The Star of Freedom (XHTML)
[frontispiece -- unnumbered page]
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_______________________________
William S. Dorr, Printer,
123 Fulton Street.
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THE
STAR OF FREEDOM
New-York
N o. 113 NASSAU STREET
This is an annotated text of The Star of Freedom , published by W.S. Dorr Co. in New York City during the 1840s. Original spelling, punctuation and page citations have been retained; minor typographic errors have been corrected.
This electronic edition has been prepared for the Antislavery Literature Project, Arizona State University, a public education project working in cooperation with the EServer, Iowa State University. Digitization has been supported by a grant from the Institute for Humanities Research, Arizona State University.
Prooftext by Joe Lockard. Digitization by Noel Borde,
Mahesh Bhutkar, Nilesh Ralbhat, and Manoj Salvi of NetConnect India. All rights reserved by the Antislavery Literature Project. Permission for non-commercial educational use is granted.
[unnumbered page 4] CONTENTS.
The Traveling Tinman,------------------------------------ 8
Soul-drivers,------------------------------------------------ 17
The little Slave’s Complaint,----------------------------- 20
The little dead Slave,-------------------------------------- 23
The Emancipated Family,-------------------------------- 24
Hymn,------------------------------------------------------- 26
Prejudice,--------------------------------------------------- 27
Hymn,------------------------------------------------------- 32
Mary French and Susan Easton,------------------------ 33
The Shelter for Colored Orphans,---------------------- 47
The Sugar plums,----------------------------------------- 51
Arms of the United States,------------------------------ 52
Rose and Miss Belle,------------------------------------- 53
The little Colored Boy,----------------------------------- 55
The Negro Boy’s Petition,------------------------------- 59
Story of poor Jack,---------------------------------------- 61
The penitent Slave,--------------------------------------- 64
Letter from an Infant Slave,----------------------------- 65
Sugar, and Rice, and Cotton,---------------------------- 68
The Petition of a Sugar-making Slave,----------------- 71
Little White Lamb, and little Black Lamb,------------ 72
I dream of all things free,-------------------------------- 76
An affecting Story,--------------------------------------- 77
Praise for Christian Birth,------------------------------- 82
The Tree of Slavery,-------------------------------------- 83
The Fugitive Slave,--------------------------------------- 84
[unnumbered page 5]
THE STAR OF FREEDOM.
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THE TRAVELING TIN-MAN.*
Mr. Warner owned a small farm in the state of Pennsylvania, not far from
Maryland. He and his wife were Quakers. They had one son and two daughters, whose names were Israel, Amy, and Orphy.
One beautiful evening, at the close of the month of August, they heard the noise of a tin trumpet. Soon they saw the cart of a tin-pedler rattling down the hill at a brisk trot. The tin-man came blowing his horn to the steps of the porch. After buying some articles, the farmer invited him to sit down and
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[The following story is from a work of Miss Leslie. She told a friend that the kidnapped child was actually brought, in the manner described, to the house of a farmer in the western part of Pennsylvania, in whose neighborhood she boarded. The story is here shortened, and a little altered.]
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THE TRAVELING TIN-MAN.
take supper with the family. He accepted the invitation very quick.
While the pedler led his horse into the barn-yard to carry him a bucket of water from the pump; and to feed him by the light of the moon, the girls went to the back of the cart, when they were startled at seeing something alive, moving behind the round opening of the cover.
In a moment the head of a little black child peeped out of the hole. — The girls were so surprised that they could not utter a word. The young negro, afraid of being seen popped down its head among the tins.
“Amy, did thee see that!” —asked Orphy, in a low voice.
“Yes, I did so,” replied Amy, “what can the man be doing with that little negro, and why does he hide it? Let’s go and ask the child.”
“No, no!” exclaimed Orphy, “the tin-man will be angry.”
“And who cares if he is?” said Amy,
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THE TRAVELING TIN-MAN.
“he has done something he is ashamed of, and we need not be afraid of him.”
