The Bondwoman's Narrative (23 page)

“You, Madam” he continued, after a short pause “should be the last to blame me for the turn affairs have taken. You were well
married. I approved of the match, and with me the happiness of your husband was something of a consideration. Something, I
say,
though nothing very important. When I talked of undeceiving him, it was only to try you. I had not the remotest intention
of so doing, and should not have done it had not your precipitate flight rendered such a course necessary. But I wished to
see you humbled at my feet as I had been at yours. I wished you feel yourself standing on the brink of a precipice, and know
that my hand could thrust you down to certain destruction, or pluck you back to safety.”

Absorbed she listened to him, and now and then her lips moved as if in replying, but they emitted no voice. It was clear that
she heard what he was saying that she repeated his words in her mind, and understood what they meant of themselves, but it
was not so evident that she attached meaning to them in any other connection, or felt their intimate relation to herself.

[“]But there is no use of lingering over the past. We have to do with the present now, and of the present I would speak. It
is not my intention to expose you in the public market for slaves, but rather to dispose of you in a private manner, as I
am now your legal owner. To[-]morrow morning you will receive the visit of a gentleman who proposes, if pleased with your
appearance, to become your purchaser. You must look your best, as he is extremely fastidious
in his taste.
You must—”

He was interrupted by a slight scream from his victim
and the sofa pillows and cushions
and the next moment I discovered that the sofa pillows were tinged with blood that bubbled from her lips. Quick as thought
I sprang to her side and supported her fainting head. Her excessive agitation had ruptured a blood-vessel, and she was fast
approaching that bourne where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest. Mr Trappe arose from his chair, and
came slowly forward, but started when he discovered her dying state. I half fancied that a deeper shadow passed over his countenance,
that his eye for an instant grew dim.

Was conscience thus late awakened, or was it a vision of pecuniary loss that flitted before him?

“Hannah, darling.”

The blood gushed afresh, staining my hands and clothes, as I stooped yet lower to embrace her, and kissed her pallid brow,
now damp with dews of death.

“The Lord bless and sustain you” she articulated whispering with the greatest difficulty.

“Don’t speak dearest, it will make you worse.”

A gleam of satisfaction shone over her face. There was a gasp, a struggle, a slight shiver of the limbs and she was free.

Arise, Oh Lord; Oh God, lift up thy hand forget not the humble.

D
AVID

My beloved companion, my idolised mistress I know not where they laid her. I know not whether it was consecrated ground, whether
the holy ritual of religion was celebrated over her remains, or whether she was borne away unceremoniously and with little
thought to an unblest tomb. The poor priveledge of weeping over her lifeless form was denied me, and as if to augment my misery
I was ordered back to the apartment we had inhabited together. Could it be that the events of the past few hours were not
a horrible dream? Every thing wore its old familiar face, the chairs, the table, the walls, the ceiling, the bed, the books
in which she had read, the embroidery we had wrought together, but I was alone. No kind compassionate countenance beamed upon
me, no sweet familiar voice greeted my ear, yet weeping, sighing, moaning in utter loneliness I felt in my heart that it was
better much better for her. She had escaped wo[e] and oppression, and insult, and degradation. Through death she had conquered
her enemy, and rose triumphant above his machinations, and I longed to follow her.
Life had no m
Doomed to slavery, hopeless unmitigated slavery, subjected to the power of one so cruel and unrelenting I
even prayed for
death, prayed that the great Creator in his infinite mercy would take me to himself. But my days of probation were not destined
to be thus soon and happily ended. I had yet other toils and trials to endure, other scenes of suffering and anguish to pass
through, no doubt for some wise purpose to be known in that world which solves the enigma of this.

After exhausting a sleepless night in vain efforts to compose my mind and become reconciled to the fate that probably awaited
me I arose in the morning really ill, nervous, and disheartened
with a despondency.
The old man servant came with my breakfast. It was good, but I could not eat. Mental anxiety precluded the gratification
of the senses, and I turned with loathing from the snowy bread and golden butter. It seemed like preparation for the sacrifice.

