Book: Twenty Two Years a Slave, and Forty Years a Freeman

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[Illustration: [Signature of] Austin Steward]




TWENTY-TWO YEARS A SLAVE,
AND
FORTY YEARS A FREEMAN;

EMBRACING A
CORRESPONDENCE OF SEVERAL YEARS, WHILE
PRESIDENT OF WILBERFORCE COLONY,
LONDON, CANADA WEST,

BY
AUSTIN STEWARD.


1856



FROM GOVERNOR CLARK.

STATE OF NEW YORK,
EXECUTIVE DEPARTMENT,

Albany, May 10, 1856.

MR. A. STEWARD, Canandaigua,

Dear Sir:--I notice a paragraph in the "Ontario Times" of this date,
making the announcement that you are preparing "a sketch of events
occurring under your own observation during an eventful life," to be
entitled, "Twenty Years a Slave, and Forty Years a Freeman;" and that you
design soon to make an effort to obtain subscribers for the book.

Being desirous of rendering you what encouragement I may in the work, you
are permitted to place my name on your list of subscribers.

Respectfully Yours,

MYRON H. CLARK.

* * * * *

ROCHESTER, SEPTEMBER, 1856

MR. WM. ALLING,

Dear Sir:--The undersigned have heard with pleasure, that you are about
issuing a Book made up from incidents in the life of Austin STEWARD. We
have been the early acquaintances and associates of Mr. Steward, while a
business man in Rochester in an early day, and take pleasure in bearing
testimony to his high personal, moral and Christian character. In a world
of vicissitude, Mr. Steward has received no ordinary share, and we hope,
while his book may do the world good, it may prove a substantial benefit
to him in his declining years.

ASHLEY SAMPSON,
THOMAS KEMPSHALL,
FREDERICK STARR,
CHAS. J. HILL,
L.A. WARD,
EDWIN SCRANTOM,
JACOB GOULD.

* * * * *

RECOMMENDATORY.

ROCHESTER, JULY 1, 1856.

A. STEWARD, ESQ.,

Dear Sir:--In reply to your letter upon the propriety of publishing your
life, I answer, that there is not only no objection to it, but it will be
timely, and is demanded by every consideration of humanity and justice.
Every tongue which speaks for Freedom, which has once been held by the
awful gag of Slavery, is trumpet-tongued--and he who pleads against this
monstrous oppression, if he can say, "here are the scars," can do much.

It is a great pleasure to me to run back to my boyhood, and stop at that
spot where I first met you. I recollect the story of your wrongs, and your
joy in the supposition that all were now ended in your freedom; of your
thirst for knowledge, as you gathered up from the rudimental books--not
then very plenty--a few snatches of the elements of the language; of
playing the school-master to you, in "setting copies" for your writing--
book; of guiding your mind and pen. I remember your commencement in
business, and the outrage and indignity offered you in Rochester, by white
competitors on no other ground than that of color.[1] I saw your bitter
tears, and recollect assuring you--what afterwards proved true--that
justice would overtake the offenders, and that you would live to see
these enemies bite the dust! I remember your unsullied character, and your
prosperity, and when your word or endorsement was equal to that of any
other citizen. I remember too, when yourself, and others of your kind,
sunk all the gatherings of years of toil, in an unsuccessful attempt to
establish an asylum for your enslaved and oppressed brethren--and, not to
enumerate, which I might do much farther, I remember when your "old
master," finding you had been successful, while he himself had lost in the
changes on fortune's wheel--came here and set up a claim to yourself and
your property--a claim which might have held both, had not a higher power
suddenly summoned him to a tribunal, where both master and slave shall one
day answer each for himself!

But to the book. Let its plain, unvarnished tale be sent out, and the
story of Slavery and its abominations, again be told by one who has felt
in his own person its scorpion lash, and the weight of its grinding heel.
I think it will do good service, and could not have been sent forth at a
more auspicious period. The downfall of the hateful system of Slavery is
certain. Though long delayed, justice is sure to come at length; and he
must be a slow thinker and a poor seer, who cannot discern in the elements
already at work, the mighty forces which must eventually crush this
oppression. I know that you and I have felt discouraged at the long delay,
years ago,--when we might have kept up our hopes by the fact that every
thing that is slow is _sure_. Your book may be humble and your
descriptions tame, yet truth is always mighty; and you may furnish the
sword for some modern Sampson, who shall shout over more slain than his
ancient prototype. I close with the wish, that much success may attend
your labors, in more ways than one, and that your last days may be your
best--and am,

Your old Friend,

And obed't serv't,

EDWIN SCRANTOM.

