Up From Slavery: An Autobiography | Page 9

my corn ground and
reached home it would be far into the night. The road was a lonely one, and often led
through dense forests. I was always frightened. The woods were said to be full of soldiers
who had deserted from the army, and I had been told that the first thing a deserter did to a
Negro boy when he found him alone was to cut off his ears. Besides, when I was late in
getting home I knew I would always get a severe scolding or a flogging.
I had no schooling whatever while I was a slave, though I remember on several occasions
I went as far as the schoolhouse door with one of my young mistresses to carry her books.
The picture of several dozen boys and girls in a schoolroom engaged in study made a
deep impression upon me, and I had the feeling that to get into a schoolhouse and study
in this way would be about the same as getting into paradise.
So far as I can now recall, the first knowledge that I got of the fact that we were slaves,
and that freedom of the slaves was being discussed, was early one morning before day,
when I was awakened by my mother kneeling over her children and fervently praying
that Lincoln and his armies might be successful, and that one day she and her children
might be free. In this connection I have never been able to understand how the slaves
throughout the South, completely ignorant as were the masses so far as books or

newspapers were concerned, were able to keep themselves so accurately and completely
informed about the great National questions that were agitating the country. From the
time that Garrison, Lovejoy, and others began to agitate for freedom, the slaves
throughout the South kept in close touch with the progress of the movement. Though I
was a mere child during the preparation for the Civil War and during the war itself, I now
recall the many late-at-night whispered discussions that I heard my mother and the other
slaves on the plantation indulge in. These discussions showed that they understood the
situation, and that they kept themselves informed of events by what was termed the
"grape-vine" telegraph.
During the campaign when Lincoln was first a candidate for the Presidency, the slaves on
our far-off plantation, miles from any railroad or large city or daily newspaper, knew
what the issues involved were. When war was begun between the North and the South,
every slave on our plantation felt and knew that, though other issues were discussed, the
primal one was that of slavery. Even the most ignorant members of my race on the
remote plantations felt in their hearts, with a certainty that admitted of no doubt, that the
freedom of the slaves would be the one great result of the war, if the northern armies
conquered. Every success of the Federal armies and every defeat of the Confederate
forces was watched with the keenest and most intense interest. Often the slaves got
knowledge of the results of great battles before the white people received it. This news
was usually gotten from the coloured man who was sent to the post-office for the mail. In
our case the post-office was about three miles from the plantation, and the mail came
once or twice a week. The man who was sent to the office would linger about the place
long enough to get the drift of the conversation from the group of white people who
naturally congregated there, after receiving their mail, to discuss the latest news. The
mail-carrier on his way back to our master's house would as naturally retail the news that
he had secured among the slaves, and in this way they often heard of important events
before the white people at the "big house," as the master's house was called.
I cannot remember a single instance during my childhood or early boyhood when our
entire family sat down to the table together, and God's blessing was asked, and the family
ate a meal in a civilized manner. On the plantation in Virginia, and even later, meals were
gotten by the children very much as dumb animals get theirs. It was a piece of bread here
and a scrap of meat there. It was a cup of milk at one time and some potatoes at another.
Sometimes a portion of our family would eat out of the skillet or pot, while some one else
would eat from a tin plate held on the knees, and often using nothing but the hands with
which to hold the food. When I had grown to sufficient size, I was required to go to the
"big house" at meal-times to fan the