Free Second Daughter by Mildred Pitts; Walter Page A

Saturday night when we were at Bett’s house, Agrippa came with three other free Africans from around the colony: Peter Salem, Felix Holbrook, and Salem Poor. I could tell these were not men from Sheffield. The fire in their eyes and in their voices let me know they were different.
    They had heard about the Sheffield Document and about the declaration that began it. Sheffield could become the first place to free slaves. “But are these honest men?” Peter Salem asked. “Do they believe these words, or are they just mouthing them?”
    â€œTheir words are far-reaching,” Josiah said, “not only for African slaves, but for slaves from England and other countries. When I look about, I fear they give these words with one hand and take them back with the other.”
    â€œWe must have faith that they believe them, not only for themselves, but for all men,” Grippy said.
    â€œWe will find out only if we petition them as we have others. Our chances here are better because they have made the declaration. So let us send our petition,” Salem Poor said.
    Of course, my sister was all for it and very excited. She and I listened as they argued back and forth before they came up with a petition that stated: “… Your petitioners … have in common with all other men a natural right to our freedoms without being deprived of them by our fellow men as we are a freeborn people and have never forfeited this blessing by any compact or agreement whatever.”
    They talked awhile about being brought here and enslaved, how bitter our lives were and how husbands and wives lived as strangers. Finally, I said, “What about the children? What about us who live all of our lives without hope of ever being free?”
    There was that ominous silence that always followed my questions or statements in the company of men. Bett’s head shot up, and her back stiffened with indignation. I waited.
    Josiah looked at me and smiled. “That is my sister, Aissa, who insists on being heard. I guess in this strange land where we often work equally hard and are treated equally harsh, she feels that the demands for freedom should be made by women as well as by men.”
    â€œAissa,” Agrippa said, “we’ll consider the children.”
    To my surprise, these words were added: “… If there was any law to hold us in bondage … there never was any to enslave our children for life when born in a free country. We therefore beg your excellency and honors will … cause an act … to be passed that may obtain our natural right our freedoms and our children be set at liberty at the year of twenty-one.”

15
    We were very happy and filled with hope when on February 25, 1774, a “warrant” calling for the annual town meeting was issued containing the following issue number: “101y, to take into consideration the present inhuman practice of enslaving our fellow creatures, the natives of Africa.” Our hopes were dimmed when the item was put off for a few weeks for study.
    In the meantime, one morning Bett and I were doing chores in and around the room where the mistress and master were still at the breakfast table. He was reading the paper that came maybe three or four times a year. “John, dear,” the mistress asked, “tell me what is all this whining about slavery? All I hear is talk about freeing slaves.”
    â€œIt’s nothing for you to worry about,” he answered matter-of-factly.
    â€œIt’s part of our investment, so it is something for us to worry about. What would happen if we freed the darkies? How could they take care of themselves? They’re like children and they’re lazy, stupid, raucous, and loud.”
    Potverdorie! And right in front of us as if we were pieces of furniture! I looked at my sister. Her face was as if cast in stone. I waited for the master to bring the mistress to her senses. For a while he acted as