They then went quite close to the back of the cart, and Amy said, “Here, little one, show thyself and speak; and do-not be afraid, for nobody’s going to hurt thee.’’
“How did thee come into this cart?” asked Orphy, “and why does the tin-man hide thee? Tell us all about, it, and be sure not to speak loud.”
The black child again peeped put of the hole, and looking round, said, “ Are you quite sure the naughty man won’t hear us?”
“Quite sure,” answered Amy, “but is thee boy or girl?”
“I’m a little gal,” replied the child, “and my name’s Dinah, and I’m five year old, and my daddy and mammy are free colored people, and they lives a big piece off, and daddy works out, and mammy sells gingerbread and molasses-beer, and we have a sign over the door with a bottle and cake on it.”
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THE TRAVELING TIN-MAN.
Amy. But how did this man get hold of thee, if thy father and mother are free people? Thee can’t be bound to him, or he need not hide thee.
Dinah. O, I know I an’t bounded to him—I expect he stole me.
Amy. Stole thee! What here in the free state of Pennsylvany?
Dinah. I was out picking huckleberries in the woods up the road, and I strayed off a big piece from home. Then the tin-man comed along, driving his cart, and I run close to the road-side to look, as I always does when any body goes by. So he told me to come into his cart, and he would give me a tin mug to put my huckleberries in, and I might choose it myself, and it would hold them a heap better than my old Indian basket. So 1 was very glad, and he lifted me up into the cart, and I choosed the very best and biggest tin mug he had, and emptied my huckleberries into it.
And then he told me he’d give me a
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ride in his cart, and then he set me far back on a box, and he whipped his beast, and druv and druv, and jolted me so that I tumbled all down among the tins. And then he picked me up, and tied me fast with his handkercher to one of the back posts of the cart to keep me steady, he said. And then, for all I was steady, I couldn’t help crying, and I wanted him to take me home to daddy and mammy. But he only sniggered at me, and said he wouldn’t, and bid me hush; and then he got mad, and because I couldn’t hush up just in a minute, he whipped me quite smart.
Orphy. Poor little thing!
Dinah. And then I got frightened, for he put on a wicked look, and said he’d kill me dead if I cried any more or made the least bit of noise. And so he has been carrying me along in his cart for two days and two nights, and he makes me hide away all the time, and he won’t let nobody see me. And I
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hate him, and yesterday, when I know’d he didn’t see me, I spit on the crown of his hat.
Amy. Hush!—thee must never say thee hates any body.
Dinah. At night I sleeps upon the bag of feathers; and when he stops any where to eat, he comes to the back of the cart and pokes in victuals, (he has just now brung me some,) and he tells me he wants me to be fat and good-looking. And I’m almost all the time very sorry, only sometimes I’m not, and then I should like to play with the tins, only he won’t let me. I don’t dare to cry out loud, for fear the naughty man would whip me; but I always cry when we’re going through woods, and there’s nobody in sight to hear me. He never lets me look out of the back of the cart, only when there’s nobody to see me, and he won’t, let me sing even when I want to.
Amy. Now, Orphy, what’s to be done! The tin-man has, of course,
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THE TRAVELING TIN-MAN.
kidnapped this black child to take her into Maryland, where he can sell her for a good price; as she is a fat, healthy-looking thing, and that is a slave state. Does thee think we ought to let him take her off?
Orphy: No, indeed! Yonder’s Israel coming to turn the cows into the clover-field. Little girl, lay quiet, and don’t offer to show thyself.
Israel now advanced—”Well, girls,” said he, “what’s thee doing at the tin-man’s cart? Not meddling among his tins, I hope?”
“Israel,” said Amy, “step softly— we have something to show thee.”
The girls then lifted up the corner of the cart cover, and displayed the little negro girl, crouched upon the bag of feathers—a part of his goods which the tin-man had not shown.
The young man was much amazed, and his two sisters began both at once to relate to him the story of the black child. Israel looked angry. His sis-
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ters said to him, “To be sure we won’t let the man carry this child off with him.”
