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                                 THE

                       HISTORY OF MARY PRINCE,

                        A WEST INDIAN SLAVE.



                         RELATED BY HERSELF.





                   WITH A SUPPLEMENT BY THE EDITOR.







                          To which is added,



                      THE NARRATIVE OF ASA-ASA,



                         A CAPTURED AFRICAN.







    "By our sufferings, since ye brought us

      To the man-degrading mart,--

    All sustain'd by patience, taught us

      Only by a broken heart,--

    Deem our nation brutes no longer,

      Till some reason ye shall find

    Worthier of regard, and stronger

      Than the colour of our kind."

                               COWPER.







                               LONDON:

               PUBLISHED BY F. WESTLEY AND A. H. DAVIS,

                       STATIONERS' HALL COURT;

                   AND BY WAUGH & INNES, EDINBURGH.



                                1831.









PREFACE.





The idea of writing Mary Prince's history was first suggested by herself.

She wished it to be done, she said, that good people in England might hear

from a slave what a slave had felt and suffered; and a letter of her late

master's, which will be found in the Supplement, induced me to accede to

her wish without farther delay. The more immediate object of the

publication will afterwards appear.



The narrative was taken down from Mary's own lips by a lady who happened

to be at the time residing in my family as a visitor. It was written out

fully, with all the narrator's repetitions and prolixities, and afterwards

pruned into its present shape; retaining, as far as was practicable,

Mary's exact expressions and peculiar phraseology. No fact of importance

has been omitted, and not a single circumstance or sentiment has been

added. It is essentially her own, without any material alteration farther

than was requisite to exclude redundancies and gross grammatical errors,

so as to render it clearly intelligible.



After it had been thus written out, I went over the whole, carefully

examining her on every fact and circumstance detailed; and in all that

relates to her residence in Antigua I had the advantage of being assisted

in this scrutiny by Mr. Joseph Phillips, who was a resident in that colony

during the same period, and had known her there.



The names of all the persons mentioned by the narrator have been printed

in full, except those of Capt. I---- and his wife, and that of Mr. D----,

to whom conduct of peculiar atrocity is ascribed. These three individuals

are now gone to answer at a far more awful tribunal than that of public

opinion, for the deeds of which their former bondwoman accuses them; and

to hold them up more openly to human reprobation could no longer affect

themselves, while it might deeply lacerate the feelings of their surviving

and perhaps innocent relatives, without any commensurate public advantage.



Without detaining the reader with remarks on other points which will be

adverted to more conveniently in the Supplement, I shall here merely

notice farther, that the Anti-Slavery Society have no concern whatever

with this publication, nor are they in any degree responsible for the

statements it contains. I have published the tract, not as their

Secretary, but in my private capacity; and any profits that may arise from

the sale will be exclusively appropriated to the benefit of Mary Prince

herself.



THO. PRINGLE.



_7, Solly Terrace, Claremont Square_,



_January 25, 1831._





P. S. Since writing the above, I have been furnished by my friend Mr.

George Stephen, with the interesting narrative of Asa-Asa, a captured

African, now under his protection; and have printed it as a suitable

appendix to this little history.



T. P.









THE HISTORY OF MARY PRINCE, A WEST INDIAN SLAVE.



(Related by herself.)





I was born at Brackish-Pond, in Bermuda, on a farm belonging to Mr.

Charles Myners. My mother was a household slave; and my father, whose name

was Prince, was a sawyer belonging to Mr. Trimmingham, a ship-builder at

Crow-Lane. When I was an infant, old Mr. Myners died, and there was a

division of the slaves and other property among the family. I was bought

along with my mother by old Captain Darrel, and given to his grandchild,

little Miss Betsey Williams. Captain Williams, Mr. Darrel's son-in-law,

was master of a vessel which traded to several places in America and the

West Indies, and he was seldom at home long together.



Mrs. Williams was a kind-hearted good woman, and she treated all her

slaves well. She had only one daughter, Miss Betsey, for whom I was

purchased, and who was about my own age. I was made quite a pet of by Miss

Betsey, and loved her very much. She used to lead me about by the hand,

and call me her little nigger. This was the happiest period of my life;

for I was too young to understand rightly my condition as a slave, and too

thoughtless and full of spirits to look forward to the days of toil and

sorrow.



My mother was a household slave in the same family. I was under her own

care, and my little brothers and sisters were my play-fellows and

companions. My mother had several fine children after she came to Mrs.

Williams,--three girls and two boys. The tasks given out to us children

were light, and we used to play together with Miss Betsey, with as much

freedom almost as if she had been our sister.



My master, however, was a very harsh, selfish man; and we always dreaded

his return from sea. His wife was herself much afraid of him; and, during

his stay at home, seldom dared to shew her usual kindness to the slaves.

He often left her, in the most distressed circumstances, to reside in

other female society, at some place in the West Indies of which I have

forgot the name. My poor mistress bore his ill-treatment with great

patience, and all her slaves loved and pitied her. I was truly attached to

her, and, next to my own mother, loved her better than any creature in the

world. My obedience to her commands was cheerfully given: it sprung

solely from the affection I felt for her, and not from fear of the power

which the white people's law had given her over me.



I had scarcely reached my twelfth year when my mistress became too poor to

keep so many of us at home; and she hired me out to Mrs. Pruden, a lady

who lived about five miles off, in the adjoining parish, in a large house

near the sea. I cried bitterly at parting with my dear mistress and Miss

Betsey, and when I kissed my mother and brothers and sisters, I thought my

young heart would break, it pained me so. But there was no help; I was

forced to go. Good Mrs. Williams comforted me by saying that I should

still be near the home I was about to quit, and might come over and see

her and my kindred whenever I could obtain leave of absence from Mrs.

Pruden. A few hours after this I was taken to a strange house, and found

myself among strange people. This separation seemed a sore trial to me

then; but oh! 'twas light, light to the trials I have since

endured!--'twas nothing--nothing to be mentioned with them; but I was a

child then, and it was according to my strength.



I knew that Mrs. Williams could no longer maintain me; that she was fain

to part with me for my food and clothing; and I tried to submit myself to

the change. My new mistress was a passionate woman; but yet she did not

treat me very unkindly. I do not remember her striking me but once, and

that was for going to see Mrs. Williams when I heard she was sick, and

staying longer than she had given me leave to do. All my employment at

this time was nursing a sweet baby, little Master Daniel; and I grew so

fond of my nursling that it was my greatest delight to walk out with him

by the sea-shore, accompanied by his brother and sister, Miss Fanny and

Master James.--Dear Miss Fanny! She was a sweet, kind young lady, and so

fond of me that she wished me to learn all that she knew herself; and her

method of teaching me was as follows:--Directly she had said her lessons

to her grandmamma, she used to come running to me, and make me repeat them

one by one after her; and in a few months I was able not only to say my

letters but to spell many small words. But this happy state was not to

last long. Those days were too pleasant to last. My heart always softens

when I think of them.



At this time Mrs. Williams died. I was told suddenly of her death, and my

grief was so great that, forgetting I had the baby in my arms, I ran away

directly to my poor mistress's house; but reached it only in time to see

the corpse carried out. Oh, that was a day of sorrow,--a heavy day! All

the slaves cried. My mother cried and lamented her sore; and I (foolish

creature!) vainly entreated them to bring my dear mistress back to life. I

knew nothing rightly about death then, and it seemed a hard thing to bear.

When I thought about my mistress I felt as if the world was all gone

wrong; and for many days and weeks I could think of nothing else. I

returned to Mrs. Pruden's; but my sorrow was too great to be comforted,

for my own dear mistress was always in my mind. Whether in the house or

abroad, my thoughts were always talking to me about her.



I staid at Mrs. Pruden's about three months after this; I was then sent

back to Mr. Williams to be sold. Oh, that was a sad sad time! I recollect

the day well. Mrs. Pruden came to me and said, "Mary, you will have to go

home directly; your master is going to be married, and he means to sell

you and two of your sisters to raise money for the wedding." Hearing this

I burst out a crying,--though I was then far from being sensible of the

full weight of my misfortune, or of the misery that waited for me.

Besides, I did not like to leave Mrs. Pruden, and the dear baby, who had

grown very fond of me. For some time I could scarcely believe that Mrs.

Pruden was in earnest, till I received orders for my immediate

return.--Dear Miss Fanny! how she cried at parting with me, whilst I

kissed and hugged the baby, thinking I should never see him again. I left

Mrs. Pruden's, and walked home with a heart full of sorrow. The idea of

being sold away from my mother and Miss Betsey was so frightful, that I

dared not trust myself to think about it. We had been bought of Mr.

Myners, as I have mentioned, by Miss Betsey's grandfather, and given to

her, so that we were by right _her_ property, and I never thought we

should be separated or sold away from her.



When I reached the house, I went in directly to Miss Betsey. I found her

in great distress; and she cried out as soon as she saw me, "Oh, Mary! my

father is going to sell you all to raise money to marry that wicked woman.

You are _my_ slaves, and he has no right to sell you; but it is all to

please her." She then told me that my mother was living with her father's

sister at a house close by, and I went there to see her. It was a

sorrowful meeting; and we lamented with a great and sore crying our

unfortunate situation. "Here comes one of my poor picaninnies!" she said,

the moment I came in, "one of the poor slave-brood who are to be sold

to-morrow."



Oh dear! I cannot bear to think of that day,--it is too much.--It recalls

the great grief that filled my heart, and the woeful thoughts that passed

to and fro through my mind, whilst listening to the pitiful words of my

poor mother, weeping for the loss of her children. I wish I could find

words to tell you all I then felt and suffered. The great God above alone

knows the thoughts of the poor slave's heart, and the bitter pains which

follow such separations as these. All that we love taken away from us--Oh,

it is sad, sad! and sore to be borne!--I got no sleep that night for

thinking of the morrow; and dear Miss Betsey was scarcely less distressed.

She could not bear to part with her old playmates, and she cried sore and

would not be pacified.



The black morning at length came; it came too soon for my poor mother and

us. Whilst she was putting on us the new osnaburgs in which we were to be

sold, she said, in a sorrowful voice, (I shall never forget it!) "See, I

am _shrouding_ my poor children; what a task for a mother!"--She then

called Miss Betsey to take leave of us. "I am going to carry my little

chickens to market," (these were her very words,) "take your last look of

them; may be you will see them no more." "Oh, my poor slaves! my own

slaves!" said dear Miss Betsey, "you belong to me; and it grieves my heart

to part with you."--Miss Betsey kissed us all, and, when she left us, my

mother called the rest of the slaves to bid us good bye. One of them, a

woman named Moll, came with her infant in her arms. "Ay!" said my mother,

seeing her turn away and look at her child with the tears in her eyes,

"your turn will come next." The slaves could say nothing to comfort us;

they could only weep and lament with us. When I left my dear little

brothers and the house in which I had been brought up, I thought my heart

would burst.



Our mother, weeping as she went, called me away with the children Hannah

and Dinah, and we took the road that led to Hamble Town, which we reached

about four o'clock in the afternoon. We followed my mother to the

market-place, where she placed us in a row against a large house, with our

backs to the wall and our arms folded across our breasts. I, as the

eldest, stood first, Hannah next to me, then Dinah; and our mother stood

beside, crying over us. My heart throbbed with grief and terror so

violently, that I pressed my hands quite tightly across my breast, but I

could not keep it still, and it continued to leap as though it would burst

out of my body. But who cared for that? Did one of the many by-standers,

who were looking at us so carelessly, think of the pain that wrung the

hearts of the negro woman and her young ones? No, no! They were not all

bad, I dare say; but slavery hardens white people's hearts towards the

blacks; and many of them were not slow to make their remarks upon us

aloud, without regard to our grief--though their light words fell like

cayenne on the fresh wounds of our hearts. Oh those white people have

small hearts who can only feel for themselves.



At length the vendue master, who was to offer us for sale like sheep or

cattle, arrived, and asked my mother which was the eldest. She said

nothing, but pointed to me. He took me by the hand, and led me out into

the middle of the street, and, turning me slowly round, exposed me to the

view of those who attended the vendue. I was soon surrounded by strange

men, who examined and handled me in the same manner that a butcher would a

calf or a lamb he was about to purchase, and who talked about my shape and

size in like words--as if I could no more understand their meaning than

the dumb beasts. I was then put up to sale. The bidding commenced at a few

pounds, and gradually rose to fifty-seven,[1] when I was knocked down to

the highest bidder; and the people who stood by said that I had fetched a

great sum for so young a slave.



[Footnote 1: Bermuda currency; about L38 sterling.]



I then saw my sisters led forth, and sold to different owners; so that we

had not the sad satisfaction of being partners in bondage. When the sale

was over, my mother hugged and kissed us, and mourned over us, begging of

us to keep up a good heart, and do our duty to our new masters. It was a

sad parting; one went one way, one another, and our poor mammy went home

with nothing.[2]



[Footnote 2: Let the reader compare the above affecting account, taken

down from the mouth of this negro woman, with the following description of

a vendue of slaves at the Cape of Good Hope, published by me in 1826, from

the letter of a friend,--and mark their similarity in several

characteristic circumstances. The resemblance is easily accounted for:

slavery wherever it prevails produces similar effects.--"Having heard that

there was to be a sale of cattle, farm stock, &c. by auction, at a

Veld-Cornet's in the vicinity, we halted our waggon one day for the

purpose of procuring a fresh spann of oxen. Among the stock of the farm

sold, was a female slave and her three children. The two eldest children

were girls, the one about thirteen years of age, and the other about

eleven; the youngest was a boy. The whole family were exhibited together,

but they were sold separately, and to different purchasers. The farmers

examined them as if they had been so many head of cattle. While the sale

was going on, the mother and her children were exhibited on a table, that

they might be seen by the company, which was very large. There could not

have been a finer subject for an able painter than this unhappy group. The

tears, the anxiety, the anguish of the mother, while she met the gaze of

the multitude, eyed the different countenances of the bidders, or cast a

heart-rending look upon the children; and the simplicity and touching

sorrow of the young ones, while they clung to their distracted parent,

wiping their eyes, and half concealing their faces,--contrasted with the

marked insensibility and jocular countenances of the spectators and

purchasers,--furnished a striking commentary on the miseries of slavery,

and its debasing effects upon the hearts of its abettors. While the woman

was in this distressed situation she was asked, 'Can you feed sheep?' Her

reply was so indistinct that it escaped me; but it was probably in the

negative, for her purchaser rejoined, in a loud and harsh voice, 'Then I

will teach you with the sjamboc,' (a whip made of the rhinoceros' hide.)

The mother and her three children were sold to three separate purchasers;

and they were literally torn from each other."--_Ed._]



My new master was a Captain I----, who lived at Spanish Point. After

parting with my mother and sisters, I followed him to his store, and he

gave me into the charge of his son, a lad about my own age, Master Benjy,

who took me to my new home. I did not know where I was going, or what my

new master would do with me. My heart was quite broken with grief, and my

thoughts went back continually to those from whom I had been so suddenly

parted. "Oh, my mother! my mother!" I kept saying to myself, "Oh, my mammy

and my sisters and my brothers, shall I never see you again!"



Oh, the trials! the trials! they make the salt water come into my eyes

when I think of the days in which I was afflicted--the times that are

gone; when I mourned and grieved with a young heart for those whom I

loved.



