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"Slave Narratives, Writings
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Ann Marie
Lorna
Brown Slave Law: Louisiana Jury Act 1816—Black Slaves were not allowed to testify against a white in court.. Slave Narrative: Hello, my name is Joe Smith, I am 29 years old and I have been a slave for 18 years. I am from Africa…I was born free and taken at an early age and later on my whole family was sold to my Slave Master Mr. Smith in Louisiana. My mother and father was killed by my master. My sister and brother was soled to someone else and I never saw them again. But the worst of it all was when I witnessed myself. It was a hot and sunny day and I had been on the crops since sun up working the fields, now it was sun down..I just finished working when I heard a big bang. I think it was a gunshot. I was very scared. I run to see what happened and I see Master aim again and dang goes another shot. Blood is all over tha place. Master started looking around. I tried to get down so I won’t get seen. But I was sawed. Master called me over to him. So I walked over to him thinking to myself “what did he shoot”?..I tried to take my time but Master told me to hurry..I walked quickly. When I get there, Master is looking down on another white guy. Not really sure who he was at that time, just too much blood all over him…He demands me to pick up the white guy and take him to the barn…I do as he says. Once we arrived at the barn, I layed the man down on the ground. Not only to than I realize that it was Master Joe from another plantation…I was scared…Master told be to dig a hole and bury him there..So I did, afraid if I didn’t, Master would shoot me! Some days went by, nothing seem to change, went on with our daily lives. Than all of a sudden, the police came and arrested our Master..Someone saw the two Maters arguing with each other and Master pulled out h is gun and shot the man…. We later found out the Master was being trialed for the murder and they were looking for more witnesses because the man that witnessed the shooting did not see the whole thang… I didn’t like Master at all and I thought this would be a good chance to get back at him for what he did to my family….when I told someone that I wanted to go to court and testify, I was told that I couldn’t, because of the Louisiana Jury Act… My Master was back home soon, and life continued on for me as a Slave for many years..
Hello! My name is Reynaldo Mendez. I am 47 years
old. I am a house slave. I have been a slave for 39 years. I am
tired of calling my owner “Master”. I’d rather be dead than to call
my owner “Master” any more. I have not seen my family in over 39
years. I wish that I could just see them for at least one day. It
makes me so sad that I haven’t been able to see my family. I really
don’t think that I will ever see them again. I will always believe
in freedom and have hope for my freedom no matter what. Whenever I
am really down, I sing my sorrows away. I hear the other slaves
singing too and I know when I hear them singing coded slave songs in
the fields like “Wade in the Water”, I know that somebody is
escaping to freedom that night on the “Underground Railroad.” My
time will come and I will escape one day and I’ll see my mother and
my father again. I’ll be so happy to see my brothers and my
sisters. I know it, I really know it! I’m a just sittin’ here on the slave boat gettin’ ready to go to the South Louisiana to go to an auction. My name is Anna Mae an’ my last owner name me dat. Before dat, my name was Rosa. I don’t know my momma or daddy. All I know is I have two brothers and one sister. I don’t know dey names. All I know is dey younger than me. I think I’m about 22 years old. I have friends on dis dusty boat. Dey’s name is Emma, Stella, Charidy, Jeff, Austin, Issac and Drew. Dey all came from the State New Orleans. I’s a came from Maryland. I’s a like my old masta. They gave me good meals and they taught me how to write. Da people took me because I been there all of my life.
My
Photograph signifies and personifies the brilliance what our
ancestors once went and had to go through for us to have a life. We
still go through these things, but not as much. How come we’s all
made human, but the Mrs. and Mr. treat us like dirt. Don’t
understand how dem sleep at night wit out feelin’ guilty. I’s see
it like them ain’t got no conscience. If I runned this place, the
Mrs. be workin’ for me in the kitchen and bein’ whip for nottin’.
Iron mask and collar for punishing slaves. Bet dem White folks
never been whup by da masser. I ain’t never done nottin’. Born a
free man, ain’t never called no man “Masser.” Got 3 kids and a
wife. Ain’t seen ‘em in 3 years. Please get me off dis island
where only us niggers is punished for nottin’. Hell bound … Ain’t
got no where to run. My name is Outaka Raffle Lionel Joseph Sek and
I was born a free man. Not no more! I’s bound, I’s bound, I’s hell
bound!
Africans Thrown Overboard from a Slave Ship, Brazil, ca. 1830s
“Death On A British Horror comes over me as I am swaying back and forth on a ship with thousands of other captives. Gasping for air with every sway, I call to God to help us out of this terrible situation. Ocean water splashing everywhere, I fear for my life as the taste of salt water and death overwhelms me. I hold my mouth with cold, damp hands to keep from throwing-up bile because we haven’t eaten in ten days. The stench of decaying bodies fills the air because several of the captives have already pasted to their glory … “In my eyes, it’s freedom!” Stolen from my homeland and headed to a fate worse than death itself. Oh God, why? I cry out with the last ounce of strength left in my frail starving body. Being aware of the unknown, I am deathly afraid of what other forms of torture lay ahead.
I pray for death … “In my eyes, it’s freedom!”
Late last night, when the moon came up, we heard a
strange I woke Ma up and she told us to run. The fear of getting caught hugged me tight and wouldn’t let go. Branches were falling and I tripped over and someone pounced on me. Months passed and I still feel as if it was yesterday. The loss of my mother and sisters are just eating me up inside. A piece of me is left every time I think about it. My heart is heavy, my spirit is weak and my love is dying. I get sicker and sicker every time I breathe in the memories. I can’t even walk. I know there are other slaves feeling like me. They put us all in one place, the ones who are broken down. While we were sleep, they threw us off. I awakened because when they pulled us, I fell over. I swam to the island shore. My body was so weak. All the others were here with me tied to the tree waiting our death. We heard laughing and heckling in the shadows of the night.
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