After we were all on board, the brig Orleans proceeded down James River. Passing into Chesapeake Bay, we arrived next day opposite the city of Norfolk. While lying at anchor, a lighter4 approached us from the town, bringing four more slaves. Frederick, a boy of eighteen, had been born a slave, as also had Henry, who was some years older. They had both been house servants in the city. Maria was a rather genteel looking colored girl, with a faultless form, but ignorant and extremely vain. The idea of going to New-Orleans was pleasing to her. She entertained an extravagantly5 high opinion of her own attractions. Assuming a haughty6 mien7, she declared to her companions, that immediately on our arrival in New-Orleans, she had no doubt, some wealthy single gentleman of good taste would purchase her at once!
[Pg 66]
But the most prominent of the four, was a man named Arthur. As the lighter approached, he struggled stoutly8 with his keepers. It was with main force that he was dragged aboard the brig. He protested, in a loud voice, against the treatment he was receiving, and demanded to be released. His face was swollen9, and covered with wounds and bruises10, and, indeed, one side of it was a complete raw sore. He was forced, with all haste, down the hatchway into the hold. I caught an outline of his story as he was borne struggling along, of which he afterwards gave me a more full relation, and it was as follows: He had long resided in the city of Norfolk, and was a free man. He had a family living there, and was a mason by trade. Having been unusually detained, he was returning late one night to his house in the suburbs of the city, when he was attacked by a gang of persons in an unfrequented street. He fought until his strength failed him. Overpowered at last, he was gagged and bound with ropes, and beaten, until he became insensible. For several days they secreted11 him in the slave pen at Norfolk—a very common establishment, it appears, in the cities of the South. The night before, he had been taken out and put on board the lighter, which, pushing out from shore, had awaited our arrival. For some time he continued his protestations, and was altogether irreconcilable12. At length, however, he became silent. He sank into a gloomy and thoughtful mood, and appeared to be counseling with himself. There was in[Pg 67] the man's determined13 face, something that suggested the thought of desperation.
After leaving Norfolk the hand-cuffs were taken off, and during the day we were allowed to remain on deck. The captain selected Robert as his waiter, and I was appointed to superintend the cooking department, and the distribution of food and water. I had three assistants, Jim, Cuffee and Jenny. Jenny's business was to prepare the coffee, which consisted of corn meal scorched14 in a kettle, boiled and sweetened with molasses. Jim and Cuffee baked the hoe-cake and boiled the bacon.
Standing15 by a table, formed of a wide board resting on the heads of the barrels, I cut and handed to each a slice of meat and a "dodger16" of the bread, and from Jenny's kettle also dipped out for each a cup of the coffee. The use of plates was dispensed17 with, and their sable18 fingers took the place of knives and forks. Jim and Cuffee were very demure19 and attentive20 to business, somewhat inflated21 with their situation as second cooks, and without doubt feeling that there was a great responsibility resting on them. I was called steward—a name given me by the captain.
The slaves were fed twice a day, at ten and five o'clock—always receiving the same kind and quantity of fare, and in the same manner as above described. At night we were driven into the hold, and securely fastened down.
Scarcely were we out of sight of land before we[Pg 68] were overtaken by a violent storm. The brig rolled and plunged22 until we feared she would go down. Some were sea-sick, others on their knees praying, while some were fast holding to each other, paralyzed with fear. The sea-sickness rendered the place of our confinement23 loathsome24 and disgusting. It would have been a happy thing for most of us—it would have saved the agony of many hundred lashes25, and miserable26 deaths at last—had the compassionate27 sea snatched us that day from the clutches of remorseless men. The thought of Randall and little Emmy sinking down among the monsters of the deep, is a more pleasant contemplation than to think of them as they are now, perhaps, dragging out lives of unrequited toil28.
When in sight of the Bahama Banks, at a place called Old Point Compass, or the Hole in the Wall, we were becalmed three days. There was scarcely a breath of air. The waters of the gulf29 presented a singularly white appearance, like lime water.
In the order of events, I come now to the relation of an occurrence, which I never call to mind but with sensations of regret. I thank God, who has since permitted me to escape from the thralldom of slavery, that through his merciful interposition I was prevented from imbruing my hands in the blood of his creatures. Let not those who have never been placed in like circumstances, judge me harshly. Until they have been chained and beaten—until they find themselves in the situation I was, borne away from home[Pg 69] and family towards a land of bondage31—let them refrain from saying what they would not do for liberty. How far I should have been justified32 in the sight of God and man, it is unnecessary now to speculate upon. It is enough to say that I am able to congratulate myself upon the harmless termination of an affair which threatened, for a time, to be attended with serious results.
