prompt:
Chapter: PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF EPPS--EPPS, DRUNK AND SOBER--A GLIMPSE
  OF HIS HISTORY--COTTON GROWING--THE MODE OF PLOUGHING AND
  PREPARING GROUND--OF PLANTING--OF HOEING, OF PICKING, OF
  TREATING RAW HANDS--THE DIFFERENCE IN COTTON PICKERS--PATSEY
  A REMARKABLE ONE--TASKED ACCORDING TO ABILITY--BEAUTY OF A
  COTTON FIELD--THE SLAVE'S LABORS--FEAR ON APPROACHING THE
  GIN-HOUSE--WEIGHING--"CHORES"--CABIN LIFE--THE CORN MILL--THE USES
  OF THE GOURD--FEAR OF OVERSLEEPING--FEAR CONTINUALLY--MODE OF
  CULTIVATING CORN--SWEET POTATOES--FERTILITY OF THE SOIL--FATTENING
  HOGS--PRESERVING BACON--RAISING CATTLE--SHOOTING-MATCHES--GARDEN
  PRODUCTS--FLOWERS AND VERDURE.

Edwin Epps, of whom much will be said during the remainder of this
history, is a large, portly, heavy-bodied man with light hair, high
cheek bones, and a Roman nose of extraordinary dimensions. He has
blue eyes, a fair complexion, and is, as I should say, full six feet
high. He has the sharp, inquisitive expression of a jockey. His
manners are repulsive and coarse, and his language gives speedy and
unequivocal evidence that he has never enjoyed the advantages of an
education. He has the faculty of saying most provoking things, in that
respect even excelling old Peter Tanner. At the time I came into his
possession, Edwin Epps was fond of the bottle, his "sprees" sometimes
extending over the space of two whole weeks. Latterly, however,
he had reformed his habits, and when I left him, was as strict a
specimen of temperance as could be found on Bayou Boeuf. When "in his
cups," Master Epps was a roystering, blustering, noisy fellow, whose
chief delight was in dancing with his "niggers," or lashing them
about the yard with his long whip, just for the pleasure of hearing
them screech and scream, as the great welts were planted on their
backs. When sober, he was silent, reserved and cunning, not beating
us indiscriminately, as in his drunken moments, but sending the end
of his rawhide to some tender spot of a lagging slave, with a sly
dexterity peculiar to himself.

He had been a driver and overseer in his younger years, but at this
time was in possession of a plantation on Bayou Huff Power, two and
a half miles from Holmesville, eighteen from Marksville, and twelve
from Cheneyville. It belonged to Joseph B. Roberts, his wife's uncle,
and was leased by Epps. His principal business was raising cotton,
and inasmuch as some may read this book who have never seen a cotton
field, a description of the manner of its culture may not be out of
place.

The ground is prepared by throwing up beds or ridges, with the
plough--back-furrowing, it is called. Oxen and mules, the latter
almost exclusively, are used in ploughing. The women as frequently
as the men perform this labor, feeding, currying, and taking care of
their teams, and in all respects doing the field and stable work,
precisely as do the ploughboys of the North.

The beds, or ridges, are six feet wide, that is, from water furrow
to water furrow. A plough drawn by one mule is then run along the
top of the ridge or center of the bed, making the drill, into which
a girl usually drops the seed, which she carries in a bag hung round
her neck. Behind her comes a mule and harrow, covering up the seed,
so that two mules, three slaves, a plough and harrow, are employed
in planting a row of cotton. This is done in the months of March and
April. Corn is planted in February. When there are no cold rains,
the cotton usually makes its appearance in a week. In the course of
eight or ten days afterwards the first hoeing is commenced. This is
performed in part, also, by the aid of the plough and mule. The plough
passes as near as possible to the cotton on both sides, throwing the
furrow from it. Slaves follow with their hoes, cutting up the grass
and cotton, leaving hills two feet and a half apart. This is called
scraping cotton. In two weeks more commences the second hoeing. This
time the furrow is thrown towards the cotton. Only one stalk, the
largest, is now left standing in each hill. In another fortnight it
is hoed the third time, throwing the furrow towards the cotton in the
same manner as before, and killing all the grass between the rows.
About the first of July, when it is a foot high or thereabouts, it is
hoed the fourth and last time. Now the whole space between the rows
is ploughed, leaving a deep water furrow in the center. During all
these hoeings the overseer or driver follows the slaves on horseback
with a whip, such as has been described. The fastest hoer takes the
lead row. He is usually about a rod in advance of his companions. If
one of them passes him, he is whipped. If one falls behind or is a
moment idle, he is whipped. In fact, the lash is flying from morning
until night, the whole day long. The hoeing season thus continues from
April until July, a field having no sooner been finished once, than it
is commenced again.

In the latter part of August begins the cotton picking season. At
this time each slave is presented with a sack. A strap is fastened to
it, which goes over the neck, holding the mouth of the sack breast
high, while the bottom reaches nearly to the ground. Each one is also
presented with a large basket that will hold about two barrels. This
is to put the cotton in when the sack is filled. The baskets are
carried to the field and placed at the beginning of the rows.

When a new hand, one unaccustomed to the business, is sent for the
first time into the field, he is whipped up smartly, and made for that
day to pick as fast as he can possibly. At night it is weighed, so
that his capability in cotton picking is known. He must bring in the
same weight each night following. If it falls short, it is considered
evidence that he has been laggard, and a greater or less number of
lashes is the penalty.

An ordinary day's work is two hundred pounds. A slave who is
accustomed to picking, is punished, if he or she brings in a less
quantity than that. There is a great difference among them as regards
this kind of labor. Some of them seem to have a natural knack, or
quickness, which enables them to pick with great celerity, and with
both hands, while others, with whatever practice or industry, are
utterly unable to come up to the ordinary standard. Such hands are
taken from the cotton field and employed in other business. Patsey,
of whom I shall have more to say, was known as the most remarkable
cotton picker on Bayou Boeuf. She picked with both hands and with such
surprising rapidity, that five hundred pounds a day was not unusual
for her.

Each one is tasked, therefore, according to his picking abilities,
none, however, to come short of two hundred weight. I, being
unskillful always in that business, would have satisfied my master by
bringing in the latter quantity, while on the other hand, Patsey would
surely have been beaten if she failed to produce twice as much.

The cotton grows from five to seven feet high, each stalk having a
great many branches, shooting out in all directions, and lapping each
other above the water furrow.

There are few sights more pleasant to the eye, than a wide cotton
field when it is in the bloom. It presents an appearance of purity,
like an immaculate expanse of light, new-fallen snow.

Sometimes the slave picks down one side of a row, and back upon the
other, but more usually, there is one on either side, gathering all
that has blossomed, leaving the unopened bolls for a succeeding
picking. When the sack is filled, it is emptied into the basket and
trodden down. It is necessary to be extremely careful the first time
going through the field, in order not to break the branches off the
stalks. The cotton will not bloom upon a broken branch. Epps never
failed to inflict the severest chastisement on the unlucky servant
who, either carelessly or unavoidably, was guilty in the least degree
in this respect.

The hands are required to be in the cotton field as soon as it is
light in the morning, and, with the exception of ten or fifteen
minutes, which is given them at noon to swallow their allowance of
cold bacon, they are not permitted to be a moment idle until it is too
dark to see, and when the moon is full, they often times labor till
the middle of the night. They do not dare to stop even at dinner time,
nor return to the quarters, however late it be, until the order to
halt is given by the driver.

The day's work over in the field, the baskets are "toted," or in other
words, carried to the gin-house, where the cotton is weighed. No
matter how fatigued and weary he may be--no matter how much he longs
for sleep and rest--a slave never approaches the gin-house with his
basket of cotton but with fear. If it falls short in weight--if he
has not performed the full task appointed him, he knows that he must
suffer. And if he has exceeded it by ten or twenty pounds, in all
probability his master will measure the next day's task accordingly.
So, whether he has too little or too much, his approach to the
gin-house is always with, fear and trembling. Most frequently they
have too little, and therefore it is they are not anxious to leave
the field. After weighing, follow the whippings; and then the baskets
are carried to the cotton house, and their contents stored away like
hay, all hands being sent in to tramp it down. If the cotton is not
dry, instead of taking it to the gin-house at once, it is laid upon
platforms, two feet high, and some three times as wide, covered with
boards or plank, with narrow walks running between them.

This done, the labor of the day is not yet ended, by any means. Each
one must then attend to his respective chores. One feeds the mules,
another the swine--another cuts the wood, and so forth; besides, the
packing is all done by candle light. Finally, at a late hour, they
reach the quarters, sleepy and overcome with the long day's toil. Then
a fire must be kindled in the cabin, the corn ground in the small
hand-mill, and supper, and dinner for the next day in the field,
prepared. All that is allowed them is corn and bacon, which is given
out at the corncrib and smoke-house every Sunday morning. Each one
receives, as his weekly, allowance, three and a half pounds of bacon,
and corn enough to make a peck of meal. That is all--no tea, coffee,
sugar, and with the exception of a very scanty sprinkling now and
then, no salt. I can say, from a ten years' residence with Master
Epps, that no slave of his is ever likely to suffer from the gout,
superinduced by excessive high living. Master Epps' hogs were fed on
_shelled_ corn--it was thrown out to his "niggers" in the ear. The
former, he thought, would fatten faster by shelling, and soaking it in
the water--the latter, perhaps, if treated in the same manner, might
grow too fat to labor. Master Epps was a shrewd calculator, and knew
how to manage his own animals, drunk or sober.

The corn mill stands in the yard beneath a shelter. It is like a
common coffee mill, the hopper holding about six quarts. There was
one privilege which Master Epps granted freely to every slave he had.
They might grind their corn nightly, in such small quantities as their
daily wants required, or they might grind the whole week's allowance
at one time, on Sundays, just as they preferred. A very generous man
was Master Epps!

I kept my corn in a small wooden box, the meal in a gourd; and, by the
way, the gourd is one of the most convenient and necessary utensils on
a plantation. Besides supplying the place of all kinds of crockery in
a slave cabin, it is used for carrying water to the fields. Another,
also, contains the dinner. It dispenses with the necessity of pails,
dippers, basins, and such tin and wooden superfluities altogether.