It was night when I reached my new home. The house was large, and built at

the bottom of a very high hill; but I could not see much of it that night.

I saw too much of it afterwards. The stones and the timber were the best

things in it; they were not so hard as the hearts of the owners.[3]



[Footnote 3: These strong expressions, and all of a similar character in

this little narrative, are given verbatim as uttered by Mary

Prince.--_Ed._]



Before I entered the house, two slave women, hired from another owner, who

were at work in the yard, spoke to me, and asked who I belonged to? I

replied, "I am come to live here." "Poor child, poor child!" they both

said; "you must keep a good heart, if you are to live here."--When I went

in, I stood up crying in a corner. Mrs. I---- came and took off my hat, a

little black silk hat Miss Pruden made for me, and said in a rough voice,

"You are not come here to stand up in corners and cry, you are come here

to work." She then put a child into my arms, and, tired as I was, I was

forced instantly to take up my old occupation of a nurse.--I could not

bear to look at my mistress, her countenance was so stern. She was a stout

tall woman with a very dark complexion, and her brows were always drawn

together into a frown. I thought of the words of the two slave women when

I saw Mrs. I----, and heard the harsh sound of her voice.



The person I took the most notice of that night was a French Black called

Hetty, whom my master took in privateering from another vessel, and made

his slave. She was the most active woman I ever saw, and she was tasked to

her utmost. A few minutes after my arrival she came in from milking the

cows, and put the sweet-potatoes on for supper. She then fetched home the

sheep, and penned them in the fold; drove home the cattle, and staked them

about the pond side;[4] fed and rubbed down my master's horse, and gave

the hog and the fed cow[5] their suppers; prepared the beds, and undressed

the children, and laid them to sleep. I liked to look at her and watch all

her doings, for hers was the only friendly face I had as yet seen, and I

felt glad that she was there. She gave me my supper of potatoes and milk,

and a blanket to sleep upon, which she spread for me in the passage before

the door of Mrs. I----'s chamber.



[Footnote 4: The cattle on a small plantation in Bermuda are, it seems,

often thus staked or tethered, both night and day, in situations where

grass abounds.]



[Footnote 5: A cow fed for slaughter.]



I got a sad fright, that night. I was just going to sleep, when I heard a

noise in my mistress's room; and she presently called out to inquire if

some work was finished that she had ordered Hetty to do. "No, Ma'am, not

yet," was Hetty's answer from below. On hearing this, my master started up

from his bed, and just as he was, in his shirt, ran down stairs with a

long cow-skin[6] in his hand. I heard immediately after, the cracking of

the thong, and the house rang to the shrieks of poor Hetty, who kept

crying out, "Oh, Massa! Massa! me dead. Massa! have mercy upon me--don't

kill me outright."--This was a sad beginning for me. I sat up upon my

blanket, trembling with terror, like a frightened hound, and thinking that

my turn would come next. At length the house became still, and I forgot

for a little while all my sorrows by falling fast asleep.



[Footnote 6: A thong of hard twisted hide, known by this name in the West

Indies.]



The next morning my mistress set about instructing me in my tasks. She

taught me to do all sorts of household work; to wash and bake, pick cotton

and wool, and wash floors, and cook. And she taught me (how can I ever

forget it!) more things than these; she caused me to know the exact

difference between the smart of the rope, the cart-whip, and the cow-skin,

when applied to my naked body by her own cruel hand. And there was

scarcely any punishment more dreadful than the blows I received on my face

and head from her hard heavy fist. She was a fearful woman, and a savage

mistress to her slaves.



There were two little slave boys in the house, on whom she vented her bad

temper in a special manner. One of these children was a mulatto, called

Cyrus, who had been bought while an infant in his mother's arms; the

other, Jack, was an African from the coast of Guinea, whom a sailor had

given or sold to my master. Seldom a day passed without these boys

receiving the most severe treatment, and often for no fault at all. Both

my master and mistress seemed to think that they had a right to ill-use

them at their pleasure; and very often accompanied their commands with

blows, whether the children were behaving well or ill. I have seen their

flesh ragged and raw with licks.--Lick--lick--they were never secure one

moment from a blow, and their lives were passed in continual fear. My

mistress was not contented with using the whip, but often pinched their

cheeks and arms in the most cruel manner. My pity for these poor boys was

soon transferred to myself; for I was licked, and flogged, and pinched by

her pitiless fingers in the neck and arms, exactly as they were. To strip

me naked--to hang me up by the wrists and lay my flesh open with the

cow-skin, was an ordinary punishment for even a slight offence. My

mistress often robbed me too of the hours that belong to sleep. She used

to sit up very late, frequently even until morning; and I had then to

stand at a bench and wash during the greater part of the night, or pick

wool and cotton; and often I have dropped down overcome by sleep and

fatigue, till roused from a state of stupor by the whip, and forced to

start up to my tasks.



Poor Hetty, my fellow slave, was very kind to me, and I used to call her

my Aunt; but she led a most miserable life, and her death was hastened (at

least the slaves all believed and said so,) by the dreadful chastisement

she received from my master during her pregnancy. It happened as follows.

One of the cows had dragged the rope away from the stake to which Hetty

had fastened it, and got loose. My master flew into a terrible passion,

and ordered the poor creature to be stripped quite naked, notwithstanding

her pregnancy, and to be tied up to a tree in the yard. He then flogged

her as hard as he could lick, both with the whip and cow-skin, till she

was all over streaming with blood. He rested, and then beat her again and

again. Her shrieks were terrible. The consequence was that poor Hetty was

brought to bed before her time, and was delivered after severe labour of a

dead child. She appeared to recover after her confinement, so far that she

was repeatedly flogged by both master and mistress afterwards; but her

former strength never returned to her. Ere long her body and limbs swelled

to a great size; and she lay on a mat in the kitchen, till the water burst

out of her body and she died. All the slaves said that death was a good

thing for poor Hetty; but I cried very much for her death. The manner of

it filled me with horror. I could not bear to think about it; yet it was

always present to my mind for many a day.



After Hetty died all her labours fell upon me, in addition to my own. I

had now to milk eleven cows every morning before sunrise, sitting among

the damp weeds; to take care of the cattle as well as the children; and to

do the work of the house. There was no end to my toils--no end to my

blows. I lay down at night and rose up in the morning in fear and sorrow;

and often wished that like poor Hetty I could escape from this cruel

bondage and be at rest in the grave. But the hand of that God whom then I

knew not, was stretched over me; and I was mercifully preserved for better

things. It was then, however, my heavy lot to weep, weep, weep, and that

for years; to pass from one misery to another, and from one cruel master

to a worse. But I must go on with the thread of my story.



One day a heavy squall of wind and rain came on suddenly, and my mistress

sent me round the corner of the house to empty a large earthen jar. The

jar was already cracked with an old deep crack that divided it in the

middle, and in turning it upside down to empty it, it parted in my hand. I

could not help the accident, but I was dreadfully frightened, looking

forward to a severe punishment. I ran crying to my mistress, "O mistress,

the jar has come in two." "You have broken it, have you?" she replied;

"come directly here to me." I came trembling; she stripped and flogged me

long and severely with the cow-skin; as long as she had strength to use

the lash, for she did not give over till she was quite tired.--When my

master came home at night, she told him of my fault; and oh, frightful!

how he fell a swearing. After abusing me with every ill name he could

think of, (too, too bad to speak in England,) and giving me several heavy

blows with his hand, he said, "I shall come home to-morrow morning at

twelve, on purpose to give you a round hundred." He kept his word--Oh sad

for me! I cannot easily forget it. He tied me up upon a ladder, and gave

me a hundred lashes with his own hand, and master Benjy stood by to count

them for him. When he had licked me for some time he sat down to take

breath; then after resting, he beat me again and again, until he was quite

wearied, and so hot (for the weather was very sultry), that he sank back

in his chair, almost like to faint. While my mistress went to bring him

drink, there was a dreadful earthquake. Part of the roof fell down, and

every thing in the house went--clatter, clatter, clatter. Oh I thought the

end of all things near at hand; and I was so sore with the flogging, that

I scarcely cared whether I lived or died. The earth was groaning and

shaking; every thing tumbling about; and my mistress and the slaves were

shrieking and crying out, "The earthquake! the earthquake!" It was an

awful day for us all.



During the confusion I crawled away on my hands and knees, and laid myself

down under the steps of the piazza, in front of the house. I was in a

dreadful state--my body all blood and bruises, and I could not help

moaning piteously. The other slaves, when they saw me, shook their heads

and said, "Poor child! poor child!"--I lay there till the morning,

careless of what might happen, for life was very weak in me, and I wished

more than ever to die. But when we are very young, death always seems a

great way off, and it would not come that night to me. The next morning I

was forced by my master to rise and go about my usual work, though my body

and limbs were so stiff and sore, that I could not move without the

greatest pain.--Nevertheless, even after all this severe punishment, I

never heard the last of that jar; my mistress was always throwing it in my

face.



Some little time after this, one of the cows got loose from the stake, and

eat one of the sweet-potatoe slips. I was milking when my master found it

out. He came to me, and without any more ado, stooped down, and taking off

his heavy boot, he struck me such a severe blow in the small of my back,

that I shrieked with agony, and thought I was killed; and I feel a

weakness in that part to this day. The cow was frightened at his

violence, and kicked down the pail and spilt the milk all about. My master

knew that this accident was his own fault, but he was so enraged that he

seemed glad of an excuse to go on with his ill usage. I cannot remember

how many licks he gave me then, but he beat me till I was unable to stand,

and till he himself was weary.



After this I ran away and went to my mother, who was living with Mr.

Richard Darrel. My poor mother was both grieved and glad to see me;

grieved because I had been so ill used, and glad because she had not seen

me for a long, long while. She dared not receive me into the house, but

she hid me up in a hole in the rocks near, and brought me food at night,

after every body was asleep. My father, who lived at Crow-Lane, over the

salt-water channel, at last heard of my being hid up in the cavern, and he

came and took me back to my master. Oh I was loth, loth to go back; but as

there was no remedy, I was obliged to submit.



When we got home, my poor father said to Capt. I----, "Sir, I am sorry

that my child should be forced to run away from her owner; but the

treatment she has received is enough to break her heart. The sight of her

wounds has nearly broke mine.--I entreat you, for the love of God, to

forgive her for running away, and that you will be a kind master to her in

future." Capt. I---- said I was used as well as I deserved, and that I

ought to be punished for running away. I then took courage and said that I

could stand the floggings no longer; that I was weary of my life, and

therefore I had run away to my mother; but mothers could only weep and

mourn over their children, they could not save them from cruel

masters--from the whip, the rope, and the cow-skin. He told me to hold my

tongue and go about my work, or he would find a way to settle me. He did

not, however, flog me that day.



For five years after this I remained in his house, and almost daily

received the same harsh treatment. At length he put me on board a sloop,

and to my great joy sent me away to Turk's Island. I was not permitted to

see my mother or father, or poor sisters and brothers, to say good bye,

though going away to a strange land, and might never see them again. Oh

the Buckra people who keep slaves think that black people are like cattle,

without natural affection. But my heart tells me it is far otherwise.



We were nearly four weeks on the voyage, which was unusually long.

Sometimes we had a light breeze, sometimes a great calm, and the ship made

no way; so that our provisions and water ran very low, and we were put

upon short allowance. I should almost have been starved had it not been

for the kindness of a black man called Anthony, and his wife, who had

brought their own victuals, and shared them with me.



When we went ashore at the Grand Quay, the captain sent me to the house of

my new master, Mr. D----, to whom Captain I----had sold me. Grand Quay is

a small town upon a sandbank; the houses low and built of wood. Such was

my new master's. The first person I saw, on my arrival, was Mr. D----, a

stout sulky looking man, who carried me through the hall to show me to his

wife and children. Next day I was put up by the vendue master to know how

much I was worth, and I was valued at one hundred pounds currency.



My new master was one of the owners or holders of the salt ponds, and he

received a certain sum for every slave that worked upon his premises,

whether they were young or old. This sum was allowed him out of the

profits arising from the salt works. I was immediately sent to work in the

salt water with the rest of the slaves. This work was perfectly new to me.

I was given a half barrel and a shovel, and had to stand up to my knees in

the water, from four o'clock in the morning till nine, when we were given

some Indian corn boiled in water, which we were obliged to swallow as fast

as we could for fear the rain should come on and melt the salt. We were

then called again to our tasks, and worked through the heat of the day;

the sun flaming upon our heads like fire, and raising salt blisters in

those parts which were not completely covered. Our feet and legs, from

standing in the salt water for so many hours, soon became full of dreadful

boils, which eat down in some cases to the very bone, afflicting the

sufferers with great torment. We came home at twelve; ate our corn soup,

called _blawly_, as fast as we could, and went back to our employment till

dark at night. We then shovelled up the salt in large heaps, and went down

to the sea, where we washed the pickle from our limbs, and cleaned the

barrows and shovels from the salt. When we returned to the house, our

master gave us each our allowance of raw Indian corn, which we pounded in

a mortar and boiled in water for our suppers.



We slept in a long shed, divided into narrow slips, like the stalls used

for cattle. Boards fixed upon stakes driven into the ground, without mat

or covering, were our only beds. On Sundays, after we had washed the salt

bags, and done other work required of us, we went into the bush and cut

the long soft grass, of which we made trusses for our legs and feet to

rest upon, for they were so full of the salt boils that we could get no

rest lying upon the bare boards.



Though we worked from morning till night, there was no satisfying Mr.

D----. I hoped, when I left Capt. I----, that I should have been better

off, but I found it was but going from one butcher to another. There was

this difference between them: my former master used to beat me while

raging and foaming with passion; Mr. D---- was usually quite calm. He

would stand by and give orders for a slave to be cruelly whipped, and

assist in the punishment, without moving a muscle of his face; walking

about and taking snuff with the greatest composure. Nothing could touch

his hard heart--neither sighs, nor tears, nor prayers, nor streaming

blood; he was deaf to our cries, and careless of our sufferings. Mr. D----

has often stripped me naked, hung me up by the wrists, and beat me with

the cow-skin, with his own hand, till my body was raw with gashes. Yet

there was nothing very remarkable in this; for it might serve as a sample

of the common usage of the slaves on that horrible island.



Owing to the boils in my feet, I was unable to wheel the barrow fast

through the sand, which got into the sores, and made me stumble at every

step; and my master, having no pity for my sufferings from this cause,

rendered them far more intolerable, by chastising me for not being able to

move so fast as he wished me. Another of our employments was to row a

little way off from the shore in a boat, and dive for large stones to

build a wall round our master's house. This was very hard work; and the

great waves breaking over us continually, made us often so giddy that we

lost our footing, and were in danger of being drowned.



Ah, poor me!--my tasks were never ended. Sick or well, it was

work--work--work!--After the diving season was over, we were sent to the

South Creek, with large bills, to cut up mangoes to burn lime with. Whilst

one party of slaves were thus employed, another were sent to the other

side of the island to break up coral out of the sea.



When we were ill, let our complaint be what it might, the only medicine

given to us was a great bowl of hot salt water, with salt mixed with it,

which made us very sick. If we could not keep up with the rest of the gang

of slaves, we were put in the stocks, and severely flogged the next

morning. Yet, not the less, our master expected, after we had thus been

kept from our rest, and our limbs rendered stiff and sore with ill usage,

that we should still go through the ordinary tasks of the day all the

same.--Sometimes we had to work all night, measuring salt to load a

vessel; or turning a machine to draw water out of the sea for the

salt-making. Then we had no sleep--no rest--but were forced to work as

fast as we could, and go on again all next day the same as usual.