Towards evening, on the first day of the calm, Arthur and myself were in the bow of the vessel33, seated on the windlass. We were conversing34 together of the probable destiny that awaited us, and mourning together over our misfortunes. Arthur said, and I agreed with him, that death was far less terrible than the living prospect35 that was before us. For a long time we talked of our children, our past lives, and of the probabilities of escape. Obtaining possession of the brig was suggested by one of us. We discussed the possibility of our being able, in such an event, to make our way to the harbor of New-York. I knew little of the compass; but the idea of risking the experiment was eagerly entertained. The chances, for and against us, in an encounter with the crew, was canvassed36. Who could be relied upon, and who could not, the proper time and manner of the attack, were all talked over and over again. From the moment the plot suggested itself I began to hope. I revolved37 it constantly in my mind. As difficulty after difficulty arose, some ready conceit38 was at hand, demonstrating how it could be overcome. While[Pg 70] others slept, Arthur and I were maturing our plans. At length, with much caution, Robert was gradually made acquainted with our intentions. He approved of them at once, and entered into the conspiracy with a zealous39 spirit. There was not another slave we dared to trust. Brought up in fear and ignorance as they are, it can scarcely be conceived how servilely they will cringe before a white man's look. It was not safe to deposit so bold a secret with any of them, and finally we three resolved to take upon ourselves alone the fearful responsibility of the attempt.
At night, as has been said, we were driven into the hold, and the hatch barred down. How to reach the deck was the first difficulty that presented itself. On the bow of the brig, however, I had observed the small boat lying bottom upwards40. It occurred to me that by secreting41 ourselves underneath42 it, we would not be missed from the crowd, as they were hurried down into the hold at night. I was selected to make the experiment, in order to satisfy ourselves of its feasibility. The next evening, accordingly, after supper, watching my opportunity, I hastily concealed43 myself beneath it. Lying close upon the deck, I could see what was going on around me, while wholly unperceived myself. In the morning, as they came up, I slipped from my hiding place without being observed. The result was entirely44 satisfactory.
The captain and mate slept in the cabin of the former. From Robert, who had frequent occasion, in his capacity of waiter, to make observations in that[Pg 71] quarter, we ascertained45 the exact position of their respective berths46. He further informed us that there were always two pistols and a cutlass lying on the table. The crew's cook slept in the cook galley47 on deck, a sort of vehicle on wheels, that could be moved about as convenience required, while the sailors, numbering only six, either slept in the forecastle, or in hammocks swung among the rigging.
Finally our arrangements were all completed. Arthur and I were to steal silently to the captain's cabin, seize the pistols and cutlass, and as quickly as possible despatch48 him and the mate. Robert, with a club, was to stand by the door leading from the deck down into the cabin, and, in case of necessity, beat back the sailors, until we could hurry to his assistance. We were to proceed then as circumstances might require. Should the attack be so sudden and successful as to prevent resistance, the hatch was to remain barred down; otherwise the slaves were to be called up, and in the crowd, and hurry, and confusion of the time, we resolved to regain49 our liberty or lose our lives. I was then to assume the unaccustomed place of pilot, and, steering50 northward51, we trusted that some lucky wind might bear us to the soil of freedom.
The mate's name was Biddee, the captain's I cannot now recall, though I rarely ever forget a name once heard. The captain was a small, genteel man, erect52 and prompt, with a proud bearing, and looked the personification of courage. If he is still living, and these pages should chance to meet his eye, he[Pg 72] will learn a fact connected with the voyage of the brig, from Richmond to New-Orleans, in 1841, not entered on his log-book.
We were all prepared, and impatiently waiting an opportunity of putting our designs into execution, when they were frustrated53 by a sad and unforeseen event. Robert was taken ill. It was soon announced that he had the small-pox. He continued to grow worse, and four days previous to our arrival in New-Orleans he died. One of the sailors sewed him in his blanket, with a large stone from the ballast at his feet, and then laying him on a hatchway, and elevating it with tackles above the railing, the inanimate body of poor Robert was consigned54 to the white waters of the gulf.
We were all panic-stricken by the appearance of the small-pox. The captain ordered lime to be scattered55 through the hold, and other prudent56 precautions to be taken. The death of Robert, however, and the presence of the malady57, oppressed me sadly, and I gazed out over the great waste of waters with a spirit that was indeed disconsolate58.
