Some three hours elapsed, during which time I remained seated on the low bench, absorbed in painful meditations. At length I heard the crowing of a cock, and soon a distant rumbling4 sound, as of carriages hurrying through the streets, came to my ears, and I knew that it was day. No ray of light, however, penetrated5 my prison. Finally, I heard footsteps immediately overhead, as of some one walking to and fro. It occurred to me then that I must be in an underground apartment, and the damp, mouldy odors of the place confirmed the supposition. The noise above continued for at least an hour, when, at last, I heard footsteps approaching from without. A key rattled7 in the lock—a strong door swung back upon its hinges, admitting a flood of light, and two men entered and stood before me. One of them was a large, powerful man, forty years of age, perhaps,[Pg 41] with dark, chestnut-colored hair, slightly interspersed8 with gray. His face was full, his complexion9 flush, his features grossly coarse, expressive11 of nothing but cruelty and cunning. He was about five feet ten inches high, of full habit, and, without prejudice, I must be allowed to say, was a man whose whole appearance was sinister12 and repugnant. His name was James H. Burch, as I learned afterwards—a well-known slave-dealer in Washington; and then, or lately, connected in business, as a partner, with Theophilus Freeman, of New-Orleans. The person who accompanied him was a simple lackey, named Ebenezer Radburn, who acted merely in the capacity of turnkey. Both of these men still live in Washington, or did, at the time of my return through that city from slavery in January last.
The light admitted through the open door enabled me to observe the room in which I was confined. It was about twelve feet square—the walls of solid masonry13. The floor was of heavy plank14. There was one small window, crossed with great iron bars, with an outside shutter15, securely fastened.
An iron-bound door led into an adjoining cell, or vault16, wholly destitute17 of windows, or any means of admitting light. The furniture of the room in which I was, consisted of the wooden bench on which I sat, an old-fashioned, dirty box stove, and besides these, in either cell, there was neither bed, nor blanket, nor any other thing whatever. The door, through which[Pg 42] Burch and Radburn entered, led through a small passage, up a flight of steps into a yard, surrounded by a brick wall ten or twelve feet high, immediately in rear of a building of the same width as itself. The yard extended rearward from the house about thirty feet. In one part of the wall there was a strongly ironed door, opening into a narrow, covered passage, leading along one side of the house into the street. The doom18 of the colored man, upon whom the door leading out of that narrow passage closed, was sealed. The top of the wall supported one end of a roof, which ascended19 inwards, forming a kind of open shed. Underneath20 the roof there was a crazy loft21 all round, where slaves, if so disposed, might sleep at night, or in inclement22 weather seek shelter from the storm. It was like a farmer's barnyard in most respects, save it was so constructed that the outside world could never see the human cattle that were herded23 there.
The building to which the yard was attached, was two stories high, fronting on one of the public streets of Washington. Its outside presented only the appearance of a quiet private residence. A stranger looking at it, would never have dreamed of its execrable uses. Strange as it may seem, within plain sight of this same house, looking down from its commanding height upon it, was the Capitol. The voices of patriotic24 representatives boasting of freedom and equality, and the rattling25 of the poor slave's chains,[Pg 43] almost commingled26. A slave pen within the very shadow of the Capitol!
Such is a correct description as it was in 1841, of Williams' slave pen in Washington, in one of the cellars of which I found myself so unaccountably confined.
"Well, my boy, how do you feel now?" said Burch, as he entered through the open door. I replied that I was sick, and inquired the cause of my imprisonment28. He answered that I was his slave—that he had bought me, and that he was about to send me to New-Orleans. I asserted, aloud and boldly, that I was a free man—a resident of Saratoga, where I had a wife and children, who were also free, and that my name was Northup. I complained bitterly of the strange treatment I had received, and threatened, upon my liberation, to have satisfaction for the wrong. He denied that I was free, and with an emphatic29 oath, declared that I came from Georgia. Again and again I asserted I was no man's slave, and insisted upon his taking off my chains at once. He endeavored to hush30 me, as if he feared my voice would be overheard. But I would not be silent, and denounced the authors of my imprisonment, whoever they might be, as unmitigated villains31. Finding he could not quiet me, he flew into a towering passion. With blasphemous32 oaths, he called me a black liar33, a runaway34 from Georgia, and every other profane35 and[Pg 44] vulgar epithet36 that the most indecent fancy could conceive.
