{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_65033/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_65033","id":"gutenberg_65033","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/65033","summary":null,"tags":["African Americans -- Biography","Black, Leonard, 1822-1883","Category: Biographies","Category: History - American","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Fugitive slaves -- United States -- Biography"],"text":"THE LIFE AND SUFFERINGS OF LEONARD BLACK, A FUGITIVE FROM SLAVERY.\n\nWRITTEN BY HIMSELF.\n\nNEW BEDFORD: PRESS OF BENJAMIN LINDSEY. 1847.\n\n\n\n\nNOTICE.\n\n\nDoubts having been expressed upon sundry matters connected with the\nfollowing little narrative, Mr. Black has requested me to say a few\nwords concerning its authorship and claims to belief.\n\nThe book was written substantially by Mr. Black himself, but, in\nconsequence of his deficiency of education--growing out of the\nfact that his childhood and youth were spent in slavery--it needed\nconsiderable correction to fit it for the press. This work was\nkindly performed, gratuitously, by a friend of the author, who was,\nhowever, very careful to preserve the narrative as nearly unchanged\nas possible--confining himself mostly to punctuating, correcting the\northography, striking out unnecessary words and sentences, &c. &c.\n\nI am well acquainted with Mr. Black, and have the fullest confidence\nin the truth of his narrative, as has the friend who assisted him in\npreparing it for the press, and, indeed, every one who knows him.\n\nA. M. MACY.\n\nNantucket, October 30th, 1847.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nIn putting this little volume before the public, it is well, perhaps,\nthat I should speak of my motive.\n\nBorn and reared in slavery, I was, of course, deprived of education;\nand believing that I can be of service to the public in the ministry,\nI have published this account of my life and sufferings, with the hope\nthat I might realize a sufficient sum from its sale, to enable me to\nprocure a greater degree of education, thereby increasing my usefulness\nas a preacher.\n\nWith this simple statement I present myself to the humane, in the hope\nthat I may not appeal in vain.\n\nLEONARD BLACK.\n\nApril, 1847.\n\n\n\n\nLIFE AND SUFFERINGS\n\nOF\n\nLEONARD BLACK.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\n\nIt is my object to give to the reader a plain, simple narrative of the\nmore interesting portion of my life, while in slavery.\n\nI was born in Annarundel County, State of Maryland, about sixty miles\nbelow Baltimore, and lived a slave more than twenty years. My old\nmaster was a physician, but I think it prudent to withhold his name.\nNo one, who has always enjoyed the right of liberty, can realize the\nhorrors of slavery. To be at the will of another, to be _owned_ like\na cow or horse, and liable at any moment to be sold to the highest\nbidder, to be transported to a distant part of the country, leaving\nthe dearest relatives behind; to be, in fine, ground down mentally and\nphysically by the untold curses of slavery, may be a very pretty thing\nto the masters of the \u201cpeculiar institution,\u201d but it is death to the\nslaves.\n\nAfter more than twenty years of bondage, God delivered me from it, with\na strong hand and an outstretched arm, as he did Israel of old.\n\nAs near as I can remember, my mother and sister were sold and taken\nto New Orleans, leaving four brothers and myself behind. We were all\nplaced out. At six years of age I was placed with a Mr. Bradford,\nseparated from my father, mother and family. But the eye of God was\nupon me, and blessed me. My master was a carpenter, and much from\nhome--Mrs. Bradford beat me so much that her husband sent me to his\nfather\u2019s. Mrs. Bradford ordered me one day to take a bushel of corn\nup stairs; but I was unable to do it, upon which she knocked me\ndown with the johnny-cake board, cutting my head so badly that it\nbled more than a quart. It was then that I thought of my mother. My\nlittle friends--who have your liberty, and the protecting hand of\nparents--these are some of the fruits of slavery; let your hearts warm\nwith gratitude to the great Giver of all good, for the blessings you\nenjoy. Mrs. Bradford had a son about ten years old; she used to make\nhim beat me and spit in my face. Here I was, a poor slave boy, without\nfather or mother to take my part.\n\nAt the end of two years, Mrs. Bradford beat me so much, that her\nhusband, fearing she would kill me, placed me at his father\u2019s, where I\nremained until the death of the old gentleman. But old Mr. Bradford was\nworse than Mrs. Bradford! He had been a professor of religion, a class\nleader in the Methodist Church, but at this time he was a backslider;\nyea, a wanderer from God, and as cold as though he had never been\nwarmed by the vivifying power of the religion of Jesus Christ.\n\nI lived in this family seven and a half years, and when I left I was\nthirteen years old. During this time I had no hat, no pantaloons, but\none pair of shoes, and wore a lindsey slip only. I was not allowed\nto sit down while I ate my meals. For my breakfast I had a pint of\npot liquor, half a herring, and a little piece of bread. Whether this\nwould stay the cravings of a young appetite or not, there was no more\nto be had. For my dinner I had a pint of pot liquor, and the skin off\nof the pork. I must say as the colored people say at the south, when\nsinging to cheer their hearts while under the burning sun, and the\ncrack of the whip, remembering what is placed before them every day for\nfood--\u201cMy old master is a hard-hearted man; he eats the meat, and gives\npoor nigger bones.\u201d At night I had a bit of bread for my supper, and\na piece of carpet for my bed, spread down on the hearth, winter and\nsummer. In the winter, when the fire got low, I used to burn my feet by\ngetting them into the embers.\n\nMy work, in the winter time, was to fetch wood from the swamp up to the\nhouse. Being without shoes or hat, and thinly clad, I used to go into\nthe house to warm myself. When in the house for this purpose, at one\ntime, old Mr. Bradford followed me in, and said: \u201cIf you want to be\nwarmed, I\u2019ll warm you.\u201d He took the tongs, heated them in the fire, and\nbranded my legs; and the scars are there to this day. I could not sit\ndown in consequence of the wound. He whipped me also, and used to put\nmy head under the fence.\n\nChristians! I beseech you, do not become backsliders; especially\nslave-holding Christians! for the terrible effects of backsliding,\nslave-holding Christianity are awfully developed in my history!\n\nShortly after this, the death of this man delivered me from his hands.