Autobiography of a Female SlaveBrowne, Martha Griffith
History
Autobiography of a Female Slave
Browne, Martha Griffith
African American women -- Fiction; Didactic fiction; Enslaved women -- Fiction; Kentucky -- Fiction; Slavery -- Fiction
This announcement was like a panic to the poor, broken-spirited
wretches. They looked wonderingly at young master, and then at each
other, never uttering a word.
"Come, do not look so bewildered. Ah, you do not believe me; but, good
as is this news, it is true; is it not, father?"
"Yes, my son, it is true."
When Mr. Peterkin spoke, they simultaneously started. That voice had
power to recall them from the wildest dream of romance. Though softened
by sorrow and suffering, there was still enough of the wonted harshness
to make those poor wretches know it was Mr. Peterkin who spoke, and they
quaked with fear.
"In the new home and new position in life, which you will take, my
friends, I hope you will not forget me; but, above all things, try to
save your souls. Go to church; pray much and often. Place yourselves
under God's protection, and all will be right. You, Jake, had better
select as an occupation that of a farmer, or manager of a farm for some
one of those wealthy but humane men of the Northern States. You, Dan,
can make an excellent dray driver; and at that business, in some of the
Northern cities, you would make money. Sally can get a situation as
cook; and Ann, where is Ann?" he said, as he looked around.
I stepped out from a retired corner of the room, into which I had shrunk
for the purpose of indulging my grief unobserved.
"Don't weep, Ann," he began; "you distress me when you do so. You ought,
rather, to rejoice, because I shall so soon be set free from this
unhappy condition. If you love me, prepare to meet me in heaven. This
earth is not our home; 'tis but a transient abiding-place, and, to one
of my sensitive temperament, it has been none the happiest. I am glad
that I am going; yet a few pangs I feel, in bidding you farewell; but
think of me only as one gone upon a pleasant journey from snow-clad
regions to a land smiling with tropic beauty, rich in summer bloom and
vocal with the melody of southern birds! Think of me as one who has
exchanged the garments of a beggar for the crown of a king and the
singing-robes of a prophet. I hope you will do well in life, and I would
advise that you improve your education, and then become a teacher. You
are fitted for that position. You could fill it with dignity. Do all
you can to elevate the mind as well as manners of your most unfortunate
race. And now, poor old Nace, what pursuit must I recommend to you?"
After a moment's pause, he added with a smile, "I will point out none;
for you are Yankee enough, Nace, to get along anywhere."
He then requested that we should all kneel, whilst he besought for us
and himself the blessings of Divine grace.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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