Autobiography of a Female SlaveBrowne, Martha Griffith
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Autobiography of a Female Slave
Browne, Martha Griffith
African American women -- Fiction; Didactic fiction; Enslaved women -- Fiction; Kentucky -- Fiction; Slavery -- Fiction
"It is I, my love; I have just got through with my work, and I came to
see you. Finding you asleep, I sat down beside you to hum a favorite
air; but I fear, that instead of calming, I have broken your slumber,
sweet."
"No, dearest, I am glad to be aroused. I feel so much better than I have
felt for weeks. My head is free from fever, and except for the absence
of strength, am as well as I ever was."
"Oh, it makes me really happy to hear you say so. I have been so uneasy
about you. The doctor was afraid of congestion of the brain. You cannot
know how I suffered in mind about you; but now your flesh feels cool and
pleasant, and your strength will, I trust, soon return."
Just then Louise entered, bearing a cup of tea and a nice brown slice of
toast, and a delicate piece of chicken, on a neat little salver. At
sight of this dainty repast, my long-forgotten appetite returned, with a
most healthful vigor. But my kind nurse, who was glad to find me so
well, determined to keep me so, and would not allow me a hearty
indulgence of appetite.
In a few days I was able to sit up in an easy chair, and, at every
opportunity, Louise would amuse me with some piece of pleasant gossip,
in relation to the boarders, &c. And Henry, my good, kind, noble Henry,
spent all his spare change in buying oranges and pine-apples for me, and
in sending rare bouquets, luxuries in which I took especial delight.
Then, during the long, cheerful autumnal evenings, when a fire sparkled
in the grate, he would, after his work was done, bring his banjo and
play for me; whilst his rich, gushing voice warbled some old familiar
song. Its touching plaintiveness often brought the tears to my eyes.
Thus passed a few weeks pleasantly enough for me; but like all the other
rose-winged hours, they soon had a close.
My strength had been increasing rapidly, and Mr. Moodwell, the brother
and agent of my mistress, concluded that I was strong enough to be hired
out. Accordingly, he apprized me of his intention, saying,
"Ann, sister Nancy has written me word to hire you out until spring,
when she will return and take you home. I have selected a place for you,
in the capacity of house-servant. You must behave yourself well."
I assured him that I would do my best; then asked the name of the family
to whom I was hired.
"To Josiah Smith, on Chestnut street, I have hired you. He has two
daughters and a young niece living with him, and wishes you to wait on
them."
After apprizing Henry and Louise of my new home, _pro tem._, I
requested the former to bring my trunk out that night, which he readily
promised. Bidding them a kind and cheerful adieu, I followed Mr.
Moodwell out to Chestnut street.
This is one of the most retired and beautiful streets in the city of
L----, and Mr. Josiah Smith's residence the very handsomest among a
number of exceedingly elegant mansions.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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