CHAPTER XIII.

by Solomon Northup

　　CHAPTER XIII.THE CURIOUS AXE-HELVE SYMPTOMS OF APPROACHING ILLNESS — CONTINUETO DECLINE THE "WHIP INEFFECTUAL CONFINED TO THE CABIN VISITBY DR. WINES PARTIAL RECOVERY FAILURE AT COTTON PICKING"WHAT MAY BE HEARD ON EPPs' PLANTATION LASHES GRADUATED EPPSIN A "WHIPPING MOOD EPPS IN A DANCING MOOD DESCRIPTION OF THEDANCE LOSS OF REST NO EXCUSE EPPs' CHARACTERISTICS JIM BURNSREMOVAL FROM HUFF POWER TO BAYOU BCEUF DESCRIPTION OF UNCLEABRAM ; OF WILEY ; OF AUNT PHEBE ; OF BOB, HENRY, AND EDWARD ; OFPATSEYJ WITH A GENEALOGICAL ACCOUNT OF EACH SOMETHING OF THEIRPAST HISTORY, AND PECULIAR CHARACTERISTICS JEALOUSY AND LUSTPATSEY, THE VICTIM.On my arrival at Master Epps', in obedience to hisorder, the first business upon which I entered was themaking of an axe-helve. The handles in use thereare simply a round, straight stick. I made a crookedone, shaped like those to which I had been accustom-ed at the North. When finished, and presented toEpps, he looked at it with astonishment, unable todetermine exactly what it was. He had never beforeseen such a handle, and when I explained its conveni-ences, he was forcibly struck with the novelty of theidea. He kept it in the house a long time, and when hisfriends called, was wont to exhibit it as a curiosity.It was now the season of hoeing. I was first sent

　　APPKOACHENG ILLNESS. 177into the corn-field, and afterwards set to scraping cot-ton. In this employment I remained until hoeingtime was nearly passed, when I began to experiencethe symptoms of approaching illness. I was attackedwith chills, which were succeeded by a burning fever;I became weak and emaciated, and frecpiently so diz-zy that it caused me to reel and stagger like a drunk-en man. Nevertheless, I was compelled to keep upmy row. "When in health I found little difficulty inkeeping pace with my fellow-laborers, but now itseemed to be an utter impossibility. Often I fell be-hind, when the driver's lash was sure to greet myback, infusing into my sick and drooping body a littletemporary energy. I continued to decline until atlength the whip became entirely ineffectual. Thesharpest sting of the rawhide could not arouse me.Finally, in September, when the busy season of cottonpicking was at hand, I was unable to leave my cabin.Up to this time I had received no medicine, nor anyattention from my master or mistress. The old cookvisited me occasionally, preparing me corn-coffee, andsometimes boiling a bit of bacon, when I had growntoo feeble to accomplish it myself.When it was said that I would die, Master Epps,unwilling to bear the loss, which the death of an ani-mal worth a thousand dollars would bring upon him,concluded to incur the expense of sending to Holmes-ville for Dr. "Wines. He announced to Epps that itwas the effect of the climate, and there was a proba-bility of his losing me. He directed me to eat noH* 12

　　178 TWELVE YEARS A SLAVE.meat, and to partake of no more food than was abso-lutely necessary to sustain life. Several weeks elaps-ed, during which time, under the scanty diet to whichI was subjected, I had partially recovered. Onemorning, long before I was in a proper condition tolabor, Epps appeared at the cabin door, and, present-ing me a sack, ordered me to the cotton field. At thistime I had had no experience whatever in cotton pick-ing. It was an awkward business indeed. Whileothers used both hands, snatching the cotton and de-positing it in the mouth of the sack, with a precisionand dexterity that was incomprehensible to me, Ihad to seize the boll with one hand, and deliberatelydraw out the white, gushing blossom with the other.Depositing the cotton in the sack, moreover, was adifficulty that demanded the exercise of both handsand eyes. I was compelled to pick it from the groundwhere it would fall, nearly as often as from the stalkwhere it had grown. I made havoc also with thebranches, loaded with the yet unbroken bolls, thelong, cumbersome sack swinging from side to side ina manner not allowable in the cotton field. After amost laborious day I arrived at the gin-house with myI load. When the scale determined its weight to beonly ninety -five pounds, not half the quantity requiredof the poorest picker, Epps threatened the severestflogging, but in consideration of my being a " rawhand," concluded to pardon me on that occasion.The following day, and many days succeeding, I re-turned at nisdit with no better success — I was evi-

