Chapter 9
THE HOT SUN—YET BOUND—THE CORDS SINK INTO MY FLESH—CHAPIN'S UNEASINESS—SPECULATION—RACHEL, AND HER CUP OF WATER—SUFFERING INCREASES—THE HAPPINESS OF SLAVERY—ARRIVAL OF FORD—HE CUTS THE CORDS WHICH BIND ME, AND TAKES THE ROPE FROM MY NECK—MISERY—THE GATHERING OF THE SLAVES IN ELIZA'S CABIN—THEIR KINDNESS—RACHEL REPEATS THE OCCURRENCES OF THE DAY—LAWSON ENTERTAINS HIS COMPANIONS WITH AN ACCOUNT OF HIS RIDE—CHAPIN'S APPREHENSIONS OF TIBEATS—HIRED TO PETER TANNER—PETER EXPOUNDS THE SCRIPTURES—DESCRIPTION OF THE STOCKS.
THE HOT SUN. STILL BOUND. THE CORDS CUT INTO MY FLESH. CHAPIN'S UNEASINESS. SPECULATION. RACHEL AND HER CUP OF WATER. MY SUFFERING INCREASES. THE HAPPINESS OF SLAVERY. FORD ARRIVES. HE CUTS THE CORDS BINDING ME AND TAKES THE ROPE FROM MY NECK. MISERY. THE SLAVES GATHER IN ELIZA'S CABIN. THEIR KINDNESS. RACHEL RETELLS THE DAY'S EVENTS. LAWSON ENTERTAINS HIS COMPANIONS WITH AN ACCOUNT OF HIS RIDE. CHAPIN'S FEARS ABOUT TIBEATS. HIRED OUT TO PETER TANNER. PETER EXPLAINS THE SCRIPTURES. A DESCRIPTION OF THE STOCKS.
As the sun approached the meridian that day it became insufferably warm. Its hot rays scorched the ground. The earth almost blistered the foot that stood upon it. I was without coat or hat, standing bare-headed, exposed to its burning blaze. Great drops of perspiration rolled down my face, drenching the scanty apparel wherewith I was clothed. Over the fence, a very little way off, the peach trees cast their cool, delicious shadows on the grass. I would gladly have given a long year of service to have been enabled to exchange the heated oven, as it were, wherein I stood, for a seat beneath their branches. But I was yet bound, the rope still dangling from my neck, and standing in the same tracks where Tibeats and his comrades left me. I could not move an inch, so firmly had I been bound. To have been enabled to lean against the weaving house would have been a luxury indeed. But it was far beyond my reach, though distant less than twenty feet. I wanted to lie down, but knew I could not rise again. The ground was so parched and boiling hot I was aware it would but add to the discomfort of my situation. If I could have only moved my position, however slightly, it would have been relief unspeakable. But the hot rays of a southern sun, beating all the long summer day on my bare head, produced not half the suffering I experienced from my aching limbs. My wrists and ankles, and the cords of my legs and arms began to swell, burying the rope that bound them into the swollen flesh.
As the sun approached noon that day, the heat became unbearable. Its hot rays scorched the ground. The earth was almost hot enough to blister my feet. I had no coat or hat, and stood bareheaded under the blazing sun. Great drops of sweat rolled down my face, soaking the little clothing I wore. Just beyond the fence, peach trees cast cool, delicious shadows on the grass. I would gladly have given a long year of service to leave the place where I stood. It was like a heated oven, and I longed to sit beneath those branches instead. But I was still bound, with the rope dangling from my neck. I stood in the same spot where Tibeats and his comrades had left me. I was tied so tightly that I could not move an inch. It would have been a luxury to lean against the weaving house. But it was far beyond my reach, though less than twenty feet away. I wanted to lie down, but I knew I could not get up again. The ground was so dry and boiling hot that lying down would only make me more uncomfortable. If I could have moved even slightly, it would have brought unspeakable relief. But the hot rays of the southern sun beat on my bare head all that long summer day. Even so, they caused less than half the suffering I felt from my aching limbs. My wrists and ankles, and the muscles and tendons in my legs and arms, began to swell. The swelling buried the rope in my flesh.
