The Bondwoman's Narrative

by Hannah Crafts

  Another room was adorned with shells, another with pictures of birds, all various yet so beautiful and true to nature that I never wearied in looking at them. Here were birds of Paradise just dropping into the balmy recesses of some cinnamon grove; and there were flocks of splendid macaws hovering over the magnificent palms of the tropics. The great white owl of the North was not forgotten; indeed all the countries of the earth were represented in the portraits of the with the surrounding deserts of snow was not forgotten; indeed all the countries of the earth were represented in the portraits of their birds.

  In other rooms there was a mingling of unique and singular objects in tasteful confusion. Pictures of men, angels and domestic animals side by side with landscapes wrought in needle-work, or sketches in crayons of rocks, crags, and rivers.

  In these rooms the tables and chairs were of great variety and pattern. No two were alike. There were great chairs stuffed and covered with courtly brocade and little chairs in chintz, some had high backs and some had low, some were turned, others carved, while some were provided with rockers, others with castors [casters], and others again had neither.

  The same quaint variety prevailed everywhere and in every thing. It the carpets, hangings, glasses was displayed in the carpets, the hangings, and the glasses, and even in the scent-bottles and pincushions on the toilet tables. They agreed in nothing, but perfect neatness and good taste.

  In the lodges of the servants, and every thing pertaining to the establishment the same variety was observable. There was a garden for flowers, another for vegetables, and a third for fruit. There was a spring in one place, a well in another, and a fountain in a third. I could never sufficiently admire the order and harmony of the arrangements, which blent [blended] so many parts into a perfect whole.

  Method and regularity likewise prevailed over the estate. The overseer was gentle and kind, and the slaves were industrious and obedient, not through fear of punishment, but because they felt it to be their duty loved and respected a master and mistress so amiable and good. Of these, especially the master, I have hitherto said little, and even now it is not my intention to draw their portraits. I could not do so if I wished. I might, indeed, describe their size and figure, might enlarge on the color of their their eyes and hair, but after all what language could portray the ineffable expression of a countenance beaming with soul and intelligence? how should I convey in words an adequate idea of a manner refined by education, polished by mingling in good society, and perfected by that true Christian politeness which springs from kindness of heart?

  Mr Henry was a clergyman, and his naturally mild and genial disposition had been softened and tempered by the benignacy of religion. Early in life he found a partner like himself wise, pious, and gentle, and the fruit of their union was two docile children, a girl and a boy, named respectively Charley and Anna.

  It would be a difficult matter to tell what station I filled in this lovely family. I was not considered a servant, neither was I treated exactly as a guest, though with quite as much kindness and consideration. There was a pleasant familiarity in their manner towards me that a visitor could scarcely have expected, mingled with a sort of reserve that continually reminded me I was not one of them. How much I desired to be so it would be impossible to tell.

  Mrs Henry one day desired to speak with me in the parlor. I felt a strange misgiving that some unpleasant communication awaited me, and I was still more convinced of this when I saw the compassionate expression of her countenance. Tears spring to my eyes unbidden.

  “Hannah, my dear, be seated, and don’t weep” said Mrs Henry. “I have important news for you. The gentleman to whom we communicated the fact of your late master’s death, and who it appears was his next of kin, and consequently his heir, states in this letter” and she drew one from her pocket “that he shall be here next week to establish his claim to you. He supposes that there will be no difficulty in that, or in your removal hence.”

  Much as I had feared and anticipated all this, the dread reality shocked me like a thunderbolt. I stood silent for a moment, and then threw myself at her feet.

  “Mrs Henry” I said “you can save me from this. I have an inexpressible desire to stay with you. You are so good, accomplished, and Christian-like, could I only have the happiness to be your slave, your servant, or—”

  “Hannah, dear” she said interrupting me “you must not talk in that way, neither should you kneel to mortal woman; now rise and let us discuss this matter calmly.

  She held out her hand so white and soft and beautiful.

  “No; Mrs Henry” I continued “here let me kneel at your feet till you promise to pity and save me. My sphere is so humble, and I am so forlorn and destitute, and you are by nature and position so far above me that you may not think how I feel in view of this dreadful doom, but Oh: my dear good madam be mindful of what I have suffered, and of what I still must suffer, thus transferred from one to another, and save me; for you can.[”]

  “No; Hannah, I cannot” she said stifling the emotion that was choking her.

  “Do not decide so soon” I replied. “Let me hope a moment. I do not ask you to buy me and then set me free. I do not require any extra favors or advantages. Let me perform the menial service of your household—Let me go to the fields and labor there—let me be a drudge, a scallion I care not—nay I would accept the situation with the greatest thankfulness—all I ask is to feel, and know of a certainty that I have a home, that some one cares for me, and that I am beyond the gripe [grip] of these merciless slave-traders and speculators.[”]

  “Hannah: Hannah, tempt me not.”

  “And why not, my dear Madam. Why not tempt you to accept the service of one who would be so faithful devoted, and zealous to serve you every day—who would do her utmost in all possible things. You would never repent it, you could not repent it, because we should both be happier.”

