Mr. Burmey’s two sons, Peter and John, were the ringleaders in this execution, and the pair of them hardly ever saw a sober day from one month to another; and at the execution of Dan, Peter was so drunk that he came nigh sharing the same fate.  It was not a year after the roasting of Dan that the two brothers were thrashing wheat in the barn, which stood about a quarter of a mile from the house, and being in March, and an uncommon windy day, they had taken their demijohn full of brandy in order to keep the cold out of their bones, as it was their belief that a dram or two had that effect; so they were drinking and thrashing and drinking again until they reeled over dead drunk upon the floor.  That same night the barn took fire over them.  The first thing that excited the alarm of my master’s negroes on Tillotson’s plantation was a black smoke issuing from the barn.  Suddenly there was a rush from all parts of the plantation, but it was all to no purpose, for scarcely had we got half way before we saw the flames bursting out on every side of the barn, still we continued to run as fast as we could.  When we arrived we found the barn door shut and fastened inside.  This Mr. Peter and Mr. John had done to keep out the wind which was very high.  When old Mr. Burmey arrived with his daughter-in-law, Peter’s wife, the first thing demanded was, where is your masters?—­oh, my children! my children! while Mrs. Peter screamed, my husband! my husband! oh, pa! oh, pa!  The strength of the flames inside at length burst open the barn door, when we beheld through the red flames the figures of the two wretched brothers lying side by side dead drunk and helpless upon the floor.  The fire rapidly seized upon everything around.  At this moment Mrs. Peter Burmey rushed into the flames to save her husband, but just as she attempted to enter, the beam over the door fell in upon her head, and struck her back senseless and suffocated to the ground; but, notwithstanding the most intense hatred to Burmey and his family, we negroes rushed forward to rescue them—­but all in vain.  After getting miserably scorched we were compelled to retreat and give them over, and with bleeding hearts to behold the fire consume their bodies.  The barn was rapidly consigned to ashes, which being speedily swept away by the violence of the wind, left the victims side by side crisped skeletons on the ground.  This was the dreadful end of the two chief actors in the roasting of poor Dan.

When I arrived at the age of 20, my master told me I must marry Jane, one of the slaves.  We had been about five months married when she gave birth to a child, I then asked who was the father of the child, and she said the master, and I had every reason to believe her, as the child was nearly white, had blue eyes and veins, yet notwithstanding this we lived happily together, and I felt happy and comfortable, and I should never have thought of running away if she had not been sold.  We lived together six