All day Chapin walked back and forth upon the stoop, but not once approached me. He appeared to be in a state of great uneasiness, looking first towards me, and then up the road, as if expecting some arrival every moment. He did not go to the field, as was his custom. It was evident from his manner that he supposed Tibeats would return with more and better armed assistance, perhaps, to renew the quarrel, and it was equally evident he had prepared his mind to defend my life at whatever hazard. Why he did not relieve me—why he suffered me to remain in agony the whole weary day, I never knew. It was not for want of sympathy, I am certain. Perhaps he wished Ford to see the rope about my neck, and the brutal manner in which I had been bound; perhaps his interference with another's property in which he had no legal interest might have been a trespass, which would have subjected him to the penalty of the law. Why Tibeats was all day absent was another mystery I never could divine. He knew well enough that Chapin would not harm him unless he persisted in his design against me. Lawson told me afterwards, that, as he passed the plantation of John David Cheney, he saw the three, and that they turned and looked after him as he flew by. I think his supposition was, that Lawson had been sent out by Overseer Chapin to arouse the neighboring planters, and to call on them to come to his assistance. He, therefore, undoubtedly, acted on the principle, that "discretion is the better part of valor," and kept away.
All day, Chapin walked back and forth on the stoop, but he never once came near me. He seemed very uneasy, looking first at me and then up the road, as if expecting someone at any moment. He did not go to the field, as he usually did. From his manner, it was clear that he expected Tibeats to return with more men, perhaps better armed, to renew the quarrel. It was equally clear that Chapin had made up his mind to defend my life, whatever the risk. I never knew why he did not help me or why he left me in agony all that weary day. I am certain it was not because he lacked sympathy. Perhaps he wanted Ford to see the rope around my neck and the brutal way I had been tied. Perhaps, by interfering with another man's property in which he had no legal interest, he would have been trespassing and subject to a legal penalty. Why Tibeats stayed away all day was another mystery I could never solve. He knew well enough that Chapin would not harm him unless he continued trying to harm me. Lawson later told me that he saw the three men as he passed John David Cheney's plantation. They turned and looked after him as he flew by. I think Tibeats supposed that Overseer Chapin had sent Lawson to alert the neighboring planters and call them to his assistance. So Tibeats undoubtedly acted on the principle that "discretion is the better part of valor," and stayed away.
But whatever motive may have governed the cowardly and malignant tyrant, it is of no importance. There I still stood in the noon-tide sun, groaning with pain. From long before daylight I had not eaten a morsel. I was growing faint from pain, and thirst, and hunger. Once only, in the very hottest portion of the day, Rachel, half fearful she was acting contrary to the overseer's wishes, ventured to me, and held a cup of water to my lips. The humble creature never knew, nor could she comprehend if she had heard them, the blessings I invoked upon her, for that balmy draught. She could only say, "Oh, Platt, how I do pity you," and then hastened back to her labors in the kitchen.
But whatever motive may have guided the cowardly and cruel tyrant, it does not matter. I still stood there in the midday sun, groaning with pain. I had not eaten a morsel since long before daylight. I was growing faint from pain, thirst, and hunger. Only once, during the hottest part of the day, did Rachel venture over to me. She feared she might be acting against the overseer's wishes, but she held a cup of water to my lips. That humble woman never knew the blessings I called down upon her for that soothing drink. Even if she had heard them, she could not have understood them. She could only say, "Oh, Platt, how I do pity you," and then hurry back to her work in the kitchen.
Never did the sun move so slowly through the heavens—never did it shower down such fervent and fiery rays, as it did that day. At least, so it appeared to me. What my meditations were—the innumerable thoughts that thronged through my distracted brain—I will not attempt to give expression to. Suffice it to say, during the whole long day I came not to the conclusion, even once, that the southern slave, fed, clothed, whipped and protected by his master, is happier than the free colored citizen of the North. To that conclusion I have never since arrived. There are many, however, even in the Northern States, benevolent and well-disposed men, who will pronounce my opinion erroneous, and gravely proceed to substantiate the assertion with an argument. Alas! they have never drunk, as I have, from the bitter cup of slavery. Just at sunset my heart leaped with unbounded joy, as Ford came riding into the yard, his horse covered with foam. Chapin met him at the door, and after conversing a short time, he walked directly to me.
