Always It Gave Me A Pang That

When I Was Nearly Twelve Years Old, My Kind Mistress Sickened And Died.

Every Where The Years Bring To All Enough Of Sin And Sorrow; But In Slavery The Very Dawn Of Life Is Darkened By These Shadows

Death Is Better Than Slavery.

The War Of My Life Had Begun; And Though One Of God's Most Powerless Creatures, I Resolved Never To Be Conquered.

I Was Ordered To Go For Flowers, That My Mistress's House Might Be Decorated For An Evening Party. I Spent The Day Gathering Flowers And Weaving Them Into Festoons, While The Dead Body Of My Father Was Lying Within A Mile Of Me. What Cared My Owners For That? He Was Merely A Piece Of Property. Moreover, They Thought He Had Spoiled His Children, By Teaching Them To Feel That They Were Human Beings. This Was Blasphemous Doctrine For A Slave To Teach; Presumptuous In Him, And Dangerous To The Masters.