　　LASHES GRADUATED. 179dently not designed for that kind of labor. I had notthe gift — the dexterous fingers and quick motion ofPatsey, who could fly along one side of a row of cot-ton, stripping it of its underlie d and fleecy whitenessmiraculously fast. Practice and whipping were alikeunavailing, and Epps, satisfied of it at last, swore I wasa disgrace — that I was not fit to associate with a cot-ton-picking "nigger" — that I could not pick enoughin a day to pay the trouble of weighing it, and that Ishould go into the cotton field no more. I was nowemployed in cutting and hauling wood, drawing cot-ton from the field to the gin-house, and performedwhatever other service was required. Suffice to say,I was never permitted to be idle.It was rarely that a day passed by without one ormore whippings. This occurred at the time the cot-ton was weighed. The delinquent, whose weight hadfallen short, was taken out, stripped, made to lie uponthe ground, face downwards, when he received a pun-ishment proportioned to his offence. It is the literal,unvarnished truth, that the crack of the lash, andthe shrieking of the slaves, can be heard from darktill bed time, on Epps' plantation, any day almostduring the entire period of the cotton-picking season.The number of lashes is graduated according to thenature of the case. Twenty-five are deemed a merebrush, inflicted, for instance, when a dry leaf or pieceof boll is found in the cotton, or when a branch isbroken in the field ; fifty is the ordinary penalty fol-lowing all delinquencies of the next higher grade ; one

　　180 TWELVE YEARS A SLAVE.hundred is called severe : it is the punishment inflict-ed for the serious offence of standing idle in the field ;from one hundred and fifty to two hundred is bestow-ed upon him who quarrels with his cabin-mates, andfive hundred, well laid on, besides the mangling ofthe dogs, perhaps, is certain to consign the poor, un-pitied runaway to weeks of pain and agony.During the two years Epps remained on the plan-tation at Bayou Huff Power, he was in the habit, asoften as once in a fortnight at least, of coming homeintoxicated from Holmesville. The shooting-matchesalmost invariably concluded with a debauch. At suchtimes he was boisterous and half-crazy. Often hewould break the dishes, chairs, and whatever furni-ture he could lay his hands on. "When satisfied withhis amusement in the house, he would seize the whipand walk forth into the yard. Then it behooved theslaves to be watchful and exceeding wary. The firstone who came within reach felt the smart of his lash.Sometimes for hours he would keep them running inall directions, dodging around the corners of the cab-ins. Occasionally he would come upon one unawares,and if he succeeded in inflicting a fair, round blow, itwas a feat that much delighted him. The youngerchildren, and the aged, who had become inactive,suffered then. In the midst of the confusion he wouldslily take his stand behind a cabin, waiting with rais-ed whip, to dash it into the first black face that peep-ed cautiously around the corner.At other times he would come home in a less brutal

