The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1900-09-25
CHAINED HIS SLAVES
Horrors of Jack Anderson's
Private Prison In Kentucky.
VAS CRUELEST OF MEN
HE MAY HAVE BEEN PRoTo-
TYPE OF LEGREE.

Paris, KY. Aug. 22@There is little
village not many miles back of Mays
Vile. KY, in which fully three-quar-
tiers of a century ago the loungers con-
gregated daily about the corner store,
sat on the empty store boxes. cheWed
tobacco. whitfield and discussed with
the wisdom of sluggish minds the al
fairs, civic, political. ethical, phiiosoph-
| ical and spiritual, of the known worad'
and there We're men in that coterie
who in their own opinion at least,
could have administered the functions
of European governments with greater
| wisdom than any crowned mead OF
| them all. AS for the plain, simple gov
| eminent of coalition OF states, why,
there were embryo Washingtons, Gays,
1 JemerSOnS and CalhOunS plentiIul as
/ watermelons occupying the splint-bot-
\ tom chairs tilted against the SHADY size
/ Of the corner store or lOungIng upon
/ the store boxes or hitching rails IN
i front
| Precisely the same condition OF af-
/ fairs exists to this day. Sixty or more
/ years ago the town had 200 inhabitants.
/ Six decades have drifted by-every-
\ thing drifts, never floats or runs with
| the stream of advancement in that
1 Northumberland the village is the
same today. Its people are OF the
| same character; they dream and whit
| tie, talk politics. are reminiscent as
| their predecessors. Store boxes, hitch
ing posts and feeding trOughS have
] been renewed from time to time and
/ from time TO time have been whitfield
/ into Oblivion by the descendants of the
! early settlers, the only change in sixty
/ years being the addition of less than
/ 100 souls TO the population and the alb
! sence of negro slaves. The latter fact
may have proved a hardship to the
Y small-exceedingl small-farmerS of
/ that region, but if so it is not -appre-
( the eX-owners. If a fence tumbleS
/ down, it comes in handy for firewOOd;
] if a house leaks, the owner Sagely takes
/ wisdom of the gentleman of Arkansas;
/ but the same OId-time dignity and
/ pride of office and title, civic and mill
| tary, still exists; the old magistrate
who holds an occasional court in the
rear of a shoe shop is addressed as
| 'Squiah,' the constable as Mr.. Con-
stable" while the road supervisor gets
preference by title and not by name
The Private Prison.
1t was from one of the former. an
| ex-magistrate of fifty years agone,
/ that the story of old Jack Anderson
! comes. During an afternoon spent in
4 this little village of somnolence the
writer met Squire Barton. an Old
white-headed gentleman of the old
| school, and was attracted by his sim
/ pie and courteous manner. We talked
| about the great strides of Improvement
/ about the recent wars and the political
! status of affairs, European and Ameri-
+ can; but it was soon plainly evident
| that the squire of the present and fu-
| ture were but reminders of the dead
! past, and in order to give the old gen
/ tleman an opportunity to follow &he
| bent of his mind, the writer said:
! This was a slave-owning section be-
| fore the war, was 1T not, squire?''
| Yes, sub, II was. Nearly everybody
of any consequence owned niggahs be-
TO the warm fis
How were the slaves really treated
in those days--as human beings or as
I animals or brutes?"
Thank God, sub, our people were
gentlemen and gentlewomen, and with
! the exception of old Jack Anderson
| never saw or heard of anybody who
| maltreated their slaves; but Anderson
! who lived about six miles from this
place on a large plantation, was the
| most inhuman brute I ever knew and
/ I've always thought that when Harriet
! Beecher Stowe wrote her Uncle Toms
Cabin she must have had in mind old
| Jack Anderson for her Legree.''
1 Il would like to hear something
about him if you care to tell it,
Why should I not, sub? 1 am a
southern man, sub, as you doubtless
perceive, and L know Kentucky from
the Big Sandy to Fulton and from the
Ohio to the Cumberland mountains.
and never knew or heard in all that
/ broad scope of such a fiend- [ don't
suppose that a negro trader or driver
ever had a soul, and old Jack Ander-
son was worse than either. Nobody re-
sDected him and everybody despised
| him. If there's his equal in hell, subj
your pardon, Suhl-Whenever I think
of that man lose my presence of mind
and my religion, said the old gentle
man in apology.
But to tell the story continued
he, 80 that you can fully understand
Z what sort of a f1end Anderson was,
and if YOU have the time and inclina-
ton 1 will take you out to his old
plantation. There you can see the sur
roundings. the old house and the Jail
in which he confined his slaves, and
the broad fields in which they labored
in chains and under the lash from be-
fore daybreak until dark every day of
their unfortunate lives.
He Knew the Tyrant.
A few minutes later the old squire
and the writer were flying over a
beautiful road behind a Kentucky
thoroughbred. AS we were descend
ing hill we overlook an old colored
man who was hobbling along with the
aid of long hickory pole which he
grasped about the middle, and as we
drew near I saw that the negro was
very old. His kinky locks were white
as snow, resembling a snow white
messy wreath about a bald pate, while
his face was wrinkled and crinkled by
time, but his eyes were still bright and
clear.
Good mawnin', Elim," said the
squire as we rode up.
Wy, gracious massy, eff dat ain ole
Squiah Bahton. Mawnin', squiah,
mighty nice boss yoh got dab, SqUiah-
Good as Their is in the county.
Elm" said the old gentleman, proud
". Who is running the old Anderson
place now2"
Boss Jim Walton, sab. Mighty fine
man ter know muffin bout bosses. Cum
FUN N Yo'k, dey say. Funny how dey
folks way off dar so tur' bic ign'nt bout
bosses. Gwine ober dab. squiah?"
Yes, going to show this gentleman
the old Anderson place, and tell him
about the old devil who used to live
there"
Member him mighty Well Wust
man, l speek, dat cher draw'd e bret
oh life, sab. Da's blood on de ole
fio's VII, an dey Go say dat ole jai
ha'nted by dat cold gal"
We bade the old negro good-by q
minute or two later, passed drought q
great gate and drove down an avenUe