The Bondwoman's Narrative (29 page)

“Indeed, Madam.”

It’s more than a week I think, yes I know it is

“I was too feeble to think of attempting it myself, and since Jane ran off, there has been no one to whom I could think of
entrusting my head, till Mrs Henry so warmly recommended you.”

“I am much obliged to Mrs Henry I am sure.[”]

“Jane was very handy at almost everything” she continued. “You will seldom find a slave so handy, but she grew discontented
and dissatisfied with her condition, thought she could do better in a land of freedom, and such like I watched her closely
you may depend; there, there, how you pull.”

The comb had caught in a snarl of hair.

“Forgive me, madam, but I could not help it; the hair is actually matted.”

“Oh dear, this is what I have to endure from losing Jane, but she’ll have to suffer more, probably. I didn’t much like the
idea of bringing her to Washington. It was all Mr Wheeler’s fault. He wanted me to come, and I couldn’t think of doing without
her in my feeble health. Are you getting the tangles most out?”

“I believe so.”

“My husband, you are aware, occupies a high official position in the Federal City, which gives us access to the best society
the Capital affords. While there my time was chiefly occupied in giving and receiving visits, attending parties, and going
to places of amusement. As I knew that Washington was swarming with the enemies of our domestic institution I told Catharine,
my second maid, to keep a sharp eye on Jane, and if strangers called on her during my absence, or she received messages from
them to inform me. Hannah Hannah, why I can’t stand such rough usage.[”]

“I do my best, madam, but your hair is in a dreadful state.”

“I know that, but do be careful” and she continued the rehearsal of Jane’s conduct.

Those who suppose that southern ladies keep their attendants at a distance, scarcely speaking to them, or only to give commands
have a very erroneous impression. Between the mistress and her slave a freedom exists probably not to be found elsewhere.
A northern woman would have recoiled at the idea of communicating a private history to one of my race, and in my condition,
whereas such a thought never occurred to Mrs Wheeler. I was near her. She was not fond of silence when there was a listener,
and I was pleased with her apparent sociality.

“Catharine, however” she went on “was false to her trust, but I had a little page, or errand boy, who discovered that something
was not right, and so came to me one day, with the information that both Jane and Catharine had received a letter from somebody.
[‘]And who were they from?[’] I inquired.

“ [‘]Can’t tell for certain, but I think[’] he answered, scratching his head.

“ [‘]And what do you think?[’]

“ [‘]Why Missus, to tell you all about it. The ’Hio man’s servant has been here good many times, and Jane said he was her
brother, but I knowed better and told her so; then she wanted me not to
tell you, but I told her that I should. And to[-]day
he was skulking round here and then they both had letters, and that’s just what I know.[’] ”

“Who did he mean by the ’Hio man?”

“The Senator from Ohio, whose name I forget, but who professed a great regard for slaves and negroes, I don’t know why, unless
because he was so black himself, his mulatto servant being much the whitest, and best looking man of the two. This fellow
was thought to have his master’s concurrence in persuading servants to abandon their masters; it was even suspected that the
grave senator assisted in spiriting them away.”

“Did many go?”

“I should think so. Nearly every family lost two or more, and these generally speaking the most valuable ones they possessed.
I told my husband that there was something in the wind, but he only laughed at me, said there was no danger of our servants
going, that they were too well off, and knew it, and so one night when I was attending a party at the Russian Minister’s they
took themselves
away
off.[”]

“Did you try to recover them?[”]

“Oh, no: Mr Wheeler said that it would be of no use, and then he disliked making a hue and cry about a slave at the Federal
Capital, so we said little as possible about it.”

“Well Madam, your hair is completed; will you tell me how you like it?” said I, bringing forward a mirror. “To me it looks
well.”

“So it does, why Hannah I must retain you in my service.”

