Chapter 11

THE MISTRESS' GARDEN—THE CRIMSON AND GOLDEN FRUIT—ORANGE AND POMEGRANATE TREES—RETURN TO BAYOU BŒUF—MASTER FORD'S REMARKS ON THE WAY—THE MEETING WITH TIBEATS—HIS ACCOUNT OF THE CHASE—FORD CENSURES HIS BRUTALITY—ARRIVAL AT THE PLANTATION—ASTONISHMENT OF THE SLAVES ON SEEING ME—THE ANTICIPATED FLOGGING—KENTUCKY JOHN—MR. ELDRET, THE PLANTER—ELDRET'S SAM—TRIP TO THE "BIG CANE BRAKE"—THE TRADITION OF "SUTTON'S FIELD"—FOREST TREES—GNATS AND MOSQUITOS—THE ARRIVAL OF BLACK WOMEN IN THE BIG CANE—LUMBER WOMEN—SUDDEN APPEARANCE OF TIBEATS—HIS PROVOKING TREATMENT—VISIT TO BAYOU BŒUF—THE SLAVE PASS—SOUTHERN HOSPITALITY—THE LAST OF ELIZA—SALE TO EDWIN EPPS.

THE MISTRESS'S GARDEN. THE CRIMSON AND GOLDEN FRUIT. ORANGE AND POMEGRANATE TREES. RETURN TO BAYOU BŒUF. MASTER FORD'S REMARKS ALONG THE WAY. THE MEETING WITH TIBEATS. HIS ACCOUNT OF THE CHASE. FORD CRITICIZES HIS BRUTALITY. ARRIVAL AT THE PLANTATION. THE SLAVES' ASTONISHMENT AT SEEING ME. THE EXPECTED FLOGGING. KENTUCKY JOHN. MR. ELDRET, THE PLANTER. ELDRET'S SAM. TRIP TO THE "BIG CANE BRAKE". THE STORY OF "SUTTON'S FIELD". FOREST TREES. GNATS AND MOSQUITOES. THE ARRIVAL OF BLACK WOMEN IN THE BIG CANE. WOMEN WORKING WITH LUMBER. TIBEATS SUDDENLY APPEARS. HIS PROVOKING TREATMENT. VISIT TO BAYOU BŒUF. THE SLAVE PASS. SOUTHERN HOSPITALITY. THE LAST OF ELIZA. SALE TO EDWIN EPPS.

After a long sleep, sometime in the afternoon I awoke, refreshed, but very sore and stiff. Sally came in and talked with me, while John cooked me some dinner. Sally was in great trouble, as well as myself, one of her children being ill, and she feared it could not survive. Dinner over, after walking about the quarters for a while, visiting Sally's cabin and looking at the sick child, I strolled into the madam's garden. Though it was a season of the year when the voices of the birds are silent, and the trees are stripped of their summer glories in more frigid climes, yet the whole variety of roses were then blooming there, and the long, luxuriant vines creeping over the frames. The crimson and golden fruit hung half hidden amidst the younger and older blossoms of the peach, the orange, the plum, and the pomegranate; for, in that region of almost perpetual warmth, the leaves are falling and the buds bursting into bloom the whole year long.

After a long sleep, I woke sometime in the afternoon, refreshed but very sore and stiff. Sally came in and talked with me while John cooked me dinner. Sally was in great trouble, as I was. One of her children was ill, and she feared the child would not survive. After dinner, I walked around the quarters for a while. I visited Sally's cabin and looked at the sick child, then strolled into the madam's garden. In colder climates, birds were silent and trees had lost their summer beauty at that time of year. Yet every variety of rose was blooming in the garden, and long, lush vines crept over the frames. Crimson and golden fruit hung half hidden among the younger and older blossoms of the peach, orange, plum, and pomegranate trees. For in that almost always warm region, leaves fall and buds burst into bloom all year long.

I indulged the most grateful feelings towards Master and Mistress Ford, and wishing in some manner to repay their kindness, commenced trimming the vines, and afterwards weeding out the grass from among the orange and pomegranate trees. The latter grows eight or ten feet high, and its fruit, though larger, is similar in appearance to the jelly-flower. It has the luscious flavor of the strawberry. Oranges, peaches, plums, and most other fruits are indigenous to the rich, warm soil of Avoyelles; but the apple, the most common of them all in colder latitudes, is rarely to be seen.

I felt deeply grateful to Master and Mistress Ford and wanted to repay their kindness in some way. I began trimming the vines, then weeded the grass from among the orange and pomegranate trees. The pomegranate tree grows eight or ten feet high. Its fruit looks like the jelly-flower, though it is larger. It has the delicious flavor of a strawberry. Oranges, peaches, plums, and most other fruits are native to the rich, warm soil of Avoyelles. But apples, the most common fruit in colder regions, are rarely seen there.

