Slave Life in Georgia - African American History

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
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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
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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