Work--work--work--Oh that Turk's Island was a horrible place! The people

in England, I am sure, have never found out what is carried on there.

Cruel, horrible place!



Mr. D---- had a slave called old Daniel, whom he used to treat in the most

cruel manner. Poor Daniel was lame in the hip, and could not keep up with

the rest of the slaves; and our master would order him to be stripped and

laid down on the ground, and have him beaten with a rod of rough briar

till his skin was quite red and raw. He would then call for a bucket of

salt, and fling upon the raw flesh till the man writhed on the ground like

a worm, and screamed aloud with agony. This poor man's wounds were never

healed, and I have often seen them full of maggots, which increased his

torments to an intolerable degree. He was an object of pity and terror to

the whole gang of slaves, and in his wretched case we saw, each of us, our

own lot, if we should live to be as old.



Oh the horrors of slavery!--How the thought of it pains my heart! But the

truth ought to be told of it; and what my eyes have seen I think it is my

duty to relate; for few people in England know what slavery is. I have

been a slave--I have felt what a slave feels, and I know what a slave

knows; and I would have all the good people in England to know it too,

that they may break our chains, and set us free.



Mr. D---- had another slave called Ben. He being very hungry, stole a

little rice one night after he came in from work, and cooked it for his

supper. But his master soon discovered the theft; locked him up all night;

and kept him without food till one o'clock the next day. He then hung Ben

up by his hands, and beat him from time to time till the slaves came in at

night. We found the poor creature hung up when we came home; with a pool

of blood beneath him, and our master still licking him. But this was not

the worst. My master's son was in the habit of stealing the rice and rum.

Ben had seen him do this, and thought he might do the same, and when

master found out that Ben had stolen the rice and swore to punish him, he

tried to excuse himself by saying that Master Dickey did the same thing

every night. The lad denied it to his father, and was so angry with Ben

for informing against him, that out of revenge he ran and got a bayonet,

and whilst the poor wretch was suspended by his hands and writhing under

his wounds, he run it quite through his foot. I was not by when he did it,

but I saw the wound when I came home, and heard Ben tell the manner in

which it was done.



I must say something more about this cruel son of a cruel father.--He had

no heart--no fear of God; he had been brought up by a bad father in a bad

path, and he delighted to follow in the same steps. There was a little old

woman among the slaves called Sarah, who was nearly past work; and, Master

Dickey being the overseer of the slaves just then, this poor creature, who

was subject to several bodily infirmities, and was not quite right in her

head, did not wheel the barrow fast enough to please him. He threw her

down on the ground, and after beating her severely, he took her up in his

arms and flung her among the prickly-pear bushes, which are all covered

over with sharp venomous prickles. By this her naked flesh was so

grievously wounded, that her body swelled and festered all over, and she

died a few days after. In telling my own sorrows, I cannot pass by those

of my fellow-slaves--for when I think of my own griefs, I remember theirs.



I think it was about ten years I had worked in the salt ponds at Turk's

Island, when my master left off business, and retired to a house he had in

Bermuda, leaving his son to succeed him in the island. He took me with him

to wait upon his daughters; and I was joyful, for I was sick, sick of

Turk's Island, and my heart yearned to see my native place again, my

mother, and my kindred.



I had seen my poor mother during the time I was a slave in Turk's Island.

One Sunday morning I was on the beach with some of the slaves, and we saw

a sloop come in loaded with slaves to work in the salt water. We got a

boat and went aboard. When I came upon the deck I asked the black people,

"Is there any one here for me?" "Yes," they said, "your mother." I thought

they said this in jest--I could scarcely believe them for joy; but when I

saw my poor mammy my joy was turned to sorrow, for she had gone from her

senses. "Mammy," I said, "is this you?" She did not know me. "Mammy," I

said, "what's the matter?" She began to talk foolishly, and said that she

had been under the vessel's bottom. They had been overtaken by a violent

storm at sea. My poor mother had never been on the sea before, and she was

so ill, that she lost her senses, and it was long before she came quite to

herself again. She had a sweet child with her--a little sister I had never

seen, about four years of age, called Rebecca. I took her on shore with

me, for I felt I should love her directly; and I kept her with me a week.

Poor little thing! her's has been a sad life, and continues so to this

day. My mother worked for some years on the island, but was taken back to

Bermuda some time before my master carried me again thither.[7]



[Footnote 7: Of the subsequent lot of her relatives she can tell but

little. She says, her father died while she and her mother were at Turk's

Island; and that he had been long dead and buried before any of his

children in Bermuda knew of it, they being slaves on other estates. Her

mother died after Mary went to Antigua. Of the fate of the rest of her

kindred, seven brothers and three sisters, she knows nothing further than

this--that the eldest sister, who had several children to her master, was

taken by him to Trinidad; and that the youngest, Rebecca, is still alive,

and in slavery in Bermuda. Mary herself is now about forty-three years of

age.--_Ed._]



After I left Turk's Island, I was told by some negroes that came over from

it, that the poor slaves had built up a place with boughs and leaves,

where they might meet for prayers, but the white people pulled it down

twice, and would not allow them even a shed for prayers. A flood came down

soon after and washed away many houses, filled the place with sand, and

overflowed the ponds: and I do think that this was for their wickedness;

for the Buckra men[8] there were very wicked. I saw and heard much that

was very very bad at that place.



[Footnote 8: Negro term for white people.]



I was several years the slave of Mr. D---- after I returned to my native

place. Here I worked in the grounds. My work was planting and hoeing

sweet-potatoes, Indian corn, plantains, bananas, cabbages, pumpkins,

onions, &c. I did all the household work, and attended upon a horse and

cow besides,--going also upon all errands. I had to curry the horse--to

clean and feed him--and sometimes to ride him a little. I had more than

enough to do--but still it was not so very bad as Turk's Island.



My old master often got drunk, and then he would get in a fury with his

daughter, and beat her till she was not fit to be seen. I remember on one

occasion, I had gone to fetch water, and when I Was coming up the hill I

heard a great screaming; I ran as fast as I could to the house, put down

the water, and went into the chamber, where I found my master beating Miss

D---- dreadfully. I strove with all my strength to get her away from him;

for she was all black and blue with bruises. He had beat her with his

fist, and almost killed her. The people gave me credit for getting her

away. He turned round and began to lick me. Then I said, "Sir, this is not

Turk's Island." I can't repeat his answer, the words were too wicked--too

bad to say. He wanted to treat me the same in Bermuda as he had done in

Turk's Island.



He had an ugly fashion of stripping himself quite naked, and ordering me

then to wash him in a tub of water. This was worse to me than all the

licks. Sometimes when he called me to wash him I would not come, my eyes

were so full of shame. He would then come to beat me. One time I had

plates and knives in my hand, and I dropped both plates and knives, and

some of the plates were broken. He struck me so severely for this, that at

last I defended myself, for I thought it was high time to do so. I then

told him I would not live longer with him, for he was a very indecent

man--very spiteful, and too indecent; with no shame for his servants, no

shame for his own flesh. So I went away to a neighbouring house and sat

down and cried till the next morning, when I went home again, not knowing

what else to do.



After that I was hired to work at Cedar Hills, and every Saturday night I

paid the money to my master. I had plenty of work to do there--plenty of

washing; but yet I made myself pretty comfortable. I earned two dollars

and a quarter a week, which is twenty pence a day.



During the time I worked there, I heard that Mr. John Wood was going to

Antigua. I felt a great wish to go there, and I went to Mr. D----, and

asked him to let me go in Mr. Wood's service. Mr. Wood did not then want

to purchase me; it was my own fault that I came under him, I was so

anxious to go. It was ordained to be, I suppose; God led me there. The

truth is, I did not wish to be any longer the slave of my indecent master.



Mr. Wood took me with him to Antigua, to the town of St. John's, where he

lived. This was about fifteen years ago. He did not then know whether I

was to be sold; but Mrs. Wood found that I could work, and she wanted to

buy me. Her husband then wrote to my master to inquire whether I was to be

sold? Mr. D---- wrote in reply, "that I should not be sold to any one that

would treat me ill." It was strange he should say this, when he had

treated me so ill himself. So I was purchased by Mr. Wood for 300 dollars,

(or L100 Bermuda currency.)[9]



[Footnote 9: About L67. 10s. sterling.]



My work there was to attend the chambers and nurse the child, and to go

down to the pond and wash clothes. But I soon fell ill of the rheumatism,

and grew so very lame that I was forced to walk with a stick. I got the

Saint Anthony's fire, also, in my left leg, and became quite a cripple. No

one cared much to come near me, and I was ill a long long time; for

several months I could not lift the limb. I had to lie in a little old

out-house, that was swarming with bugs and other vermin, which tormented

me greatly; but I had no other place to lie in. I got the rheumatism by

catching cold at the pond side, from washing in the fresh water; in the

salt water I never got cold. The person who lived in next yard, (a Mrs.

Greene,) could not bear to hear my cries and groans. She was kind, and

used to send an old slave woman to help me, who sometimes brought me a

little soup. When the doctor found I was so ill, he said I must be put

into a bath of hot water. The old slave got the bark of some bush that was

good for the pains, which she boiled in the hot water, and every night she

came and put me into the bath, and did what she could for me: I don't know

what I should have done, or what would have become of me, had it not been

for her.--My mistress, it is true, did send me a little food; but no one

from our family came near me but the cook, who used to shove my food in at

the door, and say, "Molly, Molly, there's your dinner." My mistress did not

care to take any trouble about me; and if the Lord had not put it into the

hearts of the neighbours to be kind to me, I must, I really think, have

lain and died.



It was a long time before I got well enough to work in the house. Mrs.

Wood, in the meanwhile, hired a mulatto woman to nurse the child; but she

was such a fine lady she wanted to be mistress over me. I thought it very

hard for a coloured woman to have rule over me because I was a slave and

she was free. Her name was Martha Wilcox; she was a saucy woman, very

saucy; and she went and complained of me, without cause, to my mistress,

and made her angry with me. Mrs. Wood told me that if I did not mind what

I was about, she would get my master to strip me and give me fifty lashes:

"You have been used to the whip," she said, "and you shall have it here."

This was the first time she threatened to have me flogged; and she gave me

the threatening so strong of what she would have done to me, that I

thought I should have fallen down at her feet, I was so vexed and hurt by

her words. The mulatto woman was rejoiced to have power to keep me down.

She was constantly making mischief; there was no living for the slaves--no

peace after she came.



I was also sent by Mrs. Wood to be put in the Cage one night, and was next

morning flogged, by the magistrate's order, at her desire; and this all

for a quarrel I had about a pig with another slave woman. I was flogged on

my naked back on this occasion: although I was in no fault after all; for

old Justice Dyett, when we came before him, said that I was in the right,

and ordered the pig to be given to me. This was about two or three years

after I came to Antigua.



When we moved from the middle of the town to the Point, I used to be in

the house and do all the work and mind the children, though still very ill

with the rheumatism. Every week I had to wash two large bundles of

clothes, as much as a boy could help me to lift; but I could give no

satisfaction. My mistress was always abusing and fretting after me. It is

not possible to tell all her ill language.--One day she followed me foot

after foot scolding and rating me. I bore in silence a great deal of ill

words: at last my heart was quite full, and I told her that she ought not

to use me so;--that when I was ill I might have lain and died for what she

cared; and no one would then come near me to nurse me, because they were

afraid of my mistress. This was a great affront. She called her husband

and told him what I had said. He flew into a passion: but did not beat me

then; he only abused and swore at me; and then gave me a note and bade me

go and look for an owner. Not that he meant to sell me; but he did this to

please his wife and to frighten me. I went to Adam White, a cooper, a free

black, who had money, and asked him to buy me. He went directly to Mr.

Wood, but was informed that I was not to be sold. The next day my master

whipped me.



Another time (about five years ago) my mistress got vexed with me, because

I fell sick and I could not keep on with my work. She complained to her

husband, and he sent me off again to look for an owner. I went to a Mr.

Burchell, showed him the note, and asked him to buy me for my own benefit;

for I had saved about 100 dollars, and hoped, with a little help, to

purchase my freedom. He accordingly went to my master:--"Mr. Wood," he

said, "Molly has brought me a note that she wants an owner. If you intend

to sell her, I may as well buy her as another." My master put him off and

said that he did not mean to sell me. I was very sorry at this, for I had

no comfort with Mrs. Wood, and I wished greatly to get my freedom.



The way in which I made my money was this.--When my master and mistress

went from home, as they sometimes did, and left me to take care of the

house and premises, I had a good deal of time to myself, and made the most

of it. I took in washing, and sold coffee and yams and other provisions

to the captains of ships. I did not sit still idling during the absence of

my owners; for I wanted, by all honest means, to earn money to buy my

freedom. Sometimes I bought a hog cheap on board ship, and sold it for

double the money on shore; and I also earned a good deal by selling

coffee. By this means I by degrees acquired a little cash. A gentleman

also lent me some to help to buy my freedom--but when I could not get free

he got it back again. His name was Captain Abbot.



My master and mistress went on one occasion into the country, to Date

Hill, for change of air, and carried me with them to take charge of the

children, and to do the work of the house. While I was in the country, I

saw how the field negroes are worked in Antigua. They are worked very hard

and fed but scantily. They are called out to work before daybreak, and

come home after dark; and then each has to heave his bundle of grass for

the cattle in the pen. Then, on Sunday morning, each slave has to go out

and gather a large bundle of grass; and, when they bring it home, they

have all to sit at the manager's door and wait till he come out: often

have they to wait there till past eleven o'clock, without any breakfast.

After that, those that have yams or potatoes, or fire-wood to sell, hasten

to market to buy a dog's worth[10] of salt fish, or pork, which is a great

treat for them. Some of them buy a little pickle out of the shad barrels,

which they call sauce, to season their yams and Indian corn. It is very

wrong, I know, to work on Sunday or go to market; but will not God call

the Buckra men to answer for this on the great day of judgment--since they

will give the slaves no other day?



[Footnote 10: A dog is the 72nd part of a dollar.]



While we were at Date Hill Christmas came; and the slave woman who had the

care of the place (which then belonged to Mr. Roberts the marshal), asked

me to go with her to her husband's house, to a Methodist meeting for

prayer, at a plantation called Winthorps. I went; and they were the first

prayers I ever understood. One woman prayed; and then they all sung a

hymn; then there was another prayer and another hymn; and then they all

spoke by turns of their own griefs as sinners. The husband of the woman I

went with was a black driver. His name was Henry. He confessed that he had

treated the slaves very cruelly; but said that he was compelled to obey

the orders of his master. He prayed them all to forgive him, and he prayed

that God would forgive him. He said it was a horrid thing for a ranger[11]

to have sometimes to beat his own wife or sister; but he must do so if

ordered by his master.



[Footnote 11: The head negro of an estate--a person who has the chief

superintendence under the manager.]



I felt sorry for my sins also. I cried the whole night, but I was too much

ashamed to speak. I prayed God to forgive me. This meeting had a great

impression on my mind, and led my spirit to the Moravian church; so that

when I got back to town, I went and prayed to have my name put down in the

Missionaries' book; and I followed the church earnestly every opportunity.

