I hope this letter finds you well; if it finds you at all. I do not know where I am, I do not know where to go, and I do not know when I will be back. I am somewhere in America, working away in the fields under the scorching eyes of the sun and the overseer. How I got here, I do not fully understand. It is the year of seventeen hundred and eighty-nine. Previously, I was thought esteemed in my African village of Angola, as you well know. I had wealth and political power surrounding me. All that was missing, was love, as my husband had contracted a deadly disease and passed away. One day, large groups of strange white men invaded my humble African village. At first, my neighbors and I were hospitable, offering what we thought were friendly visitors, …show more content…
All around I saw other captured Africans, both dead and alive. There were multiple shelves, on which the slaves were stored, like food sacks instead of human beings. I estimate that us slaves were given about 16ft by 18 ft for us women, and a height of only about 3 feet. I was dragged and chained to the wall by my legs but my hands were uncuffed, revealing the rubs and sores that had formed around my sorry wrists. Soon enough, other women and children were stuffed next to me. I do not know where the men went, to another compartment I suppose. Hours later, the white men finished stuffing us into inhumane spaces, and left, pulling shut the door behind them, trapping us in to deal with the intoxicating fumes and our uncertain fate. I tried to communicate with the others, but they all seemed in such a dejected spirit, and those whom I did manage a response from, did not speak my native tongue. My fear climbed and climbed, I feared my heart would burst out of my …show more content…
Still in the heavy chains, they whipped the horrid cat-o-nine-tails at us, forcing us to jump or face the claws of the cat. This strange ordering continued for over an hour, and by the end, my whole body was so sore I could barely stand up, and my scabs were opened again, allowing fresh blood to flow out. After this, the sailors gave us horse beans for our second meal. How terrible they were! They were dried out and hard as rocks, hurting my teeth. I slowly started to see my slim optimism slipping away like my food supply. It was the first night that I had gone to sleep, not knowing if I would wake
They were examined by surgeons and those who passed the examination were marked with a hot iron burn which distinguished where they would be sent. This shows how Africans were treated more similar to animals than human beings.
Slavery has always been the most shocking phenomena of our world. Slavery, by itself seems very unnatural and provokes mixed feelings from the heart of each person. Some faced “slavery” even in the contemporary times. And some people just simply do not understand the possibility of one human being considering another human being its Slave. Slavery is the practice or system of owning Slaves. Nevertheless, there is still much to say about it and a lot of things to recall.Some of the big central ideas that I have found so far in my research are some of the ways Slaves were tortured, why was this portrayed, and what really led to this. Important insights that I have derived from my research topic include Slaves who helped other Slaves become free
The abuse that was inflicted upon African American slaves can be considered cruel, dehumanizing, intimidating, and scarring. These slaves were considered more property than human and were brutally, sometimes excessively punished for varying reasons. Not only were the slaves well marked with varying scars across their bodies, but they were also mentally altered, or psychologically damaged, by this unusual system of punishment and life. The psychological effects of torture on these slaves, although completely different from the physical ones, were also very traumatizing.
Slaves were considered property, not as human beings, and were bought and sold as commodities. They were often listed in sales along with corn and land (document 5) and were leased and sold openly from slave dealer’s places of business where human beings were kept in a “slave pen” prior to sale. Inhumane punishment, such as severe and cruel whippings were inflicted on slaves for any minor infraction, often in public view. (document 2) The harshness of these beatings
The first experience displayed was being shackled. It was described that “the men negroes, are immediately fastened together, two by two, by hand-cuffs on their wrist, and by irons riveted on their legs. They are then sent down between the decks, and placed in an apartment partitioned off for that purpose.” (Document C) They were forced and confined under
To really show the horrendous conditions that the slaves endured, the author includes a 1787 replication drawing of the slave ship Brooks. Built in 1781 with a lower deck intended to accommodate 294 slaves, giving each slave a space comparable to the size of a coffin. Adult males were allocated a space six feet long and fifteen inches wide and allowing even less space for adult women, boys, and girls. The height of the same area was just five feet, and did not include any toilet facilities for the slaves. In most cases, the captains would load double the number of slaves their ships were designed for leading to even worse conditions onboard with more mouths to feed but not enough provisions to compensate. Those slaves who died during the journey through the Middle Passage were simply thrown overboard, where their bodies were eaten by ravenous sharks.
