FootNote
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While we know our northern friends may not feel it, in the South, Spring is
here. So we thought we'd share a few of our gardening sites appropriate
for this time of the year. Along with gardening, there's grilling, and getting
ready to diet so that you can fit back into that bathing suit this summer!
Besides Agnes, whom Mr.
Wilson had purchased from the slave trader,
Jennings, he kept a number of house
servants. The chief one of these was Sam,
who must be regarded as second only to the
parson himself. If a dinner party was in
contemplation, or any company was to be
invited, after all the arrangements had been
talked over by the minister and his
daughter, Sam was sure to be consulted on
the subject by "Miss Georgy," as Miss Wilson
was called by all the servants. If
furniture, crockery, or anything was to be
purchased, Sam felt that he had been
slighted if his opinion was not asked. As to
the marketing, he did it all. He sat at the
head of the servants' table in the kitchen,
and was master of the ceremonies. A single
look from him was enough to silence any
conversation or noise among the servants in
the kitchen or in any other part of the
premises.
There is in the Southern States a great
amount of prejudice in regard to color, even
among the Negroes themselves. The nearer the
Negro or mulatto approaches to the white,
the more he seems to feel his superiority
over those of a darker hue. This is no doubt
the result of the prejudice that exists on
the part of the whites against both the
mulattoes and the blacks.
Sam was originally from Kentucky, and
through the instrumentality of one of his
young masters, whom he had to take to
school, he had learned to read so as to be
well understood, and, owing to that fact,
was considered a prodigy, not only among his
own master's slaves, but also among those of
the town who knew him. Sam had a great wish
to follow in the footsteps of his master and
be a poet, and was therefore often heard
singing doggerels of his own composition.
But there was one drawback to Sam, and that
was his color. He was one of the blackest of
his race. This he evidently regarded as a
great misfortune; but he endeavored to make
up for it in dress. Mr. Wilson kept his
house servants well dressed, and as for Sam,
he was seldom seen except in a ruffled
shirt. Indeed, the washerwoman feared him
more than any one else in the house.
Agnes had been inaugurated chief of the
kitchen department, and had a general
supervision of the household affairs.
Alfred, the coachman, Peter, and Hetty made
up the remainder of the house servants.
Besides these, Mr. Wilson owned eight slaves
who were masons. These worked in the city.
Being mechanics, they were let out to
greater advantage than to keep them on the
farm.
Every Sunday evening, Mr. Wilson's servants,
including the brick layers, assembled in the
kitchen, where the events of the week were
fully discussed and commented upon. It was
on a Sunday evening, in the month of June,
that there was a party at Mr. Wilson's
house, and, according to custom in the
Southern States, the ladies had their maid
servants with them. Tea had been served in
"the house," and the servants, including the
strangers, had taken their seats at the
table in the kitchen. Sam, being a "single
gentleman," was unusually attentive to the
"ladies" on this occasion. He seldom let a
day pass without spending an hour or two in
combing and brushing his "har." He had an
idea that fresh butter was better for his
hair than any other kind of grease, and
therefore on churning days half a pound of
butter had always to be taken out before it
was salted. When he wished to appear to
great advantage, he would grease his face to
make it "shiny." Therefore, on the evening
of the party, when all the servants were at
the table, Sam cut a big figure. There he
sat, with his wool well combed and buttered,
face nicely greased, and his ruffles
extending five or six inches from his bosom.
The parson in his drawing room did not make
a more imposing appearance than did his
servant on this occasion.
"I jis bin had my fortune tole last Sunday
night," said Sam, while helping one of the
girls.
"Indeed!" cried half a dozen voices.
"Yes," continued he; "Aunt Winny tole me I's
to hab de prettiest yallah gal in de town,
and dat I's to be free!"
All eyes were immediately turned toward
Sally Johnson, who was seated near Sam.
"I 'specs I see somebody blush at dat
remark," said Alfred.
"Pass dem pancakes an' 'lasses up dis way,
Mr. Alf., and none ob your 'sinuwashuns
here," rejoined Sam.
"Dat reminds me," said Agnes, "dat Dorcas
Simpson is gwine to git married."
"Who to, I want to know?" inquired Peter.
"To one of Mr. Darby's field hands,"
answered Agnes.
"I should tink dat gal wouldn't frow herseff
away in dat ar way," said Sally. "She's good
lookin' 'nough to git a house servant, and
not hab to put up wid a field nigger.
