xt7msb3wt921 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7msb3wt921/data/mets.xml Clark, Lewis Garrard, 1812-1897. 1845  books b92-149-29579270 English D.H. Ela, printer, : Boston : Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Slavery Kentucky.Lovejoy, J. C. Narrative of the sufferings of Lewis Clarke  : during a captivity of more than twenty-five years, among the Algerines of Kentucky, one of the so called Christian states of North America / dictated by himself. text Narrative of the sufferings of Lewis Clarke  : during a captivity of more than twenty-five years, among the Algerines of Kentucky, one of the so called Christian states of North America / dictated by himself. 1845 2002 true xt7msb3wt921 section xt7msb3wt921 



   A AlIRITIIE
       OF THE SUFFERINGS OF

LBWIS CLARKE,
          DURING A
     CAPTIVITY
  OF MORE THAN TWENTY-FIVE YEARS
         AMONG THE



ALGERINES OF KENTUCKY.


  




         N A R R A T I V E


                OF THE



SUFFERINGS OF LEWIS CLARKE,



          DURING A


      C A P T I V I T Y


OF MORE THAN TWENTY-FIVE YEARS,

           AMONG THE


  ALGERINES OF KENTUCKY,



         ONE OF THE SO CALLED


CHRISTIAN STATES OF NORTH AMERICA.



       DICTATED BY HIMSELF.




          BOSTON:
     DAVID H. ELA, PRINTER,
  AT THE STONE STEPS, 37 CORNHILL.
              1845.

 


































       Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1845,
                     BY LEWIS CLARKE,
In ithe Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.

 




                   PRE F ACE.






   I FIRST became acquainted with LEWIS CLARKE in December,
1842. I well remember the deep impression made upon my
mind on hearing his Narrative from his own lips. It gave me a
new and more vivid impression of the wrongs of Slavery than I
had ever before felt. Evidently a person of good native talents
and of deep sensibilities. such a mind had been under the dark
cloud of slavery for more than twenty-five years. Letters, read-
ing, all the modes of thought awakened by them, had been utterly
hid from his eyes; and yet his mind had evidently been active,
and trains of thought were flowing through it, which he was ut-
terly unable to express. I well remember too the wave on wave
of deep feeling excited in an audience of more than a thousand
persons, at Hallowell, Me., as they listened to his story and look-
ed upon his energetic and manly countenance, and wondered if
the dark cloud of slavery could cover up - hide from the world,
and degrade to the condition of brutes, such immortal minds.
His story, there and wherever since told, has aroused the most
utter abhorrence of the Slave System.
             1t

 




PREFACE.



   For the two last years, I have had the most ample opportunity
of becoming acquainted with Mr. Clarke. He has made this
place his home, when not engaged in giving to public audiences
the story of his sufferings, and the sufferings of his fellow slaves.
Soon after he came to Ohio, by the faithful instruction of pious
friends, he was led, as he believes, to see himself a sinner before
God, and to seek pardon and forgiveness through the precious
blood of the Lamb. He has ever manifested an ardent thirst for
religious, as well as for other kinds of knowledge. In the opin-
ion of all those best acquainted with him, he has maintained the
character of a sincere Christian. That he is what he professes
to be, -a slave escaped from the grasp of avarice and power, -
there is not the least shadow of doubt. His narrative bears the
most conclusive internal evidence of its truth. Persons of dis-
criminating minds have heard it repeatedly, under a great variety
of circumstances, and the story, in all substantial respects, has
been always the same. He has been repeatedly recognized in
the Free States by persons who knew him in Kentucky, when a
slave. During the summer of 1844, Cassius M. Clay visited
Boston, and on seeing Milton Clarke, recognized him as one of
the Clarke family, well known to him in Kentucky. Indeed,
nothing can be more surely established than the fact that Lewis
and Milton Clarke are no impostors. For three years they have
been engaged in telling their story in seven or eight different
States, and no one has appeared to make an attempt to contra-
dict them. The capture of Milton in Ohio, by the kidnappers,
as a slave, makes assurance doubly strong. Wherever they
have told their story, large audiences have collected, and every-