Never had the sun moved so slowly across the sky or poured down such scorching rays as it did that day. At least, that is how it seemed to me. I will not attempt to express the countless thoughts that crowded my troubled mind. It is enough to say that, throughout that long day, I never once reached a certain conclusion. I never concluded that the southern slave, fed, clothed, whipped, and protected by his master, is happier than the free colored citizen of the North. I have never reached that conclusion since. Yet many kind and well-meaning men, even in the Northern States, will say my opinion is wrong. They will then solemnly offer arguments to support their claim. Alas, they have never drunk from the bitter cup of slavery, as I have. Just at sunset, my heart leaped with boundless joy as Ford rode into the yard, his horse covered with foam. Chapin met him at the door. After they spoke briefly, Ford walked straight over to me.
"Poor Platt, you are in a bad state," was the only expression that escaped his lips.
"Poor Platt, you are in a bad state," was all he said.
"Thank God!" said I, "thank God, Master Ford, that you have come at last."
"Thank God!" I said. "Thank God, Master Ford, that you've finally come."
Drawing a knife from his pocket, he indignantly cut the cord from my wrists, arms, and ankles, and slipped the noose from my neck. I attempted to walk, but staggered like a drunken man, and fell partially to the ground.
He pulled a knife from his pocket and angrily cut the cord from my wrists, arms, and ankles. Then he slipped the noose from my neck. I tried to walk, but I staggered like a drunk man and partly fell to the ground.
Ford returned immediately to the house, leaving me alone again. As he reached the piazza, Tibeats and his two friends rode up. A long dialogue followed. I could hear the sound of their voices, the mild tones of Ford mingling with the angry accents of Tibeats, but was unable to distinguish what was said. Finally the three departed again, apparently not well pleased.
Ford immediately returned to the house, leaving me alone again. As he reached the porch, Tibeats and his two friends rode up. They talked for a long time. I could hear Ford’s mild tones mixed with Tibeats’s angry voice, but I could not make out their words. Finally, the three rode away again, apparently not very pleased.
I endeavored to raise the hammer, thinking to show Ford how willing I was to work, by proceeding with my labors on the weaving house, but it fell from my nerveless hand. At dark I crawled into the cabin, and laid down. I was in great misery—all sore and swollen—the slightest movement producing excruciating suffering. Soon the hands came in from the field. Rachel, when she went after Lawson, had told them what had happened. Eliza and Mary broiled me a piece of bacon, but my appetite was gone. Then they scorched some corn meal and made coffee. It was all that I could take. Eliza consoled me and was very kind. It was not long before the cabin was full of slaves. They gathered round me, asking many questions about the difficulty with Tibeats in the morning—and the particulars of all the occurrences of the day. Then Rachel came in, and in her simple language, repeated it over again—dwelling emphatically on the kick that sent Tibeats rolling over on the ground—whereupon there was a general titter throughout the crowd. Then she described how Chapin walked out with his pistols and rescued me, and how Master Ford cut the ropes with his knife, just as if he was mad.
I tried to lift the hammer and continue working on the weaving house, hoping to show Ford how willing I was to work. But it fell from my weakened hand. At dark, I crawled into the cabin and lay down. I was in great misery, sore and swollen all over. The slightest movement caused excruciating pain. Soon the hands came in from the field. Rachel had told them what had happened when she went after Lawson. Eliza and Mary broiled me a piece of bacon, but I had lost my appetite. Then they toasted some cornmeal and made coffee. It was all I could take. Eliza comforted me and was very kind. Before long, the cabin was full of slaves. They gathered around me, asking many questions about the trouble with Tibeats that morning and everything that had happened that day. Then Rachel came in and told the story again in her simple language. She put special emphasis on the kick that sent Tibeats rolling on the ground, and the whole crowd began to titter. Then she described how Chapin walked out with his pistols and rescued me. She also described how Master Ford cut the ropes with his knife, just as if he were mad.
By this time Lawson had returned. He had to regale them with an account of his trip to the Pine Woods—how the brown mule bore him faster than a "streak o'lightnin"—how he astonished everybody as he flew along—how Master Ford started right away—how he said Platt was a good nigger, and they shouldn't kill him, concluding with pretty strong intimations that there was not another human being in the wide world, who could have created such a universal sensation on the road, or performed such a marvelous John Gilpin feat, as he had done that day on the brown mule.
