In the
manner we have described, this ferocious creature had kept his
victim for more than two hours, beating him with the knotty hoops
taken from lime-casks. His rage would move at intervals, like gusts
of wind during a gale. Thus, while his feelings raged highest, he
would vent them upon the flesh of the poor pinioned wretch; then he
would stop, rest his arm, and pace the ground from wall to wall, and
as soon as his passion stormed, commence again and strike the blows
with all his power, at the same time keeping the black boy standing
with a bucket of water in his hand ready to pour upon the wretch
whenever signs of fainting appeared. Several times, when the copious
shower came over him, it filled his mouth, so that his cries
resounded with a gurgling, death-like noise, that made every
sensation chill to hear it. During this space of time, he inflicted
more than three hundred blows. Our information is from the man who
did his master's bidding--poured the water--and dared not say, "Good
massa, spare poor Jacob." We visited the place about a month
afterward, on a pretext of examining the basement of the building,
and saw the unmistakable evidences of civilized torture yet
remaining in the ground and upon the shavings that were scattered
around.
"Captain, you must not judge the institution of slavery by what you
saw there; that is only one of those isolated cases so injurious in
themselves, but for which the general character of the institution
should not be held answerable," said the colonel.
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