow-skin⁶ whip in his hand. Immediately afterward, I heard the crack of the whip, and poor Hetty's screams filled the house. She kept crying, "Oh, Master! Master! I'm dying. Master! Have mercy on me. Don't kill me outright." This was a sad beginning for me. I sat up on my blanket, trembling with terror like a frightened hound. I thought my turn would come next. At last the house grew quiet, and I fell fast asleep, forgetting all my sorrows for a little while.

The next morning my mistress set about instructing me in my tasks. She taught me to do all sorts of household work; to wash and bake, pick cotton and wool, and wash floors, and cook. And she taught me (how can I ever forget it!) more things than these; she caused me to know the exact difference between the smart of the rope, the cart-whip, and the cow-skin, when applied to my naked body by her own cruel hand. And there was scarcely any punishment more dreadful than the blows I received on my face and head from her hard heavy fist. She was a fearful woman, and a savage mistress to her slaves.

The next morning, my mistress began teaching me my tasks. She taught me all kinds of household work: washing, baking, picking cotton and wool, washing floors, and cooking. And she taught me more than these things. How could I ever forget it! With her own cruel hand, she beat my naked body. She made me feel the exact difference between the sting of a rope, a cart whip, and a cow-skin whip. And hardly any punishment was more dreadful than the blows she gave my face and head with her hard, heavy fist. She was a terrifying woman and a savage mistress to her slaves.

There were two little slave boys in the house, on whom she vented her bad temper in a special manner. One of these children was a mulatto, called Cyrus, who had been bought while an infant in his mother's arms; the other, Jack, was an African from the coast of Guinea, whom a sailor had given or sold to my master. Seldom a day passed without these boys receiving the most severe treatment, and often for no fault at all. Both my master and mistress seemed to think that they had a right to ill-use them at their pleasure; and very often accompanied their commands with blows, whether the children were behaving well or ill. I have seen their flesh ragged and raw with licks.—Lick—lick—they were never secure one moment from a blow, and their lives were passed in continual fear. My mistress was not contented with using the whip, but often pinched their cheeks and arms in the most cruel manner. My pity for these poor boys was soon transferred to myself; for I was licked, and flogged, and pinched by her pitiless fingers in the neck and arms, exactly as they were. To strip me naked—to hang me up by the wrists and lay my flesh open with the cow-skin, was an ordinary punishment for even a slight offence. My mistress often robbed me too of the hours that belong to sleep. She used to sit up very late, frequently even until morning; and I had then to stand at a bench and wash during the greater part of the night, or pick wool and cotton; and often I have dropped down overcome by sleep and fatigue, till roused from a state of stupor by the whip, and forced to start up to my tasks.

There were two young enslaved boys in the house on whom she especially vented her bad temper. One was a mixed-race boy named Cyrus, who had been bought as an infant in his mother's arms. The other was Jack, an African from the coast of Guinea whom a sailor had given or sold to my master. Hardly a day passed without the boys being treated with great cruelty, often for no fault at all. Both my master and mistress seemed to think they had the right to abuse the boys whenever they pleased. They very often gave orders with blows, whether the children were behaving well or badly. I have seen the boys' flesh torn and raw from beatings. Blow after blow, they were never safe for a moment and lived in constant fear. My mistress was not satisfied with using the whip. She often pinched their cheeks and arms in the cruelest way. My pity for these poor boys soon turned to pity for myself. For I was beaten, flogged, and pinched on my neck and arms by her pitiless fingers, just as they were. For even a slight offense, she would strip me naked, hang me by my wrists, and cut open my flesh with a cowhide whip. This was an ordinary punishment. My mistress often robbed me of sleep as well. She used to stay up very late, often until morning. I then had to stand at a bench and wash for most of the night, or pick wool and cotton. I often fell down, overcome by sleep and exhaustion. Then the whip would rouse me from my stupor and force me back to my tasks.

Poor Hetty, my fellow slave, was very kind to me, and I used to call her my Aunt; but she led a most miserable life, and her death was hastened (at least the slaves all believed and said so,) by the dreadful chastisement she received from my master during her pregnancy. It happened as follows. One of the cows had dragged the rope away from the stake to which Hetty had fastened it, and got loose. My master flew into a terrible passion, and ordered the poor creature to be stripped quite naked, notwithstanding her pregnancy, and to be tied up to a tree in the yard. He then flogged her as hard as he could lick, both with the whip and cow-skin, till she was all over streaming with blood. He rested, and then beat her again and again. Her shrieks were terrible. The consequence was that poor Hetty was brought to bed before her time, and was delivered after severe labour of a dead child. She appeared to recover after her confinement, so far that she was repeatedly flogged by both master and mistress afterwards; but her former strength never returned to her. Ere long her body and limbs swelled to a great size; and she lay on a mat in the kitchen, till the water burst out of her body and she died. All the slaves said that death was a good thing for poor Hetty; but I cried very much for her death. The manner of it filled me with horror. I could not bear to think about it; yet it was always present to my mind for many a day.

Poor Hetty, my fellow slave, was very kind to me, and I used to call her my Aunt. But she led a most miserable life. Her death came sooner because of the dreadful beating my master gave her while she was pregnant. At least, all the slaves believed and said so. This is what happened. One of the cows had pulled its rope free from the stake where Hetty had tied it. My master flew into a terrible rage. Although Hetty was pregnant, he ordered her to be stripped completely naked and tied to a tree in the yard. He then beat her as hard as he could with both the whip and the cowhide, until blood streamed all over her. He rested, then beat her again and again. Her screams were terrible. As a result, poor Hetty went into labor before her time. After a difficult labor, she gave birth to a dead child. She seemed to recover after childbirth, enough that both master and mistress flogged her repeatedly afterward. But she never regained her former strength. Before long, her body and limbs swelled greatly. She lay on a mat in the kitchen until water burst out of her body and she died. All the slaves said that death was a good thing for poor Hetty, but I cried very much over her death. The way she died filled me with horror. I could not bear to think about it, yet it was always on my mind for many days.

After Hetty died all her labours fell upon me, in addition to my own. I had now to milk eleven cows every morning before sunrise, sitting among the damp weeds; to take care of the cattle as well as the children; and to do the work of the house. There was no end to my toils—no end to my blows. I lay down at night and rose up in the morning in fear and sorrow; and often wished that like poor Hetty I could escape from this cruel bondage and be at rest in the grave. But the hand of that God whom then I knew not, was stretched over me; and I was mercifully preserved for better things. It was then, however, my heavy lot to weep, weep, weep, and that for years; to pass from one misery to another, and from one cruel master to a worse. But I must go on with the thread of my story.

After Hetty died, all her work fell to me, on top of my own. Every morning before sunrise, I had to sit among the damp weeds and milk eleven cows. I also had to look after the cattle and the children and do the housework. There was no end to my hard work, and no end to the blows I suffered. I went to bed at night and woke in the morning in fear and sorrow. I often wished that, like poor Hetty, I could escape this cruel bondage and rest in the grave. But the hand of God, whom I did not yet know, was stretched over me. I was mercifully kept alive for better things. For years, though, my heavy burden was to weep, weep, weep. I passed from one misery to another, and from one cruel master to a worse one. But I must go on with my story.

One day a heavy squall of wind and rain came on suddenly, and my mistress sent me round the corner of the house to empty a large earthen jar. The jar was already cracked with an old deep crack that divided it in the middle, and in turning it upside down to empty it, it parted in my hand. I could not help the accident, but I was dreadfully frightened, looking forward to a severe punishment. I ran crying to my mistress, "O mistress, the jar has come in two." "You have broken it, have you?" she replied; "come directly here to me." I came trembling; she stripped and flogged me long and severely with the cow-skin; as long as she had strength to use the lash, for she did not give over till she was quite tired.—When my master came home at night, she told him of my fault; and oh, frightful! how he fell a swearing. After abusing me with every ill name he could think of, (too, too bad to speak in England,) and giving me several heavy blows with his hand, he said, "I shall come home to-morrow morning at twelve, on purpose to give you a round hundred." He kept his word—Oh sad for me! I cannot easily forget it. He tied me up upon a ladder, and gave me a hundred lashes with his own hand, and master Benjy stood by to count them for him. When he had licked me for some time he sat down to take breath; then after resting, he beat me again and again, until he was quite wearied, and so hot (for the weather was very sultry), that he sank back in his chair, almost like to faint. While my mistress went to bring him drink, there was a dreadful earthquake. Part of the roof fell down, and every thing in the house went—clatter, clatter, clatter. Oh I thought the end of all things near at hand; and I was so sore with the flogging, that I scarcely cared whether I lived or died. The earth was groaning and shaking; every thing tumbling about; and my mistress and the slaves were shrieking and crying out, "The earthquake! the earthquake!" It was an awful day for us all.

One day, a violent storm of wind and rain came on suddenly. My mistress sent me around the corner of the house to empty a large earthen jar. The jar already had an old, deep crack down the middle. When I turned it upside down to empty it, it broke in two in my hands. I could not help the accident, but I was terribly frightened. I knew I would be severely punished. I ran to my mistress, crying, "Oh mistress, the jar has come in two." "You have broken it, have you?" she replied. "Come here to me at once." I came trembling. She stripped me and flogged me long and severely with a cowhide whip. She kept whipping me as long as she had the strength, and did not stop until she was exhausted. When my master came home that night, she told him what I had done. And oh, it was frightening how he began to swear! He called me every bad name he could think of, names far too terrible to speak in England. He struck me several hard blows with his hand. Then he said, "I will come home tomorrow morning at twelve, just to give you a full hundred lashes." He kept his word. Oh, what misery for me! I cannot easily forget it. He tied me to a ladder and gave me a hundred lashes with his own hand. Master Benjy stood by to count them for him. After whipping me for some time, my master sat down to catch his breath. Then, after resting, he beat me again and again until he was exhausted. The weather was very hot and humid, and he became so hot that he sank back in his chair, almost fainting. While my mistress went to bring him a drink, there was a dreadful earthquake. Part of the roof fell, and everything in the house went clatter, clatter, clatter. Oh, I thought the end of all things was near. I was so sore from the flogging that I hardly cared whether I lived or died. The earth was groaning and shaking, and everything was tumbling about. My mistress and the slaves were shrieking and crying out, "The earthquake! The earthquake!" It was an awful day for us all.