During this time Radburn was standing37 silently by. His business was, to oversee38 this human, or rather inhuman39 stable, receiving slaves, feeding and whipping them, at the rate of two shillings a head per day. Turning to him, Burch ordered the paddle and cat-o'-ninetails to be brought in. He disappeared, and in a few moments returned with these instruments of torture. The paddle, as it is termed in slave-beating parlance40, or at least the one with which I first became acquainted, and of which I now speak, was a piece of hard-wood board, eighteen or twenty inches long, moulded to the shape of an old-fashioned pudding stick, or ordinary oar10. The flattened41 portion, which was about the size in circumference42 of two open hands, was bored with a small auger43 in numerous places. The cat was a large rope of many strands44—the strands unraveled, and a knot tied at the extremity45 of each.
As soon as these formidable whips appeared, I was seized by both of them, and roughly divested46 of my clothing. My feet, as has been stated, were fastened to the floor. Drawing me over the bench, face downwards47, Radburn placed his heavy foot upon the fetters48, between my wrists, holding them painfully to the floor. With the paddle, Burch commenced beating me. Blow after blow was inflicted50 upon my naked body. When his unrelenting arm grew tired, he[Pg 45] stopped and asked if I still insisted I was a free man. I did insist upon it, and then the blows were renewed, faster and more energetically, if possible, than before. When again tired, he would repeat the same question, and receiving the same answer, continue his cruel labor51. All this time, the incarnate52 devil was uttering most fiendish oaths. At length the paddle broke, leaving the useless handle in his hand. Still I would not yield. All his brutal53 blows could not force from my lips the foul54 lie that I was a slave. Casting madly on the floor the handle of the broken paddle, he seized the rope. This was far more painful than the other. I struggled with all my power, but it was in vain. I prayed for mercy, but my prayer was only answered with imprecations and with stripes. I thought I must die beneath the lashes55 of the accursed brute57. Even now the flesh crawls upon my bones, as I recall the scene. I was all on fire. My sufferings I can compare to nothing else than the burning agonies of hell!
SCENE IN THE SLAVE PEN AT WASHINGTON.
At last I became silent to his repeated questions. I would make no reply. In fact, I was becoming almost unable to speak. Still he plied27 the lash56 without stint58 upon my poor body, until it seemed that the lacerated flesh was stripped from my bones at every stroke. A man with a particle of mercy in his soul would not have beaten even a dog so cruelly. At length Radburn said that it was useless to whip me any more—that I would be sore enough. Thereupon, Burch desisted, saying, with an admonitory[Pg 46] shake of his fist in my face, and hissing59 the words through his firm-set teeth, that if ever I dared to utter again that I was entitled to my freedom, that I had been kidnapped, or any thing whatever of the kind, the castigation60 I had just received was nothing in comparison with what would follow. He swore that he would either conquer or kill me. With these consolatory61 words, the fetters were taken from my wrists, my feet still remaining fastened to the ring; the shutter of the little barred window, which had been opened, was again closed, and going out, locking the great door behind them, I was left in darkness as before.
In an hour, perhaps two, my heart leaped to my throat, as the key rattled in the door again. I, who had been so lonely, and who had longed so ardently62 to see some one, I cared not who, now shuddered63 at the thought of man's approach. A human face was fearful to me, especially a white one. Radburn entered, bringing with him, on a tin plate, a piece of shriveled fried pork, a slice of bread and a cup of water. He asked me how I felt, and remarked that I had received a pretty severe flogging. He remonstrated64 with me against the propriety65 of asserting my freedom. In rather a patronizing and confidential66 manner, he gave it to me as his advice, that the less I said on that subject the better it would be for me. The man evidently endeavored to appear kind—whether touched at the sight of my sad condition, or with the view of silencing, on my part, any[Pg 47] further expression of my rights, it is not necessary now to conjecture67. He unlocked the fetters from my ankles, opened the shutters68 of the little window, and departed, leaving me again alone.
