Slave Life in Georgia - African American History

Slave Life in Georgia 44
24.03.2006
under a system of cheating, and lying, and deceit, and being taught no better, we
grew up in it, and did not see the wrong of it, so long as we were not acting
against one another. I am sure that, as a rule, any one of us who would have
thought nothing of stealing a hog, or a sack of corn, from our master, would
have allowed himself to be cut to pieces rather than betray the confidence of his
fellow-slave; and, perhaps, my mentioning this fact may be taken as a set-off
against the systematic deception we practised, in self-defence, on our master.
Having made up my mind now to cheat Stevens into a good opinion of me, I
took to answering him very humbly, and pretended to be frightened of him.
Every thing he bade me do, I did, until at length he got to think the last flogging
he had given me, had done me good, and made me submissive. Then he would
chuckle and crow over me, thinking it a great victory to
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have succeeded, as he thought, in breaking down my spirit. Indeed, the
experiment in my case seemed so satisfactory, that he thought he would try it on
two rather unruly "boys" named Alfred and Harry. One day he sent them to
catch four mules which were loose in the stable. This was only a pretext, for he
beckoned me to him, and we followed them in. When we were in, he set his
back against the door, and, drawing a bit of cord from under his coat, told me to
catch the "boys," as he intended to flog them. As soon as they saw what he was
after, they began dodging round and under the mules, I trying my hardest to lay
hold of them. The mules, in running, rubbed against De Cator, and pushed him
away from the door, which was no sooner open, than boys and mules bolted,
Master swearing at me for letting them get away, and declaring that I had done
so for the purpose. I told him I had done just the contrary; but in spite of all I
could say, he got into a towering rage, and as I was going out at the door, leaped
on my back, holding me fast round the neck, and calling out to Aunt Sally--one
of the old negro women--to bring him down his gun. Aunt Sally ran into the
house, and presently I saw her come out of it, holding
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up the gun that my master's father had shot poor Morgan with. I do not know
whether De Cator intended to shoot me, but I know I became dreadfully
alarmed, and without being scarcely aware of what I did, I tipped him down off
my shoulders, and he fell to the ground, severely hurting his neck. I immediately
took to my heels and escaped into the wood near the plantation I staid here all