diff options
| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-07 17:37:55 -0800 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-07 17:37:55 -0800 |
| commit | 4108dcaac8ac1c8e4beb00a9ea1299f8f721f5a9 (patch) | |
| tree | a2d4db11bcc4ad8869c5c89cafa4e19dbaf16e19 | |
| parent | 0538339425c68de6eb69fdb4607ded229a76d047 (diff) | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 4 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/55813-0.txt | 15761 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/55813-0.zip | bin | 313493 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/55813-h.zip | bin | 355832 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/55813-h/55813-h.htm | 16148 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/55813-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 24089 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/55813-h/images/dec.jpg | bin | 5336 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/old/55813-8.txt | 15788 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/old/55813-8.zip | bin | 313802 -> 0 bytes |
11 files changed, 17 insertions, 47697 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0e2f906 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #55813 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/55813) diff --git a/old/55813-0.txt b/old/55813-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index bf15033..0000000 --- a/old/55813-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,15761 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Autobiography of a Female Slave, by Martha Griffith Browne - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Autobiography of a Female Slave - -Author: Martha Griffith Browne - -Release Date: October 25, 2017 [eBook #55813] -[Most recently updated: December 17, 2022] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: MFR, Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A FEMALE SLAVE *** - - - - -+-------------------------------------------------+ -|Transcriber's note: | -| | -|Obvious typographic errors have been corrected. | -| | -+-------------------------------------------------+ - - -AUTOBIOGRAPHY - -OF A - -FEMALE SLAVE - -[Illustration: Decoration] - -REDFIELD - -34 BEEKMAN STREET, NEW YORK - -1857 - - -Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856, by - -J. S. REDFIELD, - -In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the -Southern District of New York. - -E. O. JENKINS, - -Printer and Stereotyper, - -NO. 26 FRANKFORT STREET. - - -TO ALL PERSONS - -INTERESTED IN THE CAUSE OF FREEDOM, - -This little Book - -IS - -RESPECTFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED, - -BY - -THE AUTHOR. - - - - -CONTENTS. - - PAGE -CHAPTER I. - -The Old Kentucky Farm--My Parentage and Early Training--Death of -the Master--The Sale-day--New Master and New Home, 9 - -CHAPTER II. - -A View of the New Home, 19 - -CHAPTER III. - -The Yankee School-Mistress--Her Philosophy--The American -Abolitionists, 29 - -CHAPTER IV. - -Conversation with Miss Bradly--A Light Breaks through the Darkness, 32 - -CHAPTER V. - -A Fashionable Tea-Table--Table-Talk--Aunt Polly's Experience--The -Overseer's Authority--The Whipping-Post--Transfiguring Power of -Divine Faith, 37 - -CHAPTER VI. - -Restored Consciousness--Aunt Polly's Account of my Miraculous -Return to Life--The Master's Affray with the Overseer, 51 - -CHAPTER VII. - -Amy's Narrative, and her Philosophy of a Future State, 58 - -CHAPTER VIII. - -Talk at the Farm-House--Threats--The New Beau--Lindy, 65 - -CHAPTER IX. - -Lindy's Boldness--A Suspicion--The Master's Accountability--The -Young Reformer--Words of Hope--The Cultivated Mulatto--The Dawn -of Ambition, 76 - -CHAPTER X. - -The Conversation, in which Fear and Suspicion are Aroused--The -Young Master, 84 - -CHAPTER XI. - -The Flight--Young Master's Apprehensions--His -Conversation--Amy--Edifying Talk among Ladies, 93 - -CHAPTER XII. - -Mr. Peterkin's Rage--Its Escape--Chat at the -Breakfast-Table--Change of Views--Power of the Flesh-pots, 101 - -CHAPTER XIII. - -Recollections--Consoling Influence of Sympathy--Amy's Doctrine -of the Soul--Talk at the Spring, 107 - -CHAPTER XIV. - -The Prattlings of Insanity--Old Wounds Reopen--The Walk to the -Doctor's--Influence of Nature, 116 - -CHAPTER XV. - -Quietude of the Woods--A Glimpse of the Stranger--Mrs. Mandy's -Words of Cruel Irony--Sad Reflections, 121 - -CHAPTER XVI. - -A Reflection--American Abolitionists--Disaffection in -Kentucky--The Young Master--His Remonstrance, 127 - -CHAPTER XVII. - -The Return of the Hunters, flushed with Success--Mr. Peterkin's -Vagary, 136 - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -The Essay of Wit--Young Abolitionist--His Influence--A Night at -the Door of the "Lock-Up," 147 - -CHAPTER XIX. - -Sympathy casteth out Fear--Consequence of the Night's -Watch--Troubled Reflections, 161 - -CHAPTER XX. - -The Trader--A Terrible Fright--Power of Prayer--Grief of -the Helpless, 170 - -CHAPTER XXI. - -Touching Farewell full of Pathos--The Parting--My Grief, 183 - -CHAPTER XXII. - -A Conversation--Hope Blossoms Out, but Charlestown is full -of Excitability, 191 - -CHAPTER XXIII. - -The Supper--Its Consequences--Loss of Silver--A Lonely Night--Amy, 201 - -CHAPTER XXIV. - -The Punishment--Cruelty--Its Fatal Consequence--Death, 211 - -CHAPTER XXV. - -Conversation of the Father and Son--The Discovery; its -Consequences--Death of the Young and Beautiful, 221 - -CHAPTER XXVI. - -The Funeral--Miss Bradly's Departure--The Dispute--Spirit -Questions, 232 - -CHAPTER XXVII. - -The Awful Confession of the Master--Death--its Cold Solemnity, 243 - -CHAPTER XXVIII. - -The Bridal--Its Ceremonies--A Trip, and a Change of -Homes--The Magnolia--A Stranger, 251 - -CHAPTER XXIX. - -The Argument, 259 - -CHAPTER XXX. - -The Misdemeanor--The Punishment--Its Consequence--Fright, 279 - -CHAPTER XXXI. - -The Day of Trial--Anxiety--The Volunteer Counsel--Verdict -of the Jury, 293 - -CHAPTER XXXII. - -Execution of the Sentence--A Change--Hope, 303 - -CHAPTER XXXIII. - -Sold--Life as a Slave--Pen--Charles' Story--Uncle Peter's -Troubles--A Star Peeping Forth from the Cloud, 314 - -CHAPTER XXXIV. - -Scene in the Pen--Starting "Down the River"--Uncle Peter's -Trial--My Rescue, 333 - -CHAPTER XXXV. - -The New Home--A Pleasant Family Group--Quiet Love-Meetings, 342 - -CHAPTER XXXVI. - -The New Associates--Depraved Views--Elsy's Mistake--Departure -of the Young Ladies--Loneliness, 348 - -CHAPTER XXXVII. - -The New Mistress--Her Kindness of Disposition--A Pretty -Home--And Love-Interviews in the Summer Days, 355 - -CHAPTER XXXVIII. - -An Awful Revelation--More Clouds to Darken the Sun of -Life--Sickness and blessed Insensibility, 366 - -CHAPTER XXXIX. - -Gradual Return of Happy Spirits--Brighter Prospects--An Old -Acquaintance, 374 - -CHAPTER XL. - -The Crisis of Existence--A Dreadful Page in Life, 381 - -CHAPTER XLI. - -A Revelation--Death the Peaceful Angel--Calmness, 391 - -CHAPTER XLII. - -Conclusion, 398 - - - - -AUTOBIOGRAPHY - -OF A - -FEMALE SLAVE. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -THE OLD KENTUCKY FARM--MY PARENTAGE AND EARLY TRAINING--DEATH OF THE -MASTER--THE SALE-DAY--NEW MASTER AND NEW HOME. - - -I was born in one of the southern counties of Kentucky. My earliest -recollections are of a large, old-fashioned farm-house, built of hewn -rock, in which my old master, Mr. Nelson, and his family, consisting of -a widowed sister, two daughters and two sons, resided. I have but an -indistinct remembrance of my old master. At times, a shadow of an idea, -like the reflection of a kind dream, comes over my mind, and, then, I -conjure him up as a large, venerable-looking man, with scanty, gray -locks floating carelessly over an amplitude of forehead; a wide, -hard-featured face, with yet a kindly glow of honest sentiment; broad, -strong teeth, much discolored by the continued use of tobacco. - -I well remember that, as a token of his good-will, he always presented -us (the slave-children) with a slice of buttered bread, when we had -finished our daily task. I have also a faint _reminiscence_ of his old -hickory cane being shaken over my head two or three times, and the -promise (which remained, until his death, unfulfilled) of a good -"_thrashing_" at some future period. - -My mother was a very bright mulatto woman, and my father, I suppose, -was a white man, though I know nothing of him; for, with the most -unpaternal feeling, he deserted me. A consequence of this amalgamation -was my very fair and beautiful complexion. My skin was no perceptible -shade darker than that of my young mistresses. My eyes were large and -dark, while a profusion of nut-brown hair, straight and soft as the -whitest lady's in the land, fell in showery redundance over my neck and -shoulders. I was often mistaken for a white child; and in my rambles -through the woods, many caresses have I received from wayside -travellers; and the exclamation, "What a beautiful child!" was quite -common. Owing to this personal beauty I was a great pet with my master's -sister, Mrs. Woodbridge, who, I believe I have stated, was a widow, and -childless; so upon me she lavished all the fondness of a warm and loving -heart. - -My mother, Keziah the cook, commonly called Aunt Kaisy, was possessed of -an indomitable ambition, and had, by the hardest means, endeavored to -acquire the rudiments of an education; but all that she had succeeded in -obtaining was a knowledge of the alphabet, and orthography in two -syllables. Being very imitative, she eschewed the ordinary negroes' -pronunciation, and adopted the mode of speech used by the higher classes -of whites. She was very much delighted when Mrs. Woodbridge or Miss -Betsy (as we called her) began to instruct me in the elements of the -English language. I inherited my mother's thirst for knowledge; and, by -intense study, did all I could to spare Miss Betsy the usual drudgery of -a teacher. The aptitude that I displayed, may be inferred from the fact -that, in three months from the day she began teaching me the alphabet, I -was reading, with some degree of fluency, in the "First Reader." I have -often heard her relate this as quite a literary and educational marvel. - -There were so many slaves upon the farm, particularly young ones, that I -was regarded as a supernumerary; consequently, spared from nearly all -the work. I sat in Miss Betsy's room, with book in hand, little heeding -anything else; and, if ever I manifested the least indolence, my mother, -with her wild ambition, was sure to rally me, and even offer the -tempting bribe of cakes and apples. - -I have frequently heard my old master say, "Betsy, you will spoil that -girl, teaching her so much." "She is too pretty for a slave," was her -invariable reply. - -Thus smoothly passed the early part of my life, until an event occurred -which was the cause of a change in my whole fate. My old master became -suddenly and dangerously ill. My lessons were suspended, for Miss -Betsy's services were required in the sick chamber. I used to slyly -steal to the open door of his room, and peep in, with wonder, at the -sombre group collected there. I recollect seeing my young masters and -mistresses weeping round a curtained bed. Then there came a time when -loud screams and frightful lamentations issued thence. There were -shrieks that struck upon my ear with a strange thrill; shrieks that -seemed to rend souls and break heart-strings. My young mistresses, fair, -slender girls, fell prostrate upon the floor; and my masters, noble, -manly men, bent over the bowed forms of their sisters, whispering words -which I did not hear, but which, my mature experience tells me, must -have been of love and comfort. - -There came, then, a long, narrow, black box, thickly embossed with -shining brass tacks, in which my old master was carefully laid, with his -pale, brawny hands crossed upon his wide chest. I remember that, one by -one, the slaves were called in to take a last look of him who had been, -to them, a kind master. They all came out with their cotton -handkerchiefs pressed to their eyes. I went in, with five other colored -children, to take my look. That wan, ghastly face, those sunken eyes and -pinched features, with the white winding sheet, and the dismal coffin, -impressed me with a new and wild terror; and, for weeks after, this -"vision of death" haunted my mind fearfully. - -But I soon after resumed my studies under Miss Betsy's tuition. Having -little work to do, and seldom seeing my young mistresses, I grew up in -the same house, scarcely knowing them. I was technically termed in the -family, "the child," as I was not black; and, being a slave, my masters -and mistresses would not admit that I was white. So I reached the age of -ten, still called "a child," and actually one in all life's experiences, -though pretty well advanced in education. I had a very good knowledge of -the rudiments, had bestowed some attention upon Grammar, and eagerly -read every book that fell in my way. Love of study taught me seclusive -habits; I read long and late; and the desire of a finished education -became the passion of my life. Alas! these days were but a poor -preparation for the life that was to come after! - -Miss Betsy, though a warm-hearted woman, was a violent advocate of -slavery. I have since been puzzled how to reconcile this with her -otherwise Christian character; and, though she professed to love me -dearly, and had bestowed so much attention upon the cultivation of my -mind, and expressed it as her opinion that I was too pretty and white to -be a slave, yet, if any one had spoken of giving me freedom, she would -have condemned it as domestic heresy. If I had belonged to her, I doubt -not but my life would have been a happy one. But, alas! a different lot -was assigned me! - -About two years and six months after my old master's death, a division -was made of the property. This involved a sale of everything, even the -household furniture. There were, I believe, heavy debts hanging over the -estate. These must be met, and the residue divided among the heirs. - -When it was made known in the kitchen that a sale was to be made, the -slaves were panic-stricken. Loud cries and lamentations arose, and my -young mistresses came often to the kitchen to comfort us. - -One of these young ladies, Miss Margaret, a tall, nobly-formed girl, -with big blue eyes and brown hair, frequently came and sat with us, -trying, in the most persuasive tones, to reconcile the old ones to their -destiny. Often did I see the large tears roll down her fair cheeks, and -her red lip quiver. These indications of sympathy, coming from such a -lovely being, cheered many an hour of after-captivity. - -But the "sale-day" came at last; I have a confused idea of it. The -ladies left the day before. Miss Betsy took an affectionate leave of me; -ah, I did not then know that it was a final one. - -The servants were all sold, as I heard one man say, at very high rates, -though not under the auctioneer's hammer. To that my young masters were -opposed. - -A tall, hard-looking man came up to me, very roughly seized my arm, bade -me open my mouth; examined my teeth; felt of my limbs; made me run a few -yards; ordered me to jump; and, being well satisfied with my activity, -said to Master Edward, "I will take her." Little comprehending the full -meaning of that brief sentence, I rejoined the group of children from -which I had been summoned. After awhile, my mother came up to me, -holding a wallet in her hand. The tear-drops stood on her cheeks, and -her whole frame was distorted with pain. She walked toward me a few -steps, then stopped, and suddenly shaking her head, exclaimed, "No, no, -I can't do it, I can't do it." I was amazed at her grief, but an -indefinable fear kept me from rushing to her. - -"Here, Kitty," she said to an old negro woman, who stood near, "you -break it to her. I can't do it. No, it will drive me mad. Oh, heaven! -that I was ever born to see this day." Then rocking her body back and -forward in a transport of agony, she gave full vent to her feelings in a -long, loud, piteous wail. Oh, God! that cry of grief, that knell of a -breaking heart, rang in my ears for many long and painful days. At -length Aunt Kitty approached me, and, laying her hand on my shoulder, -kindly said: - -"Alas, poor chile, you mus' place your trus' in the good God above, you -mus' look to Him for help; you are gwine to leave your mother now. You -are to have a new home, a new master, and I hope new friends. May the -Lord be with you." So saying, she broke suddenly away from me; but I saw -that her wrinkled face was wet with tears. - -With perhaps an idle, listless air, I received this astounding news; -but a whirlwind was gathering in my breast. What could she mean by new -friends and a new home? Surely I was to take my mother with me! No -mortal power would dare to sever _us_. Why, I remember that when master -sold the gray mare, the colt went also. Who could, who would, who dared, -separate the parent from her offspring? Alas! I had yet to learn that -the white man dared do all that his avarice might suggest; and there was -no human tribunal where the outcast African could pray for "right!" Ah, -when I now think of my poor mother's form, as it swayed like a willow in -the tempest of grief; when I remember her bitter cries, and see her arms -thrown franticly toward me, and hear her earnest--oh, how -earnest--prayer for death or madness, then I wonder where were Heaven's -thunderbolts; but retributive Justice _will_ come sooner or later, and -He who remembers mercy _now_ will not forget justice _then_. - -"Come along, gal, come along, gather up your duds, and come with me," -said a harsh voice; and, looking up from my bewildered reverie, I beheld -the man who had so carefully examined me. I was too much startled to -fully understand the words, and stood vacantly gazing at him. This -strange manner he construed into disrespect; and, raising his -riding-whip, he brought it down with considerable force upon my back. It -was the first lash I had ever given to me in anger. I smarted beneath -the stripe, and a cry of pain broke from my lips. Mother sprang to me, -and clasping my quivering form in her arms, cried out to my young -master, "Oh, Master Eddy, have mercy on me, on my child. I have served -you faithfully, I nursed you, I grew up with your poor mother, who now -sleeps in the cold ground. I beg you now to save _my child_," and she -sank down at his feet, whilst her tears fell fast. - -Then my poor old grandfather, who was called the patriarch slave, being -the eldest one of the race in the whole neighborhood, joined us. His -gray head, wrinkled face, and bent form, told of many a year of hard -servitude. - -"What is it, Massa Ed, what is it Kaisy be takin' on so 'bout? you -haint driv the _chile_ off? No--no! young massa only playin' trick now; -come Kais' don't be makin' fool of yoursef, young massa not gwine to -separate you and the chile." - -These words seemed to reanimate my mother, and she looked up at Master -Edward with a grateful expression of face, whilst she clasped her arms -tightly around his knees, exclaiming, "Oh, bless you, young master, -bless you forever, and forgive poor Kaisy for distrusting you, but -Pompey told me the child was sold away from me, and that gemman struck -her;" and here again she sobbed, and caught hold of me convulsively, as -if she feared I might be taken. - -I looked at my young master's face, and the ghastly whiteness which -overspread it, the tearful glister of his eye, and the strange tremor of -his figure, struck me with fright. _I knew my doom._ Young as I was, my -first dread was for my mother; I forgot my own perilous situation, and -mourned alone for her. I would have given worlds could insensibility -have been granted her. - -"I've got no time to be foolin' longer with these niggers, come 'long, -gal. Ann, I believe, you tole me was her name," he said, as he turned to -Master Edward. Another wild shriek from my mother, a deep sigh from -grandpap, and I looked at master Ed, who was striking his forehead -vehemently, and the tears were trickling down his cheeks. - -"Here, Mr. Peterkin, here!" exclaimed Master Edward, "here is your bill -of sale; I will refund your money; release me from my contract." - -Peterkin cast on him one contemptuous look, and with a low, chuckling -laugh, replied, "No; you must stand to your bargain. I want that gal; -she is likely, and it will do me good to thrash the devil out of her;" -turning to me he added, "quit your snuffling and snubbing, or I'll give -you something to cry 'bout;" and, roughly catching me by the arm, he -hurried me off, despite the entreaty of Master Ed, the cries of mother, -and the feeble supplication of my grandfather. I dared to cast one look -behind, and beheld my mother wallowing in the dust, whilst her frantic -cries of "save my child, save my child!" rang with fearful agony in my -ears. Master Ed covered his face with his hands, and old grandfather -reverently raised his to Heaven, as if beseeching mercy. The sight of -this anguish-stricken group filled me with a new sense of horror, and -forgetful of the presence of Peterkin, I burst into tears: but I was -quickly recalled by a fierce and stinging blow from his stout -riding-whip. - -"See here, nigger (this man, raised among negroes, used their dialect), -if you dar' to give another whimper, I'll beat the very life out 'en -yer." This terrific threat seemed to scare away every thought of -precaution; and, by a sudden and agile bound, I broke loose from him and -darted off to the sad group, from which I had been so ruthlessly torn, -and, sinking down before Master Ed, I cried out in a wild, despairing -tone, "Save me, good master, save me--kill me, or hide me from that -awful man, he'll kill me;" and, seizing hold of the skirt of his coat, I -covered my face with it to shut out the sight of Peterkin, whose red -eye-balls were glaring with fury upon me. Oath after oath escaped his -lips. Mother saw him rapidly approaching to recapture me, and, with the -noble, maternal instinct of self-sacrifice, sprang forward only to -receive the heavy blow of his uplifted whip. She reeled, tottered and -sank stunned upon the ground. - -"Thar, take that, you yaller hussy, and cuss yer nigger hide for daring -to raise this rumpus here," he said, as he rapidly strode past her. - -"Gently, Mr. Peterkin," exclaimed Master Edward, "let me speak to her; a -little encouragement is better than force." - -"This is my encouragement for them," and he shook his whip. - -Unheeding him, Master Edward turned to me, saying, "Ann, come now, be a -good girl, go with this gentleman, and be an obedient girl; he will give -you a kind, nice home; sometimes he will let you come to see your -mother. Here is some money for you to buy a pretty head-handkerchief; -now go with him." These kind words and encouraging tones, brought a -fresh gush of tears to my eyes. Taking the half-dollar which he offered -me, and reverently kissing the skirt of his coat, I rejoined Peterkin; -one look at his cold, harsh face, chilled my resolution; yet I had -resolved to go without another word of complaint. I could not suppress a -groan when I passed the spot where my mother lay still insensible from -the effects of the blow. - -One by one the servants, old and young, gave me a hearty shake of the -hand as I passed the place where they were standing in a row for the -inspection of buyers. - -I had nerved myself, and now that the parting from mother was over, I -felt that the bitterness of death was past, and I could meet anything. -Nothing now could be a trial, yet I was touched when the servants -offered me little mementoes and keepsakes. One gave a yard of ribbon, -another a half-paper of pins, a third presented a painted cotton -head-tie; others gave me ginger-cakes, candies, or small coins. Out of -their little they gave abundantly, and, small as were the bestowments, I -well knew that they had made sacrifices to give even so much. I was too -deeply affected to make any other acknowledgment than a nod of the head; -for a choking thickness was gathering in my throat, and a blinding mist -obscured my sight. I did not see my young mistresses, for they had left -the house, declaring they could not bear to witness a spectacle so -revolting to their feelings. - -Upon reaching the gate I observed a red-painted wagon, with an awning of -domestic cotton. Standing near it, and holding the horses, was an old, -worn, scarred, weather-beaten negro man, who instantly took off his hat -as Mr. Peterkin approached. - -"Well, Nace, you see I've bought this wench to-day," and he shook his -whip over my head. - -"Ya! ya! Massa, but she ha' got one goot home wid yer." - -"Yes, has she, Nace; but don't yer think the slut has been cryin' 'bout -it!" - -"Lor' bless us, Massa, but a little of the beech-tree will fetch that -sort of truck out of her," and old Nace showed his broken teeth, as he -gave a forced laugh. - -"I guess I can take the fool out en her, by the time I gives her two or -three swings at the whippin'-post." - -Nace shook his head knowingly, and gave a low guttural laugh, by way of -approval of his master's capabilities. - -"Jump in the wagon, gal," said my new master, "jump in quick; I likes to -see niggers active, none of your pokes 'bout me; but this will put -sperit in 'em," and there was another defiant flourish of the whip. - -I got in with as much haste and activity as I could possibly command. -This appeared to please Mr. Peterkin, and he gave evidence of it by -saying,-- - -"Well, that does pretty well; a few stripes a day, and you'll be a -valerble slave;" and, getting in the vehicle himself, he ordered Nace to -drive on "_pretty peart_," as night would soon overtake us. - -Just as we were starting I perceived Josh, one of my playmates, running -after us with a small bundle, shouting,-- - -"Here, Ann, you've lef' yer bundle of close." - -"Stop, Nace," said Mr. Peterkin, "let's git the gal's duds, or I'll be -put to the 'spence of gittin' new ones for her." - -Little Josh came bounding up, and, with an affectionate manner, handed -me the little wallet that contained my entire wardrobe. I leaned -forward, and, in a muffled tone, but with my whole heart hanging on my -lip, asked Josh "how is mother?" but a cut of Nace's whip, and a quick -"gee-up," put me beyond the hearing of the reply. I strained my eyes -after Josh, to interpret the motion of his lips. - -In a state of hopeless agony I sat through the remainder of the journey. -The coarse jokes and malignant threats of Mr. Peterkin were answered -with laughing and dutiful assent by the veteran Nace. I tried to deceive -my persecutors by feigning sleep, but, ah, a strong finger held my lids -open, and slumber fled away to gladden lighter hearts and bless brighter -eyes. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -A VIEW OF THE NEW HOME. - - -The young moon had risen in mild and meek serenity to bless the earth. -With a strange and fluctuating light the pale rays played over the -leaves and branches of the forest trees, and flickered fantastically -upon the ground! Only a few stars were discernible in the highest dome -of heaven! The lowing of wandering cows, or the chirp of a night-bird, -had power to beguile memory back to a thousand vanished joys. I mused -and wept; still the wagon jogged along. Mr. Peterkin sat half-sleeping -beside old Nace, whose occasional "gee-up" to the lagging horses, was -the only human sound that broke the soft serenity! Every moment seemed -to me an age, for I dreaded the awakening of my cruel master. Ah, little -did I dream that that horrid day's experience was but a brief foretaste -of what I had yet to suffer; and well it was for me that a kind and -merciful Providence veiled that dismal future from my gaze. About -midnight I had fallen into a quiet sleep, gilded by the sweetest dream, -a dream of the old farm-house, of mother, grandfather, and my -companions. - -From this vision I was aroused by the gruff voice of Peterkin, bidding -me get out of the wagon. That voice was to me more frightful and fearful -than the blast of the last trump. Springing suddenly up, I threw off the -shackles of sleep; and consciousness, with all its direful burden, -returned fully to me. Looking round, by the full light of the moon, I -beheld a large country house, half hidden among trees. A white paling -enclosed the ground, and the scent of dewy roses and other garden -flowers filled the atmosphere. - -"Now, Nace, put up the team, and git yourself to bed," said Peterkin. -Turning to me he added, "give this gal a blanket, and let her sleep on -the floor in Polly's cabin; keep a good watch on her, that she don't try -to run off." - -"Needn't fear dat, Massa, for de bull-dog tear her to pieces if she -'tempt dat. By gar, I'd like to see her be for tryin' it;" and the old -negro gave a fiendish laugh, as though he thought it would be rare -sport. - -Mr. Peterkin entered the handsome house, of which he was the rich and -respected owner, whilst I, conducted by Nace, repaired to a dismal -cabin. After repeated knocks at the door of this most wretched hovel, an -old crone of a negress muttered between her clenched teeth, "Who's dar?" - -"It's me, Polly; what you be 'bout dar, dat you don't let me in?" - -"What for you be bangin' at my cabin? I's got no bisness wid you." - -"Yes, but I's got bisness wid you; stir yer ole stumps now." - -"I shan't be for troublin' mysef and lettin' you in my cabin at dis hour -ob de night-time; and if you doesn't be off, I'll make Massa gib you a -sound drubbin' in de mornin'." - -"Ha, ha! now I'm gots you sure; for massa sends me here himsef." - -This was enough for Polly; she broke off all further colloquy, and -opened the door instantly. - -The pale moonlight rested as lovingly upon that dreary, unchinked, rude, -and wretched hovel, as ever it played over the gilded roof and frescoed -dome of ancient palaces; but ah, what squalor did it not reveal! There, -resting upon pallets of straw, like pigs in a litter, were groups of -children, and upon a rickety cot the old woman reposed her aged limbs. -How strange, lonely, and forbidding appeared that tenement, as the old -woman stood in the doorway, her short and scanty kirtles but poorly -concealing her meagre limbs. A dark, scowling countenance looked out -from under a small cap of faded muslin; little bleared eyes glared upon -me, like the red light of a heated furnace. Instinctively I shrank back -from her, but Nace was tired, and not wishing to be longer kept from -his bed, pushed me within the door, saying-- - -"Thar, Polly, Massa say dat gal mus' sleep in dar." - -"Come 'long in, gal," said the woman, and closing the door, she pointed -to a patch of straw, "sleep dar." - -The moonbeams stole in through the crevices and cracks of the cabin, and -cast a mystic gleam upon the surrounding objects. Without further word -or comment, Polly betook herself to her cot, and was soon snoring away -as though there were no such thing as care or slavery in the world. But -to me sleep was a stranger. There I lay through the remaining hours of -the night, wearily thinking of mother and home. "Sold," I murmured. -"What is it to be sold? Why was _I_ sold? Why separated from my mother -and friends? Why couldn't mother come with me, or I stay with her? I -never saw Mr. Peterkin before. Who gave him the right to force me from -my good home and kind friends?" These questions would arise in my mind, -and, alas! I had no answers for them. Young and ignorant as I was, I had -yet some glimmering idea of justice. Later in life, these same questions -have often come to me, as sad commentaries upon the righteousness of -human laws; and, when sitting in splendid churches listening to ornate -and _worldly_ harangues from _holy men_, these same thoughts have -tingled upon my tongue. And I have been surprised to see how strangely -these men mistake the definition of servitude. Why, from the exposition -of the worthy divines, one would suppose that servitude was a fair -synonym for slavery! Admitting that we are the descendants of the -unfortunate Ham, and endure our bondage as the penalty affixed to his -crime, there can be no argument or fact adduced, whereby to justify -slavery as a moral right. Serving and being a slave are very different. -And why may not Ham's descendants claim a reprieve by virtue of the -passion and death of Christ? Are we excluded from the grace of that -atonement? No; there is no argument, no reason, to justify slavery, save -that of human cupidity. But there will come a day, when each and every -one who has violated that divine rule, "Do unto others as you would -have them do unto you," will stand with a fearful accountability before -the Supreme Judge. Then will there be loud cries and lamentations, and a -wish for the mountains to hide them from the eye of Judicial Majesty. - -The next morning I rose with the dawn, and sitting upright upon my -pallet, surveyed the room and its tenants. There, in comfortless -confusion, upon heaps of straw, slumbered five children, dirty and -ragged. On the broken cot, with a remnant of a coverlet thrown over her, -lay Aunt Polly. A few broken stools and one pine box, with a shelf -containing a few tins, constituted the entire furniture. - -"And this wretched pen is to be my home; these dirty-looking children my -associates." Oh, how dismal were my thoughts; but little time had I for -reflection. The shrill sound of a hunting-horn was the summons for the -servants to arise, and woe unto him or her who was found missing or -tardy when the muster-roll was called. Aunt Polly and the five children -sprang up, and soon dressed themselves. They then appeared in the yard, -where a stout, athletic man, with full beard and a dull eye, stood with -whip in hand. He called over the names of all, and portioned out their -daily task. With a smile more of terror than pleasure, they severally -received their orders. I stood at the extremity of the range. After -disposing of them in order, the overseer (for such he was) looked at me -fiercely, and said: - -"Come here, gal." - -With a timid step, I obeyed. - -"What are you fit for? Not much of anything, ha?" and catching hold of -my ear he pulled me round in front of him, saying, - -"Well, you are likely-looking; how much work can you do?" - -I stammered out something as to my willingness to do anything that was -required of me. He examined my hands, and concluding from their -dimensions that I was best suited for house-work, he bade me remain in -the kitchen until after breakfast. When I entered the room designated, -par politesse, as the kitchen, I was surprised to find such a desolate -and destitute-looking place. The apartment, which was very small, seemed -to be a sort of Pandora's Box, into which everything of household or -domestic use had been crowded. The walls were hung round with saddles, -bridles, horse-blankets, &c. Upon a swinging shelf in the centre of the -room were ranged all the seeds, nails, ropes, dried elms, and the rest -of the thousand and one little notions of domestic economy. A rude, -wooden shelf contained a dark, dusty row of unclean tins; broken stools -and old kegs were substituted for chairs; upon these were stationed four -or five ebony children; one of them, a girl about nine years old, with a -dingy face, to which soap and water seemed foreign, and with shaggy, -moppy hair, twisted in short, stringy plaits, sat upon a broken keg, -with a squalid baby in her lap, which she jostled upon her knee, whilst -she sang in a sharp key, "hushy-by-baby." Three other wretched children, -in tow-linen dresses, whose brevity of skirts made a sad appeal to the -modesty of spectators, were perched round this girl, whom they called -Amy. They were furiously begging Aunt Polly (the cook) to give them a -piece of hoe-cake. - -"Be off wid you, or I'll tell Massa, or de overseer," answered the -beldame, as their solicitations became more clamorous. This threat had -power to silence the most earnest demands of the stomach, for the fiend -of hunger was far less dreaded than the lash of Mr. Jones, the overseer. -My entrance, and the sight of a strange face, was a diversion for them. -They crowded closer to Amy, and eyed me with a half doubtful, and -altogether ludicrous air. - -"Who's her?" "whar she come from?" "when her gwyn away?" and such like -expressions, escaped them, in stifled tones. - -"Come in, set down," said Aunt Polly to me, and, turning to the group of -children, she levelled a poker at them. - -"Keep still dar, or I'll break your pates wid dis poker." - -Instantly they cowered down beside Amy, still peeping over her -shoulder, to get a better view of me. With a very uneasy feeling I -seated myself upon the broken stool, to which Aunt Polly pointed. One of -the boldest of the children came up to me, and, slyly touching my dress, -said, "tag," then darted off to her hiding-place, with quite the air of -a victress. Amy made queer grimaces at me. Every now and then placing -her thumb to her nose, and gyrating her finger towards me, she would -drawl out, "you ka-n-t kum it." All this was perfect jargon to me; for -at home, though we had been but imperfectly protected by clothing from -the vicissitudes of seasons, and though our fare was simple, coarse, and -frugal, had we been kindly treated, and our manners trained into -something like the softness of humanity. There, as regularly as the -Sunday dawned, were we summoned to the house to hear the Bible read, and -join (though at a respectful distance) with the family in prayer. But -this I subsequently learned was an unusual practice in the neighborhood, -and was attributed to the fact, that my master's wife had been born in -the State of Massachusetts, where the people were crazy and fanatical -enough to believe that "niggers" had souls, and were by God held to be -responsible beings. - -The loud blast of the horn was the signal for the "hands" to suspend -their labor and come to breakfast. Two negro men and three women rushed -in at the door, ravenous for their rations. I looked about for the -table, but, seeing none, concluded it had yet to be arranged; for at -home we always took our meals on a table. I was much surprised to see -each one here take a slice of fat bacon and a pone of bread in his or -her hand, and eat it standing. - -"Well," said one man, "I'd like to git a bit more bread." - -"You's had your sher," replied Aunt Polly. "Mister Jones ses one slice -o' meat and a pone o' bread is to be the 'lowance." - -"I knows it, but if thar's any scraps left from the house table, you -wimmin folks always gits it." - -"Who's got de bes' right? Sure, and arn't de one who cooks it got de -bes' right to it?" asked Polly, with a triumphant voice. - -"Ha, ha!" cried Nace, "here comes de breakfust leavin's, now who's -smartest shall have 'em;" whereupon Nace, his comrade, and the three -women, seized a waiter of fragments of biscuit, broiled ham, coffee, -&c., the remains of the breakfast prepared for the white family. - -"By gar," cried Nace, "I've got de coffee-pot, and I'll drink dis;" so, -without further ceremony, he applied the spout to his mouth, and, sans -cream or sugar, he quaffed off the grounds. Jake possessed himself of -the ham, whilst the two women held a considerable contest over a -biscuit. Blow and lie passed frequently between them. Aunt Polly -brandished her skimmer-spoon, as though it were Neptune's trident of -authority; still she could not allay the confusion which these excited -cormorants raised. The children yelled out and clamored for a bit; the -sight and scent of ham and biscuits so tantalized their palates, that -they forgot even the terror of the whip. I stood all agape, looking on -with amazement. - -The two belligerent women stood with eyes blazing like comets, their -arms twisted around each other in a very decided and furious rencontre. -One of them, losing her balance, fell upon the floor, and, dragging the -other after her, they rolled and wallowed in a cloud of dust, whilst the -disputed biscuit, in the heat of the affray, had been dropped on the -hearth, where, unperceived by the combatants, Nace had possessed himself -of it, and was happily masticating it. - -Melinda, the girl from whom the waiter had been snatched, doubtless much -disappointed by the loss of the debris, returned to the house and made a -report of the fracas. - -Instantly and unexpectedly, Jones, flaming with rage, stood in the midst -of the riotous group. Seizing hold of the women, he knocked them on -their heads with his clenched fists. - -"Hold, black wretches, come, I will give you a leetle fun; off now to -the post." - -Then such appeals for mercy, promises of amendment, entreaties, excuses, -&c., as the two women made, would have touched a heart of stone; but -Jones had power to resist even the prayers of an angel. To him the -cries of human suffering and the agony of distress were music. My heart -bled when I saw the two victims led away, and I put my hands to my ears -to shut out the screams of distress which rang with a strange terror on -the morning air. Poor, oppressed African! thorny and rugged is your path -of life! Many a secret sigh and bleeding tear attest your cruel -martyrdom! Surely He, who careth alike for the high and the low, looks -not unmoved upon you, wearing and groaning beneath the pressing burden -and galling yoke of a most inhuman bondage. For you there is no broad -rock of Hope or Peace to cast its shadow of rest in this "weary land." -You must sow in tears and reap in sorrow. But He, who led the children -of Israel from the house of bondage and the fetters of captivity, will, -in His own inscrutable way, lead you from the condition of despair, even -by the pillar of fire and the cloud. Great changes are occurring daily, -old constitutions are tottering, old systems, fraught with the cruelty -of darker ages, are shaking to their centres. Master minds are -everywhere actively engaged. Keen eyes and vigilant hearts are open to -the wrongs of the poor, the lowly and the outcast. An avenging angel -sits concealed 'mid the drapery of the wasting cloud, ready to pour the -vials of God's wrath upon a haughty and oppressive race. In the -threatened famine, see we nothing but an accidental failure of the -crops? In the exhausted coffers and empty public treasury, is there -nothing taught but the lesson of national extravagance? In the virulence -of disease, the increasing prevalence of fatal epidemics, what do we -read? Send for the seers, the wise men of the nation, and bid them -translate the "mysterious writing on the wall." Ah, well may ye shake, -Kings of Mammon, shake upon your tottering throne of human bones! Give -o'er your sports, suspend your orgies, dash down the jewelled cup of -unhallowed joy, sparkling as it is to the very brim. You must pay, like -him of old, the fearful price of sin. God hath not heard, unmoved, the -anguished cries of a down-trodden and enslaved nation! And it needs no -Daniel to tell, that "God hath numbered your Kingdom and it is -finished." - -As may be supposed, I had little appetite for my breakfast, but I -managed to deceive others into the belief that I had made a hearty meal. -But those screams from half-famished wretches had a fatal and terrifying -fascination; never once could I forget it. - -A look of fright was on the face of all. "They be gettin' awful beatin' -at the post," muttered Nace, whilst a sardonic smile flitted over his -hard features. Was it not sad to behold the depths of degradation into -which this creature had fallen? He could smile at the anguish of a -fellow-creature. Originally, his nature may have been kind and gentle; -but a continuous system of brutality had so deadened his sensibilities, -that he had no humanity left. _For this_, the white man is accountable. - -After the breakfast was over, I received a summons to the house. -Following Melinda, I passed the door-sill, and stood in the presence of -the assembled household. A very strange group I thought them. Two girls -were seated beside the uncleared breakfast table, "trying their fortune" -(as the phrase goes) with a cup of coffee-grounds and a spoon. The elder -of the two was a tall, thin girl, with sharp features, small gray eyes, -and red-hair done up in frizettes; the other was a prim, dark-skinned -girl, with a set of nondescript features, and hair of no particular hue, -or "just any color;" but with the same harsh expression of face that -characterized the elder. As she received the magic cup from her sister, -she exclaimed, "La, Jane, it will only be two years until you are -married," and made a significant grimace at her father (Mr. Peterkin), -who sat near the window, indulging in the luxury of a cob-pipe. The -taller girl turned toward me, and asked, - -"Father, is that the new girl you bought at old Nelson's sale?" - -"Yes, that's the gal. Does she suit you?" - -"Yes, but dear me! how very light she is--almost white! I know she will -be impudent." - -"She has come to the wrong place for the practice of that article," -suggested the other. - -"Yes, gal, you has got to mind them ar' _wimmen_," said Mr. Peterkin to -me, as he pointed toward his daughters. - -"Father, I do wish you would quit that vulgarism; say _girl_, not gal, -and _ladies_, not women." - -"Oh, I was never _edicated_, like you." - -"_Educated_ is the word." - -"Oh, confound your dictionaries! Ever since that school-marm come out -from Yankee-land, these neighborhood gals talk so big, nobody can -understand 'em." - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -THE YANKEE SCHOOL-MISTRESS--HER PHILOSOPHY--THE AMERICAN ABOLITIONISTS. - - -The family with whom I now found a home, consisted of Mr. Peterkin and -his two daughters, Jane and Matilda, and a son, John, much younger than -the ladies. - -The death of Mrs. Peterkin had occurred about three years before I went -to live with them. The girls had been very well educated by a Miss -Bradly, from Massachusetts, a spinster of "no particular age." From her, -the Misses Peterkin learned to set a great value upon correct and -elegant language. She was the model and instructress of the country -round; for, under her jurisdiction, nearly all the farmers' daughters -had been initiated into the mysteries of learning. Scattered about, over -the house, I used to frequently find odd leaves of school-books, -elementary portions of natural sciences, old readers, story-books, -novels, &c. These I eagerly devoured; but I had to be very secret about -it, studying by dying embers, reading by moonlight, sun-rise, &c. Had I -been discovered, a severe punishment would have followed. Miss Jane used -to say, "a literary negro was disgusting, not to be tolerated." Though -she quarrelled with the vulgar talk and bad pronunciation of her father, -he was made of too rough material to receive a polish; and, though Miss -Bradly had improved the minds of the girls, her efforts to soften their -hearts had met with no success. They were the same harsh, cold and -selfish girls that she had found them. It was Jane's boast that she had -whipped more negroes than any other girl of her age. Matilda, though -less severe, had still a touch of the tigress. - -This family lived in something like "style." They were famed for their -wealth and social position throughout the neighborhood. The house was a -low cottage structure, with large and airy apartments; an arching piazza -ran the whole length of the building, and around its trellised -balustrade the clematis vine twined in rich luxuriance. A primrose-walk -led up to the door, and the yard blossomed like a garden, with the -fairest flowers. It was a very Paradise of homes; pity, ah pity 'twas, -that human fiends marred its beauty. There the sweet flowers bloomed, -the young birds warbled, pure springs gushed forth with limpid -joy--there truly, "All, save the spirit of man, was divine." The -traveller often paused to admire the tasteful arrangements of the -grounds, the neat and artistic plan of the house, and the thorough "air" -of everything around. It seemed to bespeak refined minds, and delicate, -noble natures; but oh, the flowers were no symbols of the graces of -their hearts, for the dwellers of this highly-adorned spot were people -of coarse natures, rough and cruel as barbarians. The nightly stars and -the gentle moon, the deep glory of the noontide, or the blowing of -twilight breezes over this chosen home, had no power to ennoble or -elevate their souls. Acts of diabolical cruelty and wickedness were -there perpetrated without the least pang of remorse or regret. Whilst -the white portion of the family were revelling in luxury, the slaves -were denied the most ordinary necessaries. The cook, who prepared the -nicest dainties, the most tempting viands, had to console herself with a -scanty diet, coarse enough to shock even a beggar. What wonder, then, if -the craving of the stomach should allow her no escape from downright -theft! Who is there that could resist? Where is the honesty that could -not, under such circumstances, find an argument to justify larceny? - -Every evening Miss Bradly came to spend an hour or so with them. The -route from the school to her boarding-house wound by Mr. Peterkin's -residence, and the temptation to talk to the young ladies, who were -emphatically the belles of the neighborhood, was too great for -resistance. This lady was of that class of females which we meet in -every quarter of the globe,--of perfectly kind intentions, yet without -the independence necessary for their open and free expression. Bred in -the North, and having from her infancy imbibed the spirit of its free -institutions, in her secret soul she loathed the abomination of slavery, -every pulse of her heart cried out against it, yet with a strange -compliance she lived in its midst, never once offering an objection or -an argument against it. It suited _her policy_ to laugh with the -pro-slavery man at the fanaticism of the Northern Abolitionist. With a -Judas-like hypocrisy, she sold her conscience for silver; and for a mess -of pottage, bartered the noble right of free expression. 'Twas she, base -renegade from a glorious cause, who laughed loudest and repeated -wholesale libels and foul aspersions upon the able defenders of -abolition--noble and generous men, lofty philanthropists, who are -willing, for the sake of principle, to wear upon their brows the mark of -social and political ostracism! But a day is coming, a bright millennial -day, when the names of these inspired prophets shall be inscribed -proudly upon the litany of freedom; when their noble efforts for social -reform shall be told in wondering pride around the winter's fire. Then -shall their fame shine with a glory which no Roman tradition can -eclipse. Freed from calumny, the names of Parker, Seward and Sumner, -will be ranked, as they deserve to be, with Washington, Franklin and -Henry. All glory to the American Abolitionists. Though they must now -possess their souls in patience, and bear the brand of social -opprobrium, yet will posterity accord them the meed of everlasting -honor. They "who sow in dishonor shall be raised in glory." Already the -watchman upon the tower has discerned the signal. A light beameth in the -East, which no man can quench. A fire has broken forth, which needs only -a breath to fan it into a flame. The eternal law of sovereign right will -vindicate itself. In the hour of feasting and revelry the dreadful bolt -of retribution fell upon Gomorrah. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -CONVERSATION WITH MISS BRADLY--A LIGHT BREAKS THROUGH THE DARKNESS. - - -I had been living with Mr. Peterkin about three years, during which time -I had frequently seen Miss Bradly. One evening when she called (as was -her custom after the adjournment of school), she found, upon inquiry, -that the young ladies had gone out, and would not probably be back for -several hours. She looked a little disconcerted, and seemed doubtful -whether she would go home or remain. I had often observed her -attentively watching me, yet I could not interpret the look; sometimes I -thought it was of deep, earnest pity. Then it appeared only an anxious -curiosity; and as commiseration was a thing which I seldom met with, I -tried to guard my heart against anything like hope or trust; but on this -afternoon I was particularly struck by her strange and irresolute -manner. She turned several times as if to leave, then suddenly stopped, -and, looking very earnestly at me, asked, "Did you say the girls would -not return for several hours?" - -Upon receiving an answer in the affirmative, she hesitated a moment, and -then inquired for Mr. Peterkin. He was also from home, and would -probably be absent for a day or two. "Is there no white person about the -place?" she asked, with some trepidation. - -"No one is here but the slaves," I replied, perhaps in a sorrowful tone, -for the word "slave" always grated upon my ear, yet I frequently used -it, in obedience to a severe and imperative conventionality. - -"Well then, Ann, come and sit down near me; I want to talk with you -awhile." - -This surprised me a great deal. I scarcely knew what to do. The very -idea of sitting down to a conversation with a white lady seemed to me -the wildest improbability. A vacant stare was the only answer I could -make. Certainly, I did not dream of her being in earnest. - -"Come on, Ann," she said, coaxingly; but, seeing that my amazement -increased, she added, in a more persuasive tone, "Don't be afraid, I am -a friend to the colored race." - -This seemed to me the strangest fiction. A white lady, and yet a friend -to the colored race! Oh, impossible! such condescension was unheard of! -What! she a refined woman, with a snowy complexion, to stoop from her -proud elevation to befriend the lowly Ethiopian! Why, she could not, she -dare not! Almost stupefied with amazement, I stood, with my eyes -intently fixed upon her. - -"Come, child," she said, in a kind tone, and placing her hand upon my -shoulder, she endeavored to seat me beside her, "look up,--be not -ashamed, for I am truly your friend. Your down-cast look and melancholy -manner have often struck me with sorrow." - -To this I could make no reply. Utterance was denied me. My tongue clove -to the roof of my mouth; a thick, filmy veil gathered before my sight; -and there I stood like one turned to stone. But upon being frequently -reassured by her gentle manner and kind words, I at length controlled my -emotions, and, seating myself at her feet, awaited her communication. - -"Ann, you are not happy here?" - -I said nothing, but she understood my look. - -"Were you happy at home?" - -"I was;" and the words were scarcely audible. - -"Did they treat you kindly there?" - -"Indeed they did; and there I had a mother, and was not lonely." - -"They did not beat you?" - -"No, no, they did not," and large tears gushed from my burning -eyes;--for I remembered with anguish, how many a smarting blow had been -given to me by Mr. Jones, how many a cuff by Mr. Peterkin, and ten -thousand knocks, pinches, and tortures, by the young ladies. - -"Don't weep, child," said Miss Bradly, in a soothing tone, and she laid -her arm caressingly around my neck. This kindness was too much for my -fortitude, and bursting through all restraints I gave vent to my -feelings in a violent shower of tears. She very wisely allowed me some -time for the gratification of this luxury. I at length composed myself, -and begged her pardon for this seeming disrespect. - -"But ah, my dear lady, you have spoken so kindly to me that I forgot -myself." - -"No apology, my child, I tell you again that I am your friend, and with -me you can be perfectly free. Look upon me as a sister; but now that -your excited feelings have become allayed, let me ask you why your -master sold you?" - -I explained to her that it was necessary to the equal division of the -estate that some of the slaves should be sold, and that I was among the -number. - -"A bad institution is this one of slavery. What fearful entailments of -anguish! Manage it as the most humane will, or can, still it has -horrible results. Witness your separation from your mother. Did these -thoughts never occur to you?" - -I looked surprised, but dared not tell her that often had vague doubts -of the justice of slavery crossed my mind. Ah, too much I feared the -lash, and I answered only by a mournful look of assent. - -"Ann, did you never hear of the Abolition Society?" - -I shook my head. She paused, as if doubtful of the propriety of making a -disclosure; but at length the better principle triumphed, and she said, -"There is in the Northern States an organization which devotes its -energies and very life to the cause of the slave. They wish to abolish -the shameful system, and make you and all your persecuted race as free -and happy as the whites." - -"Does there really exist such a society; or is it only a wild fable -that you tell me, for the purpose of allaying my present agony?" - -"No, child; I do not deceive you. This noble and beneficent society -really lives; but it does not, I regret to say, flourish as it should." - -"And why?" I asked, whilst a new wonder was fastening on my mind. - -"Because," she answered, "the larger portion of the whites are mean and -avaricious enough to desire, for the sake of pecuniary aggrandizement, -the enslavement of a race, whom the force of education and hereditary -prejudice have taught them to regard as their own property." - -I did but dimly conceive her meaning. A slow light was breaking through -my cloudy brain, kindling and inflaming hopes that now shine like -beacons over the far waste of memory. Should I, could I, ever be _free_? -Oh, bright and glorious dream! how it did sparkle in my soul, and cheer -me through the lonely hours of bondage! This hope, this shadow of a -hope, shone like a mirage far away upon the horizon of a clouded future. - -Miss Bradly looked thoughtfully at me, as if watching the effect of her -words; but she could not see that the seed which she had planted, -perhaps carelessly, was destined to fructify and flourish through the -coming seasons. I longed to pour out my heart to her; for she had, by -this ready "sesame," unlocked its deepest chambers. I dared not unfold -even to her the wild dreams and strange hopes which I was indulging. - -I spied Melinda coming up, and signified to Miss Bradly that it would be -unsafe to prolong the conversation, and quickly she departed; not, -however, without reassuring me of the interest which she felt in my -fate. - -"What was Miss Emily Bradly talking wid you 'bout?" demanded Melinda, in -a surly tone. - -"Nothing that concerns you," I answered. - -"Well, but you'll see that it consarns yerself, when I goes and tells -Masser on you." - -"What can you tell him on me?" - -"Oh, I knows, I hearn you talking wid dat ar' woman;" and she gave a -significant leer of her eye, and lolled her tongue out of her mouth, à -la mad dog. - -I was much disturbed lest she had heard the conversation, and should -make a report of it, which would redound to the disadvantage of my new -friend. I went about my usual duties with a slow and heavy heart; still, -sometimes, like a star shining through clouds, was that little bright -hope of liberty. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -A FASHIONABLE TEA-TABLE--TABLE-TALK--AUNT POLLY'S EXPERIENCE--THE -OVERSEER'S AUTHORITY--THE WHIPPING-POST--TRANSFIGURING POWER OF DIVINE -FAITH. - - -That evening when the family returned, I was glad to find the young -ladies in such an excellent humor. It was seldom Miss Jane, whose -peculiar property I was, ever gave me a kind word; and I was surprised -on this occasion to hear her say, in a somewhat gentle tone: - -"Well, Ann, come here, I want you to look very nice to-night, and wait -on the table in style, for I am expecting company;" and, with a sort of -half good-natured smile, she tossed an old faded neck-ribbon to me, -saying, - -"There is a present for you." I bowed low, and made a respectful -acknowledgment of thanks, which she received in an unusually complacent -manner. - -Immediately I began to make arrangements for supper, and to get myself -in readiness, which was no small matter, as my scanty wardrobe furnished -no scope for the exercise of taste. In looking over my trunk, I found a -white cotton apron, which could boast of many mice-bites and -moth-workings; but with a needle and thread I soon managed to make it -appear decent, and, combing my hair as neatly as possible, and tying the -ribbon which Miss Jane had given me around it, I gave the finishing -touch to my toilette, and then set about arranging the table. I assorted -the tea-board, spoons, cups, saucers, &c., placed a nice damask napkin -at each seat, and turned down the round little plates of white French -china. The silver forks and ivory-handled knives were laid round the -table in precise order. This done, I surveyed my work with an air of -pride. Smiling complacently to myself, I proceeded to Miss Jane's room, -to request her to come and look at it, and express her opinion. - -On reaching her apartment, I found her dressed with great care, in a -pink silk, with a rich lace berthé, and pearl ornaments. Her red hair -was oiled until its fiery hue had darkened into a becoming auburn, and -the metallic polish of the French powder had effectually concealed the -huge freckles which spotted her cheeks. - -Dropping a low courtesy, I requested her to come with me to the -dining-room and inspect my work. With a smile, she followed, and upon -examination, seemed well pleased. - -"Now, Ann, if you do well in officiating, it will be well for you; but -if you fail, if you make one mistake, you had better never been born, -for," and she grasped me strongly by the shoulder, "I will flay you -alive; you shall ache and smart in every limb and nerve." - -Terror-stricken at this threat, I made the most earnest promises to -exert my very best energies. Yet her angry manner and threatening words -so unnerved me, that I was not able to go on with the work in the same -spirit in which I had begun, for we all know what a paralysis fear is to -exertion. - -I stepped out on the balcony for some purpose, and there, standing at -the end of the gallery, but partially concealed by the clematis -blossoms, stood Miss Jane, and a tall gentleman was leaning over the -railing talking very earnestly to her. In that uncertain light I could -see the flash of her eye and the crimson glow of her cheek. She was -twirling and tearing to pieces, petal by petal, a beautiful rose which -she held in her hand. Here, I thought here is happiness; this woman -loves and is beloved. She has tasted of that one drop which sweetens the -whole cup of existence. Oh, what a thing it is to be _free_--free and -independent, with power and privilege to go whithersoever you choose, -with no cowardly fear, no dread of espionage, with the right to hold -your head proudly aloft, and return glance for glance, not shrink and -cower before the white man's look, as we poor slaves _must_ do. But not -many moments could I thus spend in thought, and well, perhaps, it was -for me that duty broke short all such unavailing regrets. - -Hastening back to the dining-room, I gave another inquiring look at the -table, fearful that some article had been omitted. Satisfying myself on -this point, I moved on to the kitchen, where Aunt Polly was busy frying -a chicken. - -"Here, child," she exclaimed, "look in thar at them biscuits. See is -they done. Oh, that's prime, browning beautiful-like," she said, as I -drew from the stove a pan of nice biscuits, "and this ar' chicken is -mighty nice. Oh, but it will make the young gemman smack his lips," and -wiping the perspiration from her sooty brow, she drew a long breath, and -seated herself upon a broken stool. - -"Wal, this ar' nigger is tired. I's bin cooking now this twelve years, -and never has I had 'mission' to let my old man come to see me, or I to -go see him." - -The children, with eyes wide open, gathered round Aunt Polly to hear a -recital of her wrongs. "Laws-a-marcy, sights I's seen in my times, and -often it 'pears like I's lost my senses. I tells you, yous only got to -look at this ar' back to know what I's went through." Hereupon she -exposed her back and arms, which were frightfully scarred. - -"This ar' scar," and she pointed to a very deep one on her left -shoulder, "Masser gib me kase I cried when he sold my oldest son; poor -Jim, he was sent down the river, and I've never hearn from him since." -She wiped a stray tear from her old eyes. - -"Oh me! 'tis long time since my eyes hab watered, and now these tears do -feel so quare. Poor Jim is down the river, Johnny is dead, and Lucy is -sold somewhar, so I have neither chick nor child. What's I got to live -fur?" - -This brought fresh to my mind recollections of my own mother's grief, -when she was forced to give me up, and I could not restrain my tears. - -"What fur you crying, child?" she asked. "It puts me in mind ov my poor -little Luce, she used to cry this way whenever anything happened to me. -Oh, many is the time she screamed if master struck me." - -"Poor Aunt Polly," I said, as I walked up to her side, "I do pity you. I -will be kind to you; I'll be your daughter." - -She looked up with a wild stare, and with a deep earnestness seized hold -of my out-stretched hand; then dropping it suddenly, she murmured, - -"No, no, you ain't my darter, you comes to me with saft words, but you -is jest like Lindy and all the rest of 'em; you'll go to the house and -tell tales to the white folks on me. No, I'll not trust any of you." - -Springing suddenly into the room, with his eyes flaming, came Jones, -and, cracking his whip right and left, he struck each of the listening -group. I retreated hastily to an extreme corner of the kitchen, where, -unobserved by him, I could watch the affray. - -"You devilish old wretch, Polly, what are you gabbling and snubbling -here about? Up with your old hide, and git yer supper ready. Don't you -know thar is company in the house?" and here he gave another sharp cut -of the whip, which descended upon that poor old scarred back with a -cruel force, and tore open old cicatriced wounds. The victim did not -scream, nor shrink, nor murmur; but her features resumed their wonted -hard, encrusted expression, and, rising up from her seat, she went on -with her usual work. - -"Now, cut like the wind," he added, as he flourished his whip in the -direction of the young blacks, who had been the interested auditors of -Aunt Polly's hair-breadth escapes, and quick as lightning they were off -to their respective quarters, whilst I proceeded to assist Aunt Polly in -dishing up the supper. - -"This chicken," said I, in a tone of encouragement, "is beautifully -cooked. How brown it is, and oh, what a delightful savory odor." - -"I'll be bound the white folks will find fault wid it. Nobody ever did -please Miss Jane. Her is got some of the most perkuler notions 'bout -cookin'. I knows she'll be kommin' out here, makin' a fuss 'long wid me -'bout dis same supper," and the old woman shook her head knowingly. - -I made no reply, for I feared the re-appearance of Mr. Jones, and too -often and too painfully had I felt the sting of his lash, to be guilty -of any wanton provocation of its severity. - -Silently, but with bitter thoughts curdling my life-blood, did I arrange -the steaming cookies upon the luxurious board, and then, with a -deferential air, sought the parlor, and bade them walk out to tea. - -I found Miss Jane seated near a fine rosewood piano, and standing beside -her was a gentleman, the same whom I had observed with her upon the -verandah. Miss Matilda was at the window, looking out upon the western -heaven. I spoke in a soft tone, asking them, "Please walk out to tea." -The young gentleman rose, and offered his arm to Miss Jane, which was -graciously accepted, and Miss Matilda followed. I swung the dining-room -door open with great pomp and ceremony, for I knew that anything showy -or grand, either in the furniture of a house or the deportment of a -servant, would be acceptable to Miss Jane. Fashion, or style, was the -god of her worship, and she often declared that her principal objection -to the negro, was his great want of style in thought and action. She was -not deep enough to see, that, fathoms down below the surface, in all the -crudity of ignorance, lay a stratum of this same style, so much -worshipped by herself. Does not the African, in his love of gaud, show, -and tinsel, his odd and grotesque decorations of his person, exhibit a -love of style? But she was not philosopher enough to see that this was a -symptom of the same taste, though ungarnished and semi-barbarous. - -The supper passed off very handsomely, so far as my part was concerned. -I carried the cups round on a silver salver to each one; served them -with chicken, plied them with cakes, confections, &c., and interspersed -my performance with innumerable courtesies, bows and scrapes. - -"Ah," said Miss Jane to the gentleman, "ah, Mr. Somerville, you have -visited us at the wrong season; you should be here later in the autumn, -or earlier in the summer," and she gave one of her most benign smiles. - -"Any season is pleasant here," replied Mr. Somerville, as he held the -wing of a chicken between his thumb and fore-finger. Miss Jane simpered -and looked down; and Miss Matilda arched her brows and gave a -significant side-long glance toward her sister. - -"Here, you cussed yallow gal," cried Mr. Peterkin, in a rage, "take this -split spoon away and fetch me a fork what I ken use. These darned things -is only made for grand folks," and he held the silver fork to me. -Instantly I replaced it with a steel one. - -"Now this looks something like. We only uses them ar' other ones when we -has company, so I suppose, Mr. Somerville, the girl sot the table in -this grand way bekase you is here." - -No thunder-cloud was ever darker than Miss Jane's brow. It gathered, and -deepened, and darkened like a thick-coming tempest, whilst lightnings -blazed from her eye. - -"Father," and she spoke through her clenched teeth, "what makes you -affect this horrid vulgarity? and how can you be so very -_idiosyncratic_" (this was a favorite word with her) "as to say you -never use them? Ever since I can remember, silver forks have been used -in our family; but," and she smiled as she said it, "Mr. Somerville, -father thinks it is truly a Kentucky fashion, and in keeping with the -spirit of the early settlers, to rail out against fashion and style." - -To this explanation Mr. Somerville bowed blandly. "Ah, yes, I do admire -your father's honest independence." - -"I'll jist tell you how it is, young man, my gals has bin better -edicated than their pappy, and they pertends to be mighty 'shamed of me, -bekase I has got no larnin'; but I wants to ax 'em one question, whar -did the money kum from that give 'em thar larning?" and with a -triumphant force he brought his hard fist down on the table, knocking -off with his elbow a fine cut-glass tumbler, which was shivered to -atoms. - -"Thar now," he exclaimed, "another piece of yer cussed frippery is -breaked to bits. What did you put it here fur? I wants that big tin-cup -that I drinks out of when nobody's here." - -"Father, father," said Miss Matilda, who until now had kept an austere -silence, "why will you persist in this outrageous talk? Why will you -mortify and torture us in this cruel way?" and she burst into a flood of -angry tears. - -"Oh, don't blubber about it, Tildy, I didn't mean to hurt your -feelin's." - -Pretty soon after this, the peace of the table being broken up, the -ladies and Mr. Somerville adjourned to the parlor, whilst Melinda, or -Lindy, as she was called, and I set about clearing off the table, -washing up the dishes, and gathering and counting over the forks and -spoons. - -Now, though the young ladies made great pretensions to elegance and -splendor of living, yet were they vastly economical when there was no -company present. The silver was all carefully laid away, and locked up -in the lower drawer of an old-fashioned bureau, and the family -appropriated a commoner article to their every-day use; but let a -solitary guest appear, and forthwith the napkins and silver would be -displayed, and treated by the ladies as though it was quite a usual -thing. - -"Now, Ann," said 'Lindy, "you wash the dishes, and I'll count the spoons -and forks." - -To this I readily assented, for I was anxious to get clear of such a -responsible office as counting and assorting the silver ware. - -Mr. Peterkin, or master, as we called him, sat near by, smoking his -cob-pipe in none the best humor; for the recent encounter at the -supper-table was by no means calculated to improve his temper. - -"See here, gals," he cried in a tone of thunder, "if thar be one silver -spoon or fork missin', yer hides shall pay for the loss." - -"Laws, master, I'll be 'tickler enough," replied Lindy, as she smiled, -more in terror than pleasure. - -"Wal," he said, half aloud, "whar is the use of my darters takin' on in -the way they does? Jist look at the sight o' money that has bin laid out -in that ar' tom-foolery." - -This was a sort of soliloquy spoken in a tone audible enough to be -distinct to us. - -He drew his cob-pipe from his mouth, and a huge volume of smoke curled -round his head, and filled the room with the aroma of tobacco. - -"Now," he continued, "they does not treat me wid any perliteness. They -thinks they knows a power more than I does; but if they don't cut their -cards square, I'll cut them short of a nigger or two, and make John all -the richer by it." - -Lindy cut her eye knowingly at this, and gave me rather a strong nudge -with her elbow. - -"Keep still thar, gals, and don't rattle them cups and sassers so -powerful hard." - -By this time Lindy had finished the assortment of the silver, and had -carefully stowed it away in a willow-basket, ready to be delivered to -Miss Jane, and thence consigned to the drawer, where it would remain in -_statu quo_ until the timely advent of another guest. - -"Now," she said, "I am ready to wipe the dishes, while you wash." - -Thereupon I handed her a saucer, which, in her carelessness, she let -slip from her hand, and it fell upon the floor, and there, with great -consternation, I beheld it lying, shattered to fragments. Mr. Peterkin -sprang to his feet, glad of an excuse to vent his temper upon some one. - -"Which of you cussed wretches did this?" - -"'Twas Ann, master! She let it fall afore I got my hand on it." - -Ere I had time to vindicate myself from the charge, his iron arm felled -me to the floor, and his hoof-like foot was placed upon my shrinking -chest. - -"You d--n yallow hussy, does you think I buys such expensive chany-ware -for you to break up in this ar' way? No, you 'bominable wench, I'll have -revenge out of your saffer'n hide. Here, Lindy, fetch me that cowhide." - -"Mercy, master, mercy," I cried, when he had removed his foot from my -breast, and my breath seemed to come again. "Oh, listen to me; it was -not I who broke the saucer, it was only an accident; but oh, in God's -name, have mercy on me and Lindy." - -"Yes, I'll tache you what marcy is. Here, quick, some of you darkies, -bring me a rope and light. I'm goin' to take this gal to the -whippin'-post." - -This overcame me, for, though I had often been cruelly beaten, yet had I -escaped the odium of the "post;" and now for what I had not done, and -for a thing which, at the worst, was but an accident, to bear the -disgrace and the pain of a public whipping, seemed to me beyond -endurance. I fell on my knees before him: - -"Oh, master, please pardon me; spare me this time. I have got a -half-dollar that Master Edward gave me when you bought me, I will give -you that to pay for the saucer, but please do not beat me." - -With a wild, fiendish grin, he caught me by the hair and swung me round -until I half-fainted with pain. - -"No, you wretch, I'll git my satisfaction out of yer body yit, and I'll -be bound, afore this night's work is done, yer yallow hide will be well -marked." - -A deadly, cold sensation crept over me, and a feeling as of crawling -adders seemed possessing my nerves. With all my soul pleading in my eyes -I looked at Mr. Peterkin; but one glance of his fiendish face made my -soul quail with even a newer horror. I turned my gaze from him to Jones, -but the red glare of a demon lighted up his frantic eye, and the words -of a profane bravo were on his lips. From him I turned to poor, -hardened, obdurate old Nace, but he seemed to be linked and leagued with -my torturers. - -"Oh, Lindy," I cried, as she came up with a bunch of cord in her hand, -"be kind, tell the truth, maybe master will forgive you. You are an -older servant, better known and valued in the family. Oh, let your heart -triumph. Speak the truth, and free me from the torture that awaits me. -Oh, think of me, away off here, separated from my mother, with no -friend. Oh, pity me, and do acknowledge that you broke it." - -"Well, you is crazy, you knows dat I never touched de sacer," and she -laughed heartily. - -"Come along wid you all. Now fur fun," cried Nace. - -"Hold your old jaw," said Jones, and he raised his whip. Nace cowered -like a criminal, and made some polite speech to "Massa Jones," and Mr. -Peterkin possessed himself of the rope which Lindy had brought. - -"Now hold yer hands here," he said to me. - -For one moment I hesitated. I could not summon courage to offer my -hands. It was the only resistance that I had ever dared to make. A -severe blow from the overseer's riding-whip reminded me that I was still -a slave, and dared have no will save that of my master. This blow, which -struck the back of my head, laid me half-lifeless upon the floor. Whilst -in this condition old Nace, at the command of his master, bound the rope -tightly around my crossed arms and dragged me to the place of torment. - -The motion or exertion of being pulled along over the ground, restored -me to full consciousness. With a haggard eye I looked up to the still -blue heaven, where the holy stars yet held their silent vigil; and the -serene moon moved on in her starry track, never once heeding the dire -cruelty, over which her pale beam shed its friendly light. "Oh," thought -I, "is there no mercy throned on high? Are there no spirits in earth, -air, or sky, to lend me their gracious influence? Does God look down -with kindness upon injustice like this? Or, does He, too, curse me in my -sorrow, and in His wrath turn away His glorious face from my -supplication, and say 'a servant of servants shalt thou be?'" These -wild, rebellious thoughts only crossed my mind; they did not linger -there. No, like the breath-stain upon the polished surface of the -mirror, they only soiled for a moment the shining faith which in my soul -reflected the perfect goodness of that God who never forgets the -humblest of His children, and who makes no distinction of color or of -race. The consoling promise, "He chasteneth whom He loveth," flashed -through my brain with its blessed assurance, and reconciled me to a -heroic endurance. Far away I strained my gaze to the starry heaven, and -I could almost fancy the sky breaking asunder and disclosing the -wondrous splendors which were beheld by the rapt Apostle on the isle of -Patmos! Oh, transfiguring power of faith! Thou hast a wand more potent -than that of fancy, and a vision brighter than the dreams of -enchantment! What was it that reconciled me to the horrible tortures -which were awaiting me? Surely, 'twas faith alone that sustained me. The -present scene faded away from my vision, and, in fancy, I stood in the -lonely garden of Gethsemane. I saw the darkness and gloom that -overshadowed the earth, when, deserted by His disciples, our blessed -Lord prayed alone. I heard the sighs and groans that burst from his -tortured breast. I saw the bloody sweat, as prostrate on the earth he -lay in the tribulation of mortal agony. I saw the inhuman captors, -headed by one of His chosen twelve, come to seize his sacred person. I -saw his face uplifted to the mournful heavens, as He prayed to His -Father to remove the cup of sorrow. I saw Him bound and led away to -death, without a friend to solace Him. Through the various stages of His -awful passion, even to the Mount of Crucifixion, to the bloody and -sacred Calvary, I followed my Master. I saw Him nailed to the cross, -spit upon, vilified and abused, with the thorny crown pressed upon His -brow. I heard the rabble shout; then I saw the solemn mystery of Nature, -that did attestation to the awful fact that a fiendish work had been -done and the prophecy fulfilled. The vail of the great temple was rent, -the sun overcast, and the moon turned to blood; and in my ecstasy of -passion, I could have shouted, Great is Jesus of Nazareth!! Then I -beheld Him triumphing over the powers of darkness and death, when, robed -in the white garments of the grave, He broke through the rocky -sepulchre, and stood before the affrighted guards. His work was done, -the propitiation had been made, and He went to His Father. This same -Jesus, whom the civilized world now worship as their Lord, was once -lowly, outcast, and despised; born of the most hated people of the -world, belonging to a race despised alike by Jew and Gentile; laid in -the manger of a stable at Bethlehem, with no earthly possessions, having -not whereon to lay His weary head; buffetted, spit upon; condemned by -the high priests and the doctors of law; branded as an impostor, and put -to an ignominious death, with every demonstration of public contempt; -crucified between two thieves; this Jesus is worshipped now by those who -wear purple and fine linen. The class which once scorned Him, now offer -at His shrine frankincense and myrrh; but, in their adoration of the -despised Nazarene, they never remember that He has declared, not once, -but many times, that the poor and the lowly are His people. "Forasmuch -as you did it unto one of these you did it unto me." Then let the -African trust and hope on--let him still weep and pray in Gethsemane, -for a cloud hangs round about him, and when he prays for the removal of -this cup of bondage, let him remember to ask, as his blessed Master did, -"Thy will, oh Father, and not our own, be done;" still trust in Him who -calmed the raging tempest: trust in Jesus of Nazareth! Look beyond the -cross, to Christ. - -These thoughts had power to cheer; and, fortified by faith and religion, -the trial seemed to me easy to bear. One prayer I murmured, and my soul -said to my body, "pass under the rod;" and the cup which my Father has -given me to drink must be drained, even to the dregs. - -In this state of mind, with a moveless eye I looked upon the -whipping-post, which loomed up before me like an ogre. - -This was a quadri-lateral post, about eight feet in height, having iron -clasps on two opposing sides, in which the wrists and ankles were -tightly secured. - -"Now, Lindy," cried Jones, "jerk off that gal's rigging, I am anxious to -put some marks on her yellow skin." - -I knew that resistance was vain; so I submitted to have my clothes torn -from my body; for modesty, so much commended in a white woman, is in a -negro pronounced affectation. - -Jones drew down a huge cow-hide, which he dipped in a barrel of brine -that stood near the post. - -"I guess this will sting," he said, as he flourished the whip toward me. - -"Leave that thin slip on me, Lindy," I ventured to ask; for I dreaded -the exposure of my person even more than the whipping. - -"None of your cussed impedence; strip off naked. What is a nigger's hide -more than a hog's?" cried Jones. Lindy and Nace tore the last article of -clothing from my back. I felt my soul shiver and shudder at this; but -what could I do? I _could pray_--thank God, I could pray! - -I then submitted to have Nace clasp the iron cuffs around my hands and -ankles, and there I stood, a revolting spectacle. With what misery I -listened to obscene and ribald jests from my master and his overseer! - -"Now, Jones," said Mr. Peterkin, "I want to give that gal the first -lick, which will lay the flesh open to the bone." - -"Well, Mr. Peterkin, here is the whip; now you can lay on." - -"No, confound your whip; I wants that cow-hide, and here, let me dip it -well into the brine. I want to give her a real good warmin'; one that -she'll 'member for a long time." - -During this time I had remained motionless. My heart was lifted to God -in silent prayer. Oh, shall I, can I, ever forget that scene? There, in -the saintly stillness of the summer night, where the deep, o'ershadowing -heavens preached a sermon of peace, there I was loaded with contumely, -bound hand and foot in irons, with jeering faces around, vulgar eyes -glaring on my uncovered body, and two inhuman men about to lash me to -the bone. - -The first lick from Mr. Peterkin laid my back open. I writhed, I -wrestled; but blow after blow descended, each harder than the preceding -one. I shrieked, I screamed, I pleaded, I prayed, but there was no mercy -shown me. Mr. Peterkin having fully gratified and quenched his spleen, -turned to Mr. Jones, and said, "Now is yer turn; you can beat her as -much as you please, only jist leave a bit o' life in her, is all I -cares for." - -"Yes; I'll not spile her for the market; but I does want to take a -little of the d----d pride out of her." - -"Now, boys"--for by this time all the slaves on the place, save Aunt -Polly, had assembled round the post--"you will see what a true stroke I -ken make; but darn my buttons if I doesn't think Mr. Peterkin has drawn -all the blood." - -So saying, Jones drew back the cow-hide at arm's length, and, making a -few evolutions with his body, took what he called "sure aim." I closed -my eyes in terror. More from the terrible pain, than from the frantic -shoutings of the crowd, I knew that Mr. Jones had given a lick that he -called "true blue." The exultation of the negroes in Master Jones' -triumph was scarcely audible to my ears; for a cold, clammy sensation -was stealing over my frame; my breath was growing feebler and feebler, -and a soft melody, as of lulling summer fountains, was gently sounding -in my ears; and, as if gliding away on a moonbeam, I passed from all -consciousness of pain. A sweet oblivion, like that sleep which announces -to the wearied, fever-sick patient, that his hour of rest has come, fell -upon me! It was not a dreamful sensibility, filled with the chaos of -fragmentary visions, but a rest where the mind, nay, the very soul, -seemed to sleep with the body. - -How long this stupor lasted I am unable to say; but when I awoke, I was -lying on a rough bed, a face dark, haggard, scarred and worn, was -bending over me. Disfigured as was that visage, it was pleasant to me, -for it was human. I opened my eyes, then closed them languidly, -re-opened them, then closed them again. - -"Now, chile, I thinks you is a leetle better," said the dark-faced -woman, whom I recognized as Aunt Polly; but I was too weak, too -wandering in mind, to talk, and I closed my eyes and slept again. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -RESTORED CONSCIOUSNESS--AUNT POLLY'S ACCOUNT OF MY MIRACULOUS RETURN TO -LIFE--THE MASTER'S AFFRAY WITH THE OVERSEER. - - -When I awoke (for I was afterwards told by my good nurse that I had -slept four days), I was lying on the same rude bed; but a cool, clear -sensation overspread my system. I had full and active possession of my -mental faculties. I rose and sat upright in the bed, and looked around -me. It was the deep hour of night. A little iron lamp was upon the -hearth, and, for want of a supply of oil, the wick was burning low, -flinging a red glare through the dismal room. Upon a broken stool sat -Aunt Polly, her head resting upon her breast, in what nurses call a -"stolen nap." Amy and three other children were sleeping in a bed -opposite me. - -In a few moments I was able to recall the whole of the scenes through -which I had passed, while consciousness remained; and I raised my eyes -to God in gratitude for my partial deliverance from pain and suffering. -Very softly I stole from my bed, and, wrapping an old coverlet round my -shoulders, opened the door, and looked out upon the clear, star-light -night. Of the vague thoughts that passed through my mind I will not now -speak, though they were far from pleasant or consolatory. - -The fresh night air, which began to have a touch of the frost of the -advancing autumn, blew cheerily in the room, and it fell with an -awakening power upon the brow of Aunt Polly. - -"Law, chile, is dat you stannin' in de dor? What for you git up out en -yer warm bed, and go stand in the night-ar?" - -"Because I feel so well, and this pleasant air seems to brace my frame, -and encourage my mind." - -"But sure you had better take to your bed again; you hab had a mighty -bad time ob it." - -"How long have I been sick? It all seems to me like a horrible dream, -from which I have been suddenly and pleasantly aroused." - -As I said this, Aunt Polly drew me from the door, and closing it, she -bade me go to bed. - -"No, indeed, I cannot sleep. I feel wide awake, and if I only had some -one to talk to me, I could sit up all night." - -"Well, bress your heart, I'll talk wid you smack, till de rise ob day," -she said, in such a kind, good-natured tone, that I was surprised, for I -had regarded her only as an ill-natured, miserable beldame. - -Seating myself on a ricketty stool beside her, I prepared for a long -conversation. - -"Tell me what has happened since I have been sick?" I said. "Where are -Miss Jane and Matilda? and where is the young gentleman who supped with -them on that awful night?" - -"Bress you, honey, but 'twas an awful night. Dis ole nigger will neber -forget it long as she libs;" and she bent her head upon her poor old -worn hands, and by the pale, blue flicker of the lamp, I could discern -the rapidly-falling tears. - -"What," thought I, "and this hardened, wretched old woman can weep for -me! Her heart is not all ossified if she can forget her own bitter -troubles, and weep for mine." - -This knowledge was painful, and yet joyful to me. Who of us can refuse -sympathy? Who does not want it, no matter at what costly price? Does it -not seem like dividing the burden, when we know that there is another -who will weep for us? I threw my arms round Aunt Polly. I tightly -strained that decayed and revolting form to my breast, and I inly prayed -that some young heart might thus rapturously go forth, in blessings to -my mother. This evidence of affection did not surprise Aunt Polly, nor -did she return my embrace; but a deep, hollow sigh, burst from her full -heart, and I knew that memory was far away--that, in fancy, she was -with her children, her loved and lost. - -"Come, now," said I, soothingly, "tell me all about it. How did I -suffer? What was done for me? Where is master?" and I shuddered, as I -mentioned the name of my horrible persecutor. - -"Oh, chile, when Masser Jones was done a-beatin' ob yer, dey all ob 'em -tought you was dead; den Masser got orful skeard. He cussed and swore, -and shook his fist in de oberseer's face, and sed he had kilt you, and -dat he was gwine to law wid him 'bout de 'struction ob his property. Den -Masser Jones he swar a mighty heap, and tell Masser he dar' him to go to -law 'bout it. Den Miss Jane and Tilda kum out, and commenced cryin', and -fell to 'busin' Masser Jones, kase Miss Jane say she want to go to de -big town, and take you long wid her fur lady's maid. Den Mr. Jones fell -to busen ob her, and den Masser and him clinched, and fought, and fought -like two big black dogs. Den Masser Jones sticked his great big knife in -Masser's side, and Masser fell down, and den we all tought he was clar -gone. Den away Maser Jones did run, and nobody dared take arter him, for -he had a loaded pistol and a big knife. Den we all on us, de men and -wimmin folks both, grabbed up Masser, and lifted him in de house, and -put him on de bed. Den Jake, he started off fur de doctor, while Miss -Jane and Tilda 'gan to fix Masser's cut side. Law, bress your heart, but -thar he laid wid his big form stretched out just as helpless as a baby. -His face was as white as a ghost, and his eyes shot right tight up. Law -bress you, but I tought his time hab kum den. Well, Lindy and de oder -wimmin was a helpin' ob Miss Jane and Tildy, so I jist tought I would go -and look arter yer body. Thar you was, still tied to de post, all -kivered with blood. I was mighty feared ob you; but den I tought you had -been so perlite, and speaked so kind to me, dat I would take kare ob yer -body; so I tuck you down, and went wid you to de horse-trough, and dere -I poured some cold water ober yer, so as to wash away de clotted blood. -Den de cold water sorter 'vived you, and yer cried out 'oh, me!' Wal -dat did skeer me, and I let you drap right down in de trough, and de way -dis nigger did run, fur de life ob her. Well, as I git back I met Jake, -who had kum back wid de doctor, and I cried out, 'Oh Jake, de spirit ob -Ann done speaked to me!' 'Now, Polly,' says he, 'do hush your nonsense, -you does know dat Ann is done cold dead.' 'Well Jake,' says I, 'I tuck -her down frum de post, and tuck her to the trough to wash her, and -tought I'd fix de body out right nice, in de best close dat she had. -Well, jist as I got de water on it, somping hollowed out, 'oh me!' so -mournful like, dat it 'peared to me it kum out ob de ground. - -"'What fur den you do?' says Jake. 'Why, to be sure, I lef it right dar, -and run as fas' as my feet would carry me.' - -"By dis time de house was full ob de neighbors; all hab collected in de -house, fur de news dat Masser was kilt jist fly trough de neighborhood. -Miss Bradly hearn in de house 'bout de 'raculous 'pearance ob de sperit, -and she kum up to me, and say 'Polly, whar is de body of Ann?' 'Laws, -Miss Bradly, it is out in de trough, I won't go agin nigh to it.' - -"'Well,' say she, 'where is Jake? let him kum along wid me.' - -"'What, you ain't gwine nigh it?' I asked. - -"'Yes I is gwine right up to it,' she say, 'kase I knows thar is life in -it.' Well this sorter holpd me up, so I said, 'well I'll go too.' So we -tuck Jake, and Miss Bradly walked long wid us to de berry spot, and dar -you wus a settin up in de water ob de trough where I seed you; it -skeered me worse den eber, so I fell right down on de ground, and began -to pray to de Lord to hab marcy on us all; but Miss Bradly (she is a -quare woman) walked right up to you, and spoke to you. - -"'Laws,' says Jake, 'jist hear dat ar' woman talking wid a sperit,' and -down he fell, and went to callin on de Angel Gabriel to kum and holp -him. - -"Fust ting I knowed, Miss Bradly was a rollin' her shawl round yer body, -and axed you to walk out ob de trough. - -"Well, tinks I, dese am quare times when a stone-dead nigger gits up -and walks agin like a live one. Well, widout any help from us, Miss -Bradly led you 'long into dis cabin. I followed arter. After while she -kind o' 'suaded me you was a livin'. Den I helped her wash you, and got -her some goose-greese, and we rubbed you all ober, from your head to yer -feet, and den you kind ob fainted away, and I began to run off; but Miss -Bradly say you only swoon, and she tuck a little glass vial out ob her -pocket, and held it to yer nose, and dis bring you to agin. After while -you fell off to sleep, and Miss Bradly bringed de Doctor out ob de house -to look at you. Well, he feel ob yer wrist, put his ear down to yer -breast, den say, 'may be wid care she will git well, but she hab been -powerful bad treated.' He shuck his head, and I knowed what he was -tinkin' 'bout, but I neber say one word. Den Miss Bradly wiped her eyes, -and de Doctor fetch anoder sigh, and say, dis is very 'stressing,' and -Miss Bradly say somepin agin 'slavery,' and de Doctor open ob his eyes -right wide and say, ''tis worth your head, Miss, for to say dat in dis -here country.' Den she kind of 'splained it to him, and tings just -seemed square 'twixt 'em, for she was monstrous skeered like, and turned -white as a sheet. Den I hearn de Doctor say sompin' 'bout ridin' on a -rail, and tar and feaders, and abolutionist. So arter dat, Miss Bradly -went into de house, arter she had bin a tellin' ob me to nurse you well; -dat you was way off hare from yer mammy, so eber sence den you has bin a -lying right dar on dat bed, and I hab nursed you as if you war my own -child." - -I threw my arms around her again, and imprinted kisses upon her rugged -brow; for, though her skin was sooty and her face worn with care, I -believed that somewhere in a silent corner of her tried heart there was -a ray of warm, loving, human feeling. - -"Oh, child," she begun, "can you wid yer pretty yallow face kiss an old -pitch-black nigger like me?" - -"Why, yes, Aunt Polly, and love you too; if your face is dark I am sure -your heart is fair." - -"Well, I doesn't know 'bout dat, chile; once 'twas far, but I tink all -de white man done made it black as my face." - -"Oh no, I can't believe that, Aunt Polly," I replied. - -"Wal, I always hab said dat if dey would cut my finger and cut a white -woman's, dey would find de blood ob de very same color," and the old -woman laughed exultingly. - -"Yes, but, Aunt Polly, if you were to go before a magistrate with a case -to be decided, he would give it against you, no matter how just were -your claims." - -"To be sartin, de white folks allers gwine to do every ting in favor ob -dar own color." - -"But, Aunt Polly," interposed I, "there is a God above, who disregards -color." - -"Sure dare is, and dar we will all ob us git our dues, and den de white -folks will roast in de flames ob old Nick." - -I saw, from a furtive flash of her eye, that all the malignity and -revenge of her outraged nature were becoming excited, and I endeavored -to change the conversation. - -"Is master getting well?" - -"Why, yes, chile, de debbil can't kill him. He is 'termined to live jist -as long as dare is a nigger to torment. All de time he was crazy wid de -fever, he was fightin' wid de niggers--'pears like he don't dream 'bout -nothin' else." - -"Does he sit up now?" I asked this question with trepidation, for I -really dreaded to see him. - -"No, he can't set up none. De doctor say he lost a power o' blood, and -he won't let him eat meat or anyting strong, and I tells you, honey, -Masser does swar a heap. He wants to smoke his pipe, and to hab his -reglar grog, and dey won't gib it to him. It do take Jim and Jake bofe -to hold him in de bed, when his tantarums comes on. He fights dem, he -calls for de oberseer, he orders dat ebery nigger on de place shall be -tuck to de post. I tells you now, I makes haste to git out ob his way. -He struck Jake a lick dat kum mighty nigh puttin' out his eye. It's all -bunged up now." - -"Where did Mr. Somerville go?" I asked. - -"Oh, de young gemman dat dey say is a courtin' Miss Jane, he hab gone -back to de big town what he kum from; but Lindy say Miss Jane got a -great long letter from him, and Lindy say she tink Miss Jane gwine to -marry him." - -"Well, I belong to Miss Jane; I wonder if she will take me with her to -the town." - -"Why, yes, chile, she will, for she do believe in niggers. She wants 'em -all de time right by her side, a waitin' on her." - -This thought set me to speculating. Here, then, was the prospect of -another change in my home. The change might be auspicious; but it would -take me away from Aunt Polly, and remove me from Miss Bradly's -influence; and this I dreaded, for she had planted hopes in my breast, -which must blossom, though at a distant season, and I wished to be often -in her company, so that I might gain many important items from her. - -Aunt Polly, observing me unusually thoughtful, argued that I was sleepy, -and insisted upon my returning to bed. In order to avoid further -conversation, and preserve, unbroken, the thread of my reflections, I -obeyed her. - -Throwing myself carelessly upon the rough pallet, I wandered in fancy -until leaden-winged sleep overcame me. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -AMY'S NARRATIVE, AND HER PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE. - - -When the golden sun had begun to tinge with light the distant tree-tops, -and the young birds to chant their matin hymn, I awoke from my profound -sleep. Wearily I moved upon my pillow, for though my slumber had been -deep and sweet, yet now, upon awaking, I experienced no refreshment. - -Rising up in the bed, and supporting myself upon my elbow, I looked -round in quest of Aunt Polly; but then I remembered that she had to be -about the breakfast. Amy was sitting on the floor, endeavoring to -arrange the clothes on a little toddler, her orphan brother, over whom -she exercised a sort of maternal care. She, her two sisters, and infant -brother, were the orphans of a woman who had once belonged to a brother -of Mr. Peterkin. Their orphanage had not fallen upon them from the -ghastly fingers of death, but from the far more cruel and cold mandate -of human cupidity. A fair, even liberal price had been offered their -owner for their mother, Dilsy, and such a speculation was not to be -resigned upon the score of philanthropy. No, the man who would refuse -nine hundred dollars for a negro woman, upon the plea that she had three -young children and a helpless infant, from whom she must not be -separated, would, in Kentucky, be pronounced insane; and I can assure -you that, on this subject, the brave Kentuckians had good right to -decide, according to their code, that Elijah Peterkin was _compos -mentis_. - -"Amy," said I, as I rubbed my eyes, to dissipate the film and mists of -sleep, "is it very late? have you heard the horn blow for the hands to -come in from work?" - -"No, me hab not hearn it yet, but laws, Ann, me did tink you would -neber talk no more." - -"But you see I am talking now," and I could not resist a smile; "have -you been nursing me?" - -"No, indeed, Aunt Polly wouldn't let me come nigh yer bed, and she keep -all de time washing your body and den rubbin' it wid a feader an' -goose-greese. Oh, you did lay here so still, jist like somebody dead. -Aunt Polly, she wouldn't let one ob us speak one word, sed it would -'sturb you; but I knowed you wasn't gwine to kere, so ebery time she -went out, I jist laughed and talked as much as I want." - -"But did you not want me to get well, Amy?" - -"Why, sartin I did; but my laughin' want gwine to kill you, was it?" She -looked up with a queer, roguish smile. - -"No, but it might have increased my fever." - -"Well, if you had died, I would hab got yer close, now you knows you -promised 'em to me. So when I hearn Jake say you was dead, I run and got -yer new calico dress, and dat ribbon what Miss Jane gib you, an' put dem -in my box; den arter while Aunt Polly say you done kum back to life; so -I neber say notin' more, I jist tuck de close and put dem back in yer -box, and tink to myself, well, maybe I will git 'em some oder time." - -It amused me not a little to find that upon mere suspicion of my demise, -this little negro had levied upon my wardrobe, which was scanty indeed; -but so it is, be we ever so humble or poor, there is always some one to -regard us with a covetous eye. My little paraphernalia was, to this -half-savage child, a rich and wondrous possession. - -"Here, hold up yer foot, Ben, or you shan't hab any meat fur breakus." -This threat was addressed to her young brother, whom she nursed like a -baby, and whose tiny foot seemed to resist the restraint of a shoe. - -I looked long at them, and mused with a strange sorrow upon their -probable destiny. Bitter I knew it must be. For, where is there, beneath -the broad sweep of the majestic heavens, a single one of the dusky -tribe of Ethiopia who has not felt that existence was to him far more a -curse than a blessing? You, oh, my tawny brothers, who read these -tear-stained pages, ask your own hearts, which, perhaps, now ache almost -to bursting, ask, I say, your own vulture-torn hearts, if life is not a -hard, hard burden? Have you not oftentimes prayed to the All-Merciful to -sever the mystic tie that bound you here, to loosen your chains and set -you, soul and body, free? Have you not, from the broken chinks of your -lonely cabins at night, looked forth upon the free heavens, and murmured -at your fate? Is there, oh! slave, in your heart a single pleasant -memory? Do you not, captive-husband, recollect with choking pride how -the wife of your bosom has been cruelly lashed while you dared not say -one word in her defence? Have you not seen your children, precious -pledges of undying love, ruthlessly torn from you, bound hand and foot -and sold like dogs in the slave market, while you dared not offer a -single remonstrance? Has not every social and moral feeling been -outraged? Is it not the white man's policy to degrade your race, thereby -finding an argument to favor the perpetuation of Slavery? Is there for -us one thing to sweeten bondage? Free African! in the brave old States -of the North, where the shackles of slavery exist not, to you I call. -Noble defenders of Abolition, you whose earnest eyes may scan these -pages, I call to you with a _tearful voice_; I pray you to go on in your -glorious cause; flag not, faint not, prosecute it before heaven and -against man. Fling out your banners and march on to the defence of the -suffering ones at the South. And you, oh my heart-broken sisters, -toiling beneath a tropic sun, wearing out your lives in the service of -tyrants, to you I say, hope and pray still! Trust in God! He is mighty -and willing to save, and, in an hour that you know not of, he will roll -the stone away from the portal of your hearts. My prayers are with you -and for you. I have come up from the same tribulation, and I vow, by the -sears and wounds upon my flesh, never to forget your cause. Would that -my tears, which freely flow for you, had power to dissolve the fetters -of your wasting bondage. - -Thoughts like these, though with more vagueness and less form, passed -through my brain as I looked upon those poor little outcast children, -and I must be excused for thus making, regardless of the usual etiquette -of authors, an appeal to the hearts of my free friends. Never once do I -wish them to lose sight of the noble cause to which they have lent the -influence of their names. I am but a poor, unlearned woman, whose heart -is in her cause, and I should be untrue to the motive which induced me -to chronicle the dark passages in my woe-worn life if I did not urge and -importune the Apostles of Abolition to move forward and onward in their -march of reform. - -"Come, Amy, near to my bed, and talk a little with me." - -"I wants to git some bread fust." - -"You are always hungry," I pettishly replied. - -"No, I isn't, but den, Ann, I neber does git enuf to eat here. Now, we -use to hab more at Mas' Lijah's." - -"Was he a good master?" I asked. - -"No, he wasn't; but den mammy used to gib us nice tings to eat. She -buyed it from de store, and she let us hab plenty ob it." - -"Where is your mammy?" - -"She bin sold down de ribber to a trader," and there was a quiver in the -child's voice. - -"Did she want to go?" I inquired. - -"No, she cried a heap, and tell Masser she wouldn't mind it if he would -let her take us chilen; but Masser say no, he wouldn't. Den she axed him -please to let her hab little Ben, any how. Masser cussed, and said, -Well, she might hab Ben, as he was too little to be ob any sarvice; den -she 'peared so glad and got him all ready to take; but when de trader -kum to take her away, he say he wouldn't 'low her to take Ben, kase he -couldn't sell her fur as much, if she hab a baby wid her; den, oh den, -how poor mammy did cry and beg; but de trader tuck his cowhide and -whipped her so hard she hab to stop cryin' or beggin'. Den she kum to -me and make me promise to take good care ob Ben, to nurse him and tend -on him as long as I staid whar he was. Den she knelt down in de corner -of her cabin and prayed to God to take care ob us, all de days of our -life; den she kissed us all and squeezed us tight, and when she tuck -little Ben in her arms it 'peared like her heart would break. De water -from her eyes wet Ben's apron right ringing wet, jist like it had come -out ob a washing tub. Den de trader called to her to come along, and den -she gib dis to me, and told me dat ebery time I looked at it, I must -tink of my poor mammy dat was sold down de ribber, and 'member my -promise to her 'bout my little brudder." - -Here the child exhibited a bored five-cent piece, which she wore -suspended by a black string around her neck. - -"De chilen has tried many times to git it away frum me; but I's allers -beat 'em off; and whenever Miss Tildy wants me fur to mind her, she -says, 'Now, Amy, I'll jist take yer mammy's present from yer if yer -doesn't do what I bids yer;' den de way dis here chile does work isn't -slow, I ken tell yer," and with her characteristic gesture she run her -tongue out at the corner of her mouth in an oblique manner, and suddenly -withdrew it, as though it had passed over a scathing iron. - -"Could anything induce you to part with it?" I asked. - -She rolled her eyes up with a look of wonderment, and replied, half -ferociously, "Gracious! no--why, hasn't I bin whipped, 'bused and treed; -still I'd hold fast to this. No mortal ken take it frum me. You may kill -me in welcome," and the child shook her head with a philosophical air, -as she said, "and I don't kere much, so mammy's chilen dies along wid -me, fur I didn't see no use in our livin' eny how. I's done got my full -shere ob beatin' an' we haint no use on dis here airth--so I jist wants -fur to die." - -I looked upon her, so uncared for, so forlorn in her condition, and I -could not find it in my heart to blame her for the wish, erring and -rebellious as it must appear to the Christian. What _had_ she to live -for? To those little children, the sacred bequests of her mother, she -was no protection; for, even had she been capable of extending to them -all the guidance and watchfulness, both of soul and body, which their -delicate and immature natures required, there was every probability, -nay, there was a certainty, that this duty would be denied her. She -could not hope, at best, to live with them more than a few years. They -were but cattle, chattels, property, subject to the will and pleasure of -their owners. There would speedily come a time when a division must take -place in the estate, and that division would necessarily cause a -separation and rupture of family ties. What wonder then, that this poor -ignorant child sighed for the calm, unfearing, unbroken rest of the -grave? She dreamed not of a "more beyond;" she thought her soul mortal, -even as her body; and had she been told that there was for her a world, -even a blessed one, to succeed death, she would have shuddered and -feared to cross the threshold of the grave. She thought annihilation the -greatest, the only blessing awaiting her. The idea of another life would -have brought with it visions of a new master and protracted slavery. -Freedom and equality of souls, irrespective of _color_, was too -transcendental and chimerical an idea to take root in her practical -brain. Many times had she heard her master declare that "niggers were -jist like dogs, laid down and died, and nothin' come of them -afterwards." His philosophy could have proposed nothing more delightful -to her ease-coveting mind. - -Some weeks afterwards, when I was trying to teach her the doctrine of -the immortality of the soul, she broke forth in an idiotic laugh, as she -said, "oh, no, dat gold city what dey sings 'bout in hymns, will do fur -de white folks; but nothin' eber comes of niggers; dey jist dies and -rots." - -"Who do you think made negroes?" I inquired. - -Looking up with a meaning grin, she said, "White folks made 'em fur der -own use, I 'spect." - -"Why do you think that?" - -"Kase white folks ken kill 'em when dey pleases; so I 'spose dey make -'em." - -This was a species of reasoning which, for a moment, confounded my -logic. Seeing that I lacked a ready reply, she went on: - -"Yes, you see, Ann, we hab no use wid a soul. De white folks won't hab -any work to hab done up dere, and so dey won't hab no use fur niggers." - -"Doesn't this make you miserable?" - -"What?" she asked, with amazement. - -"This thought of dying, and rotting like the vilest worm." - -"No, indeed, it makes me glad; fur den I'll not hab anybody to beat me; -knock, kick, and cuff me 'bout, like dey does now." - -"Poor child, happier far," I thought, "in your ignorance, than I, with -all the weight of fearful responsibility that my little knowledge -entails upon me. On you, God will look with a more pitying eye than upon -me, to whom he has delegated the stewardship of two talents." - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -TALK AT THE FARM-HOUSE--THREATS--THE NEW BEAU--LINDY. - - -Several days had elapsed since the morning conversation with Amy; -meanwhile matters were jogging along in their usually dull way. Of late, -since the flight of Mr. Jones, and the illness of Mr. Peterkin, there -had been considerably less fighting; but the ladies made innumerable -threats of what they would do, when their father should be well enough -to allow a suspension of nursing duties. - -My wounds had rapidly healed, and I had resumed my former position in -the discharge of household duties. Lindy, my old assistant, still held -her place. I always had an aversion to her. There was that about her -entire physique which made her odious to me. A certain laxity of the -muscles and joints of her frame, which produced a floundering, shuffling -sort of gait that was peculiarly disagreeable, a narrow, soulless -countenance, an oblique leer of the eye where an ambushed fiend seemed -to lurk, full, voluptuous lips, lengthy chin, and expanded nostril, -combined to prove her very low in the scale of animals. She had a kind -of dare-devil courage, which seemed to brave a great deal, and yet she -shrank from everything like punishment. There was a union of degrading -passions in her character. I doubt if the lowest realm of hades -contained a baser spirit. This girl, I felt assured from the first time -I beheld her, was destined to be my evil genius. I felt that the baleful -comet that presided over her birth, would in his reckless and maddening -course, rush too near the little star which, through cloud and shadow, -beamed on my destiny. - -She was not without a certain kind of sprightliness that passed for -intelligence; and she could by her adroitness of manoeuvre amble out of -any difficulty. With a good education she would have made an excellent -female pettifogger. She had all of the quickness and diablerie usually -summed up in that most expressive American word, "_smartness_." - -I was a good deal vexed and grieved to find myself again a partner of -hers in the discharge of my duties. It seemed to open my wounds afresh; -for I remembered that her falsehood had gained me the severe castigation -that had almost deprived me of life; and her laugh and jibe had rendered -my suffering at the accursed post even more humiliating. Yet I knew -better than to offer a demurrer to any arrangement that my mistress had -made. - -One day as I was preparing to set the table for the noon meal, Lindy -came to me and whispered, in an under-tone, "You finish the table, I am -going out; and if Miss Jane or Tildy axes where I is, say dat I went to -de kitchen to wash a dish." - -"Very well," I replied in my usual laconic style, and went on about my -work. It was well for her that she had observed this precaution; for in -a few moments Miss Tildy came in, and her first question was for Lindy. -I answered as I had been desired to do. The reply appeared to satisfy -her, and with the injunction (one she never failed to give), that I -should do my work well and briskly, she left the room. - -After I had arranged the table to my satisfaction, I went to the kitchen -to assist Aunt Polly in dishing up dinner. - -When I reached the kitchen I found Aunt Polly in a great quandary. The -fire was not brisk enough to brown her bread, and she dared not send it -to the table without its being as beautifully brown as a student's -meditations. - -"Oh, child," she began, "do run somewhar' and git me a scrap or so of -dry wood, so as to raise a smart little blaze to brown dis bread." - -"Indeed I will," and off I bounded in quest of the combustible material. -Of late Aunt Polly and I had become as devoted as mother and child. 'Tis -true there was a deep yearning in my heart, a thirst for intercommunion -of soul, which this untutored negress could not supply. She did not -answer, with a thrilling response, to the deep cry which my spirit sent -out; yet she was kind, and even affectionate, to me. Usually harsh to -others, with me she was gentle as a lamb. With a thousand little -motherly acts she won my heart, and I strove, by assiduous kindness, to -make her forget that I was not her daughter. I started off with great -alacrity in search of the dry wood, and remembered that on the day -previous I had seen some barrel staves lying near an out-house, and -these I knew would quickly ignite. When rapidly turning the corner of -the stable, I was surprised to see Lindy standing in close and -apparently free conversation with a strange-looking white man. The sound -of my rapid footsteps startled them; and upon seeing me, the man walked -off hastily. With a fluttering, excited manner, Lindy came up and said: - -"Don't say nothing 'bout haven' seed me wid dat ar' gemman; fur he used -to be my mars'er, and a good one he was too." - -I promised that I would say nothing about the matter, but first I -inquired what was the nature of the private interview. - -"Oh, he jist wanted fur to see me, and know how I was gitten' long." - -I said no more; but I was not satisfied with her explanation. I resolved -to watch her narrowly, and ferret out, if possible, this seeming -mystery. Upon my return to the kitchen, with my bundle of dry sticks, I -related what I had seen to Aunt Polly. - -"Dat gal is arter sompen not very good, you mark my words fur it." - -"Oh, maybe not, Aunt Polly," I answered, though with a conviction that I -was speaking at variance with the strong probabilities of the case. - -I hurried in the viands and meats for the table, and was not surprised -to find Lindy unusually obliging, for I understood the object. There was -an abashed air and manner which argued guilt, or at least, that she was -the mistress of a secret, for the entire possession of which she -trembled. Sundry little acts of unaccustomed kindness she offered me, -but I quietly declined them. I did not desire that she should insult my -honor by the offer of a tacit bribe. - -In the evening, when I was arranging Miss Jane's hair (this was my -especial duty), she surprised me by asking, in a careless and incautious -manner: - -"Ann, what is the matter with Lindy? she has such an excited manner." - -"I really don't know, Miss Jane; I have not observed anything very -unusual in her." - -"Well, I have, and I shall speak to her about it. Oh, there! slow, girl, -slow; you pulled my hair. Don't do it again. You niggers have become so -unruly since pa's sickness, that if we don't soon get another overseer, -there will be no living for you. There is Lindy in the sulks, simply -because she wants a whipping, and old Polly hasn't given us a meal fit -to eat." - -"Have I done anything, Miss Jane?" I asked with a misgiving. - -"No, nothing in particular, except showing a general and continued -sullenness. Now, I do despise to see a nigger always sour-looking; and I -can tell you, Ann, you must change your ways, or it will be worse for -you." - -"I try to be cheerful, Miss Jane, but--" here I wisely checked myself. - -"_Try to be_," she echoed with a satirical tone. "What do you mean by -_trying_? You don't dare to say you are not happy _here_?" - -Finding that I made no reply, she said, "If you don't cut your cards -squarely, you will find yourself down the river before long, and there -you are only half-clad and half-fed, and flogged every day." Still I -made no reply. I knew that if I spoke truthfully, and as my heart -prompted, it would only redound to my misery. What right had I to speak -of my mother. She was no more than an animal, and as destitute of the -refinement of common human feeling--so I forbore to allude to her, or my -great desire to see her. I dared not speak of the horrible manner in -which my body had been cut and slashed, the half-lifeless condition in -which I had been taken from the accursed post, and all for a fault which -was not mine. These were things which, as they were done by my master's -commands, were nothing more than right; so with an effort, I controlled -my emotion, and checked the big tears which I felt were rushing up to my -eyes. - -When I had put the finishing stroke to Miss Jane's hair, and whilst she -was surveying herself in a large French mirror, Miss Bradly came in. -Tossing her bonnet off, she kissed Miss Jane very affectionately, nodded -to me, and asked, - -"Where is Tildy?" - -"I don't know, somewhere about the house, I suppose," replied Miss Jane. - -"Well, I have a new beau for her; now it will be a fine chance for -Tildy. I would have recommended you; but, knowing of your previous -engagement, I thought it best to refer him to the fair Matilda." - -Miss Jane laughed, and answered, that "though she was engaged, she would -have no objections to trying her charms upon another beau." - -There was a strange expression upon Miss Bradly's face, and a flurried, -excited manner, very different from her usually quiet demeanor. - -Miss Jane went about the room collecting, here and there, a stray pocket -handkerchief, under-sleeve, or chemisette; and, dashing them toward me, -she said, - -"Put these in wash, and do, pray, Ann, try to look more cheerful. Now, -Miss Emily," she added, addressing Miss Bradly, "we have the worst -servants in the world. There is Lindy, I believe the d--l is in her. She -is so strange in her actions. I have to repeat a thing three or four -times before she will understand me; and, as for Ann, she looks so -sullen that it gives one the horrors to see her. I've a notion to bring -Amy into the house. In the kitchen she is of no earthly service, and -doesn't earn her salt. I think I'll persuade pa to sell some of these -worthless niggers. They are no profit, and a terrible expense." -Thereupon she was interrupted by the entrance of Miss Tildy, whose face -was unusually excited. She did not perceive Miss Bradly, and so broke -forth in a torrent of invectives against "niggers." - -"I hate them. I wish this place were rid of every black face. Now we -can't find that wretched Lindy anywhere, high nor low. Let me once get -hold of her, and I'll be bound she shall remember it to the day of her -death. Oh! Miss Bradly, is that you? pray excuse me for not recognizing -you sooner; but since pa's sickness, these wretched negroes have -half-taken the place, and I shouldn't be surprised if I were to forget -myself," and with a kiss she seemed to think she had atoned to Miss -Bradly for her forgetfulness. - -To all of this Miss B. made no reply, I fancied (perhaps it was only -fancy) that there was a shade of discontent upon her face; but she still -preserved her silence, and Miss Tildy waxed warmer and warmer in her -denunciation of ungrateful "niggers." - -"Now, here, ours have every wish gratified; are treated well, fed well, -clothed well, and yet we can't get work enough out of them to justify us -in retaining our present number. As soon as pa gets well I intend to -urge upon him the necessity of selling some of them. It is really too -outrageous for us to be keeping such a number of the worthless wretches; -actually eating us out of house and home. Besides, our family expenses -are rapidly increasing. Brother must be sent off to college. It will not -do to have his education neglected. I really am becoming quite ashamed -of his want of preparation for a profession. I wish him sent to Yale, -after first receiving a preparatory course in some less noted -seminary,--then he will require a handsome outfit of books, and a -wardrobe inferior to none at the institution; for, Miss Emily, I am -determined our family shall have a position in every circle." As Miss -Tildy pronounced these words, she stamped her foot in the most emphatic -way, as if to confirm and ratify her determination. - -"Yes," said Miss Jane, "I was just telling Miss Emily of our plans; and -I think we may as well bring Amy in the house. She is of no account in -the kitchen, and Lindy, Ginsy, and those brats, can be sold for a very -pretty sum if taken to the city of L----, and put upon the block, or -disposed of to some wealthy trader." - -"What children?" asked Miss Bradly. - -"Why, Amy's two sisters and brother, and Ginsy's child, and Ginsy too, -if pa will let her go." - -My heart ached well-nigh to bursting, when I heard this. Poor, poor Amy, -child-sufferer! another drop of gall added to thy draught of -wormwood--another thorn added to thy wearing crown. Oh, God! how I -shuddered for the victim. - -Miss Jane went on in her usual heartless tone. "It is expensive to keep -them; they are no account, no profit to us; and young niggers are my -'special aversion. I have, for a long time, intended separating Amy from -her two little sisters; she doesn't do anything but nurse that sickly -child, Ben, and it is scandalous. You see, Miss Emily, we want an arbor -erected in the yard, and a conservatory, and some new-style table -furniture." - -"Yes, and I want a set of jewels, and a good many additions to my -wardrobe, and Jane wishes to spend a winter in the city. She will be -forced to have a suitable outfit." - -"Yes, and I am going to have everything I want, if the farm is to be -sold," said Miss Jane, in a voice that no one dared to gainsay. - -"But come, let me tell you, Tildy, about the new beau I have for you," -said Miss Bradly. - -Instantly Miss Tildy's eyes began to glisten. The word "beau" was the -ready "sesame" to her good humor. - -"Oh, now, dear, good Miss Emily, tell me something about him. Who is he? -where from?" &c. - -Miss Bradly smiled, coaxingly and lovingly, as she answered: - -"Well, Tildy, darling, I have a friend from the North, who is travelling -for pleasure through the valley of the Mississippi; and I promised to -introduce him to some of the pretty ladies of the West; so, of course, I -feel pride in introducing my two pupils to him." - -This was a most agreeable sedative to their ill-nature; and both sisters -came close to Miss Bradly, fairly covering her with caresses, and -addressing to her words of flattery. - -As soon as my services were dispensed with I repaired to the kitchen, -where I found Aunt Polly in no very good or amiable mood. Something had -gone wrong about the arrangements for supper. The chicken was not brown -enough, or the cakes were heavy; something troubled her, and as a -necessary consequence her temper was suffering. - -"I's in an orful humor, Ann, so jist don't come nigh me." - -"Well, but, Aunt Polly, we should learn to control these humors. They -are not the dictates of a pure spirit; they are unchristian." - -"Oh, laws, chile, what hab us to do wid der Christians? We are like dem -poor headens what de preachers prays 'bout. We haint got no -'sponsibility, no more den de dogs." - -"I don't think that way, Aunt Polly; I think I am as much bound to do my -duty, and expect a reward at the hands of my Maker, as any white -person." - -"Oh, 'taint no use of talkin' dat ar' way, kase ebery body knows niggers -ain't gwine to de same place whar dar massers goes." - -I dared not confront her obstinacy with any argument; for I knew she was -unwilling to believe. Poor, apathetic creature! she was happier in -yielding up her soul to the keeping of her owner, than she would have -been in guiding it herself. This to me would have been enslavement -indeed; such as I could not have endured. He, my Creator, who gave me -this heritage of thought, and the bounty of Hope, gave me, likewise, a -strong, unbridled will, which nothing can conquer. The whip may bring my -body into subjection, but the free, free spirit soars where it lists, -and no man can check it. God is with the soul! aye, in it, animating and -encouraging it, sustaining it amid the crash, conflict, and the -elemental war of passion! The poor, weak flesh may yield; but, thanks to -God! the soul, well-girded and heaven-poised, will never shrink. - -Many and long have been the unslumbering nights when I have lain upon my -heap of straw, gazing at the pallid moon, and the sorrowful stars; -weaving mystic fancies as the wailing night-wind seemed to bring me a -message from the distant and the lost! I have felt whole vials of -heavenly unction poured upon my bruised soul; rich gifts have descended, -like the manna of old, upon my famishing spirit; and I have felt that -God was nearer to me in the night time. I have imagined that the very -atmosphere grew luminous with the presence of angelic hosts; and a -strange music, audible alone to my ears, has lulled me to the gentlest -of dreams! God be thanked for the night, the stars, and the spirit's -vision! Joy came not to me with the breaking of the morn; but peace, -undefined, enwrapped me when the mantle of darkness and the crown of -stars attested the reign of Night! - -I grieved to think that my poor friend, this old, lonely negress, had -nothing to soothe and charm her wearied heart. There was not a single -flower blooming up amid the rank weeds of her nature. Hard and rocky it -seemed; yet had I found the prophet's wand, whereby to strike the flinty -heart, and draw forth living waters! pure, genial draughts of -kindliness, sweet honey-drops, hived away in the lonely cells of her -caverned soul! I would have loved to give her a portion of that peace -which radiated with its divine light the depths of my inmost spirit. I -had come to her now for the purpose of giving her the sad intelligence -that awaited poor Amy; but I did not find her in a suitable mood. I felt -assured that her harshness would, in some way or other, jar the finer -and more sensitive harmonies of my nature. Perhaps she would say that -she did not care for the sufferings of the poor, lonely child; and that -her bereavement would be nothing more than just; yet I knew that she did -not feel thus. Deep in her secret soul there lay folded a white-winged -angel, even as the uncomely bulb envelopes the fair petals of the lily; -and I longed for the summer warmth of kindness to bid it come forth and -bloom in beauty. - -But now I turned away from her, murmuring, "'Tis not the time." She -would not open her heart, and my own must likewise be closed and silent; -but when I met poor little Amy, looking so neglected, with scarcely -apparel sufficient to cover her nudity, my heart failed me utterly. -There she held upon her hip little Ben, her only joy; every now and then -she addressed some admonitory words to him, such as "Hush, baby, love," -"you's my baby," "sissy loves it," and similar expressions of coaxing -and endearment. And this, her only comfort, was about to be wrenched -from her. The only link of love that bound her to a weary existence, was -to be severed by the harsh mandate of another. Just God! is this right? -Oh, my soul, be thou still! Look on in patience! The cloud deepens -above! The day of God's wrath is at hand! They who have coldly forbidden -our indulging the sweet humanities of life, who have destroyed every -social relation, severed kith and kin, ruptured the ties of blood, and -left us more lonely than the beasts of the forest, may tremble when the -avenger comes! - -I ventured to speak with Amy, and I employed the kindest tone; but ever -and anon little Ben would send forth such a piteous wail, that I feared -he was in physical pain. Amy, however, very earnestly assured me that -she had administered catnip tea in plentiful quantities, and had -examined his person very carefully to discover if a pin or needle had -punctured his flesh; but everything seemed perfectly right. - -I attempted to take him in my arms; but he clung so vigorously to Amy's -shoulder, that it required strength to unfasten his grasp. - -"Oh, don'tee take him; he doesn't like fur to leab me. Him usen to me," -cried Amy, as in a motherly way she caressed him. "Now, pretty little -boy donee cry any more. Ann shan't hab you;--now be a good nice boy;" -and thus she expended upon him her whole vocabulary of endearing -epithets. - -"Who could," I asked myself, "have the heart to untie this sweet -fraternal bond? Who could dry up the only fountain in this benighted -soul? Oh, I have often marvelled how the white mother, who knows, in -such perfection, the binding beauty of maternal love, can look -unsympathizingly on, and see the poor black parent torn away from her -children. I once saw a white lady, of conceded _refinement_, sitting in -the portico of her own house, with her youngest born, a babe of some -seven months, dallying on her knee, and she toying with the pretty -gold-threads of its silken hair, whilst her husband was in the kitchen, -with a whip in his hand, severely lashing a negro woman, whom he had -sold to a trader--lashing her because she refused to go _cheerfully_ and -leave her infant behind. The poor wretch, as a last resource, fled to -her Mistress, and, on her knees, begged her to have her child. "Oh, -Mistress," cried the frantic black woman, "ask Master to let me take my -baby with me." What think you was the answer of this white mother? - -"Go away, you impudent wretch, you don't deserve to have your child. It -will be better off away from you!" Aye, this was the answer which, -accompanied by a derisive sneer, she gave to the heart-stricken black -mother. Thus she felt, spoke, and acted, even whilst caressing her own -helpless infant! Who would think it injustice to "commend the -poison-chalice to her own lips"? She, this fine lady, was known to weep -violently, because an Irish woman was unable to save a sufficiency of -money from her earnings to bring her son from Ireland to America; but, -for the African mother, who was parting eternally from her helpless -babe, she had not so much as a consolatory word. Oh, ye of the proud -Caucasian race, would that your hearts were as fair and spotless as your -complexions! Truly can the Saviour say of you, "Oh, Jerusalem, -Jerusalem, I would have gathered you together as a hen gathereth her -chickens, but ye would not!" Oh, perverse generation of vipers, how long -will you abuse the Divine forbearance! - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -LINDY'S BOLDNESS--A SUSPICION--THE MASTER'S ACCOUNTABILITY--THE YOUNG -REFORMER--WORDS OF HOPE--THE CULTIVATED MULATTO--THE DAWN OF AMBITION. - - -In about an hour Lindy came in, looking very much excited, yet -attempting to conceal it beneath the mask of calmness. I affected not to -notice it, yet was it evident, from various little attentions and -manifold kind words, that she sought to divert suspicion, and avoid all -questioning as to her absence. - -"Where," she asked me, "are the young ladies? have they company?" - -"Yes," I replied, "Miss Bradly is with them, and they are expecting a -young gentleman, an acquaintance of Miss B.'s." - -"Who is he?" - -"Why, Lindy, how should I know?" - -"I thought maybe you hearn his name." - -"No, I did not, and, even if I had, it would have been so unimportant to -me that I should have forgotten it." - -She opened her eyes with a vacant stare, but it was perceptible that she -wandered in thought. - -"Now, Lindy," I began, "Miss Jane has missed you from the house, and -both she and Miss Tildy have sworn vengeance against you." - -"So have I sworn it agin' them." - -"What! what did you say, Lindy?" - -Really I was surprised at the girl's hardihood and boldness. She had -been thrown from her guard, and now, upon regaining her composure, was -alarmed. - -"Oh, I was only joking, Ann; you knows we allers jokes." - -"I never do," I said, with emphasis. - -"Yes, but den, Ann, you see you is one ob de quare uns." - -"What do you mean by quare?" I asked. - -"Oh, psha, 'taint no use ob talkin wid you, for you is good; but kum, -tell me, is dey mad wid me in de house, and did dey say dey would beat -me?" - -"Well, they threatened something of the kind." - -Her face grew ashen pale; it took that peculiar kind of pallor which the -negro's face often assumes under the influence of fear or disease, and -which is so disagreeable to look upon. Enemy of mine as she had deeply -proven herself to be, I could not be guilty of the meanness of exulting -in her trouble. - -"But," she said, in an imploring tone, "you will not repeat what I jist -said in fun." - -"Of course I will not; but don't you remember that it was your falsehood -that gained for me the only post-whipping that I ever had?" - -"Yes; but den I is berry sorry fur dat, and will not do it any more." - -This was enough for me. An acknowledgment of contrition, and a -determination to do better, are all God requires of the offender; and -shall poor, erring mortals demand more? No; my resentment was fully -satisfied. Besides, I felt that this poor creature was not altogether -blamable. None of her better feelings had been cultivated; they were -strangled in their incipiency, whilst her savage instincts were left to -run riot. Thus the bad had ripened into a full and noxious development, -whilst the noble had been crushed in the bud. Who is to be answerable -for the short-comings of such a soul? Surely he who has cut it off from -all moral and mental culture, and has said to the glimmerings of its -faint intellect, "Back, back to the depths of darkness!" Surely he will -and must take upon himself the burden of accountability. The sin is at -his door, and woe-worth the day, when the great Judge shall come to pass -sentence upon him. I have often thought that the master of slaves must, -for consistency's sake, be an infidel--or doubt man's exact -accountability to God for the deeds done in the body; for how can he -willingly assume the sins of some hundreds of souls? In the eye of human -law, the slave has no responsibility; the master assumes all for him. If -the slave is found guilty of a capital offence, punishable with death, -the master is indemnified by a paid valuation, for yielding up the -person of the slave to the demands of offended justice? If a slave earns -money by his labors at night or holidays, or if he is the successful -holder of a prize ticket in a lottery, his master can legally claim the -money, and there is no power to gainsay him? If, then, human law -recognizes a negro as irresponsible, how much more lenient and just will -be the divine statute? Thus, I hold (and I cannot think there is just -logician, theologian, or metaphysician, who will dissent), that the -owner of slaves becomes sponsor to God for the sins of his slave; and I -cannot, then, think that one who accredits the existence of a just God, -a Supreme Ruler, to whom we are all responsible for our deeds and words, -would willingly take upon himself the burden of other people's faults -and transgressions. - -Whilst I stood talking with Lindy, the sound of merry laughter reached -our ears. - -"Oh, dat is Miss Tildy, now is my time to go in, and see what dey will -say to me; maybe while dey is in a good humor, dey will not beat me." - -And, thus saying, Lindy hurried away. Sad thoughts were crowding in my -mind. Dark misgivings were stirring in my brain. Again I thought of the -blessed society, with its humanitarian hope and aim, that dwelt afar off -in the north. I longed to ask Miss Bradly more about it. I longed to -hear of those holy men, blessed prophets foretelling a millennial era -for my poor, down-trodden and despised race. I longed to ask questions -of her; but of late she had shunned me; she scarcely spoke to me; and -when she did speak, it was with indifference, and a degree of coldness -that she had never before assumed. - -With these thoughts in my mind I stole along through the yard, until I -stood almost directly under the window of the parlor. Something in the -tone of a strange voice that reached my ear, riveted my attention. It -was a low, manly tone, lute-like, yet swelling on the breeze, and -charming the soul! It refreshed my senses like a draught of cooling -water. I caught the tone, and could not move from the spot. I was -transfixed. - -"I do not see why Fred Douglas is not equal to the best man in the land. -What constitutes worth of character? What makes the man? What gives -elevation to him?" These were the words I first distinctly heard, spoken -in a deep, earnest tone, which I have never forgotten. I then heard a -silly laugh, which I readily recognized as Miss Jane's, as she answered, -"You can't pretend to say that you would be willing for a sister of -yours to marry Fred Douglas, accomplished as you consider him?" - -"I did not speak of marrying at all; and might I not be an advocate of -universal liberty, without believing in amalgamation? Yet, it is a -question whether even amalgamation should be forbidden by law. The negro -is a different race; but I do not know that they have other than human -feelings and emotions. The negroes are, with us, the direct descendants -from the great progenitor of the human family, old Adam. They may, when -fitted by education, even transcend us in the refinements and graces -which adorn civilized character. In loftiness of purpose, in mental -culture, in genius, in urbanity, in the exercise of manly virtues, such -as fortitude, courage, and philanthropy, where will you show me a man -that excels Fred Douglas? And must the mere fact of his tawny complexion -exclude him from the pale of that society which he is so eminently -fitted to grace? Might I not (if it were made a question) prefer uniting -my sister's fate with such a man, even though partially black, to seeing -her tied to a low fellow, a wine-bibber, a swearer, a villain, who -possessed not one cubit of the stature of true manhood, yet had a -complexion white as snow? Ah, Miss, it is not the skin which gives us -true value as men and women; 'tis the momentum of mind and the purity of -morals, the integrity of purpose and nobility of soul, that make our -place in the scale of being. I care not if the skin be black as Erebus -or fair and smooth as satin, so the heart and mind be right. I do not -deal in externals or care for surfaces." - -These words were as the bread of life to me. I could scarcely resist the -temptation to leave my hiding-place and look in at the open window, to -get sight of the speaker; surely, I thought, he must wear the robes of a -prophet. I could not very distinctly hear what Miss Jane said in reply. -I could catch many words, such as "nigger" and "marry" "white lady," and -other expressions used in an expostulatory voice; but the platitudes -which she employed would not have answered the demand of my higher -reason. Old perversions and misinterpretations of portions of the Bible, -such as the story of Hagar, and the curse pronounced upon Ham, were -adduced by Miss Jane and Miss Tildy in a tone of triumph. - -"Oh, I sicken over these stories," said the same winning voice. "How -long will Christians willingly resist the known truth? How long will -they bay at heaven with their cruel blasphemies? For I hold it to be -blasphemy when a body of Christians, professing to be followers of Him -who came from heaven to earth, and assumed the substance of humanity to -teach us a lesson, argue thus. Our Great Model declares that 'He came -not to be ministered unto but to minister.' He inculcated practically -the lesson of humility in the washing of the disciples' feet; yet, these -His modern disciples, the followers of to-day, preach, even from the -sacred desk, the right of men to hold their fellow-creatures in bondage -through endless generations, to sell them for gold, to beat them, to -keep them in a heathenish ignorance; and yet declare that it all has the -divine sanction. Verily, oh night of Judaism, thou wast brighter than -this our noon-day of Christianity! Black and bitter is the account, oh -Church of God, that thou art gathering to thyself! I could pray for a -tongue of inspiration, wherewith to denounce this foul crime. I could -pray for the power to show to my country the terrible stain she has -painted upon the banner of freedom. How dare we, as Americans, boast of -this as the home and temple of liberty? Where are the 'inalienable -rights' of which our Constitution talks in such trumpet-tones? Does not -our Declaration of Independence aver, that all men are born free and -equal? Now, do we not make this a practical falsehood? Let the poor -slave come up to the tribunal of justice, and ask the wise judge upon -the bench to interpret this piece of plain English to him! How would the -man of ermine blush at his own quibbles?" - -I could tell from the speaker's voice that he had risen from his seat, -and I knew, from the sound of footsteps, that he was approaching the -window. I crouched down lower and lower, in order to conceal myself from -observation, but gazed up to behold one whose noble sentiments and bold -expression of them had so entranced me. - -Very noble looked he, standing there, with the silver moonlight beaming -upon his broad, white brow, and his deep, blue eye uplifted to the -star-written skies. His features were calm and classic in their mould, -and a mystic light seemed to idealize and spiritualize his face and -form. Kneeling down upon the earth, I looked reverently to him, as the -children of old looked upon their prophets. He did not perceive me, and -even if he had, what should I have been to him--a pale-browed student, -whose thought, large and expansive, was filled with the noble, the -philanthropic, and the great. Yet, there I crouched in fear and -trembling, lest a breath should betray my secret place. But, would not -his extended pity have embraced me, even me, a poor, insignificant, -uncared-for thing in the great world--one who bore upon her face the -impress of the hated nation? Ay, I felt that he would not have condemned -me as one devoid of the noble impulse of a heroic humanity. If the -African has not heroism, pray where will you find it? Are there, in the -high endurance of the heroes of old Sparta, sufferings such as the -unchronicled life of many a slave can furnish forth? Martyrs have gone -to the stake; but amid the pomp and sounding psaltery of a choir, and -above the flame, the fagot and the scaffold, they descried the immortal -crown, and even the worldly and sensuous desire of canonization may not -have been dead with them. The patriot braves the battle, and dies amid -the thickest of the carnage, whilst the jubilant strains of music herald -him away. The soldier perishes amid the proud acclaim of his countrymen; -but the poor negro dies a martyr, unknown, unsung, and uncheered. Many -expire at the whipping-post, with the gleesome shouts of their inhuman -tormentors, as their only cheering. Yet few pity us. We are valuable -only as property. Our lives are nothing, and our souls--why they -scarcely think we have any. In reflecting upon these things, in looking -calmly back over my past life, and in reviewing the lives of many who -are familiar to me, I have felt that the Lord's forbearance must indeed -be great; and when thoughts of revenge have curdled my blood, the prayer -of my suffering Saviour: "Father forgive them, for they know not what -they do," has flashed through my mind, and I have repelled them as angry -and unchristian. Jesus drank the wormwood and the gall; and we, oh, -brethren and sisters of the banned race, must "tread the wine-press -alone." We must bear firmly upon the burning ploughshare, and pass -manfully through the ordeal, for vengeance is His and He will repay. - -But there, in the sweet moonlight, as I looked upon this young apostle -of reform, a whole troop of thoughts less bitter than these swept over -my mind. There were gentle dreamings of a home, a quiet home, in that -Northland, where, at least, we are countenanced as human beings. "Who," -I asked myself, "is this mysterious Fred Douglas?" A black man he -evidently was; but how had I heard him spoken of? As one devoted to -self-culture in its noblest form, who ornamented society by his imposing -and graceful bearing, who electrified audiences with the splendor of his -rhetoric, and lured scholars to his presence by the fame of his -acquirements; and this man, this oracle of lore, was of my race, of my -blood. What he had done, others might achieve. What a high determination -then fired my breast! Give, give me but the opportunity, and my chief -ambition will be to prove that we, though wronged and despised, are not -inferior to the proud Caucasians. I will strive to redeem from unjust -aspersion the name of my people. He, this illustrious stranger, gave the -first impetus to my ambition; from him my thoughts assumed a form, and -one visible aim now possessed my soul. - -How long I remained there listening I do not remember, for soon the -subject of conversation was changed, and I noted not the particular -words; but that mournfully musical voice had a siren-charm for my ear, -and I could not tear myself away. Whilst listening to it, sweet sleep, -like a shielding mantle, fell upon me. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -THE CONVERSATION IN WHICH FEAR AND SUSPICION ARE AROUSED--THE YOUNG -MASTER. - - -It must have been long after midnight when I awoke. I do not remember -whether I had dreamed or not, but the slumber had brought refreshment to -my body and peace to my heart. - -I was aroused by the sound of voices, in a suppressed whisper, or rather -in a tone slightly above a whisper. I thought I detected the voice of -Lindy, and, as I rose from my recumbent posture, I caught sight of a -figure flitting round the gable of the house. I followed, but there was -nothing visible. The pale moonlight slept lovingly upon the dwelling and -the roofs of the out-buildings. Whither could the figure have fled? -There was no sign of any one having been there. Slowly and sadly I -directed my steps toward Aunt Polly's cabin. I opened the door -cautiously, not wishing to disturb her; but easy and noiseless as were -my motions, they roused that faithful creature. She sprang from the bed, -exclaiming: - -"La, Ann, whar has yer bin? I has bin so oneasy 'bout yer." - -With my native honesty I explained to her that I had been beguiled by -the melody of a human voice, and had lingered long out in the autumn -moonlight. - -"Yes; but, chile, you'll be sick. Sleepin' out a doors is berry -onwholesome like." - -"Yes; but, Aunt Polly, there is an interior heat which no autumnal frost -has power to chill." - -"Yes, chile, you does talk so pretty, like dem ar' great white -scholards. Many times I has wondered how a poor darkie could larn so -much. Now it 'pears to me as if you knowed much as any ob 'em. I don't -tink Miss Bradly hersef talks any better dan you does." - -"Oh, Aunt Polly, your praise is sweet to me; but then, you must remember -not to do me more than justice. I am a poor, illiterate mulatto girl, -who has indeed improved the modicum of time allowed her for -self-culture; yet, when I hear such ladies as Miss Bradly talk, I feel -how far inferior I am to the queens of the white tribe. Often I ask -myself why is this? Is it because my face is colored? But then there is -a voice, deep down in my soul, that rejects such a conclusion as -slanderous. Oh, give me but opportunity, and I will strive to equal them -in learning." - -"I don't see no use in yer wanting to larn, when you is nothing but a -poor slave. But I does think the gift of fine speech mighty valable." - -And here is another thing upon which I would generalize. Does it not -argue the possession of native mind--the immense value the African -places upon words--the high-flown and broad-sounding words that he -usually employs? The ludicrous attempts which the most untutored make at -grandiloquence, should not so much provoke mirth as admiration in the -more reflective of the white race. Through what barriers and obstacles -do not their minds struggle to force a way up to the light. I have often -been astonished at the quickness with which they seized upon -expressions, and the accuracy with which they would apply them. Every -crude attempt which they make toward self-culture is laughed at and -scorned by the master, or treated as the most puerile folly. No -encouragement is given them. If, by almost superhuman effort, they gain -knowledge, why they may; but, unaided and alone, they must work, as I -have done. Moreover, I have been wonder-stricken at the facility with -which the negro-boy acquires learning. 'Tis as though the rudiments of -the school came to him by flashes of intuition. He is allowed only a -couple of hours on Sunday afternoons for recitations, and such odd -moments during the week as he can catch to prepare his lessons; for, a -servant-boy often caught with his book in hand, would be pronounced -indolent, and punished as such. Then, how unjust it is for the proud -statesman--prouder of his snowy complexion than of his stores of -knowledge--how unjust, I say, is it in him to assert, in the halls of -legislation, that the colored race are to the white far inferior in -native mind! Has he weighed the advantages and disadvantages of both? -Has he remembered that the whites, through countless generations, have -been cultivated and refined--familiarized with the arts and sciences and -elegancies of a graceful age, whilst the blacks are bound down in -ignorance; unschooled in lore; untrained in virtue; taught to look upon -themselves as degraded--the mere drudges of their masters; debarred the -privileges of social life; excluded from books, with the products of -their labor going toward the enrichment of others? When, as in some -solitary instance, a single mind dares to break through the restraints -and impediments imposed upon it, does not the fact show of what strength -the race, when properly cared for, is capable? Is not the bulb, which -enshrouds the snowy leaves of the fragrant lily, an unsightly thing? -Does the uncut diamond show any of the polish and brilliancy which the -lapidary's hand can give it? Thus is it with the African mind. Let but -the schoolmen breathe upon it, let the architect of learning fashion it, -and no diamond ever glittered with more resplendence. With a more than -prismatic light, it will refract the beams of the sun of knowledge; and -the heart, the most noble African's heart, that now slumbers in the bulb -of ignorance, will burst forth, pure and lovely as the white-petaled -lily! - -I hope, kind reader, you will pardon these digressions, as I write my -inner as well as outer life, and I should be unfaithful to my most -earnest thoughts were I not to chronicle such reflections as these. This -book is not a wild romance to beguile your tears and cheat your fancy. -No; it is the truthful autobiography of one who has suffered long, long, -the pains and trials of slavery. And she is committing her story, with -her own calm deductions, to the consideration of every thoughtful and -truth-loving mind. - -"Where," I asked Aunt Polly, "is Lindy?" - -"Oh, chile, I doesn't know whar dat gal is. Sompen is de matter wid -her. She bin flyin' round here like somebody out ob dar head. All's not -right wid her, now you mark my words fur it." - -I then related to her the circumstance which had occurred whilst I was -under the window. - -"I does jist know dat was Lindy! You didn't see who she was talkin' -wid?" - -"No; and I did not distinctly discern her form; but the voice I am -confident was her's." - -"Well, sompen is gwine to happen; kase Lindy is berry great coward, and -I well knows 'twas sompen great dat would make her be out dar at -midnight." - -"What do you think it means?" I asked. - -"Why, lean up close to me, chile, while I jist whisper it low like to -you. I believe Lindy is gwine to run off." - -I started back in terror. I felt the blood grow cold in my veins. Why, -if she made such an attempt as this, the whole country would be scoured -for her. Hot pursuers would be out in every direction. And then her -flight would render slavery ten times more severe for us. Master would -believe that we were cognizant of it, and we should be put to torture -for the purpose of wringing from us something in regard to her. Then, -apprehension of our following her example would cause the reins of -authority to be even more tightly drawn. What wonder, then, that fright -possessed our minds, as the horrid suspicion began to assume something -like reality. We regarded each other in silent horror. The dread -workings of the fiend of fear were visible in the livid hue which -overspread my companion's face and shone in the glare of her aged eye. -She clasped her skinny hands together, and cried, - -"Oh, my chile, orful times is comin' fur us. While Lindy will be off in -that 'lightful Canady, we will be here sufferin' all sorts of trouble. -Oh, de Lord, if dar be any, hab marcy on us!" - -"Oh, Aunt Polly, don't say 'if there be any;' for, so certain as we both -sit here, there is a Lord who made us, and who cares for us, too. We -are as much the children of His love as are the whites." - -"Oh Lord, chile, I kan't belieb it; fur, if he loves us, why does he -make us suffer so, an' let de white folks hab such an easy time?" - -"He has some wise purpose in it. And then in that Eternity which -succeeds the grave, He will render us blest and happy." - -The clouds of ignorance hung too thick and close around her mind; and -the poor old woman did not see the justice of such a decree. She was not -to blame if, in her woeful ignorance, she yielded to unbelief; and, with -a profanity which knowledge would have rebuked, dared to boldly question -the Divine Purpose. This sin, also, is at the white man's door. - -I did not strive further to enlighten her; for, be it confessed, I was -myself possessed by physical fear to an unwonted degree. I did not think -of courting sleep. The brief dream which had fallen upon me as I slept -beneath the parlor window, had given me sufficient refreshment. And as -for Aunt Polly, she was too much frightened to think of sleep. Talk we -did, long and earnestly. I mentioned to her what I had heard Misses -Tildy and Jane say in regard to Amy. - -"Poor thing," exclaimed Aunt Polly, "she'll not be able to stand it, for -her heart is wrapped up in dat ar' chile's. She 'pears like its mother." - -"I hope they may change their intentions," I ventured to say. - -"No; neber. When wonst Miss Jane gets de notion ob finery in her head, -she is gwine to hab it. Lord lub you, Ann, I does wish dey would sell -you and me." - -"So do I," was my fervent reply. - -"But dey will neber sell you, kase Miss Jane tinks you is good-lookin', -an' I hearn her say she would like to hab a nice-lookin' maid. You see -she tinks it is 'spectable." - -"I suppose I must bear my cross and crown of thorns with patience." - -Just then little Ben groaned in his sleep, and quickly his ever-watchful -guardian was aroused; she bent over him, soothing his perturbed sleep -with a low song. Many were the endearing epithets which she employed, -such as, "Pretty little Benny, nothing shall hurt you." "Bless your -little heart," and "here I is by yer side," "I'll keep de bars way frum -yer." - -"Poor child," burst involuntarily from my lips, as I reflected that even -that one only treasure would soon be taken from her; then in what a -hopeless eclipse would sink every ray of mind. Hearing my exclamation, -she sprung up, and eagerly asked, - -"What is de matter, Ann? Why is you and Aunt Polly sittin' up at dis -time ob of de night? It's most day; say, is anything gwine on?" - -"Nothing at all," I answered, "only Aunt Polly does not feel very well, -and I am sitting up talking with her." - -Thus appeased, she returned to her bed (if such a miserable thing could -be called a bed), and was soon sleeping soundly. - -Aunt Polly wiped her eyes as she said to me, - -"Ann, doesn't we niggers hab to bar a heap? We works hard, and gits -nothing but scanty vittels, de scraps dat de white folks leabes, and den -dese miserable old rags dat only half kevers our nakedness. I declare it -is too hard to bar." - -"Yes," I answered, "it is hard, very hard, and enough to shake the -endurance of the most determined martyr; yet, often do I repeat to -myself those divine words, 'The cup which my Father has given me will I -drink;' and then I feel calmed, strong, and heroic." - -"Oh, Ann, chile, you does talk so beautiful, an' you has got de rale -sort ob religion." - -"Oh, would that I could think so. Would that my soul were more patient. -I am not sufficiently hungered and athirst after righteousness. I pant -too much for the joys of earth. I crave worldly inheritance, whilst the -Christian's true aim should be for the mansions of the blest." - -Thus wore on the night in social conversation, and I forgot, in that -free intercourse, that there was a difference between us. The heart -takes not into consideration the distinction of mind. Love banishes all -thought of rank or inequality. By her kindness and confidence, this old -woman made me forget her ignorance. - -When the first red streak of day began to announce the slow coming of -the sun, Aunt Polly was out, and about her breakfast arrangements. - -Since the illness of Master, and the departure of Mr. Jones, things had -not gone on with the same precision as before. There was a few minutes -difference in the blowing of the horn; and, for offences like these, -Master had sworn deeply that "every nigger's hide" should be striped, as -soon as he was able to preside at the "post." During his sickness he had -not allowed one of us to enter his room; "for," as he said to the -doctor, "a cussed nigger made him feel worse, he wanted to be up and -beatin' them. They needed the cowhide every breath they drew." And, as -the sapient doctor decided that our presence had an exciting effect upon -him, we were banished from his room. "_Banished!_--what's banished but -set free!" - -Now, when I rose from my seat, and bent over the form of Amy, and -watched her as she lay wrapt in a profound sleep, with one arm -encircling little Ben, and the two sisters, Jane and Luce, lying close -to her--so dependent looked the three, as they thus huddled round their -young protectress, so loving and trustful in that deep repose, that I -felt now would be a good time for the angel Death to come--now, before -the fatal fall of the Damoclesian sword, whose hair thread was about to -snap: but no--Death comes not at our bidding; he obeys a higher -appointment. The boy moaned again in his sleep, and Amy's faithful arm -was tightened round him. Closer she drew him to her maternal heart, and -in a low, gurgling, songful voice, lulled him to a sweeter rest. I -turned away from the sight, and, sinking on my knees, offered up a -prayer to Him our common Father. I prayed that strength might be -furnished me to endure the torture which I feared would come with the -labors of the day. I asked, in an especial way, for grace to be given to -the child, Amy. God is merciful! He moves in a mysterious manner. All -power comes direct from Him; and, oh, did I not feel that this young -creature had need of grace to bear the burden that others were preparing -for her! - -My business was to clean the house and set to rights the young ladies' -apartment, and then assist Lindy in the breakfast-room; but I dared not -venture in the ladies' chamber until half-past six o'clock, as the -slightest foot-fall would arouse Miss Jane, who, I think, was too -nervous to sleep. Thus I was left some little time to myself; and these -few moments I generally devoted to reading some simple story-book or -chapters in the New Testament. Of course, the mighty mysteries of the -sacred volume were but imperfectly appreciated by me. I read the book -more as a duty than a pleasure; but this morning I could not read. -Christ's beautiful parable of the Ten Virgins, which has such a wondrous -significance even to the most childish mind, failed to impart interest, -and the blessed page fell from my hands unread. - -I then thought I would go to the kitchen and assist Aunt Polly. I found -her very much excited, and in close conversation with our master's son -John, whom the servants familiarly addressed as "young master." - -I have, as yet, forborne all direct and special mention of him, though -he was by no means a person lacking interest. Unlike his father and -sisters, he was gentle in disposition, full of loving kindness; yet he -was so taciturn, that we had seldom an indication of that generosity -that burned so intensely in the very centre of his soul, and which -subsequent events called forth. His sisters pronounced him stupid; and, -in the choice phraseology of his father, he was "poke-easy;" but the -poor, undiscriminating black people, called him gentle. To me he said -but little; yet that little was always kindly spoken, and I knew it to -be the dictate of a soft, humane spirit. - -Fair-haired, with deep blue eyes, a snowy complexion and pensive -manners, he glided by us, ever recalling to my mind the thought of -seraphs. He was now fifteen years of age, but small of stature and -slight of sinew, with a mournful expression and dejected eye, as though -the burden of a great sorrow had been early laid upon him. During all -my residence there, I had never heard him laugh loud or seen him run. He -had none of that exhilaration and buoyancy which are so captivating in -childhood. If he asked a favor of even a servant, he always expressed a -hope that he had given no trouble. When a slave was to be whipped, he -would go off and conceal himself somewhere, and never was he a spectator -of any cruelty; yet he did not remonstrate with his father or intercede -for the victims. No one had ever heard him speak against the diabolical -acts of his father; yet all felt that he condemned them, for there was a -silent expression of reproof in the earnest gaze which he sometimes gave -him. I always fancied when the boy came near me, that there was about -him a religion, which, like the wondrous virtue of the Saviour's -garment, was manifest only when you approached near enough to touch it. -It was not expressed in any open word, or made evident by any signal -act, but, like the life-sustaining air which we daily breathe, we knew -it only through its beneficent though invisible influence. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -THE FLIGHT--YOUNG MASTER'S APPREHENSIONS--HIS -CONVERSATION--AMY--EDIFYING TALK AMONG LADIES. - - -I was not a little surprised to find young master now in an apparently -earnest colloquy with Aunt Polly. A deep carnation spot burned upon his -cheeks, and his soft eye was purple in its intensity. - -"What is the matter?" I asked. - -"Lor, chile," replied Aunt Polly, "Lindy can't be found nowhar." - -"Has every place been searched?" I inquired. - -"Yes," said little John, "and she is nowhere to be found." - -"Does master know it?" - -"Not yet, and I hope it may be kept from him for some time, at least two -or three hours," he replied, with a mournful earnestness of tone. - -"Why? Is he not well enough to bear the excitement of it?" I inquired. - -The boy fixed his large and wondering eyes upon me. His gaze lingered -for a minute or two; it was enough; I read his inmost thoughts, and in -my secret soul I revered him, for I bowed to the majesty of a -heaven-born soul. Such spirits are indeed few. God lends them to earth -for but a short time; and we should entertain them well, for, though -they come in forms unrecognized, yet must we, despite the guise of -humanity, do reverence to the shrined seraph. This boy now became to me -an object of more intense interest. I felt assured, by the power of that -magnetic glance, that he was not unacquainted with the facts of Lindy's -flight. - -"How far is it from here to the river?" he said, as if speaking with -himself, "nine miles--let me see--the Ohio once gained, and crossed, -they are comparatively safe." - -He started suddenly, as if he had been betrayed or beguiled of his -secret, and starting up quickly, walked away. I followed him to the -door, and watched his delicate form and golden head, until he -disappeared in a curve of the path which led to the spring. That was a -favorite walk with him. Early in the morning (for he rose before the -lark) and late in the twilight, alike in winter or summer, he pursued -his walk. Never once did I see him with a book in his hand. With his eye -upturned to the heavens or bent upon the earth, he seemed to be reading -Nature's page. He had made no great proficiency in book-knowledge; and, -indeed, as he subsequently told me, he had read nothing but the Bible. -The stories of the Old Testament he had committed to memory, and could -repeat with great accuracy. That of Joseph possessed a peculiar -fascination for him. As I closed the kitchen door and rejoined Aunt -Polly, she remarked, - -"Jist as I sed, Lindy is off, and we is left here to hab trouble; oh, -laws, look for sights now!" - -I made no reply, but silently set about assisting her in getting -breakfast. Shortly after old Nace came in, with a strange expression -lighting up his fiendish face. - -"Has you hearn de news?" And without waiting for a reply, he went on, -"Lindy is off fur Kanaday! ha, ha, ha!" and he broke out in a wild -laugh; "I guess dat dose 'ere hounds will scent her path sure enoff; I -looks out for fun in rale arnest. I jist hopes I'll be sint fur her, and -I'll scour dis airth but what I finds her." - -And thus he rambled on, in a diabolical way, neither of us heeding him. -He seemed to take no notice of our silence, being too deeply interested -in the subject of his thoughts. - -"I'd like to know at what hour she started off. Now, she was a smart one -to git off so slick, widout lettin' anybody know ob it. She had no close -worth takin' wid her, so she ken run de faster. I wish Masser would git -wake, kase I wants to be de fust one to tell him ob it." - -Just then the two field-hands, Jake and Dan, came in. - -"Wal," cried the former, "dis am news indeed. Lindy's off fur sartin. -Now she tinks she is some, I reckon." - -"And why shouldn't she?" asked Dan, a big, burly negro, good-natured, -but very weak in mind; of a rather low and sensuous nature, yet of a -good and careless humor--the best worker upon the farm. I looked round -at him as he said this, for I thought there was reason as well as -feeling in the speech. Why shouldn't she be both proud and happy at the -success of her bold plan, if it gains her liberty and enables her to -reach that land where the law would recognize her as possessed of -rights? I could almost envy her such a lot. - -"I guess she'll find her Kanady down de river, by de time de dogs gits -arter her," said Nace, with another of his ha, ha's. - -"I wonder who Masser will send fur her? I bound, Nace, you'll be sent," -said Jake. - -"Yes, if dar is any fun, I is sure to be dar; but hurry up yer -hoe-cakes, old 'ooman, so dat de breakfust will be ober, and we can hab -an airly start." - -The latter part of this speech was addressed to Aunt Polly, who turned -round and brandished the poker toward him, saying, - -"Go 'bout yer business, Nace; kase you is got cause fur joy, it is not -wort my while to be glad. You is an old fool, dat nobody keres 'bout, no -how. I spects you would be glad to run off, too, if yer old legs was -young enuff fur to carry you." - -"Me, Poll, I wouldn't be free if I could, kase, you see, I has done -sarved my time at de 'post,' and now I is Masser's head-man, and I gits -none ob de beatings. It is fun fur me to see de oders." - -I turned my eyes upon him, and he looked so like a beast that I shut out -any feeling of resentment I might otherwise have entertained. Amy came -in, bearing little Ben in her arms, followed by her two sisters, Jinny -and Lucy. - -"La, Aunt Polly, is Lindy gone?" and her blank eyes opened to an unusual -width, as she half-asked, half-asserted this fact. - -"Yes, but what's it to you, Amy?" - -"I jist hear 'em say so, as I was comin' along." - -"Whar she be gone to?" asked Lucy. - -"None ob yer bisness," replied Aunt Polly, with her usual gruffness. - -Strange it was, that, when she was alone with me, she appeared to wax -soft and gentle in her nature; but, when with others, she was "wolfish." -It seemed as if she had two natures. Now, with Nace, she was as vile and -almost as inhuman as he; but I, who knew her heart truly, felt that she -was doing herself injustice. I did not laugh or join in their talk, but -silently worked on. - -"Now, you see, Ann is one ob de proud sort, kase she ken read, and her -face is yaller; she tinks to hold herself 'bove us; but I 'members de -time when Masser buyed her at de sale. Lor' lub yer, but she did cry -when she lef her mammy; and de way old Kais flung herself on de ground, -ha! ha! it makes me laf now." - -I turned my eyes upon him, and, I fear, there was anything but a -Christian spirit beaming therefrom. He had touched a chord in my heart -which was sacred to memory, love, and silence. My mother! Could I bear -to have her name and her sorrow thus rudely spoken of? Oh, God, what -fierce and fiendish feelings did the recollection of her agony arouse? -With burning head and thorn-pierced heart, I turned back a blotted page -in life. Again, with horror stirring my blood, did I see her in that -sweat of mortal agony, and hear that shriek that rung from her soul! Oh, -God, these memories are a living torture to me, even now. But though -Nace had touched the tenderest, sorest part of my heart, I said nothing -to him. The strange workings of my countenance attracted Amy's -attention, and, coming up to me, with an innocent air, she asked: - -"What is the matter, Ann? Has anything happened to you?" - -These questions, put by a simple child, one, too, whose own young life -had been deeply acquainted with grief, were too much for my assumed -stolidity. Tears were the only reply I could make. The child regarded -me curiously, and the expression, "poor thing," burst from her lips. I -felt grateful for even her sympathy, and put my hand out to her. - -She grasped it, and, leaning close to me, said: - -"Don't cry, Ann; me is sorry fur you. Don't cry any more." - -Poor thing, she could feel sympathy; she, who was so loaded with -trouble, whose existence had none of the freshness and vernal beauty of -youth, but was seared and blighted like age, held in the depths of her -heart a pure drop of genuine sympathy, which she freely offered me. Oh, -did not my selfishness stand rebuked. - -Looking out of the window, far down the path that wound to the spring, I -descried the fair form of the young John, advancing toward the house. -Pale and pure, with his blue eyes pensively looking up to heaven, an air -of peaceful thought and subdued emotion was breathing from his very -form. When I looked at him, he suggested the idea of serenity. There was -that about him which, like the moonlight, inspired calm. He was walking -more rapidly than I had ever seen him; but the pallor of his cheek, and -the clear, cold blue of his heaven-lit eye, harmonized but poorly with -the jarring discords of life. I thought of the pure, passionless apostle -John, whom Christ so loved? And did I not dream that this youth, too, -had on earth a mission of love to perform? Was he not one of the sacred -chosen? He came walking slowly, as if he were communing with some -invisible presence. - -"Thar comes young Masser, and I is glad, kase he looks so good like. I -does lub him," said Amy. - -"Now, I is gwine fur to tell Masser, and he will gib you a beatin', -nigger-gal, for sayin' you lub a white gemman," replied the sardonic -Nace. - -"Oh, please don't tell on me. I did not mean any harm," and she burst -into tears, well-knowing that a severe whipping would be the reward of -her construed impertinence. - -Before I had time to offer her any consolation, the subject of -conversation himself stood among us. With a low, tuneful voice, he spoke -to Amy, inquiring the cause of her tears. - -"Oh, young Masser, I did not mean any harm. Please don't hab me beat." -Little Ben joined in her tears, whilst the two girls clung fondly to her -dress. - -"Beaten for what?" asked young master, in a most encouraging manner. - -"She say she lub you--jist as if a black wench hab any right to lub a -beautiful white gemman," put in Nace. - -"I am glad she does, and wish that I could do something that would make -her love me more." And a _beatific_ smile overspread his peaceful face. -"Come, poor Amy, let me see if I haven't some little present for you," -and he drew from his pocket a picayune, which he handed her. With a wild -and singular contortion of her body, she made an acknowledgment of -thanks, and kissing the hem of his robe, she darted off from the -kitchen, with little Ben in her arms. - -Without saying one word, young master walked away from the kitchen, but -not without first casting a sorrowful look upon Nace. Strange it seemed -to me, that this noble youth never administered a word of reproof to any -one. He conveyed all rebukes by means of looks. Upon me this would have -produced a greater impression, for those mild, reproachful eyes spoke -with a power which no language could equal; but on one of Nace's -obtuseness, it had no effect whatever. - -Shortly after, I left the kitchen, and went to the breakfast-room, -where, with the utmost expedition, I arranged the table, and then -repaired to the chamber of the young ladies. I found that they had -already risen from their bed. Miss Bradly (who had spent the night with -them) was standing at the mirror, braiding her long hair. Miss Jane was -seated in a large chair, with an elegant dressing-wrapper, waiting for -me to comb her "auburn hair," as she termed it. Miss Tildy, in a lazy -attitude, was talking about the events of the previous evening. - -"Now, Miss Emily, I do think him very handsome; but I cannot forgive his -gross Abolition sentiments." - -"How horribly vulgar and low he is in his notions," said Miss Jane. - -"Oh, but, girls, he was reared in the North, with those fanatical -Abolitionists, and we can scarcely blame him." - -"What a horrible set of men those Abolitionists must be. They have no -sense," said Miss Jane, with quite a Minerva air. - -"Oh, sense they assuredly have, but judgment they lack. They are a set -of brain-sick dreamers, filled with Utopian schemes. They know nothing -of Slavery as it exists at the South; and the word, which, I confess, -has no very pleasant sound, has terrified them." This remark was made by -Miss Bradly, and so astonished me that I fixed my eyes upon her, and, -with one look, strove to express the concentrated contempt and -bitterness of my nature. This look she did not seem to heed. With -strange feelings of distrust in the integrity of human nature, I went on -about my work, which was to arrange and deck Miss Jane's hair, but I -would have given worlds not to have felt toward Miss Bradly as I did. I -remembered with what a different spirit she had spoken to me of those -Abolitionists, whom she now contemned so much, and referred to as vain -dreamers. Where was the exalted philanthropy that I had thought dwelt in -her soul? Was she not, now, the weakest and most sordid of mortals? -Where was that far and heaven-reaching love, that had seemed to encircle -her as a living, burning zone? Gone! dissipated, like a golden mist! and -now, before my sight she stood, poor and a beggar, upon the great -highway of life. - -"I can tell you," said Miss Tildy, "I read the other day in a newspaper -that the reason these northern men are so strongly in favor of the -abolition of slavery is, that they entertain a prejudice against the -South, and that all this political warfare originated in the base -feeling of envy." - -"And that is true," put in Miss Jane; "they know that cotton, rice and -sugar are the great staples of the South, and where can you find any -laborers but negroes to produce them?" - -"Could not the poor class of whites go there and work for wages?" -pertinently asked Miss Tildy, who had a good deal of the spirit of -altercation in her. - -"No, of course not; because they are free and could not be made to work -at all times. They would consent to be employed only at certain periods. -They would not work when they were in the least sick, and they would, -because of their liberty, claim certain hours as their own; whereas the -slave has no right to interpose any word against the overseer's order. -Sick or well, he _must_ work at busy seasons of the year. The whip has a -terribly sanitary power, and has been proven to be a more efficient -remedy than rhubarb or senna." After delivering herself of this -wonderful argument, Miss Jane seemed to experience great relief. Miss -Bradly turned from the mirror, and, smiling sycophantically upon her, -said: "Why, my dear, how well you argue! You are a very Cicero in -debate." - -That was enough. This compliment took ready root in the shallow mind of -the receiver, and her love for Miss B. became greater than ever. - -"But I do think him so handsome," broke from Miss Tildy's lips, in a -half audible voice. - -"Whom?" asked Miss Bradly. - -"Why, the stranger of last evening; the fair-browed Robert Worth." - -"Handsome, indeed, is he!" was the reply. - -"I hope, Matilda Peterkin, you would not be so disloyal to the South, -and to the very honorable institution under which your father -accumulated his wealth, as to even admire a low-flung northern -Abolitionist;" and Miss Jane reddened with all a Southron's ire. - -Miss Bradly was about to speak, but to what purpose the world to this -day remains ignorant, for oath after oath, and blasphemy by the volley, -so horrible that I will spare myself and the reader the repetition, -proceeded from the room of Mr. Peterkin. - -The ladies sprang to their feet, and, in terror, rushed from the -apartment. