He did not relish this kind of talk, for he did not wish to pay my wages and not have my service, so he told me to shut my head or he would break it. Of course I said no more.
We soon arrived at the dreaded place, and were left seated in the piazza awaiting our trial, a constable being present to watch us. I asked him for a drink of water, when he said, “Would you not like a glass of brandy?” a drink very acceptable on such occasions. I replied in the affirmative, when he brought out a half-pint tumbler nearly full, of which I drank the whole. This roused my courage, and I felt brave. My expected punishment was not half as much dreaded as before.
The court being ready, we were brought before his honor, Justice Barber, uncle to my master. David was first tried, declared guilty, and sentenced to have 39 lashes well laid upon his bare back.
My case was next in order, but Mr. Barber, instead of preferring any charge against me, told the Judge he would forgive me this time, as he thought I would do better in future. Upon this the old man, raising his spectacles and looking at me, said, “Do you think you can behave, so as not to have to be brought before me again?” “Yes sir,” I answered quickly. “Well sir,” he said, “go home to your work, and if you are brought before me again, I will order the skin all taken from your back!”
The rope was taken off my hands, and I was told to go in peace and sin no more. I waited to see the fate of poor David. He was taken to the whipping post, strung up until his toes scarce touched the ground, his back stripped and whipped until the blood flowed in streams to the ground. When he was taken down he staggered like a drunken man. We returned together, talking over the matter on the way. He said, “O, I wish I could die! I am whipped for no fault of my own. I wish I had killed him, and been hung at once; I should have been better off.” I felt sorry for him.
I determined then, if he struck me again, I would kill him. I expected another attack, and accordingly planned where I would conceal his body, where it would not readily be found, in case no one saw me perform the act. But God overruled. He had his destiny fixed, and no mortal could resist it,—no mortal arm could stay his mighty purpose. But I must hasten to the close of the year.
Mr. Barber had a most luxuriant crop of tobacco nearly ripe and ready for the harvest. Tobacco is so delicate a plant, that it will not stand the frost, and if exposed to it is thereby rendered nearly useless. Our crops had all been gathered except two fields, when by a sudden change in the wind to the north, it became so cold as to threaten a frost, which would probably destroy the tobacco remaining in the field. Mr. Barber feared this, and notwithstanding it was the Sabbath, ordered his slaves to go and secure the remainder of the crop.
Soon all hands were in the field at work. No other farmer in the neighborhood went out, all, excepting Mr. B. being willing to trust their crops to Him who had given them; although many had larger quantities exposed. Being angry with the great Omnipotent for this threatening arrangement of his providence, Mr. Barber fell to beating his slaves on the Lord’s day. But his suspected enemy did not come; his fears were groundless. The night cleared off warm, and no frost came.
“God moves in a mysterious way,
“His wonders to perform;