Vi

 




                        PREFACE.                           Vii

where they have been listened to with great interest and satis-
faction.
  Cyrus is fully equal to either of the brothers in sprightliness of
mind - is withal a great wit, and would make an admirable lec-
turer, but for an unfortunate impediment in his speech. They
all feel deeply the wrongs they have suffered, and are by no
means forgetful of their brethren in bonds. When Lewis first
came to this place, he was frequently noticed in silent and deep
meditation. On being asked what he was thinking of, he would
reply, " 0, of the poor slaves! Here I am free, and they suffer-
ing so much." Bitter tears are often seen coursing down his
manly cheeks, as he recurs to the scenes of his early suffering.
Many persons, who have heard him lecture, have expressed a
strong desire that his story might he recorded in a connected
form. He has therefore concluded to have it printed. He was
anxious to add facts from other witnesses, and some appeals
from other hearts, if by any means he might awaken more hearts
to feel for his downtrodden brethren. Nothing seems to grieve
him to the heart like finding a minister of the Gospel, or a pro-
fessed Christian, indifferent to the condition of the slave. As to
doing much for the instruction of the minds of the slaves, or for
the salvation of their souls, till they are EMANCIPATED, restored
to the rights of men, in his opinion it is utterly impossible.
  When the master, or his representative, the man who justifies
slaveholding, comes with the whip in one hand and the Bible in
the other, the slave says, at least in his heart, lay down one or
the other. Either make the tree good and the fruit good, or
else both corrupt together. Slaves do not believe that THE RE-

 




Viii                    PREFACE.

LIGION which is from God, bears whips and chains. They ask
emphatically concerning their FATHER in Heaven,

              " Has Hi bid you buy and sell us,
              Speaking from his throne, the sky."

  For the facts contained in the following Narrative, Mr. Clarke
is of course alone responsible. Yet having had the most ample
opportunities for testing his accuracy, I do not hesitate to say,
that I have not a shadow of doubt, but in all material points every
word is true. Much of it is in his own language, and all of it
according to his own dictation.
                                           J. C. LOVEJOY.
  Cambridgeport, April, 1845.


 




      NARRATIVE OF LEWIS CLARKE.





  I wAs born in March, as near as I can ascertain, in
the year 1815, in Madison County, Kentucky, about seven
miles from Richmond, upon the plantation of my grand-
father, Samuel Campbell. He was considered a very re-
spectable man among his fellow robbers-the slaveholders.
It did not render him less honorable in their eyes, that he
took to his bed Mary, his slave, perhaps half white, by
whom he had one daughter, - LETITIA CAMPBELL. This
was before his marriage.
  My Father was from "beyond the flood "-from Scot-
land, and by trade a weaver. He had been married in
his own country, and lost his wife, who left to him, as I
have been told, two sons. He came to this country in
time to be in the earliest scenes of the American Revolu-
tion. He was at the Battle of Bunker Hill, and continued
in the army to the close of the war. About the year
1800, or before, he came to Kentucky, and married Miss
Letitia Campbell, then held as a slave by her dear and af-
fectionate father. My father died, as near as I can recol-
lect, when I was about ten or twelve years of age. He
had received a wound in the war which made him lame as

 



NARRATIVE OF



long as he lived. I have often heard him tell of Scotland,
sing the merry songs of his native land, and long to see its
hills once more.
  Mr. Campbell promised my father that his daughter
Letitia should be made free in his will. It was with this
promise that he married her. And I have no doubt that Mr.
Campbell was as good as his word, and that by his will,
my mother and her nine children were made free. But ten
persons in one family, each worth three hundred dollars,
are not easily set free among those accustomed to live by
continued robbery. We did not, therefore, by an instru-
ment from the hand of the dead, escape the avaricious
grab of the slaveholder. It is the common belief that the
will was destroyed by the heirs of Mr. Campbell.
  The night in which I was born, I have been told, was
dark and terrible, black as the night for which Job prayed,
when he besought the clouds to pitch their tent round
about the place of his birth; and my life of slavery was
but too exactly prefigured by the stormy elements that
hovered over the first hour of my being. It was with
great difficulty that any one could be urged out for a ne-
cessary attendant for my mother. At length one of the
sons of Mr. Campbell, William, by the promise from his
mother of the child that should be born, was induced to
make an effort to obtain the necessary assistance. By
going five or six miles he obtained a female professor of
the couch.
  William Campbell, by virtue of this title, always
claimed me as his property. And well would it have
been for me, if this claim had been regarded. At the age
of six or seven years I fell into the hands of his sister,
Mrs. Betsey Banton, whose character will be best known



