Narrative of the Life and Adventures of Henry Bibb, an American Slave, Written by Himself by Henry Bibb

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So I brushed up myself and walked down to the river's bank, where the
man was pointed out to me standing on board of his raft, I approached
him, and after passing the usual compliments I said:

"Sir, I understand that you wish to purchase a lot of servants and I
have called to know if it is so."

He smiled and appeared to be much pleased at my visit on such laudable
business, supposing me to be a slave trader. He commenced rubbing his
hands together, and replied by saying: "Yes sir, I am glad to see you.
It is a part of my business here to buy slaves, and if I could get you
to take my lumber in part pay I should like to buy four or five of
your slaves at any rate. What kind of slaves have you, sir?"

After I found that he took me to be a slave trader I knew that it
would be of no use for me to tell him that I was myself a slave
looking for a master, for he would have doubtless brought up the same
objection that others had brought up,--that I was too white; and that
they were afraid that I could read and write; and would never serve as
a slave, but run away. My reply to the question respecting the quality
of my slaves was, that I did not think his lumber would suit me--that
I must have the cash for my negroes, and turned on my heel and left
him!

I returned to the prison and informed my wife of the fact that I had
been taken to be a slaveholder. She thought that in addition to my
light complexion my being dressed up in Garrison's old slave trading
clothes might have caused the man to think that I was a slave trader,
and she was afraid that we should yet be separated if I should not
succeed in finding some body to buy us.

Every day to us was a day of trouble, and every night brought new and
fearful apprehensions that the golden link which binds together
husband and wife might be broken by the heartless tyrant before the
light of another day.

Deep has been the anguish of my soul when looking over my little
family during the silent hours of the night, knowing the great danger
of our being sold off at auction the next day and parted forever. That
this might not come to pass, many have been the tears and prayers
which I have offered up to the God of Israel that we might be
preserved.

While waiting here to be disposed of, I heard of one Francis
Whitfield, a cotton planter, who wanted to buy slaves. He was
represented to be a very pious soul, being a deacon of a Baptist
church. As the regulations, as well as public opinion generally, were
against slaves meeting for religious worship, I thought it would give
me a better opportunity to attend to my religious duties should I fall
into the hands of this deacon.

So I called on him and tried to show to the best advantage, for the
purpose of inducing him to buy me and my family. When I approached
him, I felt much pleased at his external appearance--I addressed him
in the following words as well as I can remember:

"Sir, I understand you are desirous of purchasing slaves?"

With a very pleasant smile, he replied, "Yes, I do want to buy some,
are you for sale?"

"Yes sir, with my wife and one child."

Garrison had given me a note to show wherever I went, that I was for
sale, speaking of my wife and child, giving us a very good character
of course--and I handed him the note.

After reading it over he remarked, "I have a few questions to ask you,
and if you will tell me the truth like a good boy, perhaps I may buy
you with your family. In the first place, my boy, you are a little too
near white. I want you to tell me now whether you can read or write?"

My reply was in the negative.

"Now I want you to tell me whether you have run away? Don't tell me no
stories now, like a good fellow, and perhaps I may buy you."

But as I was not under oath to tell him the whole truth, I only gave
him a part of it, by telling him that I had run away once.

He appeared to be pleased at that, but cautioned me to tell him the
truth, and asked me how long I stayed away, when I run off?

I told him that I was gone a month.

He assented to this by a bow of his head, and making a long grunt
saying, "That's right, tell me the truth like a good boy."

The whole truth was that I had been off in the state of Ohio, and
other free states, and even to Canada; besides this I was notorious
for running away, from my boyhood.

I never told him that I had been a runaway longer than one
month--neither did I tell him that I had not run away more than once
in my life; for these questions he never asked me.

I afterwards found him to be one of the basest hypocrites that I ever
saw. He looked like a saint--talked like the best of slave holding
Christians, and acted at home like the devil.

When he saw my wife and child, he concluded to buy us. He paid for me
twelve hundred dollars, and one thousand for my wife and child. He
also bought several other slaves at the same time, and took home with
him. His residence was in the parish of Claiborn, fifty miles up from
the mouth of Red River.

