CHAPTER I

       WHAT IS SOUTHERN SLAVERY, AND WHO ARE SLAVES

       Table of Contents

      "Slaves shall be deemed, sold, taken, reputed, and adjudged in law to be chattels personal in the hands of their owners and possessors, and their executors, administrators, and assigns, to all intents, constructions, and purposes whatsoever." "A slave is one doomed, in his own person and his posterity, to live without knowledge, and without the capacity to make any thing his own; and toil that another may reap the fruits."

      My observations of Slavery have been confined, in the main, to the States of Delaware and Maryland, where it exists in its mildest form: if, therefore, it shall be found to be a great crime against God and humanity in those States, what must it be in its most aggravated manifestations? I shall endeavor to draw truthful pictures of what I have seen and heard. I shall do justice to master and slave. In treating of slaves, I shall group them into three classes. First, there are the slaves owned by large planters and farmers, and governed by overseers or "nigger-drivers," as they are called. This class being excluded from all contact and association with the families of their wealthy owners, are, as a general rule, as degraded as their ancestors were before they were stolen from the west coast of Africa. Their language is shockingly barbarous; they say "dis" for this, "dat" for that, and "tudder" for the other.

      They are great believers in charms, spells, witches, wizards, and ghosts; if they are sick, they are "in misery." They do not say that they have the headache or pain in the side, but "misery" in the head or side, as the case may be. Their food and clothing are of the coarsest kind; one suit of coarse cloth for winter, and of cotton cloth for summer. Their allowance of food is one peck of Indian corn meal and three pounds of fat pork per week. This they cook as best they can. Among this class there is no respect paid to sex: the females work in the field, cut wood, drive the ox-cart, make fences. Indeed, I have often seen them in situations, where, if the pecuniary value of their offspring had been consulted, they should have been removed to the "quarters" till after a certain time. Chastity is out of the question. There is a certain attachment between male and female, but the horrible slave laws allow it to be little more than the promiscuous commerce of beasts. There is, however, a genuine love between mother and child. The slave can truly say, "I have no father, but I know my mother." The males, like the dogs of their masters, are frequently called after the celebrated philosophers and generals of Greece and Rome. Almost every plantation has a Plato, Cato, Pompey, and Cæsar. This seems like a retribution. The great men of Rome were slaveholders on a magnificent scale, and their names are now borne by slaves more abject than theirs.

      The cowhide is their only coat of arms. They seldom hear a kind word spoken to them on the part of their overseers. With them there is neither digression nor progression. The plantation slave is but little better informed than those of the same class fifty years ago; and one hundred years hence will find them the same, if slavery continues as it is. Their principal amusements are hunting and dancing. They are very fond of hunting the raccoon and opossum, which they call "varmint." Reader, did you ever see a genuine negro dog? There is as much difference between such a cur and a gentleman's dog, as there is between an oyster cart-horse and an Arabian charger.

      See that poor slave. He is just returning from the lordly mansion of his master, with his week's allowance of meal and pork. Over his left shoulder is suspended a wallet, with meal in one end and pork in the other. His left hand presses against it. In his right hand he holds his stick (he never says cane). He is trudging along to the adjoining plantation, where he belongs. He has a downcast look, and a gentle, forward stoop. His dog alternately trots and walks behind him. His tail is cut midway, and his ears are cropped. Look: yonder comes his young master on his fine horse, with his glossy spaniel bounding before him. He approaches; the negro makes a low bow, and says, "Sarvent, massa." His dog skulks to one side: if the spaniel attacks him, he makes no resistance; he falls flat on the ground, turns on his back, curves his cut tail between his legs, and appeals to the magnanimity of his master's dog, and says by actions, "Oh don't! I am but a poor slave of a slave!" The slave loves his dog. They are constant companions. He talks with him by day and hunts with him at night, and shares with him his scanty meals. His dog is the only thing under the sun that he can call his own; for the master claims the woman that is called his wife, his offspring, his hut, his pig, his own body — and his very soul.

      The master despises "nigger dogs." If he is given to profanity, he swears at them whenever he sees them, accusing them of killing sheep and his fat young pigs.

      The plantation slaves often suffer with hunger. Despite the common boasts of the slaveholder, the Allwise only knows how much penury and starvation wear out the lives of the slaves. Dancing is one of their favorite amusements. I have often looked at their dances during their different holidays. The banjo is of all instruments the best adapted to the lowest class of slaves. It is the very symbol of their savage degradation. They talk to it, and a skillful performer can excite the most diverse passions among the dancers. Generally, however, they have no instruments, but dance to the tunes and words of a leader, keeping time by striking their hands against the thighs, and patting the right foot, to the words of

      " 'Juber,' 'Cesar boy,'

       Ash-cake in de fire,

       'Possum up de gum tree,

       Raccoon in de holler."

      I have seen males and females dancing, rapidly whirling round, whooping and yelling with brutal delight, alike unmindful of the past and future. I have never known, in a single instance, of a colored man of any moral tone who was fond of the banjo or common dance.

      The "quarters" of the large slaveholders are generally mere shells; very few are plastered; and no arrangement is made for the separation of male and female. The men generally have no beds, but sleep in their clothes on benches made of wide plank, with their feet to the fire. The plantation slaves are remarkable for their fine teeth. The slave is never supposed to be sick, unless he is very ill. The ignorant overseer takes for granted that, if the slave complains, he is "acting the 'possum," and frequently, before the master or physician knows it, the slave dies. The death of a slave is considered a mere money loss. Neighbor A says that "neighbor B has lost a fine slave worth one thousand dollars."

      The humble body is buried in the negro graveyard, in some obscure part of the plantation. For the slave there is no tombstone. The flowers of memory and affection never bloom over the lonely hillock that marks his resting-place. The wild rose and dewberry mat his grave; and the lark builds there her lowly nest, and sings at morn his only requiem. Many an undeveloped poet, orator, and artist lies entombed in such obscure cemeteries throughout the South. A slave-burying is one of the saddest sights I ever saw. They do not cry and weep like freemen; they are sad and stupid. They have no religious services at the grave, and could not have them if they wished. The negro preacher on the adjoining plantation