The Bondwoman's Narrative

by Hannah Crafts

  “The Lord bless and sustain you” she articulated whispering with the greatest difficulty.

  “Don’t speak dearest, it will make you worse.”

  A gleam of satisfaction shone over her face. There was a gasp, a struggle, a slight shiver of the limbs and she was free.

  CHAPTER 8

  A New Master

  Arise, Oh Lord; Oh God, lift up thy hand forget not the humble.

  DAVID

  My beloved companion, my idolised mistress I know not where they laid her. I know not whether it was consecrated ground, whether the holy ritual of religion was celebrated over her remains, or whether she was borne away unceremoniously and with little thought to an unblest tomb. The poor priveledge of weeping over her lifeless form was denied me, and as if to augment my misery I was ordered back to the apartment we had inhabited together. Could it be that the events of the past few hours were not a horrible dream? Every thing wore its old familiar face, the chairs, the table, the walls, the ceiling, the bed, the books in which she had read, the embroidery we had wrought together, but I was alone. No kind compassionate countenance beamed upon me, no sweet familiar voice greeted my ear, yet weeping, sighing, moaning in utter loneliness I felt in my heart that it was better much better for her. She had escaped wo[e] and oppression, and insult, and degradation. Through death she had conquered her enemy, and rose triumphant above his machinations, and I longed to follow her. Life had no m Doomed to slavery, hopeless unmitigated slavery, subjected to the power of one so cruel and unrelenting I even prayed for death, prayed that the great Creator in his infinite mercy would take me to himself. But my days of probation were not destined to be thus soon and happily ended. I had yet other toils and trials to endure, other scenes of suffering and anguish to pass through, no doubt for some wise purpose to be known in that world which solves the enigma of this.

  After exhausting a sleepless night in vain efforts to compose my mind and become reconciled to the fate that probably awaited me I arose in the morning really ill, nervous, and disheartened with a despondency. The old man servant came with my breakfast. It was good, but I could not eat. Mental anxiety precluded the gratification of the senses, and I turned with loathing from the snowy bread and golden butter. It seemed like preparation for the sacrifice.

  “You had much better eat” he said “as there’s a long journey before you to[-]day.[”]

  “What kind of journey?” I inquired.

  “Why you’re sold” he answered in evident surprise that I was unaware of such an important change in my affairs.

  “To whom?”

  “Why to Saddler, the slave-trader but maybe I hadn’t ought to tell you” he continued.

  “Are you sure of this?”

  “Surtin [certain] I am” and a grinning a sort of demoniacal smile he carried away the breakfast things.

  In most cases there is something horrible in the idea of being bought and sold; it sent a thrill to my heart, a shiver through my brain. For a moment I felt dizzy, but a moment only. I had experienced too much trouble and anxiety to be overwhelmed by this. Then, too, I thought that though my perishable body was at their disposal, my soul was beyond their reach. They could never quench my immortality, shake my abiding faith and confidence in God, or destroy my living assurance in the efficacy of the dying Saviour’s blood.

  The old man, however, was mistaken. I was not sold, though though every thing was tending to that consummation. Towards noon I heard the roll of wheels and the tramp of horse’s feet, evidently approaching the house. To these noises succeeded the echoing footsteps of a man, then there was a murmur of voices in an adjoining apartment and presently the door communicating with mine was thrown open; while some one said audibly “There she is.” I knew the voice to be Mr Trappe’s, but a stranger a answered “Why Trappe I thought you said that she was beautiful; in my eye she’s excessively homely.”

  “But you haven’t seen the good haven’t seen her good points yet” said Trappe “walk in and take a fair estimate of her attractions, they are neither small nor few.”

  Both men came in, while I shrunk into a distant corner.

  “Nay: Hannah, that won’t do” said Trappe. “Come out here and show yourself. I don’t think Mr Saddler ever saw a better looking wench. Come out I say.[”]

  I obeyed reluctantly.