An evening or two after Robert's burial, I was leaning on the hatchway near the forecastle, full of desponding thoughts, when a sailor in a kind voice asked me why I was so down-hearted. The tone and manner of the man assured me, and I answered, because I was a freeman, and had been kidnapped. He remarked that it was enough to make any one down-hearted, and continued to interrogate59 me until[Pg 73] he learned the particulars of my whole history. He was evidently much interested in my behalf, and, in the blunt speech of a sailor, swore he would aid me all he could, if it "split his timbers." I requested him to furnish me pen, ink and paper, in order that I might write to some of my friends. He promised to obtain them—but how I could use them undiscovered was a difficulty. If I could only get into the forecastle while his watch was off, and the other sailors asleep, the thing could be accomplished60. The small boat instantly occurred to me. He thought we were not far from the Balize, at the mouth of the Mississippi, and it was necessary that the letter be written soon, or the opportunity would be lost. Accordingly, by arrangement, I managed the next night to secret myself again under the long-boat. His watch was off at twelve. I saw him pass into the forecastle, and in about an hour followed him. He was nodding over a table, half asleep, on which a sickly light was flickering61, and on which also was a pen and sheet of paper. As I entered he aroused, beckoned62 me to a seat beside him, and pointed1 to the paper. I directed the letter to Henry B. Northup, of Sandy Hill—stating that I had been kidnapped, was then on board the brig Orleans, bound for New-Orleans; that it was then impossible for me to conjecture63 my ultimate destination, and requesting he would take measures to rescue me. The letter was sealed and directed, and Manning, having read it, promised to deposit it in the New-Orleans post-office. I hastened back to my place[Pg 74] under the long-boat, and in the morning, as the slaves came up and were walking round, crept out unnoticed and mingled64 with them.
My good friend, whose name was John Manning, was an Englishman by birth, and a noble-hearted, generous sailor as ever walked a deck. He had lived in Boston—was a tall, well-built man, about twenty-four years old, with a face somewhat pock-marked, but full of benevolent65 expression.
Nothing to vary the monotony of our daily life occurred, until we reached New-Orleans. On coming to the levee, and before the vessel was made fast, I saw Manning leap on shore and hurry away into the city. As he started off he looked back over his shoulder significantly, giving me to understand the object of his errand. Presently he returned, and passing close by me, hunched66 me with his elbow, with a peculiar67 wink68, as much as to say, "it is all right."
The letter, as I have since learned, reached Sandy Hill. Mr. Northup visited Albany and laid it before Governor Seward, but inasmuch as it gave no definite information as to my probable locality, it was not, at that time, deemed advisable to institute measures for my liberation. It was concluded to delay, trusting that a knowledge of where I was might eventually be obtained.
A happy and touching69 scene was witnessed immediately upon our reaching the levee. Just as Manning left the brig, on his way to the post-office, two men came up and called aloud for Arthur. The latter,[Pg 75] as he recognized them, was almost crazy with delight. He could hardly be restrained from leaping over the brig's side; and when they met soon after, he grasped them by the hand, and clung to them a long, long time. They were men from Norfolk, who had come on to New-Orleans to rescue him. His kidnappers70, they informed him, had been arrested, and were then confined in the Norfolk prison. They conversed71 a few moments with the captain, and then departed with the rejoicing Arthur.
But in all the crowd that thronged72 the wharf73, there was no one who knew or cared for me. Not one. No familiar voice greeted my ears, nor was there a single face that I had ever seen. Soon Arthur would rejoin his family, and have the satisfaction of seeing his wrongs avenged74: my family, alas75, should I ever see them more? There was a feeling of utter desolation in my heart, filling it with a despairing and regretful sense, that I had not gone down with Robert to the bottom of the sea.
Very soon traders and consignees came on board. One, a tall, thin-faced man, with light complexion76 and a little bent77, made his appearance, with a paper in his hand. Burch's gang, consisting of myself, Eliza and her children, Harry78, Lethe, and some others, who had joined us at Richmond, were consigned to him. This gentleman was Mr. Theophilus Freeman. Reading from his paper, he called, "Platt." No one answered. The name was called again and again, but still there was no reply. Then Lethe was called, then[Pg 76] Eliza, then Harry, until the list was finished, each one stepping forward as his or her name was called.
"Captain, where's Platt?" demanded Theophilus Freeman.
The captain was unable to inform him, no one being on board answering to that name.
"Who shipped that nigger?" he again inquired of the captain, pointing to me.
"Burch," replied the captain.
"Your name is Platt—you answer my description. Why don't you come forward?" he demanded of me, in an angry tone.
I informed him that was not my name; that I had never been called by it, but that I had no objection to it as I knew of.
"Well, I will learn you your name," said he; "and so you won't forget it either, by ——," he added.
Mr. Theophilus Freeman, by the way, was not a whit30 behind his partner, Burch, in the matter of blasphemy79. On the vessel I had gone by the name of "Steward," and this was the first time I had ever been designated as Platt—the name forwarded by Burch to his consignee. From the vessel I observed the chain-gang at work on the levee. We passed near them as we were driven to Freeman's slave pen. This pen is very similar to Goodin's in Richmond, except the yard was enclosed by plank80, standing upright, with ends sharpened, instead of brick walls.