  There was so much sympathy and such an affectionate tenderness in her looks that I was encouraged to press myself upon her. I felt that everything which could render life valuable to me was at stake, no wonder then that I spoke with ardor, or forgot the rules of good breeding in my earnestness to gain my point.

  “You do not imagine” I continued. “You have no idea how good I will be, or how exactly I will conform myself to all your wishes.”

  She lifted me from the floor, she embraced me, and compassionated over me. She wept, and our tears were mingled together.

  “I must tell you my history, Hannah” she said “and then you will see how utterly impossible it is for me to do as you desire, unless, indeed, I perjure my own soul. This house, this estate and these servants were all the property of my father. He was a worldly-minded man, and a man of the world, but during the long lingering and painful illness of which he died his views of property were materially changed. I was an only child, and consequently an heiress. I had married Mr Henry contrary to his will, but face to face with death and eternity his anger relaxed, and he summoned me to his dying bed, to receive his forgiveness, and last solemn counsel and benediction. He could only converse at intervals of great agony. Oh: it was a mournful death-bed, a mournful death-bed.[”]

  She paused overcome by strong emotion.

  “I would not describe the scene if I could, and I could not if I would” she continued recovering herself by a strong effort of self-control “but his last moments were embittered by remorse. He had been a trafficker in human flesh and blood, in the lives and souls of men, and conscience arrayed them all against him. Like the accusing spirit of Cesar summoning Brutus to Philippi they charged him to meet and answer them at the bar of God.

  “In those awful moments he exacted from me a solemn promise never on any occasion to sell or buy a servant, as then with the realities of a judgement and eternity before him it appeared the greatest crime, he said, of which a human being could be capable. He conjured me if I desired a death-bed of peace, and an immortality of blessedness to avoid the hedious traffic in every form.”r />
  “And you promised?”

  “I promised, Hannah, promised by [a] dear dying parent in the presence of the ministers of religion, and with the awful solemnities of the hour and scene pressing upon my soul. That oath I never can violate. My right hand may forget her cunning, or my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, but such an engagement, made too at such time is of too sacred and solemn an import ever to be broken.”

  “Even so.”

  “My father to show his sincerity, and right as far as possible the wrong he had practiced as much as possible, set apart a certain portion of his estate to lie with the interest accumulating during my natural life, and then to be equally apportioned among the servants, who are all to be emancipated. And now dear Hannah, do you wish me to break that vow?” she asked.

  I could not say that I did, and yet my heart rose against the man, who in a slave-holding country could exact such a promise. Since in a multitude of cases the greatest favor that a mild kindhearted man or woman can bestow on the out cast servile race members of the outcast servile race is to buy them. I almost felt that he had done me as a personal injury, an irreparable wrong.

  Perhaps she divined my thoughts. With a countenance sympathising, yet half-reproachful she inquired if there was no other way in which she could assist me, and thereby prove how much interest she felt in my forlorn condition.

  I answered that I did not know.

  “I have a friend and distant relative in North Carolina” she continued. “Their names are Wheeler, and they are considered very kind and humane to their slaves. They are coming here this summer, and Mrs Wheeler informs me that she wishes to purchase a maid-servant, providing she can find one whose capabilities and acquirements meet her approbation. If your prospective master is a lenient man, and has no other views in regard to you I should think that you might probably be transferred to her.[”]

  She looked towards me, and I saw that she waited for an answer. Just at that moment I felt that it mattered little where I went, or what became of me. I was disheartened and disappointed, without hope in this world, and half-forgetful of my trust in the next. I replied not with the patient, meek, and thankful spirit that I ought, but as my feelings for the time being dictated, that I was hopeless, helpless and friendless, and that I had no further choice.

  “Hannah” the word was uttered in such a sorrowful tone of reproach that I looked involuntarily towards the speaker. If her voice had expressed much, more a great deal more of forbearing sympathy was shown in her countenance. I perceived in a moment the injustice and unkindness of my remarks. I remembered her patient care of me, a stranger and a slave. Again I knelt at her feet, and poured out in long bitter language my feeling dictated all the fondness of my gratitude language, rendered impassioned and burning by my strong feelings, all the ful[l]ness of my gratitude to her, my sensibility to the kindnesses of her family, and my perfect conviction that I had no reason to expect any more.

  “But you may expect more, Hannah” she replied. “You may expect any favor or kindness of me, with that one exception. And after all that is not much. You may be happier with some one else than you could have been with me. You know not the good things Providence may have in store for you. You must not forget him, and His abounding grace.”

  And thus she soothed, and comforted, and consoled me, and through her blessed influence I came to experience a better state of mind.

  In the passage leading to my room I met little Anna. As usual I was a great favorite with the children, and stretching out her white beautiful arms towards me she clamed a kiss. My cheeks were wet with tears, which the affectionate child was not slow in perceiving.

  “I don’t see what makes everybody so unhappy” she said in her artless manner.

  “Why, are they?” I replied.

  “I guess so, you weep, and so does Lotty, and I can’t tell how many more.”

  “Lotty weeps” I repeated.

  She was the new-made bride, and should have been happy.