When we arrived there, we found his slaves poor, ragged, stupid, and
half-starved. The food he allowed them per week, was one peck of corn
for each grown person, one pound of pork, and sometimes a quart of
molasses. This was all that they were allowed, and if they got more
they stole it.

He had one of the most cruel overseers to be found in that section of
country. He weighed and measured out to them, their week's allowance
of food every Sabbath morning. The overseer's horn was sounded two
hours before daylight for them in the morning, in order that they
should be ready for work before daylight. They were worked from
daylight until after dark, without stopping but one half hour to eat
or rest, which was at noon. And at the busy season of the year, they
were compelled to work just as hard on the Sabbath, as on any other
day.

CHAPTER X.

_Cruel treatment on Whitfield's farm--Exposure of the children--Mode
of extorting extra labor--Neglect of the sick--Strange medicine
used--Death of our second child._

My first impressions when I arrived on the Deacon's farm, were that he
was far more like what the people call the devil, than he was like a
deacon. Not many days after my arrival there, I heard the Deacon tell
one of the slave girls, that he had bought her for a wife for his boy
Stephen, which office he compelled her fully to perform against her
will. This he enforced by a threat. At first the poor girl neglected
to do this, having no sort of affection for the man--but she was
finally forced to it by an application of the driver's lash, as
threatened by the Deacon.

The next thing I observed was that he made the slave driver strip his
own wife, and flog her for not doing just as her master had ordered.
He had a white overseer, and a colored man for a driver, whose
business it was to watch and drive the slaves in the field, and do the
flogging according to the orders of the overseer.

Next a mulatto girl who waited about the house, on her mistress,
displeased her, for which the Deacon stripped and tied her up. He then
handed me the lash and ordered me to put it on--but I told him I never
had done the like, and hoped he would not compel me to do it. He then
informed me that I was to be his overseer, and that he had bought me
for that purpose. He was paying a man eight hundred dollars a year to
oversee, and he believed I was competent to do the same business, and
if I would do it up right he would put nothing harder on me to do; and
if I knew not how to flog a slave, he would set me an example by which
I might be governed. He then commenced on this poor girl, and gave her
two hundred lashes before he had her untied.

After giving her fifty lashes, he stopped and lectured her a while,
asking her if she thought that she could obey her mistress, &c. She
promised to do all in her power to please him and her mistress, if he
would have mercy on her. But this plea was all vain. He commenced on
her again; and this flogging was carried on in the most inhuman manner
until she had received two hundred stripes on her naked quivering
flesh, tied up and exposed to the public gaze of all. And this was the
example that I was to copy after.

He then compelled me to wash her back off with strong salt brine,
before she was untied, which was so revolting to my feelings, that I
could not refrain from shedding tears.

For some cause he never called on me again to flog a slave. I presume
he saw that I was not savage enough. The above were about the first
items of the Deacon's conduct which struck me with peculiar disgust.

After having enjoyed the blessings of civil and religious liberty for
a season, to be dragged into that horrible place with my family, to
linger out my existence without the aid of religious societies, or the
light of revelation, was more than I could endure. I really felt as if
I had got into one of the darkest corners of the earth. I thought I
was almost out of humanity's reach, and should never again have the
pleasure of hearing the gospel sound, as I could see no way by which I
could extricate myself; yet I never omitted to pray for deliverance. I
had faith to believe that the Lord could see our wrongs and hear our
cries.

I was not used quite as bad as the regular field hands, as the greater
part of my time was spent working about the house; and my wife was the
cook.

This country was full of pine timber, and every slave had to prepare a
light wood torch, over night, made of pine knots, to meet the overseer
with, before daylight in the morning. Each person had to have his
torch lit, and come with it in his hand to the gin house, before the
overseer and driver, so as to be ready to go to the cotton field by
the time they could see to pick out cotton. These lights looked
beautiful at a distance.

