The Bondwoman's Narrative (21 page)

Without consulting her husband, or informing her children, she retired with Ellen to a private room, cut off her long beautiful
hair, and disguised her in the garments of a boy. Then leaving a note for her family, she ordered her carriage, mounted it
took Ellen by her side and drove away.

Unfortunately, however, the flight of Ellen was immediately discovered by her master. He traced her to the dwelling of Mrs
Wright, and there discovered her beautiful hair and cast-off garments, ascertained, too, that the good lady had taken a boy
into her carriage and driven away. They followed with all speed, overtook and arrested her, carried Ellen back and sent Mrs
Wright to jail. She was tried for kidnapping convicted and sentenced to a long imprisonment.

Thus the matron was torn from her home, the wife from her husband, the mother from her children for no crime but yeilding
to the dictates of humanity. For a time she brooded in hopeless sorrow, and to aggravate her punishment as much as possible
she was doomed to a solitary cell, and forbidden
the society of her husband and c
to receive the visits of her husband and children. Even the comforting influences of nature were withdrawn. The sunshine,
the free winds, the blessed face of heaven were denied her. For two long weary years she only beheld one human face, and that
one the jailer[’]s. Then, wherefore wonder that her mind failed? or that premature age and imbecility stultified her faculties,
and she became little better than an idiot?

At length their resentment softened in some degree. Little by little she was allowed more light, more air, and more liberty.
Meanwhile an epidemic ravaged the country; her husband and children all died, her property passed into other hands, and she
ceased to be spoken of even by those who had experienced the most of her kindness.

By constant habit and association likewise her
home had
prison had become pleasant. She connected it with ideas of home, a home that the state with great trouble and expense prepared
for her, even as it makes provision for its acknowledged head.

All this she told me, bowing and smiling in a way that would have been diverting, had I not reflected on all she must have
suffered before her mind gave way.

“I used to hate slavery” she continued “born in a slave state, educated in a slave state, with slavery all the time before
my eyes I could see no beauties in the system. Yet they said it was beautiful, and many thought me a fool for not seeing it
so, but somehow I couldn’t; no I couldn’t” and the old creature sighed.

“Have you ever seen it so?” I inquired.

With a bow and a smile, a peculiar turn of the head and twist of the eye as much as to indicate that she did not tell any
longer all she or [sic] knew she said

[“]Oh you must not ask me such questions, indeed you must not. It might involve us in a great deal of trouble. I have learned
what all who live in a land of slaver[y] must learn sooner or later; that is to profess approbation where you cannot feel
it; to be hard when most inclined to melt; and to say that all is right, and good; and true when you know that nothing could
be more wrong and unjust.[”]

I have done judgement, and justice; leave me not to my oppressors.

D
AVID

An accumulation of misfortunes, differing in cause and character distract and divert the mind by their contrary operation.
Thus a change however painful may prove an essential benefit. After our imprisonment the insanity of my beloved mistress assumed
a milder character, and finally sunk into a sort of meloncholy. She would sit for hours watching the motions of a spider,
or waiting the appearance of a mouse. I strove to draw her out in conversation, tried to amuse or interest her, but in vain.
A physician had been summoned to her aid, by whom I never knew. He said that time and quiet would effect her cure, ordered
the jailer to
permit her
allow her all necessary indulgences, and to furnish her with books and other means to enliven her solitude. Was it humanity
or policy that prompted them to obey.

We now had the range of an apartment which contained two or three windows, that though heavily grated, admitted light and
air and sufficed to give a limited view of the street. This was a great improvement in our condition. We could see
the bright shar
softly smiling between the bars the quiet and beautiful stars; the moonbeams sometimes checkered our floor, and the
free
winds lavished a tribute of flower-scents from the groves and fields.