  “To be sure she does” answered the simple child. “And then don’t you think she refuses to tell me what ails her, and when I ask her, and coax her, and kiss her she only cries the more.”

  “Have you told your mamma?” I inquired.

  “No: Lotty said that I must not, that it would only make Mamma unhappy to hear it, and I don’t want to make her unhappy, you know.”

  It struck me that probably Charlotte had some other reason for wishing to conceal her tears from her mistress, though why she should be so unhappy I could not divine. She was young, well-educated, and possessed of many advantages. Her mistress was kind and indulgent, she was not required to do any menial service, but only to attend on the children. What multitudes of people, white and black, might have envied the situation in which she was miserable.

  Alas; those that view slavery only as it relates to physical sufferings or the wants of nature, can have no conception of its greatest evils.

  CHAPTER 11

  An Elopement

  Deliver me, Oh Lord.

  DAVID

  And hurry, hurry, off they rode

  As fast as fast can be;

  BURGHER

  I have always thought that in a state of servitude marriage must be at best of doubtful advantage. It necessarily complicates and involves the relation of master and slave, adds new ties to those already formed, and is at the bottom of many troubles and afflictions that might otherwise be escaped. The slave, if he or she desires to be content, should never think of always remain in celibacy. If it was my purpose I could bring many reasons to substantiate this view, but plain, practical common sense must teach every observer of mankind that any situation involving such responsibilities as marriage can only be filled with profit, and honor, and advantage by the free.

  The information conveyed by little Anna, light and trivial as it might have appeared to another, had real weight and importance with me. Not that it is anything remarkable for the best-conditioned women to weep occasionally, but such frequent bursts of sorrow attended with attempted concealment, at a time too, considered to be the happiest in a woman’s life, had an air of mystery sufficient to excite the conjectures of even a more curious person than myself.

  I now recollected that I had observed something singular in the manner of Charlotte, especially for the few last days. On several occasions I had caught her eyes lifted to my face with an intense expression of inquiry, and many times I had fancied that she wished yet feared to ask me for a private interview. Then, too, I was aware that she generally spent the night in some mysterious employment. I had seen lights gleaming from the through the windows of her apartment at unusual hours, I had remarked shadows passing and repassing by the moonlight in concealed places. Simultaneously with this the servants became alarmed, and strange reports of an unearthly visitant were put in circulation. Some averred that they had seen him breathing fire and smoke as he crept stealthily along the halls and through the passages. Others declared that there were two, instead of one, and others again were of the opinion that the spirit had the power of appearing single or double either.

  At first Mr and Mrs Henry were disposed to treat the whole matter with silent contempt, but it soon became an affair of serious difficulty. Not a servant could be persuaded to leave the house after dark on any emergency. Lights must be kept burning all night in their various apartments lest “de ghost” should steal on them unaware, and an infant that had been sick a long time actually died very sudden one night, and its mother preferred to lie with the cold stiff corpse there untill morning, to getting up and alarming the house.

  For my own part, however, I seldom never gave way to imaginary terror. I found enough in the stern realities of life to disquiet and perplex, without going beyond the boundaries of time to meet new sources of apprehension, and so I rested calmly in the assurance that whether spirit or man, angel or devil, or neither, it was nothing that could change my destiny, or affect in the least degree my happiness or misery. I was accustomed to se
t [sit] up late; of that probably every person in the house was aware. Harassing anxiety is not a friend to sleep. Then I preferred the still quiet of night for meditation. Two weeks had elapsed since my prospective master was expected, and he came not. This rather contributed to increase than alleviate my uneasiness, as the worst reality is always preferable to suspense.

  The bell had just chimed the midnight hour when I was startled one night by a slight noise in an adjoining apartment. Very slight, indeed, and had there been nothing unusual in the sound, scarcely sufficient to have attracted attention. Night is certainly the time for mysterious noises. Window shutters will rattle, when apparently there is no wind. Sounds like heavy objects falling to the floor will break your slumbers, and then the rats and mice in their antics and gambols will create a thousand startling echoes, but this was not like either. It resembled, in fact a suppressed human cough. I listened. There was certainly the sound of muffled footsteps, and then the suppressed creaking of a door stealthily opened. My heart beat audi[b]ly. Should I rise, open my own door, and attempt to penetrate the mystery. There might be a robber in the house, or some one bent on an evil purpose. But instantaneously, and before I had time to decide old Jo, a negro, who loved above all things to indulge in strong potations of brandy, burst into my apartment in the most ludicrous state of terror conceivable. His eyes, large and glaring, seemed actually starting from their sockets, his teeth chattered and his whole frame trembled as with the ague. Before I could rebuke his very unceremonious ingress, he cried out

  “Oh: Missus, de ghost, de ghost, sabe me from de ghost.”

  “The ghost” I replied “where is it?”

  The old fellow, however was to[o] badly frightened to give anything like a coherent statement, but putting this and that together as the adage runs I was enabled to make out that Jo as usual was drunk and asleep in one of the entries leading to Charlotte’s room. That he was suddenly awakened by the gleam of light, and a sensation of pain, for the ghost, to employ his own expression tread on his toes, and was plaguey heavy.