The object of blowing the horn for them two hours before day, was,
that they should get their bite to eat, before they went to the field,
that they need not stop to eat but once during the day. Another object
was, to do up their flogging which had been omitted over night. I have
often heard the sound of the slave driver's lash on the backs, of the
slaves and their heart-rending shrieks, which were enough to melt the
heart of humanity, even among the most barbarous nations of the
earth.

But the Deacon would keep no overseer on his plantation, who neglected
to perform this every morning. I have heard him say that he was no
better pleased than when he could hear the overseer's loud complaining
voice, long before daylight in the morning, and the sound of the
driver's lash among the toiling slaves.

This was a very warm climate, abounding with musquitoes, galinippers
and other insects which were exceedingly annoying to the poor slaves
by night and day, at their quarters and in the field. But more
especially to their helpless little children, which they had to carry
with them to the cotton fields, where they had to set on the damp
ground alone from morning till night, exposed to the scorching rays of
the sun, liable to be bitten by poisonous rattle snakes which are
plenty in that section of the country, or to be devoured by large
alligators, which are often seen creeping through the cotton fields
going from swamp to swamp seeking their prey.

The cotton planters generally, never allow a slave mother time to go
to the house, or quarter during the day to nurse her child; hence they
have to carry them to the cotton fields and tie them in the shade of a
tree, or in clusters of high weeds about in the fields, where they can
go to them at noon, when they are allowed to stop work for one half
hour. This is the reason why so very few slave children are raised on
these cotton plantations, the mothers have no time to take care of
them--and they are often found dead in the field and in the quarter
for want of the care of their mothers. But I never was eye witness to
a case of this kind but have heard many narrated by my slave brothers
and sisters, some of which occurred on the deacon's plantation.

Their plan of getting large quantities of cotton picked is not only to
extort it from them by the lash, but hold out an inducement and
deceive them by giving small prizes. For example; the overseer will
offer something worth one or two dollars to any slave who will pick
out the most cotton in one day, dividing the hands off in three
classes and offering a prize to the one who will pick out the most
cotton in each of the classes. By this means they are all interested
in trying to get the prize.

After making them try it over several times and weighing what cotton
they pick every night, the overseer can tell just how much every hand
can pick. He then gives the present to those that pick the most
cotton, and then if they do not pick just as much afterward they are
flogged.

I have known the slaves to be so much fatigued from labor that they
could scarcely get to their lodging places from the field at night.
And then they would have to prepare something to eat before they could
lie down to rest. Their corn they had to grind on a hand mill for
bread stuff, or pound it in a mortar; and by the time they would get
their suppers it would be midnight; then they would herd down all
together and take but two or three hours rest, before the overseer's
horn called them up again to prepare for the field.

At the time of sickness among slaves they had but very little
attention. The master was to be the judge of their sickness, but never
had studied the medical profession. He always pronounced a slave who
said he was sick, a liar and a hypocrite; said there was nothing the
matter, and he only wanted to keep from work.

His remedy was most generally strong red pepper tea, boiled till it
was red. He would make them drink a pint cup full of it at one dose.
If he should not get better very soon after it, the dose was repeated.
If that should not accomplish the object for which it was given, or
have the desired effect, a pot or kettle was then put over the fire
with a large quantity of chimney soot, which was boiled down until it
was as strong as the juice of tobacco, and the poor sick slave was
compelled to drink a quart of it.

This would operate on the system like salts, or castor oil. But if the
slave should not be very ill, he would rather work as long as he could
stand up, than to take this dreadful medicine.

If it should be a very valuable slave, sometimes a physician was sent
for and something done to save him. But no special aid is afforded the
suffering slave even in the last trying hour, when he is called to
grapple with the grim monster death. He has no Bible, no family altar,
no minister to address to him the consolations of the gospel, before
he launches into the spirit world. As to the burial of slaves, but
very little more care is taken of their dead bodies than if they were
dumb beasts.

My wife was very sick while we were both living with the Deacon. We
expected every day would be her last. While she was sick, we lost our
second child, and I was compelled to dig my own child's grave and bury
it myself without even a box to put it in.

