The History of Mary Prince | Page 3

All the slaves cried. My mother cried and lamented her sore; and I
(foolish creature!) vainly entreated them to bring my dear mistress back
to life. I knew nothing rightly about death then, and it seemed a hard
thing to bear. When I thought about my mistress I felt as if the world
was all gone wrong; and for many days and weeks I could think of
nothing else. I returned to Mrs. Pruden's; but my sorrow was too great
to be comforted, for my own dear mistress was always in my mind.
Whether in the house or abroad, my thoughts were always talking to
me about her.
I staid at Mrs. Pruden's about three months after this; I was then sent
back to Mr. Williams to be sold. Oh, that was a sad sad time! I recollect
the day well. Mrs. Pruden came to me and said, "Mary, you will have to
go home directly; your master is going to be married, and he means to
sell you and two of your sisters to raise money for the wedding."
Hearing this I burst out a crying,--though I was then far from being
sensible of the full weight of my misfortune, or of the misery that
waited for me. Besides, I did not like to leave Mrs. Pruden, and the dear
baby, who had grown very fond of me. For some time I could scarcely
believe that Mrs. Pruden was in earnest, till I received orders for my
immediate return.--Dear Miss Fanny! how she cried at parting with me,
whilst I kissed and hugged the baby, thinking I should never see him
again. I left Mrs. Pruden's, and walked home with a heart full of sorrow.
The idea of being sold away from my mother and Miss Betsey was so
frightful, that I dared not trust myself to think about it. We had been
bought of Mr. Myners, as I have mentioned, by Miss Betsey's
grandfather, and given to her, so that we were by right her property,

and I never thought we should be separated or sold away from her.
When I reached the house, I went in directly to Miss Betsey. I found
her in great distress; and she cried out as soon as she saw me, "Oh,
Mary! my father is going to sell you all to raise money to marry that
wicked woman. You are my slaves, and he has no right to sell you; but
it is all to please her." She then told me that my mother was living with
her father's sister at a house close by, and I went there to see her. It was
a sorrowful meeting; and we lamented with a great and sore crying our
unfortunate situation. "Here comes one of my poor picaninnies!" she
said, the moment I came in, "one of the poor slave-brood who are to be
sold to-morrow."
Oh dear! I cannot bear to think of that day,--it is too much.--It recalls
the great grief that filled my heart, and the woeful thoughts that passed
to and fro through my mind, whilst listening to the pitiful words of my
poor mother, weeping for the loss of her children. I wish I could find
words to tell you all I then felt and suffered. The great God above alone
knows the thoughts of the poor slave's heart, and the bitter pains which
follow such separations as these. All that we love taken away from
us--Oh, it is sad, sad! and sore to be borne!--I got no sleep that night for
thinking of the morrow; and dear Miss Betsey was scarcely less
distressed. She could not bear to part with her old playmates, and she
cried sore and would not be pacified.
The black morning at length came; it came too soon for my poor
mother and us. Whilst she was putting on us the new osnaburgs in
which we were to be sold, she said, in a sorrowful voice, (I shall never
forget it!) "See, I am shrouding my poor children; what a task for a
mother!"--She then called Miss Betsey to take leave of us. "I am going
to carry my little chickens to market," (these were her very words,)
"take your last look of them; may be you will see them no more." "Oh,
my poor slaves! my own slaves!" said dear Miss Betsey, "you belong to
me; and it grieves my heart to part with you."--Miss Betsey kissed us
all, and, when she left us, my mother called the rest of the slaves to bid
us good bye. One of them, a woman named Moll, came with her infant
in her arms. "Ay!" said my mother, seeing her turn away and look at

her child with the tears in her eyes, "your turn will come