Chapter: WILEY DISREGARDS THE COUNSELS OF AUNT PHEBE AND UNCLE ABRAM,
  AND IS CAUGHT BY THE PATROLLERS--THE ORGANIZATION AND DUTIES OF
  THE LATTER--WILEY RUNS AWAY--SPECULATIONS IN REGARD TO HIM--HIS
  UNEXPECTED RETURN--HIS CAPTURE ON RED RIVER, AND CONFINEMENT
  IN ALEXANDRIA JAIL--DISCOVERED BY JOSEPH B. ROBERTS--SUBDUING
  DOGS IN ANTICIPATION OF ESCAPE--THE FUGITIVES IN THE GREAT PINE
  WOODS--CAPTURED BY ADAM TAYDEM AND THE INDIANS--AUGUSTUS KILLED
  BY DOGS--NELLY, ELDRET'S SLAVE WOMAN--THE STORY OF CELESTE--THE
  CONCERTED MOVEMENT--LEW CHENEY, THE TRAITOR--THE IDEA OF INSURRECTION.


The year 1850, down to which time I have now arrived, omitting many
occurrences uninteresting to the reader, was an unlucky year for my
companion Wiley, the husband of Phebe, whose taciturn and retiring
nature has thus far kept him in the background. Notwithstanding Wiley
seldom opened his mouth, and revolved in his obscure and unpretending
orbit without a grumble, nevertheless the warm elements of sociality
were strong in the bosom of that silent "nigger." In the exuberance
of his self-reliance, disregarding the philosophy of Uncle Abram,
and setting the counsels of Aunt Phebe utterly at naught, he had the
fool-hardiness to essay a nocturnal visit to a neighboring cabin
without a pass.

So attractive was the society in which he found himself, that Wiley
took little note of the passing hours, and the light began to break in
the east before he was aware. Speeding homeward as fast as he could
run, he hoped to reach the quarters before the horn would sound; but,
unhappily, he was spied on the way by a company of patrollers.

How it is in other dark places of slavery, I do not know, but on
Bayou Boeuf there is an organization of patrollers, as they are
styled, whose business it is to seize and whip any slave they may find
wandering from the plantation. They ride on horseback, headed by a
captain, armed, and accompanied by dogs. They have the right, either
by law, or by general consent, to inflict discretionary chastisement
upon a black man caught beyond the boundaries of his master's estate
without a pass, and even to shoot him, if he attempts to escape. Each
company has a certain distance to ride up and down the bayou. They
are compensated by the planters, who contribute in proportion to the
number of slaves they own. The clatter of their horses' hoofs dashing
by can be heard at all hours of the night, and frequently they may be
seen driving a slave before them, or leading him by a rope fastened
around his neck, to his owner's plantation.

Wiley fled before one of these companies, thinking he could reach
his cabin before they could overtake him; but one of their dogs, a
great ravenous hound, griped him by the leg, and held him fast. The
patrollers whipped him severely, and brought him, a prisoner, to
Epps. From him he received another flagellation still more severe,
so that the cuts of the lash and the bites of the dog rendered him
sore, stiff and miserable, insomuch he was scarcely able to move. It
was impossible in such a state to keep up his row, and consequently
there was not an hour in the day but Wiley felt the sting of his
master's rawhide on his raw and bleeding back. His sufferings became
intolerable, and finally he resolved to run away. Without disclosing
his intentions to run away even to his wife Phebe, he proceeded to
make arrangements for carrying his plan into execution. Having cooked
his whole week's allowance, he cautiously left the cabin on a Sunday
night, after the inmates of the quarters were asleep. When the horn
sounded in the morning, Wiley did not make his appearance. Search was
made for him in the cabins, in the corn-crib, in the cotton-house, and
in every nook and corner of the premises. Each of us was examined,
touching any knowledge we might have that could throw light upon his
sudden disappearance or present whereabouts. Epps raved and stormed,
and mounting his horse, galloped to neighboring plantations, making
inquiries in all directions. The search was fruitless. Nothing
whatever was elicited, going to show what had become of the missing
man. The dogs were led to the swamp, but were unable to strike his
trail. They would circle away through the forest, their noses to the
ground, but invariably returned in a short time to the spot from
whence they started.