“I judge we won’t,” answered Israel. “Then,” said Amy, “let us take her out-of the cart, and hide her in the barn or somewhere, till he has gone” “No,” replied Israel, “I can’t say I feel free to do that. It would be too much like stealing her over again. Put her down in the cart, and let her alone. I’ll have no underhanded work about her. Let’s all go back to the house. But say nothing.”
The girls cautioned Dinah not to let the tin-man know that they had seen her, and to keep herself quiet; and they then went with their brother to the house, feeling very uneasy. “Israel,” said his mother, as he entered, “this friend is making the china as good as new, only, that we can’t help seeing the join; and we are going to give all the mended things to thee”
The tin-man having finished his work
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THE TRAVELING TIN-MAN.
and been paid for it, said it was high time for him to be about starting, and he must go and look after his cart. He left the house for that purpose; and Israel looking out at the end window, said, “I see he’s not coming round to the house again, but he’s going to try the short cut into the back road. I’ll go and see that he puts up the bars after him.”
Israel went out, and his sisters followed him to see the tin-man off.
The man came to the bars, leading his horse with the cart, and found Israel there before him. “Are you going to let down the bars for me?” said the tin-man.
“No,” replied Israel, “I’m not going to be so polite; but I intend to see that thee carries off nothing more than belongs to thee.”
“What do you mean?” exclaimed the tin-man changing color.
“I expect I can show thee,” said Israel. Then stepping up to the back of
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THE TRAVELING TIN-MAN.
the cart and putting in his hands, he pulled out the black child and held her up before him, saying, “Now, if thee offers to touch this girl, 1 think we shall be apt to differ.”
The tin-man then advanced towards Israel, and with an angry look raised his whip; but the fearless young Quaker (having handed the little girl to his sisters, who held her between them) broke a stick from a tree that grew near, and stood with a look of calm resolution.
The man went close up to him with his whip; but before he had time to strike, Israel seized him by the collar, and swinging him round to some distance, flung him to the ground with such force as to stun him, saying, “Mind, I don’t call myself a fighting character: but if thee offers to get up, 1 shall feel free to keep thee down.”
The tin-man began to move, and the girls ran to the house for their father,
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THE TRAVELING TIN-MAN.
leading the little black girl, whose screams were loud enough.
In an instant the stout old farmer was at the side of his son, and notwithstanding the struggles of the tin-man, they drew him by main force to the stable, into which they fastened him for the night.
Early next morning, Israel and his father went for a warrant and a constable, and were followed home by half the township. The county court was then in session; the tin-man was tried, and convicted of having kidnapped a free black child, with the design of selling her as a slave in one of the southern states; and he was punished by fine and imprisonment.
To conclude—an advertisement having been inserted in several of the papers, to tell where Dinah, the little black girl was to be found, and the tin-man’s trial having also been noticed in the public prints, in about a fortnight her father and mother (two very decent free
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THE TRAVELING TIN-MAN.
people of color) arrived to claim her: having walked all the way from their cottage in the next county. The meeting was most joyful to them and to her. They told at full length every particular of their anxious search after their child which was ended by a gentleman bringing a newspaper to their house, containing the welcome news that she was safe at Micajah Warner’s.
Amy and Orphy were desirous of keeping little Dinah in the family; and; as the child’s parents seemed very willing, the girls urged their mother to keep her instead of Cloe. But Israel declared that he chose to have little Dinah himself, if her parents would bind her to him till she was eighteen.
Israel was soon married, and lived in the house near the saw-mill. He prospered; and in a few years was able to buy a farm of his own, and to build a stone house on it. Dinah turned out very well, and the Warner family still talk of the night when she was found in the cart of the travelling tin-man.
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SOUL-DRIVERS.
SOUL-DRIVERS.
The following extract of a letter to a little girl six years old, will explain what is meant by the word soul-drivers:
Dear Cousin Harriet:
You have heard me speak of soul-drivers. Perhaps you do not know, exactly what is meant by such a name. I will tell you.
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SOUL-DRIVERS.