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -MR. PETERKIN'S RAGE--ITS ESCAPE--CHAT AT THE BREAKFAST TABLE--CHANGE OF -VIEWS--POWER OF THE FLESH POTS. - - -It was as I had expected; the news of Lindy's flight had been -communicated by Nace to Mr. Peterkin, and his rage knew no limits. It -was dangerous to go near him. Raving like a madman, he tore the covering -of the bed to shreds, brandished his cowhide in every direction, took -down his gun, and swore he would "shoot every d----d nigger on the -place." His daughters had no influence over him. Out of bed he would -get, declaring that "all this devilment" would not have been perpetrated -if he had not been detained there by the order of that d----d doctor, -who had no reason for keeping him there but a desire to get his money. -Fearing that his hyena rage might vent some of its gall on them, the -ladies made no further opposition to his intention. - -Standing just without the door, I heard Miss Jane ask him if he would -not first take some breakfast. - -"No; cuss your breakfast. I want none of it; I want to be among them ar' -niggers, and give 'em a taste of this cowhide, that they have been -sufferin' fur." - -In affright I fled to the kitchen, and told Aunt Polly that the storm -had at length broken in all its fury. Each one of the negroes eyed the -others in silent dismay. - -Pale with rage and debility, hot fury flashing from his eye, and white -froth gathering upon his lips, Mr. Peterkin dashed into the kitchen. "In -the name of h--ll and its fires, niggers, what does this mean? Tell me -whar that d----d gal is, or I'll cut every mother's child of you to -death." - -Not one spoke. Lash after lash he dealt in every direction. - -"Speak, h--ll hounds, or I'll throttle you!" he cried, as he caught Jake -and Dan by the throat, with each hand, and half strangled them. With -their eyes rolling, and their tongues hanging from their mouths, they -had not power to answer. As soon as he loosened his grasp, and their -voices were sufficiently their own to speak, they attempted a denial; -but a blow from each of Mr. Peterkin's fists levelled them to the floor. -In this dreadful state, and with a hope of getting a moment's respite, -Jake (poor fellow, I forgive him for it) pointed to me, saying: - -"She knows all 'bout it." - -This had the desired effect; finding one upon whom he could vent his -whole wrath, Peterkin rushed up to me, and Oh, such a blow as descended -upon my head! Fifty stars blazed around me. My brain burned and ached; a -choking rush of tears filled my eyes and throat. "Mercy! mercy!" broke -from my agonized lips; but, alas! I besought it from a tribunal where it -was not to be found. Blow after blow he dealt me. I strove not to parry -them, but stood and received them, as, right and left, they fell like a -hail-storm. Tears and blood bathed my face and blinded my sight. "You -cussed fool, I'll make you rue the day you was born, if you hide from me -what you knows 'bout it." - -I asseverated, in the most solemn way, that I knew nothing of Lindy's -flight. - -"You are a liar," he cried out, and enforced his words with another -blow. - -"She is not," cried Aunt Polly, whose forbearance had now given out. -This unexpected boldness in one of the most humble and timid of his -slaves, enraged him still farther, and he dealt her such a blow that my -heart aches even now, as I think of it. - -A summons from one of the ladies recalled him to the house. Before -leaving he pronounced a desperate threat against us, which amounted to -this--that we should all be tied to the "post," and beaten until -confession was wrung from us, and then taken to L----, and sold to a -trader, for the southern market. But I did not share, with the others, -that wondrous dread of the fabled horror of "down the river." I did not -believe that anywhere slavery existed in a more brutal and cruel form -than in the section of Kentucky where I lived. Solitary instances of -kind and indulgent masters there were; but they were the few exceptions -to the almost universal rule. - -Now, when Mr. Peterkin withdrew, I, forgetful of my own wounds, lifted -Aunt Polly in my arms, and bore her, half senseless, to the cabin, and -laid her upon her ragged bed. "Great God!" I exclaimed, as I bent above -her, "can this thing last long? How much longer will thy divine patience -endure? How much longer must we bear this scourge, this crown of thorns, -this sweat of blood? Where and with what Calvary shall this martyrdom -terminate? Oh, give me patience, give me fortitude to bow to Thy will! -Sustain me, Jesus, Thou who dost know, hast tasted of humanity's -bitterest cup, give me grace to bear yet a little longer!" - -With this prayer upon my lips I rose from the bedside where I had been -kneeling, and, taking Aunt Polly's horny hands within my own, I -commenced chafing them tenderly. I bathed her temples with cold water. -She opened her eyes languidly, looked round the room slowly, and then -fixed them upon me, with a bewildered expression. I spoke to her in a -gentle tone; she pushed me some distance from her, eyed me with a vacant -glance, then, shaking her head, turned over on her side and closed her -eyes. Believing that she was stunned and faint from the blow she had -received, I thought it best that she should sleep awhile. Gently -spreading the coverlet over her, I returned to the kitchen, where the -affrighted group of negroes yet remained. Stricken by a panic they had -not power of volition. - -Casting one look of reproach upon Jake, I turned away, intending to go -and see if the ladies required my attention in the breakfast-room; but -in the entry, which separated the house from the kitchen, I encountered -Amy, with little Ben seated upon her hip. This is the usual mode with -nurses in Kentucky of carrying children. I have seen girls actually -deformed from the practice. An enlargement of the right hip is caused by -it, and Amy was an example of this. Had I been in a different mood, her -position and appearance would have provoked laughter. There she stood, -with her broad eyes wide open, and glaring upon me; her unwashed face -and uncombed hair were adorned by the odd ends of broken straws and bits -of hay that clung to the naps of wool; her mouth was opened to its -utmost capacity; her very ears were erect with curiosity; and her form -bent eagerly forward, whilst little Ben was coiled up on her hip, with -his sharp eyes peering like those of a mouse over her shoulder. - -"Ann," she cried out, "tell me what's de matter? What's Masser goin' to -do wid us all?" - -"I don't know, Amy," I answered in a faltering tone, for I feared much -for her. - -"I hopes de child'en will go 'long wid me, an' I'd likes for you to go -too, Ann." - -I did not trust myself to reply; but, passing hastily on, entered the -breakfast-room, where Jane, Tildy, and Miss Bradly were seated at the -table, with their breakfast scarcely tasted. They were bending over -their plates in an intensity of interest which made them forget -everything, save their subject of conversation. - -"How she could have gotten off without creating any alarm, is to me a -mystery," said Miss Jane, as she toyed with her spoon and cup. - -"Well, old Nick is in them. Negroes, I believe, are possessed by some -demon. They have the witch's power of slipping through an auger-hole," -said Miss Tildy. - -"They are singular creatures," replied Miss Bradly; "and I fear a great -deal of useless sympathy is expended upon them." - -"You may depend there is," said Miss Jane. "I only wish these Northern -abolitionists had our servants to deal with. I think it would drive the -philanthropy out of them." - -"Indeed would it," answered Miss Bradly, as she took a warm roll, and -busied herself spreading butter thereon; "they have no idea of the -trials attending the duty of a master; the patience required in the -management of so many different dispositions. I think a residence in the -South or South-west would soon change their notions. The fact is, I -think those fanatical abolitionists agitate the question only for -political purposes. Now, it is a clearly-ascertained thing, that slavery -would be prejudicial to the advancement of Northern enterprise. The -negro is an exotic from a tropical region, hence lives longer, and is -capable of more work in a warm climate. They have no need of black labor -at the North; and thus, I think, the whole affair resolves itself into a -matter of sectional gain and interest." - -Here she helped herself to the wing of a fried chicken. It seemed that -the argument had considerably whetted her appetite. Astonishing, is it -not, how the loaves and fishes of this goodly life will change and sway -our opinions? Even sober-minded, educated people, cannot repress their -pinings after the flesh-pots of Egypt. - -Miss Jane seemed delighted to find that her good friend and instructress -held the Abolition party in such contempt. Just then young master -entered. With quiet, saintly manner, taking his seat at the table, he -said, - -"Is not the abolition power strong at the North, Miss Emily?" - -"Oh, no, Johnny, 'tis comparatively small; confined, I assure you, to a -few fanatical spirits. The merchants of New York, Boston, and the other -Northern cities, carry on a too extensive commerce with the South to -adopt such dangerous sentiments. There is a comity of men as well as -States; and the clever rule of 'let alone' is pretty well observed." - -Young master made no reply in words, but fixed his large, mysterious -eyes steadfastly upon her. Was it mournfulness that streamed, with a -purple light, from them, or was it a sublimated contempt? He said -nothing, but quietly ate his breakfast. His fare was as homely as that -of an ascetic; he never used meat, and always took bread without -butter. A simple crust and glass of milk, three times a day, was his -diet. Miss Jane gave him a careless and indifferent glance, then -proceeded with the conversation, totally unconscious of his presence; -but again and again he cast furtive, anxious glances toward her, and I -thought I noticed him sighing. - -"What will father do with Lindy, if she should be caught?" asked Miss -Tildy. - -"Send her down the river, of course," was Miss Jane's response. - -"She deserves it," said Miss Tildy. - -"Does she?" asked the deep, earnest voice of young master. - -Was it because he was unused to asking questions, or was there something -in the strange earnestness of his tone, that made those three ladies -start so suddenly, and regard him with such an astonished air? Yet none -of them replied, and thus for a few moments conversation ceased, until -he rose from the table and left the room. - -"He is a strange youth," said Miss Bradly, "and how wondrously handsome! -He always suggests romantic notions." - -"Yes, but I think him very stupid. He never talks to any of us--is -always alone, seeks old and unfrequented spots; neither in the winter -nor summer will he remain within doors. Something seems to lure him to -the wood, even when despoiled of its foliage. He must be slightly -crazed--ma's health was feeble for some time previous to his birth, -which the doctors say has injured his constitution, and I should not be -surprised if his intellect had likewise suffered." This speech was -pronounced by Miss Tildy in quite an oracular tone. - -Miss Bradly made no answer, and I marvelled not at her changing color. -Had she not power to read, in that noble youth's voice and manner, the -high enduring truth and singleness of purpose that dwelt in his nature? -Though he had never spoken one word in relation to slavery, I knew that -all his instincts were against it; and that opposition to it was the -principle deeply ingrained in his heart. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -RECOLLECTIONS--CONSOLING INFLUENCE OF SYMPATHY--AMY'S DOCTRINE OF THE -SOUL--TALK AT THE SPRING. - - -As Mr. Peterkin was passing through the vestibule of the front door, he -met young master standing there. Now, this was Mr. Peterkin's favorite -child, for, though he did not altogether like that quietude of manner, -which he called "poke-easy," the boy had never offered him any affront -about his incorrect language, or treated him with indignity in any way. -And then he was so beautiful! True, his father could not appreciate the -spiritual nobility of his face; yet the symmetry of his features and the -spotless purity of his complexion, answered even to Mr. Peterkin's idea -of beauty. The coarsest and most vulgar soul is keenly alive to the -beauty of the rose and lily; though that concealed loveliness, which is -only hinted at by the rare fragrance, may be known only to the -cultivated and poetic heart. Often I have heard him say, "John is pretty -enoff to be a gal." - -Now as he met him in the vestibule, he said, "John, I'm in a peck o' -trouble." - -"I am sorry you are in trouble father." - -"That cussed black wench, Lindy, is off, and I'm 'fraid the neighborhood -kant be waked up soon enough to go arter and ketch her. Let me git her -once more in my clutches, and I'll make her pay for it. I'll give her -one good bastin' that she'll 'member, and then I'll send her down the -river fur enough." - -The boy made no reply; but, with his eyes cast down on the earth, he -seemed to be unconscious of all that was going on around him. When he -raised his head his eyes were burning, his breath came thick and short, -and a deep scarlet spot shone on the whiteness of his cheek; the veins -in his forehead lay like heavy cords, and his very hair seemed to -sparkle. He looked as one inspired. This was unobserved by his parent, -who hastily strode away to find more willing listeners. I tarried in a -place where, unnoticed by others, I commanded a good out-look. I saw -young master clasp his hands fervently, and heard him passionately -exclaim--"How much longer, oh, how much longer shall this be?" Then -slowly walking down his favorite path, he was lost to my vision. -"Blessed youth, heaven-missioned, if thou wouldst only speak to me! One -word of consolation from God-anointed lips like thine, would soothe even -the sting of bondage; but no," I added, "that earnest look, that gentle -tone, tell perhaps as much as it is necessary for me to know. This -silence proceeds from some noble motive. Soon enough he will make -himself known to us." - -In a little while the news of Lindy's departure had spread through the -neighborhood like a flame. Our yard and house were filled with men come -to offer their services to their neighbor, who, from his wealth, was -considered a sort of magnate among them. - -Pretty soon they were mounted on horses, and armed to the teeth, each -one with a horn fastened to his belt, galloping off in quest of the poor -fugitive. And is this thing done beneath the influence of civilized -laws, and by men calling themselves Christians? What has armed those -twelve men with pistols, and sent them on an excursion like this? Is it -to redeem a brother from a band of lawless robbers, who hold him in -captivity? Is it to right some individual wrong? Is it to take part with -the weak and oppressed against the strong and the overbearing? No, no, -my friends, on no such noble mission as this have they gone. No purpose -of high emprise has made them buckle on the sword and prime the pistol. -A poor, lone female, who, through years, has been beaten, tyrannized -over, and abused, has ventured out to seek what this constitution -professes to secure to every one--liberty. Barefoot and alone, she has -gone forth; and 'tis to bring her back to a vile and brutal slavery -that these men have sallied out, regardless of her sex, her destitution, -and her misery. They have set out either to recapture her or to shoot -her down in her tracks like a dog. And this is a system which Christian -men speak of as heaven-ordained! This is a thing countenanced by -freemen, whose highest national boast is, that theirs is the land of -liberty, equality, and free-rights! These are the people who yearly send -large sums to Ireland; who pray for the liberation of Hungary; who wish -to transmit armed forces across the Atlantic to aid vassal States in -securing their liberty! These are they who talk so largely of Cuba, -expend so much sympathy upon the oppressed of other lands, and predict -the downfall of England for her oppressive form of government! Oh, -America! "first pluck the beam out of thine own eye, then shalt thou see -more clearly the mote that is in thy brother's." - -When I watched those armed men ride away, in such high courage and -eagerness for the hunt, I thought of Lindy, poor, lone girl, fatigued, -worn and jaded, suffering from thirst and hunger; her feet torn and -bruised with toil, hiding away in bogs and marshes, with an ear -painfully acute to every sound. I thought of this, and all the -resentment I had ever felt toward her faded away as a vapor. - -All that day the house was in a state of intense excitement. The -servants could not work with their usual assiduity. Indeed, such was the -excitement, even of the white family, that we were not strictly required -to labor. - -Miss Jane gave me some fancy-sewing to do for her. Taking it with me to -Aunt Polly's cabin, intending to talk with her whilst time was allowed -me, I was surprised and pleased to find the old woman still asleep. "It -will do her good," I thought, "she needs rest, poor creature! And that -blow was given to her on my account! How much I would rather have -received it myself." I then examined her head, and was glad to find no -mark or bruise; so I hoped that with a good sleep she would wake up -quite well. I seated myself on an old stool, near the door, which, -notwithstanding the rawness of the day, I was obliged to leave open to -admit light. It was a cool, windy morning, such as makes a woollen shawl -necessary. My young mistresses had betaken themselves to cashmere -wrappers and capes; but I still wore my thin and "seedy" calico. As I -sewed on, upon Miss Jane's embroidery, many _fancies_ came in troops -through my brain, defiling like a band of ghosts through each private -gallery and hidden nook of memory, and even to the very inmost -compartment of secret thought! My mother, with her sad, sorrow-stricken -face, my old companions and playfellows in the long-gone years, all -arose with vividness to my eye! Where were they all? Where had they been -during the lapse of years? Of my mother I had never heard a word. Was -she dead? At that suggestion I started, and felt my heart grow chill, as -though an icy hand had clenched it; yet why felt I so? Did I not know -that the grave would be to her as a bed of ease? What torture could -await her beyond the pass of the valley of shadows? She, who had been -faithful over a little, would certainly share in those blessed rewards -promised by Christ; yet it seemed to me that my heart yearned to look -upon her again in this life. I could not, without pain, think of her as -_one who had been_. There was something selfish in this, yet was it -intensely human, and to feel otherwise I should have had to be less -loving, less filial in my nature. "Oh, mother!" I said, "if ever we meet -again, will it be a meeting that shall know no separation? Mother, are -you changed? Have you, by the white man's coarse brutality, learned to -forget your absent child? Do not thoughts of her often come to your -lonely soul with the sighing of the midnight wind? Do not the high and -merciful stars, that nightly burn above you, recall me to your heart? -Does not the child-loved moon speak to you of times when, as a little -thing, I nestled close to your bosom? Or, mother, have other ties grown -around your heart? Have other children supplanted your eldest-born? Do -chirruping lips and bright eyes claim all your thoughts? Or do you toil -alone, broken in soul and bent in body, beneath the drudgery of human -labor, without one soft voice to lull you to repose? Oh, not this, not -this, kind Heaven! Let her forget me, in her joy; give her but peace, -and on me multiply misfortunes, rain down evils, only spare, shield and -protect _her_." This tide of thought, as it rolled rapidly through my -mind, sent the hot tears, in gushes, from my eyes. As I bent my head to -wipe them away, without exactly seeing it, I became aware of a blessed -presence; and, lifting my moist eyes, I beheld young master standing -before me, with that calm, spiritual glance which had so often charmed -and soothed me. - -"What is the matter, Ann? Why are you weeping?" he asked me in a gentle -voice. - -"Nothing, young Master, only I was thinking of my mother." - -"How long since you saw her?" - -"Oh, years, young Master; I have not seen her since my childhood--not -since Master bought me." - -He heaved a deep sigh, but said nothing; those eyes, with a soft, -shadowed light, as though they were shining through misty tears, were -bent upon me. - -"Where is your mother now, Ann?" - -"I don't know, young Master, I've never heard from her since I came -here." - -Again he sighed, and now he passed his thin white hand across his eyes, -as if to dissipate the mist. - -"You think she was sold when you were, don't you?" - -"I expect she was. I'm almost sure she was, for I don't think either my -young Masters or Mistresses wished or expected to retain the servants." - -"I wish I could find out something about her for you; but, at present, -it is out of my power. You must do the best you can. You are a good -girl, Ann; I have noticed how patiently you bear hard trouble. Do you -pray?" - -"Oh, yes, young Master, and that is all the pleasure I have. What would -be my situation without prayer? Thanks to God, the slave has this -privilege!" - -"Yes, Ann, and in God's eyes you are equal to a white person. He makes -no distinction; your soul is as precious and dear to Him as is that of -the fine lady clad in silk and gems." - -I opened my eyes to gaze upon him, as he stood there, with his beautiful -face beaming with good feeling and love for the humblest and lowest of -God's creatures. This was religion! This was the spirit which Christ -commended. This was the love which He daily preached and practiced. - -"But how is Aunt Polly? I heard that she was suffering much." - -"She is sleeping easily now," I replied. - -"Well, then, don't disturb her. It is better that she should sleep;" and -he walked away, leaving me more peaceful and happy than before. Blessed -youth!--why have we not more such among us! They would render the thongs -and fetters of slavery less galling. - -The day was unusually quiet; but the frostiness of the atmosphere kept -the ladies pretty close within doors; and Mr. Peterkin had, contrary to -the wishes of his family, and the injunctions of his physician, gone out -with the others upon the search; besides, he had taken Nace and the -other men with him, and, as Aunt Polly was sick, Ginsy had been -appointed in her place to prepare dinner. After sewing very diligently -for some time, I wandered out through the poultry lot, lost in a -labyrinth of strange reflection. As I neared the path leading down -toward the spring, young master's favorite walk, I could not resist the -temptation to follow it to its delightful terminus, where he was wont to -linger all the sunny summer day, and frequently passed many hours in the -winter time? I was superstitious enough to think that some of his deep -and rich philanthropy had been caught, as by inspiration, from this -lovely natural retreat; for how could the child of such a low, beastly -parent, inherit a disposition so heavenly, and a soul so spotless? He -had been bred amid scenes of the most revolting cruelty; had lived with -people of the harshest and most brutal dispositions; yet had he -contracted from them no moral stain. Were they not hideous to look upon, -and was he not lovely as a seraph? Were they not low and vulgar, and he -lofty and celestial-minded? Why and how was this? Ah, did I not believe -him to be one of God's blessed angels, lent us for a brief season? - -The path was well-trodden, and wound and curved through the woods, down -to a clear, natural spring of water. There had been made, by the order -of young master, a turfetted seat, overgrown by soft velvet moss, and -here this youth would sit for hours to ponder, and, perhaps, to weave -golden fancies which were destined to ripen into rich fruition in that -land beyond the shores of time. As I drew near the spring, I imagined -that a calm and holy influence was settling over me. The spirit of the -place had power upon me, and I yielded myself to the spell. It was no -disease of fancy, or dream of enchantment, that thus possessed me; for -there, half-reclining on the mossy bench, I beheld young master, and, -seated at his feet, with her little, odd, wondering face uplifted to -his, was Amy; and, crawling along, playing with the moss, and looking -down into the mirror of the spring, peered the bright eyes of little -Ben. It was a scene of such beauty that I paused to take a full view of -it, before making my presence known. Young master, with his pale, -intellectual face, his classic head, his sun-bright curls, and his -earnest blue eyes, sat in a half-lounging attitude, making no -inappropriate picture of an angel of light, whilst the two little black -faces seemed emblems of fallen, degraded humanity, listening to his -pleading voice. - -"Wherever you go, or in whatever condition you may be, Amy, never forget -to pray to the good Lord." As he said this, he bent his eyes -compassionately on her. - -"Oh, laws, Masser, how ken I pray! de good Lord wouldn't hear me. I is -too black and dirty." - -"God does not care for that. You are as dear to Him as the finest lady -of the land." - -"Oh, now, Masser, you doesn't tink me is equal to you, a fine, nice, -pretty white gemman--dress so fine." - -"God cares not, my child, for clothes, or the color of the skin. He -values the heart alone; and if your heart is clear, it matters not -whether your face be black or your clothes mean." - -"Laws, now, young Masser," and the child laughed heartily at the idea, -"you doesn't 'spect a nigger's heart am clean. I tells you 'tis black -and dirty as dere faces." - -"My poor child, I would that I had power to scatter the gloomy mist that -beclouds your mind, and let you see and know that our dying Saviour -embraced all your unfortunate race in the merits of his divine -atonement." - -This speech was not comprehended by Amy. She sat looking vacantly at -him; marvelling all the while at his pretty talk, yet never once -believing that Jesus prized a negro's soul. Young master's eyes were, as -usual, elevated to the clear, majestic heavens. Not a cloud floated in -the still, serene expanse, and the air was chill. One moment longer I -waited, before revealing myself. Stepping forward, I addressed young -master in an humble tone. - -"Well, Ann, what do you want?" This was not said in a petulant voice, -but with so much gentleness that it invited the burdened heart to make -its fearful disclosure. - -"Oh, young Master, I know that you will pardon me for what I am going to -ask. I cannot longer restrain myself. Tell me what is to become of us? -When shall we be sold? Into whose hands shall I fall?" - -"Alas, poor Ann, I am as ignorant of father's intentions as you are. I -would that I could relieve your anxiety, but I am as uneasy about it as -you or any one can be. Oh, I am powerless to do anything to better your -unfortunate condition. I am weak as the weakest of you." - -"I know, young Master, that we have your kindest sympathy, and this -knowledge softens my trouble." - -He did not reply, but sat with a perplexed expression, looking on the -ground. - -"Oh, Ann, you has done gin young Masser some trouble. What fur you do -dat? We niggers ain't no 'count any how, and you hab no sort ob -bisiness be troublin' young Masser 'bout it," said Amy. - -"Be still, Amy, let Ann speak her troubles freely. It will relieve her -mind. You may tell me of yours too." - -Sitting down upon the sward, close to his feet, I relieved my oppressed -bosom by a copious flood of tears. Still he spoke not, but sat silent, -looking down. Amy was awed into stillness, and even little Ben became -calm and quiet as a lamb. No one broke the spell. No one seemed anxious -to do so. There are some feelings for which silence is the best -expression. - -At length he said mildly, "Now, my good friends, it might be made the -subject of ungenerous remarks, if you were to be seen talking with me -long. You had better return to the house." - -As Amy and I, with little Ben, rose to depart, he looked after us, and -sighing, exclaimed, "poor creatures, my heart bleeds for you!" - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -THE PRATTLINGS OF INSANITY--OLD WOUNDS REOPEN--THE WALK TO THE -DOCTOR'S--INFLUENCE OF NATURE. - - -Upon my return to the house I hastened on to the cabin, hoping to find -Aunt Polly almost entirely recovered. Passing hastily through the yard I -entered the cabin with a light step, and to my surprise found her -sitting up in a chair, playing with some old faded artificial flowers, -the dilapidated decorations of Miss Tildy's summer bonnet, which had -been swept from the house with the litter on the day before. I had never -seen her engaged in a pastime so childish and sportive, and was not a -little astonished, for her aversion to flowers had often been to me the -subject of remark. - -"What have you there that is pretty, Aunt Polly?" I asked with -tenderness. - -With a wondering, childish smile, she held the crushed blossoms up, and -turning them over and over in her hands, said: - -"Putty things! ye is berry putty!" then pressing them to her bosom, she -stroked the leaves as kindly as though she had been smoothing the truant -locks of a well-beloved child. I could not understand this freak, for -she was one to whose uncultured soul all sweet and pretty fancies seemed -alien. Looking up to me with that vacant glance which at once explained -all, she said: - -"Who's dar? Who is you? Oh, dat is my darter," and addressing me by the -remembered name of her own long-lost child, she traversed, in thought, -the whole waste-field of memory. Not a single wild-flower in the wayside -of the heart was neglected or forgotten. She spoke of times when she had -toyed and dandled her infant darling upon her knee; then, shudderingly, -she would wave me off, with terror written all over her furrowed face, -and cry, "Get you away, Masser is comin': thar, thar he is; see him wid -de ropes; he is comin' to tar you 'way frum me. Here, here child, git -under de bed, hide frum 'em, dey is all gwine to take you 'way--'way -down de river, whar you'll never more see yer poor old mammy." Then -sinking upon her knees, with her hands outstretched, and her eyes -eagerly strained forward, and bent on vacancy, she frantically cried: - -"Masser, please, please Masser, don't take my poor chile from me. It's -all I is got on dis ar' airth; Masser, jist let me hab it and I'll work -fur you, I'll sarve you all de days ob my life. You may beat my ole back -as much as you please; you may make me work all de day and all de night, -jist, so I ken keep my chile. Oh, God, oh, God! see, dere dey goes, wid -my poor chile screaming and crying for its mammy! See, see it holds its -arms to me! Oh, dat big hard man struck it sich a blow. Now, now dey is -out ob sight." And crawling on her knees, with arms outspread, she -seemed to be following some imaginary object, until, reaching the door, -I feared in her transport of agony she would do herself some injury, -and, catching her strongly in my arms, I attempted to hold her back; but -she was endowed with a superhuman strength, and pushed me violently -against the wall. - -"Thar, you wretch, you miserble wretch, dat would keep me from my chile, -take dat blow, and I wish it would send yer to yer grave." - -Recoiling a few steps, I looked at her. A wild and lurid light gathered -in her eye, and a fiendish expression played over her face. She clenched -her hands, and pressed her old broken teeth hard upon her lips, until -the blood gushed from them; frothing at the mouth, and wild with -excitement, she made an attempt to bound forward and fell upon the -floor. I screamed for help, and sprang to lift her up. Blood oozed from -her mouth and nose; her eyes rolled languidly, and her under-jaw fell as -though it were broken. - -In terror I bore her to the bed, and, laying her down, I went to get a -bowl of water to wash the blood and foam from her face. Meeting Amy at -the door, I told her Aunt Polly was very sick, and requested her to -remain there until my return. - -I fled to the kitchen, and seizing a pan of water that stood upon the -shelf, returned to the cabin. There I found young master bending over -Aunt Polly, and wiping the blood-stains from her mouth and nose with his -own handkerchief. This was, indeed, the ministration of the high to the -lowly. This generous boy never remembered the distinctions of color, but -with that true spirit of human brotherhood which Christ inculcated by -many memorable examples, he ministered to the humble, the lowly, and the -despised. Indeed, such seemed to take a firmer hold upon his heart. -Here, in this lowly cabin, like the good Samaritan of old, he paused to -bind up the wounds of a poor outcast upon the dreary wayside of -existence. - -Bending tenderly over Aunt Polly, until his luxuriant golden curls swept -her withered face, he pressed his linen handkerchief to her mouth and -nose to staunch the rapid flow of blood. - -"Oh, Ann, have you come with the water? I fear she is almost gone; throw -it in her face with a slight force, it may revive her," he said in a -calm tone. - -I obeyed, but there was no sign of consciousness. After one or two -repetitions she moved a little, young master drew a bottle of sal -volatile from his pocket, and applied it to her nose. The effect was -sudden; she started up spasmodically, and looking round the room laughed -wildly, frightfully; then, shaking her head, her face resumed its look -of pitiful imbecility. - -"The light is quenched, and forever," said young master, and the tears -came to his eyes and rolled slowly down his cheeks. Amy, with Ben in her -arms, stood by in anxious wonder; creeping up to young master's side, -she looked earnestly in his face, saying-- - -"Don't cry, Masser, Aunt Polly will soon be well; she jist sick for -little while. De lick Masser gib her only hurt her little time,--she -'most well now, but her does look mighty wild." - -"Oh, Lord, how much longer must these poor people be tried in the -furnace of affliction? How much longer wilt thou permit a suffering race -to endure this harsh warfare? Oh, Divine Father, look pityingly down on -this thy humble servant, who is so sorely tried." The latter part of the -speech was uttered as he sank upon his knees; and down there upon the -coarse puncheon floor we all knelt, young master forming the central -figure of the group, whilst little Amy, the baby-boy Ben, and the poor -lunatic, as if in mimicry, joined us. We surrounded him, and surely that -beautiful heart-prayer must have reached the ear of God. When such -purity asks for grace and mercy upon the poor and unfortunate, the ear -of Divine grace listens. - -"What fur you pray?" asked the poor lunatic. - -"I ask mercy for sore souls like thine." - -"Oh, dat is funny; but say, sir, whar is my chile? Whar is she? Why -don't she come to me? She war here a minnit ago; but now she does be -gone away." - -"Oh, what a mystery is the human frame! Lyre of the spirit, how soon is -thy music jarred into discord." Young master uttered this rhapsody in a -manner scarcely audible, but to my ear no sound of his was lost, not a -word, syllable, or tone! - -"Poor Luce--is dat Luce?" and the poor, crazed creature stared at me -with a bewildered gaze! "and my baby-boy, whar is he, and my oldest -sons? Dey is all gone from me and forever." She began to weep piteously. - -"Watch with her kindly till I send Jake for the doctor," he said to me; -then rallying himself, he added, "but they are all gone--gone upon that -accursed hunt;" and, seating himself in a chair, he pressed his fingers -hard upon his closed eye-lids. "Stay, I will go myself for the -doctor--she must not be neglected." - -And rising from his chair he buttoned his coat, and, charging me to take -good care of her, was about starting, but Aunt Polly sprang forward and -caught him by the arms, exclaiming, - -"Oh, putty, far angel, don't leab me. I kan't let you leab me--stay -here. I has no peace when you is gone. Dey will come and beat me agin, -and dey will take my chil'en frum me. Oh, please now, you stay wid me." - -And she held on to him with such a pitiful fondness, and there was so -much anxiety in her face, such an infantile look of tenderness, with the -hopeless vacancy of idiocy in the eye, that to refuse her would have -been harsh; and of this young master was incapable. So, turning to me, -he said, - -"You go, Ann, for the doctor, and I will stay with her--poor old -creature I have never done anything for her, and now I will gratify -her." - -As the horses had all been taken by the pursuers of Lindy, I was forced -to walk to Dr. Mandy's farm, which was about two miles distant from Mr. -Peterkin's. I was glad of this, for of late it was indeed but seldom -that I had been allowed to indulge in a walk through the woods. All -through the leafy glory of the summer season I had looked toward the old -sequestered forest with a longing eye. Each little bird seemed wooing me -away, yet my occupations confined me closely to the house; and a -pleasure-walk, even on Sunday, was a luxury which a negro might dream of -but never indulge. Now, though it was the lonely autumn time, yet loved -I still the woods, dismantled as they were. There is something in the -grandeur of the venerable forests, that always lifts the soul to -devotion! The patriarchal trees and the delicate sward, the wind-music -and the almost ceaseless miserere of the grove, elevate the heart, and -to the cultivated mind speak with a power to which that of books is but -poor and tame. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -QUIETUDE OF THE WOODS--A GLIMPSE OF THE STRANGER--MRS. MANDY'S WORDS OF -CRUEL IRONY--SAD REFLECTIONS. - - -The freshening breeze, tempered with the keen chill of the coming -winter, made a lively music through the woods, as, floating along, it -toyed with the fallen leaves that lay dried and sere upon the earth. -There stood the giant trees, rearing their bald and lofty heads to the -heavens, whilst at their feet was spread their splendid summer livery. -Like the philosophers of old, in their calm serenity they looked away -from earth and its troubles to the "bright above." - -I wandered on, with a quick step, in the direction of the doctor's. The -recent painful events were not calculated to color my thoughts very -pleasingly; yet I had taught myself to live so entirely _within_, to be -so little affected by what was _without_, that I could be happy in -imagination, notwithstanding what was going on in the external world. -'Tis well that the negro is of an imaginative cast. Suppose he were by -nature strongly practical and matter-of-fact; life could not endure with -him. His dreaminess, his fancy, makes him happy in spite of the dreary -reality which surrounds him. The poor slave, with not a sixpence in his -pocket, dreams of the time when he shall be able to buy himself, and -revels in this most delightful Utopia. - -I had walked on for some distance, without meeting any object of special -interest, when, passing through a large "_deadening_," I was surprised -to see a gentleman seated upon a fragment of what had once been a noble -tree. He was engaged at that occupation which is commonly considered to -denote want of thought, viz., _whittling a stick_. - -I stopped suddenly, and looked at him very eagerly, for now, with the -broad day-light streaming over him, I recognized the one whom I had -watched in the dubious moonbeams! This was Mr. Robert Worth, the man who -held those dangerous Abolition principles--the fanatic, who was rash -enough to express, south of Mason and Dixon's line, the opinion that -negroes are human beings and entitled to consideration. Here now he was, -and I could look at him. How I longed to speak to him, to talk with him, -hear him tell all his generous views; to ask questions as to those free -Africans at the North who had achieved name and fame, and learn more of -the distinguished orator, Frederick Douglass! So great was my desire, -that I was almost ready to break through restraint, and, forgetful of my -own position, fling myself at his feet, and beg him to comfort me. Then -came the memory of Miss Bradly's treachery, and I sheathed my heart. -"No, no, I will not again trust to white people. They have no sympathy -with us, our natures are too simple for their cunning;" and, reflecting -thus, I walked on, yet I felt as if I could not pass him. He had spoken -so nobly in behalf of the slave, had uttered such lofty sentiments, that -my whole soul bowed down to him in worship. I longed to pay homage to -him. There is a principle in the slave's nature to reverence, to look -upward; hence, he makes the most devout Christian, and were it not for -this same spirit, he would be but a poor servant. - -So it was with difficulty I could let pass this opportunity of speaking -with one whom I held in such veneration; but I governed myself and went -on. All the distance I was pondering upon what I had heard in relation -to those of my brethren who had found an asylum in the North. Oh, once -there, I could achieve so much! I felt, within myself, a latent power, -that, under more fortunate circumstances, might be turned to advantage. -When I reached Doctor Mandy's residence I found that he had gone out to -visit a patient. His wife came out to see me, and asked, - -"Who is sick at Mr. Peterkin's?" - -I told her, "Aunt Polly, the cook." - -"Is much the matter?" - -"Yes, Madam; young master thinks she has lost her reason." - -"Lost her reason!" exclaimed Mrs. Mandy. - -"Yes, Madam; she doesn't seem to know any of us, and evidently wanders -in her thoughts." I could not repress the evidence of emotion when I -remembered how kind to me the old creature had been, nay, that for me -she had received the blow which had deprived her of reason. - -"Poor girl, don't cry," said Mrs. Mandy. This lady was of a warm, good -heart, and was naturally touched at the sight of human suffering; she -was one of that quiet sort of beings who feel a great deal and say but -little. Fearful of giving offence, she usually kept silence, lest the -open expression of her sympathy should defeat the purpose. A weak, -though a good person, she now felt annoyed because she had been beguiled -into even pity for a servant. She did not believe in slavery, yet she -dared not speak against the "peculiar institution" of the South. It -would injure the doctor's practice, a matter about which she must be -careful. - -I knew my place too well to say much; therefore I observed a respectful -silence. - -"Now, Ann, you had better hurry home. I expect there is great excitement -at your house, and the ladies will need your services to-day, -particularly; to remain out too long might excite suspicion, and be of -no service to you." - -My looks plainly showed how entire was my acquiescence. She must have -known this, and then, as if self-interest suggested it, she said, - -"You have a good home, Ann, I hope you will never do as Lindy has done. -Homes like yours are rare, and should be appreciated. Where will you -ever again find such kind mistresses and such a good master?" - -"Homes such as mine are rare!" I would that they were; but, alas! they -are too common, as many farms in Kentucky can show! Oh, what a terrible -institution this one must be, which originates and involves so many -crimes! Now, here was a kind, honest-hearted woman, who felt assured of -the criminality of slavery; yet, as it is recognized and approved by -law, she could not, save at the risk of social position, pecuniary loss -and private inconvenience, even express an opinion against it. I was the -oppressed slave of one of her wealthy neighbors; she dared not offer me -even a word of pity, but needs must outrage all my nature by telling me -that I had a "good home, kind mistresses and a good master!" Oh, bitter -mockery of torn and lacerated feelings! My blood curdled as I listened. -How much I longed to fling aside the servility at which my whole soul -revolted, and tell her, with a proud voice, how poorly I thought she -supported the dignity of a true womanhood, when thus, for the poor -reward of gold, she could smile at, and even encourage, a system which -is at war with the best interest of human nature; which aims a deadly -blow at the very machinery of society; aye, attacks the noble and -venerable institution of marriage, and breaks asunder ties which God has -commanded us to reverence! This is the policy of that institution, which -Southern people swear they will support even with their life-blood! I -have ransacked my brain to find out a clue to the wondrous infatuation. -I have known, during the years of my servitude, men who had invested -more than half of their wealth in slaves; and he is generally accounted -the greatest gentleman, who owns the most negroes. Now, there is a -reason for the Louisiana or Mississippi planter's investing largely in -this sort of property; but why the Kentucky farmer should wish to own -slaves, is a mystery: surely it cannot be for the petty ambition of -holding human beings in bondage, lording it over immortal souls! Oh, -perverse and strange human nature! Thoughts like these, with a -lightning-like power, drove through my brain and influenced my mind -against Mrs. Mandy, who, I doubt not, was, at heart, a kind, -well-meaning woman. How can the slave be a philanthropist? - -Without saying anything whereby my safety could be imperilled, I left -Mrs. Mandy's residence. When I had walked about a hundred yards from -the house, I turned and looked back, and was surprised to see her -looking after me. "Oh, white woman," I inwardly exclaimed, "nursed in -luxury, reared in the lap of bounty, with friends, home and kindred, -that mortal power cannot tear you from, how can _you_ pity the poor, -oppressed slave, who has no liberty, no right, no father, no brother, or -friend, only as the white man chooses he shall have!" Who could expect -these children of wealth, fostered by prosperity, and protected by the -law, to feel for the ignorant negro, who through ages and generations -has been crushed and kept in ignorance? We are told to love our masters! -Why should we? Are we dogs to lick the hand that strikes us? Or are we -men and women with never-dying souls--men and women unprotected in the -very land they have toiled to beautify and adorn! Oh, little, little do -ye know, my proud, free brothers and sisters in the North, of all the -misery we endure, or of the throes of soul that we have! The humblest of -us feel that we are deprived of something that we are entitled to by the -law of God and nature. - -I rambled on through the woods, wrapped in the shadows of gloom and -misanthropy. "Why," I asked myself, "can't I be a hog or dog to come at -the call of my owner? Would it not be better for me if I could repress -all the lofty emotions and generous impulses of my soul, and become a -spiritless thing? I would swap natures with the lowest insect, the -basest serpent that crawls upon the earth. Oh, that I could quench this -thirsty spirit, satisfy this hungry heart, that craveth so madly the -food and drink of knowledge! Is it right to conquer the spirit, which -God has given us? Is it best for a high-souled being to sit supinely -down and bear the vile trammels of an unnatural and immoral bondage? Are -these aspirings sent us from above? Are they wings lent the spirit from -an angel? Or must they be clipped and crushed as belonging to the evil -spirit?" As I walked on, in this state of mind, I neared the spot where -I had beheld the interesting stranger. - -To my surprise and joy I found him still there, occupied as before, in -whittling, perhaps the same stick. You, my free friends, who, from the -fortunate accident of birth, are entitled to the heritage of liberty, -can but poorly understand how very humble and degraded American slavery -makes the victim. Now, though I knew this man possessed the very -information for which I so longed, I dared not presume to address him on -a subject even of such vital import. I dare say, and indeed after-times -proved, this young apostle of reform would have applauded as heroism -what then seemed to me as audacity. - -With many a lingering look toward him, I pursued the "noiseless tenor of -my way." - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -A REFLECTION--AMERICAN ABOLITIONISTS--DISAFFECTION IN KENTUCKY--THE -YOUNG MASTER--HIS REMONSTRANCE. - - -Upon my arrival home I found that the doctor, lured by curiosity, and -not by business, had called. The news of Lindy's flight had reached him -in many garbled and exaggerated forms; so he had come to assure himself -of the truth. Of course, with all a Southern patriot's ire, he -pronounced Lindy's conduct an atrocious crime, for which she should -answer with life, or that far worse penalty (as some thought), -banishment "down the river." Thought I not strangely, severely, of those -persons, the doctor and the ladies, as they sat there, luxuriating over -a bottle of wine, denouncing vengeance against a poor, forlorn girl, who -was trying to achieve her liberty;--heroically contending for that on -which Americans pride themselves? Had she been a Hungarian or an Irish -maid, seeking an asylum from the tyranny of a King, she would have been -applauded as one whose name was worthy to be enrolled in the litany of -heroes; but she was a poor, ignorant African, with a sooty face, and -because of this all sympathy was denied her, and she was pronounced -nothing but a "runaway negro," who deserved a terrible punishment; and -the hand outstretched to relieve her, would have been called guilty of -treason. Oh, wise and boastful Americans, see ye no oppression in all -this, or do ye exult in that odious spot, which will blacken the fairest -page of your history "to the last syllable of recorded time"? Does not a -blush stain your cheeks when you make vaunting speeches about the -character of your government? Ye cannot, I know ye cannot, be easy in -your consciences; I know that a secret, unspoken trouble gnaws like a -canker in your breasts! Many of you veil your eyes, and grope through -the darkness of this domestic oppression; you will not listen to the -cries of the helpless, but sit supinely down and argue upon the "right" -of the thing. There were kind and tender-hearted Jews, who felt that the -crucifixion of the Messiah was a fearful crime, yet fear sealed their -lips. And are there not now time-serving men, who are worthy and capable -of better things, but from motives of policy will offer no word against -this barbarous system of slavery? Oh, show me the men, like that little -handful at the North, who are willing to forfeit everything for the -maintenance of human justice and mercy. Blessed apostles, near to the -mount of God! your lips have been touched with the flame of a new -Pentecost, and ye speak as never men spake before! Who that listens to -the words of Parker, Sumner, and Seward, can believe them other than -inspired? Theirs is no ordinary gift of speech; it burns and blazes with -a mighty power! Cold must be the ear that hears them unmoved; and hard -the heart that throbs not in unison with their noble and earnest -expressions! Often have I paused in this little book, to render a feeble -tribute to these great reformers. It may be thought out of place, yet I -cannot repress the desire to speak my voluntary gratitude, and, in the -name of all my scattered race, thank them for the noble efforts they -have made in our behalf! - -All the malignity of my nature was aroused against Miss Bradly, when I -heard her voice loudest in denunciation against Lindy. - -As I was passing through the room, I could catch fragments of -conversation anything but pleasing to the ear of a slave; but I had to -listen in meekness, letting not even a working muscle betray my dissent. -They were orthodox, and would not tolerate even from an equal a word -contrary to their views. - -I did not venture to ask the doctor what he thought of Aunt Polly, for -that would have been called impudent familiarity, punishable with -whipping at the "post;" but when I met young master in the entry, I -learned from him that the case was one of hopeless insanity. -Blood-letting, &c., had been resorted to, but with no effect. The doctor -gave it as his opinion that the case was "without remedy." Not knowing -that young master differed from his father and sisters, the doctor had, -in his jocose and unfeeling way, suggested that it was not much -difference; the old thing was of but little value; she was old and -worn-out. To all this young master made no other reply than a fixed look -from his meek eyes--a look which the doctor could not understand; for -the idea of sympathy with or pity for a slave would have struck him as -being a thing existing only in the bosom of a fanatical abolitionist, -whose conviction would not permit him to cross the line of Mason and -Dixon. Ah! little knew he (the coarse doctor) what a large heart full of -human charities had grown within; nay, was indigenous to this -south-western latitude. I believe, yes have reason to know, that the -pure sentiment of abolition is one that is near and dear to the heart of -many a Kentuckian; even those who are themselves the hereditary holders -of slaves are, in many instances, the most opposed to the system. This -sentiment is, perhaps, more largely developed in, and more openly -expressed by, the females of the State; and this is accounted for from -the fact that to be suspected of abolition tendencies is at once the -plague-mark whereby a man is ever after considered unfit for public -trust or political honor. It is the great question, the strong -conservative element of society. To some extent it likewise taboos, in -social circles, the woman who openly expresses such sentiments; though -as she has no popular interests to stake, in many cases her voice will -be on the side of right, not might. - -In later years I remember to have overheard a colloquy between a lady -and gentleman (both slaveholders) in Kentucky. The gentleman had vast -possessions, about one-third of which consisted of slaves. The lady's -entire wealth was in six negroes, some of them under the age of ten. -They were hired out at the highest market prices, and by the proceeds -she was supported. She had been raised in a strongly conservative -community; nay, her own family were (to use a Kentuckyism) the "pick -and choose" of the pro-slavery party. Some of them had been considered -the able vindicators of the "system;" yet she, despite the force of -education and the influence of domestic training, had broken away from -old trammels and leash-strings, and was, both in thought and expression, -a bold, ingrain abolitionist. She defied the lions in their chosen dens. -On the occasion of this conversation, I heard her say that she could not -remain happy whilst she detained in bondage those creatures who could -claim, under the Constitution, alike with her, their freedom; and so -soon as she attained her majority, she intended to liberate them. "But," -said she--and I shall never forget the mournful look of her dark -eye--"the statute of the State will not allow them to remain here ten -days after liberation; and one of these men has a wife (to whom he is -much attached), who is a slave to a master that will neither free her -nor sell her. Now, this poor captive husband would rather remain in -slavery to me, than be parted from his wife; and here is the point upon -which I always stand. I wish to be humane and just to him; and yet rid -myself from the horrid crime to which, from the accident of inheritance, -I have become accessory." The gentleman, who seemed touched by the -heroism of the girl, was beguiled into a candid acknowledgment of his -own sentiments; and freely declared to her that, if it were not for his -political aspirations, he would openly free every slave he owned, and -relieve his conscience from the weight of the "perilous stuff" that so -oppressed it. "But," said he, "were I to do it in Kentucky, I should be -politically dead. It would, besides, strike a blow at my legal practice, -and then what could I do? 'Othello's occupation would be gone.' Of what -avail, then, would be my 'quiddits, quillets; my cases, tenures and my -tricks?' I, who am high in political favor, should live to read my -shame. I, who now 'tower in my pride of place, should, by some mousing -owl, be hawked at and killed.' No, I must burden my conscience yet a -little longer." - -The lady, with all a young girl's naïve and beautiful enthusiasm, -besought him to disregard popular praise and worldly distinction. "Seek -first," said she, "the kingdom of heaven, and all things else shall be -given you;" but the gentleman had grown hard in this world's devious -wiles. He preferred throwing off his allegiance to Providence, and, -single-handed and alone, making his fate. Talk to me of your thrifty -men, your popular characters, and I instantly know that you mean a -cringing, parasitical server of the populace; one who sinks soul, spirit -and manly independence for the mere garments that cover his perishable -body, and to whom the empty plaudits of the unthinking crowd are better -music than the thankful prayer of suffering humanity. Let such an one, I -say, have his full measure of the "clapping of hands," let him hear it -all the while; for he cannot see the frown that darkens the brow of the -guardian angel, who, with a sigh, records his guilt. Go on, thou worldly -Pharisee, but the day _will come_, when the lowly shall be exalted. -Trust and wait we longer. Oh, ye who "know the right, and yet the wrong -pursue," a fearful reckoning will be yours. - -But young master was not of this sort; I felt that his lips were closed -from other and higher motives. If it had been of any avail, no matter -what the cost to himself, he would have spoken. His soul knew but one -sentiment, and that was "love to God and good will to men on earth." And -now, as he entered the room where the doctor and the ladies were seated, -and listened to their heartless conversation, he planted himself firmly -in their midst, saying: - -"Sisters, the time has come when I _must_ speak. Patiently have I lived -beneath this my father's roof, and witnessed, without uttering one word, -scenes at which my whole soul revolted; I have heard that which has -driven me from your side. On my bare knees, in the gloom of the forest, -I have besought God to soften your hearts. I have asked that the dew of -mercy might descend upon the hoary head of my father, and that womanly -gentleness might visit your obdurate hearts. I have felt that I could -give my life up a sacrifice to obtain this; but my unworthy prayers have -not yet been answered. In vain, in vain, I have hoped to see a change -in you. Are you women or fiends? How can you persecute, to the death, -poor, ignorant creatures, whose only fault is a black skin? How can you -inhumanly beat those who have no protectors but you? Reverse the case, -and take upon yourselves their condition; how would you act? Could you -bear silently the constant "wear and tear" of body, the perpetual -imprisonment of the soul? Could you surrender yourselves entirely to the -keeping of another, and that other your primal foe--one who for ages has -had his arm uplifted against your race? Suppose you every day witnessed -a board groaning with luxuries (the result of your labor) devoured by -your persecutors, whilst you barely got the crumbs; your owners dressed -in purple and fine linen, whilst you wore the coarsest material, though -all their luxury was the product of your exertion; what think you would -be right for you to do? Or suppose I, whilst lingering at the little -spring, should be stolen off, gagged and taken to Algiers, kept there in -servitude, compelled to the most drudging labor; poorly clad and -scantily fed whilst my master lived like a prince; kept in constant -terror of the lash; punished severely for every venial offence, and my -poor heart more lacerated than my body;--what would you think of me, if -a man were to tell me that, with his assistance, I could make my escape -to a land of liberty, where my rights would be recognized, and my person -safe from violence; I say what would you think, if I were to decline, -and to say I preferred to remain with the Algerines?" He paused, but -none replied. With eyes wonderingly fixed upon him, the group remained -silent. - -"You are silent all," he continued, "for conviction, like a swift arrow, -has struck your souls. Oh, God!" and he raised his eyes upward, "out of -the mouths of babes and sucklings let wisdom, holiness and truth -proceed. Touch their flinty hearts, and let the spark of grace be -emitted! Oh, sisters, know ye not that this Algerine captivity that I -have painted, is but a poor picture of the daily martyrdom which our -slaves endure? Look on that old woman, who, by a brutal blow from our -father, has been deprived of her reason. Look at that little haggard -orphan, Amy, who is the kicked football of you all. Look at the poor men -whom we have brutalized and degraded. Think of Lindy, driven by frenzy -to brave the passage to an unknown country rather than longer endure -what we have put upon her. Gaze, till your eyes are bleared, upon that -whipping-post, which rises upon our plantation; it is wet, even now, -with the blood that has gushed from innocent flesh. Look at the ill-fed, -ill-clothed creatures that live among us; and think they have immortal -souls, which we have tried to put out. Oh, ponder well upon these -things, and let this poor, wretched girl, who has sallied forth, let her -go, I say, to whatever land she wishes, and strive to forget the horrors -that haunted her here." - -Again he paused, but none of them durst reply. Inspired by their -silence, he went on: - -"And from you, Miss Bradly, I had expected better things. You were -reared in a State where the brutality of the slave system is not -tolerated. Your early education, your home influences, were all against -it. Why and how can your womanly heart turn away from its true -instincts? Is it for you, a Northerner and a woman, to put up your voice -in defence of slavery? Oh, shame! triple-dyed shame, should stain your -cheeks! Well may my sisters argue for slavery, when you, their teacher, -aid and abet them. Could you not have instilled better things into their -minds? I know full well that your heart and mind are against slavery; -but for the ease of living in our midst, enjoying our bounty, and -receiving our money, you will silence your soul and forfeit your -principles. Yea, for a salary, you will pander to this horrid crime. -Judas, for thirty pieces of silver, sold the Redeemer of the world; but -what remorse followed the dastard act! You will yet live to curse the -hour of your infamy. You might have done good. Upon the waxen minds of -these girls you might have written noble things, but you would not." - -I watched Miss Bradly closely whilst he was speaking. She turned white -as a sheet. Her countenance bespoke the convicted woman. Not an eye -rested upon her but read the truth. Starting up at length from her -chair, Miss Jane shouted out, in a theatrical way, - -"Treason! treason in our own household, and from one of our own number! -And so, Mr. John, you are the abolitionist that has sown dissension and -discontent among our domestics. We have thought you simple; but I -discover, sir, you are more knave than fool. Father shall know of this, -and take steps to arrest this treason." - -"As you please, sister Jane; you can make what report you please, only -speak the truth." - -At this she flew toward him, and, catching him by the collar, slapped -his cheeks severely. - -"Right well done," said a clear, manly voice; and, looking up, I saw Mr. -Worth standing in the open door. "I have been knocking," said he, "for -full five minutes; but I am not surprised that you did not hear me, for -the strong speech to which I have listened had force enough to overpower -the sound of a thunder-storm." - -Miss Jane recoiled a few steps, and the deepest crimson dyed her cheeks. -She made great pretensions to refinement, and could not bear, now, that -a gentleman (even though an abolitionist) should see her striking her -brother. Miss Tildy assumed the look of injured innocence, and smilingly -invited Mr. Worth to take a seat. - -"Do not be annoyed by what you have seen. Jane is not passionate; but -the boy was rude to her, and deserved a reproof." - -Without making a reply, but, with his eye fixed on young master, Mr. -Worth took the offered seat. Miss Bradly, with her face buried in her -hands, moved not; and the doctor sat playing with his half-filled glass -of wine; but young master remained standing, his eye flashing strangely, -and a bright crimson spot glowing on either cheek. He seemed to take no -note of the entrance of Mr. Worth, or in fact any of the group. There he -stood, with his golden locks falling over his white brow; and calm -serenity resting like a sunbeam on his face. Very majestic and imposing -was that youthful presence. High determination and everlasting truth -were written upon his face. With one look and a murmured "Father forgive -them, for they know not what they do," he turned away. - -"Stop, stop, my brave boy," cried Mr. Worth, "stop, and let me look upon -you. Had the South but one voice, and that one yours, this country would -soon be clear of its great dishonor." - -To this young master made no spoken reply; but the clear smile that lit -his countenance expressed his thanks; and seeing that Mr. Worth was -resolved to detain him, he said, - -"Let me go, good sir, for now I feel that I need the woods," and soon -his figure was gliding along his well-beloved path, in the direction of -the spring. Who shall say that solitary communing with Nature unfits the -soul for active life? True, indeed, it does unfit it for baseness, -sordid dealings, and low detraction, by lifting it from its low -condition, and sending it out in a broad excursiveness. - -Here, in the case of young master, was a sweet and glowing flower that -had blossomed in the wilds, and been nursed by nature only. The country -air had fanned into bloom the bud of virtue and the beauty of highest -truth. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -THE RETURN OF THE HUNTERS FLUSHED WITH SUCCESS--MR. PETERKIN'S VAGARY. - - -As young Master strode away, Misses Jane and Tildy regarded each other -in silent wonder. At length the latter, who caught the cue from her -sister, burst forth in a violent laugh, that I can define only by -calling it a romping laugh, so full of forced mirth. Miss Jane took up -the echo, and the house resounded with their assumed merriment. No one -else, however, seemed to take the infection; and they had the fun all to -themselves. - -"Well, Ann," said Miss Tildy, putting on a quizzical air, "I suppose you -have been very much edified by your young master's explosion of -philanthropy and good-will toward you darkies." - -Too well I knew my position to make an answer; so there I stood, silent -and submissive. - -"Oh, yes, I suppose this young renegade has delivered abolition lectures -in the kitchen hall, to his 'dearly belubed' brederen ob de colored -race," added Miss Matilda, intending to be vastly witty. - -"I think we had better send him on to an Anti-slavery convention, and -give him a seat 'twixt Lucy Stone and Fred Douglas. Wouldn't his white -complexion contrast well with that of the sable orator?" and this Miss -Jane designed should be exceedingly pungent. - -Still no one answered. Mr. Worth's face wore a troubled expression; the -doctor still played with his wine-glass; and Miss Bradly's face was -buried deeper in her hands. - -"Suppose father had been here; what do you think he would have said?" -asked Miss Jane. - -This, no doubt, recalled Dr. Mandy to the fact that Mr. Peterkin's -patronage was well worth retaining, so he must speak _now_. - -"Oh, your father, Miss Jane, is such a sensible man, that he would -consider it only the freak of an imprudent beardless boy." - -"Is, then," I asked myself, "all expressed humanity but idle gibberish? -Is it only beardless boys who can feel for suffering slaves? Is all -noble philanthropy voted vapid by sober, serious, reflecting manhood? If -so, farewell hope, and welcome despair!" I looked at Mr. Worth; but his -face was rigid, and a snowy pallor overspread his gentle features. He -was young, and this was his first visit to Kentucky. In his home at the -North he had heard many stories of the manner in which slavery was -conducted in the West and South; but the stories, softened by distance, -had reached him in a mild form, consequently he was unprepared for what -he had witnessed since his arrival in Kentucky. He had, though desiring -liberty alike for all, both white and black, looked upon the system as -an unjust and oppressive one, but he had no thought that it existed in -the atrocious and cruel form which fact, not report, had now revealed to -him. His whole soul shuddered and shrivelled at what he saw. He -marvelled how the skies could be so blue and beautiful; how the flowers -could spring so lavishly, and the rivers roll so majestically, and the -stars burn so brightly over a land dyed with such horrible crimes. - -"Father will not deal very leniently with this boy's follies; he will -teach Johnny that there's more virtue in honoring a father, than in -equalizing himself with negroes." Here Miss Jane tossed her head -defiantly. - -Just then a loud noise was heard from the avenue, and, looking out the -window, we descried the hunters returning crowned with exultation, for, -alas! poor Lindy had been found, and there, handcuffed, she marched -between a guard of Jake on the one side, and Dan on the other. There -were marks of blood on her brow, and her dress was here and there -stained. Cool as was the day, great drops of perspiration rolled off her -face. With her head bowed low on her breast, she walked on amid the -ribald jests of her persecutors. - -"Well, we has cotch dis 'ere runaway gal, and de way we did chase her -down is nuffen to nobody," said old Nace, who had led the troop. "I -tells you it jist takes dis here nigger and his hounds to tree the -runaway. I reckons, Miss Lindy, you'll not be fur trying ob it agin." - -"No, dat hab fixed her," replied the obsequious Jake. Dan laughed -heartily, showing his stout teeth. - -"Now, Masser," said Nace, as taking off his remnant of a hat he scraped -his foot back, and grinned terribly, "dis ar' nigger, if you pleases, -sar, would like to hab a leetle drap ob de critter dat you promise to -him." - -"Oh, yes, you black rascal, you wants some ob my fust-rate whiskey, does -you? Wal, I 'spects, as you treed dat ar' d----d nigger-wench, you -desarves a drap or so." - -"Why, yes, Masser, you see as how I did do my best for to ketch her, and -I is right much tired wid de run. You sees dese old legs is gettin' -right stiff; dese jints ain't limber like Jake and Dan's dar, yet I -tink, Masser, I did de bestest, an' I ought to hab a leetle drap de -most, please, sar." - -"Come, 'long, come 'long, boys, arter we stores dis gal away I'll gib -you yer dram." - -There had stood poor Lindy, never once looking up, crestfallen, broken -in heart, and bruised in body, awaiting a painful punishment, scarce -hoping to escape with life and limb. Striking her a blow with his huge -riding-whip, Mr. Peterkin shouted, "off with you to the lock-up!" - -Now, that which was technically termed the "lock-up," was an old, strong -building, which had once been used as a smoke-house, but since the -erection of a new one, was employed for the very noble purpose of -confining negroes. It was a dark, damp place, without a window, and but -one low door, through which to enter. In this wretched place, bound and -manacled, the poor fugitive was thrust. - -"There, you may run off if you ken," said Mr. Peterkin, as he drew the -rough door to, and fastened on the padlock with the dignified air of a -regularly-installed jailer. "Now, boys, come 'long and git the liquor." - -This pleasing announcement seemed to give an additional impetus to the -spirits of the servants, and, with many a "ha, ha, ha," they followed -their master. - -"Well, father," said Miss Jane, whilst she stood beside Mr. Peterkin, -who was accurately measuring out a certain quantity of whiskey to the -three smiling slaves, who stood holding their tin cups to receive it, "I -am glad you succeeded in arresting that audacious runaway. Where did you -find her? Who was with her? How did she behave? Oh, tell me all about -the adventure; it really does seem funny that such a thing should have -occurred in our family; and now that the wretch has been caught, I can -afford to laugh at it." - -"Wal," answered Mr. Peterkin, as he replaced the cork in the brown jug, -and proceeded to lock it up in his private closet, "you does ax the most -questions in one breath of any gal I ever seed in all my life. Why, I -haint bin in the house five minutes, and you has put more questions to -me than a Philadelphy lawyer could answer. 'Pon my soul, Jane, you is a -fast 'un." - -"Never mind my fastness, father, but tell me what I asked." - -"Wal, whar is I to begin? You axed whar Lindy was found? These dogs -hunted her to Mr. Farland's barn. Thar they 'gan to smell and snort -round and cut up all sorts of capers, and old Nace clumb up to the hay -loft, and sung out, in a loud voice, 'Here she am, here she am.' Then I -hearn a mighty scrambling and shufflin' up dar, so I jist springed up -arter Nace, and thar was the gal, actually fightin' with Nace, who -wanted to fetch her right down to the ground whar we was a waitin'. I -tells you, now, one right good lick from my powder-horn fetched her all -right. She soon seen it was no kind of use to be opposin' of us, and so -she jist sot down right willin'. I then fetched several good licks, and -she knowed how to do, kase, when I seed I had drawed the blood, I didn't -kere to beat her any more. So I ordered her to git down outen that ar' -loft quicker than she got up. Then we bound her hands, and driv her long -through the woods like a bull. I tells you she was mighty-much 'umbled -and shamed; every now and thin she'd blubber out a cryin', but my whup -soon shot up her howlin'." - -"I've a great notion to go," said Jane, "and torment her a little more, -the impudent hussy! I wonder if she thinks we will ever take her back to -live with us. She has lost a good home, for she shall not come here any -more. I want you to sell her, father, and at the highest price, to a -regular trader." - -"That will I do, and there is a trader in this very neighborhood now. -I'll ride over this arternoon and make 'rangements with him fur her -sale. But come, Jane, I is powerful hungry; can't you git me something -to eat?" - -"But, father, I have a word to say with you in private, draw near me." - -"What ails you now, gals?" he said, as Miss Tildy joined them, with a -perplexed expression of countenance. As he drew close to them I heard -Miss Jane say, through her clenched teeth, in a hissing tone: - -"Old Polly is insane; lost her reason from that blow which you gave her. -Do you think they could indict you?" - -"Who, in the name of h--l, can say that I struck her? Who saw it? No, -I'd like fur to see the white man that would dar present Jeems Peterkin -afore the Grand Jury, and a nigger darn't think of sich a thing, kase as -how thar testimony ain't no count." - -"Then we are safe," both of the ladies simultaneously cried. - -"But whar is that d----d old hussy? She ain't crazy, only 'possuming so -as to shuffle outen the work. Let me git to her once, and I'll be bound -she will step as smart as ever. One shake of the old cowhide will make -her jump and talk as sensible as iver she did." - -"'Tisn't worth while, father, going near her. I tell you, Doctor Mandy -says she is a confirmed lunatic." - -"I tells yer I knows her constitution better 'an any of yer, doctors, -and all; and this here cowhide is allers the best medicine fur niggers; -they ain't like the white folks, no how nor ways." - -So saying he, followed by his daughters, went to the cabin where poor -Aunt Polly was sitting, in all the touching simplicity of second -childhood, playing with some bits of ribbon, bright-colored calico, and -flashy artificial flowers. Looking up with a vacant stare at the group -she spoke not, but, slowly shaking her head in an imbecile way, -murmured: - -"These are putty, but yer mustn't take 'em frum me; dese am all dat dis -ole nigger hab got, dese here am fadder, mudder, hustbund, an chile. Lit -me keep 'em." - -"You old fool, what's you 'bout, gwine on at this here rate? Don't you -know I is yer master, and will beat the very life outen yer, if yer -don't git up right at once?" - -"Now who is yer? Sure now, an' dis old nigger doesn't know yer. Yer is a -great big man, dat looks so cross and bad at me. I wish yer would go on -'bout yer own bisness, and be a lettin' me 'lone. I ain't a troublin' of -yer, no way." - -"You ain't, arnt yer, you old fool? but I'll give yer a drap of medicine -that'll take the craze outen yer, and make yer know who yer master is. -How does you like that, and this, and this?" and, suiting the action to -the word, he dealt her blow after blow, in the most ferocious manner. -Her shoulders were covered with blood that gushed from the torn flesh. A -low howl (it could only be called a howl) burst from her throat, and -flinging up her withered hands, she cried, "Oh, good Lord Jesus, come -and help thy poor old servant, now in dis her sore time ob trouble." - -"The Lord Jesus won't hear sich old nigger wretches as you," said Mr. -Peterkin. - -"Oh, yes, de Lord Jesus will. He 'peared to me but a leetle bit ago, -and he was all dressed in white, wid a gold crown upon His head, and His -face war far and putty like young Masser's, only it seemed to be heap -brighter, and he smiled at dis poor old sufferin' nigger; and den -'peared like a low, little voice 'way down to de bottom ob my heart say, -Polly, be ob good cheer, de Lord Jesus is comin' to take you home. He no -care weder yer skin is white or black. He is gwine fur to make yer happy -in de next world. Oh, den me feel so good, me no more care for -anything." - -"All of this is a crazy fancy," said Dr. Mandy, who stepped into the -cabin; but taking hold of Polly's wrist, and holding his fingers over -her pulse, his countenance changed. "She has excessive fever, and a -strong flow of blood to the brain. She cannot live long. Put her -instantly to bed, and let me apply leeches." - -"Do yer charge extry for leeching, doctor?" asked Mr. Peterkin. - -"Oh, yes, sir, but it is not much consideration, as you are one of my -best customers." - -"I don't want to run any useless expense 'bout the old 'oman. You see -she has served my family a good many years." - -"And you are for that reason much attached to her," interposed the -doctor. - -"Not a bit of it, sir. I never was 'tached to a nigger. Even when I was -a lad I had no fancy fur 'em, not even yer bright yallow wenches; and I -ain't gwine fur to spend money on that old nigger, unless you cure her, -and make her able to work and pay fur the money that's bin laid out fur -her." - -"I can't promise to do that; neither am I certain that the leeches will -do her any material good, but they will assuredly serve to mitigate her -sufferings, by decreasing the fever, which now rages so high." - -"I don' care a cuss for that. Taint no use then of trying the leeches. -If she be gwine to die, why let her do it in the cheapest way." - -Saying this, he went off with the young ladies, the doctor following in -the wake. As he was passing through the door-way, I caught him by the -skirts of his coat. Turning suddenly round, he saw who it was, and drew -within the cabin. - -"Doctor," and I spoke with great timidity, "is she so ill? Will she, -must she die? Please try the leeches. Here," and I drew from an old -hiding-place in the wall the blessed half-dollar which Master Eddy had -given me as a keepsake. For years it had lain silently there, treasured -more fondly than Egyptian amulet or Orient gem. On some rare holiday I -had drawn it from its concealment to gloat over it with all a miser's -pride. I did not value it for the simple worth of the coin, for I had -sense enough to know that its actual value was but slight; yet what a -wealth of memories it called up! It brought _back_ the times when _I had -a mother_; when, as a happy, careless child (though a slave), I wandered -through the wild greenwood; where I ranged free as a bird, ere the -burden of a blow had been laid upon my shoulders; and when my young -master and mistress sometimes bestowed kind words upon me. The fair -locks and mild eyes of the latter gleamed upon me with dream-like -beauty. The kind, tearful face of Master Eddy, his gentle words on that -last most dreadful day that bounded and closed the last chapter of happy -childhood--all these things were recalled by the sight of this simple -little half-dollar! And now I was going to part with it. What a struggle -it was! I couldn't do it. No, I couldn't do it. It was the one _silver_ -link between me and remembered joy. To part with it would be to wipe out -the _bright_ days of my life. It would be sacrilege, in justice, a -wrong; no, I replaced it in the old faded rag (in which it had been -wrapped for years), and closed my hand convulsively over it. There stood -the doctor! He had caught sight of the gleaming coin, and (small as it -was) his cupidity was excited, and when he saw my hand closed over the -shining treasure, the smile fled from his face, and he said: - -"Girl, for what purpose did you detain me? My time is precious. I have -other patients to visit this morning, and cannot be kept here longer!" - -"Oh, doctor, try the leeches." - -"Your Master says he won't pay for them." - -"But for the sake of charity, for the value of human life, you will do -it without pay." - -"Will I, though? Trust me for that--and who will feed my wife and -children in the meantime. I can't be doctoring every old sick nigger -gratuitously. Her old fagged-out frame ain't worth the waste of my -leeches. I thought you were going to pay for it; but you see a nigger is -a nigger the world over. They are too stingy to do anything for one of -their own tribe." - -"But this money is a keepsake, a parting-gift from my young Master, who -gave it to me years ago, when I was sold. I prize it because of the -recollections which it calls up." - -"A sentimental nigger! Well, _that is_ something new; but if you cared -for that old woman's life you wouldn't hesitate," and, so saying, he -walked away. I looked upon poor Aunt Polly, and I fancied there was a -rebuking light in her feeble eye; and her withered hands seemed -stretched out to ask the help which I cruelly withheld. - -And shall I desert her who has suffered so deeply for me? Well may she -reproach me with that "piteous action"--me, who for a romantic and -fanciful feeling withhold the means of saving her life. Oh, how I blamed -myself! How wicked and selfish I thought my heart. - -"Doctor! come back, doctor! here is the money," I cried. - -He had stood but a few steps without the cabin door, doubtless expecting -this change in my sentiments. - -"You have done well, Ann, to deny yourself, and make some effort to save -the life of the old woman. You see I would have done it for nothing; but -the leeches cost me money. It is inconvenient to get them, and I have a -family, a very helpless one, to support, and you know it won't do to -neglect them, lest I be worse than a heathen and infidel. In your case, -my good girl, the case is quite different, for _niggers_ are taken care -of and supported by their Masters, and any little change that you may -have is an extra, for which you have no particular need." - -An "extra" indeed it was, and a very rare one. One that had come but -once in my life, and, God be praised, it afforded me an opportunity of -doing the good Samaritan's work! I had seen how the Levite and the -priest had neglected the wounded woman, and with this little coin I -could do a noble deed; but as to my being well-cared and provided for, I -thought the doctor had shot wide of his mark. I was surprised at the -tone of easy familiarity which he assumed toward me; but this was -explained by the fact that he was what is commonly called a jolly -fellow, and had been pretty freely indulging in the "joyful glass." -Besides, I was going to pay him; then, maybe, he felt a little ashamed -of his avarice, and sought by familiar tone and manner to beguile me, -and satisfy his conscience. - -His "medical bags" had been left in the entry, for Miss Jane, who -delighted in the Lubin-perfumed extracts, would tolerate nothing less -sweet-scented, and by her prohibitory fiat, the "bags" were denied -admittance to the house. Once, when the doctor was suddenly called to -see a white member of the family, he, either through forgetfulness or -obstinacy, violated the order, and Miss Jane had every carpet taken up -and shaken, and the floor scoured, for the odor seemed to haunt her for -weeks. Since then he had rigidly adhered to the rule; I suspect, with -many secret maledictions upon the acuteness of her olfactories. - -Now he requested me to bring the bags to him, I found them, as I had -expected, sitting in the very spot where he usually placed them. - -"There they are, doctor, now be quick. Cure her, help her, do anything, -but let her not die whilst this money can purchase her life, or afford -her ease." - -He took the coin from my hand, surveyed it for a moment, a thing that I -considered very cruel, for, all the while, the victim was suffering -uncared for, unattended to. - -"It is but a small piece, doctor, but it is my all; if I had more, you -should have it, but now please be quick in the application of your -remedy." - -"This money will pay but for a few leeches, not enough to do the -contusion much good. You see there is a great deal of diseased blood -collected at the left temple; but I'll be charitable and throw in a few -leeches, for which you can pay me at some other time, when you happen to -have money." - -"Certainly, doctor, I will give you _all_ that you demand as fast as I -get it." - -After a little scarification he applied the leeches, twelve in number, -little, sleek, sharp, needle-pointed, oily-looking things. Quickly, as -if starved, the tiny vampires commenced their work of blood-sucking. - -"She bore to be scarified better than any subject I ever saw. Not a -writhe or wince," remarked the doctor. - -Ah, thought I, she has endured too much pain to tremble at a needle -prick like that. She, whose body had bled at every pore, whose skin had -been torn and mangled until it bore a thousand scars, could surely bear, -without writhing, a pain so delicate as that. Though I thought thus, I -said not a word; for (to me) the worst part of our slavery is that we -are not allowed to speak our opinion on any subject. We are to be mutes, -save when it suits our owners to let us answer in words obsequious -enough to please their greedy love of authority. - -Silently I stood watching the leeches. From the loss of blood, Aunt -Polly seemed somewhat exhausted, and was soon soundly, sweetly sleeping. - -"Let her sleep," said the doctor, as he removed the leeches and replaced -them in a little stone vase, "when she wakes she will probably be -better, and you will then owe me one dollar and a half, as the bill is -two dollars. It would have been more, but I allow part to go for -charity." So saying he left the cabin and returned to the house. Oh, -most noble Christian "charity"! Is this the blessed quality that is -destined to "cover a multitude of sins"? He would not even leech a -half-dying woman without a pecuniary reward. Oh, far advanced whites, -fast growing in grace and ripening in holiness! - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -THE ESSAY OF WIT--YOUNG ABOLITIONIST--HIS INFLUENCE--A NIGHT AT THE DOOR -OF THE "LOCK-UP." - - -After wiping the fresh blood-stains (produced by the severe beating of -Mr. Peterkin) from Aunt Polly's shoulders, and binding up her brow to -conceal the wounds made by the leeching process, I tenderly spread the -old coverlet over her form, and then turned away from her to go about my -usual avocations. - -The doctor was just making his adieux, and the ladies had gathered round -him in quite a social and sportive way. Misses Jane and Tildy were -playfully disputing which one should take possession of his heart and -hand, in the event of Mrs. Mandy's sudden demise. All this merriment and -light-heartedness was exhibited, when but a few rods from them a poor, -old, faithful creature lay in the agonies of a torturing death, and a -young girl, who had striven for her liberty, and tried to achieve it at -a perilous risk, had just been bound, hand and foot, and cast into outer -darkness! Oh, this was a strange meeting of the extremes. What varied -colors the glass of life can show! - -At length, with many funny speeches, and promises very ridiculous, the -doctor tore himself away from the chatty group. - -Passing in and out of the house, through the hall or in the parlor, as -my business required, I saw Mr. Worth and Miss Bradly sitting quietly -and moodily apart, whilst, occasionally, Miss Tildy would flash out with -a coarse joke, or Miss Jane would speculate upon the feelings of Lindy, -in her present helpless and gloomy confinement. - -"I reckon she does not relish Canada about this time." - -"No; let us ask her _candid_ opinion of it," said Miss Tildy, who -considered herself _the wit_ of the family, and this last speech she -regarded as quite an extraordinary flash. - -"That's very good, Till," said her patronizing sister, "but you are -always witty." - -"Now, sister, ain't you ashamed to flatter me so?" and with the most -Laura Matilda-ish air, she turned her head aside and tried to blush. - -I could read, from his clear, manly glance, that Mr. Worth was sick at -heart and goaded to anguish by what he saw and heard; yet, like many -another noble man, he sat in silent endurance. Miss Jane caught the idea -of his gloom, and, with a good deal of sly, vulpine malice, determined -to annoy him. She had not for him, as Miss Tildy had, a personal -admiration; so, by way of vexing him, as well as showing off her -smartness, she asked: - -"Till, is there much Worth in Abolitionism?" - -"I don't know, but there is a _Robin_ in it." This she thought a capital -repartee. - -"Bravo! bravo, Till! who can equal you? You are the wittiest girl in -town or country." - -"Wit is a precious gift," said Mr. Worth, as he satirically elevated his -brows. - -"Indeed is it," replied Miss Tildy, "but I am not conscious of its -possession." Of course she expected he would gainsay her; but, as he was -silent, her cheeks blazed like a peony. - -"What makes Miss Bradly so quiet and seemingly lachrymose? I do believe -Johnny's Abolition lecture has given her the blues." - -"Not the lecture, but the necessity for the lecture," put in Mr. Worth. - -"What's that? what's that 'bout Aberlitionists?" exclaimed Mr. Peterkin, -as he rushed into the room. "Is there one of 'em here? Let me know it, -and my roof shan't shelter the rascal. Whar is he?" - -I looked toward Mr. Worth, for I feared that, on an occasion like this, -his principles would fail as Miss Bradly's had; but the fear was -quickly dissipated, as he replied in a manly tone: - -"I, a vindicator of the anti-slavery policy, and a denouncer of the -slave system, stand before you, and declare myself proud of my -sentiments." - -"You? ha! ha! ha! ha! that's too ridiculous; a mere boy; a stripling, no -bigger than my arm. I'd not disgrace my manhood with a fight with the -like of yer." - -"So thought Goliath when David met him in warfare; but witness the -sequel, and then say if the battle is always to the strong, or the -victory with the proud. Might is not always right. I ask to be heard for -my cause. Stripling as you call me, I am yet able to vindicate my -abolition principles upon other and higher ground than mere brute -force." - -"Oh, yes; you has larnt, I s'pose, to talk. That's all them windy -Aberlitionists ken do; they berate and talk, but they can't act." - -A contemptuous smile played over the face of Mr. Worth, but he did not -deign to answer with words. - -"Do you know, pa, that Johnny is an Abolitionist?" asked Miss Jane. - -"What! John Peterkin? my son John?" - -"The same," and Miss Jane bowed most significantly. - -"Well, that's funny enuff; but I'll soon bring it outen him. He's a -quiet lad; not much sperrit, and I guess he's hearn some 'cock and bull -story' 'bout freedom and equality. All smart boys of his age is apt to -feel that way, but he'll come outen it. It's all bekase he has hearn too -many Fourth of July speeches; but I don't fear fur him, he is sure to -come outen it. The very idee of my son's being an Aberlitionist is too -funny." - -"Funny is it, father, for your child to love mercy, and deal justly, -even with the lowliest?" As he said this, young master stood in the -doorway. He looked paler and even more spiritual than was his wont. - -Mr. Peterkin sat for full five minutes, gazing at the boy; and, strange -to say, made no reply, but strode away from the room. - -Miss Jane and Tildy regarded each other with evident surprise. They had -expected a violent outburst, and thus to see their father tamed and -subdued by the word and glance of their boy-brother, astonished them not -a little. - -Miss Tildy turned toward young master, and said, in what was meant for a -most caustic tone, - -"You are an embryo Van Amburgh, thus to tame the lion's rage." - -"But you, Tildy, are too vulpine to be fascinated even by the glance of -Van Amburgh himself." - -"Well, now, Johnny, you are getting impertinent as well as spicy." - -"Pertinent, you mean," said Mr. Worth. Miss Tildy would not look angry -at _him_; for she was besieging the fortress of his affections, and she -deemed kind measures the most advantageous. - -Were I to narrate most accurately the conversation that followed, the -repartees that flashed from the lips of some, and the anger that burned -blue in the faces of others, I should only amuse the reader, or what is -more likely, weary him. - -I will simply mention that, after a few hours' sojourn, Mr. Worth took -his departure, not without first having a long conversation, in a -private part of the garden, with young master. Miss Bradly retired to -the young ladies' room (for they would not allow her to leave the -house), under pretext of headache. Often, as I passed in and out to ask -her if she needed anything, I found her weeping bitterly. Late in the -evening, about eight o'clock, Mr. Peterkin returned; throwing the reins -of his horse to Nace, he exclaimed: - -"Well, I've made a good bargain of it; I've sold Lindy to a trader for -one thousand dollars--that is, if she answers the description which I -gave of her. He is comin' in the mornin' to look at her; and, with a -little riggin' up, I think she'll 'pear a rale good-lookin' wench." - -When I went into the house to prepare some supper for Mr. Peterkin (the -family tea had been despatched two hours before), he was in an excellent -humor, well pleased, no doubt, with his good trade. - -"Now, Ann, be brisk and smart, or you might find yourself in the -trader's hands afore long. Likely yellow gals like you sells mighty -well; and if you doesn't behave well you is a goner." - -"Down the river" was not terrible to me, nor did I dread being "sold;" -yet one thing I did fear, and that was separation from young master. In -the last few days he had become to me everything I could respect; nay, I -loved him. Not that it was in his power to do me any signal act of good. -He could not soften the severity of his father and sisters toward me; -yet one thing he could and did do, he spoke an occasional kind, hopeful -word to me. Those whose hearts are fed upon kindness and love, can -little understand how dear to the lonely, destitute soul, is one word of -friendliness. We, to whom the husks are flung with an unfeeling tone, -appreciate as manna from heaven the word of gentleness; and now I -thought if I were to leave young master _my soul would die_. Had not his -blessed smile elevated and inspired my sinking spirit, and his sweet -tone softened my over-taxed heart? Oh, blessed one! even now I think of -thee, and with a full heart thank God that such beings have lived! - -I watched master dispatch his supper in a most summary manner. At length -he settled himself back in his chair, and, taking his tooth-pick from -his waistcoat pocket, began picking his teeth. - -"Wal, Ann," he said, as he swung himself back in his chair, "how's ole -Poll?" - -"She is still asleep." - -"Yes, I said she was possuming; but by to-morrow, if she ain't up outen -that ar' bunk of hers, I'll know the reason; and I'll sell her to the -trader that's comin' for Lindy." - -"I wish you would sell her, father, and buy a new cook; she prepares -everything in such an old-fashioned manner--can't make a single French -dish," said Miss Jane. - -"I don't care a cuss 'bout yer French dishes, or yer fashionable cooks; -I's gwine to sell her, becase the craps didn't yield me much this year, -and I wants money, so I must make it by sellin' off niggers." - -"You must not sell Aunt Polly, and you shall not," said young master, -with a fearful emphasis. - -"What do you mean, lad?" cried the infuriated father, and he sprang from -his seat, and was in the very act of rushing upon the offender; but -suddenly he quailed before the fixed, determined gaze of that eye. He -looked again, then cowered, reeled, and staggered like a drunken man, -and, falling back in his chair, he covered his face with his hands, and -uttered a fearful groan. The ladies were frightened; they had never seen -their father thus fearfully excited. They dared not speak one word. The -finger of an awful silence seemed laid upon each and every one present. -At length young master, with a slow step, approached his father, and, -taking the large hand, which swung listlessly, within his own, said, -"Fath--;" but before he had finished the syllable, Mr. Peterkin sprang -up, exclaiming, - -"Off, I say! off! off! she sent you here; she told you to speak so to -me." Then gazing wildly at Johnny, he cried, "Those are her eyes, that -is her face. I say, away! away! leave me! you torment me with the sight -of that face! It's hers it's hers. Blood will have blood, and now you -comes to git mine!" and the strong man fell prostrate upon the floor, in -a paroxysm of agony. He foamed at the mouth, and rolled his great vacant -eyes around the room in a wildness fearful to behold. - -"Oh Lor'," said old Nace, who appeared in the doorway, "oh Lor', him's -got a fit." - -The ladies shrieked and screamed in a frightful manner. Young master was -almost preternaturally calm. He and Miss Bradly (after Nace and Jake had -placed master on the bed) rendered him every attention. Miss Bradly -chafed his temples with camphor, and moistened the lips and palms of -the hands with it. When he began to revive, he turned his face to the -wall and wept like a child. Then he fell off into a quiet sleep. - -Young master and Miss Bradly watched beside that restless sleeper long -and faithfully. And from that night there grew up between them a fervent -friendship, which endured to the last of their mortal days. - -Upon frequently going into Aunt Polly's cabin, I was surprised to find -her still sleeping. At length when my duties were all discharged in the -house, and I went to prepare for the night's rest, I thought I would -arouse her from her torpor and administer a little nourishment that -might benefit her. - -To my surprise her arm felt rigid, and oh, so cold! What if she is dead! -thought I; and a cold thrill passed over my frame. The big drops burst -from my brow and stood in chilly dew upon my temples. Oh God! can it be -that she is dead! One look, one more touch, and the dreadful question -would be answered; yet, when I attempted to stretch forth my hand, it -was stiff and powerless. In a moment the very atmosphere seemed to grow -heavy; 'twas peopled with a strange, charnel gloom. My breath was thick -and broken, coming only at intervals and with choking gaspings. One more -desperate effort! I commanded myself, gathered all my courage, and, -seizing hold of the body with a power which was stronger than my own, I -turned it over--when, oh God of mercy, such a spectacle! the question -was answered with a fearful affirmation. There, rigid, still and -ghastly, she lay in death. The evident marks of a violent struggle were -stamped upon those features, which, despite their tough -hard-favoredness, and their gaunt gloom, were dear to me; for had she -not been my best of friends, nay proved her friendship by a martyrdom -which, if slower, was no less heroic than that which adorns the columns -of historical renown? Gently I closed those wide-staring, blank eyes, -and pressed tenderly together the distended jaws; and, taking from a box -a slipet of white muslin, bound up her cheeks. Slowly, and not without a -feeling of terror, I unwound the bandage from her brow, which concealed -the wound made by the leeches; this I replaced with my only -handkerchief. I then endeavored to straighten the contracted limbs, for -she had died lying upon her side, with her body drawn nearly double. I -found this a rather difficult task; yet was it a melancholy pleasure, a -duty that I performed irresolutely but with tenderness. - -After all was done, and before getting the water to wash the body (for I -wished to enrobe her decently for the burial), I gave way to the luxury -of expressed grief, and, sinking down upon my knees beside that lifeless -form, thanked God for having taken her from this scene of trouble and -trial. "You are gone, my poor old friend; but that hereafter of which we -all entertain so much dread, cannot be to you so bad as this wretched -present; and though I am lonely without you, I rejoice that you have -left this land of bondage. And I believe that at this moment your tried -soul is free and happy!" - -So saying, I stepped without the door of the cabin, and, looking up to -the clear, cold moon and the way-off stars, I smiled, even in my -bitterness, for I imagined I could see her emancipated soul soaring away -on its new-made wings, to the land forever flowing with milk and honey. -She had often in her earth-pilgrimage, as many tried martyrs had done -before her, fainted by the wayside; but then was she not sorely tempted, -and did not a life of captivity and seven-fold agony, atone for all her -short-comings? Besides, we are divinely informed that where little is -given, little is required. In view of this sacred assurance, let not the -sceptic reader think that my faith was stretched to an unwarranted -degree. Yes, I did and _do_ think that she was at that moment and is now -happy. If not, how am I to account for the strange feeling of peace that -settled over my mind and heart, when I thought of her! For a holy, -heavenly calm, like the dropping of a prophet's mantle, overspread my -heart; a cool sense of ease, refreshing as the night dew, and sustaining -as the high stars, seemed to gird me round! - -I did not heed the cold air, but walked out a few rods in the direction -of the out-house, where Lindy was confined. "Yonder," I soliloquized, -"perishing for a kind word, lies a poor outcast, wretched being. I will -go to her, bury all thoughts of the past, and speak one kind word of -encouragement." - -As I drew near to the "lock-up," the moon that had been sailing swift -and high through the heaven, passed beneath the screen of a dark cloud. -I paused in my steps and looked up to the sky. "Such," I thought, "is -the transit of a human soul across the vault of life; beneath clouds and -shadows the serene face is often hidden, and the spirit's mellow light -is often, by affliction, obscured from view." - -Just then a sob of anguish fell upon my ear. I knew it was Lindy, and -moved hastily forward; but, light as was my foot-fall, it aroused the -sentinel-dog, and, with a loud bark, he sprang toward me. "Down, Cuff! -down!" said I, addressing the dog, who, as soon as he recognized me, -crouched lovingly at my feet. Just then the moon glided with a queenly -air from behind the clouds. "So," I said, "passeth the soul, with the -same Diana-like sweep, from the heavy fold and curtain of human sorrow." -Another moan, deeper and more fearful than the first! I was close beside -the door of the "lock-up," and, cowering down, with my mouth close to -the crevice, I called Lindy. "Who's dar? who's dar? For de love of -heaven somebody come to me," said Lindy, in a half-frantic tone. - -"'Tis I, Lindy, don't you know my voice?" - -"Yes, it's Ann! Oh, please, Ann, help me outen here. I's seen such orful -sights and hearn sich dreful sounds, I'd be a slave all my born days -jist to git way frum here. Oh, Ann, I's seed a _speerit_," and then she -gave such a fearful shriek, that I felt my flesh grow cold and stony as -death. Yet I knew it was my duty to appear calm, and try to persuade her -that it was not true or real. - -"Oh, no, Lindy, you must not be frightened; only hope and trust in God, -and pray to Him. He will take you away from all this trouble. He loves -you. He cares for you, for 'twas He who made you, Your soul is precious -to Him. Oh, try to pray." - -"Oh, but, Ann, I doesn't know how to pray. I never seed God, and I is -afraid of Him. He might be like master." - -This was fearful ignorance, and how to begin to teach her the way to -believe was above my ability; yet I knew that every soul was precious to -God; so I made an endeavor to do all I could in the way of instruction. - -"Say, Our Father, who art in heaven," Lindy. - -"Our Father, who art in heaven," she repeated in a slow, nervous manner. - -"Hallowed be Thy name." Again she repeated, and so on we prayed, she -following accurately after me, though the heavy door separated us. Think -ye not, oh, gentle reader, that this prayer was heard above? Never did -words come more truly from my heart; and with a low moan, they rung -plaintively upon the still, moonlit air! I could tell, from the fervent -tone in which Lindy followed, that her whole soul was engaged. When the -final amen had been said, she asked, "Ann, what's to become of me?" - -I evaded her by saying, "how can I know what master will do?" - -"Yes, but haven't you heard? Oh, don't fool me, Ann, but tell me all." - -For a moment I hesitated, then said: "Yes, Lindy, I'll deal fairly with -you. I have heard that master intends selling you to-morrow to a trader, -whom he went to see to-day; and, if the trader is satisfied with you -to-morrow, the bargain will be closed." - -"Oh, Lord! oh, Lord!" she groaned forth, "oh, is I gwine down de ribber? -Oh, Lord, kill me right now; but don't send me to dat dreful place, down -de ribber, down de ribber!" - -"Oh, trust in the Lord, and He will protect you. Down the river can't be -much worse than here, maybe not so bad. For my part, Lindy, I would -rather be sold and run the risk of getting a good master, than remain -here where we are treated worse than dogs." - -"Oh, dar isn't no sort ob hope ob my gitten any better home den dis -here one; den I knows you all, and way off dar 'mong strange black -folks, oh, no, I never can go; de Lord hab marcy on me." - -This begging of the poor negroes to the Lord to have mercy on them, -though frequent, has no particular significance. It is more a plaint of -agony than a cry for actual mercy; and, in Lindy's case, it most -assuredly only expressed her grief, for she had no ripe faith in the -power and willingness of Our Father to send mercy to her. Religion she -believed consisted in going to church every Sunday twice; consequently -it was a luxury, which, like all luxuries, must be monopolized by the -whites. From the very depths of my heart I prayed that the light of -Divine grace might shine in upon her darkened intellect. Soul of Faith, -verily art thou soul of beauty! And though, as a special gift, faith is -not withheld from the lowliest, the most ignorant, yet does its -possession give to the poorest and most degraded Ethiopian a divine -consciousness, an inspiration, that as to what is grandest in the soul -exalts him above the noblest of poets. - -Whilst talking to Lindy, I was surprised to hear the muffled sound of an -approaching footstep. Noiselessly I was trying to creep away, when young -master said in a low voice: - -"Is this you, Ann? Wait a moment. Have you spoken to Lindy? Have you -told her--" - -He did not finish the sentence, and I answered, - -"Yes, I have told her that she is to be sold, and to a trader." - -"Is she willing?" - -"No, sir, she has a great terror of down the river." - -"That is the way with them all, yet her condition, so far as treatment -is concerned, may be bettered, certainly it cannot be made worse." - -"Will you speak to her, young Master, and reconcile her to her -situation?" - -"Yes, I will do all I can." - -"And now I will go and stay with the corpse of dear Aunt Polly;" here I -found it impossible to restrain my tears, and, convulsed with emotion, -I seated myself upon the ground with my back against the door of the -lock-up. - -"Dead? dead? Aunt Polly dead?" he asked in a bewildered tone. - -"Yes, young Master, I found her dead, and with every appearance of -having had a severe struggle." - -I then told him about the leeching process, how the doctor had acted, -&c. - -"Murdered! She was most cruelly murdered!" he murmured to himself. - -In the excitement of conversation he had elevated his tone a good deal, -and the fearful news reached the ears of Lindy, and she shrieked out, - -"Is Aunt Polly dead? Oh, tell me, for I thinks I sees her sperit now." - -Then such entreaties as she made to get out were agonizing to hear. - -"Oh, if you can't let me out, don't leave me! Oh, don't leave me, Ann! I -is so orful skeered. I do see such terrible sights, and it 'pears like -when you is here talking, dem orful things don't come arter me." - -"You go, Ann, and watch with Aunt Polly's body; I will stay here with -this poor creature." - -"What, you, young master; no, no, you shall not, it will kill you. Your -cough will increase, and it might prove fatal. No, I will stay here." - -"But who will watch with Aunt Polly?" - -"I will awaken Amy, and make her keep guard." - -"No, she is too young, lacks nerve, will be frightened; besides, you -must not be found here in the morning. You would be severely punished -for it. Go now, good Ann, and leave me here." - -"No, young master, I cannot leave you to what I am sure will be certain -death." - -"That would be no misfortune to me." - -And I shall never forget the calm and half-glorified expression of his -face, as he pronounced these words. - -"Go, Ann," he continued, "leave me to watch and pray beside this forlorn -creature, and, if the Angel of Death spreads his wings on this midnight -blast, I think I should welcome him; for life, with its broken promises -and its cold humanity, sickens me--oh so much." - -And his beautiful head fell languidly on his breast; and again I -listened to that low, husky cough. To-night it had an unusual sound, -and, forgetful of the humble relation in which I stood to him, I grasped -his arm firmly but lovingly, saying, - -"Hark to that cough! Now you _must_ go in." - -"No, I cannot. I know best; besides, since nothing less gentle will do, -I needs must use authority, and command you to go." - -"I would that you did not exercise your authority against yourself." - -But he waved me off. Reluctantly I obeyed him. Again I entered the cabin -and roused Amy, who slept on a pallet or heap of straw at the foot of -the bed, where the still, unbreathing form of my old friend lay. It was -difficult to awake her, for she was always wearied at night, and slept -with that deep soundness peculiar to healthful childhood; but, after -various shakes, I contrived to make her open her eyes and speak to me. - -"Come Amy," I said, "rouse, I want you to help me." - -"In what way and what fur you wake me up?" she said as she sat upright -on the straw, and began rubbing her eyes. - -"Never mind, but you get up and I will tell you." - -When she was fairly awake, she assisted me in lifting in a large tub of -water. - -"Oh, is Aunt Polly any sicker?" she inquired. - -"Amy, she is dead." - -"Oh, Lord, den I ain't gwine to hope you, bekase I's afeared ob a dead -body." - -"It can't harm you." - -"Yes it ken; anyhow, I is feared ob it, and I ain't gwine to hope you." - -"Well, you need not touch her, only sit up with me whilst I wash her and -dress her nicely." - -"Well, I'll do dat much." - -Accordingly, she crouched down in the corner and concealed her face with -her hands, whilst I proceeded to wash the body thoroughly and dress it -out in an old faded calico, which, in life, had constituted her finest -robe. Bare and undecked, but clean, appeared that tabernacle of flesh, -which had once enshrined a tried but immortal spirit. When all was -finished, I seated myself near the partly-opened door, and waited for -the coming of day. Ah, when was the morn of glad freedom to break for -me? - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - -SYMPATHY CASTETH OUT FEAR--CONSEQUENCE OF THE NIGHT'S WATCH--TROUBLED -REFLECTIONS. - - -Morn did break, bright and clear, over the face of the sleeping earth! -It was a still and blessed hour. Man, hushed from his rushing activity, -lay reposeful in the arms of "Death's counterfeit--sleep." All animated -nature was quiet and calm, till, suddenly, a gush of melody broke from -the clear throats of the wildwood birds and made the air vocal. Another -day was dawning; another day born to witness sins and cruelties the most -direful. Do we not often wonder why the sky can smile so blue and -lovingly, when such outrages are enacted beneath it? But I must not -anticipate. - -As soon as the sun had fairly risen I knocked at the house-door, which -was opened by Miss Bradly, whose languid face and crumpled dress, proved -that she had taken no rest during the night. Bidding her a polite -good-morning, I inquired if the ladies had risen? She answered that they -were still asleep, and had rested well during the night. I next inquired -for master's health. - -"Oh," said she, "I think he is well, quite well again. He slept soundly. -I think he only suffered from a violent and sudden mental excitement. A -good night's rest, and a sedative that I administered, have restored -him; but _to-day_, oh, _to-day_, how I do dread to-day." - -To the latter part of this speech I made no answer; for, of late, I had -learned to distrust her. Even if her belief was right, I could not -recognize her as one heroic enough to promulgate it from the -house-tops. I saw in her only a weak, servile soul, drawn down from the -lofty purpose of philanthropy, seduced by the charm of "vile lucre." -Therefore I observed a rigid silence. Feeling a little embarrassed, I -began playing with the strings of my apron, for I was fearful that the -expression of my face might betray what was working in my mind. - -"What is the matter, Ann?" - -This recalled the tragedy that had occurred in the cabin, and I said, in -a faltering tone, - -"Death has been among us. Poor Aunt Polly is gone." - -"Is it possible? When did she die? Poor old creature!" - -"She died some time before midnight. When I left the house I was -surprised to find her still sleeping, so I thought perhaps she was too -sluggish, and, upon attempting to arouse her, I discovered that she was -dead!" - -"Why did you not come and inform me? I would have assisted you in the -last sad offices." - -"Oh, I did not like to disturb you. I did everything very well myself." - -"Johnny and I sat up all night; that is, I suppose he was up, though he -left the room a little after midnight, and has not since returned. I -should not wonder if he has been walking the better part of the night. -He so loves solitude and the night-time--but then," she added, musingly -"he has a bad cough, and it may be dangerous. The night was chilly, the -atmosphere heavy. What if this imprudence should rapidly develop a -fearful disease?" She seemed much concerned. - -"I will go," said she, "and search for him;" but ere these words had -fairly died upon her lips, we were startled by a cough, and, looking up, -we beheld the subject of our conversation within a few steps of us. Oh, -how wretchedly he was changed! It appeared as if the wreck of years had -been accomplished in the brief space of a night. Haggard and pale, with -his eyes roving listlessly, dark purple lines of unusual depth -surrounding them, and with his bright, gold hair, heavy with the dew, -and hanging neglected around his noble head, even his clear, pearl-like -complexion appeared dark and discolored. - -"Where have you been, Johnny?" asked Miss Bradly. - -"To commune with the lonely and comfort the bound; at the door of the -'lock-up,' our miniature Bastile, I have spent the night." Here -commenced a paroxysm of coughing, so violent that he was obliged to seat -himself upon the door-sill. - -"Oh, Johnny," exclaimed the terrified lady. - -But as he attempted to check her fears, another paroxysm, still more -frightful, took place, and this time the blood gushed copiously from his -mouth. Miss Bradly threw her arms tenderly around him, and, after a -succession of rapid gushes of blood, his head fell languidly on her -shoulder, like a pale, broken lily! - -I instantly ran to call up the ladies, when master approached from his -chamber; seeing young master lying so pale, cold, and insensible in the -arms of Miss Bradly, he concluded he was dead, and, crying out in a -frantic tone, he asked, - -"In h--l's name, what has happened to my boy?" - -"He has had a violent hemorrhage," replied Miss Bradly, with an -ill-disguised composure. - -The sight of the blood, which lay in puddles and clots over the steps, -increased the terror of the father, and, frantically seizing his boy in -his arms, he covered the still, pale face with kisses. - -"Oh, my boy! my boy! how much you are like _her_! This is her mouth, -eyes, and nose, and now you 'pears jist like she did when I seed her -last. These limbs are stiff and frozen. It can't be death; no, it can't -be. I haven't killed you, too--say, Miss Bradly, is he dead?" - -"No, sir, only exhausted from the violence of the paroxysm, and the -copious hemorrhage, but he requires immediate medical treatment; send, -promptly, for Dr. Mandy." - -Master turned to me, saying, - -"Gal, go order Jake to mount the swiftest horse, and ride for life and -death to Dr. Mandy; tell him to come instantly, my son is dying." - -I obeyed, and, with all possible promptitude, the message was -dispatched. Oh, how different when _his_ son was ill. Then you could see -that human life was valuable; had it been a negro, he would have waited -until after breakfast before sending for a doctor. - -Mr. Peterkin bore his son into the house, placed him on the bed, and, -seating himself beside him, watched with a tenderness that I did not -think belonged to his harsh nature. - -In a very short time Jake returned with Dr. Mandy, who, after feeling -young master's pulse, sounding his chest, and applying the stethescope, -said that he feared it was an incipient form of lung-fever. We had much -cause for apprehension. There was a perplexed expression upon the face -of the doctor, a tremulousness in his motions, which indicated that he -was in great fear and doubt as to the case. He left some powders, to be -administered every hour, and, after various and repeated injunctions to -Miss Bradly, who volunteered to nurse the patient, he left the house. - -After taking the first powder, young master lay in a deep, unbroken -sleep. As I stood by his bedside I saw how altered he was. The cheek, -which, when he was walking, had seemed round and full, was now shrunk -and hollow, and a fiery spot burned there like a living coal; and the -dark, purple ring that encircled the eyes, and the sharp contraction of -the thin nostril, were to me convincing omens of the grave. Then, too, -the anxious, care-written face of Miss Bradly tended to deepen my -apprehension. How my friends were falling around me! Now, just when I -was beginning to live, came the fell destroyer of my happiness. -Happiness? Oh, does it not seem a mockery for the slave to employ that -word? As if he had anything to do with it! The slave, who owns nothing, -ay, literally nothing. His wife and children are all his master's. His -very wearing apparel becomes another's. He has no right to use it, save -as he is advised by his owner. Go, my kind reader, to the hotels of the -South and South-west, look at the worn and dejected countenances of the -slaves, and tell me if you do not read misery there. Look in at the -saloons of the restaurants, coffee-houses, &c., at late hours of the -night; there you will see them, tired, worn and weary, with their aching -heads bandaged up, sighing for a few moments' sleep. There the proud, -luxurious, idle whites sip their sherbets, drink wine, and crack their -everlasting jokes, but there must stand your obsequious slave, with a -smile on his face, waiter in hand, ready to attend to "Master's -slightest wish." No matter if his tooth is aching, or his child dying, -he must smile, or be flogged for gruffness. This "chattel personal," -though he bear the erect form of a man, has no right to any privileges -or emotions. Oh, nation of the free, how long shall this be? Poor, -suffering Africa, country of my sires, how much longer upon thy bleeding -shoulders must the cross be pressed! Is there no tomb where, for a short -space, thou shalt lie, and then, bursting the bonds of night and death, -spring up free, redeemed and regenerate? - -"Oh, will he die?" I murmured, "he who reconciles me to my bondage, who -is my only friend? Another affliction I cannot bear; I've been so tried -in the furnace, that I have not strength to meet another." - -Those thoughts passed through my brain as I stood beside young master; -but the entrance of Mr. Peterkin diverted them, and, stepping up to him, -I said, "Master, Aunt Polly is dead." - -"You lie!" he thundered out. - -"No, Mr. Peterkin, the old woman is really dead," said Miss Bradly, in a -kind but mournful tone. - -"Who killed her?" again he thundered. - -Ay, who did kill her? Could I not have answered, "Thou art the man"? But -I did not. Silently I stood before him, never daring to trust myself -with a word. - -"What time did she kick the bucket?" asked Mr. Peterkin, in one of the -favorite Kentucky vulgarisms, whereby the most solemn and awful debt of -nature is ridiculed by the unthinking. - -I told him how I had found her, what I had done, &c., all of which is -known to the reader. - -"I believe h--l is loose among the niggers. Now, here's Poll had to die -bekase she couldn't cut any other caper. I might have made a sight o' -money by her sale; and she, old fool, had to cut me outen it. Wal, I'll -only have to sell some of the others, fur I's bound to make up a sartin -sum of money to pay to some of my creditors in L----." - -This speech was addressed to Miss Bradly, upon whom it made not half the -impression that it did upon me. How I hoped I should be one, for if -young master, as I began to believe, should die soon, the place would -become to me more horrible than a tiger's den. Any change was desirable. - -When the young ladies rose from their beds I went in to attend on them, -and communicated the news of young master's illness and Aunt Polly's -death. For their brother they expressed much concern, but the faithful -old domestic, who had served them so long, was of no more consequence -than a dog. Miss Jane did seem provoked to think that she "had died on -their hands," as she expressed it. "If pa had sold her months ago, we -might have had the money, or something valuable, but now we must go to -the expense of furnishing her with a coffin." - -"Coffin! hoity-toity! Father's not going to give her a coffin, an old -store-box is good enough to put her old carcass in." And thus they spoke -of one of God's dead. - -Usually persons respect those upon whom death has set his ghastly -signet; but these barbarians (for such I think they must have been) -spoke with an irreverence of one whose body lay still and cold, only few -steps from them. To some people no thing or person is sacred. - -After breakfast I waited in great anxiety to hear how and when master -intended to have Aunt Polly buried. - -I had gone into the little desolate cabin, which was now consecrated by -the presence of the dead. There _she_ lay, cold and ashen; and the long -white strip that I had thrown over her was too thin to conceal the face. -It was an old muslin curtain that I had found in looking over the boxes -of the deceased, and out of respect had flung it over the remains. So -rigid and hard-set seemed her features in that last, deep sleep, so -tightly locked were those bony fingers, so mournful looked the -straightened, stiffened form, so devoid of speculation the half-closed -eyes, that I turned away with a shudder, saying inwardly: - -"Oh, death, thou art revolting!" Yet when I bethought me of the peace -passing human understanding into which she had gone, the safe bourne -that she had attained, "where the wicked cease from troubling and the -weary are at rest;" when I thought of this, death lost its horror, and -the grave its gloom. Oh, Eternity, problem that the living can never -solve. Oh, death, full of victory to the Christian! wast thou not, to my -old and weary friend, a messenger of sweet peace; and was not the tomb a -gateway to new and undreamed-of happiness? Yes, so will I believe; for -so believing am I made joyful. - -Relieved thus by faith from the burden of grief, I moved gently about -the room, trying to bring something like order to its ragged appearance; -for Jake, who had been dispatched for Doctor Mandy to come and see young -master, had met on the way a colored preacher, to whom he announced Aunt -Polly's death, and who had promised to come and preach a funeral sermon, -and attend the burial. This was to the other negroes a great treat; they -regarded a funeral as quite a gala occasion, inasmuch as we had never -had such a thing upon the farm. I had my own doubts, though I did not -express them, whether master would permit it. - -Young master still slept, from the strong effects of the sleeping potion -which had been administered to him. Miss Bradly, overcome by the night's -watching, dozed in a large chair beside the bed, and an open Bible, in -which she had been reading, lay upon her lap. The blinds were closed, -but the dim light of a small fire that blazed on the hearth gave some -appearance of life to the room. Every one who passed in and out, stepped -on tip-toe, as if fearful of arousing the sleeper. - -Oh, the comfort of a white skin! No darkened room, no comfortable air, -marked the place where she my friend had died. No hushed dread nor -whispered voice paid respect to the cabin-room where lay her dead body; -but, thanks to God, in the morning of the resurrection we shall come -forth alike, regardless of the distinctions of color or race, each one -to render a faithful account of the deeds done in the body. - -Mr. Peterkin came to the kitchen-door, and called Nace, saying: - -"Where is that old store-box that the goods and domestics for the house -was fetched home in, from L----, last fall?" - -"It's in de smoke-house, Masser." - -"Wal, go git it, and bury ole Poll in it." - -"It's right dirty and greasy, Master," I ventured to say. - -"Who keres if 'tis? What right has you to speak, slut?" and he gave me a -violent kick in the side with his rough brogan. - -"Take that for yer imperdence. Who tole you to put yer mouth in?" - -Nace and Dan soon produced the box, which had no top, and was dirty and -greasy, as it well might be from its year's lodgment in the meat-house. - -"Now, go dig a hole and put Poll in it." - -As master was turning away, he was met by a neatly-dressed black man, -who wore a white muslin cravat and white cotton gloves, and carried two -books in his hand. He had an humble, reverent expression, and I readily -recognized him as the free colored preacher of the neighborhood--a good, -religious man, God-fearing and God-serving. No one knew or could say -aught against him. How I did long to speak to him; to sit at his feet as -a disciple, and learn from him heavenly truths. - -As master turned round, the preacher, with a polite air, took off his -hat, saying: - -"Your servant, Master." - -"What do you want, nigger?" - -"Why, Master, I heard that one of your servants was dead, and I come to -ask your leave to convene the friends in a short prayer-meeting, if you -will please let us." - -"No, I be d----d if you shall, you rascally free nigger; if you don't -git yourself off my place, I'll git my cowhide to you. I wants none of -yer tom-foolery here." - -"I beg Master's pardon, but I meant no harm. I generally go to see the -sick, and hold prayer over the dead." - -"You doesn't do it here; and now take your dirty black hide away, or it -will be the worse for you." - -Without saying one word, the mortified preacher, who had meant well, -turned away. I trust he did as the apostles of old were bidden by their -Divine Master to do, "shook the dust from his feet against that house." -Oh, coarse and sense-bound man, you refused entertainment to an "angel, -unawares." - -"Well, I sent that prayin' rascal a flyin' quick enough;" and with this -self-gratulatory remark, he entered the house. - -Nace and Jake carried the box into the cabin, preceded by me. - -Most reverently I laid away the muslin from the face and form; and -lifting the head, while Nace assisted at the feet, we attempted to place -the body in the box, but found it impossible, as the box was much too -short. Upon Nace's representing this difficulty to Mr. Peterkin, he only -replied: - -"Wal, bury her on a board, without any more foolin' 'bout it." - -This harsh mandate was obeyed to the letter. With great expedition, Nace -and Jake dug a hole in the earth, and laid a few planks at the bottom, -upon which I threw an old quilt, and on that hard bed they laid her. -Good and faithful servant, even in death thou wast not allowed a bed! -Over the form I spread a covering, and the men laid a few planks, -box-fashion, over that, and then began roughly throwing on the fresh -earth. "Dust to dust," I murmured, and, with a secret prayer, turned -from her unmarked resting-place. Mr. Peterkin expressly ordered that it -should not have a grave shape, and so it was patted and smoothed down, -until, save for the moisture and fresh color of the earth, you could not -have known that the ground had ever been broken. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -THE TRADER--A TERRIBLE FRIGHT--POWER OF PRAYER--GRIEF OF THE HELPLESS. - - -About noon a gaudily-dressed and rough-looking man rode up to the gate, -and alighted from a fine bay horse. With that free and easy sort of way -so peculiar to a _certain class_ of mankind, he walked up the avenue to -the front door. - -"Gal," he said, addressing me, "whar's yer master?" - -"In the house. Will you walk in?" - -"No, it is skersely worth while; jist tell him that me, Bill Tompkins, -wants to see him; but stay," he added, as I was turning to seek my -master, "is you the gal he sold to me yesterday?" - -"I don't know, sir." - -"Wal, you is devilish likely. Put out yer foot. Wal, it is nice enuff to -belong to a white 'ooman. You is a bright-colored mulatto. I _must_ have -you." - -"Heavens! I hope not," was my half-uttered expression, as I turned away, -for I had caught the meaning of that lascivious eye, and shrank from the -threatened danger. Though I had been cruelly treated, yet had I been -allowed to retain my person inviolate; and I would rather, a -thousand-fold, have endured the brutality of Mr. Peterkin, than those -loathsome looks which I felt betokened ruin. - -"Master, a man, calling himself Bill Tompkins, wishes to see you," said -I, as I entered his private apartment. - -"Can't yer say Mr. Tompkins?" - -"He told me to tell you Bill Tompkins; I only repeat his words." - -"Whar is he?" - -"At the front door." - -"Didn't yer ax him in, hussy?" - -"Yes, sir, but he refused, saying it was not worth while." - -"Oh," thought I, when left alone, "am I sold to that monster? Am I to -become so utterly degraded? No, no; rather than yield my purity I will -give up my life, and trust to God to pardon the suicide." - -In this state of mind I wandered up and down the yard, into the kitchen, -into the cabin, into the room where young master lay sleeping, into the -presence of the young ladies, and out again into the air; yet my -curious, feverish restlessness, could not be allayed. A trader was in -the house--a bold, obscene man, and into his possession I might fall! -Oh, happy indeed must be those who feel that he or they have the -exclusive custody of their own persons; but the poor negro has nothing, -not even--save in rare cases--the liberty of choosing a home. - -I had not dared, since daylight, to go near the "lock-up," for a fearful -punishment would have been due the one whom Mr. Peterkin found loitering -there. - -I was so tortured by apprehension, that my eyes burned and my head -ached. I had heard master say that the unlooked-for death of Aunt Polly -would force him to sell some of the other slaves, in order to realize a -certain sum of money, and Tompkins had expressed a desire for me. It was -likely that he would offer a good price; then should I be lost. Oh, -heavenly Virtue! do not desert me! Let me bear up under the fiercest -trials! - -I had wandered about, in this half-crazed manner, never daring to -venture within "ear-shot" of master and Mr. Tompkins, fearing that the -latter might, upon a second sight of me, have the fire of his wicked -passions aroused, and then my fate would be sealed. - -I determined to hide in the cabin, to pray there, in the room that had -been hallowed by the presence of God's angel of Death; but there, -cowering on the old brick hearth, like a hen with her brood of chickens, -I found, to my surprise, Amy, with little Ben in her arms, and the two -girls crouched close to her side, evidently feeling that her presence -was sufficient to protect them. - -"Lor', Ann," said Amy, her wide eyes stretched to their utmost tension, -"thar is a trader talkin' wid Masser; I won'er whose gwine to be sole. I -hope tain't us." - -I didn't dare reply to her. I feared for myself, and I feared for her. - -Kneeling down in the corner of the cabin, I besought mercy of the -All-merciful; but somehow, my prayers fell back cold upon my heart. God -seemed a great way off, and I could not realize the presence of angels. -"Oh," I cried, "for the uplifting faith that hath so often blest me! oh -for the hopefulness, the trustingness of times past! Why, why is the -gate of heaven shut against me? Why am I thus self-bound? Oh, for a -wider, broader and more liberal view!" But I could not pray. Great God! -had that last and only soul-stay been taken from me? With a black -hopelessness gathering at my heart, I arose from my knees, and looked -round upon those desolate orphans, shrinking terror-stricken, hiding -away from the merciless pursuit of a giant; and then I bethought me of -my own desolation, and I almost arraigned the justice of Heaven. Most -wise Father! pardon me! Thou, who wast tempted by Satan, and to whom the -cup of mortality was bitter, pity me and forgive! - -Turning away from the presence of those pleading children I entered the -kitchen, and there were Jake and Dan, terror written on their strong, -hard faces; for, no matter how hard is the negro's present master, he -always regards a change of owners as entailing new dangers; and no -wonder that, from education and experience, he is thus suspicious, for -so many troubles have come and do come upon him, that he cannot imagine -a change whereby he is to be benefited. - -"Has you hearn anything, Ann?" asked Dan, with his great flabby lips -hanging loosely open, and his eyes considerably distended. - -"Nothing." - -"Who's gwine to be sole?" asked Jake. - -"I don't know?" - -"Hope tisn't me." - -"And hope tisn't me," burst from the lips of both of them, and to this -my heart gave a fervent though silent echo. - -"He is de one dat's bought Lindy," said old Nace, who now entered, "and -Masser's gwine to sell some de rest ob yer." - -"Why do yer say de rest ob yer? Why mayn't it be you?" asked Dan. - -"Bekase he ain't gwine to sell me, ha! ha! I sarved him too long fur -dat." - -Ginsy and Sally came rushing in, frightened, like all the rest, -exclaiming, - -"Oh, we's in danger; a nigger-trader is talkin' wid master." - -We had no time for prolonged speculation, for the voice of Mr. Peterkin -was heard in the entry, and, throwing open the door, he entered, -followed by Tompkins. - -"Here's the gang, and a devilish good-lookin' set they is." - -"Yes, but let me fust see the one I have bought." - -"Here, Nace," said master, "take this key, and tell Lindy to dress -herself and come here." The last part of this sentence was said in an -under-tone. - -In terror I fled from the kitchen. Scarcely knowing what I did, I rushed -into the young ladies' room, into which Nace had conducted Lindy, upon -whom they were placing some of their old finery. A half-worn calico -dress, gingham apron and white collar, completed the costume. I never -shall forget the expression of Lindy's face, as she looked vacantly -around her, hunting for sympathy, yet finding none, from the cold, -haughty faces that gazed upon her. - -"Now go," said Miss Jane, "and try to behave yourself in your new home." - -"Good-bye, Miss Jane," said the humbled, weeping negro. - -"Good-bye," was coldly answered; but no hand was extended to her. - -"Good-bye, Miss Tildy." - -Miss Tildy, who was standing at the glass arranging her hair, never -turned round to look upon the poor wretch, but carelessly said, - -"Good-bye." - -She looked toward me; her lip was quivering and tears were rolling down -her cheeks. I turned my head away, and she walked off with the farewell -unspoken. - -Quickly I heard Jake calling for me. Then I knew that my worst fears -were on the point of realization. With a timid, hesitating step, I -walked to the kitchen. There, ranged in single file, stood the servants, -with anxious faces, where a variety of contending feelings were written. -I nerved myself for what I knew was to follow, and stepping firmly up, -joined the phalanx. - -"That's the one," said Tompkins, as he eyed me with that _same_ look. -There he stood, twirling a heavy bunch of seals which depended from a -large, curiously-wrought chain. He looked more like a fiend than a -_man_. - -"This here one is your'n," said Mr. Peterkin, pointing to Lindy; "and, -gal, that gentleman is yer master." - -Lindy dropped a courtesy to him, and tried to wipe away her tears; for -experience had taught her that the only safe course was to stifle -emotions. - -"Here, gal, open yer mouth," Tompkins said to Lindy. She obeyed. - -"Now let me feel yer arms." - -He then examined her feet, ankles, legs, passed his hands over various -parts of her body, made her walk and move her limbs in different ways, -and then, seemingly satisfied with the bargain, said, - -"Wal, that trade is closed." - -Looking toward me, his dissolute eyes began to glare furiously. Again my -soul quailed; but I tried to govern myself, and threw upon him a glance -as cold as ice itself. - -"What will you take for this yallow gal?" he said, as he laid his hand -upon my shoulder. I shrank beneath his touch; yet resistance would only -have made the case worse, and I was compelled to submit. - -"I ain't much anxious to sell her; she is my darter Jane's waitin' -'ooman, and, you see, my darters are putty much stuck up. They thinks -they must have a waitin'-maid; but, if you offer a far price, maybe we -will close in." - -"Wal, as she is a fancy article, I'll jist say take twelve hundred -dollars, and that's more an' she's actilly worth; but I wants her fur my -_own use_; a sorter private gal like, you knows," and he gave a -lascivious blink, which Mr. Peterkin seemed to understand. I felt a deep -crimson suffuse my face. Oh, God! this was the heaviest of all -afflictions. _Sold!_ and for _such a purpose_! - -"I reckon the bargain is closed, then," said Mr. Peterkin. - -I felt despair coiling around my heart. Yet I knew that to make an -appeal to their humanity would be worse than idle. - -"Who, which of them have you sold, father?" asked Miss Jane, who entered -the kitchen, doubtless for the humane object of witnessing the distress -of the poor creatures. - -"Wal, Lindy's sold, and we are 'bout closing the bargain for Ann." - -"Why, Ann belongs to me." - -"Yes, but Tompkins offers twelve hundred dollars; and six hundred of it -you shill have to git new furniture." - -"She shan't go for six thousand. I want an accomplished maid when I go -up to the city, and she just suits me. Remember I have your deed of -gift." - -This relieved me greatly, for I understood her determination; and, -though I knew all sorts of severity would be exercised over me in my -present home, I felt assured that my honor would remain unstained. - -The trader tried to persuade and coax Miss Jane; but she remained -impervious to all of his importunities. - -"Wal, then," he said, after finding she would yield to no argument, -"haven't you none others you can let me have? I am 'bliged to fill up my -lot." - -"Wal, since my darter won't trade nohow, I must try and let you have -some of the others, though I don't care much 'bout sellin'." - -Mr. Peterkin was what was called tight on a trade; now, though he was -anxious enough to sell, he affected to be perfectly indifferent. This -was what would be termed an excellent ruse de guerre. - -"If you want children, I think we can supply you," said Miss Jane, and, -looking round, she asked, - -"Where are Amy and her sisters?" - -My heart sank within me, and, though I knew full well where they were, I -would not speak. - -Little Jim, the son of Ginsy, cried out, - -"Yes, I know where dey is. I seed em in dar." - -"Well, run you young rascal, and tell 'em to come here in a minnit," -said Mr. Peterkin; and away the boy scampered. In a few moments he -returned, followed by Amy, who was bearing Ben in her arms; and, holding -on to her skirts, were the two girls, terror limned on their dark, -shining faces. - -"Step up here to this gentleman, Amy, and say how would you like him for -a master?" said Mr. Peterkin. - -"Please, sir," replied Amy, "I don't kere whar I goes, so I takes these -chillen wid me." - -"I do not want Amy to be sold. Sell the children, father; but let us -keep Amy for a house-girl." Cold and unfeeling looked the lady as she -pronounced these words; but could you have seen the expression of Amy's -face! There is no human language, no painter's power, to show forth the -eye of frantic madness with which the girl glared around on all. -Clutching little Ben tightly, savagely to her bosom, she said no word, -and all seemed struck by the extreme wildness of her manner. - -"Let's look at that boy," said the trader, as he attempted to unfasten -Amy's arms but were locked round her treasure. - -"Dont'ee, dont'ee," shrieked the child. - -"Yes, but he will," said Mr. Peterkin, as, with a giant's force, he -broke asunder the slight arms, "you imperdent hussy, arn't you my -property? mine to do what I pleases with; and do you dar' to oppose me?" - -The girl said nothing; but the wild expression began to grow wilder, -fiercer, and more frightful. Little Ben, who was not accustomed to any -kind of notice, and felt at home nowhere except in Amy's arms, set up a -furious scream; but this the trader did not mind, and proceeded to -examine the limbs. - -"Something is the matter with this boy, he's got hip-disease; I knows -from his teeth he is older than you says." - -"Yes," said Amy seizing the idea, "he is weakly, he won't do no good -widout me; buy me too, please, Masser," and she crouched down at the -trader's feet, with her hands thrown up in an air of touching -supplication; but she had gone to the wrong tribunal for mercy. Who can -hope to find so fair a flower blooming amid the dreary brambles of a -negro-trader's breast? - -Tompkins took no other notice of her than to give her a contemptuous -kick, as much as to say, "thing, get out of my way." - -Turning to Mr. Peterkin he said, - -"This boy is not sound. I won't have him at any price," and he handed -him back to Amy, who exclaimed, in a thrilling tone, - -"Thank God! Bless you, Masser!" and she clasped the shy little Ben -warmly to her breast. - -Ben, whose intellect seemed clouded, looked wonderingly around on the -group; then, as if slowly realizing that he had escaped a mighty -trouble, clung closer to Amy. - -"Look here, nigger-wench, does you think to spile the sale of property -in that ar' way? Wal, I'll let you see I'll have things my way. No -nigger that ever was born, shall dictate to me." - -"No, father, I'd punish her well, even if I had to give Ben away; he is -no account here, merely an expense; and do sell those other two girls, -Amy's sisters." - -Mr. Peterkin then called up Lucy and Janey. I have mentioned these two -but rarely in the progress of this book, and for the reason that their -little lives were not much interwoven with the thread of mine. I saw -them often, but observed nothing particular about them. They were quiet, -taciturn, and what is usually called stupid children. They, like little -Ben, never ventured far away from Amy's protecting wing. Now, with a shy -step and furtive glance toward the trader, they obeyed their master's -summons. Poor Amy, with Ben clasped to her heart, strained her body -forward, and looked with stretched eyes and suspended breath toward -Tompkins, who was examining them. - -"Wal, I'll give you three hundred and fifty a-piece for 'em. Now, come, -that's the highest I'll give, Peterkin, and you mustn't try to git any -more out of me. You are a hard customer; but I am in a hurry, so I makes -my largest offer right away: I ain't got the time to waste. That's more -'an anybody else would give for 'em; but I sees that they has good -fingers fur to pick cotton, therefore I gives a big price." - -"It's a bargain, then. They is yourn;" and no doubt Mr. Peterkin thought -he had a good bargain, or he never would have chewed his tobacco in that -peculiarly self-satisfied manner. - -"Stand aside, then," said the trader, pushing his new purchases, as if -they were a bundle of dry goods. Running up to Amy, they began to hold -to her skirts and tremble violently, scarcely knowing what the words of -Tompkins implied. - -"Dey ain't sold?" asked Amy, turning first from one to the other; yet no -one answered. Mr. Peterkin and Tompkins were too busy with their trade, -and the negroes too much absorbed in their own fate, to attend to her. -For my part I had not strength to confirm her half-formed doubt. There -she stood, gathering them to her side with a motherly love. - -"What will you give fur this one?" and Mr. Peterkin pointed to Ginsy, -who stood with an humble countenance. When called up she made a low -courtesy, and went through the examination. Name and age were given; a -fair price was offered for her and her child, and was accepted. - -"Take this boy for a hundred dollars," said Mr. Peterkin, as he jerked -Ben from the arms of the half-petrified Amy. - -"Wal, he isn't much 'count; but, rather then seem contrary, I'll give -that fur him." - -And thus the trade was closed. Human beings were disposed of with as -little feeling as if they had been wild animals. - -"I'm sorry you won't, young Miss, let me have that maid of yourn; but -I'll be 'long next fall, and, fur a good price, I 'spect you'll be -willin' to trade. I wants that yallow wench," and he clicked his fingers -at me. - -"Say, Peterkin, ken you lend me a wagen to take 'em over to my pen?" - -"Oh, yes; and Nace can drive 'em over." - -Conscious of having got a good price, Mr. Peterkin was in a capital -humor. - -"Come, go with me, Peterkin, and we'll draw up the papers, and I'll pay -you your money." - -This was an agreeable sound to master. He ordered Nace to bring out the -wagon, and the order was hardly given before it was obeyed. Dismal -looked that red wagon, the same which years before had carried me away -from the insensible form of my broken-hearted mother. It appeared more -dark and dreary, to me, than a coffin or hearse. - -"Say, Peterkin, don't let 'em take many close; jist a change. It tires -'em too much if they have big bundles to carry." - -"They shan't be troubled with that." - -"Now, niggers, git your bundles and come 'long," said master. - -"Oh," cried Lindy, "can I git to see young master before I start? I -wants to thank him for de comfort he gib me last night," and she wiped -the tears from her eyes, and was starting toward the door of the house, -when Miss Jane intercepted her. - -"No, you runaway hussy, you shan't go in to disturb him, and have a -scene here." - -"Please, Miss Jane, I only wants to say good-bye." - -"You shan't do it." - -Mournfully, and with the tears streaming far down her cheeks, she turned -to me, saying, "Please, you, Ann, tell him good-bye fur me, and good-bye -to you. I hope you will forgive me for all de harm I has done to you." - -I took her hand, but could not speak a word. Silently I pressed it. - -"Whar's your close, gal?" asked Tompkins. - -"I'm gwine to git 'em." - -"Well, be in a hurry 'bout it." - -She went off to gather up a few articles, scarcely sufficient to cover -her; for we were barely allowed a change of clothing, and that not very -decent. - -Ginsy, leading her child with one hand, while she held in the other a -small bundle, walked up to Miss Jane, and dropping a low courtesy, said, - -"Farewell, Miss Jane; can I see Miss Tildy and young master?" - -"No, John is sick, and Tildy can't be troubled just now." - -"Yes, ma'm; please tell 'em good-bye fur me; and I hopes young Masser -will soon be well agin. I'd like to see him afore I went, but I don't -want to 'sturb him." - -"Well, that will do, go on now." - -"Tell young Masser good-bye," Ginsy said, addressing her child. - -"Good-bye," repeated Miss Jane very carelessly, scarcely looking toward -them, and they moved away, and shaking hands with the servants, they -marched on to the wagon. - -All this time Amy had remained like one transfixed; little Ben held one -of her hands, whilst Janey and Luce grasped her skirts firmly. These -children had no clothes, for, as they performed no regular labor, they -were not allowed a change of apparel. On a Saturday night, whilst they -slept, Amy washed out the articles which they had worn during the week; -and now, poor things, they had no bundles to be made up. - -"Come 'long wid yer, young ones," and Tompkins took Ben by the hand; -but he stoutly refused to go, crying out: - -"Go 'way, and let me 'lone." - -"Come on, I'll give you a lump of sugar." - -"I won't, I won't." - -All of them held tightly to Amy, whose vacant face was so stony in its -deep despair, that it struck terror to my soul. - -"No more fuss," said Mr. Peterkin, and he raised his large whip to -strike the screaming Ben a blow; but that motherly instinct that had -taught Amy to protect them thus long, was not now dead, and upon her -outstretched arm the blow descended. A great, fearful gash was made, -from which the fresh blood streamed rapidly; but she minded it not. -What, to that lightning-burnt soul, were the wounds of the body? -Nothing, aye nothing! - -"Oh, don't mark 'em, Peterkin, it will spile the sale," said Tompkins. - -"Come 'long now, niggers, I has no more time to wait;" and, with a -strong wrench, he broke Ben's arms loose from Amy's form, and, holding -him firmly, despite his piteous cries, he ordered Jake to bring the -other two also. This order was executed, and quickly Luce and Janey were -in the grasp of Jake, and borne shrieking to the cart, in which all -three of them were bound and laid. - -Speechless, stony, petrified, stood Amy. At length, as if gifted with a -supernatural energy, she leaped forward, as the cart drove off, and fell -across the path, almost under the feet of the advancing horses. But not -yet for thee, poor suffering child, will come the Angel of Death! It has -been decreed that you shall endure and wait a while longer. - -By an adroit check upon the rein, Nace stopped the wagon suddenly, and -Jake, who was standing near by, lifted Amy up. - -"Take her to the house, and see that she does herself no harm," said Mr. -Peterkin. - -"Yes, Masser, I will," was the reply of the obsequious Jake. - -And so the cart drove on. I shall never forget the sight! Those poor, -down-cast creatures, tied hand and foot, were conveyed they knew not -whither. The shrieks and screams of those children ring now in my ears. -Oh, doleful, most doleful! Why came there no swift execution of that -Divine threat, "Whoso causeth harm to one of these little ones, it were -better for him that a mill-stone were hung about his neck and that he -were drowned in the sea." - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - -TOUCHING FAREWELL FULL OF PATHOS--THE PARTING--MY GRIEF. - - -The half insensible form of Amy was borne by Jake into the cabin, and -laid upon the cot which had been Aunt Polly's. He then closed and -secured the door after him. - -Where, all this time, was Miss Bradly? She, in her terror, had buried -her head upon the bed, on which young master still slept. She tried to -drown the sound of those frantic cries that reached her, despite the -closed door and barred shutter. Oh, did they not reach the ear of -Almighty love? - -"Well, I am glad," exclaimed Miss Tildy, "that it is all over. Somehow, -Jane, I did not like the sound of those young children's cries. Might it -not have been well to let Amy go too?" - -"No, of course not. Now that Lindy has been sold, we need a house-girl, -and Amy may be made a very good one; besides, she enraged me so by -attempting to spoil the sale of Ben." - -"Did she do that? Oh, well, I have no pity for her." - -"It would be something very new, Till, for you to pity a nigger." - -"So it would--yet I was weak enough to feel badly when I heard the -children scream." - -"Oh, you are only nervous." - -"I believe I am, and think I will take some medicine." - -"Take medicine," to stifle human pity! - -"What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug would scour" the -slaveholder's nature of harshness and brutality? Could this be found, -"I would applaud to the very echo, that should applaud again;" but, -alas! there is no remedy for it. Education has taught many of them to -guard their "beloved institution" with a sort of patriotic fervor and -religious zeal. - -When master returned that evening, he was elated to a wonderful degree. -Tompkins had paid him a large sum in ready cash, and this put him in a -good humor with himself and everybody else. He almost felt kindly toward -the negroes. But I looked upon him with more than my usual horror. That -great, bloated face, blazing now with joy and the effect of strong -drink, was revolting to me. Every expression of delight from his lips -brought to my mind the horrid troubles he had caused by the simple -exercise of his tyrannic will upon helpless women and children. The -humble appearance of Ginsy, the touching innocence of her child, the -unnoticed silent grief of Lindy, the fearful, heart-rending distraction -of Amy, the agony of her helpless sisters and brother, all rose to my -mind when I heard Mr. Peterkin's mirthful laugh ringing through the -house. - -Late in the evening young master roused up. The effect of the somnolent -draught had died out, and he woke in full possession of his faculties. -Miss Bradly and I were with him when he woke. Raising himself quickly in -the bed, he asked, - -"What hour is it?" - -"About half-past six," said Miss Bradly. - -"So late? Then am I afraid that all is over! Where is Lindy?" - -"Try and rest a little more; then we can talk!" - -"No, I must know _now_." - -"Wait a while longer." - -"Tell me instantly," he said with a nervous impatience very unusual to -him. - -"Drink this, and I will then talk to you," said Miss Bradly, as she held -a cordial to his lips. - -Obediently he swallowed it, and, as he returned the glass, he asked, - -"How has this wretched matter terminated? What has become of that -unfortunate girl?" - -"She has been sold." - -"To the trader?" - -"Yes, but don't talk about it; perhaps she is better off than we think." - -"Is it wise for us thus to silence our sympathies?" - -"Yes, it is, when we are powerless to act." - -"But have we not, each of us, an influence?" - -"Yes, but in such a dubious way, that in cases like the present, we had -better not openly manifest it." - -"Offensive we should never be; but surely we ought to assume a defensive -position." - -"Yes, but you must not excite yourself." - -"Don't think of me. Already I fear I am too self-indulged. Too much time -I have wasted in inaction." - -"What could you have done? And now what can you do?" - -"That is the very question that agitates me. Oh, that I knew my mission, -and had the power to fulfil it!" - -"Who of the others are sold?" he asked, turning to me. - -"Amy's sisters and brother," and I could not avoid tears. - -"Amy, too?" - -"No, sir." - -"Oh, God, this is too bad! and is she not half-distracted?" - -I made no reply, for an admonitory look from Miss Bradly warned me to be -careful as to what I said. - -"Where is father?" - -"In his chamber." - -"Ann, go tell him I wish to speak with him." - -Before obeying I looked toward Miss Bradly, and, finding nothing adverse -in her expression, I went to do as he bade. - -"Is he any worse?" master asked, when I had delivered the message. - -"No, sir; he does not appear to be worse, yet I think he is very -feeble." - -"What right has you to think anything 'bout it?" he said, as he took -from the mantle a large, black bottle and drank from it. - -I made no reply, but followed him into young master's room, and -pretended to busy myself about some trifling matter. - -"What is it you want, Johnny?" - -"Father, you have done a wicked thing!" - -"What do you mean, boy?" - -"You have sold Amy's sisters and brothers away from her." - -"And what's wicked in selling a nigger?" - -"Hasn't a negro human feeling?" - -"Why, they don't feel like white people; of course not." - -"That must be proved, father." - -"Oh, now, my boy, 'taint no use for yer to be wastin' of yer good -feelin's on them miserable, ongrateful niggers." - -"They are not ungrateful; miserable they are, for they have had much -misery imposed upon them." - -"Oh, 'taint no use of talking 'bout it, child, go to sleep." - -"Yes, father, I shall soon sleep soundly enough, in our graveyard." - -Mr. Peterkin moved nervously in his chair, and young master continued, - -"I do not wish to live longer. I can do no good here, and the sight of -so much misery only makes me more wretched. Father, draw close to me, I -have lost a great deal of blood. My chest and throat are very sore. I -feel that the tide of life ebbs low. I am going fast. My little hour -upon earth is almost spent. Ere long, the great mystery of existence -will be known to me. A cold shadow, with death-dews on its form, hovers -round me. I know, by many signs unknown to others, that death is now -upon me. This difficult and labored speech, this failing breath and -filmy eye, these heavy night-sweats--all tell me that the golden bowl is -about to be broken: the silver cord is tightened to its utmost tension. -I am young, father; I have forborne to speak to you upon a subject that -has lain near, near, very near my heart." A violent paroxysm of coughing -here interrupted him. Instantly Miss Bradly was beside him with a -cordial, which he drank mechanically. "There," he continued, as he -poised himself upon his elbow, "there, good Miss Emily, cordials are of -no avail. I do not wish to stay. Father, do you not want me to rest -quietly in my grave?" - -"I don't want you to go to the grave at all, my boy, my boy," and Mr. -Peterkin burst into tears. - -"Yes, but, father, I am going there fast, and no human power can stay -me. I shall be happy and resigned, if I can elicit from you one -promise." - -"What promise is that?" - -"Liberate your slaves." - -"Never!" - -"Look at me, father." - -"Good God!" cried Mr. Peterkin, as his eye met the calm, clear, fixed -gaze of his son, "where did you get that look? heaven and h--l! it will -kill me;" and, rushing from the room, he sought his own apartment, where -he drank long and deeply from the black bottle that graced his -mantel-shelf. This was his drop of comfort. Always after lashing a -negro, he drank plentifully, as if to drown his conscience. Alas! many -another man has sought relief from memory by such libations! Yet these -are the voters, the noblesse, the lords so superior to the lowly -African. These are the men who vote for a perpetuation of our captivity. -Can we hope for a mitigation of our wrongs when such men are our -sovereigns? Cool, clear-visioned men are few, noble philanthropic ones -are fewer. What then have we to hope for? Our interests are at war with -old established usages. The prejudices of society are against us. The -pride of the many is adverse to us. All this we have to fight against; -and strong must be the moral force that can overcome it. - -Mr. Peterkin did not venture in young master's room for several hours -after; and not without having been sent for repeatedly. Meanwhile I -sought Amy, and found her lying on the floor of the cabin, with her face -downwards. She did not move when I entered, nor did she answer me when -I spoke. I lifted her up, but the hard, stony expression of her face, -frightened me. - -"Amy, I will be your friend." - -"I don't want any friend." - -"Yes you do, you like me." - -"No I don't, I doesn't like anybody." - -"Amy, God loves you." - -"I doesn't love Him." - -"Don't talk that way, child." - -"Well, you go off, and let me 'lone." - -"I wish to comfort you." - -"I doesn't want no comfort." - -"Come," said I, "talk freely to me. It will do you good." - -"I tells you I doesn't want no good for to happen to me. I'd rather be -like I is." - -"Amy," and it was with reluctance I ventured to allude to a subject so -painful; but I deemed it necessary to excite her painfully rather than -leave her in that granite-like despair, "you may yet have your sisters -and little brother restored to you." - -"How? how? and when?" she screamed with joy, and started up, her wild -eyes beaming with exultation. - -"Don't be so wild," I said, softly, as I took her little, hard hand, and -pressed it tenderly. - -"But, say, Ann, ken I iver git de chilen back? Has Masser said anything -'bout it? Oh, it 'pears like too much joy fur me to iver know any more. -Poor little Ben, it 'pears like I kan't do nothin' but hear him cry. And -maybe dey is a beatin' of him now. Oh, Lor' a marcy! what shill I do?" -and she rocked her body back and forward in a transport of grief. - -There are some sorrows for which human sympathy is unavailing. What to -that broken heart were words of condolence? Did she care to know that -others felt for her? that another heart wept for her grief? No, like -Rachel of old, she would not be comforted. - -"Oh, Ann!" she added, "please leave me by myself. It 'pears like I -kan't get my breath when anybody is by me. I wants to be by myself. Jist -let me 'lone for a little while, then I'll talk to you." - -I understood the feeling, and complied with her request. - -The slave is so distrustful of sympathy, he is so accustomed to -deception, that he feels secure in the indulgence of his grief only when -he is alone. The petted white, who has friends to cluster round him in -the hour of affliction, cannot understand the loneliness and solitude -which the slave covets as a boon. - -For several days young master lingered on, declining visibly. The hectic -flush deepened upon his cheek, and the glitter of his eye grew fearfully -bright, and there was that sharp contraction of his features that -denoted the certain approach of death. His cough became low and even -harder, and those dreadful night-sweats increased. He lay in a stupid -state, half insensible from the effects of sedatives. Dr. Mandy, who -visited him three times a day, did not conceal from Mr. Peterkin the -fact of his son's near dissolution. - -"Save his life, doctor, and you shall have all I own." - -"If my art could do it, sir, I would, without fee, exert myself for his -restoration." - -Yet for a poor old negro his art could do nothing unfeed. Do ye wonder -that we are goaded on to acts of desperation, when every day, nay, every -moment, brings to our eyes some injustice that is done us--and all -because our faces are dark? - - - "Mislike us not for our complexion, - The shadow'd livery of the burnish'd sun, - To whom we are as neighbors, and near bred; - Bring us the fairest creature Northward born, - Where Phoebus' fire scarce thaws the icicles, - And let us make incision for your love - To prove whose blood is reddest, his or ours." - - -During young master's illness I had but little communication with Amy. -By Miss Jane's order she had been brought into the house to assist in -the dining-room. I gave her all the instruction in my power. She -appeared to listen to me, and learned well; yet everything was done with -that vacant, unmeaning manner, that showed she felt no interest in what -she was doing. I had never heard her allude to "the children" since the -conversation just recorded. Indeed, she appeared to eschew all talk. At -night I had attempted to draw her into conversation, but she always -silenced me by saying, - -"I'm tired, Ann, and wants to sleep." - -This was singular in one so young, who had been reared in such a -reckless manner. I should have been better satisfied if she had talked -more freely of her sorrows; that stony, silent agony that seemed frozen -upon her face, terrified me more than the most volcanic grief; that -sorrow is deeply-rooted and hopeless, that denies itself the relief of -speech. Heaven help the soul thus cut off from the usual sources of -comfort. Oh, young Miss, spoiled daughter of wealth, you whose earliest -breath opened to the splendors of home in its most luxurious form; you -who have early and long known the watchful blessing of maternal love, -and whose soft cheek has flushed to the praises of a proud and happy -father, whose lip has thrilled beneath the pressure of a brother's kiss; -you who have slept upon the sunny slope of life, have strayed 'mid the -flowers, and reposed beneath the myrtles, and beside the fountains, -where fairy fingers have garlanded flowers for your brow, oh, bethink -you of some poor little negro girl, whom you often meet in your daily -walks, whose sad face and dejected air you have often condemned as -sullen, and I ask you now, in the name of sweet humanity, to judge her -kindly. Look, with a pitying eye, upon that face which trouble has -soured and abuse contracted. Repress the harsh word; give her kindness; -'tis this that she longs for. Be you the giver of the cup of cold water -in His name. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - -A CONVERSATION--HOPE BLOSSOMS OUT, BUT CHARLESTOWN IS FULL OF -EXCITABILITY. - - -One evening, during young master's illness, when he was able to sit up -beside the fire, Dr. Mandy came to see him, and, as I sat in his room, -sewing on some fancy work for Miss Jane, I heard the conversation that -passed between them. - -"Have you coughed much?" the doctor asked. - -"A great deal last night." - -"Do the night-sweats continue?" - -"Yes, sir, and are violent." - -"Let me feel your pulse. Here--it is very quick--face is flushed--high -fever." - -"Yes, doctor, I am sinking fast." - -"Oh, keep up your spirits. I have been thinking that the best thing for -you would be to take a trip to Havana. This climate is too variable for -your complaint." - -Young master shook his head mournfully. - -"The change of scene," the doctor went on, "would be of service to you. -A healthful excitement of the imagination, and a different train of -thought, would, undoubtedly, benefit you." - -"What in the South could induce a different train of thought? Oh, -doctor, the horrid system, that there flourishes with such rank power, -would only deepen my train of thought, and make me more wretched than I -am; I would not go near New Orleans, or pass those dreadful plantations, -even to secure the precious boon of health." - -"You will not see anything of the kind. You will only see life at -hotels; and there the slaves are all happy and well used. Besides, my -good boy, the negroes on the plantations are much better used than you -think; and I assure you they are very happy. If you could overhear them -laughing and singing of an evening, you would be convinced that they are -well cared for." - -"Ah, disguise thee as thou wilt, yet, Slavery, thou art horrid and -revolting." - -"You are morbid on the subject." - -"No, only humane; but have I not seen enough to make me morbid?" - -"These are subjects upon which I deem it best to say nothing." - -"That is the invariable argument of self-interest." - -"No, of prudence, Mr. John; I have no right to quarrel with and rail out -against an institution that has the sanction of the law, and which is -acceptable to the interests of my best friends and patrons." - -"Exactly so; the whole matter, so vital to the happiness of others, so -fraught with great humanitarian interests, must be quietly laid on the -shelf, because it may lose you or me a few hundred dollars." - -"Not precisely that either; but, granting, for the sake of hypothesis -only, that slavery is a wrong, what good would all my arguments do? -None, but rather an injury to the very cause they sought to benefit. You -must not exasperate the slave-holders. Leave them to time and their own -reflections. I believe many of the Western States--yes, Kentucky -herself--would at this moment be free from slavery, if it had not been -for the officious interference of the North. The people of the West and -South are hot, fiery and impetuous. They may be persuaded and coaxed -into a measure, but never driven. All this talk and gasconade of -Abolitionists have but the tighter bound the negroes." - -"I am sorry to hear you thus express yourself, for you give me a more -contemptible opinion of the Southern and Western men, or rather the -slave-holding class, than I had before. And so they are but children, -who must be coaxed, begged, and be-sugar-plumed into doing a simple act -of justice. Have they not the manhood to come out boldly, and say this -thing is wrong, and that they will no longer countenance it in their -midst; that they will, for the sake of justice and sympathy with -humanity, liberate these creatures, whom they have held in an unjust and -wicked bondage? Were they to act thus, then might they claim for -themselves the title of chevaliers." - -"Yes; but they take a different view of the subject; they look upon -slavery as just and right--a dispensation of Providence, and feel that -they are as much entitled to their slaves as another man is to his -house, carriage, or horse." - -"Oh, how they shut their hearts against the voice of misery, and close -their eyes to the rueful sigh of human grief. I never heard a -pro-slavery man who could, upon any reasonable ground, defend his -position. The slavery argument is not only a wicked, but an absurd one. -How wise men can be deluded by it I am at a loss to understand. -Infatuated they must be, else they could not uphold a system as -tyrannous as it is base." - -"Well, we will say no more upon this subject," said the doctor, as Mr. -Peterkin entered. - -"What's the matter?" the latter inquired, as he listlessly threw himself -into a chair. - -"Nothing, only Mr. John is not all right on the 'goose,'" replied Dr. -Mandy, with a facetious smile. - -"And not likely to be," said Mr. Peterkin; "Johnny has given me a great -deal of trouble 'bout this matter; but I hope he will outgrow it. 'Tis -only a foolish notion. He was 'lowed to gad 'bout too much with them ar' -devilish niggers, an' so 'bibed their quare ideas agin slavery. Now, in -my 'pinion, my niggers is a darned sight better off than many of them -poor whites at the North." - -"But are they as free?" asked young master. - -"No, to be sure they is not," and here Mr. Peterkin ejected from his -mouth an amount of tobacco-juice that nearly extinguished the fire. - -"Woe be unto the man who takes from a fellow-being the priceless right -of personal liberty!" exclaimed young master, with his fine eyes -fervently raised. - -"Yes, but everybody don't desarve liberty. Niggers ain't fit for to -govern 'emselves nohow. They has bin too long 'customed to havin' -masters. Them that's went to Libery has bin of no 'count to 'emselves -nor nobody else. I tell yer, niggers was made to be slaves, and yer -kan't change their Creator's design. Why, you see, doctor, a nigger's -mind is never half as good as a white man's;" and Mr. Peterkin conceived -this speech to be the very best extract of lore and sapience. - -"Why is not the African mind equal to the Caucasian?" inquired young -master, with that pointed naivete for which he was so remarkable. - -"Oh, it tain't no use, Johnny, fur you to be talkin' that ar' way. It's -all fine enoff in newspapers, but it won't do to bring it into practice, -'specially out here in the West." - -"No, father, I begin to fear that it is of no avail to talk common sense -and preach humanity in a community like this." - -"Don't talk any more on this subject," said the doctor; "I am afraid it -does Mr. John no particular good to be so painfully excited. I was going -to propose to you, Mr. Peterkin, to send him South, either on a little -coasting trip, or to Havana _via_ New Orleans. I think this climate is -too rigorous and uncertain for one of his frail constitution to remain -in it during the winter." - -"Well, doctor, I am perfectly willin' fur him to go, if I had anybody to -go with him; but you see it wouldn't be safe to trust him by himself. -Now an idee has jist struck me, which, if you'll agree to, will 'zackly -suit me. 'Tis for you to go 'long; then he'd have a doctor to rinder him -any sarvice he might need. Now Doct. if you'll go, I'll foot the bill, -and pay you a good bonus in the bargain." - -"Well, it will be a great professional sacrifice; but I'm willing to -make it for a friend like you, and for a patient in whose recovery or -improvement I feel so deeply interested." - -"Make no sacrifices for me, dear doctor; my poor wreck of life is not -worth a sacrifice; I can weather it out a little longer in this region. -It requires a stronger air than that of the tropics to restore strength -to my poor decayed lungs." - -"Yes, but you must not despond," said the doctor. - -"No, my boy, you musn't give up. You are too young to die. You are my -only son, and I can't spare you." Again Mr. Peterkin turned uneasily in -his chair. - -"But tell me, doctor," he added, "don't you think he is growin' -stronger?" - -"Why, yes I do; and if he will consent to go South, I shall have strong -hope of him." - -"He must consent," exclaimed Mr. Peterkin, with a decided emphasis. - -"You know my objection, doctor, yet I cannot oppose my wish against -father's judgment; so I will go, but 'twill be without the least -expectation of ever again seeing home." - -"Oh, don't, don't, my boy," and Mr. Peterkin's voice faltered, and his -eyes were very moist. - -"Idols of clay!" I thought, "how frail ye are; albeit ye are -manufactured out of humanity's finest porcelain, yet a rude touch, a -slight jar, and the beautiful fabric is destroyed forever!" - -Mr. Peterkin's treasure, his only son, was wasting slowly, inch by inch, -before his eyes--dying with slow and silent certainty. The virus was in -his blood, and no human aid could check its strides. The father looked -on in speechless dread. He saw the insidious marks of the incurable -malady. He read its ravages upon the broad white brow of his son, where -the pulsing veins lay like tightly-drawn cords; and on the hueless lip, -that was shrivelled like an autumn leaf; in the dilated pupil of that -prophet-like eye; in the fiery spot that blazed upon each hollow cheek; -and in the short, disturbed breathing that seemed to come from a brazen -tube; in all these he traced the omens of that stealthy disease that -robs us, like a thief in the night-time, of our richest treasures. - -"Well, my boy," began Mr. Peterkin, "you must prepare to start in the -course of a few days." - -"I am ready to leave at any moment, father; and, if we do not start -very soon, I am thinking you will have to consign me to the earth, -rather than send me on a voyage pleasure-hunting." - -A bright smile, though mournful as twilight's shadows, flitted over the -pale face of young master as he said this. - -"Why, Johnny, you are better this evening," said Miss Bradly, as she -entered the room, rushed up to him, and began patting him affectionately -on either cheek. - -"Yes, I am better, good Miss Emily; but still feeble, oh so feeble! My -spirits are better, but the restless fire that burns eternally here will -give me no rest," and he placed his hand over his breast. - -"Yes, but you must quench that fire." - -"Where is the draught clear and pure enough to quench a flame so -consuming?" - -"The dew of divine grace can do it." - -"Yes, but it descends not upon my dried and burnt spirit." - -Mr. Peterkin turned off, and affected to take no note of this little -colloquy, whilst Doctor Mandy began to chew furiously. - -The fact is, the Peterkin family had begun to distrust Miss Bradly's -principles ever since the day young master administered such a reproof -to her muffled conscience; and in truth, I believe she had half-declared -her opposition to the slave system; and they began to abate the fervor -of their friendship for her. The young ladies, indeed, kept up their -friendly intercourse with her, though with a modification of their -former warmth. - -I fancied that Miss Bradly looked happier, now that she had cast off -disguise and stood forth in her true character. That cloud of faltering -distrust that once hung round her like a filmy web, had been dissipated -and she stood out, in full relief, with the beautiful robe of truth -draping and dignifying her nature. Woman, when once she interests -herself in the great cause of humanity, goes to work with an ability and -ardor that put to shame the colder and slower action of man. The heart -and mind co-work, and thus a woman, as if by the dictate of inspiration, -will achieve with a single effort the mighty deed, for the attainment of -which men spend years in idle planning. Women have done much, and may -yet achieve more toward the emancipation and enfranchisement of the -world. The historic pages glitter with the noble acts of heroic -womanhood, and histories yet unwritten will, I believe, proclaim the -good which they shall yet do. Who but the Maid of Orleans rescued her -country? Whose hand but woman's dealt the merited death-blow to one of -France's bloodiest tyrants? In all times, she has been most loyal to the -highest good. Woman has ever been brave! She was the instrument of our -redemption, and the early watcher at the tomb of our Lord. To her heart -the Saviour's doctrine came with a special welcome message. And I now -believe that through her agency will yet come the political ransom of -the slaves! God grant it, and speed on the blessed day! - -I now looked upon Miss Bradly with the admiring interest with which I -used to regard her; and though I had never had from her an explanation -of the change or changes through which she had passed since that -memorable conversation recorded in the earlier pages of this book, I -felt assured from the fact that young master had learned to love her, -that all was right at the core of her heart; and I was willing to -forgive her for the timidity and vacillation that had caused her to play -the dissembler. The memorable example of the loving but weak Apostle -Peter should teach us to look leniently upon all those who cannot pass -safely through the ordeal of human contempt, without having their -principles, or at least actions, a little warped. Of course there are -higher natures, from whose fortitude the rack and the stake can provoke -nothing but smiles; but neither good St. Peter nor Miss Bradly were of -such material. - -"I am going to leave you very soon, Miss Emily." - -"And where are you going, John?" - -"They will send me to the South. As the poor slaves say, I'm going down -the river;" and a sweet smile flitted over that gentle face. - -"Who will accompany you?" - -"Father wishes Doctor Mandy to go; but I fear it will be too great a -professional sacrifice." - -"Oh, some one must go with you. You shall not go alone." - -"I do not wish to go at all. I shall see nothing in the South to please -me. Those magnificent plantations of rice, sugar, and cotton, those -lordly palaces, embowered in orange trees, those queenly magnolia -groves, and all the thousand splendors that cover the coast with -loveliness, will but recall to my mind the melancholy fact that -slave-labor produces the whole. I shall fancy that some poor -heart-broken negro man, or some hopeless mother or lonely wife watered -those fields with tears. Oh, that the dropping of those sad eyes had, -like the sowing of the dragon's teeth, produced a band of armed, -bristling warriors, strong enough to conquer all the tyrants and -liberate the captives!" - -"This can never be accomplished suddenly. It must be the slow and -gradual work of years. Like all schemes of reformation, it moves but by -inches. Wise legislators have proposed means for the final abolition of -slavery; but, though none have been deemed practicable, I look still for -the advent of the day when the great sun shall look goldenly down upon -the emancipation of this dusky tribe, and when the word slave shall -nowhere find expression upon the lips of Christian men." - -"When do you predict the advent of that millennial day?" - -"I fear it is far distant; yet is it pleasant to think that it will -come, no matter at how remote an epoch." - -"Distant is it only because men are not thoroughly Christianized. No man -that will willingly hold his brother in bondage is a Christian. -Moreover, the day is far off in the future, because of the ignorant -pride of men. They wish to send the poor negro away to the unknown land -from whence his ancestors were stolen. We virtually say to the Africans, -now you have cultivated and made beautiful our continent, we have no -further use for you. You have grown up, it is true, beneath the shadow -of our trees, you were born upon our soil, your early associations are -here. Your ignorance precludes you from the knowledge of the excellence -of any other land: yet for all this we take no care, it is our business -to drive you hence. Cross the ocean you must. Find a home in a strange -country; lay your broad shoulder to the work, and make for yourself an -interest there. What wonder is it, if the poor, ignorant negro shakes -his head mournfully, and says: "No, I would rather stay here; I am a -slave, it is true, but then I was born here, and here I will be buried. -I am tightly kept, have a master and a mistress, but then I know what -this is. Hard to endure, I grant it--but then it is known to me. I can -bear on a little longer, till death sets me free. No, this is my native -shore; here let me stay." Their very ignorance begets a kind of -philosophy that - - - "Makes them rather bear those ills they have, - Than fly to others that they know not of." - - -Now, why, I ask, have they not as much right to remain here as we have? -This is their birthplace as well as ours. We are, likewise, descendants -of foreigners. If we drive them hence, what excuse have we for it? Our -forefathers were not the aborigines of this country. As well might the -native red men say to us: "Fly, leave the Western continent, 'tis our -home; we will not let you stay here. You have cultivated it, now _we_ -will enjoy it. Go and labor elsewhere." What would we think of this? Yet -such is our line of conduct toward those poor creatures, who have toiled -to adorn our homes. Then again, we allow the Irish, Germans, and -Hungarians, to dwell among us. Why ban the African?" - -"These, my young friend, are questions that have puzzled the wisest -brains." - -"If it entered more into the hearts, and disturbed the brains less, it -would be better for them and for the slaves." - -"Now, come, Miss Emily, I'm tired of hearing you and that boy talk all -that nonsense. It's time you were both thinking of something else. You -are too old to be indulgin' of him in that ar' stuff. It will never -come to any good. Them ar' niggers is allers gwine to be slaves, and -white folks had better be tendin' to what consarns 'emselves." - -Such arguments as the foregoing were carried on every day. Meanwhile we, -who formed the subject of them, still went on in our usual way, half-fed -and half-clad, knocked and kicked like dogs. - -Amy went about her assigned work, with the same hard-set composure with -which she had begun. Talking little to any one, she tried to discharge -her duties with a docility and faithfulness very remarkable. Yet she -sternly rebuked all conversation. I made many efforts to draw her out -into a free, sociable talk, and was always told that it was not -agreeable to her. - -I now had no companionship among those of my own color. Aunt Polly was -in the grave; Amy wrapped in the silence of her own grief; and Sally -(the successor of Aunt Polly in the culinary department) was a sulky, -ignorant woman, who did not like to be sociable; and the men, with their -beastly instincts, were objects of aversion to me. So my days and nights -passed in even deeper gloom than I had ever before known. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - -THE SUPPER--ITS CONSEQUENCES--LOSS OF SILVER--A LONELY NIGHT--AMY. - - -The winter was now drawing to a close. The heavy, dreary winter, that -had hung like an incubus upon my hours, was fast drawing to an end. Many -a little, tuneful bird came chirping with the sunny days of the waning -February. Already the sunbeam had begun to give us a hint of the -spring-warmth; the ice had melted away, and the moistened roofs of the -houses began to smoke with the drying breath of the sun, and little -green pods were noticeable upon the dried branches of the forest trees. -It was on such a day, when the eye begins to look round upon Nature, and -almost expects to solve the wondrous phenomenon of vegetation, that I -was engaged arranging Miss Jane's wardrobe. I had just done up some -laces for her, and finished off a nice silk morning-dress. She was -making extensive preparations for a visit to the city of L. The -protracted rigors of the winter and her own fancied ill-health had -induced her to postpone the trip until the opening of spring. - -It was decided that I should accompany her as lady's maid; and the fact -is, I was desirous of any change from the wearying monotony of my life. - -Young master had been absent during the whole winter. Frequent letters -from Dr. Mandy (who had accompanied him) informed the family of his -slowly-improving health; yet the doctor stated in each communication -that he was not strong enough to write a letter himself. This alarmed -me, for I knew that he must be excessively weak, if he denied himself -the gratification of writing to his family. Miss Bradly came to the -house but seldom; and then only to inquire the news from young master. -Her principles upon the slavery question had become pretty well known in -the neighborhood; so her residence there was not the most pleasant. -Inuendoes, of a most insulting character, had been thrown out, highly -prejudicial to her situation. Foul slanders were in busy circulation -about her, and she began to be a taboed person. So I was not surprised -to hear her tell Miss Jane that she thought of returning to the North -early in the spring. I had never held any private conversation with her -since that memorable one; for now that her principles were known, she -was too much marked for a slave to be allowed to speak with her alone. -Her sorrowful face struck me with pity. I knew her to be one of that -time-serving kind, by whom the loss of caste and social position is -regarded as the most fell disaster. - -As I turned the key of Miss Jane's wardrobe, she came into the room, -with an unusually excited manner, exclaiming, - -"Ann, where is your Miss Tildy?" - -Upon my answering that I did not know, she bade me go and seek her -instantly, and say that she wished to speak with her. As I left the -room, I observed Miss Jane draw a letter from the folds of her dress. -This was hint enough. My mother-wit told me the rest. - -Finding Miss Tildy with a book, in a quiet corner of the parlor, I -delivered Miss Jane's message, and withdrew. The contents of Miss Jane's -letter soon became known; for it was, to her, of such an exciting -nature, that it could not be held in secresy. The letter was from Mr. -Summerville, and announced that he would pay her a visit in the course -of a few days. - -And, for the next "few days," the whole house was in a perfect -consternation. All hands were at work. Carpets were taken up, shaken, -and put down again with the "clean side" up. Paint was scoured, windows -were washed; the spare bedroom was re-arranged, and adjusted in style; -the French couch was overspread with Miss Tildy's silk quilt, that had -taken the prize at the Agricultural Fair; and fresh bouquets were -collected from the green-house, and placed upon the mantel. Everything -looked very nice about the house, and in the kitchen all sorts of -culinary preparations had gone on. Cakes, cookies, and confections had -been made in abundance. As Amy expressed it, in her quaintly comical -way, "Christmas is comin' again." It was the first and only time since -the departure of "the children," that I had heard her indulge in any of -her old drollery. - -At length the "day" arrived, and with it came Mr. Summerville. Whilst he -remained with us, everything went off in the way that Miss Jane desired. -There were fine dinners, with plenty of wine, roast turkey, curry -powder, desserts, &c. The silver and best china had been brought out, -and Mr. Peterkin behaved himself as well as he could. He even consented -to use a silver fork, which, considering his prejudice against the -article, was quite a concession for him to make. - -Time sped on (as it always will do), and brought the end of the week, -and with it, the end of Mr. Summerville's visit. I thought, from a -certain softening of Miss Jane's eye, and from the length of the parting -interview, that "_matters_" had been arranged between her and Mr. -Summerville. After the last adieu had been given, and Miss Jane had -rubbed her eyes enough with her fine pocket-handkerchief (or, perhaps, -in this case, it would be well to employ the suggestion of a modern -author, and say her "lachrymal,") I say, after all was over, and Mr. -Summerville's interesting form was fairly lost in the distance, Miss -Tildy proposed that they should settle down to their usual manner of -living. Accordingly, the silver was all rubbed brightly by Amy, whose -business it was, then handed over to Miss Tildy to be locked up in the -bureau. - -For a few weeks matters went on with their usual dullness. Master was -still smoking his cob-pipe, kicking negroes, and blaspheming; and Miss -Jane making up little articles for the approaching visit to the city. -She and Miss Tildy sat a great deal in their own room, talking and -speculating upon the coming joys. Passing in and out, I frequently -caught fragments of conversation that let me into many of their -secrets. Thus I learned that Miss Jane's chief object in visiting the -city was to purchase a bridal trousseau, that Mr. Summerville "had -proposed," and, of course, been accepted. He lived in the city; so it -was decided that, after the celebration of the nuptial rite, Miss Tildy -should accompany the bride to her new home, and remain with her for -several weeks. - -Sundry little lace caps were manufactured; handkerchiefs embroidered; -dresses made and altered; collars cut, and an immence deal of -"transfering" was done by the sisters Peterkin. - -We, of the "colored population," were stinted even more than formerly; -for they deemed it expedient to economize, in order to be the better -able to meet the pecuniary exigencies of the marriage. Thus time wore -along, heavily enough for the slaves; but doubtless delightful to the -white family. The enjoyment of pleasure, like all other prerogatives, -they considered as exclusively their own. - -Time, in its rugged course, had brought no change to Amy. If her heart -had learned to bear its bereavement better, or had grown more tender in -its anxious waiting, we knew it not from her word or manner. The same -settled, rocky look, the same abstracted air, marked her deportment. -Never once had I heard her laugh, or seen her weep. She still avoided -conversation, and was assiduous in the discharge of her domestic duties. -If she did a piece of work well, and was praised for it, she received -the praise with the same indifferent air; or if, as was most frequently -the case, she was harshly chided and severely punished, 'twas all the -same. No tone or word could move those rigid features. - -One evening Miss Bradly came over to see the young ladies, and inquire -the latest news from young master. Miss Jane gave orders that the table -should be set with great care, and all the silver displayed. They had -long since lost their olden familiarity, and, out of respect to the -present coldness that existed between them, they (the Misses Peterkin) -desired to show off "before the discredited school-mistress." I heard -Miss Bradly ask Mr. Peterkin when he heard from young master. - -"I've just got a letter from Dr. Mandy. They ar' still in New Orleans; -but expected to start for home in 'bout three days. The doctor gives me -very little cause for hope; says Johnny is mighty weak, and had a pretty -tough cough. He says the night-sweats can't be broke; and the boy is -very weak, not able to set up an hour at a time. This is very -discouragin', Miss Emily. Sometimes it 'pears like 'twould kill me, too, -my heart is so sot 'pon that boy;" and here Mr. Peterkin began to smoke -with great violence, a sure sign that he was laboring under intense -excitement. - -"He is a very noble youth," said Miss Bradly, with a quivering voice and -a moist eye; "I am deeply attached to him, and the thought of his death -is one fraught with pain to me. I hope Doctor Mandy is deceived in the -prognostics he deems so bad. Johnny's life is a bright example, and one -that is needed." - -"Yes, you think it will aid the Abolition cause; but not in this region, -I can assure you," said Miss Tildy, as she tossed her head knowingly. -"I'd like to know where Johnny learned all the Anti-slavery cant. Do you -know, Miss Emily, that your incendiary principles lost you caste in this -neighborhood, where you once stood as a model?" - -Miss Tildy had touched Miss Bradly in her vulnerable point. "Caste" was -a thing that she valued above reputation, and reckoned more desirable -than honor. Had it not been for a certain goodness of heart, from which -she could not escape (though she had often tried) she would have -renounced her Anti-slavery sentiments and never again avowed them; but -young master's words had power to rescue her almost shipwrecked -principles, and then, whilst smarting under the lash of his rebuke, she -attempted, like many an astute politician, to "run on both sides of the -question;" but this was an equivocal position that the "out and out" -Kentuckians were not going to allow. She had to be, in their distinct -phraseology, "one thing or the other;" and, accordingly, aided by young -master and her sense of justice, she avowed herself "the other." And, -of course, with this avowal, came the loss of cherished friends. In -troops they fell away from her. Their averted looks and distant nods -nearly drove her mad. If young master had been by to encourage and -sustain her with gracious words, she could have better borne it; but, -single-handed and alone, she could not battle against adversity. And now -this speech of Miss Tildy's was very untimely. She winced under it, yet -dared not reply. What a contemptible character, to the brave mind, seems -one lacking moral courage! - -"I want to see Johnny once again, and then I shall leave for the North," -said Miss Bradly, in a pitiful tone. - -"See Naples and die, eh?" laughed Miss Tildy. - -"Always and ever ready with your fun," replied Miss Bradly. - -At first her wiry turnings, her open and shameless sycophancy, and now -her cringing and fawning upon the Peterkins, caused me to lose all -respect for her. In the hour of her trouble, when deserted by those whom -she had loved as friends, when her pecuniary prospects were blighted, I -felt deeply for her, and even forgave the falsehood; but now when I saw -her shrink from the taunt and invective of Miss Tildy, and then minister -to her vanity, I felt that she was too little even for contempt. At tea, -that evening, whilst serving the table, I was surprised to observe Miss -Jane's face very red with anger, and her manner exceedingly irascible. I -began to wonder if I had done anything to exasperate her; but could -think of no offence of which I had been guilty. I knew from the way in -which she conversed with all at the table, that none of them were -offenders. I was the more surprised at her anger, as she had been, for -the last week, in such an excellent humor, getting herself ready for the -visit to the city. Oh, how I dreaded to see Miss Bradly leave, for then, -I knew the storm would break in all its fury! - -I was standing in the kitchen, alone, trying to think what could have -offended Miss Jane, when Amy came up to me, saying, - -"Oh, Ann, two silver forks is lost, an' Miss Tildy done 'cuse me of -stealin' 'em, an' I declar 'fore heaven, I gib ebery one of 'em to Miss -Tildy de mornin' Misser Summerbille lef, an' now she done told Miss Jane -dat I told a lie, and that I stole 'em. Lor' knows what dey is gwine to -do 'long wid me; but I don't kere much, so dey kills me soon and sets me -out my misery at once." - -"When did they miss the forks?" - -"Wy, to-night, when I went to set de table, I found dat two of 'em -wasn't dar; so I axed Miss Tildy whar dey was, an' she said she didn't -know. Den I axed Miss Jane; she say, 'ax Miss Tildy.' Den when I told -Miss Tildy dat, she got mad; struck me a lick right cross my face. Den I -told her bout de time Mr. Summerbille lef, when I give 'em to her. She -say, 'you's a liar, an' hab stole 'em.' Den I begun to declar I hadn't, -and she call Miss Jane, and say to her dat she knowed I hab stole 'em, -and Miss Jane got mad; kicked me, pulled my har till I screamed; den I -'spose she did 'ant want Miss Bradly to hear me; so she stopped, but -swar she'd beat me to death if I didn't get 'em fur her right off. Now, -Ann, I doesn't know whar dey is, if I was to be kilt for it." - -She drew the back of her hand across her eyes, and I saw that it was -moist. I was glad of this, for her silent endurance was more horrible to -look upon than this physical softness. - -"Oh, God!" I exclaimed, "I would that young master were here." - -"What fur, Ann?" - -"He might intercede and prevent them from using you so cruelly." - -"I doesn't wish he was har; for I lubs young Masser, an' he is good; if -he was to see me a sufferin' it wud stress him, an' make his complaint -worse; an' he couldn't do no good; for dey will beat me, no matter who -begs. Ob, it does seem so strange that black people was eber made. I is -glad dat de chillen isn't har; for de sight ob dem cryin' round de -'post,' wud nearly kill me. I can bar anythin' fur myself, but not fur -'em. Oh, I hopes dey is dead." - -And here she heaved a dreadful groan. This was the first time I had -heard her allude to them, and I felt a choking rush in my throat. - -"Don't cry, Ann, take kere ob yourself. It 'pears like my time has come. -I don't feel 'feard, an' dis is de fust time I'se eber bin able to speak -'bout de chillen. If eber you sees 'em, (I niver will), tell 'em dat I -niver did forget 'em; dat night an' day my mind was sot on 'em, an' -please, Ann, gib 'em dis." - -Here she took from her neck a string that held her mother's gift, and -the coin young master had given her, suspended to it. She looked at it -long and wistfully, then, slowly pressing it to her lips, she said in a -low, plaintive voice that went to my heart, "Poor Mammy." - -I then took it from her, and hid it in my pocket. A cold horror stole -over me. I had not the power to gainsay her; for an instinctive idea -that something terrible was going to occur, chained my lips. - -"Ann, I thanks you for all your kindness to me. I hopes you may hab a -better time den I has hab. I feel, Ann, as if I niver should come down -from dat post alive. - -"Trust in God, Amy." - -She shook her head despairingly. - -"He will save you." - -"No, God don't kare for black folks." - -"What did young master tell you about that? Did he not say God loved all -His creatures alike?" - -"Yes, but black folks aint God's critters." - -"Yes, they are, just as much as white people." - -"No dey aint." - -"Oh, Amy, I wish I could make you understand how it is." - -"You kant make me belieb dat ar' way, no how you can fix it. God don't -kare what a comes ob niggers; an' I is glad he don't, kase when I dies, -I'll jist lay down and rot like de worms, and dere wont be no white -folks to 'buse me." - -"No, there will be no white folks to abuse you in heaven; but God and -His angels will love you, if you will do well and try to get there." - -"I don't want to go ther, for God is one of the white people, and, in -course, he'd beat de niggers." - -Oh, was not this fearful, fearful ignorance? Through the solid rock of -her obtusity, I could, with no argument of mine, make an aperture for a -ray of heavenly light to penetrate. Do Christians, who send off -missionaries, realize that heathendom exists in their very midst; aye, -almost at their own hearthstone? Let them enlighten those that dwell in -the bonds of night on their own borders; then shall their efforts in -distant lands be blest. Numberless instances, such as the one I have -recorded, exist in the slave States. The masters who instruct their -slaves in religion, could be numbered; and I will venture to assert -that, if the census were taken in the State of Kentucky, the number -would not exceed twenty. Here and there you will find an instance of a -mistress who will, perhaps, on a Sunday evening, talk to a female slave -about the propriety of behaving herself; but the gist of the argument, -the hinge upon which it turns, is--"obey your master and mistress;" upon -this one precept hang all the law and the prophets. - -That night, after my house duties were discharged, I went to the cabin, -where I found Amy lying on her face, weeping bitterly. I lifted her up, -and tried to console her; but she exclaimed, with more energy than I had -ever heard her, - -"Ann, every ting seems so dark to me. I kan't see past to-morrow. I has -bin thinkin' of Aunt Polly; I keeps seein' her, no matter what way I -turns." - -"You are frightened," I ventured to say. - -"No, I isn't, but I feels curus." - -"Let me teach you to pray." - -"Will it do me any good?" - -"Yes, if you put faith in God." - -"What's faith?" - -"Believe that God is strong and willing to save you; that is faith." - -"Who is God? I never seed him." - -"No, but He sees you." - -"Whar is He?" and she looked fearfully around the room, in which the -scanty fire threw a feeble glare. - -"Everywhere. He is everywhere," I answered. - -"Is He in dis room?" she asked in terror, and drew near me. - -"Yes, He is here." - -"Oh lor! He may tell Masser on me." - -This ignorance may, to the careless reader, seem laughable; but, to me, -it was most horrible, and I could not repress my tears. Here was the -force of education. Master was to her the strongest thing or person in -existence. Of course she could not understand a higher power than that -which had governed her life. There are hundreds as ignorant; but no -missionaries come to enlighten them! - -"Oh, don't speak that way; you know God made you." - -"Yes, but dat was to please Masser. He made me fur to be a slave." - -Now, how would the religious slave-holder answer that? - -I strove, but with no success, to make her understand that over her -soul, her temporal master had no control; but her ignorance could not -see a difference between the body and soul. Whoever owned the former, -she thought, was entitled to the latter. Finding I could make no -impression upon her mind, I lay down and tried to sleep; but rest was an -alien to me. I dreaded the breaking of the morn. Poor Amy slept, and I -was glad that she did. Her overtaxed body yielded itself up to the most -profound rest. In the morning, when I saw her sleeping so soundly on the -pallet, I disliked to arouse her. I felt, as I fancied a human jailer -must feel, whose business it is to awaken a criminal on the morning of -his execution; yet I had it to do, for, if she had been tardy at her -work, it would have enraged her tyrants the more, and been worse for -her. - -Rubbing her eyes, she sat upright on the pallet and murmured, - -"Dis is de day. I's to be led to de post, and maybe kilt." - -I dared not comfort her, and only bade her to make haste and attend to -her work. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - -THE PUNISHMENT--CRUELTY--ITS FATAL CONSEQUENCE--DEATH. - - -At breakfast, Miss Jane shook her head at Amy, saying, - -"I'll settle accounts with you, presently." - -I wondered if that tremulous form, that stood eyeing her in affright, -did not soften her; but no, the "shaking culprit," as she styled Amy, -was the very creature upon whom she desired to deal swift justice. - -Pitiable was the sight in the kitchen, where Jake and Dan, great stout -fellows, were making their breakfasts off of scraps of meat, old bones -and corn-bread, whilst the aroma of coffee, broiled chicken, and -egg-cakes was wafted to them from the house-table. - -"I wish't I had somepin' more to eat," said Dan. - -"You's never satisfy," replied Sally, the cook; "you gits jist as much -as de balance, yit you makes de most complaints." - -"No I doesn't." - -"Yes, you does; don't he, Jake?" - -"Why, to be sartain he does," said Jake, who of late had agreed to live -with Sally as a wife. Of course no matrimonial rite was allowed, for Mr. -Peterkin was consistent enough to say, that, as the law did not -recognize the validity of negro marriages, he saw no use of the -tomfoolery of a preacher in the case; and this is all reasonable enough. - -"You allers takes Sal's part," said Dan, "now sense she has got to be -your wife; you and her is allers colloged together agin' de rest ov us." - -"Wal, haint I right for to 'tect my ole 'oman?" - -"Now, ha, ha!" cried Nace, as he entered, "de idee ob yer 'tectin' a -wife! I jist wisht Masser sell yer apart, den whar is yer 'tection ob -one anoder?" - -"Oh, dat am very different. Den I'd jist git me anoder ole 'oman, an' -she'd git her anoder ole man." - -"Sure an' I would," was Sally's reply; "hain't I done had five old men -already, an' den if Jake be sole, I'de git somebody else." - -"White folks don't do dat ar' way," interposed Dan, as he picked away at -a bone. - -"In course dey don't. Why should dey?" put in Nace. "Ain't dey our -Massers, and habn't dey dar own way in ebery ting?" - -"I wisht I'd bin born white," added Dan. - -"Ya, ya, dat is funny!" - -"Do de free colored folks live like de whites?" asked Sally. - -"Why, laws, yes; once when I went with Masser to L.," Nace began, "at de -tavern whar we put up, dar was a free collored man what waited on de -table, and anoder one what kipt barber-shop in de tavern. Wal, dey was -drest as nice as white men. Dar dey had dar standin' collar, and nice -cravat, and dar broadcloth, and dar white handkersher; and de barber, he -had some wool growin' on his upper lip jist like de quality men. Ya, ya, -but I sed dis am funny; so when I 'gin to talk jist as dough dey was -niggers same as I is, dey straighten 'emselves up and tell me dat I was -a speakin' to a gemman. Wal, says I, haint your faces black as mine? -Niggers aint gemmen, says I, for I thought I'd take dar airs down; but -den, dey spunk up and say dey was not niggers, but colored pussons, and -dey call one anoder Mr. Wal, I t'ought it was quare enoff; and more an' -dat, white folks speak 'spectable to 'em, jist same as dey war white. -Whole lot ob white gemmans come in de barber-shop to be shaved; and den -dey'd pay de barber, and maybe like as not, set down and talk 'long wid -him." - -There is no telling how long the garrulous Nace would have continued the -narration of what he saw in L--, had he not been suddenly interrupted -by the entrance of Miss Tildy, inquiring for Amy. - -Instantly all of them assumed that cheerful, smiling, sycophantic -manner, which is well known to all who have ever looked in at the -kitchen of a slaveholder. Amy stood out from the group to answer Miss -Tildy's summons. I shall never forget the expression of subdued misery -that was limned upon her face. - -"Come in the house and account for the loss of those forks," said Miss -Tildy, in the most peremptory manner. - -Amy made no reply to this; but followed the lady into the house. There -she was court-marshalled, and of course, found guilty of a high -misdemeanor. - -"Wal," said Mr. Peterkin, "we'll see if the 'post' can't draw from you -whar you've put 'em. Come with me." - -With a face the picture of despair, she followed. - -Upon reaching the post, she was fastened to it by the wrist and ankle -fetters; and Mr. Peterkin, foaming with rage, dipped his cowhide in the -strongest brine that could be made, and drawing it up with a flourish, -let it descend upon her uncovered back with a lacerating stroke. -Heavens! what a shriek she gave! Another blow, another and a deeper -stripe, and cry after cry came from the hapless victim! - -"Whar is the forks?" thundered Mr. Peterkin, "tell me, or I'll have the -worth out of yer cussed hide." - -"Indeed, indeed, Masser, I doesn't know." - -"You are a liar," and another and a severer blow. - -"Whar is they?" - -"I give 'em to Miss Jane, Masser, indeed I did." - -"Take that, you liar," and again he struck her, and thus he continued -until he had to stop from exhaustion. There she stood, partially naked, -bleeding at every wound, yet none of us dared go near and offer her even -a glass of cold water. - -"Has she told where they are?" asked Miss Tildy. - -"No, she says she give 'em to you." - -"Well, she tells an infamous lie; and I hope you will beat her until -pain forces her to acknowledge what she has done with them." - -"Oh, I'll git it out of her yet, and by blood, too." - -"Yes, father, Amy needs a good whipping," said Miss Jane, "for she has -been sulky ever since we took her in the house. Two or three times I've -thought of asking you to have her taken to the post." - -"Yes, I've noticed that she's give herself a good many ars. It does me -rale good to take 'em out of her." - -"Yes, father, you are a real negro-breaker. They don't dare behave badly -where you are." - -This, Mr. Peterkin regarded as high praise; for, whenever he related the -good qualities of a favorite friend, he invariably mentioned that he was -a "tight master;" so he smiled at his daughter's compliment. - -"Yes," said Miss Tildy, "whenever father approaches, the darkies should -set up the tune, 'See the conquering hero comes.'" - -"Good, first-rate, Tildy," replied Miss Jane. - -"'Till is a wit." - -"Yes, you are both high-larn't gals, a-head of yer pappy." - -"Oh, father, please don't speak in that way." - -"It was the fashion when I was edicated." - -"Just listen," they both exclaimed. - -"Jake," called out Mr. Peterkin, whose wrath was getting excited by the -criticisms of his daughters, "go and bring Amy here." - -In a few moments Jake returned, accompanied by Amy. The blood was oozing -through the body and sleeves of the frock that she had hastily thrown -on. - -"Whar's the spoons?" thundered out Mr. Peterkin. - -"I give 'em to Miss Tildy." - -"You are a liar," said Miss Tildy, as she dashed up to her, and struck -her a severe blow on the temple with a heated poker. Amy dared not parry -the blow; but, as she received it, she fell fainting to the floor. Mr. -Peterkin ordered Jake to take her out of their presence. - -She was taken to the cabin and left lying on the floor. When I went in -to see her, a horrid spectacle met my view! There she lay stretched upon -the floor, blood oozing from her whole body. I washed it off nicely and -greased her wounds, as poor Aunt Polly had once done for me; but these -attentions had to be rendered in a very secret manner. It would have -been called treason, and punished as such, if I had been discovered. - -I had scarcely got her cleansed, and her wounds dressed, before she was -sent for again. - -"Now," said Miss Tildy, "if you will tell me what you did with the -forks, I will excuse you; but, if you dare to say you don't know, I'll -beat you to death with this," and she held up a bunch of briery -switches, that she had tied together. Now only imagine briars digging -and scraping that already lacerated flesh, and you will not blame the -equivocation to which the poor wretch was driven. - -"Where are they?" asked Miss Jane, and her face was frightful as the -Medusa's. - -"I hid 'em under a barrel out in the back yard." - -"Well, go and get them." - -"Stay," said Miss Jane, "I'll go with you, and see if they are there." - -Accordingly she went off with her, but they were not there. - -"Now, where are they, _liar_?" she asked. - -"Oh, Miss Jane, I put 'em here; but I 'spect somebody's done stole 'em." - -"No, you never put them there," said Miss Tildy. "Now tell me where they -are, or I'll give you this with a vengeance," and she shook the briers. - -"I put 'em in my box in the cabin." - -And thither they went to look for them. Not finding them there, the -tortured girl then named some other place, but with as little success -they looked elsewhere. - -"Now," said Miss Tildy, "I have done all that the most humane or just -could demand; and I find that nothing but a touch of this can get the -truth from you, so come with me." She took her to the "lock-up," and -secured the door within. Such screams as issued thence, I pray heaven I -may never hear again. It seemed as if a fury's strength endowed Miss -Tildy's arm. - -When she came out she was pale from fatigue. - -"I've beaten that girl till I've no strength in me, and she has less -life in her; yet she will not say what she did with the forks." - -"I'll go in and see if I can't get it out of her," said Miss Jane. - -"Wait awhile, Jane, maybe she will, after a little reflection, agree to -tell the truth about it." - -"Never," said Miss Jane, "a nigger will never tell the truth till it is -beat out of her." So saying she took the key from Miss Tildy, and bade -me follow her. I had rather she had told me to hang myself. - -When she unlocked the door, I dared not look in. My eyes were riveted to -the ground until I heard Miss Jane say: - -"Get up, you hussy." - -There, lying on the ground, more like a heap of clotted gore than a -human being, I beheld the miserable Amy. - -"Why don't she get up?" inquired Miss Jane. I did not reply. Taking the -cowhide, she gave her a severe lick, and the wretch cried out, "Oh, -Lord!" - -"The Lord won't hear a liar," said Miss Jane. - -"Oh, what will 'come of me?" - -"_Death_, if you don't confess what you did with the forks." - -"Oh God, hab mercy! Miss Jane, please don't beat me any more. My poor -back is so sore. It aches and smarts dreadful," and she lifted up her -face, which was one mass of raw flesh; and wiping or trying to wipe the -blood away from her eyes with a piece of her sleeve that had been cut -from her body, she besought Miss Jane to have mercy on her; but the -spirit of her father was too strongly inherited for Jane Peterkin to -know aught of human pity. - -"Where are the forks?" - -"Oh, law! oh, law!" Amy cried out, "I swar I doesn't know anything 'bout -'em." - -Such blows as followed I have not the heart to describe; for they -descended upon flesh already horribly mangled. - -The poor girl looked up to me, crying out: - -"Oh, Ann, beg for me." - -"Miss Jane," I ventured to say; but the tigress turned and struck me -such a blow across the face, that I was blinded for full five minutes. - -"There, take that! you impudent hussy. Do you dare to ask me not to -punish a thief?" - -I made no reply, but withdrew from her presence to cleanse my face from -the blood that was flowing from the wound. - -As I bathed my face and bound it up, I wondered if acts such as these -had ever been reported to those clergymen, who so stoutly maintain that -slavery is just, right, _and almost_ available unto salvation. I cannot -think that they do understand it in all its direful wrongs. They look -upon the institution, doubtless, as one of domestic servitude, where a -strong attachment exists between the slave and his owner; but, alas! all -that is generally fabulous, worse than fictitious. I can fearlessly -assert that I never knew a single case, where this sort of feeling was -cherished. The very nature of slavery precludes the existence of such a -feeling. Read the legal definition of it as contained in the statute -books of Kentucky and Virginia, and how, I ask you, can there be, on the -slave's part, a love for his owner? Oh, no, that is the strangest -resort, the fag-end of argument; that most transparent fiction. Love, -indeed! The slave-master love his slave! Did Cain love Abel? Did Herod -love those innocents, whom, by a bloody edict, he consigned to death? In -the same category of lovers will we place the slave-owner. - -When Miss Jane had beaten Amy until _she_ was satisfied, she came, with -a face blazing, like Mars, from the "lock-up." - -"Well, she confesses now, that she put the forks under the corner of a -log, near the poultry coop." - -"Its only another one of her lies," replied Miss Tildy. - -"Well, if it is, I'll beat her until she tells the truth, or I'll kill -her." - -So saying, she started off to examine the spot. I felt that this was but -another subterfuge, devised by the poor wretch to gain a few moments' -respite. - -The examination proved, as I had anticipated, a failure. - -"What's to be done?" inquired Miss Tildy. - -"Leave her a few moments longer to herself, and then if the truth is not -obtained from her, kill her." These words came hissing though her -clenched teeth. - -"It won't do to kill her," said Miss Tildy. - -"I don't care much if I do." - -"We would be tried for murder." - -"Who would be our accusers? Who the witnesses? You forget that Jones is -not here to testify." - -"Ah, and so we are safe." - -"Oh, I never premeditate anything without counting the cost." - -"But then the loss of property!" - -"I'd rather gratify my revenge than have five hundred dollars, which -would be her highest market value." - -Tell me, honest reader, was not she, at heart, a murderess? Did she not -plan and premeditate the deed? Who were her accusers? That God whose -first law she had outraged; that same God who asked Cain for his slain -brother. - -"Now," said Miss Jane, after she had given the poor creature only a few -moments relief, "now let me go and see what that wretch has to say about -the forks." - -"More lies," added Miss Tildy. - -"Then her fate is sealed," said the human hyena. - -Turning to me, she added, in the most authoritative manner, - -"Come with me, and mind that you obey me; none of your impertinent -tears, or I'll give you this." - -And she struck me a lick across the shoulders. I can assure you I felt -but little inclination to do anything whereby such a penalty might be -incurred. Taking the key of the "lock up" from her pocket, she ordered -me to open the door. With a trembling hand I obeyed. Slowly the old, -rusty-hinged door swung open, and oh, heavens! what a sight it revealed! -There, in the centre of the dismal room, suspended from a spoke, about -three feet from the ground, was the body of Amy! Driven by desperation, -goaded to frenzy, she had actually hung herself! Oh, God! that fearful -sight is burnt in on my brain, with a power that no wave of Lethe can -ever wash out! There, covered with clotted blood, bruised and mangled, -hung the wretched girl! There, a bleeding, broken monument of the white -man's and white woman's cruelty! God of my sires! is there for us no -redress? And Miss Jane--what did she do? Why, she screamed, and almost -swooned with fright! Ay, too late it was to rend the welkin with her -cries of distress. She had done the deed! Upon her head rested the sin -of that freshly-shed blood! She was the real murderess. Oh, frightful -shall be her nights! Peopled with racks, execution-blocks, and ghastly -gallows-poles, shall be her dreams! At the lone hour of midnight, a wan -and bloody corse shall glide around her bed-side, and shriek into her -trembling ear the horrid word "murderess!" Let me still remain in -bondage, call me still by the ignoble title of slave, but leave me the -unbought and priceless inheritance of a stainless conscience. I am free -of murder before God and man. Still riot in your wealth; still batten on -inhumanity, women of the white complexion, but of the black hearts! I -envy you not. Still let me rejoice in a darker face, but a snowy, -self-approving conscience. - -Miss Jane's screams brought Mr. Peterkin, Miss Tildy and the servants to -her side. There, in front of the open door of the lock-up, they stood, -gazing upon that revolting spectacle! No word was spoken. Each regarded -the others in awe. At length, Mr. Peterkin, whose heartlessness was -equal to any emergency, spoke to Jake: - -"Cut down that body, and bury it instantly." - -With this, they all turned away from the tragical spot; but I, though -physically weak of nerve, still remained. That poor, bereaved girl had -been an object of interest to me; and I could not now leave her -distorted and lifeless body. Cold-hearted ones were around her; no -friendly eye looked upon her mangled corse, and I shuddered when I saw -Jake and Dan rudely handle the body upon which death had set its sacred -seal. - - - "One more unfortunate, - Weary of breath; - Rashly importunate, - Gone to her death. - - * * * * * - Swift to be hurled, - Anywhere, anywhere, - Out of the world." - - -This I felt had been her history! This should have been her epitaph; -but, alas for her, there would be reared no recording stone. All that -she had achieved in life was the few inches of ground wherein they laid -her, and the shovel full of dirt with which they covered her. Poor -thing! I was not allowed to dress the body for the grave. Hurriedly they -dug a hole and tossed her in. I was the only one who consecrated the -obsequies with funeral tears. A coarse joy and ribald jests rang from -the lips of the grave-diggers; but I was there to weep and water the -spot with tributary tears. - - - "Perishing gloomily, - Spurred by contumely, - Cold inhumanity, - Burning insanity, - Into her rest, - Cross her hands humbly, - As if praying dumbly, - Over her breast." - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. - -CONVERSATION OF THE FATHER AND SON--THE DISCOVERY; ITS -CONSEQUENCES--DEATH OF THE YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL. - - -Very lonely to me were the nights that succeeded Amy's death. I spent -them alone in the cabin. A strange kind of superstition took possession -of me! The room was peopled with unearthly guests. I buried my face in -the bed-covering, as if that could protect me or exclude supernatural -visitors. For two weeks I scarcely slept at all; and my constitution had -begun to sink under the over-taxation. This was all the worse, as Amy's -death entailed upon me a double portion of work. - -"What!" said Mr. Peterkin to me, one day, "are you agoin to die, too, -Ann? Any time you gits in the notion, jist let me know, and I'll give -you rope enough to do it." - -In this taunting way he frequently alluded to that fatal tragedy which -should have bowed his head with shame and remorse. - -Young master had returned, but not at all benefited by his trip. A deep -carnation was burnt into his shrivelled cheek, and he walked with a -feeble, tottering step. The least physical exertion would bring on a -violent paroxysm of coughing. The unnatural glitter of his eye, with its -purple surroundings, gave me great uneasiness; but he was the same -gentle, kind-spoken young master that he had ever been. His glossy, -golden hair had a dead, dry appearance; whilst his chest was fearfully -sunken; yet his father refused to believe that all these marks were the -heralds of the great enemy's approach. - -"The spring will cure you, my boy." - -"No, father, the spring is coming fast; but long before its flowers -begin to scent the vernal gales, I shall have passed through the narrow -gateway of the tomb." - -"No, it shall not be. All my money shall go to save you." - -"I am purchased, father, with a richer price than gold; the inestimable -blood of the Lamb has long since paid my ransom; I go to my father in -heaven." - -"Oh, my son! you want to go; you want to leave me. You do not love your -father." - -"Yes, I do love you, father, very dearly; and I would that you were -going with me to that lovely land." - -"I shill never go thar." - -"'Tis that fear that is killing me, father." - -"What could I, now, do to be saved?" - -"Believe in the Lord Jesus, and be baptized." - -"Is that all?" - -"Yes, that is all; but it embraces a good deal, dear father; a good deal -more than most persons deserve. In order to a perfect belief in the Lord -Jesus, you must act consistently with that belief. You must deal justly. -Abundantly give to the poor, and, above all, you must love mercy, and do -mercifully to all. Now I approach the great subject upon which I fear -you will stumble. You must," and he pronounced the words very slowly, -"liberate your slaves." There was a fair gleam from his eyes when he -said this. - -Mr. Peterkin turned uneasily in his chair. He did not wish to encourage -a conversation upon this subject. - -One evening, when it had been raining for two or three days, and the -damp condition of the atmosphere had greatly increased young master's -complaint, he called me to his bedside. - -"Ann," he said, in that deep, sepulchral tone, "I wish to ask you a -question, and I urge you not to deceive me. Remember I am dying, and it -will be a great crime to tell me a falsehood." - -I assured him that I would answer him with a faithful regard to truth. - -"Then tell me what occasioned Amy's death? Did she come to it by -violence?" - -I shall never forget the deep, penetrating glance that he fixed upon -me. It was an inquiry that went to my soul. I could not have answered -him falsely. - -Calmly, quietly, and without exaggeration, I told him all the -circumstances of her death. - -"Murder!" he exclaimed, "murder, foul and most unnatural!" - -I saw him wipe the tears from his hollow eyes, and that sunken chest -heaved with vivid emotion. - -Mr. Peterkin came in, and was much surprised to find young master so -excited. - -"What is the matter, my boy?" - -"The same old trouble, father, these unfortunate negroes." - -"Hang 'em; let them go to the d--l, at once. They are not worth all this -consarn on your part." - -"Father, they possess immortal souls, and are a part of Christ's -purchase." - -"Oh, that kind of talk does very well for preachers and church members." - -"It should do for all humanity." - -"I doesn't know what pity means whar a nigger is consarned." - -"And 'tis this feeling in you that has cost me my life." - -"Confound thar black hides. Every one of 'em that ever growed in Afriky -isn't worth that price." - -"Their souls are as precious in God's eyes as ours, and the laws of man -should recognize their lives as valuable." - -"Oh, now, my boy! don't talk any more 'bout it. It only 'stresses you -for nothing." - -"No, it distresses me for a great deal. For the value of -Christ-purchased souls." - -Mr. Peterkin concluded the argument as he usually did, when it reached a -knotty point, by leaving. All that evening I noticed that young master -was unusually restless and feverish. His mournful eyes would follow me -withersoever I moved about the room. From the constant and earnest -movement of his lips, I knew that he was engaged in prayer. - -When Miss Bradly came in and looked at him, I thought, from the -frightened expression of her face, that she detected some alarming -symptoms. This apprehension was confirmed by the manner of Dr. Mandy. -All the rest of the evening I wandered near Miss Bradly and the doctor, -trying to catch, from their conversation, what they thought of young -master's condition; but they were very guarded in what they said, well -knowing how acutely sensitive Mr. Peterkin was on the subject. Miss Jane -and Miss Tildy did not appear in the least anxious or uneasy about him. -They sewed away upon their silks and laces, never once thinking that the -angel of death was hovering over their household and about to snatch -from their embrace one of their most cherished idols. Verily, oh, Death, -thou art like a thief in the night; with thy still, feline tread, thou -enterest our chambers and stealest our very breath away without one -admonition of thy coming! - -But not so came he to young master. As a small-voiced angel, with -blessings concealed beneath his shadowy wing, he came, the herald of -better days to him! As a well-loved bridegroom to a waiting bride, was -the angel of the tombs to that expectant spirit! 'Twas painful, yet -pleasant, to watch with what patient courage he endured bodily pain. -Often, unnoticed by him, did I watch, with a terrible fascination, the -heroic struggle with which he wrestled with suffering and disease. Sad -and piteous were the shades and inflections of severe agony that passed -over his noble face! I recall now with sorrow, the memory of that time! -How well, in fancy, can I see him, as he lay upon that downy bed, with -his beautiful gold hair thrown far back from his sunken temples, his -blue, upturned eyes, fringed by their lashes of fretted gold, and those -pale, thin hands that toyed so fitfully with the drapery of the couch, -and the restless, loving look which he so frequently cast upon each of -the dear ones who drew around him. It must be that the "sun-set of life" -gives us a keener, quicker sense, else why do we love the more fondly as -the curtain of eternity begins to descend upon us? Surely, there must be -a deeper, undeveloped sense lying beneath the surface of general -feeling, which only the tightening of life's cords can reveal! He grew -gentler, if possible, as his death approached. Very heavenly seemed he -in those last, most trying moments! All that had ever been earthly of -him, began to recede; the fleshly taints (if there were any) grew -fainter and fainter, and the glorious spiritual predominated! Angel more -than mortal, seemed he. The lessons which his life taught me have sunk -deep in my nature; and I can well say, "it was good for him to have been -here." - -It was a few weeks after the death of Amy, when Miss Tildy was -overlooking the bureau that contained the silver and glass ware, she -gave a sudden exclamation, that, without knowing why, startled me very -strangely. A thrill passed over my frame, an icy contraction of the -nerves, and I knew that something awful was about to be revealed. - -"What _is_ the matter with you?" asked Miss Jane. - -Still she made no reply, but buried her face in her hands, and remained -thus for several minutes; when she did look up, I saw that something -terrible was working in her breast. "Culprit," was written all over her -face. It was visible in the downcast terror of her eye, and in the -blanched contraction of the lips, and quivered in the dilating nostril, -and was stamped upon the whitening brow! - -"What ails you, Tildy?" again inquired her sister. - -"_Why, look here!_" and she held up, to my terror, the two missing -forks! - -Oh, heavens! and for her own carelessness and mistake had Amy been -sacrificed? I make no comment. I merely state the case, and leave others -to draw their own conclusions. Yet, this much I will add, that there -were no Caucasian witnesses to the bloody deed, therefore no legal -cognizance could be taken of it! Most noble and righteous American laws! -Who that lives beneath your shelter, would dare to say they are not wise -and sacred as the laws of the Decalogue? Thrice a day should their -authors go up into the Temple, and thank our Lord that they are not like -publicans and sinners. - -One evening--oh! I shall long remember it, as one full of sacredness, -full of sorrow, and yet tinged with a hue of heaven! It was in the deep, -delicious beauty of the flowering month of May. The twilight was -unusually red and refulgent. The evening star shone like the full eye of -love upon the dreamy earth! The flowers, each with a dew-pearl -glittering on its petals, lay lulled by the calm of the hour. Young -master, fair saint, lay on his bed near the open window, through which -the scented gales stole sweetly, and fanned his wasted cheek! Thick and -hard came his breath, and we, who stood around him, could almost see the -presence of the "monster grim," whose skeleton arms were fast locking -him about! - -Flitting round the bed, like a guardian spirit, was Miss Bradly, whilst -her tearful eye never wandered for an instant from that face now growing -rigid with the kiss of death! Miss Jane stood at the head of the bed -wiping the cold damps from his brow, and Miss Tildy was striving to -impart some of her animal warmth to his icy feet. Mr. Peterkin sat with -one of those thin hands grasped within his own, as if disputing and -defying the advance of that enemy whom no man is strong enough to -baffle. - -Slowly the invalid turned upon his couch, and, looking out upon the -setting sun, he heaved a deep sigh. - -"Father," he said, as he again turned his face toward Mr. Peterkin, who -still clasped his hand, "do you not know from my failing pulse, that my -life is almost spent?" - -"Oh, my boy, it is too, too hard to give you up." - -"Yet you _must_ nerve yourself for it. - -"I have no nerve to meet this trouble." - -"Go to God, He will give you ease." - -"I want Him to give me you." - -"Me He lent you for a little while. Now He demands me at your hands, and -His requisition you must obey." - -"Oh, I won't give up; maybe you'll yet be spared to me." - -"No, God's decree it is, that I should go." - -"It cannot, shall not be." - -"Father, father, you do but blaspheme." - -"I will do anything rather than see you die." - -"I am willing to die. I have only one request to make of you. Will you -grant it? If you refuse me, I shall die wretched and unhappy." - -"I will promise you anything." - -"But will you keep your promise?" - -"Yes, my boy." - -"Do you promise most faithfully?" - -"I do." - -"Then promise me that you will instantly manumit your slaves." - -Mr. Peterkin hesitated a moment. - -"Father, I shall not die happy, if you refuse me." - -"Then I promise faithfully to do it." - -A glad smile broke over the sufferer's face, like a sunbeam over a -snow-cloud. - -"Now, at least I can die contentedly! God will bless your effort, and a -great weight has been removed from my oppressed heart." - -Dr. Mandy now entered the room; and, taking young master's hand within -his own, began to count the pulsations. A very ominous change passed -over his face. - -"Oh, doctor," cried the patient, "I read from your countenance the -thoughts that agitate your mind; but do not fear to make the disclosure -to my friends even here. It will do me no harm. I know that my hours are -numbered; but I am willing, nay, anxious to go. Life has been one round -of pain, and now, as I am about to leave the world, I take with me a -blessed assurance that I have not lived in vain. Doctor, I call upon -you, and all the dear ones here present, to witness the fact that my -father has most solemnly promised me to liberate each of his slaves and -never again become the holder of such property? Father, do you not -promise before these witnesses?" - -"I do, my child, I do," said the weeping father. - -"Sisters," continued young master, "will you promise to urge or offer -no objection to the furtherance of this sacred wish of your dying -brother?" - -"I do," "I do," they simultaneously exclaimed. - -"And neither of you will ever become the owner of slaves?" - -"Never," "never," was the stifled reply. - -"Come, now, Death, for I am ready for thee!" - -"You have exerted yourself too much already," said the doctor, "now pray -take this cordial and try to rest; you have overtaxed your power. Your -strength is waning fast." - -"No, doctor, I cannot be silent; whilst I've the strength, pray let me -talk. I wish this death-bed to be an example. Call in the servants. Let -me speak with them. I wish to devote my power, all that is left of me -now, to them." - -To this Mr. Peterkin and the doctor objected, alleging that his life -required quiet. - -"Do not think of me, kind friends, I shall soon be safe, and am now -well-cared for. If I did not relieve myself by speech, the anxiety would -kill me. As a kind favor, I beg that you will not interrupt me. Call the -good servants." - -Instantly they all, headed by Nace, came into the chamber, each weeping -bitterly. - -"Good friends," he began, and now I noticed that his voice was weak and -trembling, "I am about to leave you. On earth you will never see me -again; but there is a better world, where I trust to meet you all. You -have been faithful and attentive to me. I thank you from the bottom of -my soul for it, and, if ever I have been harsh or unkind to you in any -way, I now beg that you will forgive me. Do not weep," he continued, as -their loud sobs began to drown his feeble voice. "Do not weep, I am -going to a happy home, where trouble and pain will never harm me more. -Now let me tell you, that my father has promised me that each of you -shall be free immediately after my death." - -This announcement was like a panic to the poor, broken-spirited -wretches. They looked wonderingly at young master, and then at each -other, never uttering a word. - -"Come, do not look so bewildered. Ah, you do not believe me; but, good -as is this news, it is true; is it not, father?" - -"Yes, my son, it is true." - -When Mr. Peterkin spoke, they simultaneously started. That voice had -power to recall them from the wildest dream of romance. Though softened -by sorrow and suffering, there was still enough of the wonted harshness -to make those poor wretches know it was Mr. Peterkin who spoke, and they -quaked with fear. - -"In the new home and new position in life, which you will take, my -friends, I hope you will not forget me; but, above all things, try to -save your souls. Go to church; pray much and often. Place yourselves -under God's protection, and all will be right. You, Jake, had better -select as an occupation that of a farmer, or manager of a farm for some -one of those wealthy but humane men of the Northern States. You, Dan, -can make an excellent dray driver; and at that business, in some of the -Northern cities, you would make money. Sally can get a situation as -cook; and Ann, where is Ann?" he said, as he looked around. - -I stepped out from a retired corner of the room, into which I had shrunk -for the purpose of indulging my grief unobserved. - -"Don't weep, Ann," he began; "you distress me when you do so. You ought, -rather, to rejoice, because I shall so soon be set free from this -unhappy condition. If you love me, prepare to meet me in heaven. This -earth is not our home; 'tis but a transient abiding-place, and, to one -of my sensitive temperament, it has been none the happiest. I am glad -that I am going; yet a few pangs I feel, in bidding you farewell; but -think of me only as one gone upon a pleasant journey from snow-clad -regions to a land smiling with tropic beauty, rich in summer bloom and -vocal with the melody of southern birds! Think of me as one who has -exchanged the garments of a beggar for the crown of a king and the -singing-robes of a prophet. I hope you will do well in life, and I would -advise that you improve your education, and then become a teacher. You -are fitted for that position. You could fill it with dignity. Do all -you can to elevate the mind as well as manners of your most unfortunate -race. And now, poor old Nace, what pursuit must I recommend to you?" -After a moment's pause, he added with a smile, "I will point out none; -for you are Yankee enough, Nace, to get along anywhere." - -He then requested that we should all kneel, whilst he besought for us -and himself the blessings of Divine grace. - -I can never forget the words of that beautiful prayer. How like fairy -pearls they fell from his lips! And I do not think there was a single -heart present that did not send out a fervent response! It seemed as if -his whole soul were thrown into that one burning appeal to heaven. His -mellow eyes grew purple in their intense passionateness; his pale lip -quivered; and the throbbing veins, that wandered so blue and beautifully -through his temples, were swollen with the rapid tide of emotion. - -As we rose from our knees, he elevated himself upon his elbow, and -looking earnestly at each one of us, said solemnly, - -"God bless all of you!" then sank back upon the pillow; a bright smile -flitted over his face, and he held his hand out to Miss Bradly, who -clasped it lovingly. - -"Good-bye, kind friend," he murmured, "never forsake the noble -Anti-slavery cause. Cling to it as a rock and anchor of safety. -Good-bye, and God bless you." - -He then gave his other hand to Dr. Mandy, but, in attempting to speak, -he was checked by a violent attack of coughing, and blood gushed from -his mouth. The doctor endeavored to arrest the flow, but in vain; the -crimson tide, like a stream broken loose from its barrier, flowed with a -stifling rush. - -Soon we discovered, from the ghastly whiteness of the patient's face, -and the calm, set stare of the eyes, that his life was almost gone. Oh, -God! how hard, pinched and contracted appeared those once beauteous -features! How terrible was the blank fixedness of those blue orbs! No -motion of the hand could distract their look. - -"Heavens!" cried Miss Jane, "his eyes are set!" - -"No, no," exclaimed Mr. Peterkin, and with many gestures, he attempted -to draw the staring eyes away from the object upon which they were -fastened; but vain were all his endeavors. He had no power to call back -a parting spirit; he, who had sent others to an unblest grave, could not -now breathe fresh vigor into a frame over which Death held his skeleton -arm. Where was Remorse, the unsleeping fiend, in that moment? - -I was looking earnestly at young master's face, when the great change -passed over it. I saw Dr. Mandy slowly press down the marble eye-lids -and gently straighten the rigid limbs; then, very softly turning to the -friends, whose faces were hidden by their clasped hands, he murmured, - -"All is over!" - -Great heaven! what screams burst from the afflicted family. - -Mr. Peterkin was crazy. His grief knew no bounds! He raved, he tore his -hair, he struck his breast violently, and then blasphemed. He did -everything but pray. And that was a thing so unfamiliar to him, that he -did not know how to do it. Miss Jane swooned, whilst Miss Tildy raved -out against the injustice of Providence in taking her brother from her. - -Miss Bradly and I laid the body out, dressed it in a suit of pure white, -and filletted his golden curls with a band of white rose-buds. Like a -gentle infant resting in its first, deep sleep, lay he there! - -After spreading the snowy drapery over the body, Miss Bradly covered all -the furniture with white napkins, giving to the room the appearance of a -death-like chill. There were no warm, rosy, life-like tints. Upon -entering it, the very heart grew icy and still. The family, one by one, -retired to their own apartments for the indulgence of private and sacred -grief! - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - -THE FUNERAL--MISS BRADLY'S DEPARTURE--THE DISPUTE--SPIRIT QUESTIONS. - - -When I entered the kitchen, I found the servants still weeping -violently. - -"Poor soul," said Sally, "he's at rest now. If he hain't gone to heaven, -'taint no use of havin' any; fur he war de best critter I iver seed. He -never gived me a cross word in all his life-time. Oh, Lord, he am gone -now!" - -"I 'members de time, when Mister Jones whipt me, dat young masser comed -to me wid some grease and rubbed me all over, and talked so kind to me. -Den he tell me not to say nothin' 'bout it, and I niver did mention it -from dat day until dis." - -"Wal, he was mighty good," added Jake, "and I's sorry he's dead." - -"I'se glad he got us our freedom afore he died. I wonder if we'll git -it?" asked Nace, who was always intent upon selfishness. - -"Laws! didn't he promise? Den he mus' keep his word," added Jake. - -I made no comment. My thoughts upon the subject I kept locked in the -depths of my own bosom. I knew then, as now, that natures like Mr. -Peterkin's could be changed only by the interposition of a miracle. He -had now shrunk beneath the power of a sudden blow of misfortune; but -this would soon pass away, and the savage nature would re-assert itself. - -All that gloomy night, I watched with Miss Bradly and Dr. Mandy beside -the corpse. Often whilst the others dozed, would I steal to the bed and -turn down the covering, to gaze upon that still pale face! Reverently I -placed my hand upon that rich golden head, with its band of flowers. - -There is an angel-like calm in the repose of death; a subdued awe that -impresses the coldest and most unbelieving hearts! As I looked at that -still body, which had so lately been illumined by a radiant soul, and -saw the noble look which the face yet wore, I inwardly exclaimed, 'Tis -well for those who sleep in the Lord! - -All that long night I watched and waited, hoped and prayed. The deep, -mysterious midnight passed, with all its fearful power of passion and -mystery; the still, small hours glided on as with silver slippers, and -then came the purple glory of a spring dawn! I left the chamber of -death, and went out to muse in the hazy day-break. And, as I there -reflected, my soul grew sick and sore afraid. One by one my friends had -been falling around me, and now I stood alone. There was no kind voice -to cheer me on; no gentle, loving hand stretched forth to aid me; no -smile of friendship to encourage me. In the thickest of the fight, -unbucklered, I must go. Up the weary, craggy mountain I must climb. The -burning sands I must tread alone! What wonder that my spirit, weak and -womanly, trembled and turned away, asking for the removal of the cup of -life! Only the slave can comprehend the amount of agony that I endured. -He alone who clanks the chain of African bondage, can know what a cloud -of sorrow swept over my heart. - -I saw the great sun rise, like a blood-stained gladiator, in the East, -and the diamond dew that glittered in his early light. I saw the roses -unclose fragrantly to his warming call; yet my heart was chill. Through -the flower-decked grounds I walked, and the aroma of rarest blooms -filled my senses with delight, yet woke no answering thrill in my bosom. -Must it not be wretchedness indeed, when the heart refuses to look -around upon blooming, vernal Nature, and answer her with a smile of -freshness? - -A little after daylight I re-entered the house, and found Miss Bradly -dozing in a large arm-chair, with one hand thrown upon the cover of the -bed where lay young master's body. Dr. Mandy was outstretched upon the -lounge in a profound sleep. The long candles had burnt very low in the -sockets, and every now and then sent up that flicker, which has been so -often likened to the struggles of expiring humanity. I extinguished -them, and closed the shutters, to exclude the morning rays that would -else have stolen in to mar the rest of those who needed sleep. Then -returning to the yard, I culled a fresh bouquet and placed it upon the -breast of the dead. Gently touching Miss Bradly, I roused her and begged -that she would seek some more comfortable quarters, whilst I watched -with the body. She did so, having first imprinted a kiss upon the brow -of the heavenly sleeper. - -When she withdrew, I took from my apron a bundle of freshly-gathered -flowers, and set about weaving fairy chains and garlands, which I -scattered in fantastic profusion over and around the body. - -A beautiful custom is it to decorate the dead with fresh flowers! There -is something in the delicate, fairy-like perfume, and in the magical -shadings and formation of flowers, that make them appropriate offerings -to the dead. Strange mystical things that they are, seemingly instinct -with a new and inchoate life; breathing in their heavenly fragrance of a -hidden blessing, telling a story which our dull ears of clay can never -comprehend. Symbols of diviner being, expressions of quickening beauty, -we understand ye not. We only _feel_ that ye are God's richest blessing -to us, therefore we offer ye to our loved and holy dead! - -When the broad daylight began to beam in through the crevices of the -shutters, and noise of busy life sounded from without, the family rose. -Separately they entered the room, each turning down the spread, and -gazing tearfully upon the ghastly face. Often and often they kissed the -brow, cheek, and lips. - -"How lovely he was in life," said Miss Jane. - -"Indeed he was, and he is now an angel," replied Miss Tildy, with a -fresh gush of emotion. - -"My poor, poor boy," said Mr. Peterkin, as he sank down on the bed -beside the body; "how proud I was of him. I allers knowed he'd be tuck -'way from me. He was too putty an' smart an' good fur this world. My -heart wus so sot on him! yit sometimes he almost run me crazy. I don't -think it was just in Providence to take my only boy. I could have better -spared one of the gals. Oh, tain't right, no how it can be fixed." - -And thus he rambled on, perfectly unconscious of the bold blasphemy -which he was uttering with every breath he drew. To impugn the justice -of his Maker's decrees was a common practice with him. He had so long -rejoiced in power, and witnessed the uncomplaining vassalage of slaves, -that he began to regard himself as the very highest constituted -authority! This is but one of the corrupting influences of the -slave-system. - -That long, wearing day, with its weight of speechless grief, passed at -last. The neighbors came and went. Each praised the beauty of the -corpse, and inquired who had dressed it. At length the day closed, and -was succeeded by a lovely twilight. Another night, with its star-fretted -canopy, its queenly, slow-moving moon, its soft aromatic air and pearly -dew. And another gray, hazy day-break, yet still, as before, I watched -near the dead. But on the afternoon of this day, there came a long, -black coffin, with its silver plate and mountings; its interior -trimmings of white satin and border of lace, and within this they laid -the form of young master! His pale, fair hands were crossed prayerfully -upon his breast; and a fillet of fresh white buds bound his smooth brow, -whilst a large bouquet lay on his breast, and the wreaths I had woven -were thrown round him and over his feet. Then the lid was placed on and -tightly screwed down. Then came the friends and neighbors, and a good -man who read the Bible and preached a soothing and ennobling sermon. The -friends gave one more look, another, a longer and more clinging kiss, -then all was over. The slow procession followed after the vehicle that -carried the coffin, the servants walking behind. Poor, uncared-for -slaves, as we were, we paid a heart-felt tribute to his memory, and -watered his new-made grave with as sincere tears as ever flowed from -eyes that had looked on happier times. - -I lingered until long after the last shovel-full of dirt was thrown -upon him. Others, even his kindred, had left the spot ere I turned away. -That little narrow grave was dearer and nearer to me, as there it lay so -fresh and damp, shapen smoothly with the sexton's spade, than when, -several weeks after, a patrician obelisk reared its Parian head towards -the blue sky. I have always looked upon grave-monuments as stony -barriers, shutting out the world from the form that slowly moulders -below. When the wild moss and verdant sward alone cover the grave, 'tis -easy for us to imagine death only a sleep; but the grave-stone, with its -carvings and frescoes, seems a sort of prison, cold and grim in its -aristocratic splendor. For the grave of those whom I love, I ask no -other decoration than the redundant grass, the enamelled mosaic of wild -flowers, a stream rolling by with its dirge-like chime, a weeping -willow, and a moaning dove. - -The shades of evening were falling darkly ere I left the burial-ground. -There, amid the graves of his ancestors, beside the tomb of his mother, -I left him sleeping pleasantly. "Life's fitful fever over," his calm -soul rests well. - - * * * * * * * - -In a few weeks after his death, the family settled back to their -original manner of life. Mr. Peterkin grew sulky in his grief. He chewed -and drank incessantly. The remonstrances of his daughters had no effect -upon him. He took no notice of them, seemed almost to ignore their -existence. Feeding sullenly on his own rooted sorrow, he cared nothing -for those around him. - -We, the servants, had been allowed a rather better time; for as he was -entirely occupied with his own moody reflections, he bestowed upon us no -thought. Yet we had heard no word about his compliance with the sacred -promise he had made to the dead. Did he feel no touch of remorse, or was -he so entirely sold to the d--l, as to be incapable of regret? - -The young ladies had been busy making up their mourning, and took but -little notice of domestic affairs. Miss Jane concluded to postpone her -visit to the city, on account of their recent bereavement; but later in -the summer, she proposed going. - -One afternoon, several weeks after the burial of young master, Miss -Bradly came over to see the ladies, for the purpose, as she said, of -bidding them farewell, as early on the following morning she expected to -start North, to rejoin her family, from whom she had been so long -separated. Miss Jane received the announcement with her usual haughty -smile; and Miss Tildy, who was rather more of a hypocrite, expressed -some regret at parting from her old teacher. - -"I fear, dear girls, that you will soon forget me. I hoped that an -intimate friendship had grown up between us, which nothing could -destroy; but it seems as if, in the last half-year, you have ceased to -love me, or care for me." - -"I can only answer for myself, dear Miss Bradly," said Miss Tildy, "and -I shall ever gratefully and fondly remember you, and my interesting -school-days." - -"So shall I pleasantly recollect my school-hours, and Miss Bradly as our -preceptress; and, had she not chosen to express and defend those awfully -disgraceful and incendiary principles of the North, I should have -continued to think of her with pleasure." Miss Jane said this with her -freezing air of hauteur. - -"But I remained silent, dear Jane, for years. I lived in your midst, in -the very families where slave-labor was employed; yet I molested none. I -did not inveigh against your peculiar domestic institution; though, -Heaven knows, every principle of my nature cried out against it. Surely -for all this I deserve some kind consideration." - -"'Tis a great pity your prudence did not hold out to the last; and I can -assure you 'tis well for the safety of your life and person that you -were a woman, else would it have gone hard with you. Kited through the -streets with a coat of tar and a plumage of hen-feathers, you would have -been treated to a rail-ride, none the most complimentary." Here Miss -Jane laughed heartily at the ridiculous picture she had drawn. - -Miss Bradly's face reddened deeply as she replied: - -"And all this would have been inflicted upon me because I dared to have -an opinion upon a subject of vital import to this our proud Republic. -This would have been the gracious hospitality, which, as chivalry-loving -Southerners, you would have shown to a stranger from the North! If this -be your mode and manner of carrying out the Comity of States, I am -heartily glad that I am about returning to the other side of the -border." - -"And we give you joy of your swift return. Pray, tell all your Abolition -friends that such will be their reception, should they dare to venture -among us." - -"Yet, as with tearful eyes you stood round your brother's death-bed, you -solemnly promised him that his dying wish, with regard to the liberation -of your father's slaves, should be carried out, and that you would never -become the owner of such property." - -"Stop! stop!" exclaimed Miss Jane, and her face was livid with rage, -"you have no right to recur to that time. You are inhuman to introduce -it at this moment. Every one of common sense knows that brother was too -young to have formed a correct opinion upon a question of such momentous -value to the entire government; besides, a promise made to the dying is -never binding. Why should it be? We only wished to relieve him from -anxiety. Father would sell every drop of his blood before he would grant -a negro liberty. He is against it in principle. So am I. Negroes were -made to serve the whites; for that purpose only were they created, and I -am not one who is willing to thwart their Maker's wise design." - -Miss Jane imagined she had spoken quite conclusively and displayed a -vast amount of learning. She looked around for admiration and applause, -which was readily given her by her complimentary sister. - -"Ah, Jane, you should have been a man, and practiced law. The courts -would have been the place for the display of your brilliant talents." - -"But the halls of legislation would not, I fear," said Miss Bradly, -"have had the benefit of her wise, just, and philanthropic views." - -"I should never have allowed the Abolitionists their present weight of -influence, whilst the power of speech and the strength of action -remained to me," answered Miss Jane, very tartly. - -"Oh no, doubtless you would have met the Douglas in his hall, and the -lion in his den," laughingly replied Miss Bradly. - -Thus the conversation was carried on, upon no very friendly terms, until -Miss Jane espied me, when she thundered out, - -"Leave the room, Ann, we've no use for negro company here, unless, -indeed, as I think most probable, Miss Bradly came to visit you, in -which case she had better be shown to the kitchen." - -This insult roused Miss Bradly's resentment, and she rose, saying, - -"Young ladies, I came this evening to take a pleasant adieu, little -expecting to meet with such treatment; but be it as you wish; I take my -leave;" and, with a slight inclination of the head, she departed. - -"Oh, she is insulted!" cried Miss Tildy. - -"I don't care if she is, we owe her nothing. For teaching us she was -well paid; now let her take care of herself." - -"I am going after her to say I did not wish to insult her; for really, -notwithstanding her Abolition sentiments, I like her very much, and I -wish her always to like me." - -So she started off and overtook Miss Bradly at the gate. The explanation -was, I presume, accepted, for they parted with kisses and tears. - -That evening, when I was serving the table, Miss Jane reported the -conversation to her father, who applauded her manner of argument -greatly. - -"Set my niggers free, indeed! Catch me doing any such foolish thing. I'd -sooner be shot. Don't you look for anything of the kind, Ann; I'd sooner -put you in my pocket." - -And this was the way he kept a sacred promise to his dead son! But cases -such as this are numerous. The negro is lulled with promises by humane -masters--promises such as those that led the terror-stricken Macbeth on -to his fearful doom. They - - - "Keep the word of promise to the ear, - But break it to the hope." - - -How many of them are trifled with and lured on; buoyed up from year to -year with stories, which those who tell them are resolved shall never be -realized. - -My memory runs back now to some such wretched recollections; and my -heart shrivels and crumbles at the bare thought, like scorched paper. -Oh, where is there to be found injustice like that which the American -slaves daily and hourly endure, without a word of complaint? "We die -daily"--die to love, to hope, to feeling, humanity, and all the high and -noble gifts that make existence something more than a mere breathing -span. We die to all enlargement of mind and expansion of heart. Our -every energy is bound down with many bolts and bars; yet whole folios -have been written by men calling themselves wise, to prove that we are -by far the happiest portion of the population of this broad Union! What -a commentary upon the liberality of free men! - -After the conversation with Miss Bradly, the young ladies began to -resume their old severity, which the death of young master had checked; -but Mr. Peterkin still seemed moody and troubled. He drank to a -frightful excess. It seemed to have increased his moroseness. He slept -sounder at night, and later in the morning, and was swollen and bloated -to almost twice his former dimensions. His face was a dark crimson -purple; he spoke but little, and then never without an oath. His -daughters remarked the change, but sought not to dissuade him. Perhaps -they cared not if his excesses were followed by death. I had long known -that they treated him with respect only out of apprehension that they -would be cut short of patrimonial favors. But the death of young master -had almost certainly insured them against this, and they were unusually -insolent to their father; but this he appeared not to notice; for he -was too sottishly drunk even to heed them. - -The necessity of wearing black, and the custom of remaining away from -places of amusement, had forced Miss Jane to decline, or at least, -postpone her trip to the city. - -I shall ever remember that summer as one of unusual luxuriance. It -seemed to me, that the forests were more redundant of foliage than I had -ever before seen them. The wild flowers were gayer and brighter, and the -sky of a more glorious blue; even the little feathered songsters sang -more deliciously; and oh, the moonlight nights seemed wondrously soft -and silvery, and the hosts of stars seven times multiplied! I began to -live again. Away through the old primeval woods I took occasionally a -stolen ramble! Whole volumes of romance I drained from the ever-affluent -library of Nature. I truly found-- - - - "Tongues in the trees; books, in the running brooks, - Sermons in stones, and good in everything." - - -It is impossible to imagine how much I enjoyed those solitary walks, few -and far between as they were. I used to wonder why the ladies did not -more enjoy the luxury of frequent communion with Nature in her loveliest -haunts! Strange, is it not, how little the privileged class value the -pleasures and benefits by which they are surrounded! I would have given -ten years of my life (though considering my trouble, the sacrifice would -have been small) to be allowed to linger long beside the winding, -murmuring brook, or recline at the fountain, looking far away into the -impenetrable blue above; or to gather wild flowers at will, and toy with -their tiny leaflets! but indulgences such as these would have been -condemned and punished as indolence. - -I cannot now, honestly, recall a single pleasure that was allowed me, -during my long slavery to Mr. Peterkin. Then who can ask me, if I would -not rather go back into bondage than _live_, aye _live_ (that is the -word), with the proud sense of freedom mine? I have often been asked if -the burden of finding food and raiment for myself was not great enough -to make me wish to resign my liberty. No, a thousand times no! Let me go -half-clad, and meanly fed, but still give me the custody of my own -person, without a master to spy into and question out my up-risings and -down-sittings, and confine me like a leashed hound! Slavery in its -mildest phases (of which I have _only_ heard, for I've always seen it in -its darker terrors) must be unhappy. The very knowledge that you have no -control over yourself, that you are subject to the will, even whim, of -another; that every privilege you enjoy is yours only by concession, not -right, must depress and all but madden the victim. In no situation, with -no flowery disguises, can the revolting institution be made consistent -with the free-agency of man, which we all believe to be the Divine gift. -We have been and are cruelly oppressed; why may we not come out with our -petition of right, and declare ourselves independent? For this were the -infant colonies applauded; who then shall inveigh against us for a -practice of the same heroism? Every word contained in their admirable -Declaration, applies to us. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - -THE AWFUL CONFESSION OF THE MASTER--DEATH; ITS COLD SOLEMNITY. - - -Time passed on; Mr. Peterkin drank more and more violently. He had grown -immense in size, and now slept nearly all the day as well as night. Dr. -Mandy had told the young ladies that there was great danger of apoplexy. -I frequently saw them standing off, talking, and looking at their father -with a strange expression, the meaning of which I could not divine; but -sure I am there was no love in it, 'twas more like a surmise or inquiry, -"How long will you be here?" I would not "set down aught in malice," I -would rather "extenuate," yet am I bound in truth to say that I think -their father's death was an event to which they looked with pleasure. He -had not been showy enough for them, nor had he loved such display as -they wished: true, he allowed them any amount of money; but he objected -to conforming to certain fashions, which they considered indispensable -to their own position; and this difference in ideas and tastes created -much discord. They were not girls of feeling and heart. To them, a -father was nothing more than an accidental guardian, whose duty it was -to supply them with money. - -Late one night, when I had fallen into a profound sleep, such an one as -I had not known for months, almost years, I was suddenly aroused by a -loud knocking at the cabin-door, and a shout of-- - -"Ann! Ann!" - -I instantly recognized the sharp staccato notes of Miss Jane's voice; -and, starting quickly up, I opened the door, but half-dressed, and -inquired what was wanting? - -"Are you one of the Seven Sleepers, that it requires such knocking to -arouse you? Here I've been beating and banging the door, and yet you -still slept on." - -I stammered out something like an excuse; and she told me master was -very ill, and I must instantly heat a large kettle of water; that Dr. -Mandy had been sent for, and upon his arrival, prescribed a hot bath. - -As quickly as the fire, aided by mine and Sally's united efforts, could -heat the water, it was got ready. Jake, Nace, and Dan lifted the large -bathing-tub into Mr. Peterkin's room, filled it with the warm water, and -placed him in it. The case was as Dr. Mandy had predicted. Mr. P. had -been seized with a violent attack of apoplexy, and his life was -despaired of. - -All the efforts of the physician seemed to fail. When Mr. Peterkin did -revive, it was frightful to listen to him. Such revolting oaths as he -used! Such horrid blasphemy as poured from his lips, I shrink from the -foulness of recording. - -Raving like a madman, he called upon God to restore his son, or stand -condemned as unjust. His daughters, in sheer affright, sent for the -country preacher; but the good man could effect nothing. His pious words -were wasted upon ears duller than stone. - -"I don't care a d--n for your religion. None of your hypocritical -prayin' round me," Mr. Peterkin would say, when the good parson sought -to beguile his attention, and lead him to the contemplation of divine -things. - -Frightful it was, to me, to stand by his bed-side, and hear him call -with an oath for whiskey, which was refused. - -He had drunk so long, and so deeply, that now, when he was suddenly -checked, the change was terrible to witness. He grew timid, and seemed -haunted by terrible spectres. Anon he would call to some fair-haired -woman, and shout out that there was blood, clotted blood, on her -ringlets; then, rolling himself up in the bed covering, he would shriek -for the skies and mountains to hide him from the meek reproach of those -girlish eyes! - -"Something terrible is on his memory," said the doctor to Miss Jane. -"Do you know aught of this?" - -"Nothing," she replied with a shudder. - -"Don't you remember," asked Miss Tildy, "how often Johnny's eyes seemed -to recall a remorseful memory, and how father would, as now, cry for -them to shut out that look which so tormented him?" - -"Yes, yes," and they both fled from the room, and did not again go near -their father. On the third evening of his illness, when Dr. Mandy (who -had been constantly with him) sat by his bed, holding his pulse, he -turned on his side, and asked in a mild tone, quite unusual to him, - -"Doctor, must I die? Tell me the truth; I don't want to be deceived." - -After a moment's pause, the doctor replied, "Yes, Mr. Peterkin, I will -speak the truth; I don't think you can recover from this attack, and, if -I am not very much mistaken, but a few hours of mortal life now remain -to you." - -"Then I must speak on a matter what has troubled me a good deal. If I -was a good scholar I'd a writ it out, and left it fur you to read; but -as I warn't much edicated, I couldn't do that, so I'll jist tell you -all, and relieve my mind." Here Mr. Peterkin's face assumed a frightful -expression; his eyes rolled terribly in his head, and blazed with an -expression which no language can paint. His very hair seemed erect with -terror. - -"Don't excite yourself; be calm! Wait until another time, then tell me." - -"No, no, I must speak now, I feel it 'twill do me good. Long time ago I -had a good kind mother, and one lovely sister;" and here his voice sank -to a whisper. "My father I can't remember; he died when I was a baby. I -was a wild boy; a 'brick,' as they usin' to call me. 'Way off in old -Virginny I was born and raised. My mother was a good, easy sort of -woman, that never used any force with her children, jist sich a person -as should raise gals, not fit to manage onruly boys like me. I jist had -my own way; came and went when I pleased. Mother didn't often reprove -me; whenever she did, it was in a gentle sort of way that I didn't mind -at all. I'd promise far enough; but then, I'd go and do my own way. So I -growed up to the age of eighteen. I'd go off on little trips; get myself -in debt, and mother'd have to pay. She an' sis had to take in sewin' to -support 'emselves, and me too. Wal, they didn't make money fast enough -at this; so they went out an' took in washin'. Sis, poor little thing, -hired herself out by the day, to get extry money for to buy little -knic-nacs fur mother, whose health had got mighty bad. Wal, their rent -had fell due, and Lucy (my sister) and mother had bin savin' up money -fur a good while, without sayin' anything to me 'bout it; but of nights -when they thought I was asleep, I seed 'em slip the money in a drawer of -an old bureau, that stood in the room whar I slept. Wal, I owed some men -a parcel of money, gamblin' debts, and they had bin sorter quarrelin' -with me 'bout it, and railin' of me 'bout my want of spirit, and I was -allers sort of proud an' very high-tempered. So I 'gan to think mother -and Luce was a saving up money fur to buy finery fur 'emselves, an' I -'greed I'd fix 'em fur it. So one night I made my brags to the boys that -I'd pay the next night, with intrust. Some of 'em bet big that I -wouldn't do it. So then I was bound fur it. Accordin', next night I -tried to get inter the drawer; but found it fast locked. I tried agin. -At length, with a wrinch, I bust it open, an' thar before me, all in -bright specie, lay fifty dollars! A big sum it 'peared to me, and then I -was all afired with passion, for Luce had refused me when I had axed her -to lend me money. Jist as I had pocketed it, an' was 'about to drive out -of the room, Lucy opened the door, an' seein' the drawer wide open, she -guessed it all. She gave one loud scream, saying, 'Oh, all our hard -savin's is gone.' I made a sign to her to keep silent; but she went on -hallowin' and cotcht hold of me, an' by a sort of quare strength, she -got her arm round me, an' her hand in my pocket, where the money was." - -"You musn't have this, indeed you musn't," said she, "for it is to pay -our rent." - -"One desperate effort I made, an' knocked her to the floor. Her head -struck agin the sharp part of the bureau, and the blood gushed from it; -I give one loud yell for mother, an' then fled. Give me some water," he -added, in a hollow tone. - -After moistening his lips, he continued: - -"Reachin' my companions, I paid down every cent of the money, principal -and interest, then got my bet paid, and left 'em, throwin' a few dollars -toward 'em for the gineral treat. - -"About midnight, soft as a cat, I crept along to our house; and I knew -from the light through the open shutter of the winder, that she was -either dead or dyin'; for it was a rule at our house to have the lights -put out afore ten. - -"I slipped up close to the winder, and lookin' in, saw the very wust -that I had expected--Lucy in her shroud! A long, white sheet was spread -over the body! Two long candles burnt at the head and foot of the -corpse. Three neighbor-women was watchin' with her. While I still -looked, the side door opened, and mother came in, looking white as a -ghost. She turned down the sheet from the body. I pressed my face still -closer to the winder-pane; and saw that white, dead face; the forehead, -where the wound had been given, was bandaged up. Mother knelt down, and -cried out with a tone that froze my blood-- - -"'My child, my murdered child!' I did not tarry another minute; but with -one loud yell bounded away. This scream roused the women, who seized up -the candle and run out to the door. I looked back an' saw them with -candles in hand, examining round the house. For weeks I lived in the -woods on herbs and nuts; occasionally stoppin' at farm-houses, an' -buyin' a leetle milk and bread, still I journeyed on toward the West, my -land of promise. At last, on foot, after long travel, I reached -Kaintuck. I engaged in all sorts of head-work, but didn't succeed very -well till I began to trade in niggers; then I made money fast enough. I -was a hard master. It seemed like I was the same as that old Ishmael you -read of in the old book; my hand was agin every man, and every man's -agin me. After while, I got mighty rich from tradin' in niggers, and -married. These is my children. This is all of my story,--a bad one 'tis -too; but, doctor, that boy, my poor, dead Johnny, was so like Lucy that -he almost driv' me mad. At times he had a sartin look, jist like hern, -that driv' a dagger to my heart. Oh, Lord! if I die, what will become of -me? Give me some whiskey, doctor, I mus' have some, for the devil and -all his imps seem to be here." - -He began raving in a frightful manner, and sprang out of bed so -furiously that the doctor deemed it necessary to have him confined. -Jake, Dan, and Nace were called in to assist in tying their master. It -was with difficulty they accomplished their task; but at last it was -done. Panting and foaming at the mouth, this Goliath of human -abominations lay! He, who had so often bound negroes, was now by them -bound down! If he had been fully conscious, his indignation would have -known no limits. - -Miss Jane sent for me to come to her room. I found her in hysterics. -Immediately, at her command, I set about rubbing her head, and chafing -her temples and hands with cologne; but all that I could do seemed to -fall far short of affording any relief. It appeared to me that her lungs -were unusually strong, for such screams I hardly ever listened to; but -her life was stout enough to stand it. The wicked are long-lived! - -Miss Tildy had more self-control. She moved about the house with her -usual indifference, caring for and heeding no one, except as she -bestowed upon me an occasional reprimand, which, to this day, I cannot -think I deserved. If she mislaid an article of apparel, she instantly -accused me of having stolen it; and persisted in the charge until it was -found. She always accompanied her accusations with impressive blows. It -is treatment such as this that robs the slave of all self-respect. He is -constantly taught to look upon himself as an animal, devoid of all good -attributes, without principle, and full of vice. If he really tries to -practice virtue and integrity, he gets no credit for it. "_Honest for a -nigger_," is a phrase much in use in Kentucky; the satirical -significance of which is perfectly understood by the astute African. I -knew that it was hard for me to hold fast to my principles amid such -fierce trials. It was so common a charge--that of liar and thief--that -despite my practice to the contrary, I almost began to accept the terms -as deserved. In some cases, the human conscience is a flexile thing! -but, thank Heaven! mine withstood the trial! - - * * * * * * * - -On the morning of the fifth day after Mr. Peterkin's illness, his -perturbed spirit, amid imprecations and blasphemies the most horrible, -took its leave of the mortal tenement. Whither went it, oh, angel of -mercy? A fearful charge had his guardian-angel to render up. - -This was the second time I had witnessed the death of a human master. I -had no tears; and, as a veracious historian, I am bound to say that I -regard it as a beneficent dispensation of Divine Providence. He, my -tyrant, had gone to his Judge to render a fearful account of the -dreadful deeds done in the body. - -After he was laid out and appropriately dressed, and the room darkened, -the young ladies came in to look at him. I believe they wept. At least, -I can testify to the premonitory symptoms of weeping, viz., the -fluttering of white pocket-handkerchiefs, in close proximity to the -eyes! The neighbors gathered round them with bottles of sal-volatile, -camphor, fans, &c., &c. There was no dearth of consolatory words, for -they were rich. Though Mr. Peterkin's possessions were vast, he could -carry no tithe of them to that land whither he had gone; and at that bar -before which he must stand, there would flash on him the stern eye of -Justice. His trial there would be equitable and rigid. His money could -avail him nought; for _there_ were allowed no "packed juries," bribed -and suborned witnesses, no wily attorneys to turn Truth astray; no -subtleties and quibbles of litigation; all is clear, straight, open, -even-handed justice, and his own deeds, like a mighty cloud of -evidence, would rise up against him--and so we consign him to his fate -and to his mother earth. - -But he was befittingly buried, even with the rites of Christianity! -There was a man in a white neck-cloth, with a sombre face, who read a -psalm, offered up a well-worded prayer, gave out a text, and therefrom -preached an appropriate, elegiac sermon. Not one, to be sure, in which -the peculiar virtues of brother Peterkin were set forth, but a sort of -pious oration, wherein religion, practical and revealed, was duly -encouraged, and great sympathy offered to the _lovely_ and bereaved -daughters, &c., &c. - -The body was placed in a very fine coffin, and interred in the family -burying-ground, near his wife and son! At the grave, Miss Jane, who well -understood scenic effect, contrived to get up an attack of syncope, and -fell prostrate beside the new-made grave. Of course "the friends" -gathered round her with restoratives, and, shouting for "air," they made -an opening in the crowd, through which she was borne to a carriage and -driven home. - -I had lingered, tenderly, beside young master's tomb, little heeding -what was passing around, when this theatrical excitement roused me. Oh! -does not one who has real trouble, heart-agony, sicken when he hears of -these affectations of grief? - -Slowly, but I suspect with right-willing hearts, the crowd turned away -from the grave, each betaking himself to his own home and pursuit. - -A few weeks after, a stately monument, commemorative of his good deeds, -was erected to the memory of James Peterkin. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. - -THE BRIDAL--ITS CEREMONIES--A TRIP, AND A CHANGE OF HOMES--THE -MAGNOLIA--A STRANGER. - - -Weeks rolled monotonously by after the death of Mr. Peterkin. There was -nothing to break the cloud of gloom that enveloped everything. - -The ladies were, as ever, cruel and abusive. Existence became more -painful to me than it had been before. It seemed as if every hope was -dead in my breast. An iron chain bound every aspiration, and I settled -down into the lethargy of despair. Even Nature, all radiant as she is, -had lost her former charms. I looked not beyond the narrow horizon of -the present. The future held out to me no allurements, whilst the dark -and gloomy past was an arid plain, without fountain, or flower, or -sunshine, over which I dared not send my broken spirit. - -In this state of dreary monotony, I passed my life for months, until an -event occurred which changed my whole after-fate. - -Mr. Summerville, who, it seems, had kept up a regular correspondence -with Miss Jane, made us a visit, and, after much secret talking in dark -parlors, long rambles through the woods, twilight and moonlight -whisperings on the gallery, Miss Jane announced that there would, on the -following evening, be performed a marriage ceremony of importance to -all, but of very particular interest to Mr. Summerville and herself. - -Accordingly, on the evening mentioned, the marriage rite was solemnized -in the presence of a few social friends, among whom Dr. Mandy and wife -shone conspicuously. I duly plied the guests with wine, cakes and -confections. - -Miss Tildy, by the advice of her bride-sister, enacted the pathetic -very perfectly. She wept, sighed, and, I do believe, fainted or tried to -faint. This was at the special suggestion of her sister, who duly -commended and appreciated her. - -Mr. Summerville, for the several days that he remained with us, looked, -and was, I suppose, the very personification of delight. - -In about a week or ten days after the solemnization of the matrimonial -rite, Mr. Summerville made his "better half" (or worse, I know not -which), understand that very important business urged his immediate -return to the city. Of course, whilst the novelty of the situation -lasted, she was as obedient and complaisant as the most exacting husband -could demand, and instantly consented to her lord's request. She bade me -get ready to accompany her; and, as she had heard that people from the -country were judged according to the wardrobe of their servants, she -prepared for me quite a decent outfit. - -One bright morning, I shall ever remember it, we started off with -innumerable trunks, band-boxes, &c.--for the city of L----. Without one -feeling of regret, I turned my face from the Peterkin farm. I never saw -it after, save in dark and fearful dreams, from which I always awoke -with a shudder. I felt half-emancipated, when my back was turned against -it, and in the distance loomed up the city and freedom. I had a queer -fancy, that if the Peterkin influence were once thrown off, the rest -would speedily succeed! - -If I had only been allowed, I could have shouted out like a school-boy -freed from a difficult lesson; but Miss Jane's checking glance was upon -me, and 'twas like winter's frozen breath over a gladsome lake. - -I well remember the beautiful ride upon the boat, and how long and -lingeringly I gazed over the guard, looking down at the blue, -dolphin-like waves. All the day, whilst others lounged and talked, I was -looking at those same curling, frothy billows, making, in my own mind, -fifty fantastic comparisons, which then appeared to me very brilliant, -but, since I have learned to think differently. Truly, the foam has died -on the wave. - -When night came on, wrapped in her sombre purple, yet glittering with a -cuirass of stars and a helmet of planets, the waters sparkled and danced -with a fairy-like beauty, and I thought I had never beheld anything half -so ecstatic! There was none on that crowded steamer who dreamed of the -glory that was nestling, like a thing of love, deep and close down in -the poor slave's breast! - -To those who surrounded me, this was but an ordinary sight; to me it was -one of strange, unimagined loveliness. I was careful however, to -disguise my emotions. I would have given worlds (had I been their -possessor) to speak my joy in one wild word, or to shout it forth in a -single cry. - -This pleasure, like all others, found its speedy end. The next morning, -about ten o'clock, we landed in L--, a city of some commercial -consequence in the West. Indeed, by old residents of the interior of -Kentucky, it is regarded as "_the city_." I have often since thought of -my first landing there; of its dusty, dirty coal-besmoked appearance; of -its hedge of drays, its knots of garrulous and noisy drivers, and then -the line of dusky warehouses, storage rooms, &c. All this instantly -rises to my mind when I hear that growing city spoken of. - -Mr. Summerville engaged one of the neatest-looking coaches at the wharf; -and into it Miss Jane, baggage and servant were unceremoniously hurried. -I had not the privilege and scarcely the wish to look out of the -coach-window, yet, from my crowded and uncomfortable position, I could -catch a sight of an occasional ambitious barber's pole, or myriad-tinted -chemists' bottles; all these, be it remembered, were novelties to me, -who had never been ten miles from Mr. Peterkin's farm. At length the -driver drew a halt at the G---- House, as Mr. Summerville had directed, -and, at this palatial-looking building Mr. Summerville had taken -quarters. How well I recollect its wide hall, its gothic entrance and -hospitable-looking vestibule! The cane-colored floor cloth, -corresponding with the oaken walls struck me as the harmonious design of -an artistic mind. - -For a few moments only was Miss Jane left in the neat reception-room, -when a nice-looking mulatto man entered, and, in a low, gentlemanly -tone, informed her that her room was ready. Taking the basket and -portmanteau from me, he politely requested that we would follow him to -room No. 225. Through winding corridors and interminable galleries, he -conducted us, until, at last, we reached it. Drawing a key from his -pocket, he applied it to the lock, and bade Miss Jane enter. She was -much pleased with the arrangement of the furniture, the adjustment of -the drapery, &c. - -The floor was covered with a beautiful green velvet carpet, torn bouquet -pattern, whilst the design of the rug was one that well harmonized with -the disposition of the present tenant. It was a wild tiger reposing in -his native jungle. - -After Miss Jane had made an elaborate toilette, she told me, as a great -favor, she would allow me to go down stairs, or walk through the halls -for recreation, as she had no further use for me. - -I wandered about, passing many rooms, all numbered in gilt figures. The -most of them had their doors open, and I amused myself watching the -different expressions of face and manners of their occupants. This had -always been a habit of mine, for the indulgence of which, however, I had -had but little opportunity. - -I strayed on till I reached the parlors, and they burst upon me with the -necromantic power of Aladdin's hall. A continuity of four apartments -rolled away into a seeming mist, and the adroit position of a mirror -multiplied their number and added greatly to the gorgeous effect. There -were purple and golden curtains, with their many tinsel ornaments; -carpets of the gayest style, from the richest looms. "Etruscan vases, -quaint and old" adorned the mantel-shelf, and easy divans and lounges of -mosaic-velvet were ranged tastefully around. An arcade, with its stately -pillars, divided two of the rooms, and the inter-columniations were -ornamented with statues and statuettes; and upon a marble table, in the -centre of one of the apartments, was a blooming magnolia, the first one -I had ever seen! That strange and mysterious odor, that, like a fine, -inner, sub-sense, pervades the nerve with a quickening power, stole over -me! I stood before the flower in a sort of delicious, delirious joy. -There, with its huge fan-like leaves of green, this pure white blossom, -queen of all the tribe of flowers, shed its glorious perfume and -unfolded its mysterious beauty. It seemed that a new life was opening -upon me. Surely, I said, this _is_ fairy land. For more than an hour I -lingered beside that splendid magnolia, vainly essaying to drink in its -glory and its mystery. - -Miss Jane and Mr. Summerville had gone out to take a drive over the -city, and I was comparatively free, in their absence, to go -whithersoever I pleased. - -Whilst I still loitered near the flower, a very sweet but manly voice -asked: - -"Do you love flowers?" - -I turned hastily, and to my surprise, beheld a fine-looking gentleman -standing in close contiguity to me. With pleasure I think now of his -broad, open face, written all over with love and kindness; his deep, -fervid blue eye, that wore such a gentle expression; and the scant, yet -fair hair that rolled away from his magnificent forehead! He appeared to -be slightly upwards of fifty; but I am sure from his face, that those -fifty years had been most nobly spent. - -I trembled as I replied: - -"Yes, I am very fond of flowers." - -He noticed my embarrassment, and smiled most benignantly. - -"Did you ever see a magnolia before?" - -"Is this a magnolia?" I inquired, pointing to the luxurious flower. - -"Yes, and one of the finest I ever saw. It belongs to the South. Are you -sure you never saw one before?" He fixed his eyes inquiringly upon me as -I answered: - -"Oh, quite sure, sir; I never was ten miles from my master's farm in my -life." - -"You are a slave?" - -"Yes, sir, I am." - -He waited a moment, then said: - -"Are you happy?" - -I dared not tell a falsehood, yet to have truly stated my feelings, -would have been dangerous; so I evasively replied: - -"Yes, as much so as most slaves." - -I thought I heard him sigh, as he slowly moved away. - -My eyes followed him with inquiring wonder. Who could he be? Certain I -was that no malice had prompted the question he had asked me. The -circumstance created anxiety in my mind. All that day as I walked about, -or waited on Miss Jane, that stranger's face shone like a new-risen -moon upon my darkened heart. Had I found, accidentally, one of those -Northern Abolitionists, about whom I had heard so much? Often after when -sent upon errands for my mistress, I met him in the halls, and he always -gave me a kind smile and a friendly salutation. Once Miss Jane observed -this, and instantly accused me of having a dishonorable acquaintance -with him. My honor was a thing that I had always guarded with the utmost -vigilance, and to such a serious charge I perhaps made some hasty reply, -whereupon Miss Jane seized a riding-whip, and cut me most severely -across the face, leaving an ugly mark, a trace of which I still bear, -and suppose I shall carry to my grave. Mr. Summerville expostulated with -his wife, saying that it was better to use gentle means at first. - -"No, husband," (she always thus addressed him,) "I know more about the -management of _niggers_ than you do." - -This gross pronunciation of the word negro has a popular use even among -the upper and educated classes of Kentucky. I am at a loss to account -for it, in any other way than by supposing that they use it to express -their deepest contempt. - -Mr. Summerville was rather disposed to be humane to his servants. He was -no advocate of the rod; he used to term it the relic of barbarism. He -preferred selling a refractory servant to whipping him. This did not -accord particularly well with Miss Jane's views, and the consequence was -they had many a little private argument that did not promise to end -well. - -Miss Jane made many acquaintances among the boarders in the hotel, with -whom she was much pleased. She had frequent invitations to attend the -theatre, concerts, and even parties. Many of the fashionables of the -city called upon her, offering, in true Kentucky style, the -hospitalities of their mansions. With this she was quite delighted, and -her new life became one of intense interest and gratification, as her -letters to her sister proved. - -She would often regret Tildy was not there to share in her delight; but -it had been considered best for her to remain at the old homestead until -some arrangement could be made about the division of the estate. Two of -the neighbors, a gentleman and his wife, took up their abode with her; -but she expected to visit the city so soon as Miss Jane went to -house-keeping, which would be in a few months. Miss Jane was frequently -out spending social days and evenings with her friends, thus giving me -the opportunity of going about more than I had ever done through the -house. In this way I formed a pleasant acquaintance with several of the -chambermaids, colored girls and free. Friendships thus grew up which -have lasted ever since, and will continue, I trust, until death closes -over us. One of the girls, Louise, a half-breed, was an especial -favorite. She had read some, and was tolerably well educated. From her I -often borrowed interesting books, compends of history, bible-stories, -poems, &c. I also became a furious reader of newspapers, thus picking -up, occasionally, much useful information. Louise introduced me, -formally, to the head steward, an intelligent mulatto man, named Henry, -of most prepossessing appearance; but the shadow of a great grief lurked -in the full look of his large dark eye! "I am a slave, God help me!" -seemed stamped upon his face; 'twas but seldom that I saw him smile, and -then it was so like the reflection of a tear, that it pained me full as -much as his sigh. He had access to the gentlemen's reading-room; and -through him I often had the opportunity of reading the leading -Anti-slavery journals. With what avidity I devoured them! How full they -were of the noblest philanthropy! Great exponents of real liberty! at -the words of your argument my heart leaped like a new-fledged bird! -Still pour forth your burning eloquence; it will yet blaze like a -watchfire on the Mount of Liberty! The gladness, the hope, the faith it -imparted to my long-bowed heart, would, I am sure, give joy to those -noble leaders of the great cause. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. - -THE ARGUMENT. - - -One day, when Miss Jane and Mr. Summerville had gone out at an early -hour to spend the entire day, I little knew what to do with myself as I -had no books nor papers to read, and Louise had business that took her -out of the house. - -The day was unusually soft and pleasant. I wandered through the halls, -and, drawing near a private gallery that ran along in front of the -gentlemen's room, I paused to look at a large picture of an English -fox-chase, that adorned the wall. Whilst examining its rare and peculiar -beauties, my ear was pleasantly struck by the sound of a much-esteemed -voice, saying-- - -"Well, very well! Let us take seats here, in this retired place, and -begin the conversation we have been threatening so long." - -I glanced out at the crevice of the partially open door, and distinctly -recognized the gentleman who had spoken to me of the magnolia, and who -(I had learned) was James Trueman, of Boston, a man of high standing and -social position, and a successful practitioner of law in his native -State. - -The other was a gentleman from Virginia, one of the very first families -(there are no second, I believe), by the name of Winston, a man reputed -of very vast possessions, a land-holder, and an extensive owner of -slaves. I had frequently observed him in company with Mr. Trueman, and -had inquired of Henry who and what he was. - -I felt a little reluctant to remain in my position and hear this -conversation, not designed for me; yet a singular impulse urged me to -remain. I felt (and I scarce know why) that it had a bearing upon the -great moral and social question that so agitated the country. Whilst I -was debating with myself about the propriety of a retreat, I caught a -few words, which determined me to stay and hear what I believed would -prove an interesting discussion. - -"Let us, my dear Mr. Winston," began Mr. Trueman, "indulge for a few -moments in a conversation upon this momentous subject. Both of us have -passed that time of life when the ardor and impetuosity of youthful -blood might unfit us for such a discussion, and we may say what we -please on this vexed question with the distinct understanding, that -however offensive our language may become, it will be regarded as -_general_, neither meant nor understood to have any application to -ourselves." - -"I am quite willing and ready to converse as you propose," replied the -other, in a quick, unpleasant tone, "and I gladly accept the terms -suggested, in which you only anticipate my design. It is well to agree -upon such restraint; for though, as you remind me, our advancing years -have taken much of the fervor from our blood, and left us calm, sober, -thoughtful men, the agitating nature of the subject and the deep -interest which both of us feel in it, should put us on our guard. If, -then, during the progress of the conversation, either of us shall be -unduly excited, let the recollection of the conditions upon which we -engage in it, recall him to his accustomed good-humor." - -"Well, we have settled the preliminaries without difficulty, and to -mutual satisfaction. And now, the way being clear, our discussion may -proceed. I assume, then, in the outset, that the institution of slavery, -as it exists in the South, is a monstrous evil. I assume this -proposition; not alone because it is the universal sentiment of the -'rest of mankind;' but also, because it is now very generally conceded -by slave-holders themselves." - -"Pray, where did you learn that slave-holders ever made such a -concession? As to what may be the sentiment of the 'rest of mankind,' I -may speak by-and-bye. For the present, my concern is with the opinion of -that large slave-holding class to which I belong. I am extensively -acquainted among them, and if that is their opinion of our peculiar -institution, I am entirely ignorant of it." - -"Your ignorance," said Mr. Trueman, with a smile, "in that regard, while -it by no means disproves my proposition, may be easily explained. With -your neighbors, who feel like yourself the dread responsibility of this -crying abomination, it is not pleasant, perhaps, to talk upon it, and -you avoid doing so without the slightest trouble; because you have other -and more engaging topics, such as the condition of your farms, the -prospect of fine crops, and all the 'changes of the varying year.' But, -read the declarations of your chosen Representatives, the favorite sons -of the South, in the high councils of our nation; and you will discover, -that in all the debates involving it, slavery, in itself, and in its -consequences, is frankly admitted to be a tremendous evil." - -"Our Representatives may have sometimes thought proper to make such an -admission to appease the fanaticism of Northern Abolitionists, and to -quiet the agitations of the country in the spirit of generous -compromise: but _I_ am not bound to make it, and _I will not make it_. -Neither do I avoid conversations with my neighbors upon the subject of -slavery from the motive you intimate, nor from any other motive. I have -frequently talked with them upon it, boldly and candidly, as I am -prepared to talk to you or any reasonable man. Your proposition I -positively deny, and can quickly refute." I thought there was a little -anger in the tone in which he said this; but no excitement was -discernible in the clear, calm voice with which Mr. Trueman answered-- - -"Independently of the admission of your Representatives, which, I think, -ought to bind you (for you must have been aware of it, and since it was -public and undisputed, your acquiescence might be fairly presumed), -there are many considerations that establish the truth of my position. -But I cannot indorse your harsh reflection upon the Representatives of -your choice. I cannot believe them capable of admitting, for any -purpose, a proposition which, in their opinion and that of their -constituents, asserts a falsehood. The immortal Henry Clay and such men -as he are responsible for the admission, and not one of them was ever so -timid as to be under the dominion of fear, or so dishonest as to be -hypocritical." - -A moment's pause ensued, when Mr. Winston appeared to rally, and said, - -"I do not understand, then, if that was their real opinion, how it was -possible for them to continue to hold slaves. To say the least of it, -their practice was not in accordance with their theory. Hence I said, -that under certain circumstances and to serve a special purpose, they -may have conceded slavery to be an evil. For my own part, if I were -persuaded that this proposition is true, it would constrain me to -liberate all my slaves, whatever may be my attachment to them or the -loss I should necessarily suffer. Some of them have been acquired by -purchase; others by inheritance: all of them seem satisfied with their -treatment upon my estate; yet nothing could induce me to claim the -property I have hitherto thought I possessed in them, when convinced of -the evil which your proposition asserts." - -"Nothing could be fairer, my dear Mr. Winston. Your conviction will -doubtless subject you to immense sacrifices: but these will only enhance -your real worth as a man, and I am sure you will make them without -hesitation, though it may be, not without reluctance. Now, it is a -principle of law, well settled, that no person can in any manner convey -a title, even to those things which are property, greater than that -which he rightfully possesses. If, for instance, I acquire, by theft or -otherwise, unlawful possession of your watch or other articles of value, -which is transferred, by the operation of purchase and sale, through -many hands, your right never ceases; and the process of law will enable -you to obtain possession. Each individual who purchased the article, may -have his remedy against him from whom he procured it, however extended -the series of purchasers: but, since whatever right any one of them has -was derived originally from me, and since my unlawful acquisition -conferred no right at all, it follows that none was transmitted. -Consequently, you were not divested, and the just spirit of law, -continuing to recognize your property in the article whenever found, -provides the ready means whereby you may reduce it once more to -possession. This principle of law is not peculiar to a single locality; -it enters into the remedial code of all civilized countries. Its -benefits are accessible to the free negro in this land of the dark -Southern border; and, I trust, it will not be long before those who are -now held in slavery may be embraced in its beneficent operation. Whether -it is recognized internationally, I am not fully prepared to say; but it -ought to be, if it is not, for it is the dictate of equity and common -sense. But, upon the hypothesis that it is so recognized, if the -property of an inhabitant of Africa were stolen from him by a citizen of -the United States, he might recover it. As for those people who, in the -Southern States, are held as slaves, they or their ancestors came here -originally not by their own choice, but by compulsion, from distant -Africa. You will hardly deny, I presume, what is, historically, so -evident--that "they were captured," as the phrase is, or, in our honest -vernacular, _stolen_ and brought by violence from their native homes. -Had they been the proper subjects of property, what could prevent the -application of the principle I have quoted?" - -After two or three hems and haws, Mr. Winston began: - -"I have never inquired particularly into the matter; but have always -entertained the impression which pervades the Southern mind, that our -negroes are legitimately our slaves, in pursuance of the malediction -denounced by God against Ham and his descendants, of whom they are a -part. And, so thinking, I believed we were entitled to the same right to -them which we exercise over the beasts of the field, the fowls of the -air, and the fishes of the deep. Moreover, your principle of law, which -is indeed very correct, is inapplicable to their case. There is also a -principle in the law of my State, incapacitating slaves to hold -property. They are property themselves; and property cannot hold -property. Apart from the terrible curse, which doomed them in the -beginning, they were slaves in their own country to men of their own -race; slaves by right of conquest. Therefore, taking the instance you -have suggested, by way of illustration, were any article of value -wrested from their possession, under this additional principle, the law -could not give them any redress. But, inasmuch as whatever they may -acquire becomes immediately the property of their master, to him the law -will furnish a remedy." - -"You do not deny," and here Mr. Trueman's tone was elevated and a little -excited, "that the first of those who reached this country were stolen -in Africa. Now, for the sake of the argument merely, I will admit that -they were slaves at home. If they were slaves at home--it matters not -whether by 'right or conquest,' or 'in pursuance of _the curse_,' they -must have been the property of somebody, and those who stole them and -sold them into bondage in America could give no valid title to their -purchasers; for by the theft they had acquired none themselves. Hence, -if ever they were slaves, they are still the property of their masters -in Africa; but, if your interpretation of "the curse" is correct, those -masters were also slaves, and, being such, under the principle of law -which you have quoted, they could not for this reason hold property. -Therefore, those oppressed and outraged, though benighted people, who -were first sold into slavery, to the eternal disgrace of our land, were, -in sheer justice, either _free_, or the property--even after the -sale--of their African masters, if they had any; in neither case could -they belong to those of our citizens who were unfortunate enough to buy -them. They were not slaves of African masters: for, according to your -argument, all of the race are slaves, and slaves cannot own slaves any -more than horses can own horses; therefore, since no other people -claimed dominion over them, they were, necessarily, free. You cannot -escape from this dilemma, and the choice of either horn is fatal to your -cause. Being free, might they not have held property like other -nations? And, had any of it been stolen from them by those who are -amenable to our laws, would not consistency compel us, who recognize the -just principle I have quoted, to restore it to them? This is the course -pursued among ourselves; and it ceases not with restoration; but on the -offender it proceeds to inflict punishment, to prevent a repetition of -the offence. This is the course we should pursue toward that -down-trodden race whose greatest guilt is 'a skin not colored like our -own.' - -"As the case stands, it is not a question of property, but of that more -valuable and sacred right, the right of _personal liberty_, of which we -now boast so loudly. What, in the estimation of the world, is the worth -of those multitudinous orations, apostrophies to liberty, which, on each -recurring Fourth of July, in whatever quarter of the globe Americans may -be assembled, penetrate the public ear? What are they worth to us, if, -while reminding us of early colonial and revolutionary struggles against -the galling tyranny of the British crown, they fail to inculcate the -easy lesson of respect for the rights of all mankind? In keeping those -poor Africans in the South still enslaved, you practically ignore this -lesson, and you trample with unholy feet that divine ordinance which -commands you 'to do unto others as you would have others do unto you.' -By the oppression to which we were subjected under the yoke of Britain, -and against which we wrestled so long, so patiently, so vigorously, in -so many ways, and at last so triumphantly, I adjure you to put an end, -at once and forever, to this business of holding slaves. This is -oppression indeed, in comparison with which, that which drew forth our -angry and bitter complaints, was very freedom. Let us, instead of -perpetuating this infamous institution, be true to ourselves; let us -vindicate the pretensions we set up when we characterize ours as 'the -land of liberty, the asylum of the oppressed,' by proclaiming to the -nations of the earth that, so soon as a slave touches the soil of -America, his manacles shall fall from him: let us verify the words -engraven in enduring brass on the old bell which from the tower of -Independence Hall rang out our glorious Declaration, and in deed and in -truth proclaim 'Liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison -doors to them that are bound.' As you value truth, honor, justice, -consistency, aye, humanity even, wipe out the black blot which defiles -the border of our escutcheon, and the country will then be in reality -what is now only in name, a _free_ country, loving liberty -disinterestedly for its own sake, and for that of all people, and -nations, and tribes, and tongues. - -"You may still, if you choose, dispute and philosophize about the -inequality of races, and continue to insist on the boasted superiority -of _our_ Caucasian blood; but the greatest disadvantages which a -comparison can indicate will not prove that one's claim to liberty is -higher than another's. It may be that we of the white race, are vastly -superior to our African brethren. The differences, however, are not -flattering to us; for we should remember with shame and confusion of -face, that our injustice and cruelty have produced them. Having first -enslaved the poor Africans and subsequently withheld from them every -means of improvement, it is not strange that such differences should -exist as those on which we plume ourselves. But is it not intolerable -that we should now quote them with such brazen self-gratulation? - -"Despite the manifold disadvantages that encumber and clog the movements -of the Africans, unfortunately for the validity of your argument their -race exhibits many proud specimens to prove their capability of culture, -and of the enjoyment of freedom. Give them but the same opportunities -that we have, and they will rival us in learning, refinement, -statesmanship, and general demeanor, as is incontestibly shown in the -lives and characters of many now living. Such men as Fred Douglas and -President Roberts, would honor any complexion; or, I ought rather to -say, should make us forget and despise the distinctions of color, since -they reach not below the surface of the skin, nor affect, in the least, -that better part that gives to man all his dignity and worth. Nor need I -point to these illustrious examples to rebut the inferences you deduce -from color. Every village and hamlet in your own sunny South, can -furnish an abundant refutation, in its obscure but eloquent 'colored -preachers'--noble patterns of industry and wisdom, who show forth, by -their exemplary bearing, all the beauty of holiness,--'allure to -brighter worlds and lead the way.'" - -It is impossible to furnish even the faintest description of the -pleading earnestness of the speaker's tone. His full, round, rich voice, -grew intense, low and silvery in its harmonious utterance. As he -pronounced the last sentence, it was with difficulty I could repress a -cry of applause. Oh, surely, surely, I thought, our cause, the African's -cause, is not helpless, is not lost, whilst it still possesses such an -advocate. My eyes overflowed with grateful tears, and I longed to kiss -the hem of his garment. - -"You forget," answered Mr. Winston, "or you would do well to consider, -that these cases are exceptional cases, which neither preclude my -inferences nor warrant your assumption." - -"Exceptions, indeed, they are; but why?" inquired Mr. Trueman. -"Exceptions, you know, prove the rule. Now, you infer from the sooty -complexion of the Africans, a natural and necessary incapacity for the -blessings of self-government and the refinements of education. I have -mentioned individuals of this fatal complexion who are in the wise -enjoyment of these sublime privileges: one of them has acquired an -enviable celebrity as an orator, the other is the accomplished President -of the infant Liberian Republic. If color incapacitated, as you seem to -think, it would affect all alike; but it has not incapacitated these, -therefore it does not incapacitate at all. These are exceptions not to -the general _capacity_ of the blacks, but only to their general -opportunity. What they have done others may do--the opportunities being -equal." - -"I have listened to you entire argument," rejoined Mr. Winston, "very -patiently, with the expectation of hearing the proposition sustained -with which you so vauntingly set out. You will, perhaps, accord to me -the credit of being--what in this age of ceaseless talk is rarely -met--'a good listener.' But, after all my patience and attention, I am -still unsatisfied--if not unshaken. You have failed to meet the -argument drawn from the 'curse' pronounced on the progenitors of the -unfortunate race: you have failed to present or notice what is generally -considered by theologians and moralists the right of a purchaser--in -your illustration from stolen goods--to something for the money with -which he parts; and here, I think, you manifested great unfairness; and, -above all, you have failed to propose any feasible remedy for the state -of things against which you inveigh. What have you to say on these -material points?" - -"Very much, my good sir, as you will find, if, instead of taking -advantage of every momentary pause to make out such a 'failure' as you -desire, you only prolong your very complimentary patience. I wish you to -watch the argument narrowly; to expose the faintest flaw you can detect -in it; and, at the end, if unsatisfied, cry out 'failure,' or let it -wring from you a reluctant confession. You will, at least, before I -shall have done, withdraw the illiberal imputation of unfairness. It -would be an easy task for me to anticipate all you can say, and to -refute it; but such a course would leave you nothing to say, and, since -I intend this discussion to be strictly a conversation, I shall leave -you at liberty to present your own arguments in your own way. Now, as to -the argument from 'the curse,' you must permit me to observe, that your -interpretation is too free and latitudinarian. Mine is more literal, -more in accordance with the character of God; it fully satisfies the -Divine vengeance, and, whether correct or not, has, at least, as much -authority in its favor. Granting the dominion of the white over the -black race to be in virtue of 'the curse,' it by no means conveys such -power as your Southern institution seeks to justify. The word _slave_ -nowhere occurs in that memorable malediction; but there is an obvious -distinction between _its_ import and that of the word _servant_, which -it _does_ employ. Surely, for the offence of looking upon the nakedness -of his father, Ham could not have incurred and entailed upon his -posterity a heavier punishment than they would necessarily suffer as -the simple servants of their brethren. And this consideration should -induce you to give them, at least, the same share of freedom as is -enjoyed by the _white servants_ to be found in many a household in the -South. Such servitude would be the utmost that a merciful God could -require. Even this, however, was under the old dispensation; and the -reign of its laws, customs, and punishments, should melt under the -genial rays of the sun of Christianity. Many of your own patriots, -headed by Washington and Jefferson, have long since thought so; and but -few in these days plead 'the curse' as excuse or justification for that -'damned spot' which all will come ultimately to consider the disgrace of -this enlightened age and nation. As to your next point, the right which -a purchaser of stolen goods may acquire in them in consideration of the -money which he pays, I grant all the benefit that even the most generous -theologian or moralist can allow in the best circumstances of such a -case. And what does this amount to? A return of the purchase-money, with -a reasonable or very high rate of interest for the detention, would be -as much as any one could demand. Applying this to the case of the stolen -Africans, how many of those who were forced from their native land to -this have died on their master's hands without yielding by their labor, -not alone the principal, but a handsome percentage upon the money -invested in their purchase? Thus purchasers were indemnified--abundantly -indemnified, against loss. The indemnity, however, should have been -sought from the seller, not from the article or person sold. But, at -best, purchasers of stolen goods, to entitle themselves to any -indemnity, should at least be innocent; for if they buy such goods, -_knowing them to be stolen_, they are guilty of a serious misdemeanor, -which is everywhere punishable under the law. 'He who asks equity must -do equity.' When, therefore, you of the South would realize the benefit -of the concession of theologians and moralists--the benefit of -justice--you should bring yourselves within the conditions they require; -you should come into court with clean hands, and with the intention of -acting in good faith. Have you done so? Did your fathers do so before -you? Not at all. They were not ignorant purchasers of the poor, ravished -African; they knew full well that he had been stolen and brought by -violence from his distant home: consequently, they were guilty of a -misdemeanor in purchasing; consequently, too, they come not within the -case proposed by the theologians and moralists, which might entitle them -to indemnity; nor were they in a condition to ask it. The present -generation, claiming through them, find themselves in the same -predicament, with the same title only, and the same unclean hands, -perpetuating their foul oppression. None of them, as I have shown, had a -right to claim indemnity by reason of having invested their money in -that way; and, if they ever had such right, they have been richly -indemnified already. Therefore, it is absurd for you to continue the -slave business upon this plea. Having thus answered your only objections -to my position, I might remind you of your determination, and call upon -you to 'liberate your slaves,' and take sides with me in opposition to -the cruel institution. You are greatly mistaken in supposing that my -omission to propose a plan, by which slave-holders could _conveniently, -and without pecuniary loss_, emancipate their slaves, constitutes the -slightest objection to the argument I have advanced. If you defer their -emancipation until such a plan is proposed; if you are unwilling to -incur even a little sacrifice, what nobility will there be in the act, -to entitle you to the consideration of the just and good, or to the -approval of your own consciences? I sought by this discussion, to -convince you that slavery is an enormous evil; the proposition was -declared in all its boldness. You volunteered a pledge to release your -slaves if I could sustain it, let the sacrifice be what it might. Some -sacrifice, then, you must have anticipated; and, should your conviction -now demand it, you have no cause to complain of me. Your pledge was -altogether voluntary; I did not even ask it; nor did I design to suggest -any such plan of universal emancipation as would suit the _convenience_ -of everybody. I am not so extravagantly silly as to hope to do that. -But, after all, why wait for a _plan_? Immediate, universal -emancipation is not impracticable, and numberless methods might and -would at once be devised, if the people of your States were sincere when -they profess to desire its accomplishment. Their _real_ wish, however, -whatever it may be, need not interfere between your individual pledge, -and its prompt fulfilment." - -Mr. Trueman paused for full five minutes, and, as I peered out from my -hiding-place, I thought there was a very quizzical sort of expression on -his fine face. - -"Well, what have you to say?" he at length asked. - -"It seems to me," Mr. Winston began, in an angry tone, "you speak very -flippantly and very wildly about general emancipation. Consider, sir, -that slavery is so woven into our society, that there is scarcely a -family that would not be more or less affected by a change. Fundamental -alterations in society, to be safely made, must be the slow work of -years: - - - 'Not the hasty product of a day, - But the well-ripened fruit of wise delay.' - - -So it is only by almost imperceptible degrees that the emancipationists -and impertinent Abolitionists can ever attain 'the consummation' they -pretend to have so much at heart. If they would just stay at home and -devote their spare time to cleansing their own garments, leaving us of -the South to suffer alone what they are pleased to esteem the evil and -sin and curse, the shame, burden and abomination of slavery, we should -the sooner discover its blasting enormities, and strive more zealously -to abolish them and the institution from which they proceed. Their -super-serviceable interference, hitherto, has only riveted and tightened -the bondage of those with whom they sympathize; and such a result will -always attend it. Our slaves, as at present situated, are very well -satisfied, as, indeed, they ought to be: for they are exempt from the -anxious cares of the free, as to what they shall eat or what they shall -drink, or wherewithal they shall be clothed. Many poor men of our own -color would gladly exchange conditions with them, because they find life -to be a hard, an incessant struggle for the scantiest comforts, with -which our slaves are supplied at no cost of personal solicitude. -Besides, sir, our institution of slavery is vastly more burdensome to -ourselves than to the negroes for whom you affect so much fraternal -love." - -"One would suppose, that if you thought it burdensome, you would be -making some effort to relieve yourselves," interposed Mr. Trueman, in -that clear and pointed manner that was his peculiarity; "and, if -immediate emancipation were deemed impracticable in consequence of the -radical hold which this institution has at the South, you might -naturally be expected to be doing something toward that end by the -encouragement of education among those in bondage, by the sanction of -marriage ties between them, and by other efforts to ameliorate their -condition. Certain inducements might be presented for the manumission of -slaves by individual owners, for there are some of this class, I am -happy to think, who, in tender humanity, would release their slaves, if -the stringency of the laws did not deter them from it. Would it not be -well to abate somewhat of this rigor, and allow all slaves, voluntarily -manumitted, to remain in the several States with at least the privileges -of the free negroes now resident therein, so that the olden ties, which -have grown up between themselves and their owners, might not be abruptly -snapped asunder? Besides, to enforce the propriety of this alteration of -the law, it would be well to reflect that the South is the native home -of most of the slaves, who cherish their local attachments quite as much -as ourselves; and hence the law which now requires them, when by any -means they have obtained their freedom, to remove beyond the limits of -the State, is a very serious hardship and should cease to exist. This -would be a long stride toward your own relief from the burden of which -you complain. As to the slaves, who you think should be content with -their condition, in which they have, as you say, 'no care for necessary -food and raiment,' I would suggest that they have the faculty of -distinguishing between slavery and bondage, and have sense enough to see -that though these things, which are generally of the coarsest kind, are -provided by their masters, the means by which they are furnished are but -a scanty portion of their own hard earnings. Were they free, they could -work in the same way, and be entitled to _all_ the fruits of their -labor. Then they would have the same inducements to toil that we now -have, and the same ambition to lift themselves higher and higher in the -social scale. Those white men whom you believe willing to exchange -situations with them, are too indolent to enjoy the privileges of -freedom, and would be utterly worthless as slaves. You declaim against -the course which the Abolitionists have pursued, and seem disposed, in -consequence, to tighten the cords of servitude. You would be let alone, -forsooth, to bear this burden as long as you please, and to get rid of -it at pleasure. So long as there was any hope that you would do what you -ought in the matter, you were let alone, and if you were the only -sufferers from your peculiar institution, you might continue -undisturbed; but the yoke lies heavy and galling upon the poor slaves -themselves, whose voices are stifled, and it is high time for the -friends of human rights to speak in their behalf, till they make -themselves heard. At this momentous period, when new States and -Territories are knocking for admission at the doors of our Union--States -and Territories of free and virgin soil, which you are seeking to defile -by the introduction of slavery--it is fit that they should persevere in -their noble efforts, that they should resist your endeavors, and strive -with all their energies to confine the obnoxious institution within its -already too-extended bounds; for they know, that, if they would attain -their object--the ultimate and entire abolition of slavery from our -land--they should oppose strenuously every movement tending to its -extension; for, the broader the surface over which it spreads, the more -formidable will be the difficulty of its removal. Therefore it is that -they are now so zealously engaged, and they address you as men whose -'judgment has not fled to brutish beasts,' with arguments against the -evil itself and the weight of anguish it entails. Thus they have ever -done, and you tell me that the result has been to rivet the chains of -those in whose behalf they plead. As well might the sinner, whose guilt -is pointed out to him by the minister of God, resolve for that very -reason to plunge more deeply into sin." - -His voice became gradually calmer and calmer, until finally it sank into -the low notes of a solemn half-whisper. I held my breath in intense -excitement, but this transport was broken by the harsh tones of the -Virginian, who said: - -"All this is very ridiculous as well as unjust; for, at the South slaves -are regarded as property, and, inasmuch as our territories are acquired -by the common blood and treasure of the whole country, we have as much -right to locate in them with our property as you have with any of those -things which are recognized as property at the North. In your great love -of human rights you might take some thought of us; but the secret of -your action is jealousy of our advancement by the aid of slave-labor, -which you would have at the North if you needed it. We understand you -well, and we are heartily tired of your insulting and impudent cant -about the evils of the system of slavery. We want no more of it." - -Mr. Trueman, without noticing the insolence of Winston, continued in the -same impressive manner: - -"We do take much thought of you at the South, and hence it is that we -dislike to see you passively submitting to the continuance of an -institution so fraught with evil in itself, and very burdensome, as even -you have admitted. We, of the North, feel strongly bound to you by the -recollection of common dangers, struggles and trials; and, with an -honorable pride, we wish our whole nation to stand fair, and, so far as -possible, blameless before the world. We are doing all we can to remove -the evils of every kind which exist at the North; and, as we are not -sectional in our purposes, we would stimulate you to necessary action in -regard to your especial system. We know its evils from sore experience, -for it once prevailed amongst us; but, fortunately, we opened our eyes, -and gave ourselves a blessed riddance of it. The example is well worthy -of your imitation, but, 'pleased as you are with the possession', says -Blackstone, speaking of the origin and growth of property, 'you seem -afraid to look back to the means by which it was acquired, as if fearful -of some defect in your title; or, at best, you rest satisfied with the -decision of the laws in your favor, without examining the reason or -authority upon which those laws have been built.' To the eyes of the -nations, who regard us from far across the ocean, and who see us, as a -body, better than we see ourselves, slavery is the great blot that -obscures the disc of our Republic, dimming the effulgence of its -Southern half, as a partial eclipse darkens the world's glorious -luminary. It is, therefore, not alone upon the score of human rights in -general, but from a personal interest in our National character, that -the Abolitionists interfere. Various Congressional enactments have -confirmed the justice of these views, which they are endeavoring to -enforce by moral suasion (for they deprecate violence) upon the South. -Those enactments assume jurisdiction, to some extent at least, upon the -subject of slavery, having gone so far as to prohibit the continuance of -the slave-trade, denouncing it as piracy, and punishing with death those -who are in any way engaged in it. I have yet to learn that the South has -ever protested against this law, in which the Abolitionists see a strong -confirmation of their own just principles. Why should they not go a step -further, and forbid all traffic in slaves, such as is pursued among your -people? Why do not the States themselves interpose their power to put -down at once and forever, such nefarious business? This would be -productive of vastly more good than anything which Colonization -societies can effect." - -"Suppose, sir," began Mr. Winston, "we were to annul the present laws -regulating the manumission of slaves, and to abolish the institution -entirely from our midst; where would be the safety of our own white -race? There is great cause for the apprehension generally entertained, -of perpetual danger and annoyance, if they were permitted to remain -among us. They are there in large numbers, and, having once obtained -their freedom, with permission to reside where they now are, they would -seek to become 'a power in the State,' which would incite them, if -resisted, into fearful rebellion. These are contingencies which -sagacious statesmen have foreseen, and which they would be unable to -avert. Consequently, they had rather bear those ills they have, than fly -to others that they know not of." - -"How infelicitous," Mr. Trueman suddenly retorted, "is your quotation, -for, truly, you 'know not' that these anticipated consequences would -ensue; but 'motes they are to trouble the mind's eye.' Your sagacious -statesmen might more wisely employ their thoughts in contemplating the -more probable results of continuing your slaves in their present abject -condition. Far more reason is there to apprehend rebellion and -insurrection now, than the distant dangers you predict. Even this last -objection is vain, unsubstantial, and, at best, only speculative, -resorted to as an unction to mollify the sores of conscience. Some of -your eminent men have expressed a hope that the colored race might be -removed from the South, and from slavery, through the instrumentality of -Colonization, by which, it is expected, that they would eventually be -transported to Africa, and encouraged to establish governments for -themselves. This proposal is liable, and with more emphasis, to the -objection I advanced a while ago, when speaking of the laws which -practically discourage manumission, for, if it is a hardship (as I -contend it is) for them to be driven from their native State to one -strange and unfamiliar to them, it is increasing that severity to -require them to seek a home in Africa, whose climate is as uncongenial -to them as to us, and with whose institutions they feel as little -interest, or identity, as we do. Admit, for a moment, the practicability -of such a scheme. We should, soon after, be called upon to recognize -them as one of the nations of the earth, with whom we should treat as we -do now with the English, French, German, and other nations. I will -suggest to your Southern sages, who delight in speculations, that, in -the progress of years, they might desire, in imitation of some other -people, to accept the invitations we extend to the oppressed and unhappy -of the earth. What is there, in that case, to hinder them from -immigrating in large numbers? Could you distinguish between immigrants -of their class, and those who now settle upon our soil? Either you could -or you could not. If you could not so distinguish, you would in all -likelihood have them speedily back, in greater numbers than they come -from Green Erin, or Fader-land. Thus you would be reduced to almost the -same condition as general emancipation would bring about; but, if you -could, and did make the distinction, is it not quite likely that deadly -offence would be given to their government, which, added to their -already accumulated wrongs, would light up the fires of a more frightful -war than the intestine rebellion you have talked of; or than any that -has ever desolated this continent? Bethink yourselves of these things -amid your gloomy forebodings, and you will find them pregnant with -fearful issues. You will discover, too, the folly of longer maintaining -your burdensome system, and the wisdom of heeding whilst you may, the -counsel of the philanthropic, which urges you to just, generous, speedy, -universal emancipation. But I have fatigued you, and will stop; hoping -soon to hear that you have magnanimously redeemed the promise which I -had the gratification to hear at the commencement of our conversation." - -When Mr. Trueman paused, Mr. Winston sprang to his feet in a rage, -knocking over his chair in the excitement, and declaring that he had -most patiently listened to flimsy Abolition talk, in which there was no -shadow of argument, mere common cant; that he would advise Mr. Trueman -to be more particular in the dissemination of his dangerous and -obnoxious opinions; and, as to his own voluntary pledge, it was -conditional, and those conditions had not been complied with, and he did -not consider himself bound to redeem it. Mr. Trueman endeavored to calm -and soothe the hot-blooded Southerner; but his words had no effect upon -the illiberal man, whom he had so fairly demolished in argument. - -As they passed my hiding-place, _en route_ to their respective -apartments, I peeped out through a crevice in the door at them. It was -very easy to detect the calm, self-poised man, the thoughtful reasoner, -in the still, pale face and erect form of Trueman; whilst the red, -hot-flushed countenance, the quick, peering eye and audacious manner of -the other, revealed his unpleasant disposition and unsystematized mind. - -When the last echo of their retreating footsteps had died upon the ear, -I stole from my concealment, and ventured to my own quarters. Many new -thoughts sprang into existence in my mind, suggested by the conversation -to which I had listened. - -I venerated Mr. Trueman more than ever. No disciple ever regarded the -face of his master so reverently as I watched his countenance, when I -chanced to meet him in any part of the house. - - - - -CHAPTER XXX. - -THE MISDEMEANOR--THE PUNISHMENT--ITS CONSEQUENCE--FRIGHT. - - -The next day Miss Jane, observing my unusual thoughtfulness, said: - -"Come, now, Ann, you are not quite free. From the airs that you have put -on, one would think you had been made so." - -"What have I done, Miss Jane?" This was asked in a quiet tone, perhaps -not so obsequiously as she thought it should be. Thereupon she took -great offence. - -"How dare you, Miss, speak _to me_ in that tone? Take that," and she -dealt me a blow across the forehead with a long, limber whalebone, that -laid the flesh open. I was so stunned by it that I reeled, and should -have fallen to the floor, had I not supported myself by the bed-post. - -"Don't you dare to scream." - -I attempted to bind up my brow with a handkerchief. This she regarded as -affectation. - -"Take care, Miss Ann," she often prefixed the Miss when she was mad, by -way of taunting me; "give yourself none of those important airs. I'll -take you down a little." - -When Mr. Summerville entered, she began to cry, saying: - -"Husband, this nigger-wench has given me a great deal of impertinence. -Father never allowed it; now I want to know if you will not protect me -from such insults." - -"Certainly, my love, I'll not allow any one, white or black, to insult -you. Ann, how dare you give your mistress impudence?" - -"I did not mean it, Master William." I had thus addressed him ever since -his marriage. - -I attempted to relate the conversation that had occurred, wherein Miss -Jane thought I had been impudent, when she suddenly sprang up, -exclaiming: - -"Do you allow a negro to give testimony against your own wife?" - -"Certainly not." - -"Now, Mr. Summerville," she was getting angry with him, "I require you -to whip that girl severely; if you don't do it--why--" and she ground -her teeth fiercely. - -"I will have her whipped, my dear, but I cannot whip her." - -"Why can't you?" and the lady's eye flashed. - -"Because I should be injured by it. _Gentlemen_ do not correct negroes; -they hire others to do that sort of business." - -"Ah, well, then, hire some one who will do it well." - -"Come with me, Ann," he said to me, as I stood speechless with fear and -mortification. - -Seeing him again motion me to follow, I, forgetful of the injustice that -had been done me, and the honest resentment I should feel--forgetful of -everything but the humiliation to which they were going to subject -me--fell on my knees before Miss Jane, and besought her to excuse, to -forgive me, and I would never offend her again. - -"Don't dare to ask mercy of me. You know that I am too much like father -to spare a nigger." - -Ah, well I knew it! and vainly I sued to her. I might have known that -she rejoiced too much in the sport; and, had she been in the country, -would have asked no higher pleasure than to attend to it personally. A -negro's scream of agony was music to her ears. - -I governed myself as well as I could while I followed Mr. Summerville -through the halls and winding galleries. Down flights of steps, through -passages and lobbys we went, until at last we landed in the cellar. -There Mr. Summerville surrendered me to the care of a Mr. Monkton, the -bar-keeper of the establishment duly appointed and fitted for the office -of slave-whipping. - -"Here," said Mr. Summerville, "give this girl a good, genteel whipping; -but no cruelty, Monkton, and here is your fee;" so saying he handed him -a half-dollar, then left the dismal cellar. - -I have since read long and learned accounts of the gloomy, subterranean -cells, in which the cruel ministers of the Spanish Inquisition performed -their horrible deeds; and I think this cellar very nearly resembled -them. There it was, with its low, damp, vault-like roof; its unwholesome -air, earthen floor, covered with broken wine bottles, and oyster cans, -the debris of many a wild night's revel! There stood the monster -Monkton, with his fierce, lynx eye, his profuse black beard, and frousy -brows; a great, stalwart man, of a hard face and manner, forming no bad -picture of those wolfish inquisitors of cruel, Catholic Spain! - -Over this untempting scene a dim, waning lamp, threw its blue glare, -only rendering the place more hideous. - -"Now, girl, I am to lick you well. You see the half-dollar. Well, I'm to -git the worth of it out of your hide. Now, what would you think if I -didn't give you a single lick?" - -I looked him full in the face, and even by that equivocal light I had -power to discern his horrid purpose, and I quickly and proudly replied, - -"I should think you did your duty poorly." - -"And why?" - -"Because you engaged to do _the job_, and even received your pay in -advance; therefore, if you fail to comply with your bargain, you are not -trustworthy." - -"Wal, you're smart enough for a lawyer." - -"Well, attend to your business." - -"This is my business," and he held up a stout wagon-whip; "come, strip -off." - -"That is not a part of the contract." - -"Yes; but it's the way I always whips 'em." - -"You were not told to use me so, and I am not going to remove one -article of my clothing." - -"Yes, but you _shall_;" and he approached me, his wild eye glaring with -a lascivious light, and the deep passion-spot blazing on his cheek. - -"Girl, you've got to yield to me. I'll have you now, if it's only to -show you that I can." - -I drew back a few steps, and, seizing a broken bottle, waited, with a -deadly purpose, to see what he would do. He came so near that I almost -fancied his fetid breath played with its damnable heat upon my very -cheek. - -"You've got to be mine. I'll give you a fine calico dress, and a pretty -pair of ear-bobs!" - -This was too much for further endurance. What! must I give up the -angel-sealed honor of my life in traffic for trinkets? Where is the -woman that would not have hotly resented such an insult? - -I turned upon him like a hungry lioness, and just as his wanton hand was -about to be laid upon me, I dexterously aimed, and hurled the bottle -directly against his left temple. With a low cry of pain he fell to the -floor, and the blood oozed freely from the wound. - -As my first impression was that I had slain him, so was it my first -desperate impulse to kill myself; yet with a second thought came my -better intention, and, unlocking the door, I turned and left the gloomy -cell. I mounted the dust-covered steps, and rapidly threaded silent, -spider festooned halls, until I regained the upper courts. How beautiful -seemed the full gush of day-light to me! But the heavy weight of a -supposed crime bowed me to the earth. - -My first idea was to proceed directly to Mr. Summerville's apartment and -make a truthful statement of the affair. What he would do or have done -to me was a matter upon which I had expended no thought. My apprehension -was altogether for the safety of my soul. Homicide was so fearful a -thing, that even when committed in actual self-defence, I feared for the -justice of it. The Divine interrogatory made to Cain rang with painful -accuracy in my mental ear! "Am I my brother's keeper?" I repeated it -again and again, and I lived years in the brief space of a moment. Away -over the trackless void of the future fled imagination, painting all -things and scenes with a sombre color. - -The first recognizable person whom I met was Mr. Winston. I knew there -was but little to hope for from him, for ever since the argument between -himself and Mr. Trueman, he had appeared unusually haughty; and the -waiters said that he had become excessively overbearing, that he was -constantly knocking them around with his gold-headed cane, and swearing -that Kentucky slaves were almost as bad as Northern free negroes. - -Henry (who had become a _most dear friend of mine_) told me that Mr. -Winston had on one or two occasions, without the slightest provocation, -struck him severely over the head; but these things were pretty -generally done in the presence of Mr. Trueman, and for no higher object, -I honestly believe, than to annoy that pure-souled philanthropist. So I -was assured that he was not one to entrust with my secret, especially as -a great intimacy had sprung up between him and Miss Jane. I, therefore, -hastily passed him, and a few steps on met Mr. Trueman. How serene -appeared his chaste, marble face! Who that looked upon him, with his -quiet, reflective eye, but knew that an angel sat enthroned within his -bosom? Do not such faces help to prove the perfectibility of the race? -If, as the transcendentalists believe, these noble characters are only -types of what the _whole man_ will be, may we not expect much from the -advent of that dubious personage? - -"Mr. Trueman," I said, and my voice was clear and unfaltering, for -something in his face and manner exorcised all fear, "I have done a -fearful deed." - -"What, child?" he asked, and his eye was full of solicitude. - -I then gave him a hurried account of what had occurred in the cellar. -After a slight pause, he said: - -"The best thing for you to do will be to make instant confession to Mr. -Summerville. Alas! I fear it will go hard with you, for _you are a -slave_." - -I thanked him for the interest he had manifested in me, and passed on -to Miss Jane's room. I paused one moment at the door, before turning the -knob. What a variety of feelings were at work in my breast! Had I a -fellow-creature's blood upon my hands? I trembled in every limb, but at -length controlled myself sufficiently to enter. - -There sat Miss Jane, engaged at her crochet-work, and Master William -playing with the balls of cotton and silk in her little basket. - -"Well, Ann, I trust you've got your just deserts, a good whipping," said -Miss Jane, as she fixed her eyes upon me. - -Very calmly I related all that had occurred. Mr. Summerville sprang to -his feet and rushed from the room, whilst Miss Jane set up a series of -screams loud enough to reach the most distant part of the house. All my -services were required to keep her from swooning, or _affecting to -swoon_. - -The ladies from the adjoining rooms rushed in to her assistance, and -were soon busy chafing her hands, rubbing her feet, and bathing her -temples. - -"Isn't this terrible!" ejaculated one. - -"What _is_ the matter?" cried another. - -"Poor creature, she is hysterical," was the explanation of a third. - -I endeavored to explain the cause of Miss Jane's excitement. - -"You did right," said one lady, whose truly womanly spirit burst through -all conventionality and restraint. - -"What," said one, a genuine Southern conservative, "do you say it was -right for a slave to oppose and resist the punishment which her master -had directed?" - -"Certainly not; but it was right for a female, no matter whether white -or black, to resist, even to the shedding of blood, the lascivious -advances of a bold libertine." - -"Do you believe the girl's story?" - -"Yes; why not?" - -"I don't; it bears the impress of falsehood on its very face." - -"No," added another Kentucky true-blue, "Mr. Monkton was going to whip -her, and she resisted him. That's the correct version of the story, I'll -bet my life on it." - -To all of this aspersion upon myself, I was bound to be a silent -auditor, yet ever obeying their slightest order to hand them water, -cologne, &c. Is not this slavery indeed? - -When Mr. Summerville left the room, he hastily repaired to the bar, -where he made the story known, and getting assistance, forthwith went to -the cellar, Mr. Winston forming one of the party of investigation. His -Southern prejudices were instantly aroused, and he was ready "to do or -die" for the propogation of the "peculiar institution." - -The result of their trip was to find Monkton very feeble from the loss -of blood, and suffering from the cut made by the broken bottle, but with -enough life left in him for the fabrication of a falsehood, which was of -course believed, as he had a _white face_. He stated that he had -proceeded to the administration of the whipping, directed by my master; -that I resisted him; and finding it necessary to bind me, he was -attempting to do so, when I swore that I would kill him, and that -suiting the action to the word, I hurled the broken bottle at his -temples. - -When Mr. Summerville repeated this to Miss Jane, in my presence, stating -that it was the testimony that Monkton was prepared to give in open -court, for I was to be arrested, I could not refrain from uttering a cry -of surprise, and saying: - -"Mr. Monkton has misrepresented the case, as 'I can show.'" - -"Yes, but you will not be allowed to give evidence," said Master -William. - -"Will Mr. Monkton's testimony be taken?" I inquired. - -"Certainly, but a negro cannot bear witness against a white person." - -I said nothing, but many thoughts were troubling me. - -"You see, Ann, what your bad conduct has brought _you to_," said Miss -Jane. - -Again I attempted to tell the facts of the case, and defend myself, but -she interrupted me, saying: - -"Do you suppose I believe a word of that? I can assure you I do not, -and, moreover, I'm not going to spend my money to have a lawyer employed -to keep you from the punishment you so richly deserve. So you must -content yourself to take the public hanging or whipping in the jail -yard, which is the penalty that will be affixed to your crime." Turning -to Mr. Summerville, she added, "I think it will do Ann good, for it will -take down her pride, and make her a valuable nigger. She has been too -proud of her character; for my part, I had rather she had had less -virtue. I've always thought she was virtuous because she did not want us -to increase in property, and was too proud to have her children live in -bondage." - -I dared not make any remark; but there I stood in dread of the -approaching arrest, which came full soon. - -As I was sewing for Miss Jane, Mr. Summerville opened the door, and said -to a rough man, pointing to me-- - -"There's the girl." - -"Come along with me to jail, gal." - -How fearfully sounded the command. The jail-house was a place of terror, -and though I had in my brief life "supped full of horrors," this was a -new species of torture that I had hoped to leave untasted. - -Taking with me nothing but my bonnet, I followed Constable Calcraft down -stairs into the street. Upon one of the landings I met Henry, and I knew -from his kindly mournful glance, that he gave me all his compassion. - -"Good-bye, Ann," he said, extending his hand to me, "good-bye, and keep -of good cheer; the Lord will be with you." I looked at him, and saw that -his lip was quivering; and his dark eye glittered with a furtive tear. I -dared not trust my voice, so, with a grateful pressure of the hand, I -passed him by, keeping up my composure right stoutly. At the foot of the -stair I met Louise, who was weeping. - -"I believe you, Ann, we all believe you, and the Lord will make it -appear on the day of your trial that you are right, only keep up your -spirits, and read this," and she slipped a little pocket-Testament into -my hand, which was a welcome present. - -Now, I thought, the last trial is over. All the tender ones who love me -have spoken their comforting words, and I may resume my pride and -hauteur; but no--standing within the vestibule was the man whom I -reverenced above all others, Mr. Trueman. One effort more, and then I -might be calm; but before the sunshine of his kindliness the snow and -ice of my pride melted and passed away in showers of tears. The first -glance of his pitying countenance made me weep. I was weary and -heavy-laden, and, even as to a mortal brother, I longed to pour into his -ear the pent-up agony of my soul. - -"Poor girl," he said kindly, as he offered me his white and -finely-formed hand, "I believe you innocent; there is that in your -clear, womanly look, your unaffected utterance, that proves to me you -are worthy to be heard. Trust in God." - -Oh, can I ever forget the diamond-like glister of his blue eyes! and -_that tear_ was evoked from its fountain for my sorrow; even then I felt -a thrill of joy. We love to have the sympathy and confidence of the -truly great. I made no reply, in words, to Mr. Trueman, but he -understood me. - -Conducted by the constable, I passed through a number of streets, all -crowded with the busy and active, perhaps the _happy_. Ah, what a fable -that word seemed to express! I used to doubt every smiling face I saw, -and think it a _radiant lie_! but, since then, though in a subdued -sense, I have learned that mortals may be happy. - -We stopped, after a long walk, in front of a large building of Ionic -architecture, and of dark brown stone, ornamented by beautiful flutings, -with a tasteful slope of rich sward in front, adorned with a variety of -flowers and shrubbery. Through this we passed and reached the first -court, which was surrounded by a high stone-wall. Passing through a low -door-way, we stood on the first pave; here I was surrendered to the -keeping of the jailer, a man apparently devoid of generosity and -humanity. After hearing from Constable Calcraft an account of the crime -for which I was committed, he observed-- - -"A sassy, impudent, _on_ruly gal, I guess; we have plenty _sich_; this -will larn her a lessin. Come with me," he said, as he turned his -besotted face toward me. - -Through dirty, dark, filthy passages I went, until we reached a gloomy, -loathsome apartment, in which he rudely thrust me, saying-- - -"Thar's your quarters." - -Such a place as it was! A small room of six by eight, with a dirty, -discolored floor, over which rats and mice scampered _ad libitum_. One -miserable little iron grate let in a stray ray of daylight, only -revealing those loathsome things which the friendly darkness would have -concealed. Cowering in the corner of this wretched pen was a poor, -neglected white woman, whose face seemed unacquainted with soap and -water, and her hair tagged, ragged, and unused to comb or brush. She -clasped to her breast a weasly suckling, that every now and then gave a -sickly cry, indicative of the cholic or a heated atmosphere. - -"Poor comfort!" said the woman, as I entered, "poor comfort here, whare -the starved wretches are cryin' for ar. My baby has bin a sinkin' ever -sense I come here. I'd not keer much if we could both die." - -"For what are you to be tried?" - -"For takin' a loaf of bread to keep myself and child from starvin'." - -She then asked me for what I stood accused. I told her my story, and we -grew quite talkative and sociable, thereby realizing the old axiom, -"Misery loves company." - - * * * * * * * - -For several days I lingered on thus, diversifying the time only by -reading my Testament, the gift of Louise, and occasionally having a long -talk with my companion, whom I learned to address by the name of Fanny. -She was a woman of remarkably sensitive feelings, quick and warm in all -her impulses; just such a creature as an education and kindly training -would have made lovely and lovable; but she had been utterly -neglected--had grown up a complete human weed. - -Our meals were served round to us upon a large wooden drawer, as filthy -as dirt and grease could make it. The cuisine dashed our rations, a -slice of fat bacon and "pone" of corn bread to us, with as little -ceremony as though we had been dogs; and we were allowed one blanket to -sleep on. - -One day, when I felt more than usually gloomy, I was agreeably -disappointed, as the cumbersome door opened to admit my kind friend -Louise. The jailer remarked: - -"You may stay about a quarter of an hour, but no longer." - -"Thank you, sir," she replied. - -"This is very kind of you, Louise," for I was touched by the visit. - -"I wanted to see you, Ann; and look what I brought you!" She held a -beautiful bouquet to me. - -"Thank you, thank you a thousand times, this _is_ too kind," I said, as -I watered the lovely flowers with my tears. - -"Oh, they were sent to you," she answered, with a smile. - -"And who sent them?" - -"Why, Henry, of course;" and again she smiled. - -I know not why, but I felt the blood rushing warmly to my face, as I -bent my head very low, to conceal a confusion which I did not -understand. - -"But here is something that I did bring you," and, opening a basket, she -drew out a nice, tempting pie, some very delicious fruit cake, and white -bread. - -"I suppose your fare is miserable?" - -"Oh, worse than miserable." - -Fanny drew near me, and without the least timidity, stretched forth her -hand. - -"Oh, please give me some, only a little; I'm nearly starved?" - -I freely gave her the larger portion, for she could enjoy it. I had the -flowers, the blessed flowers, that Henry had sent, and they were food -and drink for me! - -Louise informed me that, since my arrest, she had cleared up and -arranged Miss Jane's room; and she thought it was Mr. Summerville's -intention to sell me after the trial. - -"Have you heard who will buy me?" I asked. - -"Oh, no, I don't suppose an offer has yet been made; nor do I know that -it is their positive intention to sell you; but that is what I judged -from their conversation." - -"If they get me a good master I am very willing to be sold; for I could -not find a worse home than I have now." - -"I expect if he sells you, it will be to a trader; but, keep up your -heart and spirits. Remember, 'sufficient for the day is the evil -thereof.' But I hear the sound of footsteps; the jailer is coming; my -quarter of an hour is out." - -"How came he to admit you?" - -"Oh, I know Mr. Trayton very well. I've washed for his wife, and she -owes me a little bill of a couple of dollars; so when I came here, I -said by way of a bait, 'Now, Mrs. Trayton, I didn't come to dun you, -I'll make you a present of that little bill;' then she and he were both -in a mighty good humor with me. I then said, 'I've got a friend here, -and I'd take it as a favor if you'd let me see her for a little while.'" - -"Mr. Trayton said:" - -"'Oh, that can't be--it's against the rules.'" - -"So his wife set to work, and persuaded him that he owed me a favor, and -he consented to let me see you for a quarter of an hour only. Before he -comes, tell me what message I am to give Henry for you. I know he will -be anxious to hear." - -Again I felt the blood tingling in my veins, and overspreading my face. -I began to play with my flowers, and muttered out something about -gratitude for the welcome present, a message which, incoherent as it -was, her woman's wit knew to be sincere and gracious. After a few -moments the jailer came, saying: - -"Louise, your time is up." - -"I am ready to go," and she took up her basket. After bidding me a kind -adieu she departed, carrying with her much of the sunshine which her -presence had brought, but not all of it, for she left with me a ray or -so to illumine the darkened cell of recollection. There on my lap lay -the blooming flowers, _his_ gift! Flowers are always a joy to us--they -gladden and beautify our outer and every-day life; they preach us a -sermon of beauty and love; but to the weary, lonely captive, in his -dismal cell, they are particularly beautiful! They speak to him in a -voice which nothing else can, of the glory of the sun-lit world, from -which he is exiled. Thanks to God for flowers! Rude, and coarse, and -vile must be the nature that can trample them with unhallowed feet! - -There I sat toying with them, inhaling their mystic odor, and -luxuriating upon the delicacy of their ephemeral beauty. All flowers -were dear to me; but these were particularly precious, and wherefore? Is -there a single female heart that will not divine "the wherefore"? You, -who are clad in satin, and decked with jewels, albeit your face is as -white as snow, cannot boast of emotions different from ours? Feeling, -emotion, is the same in the African and the white woman? We are made of -the same clay, and informed by the same spirit. - -The better portion of the night I sat there, sadly wakeful, still -clutching those flowers to my breast, and covering them with kisses. - -The heavy breathing of my companion sounded drowsily in my ear, yet -never wooed me to a like repose. Thus wore on the best part of the -night, until the small, shadowy hours, when I sank to a sweet dream. I -was wandering in a rich garden of tropical flowers, with Henry by my -side! Through enchanted gates we passed, hand in hand, singing as we -went. Long and dreamily we loitered by low-gurgling summer fountains, -listening to the lulling wail of falling water. Then we journeyed on -toward a fairy flower-palace, that loomed up greenly in the distance, -which ever, as we approached it, seemed to recede further. - -I awoke before we reached the floral palace, and I am womanly enough to -confess, that I felt annoyed that the dream had been broken by the cry -of Fanny's babe. I puzzled myself trying to read its import. Are there -many women who would have differed from me? Yet I was distressed to -find Fanny's little boy-babe very sick, so much so as to require -medical attention; but, alas! she was too poor to offer remuneration to -a doctor, therefore none was sent for; and, as the child was attacked -with croup, it actually died for the want of medical attention. And this -occurred in a community boasting of its enlightenment and Christianity, -and in a city where fifty-two churches reared their gilded domes and -ornamented spires, in a God-fearing and God-serving community, proud of -its benevolent societies, its hospitals, &c. In what, I ask, are these -Christians better than the Pharisees of old, who prayed long, well, and -much, in their splendid temples? - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI. - -THE DAY OF TRIAL--ANXIETY--THE VOLUNTEER COUNSEL--VERDICT OF THE JURY. - - -The day of my trial dawned as fair and bright as any that ever broke -over the sinful world. It rose upon my slumber mildly, and without -breaking its serenity. I slept better on the night preceding the trial, -than I had done since my incarceration. - -I knew that I was friendless and alone, and on the eve of a trial -wherein I stood accused of a fearful crime; that I was defenceless; yet -I rested my cause with Him, who has bidden the weary and heavy-laden to -come unto Him, and He will give them rest. Strong in this consciousness, -I sank to the sweetest slumber and the rosiest dreams. Through my mind -gracefully flitted the phantom of Henry. - -When Fanny woke me to receive my unrelished breakfast, she said: - -"You've forgot that this is the day of trial; you sleep as unconsarned -as though the trial was three weeks off. For my part, now that the baby -is dead, I don't kere much what becomes of me." - -"My cause," I replied, "is with God. To His keeping I have confided -myself; therefore, I can sleep soundly." - -"Have you got any lawyer?" - -"No; I am a slave, and my master will not employ one." - -After a few hours we heard the sound of a bell, that announced the -opening of court. The jailer conducted me out of the jail yard into the -Court House. It was the first time I had ever seen the interior of a -court-room, when the court was in full session, and I was not very much -edified by the sight. - -The outside of the building was very tasteful and elegant, with most -ornate decorations; but the interior was shocking. In the first place it -was unfinished, and the bald, unplastered walls struck me as being -exceedingly comfortless. Then the long, redundant cobwebs were gathered -in festoons from rafter to rafter, whilst the floor was fairly -tesselated with spots of tobacco-juice, which had been most dexterously -ejected from certain _legal_ orifices, commonly known as the _mouths of -lawyers_, who, for want of opportunity to _speak_, resorted to chewing. - -The judge, a lazy-looking old gentleman, sat in a time-worn arm-chair, -ready to give his decision in the case of the Commonwealth _versus_ Ann, -slave of William Summerville; and seeming to me very much as though his -opinion was made up without a hearing. - -And there, ranged round his Honor, were the practitioners and members of -the bar, all of them in seedy clothes, unshorn and unshaven. Here and -there you would find a veteran of the bar, who claimed it as his -especial privilege to outrage the King's or the President's English and -common decency; and, as a matter of course, all the younger ones were -aiming to imitate him; but, as it was impossible to do that in ability, -they succeeded, to admiration, in copying his ill-manners. - -Two of them I particularly noticed, as I sat in the prisoner's dock, -awaiting the "coming up of my case." One of them the Court frequently -addressed as Mr. Spear, and a very pointless spear he seemed;--a little, -short, chunky man, with yellow, stiff, bristling hair, that stood out -very straight, as if to declare its independence of the brain, and away -it went on its owner's well-defined principle of "going it on your own -hook." He had a little snub of a nose that possessed the good taste to -turn away in disgust from its neighbor, a tobacco-stained mouth of no -particular dimensions, and, I should judge from the sneer of the said -nose, of no very pleasant odor; little, hard, flinty, grizzly-gray eyes, -that seemed to wink as though they were afraid of seeing the truth. -Altogether, it was the most disagreeably-comic phiz that I remember ever -to have seen. To complete the ludicrous picture, he was a -self-sufficient body, quite elate at the idea of speaking "in public on -the stage." His speech was made up of the frequent repetition of "my -client claims" so and so, and "may it please your Honor," and "I'll call -the attention of the Court to the fact," and such like phrases, but -whether his client was guilty of the charge set forth in the indictment, -he neither proved nor disproved. - -The other individual whom I remarked, was a great, fat, flabby man, -whose flesh (like that of a rhinoceros) hung loosely on the bones. He -seemed to consider personal ease, rather than taste, in the arrangement -of his toilet; for he appeared in the presence of the court in a pair of -half-worn slippers, stockings "down-gyved," a shirt-bosom much spotted -with tobacco-juice, and a neck-cloth loosely adjusted about his red, -beefish throat. His little watery blue eye reminded me forcibly of -skimmed milk; whilst his big nose, as red as a peony, told the story -that he was no advocate of the Maine liquor law, and that he had "_voted -for license_." - -He was said, by some of the bystanders, to have made an excellent speech -adverse to his client, and in favor of the side against which he was -employed. - -"Hurrah for litigation," said an animadverter who stood in proximity to -me. After awhile, and in due course of docket, my case came up. - -"Has she no counsel?" asked the judge. - -After a moment's pause, some one answered, "No; she has none." - -I felt a chill gathering at my heart, for there was a slight movement in -the crowd; and, upon looking round, I discovered Mr. Trueman making his -way through the audience. After a few words with several members of the -bar and the judge, he was duly sworn in, and introduced to the Court as -Mr. Trueman, a lawyer from Massachusetts, who desired to be admitted as -a practitioner at this bar. Thus duly qualified, he volunteered his -services in my defence. The look which I gave him came directly from my -overflowing heart, and I am sure spoke my thanks more effectual than -words could have done. But he gave me no other recognition than a faint -smile. - -As the case began, my attention was arrested. The jury was selected -without difficulty; for, as none of the panel had heard of the case, the -counsel waived the privilege of challenging. After the reading of the -indictment, setting forth formally "an assault upon Mr. Monkton, with -intent to kill, by one Ann, slave of William Summerville," the -Commonwealth's attorney introduced Mr. Monkton himself as the only -witness in the case. - -In a very minute and evidently pre-arranged story, he proceeded to -detail the circumstances of a violent and deadly assault, which seemed -to impress the jury greatly to my prejudice. When he had concluded, the -prosecutor remarked that he had no further evidence, and proposed to -submit the case, without argument, to the jury, as Mr. Trueman had no -witnesses in my favor. To this proposal, however, Mr. Trueman would not -accede; and so the prosecutor briefly argued upon the testimony and the -law applicable to it. Then Mr. Trueman rose, and a thrill seemed to run -through the audience as his tall, commanding form stood proud and erect, -his mild saint-like eyes glowing with a fire that I had never seen -before. He began by endeavoring to disabuse the minds of the jury of the -very natural ill-feeling they might entertain against a slave, supposed -to have made an attack upon the life of a white man; reviewed at length -the distinctions which are believed, at the South, to exist between the -two races; and dwelt especially upon those oppressive enactments which -virtually place the life of a slave at the mercy of even the basest of -the white complexion. Passing from these general observations, he -examined, with scrutiny the prepared story of Mr. Monkton, showing it to -be a vile fabrication of defeated malice, flatly contradictory in -essential particulars, and utterly unworthy of reliance under the wise -maxim of the law, that "being false in one thing, it was false in all." -In conclusion, he made a stirring appeal to the jury, exhorting them to -rescue this feeble woman from the foul machinations which had been -invented for her ruin; to rebuke, by their righteous verdict, this -swift and perjured witness; and to vindicate before the world the honor -of their dear old Commonwealth, which was no less threatened by this -ignominious proceeding than the safety of his poor and innocent client. - -The officers of the Court could scarcely repress the applause which -succeeded this appeal. - -"Finally, gentlemen," resumed Mr. Trueman, "permit me to take back to my -Northern home the warm, personal testimony to your love of justice, -which, unbiased by considerations of color, is dealt out to high and -low, rich and poor, white and black, with equal and impartial hands. -Disarm, by your verdict in this instance, the reproach by which Kentucky -may hereafter be assailed when her enemies shall taunt her with -injustice and cruelty. It has long been said, at the North, that 'the -South cannot show justice to a slave.' Now, gentlemen, 'tis for you, in -the character of sworn jurors, to disprove, by your verdict, this -oft-repeated, and, alas! in too many instances, well-authenticated -charge. And I conjure you as men, as Christians, as jurors, to deal -justly, kindly, humanely with this poor uncared-for slave-woman. As you -are men and fathers, slave-holders even, show her justice, and, if need -be, mercy, as in like circumstances you would have these dispensed to -your own daughters or slaves. She is a woman, it may be an uncultured -one; this place, this Court, is strange to her. There she sits alone, -and seemingly friendless, in the dock. Where was her master? Had he -prepared or engaged an advocate? No, sir; he left her helpless and -undefended; but that God, alike the God of the Jew and the Gentile, has, -in the hour of her need, raised up for her a friend and advocate. And be -ye, Gentlemen of the Jury, also the friend of the neglected female! By -all the artlessness of her sex, she appeals to you to rescue her name -from this undeserved aspersion, and her body from the tortures of the -lash or the halter. Mark, with your strongest reprobation, that lying -accuser of the powerless, who, thwarted in the attempt to violate one -article in the Decalogue, has here, and in your presence, accomplished -the outrage of another, invoking upon his soul, with unholy lips, the -maledictions with which God will sooner or later overwhelm the perjurer. -Look at him now as he cowers beneath my words. His blanched cheek and -shrivelling eye denote the detected villain. He dares not, like an -honest, truth-telling man, face the charges arrayed against him. No, -conscious guilt and wicked passion are bowing him now to the earth. Dare -he look me full in the eye? No; for he fears lest I, with a lawyer's -skill, should draw out and expose the malicious fiend that has urged him -on to the persecution of the innocent and defenceless. Send him from -your midst with the brand of severest condemnation, as an example of the -fate which awaits a false witness in the Courts of the Commonwealth of -Kentucky. Restore to this prisoner the peace of mind which has been -destroyed by this prosecution. Thus you will provide for yourselves a -source of consolation through all the future, and I shall thank heaven -with my latest breath for the chance that threw me, a stranger, in your -city to-day, and led me to this temple of justice to urge your minds to -the right conclusion." - -He sat down amid such thunders of applause as incurred the censure of -the judge. When order was restored, the Commonwealth's attorney rose to -close the case. He said "he could see no reason for doubting the -veracity of his witness whom the opposition had so strenuously -endeavored to impeach. For his own part, he had long known Mr. Monkton, -and had always regarded him as a man of truth. The present was the first -attempt at his impeachment that he had ever heard of; and he felt -perfectly satisfied that Mr. Monkton would survive it. Had he been the -character which his adversary had described, it might have been possible -to find some witness who could invalidate his testimony. No one, -however, has appeared; and I take it that no one exists. The gentleman -would do well to observe a little more caution before he attacks so -recklessly the reputation of a man." - -Mr. Trueman rising, requested the prosecutor to indulge him for one -moment. - -"Certainly," was the reply. - -"I desire the jury and the Court to remember," said Mr. Trueman, "that I -made no attack upon the _reputation_ of the witness in this case. -Doubtless _that_ is all which it is claimed to be. I freely concede it; -but the earnest prosecutor must permit me to distinguish between -_reputation_ and _character_. I did assail the character of the man, but -not hypothetically or by shrewd conjectures; 'out of his own mouth I -condemned him.' This is not the first instance of crime committed by a -man, who, up to the period of transgression, stood fair before the -world. The gentleman's own library will supply abundant proofs of the -success of strong temptation in its encounters with even _established -virtue_; and I care not if this willing witness could bolster up his -reputation with the voluntary affidavits of hosts of friends; his own -testimony, to-day, would have still produced and riveted the conviction -of his really base character. I thank the gentleman for his indulgence." - -The prosecutor continuing, endeavored to show that the testimony was, -upon its face, entirely credible, and ought to have its weight with the -jury. He labored hard to reconcile its many and material contradictions, -reiterated his own opinion of the witness as a man of truth; and, with -an inflammatory warning against the _Abolition counsel_, who, he said, -was perhaps now "meditating in our midst some sinister design against -the peculiar institution of the South," he ended his fiery harangue. - -When he had taken his seat, Mr. Trueman addressed the Court as follows: - -"Before the jury retire, may it please your Honor, as the case is of a -serious nature, and as we have no witness for the defence, I would ask -permission merely to repeat the version of the circumstances of this -case detailed to me by the prisoner at the bar. Such a statement, I am -aware, is not legal evidence; but if, in your clemency, you would permit -it to go to the jury simply for what it is worth, the course of justice -I am sure would by no means be impeded." - -The judge readily consented to this request, and Mr. Trueman rehearsed -my story, as narrated in the foregoing pages. - -The Commonwealth's attorney then rejoined with a few remarks. - -After a retirement of a few minutes, the jury returned with a verdict of -"guilty as charged in the indictment," ordering me to receive two -hundred lashes on my bare back, not exceeding fifty at a time. I was -then remanded to jail to await the execution of my sentence. - -Very gloomy looked that little room to me when I returned to it, with a -horrid crime of which, Heaven knows, I was guiltless, affixed to my -name, and the prospect of a cruel punishment awaiting me. Who may tell -the silent, unexpressed agony that I there endured? Certain I am, that -the nightly stars and the old pale moon looked not down upon a more -wretched heart. There I sat, looking ever and again at the stolid Fanny, -who had been sentenced to the work-house for a limited time. Since the -death of her infant she had lost all her loquacity, and remained in a -kind of dreamy, drowsy state, between waking and sleeping. - -Through how many scenes of vanished days, worked the plough-share of -memory, upturning the fresh earth, where lay the buried seeds of some -few joys! And, sometimes, a sly, nestling thought of Henry hid itself -away in the most covert folds of my heart. His melancholy bronze face -had cut itself like a fine cameo, on my soul. The old, withered flowers, -which he had sent, lay carefully concealed in a corner of the cell. -Their beauty had departed like a dim dream; but a little of their -fragrance still remained despite decay. - -One day, after the trial, I was much honored and delighted by a visit -from no less a personage than Mr. Trueman himself. - -I was overcome, and had not power to speak the thanks with which my -grateful heart ran over. He kindly pitied my embarrassment, and relieved -me by saying, - -"Oh, I know you are thankful to me. I only wish, my good girl, that my -speech had rescued you from the punishment you have to suffer. Believe -me, I deeply pity you; and, if money could avert the penalty which I -know you have not merited, I would relieve you from its infliction; but -nothing more can be done for you. You must bear your trouble bravely." - -"Oh, my kind, noble friend!" I passionately exclaimed, "words like these -would arm me with strength to brave a punishment ten times more severe -than the one that awaits me. Sympathy from you can repay me for any -suffering. That a noble white gentleman, of distinguished talents, -should stoop from his lofty position to espouse the cause of a poor -mulatto, is to me as pleasing as it is strange." - -"Alas, my good girl, you and all of your wronged and injured race are -objects of interest and affection to me. I would that I could give you -something more available than sympathy: but these Southerners are a -knotty people; their prejudices of caste and color grow out, unsightly -and disgusting, like the rude excrescences upon a noble tree, eating it -away, and sucking up its vital sap. These Western people are of a noble -nature, were it not for their sectional blemishes. I never relied upon -the many statements which I have heard at the North, taking them as -natural exaggerations; but my sojourn here has proved them to be true." - -I then told him of the discussion that I had overheard between him and -Mr. Winston. - -"Did you hear that?" he asked with a smile. "Winston has been very cool -toward me ever since; yet he is a man with some fine points of -character, and considerable mental cultivation. This one Southern -feeling, or rather prejudice, however, has well-nigh corrupted him. He -is too fiery and irritable to argue; but all Southerners are so. They -cannot allow themselves to discuss these matters. Witness, for instance, -the conduct of their Congressional debaters. Do they reason? Whenever a -matter is reduced to argumentation, the Southerner flies off at a -tangent, resents everything as personal, descends to abuse, and thus -closes the debate." - -I ventured to ask him some questions in relation to Fred Douglas; to all -of which he returned satisfactory answers. He informed me that Douglas -had once been a slave; that he was now a man of social position; of -very decided talent and energy. "I know of no man," continued Mr. -Trueman, "who is more deserving of public trust than Douglas. He -conducts himself with extreme modesty and propriety, and a quiet dignity -that inclines the most fastidious in his favor." - -He then cited the case of Miss Greenfield (_the_ black swan), showing -that my race was susceptible of cultivation and refinement in a high -degree. - -Thus inspired, I poured forth my full soul to him. I told him how, in -secret, I had studied; how diligently I had searched after knowledge; -how I longed for the opportunity to improve my poor talents. I spoke -freely, and with a degree of nervous enthusiasm that seemed to affect -him. - -"Ann," he said, and large tears stood in his eyes, "it is a shame for -you to be kept in bondage. A proud, aspiring soul like yours, if once -free to follow its impulses, might achieve much. Can you not labor to -buy yourself? At odd times do extra work, and, by your savings, you may, -in the course of years, be enabled to buy yourself." - -"My dear sir, I've no 'odd times' for extra work, or I would gladly -avail myself of them. Lazy I am not; but my mistress requires all my -time and labor. If she were to discover that I was working, even at -night for myself, she would punish me severely." - -I said this in a mournful tone; for I felt that despair was my portion. -He was silent for awhile; then said, - -"Well, you must do the best you can. I would that I could advise you; -but now I must leave. A longer stay would excite suspicion. You heard -what they said the other day about Abolitionists." - -I remembered it well, and was distressed to think that he had been -abused on my account. - -With many kind words he took his leave, and I felt as if the sunshine -had suddenly been extinguished. - -During his entire visit poor Fanny had slept. She lay like one in an -opium trance. For hours after his departure she remained so, and much -time was left me for reflection. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII. - -EXECUTION OF THE SENTENCE--A CHANGE--HOPE. - - -On the last and concluding day of the term of the court, the jailer -signified to me that the constable would, on the morrow, administer the -first fifty lashes; and, of course, I passed the night in great -trepidation. - -But the morning came bright and clear, and the jailer, accompanied by -Constable Calcraft, entered. - -"Come, girl," said the latter, "I have to execute the sentence upon -you." - -Without one word, I followed him into the jail yard. - -"Strip yourself to the waist," said the constable. - -I dared not hesitate, though feminine delicacy was rudely shocked. With -a prayer to heaven for fortitude, I obeyed. - -Then, with a strong cowhide, he inflicted fifty lashes (the first -instalment of the sentence) upon my bare back; each lacerating it to the -bone. I was afterwards compelled to put my clothes on over my raw, -bloody back, without being allowed to wash away the clotted gore; for, -upon asking for water to cleanse myself, I was harshly refused, and -quickly re-conducted to the cell, where, wounded, mortified, and -anguish-stricken, I was left to myself. - -Oh, God of the world-forgotten Africa! Thou dost see these things; Thou -dost hear the cries which daily and nightly we are sending up to Thee! -On that lonely, wretched night Thou wert with me, and my prison became -as a radiant mansion, for angels cheered me there! Glory to God for the -cross which He sent me; for it led me on to Him. - -Poor Fanny, after her sentence was pronounced, was soon sent to the -work-house; so I was alone. The little Testament which Louise had given -me, was all the company that I desired. Its rich and varied words were -as manna to my hungry soul; and its blessed promises rescued me from a -dreadful bankruptcy of faith. - -Subsequently, and at three different times, I was led forth to receive -the remainder of my punishment. - -After the last portion was given, I was allowed to go to the kitchen of -the jail and wash myself and dress in some clean clothes, which Miss -Jane had sent me. I was then conducted by the constable to the hotel. - -Miss Jane met me very distantly, saying-- - -"I trust you are somewhat humbled, Ann, and will in future be a better -nigger." - -I was in but a poor mood to take rebukes and reproaches; for my flesh -was perfectly raw, the intervals between the whippings having been so -short as not to allow the gashes even to close; so that upon this, the -final day, my back presented one mass of filth and clotted gore. I was -then, as may be supposed, in a very irritable humor, but a slave is not -allowed to have feeling. It is a privilege denied him, because his skin -is black. - -I did not go out of Miss Jane's room, except on matters of business, -about which she sent me. I would, then, go slipping around, afraid of -meeting Henry. I did not wish him to see me in that mutilated condition. -I saw Louise in Miss Jane's room; but there she merely nodded to me. -Subsequently we met in a retired part of the hall, and there she -expressed that generous and friendly sympathy which I knew she so warmly -cherished for me. - -Somehow or other she had contrived to insinuate herself wondrously into -Miss Jane's good graces; and all her influence she endeavored to use in -my favor. - -In this private interview she told me that she would induce Miss Jane -to let me sleep in her room; and she thought she knew what key to take -her on. - -"If," added she, "I get you to my apartment, I will care for you well. I -will wash and dress your wounds, and render you every attention in my -power." - -I watched, with admiration, her tactics in managing Miss Jane. That -evening when I was seated in an obscure corner of the room, Miss Jane -was lolling in a large arm-chair, playing with a bouquet that had been -sent her by a gentleman. This bouquet had been delivered to her, as I -afterwards learned, by Louise. Miss Jane had grown to be fashionable -indeed; and had two favorite beaux, with whom she interchanged notes, -and Louise had been selected as a messenger. - -On this occasion, the wily mulatto came up to her, rather familiarly, I -thought, and said-- - -"Ah, you are amusing yourself with the Captain's flowers! I must tell -him of it. Dear sakes! but it will please him;" she then whispered -something to her, at which both of them laughed heartily. - -After this Miss Jane was in a very decided good humor, and Louise fussed -about the apartment pretty much as she pleased. At length, throwing open -the window, she cried out-- - -"How close the air is here! Why, Mrs. St. Lucian, the fashionable, -dashing lady who occupied this room just before you, Mrs. Somerville, -wouldn't allow three persons to be in it at a time; and her servant-girl -always slept in my room. By the way, that just reminds me how impolite -I've been to you; do excuse me, and I will be glad to relieve you by -letting Ann go to my room of nights." - -"Oh, it will trouble you, Louise." - -"Don't talk or think of troubling me; but come along girl," she said, -turning to me. - -"Go with Louise, Ann," added Miss Jane, as she perceived me hesitate, -"but come early in the morning to get me ready for breakfast." - -Happy even for so small a favor as this, I followed Louise to her room. -There I found everything very comfortable and neat. A nice, downy bed, -with its snowy covering; a bright-colored carpet, a little bureau, -washstand, clock, rocking-chair, and one or two pictures, with a few -crocks of flowers, completed the tasteful furniture of this apartment. - -All this, I inly said, is the arrangement and taste of a mulatto in the -full enjoyment of her freedom! Do not her thrift and industry disprove -the oft-repeated charge of indolence that is made upon the negro race? - -She seemed to read my thoughts, and remarked, "You are surprised, Ann, -to see my room so nice! I read the wonder in your face. I have marked it -before, in the countenances of slaves. They are taught, from their -infancy up, to regard themselves as unfit for the blessings of free, -civilized life; and I am happy to give the lie, by my own manner of -living, to this rude charge." - -"How long have you been free, Louise, and how did you obtain your -freedom?" - -"It is a long story," she answered; "you must be inclined to sleep; you -need rest. At some other time I'll tell you. Here, take this arm-chair, -it is soft; and your back is wounded and sore; I am going to dress it -for you." - -So saying, she left the room, but quickly returned with a basin of warm -water and a little canteen of grease. She very kindly bade me remove my -dress, then gently, with a soft linten-rag, washed my back, greased it, -and made me put on one of her linen chemises and a nice gown, and giving -me a stimulant, bade me rest myself for the night upon her bed, which -was clean, white, and tempting. - -When she thought I was soundly sleeping, she removed from a little -swinging book-shelf a well-worn Bible. After reading a chapter or so, -she sank upon her knees in prayer! There may be those who would laugh -and scoff at the piety of this woman, because of her tawny complexion; -but the Great Judge, to whose ear alone her supplication was made, -disregards all such distinctions. Her soul was as precious to Him, as -though her complexion had been of the most spotless snow. - -On the following morning, whilst I was arranging Miss Jane's toilette, -she said to me, in rather a kind tone: - -"Ann, Mr. Summerville wants to sell you, and purchase a smaller and -cheaper girl for me. Now, if you behave yourself well, I'll allow you to -choose your own home." - -This was more kindness than I expected to receive from her, and I -thanked her heartily. - -All that day my heart was dreaming of a new home--perhaps a kind, good -one! On the gallery I met Mr. Trueman (I love to write his name). -Rushing eagerly up to him, I offered my hand, all oblivious of the wide -chasm that the difference of race had placed between us; but, if that -thought had occurred to me, his benignant smile would have put it to -flight. Ah, he was the true reformer, who illustrated, in his own -deportment, the much talked-of theory of human brotherhood! He, with all -his learning, his native talent, his social position and legal -prominence, could condescend to speak in a familiar spirit to the -lowliest slave, and this made me, soured to harshness, feel at ease in -his presence. - -I told him that I was fast recovering from the effects of my whipping. I -spoke of Louise's kindness, &c. - -"I am to be sold, Mr. Trueman; I wish that you would buy me." - -"My good girl, if I had the means I would not hesitate to make the -purchase, and instantly draw up your free papers; but I am, at the -present, laboring under great pecuniary embarrassments, which deny me -the right of exercising that generosity which my heart prompts in this -case." - -I thanked him, over and over again, for his kindness. I felt not a -little distressed when he told me that he should leave for Boston early -on the following day. In bidding me adieu, he slipped, very modestly, -into my hand a ten-dollar bill, but this I could not accept from one to -whom I was already heavily indebted. - -"No, my good friend, I cannot trespass so much upon you. Already I am -largely your debtor. Take back this money." I offered him the bill, but -his face colored deeply, as he replied: - -"No, Ann, you would not wound my feelings, I am sure." - -"Not for my freedom," I earnestly answered. - -"Then accept this trifling gift. Let it be among the first of your -savings, as my contribution, toward the purchase-money for your -freedom." Seeing that I hesitated, he said, "if you persist in refusing, -you will offend me." - -"Anything but that," I eagerly cried, as I took the money from that -blessed, charity-dispensing hand. - -And this was the last I saw of him for many years; and, when we again -met, the shadow of deeper sorrows was resting on my brow. - - * * * * * - -Several weeks had elapsed since Miss Jane's announcement that I was to -be sold, and I had heard no more of it. I dared not renew the subject to -her, no matter from what motive, for she would have construed it as -impudence. But my time was now passing in comparative pleasure, for Miss -Jane was wholly engrossed by fun, frolic, and dissipation. Her mornings -were spent in making or receiving fashionable calls, and her afternoons -were devoted to sleep, whilst the night-time was given up entirely to -theatres, parties, concerts, and such amusements. Consequently my -situation, as servant, became pretty much that of a sinecure. Oh, what -delightful hours I passed in Louise's room, reading! I devoured -everything in the shape of a book that fell into my hands. I began to -improve astonishingly in my studies. It seemed that knowledge came to me -by magic. I was surprised at the rapidity of my own advancement. In the -afternoons, Henry had a good deal of leisure, and he used to steal round -to Louise's room, and sit with us upon a little balcony that fronted it, -and looked out upon a beautiful view. There lay the placid Ohio, and -just beyond it ran the blessed Indiana shore! "Why was I not born on -that side of the river?" I used to say to Henry, as I pointed across the -water. "Or why," he would answer, as his dark eye grew intensely black, -"were our ancestors ever stolen from Africa?" - -"These are questions," said the more philosophical Louise, "that we must -not propose. They destroy the little happiness we already enjoy." - -"Yes, you can afford to talk thus, Louise, for you are free; but we, -poor slaves, know slavery from actual experience and endurance," said -Henry. - -"I have had my experience too," she answered, "and a dark one has it -been." - -The evening on which this conversation occurred, was unusually fair and -calm. I shall ever remember it. There we three sat, with mournful -memories working in our breasts; there each looking at the other, -murmuring secretly, "Mine is the heaviest trouble!" - -"Louise," I said, "tell us how you broke the chains of bondage." - -"I was," said she, after a moment's pause, "a slave to a family of -wealth, residing a few miles from New Orleans. I am, as you see, but -one-third African. My mother was a bright mulatto. My father a white -gentleman, the brother of my mistress. Louis De Calmo was his name. My -mother was a housemaid, and only fifteen years of age at my birth. She -was of a meek, quiet disposition, and bore with patience all her -mistress' reproaches and harshness; but, when alone with my father, she -urged him to buy me, and he promised her he would; still he put her off -from time to time. She often said to him that for herself she did not -care; but, for me, she was all anxiety. She could not bear the idea of -her child remaining in slavery. All her bright hopes for me were -suddenly brought to a close by my father's unexpected death. He was -killed by the explosion of a steamboat on the lower Mississippi, and his -horribly-mangled body brought home to be buried. My mother loved him; -and, in her grief for his death, she had a double cause for sorrow. By -it her child was debarred the privilege of freedom. I was but nine years -of age at the time, but I well remember her wild lamentation. Often she -would catch me to her heart, and cry out, 'if you could only die I -should be so happy;' but I did not. I lived on and grew rapidly. We had -a very kind overseer, and his son took a great fancy to me. He taught me -to read and write. I was remarkably quick. When I was but fifteen, I -recollect mistress fancied, from my likely appearance and my delicate, -gliding movements, that she would make a dining-room servant of me. I -was taken into the house, and thus deprived of the instructions which -the overseer's son had so faithfully rendered me. I have often read half -of the night. Now I approach a melancholy part of my story. Master -becoming embarrassed in his business, he must part with some of his -property. Of course the slaves went. My mother was numbered among the -lot. I longed and begged to be sold with her; but to this mistress would -not consent,--she considered me too valuable as a house-girl. Well, -mother and I parted. None can ever know my wretchedness, unless they -have suffered a similar grief, when I saw her borne weeping and -screaming away from me. I have never heard from her since. Where she -went or into whose hands she fell, I never knew. She was sold to the -highest bidder, under the auctioneer's hammer, in the New Orleans -market. I lived on as best I could, bearing an aching heart, whipped for -every little offence, serving, as a bond-woman, her who was, by nature -and blood, _my Aunt_. After a year or so I was sold to James Canfield, a -bachelor gentleman in New Orleans, and I lived with him, as a wife, for -a number of years. I had several beautiful children, though none lived -to be more than a few months old. At the death of this man I was set -free by his will, and three hundred dollars were bequeathed me by him. I -had saved a good deal of money during his life-time, and this, with his -legacy, made me independent. I remained in the South but a short time. -For two years after his death I sojourned in the North, sometimes hiring -myself out as chambermaid, and at others living quietly on my means; but -I must work. In activity I stifle memory, and for awhile am happy, or, -at least, tranquil." - -After this synopsis of her history, Louise was silent. She bent her -head upon her hand, and mused abstractedly. - -"I think, Henry, you are a slave," I said, as I turned my eye upon his -mournful face. - -"Yes, and to a hard master," was the quick reply; "but he has promised -me I shall buy myself. I am to pay him one thousand dollars, in -instalments of one hundred dollars each. Three of these instalments I -have already paid." - -"Does he receive any hire for your services at this hotel?" - -"Oh yes, the proprietor pays him one hundred and fifty dollars a year -for me." - -"How have you made the money?" - -"By working at night and on holidays, going on errands, and doing little -jobs for gentlemen boarding in the house. Sometimes I get little -donations from kind-hearted persons, Christmas gifts in money, &c. All -of it is saved." - -"You must work very hard." - -"Oh yes, it's very little sleep I ever get. How old would you think me?" - -"Thirty-five," I answered, as I looked at his furrowed face. - -"That is what almost every one says; yet I am only twenty-five. All -these wrinkles and hard spots are from work." - -"You ought to rest awhile," I ventured to suggest. - -"Oh, I'll wait until I am my own master; then I'll rest." - -"But you may die before that time comes." - -"So I may, so I may," he repeated despondingly. "All my family have died -early and from over-work. Sometimes I think freedom too great a blessing -for me ever to realize." - -He brushed a tear from his eye with the back of his hand. I looked at -him, so young and energetic, yet lonely. Noble and handsome was his -face, despite the lines of care and labor. What wonder that a soft -feeling took possession of my heart, particularly when I remembered how -he had gladdened my imprisonment with kind messages and the gift of -flowers. I did but follow an irrepressible and spontaneous impulse, when -I said with earnestness, - -"Do not work so hard, Henry." - -He looked me full in the face. Why did my eye droop beneath that warm, -inquiring gaze; and why did he ask so low, in a half whisper: - -"Should I die who will grieve for me?" - -And did not my uplifted glance tell him who would? We understood each -other. Our hearts had spoken, and what followed may easily be guessed. -Evening after evening we met upon that balcony to pledge our souls in -earnest vows. Henry's eye grew brighter; he worked the harder; but his -pile of money did not increase as it had done. Many a little present to -me, many a rare nosegay, that was purchased at a price he was not able -to afford, put off to a greater distance his day of freedom. Like a -green, luxuriant spot in the wide desert of a lonely life, seems to me -the memory of those hours. On Sunday evenings, when his labor was over, -which was generally about eight o'clock, we walked through the city, and -on moonlight nights we strayed upon the banks of the Ohio, and planned -for the future. - -Henry was to buy himself, then go North, and labor in some hotel, or at -whatever business he could make the most money; then he would return to -buy me. This was one of our plans; but as often as we talked, we made a -new one. - -"Oh, we shall be so happy, Ann," he would exclaim. - -Then I would repeat the often-asked question, "Where shall we live?" - -Sometimes we decided upon New York city; then a village in the State of -New York; but I think Henry's preference was a Canadian town. Idle -speculators that we were, we seldom adhered long to our preference for -any one spot! - -"At least, dear," he used to say, in his encouraging way, "we will hunt -a home; and, no matter where we find it, we can make it a happy one if -we are together." - -And to this my heart gave a warm echo. I was beginning to be happy; for -imagination painted joys in the future, and the present was not all -mournful, for Henry was with me! The same roof covered us. Twenty times -a-day I met him in the dining-room, hall, or in the lobby, and he was -always with me in the evening. - -Slaves as we were, I've often thought as we wandered beneath the golden -light of the stars, that, for the time being, we were as happy as -mortals could be. Young first-love knit the air in a charmed silver mist -around us; and, hand in hand, we trod the wave-washed shore, always with -our eyes turned toward the North, the bourne whither all our thoughts -inclined. - -"Does not the north star point us to our future home?" Henry frequently -asked. I love to recall this one sunny epoch in my life. For months, not -an unpleasant thing occurred. - -Immediately after my trial, Monkton left the city, and went, as I -understood, south. Miss Jane was busied with fashion and gayety. Mr. -Summerville was engaged at his business, and every one whom I saw was -kind to me. So I may record the fact that for a while I was happy! - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII. - -SOLD--LIFE AS A SLAVE--PEN--CHARLES' STORY--UNCLE PETER'S TROUBLE--A -STAR PEEPING FORTH FROM THE CLOUD. - - -Whilst the hours thus rosily slided away, and I dreamed amid the verdure -of existence, the syren charmed me wisely, indeed, with her beautiful -promises. Poor, simple-hearted, trusting slaves! We could not see upon -what a rocking bridge our feet were resting, how slippery and -unsubstantial was the flowery declivity whereon we stood. There we -reposed in the gentle light of a happy trance; we saw not the clouds, -dark and tempest-charged, that were rising rapidly to hide the stars -from our view. - -One Sunday afternoon, Henry having finished his work much earlier than -usual, and done some little act whereby the good will of his temporary -master (the keeper of the hotel) was propitiated, and Miss Jane and Mr. -Summerville having gone out, I willingly consented to his proposal to -take a walk. We accordingly wandered off to a beautiful wood, just -without the city limits, a very popular resort with the negroes and -poorer classes, though it was the only pretty green woodland near the -city. Yet, because the "common people and negroes" (a Kentucky phrase) -went there, it was voted vulgar, and avoided by the rich and refined. -One blessing was thus given to the poor! - -Henry and I sought a retired part of the grove, and, seating ourselves -on an old, moss-grown log, we talked with as much hope, and indulged in -as rosy dreams, as happier and lordlier lovers. For three bright hours -we remained idly rambling through the flower-realm of imagination; but, -as the long shadows began to fall among the leaves, we prepared to -return home. - -That night when I assisted Miss Jane in getting ready for bed, I -observed that she was unusually gloomy and petulant. I could do nothing -to please her; she boxed my ears repeatedly; stuck pins in me, called me -"detestable nigger," &c. Even the presence of Louise failed to restrain -her, and I knew that something awful had happened. - -For two or three days this cloud that hung about her deepened and -darkened, until she absolutely became unendurable. I often found her -eyes red and swollen, as though she had spent the entire night in -weeping. - -Mr. Summerville was gloomy and morose, never saying much, and always -speaking harshly to his wife. - -At length the explosion came. One morning he said to me, "gather up your -clothes, Ann, and come with me; I have sold you." - -Though I was stricken as by a thunderbolt, I dared not express my -surprise, or even ask who had bought me. All that I ventured to say was, - -"Master William, I have a trunk." - -"Well, shoulder it yourself. I'm not going to pay for having it taken." - -Though my heart was wrung I said nothing, and, lifting up my trunk, -beneath the weight of which I nearly sank, I followed Master William out -of the house. - -"Good-bye, Miss Jane," I said. - -"Good-bye, and be a good girl," she replied, kindly, and my heart almost -softened toward her; for in that moment I felt as if deserted by every -faculty. - -"Come on, Ann, come on," urged Master William; and I mechanically -obeyed. - -In the cross-hall I met Louise, who exclaimed, "Why, Ann, where are you -going?" - -"I don't know, Louise, I'm sold." - -"Sold! Who's bought you?" - -"I don't know--Master William didn't tell me." - -"Who's bought her, Mr. Summerville?" - -"The man to whom I sold her," he answered, with a laugh. - -"But who is he?" persisted Louise, without noticing the joke. - -"Well, Atkins, a negro-trader down here, on Second street." - -"Good gracious!" she cried out; then, turning to me, said, "does Henry -know it?" - -"I have not seen him." She darted off from us, and we walked on. I hoped -that she would not see Henry, for I could not bear to meet him. It would -dispossess me of the little forced composure that I had; but, alas! for -the fulfilment of my hopes! in the lower hall, with a countenance full -of terror, he stood. - -"What are you going to do with Ann, Mr. Summerville?" he inquired. - -"I have sold her to Atkins, and am now taking her to the pen." - -Alas! though his life, his blood, his soul cried out against it, he -dared not offer any objection or entreaty; but oh, that hopeless look of -brokenness of heart! I see it now, and "it comes over me like the raven -o'er the infected house." - -"I'll take your trunk round for you, Ann, to-night. It is too heavy for -you," and so saying, he kindly removed it from my shoulder. This little -act of kindness was the added drop to the already full glass, and my -heart overflowed. I wept heartily. His tender, "don't cry, Ann," only -made me weep the more; and when I looked up and saw his own eyes full of -tears, and his lip quivering with the unspoken pang, I felt (for the -slave at least) how wretched a possession is life! - -Master William cut short this parting interview, by saying, - -"Never mind that trunk, Henry, Ann can carry it very well." - -And, as I was about to re-shoulder it, Henry said, - -"No, Ann, you mustn't carry it. I'll do it for you to-night, when my -work is over. She is a woman, Mr. Summerville, and it's heavy for her; -but it will not be anything for me." - -"Well, if you have a mind to, you may do it; but I haven't any time to -parley now, come on." - -Henry pressed my hand affectionately, and I saw the tears roll in a -stream down his bronzed cheeks. I did not trust myself to speak; I -merely returned the pressure of his hand, and silently followed Master -William. - -Through the streets, up one and across another, we went, until suddenly -we stopped in front of a two-story brick house with an iron fence in -front. Covering a small portion of the front view of the main building, -an office had been erected, a plain, uncarpeted room, from the door of -which projected a sheet-iron sign, advertising to the passers-by, -"negroes bought and sold here." We walked into this room, and upon the -table found a small bell, which Mr. Summerville rang. In answer to this, -a neatly-dressed negro boy appeared. To Master William's interrogatory, -"Is Mr. Atkins in?" he answered, most obsequiously, that he was, and -instantly withdrew. In a few moments the door opened, and a heavy man -about five feet ten inches entered. He was of a most forbidding -appearance; a tan-colored complexion, with very black hair and whiskers, -and mean, watery, milky, diseased-looking eyes. He limped as he walked, -one leg being shorter than the other, and carried a huge stick to assist -his ambulations. - -"Good morning, Mr. Atkins." - -"Good morning, sir." - -"Here is the girl we were speaking of yesterday." - -"Well," replied the other, as he removed a lighted cigar from his mouth, -"she is likely enough. Take off yer bonnet, girl, let me look at yer -eyes. They are good; open your mouth--no decayed teeth--all sound; hold -up your 'coat, legs are good, some marks on 'em--now the back--pretty -much and badly scarred. Well, what's the damage?" - -"Seven hundred, cash down. You can recommend her as a first-rate house -and lady's maid." - -"What's your name, girl?" - -"Ann," I replied. - -"Ann, go within," he added, pointing to the door through which he had -entered. - -I turned to Mr. Summerville, saying, - -"Good-bye, Master William. I wish you well." - -"Good-bye, Ann," and he extended his hand to me; "I hope Mr. Atkins will -get you a good home." - -Dropping a courtesy and a tear, I passed through the door designated by -Mr. Atkins, and stood within the pen. Here I was met by the mulatto who -had answered the bell. - -"Has you bin bought, Miss?" - -"Yes, Mr. Atkins just bought me." - -"Why did your Masser sell you?" - -"I don't know." - -"Oh, that's what the most of 'em says. It 'pears so quare ter me for a -Masser to sell good sarvants; but I guess you'll soon git a home; fur -you is 'bout the likeliest yaller gal I ever seed. Now, thim rale black -'uns hardly ever goes off here. We has to send 'em down river, or let -'em go at a mighty low price." - -"How often do you have sales?" - -"Oh, we don't have 'em at all. That's we don't have public 'uns. We -sells 'em privately like; but we buys up more; and when we gits a large -number, we ships 'em down de river." - -Wishing to cut short his garrulity, I asked him to show me the room -where I was to stay. - -"In here, wid de rest of 'em," he said, as he opened the door of a large -shed-room, where I found some ten or twelve negroes, women and men, -ranged round on stools and chairs, all neatly dressed, some of them -looking very happy, others with down-cast, sorrow-stricken countenances. - -One bright, gold-colored man, with long, silky black hair, and raven -eyes, full of subdued power, stood leaning his elbow against the mantel. -His melancholy face and pensive attitude struck a responsive feeling, -and I turned with a sisterly sentiment toward him. - -I have always been of a taciturn disposition, shunning company; but this -man impressed me so favorably, he seemed the very counterpart of myself, -that I forgot my usual reserve, and, after a few moments' investigation -of my companions, the faces of most of whom were unpleasant to me, I -approached him and inquired-- - -"Have you been long here?" - -"Only a few days," he answered, as he lifted his mournful eyes towards -mine, and I could see from their misty light, that they were dimmed by -tears. - -"Are you sold?" I asked. - -"Oh yes," and he shuddered terribly. - -I did not venture to say more; but stood looking at him, when, suddenly -he turned to me, saying, - -"I know that you are sold." - -"Yes," I replied, with that strong sort of courage that characterized -me. - -"You take it calmly," he said; "have you no friends?" - -"You do not talk like one familiar with slavery, to speak of a slave's -having friends." - -"True, true; but I have--oh, God!--a wife and children, and from them I -was cruelly torn, and--and--and I saw my poor wife knocked flat upon the -floor, and because I had the manhood to say that it was wrong, they tied -me up and slashed me. All this is right, because my skin is darker than -theirs." - -What a fearful groan he gave, as he struck his breast violently. - -"The bitterness of all this I too have tasted, and my only wonder is, -that I can live on. My heart will not break." - -"Mine has long since broken; but this body will not die. My poor -children! I would that they were dead with their poor slave-mother." - -"Why did your master sell you?" - -"Because he wanted _to buy a piano for his daughter_," and his lip -curled. - -To gratify the taste of _his_ child, that white man had separated a -father from his children, had recklessly sundered the holiest ties, and -broken the most solemn and loving domestic attachments; and to such -heathenism the public gave its hearty approval, because his complexion -was a shade or so darker than Caucasians. Oh, Church of Christ! where is -thy warning voice? Is not this a matter, upon the injustice of which thy -great voice should pronounce a malison? - -"My name is Charles, what is yours?" - -"Ann." - -"Well, Ann," he resumed, "I like your face; you are the only one I've -seen in this pen that I was willing to talk with. You have just come. -Tell me why were you sold?" - -In a few concise words I told him my story. He seemed touched with -sympathy. - -"Poor girl!" he murmured, "like all the rest of our tribe, you have -tasted of trouble." - -I talked with him all the morning, and we both, I think, learned what a -relief it is to unclose the burdened heart to a congenial, listening -spirit. - -When we were summoned out to our dinner, I found a very bountiful and -pretty good meal served up. It is the policy of the trader to feed the -slaves well; for, as Mr. Atkins said, "the fat, oily, smooth, cheerful -ones, always sold the best;" and, as this business is purely a -speculation, they do everything, even humane things, for the furtherance -of their mercenary designs. I had not much appetite, neither had -Charles, as was remarked by some of the coarser and more abject of our -companions; and I was pained to observe their numerous significant winks -and blinks. One of them, the old gray mouse of the company, an ancient -"Uncle Ned," who had taken it pretty roughly all his days, and who being -of the lower order of Epicureans, was, perhaps, happier at the pen than -he had ever been. And this fellow, looking at me and Charley, said, - -"They's in lub;" ha! ha! ha! went round the circle. I noticed Charley's -brows knitting severely. I read his thoughts. I knew that he was -thinking of his poor wife and of his fatherless children, and inwardly -swearing unfaltering devotion to them. - -Persuasively I said to him, "Don't mind them. They are scarcely -accountable." - -"I know it, I know it," he bitterly replied, "but I little thought I -should ever come to this. Sold to a negro-trader, and locked up in a pen -with such a set! I've always had pride; tried to behave myself well, and -to make money for my master, and now to be sold to a trader, away from -my wife and children!" He shook his head and burst into tears. I felt -that I had no words to console him, and I ventured to offer none. - -I managed, by aid of conversation with Charley, to pass the day -tolerably. There may be those of my readers who will ask how this could -be. But let them remember that I had never been the pampered pet, the -child of indulgence; but that I was born to the ignominious heritage of -American slavery. My feelings had been daily, almost hourly, outraged. -This evil had not fallen on me as the _first_ misfortune, but as one of -a series of linked troubles "long drawn out." So I was comparatively -fitted for endurance, though by no means stoical; for a certain -constitutional softness of temperament rendered me always susceptible of -anguish to a very high degree. At length evening drew on--the beautiful -twilight that was written down so pleasantly in my memory; the time that -had always heralded my re-union with Henry. Now, instead of a sweet -starlight or moonlight stroll, I must betake myself to a narrow, -"cribbed, cabined, and confined" apartment, through which no truant ray -or beam could force an entrance! How my soul sickened over the -recollections of lovelier hours! Whilst I moodily sat in one corner of -the room, hugging to my soul the thought of him from whom I was now -forever parted, a sound broke on my ear, a sound--a music-sound, that -made my nerves thrill and my blood tingle; 'twas the sound of Henry's -voice. I heard him ask-- - -"Where is she? let me speak to her but a single word;" and how that -mellow voice trembled with the burden of painful emotion! Eagerly I -sprang forward; reserve and maidenly coyness all forgotten. My only wish -was to lay my weary head upon that brave, protecting breast--weep, ay, -and die there! "Oh, for a swift death," I frantically cried, as I felt -his arms about me, while my head was pillowed just above his warm and -loving heart. I felt its manly pulsations as with a soft lullaby they -seemed hushing me to the deep, eternal sleep, which I so ardently -craved! Better, a thousand times, for death to part us, than the white -man's cruelty! So we both thought. I read his secret wish in the -hopeless, vacant, but still so agonized look, that he bent upon me. For -one moment, the other slaves huddled together in blank amazement. This -was to them "a show," as "uncle Ned" subsequently styled it. - -"I've brought your trunk, Ann; Mr. Atkins ordered me to leave it -without; though you'll get it." - -"Thank you, Henry; it is of small account to me now: yet there are in it -some few of your gifts that I shall always value." - -"Oh, Ann, don't, pray don't talk so mournfully! Is there no hope? Can't -you be sold somewhere in the city? I have got about fifty dollars now in -money. I'd stop buying myself, and buy you; make my instalments in -fifties or hundreds, as I could raise it; but I spoke to a lawyer about -it, and he read the law to me, showing that I, as a slave, couldn't be -allowed to hold property; and there is no white man in whom I have -sufficient confidence, or who would be willing to accommodate me in this -way. Mine is a deplorable case; but I'm going to see what can be done. -I'll look about among the citizens, to see if some of them will not buy -you; for I cannot be separated from you. It will kill me; it will, it -will!" - -"Oh, don't, Henry, don't! for myself I can stand much; but when I think -of _you_." - -He caught me passionately to his breast; and, in that embrace, he seemed -to say, "_They shall not part us!_" - -He seated himself on a low stool beside me, with one of my hands clasped -in his, and thus, with his tender eyes bent upon me, such is the -illusion of love, I forgot the terror by which I was surrounded, and -yielded myself to a fascination as absorbing as that which encircled me -in the grove on that memorable Sunday evening. - -"Why, Henry, is this you?" and a strong hand was laid upon his -shoulder. Looking up, I beheld Charley. - -"And is this you, Charles Allen?" asked the other. - -"_Yes, this is me._ I dare say you scarcely expected to find me here, -where I never thought I should be." - -At this I was reminded of the significant ejaculation that Ophelia makes -in her madness, "Lord, we know what we are, but we know not what we may -be!" - -"I am sold, Henry," continued Charles, "sold away from my poor wife and -children;" his voice faltered and the big tears rolled down his cheeks. - -"I see from your manner toward Ann, that she is or was expected to be -your wife." - -"Yes, she was pledged to be." - -"_Yes, and is_," I added with fervor. At this, Henry only pressed my -hand tightly. - -"Yet," pursued Charles, "she is taken from you." - -"_She is_," was the brief and bitter reply. - -"Now, Henry Graham, are we men? and do we submit to these things?" - -"Alas!" and the words came through Henry's set teeth, "we are _not_ men; -we are only chattels, property, merchandise, _slaves_." - -"But is it right for us to be so? I feel the high and lordly instincts -of manhood within me. Must I conquer them? Must I stifle the eloquent -cry of Nature in my breast? Shall I see my wife and children left behind -to the mercy of a hard master, and willingly desert them simply because -another man says that, in exchange for this sacrifice of happiness and -hope, _his daughter_ shall play upon Chickering's finest piano?" - -Heavens! can I ever forget the princely air with which he uttered these -words! His swarthy cheek glowed with a beautiful crimson, and his rich -eye fairly blazed with the fire of a seven-times heated soul, whilst the -thin lip curled and the fine nostril dilated, and the whole form towered -supremely in the majesty of erect and perfect manhood! - -"Hush, Charley, hush," I urged, "this is no place for the expression of -such sentiments, just and noble as they may be." - -Again Henry pressed my hand. - -"It may be imprudent, Ann, but I am reckless now. They have done the -worst they can do. I defy the sharpest dagger-point. My breast is open -to a thousand spears. They can do no more. But how can you, Henry, thus -supinely sit by and see yourself robbed of your life's treasure? I -cannot understand it. Are you lacking in manliness, in courage? Are you -a coward, a _slave_ indeed?" - -"Do not listen to him; leave now, Henry, dear, dear Henry," I implored, -as I observed the singular expression of his face. "Go now, dearest, -without saying another word; for my sake go. You will not refuse me?" - -"No, I will not, dear Ann; but there is a fire raging in my veins." - -"Yes, and Charley is the incendiary. Go, I beg you." - -With a long, fond kiss, he left me, and it was well he did, for in a -moment more Mr. Atkins came to give the order for retiring. - -I found a very comfortable mattress and covering, on the floor of a -good, neatly-carpeted room, which was occupied by five other women. One -of them, a gay girl of about fifteen, a full-blooded African, made her -pallet close to mine. I had observed her during the day as a garrulous, -racketty sort of baggage, that seemed contented with her situation. She -was extremely neat in her dress; and her ebony skin had a rich, oily, -shiny look, resembling the perfect polish of Nebraska blacking on an -exquisite's boot. Partly from their own superiority, but chiefly from -contrast with her complexion, shone white as mountain snow, a regular -row of ivory teeth. Her large flabby ears were adorned by huge -wagon-wheel rings of pinch-beck, and a cumbersome strand of imitation -coral beads adorned her inky throat, whilst her dress was of the -gaudiest colors, plaided in large bars. Thus decked out, she made quite -a figure in the assemblage. - -"Is yer name Ann?" she unceremoniously asked. - -"Yes," was my laconic reply. - -"Mine is Lucy; but they calls me Luce fur short." - -No answer being made, she garrulously went on: - -"Was that yer husband what comed to see you this evenin'?" - -"No." - -"Your brother?" - -"No." - -"Your cousin?" - -"Neither." - -"Well, he's too young-lookin' fur yer father. Mought he be yer uncle?" - -"No." - -"Laws, then he mus' be yer sweetheart!" and she chuckled with mirth. - -I made no answer. - -"Why don't you talk, Ann?" - -"I don't feel like it." - -"You don't? well, that's quare." - -Still I made no comment. Nothing daunted, she went on: - -"Is yer gwine down the river with the next lot?" - -"I don't know;" but this time I accompanied my reply with a sigh. - -"What you grunt fur?" - -I could not, though so much distressed, resist a laugh at this singular -interrogatory. - -"Don't yer want to go South? I does. They say it's right nice down dar. -Plenty of oranges. When Masser fust sold me, I was mightily 'stressed; -den Missis, she told me dat dar was a sight of oranges down dar, and dat -we didn't work any on Sundays, and we was 'lowed to marry; so I got -mightily in de notion of gwine. You see Masser Jones never 'lowed his -black folks to marry. I wanted to marry four, five men, and he wouldn't -let me. Den we had to work all day Sundays; never had any time to make -anyting for ourselves; and I does love oranges! I never had more an' a -quarter of one in my life." - -Thus she wandered on until she fell off to sleep; but the leaden-winged -cherub visited me not that night. My eye-lids refused to close over the -parched and tear-stained orbs. I dully moved from side to side, changed -and altered my position fifty times, yet there was no repose for me. - - - "Not poppy nor mandragora - Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, - Could then medicine me to that sweet sleep - Which I owed yesterday." - - -I saw the dull gray streak of the morning beam, as coldly it played -through the gratings of my room. There, scattered in dismal confusion -over the floor, lay the poor human beings, for whose lives, health and -happiness, save as conducing to the pecuniary advantage of the -trafficker, no thought or care was taken. I rose hastily and adjusted my -dress, for I had not removed it during the night. The noise of my rising -aroused several of the others, and simultaneously they sprang to their -feet, apprehensive that they had slept past the prescribed hour for -rising. Finding that their alarm was groundless, and that they were by -the clock an hour too early, they grumbled a good deal at what they -thought my unnecessary awaking. I would have given much to win to my -heart the easy indifference as to fate, which many of them wore like a -loose glove; but there I was vulnerable at every pore, and wounded at -each. What a curse to a slave's life is a sensitive nature! - -That day closed as had the preceding, save that at evening Henry did not -come as before. I wandered out in the yard, which was surrounded by a -high brick-wall, covered at the top with sharp iron spikes, to prevent -the escape of slaves. Through this barricaded ground I was allowed to -take a little promenade. There was not a shrub or green blade of grass -to enliven me; but my eyes lingered not upon the earth. They were turned -up to the full moon, shining so round and goldenly from the purple -heaven, and, scattered sparsely through the fields of azure, were a few -stars, looking brighter and larger from their scarcity. - -"Will my death-hour ever come?" I asked myself despairingly. "Have I -not tasted of the worst of life? Is not the poisoned cup drained to its -last dregs?" - -I fancied that I heard a voice answer, as from the clouds, - -"No, there are a few bitterer drops that must yet be drunk. Press the -goblet still closer to your lips." - -I shuddered coldly as the last tones of the imagined voice died away -upon the soft night air. - -"Is that," I cried, "a prophet warning? Comes it to me now that I may -gird my soul for the approaching warfare? Let me, then, put on my helmet -and buckler, and, like a life-tired soldier, rush headlong into the -thickest of the fight, praying that the first bullet may prove a friend -and drink my blood!" - -Yet I shrank, like the weakest and most fearful of my race, when the -distant cotton-fields rose upon my mental view! There, beneath the heat -of a "hot and copper sky," I saw myself wearily tugging at my assigned -task; yet my fear was not for the physical trouble that awaited me. Had -Henry been going, "down the river" would have had no terror for me; but -I was to part from joy, from love, from life itself! Oh, why, why have -we--poor bondsmen and bondswomen--these fine and delicate sensibilities? -Why do we love? Why are we not all coarse and hard, mere human beasts of -burden, with no higher mental or moral conception, than obedience to the -will or caprice of our owners? - -Night closed over this second weary day. And thus passed on many days -and nights. I did some plain sewing by way of employment, and at the -command of a mulatto woman, who was the kept mistress of Atkins, and -therefore placed in authority over us. Many of the women were hired out -to residents of the city on trial, and if they were found to be -agreeable and good servants, perhaps they were purchased. Before sending -them out, Mr. Atkins always called them to him, and, shaking his cane -over their heads, said, - -"Now, you d----d hussy, or rascal (as they chanced to be male or female) -if you behave yourselves well, you'll find a good home; but you dare to -get sick or misbehave, and be sent back to me, and I'll thrash you in an -inch of your cursed life." - -With this demoniacal threat ringing in their ears, it is not likely that -the poor wretches started off with any intention of bad conduct. - -We constantly received accessions to our number, but never acquisitions, -for the poor, ill-fed, ill-kept wretches that came in there, "sold (as -Atkins said) for a mere song," were desolate and revolting to see. - -Charley found one or two old books, that he seemed to read and re-read; -indifferent novels, perhaps, that served, at least, to keep down the -ravening tortures of thought. I lent him my Testament, and he read a -great deal in it. He said that he had one, but had left it with his -wife. He was a member of the Methodist Church; had gone on Sunday -afternoons to a school that had been established for the benefit of -colored people, and thus, unknown to his master, had acquired the first -principles of a good education. He could read and write, and was in -possession of the rudiments of arithmetic. He told me that his wife had -not had the opportunities he had, and therefore she was more deficient, -but he added, "she had a great thirst for knowledge, such as I have -never seen excelled, and rarely equalled. I have known her, after the -close of her daily labors, devote the better portion of the night to -study. I gave her all the instruction I could, and she was beginning to -read with considerable accuracy; but all that is over, past and gone -now." And again he ground his teeth fiercely, and a wild, lurid light -gathered in his eye. - -This man almost made me oblivious of my own grief, in sympathy for his. -I did all I could by "moral suasion," as the politicians say, to soften -his resentment. I bade him turn his thoughts toward that religion which -he had espoused. - -"I have no religion for this," he would bitterly say. - -And in truth, I fear me much if the heroism of saints would hold out on -such occasions. There, fastened to that impassioned husband's heart, -playing with its dearest chords, was the fang-like hand of the white -man! Oh, slow tortures! in comparison to which that of Prometheus was -very pleasure. There is no Tartarus like that of wounded, agonized -domestic love! Far away from him, in a lonely cabin, he beheld his -stricken wife and all his "pretty chickens" pining and unprotected. - -Slowly, after a few days, he relapsed into that stony sort of despair -that denies itself the gratification of speech. The change was very -painfully visible to me, and I tried, by every artifice, to arouse him; -but I had no power to wake him. - - - "Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak, - Whispers the o'erfraught heart, and bids it break." - - -And soon learning this, I left him, a remorseless prey to that "rooted -sorrow" of the brain. - - * * * * * * * - -One day, as we all sat in the shed-room, engaged at our various -occupations, we were roused by a noise of violent weeping, and something -like a rude scuffle just without the door, when suddenly Atkins entered, -dragging after him, with his hand close about his throat, a poor negro -man, aged and worn, with a head white as cotton. - -"Oh, please, Masser, jist let me go back, an' tell de ole 'ooman -farewell, an' I won't ax for any more." - -"No, you old rascal, you wants to run away. If you say another word -about the old voman, I'll beat the life out of you." - -"Oh lor', oh lor', de poor ole 'ooman an' de boys; oh my ole heart will -bust!" and, sobbing like a child, the old man sank down upon the floor, -in the most abandoned grief. - -"Here, boys, some of you git the fiddle and play, an' I warrant that old -fool will be dancin' in a minnit," said Atkins in his unfeeling way. - -Of course this speech met with the most signal applause from "de boys" -addressed. - -I watched the expression of Charles' face. It was frightful. He sat in -one corner, as usual, with an open book in his hand. From it he raised -his eyes, and, whilst the scene between Atkins and the old negro was -going on, they flashed with an expression that I could not fathom. His -brows knit, and his lip curled, yet he spoke no word. - -When Atkins withdrew, the old man lay there, still weeping and sobbing -piteously. I went up to him, kindly saying, - -"What is the matter, old uncle?" - -The sound of a kind voice aroused him, and looking up through his -streaming tears, he said, - -"Oh, chile, I's got a poor ole 'ooman dat lives 'bout half mile in de -country. Masser fotch me in town to-day, an' say he was agwine to hire -me fur a few weeks. Wal, I beliebed him, bekase Masser has bin hard run -fur money, an' I was willin' to hope him 'long, so I consented to be -hired in town fur little while, and den go out an' see de ole 'ooman an' -de boys Saturday nights. Wal, de fust thing I knowed when I got to town -I was sold to a trader. Masser wouldn't tell me hisself; but, when I got -here, de gemman what I thought I was hired to, tole me dat Masser Atkins -had bought me; an' I wanted to go back an' ask Masser, but he laughed -an' say 'twant no use, Masser done gone out home. Oh, lor'! 'peared like -dere was nobody to trus' to den. I begged to go an' say good-bye; but -dey 'fused me dat, an' Masser Atkins 'gan to swear, an' he struck me -'cross de head. Oh, I didn't tink Masser wud do me so in my ole age!" - -I ask you, reader, if for a sorrow like this there was any word of -comfort? I thought not, and did not dare try to offer any. - -"Will scenes like these ever cease?" I fretfully asked, as I turned to -Charles. - -"Never!" was the bitter answer. - -This old man talked constantly of his little woolly-headed boys. When -telling of their sportive gambols, he would smile, even whilst the tears -were flowing down his cheeks. - -He often had a crowd of slaves around him listening to his talk of -"wife and children," but I seldom made one of the number, for it -saddened me too much. I knew that he was telling of joys that could -never come to him again. - -On one of these occasions, when uncle Peter, as he was called, was deep -in the merits of his conversation, I was sitting in the corner of the -room sewing, when Luce came running breathlessly up to me, with a bunch -of beautiful flowers in her hand. - -"Oh, Ann," she exclaimed, "dat likely-lookin' yallow man, dat cum to see -you, an' fotch yer trunk de fust night yer comed here, was passin' by, -an' I was stanin' at de gate; an' he axed me to han' dis to you." - -And she gave me the bouquet, which I took, breathing a thousand -blessings upon the head of my devoted Henry. - -I had often wondered why Louise had never been to see me. She knew very -well where I was, and access to me was easy. But I was not long kept in -suspense, for, on that very night she came, bringing with her a few -sweetmeats, which I distributed among those of my companions who felt -more inclined to eat them than I did. - -"I have wondered, Louise, why you did not come sooner." - -"Well, the fact is, Ann, I've been busy trying to find you a home. I -couldn't bear to come without bringing you good news. Henry and I have -worked hard. All of our leisure moments have been devoted to it. We have -scoured this city over, but with no success; and, hearing yesterday that -Mr. Atkins would start down the river to-morrow, with all of you, I -could defer coming no longer. Poor Henry is too much distressed to come! -He says he'll not sleep this night, but will ransack the city till he -finds somebody able and willing to rescue you." - -"How does he look?" I asked. - -"Six years older than when you saw him last. He takes this very hard; -has lost his appetite, and can't sleep at night." - -I said nothing; but my heart was full, full to overflowing. I longed to -be alone, to fall with my face on the earth and weep. The presence of -Louise restrained me, for I always shrank from exposing my feelings. - -"Are we going to-morrow?" I inquired. - -"Yes, Mr. Atkins told me so this evening. Did you not know of it?" - -"No, indeed; am I among the lot?" - -After a moment's hesitation she replied, - -"Yes, he told me that you were, and, on account of your beauty, he -expected you would bring a good price in the Southern market. Oh -heavens, Ann, this is too dreadful to repeat; yet you will have to know -of it." - -"Oh yes, yes;" and I could no longer restrain myself; I fell, weeping, -in her arms. - -She could not remain long with me, for Mr. Atkins closed up the -establishment at half-past nine. Bidding me an affectionate farewell, -and assuring me that she would, with Henry, do all that could be done -for my relief, she left me. - -A most wretched, phantom-peopled night was that! Ten thousand horrors -haunted me! Of course I slept none; but imagination seemed turned to a -fiend, and tortured me in divers ways. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV. - -SCENE IN THE PEN--STARTING "DOWN THE RIVER"--UNCLE PETER'S TRIAL--MY -RESCUE. - - -On the next day, after breakfast, Mr. Atkins came in, saying, - -"Well, niggers, git yourselves ready. You must all start down the river -to-day, at ten o'clock. A good boat is going out. Huddle up your clothes -as quick as possible--no fuss, now." - -When he left, there was lamentation among some; silent mourning with -others; joy for a few. - -Shall I ever forget the despairing look of Charley? How passionately he -compressed his lips! I went up to him, and, laying my hand on his arm, -said, - -"Let us be strong to meet the trouble that is sent us!" - -He looked at me, but made no reply. I thought there was the wildness of -insanity in his glance, and turned away. - -It was now eight o'clock, and I had not heard from Henry or Louise. -Alas! my heart misgave me. I had been buoyed up for some time by the -flatteries and delusions of Hope! but now I felt that I had nothing to -sustain me; the last plank had sunk! - -I did not pretend to "get myself ready," as Mr. Atkins had directed; the -fact is, I was ready. The few articles of wearing apparel that I called -mine were all in my trunk, with some little presents that Henry had made -me, such as a brooch, earrings, &c. These were safely locked, and the -key hung round my neck. But the others were busy "getting ready." I was -standing near the door, anxiously hoping to see either Henry or Louise, -when an old negro woman, thinly clad, without any bonnet on her head, -and with a basket in her hand, came up to me, saying, - -"Please mam, is my ole man in here? De massa out here say I may speak -'long wid him, and say farwell;" and she wiped her eyes with the corner -of an old torn check apron. - -I was much touched, and asked her the name of her old man. - -"Pete, mam." - -"Oh, yes, he is within," and I stepped aside to let her pass through the -door. - -She went hobbling along, making her passage through the crowd, and I -followed after. In a few moments Pete saw her. - -"Oh dear! oh dear!" he cried out, "Judy is come;" and running up to her, -he embraced her most affectionately. - -"Yes," she said, "I begged Masser to let me come and see you. It was -long time before he told me dat you was sole to a trader and gwine down -de ribber. Oh, Lord! it 'pears like I ken never git usin to it! Dars no -way for me ever to hear from you. You kan't write, neither ken I. Oh, -what shill we do?" - -"I doesn't know, Judy, we's in de hands ob de Lord. We mus' trus' to -Him. Maybe He'll save us. Keep on prayin', Judy." - -The old man's voice grew very feeble, as he asked, - -"An de chillen, de boys, how is dey?" - -"Oh, dey is well. Sammy wanted to come long 'wid me; but it was too fur -for him to walk. Joe gib me dis, and say, take it to daddy from me." - -She looked in her basket, and drew out a little painted cedar whistle. -The tears rolled down the old man's cheeks as he took it, and, looking -at it, he shook his head mournfully, - -"Poor boy, dis is what I give him fur a Christmas gift, an' he sot a -great store to it. Only played wid it of Sundays and holidays. No, take -it back to him, an' tell him to play wid it, and never forget his poor -ole daddy dat's sole 'way down de ribber!" - -Here he fairly broke down, and, bursting into tears, wept aloud. - -"Oh, God hab bin marciful to me in lettin' me see you, Judy, once agin! -an' I am an ongrateful sinner not to bar up better." - -Judy was weeping violently. - -"Oh, if dey would but buy me! I wants to go long wid you." - -"No, no, Judy, you must stay long wid de chillen, an' take kere ob 'em. -Besides, you is not strong enough to do de work dey would want you to -do. No, I had better go by myself," and he wiped his eyes with his old -coat sleeve. - -"I wish," he added, "dat I had some little present to send de boys," -and, fumbling away in his pocket, he at length drew out two shining -brass buttons that he had picked up in the yard. - -"Give dis to 'em; say it was all thar ole daddy had to send 'em; but, -maybe, some time I'll have some money; and if I meet any friends down de -ribber, I'll send it to 'em, and git a letter writ back to let you and -'em know whar I is sold." - -Judy opened her basket, and handed him a small bundle. - -"Here, Pete, is a couple of shirts and a par of trowsers I fetched you, -and here's a good par of woollen socks to keep you warm in de winter; -and dis is one of Masser's ole woollen undershirts dat Missis sent you. -You know how you allers suffers in cold wedder wid de rheumatiz." - -"Tell Missis thankee," and his voice was choking in his throat. - -There was many a tearful eye among the company, looking at this little -scene. But, suddenly it was broken up by the appearance of Mr. Atkins. - -"Well, ole woman," he began, addressing Uncle Pete's wife, "it is time -you was agoin'. You has staid long enough. Thar's no use in makin' a -fuss. Pete belongs to me, an' I am agoin' to sell him to the highest -bidder I can find down the river." - -"Oh, Masser, won't you please buy me?" asked Judy. - -"No, you old fool." - -"Oh, hush Judy, pray hush," put in Pete; "humor her a little Masser -Atkins, she will go in a minnit. Now do go, honey," he added, addressing -Judy, who stood a moment, irresolutely, regarding her old husband; then -screaming out, "Oh no, no, I can't leave you!" fell down at his feet -half insensible. - -"Oh, Lord Jesus, hab marcy!" groaned Pete, as he bent over his partner's -body. - -"Take her out, instantly," exclaimed Atkins, as one of the men dragged -the body out. - -"Please be kereful, don't hurt her," implored Pete. - -"Behave yourself, and don't go near her," said Atkins to him, "or I'll -have both you an' her flogged. I am not goin' to have these fusses in my -pen." - -All this time Charley's face was frightful. As Atkins passed along he -looked toward Charley, and I thought he quailed before him. That regal -face of the mulatto man was well calculated to awe such a sinister and -small soul as Atkins. - -"Yes, yes, Charles, that proud spirit of yourn will git pretty well -broken down in the cotton fields," he murmured, just loud enough to be -heard. Charles made no answer, though I observed that his cheek fairly -blazed. - - * * * * * * - -When we were all bonneted, trunks corded down, and bundles tied up, -waiting, in the shed-room, for the order to get in the omnibus, Uncle -Pete suddenly spied the basket which Judy, in her insensibility, had -left. Picking it up, I saw the tears glitter in his eyes when the two -bright buttons rolled out on the floor. - -"These puttys," he muttered to himself, "was fur de boys. Poor fellows! -Now dey won't have any keepsake from dar daddy; and den here's de little -cedar whistle; oh, I wish I could send it out to 'em." Looking round the -room he saw Kitty, the mulatto woman, of whom I have before spoken as -the mistress of Atkins. - -"Oh, please, Kitty, will you have dis basket, dis whistle, and dese -putty buttons, sent out to Mr. John Jones', to my ole 'ooman Judy?' - -"Yes," answered the woman, "I will." - -"Thankee mam, and you'll very much oblige me." - -"Come 'long with you all. The omnibus is ready," cried out Atkins, and -we all took up the line of march for the door, each pausing to say -good-bye to Kitty, and yet none caring much for her, as she had not been -agreeable to us. - -"Going down the river, really," I said to myself. - -"Wait a minnit," said Atkins, and calling to a sort of foreman, who did -his roughest work, he bade him handcuff us. - -How fiercely-proud looked the face of Charles, as they fastened the -manacles on his wrists. - -I made no complaint, nor offered resistance. My heart was maddened. I -almost blamed Louise, and chided Henry for not forcing my deliverance. I -could have broken the handcuffs, so strongly was I possessed by an -unnatural power. - -"Git in the 'bus," said the foreman, as he riveted on the last handcuff. - -Just as I had taken my seat in the omnibus, Henry came frantically -rushing up. The great beads of perspiration stood upon his brow; and his -thick, hard breathing, was frightful. Sinking down upon the ground, all -he could say was, - -"Ann! Ann!" - -I rose and stood erect in the omnibus, looking at him, but dared not -move one step toward him. - -"What is the matter with that nigger?" inquired Atkins, pointing toward -Henry. Then addressing the driver, he bade him drive down to the wharf. - -"Stop! stop!" exclaimed Henry; "in Heaven's name stop, Mr. Atkins, -here's a gentleman coming to buy Ann. Wait a moment." - -Just then a tall, grave-looking man, apparently past forty, walked up. - -"Who the d----l is that?" gruffly asked Mr. Atkins. - -"It is Mr. Moodwell," Henry replied. "He has come to buy Ann." - -"Who said that I wanted to sell her?" - -"You would let her go for a fair price, wouldn't you?" - -"No, but I would part with her for a first-rate one." - -Just then, as hope began to relume my soul, Mr. Moodwell approached -Atkins, saying, - -"I wish to buy a yellow girl of you." - -"Which one?" - -"A girl by the name of Ann. Where is she?" - -"Don't you know her by sight?" - -"Certainly not, for I have never seen her." - -"You don't want to buy without first seeing her?" - -"I take her upon strong recommendation." - -With a dogged, and I fancied disappointed air, Atkins bade me stand -forth. Right willingly I obeyed; and appearing before Mr. Moodwell, with -a smiling, hopeful face, I am not surprised that he was pleased with me, -and readily paid down the price of a thousand dollars that was demanded -by Atkins. When I saw the writings drawn up, and became aware that I had -passed out of the trader's possession, and could remain near Henry, I -lifted my eyes to Heaven, breathing out an ardent act of adoration and -gratitude. - -Quickly Henry stood beside me, and clasping my yielding hand within his -own, whispered, - -"You are safe, dear Ann." - -I had no words wherewith to express my thankfulness; but the happy tears -that glistened in my eyes, and the warm pressure of the hand that I -gave, assured him of the sincerity of my gratitude. - -My trunk was very soon taken down from the top of the omnibus and -shouldered by Henry. - -Looking up at my companions, I beheld the savagely-stern face of -Charles; and thinking of his troubles, I blamed myself for having given -up to selfish joy, when such agony was within my sight. I rushed up to -the side of the omnibus and extended my hand to him. - -"God has taken care of you," he said, with a groan, "but I am -forgotten!" - -"Don't despair of His mercy, Charley." More I could not say; for the -order was given them to start, and the heavy vehicle rolled away. - -As I turned toward Henry he remarked the shadow upon my brow, and -tenderly inquired the cause. - -"I am distressed for Charley." - -"Poor fellow! I would that I had the power to relieve him." - -"Come on, come on," said Mr. Moodwell, and we followed him to the G---- -House, where I found Louise, anxiously waiting for me. - -"You are safe, thank Heaven!" she exclaimed, and joyful tears were -rolling down her smooth cheeks. - -The reaction of feeling was too powerful for me, and my health sank -under it. I was very ill for several weeks, with fever. Louise and Henry -nursed me faithfully. Mr. Moodwell had purchased me for a maiden sister -of his, who was then travelling in the Southern States, and I was left -at the G---- House until I should get well, at which time, if she should -not have returned, I was to be hired out until she came. I recollect -well when I first opened my eyes, after an illness of weeks. I was lying -on a nice bed in Louise's room. As it was a cool evening in the early -October, there was a small comfort-diffusing fire burning in the grate; -and on a little stand, beside my bed, was a very pretty and fragrant -bouquet. Seated near me, with my hand in his, was the one being on earth -whom I best loved. He was singing in a low, musical tone, the touching -Ethiopian melody of "Old Folks at Home." Slowly my eyes opened upon the -pleasant scene! Looking into his deep, witching eyes, I murmured low, -whilst my hand returned the pressure of his, - -"Is it you, dear Henry?" - -"It is I, my love; I have just got through with my work, and I came to -see you. Finding you asleep, I sat down beside you to hum a favorite -air; but I fear, that instead of calming, I have broken your slumber, -sweet." - -"No, dearest, I am glad to be aroused. I feel so much better than I have -felt for weeks. My head is free from fever, and except for the absence -of strength, am as well as I ever was." - -"Oh, it makes me really happy to hear you say so. I have been so uneasy -about you. The doctor was afraid of congestion of the brain. You cannot -know how I suffered in mind about you; but now your flesh feels cool and -pleasant, and your strength will, I trust, soon return." - -Just then Louise entered, bearing a cup of tea and a nice brown slice of -toast, and a delicate piece of chicken, on a neat little salver. At -sight of this dainty repast, my long-forgotten appetite returned, with a -most healthful vigor. But my kind nurse, who was glad to find me so -well, determined to keep me so, and would not allow me a hearty -indulgence of appetite. - -In a few days I was able to sit up in an easy chair, and, at every -opportunity, Louise would amuse me with some piece of pleasant gossip, -in relation to the boarders, &c. And Henry, my good, kind, noble Henry, -spent all his spare change in buying oranges and pine-apples for me, and -in sending rare bouquets, luxuries in which I took especial delight. -Then, during the long, cheerful autumnal evenings, when a fire sparkled -in the grate, he would, after his work was done, bring his banjo and -play for me; whilst his rich, gushing voice warbled some old familiar -song. Its touching plaintiveness often brought the tears to my eyes. - -Thus passed a few weeks pleasantly enough for me; but like all the other -rose-winged hours, they soon had a close. - -My strength had been increasing rapidly, and Mr. Moodwell, the brother -and agent of my mistress, concluded that I was strong enough to be hired -out. Accordingly, he apprized me of his intention, saying, - -"Ann, sister Nancy has written me word to hire you out until spring, -when she will return and take you home. I have selected a place for you, -in the capacity of house-servant. You must behave yourself well." - -I assured him that I would do my best; then asked the name of the family -to whom I was hired. - -"To Josiah Smith, on Chestnut street, I have hired you. He has two -daughters and a young niece living with him, and wishes you to wait on -them." - -After apprizing Henry and Louise of my new home, _pro tem._, I -requested the former to bring my trunk out that night, which he readily -promised. Bidding them a kind and cheerful adieu, I followed Mr. -Moodwell out to Chestnut street. - -This is one of the most retired and beautiful streets in the city of -L----, and Mr. Josiah Smith's residence the very handsomest among a -number of exceedingly elegant mansions. - -Opening a bronze gate, we passed up a broad tesselated stone walk that -led to the house, which was built of pure white stone, and three stories -in height, with an observatory on the top, and the front ornamented with -a richly-wrought iron verandah. Reposing in front upon the sward, were -two couchant tigers of dark gray stone. - -Passing through the verandah, we stopped at the mahogany door until Mr. -Moodwell pulled the silver bell-knob, which was speedily answered by a -neatly-dressed man-servant, who bade Mr. Moodwell walk in the parlor, -and requested me to wait without the door until he could find leisure to -attend to me. - -I obeyed this direction, and amused myself examining what remained of a -very handsome flower-garden, until he returned, when conducting me -around, by a private entrance, he ushered me into the kitchen. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV. - -THE NEW HOME--A PLEASANT FAMILY GROUP--QUIET LOVE-MEETINGS. - - -I became domesticated very soon in Mr. Josiah Smith's family. I learned -what my work was, and did it very faithfully, and I believe to their -satisfaction. - -The family proper consisted of Mr. Smith, his wife, two daughters, and a -niece. Mr. Smith was a merchant, of considerable wealth and social -influence, and the young ladies were belles par-excellence. Mrs. Smith -was the domestic of the concern, who carried on the establishment, a -little, busy, fussy sort of woman, that went sailing it round the house -with a huge bunch of keys dangling at her side, an incessant scold, with -a voice sharp and clear like a steamboat bell; a managing, thrifty sort -of person, a perfect terror to negroes; up of a morning betimes, and in -the kitchen, fussing with the cook about breakfast. - -I had very little to do with Mrs. Letitia. My business was almost -exclusively with the young ladies. I cleaned and arranged their rooms, -set the parlors right, swept and dusted them, and then attended to the -dining-room. This part of my work threw me under Mrs. Letitia's dynasty; -but as I generally did my task well, she had not much objection to make, -though her natural fault-finding disposition sharpened her optics a good -deal, and she generally discovered something about which to complain. - -Miss Adele Smith was the elder of the two daughters, a tall, pale girl, -with dark hair, carefully banded over a smooth, polished brow, large -black eyes and a pleasing manner. - -The second, Miss Nellie, was a round, plump girl of blonde complexion, -fair hair and light eyes, with a rich peach-flush on her cheek, and a -round, luscious, cherry-red mouth, that was always curling and -curvetting with smiles. - -The cousin, Lulu Carey, was a real romantic character, with a light, -fragile form, milk-white skin, the faintest touch of carmine playing -over the cheek, mellow gray eyes, earnest and loving, and a profusion of -chestnut-brown hair fell in the richest ringlets to her waist. Her -features and caste of face were perfect. She was habited in close -mourning, for her mother had been dead but one year, and the -half-perceptible shadow of grief that hung over her face, form and -manner, rendered her glorious beauty even more attractive. - -It was a real pleasure to me to serve these young ladies, for though -they were the élite, the cream of the aristocracy, they were without -those offensive "airs" that render the fashionable society of the West -so reprehensible. Though their parlors were filled every evening with -the gayest company, and they were kept up late, they always came to -their rooms with pleasant smiles and gracious words, and often chided me -for remaining out of bed. - -"Don't wait for us, Ann," they would say. "It isn't right to keep you -from your rest on our account." - -I slept on a pallet in their chamber, and took great delight in -remaining up until they came, and then assisted them in disrobing. - -It was the first time I had ever known white ladies (and young) to be -amiable, and seemingly philanthropic, and of course a very powerful -interest was excited for them. They had been educated in Boston, and had -imbibed some of the liberal and generous principles that are, I think, -indigenous to high Northern latitudes. Indeed, I believe Miss Lulu -strongly inclined toward their social and reformatory doctrines, though -she did not dare give them any very open expression, for Mr. and Mrs. -Josiah Smith were strong pro-slavery, conservative people, and would not -have countenanced any dissent from their opinions. - -Mrs. Smith used to say, "Niggers ought to be exterminated." - -And Miss Lulu, in her quiet way, would reply, - -"Yes, as slaves they should be exterminated." - -And then how pretty and naïvely she arched her pencilled brows. This was -always understood by the sisters, who must have shared her liberal -views. - -Mr. Smith was so much absorbed in mercantile matters, that he seldom -came home, except at meals or late at night, when the household was -wrapped in sleep; and, even on Sundays, when all the world took rest, he -was locked up in his counting-room. This seemed singular to me, for a -man of Mr. Smith's reputed and apparent wealth might have found time, at -least on Sunday, for quiet. - -The young ladies were very prompt and regular in their attendance at -church, but I used often to hear Miss Lulu exclaim, after returning, - -"Why don't they give us something new? These old rags of theology weary, -not to say annoy me. If Christianity is marching so rapidly on, why have -we still, rising up in our very midst, institutions the vilest and most -revolting! Why are we cursed with slavery? Why have we houses of -prostitution, where beauty is sold for a price? Why have we pest and -alms-houses? Who is the poor man's friend? Who is there with enough of -Christ's spirit to speak kindly to the Magdalene, and bid her 'go and -sin no more'? Alas, for Christianity to-day!" - -"But we must accept life as it is, and patiently wait the coming of the -millennium, when things will be as they ought," was Miss Adele's reply. - -"Oh, now coz, don't you and sis go to speculating upon life's troubles, -but come and tell me what I shall wear to the party to-morrow night," -broke from the gay lips of the lively Nellie. - -In this strain I've many times heard them talk, but it always wound up -with a smile at the suggestion of the volatile Miss Nellie. - -When I had been there but two days, I began to suspect Mrs. Smith's -disposition, for she several times declared her opinion that niggers had -no business with company, and that her's shouldn't have any. This was a -damper to my hopes, for my chief motive for wishing to be sold in L---- -was the pleasure I expected to derive from Henry's society. Every night, -as early as eight, the servants were ordered to their respective -quarters, and, as I slept in the house, a stolen interview with him -would have been impossible, as Mrs. Smith was too alert for me to make -an unobserved exit. On the second evening of my sojourn there, Henry -called to see me about half-past seven o'clock; and, just as I was -beginning to yield myself up to pleasure, Mrs. Smith came to the -kitchen, and, seeing him there, asked, - -"Whose negro is this?" - -"Henry Graham is my name, Missis," was the reply. - -"Well, what business have you here?" - -Henry was embarrassed; he hung his head, and, after a moment, faltered -out, - -"I came to see Ann, Missis." - -"Where do you belong?" - -"I belong to Mr. Graham, but am hired to the G---- House." - -"Well, then, go right there; and, if ever I catch you in my kitchen -again, I'll send your master word, and have you well flogged. I don't -allow negro men to come to see my servants. I want them to have no false -notions put into their heads. A nigger has no business visiting; let him -stay at home and do his master's work. I shouldn't be surprised if I -missed something out of the kitchen, and if I do, I shall know that you -stole it, and you shall be whipped for it; so shall Ann, for daring to -bring strange niggers into my kitchen. Now, clear yourself, man." - -With an humbled, mortified air, Henry took his leave. A thousand -scorpions were writhing in my breast. That he, my love, so honest, -noble, honorable, and gentlemanly in all his feelings, should be so -accused almost drove me to madness. I could not bear to have his pride -so bowed and his dearly-cherished principles outraged. From that day I -entertained no kind feeling for Mrs. Smith. - -On another occasion, a Saturday afternoon, when Louise came to sit a few -moments with me, she heard of it, and, rushing down stairs, ordered her -to leave on the instant, adding that her great abomination was free -niggers, and she wouldn't have them lurking round her kitchen, -corrupting her servants, and, perhaps, purloining everything within -their reach. - -Louise was naturally of a quick and passionate disposition; and, to be -thus wantonly and harshly treated, was more than she could bear. So she -furiously broke forth, and such a scene as occurred between them was -disgraceful to humanity! Miss Adele hearing the noise instantly came -out, and in a positive tone ordered Louise to leave; which order was -obeyed. After hearing from her mother a correct statement of the case, -Miss Adele burst into tears and went to her room. I afterward heard her -kindly remonstrating with her mother upon the injustice of such a course -of conduct toward her servants. But Mrs. Smith was confirmed in her -notions. They had been instilled into her early in life; had grown with -her growth and strengthened with her years. So it was not possible for -her young and philanthropic daughter to remove them. Once, when Miss -Adele was quite sick, and after I had been nursing her indefatigably for -some time, she said to me, - -"Ann, you have told me the story of your love. I have been thinking of -Henry, and pitying his condition, and trying to devise some way for you -to see him." - -"Thank you, Miss Adele, you are very kind." - -"The plan I have resolved upon is this: I will pretend to send you out -of evenings on errands for me; you can have an understanding with Henry, -and meet at some certain point; then take a walk or go to a friend's; -but always be careful to get home before ten o'clock." - -This was kindness indeed, and I felt the grateful tears gathering in my -eyes! I could not speak, but knelt down beside the bed, and reverently -kissed the hem of her robe. Goodness such as hers, charity and love to -all, elicited almost my very worship! - -I remember the first evening that I carried this scheme into effect. She -was sitting in a large arm-chair, carefully wrapped up in the folds of -an elegant velvet _robe-de-chambre_. Her mother, sister, and cousin were -beside her, all engaged in a cheerful conversation, when she called me -to her, and pretended to give me some errand to attend to out in the -city, telling me _pointedly_ that it would require my attention until -near ten o'clock. How like a lovely earth-angel appeared she then! - -I had previously apprized Henry of the arrangement, and named a point of -meeting. Upon reaching it, I found him already waiting for me. We took a -long stroll through the lamp-lit streets, talking of the blessed hopes -that struggled in our bosoms; of the faint divinings of the future; told -over the story of past sufferings, and renewed olden vows of devotion. - -He, with the most lover-like fondness, had brought me some little gift; -for this I kindly reproved him, saying that all his money should be -appropriated to himself, that, by observing a rigid economy, we but -hastened on the glorious day of release from bondage. Before ten I was -at home, and waiting beside Miss Adele. How kindly she asked me if I had -enjoyed myself; and with what pride I told her of the joy that her -kindness had afforded me! Surely the sweet smile that played so -luminously over her fair face was a reflex of the peace that irradiated -her soul! How beautifully she illustrated, in her single life, the holy -ministrations of true womanhood! Did she not, with kind words and -generous acts, "strive to bind up the bruised, broken heart." At the -very mention of her name, aye, at the thought of her even, I never fail -to invoke a blessing upon her life! - -Thus, for weeks and months, through her ingenuity, I saw Henry and -Louise frequently. Otherwise, how dull and dreary would have seemed to -me that long, cold winter, with its heaped snow-banks, its dull, gray -sky, its faint, chill sun, and leafless trees; but the sunbeam of her -kindness made the season bright, warm and grateful! - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI. - -THE NEW ASSOCIATES--DEPRAVED VIEWS--ELSY'S MISTAKE--DEPARTURE OF THE -YOUNG LADIES--LONELINESS. - - -In Mr. Smith's family of servants was Emily, the cook, a sagacious -woman, but totally without education, knowledge, or the peculiar -ambition that leads to its acquisition. She was a bold, raw, unthinking -spirit; and, from the fact that she had been kept closely confined to -the house, never allowed any social pleasure, she resolved to be -revenged, and unfortunately in her desire for "spite" (as she termed -it), had sacrificed her character, and was the mother of two children, -with unacknowledged fathers. Possessed of a violent temper, she would, -at periods, rave like a mad-woman; and only the severest lashing could -bring her into subjection. She was my particular terror. Her two -children, half-bloods, were little, sick, weasly things that excited the -compassion of all beholders, and though two years of age (twins), were, -from some physical derangement, unable to walk. - -There was also a man servant, Duke, who attended to odd ends of -housework, and served in the capacity of decorated carriage-driver, and -a girl, Elsy, a raw, green, country concern, good-natured and foolish, -with a face as black as tar. They had hired her from a man in the -country, and she being quite delighted with town and the off-cast finery -of the ladies, was as happy as _she_ could be--yet the mistakes she -constantly made were truly amusing. She had formed quite an attachment -for Duke, which he did not in the slightest degree return; yet, with -none of the bashfulness of her sex, she confessed to the feeling, and -declared that "Duke was very mean not to love her a little." This never -failed to excite the derision of the more sprightly Emily. - -"Well, you is a fool," she would exclaim, with an odd shake of the head. - -"I loves him, and don't kere who knows it." - -"Does he love you?" asked Emily. - -"_Well_, he doesn't." - -"_Then I'd hate him_," replied Emily, as, with a great force, she -brought her rolling-pin down on the table. - -"No, I wouldn't," answered the loving Elsy. - -"You ain't worth shucks." - -"Wish I was worth Duke." - -"Hush, fool." - -"You needn't git mad, kase I don't think as you does." - -"I is mad bekase you is a fool." - -"Who made me one?" - -"You was born it, I guess." - -"Then I aren't to blame fur it. Them that made me is." - -Conversations like this were of frequent occurrence, and once, when I -ventured to ask Elsy if she wouldn't like to learn to read, she laughed -heartily, saying: - -"Does you think I wants to run off?" - -"Certainly not." - -"Den why did you ax me if I wanted to larn to read?" - -"So you might have a higher source of enjoyment than you now have." - -"Oh, yes, so as to try to git my freedom! You is jist a spy fur de white -folks, and wants to know if I'll run away. Go off, now, and mind yer own -business, kase I has hearn my ole Masser, in de country, say dat -whenever niggers 'gan to read books dey was ob no 'count, and allers had -freedom in dar heads." - -Finding her thus obstinate, I gave up all attempts to persuade her, and -left her to that mental obscuration in which I found her. Emily -sometimes threatened to apply herself, with vigor, to the gaining of -knowledge, and thus defeat and "spite" her owners; but knowledge so -obtained, I think, would be of little avail, for, like religion, it -must be sought after from higher motives--sought for itself _only_. - -I could find but little companionship with those around me, and lived -more totally within myself than I had ever done. Many times have I gone -to my room, and in silence wept over the isolation in which my days were -spent; but three nights out of the seven were marked with white stones, -for on these I held blissful re-unions with Henry. Our appointed spot -for meeting was near an old pump, painted green, which was known as the -"green pump," a very favorite one, as the water, pure limestone, was -supposed to be better, cooler, and stronger than that of others. Much -has been written, by our popular authors, on the virtues and legends of -old town pumps, but, to me, this one had a beauty, a charm, a glory -which no other inanimate object in wide creation possessed! And of a -moonlight night, when I descried, at a distance, its friendly handle, -outstretched like an arm of welcome, I have rushed up and grasped it -with a right hearty good feeling! Long time afterwards, when it had -ceased to be a love-beacon to me, I never passed it without taking a -drink from its old, rusty ladle, and the water, like the friendly -draught contained in the magic cup of eastern story, transported me over -the waste of time to poetry and love! Even here I pause to wipe away the -fond, sad tears, which the recollection of that old "green pump" calls -up to my mind, and I should love to go back and stand beside it, and -drink, aye deeply, of its fresh, cool water! There are now many stately -mansions in that growing city, that sits like a fairy queen upon the -shore of the charmed Ohio; but away from all its lofty structures and -edifices of wealth, away from her public haunts, her galleries and -halls, would I turn, to pay homage to the old "green pump"! - -Some quiet evenings, too, had I in Louise's room, listening to Henry -sing, while he played upon his banjo. His voice was fine, full, and -round, and rang out with the clearness of a bell. Though possessed of -but slight cultivation, I considered it the finest one I ever heard. - -But again my pleasures were brought to a speedy close. As the winter -began to grow more cold, and the city more dull, the young ladies began -to talk of a jaunt to New Orleans. Their first determination was to -carry me with them; but, after calculating the "cost," they concluded it -was better to go without a servant, and render all necessary toilette -services to each other. They had no false pride--thanks to their -Northern education for that! - -Before their departure they gave quite a large dinner-party, served up -in the most fantastic manner, consisting of six different courses. I -officiated as waiter, assisted by Duke. Owing to the scarcity of -servants in the family, Elsy was forced to attend the door, and render -what assistance she could at the table. - -Whilst they were engaged on the fourth course, a violent ring was heard -at the door-bell, which Elsy was bound to obey. - -In a few moments she returned, saying to one of the guests: - -"Miss Allfield, a lady wishes to speak with you." - -"_With me?_" interrogated the lady. - -"Yes, marm." - -"Who can she be?" said Miss Allfield, in surprise. - -"Bid the lady be seated in the parlor, and say that Miss Allfield is at -dinner," replied Mrs. Smith. - -"If the company will excuse me, I will attend to this unusual visitor," -said Miss Allfield, as she rose to leave. - -"_It is a colored lady_, and she is waitin' fur you at the door," put in -Elsy. - -The blank amazement that sat upon the face of each guest, may be better -imagined than described! Some of them were ready to go into convulsions -of laughter. A moment of dead silence reigned around, when Miss Nellie -set the example of a hearty laugh, in which all joined, except Mr. and -Mrs. Smith, whose faces were black as a tempest-cloud. - -But there stood the offending Elsy, all unconscious of her guilt. When -she first came to town, she had been in the habit of announcing company -to the ladies as "a man wants to see you," or "a woman is in the -parlor," and had, every time, been severely reprimanded, and told that -she should say "a lady or gentleman is in the parlor." And the poor, -green creature, in her great regard for "ears polite," did not know how -to make the distinction between the races; but most certainly was she -taught it by the severe whipping that was administered to her afterwards -by Mr. Smith. No intercession or entreaty from the ladies could be of -any avail. Upon Elsy's bare back must the atonement be made! After this -public whipping, she was held somewhat in disgrace by the other -servants. Duke gave her a very decided cut, and Emily, who had never -liked her, was now lavish in her abuse and ill-treatment. She even -struck the poor, offenceless creature many blows; and from this there -was no redemption, for she was in sad disrepute with Mr. and Mrs. Smith; -and, after the young ladies' departure, she had no friend at all, for I -was too powerless to be of use to her. - - * * * * * * * - -The remainder of the winter was dull indeed. My interviews with Henry -had been discontinued; and I never saw Louise. I had no time for -reading. It was work, work, delve and drudge until my health sank under -it. Mrs. Smith never allowed us any time on Sundays, and the idea of a -negro's going to church was outrageous. - -"No," she replied, when I asked permission to attend church, "stay at -home and do your work. What business have negroes going to church? They -don't understand anything about the sermon." - -Very true, I thought, for the most of them; but who is to blame for -their ignorance? If opportunities for improvement are not allowed them, -assuredly they should not suffer for it. - -How dead and lifeless lay upon my spirit that dull, cold winter! The -snow-storm was without; and ice was within. Constant fault-finding and -ten thousand different forms of domestic persecution well-nigh crushed -the life out of me. Then there was not one break of beauty in my -over-cast sky! No faint or struggling ray of light to illume the -ice-bound circle that surrounded me! - -But the return of spring began to inspire me with hope; for then I -expected the arrival of my unknown mistress. Henry and Louise both knew -her, and they represented her as possessed of very amiable and -philanthropic views. How eagerly I watched for the coming of the May -blossoms, for then she, too, would come, and I be released from torture! -How dull and drear seemed the howling month of March, and even the -fitful, changeful April. Alternate smiles and tears were wearying to me, -and sure I am, no school-girl elected queen of the virgin month, ever -welcomed its advent with such delight as I! - -With its first day came the young ladies. Right glad was I to see them. -They returned blooming and bright as flowers, with the same gentle -manners and kindly dispositions that they had carried away. - -Miss Nellie had many funny anecdotes to tell of what she had seen and -heard; really it was delightful to hear her talk in that mirth-provoking -manner! In her accounts of Southern dandyisms and fopperies, she drew -forth her father's freest applause. - -"Why, Nellie, you ought to write a book, you would beat Dickens," he -used to say; but her more sober sister and cousin never failed to -reprove her, though gently, for her raillery. - -"Well, Elsy," she cried, when she met that little-respected personage, -"Have any more 'colored ladies' called during our absence?" This was -done in a kind, jocular way; but the poor negro felt it keenly, and held -her head down in mortification. - - * * * * * * * - -At length the second week of the month of May arrived, and with it came -my new mistress! A messenger, no less a person than Henry, was -despatched for me. The time for which I was hired at Mr. Smith's having -expired two weeks previously, I hastily got myself ready, and Henry once -again shouldered my trunk. - -With a feeling of delight, I said farewell to Mrs. Smith and the -servants; but when I bade the young ladies good-bye, I own to the -weakness of shedding tears! I tried to impress upon Miss Adele's mind -the sentiment of love that I cherished for her, and I had the -satisfaction of knowing that she was not too proud to feel an interest -in me. - -All the way to the G---- House, Henry was trying to cheer me up, and -embolden me for the interview with Miss Nancy. I had been looking -anxiously for the time of her arrival, and now I shrank from it. It was -well for my presence of mind that Miss Jane and her husband had returned -to their homestead, for I do not think that I could have breathed freely -in the same house with them, even though their control over me had -ceased. - -Arriving at the G---- House, I had not the courage to venture instantly -into Miss Nancy's presence; but sought refuge, for a few moments, in -Louise's apartment, where she gave me a very _cordial_ reception, and a -delightful beverage compounded of blackberries. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII. - -THE NEW MISTRESS--HER KINDNESS OF DISPOSITION--A PRETTY HOME--AND -LOVE-INTERVIEWS IN THE SUMMER DAYS. - - -At last I contrived to "screw my courage to the sticking-place," and go -to Miss Nancy's room. - -I paused at the closed door before knocking for admission. When I did -knock, I heard a not unpleasant voice say-- - -"Come in." - -The tone of that voice re-inspired me, and I boldly entered. - -There, resting upon the bed, was one of the sweetest and most benign -faces that I ever beheld. Age had touched it but to beautify. Serene and -clear, from underneath the broad cap frill shone her mild gray eyes. The -wide brow was calm and white as an ivory tablet, and the lip, like a -faded rose-leaf, hinted the bright hue which it had worn in health. The -cheek, like the lip, was blanched by the hand of disease. "Ah," she -said, as with a slight cough she elevated herself upon the pillow, "it -is you, Ann. You are a little tardy. I have been looking for you for the -last half-hour." - -"I have been in the house some time, Miss Nancy, but had not the courage -to venture into your presence; and yet I have been watching for your -arrival with the greatest anxiety." - -"You must not be afraid of me, child, I am but a sorry invalid, who -will, I fear, often weary and overtax your patience; but you must bear -with me; and, if you are faithful, I will reward you for it. Henry has -told me that you are pretty well educated, and have a pleasant voice for -reading. This delights me much; for your principal occupation will be to -read to me." - -Certainly this pleased me greatly, for I saw at once that I was removed -from the stultifying influences which had so long been exercised over my -mind. Now I should find literary food to supply my craving. My eyes -fairly sparkled, as I answered, - -"This is what I have long desired, Miss Nancy; and you have assigned to -me the position I most covet." - -"I am glad I have pleased you, child. It is my pleasure to gratify -others. Our lives are short, at best, and he or she only lives _truly_ -who does the most good." - -This was a style and manner of talk that charmed me. Beautiful example -and type of womankind! I felt like doing reverence to her. - -She reached her thin hand out to help herself to a glass of water, that -stood on a stand near by. I sprang forward to relieve her. - -"Ah, thank you," she said, in a most bland tone; "I am very weak; the -slightest movement convinces me of the failure of my strength." - -I begged that she would not exert herself, but always call on me for -everything that she needed. - -"I came here to serve you, and I assure you, my dear Miss Nancy, I shall -be most happy in doing it. Mine will, I believe, truly be a 'labor of -love.'" - -Another sweet smile, with the gilded light of a sunbeam, broke over her -calm, sweet face! Bless her! she and all of her class should be held as -"blessed among women;" for do they not walk with meek and reverent -footsteps in the path of her, the great model and prototype of all the -sex? - - * * * * * * * - -When I had been with her but a few days, she informed me that, as soon -as her health permitted, she intended being removed to her house on -Walnut street. I was not particularly anxious for this; for my sojourn -at the G---- House was perfectly delightful. My frequent intercourse -with Henry and Louise, was a source of intense pleasure to me. I was -allowed to pass the evenings with them. Truly were those hours dear and -bright. Henry played upon his banjo, and sang to us the most -enrapturing songs, airs and glees; and Louise generally supplied us with -cakes and lemonade! How exquisite was my happiness, as there we sat upon -the little balcony gazing at the Indiana shore, and talking of the time -when Henry and I should be free. - -"How much remains to be paid to your master, Henry," asked Louise. - -"I have paid all but three hundred and fifty; one hundred of which I -already have; so, in point of fact, I lack only two hundred and fifty," -said Henry. - -"I am very anxious to leave here this fall. I wish to go to Montreal. -Now, if you could make your arrangements to go on with me, I should be -glad. I shall require the services and attentions of a man; and, if you -have not realized the money by that time, I think I can lend it to you," -returned Louise. - -A bright light shone in Henry's eye, as he returned his thanks; but -quickly the coming shadow banished that radiance of joy. - -"But think of her," he said tenderly, laying his hand on my shoulder; -"what can she do without us, or what should I be without her?" - -"Oh, think not of me, dearest, I have a good home, and am well cared -for. Go, and as soon as you can, make the money, and come back for me." - -"Live years away from you? Oh, no, no!" and he wound his arm around my -waist, and, most naturally, my head rested upon his shoulder. Loud and -heavy was his breathing, and I knew that a fierce struggle was raging in -his breast. - -"I will never leave her, Louise," he at length replied. "That tyrant, -the law, may part us; but, my free will and act--_never_." - -"Ah, well," added she, as she looked upon us, "you will think better of -this after you give it a little reflection. This is only love's -delusion;" and, in her own quiet, sensible way, she turned the stream of -conversation into another channel. - -I think now, with pleasure, of the lovely scenes I enjoyed on those -evenings, with the fire-flies playing in the air; and many times have I -thought how beautifully and truly they typify the illusive glancings of -hope darting here and there with their fire-lit wings; eluding our -grasp, and sparkling e'en as they flit. - - * * * * * * * - -A few weeks after my installation in the new office, my mistress, whose -health had been improving under my nursing, began to get ready to move -to her sweet little cottage residence on Walnut street. I was not -anxious for the change, notwithstanding it gave me many local -advantages; for I should be removed from Henry, and though I knew that I -could see him often, yet the same roof would not cover us. But my life, -hitherto, had been too dark and oppressed for me to pause and mourn over -the "crumpled rose-leaf;" and so, with right hearty good will I set to -work "packing Miss Nancy's trunk," and gathering up her little articles -that had lain scattered about the room. - -An upholsterer had been sent out to get the house ready for us. When we -were on the eve of starting, Henry came to carry the luggage, and Miss -Nancy paid him seventy-five cents, at which he took off his hat, made a -low bow, and said, - -"Thank you, Missis." - -Miss Nancy was seated on the most comfortable cushion, and I directly -opposite, fanning her. - -We drove up to the house, a neat little brick cottage, painted white, -with green shutters, and a deep yard in front, thickly swarded, with a -variety of flowers, and a few forest trees. Beautiful exotics, in rare -plaster, and stone vases, stood about in the yard, and a fine cast-iron -watch-dog slept upon the front steps. Passing through the broad hall, -you had a fine view of the grounds beyond, which were handsomely -decorated. The out-buildings were all neatly painted or white-washed. A -thorough air of neatness presided over the place. On the right of the -hall was the parlor, furnished in the very perfection of taste and -simplicity. - -The carpet was of blue, bespeckled with yellow; a sofa of blue -brocatelle, chairs, and ottomans of the same material, were scattered -about. A cabinet stood over in the left corner, filled with the -collections and curiosities of many years' gathering, whilst the long -blue curtains, with festoonings of lace, swept to the floor! Adjoining -the parlor was the dining-room, with its oaken walls, and cane-colored -floor-cloth. Opposite to the parlor, and fronting the street, was Miss -Nancy's room, with its French bedstead, lounge, bureau, bookcase, table, -and all the et ceteras of comfort. Opening out from her room was a small -apartment, just large enough to contain a bed, chair, and wardrobe, with -a cheap little mirror overhanging a tasteful dresser, whereon were laid -a comb, brush, soap, basin, pitcher, &c. This room had been prepared for -me by my kind mistress. Pointing it out, she said, - -"That, Ann, is your _castle_." I could not restrain my tears. - -"Heaven send me grace to prove my gratitude to you, kind Miss Nancy," I -sobbed out. - -"Why, my poor girl, I deserve no thanks for the performance of my duty. -You are a human being, my good, attentive nurse, and I am bound to -consider your comfort or prove unworthy of my avowed principles." - -"This is so unlike what I have been used to, Miss Nancy, that it excites -my wonder as well as gratitude." - -"I fear, poor child, that you have served in a school of rough -experience! You are so thoroughly disciplined, that, at times, you -excite my keenest pity." - -"Yes, ma'm, I have had all sorts of trouble. The only marvel is that I -am not utterly brutalized." - -"Some time you must tell me your history; but not now, my nerves are too -unquiet to listen to an account so harrowing as I know your recital must -be." - -As I adjusted the pillow and arranged the beautiful silk spread (her own -manufacture), I observed that her eyes were filled with tears. I said -nothing, but the sight of _those tears_ served to soften many a painful -recollection of former years. - -I am conscious, in writing these pages, that there will be few of my -white readers who can enter fully into my feelings. It is impossible for -them to know how deeply the slightest act of kindness impressed -_me_--how even a word or tone gently spoken called up all my -thankfulness! Those to whom kindness is common, a mere household -article, whose ears are greeted morning, noon and night, with loving -sounds and kind tones, will deem this strange and exaggerated; but, let -them recollect that I was a _slave_--not a mere servant, but a perpetual -slave, according to the abhorred code of Kentucky; and their wonder will -cease. - -The first night that I threw myself down on my bed to sleep (did I state -that I had a bedstead--that I had _actually_ what slaves deemed a great -luxury--a _high-post bedstead_?) I felt as proud as a queen. Henry had -been to see me. I entertained him in a nice, clean, carpeted kitchen, -until a few minutes of ten o'clock, when he left me; for at that hour, -by the city ordinance, he was obliged to be at home. - -"What," I thought, "have I now to desire? Like the weary dove sent out -from the ark, I have at last found land, peace and safety. Here I can -rest contentedly beneath the waving of the olive branches that guard the -sacred portal of _home!_" _Home!_ home this truly was! A home where the -heart would always love to lurk; and how blessed seemed the word to me, -now that I comprehended its practical significance! No more was it a -fable, an expression merely used to adorn a song or round a verse! - -That first night that I spent at home was not given up to sleep. No, I -was too happy for that! Through the long, mysterious hours, I lay -wakeful on my soft and pleasant pillow, weaving fairest fancies from the -dim chaos of happy hopes. Adown the sloping vista of the future I -descried nought but shade and flowers! - -With my new mistress, I was more like a companion than a servant. My -duties were light--merely to read to her, nurse her, and do her sewing; -and, as she had very little of the latter, I may as well set it down as -the "extras" of my business, rather than the business itself. - -I rose every morning, winter and summer, at five o'clock, and arranged -Miss Nancy's room whilst she slept; and, so accustomed had she become to -my light tread, that she slept as soundly as though no one had been -stirring. After this was done, I placed the family Bible upon a stand -beside her bed; then took my sewing and seated myself at the window, -until she awoke. Then I assisted her in making her morning toilette, -which was very simple; wheeled the easy chair near the bed, and helped -her into it. After which she read a chapter from the holy book, followed -by a beautiful, extemporaneous prayer, in which we were joined by Biddy, -the Irish cook. After this, Miss Nancy's breakfast was brought in on a -large silver tray,--a breakfast consisting of black tea, Graham bread, -and mutton chop. In her appetite, as in her character, she was simple. -After this was over, Biddy and I breakfasted in the kitchen. Our fare -was scarcely so plain, for hearty constitutions made us averse to the -abstemiousness of our mistress. We had hot coffee, steaming steaks, -omelettes and warm biscuits. - -"Ah, but she is a love of a lady!" exclaimed Biddy, as she ate away -heartily at these luxuries. "Where in this city would we find such a -mistress, that allows the servants better fare than she takes herself? -And then she never kapes me from church. I can attend the holy mass, and -even go to vespers every Sunday of my life. The Lord have her soul for -it! But she is as good as a canonized saint, if she is a Protestant!" - -Sometimes I used to repeat these conversations to Miss Nancy. They never -failed to amuse her greatly. - -"Poor Biddy," she would say, in a quiet way, with a sweet smile, "ought -to know that true religion is the same in all. It is not the being a -member of a particular church, or believing certain dogmas of faith, -that make us religious, heirs of God, and joint heirs with Christ. It is -the living religion, not the simple believing of it, that constitutes us -_Christians_. We must feel that all men are our brothers, and all women -our sisters; for in the kingdom of heaven there will be no distinction -of race or color, and I see no reason why we should live differently -here. The Saviour of the world associated with the humblest. His chosen -twelve were the fishermen of Galilee. I want to live in constant -preparation for death; but, alas! my weak endeavor is but seldom crowned -with success." - -How reverently I looked upon her at such times! What a beautiful saint -she was! - -One evening in the leafy month of June, when the intensity of summer -begins to make itself felt, I took my little basket, filled with some -ruffling that I was embroidering for Miss Nancy's wrapper, and seated -myself upon the little portico at the back of the house. I had been -reading to her the greater portion of the day, and felt that it was -pleasant to be left in an indolent, dreamy state of mind, that required -no concentration of thought. As my fingers moved lazily along, I was -humming an old air, that I had heard in far less happy days. Everything -around me was so pleasant! The setting sun was flinging floods of glory -over the earth, and the young moon was out upon her new wing, softening -and beautifying the scene. Afar off, the lull of pleasant waters and the -music-roar of the falls sounded dreamily in my ear! I laid my work down -in the basket, and, with closed eyes, thought over the events and -incidents of my past life of suffering; and, as the dreary picture of my -troubles at Mr. Peterkin's returned to my mind, and my subsequent -imprisonment in the city, my trials at "the pen," and then this my safe -harbor and haven of rest, so strange the whole seemed, that I almost -doubted the reality, and feared to open my eyes, lest the kindly, -illusive dream should be broken forever. But no, it was no dream; for, -upon turning my head, I spied through the unclosed door of the -dining-room the careful arrangement of the tea-table. There it stood, -with its snowy cover, upon which were placed the fresh loaf of Graham -bread, the roll of sweet butter, some parings of cheese, the glass bowl -of fruit and pitcher of cream, together with the friendly tea-urn of -bright silver, from which I, even _I_, had often been supplied with the -delightful beverage. And then, stepping through the door, with a calm -smile on her face, was Miss Nancy herself! How beautifully she looked in -her white, dimity wrapper, with the pretty blue girdle, and tiny lace -cap! She gazed out upon the yard, with the blooming roses, French pinks, -and Colombines that grew in luxuriance. Stepping upon the sward, she -gathered a handful of flowers, clipping them nicely from the bush with a -pair of scissors, that she wore suspended by a chain to her side. Seeing -me on the portico, she said, - -"Ann, bring me my basket and thread here, and wheel my arm-chair out; I -wish to sit with you here." - -I obeyed her with pleasure, for I always liked to have her near me. She -was so much more the friend than the mistress, that I never felt any -reserve in her presence. All was love. As she took her seat in the -arm-chair, I threw a shawl over her shoulders to protect her from any -injurious influence of the evening air. She busied herself tying up the -flowers; and their arrangement of color, &c., with a view to effect, -would have done credit to a florist. My admiration was so much excited, -that I could not deny myself the pleasure of an expression of it. - -"Ah, yes," she answered, "this was one of the amusements of my youth. -Many a bouquet have I tied up in my dear old home." - -I thought I detected a change in her color, and heard a sigh, as she -said this. - -"Of what State are you a native, Miss Nancy?" - -"Dear old Massachusetts," she answered, with a glow of enthusiasm. - -"It is the State, of all others in the Union, for which I have the most -respect." - -"Ah, well may you say that, poor girl," she replied, "for its people -treat your unfortunate race with more humanity than any of the others." - -"I have read a great deal of their liberality and cultivation, of both -mind and heart, which has excited my admiring interest. Then, too, I -have known those born and reared beneath the shadow of its wise and -beneficent laws, and the better I knew them, the more did my admiration -for the State increase. Now I feel that Massachusetts is doubly dear to -me, since I have learned that it is your birth-place." - -She did not say anything, but her mild eyes were suffused with tears. - -Just as I was about to speak to her of Mr. Trueman, Biddy came to -announce tea, and, after that, Miss Nancy desired to be left alone. As -was his custom, with eight o'clock came Henry. We sat out on the -portico, with the moonlight shining over us, and talked of the future! I -told him what Miss Nancy said of Massachusetts, and, I believe, he was -seized with the idea of going thither after purchasing himself. - -He was unusually cheerful. He had made a great deal in the last few -months; had grown to be quite a favorite with the keeper of the hotel, -and was liberally paid for his Sunday and holiday labors, and, by -errands for, and donations from, the boarders, had contrived to lay up a -considerable sum. - -"I hope, dearest, to be able soon to accomplish my freedom; then I shall -be ready to buy you. How much does Miss Nancy ask for you?" - -"Oh, Henry, I cannot leave her, even if I were able to pay down every -cent that she demands for me. I should dislike to go away from her. She -is so kind and good; has been such a friend to me that I could not -desert her. Who would nurse her? Who would feel the same interest in her -that I do? No, I will stay with her as long as she lives, and do all I -can to prove my gratitude." - -"What do you mean, Ann? Would you refuse to make me happy? Miss Nancy -has other friends who would wait upon her." - -"But, Henry, that does not release me from my obligation. When she was -on the eve of starting upon a journey, you went to her with the story of -my danger. She promptly consented to buy me without even seeing me. I -was not purchased as an article of property; with the noble liberality -of a philanthropist, she ransomed, at a heavy price, a suffering -sister, and shall I be such an ingrate as to leave her? No, she and Mr. -Trueman of Boston, are the two beings whom I would willingly serve -forever." - -Just then a deep sigh burst from the full heart of some one, and I -thought I heard a retreating footstep. - -"Who can that have been?" asked Henry. - -We examined the hall, the dining-room, my apartment; and I knocked at -Miss Nancy's door, but, receiving no answer, I judged she was asleep. - -"It was but one of those peculiar voices of the night, which are the -better heard from this intense silence," said Henry, and, finding that -my alarm was quieted, he bade me an affectionate good-night, and so we -parted. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIII. - -AN AWFUL REVELATION--MORE CLOUDS TO DARKEN THE SUN OF LIFE--SICKNESS AND -BLESSED INSENSIBILITY. - - -I slept uninterruptedly that night, and, on awaking in the morning, I -was surprised to find it ten minutes past five. Hurrying on my clothes, -I went to Miss Nancy's apartment, and was much surprised to find her -sitting in her easy chair, her toilette made. Looking up from the Bible, -which lay open on the stand before her, she said, - -"I have stolen a march, Ann, and have risen before you." - -"Yes, ma'm," replied I, in a mortified tone, "I am ten minutes behind -the time; I am very sorry, and hope you will excuse me." - -"No apologies, now; I hope you do not take me for a cruel, exacting -task-mistress, who requires every inch of your time." - -"No, indeed, I do not, for I know you to be the kindest mistress and -best friend in the world." - -"And now, Ann, I will read some from the Lamentations of Jeremiah; and -we will unite in family prayer." - -At the ringing of the little bell Biddy quickly appeared, and we seated -ourselves near Miss Nancy, and listened to her beautiful voice as it -broke forth in the plaintive eloquence of the holy prophet! - -"Let us pray," she said, fervently, extending her thin, white hands -upward, and we all sank upon our knees. She prayed for grace to rest on -the household; for its extension over the world; that it might visit the -dark land of the South; that the blood of Christ might soften the hearts -of slave-holders. She asked, in a special manner, for power to carry out -her good intentions; prayed that the blessing of God might be given to -me, in a particular manner, to enable me to meet the trials of life, and -invoked benedictions upon Biddy. - -When we rose, both Biddy and I were weeping; and as we left her, Biddy -broke forth in all her Irish enthusiasm, "The Lord love her heart! but -she is sanctified! I never heard a prettier _prayer said in the -Cathedral_!" - - * * * * * - -Miss Nancy's health improved a great deal. She began to walk of evenings -through the yard, and a little in the city. I always attended her. Of -mornings we rode in a carriage that she hired for the occasion, and of -evenings Henry came, and always brought with him his banjo. - -One evening he and Louise came round to sit with me, and after we had -been out upon the portico listening to Henry's songs, Miss Nancy bade me -go to the sideboard and get some cake and wine. Placing it on the table -in the dining-room, I invited them, in Miss Nancy's name, to come in and -partake of it. After proposing the health of my kind Mistress, to which -we all drank, Biddy joining in, Louise pledged a glass to the speedy -ransom of Henry. Just then Miss Nancy entered, saying: - -"My good Henry, when you buy yourself, and find a home in the North, -write us word where you have established yourself, and I will -immediately make out Ann's free papers, and remove thither; but I cannot -think of losing my good nurse. So, for her's, your's and my own -convenience, I will take up my residence wherever you may settle. Stop -now, Ann, no thanks; I know all about your gratitude, for I was a -pleased, though unintentional listener to a conversation between -yourself and Henry, in which I found out how deep is your attachment to -me." - -Hers, then, was the sigh which had so alarmed me! It was all explained. -I had no words to express my overflowing heart. My whole soul seemed -melted. Henry's eyes were filled with grateful tears. He sank upon his -knees and kissed the hem of Miss Nancy's dress. - -"No, no, my brave-hearted man, do not kneel to me. I am but the humble -instrument under Heaven; and, oh, how often have I prayed for such an -opportunity as this to do good, and dispense happiness." - -And so saying she glided out of the room. - -"Well," exclaimed Biddy, "she is more than a saint, she is an angel," -and she wiped the tears from her honest eyes. - -"I have known her for some time," said Louise, "and never saw her do, or -heard of her doing a wrong action. She is very different from her -brother. Does he come here often, Ann?" - -"Not often; about once a fortnight." - -"He is too much taken up with business; hasn't a thought outside of his -counting-room. He doesn't share in any of her philanthropic ideas." - -"She hasn't her equal on earth," added Henry. "Mr. Moodwell is a good -man, though not good enough to be _her_ brother." - -Thus passed away the evening, until the near approach of ten o'clock -warned them to leave. - -I was too happy for sleep. Many a wakeful night had I passed from -unhappiness, but now I was sleepless from joy. - - * * * * * * * - -The next morning, after Miss Nancy had breakfasted, I asked her what I -should read to her. - -"Nothing this morning, Ann. I had rather you would talk with me. Let us -arrange for the future; but first tell me how much money does Henry lack -to buy himself?" - -"About one hundred dollars." - -"I think I can help him to make that up." - -"You have already done enough, dear Miss Nancy. We could not ask more of -you." - -"No, but I am anxious to do all I can for you, my good girl. You are -losing the greenest part of your lives. I feel that it is wrong for you -to remain thus." - -Seeing that I was in an unusually calm mood, she asked me to tell her -the story of my life, or at least the main incidents. I entered upon the -narrative with the same fidelity that I have observed in writing these -memoirs. At many points and scenes I observed her weeping bitterly. -Fearing that the excitement might prove too great for her strength, I -several times urged her to let me stop; but she begged me to go on -without heeding her, for she was deeply interested. - -When I came to the account of my meeting with Mr. Trueman, she bent -eagerly forward, and asked if it was Justinian Trueman, of Boston. Upon -my answering in the affirmative, she exclaimed: - -"How like him! The same noble, generous, disinterested spirit!" - -"Do you know him, Miss Nancy?" - -"Oh yes, child, he is one of our prominent Northern men, a very able -lawyer; every one in the State of Massachusetts knows him by reputation, -but I have a personal acquaintance also." - -Just as I was about to ask her something of Mr. Trueman's history, Biddy -came running in, exclaiming: - -"Oh, dear me! Miss Nancy! what do you think? They say that Mr. Barkoff, -the green grocer, has let his wife whip a colored woman to death." - -"Oh, it can't be true," cried Miss Nancy, as she started up from her -chair. "It is, I trust, some slanderous piece of gossip." - -"Oh, the Lord love your saintly heart, but I do believe 'tis true, for, -as I went down the street to market, I heard some awful screaming in -there, and I asked a girl, standing on the pavement, what it meant; and -she said Mrs. Barkoff was whipping a colored woman; then, when I came -back there was a crowd of children and colored people round the back -gate, and one of them told me the woman was dead, and that she died -shouting." - -"Oh, God, how fearful is this!" exclaimed Miss Nancy, as the big tears -rolled down her pale cheeks. "Give me, oh, sweet Jesus, the power to -pray as Thou didst, to the Eternal Father, 'to forgive them, for they -know not what they do!'" - -"Come, Ann," continued the impetuous Biddy, "you go with me, and we'll -try to find out all about it. We will go to see the woman." - -"I cannot leave Miss Nancy." - -"Yes, go with her, Ann; but don't allow her to say anything imprudent. -Poor Biddy has such a good, philanthropic heart, that she forgets the -patient spirit which Christianity inculcates." - -With a strange kind of awe, I followed Biddy through the streets, -scarcely heeding her impassioned garrulity. The blood seemed freezing in -my veins, and my teeth chattered as though it had been the depth of -winter. As we drew near the place, I knew the house by the crowd that -had gathered around the back and side gates. - -"Let us enter here," said Biddy, as she placed her hand upon the heavy -plank gate at the back of the lot. - -"Stop, Biddy, stop," I gasped out, as I held on to the gate for support, -"I feel that I shall suffocate. Give me one moment to get my breath." - -"Oh, Ann, you are only frightened," and she led me into the yard, where -we found about a dozen persons, mostly colored. - -"Where is the woman that's been kilt?" inquired Biddy, of a mulatto -girl. - -"She ain't quite dead. Pity she isn't out of her misery, poor soul," -said the mulatto girl. - -"But where is she?" demanded Biddy. - -"Oh, in thar, the first room in the basement," and, half-led by Biddy, I -passed in through a mean, damp, musty basement. The noxious atmosphere -almost stifled us. Turning to the left as directed, we entered a low, -comfortless room, with brick walls and floor. Upon a pile of straw, in -this wretched place, lay a bleeding, torn, mangled body, with scarcely -life in it. Two colored women were bathing the wounds and wrapping -greased cloths round the body. I listened to her pitiful groans, until I -thought my forbearance would fail me. - -"Poor soul!" said one of the colored women, "she has had a mighty bad -convulsion. I wish she could die and be sot free from misery." - -"Whar is de white folks?" asked another. - -"Oh, dey is skeered, an' done run off an' hid up stairs." - -"Who done it?" - -"Why, Miss Barkoff; she put Aunt Kaisy to clean de harth, an' you see, -de poor ole critter had a broken arm. De white folks broke it once when -dey was beatin' of her, and so she couldn't work fast. Well den, too, -she'd been right sick for long time. You see she was right sickly like, -an' when Miss Barkoff come back--she'd only bin gone a little while--an' -see'd dat de harth wasn't done, she fell to beatin' of de poor ole sick -critter, an' den bekase she cried an' hollered, she tuck her into de -coal-house, gagged her mouth, tied her hands an' feet, an' fell to -beatin' of her, an' she beat her till she got tired, den ole Barkoff -beat her till he got satisfied. Den some colored person seed him, an' -tole him dat he better stop, for Aunt Kaisy was most gone." - -"Yes, 'twas me," said the other woman, "I was passin' 'long at de back -of de lot, an' I hearn a mighty quare noise, so I jist looked through -the crack, an' there I seed him a beatin' of her, an' I hollered to him -to stop, for de Lor' sake, or she would die right dar. Den he got -skeered an' run off in de house." - -The narration was here interrupted by a fearful groan from the sufferer. -One of the women very gently turned her over, with her face full toward -me. - -Oh, God have mercy on me! In those worn, bruised anguish-marked -features, in the glance of that failing, filmy eye, I recognized my -long-lost mother! With one loud shriek I fell down beside her! After -years of bitter separation, thus to meet! Oh that the recollection had -faded from my mind, but no, that awful sight is ever before my eyes! I -see her, even now, as there she lay bleeding to death! Oh that I had -been spared the knowledge of it! - -There was the same mark upon the brow, and, I suppose, more by that -than the remembered features, was I enabled to identify her. - -My frantic screams soon drew a crowd of persons to the room. - -My mother, my dear, suffering mother, unclosed her eyes, and, by that -peculiar mesmerism belonging to all mothers, she knew it was her child -whose arms were around her. - -"Ann, is it you?" she asked feebly. - -"Yes, mother, it is I; but, oh, how do I find you!" - -"Never mind me, child, I feel that I shall soon be at peace! 'Tis for -you that I am anxious. Have you a good home?" - -"Yes; oh, that you had had such!" - -"Thank God for that. You are a woman now, I think; but I am growing -blind, or it is getting dark so fast that I cannot see you. Here, here, -hold me Ann, child, hold me close to you, I am going through the floor, -sinking, sinking down. Catch me, catch me, hold me! It is dark; I can't -see you, where, where are you?" - -"Here, mother, here, I am close to you." - -"Where, child, I can't see you; here catch me;" and, suddenly springing -up as if to grasp something, she fell back upon the straw----_a corpse_! - -After such a separation, this was our meeting--and parting! I had hoped -that life's bitterest drop had been tasted, but this was as "vinegar -upon nitre." - -When I became conscious that the last spark of life was extinct in that -beloved body, I gave myself up to the most delirious grief. As I looked -upon that horrid, ghastly, mangled form, and thought it was my mother, -who had been butchered by the whites, my very blood was turned to gall, -and in this chaos of mind I lost the faculty of reason. - - * * * * * * * * - -When my consciousness returned I was lying on a bed in my room, the -blinds of which were closed, and Miss Nancy was seated beside me, -rubbing my hands with camphor. As I opened my eyes, they met her kind -glance fixed earnestly upon me. - -"You are better, Ann," she said, in a low, gentle voice. I was too -languid to reply; but closed my eyes again, with a faint smile. When I -once more opened them I was alone, and through one shutter that had -blown open, a bright ray of sunlight stole, and revealed to me the care -and taste with which my room had been arranged. Fresh flowers in neat -little vases adorned the mantel; and the cage, containing Miss Nancy's -favorite canary, had been removed to my room. The music of this -delightful songster broke gratefully upon my slowly awakening faculties. -I rose from the bed, and seated myself in the large arm-chair. Passing -my hand across my eyes, I attempted to recall the painful incidents of -the last few days; and as that wretched death-bed rose upon my memory, -the scalding tears rushed to my eyes, and I wept long, long, as though -my head were turned to waters! - -Miss Nancy entered, and finding me in tears she said nothing; but turned -and left the room. Shortly after, Biddy appeared with some nourishment, - -"Laws, Ann, but you have been dreadfully sick. You had fever, and talked -out of your head. Henry was here every evening. He said that once afore, -when you took the fevers, you was out of your head, just the same way. -He brought you flowers; there they are in the vase," and she handed me -two beautiful bouquets. - -In this pleasant way she talked on until I had satisfied the cravings of -an empty stomach with the niceties she had brought me. - -That evening Henry came, and remained with me about half an hour. Miss -Nancy warned him that it was not well to excite me much. So with -considerable reluctance he shortened his visit. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIX. - -GRADUAL RETURN OF HAPPY SPIRITS--BRIGHTER PROSPECTS--AN OLD -ACQUAINTANCE. - - -When I began to gain strength Miss Nancy took me out in a carriage of -evenings; and had it not been for the melancholy recollections that hung -like a pall around my heart, life would have been beautiful to me. As we -drove slowly through the brightly-lighted streets, and looked in at the -gaudy and flaunting windows, where the gayest and most elegant articles -of merchandise were exhibited, I remarked to Miss Nancy, with a sigh, -"Life might be made a very gay and cheerful thing--almost a pleasure, -were it not for the wickedness of men." - -"Ah, yes, it might, indeed," she replied, and the big tears rested upon -her eyelids. - -One evening when we had returned from a drive, I noticed that she ate -very little supper, and her hand trembled violently. - -"You are sick, Miss Nancy," I said. - -"Yes, Ann, I feel strangely," she replied. - -"To-morrow you must go for my brother, and I will have a lawyer to draw -up my will. It would be dreadful if I were to die suddenly without -making a provision for you; then the bonds of slavery would be riveted -upon you, for by law you would pass into my brother's possession." - -"Don't trouble yourself about it now, dear Miss Nancy," I said; "your -life is more precious than my liberty." - -"Not so, my good girl. The dawn of your life was dark, I hope that the -close may be bright. The beginning of mine was full of flowers; the -close will be serene, I trust; but ah, I've outlived many a blessed hope -that was a very rainbow in my dreaming years." - -I had always thought Miss Nancy's early life had been filled with -trouble; else why and whence her strange, subdued, melancholy nature! -How much I would have given had she told me her history; yet I would not -add to her sadness by asking her to tell me of it. - -The next morning I went for Mr. Moodwell, who, at Miss Nancy's instance, -summoned a notary. The will was drawn up and witnessed by two competent -persons. - -After this she began to improve rapidly. Her strength of body and -cheerfulness returned. About this time my peace of mind began to be -restored. Of my poor mother I never spoke, after hearing the particulars -that followed her death. She was hurriedly buried, without psalm or -sermon. No notice was taken by the citizens of her murder--why should -there be? She was but a poor slave, grown old and gray in the service of -the white man; and if her master chose to whip her to death, who had a -right to gainsay him? She was his property to have and to hold; to use -or to kill, as he thought best! - -Give us no more Fourth of July celebrations; the rather let us have a -Venetian oligarchy! - -Miss Nancy, in her kind, persuasive manner, soon lured my thoughts away -from such gloomy contemplations. She sought to point out the pleasant, -easy pathway of wisdom and religion, and I thank her now for the good -lessons she then taught me! Beneath such influence I gradually grew -reconciled to my troubles. Miss Nancy fervently prayed that they might -be sanctified to my eternal good; and so may they! - -Louise came often to see me, and I found her then as now, the kindest -and most willing friend; everything that she could do to please me she -did. She brought me many gifts of books, flowers, fruits, &c. I may have -been petulant and selfish in my grief; but those generous friends bore -patiently with me. - -Pleasant walks I used to take with Henry of evenings, and he was then -so full of hope, for he had almost realized the sum of money that his -master required of him. - -"Master will be down early in September," he said, as we strolled along -one evening in August, "and I think by borrowing a little from Miss -Nancy, I shall be able to pay down all that I owe him, and then, -dearest, I shall be free--free! only think of it! Of _me_ being a free -man, master of _myself_! and when we go to the North we will be married, -and both of us will live with Miss Nancy, and guard her declining days." - -Happy tears were shining in his bright eyes, like dew-pearls; but, with -a strong, manly hand he dashed them away, and I clung the fonder to that -arm, that I hoped would soon be able to protect me. - -"There is one foolish little matter, dearest, that I will mention, more -to excite your merriment, than fear," said Henry with an odd smile. - -"What is it?" - -"Well, promise me not to care about it; only let it give you a good -laugh." - -"Yes, I promise." - -"Well," and he paused for a moment, "there is a girl living near the -G---- House. She belongs to Mr. Bodley, and has taken a foolish fancy to -me; has actually made advances, even more than advances, actual offers -of love! She says she used to know you, and, on one occasion, attempted -to speak discreditably of you; though I quickly gave her to understand -that I would not listen to it. Why do you tremble so, Ann?" - -And truly I trembled so violently, that if it had not been for the -support that his arm afforded me, I should have fallen to the ground. - -"What is her name?" I asked. - -"Melinda, and says she once belonged to Mr. Peterkin." - -"Yes, she did. We used to call her Lindy." - -I then told him what an evil spirit she had been in my path; and -ventured to utter a suspicion that her work of harm was yet unfinished, -that she meant me further injury. - -"I know her now, dearest. You have unmasked her, and, with me, she can -have no possible power." - -I seemed to be satisfied, though in reality I was not, for apprehension -of an indefinable something troubled me sorely. The next day Miss Nancy -observed my troubled abstraction, and inquired the cause, with so much -earnestness, that I could not withhold my confidence, and gave her a -full account. - -"And you think she will do you an injury?" - -"I fear so." - -"But have you not forestalled that by telling Henry who she is, and how -she has acted toward you?" - -"Yes, ma'm, and have been assured by him that she can do me no harm; but -the dread remains." - -"Oh, you are in a weak, nervous state; I am astonished at Henry for -telling you such a thing at this time." - -"He thought, ma'm, that it would amuse me, as a fine joke; and so I -supposed I should have enjoyed it." - -She did all she could to divert my thoughts, made Henry bring his banjo, -and play for me of evenings; bought pleasant romances for me to read; -ordered a carriage for a daily ride; purchased me many pretty articles -of apparel; but, most of all, I appreciated her kind and cheerful talk, -in which she strove to beguile me from everything gloomy or sad. - -Once she sent me down to spend the day with Louise at the G---- House. -There was quite a crowd at the hotel. Southerners, who had come up to -pass their summer at the watering-places in Kentucky, had stopped here, -and, finding comfortable lodgment, preferred it to the springs; then -there were many others travelling to the North and East _via_ L----, who -were stopping there. This increased Henry's duties, so that I saw him -but seldom during the day. Once or twice he came to Louise's room, and -told me that he was unusually busy; but that he had earned four dollars -that day, from different persons, in small change, and that he would be -able to make his final payment the next month. - -All this was very encouraging, and I was in unusually fine spirits. As -Louise and I sat talking in the afternoon, she remarked-- - -"Well, Ann, early next month Henry will make his last payment; and we -have concluded to go North the latter part of the same month. When will -Miss Nancy be ready to go?" - -"Oh, she can make her arrangements to start at the same time. I will -speak to her about it this evening." - -And then, as we sat planning about a point of location, a shadow -darkened the door. I looked up--and, after a long separation, despite -both natural and artificial changes, I recognized _Lindy_! I let my -sewing fall from my hands and gazed upon her with as much horror as if -she had been an apparition! Louise spoke kindly to her, and asked her to -walk in. - -"Why, how d'ye do, Ann? I hearn you was livin' in de city, and intended -to come an' see you." - -I stammered out something, and she seated herself near me, and began to -revive old recollections. - -"They are not pleasant, Lindy, and I would rather they should be -forgotten." - -"Laws, I's got a very good home now; but I 'tends to marry some man that -will buy me, and set me free! Now, I's got my eye sot on Henry." - -I trembled violently, but did not trust myself to speak. Louise, -however, in a quick tone, replied: - -"He is engaged, and soon to be married to Ann." - -"Laws! I doesn't b'lieve it; Ann shan't take him from me." - -Though this was said playfully, it was easy for me to detect, beneath -the seeming levity, a strong determination, on her part, to do her very -_worst_. No wonder that I trembled before her, when I remembered how -powerful an enemy she had been in former times. - -With a few other remarks she left, and Louise observed: - -"That Lindy is a queer girl. With all her ignorance and ugliness, she -excites my dread when I am in her presence--a dread of a supposed and -envenomed power, such as the black cat possesses." - -"Such has ever been the feeling, Louise, that she has excited in me. -She has done me harm heretofore; and do you know, I think she means me -ill now. I have uttered this suspicion to Henry and Miss Nancy, but they -both laughed it to scorn--saying _she_ was powerless to injure _me_; but -still my fear remains, and, when I think of her, I grow sick at heart." - -Upon my return home that evening I told Miss Nancy of the meeting with -Lindy, and of the conversation, but she attached no importance to it. - -No one living beneath the vine and fig-tree of Miss Nancy's planting, -and sharing the calm blessedness of her smiles, could be long unhappy! -Her life, as well as words, was a proof that human nature is not all -depraved. In thinking over the rare combination of virtues that her -character set forth, I have marvelled what must have been her childhood. -Certainly she could never have possessed the usual waywardness of -children. Her youth must have been an exception to the general rule. I -cannot conceive her with the pettishness and proneness to quarrel, which -we naturally expect in children. I love to think of her as a quiet -little Miss, discarding the doll and play-house, turning quietly away -from the frolicsome kitten--seeking the leafy shade of the New England -forests--peering with a curious, thoughtful eye into the woodland -dingle--or straining her gaze far up into the blue arch of heaven--or -questioning, with a child's idle speculation, the whence and the whither -of the mysterious wind. 'Tis thus I have pictured her childhood! She was -a strange, gifted, unusual woman;--who, then, can suppose that her -infancy and youth were ordinary? - -To this day her memory is gratefully cherished by hundreds. Many little -pauper children have felt the kindness of her charity; and those who are -now independent remember the time when her bounty rescued them from -want, and "they rise up to call her blessed!" - -Often have I gone with her upon visits and errands of charity. Through -many a dirty alley have those dainty feet threaded a dangerous way; and -up many a dizzy, dismal flight of ricketty steps have I seen them -ascend, and never heard a petulant word, or saw a haughty look upon her -face! She never went upon missions of charity in a carriage, or, if she -was too weak to walk all the way, she discharged the vehicle before she -got in sight of the hovel. "Let us not be ostentatious," she would say, -when I interposed an objection to her taking so long a walk. "Besides," -she added, "let us give no offence to these suffering poor ones. Let -them think we come as sisters to relieve them; not as Dives, flinging to -Lazarus the crumbs of our bounty!" - -Beautiful Christian soul! baptized with the fire of the Holy Ghost, -endowed with the same saintly spirit that rendered lovely the life of -her whom the Saviour called Mother! thou art with the Blessed now! After -a life of earnest, godly piety, thou hast gone to receive thine -inheritance above, and wear the Amaranthine Crown! for thou didst obey -the Saviour's sternest mandate--sold thy possessions, and gave all to -the poor! - - - - -CHAPTER XL. - -THE CRISIS OF EXISTENCE--A DREADFUL PAGE IN LIFE. - - -I have paused much before writing this chapter. I have taken up my pen -and laid it down an hundred times, with the task unfulfilled--the duty -unaccomplished. A nervous sensation, a chill of the heart, have -restrained my pen--yet the record must be made. - -I have that to tell, from which both body and soul shrink. Upon me a -fearful office has been laid! I would that others, with colder blood and -less personal interest, could make this disclosure; but it belongs to my -history; nay, is the very nucleus from which all my reflections upon the -institution of slavery have sprung. Reader, did you ever have a wound--a -deep, almost a mortal wound--whereby your life was threatened, which, -after years of nursing and skilful surgical treatment, had healed, and -was then again rudely torn open? This is my situation. I am going to -tear open, with a rude hand, a deep wound, that time and kind friends -have not availed to cure. But like little, timid children, hurrying -through a dark passage, fearing to look behind them, I shall hasten -rapidly over this part of my life, never pausing to comment upon the -terrible facts I am recording. "I have placed my hand to the -ploughshare, and will not turn back." - -Let me recall that fair and soft evening, in the early September, when -Henry and I, with hand clasped in hand, sat together upon the little -balcony. How sweet-scented was the gale that fanned our brows! The air -was soft and balmy, and the sweet serenity of the hour was broken only -by that ever-pleasant music of the gently-roaring falls! Fair and -queenly sailed the uprisen moon, through a cloudless sea of blue, whilst -a few faint stars, like fire-flies, seemed flitting round her. - -Long we talked of the happiness that awaited us on the morrow. Henry had -arranged to meet his master, Mr. Graham, on that day, and make the final -payment. - -"Dearest, I lack but fifty dollars of the amount," he said, as he laid -his head confidingly on my shoulder. - -"Ten of which I can give you." - -"And the remaining forty I will make up," said Miss Nancy as she stepped -out of the door, and, placing a pocket-book in Henry's hand, she added, -"there is the amount, take it and be happy." - -Whilst he was returning thanks, I went to get my contribution. Drawing -from my trunk the identical ten-dollar note that good Mr. Trueman had -given me, I hastened to present it to Henry, and make out the sum that -was to give us both so much joy. - -"Here, Henry," I exclaimed, as I rejoined them, "are ten dollars, which -kind Mr. Trueman gave me." - -Miss Nancy sighed deeply. I turned around, but she said with a smile: - -"How different is your life now from what it was when that money was -given you." - -"Yes, indeed," I answered; "and, thanks, my noble benefactress, to you -for it." - -"Let me," she continued, without noticing my remark, "see that note." - -I immediately handed it to her. Could I be mistaken? No; she actually -pressed it to her lips! But then she was such a philanthropist, and she -loved the note because it was the means of bringing us happiness. She -handed it back to me with another sigh. - -"When he gave it to me, he bade me receive it as his contribution toward -the savings I was about to lay up for the purchase of myself. Now what -joy it gives me to hand it to you, Henry." He was weeping, and could not -trust his voice to answer. - -"And Ann shall soon be free. Next week we will all start for the North, -and then, my good friends, your white days will commence," said Miss -Nancy. - -"Oh, Heaven bless you, dear saint," cried Henry, whose utterance was -choked by tears. Miss Nancy and I both wept heartily; but mine were -happy tears, grateful as the fragrant April showers! - -"Why this is equal to a camp-meeting," exclaimed Louise, who had, -unperceived by us, entered the front-door, passed through the hall, and -now joined us upon the portico. - -Upon hearing of Henry's good fortune, she began to weep also. - -"Will you not let me make one of the party for the North?" she inquired -of Miss Nancy. - -"Certainly, we shall be glad to have you, Louise; but come, Henry, get -your banjo, and play us a pleasant tune." - -He obeyed with alacrity, and I never heard his voice sound so rich, -clear and ringing. How magnificent he looked, with the full radiance of -the moonlight streaming over his face and form! His long flossy black -hair was thrown gracefully back from his broad and noble brow; whilst -his dark flashing eye beamed with unspeakable joy, and the animation -that flooded his soul lent a thrill to his voice, and a majesty to his -frame, that I had never seen or heard before. Surely I was very proud -and happy as I looked on him then! - -Before we parted, Miss Nancy invited him and Louise to join us in family -devotion. After reading a chapter in the Bible, and a short but eloquent -and impressive prayer, she besought Heaven to shed its most benign -blessings on us; and that our approaching good fortune might not make us -forget Him from whom every good and perfect gift emanated; and thus -closed that delightful evening! - -After Henry had taken an affectionate farewell of me, and departed with -Louise, he, to my surprise, returned in a few moments, and finding the -house still open, called me out upon the balcony. - -"Dearest, I could not resist a strange impulse that urged me to come -back and look upon you once again. How beautiful you are, my love!" he -said as he pushed the masses of hair away from my brow, and imprinted a -kiss thereon. He was so tardy in leaving, that I had to chide him two or -three times. - -"I cannot leave you, darling." - -"But think," I replied, "of the joy that awaits us on the morrow." - -At last, and at Miss Nancy's request, he left, but turned every few -steps to look back at the house. - -"How foolish Henry is to-night," said Miss Nancy, as she withdrew her -head from the open window. "Success and love have made him foolishly -fond!" - -"Quite turned his brain," I replied; "but he will soon be calm again." - -"Oh, yes, he will find that life is an earnest work, as well for the -freeman as the bondsman." - -I lay for a long time on my bed in a state of sleeplessness, and it was -past midnight when I fell asleep, and then, oh, what a terrible dream -came to torture me! I thought I had been stolen off by a kidnapper, and -confined for safe keeping in a charnel-house, an ancient receptacle for -the dead, and there, with blue lights burning round me, I lay amid the -dried bones and fleshless forms of those who had once been living -beings; and the vile and loathsome gases almost stifled me. By that dim -blue light I strove to find some door or means of egress from the -terrible place, and just as I had found the door and was about to fit a -rusty key into the lock, a long, lean body, decked out in shroud, -winding-sheet and cap, with hollow cheek and cadaverous face, and eyes -devoid of all speculation, suddenly seized me with its cold, skeleton -hand. Slowly the face assumed the expression of Lindy's, then faded into -that of Mr. Peterkin's. I attempted to break from it, but I was held -with a vice-like power. With a loud, frantic scream I broke from the -trammels of sleep. A cold, death-like sweat had broken out on my body. -My screaming had aroused Miss Nancy and Biddy. Both came rushing into my -room. - -After a few moments I told them of my dream. - -"A bad attack of incubus," remarked Miss Nancy, "but she is cold; rub -her well, Biddy." - -With a very good will the kind-hearted Irish girl obeyed her. I could -not, however, be prevailed upon to try to sleep again; and as it wanted -but an hour of the dawn, Biddy consented to remain up with me. We -dressed ourselves, and sitting down by the closed window, entered into a -very cheerful conversation. Biddy related many wild legends of the -"_ould country_," in which I took great interest. - -Gradually we saw the stars disappear, and the moon go down, and the pale -gray streaks of dawn in the eastern sky! - -I threw up the windows, exclaiming: "Oh, Biddy, as the day dawns, I -begin to suffocate. I feel just as I did in the dream. Give me air, -quick." More I could not utter, for I fell fainting in the arms of the -faithful girl. She dashed water in my face, chafed my hands and temples, -and consciousness soon returned. - -"Why, happiness and good fortune do excite you strangely; but they say -there are some that it sarves just so." - -"Oh no, Biddy, I am not very well,--a little nervous. I will take some -medicine." - -When I joined Miss Nancy, she refused to let me assist her in dressing, -saying: - -"No, Ann, you look ill. Don't trouble yourself to do anything. Go lie -down and rest." - -I assured her repeatedly that I was perfectly well; but she only smiled, -and said in a commendatory tone, - -"Good girl, good girl!" - -All the morning I was fearfully nervous, starting at every little sound -or noise. At length Miss Nancy became seriously uneasy, and compelled me -to take a sedative. - -As the day wore on, I began to grow calm. The sedative had taken -effect, and my nervousness was allayed. - -I took my sewing in the afternoon, and seated myself in Miss Nancy's -room. Seeing that I was calm, she began a pleasant conversation with me. - -"Henry will be here to-night, Ann, a free man, the owner of himself, the -custodian of his own person, and you must put on your happiest and best -looks to greet him." - -"Ah, Miss Nancy, it seems like too much joy for me to realize. What if -some grim phantom dash down this sparkling cup; just as we are about to -press it to our eager and expectant lips? Such another disappointment I -could not endure." - -"You little goosey, you will mar half of life's joys by these idle -fears." - -"Yes, Miss Nancy," put in Biddy. "Ann is just so narvous ever since that -ugly dream, that she hain't no faith to-day in anything." - -"Have you baked a pretty cake, and got plenty of nice confections ready -to give Henry a celebration supper, good Biddy?" inquired Miss Nancy. - -"Ah, yes, everything is ready, only just look how light and brown my -cake is," and she brought a fine large cake from the pantry, the savory -odor of which would have tempted an anchorite. - -"Then, too," continued the provident Biddy, "the peaches are unusually -soft and sweet. I have pared and sugared them, and they are on the ice -now; oh, we'll have a rale feast." - -"Thanks, thanks, good friends," I said, in a voice choked with emotion. - -"Only just see," exclaimed Biddy, "here comes Louise, running as fast as -her legs will carry her; she's come to be the first to tell you that -Henry is free." - -I rushed with Biddy to the door, and Miss Nancy followed. We were all -eager to hear the good news. - -"Mercy, Louise, what's the matter?" I cried, for her face terrified me. -She was pale as death; her eyes, black and wild, seemed starting from -their sockets, and around her mouth there was that ghastly, livid look, -that almost congealed my blood. - -"Oh, God!" she cried in frenzy, "God have mercy on us all!" and reeled -against the wall. - -"Speak, woman, speak, in heaven's name," I shouted aloud. "Henry! Henry! -Henry! has aught happened to him?" - -"Oh, God!" she said, and her eyes flamed like a fury's; "_he has cut his -throat_, and now lies weltering in his own blood." - -I did not scream, I did not speak. I shed no tears. I did not even close -my eyes. Every sense had turned to stone! For full five minutes I stood -looking in the face of Louise. - -"Why don't you speak, Ann! Cry, imprecate, do something, rather than -stand there with that stony gaze!" said Louise, as she caught me -frantically by the arm. - -"Why did he kill himself?" I asked, in an unfaltering tone. - -"He went, in high spirits, to make his last payment to his master, who -was at the hotel. 