Mistress Ford came out presently, saying it was praise-worthy in me, but I was not in a condition to labor, and might rest myself at the quarters until master should go down to Bayou Bœuf, which would not be that day, and it might not be the next. I said to her—to be sure, I felt bad, and was stiff, and that my foot pained me, the stubs and thorns having so torn it, but thought such exercise would not hurt me, and that it was a great pleasure to work for so good a mistress. Thereupon she returned to the great house, and for three days I was diligent in the garden, cleaning the walks, weeding the flower beds, and pulling up the rank grass beneath the jessamine vines, which the gentle and generous hand of my protectress had taught to clamber along the walls.

Mistress Ford soon came out and said my willingness to work was praiseworthy, but I was not fit for labor. She said I could rest at the quarters until master went down to Bayou Bœuf. He would not go that day, and he might not go the next. I told her that I certainly felt bad and stiff, and that my foot hurt where stubs and thorns had torn it. But I thought the exercise would not hurt me, and that working for such a good mistress was a great pleasure. She then returned to the great house. For three days, I worked diligently in the garden, cleaning the paths, weeding the flower beds, and pulling up the overgrown grass beneath the jessamine vines. My protectress had gently and generously trained the vines to climb along the walls.

The fourth morning, having become recruited and refreshed, Master Ford ordered me to make ready to accompany him to the bayou. There was but one saddle horse at the opening, all the others with the mules having been sent down to the plantation. I said I could walk, and bidding Sally and John goodbye, left the opening, trotting along by the horse's side.

On the fourth morning, after I had rested and recovered, Master Ford told me to get ready to accompany him to the bayou. There was only one saddle horse at the opening. All the other horses and the mules had been sent down to the plantation. I said I could walk. I said goodbye to Sally and John and left the opening, trotting alongside the horse.

That little paradise in the Great Pine Woods was the oasis in the desert, towards which my heart turned lovingly, during many years of bondage. I went forth from it now with regret and sorrow, not so overwhelming, however, as if it had then been given me to know that I should never return to it again.

That little paradise in the Great Pine Woods was an oasis in the desert. My heart turned to it with love during many years of bondage. I left it now with regret and sorrow. But my sorrow was not as overwhelming as it would have been if I had known I would never return.

Master Ford urged me to take his place occasionally on the horse, to rest me; but I said no, I was not tired, and it was better for me to walk than him. He said many kind and cheering things to me on the way, riding slowly, in order that I might keep pace with him. The goodness of God was manifest, he declared, in my miraculous escape from the swamp. As Daniel came forth unharmed from the den of lions, and as Jonah had been preserved in the whale's belly, even so had I been delivered from evil by the Almighty. He interrogated me in regard to the various fears and emotions I had experienced during the day and night, and if I had felt, at any time, a desire to pray. I felt forsaken of the whole world, I answered him, and was praying mentally all the while. At such times, said he, the heart of man turns instinctively towards his Maker. In prosperity, and when there is nothing to injure or make him afraid, he remembers Him not, and is ready to defy Him; but place him in the midst of dangers, cut him off from human aid, let the grave open before him—then it is, in the time of his tribulation, that the scoffer and unbelieving man turns to God for help, feeling there is no other hope, or refuge, or safety, save in his protecting arm.

Master Ford urged me to take his place on the horse now and then so I could rest. But I said no. I was not tired, and it was better for me to walk than for him. He said many kind and encouraging things to me along the way. He rode slowly so that I could keep up with him. He declared that my miraculous escape from the swamp showed the goodness of God. Just as Daniel came out of the lions’ den unharmed, and Jonah was preserved in the whale’s belly, the Almighty had delivered me from evil. He asked about the fears and emotions I had experienced during the day and night. He also asked whether I had felt a desire to pray at any time. I answered that I had felt abandoned by the whole world and had been praying silently all the while. At such times, he said, the human heart turns instinctively toward its Maker. When a man is prosperous and has nothing to hurt or frighten him, he does not remember God and is ready to defy him. But place him in danger, cut him off from human help, and let the grave open before him. Then, in his suffering, even the scoffer and the unbeliever turns to God for help. He feels that his only hope, refuge, and safety lie in God’s protecting arm.

So did that benignant man speak to me of this life and of the life hereafter; of the goodness and power of God, and of the vanity of earthly things, as we journeyed along the solitary road towards Bayou Bœuf.

As we traveled along the lonely road toward Bayou Bœuf, that kind man spoke to me about this life and the life after death. He spoke of God’s goodness and power, and of how little earthly things matter.