By this time, Lawson had returned. He had to entertain them with the story of his trip to the Pine Woods. He told them how the brown mule carried him faster than a "streak of lightning" and how he amazed everyone as he flew along. He told them how Master Ford set off right away. Master Ford had said Platt was a good nigger and they shouldn't kill him. Lawson ended by strongly suggesting that no one else in the whole world could have caused such a stir along the road. Nor could anyone else have performed such a marvelous John Gilpin feat as he had that day on the brown mule.
The kind creatures loaded me with the expression of their sympathy—saying, Tibeats was a hard, cruel man, and hoping "Massa Ford" would get me back again. In this manner they passed the time, discussing, chatting, talking over and over again the exciting affair, until suddenly Chapin presented himself at the cabin door and called me.
The kind people showered me with sympathy. They said Tibeats was a hard, cruel man and hoped "Massa Ford" would get me back again. They passed the time chatting and talking over the exciting affair again and again. Suddenly, Chapin appeared at the cabin door and called me.
"Platt," said he, "you will sleep on the floor in the great house to-night; bring your blanket with you."
"Platt," he said, "you will sleep on the floor in the great house tonight. Bring your blanket with you."
I arose as quickly as I was able, took my blanket in my hand, and followed him. On the way he informed me that he should not wonder if Tibeats was back again before morning—that he intended to kill me—and that he did not mean he should do it without witnesses. Had he stabbed me to the heart in the presence of a hundred slaves, not one of them, by the laws of Louisiana, could have given evidence against him. I laid down on the floor in the "great house"—the first and the last time such a sumptuous resting place was granted me during my twelve years of bondage—and tried to sleep. Near midnight the dog began to bark. Chapin arose, looked from the window, but could discover nothing. At length the dog was quiet. As he returned to his room, he said,
I got up as quickly as I could, took my blanket in my hand, and followed him. On the way, he told me he would not be surprised if Tibeats returned before morning. Tibeats intended to kill me, and Chapin did not mean to let him do it without witnesses. Even if Tibeats had stabbed me through the heart in front of a hundred slaves, none could have testified against him under Louisiana law. I lay down on the floor in the "great house" and tried to sleep. It was the first and last time I was given such a sumptuous resting place during my twelve years of bondage. Near midnight, the dog began to bark. Chapin got up and looked out the window, but he could see nothing. Eventually, the dog grew quiet. As Chapin returned to his room, he said,
"I believe, Platt, that scoundrel is skulking about the premises somewhere. If the dog barks again, and I am sleeping, wake me."
“I believe that scoundrel is lurking somewhere on the property, Platt. If the dog barks again while I’m sleeping, wake me.”
I promised to do so. After the lapse of an hour or more, the dog re-commenced his clamor, running towards the gate, then back again, all the while barking furiously.
I promised to do so. An hour or more later, the dog began barking furiously again. He ran toward the gate, then back again, barking all the while.
Chapin was out of bed without waiting to be called. On this occasion, he stepped forth upon the piazza, and remained standing there a considerable length of time. Nothing, however, was to be seen, and the dog returned to his kennel. We were not disturbed again during the night. The excessive pain that I suffered, and the dread of some impending danger, prevented any rest whatever. Whether or not Tibeats did actually return to the plantation that night, seeking an opportunity to wreak his vengeance upon me, is a secret known only to himself, perhaps. I thought then, however, and have the strong impression still, that he was there. At all events, he had the disposition of an assassin—cowering before a brave man's words, but ready to strike his helpless or unsuspecting victim in the back, as I had reason afterwards to know.
Chapin got out of bed without waiting to be called. This time, he stepped onto the porch and stood there for quite a while. But there was nothing to see, and the dog returned to his kennel. We were not disturbed again that night. The terrible pain I suffered and my fear of approaching danger kept me from resting at all. Perhaps only Tibeats himself knows whether he actually returned to the plantation that night, looking for a chance to take revenge on me. But I thought he was there then, and I still strongly believe it. In any case, he had the character of an assassin. He would cower before a brave man's words, but he was ready to stab a helpless or unsuspecting victim in the back. I had reason to learn this afterward.
At daylight in the morning, I arose, sore and weary, having rested little. Nevertheless, after partaking breakfast, which Mary and Eliza had prepared for me in the cabin, I proceeded to the weaving house and commenced the labors of another day. It was Chapin's practice, as it is the practice of overseers generally, immediately on arising, to bestride his horse, always saddled and bridled and ready for him—the particular business of some slave—and ride into the field. This morning, on the contrary, he came to the weaving house, asking if I had seen anything of Tibeats yet. Replying in the negative, he remarked there was something not right about the fellow—there was bad blood in him—that I must keep a sharp watch of him, or he would do me wrong some day when I least expected it.
