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TWENTY-EIGHTH THOUSAND
TWELVE YEARS A SLAVE

NARRATIVE
OF
SOLOMON NORTHRUP,
A CITIZEN OF NEW YORK,
KIDNAPPED IN WASHINGTON CITY IN 1841,
AND RESCUED IN 1853,
FROM A COTTON PLANTATION NEAR THE RED-RIVER
IN LOUISIANA

NEW YORK:
MILLER, ORTON & MULLIGAN,
25 PARK ROW, OPPOSITE ASTOR HOUSE,
AUBURN:
107 GENESEE STREET
1855

CHAPTER VII. - Page 89

- The Steamboat Rodolph - Departure from New Orleans - William Ford
- Arrival at Alexandria, on Red River - Resolutions - The Great Pine Woods - Wild Cattle -
Martin's Summer Residence - The Texas Road - Arrival at Master Ford's - Rose - Mistress Ford
- Sally and her Children - John, the Cook - Walter, Sam, and Antony
- The Mills on Indian Creek - Sabbath Days - Sam's Conversion  - The Profit of Kindness
- Rafting - Adam Taydem, the Little White Man - Cascalla and his Tribe
- The Indian Ball - John M. Tebeats - The Storm approaching

     ON leaving the New-Orleans slave pen, Harry and I followed our new master through the streets, while Eliza, crying and turning back, was forced along by Freeman and his minions, until we found ourselves on board the steamboat Rodolph, then lying at the levee.  In the course of half an hour we were moving briskly up the Mississippi, bound for some point on Red River.  There were quite a number of slaves on board beside ourselves, just purchased in the New-Orleans market.  I remember a Mr. Kelsow, who was said to be a well known and extensive planter, had in charge a gang of women.
     Our Master's name was William Ford.  He resided then in the "Great Pine Woods," in the parish of Avoyelles, situated on the right  bank of Red River,

[pg. 90]

in the heart of Louisiana.  He is now a Baptist preacher.  Throughout the whole parish of Avoyelles, and especially along both shores of Bayou Boeuf, where he is more intimately known, he is accounted by his fellow-citizens as a worthy minister of God.  In many northern minds, perhaps, the idea of a man holding his brother man in servitude, and the traffic in human flesh, may seem altogether incompatible with their conceptions of a moral or religious life.  From descriptions of such men as Burch and Freeman, and others hereinafter mentioned, they are led to despise and execrate the whole class of slaveholders, indiscriminately.  But I was sometime his slave, and had an opportunity of learning well his character and disposition, and it is but simple justice to him when I say, in my opinion, there never was a more kind, noble, candid, Christian man than William Ford.  The influences and associations that had always surrounded him, blinded him to the inherent wrong at the bottom of the system of Slavery.  He never doubted the moral right of one man holding another in subjection.  Looking through the same medium with his fathers before him, he saw things in the same light.  Brought up under other circumstances and other influences, his notions would undoubtedly have been different Nevertheless, he was a model master, walking uprightly, according to the light of his understanding, and fortunate was the slave who came to his possession.  Were all men such as he, Slavery would be deprived of more than half its bitterness.

[pg. 91] - WILLIAM FORD.

     We were two days and three nights on board the steamboat Rodolph, during which time nothing of particular interest occurred.  I was now known as Platt, the name given me by Burch, and by which I was designated through the whole period of my servitude.  Eliza was sold by the name of "Dradey."  She was so distinguished in the conveyance to Ford, now on record in the recorder's office in New-Orleans.
     On our passage I was constantly reflecting on my situation, and consulting with myself on the best course to pursue in order to effect my ultimate escape.  Sometimes, not only then, but afterwards, I was almost on the point of disclosing fully to Ford the facts of my history.  I am inclined now to the opinion it would have resulted in my benefit.  This course was often considered, but through fear of its miscarriage, never put into execution, until eventually my transfer and his pecuniary embarrassments rendered it evidently unsafe.  Afterwards, under other masters, unlike William Ford, I knew well enough the slightest knowledge of my real character would consign me at once to the remoter depths of Slavery.  I was too costly a chattel to be lost, and was well aware that I would be taken farther on, into some by-place, over  the Texan border, perhaps, and sold; that I would be disposed of as the thief disposes of his stolen horse, if my right to freedom was even whispered.  So I resolved to lock the secret closely in my heart - never to utter one word or syllable as to who or what I was