When within some five miles of the plantation, we discovered a horseman at a distance, galloping towards us. As he came near I saw that it was Tibeats! He looked at me a moment, but did not address me, and turning about, rode along side by side with Ford. I trotted silently at their horses' heels, listening to their conversation. Ford informed him of my arrival in the Pine Woods three days before, of the sad plight I was in, and of the difficulties and dangers I had encountered.

When we were about five miles from the plantation, we saw a horseman in the distance, galloping toward us. As he came closer, I saw that it was Tibeats! He looked at me for a moment but said nothing. Then he turned around and rode beside Ford. I trotted silently behind their horses, listening to their conversation. Ford told him I had arrived in the Pine Woods three days earlier. He described the sad condition I was in and the difficulties and dangers I had faced.

"Well," exclaimed Tibeats, omitting his usual oaths in the presence of Ford, "I never saw such running before. I'll bet him against a hundred dollars, he'll beat any nigger in Louisiana. I offered John David Cheney twenty-five dollars to catch him, dead or alive, but he outran his dogs in a fair race. Them Cheney dogs ain't much, after all. Dunwoodie's hounds would have had him down before he touched the palmettoes. Somehow the dogs got off the track, and we had to give up the hunt. We rode the horses as far as we could, and then kept on foot till the water was three feet deep. The boys said he was drowned, sure. I allow I wanted a shot at him mightily. Ever since, I have been riding up and down the bayou, but had'nt much hope of catching him—thought he was dead, sartin. Oh, he's a cuss to run—that nigger is!"

"Well," exclaimed Tibeats, leaving out his usual oaths in Ford's presence, "I never saw such running before. I'll bet a hundred dollars he'll beat any nigger in Louisiana. I offered John David Cheney twenty-five dollars to catch him, dead or alive. But he outran Cheney's dogs in a fair race. Those Cheney dogs ain't much, after all. Dunwoodie's hounds would have had him down before he reached the palmettoes. Somehow the dogs lost the trail, and we had to give up the hunt. We rode the horses as far as we could, then kept going on foot until the water was three feet deep. The boys said he was drowned, sure. I admit I really wanted a shot at him. Ever since, I have been riding up and down the bayou. But I hadn't much hope of catching him. I thought he was dead, certain. Oh, he's a cuss to run, that nigger is!"

In this way Tibeats ran on, describing his search in the swamp, the wonderful speed with which I had fled before the hounds, and when he had finished, Master Ford responded by saying, I had always been a willing and faithful boy with him; that he was sorry we had such trouble; that, according to Platt's story, he had been inhumanly treated, and that he, Tibeats, was himself in fault. Using hatchets and broad-axes upon slaves was shameful, and should not be allowed, he remarked. "This is no way of dealing with them, when first brought into the country. It will have a pernicious influence, and set them all running away. The swamps will be full of them. A little kindness would be far more effectual in restraining them, and rendering them obedient, than the use of such deadly weapons. Every planter on the bayou should frown upon such inhumanity. It is for the interest of all to do so. It is evident enough, Mr. Tibeats, that you and Platt cannot live together. You dislike him, and would not hesitate to kill him, and knowing it, he will run from you again through fear of his life. Now, Tibeats, you must sell him, or hire him out, at least. Unless you do so, I shall take measures to get him out of your possession."

Tibeats went on like this, describing his search in the swamp and the remarkable speed with which I had fled before the hounds. When he finished, Master Ford responded that I had always been a willing and faithful boy while with him. He was sorry that Tibeats and I had so much trouble. According to Platt’s story, I had been treated inhumanly, and Tibeats himself was at fault. Ford remarked that using hatchets and broad-axes on slaves was shameful and should not be allowed. "This is no way to treat them when they are first brought into the country. It will have a harmful effect and make them all run away. The swamps will be full of them. A little kindness would be far more effective than such deadly weapons in keeping them from running away and making them obedient. Every planter on the bayou should condemn such cruelty. It is in everyone’s interest to do so. It is clear enough, Mr. Tibeats, that you and Platt cannot live together. You dislike him and would not hesitate to kill him. He knows this, so he will run away from you again for fear of his life. Now, Tibeats, you must sell him, or at least hire him out. Unless you do, I will take steps to get him out of your possession."

In this spirit Ford addressed him the remainder of the distance. I opened not my mouth. On reaching the plantation they entered the great house, while I repaired to Eliza's cabin. The slaves were astonished to find me there, on returning from the field, supposing I was drowned. That night, again, they gathered about the cabin to listen to the story of my adventure. They took it for granted I would be whipped, and that it would be severe, the well-known penalty of running away being five hundred lashes.

