Mary Prince - The History of Mary Prince
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Mary Prince >> The History of Mary Prince
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After Hetty died all her labours fell upon me, in addition to my own. I
had now to milk eleven cows every morning before sunrise, sitting among
the damp weeds; to take care of the cattle as well as the children; and to
do the work of the house. There was no end to my toils--no end to my
blows. I lay down at night and rose up in the morning in fear and sorrow;
and often wished that like poor Hetty I could escape from this cruel
bondage and be at rest in the grave. But the hand of that God whom then I
knew not, was stretched over me; and I was mercifully preserved for better
things. It was then, however, my heavy lot to weep, weep, weep, and that
for years; to pass from one misery to another, and from one cruel master
to a worse. But I must go on with the thread of my story.
One day a heavy squall of wind and rain came on suddenly, and my mistress
sent me round the corner of the house to empty a large earthen jar. The
jar was already cracked with an old deep crack that divided it in the
middle, and in turning it upside down to empty it, it parted in my hand. I
could not help the accident, but I was dreadfully frightened, looking
forward to a severe punishment. I ran crying to my mistress, "O mistress,
the jar has come in two." "You have broken it, have you?" she replied;
"come directly here to me." I came trembling; she stripped and flogged me
long and severely with the cow-skin; as long as she had strength to use
the lash, for she did not give over till she was quite tired.--When my
master came home at night, she told him of my fault; and oh, frightful!
how he fell a swearing. After abusing me with every ill name he could
think of, (too, too bad to speak in England,) and giving me several heavy
blows with his hand, he said, "I shall come home to-morrow morning at
twelve, on purpose to give you a round hundred." He kept his word--Oh sad
for me! I cannot easily forget it. He tied me up upon a ladder, and gave
me a hundred lashes with his own hand, and master Benjy stood by to count
them for him. When he had licked me for some time he sat down to take
breath; then after resting, he beat me again and again, until he was quite
wearied, and so hot (for the weather was very sultry), that he sank back
in his chair, almost like to faint. While my mistress went to bring him
drink, there was a dreadful earthquake. Part of the roof fell down, and
every thing in the house went--clatter, clatter, clatter. Oh I thought the
end of all things near at hand; and I was so sore with the flogging, that
I scarcely cared whether I lived or died. The earth was groaning and
shaking; every thing tumbling about; and my mistress and the slaves were
shrieking and crying out, "The earthquake! the earthquake!" It was an
awful day for us all.
During the confusion I crawled away on my hands and knees, and laid myself
down under the steps of the piazza, in front of the house. I was in a
dreadful state--my body all blood and bruises, and I could not help
moaning piteously. The other slaves, when they saw me, shook their heads
and said, "Poor child! poor child!"--I lay there till the morning,
careless of what might happen, for life was very weak in me, and I wished
more than ever to die. But when we are very young, death always seems a
great way off, and it would not come that night to me. The next morning I
was forced by my master to rise and go about my usual work, though my body
and limbs were so stiff and sore, that I could not move without the
greatest pain.--Nevertheless, even after all this severe punishment, I
never heard the last of that jar; my mistress was always throwing it in my
face.
Some little time after this, one of the cows got loose from the stake, and
eat one of the sweet-potatoe slips. I was milking when my master found it
out. He came to me, and without any more ado, stooped down, and taking off
his heavy boot, he struck me such a severe blow in the small of my back,
that I shrieked with agony, and thought I was killed; and I feel a
weakness in that part to this day. The cow was frightened at his
violence, and kicked down the pail and spilt the milk all about. My master
knew that this accident was his own fault, but he was so enraged that he
seemed glad of an excuse to go on with his ill usage. I cannot remember
how many licks he gave me then, but he beat me till I was unable to stand,
and till he himself was weary.
After this I ran away and went to my mother, who was living with Mr.
Richard Darrel. My poor mother was both grieved and glad to see me;
grieved because I had been so ill used, and glad because she had not seen
me for a long, long while. She dared not receive me into the house, but
she hid me up in a hole in the rocks near, and brought me food at night,
after every body was asleep. My father, who lived at Crow-Lane, over the
salt-water channel, at last heard of my being hid up in the cavern, and he
came and took me back to my master. Oh I was loth, loth to go back; but as
there was no remedy, I was obliged to submit.
