The Bondwoman's Narrative (49 page)

Regarding textual matters, the narrative employs many polysyllabic words, artistic phrasings, and classical allusions, and
yields a readability level of eleventh grade (by today’s standards) although there are occasional spelling errors. There is
evidence of fictionalization, despite the authorial preface denying any “pretensions to romance.”

Nevertheless, southern geographical and other references seem to ring true, as does the pre–Civil War setting. Mention of
“the equestrian statue of Jackson” demonstrates the narrative could not have been completed earlier than 1853, and the omission
of any reference to secession or war—together with the preface’s phrase “Fugitive Slave Recently Escaped …”—makes no sense
unless written by 1861. Also credible is the author’s point of view and insights as a young, Christian, African-American woman.

Considerable evidence indicates that
The Bondwoman’s Narrative
is an authentic manuscript of circa 1853–1861. A specific mention of “the equestrian statue of Jackson” in Washington demonstrates
that the work could not have been completed before 1853, and the omission of any reference to secession or the Civil War makes
no logical sense unless it was written prior to those events. Other references in the text as well as indications from the
language are also consistent with this period. No anachronisms were found to point to a later time of composition.

It was apparently written by a relatively young, African-American woman who was deeply religious and had obvious literary
skills, although eccentric punctuation and occasional misspellings suggest someone who struggled to become educated. Her handwriting
is a serviceable rendering of a period-style script known as modified round hand (the fashion of ca. 1840–1865). She wrote
more for legibility than speed, and was right handed.

Her writing accoutrements are also consistent with the 1850s. They included quill pens and a pen knife, iron-gall ink, stationery
folios (i.e. folded sheets, including those with embossments from the Southworth paper company), an ink-eraser knife (unless
she did double duty with her pen knife), a sander or sand-box (filled with common sand) used to blot ink, a box of vermilion
wafers (paste discs) used to attach correction slips, that were usually cut from discarded leaves with small scissors. She
probably had a paper knife (to slit an occasional folded sheet into two leaves). Apparently lacking a seal (to impress the
paper over wafers to make a better bond), she seems to have employed a thimble for the purpose (leaving a distinctive pattern
of raised dots). Finally, she seems to have used an ordinary needle and thread to sew the pages together (the volume’s current
professional binding having been done much later).

The combination of writing materials and apparent sewing tools used in the manuscript suggests they were kept in close proximity,
as at the desk or sewing table or possibly in a portable writing box. These became popular to Victorian ladies in the 1850–1860
period. The common type of the latter, known as a lap desk, opened to provide a sloped writing surface and compartments for
matching inkwell and sander, pens, etc. (See photograph in Nickell 1990, p. 149). There were even combined writing and sewing
boxes for ladies, as well as multipurpose “trinket” and “work” boxes (Jenkins 1963).

The findings in this report should be viewed in light of additional historical investigation that is being conducted externally
by Professor Gates. Although I am confident of the 1853–1861 date estimate, should documentary evidence seem to conflict with
it then both should subsequently be reevaluated to determine the true facts.

If a document should come to light that is thought to bear the signature or other handwriting of “Hannah Crafts,” it should
be compared with the writing of the narrative to determine whether they are indeed by the same person. This comparison must
be done by an expert familiar with the handwriting of the period, since lay persons typically mistake
class
characteristics for
individual
ones (Nickell 1996, pp. 25–29).

The Bondwoman’s Narrative
is a valuable manuscript and should be preserved. Subject to the expert opinion of a professional conservationist, I recommend
placing a loose sheet of acid-buffering paper inside both the front and back of the volume, inserted between the flyleaf and
title page in the first place and between the last page of the original manuscript and flyleaf in the second instance. This
would be to prevent the flyleaves—which are probably wood-pulp paper and quite acidic—from further degrading the historic
manuscript.

On the verso of a pasted-over slip on page 138 are the following seven lines (with unreadable portions indicated by ellipsis
points):

1. Their misfortunes are nothing to me except I can take

2. advantage of them to promote my own views[.] I have

3. not [ma]de the laws under the operation of which …

4. -ful men may be sold like sheep[.] I only con … to …

5. the … duce them to practice[.] If such women …

6. sold is rather the fault of the law that permits

7. than of me who may perchance buy or even sell …

Note the similarity to text on pp. 122–123.

Baker, Robert A., and Joe Nickell. 1992.
Missing Pieces: How to Investigate Ghosts, UFOs, Psychics, & Other Mysteries.
Buffalo, N.Y.: Prometheus Books, 226–227.