Ford spoke to him in this spirit for the rest of the journey. I did not open my mouth. When we reached the plantation, they entered the great house, while I went to Eliza's cabin. When the slaves returned from the field, they were astonished to find me there. They had thought I was drowned. That night, they gathered around the cabin again to hear the story of my adventure. They assumed I would be severely whipped, since the well-known penalty for running away was five hundred lashes.

"Poor fellow," said Eliza, taking me by the hand, "it would have been better for you if you had drowned. You have a cruel master, and he will kill you yet, I am afraid."

"Poor fellow," said Eliza, taking my hand. "It would have been better for you if you had drowned. You have a cruel master, and I'm afraid he will kill you someday."

Lawson suggested that it might be, overseer Chapin would be appointed to inflict the punishment, in which case it would not be severe, whereupon Mary, Rachel, Bristol, and others hoped it would be Master Ford, and then it would be no whipping at all. They all pitied me and tried to console me, and were sad in view of the castigation that awaited me, except Kentucky John. There were no bounds to his laughter; he filled the cabin with cachinnations, holding his sides to prevent an explosion, and the cause of his noisy mirth was the idea of my outstripping the hounds. Somehow, he looked at the subject in a comical light. "I know'd dey would'nt cotch him, when he run cross de plantation. O, de lor', did'nt Platt pick his feet right up, tho', hey? When dem dogs got whar he was, he was'nt dar—haw, haw, haw! O, de lor' a' mity!"—and then Kentucky John relapsed into another of his boisterous fits.

Lawson suggested that overseer Chapin might be appointed to punish me. If so, the punishment would not be severe. Mary, Rachel, Bristol, and others hoped Master Ford would be appointed, because then there would be no whipping at all. They all pitied me and tried to comfort me. They were sad about the whipping that awaited me, except Kentucky John. His laughter knew no bounds. He filled the cabin with loud laughter, holding his sides to keep from bursting. He was laughing so loudly at the thought of my outrunning the hounds. Somehow, he saw the whole thing as funny. "I knowed they wouldn't catch him, when he run across the plantation. Oh, the Lord, didn't Platt pick his feet right up, though, hey? When them dogs got where he was, he wasn't there, haw, haw, haw! Oh, the Lord almighty!" Then Kentucky John broke into another fit of boisterous laughter.

Early the next morning, Tibeats left the plantation. In the course of the forenoon, while sauntering about the gin-house, a tall, good-looking man came to me, and inquired if I was Tibeats' boy, that youthful appellation being applied indiscriminately to slaves even though they may have passed the number of three score years and ten. I took off my hat, and answered that I was.

Early the next morning, Tibeats left the plantation. Later that morning, I was walking around the gin-house when a tall, good-looking man came up to me. He asked if I was Tibeats' boy. That youthful name was used for slaves without distinction, even for those who may have been over seventy. I took off my hat and answered that I was.

"How would you like to work for me?" he inquired.

"How would you like to work for me?" he asked.

"Oh, I would like to, very much," said I, inspired with a sudden hope of getting away from Tibeats.

"Oh, I would like to, very much," I said, suddenly hopeful that I could get away from Tibeats.

"You worked under Myers at Peter Tanner's, didn't you?"

"You worked under Myers at Peter Tanner's, didn't you?"

I replied I had, adding some complimentary remarks that Myers had made concerning me.

I replied that I had and added some kind remarks Myers had made about me.

"Well, boy," said he, "I have hired you of your master to work for me in the "Big Cane Brake," thirty-eight miles from here, down on Red River."

"Well, boy," he said, "I hired you from your master to work for me in the "Big Cane Brake." It's thirty-eight miles from here, down on Red River."

This man was Mr. Eldret, who lived below Ford's, on the same side of the bayou. I accompanied him to his plantation, and in the morning started with his slave Sam, and a wagon-load of provisions, drawn by four mules, for the Big Cane, Eldret and Myers having preceded us on horseback. This Sam was a native of Charleston, where he had a mother, brother and sisters. He "allowed"—a common word among both black and white—that Tibeats was a mean man, and hoped, as I most earnestly did also, that his master would buy me.

This man was Mr. Eldret, who lived downstream from Ford, on the same side of the bayou. I went with him to his plantation. The next morning, I set out for the Big Cane with his slave Sam and a wagon-load of provisions. Four mules pulled the wagon. Eldret and Myers had gone ahead of us on horseback. Sam was from Charleston, where his mother, brother, and sisters lived. He "allowed" that Tibeats was a mean man. “Allowed” was a common word among both black and white people. Sam hoped his master would buy me, and I hoped so just as earnestly.