\nI rejoiced. God only knows whether he went to perdition. With all my\nheart I have forgiven him. I expect to meet him at the bar of God with\nthe scars and the tongs. Farewell, Mr. Bradford! But this is not all.\nHe left all his property to his daughter Elizabeth; and her brother\nNathan, a tax-gatherer, was overseer of the farm for her. One year\nafter her father\u2019s death, Elizabeth got married to Wm. Gardener, a\ngentleman from Baltimore, a member of the Methodist Church. I then\nthought I should have a good master. But oh, my soul! it was worse and\nworse! All is not gold that shines, nor silver that glitters. He had\nnot been married a great while before my heart beat and my feet burned.\nHe was a collier, engaged in burning charcoal, and used to draw it to\nthe village landing, and sometimes to Baltimore.\n\nOne day he left me twenty-five bushels of coal to draw. By being\nbroken of my rest the night previous, engaged in watching the coal pit,\nI was tired and sleepy. When I had drawn all the coal out, supposing\nI had put the fire out, I laid down to rest my weary limbs. The coal\nburned up. Mr. Gardner came into the woods where I lay asleep, hallooed\nand scared me up; he struck me with the shovel, and cut my head so that\nI knew nothing for two days. I was so weak from the loss of blood, that\nhe was compelled to carry me home on his shoulders, covering himself\nwith blood. His wife was very much alarmed. We were about a mile from\nhome, and he told me not to speak of it.\n\nAt another time, he cut my head with a hoe handle, so that altogether\nI was sick for a long time. Mr. Gardner had a very quick temper, and\nwould strike me with anything he happened to have in his hand, reckless\nof consequences.\n\nOne day, Eliza (a slave girl of his,) and myself, went into the\nwater-melon patch, procured a melon and ate it. We were compelled to\nthis by the promptings of hunger, for the living had not altered since\nthe death of Mr. Bradford. Eliza was about eighteen years of age.\nFor that offence, our cruel master stripped us and tied us both up\ntogether, and whipped us till the blood ran down on the ground in a\npuddle.\n\nWhen I was sick, he used to send me into the place where they smoked\nmeat, for fear I should vomit on the floor. On Wednesdays, there were\nmeetings in the meeting-house, and Mr. Gardner used to make me stay\naway from the house, for the minister would come home with him, and he\nwas fearful I should tell him of his cruel treatment. He did not say as\nHagar of old--\u201cThou, God, seest me.\u201d\n\nOne day he sent me to drive the horse from the peach tree. The horse\nkicked me in the head, and I was laid up six months. My head was\nsewed up; and I also received a great many knocks in the side, from\nthe effects of which I have not yet recovered! On one occasion, he\nstruck me in the mouth with an iron-toothed rake, which knocked out\none of my front teeth. All this time, my more fortunate reader, I was\na poor slave boy, with no one to pity me, with no parents to take my\npart. I had no father; no mother! But God pitied me. The eye of the\nall-merciful God, without whose notice not a sparrow falls to the\nground, was upon me. He it was that bore my feeble spirit up, when my\nlacerated and quivering frame was writhing under the God-defying curse\nof slavery.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\n\nIn the midst of all this trouble and gloom, my heart was made glad by\nlearning that my old master had come to take me home, at the expiration\nof thirteen years. Mr. Gardner and my old master had a long talk about\nme, for I was a miserable looking object with burnt feet. I bade Mr.\nGardner good bye, and expect to meet him at the judgment seat, when\nslave and master appear before the great Judge of all, with equal\nrights.\n\nMy old master took me to Baltimore, where we arrived in two days. He\nasked me if I wanted a hat. I had never had one, and received one which\ncost twenty-five cents as joyfully as though it had cost eight dollars.\nWe were then twenty-two miles from home. The old man asked me if I ever\ndrank brandy. I said no. He said it was a good thing, and when I saw\nhim drunk, I might get so too. But I could not get spirit if I wanted\nit ever so much, though I saw him drink many glasses, and have known\nhim to have a barrel of whiskey at one time.\n\nWe left Baltimore, and arrived at our home. When I saw my four\nbrothers, who had been so long separated from me, I felt as I think\nJoseph felt when he saw his brethren, though I knew nothing of the\nhistory of Joseph at that time. Surely I was glad to see my brothers,\nbut yet I was a slave--being with them did not make mo a free man. I\nwas yet bowed down and crushed by the cruel spirit of slavery.\n\nThey were about to run away at the time of my arrival; but I knew\nnothing of it. Six months, or about that time after, I joined them.\nThree of my oldest brothers went away, leaving one of my brothers and\nmyself behind. This brother is still a slave. I heard from him in\n1846. We were left behind because we were not able to travel. They\nleft ten years before I did, but in relation to those ten years I will\nremain silent. I was the youngest of the five brothers. My old master\nhad a very bad wife, and she made him much worse than he would have\nbeen without her. She made him beat me without cause, and when it\nanswered no purpose. During those awful ten years we had not enough\nto eat, and were beaten shamefully. Most of the time we had bean soup\nfor breakfast, dinner and supper--a pint at each meal. When we had\npotatoes, we were without bread. Such was our fare; and whether hungry\nor satisfied, we had no addition to it. We were poor slaves; and the\ngreat object in feeding slaves is doubtless the same as it is with\ncattle and horses, to keep them in good working order, or saleable\ncondition. Of course, if the health of the slave is not permanently\ninjured, the nearer to the starvation point the master can keep the\nslave, the more it is for his interest; and who, that casts his eye\nback through the dark, bloody track of slavery, does not perceive that\nthe masters have acted up to their interest? We sometimes had cider;\noccasionally some meat and milk, as it might happen.\n\nWe remembered what our brothers told us--when we were able to run\naway, to try it on some favorable Sunday. The old man would let us go\nto meeting on Sunday at the village, but if we were not at home by\nsundown, the cowhide paid the debt. We were slaves yet, and the old man\ngrew poorer and poorer the older he grew, and withal cross, much to our\ndiscomfort. He had a wife like king Herod, and like Ahab, for we read\nthat Beelzebub stirred up Ahab to work evil in the sight of the Lord.