Wiley had escaped, and so secretly and cautiously as to elude and
baffle all pursuit. Days and even weeks passed away, and nothing could
be heard of him. Epps did nothing but curse and swear. It was the only
topic of conversation among us when alone. We indulged in a great deal
of speculation in regard to him, one suggesting he might have been
drowned in some bayou, inasmuch as he was a poor swimmer; another,
that perhaps he might have been devoured by alligators, or stung by
the venomous moccasin, whose bite is certain and sudden death. The
warm and hearty sympathies of us all, however, were with poor Wiley,
wherever he might be. Many an earnest prayer ascended from the lips of
Uncle Abram, beseeching safety for the wanderer.

In about three weeks, when all hope of ever seeing him again was
dismissed, to our surprise, he one day appeared among us. On leaving
the plantation, he informed us, it was his intention to make his way
back to South Carolina--to the old quarters of Master Buford. During
the day he remained secreted, sometimes in the branches of a tree, and
at night pressed forward through the swamps. Finally, one morning,
just at dawn, he reached the shore of Red River. While standing on
the bank, considering how he could cross it, a white man accosted
him, and demanded a pass. Without one, and evidently a runaway, he
was taken to Alexandria, the shire town of the parish of Rapides,
and confined in prison. It happened several days after that Joseph
B. Roberts, uncle of Mistress Epps, was in Alexandria, and going
into the jail, recognized him. Wiley had worked on his plantation,
when Epps resided at Huff Power. Paying the jail fee, and writing him
a pass, underneath which was a note to Epps, requesting him not to
whip him on his return, Wiley was sent back to Bayou Boeuf. It was
the hope that hung upon this request, and which Roberts assured him
would be respected by his master, that sustained him as he approached
the house. The request, however, as may be readily supposed, was
entirely disregarded. After being kept in suspense three days, Wiley
was stripped, and compelled to endure one of those inhuman floggings
to which the poor slave is so often subjected. It was the first and
last attempt of Wiley to run away. The long scars upon his back, which
he will carry with him to the grave, perpetually remind him of the
dangers of such a step.

There was not a day throughout the ten years I belonged to Epps that I
did not consult with myself upon the prospect of escape. I laid many
plans, which at the time I considered excellent ones, but one after
the other they were all abandoned. No man who has never been placed
in such a situation, can comprehend the thousand obstacles thrown in
the way of the flying slave. Every white man's hand is raised against
him--the patrollers are watching for him--the hounds are ready to
follow on his track, and the nature of the country is such as renders
it impossible to pass through it with any safety. I thought, however,
that the time might come, perhaps, when I should be running through
the swamps again. I concluded, in that case, to be prepared for Epps'
dogs, should they pursue me. He possessed several, one of which was
a notorious slave-hunter, and the most fierce and savage of his
breed. While out hunting the coon or the opossum, I never allowed an
opportunity to escape, when alone, of whipping them severely. In this
manner I succeeded at length in subduing them completely. They feared
me, obeying my voice at once when others had no control over them
whatever. Had they followed and overtaken me, I doubt not they would
have shrank from attacking me.

Notwithstanding the certainty of being captured, the woods and swamps
are, nevertheless, continually filled with runaways. Many of them,
when sick, or so worn out as to be unable to perform their tasks,
escape into the swamps, willing to suffer the punishment inflicted for
such offences, in order to obtain a day or two of rest.