[pg. 92]

- trusting in Providence and my own shrewdness for deliverance.
     At length we left the steamboat Rodolph at a place called Alexandria, several hundred miles form New Orleans.  It is a small town on the southern shore of Red River.  Having remained there over night, we entered the morning train of cars, and were soon at Bayou Lamourie, a still smaller place, distant eighteen miles from Alexandria.  At that time it was the termination of the railroad.  Ford's plantation was situated on the Texas road, twelve miles from Lamourie, in the Great Pine Woods.  This distance, it was announced to us, must be traveled on foot, there being public conveyances no farther.  Accordingly e all set out in the company of Ford.  It was an excessively hot day.  Harry, Eliza, and myself were yet weak, and the bottoms of our feet were very tender from the effects of the small-pox.  We proceeded slowly, Ford telling us to take our time and sit down and rest whenever we desired - a privilege that was taken advantage of quite frequently.  After leaving Lamourie and crossing two plantations, one belonging to Mr. Carnell, the other to a Mr. Flint, we reached the Pine Woods, a wilderness that stretches to the Sabine River.
     The whole country about Red River is low and marshy.  The Pine Woods, as they are called, is comparatively upland, with frequent small intervals, however, running through them.  This upland is covered with numerous trees - the white oak, the chincopin,

[pg. 93] - ARRIVAL AT ALEXANDRIA

resembling chestnut, but principally the yellow pine.  They are of great size, running up sixty feet, and perfectly straight.  The woods were full of cattle, very shy and wild, dashing away in herds, with a loud snuff, at our approach.  Some of them were marked or branded, the rest appeared to be in their wild and untamed state.  They are much smaller than northern breeds, and the peculiarity about them that most attracted my attention was their horns.  They stand out from the sides of the head precisely straight, like two iron spikes.
     At noon we reached a cleared piece of ground containing three or four acres.  Upon it was a small, unpainted, wooden house, a corn crib, or, as we would say, a barn, and a log kitchen, standing about a rod from the house.  It was the summer residence of Mr. Martin.  Rich planters, having large establishments on Bayou Boeuf, are accustomed to spend the warmer season in these woods.  Here they find clear water and delightful shades.  In fact, these retreats are to the planters of that section of the county what Newport and Saratoga are to the wealthier inhabitants of northern cities.
     We were sent around into the kitchen, and supplied with sweet potatoes, corn-bread, and bacon, while Master Ford dined with Martin in the house.  There were several slaves about the premises.  Martin came out and took a look at us, asking Ford the price of each, if we were green hands, and so forth, and making inquiries in relation to the slave market generally.

[pg. 94]

     After a long rest we set forth again, following the Texas road, which had the appearance of being very rarely traveled.  For five miles we passed through continuous woods without observing a single habitation.  At length, just as the sun was sinking in the west, we entered another opening, containing some twelve or fifteen acres.
     In this opening stood a house much larger than Mr. Martin's .  It was two stories high, with a piazza in front.  In the rear of it was also a log kitchen, poultry house, corncribs, and several negro cabins.  Near the house was a peach orchard, and gardens of orange and pomegranate trees.  The space was entirely surrounded by woods, and covered with a carpet of rich, rank verdure.  It was a quiet, lonely, pleasant place - literally a green spot in the wilderness.  It was the residence of my master, William Ford.
     As we approached, a yellow girl - her name was Rose - was standing on the piazza.  Going to the door, she called her mistress, who presently came running out to meet her lord.  She kissed him, and laughingly demanded if he had bought "those niggers."  Ford said he had, and told us to go round to Sally's cabin and rest ourselves.   Turning the corner of the house, we discovered Sally washing - her two baby children near her, rolling on the grass.  They jumped up and toddled towards us, looked at us a moment like a brace of rabbits, then ran back to their mother as if afraid of us.
     Sally conducted us into the cabin, told us to lay down