During the confusion I crawled away on my hands and knees, and laid myself down under the steps of the piazza, in front of the house. I was in a dreadful state—my body all blood and bruises, and I could not help moaning piteously. The other slaves, when they saw me, shook their heads and said, "Poor child! poor child!"—I lay there till the morning, careless of what might happen, for life was very weak in me, and I wished more than ever to die. But when we are very young, death always seems a great way off, and it would not come that night to me. The next morning I was forced by my master to rise and go about my usual work, though my body and limbs were so stiff and sore, that I could not move without the greatest pain.—Nevertheless, even after all this severe punishment, I never heard the last of that jar; my mistress was always throwing it in my face.

During the confusion, I crawled away on my hands and knees. I lay down under the steps of the porch in front of the house. I was in a terrible state. My body was covered in blood and bruises, and I could not stop moaning in misery. When the other slaves saw me, they shook their heads and said, "Poor child! Poor child!" I lay there until morning, not caring what happened. There was so little life left in me, and I wished more than ever to die. But when we are very young, death always seems far away. It would not come for me that night. The next morning, my master forced me to get up and do my usual work. My body and limbs were so stiff and sore that I could not move without terrible pain. Even after all this severe punishment, I never heard the end of the jar. My mistress was always reminding me of it.

Some little time after this, one of the cows got loose from the stake, and eat one of the sweet-potatoe slips. I was milking when my master found it out. He came to me, and without any more ado, stooped down, and taking off his heavy boot, he struck me such a severe blow in the small of my back, that I shrieked with agony, and thought I was killed; and I feel a weakness in that part to this day. The cow was frightened at his violence, and kicked down the pail and spilt the milk all about. My master knew that this accident was his own fault, but he was so enraged that he seemed glad of an excuse to go on with his ill usage. I cannot remember how many licks he gave me then, but he beat me till I was unable to stand, and till he himself was weary.

A short time later, one of the cows got loose from its stake and ate one of the sweet potato shoots. I was milking when my master found out. He came over, took off his heavy boot, and struck me a severe blow in my lower back. I shrieked in agony and thought I had been killed. I still feel weakness in that part of my back today. The cow was frightened by his violence and kicked over the pail, spilling the milk everywhere. My master knew the spilled milk was his own fault. But he was so angry that he seemed glad of an excuse to continue mistreating me. I cannot remember how many blows he gave me then. But he beat me until I could not stand and he himself was tired.

After this I ran away and went to my mother, who was living with Mr. Richard Darrel. My poor mother was both grieved and glad to see me; grieved because I had been so ill used, and glad because she had not seen me for a long, long while. She dared not receive me into the house, but she hid me up in a hole in the rocks near, and brought me food at night, after every body was asleep. My father, who lived at Crow-Lane, over the salt-water channel, at last heard of my being hid up in the cavern, and he came and took me back to my master. Oh I was loth, loth to go back; but as there was no remedy, I was obliged to submit.

After this, I ran away to my mother, who was living with Mr. Richard Darrel. My poor mother was both sad and glad to see me. She was sad because I had been treated so badly. But she was glad because she had not seen me for a long, long time. She did not dare take me into the house. Instead, she hid me in a hole in the nearby rocks. She brought me food at night, after everyone was asleep. My father lived at Crow-Lane, across the salt-water channel. He eventually heard that I was hiding in the cavern. He came and took me back to my master. Oh, how I hated, hated to go back. But there was no way around it, so I had to submit.

When we got home, my poor father said to Capt. I——, "Sir, I am sorry that my child should be forced to run away from her owner; but the treatment she has received is enough to break her heart. The sight of her wounds has nearly broke mine.—I entreat you, for the love of God, to forgive her for running away, and that you will be a kind master to her in future." Capt. I—— said I was used as well as I deserved, and that I ought to be punished for running away. I then took courage and said that I could stand the floggings no longer; that I was weary of my life, and therefore I had run away to my mother; but mothers could only weep and mourn over their children, they could not save them from cruel masters—from the whip, the rope, and the cow-skin. He told me to hold my tongue and go about my work, or he would find a way to settle me. He did not, however, flog me that day.

When we got home, my poor father said to Capt. I——, "Sir, I am sorry my child was forced to run away from her owner. But the treatment she has received is enough to break her heart. The sight of her wounds has nearly broken mine. For the love of God, I beg you to forgive her for running away and be a kind master to her in future." Capt. I—— said I had been treated as well as I deserved and should be punished for running away. I then found the courage to say that I could no longer bear the floggings. I was weary of my life, so I had run away to my mother. But mothers could only weep and mourn over their children. They could not save them from cruel masters, from the whip, the rope, and the cow-skin. He told me to hold my tongue and get back to work, or he would find a way to deal with me. He did not, however, flog me that day.

For five years after this I remained in his house, and almost daily received the same harsh treatment. At length he put me on board a sloop, and to my great joy sent me away to Turk's Island. I was not permitted to see my mother or father, or poor sisters and brothers, to say good bye, though going away to a strange land, and might never see them again. Oh the Buckra people who keep slaves think that black people are like cattle, without natural affection. But my heart tells me it is far otherwise.

For five years after this, I stayed in his house and suffered the same harsh treatment almost every day. At last, he put me aboard a sloop and sent me to Turk's Island, to my great joy. I was not allowed to say goodbye to my mother, father, or my poor sisters and brothers. Yet I was going to a strange land and might never see them again. Oh, the Buckra people who keep slaves think black people are like cattle, without natural affection. But my heart tells me otherwise.

We were nearly four weeks on the voyage, which was unusually long. Sometimes we had a light breeze, sometimes a great calm, and the ship made no way; so that our provisions and water ran very low, and we were put upon short allowance. I should almost have been starved had it not been for the kindness of a black man called Anthony, and his wife, who had brought their own victuals, and shared them with me.

The voyage took nearly four weeks, which was unusually long. Sometimes there was a light breeze. At other times, there was no wind at all, and the ship could not move. As a result, our food and water ran very low, and we were given smaller portions. I would have almost starved if not for the kindness of a Black man named Anthony and his wife. They had brought their own food and shared it with me.

When we went ashore at the Grand Quay, the captain sent me to the house of my new master, Mr. D——, to whom Captain I——had sold me. Grand Quay is a small town upon a sandbank; the houses low and built of wood. Such was my new master's. The first person I saw, on my arrival, was Mr. D——, a stout sulky looking man, who carried me through the hall to show me to his wife and children. Next day I was put up by the vendue master to know how much I was worth, and I was valued at one hundred pounds currency.

When we went ashore at the Grand Quay, the captain sent me to the house of my new master, Mr. D. Captain I had sold me to him. Grand Quay is a small town on a sandbank. Its houses are low and made of wood. My new master’s house was like the others. The first person I saw when I arrived was Mr. D, a stout, sulky-looking man. He took me through the hall to show me to his wife and children. The next day, the auctioneer put me up to see how much I was worth. I was valued at one hundred pounds in local currency.

My new master was one of the owners or holders of the salt ponds, and he received a certain sum for every slave that worked upon his premises, whether they were young or old. This sum was allowed him out of the profits arising from the salt works. I was immediately sent to work in the salt water with the rest of the slaves. This work was perfectly new to me. I was given a half barrel and a shovel, and had to stand up to my knees in the water, from four o'clock in the morning till nine, when we were given some Indian corn boiled in water, which we were obliged to swallow as fast as we could for fear the rain should come on and melt the salt. We were then called again to our tasks, and worked through the heat of the day; the sun flaming upon our heads like fire, and raising salt blisters in those parts which were not completely covered. Our feet and legs, from standing in the salt water for so many hours, soon became full of dreadful boils, which eat down in some cases to the very bone, afflicting the sufferers with great torment. We came home at twelve; ate our corn soup, called blawly, as fast as we could, and went back to our employment till dark at night. We then shovelled up the salt in large heaps, and went down to the sea, where we washed the pickle from our limbs, and cleaned the barrows and shovels from the salt. When we returned to the house, our master gave us each our allowance of raw Indian corn, which we pounded in a mortar and boiled in water for our suppers.

My new master was one of the owners or holders of the salt ponds. He received a certain sum for every enslaved person who worked on his property, whether young or old. He was paid this sum from the profits of the salt works. I was immediately sent to work in the salt water with the other enslaved people. This work was completely new to me. I was given a half barrel and a shovel. I had to stand knee-deep in the water from four in the morning until nine. Then we were given some Indian corn boiled in water. We had to swallow it as fast as we could, for fear that rain would come and melt the salt. Then we were called back to our tasks and worked through the heat of the day. The sun blazed on our heads like fire and raised salt blisters wherever our skin was not completely covered. Standing in salt water for so many hours soon left our feet and legs covered in dreadful boils. In some cases, the boils ate down to the bone, causing the sufferers great torment. We came home at twelve and ate our corn soup, called blawly, as fast as we could. Then we went back to work until dark. We then shovelled the salt into large heaps and went down to the sea. There we washed the salt water from our limbs and cleaned the salt from the barrows and shovels. When we returned to the house, our master gave each of us an allowance of raw Indian corn. We pounded the corn in a mortar and boiled it in water for our suppers.

We slept in a long shed, divided into narrow slips, like the stalls used for cattle. Boards fixed upon stakes driven into the ground, without mat or covering, were our only beds. On Sundays, after we had washed the salt bags, and done other work required of us, we went into the bush and cut the long soft grass, of which we made trusses for our legs and feet to rest upon, for they were so full of the salt boils that we could get no rest lying upon the bare boards.

We slept in a long shed divided into narrow spaces, like cattle stalls. Our only beds were boards laid on stakes driven into the ground, with no mats or covering. On Sundays, after washing the salt bags and doing other required work, we went into the bush. There we cut long, soft grass and made it into bundles to rest our legs and feet on. Our legs and feet were so covered in salt boils that we could not rest them on the bare boards.

Though we worked from morning till night, there was no satisfying Mr. D——. I hoped, when I left Capt. I——, that I should have been better off, but I found it was but going from one butcher to another. There was this difference between them: my former master used to beat me while raging and foaming with passion; Mr. D—— was usually quite calm. He would stand by and give orders for a slave to be cruelly whipped, and assist in the punishment, without moving a muscle of his face; walking about and taking snuff with the greatest composure. Nothing could touch his hard heart—neither sighs, nor tears, nor prayers, nor streaming blood; he was deaf to our cries, and careless of our sufferings. Mr. D—— has often stripped me naked, hung me up by the wrists, and beat me with the cow-skin, with his own hand, till my body was raw with gashes. Yet there was nothing very remarkable in this; for it might serve as a sample of the common usage of the slaves on that horrible island.