While I belonged to Ford, I was unwittingly the means of disclosing
the hiding-place of six or eight, who had taken up their residence in
the "Great Pine Woods." Adam Taydem frequently sent me from the mills
over to the opening after provisions. The whole distance was then a
thick pine forest. About ten o'clock of a beautiful moonlight night,
while walking along the Texas road, returning to the mills, carrying
a dressed pig in a bag swung over my shoulder, I heard footsteps
behind me, and turning round, beheld two black men in the dress of
slaves approaching at a rapid pace. When within a short distance,
one of them raised a club, as if intending to strike me; the other
snatched at the bag. I managed to dodge them both, and seizing a pine
knot, hurled it with such force against the head of one of them that
he was prostrated apparently senseless to the ground. Just then two
more made their appearance from one side of the road. Before they
could grapple me, however, I succeeded in passing them, and taking
to my heels, fled, much affrighted, towards the mills. When Adam was
informed of the adventure, he hastened straightway to the Indian
village, and arousing Cascalla and several of his tribe, started in
pursuit of the highwaymen. I accompanied them to the scene of attack,
when we discovered a puddle of blood in the road, where the man whom I
had smitten with the pine knot had fallen. After searching carefully
through the woods a long time, one of Cascalla's men discovered a
smoke curling up through the branches of several prostrate pines,
whose tops had fallen together. The rendezvous was cautiously
surrounded, and all of them taken prisoners. They had escaped from a
plantation in the vicinity of Lamourie, and had been secreted there
three weeks. They had no evil design upon me, except to frighten me
out of my pig. Having observed me passing towards Ford's just at
night-fall, and suspecting the nature of my errand, they had followed
me, seen me butcher and dress the porker, and start on my return.
They had been pinched for food, and were driven to this extremity by
necessity. Adam conveyed them to the parish jail, and was liberally
rewarded.

Not unfrequently the runaway loses his life in the attempt to escape.
Epps' premises were bounded on one side by Carey's, a very extensive
sugar plantation. He cultivates annually at least fifteen hundred
acres of cane, manufacturing twenty-two or twenty-three hundred
hogsheads of sugar; an hogshead and a half being the usual yield of
an acre. Besides this he also cultivates five or six hundred acres
of corn and cotton. He owned last year one hundred and fifty three
field hands, besides nearly as many children, and yearly hires a drove
during the busy season from this side the Mississippi.

One of his negro drivers, a pleasant, intelligent boy, was named
Augustus. During the holidays, and occasionally while at work in
adjoining fields, I had an opportunity of making his acquaintance,
which eventually ripened into a warm and mutual attachment. Summer
before last he was so unfortunate as to incur the displeasure of the
overseer, a coarse, heartless brute, who whipped him most cruelly.
Augustus ran away. Reaching a cane rick on Hawkins' plantation, he
secreted himself in the top of it. All Carey's dogs were put upon
his track--some fifteen of them--and soon scented his footsteps to
the hiding place. They surrounded the rick, baying and scratching,
but could not reach him. Presently, guided by the clamor of the
hounds, the pursuers rode up, when the overseer, mounting on to the
rick, drew him forth. As he rolled down to the ground the whole pack
plunged upon him, and before they could be beaten off, had gnawed and
mutilated his body in the most shocking manner, their teeth having
penetrated to the bone in an hundred places. He was taken up, tied
upon a mule, and carried home. But this was Augustus' last trouble. He
lingered until the next day, when death sought the unhappy boy, and
kindly relieved him from his agony.

It was not unusual for slave women as well as slave men to endeavor
to escape. Nelly, Eldret's girl, with whom I lumbered for a time in
the "Big Cane Brake," lay concealed in Epps' corn crib three days. At
night, when his family were asleep, she would steal into the quarters
for food, and return to the crib again. We concluded it would no
longer be safe for us to allow her to remain, and accordingly she
retraced her steps to her own cabin.

But the most remarkable instance of a successful evasion of dogs and
hunters was the following: Among Carey's girls was one by the name of
Celeste. She was nineteen or twenty, and far whiter than her owner, or
any of his offspring. It required a close inspection to distinguish
in her features the slightest trace of African blood. A stranger
would never have dreamed that she was the descendant of slaves. I was
sitting in my cabin late at night, playing a low air on my violin,
when the door opened carefully, and Celeste stood before me. She was
pale and haggard. Had an apparition arisen from the earth, I could
not have been more startled.