When the corn is ground, and fire is made, the bacon is taken down
from the nail on which it hangs, a slice cut off and thrown upon the
coals to broil. The majority of slaves have no knife, much less a
fork. They cut their bacon with the axe at the wood-pile. The corn
meal is mixed with a little water, placed in the fire, and baked. When
it is "done brown," the ashes are scraped off, and being placed upon a
chip, which answers for a table, the tenant of the slave hut is ready
to sit down upon the ground to supper. By this time it is usually
midnight. The same fear of punishment with which they approach the
gin-house, possesses them again on lying down to get a snatch of rest.
It is the fear of oversleeping in the morning. Such an offence would
certainly be attended with not less than twenty lashes. With a prayer
that he may be on his feet and wide awake at the first sound of the
horn, he sinks to his slumbers nightly.

The softest couches in the world are not to be found in the log
mansion of the slave. The one whereon I reclined year after year, was
a plank twelve inches wide and ten feet long. My pillow was a stick of
wood. The bedding was a coarse blanket, and not a rag or shred beside.
Moss might be used, were it not that it directly breeds a swarm of
fleas.

The cabin is constructed of logs, without floor or window. The latter
is altogether unnecessary, the crevices between the logs admitting
sufficient light. In stormy weather the rain drives through them,
rendering it comfortless and extremely disagreeable. The rude door
hangs on great wooden hinges. In one end is constructed an awkward
fire-place.

An hour before day light the horn is blown. Then the slaves arouse,
prepare their breakfast, fill a gourd with water, in another deposit
their dinner of cold bacon and corn cake, and hurry to the field
again. It is an offence invariably followed by a flogging, to be found
at the quarters after daybreak. Then the fears and labors of another
day begin; and until its close there is no such thing as rest. He
fears he will be caught lagging through the day; he fears to approach
the gin-house with his basket-load of cotton at night; he fears, when
he lies down, that he will oversleep himself in the morning. Such is a
true, faithful, unexaggerated picture and description of the slave's
daily life, during the time of cotton-picking, on the shores of Bayou
Boeuf.

In the month of January, generally, the fourth and last picking is
completed. Then commences the harvesting of corn. This is considered
a secondary crop, and receives far less attention than the cotton. It
is planted, as already mentioned, in February. Corn is grown in that
region for the purpose of fattening hogs and feeding slaves; very
little, if any, being sent to market. It is the white variety, the
ear of great size, and the stalk growing to the height of eight, and
often times ten feet. In August the leaves are stripped off, dried in
the sun, bound in small bundles, and stored away as provender for the
mules and oxen. After this the slaves go through the field, turning
down the ear, for the purpose of keeping the rains from penetrating to
the grain. It is left in this condition until after cotton-picking is
over, whether earlier or later. Then the ears are separated from the
stalks, and deposited in the corncrib with the husks on; otherwise,
stripped of the husks, the weevil would destroy it. The stalks are
left standing in the field.

The Carolina, or sweet potato, is also grown in that region to
some extent. They are not fed, however, to hogs or cattle, and are
considered but of small importance. They are preserved by placing them
upon the surface of the ground, with a slight covering of earth or
cornstalks. There is not a cellar on Bayou Boeuf. The ground is so low
it would fill with water. Potatoes are worth from two to three "bits,"
or shillings a barrel; corn, except when there is an unusual scarcity,
can be purchased at the same rate.

As soon as the cotton and corn crops are secured, the stalks are
pulled up, thrown into piles and burned. The ploughs are started at
the same time, throwing up the beds again, preparatory to another
planting. The soil, in the parishes of Rapides and Avoyelles, and
throughout the whole country, so far as my observation extended, is
of exceeding richness and fertility. It is a kind of marl, of a brown
or reddish color. It does not require those invigorating composts
necessary to more barren lands, and on the same field the same crop is
grown for many successive years.

Ploughing, planting, picking cotton, gathering the corn, and pulling
and burning stalks, occupies the whole of the four seasons of the
year. Drawing and cutting wood, pressing cotton, fattening and killing
hogs, are but incidental labors.

In the month of September or October, the hogs are run out of the
swamps by dogs, and confined in pens. On a cold morning, generally
about New Year's day, they are slaughtered. Each carcass is cut into
six parts, and piled one above the other in salt, upon large tables
in the smoke-house. In this condition it remains a fortnight, when it
is hung up, and a fire built, and continued more than half the time
during the remainder of the year. This thorough smoking is necessary
to prevent the bacon from becoming infested with worms. In so warm a
climate it is difficult to preserve it, and very many times myself and
my companions have received our weekly allowance of three pounds and a
half, when it was full of these disgusting vermin.

Although the swamps are overrun with cattle, they are never made
the source of profit, to any considerable extent. The planter
cuts his mark upon the ear, or brands his initials upon the side,
and turns them into the swamps, to roam unrestricted within their
almost limitless confines. They are the Spanish breed, small and
spike-horned. I have known of droves being taken from Bayou Boeuf, but
it is of very rare occurrence. The value of the best cows is about
five dollars each. Two quarts at one milking, would be considered
an unusual large quantity. They furnish little tallow, and that of
a soft, inferior quality. Notwithstanding the great number of cows
that throng the swamps, the planters are indebted to the North for
their cheese and butter, which is purchased in the New-Orleans market.
Salted beef is not an article of food either in the great house, or in
the cabin.

Master Epps was accustomed to attend shooting matches for the purpose
of obtaining what fresh beef he required. These sports occurred
weekly at the neighboring village of Holmesville. Fat beeves are
driven thither and shot at, a stipulated price being demanded for the
privilege. The lucky marksman divides the flesh among his fellows, and
in this manner the attending planters are supplied.

The great number of tame and untamed cattle which swarm the woods and
swamps of Bayou Boeuf, most probably suggested that appellation to the
French, inasmuch as the term, translated, signifies the creek or river
of the wild ox.

Garden products, such as cabbages, turnips and the like, are
cultivated for the use of the master and his family. They have greens
and vegetables at all times and seasons of the year. "The grass
withereth and the flower fadeth" before the desolating winds of autumn
in the chill northern latitudes, but perpetual verdure overspreads the
hot lowlands, and flowers bloom in the heart of winter, in the region
of Bayou Boeuf.

There are no meadows appropriated to the cultivation of the grasses.
The leaves of the corn supply a sufficiency of food for the laboring
cattle, while the rest provide for themselves all the year in the
ever-growing pasture.

There are many other peculiarities of climate, habit, custom, and of
the manner of living and laboring at the South, but the foregoing, it
is supposed, will give the reader an insight and general idea of life
on a cotton plantation in Louisiana. The mode of cultivating cane,
and the process of sugar manufacturing, will be mentioned in another
place.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Epps is heavy, Roman-nosed, and tall. He has a sharp expression, coarse manners, no education, violent tendencies, and a drinling habit. When drunk, he is rousing and blustering; when sober, he is cold and cunning. He grows cotton on a plantation belonging to his wife's uncle. Solomon provides an overview of the cotton planting and harvesting process. He accounts for the dropping of the seed, its covering up, its early growth, the scraping of the cotton, and the hoeing. Then comes cotton-picking, which slaves do with large sacks. A slave must bring in the same amount as he or she brought in the previous night; if they don't, it is evidence that they are laggard and they must be whipped. An ordinary day's picking is two-hundred pounds or so; beyond that, each slave is judged according to their ability. One slave of Epps's, Patsey, gets over five-hundred pounds per day. The cotton field is beautiful when in bloom, but the labor is arduous. Slaves work from daybreak to moonlight during the season, with only a miniscule break for food. Approaching the gin-house with the cotton is a fearful thing, for one does not want to be short. After picking cotton, the labor is not done. Slaves then move on to their own chores, such as lighting fires and making food. Epps's slaves live off the bare minimum of rations. Slaves fear oversleeping, so they never get real rest. Their cabins are hot or cold, full of cracks for the wind to blow through. Every day is filled with fear: fear of oversleeping, fear of lagging, and fear of not picking enough. Once cotton is done, it is time for corn, which is a secondary crop and easier to work with. The area also features the sweet potato. In September and October, the hogs are slaughtered. The slaves get some meat, but sometimes it is infested with worms. The swamps are full of cattle, but those are not a great food source. Southerners are indebted to the North for their milk and cheese


prompt:
Chapter: THE CURIOUS AXE-HELVE--SYMPTOMS OF APPROACHING ILLNESS--CONTINUE
  TO DECLINE--THE WHIP INEFFECTUAL--CONFINED TO THE CABIN--VISIT BY
  DR. WINES--PARTIAL RECOVERY--FAILURE AT COTTON PICKING--WHAT MAY
  BE HEARD ON EPPS' PLANTATION--LASHES GRADUATED--EPPS IN A WHIPPING
  MOOD--EPPS IN A DANCING MOOD--DESCRIPTION OF THE DANCE--LOSS OF
  REST NO EXCUSE--EPPS' CHARACTERISTICS--JIM BURNS REMOVAL FROM HUFF
  POWER TO BAYOU BOEUF--DESCRIPTION OF UNCLE ABRAM; OF WILEY; OF AUNT
  PHEBE; OF BOB, HENRY, AND EDWARD; OF PATSEY; WITH A GENEALOGICAL
  ACCOUNT OF EACH--SOMETHING OF THEIR PAST HISTORY, AND PECULIAR
  CHARACTERISTICS--JEALOUSY AND LUST--PATSEY, THE VICTIM.

On my arrival at Master Epps', in obedience to his order, the first
business upon which I entered was the making of an axe-helve. The
handles in use there are simply a round, straight stick. I made a
crooked one, shaped like those to which I had been accustomed at the
North. When finished, and presented to Epps, he looked at it with
astonishment, unable to determine exactly what it was. He had never
before seen such a handle, and when I explained its conveniences, he
was forcibly struck with the novelty of the idea. He kept it in the
house a long time, and when his friends called, was wont to exhibit it
as a curiosity.

