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UP FROM SLAVERY
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by <!-- Link to site about Booker T. Washington; open in window
called "history" --> Booker T. Washington
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Chapter I. A Slave Among Slaves
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I was born a slave on a plantation in
<!-- Link to site about Franklin County, VA; open in window called
"geography" -->Franklin County,
<!-- Link to site about the state of Virginia; open in window
called "geography" -->Virginia.
I am not quite sure of the exact place or exact date of my birth,
but at any rate I suspect I must have been born somewhere and at
some time. As nearly as I have been able to learn, I was born
near a cross-roads post-office called
<!-- Link to info about Hale's Ford, VA; open in window called
"geography" -->Hale's Ford,
and the year
was 1858 or 1859. I do not know the month or the day. The
earliest impressions I can now recall are of the
<!-- Link to historical info about the southern plantation system;
open in window called "history" -->plantation
and the slave quarters--the latter being the part of the plantation
where the slaves had their cabins.
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My life had its beginning in the midst of the most miserable,
desolate, and discouraging surroundings. This was so, however,
not because my owners were especially cruel, for they were not,
as compared with many others. I was born in a typical log cabin,
about fourteen by sixteen feet square. In this cabin I lived with
my mother and a brother and sister till after the
<!-- Link to site about the US Civil War; open in window called
"history" -->Civil War,
when we were all declared free.
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Of my ancestry I know almost nothing. In the slave quarters, and
even later, I heard whispered conversations among the coloured
people of the tortures which the slaves, including, no doubt, my
ancestors on my mother's side, suffered in the
<!-- Link to site about bringing slaves to America; open in window
called "history" -->
middle passage
of the slave ship while being conveyed from Africa to America. I
have been unsuccessful in securing any information that would
throw any accurate light upon the history of my family beyond my
mother. She, I remember, had a half-brother and a half-sister. In
the days of slavery not very much attention was given to family
history and family records--that is,
<!-- Link to info about African-American geneology; open in window
called "history" -->black family records.
My mother, I suppose, attracted the attention of a purchaser who
was
afterward my owner and hers. Her addition to the slave family
attracted about as much attention as the purchase of a new horse
or cow. Of my father I know even less than of my mother. I do not
even know his name. I have heard reports to the effect that he
was a white man who lived on one of the near-by plantations.
Whoever he was, I never heard of his taking the least interest in
me or providing in any way for my rearing. But I do not find
especial fault with him. He was simply another unfortunate victim
of the institution [of
<!-- Link to site about slavery in the US; open in window called
"history" -->slavery]
which the Nation unhappily had engrafted upon it at that time.
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