[CHAPTER IV.]
SOME ACCOUNT OF RIDGEWOOD HILL, AND THE AUTHOR'S OCCUPATIONS.
My master's lands lay on and near the Potomac, and his house was built on a hill, which bore his own name, and gave name also to the estate—that is, Ridgewood Hill. It overlooked that wide and beautiful river, being separated from it only by a lawn, which in the centre was hollow, and ran down to the river in a ravine, while its flanks or extremities, sloping but gently in their whole course, suddenly fell down to the shore in wooded bluffs, that looked very bold and romantic from the water. In the hollow of the lawn was a little brook, that rose from a spring further up the hill, and found its way to the river through the ravine, where it made many pretty little pools and cascades among the bushes; while a creek, that was wide but shallow, swept in from the river above, and went winding away among the hills behind.
My master's house was ancient, and, I must say, not in so good repair as it might have been; but there were so many beautiful trees about it that one would not think of its defects, the more especially as it appeared only the more venerable for them. It looked handsome enough from the river; and even from the negro-huts, which were nearer the creek, it had an agreeable appearance; particularly when the children were playing together on the lawn, which they did, and sometimes white and black together, nearly all day long. They were thus engaged in their sports when aunt Phoebe drove me from the hovel; and I remember how soon my indignation at the unceremonious ejection was pacified by looking on the happy creatures, thus enjoying themselves on the grass, while my master and his eldest daughter sat on the porch, regarding them with smiles.
How greatly I had changed within a few short days! Instead of being moved by the sight of juvenile independence and happiness to think of my own bitter state of servitude, I was filled with a foolish glee; and little Tommy running up to me with shouts of joy, down I dropped on my hands and knees, and taking him on my back, began to trot, and gallop, and rear, and curvet over the lawn, to the infinite gratification of himself, his little sisters, and the children of my own colour, all of whom rewarded my efforts of horseship with screams of approbation. Now the reader will be surprised to hear it, but I, Tom the slave (I never remember to have heard myself called any thing but Tom), enjoyed this foolish sport just as much as Tommy the rider, to whom I felt, I think, some such feelings of affection—I know not how I got them, but feel them I did—as a father experiences while playing the courser to his own child. Nay, I was thrown into such good-humour, and felt so content with myself, that when my master came to me, and bade me "take care lest I should hurt myself by my exertions," I told him, in the fervour of my heart, I was doing very well, and that I was as strong as ever I had been; which caused him to laugh, and say I was growing marvellous honest of a sudden.
About this time the field-hands returned from their daily labour, and, having despatched their evening meal, they came, the women and children with them, under the trees before the door, with banjoes, fiddles, and clacking-bones (that is, a sort of castanets made of the ribs of an ox), and began to sing and dance, as was their custom always every fair evening; for my master greatly delighted, as he said, to see the poor devils enjoy themselves; in which the poor devils were ever ready to oblige him. They had no sooner begun the diversion, than I was seized with an unaccountable desire to join them, which I did, dancing with all my might, and singing and clapping my hands, the merriest and happiest of them all. And this sort of amusement, I may as well now inform the reader, we were in the habit of repeating so long as the mildness of the weather permitted.