I did not then tell my mistress about it; for I knew that she would not

give me leave to go. But I felt I _must_ go. Whenever I carried the

children their lunch at school, I ran round and went to hear the teachers.



The Moravian ladies (Mrs. Richter, Mrs. Olufsen, and Mrs. Sauter) taught

me to read in the class; and I got on very fast. In this class there were

all sorts of people, old and young, grey headed folks and children; but

most of them were free people. After we had done spelling, we tried to

read in the Bible. After the reading was over, the missionary gave out a

hymn for us to sing. I dearly loved to go to the church, it was so solemn.

I never knew rightly that I had much sin till I went there. When I found

out that I was a great sinner, I was very sorely grieved, and very much

frightened. I used to pray God to pardon my sins for Christ's sake, and

forgive me for every thing I had done amiss; and when I went home to my

work, I always thought about what I had heard from the missionaries, and

wished to be good that I might go to heaven. After a while I was admitted

a candidate for the holy Communion.--I had been baptized long before this,

in August 1817, by the Rev. Mr. Curtin, of the English Church, after I had

been taught to repeat the Creed and the Lord's Prayer. I wished at that

time to attend a Sunday School taught by Mr. Curtin, but he would not

receive me without a written note from my master, granting his permission.

I did not ask my owner's permission, from the belief that it would be

refused; so that I got no farther instruction at that time from the

English Church.[12]



[Footnote 12: She possesses a copy of Mrs. Trimmer's "Charity School

Spelling Book," presented to her by the Rev. Mr. Curtin, and dated August

30, 1817. In this book her name is written "Mary, Princess of Wales"--an

appellation which, she says, was given her by her owners. It is a common

practice with the colonists to give ridiculous names of this description

to their slaves; being, in fact, one of the numberless modes of expressing

the habitual contempt with which they regard the negro race.--In printing

this narrative we have retained Mary's paternal name of Prince.--_Ed._]



Some time after I began to attend the Moravian Church, I met with Daniel

James, afterwards my dear husband. He was a carpenter and cooper to his

trade; an honest, hard-working, decent black man, and a widower. He had

purchased his freedom of his mistress, old Mrs. Baker, with money he had

earned whilst a slave. When he asked me to marry him, I took time to

consider the matter over with myself, and would not say yes till he went

to church with me and joined the Moravians. He was very industrious after

he bought his freedom; and he had hired a comfortable house, and had

convenient things about him. We were joined in marriage, about Christmas

1826, in the Moravian Chapel at Spring Gardens, by the Rev. Mr. Olufsen.

We could not be married in the English Church. English marriage is not

allowed to slaves; and no free man can marry a slave woman.



When Mr. Wood heard of my marriage, he flew into a great rage, and sent

for Daniel, who was helping to build a house for his old mistress. Mr.

Wood asked him who gave him a right to marry a slave of his? My husband

said, "Sir, I am a free man, and thought I had a right to choose a wife;

but if I had known Molly was not allowed to have a husband, I should not

have asked her to marry me." Mrs. Wood was more vexed about my marriage

than her husband. She could not forgive me for getting married, but

stirred up Mr. Wood to flog me dreadfully with the horsewhip. I thought it

very hard to be whipped at my time of life for getting a husband--I told

her so. She said that she would not have nigger men about the yards and

premises, or allow a nigger man's clothes to be washed in the same tub

where hers were washed. She was fearful, I think, that I should lose her

time, in order to wash and do things for my husband: but I had then no

time to wash for myself; I was obliged to put out my own clothes, though I

was always at the wash-tub.



I had not much happiness in my marriage, owing to my being a slave. It

made my husband sad to see me so ill-treated. Mrs. Wood was always abusing

me about him. She did not lick me herself, but she got her husband to do

it for her, whilst she fretted the flesh off my bones. Yet for all this

she would not sell me. She sold five slaves whilst I was with her; but

though she was always finding fault with me, she would not part with me.

However, Mr. Wood afterwards allowed Daniel to have a place to live in our

yard, which we were very thankful for.



After this, I fell ill again with the rheumatism, and was sick a long

time; but whether sick or well, I had my work to do. About this time I

asked my master and mistress to let me buy my own freedom. With the help

of Mr. Burchell, I could have found the means to pay Mr. Wood; for it was

agreed that I should afterwards, serve Mr. Burchell a while, for the cash

he was to advance for me. I was earnest in the request to my owners; but

their hearts were hard--too hard to consent. Mrs. Wood was very angry--she

grew quite outrageous--she called me a black devil, and asked me who had

put freedom into my head. "To be free is very sweet," I said: but she took

good care to keep me a slave. I saw her change colour, and I left the

room.



About this time my master and mistress were going to England to put their

son to school, and bring their daughters home; and they took me with them

to take care of the child. I was willing to come to England: I thought

that by going there I should probably get cured of my rheumatism, and

should return with my master and mistress, quite well, to my husband. My

husband was willing for me to come away, for he had heard that my master

would free me,--and I also hoped this might prove true; but it was all a

false report.



The steward of the ship was very kind to me. He and my husband were in the

same class in the Moravian Church. I was thankful that he was so friendly,

for my mistress was not kind to me on the passage; and she told me, when

she was angry, that she did not intend to treat me any better in England

than in the West Indies--that I need not expect it. And she was as good as

her word.



When we drew near to England, the rheumatism seized all my limbs worse

than ever, and my body was dreadfully swelled. When we landed at the

Tower, I shewed my flesh to my mistress, but she took no great notice of

it. We were obliged to stop at the tavern till my master got a house; and

a day or two after, my mistress sent me down into the wash-house to learn

to wash in the English way. In the West Indies we wash with cold water--in

England with hot. I told my mistress I was afraid that putting my hands

first into the hot water and then into the cold, would increase the pain

in my limbs. The doctor had told my mistress long before I came from the

West Indies, that I was a sickly body and the washing did not agree with

me. But Mrs. Wood would not release me from the tub, so I was forced to do

as I could. I grew worse, and could not stand to wash. I was then forced

to sit down with the tub before me, and often through pain and weakness

was reduced to kneel or to sit down on the floor, to finish my task. When

I complained to my mistress of this, she only got into a passion as usual,

and said washing in hot water could not hurt any one;--that I was lazy and

insolent, and wanted to be free of my work; but that she would make me do

it. I thought her very hard on me, and my heart rose up within me. However

I kept still at that time, and went down again to wash the child's things;

but the English washerwomen who were at work there, when they saw that I

was so ill, had pity upon me and washed them for me.



After that, when we came up to live in Leigh Street, Mrs. Wood sorted out

five bags of clothes which we had used at sea, and also such as had been

worn since we came on shore, for me and the cook to wash. Elizabeth the

cook told her, that she did not think that I was able to stand to the tub,

and that she had better hire a woman. I also said myself, that I had come

over to nurse the child, and that I was sorry I had come from Antigua,

since mistress would work me so hard, without compassion for my

rheumatism. Mr. and Mrs. Wood, when they heard this, rose up in a passion

against me. They opened the door and bade me get out. But I was a

stranger, and did not know one door in the street from another, and was

unwilling to go away. They made a dreadful uproar, and from that day they

constantly kept cursing and abusing me. I was obliged to wash, though I

was very ill. Mrs. Wood, indeed once hired a washerwoman, but she was not

well treated, and would come no more.



My master quarrelled with me another time, about one of our great

washings, his wife having stirred him up to do so. He said he would compel

me to do the whole of the washing given out to me, or if I again refused,

he would take a short course with me: he would either send me down to the

brig in the river, to carry me back to Antigua, or he would turn me at

once out of doors, and let me provide for myself. I said I would willingly

go back, if he would let me purchase my own freedom. But this enraged him

more than all the rest: he cursed and swore at me dreadfully, and said he

would never sell my freedom--if I wished to be free, I was free in

England, and I might go and try what freedom would do for me, and be

d----d. My heart was very sore with this treatment, but I had to go on. I

continued to do my work, and did all I could to give satisfaction, but all

would not do.



Shortly after, the cook left them, and then matters went on ten times

worse. I always washed the child's clothes without being commanded to do

it, and any thing else that was wanted in the family; though still I was

very sick--very sick indeed. When the great washing came round, which was

every two months, my mistress got together again a great many heavy

things, such as bed-ticks, bed-coverlets, &c. for me to wash. I told her I

was too ill to wash such heavy things that day. She said, she supposed I

thought myself a free woman, but I was not; and if I did not do it

directly I should be instantly turned out of doors. I stood a long time

before I could answer, for I did not know well what to do. I knew that I

was free in England, but I did not know where to go, or how to get my

living; and therefore, I did not like to leave the house. But Mr. Wood

said he would send for a constable to thrust me out; and at last I took

courage and resolved that I would not be longer thus treated, but would go

and trust to Providence. This was the fourth time they had threatened turn

me out, and, go where I might, I was determined now to take them at their

word; though I thought it very hard, after I had lived with them for

thirteen years, and worked for them like a horse, to be driven out in this

way, like a beggar. My only fault was being sick, and therefore unable to

please my mistress, who thought she never could get work enough out of her

slaves; and I told them so: but they only abused me and drove me out. This

took place from two to three months, I think, after we came to England.



When I came away, I went to the man (one Mash) who used to black the shoes

of the family, and asked his wife to get somebody to go with me to Hatton

Garden to the Moravian Missionaries: these were the only persons I knew in

England. The woman sent a young girl with me to the mission house, and I

saw there a gentleman called Mr. Moore. I told him my whole story, and how

my owners had treated me, and asked him to take in my trunk with what few

clothes I had. The missionaries were very kind to me--they were sorry for

my destitute situation, and gave me leave to bring my things to be placed

under their care. They were very good people, and they told me to come to

the church.



When I went back to Mr. Wood's to get my trunk, I saw a lady, Mrs. Pell,

who was on a visit to my mistress. When Mr. and Mrs. Wood heard me come

in, they set this lady to stop me, finding that they had gone too far with

me. Mrs. Pell came out to me, and said, "Are you really going to leave,

Molly? Don't leave, but come into the country with me." I believe she said

this because she thought Mrs. Wood would easily get me back again. I

replied to her, "Ma'am, this is the fourth time my master and mistress

have driven me out, or threatened to drive me--and I will give them no

more occasion to bid me go. I was not willing to leave them, for I am a

stranger in this country, but now I must go--I can stay no longer to be so

used." Mrs. Pell then went up stairs to my mistress, and told that I would

go, and that she could not stop me. Mrs. Wood was very much hurt and

frightened when she found I was determined to go out that day. She said,

"If she goes the people will rob her, and then turn her adrift." She did

not say this to me, but she spoke it loud enough for me to hear; that it

might induce me not to go, I suppose. Mr. Wood also asked me where I was

going to. I told him where I had been, and that I should never have gone

away had I not been driven out by my owners. He had given me a written

paper some time before, which said that I had come with them to England by

my own desire; and that was true. It said also that I left them of my own

free will, because I was a free woman in England; and that I was idle and

would not do my work--which was not true. I gave this paper afterwards to

a gentleman who inquired into my case.[13]



[Footnote 13: See page 24.]



I went into the kitchen and got my clothes out. The nurse and the servant

girl were there, and I said to the man who was going to take out my trunk,

"Stop, before you take up this trunk, and hear what I have to say before

these people. I am going out of this house, as I was ordered; but I have

done no wrong at all to my owners, neither here nor in the West Indies. I

always worked very hard to please them, both by night and day; but there

was no giving satisfaction, for my mistress could never be satisfied with

reasonable service. I told my mistress I was sick, and yet she has ordered

me out of doors. This is the fourth time; and now I am going out."



And so I came out, and went and carried my trunk to the Moravians. I then

returned back to Mash the shoe-black's house, and begged his wife to take

me in. I had a little West Indian money in my trunk; and they got it

changed for me. This helped to support me for a little while. The man's

wife was very kind to me. I was very sick, and she boiled nourishing

things up for me. She also sent for a doctor to see me, and he sent me

medicine, which did me good, though I was ill for a long time with the

rheumatic pains. I lived a good many months with these poor people, and

they nursed me, and did all that lay in their power to serve me. The man

was well acquainted with my situation, as he used to go to and fro to Mr.

Wood's house to clean shoes and knives; and he and his wife were sorry for

me.



About this time, a woman of the name of Hill told me of the Anti-Slavery

Society, and went with me to their office, to inquire if they could do any

thing to get me my freedom, and send me back to the West Indies. The

gentlemen of the Society took me to a lawyer, who examined very strictly

into my case; but told me that the laws of England could do nothing to

make me free in Antigua[14]. However they did all they could for me: they

gave me a little money from time to time to keep me from want; and some of

them went to Mr. Wood to try to persuade him to let me return a free woman

to my husband; but though they offered him, as I have heard, a large sum

for my freedom, he was sulky and obstinate, and would not consent to let

me go free.



[Footnote 14: She came first to the Anti-Slavery Office in Aldermanbury,

about the latter end of November 1828; and her case was referred to Mr.

George Stephen to be investigated. More of this hereafter.--ED.]



This was the first winter I spent in England, and I suffered much from the

severe cold, and from the rheumatic pains, which still at times torment

me. However, Providence was very good to me, and I got many

friends--especially some Quaker ladies, who hearing of my case, came and

sought me out, and gave me good warm clothing and money. Thus I had great

cause to bless God in my affliction.



When I got better I was anxious to get some work to do, as I was unwilling

to eat the bread of idleness. Mrs. Mash, who was a laundress, recommended

me to a lady for a charwoman. She paid me very handsomely for what work I

did, and I divided the money with Mrs. Mash; for though very poor, they

gave me food when my own money was done, and never suffered me to want.



In the spring, I got into service with a lady, who saw me at the house

where I sometimes worked as a charwoman. This lady's name was Mrs.

Forsyth. She had been in the West Indies, and was accustomed to Blacks,

and liked them. I was with her six months, and went with her to Margate.

She treated me well, and gave me a good character when she left London.[15]



[Footnote 15: She refers to a written certificate which will be inserted

afterwards.]



After Mrs. Forsyth went away, I was again out of place, and went to

lodgings, for which I paid two shillings a week, and found coals and

candle. After eleven weeks, the money I had saved in service was all gone,

and I was forced to go back to the Anti-Slavery office to ask a supply,

till I could get another situation. I did not like to go back--I did not

like to be idle. I would rather work for my living than get it for

nothing. They were very good to give me a supply, but I felt shame at

being obliged to apply for relief whilst I had strength to work.



At last I went into the service of Mr. and Mrs. Pringle, where I have been

ever since, and am as comfortable as I can be while separated from my dear

husband, and away from my own country and all old friends and connections.

My dear mistress teaches me daily to read the word of God, and takes great

pains to make me understand it. I enjoy the great privilege of being

enabled to attend church three times on the Sunday; and I have met with

many kind friends since I have been here, both clergymen and others. The

Rev. Mr. Young, who lives in the next house, has shown me much kindness,

and taken much pains to instruct me, particularly while my master and

mistress were absent in Scotland. Nor must I forget, among my friends, the

Rev. Mr. Mortimer, the good clergyman of the parish, under whose ministry

I have now sat for upwards of twelve months. I trust in God I have

profited by what I have heard from him. He never keeps back the truth, and

I think he has been the means of opening my eyes and ears much better to

understand the word of God. Mr. Mortimer tells me that he cannot open the

eyes of my heart, but that I must pray to God to change my heart, and make

me to know the truth, and the truth will make me free.