I bowed, but said nothing. Notwithstanding her sociality and freedom of conversation there was something in her manner that
I did not like. Her voice
had that low
was soft and low, but the tone was rather artificial than natural. Her manner was exceedingly pleasant and kind, though I
could not help fearing that it was affected. Then there was a sparkle in her eye, and a tremor in her
frame when she became
agitated that indicated an effort to keep down strong passion.

While assisting at her toilet I was greatly amused with the gossip and titbits of Washington scandal she related, yet my heart
did not yearn towards her as it [did] to Mrs Henry, and I felt a certain presentiment that
by acquaintance with her
she must be less good.

Her toilet preperations being finished she retired to her breakfast room, a dainty little boudoir, with a great bow window,
completely trellised by climbing rose vines. Here she was joined by Mrs Henry, and they partook together their morning meal.

“You find Hannah right handy, don’t you?” inquired Mrs Henry.

“Oh, very, I have serious thoughts of dictating a letter to that gentleman this day, if you will give me his name and address.
I must endeavor to secure her. She could fill the place of Jane so exactly.”

“She would do more” said Mrs Henry. “Hannah is a good girl; she has good principles, and is I believe a consistent Christian.
I don’t think your Jane was either.”

“Oh, as to that” said Mrs Wheeler [“]it makes little difference. I never trouble myself about the principles of my girls;
so they are obedient is all I require.”

After breakfast Mrs Henry went out to give the servants their orders for the day, while Mrs
Wheeler se
Wheeler requested me to read for her. I had not gone over two pages, when she called for pillows, which were to be disposed
about her person to facilitate slumber; then she inquired if I was musical, adding that Jane used to soothe her to sleep with
the guitar. I had played a little on the harp, and so I told her. She bade me get it, and play softly, very softly on account
of her nerves. Then settling her person among the pillows, but in such a manner as not to derange her hair she
prepared to
take a nap. My music, however, did not suit her. It was sharp, or flat, or dull, or insipid anything but what she wished.

I was sorry at my inability to please her, and apologised of course in the best language I was able to command.

It was singular, indeed, but there was something imperative in her manner. Her requests, though made in the softest voice,
implied command. You were not forced, but awed to obedience.

That afternoon she dictated a letter for me to write. It was to my prospective master, and the subject was myself. It opened
as business letters usually do, very brief and concise. Then it stated that she, (Mrs Wheeler) was visiting Mrs Henry, that
she had seen me, that I was very homely, and what was worse a bigot in religion; that I wept and shuddered at the idea of
being transferred to his family, though I was very fond of her, and that my earnest solicitations had induced her to offer
to purchase me, though she could not give anything like a great price, as she had many doubts of my ability to serve her properly,
and thought from my previous character that I would be likely to run away the first opportunity.

No one can doubt that I hesitated to pen such a libel on myself. She perceived my feelings.

“All in the way of a bargain, my dear” she said smiling in her blandest manner. “I think you quite beautiful but of course
others might not; then you are doubtless very good, yet some might consider your notions of religion and truth as highly improper
for one in your station, and of course you prefer the service of a lady to that of a gentleman, in which probably you would
be compelled to sacrifise [sic] honor and virtue. Upon the whole my dear, that letter is destined to do you a great kindness,
greater in all probability than you can imagine. Don’t you think so?”

I said like enough.

“Again” she continued “though you have not solicitated me to become your purchaser Mrs Henry has, which is just the same
thing
in substance, and as to my last remark of not being perfectly satisfied with your ways, as no one can pretend to perfection
in this world it is nothing. Don’t you see it so?”

“I cannot say that I do” I answered faintly.

Her eyes sparkled, her frame trembled, but her voice retained the same soft persuasive tone.

[“]Now Hannah, don’t be foolish, you know that I have great need of your services. Do you wish me to write that you are very
beautiful and good?”

“Oh, Madam, you know I do not.”

“Then why not remain satisfied with it as it is?”

“I am satisfied.”

“Very well, that is all. Now seal the letter.”

