When Mr. Wood heard of my marriage, he flew into a great rage, and sent for Daniel, who was helping to build a house for his old mistress.  Mr. Wood asked him who gave him a right to marry a slave of his?  My husband said, “Sir, I am a free man, and thought I had a right to choose a wife; but if I had known Molly was not allowed to have a husband, I should not have asked her to marry me.”  Mrs. Wood was more vexed about my marriage than her husband.  She could not forgive me for getting married, but stirred up Mr. Wood to flog me dreadfully with the horsewhip.  I thought it very hard to be whipped at my time of life for getting a husband—­I told her so.  She said that she would not have nigger men about the yards and premises, or allow a nigger man’s clothes to be washed in the same tub where hers were washed.  She was fearful, I think, that I should lose her time, in order to wash and do things for my husband:  but I had then no time to wash for myself; I was obliged to put out my own clothes, though I was always at the wash-tub.

I had not much happiness in my marriage, owing to my being a slave.  It made my husband sad to see me so ill-treated.  Mrs. Wood was always abusing me about him.  She did not lick me herself, but she got her husband to do it for her, whilst she fretted the flesh off my bones.  Yet for all this she would not sell me.  She sold five slaves whilst I was with her; but though she was always finding fault with me, she would not part with me.  However, Mr. Wood afterwards allowed Daniel to have a place to live in our yard, which we were very thankful for.

After this, I fell ill again with the rheumatism, and was sick a long time; but whether sick or well, I had my work to do.  About this time I asked my master and mistress to let me buy my own freedom.  With the help of Mr. Burchell, I could have found the means to pay Mr. Wood; for it was agreed that I should afterwards, serve Mr. Burchell a while, for the cash he was to advance for me.  I was earnest in the request to my owners; but their hearts were hard—­too hard to consent.  Mrs. Wood was very angry—­she grew quite outrageous—­she called me a black devil, and asked me who had put freedom into my head.  “To be free is very sweet,” I said:  but she took good care to keep me a slave.  I saw her change colour, and I left the room.

About this time my master and mistress were going to England to put their son to school, and bring their daughters home; and they took me with them to take care of the child.  I was willing to come to England:  I thought that by going there I should probably get cured of my rheumatism, and should return with my master and mistress, quite well, to my husband.  My husband was willing for me to come away, for he had heard that my master would free me,—­and I also hoped this might prove true; but it was all a false report.

The steward of the ship was very kind to me.  He and my husband were in the same class in the Moravian Church.  I was thankful that he was so friendly, for my mistress was not kind to me on the passage; and she told me, when she was angry, that she did not intend to treat me any better in England than in the West Indies—­that I need not expect it.  And she was as good as her word.