The Bondwoman's Narrative (24 page)

Again he began in his cold ironical tone. “You know Hannah that it is a lawyer’s business to give advice.”

“Certainly it is” said Saddler.

I had no voice to speak.

[“]And such being the case I propose to bestow about five dollars’ worth on Hannah, as a parting gift that she can keep by
way of remembrance.[”]

His manner more than his words vexed and irritated me. He seemed so sedately satisfied, so calmly pleased. Passion gave me
strength to speak.

“I want none of your gifts. Were such a thing possible I would forget your name and existence; for I feel that the thought
of you must always be a haunting curse to my memory” and again I burst into tears.

There might have been a slight contraction more than usual on his brow, and a rapid gleam of hate or satisfied malice shone
in his eye, but quickly passed and his countenance became like a frozen lake when lit by moonlight, cold, unimpassioned, and
utterly dead to all feelings of sympathy as he began.

[“]I shall tell you nothing that you are not old enough to know without my telling it. Good sense must long ago have taught
you that obedience was the chief essential to one in your condition— that you must never dream of sitting [sic] up an independent
will—must have no mind, no desire, no purpose of your own. You will find few masters like Mr Vincent, and where you are going
other duties and services, and those perhaps more irksome than those required in his family will be expected of you, but never
for a moment forget that submission and obedience must be the Alpha and Omega of all your actions.”

Though this advice was probably well adapted to one in my condition, that is if I could have forgotten God, truth, honor,
and my own soul; it was manifestly not given with any kind intention. He loved to probe the human heart to its inmost depths,
and watch the manifestations of its living agony. He wished to vary the modes of my mental torture, and to make me realize
that in both soul and body I was indeed a slave.

I turned from the cold icy glitter of his eye, and he went on.

“But whatever you do, whatever you be, or whatever hardships you meet never think of running away. No good could come of it
in any case. You would almost certainly be caught, and if not, you would be certain to perish miserably, perhaps hunted and
torn to pieces by dogs, or perhaps eaten alive by the vultures when reduced
by famine and privation to a dying state. You
must bear what you have to bear, and that’s the long and short of the matter.”

Saying this he really seemed pleased, but miserable as I was, helpless,
hopeless
almost hopeless and a slave I felt that my
condition for eternity if not for time, was perferable to his, and that I would not even for the blessed boon of freedom change
places with him; since even freedom without God and religion would be a barren posession.

“Well I must be off” said Saddler after a short pause.

“Hannah you will go with me?”

His voice was really kind.

“I suppose, Sir, that I must” I answered.

“But don’t you go willingly, don’t you want to go. Why you don’t know what good fortune may be in store for you. Some of my
girls have done first rate. I bought one up here last season, took her to New Orleans, put her in the market, and sold her
to a rich man, who became so much pleased with her person and accomplishments that he has since given her freedom and made
her his wife. What’s happened once may happen again, and I shouldn’t at all wonder if some such good thing was to fall in
your way.”

“Is that the way you flatter your gals?” said Trappe.

“I always coax and flatter first, if that don’t answer I resort to harsher measures.”

“And does it answer?”

[“]For the most part it does; admirably too I have no difficulty, except when there’s a child in the case. Hannah will be
docile as a lamb I know.”

“You’d better put on the cuffs” suggested Trappe. “Make her safe first, comfortable afterwards.”

“No, Trappe I shan’t do it. I never put irons on women unless
they prove refractory. You are going to be good a[i]n’t you
Hannah?”

“Yes Sir” I sobbed.
“I know you will

“There’s no knowing” interposed Trappe.

“Yes there is” answered Saddler. “I believe that Hannah can be trusted. I almost know she can. I see it in her countenance,
and I’ve got eyes that
most ofte
are seldom deceived in the human face.[”]

“Remember, Oh Lord, what is come upon us; consider, and behold our reproach.”

