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You were born an enslaved person in the Caribbean. The stories of the elders in the ‘slave quarters’ inspire you to gain your freedom. Journal your efforts to be free as well as the consequences of those efforts:
November 20th, 1853
Dear Diary,
My name is Shinnel Haggard and I am currently thirteen (13) years of age. I was born on September 14th, 1840 to enslaved parents on Spring Hill Farm, a historic slave plantation located in Ellicott City in Howard County, Maryland, United States. (cite). During that time, slavery was yet to be abolished (cite), which seemed almost impossible. My parents were in the process of attaining their liberty papers. With those documents, we would have been able to have the same rights as the mulattos (cite), who were freed individuals of black and white descent owning wealth and property (cite). That opportunity had the potential to open many doors to our emancipation (cite); however, our applications were denied on numerous occasions, probably because we were not mixed. We eventually gave up and my parents died shortly after our last attempt.
I miss them so much. If only God had taken me instead! Now I have to fight all on my own. I am exhausted. I feel like my own life does not belong to me, but isn’t that the case? These ‘white devils’ continue to take more of us, slaves, every day, regardless of whether we have flesh or meat. Every day I pray for some miracle to happen so that I can be free from all the bondage, or else I would be forced to take my own life! I can no longer suppress the agony. I just wish I was never born. Nevertheless, I’ll try to remain positive and pray for that miracle. Master Prince (cite) is here now, I have to go!
September 14th, 1855
Dear Diary,
Today is my birthday. I am now 15 years old. As I grow older, and the more I think about my parents’ death, I become more and more disgusted by slavery and my heart sparks with a flame of rebellion. Today I even overheard the men in the slave quarters giving accounts of ex-slaves who successfully escaped and I am definitely now inspired. I finally feel like there is hope for me. The thought of wanting to escape is pending heavily on my mind, but I am also afraid that, if I am caught in the process, I will be badly punished. Therefore, I have to plan my escape strategically. The next time you hear from me, I will be a free woman! This I promise you!
December 19th, 1855
Dear Diary,
After constantly hearing about the successful attempts for freedom by ex-slaves, I was determined to escape Spring Hill Farm. I had decided that I would not let another year meet me here. I waited until midnight, when the security shift had changed, to make my first escape. I escaped and made approximately 1.5 km. My heart was pounding with tremendous joy already! I had not yet escaped fully but felt as if I had already succeeded. Suddenly after, I heard the barking of the hounds and began running even faster. I immediately felt devastated. I was eventually caught and they took me back to the plantation and placed me in the sweatbox for only 6 hours, probably because it was a first-time offense. The sweatbox is a method of solitary confinement used in humid and arid regions as a method of punishment. Anyone placed in one would experience extreme heat, dehydration, heat exhaustion, and even death, depending on when and how long one was kept in the box. (cite). The box will normally be nailed shut and placed in the hottest area of the plantation in the summer and the coldest area in the winter (cite). I cried my eyes out in the sweatbox. I even felt like just staying there until death. I had almost given up. They had only recently released me from the box and, of course, I still feel depressed and deterred. They are now monitoring my every move, but due to my resilient nature, I am still determined to become free and will continue to pray for a miracle.
February 18th, 1856
Dear Diary,
Today was a fantastic day. My prayers have somewhat been answered. God is so wondrous to me! The miracle I have been praying for seems to have finally arrived! Harriet Tubman, an escaped slave who became a “conductor” on the Underground Railroad, leading slaves to freedom before the Civil War (History.com Editors, 2019), had come to speak with us, slaves, today at the plantation. She told us a little about herself and that she was inclined to assist us in our escape to liberation via the underground railroad (cite). The Underground Railroad is a network of secret routes and safe houses established in the United States during the early to mid-19th century, and used by African-American slaves to escape into free states and Canada with the aid of abolitionists and allies who were sympathetic to their cause. (American Heritage Dictionary, 2011). She couldn’t say much to us, because she feared being found by the patrollers, but she advised us to prepare for our ‘big escape’, which is expected to take place on the night of December 14th (seven (7) days from now). In preparation, she instructed us to walk with light refreshments, warm attire, and medical supplies. She also advised us to be punctual, otherwise, we would be left behind. I am so exhilarated, but trying to not seem conspicuous to Master Prince or anyone else. She advised us to be prepared to disguise ourselves upon advent so that slave hunters wouldn’t easily catch us (cite). I am about to pray and sleep. Freedom is around the corner!