It was now the season of hoeing. I was first sent into the
corn-field, and afterwards set to scraping cotton. In this employment
I remained until hoeing time was nearly passed, when I began to
experience the symptoms of approaching illness. I was attacked with
chills, which were succeeded by a burning fever. I became weak and
emaciated, and frequently so dizzy that it caused me to reel and
stagger like a drunken man. Nevertheless, I was compelled to keep up
my row. When in health I found little difficulty in keeping pace with
my fellow-laborers, but now it seemed to be an utter impossibility.
Often I fell behind, when the driver's lash was sure to greet my back,
infusing into my sick and drooping body a little temporary energy.
I continued to decline until at length the whip became entirely
ineffectual. The sharpest sting of the rawhide could not arouse me.
Finally, in September, when the busy season of cotton picking was at
hand, I was unable to leave my cabin. Up to this time I had received
no medicine, nor any attention from my master or mistress. The old
cook visited me occasionally, preparing me corn-coffee, and sometimes
boiling a bit of bacon, when I had grown too feeble to accomplish it
myself.

When it was said that I would die, Master Epps, unwilling to bear
the loss, which the death of an animal worth a thousand dollars
would bring upon him, concluded to incur the expense of sending to
Holmesville for Dr. Wines. He announced to Epps that it was the
effect of the climate, and there was a probability of his losing me.
He directed me to eat no meat, and to partake of no more food than
was absolutely necessary to sustain life. Several weeks elapsed,
during which time, under the scanty diet to which I was subjected, I
had partially recovered. One morning, long before I was in a proper
condition to labor, Epps appeared at the cabin door, and, presenting
me a sack, ordered me to the cotton field. At this time I had had no
experience whatever in cotton picking. It was an awkward business
indeed. While others used both hands, snatching the cotton and
depositing it in the mouth of the sack, with a precision and dexterity
that was incomprehensible to me, I had to seize the boll with one
hand, and deliberately draw out the white, gushing blossom with the
other.

Depositing the cotton in the sack, moreover, was a difficulty that
demanded the exercise of both hands and eyes. I was compelled to pick
it from the ground where it would fall, nearly as often as from the
stalk where it had grown. I made havoc also with the branches, loaded
with the yet unbroken bolls, the long, cumbersome sack swinging from
side to side in a manner not allowable in the cotton field. After a
most laborious day I arrived at the gin-house with my load. When the
scale determined its weight to be only ninety-five pounds, not half
the quantity required of the poorest picker, Epps threatened the
severest flogging, but in consideration of my being a "raw hand,"
concluded to pardon me on that occasion. The following day, and
many days succeeding, I returned at night with no better success--I
was evidently not designed for that kind of labor. I had not the
gift--the dexterous fingers and quick motion of Patsey, who could
fly along one side of a row of cotton, stripping it of its undefiled
and fleecy whiteness miraculously fast. Practice and whipping were
alike unavailing, and Epps, satisfied of it at last, swore I was
a disgrace--that I was not fit to associate with a cotton-picking
"nigger"--that I could not pick enough in a day to pay the trouble
of weighing it, and that I should go into the cotton field no more.
I was now employed in cutting and hauling wood, drawing cotton from
the field to the gin-house, and performed whatever other service was
required. Suffice to say, I was never permitted to be idle.

It was rarely that a day passed by without one or more whippings. This
occurred at the time the cotton was weighed. The delinquent, whose
weight had fallen short, was taken out, stripped, made to lie upon the
ground, face downwards, when he received a punishment proportioned to
his offence. It is the literal, unvarnished truth, that the crack of
the lash, and the shrieking of the slaves, can be heard from dark till
bed time, on Epps' plantation, any day almost during the entire period
of the cotton-picking season.

The number of lashes is graduated according to the nature of the case.
Twenty-five are deemed a mere brush, inflicted, for instance, when a
dry leaf or piece of boll is found in the cotton, or when a branch
is broken in the field; fifty is the ordinary penalty following all
delinquencies of the next higher grade; one hundred is called severe:
it is the punishment inflicted for the serious offence of standing
idle in the field; from one hundred and fifty to two hundred is
bestowed upon him who quarrels with his cabin-mates, and five hundred,
well laid on, besides the mangling of the dogs, perhaps, is certain to
consign the poor, unpitied runaway to weeks of pain and agony.

During the two years Epps remained on the plantation at Bayou Huff
Power, he was in the habit, as often as once in a fortnight at least,
of coming home intoxicated from Holmesville. The shooting-matches
almost invariably concluded with a debauch. At such times he was
boisterous and half-crazy. Often he would break the dishes, chairs,
and whatever furniture he could lay his hands on. When satisfied
with his amusement in the house, he would seize the whip and walk
forth into the yard. Then it behooved the slaves to be watchful and
exceeding wary. The first one who came within reach felt the smart
of his lash. Sometimes for hours he would keep them running in all
directions, dodging around the corners of the cabins. Occasionally
he would come upon one unawares, and if he succeeded in inflicting a
fair, round blow, it was a feat that much delighted him. The younger
children, and the aged, who had become inactive, suffered then. In the
midst of the confusion he would slily take his stand behind a cabin,
waiting with raised whip, to dash it into the first black face that
peeped cautiously around the corner.

At other times he would come home in a less brutal humor. Then there
must be a merry-making. Then all must move to the measure of a tune.
Then Master Epps must needs regale his melodious ears with the music
of a fiddle. Then did he become buoyant, elastic, gaily "tripping the
light fantastic toe" around the piazza and all through the house.

Tibeats, at the time of my sale, had informed him I could play on
the violin. He had received his information from Ford. Through the
importunities of Mistress Epps, her husband had been induced to
purchase me one during a visit to New-Orleans. Frequently I was called
into the house to play before the family, mistress being passionately
fond of music.

All of us would be assembled in the large room of the great house,
whenever Epps came home in one of his dancing moods. No matter how
worn out and tired we were, there must be a general dance. When
properly stationed on the floor, I would strike up a tune.

"Dance, you d--d niggers, dance," Epps would shout.

Then there must be no halting or delay, no slow or languid movements;
all must be brisk, and lively, and alert. "Up and down, heel and toe,
and away we go," was the order of the hour. Epps' portly form mingled
with those of his dusky slaves, moving rapidly through all the mazes
of the dance.

Usually his whip was in his hand, ready to fall about the ears of
the presumptuous thrall, who dared to rest a moment, or even stop to
catch his breath. When he was himself exhausted, there would be a
brief cessation, but it would be very brief. With a slash, and crack,
and flourish of the whip, he would shout again, "Dance, niggers,
dance," and away they would go once more, pell-mell, while I spurred
by an occasional sharp touch of the lash, sat in a corner, extracting
from my violin a marvelous quick-stepping tune. The mistress often
upbraided him, declaring she would return to her father's house at
Cheneyville; nevertheless, there were times she could not restrain a
burst of laughter, on witnessing his uproarious pranks. Frequently,
we were thus detained until almost morning. Bent with excessive
toil--actually suffering for a little refreshing rest, and feeling
rather as if we could cast ourselves upon the earth and weep, many a
night in the house of Edwin Epps have his unhappy slaves been made to
dance and laugh.

Notwithstanding these deprivations in order to gratify the whim of
an unreasonable master, we had to be in the field as soon as it was
light, and during the day perform the ordinary and accustomed task.
Such deprivations could not be urged at the scales in extenuation of
any lack of weight, or in the cornfield for not hoeing with the usual
rapidity. The whippings were just as severe as if we had gone forth
in the morning, strengthened and invigorated by a night's repose.
Indeed, after such frantic revels, he was always more sour and savage
than before, punishing for slighter causes, and using the whip with
increased and more vindictive energy.

Ten years I toiled for that man without reward. Ten years of
my incessant labor has contributed to increase the bulk of his
possessions. Ten years I was compelled to address him with down-cast
eyes and uncovered head--in the attitude and language of a slave. I am
indebted to him for nothing, save undeserved abuse and stripes.

Beyond the reach of his inhuman thong, and standing on the soil of
the free State where I was born, thanks be to Heaven, I can raise my
head once more among men. I can speak of the wrongs I have suffered,
and of those who inflicted them, with upraised eyes. But I have no
desire to speak of him or any other one otherwise than truthfully.
Yet to speak truthfully of Edwin Epps would be to say--he is a man
in whose heart the quality of kindness or of justice is not found. A
rough, rude energy, united with an uncultivated mind and an avaricious
spirit, are his prominent characteristics. He is known as a "nigger
breaker," distinguished for his faculty of subduing the spirit of the
slave, and priding himself upon his reputation in this respect, as a
jockey boasts of his skill in managing a refractory horse. He looked
upon a colored man, not as a human being, responsible to his Creator
for the small talent entrusted to him, but as a "chattel personal," as
mere live property, no better, except in value, than his mule or dog.
When the evidence, clear and indisputable, was laid before him that I
was a free man, and as much entitled to my liberty as he--when, on the
day I left, he was informed that I had a wife and children, as dear
to me as his own babes to him, he only raved and swore, denouncing the
law that tore me from him, and declaring he would find out the man who
had forwarded the letter that disclosed the place of my captivity, if
there was any virtue or power in money, and would take his life. He
thought of nothing but his loss, and cursed me for having been born
free. He could have stood unmoved and seen the tongues of his poor
slaves torn out by the roots--he could have seen them burned to ashes
over a slow fire, or gnawed to death by dogs, if it only brought him
profit. Such a hard, cruel, unjust man is Edwin Epps.

There was but one greater savage on Bayou Boeuf than he. Jim Burns'
plantation was cultivated, as already mentioned, exclusively by women.
That barbarian kept their backs so sore and raw, that they could not
perform the customary labor demanded daily of the slave. He boasted of
his cruelty, and through all the country round was accounted a more
thorough-going, energetic man than even Epps. A brute himself, Jim
Burns had not a particle of mercy for his subject brutes, and like a
fool, whipped and scourged away the very strength upon which depended
his amount of gain.

Epps remained on Huff Power two years, when, having accumulated a
considerable sum of money, he expended it in the purchase of the
plantation on the east bank of Bayou Boeuf, where he still continues
to reside. He took possession of it in 1845, after the holidays
were passed. He carried thither with him nine slaves, all of whom,
except myself, and Susan, who has since died, remain there yet. He
made no addition to this force, and for eight years the following
were my companions in his quarters, viz: Abram, Wiley, Phebe, Bob,
Henry, Edward, and Patsey. All these, except Edward, born since, were
purchased out of a drove by Epps during the time he was overseer for
Archy B. Williams, whose plantation is situated on the shore of Red
River, not far from Alexandria.

