“Mr. Cobb will give the bearer 39 lashes on delivery.”  R.T.  Earle.

I then left the room and explanations took place.  When I was again called in.  “How came Dick to have had the letter,” and I then said I had forgot to deliver it until Dick wanted me to go to Baltimore in his place, and I agreed providing he would take the letter.  Master then said “you lie, you infernal villain,” and laid hold of a pair of tongs and said he would dash my brains out if I did not tell him the truth.  I then said I thought there was something in the note that boded no good to me, and I did not intend to give it to him.  He said, “you black vagabond, stay on this plantation three months longer, and you will be master and I the slave; no wonder you said you felt first rate when I asked you, but I will sell you to go to Georgia the first chance I get.”  Then laying the tongs down he opened the door and ordered me out.  I knew he had on heavy cow-hide boots, and I knew he would try to assist me in my outward progress, and though expecting it and went as quick as I could, I was materially assisted by a heavy kick from my master’s foot.  This did not end the matter, for when Dick found out I had caused his being flogged, we had continual fightings for several months.

When I was fourteen years old my master gave me a flogging, the marks of which will go with me to my grave, and this was for a crime of which I was completely innocent.  My master’s son had taken one of his pistols out, and by some accident it burst.  When enquiry was made about the damaged pistol William told his father that he had seen me have it; this, of course, I denied, when master tied me up by my thumbs and gave me 60 lashes, and also made me confess the crime before he would release me.  From this flogging my back was raw and sore for three months; the shirt that I wore was made of rough tow linen, and when at work in the fields it would so chafe the sores that they would break and run, and the hot sun over me would bake the shirt fast to my back, and for four weeks I wore that shirt, unable to pull it off, and when I did pull it off it brought with it much of my flesh, leaving my back perfectly raw.  Some time after this my master found out the truth about the pistol, and when I saw that he did not offer me any apology for the beating he had given me, and the lie he had made me confess, I went to him and said—­now, master, you see that you beat me unjustly about that pistol, and made me confess to a lie—­but all the consolation I got was—­clear out, you black rascal; I never struck a blow amiss in my life, except when I struck at you and happened to miss you; there are plenty of other crimes you have committed and did not let me catch you at them, so that flogging will do for the lot.