The Bondwoman's Narrative

by Hannah Crafts

  “And, Missus” continued Joe, “he looked so orful.”

  “How did he look, Jo?”

  [“]I cant ’scribe it, but orful, so orful, that I jumped up quicker dan dese old bones hab moved afore dis menny a day. He guv fist [gave first] one spring arter [after] me as I shot by, and den he vanished.”

  “I am not so sure of that, Jo.”

  Waiting till Jo partly recovered from his fright I persuaded the old fellow to leave me, and go to bed, as I wished to be alone.

  We had that day heard that Charlotte’s husband, having after being severely, and as he thought unjustly punished by his master had run away, and that he had been that he had been gone several days, and that all efforts to discover his place of concealment had signally failed. It occurred to me at once that some connection existed between his elopement and the appearance of this ghost, or was the man and the ghost identical? The conjecture was wild, though not beyond the bounds of probability. I determined at once to fathom the mystery without reflecting whether honor or justice strictly considered required such exertion on my part. Neither did I pause to ask myself by what right I presumed to interfere with the secrets of a house where I was myself admitted only by tolerance, but settling in my mind the best manner of proceeding I drew on my cloak and bonnet, and passed without noise from my room, and thence by a narrow entry reached the outer door. This I opened and shut silently, and passing around the house in its broad shadow paused immediately beneath the windows of Charlotte’s room. These were usually shaded by white curtains so delicate and thin, that the light could be readily discerned shining through them, but it seemed to me that in order to court security, if her runaway husband were really concealed within, some deeper and darker drapery would probably be considered necessary. Neither was I disappointed. Paper hangings were suspended over the white curtains, though at the bottom of one, which slightly rolled up, the gleam of a lamp within could be distinctly seen. This rather stimulated than gratified my curiosity. For what purpose was he there; did Mr Henry know of it; would he approve of Charlotte’s concealing him, and were would not serious consequences ensue if the matter became known. Such and similar questions arose to my mind at once, and I determined to acquaint Mr Henry of my suspicions in the morning.

  Then I recollected that I had no certain proof; that it [was] mere belief, founded on impressions I could scarcely analyze, and certainly could not transmit to any one else, and that silence after all would probably be the wisest course.

  From my post of observation I could discover nothing more, but I knew very well that her room had only one door, and that her visitor must make his exit as he had entered; for certain detection would follow any attempt to remain in that apartment during the day, it being one of those appropriated to the children. Re-entering the house without noise I was just in time to discover two persons softly gliding out by another door. I felt certain that they had not discovered me, and I quickly perceived that one was a man, the other a woman, and it was no difficult matter to decide their identity. I hesitated a moment, and then decided to follow them though not sufficiently near to excite observation.

  Gliding directly down the graveled walks, they paused for an instant only before the small gate that communicated with a narrow lane, or bye-road shaded on either side by forest and fruit trees. The gate opened and shut mechanically, and I lost sight of them in the broad deep shadows. The night had been beautifully bright and starlight [sic], but a cloud was rising and the heavens became blacker and darker every moment. The wind soughed wildly among the branches, and the gleam of lightning accompanied at intervals by the low distant mutter of thunder betokened an approaching shower. I felt my resolution giving way, not that night, or darkness, or tempest were the occasion of terror. I could have braved them all in a good cause, but I began to question the use, or necessity, or even the expediency of my instituting an espionage on the actions of one every way my equal, perhaps my superior. Wherefore should I attempt to unravel a mystery that did not concern me, or to interfere in affairs, of which I should only be an observer. Then would not ignorance be more consistent with my own peace? How could I acquit my conscience of cruelty and wrong if through discoveries made and information given by me the happiness of Charlotte and her husband should be destroyed, by his subjection for the second time into servitude.

  Full of these thoughts I retreated into the house, and to my room, half ashamed that I had suffered my curiosity to overstep the bounds of strict propriety.