February 21st, 1856
Dear Diary,
Today was horrendous! I was about to return to my duties after lunch, and on arrival, I spotted Punto (another plantation slave) being flogged. Flesh and blood were flying everywhere! Master Prince was complaining about how Punto had lost some of the cattle while they were grazing today. Punto, of course, expressed his regret, but then the worst part came. Master Prince pulled out the fire poker and pierced it through Punto’s left eye, after which he fell to the ground, dead (cite)! I immediately felt nauseated. This was an incentive to make my second escape. I figured I could no longer wait for the ‘big escape’ with Harriet Tubman in four (4) days, and was now desperate to achieve liberation in any way possible. Resultantly, I decided to make another run for it. I had cut my hair shorter than it already was, dressed in men’s attire, dabbed make-up on, and wrapped my head in bandages to pose as an injured white man (cite). I honestly had no idea where I was headed, but I was off to somewhere! Suddenly, before I could have left the plantation, I heard footsteps following me and I looked behind and saw Master Prince and another white man chasing me. At that point, I surrendered. I had ceased. They caught on to me and took me back to the plantation where they gang-raped and flogged me. Now, here I am, lying on the ground, crying more than I have ever cried. Why didn’t they shoot and kill me instead?! Now they have taken away God’s greatest gift to me, my virginity! I resent them so much! I really hope they die in their slumber tonight!
February 25th, 1856
Dear Diary,
Last night was the night of the ‘big escape’. Seven (7) slaves, including myself, rendezvoused with our leader, Harriet Tubman, and her three (3) brothers, destined for freedom. Some of the slaves did not get to leave with us as patrollers had caught on to them at the plantation. The journey thus far has been extremely tedious! While endeavoring to cross the Christiana River, we had to hide in a straw-covered wagon, pulled by bricklayers. Soon after crossing the bridge, we spotted slave hunters, so the bricklayers pretended to be boisterous drunkards returning from a binge (cite). Our hearts were pounding! Thankfully; however, the slave hunters had dismissed us (cite). Nevertheless, I am so jubilant that we have made it out of Spring Hill Farm successfully, at least. We have recently stopped to rest at what Ms. Tubman calls a ‘safe house’, as it will soon be bright so that we would not be at risk for encounters with slave catchers. Here, we had the opportunity to change our wet, dirty clothes and hang them out to dry, and we replaced them with the clean apparel we had packed. We have also decided to take a nap. We asked the conductors at the safe house to inform us of when it was dark again so that we could continue our journey safely. I am ecstatic and look forward to the rest of this journey! I know I am not yet quite ‘free’, but I soon will be! I feel liberated already! All thanks to Harriet Tubman!
April 27th, 1856
Dear Diary,
This past month has been the worst part of our journey thus far! The weather is becoming more frigid, so we have gotten frostbite. We have even run out of food and I am beginning to feel very weary, weak, and dehydrated. I feel like I may soon give up and stay at one of the safe houses, but I have to remain strong! I have not come this far to imperil going back to bondage. No way! What is even worse is that one of our mates, Shonna, is now lamentably sick. She is having difficulty breathing, has a very high fever, and is constantly vomiting. Consequently, we have decided to stop at another safe house until she recuperates. The lady here has offered us food and is caring for Shonna, but nothing seems to be of help. The lady suspects that she may have Pneumonia, a fatal disease caused by swelling (inflammation) of the tissue in one or both lungs, usually due to a bacterial infection (Mayo Clinic, 2018). I am praying and hoping that Shonna recovers quickly so that she is not left behind on this journey. May God be with her!
May 26th, 1856
Dear Diary,
We have now resumed our journey to liberation. Only six (6) of us have remained. Unfortunately, Shonna had succumbed to her illness at the last safe house, where she was then buried. That depressed me so badly, but I must carry on! Additionally, Ms Tubman and her brothers have left us, as we are already more than halfway through our journey, leaving Corey, the eldest slave, to lead the mass. We had come across another impediment, where we had to cross a river that we hoped was frozen to easily accommodate our passage; however, it was not frozen, and we had no other option but to swim through the ice-cold water. It was the worst experience ever! I felt like I was dying with each stroke! I was screaming for the entire swim. Nevertheless, we have made it across, alive and well, to another safe house. Here we were offered hot tea, coffee, and blankets to help warm us up. I am now about to retire. Goodnight!
March 2nd, 1857
Dear Diary,
Alas! We have definitely reached our destination. We have arrived in Canada, the promised land (cite). It was an arduous and tiring journey, but it was indeed worth it. As I write, tears of ecstasy are streaming down my cheekbones. I cannot believe I am now free! I can now own things as opposed to being owned, unlike before. A white Canadian family, with a Christian background, The Hobbits, has already offered me a place in its home and is treating me humanely. I am so grateful for the family’s hospitality. They have even already offered to educate me and send me to school. Of course, I have accepted. I am already so excited to start school! Maybe not all white people are ‘devils’, after all! I just wish my parents were still around to celebrate and share my success with me. I know they would be proud to see how far I have come. Anyway, that is all for now. Mr. Hobbit is calling for family worship. You may hear from me soon again, but no promises! I am a free man now! God is alive!
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