Of course we at once abandoned that
cabin. Finally we reached our destination -- a little town called
Malden, which is about five miles from Charleston, the present capital
of the state.
At that time salt-mining was the great industry in that part of
West Virginia, and the little town of Malden was right in the midst of
the salt-furnaces. My stepfather had already secured a job at a salt-
furnace, and he had also secured a little cabin for us to live in.
Our new house was no better than the one we had left on the old
plantation in Virginia. In fact, in one respect it was worse.
Notwithstanding the poor condition of our plantation cabin, we were at
all times sure of pure air. Our new home was in the midst of a
cluster of cabins crowded closely together, and as there were no
sanitary regulations, the filth about the cabins was often
intolerable. Some of our neighbours were coloured people, and some
were the poorest and most ignorant and degraded white people. It was
a motley mixture. Drinking, gambling, quarrels, fights, and
shockingly immoral practices were frequent. All who lived in the
little town were in one way or another connected with the salt
business. Though I was a mere child, my stepfather put me and my
brother at work in one of the furnaces.
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