  “Now I’ll tell you what” said Trappe. “You won’t find a nicer bit of woman’s flesh to be bought for that money in old Virginia. Don’t you see what a foot she has, so dainty and delicate, and what an ankle. I don’t see how in conscience you can expect me to take any less. Why you’d make a small fortune of her at that rate.”

  “How you talk” said Saddler. “I’ve bought finer wenches often and often for less money. Then you see she’s skittish which makes some difference. However as I’m making up a gang I wouldn’t mind having her. But I think you told me that you wanted to dispose of two. Where is the other one?”

  “Dead.”

  Saddler received this announcement with a look of profound surprise and repeated “dead.”

  “As a door nail” said Trappe.

  “Why? how? what was the matter?” inquired Saddler. [“]If my memory serves me right you said that she was well only two or three days ago.”

  [“]She did not die of disease. The truth is she broke a blood vessel. I reckon it a clear loss of one or two thousand.”

  “How unfortunate” said Saddler. “But these wenches will die. I have sometimes thought that accidents happened to them oftener than to others. I have lost much in that way myself; probably ten thousand dollars wouldn’t cover the amount. If the business in general had not been so lucrative it would have such things would have broke me up long ago. You see my trade is altogether in the line of good-looking wenches, and these are a deal sight worse to manage than men—every way more skittish and skeery [scary]. Then it don’t do to cross them much; or if you do they’ll cut up the devil, and like as anyhow break their necks, or pine themselves to skeletons. I lost six in one season and out of one company. I had orders to fill at New Orleans and all for young and beautiful women without children. Now a woman of eighteen or twenty without a child, and a slave, is not so easy to find, to say nothing of looking for fifty or a hundred.”

  “Rather a difficulty I should think” said Trappe. [“]I’ve had some experience of that kind myself.”

  Trembling with fear I shrank back into the corner, while the gentlemen having seated themselves pursued the conversation. Mr Trappe meanwhile keeping his eye on me.

  “At last I concluded” continued Saddler “to take the women with or without children, and get clear of the brats somehow, in any way that offered. But heavens, how they did carry on, and one, Louise by name, and the freshest and fairest in the gang, actually jumped into the river when she found that her child was irretrievably gone. Another one escaped and ran off to the place where she supposed her boy to have been carried. The overseer was the first to discover her, and knowing her to be a stranger, he lugged her off with the blood-hounds. They were real devils fierce, eager, and fiery—they tore her dreadfully, spoiled all her beauty, rendering her utterly unfit for my traffic; and so I sold her for a song. Now this one—what’s her name?”

  “Hannah.”

  “Thank you; now Hannah.”

  “Has no child” suggested Mr Trappe.

  “Has no child” repeated Saddler “which is great advantage, but it seems that she’s given to running away.”

  “Not at all” returned Trappe. “No one could be more peaceable and contented than she is. That running away was altogether the fault of the other one, and something Hannah would never have thought of had she been left alone.”

  “Is she good-tempered?”

  “Lord love you, the best tempered in the world, kind trusty, and religious.”

  [“]Bah: I hardly think that religion will do her much good, or make her more subservient to the wishes of my employers. On the whole I should prefer that she wasn’t religi
ous, but I suppose that they can drive it out of her because religion is so apt to make people stubborn; it gives them such notions of duty, and that one thing is right and another thing wrong; it sets them up so, you’ll even hear them telling that all mankind are made of one blood, and equal in the sight of God.”

  “There may be something in that” said Mr Trappe.

  “There is something in it, there’s a great deal in it” pursued Saddler “give me a handsome wench, pleasant and good-tempered, willing to conform herself to circumstances, and anxious to please, without any notions of virtue, religion, or anything of that sort. Such are by far the most marketable, provided they have health, are young and show off to advantage.”

  “Well, Hannah does show off” answered Trappe. “Come out here again, and walk across the room. No disobedience, mind that:”

  I walked forth.

  “There’s a gait for you” said Trappe. “Few women can walk well, but Hannah does. She holds her head gracefully. Don’t you think so?”