[Footnote 1: The indignity spoken of was this: Mr. Steward had established
a grocery and provision store on Buffalo Street, in a part of Abner
Wakelee's building, opposite the Eagle Hotel. He put up his sign, a very
plain and proper one, and at night, some competitors, whom he knew, as
well as he could know anything which he could not prove, smeared his sign
with black paint, utterly destroying it! But the misguided men who stooped
to such an act--the victims of sensuality and excess--have years ago ended
their journey, and passed to the bar of a higher adjudication.]

* * * * *

CONTENTS.


I. SLAVE LIFE ON THE PLANTATION

II. AT THE GREAT HOUSE

III. HORSE-RACING AND ITS CONSEQUENCES

IV. JOURNEY TO OUR NEW HOME IN NEW YORK

V. INCIDENTS AT SODUS

VI. REMOVAL FROM SODUS TO BATH

VII. DUELING

VIII. HORSE-RACING AND GENERAL TRAINING

IX. DEATH-BED AND BRIDAL SCENES

X. HIRED OUT TO A NEW MASTER

XI. THOUGHTS ON FREEDOM

XII. CAPTAIN HELM--DIVORCE--KIDNAPPING

XIII. LOCATE IN THE VILLAGE OF ROCHESTER

XIV. INCIDENTS IN ROCHESTER AND VICINITY

XV. SAD REVERSES CAPTAIN HELM

XVI. BRITISH EMANCIPATION OF SLAVERY

XVII. ORATION--TERMINATION OF SLAVERY IN THE BRITISH POSSESSIONS

XVIII. CONDITION OF FREE COLORED PEOPLE

XIX. PERSECUTION OF THE COLORED PEOPLE

XX. REMOVAL TO CANADA

XXI. ROUGHING IT IN THE WILDS OF CANADA

XXII. NARROW ESCAPE OF A SMUGGLER

XXIII. NARRATIVE OF TWO FUGITIVES FROM VIRGINIA

XXIV. PLEASANT RE-UNION OF OLD AND TRIED FRIENDS

XXV. PRIVATE LOSSES AND PRIVATE DIFFICULTIES

XXVI. INCIDENTS AND PECULIARITIES OF THE INDIANS

XXVII. OUR DIFFICULTIES WITH ISRAEL LEWIS

XXVIII. DESPERATION OF A FUGITIVE SLAVE

XXIX. A NARROW ESCAPE FROM MY ENEMIES

XXX. DEATH OF B. PAUL AND RETURN OF HIS BROTHER

XXXI. MY FAMILY RETURN TO ROCHESTER

XXXII. THE LAND AGENT AND THE SQUATTER

XXXIII. CHARACTER AND DEATH OF ISRAEL LEWIS

XXXIV. MY RETURN TO ROCHESTER

XXXV. BISHOP BROWN--DEATH OF MY DAUGHTER

XXXVI. CELEBRATION OF THE FIRST OF AUGUST

XXXVII. CONCLUSION

CORRESPONDENCE




PREFACE.



The author does not think that any apology is necessary for this issue of
his Life and History. He believes that American Slavery is now the great
question before the American People: that it is not merely a political
question, coming up before the country as the grand element in the making
of a President, and then to be laid aside for four years; but that its
moral bearings are of such a nature that the Patriot, the Philanthropist,
and all good men agree that it is an evil of so much magnitude, that
longer to permit it, is to wink at _sin_, and to incur the righteous
judgments of God. The late outrages and aggressions of the slave power to
possess itself of new soil, and extend the influence of the hateful and
God-provoking "Institution," is a practical commentary upon its benefits
and the moral qualities of those who seek to sustain and extend it. The
author is therefore the more willing--nay, anxious, to lay alongside of
such arguments the history of his own life and experiences _as a slave_,
that those who read may know what are some of the characteristics of
that highly favored institution, which is sought to be preserved and
perpetuated. "Facts are stubborn things,"--and this is the reason why
all systems, religious, moral, or social, which are founded in injustice,
and supported by fraud and robbery, suffer so much by faithful exposition.

The author has endeavored to present a true statement of the practical
workings of the system of Slavery, as he has seen and _felt it himself._
He has intended "nothing to extenuate, nor aught set down in malice;"
indeed, so far from believing that he has misrepresented Slavery as an
institution, he does not feel that he has the power to give anything like
a true picture of it in all its deformity and wickedness; especially
_that_ Slavery which is an institution among an enlightened and Christian
people, who profess to believe that all men are born _free_ and _equal_,
and who have certain inalienable _rights_, among which are _life,
liberty_, and the pursuit of happiness.

