FEBRUARY 26.
I had given the most positive orders that no person whatever should presume to strike a negro, or give him abusive language, or, however great the offence might be, should inflict any punishment, except by the sole direction of the trustee himself. Yet, although I had already discharged one bookkeeper on this account, this evening another of them had a dispute in the boiling-house with an African named Frank, because a pool of water was not removed fast enough; upon which he called him a rascal, sluiced him with the dirty water, and finally knocked him down with the broom. The African came to me instantly; four eye-witnesses, who were examined separately, proved the truth of his ill-usage; and I immediately discharged the book-keeper, who had contented himself with simply denying the blow having been given by him: but I told him that I could not possibly allow his single unsupported denial to outweigh five concordant witnesses to the assertion; and that, if he grounded his claim to being believed merely upon his having a white skin, he would find that, on Cornwall estate at least, that claim would not be admitted. The fact was established as evident as the sun; and nothing should induce me to retain him on my property, except his finding some means of appeasing the injured negro, and prevailing on him to intercede in his behalf. This was an humiliation to which he could not bring himself to stoop; and, accordingly, the man has left the estate. Probably, indeed, the attempt at reconciliation would have been unsuccessful; for when one of his companions asked Frank whether, if Mr. Barker would make him a present, he had not better take it, and beg massa to let him stay, he exclaimed, in the true spirit of a Zanga,—“No, no, no! me no want present! me no want noting! Me no beg for Mr. Barker! him go away!”—I was kept awake the greatest part of the night by the songs and rejoicings of the negroes, at their triumph over the offending book-keeper.