"Yes," said Sam, "dat's a werry unsensible
remark ob yourn, Miss Sally. I admires your
judgment werry much, I 'sures you. Dar's
plenty ob susceptible an' well dressed house
serbants dat a gal ob her looks can git
widout takin' up wid dem common darkies."
The evening's entertainment concluded by
Sam's relating a little of his own
experience while with his first master, in
old Kentucky. This master was a doctor, and
had a large practice among his neighbors,
doctoring both masters and slaves. When Sam
was about fifteen years old, his master set
him to grinding up ointment and making
pills. As the young student grew older and
became more practiced in his profession, his
services were of more importance to the
doctor. The physician having a good
business, and a large number of his patients
being slaves, the most of whom had to call
on the doctor when ill, he put Sam to
bleeding, pulling teeth, and administering
medicine to the slaves. Sam soon acquired
the name among the slaves of the "Black
Doctor." With this appellation he was
delighted; and no regular physician could
have put on more airs than did the black
doctor when his services were required. In
bleeding, he must have more bandages, and
would rub and smack the arm more than the
doctor would have thought of.
Sam was once seen taking out a tooth for one
of his patients, and nothing appeared more
amusing. He got the poor fellow down on his
back, and then getting astride of his chest,
he applied the turnkeys and pulled away for
dear life. Unfortunately, he had got hold of
the wrong tooth, and the poor man screamed
as loud as he could; but it was to no
purpose, for Sam had him fast, and after a
pretty severe tussle out came the sound
grinder. The young doctor now saw his
mistake, but consoled himself with the
thought that as the wrong tooth was out of
the way, there was more room to get at the
right one.
Bleeding and a dose of calomel were always
considered indispensable by the "old boss,"
and as a matter of course, Sam followed in
his footsteps.
On one occasion the old doctor was ill
himself, so as to be unable to attend to his
patients. A slave, with pass in hand, called
to receive medical advice, and the master
told Sam to examine him and see what he
wanted. This delighted him beyond measure,
for although he had been acting his part in
the way of giving out medicine as the master
ordered it, he had never been called upon by
the latter to examine a patient, and this
seemed to convince him after all that he was
no sham doctor. As might have been expected,
he cut a rare figure in his first
examination. Placing himself directly
opposite his patient, and folding his arms
across his breast, looking very knowingly,
he began,
"What's de matter wid you?"
"I is sick."
"Where is you sick?"
"Here," replied the man, putting his hand
upon his stomach.
"Put out your tongue," continued the doctor.
The man ran out his tongue at full length.
"Let me feel your pulse;" at the same time
taking his patient's hand in his, and
placing his fingers upon his pulse, he said,
"Ah! your case is a bad one; ef I don't do
something for you, and dat pretty quick,
you'll be a gone coon, and dat's sartin." At
this the man appeared frightened, and
inquired what was the matter with him, in
answer to which Sam said,
"I done told dat your case is a bad one, and
dat's enuff."
On Sam's returning to his master's bedside,
the latter said,
"Well, Sam, what do you think is the matter
with him?"
"His stomach is out ob order, sar," he
replied.
"What do you think had better be done for
him?"
"I tink I'd better bleed him and gib him a
dose ob calomel," returned Sam.
So, to the latter's gratification, the
master let him have his own way.
On one occasion, when making pills and
ointment, Sam made a great mistake. He got
the preparations for both mixed together, so
that he could not legitimately make either.
But fearing that if he threw the stuff away,
his master would flog him, and being afraid
to inform his superior of the mistake, he
resolved to make the whole batch of pill and
ointment stuff into pills. He well knew that
the powder over the pills would hide the
inside, and the fact that most persons shut
their eyes when taking such medicine led the
young doctor to feel that all would be right
in the end. Therefore Sam made his pills,
boxed them up, put on the labels, and placed
them in a conspicuous position on one of the
shelves.
Sam felt a degree of anxiety about his
pills, however. It was a strange mixture,
and he was not certain whether it would kill
or cure; but he was willing that it should
be tried. At last the young doctor had his
vanity gratified. Col. Tallen, one of Dr.
Saxondale's patients, drove up one morning,
and Sam as usual ran out to the gate to hold
the colonel's horse.
"Call your master," said the colonel; "I
will not get out."
The doctor was soon beside the carriage, and
inquired about the health of his patient.
After a little consultation, the doctor
returned to his office, took down a box of
Sam's new pills, and returned to the
carriage.
"Take two of these every morning and night,"
said the doctor, "and if you don't feel
relieved, double the dose."
