Caesar's Story: 1759 (Colonial Williamsburg(R)) - Hardcover
In partnership with the Colonial Williamsburg Foundation come authentic novels set in the
18th century about actual people, places, and events in this celebrated Virginia town.
Caesar’s life as a slave consists of long hours of backbreaking work. Having his mother, father, and sisters around him is the one thing that makes it all bearable. But when the master chooses Caesar to be his personal servant and live in the big house far from his own home, Caesar has no choice but to obey. Why do things have to change?
18th century about actual people, places, and events in this celebrated Virginia town.
Caesar’s life as a slave consists of long hours of backbreaking work. Having his mother, father, and sisters around him is the one thing that makes it all bearable. But when the master chooses Caesar to be his personal servant and live in the big house far from his own home, Caesar has no choice but to obey. Why do things have to change?
"synopsis" may belong to another edition of this title.
About the Author:
Joan Lowery Nixon is the award-winning and beloved author of more than 100 books for young readers, including the Orphan Train Adventures, the Orphan Train Children, and the Ellis Island series.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:
Chapter One
"Where do they come from--all those slimy tobacco worms?'' Sukey asked Caesar as she squashed another worm and made a face. "Every day we turn each leaf, pickin' off the worms, but every day more worms come back. I ask you, where do they all come from?''
Caesar was too tired to smile at his seven-year-old sister's question. Along with the other slaves assigned to the large tobacco fields at Carter's Grove, he had spent a long day of stooping and squatting beside each young plant, turning the leaves one by one to pick off the worms and kill them. His legs, back, and shoulders ached.
This was Sukey's first year of work in the fields. Picking worms was a chore even the younger children could do. "Ask Granny Hannah about the worms. She'll tell you,'' Caesar answered. He knew if Granny Hannah didn't have a story in her head about where worms came from, she'd make one up. Granny Hannah was so old she had no idea when she was born. She had long been assigned to care for the slave children under the age of seven while their parents worked in the fields. She loved to tell the children stories and legends from the African village where she had grown up.
Granny Hannah always began the stories by saying, "Remember what I tell you. All of us must keep rememberin', else we'll lose the stories forever.''
"When can we go home? We been workin' all day, and I'm tired,'' Sukey complained.
Just then the overseer's deep voice rang out from across the field. Along with the other slaves, Caesar straightened, rubbing the small of his back. He smiled at Sukey. "Now we can go home,'' he said.
As they walked single file between the rows of plants, careful not to bruise them, Caesar thought about his own childhood, which had ended quickly when he reached the age of seven. He had been born just a week before Nathaniel Burwell, the master's son, and from the time they were four years old, the two of them had played together constantly.
Caesar clearly remembered one evening, after he and Nat had pretended to hunt for bears and wolves at the edge of the nearby woods. He'd flung himself into his mother's lap and happily announced, "Nat is my best friend.''
Belinda had lovingly stroked his back, but at the same time had shaken her head. "Nathaniel is the master's son, and you are a slave,'' she'd said firmly. "You can never be friends.''
"Yes, we can,'' Caesar had stubbornly insisted.
"You cannot, and it's time you learned that,'' Belinda had answered. Her voice was so tight and angry that Caesar sat up and looked into her eyes, but she didn't look at him.
"A friend is someone you can love and trust,'' she'd said bitterly. "He's not someone who buys you, owns you, and treats you as if you're not human.''
"But Nat didn't do any of that. He's not to blame,'' Caesar had argued.
"Nat's no different from any other slaveholder,'' Belinda continued. She gripped Caesar's shoulder. "You'll never know how it is to live free, to go and come as you please, to own yourself.''
"Like you did, Mam?'' Caesar asked. Belinda rarely spoke of her childhood, but when she did her words were filled with pain. He knew that another tribe had raided his mother's African village, captured her and others in her family, and sold them to slave traders.
"We were chained down in the hold of a ship,'' his mother had said. "We lay in pools of urine and vomit, sometimes terrified that the ship would sink and we'd be drowned.'' Her words had drifted into a whisper. "And sometimes, thinking of our future as prisoners forever, we hoped it would sink.''
Caesar would never forget his mother's words, but he pushed the conversation out of his mind. He didn't want to hear anything against Nat. There was no boy he'd rather spend time with than Nat, and every day they eagerly ran to meet each other.
Caesar tried to be as much like Nat as he could. He whistled through his front teeth and he walked with his chin held high, just like Nat did.
Sukey teased him for "talkin' funny,'' and Milly complained, "Why you want to sound like the master's child?''
Caesar just grinned at his sisters. "I like the way Nat talks,'' he answered.
Caesar carefully kept the small, treasured hornbook Nat had given him in the shallow pit in the floor of their house, where the family kept what few valuables they owned. By Nat's side, Caesar had learned to read at the age of five.
Although many slave owners believed there was little value in educating their slaves, Carter Burwell had not objected. He also believed that all his slaves should be baptized in the Anglican Church and learn their catechism. So when Nat had begged that Caesar be allowed to learn to read with him, Mr. Burwell had told Nat's tutor he could include Caesar in the lessons. "Providing the boy seems able and interested,'' he'd added. Caesar had learned to read quickly.
Things changed, however, when Caesar and Nat were only six. Carter Burwell became ill and died.
After the funeral Nat was finally able to escape the crowd of people who had come to his home. Caesar ran with him to their special hideaway glen in the forest and sat quietly, holding Nat's hand and crying with him.
Then, when Caesar was seven, his life had altered forever. His playtime had come to an end, and he had learned just what it meant to be a slave.
"You're old enough now to begin to earn your keep,'' Mr. Ambrose Burfoot, the overseer, had told Caesar. He'd assigned Caesar to carry away armloads of brush and twigs that had been cut by the men clearing new land.
