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The Confessions of Nat Turner - The Leader of the Late Insurrections in Southampton, Va. As Fully and Voluntarily Made to Thomas R. Gray, in the Prison Where He Was Confined, and Acknowledged by Him to be Such when Read Before the Court of Southampton; Wi by Nat Turner
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myself of. Being at play with other children, when three or four years
old, I was telling them something, which my mother overhearing, said it
had happened before I was born--I stuck to my story, however, and
related somethings which went, in her opinion, to confirm it--others
being called on were greatly astonished, knowing that these things had
happened, and caused them to say in my hearing, I surely would be a
prophet, as the Lord had shewn me things that had happened before my
birth. And my father and mother strengthened me in this my first
impression, saying in my presence, I was intended for some great
purpose, which they had always thought from certain marks on my head and
breast--[a parcel of excrescences which I believe are not at all
uncommon, particularly among negroes, as I have seen several with the
same. In this case he has either cut them off or they have nearly
disappeared]--My grand mother, who was very religious, and to whom I was
much attached--my master, who belonged to the church, and other
religious persons who visited the house, and whom I often saw at
prayers, noticing the singularity of my manners, I suppose, and my
uncommon intelligence for a child, remarked I had too much sense to be
raised, and if I was, I would never be of any service to any one as a
slave--To a mind like mine, restless, inquisitive and observant of every
thing that was passing, it is easy to suppose that religion was the
subject to which it would be directed, and although this subject
principally occupied my thoughts--there was nothing that I saw or heard
of to which my attention was not directed--The manner in which I learned
to read and write, not only had great influence on my own mind, as I
acquired it with the most perfect ease, so much so, that I have no
recollection whatever of learning the alphabet--but to the astonishment
of the family, one day, when a book was shewn me to keep me from crying,
I began spelling the names of different objects--this was a source of
wonder to all in the neighborhood, particularly the blacks--and this
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