The letter was sealed, and despatched by the errand boy to the Post Office. Mrs Henry came in, and Mrs Wheeler informed her
that I had written a beautiful letter at her dictation, being myself perfectly
suited and
satisfied with the contents. Mrs Henry congratulated me on my improved prospects, and I saw how her open and guileless nature
had been duped.

Days passed away and still I was the attendant of Mrs Wheeler, though it is impossible to say how irksome the duty had become.
There seemed no end to her vanities, and whims, and caprices. She reminded me exactly of a spoiled child that never cares
for what it has, but is always wanting something new. She would call for a pomegranite, just taste, and then order it away,
and ask for a nutmeg or citron. These obtained were not prized, and something else was wanted. Yet I observed that such exhibitions
of disquiet and discontent were never made in the presence of Mrs Henry. Everything, then, was nice, beautiful, and excellent.
It seemed never to occur to her that a person could be ill or weary, though all the time complaining of feebleness herself.
Sometimes in the dead hours of night she would call me out of bed to get her some kind of candy
or confectionary. Then she
would call for water to take away the saccharine taste; and then again for more candy. Sometimes it would be for salt, and
at others vinegar; there was no telling. She used always to
charge me
order me not to let Mrs Henry know how foolish she was, and I was silly enough to obey her.

In due time a letter arrived from my master, and it seemed that he had heard a different report of me, and and [sic] my qualifications
from that given by Mrs Wheeler, and he rather dissented from her opinion in other particulars. However he expressed his readiness
to dispose of me on reasonable terms, leaving to Mr Henry the arbitration of the sale. I was not pleased, yet what could I
do? Should I expose the inconsistencies
revealed in my
in Mrs Wheeler’s character that my intimacy with her had discovered? Should I accuse her of deception, and almost open falsehood?
Could I expect to be believed when I said she was a hard mistress, and a woman unworthy of confidence? What would her friends
and mine say to such a proceeding? All these considerations I weighed deliberately, and finally concluded to let them consummate
the bargain without objection or difficulty. But I never felt so poor, so weak, so utterly subjected to the authority of another,
as when that woman with her soft voice and sauvity of manner, yet withal so stern and inflexible told me that I was hers body
and soul, and that she did and would exact obedience in all cases and under all circumstances. “And yet” I thought “Mrs Henry
told me how kind you were.”

But the best and wisest may be deceived.

service This I readily engaged to do, wishing not only to oblige the lady, but to show my gratitude to Mrs Henry The next
morning I was duly installed

Thou but my hiding place

Now Ninevah was a great Psalms city and full of people.

J
ONAH

Washington, the Federal City. Christmas holidays recently over. The implacable winter weather. The great President of the
Great Republic looks perhaps from the windows of his drawing room, and wonders at the mud and slush precisely as an ordinary
mortal would. Perhaps he remarks to the nearest secretary that the roads are dreadful; and the secretary bound to see with
the same eyes and hear with the same ears echoes “dreadful.” What inconsistency, and what a pity it is that great men should
care about roads or such common things.

But perhaps his excellency wished to take a drive, for Presidents generally admire splendid equipages and are fond of display.
No wonder, then, that he notices the mud—mud so deep and dark that you half fancy the waters of the deluge have but newly
retired from the earth, and that perhaps a Python might be caught by another Apollo floundering in the neighborhood of the
Capitol. Carriages dragging through mire; horses splashed to their manes. Congress men jostling each other at the street crossings,
or perhaps losing their foothold, where a negro slave was seen slipping and sliding but a moment before. Alas;
that mud and
wet weather should have so little respect for aristocracy.

Gloom everywhere. Gloom up the Potomac; where it rolls among meadows no longer green, and by splendid country seats. Gloom
down the Potomac where it washes the sides of huge warships. Gloom on the marshes, the fields, and heights. Gloom settling
steadily down over the sumptuous habitations of the rich, and creeping through the cellars of the poor. Gloom arresting the
steps of chance office-seekers, and bewildering the heads of grave and reverend Senators; for with fog, and drizzle, and a
sleety driving mist the night has come at least two hours before its time.