By this time I had become stiff and sore; my body was covered with blisters69, and it was with great pain and difficulty that I could move. From the window I could observe nothing but the roof resting on the adjacent wall. At night I laid down upon the damp, hard floor, without any pillow or covering whatever. Punctually, twice a day, Radburn came in, with his pork, and bread, and water. I had but little appetite, though I was tormented70 with continual thirst. My wounds would not permit me to remain but a few minutes in any one position; so, sitting, or standing, or moving slowly round, I passed the days and nights. I was heart sick and discouraged. Thoughts of my family, of my wife and children, continually occupied my mind. When sleep overpowered me I dreamed of them—dreamed I was again in Saratoga—that I could see their faces, and hear their voices calling me. Awakening71 from the pleasant phantasms of sleep to the bitter realities around me, I could but groan72 and weep. Still my spirit was not broken. I indulged the anticipation73 of escape, and that speedily. It was impossible, I reasoned, that men could be so unjust as to detain me as a slave, when the truth of my case was known. Burch, ascertaining74 I was no runaway from Georgia, would certainly let me go. Though suspicions of[Pg 48] Brown and Hamilton were not unfrequent, I could not reconcile myself to the idea that they were instrumental to my imprisonment. Surely they would seek me out—they would deliver me from thraldom75. Alas76! I had not then learned the measure of "man's inhumanity to man," nor to what limitless extent of wickedness he will go for the love of gain.
In the course of several days the outer door was thrown open, allowing me the liberty of the yard. There I found three slaves—one of them a lad of ten years, the others young men of about twenty and twenty-five. I was not long in forming an acquaintance, and learning their names and the particulars of their history.
The eldest77 was a colored man named Clemens Ray. He had lived in Washington; had driven a hack78, and worked in a livery stable there for a long time. He was very intelligent, and fully49 comprehended his situation. The thought of going south overwhelmed him with grief. Burch had purchased him a few days before, and had placed him there until such time as he was ready to send him to the New-Orleans market. From him I learned for the first time that I was in William's Slave Pen, a place I had never heard of previously79. He described to me the uses for which it was designed. I repeated to him the particulars of my unhappy story, but he could only give me the consolation80 of his sympathy. He also advised me to be silent henceforth on the subject of my freedom; for, knowing the character of Burch, he assured me[Pg 49] that it would only be attended with renewed whipping. The next eldest was named John Williams. He was raised in Virginia, not far from Washington. Burch had taken him in payment of a debt, and he constantly entertained the hope that his master would redeem82 him—a hope that was subsequently realized. The lad was a sprightly83 child, that answered to the name of Randall. Most of the time he was playing about the yard, but occasionally would cry, calling for his mother, and wondering when she would come. His mother's absence seemed to be the great and only grief in his little heart. He was too young to realize his condition, and when the memory of his mother was not in his mind, he amused us with his pleasant pranks84.
At night, Ray, Williams, and the boy, slept in the loft of the shed, while I was locked in the cell. Finally we were each provided with blankets, such as are used upon horses—the only bedding I was allowed to have for twelve years afterwards. Ray and Williams asked me many questions about New-York—how colored people were treated there; how they could have homes and families of their own, with none to disturb and oppress them; and Ray, especially, sighed continually for freedom. Such conversations, however, were not in the hearing of Burch, or the keeper Radburn. Aspirations85 such as these would have brought down the lash upon our backs.
It is necessary in this narrative86, in order to present a full and truthful87 statement of all the principal events[Pg 50] in the history of my life, and to portray88 the institution of Slavery as I have seen and known it, to speak of well-known places, and of many persons who are yet living. I am, and always was, an entire stranger in Washington and its vicinity—aside from Burch and Radburn, knowing no man there, except as I have heard of them through my enslaved companions. What I am about to say, if false, can be easily contradicted.
I remained in Williams' slave pen about two weeks. The night previous to my departure a woman was brought in, weeping bitterly, and leading by the hand a little child. They were Randall's mother and half-sister. On meeting them he was overjoyed, clinging to her dress, kissing the child, and exhibiting every demonstration89 of delight. The mother also clasped him in her arms, embraced him tenderly, and gazed at him fondly through her tears, calling him by many an endearing name.