  It was near morning when Charlotte returned, though I had not yet been asleep.

  The next morning the old house-keeper sought Mrs Henry with a great complaint. The rats, she said, had devoured her pies, and made sad havoc with the cakes. Charlotte was present, and her cheeks burned, and her eyes fell beneath the gaze of mine. Jo declared that the ghost had doubtless eaten them, but several others well versed in such matters assured him that ghosts did not eat. From this difference a quarrel arose, that finally terminated in heavy blows, and Mr Henry was oblidged to settle the difficulty by refusing any further allusion to the subject.

  Sometime that day Charlotte contrived to slip a note privately into my hands. I thrust it into my pocket and made an excuse for retiring that I might read it. It ran thus

  “Will you have the goodness to favor an unfortunate woman with a private interview to[-]night in the bower at the bottom of the garden; the hour of meeting midnight.”

  Charlotte

  With a penetrating glance of inquiry she looked towards me, when I came again into her presence. I slightly nodded when her countenance brightened up with pleasure, and she soon after left the apartment.

  I spent the time in vain conjectures of what could be the purport of Charlotte’s errand with me. That it was something connected with her husband I doubted not, but if she required assistance why not make a confidant of Mrs Henry, or of some one less helpless than myself. Of what use could I be to them, or why should they burden me with a secret that I began to think must be onerous? At last it occurred to me that I was attaching to[o] much importance to the whole affair, that it might be nothing of importance consequence, and that it would be much the wisest course to dismiss the subject from my mind.

  It was the Sabbath, and Mr Henry was accustomed to instruct his servants in the great truths of the Gospel on that day. His labors, however, occupied only the morning hours, and were confined to catechetical instruction, while during the afternoon they held prayer meetings among themselve meetings for prayer and exhortation in which any one who wished to was permitted to hold forth.

  In attending these religious exercises I found an agre[e]able diversion for my thoughts. The appeals to heaven though not characterised by much grace or elegance of diction were nevertheless earnest and fervid, and I doubt not that they found a place in the vial of odours which the angel in the apocalypse offered before the Throne of God.

  After the evening repast I attended Mrs Henry in a very pleasant walk among the various negro lodges, and in looking over their little truck patches and gardens, all of which gave evidence of being neatly attended in the absence of weeds and the appearances of thrifty growth in the various plants, vegetables, and flowers, designed for use and ornament. Various groups of persons, young and old, all of whom seemed impressed with a feeling of reverence of the day reverential feeling of the sanctity of the day, and of regard for their mistress, were seated on little low benches at their doors, quiet[l]y enjoying the beauty of the evening. They all rose with courteous reverence to salute us as we passed, and invited us to walk over their grounds, and gather such flowers as we liked. I shall not soon forget the pleasing intimation of a devotional character impressed on each little party, by some perhaps formally assumed, but sincerely characterising the greater number, hushing the cheerful gayety of the young into a more quiet, though no less interesting exchange of sentiments, and suppressing the vehement arguments of those in more advanced age.

  Sauntering along by one of the lodges, whic
h stood a little apart from the others in a picturesque spot beneath the shade of some trees we were surprised to hear the sharp and unmusical voice of Jo detailing to a group of wondering listeners an account of his last night’s ghostly visitant. Of course the story lost nothing of the strange or marvellous by the recital, and the ludicrous countenances of the auditors, as they were variously excited by fear, wonder and apprehension were enough to have provoked a smile on the lip of Heraclitus. Their remarks were no less comical, as no one thought of attributing the appearance to natural causes.

  “Lord help de poor gose” said one old woman, with a withered smoke-dried face, black as ebony. “Doh say somebody hab been kilt, though I don’t see no use of haunting ebery body ’cause dat.”

  Others delivered themselves with equal effect; while an expression of deep concern and anxiety was manifested in the countenance of Mrs Henry.