There are men who go about, in Slave States, “buying up stock,” as they call it. That is, they buy men, women, and children, to stock their, farms and plantations, or to sell to planters and farmers. Sometimes they come and buy a little colored child not so old as you are, and snatch him from his mother’s arms. And when the poor child screams, they whip him, and tell him to be still.
Then when he holds his breath, and struggles to get away, reaching out his little hands to his mother, they shake him, and whip him again. This makes the mother shriek, wring her hands, and lift them to heaven, and then they whip her, curse her, and tell her to be still. They then drag the child from her sight for ever, while the poor creature sobs as if its little heart would break. These men are called “Soul-Drivers.”
As I was one day sitting at my window in Nashville, Tenn., I saw one of
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SOUL-DRIVERS.
these soul-drivers pass by. He was riding on horseback, and had one little colored boy before him, and another behind him.” They looked very sorrowful.
Then, in an old wagon having some hoop-poles bent over the top, were several little children, some of them only two, and three, and four years old. There were a number more, who were a little older, that had to go behind the wagon, and help push it along. They all looked as if they had come a great way.
You do not wonder, Harriet, that such a sight made me weep. Ah! and when I remember how you used to feel when little innocent lambs and calves were taken away from their mothers, I know you will feel for the poor slave children. It is right for you to feel for them, and to go and pray for them. Yes, and when I think that Jesus took little children in his arms and blessed them— even children as dark as many of the
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THE LITTLE SLAVE’S.
slaves—I know you will wish to give something to get the poor slave children out of slavery, so that they can be taught to read about Jesus.
I have not time to write more now; so good-bye.
Your affectionate cousin,
Amos.
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THE LITTLE SLAVE’S COMPLAINT.
Who loves the little slave? Who cares
If well or ill I be?
Is there a living soul that shares
A thought or wish for me?
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COMPLAINT .
I’ve had no parents since my birth,
Brothers and sisters—none;
O, what is all this world to me,
Where I am only one!
I wake, and see the sun arise,
And all around me gay;
But nothing I behold is mine,
No—not the life of day!
No! not the very breath I draw—
These limbs are not my own;
A master calls me his by law,
My griefs are mine alone.
Ah, these they could not make him feel—
Would they themselves had felt
Who bound me to that man of steel,
Whom mercy cannot melt.
Yet not for wealth or case I sigh,
All are not rich and great:
Many may be as poor as I—
But none so desolate.
For all I know have kin and kind,
Some home, some hope, some joy;
But these I must not look to find—
Who knows the colored boy?
The world has not a place of rest
For outcasts so forlorn—
‘ Twas all bespoken, all possest—
Long before I was born!
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THE LITTLE SLAVE’S
Affection, too, life’s sweetest cup,
Goes round from hand to hand;
But I am never asked to sup—
Out of the ring I stand!
If kindness beats within my heart,
What heart will beat again?
I coax the dogs,—they snarl and start,—
Brutes are as bad as men.
The beggar’s child may rise above
The misery of his lot,
The gipsy may be loved and love
But I—but I—must not.
Hard fare, cold lodgings, cruel toil,
Youth, health, and strength consume;
What tree could thrive in such soil?
What flower so scathed could bloom?
Should I outgrow this cripling work,
How shall my bread be sought?
Must I to other lads turn Turk,
And teach what I am taught?
O! might I roam with flocks and herds
In fellowship along!
O! were I one among the birds—
All wing, all life, all song!
Free with the fishes may I dwell,
Down in the quiet sea;
The snail in his cobcastled shell—
The snail’s a king to me.
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COMPLAINT.
For out he goes in April showers,
Lies snug when storms prevail,
He feeds on fruits, he sleeps on flowers—
I wish I was a snail.
No; never! do the worst they can,
I may be happy still;
For I was born to be a man—
And with God’s leave, I will.
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THE LITTLE DEAD SLAVE.
A little slave had died. He was dressed for the grave, when his mother came to look for the last time upon her son. She was a slave upon the same plantation.
