The Last FloggingA SLEEPLESS NIGHT--RETURN TO COVEY'S--PURSUED BY COVEY--THE CHASEDEFEATED--VENGEANCE POSTPONED--MUSINGS IN THE WOODS--THEALTERNATIVE--DEPLORABLE SPECTACLE--NIGHT IN THE WOODS--EXPECTEDATTACK--ACCOSTED BY SANDY, A FRIEND, NOT A HUNTER--SANDY'SHOSPITALITY--THE "ASH CAKE" SUPPER--THE INTERVIEW WITH SANDY--HISADVICE--SANDY A CONJURER AS WELL AS A CHRISTIAN--THE MAGIC ROOT--STRANGE MEETING WITH COVEY--HIS MANNER--COVEY'S SUNDAY FACE--MYDEFENSIVE RESOLVE--THE FIGHT--THE VICTORY, AND ITS RESULTS.
Sleep itself does not always come to the relief of the weary in body, and the broken in spirit; especially when past troubles only foreshadow coming disasters. The last hope had been extinguished. My master, who I did not venture to hope would protect me as _a man_, had even now refused to protect me as _his property;_ and had cast me back, covered with reproaches and bruises, into the hands of a stranger to that mercy which was the soul of the religion he professed. May the reader never spend such a night as that allotted to me, previous to the morning which was to herald my return to the den of horrors from which Ihad made a temporary escape.
I remained all night--sleep I did not--at St. Michael's; and in the morning (Saturday) I started off, according to the order of Master Thomas, feeling that I had no friend on earth, and doubting if I had one in heaven. I reached Covey's about nine o'clock; and just as I stepped into the field, before I had reached the house, Covey, true to his snakish habits, darted out at me <181 RETURN TO COVEY'S>from a fence corner, in which he had secreted himself, for the purpose of securing me. He was amply provided with a cowskin and a rope; and he evidently intended to _tie me up_, and to wreak his vengeance on me to the fullest extent. I should have been an easy prey, had he succeeded in getting his hands upon me, for I had taken no refreshment since noon on Friday; and this, together with the pelting, excitement, and the loss of blood, had reduced my strength. I, however, darted back into the woods, before the ferocious hound could get hold of me, and buried myself in a thicket, where he lost sight of me. The corn-field afforded me cover, in getting to the woods. But for the tall corn, Covey would have overtaken me, and made me his captive. He seemed very much chagrined that he did not catch me, and gave up the chase, very reluctantly; for Icould see his angry movements, toward the house from which he had sallied, on his foray.
Well, now I am clear of Covey, and of his wrathful lash, for present. I am in the wood, buried in its somber gloom, and hushed in its solemn silence; hid from all human eyes; shut in with nature and nature's God, and absent from all human contrivances. Here was a good place to pray; to pray for help for deliverance--a prayer I had often made before. But how could I pray? Covey could pray--Capt. Auld could pray--I would fain pray; but doubts (arising partly from my own neglect of the means of grace, and partly from the sham religion which everywhere prevailed, cast in my mind a doubt upon all religion, and led me to the conviction that prayers were unavailing and delusive)prevented my embracing the opportunity, as a religious one.
Life, in itself, had almost become burdensome to me. All my outward relations were against me; I must stay here and starve (Iwas already hungry) or go home to Covey's, and have my flesh torn to pieces, and my spirit humbled under the cruel lash of Covey.
This was the painful alternative presented to me. The day was long and irksome. My physical condition was deplorable. I was weak, from the toils of the previous day, and from the want of <182>food and rest; and had been so little concerned about my appearance, that I had not yet washed the blood from my garments.
I was an object of horror, even to myself. Life, in Baltimore, when most oppressive, was a paradise to this. What had I done, what had my parents done, that such a life as this should be mine? That day, in the woods, I would have exchanged my manhood for the brutehood of an ox.
Night came. I was still in the woods, unresolved what to do.
Hunger had not yet pinched me to the point of going home, and Ilaid myself down in the leaves to rest; for I had been watching for hunters all day, but not being molested during the day, Iexpected no disturbance during the night. I had come to the conclusion that Covey relied upon hunger to drive me home; and in this I was quite correct--the facts showed that he had made no effort to catch me, since morning.
During the night, I heard the step of a man in the woods. He was coming toward the place where I lay. A person lying still has the advantage over one walking in the woods, in the day time, and this advantage is much greater at night. I was not able to engage in a physical struggle, and I had recourse to the common resort of the weak. I hid myself in the leaves to prevent discovery. But, as the night rambler in the woods drew nearer, Ifound him to be a _friend_, not an enemy; it was a slave of Mr.
William Groomes, of Easton, a kind hearted fellow, named "Sandy."Sandy lived with Mr. Kemp that year, about four miles from St.
Michael's. He, like myself had been hired out by the year; but, unlike myself, had not been hired out to be broken. Sandy was the husband of a free woman, who lived in the lower part of _"Potpie Neck,"_ and he was now on his way through the woods, to see her, and to spend the Sabbath with her.