\n\nFinally the old lady teased her husband to put my brother Nick out; and\nhe let him out for ten dollars a month. I was at home with two women\nand a boy to carry on the farm, and we saw hard times. The old man had\na son, a preacher. At times he came home, but he could not help our\ncase. I was anxious to learn to read. My master had two sons who went\nto school, and four unmarried daughters. One Sunday a gentleman came to\nour house; I held his horse, and he gave me a sixpenny bit, with which\nI bought a book, and tried to learn to read. I had it but a week, when\nthe old man saw it in my bosom, and made inquiry as to what it was. He\nsaid, \u201cYou son of a b--h, if I ever know you to have a book again, I\nwill whip you half to death.\u201d He took the book from me, and burnt it!\nWhat could I do? I was a slave; and the mind which God had given me,\nin common with my brethren with white skins to be enlightened, must\nbe kept darkened, and remain in ignorance, to suit the policy of the\n\u201cpeculiar institution.\u201d\n\nI omitted to mention that Mr. Buk came to see Miss Jane, one of the\nunmarried daughters, at the time he gave me the piece of money. The\nsame attraction drew him there again, and he then gave me eleven pence,\nwith which I purchased a larger book, thirsting for that knowledge\nwhich was denied me; but I had not had this book over a week before my\nmaster found it out; and he then made me sick of books by beating me\nlike a dog. He whipped me so very severely that he overcame my thirst\nfor knowledge, and I relinquished its pursuit until after I absconded.\nHe took my book from me, and gave it to his son--so it seems the white\nman\u2019s son must have the means of education, even if stolen from the\nslave. I could do nothing; but the all-merciful Father, who regards\nMAN as MAN, whatever may be the injustice and oppression to which he\nis subjected, watched over and guided me with his parental eye through\nall the soul-sickening, heart-rending trials of a gloomy bondage. I can\nprove by the scriptures that slave-holders are worse than the devil,\nfor it is written in St. James, \u201cResist the devil, and he will flee\nfrom you;\u201d but if you undertake to resist the slave-holder, he will\nhold you the tighter.\n\nI knew a man who thought it too cruel to whip his slaves, but he\nstripped them naked, tied them to a board, (one end of which was on the\nfence, the other on the ground,) and then drew a cat by her tail down\ntheir backs. Of course the claws of the cat sunk deeply into the flesh,\nfor at such a time a cat will resist this retrograde movement to the\nextent of her strength. Then he would ask the poor slave if it hurt.\nThe reply was, \u201cOh! pray, master, oh! pray, master, don\u2019t.\u201d\n\nWhen in slavery I experienced a hope in Christ, from the 8th verse of\nthe 23d chapter of Matthew,[A] \u201cGive us of your oil, for our lamps have\ngone out.\u201d It was one year before I had evidence that my heart was\nchanged. This was in the year 1836. I was awakened by the Holy Spirit\nof God, by its divine influence operating on my mind, and the words,\n\u201cGive me of your oil,\u201d rang in my ears continually; but I strove hard\nagainst the spirit, to shake off these feelings, yet at the end of\nthis year I was brought to submit to the will of God. I beheld myself\na justly condemned sinner before God. I felt bound to give myself up\nto Him; and obtained a pardon for my sins--and to-day I am struggling\nto make my peace, my calling and election sure. The word of that poor\nunreleased slave has proved unto me the power and wisdom of God, and\nto-day I am trying to preach Christ to the inhabitants of Nantucket.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[A] I experienced a hope under a slave man.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\n\nMy brother Nicholas said, that our brothers recommended to him and\nmyself to run away when we were old enough. We used to talk this over.\nWhen God had opened my eyes, I grew very uneasy reflecting upon the\ncondition of my brothers, who were enjoying their liberty in a land of\nfreedom. I wanted also to be free. I resolved to be free. I made up my\nmind to run away in the year 1837. When I ran away, my brother Nicholas\nwas not at home; but I was determined to go. I was so intimate with a\nman named Henry, one of my acquaintances, that I told him I was about\nto run away. He said he would run with me--but he proved a Judas, and\nbetrayed me. We were to start on Monday night. At this time we lived\nat the village. The pasture in which our horses were kept was half a\nmile from the village. Henry told me he would meet me there at half\npast seven. I tied up all my clothes in a bundle, expecting to start.\nI waited till after eight o\u2019clock for Henry, but he did not come. I\nstarted to go back after him, when, behold! I saw my old master, his\ntwo sons, and many other people looking for me. The moon shone very\nbright--the old man was bare-headed; his head was very white; his\nspectacles were put back upon his head, and I could see them glisten\nby the light of the moon. The only reason the old man did not see me\nwas because he was near-sighted, and forgot to pull his spectacles down\nover his eyes. His two sons were standing in the road where I was to\nrun, and five or six other persons on the watch for me; and my heart\nwas in my mouth. Said I, \u201cOh! Lord, what shall I do!\u201d I dropped down\non my hands and feet, and ran half a mile through the grass. I left my\nbundle of clothing and three dollars in money which I had been working\nfor, for some time. All the money I had with me was 75 cents; that a\nQuaker gentleman gave me that afternoon. I had told this gentleman that\nI was going to run away that night, and he told me which way to start\nto get clear. I started for Boston. I travelled all that night. The\nnext morning I came out in a road opposite a tavern, where two roads\ncrossed, and I knew not which to take. I took the east. I was 35 miles\nfrom home. The tavern keeper was standing at the door. It was about\nsunrise. He told me I had the wrong road. I came back to him, supposing\nI had met with a friend. Said he, \u201cDo you want some breakfast?\u201d \u201cYes,\nsir, if you please,\u201d I replied. \u201cCome in, and sit down, and you shall\nhave some,\u201d he continued. \u201cNo, sir,\u201d said I, \u201cI thank you; I will sit\nupon the steps.\u201d \u201cNo,\u201d said the Georgia man, \u201ccome in; we will have\nbreakfast pretty soon, and we will all sit down together.