Why were slaves beaten
Some slaves were beaten just because their owner wanted to beat them. Another reason is if you did not do your job right or were slacking off or if a slave was disobeying their master. Slaves where beaten with many things. They where beaten with whips and then the cuts from the whips where then covered with salt to make a terrible sting. Slaves where kicked and beaten as well as whacked with bamboo across the face. Slaves where often beaten with clubs and some times even knocked out.
They where beaten with whips and whacked with bamboo. When they where whipped they where often also covered in salt to make it sting. They where also kicked and beaten and stones where thrown at them. Slaves were yelled at and often beaten. Some were even killed.
Whips and leather straps. They were beaten and whipped. They were beaten with: Whips, Canes. People were beaten because the people that beat them were racest. Yes,they were beaten if they did not work.
Sure, a majority but definitely not all. The way that slaves were killed was they were beaten to death and shot for doing something bad. By the time he made it to a Union encampment in Baton Rouge in March , Peter had been through hell. Bloodhounds had chased him. He had been pursued for miles, had run barefoot through creeks and across fields. He had survived, if barely. But his day ordeal was nothing compared to what he had already been through.
And when he joined the Union Army after his escape from slavery, Peter exposed his scars during a medical examination. Raised welts and strafe marks crisscrossed his back. The marks extended from his buttocks to his shoulders, calling to mind the viciousness and power with which he had been beaten. It was a hideous constellation of scars: visual proof of the brutality of slavery.
And for thousands of white people, it was a shocking image that helped fuel the fires of abolition during the Civil War. He rose to his feet, and on my refusing to go without an explanation, seized a chair, struck me, and felled me to the floor. I rose, bewildered, almost dead with pain, crept to my room, dressed my bruised arms and back as best I could, and then lay down, but not to sleep. No, I could not sleep, for I was suffering mental as well as bodily torture. My spirit rebelled against the unjustness that had been inflicted upon me, and though I tried to smother my anger and to forgive those who had been so cruel to me, it was impossible.
It seems that Mr. Bingham had pledged himself to Mrs. Burwell to subdue what he called my "stubborn pride. At the end of about a month my master, one morning, came into the kitchen; he had a rope and a cow-hide whip in his hands. But all in vain. He produced a revolver, and said, "Look here, if you attempt to run away, I will shoot you as sure as you are alive.
Strip instantly. I could not cry any more. The slaves who were watching me told me afterwards that I had received Lashes. He untied me, I could scarcely walk. For one cent he swore he would shoot me. He threatened, if ever I attempted to do so again, he would certainly do for me. I crawled into the kitchen. I thought I should die. In the evening my mistress came into the kitchen, and said, "Francis, you have had a very severe flogging. I could not prevent it. I hope you will never attempt to run away again.
I thought your master would have killed you she had been watching the flogging from a window ; you must not be sullen or sulky to him in any way, or he will flog you again. I shall send you something into the kitchen to rub your back with," and after some more advice and cautions she went away.
Having reached Mr. Gooch's, he proceeded to punish me. This he did by first tying my wrists together, and placing them over the knees ; he then put a stick through, under my knees and over my arms, and having thus secured my arms, he proceeded to flog me, and gave me five hundred lashes on my bare back. This may appear incredible, but the marks which they left at present remain on my body, a standing testimony to the truth of this statement of his severity.
He then chained me down in a log-pen with a 40 lb. In the morning after his breakfast he came to me, and without giving me any breakfast, tied me to a large heavy barrow, which is usually drawn by a horse, and made me drag it to the cotton field for the horse to use in the field.
Thus, the reader will see, that it was of no possible use to my master to make me drag it to the field, and not through it; his cruelty went so far as actually to make me the slave of his horse, and thus to degrade me. The day for the execution of the penalty was appointed. The Negroes from the neighbouring plantations were summoned to witness the scene. A powerful blacksmith named Hewes laid on the stripes. Fifty were given, during which the cries of my father might be heard a mile away, and then a pause ensured.
True, he had struck a white man, but as valuable property he must not be damaged. Judicious men felt his pulse. Again and again the throng fell on his lacerated back.
His cries grew fainter and fainter, till a feeble groan was the only response to the final blows. His head was then thrust against the post, and his right ear fastened to it with a tack; a swift pass of a knife, and the bleeding member was left sticking to the place.
Then came a hurrah from the degraded crowd, and the exclamation, "That's what he's got for striking a white man. Previous to this affair, my father, from all I can learn, had been a good-humoured and light-hearted man. His banjo was the life of the farm. But from this hour he became utterly changed. Sullen, morose, and dogged, nothing could be done with him.
Initially, the book was ascribed to Lydia Maria Child a white abolitionist. It was only 30 years ago when research showed that the book was written by a woman slave. This book provides insight and depth into the sexual exploitation of black women during slavery.
Harriet Jacobs noted the brutalisation of black girls and women by white slave-masters, who justified their cruelty by viewing black women as sexual savages. As a result, black women suffered a double burden of slavery because of this sexual vulnerability. In the fictionalised novel based on a character called Linda Brent, the main character explains that her slave master was a physician named Dr Flint who subjected her to sexual and physical abuse.
Jacobs also goes into detail about the violence of North Carolina slave owners. This meant that Indians and blacks could not defend themselves against forms of abuse by white males. If a black woman accused her master of rape, she was subjected to more beatings by the master or the madam.
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