Twelve Years a Slave by Solomon Northup Read Free Book Online Page A

I could no longer bear up against the advances of that “sweet restorer,” and laying down by the side of Robert, on the floor, soon forgot my troubles, and slept until the dawn of day.
    In the morning, having swept the yard, and washed ourselves, under Goodin’s superintendence, we were ordered to roll up our blankets, and make ready for the continuance of our journey. Clem Ray was informed that he would go no further, Burch, for some cause, having concluded to carry him back to Washington. He was much rejoiced. Shaking hands, we parted in the slave pen at Richmond, and I have not seen him since. But, much to my surprise, since my return, I learned that he had escaped from bondage, and on his way to the free soil of Canada, lodged one night at the house of my brother-in-law in Saratoga, informing my family of the place and the condition in which he left me.
    In the afternoon we were drawn up, two abreast, Robert and myself in advance, and in this order, driven by Burch and Goodin from the yard, through the streets of Richmond to the brig Orleans. She was a vessel of respectable size, full rigged, and freighted principally with tobacco. We were all on board by five o’clock. Burch brought us each a tin cup and a spoon. There were forty of us in the brig, being all, except Clem, that were in the pen.
    With a small pocket knife that had not been taken from me, I began cutting the initials of my name upon the tin cup. The others immediately flocked round me, requesting me to mark theirs in a similar manner. In time, I gratified them all, of which they did not appear to be forgetful.
    We were all stowed away in the hold at night, and the hatch barred down. We laid on boxes, or where- ever there was room enough to stretch our blankets on the floor.
    Burch accompanied us no farther than Richmond, returning from that point to the capital with Clem. Not until the lapse of almost twelve years, to wit, in January last, in the Washington police office, did I set my eyes upon his face again.
    James H. Burch was a slave-trader — buying men, women and children at low prices, and selling them at an advance. He was a speculator in human flesh — a disreputable calling — and so considered at the South. For the present he disappears from the scenes recorded in this narrative, but he will appear again before its close, not in the character of a man-whipping tyrant, but as an arrested, cringing criminal in a court of law, that failed to do him justice.

CHAPTER V

    Arrival at Norfolk — Frederick and Maria — Arthur, the Freeman Appointed Steward — Jim, Cuffee, and Jenny — The Storm — Bahama Banks — The Calm — The Conspiracy — The Long Boat — The Small-Pox — Death of Robert — Manning, the Sailor — The Meeting in the Forecastle — The Letter — Arrival at New Orleans — Arthur’s Rescue — Theophilus Freeman, the Consignee — Platt — First Night in the New Orleans Slave Pen.

    After we were all on board, the brig Orleans proceeded down James River. Passing into Chesapeake Bay, we arrived next day opposite the city of Norfolk. While lying at anchor, a lighter approached us from the town, bringing four more slaves. Frederick, a boy of eighteen, had been born a slave, as also had Henry, who was some years older. They had both been house servants in the city. Maria was a rather genteel looting colored girl, with a faultless form, but ignorant and extremely vain. The idea of going to New-Orleans was pleasing to her. She entertained an extravagantly high opinion of her own attractions. Assuming a haughty mien, she declared to her companions, that immediately on our arrival in New-Orleans, she had no doubt, some wealthy single gentleman of good taste would purchase her at once!
    But the most prominent of the four, was as a man named Arthur. As the lighter approached, he struggled stoutly with his keepers. It was with main force that he was dragged aboard the brig. He protested, in a loud voice, against the treatment