Emily, the child, was seven or eight years old, of light complexion, and with a face of admirable beauty. Her hair fell in curls around her neck, while the style and richness of her dress, and the neatness of her whole appearance indicated she had been brought up in the midst of wealth. She was a sweet child indeed. The woman also was arrayed in silk, with rings upon her fingers, and golden ornaments90 suspended from her ears. Her air and manners, the correctness and propriety of her language—all showed, evidently, that she had sometime stood above the[Pg 51] common level of a slave. She seemed to be amazed at finding herself in such a place as that. It was plainly a sudden and unexpected turn of fortune that had brought her there. Filling the air with her complainings, she was hustled91, with the children and myself, into the cell. Language can convey but an inadequate92 impression of the lamentations to which she gave incessant93 utterance94. Throwing herself upon the floor, and encircling the children in her arms, she poured forth81 such touching95 words as only maternal love and kindness can suggest. They nestled closely to her, as if there only was there any safety or protection. At last they slept, their heads resting upon her lap. While they slumbered96, she smoothed the hair back from their little foreheads, and talked to them all night long. She called them her darlings—her sweet babes—poor innocent things, that knew not the misery97 they were destined98 to endure. Soon they would have no mother to comfort them—they would be taken from her. What would become of them? Oh! she could not live away from her little Emmy and her dear boy. They had always been good children, and had such loving ways. It would break her heart, God knew, she said, if they were taken from her; and yet she knew they meant to sell them, and, may be, they would be separated, and could never see each other any more. It was enough to melt a heart of stone to listen to the pitiful expressions of that desolate99 and distracted mother. Her[Pg 52] name was Eliza; and this was the story of her life, as she afterwards related it:
She was the slave of Elisha Berry, a rich man, living in the neighborhood of Washington. She was born, I think she said, on his plantation100. Years before, he had fallen into dissipated habits, and quarreled with his wife. In fact, soon after the birth of Randall, they separated. Leaving his wife and daughter in the house they had always occupied, he erected101 a new one near by, on the estate. Into this house he brought Eliza; and, on condition of her living with him, she and her children were to be emancipated102. She resided with him there nine years, with servants to attend upon her, and provided with every comfort and luxury of life. Emily was his child! Finally, her young mistress, who had always remained with her mother at the homestead, married a Mr. Jacob Brooks103. At length, for some cause, (as I gathered from her relation,) beyond Berry's control, a division of his property was made. She and her children fell to the share of Mr. Brooks. During the nine years she had lived with Berry, in consequence of the position she was compelled to occupy, she and Emily had become the object of Mrs. Berry and her daughter's hatred104 and dislike. Berry himself she represented as a man of naturally a kind heart, who always promised her that she should have her freedom, and who, she had no doubt, would grant it to her then, if it were only in his power. As soon as they thus came[Pg 53] into the possession and control of the daughter, it became very manifest they would not live long together. The sight of Eliza seemed to be odious105 to Mrs. Brooks; neither could she bear to look upon the child, half-sister, and beautiful as she was!
The day she was led into the pen, Brooks had brought her from the estate into the city, under pretence106 that the time had come when her free papers were to be executed, in fulfillment of her master's promise. Elated at the prospect107 of immediate6 liberty, she decked herself and little Emmy in their best apparel, and accompanied him with a joyful108 heart. On their arrival in the city, instead of being baptized into the family of freemen, she was delivered to the trader Burch. The paper that was executed was a bill of sale. The hope of years was blasted in a moment. From the height of most exulting109 happiness to the utmost depths of wretchedness, she had that day descended110. No wonder that she wept, and filled the pen with wailings and expressions of heart-rending woe111.
Eliza is now dead. Far up the Red River, where it pours its waters sluggishly112 through the unhealthy low lands of Louisiana, she rests in the grave at last—the only resting place of the poor slave! How all her fears were realized—how she mourned day and night, and never would be comforted—how, as she predicted, her heart did indeed break, with the burden of maternal sorrow, will be seen as the narrative proceeds.
