The memoirs of Dolly Morton

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

By this time everyone had disappeared, and I was alone in the fast-gathering dusk. My ears still seemed to be ringing with the sharp cracking sound of the strap striking the flesh of the women, and I still seemed to hear their cries of pain.

I felt pity, but my feelings were not so keen as they might have been a few months previously. I had grown accustomed to seeing women whipped, though I had never before seen six turned up one after the other. Moreover, since my own shameful whipping and the events which had followed, my nature had become hardened. I walked back to the house without meeting anyone, and went up to my room, where I found Rosa waiting for me. I changed my dress and bathed my face, then after having my hair brushed, I went down to dinner, which I ate with my usual good appetite, though now and then I could not help thinking of the scene I had witnessed.

After dinner I amused myself with a book until bedtime. Next morning I received a letter from Randolph, telling me that business matters would oblige him to go on to New Orleans and that he did not know exactly how long he might be detained. The news did not trouble me; I did not care for him, so I did not miss him, and I liked the thought of having so many days to myself without being poked. A nice quiet embrace in bed at night was all very well, but I disliked being poked by day with all my clothes on, and that was what Randolph often did to me. He was a man of strong sensual passions, and the least thing inflamed them: a paragraph in a paper, a picture or passage in a book, an unexpected glimpse of my ankles, or some other trifle would set him off, and then, in a twinkling I would find myself being turned up in some ridiculous position. Now all that was done — for awhile.

After breakfast, I went to the library to answer his letter, and, just as I had finished writing, Dinah, looking annoyed, came into the room with a long story of how Emma, one of the mulatto kitchen-girls, had lately been neglecting her work.

Said Dinah: I scold her an’ I scold her, but she don’t mind me one little bit, an’ dis very mawnin’ de ornery nigger wench was sassy to me, who am de housekeeper of Woodlands.

(Quadroons always call anyone darker than themselves niggers.) She continued: Now Missis, you jus’ send for her, I’ll take de gal ’up,’ and den you give her a good whippin’ with de switch.

No, Dinah, I cannot do that, said I.

Well den, Missis, send her to de overseer.

No, I won’t do that either.

Dinah looked very much surprised. She could not understand why I would neither whip the girl nor send her to the overseer.

Oh, but, Missis, she said, if dis yer gal isn’t whipped for her sassiness to me, all de other nigger wenches will get sassy to me, an’ I shan’t be able to keep dem in order.

I could hardly keep my countenance on hearing the contemptuous way Dinah spoke about nigger wenches. Although she was a slave herself, and liable at any moment to be whipped if she committed an offense, she had a great idea of her own importance as housekeeper of Woodlands. I said: Wait till Mr. Randolph comes home, then report Emma to him and he will very likely punish her.

Dinah was not satisfied with my suggestion, so she remarked that if I did not like to whip the girl with the switch or to send her to the overseer, I might at least give her a spanking with a slipper.

But I would not consent to do even that, and finally she went away fuming and muttering something about my being too easy with sassy nigger wenches.

A week passed uneventfully. Then a little incident took place which annoyed me very much and caused me to do a thing which I never had done before in my Me.

I was fond of reading out of doors in fine weather, and, one bright afternoon, taking a book, I set off to a secluded part of the grounds where there was a little pond full of beautiful water-lilies and surrounded by flowering shrubs of various sorts. On the bank of the pond was a creeper-covered summer house, furnished with a couple of long, softly-cushioned chairs and a small, round table. The floor was covered with Chinese matting. It was a comfortable little place and a favorite resort of mine.

On approaching the pond, I saw two children busily engaged in throwing stones at something struggling in the water. I knew the children; they lived in the house; they were brother and sister, their mother being a fine mulatto woman named Margaret, who was one of the kitchen maids, and, since both the boy and the girl were quadroons, their father, whoever he was, must have been a white man.

The boy was eleven years old, the girl thirteen. They had no business at the pond at all, and I expected to see them run away when they caught sight of me, but they were so absorbed in what they were doing that they did not notice my approach. When I had got closer to the pond, I saw that the object which they were stoning was a kitten, which, as soon as it had managed to struggle to the shore, they threw back into the water again to be a target for their stones.

I am very fond of all animals, especially cats, and any cruelty to a dumb creature always makes my blood boil. So, feeling very angry, I rushed down to the edge of the water and, picking up the half-drowned kitten when it had again managed to reach the shore, I placed it on the bank, hoping that the poor thing would recover. But the creature had been injured by the stones; it was at its last gasp, and in a few seconds it was dead.

I now was more angry than ever, and, going to the two children, who had not attempted to run away- not that flight would have saved them-I took them by the hand and led them into the summer house, intending to give them both a good spanking. They were slaves and belonged to the house. Therefore they were under my authority. And, as I have said before, I think that all children need corporal punishment at times. In my opinion, the two children who had stoned the kitten to death richly deserved a whipping for their gross cruelty-the girl especially, for she was old enough to have known better, and it was she who had led her little brother into mischief.

I scolded the young wretches heartily, winding up by telling them that I was going to give them both a good spanking. They did not appear to be very much frightened, but stood staring at me with their large brown eyes, without saying a word. I suppose both often had been spanked before, and I knew that, three weeks before, the girl had been well beaten by Dinah, by order of Randolph, for pilfering.

Sitting down upon a chair, I took off my slippers, then told the boy to come to me. He at once obeyed my order. I never had spanked a child, but I remembered the position in which my father used to place me for punishment, so, seizing the boy I laid him across my knees. Then I unbuttoned his trousers, pulled them down to his calves, and tucked up his shirt, laying bare his posteriors.