Hitherto we had seen nothing of Mr Trappe. Once or twice, indeed, I had just caught a glimpse of a rusty black coat that reminded
me of him, but the idea that he was hovering near us, modulating the degrees of our torture, and waiting till circumstances
should admit his striking with most effect, took firm possession of my brain. Then, too, we often received little presents
from som[e]body; good clothes had been provided us, though whence they came, and at whose instance we were still confined
in the prison remained alike mysteries. But I determined to sound the jailer. That individual had become social and even communicative.
Notwithstanding the repulsiveness of his appearance there was something genial and clever in the man. Long habits of association
with the vile, and accustomed to witness all the varied exhibitions of possible depravity his manners were uncouth and awkward,
his speech always rough and sometimes harsh,
yet beneath
his countenance expressive of anything but gentleness, yet beneath this unpromising exterior, like the pearl in the unseemly
shell of the oyster was concealed a really kind and obliging disposition. One day he came in with a small present of fruits
and sweet meats.

“These are really delicious” I observed. “Will you permit Mrs Wright to share them with us?”

He shook his head mysteriously.

“Why not, pray?”

Because it would be contrary to orders.

“At least I may ask whence you received them?”

“Which, the orders, or the sweetmeats?”

“Both.”

Another shake.

“Well sir” I observed “I can describe the man exactly. He is rather
aged, though he has only a matured look. His eyes are
very keen and black; he wears a suit of black like himself old but well-kept; he has a sort of stealthy pace as if feeling
the way before him, and he is a lawyer.”

The fellow grinned, and said “You’ve hit it.”

“And he sent us these clothes” I continued “he is always hovering near us; he comes to the prison at least once a day.”

“Once a week” said the jailer correcting my last sentence. “He was awfully concerned about the other one. He said that she
could be cured, that she must be cured, or it would be as good as two thousand dollars out of his pocket. He told the doctor
so I heard him.”

“The wretch” I muttered half unconsciously.

[“]He fears that she will lose her beauty, and then,[”] continued the jailer “she would be much less valuable.”

Could the heart of a man be capable of such depravity. All these little favors that might be interpreted as symptoms of regard
proceeded from the most selfish the most detestable policy. In the power of such a man we had nothing to hope.

I cannot tell how long we remained in the prison, or in what season my mistress began to exhibit symptoms of decided improvement.
Slowly and gradually the clouds cleared from her mind, and she regained the full exercise of her mental faculties. The past
seemed all like a dark deep dream over which she wept and shuddered, but her very soul revolted at the future before her.

The jailer came in one morning and announced “good news.” Mrs Wright as usual smiling and bowing inquired “if it was for her?”

“It is for these” he answered, pointing to us “you are to get yourselves ready to leave the prison.”

“And whither are we going?”

“Wherever your master directs of course.[”]

However I was delighted with the idea of being once more at large, of revelling in the free wild winds, and possessing even
that share of liberty allotted to a slave. Mechanically my dear companion rose. Mrs Wright bade us farewell with a formal
ceremony of bowing, curtisying and shaking hands. Bade us receive her blessing, hope we would be very happy, and ended by
declaring how happy she should be, and how much she should think herself honored by receiving a visit from us at some future
time.

“Oh get along old lady” said the jailer “your [you’re] tiresome, come: come.”

We glided along the passages, slowly descended the
windy
winding staircase, and stood in the vestibule of the prison. “Here they be” said the jailer addressing a sharp-looking man,
who regarded us intently for a moment or two.

“These are the birds, then, eh; faith they be pretty ones” he said, approaching us with a familiar demonstration.

We retreated a step or two.

“I see” said the man “that they don’t incline to be gentle; and now, good ladies” he continued “just let me tell you what’s
what. I am about to carry you away from this place, agre[e]ably to the commands of your present owner. I want to do so without
noise or disturbance. I don’t want to employ violence of any kind. You need not be nervous or apprehensive as no harm will
be offered you, unless indeed you attempt to escape, and then, I have this” and he displayed the handle of a revolver.

“They’re sensible women” said the jailer. “You’ll have no occasion for that.[”]

“Can’t tell” returned the man. “Nothing like being prepared. And now, my dears, pray sit down on that step.”