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1
meditations
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| 默想( meditation的名词复数 )； 默念； 沉思； 冥想 | |
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lackey
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| n.侍从；跟班 | |
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maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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4
rumbling
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| n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
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5
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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interspersed
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| adj.[医]散开的；点缀的v.intersperse的过去式和过去分词 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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oar
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| n.桨，橹，划手；v.划行 | |
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expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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12
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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masonry
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| n.砖土建筑；砖石 | |
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plank
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| n.板条，木板，政策要点，政纲条目 | |
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shutter
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| n.百叶窗；(照相机)快门；关闭装置 | |
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vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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destitute
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| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
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doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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loft
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| n.阁楼，顶楼 | |
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inclement
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| adj.严酷的，严厉的，恶劣的 | |
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herded
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| 群集，纠结( herd的过去式和过去分词 )； 放牧； （使）向…移动 | |
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patriotic
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| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
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rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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commingled
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| v.混合，掺和，合并( commingle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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plied
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的过去式和过去分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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imprisonment
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| n.关押，监禁，坐牢 | |
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emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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30
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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villains
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| n.恶棍( villain的名词复数 )；罪犯；（小说、戏剧等中的）反面人物；淘气鬼 | |
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blasphemous
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| adj.亵渎神明的，不敬神的 | |
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liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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runaway
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| n.逃走的人，逃亡，亡命者；adj.逃亡的，逃走的 | |
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profane
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| adj.亵神的，亵渎的；vt.亵渎，玷污 | |
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epithet
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| n.（用于褒贬人物等的）表述形容词，修饰语 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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oversee
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| vt.监督，管理 | |
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inhuman
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| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
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40
parlance
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| n.说法；语调 | |
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41
flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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42
circumference
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| n.圆周，周长，圆周线 | |
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43
auger
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| n.螺丝钻，钻孔机 | |
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44
strands
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| n.（线、绳、金属线、毛发等的）股( strand的名词复数 )；缕；海洋、湖或河的)岸；（观点、计划、故事等的）部份v.使滞留，使搁浅( strand的第三人称单数 ) | |
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45
extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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46
divested
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| v.剥夺( divest的过去式和过去分词 )；脱去（衣服）；2。从…取去…；1。（给某人）脱衣服 | |
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47
downwards
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| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
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48
fetters
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| n.脚镣( fetter的名词复数 )；束缚v.给…上脚镣，束缚( fetter的第三人称单数 ) | |
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49
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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50
inflicted
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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52
incarnate
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| adj.化身的，人体化的，肉色的 | |
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53
brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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54
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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55
lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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56
lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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57
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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58
stint
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| v.节省，限制，停止；n.舍不得化，节约，限制；连续不断的一段时间从事某件事 | |
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59
hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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60
castigation
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| n.申斥，强烈反对 | |
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61
consolatory
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| adj.慰问的，可藉慰的 | |
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62
ardently
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| adv.热心地，热烈地 | |
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63
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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64
remonstrated
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
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propriety
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| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
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66
confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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conjecture
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| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
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68
shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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69
blisters
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| n.水疱( blister的名词复数 )；水肿；气泡 | |
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70
tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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71
awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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72
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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73
anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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74
ascertaining
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| v.弄清，确定，查明( ascertain的现在分词 ) | |
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75
thraldom
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| n.奴隶的身份，奴役，束缚 | |
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76
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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78
hack
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| n.劈，砍，出租马车；v.劈，砍，干咳 | |
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previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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80
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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81
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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82
redeem
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| v.买回，赎回，挽回，恢复，履行（诺言等） | |
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sprightly
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| adj.愉快的，活泼的 | |
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84
pranks
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| n.玩笑，恶作剧( prank的名词复数 ) | |
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85
aspirations
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| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
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86
narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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87
truthful
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| adj.真实的，说实话的，诚实的 | |
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88
portray
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| v.描写，描述；画(人物、景象等) | |
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89
demonstration
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| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
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90
ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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91
hustled
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| 催促（hustle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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92
inadequate
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| adj.(for,to)不充足的，不适当的 | |
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incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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slumbered
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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98
destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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99
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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100
plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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101
ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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102
emancipated
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| adj.被解放的，不受约束的v.解放某人（尤指摆脱政治、法律或社会的束缚）( emancipate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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103
brooks
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| n.小溪( brook的名词复数 ) | |
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104
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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105
odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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106
pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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107
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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108
joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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109
exulting
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| vi. 欢欣鼓舞，狂喜 | |
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110
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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111
woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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112
sluggishly
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| adv.懒惰地；缓慢地 | |
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