The night drew closer around the individuals who, some in dreams, some in panic, seemed to react to impending danger and turned, some to nightmares, some to an eerie calm, as those on death row that accepted their demise for what it was, an abrupt shattering of their existence. Be that as it may, however, some did not wish to go so simply. While some wished for a calm ending, but embraced nevertheless a less subtle end, that of fire and mutilation, others feared it for what it was, or what it could be. Some feared being lost, trapped in a dungeon of previously sound architecture, to watch the edges of their vision turn to the blackness of
After reading Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave, it is clear to see the true horrors behind the entirety of slavery. It is one thing to learn about it from a textbook or to sit through a lecture, but it is a completely different experience to get an account of how grossly inhumane, frightening, and appalling slavery really was from someone who experienced the terrors first-hand. Reading this narrative provided extremely descriptive details of how slaves truly were treated. Douglass recounted the time where he had often:
From the moment of capture, African men, women and children endured a relentless chain of pain and abuse. Life onboard the slave ships became a constant battle for survival, as the gruesome conditions below the deck presented formidable physical health problems. Burnside describes the African slaves descent into hell:
“I joined the army. I got to England, and I was scared. I felt inferior to the white man. I’d been led to believe the white race was a super race, and I guess I kind of believed it. But in Normandy, France, I held lots of guys who were dying. I heard them scream, and I saw their guts spill out. I found
This collage we have created by how slaves were treated in the book “Narrative of the life of Fredrick Douglass, an American Slave.” We had determined and imagined how slaves were treated from the explanation of the book. Slaves were abused different ways that no other humans could resist. They were physically abused, sexually abused, emotional abused, starved, and got a little cloth even in the winter.
The texts we have read in class portray many different kinds of forms of imprisonment, and the conditions experienced by the various authors and characters vary immensely. I was particularly intrigued in how the texts showed how men and women were treated differently under the institution of slavery. I chose to focus on two texts: Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl and Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass.
Africans battled and treated like bovines and puppies in the midst of the convergence. On the slave ships, people were full stretching out over a boat. The glow was as often as possible shocking, and the air verging on unbreathable. Women were every now and again used sexually. Men were oftentimes attached in sets, shackled wrist to wrist or lower leg to lower leg. People were put assembled, typically constrained to lie on their backs with their heads between the legs of others. This inferred they every now and again expected to lie in each other's crap, pee , and, because of detachment of the guts, even blood.
Scuttling innocently through the twisting corridors I bore the same expression; head down, shoulders hunched, avoiding any eye contact - my desperate attempts to deter the despot for one day at least. Despite my efforts, there was no escape, as seemingly within the second of having that naively optimistic thought, a cruel, callous voice demanded I surrender my broach. Fear spiked, as it always did, but with it came something else, an alien emotion ... Looking back now, I see that it must have been the cumulative effect of months of torment that brought me to the realisation that at this point I had reached the nadir of my life. Deriding cackles pierced my ears and this time I recognised the emotion, fury. It burned through my veins, along with the memories of the past to form a feeling of overwhelming power. I met the daggers that would usually invoke terror, and calmly, I said “No.”
This place was terrible. They took our clothes away, forced hundreds of us into tightly packed rooms, literally stacked on top of one another like a can of sardines. I was missing you all so much and needed you at the time for comfort. I could not stand it anymore as we rocked back and forth, weeping and angry. As I was bleeding terribly, I forced myself to unlock my hands from the chain. At that point I didn’t care how much pain I was in, all I wanted to do was escape. When I finally did escape and free the others, this raging power came upon me to takeover the ship. The others and I killed all but two of the Spanish on the ship. It felt good to let out all the anger that was built up inside of me and I felt accomplished and powerful.