10

 



LEWIS CLARKE.



when I have told the horrid wrongs which she heaped
upon me for ten years. If there are any 8he spirits that
come up from hell, and take possession of one part of
mankind, I am sure she is one of that sort. I was con-
signed to her under the following circumstances: When
she was married, there was given her, as part of her
dower, as is common among the Algerines of Kentucky,
a girt by the name of Ruth, about fourteen or fifteen
years old. In a short time Ruth was dejected and injured,
by beating and abuse of different kinds, so that she was
sold for a half-fool to the more tender mercies of the sugar
planter in Louisiana. The amiable Mrs. Betsey obtained
then, on loan from her parents, another slave named
Phillis. In six months she had suffered so severely under
the hand of this monster woman, that she made an at-
tempt to kill herself, and was taken home by the parents of
Mrs. Banton. This produced a regular slave-holding family
brawl -a regular war of four years, between the mild
and peaceable Mrs. B. and her own parents. These wars
are very common among the Algerines in Kentucky; in-
deed, slave-holders have not arrived at that degree of civi-
lization that enables them to live in tolerable peace, though
united by the nearest family ties. In them is fulfilled
what I have heard read in the Bible: The father is
against the son, and the daughter-in-law against the
mother-in-law, and their foes are of their own household.
Some of the slaveholders may have a wide house; but
one of the cat-handed, snake-eyed, brawling women,
which slavery produces, can fill it from cellar to garret. I
have heard every place I could get into any way, ring with
their screech-owl voices. Of all the animals on the face
of this earth, I am most afraid of a real mad, passionate,



I1I

 



NARRATIVE OF



raving, slaveholding woman. Some body told me once,
that Edmund Burke declared, that the natives of India
fled to the jungles, among tigers and lions, to escape the
more barbarous cruelty of Warren Hastings. I am sure I
would sooner lie down to sleep by the side of tigers, than
near a raging-mad slave woman. But I must go back to
sweet Mrs. Banton. I have been describing her in the
abstract; -I will give a full-grown portrait of her, right
away. For four years after the trouble about Phillis, she
never came near her father's house. At the end of this
period another of the amiable sisters was to be married,
and sister Betsey could not repress the tide of curiosity,
urging her to be present at the nuptial ceremonies. Be-
side, she had another motive. Either shrewdly suspecting
that she might deserve less than any member of the fam-
ily, or that some ungrounded partiality would be mani-
fested toward her sister, she determined at all hazards to be
present, and see that the scales which weighed out the
children of the plantation should be held with even hand.
The wedding day was appointed - the sons and daughters
of this joyful occasion were gathered together, and then
came also the fair-faced, but black-hearted Mrs. B. Satan
among the sons of God was never less welcome, than this
fury among her kindred. They all knew what she came
for, -to make mischief if possible. "Well now, if there
aint Bets," exclaimed the old lady.  The father was
moody and silent, knowing that she inherited largely
of the disposition of her mother; but he had experienced
too many of her retorts of courtesy to say as much, for
dear experience had taught him the discretion of silence.
The brothers smiled at the prospect of fun and frolick, the
sisters trembled for fear, and word flew round among the



12

 



LEWIS CLARKE.