\u201d \u201cNo, sir,\nI thank you, I would as soon sit here;\u201d for I thought he was most too\nkind to be honest; the Quaker man having told me to avoid Georgia men.\nWhen he found I would not come in, he took hold of my collar, but I\nthrew him down, for I was resolved to whip the devil out of the way,\nif possible. After he was down, I ran for my life. There was a colored\nman bringing a pail of water. He cried out to him to stop me; but I\ntold the colored man if he attempted to trouble me I would knock him\ndown. I jumped over a fence, and the Georgia man after me; but I saw\nno more of the colored man. The white man struck me in the side with a\nstone, and run me about a mile. I recovered from the blow of the stone,\nso that I could run a little faster. God gave me strength to fight for\nmy life. The white man fought me, and I fought him with any thing that\ncame handy, with fists and with stones. I told him he might kill me or\nI would kill him. Finally, I whipped him. There was a Dutchman and his\ntwo sons sawing plank in a grist mill. He said, \u201cGlory in your spunk,\nmy man;\u201d and when I had whipped the man he started back after dogs\nand hounds. Said the Dutchman, \u201cRun for your life, for there are two\nGeorgia men in my house.\u201d I knew them well; they were acquaintances of\nmy master\u2019s. Their names were Joshua and Nathan Retlidge, traders.\n\nWhen I heard the dogs and hounds coming after me, I said, \u201cMy God! what\nshall I do!\u201d for I knew they would put them on my track. I was about\nto give up, and wished I had never started. However, I climbed up a\ntree, and in the providence of God, the hounds scared up a rabbit. At\nthe howling of the dogs, I trembled like a leaf, and knew not what\nto do. The hounds drew nearer and nearer; the rabbit came under the\ntree where I was, and, through the will of an over-ruling Providence,\nthey all passed by, and I was safely delivered out of their hands. It\nwas about eight o\u2019clock in the morning when I climbed the tree. I was\nhungry and wet with dew. I staid in the tree till about five o\u2019clock\nin the afternoon. They hunted the woods pretty well, but they did not\nfind me. My words are inadequate to express my joyful feelings at my\ndeliverance. God alone could know my feelings.\n\nI then started for Boston. Then, as now, God alone was my only hope.\nI travelled a number of days without eating any thing, under great\nanxiety to see Boston. One morning I met a colored man named George. He\nwas running away, and had got lost. He was from Richmond, Virginia. He\nasked my name. I told him; and we travelled a number of days together.\nWe called into a shop where we thought no one would harm us, and got\nsomething to eat. Thus, under the guidance of Providence, we proceeded\nalong. We came to a farmer\u2019s house, and we let ourselves out each to\na farmer for $13 a month, our object being to get money to defray our\nexpenses.\n\nGeorge grew uneasy. He staid only two weeks--was fearful his master\nwould overtake him. He started for New York, but reached only as far as\nBrunswick, 16 miles from where he started, and, as I heard, was taken\nup, put in jail, and carried back.\n\nI began to grow uneasy. One morning I asked the farmer for whom I\nworked for $4. He gave me that sum. We went to breakfast. I ate\nquickly, and cleared. I have not seen him since. I crossed the fields,\nmissed the bridge, and came to a creek, over which I had to swim. I\ncame out into the road. A man in a gig overtook me and inquired who I\nwas, and where I was going. I told him to New Brunswick. He inquired\nwho I knew. I named the individual I had lived with. He went to his\nhouse, and I took to the woods, and did not come out again until I\nreached New Brunswick. I got there about dusk--saw a colored man with a\npail, and inquired of him the way to New York. \u201cStand here,\u201d said he,\n\u201cuntil I come back.\u201d But it is a hard thing to catch a weasel asleep.\nSo when he was out of sight, I vanished also. I went to the car bridge;\nthe man would not let me go across. I went under the bridge and staid\nthere till the cars arrived; and when the gate opened I passed, and\nbade New Brunswick good bye.\n\nI then proceeded on to New York. I travelled until one o\u2019clock in the\nmorning, though it was cold and frosty. While lying asleep, there\ncame a drove of hogs. In hunting for acorns, they turned me over. I\nwas alarmed, supposing my pursuers had overtaken me. I jumped up and\nstarted again, chilled with cold, travelled two hours, and lay down by\nthe side of a hay-stack.\n\nI arose about day-break. The next place I reached was Elizabethtown.\nIn going through this town, a man accosted me, saying, \u201cI think I\nknow your countenance.\u201d \u201cNo,\u201d said I, \u201cI know nothing about you.\u201d He\ninquired whence I came, and whither I was going; and I told him I was\nfrom home and for New York. I left him, and made my way for Newark.\nWhen I got there I was very hungry, for I had eaten nothing since I\nleft the farm-house. I went into a bake-shop, and bought eleven pence\nworth of bread. The loaf was a pretty large one, and I commenced\neating, but soon felt sick, laid down in the swamp, rested, and started\nagain.\n\nI met some Irishmen who were working on the rail road, and I thought\nevery moment I should be killed. One of them asked me where I was\ngoing, for what purpose, and when I should return. I told him I was\ngoing to New York to buy some things, and should return the same\nafternoon or next morning. He inquired whether I should return by\nthe same route, and I replied \u201cYes.\u201d He said \u201cVery well,\u201d to which I\nresponded. I looked so bad I suppose he thought strange, for I had on\nthe same clothes I started with. I proceeded on, came to the ferry,\nand crossed over to New York. Near the ferry there was a stable, and a\nman sitting by it. We bade each other good morning, and I inquired the\nroad to Canada. He told me I must go to New York in order to get to\nCanada. \u201cWhy do you wish to go to Canada?\u201d said he. I told him I had\nrelations there. I did not then know whether my brother who ran away\nbefore me was in Boston or Canada. Discovering he had a disposition\nto question me, I said, \u201cI guessed I would go to New York, get some\nclothes, and go back home.\u201d He wished me to come into the stable, and\nsit down while he went to the house to get a coat, which he offered to\nsell me. I declined his offer, and told him I would as soon stand. He\nstarted off, whether in pursuit of the coat or somebody to detain me, I\ndo not know, for I left immediately. I paid the ferryman a five-penny\nbit, and crossed to New York. No questions were put to me on board the\nferry-boat.