CHAPTER XI.

_I attend a prayer meeting.--Punishment therefor threatened.--I
attempt to escape alone.--My return to take my family.--Our
sufferings.--Dreadful attack of wolves.--Our recapture._

Some months after Malinda had recovered from her sickness, I got
permission from the Deacon, on one Sabbath day, to attend a prayer
meeting, on a neighboring plantation, with a few old superannuated
slaves, although this was contrary to the custom of the country--for
slaves were not allowed to assemble for religious worship. Being more
numerous than the whites there was fear of rebellion, and the
overpowering of their oppressors in order to obtain freedom.

But this gentleman on whose plantation I attended the meeting was not
a Deacon nor a professor of religion. He was not afraid of a few old
Christian slaves rising up to kill their master because he allowed
them to worship God on the Sabbath day.

We had a very good meeting, although our exercises were not conducted
in accordance with an enlightened Christianity; for we had no
Bible--no intelligent leader--but a conscience, prompted by our own
reason, constrained us to worship God the Creator of all things.

When I returned home from meeting I told the other slaves what a good
time we had at our meeting, and requested them to go with me to
meeting there on the next Sabbath. As no slave was allowed to go from
the plantation on a visit without a written pass from his master, on
the next Sabbath several of us went to the Deacon, to get permission
to attend that prayer meeting; but he refused to let any go. I thought
I would slip off and attend the meeting and get back before he would
miss me, and would not know that I had been to the meeting.

When I returned home from the meeting as I approached the house I saw
Malinda, standing out at the fence looking in the direction in which I
was expected to return. She hailed my approach, not with joy, but with
grief. She was weeping under great distress of mind, but it was hard
for me to extort from her the reason why she wept. She finally
informed me that her master had found out that I had violated his law,
and I should suffer the penalty, which was five hundred lashes, on my
naked back.

I asked her how he knew that I had gone?

She said I had not long been gone before he called for me and I was
not to be found. He then sent the overseer on horseback to the place
where we were to meet to see if I was there. But when the overseer got
to the place, the meeting was over and I had gone back home, but had
gone a nearer route through the woods and the overseer happened not to
meet me. He heard that I had been there and hurried back home before
me and told the Deacon, who ordered him to take me on the next
morning, strip off my clothes, drive down four stakes in the ground
and fasten my limbs to them; then strike me five hundred lashes for
going to the prayer meeting. This was what distressed my poor
companion. She thought it was more than I could bear, and that it
would be the death of me. I concluded then to run away--but she
thought they would catch me with the blood hounds by their taking my
track. But to avoid them I thought I would ride off on one of the
Deacon's mules. She thought if I did, they would sell me.

"No matter, I will try it," said I, "let the consequences be what they
may. The matter can be no worse than it now is." So I tackled up the
Deacon's best mule with his saddle, &c., and started that night and
went off eight or ten miles from home. But I found the mule to be
rather troublesome, and was like to betray me by braying, especially
when he would see cattle, horses, or any thing of the kind in the
woods.

The second night from home I camped in a cane break down in the Red
river swamp not a great way off from the road, perhaps not twenty
rods, exposed to wild ferocious beasts which were numerous in that
section of country. On that night about the middle of the night the
mule heard the sound of horses feet on the road, and he commenced
stamping and trying to break away. As the horses seemed to come
nearer, the mule commenced trying to bray, and it was all that I could
do to prevent him from making a loud bray there in the woods, which
would have betrayed me.

I supposed that it was the overseer out with the dogs looking for me,
and I found afterwards that I was not mistaken. As soon as the people
had passed by, I mounted the mule and took him home to prevent his
betraying me. When I got near by home I stripped off the tackling and
turned the mule loose. I then slipt up to the cabin wherein my wife
laid and found her awake, much distressed about me. She informed me
that they were then out looking for me, and that the Deacon was bent
on flogging me nearly to death, and then selling me off from my
family. This was truly heart-rending to my poor wife; the thought of
our being torn apart in a strange land after having been sold away
from all her friends and relations, was more than she could bear.

