Indiana American. [volume] (Brookville, Ind.) 1833-1861, 1855-07-06
SsIsttto GaIt.
THE AFRICAN PRINCESS;
A TRUE STORY.

so, thee would like TO know what
first Interested me so much in the
poor slave, and If thee will sit down
by me and listen, | will tell thee, said
a pleasant-looking Quakeress to her
young visitor.
when was a child. my home was
in the Sunny South, where the deli
cious orange blossoms perfumed the
air, and the golden fruitI hung almost
within my reach.
MY father owned many slaves. so
far as inheriting and buying them
could make them his, and both in his
town and country house we had plenty
to.wait upon us. and do the slightest
wish.
lie was called kind master, and
| suppose he was so; but rs he could
not live upon his plantation the great.
est part Of the year, because it was so
unhealthy. he was obliged to leave his
slaves in the charge Of those who
might not be so considerate OF their
comfort or their happiness.
while in town, he frequently at-
tended the slave market. and whenev-
er he saw one that took his fancy, he
would purchase, and add to his stock.
One morning. as he was looking over
collection that had been freshly i'm
ported from Africa, he saw two young
girls about the ages of my sister and
myself, and thinking they would make
good servants for us. he ordered them
to be sent to the house.
'On their arrival we were each pre-
sented with one, my father bidding us
10 teach them to be good and useful.
Every one loves power, and OF
course. young rs we were. we were
pleased to have little maids of our
own TO be entirely devoted to us
'Mine-whom | called Silpba-was
the prettier of the two. She was
slightly and delicately formed, with
small feet and hands. and tapering
fingers, evidently unused to labor.
AT first she carried her head proud
ly, and moved slowly to obey an or.
der-but soon she dropped. and
scarcely lifted her eyes from the
ground. We learned from my sisters
maid. that in her own land, Silpha
had been q princess, and that she had
been her slave. No wonder that she
could not bear her new position. Her
thoughts wandered back TO the home
she had left. and she pined for her
freedom. She grew saddor and sud
der-rcfused to eat, and her compan-
ions efforts to cheer her were of no
avail. In vain she sang her her own
wild native songs. told her stories in
her own Moorish tongue. In vain she
waited upon her, bringing her tempt
ing food. The royal maiden had no
heart to smile; sunlight nsr flowers
could not win her from her grief.
Not only had she been cruelty torn
from her kindred and people, and
borne to q distant land-but she had
been sold for money. and like II Gagged
bird could no longer roam at will
No more could she on her fleet Arab
horse chase over the hills and plains
Of her own country. Sh. was slave
for life. and must be ready to obey
the will of those who had paid for her
and claimed her as their property
Thoughts like these may have fretted
her proud spirit, and death, perhaps,
seemed welcome exchange for such
u life.
She fingered few months, and
then breathed her last sigh in the
arms of her faithful attendant. And
we who had watched the passing away
Of that young spirit, had learned a
lesson we never could forget. Sla-
very had revealed itself to US without
the need of an interpreter. and as we
grew older, we longed to be away
from influences so depressing.
OF course. while children under
the paternal roof, we had no choice;
but in after years we gladly gave up
home, and Kindred, and wealth, that
we might live where poor Jas well as
lich could enjoy the blessings of free
dom.
'Dost thu wonder. now, dear child,
that we care for the slaves. e and love
to see them freely. y. ndepend-
ent.