“You had much better eat” he said “as there’s a long journey before you to[-]day.[”]

“What kind of journey?” I inquired.

“Why you’re sold” he answered in evident surprise that I was unaware of such an important change in my affairs.

“To whom?”

“Why to Saddler, the slave-trader but maybe I hadn’t ought to tell you” he continued.

“Are you sure of this?”

“Surtin [certain] I am” and a grinning a sort of demoniacal smile he carried away the breakfast things.

In most cases there is something horrible in the idea of being bought and sold; it sent a thrill to my heart, a shiver through
my brain. For a moment I felt dizzy, but a moment only. I had experienced too much trouble and anxiety to be overwhelmed by
this. Then, too, I thought that though my perishable body was at their disposal, my soul was beyond their reach. They could
never quench my immortality, shake my abiding faith and confidence in
God, or destroy my living assurance in the efficacy
of the dying Saviour’s blood.

The old man, however, was mistaken. I was not sold,
though
though every thing was tending to that consummation. Towards noon I heard the roll of wheels and the tramp of horse’s feet,
evidently approaching the house. To these noises succeeded the echoing footsteps of a man, then there was a murmur of voices
in an adjoining apartment and presently the door communicating with mine was thrown open; while some one said audibly “There
she is.” I knew the voice to be Mr Trappe’s, but a stranger
a
answered “Why Trappe I thought you said that she was beautiful;
in my eye she’s excessively homely.”

“But you
haven’t seen the good
haven’t seen her good points yet” said Trappe “walk in and take a fair estimate of her attractions, they are neither small
nor few.”

Both men came in, while I shrunk into a distant corner.

“Nay: Hannah, that won’t do” said Trappe. “Come out here and show yourself. I don’t think Mr Saddler ever saw a better looking
wench. Come out I say.[”]

I obeyed reluctantly.

“Now I’ll tell you what” said Trappe. “You won’t find a nicer bit of woman’s flesh to be bought for that money in old Virginia.
Don’t you see what a foot she has, so dainty and delicate, and what an ankle. I don’t see how in conscience you can expect
me to take any less. Why you’d make a small fortune of her at that rate.”

“How you talk” said Saddler. “I’ve bought finer wenches often and often for less money. Then you see she’s skittish which
makes some difference. However as I’m making up a gang I wouldn’t mind having her. But I think you told me that you wanted
to dispose of two. Where is the other one?”

“Dead.”

Saddler received this announcement with a look of profound surprise and repeated “dead.”

“As a door nail” said Trappe.

“Why? how? what was the matter?” inquired Saddler. [“]If my memory serves me right you said that she was well only two or
three days ago.”

[“]She did not die of disease. The truth is she broke a blood vessel. I reckon it a clear loss of one or two thousand.”

“How unfortunate” said Saddler. “But these wenches will die. I have sometimes thought that accidents happened to them oftener
than to others. I have lost much in that way myself; probably ten thousand dollars wouldn’t cover the amount. If the business
in general had not been so lucrative
it would have
such things would have broke me up long ago. You see my trade is altogether in the line of good-looking wenches, and these
are a deal sight worse to manage than men—every way more skittish and skeery [scary]. Then it don’t do to cross them much;
or if you do they’ll cut up the devil, and like as anyhow break their necks, or pine themselves to skeletons. I lost six in
one season and out of one company. I had orders to fill at New Orleans and all for young and beautiful women without children.
Now a woman of eighteen or twenty without a child, and a slave, is not so easy to find, to say nothing of looking for fifty
or a hundred.”

“Rather a difficulty I should think” said Trappe. [“]I’ve had some experience of that kind myself.”

Trembling with fear I shrank back into the corner, while the gentlemen having seated themselves pursued the conversation.
Mr Trappe meanwhile keeping his eye on me.

