Ladies and gentlemen may I present to
you the runaway and abolitionist, Miss Mercy Price. May God be with you. (Muttered in unison: May God be with you. May God be with you all. I have the Lord to thank for my life. Left to my master, I would be quite dead. I was born and raised in the fishing village of Six Men’s in the British
colony of Barbados. When I was five, I was sold to a Mr Beaumont. He put me to work
cutting sugarcane day and night. He was a man who worship profit and enjoyed the
use of his whip. I received 30 the first time I ran away. I made two more attempts and each time I was caught my master would string me up. But as you see I
refused to die and now here I stand because the cruelty of inhuman usage is
repugnant to me and to you. I have witnessed desperate slaves, including my
pregnant mother, leap into a cauldron of boiling sugar, thus depriving her owner
of crop, servant and future stock I watched my dear sister broken on the
treadmill. This contraption would be set up for all to see in the public square.
Twelve slaves at a time, the old, the young. Forced to tread on a large wheel, strapped by their wrists to an overhead bar as they struggle to keep the
machine turning. Women were obliged to tie up their skirt and expose themselves. Athena was far too ashamed to tell her
skirt above her waist so her foot caught the skirt rip
and she slip. All the while the treadmill continued to bar her legs and knees and
that’s when the driver began to flog her and flog her… The lady has fainted. Some
help please! Thank you. Would you like me to stop?