From the Darkness Cometh the Light | Page 5

with the same direful results as chronicled before.
But I could not help it, as heaven is my witness. I was entirely and
hopelessly ignorant! But of course my mistress would not believe it,
and declared over and over again, that I did it on purpose to provoke
her and show my defiance of her wishes. In vain did I disclaim any
such intentions. She was bound to carry out her threat of whipping me.

I rebelled against such government, and would not permit her to strike
me; she used shovel, tongs and broomstick in vain, as I disarmed her as
fast as she picked up each weapon. Infuriated at her failure, my
opposition and determination not to be whipped, Mrs. Mitchell
declared she would report me to Mr. Mitchell and have him punish me.
When her husband returned home, she immediately entered a list of
complaints against me as long as the moral law, including my failure to
wash her clothes properly, and her inability to break my head for it; the
last indictment seemed to be the heaviest she could bring against me. I
was in the shadow of the doorway as the woman raved, while Mr.
Mitchell listened patiently until the end of his wife's grievances reached
an appeal to him to whip me with the strength that a man alone could
possess.
Then he declared, "Martha, this thing of cutting up and slashing
servants is something I know nothing about, and positively will not do.
I don't believe in slavery, anyhow; it is a curse on this land, and I wish
we were well rid of it."
"Mr. Mitchell, I will not have that saucy baggage around this house, for
if she finds you won't whip her, there will be no living with her, so you
shall just sell her, and I insist upon it."
"Well, Martha," he answered, "I found the girl with you when we were
married, and as you claim her as yours, I shall not interpose any
objections to the disposal of what you choose to call your property, in
any manner you see fit, and I will make arrangements for selling her at
once."
I distinctly overheard all that was said, and was just as determined not
to be sold as I was not to be whipped. My mother's lawyer had told her
to caution me never to go out of the city, if, at any time, the white
people wanted me to go, so I was quite settled as to my course, in case
Mr. Mitchell undertook to sell me.
Several days after this conversation took place, Mrs. Mitchell, with her
baby and nurse, Lucy Wash, made a visit to her grandmother's, leaving

orders that I should be sold before her return; so I was not surprised to
be ordered by Mr. Mitchell to pack up my clothes and get ready to go
down the river, for I was to be sold that morning, and leave, on the
steamboat Alex. Scott, at 3 o'clock in the afternoon.
"Can't I go see my mother, first?" I asked.
"No," he replied, not very gently, "there is no time for that, you can see
her when you come back. So hurry up and get ready, and let us have no
more words about it!"
How I did hate him! To hear him talk as if I were going to take a
pleasure trip, when he knew that if he sold me South, as he intended, I
would never see my dear mother again.
However, I hastily ran up stairs and packed my trunk, but my mother's
injunction, "never to go out of the city," was ever present in my mind.
Mr. Mitchell was Superintendent of Indian Affairs, his office being in
the dwelling house, and I could hear him giving orders to his clerk, as I
ran lightly down the stairs, out of the front door to the street, and with
fleet foot, I skimmed the road which led to my mother's door, and,
reaching it, stood trembling in every limb with terror and fatigue.
I could not gain admittance, as my mother was away to work and the
door was locked. A white woman, living next door, and who was
always friendly to mother, told me that she would not return until night.
I clasped my hands in despair and cried, "Oh! the white people have
sold me, and I had to run away to keep from being sent down the river."
This white lady, whose name I am sorry I cannot remember,
sympathized with me, as she knew my mother's story and had written
many letters for her, so she offered me the key of her house, which,
fortunately, fitted my mother's door, and I was soon inside, cowering
with fear in the