第22章 Chapter VII.(1)

　　On leaving， the New-Orleans slave pen， Harry and Ifollowed our new master through the streets， while Eliza，crying and turning back， was forced along by Freemanand his minions， until we found ourselves on boardthe steamboat Rodolph， then lying at the levee. In thecourse of half an hour we were moving briskly up theMississippi， bound for some point on Red River. Therewere quite a number of slaves on board beside ourselves，just purchased in the New-Orleans market. I remembera Mr. Kelsow， who was said to be a well known andextensive planter， had in charge a gang of women.

　　Our master’s name was William Ford. He resided thenin the “Great Pine Woods，” in the parish of Avoyelles，situated on the right bank of Red River， in the heart ofLouisiana. He is now a Baptist preacher. Throughoutthe whole parish of Avoyelles， and especially along bothshores of Bayou Boeuf， where he is more intimatelyknown， he is accounted by his fellow-citizens as a worthyminister of God. In many northern minds， perhaps，the idea of a man holding his brother man in servitude，and the traffic in human flesh， may seem altogetherincompatible with their conceptions of a moral orreligious life. From deions of such men as Burch and074

　　Freeman， and others hereinafter mentioned， they are ledto despise and execrate the whole class of slaveholders，indiscriminately. But I was sometime his slave， andhad an opportunity of learning well his character anddisposition， and it is but simple justice to him whenI say， in my opinion， there never was a more kind，noble， candid， Christian man than William Ford. Theinfluences and associations that had always surroundedhim， blinded him to the inherent wrong at the bottomof the system of Slavery. He never doubted the moralright of one man holding another in subjection. Lookingthrough the same medium with his fathers before him，he saw things in the same light. Brought up under othercircumstances and other influences， his notions wouldundoubtedly have been different. Nevertheless， he was amodel master， walking uprightly， according to the light ofhis understanding， and fortunate was the slave who cameto his possession. Were all men such as he， Slavery wouldbe deprived of more than half its bitterness.

　　We were two days and three nights on board thesteamboat Rodolph， during which time nothing ofparticular interest occurred. I was now known as Platt， thename given me by Burch， and by which I was designatedthrough the whole period of my servitude. Eliza was soldby the name of “Dradey.” She was so distinguished inthe conveyance to Ford， now on record in the recorder’soffice in New-Orleans.

　　On our passage I was constantly reflecting on my situation， and consulting with myself on the best course topursue in order to effect my ultimate escape. Sometimes，not only then， but afterwards， I was almost on the pointof disclosing fully to Ford the facts of my history. I aminclined now to the opinion it would have resulted in mybenefit. This course was often considered， but throughfear of its miscarriage， never put into execution， untileventually my transfer and his pecuniary embarrassmentsrendered it evidently unsafe. Afterwards， under othermasters， unlike William Ford， I knew well enough theslightest knowledge of my real character would consignme at once to the remoter depths of Slavery. I was toocostly a chattel to be lost， and was well aware that I wouldbe taken farther on， into some by-place， over the Texanborder， perhaps， and sold； that I would be disposed ofas the thief disposes of his stolen horse， if my right tofreedom was even whispered. So I resolved to lock thesecret closely in my heart—never to utter one word orsyllable as to who or what I was—trusting in Providenceand my own shrewdness for deliverance.

　　At length we left the steamboat Rodolph at a placecalled Alexandria， several hundred miles from New-Orleans. It is a small town on the southern shore of RedRiver. Having remained there over night， we enteredthe morning train of cars， and were soon at BayouLamourie， a still smaller place， distant eighteen milesfrom Alexandria. At that time it was the terminationof the railroad. Ford’s plantation was situated on the076

　　Texas road， twelve miles from Lamourie， in the GreatPine Woods. This distance， it was announced to us，must be traveled on foot， there being public conveyancesno farther. Accordingly we all set out in the companyof Ford. It was an excessively hot day. Harry， Eliza，and myself were yet weak， and the bottoms of our feetwere very tender from the effects of the small-pox. Weproceeded slowly， Ford telling us to take our time andsit down and rest whenever we desired—a privilege thatwas taken advantage of quite frequently. After leavingLamourie and crossing two plantations， one belonging toMr. Carnell， the other to a Mr. Flint， we reached the PineWoods， a wilderness that stretches to the Sabine River.

　　The whole country about Red River is low and marshy.

　　The Pine Woods， as they are called， is comparativelyupland， with frequent small intervals， however， runningthrough them. This upland is covered with numeroustrees—the white oak， the chincopin， resembling chestnut，but principally the yellow pine. They are of great size，running up sixty feet， and perfectly straight. The woodswere full of cattle， very shy and wild， dashing away inherds， with a loud snuff， at our approach. Some of themwere marked or branded， the rest appeared to be in theirwild and untamed state. They are much smaller thannorthern breeds， and the peculiarity about them thatmost attracted my attention was their horns. They standout from the sides of the head precisely straight， like twoiron spikes.