St. Catharines
Christopher Nichols
I made my escape from slavery in Virginia; do n’t know my age, suppose some forty odd. I belonged to but one man until after I was married. I tried to do my work. The lash was used in season and out of season. The whip was cracking from Monday morning to Saturday night. We were up before day—when the rooster crowed, the horn blowed. By the time one could see his hand before him, he was at work, and we were kept at work until late. If a man ran away after he had been whipped, the rest of us were put on half allowance till he came back, and the runaway must make up his lost time by working Sundays.
If I were to sit here until to-morrow morning, I could n’t tell you half as bad as I have been used since I can remember.
One Sunday, when I was about nineteen years old, the white children were playing in the stack-yard. The boys (slaves) had hooked a sheep, and these children found the hide in the straw. Master had all the slaves brought up Sunday evening. The overseer came home half drunk—worse than if sober. They whipped one hard; I and another thought of running,—but I was innocent, and thought they would n’t whip me. I went up and pulled off my jacket,—they stripped me and whipped me until I fainted. Then they carried me to the kitchen and sent for the doctor. I was out of my head two or three days: the master told the boys I was playing ‘possum. They never found out who took the sheep. They whipped four—the rest dodged.
At about twenty-one or twenty-two, I went to live with a man who had married my master’s daughter. The first word he ever said to me was, “Where’s the key to the corn-house?” “I do n’t know, Sir.” Said he, “Has the horse been fed?” “Yes, Sir.” “Has he had enough?” “I do n’t know, Sir.” “Do you think you are talking to a poor man, or to a nigger, like yourself?” He then seized a stake from the fence, and said if I talked so to him any more, he would “lay me sprawling.”
After he found that by my old master’s will, I belonged to him, he began to beat me. He came down to the mill one day,—I tended a mill—I was picking,—I had stopped to fix the spindle; he thought me asleep, and hit me one or two blows. Then he went out and cut some hickory sticks. He came to the door and called me. I came to him with the pick in my hand. “Lay that down.” I did so. While he was looking for a place to tie me up, I went by him and ran into the woods. At night I went back for my clothes; then, with two more boys, I started for the free States. We did not know where they were, but went to try to find them. We crossed the Potomac and hunted round and round and round. Some one showed us the way to Washington; but we missed of it, and wandered all night; then we found ourselves where we set out. In a week’s time, we got to Washington—then to Scatterway, and were caught. They took us to Marlborough jail, and we were kept there two days and nights. Then the masters took us out handcuffed together. On the next morning, we went to Alexandria and were put in jail. Then the traders came from Washington to examine us. One of the boys was sold to go south. Jarvis and I were chained together, and our hands were together. On our way back, we encountered Mr. S—, M—’s father, who seized a large club and hit Jarvis over the head with it, drawing blood terribly. Young M—stopped him. Then they took us to Mr. S—’s house, and chained us to different trees, where we stayed all day. Young M—came to me and slung my leg up into the tree so that I fell on my back. Said I, “Master M—, you hurt me.” Said he, “I want to hurt you, because you give meal to my boys.”
By and by Mr. M—W—came and took me home, chained to a horse. My master I saw coming with a cobbing-board full of auger holes, and somebody was cutting switches. Said he, “How are you? how are you? this country is too hot for you, is n’t it? You were making for the north where it’s cool.” Then he told Mr. W—to take me to the barn, in the late afternoon, and said he would get it out of me. He used the cobbing-board until he burst it to pieces, then a boy came with an arm full of switches. The boy was going, but he stopped the boy to see it done, so that he might tell the others. Then he began to whip me, and he whipped, and he whipped, and he whipped, and he whipped; I was in hopes the switches would break up, but it seemed as if one would last all the evening. When he had done whipping it was dark, and I was hardly able to get to the house. His wife sent me down a piece of mutton suet to grease my back. My shirt was as if it had been dipped in a barrel of blood. The next day, I had to go and stand before the drum of the wheat machine, and tend the machine all day. At night I was compelled to stack straw. I could not get along with my master at all. He was all the time hitting or whipping me—I was “a bad example for the boys,” he said, “but he ‘d get it out of me yet.” One day he found some wheat in the mill, which I was going to grind for the boys. Then he took me to the carriage-house and tied me to the carriage wheel, and whipped me as badly as when I had run away. After the whipping, he made a boy take spirits of turpentine and rub on my back. Next day, every one who saw me—the white people who came to the mill—said it was a shame to use anybody in that way. This was in the summer of 1854.
I always had it in my mind, that if I could get to a free State, I should be better off than where I was. But I had been told by N—W—that I could not get away: there were guards at every corner of the street in Washington, etc.
My master used to allow us one piece of meat a day, and a peck and a half of corn meal a week.
He whipped a woman before I came away, Wm. Dunkan’s wife, who had a young child. He laid her on a bench, and threw her clothes up over her head, and made a boy and a woman hold her. He whipped her with a cobbing-board until she fainted,—she was so bad that they sent for Dr. W—; but he was so angry at what my master had done, that he would not go. A week or two after, I saw the woman about again.
Another case on the same farm was that of Mary Montgomery, who had a small child at her breast. She had been sick for two or three days, but went out to get some ice for her master. The foreman told her to go back to the house, as she was too sick to work. She went back, and then master drove her out to go again for ice. Then she took to the woods, and he has not seen her since. It was said, that she got to the North, but nobody knew. Her child was taken care of by another woman, who tried to bring it up by hand, but it died.
My master used me so, that I was determined to start off, live or die. I made up my mind that I would rather die than be taken. I took no pistol—no knife—nothing but a stick to walk with. I came away with Isaac Williams and Henry Banks. When I found that Isaac was going, I determined to start, as I thought it would be a poor chance for me, if he got off before I did.
I left a wife and three children, and three grand-children,—I never expect to see them again in this world—never.
I have seen parents and children, husbands and wives, separated by sale.
It seems not right for slavery to be. I do not think it does any good to the colored men. I feel no inclination to go back—I do n’t want to cross the line. All the time I was in slavery, I lived in dead dread and fear. If I slept it was in dread—and in the morning it was dread—dread, night and day. It seems to me I must have been dead by this time, if I had not got away. My master was killing me as fast as he could when I got away.