slaves, " The old she-bear has come home! look out! look
out! "
  The wedding went forward. Polly, a very good sort of
a girl to be raised in that region, was married, and re--
ceived, as the first installment of her dower, a girl and a
boy. Now was the time for Mrs. Banton, sweet good
Mrs. Banton. " Poll has a girl and a boy, and I only had
that fool of a girl; I reckon if I go home without a boy
too, this house wont be left standing."
  This was said, too, while the sugar of the wedding cake
was yet melting upon her tongue; how the bitter words
would flow when the guests had retired, all began to
imagine. To arrest this whirlwind of rising passion, her
mother promised any boy upon the plantation, to be taken
home on her return. Now my evil star was right in the
top of the sky. Every boy was ordered in, to pass before
this female sorceress, that she might select a victim for her
unprovoked malice, and on whom to pour the vials of her
wrath for years. I was that unlucky fellow. Mr. Camp-
bell, my grandfather, objected, because it would divide a
family, and offered her Moses, whose father and mother
had been sold South. Mrs. Campbell put in for William's
claim, dated ante-natum-before I was born; but objec-
tions and claims of every kind were swept away by the
wild passion and shrill-toned voice of Mrs. B. Me she
would have, and none else. Mr. Campbell went out to
hunt and drive away bad thoughts -the old lady became
quiet, for she was sure none of her blood run in my veins,
and if there was any of her husband's there, it was no
fault of hers. I was too young, only seven years of age.
to understand what was going on. But my poor and af-
fectionate mother understood and appreciated it all. When
                 2



13

 



NARRATIVE OF



she left the kitchen of the Mansion House, where she was
employed as cook, and came home to her own little cot-
tage, the tear of anguish was in her eye, and the image of
sorrow upon every feature of her face. She knew the fe-
male Nero, whose rod was now to be over me. That night
sleep departed from her eyes; with the youngest child clasp-
ed firmly to her bosom, she spent the night in walking the
floor, coming ever and anon to lift up the clothes and look
at me and my poor brother who lay sleeping together.
Sleeping, I said; brother slept, but not I. I saw my mother
when she first came to me; and I could not sleep. The
vision of that night, its deep, ineffaceable impression is now
before my mind with all the distinctness of yesterday. In
the morning I was put into the carriage with Mrs. B. and
her children, and my weary pilgrimage of suffering was
fairly begun. It was her business on the road for about
twenty five or thirty miles to initiate her children into the
art of tormenting their new victim. I was seated upon the
bottom of the carriage, and these little imps were employed
in pinching me, pulling my ears and hair, and they were
stirred up by their mother like a litter of young wolves to
torment me in every way possible. In the mean time I
was compelled by the old she wolf, to call them " Master,"
"d Mistress," and bow to them and obey them at the first
call.
  During that day, I had indeed no very agreeable fore-
boding of the torments to come; but sad as were my an-
ticipations, the reality was infinitely beyond them. Infinitely
more bitter than death were the cruelties I experienced
at the hand of this merciless woman. Save from one or
two slaves on the plantation, during my ten years of cap-
tivity here, I scarcely heard a kind word, or saw a smile



14

 



LEWIS CLARKE.



toward me from any living being. And now that I am
where people look kind and act kindly toward me, it
seems like a dream. I hardly seem to be in the same
world that I was then. When I first got into the free
States and saw every body look like they loved one
another, sure enough I thought this must be the " Heaven "
of LOVE I had heard something about. But I must go
back to what I suffered from that wicked woman. It is
hard work to keep the mind upon it; I hate to think it
over - but I must tell it - the world must know what is
done in Kentucky. I cannot, however, tell all the ways,
by which she tormented me, I can only give a few instan-
ces of my suffering as specimens of the whole. A book of
a thousand pages would not be large enough to tell of all
the tears I shed, and the sufferings endured in THAT TEN
YEARS OF PURGATORY.
  A very trivial offence was sufficient to call forth a great
burst of indignation from this woman of ungoverned pas-
sions. In my simplicity, I put my lips to the same vessel
and drank out of it from which her children were accus-
tomed to drink. She expressed her utter abhorrence of
such an act, by throwing my head violently back, and
dashing into my face two dippers of water. The shower
of water was followed by a heavier shower of kick8 - yes,
delicate reader, this lady did not hesitate to kick, as well
as cuff in a very plentiful manner -but the words bitter
and cutting that followed were like a storm of hail upon
my young heart. "1 She would teach me better manners
than that -she would let me know I was to be brought up
to her hand -she would have one slave that knew his
place; if I wanted water, go to the spring, and not drink
there in the house." This was new times for me -for



