Harriet Jacobs: Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl
"I do earnestly desire to arouse the women of the North to a realizing sense of the two millions of women at the South, still in bondage, suffering what I suffered, and most of them far worse. I want to add my testimony to that of abler pens to convince the people of the Free States what Slavery really is. Only by experience can any one realize how deep, and dark, and foul is that pit of abominations. May the blessing of God rest upon this imperfect effort in behalf of my persecuted people" (Jacobs 281).
Harriet Jacobs was born in Edenton, North Carolina in 1813 to Elija Knox and Delilah Horniblow, both slaves. In accordance with the edict of the time, Harriet and her brother, John 'followed the condition of the mother' in slavery. After Delilah died when Harriet was a mere six years old, the little girl went to live with her mother's mistress, Margaret Horniblow. The white mistress taught Harriet to read, and to perform domestic duties such as cooking and sewing. Margaret died in 1825. In the codicil to her will, the mistress bequeathed her slaves to her five-year-old niece, Mary Matilda Norcom, daughter of Dr. James Norcom. It is Norcom whom Jacobs refers to as "Dr. Flint" in her autobiographical narrative, Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl. Flint was the cruel and malignant master who molested and harassed Jacobs from the time she was sixteen until ten years later, when she escaped. To escape her masters advances, Jacobs took a consensual lover, the white attorney, and later, congressman, Samuel Sawyer. Sawyer would father her two children, Joseph and Luisa. As the children were considered property of Norcom, as Harriet was still his slave, Norcom repeatedly threatened to sell Joseph and Louisa if their mother continued to rebuff his advances.
Jacobs managed to escape the Norcom homestead in 1835 by hiding out in swamps, and later, found refuge in the cramped and in hospitable crawlspace located above her grandmother's cottage. There she hid for seven years, watching over her children.
Jacobs narrative raises a number of topics for consideration, particularly in how we read the narrative. It is, arguably, unavoidable to invoke an awareness of historical fact and the temporal context from which she sets her narrative. One may think of her text as an historical fiction--that is, a historical record that has been interpolated with fictionalized accounts to protect both the author and those involved. She uses the pen name "Linda Brent," to protect her identity, one would assume, and certainly "Dr. Flint" is left partially anonymous. Added to her need to protect her own and others' identities, Jacobs had an acute sense of her audience's sensibilities. The white reforming women of the North who supported her cause had not yet read such frank descriptions of abuse or sexual molestation. Many had never guessed that the image of the genteel planter was just that--an image: a facade that disguised some of the basest and most immoral behavior imaginable.
Then there is the inescapable literary aspect of Jacobs' narrative. Though slave narrativists before her no doubt demonstrated a gift of expression, Jacobs' writing, infused with the sentimental character of its time, presents us with a very readable document. Jacobs produces a text that employs the vital elements of an engaging story: Characters are fleshed out with dimension and pathos; the pacing of the narrative builds to a momentum; there is foreshadowing, climax, and resolution that suggests a talent equal to and even surpassing the writers of her contemporary period.
Jacobs narrative was first published in serial form before it was bound and sold as a novel in 1861. At first reluctant to share her experience with the public, Quaker activist Amy Post encouraged Jacobs to pen her narrative. Still, she needed an authenticator--a respected member of the northern white suffrage movement to affirm that it was Jacobs who wrote the narrative. She approached Harriet Beecher Stowe, the celebrated author of Uncle Tom's Cabin, and member of a family of activists. Stowe flatly refused her; then it was Lydia Marie Child who agreed to write Jacobs' letter of authentication.
Whether we view her novel as one of historical record or literary intrigue, Jacobs' narrative is regarded as one of the most valuable records of one woman's experience in slavery. Her narrative introduced to the world the specific horrors experienced by women in bondage: the sexual objectification by white males, the accusations of innate immorality, and the damning assumptions that black women held no affection for the children they bore. Unknowingly, Jacobs would herald a generation of women activists who dared to speak out against their mistreatment, and held their own against prejudice and cruelty.
Harriet Jacobs, 1894 (Wikipedia.com)
Harriet Jacobs was born in Edenton, North Carolina in 1813 to Elija Knox and Delilah Horniblow, both slaves. In accordance with the edict of the time, Harriet and her brother, John 'followed the condition of the mother' in slavery. After Delilah died when Harriet was a mere six years old, the little girl went to live with her mother's mistress, Margaret Horniblow. The white mistress taught Harriet to read, and to perform domestic duties such as cooking and sewing. Margaret died in 1825. In the codicil to her will, the mistress bequeathed her slaves to her five-year-old niece, Mary Matilda Norcom, daughter of Dr. James Norcom. It is Norcom whom Jacobs refers to as "Dr. Flint" in her autobiographical narrative, Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl. Flint was the cruel and malignant master who molested and harassed Jacobs from the time she was sixteen until ten years later, when she escaped. To escape her masters advances, Jacobs took a consensual lover, the white attorney, and later, congressman, Samuel Sawyer. Sawyer would father her two children, Joseph and Luisa. As the children were considered property of Norcom, as Harriet was still his slave, Norcom repeatedly threatened to sell Joseph and Louisa if their mother continued to rebuff his advances.
Jacobs managed to escape the Norcom homestead in 1835 by hiding out in swamps, and later, found refuge in the cramped and in hospitable crawlspace located above her grandmother's cottage. There she hid for seven years, watching over her children.
Jacobs narrative raises a number of topics for consideration, particularly in how we read the narrative. It is, arguably, unavoidable to invoke an awareness of historical fact and the temporal context from which she sets her narrative. One may think of her text as an historical fiction--that is, a historical record that has been interpolated with fictionalized accounts to protect both the author and those involved. She uses the pen name "Linda Brent," to protect her identity, one would assume, and certainly "Dr. Flint" is left partially anonymous. Added to her need to protect her own and others' identities, Jacobs had an acute sense of her audience's sensibilities. The white reforming women of the North who supported her cause had not yet read such frank descriptions of abuse or sexual molestation. Many had never guessed that the image of the genteel planter was just that--an image: a facade that disguised some of the basest and most immoral behavior imaginable.
Then there is the inescapable literary aspect of Jacobs' narrative. Though slave narrativists before her no doubt demonstrated a gift of expression, Jacobs' writing, infused with the sentimental character of its time, presents us with a very readable document. Jacobs produces a text that employs the vital elements of an engaging story: Characters are fleshed out with dimension and pathos; the pacing of the narrative builds to a momentum; there is foreshadowing, climax, and resolution that suggests a talent equal to and even surpassing the writers of her contemporary period.
Jacobs narrative was first published in serial form before it was bound and sold as a novel in 1861. At first reluctant to share her experience with the public, Quaker activist Amy Post encouraged Jacobs to pen her narrative. Still, she needed an authenticator--a respected member of the northern white suffrage movement to affirm that it was Jacobs who wrote the narrative. She approached Harriet Beecher Stowe, the celebrated author of Uncle Tom's Cabin, and member of a family of activists. Stowe flatly refused her; then it was Lydia Marie Child who agreed to write Jacobs' letter of authentication.
Whether we view her novel as one of historical record or literary intrigue, Jacobs' narrative is regarded as one of the most valuable records of one woman's experience in slavery. Her narrative introduced to the world the specific horrors experienced by women in bondage: the sexual objectification by white males, the accusations of innate immorality, and the damning assumptions that black women held no affection for the children they bore. Unknowingly, Jacobs would herald a generation of women activists who dared to speak out against their mistreatment, and held their own against prejudice and cruelty.
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