Abram was tall, standing a full head above any common man. He is
sixty years of age, and was born in Tennessee. Twenty years ago, he
was purchased by a trader, carried into South Carolina, and sold to
James Buford, of Williamsburgh county, in that State. In his youth
he was renowned for his great strength, but age and unremitting toil
have somewhat shattered his powerful frame and enfeebled his mental
faculties.

Wiley is forty-eight. He was born on the estate of William Tassle,
and for many years took charge of that gentleman's ferry over the Big
Black River, in South Carolina.

Phebe was a slave of Buford, Tassle's neighbor, and having married
Wiley, he bought the latter, at her instigation. Buford was a kind
master, sheriff of the county, and in those days a man of wealth.

Bob and Henry are Phebe's children, by a former husband, their father
having been abandoned to give place to Wiley. That seductive youth
had insinuated himself into Phebe's affections, and therefore the
faithless spouse had gently kicked her first husband out of her cabin
door. Edward had been born to them on Bayou Huff Power.

Patsey is twenty-three--also from Buford's plantation. She is in no
wise connected with the others, but glories in the fact that she is
the offspring of a "Guinea nigger," brought over to Cuba in a slave
ship, and in the course of trade transferred to Buford, who was her
mother's owner.

This, as I learned from them, is a genealogical account of my master's
slaves. For years they had been together. Often they recalled the
memories of other days, and sighed to retrace their steps to the
old home in Carolina. Troubles came upon their master Buford, which
brought far greater troubles upon them. He became involved in debt,
and unable to bear up against his failing fortunes, was compelled
to sell these, and others of his slaves. In a chain gang they had
been driven from beyond the Mississippi to the plantation of Archy
B. Williams. Edwin Epps, who, for a long while had been his driver
and overseer, was about establishing himself in business on his own
account, at the time of their arrival, and accepted them in payment of
his wages.

Old Abram was a kind-hearted being--a sort of patriarch among us,
fond of entertaining his younger brethren with grave and serious
discourse. He was deeply versed in such philosophy as is taught in
the cabin of the slave; but the great absorbing hobby of Uncle Abram
was General Jackson, whom his young master in Tennessee had followed
to the wars. He loved to wander back, in imagination, to the place
where he was born, and to recount the scenes of his youth during those
stirring times when the nation was in arms. He had been athletic,
and more keen and powerful than the generality of his race, but now
his eye had become dim, and his natural force abated. Very often,
indeed, while discussing the best method of baking the hoe-cake, or
expatiating at large upon the glory of Jackson, he would forget where
he left his hat, or his hoe, or his basket; and then would the old man
be laughed at, if Epps was absent, and whipped if he was present. So
was he perplexed continually, and sighed to think that he was growing
aged and going to decay. Philosophy and Jackson and forgetfulness had
played the mischief with him, and it was evident that all of them
combined were fast bringing down the gray hairs of Uncle Abram to the
grave.

Aunt Phebe had been an excellent field hand, but latterly was put
into the kitchen, where she remained, except occasionally, in a time
of uncommon hurry. She was a sly old creature, and when not in the
presence of her mistress or her master, was garrulous in the extreme.

Wiley, on the contrary, was silent. He performed his task without
murmur or complaint, seldom indulging in the luxury of speech, except
to utter a wish, that he was away from Epps, and back once more in
South Carolina.

Bob and Henry had reached the ages of twenty and twenty-three, and
were distinguished for nothing extraordinary or unusual, while Edward,
a lad of thirteen, not yet able to maintain his row in the corn or
the cotton field, was kept in the great house, to wait on the little
Eppses.

Patsey was slim and straight. She stood erect as the human form is
capable of standing. There was an air of loftiness in her movement,
that neither labor, nor weariness, nor punishment could destroy.
Truly, Patsey was a splendid animal, and were it not that bondage had
enshrouded her intellect in utter and everlasting darkness, would
have been chief among ten thousand of her people. She could leap the
highest fences, and a fleet hound it was indeed, that could outstrip
her in a race. No horse could fling her from his back. She was a
skillful teamster. She turned as true a furrow as the best, and at
splitting rails there were none who could excel her. When the order
to halt was heard at night, she would have her mules at the crib,
unharnessed, fed and curried, before uncle Abram had found his hat.
Not, however, for all or any of these, was she chiefly famous. Such
lightning-like motion was in her fingers as no other fingers ever
possessed, and therefore it was, that in cotton picking time, Patsey
was queen of the field.

She had a genial and pleasant temper, and was faithful and obedient.
Naturally, she was a joyous creature, a laughing, light-hearted girl,
rejoicing in the mere sense of existence. Yet Patsey wept oftener,
and suffered more, than any of her companions. She had been literally
excoriated. Her back bore the scars of a thousand stripes; not because
she was backward in her work, nor because she was of an unmindful and
rebellious spirit, but because it had fallen to her lot to be the
slave of a licentious master and a jealous mistress. She shrank before
the lustful eye of the one, and was in danger even of her life at the
hands of the other, and between the two, she was indeed accursed. In
the great house, for days together, there were high and angry words,
poutings and estrangement, whereof she was the innocent cause. Nothing
delighted the mistress so much as to see her suffer, and more than
once, when Epps had refused to sell her, has she tempted me with
bribes to put her secretly to death, and bury her body in some lonely
place in the margin of the swamp. Gladly would Patsey have appeased
this unforgiving spirit, if it had been in her power, but not like
Joseph, dared she escape from Master Epps, leaving her garment in his
hand. Patsey walked under a cloud. If she uttered a word in opposition
to her master's will, the lash was resorted to at once, to bring her
to subjection; if she was not watchful when about her cabin, or when
walking in the yard, a billet of wood, or a broken bottle perhaps,
hurled from her mistress' hand, would smite her unexpectedly in the
face. The enslaved victim of lust and hate, Patsey had no comfort of
her life.

These were my companions and fellow-slaves, with whom I was accustomed
to be driven to the field, and with whom it has been my lot to dwell
for ten years in the log cabins of Edwin Epps. They, if living, are
yet toiling on the banks of Bayou Boeuf, never destined to breathe,
as I now do, the blessed air of liberty, nor to shake off the heavy
shackles that enthrall them, until they shall lie down forever in the
dust.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: It is the season of hoeing, but Solomon finds himself weak and ill. Epps does not care, until the doctor says that Solomon will die and Epps will be out a thousand dollars. Solomon partially recovers but is soon sent out to pick cotton. He is not very good at it and is not yet healed, so his crop is thin. He is not designed for that sort of labor, as his fingers are neither dexterous nor quick. He is employed hauling wood and bringing cotton from the field to the gin-house, as well as doing numerous other tasks. Solomon writes bitterly that whippings occur every day on the plantation for any number of "causes. Sometimes when Epps is very drunk, he procures his whip and tries to snap at any slave he sees; usually, the young and aged bear that burden. Solomon is often called into the house to play music, as the mistress is fond of it. Epps forces the slaves to dance no matter how tired they are, and the next day they have to be up early to work in the fields. For ten years, Solomon toils without reward. For ten years, he addresses Epps modestly and demurely, and he gets nothing in return but stripes and abuse. Solomon wishes to be fair in his account, but Epps truly has no redeeming qualities. He is rude, rough, uncultivated, avaricious, prideful, cruel, and cares not a whit for his slaves. He boasts about being a "nigger-breaker". Only one man in Bayou Boeuf is crueler: Jim Burns, who employs an all-female force of slaves. Solomon's companions are the same for eight years: Abram, Wiley, Phebe, Phebe's children , Edward, and Patsey. Abram is sixty and quite tall; he loves to entertain them and admires General Andrew Jackson, whom his first master followed into war. Phebe works in the kitchen and is very garrulous. Wiley is silent. Bob and Henry do not have any distinguishing features to note, and Edward is very young. Patsey is splendid, slim, and athletic; she is the queen of picking cotton. She is a joyous woman, but, unfortunately, it is her lot to fall prey to Epps's lasciviousness. Mistress Epps thus despises her and wishes she were dead. Patsey walks under a cloud, a victim of lust and hate


prompt:
Chapter: DESTRUCTION OF THE COTTON CROP IN 1845--DEMAND FOR LABORERS IN ST.
  MARY'S PARISH--SENT THITHER IN A DROVE--THE ORDER OF THE MARCH--THE
  GRAND COTEAU--HIRED TO JUDGE TURNER ON BAYOU SALLE--APPOINTED
  DRIVER IN HIS SUGAR HOUSE--SUNDAY SERVICES SLAVE FURNITURE, HOW
  OBTAINED--THE PARTY AT YARNEY'S IN CENTREVILLE--GOOD FORTUNE--THE
  CAPTAIN OF THE STEAMER--HIS REFUSAL TO SECRETE ME--RETURN TO
  BAYOU BOEUF--SIGHT OF TIBEATS--PATSEY'S SORROWS--TUMULT AND
  CONTENTION--HUNTING THE COON AND OPOSSUM--THE CUNNING OF THE
  LATTER--THE LEAN CONDITION OF THE SLAVE--DESCRIPTION OF THE FISH
  TRAP--THE MURDER OF THE MAN FROM NATCHEZ--EPPS CHALLENGED BY
  MARSHALL--THE INFLUENCE OF SLAVERY--THE LOVE OF FREEDOM.

The first year of Epps' residence on the bayou, 1845, the caterpillars
almost totally destroyed the cotton crop throughout that region.
There was little to be done, so that the slaves were necessarily idle
half the time. However, there came a rumor to Bayou Boeuf that wages
were high, and laborers in great demand on the sugar plantations in
St. Mary's parish. This parish is situated on the coast of the Gulf
of Mexico, about one hundred and forty miles from Avoyelles. The Rio
Teche, a considerable stream, flows through St. Mary's to the gulf.

It was determined by the planters, on the receipt of this
intelligence, to make up a drove of slaves to be sent down to Tuckapaw
in St. Mary's, for the purpose of hiring them out in the cane fields.
Accordingly, in the month of September, there were one hundred and
forty-seven collected at Holmesville, Abram, Bob and myself among the
number. Of these about one-half were women. Epps, Alonson Pierce,
Henry Toler, and Addison Roberts, were the white men, selected to
accompany, and take charge of the drove. They had a two-horse carriage
and two saddle horses for their use. A large wagon, drawn by four
horses, and driven by John, a boy belonging to Mr. Roberts, carried
the blankets and provisions.

