Excerpt from Leonard Black’s memoir
“Mrs. Bradford ordered me one day to take a bushel of corn up stairs; but I was unable to do it, upon which she knocked me down with the johnny-cake board, cutting my head so badly that it bled more than a quart. It was then that I thought of my mother. My little friends—who have your liberty and the protecting hand of parents—these are some of the fruits of slavery; let your hearts warm with gratitude to the great Giver of all good, for the blessings you enjoy. Mrs. Bradford had a son about ten years old; she used to make him beat me and spit in my face. Here I was, a poor slave boy, without father or mother to take my part.
“At the end of two years, Mrs. Bradford beat me so much, that her husband, fearing she would kill me, placed me at his father’s, where I remained until the death of the old gentleman.”