　　EPPS IN A DANCING MOOD. 181humor. Then there must be a merry-making. Thenall must move to the measure of a tune. Then Mas-ter Epps must needs regale his melodious ears withthe music of a fiddle. Then did he become buoyant,elastic, gaily " tripping the light fantastic toe" aroundthe piazza and all through the house.Tibeats, at the time of my sale, had informedhim I could play on the violin. He had receiv-ed his information from Ford. Through the im-portunities of Mistress Epps, her husband had been in-duced to purchase me one during a visit to New-Or-leans. Frequently I was called into the house to playbefore the family, mistress being passionately fond ofmusic.All of us would be assembled in the large room ofthe great house, whenever Epps came home in one ofhis dancing moods. No matter how worn out andtired we were, there must be a general dance. Whenproperly stationed on the floor, I would strike up a tune."Dance, you d — d niggers, dance," Epps wouldshout.Then there must be no halting or delay, no slow orlanguid movements ; all must be brisk, and lively,and alert. " Up and down, heel and toe, and awaywe go," was the order of the hour. Epps' portly formmingled with those of his dusky slaves, moving rap-idly through all the mazes of the dance.Usually his whip was in his hand, ready to fallabout the ears of the presumptuous thrall, who daredto rest a moment, or even stop to catch his breath.

　　182 TWELVE YEAES A SLAVE.When lie was himself exhausted, there would be abrief cessation, but it would be very brief. With aslash, and crack, and flourish of the whip, he wouldshout again, " Dance, niggers, dance," and away theyw r ould go once more, pell-mell, while I. spurred by anoccasional sharp touch of the lash, sat in a corner, ex-tracting from my violin a marvelous quick-steppingtune. The mistress often upbraided him, declaringshe would return to her father's house at Cheney ville ;nevertheless, there were times she could not restraina burst of laughter, on witnessing his uproariouspranks. Frequently, we were thus detained until al-most morning. Bent with excessive toil — actuallysuffering for a little refreshing rest, and feeling ratheras if we could cast ourselves upon the earth and weep,many a night in the house of Edwin Epps have hisunhappy slaves been made to dance and laugh.Notwithstanding these deprivations in order to grat-ify the whim of an unreasonable master, we had tobe in the field as soon as it was light, and during theday perform the ordinary and accustomed task. Suchdeprivations could not be urged at the scales in exten-uation of any lack of weight, or in the cornfield fornot hoeing with the usual rapidity. The whippingswere just as severe as if we had gone forth in themorning, strengthened and invigorated by a night'srepose. Indeed, after such frantic revels, he wasalways more sour and savage than before, punishingfor slighter causes, and using the whip with increasedand more vindictive energy.

　　CHARACTER OF EPrS. 183Ten years I toiled for that man without reward.Ten years of my incessant labor has contributed toincrease the bulk of his possessions. Ten years I wascompelled to address him with down-cast eyes anduncovered head — in the attitude and language of aslave. I am indebted to him for nothing, save unde-served abuse and stripes.Beyond the reach of his inhuman thong, and stand-ing on the soil of the free State where I was born,thanks be to Heaven, I can raise my head once moreamong men. I can speak of the wrongs I have suf-fered, and of those who inflicted them, with upraisedeyes. But I have no desire to speak of him or anyother one otherwise than truthfully. Yet to speaktruthfully of Edwin Epps would be to say — he is aman in whose heart the quality of kindness or of jus-tice is not found. A rough, rude energy, united withan uncultivated mind and an avaricious spirit, are hisprominent characteristics. He is known as a " niggerbreaker," distinguished for his faculty of subduing thespirit of the slave, and priding himself upon his repu-tation in this respect, as a jockey boasts of his skill inmanaging a refractory horse. He looked upon a col-ored man, not as a human being, responsible to his Crea-tor for the small talent entrusted to him, but as a " chat-tel personal," as mere live property, no better, exceptin value, than his mule or dog. When the evidence,clear and indisputable, was laid before him that I wasa free man, and as much entitled to my liberty as he— when, on the day I left, he was informed that I