I still live in the hope that God will find a way to give me my liberty,

and give me back to my husband. I endeavour to keep down my fretting, and

to leave all to Him, for he knows what is good for me better than I know

myself. Yet, I must confess, I find it a hard and heavy task to do so.



I am often much vexed, and I feel great sorrow when I hear some people in

this country say, that the slaves do not need better usage, and do not

want to be free.[16] They believe the foreign people,[17] who deceive them,

and say slaves are happy. I say, Not so. How can slaves be happy when they

have the halter round their neck and the whip upon their back? and are

disgraced and thought no more of than beasts?--and are separated from

their mothers, and husbands, and children, and sisters, just as cattle are

sold and separated? Is it happiness for a driver in the field to take down

his wife or sister or child, and strip them, and whip them in such a

disgraceful manner?--women that have had children exposed in the open

field to shame! There is no modesty or decency shown by the owner to his

slaves; men, women, and children are exposed alike. Since I have been here

I have often wondered how English people can go out into the West Indies

and act in such a beastly manner. But when they go to the West Indies,

they forget God and all feeling of shame, I think, since they can see and

do such things. They tie up slaves like hogs--moor[18] them up like cattle,

and they lick them, so as hogs, or cattle, or horses never were

flogged;--and yet they come home and say, and make some good people

believe, that slaves don't want to get out of slavery. But they put a

cloak about the truth. It is not so. All slaves want to be free--to be

free is very sweet. I will say the truth to English people who may read

this history that my good friend, Miss S----, is now writing down for me.

I have been a slave myself--I know what slaves feel--I can tell by myself

what other slaves feel, and by what they have told me. The man that says

slaves be quite happy in slavery--that they don't want to be free--that

man is either ignorant or a lying person. I never heard a slave say so. I

never heard a Buckra man say so, till I heard tell of it in England. Such

people ought to be ashamed of themselves. They can't do without slaves,

they say. What's the reason they can't do without slaves as well as in

England? No slaves here--no whips--no stocks--no punishment, except for

wicked people. They hire servants in England; and if they don't like them,

they send them away: they can't lick them. Let them work ever so hard in

England, they are far better off than slaves. If they get a bad master,

they give warning and go hire to another. They have their liberty. That's

just what we want. We don't mind hard work, if we had proper treatment,

and proper wages like English servants, and proper time given in the week

to keep us from breaking the Sabbath. But they won't give it: they will

have work--work--work, night and day, sick or well, till we are quite done

up; and we must not speak up nor look amiss, however much we be abused.

And then when we are quite done up, who cares for us, more than for a lame

horse? This is slavery. I tell it, to let English people know the truth;

and I hope they will never leave off to pray God, and call loud to the

great King of England, till all the poor blacks be given free, and slavery

done up for evermore.



[Footnote 16: The whole of this paragraph especially, is given as nearly as

was possible in Mary's precise words.]



[Footnote 17: She means West Indians.]



[Footnote 18: A West Indian phrase: to fasten or tie up.]









SUPPLEMENT



TO THE



HISTORY OF MARY PRINCE.



BY THE EDITOR.





Leaving Mary's narrative, for the present, without comment to the reader's

reflections, I proceed to state some circumstances connected with her case

which have fallen more particularly under my own notice, and which I

consider it incumbent now to lay fully before the public.



About the latter end of November, 1828, this poor woman found her way to

the office of the Anti-Slavery Society in Aldermanbury, by the aid of a

person who had become acquainted with her situation, and had advised her

to apply there for advice and assistance. After some preliminary

examination into the accuracy of the circumstances related by her, I went

along with her to Mr. George Stephen, solicitor, and requested him to

investigate and draw up a statement of her case, and have it submitted to

counsel, in order to ascertain whether or not, under the circumstances,

her freedom could be legally established on her return to Antigua. On this

occasion, in Mr. Stephen's presence and mine, she expressed, in very

strong terms, her anxiety to return thither if she could go as a free

person, and, at the same time, her extreme apprehensions of the fate that

would probably await her if she returned as a slave. Her words were, "I

would rather go into my grave than go back a slave to Antigua, though I

wish to go back to my husband very much--very much--very much! I am much

afraid my owners would separate me from my husband, and use me very hard,

or perhaps sell me for a field negro;--and slavery is too too bad. I would

rather go into my grave!"



The paper which Mr. Wood had given her before she left his house, was

placed by her in Mr. Stephen's hands. It was expressed in the following

terms:--



     "I have already told Molly, and now give it her in writing,

     in order that there may be no misunderstanding on her part,

     that as I brought her from Antigua at her own request and

     entreaty, and that she is consequently now free, she is of

     course at liberty to take her baggage and go where she

     pleases. And, in consequence of her late conduct, she must

     do one of two things--either quit the house, or return to

     Antigua by the earliest opportunity, as she does not evince

     a disposition to make herself useful. As she is a stranger

     in London, I do not wish to turn her out, or would do so,

     as two female servants are sufficient for my establishment.

     If after this she does remain, it will be only during her

     good behaviour: but on no consideration will I allow her

     wages or any other remuneration for her services.



     "JOHN A. WOOD."



     "London, August 18, 1828."



This paper, though not devoid of inconsistencies, which will be apparent

to any attentive reader, is craftily expressed; and was well devised to

serve the purpose which the writer had obviously in view, namely, to

frustrate any appeal which the friendless black woman might make to the

sympathy of strangers, and thus prevent her from obtaining an asylum, if

she left his house, from any respectable family. As she had no one to

refer to for a character in this country except himself, he doubtless

calculated securely on her being speedily driven back, as soon as the

slender fund she had in her possession was expended, to throw herself

unconditionally upon his tender mercies; and his disappointment in this

expectation appears to have exasperated his feelings of resentment towards

the poor woman, to a degree which few persons alive to the claims of

common justice, not to speak of christianity or common humanity, could

easily have anticipated. Such, at least, seems the only intelligible

inference that can be drawn from his subsequent conduct.



The case having been submitted, by desire of the Anti-Slavery Committee,

to the consideration of Dr. Lushington and Mr. Sergeant Stephen, it was

found that there existed no legal means of compelling Mary's master to

grant her manumission; and that if she returned to Antigua, she would

inevitably fall again under his power, or that of his attorneys, as a

slave. It was, however, resolved to try what could be effected for her by

amicable negotiation; and with this view Mr. Ravenscroft, a solicitor,

(Mr. Stephen's relative,) called upon Mr. Wood, in order to ascertain

whether he would consent to Mary's manumission on any reasonable terms,

and to refer, if required, the amount of compensation for her value to

arbitration. Mr. Ravenscroft with some difficulty obtained one or two

interviews, but found Mr. Wood so full of animosity against the woman, and

so firmly bent against any arrangement having her freedom for its object,

that the negotiation was soon broken off as hopeless. The angry

slave-owner declared "that he would not move a finger about her in this

country, or grant her manumission on any terms whatever; and that if she

went back to the West Indies, she must take the consequences."



This unreasonable conduct of Mr. Wood, induced the Anti-Slavery Committee,

after several other abortive attempts to effect a compromise, to think of

bringing the case under the notice of Parliament. The heads of Mary's

statement were accordingly engrossed in a Petition, which Dr. Lushington

offered to present, and to give notice at the same time of his intention

to bring in a Bill to provide for the entire emancipation of all slaves

brought to England with the owner's consent. But before this step was

taken, Dr. Lushington again had recourse to negotiation with the master;

and, partly through the friendly intervention of Mr. Manning, partly by

personal conference, used every persuasion in his power to induce Mr. Wood

to relent and let the bondwoman go free. Seeing the matter thus seriously

taken up, Mr. Wood became at length alarmed,--not relishing, it appears,

the idea of having the case publicly discussed in the House of Commons;

and to avert this result he submitted to temporize--assumed a demeanour of

unwonted civility, and even hinted to Mr. Manning (as I was given to

understand) that if he was not driven to utter hostility by the threatened

exposure, he would probably meet our wishes "in his own time and way."

Having gained time by these manoeuvres, he adroitly endeavoured to cool

the ardour of Mary's new friends, in her cause, by representing her as an

abandoned and worthless woman, ungrateful towards him, and undeserving of

sympathy from others; allegations which he supported by the ready

affirmation of some of his West India friends, and by one or two plausible

letters procured from Antigua. By these and like artifices he appears

completely to have imposed on Mr. Manning, the respectable West India

merchant whom Dr. Lushington had asked to negotiate with him; and he

prevailed so far as to induce Dr. Lushington himself (actuated by the

benevolent view of thereby best serving Mary's cause,) to abstain from any

remarks upon his conduct when the petition was at last presented in

Parliament. In this way he dextrously contrived to neutralize all our

efforts, until the close of the Session of 1829; soon after which he

embarked with his family for the West Indies.



Every exertion for Mary's relief having thus failed; and being fully

convinced from a twelvemonth's observation of her conduct, that she was

really a well-disposed and respectable woman; I engaged her, in December

1829, as a domestic servant in my own family. In this capacity she has

remained ever since; and I am thus enabled to speak of her conduct and

character with a degree of confidence I could not have otherwise done. The

importance of this circumstance will appear in the sequel.



From the time of Mr. Wood's departure to Antigua, in 1829, till June or

July last, no farther effort was attempted for Mary's relief. Some faint

hope was still cherished that this unconscionable man would at length

relent, and "in his own time and way," grant the prayer of the exiled

negro woman. After waiting, however, nearly twelve months longer, and

seeing the poor woman's spirits daily sinking under the sickening

influence of hope deferred, I resolved on a final attempt in her behalf,

through the intervention of the Moravian Missionaries, and of the Governor

of Antigua. At my request, Mr. Edward Moore, agent of the Moravian

Brethren in London, wrote to the Rev. Joseph Newby, their Missionary in

that island, empowering him to negotiate in his own name with Mr. Wood for

Mary's manumission, and to procure his consent, if possible, upon terms of

ample pecuniary compensation. At the same time the excellent and

benevolent William Allen, of the Society of Friends, wrote to Sir Patrick

Ross, the Governor of the Colony, with whom he was on terms of friendship,

soliciting him to use his influence in persuading Mr. Wood to consent: and

I confess I was sanguine enough to flatter myself that we should thus at

length prevail. The result proved, however, that I had not yet fully

appreciated the character of the man we had to deal with.



Mr. Newby's answer arrived early in November last, mentioning that he had

done all in his power to accomplish our purpose, but in vain; and that if

Mary's manumission could not be obtained without Mr. Wood's consent, he

believed there was no prospect of its ever being effected.



A few weeks afterwards I was informed by Mr. Allen, that he had received a

letter from Sir Patrick Ross, stating that he also had used his best

endeavours in the affair, but equally without effect. Sir Patrick at the

same time inclosed a letter, addressed by Mr. Wood to his Secretary, Mr.

Taylor, assigning his reasons for persisting in this extraordinary course.

This letter requires our special attention. Its tenor is as follows:--



     "My dear Sir,



     "In reply to your note relative to the woman Molly, I beg

     you will have the kindness to oblige me by assuring his

     Excellency that I regret exceedingly my inability to comply

     with his request, which under other circumstances would

     afford me very great pleasure.



     "There are many and powerful reasons for inducing me to

     refuse my sanction to her returning here in the way she

     seems to wish. It would be to reward the worst species of

     ingratitude, and subject myself to insult whenever she came

     in my way. Her moral character is very bad, as the police

     records will shew; and she would be a very troublesome

     character should she come here without any restraint. She is

     not a native of this country, and I know of no relation she

     has here. I induced her to take a husband, a short time

     before she left this, by providing a comfortable house in my

     yard for them, and prohibiting her going out after 10 to 12

     o'clock (our bed-time) without special leave. This she

     considered the greatest, and indeed the only, grievance she

     ever complained of, and all my efforts could not prevent it.

     In hopes of inducing her to be steady to her husband, who

     was a free man, I gave him the house to occupy during our

     absence; but it appears the attachment was too loose to bind

     her, and he has taken another wife: so on that score I do

     her no injury.--In England she made her election, and

     quitted my family. This I had no right to object to; and I

     should have thought no more of it, but not satisfied to

     leave quietly, she gave every trouble and annoyance in her

     power, and endeavoured to injure the character of my family

     by the most vile and infamous falsehoods, which was embodied

     in a petition to the House of Commons, and would have been

     presented, had not my friends from this island, particularly

     the Hon. Mr. Byam and Dr. Coull, come forward, and disproved

     what she had asserted.



     "It would be beyond the limits of an ordinary letter to

     detail her baseness, though I will do so should his

     Excellency wish it; but you may judge of her depravity by

     one circumstance, which came out before Mr. Justice Dyett,

     in a quarrel with another female.



       *       *       *       *       *



     "Such a thing I could not have believed possible.[19]



     [Footnote 19: I omit the circumstance here mentioned, because

     it is too indecent to appear in a publication likely to be

     perused by females. It is, in all probability, a vile

     calumny; but even if it were perfectly true, it would not

     serve Mr. Wood's case one straw.--Any reader who wishes it,

     may see the passage referred to, in the autograph letter in

     my possession. T. P.]



     "Losing her value as a slave in a pecuniary point of view I

     consider of no consequence; for it was our intention, had

     she conducted herself properly and returned with us, to have

     given her freedom. She has taken her freedom; and all I wish

     is, that she would enjoy it without meddling with me.



     "Let me again repeat, if his Excellency wishes it, it will

     afford me great pleasure to state such particulars of her,

     and which will be incontestably proved by numbers here, that

     I am sure will acquit me in his opinion of acting unkind or

     ungenerous towards her. I'll say nothing of the liability I

     should incur, under the Consolidated Slave Law, of dealing

     with a free person as a slave.



     "My only excuse for entering so much into detail must be

     that of my anxious wish to stand justified in his

     Excellency's opinion.



     "I am, my dear Sir,

     Yours very truly,

     JOHN A. WOOD.

     "_20th Oct. 1830_."



     "_Charles Taylor, Esq._

     _&c. &c. &c._



     "I forgot to mention that it was at her own special request

     that she accompanied me to England--and also that she had a

     considerable sum of money with her, which she had saved in

     my service. I knew of L36 to L40, at least, for I had some

     trouble to recover it from a white man, to whom she had lent

     it.



     "J. A. W."



Such is Mr. Wood's justification of his conduct in thus obstinately

refusing manumission to the Negro-woman who had escaped from his "house of

bondage."



Let us now endeavour to estimate the validity of the excuses assigned, and

the allegations advanced by him, for the information of Governor Sir

Patrick Ross, in this deliberate statement of his case.



1. To allow the woman to return home free, would, he affirms "be to reward

the worst species of ingratitude."



He assumes, it seems, the sovereign power of pronouncing a virtual

sentence of banishment, for the alleged crime of ingratitude. Is this then

a power which any man ought to possess over his fellow-mortal? or which

any good man would ever wish to exercise? And, besides, there is no

evidence whatever, beyond Mr. Wood's mere assertion, that Mary Prince owed

him or his family the slightest mark of gratitude. Her account of the

treatment she received in his service, _may_ be incorrect; but her simple

statement is at least supported by minute and feasible details, and,

unless rebutted by positive facts, will certainly command credence from

impartial minds more readily than his angry accusation, which has

something absurd and improbable in its very front. Moreover, is it not

absurd to term the assertion of her _natural rights_ by a slave,--even

supposing her to have been kindly dealt with by her "owners," and treated

in every respect the reverse of what Mary affirms to have been her

treatment by Mr. Wood and his wife,--"the _worst_ species of ingratitude?"