About 2 o'clock in the afternoon, having been fed, preparations were
made to depart. The duty assigned me was, to take charge of the
blankets and provisions, and see that none were lost by the way. The
carriage proceeded in advance, the wagon following; behind this the
slaves were arranged, while the two horsemen brought up the rear, and
in this order the procession moved out of Holmesville.

That night we reached a Mr. McCrow's plantation, a distance of ten or
fifteen miles, when we were ordered to halt. Large fires were built,
and each one spreading his blanket on the ground, laid down upon it.
The white men lodged in the great house. An hour before day we were
aroused by the drivers coming among us, cracking their whips and
ordering us to arise. Then the blankets were rolled up, and being
severally delivered to me and deposited in the wagon, the procession
set forth again.

The following night it rained violently. We were all drenched, our
clothes saturated with mud and water. Reaching an open shed, formerly
a gin-house, we found beneath it such shelter as it afforded. There
was not room for all of us to lay down. There we remained, huddled
together, through the night, continuing our march, as usual, in the
morning. During the journey we were fed twice a day, boiling our
bacon and baking our corn-cake at the fires in the same manner as in
our huts. We passed through Lafayetteville, Mountsville, New-Town,
to Centreville, where Bob and Uncle Abram were hired. Our number
decreased as we advanced--nearly every sugar plantation requiring the
services of one or more.

On our route we passed the Grand Coteau or prairie, a vast space of
level, monotonous country, without a tree, except an occasional one
which had been transplanted near some dilapidated dwelling. It was
once thickly populated, and under cultivation, but for some cause
had been abandoned. The business of the scattered inhabitants that
now dwell upon it is principally raising cattle. Immense herds were
feeding upon it as we passed. In the centre of the Grand Coteau one
feels as if he were on the ocean, out of sight of land. As far as the
eye can see, in all directions, it is but a ruined and deserted waste.

I was hired to Judge Turner, a distinguished man and extensive
planter, whose large estate is situated on Bayou Salle, within a few
miles of the gulf. Bay on Salle is a small stream flowing into the bay
of Atchafalaya. For some days I was employed at Turner's in repairing
his sugar house, when a cane knife was put into my hand, and with
thirty or forty others, I was sent into the field. I found no such
difficulty in learning the art of cutting cane that I had in picking
cotton. It came to me naturally and intuitively, and in a short time
I was able to keep up with the fastest knife. Before the cutting was
over, however, Judge Turner transferred me from the field to the sugar
house, to act there in the capacity of driver. From the time of the
commencement of sugar making to the close, the grinding and boiling
does not cease day or night. The whip was given me with directions to
use it upon any one who was caught standing idle. If I failed to obey
them to the letter, there was another one for my own back. In addition
to this my duty was to call on and off the different gangs at the
proper time. I had no regular periods of rest, and could never snatch
but a few moments of sleep at a time.

It is the custom in Louisiana, as I presume it is in other slave
States, to allow the slave to retain whatever compensation he may
obtain for services performed on Sundays. In this way, only, are they
able to provide themselves with any luxury or convenience whatever.
When a slave, purchased, or kidnapped in the North, is transported to
a cabin on Bayou Boeuf he is furnished with neither knife, nor fork,
nor dish, nor kettle, nor any other thing in the shape of crockery, or
furniture of any nature or description. He is furnished with a blanket
before he reaches there, and wrapping that around him, he can either
stand up, or lie down upon the ground, or on a board, if his master
has no use for it. He is at liberty to find a gourd in which to keep
his meal, or he can eat his corn from the cob, just as he pleases.
To ask the master for a knife, or skillet, or any small convenience
of the kind, would be answered with a kick, or laughed at as a joke.
Whatever necessary article of this nature is found in a cabin has been
purchased with Sunday money. However injurious to the morals, it is
certainly a blessing to the physical condition of the slave, to be
permitted to break the Sabbath. Otherwise there would be no way to
provide himself with any utensils, which seem to be indispensable to
him who is compelled to be his own cook.

On cane plantations in sugar time, there is no distinction as to
the days of the week. It is well understood that all hands must
labor on the Sabbath, and it is equally well understood that those
especially who are hired, as I was to Judge Turner, and others in
succeeding years, shall receive remuneration for it. It is usual,
also, in the most hurrying time of cotton-picking, to require the
same extra service. From this source, slaves generally are afforded
an opportunity of earning sufficient to purchase a knife, a kettle,
tobacco and so forth. The females, discarding the latter luxury, are
apt to expend their little revenue in the purchase of gaudy ribbons,
wherewithal to deck their hair in the merry season of the holidays.

I remained in St. Mary's until the first of January, during which
time my Sunday money amounted to ten dollars. I met with other
good fortune, for which I was indebted to my violin, my constant
companion, the source of profit, and soother of my sorrows during
years of servitude. There was a grand party of whites assembled at
Mr. Yarney's, in Centreville, a hamlet in the vicinity of Turner's
plantation. I was employed to play for them, and so well pleased were
the merry-makers with my performance, that a contribution was taken
for my benefit, which amounted to seventeen dollars.

With this sum in possession, I was looked upon by my fellows as a
millionaire. It afforded me great pleasure to look at it--to count
it over and over again, day after day. Visions of cabin furniture,
of water pails, of pocket knives, new shoes and coats and hats,
floated through my fancy, and up through all rose the triumphant
contemplation, that I was the wealthiest "nigger" on Bayou Boeuf.

Vessels run up the Rio Teche to Centreville. While there, I was bold
enough one day to present myself before the captain of a steamer, and
beg permission to hide myself among the freight. I was emboldened to
risk the hazard of such a step, from overhearing a conversation, in
the course of which I ascertained he was a native of the North. I did
not relate to him the particulars of my history, but only expressed
an ardent desire to escape from slavery to a free State. He pitied
me, but said it would be impossible to avoid the vigilant custom
house officers in New-Orleans, and that detection would subject him
to punishment, and his vessel to confiscation. My earnest entreaties
evidently excited his sympathies, and doubtless he would have yielded
to them, could he have done so with any kind of safety. I was
compelled to smother the sudden flame that lighted up my bosom with
sweet hopes of liberation, and turn my steps once more towards the
increasing darkness of despair.

Immediately after this event the drove assembled at Centreville, and
several of the owners having arrived and collected the monies due
for our services, we were driven back to Bayou Boeuf. It was on our
return, while passing through a small village, that I caught sight of
Tibeats, seated in the door of a dirty grocery, looking somewhat seedy
and out of repair. Passion and poor whisky, I doubt not, have ere this
laid him on the shelf.

During our absence, I learned from Aunt Phebe and Patsey, that the
latter had been getting deeper and deeper into trouble. The poor
girl was truly an object of pity. "Old Hogjaw," the name by which
Epps was called, when the slaves were by themselves, had beaten her
more severely and frequently than ever. As surely as he came from
Holmesville, elated with liquor--and it was often in those days--he
would whip her, merely to gratify the mistress; would punish her to
an extent almost beyond endurance, for an offence of which he himself
was the sole and irresistible cause. In his sober moments he could not
always be prevailed upon to indulge his wife's insatiable thirst for
vengeance.

To be rid of Patsey--to place her beyond sight or reach, by sale, or
death, or in any other manner, of late years, seemed to be the ruling
thought and passion of my mistress. Patsey had been a favorite when a
child, even in the great house. She had been petted and admired for
her uncommon sprightliness and pleasant disposition. She had been
fed many a time, so Uncle Abram said, even on biscuit and milk, when
the madam, in her younger days, was wont to call her to the piazza,
and fondle her as she would a playful Kitten. But a sad change had
come over the spirit of the woman. Now, only black and angry fiends
ministered in the temple of her heart, until she could look on Patsey
but with concentrated venom.

Mistress Epps was not naturally such an evil woman, after all. She was
possessed of the devil, jealousy, it is true, but aside from that,
there was much in her character to admire. Her father, Mr. Roberts,
resided in Cheneyville, an influential and honorable man, and as
much respected throughout the parish as any other citizen. She had
been well educated at some institution this side the Mississippi;
was beautiful, accomplished, and usually good-humored. She was kind
to all of us but Patsey--frequently, in the absence of her husband,
sending out to us some little dainty from her own table. In other
situations--in a different society from that which exists on the
shores of Bayou Boeuf, she would have been pronounced an elegant and
fascinating woman. An ill wind it was that blew her into the arms of
Epps.

He respected and loved his wife as much as a coarse nature like his
is capable of loving, but supreme selfishness always overmastered
conjugal affection.

  "He loved as well as baser natures can,
  But a mean heart and soul were in that man."

He was ready to gratify any whim--to grant any request she made,
provided it did not cost too much. Patsey was equal to any two of his
slaves in the cotton field. He could not replace her with the same
money she would bring. The idea of disposing of her, therefore, could
not be entertained. The mistress did not regard her at all in that
light. The pride of the haughty woman was aroused; the blood of the
fiery southern boiled at the sight of Patsey, and nothing less than
trampling out the life of the helpless bondwoman would satisfy her.

Sometimes the current of her wrath turned upon him whom she had
just cause to hate. But the storm of angry words would pass over at
length, and there would be a season of calm again. At such times
Patsey trembled with fear, and cried as if her heart would break,
for she knew from painful experience, that if mistress should work
herself to the red-hot pitch of rage, Epps would quiet her at last
with a promise that Patsey should be flogged--a promise he was sure
to keep. Thus did pride, and jealousy, and vengeance war with
avarice and brute-passion in the mansion of my master, filling it
with daily tumult and contention. Thus, upon the head of Patsey--the
simple-minded slave, in whose heart God had implanted the seeds of
virtue--the force of all these domestic tempests spent itself at last.

