Martha Griffith Browne

Martha Griffith Browne

Summary

Portrait of Martha Griffith Browne Martha Griffith Browne Autobiography of a Female Slave

Let me still remain in bondage, call me still by the ignoble title of slave, but leave me the unbought and priceless inheritance of a stainless conscience. I am free of murder before God and man. Still riot in your wealth; still batten on inhumanity, women of the white complexion, but of the black hearts! I envy you not. Still let me rejoice in a darker face, but a snowy, self-approving conscience.
Miss Jane's screams brought Mr. Peterkin, Miss Tildy and the servants to her side. There, in front of the open door of the lock-up, they stood, gazing upon that revolting spectacle!
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Martha Griffith Browne Martha Griffith Browne Autobiography of a Female Slave

Strong in this consciousness, I sank to the sweetest slumber and the rosiest dreams. Through my mind gracefully flitted the phantom of Henry.
When Fanny woke me to receive my unrelished breakfast, she said:
"You've forgot that this is the day of trial; you sleep as unconsarned as though the trial was three weeks off. For my part, now that the baby is dead, I don't kere much what becomes of me."
"My cause," I replied, "is with God. To His keeping I have confided myself; therefore, I can sleep soundly."
"Have you got any lawyer?"
"No; I am a slave, and my master will not employ one."
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Martha Griffith Browne Martha Griffith Browne Autobiography of a Female Slave

I inwardly exclaimed, "nursed in luxury, reared in the lap of bounty, with friends, home and kindred, that mortal power cannot tear you from, how can you pity the poor, oppressed slave, who has no liberty, no right, no father, no brother, or friend, only as the white man chooses he shall have!" Who could expect these children of wealth, fostered by prosperity, and protected by the law, to feel for the ignorant negro, who through ages and generations has been crushed and kept in ignorance? We are told to love our masters! Why should we? Are we dogs to lick the hand that strikes us?
Source: Gutenberg

Get perspective with Kwize: daily news enlightened by great literature