　　184 TWELVE YEARS A SLAVE.liad a wife and children, as dear to rne as his own"babes to him, he only raved and swore, denouncingthe law that tore me from him, and declaring hewould find out the man who had forwarded the letterthat disclosed the place of my captivity, if there wasany virtue or power in money, and would take hislife. He thought of nothing but his loss, and cursedme for having been born free. He could have stoodunmoved and seen the tongues of his poor slavestorn out by the roots — he could have seen themburned to ashes over a slow lire, or gnawed to deathby dogs, if it only brought him profit. Such a hard,cruel, unjust man is Edwin Epps.There was but one greater savage on Bayou Bceufthan he. Jim Burns' plantation was cultivated, asalready mentioned, exclusively by women. Thatbarbarian kept their backs so sore and raw, that theycould not perform the customary labor demandeddaily of the slave. He boasted of his cruelty, andthrough all the country round was accounted a morethorough-going, energetic man than even Epps. Abrute himself, Jim Burns had not a particle of mercyfor his subject brutes, and like a fool, whipped andscourged away the very strength upon which depend-ed his amount of gain.Epps remained on Huff Power two years, when,having accumulated a considerable sum of money, heexpended it in the purchase of the plantation on theeast bank of Bayou Boeuf, where he still continues toreside. He took possession of it in 1845, after the

　　UNCLE ABEAM, WILEY, &C. 185holidays were passed. He carried thither with himnine slaves, all of whom, except myself, and Susan,who has since died, remain there yet. He made noaddition to this force, and for eight years the follow-ing were my companions in his quarters, viz : Abram,"Wiley, Phebe, Bob, Henry, Edward, and Patsey.All these, except Edward, born since, were purchasedout of a drove by Epps during the time he was over-seer for Archy B. Williams, whose plantation is situa-ted on the shore of Red River, not far from Alexan-dria.Abram was tall, standing a full head above anycommon man. He is sixty years of age, and wasborn in Tennessee. Twenty years ago, he was pur-chased by a trader, carried into South Carolina, andsold to James Buford, of Willi arnsburgh county, inthat State. In his youth he was renowned for hisgreat strength, but age and unremitting toil havesomewhat shattered his powerful frame and enfeebledhis mental faculties.Wiley is forty-eight. He was born on the estateof William Tassle, and for many years took charge of *that gentleman's ferry over the Big Black Kiver, inSouth Carolina.Phebe was a slave of Buford, Tassle's neighbor,and having married Wiley, he bought the latter, ather instigation. Buford was a kind master, sheriff ofthe county, and in those days a man of wealth.Bob and Henry are Phebe's children, by a former thusband, their father having been abandoned to give

　　186 TWELVE TEAKS A SLAVE.place to Wiley. That seductive youth had insinuatedhimself into Phebe's affections, and therefore thefaithless spouse had gently kicked her first husbandout of her cabin door. Edward had been born tothem on Bayou Huff Power.Patsey is twenty-three — also from Buford's planta-tion. She is in no wise connected with the others,but glories in the fact that she is the offspring of a" Guinea nigger," brought over to Cuba in a slaveship, and in the course of trade transferred to Buford,who was her mother's owner.This, as I learned from them, is a genealogical accountof my master's slaves. For years they had been to-gether. Often they recalled the memories of otherdays, and sighed to retrace their steps to the old homein Carolina. Troubles came upon their master Bu-ford, which brought far greater troubles upon them.He became involved in debt, and unable to bear upagainst his failing fortunes, was compelled to sell these,and others of his slaves. In a chain gang they hadbeen driven from beyond the Mississippi to the plan-tation of Archy B. Williams. Edwin Epps, who, for along while had been his driver and overseer, wasabout establishing himself in business on his own ac-count, at the time of their arrival, and accepted themin payment of his wages.Old Ab ram was a kind-hearted being — a sort ofpatriarch among us, fond of entertaining his youngerbrethren with grave and serious discourse. He wasdeeply versed in such philosophy as is taught in the