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\n\nWhen I landed, I inquired of a boy whether there was any boat that\nrun to the State of Boston. I was so ignorant I knew not whether\nBoston was a State or city. In fact, I scarcely knew there was such a\nplace. Slavery is as ill adapted for obtaining this kind of knowledge\nas all other kinds. He informed me the boat went to Providence, and\nshowed me the way to the boat. I purchased a bosom and dickey, went on\nboard of the boat, and stowed myself away among the bales of cotton,\nwhere I remained until we were a considerable distance from New York.\nI then felt like a FREE MAN, and walked the deck with the rest of\nthe passengers. I had but little money, and wanted to save it; so I\ninquired of the engineer if I could work my passage to Providence. He\nsaid \u201cYes,\u201d and set me to work. I worked out the first watch of the\nnight, and he then told me I might go to sleep. I laid down on the\ncotton. The man came round and demanded my ticket. I told him I had\nnone, that I had been working half of the night. Said he, \u201cThat I know\nnothing about. You must go to the office and settle your fare.\u201d He said\nthe fare was $3, and he could give me no ticket. I thought hard of it,\nbut it was of no use to have any further conversation.\n\nI got to Providence on Sunday morning. My money was all gone. There I\nwas, without friends, victuals or money. I inquired of a man if there\nwas such a place as Boston, and how far it was. He said 40 miles. I\nstarted, and took the rail road. I walked all day Sunday, and about\nnine o\u2019clock came to a farmer\u2019s house. I knocked at the door; a lady\ncame, and inquired what I wanted. I asked her if she would please give\nme something to eat, for I was very hungry. She invited me in; she\nwent to the pump, got a cup of water, and gave me a crust of brown\nbread, from which the inside had been taken. As she gave it to me in\nthe name of a disciple, she shall receive a disciple\u2019s reward. By this\ntime, the old gentleman came in. \u201cHow do you do, my man?\u201d said he.\n\u201cHow do you do, sir?\u201d said I. He inquired of me where I was from, when\nI left, and where I was going; and I gave him the information. After\nsitting awhile, he inquired if I would like to lie down. I told him I\nwas very tired, and he took me to the barn and gave me liberty to rest\nthere for the night. I said nothing, but went in. I was afraid of him;\nfor he had on a blue frock, and, never having seen any one with such a\nfrock on, I supposed he was a Turk. About 3 o\u2019clock next morning I got\nup and started for Boston, being afraid to stay there any longer.\n\nI reached Boston at noon on Monday, and inquired for my brothers; but\nnobody knew anything about them. Finally, I met with a colored lady\nby the name of Sarah Taylor, the wife of John R. Taylor. I asked her\nif she knew any thing about my brothers. She said a George Black had\npassed through Boston, and lived in Portland. She said, \u201cCome home with\nme, for I perceive you have been a slave.\u201d I went and boarded with her\nfor $3 a week. I got a gentleman to write to Portland to Mr. George\nBlack, the man I thought was my brother. He supposed I was one of his\nbrothers, he having three brothers in the West Indies. He invited me\nto come to Portland, and offered to pay my fare. I was very ragged and\ndirty. Mrs. Taylor wrapped me up in Mr. Taylor\u2019s cloak, and sent me to\nPortland. Mr. Black sent down his man to the steamboat to get my trunk;\nbut instead of having a trunk, I had scarcely any clothes to my back.\nWhen I saw Mr. Black, and found he was not my brother, I was very sad;\nand he was disappointed. He said he knew nothing of my brothers--had\nnever seen them. He talked with me much about slavery, and I unfolded\nto him my history, and that of others. Mr. Black was very kind to me,\nindeed, and did all in his power to render me happy. Mrs. Black, his\nwife, was more than a mother to me, and the whole family were very\nkind to me. I married Mr. Black\u2019s daughter. I could not go to church\nthe first Sunday after my arrival, for I was ragged and dirty. The\nfollowing week, Mrs. Black and her daughter made me some clothes. I\nhad been there but a short time when Mr. Black sent me to school. I\nwent to school that winter, and learned very fast. Mr. Black charged me\nnothing for my board that winter. When near spring, Mr. Black sent me\nup to Bridgetown, 34 miles from Portland, to live with Major Purley, a\nfarmer. Mr. Purley gave me $10 a month, and was anxious for me to go\nto school; but I told him no. I owed Mr. Black, and wanted to get some\nclothes, and could not spare the time.\n\nAt length George Ropes wrote me from Portland, to come and live with\nhim. I went there, and boarded with Mr. Black. I was engineer for Mr.\nRopes in the steam factory, and lived with him one season; and when the\nRev. Mr. Black removed to Boston to be settled over the Belknap-street\nChurch, I accompanied him. The reason why I removed to Boston with Mr.\nBlack, was because I had fallen in love with his daughter. I trust\nthis reason will be deemed ample by all those who have experienced\nthe tender workings of this mysterious passion. Only a few months\nafter my return to Boston, I married Mr. Black\u2019s daughter, though\nyoung and poor; and I am still poor. I had four children, one of whom\nis deceased. I lived at service in Boston. Sometimes I worked on the\nwharves. But I was in an unsettled state, being under the impression\nthat I should preach the Gospel. I firstly derived these impressions\nin Boston, and they have not left me. I was baptized before I left\nPortland, by the Rev. Mr. Burroughs, who is now in his grave. I joined\nthe Belknap street Church while Mr. Black was pastor. I lived there\nfive years: then I found Boston was not the place for me, for its\nvanities and maxims were not suited to my disposition. I prepared to\nlive in the country, for I had a desire to be diligent in business,\nfervent in spirit, serving the Lord. I began to think of perishing\nsouls, and the cause of God laid near my heart. I felt that God had a\nclaim upon me, that I was not my own master; but I struggled against\nthese impressions, for I was inadequate, unlearned and unprepared. I\ncould say as said Jeremiah, \u201cBehold, I cannot speak, for I am a child;\nbut the Lord said unto me, Say not thou art a child, for thou shalt go\nto all to whom I shall send thee, and whatever I command thee, thou\nshalt do;\u201d Jer. i:6-7. And I said as Moses did, \u201cI am slow of speech\nand of a slow tongue;\u201d Exod. iv:10. My call was now unto the sons of\nmen. The time had arrived for me to leave Boston.