This may be West Indian ethics, but it will scarcely be received as sound

doctrine in Europe.



2. To permit her return would be "to subject himself to insult whenever

she came in his way."



This is a most extraordinary assertion. Are the laws of Antigua then so

favourable to the free blacks, or the colonial police so feebly

administered, that there are no sufficient restraints to protect a rich

colonist like Mr. Wood,--a man who counts among his familiar friends the

Honourable Mr. Byam, and Mr. Taylor the Government Secretary,--from being

insulted by a poor Negro-woman? It is preposterous.



3. Her moral character is so bad, that she would prove very troublesome

should she come to the colony "without any restraint."



"Any restraint?" Are there no restraints (supposing them necessary) short

of absolute slavery to keep "troublesome characters" in order? But this, I

suppose, is the _argumentum ad gubernatorem_--to frighten the governor.

She is such a termagant, it seems, that if she once gets back to the

colony _free_, she will not only make it too hot for poor Mr. Wood, but

the police and courts of justice will scarce be a match for her! Sir

Patrick Ross, no doubt, will take care how he intercedes farther for so

formidable a virago! How can one treat such arguments seriously?



4. She is not a native of the colony, and he knows of no relation she has

there.



True: But was it not her home (so far as a slave can have a home) for

thirteen or fourteen years? Were not the connexions, friendships, and

associations of her mature life formed there? Was it not there she hoped

to spend her latter years in domestic tranquillity with her husband, free

from the lash of the taskmaster? These considerations may appear light to

Mr. Wood, but they are every thing to this poor woman.



5. He induced her, he says, to take a husband, a short time before she

left Antigua, and gave them a comfortable house in his yard, &c. &c.



This paragraph merits attention. He "_induced her to take a husband_?" If

the fact were true, what brutality of mind and manners does it not

indicate among these slave-holders? They refuse to legalize the marriages

of their slaves, but _induce_ them to form such temporary connexions as

may suit the owner's conveniency, just as they would pair the lower

animals; and this man has the effrontery to tell us so! Mary, however,

tells a very different story, (see page 17;) and her assertion,

independently of other proof, is at least as credible as Mr. Wood's. The

reader will judge for himself as to the preponderance of internal evidence

in the conflicting statements.



6. He alleges that she was, before marriage, licentious, and even depraved

in her conduct, and unfaithful to her husband afterwards.



These are serious charges. But if true, or even partially true, how comes

it that a person so correct in his family hours and arrangements as Mr.

Wood professes to be, and who expresses so edifying a horror of

licentiousness, could reconcile it to his conscience to keep in the bosom

of his family so _depraved_, as well as so _troublesome_ a character for

at least thirteen years, and confide to her for long periods too the

charge of his house and the care of his children--for such I shall shew to

have been the facts? How can he account for not having rid himself with

all speed, of so disreputable an inmate--he who values her loss so little

"in a pecuniary point of view?" How can he account for having sold _five

other slaves_ in that period, and yet have retained this shocking

woman--nay, even have refused to sell her, on more than one occasion, when

offered her full value? It could not be from ignorance of her character,

for the circumstance which he adduces as a proof of her shameless

depravity, and which I have omitted on account of its indecency, occurred,

it would appear, not less than _ten years ago_. Yet, notwithstanding her

alleged ill qualities and habits of gross immorality, he has not only

constantly refused to part with her; but after thirteen long years, brings

her to England as an attendant on his wife and children, with the avowed

intention of carrying her back along with his maiden daughter, a young

lady returning from school! Such are the extraordinary facts; and until

Mr. Wood shall reconcile these singular inconsistencies between his

actions and his allegations, he must not be surprised if we in England

prefer giving credit to the former rather than the latter; although at

present it appears somewhat difficult to say which side of the alternative

is the more creditable to his own character.



7. Her husband, he says, has taken another wife; "so that on that score,"

he adds, "he does her no injury."



Supposing this fact be true, (which I doubt, as I doubt every mere

assertion from so questionable a quarter,) I shall take leave to put a

question or two to Mr. Wood's conscience. Did he not write from England to

his friend Mr. Darrel, soon after Mary left his house, directing him to

turn her husband, Daniel James, off his premises, on account of her

offence; telling him to inform James at the same time that his wife had

_taken up_ with another man, who had robbed her of all she had--a calumny

as groundless as it was cruel? I further ask if the person who invented

this story (whoever he may be,) was not likely enough to impose similar

fabrications on the poor negro man's credulity, until he may have been

induced to prove false to his marriage vows, and to "take another wife,"

as Mr. Wood coolly expresses it? But withal, I strongly doubt the fact of

Daniel James' infidelity; for there is now before me a letter from himself

to Mary, dated in April 1830, couched in strong terms of conjugal

affection; expressing his anxiety for her speedy return, and stating that

he had lately "received a grace" (a token of religious advancement) in the

Moravian church, a circumstance altogether incredible if the man were

living in open adultery, as Mr. Wood's assertion implies.



8. Mary, he says, endeavoured to injure the character of his family by

infamous falsehoods, which were embodied in a petition to the House of

Commons, and would have been presented, had not his friends from Antigua,

the Hon. Mr. Byam, and Dr. Coull, disproved her assertions.



I can say something on this point from my own knowledge. Mary's petition

contained simply a brief statement of her case, and, among other things,

mentioned the treatment she had received from Mr. and Mrs. Wood. Now the

principal facts are corroborated by other evidence, and Mr. Wood must

bring forward very different testimony from that of Dr. Coull before

well-informed persons will give credit to his contradiction. The value of

that person's evidence in such cases will be noticed presently. Of the

Hon. Mr. Byam I know nothing, and shall only at present remark that it is

not likely to redound greatly to his credit to appear in such company.

Furthermore, Mary's petition _was_ presented, as Mr. Wood ought to know;

though it was not discussed, nor his conduct exposed as it ought to have

been.



9. He speaks of the liability he should incur, under the Consolidated

Slave Law, of dealing with a free person as a slave.



Is not this pretext hypocritical in the extreme? What liability could he

possibly incur by voluntarily resigning the power, conferred on him by an

iniquitous colonial law, of re-imposing the shackles of slavery on the

bondwoman from whose limbs they had fallen when she touched the free soil

of England?--There exists no liability from which he might not have been

easily secured, or for which he would not have been fully compensated.



He adds in a postscript that Mary had a considerable sum of money with

her,--from L36 to L40 at least, which she had saved in his service. The

fact is, that she had at one time 113 dollars in cash; but only a very

small portion of that sum appears to have been brought by her to England,

the rest having been partly advanced, as she states, to assist her

husband, and partly lost by being lodged in unfaithful custody.



Finally, Mr. Wood repeats twice that it will afford him great pleasure to

state for the governor's satisfaction, if required, such particulars of

"the woman Molly," upon incontestable evidence, as he is sure will acquit

him in his Excellency's opinion "of acting unkind or ungenerous towards

her."



This is well: and I now call upon Mr. Wood to redeem his pledge;--to bring

forward facts and proofs fully to elucidate the subject;--to reconcile, if

he can, the extraordinary discrepancies which I have pointed out between

his assertions and the actual facts, and especially between his account of

Mary Prince's character and his own conduct in regard to her. He has now

to produce such a statement as will acquit him not only in the opinion of

Sir Patrick Ross, but of the British public. And in this position he has

spontaneously placed himself, in attempting to destroy, by his deliberate

criminatory letter, the poor woman's fair fame and reputation,--an attempt

but for which the present publication would probably never have appeared.



       *       *       *       *       *



Here perhaps we might safely leave the case to the judgment of the public;

but as this negro woman's character, not the less valuable to her because

her condition is so humble, has been so unscrupulously blackened by her

late master, a party so much interested and inclined to place her in the

worst point of view,--it is incumbent on me, as her advocate with the

public, to state such additional testimony in her behalf as I can fairly

and conscientiously adduce.



My first evidence is Mr. Joseph Phillips, of Antigua. Having submitted to

his inspection Mr. Wood's letter and Mary Prince's narrative, and

requested his candid and deliberate sentiments in regard to the actual

facts of the case, I have been favoured with the following letter from him

on the subject:--



     "London, January 18, 1831.



     "Dear Sir,



     "In giving you my opinion of Mary Prince's narrative, and of

     Mr. Wood's letter respecting her, addressed to Mr. Taylor, I

     shall first mention my opportunities of forming a proper

     estimate of the conduct and character of both

     parties.



     "I have known Mr. Wood since his first arrival in Antigua in

     1803. He was then a poor young man, who had been brought up

     as a ship carpenter in Bermuda. He was afterwards raised to

     be a clerk in the Commissariat department, and realised

     sufficient capital to commence business as a merchant. This

     last profession he has followed successfully for a good many

     years, and is understood to have accumulated very

     considerable wealth. After he entered into trade, I had

     constant intercourse with him in the way of business; and in

     1824 and 1825, I was regularly employed on his premises as

     his clerk; consequently, I had opportunities of seeing a

     good deal of his character both as a merchant, and as a

     master of slaves. The former topic I pass over as irrelevant

     to the present subject: in reference to the latter, I shall

     merely observe that he was not, in regard to ordinary

     matters, more severe than the ordinary run of slave owners;

     but, if seriously offended, he was not of a disposition to

     be easily appeased, and would spare no cost or sacrifice to

     gratify his vindictive feelings. As regards the exaction of

     work from domestic slaves, his wife was probably more severe

     than himself--it was almost impossible for the slaves ever

     to give her entire satisfaction.



     "Of their slave Molly (or Mary) I know less than of Mr. and

     Mrs. Wood; but I saw and heard enough of her, both while I

     was constantly employed on Mr. Wood's premises, and while I

     was there occasionally on business, to be quite certain that

     she was viewed by her owners as their most respectable and

     trustworthy female slave. It is within my personal knowledge

     that she had usually the charge of the house in their

     absence, was entrusted with the keys, &c.; and was always

     considered by the neighbours and visitors as their

     confidential household servant, and as a person in whose

     integrity they placed unlimited confidence,--although when

     Mrs. Wood was at home, she was no doubt kept pretty closely

     at washing and other hard work. A decided proof of the

     estimation in which she was held by her owners exists in the

     fact that Mr. Wood uniformly refused to part with her,

     whereas he sold five other slaves while she was with them.

     Indeed, she always appeared to me to be a slave of superior

     intelligence and respectability; and I always understood

     such to be her general character in the place.



     "As to what Mr. Wood alleges about her being frequently

     before the police, &c. I can only say I never heard of the

     circumstance before; and as I lived for twenty years in the

     same small town, and in the vicinity of their residence, I

     think I could scarcely have failed to become acquainted with

     it, had such been the fact. She might, however, have been

     occasionally before the magistrate in consequence of little

     disputes among the slaves, without any serious imputation on

     her general respectability. She says she was twice summoned

     to appear as a witness on such occasions; and that she was

     once sent by her mistress to be confined in the Cage, and

     was afterwards flogged by her desire. This cruel practice is

     very common in Antigua; and, in my opinion, is but little

     creditable to the slave owners and magistrates by whom such

     arbitrary punishments are inflicted, frequently for very

     trifling faults. Mr. James Scotland is the only magistrate

     in the colony who invariably refuses to sanction this

     reprehensible practice.



     "Of the immoral conduct ascribed to Molly by Mr. Wood, I can

     say nothing further than this--that I have heard she had at

     a former period (previous to her marriage) a connexion with

     a white person, a Capt. ----, which I have no doubt was

     broken off when she became seriously impressed with

     religion. But, at any rate, such connexions are so common, I

     might almost say universal, in our slave colonies, that

     except by the missionaries and a few serious persons, they

     are considered, if faults at all, so very venial as scarcely

     to deserve the name of immorality. Mr. Wood knows this

     colonial estimate of such connexions as well as I do; and,

     however false such an estimate must be allowed to be,

     especially When applied to their own conduct by persons of

     education, pretending to adhere to the pure Christian rule

     of morals,--yet when he ascribes to a negro slave, to whom

     legal marriage was denied, such great criminality for laxity

     of this sort, and professes to be so exceedingly shocked and

     amazed at the tale he himself relates, he must, I am

     confident, have had a farther object in view than the

     information of Mr. Taylor or Sir Patrick Ross. He must, it

     is evident, have been aware that his letter would be sent to

     Mr. Allen, and accordingly adapted it, as more important

     documents from the colonies are often adapted, _for effect

     in England_. The tale of the slave Molly's immoralities, be

     assured, was not intended for Antigua so much as for Stoke

     Newington, and Peckham, and Aldermanbury.



     "In regard to Mary's narrative generally, although I cannot

     speak to the accuracy of the details, except in a few recent

     particulars, I can with safety declare that I see no reason

     to question the truth of a single fact stated by her, or

     even to suspect her in any instance of intentional

     exaggeration. It bears in my judgment the genuine stamp of

     truth and nature. Such is my unhesitating opinion, after a

     residence of twenty-seven years in the West Indies.



     "I remain, &c.

     "JOSEPH PHILLIPS."



     _To T. Pringle, Esq._



     "P.S. As Mr. Wood refers to the evidence of Dr. T. Coull in

     opposition to Mary's assertions, it may be proper to enable

     you justly to estimate the worth of that person's evidence

     in cases connected with the condition and treatment of

     slaves. You are aware that in 1829, Mr. M'Queen of Glasgow,

     in noticing a Report of the "Ladies' Society of Birmingham

     for the relief of British Negro Slaves," asserted with his

     characteristic audacity, that the statement which it

     contained respecting distressed and deserted slaves in

     Antigua was "an abominable falsehood." Not contented with

     this, and with insinuating that I, as agent of the society

     in the distribution of their charity in Antigua, had

     fraudulently duped them out of their money by a fabricated

     tale of distress, Mr. M'Queen proceeded to libel me in the

     most opprobrious terms, as "a man of the most worthless and

     abandoned character."[20] Now I know from good authority that

     it was _upon Dr. Coull's information_ that Mr. M'Queen

     founded this impudent contradiction of notorious facts, and

     this audacious libel of my personal character. From this

     single circumstance you may judge of the value of his

     evidence in the case of Mary Prince. I can furnish further

     information respecting Dr. Coull's colonial proceedings,

     both private and judicial, should circumstances require it."

     "J. P."



     [Footnote 20: In elucidation of the circumstances above

     referred to, I subjoin the following extracts from the Report

     of the Birmingham Ladies' Society for 1830:--



     "As a portion of the funds of this association has been

     appropriated to assist the benevolent efforts of a society

     which has for fifteen years afforded relief to distressed

     and deserted slaves in Antigua, it may not be uninteresting

     to our friends to learn the manner in which the agent of

     this society has been treated for simply obeying the command

     of our Saviour, by ministering, like the good Samaritan, to

     the distresses of the helpless and the desolate. The

     society's proceedings being adverted to by a friend of

     Africa, at one of the public meetings held in this country,

     a West Indian planter, who was present, wrote over to his

     friends in Antigua, and represented the conduct of the

     distributors of this charity in such a light, that it was

     deemed worthy of the cognizance of the House of Assembly.