We proceeded down the south shore of the bayou, crossing it at Carey's plantation; from thence to Huff Power, passing which, we came upon the Bayou Rouge road, which runs towards Red River. After passing through Bayou Rouge Swamp, and just at sunset, turning from the highway, we struck off into the "Big Cane Brake." We followed an unbeaten track, scarcely wide enough to admit the wagon. The cane, such as are used for fishing-rods, were as thick as they could stand. A person could not be seen through them the distance of a rod. The paths of wild beasts run through them in various directions—the bear and the American tiger abounding in these brakes, and wherever there is a basin of stagnant water, it is full of alligators.

We traveled along the south shore of the bayou and crossed it at Carey's plantation. From there, we went to Huff Power. After passing it, we reached the Bayou Rouge road, which runs toward Red River. We passed through Bayou Rouge Swamp and, just at sunset, turned off the highway into the "Big Cane Brake." We followed an unmarked track barely wide enough for the wagon. The cane, like that used for fishing rods, grew as thickly as it could. You could not see a person through it from a rod away. Wild animal paths ran through the cane in various directions. Bears and American tigers were plentiful in these brakes, and wherever there was a pool of stagnant water, it was full of alligators.

We kept on our lonely course through the "Big Cane" several miles, when we entered a clearing, known as "Sutton's Field." Many years before, a man by the name of Sutton had penetrated the wilderness of cane to this solitary place. Tradition has it, that he fled thither, a fugitive, not from service, but from justice. Here he lived alone—recluse and hermit of the swamp—with his own hands planting the seed and gathering in the harvest. One day a band of Indians stole upon his solitude, and after a bloody battle, overpowered and massacred him. For miles the country round, in the slaves' quarters, and on the piazzas of "great houses," where white children listen to superstitious tales, the story goes, that that spot, in the heart of the "Big Cane," is a haunted place. For more than a quarter of a century, human voices had rarely, if ever, disturbed the silence of the clearing. Rank and noxious weeds had overspread the once cultivated field—serpents sunned themselves on the doorway of the crumbling cabin. It was indeed a dreary picture of desolation.

We continued on our lonely course through the "Big Cane" for several miles. Then we entered a clearing known as "Sutton's Field." Many years before, a man named Sutton had made his way through the wilderness of cane to this solitary place. According to tradition, he had fled there as a fugitive, not from service, but from justice. He lived alone there, a recluse and hermit in the swamp. With his own hands, he planted the seed and gathered the harvest. One day a band of Indians crept up on him. After a bloody battle, they overpowered and massacred him. For miles around, people tell the story that the spot in the heart of the "Big Cane" is haunted. They tell it in the slaves' quarters and on the porches of "great houses," where white children listen to superstitious tales. For more than a quarter of a century, human voices had rarely, if ever, disturbed the silence of the clearing. Thick, harmful weeds had spread over the once cultivated field. Serpents sunned themselves in the doorway of the crumbling cabin. It was indeed a dreary picture of desolation.

Passing "Sutton's Field," we followed a new-cut road two miles farther, which brought us to its termination. We had now reached the wild lands of Mr. Eldret, where he contemplated clearing up an extensive plantation. We went to work next morning with our cane-knives, and cleared a sufficient space to allow the erection of two cabins—one for Myers and Eldret, the other for Sam, myself, and the slaves that were to join us. We were now in the midst of trees of enormous growth, whose wide-spreading branches almost shut out the light of the sun, while the space between the trunks was an impervious mass of cane, with here and there an occasional palmetto.

After passing "Sutton's Field," we followed a newly cut road for another two miles, until it ended. We had reached Mr. Eldret's wild land, where he planned to clear a large plantation. The next morning, we went to work with our cane-knives. We cleared enough space to build two cabins. One was for Myers and Eldret, and the other was for Sam, me, and the slaves who would join us. We were now surrounded by enormous trees. Their wide branches almost shut out the sunlight. Between their trunks, the cane formed an impenetrable mass, with an occasional palmetto here and there.

The bay and the sycamore, the oak and the cypress, reach a growth unparalleled, in those fertile lowlands bordering the Red River. From every tree, moreover, hang long, large masses of moss, presenting to the eye unaccustomed to them, a striking and singular appearance. This moss, in large quantities, is sent north, and there used for manufacturing purposes.

Bay trees, sycamores, oaks, and cypresses grow to unparalleled size in the fertile lowlands bordering the Red River. Long, large masses of moss hang from every tree. To anyone unaccustomed to them, they are a striking and unusual sight. Large quantities of this moss are sent north and used in manufacturing.

We cut down oaks, split them into rails, and with these erected temporary cabins. We covered the roofs with the broad palmetto leaf, an excellent substitute for shingles, as long as they last.