J
EREMIAH

My new master I followed him to the little wagon. Just outside the yard, we got in, and he drove off. My mind was too busily
occupied, and my thoughts too confused and agitated for any close observation of what we passed, or whither we went. I remember,
however that it had been raining for the roads were very slippery, and little ponds of water, and sometimes quite large ones,
were gathered in all the holes and shallow places. But the air was fresh and bracing, and had a fragrant smell of buds and
early flowers.

I remember too that I was quite surprised that spring had so far advanced, and that even my anxiety or sorrow gave way before
a sensation of pleasure awakened by the vernal influences of nature. The lambs were skipping beside the dams, the trees were
alive with the harmony of birds busily engaged in building their nests. We could see them passing and repassing with feathers,
horse-hair and small sticks in their little bills, and it almost brought tears into my eyes to think how free they were, and
how happy they must be. Then I remembered the words of our Saviour that God even noticed the fall of a sparrow, and that the
least of his disciples was of more value than many of them. Soothed by his comforting
assurance my mind became composed, and
I fell into a sort of reverie in which the past, present, and future seemed indistinctly blended. I thought of the stately
mansion of Lindendale, its master and mine, the portrait of Sir Clifford, the Linden tree with its ominous creak; then of
my mistress beautiful, young, and beloved,
after that of her affection
as she appeared on her bridal night; as she looked afterwards worn, weary, and half dead with apprehension, of all we felt
and suffered together in the wilderness, and in prison, of her sudden death, and then I wept, not that she had escaped
from
the tormentor, but that I did not know the place of her burial. It would have been so comforting to associate the idea of
her last resting place with some green spot overswept by soft shadows and adorned with wild flowers. Then by a sudden transition
I thought of the place to which I was going, of the people I should see and serve, what they would say and whether I should
like them and they me. I was recalled to passing events by a sudden start of the horse, and the voice of Saddler calling “to
take care.” I came near falling over at which he laughed and then inquired of what I was thinking.

“I was thinking of many things connected with my past life” I answered.

“It was almost too bad to disturb such a fine train of meditation” he replied. “Had you been long in the service of Mr Trappe?”

I told him that I had not.

“I thought so” he answered. “Trappe never keeps a servant long. He buys only for speculation. He is one of the strangest,
most mysterious, and unfathomable of old gentlemen. I never saw such a man before, tho’ I have seen many hard cases. Why he
has no more feeling than a bit of iron. A tortoise has quite as much sentiment.”

“Have you been acquainted with him?” I asked.

“Why yes for a considerable time I have, though we never had
any intimacy except in the line of our trade. I believe my society
is somewhat repulsive to his aristocratic notions, but I think that my business is quite as respectable as his.”

“I don’t understand you
I said “very likely.”

“I am called a slave-trader—I am one—I know that it is not considered reputable, but I don’t care. I try to deal honest, and
act honorably. I would rather be cheated myself than cheat another. Public opinion is arbitrary and unjust, so I don’t care
for it. Very respectable people, honorable gentlemen, grave Senators, and even the republican Presidents buy slaves; are they
better than I am, who sells them?[”]

“I should suppose not, yet what has that to do with Mr Trappe.”

Without noticing my inquiry he proceeded.

[“]Now strictly speaking Trappe cannot be considered a slave-trader, yet
he is quite
his business is quite essential to trade. Then going around the country as he does, prying into secrets, and watching his
chance, he has all the opportunity in the world to make great bargains. Many a likely wench whom he had bought or obtained
in a private manner and for a mere trifle, I have purchased of him for a good round sum, and sold again, making money by the
operation. Yet few know him for what he is a slave speculator, and still fewer are aware of his true character as a hard uncompromising
grinding man.[”]

“Well, I am beyond his power now” I remarked in
the
a manner of thinking aloud.

