Tobiah and Rachel
Captain Wooster's most important helps
in the management of his farm and tavern
were a colored man, named Tobiah, and his
wife Rachel.
At that time slavery was recognized and protected
by law in Connecticut. It was always of a comparatively
mild type, being free from most of those oppressive
features which in later years attached to the institution
in our southern states. The marriage of
slaves was legal; they might own property, and, if
they could, learn to read and write; indeed, most people
felt it to be their religious duty to see that their
negroes were so far instructed as to be able to read
the Bible. Though subject to chastisement for petty
offenses, they were protected by law, and by that public
sentiment which is more powerful than law, from
the inhumanities to which the system nearly always
gives rise. Indeed, the condition of a slave, except
what pertained to his social status, differed from that
of a free man chiefly in that his services were compulsory,
and without compensation.
Few slaves were, or ever had been, held in Waterbury. The
great
proportion of the early settlers,
says Bronson, were too poor to own that kind of
property. Luxuries of all kinds were beyond their
reach. They lived in the plainest manner, and did
their own work. Owing to a lack of tools, machinery,
roads, productive lands prepared for tillage, or, in
other words, capital, the surplus products of labor
were small. Comparatively, a man could do little
more than maintain himself. Hence the necessity
that all should work – young and old, male and female.
If the addition of a negro to a family increased
production, it also increased consumption, and, if a
support in infancy and old age is taken into the account,
almost in an equal ratio. Hence the inducement
with the early planters in Waterbury to own
slaves could not have been great, even could they have
found the means to purchase them.
The few slaves that were held in this town seem to
have belonged mostly to the clergymen. Rev. Messrs.
Southmayd, Leavenworth, and Scovill, of Waterbury
Center, and Rev. Mr. Trumbull, of Westbury, now
Watertown, owned two each – generally a man and
woman. One of these, named Dick, once owned by
Mr. Scovill, died in 1835, at the age of ninety. Some
half a dozen other persons are mentioned as holding
this species of property. In Derby, Rev. Daniel
Humphries had two slaves, named Cambridge and
Kate, his wife. Dr. Mansfield had several, and many
more were held by other men of the town. Indeed,
Derby having been a seaport, enjoying, before the
war, a considerable trade with the West Indies, had
imported numerous slaves from those islands, so that
there was comparatively a large colored population in
the town.
In some cases the slaves were Indians. In the earlier
periods of New England, the practice of reducing
the aborigines to bondage prevailed quite extensively
through all the colonies.
Nor were slaves procured from the colored races
alone. Not a few emigrants from England and Ireland,
who were too poor to pay their passage, were
sold, with their own consent, on their arrival, for a
limited time. In one of the newspapers at New
Haven, under date of 1764, is an advertisement of a
parcel of Irish servants, both men and women, to be
sold cheap. Thieves, vagrants, and all single
persons
who live an idle and riotous life, might, by order
of any court or a justice of the peace, be bound
out to service for a term of years, or for life. Our
fathers were inveterate foes to idleness, and the common
saying about birds they applied to men, He
that can work and won't work, must be made to
work.
At the time of the Revolution, the essential
wrongfulness
of slavery, except for the punishment of offenders,
began to be commonly acknowledged. The
discussions that were had, as to the inalienable rights
of all men, tended to set this matter in a clearer light
than had ever been attained before. Very many persons
voluntarily emancipated their slaves – some by
direct gift, some by will, enjoining it upon their heirs
to support comfortably such as should be unable to
take care of themselves. Indeed, prior to 1777, such
support was made compulsory by law on all who
should free their slaves. The following anecdote, related
in Dr. Stiles' History of Ancient Windsor, will
show in what estimation this provision of the law was
held by some, at least, of the colored people themselves;–
An aged and infirm Windsor slave, working in the
fields with his master, was observed to be very moody
and silent. At length he broke the silence by saying
that such a neighbor had given his slave his freedom,
and modestly suggested that, Massa ort to gib me
my freedom.