Though we worked from morning until night, nothing satisfied Mr. D. When I left Capt. I, I hoped I would be better off. But I found I had only gone from one butcher to another. There was one difference between them. My former master would beat me while raging and foaming with anger. Mr. D was usually quite calm. He would stand by and order a slave to be cruelly whipped. He would also help punish the slave without moving a muscle in his face. He walked about and took snuff with complete composure. Nothing could touch his hard heart, not sighs, tears, prayers, or streaming blood. He was deaf to our cries and did not care about our suffering. Mr. D often stripped me naked, hung me up by my wrists, and beat me himself with a cowhide whip. He beat me until my body was raw with gashes. Yet there was nothing very unusual about this. It was an example of how slaves were commonly treated on that horrible island.

Owing to the boils in my feet, I was unable to wheel the barrow fast through the sand, which got into the sores, and made me stumble at every step; and my master, having no pity for my sufferings from this cause, rendered them far more intolerable, by chastising me for not being able to move so fast as he wished me. Another of our employments was to row a little way off from the shore in a boat, and dive for large stones to build a wall round our master's house. This was very hard work; and the great waves breaking over us continually, made us often so giddy that we lost our footing, and were in danger of being drowned.

Because of the boils on my feet, I could not push the wheelbarrow quickly through the sand. The sand got into my sores and made me stumble with every step. My master had no pity for my suffering. He made it far worse by punishing me because I could not move as fast as he wanted. Another of our jobs was to row a little way from shore and dive for large stones. The stones were for building a wall around our master's house. This was very hard work. Great waves kept breaking over us, often making us so dizzy that we lost our footing and risked drowning.

Ah, poor me!—my tasks were never ended. Sick or well, it was work—work—work!—After the diving season was over, we were sent to the South Creek, with large bills, to cut up mangoes to burn lime with. Whilst one party of slaves were thus employed, another were sent to the other side of the island to break up coral out of the sea.

Oh, poor me! My tasks never ended. Whether sick or well, it was work, work, work! After the diving season ended, we were sent to South Creek with large cutting tools. There we cut up mango trees to burn for lime. While one group of enslaved people did this, another was sent to the other side of the island to break coral from the sea.

When we were ill, let our complaint be what it might, the only medicine given to us was a great bowl of hot salt water, with salt mixed with it, which made us very sick. If we could not keep up with the rest of the gang of slaves, we were put in the stocks, and severely flogged the next morning. Yet, not the less, our master expected, after we had thus been kept from our rest, and our limbs rendered stiff and sore with ill usage, that we should still go through the ordinary tasks of the day all the same.—Sometimes we had to work all night, measuring salt to load a vessel; or turning a machine to draw water out of the sea for the salt-making. Then we had no sleep—no rest—but were forced to work as fast as we could, and go on again all next day the same as usual. Work—work—work—Oh that Turk's Island was a horrible place! The people in England, I am sure, have never found out what is carried on there. Cruel, horrible place!

When we were ill, whatever our complaint, the only medicine we were given was a large bowl of hot salt water, with salt mixed into it. It made us very sick. If we could not keep up with the rest of the slave gang, we were put in the stocks and severely flogged the next morning. Even so, our master expected us to do our usual work that day. He expected this after we had been kept from our rest, with our limbs stiff and sore from the abuse. Sometimes we had to work all night, measuring salt to load onto a ship. At other times, we turned a machine that drew water from the sea for making salt. Then we had no sleep, no rest. We were forced to work as fast as we could and carry on as usual throughout the next day. Work, work, work. Oh, Turk's Island was a horrible place! I am sure the people in England have never found out what goes on there. Cruel, horrible place!

Mr. D—— had a slave called old Daniel, whom he used to treat in the most cruel manner. Poor Daniel was lame in the hip, and could not keep up with the rest of the slaves; and our master would order him to be stripped and laid down on the ground, and have him beaten with a rod of rough briar till his skin was quite red and raw. He would then call for a bucket of salt, and fling upon the raw flesh till the man writhed on the ground like a worm, and screamed aloud with agony. This poor man's wounds were never healed, and I have often seen them full of maggots, which increased his torments to an intolerable degree. He was an object of pity and terror to the whole gang of slaves, and in his wretched case we saw, each of us, our own lot, if we should live to be as old.

Mr. D---- had an enslaved man called old Daniel, whom he treated with great cruelty. Poor Daniel had a bad hip and could not keep up with the other enslaved people. Our master would order him stripped and laid on the ground. Then he would have Daniel beaten with a rough briar rod until his skin was red and raw. He would then call for a bucket of salt and throw it onto Daniel’s raw flesh. Daniel would writhe on the ground like a worm and scream aloud in agony. This poor man’s wounds never healed. I often saw them full of maggots, which made his suffering unbearable. All the enslaved people felt pity and terror when they saw him. In his wretched condition, each of us saw what would happen to us if we lived to be as old.

Oh the horrors of slavery!—How the thought of it pains my heart! But the truth ought to be told of it; and what my eyes have seen I think it is my duty to relate; for few people in England know what slavery is. I have been a slave—I have felt what a slave feels, and I know what a slave knows; and I would have all the good people in England to know it too, that they may break our chains, and set us free.

Oh, the horrors of slavery! The thought of slavery pains my heart! But the truth about slavery should be told. I believe it is my duty to tell what I have seen, because few people in England know what slavery is. I have been a slave. I have felt what a slave feels, and I know what a slave knows. I want all the good people in England to know it too, so they may break our chains and set us free.

Mr. D—— had another slave called Ben. He being very hungry, stole a little rice one night after he came in from work, and cooked it for his supper. But his master soon discovered the theft; locked him up all night; and kept him without food till one o'clock the next day. He then hung Ben up by his hands, and beat him from time to time till the slaves came in at night. We found the poor creature hung up when we came home; with a pool of blood beneath him, and our master still licking him. But this was not the worst. My master's son was in the habit of stealing the rice and rum. Ben had seen him do this, and thought he might do the same, and when master found out that Ben had stolen the rice and swore to punish him, he tried to excuse himself by saying that Master Dickey did the same thing every night. The lad denied it to his father, and was so angry with Ben for informing against him, that out of revenge he ran and got a bayonet, and whilst the poor wretch was suspended by his hands and writhing under his wounds, he run it quite through his foot. I was not by when he did it, but I saw the wound when I came home, and heard Ben tell the manner in which it was done.

Mr. D—— had another slave called Ben. One night, Ben was very hungry when he came in from work. He stole a little rice and cooked it for his supper. But his master soon discovered the theft. He locked Ben up all night and kept him without food until one o'clock the next day. He then hung Ben up by his hands and beat him from time to time until the slaves came in at night. When we came home, we found the poor man hanging there, with a pool of blood beneath him. Our master was still beating him. But this was not the worst of it. My master's son often stole rice and rum. Ben had seen him do it and thought he could do the same. When master found out that Ben had stolen the rice, he swore to punish him. Ben tried to excuse himself by saying that Master Dickey did the same thing every night. The boy denied it to his father. He was so angry with Ben for telling on him that he ran and got a bayonet for revenge. The poor man was hanging by his hands and writhing from his wounds. The boy drove the bayonet right through his foot. I was not there when he did it, but I saw the wound when I came home. I also heard Ben tell how it had been done.

I must say something more about this cruel son of a cruel father.—He had no heart—no fear of God; he had been brought up by a bad father in a bad path, and he delighted to follow in the same steps. There was a little old woman among the slaves called Sarah, who was nearly past work; and, Master Dickey being the overseer of the slaves just then, this poor creature, who was subject to several bodily infirmities, and was not quite right in her head, did not wheel the barrow fast enough to please him. He threw her down on the ground, and after beating her severely, he took her up in his arms and flung her among the prickly-pear bushes, which are all covered over with sharp venomous prickles. By this her naked flesh was so grievously wounded, that her body swelled and festered all over, and she died a few days after. In telling my own sorrows, I cannot pass by those of my fellow-slaves—for when I think of my own griefs, I remember theirs.

I must say something more about this cruel son of a cruel father. He had no heart and no fear of God. His bad father had raised him to follow a bad path, and he delighted in following in his footsteps. Among the slaves was a little old woman named Sarah, who was nearly too old to work. At the time, Master Dickey was the overseer of the slaves. Poor Sarah suffered from several physical ailments and was not quite right in her mind. She did not push the wheelbarrow fast enough to please him. He threw her to the ground and beat her severely. Then he picked her up in his arms and flung her into the prickly-pear bushes, which are covered with sharp, venomous prickles. Her bare flesh was so badly wounded that her whole body swelled and festered. She died a few days later. In telling my own sorrows, I cannot pass over those of my fellow slaves. For when I think of my own griefs, I remember theirs.

I think it was about ten years I had worked in the salt ponds at Turk's Island, when my master left off business, and retired to a house he had in Bermuda, leaving his son to succeed him in the island. He took me with him to wait upon his daughters; and I was joyful, for I was sick, sick of Turk's Island, and my heart yearned to see my native place again, my mother, and my kindred.

I think I had worked in the salt ponds at Turk's Island for about ten years when my master stopped working. He retired to a house he owned in Bermuda, leaving his son to take over his business on the island. He took me with him to serve his daughters. I was joyful, for I was sick, sick of Turk's Island. My heart longed to see my native place again, my mother, and my relatives.

I had seen my poor mother during the time I was a slave in Turk's Island. One Sunday morning I was on the beach with some of the slaves, and we saw a sloop come in loaded with slaves to work in the salt water. We got a boat and went aboard. When I came upon the deck I asked the black people, "Is there any one here for me?" "Yes," they said, "your mother." I thought they said this in jest—I could scarcely believe them for joy; but when I saw my poor mammy my joy was turned to sorrow, for she had gone from her senses. "Mammy," I said, "is this you?" She did not know me. "Mammy," I said, "what's the matter?" She began to talk foolishly, and said that she had been under the vessel's bottom. They had been overtaken by a violent storm at sea. My poor mother had never been on the sea before, and she was so ill, that she lost her senses, and it was long before she came quite to herself again. She had a sweet child with her—a little sister I had never seen, about four years of age, called Rebecca. I took her on shore with me, for I felt I should love her directly; and I kept her with me a week. Poor little thing! her's has been a sad life, and continues so to this day. My mother worked for some years on the island, but was taken back to Bermuda some time before my master carried me again thither.⁷

I saw my poor mother while I was enslaved on Turk's Island. One Sunday morning I was on the beach with some of the other enslaved people. We saw a sloop arrive carrying enslaved people to work in the salt water. We got a boat and went aboard. When I came on deck, I asked the black people, "Is there anyone here for me?" "Yes," they said, "your mother." I thought they were joking. I could hardly believe them for joy. But when I saw my poor mammy, my joy turned to sorrow, for she had lost her senses. "Mammy," I said, "is this you?" She did not know me. "Mammy," I said, "what's the matter?" She began to talk foolishly and said she had been under the bottom of the vessel. They had been caught in a violent storm at sea. My poor mother had never been at sea before. She became so ill that she lost her senses, and it was a long time before she fully recovered. She had a sweet child with her, a little sister I had never seen. She was about four years old and was called Rebecca. I took her ashore with me, for I felt I would love her right away. I kept her with me for a week. Poor little thing! Her life has been sad and continues to be so to this day. My mother worked on the island for some years. But she was taken back to Bermuda some time before my master took me there again.⁷

After I left Turk's Island, I was told by some negroes that came over from it, that the poor slaves had built up a place with boughs and leaves, where they might meet for prayers, but the white people pulled it down twice, and would not allow them even a shed for prayers. A flood came down soon after and washed away many houses, filled the place with sand, and overflowed the ponds: and I do think that this was for their wickedness; for the Buckra men⁸ there were very wicked. I saw and heard much that was very very bad at that place.