The author claims that he has endeavored since he had his freedom, as much
as in him lay, to benefit his suffering fellows in bondage; and that he
has spent most of his free life in efforts to elevate them in manners and
morals, though against all the opposing forces of prejudice and pride,
which of course, has made much of his labor vain. In his old age he sends
out this history--presenting as it were his _own body_, with the marks and
scars of the tender mercies of slave drivers upon it, and asking that
these may plead in the name of Justice, Humanity, and Mercy, that those
who have the power, may have the magnanimity to strike off the chains from
the enslaved, and bid him stand up, a Freeman and a Brother!




CHAPTER I.

SLAVE LIFE ON THE PLANTATION.

I was born in Prince William County, Virginia. At seven years of age, I
found myself a slave on the plantation of Capt. William Helm. Our family
consisted of my father and mother--whose names were Robert and Susan
Steward--a sister, Mary, and myself. As was the usual custom, we lived in
a small cabin, built of rough boards, with a floor of earth, and small
openings in the sides of the cabin were substituted for windows. The
chimney was built of sticks and mud; the door, of rough boards; and the
whole was put together in the rudest possible manner. As to the furniture
of this rude dwelling, it was procured by the slaves themselves, who were
occasionally permitted to earn a little money after their day's toil was
done. I never knew Capt. H. to furnish his slaves with household utensils
of any description.

The amount of provision given out on the plantation per week, was
invariably one peck of corn or meal for each slave. This allowance was
given in meal when it could be obtained; when it could not, they received
corn, which they pounded in mortars after they returned from their labor
in the field. The slaves on our plantation were provided with very little
meat In addition to the peck of corn or meal, they were allowed a little
salt and a few herrings. If they wished for more, they were obliged to
earn it by over-work. They were permitted to cultivate small gardens, and
were thereby enabled to provide themselves with many trifling
conveniences. But these gardens were only allowed to some of the more
industrious. Capt. Helm allowed his slaves a small quantity of meat during
harvest time, but when the harvest was over they were obliged to fall back
on the old allowance.

It was usual for men and women to work side by side on our plantation; and
in many kinds of work, the women were compelled to do as much as the men.
Capt. H. employed an overseer, whose business it was to look after each
slave in the field, and see that he performed his task. The overseer
always went around with a whip, about nine feet long, made of the toughest
kind of cowhide, the but-end of which was loaded with lead, and was about
four or five inches in circumference, running to a point at the opposite
extremity. This made a dreadful instrument of torture, and, when in the
hands of a cruel overseer, it was truly fearful. With it, the skin of an
ox or a horse could be cut through. Hence, it was no uncommon thing to see
the poor slaves with their backs mangled in a most horrible manner. Our
overseer, thus armed with his cowhide, and with a large bull-dog behind
him, followed the slaves all day; and, if one of them fell in the rear
from any cause, this cruel weapon was plied with terrible force. He would
strike the dog one blow and the slave another, in order to keep the former
from tearing the delinquent slave in pieces,--such was the ferocity of his
canine attendant.

It was the rule for the slaves to rise and be ready for their task by
sun-rise, on the blowing of a horn or conch-shell; and woe be to the
unfortunate, who was not in the field at the time appointed, which was in
thirty minutes from the first sounding of the horn. I have heard the poor
creatures beg as for their lives, of the inhuman overseer, to desist from
his cruel punishment. Hence, they were usually found in the field
"betimes in the morning," (to use an old Virginia phrase), where they
worked until nine o'clock. They were then allowed thirty minutes to eat
their morning meal, which consisted of a little bread. At a given
signal, all hands were compelled to return to their work. They toiled
until noon, when they were permitted to take their breakfast, which
corresponds to our dinner.

On our plantation, it was the usual practice to have one of the old slaves
set apart to do the cooking. All the field hands were required to give
into the hands of the cook a certain portion of their weekly allowance,
either in dough or meal, which was prepared in the following manner. The
cook made a hot fire and rolled up each person's portion in some cabbage
leaves, when they could be obtained, and placed it in a hole in the ashes,
carefully covered with the same, where it remained until done. Bread baked
in this way is very sweet and good. But cabbage leaves could not always be
obtained. When this was the case, the bread was little better than a
mixture of dough and ashes, which was not very palatable. The time allowed
for breakfast, was one hour. At the signal, all hands were obliged to
resume their toil. The overseer was always on hand to attend to all
delinquents, who never failed to feel the blows of his heavy whip.