“At last I concluded” continued Saddler “to take the women with or without children, and get clear of the brats somehow, in
any way that offered. But heavens, how they did carry on, and one, Louise by name, and the freshest and fairest in the gang,
actually
jumped into the river when she found that her child was irretrievably gone. Another one escaped and ran off to the
place where she supposed her boy to have been carried. The overseer was the first to discover her, and knowing her to be a
stranger, he lugged her off with the blood-hounds. They were real devils fierce, eager, and fiery—they tore her dreadfully,
spoiled all her beauty, rendering her utterly unfit for my traffic; and so I sold her for a song. Now this one—what’s her
name?”

“Hannah.”

“Thank you; now Hannah.”

“Has no child” suggested Mr Trappe.

“Has no child” repeated Saddler “which is great advantage, but it seems that she’s given to running away.”

“Not at all” returned Trappe. “No one could be more peaceable and contented than she is. That running away was altogether
the fault of the other one, and something Hannah would never have thought of had she been left alone.”

“Is she good-tempered?”

“Lord love you, the best tempered in the world, kind trusty, and religious.”

[“]Bah: I hardly think that religion will do her much good, or make her more subservient to the wishes of my employers. On
the whole I should prefer that she wasn’t religious,
but I suppose that they can drive it out of her
because religion is so apt to make people stubborn; it gives them such notions of duty, and that one thing is right and another
thing wrong; it sets them up so, you’ll even hear them telling that all mankind are made of one blood, and equal in the sight
of God.”

“There may be something in that” said Mr Trappe.

“There is something in it, there’s a great deal in it” pursued Saddler “give me a handsome wench, pleasant and good-tempered,
willing to conform herself to circumstances, and anxious to please,
without any notions of virtue, religion, or anything of
that sort. Such are by far the most marketable, provided they have health, are young and show off to advantage.”

“Well, Hannah does show off” answered Trappe. “Come out here again, and walk across the room. No disobedience, mind that:”

I walked forth.

“There’s a gait for you” said Trappe. “Few women can walk well, but Hannah does. She holds her head gracefully. Don’t you
think so?”

“Tolerable” said Saddler.

“She has a fine shape, good teeth, beautiful hair and fair complexion; is young; in high health; has good spirits and amiable
disposition. Why fifteen hundred dollars is nothing, nothing at all put in the scale against such a woman. She’ll bring you
two thousand easy.”

“I’m not so certain of that. She might possibly, provided I had her there, and she might not. It all depends on how she stands
the journey. She may look old, worn and faded, and then I could scarcely
one thousand for her However at a risk I will give you twelve hundred
realize one half that sum. However I’ll give you twelve hundred at a risk.”

“Say thirteen and take her” said Trappe.

“Sorry that I can’t” answered Saddler “but twelve hundred is really too much. Only think of my expense in getting her to the
market, to say nothing of the risk. I think it would be a wise plan to have the lives of such wenches insured.[”]

“Oh you’ll have no risk with her on that score. Not a bit of it. Just get her into the wagon, put on the cuffs and she’ll
be safe enough.”

“And you’ll take twelve hundred?”

“Suppose I must though I am very certain it is not enough.”

Saddler drew a leather wallet from his pocket, slowly counted out the money, and laying it on the table requested Mr Trappe
to see that it was right. He examined it, pronounced it good, and proceeded to make out a bill of sale. That concluded, Trappe
came to where I stood weeping.

“What the devil are you crying for?” he asked “Are you then so sorry to leave me?”

“No sir, I am not” I faltered.

Saddler laughed as if he thought my reply a good joke.

“What is the matter then.”

“Oh never mind” said Saddler. “These women with their whims, and caprices, and tears, and fooleries are the greatest plagues
imaginable. Why they’ll cry a dozen times a day, and you’ll know no more than the dead what ails ’em. They puzzled me terribly
for awhile and then I found out that the best plan was to just let them alone. If they wanted to cry why let ’em and pay no
attention to it.”

Saddler laughed again. No so with Mr Trappe. He never laughed. You might as well have accused him of love or sentimentality
as of laughing. His countenance seldom if ever relaxed into a smile. His lips could curl with disdain, his brow lower with
hate, his eye sparkle with revenge, but he could not laugh.