Including us, there were now at least fifty in this pen. Depositing our blankets in one of the small[Pg 77] buildings in the yard, and having been called up and fed, we were allowed to saunter about the enclosure until night, when we wrapped our blankets round us and laid down under the shed, or in the loft81, or in the open yard, just as each one preferred.
It was but a short time I closed my eyes that night. Thought was busy in my brain. Could it be possible that I was thousands of miles from home—that I had been driven through the streets like a dumb beast—that I had been chained and beaten without mercy—that I was even then herded82 with a drove of slaves, a slave myself? Were the events of the last few weeks realities indeed?—or was I passing only through the dismal83 phases of a long, protracted84 dream? It was no illusion. My cup of sorrow was full to overflowing85. Then I lifted up my hands to God, and in the still watches of the night, surrounded by the sleeping forms of my companions, begged for mercy on the poor, forsaken86 captive. To the Almighty87 Father of us all—the freeman and the slave—I poured forth88 the supplications of a broken spirit, imploring89 strength from on high to bear up against the burden of my troubles, until the morning light aroused the slumberers, ushering90 in another day of bondage.
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1
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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consignee
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| n.受托者，收件人，代销人；承销人；收货人 | |
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lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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extravagantly
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| adv.挥霍无度地 | |
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haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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mien
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| n.风采；态度 | |
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stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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bruises
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| n.瘀伤，伤痕，擦伤( bruise的名词复数 ) | |
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secreted
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| v.（尤指动物或植物器官）分泌( secrete的过去式和过去分词 )；隐匿，隐藏 | |
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irreconcilable
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| adj.（指人）难和解的，势不两立的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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scorched
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
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standing
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dodger
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| n.躲避者；躲闪者；广告单 | |
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dispensed
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| v.分配( dispense的过去式和过去分词 )；施与；配（药） | |
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sable
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| n.黑貂；adj.黑色的 | |
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demure
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| adj.严肃的；端庄的 | |
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attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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inflated
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| adj.（价格）飞涨的；（通货）膨胀的；言过其实的；充了气的v.使充气（于轮胎、气球等）( inflate的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）膨胀；（使）通货膨胀；物价上涨 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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confinement
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| n.幽禁，拘留，监禁；分娩；限制，局限 | |
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loathsome
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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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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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compassionate
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| adj.有同情心的，表示同情的 | |
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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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whit
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| n.一点，丝毫 | |
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bondage
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| n.奴役，束缚 | |
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justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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canvassed
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| v.（在政治方面）游说( canvass的过去式和过去分词 )；调查（如选举前选民的）意见；为讨论而提出（意见等）；详细检查 | |
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revolved
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| v.（使）旋转( revolve的过去式和过去分词 )；细想 | |
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conceit
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| n.自负，自高自大 | |
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zealous
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| adj.狂热的，热心的 | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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secreting
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| v.（尤指动物或植物器官）分泌( secrete的现在分词 )；隐匿，隐藏 | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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ascertained
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| v.弄清，确定，查明( ascertain的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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berths
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| n.（船、列车等的）卧铺( berth的名词复数 )；（船舶的）停泊位或锚位；差事；船台vt.v.停泊( berth的第三人称单数 )；占铺位 | |
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galley
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| n.（飞机或船上的）厨房单层甲板大帆船；军舰舰长用的大划艇； | |
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despatch
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| n./v.(dispatch)派遣；发送；n.急件；新闻报道 | |
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regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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frustrated
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| adj.挫败的，失意的，泄气的v.使不成功( frustrate的过去式和过去分词 )；挫败；使受挫折；令人沮丧 | |
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consigned
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| v.把…置于（令人不快的境地）( consign的过去式和过去分词 )；把…托付给；把…托人代售；丟弃 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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malady
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| n.病，疾病(通常做比喻) | |
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disconsolate
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| adj.忧郁的，不快的 | |
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interrogate
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| vt.讯问，审问，盘问 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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conjecture
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| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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benevolent
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| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
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hunched
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| （常指因寒冷、生病或愁苦）耸肩弓身的，伏首前倾的 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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kidnappers
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| n.拐子，绑匪( kidnapper的名词复数 ) | |
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conversed
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
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thronged
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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wharf
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| n.码头，停泊处 | |
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avenged
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| v.为…复仇，报…之仇( avenge的过去式和过去分词 )；为…报复 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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blasphemy
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| n.亵渎，渎神 | |
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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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loft
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| n.阁楼，顶楼 | |
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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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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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protracted
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| adj.拖延的；延长的v.拖延“protract”的过去式和过去分词 | |
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overflowing
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| n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的，充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
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Forsaken
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| adj. 被遗忘的, 被抛弃的 动词forsake的过去分词 | |
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almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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imploring
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| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
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ushering
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的现在分词 ) | |
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