Wiley suffered severely at the hands of Master Epps，as has been related in the preceding Chapter， but inthis respect he fared no worse than his unfortunatecompanions. “Spare the rod，” was an idea scouted by ourmaster. He was constitutionally subject to periods of illhumor，and at such times， however little provocationthere might be， a certain amount of punishment wasinflicted. The circumstances attending the last floggingbut one that I received， will show how trivial a cause wassufficient with him for resorting to the whip.
A Mr. O’Niel， residing in the vicinity of the Big PineWoods， called upon Epps for the purpose of purchasingme. He was a tanner and currier by occupation，transacting an extensive business， and intended to placeme at service in some department of his establishment，provided he bought me. Aunt Phebe， while preparingthe dinner-table in the great house， overheard theirconversation. On returning to the yard at night， theold woman ran to meet me， designing， of course， tooverwhelm me with the news. She entered into a minuterepetition of all she had heard， and Aunt Phebe wasone whose ears never failed to drink in every word ofconversation uttered in her hearing. She enlarged upon the fact that “Massa Epps was g’wine to sell me to atanner ober in de Pine Woods，” so long and loudly asto attract the attention of the mistress， who， standingunobserved on the piazza at the time， was listening to ourconversation.
“Well， Aunt Phebe，” said I， “I’m glad of it. I’m tiredof scraping cotton， and would rather be a tanner. I hopehe’ll buy me.”
O’Niel did not effect a purchase， however， the partiesdiffering as to price， and the morning following hisarrival， departed homewards. He had been gone buta short time， when Epps made his appearance in thefield. Now nothing will more violently enrage a master，especially Epps， than the intimation of one of hisservants that he would like to leave him. Mistress Eppshad repeated to him my expressions to Aunt Phebe theevening previous， as I learned from the latter afterwards，the mistress having mentioned to her that she hadoverheard us. On entering the field， Epps walked directlyto me.
“So， Platt， you’re tired of scraping cotton， are you？
You would like to change your master， eh？ You’re fond ofmoving round—traveler—ain’t ye？ Ah， yes—like to travel foryour health， may be？ Feel above cotton-scraping， I ’spose.
So you’re going into the tanning business？ Good business—devilish fine business. Enterprising nigger！ B’lieve I’ll gointo that business myself. Down on your knees， and stripthat rag off your back！ I’ll try my hand at tanning.”
I begged earnestly， and endeavored to soften himwith excuses， but in vain. There was no other alternative；so kneeling down， I presented my bare back for theapplication of the lash.
“How do you like tanning？” he exclaimed， as therawhide descended upon my flesh. “How do you liketanning？” he repeated at every blow. In this mannerhe gave me twenty or thirty lashes， incessantly givingutterance to the word “tanning，” in one form ofexpression or another. When sufficiently “tanned，” heallowed me to arise， and with a half-malicious laughassured me， if I still fancied the business， he would giveme further instruction in it whenever I desired. Thistime， he remarked， he had only given me a short lesson in“tanning” —the next time he would “curry me down.”
Uncle Abram， also， was frequently treated with greatbrutality， although he was one of the kindest and mostfaithful creatures in the world. He was my cabin-mate foryears. There was a benevolent expression in the old man’sface， pleasant to behold. He regarded us with a kind ofparental feeling， always counseling us with remarkablegravity and deliberation.
Returning from Marshall’s plantation one afternoon，whither I had been sent on some errand of the mistress， Ifound him lying on the cabin floor， his clothes saturatedwith blood. He informed me that he had been stabbed！
While spreading cotton on the scaffold， Epps came homeintoxicated from Holmesville. He found fault with everything， giving many orders so directly contrary that itwas impossible to execute any of them. Uncle Abram，whose faculties were growing dull， became confused， andcommitted some blunder of no particular consequence.
Epps was so enraged thereat， that， with drunkenrecklessness， he flew upon the old man， and stabbed himin the back. It was a long， ugly wound， but did not happento penetrate far enough to result fatally. It was sewedup by the mistress， who censured her husband withextreme severity， not only denouncing his inhumanity，but declaring that she expected nothing else than that hewould bring the family to poverty—that he would kill allthe slaves on the plantation in some of his drunken fits.
It was no uncommon thing with him to prostrate AuntPhebe with a chair or stick of wood； but the most cruelwhipping that ever I was doomed to witness—one I cannever recall with any other emotion than that of horror—was inflicted on the unfortunate Patsey.
It has been seen that the jealousy and hatred ofMistress Epps made the daily life of her young and agileslave completely miserable. I am happy in the beliefthat on numerous occasions I was the means of avertingpunishment from the inoffensive girl. In Epps’ absencethe mistress often ordered me to whip her without theremotest provocation. I would refuse， saying that I fearedmy master’s displeasure， and several times venturedto remonstrate with her against the treatment Patseyreceived. I endeavored to impress her with the truth that the latter was not responsible for the acts of whichshe complained， but that she being a slave， and subjectentirely to her master’s will， he alone was answerable.
At length “the green-eyed monster” crept into thesoul of Epps also， and then it was that he joined with hiswrathful wife in an infernal jubilee over the girl’s miseries.