After I left Turk's Island, some Black people who came from there told me what had happened. The poor slaves had built a shelter of branches and leaves where they could meet to pray. But the white people tore it down twice. They would not allow the slaves even a shed for prayers. Soon afterward, a flood washed away many houses, filled the place with sand, and overflowed the ponds. I believe this happened because of their wickedness, for the Buckra men⁸ there were very wicked. I saw and heard many things there that were very, very bad.

I was several years the slave of Mr. D—— after I returned to my native place. Here I worked in the grounds. My work was planting and hoeing sweet-potatoes, Indian corn, plantains, bananas, cabbages, pumpkins, onions, &c. I did all the household work, and attended upon a horse and cow besides,—going also upon all errands. I had to curry the horse—to clean and feed him—and sometimes to ride him a little. I had more than enough to do—but still it was not so very bad as Turk's Island.

I was Mr. D’s slave for several years after I returned to my native place. There I worked in the fields, planting and hoeing sweet potatoes, corn, plantains, bananas, cabbages, pumpkins, onions, and other crops. I did all the housework, looked after a horse and a cow, and ran all the errands. I had to groom, clean, and feed the horse, and sometimes ride him a little. I had more than enough to do, but it was still not as bad as Turk's Island.

My old master often got drunk, and then he would get in a fury with his daughter, and beat her till she was not fit to be seen. I remember on one occasion, I had gone to fetch water, and when I Was coming up the hill I heard a great screaming; I ran as fast as I could to the house, put down the water, and went into the chamber, where I found my master beating Miss D—— dreadfully. I strove with all my strength to get her away from him; for she was all black and blue with bruises. He had beat her with his fist, and almost killed her. The people gave me credit for getting her away. He turned round and began to lick me. Then I said, "Sir, this is not Turk's Island." I can't repeat his answer, the words were too wicked—too bad to say. He wanted to treat me the same in Bermuda as he had done in Turk's Island.

My old master often got drunk. Then he would become furious with his daughter and beat her until she was not fit to be seen. I remember one time when I had gone to fetch water. As I came up the hill, I heard terrible screaming. I ran as fast as I could to the house, put down the water, and went into the bedroom. There I found my master beating Miss D—— terribly. I tried with all my strength to get her away from him, because she was covered in black and blue bruises. He had beaten her with his fist and almost killed her. People gave me credit for getting her away. He turned around and began to beat me. Then I said, "Sir, this is not Turk's Island." I can't repeat his answer. The words were too wicked, too bad to say. He wanted to treat me the same way in Bermuda as he had in Turk's Island.

He had an ugly fashion of stripping himself quite naked, and ordering me then to wash him in a tub of water. This was worse to me than all the licks. Sometimes when he called me to wash him I would not come, my eyes were so full of shame. He would then come to beat me. One time I had plates and knives in my hand, and I dropped both plates and knives, and some of the plates were broken. He struck me so severely for this, that at last I defended myself, for I thought it was high time to do so. I then told him I would not live longer with him, for he was a very indecent man—very spiteful, and too indecent; with no shame for his servants, no shame for his own flesh. So I went away to a neighbouring house and sat down and cried till the next morning, when I went home again, not knowing what else to do.

He had an ugly habit of stripping completely naked and ordering me to wash him in a tub of water. This was worse to me than all the beatings. Sometimes, when he called me to wash him, I would not come because I was so ashamed. Then he would come and beat me. Once, I had plates and knives in my hands, and I dropped them. Some of the plates broke. He beat me so severely for this that I finally defended myself. I thought it was high time I did. Then I told him I would not live with him any longer. He was a very indecent man, very spiteful and too indecent. He had no shame before his servants, no shame about his own body. So I went to a neighboring house and sat and cried until the next morning. Then I went home again, not knowing what else to do.

After that I was hired to work at Cedar Hills, and every Saturday night I paid the money to my master. I had plenty of work to do there—plenty of washing; but yet I made myself pretty comfortable. I earned two dollars and a quarter a week, which is twenty pence a day.

After that, I was hired to work at Cedar Hills. Every Saturday night, I paid the money to my master. I had plenty of work there, especially washing, but I made myself fairly comfortable. I earned two dollars and a quarter a week, or twenty pence a day.

During the time I worked there, I heard that Mr. John Wood was going to Antigua. I felt a great wish to go there, and I went to Mr. D——, and asked him to let me go in Mr. Wood's service. Mr. Wood did not then want to purchase me; it was my own fault that I came under him, I was so anxious to go. It was ordained to be, I suppose; God led me there. The truth is, I did not wish to be any longer the slave of my indecent master.

While I worked there, I heard that Mr. John Wood was going to Antigua. I wanted very much to go there, so I asked Mr. D to let me go in Mr. Wood's service. Mr. Wood did not want to buy me then. It was my own fault that I came under him, because I was so eager to go. I suppose it was meant to be. God led me there. The truth is, I no longer wanted to be the slave of my indecent master.

Mr. Wood took me with him to Antigua, to the town of St. John's, where he lived. This was about fifteen years ago. He did not then know whether I was to be sold; but Mrs. Wood found that I could work, and she wanted to buy me. Her husband then wrote to my master to inquire whether I was to be sold? Mr. D—— wrote in reply, "that I should not be sold to any one that would treat me ill." It was strange he should say this, when he had treated me so ill himself. So I was purchased by Mr. Wood for 300 dollars, (or £100 Bermuda currency.)⁹

Mr. Wood took me with him to St. John's, Antigua, where he lived. This was about fifteen years ago. He did not yet know whether I was to be sold. But Mrs. Wood saw that I could work, and she wanted to buy me. Her husband then wrote to my master to ask whether I was to be sold. Mr. D--- wrote back, "that I should not be sold to anyone who would treat me badly." It was strange for him to say that, since he had treated me so badly himself. So Mr. Wood bought me for 300 dollars (or £100 in Bermuda currency).⁹

My work there was to attend the chambers and nurse the child, and to go down to the pond and wash clothes. But I soon fell ill of the rheumatism, and grew so very lame that I was forced to walk with a stick. I got the Saint Anthony's fire, also, in my left leg, and became quite a cripple. No one cared much to come near me, and I was ill a long long time; for several months I could not lift the limb. I had to lie in a little old out-house, that was swarming with bugs and other vermin, which tormented me greatly; but I had no other place to lie in. I got the rheumatism by catching cold at the pond side, from washing in the fresh water; in the salt water I never got cold. The person who lived in next yard, (a Mrs. Greene,) could not bear to hear my cries and groans. She was kind, and used to send an old slave woman to help me, who sometimes brought me a little soup. When the doctor found I was so ill, he said I must be put into a bath of hot water. The old slave got the bark of some bush that was good for the pains, which she boiled in the hot water, and every night she came and put me into the bath, and did what she could for me: I don't know what I should have done, or what would have become of me, had it not been for her.—My mistress, it is true, did send me a little food; but no one from our family came near me but the cook, who used to shove my food in at the door, and say, "Molly, Molly, there's your dinner." My mistress did not care to take any trouble about me; and if the Lord had not put it into the hearts of the neighbours to be kind to me, I must, I really think, have lain and died.

My work there was to look after the bedrooms, care for the child, and wash clothes at the pond. But I soon fell ill with rheumatism. I became so lame that I had to walk with a stick. I also got Saint Anthony's fire in my left leg and became completely crippled. Hardly anyone cared to come near me, and I was ill for a long, long time. For several months, I could not lift my leg. I had to lie in a little old outbuilding that was swarming with bugs and other vermin. They tormented me terribly, but I had nowhere else to lie. I got rheumatism from catching cold while washing in the fresh water at the pond. I never got cold in salt water. The woman who lived in the next yard, Mrs. Greene, could not bear to hear my cries and groans. She was kind and used to send an old enslaved woman to help me. The woman sometimes brought me a little soup. When the doctor saw how ill I was, he said I had to be put in a hot bath. The old enslaved woman got the bark of a bush that was good for pain. She boiled it in the bathwater. Every night she came and put me in the bath and did what she could for me. I don't know what I would have done or what would have become of me without her. My mistress did send me a little food. But the cook was the only person from our household who came near me. She used to shove my food through the door and say, "Molly, Molly, there's your dinner." My mistress did not want to take any trouble over me. If the Lord had not put it into the neighbours' hearts to be kind to me, I really think I would have lain there and died.

It was a long time before I got well enough to work in the house. Mrs. Wood, in the meanwhile, hired a mulatto woman to nurse the child; but she was such a fine lady she wanted to be mistress over me. I thought it very hard for a coloured woman to have rule over me because I was a slave and she was free. Her name was Martha Wilcox; she was a saucy woman, very saucy; and she went and complained of me, without cause, to my mistress, and made her angry with me. Mrs. Wood told me that if I did not mind what I was about, she would get my master to strip me and give me fifty lashes: "You have been used to the whip," she said, "and you shall have it here." This was the first time she threatened to have me flogged; and she gave me the threatening so strong of what she would have done to me, that I thought I should have fallen down at her feet, I was so vexed and hurt by her words. The mulatto woman was rejoiced to have power to keep me down. She was constantly making mischief; there was no living for the slaves—no peace after she came.

