London
An Old Woman
My name is——, but you must not tell it, for I have children at the South, who would be eaten up if their masters knew. [The old lady detailed her history, but requested that no use should be made of it at the present time, excepting the part which follows.] . . . . . I am now eighty years old. Now I will tell you what I saw with my own eyes. I was called on to leave the room where was a dead body which they were going to strip for the grave. They said it would be a shame for me to remain. I said, “it is only a lifeless lump of clay, and I will stay and see with my own eyes what has been done, that I may say it is so, and that it is the truth.” I remained and saw the man’s body. It was a field hand, that had died under the lash. There were a few marks on the calves of his legs, a few on his breast where the whip had sometimes reached round. From his neck to the calves of his legs, the flesh was raw and bloody—completely cut up with two bull whips by the overseer and driver. It looked as sausage meat when you chop it. This man had children and grandchildren on the plantation. The man’s fault was,—when they finish work Saturday night, they bring home the maul and wedges, and put under the bed, to have them ready Monday morning. On Monday morning, he forgot the wedge, and started back to get it. The overseer tackled him—he resisted; the overseer called the driver; between them both they staked him down, and whipped him, until he fainted. They got some water in a shoe, and revived him,—he fainted again and revived—the third time he fainted, and they could not bring him to—he died. The overseer ran away. . . . . .