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| Slave Tells Secrets of Revere by Judi L. |
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April 13, 1775
Today I walked to the Green Dragon Tavern, on King Street, to purchase
some rum. I kept on stumbling over the uneven cobblestone streets. My
master would be mad at me for being late to make dinner. At my pace, I
was sure to be late, I thought to myself. I really dislike calling him
master. It makes me feel like a dog. Dogs call ye owners master, why
should I? Why should I call that horrid man master? I think this to
myself quite often, I really need to let the matter go.
As I walked into the tavern, my eyes skimmed over the crowd
of Patriots, I spotted some familiar faces. Mr. Revere was talking to a
group of Sons of Liberty. I knew most of them, considering that Master
had meetings at his home while I served the men drinks. The Master’s
home was large enough to hold meetings and I could listen into
conversations unnoticed. After I obtained the amount of rum needed, I
headed to the entryway. Just as I reached the door I heard Mr. Revere
say, “One ... by land...... if by sea.” I could hardly hear the words
and the only reason I heard it was because I walked past their table on
the way out. But I was in such a hurry to get back that I didn’t ponder
his words for more than a moment.
When I strolled in the front door I put the rum in the cupboard and
started cooking over the open fire. Just as I was setting the
table Matthew, or Master Taylor, as I must call him, walked
into the room. With him a small, fragile young lady followed, eyes
staring at the floor.
I felt sorry for the new servant. Her freedom had been taken away and
sold like an animal. I knew how she felt. I too knew the feeling of yea
hopes flying out and away. When I first came to live with the Taylors,
I felt like I was less than scum. I knew I had to befriend her, for her
sake. I knew I could make a difference in her life and make her feel
better. So I tried to find out everything I could about her.
She told me her name was Mariana. She was ‘sold like a piece of meat,’
as she put it, for 50 pounds at the local market. She also informed me
that she was to be baptized to a Christian tomorrow.
As I am writing this now, I feel like I can forget about what is
happening in the white man’s country. Forget about the little boy that
died, and forget about the men that died in the Boston Massacre. Those
things are just melting out of my mind. Hopefully they will stay out.
Celia
April 19th 1775
Today's tasks were a bit different then most days. Today I was
lent to someone. Mariana and I were lent to a man named Deacon
John Larkin. Early in the morning I woke up at about the crack of dawn
as I always do, it was then he told me I was to work for a ‘Dear friend
of his in Charleston.’
But what really enraged me was, he couldn’t even wait for me to wake
up!! I was just crawling out of bed when the Master opened up the barn
door, climbed up the ladder and ordered me to get ready. What if I was
naked?! Common Field slaves have more privacy than I.
I went to Charleston without a word. At least the man was nice and
treated us like humans instead of dogs. It was apparent that he also
took care of Brown Beauty, the horse we were to tack and ready, as
well. I was thinking to myself as I tacked the horse, if more people
were like this man then less people would argue about the Lobsterbacks
and us. Maybe even the blanket of uneasiness would lift up from the
town.
When we finished tacking the horse and feeding her, Mariana and I told
stories about ourselves whilst we brush the horse. The horses coat was
shining as brightly as a thousand candles by the time we were done. I
was just in the middle of telling her of the time when I had the flu,
and to tried to rid myself of it by being leached when Mr. Revere
strolled into the stable. I could feel the ambition coming off of
him like hot vapor. You could see the look in his brown eyes that told
you, I am on a mission. He was breathing hard and you could see the
beads of sweat coming off his face. The two men talked for a brief
second then Mr. Revere was off again, Brown Beauty's legs pumping under
her.
Celia
April 21st 1775
‘The Battle of Lexington Green.’ Those were the words that were
whispered throughout the day. ‘The Lobster backs shot first.’ ‘The
Patriots shot first.’ Loyalist and the Patriots bickered. Widows of
their fallen, minutemen, husbands wept above their white and clammy
spouses' face.
Poor Elizabeth, Master’s wife. She is constantly weeping, leaving
Mariana and I to fully care for the eight devil children. Master Taylor
was wounded on the field. A shot to the arm, a mere flesh wound. But
Elizabeth is carrying on like he’s dead. The Apothecary is tending to
his wound now.
I hear that 100 to 200 men went to fight. I think that is very noble of
them to fight for their rights. That's why the Master went to
fight. He felt like it was his duty to fight. What if he was
killed like the other near hundred men that died? I would be left to
fully care for the children and the weeping wife. But I hear that
almost 300 men died for the British!
Why must so many lives be lost? The people who died in Lexington, the
people who died in the Massacre on King Street, and the little child,
Christopher Snider. Those people should not have died. I know my
opinion does not matter in this country, but I think that the killings
should stop now, before it’s too late and we are too deep in war.
Well I must not keep Master Taylor’s veal and ale waiting any longer.
I’ve been cooking it whilst I write. I do hope he feels better soon.
Celia
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Historical References:
Boston African American
National Historic Site. 6 April 2006.
www.hps.gov/boaf/slaveryinboston.htm
Hakim, Joy. From
Colonies to Country. New York: Oxford University Press,
2003.
Introduction to
Colonial African American Life. 30 March 2006,
www.history.org/Almanac/people/africanaaintro.cfm
Keith Mogan. Townshend Acts.
25 April 2006.
www.alexandriancuntral.org/cove/townshed.org
Life of a Slave.
20 April 2006. www.louswebsite.com/37.html
Shoales, Gary Parker. Background
Information. http://
home.att.net/betsynewmark/Bostoninfo.html
Slavery in the North.
7 April 2006 www.slaverynorth.com/slaverynorth.html
The First African
American Colonial Life. Pages 32-35 (photo copy)
The Paul Revere House. 25
April 2006.
www.paulreverehouse.org/ride/real.shtml
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