It was a long time before I was well enough to work in the house. Meanwhile, Mrs. Wood hired a mulatto woman to nurse the child. But the woman was such a fine lady that she wanted to be mistress over me. I thought it very unfair that a coloured woman should have authority over me because I was enslaved and she was free. Her name was Martha Wilcox. She was a rude woman, very rude. She complained about me to my mistress without cause and made her angry with me. Mrs. Wood told me that if I did not watch what I was doing, she would have my master strip me and give me fifty lashes. "You have been used to the whip," she said, "and you shall have it here." This was the first time she threatened to have me flogged. She spoke so forcefully about what she would have done to me that I thought I would fall at her feet. Her words upset and hurt me so much. The mulatto woman was delighted to have the power to keep me down. She was constantly making trouble. After she came, the slaves could hardly live. There was no peace.

I was also sent by Mrs. Wood to be put in the Cage one night, and was next morning flogged, by the magistrate's order, at her desire; and this all for a quarrel I had about a pig with another slave woman. I was flogged on my naked back on this occasion: although I was in no fault after all; for old Justice Dyett, when we came before him, said that I was in the right, and ordered the pig to be given to me. This was about two or three years after I came to Antigua.

Mrs. Wood also had me put in the Cage one night. The next morning, the magistrate ordered me flogged at her request. All this was because I had quarreled with another enslaved woman over a pig. I was flogged on my bare back, although I was not at fault after all. When we appeared before old Justice Dyett, he said I was right and ordered that the pig be given to me. This happened about two or three years after I came to Antigua.

When we moved from the middle of the town to the Point, I used to be in the house and do all the work and mind the children, though still very ill with the rheumatism. Every week I had to wash two large bundles of clothes, as much as a boy could help me to lift; but I could give no satisfaction. My mistress was always abusing and fretting after me. It is not possible to tell all her ill language.—One day she followed me foot after foot scolding and rating me. I bore in silence a great deal of ill words: at last my heart was quite full, and I told her that she ought not to use me so;—that when I was ill I might have lain and died for what she cared; and no one would then come near me to nurse me, because they were afraid of my mistress. This was a great affront. She called her husband and told him what I had said. He flew into a passion: but did not beat me then; he only abused and swore at me; and then gave me a note and bade me go and look for an owner. Not that he meant to sell me; but he did this to please his wife and to frighten me. I went to Adam White, a cooper, a free black, who had money, and asked him to buy me. He went directly to Mr. Wood, but was informed that I was not to be sold. The next day my master whipped me.

When we moved from the middle of town to the Point, I worked in the house. I did all the work and looked after the children, though I was still very ill with rheumatism. Every week I had to wash two large bundles of clothes. They were so heavy that a boy had to help me lift them, but I could not satisfy my mistress. She was always abusing me and complaining about me. It is impossible to tell all the foul things she said. One day she followed me everywhere, scolding and berating me. I put up with a great deal of abuse in silence. At last I could bear no more, and I told her she ought not to treat me so. I told her that when I was ill, I might have lain there and died for all she cared. No one would come near me to nurse me, because they were afraid of my mistress. She took great offense at this. She called her husband and told him what I had said. He flew into a rage, but he did not beat me then. He only abused me and swore at me. Then he gave me a note and told me to go and look for an owner. He did not mean to sell me. He did it to please his wife and frighten me. I went to Adam White, a cooper, a free Black man who had money, and asked him to buy me. He went straight to Mr. Wood, but was told that I was not for sale. The next day my master whipped me.

Another time (about five years ago) my mistress got vexed with me, because I fell sick and I could not keep on with my work. She complained to her husband, and he sent me off again to look for an owner. I went to a Mr. Burchell, showed him the note, and asked him to buy me for my own benefit; for I had saved about 100 dollars, and hoped, with a little help, to purchase my freedom. He accordingly went to my master:—"Mr. Wood," he said, "Molly has brought me a note that she wants an owner. If you intend to sell her, I may as well buy her as another." My master put him off and said that he did not mean to sell me. I was very sorry at this, for I had no comfort with Mrs. Wood, and I wished greatly to get my freedom.

Another time, about five years ago, I fell sick and could not continue my work. My mistress became angry with me because of this. She complained to her husband, and he sent me away again to look for an owner. I went to Mr. Burchell and showed him the note. I asked him to buy me for my own benefit. I had saved about 100 dollars and hoped, with a little help, to buy my freedom. So he went to my master and said, "Mr. Wood, Molly has brought me a note saying she wants an owner. If you intend to sell her, I might as well buy her as anyone else." My master put him off and said he did not intend to sell me. I was very sorry to hear this, because I had no comfort with Mrs. Wood, and I very much wanted my freedom.

The way in which I made my money was this.—When my master and mistress went from home, as they sometimes did, and left me to take care of the house and premises, I had a good deal of time to myself, and made the most of it. I took in washing, and sold coffee and yams and other provisions to the captains of ships. I did not sit still idling during the absence of my owners; for I wanted, by all honest means, to earn money to buy my freedom. Sometimes I bought a hog cheap on board ship, and sold it for double the money on shore; and I also earned a good deal by selling coffee. By this means I by degrees acquired a little cash. A gentleman also lent me some to help to buy my freedom—but when I could not get free he got it back again. His name was Captain Abbot.

This is how I earned my money. Sometimes my master and mistress went away and left me to look after the house and property. Then I had plenty of time to myself, and I made the most of it. I took in laundry and sold coffee, yams, and other supplies to ship captains. While my owners were away, I did not sit idle. I wanted to earn money by all honest means to buy my freedom. Sometimes I bought a hog cheaply on a ship and sold it on shore for twice the price. I also earned a good deal by selling coffee. In this way, I gradually saved a little money. A gentleman named Captain Abbot also lent me some money to help buy my freedom. But when I could not get free, he got the money back.

My master and mistress went on one occasion into the country, to Date Hill, for change of air, and carried me with them to take charge of the children, and to do the work of the house. While I was in the country, I saw how the field negroes are worked in Antigua. They are worked very hard and fed but scantily. They are called out to work before daybreak, and come home after dark; and then each has to heave his bundle of grass for the cattle in the pen. Then, on Sunday morning, each slave has to go out and gather a large bundle of grass; and, when they bring it home, they have all to sit at the manager's door and wait till he come out: often have they to wait there till past eleven o'clock, without any breakfast. After that, those that have yams or potatoes, or fire-wood to sell, hasten to market to buy a dog's worth¹⁰ of salt fish, or pork, which is a great treat for them. Some of them buy a little pickle out of the shad barrels, which they call sauce, to season their yams and Indian corn. It is very wrong, I know, to work on Sunday or go to market; but will not God call the Buckra men to answer for this on the great day of judgment—since they will give the slaves no other day?

Once, my master and mistress went to Date Hill in the country for a change of air. They took me with them to care for the children and do the housework. While I was there, I saw how the enslaved field workers in Antigua are made to work. They are worked very hard and given very little food. They are called out to work before daybreak and come home after dark. Then each one has to carry a bundle of grass for the cattle in the pen. On Sunday morning, each enslaved person has to go out and gather a large bundle of grass. When they bring the grass home, they all have to sit at the manager's door and wait for him. Often they have to wait there until after eleven o'clock, without any breakfast. After that, those who have yams, potatoes, or firewood to sell hurry to market. There they sell their goods and buy a dog's worth¹⁰ of salt fish or pork, a great treat for them. Some buy a little brine from the shad barrels, which they call sauce, to season their yams and corn. I know it is very wrong to work or go to market on Sunday. But will God not call the Buckra men to answer for this on the great day of judgment? After all, they give the enslaved people no other day.

While we were at Date Hill Christmas came; and the slave woman who had the care of the place (which then belonged to Mr. Roberts the marshal), asked me to go with her to her husband's house, to a Methodist meeting for prayer, at a plantation called Winthorps. I went; and they were the first prayers I ever understood. One woman prayed; and then they all sung a hymn; then there was another prayer and another hymn; and then they all spoke by turns of their own griefs as sinners. The husband of the woman I went with was a black driver. His name was Henry. He confessed that he had treated the slaves very cruelly; but said that he was compelled to obey the orders of his master. He prayed them all to forgive him, and he prayed that God would forgive him. He said it was a horrid thing for a ranger¹¹ to have sometimes to beat his own wife or sister; but he must do so if ordered by his master.

Christmas came while we were at Date Hill. At the time, the place belonged to Mr. Roberts the marshal. The enslaved woman in charge of the place invited me to her husband's house for a Methodist prayer meeting. His house was on a plantation called Winthorps. I went, and those were the first prayers I ever understood. One woman prayed, and then everyone sang a hymn. Then there was another prayer and another hymn. Afterward, everyone took turns speaking about their own sorrows as sinners. The husband of the woman I went with was a black driver. His name was Henry. He confessed that he had treated the enslaved people very cruelly, but said he was forced to obey his master's orders. He begged everyone to forgive him, and he prayed that God would forgive him. He said it was a terrible thing for a ranger¹¹ to have to beat his own wife or sister. But he had to do it if his master ordered him to.

I felt sorry for my sins also. I cried the whole night, but I was too much ashamed to speak. I prayed God to forgive me. This meeting had a great impression on my mind, and led my spirit to the Moravian church; so that when I got back to town, I went and prayed to have my name put down in the Missionaries' book; and I followed the church earnestly every opportunity. I did not then tell my mistress about it; for I knew that she would not give me leave to go. But I felt I must go. Whenever I carried the children their lunch at school, I ran round and went to hear the teachers.

I also felt sorry for my sins. I cried all night, but I was too ashamed to speak. I prayed to God to forgive me. The meeting made a deep impression on me and drew me to the Moravian church. So when I got back to town, I went and asked to have my name entered in the Missionaries' book. I faithfully attended church whenever I had the chance. I did not tell my mistress then, because I knew she would not let me go. But I felt I must go. Whenever I brought the children their lunch at school, I ran around to hear the teachers.

