Двенадцать лет рабства

           Aniron-bounddoorledintoanadjoiningcell,orvault,whollydestituteofwindows,oranymeansofadmittinglight. ThefurnitureoftheroominwhichIwas,consistedofthewoodenbenchonwhichIsat,anold-fashioned,dirtyboxstove,andbesidesthese,ineithercell,therewasneitherbed,norblanket,noranyotherthingwhatever. Thedoor,throughwhichBurchandRadburnentered,ledthroughasmallpassage,upaflightofstepsintoayard,surroundedbyabrickwalltenortwelvefeethigh,immediatelyinrearofabuildingofthesamewidthasitself. Theyardextendedrearwardfromthehouseaboutthirtyfeet. Inonepartofthewalltherewasastronglyironeddoor,openingintoanarrow,coveredpassage,leadingalongonesideofthehouseintothestreet. Thedoomofthecoloredman,uponwhomthedoorleadingoutofthatnarrowpassageclosed,wassealed. Thetopofthewallsupportedoneendofaroof,whichascendedinwards,formingakindofopenshed. Underneaththerooftherewasacrazyloftallround,whereslaves,ifsodisposed,mightsleepatnight,orininclementweatherseekshelterfromthestorm. Itwaslikeafarmer’sbarnyardinmostrespects,saveitwassoconstructedthattheoutsideworldcouldneverseethehumancattlethatwereherdedthere. 

           Thebuildingtowhichtheyardwasattached,wastwostorieshigh,frontingononeofthepublicstreetsofWashington. Itsoutsidepresentedonlytheappearanceofaquietprivateresidence. Astrangerlookingatit,wouldneverhavedreamedofitsexecrableuses. Strangeasitmayseem,withinplainsightofthissamehouse,lookingdownfromitscommandingheightuponit,wastheCapitol. Thevoicesofpatrioticrepresentativesboastingoffreedomandequality,andtherattlingofthepoorslave’schains,almostcommingled. AslavepenwithintheveryshadowoftheCapito!