CHAPTER V.

by Solomon Northup

　　CHAPTER V.ARRIVAL AT NORFOLK FREDERICK AND MARIA ARTHUR, THE FREEMANAPPOINTED STEWARD JIM, CUFFEE, AND JENNY THE STORM BA-HAMA BANKS THE CALM THE CONSPIRACY THE LONG BOAT THESMALL-POX DEATH OF ROBERT MANNING, THE SAILOR THE MEETINGIN THE FORECASTLE THE LETTER ARRIVAL AT NEW-ORLEANS AR-THUR'S RESCUE THEOPHILUS FREEMAN, THE CONSIGNEE PLATT FIRSTNIGHT IN THE NEW-ORLEANS SLATE PEN.After we were all on board, the brig Orleans pro-ceeded down James River. Passing into ChesapeakeBay, we arrived next day opposite the city of JSTor-folk. While lying at anchor, a lighter approachedus from the town, bringing four more slaves. Frede-rick, a boy of eighteen, had been born a slave, as alsohad Henry, who was some years older. They hadboth been house servants in the city. Maria was arather genteel looking colored girl, with a faultlessform, but ignorant and extremely vain. The idea ofgoing to New-Orleans was pleasing to her. She en-tertained an extravagantly high opinion of her ownattractions. Assuming a haughty mien, she declaredto her companions, that immediately on our arrivalin ISTew-Orleans, she had no doubt, some wealthy sin-gle gentleman of good taste would purchase her atonce !

　　66 TWELVE YEARS A SLAVE.But the most prominent of the four, was a mannamed Arthur. As the lighter approached, he strug-gled stoutly with his keepers. It was with mainforce that he was dragged aboard the brig. He pro-tested, in a loud voice, against the treatment he wasreceiving, and demanded to be released. His facewas swollen, and covered with wounds and bruises,and, indeed, one side of it was a complete raw sore.He was forced, with all haste, down the hatchwayinto the hold. I caught an outline of his story as hewas borne struggling along, of which he afterwardsgave me a more full relation, and it was as follows :He had long resided in the city of Norfolk, and wasa free man. He had a family living there, and was amason by trade. Having been unusually detained,he was returning late one night to his house in thesuburbs of the city, when he was attacked by a gangof persons in an unfrequented street. He foughtuntil his strength failed him. Overpowered at last,he was gagged and bound with ropes, and beaten,until he became insensible. For several days theysecreted him in the slave pen at Norfolk — a verycommon establishment, it appears, in the cities of theSouth. The night before, he had been taken out andput on board the lighter, which, pushing out fromshore, had nwaited our arrival. For some time hecontinued his protestations, and was altogether irrec-oncilable. At length, however, he became silent.He sank into a gloomy and thoughtful mood, and ap-peared to be counseling with himself. There was in

　　JIM, CUFEE AND JENNY. 67the man's determined face, something that suggestedthe thought of desperation.After leaving Norfolk the hand-cuffs were takenoff, and during the day we were allowed to remainon deck. The captain selected Robert as his waiter,and I was appointed to superintend the cooking de-partment, and the distribution of food and water. Ihad three assistants, Jim, Cuffee and Jenny. Jenny'sbusiness was to prepare the coffee, which consisted ofcorn meal scorched in a kettle, boiled and sweetenedwith molasses. Jim and Cuffee baked the hoe-cakeand boiled the bacon.Standing by a table, formed of a wide board rest-ing on the heads of the barrels, I cut and handed toeach a slice of meat and a " dodger" of the bread,and from Jenny's kettle also clipped out for each acup of the coffee. The use of plates was dispensedwith, and their sable fingers took the place of knivesand forks. Jim and Cuffee were very demure andattentive to business, somewhat inflated with theirsituation as second cooks, and without doubt feelingthat there was a great responsibility resting on them.I was called steward — a name given me by the cap-tain.The slaves were fed twice a day, at ten and fiveo'clock — always receiving the same kind and quantityof fare, and in the same manner as above described.At night we were driven into the hold, and securelyfastened down.Scarcely were we out of sight of land before we

　　68 TWELVE TEAKS A SLAVE.were overtaken by a violent storm. The brig rolledand plunged until we feared she would go down.Some were sea-sick, others on their knees praying,while some were fast holding to each other, paralyzedwith fear. The sea-sickness rendered the place of ourconfinement loathsome and disgusting. It wouldhave been a happy thing for most of us — it wouldhave saved the agony of many hundred lashes, andmiserable deaths at last — had the compassionate seasnatched us that day from the clutches of remorselessmen. The thought of Randall and little Emmy sink-ing down among the monsters of the deep, is a morepleasant contemplation than to think of them as theyare now, perhaps, dragging out lives of unrequitedtoil.When in sight of the Bahama Banks, at a placecalled Old Point Compass, or the Hole in the Wall,we were becalmed three days. There was scarcely abreath of air. The waters of the gulf presented asingularly white appearance, like lime water.In the order of events, I come now to the relationof an occurrence, which I never call to mind but withsensations of regret. I thank God, who has sincepermitted me to escape from the thralklom of slavery,that through his merciful interposition I was prevent-ed from imbruing my hands in the blood of his crea-tures. Let not those who have never been placed inlike circumstances, judge me harshly. Until theyhave been chained and beaten • — -until they find them-selves in the situation I was, borne away from home

　　THE CONSPIRACY. 69and family towards a land of bondage — let them re-frain from saying what they would not do for liberty.How far I should have been justified in the sight ofGod and man, it is unnecessary now to speculate upon.It is enough to say that I am able to congratulatemyself upon the harmless termination of an affairwhich threatened, for a time, to be attended with se-rious results.Towards evening, on the first day of the calm, Ar-thur and myself were in the bow of the vessel, seat-ed on the windlass. We were conversing together ofthe probable destiny that awaited us, and mourningtogether over our misfortunes. Arthur said, and Iagreed with him, that death was far less terrible thanthe living prospect that was before us. For a longtime we talked of our children, our past lives, and ofthe probabilities of escape. Obtaining possession ofthe brig was suggested by one of us. We discussedthe possibility of our being able, in such an event, tomake our way to the harbor of New-York. I knewlittle of the compass ; but the idea of risking the ex-periment was eagerly entertained. The chances, forand against us, in an encounter with the crew, wascanvassed Who could be relied upon, and whocould not, the proper time and manner of the attack,were all talked over and over again. From the mo-ment the plot suggested itself I began to hope. Irevolved it constantly in my mind. As difficulty af-ter difficulty arose, some ready conceit was at hand,demonstrating!; how it could be overcome. While

　　70 TWELVE YEAKS A SLAVE.others slept, Arthur and I were maturing our plans.At length, with much caution, Robert was graduallymade acquainted with our intentions. He approvedof them at once, and entered into the conspiracy witha zealous spirit. There was not another slave wedared to trust. Brought up in fear and ignorance asthey are, it can scarcely be conceived how servilelythey will cringe before a white man's look. It wasnot safe to deposit so bold a secret with any of them,and finally we three resolved to take upon ourselvesalone the fearful responsibility of the attempt.At night, as has been said, we were driven into thehold, and the hatch barred down. How to reach thedeck was the first difficulty that presented itself. Onthe bow of the brig, however, I had observed thesmall boat lying bottom upwards. It occurred to methat by secreting ourselves underneath it, we wouldnot be missed from the crowd, as they were hurrieddown into the hold at night. I was selected to makethe experiment, in order to satisfy ourselves of its fea-sibility. The next evening, accordingly, after supper,watching my opportunity, I hastily concealed myselfbeneath it. Lying close upon the deck, I could seewhat was going on around me, while wholly unper-ceived myself. In the morning, as they came up, Islipped from my hiding place without being observed.The result Was entirely satisfactory.The captain and mate slept in the cabin of the for-mer. From Robert, who had frequent occasion, inhis capacity of waiter, to make observations in that