15

 



NARRATIVE OF



some days I was completely benumbed with my sorrow. I
could neither eat nor sleep. If there is any human being
on earth, who has been so blessed as never to have tasted
the cup of sorrow, and therefore is unable to conceive of
8uffering, if there be one so lost to all feeling as even to
say that the slaves do not suffer, whenfamilies are sep-
arated, let such an one go to the ragged quilt which was
my couch and pillow and stand there night after night, for
long weary hours, and see the bitter tears streaming down
the face of that more than orphan boy, while with half sup-
pressed sighs and sobs, he calls again and again upon
his absent mother.

     "Say, Mother, wast thou conscious of the tears I shed,-
     Hovered thy spirit o'er thy sorrowing son 
     Wretch even then! Life's journey just begun.'

Let him stand by that couch of bitter sorrow through the
terribly lonely night, and then wring out the wet end of
those rags, and see how many tears yet remain, after the
burning temples had absorbed all they could. He will not
doubt, he cannot doubt but the slave has feeling. But I
find myself running away again from Mrs. Banton -and I
do n't much wonder neither.
  There were several children in the family, and my first
main business was to wait upon them. Another young
slave and myself have often been compelled to sit up by
turns all night, to rock the cradle of a little, peevish scion
of slavery. If the cradle was stopped, the moment they
awoke a dolorous cry was sent forth to mother or father,
that Lewis had gone to sleep. The reply to this call,
would be a direction from the mother, for these petty ty-
rants to get up and take the whip, and give the good-for-



16

 



LEWIS CLARKE.



nothing scoundrel a smart whipping. This was the mid-
night pastime of a child ten or twelve years old. What
might you expect of the future man 
   There were four house-slaves in this family, including
myself, and though we had not, in all respects, so hard
work as the field hands, yet in many things our condition
was much worse. We were constantly exposed to the
whims and passions of every member of the family; from
the least to the greatest their anger was wreaked upon us.
Nor was our life an easy one, in the hours of our toil or in
the amount of labor performed. We were always required
to sit up until all the family had retired; then we must be
up at early dawn in summer, and before day in winter.
If we failed, through weariness or for any other reason, to
appear at the first morning summons, we were sure to have
our hearing quickened by a severe chastisement. Such
horror has seized me, lest I might not hear the first shrill
call, that I have often in dreams fancied I heard that un-
welcome call, and have leaped from my couch and walked
through the house and out of it before I awoke. I have
gone and called the other slaves, in my sleep, and asked
them if they did not hear master call. Never, while I
live, will the remembrance of those long, bitter nights of
fear pass from my mind.
  But I want to give you a few specimens of the abuse
which I received. During the ten years that I lived with
Mrs. Banton, I do not think there were as many days, when
she was at home, that I, or some other slave, did not re-
ceive some kind of beating or abuse at her hands. It
seemed as though she could not live nor sleep unless some
,poor back was smarting, some head beating with pain, or
some eye filled with tears, around her. Her tender mer-
             2



17

 



NARRATIVE OF



cies were indeed cruel. She brought up her children to
imitate her example. Two of them manifested some dis-
like to the cruelties taught them by their mother, but they
never stood high in favor with her; indeed, any thing
like humanity or kindness to a slave, was looked upon by
her as a great offence.
  Her instruments of torture were ordinarily the raw hide,
or a bunch of hickory-sprouts seasoned in the fire and tied
together. But if these were not at hand, nothing came
amiss. She could relish a beating with a chair, the broom,
tongs, shovel, shears, knife-handle, the heavy heel of her
slipper; her zeal was so active in these barbarous inflic-
tions, that her invention was wonderfully quick, and some
way of inflicting the requisite torture was soon found out.
  One instrument of torture is worthy of particular de-
scription. This was an ovk club, a foot and a half in
length and an inch and a half square. With this deli-
cate weapon she would beat us upon the hands and upon
the feet until they were blistered. This instrument was
carefully preserved for a period of four years. Every day,
for that time. I was compelled to see that hated tool of
cruelty lying in the chair by my side. The least degree of
delinquency either in not doing all the appointed work, or
in look or behavior, was visited with a beating from this
oak club. That club will always be a prominent object in
the picture of horrors of my life of more than twenty years
of bitter bondage.
  When about nine years old I was sent in the evening
to catch and kill a turkey. They were securely sleeping
in a tree -their accustomed resting place for the night.
I approached as cautiously as possible, selected the victim
1 was directed to catch, but just as I grasped him in my