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\n\nI left my family in Boston, and went to Providence, R. I., to live with\nPresident Wayland. While living with Dr. Wayland, I tried to improve\nmy mind, and it gives me pleasure to state, that that gentleman did\nall in his power to assist me. I connected myself with the Rev. Mr.\nAshur\u2019s Church in Providence, and had a bible class, being as active\nas possible in the Sabbath School. After being connected with Brother\nAshur\u2019s Church a short time, he invited me to officiate for him one\nSunday morning, as he knew I was accustomed to exhort when in Boston.\n\nI left Dr. Wayland and went to work with Mr. Andrew, a stone mason,\nand continued to work for him while he had employment for me. In this\ntime, I had moved my family from Boston to Providence. Finally, I told\nthe brethren and pastor of the church that God had called me to the\nwork of the ministry. They agreed to give me a hearing. They did so,\nand appointed a committee to see me; and the result was, the brethren\nthought I was not called to preach--\u201cthat Brother Black had better wait\nawhile longer.\u201d Dr. Wayland thought I had not learning enough to preach.\n\nI know that I am of a slow tongue, and unlearned; but what says the\nprophet Zachariah? \u201cNot by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, saith\nthe Lord of hosts. Who art thou, O great mountain? before Zerubbabel\nthou shalt become a plain; and he shall bring forth the head stone\nthereof with shoutings, crying, Grace, grace unto it;\u201d iv:6, 7.\n\nAt length I got discouraged, let myself out to Mr. Foster in\nProvidence, and run in his canal boat from Providence to Woonsocket.\nThe few books I had I carried to auction, and almost gave up in\ndespair; for some of the brethren were looking upon me with a frown\nand dark looks. I knew I was a poor unlearned fugitive. I had given\nup the idea of preaching, nor did I wish to hear about it, and was\nsorry I mentioned it to the brethren or any one else. So I went to the\ncanal boat, working for $12 a month, having a family to support. But\noh! Lord! my trouble had not come. Mr. Foster was a kind man. I had\nworked on the canal about three weeks, when I met with a sad accident.\nWe arrived at Woonsocket one night with a load of coal; it began to\nrain, and rained all the next day. The captain said we must get up at\n2 o\u2019clock the next morning, and carry the boat up through the lock,\nfor the current ran so hard when the factory started, it was difficult\ngetting up. The coal was going to Waterford, one mile from Woonsocket.\nWhen I mounted the horse to return, it being very dark, and raining\nvery hard, the horse started before I was fairly upon his back; his\nhind legs gave way, he fell backwards on me, and broke my leg. While\nI was struggling with the horse upon me, words came unto me like\nthese--\u201cThis is for your disobedience.\u201d My companions were a little way\nbehind, and they heard me haloo. The horse in struggling to get clear,\ncut my face with his foot. I was hurt so badly that my wife had to feed\nme with a tea-spoon. The men came up and got the horse off of me, and\nI was not aware my leg was broken until I started to run. It was about\nfour o\u2019clock in the morning. They laid me on the horse, and carried me\nback to the tavern; but oh! the pain, the misery I was in. It rained\nhard, and they were all asleep at the tavern; so that I remained\nexposed to the rain some time. They sent for the doctor immediately,\nbut he did not arrive until nine o\u2019clock, and then set my leg. The\nowner of the tavern sent me home in a carriage, a distance of nineteen\nmiles, where we arrived at sundown.\n\nMy folks thought I was dead. The moment the carriage drew up to the\ndoor, they took me out, carried me into the house, and laid me on a bed.\n\nMy distress of body was very great, and the anguish of my mind was\nextreme--for I had but little victuals in the house, was without\nmoney, and there was about to be an increase in my family. My wife was\nunwell, and I was laid prostrate on the bed. Then the saying of the\napostle Paul came fresh to my mind--\u201cIn every thing give thanks, for\nthis is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you;\u201d Thes. v:18.\nAt first, I could see no place where I could give thanks. The streams\nof livelihood were dried up, and the hand of Providence was closed, it\nseemed to me. I had no income save my daily labor. I was a stranger in\nthat community, but in reflecting on Him whose kindness tempers the\nwind to the shorn lamb, I had reason to be thankful; first, that both\nlegs were not broken; second, that my arms were whole; and last and\ngreatest, that God had spared my life to see my family once more.\n\nNot many days after, the hand of Providence was directed to my house.\nUnexpected stores were opened to my relief. President Wayland and other\nbenevolent individuals, ladies and gentlemen, remembered me in their\nkindness. While I was confined to my couch, the scenes of by-gone\nages passed in review. I remembered the vow I had made to God. My\neyes gushed out with tears. I could say then as did David of old--\u201cI\nfound trouble and sorrow; then called I upon the name of the Lord.\u201d I\nfound the Lord my refuge and strength, a present help in trouble. I\nsaid it was better to have a broken leg in a land of freedom, than to\nhave sound limbs under the curse of slavery. While I was musing one\nnight, and meditating upon God and his providence, I closed my eyes,\nand whether asleep or awake I know not, but I viewed a rod at the foot\nof my bed, about four feet high. It was wrapped in black and red, and\na smaller rod was lying in the bed with me. The large rod reflected\non the small rod, and the words of John (iii:14,) came to me--\u201cAnd as\nMoses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, the son of man must be\nlifted up.\u201d Then I remembered the words of the Lord, and promised Him\nat that hour if he would raise me up again, I would obey His call. In\nthe course of a few months God raised me up, and I was willing to obey\nHim, took my life in my hand, and went out into the wide world as a\nlamb in the midst of the wilderness. I trusted that God would be with\nme; His rod and His staff would encompass me.\n\nWhen I started, I left a wife and two children. I left them in the\ncare of God. I went a little ways down east, and was gone seven weeks.\nWherever I went, the brethren received me gladly. I returned, but\nremained at home but little while, and as I had never seen New Bedford,\nI left what little means I had with my family, and started for that\ntown. When I got there I knew not where to go, for I was a stranger.