When we got home, my poor father said to Capt. I----, "Sir, I am sorry
that my child should be forced to run away from her owner; but the
treatment she has received is enough to break her heart. The sight of her
wounds has nearly broke mine.--I entreat you, for the love of God, to
forgive her for running away, and that you will be a kind master to her in
future." Capt. I---- said I was used as well as I deserved, and that I
ought to be punished for running away. I then took courage and said that I
could stand the floggings no longer; that I was weary of my life, and
therefore I had run away to my mother; but mothers could only weep and
mourn over their children, they could not save them from cruel
masters--from the whip, the rope, and the cow-skin. He told me to hold my
tongue and go about my work, or he would find a way to settle me. He did
not, however, flog me that day.
For five years after this I remained in his house, and almost daily
received the same harsh treatment. At length he put me on board a sloop,
and to my great joy sent me away to Turk's Island. I was not permitted to
see my mother or father, or poor sisters and brothers, to say good bye,
though going away to a strange land, and might never see them again. Oh
the Buckra people who keep slaves think that black people are like cattle,
without natural affection. But my heart tells me it is far otherwise.
We were nearly four weeks on the voyage, which was unusually long.
Sometimes we had a light breeze, sometimes a great calm, and the ship made
no way; so that our provisions and water ran very low, and we were put
upon short allowance. I should almost have been starved had it not been
for the kindness of a black man called Anthony, and his wife, who had
brought their own victuals, and shared them with me.
When we went ashore at the Grand Quay, the captain sent me to the house of
my new master, Mr. D----, to whom Captain I----had sold me. Grand Quay is
a small town upon a sandbank; the houses low and built of wood. Such was
my new master's. The first person I saw, on my arrival, was Mr. D----, a
stout sulky looking man, who carried me through the hall to show me to his
wife and children. Next day I was put up by the vendue master to know how
much I was worth, and I was valued at one hundred pounds currency.
My new master was one of the owners or holders of the salt ponds, and he
received a certain sum for every slave that worked upon his premises,
whether they were young or old. This sum was allowed him out of the
profits arising from the salt works. I was immediately sent to work in the
salt water with the rest of the slaves. This work was perfectly new to me.
I was given a half barrel and a shovel, and had to stand up to my knees in
the water, from four o'clock in the morning till nine, when we were given
some Indian corn boiled in water, which we were obliged to swallow as fast
as we could for fear the rain should come on and melt the salt. We were
then called again to our tasks, and worked through the heat of the day;
the sun flaming upon our heads like fire, and raising salt blisters in
those parts which were not completely covered. Our feet and legs, from
standing in the salt water for so many hours, soon became full of dreadful
boils, which eat down in some cases to the very bone, afflicting the
sufferers with great torment. We came home at twelve; ate our corn soup,
called _blawly_, as fast as we could, and went back to our employment till
dark at night. We then shovelled up the salt in large heaps, and went down
to the sea, where we washed the pickle from our limbs, and cleaned the
barrows and shovels from the salt. When we returned to the house, our
master gave us each our allowance of raw Indian corn, which we pounded in
a mortar and boiled in water for our suppers.
We slept in a long shed, divided into narrow slips, like the stalls used
for cattle. Boards fixed upon stakes driven into the ground, without mat
or covering, were our only beds. On Sundays, after we had washed the salt
bags, and done other work required of us, we went into the bush and cut
the long soft grass, of which we made trusses for our legs and feet to
rest upon, for they were so full of the salt boils that we could get no
rest lying upon the bare boards.
Though we worked from morning till night, there was no satisfying Mr.
D----. I hoped, when I left Capt. I----, that I should have been better
off, but I found it was but going from one butcher to another. There was
this difference between them: my former master used to beat me while
raging and foaming with passion; Mr. D---- was usually quite calm. He
would stand by and give orders for a slave to be cruelly whipped, and
assist in the punishment, without moving a muscle of his face; walking
about and taking snuff with the greatest composure. Nothing could touch
his hard heart--neither sighs, nor tears, nor prayers, nor streaming
blood; he was deaf to our cries, and careless of our sufferings. Mr. D----
has often stripped me naked, hung me up by the wrists, and beat me with
the cow-skin, with his own hand, till my body was raw with gashes. Yet
there was nothing very remarkable in this; for it might serve as a sample
of the common usage of the slaves on that horrible island.