At daybreak, I got up sore and tired, having slept very little. Still, after eating the breakfast Mary and Eliza had prepared for me in the cabin, I went to the weaving house. There I began another day’s work. Chapin usually rode into the fields as soon as he got up, as overseers generally did. His horse was always saddled, bridled, and ready for him. One slave was assigned to that particular task. This morning, however, he came to the weaving house and asked if I had seen Tibeats yet. When I said I had not, he remarked that something was not right about the fellow. There was bad blood in him. I had to watch him closely, Chapin said, or he would harm me someday when I least expected it.
While he was yet speaking, Tibeats rode in, hitched his horse, and entered the house. I had little fear of him while Ford and Chapin were at hand, but they could not be near me always.
While he was still speaking, Tibeats rode in, tied up his horse, and entered the house. I was not very afraid of Tibeats while Ford and Chapin were nearby, but they could not always be near me.
Oh! how heavily the weight of slavery pressed upon me then. I must toil day after day, endure abuse and taunts and scoffs, sleep on the hard ground, live on the coarsest fare, and not only this, but live the slave of a blood-seeking wretch, of whom I must stand henceforth in continued fear and dread. Why had I not died in my young years—before God had given me children to love and live for? What unhappiness and suffering and sorrow it would have prevented. I sighed for liberty; but the bondman's chain was round me, and could not be shaken off. I could only gaze wistfully towards the North, and think of the thousands of miles that stretched between me and the soil of freedom, over which a black freeman may not pass.
Oh, how heavily slavery weighed on me then. I had to work day after day, endure abuse, taunts, and mockery, and sleep on the hard ground. I had to live on the coarsest food. And beyond all this, I had to live as the slave of a bloodthirsty wretch. From then on, I would live in constant fear and dread of him. Why had I not died when I was young, before God gave me children to love and live for? How much unhappiness, suffering, and sorrow that would have prevented. I longed for freedom, but the slave’s chain was around me, and I could not shake it off. I could only gaze longingly toward the North. I thought of the thousands of miles between me and the land of freedom, miles a free black man could not cross.
Tibeats, in the course of half an hour, walked over to the weaving-house, looked at me sharply, then returned without saying anything. Most of the forenoon he sat on the piazza, reading a newspaper and conversing with Ford. After dinner, the latter left for the Pine Woods, and it was indeed with regret that I beheld him depart from the plantation.
Within half an hour, Tibeats walked over to the weaving-house and looked at me sharply. Then he returned without saying anything. He spent most of the morning sitting on the porch, reading a newspaper and talking with Ford. After dinner, Ford left for the Pine Woods. I was truly sorry to see him leave the plantation.
Once more during the day Tibeats came to me, gave me some order, and returned.
Later that day, Tibeats came to me again, gave me an order, and returned.
During the week the weaving-house was completed—Tibeats in the meantime making no allusion whatever to the difficulty—when I was informed he had hired me to Peter Tanner, to work under another carpenter by the name of Myers. This announcement was received with gratification, as any place was desirable that would relieve me of his hateful presence.
During the week, the weaving-house was completed. Meanwhile, Tibeats made no mention at all of our trouble. Then I was told he had hired me out to Peter Tanner, to work under another carpenter named Myers. I was glad to hear this, because any place was welcome if it took me away from Tibeats’s hateful presence.
Peter Tanner, as the reader has already been informed, lived on the opposite shore, and was the brother of Mistress Ford. He is one of the most extensive planters on Bayou Bœuf, and owns a large number of slaves.
As the reader already knows, Peter Tanner lived on the opposite shore and was Mistress Ford's brother. He is one of the largest planters on Bayou Bœuf and owns a large number of slaves.
Over I went to Tanner's, joyfully enough. He had heard of my late difficulties—in fact, I ascertained the flogging of Tibeats was soon blazoned far and wide. This affair, together with my rafting experiment, had rendered me somewhat notorious. More than once I heard it said that Platt Ford, now Platt Tibeats—a slave's name changes with his change of master—was "a devil of a nigger." But I was destined to make a still further noise, as will presently be seen, throughout the little world of Bayou Bœuf.
