I worked till night—­till darkest night,
      In torture and disgrace;
    Went home and watched till morning light,
      To see my baby’s face.

    Then give me but one little hour—­
      O! do not lash me so! 
    One little hour—­one little hour—­
      And gratefully I’ll go.”

Mr. Walker commanded her to return into the ranks with the other slaves.  Women who had children were not chained, but those that had none were.  As soon as her child was disposed of, she was chained in the gang.

The following song I have often heard the slaves sing, when about to be carried to the far south.  It is said to have been composed by a slave.

    “See these poor souls from Africa
    Transported to America;
    We are stolen, and sold to Georgia,
    Will you go along with me? 
    We are stolen, and sold to Georgia,
    Come sound the jubilee!

    See wives and husbands sold apart,
    Their children’s screams will break my heart;—­
    There’s a better day a coming,
    Will you go along with me? 
    There’s a better day a coming,
    Go sound the jubilee!

    O, gracious Lord! when shall it be,
    That we poor souls shall all be free;
    Lord, break them slavery powers—­
    Will you go along with me? 
    Lord break them slavery powers,
    Go sound the jubilee!

    Dear Lord, dear Lord, when slavery’ll cease,
    Then we poor souls will have our peace;—­
    There’s a better day a coming,
    Will you go along with me? 
    There’s a better day a coming,
    Go sound the jubilee!”

We finally arrived at Mr. Walker’s farm.  He had a house built during our absence to put slaves in.  It was a kind of domestic jail.  The slaves were put in the jail at night, and worked on the farm during the day.  They were kept here until the gang was completed, when we again started for New Orleans, on board the steamboat North America, Capt.  Alexander Scott.  We had a large number of slaves in this gang.  One, by the name of Joe, Mr. Walker was training up to take my place, as my time was nearly out, and glad was I. We made our first stop at Vicksburg, where we remained one week and sold several slaves.

Mr. Walker, though not a good master, had not flogged a slave since I had been with him, though he had threatened me.  The slaves were kept in the pen, and he always put up at the best hotel, and kept his wines in his room, for the accommodation of those who called to negotiate with him for the purchase of slaves.  One day while we were at Vicksburg, several gentlemen came to see him for this purpose, and as usual the wine was called for.  I took the tray and started around with it, and having accidentally filled some of the glasses too full, the gentlemen spilled the wine on their clothes as they went to drink.  Mr. Walker apologized to them for my carelessness, but looked at me as though he would see me again on this subject.