Owing to the boils in my feet, I was unable to wheel the barrow fast
through the sand, which got into the sores, and made me stumble at every
step; and my master, having no pity for my sufferings from this cause,
rendered them far more intolerable, by chastising me for not being able to
move so fast as he wished me. Another of our employments was to row a
little way off from the shore in a boat, and dive for large stones to
build a wall round our master's house. This was very hard work; and the
great waves breaking over us continually, made us often so giddy that we
lost our footing, and were in danger of being drowned.
Ah, poor me!--my tasks were never ended. Sick or well, it was
work--work--work!--After the diving season was over, we were sent to the
South Creek, with large bills, to cut up mangoes to burn lime with. Whilst
one party of slaves were thus employed, another were sent to the other
side of the island to break up coral out of the sea.
When we were ill, let our complaint be what it might, the only medicine
given to us was a great bowl of hot salt water, with salt mixed with it,
which made us very sick. If we could not keep up with the rest of the gang
of slaves, we were put in the stocks, and severely flogged the next
morning. Yet, not the less, our master expected, after we had thus been
kept from our rest, and our limbs rendered stiff and sore with ill usage,
that we should still go through the ordinary tasks of the day all the
same.--Sometimes we had to work all night, measuring salt to load a
vessel; or turning a machine to draw water out of the sea for the
salt-making. Then we had no sleep--no rest--but were forced to work as
fast as we could, and go on again all next day the same as usual.
Work--work--work--Oh that Turk's Island was a horrible place! The people
in England, I am sure, have never found out what is carried on there.
Cruel, horrible place!
Mr. D---- had a slave called old Daniel, whom he used to treat in the most
cruel manner. Poor Daniel was lame in the hip, and could not keep up with
the rest of the slaves; and our master would order him to be stripped and
laid down on the ground, and have him beaten with a rod of rough briar
till his skin was quite red and raw. He would then call for a bucket of
salt, and fling upon the raw flesh till the man writhed on the ground like
a worm, and screamed aloud with agony. This poor man's wounds were never
healed, and I have often seen them full of maggots, which increased his
torments to an intolerable degree. He was an object of pity and terror to
the whole gang of slaves, and in his wretched case we saw, each of us, our
own lot, if we should live to be as old.
Oh the horrors of slavery!--How the thought of it pains my heart! But the
truth ought to be told of it; and what my eyes have seen I think it is my
duty to relate; for few people in England know what slavery is. I have
been a slave--I have felt what a slave feels, and I know what a slave
knows; and I would have all the good people in England to know it too,
that they may break our chains, and set us free.
Mr. D---- had another slave called Ben. He being very hungry, stole a
little rice one night after he came in from work, and cooked it for his
supper. But his master soon discovered the theft; locked him up all night;
and kept him without food till one o'clock the next day. He then hung Ben
up by his hands, and beat him from time to time till the slaves came in at
night. We found the poor creature hung up when we came home; with a pool
of blood beneath him, and our master still licking him. But this was not
the worst. My master's son was in the habit of stealing the rice and rum.
Ben had seen him do this, and thought he might do the same, and when
master found out that Ben had stolen the rice and swore to punish him, he
tried to excuse himself by saying that Master Dickey did the same thing
every night. The lad denied it to his father, and was so angry with Ben
for informing against him, that out of revenge he ran and got a bayonet,
and whilst the poor wretch was suspended by his hands and writhing under
his wounds, he run it quite through his foot. I was not by when he did it,
but I saw the wound when I came home, and heard Ben tell the manner in
which it was done.
I must say something more about this cruel son of a cruel father.--He had
no heart--no fear of God; he had been brought up by a bad father in a bad
path, and he delighted to follow in the same steps. There was a little old
woman among the slaves called Sarah, who was nearly past work; and, Master
Dickey being the overseer of the slaves just then, this poor creature, who
was subject to several bodily infirmities, and was not quite right in her
head, did not wheel the barrow fast enough to please him. He threw her
down on the ground, and after beating her severely, he took her up in his
arms and flung her among the prickly-pear bushes, which are all covered
over with sharp venomous prickles. By this her naked flesh was so
grievously wounded, that her body swelled and festered all over, and she
died a few days after. In telling my own sorrows, I cannot pass by those
of my fellow-slaves--for when I think of my own griefs, I remember theirs.