'Here, master,' he said, 'is all that I owe you; -please make out the bill of sale, or my free papers.' Mr. Graham took -the money, with a smile, counted it over twice, slowly placed it in his -pocket-book, and said, 'Henry, you are my slave; I hired you to a good -place, where you were well treated; had time to make money for yourself. -Now, according to law, you, as a slave, cannot have or hold property. -Everything, even to your knife, is your master's. All of your earnings -come to me. So, in point of law, I was entitled to all the money that -you have paid me. Legally it was mine, not yours; so I did but receive -from you my own. Notwithstanding all this I was willing to let you have -yourself, and intended to act with you according to our first -arrangement; but upon coming here the other day, a servant girl of Mr. -Bodly's, named Lindy, informed me that you were making preparations to -run off, and cheat me out of the last payment. She stated that you had -told her so; and you intended to start one night this week. I was so -enraged by it, that yesterday I sold you to a negro trader; and you -must start down the river to-morrow.'" - -"'Master, it is a lie of the girl's; I never had any thought of running -off, or cheating you out of your money.' Henry then told him of Lindy's -malice. - -"'Yes, you have proved it was a lie, by coming and paying me: but -nothing can be done now; I have signed the papers, and you are the -property of Atkins. I have not the power to undo what I have done.' - -"'But, Master,' pleaded Henry, 'can't you refund the money that I have -paid you, and let me buy myself from Mr. Atkins?' - -"'Refund the money, indeed! Who ever heard of such impertinence? Have I -not just shown that all that you made was by right of law mine? No; go -down the river, serve your time, work well, and may be in the course of -fifteen or twenty years you may be able to buy yourself.' - -"'Oh, master!' cried out the weeping Henry, 'pity me, please save me, do -something.' - -"'I can do nothing for you; go, get your trunk ready, here comes Mr. -Atkins for you.' - -"Henry turned towards the hard trader, and with a face contracted with -pain, and eyes raining tears, begged for mercy. - -"'Go long you fool of a nigger! an' git ready to go to the pen, without -this fuss, or I'll have you tied with ropes, and taken.' - -"Henry said no more; I had overheard all from an adjoining room. I tried -to avoid him; but he sought me out. - -"'Louise,' he said, in a tone which I shall never forget. - -"'I have heard all,' was my reply. - -"'Will you see Ann for me? Take her a word from me? Tell how it was, -Louise; break the news gently to her.' Here he quite gave up, and, -sinking into a chair, sobbed and cried like a child. - -"'Be a friend to her, Louise; I know that she will need much kindness to -sustain her. Thank Miss Nancy for all her kindness; tell her that I -blest her before I went. Tell Ann to stay with her, and oh, -Louise'--here he wrung his hands in agony--'tell Ann not to grieve for -me; but she mustn't forget me. Poor, wretched outcast that I am, I have -loved her well! After awhile, when time has softened this blow, she must -try to love and be happy with---- No, no, I'll not ask that; only bid -her not be wretched;--but give me pen and ink, I'll write just one word -to her.' - -"I gave him the ink, pen and paper, and he wrote this." - -As Louise drew a soiled, blotted paper from her bosom, I eagerly -snatched it and read: - -"Ann, dearest, Louise will tell you all. Our dream is broken forever! I -_am sold_; but I shall be a slave _no more_. Forgive me for what I am -going to do. Madness has driven me to it! I love you, even in death I -love you. Say farewell to Miss Nancy--I _am gone_!" - -I read it over twice slowly. One scalding tear, large and round, fell -upon it! I know not where it came from, for my eyes were dry as a -parched leaf. - -The note dropped from my hands, almost unnoticed by me. Biddy picked it -up, and handed it to Miss Nancy, who read it and fainted. I moved about -mechanically; assisted in restoring Miss Nancy to consciousness; chafed -her hands and temples; and, when she came to, and burst into a flood of -tears, I soothed her and urged that she would not weep or distress -herself. - -"I wonder that the earth don't open and swallow them," cried the weeping -Biddy. - -"Hush, Biddy, hush!" I urged. - -"They ought to be hung!" - -"'Vengeance is mine, and I will repay, saith the Lord,'" I replied. - -"Oh, Ann, you are crazy!" she uttered. - -And so, in truth, I was. That granite-like composure was a species of -insanity. I comprehended nothing that was going on around me. I was in a -sort of sleep-waking state, when I asked Louise if she thought they -would bury him decently; and gave her a bunch of flowers to place in the -coffin. - -And so my worst suspicion was realized! Through Lindy came my heaviest -blow of affliction! I fear that even now, after the lapse of years, I -have not the Christianity to ask, "Father, forgive her, for she knew not -what she did!" Lying beside me now, dear, sympathetic reader, is _that -note--his last brief words_. Before writing this chapter I read it over. -Old, soiled and worn it was, but by his trembling fingers those blotted -and irregular lines were penned; and to me they are precious, though -they awaken ten thousand bitter emotions! I look at the note but once a -year, and then on the fatal anniversary, which occurs to-day! I have -pressed it to my heart, and hearsed it away, not to be re-opened for -another year. This is the blackest chapter in my dark life, and you will -feel, with me, glad that it is about to close. I have nerved myself for -the duty of recording it, and, now that it is over, I sink down faint -and broken-hearted beside the accomplished task. - - - - -CHAPTER XLI. - -A REVELATION--DEATH THE PEACEFUL ANGEL--CALMNESS. - - -Months passed by after the events told in the last chapter--_passed_, I -scarce know how. They have told me that I wandered about like one in the -mazes of a troubled dream. My reason was disturbed. I've no distinct -idea how the days or weeks were employed. Vague remembrances of kindly -words, music, odorous flowers, and a trip to a beautiful, quiet -country-house, I sometimes have; but 'tis all so misty and dream-like, -that I can form no tangible idea of it. So this period has almost faded -out of mind, and is like lost pages from the chronicle of life. - -When the winter was far spent, and during the snowy days of February, my -mind began to collect its shattered forces. The approach of another -trouble brought back consciousness with rekindled vigor. - -One day I became aware that Miss Nancy was very ill. It seemed as if a -thick vapor, like a breath-stain on glass, had suddenly been wiped away -from my mind; and I saw clearly. There lay Miss Nancy upon her bed, -appallingly white, with her large eyes sunken deeply in their sockets, -and her lips purple as an autumn leaf. Her thin, white hand, with -discolored nails, was thrown upon the covering, and aroused my alarm. I -rushed to her, fearing that the vital spark no longer animated that -loved and once lovely frame. - -"Miss Nancy, dear Miss Nancy," I cried, "speak to me, only one word." - -She started nervously, "Oh, who are you? Ah, Ann--is it Ann?" - -"Yes, dear Miss Nancy, it is _I_. It appears as though a film had been -removed from my eyes, and I see how selfish I have been. You have -suffered for my attention. What has been the matter with me?" - -"Oh, dear child, a fearful dispensation of Providence was sent you; and -from the chastisement you are about recovering. Thank God, that you are -still the mistress of your reason! For its safety, I often trembled. I -did all for you that I could; but I was fearful that human skill would -be of no avail." - -"Thanks, my kind friend, and sorry I am for all the anxiety and -uneasiness that I have given you." - -"Oh, I am repaid, or rather was pre-paid for all and more, you were so -kind to me." - -Here Biddy entered, and I took down the Bible and read a few chapters -from the book of Job. - -"What a comfort that book is to us," said Biddy. "Many's the time, Ann, -that Miss Nancy read it to you, when you'd sit an' look so -wandering-like; but you are well now, Ann, an' all will be right with -us." - -"_All_ can never be, Biddy, as once it _was_," and I shook my head. - -"Oh, don't spake of it," and she wiped her moist eyes with her apron. - -Days and weeks passed on thus smoothly, during which time Louise came -often to see us; but the fatal sorrow was never alluded to. By common -consent all avoided it. - -Daily, hourly, Miss Nancy's health sank. I never saw the footsteps of -the grim monster approach more rapidly than in her case. The wasting of -her cheek was like the eating of a worm at the heart of a rose. - -Her bed was wheeled close to the fire, and I read, all the pleasant -mornings, some cheerful book to her. - -Her brother came often, and sat with her through the evenings. Many of -her friends and neighbors offered to watch with her at night; but she -bade me decline all such kindness. - -"You and Biddy are enough. I want no others. Let me die calmly, in the -presence of, my own household, with no unusual faces around," she said -in a low tone. - -She talked about her death as though it were some long journey upon -which she was about starting; gave directions how she should be -shrouded; what kind of coffin we must get, tomb-stone, &c. She enjoined -that we inscribe nothing but her age and name upon the tomb-stone. - -"I wish no ostentatious slab, no false eulogium; my name and age are all -the epitaph I deserve, and all that I will have." - -Several ministers came to see her, and held prayer. She received them -kindly, and spoke at length with some. - -"I shall meet the great change with resignation. I had hoped, Ann, to -see you well settled somewhere in the North; but that will be denied me. -In my will, I have remembered both you and Biddy. I have no parting -advice for either of you; for you are both, though of different faith, -consistent Christians. I hope we shall meet hereafter. You must not -weep, girls, for it pains me to think I leave you troubled." - -When Biddy withdrew, she called me to her, saying, - -"Ann, I am feeble, draw near the bed whilst I talk to you. I hold here -in my hand a letter from my nephew, Robert Worth." - -"Robert Worth? Why I--" - -"Yes, he says that he was at Mr. Peterkin's and remembers you well. He -also speaks of Emily Bradly, who is now in Boston; says that she -recollects you well, and is pleased to hear of your good fortune. Robert -is the son of my elder sister, who is now deceased; a favorite he always -was of mine. He read law in Mr. Trueman's office, and has a very -successful practice at the Boston bar. Long time ago, Ann, when I was a -young, blooming girl, my sister Lydia (Robert's mother) and I were at -school at a very celebrated academy in the North. During one of our -vacations, when we were on a visit to Boston--for we were country -girls--we were introduced to two young barristers, William Worth and -Justinian Trueman. They were strong personal friends. - -"The former became much attached to my sister, and came frequently to -see her. Justinian Trueman came also. By the force of circumstance, Mr. -Trueman and I were thrown much together. From his lofty conversation and -noble principles, I gained great advantage. I loved to listen to his -candid avowal of free, democratic principles. How bravely he set aside -conventionality and empty forms; he was a searcher after the soul of -things! He was the very essence of honor, always ready to sacrifice -himself for others, and daily and hourly crucified his heart! - -"Chance threw us much together, as I have said. You may infer what -ensued. Two persons so similar in nature, so united in purpose (though -he was vastly my superior), could not associate much and long together -without a feeling of love springing up! Our case did not differ from -that of others. _We loved._ Not as the careless or ordinary love; but -with a fervor, a depth of passion, and a concentration of soul, which -nothing in life could destroy. - -"My sister was the chosen bride of William Worth. This fact was known to -all the household. Justinian and I read in each other's manner the -secret of the heart. - -"At length, in one brief hour, he told me his story; he was the only -child of a widowed mother, who had spent her all upon his education. -Whilst he was away, her wants had been tenderly ministered to by a very -lovely young girl of wealth and social position. Upon her death-bed his -mother besought him to marry this lady. He was then inflamed with -gratitude, and, being free in heart, he mistook the nature of his -feelings. Whilst in this state of mind, he offered himself to her and -was instantly accepted. Afterwards when we met he understood how he had -been beguiled! - -"He wrote to his betrothed, told her the state of his feelings, that he -loved another; but declared his willingness to redeem his promise, and -stand by his engagement if she wished. - -"How anxiously we both awaited her reply! It came promptly, and she -desired, nay demanded, the fulfilment of the engagement; even reminded -him of his promise to his mother, and of the obligation he was under to -herself. - -"No tongue can describe the agony that we both endured; yet principle -must be obeyed. We parted. They were married. Twice afterwards I saw -him. He was actively engaged in his profession; but the pale cheek and -earnest look told me that he still thought lovingly of me! My sister -married William Worth, and resided in Boston; but her husband died early -in life, leaving his only child Robert to the care of Mr. Trueman. After -my mother's death, possessing myself of my patrimony, I removed west, to -this city, where my brother lived. I had been separated from him for a -number of years, and was surprised to find how entirely a Southern -residence had changed him. Owing to some little domestic difficulties, I -declined remaining in his family. - -"Last winter, when Justinian Trueman was here, I was out of the city; -and it was well that I was, for I could not have met him again. Old -feelings, that should be cradled to rest, would have been aroused! My -brother saw him, and told me that he looked well. - -"Now, is it not strange that you should have been an object of such -especial interest to both of us? It seems as though you were a centre -around which we were once more re-united. I have written him a long -letter, which I wish you to deliver upon your arrival in Boston." Here -she drew from the portfolio that was lying on the bed beside her, a -sealed letter, directed to Justinian Trueman, Boston, Mass. - -I was weeping violently when I took it from her. - -She lingered thus for several weeks, and on a calm Sabbath morning, as I -was reading to her from the Bible, she said to me-- - -"Ann, I am sleepy; my eyelids are closing; turn me over." - -As I attempted to do it she pressed my hand tightly, straightened her -body out, and the last struggle was over! I was alone with her. Laying -her gently upon the pillow, I for the first time in my life pressed my -lips to that cold, marble brow. I felt that she, holy saint, would not -object to it, were she able to speak. I then called Biddy in to assist -me. She was loud in her lamentation. - -"She bade us not weep for her, Biddy. She is happier now;" but, though I -spoke this in a composed tone, my heart was all astir with emotion. - -Soon her brother came in, bringing with him a minister. He received the -mournful intelligence with subdued grief. - -We robed her for Death's bridal, e'en as she had requested, in white -silk, flannel, and white gloves. Her coffin was plain mahogony, with a -plate upon the top, upon which were engraved her name, age, and -birth-place. - -A funeral sermon was preached, by a minister who had been a strong -personal friend. In a retired portion of the public burial-ground we -made her last bed. A simple tombstone, as she directed, was placed over -the grave, her name, age, &c., inscribed thereon. - -Bridget and I slept in the same house that night. We could not be -persuaded to leave it, and there, in Miss Nancy's dear, familiar room, -we held, as usual, family devotion. I almost fancied that she stood in -the midst, and was gazing well-pleased upon us. - -That night I slept profoundly. My rest had been broken a great deal, and -now the knowledge that duty did not keep me awake, enabled me to sleep -well. - -On the next day Mr. Worth arrived, and was much distressed to find that -he was too late to see his aunt alive. - -Though he looked older and more serious than when I last saw him, I -readily recognized the same noble expression of face. He received me -very kindly, and thanked Biddy and me for our attentions to his beloved -aunt. He showed us a letter she had written, in which she spoke of us in -the kindest manner, and recommended us to his care. - -"Neither of you shall ever lack for friendship whilst I live," he said, -as he warmly shook us by the hands. - -He told me that he had ever retained a vivid recollection of my sad -face; and inquired about "young Master." When I told him that he was -dead, and gave an account of his life and sufferings, Mr. Worth -remarked-- - -"Ah, yes, he was one of heaven's angels, lent us only for a short -season." - -I accompanied him to his aunt's grave. - - * * * * * * - -Upon the reading of the will, it was discovered that Miss Nancy had -liberated me, and left me, as a legacy, four thousand dollars, with the -request that I would live somewhere in the North. To Biddy she had left -a bequest of three thousand dollars; the remainder of her fortune, after -making a donation to her brother, was left to her nephew, Robert Worth. - -The will was instantly carried into effect; as it met with no -opposition, and she owed no debts, matters were arranged satisfactorily; -and we prepared for departure. - -Louise had made all her arrangements to go with us. I was now a free -woman, in the possession of a comparative fortune; yet I was not happy. -Alas! I had out-lived all for which money and freedom were valuable, and -I cared not how the remainder of my days were spent. Why cannot the -means of happiness come to us when we have the capacity for enjoyment? - -On the evening before our departure, I called Louise to me and asked, - -"Where is Henry's grave?" It was the first time since that fatal day -that I had mentioned his name to her. - -"He is buried far away, in a plain, unmarked grave; but, even if it were -near, you should not go," she replied. - -"Tell me, who found him, after--after--after _the murder_?" - -"Mr. Graham and Atkins went in search of him, and I followed them; -though he had told me what he was going to do, Ann, I could not oppose -or even dissuade him." - -I wept freely; and, as is always the case, was relieved by it. - -"I am glad to see that you can weep. It will do you good," said Louise. - - - - -CHAPTER XLII - -CONCLUSION. - - -But little more remains to be told of my history. - -When Louise, Biddy and I, under the protection of Mr. Worth, sailed on a -pleasant steamer from the land of slavery, I could but thank my God that -I was leaving forever the State, beneath the sanction of whose laws the -vilest outrages and grossest inhumanities were committed! - -Our trip would, indeed, have been delightful, but that I was constantly -contrasting it in my own mind with what it might have been, had HE not -fallen a victim to the white man's cupidity. - -Often I stole away from the company, and, in the privacy of my own room, -gave vent to my pent-up grief. Biddy and Louise were in ecstacies with -everything that they saw. - -All along the route, after passing out of the Slave States, we met with -kind friends and genuine hospitality. The Northern people are noble, -generous, and philanthropic; and it affords me pleasure to record here a -tribute to their worth and kindness. - -In New York we met with the best of friends. Everywhere I saw smiling, -black faces; a sight rarely beheld in the cities and villages of the -South. I saw men and women of the despised race, who walked with erect -heads and respectable carriage, as though they realized that they were -men and women, not mere chattels. - -When we reached Boston I was made to feel this in a particular manner. -There I met full-blooded Africans, finely educated, in the possession of -princely talents, occupying good positions, wielding a powerful -political influence, and illustrating, in their lives, the oft-disputed -fact, that the African intellect is equal to the Caucasian. Soon after -my arrival in Boston I found out, from Mr. Worth, the residence of Mr. -Trueman, and called to see him. - -I was politely ushered by an Irish waiter into the study, where I found -Mr. Trueman engaged with a book. At first he did not recognize me; but I -soon made myself known, and received from him a most hearty welcome. - -I related all the incidents in my life that had occurred since I had -seen him last. He entered fully into my feelings, and I saw the tear -glisten in his calm eyes when I spoke of poor Henry's awful fate. - -I told him of Miss Nancy's kindness, and the tears rolled down his -cheeks. I did not speak of what she had told me in relation to their -engagement; I merely stated that she had referred to him as a particular -personal friend, and when I gave him the letter he received it with a -tremulous hand, uttered a fearful groan, and buried his face among the -papers that lay scattered over his table. Without a spoken good-bye, I -withdrew. - -I saw him often after this; and from him received the most signal acts -of kindness. He thanked me many times for what he termed my fidelity to -his sainted friend. He never spoke of her without a quiver of the lip, -and I honored him for his constancy. - -He strongly urged me to take up my residence in Boston; but I remembered -that Henry's preference had always been for a New England village; and I -loved to think that I was following out his views, and so I removed to a -quiet puritanical little town in Massachusetts. - -And here I now am engaged in teaching a small school of African -children; happy in the discharge of so sacred a duty. 'Tis surprising to -see how rapidly they learn. I am interested, and so are they, in the -work: and thus what with some teachers is an irksome task, is to me a -pleasing duty. - -I should state for the benefit of the curious, that Biddy is living in -Boston, happily married to "a countryman," and is the proud mother of -several blooming children. She comes to visit me sometimes, during the -heat of summer, and is always a welcome guest. - -Louise, too, has consented to wear matrimony's easy yoke. She lives in -the same village with me. Our social and friendly relations still -continue. I have frequently, when visiting Boston, met Miss Bradly. She, -like me, has never married. She has grown to be a firmer and more -earnest woman than she was in Kentucky. I must not omit to mention the -fact, that when travelling through Canada, I by the rarest chance met -Ben--Amy's treasure--now grown to be a fine-looking youth. - -He had a melancholy story--a life, like every other slave's, full of -trouble--but at length, by the sharpest ingenuity, he had made his -escape, and reached, after many difficulties, the golden shores of -Canada! - -Now my history has been given--a round, unvarnished tale it is; and -thus, without ornament, I send it forth to the world. I have spoken -freely; at times, I grant, with a touch of bitterness, but never without -truth; and I ask the wise, the considerate, the earnest, if I have not -had cause for bitterness. Who can carp at me? That there are some fiery -Southerners who will assail me, I doubt not; but I feel satisfied that I -have discharged a duty that I solemnly owed to my oppressed and -down-trodden nation. I am calm and self-possessed; I have passed firmly -through the severest ordeal of persecution, and have been spared the -death that has befallen many others. Surely I was saved for some wise -purpose, and I fear nought from those who are fanatically wedded to -wrong and inhumanity. Let them assail me as they will, I shall still -feel that - - - "Thrice is he armed who has his quarrel just, - And he but naked, though wrapped up in steel, - Whose bosom with injustice is polluted." - - -But there are others, some even in slave States, kind, noble, thoughtful -persons, earnest seekers after the highest good in life and nature; to -them I consign my little book, sincerely begging, that through my weak -appeal, my poor suffering brothers and sisters, who yet wear the galling -yoke of American slavery, may be granted a hearing. - -From the distant rice-fields and sugar plantations of the fervid South, -comes a frantic wail from the wronged, injured, and oh, how innocent -African! Hear it; hear that cry, Christians of the North, let it ring in -your ears with its fearful agony! Hearken to it, ye who feast upon the -products of African labor! Let it stay you in the use of those -commodities for which their life-blood, aye more, their soul's life, is -drained out drop by drop! Talk no more, ye faint-hearted politicians, of -"expediency." God will not hear your lame excuse in that grand and awful -day, when He shall come in pomp and power to judge the quick and dead. - -And so, my history, go forth and do thy mission! knock at the doors of -the lordly and wealthy: there, by the shaded light of rosy lamps, tell -your story. Creep in at the broken crevice of the poor man's cabin, and -there make your complaint. Into the ear of the brave, energetic -mechanic, sound the burden of your grief. To the strong-hearted -blacksmith, sweating over his furnace, make yourself heard; and ask -them, one and all, shall this unjust institution of slavery be -perpetuated? Shall it dare to desecrate, with its vile presence, the new -territories that are now emphatically free? Shall Nebraska and Kansas -join in a blood-spilling coalition with the South? - -Answer proudly, loudly, brave men; and answer, _No, No!_ My work is -done. - - - - -REDFIELD'S PUBLICATIONS.--POETRY AND THE DRAMA. - - -POETRY AND THE DRAMA. - -The Works of Shakespeare, reprinted from the newly-discovered copy of -the Folio of 1632, in the possession of J. PAYNE COLLIER, with numerous -Illustrations. One vol. Imperial 8vo. Cloth, $4; sheep, $4 25; half -morocco, plain, $5 00; marble edges, $5 50; half calf, or morocco extra, -$6 00; full morocco, antique, $7 00. - -Same as above, cheap edition, cloth, $3 00; sheep, $3 50; imitation -morocco, full gilt, $4 00. - -The Works of Shakespeare, same as above. Uniform in size with the -celebrated Chiswick Edition, 8 vols. 16mo, cloth, $6 00; half calf or -morocco, plain, $10 00; half calf or morocco, extra, $12 00. - -Notes and Emendations of Shakespeare. Notes and Emendations to the Text -of Shakespeare's Plays, from the Early Manuscript Corrections in a copy -of the folio of 1632, in the possession of JOHN PAYNE COLLIER, F. S. A. -Third edition, with a fac-simile of the Manuscript Corrections. 1 vol., -12mo., cloth. Price $1 50. - -Lilian, and other Poems. By WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED. Now first -collected. 1 vol., 12mo. Price $1 00. - -Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers. By WILLIAM E. AYTOUN, Professor of -Literature and Belles-Lettres in the University of Edinburgh, and Editor -of Blackwood's Magazine. 1 vol., 12mo, cloth. Price $1 00. - -Firmilian; a Spasmodic Tragedy. By T. PERCY JONES [W. E. Aytoun]. Price -50 cents. - -The Book of Ballads. By BON GAULTIER. 1 vol. 12mo, cloth. Price 75 -cents. - -Poetical Works of Fitz-Greene Halleck. New and only Complete Edition, -containing several New Poems, together with many now first collected. 1 -vol., 12mo. Price $1 00. - -Simms' Poetical Works. Poems: Descriptive, Dramatic, Legendary, and -Contemplative. By WM. GILMORE SIMMS. With a Portrait on steel. 2 vols., -12mo, cloth. Price $2 50. - -Lyra, and other Poems. By ALICE CAREY. 1 vol., 12mo, cloth. Price 75 -cents. - -The Poetical Works of W. H. C. Hosmer. Now first collected. With a -Portrait on steel. 2 vols., 12mo. Price $2 00. - -Scottish Songs, Ballads, and Poems. By HEW AINSLIE, author of "The -Ingleside," "On with the Tartan," "Rover of Loch-Ryan," &c., &c. 1 vol., -12mo. Price $1 00. - -The Poets and Poetry of Ireland. 1 vol., 8vo, with Plates. Edited by Dr. -R. SHELTON MACKENZIE. [In Press.] - -Oliatta, and other Poems. By HOWARD H. CALDWELL. 12mo, cloth Price $1 -00. - - -HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY - -Ancient Egypt under the Pharaohs. By JOHN KENRICK, M.A. In 2 vols., -12mo. Price $2 50. - -Newman's Regal Rome. An Introduction to Roman History. By FRANCIS W. -NEWMAN, Professor of Latin in the University College, London. 12mo, -cloth. Price 63 cents. - -The Catacombs of Rome, as Illustrating the Church of the First Three -Centuries. By the Right Rev. W. INGRAHAM KIP, D.D., Missionary Bishop of -California. Author of "Christmas Holidays in Rome," "Early Conflicts of -Christianity," &c., &c. With over 100 Illustrations. 12mo, cloth. Price -75 cents. - -The History of the Crusades. By JOSEPH FRANÇOIS MICHAUD. Translated by -W. Robson. 3 vols., 12mo, Maps. Price $3 75. - -Napoleon in Exile; or, a Voice from St. Helena. Being the Opinions and -Reflections of Napoleon, on the most important Events in his Life and -Government, in his own words. By BARRY E. O'MEARA, his late Surgeon; -with a Portrait of Napoleon, after the celebrated picture of Delaroche, -and a view of St. Helena, both beautifully engraved on steel. 2 vols., -12mo, cloth. Price $2 00. - -Jomini's Campaign of Waterloo. The Political and Military History of the -Campaign of Waterloo, from the French of General Baron Jomini. By Lieut. -S. V. BENET, U. S. Ordnance, with a Map. 12mo, cloth. Price 75 cents. - -Napier's Peninsular War. History of the War in the Peninsula, and in the -South of France, from the Year 1807 to 1814. By W. F. P. NAPIER, C. B., -Colonel 43d Regiment, &c. Complete in 1 vol., 8vo. Price $2 50. - -Napier's Peninsular War. History of the War in the Peninsula, and in the -South of France, from the Year 1807 to 1814. By W. F. P. NAPIER, C. B., -Colonel 43d Regiment, &c. In 5 vols., 12mo, with Portraits and Plans. -Price $6 25. [In Press.] - -Discovery and Exploration of the Mississippi Valley. With the Original -Narratives of Marquette, Allouez, Membré, Hennepin, and Anastase Douay. -By JOHN GILMARY SHEA. With a fac-simile of the Original Map of -Marquette. 1 vol., 8vo, cloth, antique. Price $2. - -Narrative of a Voyage to the Northwest Coast of America, in the Years -1811-'12-'13 and 1814; or, the First Settlement on the Pacific. By -GABRIEL FRANCHÈRE. Translated and Edited by J. V. HUNTINGTON. 12mo, -cloth. Plates. Price $1 00. - -Las Cases' Napoleon. Memoirs of the Life, Exile, and Conversations of -the Emperor Napoleon. By the Count LAS CASES. With Portraits on steel, -woodcuts, &c. 4 vols., 12mo, cloth, $4 00, half calf or morocco extra, -$8 00. - -Life of the Rt. Hon. John Philpot Curran. By his Son, Wm. Henry Curran; -with Notes and Additions, by Dr. R. SHELTON MACKENZIE, and a Portrait on -Steel. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -Sketches of the Irish Bar. By the Right Hon. Richard Lalor Sheil, M. P. -Edited, with a Memoir and Notes, by Dr. R. SHELTON MACKENZIE. Fourth -Edition. In 2 vols. Price $2 00. - -Barrington's Sketches. Personal Sketches of his Own Time. By SIR JONAH -BARRINGTON, Judge of the High Court of Admiralty in Ireland; with -Illustrations by Darley. Third Edition. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -Moore's Life of Sheridan. Memoirs of the Life of the Rt. Hon. Richard -Brinsley Sheridan. By THOMAS MOORE; with Portrait after Sir Joshua -Reynolds. 2 vols., 12mo, cloth. Price $2 00. - -Men of the Time, or Sketches of Living Notables, Authors, Architects, -Artists, Composers, Demagogues, Divines, Dramatists, Engineers, -Journalists, Ministers, Monarchs, Novelists, Politicians, Poets, -Philanthropists, Preachers, Savans, Statesmen, Travellers, Voyagers, -Warriors. 1 vol., 12mo. Containing nearly Nine Hundred Biographical -Sketches. Price $1 50. - -Lorenzo Benoni; or, Passages in the Life of an Italian. Edited by a -Friend. 1 vol., 12mo. $1 00. - -The Workingman's Way in the World. Being the Autobiography of a -Journeyman Printer. By CHARLES MANBY SMITH, Author of "Curiosities of -London life." 12mo, cloth. Price $1 00. - -Classic and Historic Portraits. By JAMES BRUCE. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 -00. - -Ladies of the Covenant. Memoirs of Distinguished Scottish Females, -embracing the Period of the Covenant and the Persecution. By Rev. JAMES -ANDERSON. 1 vol., 12mo. Price $1 25. - -Tom Moore's Suppressed Letters. Notes from the Letters of Thomas Moore -to his Music-Publisher, James Power (the publication of which was -suppressed in London), with an Introductory Letter from Thomas Crofton -Croker, Esq., F. S. A. With four Engravings on steel. 12mo, cloth. Price -$1 50. - -Fifty Years in Both Hemispheres; or, Reminiscences of a Merchant's Life. -By VINCENT NOLTE. 12mo. Price $1 25. (Eighth Edition.) - -Men and Women of the Eighteenth Century. By ARSENE HOUSSAYE. With -beautifully-engraved Portraits of Louis XV. and Madame de Pompadour. 2 -vols., 12mo, 450 pages each, extra super-fine paper. Price $2 50. - -Philosophers and Actresses. By ARSENE HOUSSAYE. With -beautifully-engraved Portraits of Voltaire and Madame Parabèra, 2 vols., -12mo. Price $2 50. - -Life of the Honorable William H. Seward, with Selections from his Works. -Edited by GEORGE E. BAKER. 12mo, cloth Portrait. Price $1 00. - -The History of Texas, from its Settlement in 1685 to its Annexation to -the United States. By H. YOAKUM, Esq., of the Texas Bar; with Portraits, -Maps, and Plans. 2 vols., 8vo, cloth or sheep. Price $5 00. [In Press.] - -The History of Louisiana--Spanish Domination. By CHARLES GAYARRE. 8vo, -cloth. Price $2 50. - -The History of Louisiana--French Domination. By CHARLES GAYARRE. 2 -vols., 8vo, cloth. Price $3 50. - -The Life of P. T. Barnum, written by himself; in which he narrates his -early history as Clerk, Merchant, and Editor, and his later career as a -Showman. With a Portrait on steel, and numerous Illustrations by Darley. -1 vol., 12mo. Price $1 25. - -A Memorial of Horatio Greenough, consisting of a Memoir, Selections from -his Writings, and Tributes to his Genius, by HENRY T. TUCKERMAN, Author -of "Sicily, a Pilgrimage," "A Month in England," &c., &c. 12mo, cloth. -Price 75 cents. - -Minnesota and its Resources; to which are appended Camp-Fire Sketches, -or Notes of a Trip from St. Paul to Pembina and Selkirk Settlements on -the Red River of the North. By J. WESLEY BOND. With a New Map of the -Territory, a View of St. Paul, and one of the Falls of St. Anthony. 1 -vol., 12mo, cloth. Price $1 00. - -The Private Life of an Eastern King. By a Member of the Household of his -Late Majesty, Nussir-u-deen, King of Oude. 12mo, cloth. Price 75 cents. - -Doran's Queens of England. The Queens of England, of the House of -Hanover. By Dr. DORAN, Author of "Table Traits," "Habits and Men," &c. 2 -vols., 12mo, cloth. Price $2 00 - - -BELLES-LETTRES. - -+Revolutionary Tales+, by WM. GILMORE SIMMS, Esq. New and Revised -Editions, with Illustrations by Darley. - -The Partisan; A Romance of the Revolution. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -Mellichampe; A Legend of the Santee. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -Katharine Walton; or, The Rebel of Dorchester. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -The Scout; or, The Black Riders of the Congaree. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 -25. - -Woodcraft; or, The Hawks about the Dovecote. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -The Forayers; or, The Raid of the Dog-Days. A New Revolutionary Romance. -12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -Entaw. A New Revolutionary Romance. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - - -+Simms's Border Romances of the South+, New and Revised Editions, with -Illustrations by Darley. Uniform with SIMMS'S REVOLUTIONARY TALES. - -I. Guy Rivers. A Tale of Georgia. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -II. Richard Hurdis. A Tale of Alabama. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -III. Border Beagles. A Tale of Mississippi. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -IV. Charlemont. A Tale of Kentucky. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -V. Beauchampe; or, The Kentucky Tragedy. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -VI. Confession; or, The Blind Heart. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - - -The Yemassee; A Romance of South Carolina. By WM. GILMORE SIMMS, Esq. -12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -Southward, Ho! a Spell of Sunshine. By WM. GILMORE SIMMS, Esq. 12mo, -cloth. Price $1 25. - -The Noctes Ambrosianæ. By Professor WILSON, J. G. LOCKHART, JAMES HOGG, -and Dr. MAGINN. Edited, with Memoirs and Notes, by Dr. R. SHELTON -MACKENZIE. In 5 volumes. Price $5 00. - -The Odoherty Papers; forming the first portion of the Miscellaneous -Writings of the late Dr. MAGINN. With an Original Memoir, and copious -Notes, by Dr. R. SHELTON MACKENZIE. 2 vols. Price $2 00. - -The Shakespeare Papers, and the Homeric Ballads; forming Vol. III. of -the Miscellaneous Writings of the late Dr. MAGINN. Edited by Dr. R. -SHELTON MACKENZIE. [In Press.] - -Bits of Blarney. By Dr. R. SHELTON MACKENZIE, Editor of "Sheil's -Sketches of the Irish Bar," "Noctes Ambrosianæ," &c. 12mo, cloth. Price -$1 00. - -Table Traits. By Dr. DORAN, Author of "Habits and Men," &c. 12mo, cloth. -$1 25. - -Habits and Men. By Dr. DORAN, Author of "Table Traits," "The Queens of -England under the House of Hanover." 12mo, Price $1 00. - -Calavar; The Knight of the Conquest. A Romance of Mexico. By the late -Dr. ROBERT MONTGOMERY BIRD, Author of "Nick of the Woods;" with -Illustrations by Darley. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -Nick of the Woods, or the Jibbenainosay. A Tale of Kentucky. By the late -Dr. ROBERT MONTGOMERY BIRD, Author of "Calavar," "The Infidel," &c. New -and Revised Edition, with Illustrations by Darley. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 -25. - -The Pretty Plate; A New and Beautiful Juvenile. By JOHN VINCENT. -Illustrated by Darley. 1 vol., 16mo, cloth, gilt. Price 50 cents; extra -gilt edges, 75 cents. - -Vasconselos. A Romance of the New World. By FRANK COOPER. 12mo, cloth. -Price $1 25. - -A Stray Yankee in Texas. By PHILIP PAXTON. With Illustrations by Darley. -Second Edition. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -The Wonderful Adventures of Capt. Priest. By PHILIP PAXTON. With -Illustrations by Darley. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 00. - -Western Characters; being Types of Border Life in the Western States. By -J. L. M'CONNEL, Author of "Talbot and Vernon," "The Glenns," &c., &c. -With Six Illustrations by Darley. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -The Master-Builder; or, Life at a Trade. By DAY KELLOGG LEE. 1 vol., -12mo. Price $1 00. - -Merrimack; or, Life at the Loom. By DAY KELLOGG LEE. 1 vol., 12mo. Price -$1 00. - - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A FEMALE SLAVE *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where - you are located before using this eBook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that: - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - diff --git a/old/55813-0.zip b/old/55813-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 7b55c33..0000000 --- a/old/55813-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/55813-h.zip b/old/55813-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 65c2aa5..0000000 --- a/old/55813-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/55813-h/55813-h.htm b/old/55813-h/55813-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index ed99521..0000000 --- a/old/55813-h/55813-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,16148 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> - -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Autobiography of a Female Slave, by Martha Griffith Browne - </title> - <style type="text/css"> - - p { margin-top: .75em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .75em; - } - - p.bold {text-align: center; font-weight: bold;} - p.bold2 {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: 150%;} - - h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; - } - h1 span, h2 span { display: block; text-align: center; } - #id1 { font-size: smaller } - - - hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; - } - - hr.smler { - width: 5%; - margin-top: 1em; - margin-bottom: 1em; - margin-left: 47.5%; - margin-right: 47.5%; - clear: both; - } - - body{margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; - } - - table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 5px; border-collapse: collapse; border: none; text-align: right;} - - .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - text-indent: 0px; - } /* page numbers */ - - .center {text-align: center;} - .smaller {font-size: smaller;} - .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - .mynote { background-color: #DDE; color: black; padding: .5em; margin-left: 20%; - margin-right: 20%; } /* colored box for notes at beginning of file */ - .space-above {margin-top: 3em;} - .left {text-align: left;} - .s15 {display: inline; margin-left: 15em;} - - .poem {display: inline-block; text-align: left;} - .poem br {display: none;} - .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} - .poem div {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem div.i1 {margin-left: 1em;} - .poem div.i6 {margin-left: 6em;} - - </style> - </head> -<body> - -<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Autobiography of a Female Slave, by Martha Griffith Browne</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Autobiography of a Female Slave</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Martha Griffith Browne</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: October 25, 2017 [eBook #55813]<br /> -[Most recently updated: December 17, 2022]</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: MFR, Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team</div> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A FEMALE SLAVE ***</div> - -<div class = "mynote"><p class="center">Transcriber's Note:<br /><br /> -Obvious typographic errors have been corrected.<br /></p></div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="center"><a name="cover.jpg" id="cover.jpg"></a><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="cover" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[Pg i]</a></span></p> - -<h1>AUTOBIOGRAPHY<br />OF A<br />FEMALE SLAVE</h1> - -<p class="space-above"> </p> - -<div class="center"><img src="images/dec.jpg" alt="decoration" /></div> - -<p class="bold space-above">REDFIELD<br />34 BEEKMAN STREET, NEW YORK<br />1857</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[Pg ii]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center">Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856, by<br /> -J. S. REDFIELD,<br />In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New York.</p> - -<p class="center space-above">E. O. JENKINS,<br />Printer and Stereotyper,<br /> -<span class="smcap">No. 26 Frankfort Street</span>.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[Pg iii]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center">TO ALL PERSONS<br /><br /> -INTERESTED IN THE CAUSE OF FREEDOM,<br /><br />This little Book<br /><br /> -IS<br /><br />RESPECTFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED,<br /><br /> -BY<br /><br /><span class="s15"> </span>THE AUTHOR.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> - -<hr class="smler" /> - -<table summary="CONTENTS"> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER I.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td></td> - <td><span class="smaller">PAGE</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">The Old Kentucky Farm—My Parentage and Early Training—Death of the Master—The -Sale-day—New Master and New Home,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER II.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">A View of the New Home,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_19">19</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER III.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">The Yankee School-Mistress—Her Philosophy—The American Abolitionists,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_29">29</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER IV.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">Conversation with Miss Bradly—A Light Breaks through the Darkness,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_32">32</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER V.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">A Fashionable Tea-Table—Table-Talk—Aunt Polly's Experience—The Overseer's -Authority—The Whipping-Post—Transfiguring Power of Divine Faith,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER VI.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">Restored Consciousness—Aunt Polly's Account of my Miraculous Return to Life—The -Master's Affray with the Overseer,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER VII.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">Amy's Narrative, and her Philosophy of a Future State,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_58">58</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER VIII.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">Talk at the Farm-House—Threats—The New Beau—Lindy,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER IX.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">Lindy's Boldness—A Suspicion—The Master's Accountability—The Young Reformer—Words -of Hope—The Cultivated Mulatto—The Dawn of Ambition,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_76">76</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER X.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">The Conversation, in which Fear and Suspicion are Aroused—The Young Master,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XI.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">The Flight—Young Master's Apprehensions—His Conversation—Amy—Edifying Talk -among Ladies,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XII.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">Mr. Peterkin's Rage—Its Escape—Chat at the Breakfast-Table—Change of Views—Power -of the Flesh-pots,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_101">101</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XIII.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">Recollections—Consoling Influence of Sympathy—Amy's Doctrine of the Soul—Talk -at the Spring,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_107">107</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XIV.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">The Prattlings of Insanity—Old Wounds Reopen—The Walk to the Doctor's—Influence -of Nature,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_116">116</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XV.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">Quietude of the Woods—A Glimpse of the Stranger—Mrs. Mandy's Words of Cruel -Irony—Sad Reflections,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_121">121</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XVI.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">A Reflection—American Abolitionists—Disaffection in Kentucky—The Young Master—His -Remonstrance,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_127">127</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XVII.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">The Return of the Hunters, flushed with Success—Mr. Peterkin's Vagary,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_136">136</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XVIII.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">The Essay of Wit—Young Abolitionist—His Influence—A Night at the Door of the -"Lock-Up,"</td> - <td><a href="#Page_147">147</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XIX.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">Sympathy casteth out Fear—Consequence of the Night's Watch—Troubled Reflections,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_161">161</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XX.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">The Trader—A Terrible Fright—Power of Prayer—Grief of the Helpless,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_170">170</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XXI.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">Touching Farewell full of Pathos—The Parting—My Grief,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_183">183</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XXII.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">A Conversation—Hope Blossoms Out, but Charlestown is full of Excitability,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_191">191</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XXIII.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">The Supper—Its Consequences—Loss of Silver—A Lonely Night—Amy,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_201">201</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XXIV.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">The Punishment—Cruelty—Its Fatal Consequence—Death,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_211">211</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XXV.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">Conversation of the Father and Son—The Discovery; its Consequences—Death of the -Young and Beautiful,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_221">221</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XXVI.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">The Funeral—Miss Bradly's Departure—The Dispute—Spirit Questions,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_232">232</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XXVII.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">The Awful Confession of the Master—Death—its Cold Solemnity,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_243">243</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XXVIII.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">The Bridal—Its Ceremonies—A Trip, and a Change of Homes—The Magnolia—A -Stranger,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_251">251</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XXIX.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">The Argument,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_259">259</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XXX.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">The Misdemeanor—The Punishment—Its Consequence—Fright,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_279">279</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XXXI.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">The Day of Trial—Anxiety—The Volunteer Counsel—Verdict of the Jury,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_293">293</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XXXII.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">Execution of the Sentence—A Change—Hope,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_303">303</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XXXIII.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">Sold—Life as a Slave—Pen—Charles' Story—Uncle Peter's Troubles—A Star Peeping -Forth from the Cloud,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_314">314</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XXXIV.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">Scene in the Pen—Starting "Down the River"—Uncle Peter's Trial—My Rescue,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_333">333</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XXXV.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">The New Home—A Pleasant Family Group—Quiet Love-Meetings,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_342">342</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XXXVI.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">The New Associates—Depraved Views—Elsy's Mistake—Departure of the Young -Ladies—Loneliness,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_348">348</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XXXVII.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">The New Mistress—Her Kindness of Disposition—A Pretty Home—And Love-Interviews -in the Summer Days,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_355">355</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XXXVIII.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">An Awful Revelation—More Clouds to Darken the Sun of Life—Sickness and blessed -Insensibility,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_366">366</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XXXIX.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">Gradual Return of Happy Spirits—Brighter Prospects—An Old Acquaintance,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_374">374</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XL.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">The Crisis of Existence—A Dreadful Page in Life,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_381">381</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XLI.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">A Revelation—Death the Peaceful Angel—Calmness,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_391">391</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="center">CHAPTER XLII.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">Conclusion,</td> - <td><a href="#Page_398">398</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> - -<p class="bold">AUTOBIOGRAPHY</p> - -<p class="bold">OF A</p> - -<p class="bold2">FEMALE SLAVE.</p> - -<hr class="smler" /> - -<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2> - -<p class="center">THE OLD KENTUCKY FARM—MY PARENTAGE AND EARLY TRAINING—DEATH OF -THE MASTER—THE SALE-DAY—NEW MASTER AND NEW HOME.</p> - -<p>I was born in one of the southern counties of Kentucky. My earliest -recollections are of a large, old-fashioned farm-house, built of hewn -rock, in which my old master, Mr. Nelson, and his family, consisting of -a widowed sister, two daughters and two sons, resided. I have but an -indistinct remembrance of my old master. At times, a shadow of an idea, -like the reflection of a kind dream, comes over my mind, and, then, I -conjure him up as a large, venerable-looking man, with scanty, gray -locks floating carelessly over an amplitude of forehead; a wide, -hard-featured face, with yet a kindly glow of honest sentiment; broad, -strong teeth, much discolored by the continued use of tobacco.</p> - -<p>I well remember that, as a token of his good-will, he always presented -us (the slave-children) with a slice of buttered bread, when we had -finished our daily task. I have also a faint <i>reminiscence</i> of his old -hickory cane being shaken over my head two or three times, and the -promise (which remained, until his death, unfulfilled) of a good -"<i>thrashing</i>" at some future period.</p> - -<p>My mother was a very bright mulatto woman, and my father,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> I suppose, -was a white man, though I know nothing of him; for, with the most -unpaternal feeling, he deserted me. A consequence of this amalgamation -was my very fair and beautiful complexion. My skin was no perceptible -shade darker than that of my young mistresses. My eyes were large and -dark, while a profusion of nut-brown hair, straight and soft as the -whitest lady's in the land, fell in showery redundance over my neck and -shoulders. I was often mistaken for a white child; and in my rambles -through the woods, many caresses have I received from wayside -travellers; and the exclamation, "What a beautiful child!" was quite -common. Owing to this personal beauty I was a great pet with my master's -sister, Mrs. Woodbridge, who, I believe I have stated, was a widow, and -childless; so upon me she lavished all the fondness of a warm and loving heart.</p> - -<p>My mother, Keziah the cook, commonly called Aunt Kaisy, was possessed of -an indomitable ambition, and had, by the hardest means, endeavored to -acquire the rudiments of an education; but all that she had succeeded in -obtaining was a knowledge of the alphabet, and orthography in two -syllables. Being very imitative, she eschewed the ordinary negroes' -pronunciation, and adopted the mode of speech used by the higher classes -of whites. She was very much delighted when Mrs. Woodbridge or Miss -Betsy (as we called her) began to instruct me in the elements of the -English language. I inherited my mother's thirst for knowledge; and, by -intense study, did all I could to spare Miss Betsy the usual drudgery of -a teacher. The aptitude that I displayed, may be inferred from the fact -that, in three months from the day she began teaching me the alphabet, I -was reading, with some degree of fluency, in the "First Reader." I have -often heard her relate this as quite a literary and educational marvel.</p> - -<p>There were so many slaves upon the farm, particularly young ones, that I -was regarded as a supernumerary; consequently, spared from nearly all -the work. I sat in Miss Betsy's room, with book in hand, little heeding -anything else; and, if ever I manifested the least indolence, my mother, -with her wild <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>ambition, was sure to rally me, and even offer the -tempting bribe of cakes and apples.</p> - -<p>I have frequently heard my old master say, "Betsy, you will spoil that -girl, teaching her so much." "She is too pretty for a slave," was her -invariable reply.</p> - -<p>Thus smoothly passed the early part of my life, until an event occurred -which was the cause of a change in my whole fate. My old master became -suddenly and dangerously ill. My lessons were suspended, for Miss -Betsy's services were required in the sick chamber. I used to slyly -steal to the open door of his room, and peep in, with wonder, at the -sombre group collected there. I recollect seeing my young masters and -mistresses weeping round a curtained bed. Then there came a time when -loud screams and frightful lamentations issued thence. There were -shrieks that struck upon my ear with a strange thrill; shrieks that -seemed to rend souls and break heart-strings. My young mistresses, fair, -slender girls, fell prostrate upon the floor; and my masters, noble, -manly men, bent over the bowed forms of their sisters, whispering words -which I did not hear, but which, my mature experience tells me, must -have been of love and comfort.</p> - -<p>There came, then, a long, narrow, black box, thickly embossed with -shining brass tacks, in which my old master was carefully laid, with his -pale, brawny hands crossed upon his wide chest. I remember that, one by -one, the slaves were called in to take a last look of him who had been, -to them, a kind master. They all came out with their cotton -handkerchiefs pressed to their eyes. I went in, with five other colored -children, to take my look. That wan, ghastly face, those sunken eyes and -pinched features, with the white winding sheet, and the dismal coffin, -impressed me with a new and wild terror; and, for weeks after, this -"vision of death" haunted my mind fearfully.</p> - -<p>But I soon after resumed my studies under Miss Betsy's tuition. Having -little work to do, and seldom seeing my young mistresses, I grew up in -the same house, scarcely knowing them. I was technically termed in the -family, "the child," as I was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> not black; and, being a slave, my masters -and mistresses would not admit that I was white. So I reached the age of -ten, still called "a child," and actually one in all life's experiences, -though pretty well advanced in education. I had a very good knowledge of -the rudiments, had bestowed some attention upon Grammar, and eagerly -read every book that fell in my way. Love of study taught me seclusive -habits; I read long and late; and the desire of a finished education -became the passion of my life. Alas! these days were but a poor -preparation for the life that was to come after!</p> - -<p>Miss Betsy, though a warm-hearted woman, was a violent advocate of -slavery. I have since been puzzled how to reconcile this with her -otherwise Christian character; and, though she professed to love me -dearly, and had bestowed so much attention upon the cultivation of my -mind, and expressed it as her opinion that I was too pretty and white to -be a slave, yet, if any one had spoken of giving me freedom, she would -have condemned it as domestic heresy. If I had belonged to her, I doubt -not but my life would have been a happy one. But, alas! a different lot -was assigned me!</p> - -<p>About two years and six months after my old master's death, a division -was made of the property. This involved a sale of everything, even the -household furniture. There were, I believe, heavy debts hanging over the -estate. These must be met, and the residue divided among the heirs.</p> - -<p>When it was made known in the kitchen that a sale was to be made, the -slaves were panic-stricken. Loud cries and lamentations arose, and my -young mistresses came often to the kitchen to comfort us.</p> - -<p>One of these young ladies, Miss Margaret, a tall, nobly-formed girl, -with big blue eyes and brown hair, frequently came and sat with us, -trying, in the most persuasive tones, to reconcile the old ones to their -destiny. Often did I see the large tears roll down her fair cheeks, and -her red lip quiver. These indications of sympathy, coming from such a -lovely being, cheered many an hour of after-captivity.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p><p>But the "sale-day" came at last; I have a confused idea of it. The -ladies left the day before. Miss Betsy took an affectionate leave of me; -ah, I did not then know that it was a final one.</p> - -<p>The servants were all sold, as I heard one man say, at very high rates, -though not under the auctioneer's hammer. To that my young masters were -opposed.</p> - -<p>A tall, hard-looking man came up to me, very roughly seized my arm, bade -me open my mouth; examined my teeth; felt of my limbs; made me run a few -yards; ordered me to jump; and, being well satisfied with my activity, -said to Master Edward, "I will take her." Little comprehending the full -meaning of that brief sentence, I rejoined the group of children from -which I had been summoned. After awhile, my mother came up to me, -holding a wallet in her hand. The tear-drops stood on her cheeks, and -her whole frame was distorted with pain. She walked toward me a few -steps, then stopped, and suddenly shaking her head, exclaimed, "No, no, -I can't do it, I can't do it." I was amazed at her grief, but an -indefinable fear kept me from rushing to her.</p> - -<p>"Here, Kitty," she said to an old negro woman, who stood near, "you -break it to her. I can't do it. No, it will drive me mad. Oh, heaven! -that I was ever born to see this day." Then rocking her body back and -forward in a transport of agony, she gave full vent to her feelings in a -long, loud, piteous wail. Oh, God! that cry of grief, that knell of a -breaking heart, rang in my ears for many long and painful days. At -length Aunt Kitty approached me, and, laying her hand on my shoulder, -kindly said:</p> - -<p>"Alas, poor chile, you mus' place your trus' in the good God above, you -mus' look to Him for help; you are gwine to leave your mother now. You -are to have a new home, a new master, and I hope new friends. May the -Lord be with you." So saying, she broke suddenly away from me; but I saw -that her wrinkled face was wet with tears.</p> - -<p>With perhaps an idle, listless air, I received this astounding<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> news; -but a whirlwind was gathering in my breast. What could she mean by new -friends and a new home? Surely I was to take my mother with me! No -mortal power would dare to sever <i>us</i>. Why, I remember that when master -sold the gray mare, the colt went also. Who could, who would, who dared, -separate the parent from her offspring? Alas! I had yet to learn that -the white man dared do all that his avarice might suggest; and there was -no human tribunal where the outcast African could pray for "right!" Ah, -when I now think of my poor mother's form, as it swayed like a willow in -the tempest of grief; when I remember her bitter cries, and see her arms -thrown franticly toward me, and hear her earnest—oh, how -earnest—prayer for death or madness, then I wonder where were Heaven's -thunderbolts; but retributive Justice <i>will</i> come sooner or later, and -He who remembers mercy <i>now</i> will not forget justice <i>then</i>.</p> - -<p>"Come along, gal, come along, gather up your duds, and come with me," -said a harsh voice; and, looking up from my bewildered reverie, I beheld -the man who had so carefully examined me. I was too much startled to -fully understand the words, and stood vacantly gazing at him. This -strange manner he construed into disrespect; and, raising his -riding-whip, he brought it down with considerable force upon my back. It -was the first lash I had ever given to me in anger. I smarted beneath -the stripe, and a cry of pain broke from my lips. Mother sprang to me, -and clasping my quivering form in her arms, cried out to my young -master, "Oh, Master Eddy, have mercy on me, on my child. I have served -you faithfully, I nursed you, I grew up with your poor mother, who now -sleeps in the cold ground. I beg you now to save <i>my child</i>," and she -sank down at his feet, whilst her tears fell fast.</p> - -<p>Then my poor old grandfather, who was called the patriarch slave, being -the eldest one of the race in the whole neighborhood, joined us. His -gray head, wrinkled face, and bent form, told of many a year of hard -servitude.</p> - -<p>"What is it, Massa Ed, what is it Kaisy be takin' on so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> 'bout? you -haint driv the <i>chile</i> off? No—no! young massa only playin' trick now; -come Kais' don't be makin' fool of yoursef, young massa not gwine to -separate you and the chile."</p> - -<p>These words seemed to reanimate my mother, and she looked up at Master -Edward with a grateful expression of face, whilst she clasped her arms -tightly around his knees, exclaiming, "Oh, bless you, young master, -bless you forever, and forgive poor Kaisy for distrusting you, but -Pompey told me the child was sold away from me, and that gemman struck -her;" and here again she sobbed, and caught hold of me convulsively, as -if she feared I might be taken.</p> - -<p>I looked at my young master's face, and the ghastly whiteness which -overspread it, the tearful glister of his eye, and the strange tremor of -his figure, struck me with fright. <i>I knew my doom.</i> Young as I was, my -first dread was for my mother; I forgot my own perilous situation, and -mourned alone for her. I would have given worlds could insensibility -have been granted her.</p> - -<p>"I've got no time to be foolin' longer with these niggers, come 'long, -gal. Ann, I believe, you tole me was her name," he said, as he turned to -Master Edward. Another wild shriek from my mother, a deep sigh from -grandpap, and I looked at master Ed, who was striking his forehead -vehemently, and the tears were trickling down his cheeks.</p> - -<p>"Here, Mr. Peterkin, here!" exclaimed Master Edward, "here is your bill -of sale; I will refund your money; release me from my contract."</p> - -<p>Peterkin cast on him one contemptuous look, and with a low, chuckling -laugh, replied, "No; you must stand to your bargain. I want that gal; -she is likely, and it will do me good to thrash the devil out of her;" -turning to me he added, "quit your snuffling and snubbing, or I'll give -you something to cry 'bout;" and, roughly catching me by the arm, he -hurried me off, despite the entreaty of Master Ed, the cries of mother, -and the feeble supplication of my grandfather. I dared to cast one look -behind, and beheld my mother wallowing in the dust,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> whilst her frantic -cries of "save my child, save my child!" rang with fearful agony in my -ears. Master Ed covered his face with his hands, and old grandfather -reverently raised his to Heaven, as if beseeching mercy. The sight of -this anguish-stricken group filled me with a new sense of horror, and -forgetful of the presence of Peterkin, I burst into tears: but I was -quickly recalled by a fierce and stinging blow from his stout -riding-whip.</p> - -<p>"See here, nigger (this man, raised among negroes, used their dialect), -if you dar' to give another whimper, I'll beat the very life out 'en -yer." This terrific threat seemed to scare away every thought of -precaution; and, by a sudden and agile bound, I broke loose from him and -darted off to the sad group, from which I had been so ruthlessly torn, -and, sinking down before Master Ed, I cried out in a wild, despairing -tone, "Save me, good master, save me—kill me, or hide me from that -awful man, he'll kill me;" and, seizing hold of the skirt of his coat, I -covered my face with it to shut out the sight of Peterkin, whose red -eye-balls were glaring with fury upon me. Oath after oath escaped his -lips. Mother saw him rapidly approaching to recapture me, and, with the -noble, maternal instinct of self-sacrifice, sprang forward only to -receive the heavy blow of his uplifted whip. She reeled, tottered and -sank stunned upon the ground.</p> - -<p>"Thar, take that, you yaller hussy, and cuss yer nigger hide for daring -to raise this rumpus here," he said, as he rapidly strode past her.</p> - -<p>"Gently, Mr. Peterkin," exclaimed Master Edward, "let me speak to her; a -little encouragement is better than force."</p> - -<p>"This is my encouragement for them," and he shook his whip.</p> - -<p>Unheeding him, Master Edward turned to me, saying, "Ann, come now, be a -good girl, go with this gentleman, and be an obedient girl; he will give -you a kind, nice home; sometimes he will let you come to see your -mother. Here is some money for you to buy a pretty head-handkerchief; -now go with him."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> These kind words and encouraging tones, brought a -fresh gush of tears to my eyes. Taking the half-dollar which he offered -me, and reverently kissing the skirt of his coat, I rejoined Peterkin; -one look at his cold, harsh face, chilled my resolution; yet I had -resolved to go without another word of complaint. I could not suppress a -groan when I passed the spot where my mother lay still insensible from -the effects of the blow.</p> - -<p>One by one the servants, old and young, gave me a hearty shake of the -hand as I passed the place where they were standing in a row for the -inspection of buyers.</p> - -<p>I had nerved myself, and now that the parting from mother was over, I -felt that the bitterness of death was past, and I could meet anything. -Nothing now could be a trial, yet I was touched when the servants -offered me little mementoes and keepsakes. One gave a yard of ribbon, -another a half-paper of pins, a third presented a painted cotton -head-tie; others gave me ginger-cakes, candies, or small coins. Out of -their little they gave abundantly, and, small as were the bestowments, I -well knew that they had made sacrifices to give even so much. I was too -deeply affected to make any other acknowledgment than a nod of the head; -for a choking thickness was gathering in my throat, and a blinding mist -obscured my sight. I did not see my young mistresses, for they had left -the house, declaring they could not bear to witness a spectacle so -revolting to their feelings.</p> - -<p>Upon reaching the gate I observed a red-painted wagon, with an awning of -domestic cotton. Standing near it, and holding the horses, was an old, -worn, scarred, weather-beaten negro man, who instantly took off his hat -as Mr. Peterkin approached.</p> - -<p>"Well, Nace, you see I've bought this wench to-day," and he shook his -whip over my head.</p> - -<p>"Ya! ya! Massa, but she ha' got one goot home wid yer."</p> - -<p>"Yes, has she, Nace; but don't yer think the slut has been cryin' 'bout -it!"</p> - -<p>"Lor' bless us, Massa, but a little of the beech-tree will fetch<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> that -sort of truck out of her," and old Nace showed his broken teeth, as he -gave a forced laugh.</p> - -<p>"I guess I can take the fool out en her, by the time I gives her two or -three swings at the whippin'-post."</p> - -<p>Nace shook his head knowingly, and gave a low guttural laugh, by way of -approval of his master's capabilities.</p> - -<p>"Jump in the wagon, gal," said my new master, "jump in quick; I likes to -see niggers active, none of your pokes 'bout me; but this will put -sperit in 'em," and there was another defiant flourish of the whip.</p> - -<p>I got in with as much haste and activity as I could possibly command. -This appeared to please Mr. Peterkin, and he gave evidence of it by -saying,—</p> - -<p>"Well, that does pretty well; a few stripes a day, and you'll be a -valerble slave;" and, getting in the vehicle himself, he ordered Nace to -drive on "<i>pretty peart</i>," as night would soon overtake us.</p> - -<p>Just as we were starting I perceived Josh, one of my playmates, running -after us with a small bundle, shouting,—</p> - -<p>"Here, Ann, you've lef' yer bundle of close."</p> - -<p>"Stop, Nace," said Mr. Peterkin, "let's git the gal's duds, or I'll be -put to the 'spence of gittin' new ones for her."</p> - -<p>Little Josh came bounding up, and, with an affectionate manner, handed -me the little wallet that contained my entire wardrobe. I leaned -forward, and, in a muffled tone, but with my whole heart hanging on my -lip, asked Josh "how is mother?" but a cut of Nace's whip, and a quick -"gee-up," put me beyond the hearing of the reply. I strained my eyes -after Josh, to interpret the motion of his lips.</p> - -<p>In a state of hopeless agony I sat through the remainder of the journey. -The coarse jokes and malignant threats of Mr. Peterkin were answered -with laughing and dutiful assent by the veteran Nace. I tried to deceive -my persecutors by feigning sleep, but, ah, a strong finger held my lids -open, and slumber fled away to gladden lighter hearts and bless brighter eyes.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2> - -<p class="center">A VIEW OF THE NEW HOME.</p> - -<p>The young moon had risen in mild and meek serenity to bless the earth. -With a strange and fluctuating light the pale rays played over the -leaves and branches of the forest trees, and flickered fantastically -upon the ground! Only a few stars were discernible in the highest dome -of heaven! The lowing of wandering cows, or the chirp of a night-bird, -had power to beguile memory back to a thousand vanished joys. I mused -and wept; still the wagon jogged along. Mr. Peterkin sat half-sleeping -beside old Nace, whose occasional "gee-up" to the lagging horses, was -the only human sound that broke the soft serenity! Every moment seemed -to me an age, for I dreaded the awakening of my cruel master. Ah, little -did I dream that that horrid day's experience was but a brief foretaste -of what I had yet to suffer; and well it was for me that a kind and -merciful Providence veiled that dismal future from my gaze. About -midnight I had fallen into a quiet sleep, gilded by the sweetest dream, -a dream of the old farm-house, of mother, grandfather, and my -companions.</p> - -<p>From this vision I was aroused by the gruff voice of Peterkin, bidding -me get out of the wagon. That voice was to me more frightful and fearful -than the blast of the last trump. Springing suddenly up, I threw off the -shackles of sleep; and consciousness, with all its direful burden, -returned fully to me. Looking round, by the full light of the moon, I -beheld a large country house, half hidden among trees. A white paling -enclosed the ground, and the scent of dewy roses and other garden -flowers filled the atmosphere.</p> - -<p>"Now, Nace, put up the team, and git yourself to bed," said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> Peterkin. -Turning to me he added, "give this gal a blanket, and let her sleep on -the floor in Polly's cabin; keep a good watch on her, that she don't try -to run off."</p> - -<p>"Needn't fear dat, Massa, for de bull-dog tear her to pieces if she -'tempt dat. By gar, I'd like to see her be for tryin' it;" and the old -negro gave a fiendish laugh, as though he thought it would be rare -sport.</p> - -<p>Mr. Peterkin entered the handsome house, of which he was the rich and -respected owner, whilst I, conducted by Nace, repaired to a dismal -cabin. After repeated knocks at the door of this most wretched hovel, an -old crone of a negress muttered between her clenched teeth, "Who's dar?"</p> - -<p>"It's me, Polly; what you be 'bout dar, dat you don't let me in?"</p> - -<p>"What for you be bangin' at my cabin? I's got no bisness wid you."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but I's got bisness wid you; stir yer ole stumps now."</p> - -<p>"I shan't be for troublin' mysef and lettin' you in my cabin at dis hour -ob de night-time; and if you doesn't be off, I'll make Massa gib you a -sound drubbin' in de mornin'."</p> - -<p>"Ha, ha! now I'm gots you sure; for massa sends me here himsef."</p> - -<p>This was enough for Polly; she broke off all further colloquy, and -opened the door instantly.</p> - -<p>The pale moonlight rested as lovingly upon that dreary, unchinked, rude, -and wretched hovel, as ever it played over the gilded roof and frescoed -dome of ancient palaces; but ah, what squalor did it not reveal! There, -resting upon pallets of straw, like pigs in a litter, were groups of -children, and upon a rickety cot the old woman reposed her aged limbs. -How strange, lonely, and forbidding appeared that tenement, as the old -woman stood in the doorway, her short and scanty kirtles but poorly -concealing her meagre limbs. A dark, scowling countenance looked out -from under a small cap of faded muslin; little bleared eyes glared upon -me, like the red light of a heated furnace. Instinctively I shrank back -from her, but Nace was tired, and not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> wishing to be longer kept from -his bed, pushed me within the door, saying—</p> - -<p>"Thar, Polly, Massa say dat gal mus' sleep in dar."</p> - -<p>"Come 'long in, gal," said the woman, and closing the door, she pointed -to a patch of straw, "sleep dar."</p> - -<p>The moonbeams stole in through the crevices and cracks of the cabin, and -cast a mystic gleam upon the surrounding objects. Without further word -or comment, Polly betook herself to her cot, and was soon snoring away -as though there were no such thing as care or slavery in the world. But -to me sleep was a stranger. There I lay through the remaining hours of -the night, wearily thinking of mother and home. "Sold," I murmured. -"What is it to be sold? Why was <i>I</i> sold? Why separated from my mother -and friends? Why couldn't mother come with me, or I stay with her? I -never saw Mr. Peterkin before. Who gave him the right to force me from -my good home and kind friends?" These questions would arise in my mind, -and, alas! I had no answers for them. Young and ignorant as I was, I had -yet some glimmering idea of justice. Later in life, these same questions -have often come to me, as sad commentaries upon the righteousness of -human laws; and, when sitting in splendid churches listening to ornate -and <i>worldly</i> harangues from <i>holy men</i>, these same thoughts have -tingled upon my tongue. And I have been surprised to see how strangely -these men mistake the definition of servitude. Why, from the exposition -of the worthy divines, one would suppose that servitude was a fair -synonym for slavery! Admitting that we are the descendants of the -unfortunate Ham, and endure our bondage as the penalty affixed to his -crime, there can be no argument or fact adduced, whereby to justify -slavery as a moral right. Serving and being a slave are very different. -And why may not Ham's descendants claim a reprieve by virtue of the -passion and death of Christ? Are we excluded from the grace of that -atonement? No; there is no argument, no reason, to justify slavery, save -that of human cupidity. But there will come a day, when each and every -one who has violated that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> divine rule, "Do unto others as you would -have them do unto you," will stand with a fearful accountability before -the Supreme Judge. Then will there be loud cries and lamentations, and a -wish for the mountains to hide them from the eye of Judicial Majesty.</p> - -<p>The next morning I rose with the dawn, and sitting upright upon my -pallet, surveyed the room and its tenants. There, in comfortless -confusion, upon heaps of straw, slumbered five children, dirty and -ragged. On the broken cot, with a remnant of a coverlet thrown over her, -lay Aunt Polly. A few broken stools and one pine box, with a shelf -containing a few tins, constituted the entire furniture.</p> - -<p>"And this wretched pen is to be my home; these dirty-looking children my -associates." Oh, how dismal were my thoughts; but little time had I for -reflection. The shrill sound of a hunting-horn was the summons for the -servants to arise, and woe unto him or her who was found missing or -tardy when the muster-roll was called. Aunt Polly and the five children -sprang up, and soon dressed themselves. They then appeared in the yard, -where a stout, athletic man, with full beard and a dull eye, stood with -whip in hand. He called over the names of all, and portioned out their -daily task. With a smile more of terror than pleasure, they severally -received their orders. I stood at the extremity of the range. After -disposing of them in order, the overseer (for such he was) looked at me -fiercely, and said:</p> - -<p>"Come here, gal."</p> - -<p>With a timid step, I obeyed.</p> - -<p>"What are you fit for? Not much of anything, ha?" and catching hold of -my ear he pulled me round in front of him, saying,</p> - -<p>"Well, you are likely-looking; how much work can you do?"</p> - -<p>I stammered out something as to my willingness to do anything that was -required of me. He examined my hands, and concluding from their -dimensions that I was best suited for house-work, he bade me remain in -the kitchen until after<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> breakfast. When I entered the room designated, -par politesse, as the kitchen, I was surprised to find such a desolate -and destitute-looking place. The apartment, which was very small, seemed -to be a sort of Pandora's Box, into which everything of household or -domestic use had been crowded. The walls were hung round with saddles, -bridles, horse-blankets, &c. Upon a swinging shelf in the centre of the -room were ranged all the seeds, nails, ropes, dried elms, and the rest -of the thousand and one little notions of domestic economy. A rude, -wooden shelf contained a dark, dusty row of unclean tins; broken stools -and old kegs were substituted for chairs; upon these were stationed four -or five ebony children; one of them, a girl about nine years old, with a -dingy face, to which soap and water seemed foreign, and with shaggy, -moppy hair, twisted in short, stringy plaits, sat upon a broken keg, -with a squalid baby in her lap, which she jostled upon her knee, whilst -she sang in a sharp key, "hushy-by-baby." Three other wretched children, -in tow-linen dresses, whose brevity of skirts made a sad appeal to the -modesty of spectators, were perched round this girl, whom they called -Amy. They were furiously begging Aunt Polly (the cook) to give them a -piece of hoe-cake.</p> - -<p>"Be off wid you, or I'll tell Massa, or de overseer," answered the -beldame, as their solicitations became more clamorous. This threat had -power to silence the most earnest demands of the stomach, for the fiend -of hunger was far less dreaded than the lash of Mr. Jones, the overseer. -My entrance, and the sight of a strange face, was a diversion for them. -They crowded closer to Amy, and eyed me with a half doubtful, and -altogether ludicrous air.</p> - -<p>"Who's her?" "whar she come from?" "when her gwyn away?" and such like -expressions, escaped them, in stifled tones.</p> - -<p>"Come in, set down," said Aunt Polly to me, and, turning to the group of -children, she levelled a poker at them.</p> - -<p>"Keep still dar, or I'll break your pates wid dis poker."</p> - -<p>Instantly they cowered down beside Amy, still peeping over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> her -shoulder, to get a better view of me. With a very uneasy feeling I -seated myself upon the broken stool, to which Aunt Polly pointed. One of -the boldest of the children came up to me, and, slyly touching my dress, -said, "tag," then darted off to her hiding-place, with quite the air of -a victress. Amy made queer grimaces at me. Every now and then placing -her thumb to her nose, and gyrating her finger towards me, she would -drawl out, "you ka-n-t kum it." All this was perfect jargon to me; for -at home, though we had been but imperfectly protected by clothing from -the vicissitudes of seasons, and though our fare was simple, coarse, and -frugal, had we been kindly treated, and our manners trained into -something like the softness of humanity. There, as regularly as the -Sunday dawned, were we summoned to the house to hear the Bible read, and -join (though at a respectful distance) with the family in prayer. But -this I subsequently learned was an unusual practice in the neighborhood, -and was attributed to the fact, that my master's wife had been born in -the State of Massachusetts, where the people were crazy and fanatical -enough to believe that "niggers" had souls, and were by God held to be -responsible beings.</p> - -<p>The loud blast of the horn was the signal for the "hands" to suspend -their labor and come to breakfast. Two negro men and three women rushed -in at the door, ravenous for their rations. I looked about for the -table, but, seeing none, concluded it had yet to be arranged; for at -home we always took our meals on a table. I was much surprised to see -each one here take a slice of fat bacon and a pone of bread in his or -her hand, and eat it standing.</p> - -<p>"Well," said one man, "I'd like to git a bit more bread."</p> - -<p>"You's had your sher," replied Aunt Polly. "Mister Jones ses one slice -o' meat and a pone o' bread is to be the 'lowance."</p> - -<p>"I knows it, but if thar's any scraps left from the house table, you -wimmin folks always gits it."</p> - -<p>"Who's got de bes' right? Sure, and arn't de one who cooks it got de -bes' right to it?" asked Polly, with a triumphant voice.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p><p>"Ha, ha!" cried Nace, "here comes de breakfust leavin's, now who's -smartest shall have 'em;" whereupon Nace, his comrade, and the three -women, seized a waiter of fragments of biscuit, broiled ham, coffee, -&c., the remains of the breakfast prepared for the white family.</p> - -<p>"By gar," cried Nace, "I've got de coffee-pot, and I'll drink dis;" so, -without further ceremony, he applied the spout to his mouth, and, sans -cream or sugar, he quaffed off the grounds. Jake possessed himself of -the ham, whilst the two women held a considerable contest over a -biscuit. Blow and lie passed frequently between them. Aunt Polly -brandished her skimmer-spoon, as though it were Neptune's trident of -authority; still she could not allay the confusion which these excited -cormorants raised. The children yelled out and clamored for a bit; the -sight and scent of ham and biscuits so tantalized their palates, that -they forgot even the terror of the whip. I stood all agape, looking on -with amazement.</p> - -<p>The two belligerent women stood with eyes blazing like comets, their -arms twisted around each other in a very decided and furious rencontre. -One of them, losing her balance, fell upon the floor, and, dragging the -other after her, they rolled and wallowed in a cloud of dust, whilst the -disputed biscuit, in the heat of the affray, had been dropped on the -hearth, where, unperceived by the combatants, Nace had possessed himself -of it, and was happily masticating it.</p> - -<p>Melinda, the girl from whom the waiter had been snatched, doubtless much -disappointed by the loss of the debris, returned to the house and made a -report of the fracas.</p> - -<p>Instantly and unexpectedly, Jones, flaming with rage, stood in the midst -of the riotous group. Seizing hold of the women, he knocked them on -their heads with his clenched fists.</p> - -<p>"Hold, black wretches, come, I will give you a leetle fun; off now to -the post."</p> - -<p>Then such appeals for mercy, promises of amendment, entreaties, excuses, -&c., as the two women made, would have touched a heart of stone; but -Jones had power to resist even<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> the prayers of an angel. To him the -cries of human suffering and the agony of distress were music. My heart -bled when I saw the two victims led away, and I put my hands to my ears -to shut out the screams of distress which rang with a strange terror on -the morning air. Poor, oppressed African! thorny and rugged is your path -of life! Many a secret sigh and bleeding tear attest your cruel -martyrdom! Surely He, who careth alike for the high and the low, looks -not unmoved upon you, wearing and groaning beneath the pressing burden -and galling yoke of a most inhuman bondage. For you there is no broad -rock of Hope or Peace to cast its shadow of rest in this "weary land." -You must sow in tears and reap in sorrow. But He, who led the children -of Israel from the house of bondage and the fetters of captivity, will, -in His own inscrutable way, lead you from the condition of despair, even -by the pillar of fire and the cloud. Great changes are occurring daily, -old constitutions are tottering, old systems, fraught with the cruelty -of darker ages, are shaking to their centres. Master minds are -everywhere actively engaged. Keen eyes and vigilant hearts are open to -the wrongs of the poor, the lowly and the outcast. An avenging angel -sits concealed 'mid the drapery of the wasting cloud, ready to pour the -vials of God's wrath upon a haughty and oppressive race. In the -threatened famine, see we nothing but an accidental failure of the -crops? In the exhausted coffers and empty public treasury, is there -nothing taught but the lesson of national extravagance? In the virulence -of disease, the increasing prevalence of fatal epidemics, what do we -read? Send for the seers, the wise men of the nation, and bid them -translate the "mysterious writing on the wall." Ah, well may ye shake, -Kings of Mammon, shake upon your tottering throne of human bones! Give -o'er your sports, suspend your orgies, dash down the jewelled cup of -unhallowed joy, sparkling as it is to the very brim. You must pay, like -him of old, the fearful price of sin. God hath not heard, unmoved, the -anguished cries of a down-trodden and enslaved nation! And it needs no -Daniel to tell, that "God hath numbered your Kingdom and it is -finished."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p><p>As may be supposed, I had little appetite for my breakfast, but I -managed to deceive others into the belief that I had made a hearty meal. -But those screams from half-famished wretches had a fatal and terrifying -fascination; never once could I forget it.</p> - -<p>A look of fright was on the face of all. "They be gettin' awful beatin' -at the post," muttered Nace, whilst a sardonic smile flitted over his -hard features. Was it not sad to behold the depths of degradation into -which this creature had fallen? He could smile at the anguish of a -fellow-creature. Originally, his nature may have been kind and gentle; -but a continuous system of brutality had so deadened his sensibilities, -that he had no humanity left. <i>For this</i>, the white man is accountable.</p> - -<p>After the breakfast was over, I received a summons to the house. -Following Melinda, I passed the door-sill, and stood in the presence of -the assembled household. A very strange group I thought them. Two girls -were seated beside the uncleared breakfast table, "trying their fortune" -(as the phrase goes) with a cup of coffee-grounds and a spoon. The elder -of the two was a tall, thin girl, with sharp features, small gray eyes, -and red-hair done up in frizettes; the other was a prim, dark-skinned -girl, with a set of nondescript features, and hair of no particular hue, -or "just any color;" but with the same harsh expression of face that -characterized the elder. As she received the magic cup from her sister, -she exclaimed, "La, Jane, it will only be two years until you are -married," and made a significant grimace at her father (Mr. Peterkin), -who sat near the window, indulging in the luxury of a cob-pipe. The -taller girl turned toward me, and asked,</p> - -<p>"Father, is that the new girl you bought at old Nelson's sale?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, that's the gal. Does she suit you?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, but dear me! how very light she is—almost white! I know she will -be impudent."</p> - -<p>"She has come to the wrong place for the practice of that article," -suggested the other.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p><p>"Yes, gal, you has got to mind them ar' <i>wimmen</i>," said Mr. Peterkin to -me, as he pointed toward his daughters.</p> - -<p>"Father, I do wish you would quit that vulgarism; say <i>girl</i>, not gal, -and <i>ladies</i>, not women."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I was never <i>edicated</i>, like you."</p> - -<p>"<i>Educated</i> is the word."</p> - -<p>"Oh, confound your dictionaries! Ever since that school-marm come out -from Yankee-land, these neighborhood gals talk so big, nobody can -understand 'em."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2> - -<p class="center">THE YANKEE SCHOOL-MISTRESS—HER PHILOSOPHY—THE AMERICAN ABOLITIONISTS.</p> - -<p>The family with whom I now found a home, consisted of Mr. Peterkin and -his two daughters, Jane and Matilda, and a son, John, much younger than -the ladies.</p> - -<p>The death of Mrs. Peterkin had occurred about three years before I went -to live with them. The girls had been very well educated by a Miss -Bradly, from Massachusetts, a spinster of "no particular age." From her, -the Misses Peterkin learned to set a great value upon correct and -elegant language. She was the model and instructress of the country -round; for, under her jurisdiction, nearly all the farmers' daughters -had been initiated into the mysteries of learning. Scattered about, over -the house, I used to frequently find odd leaves of school-books, -elementary portions of natural sciences, old readers, story-books, -novels, &c. These I eagerly devoured; but I had to be very secret about -it, studying by dying embers, reading by moonlight, sun-rise, &c. Had I -been discovered, a severe punishment would have followed. Miss Jane used -to say, "a literary negro was disgusting, not to be tolerated." Though -she quarrelled with the vulgar talk and bad pronunciation of her father, -he was made of too rough material to receive a polish; and, though Miss -Bradly had improved the minds of the girls, her efforts to soften their -hearts had met with no success. They were the same harsh, cold and -selfish girls that she had found them. It was Jane's boast that she had -whipped more negroes than any other girl of her age. Matilda, though -less severe, had still a touch of the tigress.</p> - -<p>This family lived in something like "style." They were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> famed for their -wealth and social position throughout the neighborhood. The house was a -low cottage structure, with large and airy apartments; an arching piazza -ran the whole length of the building, and around its trellised -balustrade the clematis vine twined in rich luxuriance. A primrose-walk -led up to the door, and the yard blossomed like a garden, with the -fairest flowers. It was a very Paradise of homes; pity, ah pity 'twas, -that human fiends marred its beauty. There the sweet flowers bloomed, -the young birds warbled, pure springs gushed forth with limpid -joy—there truly, "All, save the spirit of man, was divine." The -traveller often paused to admire the tasteful arrangements of the -grounds, the neat and artistic plan of the house, and the thorough "air" -of everything around. It seemed to bespeak refined minds, and delicate, -noble natures; but oh, the flowers were no symbols of the graces of -their hearts, for the dwellers of this highly-adorned spot were people -of coarse natures, rough and cruel as barbarians. The nightly stars and -the gentle moon, the deep glory of the noontide, or the blowing of -twilight breezes over this chosen home, had no power to ennoble or -elevate their souls. Acts of diabolical cruelty and wickedness were -there perpetrated without the least pang of remorse or regret. Whilst -the white portion of the family were revelling in luxury, the slaves -were denied the most ordinary necessaries. The cook, who prepared the -nicest dainties, the most tempting viands, had to console herself with a -scanty diet, coarse enough to shock even a beggar. What wonder, then, if -the craving of the stomach should allow her no escape from downright -theft! Who is there that could resist? Where is the honesty that could -not, under such circumstances, find an argument to justify larceny?</p> - -<p>Every evening Miss Bradly came to spend an hour or so with them. The -route from the school to her boarding-house wound by Mr. Peterkin's -residence, and the temptation to talk to the young ladies, who were -emphatically the belles of the neighborhood, was too great for -resistance. This lady was of that class of females which we meet in -every quarter of the globe,—of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> perfectly kind intentions, yet without -the independence necessary for their open and free expression. Bred in -the North, and having from her infancy imbibed the spirit of its free -institutions, in her secret soul she loathed the abomination of slavery, -every pulse of her heart cried out against it, yet with a strange -compliance she lived in its midst, never once offering an objection or -an argument against it. It suited <i>her policy</i> to laugh with the -pro-slavery man at the fanaticism of the Northern Abolitionist. With a -Judas-like hypocrisy, she sold her conscience for silver; and for a mess -of pottage, bartered the noble right of free expression. 'Twas she, base -renegade from a glorious cause, who laughed loudest and repeated -wholesale libels and foul aspersions upon the able defenders of -abolition—noble and generous men, lofty philanthropists, who are -willing, for the sake of principle, to wear upon their brows the mark of -social and political ostracism! But a day is coming, a bright millennial -day, when the names of these inspired prophets shall be inscribed -proudly upon the litany of freedom; when their noble efforts for social -reform shall be told in wondering pride around the winter's fire. Then -shall their fame shine with a glory which no Roman tradition can -eclipse. Freed from calumny, the names of Parker, Seward and Sumner, -will be ranked, as they deserve to be, with Washington, Franklin and -Henry. All glory to the American Abolitionists. Though they must now -possess their souls in patience, and bear the brand of social -opprobrium, yet will posterity accord them the meed of everlasting -honor. They "who sow in dishonor shall be raised in glory." Already the -watchman upon the tower has discerned the signal. A light beameth in the -East, which no man can quench. A fire has broken forth, which needs only -a breath to fan it into a flame. The eternal law of sovereign right will -vindicate itself. In the hour of feasting and revelry the dreadful bolt -of retribution fell upon Gomorrah.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> - -<p class="center">CONVERSATION WITH MISS BRADLY—A LIGHT BREAKS THROUGH THE DARKNESS.</p> - -<p>I had been living with Mr. Peterkin about three years, during which time -I had frequently seen Miss Bradly. One evening when she called (as was -her custom after the adjournment of school), she found, upon inquiry, -that the young ladies had gone out, and would not probably be back for -several hours. She looked a little disconcerted, and seemed doubtful -whether she would go home or remain. I had often observed her -attentively watching me, yet I could not interpret the look; sometimes I -thought it was of deep, earnest pity. Then it appeared only an anxious -curiosity; and as commiseration was a thing which I seldom met with, I -tried to guard my heart against anything like hope or trust; but on this -afternoon I was particularly struck by her strange and irresolute -manner. She turned several times as if to leave, then suddenly stopped, -and, looking very earnestly at me, asked, "Did you say the girls would -not return for several hours?"</p> - -<p>Upon receiving an answer in the affirmative, she hesitated a moment, and -then inquired for Mr. Peterkin. He was also from home, and would -probably be absent for a day or two. "Is there no white person about the -place?" she asked, with some trepidation.</p> - -<p>"No one is here but the slaves," I replied, perhaps in a sorrowful tone, -for the word "slave" always grated upon my ear, yet I frequently used -it, in obedience to a severe and imperative conventionality.</p> - -<p>"Well then, Ann, come and sit down near me; I want to talk with you -awhile."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p><p>This surprised me a great deal. I scarcely knew what to do. The very -idea of sitting down to a conversation with a white lady seemed to me -the wildest improbability. A vacant stare was the only answer I could -make. Certainly, I did not dream of her being in earnest.</p> - -<p>"Come on, Ann," she said, coaxingly; but, seeing that my amazement -increased, she added, in a more persuasive tone, "Don't be afraid, I am -a friend to the colored race."</p> - -<p>This seemed to me the strangest fiction. A white lady, and yet a friend -to the colored race! Oh, impossible! such condescension was unheard of! -What! she a refined woman, with a snowy complexion, to stoop from her -proud elevation to befriend the lowly Ethiopian! Why, she could not, she -dare not! Almost stupefied with amazement, I stood, with my eyes -intently fixed upon her.</p> - -<p>"Come, child," she said, in a kind tone, and placing her hand upon my -shoulder, she endeavored to seat me beside her, "look up,—be not -ashamed, for I am truly your friend. Your down-cast look and melancholy -manner have often struck me with sorrow."</p> - -<p>To this I could make no reply. Utterance was denied me. My tongue clove -to the roof of my mouth; a thick, filmy veil gathered before my sight; -and there I stood like one turned to stone. But upon being frequently -reassured by her gentle manner and kind words, I at length controlled my -emotions, and, seating myself at her feet, awaited her communication.</p> - -<p>"Ann, you are not happy here?"</p> - -<p>I said nothing, but she understood my look.</p> - -<p>"Were you happy at home?"</p> - -<p>"I was;" and the words were scarcely audible.</p> - -<p>"Did they treat you kindly there?"</p> - -<p>"Indeed they did; and there I had a mother, and was not lonely."</p> - -<p>"They did not beat you?"</p> - -<p>"No, no, they did not," and large tears gushed from my burning -eyes;—for I remembered with anguish, how many a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> smarting blow had been -given to me by Mr. Jones, how many a cuff by Mr. Peterkin, and ten -thousand knocks, pinches, and tortures, by the young ladies.</p> - -<p>"Don't weep, child," said Miss Bradly, in a soothing tone, and she laid -her arm caressingly around my neck. This kindness was too much for my -fortitude, and bursting through all restraints I gave vent to my -feelings in a violent shower of tears. She very wisely allowed me some -time for the gratification of this luxury. I at length composed myself, -and begged her pardon for this seeming disrespect.</p> - -<p>"But ah, my dear lady, you have spoken so kindly to me that I forgot -myself."</p> - -<p>"No apology, my child, I tell you again that I am your friend, and with -me you can be perfectly free. Look upon me as a sister; but now that -your excited feelings have become allayed, let me ask you why your -master sold you?"</p> - -<p>I explained to her that it was necessary to the equal division of the -estate that some of the slaves should be sold, and that I was among the -number.</p> - -<p>"A bad institution is this one of slavery. What fearful entailments of -anguish! Manage it as the most humane will, or can, still it has -horrible results. Witness your separation from your mother. Did these -thoughts never occur to you?"</p> - -<p>I looked surprised, but dared not tell her that often had vague doubts -of the justice of slavery crossed my mind. Ah, too much I feared the -lash, and I answered only by a mournful look of assent.</p> - -<p>"Ann, did you never hear of the Abolition Society?"</p> - -<p>I shook my head. She paused, as if doubtful of the propriety of making a -disclosure; but at length the better principle triumphed, and she said, -"There is in the Northern States an organization which devotes its -energies and very life to the cause of the slave. They wish to abolish -the shameful system, and make you and all your persecuted race as free -and happy as the whites."</p> - -<p>"Does there really exist such a society; or is it only a wild<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> fable -that you tell me, for the purpose of allaying my present agony?"</p> - -<p>"No, child; I do not deceive you. This noble and beneficent society -really lives; but it does not, I regret to say, flourish as it should."</p> - -<p>"And why?" I asked, whilst a new wonder was fastening on my mind.</p> - -<p>"Because," she answered, "the larger portion of the whites are mean and -avaricious enough to desire, for the sake of pecuniary aggrandizement, -the enslavement of a race, whom the force of education and hereditary -prejudice have taught them to regard as their own property."</p> - -<p>I did but dimly conceive her meaning. A slow light was breaking through -my cloudy brain, kindling and inflaming hopes that now shine like -beacons over the far waste of memory. Should I, could I, ever be <i>free</i>? -Oh, bright and glorious dream! how it did sparkle in my soul, and cheer -me through the lonely hours of bondage! This hope, this shadow of a -hope, shone like a mirage far away upon the horizon of a clouded future.</p> - -<p>Miss Bradly looked thoughtfully at me, as if watching the effect of her -words; but she could not see that the seed which she had planted, -perhaps carelessly, was destined to fructify and flourish through the -coming seasons. I longed to pour out my heart to her; for she had, by -this ready "sesame," unlocked its deepest chambers. I dared not unfold -even to her the wild dreams and strange hopes which I was indulging.</p> - -<p>I spied Melinda coming up, and signified to Miss Bradly that it would be -unsafe to prolong the conversation, and quickly she departed; not, -however, without reassuring me of the interest which she felt in my -fate.</p> - -<p>"What was Miss Emily Bradly talking wid you 'bout?" demanded Melinda, in -a surly tone.</p> - -<p>"Nothing that concerns you," I answered.</p> - -<p>"Well, but you'll see that it consarns yerself, when I goes and tells -Masser on you."</p> - -<p>"What can you tell him on me?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p><p>"Oh, I knows, I hearn you talking wid dat ar' woman;" and she gave a -significant leer of her eye, and lolled her tongue out of her mouth, à -la mad dog.</p> - -<p>I was much disturbed lest she had heard the conversation, and should -make a report of it, which would redound to the disadvantage of my new -friend. I went about my usual duties with a slow and heavy heart; still, -sometimes, like a star shining through clouds, was that little bright -hope of liberty.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2> - -<p class="center">A FASHIONABLE TEA-TABLE—TABLE-TALK—AUNT POLLY'S EXPERIENCE—THE -OVERSEER'S AUTHORITY—THE WHIPPING-POST—TRANSFIGURING POWER OF DIVINE FAITH.</p> - -<p>That evening when the family returned, I was glad to find the young -ladies in such an excellent humor. It was seldom Miss Jane, whose -peculiar property I was, ever gave me a kind word; and I was surprised -on this occasion to hear her say, in a somewhat gentle tone:</p> - -<p>"Well, Ann, come here, I want you to look very nice to-night, and wait -on the table in style, for I am expecting company;" and, with a sort of -half good-natured smile, she tossed an old faded neck-ribbon to me, -saying,</p> - -<p>"There is a present for you." I bowed low, and made a respectful -acknowledgment of thanks, which she received in an unusually complacent -manner.</p> - -<p>Immediately I began to make arrangements for supper, and to get myself -in readiness, which was no small matter, as my scanty wardrobe furnished -no scope for the exercise of taste. In looking over my trunk, I found a -white cotton apron, which could boast of many mice-bites and -moth-workings; but with a needle and thread I soon managed to make it -appear decent, and, combing my hair as neatly as possible, and tying the -ribbon which Miss Jane had given me around it, I gave the finishing -touch to my toilette, and then set about arranging the table. I assorted -the tea-board, spoons, cups, saucers, &c., placed a nice damask napkin -at each seat, and turned down the round little plates of white French -china. The silver forks and ivory-handled knives were laid round the -table in precise order. This done, I surveyed my work with an air of -pride. Smiling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> complacently to myself, I proceeded to Miss Jane's room, -to request her to come and look at it, and express her opinion.</p> - -<p>On reaching her apartment, I found her dressed with great care, in a -pink silk, with a rich lace berthé, and pearl ornaments. Her red hair -was oiled until its fiery hue had darkened into a becoming auburn, and -the metallic polish of the French powder had effectually concealed the -huge freckles which spotted her cheeks.</p> - -<p>Dropping a low courtesy, I requested her to come with me to the -dining-room and inspect my work. With a smile, she followed, and upon -examination, seemed well pleased.</p> - -<p>"Now, Ann, if you do well in officiating, it will be well for you; but -if you fail, if you make one mistake, you had better never been born, -for," and she grasped me strongly by the shoulder, "I will flay you -alive; you shall ache and smart in every limb and nerve."</p> - -<p>Terror-stricken at this threat, I made the most earnest promises to -exert my very best energies. Yet her angry manner and threatening words -so unnerved me, that I was not able to go on with the work in the same -spirit in which I had begun, for we all know what a paralysis fear is to -exertion.</p> - -<p>I stepped out on the balcony for some purpose, and there, standing at -the end of the gallery, but partially concealed by the clematis -blossoms, stood Miss Jane, and a tall gentleman was leaning over the -railing talking very earnestly to her. In that uncertain light I could -see the flash of her eye and the crimson glow of her cheek. She was -twirling and tearing to pieces, petal by petal, a beautiful rose which -she held in her hand. Here, I thought here is happiness; this woman -loves and is beloved. She has tasted of that one drop which sweetens the -whole cup of existence. Oh, what a thing it is to be <i>free</i>—free and -independent, with power and privilege to go whithersoever you choose, -with no cowardly fear, no dread of espionage, with the right to hold -your head proudly aloft, and return glance for glance, not shrink and -cower before the white man's look, as we poor slaves <i>must</i> do. But not -many moments could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> I thus spend in thought, and well, perhaps, it was -for me that duty broke short all such unavailing regrets.</p> - -<p>Hastening back to the dining-room, I gave another inquiring look at the -table, fearful that some article had been omitted. Satisfying myself on -this point, I moved on to the kitchen, where Aunt Polly was busy frying -a chicken.</p> - -<p>"Here, child," she exclaimed, "look in thar at them biscuits. See is -they done. Oh, that's prime, browning beautiful-like," she said, as I -drew from the stove a pan of nice biscuits, "and this ar' chicken is -mighty nice. Oh, but it will make the young gemman smack his lips," and -wiping the perspiration from her sooty brow, she drew a long breath, and -seated herself upon a broken stool.</p> - -<p>"Wal, this ar' nigger is tired. I's bin cooking now this twelve years, -and never has I had 'mission' to let my old man come to see me, or I to -go see him."</p> - -<p>The children, with eyes wide open, gathered round Aunt Polly to hear a -recital of her wrongs. "Laws-a-marcy, sights I's seen in my times, and -often it 'pears like I's lost my senses. I tells you, yous only got to -look at this ar' back to know what I's went through." Hereupon she -exposed her back and arms, which were frightfully scarred.</p> - -<p>"This ar' scar," and she pointed to a very deep one on her left -shoulder, "Masser gib me kase I cried when he sold my oldest son; poor -Jim, he was sent down the river, and I've never hearn from him since." -She wiped a stray tear from her old eyes.</p> - -<p>"Oh me! 'tis long time since my eyes hab watered, and now these tears do -feel so quare. Poor Jim is down the river, Johnny is dead, and Lucy is -sold somewhar, so I have neither chick nor child. What's I got to live -fur?"</p> - -<p>This brought fresh to my mind recollections of my own mother's grief, -when she was forced to give me up, and I could not restrain my tears.</p> - -<p>"What fur you crying, child?" she asked. "It puts me in mind ov my poor -little Luce, she used to cry this way whenever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> anything happened to me. -Oh, many is the time she screamed if master struck me."</p> - -<p>"Poor Aunt Polly," I said, as I walked up to her side, "I do pity you. I -will be kind to you; I'll be your daughter."</p> - -<p>She looked up with a wild stare, and with a deep earnestness seized hold -of my out-stretched hand; then dropping it suddenly, she murmured,</p> - -<p>"No, no, you ain't my darter, you comes to me with saft words, but you -is jest like Lindy and all the rest of 'em; you'll go to the house and -tell tales to the white folks on me. No, I'll not trust any of you."</p> - -<p>Springing suddenly into the room, with his eyes flaming, came Jones, -and, cracking his whip right and left, he struck each of the listening -group. I retreated hastily to an extreme corner of the kitchen, where, -unobserved by him, I could watch the affray.</p> - -<p>"You devilish old wretch, Polly, what are you gabbling and snubbling -here about? Up with your old hide, and git yer supper ready. Don't you -know thar is company in the house?" and here he gave another sharp cut -of the whip, which descended upon that poor old scarred back with a -cruel force, and tore open old cicatriced wounds. The victim did not -scream, nor shrink, nor murmur; but her features resumed their wonted -hard, encrusted expression, and, rising up from her seat, she went on -with her usual work.</p> - -<p>"Now, cut like the wind," he added, as he flourished his whip in the -direction of the young blacks, who had been the interested auditors of -Aunt Polly's hair-breadth escapes, and quick as lightning they were off -to their respective quarters, whilst I proceeded to assist Aunt Polly in -dishing up the supper.</p> - -<p>"This chicken," said I, in a tone of encouragement, "is beautifully -cooked. How brown it is, and oh, what a delightful savory odor."</p> - -<p>"I'll be bound the white folks will find fault wid it. Nobody ever did -please Miss Jane. Her is got some of the most perkuler notions 'bout -cookin'. I knows she'll be kommin' out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> here, makin' a fuss 'long wid me -'bout dis same supper," and the old woman shook her head knowingly.</p> - -<p>I made no reply, for I feared the re-appearance of Mr. Jones, and too -often and too painfully had I felt the sting of his lash, to be guilty -of any wanton provocation of its severity.</p> - -<p>Silently, but with bitter thoughts curdling my life-blood, did I arrange -the steaming cookies upon the luxurious board, and then, with a -deferential air, sought the parlor, and bade them walk out to tea.</p> - -<p>I found Miss Jane seated near a fine rosewood piano, and standing beside -her was a gentleman, the same whom I had observed with her upon the -verandah. Miss Matilda was at the window, looking out upon the western -heaven. I spoke in a soft tone, asking them, "Please walk out to tea." -The young gentleman rose, and offered his arm to Miss Jane, which was -graciously accepted, and Miss Matilda followed. I swung the dining-room -door open with great pomp and ceremony, for I knew that anything showy -or grand, either in the furniture of a house or the deportment of a -servant, would be acceptable to Miss Jane. Fashion, or style, was the -god of her worship, and she often declared that her principal objection -to the negro, was his great want of style in thought and action. She was -not deep enough to see, that, fathoms down below the surface, in all the -crudity of ignorance, lay a stratum of this same style, so much -worshipped by herself. Does not the African, in his love of gaud, show, -and tinsel, his odd and grotesque decorations of his person, exhibit a -love of style? But she was not philosopher enough to see that this was a -symptom of the same taste, though ungarnished and semi-barbarous.</p> - -<p>The supper passed off very handsomely, so far as my part was concerned. -I carried the cups round on a silver salver to each one; served them -with chicken, plied them with cakes, confections, &c., and interspersed -my performance with innumerable courtesies, bows and scrapes.</p> - -<p>"Ah," said Miss Jane to the gentleman, "ah, Mr. Somerville, you have -visited us at the wrong season; you should be here<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> later in the autumn, -or earlier in the summer," and she gave one of her most benign smiles.</p> - -<p>"Any season is pleasant here," replied Mr. Somerville, as he held the -wing of a chicken between his thumb and fore-finger. Miss Jane simpered -and looked down; and Miss Matilda arched her brows and gave a -significant side-long glance toward her sister.</p> - -<p>"Here, you cussed yallow gal," cried Mr. Peterkin, in a rage, "take this -split spoon away and fetch me a fork what I ken use. These darned things -is only made for grand folks," and he held the silver fork to me. -Instantly I replaced it with a steel one.</p> - -<p>"Now this looks something like. We only uses them ar' other ones when we -has company, so I suppose, Mr. Somerville, the girl sot the table in -this grand way bekase you is here."</p> - -<p>No thunder-cloud was ever darker than Miss Jane's brow. It gathered, and -deepened, and darkened like a thick-coming tempest, whilst lightnings -blazed from her eye.</p> - -<p>"Father," and she spoke through her clenched teeth, "what makes you -affect this horrid vulgarity? and how can you be so very -<i>idiosyncratic</i>" (this was a favorite word with her) "as to say you -never use them? Ever since I can remember, silver forks have been used -in our family; but," and she smiled as she said it, "Mr. Somerville, -father thinks it is truly a Kentucky fashion, and in keeping with the -spirit of the early settlers, to rail out against fashion and style."</p> - -<p>To this explanation Mr. Somerville bowed blandly. "Ah, yes, I do admire -your father's honest independence."</p> - -<p>"I'll jist tell you how it is, young man, my gals has bin better -edicated than their pappy, and they pertends to be mighty 'shamed of me, -bekase I has got no larnin'; but I wants to ax 'em one question, whar -did the money kum from that give 'em thar larning?" and with a -triumphant force he brought his hard fist down on the table, knocking -off with his elbow a fine cut-glass tumbler, which was shivered to -atoms.</p> - -<p>"Thar now," he exclaimed, "another piece of yer cussed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> frippery is -breaked to bits. What did you put it here fur? I wants that big tin-cup -that I drinks out of when nobody's here."</p> - -<p>"Father, father," said Miss Matilda, who until now had kept an austere -silence, "why will you persist in this outrageous talk? Why will you -mortify and torture us in this cruel way?" and she burst into a flood of -angry tears.</p> - -<p>"Oh, don't blubber about it, Tildy, I didn't mean to hurt your -feelin's."</p> - -<p>Pretty soon after this, the peace of the table being broken up, the -ladies and Mr. Somerville adjourned to the parlor, whilst Melinda, or -Lindy, as she was called, and I set about clearing off the table, -washing up the dishes, and gathering and counting over the forks and -spoons.</p> - -<p>Now, though the young ladies made great pretensions to elegance and -splendor of living, yet were they vastly economical when there was no -company present. The silver was all carefully laid away, and locked up -in the lower drawer of an old-fashioned bureau, and the family -appropriated a commoner article to their every-day use; but let a -solitary guest appear, and forthwith the napkins and silver would be -displayed, and treated by the ladies as though it was quite a usual -thing.</p> - -<p>"Now, Ann," said 'Lindy, "you wash the dishes, and I'll count the spoons -and forks."</p> - -<p>To this I readily assented, for I was anxious to get clear of such a -responsible office as counting and assorting the silver ware.</p> - -<p>Mr. Peterkin, or master, as we called him, sat near by, smoking his -cob-pipe in none the best humor; for the recent encounter at the -supper-table was by no means calculated to improve his temper.</p> - -<p>"See here, gals," he cried in a tone of thunder, "if thar be one silver -spoon or fork missin', yer hides shall pay for the loss."</p> - -<p>"Laws, master, I'll be 'tickler enough," replied Lindy, as she smiled, -more in terror than pleasure.</p> - -<p>"Wal," he said, half aloud, "whar is the use of my darters<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> takin' on in -the way they does? Jist look at the sight o' money that has bin laid out -in that ar' tom-foolery."</p> - -<p>This was a sort of soliloquy spoken in a tone audible enough to be -distinct to us.</p> - -<p>He drew his cob-pipe from his mouth, and a huge volume of smoke curled -round his head, and filled the room with the aroma of tobacco.</p> - -<p>"Now," he continued, "they does not treat me wid any perliteness. They -thinks they knows a power more than I does; but if they don't cut their -cards square, I'll cut them short of a nigger or two, and make John all -the richer by it."</p> - -<p>Lindy cut her eye knowingly at this, and gave me rather a strong nudge -with her elbow.</p> - -<p>"Keep still thar, gals, and don't rattle them cups and sassers so -powerful hard."</p> - -<p>By this time Lindy had finished the assortment of the silver, and had -carefully stowed it away in a willow-basket, ready to be delivered to -Miss Jane, and thence consigned to the drawer, where it would remain in -<i>statu quo</i> until the timely advent of another guest.</p> - -<p>"Now," she said, "I am ready to wipe the dishes, while you wash."</p> - -<p>Thereupon I handed her a saucer, which, in her carelessness, she let -slip from her hand, and it fell upon the floor, and there, with great -consternation, I beheld it lying, shattered to fragments. Mr. Peterkin -sprang to his feet, glad of an excuse to vent his temper upon some one.</p> - -<p>"Which of you cussed wretches did this?"</p> - -<p>"'Twas Ann, master! She let it fall afore I got my hand on it."</p> - -<p>Ere I had time to vindicate myself from the charge, his iron arm felled -me to the floor, and his hoof-like foot was placed upon my shrinking -chest.</p> - -<p>"You d—n yallow hussy, does you think I buys such expensive chany-ware -for you to break up in this ar' way? No, you 'bominable wench, I'll have -revenge out of your saffer'n hide. Here, Lindy, fetch me that cowhide."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p><p>"Mercy, master, mercy," I cried, when he had removed his foot from my -breast, and my breath seemed to come again. "Oh, listen to me; it was -not I who broke the saucer, it was only an accident; but oh, in God's -name, have mercy on me and Lindy."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I'll tache you what marcy is. Here, quick, some of you darkies, -bring me a rope and light. I'm goin' to take this gal to the -whippin'-post."</p> - -<p>This overcame me, for, though I had often been cruelly beaten, yet had I -escaped the odium of the "post;" and now for what I had not done, and -for a thing which, at the worst, was but an accident, to bear the -disgrace and the pain of a public whipping, seemed to me beyond -endurance. I fell on my knees before him:</p> - -<p>"Oh, master, please pardon me; spare me this time. I have got a -half-dollar that Master Edward gave me when you bought me, I will give -you that to pay for the saucer, but please do not beat me."</p> - -<p>With a wild, fiendish grin, he caught me by the hair and swung me round -until I half-fainted with pain.</p> - -<p>"No, you wretch, I'll git my satisfaction out of yer body yit, and I'll -be bound, afore this night's work is done, yer yallow hide will be well -marked."</p> - -<p>A deadly, cold sensation crept over me, and a feeling as of crawling -adders seemed possessing my nerves. With all my soul pleading in my eyes -I looked at Mr. Peterkin; but one glance of his fiendish face made my -soul quail with even a newer horror. I turned my gaze from him to Jones, -but the red glare of a demon lighted up his frantic eye, and the words -of a profane bravo were on his lips. From him I turned to poor, -hardened, obdurate old Nace, but he seemed to be linked and leagued with -my torturers.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Lindy," I cried, as she came up with a bunch of cord in her hand, -"be kind, tell the truth, maybe master will forgive you. You are an -older servant, better known and valued in the family. Oh, let your heart -triumph. Speak the truth, and free me from the torture that awaits me. -Oh, think of me, away off<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> here, separated from my mother, with no -friend. Oh, pity me, and do acknowledge that you broke it."</p> - -<p>"Well, you is crazy, you knows dat I never touched de sacer," and she -laughed heartily.</p> - -<p>"Come along wid you all. Now fur fun," cried Nace.</p> - -<p>"Hold your old jaw," said Jones, and he raised his whip. Nace cowered -like a criminal, and made some polite speech to "Massa Jones," and Mr. -Peterkin possessed himself of the rope which Lindy had brought.</p> - -<p>"Now hold yer hands here," he said to me.</p> - -<p>For one moment I hesitated. I could not summon courage to offer my -hands. It was the only resistance that I had ever dared to make. A -severe blow from the overseer's riding-whip reminded me that I was still -a slave, and dared have no will save that of my master. This blow, which -struck the back of my head, laid me half-lifeless upon the floor. Whilst -in this condition old Nace, at the command of his master, bound the rope -tightly around my crossed arms and dragged me to the place of torment.</p> - -<p>The motion or exertion of being pulled along over the ground, restored -me to full consciousness. With a haggard eye I looked up to the still -blue heaven, where the holy stars yet held their silent vigil; and the -serene moon moved on in her starry track, never once heeding the dire -cruelty, over which her pale beam shed its friendly light. "Oh," thought -I, "is there no mercy throned on high? Are there no spirits in earth, -air, or sky, to lend me their gracious influence? Does God look down -with kindness upon injustice like this? Or, does He, too, curse me in my -sorrow, and in His wrath turn away His glorious face from my -supplication, and say 'a servant of servants shalt thou be?'" These -wild, rebellious thoughts only crossed my mind; they did not linger -there. No, like the breath-stain upon the polished surface of the -mirror, they only soiled for a moment the shining faith which in my soul -reflected the perfect goodness of that God who never forgets the -humblest of His children, and who makes no distinction of color or of -race. The consoling promise, "He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> chasteneth whom He loveth," flashed -through my brain with its blessed assurance, and reconciled me to a -heroic endurance. Far away I strained my gaze to the starry heaven, and -I could almost fancy the sky breaking asunder and disclosing the -wondrous splendors which were beheld by the rapt Apostle on the isle of -Patmos! Oh, transfiguring power of faith! Thou hast a wand more potent -than that of fancy, and a vision brighter than the dreams of -enchantment! What was it that reconciled me to the horrible tortures -which were awaiting me? Surely, 'twas faith alone that sustained me. The -present scene faded away from my vision, and, in fancy, I stood in the -lonely garden of Gethsemane. I saw the darkness and gloom that -overshadowed the earth, when, deserted by His disciples, our blessed -Lord prayed alone. I heard the sighs and groans that burst from his -tortured breast. I saw the bloody sweat, as prostrate on the earth he -lay in the tribulation of mortal agony. I saw the inhuman captors, -headed by one of His chosen twelve, come to seize his sacred person. I -saw his face uplifted to the mournful heavens, as He prayed to His -Father to remove the cup of sorrow. I saw Him bound and led away to -death, without a friend to solace Him. Through the various stages of His -awful passion, even to the Mount of Crucifixion, to the bloody and -sacred Calvary, I followed my Master. I saw Him nailed to the cross, -spit upon, vilified and abused, with the thorny crown pressed upon His -brow. I heard the rabble shout; then I saw the solemn mystery of Nature, -that did attestation to the awful fact that a fiendish work had been -done and the prophecy fulfilled. The vail of the great temple was rent, -the sun overcast, and the moon turned to blood; and in my ecstasy of -passion, I could have shouted, Great is Jesus of Nazareth!! Then I -beheld Him triumphing over the powers of darkness and death, when, robed -in the white garments of the grave, He broke through the rocky -sepulchre, and stood before the affrighted guards. His work was done, -the propitiation had been made, and He went to His Father. This same -Jesus, whom the civilized world now worship as their Lord, was once -lowly, outcast,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> and despised; born of the most hated people of the -world, belonging to a race despised alike by Jew and Gentile; laid in -the manger of a stable at Bethlehem, with no earthly possessions, having -not whereon to lay His weary head; buffetted, spit upon; condemned by -the high priests and the doctors of law; branded as an impostor, and put -to an ignominious death, with every demonstration of public contempt; -crucified between two thieves; this Jesus is worshipped now by those who -wear purple and fine linen. The class which once scorned Him, now offer -at His shrine frankincense and myrrh; but, in their adoration of the -despised Nazarene, they never remember that He has declared, not once, -but many times, that the poor and the lowly are His people. "Forasmuch -as you did it unto one of these you did it unto me." Then let the -African trust and hope on—let him still weep and pray in Gethsemane, -for a cloud hangs round about him, and when he prays for the removal of -this cup of bondage, let him remember to ask, as his blessed Master did, -"Thy will, oh Father, and not our own, be done;" still trust in Him who -calmed the raging tempest: trust in Jesus of Nazareth! Look beyond the -cross, to Christ.</p> - -<p>These thoughts had power to cheer; and, fortified by faith and religion, -the trial seemed to me easy to bear. One prayer I murmured, and my soul -said to my body, "pass under the rod;" and the cup which my Father has -given me to drink must be drained, even to the dregs.</p> - -<p>In this state of mind, with a moveless eye I looked upon the -whipping-post, which loomed up before me like an ogre.</p> - -<p>This was a quadri-lateral post, about eight feet in height, having iron -clasps on two opposing sides, in which the wrists and ankles were -tightly secured.</p> - -<p>"Now, Lindy," cried Jones, "jerk off that gal's rigging, I am anxious to -put some marks on her yellow skin."</p> - -<p>I knew that resistance was vain; so I submitted to have my clothes torn -from my body; for modesty, so much commended in a white woman, is in a -negro pronounced affectation.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p><p>Jones drew down a huge cow-hide, which he dipped in a barrel of brine -that stood near the post.</p> - -<p>"I guess this will sting," he said, as he flourished the whip toward me.</p> - -<p>"Leave that thin slip on me, Lindy," I ventured to ask; for I dreaded -the exposure of my person even more than the whipping.</p> - -<p>"None of your cussed impedence; strip off naked. What is a nigger's hide -more than a hog's?" cried Jones. Lindy and Nace tore the last article of -clothing from my back. I felt my soul shiver and shudder at this; but -what could I do? I <i>could pray</i>—thank God, I could pray!</p> - -<p>I then submitted to have Nace clasp the iron cuffs around my hands and -ankles, and there I stood, a revolting spectacle. With what misery I -listened to obscene and ribald jests from my master and his overseer!</p> - -<p>"Now, Jones," said Mr. Peterkin, "I want to give that gal the first -lick, which will lay the flesh open to the bone."</p> - -<p>"Well, Mr. Peterkin, here is the whip; now you can lay on."</p> - -<p>"No, confound your whip; I wants that cow-hide, and here, let me dip it -well into the brine. I want to give her a real good warmin'; one that -she'll 'member for a long time."</p> - -<p>During this time I had remained motionless. My heart was lifted to God -in silent prayer. Oh, shall I, can I, ever forget that scene? There, in -the saintly stillness of the summer night, where the deep, o'ershadowing -heavens preached a sermon of peace, there I was loaded with contumely, -bound hand and foot in irons, with jeering faces around, vulgar eyes -glaring on my uncovered body, and two inhuman men about to lash me to -the bone.</p> - -<p>The first lick from Mr. Peterkin laid my back open. I writhed, I -wrestled; but blow after blow descended, each harder than the preceding -one. I shrieked, I screamed, I pleaded, I prayed, but there was no mercy -shown me. Mr. Peterkin having fully gratified and quenched his spleen, -turned to Mr. Jones, and said, "Now is yer turn; you can beat her as -much as you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> please, only jist leave a bit o' life in her, is all I -cares for."</p> - -<p>"Yes; I'll not spile her for the market; but I does want to take a -little of the d——d pride out of her."</p> - -<p>"Now, boys"—for by this time all the slaves on the place, save Aunt -Polly, had assembled round the post—"you will see what a true stroke I -ken make; but darn my buttons if I doesn't think Mr. Peterkin has drawn -all the blood."</p> - -<p>So saying, Jones drew back the cow-hide at arm's length, and, making a -few evolutions with his body, took what he called "sure aim." I closed -my eyes in terror. More from the terrible pain, than from the frantic -shoutings of the crowd, I knew that Mr. Jones had given a lick that he -called "true blue." The exultation of the negroes in Master Jones' -triumph was scarcely audible to my ears; for a cold, clammy sensation -was stealing over my frame; my breath was growing feebler and feebler, -and a soft melody, as of lulling summer fountains, was gently sounding -in my ears; and, as if gliding away on a moonbeam, I passed from all -consciousness of pain. A sweet oblivion, like that sleep which announces -to the wearied, fever-sick patient, that his hour of rest has come, fell -upon me! It was not a dreamful sensibility, filled with the chaos of -fragmentary visions, but a rest where the mind, nay, the very soul, -seemed to sleep with the body.</p> - -<p>How long this stupor lasted I am unable to say; but when I awoke, I was -lying on a rough bed, a face dark, haggard, scarred and worn, was -bending over me. Disfigured as was that visage, it was pleasant to me, -for it was human. I opened my eyes, then closed them languidly, -re-opened them, then closed them again.</p> - -<p>"Now, chile, I thinks you is a leetle better," said the dark-faced -woman, whom I recognized as Aunt Polly; but I was too weak, too -wandering in mind, to talk, and I closed my eyes and slept again.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2> - -<p class="center">RESTORED CONSCIOUSNESS—AUNT POLLY'S ACCOUNT OF MY MIRACULOUS RETURN TO -LIFE—THE MASTER'S AFFRAY WITH THE OVERSEER.</p> - -<p>When I awoke (for I was afterwards told by my good nurse that I had -slept four days), I was lying on the same rude bed; but a cool, clear -sensation overspread my system. I had full and active possession of my -mental faculties. I rose and sat upright in the bed, and looked around -me. It was the deep hour of night. A little iron lamp was upon the -hearth, and, for want of a supply of oil, the wick was burning low, -flinging a red glare through the dismal room. Upon a broken stool sat -Aunt Polly, her head resting upon her breast, in what nurses call a -"stolen nap." Amy and three other children were sleeping in a bed -opposite me.</p> - -<p>In a few moments I was able to recall the whole of the scenes through -which I had passed, while consciousness remained; and I raised my eyes -to God in gratitude for my partial deliverance from pain and suffering. -Very softly I stole from my bed, and, wrapping an old coverlet round my -shoulders, opened the door, and looked out upon the clear, star-light -night. Of the vague thoughts that passed through my mind I will not now -speak, though they were far from pleasant or consolatory.</p> - -<p>The fresh night air, which began to have a touch of the frost of the -advancing autumn, blew cheerily in the room, and it fell with an -awakening power upon the brow of Aunt Polly.</p> - -<p>"Law, chile, is dat you stannin' in de dor? What for you git up out en -yer warm bed, and go stand in the night-ar?"</p> - -<p>"Because I feel so well, and this pleasant air seems to brace my frame, -and encourage my mind."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p><p>"But sure you had better take to your bed again; you hab had a mighty -bad time ob it."</p> - -<p>"How long have I been sick? It all seems to me like a horrible dream, -from which I have been suddenly and pleasantly aroused."</p> - -<p>As I said this, Aunt Polly drew me from the door, and closing it, she -bade me go to bed.</p> - -<p>"No, indeed, I cannot sleep. I feel wide awake, and if I only had some -one to talk to me, I could sit up all night."</p> - -<p>"Well, bress your heart, I'll talk wid you smack, till de rise ob day," -she said, in such a kind, good-natured tone, that I was surprised, for I -had regarded her only as an ill-natured, miserable beldame.</p> - -<p>Seating myself on a ricketty stool beside her, I prepared for a long -conversation.</p> - -<p>"Tell me what has happened since I have been sick?" I said. "Where are -Miss Jane and Matilda? and where is the young gentleman who supped with -them on that awful night?"</p> - -<p>"Bress you, honey, but 'twas an awful night. Dis ole nigger will neber -forget it long as she libs;" and she bent her head upon her poor old -worn hands, and by the pale, blue flicker of the lamp, I could discern -the rapidly-falling tears.</p> - -<p>"What," thought I, "and this hardened, wretched old woman can weep for -me! Her heart is not all ossified if she can forget her own bitter -troubles, and weep for mine."</p> - -<p>This knowledge was painful, and yet joyful to me. Who of us can refuse -sympathy? Who does not want it, no matter at what costly price? Does it -not seem like dividing the burden, when we know that there is another -who will weep for us? I threw my arms round Aunt Polly. I tightly -strained that decayed and revolting form to my breast, and I inly prayed -that some young heart might thus rapturously go forth, in blessings to -my mother. This evidence of affection did not surprise Aunt Polly, nor -did she return my embrace; but a deep, hollow sigh, burst from her full -heart, and I knew that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> memory was far away—that, in fancy, she was -with her children, her loved and lost.</p> - -<p>"Come, now," said I, soothingly, "tell me all about it. How did I -suffer? What was done for me? Where is master?" and I shuddered, as I -mentioned the name of my horrible persecutor.</p> - -<p>"Oh, chile, when Masser Jones was done a-beatin' ob yer, dey all ob 'em -tought you was dead; den Masser got orful skeard. He cussed and swore, -and shook his fist in de oberseer's face, and sed he had kilt you, and -dat he was gwine to law wid him 'bout de 'struction ob his property. Den -Masser Jones he swar a mighty heap, and tell Masser he dar' him to go to -law 'bout it. Den Miss Jane and Tilda kum out, and commenced cryin', and -fell to 'busin' Masser Jones, kase Miss Jane say she want to go to de -big town, and take you long wid her fur lady's maid. Den Mr. Jones fell -to busen ob her, and den Masser and him clinched, and fought, and fought -like two big black dogs. Den Masser Jones sticked his great big knife in -Masser's side, and Masser fell down, and den we all tought he was clar -gone. Den away Maser Jones did run, and nobody dared take arter him, for -he had a loaded pistol and a big knife. Den we all on us, de men and -wimmin folks both, grabbed up Masser, and lifted him in de house, and -put him on de bed. Den Jake, he started off fur de doctor, while Miss -Jane and Tilda 'gan to fix Masser's cut side. Law, bress your heart, but -thar he laid wid his big form stretched out just as helpless as a baby. -His face was as white as a ghost, and his eyes shot right tight up. Law -bress you, but I tought his time hab kum den. Well, Lindy and de oder -wimmin was a helpin' ob Miss Jane and Tildy, so I jist tought I would go -and look arter yer body. Thar you was, still tied to de post, all -kivered with blood. I was mighty feared ob you; but den I tought you had -been so perlite, and speaked so kind to me, dat I would take kare ob yer -body; so I tuck you down, and went wid you to de horse-trough, and dere -I poured some cold water ober yer, so as to wash away de clotted blood. -Den de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> cold water sorter 'vived you, and yer cried out 'oh, me!' Wal -dat did skeer me, and I let you drap right down in de trough, and de way -dis nigger did run, fur de life ob her. Well, as I git back I met Jake, -who had kum back wid de doctor, and I cried out, 'Oh Jake, de spirit ob -Ann done speaked to me!' 'Now, Polly,' says he, 'do hush your nonsense, -you does know dat Ann is done cold dead.' 'Well Jake,' says I, 'I tuck -her down frum de post, and tuck her to the trough to wash her, and -tought I'd fix de body out right nice, in de best close dat she had. -Well, jist as I got de water on it, somping hollowed out, 'oh me!' so -mournful like, dat it 'peared to me it kum out ob de ground.</p> - -<p>"'What fur den you do?' says Jake. 'Why, to be sure, I lef it right dar, -and run as fas' as my feet would carry me.'</p> - -<p>"By dis time de house was full ob de neighbors; all hab collected in de -house, fur de news dat Masser was kilt jist fly trough de neighborhood. -Miss Bradly hearn in de house 'bout de 'raculous 'pearance ob de sperit, -and she kum up to me, and say 'Polly, whar is de body of Ann?' 'Laws, -Miss Bradly, it is out in de trough, I won't go agin nigh to it.'</p> - -<p>"'Well,' say she, 'where is Jake? let him kum along wid me.'</p> - -<p>"'What, you ain't gwine nigh it?' I asked.</p> - -<p>"'Yes I is gwine right up to it,' she say, 'kase I knows thar is life in -it.' Well this sorter holpd me up, so I said, 'well I'll go too.' So we -tuck Jake, and Miss Bradly walked long wid us to de berry spot, and dar -you wus a settin up in de water ob de trough where I seed you; it -skeered me worse den eber, so I fell right down on de ground, and began -to pray to de Lord to hab marcy on us all; but Miss Bradly (she is a -quare woman) walked right up to you, and spoke to you.</p> - -<p>"'Laws,' says Jake, 'jist hear dat ar' woman talking wid a sperit,' and -down he fell, and went to callin on de Angel Gabriel to kum and holp -him.</p> - -<p>"Fust ting I knowed, Miss Bradly was a rollin' her shawl round yer body, -and axed you to walk out ob de trough.</p> - -<p>"Well, tinks I, dese am quare times when a stone-dead nigger<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> gits up -and walks agin like a live one. Well, widout any help from us, Miss -Bradly led you 'long into dis cabin. I followed arter. After while she -kind o' 'suaded me you was a livin'. Den I helped her wash you, and got -her some goose-greese, and we rubbed you all ober, from your head to yer -feet, and den you kind ob fainted away, and I began to run off; but Miss -Bradly say you only swoon, and she tuck a little glass vial out ob her -pocket, and held it to yer nose, and dis bring you to agin. After while -you fell off to sleep, and Miss Bradly bringed de Doctor out ob de house -to look at you. Well, he feel ob yer wrist, put his ear down to yer -breast, den say, 'may be wid care she will git well, but she hab been -powerful bad treated.' He shuck his head, and I knowed what he was -tinkin' 'bout, but I neber say one word. Den Miss Bradly wiped her eyes, -and de Doctor fetch anoder sigh, and say, dis is very 'stressing,' and -Miss Bradly say somepin agin 'slavery,' and de Doctor open ob his eyes -right wide and say, ''tis worth your head, Miss, for to say dat in dis -here country.' Den she kind of 'splained it to him, and tings just -seemed square 'twixt 'em, for she was monstrous skeered like, and turned -white as a sheet. Den I hearn de Doctor say sompin' 'bout ridin' on a -rail, and tar and feaders, and abolutionist. So arter dat, Miss Bradly -went into de house, arter she had bin a tellin' ob me to nurse you well; -dat you was way off hare from yer mammy, so eber sence den you has bin a -lying right dar on dat bed, and I hab nursed you as if you war my own -child."</p> - -<p>I threw my arms around her again, and imprinted kisses upon her rugged -brow; for, though her skin was sooty and her face worn with care, I -believed that somewhere in a silent corner of her tried heart there was -a ray of warm, loving, human feeling.</p> - -<p>"Oh, child," she begun, "can you wid yer pretty yallow face kiss an old -pitch-black nigger like me?"</p> - -<p>"Why, yes, Aunt Polly, and love you too; if your face is dark I am sure -your heart is fair."</p> - -<p>"Well, I doesn't know 'bout dat, chile; once 'twas far, but I tink all -de white man done made it black as my face."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p><p>"Oh no, I can't believe that, Aunt Polly," I replied.</p> - -<p>"Wal, I always hab said dat if dey would cut my finger and cut a white -woman's, dey would find de blood ob de very same color," and the old -woman laughed exultingly.</p> - -<p>"Yes, but, Aunt Polly, if you were to go before a magistrate with a case -to be decided, he would give it against you, no matter how just were -your claims."</p> - -<p>"To be sartin, de white folks allers gwine to do every ting in favor ob -dar own color."</p> - -<p>"But, Aunt Polly," interposed I, "there is a God above, who disregards -color."</p> - -<p>"Sure dare is, and dar we will all ob us git our dues, and den de white -folks will roast in de flames ob old Nick."</p> - -<p>I saw, from a furtive flash of her eye, that all the malignity and -revenge of her outraged nature were becoming excited, and I endeavored -to change the conversation.</p> - -<p>"Is master getting well?"</p> - -<p>"Why, yes, chile, de debbil can't kill him. He is 'termined to live jist -as long as dare is a nigger to torment. All de time he was crazy wid de -fever, he was fightin' wid de niggers—'pears like he don't dream 'bout -nothin' else."</p> - -<p>"Does he sit up now?" I asked this question with trepidation, for I -really dreaded to see him.</p> - -<p>"No, he can't set up none. De doctor say he lost a power o' blood, and -he won't let him eat meat or anyting strong, and I tells you, honey, -Masser does swar a heap. He wants to smoke his pipe, and to hab his -reglar grog, and dey won't gib it to him. It do take Jim and Jake bofe -to hold him in de bed, when his tantarums comes on. He fights dem, he -calls for de oberseer, he orders dat ebery nigger on de place shall be -tuck to de post. I tells you now, I makes haste to git out ob his way. -He struck Jake a lick dat kum mighty nigh puttin' out his eye. It's all -bunged up now."</p> - -<p>"Where did Mr. Somerville go?" I asked.</p> - -<p>"Oh, de young gemman dat dey say is a courtin' Miss Jane, he hab gone -back to de big town what he kum from; but Lindy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> say Miss Jane got a -great long letter from him, and Lindy say she tink Miss Jane gwine to -marry him."</p> - -<p>"Well, I belong to Miss Jane; I wonder if she will take me with her to -the town."</p> - -<p>"Why, yes, chile, she will, for she do believe in niggers. She wants 'em -all de time right by her side, a waitin' on her."</p> - -<p>This thought set me to speculating. Here, then, was the prospect of -another change in my home. The change might be auspicious; but it would -take me away from Aunt Polly, and remove me from Miss Bradly's -influence; and this I dreaded, for she had planted hopes in my breast, -which must blossom, though at a distant season, and I wished to be often -in her company, so that I might gain many important items from her.</p> - -<p>Aunt Polly, observing me unusually thoughtful, argued that I was sleepy, -and insisted upon my returning to bed. In order to avoid further -conversation, and preserve, unbroken, the thread of my reflections, I -obeyed her.</p> - -<p>Throwing myself carelessly upon the rough pallet, I wandered in fancy -until leaden-winged sleep overcame me.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2> - -<p class="center">AMY'S NARRATIVE, AND HER PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE.</p> - -<p>When the golden sun had begun to tinge with light the distant tree-tops, -and the young birds to chant their matin hymn, I awoke from my profound -sleep. Wearily I moved upon my pillow, for though my slumber had been -deep and sweet, yet now, upon awaking, I experienced no refreshment.</p> - -<p>Rising up in the bed, and supporting myself upon my elbow, I looked -round in quest of Aunt Polly; but then I remembered that she had to be -about the breakfast. Amy was sitting on the floor, endeavoring to -arrange the clothes on a little toddler, her orphan brother, over whom -she exercised a sort of maternal care. She, her two sisters, and infant -brother, were the orphans of a woman who had once belonged to a brother -of Mr. Peterkin. Their orphanage had not fallen upon them from the -ghastly fingers of death, but from the far more cruel and cold mandate -of human cupidity. A fair, even liberal price had been offered their -owner for their mother, Dilsy, and such a speculation was not to be -resigned upon the score of philanthropy. No, the man who would refuse -nine hundred dollars for a negro woman, upon the plea that she had three -young children and a helpless infant, from whom she must not be -separated, would, in Kentucky, be pronounced insane; and I can assure -you that, on this subject, the brave Kentuckians had good right to -decide, according to their code, that Elijah Peterkin was <i>compos -mentis</i>.</p> - -<p>"Amy," said I, as I rubbed my eyes, to dissipate the film and mists of -sleep, "is it very late? have you heard the horn blow for the hands to -come in from work?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p><p>"No, me hab not hearn it yet, but laws, Ann, me did tink you would -neber talk no more."</p> - -<p>"But you see I am talking now," and I could not resist a smile; "have -you been nursing me?"</p> - -<p>"No, indeed, Aunt Polly wouldn't let me come nigh yer bed, and she keep -all de time washing your body and den rubbin' it wid a feader an' -goose-greese. Oh, you did lay here so still, jist like somebody dead. -Aunt Polly, she wouldn't let one ob us speak one word, sed it would -'sturb you; but I knowed you wasn't gwine to kere, so ebery time she -went out, I jist laughed and talked as much as I want."</p> - -<p>"But did you not want me to get well, Amy?"</p> - -<p>"Why, sartin I did; but my laughin' want gwine to kill you, was it?" She -looked up with a queer, roguish smile.</p> - -<p>"No, but it might have increased my fever."</p> - -<p>"Well, if you had died, I would hab got yer close, now you knows you -promised 'em to me. So when I hearn Jake say you was dead, I run and got -yer new calico dress, and dat ribbon what Miss Jane gib you, an' put dem -in my box; den arter while Aunt Polly say you done kum back to life; so -I neber say notin' more, I jist tuck de close and put dem back in yer -box, and tink to myself, well, maybe I will git 'em some oder time."</p> - -<p>It amused me not a little to find that upon mere suspicion of my demise, -this little negro had levied upon my wardrobe, which was scanty indeed; -but so it is, be we ever so humble or poor, there is always some one to -regard us with a covetous eye. My little paraphernalia was, to this -half-savage child, a rich and wondrous possession.</p> - -<p>"Here, hold up yer foot, Ben, or you shan't hab any meat fur breakus." -This threat was addressed to her young brother, whom she nursed like a -baby, and whose tiny foot seemed to resist the restraint of a shoe.</p> - -<p>I looked long at them, and mused with a strange sorrow upon their -probable destiny. Bitter I knew it must be. For, where is there, beneath -the broad sweep of the majestic heavens, a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> single one of the dusky -tribe of Ethiopia who has not felt that existence was to him far more a -curse than a blessing? You, oh, my tawny brothers, who read these -tear-stained pages, ask your own hearts, which, perhaps, now ache almost -to bursting, ask, I say, your own vulture-torn hearts, if life is not a -hard, hard burden? Have you not oftentimes prayed to the All-Merciful to -sever the mystic tie that bound you here, to loosen your chains and set -you, soul and body, free? Have you not, from the broken chinks of your -lonely cabins at night, looked forth upon the free heavens, and murmured -at your fate? Is there, oh! slave, in your heart a single pleasant -memory? Do you not, captive-husband, recollect with choking pride how -the wife of your bosom has been cruelly lashed while you dared not say -one word in her defence? Have you not seen your children, precious -pledges of undying love, ruthlessly torn from you, bound hand and foot -and sold like dogs in the slave market, while you dared not offer a -single remonstrance? Has not every social and moral feeling been -outraged? Is it not the white man's policy to degrade your race, thereby -finding an argument to favor the perpetuation of Slavery? Is there for -us one thing to sweeten bondage? Free African! in the brave old States -of the North, where the shackles of slavery exist not, to you I call. -Noble defenders of Abolition, you whose earnest eyes may scan these -pages, I call to you with a <i>tearful voice</i>; I pray you to go on in your -glorious cause; flag not, faint not, prosecute it before heaven and -against man. Fling out your banners and march on to the defence of the -suffering ones at the South. And you, oh my heart-broken sisters, -toiling beneath a tropic sun, wearing out your lives in the service of -tyrants, to you I say, hope and pray still! Trust in God! He is mighty -and willing to save, and, in an hour that you know not of, he will roll -the stone away from the portal of your hearts. My prayers are with you -and for you. I have come up from the same tribulation, and I vow, by the -sears and wounds upon my flesh, never to forget your cause. Would that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> -my tears, which freely flow for you, had power to dissolve the fetters -of your wasting bondage.</p> - -<p>Thoughts like these, though with more vagueness and less form, passed -through my brain as I looked upon those poor little outcast children, -and I must be excused for thus making, regardless of the usual etiquette -of authors, an appeal to the hearts of my free friends. Never once do I -wish them to lose sight of the noble cause to which they have lent the -influence of their names. I am but a poor, unlearned woman, whose heart -is in her cause, and I should be untrue to the motive which induced me -to chronicle the dark passages in my woe-worn life if I did not urge and -importune the Apostles of Abolition to move forward and onward in their -march of reform.</p> - -<p>"Come, Amy, near to my bed, and talk a little with me."</p> - -<p>"I wants to git some bread fust."</p> - -<p>"You are always hungry," I pettishly replied.</p> - -<p>"No, I isn't, but den, Ann, I neber does git enuf to eat here. Now, we -use to hab more at Mas' Lijah's."</p> - -<p>"Was he a good master?" I asked.</p> - -<p>"No, he wasn't; but den mammy used to gib us nice tings to eat. She -buyed it from de store, and she let us hab plenty ob it."</p> - -<p>"Where is your mammy?"</p> - -<p>"She bin sold down de ribber to a trader," and there was a quiver in the -child's voice.</p> - -<p>"Did she want to go?" I inquired.</p> - -<p>"No, she cried a heap, and tell Masser she wouldn't mind it if he would -let her take us chilen; but Masser say no, he wouldn't. Den she axed him -please to let her hab little Ben, any how. Masser cussed, and said, -Well, she might hab Ben, as he was too little to be ob any sarvice; den -she 'peared so glad and got him all ready to take; but when de trader -kum to take her away, he say he wouldn't 'low her to take Ben, kase he -couldn't sell her fur as much, if she hab a baby wid her; den, oh den, -how poor mammy did cry and beg; but de trader tuck his cowhide and -whipped her so hard she hab to stop cryin'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> or beggin'. Den she kum to -me and make me promise to take good care ob Ben, to nurse him and tend -on him as long as I staid whar he was. Den she knelt down in de corner -of her cabin and prayed to God to take care ob us, all de days of our -life; den she kissed us all and squeezed us tight, and when she tuck -little Ben in her arms it 'peared like her heart would break. De water -from her eyes wet Ben's apron right ringing wet, jist like it had come -out ob a washing tub. Den de trader called to her to come along, and den -she gib dis to me, and told me dat ebery time I looked at it, I must -tink of my poor mammy dat was sold down de ribber, and 'member my -promise to her 'bout my little brudder."</p> - -<p>Here the child exhibited a bored five-cent piece, which she wore -suspended by a black string around her neck.</p> - -<p>"De chilen has tried many times to git it away frum me; but I's allers -beat 'em off; and whenever Miss Tildy wants me fur to mind her, she -says, 'Now, Amy, I'll jist take yer mammy's present from yer if yer -doesn't do what I bids yer;' den de way dis here chile does work isn't -slow, I ken tell yer," and with her characteristic gesture she run her -tongue out at the corner of her mouth in an oblique manner, and suddenly -withdrew it, as though it had passed over a scathing iron.</p> - -<p>"Could anything induce you to part with it?" I asked.</p> - -<p>She rolled her eyes up with a look of wonderment, and replied, half -ferociously, "Gracious! no—why, hasn't I bin whipped, 'bused and treed; -still I'd hold fast to this. No mortal ken take it frum me. You may kill -me in welcome," and the child shook her head with a philosophical air, -as she said, "and I don't kere much, so mammy's chilen dies along wid -me, fur I didn't see no use in our livin' eny how. I's done got my full -shere ob beatin' an' we haint no use on dis here airth—so I jist wants -fur to die."</p> - -<p>I looked upon her, so uncared for, so forlorn in her condition, and I -could not find it in my heart to blame her for the wish, erring and -rebellious as it must appear to the Christian. What <i>had</i> she to live -for? To those little children, the sacred bequests<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> of her mother, she -was no protection; for, even had she been capable of extending to them -all the guidance and watchfulness, both of soul and body, which their -delicate and immature natures required, there was every probability, -nay, there was a certainty, that this duty would be denied her. She -could not hope, at best, to live with them more than a few years. They -were but cattle, chattels, property, subject to the will and pleasure of -their owners. There would speedily come a time when a division must take -place in the estate, and that division would necessarily cause a -separation and rupture of family ties. What wonder then, that this poor -ignorant child sighed for the calm, unfearing, unbroken rest of the -grave? She dreamed not of a "more beyond;" she thought her soul mortal, -even as her body; and had she been told that there was for her a world, -even a blessed one, to succeed death, she would have shuddered and -feared to cross the threshold of the grave. She thought annihilation the -greatest, the only blessing awaiting her. The idea of another life would -have brought with it visions of a new master and protracted slavery. -Freedom and equality of souls, irrespective of <i>color</i>, was too -transcendental and chimerical an idea to take root in her practical -brain. Many times had she heard her master declare that "niggers were -jist like dogs, laid down and died, and nothin' come of them -afterwards." His philosophy could have proposed nothing more delightful -to her ease-coveting mind.</p> - -<p>Some weeks afterwards, when I was trying to teach her the doctrine of -the immortality of the soul, she broke forth in an idiotic laugh, as she -said, "oh, no, dat gold city what dey sings 'bout in hymns, will do fur -de white folks; but nothin' eber comes of niggers; dey jist dies and -rots."</p> - -<p>"Who do you think made negroes?" I inquired.</p> - -<p>Looking up with a meaning grin, she said, "White folks made 'em fur der -own use, I 'spect."</p> - -<p>"Why do you think that?"</p> - -<p>"Kase white folks ken kill 'em when dey pleases; so I 'spose dey make -'em."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p><p>This was a species of reasoning which, for a moment, confounded my -logic. Seeing that I lacked a ready reply, she went on:</p> - -<p>"Yes, you see, Ann, we hab no use wid a soul. De white folks won't hab -any work to hab done up dere, and so dey won't hab no use fur niggers."</p> - -<p>"Doesn't this make you miserable?"</p> - -<p>"What?" she asked, with amazement.</p> - -<p>"This thought of dying, and rotting like the vilest worm."</p> - -<p>"No, indeed, it makes me glad; fur den I'll not hab anybody to beat me; -knock, kick, and cuff me 'bout, like dey does now."</p> - -<p>"Poor child, happier far," I thought, "in your ignorance, than I, with -all the weight of fearful responsibility that my little knowledge -entails upon me. On you, God will look with a more pitying eye than upon -me, to whom he has delegated the stewardship of two talents."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> - -<p class="center">TALK AT THE FARM-HOUSE—THREATS—THE NEW BEAU—LINDY.</p> - -<p>Several days had elapsed since the morning conversation with Amy; -meanwhile matters were jogging along in their usually dull way. Of late, -since the flight of Mr. Jones, and the illness of Mr. Peterkin, there -had been considerably less fighting; but the ladies made innumerable -threats of what they would do, when their father should be well enough -to allow a suspension of nursing duties.</p> - -<p>My wounds had rapidly healed, and I had resumed my former position in -the discharge of household duties. Lindy, my old assistant, still held -her place. I always had an aversion to her. There was that about her -entire physique which made her odious to me. A certain laxity of the -muscles and joints of her frame, which produced a floundering, shuffling -sort of gait that was peculiarly disagreeable, a narrow, soulless -countenance, an oblique leer of the eye where an ambushed fiend seemed -to lurk, full, voluptuous lips, lengthy chin, and expanded nostril, -combined to prove her very low in the scale of animals. She had a kind -of dare-devil courage, which seemed to brave a great deal, and yet she -shrank from everything like punishment. There was a union of degrading -passions in her character. I doubt if the lowest realm of hades -contained a baser spirit. This girl, I felt assured from the first time -I beheld her, was destined to be my evil genius. I felt that the baleful -comet that presided over her birth, would in his reckless and maddening -course, rush too near the little star which, through cloud and shadow, -beamed on my destiny.</p> - -<p>She was not without a certain kind of sprightliness that passed for -intelligence; and she could by her adroitness of manœuvre<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> amble out -of any difficulty. With a good education she would have made an -excellent female pettifogger. She had all of the quickness and diablerie -usually summed up in that most expressive American word, "<i>smartness</i>."</p> - -<p>I was a good deal vexed and grieved to find myself again a partner of -hers in the discharge of my duties. It seemed to open my wounds afresh; -for I remembered that her falsehood had gained me the severe castigation -that had almost deprived me of life; and her laugh and jibe had rendered -my suffering at the accursed post even more humiliating. Yet I knew -better than to offer a demurrer to any arrangement that my mistress had -made.</p> - -<p>One day as I was preparing to set the table for the noon meal, Lindy -came to me and whispered, in an under-tone, "You finish the table, I am -going out; and if Miss Jane or Tildy axes where I is, say dat I went to -de kitchen to wash a dish."</p> - -<p>"Very well," I replied in my usual laconic style, and went on about my -work. It was well for her that she had observed this precaution; for in -a few moments Miss Tildy came in, and her first question was for Lindy. -I answered as I had been desired to do. The reply appeared to satisfy -her, and with the injunction (one she never failed to give), that I -should do my work well and briskly, she left the room.</p> - -<p>After I had arranged the table to my satisfaction, I went to the kitchen -to assist Aunt Polly in dishing up dinner.</p> - -<p>When I reached the kitchen I found Aunt Polly in a great quandary. The -fire was not brisk enough to brown her bread, and she dared not send it -to the table without its being as beautifully brown as a student's -meditations.</p> - -<p>"Oh, child," she began, "do run somewhar' and git me a scrap or so of -dry wood, so as to raise a smart little blaze to brown dis bread."</p> - -<p>"Indeed I will," and off I bounded in quest of the combustible material. -Of late Aunt Polly and I had become as devoted as mother and child. 'Tis -true there was a deep yearning in my heart, a thirst for intercommunion -of soul, which this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> untutored negress could not supply. She did not -answer, with a thrilling response, to the deep cry which my spirit sent -out; yet she was kind, and even affectionate, to me. Usually harsh to -others, with me she was gentle as a lamb. With a thousand little -motherly acts she won my heart, and I strove, by assiduous kindness, to -make her forget that I was not her daughter. I started off with great -alacrity in search of the dry wood, and remembered that on the day -previous I had seen some barrel staves lying near an out-house, and -these I knew would quickly ignite. When rapidly turning the corner of -the stable, I was surprised to see Lindy standing in close and -apparently free conversation with a strange-looking white man. The sound -of my rapid footsteps startled them; and upon seeing me, the man walked -off hastily. With a fluttering, excited manner, Lindy came up and said:</p> - -<p>"Don't say nothing 'bout haven' seed me wid dat ar' gemman; fur he used -to be my mars'er, and a good one he was too."</p> - -<p>I promised that I would say nothing about the matter, but first I -inquired what was the nature of the private interview.</p> - -<p>"Oh, he jist wanted fur to see me, and know how I was gitten' long."</p> - -<p>I said no more; but I was not satisfied with her explanation. I resolved -to watch her narrowly, and ferret out, if possible, this seeming -mystery. Upon my return to the kitchen, with my bundle of dry sticks, I -related what I had seen to Aunt Polly.</p> - -<p>"Dat gal is arter sompen not very good, you mark my words fur it."</p> - -<p>"Oh, maybe not, Aunt Polly," I answered, though with a conviction that I -was speaking at variance with the strong probabilities of the case.</p> - -<p>I hurried in the viands and meats for the table, and was not surprised -to find Lindy unusually obliging, for I understood the object. There was -an abashed air and manner which argued guilt, or at least, that she was -the mistress of a secret, for the entire possession of which she -trembled. Sundry little acts of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> unaccustomed kindness she offered me, -but I quietly declined them. I did not desire that she should insult my -honor by the offer of a tacit bribe.</p> - -<p>In the evening, when I was arranging Miss Jane's hair (this was my -especial duty), she surprised me by asking, in a careless and incautious -manner:</p> - -<p>"Ann, what is the matter with Lindy? she has such an excited manner."</p> - -<p>"I really don't know, Miss Jane; I have not observed anything very -unusual in her."</p> - -<p>"Well, I have, and I shall speak to her about it. Oh, there! slow, girl, -slow; you pulled my hair. Don't do it again. You niggers have become so -unruly since pa's sickness, that if we don't soon get another overseer, -there will be no living for you. There is Lindy in the sulks, simply -because she wants a whipping, and old Polly hasn't given us a meal fit -to eat."</p> - -<p>"Have I done anything, Miss Jane?" I asked with a misgiving.</p> - -<p>"No, nothing in particular, except showing a general and continued -sullenness. Now, I do despise to see a nigger always sour-looking; and I -can tell you, Ann, you must change your ways, or it will be worse for -you."</p> - -<p>"I try to be cheerful, Miss Jane, but—" here I wisely checked myself.</p> - -<p>"<i>Try to be</i>," she echoed with a satirical tone. "What do you mean by -<i>trying</i>? You don't dare to say you are not happy <i>here</i>?"</p> - -<p>Finding that I made no reply, she said, "If you don't cut your cards -squarely, you will find yourself down the river before long, and there -you are only half-clad and half-fed, and flogged every day." Still I -made no reply. I knew that if I spoke truthfully, and as my heart -prompted, it would only redound to my misery. What right had I to speak -of my mother. She was no more than an animal, and as destitute of the -refinement of common human feeling—so I forbore to allude to her, or my -great desire to see her. I dared not speak of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> horrible manner in -which my body had been cut and slashed, the half-lifeless condition in -which I had been taken from the accursed post, and all for a fault which -was not mine. These were things which, as they were done by my master's -commands, were nothing more than right; so with an effort, I controlled -my emotion, and checked the big tears which I felt were rushing up to my -eyes.</p> - -<p>When I had put the finishing stroke to Miss Jane's hair, and whilst she -was surveying herself in a large French mirror, Miss Bradly came in. -Tossing her bonnet off, she kissed Miss Jane very affectionately, nodded -to me, and asked,</p> - -<p>"Where is Tildy?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know, somewhere about the house, I suppose," replied Miss Jane.</p> - -<p>"Well, I have a new beau for her; now it will be a fine chance for -Tildy. I would have recommended you; but, knowing of your previous -engagement, I thought it best to refer him to the fair Matilda."</p> - -<p>Miss Jane laughed, and answered, that "though she was engaged, she would -have no objections to trying her charms upon another beau."</p> - -<p>There was a strange expression upon Miss Bradly's face, and a flurried, -excited manner, very different from her usually quiet demeanor.</p> - -<p>Miss Jane went about the room collecting, here and there, a stray pocket -handkerchief, under-sleeve, or chemisette; and, dashing them toward me, -she said,</p> - -<p>"Put these in wash, and do, pray, Ann, try to look more cheerful. Now, -Miss Emily," she added, addressing Miss Bradly, "we have the worst -servants in the world. There is Lindy, I believe the d—l is in her. She -is so strange in her actions. I have to repeat a thing three or four -times before she will understand me; and, as for Ann, she looks so -sullen that it gives one the horrors to see her. I've a notion to bring -Amy into the house. In the kitchen she is of no earthly service, and -doesn't earn her salt. I think I'll persuade pa to sell some of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> these -worthless niggers. They are no profit, and a terrible expense." -Thereupon she was interrupted by the entrance of Miss Tildy, whose face -was unusually excited. She did not perceive Miss Bradly, and so broke -forth in a torrent of invectives against "niggers."</p> - -<p>"I hate them. I wish this place were rid of every black face. Now we -can't find that wretched Lindy anywhere, high nor low. Let me once get -hold of her, and I'll be bound she shall remember it to the day of her -death. Oh! Miss Bradly, is that you? pray excuse me for not recognizing -you sooner; but since pa's sickness, these wretched negroes have -half-taken the place, and I shouldn't be surprised if I were to forget -myself," and with a kiss she seemed to think she had atoned to Miss -Bradly for her forgetfulness.</p> - -<p>To all of this Miss B. made no reply, I fancied (perhaps it was only -fancy) that there was a shade of discontent upon her face; but she still -preserved her silence, and Miss Tildy waxed warmer and warmer in her -denunciation of ungrateful "niggers."</p> - -<p>"Now, here, ours have every wish gratified; are treated well, fed well, -clothed well, and yet we can't get work enough out of them to justify us -in retaining our present number. As soon as pa gets well I intend to -urge upon him the necessity of selling some of them. It is really too -outrageous for us to be keeping such a number of the worthless wretches; -actually eating us out of house and home. Besides, our family expenses -are rapidly increasing. Brother must be sent off to college. It will not -do to have his education neglected. I really am becoming quite ashamed -of his want of preparation for a profession. I wish him sent to Yale, -after first receiving a preparatory course in some less noted -seminary,—then he will require a handsome outfit of books, and a -wardrobe inferior to none at the institution; for, Miss Emily, I am -determined our family shall have a position in every circle." As Miss -Tildy pronounced these words, she stamped her foot in the most emphatic -way, as if to confirm and ratify her determination.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p><p>"Yes," said Miss Jane, "I was just telling Miss Emily of our plans; and -I think we may as well bring Amy in the house. She is of no account in -the kitchen, and Lindy, Ginsy, and those brats, can be sold for a very -pretty sum if taken to the city of L——, and put upon the block, or -disposed of to some wealthy trader."</p> - -<p>"What children?" asked Miss Bradly.</p> - -<p>"Why, Amy's two sisters and brother, and Ginsy's child, and Ginsy too, -if pa will let her go."</p> - -<p>My heart ached well-nigh to bursting, when I heard this. Poor, poor Amy, -child-sufferer! another drop of gall added to thy draught of -wormwood—another thorn added to thy wearing crown. Oh, God! how I -shuddered for the victim.</p> - -<p>Miss Jane went on in her usual heartless tone. "It is expensive to keep -them; they are no account, no profit to us; and young niggers are my -'special aversion. I have, for a long time, intended separating Amy from -her two little sisters; she doesn't do anything but nurse that sickly -child, Ben, and it is scandalous. You see, Miss Emily, we want an arbor -erected in the yard, and a conservatory, and some new-style table -furniture."</p> - -<p>"Yes, and I want a set of jewels, and a good many additions to my -wardrobe, and Jane wishes to spend a winter in the city. She will be -forced to have a suitable outfit."</p> - -<p>"Yes, and I am going to have everything I want, if the farm is to be -sold," said Miss Jane, in a voice that no one dared to gainsay.</p> - -<p>"But come, let me tell you, Tildy, about the new beau I have for you," -said Miss Bradly.</p> - -<p>Instantly Miss Tildy's eyes began to glisten. The word "beau" was the -ready "sesame" to her good humor.</p> - -<p>"Oh, now, dear, good Miss Emily, tell me something about him. Who is he? -where from?" &c.</p> - -<p>Miss Bradly smiled, coaxingly and lovingly, as she answered:</p> - -<p>"Well, Tildy, darling, I have a friend from the North, who is travelling -for pleasure through the valley of the Mississippi;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> and I promised to -introduce him to some of the pretty ladies of the West; so, of course, I -feel pride in introducing my two pupils to him."</p> - -<p>This was a most agreeable sedative to their ill-nature; and both sisters -came close to Miss Bradly, fairly covering her with caresses, and -addressing to her words of flattery.</p> - -<p>As soon as my services were dispensed with I repaired to the kitchen, -where I found Aunt Polly in no very good or amiable mood. Something had -gone wrong about the arrangements for supper. The chicken was not brown -enough, or the cakes were heavy; something troubled her, and as a -necessary consequence her temper was suffering.</p> - -<p>"I's in an orful humor, Ann, so jist don't come nigh me."</p> - -<p>"Well, but, Aunt Polly, we should learn to control these humors. They -are not the dictates of a pure spirit; they are unchristian."</p> - -<p>"Oh, laws, chile, what hab us to do wid der Christians? We are like dem -poor headens what de preachers prays 'bout. We haint got no -'sponsibility, no more den de dogs."</p> - -<p>"I don't think that way, Aunt Polly; I think I am as much bound to do my -duty, and expect a reward at the hands of my Maker, as any white -person."</p> - -<p>"Oh, 'taint no use of talkin' dat ar' way, kase ebery body knows niggers -ain't gwine to de same place whar dar massers goes."</p> - -<p>I dared not confront her obstinacy with any argument; for I knew she was -unwilling to believe. Poor, apathetic creature! she was happier in -yielding up her soul to the keeping of her owner, than she would have -been in guiding it herself. This to me would have been enslavement -indeed; such as I could not have endured. He, my Creator, who gave me -this heritage of thought, and the bounty of Hope, gave me, likewise, a -strong, unbridled will, which nothing can conquer. The whip may bring my -body into subjection, but the free, free spirit soars where it lists, -and no man can check it. God is with the soul! aye, in it, animating and -encouraging it, sustaining it amid the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> crash, conflict, and the -elemental war of passion! The poor, weak flesh may yield; but, thanks to -God! the soul, well-girded and heaven-poised, will never shrink.</p> - -<p>Many and long have been the unslumbering nights when I have lain upon my -heap of straw, gazing at the pallid moon, and the sorrowful stars; -weaving mystic fancies as the wailing night-wind seemed to bring me a -message from the distant and the lost! I have felt whole vials of -heavenly unction poured upon my bruised soul; rich gifts have descended, -like the manna of old, upon my famishing spirit; and I have felt that -God was nearer to me in the night time. I have imagined that the very -atmosphere grew luminous with the presence of angelic hosts; and a -strange music, audible alone to my ears, has lulled me to the gentlest -of dreams! God be thanked for the night, the stars, and the spirit's -vision! Joy came not to me with the breaking of the morn; but peace, -undefined, enwrapped me when the mantle of darkness and the crown of -stars attested the reign of Night!</p> - -<p>I grieved to think that my poor friend, this old, lonely negress, had -nothing to soothe and charm her wearied heart. There was not a single -flower blooming up amid the rank weeds of her nature. Hard and rocky it -seemed; yet had I found the prophet's wand, whereby to strike the flinty -heart, and draw forth living waters! pure, genial draughts of -kindliness, sweet honey-drops, hived away in the lonely cells of her -caverned soul! I would have loved to give her a portion of that peace -which radiated with its divine light the depths of my inmost spirit. I -had come to her now for the purpose of giving her the sad intelligence -that awaited poor Amy; but I did not find her in a suitable mood. I felt -assured that her harshness would, in some way or other, jar the finer -and more sensitive harmonies of my nature. Perhaps she would say that -she did not care for the sufferings of the poor, lonely child; and that -her bereavement would be nothing more than just; yet I knew that she did -not feel thus. Deep in her secret soul there lay folded a white-winged -angel, even as the uncomely bulb <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>envelopes the fair petals of the lily; -and I longed for the summer warmth of kindness to bid it come forth and -bloom in beauty.</p> - -<p>But now I turned away from her, murmuring, "'Tis not the time." She -would not open her heart, and my own must likewise be closed and silent; -but when I met poor little Amy, looking so neglected, with scarcely -apparel sufficient to cover her nudity, my heart failed me utterly. -There she held upon her hip little Ben, her only joy; every now and then -she addressed some admonitory words to him, such as "Hush, baby, love," -"you's my baby," "sissy loves it," and similar expressions of coaxing -and endearment. And this, her only comfort, was about to be wrenched -from her. The only link of love that bound her to a weary existence, was -to be severed by the harsh mandate of another. Just God! is this right? -Oh, my soul, be thou still! Look on in patience! The cloud deepens -above! The day of God's wrath is at hand! They who have coldly forbidden -our indulging the sweet humanities of life, who have destroyed every -social relation, severed kith and kin, ruptured the ties of blood, and -left us more lonely than the beasts of the forest, may tremble when the -avenger comes!</p> - -<p>I ventured to speak with Amy, and I employed the kindest tone; but ever -and anon little Ben would send forth such a piteous wail, that I feared -he was in physical pain. Amy, however, very earnestly assured me that -she had administered catnip tea in plentiful quantities, and had -examined his person very carefully to discover if a pin or needle had -punctured his flesh; but everything seemed perfectly right.</p> - -<p>I attempted to take him in my arms; but he clung so vigorously to Amy's -shoulder, that it required strength to unfasten his grasp.</p> - -<p>"Oh, don'tee take him; he doesn't like fur to leab me. Him usen to me," -cried Amy, as in a motherly way she caressed him. "Now, pretty little -boy donee cry any more. Ann shan't hab you;—now be a good nice boy;" -and thus she expended upon him her whole vocabulary of endearing -epithets.</p> - -<p>"Who could," I asked myself, "have the heart to untie this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> sweet -fraternal bond? Who could dry up the only fountain in this benighted -soul? Oh, I have often marvelled how the white mother, who knows, in -such perfection, the binding beauty of maternal love, can look -unsympathizingly on, and see the poor black parent torn away from her -children. I once saw a white lady, of conceded <i>refinement</i>, sitting in -the portico of her own house, with her youngest born, a babe of some -seven months, dallying on her knee, and she toying with the pretty -gold-threads of its silken hair, whilst her husband was in the kitchen, -with a whip in his hand, severely lashing a negro woman, whom he had -sold to a trader—lashing her because she refused to go <i>cheerfully</i> and -leave her infant behind. The poor wretch, as a last resource, fled to -her Mistress, and, on her knees, begged her to have her child. "Oh, -Mistress," cried the frantic black woman, "ask Master to let me take my -baby with me." What think you was the answer of this white mother?