The usual mode of punishing the poor slaves was, to make them take off
their clothes to the bare back, and then tie their hands before them with
a rope, pass the end of the rope over a beam, and draw them up till they
stood on the tips of their toes. Sometimes they tied their legs together
and placed a rail between. Thus prepared, the overseer proceeded to punish
the poor, helpless victim. Thirty-nine was the number of lashes ordinarily
inflicted for the most trifling offence.

Who can imagine a position more painful? Oh, who, with feelings of common
humanity, could look quietly on such torture? Who could remain unmoved,
to see a fellow-creature thus tied, unable to move or to raise a hand in
his own defence; scourged on his bare back, with a cowhide, until the
blood flows in streams from his quivering flesh? And for what? Often for
the most trifling fault; and, as sometimes occurs, because a mere whim or
caprice of his brutal overseer demands it. Pale with passion, his eyes
flashing and his stalwart frame trembling with rage, like some volcano,
just ready to belch forth its fiery contents, and, in all its might and
fury, spread death and destruction all around, he continues to wield the
bloody lash on the broken flesh of the poor, pleading slave, until his
arm grows weary, or he sinks down, utterly exhausted, on the very spot
where already stand the pools of blood which his cruelty has drawn from
thee mangled body of his helpless victim, and within the hearing of those
agonized groans and feeble cries of "Oh do, Massa! Oh do, Massa! Do, Lord,
have mercy! Oh, Lord, have mercy!" &c.

Nor is this cruel punishment inflicted on the bare backs of the male
portion of slaves only. Oh no! The slave husband must submit without a
murmur, to see the form of his cherished, but wretched wife, not only
exposed to the rude gaze of a beastly tyrant, but he must unresistingly
see the heavy cowhide descend upon her shrinking flesh, and her manacled
limbs writhe in inexpressible torture, while her piteous cries for help
ring through his ears unanswered. The wild throbbing of his heart must be
suppressed, and his righteous indignation find no voice, in the presence
of the human monster who holds dominion over him.

After the infuriated and heartless overseer had satiated his thirst for
vengeance, on the disobedient or delinquent slave, he was untied, and left
to crawl away as best he could; sometimes on his hands and knees, to his
lonely and dilapidated cabin, where, stretched upon the cold earth, he lay
weak and bleeding and often faint from the loss of blood, without a
friend who dare administer to his necessities, and groaning in the agony
of his crushed spirit. In his cabin, which was not as good as many of our
stables at the North, he might lie for weeks before recovering sufficient
strength to resume the labor imposed upon him, and all this time without
a bed or bed clothing, or any of the necessaries considered so essential
to the sick.

Perhaps some of his fellow-slaves might come and bathe his wounds in warm
water, to prevent his clothing from tearing open his flesh anew, and thus
make the second suffering well nigh equal to the first; or they might
from their scanty store bring him such food as they could spare, to keep
him from suffering hunger, and offer their sympathy, and then drag their
own weary bodies to their place of rest, after their daily task was
finished.

Oh, you who have hearts to feel; you who have kind friends around you, in
sickness and in sorrow, think of the sufferings of the helpless,
destitute, and down-trodden slave. Has sickness laid its withering hand
upon you, or disappointment blasted your fairest earthly prospects, still,
the outgushings of an affectionate heart are not denied you, and you may
look forward with hope to a bright future. Such a hope seldom animates the
heart of the poor slave. He toils on, in his unrequited labor, looking
only to the grave to find a quiet resting place, where he will be free
from the oppressor.




CHAPTER II.

AT THE GREAT HOUSE.

When eight years of age, I was taken to the "great house," or the family
mansion of my master, to serve as an errand boy, where I had to stand in
the presence of my master's family all the day, and a part of the night,
ready to do any thing which they commanded me to perform.

My master's family consisted of himself and wife, and seven children. His
overseer, whose name was Barsly Taylor, had also a wife and five children.
These constituted the white population on the plantation. Capt. Helm was
the owner of about one hundred slaves, which made the residents on the
plantation number about one hundred and sixteen persons in all. One
hundred and seven of them, were required to labor for the benefit of the
remaining nine, who possessed that vast domain; and one hundred of the
number doomed to unrequited toil, under the lash of a cruel task-master
during life, with no hope of release this side of the grave, and as far
as the cruel oppressor is concerned, shut out from hope beyond it.