　　UNCLE ABEAM AND ATJNT PHEBE. 187cabin of the slave ; but the great absorbing hobby ofUncle Abram was General Jackson, whom his youngmaster in Tennessee had followed to the wars. Heloved to wander back, in imagination, to the placewhere he was born, and to recount the scenes of hisyouth during those stirring times when the nation wasin arms. He had been athletic, and more keen andpowerful than the generality of his race, but now hiseye had become dim, and his natural force abated.Very ofteiij indeed, while discussing the best methodof baking the hoe-cake, or expatiating at large uponthe glory of Jackson, he would forget where he lefthis hat, or his hoe, or his basket ; and then would theold man be laughed at, if Epps was absent, and whip-ped if he was present. So was he perplexed continu-ally, and sighed to think that he was growing agedand going to decay. Philosophy and Jackson andforgetfulness had played the mischief with him, andit was evident that all of them combined were fastbringing down the gray hairs of Uncle Abram to thegrave.Aunt Phebe had been an excellent field hand, butlatterly was put into the kitchen, where she remained,except occasionally, in a time of uncommon hurry.She was a sly old creature, and when not in thepresence of her mistress or her master, was garrulousin the extreme.Wiley, on the contrary, was silent. He performedhis task without murmur or complaint, seldom in-dulging in the luxury of speech, except to utter a

　　188 TWELVE TEAKS A SLAVE.wish, tliat lie was away from Epps, and back oncemore in South Carolina.Boh and Henry had reached the ages of twentyand twenty-three, and were distinguished for nothingextraordinary or unusual, while Edward, a lad ofthirteen, not yet able to maintain his row in the cornor the cotton field, was kept in the great house, towait on the little Eppses.Patsey was slim and straight. She stood erect asthe human form is capable of standing. There wasan air of loftiness in her movement, that neither labor,nor weariness, nor punishment could destroy. Truly,Patsey was a splendid animal, and were it not thatbondage had enshrouded her intellect in utter andeverlasting darkness, would have been chief amongten thousand of her people. She could leap thehighest fences, and a fleet hound it was indeed, thatcould outstrip her in a race. No horse could fling herfrom his back. She was a skillful teamster. Sheturned as true a furrow as the best, and at splittingrails there were none who could excel her. Whenthe order to halt was heard at night, she would haveher mules at the crib, unharnessed, fed and curried,before uncle Abram had found his hat. Not, how-ever, for all or any of these, was she chiefly famous.Such lightning-like motion was in her fingers as noother fingers ever possessed, and therefore it was, thatin cotton picking time, Patsey was queen of the field.She had a -genial and pleasant temper, and wasfaithful and obedient. Naturally, she was a joyous

　　TREATMENT OF PATSET. 189creature, a laughing, light-hearted girl, rejoicing inthe mere sense of existence. Yet Patsey wept oftener,and suffered more, than any of her companions.She had heen literally excoriated. Her back borethe scars of a thousand stripes; not because she wasbackward in her work, nor because she was of an un-mindful and rebellious spirit, but because it had fallento her lot to be the slave of a licentious master and ajealous mistress. She shrank before the lustful eye ofthe one, and was in danger even of her life at thehands of the other, and between the two, she wasindeed accursed. In the great house, for days together,there were high and angry words, poutings andestrangement, whereof she was the innocent cause.Nothing delighted the mistress so much as to see hersuffer, and more than once, when Epps had refused tosell her, has she tempted me with bribes to put hersecretly to death, and bury her body in some lonelyplace in the margin of the swamp. Gladly wouldPatsey have appeased this unforgiving spirit, if it hadbeen in her power, but not like Joseph, dared shoescape from Master Epps, leaving her garment in hishand. Patsey walked under a cloud. If she- uttereda word in opposition to her master's will, the lash wasresorted to at once, to bring her to subjection ; if shewas not watchful when about her cabin, or whenwalking in the yard, a billet of wood, or a brokenbottle perhaps, hurled from her mistress' hand, wouldsmite her unexpectedly in the face. The enslaved vic-tim of lust and hate, Patsey had no comfort of her life.

　　190 TWELVE YEAES A SLAVE.These were my companions and fellow-slaves, withwhom I was accustomed to be driven to the field, andwith whom it has been my lot to dwell for ten yearsin the log cabins of Edwin Epps. They, if living, areyet toiling on the banks of Bayou Boeuf, never des-tined to breathe, as I now do, the blessed air of liberty,nor to shake oif the heavy shackles that enthrallthem, until they shall lie down forever in the dust.