At the same time, Nat's guardian, his uncle William Nelson, decided Nat was at an age to begin learning the many duties involved in managing the large plantation, which now belonged to Nat and which someday he'd control.
From the Trade Paperback edition.
"Where do they come from--all those slimy tobacco worms?'' Sukey asked Caesar as she squashed another worm and made a face. "Every day we turn each leaf, pickin' off the worms, but every day more worms come back. I ask you, where do they all come from?''
Caesar was too tired to smile at his seven-year-old sister's question. Along with the other slaves assigned to the large tobacco fields at Carter's Grove, he had spent a long day of stooping and squatting beside each young plant, turning the leaves one by one to pick off the worms and kill them. His legs, back, and shoulders ached.
This was Sukey's first year of work in the fields. Picking worms was a chore even the younger children could do. "Ask Granny Hannah about the worms. She'll tell you,'' Caesar answered. He knew if Granny Hannah didn't have a story in her head about where worms came from, she'd make one up. Granny Hannah was so old she had no idea when she was born. She had long been assigned to care for the slave children under the age of seven while their parents worked in the fields. She loved to tell the children stories and legends from the African village where she had grown up.
Granny Hannah always began the stories by saying, "Remember what I tell you. All of us must keep rememberin', else we'll lose the stories forever.''
"When can we go home? We been workin' all day, and I'm tired,'' Sukey complained.
Just then the overseer's deep voice rang out from across the field. Along with the other slaves, Caesar straightened, rubbing the small of his back. He smiled at Sukey. "Now we can go home,'' he said.
As they walked single file between the rows of plants, careful not to bruise them, Caesar thought about his own childhood, which had ended quickly when he reached the age of seven. He had been born just a week before Nathaniel Burwell, the master's son, and from the time they were four years old, the two of them had played together constantly.
Caesar clearly remembered one evening, after he and Nat had pretended to hunt for bears and wolves at the edge of the nearby woods. He'd flung himself into his mother's lap and happily announced, "Nat is my best friend.''
Belinda had lovingly stroked his back, but at the same time had shaken her head. "Nathaniel is the master's son, and you are a slave,'' she'd said firmly. "You can never be friends.''
"Yes, we can,'' Caesar had stubbornly insisted.
"You cannot, and it's time you learned that,'' Belinda had answered. Her voice was so tight and angry that Caesar sat up and looked into her eyes, but she didn't look at him.
"A friend is someone you can love and trust,'' she'd said bitterly. "He's not someone who buys you, owns you, and treats you as if you're not human.''
"But Nat didn't do any of that. He's not to blame,'' Caesar had argued.
"Nat's no different from any other slaveholder,'' Belinda continued. She gripped Caesar's shoulder. "You'll never know how it is to live free, to go and come as you please, to own yourself.''
"Like you did, Mam?'' Caesar asked. Belinda rarely spoke of her childhood, but when she did her words were filled with pain. He knew that another tribe had raided his mother's African village, captured her and others in her family, and sold them to slave traders.
"We were chained down in the hold of a ship,'' his mother had said. "We lay in pools of urine and vomit, sometimes terrified that the ship would sink and we'd be drowned.'' Her words had drifted into a whisper. "And sometimes, thinking of our future as prisoners forever, we hoped it would sink.''
Caesar would never forget his mother's words, but he pushed the conversation out of his mind. He didn't want to hear anything against Nat. There was no boy he'd rather spend time with than Nat, and every day they eagerly ran to meet each other.
Caesar tried to be as much like Nat as he could. He whistled through his front teeth and he walked with his chin held high, just like Nat did.
Sukey teased him for "talkin' funny,'' and Milly complained, "Why you want to sound like the master's child?''
Caesar just grinned at his sisters. "I like the way Nat talks,'' he answered.
Caesar carefully kept the small, treasured hornbook Nat had given him in the shallow pit in the floor of their house, where the family kept what few valuables they owned. By Nat's side, Caesar had learned to read at the age of five.
Although many slave owners believed there was little value in educating their slaves, Carter Burwell had not objected. He also believed that all his slaves should be baptized in the Anglican Church and learn their catechism. So when Nat had begged that Caesar be allowed to learn to read with him, Mr. Burwell had told Nat's tutor he could include Caesar in the lessons. "Providing the boy seems able and interested,'' he'd added. Caesar had learned to read quickly.
Things changed, however, when Caesar and Nat were only six. Carter Burwell became ill and died.
After the funeral Nat was finally able to escape the crowd of people who had come to his home. Caesar ran with him to their special hideaway glen in the forest and sat quietly, holding Nat's hand and crying with him.
Then, when Caesar was seven, his life had altered forever. His playtime had come to an end, and he had learned just what it meant to be a slave.
"You're old enough now to begin to earn your keep,'' Mr. Ambrose Burfoot, the overseer, had told Caesar. He'd assigned Caesar to carry away armloads of brush and twigs that had been cut by the men clearing new land.
At the same time, Nat's guardian, his uncle William Nelson, decided Nat was at an age to begin learning the many duties involved in managing the large plantation, which now belonged to Nat and which someday he'd control.
From the Trade Paperback edition.
"About this title" may belong to another edition of this title.
- PublisherDelacorte Books for Young Readers
- Publication date2000
- ISBN 10 0385326769
- ISBN 13 9780385326766
- BindingHardcover
- Edition number1
- Number of pages176
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Caesar's Story: 1759 (Colonial Williamsburg(R))
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ISBN 10: 0385326769
ISBN 13: 9780385326766
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CAESAR'S STORY: 1759 (COLONIAL W
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Delacorte Books for Young Readers
(2000)
ISBN 10: 0385326769
ISBN 13: 9780385326766
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