The Manitowoc tribune. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1866-1878, 1868-11-12
Aunt Rachel---A Touching Story or Z
Negro who WaS once a Slave.


Negro who was once q Slave.
There has been few more beautiful or
affecting stories written than the follow
ing which we take from Oliver Dyer re-
cent lecture in Cooper Institute, New
York.
Aunt Rachel was a negress. she had
been 3 slave. The war had set her free.
She didn't know how old she was. Her
hair was sprinkled with gray, and her
face was furrowed with wrinkles; but her
eye was bright and her voice musical.
She lived in Fish Alley. Up in an attic
| came upon her accidentally. | was
looking for one of my mission Bible class
scholars. and had mistaken the house !;
and as | fumbled along the dark passage
way, l heard voice say, ''Who's dar,
honey? ?"
Standing in the door, which found
open. | asked who spake. The voice
said: Its me, marster, Aunt Rachel,
as the call me. [ struck match and
held it up towards the voice; and there
| dimly saw aunt Rachel lying on bed
on the floor in one corner shall never
forget that vision of earthly want and
suffering, of sanity trust and resigna-
ton; that miserable tattered bed that
pinched and wrinkled face, those calm,
appealing eyes.
l would Mt detain you to state the con-
versation. Suffice it to say. Aunt Rachel
had had no supper. no dinner, no break
fast, that day. 1t was a bitter evening in
February She had nothing but rheu-
matism and faith in God. It was bit
ter evening IN February. She had no
fuel, no fire, no light. She had nothing
but reumatism and faith in God. 1t was
not long, however, before fire was burn
ing in her rickety old stove, and lights
and food had been brought from the
Howard Mission, not far away. A ply
stefan had been sent for and a lady from
the mission had made Aunt Rachel cup
of tea and plate of toast, and was min
istering to the poor old helpless child of
the Savior with that sweet Christian SYM
pathy and being ant winsomeness, which
only God elect seem to have the gift of
showing. From that time my visits to
Aunt Rachel were not unfrequent She
was removed to more comfortable quar-
tiers IL James Street [ loved the dear
old saint from the start. [ don't know
whether my visits ever did her any good;
but they did me great deal OF good.
Aunt Rachel was fond of telling about
her plantation life, and so | learned her
story by heart. She had lived in Virgil
nia-she could not tell exactly where
but it must have been within fifteen or
twenty miles of Suffolk, because when
Gen. Peck was in command of our forces
down there, in 1868, she had walked from
her masters plantation to the Union
lines in one afternoon. She never would
tell her masters name. She seemed TO
have some queer notion that if she did,
some terrible calamity would come upon
her. She used to say: "Ole master was
berry good, and so was ole mistress but
de young folks was jes' like debils.'' She
said: My family was al'us sot by ole
marsteS, cause they were kind of 'nected
by ties of blood Laughter) She used
to say: "You's no idee, honey, how blood
gets mixed up down dar, nor how fast
black folks get white, or white folks get
black; | dunno which, and faint none O
my business-de Lord S own will be done
But the time came, she said. when ole
master could not help them any more.
"A nevvy of ole master come to our
home one day. who'd done gone and
run'd away from his parents house,
case his fadder wanted HIM to marry a
one legged gal down on the coast, that
owned a power of niggers, (six hundred
of em as was said, the young man said
as how he d sooner marry gal with two
legs and no niggers at Aide which |
must Say was sensible. ''Dis nevvy, as
she used to say, not disputin' wild my ED
est boy, de which his name is Jim; and
my boy being, high spirited he talked
back. At last the nevvy slaps jim at
which Jim jest knocks the nevvy clean
down the steps. Honey chile, you can
hab no idee what awful time that made
De white folks can knock the black folks
brains out, and nobody's scarf; but
when black man touches a white man,
it pears as how the world was comm to
end. The people was gwine to burn
Jim alive; an to save his life, old mars
ter sold him to trader to 90 to de Gulf,
de which he'd sooner died than gone
down dar. | got down on my knees and
begged old marster not to send my boy
70 dat awful place; but twas no use,
honey.
And so, de night before Jim was to be
tookened away, he broke loose and run d
away. An dey hunded him with de
houns, and com d up wild him in de woods
and dere he fout IN till he was shot down
dead by ole marsters ncvvy, as he'd
knocked down de steps. An they left
his body lyin in de woods for the beasts
to devour. An when begged ole mars
ter to let me 60 and get my boys dead
corpse, he said. ''If you don't hush up
I will sell you and your other son to the
Gulf. An | did hush up my voice but
[ cried out in my heart, D, my Saviour,
mist desc t'jnpS he 2
My udder son, de which his name
was Reuben, was den jes' bout ninteen
years old. An he came to me in de
night, and said mudder | Sc gwine to run
away. [ shall kill somebody if [ stay
here
And | said to him, Coz an he went
an | lay down with my face to de grass
an prayed all night dat my boy might
get beyond the bloodhouns afore de NOR
min light. An he did, Dress de Lord for
his goodness, he did. In de mornin',
when dey missed him, de nevyy an de
rest OBJ de young folks was wild to go for
hun. An old marster purtended to be
awful mad. But he wauld hab de horses
shoed atore he'd start. An so Reuben
got such a good start as dat dey never
coched him; by which | knowed as how
my prayers was answered.
ut pears to me as twas bout wear
arter that time dat the war broke out.
Oh you can image what time dat was
1t jus 'peared as eff de Day oh Judg-
ment was coming right top oh US. De
chariot, de chariot. its wheels rolled in
fire., ~ Old marSterS houSa uoS burnt To