  “It is really strange,” she remarked, as we returned towards the house. “My servants were never indulged in superstitious tendencies, I am not aware that previous to this time there was cherished any such fears and apprehensions I have always striven to instruct them better than to put any confidence in such wild and unfounded reports. Jo was certainly drunk, and as all the servants are acquainted with his peculiar failing how absurd it is in them to encourage him to tell such stories.[”] by listen

  “And yet, Mrs Henry, there may be something in it after all” I answered.

  “Why, Hannah, superstitious, too” she said looking into my face with peculiar archness.

  “Not a particle of it, Madam” I replied. “And yet I know of a certainty that this house is visited.”

  “By whom—a spirit?”

  “Not a spirit seperated from the flesh,” and then I told her in as brief and concise a manner as possible of all that I had observed and witnessed.

  With a painful expression of curiosity she heard me to the end without saying a word. When I ceased to speak she remarked that admitting all I supposed it was a very delicate case, and something that neither of us had better meddle with. In fact that having eyes we had better not see, and having ears we should not hear. That she hoped and trusted Charlotte’s good sense would prevent her taking any rash or precipitate step likely to embarrass either, and that she should make it in her way to give the former a few words of caution and advice.

  “Now” I asked.

  [“]No: not immediately. It is only natural that she should wish to protect and assist her husband. She can do so, and not be cognisant as breaking the law of the land. The same action by us would be construed to infringe it. Therefore he must not come here. I must and do pity them both, but I cannot harbor him.”

  We had music and family prayers at bed-time. All the servants, those, I mean, belonging to the house, were present with the exception of Charlotte. She excused herself on a plea that I thought trivial at the time but as it was optional with the servants to attend these services or not, her absence elicited no remarks. Mr Henry’s family were distinguished for early hours and the bell was just chiming twelve, though a dead silence had reigned for some time in the house, when putting on my bonnet and drawing a small shawl over my shoulders as a protection from the dew, I passed hastily from the house, descended the garden alley, and paused beside the bower that had been specified in the letter as the meeting place.

  Perfect silence reigned, but passing round to the entrance I discerned through the thick gloom that the form of perceived that some one was within. My approach was not unnoticed. A low voice whispered “Hannah.”

  “The same.”

  The figure rose, and through the thick gloom I discerned the form and lineaments of a man. The next moment I was joined by Charlotte.

  “Be not afraid” she whispered “it is only William.”

  “And what is William doing here?” I inquired.

  “Oh, Hannah: you must hear him tell his story, and all that he has suffered; you will pity him then I know, you cannot help it.[”] and will be ready

  “Very likely, and yet my pity would not be available to any useful purpose.”

  We had entered the arbor and all three were seated.

  “You must not talk so” said Charlotte. “We require your assistance, and more, your company. Hannah wouldn’t you like to be free?”

  “Oh I should, I should, but then—”

  “What?”

  “The dangers, the difficulties, the obstructions in the way.[”]

  “Yet these will all vanish before resolution and perseverance” said William.

  “There you are mistaken” I replied. “I have tried elopement once. I know what it is. I know what hunger, and thirst and exposure of every kind means. I know what it is to fear the face of man, to seek hiding places in woods, and caverns, and God helping me I never wish to endure the like again.[”]

  “But we want you to go with us” said Charlotte.

  “With you; are you going, too.”

  “I am,” she replied courageously. “I am going with my dear husband, but Hannah I wanted a female friend to go with us, a good stout-hearted woman, who can look danger in the face unblenched [undaunted], whose counsel could guide us in emergencies, who would be true, and zealous, and faithful; my heart turned to you as the one.”

  “And you are the one” continued William. [“]Virtually you are free. Your old Master is dead. He met just the fate he deserved. As yet no other has claimed you, and no one has the right, even according to the laws of this accursed country, to prevent your going wherever you will. I told Charlotte to ask this interview, and now we urge, we insist that you should go with us. We have friends only a few miles hence. Once with them we shall be safe and can defy our enemies.”