"Good gracious," exclaimed Sam in an
undertone, when he heard his master tell the
colonel how to take the pills.
It was several days before Sam could learn
the result of his new medicine. One
afternoon, about a fortnight after the
colonel's visit, Sam saw his master's
patient riding up to the gate on horseback.
The doctor happened to be in the yard, and
met the colonel and said,
"How are you now?"
"I am entirely recovered," replied the
patient. "Those pills of yours put me on my
feet the next day."
"I knew they would," rejoined the doctor.
Sam was near enough to hear the
conversation, and was delighted beyond
description. The Negro immediately ran into
the kitchen, amongst his companions, and
commenced dancing.
"What de matter wid you?" inquired the cook.
"I is de greatest doctor in his country,"
replied Sam. "Ef you ever get sick, call on
me. No matter what ails you, I is de man dat
can cure you in no time. If you do hab de
backache, de rheumatics, de headache, de
coller morbus, fits, er any ting else, Sam
is de gentleman dat can put you on your feet
wid his pills."
For a long time after, Sam did little else
than boast of his skill as a doctor.
We have said that the "black doctor" was
full of wit and good sense. Indeed, in that
respect, he had scarcely an equal in the
neighborhood. Although his master resided
some little distance out of the city, Sam
was always the first man in all the Negro
balls and parties in town. When his master
could give him a pass, he went, and when he
did not give him one, he would steal away
after his master had retired, and run the
risk of being taken up by the night watch.
Of course, the master never knew anything of
the absence of the servant at night without
permission. As the Negroes at these parties
tried to excel each other in the way of
dress, Sam was often at a loss to make that
appearance that his heart desired, but his
ready wit ever helped him in this. When his
master had retired to bed at night, it was
the duty of Sam to put out the lights, and
take out with him his master's clothes and
boots, and leave them in the office until
morning, and then black the boots, brush the
clothes, and return them to his master's
room.
Having resolved to attend a dress ball one
night, without his master's permission, and
being perplexed for suitable garments, Sam
determined to take his master's. So,
dressing himself in the doctor's clothes,
even to his boots and hat, off the Negro
started for the city. Being well acquainted
with the usual walk of the patrols he found
no difficulty in keeping out of their way.
As might have been expected, Sam was the
great gun with the ladies that night.
The next morning, Sam was back home long
before his master's time for rising, and the
clothes were put in their accustomed place.
For a long time Sam had no difficulty in
attiring himself for parties; but the old
proverb that "It is a long lane that has no
turning," was verified in the Negro's case.
One stormy night, when the rain was
descending in torrents, the doctor heard a
rap at his door. It was customary with him,
when called up at night to visit a patient,
to ring for Sam. But this time, the servant
was nowhere to be found. The doctor struck a
light and looked for clothes; they, too,
were gone. It was twelve o'clock, and the
doctor's clothes, hat, boots, and even his
watch, were nowhere to be found. Here was a
pretty dilemma for a doctor to be in. It was
some time before the physician could fit
himself out so as to make the visit. At
last, however, he started with one of the
farm horses, for Sam had taken the doctor's
best saddle horse. The doctor felt sure that
the Negro had robbed him, and was on his way
to Canada; but in this he was mistaken. Sam
had gone to the city to attend a ball, and
had decked himself out in his master's best
suit. The physician returned before morning,
and again retired to bed but with little
hope of sleep, for his thoughts were with
his servant and horse. At six o'clock, in
walked Sam with his master's clothes, and
the boots neatly blacked. The watch was
placed on the shelf, and the hat in its
place. Sam had not met any of the servants,
and was therefore entirely ignorant of what
had occurred during his absence.
"What have you been about, sir, and where
was you last night when I was called?" asked
the doctor.
"I don't know, sir. I 'spose I was asleep,"
replied Sam.
But the doctor was not to be so easily
satisfied, after having been put to so much
trouble in hunting up another suit without
the aid of Sam. After breakfast, Sam was
taken into the barn, tied up, and severely
flogged with the cat, which brought from him
the truth concerning his absence the
previous night. This forever put an end to
his fine appearance at the Negro parties.
Had not the doctor been one of the most
indulgent of masters, he would not have
escaped with merely a severe whipping.
As a matter of course, Sam had to relate to
his companions that evening in Mr. Wilson's
kitchen all his adventures as a physician
while with his old master.
Clotelle or The Colored Heroine, A tale
of the Southern States