"Who are you?" I demanded, after gazing at her a moment.

"I'm hungry; give me some bacon," was her reply.

My first impression was that she was some deranged young mistress,
who, escaping from home, was wandering, she knew not whither, and
had been attracted to my cabin by the sound of the violin. The
coarse cotton slave dress she wore, however, soon dispelled such a
supposition.

"What is your name?" I again interrogated.

"My name is Celeste," she answered. "I belong to Carey, and have been
two days among the palmettoes. I am sick and can't work, and would
rather die in the swamp than be whipped to death by the overseer.
Carey's dogs won't follow me. They have tried to set them on. There's
a secret between them and Celeste, and they wont mind the devilish
orders of the overseer. Give me some meat--I'm starving."

I divided my scanty allowance with her, and while partaking of it,
she related how she had managed to escape, and described the place
of her concealment. In the edge of the swamp, not half a mile from
Epps' house, was a large space, thousands of acres in extent, thickly
covered with palmetto. Tall trees, whose long arms interlocked each
other, formed a canopy above them, so dense as to exclude the beams
of the sun. It was like twilight always, even in the middle of the
brightest day. In the centre of this great space, which nothing but
serpents very often explore--a sombre and solitary spot--Celeste had
erected a rude hut of dead branches that had fallen to the ground,
and covered it with the leaves of the palmetto. This was the abode
she had selected. She had no fear of Carey's dogs, any more than I
had of Epps'. It is a fact, which I have never been able to explain,
that there are those whose tracks the hounds will absolutely refuse to
follow. Celeste was one of them.

For several nights she came to my cabin for food. On one occasion our
dogs barked as she approached, which aroused Epps, and induced him
to reconnoitre the premises. He did not discover her, but after that
it was not deemed prudent for her to come to the yard. When all was
silent I carried provisions to a certain spot agreed upon, where she
would find them.

In this manner Celeste passed the greater part of the summer. She
regained her health, and became strong and hearty. At all seasons of
the year the howlings of wild animals can be heard at night along the
borders of the swamps. Several times they had made her a midnight
call, awakening her from slumber with a growl. Terrified by such
unpleasant salutations, she finally concluded to abandon her lonely
dwelling; and, accordingly, returning to her master, was scourged, her
neck meanwhile being fastened in the stocks, and sent into the field
again.

The year before my arrival in the country there was a concerted
movement among a number of slaves on Bayou Boeuf, that terminated
tragically indeed. It was, I presume, a matter of newspaper notoriety
at the time, but all the knowledge I have of it, has been derived from
the relation of those living at that period in the immediate vicinity
of the excitement. It has become a subject of general and unfailing
interest in every slave-hut on the bayou, and will doubtless go down
to succeeding generations as their chief tradition. Lew Cheney, with
whom I became acquainted--a shrewd, cunning negro, more intelligent
than the generality of his race, but unscrupulous and full of
treachery--conceived the project of organizing a company sufficiently
strong to fight their way against all opposition, to the neighboring
territory of Mexico.

A remote spot, far within the depths of the swamp, back of Hawkins'
plantation, was selected as the rallying point. Lew flitted from one
plantation to another, in the dead of night, preaching a crusade to
Mexico, and, like Peter the Hermit, creating a furor of excitement
wherever he appeared. At length a large number of runaways were
assembled; stolen mules, and corn gathered from the fields, and bacon
filched from smoke-houses, had been conveyed into the woods. The
expedition was about ready to proceed, when their hiding place was
discovered. Lew Cheney, becoming convinced of the ultimate failure of
his project, in order to curry favor with his master, and avoid the
consequences which he foresaw would follow, deliberately determined to
sacrifice all his companions. Departing secretly from the encampment,
he proclaimed among the planters the number collected in the swamp,
and, instead of stating truly the object they had in view, asserted
their intention was to emerge from their seclusion the first favorable
opportunity, and murder every white person along the bayou.