During the summer succeeding my return from St. Mary's parish, I
conceived a plan of providing myself with food, which, though simple,
succeeded beyond expectation. It has been followed by many others
in my condition, up and down the bayou, and of such benefit has it
become that I am almost persuaded to look upon myself as a benefactor.
That summer the worms got into the bacon. Nothing but ravenous hunger
could induce us to swallow it. The weekly allowance of meal scarcely
sufficed to satisfy us. It was customary with us, as it is with all in
that region, where the allowance is exhausted before Saturday night,
or is in such a state as to render it nauseous and disgusting, to
hunt in the swamps for coon and opossum. This, however, must be done
at night, after the day's work is accomplished. There are planters
whose slaves, for months at a time, have no other meat than such as is
obtained in this manner. No objections are made to hunting, inasmuch
as it dispenses with drafts upon the smoke-house, and because every
marauding coon that is killed is so much saved from the standing corn.
They are hunted with dogs and clubs, slaves not being allowed the use
of fire-arms.

The flesh of the coon is palatable, but verily there is nothing in
all butcherdom so delicious as a roasted 'possum. They are a round,
rather long-bodied, little animal, of a whitish color, with nose like
a pig, and caudal extremity like a rat. They burrow among the roots
and in the hollows of the gum tree, and are clumsy and slow of motion.
They are deceitful and cunning creatures. On receiving the slightest
tap of a stick, they will roll over on the ground and feign death. If
the hunter leaves him, in pursuit of another, without first taking
particular pains to break his neck, the chances are, on his return, he
is not to be found. The little animal has out witted the enemy--has
"played 'possum"--and is off. But after a long and hard day's work,
the weary slave feels little like going to the swamp for his supper,
and half the time prefers throwing himself on the cabin floor without
it. It is for the interest of the master that the servant should not
suffer in health from starvation, and it is also for his interest that
he should not become gross from over-feeding. In the estimation of the
owner, a slave is the most serviceable when in rather a lean and lank
condition, such a condition as the race-horse is in, when fitted for
the course, and in that condition they are generally to be found on
the sugar and cotton plantations along Red River.

My cabin was within a few rods of the bayou bank, and necessity
being indeed the mother of invention, I resolved upon a mode of
obtaining the requisite amount of food, without the trouble of
resorting nightly to the woods. This was to construct a fish trap.
Having, in my mind, conceived the manner in which it could be done,
the next Sunday I set about putting it into practical execution. It
may be impossible for me to convey to the reader a full and correct
idea of its construction, but the following will serve as a general
description:

A frame between two and three feet square is made, and of a greater
or less height, according to the depth of water. Boards or slats are
nailed on three sides of this frame, not so closely, however, as to
prevent the water circulating freely through it. A door is fitted
into the fourth side, in such manner that it will slide easily up
and down in the grooves cut in the two posts. A movable bottom is
then so fitted that it can be raised to the top of the frame without
difficulty. In the centre of the movable bottom an auger hole is
bored, and into this one end of a handle or round stick is fastened
on the under side so loosely that it will turn. The handle ascends
from the centre of the movable bottom to the top of the frame, or as
much higher as is desirable. Up and down this handle, in a great many
places, are gimlet holes, through which small sticks are inserted,
extending to opposite sides of the frame. So many of these small
sticks are running out from the handle in all directions, that a fish
of any considerable dimensions cannot pass through without hitting one
of them. The frame is then placed in the water and made stationary.

The trap is "set" by sliding or drawing up the door, and kept in that
position by another stick, one end of which rests in a notch on the
inner side, the other end in a notch made in the handle, running up
from the centre of the movable bottom. The trap is baited by rolling
a handful of wet meal and cotton together until it becomes hard, and
depositing it in the back part of the frame. A fish swimming through
the upraised door towards the bait, necessarily strikes one of the
small sticks turning the handle, which displacing the stick supporting
the door, the latter falls, securing the fish within the frame. Taking
hold of the top of the handle, the movable bottom is then drawn up to
the surface of the water, and the fish taken out. There may have been
other such traps in use before mine was constructed, but if there were
I had never happened to see one. Bayou Boeuf abounds in fish of large
size and excellent quality, and after this time I was very rarely in
want of one for myself, or for my comrades. Thus a mine was opened--a
new resource was developed, hitherto unthought of by the enslaved
children of Africa, who toil and hunger along the shores of that
sluggish, but prolific stream.

About the time of which I am now writing, an event occurred in our
immediate neighborhood, which made a deep impression upon me, and
which shows the state of society existing there, and the manner in
which affronts are oftentimes avenged. Directly opposite our quarters,
on the other side of the bayou, was situated the plantation of
Mr. Marshall. He belonged to a family among the most wealthy and
aristocratic in the country. A gentleman from the vicinity of Natchez
had been negotiating with him for the purchase of the estate. One
day a messenger came in great haste to our plantation, saying that a
bloody and fearful battle was going on at Marshall's--that blood had
been spilled--and unless the combatants were forthwith separated, the
result would be disastrous.

On repairing to Marshall's house, a scene presented itself that
beggars description. On the floor of one of the rooms lay the ghastly
corpse of the man from Natchez, while Marshall, enraged and covered
with wounds and blood, was stalking back and forth, "breathing out
threatenings and slaughter." A difficulty had arisen in the course of
their negotiation, high words ensued, when drawing their weapons, the
deadly strife began that ended so unfortunately. Marshall was never
placed in confinement. A sort of trial or investigation was had at
Marksville, when he was acquitted, and returned to his plantation,
rather more respected, as I thought, than ever, from the fact that the
blood of a fellow being was on his soul.

Epps interested himself in his behalf, accompanying him to Marksville,
and on all occasions loudly justifying him, but his services in this
respect did not afterwards deter a kinsman of this same Marshall
from seeking his life also. A brawl occurred between them over a
gambling-table, which terminated in a deadly feud. Riding up on
horseback in front of the house one day, armed with pistols and
bowie knife, Marshall challenged him to come forth and make a final
settlement of the quarrel, or he would brand him as a coward, and
shoot him like a dog the first opportunity. Not through cowardice,
nor from any conscientious scruples, in my opinion, but through the
influence of his wife, he was restrained from accepting the challenge
of his enemy. A reconciliation, however, was effected afterward, since
which time they have been on terms of the closest intimacy.

Such occurrences, which would bring upon the parties concerned in them
merited and condign punishment in the Northern States, are frequent on
the bayou, and pass without notice, and almost without comment. Every
man carries his bowie knife, and when two fall out, they set to work
hacking and thrusting at each other, more like savages than civilized
and enlightened beings.

The existence of Slavery in its most cruel form among them, has a
tendency to brutalize the humane and finer feelings of their nature.
Daily witnesses of human suffering--listening to the agonizing
screeches of the slave--beholding him writhing beneath the merciless
lash--bitten and torn by dogs--dying without attention, and buried
without shroud or coffin--it cannot otherwise be expected, than
that they should become brutified and reckless of human life. It
is true there are many kind-hearted and good men in the parish of
Avoyelles--such men as William Ford--who can look with pity upon
the sufferings of a slave, just as there are, over all the world,
sensitive and sympathetic spirits, who cannot look with indifference
upon the sufferings of any creature which the Almighty has endowed
with life. It is not the fault of the slaveholder that he is cruel, so
much as it is the fault of the system under which he lives. He cannot
withstand the influence of habit and associations that surround him.
Taught from earliest childhood, by all that he sees and hears, that
the rod is for the slave's back, he will not be apt to change his
opinions in maturer years.

There may be humane masters, as there certainly are inhuman
ones--there may be slaves well-clothed, well-fed, and happy, as there
surely are those half-clad, half-starved and miserable; nevertheless,
the institution that tolerates such wrong and inhumanity as I have
witnessed, is a cruel, unjust, and barbarous one. Men may write
fictions portraying lowly life as it is, or as it is not--may
expatiate with owlish gravity upon the bliss of ignorance--discourse
flippantly from arm chairs of the pleasures of slave life; but let
them toil with him in the field--sleep with him in the cabin--feed
with him on husks; let them behold him scourged, hunted, trampled
on, and they will come back with another story in their mouths.
Let them know the _heart_ of the poor slave--learn his secret
thoughts--thoughts he dare not utter in the hearing of the white man;
let them sit by him in the silent watches of the night--converse with
him in trustful confidence, of "life, liberty, and the pursuit of
happiness," and they will find that ninety-nine out of every hundred
are intelligent enough to understand their situation, and to cherish
in their bosoms the love of freedom, as passionately as themselves.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: In 1845, the caterpillars destroy the cotton crop throughout the region. There is a rumor that wages are high and laborers are in demand on the sugar plantations in St. Mary's parish, so a drove of slaves is sent down there. It is a long trek full of inclement weather, but they make it to the region. Solomon works for Judge Turner, a distinguished man with an estate in Bayou Salle. He finds it much easier to cut cane than to pick cotton. Eventually, he is transferred to the sugar house to act as driver. During sugar-harvesting time, labor does not cease at all; Solomon's job is to whip anyone not performing efficiently enough. It is a custom in Louisiana to allow slaves to retain whatever compensation they receive on Sundays. Solomon is furnished with a blanket and is allowed to have a gourd, but he is not furnished with a knife, nor a cup, nor a plate. During the sugar time, there is no distinction between the days of the week, and everyone knows slaves must labor on the Sabbath. However, they do receive remuneration, and most are able to purchase small luxuries with this money. Solomon plays his violin constantly and makes money that way, becoming the wealthiest slave in the region and finding succor from his despair. The slaves return to Bayou Boeuf. Solomon learns from Phebe that Patsey is getting deeper and deeper into trouble. Epps covets her more and then whips her to gratify the mistress. The mistress wants her out of her sight--or, at least, she wants her to suffer. Solomon writes that Mistress Epps is an educated, beautiful, and accomplished woman; she is good to all the slaves except Patsey. Epps would gratify any whim his wife had, as he loves her in his own coarse way, but his selfishness prevents him from getting rid of Patsey. On Patsey's head, "the force of all these domestic tempests spent itself". During the summer after Solomon returns from the sugar plantation, he learns how to provide himself with food. The bacon rations are disgusting and filled with worms, and it is hard to hunt for coons or opossum without firearms. Solomon decides to construct a fish trap; the area of Bayou Boeuf is rich in number and variety of fish, and this trap works well enough to keep Solomon and his companions relatively full. On the opposite side of the bayou is Mr. Marshall's plantation. He comes from an aristocratic family and is accustomed to getting what he wants. One day, Solomon writes, a man from Natchez is negotiating with Marshall to purchase the estate. A messenger arrives at Epps's saying there is a bloody battle going on. Marshall kills Natchez due to a difficulty in their negotiations. Solomon remarks that this would have resulted in punishment in the North, but here in the South, violence is common and almost passes without notice. Slavery exacerbates man's propensity to sin and violence. Solomon does not blame the slaveholder for being cruel: he blames the system and the fact that man cannot withstand the influence of it. There are humane masters and inhumane ones, happier slaves and more depressed ones, but overall, every slave--either somewhere deep down or on the surface--hopes for "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness


prompt:
Chapter: LABORS ON SUGAR PLANTATIONS--THE MODE OF PLANTING CANE--OF
  HOEING CANE--CANE RICKS--CUTTING CANE--DESCRIPTION OF THE CANE
  KNIFE--WINROWING--PREPARING FOR SUCCEEDING CROPS--DESCRIPTION OF
  HAWKINS' SUGAR MILL ON BAYOU BOEUF--THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS--THE
  CARNIVAL SEASON OF THE CHILDREN OF BONDAGE--THE CHRISTMAS
  SUPPER--RED, THE FAVORITE COLOR--THE VIOLIN, AND THE CONSOLATION IT
  AFFORDED--THE CHRISTMAS DANCE--LIVELY, THE COQUETTE--SAM ROBERTS, AND
  HIS RIVALS--SLAVE SONGS--SOUTHERN LIFE AS IT IS--THREE DAYS IN THE
  YEAR--THE SYSTEM OF MARRIAGE--UNCLE ABRAM'S CONTEMPT OF MATRIMONY.

In consequence of my inability in cotton-picking, Epps was in the
habit of hiring me out on sugar plantations during the season of
cane-cutting and sugar-making. He received for my services a dollar
a day, with the money supplying my place on his cotton plantation.
Cutting cane was an employment that suited me, and for three
successive years I held the lead row at Hawkins', leading a gang of
from fifty to an hundred hands.

In a previous chapter the mode of cultivating cotton is described.
This may be the proper place to speak of the manner of cultivating
cane.

The ground is prepared in beds, the same as it is prepared for the
reception of the cotton seed, except it is ploughed deeper. Drills
are made in the same manner. Planting commences in January, and
continues until April. It is necessary to plant a sugar field only
once in three years. Three crops are taken before the seed or plant is
exhausted.

Three gangs are employed in the operation. One draws the cane from the
rick, or stack, cutting the top and flags from the stalk, leaving only
that part which is sound and healthy. Each joint of the cane has an
eye, like the eye of a potato, which sends forth a sprout when buried
in the soil. Another gang lays the cane in the drill, placing two
stalks side by side in such manner that joints will occur once in four
or six inches. The third gang follows with hoes, drawing earth upon
the stalks, and covering them to the depth, of three inches.

In four weeks, at the farthest, the sprouts appear above the ground,
and from this time forward grow with great rapidity. A sugar field is
hoed three times, the same as cotton, save that a greater quantity of
earth is drawn to the roots. By the first of August hoeing is usually
over. About the middle of September, whatever is required for seed is
cut and stacked in ricks, as they are termed. In October it is ready
for the mill or sugar-house, and then the general cutting begins. The
blade of a cane-knife is fifteen inches long, three inches wide in the
middle, and tapering towards the point and handle. The blade is thin,
and in order to be at all serviceable must be kept very sharp. Every
third hand takes the lead of two others, one of whom is on each side
of him. The lead hand, in the first place, with a blow of his knife
shears the flags from the stalk. He next cuts off the top down as far
as it is green. He must be careful to sever all the green from the
ripe part, inasmuch as the juice of the former sours the molasses, and
renders it unsalable. Then he severs the stalk at the root, and lays
it directly behind him. His right and left hand companions lay their
stalks, when cut in the same manner, upon his. To every three hands
there is a cart, which follows, and the stalks are thrown into it by
the younger slaves, when it is drawn to the sugar-house and ground.

If the planter apprehends a frost, the cane is winrowed. Winrowing is
the cutting the stalks at an early period and throwing them lengthwise
in the water furrow in such a manner that the tops will cover the
butts of the stalks. They will remain in this condition three weeks or
a month without souring, and secure from frost. When the proper time
arrives, they are taken up, trimmed and carted to the sugar-house.

In the month of January the slaves enter the field again to prepare
for another crop. The ground is now strewn with the tops, and flags
cut from the past year's cane. On a dry day fire is set to this
combustible refuse, which sweeps over the field, leaving it bare and
clean, and ready for the hoes. The earth is loosened about the roots
of the old stubble, and in process of time another crop springs up
from the last year's seed. It is the same the year following; but the
third year the seed has exhausted its strength, and the field must be
ploughed and planted again. The second year the cane is sweeter and
yields more than the first, and the third year more than the second.

During the three seasons I labored on Hawkins' plantation, I was
employed a considerable portion of the time in the sugar-house. He is
celebrated as the producer of the finest variety of white sugar. The
following is a general description of his sugar-house and the process
of manufacture:

The mill is an immense brick building, standing on the shore of the
bayou. Running out from the building is an open shed, at least an
hundred feet in length and forty or fifty feet in width. The boiler in
which the steam is generated is situated outside the main building;
the machinery and engine rest on a brick pier, fifteen feet above
the floor, within the body of the building. The machinery turns two
great iron rollers, between two and three feet in diameter and six
or eight feet in length. They are elevated above the brick pier, and
roll in towards each other. An endless carrier, made of chain and
wood, like leathern belts used in small mills, extends from the iron
rollers out of the main building and through the entire length of the
open shed. The carts in which the cane is brought from the field as
fast as it is cut, are unloaded at the sides of the shed. All along
the endless carrier are ranged slave children, whose business it is
to place the cane upon it, when it is conveyed through the shed into
the main building, where it falls between the rollers, is crushed, and
drops upon another carrier that conveys it out of the main building
in an opposite direction, depositing it in the top of a chimney upon
a fire beneath, which consumes it. It is necessary to burn it in
this manner, because otherwise it would soon fill the building, and
more especially because it would soon sour and engender disease. The
juice of the cane falls into a conductor underneath the iron rollers,
and is carried into a reservoir. Pipes convey it from thence into
five filterers, holding several hogsheads each. These filterers are
filled with bone-black, a substance resembling pulverized charcoal.
It is made of bones calcinated in close vessels, and is used for the
purpose of decolorizing, by filtration, the cane juice before boiling.
Through these five filterers it passes in succession, and then runs
into a large reservoir underneath the ground floor, from whence it is
carried up, by means of a steam pump, into a clarifier made of sheet
iron, where it is heated by steam until it boils. From the first
clarifier it is carried in pipes to a second and a third, and thence
into close iron pans, through which tubes pass, filled with steam.
While in a boiling state it flows through three pans in succession,
and is then carried in other pipes down to the coolers on the ground
floor. Coolers are wooden boxes with sieve bottoms made of the finest
wire. As soon as the syrup passes into the coolers, and is met by the
air, it grains, and the molasses at once escapes through the sieves
into a cistern below. It is then white or loaf sugar of the finest
kind--clear, clean, and as white as snow. When cool, it is taken out,
packed in hogsheads, and is ready for market. The molasses is then
carried from the cistern into the upper story again, and by another
process converted into brown sugar.

There are larger mills, and those constructed differently from the one
thus imperfectly described, but none, perhaps, more celebrated than
this anywhere on Bayou Boeuf. Lambert, of New-Orleans, is a partner of
Hawkins. He is a man of vast wealth, holding, as I have been told, an
interest in over forty different sugar plantations in Louisiana.

       *       *       *       *       *

The only respite from constant labor the slave has through the whole
year, is during the Christmas holidays. Epps allowed us three--others
allow four, five and six days, according to the measure of their
generosity. It is the only time to which they look forward with any
interest or pleasure. They are glad when night comes, not only because
it brings them a few hours repose, but because it brings them one day
nearer Christmas. It is hailed with equal delight by the old and the
young; even Uncle Abram ceases to glorify Andrew Jackson, and Patsey
forgets her many sorrows, amid the general hilarity of the holidays.
It is the time of feasting, and frolicking, and fiddling--the carnival
season with the children of bondage. They are the only days when they
are allowed a little restricted liberty, and heartily indeed do they
enjoy it.

It is the custom for one planter to give a "Christmas supper,"
inviting the slaves from neighboring plantations to join his own on
the occasion; for instance, one year it is given by Epps, the next
by Marshall, the next by Hawkins, and so on. Usually from three to
five hundred are assembled, coming together on foot, in carts, on
horseback, on mules, riding double and triple, sometimes a boy and
girl, at others a girl and two boys, and at others again a boy, a girl
and an old woman. Uncle Abram astride a mule, with Aunt Phebe and
Patsey behind him, trotting towards a Christmas supper, would be no
uncommon sight on Bayou Boeuf.

Then, too, "of all days i' the year," they array themselves in their
best attire. The cotton coat has been washed clean, the stump of a
tallow candle has been applied to the shoes, and if so fortunate as
to possess a rimless or a crownless hat, it is placed jauntily on the
head. They are welcomed with equal cordiality, however, if they come
bare-headed and barefooted to the feast. As a general thing, the women
wear handkerchiefs tied about their heads, but if chance has thrown in
their way a fiery red ribbon, or a cast-off bonnet of their mistress'
grandmother, it is sure to be worn on such occasions. Red--the deep
blood red--is decidedly the favorite color among the enslaved damsels
of my acquaintance. If a red ribbon does not encircle the neck, you
will be certain to find all the hair of their woolly heads tied up
with red strings of one sort or another.

The table is spread in the open air, and loaded with varieties of
meat and piles of vegetables. Bacon and corn meal at such times are
dispensed with. Sometimes the cooking is performed in the kitchen on
the plantation, at others in the shade of wide branching trees. In
the latter case, a ditch is dug in the ground, and wood laid in and
burned until it is filled with glowing coals, over which chickens,
ducks, turkeys, pigs, and not unfrequently the entire body of a wild
ox, are roasted. They are furnished also with flour, of which biscuits
are made, and often with peach and other preserves, with tarts, and
every manner and description of pies, except the mince, that being an
article of pastry as yet unknown among them. Only the slave who has
lived all the years on his scanty allowance of meal and bacon, can
appreciate such suppers. White people in great numbers assemble to
witness the gastronomical enjoyments.

