The day patrol continued for some weeks, and at sundown
a night guard was substituted. Nothing at all
was proved against the colored people, bond or free.
The wrath of the slaveholders was somewhat appeased
by the capture of Nat Turner. The imprisoned
were released. The slaves were sent to their
masters, and the free were permitted to return to their
ravaged homes. Visiting was strictly forbidden
on the plantations. The slaves begged the privilege
of again meeting at their little church in the woods,
with their burying ground around it. It was built
by the colored people, and they had no higher happiness
than to meet there and sing hymns together, and pour
out their hearts in spontaneous prayer. Their
request was denied, and the church was demolished.
They were permitted to attend the white churches, a
certain portion of the galleries being appropriated
to their use. There, when every body else had
partaken of the communion, and the benediction had
been pronounced, the minister said, “Come down,
now, my colored friends.” They obeyed the
summons, and partook of the bread and wine, in commemoration
of the meek and lowly Jesus, who said, “God is
your Father, and all ye are brethren.”
XIII. The Church And Slavery.
After the alarm caused by Nat Turner’s insurrection
had subsided, the slaveholders came to the conclusion
that it would be well to give the slaves enough of
religious instruction to keep them from murdering their
masters. The Episcopal clergyman offered to hold
a separate service on Sundays for their benefit.
His colored members were very few, and also very respectable—a
fact which I presume had some weight with him.
The difficulty was to decide on a suitable place for
them to worship. The Methodist and Baptist churches
admitted them in the afternoon; but their carpets
and cushions were not so costly as those at the Episcopal
church. It was at last decided that they should
meet at the house of a free colored man, who was a
member.
I was invited to attend, because I could read.
Sunday evening came, and, trusting to the cover of
night, I ventured out. I rarely ventured out by
daylight, for I always went with fear, expecting at
every turn to encounter Dr. Flint, who was sure to
turn me back, or order me to his office to inquire
where I got my bonnet, or some other article of dress.
When the Rev. Mr. Pike came, there were some twenty
persons present. The reverend gentleman knelt
in prayer, then seated himself, and requested all present,
who could read, to open their books, while he gave
out the portions he wished them to repeat or respond
to.
His text was, “Servants, be obedient to them
that are your masters according to the flesh, with
fear and trembling, in singleness of your heart, as
unto Christ.”
Copyrights
Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