“Why should we sit down there?” inquired my companion.

“Because I tell you to, if for no other reason” returned the man. “Now I want to treat you well, if you will let me. I should
like to
be polite if I can under the circumstances. If I can’t that’s another thing, but whether I am so, or otherwise depends
on you. So now I command you to set down there.”

“You’re wrong there, Hayes” said the jailer. “I have had some little experience of mankind, and human nature that you will
allow—and I have always found that the simplest request
has more power to obtain what you
goes farther than the loudest command. If a woman is stubborn or obstinate ask her as a favor, coax her, flatter her and
my word for it she’ll be pliable as wax in your hands.”

“They must mind me either way” answered Hayes.

To me, who had been all my life a slave the idea of obedience was not repulsive, but it galled exceedingly the proud spirit
of my companion. I saw from her countenance that she was inclined to rebel, but prudence finally triumphed, and she complied.

“And you, too, by her side there” continued Hayes.

I sat down.

“Now you behave something like” he said. “And just for no other reason in the world than to prevent your being exposed to
the temptation of running away, and me from being obliged to shoot you I must put these manacles on your feet. Just thrust
them out a little further, hold still. I shall not hurt you.”

My companion was deeply affected with a mingled sense of shame, horror, and indignation.

“Why, bless my soul” said Hay[e]s. “This is nothing, nothing at all. I’ve often seen women as proud and handsome as you subjected
to much worse treatment. Now hold out your hands.”

Again we complied as resistance would have been worse than useless.

He clasped handcuffs on our wrists.

“Now get up.”

We rose manacled together.

The jailer opened the prison door, and Hay[e]s conducted us to the wagon, our chains clanking at every step. Sinking down
in the bottom of the vehicle we remained in gloomy silence. That our meditations were of the most painful character no one
can doubt. In the language of the prophet “the thing we greatly feared had come upon us.” Our situation even precluded hope,
that balm to so many sorrows, but we had at least one comforting assurance. We knew that God was with us, and that when earthly
friends and protectors failed we should find in Him a sure and certain refuge.

“Are you comfortable” said Hay[e]s turning sharply round. “I mean are you cold, or dry, or hungry?”

Thus recalled to myself, as my companion said nothing I answered for both that we were neither dry nor hunger[sic].

“But you are cold, you look cold. Now wrap up well in this” and he threw a large buffalo robe towards us. “Or stay. I will
do it for you” he said, suddenly recollecting our manacled hands.

And with apparent kindness, he tucked the warm furs about us, told us to keep a good heart, and not be disconcerted at trifles.
[“]I’ve had my orders to make you comfortable and I mean to do so, if I can.”

But we were not comfortable, with the past behind us, the dark the dreadful future before us, and the present the bitterest
and darkest of all.

Had we been less confused and troubled our ride would probably have been pleasant. The sharp frosty air was clear and bracing,
and the sunshine had a warm summer time look, really delightful. Then, too, the country through which we passed had such a
cheerful appearance with rickyards, milestones, farm houses, wagons, swinging signs, horse troughs, trees, fields, fences,
and the thousand other things that make a country landscape. Our conductor stopped once or twice to look at the advertisements
which were stuck up on wide boards at the corners of the roads, and which
with large black letters on a red or yellow [back]ground
made a most conspicuous appearance.

I inquired to what they referred when he informed me that there was to be a great sale of slaves on the morrow.
of which
[“]Oh:
you needn’t tremble and turn pale” he continued. “I am not taking you there.”

On several occasions he stopped and got out at little country inns; went familiarly into the bar-rooms laughed, chatted; took
something to drink, and generally came out with something warm and good for us, a little aniseed or toddy, that he entreated
us to drink holding the glass, to our lips, and telling us how much better we should feel for it, always saying in conclusion
“I’ve had orders to make you comfortable, and I’m bound to do so if I can.”