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Narrative of the Escape of W. B. Thompson – Indian Captivities

John W. B. Thompson’s story of “captivity” is really a captive story about being attacked by Seminole Indians at the Cape Florida Lighthouse he manned with what appears to be his slave. Written by him to let his friends know that he was alive, though crippled, the letter to the editor of the Charleston (S. C.) Courier details the frightful event of 23 July 1836. The Seminole Indians who attacked him likely pillaged the premise for supplies as they were taking their families into the marsh around Cape Florida where they were attempting to hide from the forced migration of their tribe to Oklahoma.

Slave Narrative of Dave Taylor

Interviewer: Jules A. Frost Person Interviewed: Dave Taylor Location: Tampa, Florida A Marine In Ebony From a Virginia plantation to Florida, through perils of Indian war-fare; shanghaied on a Government vessel and carried ’round the world; shipwrecked and dropped into the lap of romance – these are only a few of the colorful pages from the unwritten diary of old Uncle Dave, ex-slave and soldier of fortune. The reporter found the old man sitting on the porch of his Iber City shack, thoughtfully chewing tobacco and fingering his home-made cane. At first he answered in grumpy monosyllables, but by the magic of a good cigar, he gradually let himself go, disclosing minute details of a most remarkable series of adventures. His language is a queer mixture of geechy, sea terms and broad “a’s” acquired by long association with Nassau “conchs.” Married to one of these ample-waisted Bahama women, the erst-while rambler and adventurer proved that rolling stones sometimes become suitable foundations for homes – he lived faithfully with the same wife for fifty-one years. “Shippin’ ‘fore de mahst ain’t no job to make a preacher f’m a youngster; hit’s plenty tough; but I ain’t nevah been sorry I went to sea; effen a boy gwine take to likker an’ wimmen, he kin git plenty o’both at home, same as in for’n ports.” The old man bit off a conservative chew from his small plug, carefully wrapped the remainder in his handkerchief and chewed thoughtfully for some time before he continued. “I wasn’t bawn in Florida, but I be’n here so long I reckon hit ’bout de same thing. I...

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