, to whip, with much apparent force, and continued till he
got out of sight.

"When coming up the river forty or fifty miles below Vicksburg, a
Judge Owens came on board the steamboat. He was owner of a cotton
plantation below there, and on being told of the above whipping, he
said that slaves were often whipped to death for great offences, such
as _stealing,_ &c.--but that when death followed, the overseers were
generally severely _reproved!_

"About the same time, he spent a night at Mr. Casey's, three miles
from Columbia, South Carolina. Whilst there they heard him giving
orders as to what was to be done, and amongst other things, "That
nigger must be buried." On inquiry, he learnt that a gentleman
traveling with a servant, had a short time previous called there, and
said his servant had just been taken ill, and he should be under the
necessity of leaving him. He did so. The slave became worst, and
Casey called in a physician, who pronounced it an old case, and said
that he must shortly die. The slave said, if that was the case he
would now tell the truth. He had been attacked, a long time since,
with a difficulty in the side--his master swore he would 'have his own
out of him' and started off to sell him, with a threat to kill him if
he told he had been sick, more than a few days. They saw them making
a rough plank box to bury him in.

"In March, 1833, twenty-five or thirty miles south of Columbia, on the
great road through Sumpterville district, they saw a large company of
female slaves carrying rails and building fence. Three of them were
far advanced in pregnancy.

"In the month of January, 1838, he put up with a drove of mules and
horses, at one Adams', on the Drovers' road, near the south border of
Kentucky. His son-in-law, who had lived in the south, was there. In
conversation about picking cotton, he said, 'some hands cannot get the
sleight of it. I have a girl who to-day has done as good a day's work
at grubbing as any _man_, but I could not make her a hand at
cotton-picking. I whipped her, and if I did it once I did it five
hundred times, but I found she _could_ not; so I put her to carrying
rails with the men. After a few days I found her shoulders were so
_raw_ that every rail was _bloody_ as she laid it down. I asked her if
she would not rather pick cotton than carry rails. 'No,' said she, 'I
don't get whipped now.'"

WILLIAM A. USTICK, an elder of the Presbyterian church at
Bloomingburg, and Mr