I once had the misfortune to break the lock of master's shot gun, and when
it came to his knowledge, he came to me in a towering passion, and charged
me with what he considered the _crime_ of carelessness. I denied it, and
told him I knew nothing about it; but I was so terribly frightened that he
saw I was guilty, and told me so, foaming with rage; and then I confessed
the truth. But oh, there was no escaping the lash. Its recollection
is still bitter, and ever will be. I was commanded to take off my clothes,
which I did, and then master put me on the back of another slave, my
arms hanging down before him and my hands clasped in his, where he was
obliged to hold me with a vise-like grasp. Then master gave me the most
severe flogging that I ever received, and I pray God that I may never
again experience such torture. And yet Capt. Helm was not the worst of
masters.
These cruelties are daily occurrences, and so degrading is the whole
practice of Slavery, that it not only crushes and brutalizes the wretched
slave, but it hardens the heart, benumbs all the fine feelings of
humanity, and deteriorates from the character of the slaveholders
themselves,--whether man or woman. Otherwise, how could a gentle, and in
other respects, amiable woman, look on such scenes of cruelty, without
a shudder of utter abhorrence? But slaveholding ladies, can not only look
on quietly, but with approbation; and what is worse, though very common,
they can and do use the lash and cowhide themselves, on the backs of their
slaves, and that too on those of their own sex! Far rather would I spend
my life in a State's Prison, than be the slave of the best slaveholder
on the earth!
When I was not employed as an errand-boy, it was my duty to stand behind
my master's chair, which was sometimes the whole day, never being allowed
to sit in his presence.
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