She gazed at the corpse. Some one heard her voice in prayer to God. She thanked Him that her little boy was dead, for now he would never feel how dreadful it was to be a slave. “There are,” said she, “no slaves in heaven.”
“—I thank Thee that my child is dead,
That in the grave he’ll lay his aching head;
The fettered slave hath found a sweet release.
And now, with freedom blest, with God at peace,
No tyrant’s frown, no proud oppressor’s rod,
I found within the dwelling place of God.”
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THE EMANCIPATED FAMILY.
THE EMANCIPATED FAMILY.
The picture shows how a family of slaves will look when emancipated. Ah, there will be no cruel whippings then, no chains to put around the legs or the wrists, no gags to put in the mouth. Freedom has nothing to do with such things.
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THE EMANCIPATED FAMILY.
But when the slaves are free, “they shall sit every man under his vine, and under his fig-tree; and none shall make them afraid,” as the Bible beautifully says. The Bible Society will give Bibles and Testaments to the emancipated families. The father will put his Bible on his knees, and will read it to his wife and little ones. He will teach them to read this precious book. And they can all kneel down at the family altar, and pray to God.
The mother will not be obliged to work in the field then, with a brutal driver behind her with his whip. She will not have to leave her little children all day, with no dear mother to see to them. No—no. She will stay in the house, and take care of her little family. Her heart will then be glad. Her children will be happy. They will play like little kittens. Then they will be glad to read the Slave’s Friend, and other pretty books.
What happy, happy times there will
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HYMN.
be then ! Oh, I long to see that day! I should like to peep in and see the “emancipated family!”
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HYMN
Of colored Orphans, under the care of a Female Charitable Society, and was sung at the celebration of a society of Ladies, who have a few colored children under their care
Scorn not the darken’d brow,
Ye of that happier race,
Who wear the rose-tint on your cheek
With beauty’s fairest grace.
Nor let our humble claim,
Who bear the orphan’s lot,
Be disregarded in your prayers,
Or in your alms forgot.
For when before their Judge
The gather’d nation stand,
And Afric, long on earth oppressed,
Shall raise the unfettered hand;
And with a wandering eye
Heaven’s perfect justice share,
The mercy that to us you show,
Shall be remembered there.
L.H. S.
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PREJUDICE.
PREJUDICE.
When Mary was six years old, she went to live with her aunt, who was a good woman. One day little Mary was sitting at the window with her aunt. She saw a poor aged colored woman go by.
“Oh, aunt,” said she, “I do not love that old woman at all!” “Why not, Mary?” said her aunt. “Because she is black; I do not like any body that is black.”
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PREJUDICE.
Her aunt said, “Mary, Mary I am sorry to hear you talk so. It is foolish; it is wicked, my child.”
Mary looked very serious. Then she said, “‘Why is it wicked, aunt?” “It is wicked, my dear, because God has told us to love every body in the world. God made that poor woman as well as you. I will call her in to see you.”
Mary was frightened. She said, “O no, aunt, if you please, do not call her in.” “Yes, my dear, I wish to teach you a lesson.” Then she raised the
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PREJUDICE .
window, and asked the aged colored woman if she would please to come in.
Mary’s aunt said, “Good woman, what do you think of this little girl?” “She looks like a dear little child, madam; may I give her an apple?” Then she took an apple out of her basket, and gave it to Mary.
The little girl felt very much ashamed, and hung down her head. The old woman then said, “Once I had three little girls, but two are dead, and the other, if not dead, is in slavery. The Lord knoweth what is best. He will break the rod of the oppressor.” And the tears came into her eyes. Mary wept too.
Then Mrs. Lovegood gave the woman some work to do, for she knew her very well; and Lilly left the house to go to her home.
After she had gone, Mary said, “Aunt, I am sorry for being so foolish and naughty. I will not hate colored people any more.”
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PREJUDICE.
Her aunt said, “My dear Mary, you should not hate any of God’s creatures. Get your little Testament, and I will show you what the apostle John says about this.” Mary got her Testament, and her aunt opened at the third chapter of 1st John, 15th verse, and Mary read, “He that hateth his brother is a murderer.”
