CECILY JONES to all her slaves. Most shocking of all was the brutal beating of Mary's fellow slave and friend, the pregnant Hetty, whose savage thrashing, urged on by an angry Mrs. Ingham, resulted in the premature birth of a still-born child. Physically malnourished and weakened from the persistent beatings, Hetty soon followed her child to its grave. Protected by the law that refused to extend protection to those who most needed it the enslaved the Ingrams' were not called upon to account for their role in Hetty's early death, and their ill-treatment continued unabated. Their demands increased, and Mary was forced to assume the dead Hetty's tasks in addition to her own duties. Finally, traumatised by Hetty's death, and unwilling to accept their continued brutality, Mary ran away from the Ingham household, fleeing to her mother's house. Though pained to hear of his daughter's ill-treatment, in efforts to avert the harsh punishments meted out to runaway slaves, Mary's father returned her to her owners, with the fervent plea that they temper their harsh treatment of his daughter. This episode heightened Mary's awareness of her parent's absolute powerlessness, and their inability to protect her from the Ingham's wrath. "Mothers could only weep and mourn over their children, they could not save them from cruel masters from the whip, the rope and the cow-skin" (Ferguson 70). Her father lacked any authority and his pleas for leniency fell on deaf ears. Mary alone would have to speak up for herself, and with immense courage, she informed the Inghams that she would no longer tolerate their harshness. On this occasion, Mary won out, and escaped the expected punishment. But the remainder of her life with the Inghams remained unchanged a daily routine of hard labour, poor food, and ill-treatment, until five years later when she was sent away to Turk's Island. Mary's joy at leaving the Inghams was tainted by the manner of her departure once again wrenched away from her parents and siblings, forbidden to bid goodbye to them. "Oh the Buckra people who keep slaves think that black people are like cattle, without natural affection. But my heart tells me it is far otherwise" (Ferguson 71). She nevertheless retained optimism that her new owners would prove more humane than the Inghams. But her new owner Mr. D proved a callous master who worked his slaves unceasingly. In him, Mary discovered that she had in fact, merely gone "from one butcher to another." For the slightest infraction Mr. D punished his slaves unmercifully, displaying not the least emotion, remaining immune to their tears and pleas for mercy. In the salt mines, Mary was forced to "work, work, work" with little respite even when afflicted by painful salt boils caused by standing for long hours up to her knees in salt water (Ferguson 72-73). Inadequate diet, poor healthcare, overwork and constant floggings typified the lot of Mary and her co-workers. Inevitably, the salt-mines proved the undoing of Mary's already precarious health, and Mr D eventually took Mary back to Bermuda. There, despite unrelieved labour, Mary found life somewhat more tolerable than on Turk's Island, though the beatings continued and Mary had to further contend with Mr. D's sexual advances, which when