The master quietly replied,–
Well, Tom, you may have your freedom.
May I, massa? When?
Now, was the reply.
What! now, massa – right away?
exclaimed the
surprised slave.
Yes, Tom; you may stick up your fork where you
are, if you choose, and be free.
Tom stood looking upon the ground more moodily
than ever, while his master went on with his work.
After half an hour's consideration, Tom resumed his
labor, remarking, with a knowing look,–
No, massa; you hab de meat, now you may pick
de bone; me no go and take care old Tom myself.
In 1777, a law was passed authorizing the selectmen
of the towns, upon application of any master, to
grant liberty of emancipation, without such liability,
whenever they were satisfied that it was likely to be
consistent with his (the slave's) real advantage, and
that it was probable he would be able to support himself, Under
this provision, very many blacks were
emancipated to become soldiers in the army, the selectmen
gladly conferring the license, and assuming
the risk of the future dependency, for the sake of thus
completing the quota of the town, and saving the inhabitants
from draft. The surnames of Freeman, Freedom, Liberty,
etc., which abound in the
lists of the soldiers, show to what extent this form of
emancipation was practiced.
In 1784, the year after the war, an act went into
effect, declaring that no negro or mulatto child, born
in Connecticut subsequent to March 1 of that year,
should be held in servitude after he or she had attained
the age of twenty-five years. Other laws, from time
to time, still further restricted the institution, and
ameliorated the condition of those held under it, and
in 1848 it was abolished altogether.
Among the negroes that had been brought to Derby
from the West Indies was a man named Pero, belonging
to Deacon Riggs, who lived on the road, called
from him Riggs Street, leading from Derby to
Gunntown and Waterbury. Pero was supposed to be
a native African; indeed, be used to boast that he was
of royal blood.
My fader, said he was king in his own
country.
He had plenty of wives, and heap of soldiers.
My mammy she lived in a house in de bush; she had
nice mat and calabash, and was one great lady. But
one day, when my fader and his men was huntin',
white man come and burnt all de houses. Den dey
took my mammy and her two boys, – one younger
dan me, – and drove us away to de ship. It was a
bad time we had on de water. My poor little brother
died, and dey trow him in de sea. Mammy cry and
go crazy when dey takes him away from her, and
when we got to Jamaica, she die too. I's a picka-ninny
den, – little feller, – and I feel very bad to lose
my mammy. But de new tings I see made me forgit,
in little while. Dey sends me 'way to de sugar plantation,
where I fared very well. Massa was kind to
me, and I had little to do but lie in de sun, and suck
de sugar-cane.
But this lazy life of indulgence did not last long,
and he was soon made to feel what slavery is. I
know not how he came to be sold, but he had scarcely
arrived at manhood before he found himself removed
to Connecticut, under the comparatively mild ownership
and authority of the good Puritan Deacon Riggs.
In due time, by consent of his master, he took to himself,
as a wife, Hagar, a slave of Rev. Dr. Mansfield.
By her he had two sons, Tobiah and Laban, – both
noted persons in their day, – and perhaps other
children.
Tobiah had been purchased by Captain Wooster,
and was, at this time, his man of all work. He was
about thirty years old, of a mahogany rather than
sable complexion, and his face scarred by small-pox.
He was tall and muscular, lithe of limb and fleet of
foot, bearing the palm – of which he was not a little
proud – for running, leaping, and wrestling among
all the men of that region. He wore in winter an immense
fur cap, made of the skin of a wildcat, which
he had caught in a trap in the woods, the short tail
banging behind his head, and the grinning teeth fastened
in front as if about to spring upon its prey. His
brother Laban is remembered. also, as having worn a
somewhat similar cap, made of the skin of a loon, – a
large aquatic bird, sometimes caught in this latitude, – which
had been dressed with its feathers on, and
was so shaped as to resemble the living bird brooding
upon his head. Of these caps the brothers were
proud, both as trophies of their skill in hunting and
as specimens of their taste in the fine arts. A coarse
flannel frock, often mended with parti-colored patches
and bound about his waist with a rope's end, constituted
Tobiah's outer garment, which, if not as gay as
Joseph's coat of many colors, answered at least as
good a purpose for wear, without subjecting him
to the inconvenience, which the too fondly loved
son experienced, of being made the object of envy
from those less fortunate in their earthly possessions.