“All men and women are made of one blood. All are brethren. This poor colored woman was once a slave. The cruel men, put chains on her, and whipped her cruelly. Now she is free, but she is old, and very poor. But she is a good woman, and I am sure that Christ loves her. You ought to love her too, Mary, and do her all the good you can.”
Mary said nothing, but after all she felt some dislike to poor Lilly. Not long after, Mary was very sick. She was in bed several weeks. I believe she had the scarlet fever. A great many children have had it this winter,
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PREJUDICE.
and several have died. In New-York city, 37 died of it in one week.
One morning, Lilly knocked at the door, and said, “Mrs. Lovegood, where is little Mary? I have not seen her go by to school lately.” Then Mrs. Lovegood told her that Mary was sick, and asked Lilly to go into the chamber with her, where Mary was.
Lilly was very sorry; and she came and nursed Mary for seven days and nights. When God had blessed the means used for her recovery, and she
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HYMN.
was restored to health again, she said, “Dear aunt, I will never hate anybody again for having a skin darker than mine is. Good Lilly! She is a great deal better than I am. She took nice care of me, and prayed with me. I do love her very much.”
________
HYMN .
For a Juvenile Anti-Slavery Society.
With grief we hear a startling sound
Appeal from earthly wrong:
Our brother’s blood cries from the ground,
“How long, O Lord! how long!”
With light from heaven, oh, God of Truth,
Shine on our infant minds.
Help us that captive’s grief to soothe—
To loose the chain that binds.
We claim the blessing, by thy Son
To little children given—
“Forbid them not” the path to run
Which leads to truth and heaven. M. W. C
PRAYER.
We pray for slaves! to whom thy word
Of light, and love is never given;
For those whose ears have never heard
The promise and the hope of heaven.
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MARY FRENCH AND SUSAN EASTON
Perhaps some of my little readers may remember seeing, about a year and a half ago, advertisements in the newspapers concerning a white child, who had been stolen, and afterwards discovered to have been stained black, and sold for a SLA VE.
Mary French lived on the western shore of the Mississippi river. She was the only child of her parents. Paul Easton, a colored man, with his wife and his little daughter Susan, lived very near them.
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MARY FRENCH
He was an honest, industrious man, and his wife was a neat, good-humored woman. Susan was a bright, affectionate child; very merry and full of play, as colored children generally are.
The little girls had joyful times together. They loved dearly to run in the woods, to gather berries and flowers.
They had lifted a big flat stone, and placed it under a spreading oak; this served them for a table, on which they used to place acorns for cups and saucers.
A small white rabbit with two black spots on his fur, was their favorite companion. They often seated him on the flat rock, while they gathered clover for him to eat. But Bunny was a timid little creature. One day he scampered off into the woods, because he was frightened by a little shaggy dog, barking at a wild turkey.
Susan first overtook the poor rabbit; and she covered him up with her apron, and tried to comfort him; for his little heart beat violently.
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AND SUSAN EASTON.
While they were talking to the rabbit, they heard a voice call out, “Little girls, don’t you want to buy something pretty?” They turned round, and saw a pedler, with a case full of thimbles, beads, candy, &c. They told him they could not buy anything, because they had no money. The man asked where they lived; and when they told him, he said, “I have been there; and the women have bought some things.”
Mary wanted to run home, to see if her mother had bought anything for her; but the pedler gave them some candy, and persuaded them to go to his cart, under the pretence of seeing a funny little monkey. When the poor children were out of sight of their homes, he stuffed handkerchiefs into their mouths, and tied them in his cart.
In this way they traveled until night. Then the man uncovered their mouths, and gave them some bread and a piece of cold sausage: They cried very much, and said, “I want to go home to my
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MARY FRENCH.
mother.” But the man told them he would whip them, if they made the least noise. He would not untie them; and, the poor little girls were obliged to get such sleep as they could, sitting upright in the cart, as it jostled over the rough road.