They seat themselves at the rustic table--the males on one side, the
females on the other. The two between whom there may have been an
exchange of tenderness, invariably manage to sit opposite; for the
omnipresent Cupid disdains not to hurl his arrows into the simple
hearts of slaves. Unalloyed and exulting happiness lights up the dark
faces of them all. The ivory teeth, contrasting with their black
complexions, exhibit two long, white streaks the whole extent of
the table. All round the bountiful board a multitude of eyes roll
in ecstacy. Giggling and laughter and the clattering of cutlery
and crockery succeed. Cuffee's elbow hunches his neighbor's side,
impelled by an involuntary impulse of delight; Nelly shakes her finger
at Sambo and laughs, she knows not why, and so the fun and merriment
flows on.

When the viands have disappeared, and the hungry maws of the children
of toil are satisfied, then, next in the order of amusement, is
the Christmas dance. My business on these gala days always was
to play on the violin. The African race is a music-loving one,
proverbially; and many there were among my fellow-bondsmen whose
organs of tune were strikingly developed, and who could thumb the
banjo with dexterity; but at the expense of appearing egotistical,
I must, nevertheless, declare, that I was considered the Ole Bull
of Bayou Boeuf. My master often received letters, sometimes from a
distance of ten miles, requesting him to send me to play at a ball or
festival of the whites. He received his compensation, and usually I
also returned with many picayunes jingling in my pockets--the extra
contributions of those to whose delight I had administered. In this
manner I became more acquainted than I otherwise would, up and down
the bayou. The young men and maidens of Holmesville always knew there
was to be a jollification somewhere, whenever Platt Epps was seen
passing through the town with his fiddle in his hand. "Where are you
going now, Platt?" and "What is coming off to-night, Platt?" would be
interrogatories issuing from every door and window, and many a time
when there was no special hurry, yielding to pressing importunities,
Platt would draw his bow, and sitting astride his mule, perhaps,
discourse musically to a crowd of delighted children, gathered around
him in the street.

Alas! had it not been for my beloved violin, I scarcely can
conceive how I could have endured the long years of bondage. It
introduced me to great houses--relieved me of many days' labor in the
field--supplied me with conveniences for my cabin--with pipes and
tobacco, and extra pairs of shoes, and oftentimes led me away from the
presence of a hard master, to witness scenes of jollity and mirth. It
was my companion--the friend of my bosom--triumphing loudly when I was
joyful, and uttering its soft, melodious consolations when I was sad.
Often, at midnight, when sleep had fled affrighted from the cabin, and
my soul was disturbed and troubled with the contemplation of my fate,
it would sing me a song of peace. On holy Sabbath days, when an hour
or two of leisure was allowed, it would accompany me to some quiet
place on the bayou bank, and, lifting up its voice, discourse kindly
and pleasantly indeed. It heralded my name round the country--made me
friends, who, otherwise would not have noticed me--gave me an honored
seat at the yearly feasts, and secured the loudest and heartiest
welcome of them all at the Christmas dance. The Christmas dance! Oh,
ye pleasure-seeking sons and daughters of idleness, who move with
measured step, listless and snail-like, through the slow-winding
cotillon, if ye wish to look upon the celerity, if not the "poetry of
motion"--upon genuine happiness, rampant and unrestrained--go down to
Louisiana, and see the slaves dancing in the starlight of a Christmas
night.

On that particular Christmas I have now in my mind, a description
whereof will serve as a description of the day generally, Miss Lively
and Mr. Sam, the first belonging to Stewart, the latter to Roberts,
started the ball. It was well known that Sam cherished an ardent
passion for Lively, as also did one of Marshall's and another of
Carey's boys; for Lively was _lively_ indeed, and a heart-breaking
coquette withal. It was a victory for Sam Roberts, when, rising from
the repast, she gave him her hand for the first "figure" in preference
to either of his rivals. They were somewhat crest-fallen, and, shaking
their heads angrily, rather intimated they would like to pitch into
Mr. Sam and hurt him badly. But not an emotion of wrath ruffled the
placid bosom of Samuel, as his legs flew like drum-sticks down the
outside and up the middle, by the side of his bewitching partner.
The whole company cheered them vociferously, and, excited with the
applause, they continued "tearing down" after all the others had
become exhausted and halted a moment to recover breath. But Sam's
superhuman exertions overcame him finally, leaving Lively alone, yet
whirling like a top. Thereupon one of Sam's rivals, Pete Marshall,
dashed in, and, with might and main, leaped and shuffled and threw
himself into every conceivable shape, as if determined to show Miss
Lively and all the world that Sam Roberts was of no account.

Pete's affection, however, was greater than his discretion. Such
violent exercise took the breath out of him directly, and he dropped
like an empty bag. Then was the time for Harry Carey to try his hand;
but Lively also soon out-winded him, amidst hurrahs and shouts, fully
sustaining her well-earned reputation of being the "fastest gal" on
the bayou.

One "set" off, another takes its place, he or she remaining longest
on the floor receiving the most uproarious commendation, and so the
dancing continues until broad daylight. It does not cease with the
sound of the fiddle, but in that case they set up a music peculiar to
themselves. This is called "patting," accompanied with one of those
unmeaning songs, composed rather for its adaptation to a certain tune
or measure, than for the purpose of expressing any distinct idea. The
patting is performed by striking the hands on the knees, then striking
the hands together, then striking the right shoulder with one hand,
the left with the other--all the while keeping time with the feet, and
singing, perhaps, this song:

        "Harper's creek and roarin' ribber,
        Thar, my dear, we'll live forebber;
        Den we'll go to de Ingin nation,
        All I want in dis creation,
        Is pretty little wife and big plantation.

    _Chorus._ Up dat oak and down dat ribber,
                     Two overseers and one little nigger."

Or, if these words are not adapted to the tune called for, it may be
that "Old Hog Eye" _is_--a rather solemn and startling specimen of
versification, not, however, to be appreciated unless heard at the
South. It runneth as follows:

    "Who's been here since I've been gone?
    Pretty little gal wid a josey on.

                            Hog Eye!
                            Old Hog Eye,
                            And Hosey too!

    Never see de like since I was born,
    Here come a little gal wid a josey on.

                            Hog Eye!
                            Old Hog Eye!
                            And Hosey too!"

Or, may be the following, perhaps, equally nonsensical, but full of
melody, nevertheless, as it flows from the negro's mouth:

    "Ebo Dick and Jurdan's Jo,
    Them two niggers stole my yo'.

        _Chorus._ Hop Jim along,
                        Walk Jim along,
                        Talk Jim along," &c.

    Old black Dan, as black as tar,
    He dam glad he was not dar.

                        Hop Jim along," &c.

During the remaining holidays succeeding Christmas, they are provided
with passes, and permitted to go where they please within a limited
distance, or they may remain and labor on the plantation, in which
case they are paid for it. It is very rarely, however, that the latter
alternative is accepted. They may be seen at these times hurrying in
all directions, as happy looking mortals as can be found on the face
of the earth. They are different beings from what they are in the
field; the temporary relaxation, the brief deliverance from fear, and
from the lash, producing an entire metamorphosis in their appearance
and demeanor. In visiting, riding, renewing old friendships, or,
perchance, reviving some old attachment, or pursuing whatever pleasure
may suggest itself, the time is occupied. Such is "southern life as it
is," _three days in the year_, as I found it--the other three hundred
and sixty-two being days of weariness, and fear, and suffering, and
unremitting labor.

Marriage is frequently contracted during the holidays, if such an
institution may be said to exist among them. The only ceremony
required before entering into that "holy estate," is to obtain the
consent of the respective owners. It is usually encouraged by the
masters of female slaves. Either party can have as many husbands or
wives as the owner will permit, and either is at liberty to discard
the other at pleasure. The law in relation to divorce, or to bigamy,
and so forth, is not applicable to property, of course. If the wife
does not belong on the same plantation with the husband, the latter
is permitted to visit her on Saturday nights, if the distance is not
too far. Uncle Abram's wife lived seven miles from Epps', on Bayou
Huff Power. He had permission to visit her once a fortnight, but he
was growing old, as has been said, and truth to say, had latterly
well nigh forgotten her. Uncle Abram had no time to spare from his
meditations on General Jackson--connubial dalliance being well enough
for the young and thoughtless, but unbecoming a grave and solemn
philosopher like himself.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Since Solomon is skilled at cutting cane, Epps often hires him out during the season. Solomon describes the process of cultivating cane. He begins by explaining that the land is only planted every three years. The joint of cane has an eye and sends out sprouts. The field is hoed three times and general cutting begins in October. A slave takes a knife, shears the flags from the stalk, severs the stalk at the root, and places the stalks on the cart. The stalks are taken to the sugar house and ground up. In January, the slaves prepare the field for another crop. The dry debris is set afire and the field left clean for the hoes. This works until the third year, at which point the seed has exhausted its strength and the field must be plowed and planted again. Solomon often works in the sugar house. The mill is a massive building with a great deal of machinery. Slave children place the cane on an iron roller that moves the cane to be crushed, dropped upon another carrier, and deposited on top of a chimney with a fire below. The juice falls into a conductor below as it burns and is collected in a reservoir. It then goes to filters, and then to coolers. Molasses and sugar are separated at this point, and the molasses is converted to brown sugar. The only respite slaves get from work is Christmas. They get a few days; Epps gives them three, while some other planters give up to six, and old and young alike delight in it. It is a time to feast and frolic. Slaves wear their best attire and go to one planter's meal that is provided for all the slaves in the region. The table is spread with glorious provisions and everyone seats themselves on benches. Many love matches are made, and laughter is frequent. After the food comes the Christmas dance, and, as Solomon was quite famous by then, he always played his fiddle. He believes that this instrument was essential to his surviving slavery. Solomon describes one Christmas where two men try to woo the pretty Lively, and the uproarious dancing and "patting" of hands to the beat. In the remaining days after Christmas, slaves get passes to go where they please within a limited distance. Slaves are ebullient to have this "freedom. Solomon reminds his readers that this lasts for only three days per year: the other three-hundred and sixty-two are full of unrelenting labor and sorrow