Captain Wooster was a great hunter, the extensive
mountainous region bordering upon the Naugatuck
Valley, and stretching off to Great Hill and the Housatonic,
furnishing a large variety of game. Wolves,
bears, wildcats, deer, and many smaller animals had
once abounded there. Indeed, he had enclosed a tract
of some hundred acres of land, running up on to the
hill west of his house as a deer park, within which be
claimed the exclusive right to keep and hunt the
animals. It is said that on one side of the enclosure
the boundary, for some distance, was a natural precipice,
from which the deer, when pursued by hunters
in the adjacent regions, would leap into the fold,
where they would be safe. The place, we believe, is
still called The Park.
Tobiah's venatorial instincts of course found much
to gratify them in this district, and few men caught
more foxes, and coons, and rabbits, and squirrels than
he. Equally congenial to him, likewise, were the
duties connected with the tavern, the care of horses,
waiting upon guests, and the like. He loved to hear
the news, to pick up the small gossip and stories in
circulation, and after his chores were done, to mingle
in the sports of the youngsters, – the leaping, and
running, and practical jokes, – in which he
rarely
came out second best. His imperturbable good humor,
his strength, and skill, and wit, made him a general
favorite, not only in the neighborhood, but among
travelers and others who sought the hospitalities of
the inn.
But Tobiah, like many another man more renowned
than be, found his destiny and the crown of his happiness
in the smiles of a woman. Rachel, Mrs. Wooster's
kitchen drudge, was the daughter of Peter Hull,
an aged negro, who had long been in the service of
the Woosters. Peter's wife was dead, and be had become
decrepit with years and toil. He lived in a small
hut under the hill, a short distance from the captain's,
which was reached by a lane crossing the brook, in the
rear of the tavern. Here Rachel, with filial affection,
cared for his comfort, nursed his rheumatism, and did
what she could to cheer his lonely days.
Rachel was as frolicsome as a kitten, and delighted
in playing off her pranks upon Tobiah. Indeed, it
might be said that it was by these she won his heart.
She would hide his cap or mittens when he was going
out; she would put chestnut burs into his bed; she
would throw her dish-cloth in his face, if he came
near her in the kitchen, or spill the salt in his cup of
cider, or drop an icicle down his neck, or snatch the
chair from behind him as he was about sitting down.
When he attempted to catch her for retaliation, she
would evade his grasp with the suppleness of an eel,
while her rippling laugh and merry crow of exultation
completed his discomfiture.
At last he could stand it no longer. He vowed he'd be
even with dat gal; so one day he asked her to
be his wife.
Yes, she cried, if you can catch me,
and
springing through the open door, darted up the lane
leading to her father's.
Tobiah was as nimble as she, and set forth after
her at his utmost speed. But Rachel had a minute's
start of him, and notwithstanding his longer stride,
she reached the cabin, and shut and fastened the door
behind her, before he could overtake her. The echo
of her laugh might have been heard half a mile as she
appeared at one of the windows, and cried out to
him,–
Oh, Toby! don't yer wish yer could? Got ter
run faster'n dat ter catch dis yer nigger! Thought
'twas an elemphant coming up de lane; oh, massy,!
and she went off again in a giggle which seemed to
threaten suffocation, and woke old Peter, who was
lying on a tattered bed in his bed-room.
Ho, chile! he cried; what's de matter wid
ye?
S'pects yer in mischief now. Who's dat yer a talkin'
to!