I gazed at the chubby little bottom laying upturned on my lap and passed my hand two or three times over the smooth olive-tinted skin. Then a desire came Over me to feel the member of a boy his age, and, slipping my hand under his belly, I took hold of his little thing, which felt like a thick, warm worm.

Having satisfied my curiosity, I proceeded to business. Holding him down with my left arm over his loins, I applied the slipper smartly to his plump little bottom, each, smack leaving a red mark on his skin and extracting a howl from him.

He kicked up his heels and wriggled about, squealing lustily and trying to roll off my lap.

But, holding him tightly, I spanked away steadily until the whole surface of his bottom was red. Then I stopped and placed him kneeling on the floor with his trousers down and his bottom turned towards me, telling him not to move till I gave him permission. He did not attempt to stir but remained where I had put him, crying loudly, his fists in his eyes. His little red buttocks shook with the sobs.

While I had been spanking the boy, his sister had looked on with a perfectly unmoved countenance, and, when I told her to come to me, she did so without hesitation. Taking hold of her, I placed her in position, saying to myself that I would make her show some signs of feeling before I was done with her. I whisked up her short and scanty garments, at once bearing her bottom (for she wore no drawers). Every thing she had on was perfectly clean.

Though the girl was only a little over thirteen years of age, she was remarkably well developed. Before taking her up I had noticed that her bosom was already showing a slight swell under her thin bodice, and now, upon looking at her bottom, I was quite astonished at its size. It was well-shaped, too. The plump, firm cheeks stood out in rounded curves; her thighs also were fairly well rounded, and she had good legs for so young a girl. Her skin was soft and smooth and of a pretty olive tint. Putting my hand under her, I touched the spot, and, finding that there was a good deal of downy hair on it, I felt pretty sure that the girl had come to puberty. (Quadroons, and, in fact, all females with Negro blood in their veins become marriageable at an early age.)

I began to spank her, laying the slipper with considerable force, making her wince and writhe.

She bore several smacks in silence, then bursting into tears, she began to squeal and kick, at the same time putting both hands behind her to shield her bottom from the hot slaps. Catching hold of her wrists, I held them tightly with my left hand and went on spanking her.

She wriggled and twisted, and she bounced and bawled. Her olive skin grew redder and redder every moment, while the summer house echoed with her shrill squeals and with the smacking noise made by the slipper as it struck her bottom, the flesh of which was as firm and elastic as possible.

I felt no pity for the cruel little girl. Quite oblivious to her cries and entreaties for mercy, I gave her the soundest spanking she ever had had. When the punishment was over, her bottom, from the loins to the thighs, was a dark red color.

Now I made her kneel beside her brother and hold her petticoats above her waist. Then I put on my slipper and leaned back in the chair, taking breath after my exertions, which had been considerable. While resting, I looked at the red marks of my handiwork on the children’s bottoms.

The boy had ceased crying, but he still sobbed at intervals, while the girl, who must have been smarting dreadfully, wailed aloud. After a short time, I told them that they might go, and they at once stood up, tears trickling down their cheeks, the girl letting her petticoats fall and the boy buttoning up his trousers. Then they slunk out of the summer house and went off home.

Feeling quite a glow of satisfaction at having punished the naughty children, I made myself comfortable, with my legs up on the chair, and began to read the novel which I had brought with me. I read quietly for about an hour, then went back to the house. That evening after dinner, when I was sitting in the small, cosy drawing room, Dinah came in to ask what I wished done in connection with some household affairs. When I had given her my directions, she did not go away, but stood fidgeting about and looking at me as if she wanted to say something. What do you want, Dinah? I asked. I don’t want nuthin’ Missis, she replied. But I want to tell you how glad I is dat you spanked dose drefful chillen dis afternoon. De kitten de little beasts killed belonged to me.

How did you come to know that I had spanked them? I inquired.

Oh, dey came home cryin’ and rubbin’ deir bottoms, an’ dey tole us dat de Missis had given dem a spankin’ in de summer house for trowin’ stones at de kitten.

I smiled, and asked Dinah if she knew who was the father of the children. She knew everything connected with Woodlands, and she informed me that the father was a white man who had at one time been an overseer on the plantation. I then asked her several more questions, and, since she was always ready to chatter to me on the least encouragement, I heard some very curious stories about the doings of slave women and girls.

She also gave me many particulars which I had not heard before about herself and the Randolph family. Dinah was very fond of hearing herself speak, and she used a great many more words than were necessary, so I will only give you a summary of what she told me.

She was exactly the same age as Randolph, both having been born on the same day, thirty-five years back. Her mother had been Randolph’s nurse, and the two children had been brought up together and had played with each other in their young days. When George grew to boyhood, he became the young master and she had to submit to all his caprices.

He was the only child and his parents spoiled him, allowing him to do what he liked. He was very precocious, and, before he was fifteen years of age, he had begun to feel her. Whenever she offended him, he would throw her down upon the floor, turn up her petticoats and spank her.

When they were eighteen years of age, he took her maidenhead. Then he continued to possess her whenever he felt inclined, for three years. After this, he went to Europe. He was away for a couple of years, and, after his return, he had further carnal relations with her only occasionally.

When Dinah was twenty-five, she got married to a quadroon man a few years older than she.

From that time, Randolph had never touched her. But, as she pithily expressed it: Massa George had plenty of oder gals in de house.

When Randolph was thirty years old, his father and mother died within a short time of each other and he became master of Woodlands. When that event occurred, Dinah was a widow and was head parlormaid. Randolph made her housekeeper and gave her a certain amount of authority over the other slave women. Of course he had never hesitated to whip her if she happened to displease him; it was, however, nearly two years now since she had received a whipping.

Dinah, having started, would have gone on chattering all night about Woodlands and its people. But as I was beginning to feel very sleepy, I sent her away and went to bed.