Bowen, Craigen W. 2001. Letter report (from Straus Center for Conservation, Harvard University Art Museum) to Henry L. Gates,
April 5.

Bovée, Courtland L., and John V. Thill. 1989.
Business Communication Today,
second ed. New York: Random House, pp. 125–126.

Cahoon, Herbert, Thomas V. Lange, and Charles Ryskamp. 1977.
American Literary Autographs from Washington Irving to Henry James.
New York: Dover.

The Chicago Manual of Style,
fourteenth ed. 1993. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, p. 325ff.

Feigen, Michelle. 2001. “African-Americana Sales a Stunner at Swann’s and Other Dealers,”
The Manuscript Society News,
Vol. XXII, No. 2, pp. 56–59.

Douglass, Frederick. 1845.
Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass an American Slave Written by Himself.
Reprinted and edited by Benjamin Quarles, Cambridge, Mass.: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1979.

Jenkins, Dorothy H. 1963.
A Fortune in the Junk Pile: A Guide to Valuable Antiques that May Be Found in Attics, Cellars, etc.
New York: Crown Publishers, pp. 343–346.

Kennedy, Ed. 2001. Southworth Paper representative, interviewed by Henry Louis Gates, Jr., April 30.

Nickell, Joe. 1990.
Pen, Ink & Evidence: A Study of Writing and Writing Materials for the Penman, Collector, and Document Detective.
Reprinted New Castle, Delaware: Oak Knoll Press, 2000.

———. 1991. “Erasures and Corrections in Historic Documents: An Overview,” paper presented to 49th Annual Conference of the
American Society of Questioned Document Examiners, Lake Buena Vista, Fla., August 3–8.

———. 1993. “Stationers’ Crests: A Catalog of More than 200 Embossed Paper Marks 1835–1901,”
Manuscripts,
vol. XLV, No. 3, Summer, pp. 199–216.

———. 1996.
Detecting Forgery: Forensic Investigation of Documents.
Lexington, Ky.: University Press of Kentucky.

The Oxford English Dictionary, The Compact Edition of.
1971. New York: Oxford University Press.

“Panama Canal.” 1960.
Encyclopaedia Britannica.

“Railways.” 1960.
Encyclopaedia Britannica.

Rendell, Kenneth W. 2001. Letter report to Laurence Kirshbaum, Chairman, Time Warner Trade Publishing, April 26.

Shurr, William H. 1983.
The Marriage of Emily Dickinson.
Lexington, Ky.: The University Press of Kentucky, pp. 1–2.

The World Almanac and Book of Facts.
1999. Mahwah, New Jersey: World Almanac Books, p. 516.

“I can’t tell my exact age; I guess I am about 25; I was born in Washington City; lived there this New-Year’s, if I shall
live to see it, two years; I came to Philadelphia about two months ago.

I came with Col. Wheeler; I brought my two children, one aged 10, and the other a year or so younger; we went to Mr. Sully’s
and got something to eat; we then went to the wharf, then into the hotel.

Col. Wheeler told me to stay on the upper porch and did not let me go to dinner, and sent by the servants some dinner to me,
but I did not desire any; after dinner he asked me if I had dinner; I told him I wanted none; while he was at dinner I saw
a colored woman, and went to her and told her I was a slave woman traveling with a very curious gentleman, who did not want
me to have anything to do or say to colored persons; she said she was sorry for me; I said nothing more; then I went back
and took my seat where I had been ordered by Col. Wheeler; he had told me not to talk to colored persons; to tell everybody
I was traveling with a minister going to Nicaragua; he seemed to think I might be led off; he did not tell me I could be free
if I wanted to when I got to Philadelphia; on the boat he said he would give me my freedom; he never said so before; I had
made preparations before leaving Washington to get my freedom in New York; I made a suit to disguise my self in—they had never
seen me wear it—to escape in when I got to New York; Mr. Wheeler has that suit in his possession, in my trunk; I wasn’t willing
to come without my children; for I wanted to free them; I have been in Col. Wheeler’s family nearly two years; he bought me
from a gentleman of Richmond—a Mr. Crew; he was not a member of Col. Wheeler’s family; Col. Wheeler was not more than half
an hour at dinner; he came to look at me from the dinner-table, and found me where he had left me; I did not ask leave of
absence at Bloodgood’s Hotel; while Col. Wheeler went on board the boat a colored man asked me did I want to go with Col.
W.; I told him “No, I do not;” at 9 o’clock that night he said he would touch the telegraph for me and some one [sic] would
meet me at New York; I said I was obliged to him; no more was said then; I had never seen the man before; when Col. Wheeler
took me on board he took me on the upper deck and sat us down alongside of him. While sitting there I saw a colored man and
a white one; the white man beckoned me to come to him; the colored man asked did I desire my freedom; the white man approached
Mr. W. and said he desired to tell me my rights; Mr. W. said, “My woman knows her rights;” they told me to go with them; he
held out his hand but did not touch mine, and I immediately arose to go with him; I took my oldest boy by the hand; the youngest
was picked up by some people and became very alarmed, and I proceeded off the boat as quickly as I could, being perfectly
willing and desirous to go; Mr. Wheeler tried to stop me, no one else; he tried to get before me as though he wanted to talk
to me; I wanted to get off the boat, and didn’t listen to what he had to say. I did not say I did not want my freedom; I have
always wanted it; I did not say I wanted to go with my master; I went very willingly to the carriage, I was very glad to go;
the little boy said he wanted to go to his massa, he was frightened; I did not say I wanted to go to Col. Wheeler; there was
no outcry of any kind, my little boy made all the noise that was made.”

