Joseph Sanford

At 10 years old I was moved to Kentucky, from Madison Co., Va. I remained in Kentucky till about 50

My father always advised me to be tractable, and get along with the white people in the best manner I could, and not be saucy. My mother always taught me to serve the Lord—which has ever been my aim; in which I am not the least tired, and am more anxious to go forward than ever. I could almost lay down my life for an abolitionist, for had it not been for them I should have been in slavery still. I believe the Lord will bless them. They have done every thing for me, and it makes my soul melt towards them.

I recollect that my master in Virginia was a monstrous bad man, but not half so bad as some others. I recollect that my mother wanted some salt to put into bread. My mistress, whenever we came down stairs, would search our pockets, to see if we had taken any thing. I went up to get some salt for my mother, and put half a pint in my pocket. My mistress said, “Let me feel your pocket!” I was afraid and ran. She called her son to catch me, as I had got something. He caught me and punished me very heavily with a cowhide—be beat me till I was out of breath.

In Kentucky, after a few years, the old man died,—I fell to one of his daughters—she hired me out to a brother-in-law. She was very good to me. I was hired out eight years to different persons. My mistress then died. She wanted me to be set free. Some of her kinsfolks said no,—that her brother had had bad luck, and she had better will me to him. She, being bad off, being sick, and not knowing how to carry her mind,—she did so: she willed me to her brother. He kept me seven years working on the farm. He was going to move into Campbell Co. I had a wife and four children. To leave me, he swapped me for another man. I lived with him about thirteen years. He was a very clever man. He was pretty rich—a sportsman, gambler, horse-racer, etc. He came to get broke. Then we were seized and sold. J—G—bought me. My master was now a most cruel man. There was a great many who had a high regard for me. I was respected by everybody—could be trusted, no matter with what. I used to do his marketing, going to Cincinnati, sell his butter, flax-seed, potatoes, apples, peaches, yarn—every thing—and took every copper home. I wanted to be free, but was afraid to undertake it; for I thought if I were taken and carried back, it would be a great disgrace to me, as I was always trusted. They thought no more of trusting me with fifty or sixty dollars in their stores than with half a dollar. I made enough raising tobacco nights and Sundays to come to more than seventy or eighty dollars a year. I had always been trusty, and had been foreman on the farm.

My master concluded that he must get an overseer. The overseer made the bargain, that he was not to interfere with the hands at all—what he wanted, he was to go to the overseer, who was to order the hands. The overseer carried on very well. He kept us moving from Monday morning until noon, Saturday—then we left work until Monday. This did not suit master nor mistress—it was a little too much privilege. If the fourth of July or a holiday was a Friday we had it, and Saturday afternoon as before. This troubled my master more than ever. He began to get very uneasy. I had not had a whipping for twenty years, and I said if they would put a hand on me, that I would n’t stop any longer. The overseer observed, that he had made a rule that three boys were to make a turn about, one one Sunday, and another the next, to see things correct on the place. I had a wife at home, and was there more or less every Sunday. I always wanted to go to meeting: sometimes I would stop after meeting, but was always at home early to do the business.

The next Sunday after, the overseer was not satisfied, because none of us had stayed at home. He called me down to the barn,—he had a cow-hide under his coat. He said, why did n’t you stay at home yesterday? I told him I wanted to go to church, and came home in the afternoon, after the church was out. “I told you to stay at home,” said he, “and whatever I tell you to do, you ‘ve got to do it.” The whipping he gave me did not hurt me so much as the scandal of it,—to whip so old a man as I was, and who had been so faithful a servant as I had been: I thought it unsufferable. This was about the time the year rolled round. The overseer’s time was out, and the master took his place. I do n’t suppose I could tell in two hours what I went through. . . . . In the spring about the 1st of May, he had the corn ground broken up completely. Planted the corn, three of us, fifty acres. After it came up we ploughed in it before holiday. I worked hard to try to please my master. He came home and asked me, “Where have you been ploughing?” “Such and such a piece.” “Is that all you ‘ve ploughed?” I told him it was. “Well,” says he, “I could plough more land in one day, than you and Dave both have ploughed.” It was as big a lie as ever was told, but I did not dare contradict him. The same day, he started away to buy up cattle. “Now,” says he, “I’ll tell you what you ‘ve got to do: you ‘ve got all this field to weed out, replant, chop all the big briers out, then go to the high-tower place, weed out that, chop out all the big briers and replant it: then go down to old Archy Rendle, and do the same there.” “I can’t do that,” says I, “to-day and to-morrow.” “I do n’t tell you to do it to-day and to-morrow,” said he, “you ‘ve to do it against I come back, if you do n’t I’ll thump you.” He told Ben and Dave to plough the same fields over with two furrows in a row. Monday was holiday; but he said, “you must go into Monday too:” taking away our holidays, which was never done to me before.

Finding that he was going to take away our holidays,—we all resolved to break and run away, hit or miss, live or die. There were thirteen of us started away in company,—not all from his place. One of the boys went down to Covington and made the arrangements. On a Sunday night we made our break, and when we got to Convington, it was daybreak; the garrison were up, beating their drums. God was on our side, or we should have been gone. We divided at the last toll-gate. Some going through the gate and myself and little Henry going round. We then found a skiff and oars, got in the skiff and crossed the Ohio into Cincinnati. I was so afraid I’d see somebody that knew me, I knew not what to do. When I got up on Main St., I saw a great black smoke coming out of the chimney of a steamboat as if she was coming right across,—I was certain she was coming after me. I met draymen who said, “Are you travelling?” “No, I’m going up on the hill, to see my brother.” My wife was nearly about to give out. “Joe,” said she, “do pray stop a few minutes and let us rest.” Said I, “I cannot stop,—if you want to stop you can, but I must go on. I caught her by the arm, and helped her on to the top of the hill. There I met a friend—

[Mr. Sandford’s narrative was here interrupted. The concluding portion of his fortunes is luckily supplied, however, in the narrative which follows.]