is

 



LEWIS CLARKE.



hand, my foot slipped and he made his escape from the
tree and fled beyond my reach.   I returned with a
heavy heart to my mistress with the story of my misfortune.
She was enraged beyond measure. She determined at
once that I should have a whipping of the worst kind, and
she was bent upon adding all the aggravations possible.
Master had gone to bed drunk, and was now as fast asleep
as drunkards ever are. At any rate he was filling the
house with the noise of his snoring and with the perfume
of his breath. I was ordered to go and call him -wake
him up -and ask him to be kind enough to give me fifty
good smart lashes. To be whipped is bad enough -to
ask for it is worse - to ask a drunken man to whip
you is too bad. I would sooner have gone to a nest
of rattlesnakes, than to the bed of this drunkard. But go
I must. Softly I crept along, and gently shaking his arm,
said with a trembling voice, "Master, Master, Mistress
wants you to wake up." This did not go the extent of
her command, and in a great fury she called out -" What,
you wont ask him to whip you, will you " I then added
"1 Mistress wants you to give me fifty lashes." A bear at
the smell of a lamb, was never roused quicker. "c Yes,
yes, that I will; I'll give you such a whipping as you will
never want again." And sure enough so he did. He sprang
from the bed, seized me by the hair, lashed me with a hand-
ful of switches, threw me my whole length upon the floor,
beat, kicked and cuffed me worse than he would a dog, and
then threw me, with all his strength out of the door more
dead than alive. There I lay for a long time scarcely able
and not daring to move, till I could hear no sound of the
furies within, and then crept to my couch, longing for
death to put an end to my misery. I had no friend in the



19

 




NARRATIVE OF



world to whom I could utter one word of complaint, or to
whom I could look for protection.
  Mr. Banton owned a blacksmith shop in which he spent
some of his time, though he was not a very efficient hand
at the forge. One day Mistress told me to go over to the
shop and let Master give me a flogging. I knew the mode
of punishing there too well. I would rather die than go. The
poor fellow who worked in the shop, a very skilful workman,
neglected one day to pay over a half dollar that he had re-
ceived of a customer for a job of work. This was quite an
unpardonable offence. No right is more strictly maintain-
ed by slave holders, than the right they have to every cent
of the slave's wages. The slave kept fifty cents of his own
wages in his pocket one night. This came to the knowledge
of the Master. He called for the money and it was not
spent -it was handed to him; but there was the horrid ins-
tention of keeping it. The enraged Master put a handful
of nail rods into the fire, and when they were red hot took
them out, and cooled one after another of them in the
blood and flesh of the poor slave's back. I knew this was
the shop mode of punishment; I would not go, and Mr.
Banton came home, and his amiable lady told him the
story of my refusal; he broke forth in a great rage, and
gave me a most unmerciful beating, adding that if I had
come, he would have burned the hot nail rods into my back.
  Mrs. Banton, as is common among slave holding women,
seemed to hate and abuse me all the more, because I had
some of the blood of her father in my veins. There is no
slaves that are so badly abused, as those that are related to
some of the women -or the children of their own hus-
band; it seems as though they never could hate these quite
bad enough. My sisters were as white and good look-



20

 



LEWIS CLARKE.