　　THE CONSPIRACY. 71quarter, we ascertained the exact position of theirrespective berths. He further informed us that therewere always two pistols and a cutlass lying on thetable. The crew's cook slept in the cook galley ondeck, a sort of vehicle on wheels, that could be mov-ed about as convenience required, while the sailors,numbering only six, either slept in the forecastle, orin hammocks swung among the rigging.Finally our arrangements were all completed. Ar-thur and I were to steal silently to the captain's cab-in, seize the pistols and cutlass, and as quickly as possi-ble despatch him and the mate. Robert, with a club,was to stand by the door leading from the deck downinto the cabin, and, in case of necessity, beat back thesailors, until we could hurry to his assistance. Wewere to proceed then as circumstances might require.Should the attack be so sudden and successful as toprevent resistance, the hatch was to remain barreddown ; otherwise the slaves were to be called up, andin the crowd, and hurry, and confusion of the time,we resolved to regain our liberty or lose our lives. Iwas then to assume the unaccustomed place of pilot,and, steering northward, we trusted that some luckywind might bear us to the soil of freedom.The mate's name was Biddee, the captain's I can-not now recall, though I rarely ever forget a nameonce heard. The captain was a small, genteel man,erect and prompt, with a proud bearing, and lookedthe personification of courage. If he is still living,and these pages should chance to meet his eye, he

　　12 TWELVE TEARS A SLAVE.will learn a fact connected with, the voyage of thebrig, from Richmond to ]STew-Orleans, in 1841, notentered on his log-book.We were all prepared, and impatiently waiting anopportunity of putting onr designs into execution,when they were frustrated by a sad and unforeseenevent. Robert was taken ill. It was soon announcedthat lie had the small-pox. He continued to growworse, and four days previous to our arrival inlSTew-Orleans he died. One of the sailors sewed him in hisblanket, with a large stone from the ballast at his feet,and then laying him on a hatchway, and elevating itwith tackles above the railing, the inanimate body ofpoor Robert was consigned to the white waters of thegulf.We were all panic-stricken by the appearance ofthe small-pox. The captain ordered lime to be scat-tered through the hold, and other prudent precau-tions to be taken. The death of Robert, however, andthe presence of the malady, oppressed me sadly, andI gazed out over the great waste of waters with aspirit that was indeed disconsolate.An evening or two after Robert's burial, I wasleaning on the hatchway near the forecastle, full ofdesponding thoughts, when a sailor in a kind voiceasked me why I was so down-hearted. The tone andmanner of the man assured me, and I answered, be-cause I was a freeman, and had been kidnapped.He remarked that it was enough to make any onedown-hearted, and continued to interrogate me until

　　MANNING, THE SAILOR. - 73he learned tlie particulars of my whole history. Hewas evidently much interested in my behalf, and, inthe blunt speech of a sailor, swore he would aid meall he could, if it " split his timbers." I requestedhim to furnish me pen, ink and paper, in order that Imight write to some of my friends. He promised toobtain them — but how I could use them undiscover-ed was a difficulty. If I could only get into the fore-castle while his watch was off, and the other sailorsasleep, the thing could be accomplished. The smallboat instantly occurred to me. He thought we werenot far from the Balize, at the mouth of the Mississip-pi, and it was necessary that the letter be writtensoon, or the opportunity would be lost. Accordingly,by arrangement, I managed the next night to secretmyself again under the long-boat. His watch was offat twelve. I saw him pass into the forecastle, and inabout an hour followed him. He was nodding overa table, half asleep, on which a sickly light was flick-ering, and on which also was a pen and sheet of pa-per. As I entered he aroused, beckoned me to a seatbeside him, and pointed to the paper. I directed theletter to Henry B. Northup, of Sandy Hill — statingthat I had been kidnapped, was then on board thebrig Orleans, bound for ISTew-Orleans ; that it wasthen impossible for me to conjecture my ultimate des-tination, and requesting lie would take measures torescue me. The letter was sealed and directed, andManning, having read it, promised to deposit it in theNew-Orleans post-office. I hastened back to my place

　　7-i TWELVE TEAKS A SLAVE.under the long-boat, and in the morning, as the slavescame up and were walking round, crept out unno-ticed and mingled with them.My good friend, whose name was John Manning,was an Englishman by birth, and a noble-hearted,generous sailor as ever walked a deck. He had livedin Boston — was a tall, well-built man, about twenty-four years old, with a face somewhat pock-marked,but full of benevolent expression.Nothing to vary the monotony of our daily life oc-curred, until we reached New-Orleans. On comingto the levee, and before the vessel was made fast, Isaw Manning leap on shore and hurry away into thecity. As he- started off he looked back over his shoul-der significantly, giving me to understand the objectof his errand. Presently he returned, and passingclose by me, hunched me with his elbow, with a pe-culiar wink, as much as to say, " it is all right."The letter, as I have since learned, reached SandyHill. Mr. North up visited Albany and laid it beforeGovernor Seward, but inasmuch as it gave no definiteinformation as to my probable locality, it was not, atthat time, deemed advisable to institute measures formy liberation. It was concluded to delay, trustingthat a knowledge of where I was might eventually beobtained.A happy and touching scene was witnessed imme-diately upon our reaching the levee. Just as Man-ning left the brig, on his way to the post-office, twomen came up and called aloud for Arthur. The lat-