</p> - -<p>"Go away, you impudent wretch, you don't deserve to have your child. It -will be better off away from you!" Aye, this was the answer which, -accompanied by a derisive sneer, she gave to the heart-stricken black -mother. Thus she felt, spoke, and acted, even whilst caressing her own -helpless infant! Who would think it injustice to "commend the -poison-chalice to her own lips"? She, this fine lady, was known to weep -violently, because an Irish woman was unable to save a sufficiency of -money from her earnings to bring her son from Ireland to America; but, -for the African mother, who was parting eternally from her helpless -babe, she had not so much as a consolatory word. Oh, ye of the proud -Caucasian race, would that your hearts were as fair and spotless as your -complexions! Truly can the Saviour say of you, "Oh, Jerusalem, -Jerusalem, I would have gathered you together as a hen gathereth her -chickens, but ye would not!" Oh, perverse generation of vipers, how long -will you abuse the Divine forbearance!</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2> - -<p class="center">LINDY'S BOLDNESS—A SUSPICION—THE MASTER'S ACCOUNTABILITY—THE YOUNG -REFORMER—WORDS OF HOPE—THE CULTIVATED MULATTO—THE DAWN OF AMBITION.</p> - -<p>In about an hour Lindy came in, looking very much excited, yet -attempting to conceal it beneath the mask of calmness. I affected not to -notice it, yet was it evident, from various little attentions and -manifold kind words, that she sought to divert suspicion, and avoid all -questioning as to her absence.</p> - -<p>"Where," she asked me, "are the young ladies? have they company?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," I replied, "Miss Bradly is with them, and they are expecting a -young gentleman, an acquaintance of Miss B.'s."</p> - -<p>"Who is he?"</p> - -<p>"Why, Lindy, how should I know?"</p> - -<p>"I thought maybe you hearn his name."</p> - -<p>"No, I did not, and, even if I had, it would have been so unimportant to -me that I should have forgotten it."</p> - -<p>She opened her eyes with a vacant stare, but it was perceptible that she -wandered in thought.</p> - -<p>"Now, Lindy," I began, "Miss Jane has missed you from the house, and -both she and Miss Tildy have sworn vengeance against you."</p> - -<p>"So have I sworn it agin' them."</p> - -<p>"What! what did you say, Lindy?"</p> - -<p>Really I was surprised at the girl's hardihood and boldness. She had -been thrown from her guard, and now, upon regaining her composure, was -alarmed.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I was only joking, Ann; you knows we allers jokes."</p> - -<p>"I never do," I said, with emphasis.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p><p>"Yes, but den, Ann, you see you is one ob de quare uns."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean by quare?" I asked.</p> - -<p>"Oh, psha, 'taint no use ob talkin wid you, for you is good; but kum, -tell me, is dey mad wid me in de house, and did dey say dey would beat -me?"</p> - -<p>"Well, they threatened something of the kind."</p> - -<p>Her face grew ashen pale; it took that peculiar kind of pallor which the -negro's face often assumes under the influence of fear or disease, and -which is so disagreeable to look upon. Enemy of mine as she had deeply -proven herself to be, I could not be guilty of the meanness of exulting -in her trouble.</p> - -<p>"But," she said, in an imploring tone, "you will not repeat what I jist -said in fun."</p> - -<p>"Of course I will not; but don't you remember that it was your falsehood -that gained for me the only post-whipping that I ever had?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; but den I is berry sorry fur dat, and will not do it any more."</p> - -<p>This was enough for me. An acknowledgment of contrition, and a -determination to do better, are all God requires of the offender; and -shall poor, erring mortals demand more? No; my resentment was fully -satisfied. Besides, I felt that this poor creature was not altogether -blamable. None of her better feelings had been cultivated; they were -strangled in their incipiency, whilst her savage instincts were left to -run riot. Thus the bad had ripened into a full and noxious development, -whilst the noble had been crushed in the bud. Who is to be answerable -for the short-comings of such a soul? Surely he who has cut it off from -all moral and mental culture, and has said to the glimmerings of its -faint intellect, "Back, back to the depths of darkness!" Surely he will -and must take upon himself the burden of accountability. The sin is at -his door, and woe-worth the day, when the great Judge shall come to pass -sentence upon him. I have often thought that the master of slaves must, -for consistency's sake, be an infidel—or doubt man's exact -accountability to God for the deeds done in the body;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> for how can he -willingly assume the sins of some hundreds of souls? In the eye of human -law, the slave has no responsibility; the master assumes all for him. If -the slave is found guilty of a capital offence, punishable with death, -the master is indemnified by a paid valuation, for yielding up the -person of the slave to the demands of offended justice? If a slave earns -money by his labors at night or holidays, or if he is the successful -holder of a prize ticket in a lottery, his master can legally claim the -money, and there is no power to gainsay him? If, then, human law -recognizes a negro as irresponsible, how much more lenient and just will -be the divine statute? Thus, I hold (and I cannot think there is just -logician, theologian, or metaphysician, who will dissent), that the -owner of slaves becomes sponsor to God for the sins of his slave; and I -cannot, then, think that one who accredits the existence of a just God, -a Supreme Ruler, to whom we are all responsible for our deeds and words, -would willingly take upon himself the burden of other people's faults -and transgressions.</p> - -<p>Whilst I stood talking with Lindy, the sound of merry laughter reached -our ears.</p> - -<p>"Oh, dat is Miss Tildy, now is my time to go in, and see what dey will -say to me; maybe while dey is in a good humor, dey will not beat me."</p> - -<p>And, thus saying, Lindy hurried away. Sad thoughts were crowding in my -mind. Dark misgivings were stirring in my brain. Again I thought of the -blessed society, with its humanitarian hope and aim, that dwelt afar off -in the north. I longed to ask Miss Bradly more about it. I longed to -hear of those holy men, blessed prophets foretelling a millennial era -for my poor, down-trodden and despised race. I longed to ask questions -of her; but of late she had shunned me; she scarcely spoke to me; and -when she did speak, it was with indifference, and a degree of coldness -that she had never before assumed.</p> - -<p>With these thoughts in my mind I stole along through the yard, until I -stood almost directly under the window of the parlor. Something in the -tone of a strange voice that reached<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> my ear, riveted my attention. It -was a low, manly tone, lute-like, yet swelling on the breeze, and -charming the soul! It refreshed my senses like a draught of cooling -water. I caught the tone, and could not move from the spot. I was -transfixed.</p> - -<p>"I do not see why Fred Douglas is not equal to the best man in the land. -What constitutes worth of character? What makes the man? What gives -elevation to him?" These were the words I first distinctly heard, spoken -in a deep, earnest tone, which I have never forgotten. I then heard a -silly laugh, which I readily recognized as Miss Jane's, as she answered, -"You can't pretend to say that you would be willing for a sister of -yours to marry Fred Douglas, accomplished as you consider him?"</p> - -<p>"I did not speak of marrying at all; and might I not be an advocate of -universal liberty, without believing in amalgamation? Yet, it is a -question whether even amalgamation should be forbidden by law. The negro -is a different race; but I do not know that they have other than human -feelings and emotions. The negroes are, with us, the direct descendants -from the great progenitor of the human family, old Adam. They may, when -fitted by education, even transcend us in the refinements and graces -which adorn civilized character. In loftiness of purpose, in mental -culture, in genius, in urbanity, in the exercise of manly virtues, such -as fortitude, courage, and philanthropy, where will you show me a man -that excels Fred Douglas? And must the mere fact of his tawny complexion -exclude him from the pale of that society which he is so eminently -fitted to grace? Might I not (if it were made a question) prefer uniting -my sister's fate with such a man, even though partially black, to seeing -her tied to a low fellow, a wine-bibber, a swearer, a villain, who -possessed not one cubit of the stature of true manhood, yet had a -complexion white as snow? Ah, Miss, it is not the skin which gives us -true value as men and women; 'tis the momentum of mind and the purity of -morals, the integrity of purpose and nobility of soul, that make our -place in the scale of being. I care not if the skin be black as Erebus -or fair and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> smooth as satin, so the heart and mind be right. I do not -deal in externals or care for surfaces."</p> - -<p>These words were as the bread of life to me. I could scarcely resist the -temptation to leave my hiding-place and look in at the open window, to -get sight of the speaker; surely, I thought, he must wear the robes of a -prophet. I could not very distinctly hear what Miss Jane said in reply. -I could catch many words, such as "nigger" and "marry" "white lady," and -other expressions used in an expostulatory voice; but the platitudes -which she employed would not have answered the demand of my higher -reason. Old perversions and misinterpretations of portions of the Bible, -such as the story of Hagar, and the curse pronounced upon Ham, were -adduced by Miss Jane and Miss Tildy in a tone of triumph.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I sicken over these stories," said the same winning voice. "How -long will Christians willingly resist the known truth? How long will -they bay at heaven with their cruel blasphemies? For I hold it to be -blasphemy when a body of Christians, professing to be followers of Him -who came from heaven to earth, and assumed the substance of humanity to -teach us a lesson, argue thus. Our Great Model declares that 'He came -not to be ministered unto but to minister.' He inculcated practically -the lesson of humility in the washing of the disciples' feet; yet, these -His modern disciples, the followers of to-day, preach, even from the -sacred desk, the right of men to hold their fellow-creatures in bondage -through endless generations, to sell them for gold, to beat them, to -keep them in a heathenish ignorance; and yet declare that it all has the -divine sanction. Verily, oh night of Judaism, thou wast brighter than -this our noon-day of Christianity! Black and bitter is the account, oh -Church of God, that thou art gathering to thyself! I could pray for a -tongue of inspiration, wherewith to denounce this foul crime. I could -pray for the power to show to my country the terrible stain she has -painted upon the banner of freedom. How dare we, as Americans, boast of -this as the home and temple of liberty? Where are the 'inalienable -rights' of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> which our Constitution talks in such trumpet-tones? Does not -our Declaration of Independence aver, that all men are born free and -equal? Now, do we not make this a practical falsehood? Let the poor -slave come up to the tribunal of justice, and ask the wise judge upon -the bench to interpret this piece of plain English to him! How would the -man of ermine blush at his own quibbles?"</p> - -<p>I could tell from the speaker's voice that he had risen from his seat, -and I knew, from the sound of footsteps, that he was approaching the -window. I crouched down lower and lower, in order to conceal myself from -observation, but gazed up to behold one whose noble sentiments and bold -expression of them had so entranced me.</p> - -<p>Very noble looked he, standing there, with the silver moonlight beaming -upon his broad, white brow, and his deep, blue eye uplifted to the -star-written skies. His features were calm and classic in their mould, -and a mystic light seemed to idealize and spiritualize his face and -form. Kneeling down upon the earth, I looked reverently to him, as the -children of old looked upon their prophets. He did not perceive me, and -even if he had, what should I have been to him—a pale-browed student, -whose thought, large and expansive, was filled with the noble, the -philanthropic, and the great. Yet, there I crouched in fear and -trembling, lest a breath should betray my secret place. But, would not -his extended pity have embraced me, even me, a poor, insignificant, -uncared-for thing in the great world—one who bore upon her face the -impress of the hated nation? Ay, I felt that he would not have condemned -me as one devoid of the noble impulse of a heroic humanity. If the -African has not heroism, pray where will you find it? Are there, in the -high endurance of the heroes of old Sparta, sufferings such as the -unchronicled life of many a slave can furnish forth? Martyrs have gone -to the stake; but amid the pomp and sounding psaltery of a choir, and -above the flame, the fagot and the scaffold, they descried the immortal -crown, and even the worldly and sensuous desire of canonization may not -have been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> dead with them. The patriot braves the battle, and dies amid -the thickest of the carnage, whilst the jubilant strains of music herald -him away. The soldier perishes amid the proud acclaim of his countrymen; -but the poor negro dies a martyr, unknown, unsung, and uncheered. Many -expire at the whipping-post, with the gleesome shouts of their inhuman -tormentors, as their only cheering. Yet few pity us. We are valuable -only as property. Our lives are nothing, and our souls—why they -scarcely think we have any. In reflecting upon these things, in looking -calmly back over my past life, and in reviewing the lives of many who -are familiar to me, I have felt that the Lord's forbearance must indeed -be great; and when thoughts of revenge have curdled my blood, the prayer -of my suffering Saviour: "Father forgive them, for they know not what -they do," has flashed through my mind, and I have repelled them as angry -and unchristian. Jesus drank the wormwood and the gall; and we, oh, -brethren and sisters of the banned race, must "tread the wine-press -alone." We must bear firmly upon the burning ploughshare, and pass -manfully through the ordeal, for vengeance is His and He will repay.</p> - -<p>But there, in the sweet moonlight, as I looked upon this young apostle -of reform, a whole troop of thoughts less bitter than these swept over -my mind. There were gentle dreamings of a home, a quiet home, in that -Northland, where, at least, we are countenanced as human beings. "Who," -I asked myself, "is this mysterious Fred Douglas?" A black man he -evidently was; but how had I heard him spoken of? As one devoted to -self-culture in its noblest form, who ornamented society by his imposing -and graceful bearing, who electrified audiences with the splendor of his -rhetoric, and lured scholars to his presence by the fame of his -acquirements; and this man, this oracle of lore, was of my race, of my -blood. What he had done, others might achieve. What a high determination -then fired my breast! Give, give me but the opportunity, and my chief -ambition will be to prove that we, though wronged and despised, are not -inferior to the proud Caucasians. I will strive to redeem<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> from unjust -aspersion the name of my people. He, this illustrious stranger, gave the -first impetus to my ambition; from him my thoughts assumed a form, and -one visible aim now possessed my soul.</p> - -<p>How long I remained there listening I do not remember, for soon the -subject of conversation was changed, and I noted not the particular -words; but that mournfully musical voice had a siren-charm for my ear, -and I could not tear myself away. Whilst listening to it, sweet sleep, -like a shielding mantle, fell upon me.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2> - -<p class="center">THE CONVERSATION IN WHICH FEAR AND SUSPICION ARE AROUSED—THE YOUNG MASTER.</p> - -<p>It must have been long after midnight when I awoke. I do not remember -whether I had dreamed or not, but the slumber had brought refreshment to -my body and peace to my heart.</p> - -<p>I was aroused by the sound of voices, in a suppressed whisper, or rather -in a tone slightly above a whisper. I thought I detected the voice of -Lindy, and, as I rose from my recumbent posture, I caught sight of a -figure flitting round the gable of the house. I followed, but there was -nothing visible. The pale moonlight slept lovingly upon the dwelling and -the roofs of the out-buildings. Whither could the figure have fled? -There was no sign of any one having been there. Slowly and sadly I -directed my steps toward Aunt Polly's cabin. I opened the door -cautiously, not wishing to disturb her; but easy and noiseless as were -my motions, they roused that faithful creature. She sprang from the bed, -exclaiming:</p> - -<p>"La, Ann, whar has yer bin? I has bin so oneasy 'bout yer."</p> - -<p>With my native honesty I explained to her that I had been beguiled by -the melody of a human voice, and had lingered long out in the autumn -moonlight.</p> - -<p>"Yes; but, chile, you'll be sick. Sleepin' out a doors is berry -onwholesome like."</p> - -<p>"Yes; but, Aunt Polly, there is an interior heat which no autumnal frost -has power to chill."</p> - -<p>"Yes, chile, you does talk so pretty, like dem ar' great white -scholards. Many times I has wondered how a poor darkie could larn so -much. Now it 'pears to me as if you knowed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> much as any ob 'em. I don't -tink Miss Bradly hersef talks any better dan you does."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Aunt Polly, your praise is sweet to me; but then, you must remember -not to do me more than justice. I am a poor, illiterate mulatto girl, -who has indeed improved the modicum of time allowed her for -self-culture; yet, when I hear such ladies as Miss Bradly talk, I feel -how far inferior I am to the queens of the white tribe. Often I ask -myself why is this? Is it because my face is colored? But then there is -a voice, deep down in my soul, that rejects such a conclusion as -slanderous. Oh, give me but opportunity, and I will strive to equal them -in learning."</p> - -<p>"I don't see no use in yer wanting to larn, when you is nothing but a -poor slave. But I does think the gift of fine speech mighty valable."</p> - -<p>And here is another thing upon which I would generalize. Does it not -argue the possession of native mind—the immense value the African -places upon words—the high-flown and broad-sounding words that he -usually employs? The ludicrous attempts which the most untutored make at -grandiloquence, should not so much provoke mirth as admiration in the -more reflective of the white race. Through what barriers and obstacles -do not their minds struggle to force a way up to the light. I have often -been astonished at the quickness with which they seized upon -expressions, and the accuracy with which they would apply them. Every -crude attempt which they make toward self-culture is laughed at and -scorned by the master, or treated as the most puerile folly. No -encouragement is given them. If, by almost superhuman effort, they gain -knowledge, why they may; but, unaided and alone, they must work, as I -have done. Moreover, I have been wonder-stricken at the facility with -which the negro-boy acquires learning. 'Tis as though the rudiments of -the school came to him by flashes of intuition. He is allowed only a -couple of hours on Sunday afternoons for recitations, and such odd -moments during the week as he can catch to prepare his lessons; for, a -servant-boy often caught with his book in hand,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> would be pronounced -indolent, and punished as such. Then, how unjust it is for the proud -statesman—prouder of his snowy complexion than of his stores of -knowledge—how unjust, I say, is it in him to assert, in the halls of -legislation, that the colored race are to the white far inferior in -native mind! Has he weighed the advantages and disadvantages of both? -Has he remembered that the whites, through countless generations, have -been cultivated and refined—familiarized with the arts and sciences and -elegancies of a graceful age, whilst the blacks are bound down in -ignorance; unschooled in lore; untrained in virtue; taught to look upon -themselves as degraded—the mere drudges of their masters; debarred the -privileges of social life; excluded from books, with the products of -their labor going toward the enrichment of others? When, as in some -solitary instance, a single mind dares to break through the restraints -and impediments imposed upon it, does not the fact show of what strength -the race, when properly cared for, is capable? Is not the bulb, which -enshrouds the snowy leaves of the fragrant lily, an unsightly thing? -Does the uncut diamond show any of the polish and brilliancy which the -lapidary's hand can give it? Thus is it with the African mind. Let but -the schoolmen breathe upon it, let the architect of learning fashion it, -and no diamond ever glittered with more resplendence. With a more than -prismatic light, it will refract the beams of the sun of knowledge; and -the heart, the most noble African's heart, that now slumbers in the bulb -of ignorance, will burst forth, pure and lovely as the white-petaled -lily!</p> - -<p>I hope, kind reader, you will pardon these digressions, as I write my -inner as well as outer life, and I should be unfaithful to my most -earnest thoughts were I not to chronicle such reflections as these. This -book is not a wild romance to beguile your tears and cheat your fancy. -No; it is the truthful autobiography of one who has suffered long, long, -the pains and trials of slavery. And she is committing her story, with -her own calm deductions, to the consideration of every thoughtful and -truth-loving mind.</p> - -<p>"Where," I asked Aunt Polly, "is Lindy?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p><p>"Oh, chile, I doesn't know whar dat gal is. Sompen is de matter wid -her. She bin flyin' round here like somebody out ob dar head. All's not -right wid her, now you mark my words fur it."</p> - -<p>I then related to her the circumstance which had occurred whilst I was -under the window.</p> - -<p>"I does jist know dat was Lindy! You didn't see who she was talkin' -wid?"</p> - -<p>"No; and I did not distinctly discern her form; but the voice I am -confident was her's."</p> - -<p>"Well, sompen is gwine to happen; kase Lindy is berry great coward, and -I well knows 'twas sompen great dat would make her be out dar at -midnight."</p> - -<p>"What do you think it means?" I asked.</p> - -<p>"Why, lean up close to me, chile, while I jist whisper it low like to -you. I believe Lindy is gwine to run off."</p> - -<p>I started back in terror. I felt the blood grow cold in my veins. Why, -if she made such an attempt as this, the whole country would be scoured -for her. Hot pursuers would be out in every direction. And then her -flight would render slavery ten times more severe for us. Master would -believe that we were cognizant of it, and we should be put to torture -for the purpose of wringing from us something in regard to her. Then, -apprehension of our following her example would cause the reins of -authority to be even more tightly drawn. What wonder, then, that fright -possessed our minds, as the horrid suspicion began to assume something -like reality. We regarded each other in silent horror. The dread -workings of the fiend of fear were visible in the livid hue which -overspread my companion's face and shone in the glare of her aged eye. -She clasped her skinny hands together, and cried,</p> - -<p>"Oh, my chile, orful times is comin' fur us. While Lindy will be off in -that 'lightful Canady, we will be here sufferin' all sorts of trouble. -Oh, de Lord, if dar be any, hab marcy on us!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, Aunt Polly, don't say 'if there be any;' for, so certain as we both -sit here, there is a Lord who made us, and who cares<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> for us, too. We -are as much the children of His love as are the whites."</p> - -<p>"Oh Lord, chile, I kan't belieb it; fur, if he loves us, why does he -make us suffer so, an' let de white folks hab such an easy time?"</p> - -<p>"He has some wise purpose in it. And then in that Eternity which -succeeds the grave, He will render us blest and happy."</p> - -<p>The clouds of ignorance hung too thick and close around her mind; and -the poor old woman did not see the justice of such a decree. She was not -to blame if, in her woeful ignorance, she yielded to unbelief; and, with -a profanity which knowledge would have rebuked, dared to boldly question -the Divine Purpose. This sin, also, is at the white man's door.</p> - -<p>I did not strive further to enlighten her; for, be it confessed, I was -myself possessed by physical fear to an unwonted degree. I did not think -of courting sleep. The brief dream which had fallen upon me as I slept -beneath the parlor window, had given me sufficient refreshment. And as -for Aunt Polly, she was too much frightened to think of sleep. Talk we -did, long and earnestly. I mentioned to her what I had heard Misses -Tildy and Jane say in regard to Amy.</p> - -<p>"Poor thing," exclaimed Aunt Polly, "she'll not be able to stand it, for -her heart is wrapped up in dat ar' chile's. She 'pears like its mother."</p> - -<p>"I hope they may change their intentions," I ventured to say.</p> - -<p>"No; neber. When wonst Miss Jane gets de notion ob finery in her head, -she is gwine to hab it. Lord lub you, Ann, I does wish dey would sell -you and me."</p> - -<p>"So do I," was my fervent reply.</p> - -<p>"But dey will neber sell you, kase Miss Jane tinks you is good-lookin', -an' I hearn her say she would like to hab a nice-lookin' maid. You see -she tinks it is 'spectable."</p> - -<p>"I suppose I must bear my cross and crown of thorns with patience."</p> - -<p>Just then little Ben groaned in his sleep, and quickly his ever-watchful -guardian was aroused; she bent over him, soothing his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> perturbed sleep -with a low song. Many were the endearing epithets which she employed, -such as, "Pretty little Benny, nothing shall hurt you." "Bless your -little heart," and "here I is by yer side," "I'll keep de bars way frum -yer."</p> - -<p>"Poor child," burst involuntarily from my lips, as I reflected that even -that one only treasure would soon be taken from her; then in what a -hopeless eclipse would sink every ray of mind. Hearing my exclamation, -she sprung up, and eagerly asked,</p> - -<p>"What is de matter, Ann? Why is you and Aunt Polly sittin' up at dis -time ob of de night? It's most day; say, is anything gwine on?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing at all," I answered, "only Aunt Polly does not feel very well, -and I am sitting up talking with her."</p> - -<p>Thus appeased, she returned to her bed (if such a miserable thing could -be called a bed), and was soon sleeping soundly.</p> - -<p>Aunt Polly wiped her eyes as she said to me,</p> - -<p>"Ann, doesn't we niggers hab to bar a heap? We works hard, and gits -nothing but scanty vittels, de scraps dat de white folks leabes, and den -dese miserable old rags dat only half kevers our nakedness. I declare it -is too hard to bar."</p> - -<p>"Yes," I answered, "it is hard, very hard, and enough to shake the -endurance of the most determined martyr; yet, often do I repeat to -myself those divine words, 'The cup which my Father has given me will I -drink;' and then I feel calmed, strong, and heroic."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Ann, chile, you does talk so beautiful, an' you has got de rale -sort ob religion."</p> - -<p>"Oh, would that I could think so. Would that my soul were more patient. -I am not sufficiently hungered and athirst after righteousness. I pant -too much for the joys of earth. I crave worldly inheritance, whilst the -Christian's true aim should be for the mansions of the blest."</p> - -<p>Thus wore on the night in social conversation, and I forgot, in that -free intercourse, that there was a difference between us. The heart -takes not into consideration the distinction of mind.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> Love banishes all -thought of rank or inequality. By her kindness and confidence, this old -woman made me forget her ignorance.</p> - -<p>When the first red streak of day began to announce the slow coming of -the sun, Aunt Polly was out, and about her breakfast arrangements.</p> - -<p>Since the illness of Master, and the departure of Mr. Jones, things had -not gone on with the same precision as before. There was a few minutes -difference in the blowing of the horn; and, for offences like these, -Master had sworn deeply that "every nigger's hide" should be striped, as -soon as he was able to preside at the "post." During his sickness he had -not allowed one of us to enter his room; "for," as he said to the -doctor, "a cussed nigger made him feel worse, he wanted to be up and -beatin' them. They needed the cowhide every breath they drew." And, as -the sapient doctor decided that our presence had an exciting effect upon -him, we were banished from his room. "<i>Banished!</i>—what's banished but -set free!"</p> - -<p>Now, when I rose from my seat, and bent over the form of Amy, and -watched her as she lay wrapt in a profound sleep, with one arm -encircling little Ben, and the two sisters, Jane and Luce, lying close -to her—so dependent looked the three, as they thus huddled round their -young protectress, so loving and trustful in that deep repose, that I -felt now would be a good time for the angel Death to come—now, before -the fatal fall of the Damoclesian sword, whose hair thread was about to -snap: but no—Death comes not at our bidding; he obeys a higher -appointment. The boy moaned again in his sleep, and Amy's faithful arm -was tightened round him. Closer she drew him to her maternal heart, and -in a low, gurgling, songful voice, lulled him to a sweeter rest. I -turned away from the sight, and, sinking on my knees, offered up a -prayer to Him our common Father. I prayed that strength might be -furnished me to endure the torture which I feared would come with the -labors of the day. I asked, in an especial way, for grace to be given to -the child, Amy. God is merciful! He moves in a mysterious <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>manner. All -power comes direct from Him; and, oh, did I not feel that this young -creature had need of grace to bear the burden that others were preparing -for her!</p> - -<p>My business was to clean the house and set to rights the young ladies' -apartment, and then assist Lindy in the breakfast-room; but I dared not -venture in the ladies' chamber until half-past six o'clock, as the -slightest foot-fall would arouse Miss Jane, who, I think, was too -nervous to sleep. Thus I was left some little time to myself; and these -few moments I generally devoted to reading some simple story-book or -chapters in the New Testament. Of course, the mighty mysteries of the -sacred volume were but imperfectly appreciated by me. I read the book -more as a duty than a pleasure; but this morning I could not read. -Christ's beautiful parable of the Ten Virgins, which has such a wondrous -significance even to the most childish mind, failed to impart interest, -and the blessed page fell from my hands unread.</p> - -<p>I then thought I would go to the kitchen and assist Aunt Polly. I found -her very much excited, and in close conversation with our master's son -John, whom the servants familiarly addressed as "young master."</p> - -<p>I have, as yet, forborne all direct and special mention of him, though -he was by no means a person lacking interest. Unlike his father and -sisters, he was gentle in disposition, full of loving kindness; yet he -was so taciturn, that we had seldom an indication of that generosity -that burned so intensely in the very centre of his soul, and which -subsequent events called forth. His sisters pronounced him stupid; and, -in the choice phraseology of his father, he was "poke-easy;" but the -poor, undiscriminating black people, called him gentle. To me he said -but little; yet that little was always kindly spoken, and I knew it to -be the dictate of a soft, humane spirit.</p> - -<p>Fair-haired, with deep blue eyes, a snowy complexion and pensive -manners, he glided by us, ever recalling to my mind the thought of -seraphs. He was now fifteen years of age, but small of stature and -slight of sinew, with a mournful expression and dejected eye, as though -the burden of a great sorrow had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> been early laid upon him. During all -my residence there, I had never heard him laugh loud or seen him run. He -had none of that exhilaration and buoyancy which are so captivating in -childhood. If he asked a favor of even a servant, he always expressed a -hope that he had given no trouble. When a slave was to be whipped, he -would go off and conceal himself somewhere, and never was he a spectator -of any cruelty; yet he did not remonstrate with his father or intercede -for the victims. No one had ever heard him speak against the diabolical -acts of his father; yet all felt that he condemned them, for there was a -silent expression of reproof in the earnest gaze which he sometimes gave -him. I always fancied when the boy came near me, that there was about -him a religion, which, like the wondrous virtue of the Saviour's -garment, was manifest only when you approached near enough to touch it. -It was not expressed in any open word, or made evident by any signal -act, but, like the life-sustaining air which we daily breathe, we knew -it only through its beneficent though invisible influence.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2> - -<p class="center">THE FLIGHT—YOUNG MASTER'S APPREHENSIONS—HIS -CONVERSATION—AMY—EDIFYING TALK AMONG LADIES.</p> - -<p>I was not a little surprised to find young master now in an apparently -earnest colloquy with Aunt Polly. A deep carnation spot burned upon his -cheeks, and his soft eye was purple in its intensity.</p> - -<p>"What is the matter?" I asked.</p> - -<p>"Lor, chile," replied Aunt Polly, "Lindy can't be found nowhar."</p> - -<p>"Has every place been searched?" I inquired.</p> - -<p>"Yes," said little John, "and she is nowhere to be found."</p> - -<p>"Does master know it?"</p> - -<p>"Not yet, and I hope it may be kept from him for some time, at least two -or three hours," he replied, with a mournful earnestness of tone.</p> - -<p>"Why? Is he not well enough to bear the excitement of it?" I inquired.</p> - -<p>The boy fixed his large and wondering eyes upon me. His gaze lingered -for a minute or two; it was enough; I read his inmost thoughts, and in -my secret soul I revered him, for I bowed to the majesty of a -heaven-born soul. Such spirits are indeed few. God lends them to earth -for but a short time; and we should entertain them well, for, though -they come in forms unrecognized, yet must we, despite the guise of -humanity, do reverence to the shrined seraph. This boy now became to me -an object of more intense interest. I felt assured, by the power of that -magnetic glance, that he was not unacquainted with the facts of Lindy's -flight.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p><p>"How far is it from here to the river?" he said, as if speaking with -himself, "nine miles—let me see—the Ohio once gained, and crossed, -they are comparatively safe."</p> - -<p>He started suddenly, as if he had been betrayed or beguiled of his -secret, and starting up quickly, walked away. I followed him to the -door, and watched his delicate form and golden head, until he -disappeared in a curve of the path which led to the spring. That was a -favorite walk with him. Early in the morning (for he rose before the -lark) and late in the twilight, alike in winter or summer, he pursued -his walk. Never once did I see him with a book in his hand. With his eye -upturned to the heavens or bent upon the earth, he seemed to be reading -Nature's page. He had made no great proficiency in book-knowledge; and, -indeed, as he subsequently told me, he had read nothing but the Bible. -The stories of the Old Testament he had committed to memory, and could -repeat with great accuracy. That of Joseph possessed a peculiar -fascination for him. As I closed the kitchen door and rejoined Aunt -Polly, she remarked,</p> - -<p>"Jist as I sed, Lindy is off, and we is left here to hab trouble; oh, -laws, look for sights now!"</p> - -<p>I made no reply, but silently set about assisting her in getting -breakfast. Shortly after old Nace came in, with a strange expression -lighting up his fiendish face.</p> - -<p>"Has you hearn de news?" And without waiting for a reply, he went on, -"Lindy is off fur Kanaday! ha, ha, ha!" and he broke out in a wild -laugh; "I guess dat dose 'ere hounds will scent her path sure enoff; I -looks out for fun in rale arnest. I jist hopes I'll be sint fur her, and -I'll scour dis airth but what I finds her."</p> - -<p>And thus he rambled on, in a diabolical way, neither of us heeding him. -He seemed to take no notice of our silence, being too deeply interested -in the subject of his thoughts.</p> - -<p>"I'd like to know at what hour she started off. Now, she was a smart one -to git off so slick, widout lettin' anybody know ob it. She had no close -worth takin' wid her, so she ken run<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> de faster. I wish Masser would git -wake, kase I wants to be de fust one to tell him ob it."</p> - -<p>Just then the two field-hands, Jake and Dan, came in.</p> - -<p>"Wal," cried the former, "dis am news indeed. Lindy's off fur sartin. -Now she tinks she is some, I reckon."</p> - -<p>"And why shouldn't she?" asked Dan, a big, burly negro, good-natured, -but very weak in mind; of a rather low and sensuous nature, yet of a -good and careless humor—the best worker upon the farm. I looked round -at him as he said this, for I thought there was reason as well as -feeling in the speech. Why shouldn't she be both proud and happy at the -success of her bold plan, if it gains her liberty and enables her to -reach that land where the law would recognize her as possessed of -rights? I could almost envy her such a lot.</p> - -<p>"I guess she'll find her Kanady down de river, by de time de dogs gits -arter her," said Nace, with another of his ha, ha's.</p> - -<p>"I wonder who Masser will send fur her? I bound, Nace, you'll be sent," -said Jake.</p> - -<p>"Yes, if dar is any fun, I is sure to be dar; but hurry up yer -hoe-cakes, old 'ooman, so dat de breakfust will be ober, and we can hab -an airly start."</p> - -<p>The latter part of this speech was addressed to Aunt Polly, who turned -round and brandished the poker toward him, saying,</p> - -<p>"Go 'bout yer business, Nace; kase you is got cause fur joy, it is not -wort my while to be glad. You is an old fool, dat nobody keres 'bout, no -how. I spects you would be glad to run off, too, if yer old legs was -young enuff fur to carry you."</p> - -<p>"Me, Poll, I wouldn't be free if I could, kase, you see, I has done -sarved my time at de 'post,' and now I is Masser's head-man, and I gits -none ob de beatings. It is fun fur me to see de oders."</p> - -<p>I turned my eyes upon him, and he looked so like a beast that I shut out -any feeling of resentment I might otherwise have entertained. Amy came -in, bearing little Ben in her arms, followed by her two sisters, Jinny -and Lucy.</p> - -<p>"La, Aunt Polly, is Lindy gone?" and her blank eyes opened to an unusual -width, as she half-asked, half-asserted this fact.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p><p>"Yes, but what's it to you, Amy?"</p> - -<p>"I jist hear 'em say so, as I was comin' along."</p> - -<p>"Whar she be gone to?" asked Lucy.</p> - -<p>"None ob yer bisness," replied Aunt Polly, with her usual gruffness.</p> - -<p>Strange it was, that, when she was alone with me, she appeared to wax -soft and gentle in her nature; but, when with others, she was "wolfish." -It seemed as if she had two natures. Now, with Nace, she was as vile and -almost as inhuman as he; but I, who knew her heart truly, felt that she -was doing herself injustice. I did not laugh or join in their talk, but -silently worked on.</p> - -<p>"Now, you see, Ann is one ob de proud sort, kase she ken read, and her -face is yaller; she tinks to hold herself 'bove us; but I 'members de -time when Masser buyed her at de sale. Lor' lub yer, but she did cry -when she lef her mammy; and de way old Kais flung herself on de ground, -ha! ha! it makes me laf now."</p> - -<p>I turned my eyes upon him, and, I fear, there was anything but a -Christian spirit beaming therefrom. He had touched a chord in my heart -which was sacred to memory, love, and silence. My mother! Could I bear -to have her name and her sorrow thus rudely spoken of? Oh, God, what -fierce and fiendish feelings did the recollection of her agony arouse? -With burning head and thorn-pierced heart, I turned back a blotted page -in life. Again, with horror stirring my blood, did I see her in that -sweat of mortal agony, and hear that shriek that rung from her soul! Oh, -God, these memories are a living torture to me, even now. But though -Nace had touched the tenderest, sorest part of my heart, I said nothing -to him. The strange workings of my countenance attracted Amy's -attention, and, coming up to me, with an innocent air, she asked:</p> - -<p>"What is the matter, Ann? Has anything happened to you?"</p> - -<p>These questions, put by a simple child, one, too, whose own young life -had been deeply acquainted with grief, were too much for my assumed -stolidity. Tears were the only reply I could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> make. The child regarded -me curiously, and the expression, "poor thing," burst from her lips. I -felt grateful for even her sympathy, and put my hand out to her.</p> - -<p>She grasped it, and, leaning close to me, said:</p> - -<p>"Don't cry, Ann; me is sorry fur you. Don't cry any more."</p> - -<p>Poor thing, she could feel sympathy; she, who was so loaded with -trouble, whose existence had none of the freshness and vernal beauty of -youth, but was seared and blighted like age, held in the depths of her -heart a pure drop of genuine sympathy, which she freely offered me. Oh, -did not my selfishness stand rebuked.</p> - -<p>Looking out of the window, far down the path that wound to the spring, I -descried the fair form of the young John, advancing toward the house. -Pale and pure, with his blue eyes pensively looking up to heaven, an air -of peaceful thought and subdued emotion was breathing from his very -form. When I looked at him, he suggested the idea of serenity. There was -that about him which, like the moonlight, inspired calm. He was walking -more rapidly than I had ever seen him; but the pallor of his cheek, and -the clear, cold blue of his heaven-lit eye, harmonized but poorly with -the jarring discords of life. I thought of the pure, passionless apostle -John, whom Christ so loved? And did I not dream that this youth, too, -had on earth a mission of love to perform? Was he not one of the sacred -chosen? He came walking slowly, as if he were communing with some -invisible presence.</p> - -<p>"Thar comes young Masser, and I is glad, kase he looks so good like. I -does lub him," said Amy.</p> - -<p>"Now, I is gwine fur to tell Masser, and he will gib you a beatin', -nigger-gal, for sayin' you lub a white gemman," replied the sardonic -Nace.</p> - -<p>"Oh, please don't tell on me. I did not mean any harm," and she burst -into tears, well-knowing that a severe whipping would be the reward of -her construed impertinence.</p> - -<p>Before I had time to offer her any consolation, the subject<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> of -conversation himself stood among us. With a low, tuneful voice, he spoke -to Amy, inquiring the cause of her tears.</p> - -<p>"Oh, young Masser, I did not mean any harm. Please don't hab me beat." -Little Ben joined in her tears, whilst the two girls clung fondly to her -dress.</p> - -<p>"Beaten for what?" asked young master, in a most encouraging manner.</p> - -<p>"She say she lub you—jist as if a black wench hab any right to lub a -beautiful white gemman," put in Nace.</p> - -<p>"I am glad she does, and wish that I could do something that would make -her love me more." And a <i>beatific</i> smile overspread his peaceful face. -"Come, poor Amy, let me see if I haven't some little present for you," -and he drew from his pocket a picayune, which he handed her. With a wild -and singular contortion of her body, she made an acknowledgment of -thanks, and kissing the hem of his robe, she darted off from the -kitchen, with little Ben in her arms.</p> - -<p>Without saying one word, young master walked away from the kitchen, but -not without first casting a sorrowful look upon Nace. Strange it seemed -to me, that this noble youth never administered a word of reproof to any -one. He conveyed all rebukes by means of looks. Upon me this would have -produced a greater impression, for those mild, reproachful eyes spoke -with a power which no language could equal; but on one of Nace's -obtuseness, it had no effect whatever.</p> - -<p>Shortly after, I left the kitchen, and went to the breakfast-room, -where, with the utmost expedition, I arranged the table, and then -repaired to the chamber of the young ladies. I found that they had -already risen from their bed. Miss Bradly (who had spent the night with -them) was standing at the mirror, braiding her long hair. Miss Jane was -seated in a large chair, with an elegant dressing-wrapper, waiting for -me to comb her "auburn hair," as she termed it. Miss Tildy, in a lazy -attitude, was talking about the events of the previous evening.</p> - -<p>"Now, Miss Emily, I do think him very handsome; but I cannot forgive his -gross Abolition sentiments."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p><p>"How horribly vulgar and low he is in his notions," said Miss Jane.</p> - -<p>"Oh, but, girls, he was reared in the North, with those fanatical -Abolitionists, and we can scarcely blame him."</p> - -<p>"What a horrible set of men those Abolitionists must be. They have no -sense," said Miss Jane, with quite a Minerva air.</p> - -<p>"Oh, sense they assuredly have, but judgment they lack. They are a set -of brain-sick dreamers, filled with Utopian schemes. They know nothing -of Slavery as it exists at the South; and the word, which, I confess, -has no very pleasant sound, has terrified them." This remark was made by -Miss Bradly, and so astonished me that I fixed my eyes upon her, and, -with one look, strove to express the concentrated contempt and -bitterness of my nature. This look she did not seem to heed. With -strange feelings of distrust in the integrity of human nature, I went on -about my work, which was to arrange and deck Miss Jane's hair, but I -would have given worlds not to have felt toward Miss Bradly as I did. I -remembered with what a different spirit she had spoken to me of those -Abolitionists, whom she now contemned so much, and referred to as vain -dreamers. Where was the exalted philanthropy that I had thought dwelt in -her soul? Was she not, now, the weakest and most sordid of mortals? -Where was that far and heaven-reaching love, that had seemed to encircle -her as a living, burning zone? Gone! dissipated, like a golden mist! and -now, before my sight she stood, poor and a beggar, upon the great -highway of life.</p> - -<p>"I can tell you," said Miss Tildy, "I read the other day in a newspaper -that the reason these northern men are so strongly in favor of the -abolition of slavery is, that they entertain a prejudice against the -South, and that all this political warfare originated in the base -feeling of envy."</p> - -<p>"And that is true," put in Miss Jane; "they know that cotton, rice and -sugar are the great staples of the South, and where can you find any -laborers but negroes to produce them?"</p> - -<p>"Could not the poor class of whites go there and work for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> wages?" -pertinently asked Miss Tildy, who had a good deal of the spirit of -altercation in her.</p> - -<p>"No, of course not; because they are free and could not be made to work -at all times. They would consent to be employed only at certain periods. -They would not work when they were in the least sick, and they would, -because of their liberty, claim certain hours as their own; whereas the -slave has no right to interpose any word against the overseer's order. -Sick or well, he <i>must</i> work at busy seasons of the year. The whip has a -terribly sanitary power, and has been proven to be a more efficient -remedy than rhubarb or senna." After delivering herself of this -wonderful argument, Miss Jane seemed to experience great relief. Miss -Bradly turned from the mirror, and, smiling sycophantically upon her, -said: "Why, my dear, how well you argue! You are a very Cicero in -debate."</p> - -<p>That was enough. This compliment took ready root in the shallow mind of -the receiver, and her love for Miss B. became greater than ever.</p> - -<p>"But I do think him so handsome," broke from Miss Tildy's lips, in a -half audible voice.</p> - -<p>"Whom?" asked Miss Bradly.</p> - -<p>"Why, the stranger of last evening; the fair-browed Robert Worth."</p> - -<p>"Handsome, indeed, is he!" was the reply.</p> - -<p>"I hope, Matilda Peterkin, you would not be so disloyal to the South, -and to the very honorable institution under which your father -accumulated his wealth, as to even admire a low-flung northern -Abolitionist;" and Miss Jane reddened with all a Southron's ire.</p> - -<p>Miss Bradly was about to speak, but to what purpose the world to this -day remains ignorant, for oath after oath, and blasphemy by the volley, -so horrible that I will spare myself and the reader the repetition, -proceeded from the room of Mr. Peterkin.</p> - -<p>The ladies sprang to their feet, and, in terror, rushed from the -apartment.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2> - -<p class="center">MR. PETERKIN'S RAGE—ITS ESCAPE—CHAT AT THE BREAKFAST TABLE—CHANGE OF -VIEWS—POWER OF THE FLESH POTS.</p> - -<p>It was as I had expected; the news of Lindy's flight had been -communicated by Nace to Mr. Peterkin, and his rage knew no limits. It -was dangerous to go near him. Raving like a madman, he tore the covering -of the bed to shreds, brandished his cowhide in every direction, took -down his gun, and swore he would "shoot every d——d nigger on the -place." His daughters had no influence over him. Out of bed he would -get, declaring that "all this devilment" would not have been perpetrated -if he had not been detained there by the order of that d——d doctor, -who had no reason for keeping him there but a desire to get his money. -Fearing that his hyena rage might vent some of its gall on them, the -ladies made no further opposition to his intention.</p> - -<p>Standing just without the door, I heard Miss Jane ask him if he would -not first take some breakfast.</p> - -<p>"No; cuss your breakfast. I want none of it; I want to be among them ar' -niggers, and give 'em a taste of this cowhide, that they have been -sufferin' fur."</p> - -<p>In affright I fled to the kitchen, and told Aunt Polly that the storm -had at length broken in all its fury. Each one of the negroes eyed the -others in silent dismay.</p> - -<p>Pale with rage and debility, hot fury flashing from his eye, and white -froth gathering upon his lips, Mr. Peterkin dashed into the kitchen. "In -the name of h—ll and its fires, niggers, what does this mean? Tell me -whar that d——d gal is, or I'll cut every mother's child of you to -death."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p><p>Not one spoke. Lash after lash he dealt in every direction.</p> - -<p>"Speak, h—ll hounds, or I'll throttle you!" he cried, as he caught Jake -and Dan by the throat, with each hand, and half strangled them. With -their eyes rolling, and their tongues hanging from their mouths, they -had not power to answer. As soon as he loosened his grasp, and their -voices were sufficiently their own to speak, they attempted a denial; -but a blow from each of Mr. Peterkin's fists levelled them to the floor. -In this dreadful state, and with a hope of getting a moment's respite, -Jake (poor fellow, I forgive him for it) pointed to me, saying:</p> - -<p>"She knows all 'bout it."</p> - -<p>This had the desired effect; finding one upon whom he could vent his -whole wrath, Peterkin rushed up to me, and Oh, such a blow as descended -upon my head! Fifty stars blazed around me. My brain burned and ached; a -choking rush of tears filled my eyes and throat. "Mercy! mercy!" broke -from my agonized lips; but, alas! I besought it from a tribunal where it -was not to be found. Blow after blow he dealt me. I strove not to parry -them, but stood and received them, as, right and left, they fell like a -hail-storm. Tears and blood bathed my face and blinded my sight. "You -cussed fool, I'll make you rue the day you was born, if you hide from me -what you knows 'bout it."</p> - -<p>I asseverated, in the most solemn way, that I knew nothing of Lindy's -flight.</p> - -<p>"You are a liar," he cried out, and enforced his words with another -blow.</p> - -<p>"She is not," cried Aunt Polly, whose forbearance had now given out. -This unexpected boldness in one of the most humble and timid of his -slaves, enraged him still farther, and he dealt her such a blow that my -heart aches even now, as I think of it.</p> - -<p>A summons from one of the ladies recalled him to the house. Before -leaving he pronounced a desperate threat against us, which amounted to -this—that we should all be tied to the "post," and beaten until -confession was wrung from us, and then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> taken to L——, and sold to a -trader, for the southern market. But I did not share, with the others, -that wondrous dread of the fabled horror of "down the river." I did not -believe that anywhere slavery existed in a more brutal and cruel form -than in the section of Kentucky where I lived. Solitary instances of -kind and indulgent masters there were; but they were the few exceptions -to the almost universal rule.</p> - -<p>Now, when Mr. Peterkin withdrew, I, forgetful of my own wounds, lifted -Aunt Polly in my arms, and bore her, half senseless, to the cabin, and -laid her upon her ragged bed. "Great God!" I exclaimed, as I bent above -her, "can this thing last long? How much longer will thy divine patience -endure? How much longer must we bear this scourge, this crown of thorns, -this sweat of blood? Where and with what Calvary shall this martyrdom -terminate? Oh, give me patience, give me fortitude to bow to Thy will! -Sustain me, Jesus, Thou who dost know, hast tasted of humanity's -bitterest cup, give me grace to bear yet a little longer!"</p> - -<p>With this prayer upon my lips I rose from the bedside where I had been -kneeling, and, taking Aunt Polly's horny hands within my own, I -commenced chafing them tenderly. I bathed her temples with cold water. -She opened her eyes languidly, looked round the room slowly, and then -fixed them upon me, with a bewildered expression. I spoke to her in a -gentle tone; she pushed me some distance from her, eyed me with a vacant -glance, then, shaking her head, turned over on her side and closed her -eyes. Believing that she was stunned and faint from the blow she had -received, I thought it best that she should sleep awhile. Gently -spreading the coverlet over her, I returned to the kitchen, where the -affrighted group of negroes yet remained. Stricken by a panic they had -not power of volition.</p> - -<p>Casting one look of reproach upon Jake, I turned away, intending to go -and see if the ladies required my attention in the breakfast-room; but -in the entry, which separated the house from the kitchen, I encountered -Amy, with little Ben seated upon her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> hip. This is the usual mode with -nurses in Kentucky of carrying children. I have seen girls actually -deformed from the practice. An enlargement of the right hip is caused by -it, and Amy was an example of this. Had I been in a different mood, her -position and appearance would have provoked laughter. There she stood, -with her broad eyes wide open, and glaring upon me; her unwashed face -and uncombed hair were adorned by the odd ends of broken straws and bits -of hay that clung to the naps of wool; her mouth was opened to its -utmost capacity; her very ears were erect with curiosity; and her form -bent eagerly forward, whilst little Ben was coiled up on her hip, with -his sharp eyes peering like those of a mouse over her shoulder.</p> - -<p>"Ann," she cried out, "tell me what's de matter? What's Masser goin' to -do wid us all?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know, Amy," I answered in a faltering tone, for I feared much -for her.</p> - -<p>"I hopes de child'en will go 'long wid me, an' I'd likes for you to go -too, Ann."</p> - -<p>I did not trust myself to reply; but, passing hastily on, entered the -breakfast-room, where Jane, Tildy, and Miss Bradly were seated at the -table, with their breakfast scarcely tasted. They were bending over -their plates in an intensity of interest which made them forget -everything, save their subject of conversation.</p> - -<p>"How she could have gotten off without creating any alarm, is to me a -mystery," said Miss Jane, as she toyed with her spoon and cup.</p> - -<p>"Well, old Nick is in them. Negroes, I believe, are possessed by some -demon. They have the witch's power of slipping through an auger-hole," -said Miss Tildy.</p> - -<p>"They are singular creatures," replied Miss Bradly; "and I fear a great -deal of useless sympathy is expended upon them."</p> - -<p>"You may depend there is," said Miss Jane. "I only wish these Northern -abolitionists had our servants to deal with. I think it would drive the -philanthropy out of them."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p><p>"Indeed would it," answered Miss Bradly, as she took a warm roll, and -busied herself spreading butter thereon; "they have no idea of the -trials attending the duty of a master; the patience required in the -management of so many different dispositions. I think a residence in the -South or South-west would soon change their notions. The fact is, I -think those fanatical abolitionists agitate the question only for -political purposes. Now, it is a clearly-ascertained thing, that slavery -would be prejudicial to the advancement of Northern enterprise. The -negro is an exotic from a tropical region, hence lives longer, and is -capable of more work in a warm climate. They have no need of black labor -at the North; and thus, I think, the whole affair resolves itself into a -matter of sectional gain and interest."</p> - -<p>Here she helped herself to the wing of a fried chicken. It seemed that -the argument had considerably whetted her appetite. Astonishing, is it -not, how the loaves and fishes of this goodly life will change and sway -our opinions? Even sober-minded, educated people, cannot repress their -pinings after the flesh-pots of Egypt.</p> - -<p>Miss Jane seemed delighted to find that her good friend and instructress -held the Abolition party in such contempt. Just then young master -entered. With quiet, saintly manner, taking his seat at the table, he -said,</p> - -<p>"Is not the abolition power strong at the North, Miss Emily?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, no, Johnny, 'tis comparatively small; confined, I assure you, to a -few fanatical spirits. The merchants of New York, Boston, and the other -Northern cities, carry on a too extensive commerce with the South to -adopt such dangerous sentiments. There is a comity of men as well as -States; and the clever rule of 'let alone' is pretty well observed."</p> - -<p>Young master made no reply in words, but fixed his large, mysterious -eyes steadfastly upon her. Was it mournfulness that streamed, with a -purple light, from them, or was it a sublimated contempt? He said -nothing, but quietly ate his breakfast. His fare was as homely as that -of an ascetic; he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> never used meat, and always took bread without -butter. A simple crust and glass of milk, three times a day, was his -diet. Miss Jane gave him a careless and indifferent glance, then -proceeded with the conversation, totally unconscious of his presence; -but again and again he cast furtive, anxious glances toward her, and I -thought I noticed him sighing.</p> - -<p>"What will father do with Lindy, if she should be caught?" asked Miss -Tildy.</p> - -<p>"Send her down the river, of course," was Miss Jane's response.</p> - -<p>"She deserves it," said Miss Tildy.</p> - -<p>"Does she?" asked the deep, earnest voice of young master.</p> - -<p>Was it because he was unused to asking questions, or was there something -in the strange earnestness of his tone, that made those three ladies -start so suddenly, and regard him with such an astonished air? Yet none -of them replied, and thus for a few moments conversation ceased, until -he rose from the table and left the room.</p> - -<p>"He is a strange youth," said Miss Bradly, "and how wondrously handsome! -He always suggests romantic notions."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but I think him very stupid. He never talks to any of us—is -always alone, seeks old and unfrequented spots; neither in the winter -nor summer will he remain within doors. Something seems to lure him to -the wood, even when despoiled of its foliage. He must be slightly -crazed—ma's health was feeble for some time previous to his birth, -which the doctors say has injured his constitution, and I should not be -surprised if his intellect had likewise suffered." This speech was -pronounced by Miss Tildy in quite an oracular tone.</p> - -<p>Miss Bradly made no answer, and I marvelled not at her changing color. -Had she not power to read, in that noble youth's voice and manner, the -high enduring truth and singleness of purpose that dwelt in his nature? -Though he had never spoken one word in relation to slavery, I knew that -all his instincts were against it; and that opposition to it was the -principle deeply ingrained in his heart.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> - -<p class="center">RECOLLECTIONS—CONSOLING INFLUENCE OF SYMPATHY—AMY'S DOCTRINE OF THE -SOUL—TALK AT THE SPRING.</p> - -<p>As Mr. Peterkin was passing through the vestibule of the front door, he -met young master standing there. Now, this was Mr. Peterkin's favorite -child, for, though he did not altogether like that quietude of manner, -which he called "poke-easy," the boy had never offered him any affront -about his incorrect language, or treated him with indignity in any way. -And then he was so beautiful! True, his father could not appreciate the -spiritual nobility of his face; yet the symmetry of his features and the -spotless purity of his complexion, answered even to Mr. Peterkin's idea -of beauty. The coarsest and most vulgar soul is keenly alive to the -beauty of the rose and lily; though that concealed loveliness, which is -only hinted at by the rare fragrance, may be known only to the -cultivated and poetic heart. Often I have heard him say, "John is pretty -enoff to be a gal."</p> - -<p>Now as he met him in the vestibule, he said, "John, I'm in a peck o' -trouble."</p> - -<p>"I am sorry you are in trouble father."</p> - -<p>"That cussed black wench, Lindy, is off, and I'm 'fraid the neighborhood -kant be waked up soon enough to go arter and ketch her. Let me git her -once more in my clutches, and I'll make her pay for it. I'll give her -one good bastin' that she'll 'member, and then I'll send her down the -river fur enough."</p> - -<p>The boy made no reply; but, with his eyes cast down on the earth, he -seemed to be unconscious of all that was going on around him. When he -raised his head his eyes were burning, his breath came thick and short, -and a deep scarlet spot shone<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> on the whiteness of his cheek; the veins -in his forehead lay like heavy cords, and his very hair seemed to -sparkle. He looked as one inspired. This was unobserved by his parent, -who hastily strode away to find more willing listeners. I tarried in a -place where, unnoticed by others, I commanded a good out-look. I saw -young master clasp his hands fervently, and heard him passionately -exclaim—"How much longer, oh, how much longer shall this be?" Then -slowly walking down his favorite path, he was lost to my vision. -"Blessed youth, heaven-missioned, if thou wouldst only speak to me! One -word of consolation from God-anointed lips like thine, would soothe even -the sting of bondage; but no," I added, "that earnest look, that gentle -tone, tell perhaps as much as it is necessary for me to know. This -silence proceeds from some noble motive. Soon enough he will make -himself known to us."</p> - -<p>In a little while the news of Lindy's departure had spread through the -neighborhood like a flame. Our yard and house were filled with men come -to offer their services to their neighbor, who, from his wealth, was -considered a sort of magnate among them.</p> - -<p>Pretty soon they were mounted on horses, and armed to the teeth, each -one with a horn fastened to his belt, galloping off in quest of the poor -fugitive. And is this thing done beneath the influence of civilized -laws, and by men calling themselves Christians? What has armed those -twelve men with pistols, and sent them on an excursion like this? Is it -to redeem a brother from a band of lawless robbers, who hold him in -captivity? Is it to right some individual wrong? Is it to take part with -the weak and oppressed against the strong and the overbearing? No, no, -my friends, on no such noble mission as this have they gone. No purpose -of high emprise has made them buckle on the sword and prime the pistol. -A poor, lone female, who, through years, has been beaten, tyrannized -over, and abused, has ventured out to seek what this constitution -professes to secure to every one—liberty. Barefoot and alone, she has -gone forth;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> and 'tis to bring her back to a vile and brutal slavery -that these men have sallied out, regardless of her sex, her destitution, -and her misery. They have set out either to recapture her or to shoot -her down in her tracks like a dog. And this is a system which Christian -men speak of as heaven-ordained! This is a thing countenanced by -freemen, whose highest national boast is, that theirs is the land of -liberty, equality, and free-rights! These are the people who yearly send -large sums to Ireland; who pray for the liberation of Hungary; who wish -to transmit armed forces across the Atlantic to aid vassal States in -securing their liberty! These are they who talk so largely of Cuba, -expend so much sympathy upon the oppressed of other lands, and predict -the downfall of England for her oppressive form of government! Oh, -America! "first pluck the beam out of thine own eye, then shalt thou see -more clearly the mote that is in thy brother's."</p> - -<p>When I watched those armed men ride away, in such high courage and -eagerness for the hunt, I thought of Lindy, poor, lone girl, fatigued, -worn and jaded, suffering from thirst and hunger; her feet torn and -bruised with toil, hiding away in bogs and marshes, with an ear -painfully acute to every sound. I thought of this, and all the -resentment I had ever felt toward her faded away as a vapor.</p> - -<p>All that day the house was in a state of intense excitement. The -servants could not work with their usual assiduity. Indeed, such was the -excitement, even of the white family, that we were not strictly required -to labor.</p> - -<p>Miss Jane gave me some fancy-sewing to do for her. Taking it with me to -Aunt Polly's cabin, intending to talk with her whilst time was allowed -me, I was surprised and pleased to find the old woman still asleep. "It -will do her good," I thought, "she needs rest, poor creature! And that -blow was given to her on my account! How much I would rather have -received it myself." I then examined her head, and was glad to find no -mark or bruise; so I hoped that with a good sleep she would wake up -quite well. I seated myself on an old stool,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> near the door, which, -notwithstanding the rawness of the day, I was obliged to leave open to -admit light. It was a cool, windy morning, such as makes a woollen shawl -necessary. My young mistresses had betaken themselves to cashmere -wrappers and capes; but I still wore my thin and "seedy" calico. As I -sewed on, upon Miss Jane's embroidery, many <i>fancies</i> came in troops -through my brain, defiling like a band of ghosts through each private -gallery and hidden nook of memory, and even to the very inmost -compartment of secret thought! My mother, with her sad, sorrow-stricken -face, my old companions and playfellows in the long-gone years, all -arose with vividness to my eye! Where were they all? Where had they been -during the lapse of years? Of my mother I had never heard a word. Was -she dead? At that suggestion I started, and felt my heart grow chill, as -though an icy hand had clenched it; yet why felt I so? Did I not know -that the grave would be to her as a bed of ease? What torture could -await her beyond the pass of the valley of shadows? She, who had been -faithful over a little, would certainly share in those blessed rewards -promised by Christ; yet it seemed to me that my heart yearned to look -upon her again in this life. I could not, without pain, think of her as -<i>one who had been</i>. There was something selfish in this, yet was it -intensely human, and to feel otherwise I should have had to be less -loving, less filial in my nature. "Oh, mother!" I said, "if ever we meet -again, will it be a meeting that shall know no separation? Mother, are -you changed? Have you, by the white man's coarse brutality, learned to -forget your absent child? Do not thoughts of her often come to your -lonely soul with the sighing of the midnight wind? Do not the high and -merciful stars, that nightly burn above you, recall me to your heart? -Does not the child-loved moon speak to you of times when, as a little -thing, I nestled close to your bosom? Or, mother, have other ties grown -around your heart? Have other children supplanted your eldest-born? Do -chirruping lips and bright eyes claim all your thoughts? Or do you toil -alone, broken in soul and bent in body, beneath the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> drudgery of human -labor, without one soft voice to lull you to repose? Oh, not this, not -this, kind Heaven! Let her forget me, in her joy; give her but peace, -and on me multiply misfortunes, rain down evils, only spare, shield and -protect <i>her</i>." This tide of thought, as it rolled rapidly through my -mind, sent the hot tears, in gushes, from my eyes. As I bent my head to -wipe them away, without exactly seeing it, I became aware of a blessed -presence; and, lifting my moist eyes, I beheld young master standing -before me, with that calm, spiritual glance which had so often charmed -and soothed me.</p> - -<p>"What is the matter, Ann? Why are you weeping?" he asked me in a gentle -voice.</p> - -<p>"Nothing, young Master, only I was thinking of my mother."</p> - -<p>"How long since you saw her?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, years, young Master; I have not seen her since my childhood—not -since Master bought me."</p> - -<p>He heaved a deep sigh, but said nothing; those eyes, with a soft, -shadowed light, as though they were shining through misty tears, were -bent upon me.</p> - -<p>"Where is your mother now, Ann?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know, young Master, I've never heard from her since I came -here."</p> - -<p>Again he sighed, and now he passed his thin white hand across his eyes, -as if to dissipate the mist.</p> - -<p>"You think she was sold when you were, don't you?"</p> - -<p>"I expect she was. I'm almost sure she was, for I don't think either my -young Masters or Mistresses wished or expected to retain the servants."</p> - -<p>"I wish I could find out something about her for you; but, at present, -it is out of my power. You must do the best you can. You are a good -girl, Ann; I have noticed how patiently you bear hard trouble. Do you -pray?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, young Master, and that is all the pleasure I have. What would -be my situation without prayer? Thanks to God, the slave has this -privilege!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, Ann, and in God's eyes you are equal to a white <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>person. He makes -no distinction; your soul is as precious and dear to Him as is that of -the fine lady clad in silk and gems."</p> - -<p>I opened my eyes to gaze upon him, as he stood there, with his beautiful -face beaming with good feeling and love for the humblest and lowest of -God's creatures. This was religion! This was the spirit which Christ -commended. This was the love which He daily preached and practiced.</p> - -<p>"But how is Aunt Polly? I heard that she was suffering much."</p> - -<p>"She is sleeping easily now," I replied.</p> - -<p>"Well, then, don't disturb her. It is better that she should sleep;" and -he walked away, leaving me more peaceful and happy than before. Blessed -youth!—why have we not more such among us! They would render the thongs -and fetters of slavery less galling.</p> - -<p>The day was unusually quiet; but the frostiness of the atmosphere kept -the ladies pretty close within doors; and Mr. Peterkin had, contrary to -the wishes of his family, and the injunctions of his physician, gone out -with the others upon the search; besides, he had taken Nace and the -other men with him, and, as Aunt Polly was sick, Ginsy had been -appointed in her place to prepare dinner. After sewing very diligently -for some time, I wandered out through the poultry lot, lost in a -labyrinth of strange reflection. As I neared the path leading down -toward the spring, young master's favorite walk, I could not resist the -temptation to follow it to its delightful terminus, where he was wont to -linger all the sunny summer day, and frequently passed many hours in the -winter time? I was superstitious enough to think that some of his deep -and rich philanthropy had been caught, as by inspiration, from this -lovely natural retreat; for how could the child of such a low, beastly -parent, inherit a disposition so heavenly, and a soul so spotless? He -had been bred amid scenes of the most revolting cruelty; had lived with -people of the harshest and most brutal dispositions; yet had he -contracted from them no moral stain. Were they not hideous to look upon, -and was he not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> lovely as a seraph? Were they not low and vulgar, and he -lofty and celestial-minded? Why and how was this? Ah, did I not believe -him to be one of God's blessed angels, lent us for a brief season?</p> - -<p>The path was well-trodden, and wound and curved through the woods, down -to a clear, natural spring of water. There had been made, by the order -of young master, a turfetted seat, overgrown by soft velvet moss, and -here this youth would sit for hours to ponder, and, perhaps, to weave -golden fancies which were destined to ripen into rich fruition in that -land beyond the shores of time. As I drew near the spring, I imagined -that a calm and holy influence was settling over me. The spirit of the -place had power upon me, and I yielded myself to the spell. It was no -disease of fancy, or dream of enchantment, that thus possessed me; for -there, half-reclining on the mossy bench, I beheld young master, and, -seated at his feet, with her little, odd, wondering face uplifted to -his, was Amy; and, crawling along, playing with the moss, and looking -down into the mirror of the spring, peered the bright eyes of little -Ben. It was a scene of such beauty that I paused to take a full view of -it, before making my presence known. Young master, with his pale, -intellectual face, his classic head, his sun-bright curls, and his -earnest blue eyes, sat in a half-lounging attitude, making no -inappropriate picture of an angel of light, whilst the two little black -faces seemed emblems of fallen, degraded humanity, listening to his -pleading voice.</p> - -<p>"Wherever you go, or in whatever condition you may be, Amy, never forget -to pray to the good Lord." As he said this, he bent his eyes -compassionately on her.</p> - -<p>"Oh, laws, Masser, how ken I pray! de good Lord wouldn't hear me. I is -too black and dirty."</p> - -<p>"God does not care for that. You are as dear to Him as the finest lady -of the land."</p> - -<p>"Oh, now, Masser, you doesn't tink me is equal to you, a fine, nice, -pretty white gemman—dress so fine."</p> - -<p>"God cares not, my child, for clothes, or the color of the skin.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> He -values the heart alone; and if your heart is clear, it matters not -whether your face be black or your clothes mean."</p> - -<p>"Laws, now, young Masser," and the child laughed heartily at the idea, -"you doesn't 'spect a nigger's heart am clean. I tells you 'tis black -and dirty as dere faces."</p> - -<p>"My poor child, I would that I had power to scatter the gloomy mist that -beclouds your mind, and let you see and know that our dying Saviour -embraced all your unfortunate race in the merits of his divine -atonement."</p> - -<p>This speech was not comprehended by Amy. She sat looking vacantly at -him; marvelling all the while at his pretty talk, yet never once -believing that Jesus prized a negro's soul. Young master's eyes were, as -usual, elevated to the clear, majestic heavens. Not a cloud floated in -the still, serene expanse, and the air was chill. One moment longer I -waited, before revealing myself. Stepping forward, I addressed young -master in an humble tone.</p> - -<p>"Well, Ann, what do you want?" This was not said in a petulant voice, -but with so much gentleness that it invited the burdened heart to make -its fearful disclosure.</p> - -<p>"Oh, young Master, I know that you will pardon me for what I am going to -ask. I cannot longer restrain myself. Tell me what is to become of us? -When shall we be sold? Into whose hands shall I fall?"</p> - -<p>"Alas, poor Ann, I am as ignorant of father's intentions as you are. I -would that I could relieve your anxiety, but I am as uneasy about it as -you or any one can be. Oh, I am powerless to do anything to better your -unfortunate condition. I am weak as the weakest of you."</p> - -<p>"I know, young Master, that we have your kindest sympathy, and this -knowledge softens my trouble."</p> - -<p>He did not reply, but sat with a perplexed expression, looking on the -ground.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Ann, you has done gin young Masser some trouble. What fur you do -dat? We niggers ain't no 'count any how,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> and you hab no sort ob -bisiness be troublin' young Masser 'bout it," said Amy.</p> - -<p>"Be still, Amy, let Ann speak her troubles freely. It will relieve her -mind. You may tell me of yours too."</p> - -<p>Sitting down upon the sward, close to his feet, I relieved my oppressed -bosom by a copious flood of tears. Still he spoke not, but sat silent, -looking down. Amy was awed into stillness, and even little Ben became -calm and quiet as a lamb. No one broke the spell. No one seemed anxious -to do so. There are some feelings for which silence is the best -expression.</p> - -<p>At length he said mildly, "Now, my good friends, it might be made the -subject of ungenerous remarks, if you were to be seen talking with me -long. You had better return to the house."</p> - -<p>As Amy and I, with little Ben, rose to depart, he looked after us, and -sighing, exclaimed, "poor creatures, my heart bleeds for you!"</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> - -<p class="center">THE PRATTLINGS OF INSANITY—OLD WOUNDS REOPEN—THE WALK TO THE -DOCTOR'S—INFLUENCE OF NATURE.</p> - -<p>Upon my return to the house I hastened on to the cabin, hoping to find -Aunt Polly almost entirely recovered. Passing hastily through the yard I -entered the cabin with a light step, and to my surprise found her -sitting up in a chair, playing with some old faded artificial flowers, -the dilapidated decorations of Miss Tildy's summer bonnet, which had -been swept from the house with the litter on the day before. I had never -seen her engaged in a pastime so childish and sportive, and was not a -little astonished, for her aversion to flowers had often been to me the -subject of remark.</p> - -<p>"What have you there that is pretty, Aunt Polly?" I asked with -tenderness.</p> - -<p>With a wondering, childish smile, she held the crushed blossoms up, and -turning them over and over in her hands, said:</p> - -<p>"Putty things! ye is berry putty!" then pressing them to her bosom, she -stroked the leaves as kindly as though she had been smoothing the truant -locks of a well-beloved child. I could not understand this freak, for -she was one to whose uncultured soul all sweet and pretty fancies seemed -alien. Looking up to me with that vacant glance which at once explained -all, she said:</p> - -<p>"Who's dar? Who is you? Oh, dat is my darter," and addressing me by the -remembered name of her own long-lost child, she traversed, in thought, -the whole waste-field of memory. Not a single wild-flower in the wayside -of the heart was neglected or forgotten. She spoke of times when she had -toyed and dandled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> her infant darling upon her knee; then, shudderingly, -she would wave me off, with terror written all over her furrowed face, -and cry, "Get you away, Masser is comin': thar, thar he is; see him wid -de ropes; he is comin' to tar you 'way frum me. Here, here child, git -under de bed, hide frum 'em, dey is all gwine to take you 'way—'way -down de river, whar you'll never more see yer poor old mammy." Then -sinking upon her knees, with her hands outstretched, and her eyes -eagerly strained forward, and bent on vacancy, she frantically cried:</p> - -<p>"Masser, please, please Masser, don't take my poor chile from me. It's -all I is got on dis ar' airth; Masser, jist let me hab it and I'll work -fur you, I'll sarve you all de days ob my life. You may beat my ole back -as much as you please; you may make me work all de day and all de night, -jist, so I ken keep my chile. Oh, God, oh, God! see, dere dey goes, wid -my poor chile screaming and crying for its mammy! See, see it holds its -arms to me! Oh, dat big hard man struck it sich a blow. Now, now dey is -out ob sight." And crawling on her knees, with arms outspread, she -seemed to be following some imaginary object, until, reaching the door, -I feared in her transport of agony she would do herself some injury, -and, catching her strongly in my arms, I attempted to hold her back; but -she was endowed with a superhuman strength, and pushed me violently -against the wall.</p> - -<p>"Thar, you wretch, you miserble wretch, dat would keep me from my chile, -take dat blow, and I wish it would send yer to yer grave."</p> - -<p>Recoiling a few steps, I looked at her. A wild and lurid light gathered -in her eye, and a fiendish expression played over her face. She clenched -her hands, and pressed her old broken teeth hard upon her lips, until -the blood gushed from them; frothing at the mouth, and wild with -excitement, she made an attempt to bound forward and fell upon the -floor. I screamed for help, and sprang to lift her up. Blood oozed from -her mouth and nose; her eyes rolled languidly, and her under-jaw fell as -though it were broken.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p><p>In terror I bore her to the bed, and, laying her down, I went to get a -bowl of water to wash the blood and foam from her face. Meeting Amy at -the door, I told her Aunt Polly was very sick, and requested her to -remain there until my return.</p> - -<p>I fled to the kitchen, and seizing a pan of water that stood upon the -shelf, returned to the cabin. There I found young master bending over -Aunt Polly, and wiping the blood-stains from her mouth and nose with his -own handkerchief. This was, indeed, the ministration of the high to the -lowly. This generous boy never remembered the distinctions of color, but -with that true spirit of human brotherhood which Christ inculcated by -many memorable examples, he ministered to the humble, the lowly, and the -despised. Indeed, such seemed to take a firmer hold upon his heart. -Here, in this lowly cabin, like the good Samaritan of old, he paused to -bind up the wounds of a poor outcast upon the dreary wayside of -existence.</p> - -<p>Bending tenderly over Aunt Polly, until his luxuriant golden curls swept -her withered face, he pressed his linen handkerchief to her mouth and -nose to staunch the rapid flow of blood.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Ann, have you come with the water? I fear she is almost gone; throw -it in her face with a slight force, it may revive her," he said in a -calm tone.</p> - -<p>I obeyed, but there was no sign of consciousness. After one or two -repetitions she moved a little, young master drew a bottle of sal -volatile from his pocket, and applied it to her nose. The effect was -sudden; she started up spasmodically, and looking round the room laughed -wildly, frightfully; then, shaking her head, her face resumed its look -of pitiful imbecility.</p> - -<p>"The light is quenched, and forever," said young master, and the tears -came to his eyes and rolled slowly down his cheeks. Amy, with Ben in her -arms, stood by in anxious wonder; creeping up to young master's side, -she looked earnestly in his face, saying—</p> - -<p>"Don't cry, Masser, Aunt Polly will soon be well; she jist sick for -little while. De lick Masser gib her only hurt her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> little time,—she -'most well now, but her does look mighty wild."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Lord, how much longer must these poor people be tried in the -furnace of affliction? How much longer wilt thou permit a suffering race -to endure this harsh warfare? Oh, Divine Father, look pityingly down on -this thy humble servant, who is so sorely tried." The latter part of the -speech was uttered as he sank upon his knees; and down there upon the -coarse puncheon floor we all knelt, young master forming the central -figure of the group, whilst little Amy, the baby-boy Ben, and the poor -lunatic, as if in mimicry, joined us. We surrounded him, and surely that -beautiful heart-prayer must have reached the ear of God. When such -purity asks for grace and mercy upon the poor and unfortunate, the ear -of Divine grace listens.</p> - -<p>"What fur you pray?" asked the poor lunatic.</p> - -<p>"I ask mercy for sore souls like thine."</p> - -<p>"Oh, dat is funny; but say, sir, whar is my chile? Whar is she? Why -don't she come to me? She war here a minnit ago; but now she does be -gone away."</p> - -<p>"Oh, what a mystery is the human frame! Lyre of the spirit, how soon is -thy music jarred into discord." Young master uttered this rhapsody in a -manner scarcely audible, but to my ear no sound of his was lost, not a -word, syllable, or tone!</p> - -<p>"Poor Luce—is dat Luce?" and the poor, crazed creature stared at me -with a bewildered gaze! "and my baby-boy, whar is he, and my oldest -sons? Dey is all gone from me and forever." She began to weep piteously.</p> - -<p>"Watch with her kindly till I send Jake for the doctor," he said to me; -then rallying himself, he added, "but they are all gone—gone upon that -accursed hunt;" and, seating himself in a chair, he pressed his fingers -hard upon his closed eye-lids. "Stay, I will go myself for the -doctor—she must not be neglected."</p> - -<p>And rising from his chair he buttoned his coat, and, charging me to take -good care of her, was about starting, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> Aunt Polly sprang forward and -caught him by the arms, exclaiming,</p> - -<p>"Oh, putty, far angel, don't leab me. I kan't let you leab me—stay -here. I has no peace when you is gone. Dey will come and beat me agin, -and dey will take my chil'en frum me. Oh, please now, you stay wid me."</p> - -<p>And she held on to him with such a pitiful fondness, and there was so -much anxiety in her face, such an infantile look of tenderness, with the -hopeless vacancy of idiocy in the eye, that to refuse her would have -been harsh; and of this young master was incapable. So, turning to me, -he said,</p> - -<p>"You go, Ann, for the doctor, and I will stay with her—poor old -creature I have never done anything for her, and now I will gratify -her."</p> - -<p>As the horses had all been taken by the pursuers of Lindy, I was forced -to walk to Dr. Mandy's farm, which was about two miles distant from Mr. -Peterkin's. I was glad of this, for of late it was indeed but seldom -that I had been allowed to indulge in a walk through the woods. All -through the leafy glory of the summer season I had looked toward the old -sequestered forest with a longing eye. Each little bird seemed wooing me -away, yet my occupations confined me closely to the house; and a -pleasure-walk, even on Sunday, was a luxury which a negro might dream of -but never indulge. Now, though it was the lonely autumn time, yet loved -I still the woods, dismantled as they were. There is something in the -grandeur of the venerable forests, that always lifts the soul to -devotion! The patriarchal trees and the delicate sward, the wind-music -and the almost ceaseless miserere of the grove, elevate the heart, and -to the cultivated mind speak with a power to which that of books is but -poor and tame.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2> - -<p class="center">QUIETUDE OF THE WOODS—A GLIMPSE OF THE STRANGER—MRS. MANDY'S WORDS OF -CRUEL IRONY—SAD REFLECTIONS.</p> - -<p>The freshening breeze, tempered with the keen chill of the coming -winter, made a lively music through the woods, as, floating along, it -toyed with the fallen leaves that lay dried and sere upon the earth. -There stood the giant trees, rearing their bald and lofty heads to the -heavens, whilst at their feet was spread their splendid summer livery. -Like the philosophers of old, in their calm serenity they looked away -from earth and its troubles to the "bright above."</p> - -<p>I wandered on, with a quick step, in the direction of the doctor's. The -recent painful events were not calculated to color my thoughts very -pleasingly; yet I had taught myself to live so entirely <i>within</i>, to be -so little affected by what was <i>without</i>, that I could be happy in -imagination, notwithstanding what was going on in the external world. -'Tis well that the negro is of an imaginative cast. Suppose he were by -nature strongly practical and matter-of-fact; life could not endure with -him. His dreaminess, his fancy, makes him happy in spite of the dreary -reality which surrounds him. The poor slave, with not a sixpence in his -pocket, dreams of the time when he shall be able to buy himself, and -revels in this most delightful Utopia.</p> - -<p>I had walked on for some distance, without meeting any object of special -interest, when, passing through a large "<i>deadening</i>," I was surprised -to see a gentleman seated upon a fragment of what had once been a noble -tree. He was engaged at that occupation which is commonly considered to -denote want of thought, viz., <i>whittling a stick</i>.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p><p>I stopped suddenly, and looked at him very eagerly, for now, with the -broad day-light streaming over him, I recognized the one whom I had -watched in the dubious moonbeams! This was Mr. Robert Worth, the man who -held those dangerous Abolition principles—the fanatic, who was rash -enough to express, south of Mason and Dixon's line, the opinion that -negroes are human beings and entitled to consideration. Here now he was, -and I could look at him. How I longed to speak to him, to talk with him, -hear him tell all his generous views; to ask questions as to those free -Africans at the North who had achieved name and fame, and learn more of -the distinguished orator, Frederick Douglass! So great was my desire, -that I was almost ready to break through restraint, and, forgetful of my -own position, fling myself at his feet, and beg him to comfort me. Then -came the memory of Miss Bradly's treachery, and I sheathed my heart. -"No, no, I will not again trust to white people. They have no sympathy -with us, our natures are too simple for their cunning;" and, reflecting -thus, I walked on, yet I felt as if I could not pass him. He had spoken -so nobly in behalf of the slave, had uttered such lofty sentiments, that -my whole soul bowed down to him in worship. I longed to pay homage to -him. There is a principle in the slave's nature to reverence, to look -upward; hence, he makes the most devout Christian, and were it not for -this same spirit, he would be but a poor servant.</p> - -<p>So it was with difficulty I could let pass this opportunity of speaking -with one whom I held in such veneration; but I governed myself and went -on. All the distance I was pondering upon what I had heard in relation -to those of my brethren who had found an asylum in the North. Oh, once -there, I could achieve so much! I felt, within myself, a latent power, -that, under more fortunate circumstances, might be turned to advantage. -When I reached Doctor Mandy's residence I found that he had gone out to -visit a patient. His wife came out to see me, and asked,</p> - -<p>"Who is sick at Mr. Peterkin's?"</p> - -<p>I told her, "Aunt Polly, the cook."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p><p>"Is much the matter?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, Madam; young master thinks she has lost her reason."</p> - -<p>"Lost her reason!" exclaimed Mrs. Mandy.</p> - -<p>"Yes, Madam; she doesn't seem to know any of us, and evidently wanders -in her thoughts." I could not repress the evidence of emotion when I -remembered how kind to me the old creature had been, nay, that for me -she had received the blow which had deprived her of reason.</p> - -<p>"Poor girl, don't cry," said Mrs. Mandy. This lady was of a warm, good -heart, and was naturally touched at the sight of human suffering; she -was one of that quiet sort of beings who feel a great deal and say but -little. Fearful of giving offence, she usually kept silence, lest the -open expression of her sympathy should defeat the purpose. A weak, -though a good person, she now felt annoyed because she had been beguiled -into even pity for a servant. She did not believe in slavery, yet she -dared not speak against the "peculiar institution" of the South. It -would injure the doctor's practice, a matter about which she must be -careful.</p> - -<p>I knew my place too well to say much; therefore I observed a respectful -silence.</p> - -<p>"Now, Ann, you had better hurry home. I expect there is great excitement -at your house, and the ladies will need your services to-day, -particularly; to remain out too long might excite suspicion, and be of -no service to you."</p> - -<p>My looks plainly showed how entire was my acquiescence. She must have -known this, and then, as if self-interest suggested it, she said,</p> - -<p>"You have a good home, Ann, I hope you will never do as Lindy has done. -Homes like yours are rare, and should be appreciated. Where will you -ever again find such kind mistresses and such a good master?"</p> - -<p>"Homes such as mine are rare!" I would that they were; but, alas! they -are too common, as many farms in Kentucky can show! Oh, what a terrible -institution this one must be, which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> originates and involves so many -crimes! Now, here was a kind, honest-hearted woman, who felt assured of -the criminality of slavery; yet, as it is recognized and approved by -law, she could not, save at the risk of social position, pecuniary loss -and private inconvenience, even express an opinion against it. I was the -oppressed slave of one of her wealthy neighbors; she dared not offer me -even a word of pity, but needs must outrage all my nature by telling me -that I had a "good home, kind mistresses and a good master!" Oh, bitter -mockery of torn and lacerated feelings! My blood curdled as I listened. -How much I longed to fling aside the servility at which my whole soul -revolted, and tell her, with a proud voice, how poorly I thought she -supported the dignity of a true womanhood, when thus, for the poor -reward of gold, she could smile at, and even encourage, a system which -is at war with the best interest of human nature; which aims a deadly -blow at the very machinery of society; aye, attacks the noble and -venerable institution of marriage, and breaks asunder ties which God has -commanded us to reverence! This is the policy of that institution, which -Southern people swear they will support even with their life-blood! I -have ransacked my brain to find out a clue to the wondrous infatuation. -I have known, during the years of my servitude, men who had invested -more than half of their wealth in slaves; and he is generally accounted -the greatest gentleman, who owns the most negroes. Now, there is a -reason for the Louisiana or Mississippi planter's investing largely in -this sort of property; but why the Kentucky farmer should wish to own -slaves, is a mystery: surely it cannot be for the petty ambition of -holding human beings in bondage, lording it over immortal souls! Oh, -perverse and strange human nature! Thoughts like these, with a -lightning-like power, drove through my brain and influenced my mind -against Mrs. Mandy, who, I doubt not, was, at heart, a kind, -well-meaning woman. How can the slave be a philanthropist?</p> - -<p>Without saying anything whereby my safety could be imperilled, I left -Mrs. Mandy's residence. When I had walked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> about a hundred yards from -the house, I turned and looked back, and was surprised to see her -looking after me. "Oh, white woman," I inwardly exclaimed, "nursed in -luxury, reared in the lap of bounty, with friends, home and kindred, -that mortal power cannot tear you from, how can <i>you</i> pity the poor, -oppressed slave, who has no liberty, no right, no father, no brother, or -friend, only as the white man chooses he shall have!" Who could expect -these children of wealth, fostered by prosperity, and protected by the -law, to feel for the ignorant negro, who through ages and generations -has been crushed and kept in ignorance? We are told to love our masters! -Why should we? Are we dogs to lick the hand that strikes us? Or are we -men and women with never-dying souls—men and women unprotected in the -very land they have toiled to beautify and adorn! Oh, little, little do -ye know, my proud, free brothers and sisters in the North, of all the -misery we endure, or of the throes of soul that we have! The humblest of -us feel that we are deprived of something that we are entitled to by the -law of God and nature.</p> - -<p>I rambled on through the woods, wrapped in the shadows of gloom and -misanthropy. "Why," I asked myself, "can't I be a hog or dog to come at -the call of my owner? Would it not be better for me if I could repress -all the lofty emotions and generous impulses of my soul, and become a -spiritless thing? I would swap natures with the lowest insect, the -basest serpent that crawls upon the earth. Oh, that I could quench this -thirsty spirit, satisfy this hungry heart, that craveth so madly the -food and drink of knowledge! Is it right to conquer the spirit, which -God has given us? Is it best for a high-souled being to sit supinely -down and bear the vile trammels of an unnatural and immoral bondage? Are -these aspirings sent us from above? Are they wings lent the spirit from -an angel? Or must they be clipped and crushed as belonging to the evil -spirit?" As I walked on, in this state of mind, I neared the spot where -I had beheld the interesting stranger.</p> - -<p>To my surprise and joy I found him still there, occupied as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> before, in -whittling, perhaps the same stick. You, my free friends, who, from the -fortunate accident of birth, are entitled to the heritage of liberty, -can but poorly understand how very humble and degraded American slavery -makes the victim. Now, though I knew this man possessed the very -information for which I so longed, I dared not presume to address him on -a subject even of such vital import. I dare say, and indeed after-times -proved, this young apostle of reform would have applauded as heroism -what then seemed to me as audacity.</p> - -<p>With many a lingering look toward him, I pursued the "noiseless tenor of -my way."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> - -<p class="center">A REFLECTION—AMERICAN ABOLITIONISTS—DISAFFECTION IN KENTUCKY—THE -YOUNG MASTER—HIS REMONSTRANCE.</p> - -<p>Upon my arrival home I found that the doctor, lured by curiosity, and -not by business, had called. The news of Lindy's flight had reached him -in many garbled and exaggerated forms; so he had come to assure himself -of the truth. Of course, with all a Southern patriot's ire, he -pronounced Lindy's conduct an atrocious crime, for which she should -answer with life, or that far worse penalty (as some thought), -banishment "down the river." Thought I not strangely, severely, of those -persons, the doctor and the ladies, as they sat there, luxuriating over -a bottle of wine, denouncing vengeance against a poor, forlorn girl, who -was trying to achieve her liberty;—heroically contending for that on -which Americans pride themselves? Had she been a Hungarian or an Irish -maid, seeking an asylum from the tyranny of a King, she would have been -applauded as one whose name was worthy to be enrolled in the litany of -heroes; but she was a poor, ignorant African, with a sooty face, and -because of this all sympathy was denied her, and she was pronounced -nothing but a "runaway negro," who deserved a terrible punishment; and -the hand outstretched to relieve her, would have been called guilty of -treason. Oh, wise and boastful Americans, see ye no oppression in all -this, or do ye exult in that odious spot, which will blacken the fairest -page of your history "to the last syllable of recorded time"? Does not a -blush stain your cheeks when you make vaunting speeches about the -character of your government? Ye cannot, I know ye cannot, be easy in -your consciences; I know that a secret, unspoken trouble gnaws like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> a -canker in your breasts! Many of you veil your eyes, and grope through -the darkness of this domestic oppression; you will not listen to the -cries of the helpless, but sit supinely down and argue upon the "right" -of the thing. There were kind and tender-hearted Jews, who felt that the -crucifixion of the Messiah was a fearful crime, yet fear sealed their -lips. And are there not now time-serving men, who are worthy and capable -of better things, but from motives of policy will offer no word against -this barbarous system of slavery? Oh, show me the men, like that little -handful at the North, who are willing to forfeit everything for the -maintenance of human justice and mercy. Blessed apostles, near to the -mount of God! your lips have been touched with the flame of a new -Pentecost, and ye speak as never men spake before! Who that listens to -the words of Parker, Sumner, and Seward, can believe them other than -inspired? Theirs is no ordinary gift of speech; it burns and blazes with -a mighty power! Cold must be the ear that hears them unmoved; and hard -the heart that throbs not in unison with their noble and earnest -expressions! Often have I paused in this little book, to render a feeble -tribute to these great reformers. It may be thought out of place, yet I -cannot repress the desire to speak my voluntary gratitude, and, in the -name of all my scattered race, thank them for the noble efforts they -have made in our behalf!</p> - -<p>All the malignity of my nature was aroused against Miss Bradly, when I -heard her voice loudest in denunciation against Lindy.</p> - -<p>As I was passing through the room, I could catch fragments of -conversation anything but pleasing to the ear of a slave; but I had to -listen in meekness, letting not even a working muscle betray my dissent. -They were orthodox, and would not tolerate even from an equal a word -contrary to their views.</p> - -<p>I did not venture to ask the doctor what he thought of Aunt Polly, for -that would have been called impudent familiarity, punishable with -whipping at the "post;" but when I met young master in the entry, I -learned from him that the case was one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> of hopeless insanity. -Blood-letting, &c., had been resorted to, but with no effect. The doctor -gave it as his opinion that the case was "without remedy." Not knowing -that young master differed from his father and sisters, the doctor had, -in his jocose and unfeeling way, suggested that it was not much -difference; the old thing was of but little value; she was old and -worn-out. To all this young master made no other reply than a fixed look -from his meek eyes—a look which the doctor could not understand; for -the idea of sympathy with or pity for a slave would have struck him as -being a thing existing only in the bosom of a fanatical abolitionist, -whose conviction would not permit him to cross the line of Mason and -Dixon. Ah! little knew he (the coarse doctor) what a large heart full of -human charities had grown within; nay, was indigenous to this -south-western latitude. I believe, yes have reason to know, that the -pure sentiment of abolition is one that is near and dear to the heart of -many a Kentuckian; even those who are themselves the hereditary holders -of slaves are, in many instances, the most opposed to the system. This -sentiment is, perhaps, more largely developed in, and more openly -expressed by, the females of the State; and this is accounted for from -the fact that to be suspected of abolition tendencies is at once the -plague-mark whereby a man is ever after considered unfit for public -trust or political honor. It is the great question, the strong -conservative element of society. To some extent it likewise taboos, in -social circles, the woman who openly expresses such sentiments; though -as she has no popular interests to stake, in many cases her voice will -be on the side of right, not might.</p> - -<p>In later years I remember to have overheard a colloquy between a lady -and gentleman (both slaveholders) in Kentucky. The gentleman had vast -possessions, about one-third of which consisted of slaves. The lady's -entire wealth was in six negroes, some of them under the age of ten. -They were hired out at the highest market prices, and by the proceeds -she was supported. She had been raised in a strongly conservative -community; nay, her own family were (to use a Kentuckyism) the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> "pick -and choose" of the pro-slavery party. Some of them had been considered -the able vindicators of the "system;" yet she, despite the force of -education and the influence of domestic training, had broken away from -old trammels and leash-strings, and was, both in thought and expression, -a bold, ingrain abolitionist. She defied the lions in their chosen dens. -On the occasion of this conversation, I heard her say that she could not -remain happy whilst she detained in bondage those creatures who could -claim, under the Constitution, alike with her, their freedom; and so -soon as she attained her majority, she intended to liberate them. "But," -said she—and I shall never forget the mournful look of her dark -eye—"the statute of the State will not allow them to remain here ten -days after liberation; and one of these men has a wife (to whom he is -much attached), who is a slave to a master that will neither free her -nor sell her. Now, this poor captive husband would rather remain in -slavery to me, than be parted from his wife; and here is the point upon -which I always stand. I wish to be humane and just to him; and yet rid -myself from the horrid crime to which, from the accident of inheritance, -I have become accessory." The gentleman, who seemed touched by the -heroism of the girl, was beguiled into a candid acknowledgment of his -own sentiments; and freely declared to her that, if it were not for his -political aspirations, he would openly free every slave he owned, and -relieve his conscience from the weight of the "perilous stuff" that so -oppressed it. "But," said he, "were I to do it in Kentucky, I should be -politically dead. It would, besides, strike a blow at my legal practice, -and then what could I do? 'Othello's occupation would be gone.' Of what -avail, then, would be my 'quiddits, quillets; my cases, tenures and my -tricks?' I, who am high in political favor, should live to read my -shame. I, who now 'tower in my pride of place, should, by some mousing -owl, be hawked at and killed.' No, I must burden my conscience yet a -little longer."</p> - -<p>The lady, with all a young girl's naïve and beautiful enthusiasm, -besought him to disregard popular praise and worldly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> distinction. "Seek -first," said she, "the kingdom of heaven, and all things else shall be -given you;" but the gentleman had grown hard in this world's devious -wiles. He preferred throwing off his allegiance to Providence, and, -single-handed and alone, making his fate. Talk to me of your thrifty -men, your popular characters, and I instantly know that you mean a -cringing, parasitical server of the populace; one who sinks soul, spirit -and manly independence for the mere garments that cover his perishable -body, and to whom the empty plaudits of the unthinking crowd are better -music than the thankful prayer of suffering humanity. Let such an one, I -say, have his full measure of the "clapping of hands," let him hear it -all the while; for he cannot see the frown that darkens the brow of the -guardian angel, who, with a sigh, records his guilt. Go on, thou worldly -Pharisee, but the day <i>will come</i>, when the lowly shall be exalted. -Trust and wait we longer. Oh, ye who "know the right, and yet the wrong -pursue," a fearful reckoning will be yours.</p> - -<p>But young master was not of this sort; I felt that his lips were closed -from other and higher motives. If it had been of any avail, no matter -what the cost to himself, he would have spoken. His soul knew but one -sentiment, and that was "love to God and good will to men on earth." And -now, as he entered the room where the doctor and the ladies were seated, -and listened to their heartless conversation, he planted himself firmly -in their midst, saying:</p> - -<p>"Sisters, the time has come when I <i>must</i> speak. Patiently have I lived -beneath this my father's roof, and witnessed, without uttering one word, -scenes at which my whole soul revolted; I have heard that which has -driven me from your side. On my bare knees, in the gloom of the forest, -I have besought God to soften your hearts. I have asked that the dew of -mercy might descend upon the hoary head of my father, and that womanly -gentleness might visit your obdurate hearts. I have felt that I could -give my life up a sacrifice to obtain this; but my unworthy prayers have -not yet been answered. In vain, in vain,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> I have hoped to see a change -in you. Are you women or fiends? How can you persecute, to the death, -poor, ignorant creatures, whose only fault is a black skin? How can you -inhumanly beat those who have no protectors but you? Reverse the case, -and take upon yourselves their condition; how would you act? Could you -bear silently the constant "wear and tear" of body, the perpetual -imprisonment of the soul? Could you surrender yourselves entirely to the -keeping of another, and that other your primal foe—one who for ages has -had his arm uplifted against your race? Suppose you every day witnessed -a board groaning with luxuries (the result of your labor) devoured by -your persecutors, whilst you barely got the crumbs; your owners dressed -in purple and fine linen, whilst you wore the coarsest material, though -all their luxury was the product of your exertion; what think you would -be right for you to do? Or suppose I, whilst lingering at the little -spring, should be stolen off, gagged and taken to Algiers, kept there in -servitude, compelled to the most drudging labor; poorly clad and -scantily fed whilst my master lived like a prince; kept in constant -terror of the lash; punished severely for every venial offence, and my -poor heart more lacerated than my body;—what would you think of me, if -a man were to tell me that, with his assistance, I could make my escape -to a land of liberty, where my rights would be recognized, and my person -safe from violence; I say what would you think, if I were to decline, -and to say I preferred to remain with the Algerines?" He paused, but -none replied. With eyes wonderingly fixed upon him, the group remained -silent.</p> - -<p>"You are silent all," he continued, "for conviction, like a swift arrow, -has struck your souls. Oh, God!" and he raised his eyes upward, "out of -the mouths of babes and sucklings let wisdom, holiness and truth -proceed. Touch their flinty hearts, and let the spark of grace be -emitted! Oh, sisters, know ye not that this Algerine captivity that I -have painted, is but a poor picture of the daily martyrdom which our -slaves endure? Look on that old woman, who, by a brutal blow from our -father,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> has been deprived of her reason. Look at that little haggard -orphan, Amy, who is the kicked football of you all. Look at the poor men -whom we have brutalized and degraded. Think of Lindy, driven by frenzy -to brave the passage to an unknown country rather than longer endure -what we have put upon her. Gaze, till your eyes are bleared, upon that -whipping-post, which rises upon our plantation; it is wet, even now, -with the blood that has gushed from innocent flesh. Look at the ill-fed, -ill-clothed creatures that live among us; and think they have immortal -souls, which we have tried to put out. Oh, ponder well upon these -things, and let this poor, wretched girl, who has sallied forth, let her -go, I say, to whatever land she wishes, and strive to forget the horrors -that haunted her here."</p> - -<p>Again he paused, but none of them durst reply. Inspired by their -silence, he went on:</p> - -<p>"And from you, Miss Bradly, I had expected better things. You were -reared in a State where the brutality of the slave system is not -tolerated. Your early education, your home influences, were all against -it. Why and how can your womanly heart turn away from its true -instincts? Is it for you, a Northerner and a woman, to put up your voice -in defence of slavery? Oh, shame! triple-dyed shame, should stain your -cheeks! Well may my sisters argue for slavery, when you, their teacher, -aid and abet them. Could you not have instilled better things into their -minds? I know full well that your heart and mind are against slavery; -but for the ease of living in our midst, enjoying our bounty, and -receiving our money, you will silence your soul and forfeit your -principles. Yea, for a salary, you will pander to this horrid crime. -Judas, for thirty pieces of silver, sold the Redeemer of the world; but -what remorse followed the dastard act! You will yet live to curse the -hour of your infamy. You might have done good. Upon the waxen minds of -these girls you might have written noble things, but you would not."</p> - -<p>I watched Miss Bradly closely whilst he was speaking. She turned white -as a sheet. Her countenance bespoke the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> convicted woman. Not an eye -rested upon her but read the truth. Starting up at length from her -chair, Miss Jane shouted out, in a theatrical way,</p> - -<p>"Treason! treason in our own household, and from one of our own number! -And so, Mr. John, you are the abolitionist that has sown dissension and -discontent among our domestics. We have thought you simple; but I -discover, sir, you are more knave than fool. Father shall know of this, -and take steps to arrest this treason."</p> - -<p>"As you please, sister Jane; you can make what report you please, only -speak the truth."</p> - -<p>At this she flew toward him, and, catching him by the collar, slapped -his cheeks severely.</p> - -<p>"Right well done," said a clear, manly voice; and, looking up, I saw Mr. -Worth standing in the open door. "I have been knocking," said he, "for -full five minutes; but I am not surprised that you did not hear me, for -the strong speech to which I have listened had force enough to overpower -the sound of a thunder-storm."</p> - -<p>Miss Jane recoiled a few steps, and the deepest crimson dyed her cheeks. -She made great pretensions to refinement, and could not bear, now, that -a gentleman (even though an abolitionist) should see her striking her -brother. Miss Tildy assumed the look of injured innocence, and smilingly -invited Mr. Worth to take a seat.</p> - -<p>"Do not be annoyed by what you have seen. Jane is not passionate; but -the boy was rude to her, and deserved a reproof."</p> - -<p>Without making a reply, but, with his eye fixed on young master, Mr. -Worth took the offered seat. Miss Bradly, with her face buried in her -hands, moved not; and the doctor sat playing with his half-filled glass -of wine; but young master remained standing, his eye flashing strangely, -and a bright crimson spot glowing on either cheek. He seemed to take no -note of the entrance of Mr. Worth, or in fact any of the group. There he -stood, with his golden locks falling over his white<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> brow; and calm -serenity resting like a sunbeam on his face. Very majestic and imposing -was that youthful presence. High determination and everlasting truth -were written upon his face. With one look and a murmured "Father forgive -them, for they know not what they do," he turned away.</p> - -<p>"Stop, stop, my brave boy," cried Mr. Worth, "stop, and let me look upon -you. Had the South but one voice, and that one yours, this country would -soon be clear of its great dishonor."</p> - -<p>To this young master made no spoken reply; but the clear smile that lit -his countenance expressed his thanks; and seeing that Mr. Worth was -resolved to detain him, he said,</p> - -<p>"Let me go, good sir, for now I feel that I need the woods," and soon -his figure was gliding along his well-beloved path, in the direction of -the spring. Who shall say that solitary communing with Nature unfits the -soul for active life? True, indeed, it does unfit it for baseness, -sordid dealings, and low detraction, by lifting it from its low -condition, and sending it out in a broad excursiveness.</p> - -<p>Here, in the case of young master, was a sweet and glowing flower that -had blossomed in the wilds, and been nursed by nature only. The country -air had fanned into bloom the bud of virtue and the beauty of highest truth.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> - -<p class="center">THE RETURN OF THE HUNTERS FLUSHED WITH SUCCESS—MR. PETERKIN'S VAGARY.</p> - -<p>As young Master strode away, Misses Jane and Tildy regarded each other -in silent wonder. At length the latter, who caught the cue from her -sister, burst forth in a violent laugh, that I can define only by -calling it a romping laugh, so full of forced mirth. Miss Jane took up -the echo, and the house resounded with their assumed merriment. No one -else, however, seemed to take the infection; and they had the fun all to -themselves.</p> - -<p>"Well, Ann," said Miss Tildy, putting on a quizzical air, "I suppose you -have been very much edified by your young master's explosion of -philanthropy and good-will toward you darkies."</p> - -<p>Too well I knew my position to make an answer; so there I stood, silent -and submissive.</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, I suppose this young renegade has delivered abolition lectures -in the kitchen hall, to his 'dearly belubed' brederen ob de colored -race," added Miss Matilda, intending to be vastly witty.</p> - -<p>"I think we had better send him on to an Anti-slavery convention, and -give him a seat 'twixt Lucy Stone and Fred Douglas. Wouldn't his white -complexion contrast well with that of the sable orator?" and this Miss -Jane designed should be exceedingly pungent.</p> - -<p>Still no one answered. Mr. Worth's face wore a troubled expression; the -doctor still played with his wine-glass; and Miss Bradly's face was -buried deeper in her hands.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p><p>"Suppose father had been here; what do you think he would have said?" -asked Miss Jane.</p> - -<p>This, no doubt, recalled Dr. Mandy to the fact that Mr. Peterkin's -patronage was well worth retaining, so he must speak <i>now</i>.</p> - -<p>"Oh, your father, Miss Jane, is such a sensible man, that he would -consider it only the freak of an imprudent beardless boy."</p> - -<p>"Is, then," I asked myself, "all expressed humanity but idle gibberish? -Is it only beardless boys who can feel for suffering slaves? Is all -noble philanthropy voted vapid by sober, serious, reflecting manhood? If -so, farewell hope, and welcome despair!" I looked at Mr. Worth; but his -face was rigid, and a snowy pallor overspread his gentle features. He -was young, and this was his first visit to Kentucky. In his home at the -North he had heard many stories of the manner in which slavery was -conducted in the West and South; but the stories, softened by distance, -had reached him in a mild form, consequently he was unprepared for what -he had witnessed since his arrival in Kentucky. He had, though desiring -liberty alike for all, both white and black, looked upon the system as -an unjust and oppressive one, but he had no thought that it existed in -the atrocious and cruel form which fact, not report, had now revealed to -him. His whole soul shuddered and shrivelled at what he saw. He -marvelled how the skies could be so blue and beautiful; how the flowers -could spring so lavishly, and the rivers roll so majestically, and the -stars burn so brightly over a land dyed with such horrible crimes.</p> - -<p>"Father will not deal very leniently with this boy's follies; he will -teach Johnny that there's more virtue in honoring a father, than in -equalizing himself with negroes." Here Miss Jane tossed her head -defiantly.</p> - -<p>Just then a loud noise was heard from the avenue, and, looking out the -window, we descried the hunters returning crowned with exultation, for, -alas! poor Lindy had been found, and there, handcuffed, she marched -between a guard of Jake on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> the one side, and Dan on the other. There -were marks of blood on her brow, and her dress was here and there -stained. Cool as was the day, great drops of perspiration rolled off her -face. With her head bowed low on her breast, she walked on amid the -ribald jests of her persecutors.</p> - -<p>"Well, we has cotch dis 'ere runaway gal, and de way we did chase her -down is nuffen to nobody," said old Nace, who had led the troop. "I -tells you it jist takes dis here nigger and his hounds to tree the -runaway. I reckons, Miss Lindy, you'll not be fur trying ob it agin."</p> - -<p>"No, dat hab fixed her," replied the obsequious Jake. Dan laughed -heartily, showing his stout teeth.</p> - -<p>"Now, Masser," said Nace, as taking off his remnant of a hat he scraped -his foot back, and grinned terribly, "dis ar' nigger, if you pleases, -sar, would like to hab a leetle drap ob de critter dat you promise to -him."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, you black rascal, you wants some ob my fust-rate whiskey, does -you? Wal, I 'spects, as you treed dat ar' d——d nigger-wench, you -desarves a drap or so."</p> - -<p>"Why, yes, Masser, you see as how I did do my best for to ketch her, and -I is right much tired wid de run. You sees dese old legs is gettin' -right stiff; dese jints ain't limber like Jake and Dan's dar, yet I -tink, Masser, I did de bestest, an' I ought to hab a leetle drap de -most, please, sar."</p> - -<p>"Come, 'long, come 'long, boys, arter we stores dis gal away I'll gib -you yer dram."</p> - -<p>There had stood poor Lindy, never once looking up, crestfallen, broken -in heart, and bruised in body, awaiting a painful punishment, scarce -hoping to escape with life and limb. Striking her a blow with his huge -riding-whip, Mr. Peterkin shouted, "off with you to the lock-up!"</p> - -<p>Now, that which was technically termed the "lock-up," was an old, strong -building, which had once been used as a smoke-house, but since the -erection of a new one, was employed for the very noble purpose of -confining negroes. It was a dark, damp place, without a window, and but -one low door,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> through which to enter. In this wretched place, bound and -manacled, the poor fugitive was thrust.</p> - -<p>"There, you may run off if you ken," said Mr. Peterkin, as he drew the -rough door to, and fastened on the padlock with the dignified air of a -regularly-installed jailer. "Now, boys, come 'long and git the liquor."</p> - -<p>This pleasing announcement seemed to give an additional impetus to the -spirits of the servants, and, with many a "ha, ha, ha," they followed -their master.</p> - -<p>"Well, father," said Miss Jane, whilst she stood beside Mr. Peterkin, -who was accurately measuring out a certain quantity of whiskey to the -three smiling slaves, who stood holding their tin cups to receive it, "I -am glad you succeeded in arresting that audacious runaway. Where did you -find her? Who was with her? How did she behave? Oh, tell me all about -the adventure; it really does seem funny that such a thing should have -occurred in our family; and now that the wretch has been caught, I can -afford to laugh at it."</p> - -<p>"Wal," answered Mr. Peterkin, as he replaced the cork in the brown jug, -and proceeded to lock it up in his private closet, "you does ax the most -questions in one breath of any gal I ever seed in all my life. Why, I -haint bin in the house five minutes, and you has put more questions to -me than a Philadelphy lawyer could answer. 'Pon my soul, Jane, you is a -fast 'un."</p> - -<p>"Never mind my fastness, father, but tell me what I asked."</p> - -<p>"Wal, whar is I to begin? You axed whar Lindy was found? These dogs -hunted her to Mr. Farland's barn. Thar they 'gan to smell and snort -round and cut up all sorts of capers, and old Nace clumb up to the hay -loft, and sung out, in a loud voice, 'Here she am, here she am.' Then I -hearn a mighty scrambling and shufflin' up dar, so I jist springed up -arter Nace, and thar was the gal, actually fightin' with Nace, who -wanted to fetch her right down to the ground whar we was a waitin'. I -tells you, now, one right good lick from my powder-horn fetched her all -right. She soon seen it was no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> kind of use to be opposin' of us, and so -she jist sot down right willin'. I then fetched several good licks, and -she knowed how to do, kase, when I seed I had drawed the blood, I didn't -kere to beat her any more. So I ordered her to git down outen that ar' -loft quicker than she got up. Then we bound her hands, and driv her long -through the woods like a bull. I tells you she was mighty-much 'umbled -and shamed; every now and thin she'd blubber out a cryin', but my whup -soon shot up her howlin'."</p> - -<p>"I've a great notion to go," said Jane, "and torment her a little more, -the impudent hussy! I wonder if she thinks we will ever take her back to -live with us. She has lost a good home, for she shall not come here any -more. I want you to sell her, father, and at the highest price, to a -regular trader."</p> - -<p>"That will I do, and there is a trader in this very neighborhood now. -I'll ride over this arternoon and make 'rangements with him fur her -sale. But come, Jane, I is powerful hungry; can't you git me something -to eat?"</p> - -<p>"But, father, I have a word to say with you in private, draw near me."</p> - -<p>"What ails you now, gals?" he said, as Miss Tildy joined them, with a -perplexed expression of countenance. As he drew close to them I heard -Miss Jane say, through her clenched teeth, in a hissing tone:</p> - -<p>"Old Polly is insane; lost her reason from that blow which you gave her. -Do you think they could indict you?"</p> - -<p>"Who, in the name of h—l, can say that I struck her? Who saw it? No, -I'd like fur to see the white man that would dar present Jeems Peterkin -afore the Grand Jury, and a nigger darn't think of sich a thing, kase as -how thar testimony ain't no count."</p> - -<p>"Then we are safe," both of the ladies simultaneously cried.</p> - -<p>"But whar is that d——d old hussy? She ain't crazy, only 'possuming so -as to shuffle outen the work. Let me git to her once, and I'll be bound -she will step as smart as ever. One<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> shake of the old cowhide will make -her jump and talk as sensible as iver she did."</p> - -<p>"'Tisn't worth while, father, going near her. I tell you, Doctor Mandy -says she is a confirmed lunatic."</p> - -<p>"I tells yer I knows her constitution better 'an any of yer, doctors, -and all; and this here cowhide is allers the best medicine fur niggers; -they ain't like the white folks, no how nor ways."</p> - -<p>So saying he, followed by his daughters, went to the cabin where poor -Aunt Polly was sitting, in all the touching simplicity of second -childhood, playing with some bits of ribbon, bright-colored calico, and -flashy artificial flowers. Looking up with a vacant stare at the group -she spoke not, but, slowly shaking her head in an imbecile way, -murmured:</p> - -<p>"These are putty, but yer mustn't take 'em frum me; dese am all dat dis -ole nigger hab got, dese here am fadder, mudder, hustbund, an chile. Lit -me keep 'em."</p> - -<p>"You old fool, what's you 'bout, gwine on at this here rate? Don't you -know I is yer master, and will beat the very life outen yer, if yer -don't git up right at once?"</p> - -<p>"Now who is yer? Sure now, an' dis old nigger doesn't know yer. Yer is a -great big man, dat looks so cross and bad at me. I wish yer would go on -'bout yer own bisness, and be a lettin' me 'lone. I ain't a troublin' of -yer, no way."</p> - -<p>"You ain't, arnt yer, you old fool? but I'll give yer a drap of medicine -that'll take the craze outen yer, and make yer know who yer master is. -How does you like that, and this, and this?" and, suiting the action to -the word, he dealt her blow after blow, in the most ferocious manner. -Her shoulders were covered with blood that gushed from the torn flesh. A -low howl (it could only be called a howl) burst from her throat, and -flinging up her withered hands, she cried, "Oh, good Lord Jesus, come -and help thy poor old servant, now in dis her sore time ob trouble."</p> - -<p>"The Lord Jesus won't hear sich old nigger wretches as you," said Mr. -Peterkin.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p><p>"Oh, yes, de Lord Jesus will. He 'peared to me but a leetle bit ago, -and he was all dressed in white, wid a gold crown upon His head, and His -face war far and putty like young Masser's, only it seemed to be heap -brighter, and he smiled at dis poor old sufferin' nigger; and den -'peared like a low, little voice 'way down to de bottom ob my heart say, -Polly, be ob good cheer, de Lord Jesus is comin' to take you home. He no -care weder yer skin is white or black. He is gwine fur to make yer happy -in de next world. Oh, den me feel so good, me no more care for -anything."</p> - -<p>"All of this is a crazy fancy," said Dr. Mandy, who stepped into the -cabin; but taking hold of Polly's wrist, and holding his fingers over -her pulse, his countenance changed. "She has excessive fever, and a -strong flow of blood to the brain. She cannot live long. Put her -instantly to bed, and let me apply leeches."</p> - -<p>"Do yer charge extry for leeching, doctor?" asked Mr. Peterkin.</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, sir, but it is not much consideration, as you are one of my -best customers."</p> - -<p>"I don't want to run any useless expense 'bout the old 'oman. You see -she has served my family a good many years."</p> - -<p>"And you are for that reason much attached to her," interposed the -doctor.</p> - -<p>"Not a bit of it, sir. I never was 'tached to a nigger. Even when I was -a lad I had no fancy fur 'em, not even yer bright yallow wenches; and I -ain't gwine fur to spend money on that old nigger, unless you cure her, -and make her able to work and pay fur the money that's bin laid out fur -her."</p> - -<p>"I can't promise to do that; neither am I certain that the leeches will -do her any material good, but they will assuredly serve to mitigate her -sufferings, by decreasing the fever, which now rages so high."</p> - -<p>"I don' care a cuss for that. Taint no use then of trying the leeches. -If she be gwine to die, why let her do it in the cheapest way."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p><p>Saying this, he went off with the young ladies, the doctor following in -the wake. As he was passing through the door-way, I caught him by the -skirts of his coat. Turning suddenly round, he saw who it was, and drew -within the cabin.</p> - -<p>"Doctor," and I spoke with great timidity, "is she so ill? Will she, -must she die? Please try the leeches. Here," and I drew from an old -hiding-place in the wall the blessed half-dollar which Master Eddy had -given me as a keepsake. For years it had lain silently there, treasured -more fondly than Egyptian amulet or Orient gem. On some rare holiday I -had drawn it from its concealment to gloat over it with all a miser's -pride. I did not value it for the simple worth of the coin, for I had -sense enough to know that its actual value was but slight; yet what a -wealth of memories it called up! It brought <i>back</i> the times when <i>I had -a mother</i>; when, as a happy, careless child (though a slave), I wandered -through the wild greenwood; where I ranged free as a bird, ere the -burden of a blow had been laid upon my shoulders; and when my young -master and mistress sometimes bestowed kind words upon me. The fair -locks and mild eyes of the latter gleamed upon me with dream-like -beauty. The kind, tearful face of Master Eddy, his gentle words on that -last most dreadful day that bounded and closed the last chapter of happy -childhood—all these things were recalled by the sight of this simple -little half-dollar! And now I was going to part with it. What a struggle -it was! I couldn't do it. No, I couldn't do it. It was the one <i>silver</i> -link between me and remembered joy. To part with it would be to wipe out -the <i>bright</i> days of my life. It would be sacrilege, in justice, a -wrong; no, I replaced it in the old faded rag (in which it had been -wrapped for years), and closed my hand convulsively over it. There stood -the doctor! He had caught sight of the gleaming coin, and (small as it -was) his cupidity was excited, and when he saw my hand closed over the -shining treasure, the smile fled from his face, and he said:</p> - -<p>"Girl, for what purpose did you detain me? My time is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> precious. I have -other patients to visit this morning, and cannot be kept here longer!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, doctor, try the leeches."</p> - -<p>"Your Master says he won't pay for them."</p> - -<p>"But for the sake of charity, for the value of human life, you will do -it without pay."</p> - -<p>"Will I, though? Trust me for that—and who will feed my wife and -children in the meantime. I can't be doctoring every old sick nigger -gratuitously. Her old fagged-out frame ain't worth the waste of my -leeches. I thought you were going to pay for it; but you see a nigger is -a nigger the world over. They are too stingy to do anything for one of -their own tribe."</p> - -<p>"But this money is a keepsake, a parting-gift from my young Master, who -gave it to me years ago, when I was sold. I prize it because of the -recollections which it calls up."</p> - -<p>"A sentimental nigger! Well, <i>that is</i> something new; but if you cared -for that old woman's life you wouldn't hesitate," and, so saying, he -walked away. I looked upon poor Aunt Polly, and I fancied there was a -rebuking light in her feeble eye; and her withered hands seemed -stretched out to ask the help which I cruelly withheld.</p> - -<p>And shall I desert her who has suffered so deeply for me? Well may she -reproach me with that "piteous action"—me, who for a romantic and -fanciful feeling withhold the means of saving her life. Oh, how I blamed -myself! How wicked and selfish I thought my heart.</p> - -<p>"Doctor! come back, doctor! here is the money," I cried.</p> - -<p>He had stood but a few steps without the cabin door, doubtless expecting -this change in my sentiments.</p> - -<p>"You have done well, Ann, to deny yourself, and make some effort to save -the life of the old woman. You see I would have done it for nothing; but -the leeches cost me money. It is inconvenient to get them, and I have a -family, a very helpless one, to support, and you know it won't do to -neglect them, lest I be worse than a heathen and infidel. In your case, -my good girl, the case is quite different, for <i>niggers</i> are taken care -of and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> supported by their Masters, and any little change that you may -have is an extra, for which you have no particular need."</p> - -<p>An "extra" indeed it was, and a very rare one. One that had come but -once in my life, and, God be praised, it afforded me an opportunity of -doing the good Samaritan's work! I had seen how the Levite and the -priest had neglected the wounded woman, and with this little coin I -could do a noble deed; but as to my being well-cared and provided for, I -thought the doctor had shot wide of his mark. I was surprised at the -tone of easy familiarity which he assumed toward me; but this was -explained by the fact that he was what is commonly called a jolly -fellow, and had been pretty freely indulging in the "joyful glass." -Besides, I was going to pay him; then, maybe, he felt a little ashamed -of his avarice, and sought by familiar tone and manner to beguile me, -and satisfy his conscience.</p> - -<p>His "medical bags" had been left in the entry, for Miss Jane, who -delighted in the Lubin-perfumed extracts, would tolerate nothing less -sweet-scented, and by her prohibitory fiat, the "bags" were denied -admittance to the house. Once, when the doctor was suddenly called to -see a white member of the family, he, either through forgetfulness or -obstinacy, violated the order, and Miss Jane had every carpet taken up -and shaken, and the floor scoured, for the odor seemed to haunt her for -weeks. Since then he had rigidly adhered to the rule; I suspect, with -many secret maledictions upon the acuteness of her olfactories.</p> - -<p>Now he requested me to bring the bags to him, I found them, as I had -expected, sitting in the very spot where he usually placed them.</p> - -<p>"There they are, doctor, now be quick. Cure her, help her, do anything, -but let her not die whilst this money can purchase her life, or afford -her ease."</p> - -<p>He took the coin from my hand, surveyed it for a moment, a thing that I -considered very cruel, for, all the while, the victim was suffering -uncared for, unattended to.</p> - -<p>"It is but a small piece, doctor, but it is my all; if I had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> more, you -should have it, but now please be quick in the application of your -remedy."</p> - -<p>"This money will pay but for a few leeches, not enough to do the -contusion much good. You see there is a great deal of diseased blood -collected at the left temple; but I'll be charitable and throw in a few -leeches, for which you can pay me at some other time, when you happen to -have money."</p> - -<p>"Certainly, doctor, I will give you <i>all</i> that you demand as fast as I -get it."</p> - -<p>After a little scarification he applied the leeches, twelve in number, -little, sleek, sharp, needle-pointed, oily-looking things. Quickly, as -if starved, the tiny vampires commenced their work of blood-sucking.</p> - -<p>"She bore to be scarified better than any subject I ever saw. Not a -writhe or wince," remarked the doctor.</p> - -<p>Ah, thought I, she has endured too much pain to tremble at a needle -prick like that. She, whose body had bled at every pore, whose skin had -been torn and mangled until it bore a thousand scars, could surely bear, -without writhing, a pain so delicate as that. Though I thought thus, I -said not a word; for (to me) the worst part of our slavery is that we -are not allowed to speak our opinion on any subject. We are to be mutes, -save when it suits our owners to let us answer in words obsequious -enough to please their greedy love of authority.</p> - -<p>Silently I stood watching the leeches. From the loss of blood, Aunt -Polly seemed somewhat exhausted, and was soon soundly, sweetly sleeping.</p> - -<p>"Let her sleep," said the doctor, as he removed the leeches and replaced -them in a little stone vase, "when she wakes she will probably be -better, and you will then owe me one dollar and a half, as the bill is -two dollars. It would have been more, but I allow part to go for -charity." So saying he left the cabin and returned to the house. Oh, -most noble Christian "charity"! Is this the blessed quality that is -destined to "cover a multitude of sins"? He would not even leech a -half-dying woman without a pecuniary reward. Oh, far advanced whites, -fast growing in grace and ripening in holiness!</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> - -<p class="center">THE ESSAY OF WIT—YOUNG ABOLITIONIST—HIS INFLUENCE—A NIGHT AT THE DOOR -OF THE "LOCK-UP."</p> - -<p>After wiping the fresh blood-stains (produced by the severe beating of -Mr. Peterkin) from Aunt Polly's shoulders, and binding up her brow to -conceal the wounds made by the leeching process, I tenderly spread the -old coverlet over her form, and then turned away from her to go about my -usual avocations.</p> - -<p>The doctor was just making his adieux, and the ladies had gathered round -him in quite a social and sportive way. Misses Jane and Tildy were -playfully disputing which one should take possession of his heart and -hand, in the event of Mrs. Mandy's sudden demise. All this merriment and -light-heartedness was exhibited, when but a few rods from them a poor, -old, faithful creature lay in the agonies of a torturing death, and a -young girl, who had striven for her liberty, and tried to achieve it at -a perilous risk, had just been bound, hand and foot, and cast into outer -darkness! Oh, this was a strange meeting of the extremes. What varied -colors the glass of life can show!</p> - -<p>At length, with many funny speeches, and promises very ridiculous, the -doctor tore himself away from the chatty group.</p> - -<p>Passing in and out of the house, through the hall or in the parlor, as -my business required, I saw Mr. Worth and Miss Bradly sitting quietly -and moodily apart, whilst, occasionally, Miss Tildy would flash out with -a coarse joke, or Miss Jane would speculate upon the feelings of Lindy, -in her present helpless and gloomy confinement.</p> - -<p>"I reckon she does not relish Canada about this time."</p> - -<p>"No; let us ask her <i>candid</i> opinion of it," said Miss Tildy,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> who -considered herself <i>the wit</i> of the family, and this last speech she -regarded as quite an extraordinary flash.</p> - -<p>"That's very good, Till," said her patronizing sister, "but you are -always witty."</p> - -<p>"Now, sister, ain't you ashamed to flatter me so?" and with the most -Laura Matilda-ish air, she turned her head aside and tried to blush.</p> - -<p>I could read, from his clear, manly glance, that Mr. Worth was sick at -heart and goaded to anguish by what he saw and heard; yet, like many -another noble man, he sat in silent endurance. Miss Jane caught the idea -of his gloom, and, with a good deal of sly, vulpine malice, determined -to annoy him. She had not for him, as Miss Tildy had, a personal -admiration; so, by way of vexing him, as well as showing off her -smartness, she asked:</p> - -<p>"Till, is there much Worth in Abolitionism?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know, but there is a <i>Robin</i> in it." This she thought a capital -repartee.</p> - -<p>"Bravo! bravo, Till! who can equal you? You are the wittiest girl in -town or country."</p> - -<p>"Wit is a precious gift," said Mr. Worth, as he satirically elevated his -brows.</p> - -<p>"Indeed is it," replied Miss Tildy, "but I am not conscious of its -possession." Of course she expected he would gainsay her; but, as he was -silent, her cheeks blazed like a peony.</p> - -<p>"What makes Miss Bradly so quiet and seemingly lachrymose? I do believe -Johnny's Abolition lecture has given her the blues."</p> - -<p>"Not the lecture, but the necessity for the lecture," put in Mr. Worth.</p> - -<p>"What's that? what's that 'bout Aberlitionists?" exclaimed Mr. Peterkin, -as he rushed into the room. "Is there one of 'em here? Let me know it, -and my roof shan't shelter the rascal. Whar is he?"</p> - -<p>I looked toward Mr. Worth, for I feared that, on an occasion like this, -his principles would fail as Miss Bradly's had;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> but the fear was -quickly dissipated, as he replied in a manly tone:</p> - -<p>"I, a vindicator of the anti-slavery policy, and a denouncer of the -slave system, stand before you, and declare myself proud of my -sentiments."</p> - -<p>"You? ha! ha! ha! ha! that's too ridiculous; a mere boy; a stripling, no -bigger than my arm. I'd not disgrace my manhood with a fight with the -like of yer."</p> - -<p>"So thought Goliath when David met him in warfare; but witness the -sequel, and then say if the battle is always to the strong, or the -victory with the proud. Might is not always right. I ask to be heard for -my cause. Stripling as you call me, I am yet able to vindicate my -abolition principles upon other and higher ground than mere brute -force."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes; you has larnt, I s'pose, to talk. That's all them windy -Aberlitionists ken do; they berate and talk, but they can't act."</p> - -<p>A contemptuous smile played over the face of Mr. Worth, but he did not -deign to answer with words.</p> - -<p>"Do you know, pa, that Johnny is an Abolitionist?" asked Miss Jane.</p> - -<p>"What! John Peterkin? my son John?"</p> - -<p>"The same," and Miss Jane bowed most significantly.</p> - -<p>"Well, that's funny enuff; but I'll soon bring it outen him. He's a -quiet lad; not much sperrit, and I guess he's hearn some 'cock and bull -story' 'bout freedom and equality. All smart boys of his age is apt to -feel that way, but he'll come outen it. It's all bekase he has hearn too -many Fourth of July speeches; but I don't fear fur him, he is sure to -come outen it. The very idee of my son's being an Aberlitionist is too -funny."</p> - -<p>"Funny is it, father, for your child to love mercy, and deal justly, -even with the lowliest?" As he said this, young master stood in the -doorway. He looked paler and even more spiritual than was his wont.</p> - -<p>Mr. Peterkin sat for full five minutes, gazing at the boy;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> and, strange -to say, made no reply, but strode away from the room.</p> - -<p>Miss Jane and Tildy regarded each other with evident surprise. They had -expected a violent outburst, and thus to see their father tamed and -subdued by the word and glance of their boy-brother, astonished them not -a little.</p> - -<p>Miss Tildy turned toward young master, and said, in what was meant for a -most caustic tone,</p> - -<p>"You are an embryo Van Amburgh, thus to tame the lion's rage."</p> - -<p>"But you, Tildy, are too vulpine to be fascinated even by the glance of -Van Amburgh himself."</p> - -<p>"Well, now, Johnny, you are getting impertinent as well as spicy."</p> - -<p>"Pertinent, you mean," said Mr. Worth. Miss Tildy would not look angry -at <i>him</i>; for she was besieging the fortress of his affections, and she -deemed kind measures the most advantageous.</p> - -<p>Were I to narrate most accurately the conversation that followed, the -repartees that flashed from the lips of some, and the anger that burned -blue in the faces of others, I should only amuse the reader, or what is -more likely, weary him.</p> - -<p>I will simply mention that, after a few hours' sojourn, Mr. Worth took -his departure, not without first having a long conversation, in a -private part of the garden, with young master. Miss Bradly retired to -the young ladies' room (for they would not allow her to leave the -house), under pretext of headache. Often, as I passed in and out to ask -her if she needed anything, I found her weeping bitterly. Late in the -evening, about eight o'clock, Mr. Peterkin returned; throwing the reins -of his horse to Nace, he exclaimed:</p> - -<p>"Well, I've made a good bargain of it; I've sold Lindy to a trader for -one thousand dollars—that is, if she answers the description which I -gave of her. He is comin' in the mornin' to look at her; and, with a -little riggin' up, I think she'll 'pear a rale good-lookin' wench."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p><p>When I went into the house to prepare some supper for Mr. Peterkin (the -family tea had been despatched two hours before), he was in an excellent -humor, well pleased, no doubt, with his good trade.</p> - -<p>"Now, Ann, be brisk and smart, or you might find yourself in the -trader's hands afore long. Likely yellow gals like you sells mighty -well; and if you doesn't behave well you is a goner."</p> - -<p>"Down the river" was not terrible to me, nor did I dread being "sold;" -yet one thing I did fear, and that was separation from young master. In -the last few days he had become to me everything I could respect; nay, I -loved him. Not that it was in his power to do me any signal act of good. -He could not soften the severity of his father and sisters toward me; -yet one thing he could and did do, he spoke an occasional kind, hopeful -word to me. Those whose hearts are fed upon kindness and love, can -little understand how dear to the lonely, destitute soul, is one word of -friendliness. We, to whom the husks are flung with an unfeeling tone, -appreciate as manna from heaven the word of gentleness; and now I -thought if I were to leave young master <i>my soul would die</i>. Had not his -blessed smile elevated and inspired my sinking spirit, and his sweet -tone softened my over-taxed heart? Oh, blessed one! even now I think of -thee, and with a full heart thank God that such beings have lived!</p> - -<p>I watched master dispatch his supper in a most summary manner. At length -he settled himself back in his chair, and, taking his tooth-pick from -his waistcoat pocket, began picking his teeth.</p> - -<p>"Wal, Ann," he said, as he swung himself back in his chair, "how's ole -Poll?"</p> - -<p>"She is still asleep."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I said she was possuming; but by to-morrow, if she ain't up outen -that ar' bunk of hers, I'll know the reason; and I'll sell her to the -trader that's comin' for Lindy."</p> - -<p>"I wish you would sell her, father, and buy a new cook;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> she prepares -everything in such an old-fashioned manner—can't make a single French -dish," said Miss Jane.</p> - -<p>"I don't care a cuss 'bout yer French dishes, or yer fashionable cooks; -I's gwine to sell her, becase the craps didn't yield me much this year, -and I wants money, so I must make it by sellin' off niggers."</p> - -<p>"You must not sell Aunt Polly, and you shall not," said young master, -with a fearful emphasis.</p> - -<p>"What do you mean, lad?" cried the infuriated father, and he sprang from -his seat, and was in the very act of rushing upon the offender; but -suddenly he quailed before the fixed, determined gaze of that eye. He -looked again, then cowered, reeled, and staggered like a drunken man, -and, falling back in his chair, he covered his face with his hands, and -uttered a fearful groan. The ladies were frightened; they had never seen -their father thus fearfully excited. They dared not speak one word. The -finger of an awful silence seemed laid upon each and every one present. -At length young master, with a slow step, approached his father, and, -taking the large hand, which swung listlessly, within his own, said, -"Fath—;" but before he had finished the syllable, Mr. Peterkin sprang -up, exclaiming,</p> - -<p>"Off, I say! off! off! she sent you here; she told you to speak so to -me." Then gazing wildly at Johnny, he cried, "Those are her eyes, that -is her face. I say, away! away! leave me! you torment me with the sight -of that face! It's hers it's hers. Blood will have blood, and now you -comes to git mine!" and the strong man fell prostrate upon the floor, in -a paroxysm of agony. He foamed at the mouth, and rolled his great vacant -eyes around the room in a wildness fearful to behold.</p> - -<p>"Oh Lor'," said old Nace, who appeared in the doorway, "oh Lor', him's -got a fit."</p> - -<p>The ladies shrieked and screamed in a frightful manner. Young master was -almost preternaturally calm. He and Miss Bradly (after Nace and Jake had -placed master on the bed) rendered him every attention. Miss Bradly -chafed his temples<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> with camphor, and moistened the lips and palms of -the hands with it. When he began to revive, he turned his face to the -wall and wept like a child. Then he fell off into a quiet sleep.</p> - -<p>Young master and Miss Bradly watched beside that restless sleeper long -and faithfully. And from that night there grew up between them a fervent -friendship, which endured to the last of their mortal days.</p> - -<p>Upon frequently going into Aunt Polly's cabin, I was surprised to find -her still sleeping. At length when my duties were all discharged in the -house, and I went to prepare for the night's rest, I thought I would -arouse her from her torpor and administer a little nourishment that -might benefit her.</p> - -<p>To my surprise her arm felt rigid, and oh, so cold! What if she is dead! -thought I; and a cold thrill passed over my frame. The big drops burst -from my brow and stood in chilly dew upon my temples. Oh God! can it be -that she is dead! One look, one more touch, and the dreadful question -would be answered; yet, when I attempted to stretch forth my hand, it -was stiff and powerless. In a moment the very atmosphere seemed to grow -heavy; 'twas peopled with a strange, charnel gloom. My breath was thick -and broken, coming only at intervals and with choking gaspings. One more -desperate effort! I commanded myself, gathered all my courage, and, -seizing hold of the body with a power which was stronger than my own, I -turned it over—when, oh God of mercy, such a spectacle! the question -was answered with a fearful affirmation. There, rigid, still and -ghastly, she lay in death. The evident marks of a violent struggle were -stamped upon those features, which, despite their tough -hard-favoredness, and their gaunt gloom, were dear to me; for had she -not been my best of friends, nay proved her friendship by a martyrdom -which, if slower, was no less heroic than that which adorns the columns -of historical renown? Gently I closed those wide-staring, blank eyes, -and pressed tenderly together the distended jaws; and, taking from a box -a slipet of white muslin, bound up her cheeks. Slowly, and not without a -feeling of terror, I unwound the bandage from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> her brow, which concealed -the wound made by the leeches; this I replaced with my only -handkerchief. I then endeavored to straighten the contracted limbs, for -she had died lying upon her side, with her body drawn nearly double. I -found this a rather difficult task; yet was it a melancholy pleasure, a -duty that I performed irresolutely but with tenderness.</p> - -<p>After all was done, and before getting the water to wash the body (for I -wished to enrobe her decently for the burial), I gave way to the luxury -of expressed grief, and, sinking down upon my knees beside that lifeless -form, thanked God for having taken her from this scene of trouble and -trial. "You are gone, my poor old friend; but that hereafter of which we -all entertain so much dread, cannot be to you so bad as this wretched -present; and though I am lonely without you, I rejoice that you have -left this land of bondage. And I believe that at this moment your tried -soul is free and happy!"</p> - -<p>So saying, I stepped without the door of the cabin, and, looking up to -the clear, cold moon and the way-off stars, I smiled, even in my -bitterness, for I imagined I could see her emancipated soul soaring away -on its new-made wings, to the land forever flowing with milk and honey. -She had often in her earth-pilgrimage, as many tried martyrs had done -before her, fainted by the wayside; but then was she not sorely tempted, -and did not a life of captivity and seven-fold agony, atone for all her -short-comings? Besides, we are divinely informed that where little is -given, little is required. In view of this sacred assurance, let not the -sceptic reader think that my faith was stretched to an unwarranted -degree. Yes, I did and <i>do</i> think that she was at that moment and is now -happy. If not, how am I to account for the strange feeling of peace that -settled over my mind and heart, when I thought of her! For a holy, -heavenly calm, like the dropping of a prophet's mantle, overspread my -heart; a cool sense of ease, refreshing as the night dew, and sustaining -as the high stars, seemed to gird me round!</p> - -<p>I did not heed the cold air, but walked out a few rods in the direction -of the out-house, where Lindy was confined. "Yonder,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> I soliloquized, -"perishing for a kind word, lies a poor outcast, wretched being. I will -go to her, bury all thoughts of the past, and speak one kind word of -encouragement."</p> - -<p>As I drew near to the "lock-up," the moon that had been sailing swift -and high through the heaven, passed beneath the screen of a dark cloud. -I paused in my steps and looked up to the sky. "Such," I thought, "is -the transit of a human soul across the vault of life; beneath clouds and -shadows the serene face is often hidden, and the spirit's mellow light -is often, by affliction, obscured from view."</p> - -<p>Just then a sob of anguish fell upon my ear. I knew it was Lindy, and -moved hastily forward; but, light as was my foot-fall, it aroused the -sentinel-dog, and, with a loud bark, he sprang toward me. "Down, Cuff! -down!" said I, addressing the dog, who, as soon as he recognized me, -crouched lovingly at my feet. Just then the moon glided with a queenly -air from behind the clouds. "So," I said, "passeth the soul, with the -same Diana-like sweep, from the heavy fold and curtain of human sorrow." -Another moan, deeper and more fearful than the first! I was close beside -the door of the "lock-up," and, cowering down, with my mouth close to -the crevice, I called Lindy. "Who's dar? who's dar? For de love of -heaven somebody come to me," said Lindy, in a half-frantic tone.</p> - -<p>"'Tis I, Lindy, don't you know my voice?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, it's Ann! Oh, please, Ann, help me outen here. I's seen such orful -sights and hearn sich dreful sounds, I'd be a slave all my born days -jist to git way frum here. Oh, Ann, I's seed a <i>speerit</i>," and then she -gave such a fearful shriek, that I felt my flesh grow cold and stony as -death. Yet I knew it was my duty to appear calm, and try to persuade her -that it was not true or real.</p> - -<p>"Oh, no, Lindy, you must not be frightened; only hope and trust in God, -and pray to Him. He will take you away from all this trouble. He loves -you. He cares for you, for 'twas He who made you, Your soul is precious -to Him. Oh, try to pray."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p><p>"Oh, but, Ann, I doesn't know how to pray. I never seed God, and I is -afraid of Him. He might be like master."</p> - -<p>This was fearful ignorance, and how to begin to teach her the way to -believe was above my ability; yet I knew that every soul was precious to -God; so I made an endeavor to do all I could in the way of instruction.</p> - -<p>"Say, Our Father, who art in heaven," Lindy.</p> - -<p>"Our Father, who art in heaven," she repeated in a slow, nervous manner.</p> - -<p>"Hallowed be Thy name." Again she repeated, and so on we prayed, she -following accurately after me, though the heavy door separated us. Think -ye not, oh, gentle reader, that this prayer was heard above? Never did -words come more truly from my heart; and with a low moan, they rung -plaintively upon the still, moonlit air! I could tell, from the fervent -tone in which Lindy followed, that her whole soul was engaged. When the -final amen had been said, she asked, "Ann, what's to become of me?"</p> - -<p>I evaded her by saying, "how can I know what master will do?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, but haven't you heard? Oh, don't fool me, Ann, but tell me all."</p> - -<p>For a moment I hesitated, then said: "Yes, Lindy, I'll deal fairly with -you. I have heard that master intends selling you to-morrow to a trader, -whom he went to see to-day; and, if the trader is satisfied with you -to-morrow, the bargain will be closed."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Lord! oh, Lord!" she groaned forth, "oh, is I gwine down de ribber? -Oh, Lord, kill me right now; but don't send me to dat dreful place, down -de ribber, down de ribber!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, trust in the Lord, and He will protect you. Down the river can't be -much worse than here, maybe not so bad. For my part, Lindy, I would -rather be sold and run the risk of getting a good master, than remain -here where we are treated worse than dogs."</p> - -<p>"Oh, dar isn't no sort ob hope ob my gitten any better home<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> den dis -here one; den I knows you all, and way off dar 'mong strange black -folks, oh, no, I never can go; de Lord hab marcy on me."</p> - -<p>This begging of the poor negroes to the Lord to have mercy on them, -though frequent, has no particular significance. It is more a plaint of -agony than a cry for actual mercy; and, in Lindy's case, it most -assuredly only expressed her grief, for she had no ripe faith in the -power and willingness of Our Father to send mercy to her. Religion she -believed consisted in going to church every Sunday twice; consequently -it was a luxury, which, like all luxuries, must be monopolized by the -whites. From the very depths of my heart I prayed that the light of -Divine grace might shine in upon her darkened intellect. Soul of Faith, -verily art thou soul of beauty! And though, as a special gift, faith is -not withheld from the lowliest, the most ignorant, yet does its -possession give to the poorest and most degraded Ethiopian a divine -consciousness, an inspiration, that as to what is grandest in the soul -exalts him above the noblest of poets.</p> - -<p>Whilst talking to Lindy, I was surprised to hear the muffled sound of an -approaching footstep. Noiselessly I was trying to creep away, when young -master said in a low voice:</p> - -<p>"Is this you, Ann? Wait a moment. Have you spoken to Lindy? Have you -told her—"</p> - -<p>He did not finish the sentence, and I answered,</p> - -<p>"Yes, I have told her that she is to be sold, and to a trader."</p> - -<p>"Is she willing?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir, she has a great terror of down the river."</p> - -<p>"That is the way with them all, yet her condition, so far as treatment -is concerned, may be bettered, certainly it cannot be made worse."</p> - -<p>"Will you speak to her, young Master, and reconcile her to her -situation?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I will do all I can."</p> - -<p>"And now I will go and stay with the corpse of dear Aunt Polly;" here I -found it impossible to restrain my tears, and,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> convulsed with emotion, -I seated myself upon the ground with my back against the door of the -lock-up.</p> - -<p>"Dead? dead? Aunt Polly dead?" he asked in a bewildered tone.</p> - -<p>"Yes, young Master, I found her dead, and with every appearance of -having had a severe struggle."</p> - -<p>I then told him about the leeching process, how the doctor had acted, -&c.</p> - -<p>"Murdered! She was most cruelly murdered!" he murmured to himself.</p> - -<p>In the excitement of conversation he had elevated his tone a good deal, -and the fearful news reached the ears of Lindy, and she shrieked out,</p> - -<p>"Is Aunt Polly dead? Oh, tell me, for I thinks I sees her sperit now."</p> - -<p>Then such entreaties as she made to get out were agonizing to hear.</p> - -<p>"Oh, if you can't let me out, don't leave me! Oh, don't leave me, Ann! I -is so orful skeered. I do see such terrible sights, and it 'pears like -when you is here talking, dem orful things don't come arter me."</p> - -<p>"You go, Ann, and watch with Aunt Polly's body; I will stay here with -this poor creature."</p> - -<p>"What, you, young master; no, no, you shall not, it will kill you. Your -cough will increase, and it might prove fatal. No, I will stay here."</p> - -<p>"But who will watch with Aunt Polly?"</p> - -<p>"I will awaken Amy, and make her keep guard."</p> - -<p>"No, she is too young, lacks nerve, will be frightened; besides, you -must not be found here in the morning. You would be severely punished -for it. Go now, good Ann, and leave me here."</p> - -<p>"No, young master, I cannot leave you to what I am sure will be certain -death."</p> - -<p>"That would be no misfortune to me."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p><p>And I shall never forget the calm and half-glorified expression of his -face, as he pronounced these words.</p> - -<p>"Go, Ann," he continued, "leave me to watch and pray beside this forlorn -creature, and, if the Angel of Death spreads his wings on this midnight -blast, I think I should welcome him; for life, with its broken promises -and its cold humanity, sickens me—oh so much."</p> - -<p>And his beautiful head fell languidly on his breast; and again I -listened to that low, husky cough. To-night it had an unusual sound, -and, forgetful of the humble relation in which I stood to him, I grasped -his arm firmly but lovingly, saying,</p> - -<p>"Hark to that cough! Now you <i>must</i> go in."</p> - -<p>"No, I cannot. I know best; besides, since nothing less gentle will do, -I needs must use authority, and command you to go."</p> - -<p>"I would that you did not exercise your authority against yourself."</p> - -<p>But he waved me off. Reluctantly I obeyed him. Again I entered the cabin -and roused Amy, who slept on a pallet or heap of straw at the foot of -the bed, where the still, unbreathing form of my old friend lay. It was -difficult to awake her, for she was always wearied at night, and slept -with that deep soundness peculiar to healthful childhood; but, after -various shakes, I contrived to make her open her eyes and speak to me.</p> - -<p>"Come Amy," I said, "rouse, I want you to help me."</p> - -<p>"In what way and what fur you wake me up?" she said as she sat upright -on the straw, and began rubbing her eyes.</p> - -<p>"Never mind, but you get up and I will tell you."</p> - -<p>When she was fairly awake, she assisted me in lifting in a large tub of -water.</p> - -<p>"Oh, is Aunt Polly any sicker?" she inquired.</p> - -<p>"Amy, she is dead."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Lord, den I ain't gwine to hope you, bekase I's afeared ob a dead -body."</p> - -<p>"It can't harm you."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p><p>"Yes it ken; anyhow, I is feared ob it, and I ain't gwine to hope you."</p> - -<p>"Well, you need not touch her, only sit up with me whilst I wash her and -dress her nicely."</p> - -<p>"Well, I'll do dat much."</p> - -<p>Accordingly, she crouched down in the corner and concealed her face with -her hands, whilst I proceeded to wash the body thoroughly and dress it -out in an old faded calico, which, in life, had constituted her finest -robe. Bare and undecked, but clean, appeared that tabernacle of flesh, -which had once enshrined a tried but immortal spirit. When all was -finished, I seated myself near the partly-opened door, and waited for -the coming of day. Ah, when was the morn of glad freedom to break for me?</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> - -<p class="center">SYMPATHY CASTETH OUT FEAR—CONSEQUENCE OF THE NIGHT'S WATCH—TROUBLED -REFLECTIONS.</p> - -<p>Morn did break, bright and clear, over the face of the sleeping earth! -It was a still and blessed hour. Man, hushed from his rushing activity, -lay reposeful in the arms of "Death's counterfeit—sleep." All animated -nature was quiet and calm, till, suddenly, a gush of melody broke from -the clear throats of the wildwood birds and made the air vocal. Another -day was dawning; another day born to witness sins and cruelties the most -direful. Do we not often wonder why the sky can smile so blue and -lovingly, when such outrages are enacted beneath it? But I must not -anticipate.</p> - -<p>As soon as the sun had fairly risen I knocked at the house-door, which -was opened by Miss Bradly, whose languid face and crumpled dress, proved -that she had taken no rest during the night. Bidding her a polite -good-morning, I inquired if the ladies had risen? She answered that they -were still asleep, and had rested well during the night. I next inquired -for master's health.</p> - -<p>"Oh," said she, "I think he is well, quite well again. He slept soundly. -I think he only suffered from a violent and sudden mental excitement. A -good night's rest, and a sedative that I administered, have restored -him; but <i>to-day</i>, oh, <i>to-day</i>, how I do dread to-day."</p> - -<p>To the latter part of this speech I made no answer; for, of late, I had -learned to distrust her. Even if her belief was right, I could not -recognize her as one heroic enough to promulgate it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> from the -house-tops. I saw in her only a weak, servile soul, drawn down from the -lofty purpose of philanthropy, seduced by the charm of "vile lucre." -Therefore I observed a rigid silence. Feeling a little embarrassed, I -began playing with the strings of my apron, for I was fearful that the -expression of my face might betray what was working in my mind.</p> - -<p>"What is the matter, Ann?"</p> - -<p>This recalled the tragedy that had occurred in the cabin, and I said, in -a faltering tone,</p> - -<p>"Death has been among us. Poor Aunt Polly is gone."</p> - -<p>"Is it possible? When did she die? Poor old creature!"</p> - -<p>"She died some time before midnight. When I left the house I was -surprised to find her still sleeping, so I thought perhaps she was too -sluggish, and, upon attempting to arouse her, I discovered that she was -dead!"</p> - -<p>"Why did you not come and inform me? I would have assisted you in the -last sad offices."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I did not like to disturb you. I did everything very well myself."</p> - -<p>"Johnny and I sat up all night; that is, I suppose he was up, though he -left the room a little after midnight, and has not since returned. I -should not wonder if he has been walking the better part of the night. -He so loves solitude and the night-time—but then," she added, musingly -"he has a bad cough, and it may be dangerous. The night was chilly, the -atmosphere heavy. What if this imprudence should rapidly develop a -fearful disease?" She seemed much concerned.</p> - -<p>"I will go," said she, "and search for him;" but ere these words had -fairly died upon her lips, we were startled by a cough, and, looking up, -we beheld the subject of our conversation within a few steps of us. Oh, -how wretchedly he was changed! It appeared as if the wreck of years had -been accomplished in the brief space of a night. Haggard and pale, with -his eyes roving listlessly, dark purple lines of unusual depth -surrounding them, and with his bright, gold hair, heavy with the dew, -and hanging neglected around his noble head,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> even his clear, pearl-like -complexion appeared dark and discolored.</p> - -<p>"Where have you been, Johnny?" asked Miss Bradly.</p> - -<p>"To commune with the lonely and comfort the bound; at the door of the -'lock-up,' our miniature Bastile, I have spent the night." Here -commenced a paroxysm of coughing, so violent that he was obliged to seat -himself upon the door-sill.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Johnny," exclaimed the terrified lady.</p> - -<p>But as he attempted to check her fears, another paroxysm, still more -frightful, took place, and this time the blood gushed copiously from his -mouth. Miss Bradly threw her arms tenderly around him, and, after a -succession of rapid gushes of blood, his head fell languidly on her -shoulder, like a pale, broken lily!</p> - -<p>I instantly ran to call up the ladies, when master approached from his -chamber; seeing young master lying so pale, cold, and insensible in the -arms of Miss Bradly, he concluded he was dead, and, crying out in a -frantic tone, he asked,</p> - -<p>"In h—l's name, what has happened to my boy?"</p> - -<p>"He has had a violent hemorrhage," replied Miss Bradly, with an -ill-disguised composure.</p> - -<p>The sight of the blood, which lay in puddles and clots over the steps, -increased the terror of the father, and, frantically seizing his boy in -his arms, he covered the still, pale face with kisses.</p> - -<p>"Oh, my boy! my boy! how much you are like <i>her</i>! This is her mouth, -eyes, and nose, and now you 'pears jist like she did when I seed her -last. These limbs are stiff and frozen. It can't be death; no, it can't -be. I haven't killed you, too—say, Miss Bradly, is he dead?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir, only exhausted from the violence of the paroxysm, and the -copious hemorrhage, but he requires immediate medical treatment; send, -promptly, for Dr. Mandy."</p> - -<p>Master turned to me, saying,</p> - -<p>"Gal, go order Jake to mount the swiftest horse, and ride<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> for life and -death to Dr. Mandy; tell him to come instantly, my son is dying."</p> - -<p>I obeyed, and, with all possible promptitude, the message was -dispatched. Oh, how different when <i>his</i> son was ill. Then you could see -that human life was valuable; had it been a negro, he would have waited -until after breakfast before sending for a doctor.</p> - -<p>Mr. Peterkin bore his son into the house, placed him on the bed, and, -seating himself beside him, watched with a tenderness that I did not -think belonged to his harsh nature.</p> - -<p>In a very short time Jake returned with Dr. Mandy, who, after feeling -young master's pulse, sounding his chest, and applying the stethescope, -said that he feared it was an incipient form of lung-fever. We had much -cause for apprehension. There was a perplexed expression upon the face -of the doctor, a tremulousness in his motions, which indicated that he -was in great fear and doubt as to the case. He left some powders, to be -administered every hour, and, after various and repeated injunctions to -Miss Bradly, who volunteered to nurse the patient, he left the house.</p> - -<p>After taking the first powder, young master lay in a deep, unbroken -sleep. As I stood by his bedside I saw how altered he was. The cheek, -which, when he was walking, had seemed round and full, was now shrunk -and hollow, and a fiery spot burned there like a living coal; and the -dark, purple ring that encircled the eyes, and the sharp contraction of -the thin nostril, were to me convincing omens of the grave. Then, too, -the anxious, care-written face of Miss Bradly tended to deepen my -apprehension. How my friends were falling around me! Now, just when I -was beginning to live, came the fell destroyer of my happiness. -Happiness? Oh, does it not seem a mockery for the slave to employ that -word? As if he had anything to do with it! The slave, who owns nothing, -ay, literally nothing. His wife and children are all his master's. His -very wearing apparel becomes another's. He has no right to use it, save -as he is advised by his owner. Go, my kind reader, to the hotels<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> of the -South and South-west, look at the worn and dejected countenances of the -slaves, and tell me if you do not read misery there. Look in at the -saloons of the restaurants, coffee-houses, &c., at late hours of the -night; there you will see them, tired, worn and weary, with their aching -heads bandaged up, sighing for a few moments' sleep. There the proud, -luxurious, idle whites sip their sherbets, drink wine, and crack their -everlasting jokes, but there must stand your obsequious slave, with a -smile on his face, waiter in hand, ready to attend to "Master's -slightest wish." No matter if his tooth is aching, or his child dying, -he must smile, or be flogged for gruffness. This "chattel personal," -though he bear the erect form of a man, has no right to any privileges -or emotions. Oh, nation of the free, how long shall this be? Poor, -suffering Africa, country of my sires, how much longer upon thy bleeding -shoulders must the cross be pressed! Is there no tomb where, for a short -space, thou shalt lie, and then, bursting the bonds of night and death, -spring up free, redeemed and regenerate?</p> - -<p>"Oh, will he die?" I murmured, "he who reconciles me to my bondage, who -is my only friend? Another affliction I cannot bear; I've been so tried -in the furnace, that I have not strength to meet another."</p> - -<p>Those thoughts passed through my brain as I stood beside young master; -but the entrance of Mr. Peterkin diverted them, and, stepping up to him, -I said, "Master, Aunt Polly is dead."</p> - -<p>"You lie!" he thundered out.</p> - -<p>"No, Mr. Peterkin, the old woman is really dead," said Miss Bradly, in a -kind but mournful tone.</p> - -<p>"Who killed her?" again he thundered.</p> - -<p>Ay, who did kill her? Could I not have answered, "Thou art the man"? But -I did not. Silently I stood before him, never daring to trust myself -with a word.</p> - -<p>"What time did she kick the bucket?" asked Mr. Peterkin, in one of the -favorite Kentucky vulgarisms, whereby the most solemn and awful debt of -nature is ridiculed by the unthinking.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p><p>I told him how I had found her, what I had done, &c., all of which is -known to the reader.</p> - -<p>"I believe h—l is loose among the niggers. Now, here's Poll had to die -bekase she couldn't cut any other caper. I might have made a sight o' -money by her sale; and she, old fool, had to cut me outen it. Wal, I'll -only have to sell some of the others, fur I's bound to make up a sartin -sum of money to pay to some of my creditors in L——."</p> - -<p>This speech was addressed to Miss Bradly, upon whom it made not half the -impression that it did upon me. How I hoped I should be one, for if -young master, as I began to believe, should die soon, the place would -become to me more horrible than a tiger's den. Any change was desirable.