  “Tolerable” said Saddler.

  “She has a fine shape, good teeth, beautiful hair and fair complexion; is young; in high health; has good spirits and amiable disposition. Why fifteen hundred dollars is nothing, nothing at all put in the scale against such a woman. She’ll bring you two thousand easy.”

  “I’m not so certain of that. She might possibly, provided I had her there, and she might not. It all depends on how she stands the journey. She may look old, worn and faded, and then I could scarcely one thousand for her However at a risk I will give you twelve hundred realize one half that sum. However I’ll give you twelve hundred at a risk.”

  “Say thirteen and take her” said Trappe.

  “Sorry that I can’t” answered Saddler “but twelve hundred is really too much. Only think of my expense in getting her to the market, to say nothing of the risk. I think it would be a wise plan to have the lives of such wenches insured.[”]

  “Oh you’ll have no risk with her on that score. Not a bit of it. Just get her into the wagon, put on the cuffs and she’ll be safe enough.”

  “And you’ll take twelve hundred?”

  “Suppose I must though I am very certain it is not enough.”

  Saddler drew a leather wallet from his pocket, slowly counted out the money, and laying it on the table requested Mr Trappe to see that it was right. He examined it, pronounced it good, and proceeded to make out a bill of sale. That concluded, Trappe came to where I stood weeping.

  “What the devil are you crying for?” he asked “Are you then so sorry to leave me?”

  “No sir, I am not” I faltered.

  Saddler laughed as if he thought my reply a good joke.

  “What is the matter then.”

  “Oh never mind” said Saddler. “These women with their whims, and caprices, and tears, and fooleries are the greatest plagues imaginable. Why they’ll cry a dozen times a day, and you’ll know no more than the dead what ails ’em. They puzzled me terribly for awhile and then I found out that the best plan was to just let them alone. If they wanted to cry why let ’em and pay no attention to it.”

  Saddler laughed again. No so with Mr Trappe. He never laughed. You might as well have accused him of love or sentimentality as of laughing. His countenance seldom if ever relaxed into a smile. His lips could curl with disdain, his brow lower with hate, his eye sparkle with revenge, but he could not laugh.

  Again he began in his cold ironical tone. “You know Hannah that it is a lawyer’s business to give advice.”

  “Certainly it is” said Saddler.

  I had no voice to speak.

  [“]And such being the case I propose to bestow about five dollars’ worth on Hannah, as a parting gift that she can keep by way of remembrance.[”]

  His manner more than his words vexed and irritated me. He seemed so sedately satisfied, so calmly pleased. Passion gave me strength to speak.

  “I want none of your gifts. Were such a thing possible I would forget your name and existence; for I feel that the thought of you must always be a haunting curse to my memory” and again I burst into tears.

  There might have been a slight contraction more than usual on his brow, and a rapid gleam of hate or satisfied malice shone in his eye, but quickly passed and his countenance became like a frozen lake when lit by moonlight, cold, unimpassioned, and utterly dead to all feelings of sympathy as he began.

  [“]I shall tell you nothing that you are not old enough to know without my telling it. Good sense must long ago have taught you that obedience was the chief essential to one in your condition— that you must never dream of sitting [sic] up an independent will—must have no mind, no desire, no purpose of your own. You will find few masters like Mr Vincent, and where you are going other duties and services, and those perhaps more irksome than those required in his family will be expected of you, but never for a moment forget that submission and obedience must be the Alpha and Omega of all your actions.”

  Though this advice was probably well adapted to one in my condition, that is if I could have forgotten God, truth, honor, and my own soul; it was manifestly not given with any kind intention. He loved to probe the human heart to its inmost depths, and watch the manifestations of its living agony. He wished to vary the modes of my mental torture, and to make me realize that in both soul and body I was indeed a slave.

  I turned from the cold icy glitter of his eye, and he went on.