　　akthur's rescue. 75ter, as he recognized tliem, was almost crazy with de-light. He could hardly be restrained from leapingover the brig's side ; and when they met soon after,he grasped them by the hand, and clung to them along, long time. They were men from Norfolk, whohad come on to New-Orleans to rescue him. Hiskidnappers, they informed him, had been arrested,and were then confined in the Norfolk prison. Theyconversed a few moments with the captain, and thendeparted with the rejoicing Arthur.But in all the crowd that thronged the wharf, therewas no one who knew or cared for me. Not one.No familiar voice greeted my ears, nor was there asingle face that I had ever seen. Soon Arthur wouldrejoin his family, and have the satisfaction of seeinghis wrongs avenged : my family, alas, should I eversee them more ? There was a feeling of utter deso-lation in my heart, filling it with a despairing and re-gretful sense, that I had not gone down with Robertto the bottom of the sea.Very soon traders and consignees came on board.One, a tall, thin-faced man, with light complexionand a little bent, made his appearance, with a paperin his hand. Burch's gang, consisting of myself, Eli-za and her children, Harry, Lethe, and some others,who had joined us at Richmond, were consigned tohim. This gentleman was Mr. Theophilus Freeman.Reading from his paper, he called, " Piatt." No oneanswered. The name was called again and again, butstill there was no reply. Then Lethe was called, then

　　76 TWELVE TEAKS A SLATE.Eliza, then Harry, until the list was finished, eachone stepping forward as his or her name was called." Captain, where's Piatt V demanded TheophilusFreeman.The captain was unable to inform him, no one be-ing on board answering to that name."Who shipped thai nigger?" he again inquired ofthe captain, pointing to me." Burch," replied the captain." Your name is Piatt — you answer my description.Why don't you come forward ?" he demanded of me,in an angry tone.I informed him that was not my name ; that I hadnever been called by it, but that I had no objectionto it as I knew of." "Well, I will learn you your name," said he ; " andso you won't forget it either, by ," he added.Mr. Theophilus Freeman, by the way, was not awhit behind his partner, Burch, in the matter of blas-phemy. On the vessel I had gone by the name of" Steward," and this was the first time I had everbeen designated as Piatt — the name forwarded byBurch to his consignee. From the vessel I observ-ed the chain-gang at work on the levee. We passednear them as we were driven to Freeman's slave pen.This pen is very similar to Goodin's in Richmond, ex-cept the yard was enclosed by plank, standing up-right, with ends sharpened, instead of brick walls.Including us, there were now at least fifty in thispen. Depositing our blankets in one of the small

　　FIRST MIGHT IN NEW-ORLEANS. 77buildings in the yard, and having been called up andfed, we were allowed to saunter about the enclosureuntil night, when we wrapped our blankets round usand laid down under the shed, or in the loft, or in theopen yard, just as each one preferred.It was but a short time I closed ray eyes that night.Thought was busy in ray brain. Could it be possiblethat I was thousands of miles from home — that I hadbeen driven through the streets like a dumb beast — ■that I had been chained and beaten without mercy —that I was even then herded with a drove of slaves, aslave myself? Were the events of the last few weeksrealities indeed ? — or was I passing only through thedismal phases of a long, protracted dream ? It wasno illusion. My cup of sorrow was full to overflow-ing. Then I lifted up my hands to God, and in thestill watches of the night, surrounded by the sleepingforms of my companions, begged for mercy on thepoor, forsaken captive. To the Almighty Father ofus all — the freeman and the slave — I poured forththe supplications of a broken spirit, imploring strengthfrom on high to bear up against the burden of mytroubles, until the morning light aroused the slumber-ers, ushering in another day of bondage.