</p> - -<p>When the young ladies rose from their beds I went in to attend on them, -and communicated the news of young master's illness and Aunt Polly's -death. For their brother they expressed much concern, but the faithful -old domestic, who had served them so long, was of no more consequence -than a dog. Miss Jane did seem provoked to think that she "had died on -their hands," as she expressed it. "If pa had sold her months ago, we -might have had the money, or something valuable, but now we must go to -the expense of furnishing her with a coffin."</p> - -<p>"Coffin! hoity-toity! Father's not going to give her a coffin, an old -store-box is good enough to put her old carcass in." And thus they spoke -of one of God's dead.</p> - -<p>Usually persons respect those upon whom death has set his ghastly -signet; but these barbarians (for such I think they must have been) -spoke with an irreverence of one whose body lay still and cold, only few -steps from them. To some people no thing or person is sacred.</p> - -<p>After breakfast I waited in great anxiety to hear how and when master -intended to have Aunt Polly buried.</p> - -<p>I had gone into the little desolate cabin, which was now consecrated by -the presence of the dead. There <i>she</i> lay, cold and ashen; and the long -white strip that I had thrown over her was too thin to conceal the face. -It was an old muslin curtain that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> I had found in looking over the boxes -of the deceased, and out of respect had flung it over the remains. So -rigid and hard-set seemed her features in that last, deep sleep, so -tightly locked were those bony fingers, so mournful looked the -straightened, stiffened form, so devoid of speculation the half-closed -eyes, that I turned away with a shudder, saying inwardly:</p> - -<p>"Oh, death, thou art revolting!" Yet when I bethought me of the peace -passing human understanding into which she had gone, the safe bourne -that she had attained, "where the wicked cease from troubling and the -weary are at rest;" when I thought of this, death lost its horror, and -the grave its gloom. Oh, Eternity, problem that the living can never -solve. Oh, death, full of victory to the Christian! wast thou not, to my -old and weary friend, a messenger of sweet peace; and was not the tomb a -gateway to new and undreamed-of happiness? Yes, so will I believe; for -so believing am I made joyful.</p> - -<p>Relieved thus by faith from the burden of grief, I moved gently about -the room, trying to bring something like order to its ragged appearance; -for Jake, who had been dispatched for Doctor Mandy to come and see young -master, had met on the way a colored preacher, to whom he announced Aunt -Polly's death, and who had promised to come and preach a funeral sermon, -and attend the burial. This was to the other negroes a great treat; they -regarded a funeral as quite a gala occasion, inasmuch as we had never -had such a thing upon the farm. I had my own doubts, though I did not -express them, whether master would permit it.</p> - -<p>Young master still slept, from the strong effects of the sleeping potion -which had been administered to him. Miss Bradly, overcome by the night's -watching, dozed in a large chair beside the bed, and an open Bible, in -which she had been reading, lay upon her lap. The blinds were closed, -but the dim light of a small fire that blazed on the hearth gave some -appearance of life to the room. Every one who passed in and out, stepped -on tip-toe, as if fearful of arousing the sleeper.</p> - -<p>Oh, the comfort of a white skin! No darkened room, no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> comfortable air, -marked the place where she my friend had died. No hushed dread nor -whispered voice paid respect to the cabin-room where lay her dead body; -but, thanks to God, in the morning of the resurrection we shall come -forth alike, regardless of the distinctions of color or race, each one -to render a faithful account of the deeds done in the body.</p> - -<p>Mr. Peterkin came to the kitchen-door, and called Nace, saying:</p> - -<p>"Where is that old store-box that the goods and domestics for the house -was fetched home in, from L——, last fall?"</p> - -<p>"It's in de smoke-house, Masser."</p> - -<p>"Wal, go git it, and bury ole Poll in it."</p> - -<p>"It's right dirty and greasy, Master," I ventured to say.</p> - -<p>"Who keres if 'tis? What right has you to speak, slut?" and he gave me a -violent kick in the side with his rough brogan.</p> - -<p>"Take that for yer imperdence. Who tole you to put yer mouth in?"</p> - -<p>Nace and Dan soon produced the box, which had no top, and was dirty and -greasy, as it well might be from its year's lodgment in the meat-house.</p> - -<p>"Now, go dig a hole and put Poll in it."</p> - -<p>As master was turning away, he was met by a neatly-dressed black man, -who wore a white muslin cravat and white cotton gloves, and carried two -books in his hand. He had an humble, reverent expression, and I readily -recognized him as the free colored preacher of the neighborhood—a good, -religious man, God-fearing and God-serving. No one knew or could say -aught against him. How I did long to speak to him; to sit at his feet as -a disciple, and learn from him heavenly truths.</p> - -<p>As master turned round, the preacher, with a polite air, took off his -hat, saying:</p> - -<p>"Your servant, Master."</p> - -<p>"What do you want, nigger?"</p> - -<p>"Why, Master, I heard that one of your servants was dead, and I come to -ask your leave to convene the friends in a short prayer-meeting, if you -will please let us."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p><p>"No, I be d——d if you shall, you rascally free nigger; if you don't -git yourself off my place, I'll git my cowhide to you. I wants none of -yer tom-foolery here."</p> - -<p>"I beg Master's pardon, but I meant no harm. I generally go to see the -sick, and hold prayer over the dead."</p> - -<p>"You doesn't do it here; and now take your dirty black hide away, or it -will be the worse for you."</p> - -<p>Without saying one word, the mortified preacher, who had meant well, -turned away. I trust he did as the apostles of old were bidden by their -Divine Master to do, "shook the dust from his feet against that house." -Oh, coarse and sense-bound man, you refused entertainment to an "angel, -unawares."</p> - -<p>"Well, I sent that prayin' rascal a flyin' quick enough;" and with this -self-gratulatory remark, he entered the house.</p> - -<p>Nace and Jake carried the box into the cabin, preceded by me.</p> - -<p>Most reverently I laid away the muslin from the face and form; and -lifting the head, while Nace assisted at the feet, we attempted to place -the body in the box, but found it impossible, as the box was much too -short. Upon Nace's representing this difficulty to Mr. Peterkin, he only -replied:</p> - -<p>"Wal, bury her on a board, without any more foolin' 'bout it."</p> - -<p>This harsh mandate was obeyed to the letter. With great expedition, Nace -and Jake dug a hole in the earth, and laid a few planks at the bottom, -upon which I threw an old quilt, and on that hard bed they laid her. -Good and faithful servant, even in death thou wast not allowed a bed! -Over the form I spread a covering, and the men laid a few planks, -box-fashion, over that, and then began roughly throwing on the fresh -earth. "Dust to dust," I murmured, and, with a secret prayer, turned -from her unmarked resting-place. Mr. Peterkin expressly ordered that it -should not have a grave shape, and so it was patted and smoothed down, -until, save for the moisture and fresh color of the earth, you could not -have known that the ground had ever been broken.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XX.</h2> - -<p class="center">THE TRADER—A TERRIBLE FRIGHT—POWER OF PRAYER—GRIEF OF THE HELPLESS.</p> - -<p>About noon a gaudily-dressed and rough-looking man rode up to the gate, -and alighted from a fine bay horse. With that free and easy sort of way -so peculiar to a <i>certain class</i> of mankind, he walked up the avenue to -the front door.</p> - -<p>"Gal," he said, addressing me, "whar's yer master?"</p> - -<p>"In the house. Will you walk in?"</p> - -<p>"No, it is skersely worth while; jist tell him that me, Bill Tompkins, -wants to see him; but stay," he added, as I was turning to seek my -master, "is you the gal he sold to me yesterday?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know, sir."</p> - -<p>"Wal, you is devilish likely. Put out yer foot. Wal, it is nice enuff to -belong to a white 'ooman. You is a bright-colored mulatto. I <i>must</i> have -you."</p> - -<p>"Heavens! I hope not," was my half-uttered expression, as I turned away, -for I had caught the meaning of that lascivious eye, and shrank from the -threatened danger. Though I had been cruelly treated, yet had I been -allowed to retain my person inviolate; and I would rather, a -thousand-fold, have endured the brutality of Mr. Peterkin, than those -loathsome looks which I felt betokened ruin.</p> - -<p>"Master, a man, calling himself Bill Tompkins, wishes to see you," said -I, as I entered his private apartment.</p> - -<p>"Can't yer say Mr. Tompkins?"</p> - -<p>"He told me to tell you Bill Tompkins; I only repeat his words."</p> - -<p>"Whar is he?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p><p>"At the front door."</p> - -<p>"Didn't yer ax him in, hussy?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir, but he refused, saying it was not worth while."</p> - -<p>"Oh," thought I, when left alone, "am I sold to that monster? Am I to -become so utterly degraded? No, no; rather than yield my purity I will -give up my life, and trust to God to pardon the suicide."</p> - -<p>In this state of mind I wandered up and down the yard, into the kitchen, -into the cabin, into the room where young master lay sleeping, into the -presence of the young ladies, and out again into the air; yet my -curious, feverish restlessness, could not be allayed. A trader was in -the house—a bold, obscene man, and into his possession I might fall! -Oh, happy indeed must be those who feel that he or they have the -exclusive custody of their own persons; but the poor negro has nothing, -not even—save in rare cases—the liberty of choosing a home.</p> - -<p>I had not dared, since daylight, to go near the "lock-up," for a fearful -punishment would have been due the one whom Mr. Peterkin found loitering -there.</p> - -<p>I was so tortured by apprehension, that my eyes burned and my head -ached. I had heard master say that the unlooked-for death of Aunt Polly -would force him to sell some of the other slaves, in order to realize a -certain sum of money, and Tompkins had expressed a desire for me. It was -likely that he would offer a good price; then should I be lost. Oh, -heavenly Virtue! do not desert me! Let me bear up under the fiercest -trials!</p> - -<p>I had wandered about, in this half-crazed manner, never daring to -venture within "ear-shot" of master and Mr. Tompkins, fearing that the -latter might, upon a second sight of me, have the fire of his wicked -passions aroused, and then my fate would be sealed.</p> - -<p>I determined to hide in the cabin, to pray there, in the room that had -been hallowed by the presence of God's angel of Death; but there, -cowering on the old brick hearth, like a hen with her brood of chickens, -I found, to my surprise, Amy, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> little Ben in her arms, and the two -girls crouched close to her side, evidently feeling that her presence -was sufficient to protect them.</p> - -<p>"Lor', Ann," said Amy, her wide eyes stretched to their utmost tension, -"thar is a trader talkin' wid Masser; I won'er whose gwine to be sole. I -hope tain't us."</p> - -<p>I didn't dare reply to her. I feared for myself, and I feared for her.</p> - -<p>Kneeling down in the corner of the cabin, I besought mercy of the -All-merciful; but somehow, my prayers fell back cold upon my heart. God -seemed a great way off, and I could not realize the presence of angels. -"Oh," I cried, "for the uplifting faith that hath so often blest me! oh -for the hopefulness, the trustingness of times past! Why, why is the -gate of heaven shut against me? Why am I thus self-bound? Oh, for a -wider, broader and more liberal view!" But I could not pray. Great God! -had that last and only soul-stay been taken from me? With a black -hopelessness gathering at my heart, I arose from my knees, and looked -round upon those desolate orphans, shrinking terror-stricken, hiding -away from the merciless pursuit of a giant; and then I bethought me of -my own desolation, and I almost arraigned the justice of Heaven. Most -wise Father! pardon me! Thou, who wast tempted by Satan, and to whom the -cup of mortality was bitter, pity me and forgive!</p> - -<p>Turning away from the presence of those pleading children I entered the -kitchen, and there were Jake and Dan, terror written on their strong, -hard faces; for, no matter how hard is the negro's present master, he -always regards a change of owners as entailing new dangers; and no -wonder that, from education and experience, he is thus suspicious, for -so many troubles have come and do come upon him, that he cannot imagine -a change whereby he is to be benefited.</p> - -<p>"Has you hearn anything, Ann?" asked Dan, with his great flabby lips -hanging loosely open, and his eyes considerably distended.</p> - -<p>"Nothing."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p><p>"Who's gwine to be sole?" asked Jake.</p> - -<p>"I don't know?"</p> - -<p>"Hope tisn't me."</p> - -<p>"And hope tisn't me," burst from the lips of both of them, and to this -my heart gave a fervent though silent echo.</p> - -<p>"He is de one dat's bought Lindy," said old Nace, who now entered, "and -Masser's gwine to sell some de rest ob yer."</p> - -<p>"Why do yer say de rest ob yer? Why mayn't it be you?" asked Dan.</p> - -<p>"Bekase he ain't gwine to sell me, ha! ha! I sarved him too long fur -dat."</p> - -<p>Ginsy and Sally came rushing in, frightened, like all the rest, -exclaiming,</p> - -<p>"Oh, we's in danger; a nigger-trader is talkin' wid master."</p> - -<p>We had no time for prolonged speculation, for the voice of Mr. Peterkin -was heard in the entry, and, throwing open the door, he entered, -followed by Tompkins.</p> - -<p>"Here's the gang, and a devilish good-lookin' set they is."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but let me fust see the one I have bought."</p> - -<p>"Here, Nace," said master, "take this key, and tell Lindy to dress -herself and come here." The last part of this sentence was said in an -under-tone.</p> - -<p>In terror I fled from the kitchen. Scarcely knowing what I did, I rushed -into the young ladies' room, into which Nace had conducted Lindy, upon -whom they were placing some of their old finery. A half-worn calico -dress, gingham apron and white collar, completed the costume. I never -shall forget the expression of Lindy's face, as she looked vacantly -around her, hunting for sympathy, yet finding none, from the cold, -haughty faces that gazed upon her.</p> - -<p>"Now go," said Miss Jane, "and try to behave yourself in your new home."</p> - -<p>"Good-bye, Miss Jane," said the humbled, weeping negro.</p> - -<p>"Good-bye," was coldly answered; but no hand was extended to her.</p> - -<p>"Good-bye, Miss Tildy."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p><p>Miss Tildy, who was standing at the glass arranging her hair, never -turned round to look upon the poor wretch, but carelessly said,</p> - -<p>"Good-bye."</p> - -<p>She looked toward me; her lip was quivering and tears were rolling down -her cheeks. I turned my head away, and she walked off with the farewell -unspoken.</p> - -<p>Quickly I heard Jake calling for me. Then I knew that my worst fears -were on the point of realization. With a timid, hesitating step, I -walked to the kitchen. There, ranged in single file, stood the servants, -with anxious faces, where a variety of contending feelings were written. -I nerved myself for what I knew was to follow, and stepping firmly up, -joined the phalanx.</p> - -<p>"That's the one," said Tompkins, as he eyed me with that <i>same</i> look. -There he stood, twirling a heavy bunch of seals which depended from a -large, curiously-wrought chain. He looked more like a fiend than a -<i>man</i>.</p> - -<p>"This here one is your'n," said Mr. Peterkin, pointing to Lindy; "and, -gal, that gentleman is yer master."</p> - -<p>Lindy dropped a courtesy to him, and tried to wipe away her tears; for -experience had taught her that the only safe course was to stifle -emotions.</p> - -<p>"Here, gal, open yer mouth," Tompkins said to Lindy. She obeyed.</p> - -<p>"Now let me feel yer arms."</p> - -<p>He then examined her feet, ankles, legs, passed his hands over various -parts of her body, made her walk and move her limbs in different ways, -and then, seemingly satisfied with the bargain, said,</p> - -<p>"Wal, that trade is closed."</p> - -<p>Looking toward me, his dissolute eyes began to glare furiously. Again my -soul quailed; but I tried to govern myself, and threw upon him a glance -as cold as ice itself.</p> - -<p>"What will you take for this yallow gal?" he said, as he laid his hand -upon my shoulder. I shrank beneath his touch; yet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> resistance would only -have made the case worse, and I was compelled to submit.</p> - -<p>"I ain't much anxious to sell her; she is my darter Jane's waitin' -'ooman, and, you see, my darters are putty much stuck up. They thinks -they must have a waitin'-maid; but, if you offer a far price, maybe we -will close in."</p> - -<p>"Wal, as she is a fancy article, I'll jist say take twelve hundred -dollars, and that's more an' she's actilly worth; but I wants her fur my -<i>own use</i>; a sorter private gal like, you knows," and he gave a -lascivious blink, which Mr. Peterkin seemed to understand. I felt a deep -crimson suffuse my face. Oh, God! this was the heaviest of all -afflictions. <i>Sold!</i> and for <i>such a purpose</i>!</p> - -<p>"I reckon the bargain is closed, then," said Mr. Peterkin.</p> - -<p>I felt despair coiling around my heart. Yet I knew that to make an -appeal to their humanity would be worse than idle.</p> - -<p>"Who, which of them have you sold, father?" asked Miss Jane, who entered -the kitchen, doubtless for the humane object of witnessing the distress -of the poor creatures.</p> - -<p>"Wal, Lindy's sold, and we are 'bout closing the bargain for Ann."</p> - -<p>"Why, Ann belongs to me."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but Tompkins offers twelve hundred dollars; and six hundred of it -you shill have to git new furniture."</p> - -<p>"She shan't go for six thousand. I want an accomplished maid when I go -up to the city, and she just suits me. Remember I have your deed of -gift."</p> - -<p>This relieved me greatly, for I understood her determination; and, -though I knew all sorts of severity would be exercised over me in my -present home, I felt assured that my honor would remain unstained.</p> - -<p>The trader tried to persuade and coax Miss Jane; but she remained -impervious to all of his importunities.</p> - -<p>"Wal, then," he said, after finding she would yield to no argument, -"haven't you none others you can let me have? I am 'bliged to fill up my -lot."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p><p>"Wal, since my darter won't trade nohow, I must try and let you have -some of the others, though I don't care much 'bout sellin'."</p> - -<p>Mr. Peterkin was what was called tight on a trade; now, though he was -anxious enough to sell, he affected to be perfectly indifferent. This -was what would be termed an excellent ruse de guerre.</p> - -<p>"If you want children, I think we can supply you," said Miss Jane, and, -looking round, she asked,</p> - -<p>"Where are Amy and her sisters?"</p> - -<p>My heart sank within me, and, though I knew full well where they were, I -would not speak.</p> - -<p>Little Jim, the son of Ginsy, cried out,</p> - -<p>"Yes, I know where dey is. I seed em in dar."</p> - -<p>"Well, run you young rascal, and tell 'em to come here in a minnit," -said Mr. Peterkin; and away the boy scampered. In a few moments he -returned, followed by Amy, who was bearing Ben in her arms; and, holding -on to her skirts, were the two girls, terror limned on their dark, -shining faces.</p> - -<p>"Step up here to this gentleman, Amy, and say how would you like him for -a master?" said Mr. Peterkin.</p> - -<p>"Please, sir," replied Amy, "I don't kere whar I goes, so I takes these -chillen wid me."</p> - -<p>"I do not want Amy to be sold. Sell the children, father; but let us -keep Amy for a house-girl." Cold and unfeeling looked the lady as she -pronounced these words; but could you have seen the expression of Amy's -face! There is no human language, no painter's power, to show forth the -eye of frantic madness with which the girl glared around on all. -Clutching little Ben tightly, savagely to her bosom, she said no word, -and all seemed struck by the extreme wildness of her manner.</p> - -<p>"Let's look at that boy," said the trader, as he attempted to unfasten -Amy's arms but were locked round her treasure.</p> - -<p>"Dont'ee, dont'ee," shrieked the child.</p> - -<p>"Yes, but he will," said Mr. Peterkin, as, with a giant's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> force, he -broke asunder the slight arms, "you imperdent hussy, arn't you my -property? mine to do what I pleases with; and do you dar' to oppose me?"</p> - -<p>The girl said nothing; but the wild expression began to grow wilder, -fiercer, and more frightful. Little Ben, who was not accustomed to any -kind of notice, and felt at home nowhere except in Amy's arms, set up a -furious scream; but this the trader did not mind, and proceeded to -examine the limbs.</p> - -<p>"Something is the matter with this boy, he's got hip-disease; I knows -from his teeth he is older than you says."</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Amy seizing the idea, "he is weakly, he won't do no good -widout me; buy me too, please, Masser," and she crouched down at the -trader's feet, with her hands thrown up in an air of touching -supplication; but she had gone to the wrong tribunal for mercy. Who can -hope to find so fair a flower blooming amid the dreary brambles of a -negro-trader's breast?</p> - -<p>Tompkins took no other notice of her than to give her a contemptuous -kick, as much as to say, "thing, get out of my way."</p> - -<p>Turning to Mr. Peterkin he said,</p> - -<p>"This boy is not sound. I won't have him at any price," and he handed -him back to Amy, who exclaimed, in a thrilling tone,</p> - -<p>"Thank God! Bless you, Masser!" and she clasped the shy little Ben -warmly to her breast.</p> - -<p>Ben, whose intellect seemed clouded, looked wonderingly around on the -group; then, as if slowly realizing that he had escaped a mighty -trouble, clung closer to Amy.</p> - -<p>"Look here, nigger-wench, does you think to spile the sale of property -in that ar' way? Wal, I'll let you see I'll have things my way. No -nigger that ever was born, shall dictate to me."</p> - -<p>"No, father, I'd punish her well, even if I had to give Ben away; he is -no account here, merely an expense; and do sell those other two girls, -Amy's sisters."</p> - -<p>Mr. Peterkin then called up Lucy and Janey. I have mentioned these two -but rarely in the progress of this book, and for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> the reason that their -little lives were not much interwoven with the thread of mine. I saw -them often, but observed nothing particular about them. They were quiet, -taciturn, and what is usually called stupid children. They, like little -Ben, never ventured far away from Amy's protecting wing. Now, with a shy -step and furtive glance toward the trader, they obeyed their master's -summons. Poor Amy, with Ben clasped to her heart, strained her body -forward, and looked with stretched eyes and suspended breath toward -Tompkins, who was examining them.</p> - -<p>"Wal, I'll give you three hundred and fifty a-piece for 'em. Now, come, -that's the highest I'll give, Peterkin, and you mustn't try to git any -more out of me. You are a hard customer; but I am in a hurry, so I makes -my largest offer right away: I ain't got the time to waste. That's more -'an anybody else would give for 'em; but I sees that they has good -fingers fur to pick cotton, therefore I gives a big price."</p> - -<p>"It's a bargain, then. They is yourn;" and no doubt Mr. Peterkin thought -he had a good bargain, or he never would have chewed his tobacco in that -peculiarly self-satisfied manner.</p> - -<p>"Stand aside, then," said the trader, pushing his new purchases, as if -they were a bundle of dry goods. Running up to Amy, they began to hold -to her skirts and tremble violently, scarcely knowing what the words of -Tompkins implied.</p> - -<p>"Dey ain't sold?" asked Amy, turning first from one to the other; yet no -one answered. Mr. Peterkin and Tompkins were too busy with their trade, -and the negroes too much absorbed in their own fate, to attend to her. -For my part I had not strength to confirm her half-formed doubt. There -she stood, gathering them to her side with a motherly love.</p> - -<p>"What will you give fur this one?" and Mr. Peterkin pointed to Ginsy, -who stood with an humble countenance. When called up she made a low -courtesy, and went through the examination. Name and age were given; a -fair price was offered for her and her child, and was accepted.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p><p>"Take this boy for a hundred dollars," said Mr. Peterkin, as he jerked -Ben from the arms of the half-petrified Amy.</p> - -<p>"Wal, he isn't much 'count; but, rather then seem contrary, I'll give -that fur him."</p> - -<p>And thus the trade was closed. Human beings were disposed of with as -little feeling as if they had been wild animals.</p> - -<p>"I'm sorry you won't, young Miss, let me have that maid of yourn; but -I'll be 'long next fall, and, fur a good price, I 'spect you'll be -willin' to trade. I wants that yallow wench," and he clicked his fingers -at me.</p> - -<p>"Say, Peterkin, ken you lend me a wagen to take 'em over to my pen?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes; and Nace can drive 'em over."</p> - -<p>Conscious of having got a good price, Mr. Peterkin was in a capital -humor.</p> - -<p>"Come, go with me, Peterkin, and we'll draw up the papers, and I'll pay -you your money."</p> - -<p>This was an agreeable sound to master. He ordered Nace to bring out the -wagon, and the order was hardly given before it was obeyed. Dismal -looked that red wagon, the same which years before had carried me away -from the insensible form of my broken-hearted mother. It appeared more -dark and dreary, to me, than a coffin or hearse.</p> - -<p>"Say, Peterkin, don't let 'em take many close; jist a change. It tires -'em too much if they have big bundles to carry."</p> - -<p>"They shan't be troubled with that."</p> - -<p>"Now, niggers, git your bundles and come 'long," said master.</p> - -<p>"Oh," cried Lindy, "can I git to see young master before I start? I -wants to thank him for de comfort he gib me last night," and she wiped -the tears from her eyes, and was starting toward the door of the house, -when Miss Jane intercepted her.</p> - -<p>"No, you runaway hussy, you shan't go in to disturb him, and have a -scene here."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p><p>"Please, Miss Jane, I only wants to say good-bye."</p> - -<p>"You shan't do it."</p> - -<p>Mournfully, and with the tears streaming far down her cheeks, she turned -to me, saying, "Please, you, Ann, tell him good-bye fur me, and good-bye -to you. I hope you will forgive me for all de harm I has done to you."</p> - -<p>I took her hand, but could not speak a word. Silently I pressed it.</p> - -<p>"Whar's your close, gal?" asked Tompkins.</p> - -<p>"I'm gwine to git 'em."</p> - -<p>"Well, be in a hurry 'bout it."</p> - -<p>She went off to gather up a few articles, scarcely sufficient to cover -her; for we were barely allowed a change of clothing, and that not very -decent.</p> - -<p>Ginsy, leading her child with one hand, while she held in the other a -small bundle, walked up to Miss Jane, and dropping a low courtesy, said,</p> - -<p>"Farewell, Miss Jane; can I see Miss Tildy and young master?"</p> - -<p>"No, John is sick, and Tildy can't be troubled just now."</p> - -<p>"Yes, ma'm; please tell 'em good-bye fur me; and I hopes young Masser -will soon be well agin. I'd like to see him afore I went, but I don't -want to 'sturb him."</p> - -<p>"Well, that will do, go on now."</p> - -<p>"Tell young Masser good-bye," Ginsy said, addressing her child.</p> - -<p>"Good-bye," repeated Miss Jane very carelessly, scarcely looking toward -them, and they moved away, and shaking hands with the servants, they -marched on to the wagon.</p> - -<p>All this time Amy had remained like one transfixed; little Ben held one -of her hands, whilst Janey and Luce grasped her skirts firmly. These -children had no clothes, for, as they performed no regular labor, they -were not allowed a change of apparel. On a Saturday night, whilst they -slept, Amy washed out the articles which they had worn during the week; -and now, poor things, they had no bundles to be made up.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p><p>"Come 'long wid yer, young ones," and Tompkins took Ben by the hand; -but he stoutly refused to go, crying out:</p> - -<p>"Go 'way, and let me 'lone."</p> - -<p>"Come on, I'll give you a lump of sugar."</p> - -<p>"I won't, I won't."</p> - -<p>All of them held tightly to Amy, whose vacant face was so stony in its -deep despair, that it struck terror to my soul.</p> - -<p>"No more fuss," said Mr. Peterkin, and he raised his large whip to -strike the screaming Ben a blow; but that motherly instinct that had -taught Amy to protect them thus long, was not now dead, and upon her -outstretched arm the blow descended. A great, fearful gash was made, -from which the fresh blood streamed rapidly; but she minded it not. -What, to that lightning-burnt soul, were the wounds of the body? -Nothing, aye nothing!</p> - -<p>"Oh, don't mark 'em, Peterkin, it will spile the sale," said Tompkins.</p> - -<p>"Come 'long now, niggers, I has no more time to wait;" and, with a -strong wrench, he broke Ben's arms loose from Amy's form, and, holding -him firmly, despite his piteous cries, he ordered Jake to bring the -other two also. This order was executed, and quickly Luce and Janey were -in the grasp of Jake, and borne shrieking to the cart, in which all -three of them were bound and laid.</p> - -<p>Speechless, stony, petrified, stood Amy. At length, as if gifted with a -supernatural energy, she leaped forward, as the cart drove off, and fell -across the path, almost under the feet of the advancing horses. But not -yet for thee, poor suffering child, will come the Angel of Death! It has -been decreed that you shall endure and wait a while longer.</p> - -<p>By an adroit check upon the rein, Nace stopped the wagon suddenly, and -Jake, who was standing near by, lifted Amy up.</p> - -<p>"Take her to the house, and see that she does herself no harm," said Mr. -Peterkin.</p> - -<p>"Yes, Masser, I will," was the reply of the obsequious Jake.</p> - -<p>And so the cart drove on. I shall never forget the sight!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> Those poor, -down-cast creatures, tied hand and foot, were conveyed they knew not -whither. The shrieks and screams of those children ring now in my ears. -Oh, doleful, most doleful! Why came there no swift execution of that -Divine threat, "Whoso causeth harm to one of these little ones, it were -better for him that a mill-stone were hung about his neck and that he -were drowned in the sea."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> - -<p class="center">TOUCHING FAREWELL FULL OF PATHOS—THE PARTING—MY GRIEF.</p> - -<p>The half insensible form of Amy was borne by Jake into the cabin, and -laid upon the cot which had been Aunt Polly's. He then closed and -secured the door after him.</p> - -<p>Where, all this time, was Miss Bradly? She, in her terror, had buried -her head upon the bed, on which young master still slept. She tried to -drown the sound of those frantic cries that reached her, despite the -closed door and barred shutter. Oh, did they not reach the ear of -Almighty love?</p> - -<p>"Well, I am glad," exclaimed Miss Tildy, "that it is all over. Somehow, -Jane, I did not like the sound of those young children's cries. Might it -not have been well to let Amy go too?"</p> - -<p>"No, of course not. Now that Lindy has been sold, we need a house-girl, -and Amy may be made a very good one; besides, she enraged me so by -attempting to spoil the sale of Ben."</p> - -<p>"Did she do that? Oh, well, I have no pity for her."</p> - -<p>"It would be something very new, Till, for you to pity a nigger."</p> - -<p>"So it would—yet I was weak enough to feel badly when I heard the -children scream."</p> - -<p>"Oh, you are only nervous."</p> - -<p>"I believe I am, and think I will take some medicine."</p> - -<p>"Take medicine," to stifle human pity!</p> - -<p>"What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug would scour" the -slaveholder's nature of harshness and brutality? Could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> this be found, -"I would applaud to the very echo, that should applaud again;" but, -alas! there is no remedy for it. Education has taught many of them to -guard their "beloved institution" with a sort of patriotic fervor and -religious zeal.</p> - -<p>When master returned that evening, he was elated to a wonderful degree. -Tompkins had paid him a large sum in ready cash, and this put him in a -good humor with himself and everybody else. He almost felt kindly toward -the negroes. But I looked upon him with more than my usual horror. That -great, bloated face, blazing now with joy and the effect of strong -drink, was revolting to me. Every expression of delight from his lips -brought to my mind the horrid troubles he had caused by the simple -exercise of his tyrannic will upon helpless women and children. The -humble appearance of Ginsy, the touching innocence of her child, the -unnoticed silent grief of Lindy, the fearful, heart-rending distraction -of Amy, the agony of her helpless sisters and brother, all rose to my -mind when I heard Mr. Peterkin's mirthful laugh ringing through the -house.</p> - -<p>Late in the evening young master roused up. The effect of the somnolent -draught had died out, and he woke in full possession of his faculties. -Miss Bradly and I were with him when he woke. Raising himself quickly in -the bed, he asked,</p> - -<p>"What hour is it?"</p> - -<p>"About half-past six," said Miss Bradly.</p> - -<p>"So late? Then am I afraid that all is over! Where is Lindy?"</p> - -<p>"Try and rest a little more; then we can talk!"</p> - -<p>"No, I must know <i>now</i>."</p> - -<p>"Wait a while longer."</p> - -<p>"Tell me instantly," he said with a nervous impatience very unusual to -him.</p> - -<p>"Drink this, and I will then talk to you," said Miss Bradly, as she held -a cordial to his lips.</p> - -<p>Obediently he swallowed it, and, as he returned the glass, he asked,</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span></p><p>"How has this wretched matter terminated? What has become of that -unfortunate girl?"</p> - -<p>"She has been sold."</p> - -<p>"To the trader?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, but don't talk about it; perhaps she is better off than we think."</p> - -<p>"Is it wise for us thus to silence our sympathies?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, it is, when we are powerless to act."</p> - -<p>"But have we not, each of us, an influence?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, but in such a dubious way, that in cases like the present, we had -better not openly manifest it."</p> - -<p>"Offensive we should never be; but surely we ought to assume a defensive -position."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but you must not excite yourself."</p> - -<p>"Don't think of me. Already I fear I am too self-indulged. Too much time -I have wasted in inaction."</p> - -<p>"What could you have done? And now what can you do?"</p> - -<p>"That is the very question that agitates me. Oh, that I knew my mission, -and had the power to fulfil it!"</p> - -<p>"Who of the others are sold?" he asked, turning to me.</p> - -<p>"Amy's sisters and brother," and I could not avoid tears.</p> - -<p>"Amy, too?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir."</p> - -<p>"Oh, God, this is too bad! and is she not half-distracted?"</p> - -<p>I made no reply, for an admonitory look from Miss Bradly warned me to be -careful as to what I said.</p> - -<p>"Where is father?"</p> - -<p>"In his chamber."</p> - -<p>"Ann, go tell him I wish to speak with him."</p> - -<p>Before obeying I looked toward Miss Bradly, and, finding nothing adverse -in her expression, I went to do as he bade.</p> - -<p>"Is he any worse?" master asked, when I had delivered the message.</p> - -<p>"No, sir; he does not appear to be worse, yet I think he is very -feeble."</p> - -<p>"What right has you to think anything 'bout it?" he said, as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> he took -from the mantle a large, black bottle and drank from it.</p> - -<p>I made no reply, but followed him into young master's room, and -pretended to busy myself about some trifling matter.</p> - -<p>"What is it you want, Johnny?"</p> - -<p>"Father, you have done a wicked thing!"</p> - -<p>"What do you mean, boy?"</p> - -<p>"You have sold Amy's sisters and brothers away from her."</p> - -<p>"And what's wicked in selling a nigger?"</p> - -<p>"Hasn't a negro human feeling?"</p> - -<p>"Why, they don't feel like white people; of course not."</p> - -<p>"That must be proved, father."</p> - -<p>"Oh, now, my boy, 'taint no use for yer to be wastin' of yer good -feelin's on them miserable, ongrateful niggers."</p> - -<p>"They are not ungrateful; miserable they are, for they have had much -misery imposed upon them."</p> - -<p>"Oh, 'taint no use of talking 'bout it, child, go to sleep."</p> - -<p>"Yes, father, I shall soon sleep soundly enough, in our graveyard."</p> - -<p>Mr. Peterkin moved nervously in his chair, and young master continued,</p> - -<p>"I do not wish to live longer. I can do no good here, and the sight of -so much misery only makes me more wretched. Father, draw close to me, I -have lost a great deal of blood. My chest and throat are very sore. I -feel that the tide of life ebbs low. I am going fast. My little hour -upon earth is almost spent. Ere long, the great mystery of existence -will be known to me. A cold shadow, with death-dews on its form, hovers -round me. I know, by many signs unknown to others, that death is now -upon me. This difficult and labored speech, this failing breath and -filmy eye, these heavy night-sweats—all tell me that the golden bowl is -about to be broken: the silver cord is tightened to its utmost tension. -I am young, father; I have forborne to speak to you upon a subject that -has lain near, near, very near my heart." A violent paroxysm of coughing -here interrupted him. Instantly Miss Bradly was beside him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> with a -cordial, which he drank mechanically. "There," he continued, as he -poised himself upon his elbow, "there, good Miss Emily, cordials are of -no avail. I do not wish to stay. Father, do you not want me to rest -quietly in my grave?"</p> - -<p>"I don't want you to go to the grave at all, my boy, my boy," and Mr. -Peterkin burst into tears.</p> - -<p>"Yes, but, father, I am going there fast, and no human power can stay -me. I shall be happy and resigned, if I can elicit from you one -promise."</p> - -<p>"What promise is that?"</p> - -<p>"Liberate your slaves."</p> - -<p>"Never!"</p> - -<p>"Look at me, father."</p> - -<p>"Good God!" cried Mr. Peterkin, as his eye met the calm, clear, fixed -gaze of his son, "where did you get that look? heaven and h—l! it will -kill me;" and, rushing from the room, he sought his own apartment, where -he drank long and deeply from the black bottle that graced his -mantel-shelf. This was his drop of comfort. Always after lashing a -negro, he drank plentifully, as if to drown his conscience. Alas! many -another man has sought relief from memory by such libations! Yet these -are the voters, the noblesse, the lords so superior to the lowly -African. These are the men who vote for a perpetuation of our captivity. -Can we hope for a mitigation of our wrongs when such men are our -sovereigns? Cool, clear-visioned men are few, noble philanthropic ones -are fewer. What then have we to hope for? Our interests are at war with -old established usages. The prejudices of society are against us. The -pride of the many is adverse to us. All this we have to fight against; -and strong must be the moral force that can overcome it.</p> - -<p>Mr. Peterkin did not venture in young master's room for several hours -after; and not without having been sent for repeatedly. Meanwhile I -sought Amy, and found her lying on the floor of the cabin, with her face -downwards. She did not move when I entered, nor did she answer me when -I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> spoke. I lifted her up, but the hard, stony expression of her face, -frightened me.</p> - -<p>"Amy, I will be your friend."</p> - -<p>"I don't want any friend."</p> - -<p>"Yes you do, you like me."</p> - -<p>"No I don't, I doesn't like anybody."</p> - -<p>"Amy, God loves you."</p> - -<p>"I doesn't love Him."</p> - -<p>"Don't talk that way, child."</p> - -<p>"Well, you go off, and let me 'lone."</p> - -<p>"I wish to comfort you."</p> - -<p>"I doesn't want no comfort."</p> - -<p>"Come," said I, "talk freely to me. It will do you good."</p> - -<p>"I tells you I doesn't want no good for to happen to me. I'd rather be -like I is."</p> - -<p>"Amy," and it was with reluctance I ventured to allude to a subject so -painful; but I deemed it necessary to excite her painfully rather than -leave her in that granite-like despair, "you may yet have your sisters -and little brother restored to you."</p> - -<p>"How? how? and when?" she screamed with joy, and started up, her wild -eyes beaming with exultation.</p> - -<p>"Don't be so wild," I said, softly, as I took her little, hard hand, and -pressed it tenderly.</p> - -<p>"But, say, Ann, ken I iver git de chilen back? Has Masser said anything -'bout it? Oh, it 'pears like too much joy fur me to iver know any more. -Poor little Ben, it 'pears like I kan't do nothin' but hear him cry. And -maybe dey is a beatin' of him now. Oh, Lor' a marcy! what shill I do?" -and she rocked her body back and forward in a transport of grief.</p> - -<p>There are some sorrows for which human sympathy is unavailing. What to -that broken heart were words of condolence? Did she care to know that -others felt for her? that another heart wept for her grief? No, like -Rachel of old, she would not be comforted.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p><p>"Oh, Ann!" she added, "please leave me by myself. It 'pears like I -kan't get my breath when anybody is by me. I wants to be by myself. Jist -let me 'lone for a little while, then I'll talk to you."</p> - -<p>I understood the feeling, and complied with her request.</p> - -<p>The slave is so distrustful of sympathy, he is so accustomed to -deception, that he feels secure in the indulgence of his grief only when -he is alone. The petted white, who has friends to cluster round him in -the hour of affliction, cannot understand the loneliness and solitude -which the slave covets as a boon.</p> - -<p>For several days young master lingered on, declining visibly. The hectic -flush deepened upon his cheek, and the glitter of his eye grew fearfully -bright, and there was that sharp contraction of his features that -denoted the certain approach of death. His cough became low and even -harder, and those dreadful night-sweats increased. He lay in a stupid -state, half insensible from the effects of sedatives. Dr. Mandy, who -visited him three times a day, did not conceal from Mr. Peterkin the -fact of his son's near dissolution.</p> - -<p>"Save his life, doctor, and you shall have all I own."</p> - -<p>"If my art could do it, sir, I would, without fee, exert myself for his -restoration."</p> - -<p>Yet for a poor old negro his art could do nothing unfeed. Do ye wonder -that we are goaded on to acts of desperation, when every day, nay, every -moment, brings to our eyes some injustice that is done us—and all -because our faces are dark?</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>"Mislike us not for our complexion,</div> -<div>The shadow'd livery of the burnish'd sun,</div> -<div>To whom we are as neighbors, and near bred;</div> -<div>Bring us the fairest creature Northward born,</div> -<div>Where Phœbus' fire scarce thaws the icicles,</div> -<div>And let us make incision for your love</div> -<div>To prove whose blood is reddest, his or ours."</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>During young master's illness I had but little communication with Amy. -By Miss Jane's order she had been brought into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> the house to assist in -the dining-room. I gave her all the instruction in my power. She -appeared to listen to me, and learned well; yet everything was done with -that vacant, unmeaning manner, that showed she felt no interest in what -she was doing. I had never heard her allude to "the children" since the -conversation just recorded. Indeed, she appeared to eschew all talk. At -night I had attempted to draw her into conversation, but she always -silenced me by saying,</p> - -<p>"I'm tired, Ann, and wants to sleep."</p> - -<p>This was singular in one so young, who had been reared in such a -reckless manner. I should have been better satisfied if she had talked -more freely of her sorrows; that stony, silent agony that seemed frozen -upon her face, terrified me more than the most volcanic grief; that -sorrow is deeply-rooted and hopeless, that denies itself the relief of -speech. Heaven help the soul thus cut off from the usual sources of -comfort. Oh, young Miss, spoiled daughter of wealth, you whose earliest -breath opened to the splendors of home in its most luxurious form; you -who have early and long known the watchful blessing of maternal love, -and whose soft cheek has flushed to the praises of a proud and happy -father, whose lip has thrilled beneath the pressure of a brother's kiss; -you who have slept upon the sunny slope of life, have strayed 'mid the -flowers, and reposed beneath the myrtles, and beside the fountains, -where fairy fingers have garlanded flowers for your brow, oh, bethink -you of some poor little negro girl, whom you often meet in your daily -walks, whose sad face and dejected air you have often condemned as -sullen, and I ask you now, in the name of sweet humanity, to judge her -kindly. Look, with a pitying eye, upon that face which trouble has -soured and abuse contracted. Repress the harsh word; give her kindness; -'tis this that she longs for. Be you the giver of the cup of cold water -in His name.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXII.</h2> - -<p class="center">A CONVERSATION—HOPE BLOSSOMS OUT, BUT CHARLESTOWN IS FULL OF EXCITABILITY.</p> - -<p>One evening, during young master's illness, when he was able to sit up -beside the fire, Dr. Mandy came to see him, and, as I sat in his room, -sewing on some fancy work for Miss Jane, I heard the conversation that -passed between them.</p> - -<p>"Have you coughed much?" the doctor asked.</p> - -<p>"A great deal last night."</p> - -<p>"Do the night-sweats continue?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir, and are violent."</p> - -<p>"Let me feel your pulse. Here—it is very quick—face is flushed—high -fever."</p> - -<p>"Yes, doctor, I am sinking fast."</p> - -<p>"Oh, keep up your spirits. I have been thinking that the best thing for -you would be to take a trip to Havana. This climate is too variable for -your complaint."</p> - -<p>Young master shook his head mournfully.</p> - -<p>"The change of scene," the doctor went on, "would be of service to you. -A healthful excitement of the imagination, and a different train of -thought, would, undoubtedly, benefit you."</p> - -<p>"What in the South could induce a different train of thought? Oh, -doctor, the horrid system, that there flourishes with such rank power, -would only deepen my train of thought, and make me more wretched than I -am; I would not go near New Orleans, or pass those dreadful plantations, -even to secure the precious boon of health."</p> - -<p>"You will not see anything of the kind. You will only see life at -hotels; and there the slaves are all happy and well used. Besides, my -good boy, the negroes on the plantations are much better used than you -think; and I assure you they are very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> happy. If you could overhear them -laughing and singing of an evening, you would be convinced that they are -well cared for."</p> - -<p>"Ah, disguise thee as thou wilt, yet, Slavery, thou art horrid and -revolting."</p> - -<p>"You are morbid on the subject."</p> - -<p>"No, only humane; but have I not seen enough to make me morbid?"</p> - -<p>"These are subjects upon which I deem it best to say nothing."</p> - -<p>"That is the invariable argument of self-interest."</p> - -<p>"No, of prudence, Mr. John; I have no right to quarrel with and rail out -against an institution that has the sanction of the law, and which is -acceptable to the interests of my best friends and patrons."</p> - -<p>"Exactly so; the whole matter, so vital to the happiness of others, so -fraught with great humanitarian interests, must be quietly laid on the -shelf, because it may lose you or me a few hundred dollars."</p> - -<p>"Not precisely that either; but, granting, for the sake of hypothesis -only, that slavery is a wrong, what good would all my arguments do? -None, but rather an injury to the very cause they sought to benefit. You -must not exasperate the slave-holders. Leave them to time and their own -reflections. I believe many of the Western States—yes, Kentucky -herself—would at this moment be free from slavery, if it had not been -for the officious interference of the North. The people of the West and -South are hot, fiery and impetuous. They may be persuaded and coaxed -into a measure, but never driven. All this talk and gasconade of -Abolitionists have but the tighter bound the negroes."</p> - -<p>"I am sorry to hear you thus express yourself, for you give me a more -contemptible opinion of the Southern and Western men, or rather the -slave-holding class, than I had before. And so they are but children, -who must be coaxed, begged, and be-sugar-plumed into doing a simple act -of justice. Have they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> not the manhood to come out boldly, and say this -thing is wrong, and that they will no longer countenance it in their -midst; that they will, for the sake of justice and sympathy with -humanity, liberate these creatures, whom they have held in an unjust and -wicked bondage? Were they to act thus, then might they claim for -themselves the title of chevaliers."</p> - -<p>"Yes; but they take a different view of the subject; they look upon -slavery as just and right—a dispensation of Providence, and feel that -they are as much entitled to their slaves as another man is to his -house, carriage, or horse."</p> - -<p>"Oh, how they shut their hearts against the voice of misery, and close -their eyes to the rueful sigh of human grief. I never heard a -pro-slavery man who could, upon any reasonable ground, defend his -position. The slavery argument is not only a wicked, but an absurd one. -How wise men can be deluded by it I am at a loss to understand. -Infatuated they must be, else they could not uphold a system as -tyrannous as it is base."</p> - -<p>"Well, we will say no more upon this subject," said the doctor, as Mr. -Peterkin entered.</p> - -<p>"What's the matter?" the latter inquired, as he listlessly threw himself -into a chair.</p> - -<p>"Nothing, only Mr. John is not all right on the 'goose,'" replied Dr. -Mandy, with a facetious smile.</p> - -<p>"And not likely to be," said Mr. Peterkin; "Johnny has given me a great -deal of trouble 'bout this matter; but I hope he will outgrow it. 'Tis -only a foolish notion. He was 'lowed to gad 'bout too much with them ar' -devilish niggers, an' so 'bibed their quare ideas agin slavery. Now, in -my 'pinion, my niggers is a darned sight better off than many of them -poor whites at the North."</p> - -<p>"But are they as free?" asked young master.</p> - -<p>"No, to be sure they is not," and here Mr. Peterkin ejected from his -mouth an amount of tobacco-juice that nearly extinguished the fire.</p> - -<p>"Woe be unto the man who takes from a fellow-being the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> priceless right -of personal liberty!" exclaimed young master, with his fine eyes -fervently raised.</p> - -<p>"Yes, but everybody don't desarve liberty. Niggers ain't fit for to -govern 'emselves nohow. They has bin too long 'customed to havin' -masters. Them that's went to Libery has bin of no 'count to 'emselves -nor nobody else. I tell yer, niggers was made to be slaves, and yer -kan't change their Creator's design. Why, you see, doctor, a nigger's -mind is never half as good as a white man's;" and Mr. Peterkin conceived -this speech to be the very best extract of lore and sapience.</p> - -<p>"Why is not the African mind equal to the Caucasian?" inquired young -master, with that pointed naivete for which he was so remarkable.</p> - -<p>"Oh, it tain't no use, Johnny, fur you to be talkin' that ar' way. It's -all fine enoff in newspapers, but it won't do to bring it into practice, -'specially out here in the West."</p> - -<p>"No, father, I begin to fear that it is of no avail to talk common sense -and preach humanity in a community like this."</p> - -<p>"Don't talk any more on this subject," said the doctor; "I am afraid it -does Mr. John no particular good to be so painfully excited. I was going -to propose to you, Mr. Peterkin, to send him South, either on a little -coasting trip, or to Havana <i>via</i> New Orleans. I think this climate is -too rigorous and uncertain for one of his frail constitution to remain -in it during the winter."</p> - -<p>"Well, doctor, I am perfectly willin' fur him to go, if I had anybody to -go with him; but you see it wouldn't be safe to trust him by himself. -Now an idee has jist struck me, which, if you'll agree to, will 'zackly -suit me. 'Tis for you to go 'long; then he'd have a doctor to rinder him -any sarvice he might need. Now Doct. if you'll go, I'll foot the bill, -and pay you a good bonus in the bargain."</p> - -<p>"Well, it will be a great professional sacrifice; but I'm willing to -make it for a friend like you, and for a patient in whose recovery or -improvement I feel so deeply interested."</p> - -<p>"Make no sacrifices for me, dear doctor; my poor wreck of life is not -worth a sacrifice; I can weather it out a little longer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> in this region. -It requires a stronger air than that of the tropics to restore strength -to my poor decayed lungs."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but you must not despond," said the doctor.</p> - -<p>"No, my boy, you musn't give up. You are too young to die. You are my -only son, and I can't spare you." Again Mr. Peterkin turned uneasily in -his chair.</p> - -<p>"But tell me, doctor," he added, "don't you think he is growin' -stronger?"</p> - -<p>"Why, yes I do; and if he will consent to go South, I shall have strong -hope of him."</p> - -<p>"He must consent," exclaimed Mr. Peterkin, with a decided emphasis.</p> - -<p>"You know my objection, doctor, yet I cannot oppose my wish against -father's judgment; so I will go, but 'twill be without the least -expectation of ever again seeing home."</p> - -<p>"Oh, don't, don't, my boy," and Mr. Peterkin's voice faltered, and his -eyes were very moist.</p> - -<p>"Idols of clay!" I thought, "how frail ye are; albeit ye are -manufactured out of humanity's finest porcelain, yet a rude touch, a -slight jar, and the beautiful fabric is destroyed forever!"</p> - -<p>Mr. Peterkin's treasure, his only son, was wasting slowly, inch by inch, -before his eyes—dying with slow and silent certainty. The virus was in -his blood, and no human aid could check its strides. The father looked -on in speechless dread. He saw the insidious marks of the incurable -malady. He read its ravages upon the broad white brow of his son, where -the pulsing veins lay like tightly-drawn cords; and on the hueless lip, -that was shrivelled like an autumn leaf; in the dilated pupil of that -prophet-like eye; in the fiery spot that blazed upon each hollow cheek; -and in the short, disturbed breathing that seemed to come from a brazen -tube; in all these he traced the omens of that stealthy disease that -robs us, like a thief in the night-time, of our richest treasures.</p> - -<p>"Well, my boy," began Mr. Peterkin, "you must prepare to start in the -course of a few days."</p> - -<p>"I am ready to leave at any moment, father; and, if we do<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> not start -very soon, I am thinking you will have to consign me to the earth, -rather than send me on a voyage pleasure-hunting."</p> - -<p>A bright smile, though mournful as twilight's shadows, flitted over the -pale face of young master as he said this.</p> - -<p>"Why, Johnny, you are better this evening," said Miss Bradly, as she -entered the room, rushed up to him, and began patting him affectionately -on either cheek.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I am better, good Miss Emily; but still feeble, oh so feeble! My -spirits are better, but the restless fire that burns eternally here will -give me no rest," and he placed his hand over his breast.</p> - -<p>"Yes, but you must quench that fire."</p> - -<p>"Where is the draught clear and pure enough to quench a flame so -consuming?"</p> - -<p>"The dew of divine grace can do it."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but it descends not upon my dried and burnt spirit."</p> - -<p>Mr. Peterkin turned off, and affected to take no note of this little -colloquy, whilst Doctor Mandy began to chew furiously.</p> - -<p>The fact is, the Peterkin family had begun to distrust Miss Bradly's -principles ever since the day young master administered such a reproof -to her muffled conscience; and in truth, I believe she had half-declared -her opposition to the slave system; and they began to abate the fervor -of their friendship for her. The young ladies, indeed, kept up their -friendly intercourse with her, though with a modification of their -former warmth.</p> - -<p>I fancied that Miss Bradly looked happier, now that she had cast off -disguise and stood forth in her true character. That cloud of faltering -distrust that once hung round her like a filmy web, had been dissipated -and she stood out, in full relief, with the beautiful robe of truth -draping and dignifying her nature. Woman, when once she interests -herself in the great cause of humanity, goes to work with an ability and -ardor that put to shame the colder and slower action of man. The heart -and mind co-work, and thus a woman, as if by the dictate of inspiration, -will achieve with a single effort the mighty deed, for the attainment of -which men spend years in idle planning. Women<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> have done much, and may -yet achieve more toward the emancipation and enfranchisement of the -world. The historic pages glitter with the noble acts of heroic -womanhood, and histories yet unwritten will, I believe, proclaim the -good which they shall yet do. Who but the Maid of Orleans rescued her -country? Whose hand but woman's dealt the merited death-blow to one of -France's bloodiest tyrants? In all times, she has been most loyal to the -highest good. Woman has ever been brave! She was the instrument of our -redemption, and the early watcher at the tomb of our Lord. To her heart -the Saviour's doctrine came with a special welcome message. And I now -believe that through her agency will yet come the political ransom of -the slaves! God grant it, and speed on the blessed day!</p> - -<p>I now looked upon Miss Bradly with the admiring interest with which I -used to regard her; and though I had never had from her an explanation -of the change or changes through which she had passed since that -memorable conversation recorded in the earlier pages of this book, I -felt assured from the fact that young master had learned to love her, -that all was right at the core of her heart; and I was willing to -forgive her for the timidity and vacillation that had caused her to play -the dissembler. The memorable example of the loving but weak Apostle -Peter should teach us to look leniently upon all those who cannot pass -safely through the ordeal of human contempt, without having their -principles, or at least actions, a little warped. Of course there are -higher natures, from whose fortitude the rack and the stake can provoke -nothing but smiles; but neither good St. Peter nor Miss Bradly were of -such material.</p> - -<p>"I am going to leave you very soon, Miss Emily."</p> - -<p>"And where are you going, John?"</p> - -<p>"They will send me to the South. As the poor slaves say, I'm going down -the river;" and a sweet smile flitted over that gentle face.</p> - -<p>"Who will accompany you?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p><p>"Father wishes Doctor Mandy to go; but I fear it will be too great a -professional sacrifice."</p> - -<p>"Oh, some one must go with you. You shall not go alone."</p> - -<p>"I do not wish to go at all. I shall see nothing in the South to please -me. Those magnificent plantations of rice, sugar, and cotton, those -lordly palaces, embowered in orange trees, those queenly magnolia -groves, and all the thousand splendors that cover the coast with -loveliness, will but recall to my mind the melancholy fact that -slave-labor produces the whole. I shall fancy that some poor -heart-broken negro man, or some hopeless mother or lonely wife watered -those fields with tears. Oh, that the dropping of those sad eyes had, -like the sowing of the dragon's teeth, produced a band of armed, -bristling warriors, strong enough to conquer all the tyrants and -liberate the captives!"</p> - -<p>"This can never be accomplished suddenly. It must be the slow and -gradual work of years. Like all schemes of reformation, it moves but by -inches. Wise legislators have proposed means for the final abolition of -slavery; but, though none have been deemed practicable, I look still for -the advent of the day when the great sun shall look goldenly down upon -the emancipation of this dusky tribe, and when the word slave shall -nowhere find expression upon the lips of Christian men."</p> - -<p>"When do you predict the advent of that millennial day?"</p> - -<p>"I fear it is far distant; yet is it pleasant to think that it will -come, no matter at how remote an epoch."</p> - -<p>"Distant is it only because men are not thoroughly Christianized. No man -that will willingly hold his brother in bondage is a Christian. -Moreover, the day is far off in the future, because of the ignorant -pride of men. They wish to send the poor negro away to the unknown land -from whence his ancestors were stolen. We virtually say to the Africans, -now you have cultivated and made beautiful our continent, we have no -further use for you. You have grown up, it is true, beneath the shadow -of our trees, you were born upon our soil, your early associations are -here. Your ignorance <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span>precludes you from the knowledge of the excellence -of any other land: yet for all this we take no care, it is our business -to drive you hence. Cross the ocean you must. Find a home in a strange -country; lay your broad shoulder to the work, and make for yourself an -interest there. What wonder is it, if the poor, ignorant negro shakes -his head mournfully, and says: "No, I would rather stay here; I am a -slave, it is true, but then I was born here, and here I will be buried. -I am tightly kept, have a master and a mistress, but then I know what -this is. Hard to endure, I grant it—but then it is known to me. I can -bear on a little longer, till death sets me free. No, this is my native -shore; here let me stay." Their very ignorance begets a kind of -philosophy that</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>"Makes them rather bear those ills they have,</div> -<div>Than fly to others that they know not of."</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>Now, why, I ask, have they not as much right to remain here as we have? -This is their birthplace as well as ours. We are, likewise, descendants -of foreigners. If we drive them hence, what excuse have we for it? Our -forefathers were not the aborigines of this country. As well might the -native red men say to us: "Fly, leave the Western continent, 'tis our -home; we will not let you stay here. You have cultivated it, now <i>we</i> -will enjoy it. Go and labor elsewhere." What would we think of this? Yet -such is our line of conduct toward those poor creatures, who have toiled -to adorn our homes. Then again, we allow the Irish, Germans, and -Hungarians, to dwell among us. Why ban the African?"</p> - -<p>"These, my young friend, are questions that have puzzled the wisest -brains."</p> - -<p>"If it entered more into the hearts, and disturbed the brains less, it -would be better for them and for the slaves."</p> - -<p>"Now, come, Miss Emily, I'm tired of hearing you and that boy talk all -that nonsense. It's time you were both thinking of something else. You -are too old to be indulgin' of him in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> that ar' stuff. It will never -come to any good. Them ar' niggers is allers gwine to be slaves, and -white folks had better be tendin' to what consarns 'emselves."</p> - -<p>Such arguments as the foregoing were carried on every day. Meanwhile we, -who formed the subject of them, still went on in our usual way, half-fed -and half-clad, knocked and kicked like dogs.</p> - -<p>Amy went about her assigned work, with the same hard-set composure with -which she had begun. Talking little to any one, she tried to discharge -her duties with a docility and faithfulness very remarkable. Yet she -sternly rebuked all conversation. I made many efforts to draw her out -into a free, sociable talk, and was always told that it was not -agreeable to her.</p> - -<p>I now had no companionship among those of my own color. Aunt Polly was -in the grave; Amy wrapped in the silence of her own grief; and Sally -(the successor of Aunt Polly in the culinary department) was a sulky, -ignorant woman, who did not like to be sociable; and the men, with their -beastly instincts, were objects of aversion to me. So my days and nights -passed in even deeper gloom than I had ever before known.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> - -<p class="center">THE SUPPER—ITS CONSEQUENCES—LOSS OF SILVER—A LONELY NIGHT—AMY.</p> - -<p>The winter was now drawing to a close. The heavy, dreary winter, that -had hung like an incubus upon my hours, was fast drawing to an end. Many -a little, tuneful bird came chirping with the sunny days of the waning -February. Already the sunbeam had begun to give us a hint of the -spring-warmth; the ice had melted away, and the moistened roofs of the -houses began to smoke with the drying breath of the sun, and little -green pods were noticeable upon the dried branches of the forest trees. -It was on such a day, when the eye begins to look round upon Nature, and -almost expects to solve the wondrous phenomenon of vegetation, that I -was engaged arranging Miss Jane's wardrobe. I had just done up some -laces for her, and finished off a nice silk morning-dress. She was -making extensive preparations for a visit to the city of L. The -protracted rigors of the winter and her own fancied ill-health had -induced her to postpone the trip until the opening of spring.</p> - -<p>It was decided that I should accompany her as lady's maid; and the fact -is, I was desirous of any change from the wearying monotony of my life.</p> - -<p>Young master had been absent during the whole winter. Frequent letters -from Dr. Mandy (who had accompanied him) informed the family of his -slowly-improving health; yet the doctor stated in each communication -that he was not strong enough to write a letter himself. This alarmed -me, for I knew that he must be excessively weak, if he denied himself -the gratification of writing to his family. Miss Bradly came to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> the -house but seldom; and then only to inquire the news from young master. -Her principles upon the slavery question had become pretty well known in -the neighborhood; so her residence there was not the most pleasant. -Inuendoes, of a most insulting character, had been thrown out, highly -prejudicial to her situation. Foul slanders were in busy circulation -about her, and she began to be a taboed person. So I was not surprised -to hear her tell Miss Jane that she thought of returning to the North -early in the spring. I had never held any private conversation with her -since that memorable one; for now that her principles were known, she -was too much marked for a slave to be allowed to speak with her alone. -Her sorrowful face struck me with pity. I knew her to be one of that -time-serving kind, by whom the loss of caste and social position is -regarded as the most fell disaster.</p> - -<p>As I turned the key of Miss Jane's wardrobe, she came into the room, -with an unusually excited manner, exclaiming,</p> - -<p>"Ann, where is your Miss Tildy?"</p> - -<p>Upon my answering that I did not know, she bade me go and seek her -instantly, and say that she wished to speak with her. As I left the -room, I observed Miss Jane draw a letter from the folds of her dress. -This was hint enough. My mother-wit told me the rest.</p> - -<p>Finding Miss Tildy with a book, in a quiet corner of the parlor, I -delivered Miss Jane's message, and withdrew. The contents of Miss Jane's -letter soon became known; for it was, to her, of such an exciting -nature, that it could not be held in secresy. The letter was from Mr. -Summerville, and announced that he would pay her a visit in the course -of a few days.</p> - -<p>And, for the next "few days," the whole house was in a perfect -consternation. All hands were at work. Carpets were taken up, shaken, -and put down again with the "clean side" up. Paint was scoured, windows -were washed; the spare bedroom was re-arranged, and adjusted in style; -the French couch was overspread with Miss Tildy's silk quilt, that had -taken the prize at the Agricultural Fair; and fresh bouquets were -<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span>collected from the green-house, and placed upon the mantel. Everything -looked very nice about the house, and in the kitchen all sorts of -culinary preparations had gone on. Cakes, cookies, and confections had -been made in abundance. As Amy expressed it, in her quaintly comical -way, "Christmas is comin' again." It was the first and only time since -the departure of "the children," that I had heard her indulge in any of -her old drollery.</p> - -<p>At length the "day" arrived, and with it came Mr. Summerville. Whilst he -remained with us, everything went off in the way that Miss Jane desired. -There were fine dinners, with plenty of wine, roast turkey, curry -powder, desserts, &c. The silver and best china had been brought out, -and Mr. Peterkin behaved himself as well as he could. He even consented -to use a silver fork, which, considering his prejudice against the -article, was quite a concession for him to make.</p> - -<p>Time sped on (as it always will do), and brought the end of the week, -and with it, the end of Mr. Summerville's visit. I thought, from a -certain softening of Miss Jane's eye, and from the length of the parting -interview, that "<i>matters</i>" had been arranged between her and Mr. -Summerville. After the last adieu had been given, and Miss Jane had -rubbed her eyes enough with her fine pocket-handkerchief (or, perhaps, -in this case, it would be well to employ the suggestion of a modern -author, and say her "lachrymal,") I say, after all was over, and Mr. -Summerville's interesting form was fairly lost in the distance, Miss -Tildy proposed that they should settle down to their usual manner of -living. Accordingly, the silver was all rubbed brightly by Amy, whose -business it was, then handed over to Miss Tildy to be locked up in the -bureau.</p> - -<p>For a few weeks matters went on with their usual dullness. Master was -still smoking his cob-pipe, kicking negroes, and blaspheming; and Miss -Jane making up little articles for the approaching visit to the city. -She and Miss Tildy sat a great deal in their own room, talking and -speculating upon the coming joys. Passing in and out, I frequently -caught fragments of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> conversation that let me into many of their -secrets. Thus I learned that Miss Jane's chief object in visiting the -city was to purchase a bridal trousseau, that Mr. Summerville "had -proposed," and, of course, been accepted. He lived in the city; so it -was decided that, after the celebration of the nuptial rite, Miss Tildy -should accompany the bride to her new home, and remain with her for -several weeks.</p> - -<p>Sundry little lace caps were manufactured; handkerchiefs embroidered; -dresses made and altered; collars cut, and an immence deal of -"transfering" was done by the sisters Peterkin.</p> - -<p>We, of the "colored population," were stinted even more than formerly; -for they deemed it expedient to economize, in order to be the better -able to meet the pecuniary exigencies of the marriage. Thus time wore -along, heavily enough for the slaves; but doubtless delightful to the -white family. The enjoyment of pleasure, like all other prerogatives, -they considered as exclusively their own.</p> - -<p>Time, in its rugged course, had brought no change to Amy. If her heart -had learned to bear its bereavement better, or had grown more tender in -its anxious waiting, we knew it not from her word or manner. The same -settled, rocky look, the same abstracted air, marked her deportment. -Never once had I heard her laugh, or seen her weep. She still avoided -conversation, and was assiduous in the discharge of her domestic duties. -If she did a piece of work well, and was praised for it, she received -the praise with the same indifferent air; or if, as was most frequently -the case, she was harshly chided and severely punished, 'twas all the -same. No tone or word could move those rigid features.</p> - -<p>One evening Miss Bradly came over to see the young ladies, and inquire -the latest news from young master. Miss Jane gave orders that the table -should be set with great care, and all the silver displayed. They had -long since lost their olden familiarity, and, out of respect to the -present coldness that existed between them, they (the Misses Peterkin) -desired to show<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> off "before the discredited school-mistress." I heard -Miss Bradly ask Mr. Peterkin when he heard from young master.</p> - -<p>"I've just got a letter from Dr. Mandy. They ar' still in New Orleans; -but expected to start for home in 'bout three days. The doctor gives me -very little cause for hope; says Johnny is mighty weak, and had a pretty -tough cough. He says the night-sweats can't be broke; and the boy is -very weak, not able to set up an hour at a time. This is very -discouragin', Miss Emily. Sometimes it 'pears like 'twould kill me, too, -my heart is so sot 'pon that boy;" and here Mr. Peterkin began to smoke -with great violence, a sure sign that he was laboring under intense -excitement.</p> - -<p>"He is a very noble youth," said Miss Bradly, with a quivering voice and -a moist eye; "I am deeply attached to him, and the thought of his death -is one fraught with pain to me. I hope Doctor Mandy is deceived in the -prognostics he deems so bad. Johnny's life is a bright example, and one -that is needed."</p> - -<p>"Yes, you think it will aid the Abolition cause; but not in this region, -I can assure you," said Miss Tildy, as she tossed her head knowingly. -"I'd like to know where Johnny learned all the Anti-slavery cant. Do you -know, Miss Emily, that your incendiary principles lost you caste in this -neighborhood, where you once stood as a model?"</p> - -<p>Miss Tildy had touched Miss Bradly in her vulnerable point. "Caste" was -a thing that she valued above reputation, and reckoned more desirable -than honor. Had it not been for a certain goodness of heart, from which -she could not escape (though she had often tried) she would have -renounced her Anti-slavery sentiments and never again avowed them; but -young master's words had power to rescue her almost shipwrecked -principles, and then, whilst smarting under the lash of his rebuke, she -attempted, like many an astute politician, to "run on both sides of the -question;" but this was an equivocal position that the "out and out" -Kentuckians were not going to allow. She had to be, in their distinct -phraseology, "one thing or the other;" and, accordingly, aided by young -master and her sense of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>justice, she avowed herself "the other." And, -of course, with this avowal, came the loss of cherished friends. In -troops they fell away from her. Their averted looks and distant nods -nearly drove her mad. If young master had been by to encourage and -sustain her with gracious words, she could have better borne it; but, -single-handed and alone, she could not battle against adversity. And now -this speech of Miss Tildy's was very untimely. She winced under it, yet -dared not reply. What a contemptible character, to the brave mind, seems -one lacking moral courage!</p> - -<p>"I want to see Johnny once again, and then I shall leave for the North," -said Miss Bradly, in a pitiful tone.</p> - -<p>"See Naples and die, eh?" laughed Miss Tildy.</p> - -<p>"Always and ever ready with your fun," replied Miss Bradly.</p> - -<p>At first her wiry turnings, her open and shameless sycophancy, and now -her cringing and fawning upon the Peterkins, caused me to lose all -respect for her. In the hour of her trouble, when deserted by those whom -she had loved as friends, when her pecuniary prospects were blighted, I -felt deeply for her, and even forgave the falsehood; but now when I saw -her shrink from the taunt and invective of Miss Tildy, and then minister -to her vanity, I felt that she was too little even for contempt. At tea, -that evening, whilst serving the table, I was surprised to observe Miss -Jane's face very red with anger, and her manner exceedingly irascible. I -began to wonder if I had done anything to exasperate her; but could -think of no offence of which I had been guilty. I knew from the way in -which she conversed with all at the table, that none of them were -offenders. I was the more surprised at her anger, as she had been, for -the last week, in such an excellent humor, getting herself ready for the -visit to the city. Oh, how I dreaded to see Miss Bradly leave, for then, -I knew the storm would break in all its fury!</p> - -<p>I was standing in the kitchen, alone, trying to think what could have -offended Miss Jane, when Amy came up to me, saying,</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p><p>"Oh, Ann, two silver forks is lost, an' Miss Tildy done 'cuse me of -stealin' 'em, an' I declar 'fore heaven, I gib ebery one of 'em to Miss -Tildy de mornin' Misser Summerbille lef, an' now she done told Miss Jane -dat I told a lie, and that I stole 'em. Lor' knows what dey is gwine to -do 'long wid me; but I don't kere much, so dey kills me soon and sets me -out my misery at once."</p> - -<p>"When did they miss the forks?"</p> - -<p>"Wy, to-night, when I went to set de table, I found dat two of 'em -wasn't dar; so I axed Miss Tildy whar dey was, an' she said she didn't -know. Den I axed Miss Jane; she say, 'ax Miss Tildy.' Den when I told -Miss Tildy dat, she got mad; struck me a lick right cross my face. Den I -told her bout de time Mr. Summerbille lef, when I give 'em to her. She -say, 'you's a liar, an' hab stole 'em.' Den I begun to declar I hadn't, -and she call Miss Jane, and say to her dat she knowed I hab stole 'em, -and Miss Jane got mad; kicked me, pulled my har till I screamed; den I -'spose she did 'ant want Miss Bradly to hear me; so she stopped, but -swar she'd beat me to death if I didn't get 'em fur her right off. Now, -Ann, I doesn't know whar dey is, if I was to be kilt for it."</p> - -<p>She drew the back of her hand across her eyes, and I saw that it was -moist. I was glad of this, for her silent endurance was more horrible to -look upon than this physical softness.</p> - -<p>"Oh, God!" I exclaimed, "I would that young master were here."</p> - -<p>"What fur, Ann?"</p> - -<p>"He might intercede and prevent them from using you so cruelly."</p> - -<p>"I doesn't wish he was har; for I lubs young Masser, an' he is good; if -he was to see me a sufferin' it wud stress him, an' make his complaint -worse; an' he couldn't do no good; for dey will beat me, no matter who -begs. Ob, it does seem so strange that black people was eber made. I is -glad dat de chillen isn't har; for de sight ob dem cryin' round de -'post,'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> wud nearly kill me. I can bar anythin' fur myself, but not fur -'em. Oh, I hopes dey is dead."</p> - -<p>And here she heaved a dreadful groan. This was the first time I had -heard her allude to them, and I felt a choking rush in my throat.</p> - -<p>"Don't cry, Ann, take kere ob yourself. It 'pears like my time has come. -I don't feel 'feard, an' dis is de fust time I'se eber bin able to speak -'bout de chillen. If eber you sees 'em, (I niver will), tell 'em dat I -niver did forget 'em; dat night an' day my mind was sot on 'em, an' -please, Ann, gib 'em dis."</p> - -<p>Here she took from her neck a string that held her mother's gift, and -the coin young master had given her, suspended to it. She looked at it -long and wistfully, then, slowly pressing it to her lips, she said in a -low, plaintive voice that went to my heart, "Poor Mammy."</p> - -<p>I then took it from her, and hid it in my pocket. A cold horror stole -over me. I had not the power to gainsay her; for an instinctive idea -that something terrible was going to occur, chained my lips.</p> - -<p>"Ann, I thanks you for all your kindness to me. I hopes you may hab a -better time den I has hab. I feel, Ann, as if I niver should come down -from dat post alive.</p> - -<p>"Trust in God, Amy."</p> - -<p>She shook her head despairingly.</p> - -<p>"He will save you."</p> - -<p>"No, God don't kare for black folks."</p> - -<p>"What did young master tell you about that? Did he not say God loved all -His creatures alike?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, but black folks aint God's critters."</p> - -<p>"Yes, they are, just as much as white people."</p> - -<p>"No dey aint."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Amy, I wish I could make you understand how it is."</p> - -<p>"You kant make me belieb dat ar' way, no how you can fix it. God don't -kare what a comes ob niggers; an' I is glad he don't, kase when I dies, -I'll jist lay down and rot like de worms, and dere wont be no white -folks to 'buse me."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p><p>"No, there will be no white folks to abuse you in heaven; but God and -His angels will love you, if you will do well and try to get there."</p> - -<p>"I don't want to go ther, for God is one of the white people, and, in -course, he'd beat de niggers."</p> - -<p>Oh, was not this fearful, fearful ignorance? Through the solid rock of -her obtusity, I could, with no argument of mine, make an aperture for a -ray of heavenly light to penetrate. Do Christians, who send off -missionaries, realize that heathendom exists in their very midst; aye, -almost at their own hearthstone? Let them enlighten those that dwell in -the bonds of night on their own borders; then shall their efforts in -distant lands be blest. Numberless instances, such as the one I have -recorded, exist in the slave States. The masters who instruct their -slaves in religion, could be numbered; and I will venture to assert -that, if the census were taken in the State of Kentucky, the number -would not exceed twenty. Here and there you will find an instance of a -mistress who will, perhaps, on a Sunday evening, talk to a female slave -about the propriety of behaving herself; but the gist of the argument, -the hinge upon which it turns, is—"obey your master and mistress;" upon -this one precept hang all the law and the prophets.</p> - -<p>That night, after my house duties were discharged, I went to the cabin, -where I found Amy lying on her face, weeping bitterly. I lifted her up, -and tried to console her; but she exclaimed, with more energy than I had -ever heard her,</p> - -<p>"Ann, every ting seems so dark to me. I kan't see past to-morrow. I has -bin thinkin' of Aunt Polly; I keeps seein' her, no matter what way I -turns."</p> - -<p>"You are frightened," I ventured to say.</p> - -<p>"No, I isn't, but I feels curus."</p> - -<p>"Let me teach you to pray."</p> - -<p>"Will it do me any good?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, if you put faith in God."</p> - -<p>"What's faith?"</p> - -<p>"Believe that God is strong and willing to save you; that is faith."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span></p><p>"Who is God? I never seed him."</p> - -<p>"No, but He sees you."</p> - -<p>"Whar is He?" and she looked fearfully around the room, in which the -scanty fire threw a feeble glare.</p> - -<p>"Everywhere. He is everywhere," I answered.</p> - -<p>"Is He in dis room?" she asked in terror, and drew near me.</p> - -<p>"Yes, He is here."</p> - -<p>"Oh lor! He may tell Masser on me."</p> - -<p>This ignorance may, to the careless reader, seem laughable; but, to me, -it was most horrible, and I could not repress my tears. Here was the -force of education. Master was to her the strongest thing or person in -existence. Of course she could not understand a higher power than that -which had governed her life. There are hundreds as ignorant; but no -missionaries come to enlighten them!</p> - -<p>"Oh, don't speak that way; you know God made you."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but dat was to please Masser. He made me fur to be a slave."</p> - -<p>Now, how would the religious slave-holder answer that?</p> - -<p>I strove, but with no success, to make her understand that over her -soul, her temporal master had no control; but her ignorance could not -see a difference between the body and soul. Whoever owned the former, -she thought, was entitled to the latter. Finding I could make no -impression upon her mind, I lay down and tried to sleep; but rest was an -alien to me. I dreaded the breaking of the morn. Poor Amy slept, and I -was glad that she did. Her overtaxed body yielded itself up to the most -profound rest. In the morning, when I saw her sleeping so soundly on the -pallet, I disliked to arouse her. I felt, as I fancied a human jailer -must feel, whose business it is to awaken a criminal on the morning of -his execution; yet I had it to do, for, if she had been tardy at her -work, it would have enraged her tyrants the more, and been worse for -her.</p> - -<p>Rubbing her eyes, she sat upright on the pallet and murmured,</p> - -<p>"Dis is de day. I's to be led to de post, and maybe kilt."</p> - -<p>I dared not comfort her, and only bade her to make haste and attend to her work.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> - -<p class="center">THE PUNISHMENT—CRUELTY—ITS FATAL CONSEQUENCE—DEATH.</p> - -<p>At breakfast, Miss Jane shook her head at Amy, saying,</p> - -<p>"I'll settle accounts with you, presently."</p> - -<p>I wondered if that tremulous form, that stood eyeing her in affright, -did not soften her; but no, the "shaking culprit," as she styled Amy, -was the very creature upon whom she desired to deal swift justice.</p> - -<p>Pitiable was the sight in the kitchen, where Jake and Dan, great stout -fellows, were making their breakfasts off of scraps of meat, old bones -and corn-bread, whilst the aroma of coffee, broiled chicken, and -egg-cakes was wafted to them from the house-table.</p> - -<p>"I wish't I had somepin' more to eat," said Dan.</p> - -<p>"You's never satisfy," replied Sally, the cook; "you gits jist as much -as de balance, yit you makes de most complaints."</p> - -<p>"No I doesn't."</p> - -<p>"Yes, you does; don't he, Jake?"</p> - -<p>"Why, to be sartain he does," said Jake, who of late had agreed to live -with Sally as a wife. Of course no matrimonial rite was allowed, for Mr. -Peterkin was consistent enough to say, that, as the law did not -recognize the validity of negro marriages, he saw no use of the -tomfoolery of a preacher in the case; and this is all reasonable enough.</p> - -<p>"You allers takes Sal's part," said Dan, "now sense she has got to be -your wife; you and her is allers colloged together agin' de rest ov us."</p> - -<p>"Wal, haint I right for to 'tect my ole 'oman?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p><p>"Now, ha, ha!" cried Nace, as he entered, "de idee ob yer 'tectin' a -wife! I jist wisht Masser sell yer apart, den whar is yer 'tection ob -one anoder?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, dat am very different. Den I'd jist git me anoder ole 'oman, an' -she'd git her anoder ole man."</p> - -<p>"Sure an' I would," was Sally's reply; "hain't I done had five old men -already, an' den if Jake be sole, I'de git somebody else."</p> - -<p>"White folks don't do dat ar' way," interposed Dan, as he picked away at -a bone.</p> - -<p>"In course dey don't. Why should dey?" put in Nace. "Ain't dey our -Massers, and habn't dey dar own way in ebery ting?"</p> - -<p>"I wisht I'd bin born white," added Dan.</p> - -<p>"Ya, ya, dat is funny!"</p> - -<p>"Do de free colored folks live like de whites?" asked Sally.</p> - -<p>"Why, laws, yes; once when I went with Masser to L.," Nace began, "at de -tavern whar we put up, dar was a free collored man what waited on de -table, and anoder one what kipt barber-shop in de tavern. Wal, dey was -drest as nice as white men. Dar dey had dar standin' collar, and nice -cravat, and dar broadcloth, and dar white handkersher; and de barber, he -had some wool growin' on his upper lip jist like de quality men. Ya, ya, -but I sed dis am funny; so when I 'gin to talk jist as dough dey was -niggers same as I is, dey straighten 'emselves up and tell me dat I was -a speakin' to a gemman. Wal, says I, haint your faces black as mine? -Niggers aint gemmen, says I, for I thought I'd take dar airs down; but -den, dey spunk up and say dey was not niggers, but colored pussons, and -dey call one anoder Mr. Wal, I t'ought it was quare enoff; and more an' -dat, white folks speak 'spectable to 'em, jist same as dey war white. -Whole lot ob white gemmans come in de barber-shop to be shaved; and den -dey'd pay de barber, and maybe like as not, set down and talk 'long wid -him."</p> - -<p>There is no telling how long the garrulous Nace would have continued the -narration of what he saw in L—, had he not been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> suddenly interrupted -by the entrance of Miss Tildy, inquiring for Amy.</p> - -<p>Instantly all of them assumed that cheerful, smiling, sycophantic -manner, which is well known to all who have ever looked in at the -kitchen of a slaveholder. Amy stood out from the group to answer Miss -Tildy's summons. I shall never forget the expression of subdued misery -that was limned upon her face.</p> - -<p>"Come in the house and account for the loss of those forks," said Miss -Tildy, in the most peremptory manner.</p> - -<p>Amy made no reply to this; but followed the lady into the house. There -she was court-marshalled, and of course, found guilty of a high -misdemeanor.</p> - -<p>"Wal," said Mr. Peterkin, "we'll see if the 'post' can't draw from you -whar you've put 'em. Come with me."</p> - -<p>With a face the picture of despair, she followed.</p> - -<p>Upon reaching the post, she was fastened to it by the wrist and ankle -fetters; and Mr. Peterkin, foaming with rage, dipped his cowhide in the -strongest brine that could be made, and drawing it up with a flourish, -let it descend upon her uncovered back with a lacerating stroke. -Heavens! what a shriek she gave! Another blow, another and a deeper -stripe, and cry after cry came from the hapless victim!</p> - -<p>"Whar is the forks?" thundered Mr. Peterkin, "tell me, or I'll have the -worth out of yer cussed hide."</p> - -<p>"Indeed, indeed, Masser, I doesn't know."</p> - -<p>"You are a liar," and another and a severer blow.</p> - -<p>"Whar is they?"</p> - -<p>"I give 'em to Miss Jane, Masser, indeed I did."</p> - -<p>"Take that, you liar," and again he struck her, and thus he continued -until he had to stop from exhaustion. There she stood, partially naked, -bleeding at every wound, yet none of us dared go near and offer her even -a glass of cold water.</p> - -<p>"Has she told where they are?" asked Miss Tildy.</p> - -<p>"No, she says she give 'em to you."</p> - -<p>"Well, she tells an infamous lie; and I hope you will beat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> her until -pain forces her to acknowledge what she has done with them."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I'll git it out of her yet, and by blood, too."</p> - -<p>"Yes, father, Amy needs a good whipping," said Miss Jane, "for she has -been sulky ever since we took her in the house. Two or three times I've -thought of asking you to have her taken to the post."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I've noticed that she's give herself a good many ars. It does me -rale good to take 'em out of her."</p> - -<p>"Yes, father, you are a real negro-breaker. They don't dare behave badly -where you are."</p> - -<p>This, Mr. Peterkin regarded as high praise; for, whenever he related the -good qualities of a favorite friend, he invariably mentioned that he was -a "tight master;" so he smiled at his daughter's compliment.</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Miss Tildy, "whenever father approaches, the darkies should -set up the tune, 'See the conquering hero comes.'"</p> - -<p>"Good, first-rate, Tildy," replied Miss Jane.</p> - -<p>"'Till is a wit."</p> - -<p>"Yes, you are both high-larn't gals, a-head of yer pappy."</p> - -<p>"Oh, father, please don't speak in that way."</p> - -<p>"It was the fashion when I was edicated."</p> - -<p>"Just listen," they both exclaimed.</p> - -<p>"Jake," called out Mr. Peterkin, whose wrath was getting excited by the -criticisms of his daughters, "go and bring Amy here."</p> - -<p>In a few moments Jake returned, accompanied by Amy. The blood was oozing -through the body and sleeves of the frock that she had hastily thrown -on.</p> - -<p>"Whar's the spoons?" thundered out Mr. Peterkin.</p> - -<p>"I give 'em to Miss Tildy."</p> - -<p>"You are a liar," said Miss Tildy, as she dashed up to her, and struck -her a severe blow on the temple with a heated poker. Amy dared not parry -the blow; but, as she received it, she fell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> fainting to the floor. Mr. -Peterkin ordered Jake to take her out of their presence.</p> - -<p>She was taken to the cabin and left lying on the floor. When I went in -to see her, a horrid spectacle met my view! There she lay stretched upon -the floor, blood oozing from her whole body. I washed it off nicely and -greased her wounds, as poor Aunt Polly had once done for me; but these -attentions had to be rendered in a very secret manner. It would have -been called treason, and punished as such, if I had been discovered.</p> - -<p>I had scarcely got her cleansed, and her wounds dressed, before she was -sent for again.</p> - -<p>"Now," said Miss Tildy, "if you will tell me what you did with the -forks, I will excuse you; but, if you dare to say you don't know, I'll -beat you to death with this," and she held up a bunch of briery -switches, that she had tied together. Now only imagine briars digging -and scraping that already lacerated flesh, and you will not blame the -equivocation to which the poor wretch was driven.</p> - -<p>"Where are they?" asked Miss Jane, and her face was frightful as the -Medusa's.</p> - -<p>"I hid 'em under a barrel out in the back yard."</p> - -<p>"Well, go and get them."</p> - -<p>"Stay," said Miss Jane, "I'll go with you, and see if they are there."</p> - -<p>Accordingly she went off with her, but they were not there.</p> - -<p>"Now, where are they, <i>liar</i>?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Miss Jane, I put 'em here; but I 'spect somebody's done stole 'em."</p> - -<p>"No, you never put them there," said Miss Tildy. "Now tell me where they -are, or I'll give you this with a vengeance," and she shook the briers.</p> - -<p>"I put 'em in my box in the cabin."</p> - -<p>And thither they went to look for them. Not finding them there, the -tortured girl then named some other place, but with as little success -they looked elsewhere.</p> - -<p>"Now," said Miss Tildy, "I have done all that the most <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>humane or just -could demand; and I find that nothing but a touch of this can get the -truth from you, so come with me." She took her to the "lock-up," and -secured the door within. Such screams as issued thence, I pray heaven I -may never hear again. It seemed as if a fury's strength endowed Miss -Tildy's arm.</p> - -<p>When she came out she was pale from fatigue.</p> - -<p>"I've beaten that girl till I've no strength in me, and she has less -life in her; yet she will not say what she did with the forks."</p> - -<p>"I'll go in and see if I can't get it out of her," said Miss Jane.</p> - -<p>"Wait awhile, Jane, maybe she will, after a little reflection, agree to -tell the truth about it."</p> - -<p>"Never," said Miss Jane, "a nigger will never tell the truth till it is -beat out of her." So saying she took the key from Miss Tildy, and bade -me follow her. I had rather she had told me to hang myself.</p> - -<p>When she unlocked the door, I dared not look in. My eyes were riveted to -the ground until I heard Miss Jane say:</p> - -<p>"Get up, you hussy."</p> - -<p>There, lying on the ground, more like a heap of clotted gore than a -human being, I beheld the miserable Amy.</p> - -<p>"Why don't she get up?" inquired Miss Jane. I did not reply. Taking the -cowhide, she gave her a severe lick, and the wretch cried out, "Oh, -Lord!"</p> - -<p>"The Lord won't hear a liar," said Miss Jane.</p> - -<p>"Oh, what will 'come of me?"</p> - -<p>"<i>Death</i>, if you don't confess what you did with the forks."</p> - -<p>"Oh God, hab mercy! Miss Jane, please don't beat me any more. My poor -back is so sore. It aches and smarts dreadful," and she lifted up her -face, which was one mass of raw flesh; and wiping or trying to wipe the -blood away from her eyes with a piece of her sleeve that had been cut -from her body, she besought Miss Jane to have mercy on her; but the -spirit of her father was too strongly inherited for Jane Peterkin to -know aught of human pity.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p><p>"Where are the forks?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, law! oh, law!" Amy cried out, "I swar I doesn't know anything 'bout -'em."</p> - -<p>Such blows as followed I have not the heart to describe; for they -descended upon flesh already horribly mangled.</p> - -<p>The poor girl looked up to me, crying out:</p> - -<p>"Oh, Ann, beg for me."</p> - -<p>"Miss Jane," I ventured to say; but the tigress turned and struck me -such a blow across the face, that I was blinded for full five minutes.</p> - -<p>"There, take that! you impudent hussy. Do you dare to ask me not to -punish a thief?"</p> - -<p>I made no reply, but withdrew from her presence to cleanse my face from -the blood that was flowing from the wound.</p> - -<p>As I bathed my face and bound it up, I wondered if acts such as these -had ever been reported to those clergymen, who so stoutly maintain that -slavery is just, right, <i>and almost</i> available unto salvation. I cannot -think that they do understand it in all its direful wrongs. They look -upon the institution, doubtless, as one of domestic servitude, where a -strong attachment exists between the slave and his owner; but, alas! all -that is generally fabulous, worse than fictitious. I can fearlessly -assert that I never knew a single case, where this sort of feeling was -cherished. The very nature of slavery precludes the existence of such a -feeling. Read the legal definition of it as contained in the statute -books of Kentucky and Virginia, and how, I ask you, can there be, on the -slave's part, a love for his owner? Oh, no, that is the strangest -resort, the fag-end of argument; that most transparent fiction. Love, -indeed! The slave-master love his slave! Did Cain love Abel? Did Herod -love those innocents, whom, by a bloody edict, he consigned to death? In -the same category of lovers will we place the slave-owner.</p> - -<p>When Miss Jane had beaten Amy until <i>she</i> was satisfied, she came, with -a face blazing, like Mars, from the "lock-up."</p> - -<p>"Well, she confesses now, that she put the forks under the corner of a -log, near the poultry coop."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span></p><p>"Its only another one of her lies," replied Miss Tildy.</p> - -<p>"Well, if it is, I'll beat her until she tells the truth, or I'll kill -her."</p> - -<p>So saying, she started off to examine the spot. I felt that this was but -another subterfuge, devised by the poor wretch to gain a few moments' -respite.</p> - -<p>The examination proved, as I had anticipated, a failure.</p> - -<p>"What's to be done?" inquired Miss Tildy.</p> - -<p>"Leave her a few moments longer to herself, and then if the truth is not -obtained from her, kill her." These words came hissing though her -clenched teeth.</p> - -<p>"It won't do to kill her," said Miss Tildy.</p> - -<p>"I don't care much if I do."</p> - -<p>"We would be tried for murder."</p> - -<p>"Who would be our accusers? Who the witnesses? You forget that Jones is -not here to testify."</p> - -<p>"Ah, and so we are safe."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I never premeditate anything without counting the cost."</p> - -<p>"But then the loss of property!"</p> - -<p>"I'd rather gratify my revenge than have five hundred dollars, which -would be her highest market value."</p> - -<p>Tell me, honest reader, was not she, at heart, a murderess? Did she not -plan and premeditate the deed? Who were her accusers? That God whose -first law she had outraged; that same God who asked Cain for his slain -brother.</p> - -<p>"Now," said Miss Jane, after she had given the poor creature only a few -moments relief, "now let me go and see what that wretch has to say about -the forks."</p> - -<p>"More lies," added Miss Tildy.</p> - -<p>"Then her fate is sealed," said the human hyena.</p> - -<p>Turning to me, she added, in the most authoritative manner,</p> - -<p>"Come with me, and mind that you obey me; none of your impertinent -tears, or I'll give you this."</p> - -<p>And she struck me a lick across the shoulders. I can assure you I felt -but little inclination to do anything whereby such a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> penalty might be -incurred. Taking the key of the "lock up" from her pocket, she ordered -me to open the door. With a trembling hand I obeyed. Slowly the old, -rusty-hinged door swung open, and oh, heavens! what a sight it revealed! -There, in the centre of the dismal room, suspended from a spoke, about -three feet from the ground, was the body of Amy! Driven by desperation, -goaded to frenzy, she had actually hung herself! Oh, God! that fearful -sight is burnt in on my brain, with a power that no wave of Lethe can -ever wash out! There, covered with clotted blood, bruised and mangled, -hung the wretched girl! There, a bleeding, broken monument of the white -man's and white woman's cruelty! God of my sires! is there for us no -redress? And Miss Jane—what did she do? Why, she screamed, and almost -swooned with fright! Ay, too late it was to rend the welkin with her -cries of distress. She had done the deed! Upon her head rested the sin -of that freshly-shed blood! She was the real murderess. Oh, frightful -shall be her nights! Peopled with racks, execution-blocks, and ghastly -gallows-poles, shall be her dreams! At the lone hour of midnight, a wan -and bloody corse shall glide around her bed-side, and shriek into her -trembling ear the horrid word "murderess!" Let me still remain in -bondage, call me still by the ignoble title of slave, but leave me the -unbought and priceless inheritance of a stainless conscience. I am free -of murder before God and man. Still riot in your wealth; still batten on -inhumanity, women of the white complexion, but of the black hearts! I -envy you not. Still let me rejoice in a darker face, but a snowy, -self-approving conscience.</p> - -<p>Miss Jane's screams brought Mr. Peterkin, Miss Tildy and the servants to -her side. There, in front of the open door of the lock-up, they stood, -gazing upon that revolting spectacle! No word was spoken. Each regarded -the others in awe. At length, Mr. Peterkin, whose heartlessness was -equal to any emergency, spoke to Jake:</p> - -<p>"Cut down that body, and bury it instantly."</p> - -<p>With this, they all turned away from the tragical spot; but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> I, though -physically weak of nerve, still remained. That poor, bereaved girl had -been an object of interest to me; and I could not now leave her -distorted and lifeless body. Cold-hearted ones were around her; no -friendly eye looked upon her mangled corse, and I shuddered when I saw -Jake and Dan rudely handle the body upon which death had set its sacred -seal.</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>"One more unfortunate,</div> -<div class="i1">Weary of breath;</div> -<div>Rashly importunate,</div> -<div class="i1">Gone to her death.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div> * * * * *</div> -<div>Swift to be hurled,</div> -<div class="i1">Anywhere, anywhere,</div> -<div>Out of the world."</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>This I felt had been her history! This should have been her epitaph; -but, alas for her, there would be reared no recording stone. All that -she had achieved in life was the few inches of ground wherein they laid -her, and the shovel full of dirt with which they covered her. Poor -thing! I was not allowed to dress the body for the grave. Hurriedly they -dug a hole and tossed her in. I was the only one who consecrated the -obsequies with funeral tears. A coarse joy and ribald jests rang from -the lips of the grave-diggers; but I was there to weep and water the -spot with tributary tears.</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>"Perishing gloomily,</div> -<div>Spurred by contumely,</div> -<div>Cold inhumanity,</div> -<div>Burning insanity,</div> -<div class="i1">Into her rest,</div> -<div>Cross her hands humbly,</div> -<div>As if praying dumbly,</div> -<div class="i1">Over her breast."</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXV.</h2> - -<p class="center">CONVERSATION OF THE FATHER AND SON—THE DISCOVERY; ITS -CONSEQUENCES—DEATH OF THE YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL.</p> - -<p>Very lonely to me were the nights that succeeded Amy's death. I spent -them alone in the cabin. A strange kind of superstition took possession -of me! The room was peopled with unearthly guests. I buried my face in -the bed-covering, as if that could protect me or exclude supernatural -visitors. For two weeks I scarcely slept at all; and my constitution had -begun to sink under the over-taxation. This was all the worse, as Amy's -death entailed upon me a double portion of work.</p> - -<p>"What!" said Mr. Peterkin to me, one day, "are you agoin to die, too, -Ann? Any time you gits in the notion, jist let me know, and I'll give -you rope enough to do it."</p> - -<p>In this taunting way he frequently alluded to that fatal tragedy which -should have bowed his head with shame and remorse.</p> - -<p>Young master had returned, but not at all benefited by his trip. A deep -carnation was burnt into his shrivelled cheek, and he walked with a -feeble, tottering step. The least physical exertion would bring on a -violent paroxysm of coughing. The unnatural glitter of his eye, with its -purple surroundings, gave me great uneasiness; but he was the same -gentle, kind-spoken young master that he had ever been. His glossy, -golden hair had a dead, dry appearance; whilst his chest was fearfully -sunken; yet his father refused to believe that all these marks were the -heralds of the great enemy's approach.</p> - -<p>"The spring will cure you, my boy."</p> - -<p>"No, father, the spring is coming fast; but long before its<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> flowers -begin to scent the vernal gales, I shall have passed through the narrow -gateway of the tomb."</p> - -<p>"No, it shall not be. All my money shall go to save you."</p> - -<p>"I am purchased, father, with a richer price than gold; the inestimable -blood of the Lamb has long since paid my ransom; I go to my father in -heaven."</p> - -<p>"Oh, my son! you want to go; you want to leave me. You do not love your -father."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I do love you, father, very dearly; and I would that you were -going with me to that lovely land."</p> - -<p>"I shill never go thar."</p> - -<p>"'Tis that fear that is killing me, father."</p> - -<p>"What could I, now, do to be saved?"</p> - -<p>"Believe in the Lord Jesus, and be baptized."</p> - -<p>"Is that all?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, that is all; but it embraces a good deal, dear father; a good deal -more than most persons deserve. In order to a perfect belief in the Lord -Jesus, you must act consistently with that belief. You must deal justly. -Abundantly give to the poor, and, above all, you must love mercy, and do -mercifully to all. Now I approach the great subject upon which I fear -you will stumble. You must," and he pronounced the words very slowly, -"liberate your slaves." There was a fair gleam from his eyes when he -said this.</p> - -<p>Mr. Peterkin turned uneasily in his chair. He did not wish to encourage -a conversation upon this subject.</p> - -<p>One evening, when it had been raining for two or three days, and the -damp condition of the atmosphere had greatly increased young master's -complaint, he called me to his bedside.</p> - -<p>"Ann," he said, in that deep, sepulchral tone, "I wish to ask you a -question, and I urge you not to deceive me. Remember I am dying, and it -will be a great crime to tell me a falsehood."</p> - -<p>I assured him that I would answer him with a faithful regard to truth.</p> - -<p>"Then tell me what occasioned Amy's death? Did she come to it by -violence?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p><p>I shall never forget the deep, penetrating glance that he fixed upon -me. It was an inquiry that went to my soul. I could not have answered -him falsely.</p> - -<p>Calmly, quietly, and without exaggeration, I told him all the -circumstances of her death.</p> - -<p>"Murder!" he exclaimed, "murder, foul and most unnatural!"</p> - -<p>I saw him wipe the tears from his hollow eyes, and that sunken chest -heaved with vivid emotion.</p> - -<p>Mr. Peterkin came in, and was much surprised to find young master so -excited.</p> - -<p>"What is the matter, my boy?"</p> - -<p>"The same old trouble, father, these unfortunate negroes."</p> - -<p>"Hang 'em; let them go to the d—l, at once. They are not worth all this -consarn on your part."</p> - -<p>"Father, they possess immortal souls, and are a part of Christ's -purchase."</p> - -<p>"Oh, that kind of talk does very well for preachers and church members."</p> - -<p>"It should do for all humanity."</p> - -<p>"I doesn't know what pity means whar a nigger is consarned."</p> - -<p>"And 'tis this feeling in you that has cost me my life."</p> - -<p>"Confound thar black hides. Every one of 'em that ever growed in Afriky -isn't worth that price."</p> - -<p>"Their souls are as precious in God's eyes as ours, and the laws of man -should recognize their lives as valuable."</p> - -<p>"Oh, now, my boy! don't talk any more 'bout it. It only 'stresses you -for nothing."</p> - -<p>"No, it distresses me for a great deal. For the value of -Christ-purchased souls."</p> - -<p>Mr. Peterkin concluded the argument as he usually did, when it reached a -knotty point, by leaving. All that evening I noticed that young master -was unusually restless and feverish. His mournful eyes would follow me -withersoever I moved about the room. From the constant and earnest -movement of his lips, I knew that he was engaged in prayer.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span></p><p>When Miss Bradly came in and looked at him, I thought, from the -frightened expression of her face, that she detected some alarming -symptoms. This apprehension was confirmed by the manner of Dr. Mandy. -All the rest of the evening I wandered near Miss Bradly and the doctor, -trying to catch, from their conversation, what they thought of young -master's condition; but they were very guarded in what they said, well -knowing how acutely sensitive Mr. Peterkin was on the subject. Miss Jane -and Miss Tildy did not appear in the least anxious or uneasy about him. -They sewed away upon their silks and laces, never once thinking that the -angel of death was hovering over their household and about to snatch -from their embrace one of their most cherished idols. Verily, oh, Death, -thou art like a thief in the night; with thy still, feline tread, thou -enterest our chambers and stealest our very breath away without one -admonition of thy coming!</p> - -<p>But not so came he to young master. As a small-voiced angel, with -blessings concealed beneath his shadowy wing, he came, the herald of -better days to him! As a well-loved bridegroom to a waiting bride, was -the angel of the tombs to that expectant spirit! 'Twas painful, yet -pleasant, to watch with what patient courage he endured bodily pain. -Often, unnoticed by him, did I watch, with a terrible fascination, the -heroic struggle with which he wrestled with suffering and disease. Sad -and piteous were the shades and inflections of severe agony that passed -over his noble face! I recall now with sorrow, the memory of that time! -How well, in fancy, can I see him, as he lay upon that downy bed, with -his beautiful gold hair thrown far back from his sunken temples, his -blue, upturned eyes, fringed by their lashes of fretted gold, and those -pale, thin hands that toyed so fitfully with the drapery of the couch, -and the restless, loving look which he so frequently cast upon each of -the dear ones who drew around him. It must be that the "sun-set of life" -gives us a keener, quicker sense, else why do we love the more fondly as -the curtain of eternity begins to descend upon us? Surely, there must be -a deeper, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span>undeveloped sense lying beneath the surface of general -feeling, which only the tightening of life's cords can reveal! He grew -gentler, if possible, as his death approached. Very heavenly seemed he -in those last, most trying moments! All that had ever been earthly of -him, began to recede; the fleshly taints (if there were any) grew -fainter and fainter, and the glorious spiritual predominated! Angel more -than mortal, seemed he. The lessons which his life taught me have sunk -deep in my nature; and I can well say, "it was good for him to have been -here."</p> - -<p>It was a few weeks after the death of Amy, when Miss Tildy was -overlooking the bureau that contained the silver and glass ware, she -gave a sudden exclamation, that, without knowing why, startled me very -strangely. A thrill passed over my frame, an icy contraction of the -nerves, and I knew that something awful was about to be revealed.</p> - -<p>"What <i>is</i> the matter with you?" asked Miss Jane.</p> - -<p>Still she made no reply, but buried her face in her hands, and remained -thus for several minutes; when she did look up, I saw that something -terrible was working in her breast. "Culprit," was written all over her -face. It was visible in the downcast terror of her eye, and in the -blanched contraction of the lips, and quivered in the dilating nostril, -and was stamped upon the whitening brow!</p> - -<p>"What ails you, Tildy?" again inquired her sister.</p> - -<p>"<i>Why, look here!</i>" and she held up, to my terror, the two missing -forks!</p> - -<p>Oh, heavens! and for her own carelessness and mistake had Amy been -sacrificed? I make no comment. I merely state the case, and leave others -to draw their own conclusions. Yet, this much I will add, that there -were no Caucasian witnesses to the bloody deed, therefore no legal -cognizance could be taken of it! Most noble and righteous American laws! -Who that lives beneath your shelter, would dare to say they are not wise -and sacred as the laws of the Decalogue? Thrice a day should their -authors go up into the Temple, and thank our Lord that they are not like -publicans and sinners.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></p><p>One evening—oh! I shall long remember it, as one full of sacredness, -full of sorrow, and yet tinged with a hue of heaven! It was in the deep, -delicious beauty of the flowering month of May. The twilight was -unusually red and refulgent. The evening star shone like the full eye of -love upon the dreamy earth! The flowers, each with a dew-pearl -glittering on its petals, lay lulled by the calm of the hour. Young -master, fair saint, lay on his bed near the open window, through which -the scented gales stole sweetly, and fanned his wasted cheek! Thick and -hard came his breath, and we, who stood around him, could almost see the -presence of the "monster grim," whose skeleton arms were fast locking -him about!</p> - -<p>Flitting round the bed, like a guardian spirit, was Miss Bradly, whilst -her tearful eye never wandered for an instant from that face now growing -rigid with the kiss of death! Miss Jane stood at the head of the bed -wiping the cold damps from his brow, and Miss Tildy was striving to -impart some of her animal warmth to his icy feet. Mr. Peterkin sat with -one of those thin hands grasped within his own, as if disputing and -defying the advance of that enemy whom no man is strong enough to -baffle.</p> - -<p>Slowly the invalid turned upon his couch, and, looking out upon the -setting sun, he heaved a deep sigh.</p> - -<p>"Father," he said, as he again turned his face toward Mr. Peterkin, who -still clasped his hand, "do you not know from my failing pulse, that my -life is almost spent?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, my boy, it is too, too hard to give you up."</p> - -<p>"Yet you <i>must</i> nerve yourself for it.</p> - -<p>"I have no nerve to meet this trouble."</p> - -<p>"Go to God, He will give you ease."</p> - -<p>"I want Him to give me you."</p> - -<p>"Me He lent you for a little while. Now He demands me at your hands, and -His requisition you must obey."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I won't give up; maybe you'll yet be spared to me."</p> - -<p>"No, God's decree it is, that I should go."</p> - -<p>"It cannot, shall not be."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span></p><p>"Father, father, you do but blaspheme."</p> - -<p>"I will do anything rather than see you die."</p> - -<p>"I am willing to die. I have only one request to make of you. Will you -grant it? If you refuse me, I shall die wretched and unhappy."</p> - -<p>"I will promise you anything."</p> - -<p>"But will you keep your promise?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, my boy."</p> - -<p>"Do you promise most faithfully?"</p> - -<p>"I do."</p> - -<p>"Then promise me that you will instantly manumit your slaves."</p> - -<p>Mr. Peterkin hesitated a moment.</p> - -<p>"Father, I shall not die happy, if you refuse me."</p> - -<p>"Then I promise faithfully to do it."</p> - -<p>A glad smile broke over the sufferer's face, like a sunbeam over a -snow-cloud.</p> - -<p>"Now, at least I can die contentedly! God will bless your effort, and a -great weight has been removed from my oppressed heart."</p> - -<p>Dr. Mandy now entered the room; and, taking young master's hand within -his own, began to count the pulsations. A very ominous change passed -over his face.</p> - -<p>"Oh, doctor," cried the patient, "I read from your countenance the -thoughts that agitate your mind; but do not fear to make the disclosure -to my friends even here. It will do me no harm. I know that my hours are -numbered; but I am willing, nay, anxious to go. Life has been one round -of pain, and now, as I am about to leave the world, I take with me a -blessed assurance that I have not lived in vain. Doctor, I call upon -you, and all the dear ones here present, to witness the fact that my -father has most solemnly promised me to liberate each of his slaves and -never again become the holder of such property? Father, do you not -promise before these witnesses?"</p> - -<p>"I do, my child, I do," said the weeping father.</p> - -<p>"Sisters," continued young master, "will you promise to urge<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> or offer -no objection to the furtherance of this sacred wish of your dying -brother?"</p> - -<p>"I do," "I do," they simultaneously exclaimed.</p> - -<p>"And neither of you will ever become the owner of slaves?"</p> - -<p>"Never," "never," was the stifled reply.</p> - -<p>"Come, now, Death, for I am ready for thee!"</p> - -<p>"You have exerted yourself too much already," said the doctor, "now pray -take this cordial and try to rest; you have overtaxed your power. Your -strength is waning fast."</p> - -<p>"No, doctor, I cannot be silent; whilst I've the strength, pray let me -talk. I wish this death-bed to be an example. Call in the servants. Let -me speak with them. I wish to devote my power, all that is left of me -now, to them."</p> - -<p>To this Mr. Peterkin and the doctor objected, alleging that his life -required quiet.</p> - -<p>"Do not think of me, kind friends, I shall soon be safe, and am now -well-cared for. If I did not relieve myself by speech, the anxiety would -kill me. As a kind favor, I beg that you will not interrupt me. Call the -good servants."</p> - -<p>Instantly they all, headed by Nace, came into the chamber, each weeping -bitterly.</p> - -<p>"Good friends," he began, and now I noticed that his voice was weak and -trembling, "I am about to leave you. On earth you will never see me -again; but there is a better world, where I trust to meet you all. You -have been faithful and attentive to me. I thank you from the bottom of -my soul for it, and, if ever I have been harsh or unkind to you in any -way, I now beg that you will forgive me. Do not weep," he continued, as -their loud sobs began to drown his feeble voice. "Do not weep, I am -going to a happy home, where trouble and pain will never harm me more. -Now let me tell you, that my father has promised me that each of you -shall be free immediately after my death."</p> - -<p>This announcement was like a panic to the poor, broken-spirited -wretches. They looked wonderingly at young master, and then at each -other, never uttering a word.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></p><p>"Come, do not look so bewildered. Ah, you do not believe me; but, good -as is this news, it is true; is it not, father?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, my son, it is true."</p> - -<p>When Mr. Peterkin spoke, they simultaneously started. That voice had -power to recall them from the wildest dream of romance. Though softened -by sorrow and suffering, there was still enough of the wonted harshness -to make those poor wretches know it was Mr. Peterkin who spoke, and they -quaked with fear.</p> - -<p>"In the new home and new position in life, which you will take, my -friends, I hope you will not forget me; but, above all things, try to -save your souls. Go to church; pray much and often. Place yourselves -under God's protection, and all will be right. You, Jake, had better -select as an occupation that of a farmer, or manager of a farm for some -one of those wealthy but humane men of the Northern States. You, Dan, -can make an excellent dray driver; and at that business, in some of the -Northern cities, you would make money. Sally can get a situation as -cook; and Ann, where is Ann?" he said, as he looked around.</p> - -<p>I stepped out from a retired corner of the room, into which I had shrunk -for the purpose of indulging my grief unobserved.</p> - -<p>"Don't weep, Ann," he began; "you distress me when you do so. You ought, -rather, to rejoice, because I shall so soon be set free from this -unhappy condition. If you love me, prepare to meet me in heaven. This -earth is not our home; 'tis but a transient abiding-place, and, to one -of my sensitive temperament, it has been none the happiest. I am glad -that I am going; yet a few pangs I feel, in bidding you farewell; but -think of me only as one gone upon a pleasant journey from snow-clad -regions to a land smiling with tropic beauty, rich in summer bloom and -vocal with the melody of southern birds! Think of me as one who has -exchanged the garments of a beggar for the crown of a king and the -singing-robes of a prophet. I hope you will do well in life, and I would -advise that you improve your education, and then become a teacher. You -are fitted for that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>position. You could fill it with dignity. Do all -you can to elevate the mind as well as manners of your most unfortunate -race. And now, poor old Nace, what pursuit must I recommend to you?" -After a moment's pause, he added with a smile, "I will point out none; -for you are Yankee enough, Nace, to get along anywhere."</p> - -<p>He then requested that we should all kneel, whilst he besought for us -and himself the blessings of Divine grace.</p> - -<p>I can never forget the words of that beautiful prayer. How like fairy -pearls they fell from his lips! And I do not think there was a single -heart present that did not send out a fervent response! It seemed as if -his whole soul were thrown into that one burning appeal to heaven. His -mellow eyes grew purple in their intense passionateness; his pale lip -quivered; and the throbbing veins, that wandered so blue and beautifully -through his temples, were swollen with the rapid tide of emotion.</p> - -<p>As we rose from our knees, he elevated himself upon his elbow, and -looking earnestly at each one of us, said solemnly,</p> - -<p>"God bless all of you!" then sank back upon the pillow; a bright smile -flitted over his face, and he held his hand out to Miss Bradly, who -clasped it lovingly.</p> - -<p>"Good-bye, kind friend," he murmured, "never forsake the noble -Anti-slavery cause. Cling to it as a rock and anchor of safety. -Good-bye, and God bless you."</p> - -<p>He then gave his other hand to Dr. Mandy, but, in attempting to speak, -he was checked by a violent attack of coughing, and blood gushed from -his mouth. The doctor endeavored to arrest the flow, but in vain; the -crimson tide, like a stream broken loose from its barrier, flowed with a -stifling rush.</p> - -<p>Soon we discovered, from the ghastly whiteness of the patient's face, -and the calm, set stare of the eyes, that his life was almost gone. Oh, -God! how hard, pinched and contracted appeared those once beauteous -features! How terrible was the blank fixedness of those blue orbs! No -motion of the hand could distract their look.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p><p>"Heavens!" cried Miss Jane, "his eyes are set!"</p> - -<p>"No, no," exclaimed Mr. Peterkin, and with many gestures, he attempted -to draw the staring eyes away from the object upon which they were -fastened; but vain were all his endeavors. He had no power to call back -a parting spirit; he, who had sent others to an unblest grave, could not -now breathe fresh vigor into a frame over which Death held his skeleton -arm. Where was Remorse, the unsleeping fiend, in that moment?</p> - -<p>I was looking earnestly at young master's face, when the great change -passed over it. I saw Dr. Mandy slowly press down the marble eye-lids -and gently straighten the rigid limbs; then, very softly turning to the -friends, whose faces were hidden by their clasped hands, he murmured,</p> - -<p>"All is over!"</p> - -<p>Great heaven! what screams burst from the afflicted family.</p> - -<p>Mr. Peterkin was crazy. His grief knew no bounds! He raved, he tore his -hair, he struck his breast violently, and then blasphemed. He did -everything but pray. And that was a thing so unfamiliar to him, that he -did not know how to do it. Miss Jane swooned, whilst Miss Tildy raved -out against the injustice of Providence in taking her brother from her.</p> - -<p>Miss Bradly and I laid the body out, dressed it in a suit of pure white, -and filletted his golden curls with a band of white rose-buds. Like a -gentle infant resting in its first, deep sleep, lay he there!</p> - -<p>After spreading the snowy drapery over the body, Miss Bradly covered all -the furniture with white napkins, giving to the room the appearance of a -death-like chill. There were no warm, rosy, life-like tints. Upon -entering it, the very heart grew icy and still. The family, one by one, -retired to their own apartments for the indulgence of private and sacred grief!</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXVI.</h2> - -<p class="center">THE FUNERAL—MISS BRADLY'S DEPARTURE—THE DISPUTE—SPIRIT QUESTIONS.</p> - -<p>When I entered the kitchen, I found the servants still weeping violently.</p> - -<p>"Poor soul," said Sally, "he's at rest now. If he hain't gone to heaven, -'taint no use of havin' any; fur he war de best critter I iver seed. He -never gived me a cross word in all his life-time. Oh, Lord, he am gone -now!"</p> - -<p>"I 'members de time, when Mister Jones whipt me, dat young masser comed -to me wid some grease and rubbed me all over, and talked so kind to me. -Den he tell me not to say nothin' 'bout it, and I niver did mention it -from dat day until dis."</p> - -<p>"Wal, he was mighty good," added Jake, "and I's sorry he's dead."</p> - -<p>"I'se glad he got us our freedom afore he died. I wonder if we'll git -it?" asked Nace, who was always intent upon selfishness.</p> - -<p>"Laws! didn't he promise? Den he mus' keep his word," added Jake.</p> - -<p>I made no comment. My thoughts upon the subject I kept locked in the -depths of my own bosom. I knew then, as now, that natures like Mr. -Peterkin's could be changed only by the interposition of a miracle. He -had now shrunk beneath the power of a sudden blow of misfortune; but -this would soon pass away, and the savage nature would re-assert itself.</p> - -<p>All that gloomy night, I watched with Miss Bradly and Dr. Mandy beside -the corpse. Often whilst the others dozed, would I steal to the bed and -turn down the covering, to gaze upon that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> still pale face! Reverently I -placed my hand upon that rich golden head, with its band of flowers.</p> - -<p>There is an angel-like calm in the repose of death; a subdued awe that -impresses the coldest and most unbelieving hearts! As I looked at that -still body, which had so lately been illumined by a radiant soul, and -saw the noble look which the face yet wore, I inwardly exclaimed, 'Tis -well for those who sleep in the Lord!</p> - -<p>All that long night I watched and waited, hoped and prayed. The deep, -mysterious midnight passed, with all its fearful power of passion and -mystery; the still, small hours glided on as with silver slippers, and -then came the purple glory of a spring dawn! I left the chamber of -death, and went out to muse in the hazy day-break. And, as I there -reflected, my soul grew sick and sore afraid. One by one my friends had -been falling around me, and now I stood alone. There was no kind voice -to cheer me on; no gentle, loving hand stretched forth to aid me; no -smile of friendship to encourage me. In the thickest of the fight, -unbucklered, I must go. Up the weary, craggy mountain I must climb. The -burning sands I must tread alone! What wonder that my spirit, weak and -womanly, trembled and turned away, asking for the removal of the cup of -life! Only the slave can comprehend the amount of agony that I endured. -He alone who clanks the chain of African bondage, can know what a cloud -of sorrow swept over my heart.</p> - -<p>I saw the great sun rise, like a blood-stained gladiator, in the East, -and the diamond dew that glittered in his early light. I saw the roses -unclose fragrantly to his warming call; yet my heart was chill. Through -the flower-decked grounds I walked, and the aroma of rarest blooms -filled my senses with delight, yet woke no answering thrill in my bosom. -Must it not be wretchedness indeed, when the heart refuses to look -around upon blooming, vernal Nature, and answer her with a smile of -freshness?</p> - -<p>A little after daylight I re-entered the house, and found Miss Bradly -dozing in a large arm-chair, with one hand thrown upon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> the cover of the -bed where lay young master's body. Dr. Mandy was outstretched upon the -lounge in a profound sleep. The long candles had burnt very low in the -sockets, and every now and then sent up that flicker, which has been so -often likened to the struggles of expiring humanity. I extinguished -them, and closed the shutters, to exclude the morning rays that would -else have stolen in to mar the rest of those who needed sleep. Then -returning to the yard, I culled a fresh bouquet and placed it upon the -breast of the dead. Gently touching Miss Bradly, I roused her and begged -that she would seek some more comfortable quarters, whilst I watched -with the body. She did so, having first imprinted a kiss upon the brow -of the heavenly sleeper.</p> - -<p>When she withdrew, I took from my apron a bundle of freshly-gathered -flowers, and set about weaving fairy chains and garlands, which I -scattered in fantastic profusion over and around the body.</p> - -<p>A beautiful custom is it to decorate the dead with fresh flowers! There -is something in the delicate, fairy-like perfume, and in the magical -shadings and formation of flowers, that make them appropriate offerings -to the dead. Strange mystical things that they are, seemingly instinct -with a new and inchoate life; breathing in their heavenly fragrance of a -hidden blessing, telling a story which our dull ears of clay can never -comprehend. Symbols of diviner being, expressions of quickening beauty, -we understand ye not. We only <i>feel</i> that ye are God's richest blessing -to us, therefore we offer ye to our loved and holy dead!</p> - -<p>When the broad daylight began to beam in through the crevices of the -shutters, and noise of busy life sounded from without, the family rose. -Separately they entered the room, each turning down the spread, and -gazing tearfully upon the ghastly face. Often and often they kissed the -brow, cheek, and lips.</p> - -<p>"How lovely he was in life," said Miss Jane.</p> - -<p>"Indeed he was, and he is now an angel," replied Miss Tildy, with a -fresh gush of emotion.</p> - -<p>"My poor, poor boy," said Mr. Peterkin, as he sank down on the bed -beside the body; "how proud I was of him. I allers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> knowed he'd be tuck -'way from me. He was too putty an' smart an' good fur this world. My -heart wus so sot on him! yit sometimes he almost run me crazy. I don't -think it was just in Providence to take my only boy. I could have better -spared one of the gals. Oh, tain't right, no how it can be fixed."</p> - -<p>And thus he rambled on, perfectly unconscious of the bold blasphemy -which he was uttering with every breath he drew. To impugn the justice -of his Maker's decrees was a common practice with him. He had so long -rejoiced in power, and witnessed the uncomplaining vassalage of slaves, -that he began to regard himself as the very highest constituted -authority! This is but one of the corrupting influences of the -slave-system.</p> - -<p>That long, wearing day, with its weight of speechless grief, passed at -last. The neighbors came and went. Each praised the beauty of the -corpse, and inquired who had dressed it. At length the day closed, and -was succeeded by a lovely twilight. Another night, with its star-fretted -canopy, its queenly, slow-moving moon, its soft aromatic air and pearly -dew. And another gray, hazy day-break, yet still, as before, I watched -near the dead. But on the afternoon of this day, there came a long, -black coffin, with its silver plate and mountings; its interior -trimmings of white satin and border of lace, and within this they laid -the form of young master! His pale, fair hands were crossed prayerfully -upon his breast; and a fillet of fresh white buds bound his smooth brow, -whilst a large bouquet lay on his breast, and the wreaths I had woven -were thrown round him and over his feet. Then the lid was placed on and -tightly screwed down. Then came the friends and neighbors, and a good -man who read the Bible and preached a soothing and ennobling sermon. The -friends gave one more look, another, a longer and more clinging kiss, -then all was over. The slow procession followed after the vehicle that -carried the coffin, the servants walking behind. Poor, uncared-for -slaves, as we were, we paid a heart-felt tribute to his memory, and -watered his new-made grave with as sincere tears as ever flowed from -eyes that had looked on happier times.</p> - -<p>I lingered until long after the last shovel-full of dirt was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> thrown -upon him. Others, even his kindred, had left the spot ere I turned away. -That little narrow grave was dearer and nearer to me, as there it lay so -fresh and damp, shapen smoothly with the sexton's spade, than when, -several weeks after, a patrician obelisk reared its Parian head towards -the blue sky. I have always looked upon grave-monuments as stony -barriers, shutting out the world from the form that slowly moulders -below. When the wild moss and verdant sward alone cover the grave, 'tis -easy for us to imagine death only a sleep; but the grave-stone, with its -carvings and frescoes, seems a sort of prison, cold and grim in its -aristocratic splendor. For the grave of those whom I love, I ask no -other decoration than the redundant grass, the enamelled mosaic of wild -flowers, a stream rolling by with its dirge-like chime, a weeping -willow, and a moaning dove.</p> - -<p>The shades of evening were falling darkly ere I left the burial-ground. -There, amid the graves of his ancestors, beside the tomb of his mother, -I left him sleeping pleasantly. "Life's fitful fever over," his calm -soul rests well.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * *</p> - -<p>In a few weeks after his death, the family settled back to their -original manner of life. Mr. Peterkin grew sulky in his grief. He chewed -and drank incessantly. The remonstrances of his daughters had no effect -upon him. He took no notice of them, seemed almost to ignore their -existence. Feeding sullenly on his own rooted sorrow, he cared nothing -for those around him.</p> - -<p>We, the servants, had been allowed a rather better time; for as he was -entirely occupied with his own moody reflections, he bestowed upon us no -thought. Yet we had heard no word about his compliance with the sacred -promise he had made to the dead. Did he feel no touch of remorse, or was -he so entirely sold to the d—l, as to be incapable of regret?</p> - -<p>The young ladies had been busy making up their mourning, and took but -little notice of domestic affairs. Miss Jane concluded to postpone her -visit to the city, on account of their <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span>recent bereavement; but later in -the summer, she proposed going.</p> - -<p>One afternoon, several weeks after the burial of young master, Miss -Bradly came over to see the ladies, for the purpose, as she said, of -bidding them farewell, as early on the following morning she expected to -start North, to rejoin her family, from whom she had been so long -separated. Miss Jane received the announcement with her usual haughty -smile; and Miss Tildy, who was rather more of a hypocrite, expressed -some regret at parting from her old teacher.</p> - -<p>"I fear, dear girls, that you will soon forget me. I hoped that an -intimate friendship had grown up between us, which nothing could -destroy; but it seems as if, in the last half-year, you have ceased to -love me, or care for me."</p> - -<p>"I can only answer for myself, dear Miss Bradly," said Miss Tildy, "and -I shall ever gratefully and fondly remember you, and my interesting -school-days."</p> - -<p>"So shall I pleasantly recollect my school-hours, and Miss Bradly as our -preceptress; and, had she not chosen to express and defend those awfully -disgraceful and incendiary principles of the North, I should have -continued to think of her with pleasure." Miss Jane said this with her -freezing air of hauteur.</p> - -<p>"But I remained silent, dear Jane, for years. I lived in your midst, in -the very families where slave-labor was employed; yet I molested none. I -did not inveigh against your peculiar domestic institution; though, -Heaven knows, every principle of my nature cried out against it. Surely -for all this I deserve some kind consideration."</p> - -<p>"'Tis a great pity your prudence did not hold out to the last; and I can -assure you 'tis well for the safety of your life and person that you -were a woman, else would it have gone hard with you. Kited through the -streets with a coat of tar and a plumage of hen-feathers, you would have -been treated to a rail-ride, none the most complimentary." Here Miss -Jane laughed heartily at the ridiculous picture she had drawn.</p> - -<p>Miss Bradly's face reddened deeply as she replied:</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span></p><p>"And all this would have been inflicted upon me because I dared to have -an opinion upon a subject of vital import to this our proud Republic. -This would have been the gracious hospitality, which, as chivalry-loving -Southerners, you would have shown to a stranger from the North! If this -be your mode and manner of carrying out the Comity of States, I am -heartily glad that I am about returning to the other side of the -border."</p> - -<p>"And we give you joy of your swift return. Pray, tell all your Abolition -friends that such will be their reception, should they dare to venture -among us."</p> - -<p>"Yet, as with tearful eyes you stood round your brother's death-bed, you -solemnly promised him that his dying wish, with regard to the liberation -of your father's slaves, should be carried out, and that you would never -become the owner of such property."</p> - -<p>"Stop! stop!" exclaimed Miss Jane, and her face was livid with rage, -"you have no right to recur to that time. You are inhuman to introduce -it at this moment. Every one of common sense knows that brother was too -young to have formed a correct opinion upon a question of such momentous -value to the entire government; besides, a promise made to the dying is -never binding. Why should it be? We only wished to relieve him from -anxiety. Father would sell every drop of his blood before he would grant -a negro liberty. He is against it in principle. So am I. Negroes were -made to serve the whites; for that purpose only were they created, and I -am not one who is willing to thwart their Maker's wise design."</p> - -<p>Miss Jane imagined she had spoken quite conclusively and displayed a -vast amount of learning. She looked around for admiration and applause, -which was readily given her by her complimentary sister.</p> - -<p>"Ah, Jane, you should have been a man, and practiced law. The courts -would have been the place for the display of your brilliant talents."</p> - -<p>"But the halls of legislation would not, I fear," said Miss<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> Bradly, -"have had the benefit of her wise, just, and philanthropic views."</p> - -<p>"I should never have allowed the Abolitionists their present weight of -influence, whilst the power of speech and the strength of action -remained to me," answered Miss Jane, very tartly.</p> - -<p>"Oh no, doubtless you would have met the Douglas in his hall, and the -lion in his den," laughingly replied Miss Bradly.</p> - -<p>Thus the conversation was carried on, upon no very friendly terms, until -Miss Jane espied me, when she thundered out,</p> - -<p>"Leave the room, Ann, we've no use for negro company here, unless, -indeed, as I think most probable, Miss Bradly came to visit you, in -which case she had better be shown to the kitchen."</p> - -<p>This insult roused Miss Bradly's resentment, and she rose, saying,</p> - -<p>"Young ladies, I came this evening to take a pleasant adieu, little -expecting to meet with such treatment; but be it as you wish; I take my -leave;" and, with a slight inclination of the head, she departed.</p> - -<p>"Oh, she is insulted!" cried Miss Tildy.</p> - -<p>"I don't care if she is, we owe her nothing. For teaching us she was -well paid; now let her take care of herself."</p> - -<p>"I am going after her to say I did not wish to insult her; for really, -notwithstanding her Abolition sentiments, I like her very much, and I -wish her always to like me."</p> - -<p>So she started off and overtook Miss Bradly at the gate. The explanation -was, I presume, accepted, for they parted with kisses and tears.</p> - -<p>That evening, when I was serving the table, Miss Jane reported the -conversation to her father, who applauded her manner of argument -greatly.</p> - -<p>"Set my niggers free, indeed! Catch me doing any such foolish thing. I'd -sooner be shot. Don't you look for anything of the kind, Ann; I'd sooner -put you in my pocket."</p> - -<p>And this was the way he kept a sacred promise to his dead son! But cases -such as this are numerous. The negro is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> lulled with promises by humane -masters—promises such as those that led the terror-stricken Macbeth on -to his fearful doom. They</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>"Keep the word of promise to the ear,</div> -<div>But break it to the hope."</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>How many of them are trifled with and lured on; buoyed up from year to -year with stories, which those who tell them are resolved shall never be -realized.</p> - -<p>My memory runs back now to some such wretched recollections; and my -heart shrivels and crumbles at the bare thought, like scorched paper. -Oh, where is there to be found injustice like that which the American -slaves daily and hourly endure, without a word of complaint? "We die -daily"—die to love, to hope, to feeling, humanity, and all the high and -noble gifts that make existence something more than a mere breathing -span. We die to all enlargement of mind and expansion of heart. Our -every energy is bound down with many bolts and bars; yet whole folios -have been written by men calling themselves wise, to prove that we are -by far the happiest portion of the population of this broad Union! What -a commentary upon the liberality of free men!</p> - -<p>After the conversation with Miss Bradly, the young ladies began to -resume their old severity, which the death of young master had checked; -but Mr. Peterkin still seemed moody and troubled. He drank to a -frightful excess. It seemed to have increased his moroseness. He slept -sounder at night, and later in the morning, and was swollen and bloated -to almost twice his former dimensions. His face was a dark crimson -purple; he spoke but little, and then never without an oath. His -daughters remarked the change, but sought not to dissuade him. Perhaps -they cared not if his excesses were followed by death. I had long known -that they treated him with respect only out of apprehension that they -would be cut short of patrimonial favors. But the death of young master -had almost certainly insured them against this, and they were unusually -insolent to their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> father; but this he appeared not to notice; for he -was too sottishly drunk even to heed them.</p> - -<p>The necessity of wearing black, and the custom of remaining away from -places of amusement, had forced Miss Jane to decline, or at least, -postpone her trip to the city.</p> - -<p>I shall ever remember that summer as one of unusual luxuriance. It -seemed to me, that the forests were more redundant of foliage than I had -ever before seen them. The wild flowers were gayer and brighter, and the -sky of a more glorious blue; even the little feathered songsters sang -more deliciously; and oh, the moonlight nights seemed wondrously soft -and silvery, and the hosts of stars seven times multiplied! I began to -live again. Away through the old primeval woods I took occasionally a -stolen ramble! Whole volumes of romance I drained from the ever-affluent -library of Nature. I truly found—</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>"Tongues in the trees; books, in the running brooks,</div> -<div>Sermons in stones, and good in everything."</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>It is impossible to imagine how much I enjoyed those solitary walks, few -and far between as they were. I used to wonder why the ladies did not -more enjoy the luxury of frequent communion with Nature in her loveliest -haunts! Strange, is it not, how little the privileged class value the -pleasures and benefits by which they are surrounded! I would have given -ten years of my life (though considering my trouble, the sacrifice would -have been small) to be allowed to linger long beside the winding, -murmuring brook, or recline at the fountain, looking far away into the -impenetrable blue above; or to gather wild flowers at will, and toy with -their tiny leaflets! but indulgences such as these would have been -condemned and punished as indolence.</p> - -<p>I cannot now, honestly, recall a single pleasure that was allowed me, -during my long slavery to Mr. Peterkin. Then who can ask me, if I would -not rather go back into bondage than <i>live</i>, aye <i>live</i> (that is the -word), with the proud sense of freedom mine? I have often been asked if -the burden of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span>finding food and raiment for myself was not great enough -to make me wish to resign my liberty. No, a thousand times no! Let me go -half-clad, and meanly fed, but still give me the custody of my own -person, without a master to spy into and question out my up-risings and -down-sittings, and confine me like a leashed hound! Slavery in its -mildest phases (of which I have <i>only</i> heard, for I've always seen it in -its darker terrors) must be unhappy. The very knowledge that you have no -control over yourself, that you are subject to the will, even whim, of -another; that every privilege you enjoy is yours only by concession, not -right, must depress and all but madden the victim. In no situation, with -no flowery disguises, can the revolting institution be made consistent -with the free-agency of man, which we all believe to be the Divine gift. -We have been and are cruelly oppressed; why may we not come out with our -petition of right, and declare ourselves independent? For this were the -infant colonies applauded; who then shall inveigh against us for a -practice of the same heroism? Every word contained in their admirable -Declaration, applies to us.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXVII.</h2> - -<p class="center">THE AWFUL CONFESSION OF THE MASTER—DEATH; ITS COLD SOLEMNITY.</p> - -<p>Time passed on; Mr. Peterkin drank more and more violently. He had grown -immense in size, and now slept nearly all the day as well as night. Dr. -Mandy had told the young ladies that there was great danger of apoplexy. -I frequently saw them standing off, talking, and looking at their father -with a strange expression, the meaning of which I could not divine; but -sure I am there was no love in it, 'twas more like a surmise or inquiry, -"How long will you be here?" I would not "set down aught in malice," I -would rather "extenuate," yet am I bound in truth to say that I think -their father's death was an event to which they looked with pleasure. He -had not been showy enough for them, nor had he loved such display as -they wished: true, he allowed them any amount of money; but he objected -to conforming to certain fashions, which they considered indispensable -to their own position; and this difference in ideas and tastes created -much discord. They were not girls of feeling and heart. To them, a -father was nothing more than an accidental guardian, whose duty it was -to supply them with money.</p> - -<p>Late one night, when I had fallen into a profound sleep, such an one as -I had not known for months, almost years, I was suddenly aroused by a -loud knocking at the cabin-door, and a shout of—</p> - -<p>"Ann! Ann!"</p> - -<p>I instantly recognized the sharp staccato notes of Miss Jane's voice; -and, starting quickly up, I opened the door, but half-dressed, and -inquired what was wanting?</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p><p>"Are you one of the Seven Sleepers, that it requires such knocking to -arouse you? Here I've been beating and banging the door, and yet you -still slept on."</p> - -<p>I stammered out something like an excuse; and she told me master was -very ill, and I must instantly heat a large kettle of water; that Dr. -Mandy had been sent for, and upon his arrival, prescribed a hot bath.</p> - -<p>As quickly as the fire, aided by mine and Sally's united efforts, could -heat the water, it was got ready. Jake, Nace, and Dan lifted the large -bathing-tub into Mr. Peterkin's room, filled it with the warm water, and -placed him in it. The case was as Dr. Mandy had predicted. Mr. P. had -been seized with a violent attack of apoplexy, and his life was -despaired of.</p> - -<p>All the efforts of the physician seemed to fail. When Mr. Peterkin did -revive, it was frightful to listen to him. Such revolting oaths as he -used! Such horrid blasphemy as poured from his lips, I shrink from the -foulness of recording.</p> - -<p>Raving like a madman, he called upon God to restore his son, or stand -condemned as unjust. His daughters, in sheer affright, sent for the -country preacher; but the good man could effect nothing. His pious words -were wasted upon ears duller than stone.</p> - -<p>"I don't care a d—n for your religion. None of your hypocritical -prayin' round me," Mr. Peterkin would say, when the good parson sought -to beguile his attention, and lead him to the contemplation of divine -things.</p> - -<p>Frightful it was, to me, to stand by his bed-side, and hear him call -with an oath for whiskey, which was refused.</p> - -<p>He had drunk so long, and so deeply, that now, when he was suddenly -checked, the change was terrible to witness. He grew timid, and seemed -haunted by terrible spectres. Anon he would call to some fair-haired -woman, and shout out that there was blood, clotted blood, on her -ringlets; then, rolling himself up in the bed covering, he would shriek -for the skies and mountains to hide him from the meek reproach of those -girlish eyes!</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p><p>"Something terrible is on his memory," said the doctor to Miss Jane. -"Do you know aught of this?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing," she replied with a shudder.</p> - -<p>"Don't you remember," asked Miss Tildy, "how often Johnny's eyes seemed -to recall a remorseful memory, and how father would, as now, cry for -them to shut out that look which so tormented him?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes," and they both fled from the room, and did not again go near -their father. On the third evening of his illness, when Dr. Mandy (who -had been constantly with him) sat by his bed, holding his pulse, he -turned on his side, and asked in a mild tone, quite unusual to him,</p> - -<p>"Doctor, must I die? Tell me the truth; I don't want to be deceived."</p> - -<p>After a moment's pause, the doctor replied, "Yes, Mr. Peterkin, I will -speak the truth; I don't think you can recover from this attack, and, if -I am not very much mistaken, but a few hours of mortal life now remain -to you."</p> - -<p>"Then I must speak on a matter what has troubled me a good deal. If I -was a good scholar I'd a writ it out, and left it fur you to read; but -as I warn't much edicated, I couldn't do that, so I'll jist tell you -all, and relieve my mind." Here Mr. Peterkin's face assumed a frightful -expression; his eyes rolled terribly in his head, and blazed with an -expression which no language can paint. His very hair seemed erect with -terror.</p> - -<p>"Don't excite yourself; be calm! Wait until another time, then tell me."</p> - -<p>"No, no, I must speak now, I feel it 'twill do me good. Long time ago I -had a good kind mother, and one lovely sister;" and here his voice sank -to a whisper. "My father I can't remember; he died when I was a baby. I -was a wild boy; a 'brick,' as they usin' to call me. 'Way off in old -Virginny I was born and raised. My mother was a good, easy sort of -woman, that never used any force with her children, jist sich a person -as should raise gals, not fit to manage onruly boys like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> me. I jist had -my own way; came and went when I pleased. Mother didn't often reprove -me; whenever she did, it was in a gentle sort of way that I didn't mind -at all. I'd promise far enough; but then, I'd go and do my own way. So I -growed up to the age of eighteen. I'd go off on little trips; get myself -in debt, and mother'd have to pay. She an' sis had to take in sewin' to -support 'emselves, and me too. Wal, they didn't make money fast enough -at this; so they went out an' took in washin'. Sis, poor little thing, -hired herself out by the day, to get extry money for to buy little -knic-nacs fur mother, whose health had got mighty bad. Wal, their rent -had fell due, and Lucy (my sister) and mother had bin savin' up money -fur a good while, without sayin' anything to me 'bout it; but of nights -when they thought I was asleep, I seed 'em slip the money in a drawer of -an old bureau, that stood in the room whar I slept. Wal, I owed some men -a parcel of money, gamblin' debts, and they had bin sorter quarrelin' -with me 'bout it, and railin' of me 'bout my want of spirit, and I was -allers sort of proud an' very high-tempered. So I 'gan to think mother -and Luce was a saving up money fur to buy finery fur 'emselves, an' I -'greed I'd fix 'em fur it. So one night I made my brags to the boys that -I'd pay the next night, with intrust. Some of 'em bet big that I -wouldn't do it. So then I was bound fur it. Accordin', next night I -tried to get inter the drawer; but found it fast locked. I tried agin. -At length, with a wrinch, I bust it open, an' thar before me, all in -bright specie, lay fifty dollars! A big sum it 'peared to me, and then I -was all afired with passion, for Luce had refused me when I had axed her -to lend me money. Jist as I had pocketed it, an' was 'about to drive out -of the room, Lucy opened the door, an' seein' the drawer wide open, she -guessed it all. She gave one loud scream, saying, 'Oh, all our hard -savin's is gone.' I made a sign to her to keep silent; but she went on -hallowin' and cotcht hold of me, an' by a sort of quare strength, she -got her arm round me, an' her hand in my pocket, where the money was."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p><p>"You musn't have this, indeed you musn't," said she, "for it is to pay -our rent."</p> - -<p>"One desperate effort I made, an' knocked her to the floor. Her head -struck agin the sharp part of the bureau, and the blood gushed from it; -I give one loud yell for mother, an' then fled. Give me some water," he -added, in a hollow tone.</p> - -<p>After moistening his lips, he continued:</p> - -<p>"Reachin' my companions, I paid down every cent of the money, principal -and interest, then got my bet paid, and left 'em, throwin' a few dollars -toward 'em for the gineral treat.</p> - -<p>"About midnight, soft as a cat, I crept along to our house; and I knew -from the light through the open shutter of the winder, that she was -either dead or dyin'; for it was a rule at our house to have the lights -put out afore ten.</p> - -<p>"I slipped up close to the winder, and lookin' in, saw the very wust -that I had expected—Lucy in her shroud! A long, white sheet was spread -over the body! Two long candles burnt at the head and foot of the -corpse. Three neighbor-women was watchin' with her. While I still -looked, the side door opened, and mother came in, looking white as a -ghost. She turned down the sheet from the body. I pressed my face still -closer to the winder-pane; and saw that white, dead face; the forehead, -where the wound had been given, was bandaged up. Mother knelt down, and -cried out with a tone that froze my blood—</p> - -<p>"'My child, my murdered child!' I did not tarry another minute; but with -one loud yell bounded away. This scream roused the women, who seized up -the candle and run out to the door. I looked back an' saw them with -candles in hand, examining round the house. For weeks I lived in the -woods on herbs and nuts; occasionally stoppin' at farm-houses, an' -buyin' a leetle milk and bread, still I journeyed on toward the West, my -land of promise. At last, on foot, after long travel, I reached -Kaintuck. I engaged in all sorts of head-work, but didn't succeed very -well till I began to trade in niggers; then I made money fast enough. I -was a hard master. It seemed like I was the same as that old Ishmael you -read of in the old book;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> my hand was agin every man, and every man's -agin me. After while, I got mighty rich from tradin' in niggers, and -married. These is my children. This is all of my story,—a bad one 'tis -too; but, doctor, that boy, my poor, dead Johnny, was so like Lucy that -he almost driv' me mad. At times he had a sartin look, jist like hern, -that driv' a dagger to my heart. Oh, Lord! if I die, what will become of -me? Give me some whiskey, doctor, I mus' have some, for the devil and -all his imps seem to be here."</p> - -<p>He began raving in a frightful manner, and sprang out of bed so -furiously that the doctor deemed it necessary to have him confined. -Jake, Dan, and Nace were called in to assist in tying their master. It -was with difficulty they accomplished their task; but at last it was -done. Panting and foaming at the mouth, this Goliath of human -abominations lay! He, who had so often bound negroes, was now by them -bound down! If he had been fully conscious, his indignation would have -known no limits.</p> - -<p>Miss Jane sent for me to come to her room. I found her in hysterics. -Immediately, at her command, I set about rubbing her head, and chafing -her temples and hands with cologne; but all that I could do seemed to -fall far short of affording any relief. It appeared to me that her lungs -were unusually strong, for such screams I hardly ever listened to; but -her life was stout enough to stand it. The wicked are long-lived!</p> - -<p>Miss Tildy had more self-control. She moved about the house with her -usual indifference, caring for and heeding no one, except as she -bestowed upon me an occasional reprimand, which, to this day, I cannot -think I deserved. If she mislaid an article of apparel, she instantly -accused me of having stolen it; and persisted in the charge until it was -found. She always accompanied her accusations with impressive blows. It -is treatment such as this that robs the slave of all self-respect. He is -constantly taught to look upon himself as an animal, devoid of all good -attributes, without principle, and full of vice. If he really tries to -practice virtue and integrity, he gets no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> credit for it. "<i>Honest for a -nigger</i>," is a phrase much in use in Kentucky; the satirical -significance of which is perfectly understood by the astute African. I -knew that it was hard for me to hold fast to my principles amid such -fierce trials. It was so common a charge—that of liar and thief—that -despite my practice to the contrary, I almost began to accept the terms -as deserved. In some cases, the human conscience is a flexile thing! -but, thank Heaven! mine withstood the trial!</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * *</p> - -<p>On the morning of the fifth day after Mr. Peterkin's illness, his -perturbed spirit, amid imprecations and blasphemies the most horrible, -took its leave of the mortal tenement. Whither went it, oh, angel of -mercy? A fearful charge had his guardian-angel to render up.</p> - -<p>This was the second time I had witnessed the death of a human master. I -had no tears; and, as a veracious historian, I am bound to say that I -regard it as a beneficent dispensation of Divine Providence. He, my -tyrant, had gone to his Judge to render a fearful account of the -dreadful deeds done in the body.</p> - -<p>After he was laid out and appropriately dressed, and the room darkened, -the young ladies came in to look at him. I believe they wept. At least, -I can testify to the premonitory symptoms of weeping, viz., the -fluttering of white pocket-handkerchiefs, in close proximity to the -eyes! The neighbors gathered round them with bottles of sal-volatile, -camphor, fans, &c., &c. There was no dearth of consolatory words, for -they were rich. Though Mr. Peterkin's possessions were vast, he could -carry no tithe of them to that land whither he had gone; and at that bar -before which he must stand, there would flash on him the stern eye of -Justice. His trial there would be equitable and rigid. His money could -avail him nought; for <i>there</i> were allowed no "packed juries," bribed -and suborned witnesses, no wily attorneys to turn Truth astray; no -subtleties and quibbles of litigation; all is clear, straight, open, -even-handed justice, and his own deeds, like a mighty cloud of -evidence,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> would rise up against him—and so we consign him to his fate -and to his mother earth.</p> - -<p>But he was befittingly buried, even with the rites of Christianity! -There was a man in a white neck-cloth, with a sombre face, who read a -psalm, offered up a well-worded prayer, gave out a text, and therefrom -preached an appropriate, elegiac sermon. Not one, to be sure, in which -the peculiar virtues of brother Peterkin were set forth, but a sort of -pious oration, wherein religion, practical and revealed, was duly -encouraged, and great sympathy offered to the <i>lovely</i> and bereaved -daughters, &c., &c.</p> - -<p>The body was placed in a very fine coffin, and interred in the family -burying-ground, near his wife and son! At the grave, Miss Jane, who well -understood scenic effect, contrived to get up an attack of syncope, and -fell prostrate beside the new-made grave. Of course "the friends" -gathered round her with restoratives, and, shouting for "air," they made -an opening in the crowd, through which she was borne to a carriage and -driven home.</p> - -<p>I had lingered, tenderly, beside young master's tomb, little heeding -what was passing around, when this theatrical excitement roused me. Oh! -does not one who has real trouble, heart-agony, sicken when he hears of -these affectations of grief?</p> - -<p>Slowly, but I suspect with right-willing hearts, the crowd turned away -from the grave, each betaking himself to his own home and pursuit.</p> - -<p>A few weeks after, a stately monument, commemorative of his good deeds, -was erected to the memory of James Peterkin.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h2> - -<p class="center">THE BRIDAL—ITS CEREMONIES—A TRIP, AND A CHANGE OF HOMES—THE -MAGNOLIA—A STRANGER.</p> - -<p>Weeks rolled monotonously by after the death of Mr. Peterkin. There was -nothing to break the cloud of gloom that enveloped everything.</p> - -<p>The ladies were, as ever, cruel and abusive. Existence became more -painful to me than it had been before. It seemed as if every hope was -dead in my breast. An iron chain bound every aspiration, and I settled -down into the lethargy of despair. Even Nature, all radiant as she is, -had lost her former charms. I looked not beyond the narrow horizon of -the present. The future held out to me no allurements, whilst the dark -and gloomy past was an arid plain, without fountain, or flower, or -sunshine, over which I dared not send my broken spirit.</p> - -<p>In this state of dreary monotony, I passed my life for months, until an -event occurred which changed my whole after-fate.</p> - -<p>Mr. Summerville, who, it seems, had kept up a regular correspondence -with Miss Jane, made us a visit, and, after much secret talking in dark -parlors, long rambles through the woods, twilight and moonlight -whisperings on the gallery, Miss Jane announced that there would, on the -following evening, be performed a marriage ceremony of importance to -all, but of very particular interest to Mr. Summerville and herself.</p> - -<p>Accordingly, on the evening mentioned, the marriage rite was solemnized -in the presence of a few social friends, among whom Dr. Mandy and wife -shone conspicuously. I duly plied the guests with wine, cakes and -confections.</p> - -<p>Miss Tildy, by the advice of her bride-sister, enacted the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> pathetic -very perfectly. She wept, sighed, and, I do believe, fainted or tried to -faint. This was at the special suggestion of her sister, who duly -commended and appreciated her.</p> - -<p>Mr. Summerville, for the several days that he remained with us, looked, -and was, I suppose, the very personification of delight.</p> - -<p>In about a week or ten days after the solemnization of the matrimonial -rite, Mr. Summerville made his "better half" (or worse, I know not -which), understand that very important business urged his immediate -return to the city. Of course, whilst the novelty of the situation -lasted, she was as obedient and complaisant as the most exacting husband -could demand, and instantly consented to her lord's request. She bade me -get ready to accompany her; and, as she had heard that people from the -country were judged according to the wardrobe of their servants, she -prepared for me quite a decent outfit.</p> - -<p>One bright morning, I shall ever remember it, we started off with -innumerable trunks, band-boxes, &c.—for the city of L——. Without one -feeling of regret, I turned my face from the Peterkin farm. I never saw -it after, save in dark and fearful dreams, from which I always awoke -with a shudder. I felt half-emancipated, when my back was turned against -it, and in the distance loomed up the city and freedom. I had a queer -fancy, that if the Peterkin influence were once thrown off, the rest -would speedily succeed!</p> - -<p>If I had only been allowed, I could have shouted out like a school-boy -freed from a difficult lesson; but Miss Jane's checking glance was upon -me, and 'twas like winter's frozen breath over a gladsome lake.</p> - -<p>I well remember the beautiful ride upon the boat, and how long and -lingeringly I gazed over the guard, looking down at the blue, -dolphin-like waves. All the day, whilst others lounged and talked, I was -looking at those same curling, frothy billows, making, in my own mind, -fifty fantastic comparisons, which then appeared to me very brilliant, -but, since I have learned to think differently. Truly, the foam has died -on the wave.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span></p><p>When night came on, wrapped in her sombre purple, yet glittering with a -cuirass of stars and a helmet of planets, the waters sparkled and danced -with a fairy-like beauty, and I thought I had never beheld anything half -so ecstatic! There was none on that crowded steamer who dreamed of the -glory that was nestling, like a thing of love, deep and close down in -the poor slave's breast!</p> - -<p>To those who surrounded me, this was but an ordinary sight; to me it was -one of strange, unimagined loveliness. I was careful however, to -disguise my emotions. I would have given worlds (had I been their -possessor) to speak my joy in one wild word, or to shout it forth in a -single cry.</p> - -<p>This pleasure, like all others, found its speedy end. The next morning, -about ten o'clock, we landed in L—, a city of some commercial -consequence in the West. Indeed, by old residents of the interior of -Kentucky, it is regarded as "<i>the city</i>." I have often since thought of -my first landing there; of its dusty, dirty coal-besmoked appearance; of -its hedge of drays, its knots of garrulous and noisy drivers, and then -the line of dusky warehouses, storage rooms, &c. All this instantly -rises to my mind when I hear that growing city spoken of.</p> - -<p>Mr. Summerville engaged one of the neatest-looking coaches at the wharf; -and into it Miss Jane, baggage and servant were unceremoniously hurried. -I had not the privilege and scarcely the wish to look out of the -coach-window, yet, from my crowded and uncomfortable position, I could -catch a sight of an occasional ambitious barber's pole, or myriad-tinted -chemists' bottles; all these, be it remembered, were novelties to me, -who had never been ten miles from Mr. Peterkin's farm. At length the -driver drew a halt at the G—— House, as Mr. Summerville had directed, -and, at this palatial-looking building Mr. Summerville had taken -quarters. How well I recollect its wide hall, its gothic entrance and -hospitable-looking vestibule! The cane-colored floor cloth, -corresponding with the oaken walls struck me as the harmonious design of -an artistic mind.</p> - -<p>For a few moments only was Miss Jane left in the neat <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span>reception-room, -when a nice-looking mulatto man entered, and, in a low, gentlemanly -tone, informed her that her room was ready. Taking the basket and -portmanteau from me, he politely requested that we would follow him to -room No. 225. Through winding corridors and interminable galleries, he -conducted us, until, at last, we reached it. Drawing a key from his -pocket, he applied it to the lock, and bade Miss Jane enter. She was -much pleased with the arrangement of the furniture, the adjustment of -the drapery, &c.</p> - -<p>The floor was covered with a beautiful green velvet carpet, torn bouquet -pattern, whilst the design of the rug was one that well harmonized with -the disposition of the present tenant. It was a wild tiger reposing in -his native jungle.</p> - -<p>After Miss Jane had made an elaborate toilette, she told me, as a great -favor, she would allow me to go down stairs, or walk through the halls -for recreation, as she had no further use for me.</p> - -<p>I wandered about, passing many rooms, all numbered in gilt figures. The -most of them had their doors open, and I amused myself watching the -different expressions of face and manners of their occupants. This had -always been a habit of mine, for the indulgence of which, however, I had -had but little opportunity.</p> - -<p>I strayed on till I reached the parlors, and they burst upon me with the -necromantic power of Aladdin's hall. A continuity of four apartments -rolled away into a seeming mist, and the adroit position of a mirror -multiplied their number and added greatly to the gorgeous effect. There -were purple and golden curtains, with their many tinsel ornaments; -carpets of the gayest style, from the richest looms. "Etruscan vases, -quaint and old" adorned the mantel-shelf, and easy divans and lounges of -mosaic-velvet were ranged tastefully around. An arcade, with its stately -pillars, divided two of the rooms, and the inter-columniations were -ornamented with statues and statuettes; and upon a marble table, in the -centre of one of the apartments, was a blooming magnolia, the first one -I had ever seen! That strange and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> mysterious odor, that, like a fine, -inner, sub-sense, pervades the nerve with a quickening power, stole over -me! I stood before the flower in a sort of delicious, delirious joy. -There, with its huge fan-like leaves of green, this pure white blossom, -queen of all the tribe of flowers, shed its glorious perfume and -unfolded its mysterious beauty. It seemed that a new life was opening -upon me. Surely, I said, this <i>is</i> fairy land. For more than an hour I -lingered beside that splendid magnolia, vainly essaying to drink in its -glory and its mystery.</p> - -<p>Miss Jane and Mr. Summerville had gone out to take a drive over the -city, and I was comparatively free, in their absence, to go -whithersoever I pleased.</p> - -<p>Whilst I still loitered near the flower, a very sweet but manly voice -asked:</p> - -<p>"Do you love flowers?"</p> - -<p>I turned hastily, and to my surprise, beheld a fine-looking gentleman -standing in close contiguity to me. With pleasure I think now of his -broad, open face, written all over with love and kindness; his deep, -fervid blue eye, that wore such a gentle expression; and the scant, yet -fair hair that rolled away from his magnificent forehead! He appeared to -be slightly upwards of fifty; but I am sure from his face, that those -fifty years had been most nobly spent.</p> - -<p>I trembled as I replied:</p> - -<p>"Yes, I am very fond of flowers."</p> - -<p>He noticed my embarrassment, and smiled most benignantly.</p> - -<p>"Did you ever see a magnolia before?"</p> - -<p>"Is this a magnolia?" I inquired, pointing to the luxurious flower.</p> - -<p>"Yes, and one of the finest I ever saw. It belongs to the South. Are you -sure you never saw one before?" He fixed his eyes inquiringly upon me as -I answered:</p> - -<p>"Oh, quite sure, sir; I never was ten miles from my master's farm in my -life."</p> - -<p>"You are a slave?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir, I am."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span></p><p>He waited a moment, then said:</p> - -<p>"Are you happy?"</p> - -<p>I dared not tell a falsehood, yet to have truly stated my feelings, -would have been dangerous; so I evasively replied:</p> - -<p>"Yes, as much so as most slaves."</p> - -<p>I thought I heard him sigh, as he slowly moved away.</p> - -<p>My eyes followed him with inquiring wonder. Who could he be? Certain I -was that no malice had prompted the question he had asked me. The -circumstance created anxiety in my mind. All that day as I walked about, -or waited on Miss Jane, that stranger's face shone like a new-risen -moon upon my darkened heart. Had I found, accidentally, one of those -Northern Abolitionists, about whom I had heard so much? Often after when -sent upon errands for my mistress, I met him in the halls, and he always -gave me a kind smile and a friendly salutation. Once Miss Jane observed -this, and instantly accused me of having a dishonorable acquaintance -with him. My honor was a thing that I had always guarded with the utmost -vigilance, and to such a serious charge I perhaps made some hasty reply, -whereupon Miss Jane seized a riding-whip, and cut me most severely -across the face, leaving an ugly mark, a trace of which I still bear, -and suppose I shall carry to my grave. Mr. Summerville expostulated with -his wife, saying that it was better to use gentle means at first.</p> - -<p>"No, husband," (she always thus addressed him,) "I know more about the -management of <i>niggers</i> than you do."</p> - -<p>This gross pronunciation of the word negro has a popular use even among -the upper and educated classes of Kentucky. I am at a loss to account -for it, in any other way than by supposing that they use it to express -their deepest contempt.</p> - -<p>Mr. Summerville was rather disposed to be humane to his servants. He was -no advocate of the rod; he used to term it the relic of barbarism. He -preferred selling a refractory servant to whipping him. This did not -accord particularly well with Miss Jane's views, and the consequence was -they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> had many a little private argument that did not promise to end -well.