[pg. 95] - ARRIVAL AT MASTER FORD'S

our bundles and be seated, for she was sure that we were tired.  Just then John, the cook, a boy some sixteen years of age, and blacker than any crow, came running in, looked steadily in our faces, then turning round, without saying as much as "how d'ye do," ran back to the kitchen, laughing loudly, as if our coming was a great joke indeed.
     Much wearied with our walk, as soon as it was dark, Harry and I wrapped our blankets round us, and laid down upon the cabin floor.  My thoughts, as usual, wandered back to my wife and children.  The consciousness of my real situation; the hopelessness of any effort to escape through the wide forests of Avoyelles, pressed heavily upon me, yet my heart was at home in Saratoga.
     I was awakened early in the morning by the voice of Master Ford, calling Rose.  She hastened into the house to dress the children, Sally to the field to milk the cows, while John was busy in the kitchen preparing breakfast.  In the meantime Harry and I were strolling about the yard, looking at our new quarters.  Just after breakfast a colored man, driving three yoke of oxen, attached to a wagon load of lumber, drove into the opening.  He was a slave of Ford's, named Walton, the husband of Rose.  By the way, Rose was a native of Washington, and had been brought from thence five years before.  She had never seen Eliza, but she had heard of Berry, and they knew the same streets, and the same people, either personally, or by reputation.  They became fast friends immediately,

[pg. 96]

and talked a great deal together of old times, and of friends they had left behind.
     Ford was at that time a wealthy man.  Besides his seat in the Pine Woods, he owned a large lumbering establishment on Indian Creek, four miles distant, and also, in his wife's right, an extensive plantation and many slaves on Bayou Boeuf.
     Walton had come with his load of lumber from the mills on Indian Creek.  Ford directed us to return with him, saying he would follow us as soon as possible.  Before leaving, Mistress Ford called me into the storeroom, and handed me, as it is there termed, a tin bucket of molasses for Harry and myself.
     Eliza was still ringing her hands and deploring the loss of her children.  Ford tried as much as possible to console her - told her she need not work very hard; that she might remain with Ross, and assist the madam in the house affairs.
     Riding with Walton in the wagon, Harry and I became quite well acquainted with him long before reaching Indian Creek.  He was a "born thrall" of Ford's, and spoke kindly and affectionately of him, as a child would speak of his own father.  In answer to his inquiries from whence I came, I told him from Washington.  Of that city, he had heard much from his wife, Rose, and all the way plied me with many extravagant and absurd questions.
     On reaching the mills at Indian Creek, we found two more of Ford's slaves, Sam and Antony.  Sam, also was a Washingtonian, having been brought out

[pg. 97] - SABBATH DAYS

in the same gang with Rose.  He had worked on a farm near Georgetown.  Antony was a blacksmith, from Kentucky, who had been in his present master's service about ten years.  Sam knew Burch, and when informed that he was the trader who had sent me on from Washington, it was remarkable how well we agreed upon the subject of his superlative rascality.  He had forwarded Sam, also.
     On Ford's arrival at the mill, we were employed in piling lumber, and chopping logs, which occupation we continued during the remainder of the summer.
     We usually spent our Sabbaths at the opening, on which days our master would gather all his slaves about him, and read and expound the scriptures.  He sought to inculcate in our minds feelings of kindness towards each other of dependence upon God -  setting forth the rewards promised unto those who lead an upright and prayerful life.  Seated in the doorway of his house, surrounded by his man-servants and his maid-servants, who looked earnestly into the good man's face, he spoke of the loving kindness of the Creator, and of the life that if to come.  Often did the voice of prayer ascend from his lips to heaven, the only sound that broke the solitude of the place.
     In the course of the summer Sam became deeply convicted, his mind dwelling intensely on the subject of religion.  His mistress gave him a Bible, which he carried with him to his work.  Whatever leisure time was allowed him, he spent in perusing it, though it was only with great difficulty that he could master