     Mr. Joseph Phillips, a resident of the island, who had most

     kindly and disinterestedly exerted himself in the

     distribution of the money from England among the poor

     deserted slaves, was brought before the Assembly, and most

     severely interrogated: on his refusing to deliver up his

     private correspondence with his friends in England, he was

     thrown into a loathsome jail, where he was kept for nearly

     five months; while his loss of business, and the oppressive

     proceedings instituted against him, were involving him in

     poverty and ruin. On his discharge by the House of Assembly,

     he was seized in their lobby for debt, and again

     imprisoned."



     "In our report for the year 1826, we quoted a passage from

     the 13th Report of the Society for the relief of deserted

     Slaves in the island of Antigua, in reference to a case of

     great distress. This statement fell into the hands of Mr.

     M'Queen, the Editor of the Glasgow Courier. Of the

     consequences resulting from this circumstance we only gained

     information through the Leicester Chronicle, which had

     copied an article from the Weekly Register of Antigua, dated

     St. John's, September 22, 1829. We find from this that Mr.

     M'Queen affirms, that 'with the exception of the fact that

     the society is, as it deserves to be, duped out of its

     money, the whole tale' (of the distress above referred to)

     'is an abominable falsehood.' This statement, which we are

     informed has appeared in many of the public papers, is

     COMPLETELY REFUTED in our Appendix, No. 4, to which

     we refer our readers. Mr. M'Queen's statements, we regret to

     say, would lead many to believe that there are no deserted

     Negroes to assist; and that the case mentioned was a perfect

     fabrication. He also distinctly avers, that the

     disinterested and humane agent of the society, Mr. Joseph

     Phillips, is 'a man of the most worthless and abandoned

     character.' In opposition to this statement, we learn the

     good character of Mr. Phillips from those who have long been

     acquainted with his laudable exertions in the cause of

     humanity, and from the Editor of the Weekly Register of

     Antigua, who speaks, on his own knowledge, of more than

     twenty years back; confidently appealing at the same time to

     the inhabitants of the colony in which he resides for the

     truth of his averments, and producing a testimonial to Mr.

     Phillips's good character signed by two members of the

     Antigua House of Assembly, and by Mr. Wyke, the collector of

     his Majesty's customs, and by Antigua merchants, as

     follows--'that they have been acquainted with him the last

     four years and upwards, and he has always conducted himself

     in an upright becoming manner--his character we know to be

     unimpeached, and his morals unexceptionable.'



              (Signed)  "Thomas Saunderson   John D. Taylor

                         John A. Wood        George Wyke

                         Samuel L. Darrel     Giles S. Musson

                                 Robert Grant."



     "St. John's, Antigua, June 28, 1825."



In addition to the above testimonies, Mr. Phillips has brought over to

England with him others of a more recent date, from some of the most

respectable persons in Antigua--sufficient to cover with confusion all his

unprincipled calumniators. See also his account of his own case in the

Anti-Slavery Reporter, No. 74, p. 69.]



I leave the preceding letter to be candidly weighed by the reader in

opposition to the inculpatory allegations of Mr. Wood--merely remarking

that Mr. Wood will find it somewhat difficult to impugn the evidence of

Mr. Phillips, whose "upright," "unimpeached," and "unexceptionable"

character, he has himself vouched for in unqualified terms, by affixing

his signature to the testimonial published in the Weekly Register of

Antigua in 1825. (See Note below.)



The next testimony in Mary's behalf is that of Mrs. Forsyth, a lady in

whose service she spent the summer of 1829.--(See page 21.) This lady, on

leaving London to join her husband, voluntarily presented Mary with a

certificate, which, though it relates only to a recent and short period of

her history, is a strong corroboration of the habitual respectability of

her character. It is in the following terms:--



     "Mrs. Forsyth states, that the bearer of this paper (Mary

     James,) has been with her for the last six months; that she

     has found her an excellent character, being honest,

     industrious, and sober; and that she parts with her on no

     other account than this--that being obliged to travel with

     her husband, who has lately come from abroad in bad health,

     she has no farther need of a servant. Any person Wishing to

     engage her, can have her character in full from Miss Robson,

     4, Keppel Street, Russel Square, whom Mrs. Forsyth has

     requested to furnish particulars to any one desiring them.



     "4, Keppel Street, 28th Sept. 1829."



In the last place, I add my own testimony in behalf of this negro woman.

Independently of the scrutiny, which, as Secretary of the Anti-Slavery

Society, I made into her case when she first applied for assistance, at

18, Aldermanbury, and the watchful eye I kept upon her conduct for the

ensuing twelvemonths, while she was the occasional pensioner of the

Society, I have now had the opportunity of closely observing her conduct

for fourteen months, in the situation of a domestic servant in my own

family; and the following is the deliberate opinion of Mary's character,

formed not only by myself, but also by my wife and sister-in-law, after

this ample period of observation. We have found her perfectly honest and

trustworthy in all respects; so that we have no hesitation in leaving

every thing in the house at her disposal. She had the entire charge of the

house during our absence in Scotland for three months last autumn, and

conducted herself in that charge with the utmost discretion and fidelity.

She is not, it is true, a very expert housemaid, nor capable of much hard

work, (for her constitution appears to be a good deal broken,) but she is

careful, industrious, and anxious to do her duty and to give satisfaction.

She is capable of strong attachments, and feels deep, though unobtrusive,

gratitude for real kindness shown her. She possesses considerable natural

sense, and has much quickness of observation and discrimination of

character. She is remarkable for _decency_ and _propriety_ of conduct--and

her _delicacy_, even in trifling minutiae, has been a trait of special

remark by the females of my family. This trait, which is obviously quite

unaffected, would be a most inexplicable anomaly, if her former habits had

been so indecent and depraved as Mr. Wood alleges. Her chief faults, so

far as we have discovered them, are, a somewhat violent and hasty temper,

and a considerable share of natural pride and self-importance; but these

defects have been but rarely and transiently manifested, and have scarcely

occasioned an hour's uneasiness at any time in our household. Her

religious knowledge, notwithstanding the pious care of her Moravian

instructors in Antigua, is still but very limited, and her views of

christianity indistinct; but her profession, whatever it may have of

imperfection, I am convinced, has nothing of insincerity. In short, we

consider her on the whole as respectable and well-behaved a person in her

station, as any domestic, white or black, (and we have had ample

experience of both colours,) that we have ever had in our service.



But after all, Mary's character, important though its exculpation be to

her, is not really the point of chief practical interest in this case.

Suppose all Mr. Wood's defamatory allegations to be true--suppose him to

be able to rake up against her out of the records of the Antigua police,

or from the veracious testimony of his brother colonists, twenty stories

as bad or worse than what he insinuates--suppose the whole of her own

statement to be false, and even the whole of her conduct since she came

under our observation here to be a tissue of hypocrisy;--suppose all

this--and leave the negro woman as black in character as in

complexion,[21]--yet it would affect not the main facts--which are

these.--1. Mr. Wood, not daring in England to punish this woman

arbitrarily, as he would have done in the West Indies, drove her out of

his house, or left her, at least, only the alternative of returning

instantly to Antigua, with the certainty of severe treatment there, or

submitting in silence to what she considered intolerable usage in his

household. 2. He has since obstinately persisted in refusing her

manumission, to enable her to return home in security, though repeatedly

offered more than ample compensation for her value as a slave; and this on

various frivolous pretexts, but really, and indeed not unavowedly, in

order to _punish_ her for leaving his service in England, though he

himself had professed to give her that option. These unquestionable facts

speak volumes.[22]



[Footnote 21: If it even were so, how strong a plea of palliation might not

the poor negro bring, by adducing the neglect of her various owners to

afford religious instruction or moral discipline, and the habitual

influence of their evil _example_ (to say the very least,) before her

eyes? What moral good could she possibly learn--what moral evil could she

easily escape, while under the uncontrolled power of such masters as she

describes Captain I---- and Mr. D---- of Turk's Island? All things

considered, it is indeed wonderful to find her such as she now is. But as

she has herself piously expressed it, "that God whom then she knew not

mercifully preserved her for better things."]



[Footnote 22: Since the preceding pages were printed off, I have been

favoured with a communication from the Rev. J. Curtin, to whom among other

acquaintances of Mr. Wood's in this country, the entire proof sheets of

this pamphlet had been sent for inspection. Mr. Curtin corrects some

omissions and inaccuracies in Mary Prince's narrative (see page 17,) by

stating, 1. That she was baptized, not in August, but on the 6th of April,

1817; 2. That sometime before her baptism, on her being admitted a

catechumen, preparatory to that holy ordinance, she brought a note from

her owner, Mr. Wood, recommending her for religious instruction, &c.; 3.

That it was his usual practice, when any adult slaves came on _week days_

to school, to require their owners' permission for their attendance; but

that on _Sundays_ the chapel was open indiscriminately to all.--Mary,

after a personal interview with Mr. Curtin, and after hearing his letter

read by me, still maintains that Mr. Wood's note recommended her for

baptism merely, and that she never received any religious instruction

whatever from Mr. and Mrs. Wood, or from any one else at that period

beyond what she has stated in her narrative. In regard to her

non-admission to the Sunday school without permission from her owners, she

admits that she may possibly have mistaken the clergyman's meaning on that

point, but says that such was certainly her impression at the time, and

the actual cause of her non-attendance.



Mr. Curtin finds in his books some reference to Mary's connection with a

Captain ----, (the individual, I believe, alluded to by Mr. Phillips at

page 32); but he states that when she attended his chapel she was always

decently and becomingly dressed, and appeared to him to be in a situation

of trust in her mistress's family.



Mr. Curtin offers no comment on any other part of Mary's statement; but he

speaks in very favourable, though general terms of the respectability of

Mr. Wood, whom he had known for many years in Antigua; and of Mrs. Wood,

though she was not personally known to him, he says, that he had "heard

her spoken of by those of her acquaintance, as a lady of very mild and

amiable manners."



Another friend of Mr. and Mrs. Wood, a lady who had been their guest both

in Antigua and England, alleges that Mary has grossly misrepresented them

in her narrative; and says that she "can vouch for their being the most

benevolent, kind-hearted people that can possibly live." She has declined,

however, to furnish me with any written correction of the

misrepresentations she complains of, although I offered to insert her

testimony in behalf of her friends, if sent to me in time. And having

already kept back the publication a fortnight waiting for communications

of this sort, I will not delay it longer. Those who have withheld their

strictures have only themselves to blame.



Of the general character of Mr. and Mrs. Wood, I would not designedly give

any _unfair_ impression. Without implicitly adopting either the _ex parte_

view of Mary Prince, or the unmeasured encomiums of their friends, I am

willing to believe them to be, on the whole, fair, perhaps favourable,

specimens of colonial character. Let them even be rated, if you will, in

the very highest and most benevolent class of slave-holders; and, laying

everything else entirely out of view, let Mr. Wood's conduct in this

affair be tried exclusively by the facts established beyond dispute, and

by his own statement of the case in his letter to Mr. Taylor. But then, I

ask, if the very _best_ and _mildest_ of your slave-owners can act as Mr.

Wood is proved to have acted, what is to be expected of persons whose

mildness, or equity, or common humanity no one will dare to vouch for? If

such things are done in the green tree, what will be done in the dry?--And

what else then can Colonial Slavery possibly be, even in its best estate,

but a system incurably evil and iniquitous?--I require no other data--I

need add no further comment.]



The case affords a most instructive illustration of the true spirit of the

slave system, and of the pretensions of the slave-holders to assert, not

merely their claims to a "vested right" in the _labour_ of their bondmen,

but to an indefeasible property in them as their "absolute chattels." It

furnishes a striking practical comment on the assertions of the West

Indians that self-interest is a sufficient check to the indulgence of

vindictive feelings in the master; for here is a case where a man (a

_respectable_ and _benevolent_ man as his friends aver,) prefers losing

entirely the full price of the slave, for the mere satisfaction of

preventing a poor black woman from returning home to her husband! If the

pleasure of thwarting the benevolent wishes of the Anti-Slavery Society in

behalf of the deserted negro, be an additional motive with Mr. Wood, it

will not much mend his wretched plea.



       *       *       *       *       *



I may here add a few words respecting the earlier portion of Mary Prince's

narrative. The facts there stated must necessarily rest entirely,--since

we have no collateral evidence,--upon their intrinsic claims to

probability, and upon the reliance the reader may feel disposed, after

perusing the foregoing pages, to place on her veracity. To my judgment,

the internal evidence of the truth of her narrative appears remarkably

strong. The circumstances are related in a tone of natural sincerity, and

are accompanied in almost every case with characteristic and minute

details, which must, I conceive, carry with them full conviction to every

candid mind that this negro woman has actually seen, felt, and suffered

all that she so impressively describes; and that the picture she has given

of West Indian slavery is not less true than it is revolting.



But there may be some persons into whose hands this tract may fall, so

imperfectly acquainted with the real character of Negro Slavery, as to be

shocked into partial, if not absolute incredulity, by the acts of inhuman

oppression and brutality related of Capt. I---- and his wife, and of Mr.

D----, the salt manufacturer of Turk's Island. Here, at least, such

persons may be disposed to think, there surely must be _some_

exaggeration; the facts are too shocking to be credible. The facts are

indeed shocking, but unhappily not the less credible on that account.

Slavery is a curse to the oppressor scarcely less than to the oppressed:

its natural tendency is to brutalize both. After a residence myself of six

years in a slave colony, I am inclined to doubt whether, as regards its

_demoralizing_ influence, the master is not even a greater object of

compassion than his bondman. Let those who are disposed to doubt the

atrocities related in this narrative, on the testimony of a sufferer,

examine the details of many cases of similar barbarity that have lately

come before the public, on unquestionable evidence. Passing over the

reports of the Fiscal of Berbice,[23] and the Mauritius horrors recently

unveiled,[24] let them consider the case of Mr. and Mrs. Moss, of the

Bahamas, and their slave Kate, so justly denounced by the Secretary for

the Colonies;[25]--the cases of Eleanor Mead,[26]--of Henry

Williams,[27]--and of the Rev. Mr. Bridges and Kitty Hylton,[28] in

Jamaica. These cases alone might suffice to demonstrate the inevitable

tendency of slavery as it exists in our colonies, to brutalize the master

to a truly frightful degree--a degree which would often cast into the

shade even the atrocities related in the narrative of Mary Prince; and

which are sufficient to prove, independently of all other evidence, that

there is nothing in the revolting character of the facts to affect their

credibility; but that on the contrary, similar deeds are at this very time

of frequent occurrence in almost every one of our slave colonies. The

system of coercive labour may vary in different places; it may be more

destructive to human life in the cane culture of Mauritius and Jamaica,

than in the predial and domestic bondage of Bermuda or the Bahamas,--but

the spirit and character of slavery are every where the same, and cannot

fail to produce similar effects. Wherever slavery prevails, there will

inevitably be found cruelty and oppression. Individuals who have preserved

humane, and amiable, and tolerant dispositions towards their black

dependents, may doubtless be found among slave-holders; but even where a

happy instance of this sort occurs, such as Mary's first mistress, the

kind-hearted Mrs. Williams, the favoured condition of the slave is still

as precarious as it is rare: it is every moment at the mercy of events;

and must always be held by a tenure so proverbially uncertain as that of

human prosperity, or human life. Such examples, like a feeble and

flickering streak of light in a gloomy picture, only serve by contrast to

exhibit the depth of the prevailing shades. Like other exceptions, they

only prove the general rule: the unquestionable tendency of the system is

to vitiate the best tempers, and to harden the most feeling hearts. "Never

be kind, nor speak kindly to a slave," said an accomplished English lady

in South Africa to my wife: "I have now," she added, "been for some time a

slave-owner, and have found, from vexatious experience in my own

household, that nothing but harshness and hauteur will do with slaves."



