Autographs for Freedom, by Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe, and Thirty-five Other Eminent Writers — John Shaqi
Autographs for Freedom, by Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe, and Thirty-five Other Eminent Writers
History
Autographs for Freedom, by Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe, and Thirty-five Other Eminent Writers
Antislavery movements -- United States; Slavery -- United States
It so happened that I, being more closely confined by my duties at home,
had never seen Jerry, when in the summer following his coming to
Lilybank, Mrs. Lee went to visit her friends at the North, and took me
with her. Ida and Zilpha remained at home. We were gone three months. A
few days after our return, Zilpha told me that she was soon to be
married to Jerry. The poor child was very happy. She had evidently given
him her whole heart. We talked long that day, for I wanted to know how
it had been brought about, and she told me all, with the simplicity and
artlessness of a child. They had felt great anxiety less their masters
should oppose the marriage. But the fear was removed. Mr. Lee had
himself proposed it, and Mr. Minturn gladly consented. I rejoiced to see
my darling so happy, and felt truly thankful to God that the warm love
of her heart had not been blighted.
That same evening Jerry came to see Zilpha. She called me immediately,
for I had never seen him, and she wished us to meet. The moment I looked
upon his face, I knew he was my poor Elsie’s son. I grew sick and faint,
and thought I should have fallen.
Zilpha made me sit down, and brought me a glass of water, wondering all
the time, poor thing, what had made me ill so suddenly. I soon recovered
sufficiently to remember that I must not betray the cause of my
agitation. I did not speak much, but watched Jerry’s face as closely as
I could, without arresting their attention. Every moment strengthened
the conviction that my suspicion was correct. There was the same proud
look that Elsie had, the same flashing eye, and slightly curled lip, and
when he carelessly brushed back the hair from his forehead, I saw a scar
upon it, which I knew was caused by a fall but a little while before his
mother died. O God! I thought, what will become of my darling child!
I soon left the room, on the pretence that my mistress wanted me, but
really that I might shut myself into my own room and think. I did not
close my eyes that night, and when the morning dawned, I was as far as
ever from knowing what I ought to do. At last I resolved to see the
master as early as I could, and tell him all.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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