The Deacon had declared that I should not only suffer for the crime of
attending a prayer meeting without his permission, and for running
away, but for the awful crime of stealing a jackass, which was death
by the law when committed by a negro.

But I well knew that I was regarded as property, and so was the ass;
and I thought if one piece of property took off another, there could
be no law violated in the act; no more sin committed in this than if
one jackass had rode off another.

But after consultation with my wife I concluded to take her and my
little daughter with me and they would be guilty of the same crime
that I was, so far as running away was concerned; and if the Deacon
sold one he might sell us all, and perhaps to the same person.

So we started off with our child that night, and made our way down to
the Red river swamps among the buzzing insects and wild beasts of the
forest. We wandered about in the wilderness for eight or ten days
before we were apprehended, striving to make our way from slavery; but
it was all in vain. Our food was parched corn, with wild fruit such as
pawpaws, percimmons, grapes, &c. We did at one time chance to find a
sweet potato patch where we got a few potatoes; but most of the time,
while we were out, we were lost. We wanted to cross the Red river but
could find no conveyance to cross in.

I recollect one day of finding a crooked tree which bent over the
river or over one fork of the river, where it was divided by an
island. I should think that the tree was at least twenty feet from
the surface of the water. I picked up my little child, and my wife
followed me, saying, "if we perish let us all perish together in the
stream." We succeeded in crossing over. I often look back to that
dangerous event even now with astonishment, and wonder how I could
have run such a risk. What would induce me to run the same risk now?
What could induce me now to leave home and friends and go to the wild
forest and lay out on the cold ground night after night without
covering, and live on parched corn?

What would induce me to take my family and go into the Red river
swamps of Louisiana among the snakes and alligators, with all the
liabilities of being destroyed by them, hunted down with blood hounds,
or lay myself liable to be shot down like the wild beasts of the
forest? Nothing I say, nothing but the strongest love of liberty,
humanity, and justice to myself and family, would induce me to run
such a risk again.

When we crossed over on the tree we supposed that we had crossed over
the main body of the river, but we had not proceeded far on our
journey before we found that we were on an Island surrounded by water
on either side. We made our bed that night in a pile of dry leaves
which had fallen from off the trees. We were much rest-broken,
wearied from hunger and travelling through briers, swamps and
cane-brakes--consequently we soon fell asleep after lying down. About
the dead hour of the night I was aroused by the awful howling of a
gang of blood-thirsty wolves, which had found us out and surrounded us
as their prey, there in the dark wilderness many miles from any house
or settlement.

My dear little child was so dreadfully alarmed that she screamed
loudly with fear--my wife trembling like a leaf on a tree, at the
thought of being devoured there in the wilderness by ferocious wolves.

The wolves kept howling, and were near enough for us to see their
glaring eyes, and hear their chattering teeth. I then thought that the
hour of death for us was at hand; that we should not live to see the
light of another day; for there was no way for our escape. My little
family were looking up to me for protection, but I could afford them
none. And while I was offering up my prayers to that God who never
forsakes those in the hour of danger who trust in him, I thought of
Deacon Whitfield; I thought of his profession, and doubted his piety.
I thought of his hand-cuffs, of his whips, of his chains, of his
stocks, of his thumb-screws, of his slave driver and overseer, and of
his religion; I also thought of his opposition to prayer meetings, and
of his five hundred lashes promised me for attending a prayer meeting.
I thought of God, I thought of the devil, I thought of hell; and I
thought of heaven, and wondered whether I should ever see the Deacon
there. And I calculated that if heaven was made up of such Deacons, or
such persons, it could not be filled with love to all mankind, and
with glory and eternal happiness, as we know it is from the truth of
the Bible.

The reader may perhaps think me tedious on this topic, but indeed it
is one of so much interest to me, that I find myself entirely unable
to describe what my own feelings were at that time. I was so much
excited by the fierce howling of the savage wolves, and the frightful
screams of my little family, that I thought of the future; I thought
of the past; I thought the time of my departure had come at last.

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