Enslaved persons -- United States -- Biography; Mason, Isaac, 1822-
Though I was but a poor, despised slave, having no rights that I could
call my own, even to the refusal of such food that I could not eat, yet
I possessed that principle of true manhood to despise deceit in my
employers. Here I found a man who had told me from time to time how to
serve God, how to live right, and now had proved to be a base deceiver
and a falsifier. Instead of the note asking for turkeys and geese, it
was to whip me for what they deemed impudence. Could I believe him
hereafter? Could I trust him any more? No! he had told me a lie. My
confidence in him was gone, and my feelings towards him were changed.
Was I happy or contented? No! for I did not know how soon another trap
would be set for me to fall into the hands of my enemies. This uncertain
state of mind was my daily, but yet unpleasant, companion. Its duration
was uncertain. I would have felt somewhat at ease if the boss had
inflicted this punishment, but he would not do it.
On December 15 Mr. Mansfield sent me down to the wharf to Jim Frisby, to
get his scow, and proceed up to Mr. Wallace’s and get ten cords of
hickory wood. I was told to take another man with me. As I had to enter
within the bounds of Wallace’s estate again, I concluded to prepare
myself for emergencies and a hasty retreat. I had come to know the
trickery of the man I was dealing with and was determined to disappoint
him. Jim Frisby was an old colored man who owned the scow, and he owned,
besides, a small boat—just what was needed, and served my purpose
admirably. While arranging for the scow I also bargained for the boat,
taking care not to divulge my secret to any one. About ten o’clock we
started on our journey. The distance was but five miles, the tide was
running in our favor, and we were soon at our journey’s end. We found
the wood piled up on the shore ready for us. We began to load up the
scow, but night came on us so fast that we could not finish. We took our
lunch into the small boat and rowed to the other side of the creek, and
sought out an old barn that I had frequently seen in that neighborhood,
where we rested for the night. Being tired after our day’s work we soon
sought sweet sleep for our weary bodies.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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