r dear little eyes, sobbing and trying
to tell her mother that she had been abused, but was not able to utter
a word. Her little face was bruised black with the whole print of Mrs.
Gatewood's hand. This print was plainly to be seen for eight days
after it was done. But oh! this darling child was a slave; born of a
slave mother. Who can imagine what could be the feelings of a father
and mother, when looking upon their infant child whipped and tortured
with impunity, and they placed in a situation where they could afford
it no protection. But we were all claimed and held as property; the
father and mother were slaves!

On this same plantation I was compelled to stand and see my wife
shamefully scourged and abused by her master; and the manner in which
this was done, was so violently and inhumanly committed upon the
person of a female, that I despair in finding decent language to
describe the bloody act of cruelty. My happiness or pleasure was then
all blasted; for it was sometimes a pleasure to be with my little
family even in slavery. I loved them as my wife and child. Little
Frances was a pretty child; she was quiet, playful, bright, and
interesting. She had a keen black eye, and the very image of her
mother was stamped upon her cheek; but I could never look upon the
dear child without being filled with sorrow and fearful apprehensions,
of being separated by slaveholders, because she was a slave, regarded
as property. And unfortunately for me, I am the father of a slave, a
word too obnoxious to be spoken by a fugitive slave. It calls fresh to
my mind the separation of husband and wife; of stripping, tying up and
flogging; of tearing children from their parents, and selling them on
the auction block. It calls to mind female virtue trampled under foot
with impunity. But oh! when I remember that my daughter, my only
child, is still there, destined to share the fate of all these
calamities, it is too much to bear. If ever there was any one act of
my life while a slave, that I have to lament over, it is that of being
a father and a husband of slaves. I have the satisfaction of knowing
that I am only the father of one slave. She is bone of my bone, and
flesh of my flesh; poor unfortunate child. She was the first and shall
be the last slave that ever I will father, for chains and slavery on
this earth.

FOOTNOTES:

[2] The distinction among slaves is as marked, as the classes of
society are in any aristocratic community.