The story of “Uncle Sandie,” given in the preceding Chapter, seemed to me one of the most remarkable exhibitions ever made public of the results which inhere, as possibilities, in the system of slavery. On a subsequent visit to Key West, Sandie was persuaded to repeat his account of his self-mutilation at length, and the following phonographic report of it was taken down from his lips. I have endeavored to preserve throughout his exact language.
It is only needful to add that Sandie is at once one of the wealthiest and one of the most respected citizens of Key West. He has contributed largely to the erection of a handsome church for the negro congregation, of which he is the leading spirit; and in the management of his private affairs, even the Rebel residents admit that he displays singular prudence and skill. Since the war, his remarkable history has attracted many visitors—among whom were some of our most distinguished naval officers—and brought him many attentions that might readily have turned the head of a less judicious person; but Sandie pursues his quiet way, modest as ever, and still industrious and money-making.
When the following report of his story was made, he appeared in the village in a faultless suit of broadcloth, with a well-brushed silk hat. But for his color, he might have been thought a superbly-developed prizefighter, transformed in some way into a quiet preacher. The production of the note-book startled him a little, but rubbing his head a moment, as if to recall the dates, and standing, hat in hand, under the cocoas, he began.
“I left Maryland on de 2d day of October, ’39. My wife went wid me. She was free, and we came to Florida. I got to work at Port Leon, on de railroad. Dere I worked nine yeahs to buy myself. I got six hundred dollahs, and de yeah’s findin’. Lily, my wife, got fifteen dollahs a month. My massa charged me thirty-three hundred and fifty dollahs for myself, which Lily had to see paid.
“She made herself a slave to go wid me. After we had paid de money, and got our papers—dat tuck us nine yeahs—and we had sumfin over, de town cotch fire and burnt my papers, and pretty smart money. All de money was burnt, ’cept a little silver and gold. Afterward, when dey found de papers was burnt, den they come upon us to sell us to New Orleans. Dey come one night after I’d been out fishin’.
“I was settin’ stripped off, washin’ my feet. Fifteen men rapped at de do. I said, ‘Cum in,’ and tole ’em to take a seat. Dey tole me a hog had been stole dat mornin’, and dat I had bought one, and dey wanted me to go up to de Squire’s, and tell him where I bought it. I sed I had thirty-nine head Buckshire hogs, and didn’t want no more hogs, so, of cose, I hadn’t got no more. Den dey axed me if I was against goin’ to see de Squar, and let him know I didn’t buy any. I tole him yes, I wasn’t against dat, and started in my shirt sleeves, and bare head, to go and see him.
“Wen we got to de street whar it turned off to de Squire’s, de fellows took me toward de jail. I tole ’em dat wasn’t the way to de Squire’s, and dey said de Squire would be at de Cou’t House, dat was near de jail.
“Den dey ax me ef I was aginst bein’ tied, and I tole ’em no. Den dey brought out a new Manilla, good tyin’ rope, and placed my hands behind me, tied my hands, and lashed my arms wid de slack, clean up to de arm-pits.” Den dey said, “Sandie, we got you fixed.”
I looked over my shoulder and said, ‘What you about with your rascally tricks?’ Dey sed, “We gwine to sell you to New Orleans; one-half goes to us, and one-half to your guardian.” Dey sed dey’d take me to jail, and de next mornin’ to de railroad, and would send me to New Orleans.
“Sez I, ‘I ain’t gwine,’ and I wouldn’t move for ’em. Den de man behind tuck a club and broke my head heah (showing a deep scar about three inches long, on the side of his head), and ax me again would I move. I wouldn’t, and another at my side struck me till he broke my head in another place (showing another scar under the wool). De blood run down my face, and I licked it in on each side wid my tongue.
“Den I gave an Injin yell, tell dey heerd me down at ——’s plantation, five miles off. Den I straightened up, and stooped down and broke de cord into five pieces. Den I cotch one man by de breast, and made an instrument ob him, and swung him around and beat de oders ober de head and breast wid his heels. I beat dem down on de ground, and frowed him hard ober de palins.
“Den I went back to de house and tole my wife. I tole her not be accited, but just mind me. I axed her for my box ob needles, wid de crooked needles and de lances. It was about nine o’clock wen I was in de contuct. Dis was about ten.
“After she got dem, I axed her for de stickin’ plaster, and she began to ’spicion, and sed I was mad. I tole her not, as she tought, not mad dat way. Den I put de needles and de stickin’ plaster into a box and went to bed. Lily she cried all night. Next mornin’ was Thursday. When I got up I call for her and for de box. We went togedder, and to de public squar; and I gave free yells, so dey cud be heard all ober town. Every body gathered around de squar. Wen de people was all standin’ roun’, but some little distance off, I tole ’em I didn’t want dis (putting his hand on his right leg), nor dis (left arm), nor dis (left leg), but did want dis (right arm).
“Den I libitly run my knife froo de heelstrings and cut em out; Den I stoop down on de wheel barrow, wid my needles, and seew it up, and stuck de stickin’ plaster on it.
“Den I tuck a knife and drove it into my right hip heah (showing over the hip joint a very ugly scar, nearly eight inches long), and dey sed I work de knife back and forward four times, but I don’t know zactly how many times. But I cut hole ten inches long, and four inches deep, till my leg hung useless.
“My wife Lily she freaded de needles; and den held de lookin’ glass, so I could see to make long stitches, and sew it up, and stick on de stickin’ plaster.
“Den I set down, and chopped my hand as hard as I cud wid de hatchet, and cut one finger clean off (holding up the left hand, with the shockingly mutilated fingers). Dat little finger I tuck up and put in my mouf, and smoked it for a cigar, till de blood from it run down my lips. Dat I sewed too, and den tole ’em if that wouldn’t do, I would cut open my belly, and pull out de entrals before ’em. But dat I wouldn’t go down to New Orleans for a slave agin, for I was free.
“Dey den tuck me—not de whites, dey not come near me, afeared, but de brack people—and wheel me home on de wheel-barrow, wid de utensils.
“I was down sick two months. After dat could go about on crutches.
“My ole massa was Wm. Eggleston, of Cambridge, Maryland. I waited on him. I never worked in de field, not I, till I was thirty year old. Wen he die, my young massa gave me my time for $83 a yeah. Dat was about $40 more dan common people paid. I couldn’t get along fast at dat in Maryland, but de Company (the Railroad Company) offered me $600 and findin’, if I’d cum to Florida, and work on de Railroad. Dat look to me big as de moon. Lily and me made nuff to buy ourselves in nine yeahs, and considerable beside.”