The War Of My Life

Always It Gave Me A Pang That My Children Had No Lawful Claim To A Name.

There Must Be Sophistry In All This; But The Condition Of A Slave Confuses All Principles Of Morality, And, In Fact, Renders The Practice Of Them Impossible.

When I Was Six Years Old, My Mother Died; And Then, For The First Time, I Learned, By The Talk Around Me, That I Was A Slave.

The Degradation, The Wrongs, The Vices, That Grow Out Of Slavery, Are More Than I Can Describe. They Are Greater Than You Would Willingly Believe.

When My Babe Was Born, They Said It Was Premature. It Weighed Only Four Pounds; But God Let It Live.