We cut down oak trees, split them into rails, and used them to build temporary cabins. We covered the roofs with broad palmetto leaves. They are an excellent substitute for shingles as long as they last.

The greatest annoyance I met with here were small flies, gnats and mosquitoes. They swarmed the air. They penetrated the porches of the ear, the nose, the eyes, the mouth. They sucked themselves beneath the skin. It was impossible to brush or beat them off. It seemed, indeed, as if they would devour us—carry us away piecemeal, in their small tormenting mouths.

The greatest annoyance I encountered here was the small flies, gnats, and mosquitoes. They filled the air. They got into our ears, noses, eyes, and mouths. They burrowed beneath our skin. It was impossible to brush or beat them off. It seemed they would devour us, carrying us away piece by piece in their tiny, tormenting mouths.

A lonelier spot, or one more disagreeable, than the centre of the "Big Cane Brake," it would be difficult to conceive; yet to me it was a paradise, in comparison with any other place in the company of Master Tibeats. I labored hard, and oft-times was weary and fatigued, yet I could lie down at night in peace, and arise in the morning without fear.

It would be hard to imagine a lonelier or more unpleasant place than the center of the "Big Cane Brake." Yet to me, it was paradise compared with being anywhere else in Master Tibeats's company. I worked hard and was often tired and worn out. Yet I could lie down at night in peace and get up in the morning without fear.

In the course of a fortnight, four black girls came down from Eldret's plantation—Charlotte, Fanny, Cresia and Nelly. They were all large and stout. Axes were put into their hands, and they were sent out with Sam and myself to cut trees. They were excellent choppers, the largest oak or sycamore standing but a brief season before their heavy and well-directed blows. At piling logs, they were equal to any man. There are lumberwomen as well as lumbermen in the forests of the South. In fact, in the region of the Bayou Bœuf they perform their share of all the labor required on the plantation. They plough, drag, drive team, clear wild lands, work on the highway, and so forth. Some planters, owning large cotton and sugar plantations, have none other than the labor of slave women. Such a one is Jim Burns, who lives on the north shore of the bayou, opposite the plantation of John Fogaman.

Within two weeks, four black girls came down from Eldret's plantation: Charlotte, Fanny, Cresia and Nelly. They were all large and strong. They were given axes and sent out with Sam and me to cut trees. They were excellent choppers. Even the largest oak or sycamore soon fell under their heavy, well-aimed blows. They were equal to any man at piling logs. There are lumberwomen as well as lumbermen in the forests of the South. In fact, in the Bayou Bœuf region, women do their share of all the work required on the plantation. They plow, harrow, drive teams, clear wild land, work on the roads, and so on. Some planters who own large cotton and sugar plantations use only the labor of slave women. One such planter is Jim Burns, who lives on the north shore of the bayou, opposite John Fogaman's plantation.

On our arrival in the brake, Eldret promised me, if I worked well, I might go up to visit my friends at Ford's in four weeks. On Saturday night of the fifth week, I reminded him of his promise, when he told me I had done so well, that I might go. I had set my heart upon it, and Eldret's announcement thrilled me with pleasure. I was to return in time to commence the labors of the day on Tuesday morning.

When we arrived at the brake, Eldret promised me that if I worked well, I could visit my friends at Ford's in four weeks. On Saturday night of the fifth week, I reminded him of his promise. He told me I had worked so well that I could go. I had set my heart on the visit, and his announcement thrilled me. I was to return in time to start work on Tuesday morning.

While indulging the pleasant anticipation of so soon meeting my old friends again, suddenly the hateful form of Tibeats appeared among us. He inquired how Myers and Platt got along together, and was told, very well, and that Platt was going up to Ford's plantation in the morning on a visit.

I was happily looking forward to seeing my old friends again so soon when Tibeats suddenly appeared among us. I hated the sight of him. He asked how Myers and Platt were getting along. He was told they were getting along very well, and that Platt was going to visit Ford's plantation in the morning.

"Poh, poh!" sneered Tibeats; "it isn't worth while—the nigger will get unsteady. He can't go."

"Poh, poh!" Tibeats sneered. "It's not worth it. The nigger will get unsteady. He can't go."

But Eldret insisted I had worked faithfully—that he had given me his promise, and that, under the circumstances, I ought not to be disappointed. They then, it being about dark, entered one cabin and I the other. I could not give up the idea of going; it was a sore disappointment. Before morning I resolved, if Eldret made no objection, to leave at all hazards. At daylight I was at his door, with my blanket rolled up into a bundle, and hanging on a stick over my shoulder, waiting for a pass. Tibeats came out presently in one of his disagreeable moods, washed his face, and going to a stump near by, sat down upon it, apparently busily thinking with himself. After standing there a long time, impelled by a sudden impulse of impatience, I started off.

