The Kidnapped And The Ransomed Part 18

I've had Jinny and Jacob whipped well, but they wont own any thing about it. I shall have to try the others!'

" 'Jinny,' says Ma.s.s'r, 'what about that s.h.i.+rt of mine?[']

" 'Missus has whipped me 'bout that s.h.i.+rt, sir,' says Jinny, 'an' I don't know no more 'bout whar it is an' you does yourself.'

" 'Well, go 'long,' says he, 'but mind, Jinny, you've got that to find.'

"All the house servants got whipped 'bout it, but none of 'em didn't take so much as Jinny; and they had every house in the quarter searched. There was more'n five hundred blows struck 'bout that s.h.i.+rt, and they never found no sign of it.

"Two or three weeks after, old Ma.s.s'r come into the field to whar we's plowin'! He tried some o' the other women's ploughs, and then he come to me. 'Well, girl,' says he, 'how does your plough run?[']

" 'Oh! it runs well enough,' says I.

" 'Let me try it,' says he.

" 'I don't want n.o.body a holdin' my plough'', says I.

" 'The devil you don't!' I see he's gittin' mad; so I stepped back and drapped the line. He cotch it, and ploughed a few rods. 'What you think now,' says he 'of a servant fightin' her master?'

" 'What you think, sir, 'bout a Ma.s.s'r doin' his servants that way?'

says I. 'You see 'em misbehave with any body else, and you'd whip 'em sure![']

" 'Yes, but I'm your master.'

" 'That don't make no difference to me, sir,' says I. 'How could you see your poor house servants cut up so 'bout that s.h.i.+rt, and you knowin' whar it was all the time? I b'lieve I'll go up this very night, and tell 'em all about it.'

" 'By G--d,' says he, 'I wish you would. I'd like to have you tell it, I'd give you the devil.'

"But I didn't have no notion o' tellin'! They had storms enough without havin' any 'bout me, and I knowed I could allers keep him away by fightin' him. I liked to fight him a little, anyhow, he's so mean. If I'd told, I'd allers had Missus agin me, and they mought 'a'

sold me away from my family, and that would 'a' been the end o'

me."

Vina's wisdom in refraining from reporting to her mistress, may be inferred from the following incident, with the circ.u.mstances of which she was well acquainted.

Jinny, the cook, had a young daughter named Maria. She was small of her age, a bright mulatto, and uncommonly pretty; and her mistress had always kept her about the house.

One morning, when Maria was about thirteen years old, the mistress called her to perform some little service, but she did not answer. She sent to the kitchen, but she was not there, and, thinking she had perhaps fallen asleep somewhere in the house, the lady proceeded to look for her in the different rooms. She opened the parlor door, and there was the child-- with her master.

All the fierceness of her nature was aroused. Her husband immediately mounted his horse, and rode off to escape the storm; though well he knew that its full fury would fall upon the young head of his victim.

The enraged woman seized the trembling child and put her in a buck. Then she whipped her till she was tired, but not satisfied; for as soon as she had rested her weary arms, she flew at her again, and after beating her till she had exhausted her own strength a second time, she shut her up in the brick smoke-house.

The matter was no secret, for she told the story to all the servants, and to every one else who chanced to come to the house while her wrath was burning.

For two weeks she kept the poor girl constantly imprisoned there, except that every day she took her out long enough to whip her.

She gave her nothing to eat or drink, and all the light or air that could enter the gloomy place came through the small holes that were left by the builders to admit air to the bacon. Through these, Jinny, when she could steal an opportunity, pa.s.sed small pieces of bread, and a little water in a vial, that her child might not die of hunger.

Some of the elderly servants, expostulated with their mistress, and even hinted that Maria was but a child, and that it was "ma.s.s'r"

that was to blame. "She'll know better in future," was the stern reply; "after I've done with her, she'll never do the like again through ignorance."

"But she'll die, missus, if you keeps her shut up thar much longer."

"That's just what I want; I hope she will die."

The poor child grew very thin and pale, and sometimes, when she was taken out to receive her daily whipping she could hardly stand.

"O missus," said she one day, "if you whips me any more it will kill me."

"That's just what I want; I hope it will;" was the only reply. But some merciful angel restrained her cruel arm for that one day, and she thrust her back without beating her.

"Please, missus, wont you let me have a drink of water?" said the child, as the door was once more about to close upon her.

"No; not a drop of water shall you have, nor a mouthful to eat;"

and she shut the door upon the youthful sufferer.