[pg. 98]

any part of it.  I often read to him, a favor which he well repaid me by many expressions of gratitude.  Sam's piety was frequently observed by white men who came to the mill, and the remark it most generally provoked was, that a man like Ford, who allowed his slaves to have Bibles, was "not fit to own a nigger."
     He however, lost nothing by his kindness.  It is a fact I have more than once observed, that those who treated their slaves most leniently, were rewarded by the greatest amount of labor.  I know it from my own experience.  It was a source of pleasure to surprise Master Ford with a greater day's work than was required, while, under subsequent masters, there was no prompter to extra effort but the overseer's lash.
     It was the desire of Ford's approving voice that suggested to me an idea that resulted to his profit.  The lumber we were manufacturing was contracted to be delivered at Lamourie.  It has hitherto been transported by land, and was an important item of expense.  Indian Creek, upon which the mills were situated, was a narrow but deep stream emptying into Bayou Boeuf.  In some places it was not more than twelve feet wide, and much obstructed with trunks of trees.  Bayou Boeuf was connected with Bayou Lamourie.  I ascertained the distance from the mills to the point on the latter bayou, where our lumber was to be delivered, was but a few miles less by land then by water.  Provided the creek could be made navigable for rafts, it occurred to me that the expense of transportation would be materially diminished.

[pg. 99] - ADAM TAYDEM

     Adam Taydem, a little white man, who had been a soldier in Florida, and had strolled into that distant region, was foreman and superintendent of the mills.  He scouted the idea; but Ford, when I laid it before him, received it favorably, and permitted me to try the experiment.
     Having removed the obstructions, I made up a narrow raft, consisting of twelve cribs.  At this business I think I was quite skillful, not having forgotten my experience years before on the Champlain canal.  I labored hard, being extremely anxious to succeed, both from a desire to please my master, and to show Adam Taydem that my scheme was not such a visionary one as he incessantly pronounced it.  One hand could manage three cribs.  I took charge of the forward three, and commenced poling down the creek.  In due time we entered the first bayou, and finally reached our destination in a shorter period of time than I had anticipated.
     The arrival of the raft at Lamourie created a sensation, while Mr. Ford loaded me with commendations.  On all sides I heard Ford's Platt pronounced the "smartest nigger in the Pine Woods" - in fact I was the Fulton of Indian Creek.  I was not insensible to the praise bestowed upon me, and enjoyed, especially, my triumph over Taydem, whose half-malicious ridicule had stung my pride.  From this time the entire control of bringing the lumber to Lamourie was placed in my hands until the contract was fulfilled.

[pg. 100]

     Indian Creek, in its whole length, flows through a magnificent forest.  There dwells on its shore a tribe of Indians, a remnant of the Chickasaws or Chickopees, if I remember rightly.  They live in simple huts, ten or twelve feet square, constructed of pine poles and covered with bark.  They subsist principally on the flesh of the deer, the coon, and opossum, all of which are plenty in these woods.  Sometimes they exchange venison for a little corn and whisky with the planters on the bayous.  Their usual dress is buckskin breeches and calico hunting shirts of fantastic colors, buttoned from belt to chin.  They wear brass rings on their wrists, and in their ears and noses.  The dress of the squaws is very similar.  They are fond of dogs and horses.  - owning many of the latter, of a small, tough breed - and are skillful riders.  Their bridles, girths and saddles were made of raw skins of animals; their stirrups of a certain kind of wood.  Mounted astride their ponies, men and women, I have seen them dash out into the woods at the utmost of their speed, following narrow winding paths, and dodging trees, in a manner that eclipsed the most miraculous feats of civilized equestrianism.  Circling away in various directions, the forest echoing and re-echoing with their whoops, they would presently return at the same dashing, headlong speed with which they started.  Their village was on Indian Creek, known as Indian Castle, but their range extended to the Sabine River.  Occasionally a tribe from Texas would come over on