The Moravian ladies (Mrs. Richter, Mrs. Olufsen, and Mrs. Sauter) taught me to read in the class; and I got on very fast. In this class there were all sorts of people, old and young, grey headed folks and children; but most of them were free people. After we had done spelling, we tried to read in the Bible. After the reading was over, the missionary gave out a hymn for us to sing. I dearly loved to go to the church, it was so solemn. I never knew rightly that I had much sin till I went there. When I found out that I was a great sinner, I was very sorely grieved, and very much frightened. I used to pray God to pardon my sins for Christ's sake, and forgive me for every thing I had done amiss; and when I went home to my work, I always thought about what I had heard from the missionaries, and wished to be good that I might go to heaven. After a while I was admitted a candidate for the holy Communion.—I had been baptized long before this, in August 1817, by the Rev. Mr. Curtin, of the English Church, after I had been taught to repeat the Creed and the Lord's Prayer. I wished at that time to attend a Sunday School taught by Mr. Curtin, but he would not receive me without a written note from my master, granting his permission. I did not ask my owner's permission, from the belief that it would be refused; so that I got no farther instruction at that time from the English Church.¹²

The Moravian ladies (Mrs. Richter, Mrs. Olufsen, and Mrs. Sauter) taught me to read in class. I learned very quickly. There were all sorts of people in the class, old and young, gray-haired people and children. But most of them were free people. After we finished spelling, we tried to read the Bible. After the reading, the missionary chose a hymn for us to sing. I dearly loved going to church because it was so solemn. I never truly knew how much sin I had until I went there. When I found out that I was a great sinner, I was deeply grieved and very frightened. I used to pray that God would pardon my sins for Christ's sake and forgive everything I had done wrong. When I went home to my work, I always thought about what I had heard from the missionaries. I wished to be good so that I might go to heaven. After a while, I was accepted as a candidate for holy Communion. I had been baptized long before this, in August 1817, by the Rev. Mr. Curtin of the English Church. Before my baptism, I had been taught to repeat the Creed and the Lord's Prayer. At that time, I wished to attend a Sunday School taught by Mr. Curtin. But he would not accept me without a written note from my master giving his permission. I did not ask my owner for permission because I believed he would refuse. So I received no further instruction from the English Church at that time.¹²

Some time after I began to attend the Moravian Church, I met with Daniel James, afterwards my dear husband. He was a carpenter and cooper to his trade; an honest, hard-working, decent black man, and a widower. He had purchased his freedom of his mistress, old Mrs. Baker, with money he had earned whilst a slave. When he asked me to marry him, I took time to consider the matter over with myself, and would not say yes till he went to church with me and joined the Moravians. He was very industrious after he bought his freedom; and he had hired a comfortable house, and had convenient things about him. We were joined in marriage, about Christmas 1826, in the Moravian Chapel at Spring Gardens, by the Rev. Mr. Olufsen. We could not be married in the English Church. English marriage is not allowed to slaves; and no free man can marry a slave woman.

Some time after I began attending the Moravian Church, I met Daniel James, who later became my dear husband. He was a carpenter and a cooper. He was an honest, hardworking, decent black man, and a widower. He had bought his freedom from his mistress, old Mrs. Baker, with money he had earned while enslaved. When he asked me to marry him, I took time to think it over. I would not say yes until he went to church with me and joined the Moravians. He worked very hard after buying his freedom. He had rented a comfortable house and had useful things around him. We were married around Christmas 1826, in the Moravian Chapel at Spring Gardens, by the Rev. Mr. Olufsen. We could not be married in the English Church. Slaves are not allowed to marry in the English Church, and no free man can marry an enslaved woman.

When Mr. Wood heard of my marriage, he flew into a great rage, and sent for Daniel, who was helping to build a house for his old mistress. Mr. Wood asked him who gave him a right to marry a slave of his? My husband said, "Sir, I am a free man, and thought I had a right to choose a wife; but if I had known Molly was not allowed to have a husband, I should not have asked her to marry me." Mrs. Wood was more vexed about my marriage than her husband. She could not forgive me for getting married, but stirred up Mr. Wood to flog me dreadfully with the horsewhip. I thought it very hard to be whipped at my time of life for getting a husband—I told her so. She said that she would not have nigger men about the yards and premises, or allow a nigger man's clothes to be washed in the same tub where hers were washed. She was fearful, I think, that I should lose her time, in order to wash and do things for my husband: but I had then no time to wash for myself; I was obliged to put out my own clothes, though I was always at the wash-tub.

When Mr. Wood heard about my marriage, he became furious. He sent for Daniel, who was helping to build a house for his former mistress. Mr. Wood asked Daniel who had given him the right to marry one of his slaves. My husband said, "Sir, I am a free man, and I thought I had the right to choose a wife. But if I had known Molly was not allowed to have a husband, I would not have asked her to marry me." Mrs. Wood was even more upset about my marriage than her husband. She could not forgive me for getting married. She urged Mr. Wood to whip me terribly with a horsewhip. I thought it very hard to be whipped at my age for getting a husband, and I told her so. She said she would not have nigger men around the yards and premises. Nor would she allow a nigger man's clothes to be washed in the same tub as hers. I think she was afraid I would spend time washing and doing things for my husband instead of working for her. But I had no time even to wash my own clothes then. I had to send them out to be washed, though I was always at the wash-tub.

I had not much happiness in my marriage, owing to my being a slave. It made my husband sad to see me so ill-treated. Mrs. Wood was always abusing me about him. She did not lick me herself, but she got her husband to do it for her, whilst she fretted the flesh off my bones. Yet for all this she would not sell me. She sold five slaves whilst I was with her; but though she was always finding fault with me, she would not part with me. However, Mr. Wood afterwards allowed Daniel to have a place to live in our yard, which we were very thankful for.

I was not very happy in my marriage because I was enslaved. My husband was sad to see me treated so badly. Mrs. Wood was always abusing me about him. She did not beat me herself, but she had her husband do it for her, while she worried the flesh off my bones. Yet despite all this, she would not sell me. She sold five enslaved people while I was with her. But though she was always finding fault with me, she would not part with me. Later, however, Mr. Wood allowed Daniel to have a place to live in our yard. We were very thankful for this.

After this, I fell ill again with the rheumatism, and was sick a long time; but whether sick or well, I had my work to do. About this time I asked my master and mistress to let me buy my own freedom. With the help of Mr. Burchell, I could have found the means to pay Mr. Wood; for it was agreed that I should afterwards, serve Mr. Burchell a while, for the cash he was to advance for me. I was earnest in the request to my owners; but their hearts were hard—too hard to consent. Mrs. Wood was very angry—she grew quite outrageous—she called me a black devil, and asked me who had put freedom into my head. "To be free is very sweet," I said: but she took good care to keep me a slave. I saw her change colour, and I left the room.

After this, I fell ill with rheumatism again and was sick for a long time. But whether I was sick or well, I had to do my work. Around this time, I asked my master and mistress to let me buy my freedom. With Mr. Burchell's help, I could have found the money to pay Mr. Wood. Mr. Burchell and I had agreed that I would work for him for a while afterward, in return for the money he would lend me. I pleaded with my owners, but their hearts were hard, too hard to agree. Mrs. Wood was very angry. She became furious and called me a black devil. She asked who had put freedom into my head. "To be free is very sweet," I said. But she made sure to keep me a slave. I saw her face change color, and I left the room.

About this time my master and mistress were going to England to put their son to school, and bring their daughters home; and they took me with them to take care of the child. I was willing to come to England: I thought that by going there I should probably get cured of my rheumatism, and should return with my master and mistress, quite well, to my husband. My husband was willing for me to come away, for he had heard that my master would free me,—and I also hoped this might prove true; but it was all a false report.

Around this time, my master and mistress were going to England to send their son to school and bring their daughters home. They took me with them to care for the child. I was willing to go to England. I thought I would probably be cured of my rheumatism there. Then I would return with my master and mistress to my husband, completely well. My husband was willing for me to go because he had heard that my master would free me. I also hoped the report might be true, but it was entirely false.

The steward of the ship was very kind to me. He and my husband were in the same class in the Moravian Church. I was thankful that he was so friendly, for my mistress was not kind to me on the passage; and she told me, when she was angry, that she did not intend to treat me any better in England than in the West Indies—that I need not expect it. And she was as good as her word.

The ship’s steward was very kind to me. He and my husband were in the same class at the Moravian Church. I was thankful for his friendliness because my mistress was not kind to me during the voyage. When she was angry, she told me not to expect better treatment in England than in the West Indies. And she kept her word.

When we drew near to England, the rheumatism seized all my limbs worse than ever, and my body was dreadfully swelled. When we landed at the Tower, I shewed my flesh to my mistress, but she took no great notice of it. We were obliged to stop at the tavern till my master got a house; and a day or two after, my mistress sent me down into the wash-house to learn to wash in the English way. In the West Indies we wash with cold water—in England with hot. I told my mistress I was afraid that putting my hands first into the hot water and then into the cold, would increase the pain in my limbs. The doctor had told my mistress long before I came from the West Indies, that I was a sickly body and the washing did not agree with me. But Mrs. Wood would not release me from the tub, so I was forced to do as I could. I grew worse, and could not stand to wash. I was then forced to sit down with the tub before me, and often through pain and weakness was reduced to kneel or to sit down on the floor, to finish my task. When I complained to my mistress of this, she only got into a passion as usual, and said washing in hot water could not hurt any one;—that I was lazy and insolent, and wanted to be free of my work; but that she would make me do it. I thought her very hard on me, and my heart rose up within me. However I kept still at that time, and went down again to wash the child's things; but the English washerwomen who were at work there, when they saw that I was so ill, had pity upon me and washed them for me.

As we drew near to England, rheumatism seized all my limbs more severely than ever, and my body was terribly swollen. When we landed at the Tower, I showed my mistress my swollen flesh, but she paid little attention. We had to stay at the tavern until my master found a house. A day or two later, my mistress sent me down to the wash-house to learn to wash the English way. In the West Indies we wash with cold water. In England people wash with hot water. I told my mistress I was afraid that putting my hands first in hot water, then in cold, would make the pain in my limbs worse. Long before I left the West Indies, the doctor had told my mistress that I was sickly and that washing was bad for me. But Mrs. Wood would not let me leave the tub, so I had to do the best I could. I grew worse and could not stand to wash. So I had to sit with the tub in front of me. Often, pain and weakness forced me to kneel or sit on the floor to finish my work. When I complained to my mistress, she simply flew into a rage as usual. She said washing in hot water could not hurt anyone. She said I was lazy and insolent and wanted to get out of my work, but she would make me do it. I thought she was very hard on me, and my heart rose up within me. Still, I kept quiet at the time and went down again to wash the child's things. But the English washerwomen working there saw how ill I was. They took pity on me and washed the things for me.

After that, when we came up to live in Leigh Street, Mrs. Wood sorted out five bags of clothes which we had used at sea, and also such as had been worn since we came on shore, for me and the cook to wash. Elizabeth the cook told her, that she did not think that I was able to stand to the tub, and that she had better hire a woman. I also said myself, that I had come over to nurse the child, and that I was sorry I had come from Antigua, since mistress would work me so hard, without compassion for my rheumatism. Mr. and Mrs. Wood, when they heard this, rose up in a passion against me. They opened the door and bade me get out. But I was a stranger, and did not know one door in the street from another, and was unwilling to go away. They made a dreadful uproar, and from that day they constantly kept cursing and abusing me. I was obliged to wash, though I was very ill. Mrs. Wood, indeed once hired a washerwoman, but she was not well treated, and would come no more.