After she had kept her thus imprisoned for two weeks, her eldest son, Master Charles, came from Louisiana on a visit. To him his mother told the story of Maria's depravity, and begged him to take her away with him. "Sell her," said she, "to the hardest master you can find, for, if she stays here, I shall certainly kill her."

Master Charles readily a.s.sented to his mother's proposal, and proceeded at once to the smoke-house to let Maria out. Poor child, how changed was she from the bright young girl of two weeks before! Her face had now an ashy line, and her large eyes were dull and sunken. Her flesh, too, was all gone; so that she was indeed frightful to look at.

"Why, mother," said the young man, "you must have this girl fattened up or she will never sell, I should be ashamed to offer her for sale looking as she does now."

The mistress went to the kitchen. "Jinny," said she, "I want you to feed my young mistress well, and fatten her for the market."

Poor Jinny was greatly distressed, and as soon as she could find him alone, she begged young Master Charles not to sell her child.

"O Aunt Jinny," said he, "I am not going to sell her. I want to take her home with me, to get her away from the old lady. I shall keep her myself, and I'll take good care of her.

The young man kept his word. He took her to Louisiana, and kept her till she had recovered her health and her good looks. Then he hired her out to a lady of his acquaintance, who taught her to sew, and she became an excellent seamstress. A few years after, when he came home on a visit, he brought her with him that she might see her mother. She was then a large, fine looking woman, so changed from the poor persecuted child that left them, that her friends could scarcely credit her ident.i.ty. Yet, though years had pa.s.sed, she dared not come into the presence of her angered mistress. Master Charles left her at his sister's; and only when her enemy had left the plantation for the day, did Maria venture to steal a visit to her early friends.

CHAPTER XXIII.

PETER'S YEAR AT McKIERNAN'S.

ON the first day of January 1841, Peter commenced his labors on the plantation of Mr. McKiernan. Now came his most intimate acquaintance with the realities of slavery. He had witnessed much suffering both in Kentucky, and also since his removal to Alabama; and had even endured, in his own person, enough to give him some idea of the meaning of the word slave, but never did he comprehend its full, fearful import till he learned it here.

Not that he suffered personal abuse, for aside from two or three violent cursings, he received during the year, no unkind treatment.

This exemption he owed partly to his own cautious avoidance of any act or word that could annoy his irritable master; and partly, no doubt, to the fact that Mr. McKiernan wished to buy him, but was well aware that he could not purchased from the estate of his late master without his own consent. Mrs. Hogun, his former mistress, was still his kindest friend; and though she had now no real authority over any of the slaves except the six that had been allotted to herself, she still possessed great influence with those who managed the estate; and she would never sanction the sale, against his will, of one of her favorite servants. So Mr. McKiernan was wondrous kind to Peter. He employed him during part of the year as moulder in making brick, with the professed intention of building new brick cabins for his people; but to this day the old log huts remain their habitations.

It was not in personal sufferings or privations that Peter found the bitterest woes of slavery. It was the stifling influence of the deep degradation of his race that most oppressed his spirit. The moral malaria of the place filled his blood with hatred of the oppressions by which it was engendered; and his own consciousness of higher aspirations than those indulged who called themselves his masters taught him that, though his skin was black, they were, in truth, beneath him in all that const.i.tutes a man.

But though Peter found much to sadden his spirit while he remained on Mr. McKiernan's place, his constant presence there was a rich blessing to his family.

Vina had now, in addition to the three children we have previously named, a little daughter about three years old. She had, during the autumn of 1883, buried a baby a week old; and little Silas, after remaining with her just one year, was borne away to the hill-side in August, 1836. Again in March, 1840, a little daughter, five months, old, was strangled by the croup.

In July, 1841, another little boy was welcomed to their humble cabin. They called him Bernard, and for three years he remained the pet of all the little household. Then he was seized with spasms--and soon his merry voice was hushed, and his little form grew cold and stiff in death.

The three boys, Peter, Levin and William, were now old enough to work on the plantation, and their obedience and kindness to their mother fully rewarded all the care she had bestowed upon them.

Yet she was forced even now to labor very hard to keep them comfortably clad. She made all their clothes herself, and washed and mended them by night. Their stockings, too, she knit, though she was obliged first to card the wool and spin it. Of this the slaves had usually as much as they needed for stockings, if they could get time to manufacture it. The master had plenty of sheep, and was not in the habit of selling the wool.