[pg. 101] - CASCALLA AND HIS TRIBE

a visit, and then there was indeed a carnival in the ""Great-Pine Woods."  Chief of the tribe was Cascella; second in rank, John Baltese, his son-in-law; with both of whom, as with many others of the tribe, I became acquainted during my frequent voyages down the creek with rafts.  Sam and myself would often visit them when the day's task was done.  They were obedient to the chief; the world of Cascalla was their law.  They were a rude but harmless people, and enjoyed their wild mode of life.  They had little fancy for the open country, the cleared lands on the shores of the bayous, but preferred to hide themselves within the shadows of the forest.  They worshiped the Great Spirit, loved whiskey, and were happy.
     On one occasion I was present at a dance, when a roving herd from Texas had encamped in their village.  The entire carcass of a deer was roasting before a large fire, which threw its light a long distance among the trees under which they were assembled.  When they had formed in a ring, men and squaws alternately, a sort of Indian fiddle set up an indescribable tune.  It was a continuous, melancholy kind of wavy sound, with the slightest possible variation.  At the first note, if indeed there was more than one note in the whole tune, they circled around, trotting after each other, and giving utterance to a guttural, sing-song noise, equally as nondescript as the music of the fiddle.  At the end of the third circuit, they would stop suddenly, whoop as if their lungs

[pg. 102]

would crack, then break from the ring, forming in couples, man and squaw, each jumping backwards as far as possible from the other, then forwards - which graceful feat having been twice or thrice accomplished, they would form in a ring, and go trotting round again.  The best dancer appeared to be considered the one who could whoop the loudest, jump the farthest, and utter the most excruciating noise.  At intervals, one or more would leave the dancing circle, and going to the fire, cut from the roasting carcass a slice of venison.
     In a hole, shaped like a mortar, cut in the trunk of a fallen tree, they pounded corn with a wooden pestle, and of the meal made cake.  Alternately they danced and ate.  Thus were the visitors from Texas entertained by the dusky sons and daughters of the Chickopees, and such is a description, as I saw it, of an Indian ball in the Pine Woods of Avoyelles.
     In the autumn, I left the mills, and was employed at the opening.  One day the mistress was urging Ford to procure a loom, in order that Sally might commence weaving cloth for the winter garments of the slaves.  He could not imagine where one was to be found, when I suggested that the easiest way to get one would be to make it, informing him at the same time, that I was a sort of "Jack at all trades," and would attempt it, with his permission.  It was granted very readily, and I was allowed to go to a neighboring planter's to inspect one before commencing the undertaking.  At length it was finished

[pg. 103] - JOHN M. TIBEATS.

and pronounced by Sally to be perfect.  She could easily weave her task of fourteen yards, milk the cows, and have leisure time besides each day.  It worked so well, I was continued in the employment of making looms, which were taken down to the plantation on the bayou.
     At this time one John M. Tibeats a carpenter, came to the opening to do some work on master's house.  I was directed to quit the looms and assist him.  For two weeks I was in his company, planing and matching boards for the ceiling, a plastered room being a rare thing in the parish of Avoyelles.
     John M. Tibeats was the opposite of Ford in all respects.  He was a small, crabbed, quick-tempered, spiteful man.  He had no fixed residence that I ever heard of, but passed from one plantation to another, wherever he could find employment.  He was without standing in the community, not esteemed by white men, nor oven respected by slaves.  He was ignorant, withal, and of a revengeful disposition.  He left the parish long before I did, and I know not whether he is at present alive or dead.  Certain it is, it was a most unlucky day for me that brought us together.  During my residence with Master Ford I had seen only the bright side of slavery.  His was no heavy hand crushing us to the earth.  He pointed upwards, and with benign and cheering words addressed us as his fellow-mortals, accountable, like himself, to the Maker of us all.  I think of him with affection, and had my family been with me, could

[pg. 104]

have borne his gentle servitude, without murmuring, all my days.  But clouds were gathering in the horizon - forerunners of a pitiless storm that was soon to break over me.  I was doomed to endure such bitter trials as the poor slave only knows, and to lead no more the comparatively happy life which I had led in the "Great Pine Woods."

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