  That I was greatly surprised, and altogether unprepared to answer such a proposal in the most proper manner no one can for a moment doubt, but I did not hesitate to tell them that their scheme looked wild and unpromising, and that I feared the result would be unfortunate.

  Charlotte sighed.

  “There; Hannah, now don’t dishearten my dear wife” he said, drawing her affectionately to his bosom. “Our minds are fixed; they cannot be changed, because we have no alternative. We must either be seperated or runaway, and which, think you, that an affectionate wife would choose? My master sold me to a southern trader, through sheer cruelty, I believe, and because he said that I was proud of my marriage. I happened to overhear the bargain. I cared nothing for the exchange of masters, because I had no fears of falling into the clutches of a worse one, but the idea of such premature seperation from Charlotte nearly drove me wild. That night I came here and told her all, and she proposed that we should fly together to a land of freedom. How my heart bounded at the blessed name.”

  During this long speech I had time to collect my thoughts, and I answered plainly that however just, or right, or expedient it might be in them to escape my accompanying their flight would be directly the reverse, that I could not lightly sacrifise the good opinion of Mrs Henry and her family, who had been so very kind to me, nor seem to participate in a scheme, of which the consummation must be an injury to them no less than a source of disquiet and anxiety. Duty, gratitude and honor forbid it.

  “And so to a strained sense of honor you willingly sacrifise a prospect of freedom” said William. “Well, you can hug the chain if you please. With me it is liberty or death.”

  “You refuse to go with us, then” said Charlotte.

  “I must.”

  “But you will not betray us. We have placed our secret in your hands.”

  [“]And it shall be well kept, but don’t tell me anything more. Let me remain in utter ignorance of all the circumstances you have connected with your flight, the way that you are going give me no clue to the time, the course, the means, or the way.”

  “Why not?” said William.

  “Because it will be better for all that I should know nothing.”

  Thus our brief interview ended.

  The next morning Charlotte was missin
g. She did not appear to assist Mrs Henry at her toilet. A child was sent to summon her, who returned with the information that she could not be found. Her room was in the neatest order, her bed nicely made, and the drawers of her bureau closely shut. Then there was a great opening and shutting of doors, a calling through the rooms, and around the house. Mr Henry was the first to suggest that possibly she had gone off with her husband, and inquired whether her clothes remained in their accustomed places. But her wardrobe when examined was found nearly empty; all the valuables having been removed.

  Mrs Henry wept. Charlotte had been to her as a daughter, and even now it was not her own so much as the wan and more, much more than her own loss she regretted the misery, want, and exposure, which the infatuated woman was bringing on herself.

  “And yet I cannot find it in my heart to blame her” remarked the amiable woman. “I ought to have foreseen all this, and yet I did not. The language of Scripture is just as true to[-]day as it was six thousand years ago. ‘Thy desire shall be thy husband.’ For him Charlotte could abandon her home, and long-tried friends. Heavengrant, that he prove worthy of the trust, and that they may reach in safety the land of freedom.”

  That day we were somewhat surprised by the appearance of William’s master, a Mr Cropp. He came attended by a party of Negroes, several blood-hounds, and the before-mentioned trader. He was evidently a hard stern man in whose soul pity never found refuge. The trader looked at me inquiringly. He had heard my story and asked if I was for sale. Mr Henry replied that he guessed not, at which the fellow expressed his sorrow. Mr Cropp expressed very plainly and firmly the object of his visit. The servants, he said, had reported that the house of Mr Henry was visited at night, as they supposed by a spirit, but being himself a matter-of-fact man and having little faith in supernatural visitants he thought it much more probable that his runaway slave sought in this manner to enjoy the society of Charlotte, and perhaps obtain assistance and provision from her. He further stated that William had actually been seen only the evening previous on Mr Henry’s premises, and; finally ended by inquiring for Charlotte. Mrs Henry’s countenance turned pale as death.