(
The Case of Passmore
Williamson, 1855)

“Jane Johnson being sworn, makes oath and says—
“My name is Jane— Jane Johnson; I was the slave of Mr. Wheeler of Washington; he bought me and my two children, about two
years ago, of Mr. Cornelius Crew, of Richmond, Va.; my youngest child is between six and seven years old, the other between
ten and eleven; I have one other child only, and he is in Richmond; I have not seen him for about two years; never expect
to see him again; Mr. Wheeler brought me and my two children to Philadelphia, on the way to Nicaragua, to wait on his wife;
I didn’t want to go without my two children, and he consented to take them; we came to Philadelphia by the cars; stopped at
Mr. Sully’s, Mr. Wheeler’s father-in-law, a few moments; then went to the steamboat for New York at 2 o’clock, but were too
late; we went into Bloodgood’s Hotel; Mr. Wheeler went to dinner; Mr. Wheeler had told me in Washington to have nothing to
say to colored persons, and if any of them spoke to me, to say I was a free woman traveling with a minister; we staid [sic]
at Bloodgood’s till 5 o’clock; Mr. Wheeler kept his eye on me all the time except when he was at dinner; he left his dinner
to come and see if I was safe, and then went back again; while he was at dinner, I saw a colored woman and told her I was
a slave woman, that my master had told me not to speak to colored people, and that if any of them spoke to me to say that
I was free; but I am not free; but I want to be free; she said: ‘poor thing, I pity you;’ after that I saw a colored man and
said the same thing to him, he said he would telegraph to New York, and two men would meet me at 9 o’clock and take me with
them; after that we went on board the boat, Mr. Wheeler sat beside me on the deck; I saw a colored gentleman come on board,
he beckoned to me; I nodded my head, and could not go; Mr. Wheeler was beside me and I was afraid; a white gentleman then
came and said to Mr. Wheeler, ‘I want to speak to your servant, and tell her of her rights;’ Mr. Wheeler rose and said, ‘If
you have anything to say, say it to me— she knows her rights;’ the white gentleman asked me if I wanted to be free; I said
‘I do, but I belong to this gentleman and I can’t have it;’ he replied, ‘Yes, you can, come with us, you are as free as your
master, if you want your freedom come now; if you go back to Washington you may never get it;’ I rose to go, Mr. Wheeler spoke,
and said, ‘I will give you your freedom,’ but he had never promised it before, and I knew he would never give it to me; the
white gentleman held out his hand and I went toward him; I was ready for the word before it was given me; I took the children
by the hands, who both cried, for they were frightened, but both stopped when they got on shore; a colored man carried the
little one, I led the other by the hand. We walked down the street till we got to a hack; nobody forced me away; nobody pulled
me, and nobody led me; I went away of my own free will; I always wished to be free and meant to be free when I came North;
I hardly expected it in Philadelphia, but I thought I should get free in New York; I have been comfortable and happy since
I left Mr. Wheeler, and so are the children; I don’t want to go back; I could have gone in Philadelphia if I had wanted to;
I could go now; but I had rather die than go back. I wish to make this statement before a magistrate, because I understand
that Mr. Williamson is in prison on my account, and I hope the truth may be of benefit to him.”