“Well, by this time, old mistress come, and hit me a slap on the backsides, with one of these ’ere old-fashioned Dutch fire-slices, and it didn’t set very asy ‘nother; but I still hung on to one ear, and fetched her a side-winder right across the bridge of her old nose, and she fell backwards, and out come the key of the door out of her pocket; and ‘Lecta got the key, and run and opened the door—for the noise had brought the gals down like fury; and I gin his old head one more mortal jam with both hands, and pummelled his old belly once more hard, and leaped out of the door, and put out for the barn.
“At night I come back, and there was somethin’ better for my supper than I had had since I lived there. I set down to eat; and he come out into the kitchen with his cane, and cussed, and swore, and ripped, and tore; and I says, ‘Master, you may cuss and swear as much as you please; but on the peril of your life, don’t you lay a finger on me;’ and there was a big old-fashioned butcher-knife lay on the table, and I says to him, ‘Just as sure as you do, I’ll run that butcher-knife through you, and clinch it.’ I had the worst oath I ever took in all my life, and spoke so savage, that I fairly scart him.
“I told him to give me a paper to look a new master; for you see, there was a law, that if a slave, in them days, wanted to change masters, on account of cruelty, that his old master must give him a paper, and he could git a new one, if he could find a man that would buy him. At fust he said he would give me a paper in the mornin’, but right off he says, ‘No, I swear I won’t; I’ll have the pleasure of killin’ on you myself!’ ☜
“So he cussed, and finally, went into the other room; and the gals says, ‘Peter, now is your time; stick to him, and you’ll either make it better or worse for you.’
“So I goes off to bed, and takes with me a walnut flail swingle; and I crawled into my nest of rags, and lay on my elbow all night; and if a rat or a mouse stirred, I trembled, for I expected every minute he’d be a comin’ up with a rifle to shoot me; and I didn’t sleep a wink all that night. And I swore to Almighty God, that the fust time I got a chance I’d clear from his reach; and I prayed to the God of freedom to help me get free.”
A. “Well, Peter, it’s late now, and we’ll leave that part of the story for another chapter.”[[11]]
[11]. All this is a true picture of slavery and oppression, all over the globe. Man is not fit to possess irresponsible power—God never designed it; and every experiment on earth has proved the awful consequence of perverting God’s design. I know it will be said by almost every reader, who closes this chapter, that this was an isolated and peculiar case; but I know, from observation, that there is nothing at all peculiar in it to the system of slavery; and when the judgment day shall come, and the history of every slaveholder is opened, in letters of fire, upon the gaze of the whole universe, that there will be something peculiarly dark and awful in every chapter of oppression which the universe shall see unfolded. And if I could quote but one text of God’s Bible, in the ear of every slaveholder in creation, it would be that astounding assertion—“When he maketh inquisition for blood he remembereth them.”
CHAPTER V.
Peter’s master prosecuted for abusing him, and fined $500, and put under a bond of $2000 for good behavior—Peter for a long time has a plan for running away, and the girls help him in it—“the big eclipse of 1806”—Peter starts at night to run away, and the girls carry him ten miles on his road—the parting scene—travels all night, and next day sleeps in a hollow log in the woods—accosted by a man on the Skeneateles bridge—sleeps in a barn—is discovered—two pain’ters on the road—discovered and pursued—frightened by a little girl—encounter with “two black gentlemen with a white ring round their necks”—“Ingens” chase him—“Utica quite a thrifty little place”—hires out nine days—Little Falls—hires out on a boat to go to “Snackady”—makes three trips—is discovered by Morehouse ☜—the women help him to escape to Albany—hires out on Truesdell’s sloop—meets master in the street—goes to New York—a reward of $100 offered for him—Capt. comes to take him back to his master, for “one hundred dollars don’t grow on every bush”—“feels distressedly”—but Capt. Truesdell promises to protect him, “as long as grass grows and water runs—he follows the river.