THE PEG

“Look there’s a man, buck over barrel…”- Austin Reed The Life and Adventures of a Haunted Convict

                    

      Reading from an Orange County property ledger, on October 10, 1814 Mary Cesor was born “In my house of my slave Dine; Samuel S. Seward, Physician.” And on June 30, 1816 her sister “Jane or June” was born. Catherine and Sally Cesor would follow; born in 1818 and 1819 respectively. New York had passed a gradual abolition law in 1799 and that set into motion the gradual emancipation of slaves within the state border. Slave children born after that date were still considered “indentured,” males required to be freed in 25 years and females in 28 years. On July 4, 1827 full emancipation was granted the African American population of New York, finally making “freedom” a reality in the state. Until then, births of slaves far outweighed manumissions in the Seward household and on the Goshen slave rolls.

   Even voluntary freeing of a man, woman or child was regulated by law.  Manumission had to be approved by the euphemistically titled Supervisor of the Poor, hopefully guaranteeing the very young and orphaned, old, sick or dying slaves, unable to care for themselves, were not freed just because they were of no use and a financial burden to their masters and mistresses. Things didn’t always work out that way. 

   A Feb. 16, 1826 entry read, “Manumitted by Jesse Wood Jr. of the Town of Warwick, in pursuance of an Act entitled “An act concerning Slaves an Servants” passed 9 April 1813. Certified by overseers of the poor to be under the age of 4 years and of sufficient ability to provide for himself.” Jesse Wood’s young slave “Harry” was freed. He was a baby, four years old and according to the document of “sufficient ability to provide for himself.” By 1850 the Federal “Fugitive Slave Act,” would give permission to slave owners in other states to start the fearful process all over again. The “freed” men and women of New York would once again be victims of the slave trade, kidnapped by slave catchers, suffering the pain of perpetual enslavement and the lash. Lest you have to be reminded—we are a country of laws.

      

    Due to his hearing deficiency, Bill Freeman couldn’t hear the keepers’ commands or his own screams when disciplined….. but he knew he was screaming. Once Captain Tyler caught him in his good ear with that board, he testified there were just “stones” in both ears. 

    In a confused moment in the blacksmith shop, William Freeman had forgotten how to work the forge bellows, and later in the day couldn’t remember where the dye pole got set. That’s what started the argument that caused Freeman to get in a fight in the workshop. And before he knew it, Capt. Tyler was on him, pulling Bill through the shop by his injured ear.

     Every workshop post in the prison had a heavy iron ring attached six feet up on one side. The keepers could quickly handcuff an inmate, slip a short chain through the post ring, secure the offender, and proceed with the flogging in various locations; letting the other inmates watch as a warning. With frequent public punishment, everybody got to stop work and witness the whipping, happy it wasn’t them. Each workshop had the cuffs, chains and cat hanging conveniently on the wall. Flogging, that had never fallen out of favor at Auburn, was a purposeful deterrent and spectator sport. The keepers felt it was important to humiliate the weak ones, while breaking the strong in plain view of the rest. The keepers, (and some inmates) delighted in the perverse spectacle a little more than others. 

      But by this time punishing William Freeman had become a highly personalized  affair for Capt. Tyler. The boy who had dared attack him, would pay for his ambush on a guard. Tyler felt justified in his singling out of William Freeman. An inmate had attacked a senior keeper when his back was turned, and summarily been cracked in the ear in response. Now the torture would increase. It was obvious to Tyler, that Bill hadn’t learned his lesson. 

    Captain James E. Tyler dragged Willam Freeman all the way into the deepest bowels of the basement, Bill screaming in the most excruciating pain. Whatever had taken place physically in Bill’s ear as a result of the blow, had by now, migrated to his mind; causing the boy to be extremely debilitated and confused. Freeman couldn’t make sense of the simplest tasks.

   The last part of the trip to the box, clawing across the dirt, the captain couldn’t hold on to William Freeman’s pus filled, slippery ear any longer. He flopped him down, grabbed the boy’s bare heel, kicked over an empty water barrel with his boot, and draped the sobbing, hysterical, drooling Freeman over the moldy, wet barrel. The “stones” in the boy’s ears exploded into a million sharp slivers. And Tyler’s fun had just begun.

“Did ya holler Mike?”

“Yes, Rob, and I drop a fainting to the floor, and great drops of blood came running down my back…”

“So the little kittens did make you bow at the feat of your tormentor, did it?

“Yes, Rob, and it would make an angel bow too, if he had received the like.”