A Woman's Life-Work — Labors and Experiences of Laura S. Haviland

by Laura S. Haviland

One man I saw with a shred of an ear, and I inquired how his ear became torn like that. He hesitated to tell me, but one of his fellow-slaves said it was done by order of their master; that he was stripped and fastened by a large nail driven through his ear to a tree, and the overseer was directed to whip him on his naked body until his writhings tore his ear out, and that only ended the punishment. One man by the name of Matthew Lasley, living within two miles of this city, owned one hundred slaves, and was his own overseer. He worked his slaves early and late, and was proverbial for cruelty to them. They were not half fed or clothed. A few days after he had sold the wife and child of his slave Jack, they were burning log heaps and clearing off a few acres of new ground. They had worked until about midnight, and were preparing to "turn in." Jack had split an armful of kindling-wood, and was now ready to go to his lonely hut. Then his utter desolation rolled in upon his mind. When his master stooped over to light his cigar, the thought came to him like a flash to kill him, and then he too would die, and so would end his bitter days. No sooner was the thought conceived than the act was done. The ax was buried in Lasley's head; and he sank, a dead man, without uttering a word. Jack came immediately to the city, tapped on the window of Dr. Smith's sleeping apartment, the son-in-law of Lasley, and told him he wanted him to go at once to the new clearing with him. When the doctor went out Jack told him that he had killed his master.

"What did you do it for?"

"Master sole my wife and chile, an' I don't want to live any longer. Now, master, you may shoot me, or take me to jail, or do any thing you're a min' to."

"Well, Jack, I know you've had a hard time; but I shall have to take you to jail, any how, and see what the court will do."

After ordering Lasley's body to be taken care of, he returned to his wife and told her all, and added that he wondered he had not been killed long before, as it was what he had looked for. Dr. Smith employed one of the best lawyers in the city to plead Jack's case, and had all the Lasley slaves brought into court, not one of whom was without marks of cruelty—a broken arm or leg, an ear cut off, or an eye out. They were all in a nearly nude condition, three children under ten years of age entirely so. The daughter begged her husband to allow better clothes for them; but the doctor and the lawyer insisted upon their coming into court with just the clothing provided for them by their master The lawyer made an eloquent plea for Jack, and pointed to the hundred slaves, maimed and crippled and almost naked, and Jack was acquitted. Lasley's extreme cruelty had created a public sentiment in Jack's favor, so that unexpectedly to himself his life was saved. Jack was hunting for his wife and child among the multitude, but had not yet succeeded in finding them.

Week after week was spent in making personal investigations, measuring and preparing bundles for those nearly naked. As new refugees were daily coming in, the officers found it necessary to organize a new camp over the river, in the rear of Vidalia, Louisiana, on the Ralston plantation. As a few hundred were gathered there we went over and found them exceedingly destitute. There were twenty families, mostly of those recently enlisted as soldiers. Some of them were almost ready to desert. Said one, "They say we are free, and what sort of freedom is this, for us to see our families without a board, shingle, or canvas to cover their heads? We are concluding to leave our regiment and build something to shelter our wives and children. They haven't got a place to sleep at night except in the open field." We told them we would make their families our first care, and advised them not to leave. Upon this they became more calm, and concluded to wait armpits, as I chose to keep my arms out in case of tipping over. Here came brother Reed, one of the teachers, offering to aid me; but he had no pass or transportation, and no time to get it. I called the attention of a passing general to my necessity for help, to be able to return before the firing of the sundown gun. He said if he was in command he would allow him to go with my load, and advised him to try it. On we hastened, but met an ambulance that Captain Howe had sent to the new camp for a sick woman with two small children. It was obliged to return, not being able to pass through the lines, as the provost marshal was not to be found. The supposition was very strong that the lines were closed, as it was the weakest point in the post, and the smoke of rebel fires was in sight on Lake Concordia. A battle had been fought a few days before, and another attack was-daily threatened. The driver and brother Reed were doubting the propriety of crossing the river. "For if the lines are closed," they said, "the President himself would not be permitted to pass." But I told them as they did not positively know that the lines were closed, we had better cross.

"It is your load, and if you say go we shall go," said brother Reed.

"I say go," was my decision.

Soon we were in front of the provost marshal's office. But he was not there, and no one knew where he was. After a long search, in accordance with my plea, some of the guards discovered and brought him back, reeling, with his head of long hair thoroughly decorated with feathers and straws. I met him in his office and read to him my papers, holding, them before his face as I would exhibit a picture to a two-year old baby. After explaining all, I made my request to pass his lines with my load of supplies.

"Who—who's there?"