I went over to Tanner's, happy enough to go. He had heard about my recent troubles. In fact, I learned that news of my flogging of Tibeats had spread far and wide. That incident, along with my rafting experiment, had made me somewhat notorious. A slave's name changes when he changes masters. More than once, I heard people say that Platt Ford, now Platt Tibeats, was "a devil of a nigger." But I was destined to cause an even greater stir throughout the little world of Bayou Bœuf, as will soon be seen.
Peter Tanner endeavored to impress upon me the idea that he was quite severe, though I could perceive there was a vein of good humor in the old fellow, after all.
Peter Tanner tried to make me think he was quite strict. But I could see that the old fellow had a good-humored streak after all.
"You're the nigger," he said to me on my arrival—"You're the nigger that flogged your master, eh? You're the nigger that kicks, and holds carpenter Tibeats by the leg, and wallops him, are ye? I'd like to see you hold me by the leg—I should. You're a 'portant character—you're a great nigger—very remarkable nigger, ain't ye? I'd lash you—I'd take the tantrums out of ye. Jest take hold of my leg, if you please. None of your pranks here, my boy, remember that. Now go to work, you kickin' rascal," concluded Peter Tanner, unable to suppress a half-comical grin at his own wit and sarcasm.
"You're the nigger," he said to me when I arrived. "You're the nigger that flogged your master, eh? You're the nigger that kicks, and holds carpenter Tibeats by the leg, and wallops him, are you? I'd like to see you hold me by the leg. I would. You're an important character. You're a great nigger. A very remarkable nigger, ain't you? I'd lash you. I'd take the tantrums out of you. Just take hold of my leg, if you please. None of your pranks here, my boy. Remember that. Now go to work, you kicking rascal," Peter Tanner concluded, unable to suppress a half-comical grin at his own wit and sarcasm.
After listening to this salutation, I was taken charge of by Myers, and labored under his direction for a month, to his and my own satisfaction.
After hearing this greeting, I was put under Myers's charge. I worked under his direction for a month, to both his satisfaction and mine.
Like William Ford, his brother-in-law, Tanner was in the habit of reading the Bible to his slaves on the Sabbath, but in a somewhat different spirit. He was an impressive commentator on the New Testament. The first Sunday after my coming to the plantation, he called them together, and began to read the twelfth chapter of Luke. When he came to the 47th verse, he looked deliberately around him, and continued—"And that servant which knew his lord's will,"—here he paused, looking around more deliberately than before, and again proceeded—"which knew his lord's will, and prepared not himself"—here was another pause—"prepared not himself, neither did according to his will, shall be beaten with many stripes."
Like his brother-in-law William Ford, Tanner usually read the Bible to his slaves on Sundays, but in a somewhat different spirit. He was an impressive commentator on the New Testament. On my first Sunday at the plantation, he called the slaves together and began reading the twelfth chapter of Luke. When he reached the 47th verse, he looked slowly around him and continued: "And that servant who knew his master's will," Here he paused and looked around even more deliberately. Then he continued: "who knew his master's will, and did not prepare himself" Here he paused again. "prepare himself, or act according to his will, shall be beaten with many stripes."
"D'ye hear that?" demanded Peter, emphatically. "Stripes," he repeated, slowly and distinctly, taking off his spectacles, preparatory to making a few remarks.
"Do you hear that?" Peter demanded emphatically. "Stripes," he repeated slowly and distinctly. He took off his glasses, preparing to say a few words.
"That nigger that don't take care—that don't obey his lord—that's his master—d'ye see?—that 'ere nigger shall be beaten with many stripes. Now, 'many' signifies a great many—forty, a hundred, a hundred and fifty lashes. That's Scripter!" and so Peter continued to elucidate the subject for a great length of time, much to the edification of his sable audience.
"That nigger that don't take care, that don't obey his lord, that's his master, do you see? That here nigger shall be beaten with many lashes. Now, 'many' signifies a great many: forty, a hundred, a hundred and fifty lashes. That's Scripture!" Peter continued explaining the subject at great length, much to the benefit of his sable audience.
At the conclusion of the exercises, calling up three of his slaves, Warner, Will and Major, he cried out to me—
When the exercises ended, he called up three of his slaves, Warner, Will and Major. Then he called out to me:
"Here, Platt, you held Tibeats by the legs; now I'll see if you can hold these rascals in the same way, till I get back from meetin'."
"Here, Platt, you held Tibeats by the legs. Now I'll see if you can hold these rascals the same way until I get back from meeting."
Thereupon he ordered them to the stocks—a common thing on plantations in the Red River country. The stocks are formed of two planks, the lower one made fast at the ends to two short posts, driven firmly into the ground. At regular distances half circles are cut in the upper edge. The other plank is fastened to one of the posts by a hinge, so that it can be opened or shut down, in the same manner as the blade of a pocket-knife is shut or opened. In the lower edge of the upper plank corresponding half circles are also cut, so that when they close, a row of holes is formed large enough to admit a negro's leg above the ankle, but not large enough to enable him to draw out his foot. The other end of the upper plank, opposite the hinge, is fastened to its post by lock and key. The slave is made to sit upon the ground, when the uppermost plank is elevated, his legs, just above the ankles, placed in the sub-half circles, and shutting it down again, and locking it, he is held secure and fast. Very often the neck instead of the ankle is enclosed. In this manner they are held during the operation of whipping.
Then he ordered them into the stocks, which were common on plantations in the Red River country. The stocks are made of two planks. The lower plank is fastened at both ends to short posts driven firmly into the ground. Half circles are cut at regular intervals along its upper edge. The other plank is hinged to one of the posts. It can be opened or shut like the blade of a pocketknife. Matching half circles are cut along the lower edge of the upper plank. When the planks are closed, the half circles form a row of holes. Each hole is large enough for a negro's leg just above the ankle, but too small for his foot to pass through. The end of the upper plank opposite the hinge is secured to its post with a lock and key. The slave is made to sit on the ground while the upper plank is raised. His legs are placed in the lower half circles, just above the ankles. Then the upper plank is shut and locked, holding him securely. Very often, the neck is enclosed instead of the ankle. They are held this way while they are whipped.
Warner, Will and Major, according to Tanner's account of them, were melon-stealing, Sabbath-breaking niggers, and not approving of such wickedness, he felt it his duty to put them in the stocks. Handing me the key, himself, Myers, Mistress Tanner and the children entered the carriage and drove away to church at Cheneyville. When they were gone, the boys begged me to let them out. I felt sorry to see them sitting on the hot ground, and remembered my own sufferings in the sun. Upon their promise to return to the stocks at any moment they were required to do so, I consented to release them. Grateful for the lenity shown them, and in order in some measure to repay it, they could do no less, of course, than pilot me to the melon-patch. Shortly before Tanner's return, they were in the stocks again. Finally he drove up, and looking at the boys, said, with a chuckle,—
According to Tanner, Warner, Will and Major were melon-stealing, Sabbath-breaking niggers. He disapproved of such wickedness and felt it was his duty to put them in the stocks. He handed me the key. Then he, Myers, Mistress Tanner and the children got into the carriage and drove to church in Cheneyville. After they left, the boys begged me to let them out. I felt sorry for them, sitting on the hot ground, and remembered my own suffering in the sun. They promised to return to the stocks whenever they were told to, so I agreed to release them. They were grateful for my kindness and wanted to repay it in some way. So, of course, they could do no less than lead me to the melon patch. Shortly before Tanner returned, they were back in the stocks. At last he drove up, looked at the boys, and said with a chuckle:
"Aha! ye havn't been strolling about much to-day, any way. I'll teach you what's what. I'll tire ye of eating water-melons on the Lord's day, ye Sabbath-breaking niggers."
"Aha! You haven't been strolling around much today, anyway. I'll teach you what's what. I'll make you tired of eating watermelons on the Lord's day, you Sabbath-breaking niggers."
Peter Tanner prided himself upon his strict religious observances: he was a deacon in the church.
Peter Tanner took pride in strictly following his religious duties. He was a deacon in the church.
But I have now reached a point in the progress of my narrative, when it becomes necessary to turn away from these light descriptions, to the more grave and weighty matter of the second battle with Master Tibeats, and the flight through the great Pacoudrie Swamp.
But I have now reached a point in my story where I must turn away from these lighter descriptions. I must turn to the more serious account of my second battle with Master Tibeats and my flight through the great Pacoudrie Swamp.