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
"Wal," he said, half aloud, "whar is the use of my darters takin' on in
the way they does? Jist look at the sight o' money that has bin laid out
in that ar' tom-foolery."
This was a sort of soliloquy spoken in a tone audible enough to be
distinct to us.
He drew his cob-pipe from his mouth, and a huge volume of smoke curled
round his head, and filled the room with the aroma of tobacco.
"Now," he continued, "they does not treat me wid any perliteness. They
thinks they knows a power more than I does; but if they don't cut their
cards square, I'll cut them short of a nigger or two, and make John all
the richer by it."
Lindy cut her eye knowingly at this, and gave me rather a strong nudge
with her elbow.
"Keep still thar, gals, and don't rattle them cups and sassers so
powerful hard."
By this time Lindy had finished the assortment of the silver, and had
carefully stowed it away in a willow-basket, ready to be delivered to
Miss Jane, and thence consigned to the drawer, where it would remain in
_statu quo_ until the timely advent of another guest.
"Now," she said, "I am ready to wipe the dishes, while you wash."
Thereupon I handed her a saucer, which, in her carelessness, she let
slip from her hand, and it fell upon the floor, and there, with great
consternation, I beheld it lying, shattered to fragments. Mr. Peterkin
sprang to his feet, glad of an excuse to vent his temper upon some one.
"Which of you cussed wretches did this?"
"'Twas Ann, master! She let it fall afore I got my hand on it."
Ere I had time to vindicate myself from the charge, his iron arm felled
me to the floor, and his hoof-like foot was placed upon my shrinking
chest.
"You d--n yallow hussy, does you think I buys such expensive chany-ware
for you to break up in this ar' way? No, you 'bominable wench, I'll have
revenge out of your saffer'n hide. Here, Lindy, fetch me that cowhide."
"Mercy, master, mercy," I cried, when he had removed his foot from my
breast, and my breath seemed to come again. "Oh, listen to me; it was
not I who broke the saucer, it was only an accident; but oh, in God's
name, have mercy on me and Lindy."
"Yes, I'll tache you what marcy is. Here, quick, some of you darkies,
bring me a rope and light. I'm goin' to take this gal to the
whippin'-post."
This overcame me, for, though I had often been cruelly beaten, yet had I
escaped the odium of the "post;" and now for what I had not done, and
for a thing which, at the worst, was but an accident, to bear the
disgrace and the pain of a public whipping, seemed to me beyond
endurance. I fell on my knees before him:
"Oh, master, please pardon me; spare me this time. I have got a
half-dollar that Master Edward gave me when you bought me, I will give
you that to pay for the saucer, but please do not beat me."
With a wild, fiendish grin, he caught me by the hair and swung me round
until I half-fainted with pain.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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