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
Madison looked quite astonished, and felt amazed at the narration to
which he had listened. After recovering himself he said, “I well
remember that morning, and the bitter anguish that wrung my heart; I
will state the occasion of it. I had, on the previous Saturday, suffered
a cruel lashing; had been tied up to the limb of a tree, with my feet
chained together, and a heavy iron bar placed between my ankles. Thus
suspended, I received on my naked back forty stripes, and was kept in
this distressing position three or four hours, and was then let down,
only to have my torture increased; for my bleeding back, gashed by the
cow-skin, was washed by the overseer with old brine, partly to augment
my suffering, and partly, as he said, to prevent inflammation. My crime
was that I stayed longer at the mill, the day previous, than it was
thought I ought to have done, which, I assured my master and the
overseer, was no fault of mine; but no excuses were allowed. ‘Hold your
tongue, you impudent rascal,’ met my every explanation. Slave-holders
are so imperious when their passions are excited, as to construe every
word of the slave into insolence. I could do nothing but submit to the
agonizing infliction. Smarting still from the wounds, as well as from
the consciousness of being whipt for no cause, I took advantage of the
absence of my master, who had gone to church, to spend the time in the
woods, and brood over my wretched lot. Oh, sir, I remember it well,—and
can never forget it.”
“But this was five years ago; where have you been since?”
“I will try to tell you,” said Madison. “Just four weeks after that
Sabbath morning, I gathered up the few rags of clothing I had, and
started, as I supposed, for the North and for freedom. I must not stop
to describe my feelings on taking this step. It seemed like taking a
leap into the dark. The thought of leaving my poor wife and two little
children caused me indescribable anguish; but consoling myself with the
reflection that once free, I could, possibly, devise ways and means to
gain their freedom also, I nerved myself up to make the attempt. I
started, but ill-luck attended me; for after being out a whole week,
strange to say, I still found myself on my master’s grounds; the third
night after being out, a season of clouds and rain set in, wholly
preventing me from seeing the North Star, which I had trusted as my
guide, not dreaming that clouds might intervene between us.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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