ing as any of the young ladies in Kentucky. It hap-
pened once of a time, that a young man called at the
house of Mr. Campbell, to see a sister of Mrs. Banton.
Seeing one of my sisters in the house and pretty well dress-
ed, with a strong family look, he thought it was Miss
Campbell, and with that supposition addressed some con-
versation to her which he had intended for the private ear
of Miss C. The mistake was noised abroad and occasion-
ed some amusement to young people. Mrs. Banton heard,
it made her cauldron of wrath sizzling hot -every thing
that diverted and amused other people seemed to enrage
her. There are hot springs in Kentucky, she was just like
one of them, only chuckfull of boiling poison.
  She must wreak her vengeance for this innocent mis-
take of the young man, upon me. '; She would fix me so
that nobody should ever think I was white." Accordingly
in a burning hot day, she made me take off every rag of
clothes, go out into the garden and pick herbs for hours -
in order to burn me black. When I went out she threw
cold water on me so that the sun might take effect upon
me, when I came in she gave me a severe beating on my
blistered back.
  After I had lived with Mrs. B. three or four years I was
put to spinning hemp, flax and tow, on an old fashioned
foot wheel. There were four or five slaves at this busi-
ness a good part of the time. We were kept at our work
from daylight to dark in summer, from long before day
to nine or ten o'clock in the evening in winter. Mrs.
Banton for the most part was near or kept continually
passing in and out to see that each of us performed as
much work as she thought we ought to do. Being young
and sick at heart all the time, it was very hard work to go



21

 



NARRATIVE OF



through the day and evening and not suffer exceedingly
for want of more sleep. Very often too I was compelled
to work beyond the ordinary hour to finish the appointed
task of the day. Sometimes I found it impossible not to
drop asleep at the wheel.
  On these occasions Mrs. B. had her peculiar contrivan-
ces for keeping us awake. She would sometimes sit by
the hour with a dipper of vinegar and salt, and throw it in
my eyes to keep them open. My hair was pulled till
there was no longer any pain from that source. And I
can now 8uffer my8elf to be lifted by the hair of the head,
without experiencing the least pain.
  She very often kept me from getting water to satisfy my
thirst, and in one instance kept me for two entire days
without a particle of food.
  But all my severe labor, bitter and cruel punishments for
these ten years of captivity with this worse than Arab fam-
ily, all these were as nothing to the sufferings experienced
by being separated from my mother, brothers and sisters;
the same things, with them near to sympathize with me, to
hear my story of sorrow, would have been comparatively
tolerable.
  They were distant only about thirty miles, and yet in
ten long, lonely years of childhood, I was only permitted to
see them three times.
  My mother occasionally found an opportunity to send
me some token of remembrance and affection, a sugar
plum or an apple, but I scarcely ever ate them - they were
laid up and handled and wept over till they wasted away
in my hand.
  My thoughts continually by day and my dreams by
night were of mother and home, and the horror experi-



22

 



LEWIS CLARKE.



enced in the morning, when I awoke and behold it was
a dream, is beyond the power of language to describe.
  But I am about to leave the den of robbers where I had
been so long imprisoned. I cannot however call the read-
er from his new and pleasant acquaintance with this
amiable pair, without giving a few more incidents of their
history. When this is done, and I have taken great pains,
as I shall do to put a copy of this portrait in the hands of
this Mrs. B., I shall bid her farewell. If she sees some-
thing awfully hideous in her picture as here presented, she
will be constrained to acknowledge it is true to nature -I
have given it from no malice, no feeling of resentment to-
ward her, but that the world may know what is done by
slavery, and that slave holders may know, that their crimes
will come to light. I hope and pray that Mrs. B. will repent
of her many and aggravated sins before it is too late.
  The scenes between her and her husband while I was with
them strongly illustrate the remark of Jefferson, that slavery
fosters the worst passions of the master. Scarcely a day
passed in which bitter words were not bandied from one to
the other. I have seen Mrs. B. with a large knife drawn
in her right hand, the other upon the collar of her husband,
swearing and threatening to cut him square in two.
They both drank freely, and swore like highwaymen. He
was a gambler and a counterfeiter. I have seen and hand-
led his moulds and his false coin. They fin