But Eldret insisted that I had worked faithfully and that he had given me his promise. Under the circumstances, he said, I should not be disappointed. It was nearly dark. They went into one cabin, and I went into the other. I could not give up the idea of going. It was a bitter disappointment. Before morning, I decided to leave at all costs if Eldret did not object. At daylight, I stood at his door, waiting for a pass. My blanket was rolled into a bundle and hung from a stick over my shoulder. Tibeats soon came out in one of his disagreeable moods and washed his face. Then he went to a nearby stump and sat down, apparently deep in thought. After standing there a long time, I suddenly grew impatient and started off.

"Are you going without a pass?" he cried out to me.

"Are you going without a pass?" he shouted to me.

"Yes, master, I thought I would," I answered.

"Yes, master, I thought I would," I answered.

"How do you think you'll get there?" demanded he.

"How do you think you'll get there?" he demanded.

"Don't know," was all the reply I made him.

“Don't know,” was all I said to him.

"You'd be taken and sent to jail, where you ought to be, before you got half-way there," he added, passing into the cabin as he said it. He came out soon with the pass in his hand, and calling me a "d—d nigger that deserved a hundred lashes," threw it on the ground. I picked it up, and hurried away right speedily.

"You'd be caught and sent to jail, where you belong, before you got halfway there," he added as he went into the cabin. He soon came out with the pass in his hand. He called me a "damned nigger that deserved a hundred lashes" and threw the pass on the ground. I picked it up and hurried away.

A slave caught off his master's plantation without a pass, may be seized and whipped by any white man whom he meets. The one I now received was dated, and read as follows:

Any white man who meets a slave off his master's plantation without a pass may seize and whip him. The pass I had just received was dated and read as follows:

This is the usual form. On the way, a great many demanded it, read it, and passed on. Those having the air and appearance of gentlemen, whose dress indicated the possession of wealth, frequently took no notice of me whatever; but a shabby fellow, an unmistakable loafer, never failed to hail me, and to scrutinize and examine me in the most thorough manner. Catching runaways is sometimes a money-making business. If, after advertising, no owner appears, they may be sold to the highest bidder; and certain fees are allowed the finder for his services, at all events, even if reclaimed. "A mean white," therefore,—a name applied to the species loafer—considers it a god-send to meet an unknown negro without a pass.

This is the usual form. Along the way, many people demanded to see my pass, read it, and moved on. Men who looked like gentlemen and dressed as if they were wealthy often paid no attention to me. But a shabby fellow, clearly a loafer, never failed to stop me and examine me closely. Catching runaways can be a profitable business. If no owner appears after a runaway is advertised, the runaway may be sold to the highest bidder. Even if the owner reclaims the runaway, the finder is paid certain fees for his services. A “mean white,” as this kind of loafer is called, therefore sees it as a godsend to meet an unknown negro without a pass.

There are no inns along the highways in that portion of the State where I sojourned. I was wholly destitute of money, neither did I carry any provisions, on my journey from the Big Cane to Bayou Bœuf; nevertheless, with his pass in his hand, a slave need never suffer from hunger or from thirst. It is only necessary to present it to the master or overseer of a plantation, and state his wants, when he will be sent round to the kitchen and provided with food or shelter, as the case may require. The traveler stops at any house and calls for a meal with as much freedom as if it was a public tavern. It is the general custom of the country. Whatever their faults may be, it is certain the inhabitants along Red River, and around the bayous in the interior of Louisiana are not wanting in hospitality.

There are no inns along the highways in the part of the state where I stayed. I had no money or provisions on my journey from the Big Cane to Bayou Bœuf. Even so, a slave with a pass in his hand need never go hungry or thirsty. He only has to show the pass to a plantation master or overseer and say what he needs. He will then be sent to the kitchen and given food or shelter, as needed. A traveler stops at any house and asks for a meal as freely as if it were a public tavern. This is the general custom in the region. Whatever their faults may be, the people along Red River and around the bayous of inland Louisiana are certainly hospitable.

I arrived at Ford's plantation towards the close of the afternoon, passing the evening in Eliza's cabin, with Lawson, Rachel, and others of my acquaintance. When we left Washington Eliza's form was round and plump. She stood erect, and in her silks and jewels, presented a picture of graceful strength and elegance. Now she was but a thin shadow of her former self. Her face had become ghastly haggard, and the once straight and active form was bowed down, as if bearing the weight of a hundred years. Crouching on her cabin floor, and clad in the coarse garments of a slave, old Elisha Berry would not have recognized the mother of his child. I never saw her afterwards. Having become useless in the cotton-field, she was bartered for a trifle, to some man residing in the vicinity of Peter Compton's. Grief had gnawed remorselessly at her heart, until her strength was gone; and for that, her last master, it is said, lashed and abused her most unmercifully. But he could not whip back the departed vigor of her youth, nor straighten up that bended body to its full height, such as it was when her children were around her, and the light of freedom was shining on her path.