\nI inquired for the Rev. Mr. Allen, the Baptist minister, and also for\nthe Rev. Mr. Jackson. I stayed at New Bedford a few days; and as I had\nheard much said of Nantucket, I wanted to go there. I told Mr. Jackson\nI wanted to go to Nantucket, but had no money. He said, \u201cYou should\nnot have left home without money.\u201d \u201cNo, sir,\u201d said I, \u201cbut I had none\nto fetch.\u201d But two wrongs will not make one right. Mr. Jackson gave me\nhalf a dollar, and I obtained some more money among the brethren and\nsisters, and took the steamboat for Nantucket. I had yet no license to\npreach. I had a letter of recommendation from the pastor of the church\nto which I belonged, not only as a brother, but as a beloved brother.\n\nWhen I arrived at Nantucket, I inquired for Deacon Berry, of the York\nstreet, Baptist Church, and handed him my letter of recommendation.\nThey had no preacher. When I went to the church on Sabbath morning,\nthe house was open for preaching. The fame went abroad that a strange\nminister from Providence had arrived. I preached for them that Sabbath\nto the best of my ability. I was but a child in the Gospel.\n\nIt was my intention to leave for Providence on the following Tuesday;\nbut the brethren prevailed on me to stay longer, and I remained several\nweeks. The brethren gave me a call, and being young, I accepted it. I\nwent out to beg money to repair their house of worship, and afterwards\nleft for Providence.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\n\nI will now say something of slavery. I shall say nothing but what I\nknow to be true. Slavery is a cruel system. The effects of it are\nscattered abroad throughout the land. It is the reigning evil of the\ncountry; yea, the mother of all evil. Why is it the mother of all evil?\nI answer in the language of Holy Writ, which saith, \u201cDo unto all men\nas you would have them do unto you.\u201d It is not done. Again: \u201cLove thy\nneighbor as thyself. This is the law and the prophets.\u201d It is not done.\nReader,--where is the slaveholder who would wish his slaves to do to\nhim as he does to them? There are none. Hence, then, the enormity of\nthe evil.\n\nDear reader: understand one thing. The slaves are taught ignorance\nas we teach our children knowledge. They are kept in darkness, and\nare borne down under a cruel, cruel oppression! All human rights are\ndenied them as citizens! They are not recognized as men! My old master\nfrequently said, \u201che did not believe a d----d nigger had any soul!\u201d\nThey are made to undergo everything as a beast. Having a full, perfect,\nundeniable right to stand out before God as MEN, the cruel, God-defying\nwhite man, without semblance of right, with no pretence but might, has\nprostituted them to the base purpose of his cupidity, and his baser\nbeastly passions, reducing them to mere things, mere chattels, to be\nbought and sold like hogs and sheep! Born, like the white man, to an\nindividual responsibility to the Father of mercies, the treatment of\nthe white man to the poor African, unmixed with mercy, has curtained\nhis mind to all knowledge, aye, even to the knowledge of the God of\nheaven and earth, and thus removed from him the accountability!\nBut, where does this terrible accountability rest? Let the hardened\nslave-tyrant, when he stands quivering before the Almighty bar of\nretribution, answer this question! Well might Thomas Jefferson remark,\nwhen his deep, penetrating mind was reflecting upon the stupendous\nwrongs of slavery, \u201cI tremble for my country, when I remember that God\nis just, and that his justice cannot slumber forever?\u201d I appeal, then,\nto every rational, intelligent mind, if slavery be not an abomination\nin the sight of the Lord.\n\nIt has been said that slaves have no intellect. I deny it. God has\ngiven them minds capable of cultivation. Uncultivated ground will not\nbring forth fruit. All the slave requires is cultivation, for he is\npossessed of all the qualities of the white man.\n\nReader: we have heard of the wisdom of King Solomon, son of David, the\ngrandson of ancient Jesse. The Queen of Basheba has declared that half\nhad never been told her. History informs us that Solomon was as black\nas black satin, with handsome features and smooth skin.\n\nI could refer to many of the colored race whose mental endowments are\nsuperior to many of those arrogant white men who abhor a colored man\nand pretend to be his superior in knowledge.\n\nThe language of Jesus Christ to his apostles should teach us not to\ndespise the workmanship of God. \u201cHe that despiseth you, despiseth me.\u201d\nDo men, I ask, realize the awful evil of slavery? Are they aware of\nits terrible calamities? Has it not become so familiar, from its long\nexistence, as almost to reconcile the tender conscience to its infamous\nenormities? It must be so. There is no other mode of accounting for the\nfact, that men, good christians in other respects, quietly hold slaves\nat the south, while their equally guilty brethren of the north assent\nto it, and participate in its profits.\n\nShould we not remember them that are in bondage as bound with them? Say\nnot only slaves be obedient to your masters according to the flesh, but\nalso say, masters, render unto your servants that which is right; and\nif that principle were carried out, slavery would be abolished.\n\nHow do the masters teach the slaves ignorance? Having been a slave,\nI answer the question. When the master asks the slave, Tom, Harry,\nDick or Bill, \u201cDo you love your master?\u201d he answers, \u201cYes, massa, I\nlub you.\u201d \u201cCome here and get a dram; drink us a treat, you son of a\nb...h.\u201d Why does the slave say \u201cYes, sir?\u201d Because he is afraid to say\nany thing else. He is crushed under the iron heel of the slave-tyrant!\n\nThe time is coming when the wrongs of the slave will be redressed.\nYes, the time is coming when their blood will cry unto the Lord for\ndeliverance.