I think it was about ten years I had worked in the salt ponds at Turk's
Island, when my master left off business, and retired to a house he had in
Bermuda, leaving his son to succeed him in the island. He took me with him
to wait upon his daughters; and I was joyful, for I was sick, sick of
Turk's Island, and my heart yearned to see my native place again, my
mother, and my kindred.
I had seen my poor mother during the time I was a slave in Turk's Island.
One Sunday morning I was on the beach with some of the slaves, and we saw
a sloop come in loaded with slaves to work in the salt water. We got a
boat and went aboard. When I came upon the deck I asked the black people,
"Is there any one here for me?" "Yes," they said, "your mother." I thought
they said this in jest--I could scarcely believe them for joy; but when I
saw my poor mammy my joy was turned to sorrow, for she had gone from her
senses. "Mammy," I said, "is this you?" She did not know me. "Mammy," I
said, "what's the matter?" She began to talk foolishly, and said that she
had been under the vessel's bottom. They had been overtaken by a violent
storm at sea. My poor mother had never been on the sea before, and she was
so ill, that she lost her senses, and it was long before she came quite to
herself again. She had a sweet child with her--a little sister I had never
seen, about four years of age, called Rebecca. I took her on shore with
me, for I felt I should love her directly; and I kept her with me a week.
Poor little thing! her's has been a sad life, and continues so to this
day. My mother worked for some years on the island, but was taken back to
Bermuda some time before my master carried me again thither.[7]
[Footnote 7: Of the subsequent lot of her relatives she can tell but
little. She says, her father died while she and her mother were at Turk's
Island; and that he had been long dead and buried before any of his
children in Bermuda knew of it, they being slaves on other estates. Her
mother died after Mary went to Antigua. Of the fate of the rest of her
kindred, seven brothers and three sisters, she knows nothing further than
this--that the eldest sister, who had several children to her master, was
taken by him to Trinidad; and that the youngest, Rebecca, is still alive,
and in slavery in Bermuda. Mary herself is now about forty-three years of
age.--_Ed._]
After I left Turk's Island, I was told by some negroes that came over from
it, that the poor slaves had built up a place with boughs and leaves,
where they might meet for prayers, but the white people pulled it down
twice, and would not allow them even a shed for prayers. A flood came down
soon after and washed away many houses, filled the place with sand, and
overflowed the ponds: and I do think that this was for their wickedness;
for the Buckra men[8] there were very wicked. I saw and heard much that
was very very bad at that place.
[Footnote 8: Negro term for white people.]
I was several years the slave of Mr. D---- after I returned to my native
place. Here I worked in the grounds. My work was planting and hoeing
sweet-potatoes, Indian corn, plantains, bananas, cabbages, pumpkins,
onions, &c. I did all the household work, and attended upon a horse and
cow besides,--going also upon all errands. I had to curry the horse--to
clean and feed him--and sometimes to ride him a little. I had more than
enough to do--but still it was not so very bad as Turk's Island.
My old master often got drunk, and then he would get in a fury with his
daughter, and beat her till she was not fit to be seen. I remember on one
occasion, I had gone to fetch water, and when I Was coming up the hill I
heard a great screaming; I ran as fast as I could to the house, put down
the water, and went into the chamber, where I found my master beating Miss
D---- dreadfully. I strove with all my strength to get her away from him;
for she was all black and blue with bruises. He had beat her with his
fist, and almost killed her. The people gave me credit for getting her
away. He turned round and began to lick me. Then I said, "Sir, this is not
Turk's Island." I can't repeat his answer, the words were too wicked--too
bad to say. He wanted to treat me the same in Bermuda as he had done in
Turk's Island.