  “But whatever you do, whatever you be, or whatever hardships you meet never think of running away. No good could come of it in any case. You would almost certainly be caught, and if not, you would be certain to perish miserably, perhaps hunted and torn to pieces by dogs, or perhaps eaten alive by the vultures when reduced by famine and privation to a dying state. You must bear what you have to bear, and that’s the long and short of the matter.”

  Saying this he really seemed pleased, but miserable as I was, helpless, hopeless almost hopeless and a slave I felt that my condition for eternity if not for time, was perferable to his, and that I would not even for the blessed boon of freedom change places with him; since even freedom without God and religion would be a barren posession.

  “Well I must be off” said Saddler after a short pause.

  “Hannah you will go with me?”

  His voice was really kind.

  “I suppose, Sir, that I must” I answered.

  “But don’t you go willingly, don’t you want to go. Why you don’t know what good fortune may be in store for you. Some of my girls have done first rate. I bought one up here last season, took her to New Orleans, put her in the market, and sold her to a rich man, who became so much pleased with her person and accomplishments that he has since given her freedom and made her his wife. What’s happened once may happen again, and I shouldn’t at all wonder if some such good thing was to fall in your way.”

  “Is that the way you flatter your gals?” said Trappe.

  “I always coax and flatter first, if that don’t answer I resort to harsher measures.”

  “And does it answer?”

  [“]For the most part it does; admirably too I have no difficulty, except when there’s a child in the case. Hannah will be docile as a lamb I know.”

  “You’d better put on the cuffs” suggested Trappe. “Make her safe first, comfortable afterwards.”

  “No, Trappe I shan’t do it. I never put irons on women unless they prove refractory. You are going to be good a[i]n’t you Hannah?”

  “Yes Sir” I sobbed. “I know you will

  “There’s no knowing” interposed Trappe.

  “Yes there is” answered Saddler. “I believe that Hannah can be trusted. I almost know she can. I see it in her countenance, and I’ve got eyes that most ofte are seldom deceived in the human face.[”]

  CHAPTER 9

  The Slave-trader

  “Remember, Oh Lord, what is come upon us; consider, and behold our reproach.”

  JEREMIAH

  My new master I followed h
im to the little wagon. Just outside the yard, we got in, and he drove off. My mind was too busily occupied, and my thoughts too confused and agitated for any close observation of what we passed, or whither we went. I remember, however that it had been raining for the roads were very slippery, and little ponds of water, and sometimes quite large ones, were gathered in all the holes and shallow places. But the air was fresh and bracing, and had a fragrant smell of buds and early flowers.

  I remember too that I was quite surprised that spring had so far advanced, and that even my anxiety or sorrow gave way before a sensation of pleasure awakened by the vernal influences of nature. The lambs were skipping beside the dams, the trees were alive with the harmony of birds busily engaged in building their nests. We could see them passing and repassing with feathers, horse-hair and small sticks in their little bills, and it almost brought tears into my eyes to think how free they were, and how happy they must be. Then I remembered the words of our Saviour that God even noticed the fall of a sparrow, and that the least of his disciples was of more value than many of them. Soothed by his comforting assurance my mind became composed, and I fell into a sort of reverie in which the past, present, and future seemed indistinctly blended. I thought of the stately mansion of Lindendale, its master and mine, the portrait of Sir Clifford, the Linden tree with its ominous creak; then of my mistress beautiful, young, and beloved, after that of her affection as she appeared on her bridal night; as she looked afterwards worn, weary, and half dead with apprehension, of all we felt and suffered together in the wilderness, and in prison, of her sudden death, and then I wept, not that she had escaped from the tormentor, but that I did not know the place of her burial. It would have been so comforting to associate the idea of her last resting place with some green spot overswept by soft shadows and adorned with wild flowers. Then by a sudden transition I thought of the place to which I was going, of the people I should see and serve, what they would say and whether I should like them and they me. I was recalled to passing events by a sudden start of the horse, and the voice of Saddler calling “to take care.” I came near falling over at which he laughed and then inquired of what I was thinking.