After that, we moved to Leigh Street. Mrs. Wood sorted out five bags of clothes for the cook and me to wash. We had worn some at sea and some since coming ashore. Elizabeth the cook told Mrs. Wood that she did not think I was able to stand at the washing tub. She said Mrs. Wood should hire a woman instead. I also said that I had come over to nurse the child. I was sorry I had come from Antigua, since my mistress worked me so hard without compassion for my rheumatism. When Mr. and Mrs. Wood heard this, they became furious with me. They opened the door and told me to get out. But I was a stranger and could not tell one door in the street from another. I did not want to leave. They made a dreadful uproar, and from that day on they constantly cursed and abused me. I had to wash the clothes, though I was very ill. Mrs. Wood did hire a washerwoman once, but she was not treated well and would not come back.

My master quarrelled with me another time, about one of our great washings, his wife having stirred him up to do so. He said he would compel me to do the whole of the washing given out to me, or if I again refused, he would take a short course with me: he would either send me down to the brig in the river, to carry me back to Antigua, or he would turn me at once out of doors, and let me provide for myself. I said I would willingly go back, if he would let me purchase my own freedom. But this enraged him more than all the rest: he cursed and swore at me dreadfully, and said he would never sell my freedom—if I wished to be free, I was free in England, and I might go and try what freedom would do for me, and be d——d. My heart was very sore with this treatment, but I had to go on. I continued to do my work, and did all I could to give satisfaction, but all would not do.

Another time, my master quarreled with me about one of our large washings. His wife had stirred him up to do it. He said he would force me to do all the washing assigned to me. If I refused again, he would deal with me quickly. He would either send me to the brig in the river to take me back to Antigua, or turn me out at once and let me fend for myself. I said I would willingly go back if he would let me buy my freedom. But this made him angrier than anything else. He cursed and swore at me terribly and said he would never sell me my freedom. He said that if I wanted to be free, I was free in England. I could go and see what freedom would do for me, and be damned. My heart ached from this treatment, but I had to carry on. I kept working and did all I could to satisfy them, but nothing was enough.

Shortly after, the cook left them, and then matters went on ten times worse. I always washed the child's clothes without being commanded to do it, and any thing else that was wanted in the family; though still I was very sick—very sick indeed. When the great washing came round, which was every two months, my mistress got together again a great many heavy things, such as bed-ticks, bed-coverlets, &c. for me to wash. I told her I was too ill to wash such heavy things that day. She said, she supposed I thought myself a free woman, but I was not; and if I did not do it directly I should be instantly turned out of doors. I stood a long time before I could answer, for I did not know well what to do. I knew that I was free in England, but I did not know where to go, or how to get my living; and therefore, I did not like to leave the house. But Mr. Wood said he would send for a constable to thrust me out; and at last I took courage and resolved that I would not be longer thus treated, but would go and trust to Providence. This was the fourth time they had threatened turn me out, and, go where I might, I was determined now to take them at their word; though I thought it very hard, after I had lived with them for thirteen years, and worked for them like a horse, to be driven out in this way, like a beggar. My only fault was being sick, and therefore unable to please my mistress, who thought she never could get work enough out of her slaves; and I told them so: but they only abused me and drove me out. This took place from two to three months, I think, after we came to England.

Shortly afterward, the cook left them, and things became ten times worse. I always washed the child's clothes without being told, and did whatever else the family needed. Yet I was still very sick, very sick indeed. The big wash came every two months. When it came, my mistress gathered many heavy things for me to wash, such as mattress covers and bedspreads. I told her I was too ill to wash such heavy things that day. She said she supposed I thought I was a free woman, but I was not. She said that if I did not wash them at once, I would be turned out of the house immediately. I stood there a long time before I could answer, because I did not know what to do. I knew I was free in England, but I did not know where to go or how to earn a living. So I did not want to leave the house. But Mr. Wood said he would send for a constable to force me out. At last I took courage and decided I would no longer be treated this way. I would leave and trust in Providence. This was the fourth time they had threatened to turn me out. Wherever I might go, I was now determined to take them at their word. Still, I thought it very hard to be driven out like a beggar. I had lived with them for thirteen years and worked for them like a horse. My only fault was being sick and therefore unable to please my mistress. She thought she could never get enough work out of her slaves. I told them so, but they only abused me and drove me out. This happened, I think, two to three months after we came to England.

When I came away, I went to the man (one Mash) who used to black the shoes of the family, and asked his wife to get somebody to go with me to Hatton Garden to the Moravian Missionaries: these were the only persons I knew in England. The woman sent a young girl with me to the mission house, and I saw there a gentleman called Mr. Moore. I told him my whole story, and how my owners had treated me, and asked him to take in my trunk with what few clothes I had. The missionaries were very kind to me—they were sorry for my destitute situation, and gave me leave to bring my things to be placed under their care. They were very good people, and they told me to come to the church.

When I left, I went to a man named Mash, who used to polish the family's shoes. I asked his wife to find someone to go with me to the Moravian Missionaries in Hatton Garden. They were the only people I knew in England. She sent a young girl with me to the mission house, where I met a gentleman named Mr. Moore. I told him my whole story and how my owners had treated me. I asked him to take in my trunk, which held the few clothes I had. The missionaries were very kind to me. They were sorry that I had been left with nothing and let me bring my things for them to look after. They were very good people, and they told me to come to church.

When I went back to Mr. Wood's to get my trunk, I saw a lady, Mrs. Pell, who was on a visit to my mistress. When Mr. and Mrs. Wood heard me come in, they set this lady to stop me, finding that they had gone too far with me. Mrs. Pell came out to me, and said, "Are you really going to leave, Molly? Don't leave, but come into the country with me." I believe she said this because she thought Mrs. Wood would easily get me back again. I replied to her, "Ma'am, this is the fourth time my master and mistress have driven me out, or threatened to drive me—and I will give them no more occasion to bid me go. I was not willing to leave them, for I am a stranger in this country, but now I must go—I can stay no longer to be so used." Mrs. Pell then went up stairs to my mistress, and told that I would go, and that she could not stop me. Mrs. Wood was very much hurt and frightened when she found I was determined to go out that day. She said, "If she goes the people will rob her, and then turn her adrift." She did not say this to me, but she spoke it loud enough for me to hear; that it might induce me not to go, I suppose. Mr. Wood also asked me where I was going to. I told him where I had been, and that I should never have gone away had I not been driven out by my owners. He had given me a written paper some time before, which said that I had come with them to England by my own desire; and that was true. It said also that I left them of my own free will, because I was a free woman in England; and that I was idle and would not do my work—which was not true. I gave this paper afterwards to a gentleman who inquired into my case.¹³

When I went back to Mr. Wood's to get my trunk, I saw a lady named Mrs. Pell. She was visiting my mistress. When Mr. and Mrs. Wood heard me come in, they realized they had gone too far with me. They sent Mrs. Pell to stop me. She came out to me and said, "Are you really going to leave, Molly? Don't leave. Come into the country with me instead." I believe she said this because she thought Mrs. Wood could easily get me back. I replied, "Ma'am, this is the fourth time my master and mistress have driven me out or threatened to do so. I will give them no more reason to tell me to go. I did not want to leave them, because I am a stranger in this country. But now I must go. I can no longer stay and be treated this way." Mrs. Pell then went upstairs to my mistress. She told her that I would go and that she could not stop me. Mrs. Wood was very upset and frightened when she found I was determined to leave that day. She said, "If she goes, the people will rob her and then turn her out." She did not say this to me, but she spoke loudly enough for me to hear. I suppose she hoped it would persuade me not to go. Mr. Wood also asked me where I was going. I told him where I had been. I also told him I would never have left if my owners had not driven me out. Some time before, he had given me a written paper. It said that I had come with them to England because I wanted to, and that was true. It also said that I left them of my own free will because I was a free woman in England. It said I was lazy and would not do my work, which was not true. I later gave this paper to a gentleman who was investigating my case.¹³

I went into the kitchen and got my clothes out. The nurse and the servant girl were there, and I said to the man who was going to take out my trunk, "Stop, before you take up this trunk, and hear what I have to say before these people. I am going out of this house, as I was ordered; but I have done no wrong at all to my owners, neither here nor in the West Indies. I always worked very hard to please them, both by night and day; but there was no giving satisfaction, for my mistress could never be satisfied with reasonable service. I told my mistress I was sick, and yet she has ordered me out of doors. This is the fourth time; and now I am going out."

I went into the kitchen and got my clothes out. The nurse and the servant girl were there. I spoke to the man who was going to carry out my trunk. I said, "Wait before you pick up this trunk. Listen to what I have to say in front of these people. I am leaving this house, as I was ordered to do. But I have done no wrong at all to my owners, either here or in the West Indies. I always worked very hard, night and day, to please them. But I could not satisfy them, because my mistress was never satisfied with reasonable service. I told my mistress I was sick, yet she has ordered me out of the house. This is the fourth time she has ordered me out, and now I am leaving."

And so I came out, and went and carried my trunk to the Moravians. I then returned back to Mash the shoe-black's house, and begged his wife to take me in. I had a little West Indian money in my trunk; and they got it changed for me. This helped to support me for a little while. The man's wife was very kind to me. I was very sick, and she boiled nourishing things up for me. She also sent for a doctor to see me, and he sent me medicine, which did me good, though I was ill for a long time with the rheumatic pains. I lived a good many months with these poor people, and they nursed me, and did all that lay in their power to serve me. The man was well acquainted with my situation, as he used to go to and fro to Mr. Wood's house to clean shoes and knives; and he and his wife were sorry for me.

So I left and took my trunk to the Moravians. Then I returned to the house of Mash, the shoe shiner, and begged his wife to take me in. I had a little West Indian money in my trunk, and they exchanged it for me. The money helped support me for a little while. Mash's wife was very kind to me. I was very sick, and she boiled nourishing food for me. She also sent for a doctor, who came to see me and sent me medicine. The medicine helped me, though I suffered from rheumatic pains for a long time. I lived with these poor people for many months. They nursed me and did everything they could to help me. Mash knew my situation well because he used to go to Mr. Wood's house to clean shoes and knives. He and his wife felt sorry for me.

