Chatham

Aaron Siddles

By the law of Almighty God, I was born free,—by the law of man a slave. I was born in South Carolina: was raised in Murfreesboro’, Tenn., until nineteen. I was taken into Kentucky, and sold three times. Then I was sold to one of the worst negro-traders that ever was, to be taken five miles below Baton Rouge. While he was purchasing more, I gave my guard the slip, and went into the bush five months. In this time I slept in no man’s house nor barn: I felt that there were only two persons in the world I could trust: one girl, Lavina Robinson, who brought me food from a white man, and that white man himself, Timothy Guard. Mr. Guard knew me well,—I was his foreman—cooper. He offered $1,000 for me: the trader would n’t take it. Guard lent me the money—I offered it for myself. The trader said, “I know you had that money of Guard, and I won’t please him. I want you—you ‘ll make a first-rate nigger-driver.” I felt I would rather be killed than go. I was only afraid they ‘d chain me: I think they were afraid to undertake it. I was a stout man, and have lifted seven hundred and fifty pounds—a steamboat shaft. It was on a bet; a Southerner bet a new coat he had against five dollars, that I could not life it. I lifted it with ease, and took the coat.

I took to the woods as I said. The trader got discouraged, and sold the chance of me to Guard for $1,000. The conditions were, if Guard ever saw me in the United States, he was to pay the money. He saw me the next night, for I went in. I had a previous understanding with Guard, that if he bought me, I was to have a chance to buy myself. He gave me a paper signed before witnesses, that I was to be free, when I paid him $1,600. He also gave me papers stating that I was allowed to trade for myself: if I would not pay, he would, and if any one would not pay me, he would compel them. I went to work as steward of a steamboat. At first, I got $35 a month, which raised till I got $100 a month. I paid off Guard between six and seven years after: still remained on the boats, and, in all, I worked eleven years with one man at $100 a month,—and he would give me that now, if I would go back.

On passing up or down the Mississippi, between slave States, the first thing I heard in the morning was the sound of the great bells, which are rung to call the slaves. The next thing, before it was light enough to see, I heard the crack of the overseer’s whip, and the cries of the slaves, “Oh! pray, Mas’r! Oh! pray, Mas’r!” Every morning I heard it from both sides of the river.

Living in Indiana, I was dissatisfied with the laws of the country. I had a good deal of property there; it was not safe, for any loafing white might destroy or steal, and unless a white man were by to see it, I could get no redress.

One time in Indiana, seven white fellows, without provocation, threw brickbats at my house, and broke my windows. I was so mad, that I seized my gun and pursued them, and put some small shot in the backs of two of them. Dr. F. would not take out the shot, unless they would tell him where they got them. They told him they had been to steal watermelons; had not got any; and on passing my house, they threw the brickbats because colored people lived there. The Dr. blamed them, said I was as much esteemed and respected as any man there. They owned they had no cause. I afterward made it known that, as my oath was good for nothing, if any white man interfered with me, or trespassed on my property, I would make him a witness.

I removed to Canada, where I would have an equal oath with any man, when any thing occurred; where I would have every right that every man has. I brought ten thousand dollars into Canada with me, and I find profitable employment for my capital here.

Excepting for the oppressive laws, I would rather have remained in Indiana. I left one of the most beautiful places in that country—everybody who sees it says it is a beautiful place. I had a two-story frame house, with piazza—good stable—and every arrangement about the premises was nice and convenient. I had abundance of apples, peaches, quinces, plums, and grapes. I paid my taxes, and felt hurt and angry too, that I was not allowed my oath—there was no justice in it. The road tax, I would notwork out. They threatened to sue me. I told them I would stand a lawsuit first, and take it to the Supreme Court. “What!” said I, “shall a white man drive against me, on this very road, and break my wagon, and I get no redress? No! when you give me my oath, I’ll work on the roads.” They never sued me. I suffered oppression in being obliged to leave my place to claim my rights as a man.

I blame for this the tories and turncoats of the free States. They don’t put in right men, that are true to their country. They are chosen to represent the free States, but they act with the South. Just exactly what they call dough-faces.

I was never taught to read or write.

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This work (The Refugee: or the Narratives of Fugitive Slaves in Canada by Benjamin Drew) is free of known copyright restrictions.