They were awakened by the man, who lifted them out, and carried them into a thicket, where he had kindled a fire. He spread some bags and blankets on the ground, and told them he was going to sleep there, and they might sleep too. They asked when he would carry them home; and he said they should certainly go in the morning.
Delighted with this promise, they put their arms about each other’s necks, and soon fell into a sweet sleep. The wicked pedler tied their feet together, lest they should run away while he slept. But the innocent little creatures were too tired to wake early.
The first thing Mary knew, the man seized her rudely, and ordered her to
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AND SUSAN EASTON.
jump up. He led her to the fire, where he had a kettle full of black stuff, curling tongs, and a pair of shears. He tied her arms behind her, and began to cut off her hair.
Little Susan was grieved at this; and cried out, “You shan’t cut off Mary’s hair! You are a kidnapper, I know; and I will tell her mother all about you.” Then the pedler was in a great rage, and beat her dreadfully with his horsewhip. The poor child screamed and screamed; but there was nobody in those lonely forests to help her. The man told her he would whip her to death, if she did not stop screaming. Then she tried to be still, and only gave a sob now and then, when the pain of the lashes was too great for her to bear.
When the cruel pedler had beaten her as much as he pleased, he returned to Mary, who stood sobbing and crying on the spot where he had left her. He told her to dry up her tears very quick, unless she wanted such a whipping as
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MARY FRENCH.
he had given the other little saucebox. He cut her hair close, and curled it with the curling tongs. Then he rubbed her with soot and grease, simmered together, till she was blacker than Susan. He made her stand by the fire, till it was thoroughly dried in; and then he rubbed it on a second time. “There!” said he, with a brutal laugh, “Now you are almost as good-looking a nigger as ‘tother one.”
The unhappy children did not dare to cry, for fear of being whipped. They were again tied in the cart, and rode nearly half a day without meeting any person.
About noon, a man passed them with a large boat on wheels. Mary tried to call loud enough for him to hear; for on this lonely road the pedlar had not taken the precaution to cover their mouths. The traveler stopped to ask what was the matter. “Oh,” said the pedler, “it is only a couple of young slaves, that are noisy.” “Give them a
[page 39]AND SUSAN EASTON.
touch of the whip; that will make ‘em quiet,” replied the other. Having made, this unfeeling speech, he drove on, without taking any further notice.
Before evening, the pedler came in sight of a plantation, where a good many negroes were at work, while the driver stood over them, cracking his whip and smoking his cigar. The children heard him ask this man whether the planter would buy a likely young slave. The driver said, he thought it was very probable he would.
Then the pedler untied Mary, and told her to do as she was bid, or he would make her sorry for it. The poor child trembled, and did not dare to make any answer. She only ventured to say, “Ain’t Susan going with me?”
He lifted her out of the cart, without making any reply. “Oh, Susan,” said she, “if you ever get home again, tell mother all about it; and take good care of my spotted rabbit.” Poor Susan sobbed, as if her heart would break.
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MARY FRENCH
The pedler held his whip over Mary’s head, and ordered her to dry up her tears instantly. Thus were these innocent little playmates separated, never to meet again.
The planter gave the pedler fifty dollars for Mary, and ordered old Dinah to take her to the negro huts. Mary told Dinah that she was a white child, whom a wicked kidnapper had stolen from her home. She looked so black, that the kind-hearted old slave did not, at first, believe her.
“Hush, hush, poor child,” said she: “If the overseer hears you talking so, he will have you tied up and whipped. You needn’t feel so bad; Dinah will be the same as mother. Dinah’s got no children now. Massa sell ‘em all.”
“But I am a white child, and I was stolen,” said Mary, bursting into tears.
Dinah tried to comfort her, and sung songs to her, until the little sufferer dropped asleep, to dream of her father and mother, and little Susan, and the
[page 41]
AND SUSAN EASTON.
great oak tree, and the little spotted rabbit.
When Mary was asleep, Dinah observed that there was a streak lighter than the rest of her face, where the tears had run down her cheeks; but she was afraid to go and tell her master, because the slaves were not allowed to go out in the evening.