Chapter: I had not returned to my master's house since the birth of my child. The
old man raved to have me thus removed from his immediate power; but his
wife vowed, by all that was good and great, she would kill me if I came
back; and he did not doubt her word. Sometimes he would stay away for a
season. Then he would come and renew the old threadbare discourse about his
forbearance and my ingratitude. He labored, most unnecessarily, to convince
me that I had lowered myself. The venomous old reprobate had no need of
descanting on that theme. I felt humiliated enough. My unconscious babe was
the ever-present witness of my shame. I listened with silent contempt when
he talked about my having forfeited _his_ good opinion; but I shed bitter
tears that I was no longer worthy of being respected by the good and pure.
Alas! slavery still held me in its poisonous grasp. There was no chance for
me to be respectable. There was no prospect of being able to lead a better
life.

Sometimes, when my master found that I still refused to accept what he
called his kind offers, he would threaten to sell my child. "Perhaps that
will humble you," said he.

Humble _me_! Was I not already in the dust? But his threat lacerated my
heart. I knew the law gave him power to fulfil it; for slaveholders have
been cunning enough to enact that "the child shall follow the condition of
the _mother_," not of the _father_, thus taking care that licentiousness
shall not interfere with avarice. This reflection made me clasp my innocent
babe all the more firmly to my heart. Horrid visions passed through my mind
when I thought of his liability to fall into the slave trader's hands. I
wept over him, and said, "O my child! perhaps they will leave you in some
cold cabin to die, and then throw you into a hole, as if you were a dog."

When Dr. Flint learned that I was again to be a mother, he was exasperated
beyond measure. He rushed from the house, and returned with a pair of
shears. I had a fine head of hair; and he often railed about my pride of
arranging it nicely. He cut every hair close to my head, storming and
swearing all the time. I replied to some of his abuse, and he struck me.
Some months before, he had pitched me down stairs in a fit of passion; and
the injury I received was so serious that I was unable to turn myself in
bed for many days. He then said, "Linda, I swear by God I will never raise
my hand against you again;" but I knew that he would forget his promise.

After he discovered my situation, he was like a restless spirit from the
pit. He came every day; and I was subjected to such insults as no pen can
describe. I would not describe them if I could; they were too low, too
revolting. I tried to keep them from my grandmother's knowledge as much as
I could. I knew she had enough to sadden her life, without having my
troubles to bear. When she saw the doctor treat me with violence, and heard
him utter oaths terrible enough to palsy a man's tongue, she could not
always hold her peace. It was natural and motherlike that she should try to
defend me; but it only made matters worse.

When they told me my new-born babe was a girl, my heart was heavier than it
had ever been before. Slavery is terrible for men; but it is far more
terrible for women. Superadded to the burden common to all, _they_ have
wrongs, and sufferings, and mortifications peculiarly their own.

Dr. Flint had sworn that he would make me suffer, to my last day, for this
new crime against _him_, as he called it; and as long as he had me in his
power he kept his word. On the fourth day after the birth of my babe, he
entered my room suddenly, and commanded me to rise and bring my baby to
him. The nurse who took care of me had gone out of the room to prepare some
nourishment, and I was alone. There was no alternative. I rose, took up my
babe, and crossed the room to where he sat. "Now stand there," said he,
"till I tell you to go back!" My child bore a strong resemblance to her
father, and to the deceased Mrs. Sands, her grandmother. He noticed this;
and while I stood before him, trembling with weakness, he heaped upon me
and my little one every vile epithet he could think of. Even the
grandmother in her grave did not escape his curses. In the midst of his
vituperations I fainted at his feet. This recalled him to his senses. He
took the baby from my arms, laid it on the bed, dashed cold water in my
face, took me up, and shook me violently, to restore my consciousness
before any one entered the room. Just then my grandmother came in, and he
hurried out of the house. I suffered in consequence of this treatment; but
I begged my friends to let me die, rather than send for the doctor. There
was nothing I dreaded so much as his presence. My life was spared; and I
was glad for the sake of my little ones. Had it not been for these ties to
life, I should have been glad to be released by death, though I had lived
only nineteen years.

Always it gave me a pang that my children had no lawful claim to a name.
Their father offered his; but, if I had wished to accept the offer, I dared
not while my master lived. Moreover, I knew it would not be accepted at
their baptism. A Christian name they were at least entitled to; and we
resolved to call my boy for our dear good Benjamin, who had gone far away
from us.

My grandmother belonged to the church; and she was very desirous of having
the children christened. I knew Dr. Flint would forbid it, and I did not
venture to attempt it. But chance favored me. He was called to visit a
patient out of town, and was obliged to be absent during Sunday. "Now is
the time," said my grandmother; "we will take the children to church, and
have them christened."

When I entered the church, recollections of my mother came over me, and I
felt subdued in spirit. There she had presented me for baptism, without any
reason to feel ashamed. She had been married, and had such legal rights as
slavery allows to a slave. The vows had at least been sacred to _her_, and
she had never violated them. I was glad she was not alive, to know under
what different circumstances her grandchildren were presented for baptism.
Why had my lot been so different from my mother's? _Her_ master had died
when she was a child; and she remained with her mistress till she married.
She was never in the power of any master; and thus she escaped one class of
the evils that generally fall upon slaves.

When my baby was about to be christened, the former mistress of my father
stepped up to me, and proposed to give it her Christian name. To this I
added the surname of my father, who had himself no legal right to it; for
my grandfather on the paternal side was a white gentleman. What tangled
skeins are the genealogies of slavery! I loved my father; but it mortified
me to be obliged to bestow his name on my children.

When we left the church, my father's old mistress invited me to go home
with her. She clasped a gold chain round my baby's neck. I thanked her for
this kindness; but I did not like the emblem. I wanted no chain to be
fastened on my daughter, not even if its links were of gold. How earnestly
I prayed that she might never feel the weight of slavery's chain, whose
iron entereth into the soul!

 Things haven't really improved. Linda is still living with her grandmother, since Mrs. Flint threatened to kill her if she came back to the main house, and Dr. Flint is still harassing Linda and threatening to sell her child. This chapter is full of fun little incidents, like one day Dr. Flint throws Linda down the stairs. And then he cuts off all her hair when she gets pregnant again at the ripe old age of nineteen. Linda's new baby is a girl. This is a huge bummer for Linda, since slavery is bad but being an enslaved woman is even worse. One day when Dr. Flint is out of town visiting a patient, Aunt Martha and Linda take her two children to get baptized. During the baptism, Linda's father's old mistress steps up and says that she can give the new baby, the little girl, her Christian name. Linda accepts , and adds her father's last name. Of course, that name wasn't really his, since his paternal grandfather was white. Linda isn't thrilled about giving a white man's name to her children, but she has to name them something. After the baptism, Linda's father's old mistress puts a gold chain around the newborn's neck. Great! A teeny, tiny symbol of slavery.