\n\nIt is very customary to magnify the evils of emancipation. It is said\nby very many persons that the slaves, if liberated, would become an\nidle, vagabond set. This remark, doubtless, is sometimes made in\nsincerity; but no doubt it is frequently used as a sort of salve to\nquiet the conscience for inaction. It is most unquestionably true that\nhere and there a case would exist of improvidence, just as they exist\namong the white population; but such cases would form the exception,\nnot the rule. Persons who indulge in such remarks seem entirely\nunacquainted with the views and feelings of slaves, and to suppose that\nthey are utterly incapable of appreciating, even to a small extent,\nthe blessings and enjoyments of freedom. But this is a mistake, and\noperates powerfully on some minds to prevent wholesome action in favor\nof the liberation of the slave. It is to be hoped that all true men\nand women who are held back from engaging in the cause of the slave\nby this consideration, will take pains to examine the subject with\ncare, ere they yield to this pernicious opinion. As to those who have\nbetter knowledge, and make use of this assumed fact as a scape-goat for\ntheir lethargy, not having independence enough to confess the truth,\nI commend them, together with their meanness, to such particles of\nconscience as are yet left unscathed by the searing iron of hypocrisy.\n\nIt is further averred, both honestly and for selfish purposes, as in\nthe case just stated, that the slaves, if liberated, would rush for\nthe north, overwhelming the workingmen in this region with misery and\ndespair. This I know to be untrue, both from observation and my own\nexperience. The climate of the balmy south is much better adapted to\nthe nature of the colored man, than the more rigorous one of greater\nnorthern latitude. It is not the _south_ we abhor. It is _slavery_ we\nabhor. God has made the south and blessed it. Man, in his selfishness,\nhas cursed it. Remove slavery, and we join hearts and hands with the\nsouth. Give us equal rights. Give us justice. Make us MEN. Give us pay\nfor our toil, and we will work at the south.\n\nIt is a matter of astonishment that slavery has so long existed,\nand yet that its enormities have taken so little hold on a people\nprofessing to be Christians. In a country whose inhabitants dipped\ntheir hands in blood to establish FREEDOM, there are over _two and a\nhalf millions_ of human beings, entitled to all the rights of white\nmen, held in absolute bondage. Are the people of this nation aware of\nthis fact? Thousands of times has this awful truth been reiterated in\nthe ears of American Christians, and yet from the profound indifference\nwhich yet generally exists on the subject, we are led to ask, Do the\npeople of this nation realize the fact? More than any other nation\non earth we boast of our liberty, our refinement, our advancement\nin the arts and sciences, our railroads, our various facilities for\nintercommunication, and all the outward appliances to render life\ncomfortable. We have seized upon the very lightning of Heaven, and\ncommanded it to bear our messages from one distant point to another\nwithout the intervention of time, literally annihilating all space:\nand we not only boast of these things, but we aver in the face of the\nabhorrent fact of slavery, that we are the most virtuous nation on\nearth! To the enormity of slavery we are, indeed, spiritually dead.\nWere slavery about to commence, were we to summon the voters of this\nnation to the polls to decide whether two and a half millions of human\nbeings should be subjected to this bondage, what think you, reader,\nwould be the result? Can there be a man found who would vote for the\nmeasure, unless indeed the love of money had so blunted all humanity as\nto render his better feelings entirely inactive?\n\nIt is in vain for apologists of slavery to defend it by such arguments\nas this: They will tell you that the slaves of the south are better\nfed and clothed than the colored people of the north. The fact is not\nadmitted. But, suppose it were a fact. Is man to be considered as a\nmere ox, to be bowed up and stall fed? Is he a mere victuals grinder\nand clothes horse? Or, has he a higher nature? Has he not a mind\ncapable of rising higher and higher in all that is expansive, pure and\nholy? Has he not within him a spark of pure Divinity, which, when he is\nsurrounded with high and ennobling influences, is fanned into a light\nso bright as to lead us to respond to the glorious truth, Man is indeed\nmade in the image of his God?\n\nDo you talk of _selling a man_? You might as well talk of selling\nimmortality or sunshine! You might as well talk of your right to\nmonopolise the atmosphere, to determine how much air a man should\nbreathe, and to retail it out to him by the jaw-full!\n\nAgain, it is said the slave has a maintenance guaranteed to him in old\nage, and is thus rendered free from those corroding cares in reference\nto his support which wear upon the poor free man. Is this provision of\nso high a consequence that men voluntarily submit to slavery? Are the\nmasters willing to exchange the advantages derived from the unrequited\nlabor of the slave for a freedom from this guarantee? The slave-holders\nof the south cannot make us believe they are so verdant as thus to\nhave mistaken their interest. Away, then, with the argument that a\nGod-created MAN should be made a man-created thing!\n\nAmerican fathers, let me ask _you_, are the _advantages_ of slavery\nsufficient to induce _you_ to submit to the terrible wrong of being\nseparated from _your_ wives and children, and sold to a distant owner?\nAmerican mothers, do _you_ desire that _your_ husbands should be torn\nfrom the hearth-stone, and sold from your presence forever? Do you wish\nyour children snatched from your cradles, knocked off at auction to\nthe highest bidder, to go away from you forever? If not, then let your\napologies for slavery cease.\n\nReader, I take my leave of you, with the fond hope, that the\nrecuperative moral energies both of the north and the south will soon\nherald the dawn of that glorious day when the sweat and blood of the\nunfortunate African shall no longer be struck into coin for the use of\nthe cruel, unrelenting white man.\n\n\nERRATA.--On page 13, second line from the bottom, for \u201cwriting\u201d read\nwrithing.\n\n\n\n\nTHE TRAVELLING PILGRIM.\n\n     I have no friends, no helper nigh,\n     But He who heard the raven\u2019s cry;\n     My father\u2019s house I\u2019ve bid adieu,\n     And on my journey I pursue.\n\n     My sister wonders where I am,\n     But I shall not return again;\n     My sisters, brothers, think it strange\n     That I should leave my nearest friends.\n\n     But my kind friends I now must leave,\n     And on my journey I proceed,\n     To attend an appointment I have made,\n     To find a place to lay my head.\n\n     And if poor sinners did but know\n     How much for them I undergo,\n     They would not treat me with contempt,\n     Nor curse me when I say \u201crepent.\u201d\n\n     But O! the trials of my heart,\n     Through rain, through snow, I have to go,\n     And when I\u2019m called to leave this flesh,\n     I trust with Jesus Christ to rest.","title":"The Life and Sufferings of Leonard Black, a Fugitive from Slavery","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":9877}