[Footnote 23: See Anti-Slavery Reporter, Nos. 5 and 16.]



[Footnote 24: Ibid, No. 44.]



[Footnote 25: Ibid, No. 47.]



[Footnote 26: Ibid, No. 64, p. 345; No. 71, p. 481.]



[Footnote 27: Ibid, No. 65, p. 356; No. 69, p. 431.]



[Footnote 28: Anti-Slavery Reporter, Nos. 66, 69, and 76.]



I might perhaps not inappropriately illustrate this point more fully by

stating many cases which fell under my own personal observation, or became

known to me through authentic sources, at the Cape of Good Hope--a colony

where slavery assumes, as it is averred, a milder aspect than in any other

dependency of the empire where it exists; and I could shew, from the

judicial records of that colony, received by me within these few weeks,

cases scarcely inferior in barbarity to the worst of those to which I have

just specially referred; but to do so would lead me too far from the

immediate purpose of this pamphlet, and extend it to an inconvenient

length. I shall therefore content myself with quoting a single short

passage from the excellent work of my friend Dr. Walsh, entitled "Notices

of Brazil,"--a work which, besides its other merits, has vividly

illustrated the true spirit of Negro Slavery, as it displays itself not

merely in that country, but wherever it has been permitted to open its

Pandora's box of misery and crime.



Let the reader ponder on the following just remarks, and compare the facts

stated by the Author in illustration of them, with the circumstances

related at pages 6 and 7 of Mary's narrative:--



     "If then we put out of the question the injury inflicted on

     others, and merely consider the deterioration of feeling and

     principle with which it operates on ourselves, ought it not

     to be a sufficient, and, indeed, unanswerable argument,

     against the permission of Slavery?



     "The exemplary manner in which the paternal duties are

     performed at home, may mark people as the most fond and

     affectionate parents; but let them once go abroad, and come

     within the contagion of slavery, and it seems to alter the

     very nature of a man; and the father has sold, and still

     sells, the mother and his children, with as little

     compunction as he would a sow and her litter of pigs; and he

     often disposes of them together.



     "This deterioration of feeling is conspicuous in many ways

     among the Brazilians. They are naturally a people of a

     humane and good-natured disposition, and much indisposed to

     cruelty or severity of any kind. Indeed, the manner in which

     many of them treat their slaves is a proof of this, as it is

     really gentle and considerate; but the natural tendency to

     cruelty and oppression in the human heart, is continually

     evolved by the impunity and uncontrolled licence in which

     they are exercised. I never walked through the streets of

     Rio, that some house did not present to me the semblance of

     a bridewell, where the moans and the cries of the sufferers,

     and the sounds of whips and scourges within, announced to me

     that corporal punishment was being inflicted. Whenever I

     remarked this to a friend, I was always answered that the

     refractory nature of the slave rendered it necessary, and no

     house could properly be conducted unless it was practised.

     But this is certainly not the case; and the chastisement is

     constantly applied in the very wantonness of barbarity, and

     would not, and dared not, be inflicted on the humblest

     wretch in society, if he was not a slave, and so put out of

     the pale of pity.



     "Immediately joining our house was one occupied by a

     mechanic, from which the most dismal cries and moans

     constantly proceeded. I entered the shop one day, and found

     it was occupied by a saddler, who had two negro boys working

     at his business. He was a tawny, cadaverous-looking man,

     with a dark aspect; and he had cut from his leather a

     scourge like a Russian knout, which he held in his hand, and

     was in the act of exercising on one of the naked children in

     an inner room: and this was the cause of the moans and cries

     we heard every day, and almost all day long.



     "In the rear of our house was another, occupied by some

     women of bad character, who kept, as usual, several negro

     slaves. I was awoke early one morning by dismal cries, and

     looking out of the window, I saw in the back yard of the

     house, a black girl of about fourteen years old; before her

     stood her mistress, a white woman, with a large stick in her

     hand. She was undressed except her petticoat and chemise,

     which had fallen down and left her shoulders and bosom bare.

     Her hair was streaming behind, and every fierce and

     malevolent passion was depicted in her face. She too, like

     my hostess at Governo [another striking illustration of the

     _dehumanizing_ effects of Slavery,] was the very

     representation of a fury. She was striking the poor girl,

     whom she had driven up into a corner, where she was on her

     knees appealing for mercy. She shewed her none, but

     continued to strike her on the head and thrust the stick

     into her face, till she was herself exhausted, and her poor

     victim covered with blood. This scene was renewed every

     morning, and the cries and moans of the poor suffering

     blacks, announced that they were enduring the penalty of

     slavery, in being the objects on which the irritable and

     malevolent passions of the whites are allowed to vent

     themselves with impunity; nor could I help deeply deploring

     that state of society in which the vilest characters in the

     community are allowed an almost uncontrolled power of life

     and death, over their innocent, and far more estimable

     fellow-creatures."--(Notices of Brazil, vol. ii. p.

     354-356.)



       *       *       *       *       *



In conclusion, I may observe that the history of Mary Prince furnishes a

corollary to Lord Stowell's decision in the case of the slave Grace, and

that it is most valuable on this account. Whatever opinions may be held by

some readers on the grave question of immediately abolishing Colonial

Slavery, nothing assuredly can be more repugnant to the feelings of

Englishmen than that the system should be permitted to extend its baneful

influence to this country. Yet such is the case, when the slave landed in

England still only possesses that qualified degree of freedom, that a

change of domicile will determine it. Though born a British subject, and

resident within the shores of England, he is cut off from his dearest

natural rights by the sad alternative of regaining them at the expence of

liberty, and the certainty of severe treatment. It is true that he has the

option of returning; but it is a cruel mockery to call it a voluntary

choice, when upon his return depend his means of subsistence and his

re-union with all that makes life valuable. Here he has tasted "the sweets

of freedom," to quote the words of the unfortunate Mary Prince; but if he

desires to restore himself to his family, or to escape from suffering and

destitution, and the other evils of a climate uncongenial to his

constitution and habits, he must abandon the enjoyment of his

late-acquired liberty, and again subject himself to the arbitrary power of

a vindictive master.



The case of Mary Prince is by no means a singular one; many of the same

kind are daily occurring: and even if the case were singular, it would

still loudly call for the interference of the legislature. In instances of

this kind no injury can possibly be done to the owner by confirming to the

slave his resumption of his natural rights. It is the master's spontaneous

act to bring him to this country; he knows when he brings him that he

divests himself of his property; and it is, in fact, a minor species of

slave trading, when he has thus enfranchised his slave, to _re-capture_

that slave by the necessities of his condition, or by working upon the

better feelings of his heart. Abstractedly from all legal technicalities,

there is no real difference between thus compelling the return of the

enfranchised negro, and trepanning a free native of England by delusive

hopes into perpetual slavery. The most ingenious casuist could not point

out any essential distinction between the two cases. Our boasted liberty

is the dream of imagination, and no longer the characteristic of our

country, if its bulwarks can thus be thrown down by colonial special

pleading. It would well become the character of the present Government to

introduce a Bill into the Legislature making perpetual that freedom which

the slave has acquired by his passage here, and thus to declare, in the

most ample sense of the words, (what indeed we had long fondly believed to

be the fact, though it now appears that we have been mistaken,) THAT

NO SLAVE CAN EXIST WITHIN THE SHORES OF GREAT BRITAIN.









NARRATIVE OF LOUIS ASA-ASA,



A CAPTURED AFRICAN.





The following interesting narrative is a convenient supplement to the

history of Mary Prince. It is given, like hers, as nearly as possible in

the narrator's words, with only so much correction as was necessary to

connect the story, and render it grammatical. The concluding passage in

inverted commas, is entirely his own.



While Mary's narrative shews the disgusting character of colonial slavery,

this little tale explains with equal force the horrors in which it

originates.



It is necessary to explain that Louis came to this country about five

years ago, in a French vessel called the Pearl. She had lost her

reckoning, and was driven by stress of weather into the port of St. Ives,

in Cornwall. Louis and his four companions were brought to London upon a

writ of Habeas Corpus at the instance of Mr. George Stephen; and, after

some trifling opposition on the part of the master of the vessel, were

discharged by Lord Wynford. Two of his unfortunate fellow-sufferers died

of the measles at Hampstead; the other two returned to Sierra Leone; but

poor Louis, when offered the choice of going back to Africa, replied, "Me

no father, no mother now; me stay with you." And here he has ever since

remained; conducting himself in a way to gain the good will and respect of

all who know him. He is remarkably intelligent, understands our language

perfectly, and can read and write well. The last sentences of the

following narrative will seem almost too peculiar to be his own; but it is

not the first time that in conversation with Mr. George Stephen, he has

made similar remarks. On one occasion in particular, he was heard saying

to himself in the kitchen, while sitting by the fire apparently in deep

thought, "Me think,--me think----" A fellow-servant inquired what he

meant; and he added, "Me think what a good thing I came to England! Here,

I know what God is, and read my Bible; in my country they have no God, no

Bible."



How severe and just a reproof to the guilty wretches who visit his country

only with fire and sword! How deserved a censure upon the not less guilty

men, who dare to vindicate the state of slavery, on the lying pretext,

that its victims are of an inferior nature! And scarcely less deserving of

reprobation are those who have it in their power to prevent these crimes,

but who remain inactive from indifference, or are dissuaded from throwing

the shield of British power over the victim of oppression, by the

sophistry, and the clamour, and the avarice of the oppressor. It is the

reproach and the sin of England. May God avert from our country the ruin

which this national guilt deserves!



We lament to add, that the Pearl which brought these negroes to our shore,

was restored to its owners at the instance of the French Government,

instead of being condemned as a prize to Lieut. Rye, who, on his own

responsibility, detained her, with all her manacles and chains and other

detestable proofs of her piratical occupation on board. We trust it is not

yet too late to demand investigation into the reasons for restoring her.





_The Negro Boy's Narrative._





My father's name was Clashoquin; mine is Asa-Asa. He lived in a country

called Bycla, near Egie, a large town. Egie is as large as Brighton; it

was some way from the sea. I had five brothers and sisters. We all lived

together with my father and mother; he kept a horse, and was respectable,

but not one of the great men. My uncle was one of the great men at Egie:

he could make men come and work for him: his name was Otou. He had a great

deal of land and cattle. My father sometimes worked on his own land, and

used to make charcoal. I was too little to work; my eldest brother used to

work on the land; and we were all very happy.



A great many people, whom we called Adinyes, set fire to Egie in the

morning before daybreak; there were some thousands of them. They killed a

great many, and burnt all their houses. They staid two days, and then

carried away all the people whom they did not kill.



They came again every now and then for a month, as long as they could find

people to carry away. They used to tie them by the feet, except when they

were taking them off, and then they let them loose; but if they offered to

run away, they would shoot them. I lost a great many friends and relations

at Egie; about a dozen. They sold all they carried away, to be slaves. I

know this because I afterwards saw them as slaves on the other side of the

sea. They took away brothers, and sisters, and husbands, and wives; they

did not care about this. They were sold for cloth or gunpowder, sometimes

for salt or guns; sometimes they got four or five guns for a man: they

were English guns, made like my master's that I clean for his shooting.

The Adinyes burnt a great many places besides Egie. They burnt all the

country wherever they found villages; they used to shoot men, women, and

children, if they ran away.



They came to us about eleven o'clock one day, and directly they came they

set our house on fire. All of us had run away. We kept together, and went

into the woods, and stopped there two days. The Adinyes then went away,

and we returned home and found every thing burnt. We tried to build a

little shed, and were beginning to get comfortable again. We found

several of our neighbours lying about wounded; they had been shot. I saw

the bodies of four or five little children whom they had killed with blows

on the head. They had carried away their fathers and mothers, but the

children were too small for slaves, so they killed them. They had killed

several others, but these were all that I saw. I saw them lying in the

street like dead dogs.



In about a week after we got back, the Adinyes returned, and burnt all the

sheds and houses they had left standing. We all ran away again; we went to

the woods as we had done before.--They followed us the next day. We went

farther into the woods, and staid there about four days and nights; we

were half starved; we only got a few potatoes. My uncle Otou was with us.

At the end of this time, the Adinyes found us. We ran away. They called my

uncle to go to them; but he refused, and they shot him immediately: they

killed him. The rest of us ran on, and they did not get at us till the

next day. I ran up into a tree: they followed me and brought me down. They

tied my feet. I do not know if they found my father and mother, and

brothers and sisters: they had run faster than me, and were half a mile

farther when I got up into the tree: I have never seen them since.--There

was a man who ran up into the tree with me: I believe they shot him, for I

never saw him again.



They carried away about twenty besides me. They carried us to the sea.

They did not beat us: they only killed one man, who was very ill and too

weak to carry his load: they made all of us carry chickens and meat for

our food; but this poor man could not carry his load, and they ran him

through the body with a sword.--He was a neighbour of ours. When we got to

the sea they sold all of us, but not to the same person. They sold us for

money; and I was sold six times over, sometimes for money, sometimes for

cloth, and sometimes for a gun. I was about thirteen years old. It was

about half a year from the time I was taken, before I saw the white

people.



We were taken in a boat from place to place, and sold at every place we

stopped at. In about six months we got to a ship, in which we first saw

white people: they were French. They bought us. We found here a great many

other slaves; there were about eighty, including women and children. The

Frenchmen sent away all but five of us into another very large ship. We

five staid on board till we got to England, which was about five or six

months. The slaves we saw on board the ship were chained together by the

legs below deck, so close they could not move. They were flogged very

cruelly: I saw one of them flogged till he died; we could not tell what

for. They gave them enough to eat. The place they were confined in below

deck was so hot and nasty I could not bear to be in it. A great many of

the slaves were ill, but they were not attended to. They used to flog me

very bad on board the ship: the captain cut my head very bad one time.



"I am very happy to be in England, as far as I am very well;--but I have

no friend belonging to me, but God, who will take care of me as he has

done already. I am very glad I have come to England, to know who God is. I

should like much to see my friends again, but I do not now wish to go back

to them: for if I go back to my own country, I might be taken as a slave

again. I would rather stay here, where I am free, than go back to my

country to be sold. I shall stay in England as long as (please God) I

shall live. I wish the King of England could know all I have told you. I

wish it that he may see how cruelly we are used. We had no king in our

country, or he would have stopt it. I think the king of England might stop

it, and this is why I wish him to know it all. I have heard say he is

good; and if he is, he will stop it if he can. I am well off myself, for I

am well taken care of, and have good bed and good clothes; but I wish my

own people to be as comfortable."





"LOUIS ASA-ASA."



"_London, January 31, 1831_."













End of Project Gutenberg's The History of Mary Prince, by Mary Prince