When they had all got out the Sergeant was pushed into the cell and the door locked. The guard at the head of the stairs shouted, loud enough for the Sergeant to hear him: “Go back, or I’ll shoot! go back!” all the time expecting they would rush up and disarm him; but the cowards, fearing he was in earnest, fell back and unlocked the door, released the Sergeant, and gave him back his pistol without unlocking the door to our room.
Not knowing that the prisoners in our room were in the plot, the Sergeant paid no attention to us, but calling the officer of the guard, told him what had occurred.
They took the negro out into the hall, and bringing up a plank, proceeded to lash him securely to it, with his face down, after having stripped him.
They then took a strap something like a tug to a single harness, and gave him one hundred lashes with it upon his bare back, the blood flowing at every blow.
We had cut slits in the door, and through them watched this brutal transaction. I watched the operation of binding him with some curiosity and a good deal of indignation, and was astonished to find such brutality among those who professed civilization. Unaccustomed to such scenes, I must say it was the most sickening transaction I ever witnessed.
The shrieks and groans of this poor fellow, was enough to send a chill of horror through the most hardened. He begged for mercy in the most piteous terms, and as the cruel strap laid open the quivering flesh, and the blood trickled down his body, I shouted indignantly to his inhuman persecutors, that the poor fellow was not to blame, half as much as the white men; that he was only carrying out the instructions of the cowardly whites, who had basely deserted him after promising to stand by him. I told them that the poor ignorant black’s only fault had been, his confidence in the courage of his white associates, to as faithfully carry out their part of the programme, as he had carried out his.
That if any one should be punished it should be those whose lack of sand had got this poor fellow into a scrape and then like cowards basely deserted him. Finding that the infuriated monsters were bound to vent their spite upon this poor fellow, I turned away, and by holding my hands to my ears tried to shut out the sound of his pitiful cries for mercy. While reason remains to me I can never forget the scenes of that terrible night.
And to those inhuman monsters it seemed a pleasant pastime—such is the brutalizing effect of the system of human slavery. Once in a life-time is enough to witness such a revolting scene as this; I have witnessed one such, and I trust in God it may never be my misfortune to be obliged to witness another.
After this exhibition of fiendish cruelty, I am ready to believe that the system of human slavery was capable of developing total depravity into the hearts of slave holders. What man in the North could look on complacently and see such a cruel punishment inflicted? And yet the Southern whites seemed to look upon this brutality as a matter of course, and even before the preparations were made for the flogging, knew what would be the punishment inflicted upon the poor black, for his unsuccessful attempt to liberate his white skinned, and white livered comrades; and while they seemed to feel a sort of sympathy for their black skinned, but brave hearted comrade, they offered no remonstrance to his cruel tormentors, nor made a plea for mercy in his behalf.
When they seemed to become exhausted with their violent exercise, in swinging that cruel strap, they began to question the poor, fainting negro thus: