Gosfield

Eli Johnson

In slavery, we are goods and chattels, and have no surname: but slaves generally take their master’s name.

I was born and raised in old Virginia, Orange Co., till I was thirty. My treatment there was only middling. After thirty, I was sold to a trader, and carried to Natchez. I was then sold at auction for $1,200,—put on a cotton farm, and allowed a peck of corn a week and three pounds meat,—was called sometimes an hour to day, sometimes less,—must be on hand else got the whip. If there was deemed sufficient cause, if there was any word, or the least thing they did not like, the man was staked down for four hundred lashes. I saw a man staked down and whipped one Sunday, until the blood lay in a pool on each side of him. It was through the fear of the Lord, that I endured the persecution put upon me,—I suffered a great deal there,—and but for the fear of the Lord and the worth of my own soul, I should have murdered the overseer. When I first went it was a warm climate: I had to drink the muddy water of the river, which made me sick and weakened me down. Every day I was threatened with seven hundred and fifty lashes, if I complained of being sick. I had to keep on: being of strong constitution I began to mend, and endured all they put on me for six years.

My wife was with me, and was made to suffer worse than I. I was in constant fear of the lash, but made out to plead off, although the whipping seemed to be sometimes, just to keep their hand in. Many men and women were punished with a paddle and whip. I had to make paddles with twelve holes in them. A block lay in the cotton yard over which they were placed to be paddled. I saw them take one man and paddle him, then they struck him with a handsaw, then with a bull whip: then they ordered me to lock the biggest log chain I could find on the place around his neck with the biggest lock, and keep him at my house until next morning. I went out in the field leaving him at the house, not believing him able to get out. The overseer gave me so many minutes to go and get him. I went back for him, and met him hobbling along with the chain. He had to work at chopping wood. Three weeks he wore the chain: then myself and another bailed him, and the chain was taken off: if he had run away, we were to wear the chain. Three days after the whipping, he was allowed no food. We gave him some of ours, but did not dare let it be known.

The whipping was because he ran away. He ran away, because the overseer appropriated his wife. The man threatened to do something about it,—the overseer threatened him with a whipping,—then he ran away. I know all this,—I saw the treatment with my own eyes. E—was the overseer’s name,—he stayed there three years.

While under E—, I was put on short allowance of food and made to work on the Sabbath, etc. I was then a professor and used to hold prayer-meetings Saturday night. One Saturday night, during meeting, E—sent for me. I went to him. He told me to stay until he had eaten breakfast next morning, then he would stake me down and give me five hundred lashes; for he would n’t have such things as meetings carried on. I managed to slip off, and went to the cabins. I went back to him next morning while he was at breakfast: his wife was facing me, he was back to me. She pointed at me, and said, “there he is.” I clapped my hands together and said, “In the name of God why is it, that I can’t after working hard all the week, have a meeting on Saturday evening? I am sent for to receive five hundred lashes for trying to serve God. I’ll suffer the flesh to be dragged off my bones, until my bones stare my enemy in the face, for the sake of my blessed Redeemer.” He did not come to me,—he appeared startled at my appearance. He went into the house from the porch, got his gun and walked away. After he had gone I walked away.

I think the reason he did not punish me was, that once when it got to me that he said he would whip me, and his wife wished he would, I had said,—”If he whips me, I’ll put him and his wife in hot water.” I knew that he had been intimate with some of the slave women. He told me at one time to leave my cabin door, so he could get in, in the night, on account of one of two girls that were there. I left the door on the latch, and warned the girl. He came—but she struggled against him, got away, and came to the bed where were I and my wife. His wife heard what I said about “hot water,” and sent for me, making an excuse about a partition. She placed a chair near me, “Well, Eli,” she says, “what’s that you was going to put me and my husband in hot water for?” I tried to turn it off. She insisted, and at last got mad because I would n’t tell her, and said she’d make him make me tell. He made her believe, that he would make me tell, and he told me that he would n’t for his right arm have his wife know. So I knew what grounds I stood on, and kept clear of the lash.

The next overseer was S—. He kicked a woman’s eye out, the first day he came there. He asked her a question in the gin-house, which she did not understand. She said “No, Sir,” at a venture. The answer was wrong—she was stooping down, and he kicked her face. It put her eye out. He went to the house for something to put on it. She cried out aloud. Said he, “Shut up! I’ve killed a great many better looking niggers than you, and thrown ’em in the bayou.” This I heard him say myself. Nothing was done about the loss of the eye: the woman’s husband dared say nothing about it. In three weeks’ time, S—whipped three women and nine men. The talk in the quarters was among some to put him to death; others were afraid to try it. He left before the month was up; another named W—was then overseer.

He went on rather roughly. There had been an underhanded business done in selling cattle and wood off the place, from which master had no benefit, in consequence of which, I was privately made a sort of watchman over the place.

After W—, the next overseer, was my master’s brother. At the end of two years, they fell out about settling—the master said he was broke: they drew knives, threatening each other, but did not use them. Master said he would take the best slaves off the place, and then sell the place, with the sorriest ones on it. Then he said he could n’t pay his brother in money, but his brother might take it in slaves. The brother picked out myself, wife, and two children and two others, which was too many. Master objected—then they drew the knives. Master gave him me, wife, and children. At night, fearing he might take the others, he took them himself, to his upper place, where he lived above Natchez.

My new master removed us to Kentucky. We were all the slaves he had. We raised tobacco, oats, etc. I considered my treatment worse than at any other place. They gave me great encouragement to come with them, promising me well. Among other things, he promised to pay me $10.25, earned by me at overwork chopping. After I got to Kentucky, I wanted a hat. I went and picked one out, and told the shopman I’d get the money of my master. I sent his son in to ask for it. He sent me word that if I mentioned money again, or told any person that he owed it, he would give me five hundred lashes! A while after, I asked him to give me a little money. “What do you want of money?” “To buy me a hat.” “Is n’t that hat good enough?” “It don’t turn the water, and I see the colored people wearing respectable hats, and I want one to wear to meeting.” He said “go to such a place, get a wool hat, and have it charged to me.” I went and got it,—it was a poor thing, and cost one dollar. I did what he wanted as well as I could, to avoid punishment. I staid with him three years.

One day he had ordered me to draw some water on a sled: then he called me into the field. I stooped down to unloose a chain,—he hurried up to me with an axe in his hand. He says, “When I want you for one thing, you are sure to do another.” I answered, “I’ve got to work till I die, and had as lief work at one thing as another.” He threatened me with the axe—I did n’t dodge. Then he threatened me that he would give me the five hundred lashes before many days. I thought he might finally undertake it, and that I’d better be off. I received assistance from kind friends, and reached Canada without difficulty about five years ago. I have had a serious time in my life.

I felt so thankful on reaching a land of freedom, that I could n’t express myself. When I look back at what I endured, it seems as if I had entered a Paradise. I can here sing and pray with none to molest me. I am a member of the Baptist Church, and endeavor to live a Christian life.

I rent a piece of land, and make out to live. My family are sickly, so that I have not been able to purchase land. But I am not discouraged, and intend to work on while I have health and strength, and to live such a life as I should wish when I come to die.

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This work (The Refugee: or the Narratives of Fugitive Slaves in Canada by Benjamin Drew) is free of known copyright restrictions.