from them or from anybody else. They had no notion of reading and writing; but they seem to have had notions as clear as the atmosphere of Africa of whatever they did attend to. This time hundred years Elizabeth was eighteen years old; a strong hearty girl, fond of activity of all sorts, and valuable not only on that account but because of her quietness and silence. As afterwards appeared, her rule of life was “keepin’ still and mindin’ things.” And thus she gave no trouble, made no mischief, and was always up to the occa- sion. Such was the account which her owners would have given of her a century since; but they were not aware that this quiet girl — Mum Bet, as she was called through life — would be the means of determining the destinies of their great country, after a century or more of its national existence. They did not then suspect that they were about to become a nation; that their government would be a federal republic; that their slaves would be a canker at the core of their republicanism; that the alternative would, in time, be surrendering the liberties of the whites or the slavery of the blacks; and that this alternative was to be decided for them, unconsciously and long in advance, by this black damsel, Mum Bet, whom they did not bestow a thought upon as she waited behind their chairs when they dined with each other. All this was in the future, except the girl and her excellent faculties.
Her use of her faculties may be seen in her behaviour on an occasion which occurred later on in her life, after the country became disturbed by war and the local troubles which attended it. She was nursing, in severe illness, the wife of Judge Sedgwick, in the country — the Judge being at Boston on business. There were nightly apprehensions throughout the State from the visits of the Marauders, as they were called — bands of lawless men, who entered and plundered the houses of country gentlemen by night, on pretence of searching for ammunition and prisoners. Nobody could conjecture when they would come; and the gentlemen were obliged to be in Boston, taking the chance of their homes not being entered in their absence. The valley of the Housatonic depended on Mum Bet for its safety when the heads of families were away. Her common sense was a match for all the powers of evil, in the view of her neighbours; and the administration of the public safety was, by common consent, placed in her hands.
She declared she could have no'cowards hanging about her. Anybody that was afraid must be off. She sent children and timid women up into the hills at sunset, to sleep in farm-houses that were secure from attack. She accepted the charge of all the gold watches, rings, and other small valuables which the neighbours wished to preserve. She stowed them all in an iron chest in her garret, and arranged everything for the expected intrusion. The great fear was that the fellows would drink and be riotous: and this was the danger that Mum Bet first addressed herself to. She put all the spirits and wine behind several rows of bottled porter, took out the corks to make the porter flat, and put them in again. She hid away all candles and candlesticks but one, and that she determined to carry herself. She loaded the pistols, and fully intended to lead the Marauders to believe that the gentlemen were at home, by the number of shots fired at the intruders. To save Mrs. Sedgwick from intrusion was her object: but when the moment came, Mrs. Sedgwick insisted on the people being admitted without a shot. Mum Bet was to the last degree reluctant; but, as she must open the door, she did it with a fire-shovel in one hand, and with the assurance that neither the Judge was there nor any ammunition or prisoners. They said they would ascertain this for themselves, and would have taken the Hght. She held it back, and said she would light them wherever they chose to go, but would not part with the candlestick. That was the way to the cellars, and this was the way to the chambers. Which did they prefer?
They chose the cellars first, and, as she had anticipated, rushed upon the “liquor.” One broke the neck of a bottle; for which Mum Bet rebuked him, saying she would bring them a corkscrew, if they wished to drink like gentlemen, but that the next who broke a bottle should feel the edge of her shovel. One and another tasted, aijd made wry faces at the flat porter, saying that gentlemen had odd tastes to like such bitter stuff, and that spirits were infinitely better. The reply to which was, that the sort of gentlemen who lived here did not drink spirits.
The intruders helped themselves to pickled pork out of a barrel which stood at the foot of the cellar-stairs; but they were so stung by Mum Bet’s sarcasm about coming for ammunition and prisoners, and taking up with pickled pork, that they threw back their booty into the barrel. Next followed a pretended search of the chambers, where they thrust their bayonets under the beds. It so happened that there was nothing visible which was worth carrying off; and Mum Bet hoped they were going away when they turned up-stairs to the garret. In hers the chest attracted their attention, and some one observed that it looked as if it had something in it. Mum Bet put down the light, and kneeled on the chest, shovel in hand, saying, “ This is my chist, and let any man try to touch it, and see what he will get!“ A negro woman’s chest was not thought worth the venture, and the owner had the satisfaction of lighting the party down to the hall-door. There they were met by an officious young lady, a visitor in the house, who deprived Mum Bet of the glory of sending them away empty-handed. She asked them if they would like to see the stables, which occasioned the loss of one or more horses. Mum Bet was provoked to speech, saying that if she had thought “the pesky fool“ would have done such a thing, she would have turned the horses loose in the meadow overnight, knowing that they would come at her call in the morning.
This anecdote— one among many — shows what this woman was made of. The story has been told before: but its significance as an illustration of character, and the further story of what she achieved, appear in a different aspect, under the
light of recent events, from that in which her