The History of Mary Prince, a West Indian SlavePrince, Mary
History
The History of Mary Prince, a West Indian Slave
Prince, Mary
Fugitive slaves -- West Indies -- Biography; Prince, Mary; Slavery -- West Indies
When I got better I was anxious to get some work to do, as I was unwilling
to eat the bread of idleness. Mrs. Mash, who was a laundress, recommended
me to a lady for a charwoman. She paid me very handsomely for what work I
did, and I divided the money with Mrs. Mash; for though very poor, they
gave me food when my own money was done, and never suffered me to want.
In the spring, I got into service with a lady, who saw me at the house
where I sometimes worked as a charwoman. This lady's name was Mrs.
Forsyth. She had been in the West Indies, and was accustomed to Blacks,
and liked them. I was with her six months, and went with her to Margate.
She treated me well, and gave me a good character when she left London.[15]
[Footnote 15: She refers to a written certificate which will be inserted
afterwards.]
After Mrs. Forsyth went away, I was again out of place, and went to
lodgings, for which I paid two shillings a week, and found coals and
candle. After eleven weeks, the money I had saved in service was all gone,
and I was forced to go back to the Anti-Slavery office to ask a supply,
till I could get another situation. I did not like to go back--I did not
like to be idle. I would rather work for my living than get it for
nothing. They were very good to give me a supply, but I felt shame at
being obliged to apply for relief whilst I had strength to work.
At last I went into the service of Mr. and Mrs. Pringle, where I have been
ever since, and am as comfortable as I can be while separated from my dear
husband, and away from my own country and all old friends and connections.
My dear mistress teaches me daily to read the word of God, and takes great
pains to make me understand it. I enjoy the great privilege of being
enabled to attend church three times on the Sunday; and I have met with
many kind friends since I have been here, both clergymen and others. The
Rev. Mr. Young, who lives in the next house, has shown me much kindness,
and taken much pains to instruct me, particularly while my master and
mistress were absent in Scotland. Nor must I forget, among my friends, the
Rev. Mr. Mortimer, the good clergyman of the parish, under whose ministry
I have now sat for upwards of twelve months. I trust in God I have
profited by what I have heard from him. He never keeps back the truth, and
I think he has been the means of opening my eyes and ears much better to
understand the word of God. Mr. Mortimer tells me that he cannot open the
eyes of my heart, but that I must pray to God to change my heart, and make
me to know the truth, and the truth will make me free.
I still live in the hope that God will find a way to give me my liberty,
and give me back to my husband. I endeavour to keep down my fretting, and
to leave all to Him, for he knows what is good for me better than I know
myself. Yet, I must confess, I find it a hard and heavy task to do so.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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