Rachel did not mind the inquiry, but continued her
frolic with her lover. He tried to open the door, but
finding it fastened, he appeared at the window where
she had defied him, and begged to be admitted to the
house. She refused, and called him all sorts of nicknames,
then raised the window an inch or two, and as
he put his hand underneath, suddenly brought it
down again to pinch his fingers. At last, wearied
with her fun, and perhaps with some tender relentings
at the vexation she was causing Tobiah, who
in her heart she really liked, she coyly unfastened the
door, and opened it a little way, taking care, however,
to brace herself behind it. But this was of little avail
to stay the impetuous Tobiah, who, with one strong
push, burst open the door, and caught her securely in
his arms.
It was a great day at the tavern when Tobiah and
Rachel were married. Peter, who had given his consent with
tears running down his happy old
face, had had a suit of new clothes given him by his
master in honor of the occasion. It had been proposed
to the bridegroom that the ceremony should be
performed by Captain Wooster himself, who was a
magistrate, and would do it for a less sum than Parson
Mansfield, if he came up from Derby for that purpose.
But Tobiah would not listen to this. He was
able to pay, he said, and he was going to be married
just like white folks. For slaves, as I have stated,
were allowed to have property, and Tobiah, in the
course of years, had laid up quite a little sum of his
own. So one Saturday he borrowed the captain's
mare, and rode down to the Landing to engage the
clergyman for that interesting service.
Wants yer to come up to Cap'n Wooster's next
Monday night, Massa parson, he said; gwine to be
a wedding dar.
A wedding, Toby?
Yes, massa; and here's de publis'ment and de
barns; Yo'll read 'em in de church to-morrow?
Oh, yes; I'll publish the banns; but who is it,
Toby?
Me, parson, and Rachel. Wants yer ter come
shuah. Bring yer book wid yer, and marry us just
as you do white folks. What d'ye ax, Massa Mansfield,
for marryin'?
Well, Tobiah, white folks usually give me about
six shillings, said the doctor, highly amused, – sometimes
more, – and if you are going to be
married
just as they are, it will be right that you pay the
same fee – won't it?
Yes, massa, dat's right; you come and marry
us just like white folks, and I'll gib you just de same
pay.
The "barns" were published according to law, and
on the appointed evening, the good parson presented
himself in Captain Wooster's kitchen for the performance
of his official duty. Her mistress had given
Rachel a white dress which had belonged to Miss
Ruth, and if there was any lack of diamonds, it was
fully compensated by the sparkle of the laughing
black eyes, which could not be sober even in a time
of so much importance as this. Tobiah was gorgeous
in crimson small-clothes and white stockings, while
his woolly head, powdered after the fashion of the
times, towered a foot above the red and yellow handkerchief
which did duty as a turban by his side.
The ceremonies were completed, the festivities of
the occasion were over, the clergyman was about
to depart. Tobiah had apparently forgotten the
promise which he made, when the latter jocosely
reminded him of it.
Come, Tobiah; you remember the bargain: I was
to marry you like white folks, and you was to pay me
like white folks
Yis, massa, sartin. But you habn't dun it.
Haven't done it, you rogue? What do you
mean?
I means, sar, just what I says. Yer no sing de
psalm, and yer no kiss de bride!
Amid the loud laugh which followed this speech, the
minister, somewhat disconcerted, replied,–
But, Tobiah, that's no part of the ceremony. You
are married just the same whether the bride is kissed
or not.
Don't know about dat, sar; yer don't think it's
'nuff when yer hab purty white gals to marry. Yer
said yer'd marry Rachel and me just de same way.
Argument was unavailing; the joke was too good to
be spoiled, and the continued merriment of the company
convinced Dr. Mansfield that he had better leave
the matter as it was, unless he was prepared to meet
fully Tobiah's expectations. So be said,–
Well, we won't dispute about it, Tobiah; you are
welcome to my services.
Stands by de bargain, sar, replied the latter,
with unshaken gravity.
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