“And you needn’t be sorry for it neither” said Saddler. [“]Worse hands, that is more selfish and unfeeling you can scarcely
fall into. But you are getting hungry I should think; at any rate you ought to be, and see here I have got something good.[”]

Saying this he thrust his hand deep into the capacious pocket of his outer garment and drew thence a paper parcel, which he
threw in my lap.

Opening it I found some very nice cake, iced over with sugar, and highly delicious.

“It’s very good, eat” he said again.

Though not hungry, rather than appear insensible to his kindness I ate a small
quantity
.

“Very good isn’t it?” he inquired.

I answered that it was.

“Well now” he continued “do try just to oblige me to look glad and cheery. You will feel better, and I shall feel better.
Don’t you never smile?”

I shook my head and said “not lately.”

“That’s rather bad news” he answered. “I always like to hear my people sing, to have them laugh, and see them jovial and merry.”

At this juncture of the conversation another
carriage
wagon approached and attempted to pass ours. This aroused the temper of Dan,
as Saddler
Saddler’s horse, and throwing his head around, a habit he had, he set off at full speed
Saddler called to him
utterly regardless of the rein or voice of his master. I was surprised and then frightened at his velocity. Trees, houses,
fences seemed to fly past us with the speed of the wind. I heard the ringing of bells, the shouts of people, and the barking
of dogs. Sometimes men came running out, or we obtained a glimpse of women and children standing with uplifted hands before
doors and windows. The people, the voices, and the noise seemed still more to frighten the horse, and though flecked with
foam from flank to nostril, his limbs apparently acquired new vigor with every moment. Up hill and down, along hedges, over
bridges on, on, we flew. At first the horse kept the road admirably; then as we neared a bridge with a high embankment some
of the fastenings broke and he began to plunge and rear. I have an indistinct remembrance of boards flying about in every
direction, of a loud noise, a spinning whirling motion, and then all was darkness. When I came to myself the
scene was changed,
and I almost doubted my identity. I was in a warm pleasant little bed, in a darkened room, and several persons whom I had
no remembrance of ever having seen before were passing in and out. There was one lady with so benevolent a countenance that
my heart warmed towards her as if she were my own mother, my mother whom I had never seen. She was sitting beside me, and
seeing that I partly recovered she approached her sweet face to mine and whispered “Lie still, dear, very still, you have
been badly injured, but are among friends.”

I attempted to reply, but became aware of an overpowering weakness that benumbed all my senses. A mountain seemed seated on
my breast, and I could not stir.

“There, dear” she whispered again “don’t worry or exert yourself. You shall know all in time.”

Presently I ascertained that my arm was bandaged as if some one had been drawing blood. I discovered also that my limbs were
securely
fastened down
splintered and fastened down as in cases of broken bones. The benevolent lady went out, but soon returned with a nourishing
cordial, of which I partook sparingly, and felt greatly revived. I soon became aware that several persons were collected in
an adjoining apartment and I
thought
fancied they spoke of me, of my master, and our horse that ran away. Hearing myself thus spoken of brought back the past,
and I shuddered and grew faint with the remembrance.

Again the benevolent-looking woman was at my side.

“Fear nothing, dear” she said in her pleasant way, and then added suiting the action to the word “Have a little more drink.”
The beverage was cool and refreshing. I would have thanked her, but
my lips refused to give utterance to
the words died on my lips.

I wanted to ask for my master, as the last I remembered was seeing him white as a sheet, holding to the reins, while the horse
was kicking and plunging and the boards flying just on the brink of a
precipice. Again I strove to speak,
but could not
and this time articulated “Master, where?”

The benevolent Lady, whose name I subsequently ascertained to be Mrs. Henry, looked rather surprised and coming close to the
bed again cautioned me to be silent. But I had sufficiently recovered to experience the most intense anxiety, and would not
be put off so.

“Master, where” I cried again and this time in a louder tone.

The attendants whispered among themselves. They were all colored with the exception of Mrs Henry, and one of them going to
that Lady whispered something in her ear, to which she nodded affirmatively.