I arrived at Ford's plantation late in the afternoon. I spent the evening in Eliza's cabin with Lawson, Rachel, and others I knew. When we left Washington, Eliza was round and plump. She stood straight, and in her silks and jewels, she looked graceful, strong, and elegant. Now she was only a thin shadow of her former self. Her face had become horribly gaunt. Her once straight and active body was bent, as if she bore the weight of a hundred years. Crouched on her cabin floor, dressed in the coarse clothing of a slave, she would have been unrecognizable to old Elisha Berry, the father of her child. I never saw her again. Once she could no longer work in the cotton field, she was traded for very little to a man living near Peter Compton's. Grief had relentlessly eaten away at her heart until her strength was gone. For that, her last master, it is said, whipped and abused her mercilessly. But he could not whip back the lost strength of her youth. Nor could he straighten her bent body to its full height, as it had been when her children were around her and the light of freedom shone on her path.

I learned the particulars relative to her departure from this world, from some of Compton's slaves, who had come over Red River to the bayou, to assist young Madam Tanner during the "busy season." She became at length, they said, utterly helpless, for several weeks lying on the ground floor in a dilapidated cabin, dependent upon the mercy of her fellow-thralls for an occasional drop of water, and a morsel of food. Her master did not "knock her on the head," as is sometimes done to put a suffering animal out of misery, but left her unprovided for, and unprotected, to linger through a life of pain and wretchedness to its natural close. When the hands returned from the field one night they found her dead! During the day, the Angel of the Lord, who moveth invisibly over all the earth, gathering in his harvest of departing souls, had silently entered the cabin of the dying woman, and taken her from thence. She was free at last!

I learned the details of her death from some of Compton's slaves. They had crossed the Red River to the bayou to help young Madam Tanner during the "busy season." They said she eventually became utterly helpless. For several weeks, she lay on the ground floor of a dilapidated cabin. She depended on the mercy of her fellow slaves for an occasional drop of water and morsel of food. Her master did not "knock her on the head," as people sometimes do to put a suffering animal out of its misery. Instead, he left her without care or protection. He left her to linger through a life of pain and wretchedness until it came to its natural end. When the hands returned from the field one night, they found her dead! During the day, the Angel of the Lord had silently entered the dying woman's cabin and taken her away. The Angel moves invisibly over all the earth, gathering his harvest of departing souls. She was free at last!

Next day, rolling up my blanket, I started on my return to the Big Cane. After traveling five miles, at a place called Huff Power, the ever-present Tibeats met me in the road. He inquired why I was going back so soon, and when informed I was anxious to return by the time I was directed, he said I need go no farther than the next plantation, as he had that day sold me to Edwin Epps. We walked down into the yard, where we met the latter gentleman, who examined me, and asked me the usual questions propounded by purchasers. Having been duly delivered over, I was ordered to the quarters, and at the same time directed to make a hoe and axe handle for myself.

The next day, I rolled up my blanket and started back to the Big Cane. After I had traveled five miles, I met the ever-present Tibeats on the road at a place called Huff Power. He asked why I was going back so soon. I told him I was anxious to return by the time I had been told to. He said I only needed to go as far as the next plantation. He had sold me that day to Edwin Epps. We walked down into the yard, where we met Epps. He examined me and asked me the usual questions buyers asked. After I was formally handed over, I was ordered to the quarters. I was also told to make a hoe handle and an axe handle for myself.

I was now no longer the property of Tibeats—his dog, his brute, dreading his wrath and cruelty day and night; and whoever or whatever my new master might prove to be, I could not, certainly, regret the change. So it was good news when the sale was announced, and with a sigh of relief I sat down for the first time in my new abode.

I was no longer Tibeats’s property, his dog, his brute, fearing his anger and cruelty day and night. Whoever or whatever my new master might turn out to be, I certainly could not regret the change. So the announcement of the sale was good news. With a sigh of relief, I sat down for the first time in my new home.

Tibeats soon after disappeared from that section of the country. Once afterwards, and only once, I caught a glimpse of him. It was many miles from Bayou Bœuf. He was seated in the doorway of a low groggery. I was passing, in a drove of slaves, through St. Mary's parish.

Tibeats soon left that part of the country. After that, I caught a glimpse of him only once. It was many miles from Bayou Bœuf. He was sitting in the doorway of a cheap bar. I was passing through St. Mary's parish in a group of slaves.