And here let me ask, why is this practice of working slaves half clad,
poorly fed, with nothing or nearly so, to stimulate them to exertion, but
fear of the lash? Do the best interests of our common country require it?
I think not. Did the true interest of Capt. Helm demand it? Whatever may
have been his opinion, I cannot think it did. Can it be for the best
interest or good of the enslaved? Certainly not; for there is no real
inducement for the slaveholder to make beasts of burden of his fellow men,
but that which was frankly acknowledged by Gibbs and other pirates: "we
have the power,"--the power to rob and murder on the high seas!--which
they will undoubtedly continue to hold, until overtaken by justice; which
will certainly come some time, just as sure as that a righteous God reigns
over the earth or rules in heaven.

Some have attempted to apologize for the enslaving of the Negro, by saying
that they are inferior to the Anglo-Saxon race in every respect. This
charge I deny; it is utterly false. Does not the Bible inform us that
"God hath created of one blood all the nations of the earth?" And
certainly in stature and physical force the colored man is quite equal to
his white brother, and in many instances his superior; but were it
otherwise, I can not see why the more favored class should enslave the
other. True, God has given to the African a darker complexion than to his
white brother; still, each have the same desires and aspirations. The
food required for the sustenance of one is equally necessary for the
other. Naturally or physically, they alike require to be warmed by the
cheerful fire, when chilled by our northern winter's breath; and alike
they welcome the cool spring and the delightful shade of summer. Hence,
I have come to the conclusion that God created all men free and equal, and
placed them upon this earth to do good and benefit each other, and that
war and slavery should be banished from the face of the earth.

My dear reader will not understand me to say, that all nations are alike
intelligent, enterprising and industrious, for we all know that it is far
otherwise; but to man, and not to our Creator, should the fault be
charged. But, to resume our narrative,

Capt. Helm was not a very hard master; but generally was kind and
pleasant. Indulgent when in good humor, but like many of the southerners,
terrible when in a passion. He was a great sportsman, and very fond of
company. He generally kept one or two race horses, and a pack of hounds
for fox-hunting, which at that time, was a very common and fashionable
diversion in that section of country. He was not only a sportsman,
but a gamester, and was in the habit of playing cards, and sometimes
betting very high and losing accordingly.

I well remember an instance of the kind: it was when he played cards with
a Mr. W. Graham, who won from him in one sweep, two thousand and seven
hundred dollars in all, in the form of a valuable horse, prized at sixteen
hundred dollars, another saddle-horse of less value, one slave, and his
wife's gold watch. The company decided that all this was fairly won, but
Capt. Holm demurred, and refused to give up the property until an
application was made to Gen. George Washington, ("the father of his
country,") who decided that Capt. Helm had lost the game, and that Mr.
Graham had fairly won the property, of which Mr. G. took immediate
possession, and conveyed to his own plantation.

Capt. Helm was not a good business man, unless we call horse-racing,
fox-hunting, and card-playing, business. His overseer was entrusted with
every thing on the plantation, and allowed to manage about as he pleased,
while the Captain enjoyed himself in receiving calls from his wealthy
neighbors, and in drinking what he called "grog," which was no more nor
less than whisky, of which he was extremely fond, notwithstanding his
cellar contained the choicest wines and liquors. To show his partiality
for his favorite beverage, I will relate an incident which occurred
between Capt. Helm and Col. Charles Williamson. The Colonel, believing
wine to be a healthier beverage than whisky, accepted a bet made by Capt.
Helm, of one thousand dollars, that he would live longer and drink
whisky, than the Colonel, who drank wine. Shortly after, Col. Williamson
was called home by the British government, and while on his way to
England, died, and his body, preserved in a cask of brandy, was taken
home. The bet Capt. Helm made considerable effort to get, but was
unsuccessful.

Mrs. Helm was a very industrious woman, and generally busy in her
household affairs--sewing, knitting, and looking after the servants; but
she was a great scold,--continually finding fault with some of the
servants, and frequently punishing the young slaves herself, by striking
them over the head with a heavy iron key, until the blood ran; or else
whipping them with a cowhide, which she always kept by her side when
sitting in her room. The older servants she would cause to be punished
by having them severely whipped by a man, which she never failed to do for
every trifling fault. I have felt the weight of some of her heaviest keys
on my own head, and for the slightest offences. No slave could possibly
escape being punished--I care not how attentive they might be, nor how
industrious--punished they must be, and punished they certainly were. Mrs.
Helm appeared to be uneasy unless some of the servants were under the
lash. She came into the kitchen one morning and my mother, who was cook,
had just put on the dinner. Mrs. Helm took out her white cambric
handkerchief, and rubbed it on the inside of the pot, and it crocked it!
That was enough to invoke the wrath of my master, who came forth
immediately with his horse-whip, with which he whipped my poor mother
most unmercifully--far more severely than I ever knew him to whip a horse.

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