Slave Life in Georgia - African American History

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Slave Life in Georgia 36 man screaming till he could not scream any longer. The punishment was awful, and it otherwise dreadfully injured him. However, after a long time, he got over it. Another day he was sent for something to the still-house. Stevens was there and spoke to him, but Primus did not hear him. Stevens snatched up a barrel-stave, and immediately dealt him such a blow, that he fell like an ox. He laid there senseless for full two hours. Stevens got alarmed, and taking out his knife, cut him across the arm, to make him bleed. Billy threw whiskey in his face, and at last he came to, but he did not recover himself for several days. He always was subject to fits after that, and used to go about as though he was half foolish. I am sure I wonder now he Page 68 was not quite a lunatic with such horrible treatment. Two years after, he was quite "a done up nigger;" and Stevens finding him useless, gave him to his sonin-law, Billy Gay. He died three years after, in a fit. I might add many other instances of cruel usage of slaves, but I have perhaps stated enough for the present. It may be thought that the female slaves are perhaps, as a rule, less badly treated. This is not the case. Men and women, boys and girls, receive the same kind of punishments, or I would say rather, that the same kind of tortures are inflicted upon them. I know full well that women in a state of pregnancy are not spared from the infliction of the most dreadful scourgings, with the cow-hide, the bull-whip, and the cobbing-paddle. Thousands of them never bring their burden into the world, and numbers of negro infants are overlaid and smothered by their mothers at night, in consequence of their having been overworked in the day. Mrs. Stowe has told something about Slavery. I think she must know a great deal more than she has told. I know more than I dare to tell. Page 69 CHAPTER VIII. I MAKE AN ATTEMPT TO ESCAPE. HOW IT ENDED. 24.03.2006
Slave Life in Georgia 37 DE CATOR STEVENS, my new master, to whom I had been willed, turned out to be a good deal worse than his father. He was naturally a stupid man, and had received no education to brighten him up. Under him we all led a terrible life. My mind had long been made up to run away. I was constantly dwelling on what John Glasgow had told me about freedom, and England, and becoming a man. During my old master's lifetime, I had frequently hidden away in the woods and swamps; sometimes for a few days only, at others for a fortnight at a stretch; and once for a whole month. I used to sneak out at night from my hiding-place and steal corn, fruit, and such like. As long as it lasted, the release from the severe labour put upon me was quite grateful and though I always got cruelly flogged on my return, the temptation to get a rest this way was too great to be resisted. It may be asked why I Page 70 did not go right off when once I had made a start. I may as well tell the truth. I was frightened to take a long journey. I did not know the country, but I did know that if my master caught me and brought me back, I should get perhaps paddled or scourged nearly to death. I was, nevertheless, always on the look-out for a fair chance of escaping, and treasured up in my memory such scraps of information as I could draw out of the people that came to the plantation; especially the new hands. De Cator Stevens did not like to sell me, because I was too valuable to him. He used to say of me, that nothing came amiss to me; and in this, for once, he told the truth; for I may say, without unduly boasting, that at farming, at carpentering, and at any and all kinds of labour, I was a match for any two hands he could bring against me. In fact, I could and used to do two men's work, when I returned from my lying-out. At such times I could only compare myself to a man gone lunatic. Knowing Stevens would not sell me, and having made up my mind to suffer any amount of flogging, I grew defiant of my master, but I determined I would be killed in defending myself if he should use me too hard. I also took to studying his Page 71 countenance, until I became so accustomed to its expression and to his ways, that I could always tell whether he intended mischief. At such times I would get out of the way. The older I grew, and the stronger, the less fearful I became; and then I noticed that my master got frightened of me, lest I should run away. All this, however, did not save my poor back; but whenever Stevens wanted to spite 24.03.2006
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Slave Life in Georgia - African American History

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