Such an announcement, exaggerated as it passed from mouth to mouth,
filled the whole country with terror. The fugitives were surrounded
and taken prisoners, carried in chains to Alexandria, and hung by
the populace. Not only those, but many who were suspected, though
entirely innocent, were taken from the field and from the cabin,
and without the shadow of process or form of trial, hurried to the
scaffold. The planters on Bayou Boeuf finally rebelled against such
reckless destruction of property, but it was not until a regiment of
soldiers had arrived from some fort on the Texan frontier, demolished
the gallows, and opened the doors of the Alexandria prison, that the
indiscriminate slaughter was stayed. Lew Cheney escaped, and was
even rewarded for his treachery. He is still living, but his name is
despised and execrated by all his race throughout the parishes of
Rapides and Avoyelles.

Such an idea as insurrection, however, is not new among the enslaved
population of Bayou Boeuf. More than once I have joined in serious
consultation, when the subject has been discussed, and there have
been times when a word from me would have placed hundreds of my
fellow-bondsmen in an attitude of defiance. Without arms or
ammunition, or even with them, I saw such a step would result in
certain defeat, disaster and death, and always raised my voice against
it.

During the Mexican war I well remember the extravagant hopes that were
excited. The news of victory filled the great house with rejoicing,
but produced only sorrow and disappointment in the cabin. In my
opinion--and I have had opportunity to know something of the feeling
of which I speak--there are not fifty slaves on the shores of Bayou
Boeuf, but would hail with unmeasured delight the approach of an
invading army.

They are deceived who flatter themselves that the ignorant and
debased slave has no conception of the magnitude of his wrongs. They
are deceived who imagine that he arises from his knees, with back
lacerated and bleeding, cherishing only a spirit of meekness and
forgiveness. A day may come--it _will_ come, if his prayer is heard--a
terrible day of vengeance, when the master in his turn will cry in
vain for mercy.

 Solomon recounts the sufferings of Wiley, who goes for a nocturnal visit without a pass. He is caught by a band of slave patrollers and is brought back. The patrollers whip him, and Epps does as well. His sufferings are so bad that he decides to run away. He tells no one and sets out. The search for him is fruitless; days and weeks pass. The slaves wonder if he survived. Three weeks later, Wiley appears. He had tried to make it back to his former master, Buford, but he was captured again without a pass and was thrown in prison in Alexandria. Joseph B. Roberts, uncle to Mistress Epps, happened to recognize him there, and he was sent back. Wiley is whipped again, and he never tries to run away after that. There are countless obstacles in the way of the fleeing slave. Solomon is always thinking of ways to escape, but he is aware of these obstacles. Every white man's hand is against him; everyone is looking for him. Solomon does manage to terrify Epps's dogs into never attacking him and he even learns to control them, just in case he is able to escape. Slaves who do escape are often caught and occasionally lose their lives. A boy named Augustus was mutilated by the dogs and died. A woman named Celeste once showed up at Epps's plantation and talked to Solomon in the field, telling him her story. She explained that her master's dogs would not touch her either, and that she was living in a space made between the tall trees at the edge of the swamp. She came to Solomon's cabin many times for food, but eventually her fear of the all the wild things in the swamp sent her back to her master, where she was scourged and sent into the field again. Solomon also mentions Lew Cheney, a slave plotting a rebellion and a fight all the way to Mexico. He became notorious, but he decided to turn in his fellow slaves to curry favor with his master. The white men in the region became so frightened and angry that they indiscriminately began hanging slaves until a regiment of soldiers from Texas shut this down. This march to Mexico is not a new idea, Solomon writes. He mentions how, during the Mexican-American War, many of the slaves cherished hope that an invading army would come for them. He adds that the master who thinks that the slave does not understand the magnitude of his situation does not understand the truth: that one day, vengeance will come for him