He had an ugly fashion of stripping himself quite naked, and ordering me
then to wash him in a tub of water. This was worse to me than all the
licks. Sometimes when he called me to wash him I would not come, my eyes
were so full of shame. He would then come to beat me. One time I had
plates and knives in my hand, and I dropped both plates and knives, and
some of the plates were broken. He struck me so severely for this, that at
last I defended myself, for I thought it was high time to do so. I then
told him I would not live longer with him, for he was a very indecent
man--very spiteful, and too indecent; with no shame for his servants, no
shame for his own flesh. So I went away to a neighbouring house and sat
down and cried till the next morning, when I went home again, not knowing
what else to do.
After that I was hired to work at Cedar Hills, and every Saturday night I
paid the money to my master. I had plenty of work to do there--plenty of
washing; but yet I made myself pretty comfortable. I earned two dollars
and a quarter a week, which is twenty pence a day.
During the time I worked there, I heard that Mr. John Wood was going to
Antigua. I felt a great wish to go there, and I went to Mr. D----, and
asked him to let me go in Mr. Wood's service. Mr. Wood did not then want
to purchase me; it was my own fault that I came under him, I was so
anxious to go. It was ordained to be, I suppose; God led me there. The
truth is, I did not wish to be any longer the slave of my indecent master.
Mr. Wood took me with him to Antigua, to the town of St. John's, where he
lived. This was about fifteen years ago. He did not then know whether I
was to be sold; but Mrs. Wood found that I could work, and she wanted to
buy me. Her husband then wrote to my master to inquire whether I was to be
sold? Mr. D---- wrote in reply, "that I should not be sold to any one that
would treat me ill." It was strange he should say this, when he had
treated me so ill himself. So I was purchased by Mr. Wood for 300 dollars,
(or L100 Bermuda currency.)[9]
[Footnote 9: About L67. 10s. sterling.]
My work there was to attend the chambers and nurse the child, and to go
down to the pond and wash clothes. But I soon fell ill of the rheumatism,
and grew so very lame that I was forced to walk with a stick. I got the
Saint Anthony's fire, also, in my left leg, and became quite a cripple. No
one cared much to come near me, and I was ill a long long time; for
several months I could not lift the limb. I had to lie in a little old
out-house, that was swarming with bugs and other vermin, which tormented
me greatly; but I had no other place to lie in. I got the rheumatism by
catching cold at the pond side, from washing in the fresh water; in the
salt water I never got cold. The person who lived in next yard, (a Mrs.
Greene,) could not bear to hear my cries and groans. She was kind, and
used to send an old slave woman to help me, who sometimes brought me a
little soup. When the doctor found I was so ill, he said I must be put
into a bath of hot water. The old slave got the bark of some bush that was
good for the pains, which she boiled in the hot water, and every night she
came and put me into the bath, and did what she could for me: I don't know
what I should have done, or what would have become of me, had it not been
for her.--My mistress, it is true, did send me a little food; but no one
from our family came near me but the cook, who used to shove my food in at
the door, and say, "Molly, Molly, there's your dinner." My mistress did not
care to take any trouble about me; and if the Lord had not put it into the
hearts of the neighbours to be kind to me, I must, I really think, have
lain and died.
It was a long time before I got well enough to work in the house. Mrs.
Wood, in the meanwhile, hired a mulatto woman to nurse the child; but she
was such a fine lady she wanted to be mistress over me. I thought it very
hard for a coloured woman to have rule over me because I was a slave and
she was free. Her name was Martha Wilcox; she was a saucy woman, very
saucy; and she went and complained of me, without cause, to my mistress,
and made her angry with me. Mrs. Wood told me that if I did not mind what
I was about, she would get my master to strip me and give me fifty lashes:
"You have been used to the whip," she said, "and you shall have it here."
This was the first time she threatened to have me flogged; and she gave me
the threatening so strong of what she would have done to me, that I
thought I should have fallen down at her feet, I was so vexed and hurt by
her words. The mulatto woman was rejoiced to have power to keep me down.
She was constantly making mischief; there was no living for the slaves--no
peace after she came.
I was also sent by Mrs. Wood to be put in the Cage one night, and was next
morning flogged, by the magistrate's order, at her desire; and this all
for a quarrel I had about a pig with another slave woman. I was flogged on
my naked back on this occasion: although I was in no fault after all; for
old Justice Dyett, when we came before him, said that I was in the right,
and ordered the pig to be given to me. This was about two or three years
after I came to Antigua.
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