About this time, a woman of the name of Hill told me of the Anti-Slavery Society, and went with me to their office, to inquire if they could do any thing to get me my freedom, and send me back to the West Indies. The gentlemen of the Society took me to a lawyer, who examined very strictly into my case; but told me that the laws of England could do nothing to make me free in Antigua¹⁴. However they did all they could for me: they gave me a little money from time to time to keep me from want; and some of them went to Mr. Wood to try to persuade him to let me return a free woman to my husband; but though they offered him, as I have heard, a large sum for my freedom, he was sulky and obstinate, and would not consent to let me go free.

Around this time, a woman named Hill told me about the Anti-Slavery Society. She went with me to its office to ask if the Society could help me gain my freedom and return to the West Indies. The gentlemen of the Society took me to a lawyer, who examined my case very carefully. But he told me that English law could do nothing to make me free in Antigua¹⁴. Still, the Society did all it could for me. Its members gave me a little money from time to time to keep me from going without necessities. Some of them went to Mr. Wood to try to persuade him to let me return to my husband as a free woman. I heard that they offered him a large sum for my freedom. But he was sulky and stubborn, and though they made this offer, he would not agree to set me free.

This was the first winter I spent in England, and I suffered much from the severe cold, and from the rheumatic pains, which still at times torment me. However, Providence was very good to me, and I got many friends—especially some Quaker ladies, who hearing of my case, came and sought me out, and gave me good warm clothing and money. Thus I had great cause to bless God in my affliction.

This was my first winter in England. I suffered greatly from the severe cold and from rheumatic pain that still torments me at times. But Providence was very good to me, and I made many friends. Some Quaker ladies, in particular, heard about my situation and came looking for me. They gave me warm clothing and money. So I had great reason to thank God in my suffering.

When I got better I was anxious to get some work to do, as I was unwilling to eat the bread of idleness. Mrs. Mash, who was a laundress, recommended me to a lady for a charwoman. She paid me very handsomely for what work I did, and I divided the money with Mrs. Mash; for though very poor, they gave me food when my own money was done, and never suffered me to want.

When I got better, I was eager to find work because I did not want to live without working. Mrs. Mash, who worked as a laundress, recommended me to a lady who needed a cleaning woman. The lady paid me very well for my work, and I shared the money with Mrs. Mash. Although Mrs. Mash and her family were very poor, they gave me food when my own money ran out. They never let me go without.

In the spring, I got into service with a lady, who saw me at the house where I sometimes worked as a charwoman. This lady's name was Mrs. Forsyth. She had been in the West Indies, and was accustomed to Blacks, and liked them. I was with her six months, and went with her to Margate. She treated me well, and gave me a good character when she left London.¹⁵

In the spring, I found work as a servant for a lady. She had seen me at a house where I sometimes worked as a cleaner. Her name was Mrs. Forsyth. She had been in the West Indies and was used to Black people and liked them. I worked for her for six months and went with her to Margate. She treated me well and gave me a good reference when she left London.¹⁵

After Mrs. Forsyth went away, I was again out of place, and went to lodgings, for which I paid two shillings a week, and found coals and candle. After eleven weeks, the money I had saved in service was all gone, and I was forced to go back to the Anti-Slavery office to ask a supply, till I could get another situation. I did not like to go back—I did not like to be idle. I would rather work for my living than get it for nothing. They were very good to give me a supply, but I felt shame at being obliged to apply for relief whilst I had strength to work.

After Mrs. Forsyth left, I was out of work again and moved into lodgings. I paid two shillings a week for the room and bought my own coal and candles. After eleven weeks, all the money I had saved while working was gone. I had to go back to the Anti-Slavery office and ask for help until I could find another job. I did not like going back. I did not like being idle. I would rather work for my living than get it for nothing. The people at the office were very kind to give me help. But I felt ashamed to ask for relief while I still had the strength to work.

At last I went into the service of Mr. and Mrs. Pringle, where I have been ever since, and am as comfortable as I can be while separated from my dear husband, and away from my own country and all old friends and connections. My dear mistress teaches me daily to read the word of God, and takes great pains to make me understand it. I enjoy the great privilege of being enabled to attend church three times on the Sunday; and I have met with many kind friends since I have been here, both clergymen and others. The Rev. Mr. Young, who lives in the next house, has shown me much kindness, and taken much pains to instruct me, particularly while my master and mistress were absent in Scotland. Nor must I forget, among my friends, the Rev. Mr. Mortimer, the good clergyman of the parish, under whose ministry I have now sat for upwards of twelve months. I trust in God I have profited by what I have heard from him. He never keeps back the truth, and I think he has been the means of opening my eyes and ears much better to understand the word of God. Mr. Mortimer tells me that he cannot open the eyes of my heart, but that I must pray to God to change my heart, and make me to know the truth, and the truth will make me free.

At last, I entered the service of Mr. and Mrs. Pringle, and I have been there ever since. I am as comfortable as I can be while separated from my dear husband and away from my own country and all my old friends and connections. My dear mistress teaches me to read the word of God every day. She takes great care to help me understand it. I have the great privilege of being able to attend church three times on Sundays. Since I have been here, I have met many kind friends, both clergymen and others. The Rev. Mr. Young, who lives next door, has shown me great kindness. He has taken great care to teach me, especially while my master and mistress were away in Scotland. I must also remember my friend the Rev. Mr. Mortimer, the good clergyman of the parish. I have now listened to his preaching for more than twelve months. I trust in God that I have benefited from what I have heard from him. He never holds back the truth. I think he has helped open my eyes and ears to understand the word of God much better. Mr. Mortimer tells me that he cannot open the eyes of my heart. He says I must pray to God to change my heart and help me know the truth. The truth will make me free.

I still live in the hope that God will find a way to give me my liberty, and give me back to my husband. I endeavour to keep down my fretting, and to leave all to Him, for he knows what is good for me better than I know myself. Yet, I must confess, I find it a hard and heavy task to do so.

I still hope that God will find a way to set me free and return me to my husband. I try not to worry and to leave everything to him, because he knows what is good for me better than I do. Yet I must admit that I find this very hard to do.

I am often much vexed, and I feel great sorrow when I hear some people in this country say, that the slaves do not need better usage, and do not want to be free.¹⁶ They believe the foreign people,¹⁷ who deceive them, and say slaves are happy. I say, Not so. How can slaves be happy when they have the halter round their neck and the whip upon their back? and are disgraced and thought no more of than beasts?—and are separated from their mothers, and husbands, and children, and sisters, just as cattle are sold and separated? Is it happiness for a driver in the field to take down his wife or sister or child, and strip them, and whip them in such a disgraceful manner?—women that have had children exposed in the open field to shame! There is no modesty or decency shown by the owner to his slaves; men, women, and children are exposed alike. Since I have been here I have often wondered how English people can go out into the West Indies and act in such a beastly manner. But when they go to the West Indies, they forget God and all feeling of shame, I think, since they can see and do such things. They tie up slaves like hogs—moor¹⁸ them up like cattle, and they lick them, so as hogs, or cattle, or horses never were flogged;—and yet they come home and say, and make some good people believe, that slaves don't want to get out of slavery. But they put a cloak about the truth. It is not so. All slaves want to be free—to be free is very sweet. I will say the truth to English people who may read this history that my good friend, Miss S——, is now writing down for me. I have been a slave myself—I know what slaves feel—I can tell by myself what other slaves feel, and by what they have told me. The man that says slaves be quite happy in slavery—that they don't want to be free—that man is either ignorant or a lying person. I never heard a slave say so. I never heard a Buckra man say so, till I heard tell of it in England. Such people ought to be ashamed of themselves. They can't do without slaves, they say. What's the reason they can't do without slaves as well as in England? No slaves here—no whips—no stocks—no punishment, except for wicked people. They hire servants in England; and if they don't like them, they send them away: they can't lick them. Let them work ever so hard in England, they are far better off than slaves. If they get a bad master, they give warning and go hire to another. They have their liberty. That's just what we want. We don't mind hard work, if we had proper treatment, and proper wages like English servants, and proper time given in the week to keep us from breaking the Sabbath. But they won't give it: they will have work—work—work, night and day, sick or well, till we are quite done up; and we must not speak up nor look amiss, however much we be abused. And then when we are quite done up, who cares for us, more than for a lame horse? This is slavery. I tell it, to let English people know the truth; and I hope they will never leave off to pray God, and call loud to the great King of England, till all the poor blacks be given free, and slavery done up for evermore.

I am often upset and deeply saddened when I hear some people in this country say that slaves do not need better treatment and do not want to be free.¹⁶ They believe the foreign people,¹⁷ who deceive them by saying slaves are happy. I say that is not true. How can slaves be happy with a halter around their necks and a whip on their backs? They are shamed and thought no better than beasts. They are separated from their mothers, husbands, children, and sisters, just as cattle are sold and separated. Is it happiness when a field driver takes his wife, sister, or child, strips them, and whips them so shamefully? Women who have had children are exposed to shame in the open field! Owners show their slaves no modesty or decency. Men, women, and children are all exposed. Since I have been here, I have often wondered how English people can go to the West Indies and behave so brutally. I think they forget God and all sense of shame when they go there, since they can see and do such things. They tie up slaves like hogs and tether¹⁸ them like cattle. They beat them more severely than hogs, cattle, or horses have ever been flogged. Yet they come home and say that slaves do not want to escape slavery. They make some good people believe it. But they cover up the truth. It is not so. All slaves want to be free. To be free is very sweet. I will tell the truth to the English people who may read this history. My good friend, Miss S——, is writing it down for me now. I have been a slave myself. I know what slaves feel. I can tell what other slaves feel from my own experience and from what they have told me. A man who says slaves are quite happy in slavery and do not want to be free is either ignorant or a liar. I never heard a slave say so. I never heard a Buckra man say so until I heard of it in England. Such people ought to be ashamed of themselves. They say they cannot do without slaves. Why can they not do without slaves, as people do in England? There are no slaves here, no whips, no stocks, and no punishment except for wicked people. People in England hire servants, and if they do not like them, they send them away. They cannot beat them. No matter how hard servants work in England, they are far better off than slaves. If they get a bad master, they give notice and go to work for another. They have their freedom. That is just what we want. We do not mind hard work if we receive proper treatment and proper wages like English servants. We also want enough time during the week to keep us from breaking the Sabbath. But they will not give us that. They demand work, work, work, night and day, whether we are sick or well, until we are completely worn out. We must not speak up or look displeased, however badly we are abused. And then, when we are completely worn out, who cares for us any more than for a lame horse? This is slavery. I tell it so that English people will know the truth. I hope they will never stop praying to God and calling loudly on the great King of England until all the poor blacks are set free and slavery is ended forever.