</p> - -<p>Miss Jane made many acquaintances among the boarders in the hotel, with -whom she was much pleased. She had frequent invitations to attend the -theatre, concerts, and even parties. Many of the fashionables of the -city called upon her, offering, in true Kentucky style, the -hospitalities of their mansions. With this she was quite delighted, and -her new life became one of intense interest and gratification, as her -letters to her sister proved.</p> - -<p>She would often regret Tildy was not there to share in her delight; but -it had been considered best for her to remain at the old homestead until -some arrangement could be made about the division of the estate. Two of -the neighbors, a gentleman and his wife, took up their abode with her; -but she expected to visit the city so soon as Miss Jane went to -house-keeping, which would be in a few months. Miss Jane was frequently -out spending social days and evenings with her friends, thus giving me -the opportunity of going about more than I had ever done through the -house. In this way I formed a pleasant acquaintance with several of the -chambermaids, colored girls and free. Friendships thus grew up which -have lasted ever since, and will continue, I trust, until death closes -over us. One of the girls, Louise, a half-breed, was an especial -favorite. She had read some, and was tolerably well educated. From her I -often borrowed interesting books, compends of history, bible-stories, -poems, &c. I also became a furious reader of newspapers, thus picking -up, occasionally, much useful information. Louise introduced me, -formally, to the head steward, an intelligent mulatto man, named Henry, -of most prepossessing appearance; but the shadow of a great grief lurked -in the full look of his large dark eye! "I am a slave, God help me!" -seemed stamped upon his face; 'twas but seldom that I saw him smile, and -then it was so like the reflection of a tear, that it pained me full as -much as his sigh. He had access to the gentlemen's reading-room; and -through him I often had the opportunity of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> reading the leading -Anti-slavery journals. With what avidity I devoured them! How full they -were of the noblest philanthropy! Great exponents of real liberty! at -the words of your argument my heart leaped like a new-fledged bird! -Still pour forth your burning eloquence; it will yet blaze like a -watchfire on the Mount of Liberty! The gladness, the hope, the faith it -imparted to my long-bowed heart, would, I am sure, give joy to those -noble leaders of the great cause.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXIX.</h2> - -<p class="center">THE ARGUMENT.</p> - -<p>One day, when Miss Jane and Mr. Summerville had gone out at an early -hour to spend the entire day, I little knew what to do with myself as I -had no books nor papers to read, and Louise had business that took her -out of the house.</p> - -<p>The day was unusually soft and pleasant. I wandered through the halls, -and, drawing near a private gallery that ran along in front of the -gentlemen's room, I paused to look at a large picture of an English -fox-chase, that adorned the wall. Whilst examining its rare and peculiar -beauties, my ear was pleasantly struck by the sound of a much-esteemed -voice, saying—</p> - -<p>"Well, very well! Let us take seats here, in this retired place, and -begin the conversation we have been threatening so long."</p> - -<p>I glanced out at the crevice of the partially open door, and distinctly -recognized the gentleman who had spoken to me of the magnolia, and who -(I had learned) was James Trueman, of Boston, a man of high standing and -social position, and a successful practitioner of law in his native -State.</p> - -<p>The other was a gentleman from Virginia, one of the very first families -(there are no second, I believe), by the name of Winston, a man reputed -of very vast possessions, a land-holder, and an extensive owner of -slaves. I had frequently observed him in company with Mr. Trueman, and -had inquired of Henry who and what he was.</p> - -<p>I felt a little reluctant to remain in my position and hear this -conversation, not designed for me; yet a singular impulse urged<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> me to -remain. I felt (and I scarce know why) that it had a bearing upon the -great moral and social question that so agitated the country. Whilst I -was debating with myself about the propriety of a retreat, I caught a -few words, which determined me to stay and hear what I believed would -prove an interesting discussion.</p> - -<p>"Let us, my dear Mr. Winston," began Mr. Trueman, "indulge for a few -moments in a conversation upon this momentous subject. Both of us have -passed that time of life when the ardor and impetuosity of youthful -blood might unfit us for such a discussion, and we may say what we -please on this vexed question with the distinct understanding, that -however offensive our language may become, it will be regarded as -<i>general</i>, neither meant nor understood to have any application to -ourselves."</p> - -<p>"I am quite willing and ready to converse as you propose," replied the -other, in a quick, unpleasant tone, "and I gladly accept the terms -suggested, in which you only anticipate my design. It is well to agree -upon such restraint; for though, as you remind me, our advancing years -have taken much of the fervor from our blood, and left us calm, sober, -thoughtful men, the agitating nature of the subject and the deep -interest which both of us feel in it, should put us on our guard. If, -then, during the progress of the conversation, either of us shall be -unduly excited, let the recollection of the conditions upon which we -engage in it, recall him to his accustomed good-humor."</p> - -<p>"Well, we have settled the preliminaries without difficulty, and to -mutual satisfaction. And now, the way being clear, our discussion may -proceed. I assume, then, in the outset, that the institution of slavery, -as it exists in the South, is a monstrous evil. I assume this -proposition; not alone because it is the universal sentiment of the -'rest of mankind;' but also, because it is now very generally conceded -by slave-holders themselves."</p> - -<p>"Pray, where did you learn that slave-holders ever made such a -concession? As to what may be the sentiment of the 'rest of mankind,' I -may speak by-and-bye. For the present, my concern is with the opinion of -that large slave-holding class to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> which I belong. I am extensively -acquainted among them, and if that is their opinion of our peculiar -institution, I am entirely ignorant of it."</p> - -<p>"Your ignorance," said Mr. Trueman, with a smile, "in that regard, while -it by no means disproves my proposition, may be easily explained. With -your neighbors, who feel like yourself the dread responsibility of this -crying abomination, it is not pleasant, perhaps, to talk upon it, and -you avoid doing so without the slightest trouble; because you have other -and more engaging topics, such as the condition of your farms, the -prospect of fine crops, and all the 'changes of the varying year.' But, -read the declarations of your chosen Representatives, the favorite sons -of the South, in the high councils of our nation; and you will discover, -that in all the debates involving it, slavery, in itself, and in its -consequences, is frankly admitted to be a tremendous evil."</p> - -<p>"Our Representatives may have sometimes thought proper to make such an -admission to appease the fanaticism of Northern Abolitionists, and to -quiet the agitations of the country in the spirit of generous -compromise: but <i>I</i> am not bound to make it, and <i>I will not make it</i>. -Neither do I avoid conversations with my neighbors upon the subject of -slavery from the motive you intimate, nor from any other motive. I have -frequently talked with them upon it, boldly and candidly, as I am -prepared to talk to you or any reasonable man. Your proposition I -positively deny, and can quickly refute." I thought there was a little -anger in the tone in which he said this; but no excitement was -discernible in the clear, calm voice with which Mr. Trueman answered—</p> - -<p>"Independently of the admission of your Representatives, which, I think, -ought to bind you (for you must have been aware of it, and since it was -public and undisputed, your acquiescence might be fairly presumed), -there are many considerations that establish the truth of my position. -But I cannot indorse your harsh reflection upon the Representatives of -your choice. I cannot believe them capable of admitting, for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> any -purpose, a proposition which, in their opinion and that of their -constituents, asserts a falsehood. The immortal Henry Clay and such men -as he are responsible for the admission, and not one of them was ever so -timid as to be under the dominion of fear, or so dishonest as to be -hypocritical."</p> - -<p>A moment's pause ensued, when Mr. Winston appeared to rally, and said,</p> - -<p>"I do not understand, then, if that was their real opinion, how it was -possible for them to continue to hold slaves. To say the least of it, -their practice was not in accordance with their theory. Hence I said, -that under certain circumstances and to serve a special purpose, they -may have conceded slavery to be an evil. For my own part, if I were -persuaded that this proposition is true, it would constrain me to -liberate all my slaves, whatever may be my attachment to them or the -loss I should necessarily suffer. Some of them have been acquired by -purchase; others by inheritance: all of them seem satisfied with their -treatment upon my estate; yet nothing could induce me to claim the -property I have hitherto thought I possessed in them, when convinced of -the evil which your proposition asserts."</p> - -<p>"Nothing could be fairer, my dear Mr. Winston. Your conviction will -doubtless subject you to immense sacrifices: but these will only enhance -your real worth as a man, and I am sure you will make them without -hesitation, though it may be, not without reluctance. Now, it is a -principle of law, well settled, that no person can in any manner convey -a title, even to those things which are property, greater than that -which he rightfully possesses. If, for instance, I acquire, by theft or -otherwise, unlawful possession of your watch or other articles of value, -which is transferred, by the operation of purchase and sale, through -many hands, your right never ceases; and the process of law will enable -you to obtain possession. Each individual who purchased the article, may -have his remedy against him from whom he procured it, however extended -the series of purchasers: but, since whatever right any one of them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> has -was derived originally from me, and since my unlawful acquisition -conferred no right at all, it follows that none was transmitted. -Consequently, you were not divested, and the just spirit of law, -continuing to recognize your property in the article whenever found, -provides the ready means whereby you may reduce it once more to -possession. This principle of law is not peculiar to a single locality; -it enters into the remedial code of all civilized countries. Its -benefits are accessible to the free negro in this land of the dark -Southern border; and, I trust, it will not be long before those who are -now held in slavery may be embraced in its beneficent operation. Whether -it is recognized internationally, I am not fully prepared to say; but it -ought to be, if it is not, for it is the dictate of equity and common -sense. But, upon the hypothesis that it is so recognized, if the -property of an inhabitant of Africa were stolen from him by a citizen of -the United States, he might recover it. As for those people who, in the -Southern States, are held as slaves, they or their ancestors came here -originally not by their own choice, but by compulsion, from distant -Africa. You will hardly deny, I presume, what is, historically, so -evident—that "they were captured," as the phrase is, or, in our honest -vernacular, <i>stolen</i> and brought by violence from their native homes. -Had they been the proper subjects of property, what could prevent the -application of the principle I have quoted?"</p> - -<p>After two or three hems and haws, Mr. Winston began:</p> - -<p>"I have never inquired particularly into the matter; but have always -entertained the impression which pervades the Southern mind, that our -negroes are legitimately our slaves, in pursuance of the malediction -denounced by God against Ham and his descendants, of whom they are a -part. And, so thinking, I believed we were entitled to the same right to -them which we exercise over the beasts of the field, the fowls of the -air, and the fishes of the deep. Moreover, your principle of law, which -is indeed very correct, is inapplicable to their case. There is also a -principle in the law of my State, incapacitating slaves to hold -property. They are property themselves; and property<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> cannot hold -property. Apart from the terrible curse, which doomed them in the -beginning, they were slaves in their own country to men of their own -race; slaves by right of conquest. Therefore, taking the instance you -have suggested, by way of illustration, were any article of value -wrested from their possession, under this additional principle, the law -could not give them any redress. But, inasmuch as whatever they may -acquire becomes immediately the property of their master, to him the law -will furnish a remedy."</p> - -<p>"You do not deny," and here Mr. Trueman's tone was elevated and a little -excited, "that the first of those who reached this country were stolen -in Africa. Now, for the sake of the argument merely, I will admit that -they were slaves at home. If they were slaves at home—it matters not -whether by 'right or conquest,' or 'in pursuance of <i>the curse</i>,' they -must have been the property of somebody, and those who stole them and -sold them into bondage in America could give no valid title to their -purchasers; for by the theft they had acquired none themselves. Hence, -if ever they were slaves, they are still the property of their masters -in Africa; but, if your interpretation of "the curse" is correct, those -masters were also slaves, and, being such, under the principle of law -which you have quoted, they could not for this reason hold property. -Therefore, those oppressed and outraged, though benighted people, who -were first sold into slavery, to the eternal disgrace of our land, were, -in sheer justice, either <i>free</i>, or the property—even after the -sale—of their African masters, if they had any; in neither case could -they belong to those of our citizens who were unfortunate enough to buy -them. They were not slaves of African masters: for, according to your -argument, all of the race are slaves, and slaves cannot own slaves any -more than horses can own horses; therefore, since no other people -claimed dominion over them, they were, necessarily, free. You cannot -escape from this dilemma, and the choice of either horn is fatal to your -cause. Being free, might they not have held property like other -<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span>nations? And, had any of it been stolen from them by those who are -amenable to our laws, would not consistency compel us, who recognize the -just principle I have quoted, to restore it to them? This is the course -pursued among ourselves; and it ceases not with restoration; but on the -offender it proceeds to inflict punishment, to prevent a repetition of -the offence. This is the course we should pursue toward that -down-trodden race whose greatest guilt is 'a skin not colored like our -own.'</p> - -<p>"As the case stands, it is not a question of property, but of that more -valuable and sacred right, the right of <i>personal liberty</i>, of which we -now boast so loudly. What, in the estimation of the world, is the worth -of those multitudinous orations, apostrophies to liberty, which, on each -recurring Fourth of July, in whatever quarter of the globe Americans may -be assembled, penetrate the public ear? What are they worth to us, if, -while reminding us of early colonial and revolutionary struggles against -the galling tyranny of the British crown, they fail to inculcate the -easy lesson of respect for the rights of all mankind? In keeping those -poor Africans in the South still enslaved, you practically ignore this -lesson, and you trample with unholy feet that divine ordinance which -commands you 'to do unto others as you would have others do unto you.' -By the oppression to which we were subjected under the yoke of Britain, -and against which we wrestled so long, so patiently, so vigorously, in -so many ways, and at last so triumphantly, I adjure you to put an end, -at once and forever, to this business of holding slaves. This is -oppression indeed, in comparison with which, that which drew forth our -angry and bitter complaints, was very freedom. Let us, instead of -perpetuating this infamous institution, be true to ourselves; let us -vindicate the pretensions we set up when we characterize ours as 'the -land of liberty, the asylum of the oppressed,' by proclaiming to the -nations of the earth that, so soon as a slave touches the soil of -America, his manacles shall fall from him: let us verify the words -engraven in enduring brass on the old bell which from the tower of -Independence Hall rang out our glorious Declaration, and in deed and in -truth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> proclaim 'Liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison -doors to them that are bound.' As you value truth, honor, justice, -consistency, aye, humanity even, wipe out the black blot which defiles -the border of our escutcheon, and the country will then be in reality -what is now only in name, a <i>free</i> country, loving liberty -disinterestedly for its own sake, and for that of all people, and -nations, and tribes, and tongues.</p> - -<p>"You may still, if you choose, dispute and philosophize about the -inequality of races, and continue to insist on the boasted superiority -of <i>our</i> Caucasian blood; but the greatest disadvantages which a -comparison can indicate will not prove that one's claim to liberty is -higher than another's. It may be that we of the white race, are vastly -superior to our African brethren. The differences, however, are not -flattering to us; for we should remember with shame and confusion of -face, that our injustice and cruelty have produced them. Having first -enslaved the poor Africans and subsequently withheld from them every -means of improvement, it is not strange that such differences should -exist as those on which we plume ourselves. But is it not intolerable -that we should now quote them with such brazen self-gratulation?</p> - -<p>"Despite the manifold disadvantages that encumber and clog the movements -of the Africans, unfortunately for the validity of your argument their -race exhibits many proud specimens to prove their capability of culture, -and of the enjoyment of freedom. Give them but the same opportunities -that we have, and they will rival us in learning, refinement, -statesmanship, and general demeanor, as is incontestibly shown in the -lives and characters of many now living. Such men as Fred Douglas and -President Roberts, would honor any complexion; or, I ought rather to -say, should make us forget and despise the distinctions of color, since -they reach not below the surface of the skin, nor affect, in the least, -that better part that gives to man all his dignity and worth. Nor need I -point to these illustrious examples to rebut the inferences you deduce -from color. Every village and hamlet in your own sunny South, can -furnish an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> abundant refutation, in its obscure but eloquent 'colored -preachers'—noble patterns of industry and wisdom, who show forth, by -their exemplary bearing, all the beauty of holiness,—'allure to -brighter worlds and lead the way.'"</p> - -<p>It is impossible to furnish even the faintest description of the -pleading earnestness of the speaker's tone. His full, round, rich voice, -grew intense, low and silvery in its harmonious utterance. As he -pronounced the last sentence, it was with difficulty I could repress a -cry of applause. Oh, surely, surely, I thought, our cause, the African's -cause, is not helpless, is not lost, whilst it still possesses such an -advocate. My eyes overflowed with grateful tears, and I longed to kiss -the hem of his garment.</p> - -<p>"You forget," answered Mr. Winston, "or you would do well to consider, -that these cases are exceptional cases, which neither preclude my -inferences nor warrant your assumption."</p> - -<p>"Exceptions, indeed, they are; but why?" inquired Mr. Trueman. -"Exceptions, you know, prove the rule. Now, you infer from the sooty -complexion of the Africans, a natural and necessary incapacity for the -blessings of self-government and the refinements of education. I have -mentioned individuals of this fatal complexion who are in the wise -enjoyment of these sublime privileges: one of them has acquired an -enviable celebrity as an orator, the other is the accomplished President -of the infant Liberian Republic. If color incapacitated, as you seem to -think, it would affect all alike; but it has not incapacitated these, -therefore it does not incapacitate at all. These are exceptions not to -the general <i>capacity</i> of the blacks, but only to their general -opportunity. What they have done others may do—the opportunities being -equal."</p> - -<p>"I have listened to you entire argument," rejoined Mr. Winston, "very -patiently, with the expectation of hearing the proposition sustained -with which you so vauntingly set out. You will, perhaps, accord to me -the credit of being—what in this age of ceaseless talk is rarely -met—'a good listener.' But, after all my patience and attention, I am -still unsatisfied—if not <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span>unshaken. You have failed to meet the -argument drawn from the 'curse' pronounced on the progenitors of the -unfortunate race: you have failed to present or notice what is generally -considered by theologians and moralists the right of a purchaser—in -your illustration from stolen goods—to something for the money with -which he parts; and here, I think, you manifested great unfairness; and, -above all, you have failed to propose any feasible remedy for the state -of things against which you inveigh. What have you to say on these -material points?"</p> - -<p>"Very much, my good sir, as you will find, if, instead of taking -advantage of every momentary pause to make out such a 'failure' as you -desire, you only prolong your very complimentary patience. I wish you to -watch the argument narrowly; to expose the faintest flaw you can detect -in it; and, at the end, if unsatisfied, cry out 'failure,' or let it -wring from you a reluctant confession. You will, at least, before I -shall have done, withdraw the illiberal imputation of unfairness. It -would be an easy task for me to anticipate all you can say, and to -refute it; but such a course would leave you nothing to say, and, since -I intend this discussion to be strictly a conversation, I shall leave -you at liberty to present your own arguments in your own way. Now, as to -the argument from 'the curse,' you must permit me to observe, that your -interpretation is too free and latitudinarian. Mine is more literal, -more in accordance with the character of God; it fully satisfies the -Divine vengeance, and, whether correct or not, has, at least, as much -authority in its favor. Granting the dominion of the white over the -black race to be in virtue of 'the curse,' it by no means conveys such -power as your Southern institution seeks to justify. The word <i>slave</i> -nowhere occurs in that memorable malediction; but there is an obvious -distinction between <i>its</i> import and that of the word <i>servant</i>, which -it <i>does</i> employ. Surely, for the offence of looking upon the nakedness -of his father, Ham could not have incurred and entailed upon his -posterity a heavier punishment than they would necessarily suffer as -the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> simple servants of their brethren. And this consideration should -induce you to give them, at least, the same share of freedom as is -enjoyed by the <i>white servants</i> to be found in many a household in the -South. Such servitude would be the utmost that a merciful God could -require. Even this, however, was under the old dispensation; and the -reign of its laws, customs, and punishments, should melt under the -genial rays of the sun of Christianity. Many of your own patriots, -headed by Washington and Jefferson, have long since thought so; and but -few in these days plead 'the curse' as excuse or justification for that -'damned spot' which all will come ultimately to consider the disgrace of -this enlightened age and nation. As to your next point, the right which -a purchaser of stolen goods may acquire in them in consideration of the -money which he pays, I grant all the benefit that even the most generous -theologian or moralist can allow in the best circumstances of such a -case. And what does this amount to? A return of the purchase-money, with -a reasonable or very high rate of interest for the detention, would be -as much as any one could demand. Applying this to the case of the stolen -Africans, how many of those who were forced from their native land to -this have died on their master's hands without yielding by their labor, -not alone the principal, but a handsome percentage upon the money -invested in their purchase? Thus purchasers were indemnified—abundantly -indemnified, against loss. The indemnity, however, should have been -sought from the seller, not from the article or person sold. But, at -best, purchasers of stolen goods, to entitle themselves to any -indemnity, should at least be innocent; for if they buy such goods, -<i>knowing them to be stolen</i>, they are guilty of a serious misdemeanor, -which is everywhere punishable under the law. 'He who asks equity must -do equity.' When, therefore, you of the South would realize the benefit -of the concession of theologians and moralists—the benefit of -justice—you should bring yourselves within the conditions they require; -you should come into court with clean hands, and with the intention of -acting in good faith. Have you done so?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> Did your fathers do so before -you? Not at all. They were not ignorant purchasers of the poor, ravished -African; they knew full well that he had been stolen and brought by -violence from his distant home: consequently, they were guilty of a -misdemeanor in purchasing; consequently, too, they come not within the -case proposed by the theologians and moralists, which might entitle them -to indemnity; nor were they in a condition to ask it. The present -generation, claiming through them, find themselves in the same -predicament, with the same title only, and the same unclean hands, -perpetuating their foul oppression. None of them, as I have shown, had a -right to claim indemnity by reason of having invested their money in -that way; and, if they ever had such right, they have been richly -indemnified already. Therefore, it is absurd for you to continue the -slave business upon this plea. Having thus answered your only objections -to my position, I might remind you of your determination, and call upon -you to 'liberate your slaves,' and take sides with me in opposition to -the cruel institution. You are greatly mistaken in supposing that my -omission to propose a plan, by which slave-holders could <i>conveniently, -and without pecuniary loss</i>, emancipate their slaves, constitutes the -slightest objection to the argument I have advanced. If you defer their -emancipation until such a plan is proposed; if you are unwilling to -incur even a little sacrifice, what nobility will there be in the act, -to entitle you to the consideration of the just and good, or to the -approval of your own consciences? I sought by this discussion, to -convince you that slavery is an enormous evil; the proposition was -declared in all its boldness. You volunteered a pledge to release your -slaves if I could sustain it, let the sacrifice be what it might. Some -sacrifice, then, you must have anticipated; and, should your conviction -now demand it, you have no cause to complain of me. Your pledge was -altogether voluntary; I did not even ask it; nor did I design to suggest -any such plan of universal emancipation as would suit the <i>convenience</i> -of everybody. I am not so extravagantly silly as to hope to do that. -But, after all, why wait for a <i>plan</i>?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> Immediate, universal -emancipation is not impracticable, and numberless methods might and -would at once be devised, if the people of your States were sincere when -they profess to desire its accomplishment. Their <i>real</i> wish, however, -whatever it may be, need not interfere between your individual pledge, -and its prompt fulfilment."</p> - -<p>Mr. Trueman paused for full five minutes, and, as I peered out from my -hiding-place, I thought there was a very quizzical sort of expression on -his fine face.</p> - -<p>"Well, what have you to say?" he at length asked.</p> - -<p>"It seems to me," Mr. Winston began, in an angry tone, "you speak very -flippantly and very wildly about general emancipation. Consider, sir, -that slavery is so woven into our society, that there is scarcely a -family that would not be more or less affected by a change. Fundamental -alterations in society, to be safely made, must be the slow work of -years:</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>'Not the hasty product of a day,</div> -<div>But the well-ripened fruit of wise delay.'</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>So it is only by almost imperceptible degrees that the emancipationists -and impertinent Abolitionists can ever attain 'the consummation' they -pretend to have so much at heart. If they would just stay at home and -devote their spare time to cleansing their own garments, leaving us of -the South to suffer alone what they are pleased to esteem the evil and -sin and curse, the shame, burden and abomination of slavery, we should -the sooner discover its blasting enormities, and strive more zealously -to abolish them and the institution from which they proceed. Their -super-serviceable interference, hitherto, has only riveted and tightened -the bondage of those with whom they sympathize; and such a result will -always attend it. Our slaves, as at present situated, are very well -satisfied, as, indeed, they ought to be: for they are exempt from the -anxious cares of the free, as to what they shall eat or what they shall -drink, or wherewithal they shall be clothed. Many poor men of our own -color would gladly exchange conditions with them, because they find life -to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> be a hard, an incessant struggle for the scantiest comforts, with -which our slaves are supplied at no cost of personal solicitude. -Besides, sir, our institution of slavery is vastly more burdensome to -ourselves than to the negroes for whom you affect so much fraternal -love."</p> - -<p>"One would suppose, that if you thought it burdensome, you would be -making some effort to relieve yourselves," interposed Mr. Trueman, in -that clear and pointed manner that was his peculiarity; "and, if -immediate emancipation were deemed impracticable in consequence of the -radical hold which this institution has at the South, you might -naturally be expected to be doing something toward that end by the -encouragement of education among those in bondage, by the sanction of -marriage ties between them, and by other efforts to ameliorate their -condition. Certain inducements might be presented for the manumission of -slaves by individual owners, for there are some of this class, I am -happy to think, who, in tender humanity, would release their slaves, if -the stringency of the laws did not deter them from it. Would it not be -well to abate somewhat of this rigor, and allow all slaves, voluntarily -manumitted, to remain in the several States with at least the privileges -of the free negroes now resident therein, so that the olden ties, which -have grown up between themselves and their owners, might not be abruptly -snapped asunder? Besides, to enforce the propriety of this alteration of -the law, it would be well to reflect that the South is the native home -of most of the slaves, who cherish their local attachments quite as much -as ourselves; and hence the law which now requires them, when by any -means they have obtained their freedom, to remove beyond the limits of -the State, is a very serious hardship and should cease to exist. This -would be a long stride toward your own relief from the burden of which -you complain. As to the slaves, who you think should be content with -their condition, in which they have, as you say, 'no care for necessary -food and raiment,' I would suggest that they have the faculty of -distinguishing between slavery and bondage, and have sense enough to see -that though these things,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> which are generally of the coarsest kind, are -provided by their masters, the means by which they are furnished are but -a scanty portion of their own hard earnings. Were they free, they could -work in the same way, and be entitled to <i>all</i> the fruits of their -labor. Then they would have the same inducements to toil that we now -have, and the same ambition to lift themselves higher and higher in the -social scale. Those white men whom you believe willing to exchange -situations with them, are too indolent to enjoy the privileges of -freedom, and would be utterly worthless as slaves. You declaim against -the course which the Abolitionists have pursued, and seem disposed, in -consequence, to tighten the cords of servitude. You would be let alone, -forsooth, to bear this burden as long as you please, and to get rid of -it at pleasure. So long as there was any hope that you would do what you -ought in the matter, you were let alone, and if you were the only -sufferers from your peculiar institution, you might continue -undisturbed; but the yoke lies heavy and galling upon the poor slaves -themselves, whose voices are stifled, and it is high time for the -friends of human rights to speak in their behalf, till they make -themselves heard. At this momentous period, when new States and -Territories are knocking for admission at the doors of our Union—States -and Territories of free and virgin soil, which you are seeking to defile -by the introduction of slavery—it is fit that they should persevere in -their noble efforts, that they should resist your endeavors, and strive -with all their energies to confine the obnoxious institution within its -already too-extended bounds; for they know, that, if they would attain -their object—the ultimate and entire abolition of slavery from our -land—they should oppose strenuously every movement tending to its -extension; for, the broader the surface over which it spreads, the more -formidable will be the difficulty of its removal. Therefore it is that -they are now so zealously engaged, and they address you as men whose -'judgment has not fled to brutish beasts,' with arguments against the -evil itself and the weight of anguish it entails. Thus they have ever -done, and you tell me that the result has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> been to rivet the chains of -those in whose behalf they plead. As well might the sinner, whose guilt -is pointed out to him by the minister of God, resolve for that very -reason to plunge more deeply into sin."</p> - -<p>His voice became gradually calmer and calmer, until finally it sank into -the low notes of a solemn half-whisper. I held my breath in intense -excitement, but this transport was broken by the harsh tones of the -Virginian, who said:</p> - -<p>"All this is very ridiculous as well as unjust; for, at the South slaves -are regarded as property, and, inasmuch as our territories are acquired -by the common blood and treasure of the whole country, we have as much -right to locate in them with our property as you have with any of those -things which are recognized as property at the North. In your great love -of human rights you might take some thought of us; but the secret of -your action is jealousy of our advancement by the aid of slave-labor, -which you would have at the North if you needed it. We understand you -well, and we are heartily tired of your insulting and impudent cant -about the evils of the system of slavery. We want no more of it."</p> - -<p>Mr. Trueman, without noticing the insolence of Winston, continued in the -same impressive manner:</p> - -<p>"We do take much thought of you at the South, and hence it is that we -dislike to see you passively submitting to the continuance of an -institution so fraught with evil in itself, and very burdensome, as even -you have admitted. We, of the North, feel strongly bound to you by the -recollection of common dangers, struggles and trials; and, with an -honorable pride, we wish our whole nation to stand fair, and, so far as -possible, blameless before the world. We are doing all we can to remove -the evils of every kind which exist at the North; and, as we are not -sectional in our purposes, we would stimulate you to necessary action in -regard to your especial system. We know its evils from sore experience, -for it once prevailed amongst us; but, fortunately, we opened our eyes, -and gave ourselves a blessed riddance of it. The example is well worthy -of your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> imitation, but, 'pleased as you are with the possession', says -Blackstone, speaking of the origin and growth of property, 'you seem -afraid to look back to the means by which it was acquired, as if fearful -of some defect in your title; or, at best, you rest satisfied with the -decision of the laws in your favor, without examining the reason or -authority upon which those laws have been built.' To the eyes of the -nations, who regard us from far across the ocean, and who see us, as a -body, better than we see ourselves, slavery is the great blot that -obscures the disc of our Republic, dimming the effulgence of its -Southern half, as a partial eclipse darkens the world's glorious -luminary. It is, therefore, not alone upon the score of human rights in -general, but from a personal interest in our National character, that -the Abolitionists interfere. Various Congressional enactments have -confirmed the justice of these views, which they are endeavoring to -enforce by moral suasion (for they deprecate violence) upon the South. -Those enactments assume jurisdiction, to some extent at least, upon the -subject of slavery, having gone so far as to prohibit the continuance of -the slave-trade, denouncing it as piracy, and punishing with death those -who are in any way engaged in it. I have yet to learn that the South has -ever protested against this law, in which the Abolitionists see a strong -confirmation of their own just principles. Why should they not go a step -further, and forbid all traffic in slaves, such as is pursued among your -people? Why do not the States themselves interpose their power to put -down at once and forever, such nefarious business? This would be -productive of vastly more good than anything which Colonization -societies can effect."</p> - -<p>"Suppose, sir," began Mr. Winston, "we were to annul the present laws -regulating the manumission of slaves, and to abolish the institution -entirely from our midst; where would be the safety of our own white -race? There is great cause for the apprehension generally entertained, -of perpetual danger and annoyance, if they were permitted to remain -among us. They are there in large numbers, and, having once obtained -their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> freedom, with permission to reside where they now are, they would -seek to become 'a power in the State,' which would incite them, if -resisted, into fearful rebellion. These are contingencies which -sagacious statesmen have foreseen, and which they would be unable to -avert. Consequently, they had rather bear those ills they have, than fly -to others that they know not of."</p> - -<p>"How infelicitous," Mr. Trueman suddenly retorted, "is your quotation, -for, truly, you 'know not' that these anticipated consequences would -ensue; but 'motes they are to trouble the mind's eye.' Your sagacious -statesmen might more wisely employ their thoughts in contemplating the -more probable results of continuing your slaves in their present abject -condition. Far more reason is there to apprehend rebellion and -insurrection now, than the distant dangers you predict. Even this last -objection is vain, unsubstantial, and, at best, only speculative, -resorted to as an unction to mollify the sores of conscience. Some of -your eminent men have expressed a hope that the colored race might be -removed from the South, and from slavery, through the instrumentality of -Colonization, by which, it is expected, that they would eventually be -transported to Africa, and encouraged to establish governments for -themselves. This proposal is liable, and with more emphasis, to the -objection I advanced a while ago, when speaking of the laws which -practically discourage manumission, for, if it is a hardship (as I -contend it is) for them to be driven from their native State to one -strange and unfamiliar to them, it is increasing that severity to -require them to seek a home in Africa, whose climate is as uncongenial -to them as to us, and with whose institutions they feel as little -interest, or identity, as we do. Admit, for a moment, the practicability -of such a scheme. We should, soon after, be called upon to recognize -them as one of the nations of the earth, with whom we should treat as we -do now with the English, French, German, and other nations. I will -suggest to your Southern sages, who delight in speculations, that, in -the progress of years, they might desire, in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span>imitation of some other -people, to accept the invitations we extend to the oppressed and unhappy -of the earth. What is there, in that case, to hinder them from -immigrating in large numbers? Could you distinguish between immigrants -of their class, and those who now settle upon our soil? Either you could -or you could not. If you could not so distinguish, you would in all -likelihood have them speedily back, in greater numbers than they come -from Green Erin, or Fader-land. Thus you would be reduced to almost the -same condition as general emancipation would bring about; but, if you -could, and did make the distinction, is it not quite likely that deadly -offence would be given to their government, which, added to their -already accumulated wrongs, would light up the fires of a more frightful -war than the intestine rebellion you have talked of; or than any that -has ever desolated this continent? Bethink yourselves of these things -amid your gloomy forebodings, and you will find them pregnant with -fearful issues. You will discover, too, the folly of longer maintaining -your burdensome system, and the wisdom of heeding whilst you may, the -counsel of the philanthropic, which urges you to just, generous, speedy, -universal emancipation. But I have fatigued you, and will stop; hoping -soon to hear that you have magnanimously redeemed the promise which I -had the gratification to hear at the commencement of our conversation."</p> - -<p>When Mr. Trueman paused, Mr. Winston sprang to his feet in a rage, -knocking over his chair in the excitement, and declaring that he had -most patiently listened to flimsy Abolition talk, in which there was no -shadow of argument, mere common cant; that he would advise Mr. Trueman -to be more particular in the dissemination of his dangerous and -obnoxious opinions; and, as to his own voluntary pledge, it was -conditional, and those conditions had not been complied with, and he did -not consider himself bound to redeem it. Mr. Trueman endeavored to calm -and soothe the hot-blooded Southerner; but his words had no effect upon -the illiberal man, whom he had so fairly demolished in argument.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span></p><p>As they passed my hiding-place, <i>en route</i> to their respective -apartments, I peeped out through a crevice in the door at them. It was -very easy to detect the calm, self-poised man, the thoughtful reasoner, -in the still, pale face and erect form of Trueman; whilst the red, -hot-flushed countenance, the quick, peering eye and audacious manner of -the other, revealed his unpleasant disposition and unsystematized mind.</p> - -<p>When the last echo of their retreating footsteps had died upon the ear, -I stole from my concealment, and ventured to my own quarters. Many new -thoughts sprang into existence in my mind, suggested by the conversation -to which I had listened.</p> - -<p>I venerated Mr. Trueman more than ever. No disciple ever regarded the -face of his master so reverently as I watched his countenance, when I -chanced to meet him in any part of the house.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXX.</h2> - -<p class="center">THE MISDEMEANOR—THE PUNISHMENT—ITS CONSEQUENCE—FRIGHT.</p> - -<p>The next day Miss Jane, observing my unusual thoughtfulness, said:</p> - -<p>"Come, now, Ann, you are not quite free. From the airs that you have put -on, one would think you had been made so."</p> - -<p>"What have I done, Miss Jane?" This was asked in a quiet tone, perhaps -not so obsequiously as she thought it should be. Thereupon she took -great offence.</p> - -<p>"How dare you, Miss, speak <i>to me</i> in that tone? Take that," and she -dealt me a blow across the forehead with a long, limber whalebone, that -laid the flesh open. I was so stunned by it that I reeled, and should -have fallen to the floor, had I not supported myself by the bed-post.</p> - -<p>"Don't you dare to scream."</p> - -<p>I attempted to bind up my brow with a handkerchief. This she regarded as -affectation.</p> - -<p>"Take care, Miss Ann," she often prefixed the Miss when she was mad, by -way of taunting me; "give yourself none of those important airs. I'll -take you down a little."</p> - -<p>When Mr. Summerville entered, she began to cry, saying:</p> - -<p>"Husband, this nigger-wench has given me a great deal of impertinence. -Father never allowed it; now I want to know if you will not protect me -from such insults."</p> - -<p>"Certainly, my love, I'll not allow any one, white or black, to insult -you. Ann, how dare you give your mistress impudence?"</p> - -<p>"I did not mean it, Master William." I had thus addressed him ever since -his marriage.</p> - -<p>I attempted to relate the conversation that had occurred,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> wherein Miss -Jane thought I had been impudent, when she suddenly sprang up, -exclaiming:</p> - -<p>"Do you allow a negro to give testimony against your own wife?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly not."</p> - -<p>"Now, Mr. Summerville," she was getting angry with him, "I require you -to whip that girl severely; if you don't do it—why—" and she ground -her teeth fiercely.</p> - -<p>"I will have her whipped, my dear, but I cannot whip her."</p> - -<p>"Why can't you?" and the lady's eye flashed.</p> - -<p>"Because I should be injured by it. <i>Gentlemen</i> do not correct negroes; -they hire others to do that sort of business."</p> - -<p>"Ah, well, then, hire some one who will do it well."</p> - -<p>"Come with me, Ann," he said to me, as I stood speechless with fear and -mortification.</p> - -<p>Seeing him again motion me to follow, I, forgetful of the injustice that -had been done me, and the honest resentment I should feel—forgetful of -everything but the humiliation to which they were going to subject -me—fell on my knees before Miss Jane, and besought her to excuse, to -forgive me, and I would never offend her again.</p> - -<p>"Don't dare to ask mercy of me. You know that I am too much like father -to spare a nigger."</p> - -<p>Ah, well I knew it! and vainly I sued to her. I might have known that -she rejoiced too much in the sport; and, had she been in the country, -would have asked no higher pleasure than to attend to it personally. A -negro's scream of agony was music to her ears.</p> - -<p>I governed myself as well as I could while I followed Mr. Summerville -through the halls and winding galleries. Down flights of steps, through -passages and lobbys we went, until at last we landed in the cellar. -There Mr. Summerville surrendered me to the care of a Mr. Monkton, the -bar-keeper of the establishment duly appointed and fitted for the office -of slave-whipping.</p> - -<p>"Here," said Mr. Summerville, "give this girl a good, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span>genteel whipping; -but no cruelty, Monkton, and here is your fee;" so saying he handed him -a half-dollar, then left the dismal cellar.</p> - -<p>I have since read long and learned accounts of the gloomy, subterranean -cells, in which the cruel ministers of the Spanish Inquisition performed -their horrible deeds; and I think this cellar very nearly resembled -them. There it was, with its low, damp, vault-like roof; its unwholesome -air, earthen floor, covered with broken wine bottles, and oyster cans, -the debris of many a wild night's revel! There stood the monster -Monkton, with his fierce, lynx eye, his profuse black beard, and frousy -brows; a great, stalwart man, of a hard face and manner, forming no bad -picture of those wolfish inquisitors of cruel, Catholic Spain!</p> - -<p>Over this untempting scene a dim, waning lamp, threw its blue glare, -only rendering the place more hideous.</p> - -<p>"Now, girl, I am to lick you well. You see the half-dollar. Well, I'm to -git the worth of it out of your hide. Now, what would you think if I -didn't give you a single lick?"</p> - -<p>I looked him full in the face, and even by that equivocal light I had -power to discern his horrid purpose, and I quickly and proudly replied,</p> - -<p>"I should think you did your duty poorly."</p> - -<p>"And why?"</p> - -<p>"Because you engaged to do <i>the job</i>, and even received your pay in -advance; therefore, if you fail to comply with your bargain, you are not -trustworthy."</p> - -<p>"Wal, you're smart enough for a lawyer."</p> - -<p>"Well, attend to your business."</p> - -<p>"This is my business," and he held up a stout wagon-whip; "come, strip -off."</p> - -<p>"That is not a part of the contract."</p> - -<p>"Yes; but it's the way I always whips 'em."</p> - -<p>"You were not told to use me so, and I am not going to remove one -article of my clothing."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but you <i>shall</i>;" and he approached me, his wild eye<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> glaring with -a lascivious light, and the deep passion-spot blazing on his cheek.</p> - -<p>"Girl, you've got to yield to me. I'll have you now, if it's only to -show you that I can."</p> - -<p>I drew back a few steps, and, seizing a broken bottle, waited, with a -deadly purpose, to see what he would do. He came so near that I almost -fancied his fetid breath played with its damnable heat upon my very -cheek.</p> - -<p>"You've got to be mine. I'll give you a fine calico dress, and a pretty -pair of ear-bobs!"</p> - -<p>This was too much for further endurance. What! must I give up the -angel-sealed honor of my life in traffic for trinkets? Where is the -woman that would not have hotly resented such an insult?</p> - -<p>I turned upon him like a hungry lioness, and just as his wanton hand was -about to be laid upon me, I dexterously aimed, and hurled the bottle -directly against his left temple. With a low cry of pain he fell to the -floor, and the blood oozed freely from the wound.</p> - -<p>As my first impression was that I had slain him, so was it my first -desperate impulse to kill myself; yet with a second thought came my -better intention, and, unlocking the door, I turned and left the gloomy -cell. I mounted the dust-covered steps, and rapidly threaded silent, -spider festooned halls, until I regained the upper courts. How beautiful -seemed the full gush of day-light to me! But the heavy weight of a -supposed crime bowed me to the earth.</p> - -<p>My first idea was to proceed directly to Mr. Summerville's apartment and -make a truthful statement of the affair. What he would do or have done -to me was a matter upon which I had expended no thought. My apprehension -was altogether for the safety of my soul. Homicide was so fearful a -thing, that even when committed in actual self-defence, I feared for the -justice of it. The Divine interrogatory made to Cain rang with painful -accuracy in my mental ear! "Am I my brother's keeper?" I repeated it -again and again, and I lived years in the brief<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> space of a moment. Away -over the trackless void of the future fled imagination, painting all -things and scenes with a sombre color.</p> - -<p>The first recognizable person whom I met was Mr. Winston. I knew there -was but little to hope for from him, for ever since the argument between -himself and Mr. Trueman, he had appeared unusually haughty; and the -waiters said that he had become excessively overbearing, that he was -constantly knocking them around with his gold-headed cane, and swearing -that Kentucky slaves were almost as bad as Northern free negroes.</p> - -<p>Henry (who had become a <i>most dear friend of mine</i>) told me that Mr. -Winston had on one or two occasions, without the slightest provocation, -struck him severely over the head; but these things were pretty -generally done in the presence of Mr. Trueman, and for no higher object, -I honestly believe, than to annoy that pure-souled philanthropist. So I -was assured that he was not one to entrust with my secret, especially as -a great intimacy had sprung up between him and Miss Jane. I, therefore, -hastily passed him, and a few steps on met Mr. Trueman. How serene -appeared his chaste, marble face! Who that looked upon him, with his -quiet, reflective eye, but knew that an angel sat enthroned within his -bosom? Do not such faces help to prove the perfectibility of the race? -If, as the transcendentalists believe, these noble characters are only -types of what the <i>whole man</i> will be, may we not expect much from the -advent of that dubious personage?</p> - -<p>"Mr. Trueman," I said, and my voice was clear and unfaltering, for -something in his face and manner exorcised all fear, "I have done a -fearful deed."</p> - -<p>"What, child?" he asked, and his eye was full of solicitude.</p> - -<p>I then gave him a hurried account of what had occurred in the cellar. -After a slight pause, he said:</p> - -<p>"The best thing for you to do will be to make instant confession to Mr. -Summerville. Alas! I fear it will go hard with you, for <i>you are a -slave</i>."</p> - -<p>I thanked him for the interest he had manifested in me, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> passed on -to Miss Jane's room. I paused one moment at the door, before turning the -knob. What a variety of feelings were at work in my breast! Had I a -fellow-creature's blood upon my hands? I trembled in every limb, but at -length controlled myself sufficiently to enter.</p> - -<p>There sat Miss Jane, engaged at her crochet-work, and Master William -playing with the balls of cotton and silk in her little basket.</p> - -<p>"Well, Ann, I trust you've got your just deserts, a good whipping," said -Miss Jane, as she fixed her eyes upon me.</p> - -<p>Very calmly I related all that had occurred. Mr. Summerville sprang to -his feet and rushed from the room, whilst Miss Jane set up a series of -screams loud enough to reach the most distant part of the house. All my -services were required to keep her from swooning, or <i>affecting to -swoon</i>.</p> - -<p>The ladies from the adjoining rooms rushed in to her assistance, and -were soon busy chafing her hands, rubbing her feet, and bathing her -temples.</p> - -<p>"Isn't this terrible!" ejaculated one.</p> - -<p>"What <i>is</i> the matter?" cried another.</p> - -<p>"Poor creature, she is hysterical," was the explanation of a third.</p> - -<p>I endeavored to explain the cause of Miss Jane's excitement.</p> - -<p>"You did right," said one lady, whose truly womanly spirit burst through -all conventionality and restraint.</p> - -<p>"What," said one, a genuine Southern conservative, "do you say it was -right for a slave to oppose and resist the punishment which her master -had directed?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly not; but it was right for a female, no matter whether white -or black, to resist, even to the shedding of blood, the lascivious -advances of a bold libertine."</p> - -<p>"Do you believe the girl's story?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; why not?"</p> - -<p>"I don't; it bears the impress of falsehood on its very face."</p> - -<p>"No," added another Kentucky true-blue, "Mr. Monkton<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> was going to whip -her, and she resisted him. That's the correct version of the story, I'll -bet my life on it."</p> - -<p>To all of this aspersion upon myself, I was bound to be a silent -auditor, yet ever obeying their slightest order to hand them water, -cologne, &c. Is not this slavery indeed?</p> - -<p>When Mr. Summerville left the room, he hastily repaired to the bar, -where he made the story known, and getting assistance, forthwith went to -the cellar, Mr. Winston forming one of the party of investigation. His -Southern prejudices were instantly aroused, and he was ready "to do or -die" for the propogation of the "peculiar institution."</p> - -<p>The result of their trip was to find Monkton very feeble from the loss -of blood, and suffering from the cut made by the broken bottle, but with -enough life left in him for the fabrication of a falsehood, which was of -course believed, as he had a <i>white face</i>. He stated that he had -proceeded to the administration of the whipping, directed by my master; -that I resisted him; and finding it necessary to bind me, he was -attempting to do so, when I swore that I would kill him, and that -suiting the action to the word, I hurled the broken bottle at his -temples.</p> - -<p>When Mr. Summerville repeated this to Miss Jane, in my presence, stating -that it was the testimony that Monkton was prepared to give in open -court, for I was to be arrested, I could not refrain from uttering a cry -of surprise, and saying:</p> - -<p>"Mr. Monkton has misrepresented the case, as 'I can show.'"</p> - -<p>"Yes, but you will not be allowed to give evidence," said Master -William.</p> - -<p>"Will Mr. Monkton's testimony be taken?" I inquired.</p> - -<p>"Certainly, but a negro cannot bear witness against a white person."</p> - -<p>I said nothing, but many thoughts were troubling me.</p> - -<p>"You see, Ann, what your bad conduct has brought <i>you to</i>," said Miss -Jane.</p> - -<p>Again I attempted to tell the facts of the case, and defend myself, but -she interrupted me, saying:</p> - -<p>"Do you suppose I believe a word of that? I can assure<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> you I do not, -and, moreover, I'm not going to spend my money to have a lawyer employed -to keep you from the punishment you so richly deserve. So you must -content yourself to take the public hanging or whipping in the jail -yard, which is the penalty that will be affixed to your crime." Turning -to Mr. Summerville, she added, "I think it will do Ann good, for it will -take down her pride, and make her a valuable nigger. She has been too -proud of her character; for my part, I had rather she had had less -virtue. I've always thought she was virtuous because she did not want us -to increase in property, and was too proud to have her children live in -bondage."</p> - -<p>I dared not make any remark; but there I stood in dread of the -approaching arrest, which came full soon.</p> - -<p>As I was sewing for Miss Jane, Mr. Summerville opened the door, and said -to a rough man, pointing to me—</p> - -<p>"There's the girl."</p> - -<p>"Come along with me to jail, gal."</p> - -<p>How fearfully sounded the command. The jail-house was a place of terror, -and though I had in my brief life "supped full of horrors," this was a -new species of torture that I had hoped to leave untasted.</p> - -<p>Taking with me nothing but my bonnet, I followed Constable Calcraft down -stairs into the street. Upon one of the landings I met Henry, and I knew -from his kindly mournful glance, that he gave me all his compassion.</p> - -<p>"Good-bye, Ann," he said, extending his hand to me, "good-bye, and keep -of good cheer; the Lord will be with you." I looked at him, and saw that -his lip was quivering; and his dark eye glittered with a furtive tear. I -dared not trust my voice, so, with a grateful pressure of the hand, I -passed him by, keeping up my composure right stoutly. At the foot of the -stair I met Louise, who was weeping.</p> - -<p>"I believe you, Ann, we all believe you, and the Lord will make it -appear on the day of your trial that you are right, only keep up your -spirits, and read this," and she slipped a little pocket-Testament into -my hand, which was a welcome present.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p><p>Now, I thought, the last trial is over. All the tender ones who love me -have spoken their comforting words, and I may resume my pride and -hauteur; but no—standing within the vestibule was the man whom I -reverenced above all others, Mr. Trueman. One effort more, and then I -might be calm; but before the sunshine of his kindliness the snow and -ice of my pride melted and passed away in showers of tears. The first -glance of his pitying countenance made me weep. I was weary and -heavy-laden, and, even as to a mortal brother, I longed to pour into his -ear the pent-up agony of my soul.</p> - -<p>"Poor girl," he said kindly, as he offered me his white and -finely-formed hand, "I believe you innocent; there is that in your -clear, womanly look, your unaffected utterance, that proves to me you -are worthy to be heard. Trust in God."</p> - -<p>Oh, can I ever forget the diamond-like glister of his blue eyes! and -<i>that tear</i> was evoked from its fountain for my sorrow; even then I felt -a thrill of joy. We love to have the sympathy and confidence of the -truly great. I made no reply, in words, to Mr. Trueman, but he -understood me.</p> - -<p>Conducted by the constable, I passed through a number of streets, all -crowded with the busy and active, perhaps the <i>happy</i>. Ah, what a fable -that word seemed to express! I used to doubt every smiling face I saw, -and think it a <i>radiant lie</i>! but, since then, though in a subdued -sense, I have learned that mortals may be happy.</p> - -<p>We stopped, after a long walk, in front of a large building of Ionic -architecture, and of dark brown stone, ornamented by beautiful flutings, -with a tasteful slope of rich sward in front, adorned with a variety of -flowers and shrubbery. Through this we passed and reached the first -court, which was surrounded by a high stone-wall. Passing through a low -door-way, we stood on the first pave; here I was surrendered to the -keeping of the jailer, a man apparently devoid of generosity and -humanity. After hearing from Constable Calcraft an account of the crime -for which I was committed, he observed—</p> - -<p>"A sassy, impudent, <i>on</i>ruly gal, I guess; we have plenty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> <i>sich</i>; this -will larn her a lessin. Come with me," he said, as he turned his -besotted face toward me.</p> - -<p>Through dirty, dark, filthy passages I went, until we reached a gloomy, -loathsome apartment, in which he rudely thrust me, saying—</p> - -<p>"Thar's your quarters."</p> - -<p>Such a place as it was! A small room of six by eight, with a dirty, -discolored floor, over which rats and mice scampered <i>ad libitum</i>. One -miserable little iron grate let in a stray ray of daylight, only -revealing those loathsome things which the friendly darkness would have -concealed. Cowering in the corner of this wretched pen was a poor, -neglected white woman, whose face seemed unacquainted with soap and -water, and her hair tagged, ragged, and unused to comb or brush. She -clasped to her breast a weasly suckling, that every now and then gave a -sickly cry, indicative of the cholic or a heated atmosphere.</p> - -<p>"Poor comfort!" said the woman, as I entered, "poor comfort here, whare -the starved wretches are cryin' for ar. My baby has bin a sinkin' ever -sense I come here. I'd not keer much if we could both die."</p> - -<p>"For what are you to be tried?"</p> - -<p>"For takin' a loaf of bread to keep myself and child from starvin'."</p> - -<p>She then asked me for what I stood accused. I told her my story, and we -grew quite talkative and sociable, thereby realizing the old axiom, -"Misery loves company."</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * *</p> - -<p>For several days I lingered on thus, diversifying the time only by -reading my Testament, the gift of Louise, and occasionally having a long -talk with my companion, whom I learned to address by the name of Fanny. -She was a woman of remarkably sensitive feelings, quick and warm in all -her impulses; just such a creature as an education and kindly training -would have made lovely and lovable; but she had been utterly -neglected—had grown up a complete human weed.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p><p>Our meals were served round to us upon a large wooden drawer, as filthy -as dirt and grease could make it. The cuisine dashed our rations, a -slice of fat bacon and "pone" of corn bread to us, with as little -ceremony as though we had been dogs; and we were allowed one blanket to -sleep on.</p> - -<p>One day, when I felt more than usually gloomy, I was agreeably -disappointed, as the cumbersome door opened to admit my kind friend -Louise. The jailer remarked:</p> - -<p>"You may stay about a quarter of an hour, but no longer."</p> - -<p>"Thank you, sir," she replied.</p> - -<p>"This is very kind of you, Louise," for I was touched by the visit.</p> - -<p>"I wanted to see you, Ann; and look what I brought you!" She held a -beautiful bouquet to me.</p> - -<p>"Thank you, thank you a thousand times, this <i>is</i> too kind," I said, as -I watered the lovely flowers with my tears.</p> - -<p>"Oh, they were sent to you," she answered, with a smile.</p> - -<p>"And who sent them?"</p> - -<p>"Why, Henry, of course;" and again she smiled.</p> - -<p>I know not why, but I felt the blood rushing warmly to my face, as I -bent my head very low, to conceal a confusion which I did not -understand.</p> - -<p>"But here is something that I did bring you," and, opening a basket, she -drew out a nice, tempting pie, some very delicious fruit cake, and white -bread.</p> - -<p>"I suppose your fare is miserable?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, worse than miserable."</p> - -<p>Fanny drew near me, and without the least timidity, stretched forth her -hand.</p> - -<p>"Oh, please give me some, only a little; I'm nearly starved?"</p> - -<p>I freely gave her the larger portion, for she could enjoy it. I had the -flowers, the blessed flowers, that Henry had sent, and they were food -and drink for me!</p> - -<p>Louise informed me that, since my arrest, she had cleared up and -arranged Miss Jane's room; and she thought it was Mr. Summerville's -intention to sell me after the trial.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span></p><p>"Have you heard who will buy me?" I asked.</p> - -<p>"Oh, no, I don't suppose an offer has yet been made; nor do I know that -it is their positive intention to sell you; but that is what I judged -from their conversation."</p> - -<p>"If they get me a good master I am very willing to be sold; for I could -not find a worse home than I have now."</p> - -<p>"I expect if he sells you, it will be to a trader; but, keep up your -heart and spirits. Remember, 'sufficient for the day is the evil -thereof.' But I hear the sound of footsteps; the jailer is coming; my -quarter of an hour is out."</p> - -<p>"How came he to admit you?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I know Mr. Trayton very well. I've washed for his wife, and she -owes me a little bill of a couple of dollars; so when I came here, I -said by way of a bait, 'Now, Mrs. Trayton, I didn't come to dun you, -I'll make you a present of that little bill;' then she and he were both -in a mighty good humor with me. I then said, 'I've got a friend here, -and I'd take it as a favor if you'd let me see her for a little while.'"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Trayton said:"</p> - -<p>"'Oh, that can't be—it's against the rules.'"</p> - -<p>"So his wife set to work, and persuaded him that he owed me a favor, and -he consented to let me see you for a quarter of an hour only. Before he -comes, tell me what message I am to give Henry for you. I know he will -be anxious to hear."</p> - -<p>Again I felt the blood tingling in my veins, and overspreading my face. -I began to play with my flowers, and muttered out something about -gratitude for the welcome present, a message which, incoherent as it -was, her woman's wit knew to be sincere and gracious. After a few -moments the jailer came, saying:</p> - -<p>"Louise, your time is up."</p> - -<p>"I am ready to go," and she took up her basket. After bidding me a kind -adieu she departed, carrying with her much of the sunshine which her -presence had brought, but not all of it, for she left with me a ray or -so to illumine the darkened cell of recollection. There on my lap lay -the blooming flowers,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> <i>his</i> gift! Flowers are always a joy to us—they -gladden and beautify our outer and every-day life; they preach us a -sermon of beauty and love; but to the weary, lonely captive, in his -dismal cell, they are particularly beautiful! They speak to him in a -voice which nothing else can, of the glory of the sun-lit world, from -which he is exiled. Thanks to God for flowers! Rude, and coarse, and -vile must be the nature that can trample them with unhallowed feet!</p> - -<p>There I sat toying with them, inhaling their mystic odor, and -luxuriating upon the delicacy of their ephemeral beauty. All flowers -were dear to me; but these were particularly precious, and wherefore? Is -there a single female heart that will not divine "the wherefore"? You, -who are clad in satin, and decked with jewels, albeit your face is as -white as snow, cannot boast of emotions different from ours? Feeling, -emotion, is the same in the African and the white woman? We are made of -the same clay, and informed by the same spirit.</p> - -<p>The better portion of the night I sat there, sadly wakeful, still -clutching those flowers to my breast, and covering them with kisses.</p> - -<p>The heavy breathing of my companion sounded drowsily in my ear, yet -never wooed me to a like repose. Thus wore on the best part of the -night, until the small, shadowy hours, when I sank to a sweet dream. I -was wandering in a rich garden of tropical flowers, with Henry by my -side! Through enchanted gates we passed, hand in hand, singing as we -went. Long and dreamily we loitered by low-gurgling summer fountains, -listening to the lulling wail of falling water. Then we journeyed on -toward a fairy flower-palace, that loomed up greenly in the distance, -which ever, as we approached it, seemed to recede further.</p> - -<p>I awoke before we reached the floral palace, and I am womanly enough to -confess, that I felt annoyed that the dream had been broken by the cry -of Fanny's babe. I puzzled myself trying to read its import. Are there -many women who would have differed from me? Yet I was distressed to -find<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> Fanny's little boy-babe very sick, so much so as to require -medical attention; but, alas! she was too poor to offer remuneration to -a doctor, therefore none was sent for; and, as the child was attacked -with croup, it actually died for the want of medical attention. And this -occurred in a community boasting of its enlightenment and Christianity, -and in a city where fifty-two churches reared their gilded domes and -ornamented spires, in a God-fearing and God-serving community, proud of -its benevolent societies, its hospitals, &c. In what, I ask, are these -Christians better than the Pharisees of old, who prayed long, well, and -much, in their splendid temples?</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXXI.</h2> - -<p class="center">THE DAY OF TRIAL—ANXIETY—THE VOLUNTEER COUNSEL—VERDICT OF THE JURY.</p> - -<p>The day of my trial dawned as fair and bright as any that ever broke -over the sinful world. It rose upon my slumber mildly, and without -breaking its serenity. I slept better on the night preceding the trial, -than I had done since my incarceration.</p> - -<p>I knew that I was friendless and alone, and on the eve of a trial -wherein I stood accused of a fearful crime; that I was defenceless; yet -I rested my cause with Him, who has bidden the weary and heavy-laden to -come unto Him, and He will give them rest. Strong in this consciousness, -I sank to the sweetest slumber and the rosiest dreams. Through my mind -gracefully flitted the phantom of Henry.</p> - -<p>When Fanny woke me to receive my unrelished breakfast, she said:</p> - -<p>"You've forgot that this is the day of trial; you sleep as unconsarned -as though the trial was three weeks off. For my part, now that the baby -is dead, I don't kere much what becomes of me."</p> - -<p>"My cause," I replied, "is with God. To His keeping I have confided -myself; therefore, I can sleep soundly."</p> - -<p>"Have you got any lawyer?"</p> - -<p>"No; I am a slave, and my master will not employ one."</p> - -<p>After a few hours we heard the sound of a bell, that announced the -opening of court. The jailer conducted me out of the jail yard into the -Court House. It was the first time I had ever seen the interior of a -court-room, when the court was in full session, and I was not very much -edified by the sight.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p><p>The outside of the building was very tasteful and elegant, with most -ornate decorations; but the interior was shocking. In the first place it -was unfinished, and the bald, unplastered walls struck me as being -exceedingly comfortless. Then the long, redundant cobwebs were gathered -in festoons from rafter to rafter, whilst the floor was fairly -tesselated with spots of tobacco-juice, which had been most dexterously -ejected from certain <i>legal</i> orifices, commonly known as the <i>mouths of -lawyers</i>, who, for want of opportunity to <i>speak</i>, resorted to chewing.</p> - -<p>The judge, a lazy-looking old gentleman, sat in a time-worn arm-chair, -ready to give his decision in the case of the Commonwealth <i>versus</i> Ann, -slave of William Summerville; and seeming to me very much as though his -opinion was made up without a hearing.</p> - -<p>And there, ranged round his Honor, were the practitioners and members of -the bar, all of them in seedy clothes, unshorn and unshaven. Here and -there you would find a veteran of the bar, who claimed it as his -especial privilege to outrage the King's or the President's English and -common decency; and, as a matter of course, all the younger ones were -aiming to imitate him; but, as it was impossible to do that in ability, -they succeeded, to admiration, in copying his ill-manners.</p> - -<p>Two of them I particularly noticed, as I sat in the prisoner's dock, -awaiting the "coming up of my case." One of them the Court frequently -addressed as Mr. Spear, and a very pointless spear he seemed;—a little, -short, chunky man, with yellow, stiff, bristling hair, that stood out -very straight, as if to declare its independence of the brain, and away -it went on its owner's well-defined principle of "going it on your own -hook." He had a little snub of a nose that possessed the good taste to -turn away in disgust from its neighbor, a tobacco-stained mouth of no -particular dimensions, and, I should judge from the sneer of the said -nose, of no very pleasant odor; little, hard, flinty, grizzly-gray eyes, -that seemed to wink as though they were afraid of seeing the truth. -Altogether, it was the most disagreeably-comic phiz that I remember ever -to have seen. To <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span>complete the ludicrous picture, he was a -self-sufficient body, quite elate at the idea of speaking "in public on -the stage." His speech was made up of the frequent repetition of "my -client claims" so and so, and "may it please your Honor," and "I'll call -the attention of the Court to the fact," and such like phrases, but -whether his client was guilty of the charge set forth in the indictment, -he neither proved nor disproved.</p> - -<p>The other individual whom I remarked, was a great, fat, flabby man, -whose flesh (like that of a rhinoceros) hung loosely on the bones. He -seemed to consider personal ease, rather than taste, in the arrangement -of his toilet; for he appeared in the presence of the court in a pair of -half-worn slippers, stockings "down-gyved," a shirt-bosom much spotted -with tobacco-juice, and a neck-cloth loosely adjusted about his red, -beefish throat. His little watery blue eye reminded me forcibly of -skimmed milk; whilst his big nose, as red as a peony, told the story -that he was no advocate of the Maine liquor law, and that he had "<i>voted -for license</i>."</p> - -<p>He was said, by some of the bystanders, to have made an excellent speech -adverse to his client, and in favor of the side against which he was -employed.</p> - -<p>"Hurrah for litigation," said an animadverter who stood in proximity to -me. After awhile, and in due course of docket, my case came up.</p> - -<p>"Has she no counsel?" asked the judge.</p> - -<p>After a moment's pause, some one answered, "No; she has none."</p> - -<p>I felt a chill gathering at my heart, for there was a slight movement in -the crowd; and, upon looking round, I discovered Mr. Trueman making his -way through the audience. After a few words with several members of the -bar and the judge, he was duly sworn in, and introduced to the Court as -Mr. Trueman, a lawyer from Massachusetts, who desired to be admitted as -a practitioner at this bar. Thus duly qualified, he volunteered his -services in my defence. The look which I gave him came directly from my -overflowing heart, and I am sure spoke my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> thanks more effectual than -words could have done. But he gave me no other recognition than a faint -smile.</p> - -<p>As the case began, my attention was arrested. The jury was selected -without difficulty; for, as none of the panel had heard of the case, the -counsel waived the privilege of challenging. After the reading of the -indictment, setting forth formally "an assault upon Mr. Monkton, with -intent to kill, by one Ann, slave of William Summerville," the -Commonwealth's attorney introduced Mr. Monkton himself as the only -witness in the case.</p> - -<p>In a very minute and evidently pre-arranged story, he proceeded to -detail the circumstances of a violent and deadly assault, which seemed -to impress the jury greatly to my prejudice. When he had concluded, the -prosecutor remarked that he had no further evidence, and proposed to -submit the case, without argument, to the jury, as Mr. Trueman had no -witnesses in my favor. To this proposal, however, Mr. Trueman would not -accede; and so the prosecutor briefly argued upon the testimony and the -law applicable to it. Then Mr. Trueman rose, and a thrill seemed to run -through the audience as his tall, commanding form stood proud and erect, -his mild saint-like eyes glowing with a fire that I had never seen -before. He began by endeavoring to disabuse the minds of the jury of the -very natural ill-feeling they might entertain against a slave, supposed -to have made an attack upon the life of a white man; reviewed at length -the distinctions which are believed, at the South, to exist between the -two races; and dwelt especially upon those oppressive enactments which -virtually place the life of a slave at the mercy of even the basest of -the white complexion. Passing from these general observations, he -examined, with scrutiny the prepared story of Mr. Monkton, showing it to -be a vile fabrication of defeated malice, flatly contradictory in -essential particulars, and utterly unworthy of reliance under the wise -maxim of the law, that "being false in one thing, it was false in all." -In conclusion, he made a stirring appeal to the jury, exhorting them to -rescue this feeble woman from the foul machinations which had been -invented for her ruin; to rebuke, by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> their righteous verdict, this -swift and perjured witness; and to vindicate before the world the honor -of their dear old Commonwealth, which was no less threatened by this -ignominious proceeding than the safety of his poor and innocent client.</p> - -<p>The officers of the Court could scarcely repress the applause which -succeeded this appeal.</p> - -<p>"Finally, gentlemen," resumed Mr. Trueman, "permit me to take back to my -Northern home the warm, personal testimony to your love of justice, -which, unbiased by considerations of color, is dealt out to high and -low, rich and poor, white and black, with equal and impartial hands. -Disarm, by your verdict in this instance, the reproach by which Kentucky -may hereafter be assailed when her enemies shall taunt her with -injustice and cruelty. It has long been said, at the North, that 'the -South cannot show justice to a slave.' Now, gentlemen, 'tis for you, in -the character of sworn jurors, to disprove, by your verdict, this -oft-repeated, and, alas! in too many instances, well-authenticated -charge. And I conjure you as men, as Christians, as jurors, to deal -justly, kindly, humanely with this poor uncared-for slave-woman. As you -are men and fathers, slave-holders even, show her justice, and, if need -be, mercy, as in like circumstances you would have these dispensed to -your own daughters or slaves. She is a woman, it may be an uncultured -one; this place, this Court, is strange to her. There she sits alone, -and seemingly friendless, in the dock. Where was her master? Had he -prepared or engaged an advocate? No, sir; he left her helpless and -undefended; but that God, alike the God of the Jew and the Gentile, has, -in the hour of her need, raised up for her a friend and advocate. And be -ye, Gentlemen of the Jury, also the friend of the neglected female! By -all the artlessness of her sex, she appeals to you to rescue her name -from this undeserved aspersion, and her body from the tortures of the -lash or the halter. Mark, with your strongest reprobation, that lying -accuser of the powerless, who, thwarted in the attempt to violate one -article in the Decalogue, has here, and in your presence, accomplished -the outrage of another, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span>invoking upon his soul, with unholy lips, the -maledictions with which God will sooner or later overwhelm the perjurer. -Look at him now as he cowers beneath my words. His blanched cheek and -shrivelling eye denote the detected villain. He dares not, like an -honest, truth-telling man, face the charges arrayed against him. No, -conscious guilt and wicked passion are bowing him now to the earth. Dare -he look me full in the eye? No; for he fears lest I, with a lawyer's -skill, should draw out and expose the malicious fiend that has urged him -on to the persecution of the innocent and defenceless. Send him from -your midst with the brand of severest condemnation, as an example of the -fate which awaits a false witness in the Courts of the Commonwealth of -Kentucky. Restore to this prisoner the peace of mind which has been -destroyed by this prosecution. Thus you will provide for yourselves a -source of consolation through all the future, and I shall thank heaven -with my latest breath for the chance that threw me, a stranger, in your -city to-day, and led me to this temple of justice to urge your minds to -the right conclusion."</p> - -<p>He sat down amid such thunders of applause as incurred the censure of -the judge. When order was restored, the Commonwealth's attorney rose to -close the case. He said "he could see no reason for doubting the -veracity of his witness whom the opposition had so strenuously -endeavored to impeach. For his own part, he had long known Mr. Monkton, -and had always regarded him as a man of truth. The present was the first -attempt at his impeachment that he had ever heard of; and he felt -perfectly satisfied that Mr. Monkton would survive it. Had he been the -character which his adversary had described, it might have been possible -to find some witness who could invalidate his testimony. No one, -however, has appeared; and I take it that no one exists. The gentleman -would do well to observe a little more caution before he attacks so -recklessly the reputation of a man."</p> - -<p>Mr. Trueman rising, requested the prosecutor to indulge him for one -moment.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span></p><p>"Certainly," was the reply.</p> - -<p>"I desire the jury and the Court to remember," said Mr. Trueman, "that I -made no attack upon the <i>reputation</i> of the witness in this case. -Doubtless <i>that</i> is all which it is claimed to be. I freely concede it; -but the earnest prosecutor must permit me to distinguish between -<i>reputation</i> and <i>character</i>. I did assail the character of the man, but -not hypothetically or by shrewd conjectures; 'out of his own mouth I -condemned him.' This is not the first instance of crime committed by a -man, who, up to the period of transgression, stood fair before the -world. The gentleman's own library will supply abundant proofs of the -success of strong temptation in its encounters with even <i>established -virtue</i>; and I care not if this willing witness could bolster up his -reputation with the voluntary affidavits of hosts of friends; his own -testimony, to-day, would have still produced and riveted the conviction -of his really base character. I thank the gentleman for his indulgence."</p> - -<p>The prosecutor continuing, endeavored to show that the testimony was, -upon its face, entirely credible, and ought to have its weight with the -jury. He labored hard to reconcile its many and material contradictions, -reiterated his own opinion of the witness as a man of truth; and, with -an inflammatory warning against the <i>Abolition counsel</i>, who, he said, -was perhaps now "meditating in our midst some sinister design against -the peculiar institution of the South," he ended his fiery harangue.</p> - -<p>When he had taken his seat, Mr. Trueman addressed the Court as follows:</p> - -<p>"Before the jury retire, may it please your Honor, as the case is of a -serious nature, and as we have no witness for the defence, I would ask -permission merely to repeat the version of the circumstances of this -case detailed to me by the prisoner at the bar. Such a statement, I am -aware, is not legal evidence; but if, in your clemency, you would permit -it to go to the jury simply for what it is worth, the course of justice -I am sure would by no means be impeded."</p> - -<p>The judge readily consented to this request, and Mr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> Trueman rehearsed -my story, as narrated in the foregoing pages.</p> - -<p>The Commonwealth's attorney then rejoined with a few remarks.</p> - -<p>After a retirement of a few minutes, the jury returned with a verdict of -"guilty as charged in the indictment," ordering me to receive two -hundred lashes on my bare back, not exceeding fifty at a time. I was -then remanded to jail to await the execution of my sentence.</p> - -<p>Very gloomy looked that little room to me when I returned to it, with a -horrid crime of which, Heaven knows, I was guiltless, affixed to my -name, and the prospect of a cruel punishment awaiting me. Who may tell -the silent, unexpressed agony that I there endured? Certain I am, that -the nightly stars and the old pale moon looked not down upon a more -wretched heart. There I sat, looking ever and again at the stolid Fanny, -who had been sentenced to the work-house for a limited time. Since the -death of her infant she had lost all her loquacity, and remained in a -kind of dreamy, drowsy state, between waking and sleeping.</p> - -<p>Through how many scenes of vanished days, worked the plough-share of -memory, upturning the fresh earth, where lay the buried seeds of some -few joys! And, sometimes, a sly, nestling thought of Henry hid itself -away in the most covert folds of my heart. His melancholy bronze face -had cut itself like a fine cameo, on my soul. The old, withered flowers, -which he had sent, lay carefully concealed in a corner of the cell. -Their beauty had departed like a dim dream; but a little of their -fragrance still remained despite decay.</p> - -<p>One day, after the trial, I was much honored and delighted by a visit -from no less a personage than Mr. Trueman himself.</p> - -<p>I was overcome, and had not power to speak the thanks with which my -grateful heart ran over. He kindly pitied my embarrassment, and relieved -me by saying,</p> - -<p>"Oh, I know you are thankful to me. I only wish, my good girl, that my -speech had rescued you from the punishment you have to suffer. Believe -me, I deeply pity you; and, if money<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> could avert the penalty which I -know you have not merited, I would relieve you from its infliction; but -nothing more can be done for you. You must bear your trouble bravely."</p> - -<p>"Oh, my kind, noble friend!" I passionately exclaimed, "words like these -would arm me with strength to brave a punishment ten times more severe -than the one that awaits me. Sympathy from you can repay me for any -suffering. That a noble white gentleman, of distinguished talents, -should stoop from his lofty position to espouse the cause of a poor -mulatto, is to me as pleasing as it is strange."</p> - -<p>"Alas, my good girl, you and all of your wronged and injured race are -objects of interest and affection to me. I would that I could give you -something more available than sympathy: but these Southerners are a -knotty people; their prejudices of caste and color grow out, unsightly -and disgusting, like the rude excrescences upon a noble tree, eating it -away, and sucking up its vital sap. These Western people are of a noble -nature, were it not for their sectional blemishes. I never relied upon -the many statements which I have heard at the North, taking them as -natural exaggerations; but my sojourn here has proved them to be true."</p> - -<p>I then told him of the discussion that I had overheard between him and -Mr. Winston.</p> - -<p>"Did you hear that?" he asked with a smile. "Winston has been very cool -toward me ever since; yet he is a man with some fine points of -character, and considerable mental cultivation. This one Southern -feeling, or rather prejudice, however, has well-nigh corrupted him. He -is too fiery and irritable to argue; but all Southerners are so. They -cannot allow themselves to discuss these matters. Witness, for instance, -the conduct of their Congressional debaters. Do they reason? Whenever a -matter is reduced to argumentation, the Southerner flies off at a -tangent, resents everything as personal, descends to abuse, and thus -closes the debate."</p> - -<p>I ventured to ask him some questions in relation to Fred Douglas; to all -of which he returned satisfactory answers. He informed me that Douglas -had once been a slave; that he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> was now a man of social position; of -very decided talent and energy. "I know of no man," continued Mr. -Trueman, "who is more deserving of public trust than Douglas. He -conducts himself with extreme modesty and propriety, and a quiet dignity -that inclines the most fastidious in his favor."</p> - -<p>He then cited the case of Miss Greenfield (<i>the</i> black swan), showing -that my race was susceptible of cultivation and refinement in a high -degree.</p> - -<p>Thus inspired, I poured forth my full soul to him. I told him how, in -secret, I had studied; how diligently I had searched after knowledge; -how I longed for the opportunity to improve my poor talents. I spoke -freely, and with a degree of nervous enthusiasm that seemed to affect -him.</p> - -<p>"Ann," he said, and large tears stood in his eyes, "it is a shame for -you to be kept in bondage. A proud, aspiring soul like yours, if once -free to follow its impulses, might achieve much. Can you not labor to -buy yourself? At odd times do extra work, and, by your savings, you may, -in the course of years, be enabled to buy yourself."</p> - -<p>"My dear sir, I've no 'odd times' for extra work, or I would gladly -avail myself of them. Lazy I am not; but my mistress requires all my -time and labor. If she were to discover that I was working, even at -night for myself, she would punish me severely."</p> - -<p>I said this in a mournful tone; for I felt that despair was my portion. -He was silent for awhile; then said,</p> - -<p>"Well, you must do the best you can. I would that I could advise you; -but now I must leave. A longer stay would excite suspicion. You heard -what they said the other day about Abolitionists."</p> - -<p>I remembered it well, and was distressed to think that he had been -abused on my account.</p> - -<p>With many kind words he took his leave, and I felt as if the sunshine -had suddenly been extinguished.</p> - -<p>During his entire visit poor Fanny had slept. She lay like one in an -opium trance. For hours after his departure she remained so, and much -time was left me for reflection.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXXII.</h2> - -<p class="center">EXECUTION OF THE SENTENCE—A CHANGE—HOPE.</p> - -<p>On the last and concluding day of the term of the court, the jailer -signified to me that the constable would, on the morrow, administer the -first fifty lashes; and, of course, I passed the night in great -trepidation.</p> - -<p>But the morning came bright and clear, and the jailer, accompanied by -Constable Calcraft, entered.</p> - -<p>"Come, girl," said the latter, "I have to execute the sentence upon -you."</p> - -<p>Without one word, I followed him into the jail yard.</p> - -<p>"Strip yourself to the waist," said the constable.</p> - -<p>I dared not hesitate, though feminine delicacy was rudely shocked. With -a prayer to heaven for fortitude, I obeyed.</p> - -<p>Then, with a strong cowhide, he inflicted fifty lashes (the first -instalment of the sentence) upon my bare back; each lacerating it to the -bone. I was afterwards compelled to put my clothes on over my raw, -bloody back, without being allowed to wash away the clotted gore; for, -upon asking for water to cleanse myself, I was harshly refused, and -quickly re-conducted to the cell, where, wounded, mortified, and -anguish-stricken, I was left to myself.</p> - -<p>Oh, God of the world-forgotten Africa! Thou dost see these things; Thou -dost hear the cries which daily and nightly we are sending up to Thee! -On that lonely, wretched night Thou wert with me, and my prison became -as a radiant mansion, for angels cheered me there! Glory to God for the -cross which He sent me; for it led me on to Him.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span></p><p>Poor Fanny, after her sentence was pronounced, was soon sent to the -work-house; so I was alone. The little Testament which Louise had given -me, was all the company that I desired. Its rich and varied words were -as manna to my hungry soul; and its blessed promises rescued me from a -dreadful bankruptcy of faith.</p> - -<p>Subsequently, and at three different times, I was led forth to receive -the remainder of my punishment.</p> - -<p>After the last portion was given, I was allowed to go to the kitchen of -the jail and wash myself and dress in some clean clothes, which Miss -Jane had sent me. I was then conducted by the constable to the hotel.</p> - -<p>Miss Jane met me very distantly, saying—</p> - -<p>"I trust you are somewhat humbled, Ann, and will in future be a better -nigger."</p> - -<p>I was in but a poor mood to take rebukes and reproaches; for my flesh -was perfectly raw, the intervals between the whippings having been so -short as not to allow the gashes even to close; so that upon this, the -final day, my back presented one mass of filth and clotted gore. I was -then, as may be supposed, in a very irritable humor, but a slave is not -allowed to have feeling. It is a privilege denied him, because his skin -is black.</p> - -<p>I did not go out of Miss Jane's room, except on matters of business, -about which she sent me. I would, then, go slipping around, afraid of -meeting Henry. I did not wish him to see me in that mutilated condition. -I saw Louise in Miss Jane's room; but there she merely nodded to me. -Subsequently we met in a retired part of the hall, and there she -expressed that generous and friendly sympathy which I knew she so warmly -cherished for me.</p> - -<p>Somehow or other she had contrived to insinuate herself wondrously into -Miss Jane's good graces; and all her influence she endeavored to use in -my favor.</p> - -<p>In this private interview she told me that she would induce<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> Miss Jane -to let me sleep in her room; and she thought she knew what key to take -her on.</p> - -<p>"If," added she, "I get you to my apartment, I will care for you well. I -will wash and dress your wounds, and render you every attention in my -power."</p> - -<p>I watched, with admiration, her tactics in managing Miss Jane. That -evening when I was seated in an obscure corner of the room, Miss Jane -was lolling in a large arm-chair, playing with a bouquet that had been -sent her by a gentleman. This bouquet had been delivered to her, as I -afterwards learned, by Louise. Miss Jane had grown to be fashionable -indeed; and had two favorite beaux, with whom she interchanged notes, -and Louise had been selected as a messenger.</p> - -<p>On this occasion, the wily mulatto came up to her, rather familiarly, I -thought, and said—</p> - -<p>"Ah, you are amusing yourself with the Captain's flowers! I must tell -him of it. Dear sakes! but it will please him;" she then whispered -something to her, at which both of them laughed heartily.</p> - -<p>After this Miss Jane was in a very decided good humor, and Louise fussed -about the apartment pretty much as she pleased. At length, throwing open -the window, she cried out—</p> - -<p>"How close the air is here! Why, Mrs. St. Lucian, the fashionable, -dashing lady who occupied this room just before you, Mrs. Somerville, -wouldn't allow three persons to be in it at a time; and her servant-girl -always slept in my room. By the way, that just reminds me how impolite -I've been to you; do excuse me, and I will be glad to relieve you by -letting Ann go to my room of nights."</p> - -<p>"Oh, it will trouble you, Louise."</p> - -<p>"Don't talk or think of troubling me; but come along girl," she said, -turning to me.</p> - -<p>"Go with Louise, Ann," added Miss Jane, as she perceived me hesitate, -"but come early in the morning to get me ready for breakfast."</p> - -<p>Happy even for so small a favor as this, I followed Louise<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> to her room. -There I found everything very comfortable and neat. A nice, downy bed, -with its snowy covering; a bright-colored carpet, a little bureau, -washstand, clock, rocking-chair, and one or two pictures, with a few -crocks of flowers, completed the tasteful furniture of this apartment.</p> - -<p>All this, I inly said, is the arrangement and taste of a mulatto in the -full enjoyment of her freedom! Do not her thrift and industry disprove -the oft-repeated charge of indolence that is made upon the negro race?</p> - -<p>She seemed to read my thoughts, and remarked, "You are surprised, Ann, -to see my room so nice! I read the wonder in your face. I have marked it -before, in the countenances of slaves. They are taught, from their -infancy up, to regard themselves as unfit for the blessings of free, -civilized life; and I am happy to give the lie, by my own manner of -living, to this rude charge."</p> - -<p>"How long have you been free, Louise, and how did you obtain your -freedom?"</p> - -<p>"It is a long story," she answered; "you must be inclined to sleep; you -need rest. At some other time I'll tell you. Here, take this arm-chair, -it is soft; and your back is wounded and sore; I am going to dress it -for you."</p> - -<p>So saying, she left the room, but quickly returned with a basin of warm -water and a little canteen of grease. She very kindly bade me remove my -dress, then gently, with a soft linten-rag, washed my back, greased it, -and made me put on one of her linen chemises and a nice gown, and giving -me a stimulant, bade me rest myself for the night upon her bed, which -was clean, white, and tempting.</p> - -<p>When she thought I was soundly sleeping, she removed from a little -swinging book-shelf a well-worn Bible. After reading a chapter or so, -she sank upon her knees in prayer! There may be those who would laugh -and scoff at the piety of this woman, because of her tawny complexion; -but the Great Judge, to whose ear alone her supplication was made, -disregards all such<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> distinctions. Her soul was as precious to Him, as -though her complexion had been of the most spotless snow.</p> - -<p>On the following morning, whilst I was arranging Miss Jane's toilette, -she said to me, in rather a kind tone:</p> - -<p>"Ann, Mr. Summerville wants to sell you, and purchase a smaller and -cheaper girl for me. Now, if you behave yourself well, I'll allow you to -choose your own home."</p> - -<p>This was more kindness than I expected to receive from her, and I -thanked her heartily.</p> - -<p>All that day my heart was dreaming of a new home—perhaps a kind, good -one! On the gallery I met Mr. Trueman (I love to write his name). -Rushing eagerly up to him, I offered my hand, all oblivious of the wide -chasm that the difference of race had placed between us; but, if that -thought had occurred to me, his benignant smile would have put it to -flight. Ah, he was the true reformer, who illustrated, in his own -deportment, the much talked-of theory of human brotherhood! He, with all -his learning, his native talent, his social position and legal -prominence, could condescend to speak in a familiar spirit to the -lowliest slave, and this made me, soured to harshness, feel at ease in -his presence.</p> - -<p>I told him that I was fast recovering from the effects of my whipping. I -spoke of Louise's kindness, &c.</p> - -<p>"I am to be sold, Mr. Trueman; I wish that you would buy me."</p> - -<p>"My good girl, if I had the means I would not hesitate to make the -purchase, and instantly draw up your free papers; but I am, at the -present, laboring under great pecuniary embarrassments, which deny me -the right of exercising that generosity which my heart prompts in this -case."</p> - -<p>I thanked him, over and over again, for his kindness. I felt not a -little distressed when he told me that he should leave for Boston early -on the following day. In bidding me adieu, he slipped, very modestly, -into my hand a ten-dollar bill, but this I could not accept from one to -whom I was already heavily indebted.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span></p><p>"No, my good friend, I cannot trespass so much upon you. Already I am -largely your debtor. Take back this money." I offered him the bill, but -his face colored deeply, as he replied:</p> - -<p>"No, Ann, you would not wound my feelings, I am sure."</p> - -<p>"Not for my freedom," I earnestly answered.</p> - -<p>"Then accept this trifling gift. Let it be among the first of your -savings, as my contribution, toward the purchase-money for your -freedom." Seeing that I hesitated, he said, "if you persist in refusing, -you will offend me."</p> - -<p>"Anything but that," I eagerly cried, as I took the money from that -blessed, charity-dispensing hand.</p> - -<p>And this was the last I saw of him for many years; and, when we again -met, the shadow of deeper sorrows was resting on my brow.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * *</p> - -<p>Several weeks had elapsed since Miss Jane's announcement that I was to -be sold, and I had heard no more of it. I dared not renew the subject to -her, no matter from what motive, for she would have construed it as -impudence. But my time was now passing in comparative pleasure, for Miss -Jane was wholly engrossed by fun, frolic, and dissipation. Her mornings -were spent in making or receiving fashionable calls, and her afternoons -were devoted to sleep, whilst the night-time was given up entirely to -theatres, parties, concerts, and such amusements. Consequently my -situation, as servant, became pretty much that of a sinecure. Oh, what -delightful hours I passed in Louise's room, reading! I devoured -everything in the shape of a book that fell into my hands. I began to -improve astonishingly in my studies. It seemed that knowledge came to me -by magic. I was surprised at the rapidity of my own advancement. In the -afternoons, Henry had a good deal of leisure, and he used to steal round -to Louise's room, and sit with us upon a little balcony that fronted it, -and looked out upon a beautiful view. There lay the placid Ohio, and -just beyond it ran the blessed Indiana shore! "Why was I not born on -that side of the river?" I used to say to Henry, as I pointed across the -water.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> "Or why," he would answer, as his dark eye grew intensely black, -"were our ancestors ever stolen from Africa?"</p> - -<p>"These are questions," said the more philosophical Louise, "that we must -not propose. They destroy the little happiness we already enjoy."</p> - -<p>"Yes, you can afford to talk thus, Louise, for you are free; but we, -poor slaves, know slavery from actual experience and endurance," said -Henry.</p> - -<p>"I have had my experience too," she answered, "and a dark one has it -been."</p> - -<p>The evening on which this conversation occurred, was unusually fair and -calm. I shall ever remember it. There we three sat, with mournful -memories working in our breasts; there each looking at the other, -murmuring secretly, "Mine is the heaviest trouble!"</p> - -<p>"Louise," I said, "tell us how you broke the chains of bondage."</p> - -<p>"I was," said she, after a moment's pause, "a slave to a family of -wealth, residing a few miles from New Orleans. I am, as you see, but -one-third African. My mother was a bright mulatto. My father a white -gentleman, the brother of my mistress. Louis De Calmo was his name. My -mother was a housemaid, and only fifteen years of age at my birth. She -was of a meek, quiet disposition, and bore with patience all her -mistress' reproaches and harshness; but, when alone with my father, she -urged him to buy me, and he promised her he would; still he put her off -from time to time. She often said to him that for herself she did not -care; but, for me, she was all anxiety. She could not bear the idea of -her child remaining in slavery. All her bright hopes for me were -suddenly brought to a close by my father's unexpected death. He was -killed by the explosion of a steamboat on the lower Mississippi, and his -horribly-mangled body brought home to be buried. My mother loved him; -and, in her grief for his death, she had a double cause for sorrow. By -it her child was debarred the privilege of freedom. I was but nine years -of age at the time, but I well<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> remember her wild lamentation. Often she -would catch me to her heart, and cry out, 'if you could only die I -should be so happy;' but I did not. I lived on and grew rapidly. We had -a very kind overseer, and his son took a great fancy to me. He taught me -to read and write. I was remarkably quick. When I was but fifteen, I -recollect mistress fancied, from my likely appearance and my delicate, -gliding movements, that she would make a dining-room servant of me. I -was taken into the house, and thus deprived of the instructions which -the overseer's son had so faithfully rendered me. I have often read half -of the night. Now I approach a melancholy part of my story. Master -becoming embarrassed in his business, he must part with some of his -property. Of course the slaves went. My mother was numbered among the -lot. I longed and begged to be sold with her; but to this mistress would -not consent,—she considered me too valuable as a house-girl. Well, -mother and I parted. None can ever know my wretchedness, unless they -have suffered a similar grief, when I saw her borne weeping and -screaming away from me. I have never heard from her since. Where she -went or into whose hands she fell, I never knew. She was sold to the -highest bidder, under the auctioneer's hammer, in the New Orleans -market. I lived on as best I could, bearing an aching heart, whipped for -every little offence, serving, as a bond-woman, her who was, by nature -and blood, <i>my Aunt</i>. After a year or so I was sold to James Canfield, a -bachelor gentleman in New Orleans, and I lived with him, as a wife, for -a number of years. I had several beautiful children, though none lived -to be more than a few months old. At the death of this man I was set -free by his will, and three hundred dollars were bequeathed me by him. I -had saved a good deal of money during his life-time, and this, with his -legacy, made me independent. I remained in the South but a short time. -For two years after his death I sojourned in the North, sometimes hiring -myself out as chambermaid, and at others living quietly on my means; but -I must work. In activity I stifle memory, and for awhile am happy, or, -at least, tranquil."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span></p><p>After this synopsis of her history, Louise was silent. She bent her -head upon her hand, and mused abstractedly.</p> - -<p>"I think, Henry, you are a slave," I said, as I turned my eye upon his -mournful face.</p> - -<p>"Yes, and to a hard master," was the quick reply; "but he has promised -me I shall buy myself. I am to pay him one thousand dollars, in -instalments of one hundred dollars each. Three of these instalments I -have already paid."</p> - -<p>"Does he receive any hire for your services at this hotel?"</p> - -<p>"Oh yes, the proprietor pays him one hundred and fifty dollars a year -for me."</p> - -<p>"How have you made the money?"</p> - -<p>"By working at night and on holidays, going on errands, and doing little -jobs for gentlemen boarding in the house. Sometimes I get little -donations from kind-hearted persons, Christmas gifts in money, &c. All -of it is saved."</p> - -<p>"You must work very hard."</p> - -<p>"Oh yes, it's very little sleep I ever get. How old would you think me?"</p> - -<p>"Thirty-five," I answered, as I looked at his furrowed face.</p> - -<p>"That is what almost every one says; yet I am only twenty-five. All -these wrinkles and hard spots are from work."</p> - -<p>"You ought to rest awhile," I ventured to suggest.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I'll wait until I am my own master; then I'll rest."</p> - -<p>"But you may die before that time comes."</p> - -<p>"So I may, so I may," he repeated despondingly. "All my family have died -early and from over-work. Sometimes I think freedom too great a blessing -for me ever to realize."</p> - -<p>He brushed a tear from his eye with the back of his hand. I looked at -him, so young and energetic, yet lonely. Noble and handsome was his -face, despite the lines of care and labor. What wonder that a soft -feeling took possession of my heart, particularly when I remembered how -he had gladdened my imprisonment with kind messages and the gift of -flowers. I did but follow an irrepressible and spontaneous impulse, when -I said with earnestness,</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span></p><p>"Do not work so hard, Henry."</p> - -<p>He looked me full in the face. Why did my eye droop beneath that warm, -inquiring gaze; and why did he ask so low, in a half whisper:</p> - -<p>"Should I die who will grieve for me?"</p> - -<p>And did not my uplifted glance tell him who would? We understood each -other. Our hearts had spoken, and what followed may easily be guessed. -Evening after evening we met upon that balcony to pledge our souls in -earnest vows. Henry's eye grew brighter; he worked the harder; but his -pile of money did not increase as it had done. Many a little present to -me, many a rare nosegay, that was purchased at a price he was not able -to afford, put off to a greater distance his day of freedom. Like a -green, luxuriant spot in the wide desert of a lonely life, seems to me -the memory of those hours. On Sunday evenings, when his labor was over, -which was generally about eight o'clock, we walked through the city, and -on moonlight nights we strayed upon the banks of the Ohio, and planned -for the future.</p> - -<p>Henry was to buy himself, then go North, and labor in some hotel, or at -whatever business he could make the most money; then he would return to -buy me. This was one of our plans; but as often as we talked, we made a -new one.</p> - -<p>"Oh, we shall be so happy, Ann," he would exclaim.</p> - -<p>Then I would repeat the often-asked question, "Where shall we live?"</p> - -<p>Sometimes we decided upon New York city; then a village in the State of -New York; but I think Henry's preference was a Canadian town. Idle -speculators that we were, we seldom adhered long to our preference for -any one spot!</p> - -<p>"At least, dear," he used to say, in his encouraging way, "we will hunt -a home; and, no matter where we find it, we can make it a happy one if -we are together."</p> - -<p>And to this my heart gave a warm echo. I was beginning to be happy; for -imagination painted joys in the future, and the present was not all -mournful, for Henry was with me!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> The same roof covered us. Twenty times -a-day I met him in the dining-room, hall, or in the lobby, and he was -always with me in the evening.</p> - -<p>Slaves as we were, I've often thought as we wandered beneath the golden -light of the stars, that, for the time being, we were as happy as -mortals could be. Young first-love knit the air in a charmed silver mist -around us; and, hand in hand, we trod the wave-washed shore, always with -our eyes turned toward the North, the bourne whither all our thoughts -inclined.</p> - -<p>"Does not the north star point us to our future home?" Henry frequently -asked. I love to recall this one sunny epoch in my life. For months, not -an unpleasant thing occurred.</p> - -<p>Immediately after my trial, Monkton left the city, and went, as I -understood, south. Miss Jane was busied with fashion and gayety. Mr. -Summerville was engaged at his business, and every one whom I saw was -kind to me. So I may record the fact that for a while I was happy!</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXXIII.</h2> - -<p class="center">SOLD—LIFE AS A SLAVE—PEN—CHARLES' STORY—UNCLE PETER'S TROUBLE—A -STAR PEEPING FORTH FROM THE CLOUD.</p> - -<p>Whilst the hours thus rosily slided away, and I dreamed amid the verdure -of existence, the syren charmed me wisely, indeed, with her beautiful -promises. Poor, simple-hearted, trusting slaves! We could not see upon -what a rocking bridge our feet were resting, how slippery and -unsubstantial was the flowery declivity whereon we stood. There we -reposed in the gentle light of a happy trance; we saw not the clouds, -dark and tempest-charged, that were rising rapidly to hide the stars -from our view.</p> - -<p>One Sunday afternoon, Henry having finished his work much earlier than -usual, and done some little act whereby the good will of his temporary -master (the keeper of the hotel) was propitiated, and Miss Jane and Mr. -Summerville having gone out, I willingly consented to his proposal to -take a walk. We accordingly wandered off to a beautiful wood, just -without the city limits, a very popular resort with the negroes and -poorer classes, though it was the only pretty green woodland near the -city. Yet, because the "common people and negroes" (a Kentucky phrase) -went there, it was voted vulgar, and avoided by the rich and refined. -One blessing was thus given to the poor!</p> - -<p>Henry and I sought a retired part of the grove, and, seating ourselves -on an old, moss-grown log, we talked with as much hope, and indulged in -as rosy dreams, as happier and lordlier lovers. For three bright hours -we remained idly rambling through the flower-realm of imagination; but, -as the long shadows began to fall among the leaves, we prepared to -return home.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span></p><p>That night when I assisted Miss Jane in getting ready for bed, I -observed that she was unusually gloomy and petulant. I could do nothing -to please her; she boxed my ears repeatedly; stuck pins in me, called me -"detestable nigger," &c. Even the presence of Louise failed to restrain -her, and I knew that something awful had happened.</p> - -<p>For two or three days this cloud that hung about her deepened and -darkened, until she absolutely became unendurable. I often found her -eyes red and swollen, as though she had spent the entire night in -weeping.</p> - -<p>Mr. Summerville was gloomy and morose, never saying much, and always -speaking harshly to his wife.</p> - -<p>At length the explosion came. One morning he said to me, "gather up your -clothes, Ann, and come with me; I have sold you."</p> - -<p>Though I was stricken as by a thunderbolt, I dared not express my -surprise, or even ask who had bought me. All that I ventured to say was,</p> - -<p>"Master William, I have a trunk."</p> - -<p>"Well, shoulder it yourself. I'm not going to pay for having it taken."</p> - -<p>Though my heart was wrung I said nothing, and, lifting up my trunk, -beneath the weight of which I nearly sank, I followed Master William out -of the house.</p> - -<p>"Good-bye, Miss Jane," I said.</p> - -<p>"Good-bye, and be a good girl," she replied, kindly, and my heart almost -softened toward her; for in that moment I felt as if deserted by every -faculty.</p> - -<p>"Come on, Ann, come on," urged Master William; and I mechanically -obeyed.</p> - -<p>In the cross-hall I met Louise, who exclaimed, "Why, Ann, where are you -going?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know, Louise, I'm sold."</p> - -<p>"Sold! Who's bought you?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know—Master William didn't tell me."</p> - -<p>"Who's bought her, Mr. Summerville?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span></p><p>"The man to whom I sold her," he answered, with a laugh.</p> - -<p>"But who is he?" persisted Louise, without noticing the joke.</p> - -<p>"Well, Atkins, a negro-trader down here, on Second street."</p> - -<p>"Good gracious!" she cried out; then, turning to me, said, "does Henry -know it?"</p> - -<p>"I have not seen him." She darted off from us, and we walked on. I hoped -that she would not see Henry, for I could not bear to meet him. It would -dispossess me of the little forced composure that I had; but, alas! for -the fulfilment of my hopes! in the lower hall, with a countenance full -of terror, he stood.</p> - -<p>"What are you going to do with Ann, Mr. Summerville?" he inquired.</p> - -<p>"I have sold her to Atkins, and am now taking her to the pen."</p> - -<p>Alas! though his life, his blood, his soul cried out against it, he -dared not offer any objection or entreaty; but oh, that hopeless look of -brokenness of heart! I see it now, and "it comes over me like the raven -o'er the infected house."</p> - -<p>"I'll take your trunk round for you, Ann, to-night. It is too heavy for -you," and so saying, he kindly removed it from my shoulder. This little -act of kindness was the added drop to the already full glass, and my -heart overflowed. I wept heartily. His tender, "don't cry, Ann," only -made me weep the more; and when I looked up and saw his own eyes full of -tears, and his lip quivering with the unspoken pang, I felt (for the -slave at least) how wretched a possession is life!</p> - -<p>Master William cut short this parting interview, by saying,</p> - -<p>"Never mind that trunk, Henry, Ann can carry it very well."</p> - -<p>And, as I was about to re-shoulder it, Henry said,</p> - -<p>"No, Ann, you mustn't carry it. I'll do it for you to-night, when my -work is over. She is a woman, Mr. Summerville, and it's heavy for her; -but it will not be anything for me."</p> - -<p>"Well, if you have a mind to, you may do it; but I haven't any time to -parley now, come on."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span></p><p>Henry pressed my hand affectionately, and I saw the tears roll in a -stream down his bronzed cheeks. I did not trust myself to speak; I -merely returned the pressure of his hand, and silently followed Master -William.</p> - -<p>Through the streets, up one and across another, we went, until suddenly -we stopped in front of a two-story brick house with an iron fence in -front. Covering a small portion of the front view of the main building, -an office had been erected, a plain, uncarpeted room, from the door of -which projected a sheet-iron sign, advertising to the passers-by, -"negroes bought and sold here." We walked into this room, and upon the -table found a small bell, which Mr. Summerville rang. In answer to this, -a neatly-dressed negro boy appeared. To Master William's interrogatory, -"Is Mr. Atkins in?" he answered, most obsequiously, that he was, and -instantly withdrew. In a few moments the door opened, and a heavy man -about five feet ten inches entered. He was of a most forbidding -appearance; a tan-colored complexion, with very black hair and whiskers, -and mean, watery, milky, diseased-looking eyes. He limped as he walked, -one leg being shorter than the other, and carried a huge stick to assist -his ambulations.</p> - -<p>"Good morning, Mr. Atkins."</p> - -<p>"Good morning, sir."</p> - -<p>"Here is the girl we were speaking of yesterday."</p> - -<p>"Well," replied the other, as he removed a lighted cigar from his mouth, -"she is likely enough. Take off yer bonnet, girl, let me look at yer -eyes. They are good; open your mouth—no decayed teeth—all sound; hold -up your 'coat, legs are good, some marks on 'em—now the back—pretty -much and badly scarred. Well, what's the damage?"</p> - -<p>"Seven hundred, cash down. You can recommend her as a first-rate house -and lady's maid."</p> - -<p>"What's your name, girl?"</p> - -<p>"Ann," I replied.</p> - -<p>"Ann, go within," he added, pointing to the door through which he had -entered.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span></p><p>I turned to Mr. Summerville, saying,</p> - -<p>"Good-bye, Master William. I wish you well."</p> - -<p>"Good-bye, Ann," and he extended his hand to me; "I hope Mr. Atkins will -get you a good home."</p> - -<p>Dropping a courtesy and a tear, I passed through the door designated by -Mr. Atkins, and stood within the pen. Here I was met by the mulatto who -had answered the bell.</p> - -<p>"Has you bin bought, Miss?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, Mr. Atkins just bought me."</p> - -<p>"Why did your Masser sell you?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know."</p> - -<p>"Oh, that's what the most of 'em says. It 'pears so quare ter me for a -Masser to sell good sarvants; but I guess you'll soon git a home; fur -you is 'bout the likeliest yaller gal I ever seed. Now, thim rale black -'uns hardly ever goes off here. We has to send 'em down river, or let -'em go at a mighty low price."</p> - -<p>"How often do you have sales?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, we don't have 'em at all. That's we don't have public 'uns. We -sells 'em privately like; but we buys up more; and when we gits a large -number, we ships 'em down de river."</p> - -<p>Wishing to cut short his garrulity, I asked him to show me the room -where I was to stay.</p> - -<p>"In here, wid de rest of 'em," he said, as he opened the door of a large -shed-room, where I found some ten or twelve negroes, women and men, -ranged round on stools and chairs, all neatly dressed, some of them -looking very happy, others with down-cast, sorrow-stricken countenances.</p> - -<p>One bright, gold-colored man, with long, silky black hair, and raven -eyes, full of subdued power, stood leaning his elbow against the mantel. -His melancholy face and pensive attitude struck a responsive feeling, -and I turned with a sisterly sentiment toward him.</p> - -<p>I have always been of a taciturn disposition, shunning company; but this -man impressed me so favorably, he seemed the very counterpart of myself, -that I forgot my usual <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span>reserve, and, after a few moments' investigation -of my companions, the faces of most of whom were unpleasant to me, I -approached him and inquired—</p> - -<p>"Have you been long here?"</p> - -<p>"Only a few days," he answered, as he lifted his mournful eyes towards -mine, and I could see from their misty light, that they were dimmed by -tears.</p> - -<p>"Are you sold?" I asked.</p> - -<p>"Oh yes," and he shuddered terribly.</p> - -<p>I did not venture to say more; but stood looking at him, when, suddenly -he turned to me, saying,</p> - -<p>"I know that you are sold."</p> - -<p>"Yes," I replied, with that strong sort of courage that characterized -me.</p> - -<p>"You take it calmly," he said; "have you no friends?"</p> - -<p>"You do not talk like one familiar with slavery, to speak of a slave's -having friends."</p> - -<p>"True, true; but I have—oh, God!—a wife and children, and from them I -was cruelly torn, and—and—and I saw my poor wife knocked flat upon the -floor, and because I had the manhood to say that it was wrong, they tied -me up and slashed me. All this is right, because my skin is darker than -theirs."</p> - -<p>What a fearful groan he gave, as he struck his breast violently.</p> - -<p>"The bitterness of all this I too have tasted, and my only wonder is, -that I can live on. My heart will not break."</p> - -<p>"Mine has long since broken; but this body will not die. My poor -children! I would that they were dead with their poor slave-mother."</p> - -<p>"Why did your master sell you?"</p> - -<p>"Because he wanted <i>to buy a piano for his daughter</i>," and his lip -curled.</p> - -<p>To gratify the taste of <i>his</i> child, that white man had separated a -father from his children, had recklessly sundered the holiest ties, and -broken the most solemn and loving domestic attachments; and to such -heathenism the public gave its hearty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> approval, because his complexion -was a shade or so darker than Caucasians. Oh, Church of Christ! where is -thy warning voice? Is not this a matter, upon the injustice of which thy -great voice should pronounce a malison?</p> - -<p>"My name is Charles, what is yours?"</p> - -<p>"Ann."</p> - -<p>"Well, Ann," he resumed, "I like your face; you are the only one I've -seen in this pen that I was willing to talk with. You have just come. -Tell me why were you sold?"</p> - -<p>In a few concise words I told him my story. He seemed touched with -sympathy.</p> - -<p>"Poor girl!" he murmured, "like all the rest of our tribe, you have -tasted of trouble."</p> - -<p>I talked with him all the morning, and we both, I think, learned what a -relief it is to unclose the burdened heart to a congenial, listening -spirit.</p> - -<p>When we were summoned out to our dinner, I found a very bountiful and -pretty good meal served up. It is the policy of the trader to feed the -slaves well; for, as Mr. Atkins said, "the fat, oily, smooth, cheerful -ones, always sold the best;" and, as this business is purely a -speculation, they do everything, even humane things, for the furtherance -of their mercenary designs. I had not much appetite, neither had -Charles, as was remarked by some of the coarser and more abject of our -companions; and I was pained to observe their numerous significant winks -and blinks. One of them, the old gray mouse of the company, an ancient -"Uncle Ned," who had taken it pretty roughly all his days, and who being -of the lower order of Epicureans, was, perhaps, happier at the pen than -he had ever been. And this fellow, looking at me and Charley, said,</p> - -<p>"They's in lub;" ha! ha! ha! went round the circle. I noticed Charley's -brows knitting severely. I read his thoughts. I knew that he was -thinking of his poor wife and of his fatherless children, and inwardly -swearing unfaltering devotion to them.</p> - -<p>Persuasively I said to him, "Don't mind them. They are scarcely -accountable."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span></p><p>"I know it, I know it," he bitterly replied, "but I little thought I -should ever come to this. Sold to a negro-trader, and locked up in a pen -with such a set! I've always had pride; tried to behave myself well, and -to make money for my master, and now to be sold to a trader, away from -my wife and children!" He shook his head and burst into tears. I felt -that I had no words to console him, and I ventured to offer none.</p> - -<p>I managed, by aid of conversation with Charley, to pass the day -tolerably. There may be those of my readers who will ask how this could -be. But let them remember that I had never been the pampered pet, the -child of indulgence; but that I was born to the ignominious heritage of -American slavery. My feelings had been daily, almost hourly, outraged. -This evil had not fallen on me as the <i>first</i> misfortune, but as one of -a series of linked troubles "long drawn out." So I was comparatively -fitted for endurance, though by no means stoical; for a certain -constitutional softness of temperament rendered me always susceptible of -anguish to a very high degree. At length evening drew on—the beautiful -twilight that was written down so pleasantly in my memory; the time that -had always heralded my re-union with Henry. Now, instead of a sweet -starlight or moonlight stroll, I must betake myself to a narrow, -"cribbed, cabined, and confined" apartment, through which no truant ray -or beam could force an entrance! How my soul sickened over the -recollections of lovelier hours! Whilst I moodily sat in one corner of -the room, hugging to my soul the thought of him from whom I was now -forever parted, a sound broke on my ear, a sound—a music-sound, that -made my nerves thrill and my blood tingle; 'twas the sound of Henry's -voice. I heard him ask—</p> - -<p>"Where is she? let me speak to her but a single word;" and how that -mellow voice trembled with the burden of painful emotion! Eagerly I -sprang forward; reserve and maidenly coyness all forgotten. My only wish -was to lay my weary head upon that brave, protecting breast—weep, ay, -and die there! "Oh, for a swift death," I frantically cried, as I felt -his arms<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> about me, while my head was pillowed just above his warm and -loving heart. I felt its manly pulsations as with a soft lullaby they -seemed hushing me to the deep, eternal sleep, which I so ardently -craved! Better, a thousand times, for death to part us, than the white -man's cruelty! So we both thought. I read his secret wish in the -hopeless, vacant, but still so agonized look, that he bent upon me. For -one moment, the other slaves huddled together in blank amazement. This -was to them "a show," as "uncle Ned" subsequently styled it.</p> - -<p>"I've brought your trunk, Ann; Mr. Atkins ordered me to leave it -without; though you'll get it."</p> - -<p>"Thank you, Henry; it is of small account to me now: yet there are in it -some few of your gifts that I shall always value."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Ann, don't, pray don't talk so mournfully! Is there no hope? Can't -you be sold somewhere in the city? I have got about fifty dollars now in -money. I'd stop buying myself, and buy you; make my instalments in -fifties or hundreds, as I could raise it; but I spoke to a lawyer about -it, and he read the law to me, showing that I, as a slave, couldn't be -allowed to hold property; and there is no white man in whom I have -sufficient confidence, or who would be willing to accommodate me in this -way. Mine is a deplorable case; but I'm going to see what can be done. -I'll look about among the citizens, to see if some of them will not buy -you; for I cannot be separated from you. It will kill me; it will, it -will!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, don't, Henry, don't! for myself I can stand much; but when I think -of <i>you</i>."</p> - -<p>He caught me passionately to his breast; and, in that embrace, he seemed -to say, "<i>They shall not part us!</i>"</p> - -<p>He seated himself on a low stool beside me, with one of my hands clasped -in his, and thus, with his tender eyes bent upon me, such is the -illusion of love, I forgot the terror by which I was surrounded, and -yielded myself to a fascination as absorbing as that which encircled me -in the grove on that memorable Sunday evening.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span></p><p>"Why, Henry, is this you?" and a strong hand was laid upon his -shoulder. Looking up, I beheld Charley.</p> - -<p>"And is this you, Charles Allen?" asked the other.</p> - -<p>"<i>Yes, this is me.</i> I dare say you scarcely expected to find me here, -where I never thought I should be."</p> - -<p>At this I was reminded of the significant ejaculation that Ophelia makes -in her madness, "Lord, we know what we are, but we know not what we may -be!"</p> - -<p>"I am sold, Henry," continued Charles, "sold away from my poor wife and -children;" his voice faltered and the big tears rolled down his cheeks.</p> - -<p>"I see from your manner toward Ann, that she is or was expected to be -your wife."</p> - -<p>"Yes, she was pledged to be."</p> - -<p>"<i>Yes, and is</i>," I added with fervor. At this, Henry only pressed my -hand tightly.</p> - -<p>"Yet," pursued Charles, "she is taken from you."</p> - -<p>"<i>She is</i>," was the brief and bitter reply.</p> - -<p>"Now, Henry Graham, are we men? and do we submit to these things?"</p> - -<p>"Alas!" and the words came through Henry's set teeth, "we are <i>not</i> men; -we are only chattels, property, merchandise, <i>slaves</i>."</p> - -<p>"But is it right for us to be so? I feel the high and lordly instincts -of manhood within me. Must I conquer them? Must I stifle the eloquent -cry of Nature in my breast? Shall I see my wife and children left behind -to the mercy of a hard master, and willingly desert them simply because -another man says that, in exchange for this sacrifice of happiness and -hope, <i>his daughter</i> shall play upon Chickering's finest piano?"</p> - -<p>Heavens! can I ever forget the princely air with which he uttered these -words! His swarthy cheek glowed with a beautiful crimson, and his rich -eye fairly blazed with the fire of a seven-times heated soul, whilst the -thin lip curled and the fine nostril dilated, and the whole form towered -supremely in the majesty of erect and perfect manhood!</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span></p><p>"Hush, Charley, hush," I urged, "this is no place for the expression of -such sentiments, just and noble as they may be."</p> - -<p>Again Henry pressed my hand.</p> - -<p>"It may be imprudent, Ann, but I am reckless now. They have done the -worst they can do. I defy the sharpest dagger-point. My breast is open -to a thousand spears. They can do no more. But how can you, Henry, thus -supinely sit by and see yourself robbed of your life's treasure? I -cannot understand it. Are you lacking in manliness, in courage? Are you -a coward, a <i>slave</i> indeed?"</p> - -<p>"Do not listen to him; leave now, Henry, dear, dear Henry," I implored, -as I observed the singular expression of his face. "Go now, dearest, -without saying another word; for my sake go. You will not refuse me?"</p> - -<p>"No, I will not, dear Ann; but there is a fire raging in my veins."</p> - -<p>"Yes, and Charley is the incendiary. Go, I beg you."</p> - -<p>With a long, fond kiss, he left me, and it was well he did, for in a -moment more Mr. Atkins came to give the order for retiring.</p> - -<p>I found a very comfortable mattress and covering, on the floor of a -good, neatly-carpeted room, which was occupied by five other women. One -of them, a gay girl of about fifteen, a full-blooded African, made her -pallet close to mine. I had observed her during the day as a garrulous, -racketty sort of baggage, that seemed contented with her situation. She -was extremely neat in her dress; and her ebony skin had a rich, oily, -shiny look, resembling the perfect polish of Nebraska blacking on an -exquisite's boot. Partly from their own superiority, but chiefly from -contrast with her complexion, shone white as mountain snow, a regular -row of ivory teeth. Her large flabby ears were adorned by huge -wagon-wheel rings of pinch-beck, and a cumbersome strand of imitation -coral beads adorned her inky throat, whilst her dress was of the -gaudiest colors, plaided in large bars. Thus decked out, she made quite -a figure in the assemblage.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span></p><p>"Is yer name Ann?" she unceremoniously asked.</p> - -<p>"Yes," was my laconic reply.</p> - -<p>"Mine is Lucy; but they calls me Luce fur short."</p> - -<p>No answer being made, she garrulously went on:</p> - -<p>"Was that yer husband what comed to see you this evenin'?"</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"Your brother?"</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"Your cousin?"</p> - -<p>"Neither."</p> - -<p>"Well, he's too young-lookin' fur yer father. Mought he be yer uncle?"</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"Laws, then he mus' be yer sweetheart!" and she chuckled with mirth.</p> - -<p>I made no answer.</p> - -<p>"Why don't you talk, Ann?"</p> - -<p>"I don't feel like it."</p> - -<p>"You don't? well, that's quare."</p> - -<p>Still I made no comment. Nothing daunted, she went on:</p> - -<p>"Is yer gwine down the river with the next lot?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know;" but this time I accompanied my reply with a sigh.</p> - -<p>"What you grunt fur?"</p> - -<p>I could not, though so much distressed, resist a laugh at this singular -interrogatory.</p> - -<p>"Don't yer want to go South? I does. They say it's right nice down dar. -Plenty of oranges. When Masser fust sold me, I was mightily 'stressed; -den Missis, she told me dat dar was a sight of oranges down dar, and dat -we didn't work any on Sundays, and we was 'lowed to marry; so I got -mightily in de notion of gwine. You see Masser Jones never 'lowed his -black folks to marry. I wanted to marry four, five men, and he wouldn't -let me. Den we had to work all day Sundays; never had any time to make -anyting for ourselves; and I does love oranges! I never had more an' a -quarter of one in my life."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span></p><p>Thus she wandered on until she fell off to sleep; but the leaden-winged -cherub visited me not that night. My eye-lids refused to close over the -parched and tear-stained orbs. I dully moved from side to side, changed -and altered my position fifty times, yet there was no repose for me.</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i6">"Not poppy nor mandragora</div> -<div>Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,</div> -<div>Could then medicine me to that sweet sleep</div> -<div>Which I owed yesterday."</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>I saw the dull gray streak of the morning beam, as coldly it played -through the gratings of my room. There, scattered in dismal confusion -over the floor, lay the poor human beings, for whose lives, health and -happiness, save as conducing to the pecuniary advantage of the -trafficker, no thought or care was taken. I rose hastily and adjusted my -dress, for I had not removed it during the night. The noise of my rising -aroused several of the others, and simultaneously they sprang to their -feet, apprehensive that they had slept past the prescribed hour for -rising. Finding that their alarm was groundless, and that they were by -the clock an hour too early, they grumbled a good deal at what they -thought my unnecessary awaking. I would have given much to win to my -heart the easy indifference as to fate, which many of them wore like a -loose glove; but there I was vulnerable at every pore, and wounded at -each. What a curse to a slave's life is a sensitive nature!</p> - -<p>That day closed as had the preceding, save that at evening Henry did not -come as before. I wandered out in the yard, which was surrounded by a -high brick-wall, covered at the top with sharp iron spikes, to prevent -the escape of slaves. Through this barricaded ground I was allowed to -take a little promenade. There was not a shrub or green blade of grass -to enliven me; but my eyes lingered not upon the earth. They were turned -up to the full moon, shining so round and goldenly from the purple -heaven, and, scattered sparsely through the fields of azure, were a few -stars, looking brighter and larger from their scarcity.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span></p><p>"Will my death-hour ever come?" I asked myself despairingly. "Have I -not tasted of the worst of life? Is not the poisoned cup drained to its -last dregs?"</p> - -<p>I fancied that I heard a voice answer, as from the clouds,</p> - -<p>"No, there are a few bitterer drops that must yet be drunk. Press the -goblet still closer to your lips."</p> - -<p>I shuddered coldly as the last tones of the imagined voice died away -upon the soft night air.</p> - -<p>"Is that," I cried, "a prophet warning? Comes it to me now that I may -gird my soul for the approaching warfare? Let me, then, put on my helmet -and buckler, and, like a life-tired soldier, rush headlong into the -thickest of the fight, praying that the first bullet may prove a friend -and drink my blood!"</p> - -<p>Yet I shrank, like the weakest and most fearful of my race, when the -distant cotton-fields rose upon my mental view! There, beneath the heat -of a "hot and copper sky," I saw myself wearily tugging at my assigned -task; yet my fear was not for the physical trouble that awaited me. Had -Henry been going, "down the river" would have had no terror for me; but -I was to part from joy, from love, from life itself! Oh, why, why have -we—poor bondsmen and bondswomen—these fine and delicate sensibilities? -Why do we love? Why are we not all coarse and hard, mere human beasts of -burden, with no higher mental or moral conception, than obedience to the -will or caprice of our owners?</p> - -<p>Night closed over this second weary day. And thus passed on many days -and nights. I did some plain sewing by way of employment, and at the -command of a mulatto woman, who was the kept mistress of Atkins, and -therefore placed in authority over us. Many of the women were hired out -to residents of the city on trial, and if they were found to be -agreeable and good servants, perhaps they were purchased. Before sending -them out, Mr. Atkins always called them to him, and, shaking his cane -over their heads, said,</p> - -<p>"Now, you d——d hussy, or rascal (as they chanced to be male or female) -if you behave yourselves well, you'll find a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> good home; but you dare to -get sick or misbehave, and be sent back to me, and I'll thrash you in an -inch of your cursed life."</p> - -<p>With this demoniacal threat ringing in their ears, it is not likely that -the poor wretches started off with any intention of bad conduct.</p> - -<p>We constantly received accessions to our number, but never acquisitions, -for the poor, ill-fed, ill-kept wretches that came in there, "sold (as -Atkins said) for a mere song," were desolate and revolting to see.</p> - -<p>Charley found one or two old books, that he seemed to read and re-read; -indifferent novels, perhaps, that served, at least, to keep down the -ravening tortures of thought. I lent him my Testament, and he read a -great deal in it. He said that he had one, but had left it with his -wife. He was a member of the Methodist Church; had gone on Sunday -afternoons to a school that had been established for the benefit of -colored people, and thus, unknown to his master, had acquired the first -principles of a good education. He could read and write, and was in -possession of the rudiments of arithmetic. He told me that his wife had -not had the opportunities he had, and therefore she was more deficient, -but he added, "she had a great thirst for knowledge, such as I have -never seen excelled, and rarely equalled. I have known her, after the -close of her daily labors, devote the better portion of the night to -study. I gave her all the instruction I could, and she was beginning to -read with considerable accuracy; but all that is over, past and gone -now." And again he ground his teeth fiercely, and a wild, lurid light -gathered in his eye.</p> - -<p>This man almost made me oblivious of my own grief, in sympathy for his. -I did all I could by "moral suasion," as the politicians say, to soften -his resentment. I bade him turn his thoughts toward that religion which -he had espoused.</p> - -<p>"I have no religion for this," he would bitterly say.</p> - -<p>And in truth, I fear me much if the heroism of saints would hold out on -such occasions. There, fastened to that impassioned husband's heart, -playing with its dearest chords, was the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span>fang-like hand of the white -man! Oh, slow tortures! in comparison to which that of Prometheus was -very pleasure. There is no Tartarus like that of wounded, agonized -domestic love! Far away from him, in a lonely cabin, he beheld his -stricken wife and all his "pretty chickens" pining and unprotected.</p> - -<p>Slowly, after a few days, he relapsed into that stony sort of despair -that denies itself the gratification of speech. The change was very -painfully visible to me, and I tried, by every artifice, to arouse him; -but I had no power to wake him.</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>"Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak,</div> -<div>Whispers the o'erfraught heart, and bids it break."</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>And soon learning this, I left him, a remorseless prey to that "rooted -sorrow" of the brain.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * *</p> - -<p>One day, as we all sat in the shed-room, engaged at our various -occupations, we were roused by a noise of violent weeping, and something -like a rude scuffle just without the door, when suddenly Atkins entered, -dragging after him, with his hand close about his throat, a poor negro -man, aged and worn, with a head white as cotton.</p> - -<p>"Oh, please, Masser, jist let me go back, an' tell de ole 'ooman -farewell, an' I won't ax for any more."</p> - -<p>"No, you old rascal, you wants to run away. If you say another word -about the old voman, I'll beat the life out of you."</p> - -<p>"Oh lor', oh lor', de poor ole 'ooman an' de boys; oh my ole heart will -bust!" and, sobbing like a child, the old man sank down upon the floor, -in the most abandoned grief.</p> - -<p>"Here, boys, some of you git the fiddle and play, an' I warrant that old -fool will be dancin' in a minnit," said Atkins in his unfeeling way.</p> - -<p>Of course this speech met with the most signal applause from "de boys" -addressed.</p> - -<p>I watched the expression of Charles' face. It was frightful.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> He sat in -one corner, as usual, with an open book in his hand. From it he raised -his eyes, and, whilst the scene between Atkins and the old negro was -going on, they flashed with an expression that I could not fathom. His -brows knit, and his lip curled, yet he spoke no word.</p> - -<p>When Atkins withdrew, the old man lay there, still weeping and sobbing -piteously. I went up to him, kindly saying,</p> - -<p>"What is the matter, old uncle?"</p> - -<p>The sound of a kind voice aroused him, and looking up through his -streaming tears, he said,</p> - -<p>"Oh, chile, I's got a poor ole 'ooman dat lives 'bout half mile in de -country. Masser fotch me in town to-day, an' say he was agwine to hire -me fur a few weeks. Wal, I beliebed him, bekase Masser has bin hard run -fur money, an' I was willin' to hope him 'long, so I consented to be -hired in town fur little while, and den go out an' see de ole 'ooman an' -de boys Saturday nights. Wal, de fust thing I knowed when I got to town -I was sold to a trader. Masser wouldn't tell me hisself; but, when I got -here, de gemman what I thought I was hired to, tole me dat Masser Atkins -had bought me; an' I wanted to go back an' ask Masser, but he laughed -an' say 'twant no use, Masser done gone out home. Oh, lor'! 'peared like -dere was nobody to trus' to den. I begged to go an' say good-bye; but -dey 'fused me dat, an' Masser Atkins 'gan to swear, an' he struck me -'cross de head. Oh, I didn't tink Masser wud do me so in my ole age!"</p> - -<p>I ask you, reader, if for a sorrow like this there was any word of -comfort? I thought not, and did not dare try to offer any.</p> - -<p>"Will scenes like these ever cease?" I fretfully asked, as I turned to -Charles.</p> - -<p>"Never!" was the bitter answer.</p> - -<p>This old man talked constantly of his little woolly-headed boys. When -telling of their sportive gambols, he would smile, even whilst the tears -were flowing down his cheeks.</p> - -<p>He often had a crowd of slaves around him listening to his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> talk of -"wife and children," but I seldom made one of the number, for it -saddened me too much. I knew that he was telling of joys that could -never come to him again.</p> - -<p>On one of these occasions, when uncle Peter, as he was called, was deep -in the merits of his conversation, I was sitting in the corner of the -room sewing, when Luce came running breathlessly up to me, with a bunch -of beautiful flowers in her hand.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Ann," she exclaimed, "dat likely-lookin' yallow man, dat cum to see -you, an' fotch yer trunk de fust night yer comed here, was passin' by, -an' I was stanin' at de gate; an' he axed me to han' dis to you."</p> - -<p>And she gave me the bouquet, which I took, breathing a thousand -blessings upon the head of my devoted Henry.</p> - -<p>I had often wondered why Louise had never been to see me. She knew very -well where I was, and access to me was easy. But I was not long kept in -suspense, for, on that very night she came, bringing with her a few -sweetmeats, which I distributed among those of my companions who felt -more inclined to eat them than I did.</p> - -<p>"I have wondered, Louise, why you did not come sooner."</p> - -<p>"Well, the fact is, Ann, I've been busy trying to find you a home. I -couldn't bear to come without bringing you good news. Henry and I have -worked hard. All of our leisure moments have been devoted to it. We have -scoured this city over, but with no success; and, hearing yesterday that -Mr. Atkins would start down the river to-morrow, with all of you, I -could defer coming no longer. Poor Henry is too much distressed to come! -He says he'll not sleep this night, but will ransack the city till he -finds somebody able and willing to rescue you."</p> - -<p>"How does he look?" I asked.</p> - -<p>"Six years older than when you saw him last. He takes this very hard; -has lost his appetite, and can't sleep at night."</p> - -<p>I said nothing; but my heart was full, full to overflowing. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span> longed to -be alone, to fall with my face on the earth and weep. The presence of -Louise restrained me, for I always shrank from exposing my feelings.</p> - -<p>"Are we going to-morrow?" I inquired.</p> - -<p>"Yes, Mr. Atkins told me so this evening. Did you not know of it?"</p> - -<p>"No, indeed; am I among the lot?"</p> - -<p>After a moment's hesitation she replied,</p> - -<p>"Yes, he told me that you were, and, on account of your beauty, he -expected you would bring a good price in the Southern market. Oh -heavens, Ann, this is too dreadful to repeat; yet you will have to know -of it."</p> - -<p>"Oh yes, yes;" and I could no longer restrain myself; I fell, weeping, -in her arms.</p> - -<p>She could not remain long with me, for Mr. Atkins closed up the -establishment at half-past nine. Bidding me an affectionate farewell, -and assuring me that she would, with Henry, do all that could be done -for my relief, she left me.</p> - -<p>A most wretched, phantom-peopled night was that! Ten thousand horrors -haunted me! Of course I slept none; but imagination seemed turned to a -fiend, and tortured me in divers ways.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXXIV.</h2> - -<p class="center">SCENE IN THE PEN—STARTING "DOWN THE RIVER"—UNCLE PETER'S TRIAL—MY -RESCUE.</p> - -<p>On the next day, after breakfast, Mr. Atkins came in, saying,</p> - -<p>"Well, niggers, git yourselves ready. You must all start down the river -to-day, at ten o'clock. A good boat is going out. Huddle up your clothes -as quick as possible—no fuss, now."</p> - -<p>When he left, there was lamentation among some; silent mourning with -others; joy for a few.</p> - -<p>Shall I ever forget the despairing look of Charley? How passionately he -compressed his lips! I went up to him, and, laying my hand on his arm, -said,</p> - -<p>"Let us be strong to meet the trouble that is sent us!"</p> - -<p>He looked at me, but made no reply. I thought there was the wildness of -insanity in his glance, and turned away.</p> - -<p>It was now eight o'clock, and I had not heard from Henry or Louise. -Alas! my heart misgave me. I had been buoyed up for some time by the -flatteries and delusions of Hope! but now I felt that I had nothing to -sustain me; the last plank had sunk!</p> - -<p>I did not pretend to "get myself ready," as Mr. Atkins had directed; the -fact is, I was ready. The few articles of wearing apparel that I called -mine were all in my trunk, with some little presents that Henry had made -me, such as a brooch, earrings, &c. These were safely locked, and the -key hung round my neck. But the others were busy "getting ready." I was -standing near the door, anxiously hoping to see either Henry or Louise, -when an old negro woman, thinly clad, without any bonnet on her head, -and with a basket in her hand, came up to me, saying,</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span></p><p>"Please mam, is my ole man in here? De massa out here say I may speak -'long wid him, and say farwell;" and she wiped her eyes with the corner -of an old torn check apron.</p> - -<p>I was much touched, and asked her the name of her old man.</p> - -<p>"Pete, mam."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, he is within," and I stepped aside to let her pass through the -door.</p> - -<p>She went hobbling along, making her passage through the crowd, and I -followed after. In a few moments Pete saw her.</p> - -<p>"Oh dear! oh dear!" he cried out, "Judy is come;" and running up to her, -he embraced her most affectionately.</p> - -<p>"Yes," she said, "I begged Masser to let me come and see you. It was -long time before he told me dat you was sole to a trader and gwine down -de ribber. Oh, Lord! it 'pears like I ken never git usin to it! Dars no -way for me ever to hear from you. You kan't write, neither ken I. Oh, -what shill we do?"</p> - -<p>"I doesn't know, Judy, we's in de hands ob de Lord. We mus' trus' to -Him. Maybe He'll save us. Keep on prayin', Judy."</p> - -<p>The old man's voice grew very feeble, as he asked,</p> - -<p>"An de chillen, de boys, how is dey?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, dey is well. Sammy wanted to come long 'wid me; but it was too fur -for him to walk. Joe gib me dis, and say, take it to daddy from me."</p> - -<p>She looked in her basket, and drew out a little painted cedar whistle. -The tears rolled down the old man's cheeks as he took it, and, looking -at it, he shook his head mournfully,</p> - -<p>"Poor boy, dis is what I give him fur a Christmas gift, an' he sot a -great store to it. Only played wid it of Sundays and holidays. No, take -it back to him, an' tell him to play wid it, and never forget his poor -ole daddy dat's sole 'way down de ribber!"</p> - -<p>Here he fairly broke down, and, bursting into tears, wept aloud.</p> - -<p>"Oh, God hab bin marciful to me in lettin' me see you, Judy, once agin! -an' I am an ongrateful sinner not to bar up better."</p> - -<p>Judy was weeping violently.</p> - -<p>"Oh, if dey would but buy me! I wants to go long wid you."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span></p><p>"No, no, Judy, you must stay long wid de chillen, an' take kere ob 'em. -Besides, you is not strong enough to do de work dey would want you to -do. No, I had better go by myself," and he wiped his eyes with his old -coat sleeve.</p> - -<p>"I wish," he added, "dat I had some little present to send de boys," -and, fumbling away in his pocket, he at length drew out two shining -brass buttons that he had picked up in the yard.</p> - -<p>"Give dis to 'em; say it was all thar ole daddy had to send 'em; but, -maybe, some time I'll have some money; and if I meet any friends down de -ribber, I'll send it to 'em, and git a letter writ back to let you and -'em know whar I is sold."</p> - -<p>Judy opened her basket, and handed him a small bundle.</p> - -<p>"Here, Pete, is a couple of shirts and a par of trowsers I fetched you, -and here's a good par of woollen socks to keep you warm in de winter; -and dis is one of Masser's ole woollen undershirts dat Missis sent you. -You know how you allers suffers in cold wedder wid de rheumatiz."</p> - -<p>"Tell Missis thankee," and his voice was choking in his throat.</p> - -<p>There was many a tearful eye among the company, looking at this little -scene. But, suddenly it was broken up by the appearance of Mr. Atkins.</p> - -<p>"Well, ole woman," he began, addressing Uncle Pete's wife, "it is time -you was agoin'. You has staid long enough. Thar's no use in makin' a -fuss. Pete belongs to me, an' I am agoin' to sell him to the highest -bidder I can find down the river."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Masser, won't you please buy me?" asked Judy.</p> - -<p>"No, you old fool."</p> - -<p>"Oh, hush Judy, pray hush," put in Pete; "humor her a little Masser -Atkins, she will go in a minnit. Now do go, honey," he added, addressing -Judy, who stood a moment, irresolutely, regarding her old husband; then -screaming out, "Oh no, no, I can't leave you!" fell down at his feet -half insensible.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Lord Jesus, hab marcy!" groaned Pete, as he bent over his partner's -body.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span></p><p>"Take her out, instantly," exclaimed Atkins, as one of the men dragged -the body out.</p> - -<p>"Please be kereful, don't hurt her," implored Pete.</p> - -<p>"Behave yourself, and don't go near her," said Atkins to him, "or I'll -have both you an' her flogged. I am not goin' to have these fusses in my -pen."</p> - -<p>All this time Charley's face was frightful. As Atkins passed along he -looked toward Charley, and I thought he quailed before him. That regal -face of the mulatto man was well calculated to awe such a sinister and -small soul as Atkins.</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes, Charles, that proud spirit of yourn will git pretty well -broken down in the cotton fields," he murmured, just loud enough to be -heard. Charles made no answer, though I observed that his cheek fairly -blazed.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * *</p> - -<p>When we were all bonneted, trunks corded down, and bundles tied up, -waiting, in the shed-room, for the order to get in the omnibus, Uncle -Pete suddenly spied the basket which Judy, in her insensibility, had -left. Picking it up, I saw the tears glitter in his eyes when the two -bright buttons rolled out on the floor.</p> - -<p>"These puttys," he muttered to himself, "was fur de boys. Poor fellows! -Now dey won't have any keepsake from dar daddy; and den here's de little -cedar whistle; oh, I wish I could send it out to 'em." Looking round the -room he saw Kitty, the mulatto woman, of whom I have before spoken as -the mistress of Atkins.</p> - -<p>"Oh, please, Kitty, will you have dis basket, dis whistle, and dese -putty buttons, sent out to Mr. John Jones', to my ole 'ooman Judy?'</p> - -<p>"Yes," answered the woman, "I will."</p> - -<p>"Thankee mam, and you'll very much oblige me."</p> - -<p>"Come 'long with you all. The omnibus is ready," cried out Atkins, and -we all took up the line of march for the door,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> each pausing to say -good-bye to Kitty, and yet none caring much for her, as she had not been -agreeable to us.</p> - -<p>"Going down the river, really," I said to myself.</p> - -<p>"Wait a minnit," said Atkins, and calling to a sort of foreman, who did -his roughest work, he bade him handcuff us.</p> - -<p>How fiercely-proud looked the face of Charles, as they fastened the -manacles on his wrists.</p> - -<p>I made no complaint, nor offered resistance. My heart was maddened. I -almost blamed Louise, and chided Henry for not forcing my deliverance. I -could have broken the handcuffs, so strongly was I possessed by an -unnatural power.</p> - -<p>"Git in the 'bus," said the foreman, as he riveted on the last handcuff.</p> - -<p>Just as I had taken my seat in the omnibus, Henry came frantically -rushing up. The great beads of perspiration stood upon his brow; and his -thick, hard breathing, was frightful. Sinking down upon the ground, all -he could say was,</p> - -<p>"Ann! Ann!"</p> - -<p>I rose and stood erect in the omnibus, looking at him, but dared not -move one step toward him.</p> - -<p>"What is the matter with that nigger?" inquired Atkins, pointing toward -Henry. Then addressing the driver, he bade him drive down to the wharf.</p> - -<p>"Stop! stop!" exclaimed Henry; "in Heaven's name stop, Mr. Atkins, -here's a gentleman coming to buy Ann. Wait a moment."</p> - -<p>Just then a tall, grave-looking man, apparently past forty, walked up.</p> - -<p>"Who the d——l is that?" gruffly asked Mr. Atkins.</p> - -<p>"It is Mr. Moodwell," Henry replied. "He has come to buy Ann."</p> - -<p>"Who said that I wanted to sell her?"</p> - -<p>"You would let her go for a fair price, wouldn't you?"</p> - -<p>"No, but I would part with her for a first-rate one."</p> - -<p>Just then, as hope began to relume my soul, Mr. Moodwell approached -Atkins, saying,</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span></p><p>"I wish to buy a yellow girl of you."</p> - -<p>"Which one?"</p> - -<p>"A girl by the name of Ann. Where is she?"</p> - -<p>"Don't you know her by sight?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly not, for I have never seen her."</p> - -<p>"You don't want to buy without first seeing her?"</p> - -<p>"I take her upon strong recommendation."</p> - -<p>With a dogged, and I fancied disappointed air, Atkins bade me stand -forth. Right willingly I obeyed; and appearing before Mr. Moodwell, with -a smiling, hopeful face, I am not surprised that he was pleased with me, -and readily paid down the price of a thousand dollars that was demanded -by Atkins. When I saw the writings drawn up, and became aware that I had -passed out of the trader's possession, and could remain near Henry, I -lifted my eyes to Heaven, breathing out an ardent act of adoration and -gratitude.</p> - -<p>Quickly Henry stood beside me, and clasping my yielding hand within his -own, whispered,</p> - -<p>"You are safe, dear Ann."</p> - -<p>I had no words wherewith to express my thankfulness; but the happy tears -that glistened in my eyes, and the warm pressure of the hand that I -gave, assured him of the sincerity of my gratitude.</p> - -<p>My trunk was very soon taken down from the top of the omnibus and -shouldered by Henry.</p> - -<p>Looking up at my companions, I beheld the savagely-stern face of -Charles; and thinking of his troubles, I blamed myself for having given -up to selfish joy, when such agony was within my sight. I rushed up to -the side of the omnibus and extended my hand to him.</p> - -<p>"God has taken care of you," he said, with a groan, "but I am -forgotten!"</p> - -<p>"Don't despair of His mercy, Charley." More I could not say; for the -order was given them to start, and the heavy vehicle rolled away.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span></p><p>As I turned toward Henry he remarked the shadow upon my brow, and -tenderly inquired the cause.</p> - -<p>"I am distressed for Charley."</p> - -<p>"Poor fellow! I would that I had the power to relieve him."</p> - -<p>"Come on, come on," said Mr. Moodwell, and we followed him to the G—— -House, where I found Louise, anxiously waiting for me.</p> - -<p>"You are safe, thank Heaven!" she exclaimed, and joyful tears were -rolling down her smooth cheeks.</p> - -<p>The reaction of feeling was too powerful for me, and my health sank -under it. I was very ill for several weeks, with fever. Louise and Henry -nursed me faithfully. Mr. Moodwell had purchased me for a maiden sister -of his, who was then travelling in the Southern States, and I was left -at the G—— House until I should get well, at which time, if she should -not have returned, I was to be hired out until she came. I recollect -well when I first opened my eyes, after an illness of weeks. I was lying -on a nice bed in Louise's room. As it was a cool evening in the early -October, there was a small comfort-diffusing fire burning in the grate; -and on a little stand, beside my bed, was a very pretty and fragrant -bouquet. Seated near me, with my hand in his, was the one being on earth -whom I best loved. He was singing in a low, musical tone, the touching -Ethiopian melody of "Old Folks at Home." Slowly my eyes opened upon the -pleasant scene! Looking into his deep, witching eyes, I murmured low, -whilst my hand returned the pressure of his,</p> - -<p>"Is it you, dear Henry?"</p> - -<p>"It is I, my love; I have just got through with my work, and I came to -see you. Finding you asleep, I sat down beside you to hum a favorite -air; but I fear, that instead of calming, I have broken your slumber, -sweet."</p> - -<p>"No, dearest, I am glad to be aroused. I feel so much better than I have -felt for weeks. My head is free from fever, and except for the absence -of strength, am as well as I ever was."</p> - -<p>"Oh, it makes me really happy to hear you say so. I have been so uneasy -about you. The doctor was afraid of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span>congestion of the brain. You cannot -know how I suffered in mind about you; but now your flesh feels cool and -pleasant, and your strength will, I trust, soon return."</p> - -<p>Just then Louise entered, bearing a cup of tea and a nice brown slice of -toast, and a delicate piece of chicken, on a neat little salver. At -sight of this dainty repast, my long-forgotten appetite returned, with a -most healthful vigor. But my kind nurse, who was glad to find me so -well, determined to keep me so, and would not allow me a hearty -indulgence of appetite.</p> - -<p>In a few days I was able to sit up in an easy chair, and, at every -opportunity, Louise would amuse me with some piece of pleasant gossip, -in relation to the boarders, &c. And Henry, my good, kind, noble Henry, -spent all his spare change in buying oranges and pine-apples for me, and -in sending rare bouquets, luxuries in which I took especial delight. -Then, during the long, cheerful autumnal evenings, when a fire sparkled -in the grate, he would, after his work was done, bring his banjo and -play for me; whilst his rich, gushing voice warbled some old familiar -song. Its touching plaintiveness often brought the tears to my eyes.</p> - -<p>Thus passed a few weeks pleasantly enough for me; but like all the other -rose-winged hours, they soon had a close.</p> - -<p>My strength had been increasing rapidly, and Mr. Moodwell, the brother -and agent of my mistress, concluded that I was strong enough to be hired -out. Accordingly, he apprized me of his intention, saying,</p> - -<p>"Ann, sister Nancy has written me word to hire you out until spring, -when she will return and take you home. I have selected a place for you, -in the capacity of house-servant. You must behave yourself well."</p> - -<p>I assured him that I would do my best; then asked the name of the family -to whom I was hired.</p> - -<p>"To Josiah Smith, on Chestnut street, I have hired you. He has two -daughters and a young niece living with him, and wishes you to wait on -them."</p> - -<p>After apprizing Henry and Louise of my new home, <i>pro tem.</i>,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> I -requested the former to bring my trunk out that night, which he readily -promised. Bidding them a kind and cheerful adieu, I followed Mr. -Moodwell out to Chestnut street.</p> - -<p>This is one of the most retired and beautiful streets in the city of -L——, and Mr. Josiah Smith's residence the very handsomest among a -number of exceedingly elegant mansions.</p> - -<p>Opening a bronze gate, we passed up a broad tesselated stone walk that -led to the house, which was built of pure white stone, and three stories -in height, with an observatory on the top, and the front ornamented with -a richly-wrought iron verandah. Reposing in front upon the sward, were -two couchant tigers of dark gray stone.</p> - -<p>Passing through the verandah, we stopped at the mahogany door until Mr. -Moodwell pulled the silver bell-knob, which was speedily answered by a -neatly-dressed man-servant, who bade Mr. Moodwell walk in the parlor, -and requested me to wait without the door until he could find leisure to -attend to me.</p> - -<p>I obeyed this direction, and amused myself examining what remained of a -very handsome flower-garden, until he returned, when conducting me -around, by a private entrance, he ushered me into the kitchen.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXXV.</h2> - -<p class="center">THE NEW HOME—A PLEASANT FAMILY GROUP—QUIET LOVE-MEETINGS.</p> - -<p>I became domesticated very soon in Mr. Josiah Smith's family. I learned -what my work was, and did it very faithfully, and I believe to their -satisfaction.</p> - -<p>The family proper consisted of Mr. Smith, his wife, two daughters, and a -niece. Mr. Smith was a merchant, of considerable wealth and social -influence, and the young ladies were belles par-excellence. Mrs. Smith -was the domestic of the concern, who carried on the establishment, a -little, busy, fussy sort of woman, that went sailing it round the house -with a huge bunch of keys dangling at her side, an incessant scold, with -a voice sharp and clear like a steamboat bell; a managing, thrifty sort -of person, a perfect terror to negroes; up of a morning betimes, and in -the kitchen, fussing with the cook about breakfast.</p> - -<p>I had very little to do with Mrs. Letitia. My business was almost -exclusively with the young ladies. I cleaned and arranged their rooms, -set the parlors right, swept and dusted them, and then attended to the -dining-room. This part of my work threw me under Mrs. Letitia's dynasty; -but as I generally did my task well, she had not much objection to make, -though her natural fault-finding disposition sharpened her optics a good -deal, and she generally discovered something about which to complain.</p> - -<p>Miss Adele Smith was the elder of the two daughters, a tall, pale girl, -with dark hair, carefully banded over a smooth, polished brow, large -black eyes and a pleasing manner.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span></p><p>The second, Miss Nellie, was a round, plump girl of blonde complexion, -fair hair and light eyes, with a rich peach-flush on her cheek, and a -round, luscious, cherry-red mouth, that was always curling and -curvetting with smiles.</p> - -<p>The cousin, Lulu Carey, was a real romantic character, with a light, -fragile form, milk-white skin, the faintest touch of carmine playing -over the cheek, mellow gray eyes, earnest and loving, and a profusion of -chestnut-brown hair fell in the richest ringlets to her waist. Her -features and caste of face were perfect. She was habited in close -mourning, for her mother had been dead but one year, and the -half-perceptible shadow of grief that hung over her face, form and -manner, rendered her glorious beauty even more attractive.</p> - -<p>It was a real pleasure to me to serve these young ladies, for though -they were the élite, the cream of the aristocracy, they were without -those offensive "airs" that render the fashionable society of the West -so reprehensible. Though their parlors were filled every evening with -the gayest company, and they were kept up late, they always came to -their rooms with pleasant smiles and gracious words, and often chided me -for remaining out of bed.</p> - -<p>"Don't wait for us, Ann," they would say. "It isn't right to keep you -from your rest on our account."</p> - -<p>I slept on a pallet in their chamber, and took great delight in -remaining up until they came, and then assisted them in disrobing.</p> - -<p>It was the first time I had ever known white ladies (and young) to be -amiable, and seemingly philanthropic, and of course a very powerful -interest was excited for them. They had been educated in Boston, and had -imbibed some of the liberal and generous principles that are, I think, -indigenous to high Northern latitudes. Indeed, I believe Miss Lulu -strongly inclined toward their social and reformatory doctrines, though -she did not dare give them any very open expression, for Mr. and Mrs. -Josiah Smith were strong pro-slavery, conservative people, and would not -have countenanced any dissent from their opinions.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span></p><p>Mrs. Smith used to say, "Niggers ought to be exterminated."</p> - -<p>And Miss Lulu, in her quiet way, would reply,</p> - -<p>"Yes, as slaves they should be exterminated."</p> - -<p>And then how pretty and naïvely she arched her pencilled brows. This was -always understood by the sisters, who must have shared her liberal -views.</p> - -<p>Mr. Smith was so much absorbed in mercantile matters, that he seldom -came home, except at meals or late at night, when the household was -wrapped in sleep; and, even on Sundays, when all the world took rest, he -was locked up in his counting-room. This seemed singular to me, for a -man of Mr. Smith's reputed and apparent wealth might have found time, at -least on Sunday, for quiet.</p> - -<p>The young ladies were very prompt and regular in their attendance at -church, but I used often to hear Miss Lulu exclaim, after returning,</p> - -<p>"Why don't they give us something new? These old rags of theology weary, -not to say annoy me. If Christianity is marching so rapidly on, why have -we still, rising up in our very midst, institutions the vilest and most -revolting! Why are we cursed with slavery? Why have we houses of -prostitution, where beauty is sold for a price? Why have we pest and -alms-houses? Who is the poor man's friend? Who is there with enough of -Christ's spirit to speak kindly to the Magdalene, and bid her 'go and -sin no more'? Alas, for Christianity to-day!"</p> - -<p>"But we must accept life as it is, and patiently wait the coming of the -millennium, when things will be as they ought," was Miss Adele's reply.</p> - -<p>"Oh, now coz, don't you and sis go to speculating upon life's troubles, -but come and tell me what I shall wear to the party to-morrow night," -broke from the gay lips of the lively Nellie.</p> - -<p>In this strain I've many times heard them talk, but it always wound up -with a smile at the suggestion of the volatile Miss Nellie.</p> - -<p>When I had been there but two days, I began to suspect Mrs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> Smith's -disposition, for she several times declared her opinion that niggers had -no business with company, and that her's shouldn't have any. This was a -damper to my hopes, for my chief motive for wishing to be sold in L—— -was the pleasure I expected to derive from Henry's society. Every night, -as early as eight, the servants were ordered to their respective -quarters, and, as I slept in the house, a stolen interview with him -would have been impossible, as Mrs. Smith was too alert for me to make -an unobserved exit. On the second evening of my sojourn there, Henry -called to see me about half-past seven o'clock; and, just as I was -beginning to yield myself up to pleasure, Mrs. Smith came to the -kitchen, and, seeing him there, asked,</p> - -<p>"Whose negro is this?"</p> - -<p>"Henry Graham is my name, Missis," was the reply.</p> - -<p>"Well, what business have you here?"</p> - -<p>Henry was embarrassed; he hung his head, and, after a moment, faltered -out,</p> - -<p>"I came to see Ann, Missis."</p> - -<p>"Where do you belong?"</p> - -<p>"I belong to Mr. Graham, but am hired to the G—— House."</p> - -<p>"Well, then, go right there; and, if ever I catch you in my kitchen -again, I'll send your master word, and have you well flogged. I don't -allow negro men to come to see my servants. I want them to have no false -notions put into their heads. A nigger has no business visiting; let him -stay at home and do his master's work. I shouldn't be surprised if I -missed something out of the kitchen, and if I do, I shall know that you -stole it, and you shall be whipped for it; so shall Ann, for daring to -bring strange niggers into my kitchen. Now, clear yourself, man."</p> - -<p>With an humbled, mortified air, Henry took his leave. A thousand -scorpions were writhing in my breast. That he, my love, so honest, -noble, honorable, and gentlemanly in all his feelings, should be so -accused almost drove me to madness. I could not bear to have his pride -so bowed and his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span>dearly-cherished principles outraged. From that day I -entertained no kind feeling for Mrs. Smith.</p> - -<p>On another occasion, a Saturday afternoon, when Louise came to sit a few -moments with me, she heard of it, and, rushing down stairs, ordered her -to leave on the instant, adding that her great abomination was free -niggers, and she wouldn't have them lurking round her kitchen, -corrupting her servants, and, perhaps, purloining everything within -their reach.</p> - -<p>Louise was naturally of a quick and passionate disposition; and, to be -thus wantonly and harshly treated, was more than she could bear. So she -furiously broke forth, and such a scene as occurred between them was -disgraceful to humanity! Miss Adele hearing the noise instantly came -out, and in a positive tone ordered Louise to leave; which order was -obeyed. After hearing from her mother a correct statement of the case, -Miss Adele burst into tears and went to her room. I afterward heard her -kindly remonstrating with her mother upon the injustice of such a course -of conduct toward her servants. But Mrs. Smith was confirmed in her -notions. They had been instilled into her early in life; had grown with -her growth and strengthened with her years. So it was not possible for -her young and philanthropic daughter to remove them. Once, when Miss -Adele was quite sick, and after I had been nursing her indefatigably for -some time, she said to me,</p> - -<p>"Ann, you have told me the story of your love. I have been thinking of -Henry, and pitying his condition, and trying to devise some way for you -to see him."</p> - -<p>"Thank you, Miss Adele, you are very kind."</p> - -<p>"The plan I have resolved upon is this: I will pretend to send you out -of evenings on errands for me; you can have an understanding with Henry, -and meet at some certain point; then take a walk or go to a friend's; -but always be careful to get home before ten o'clock."</p> - -<p>This was kindness indeed, and I felt the grateful tears gathering in my -eyes! I could not speak, but knelt down beside the bed, and reverently -kissed the hem of her robe. Goodness such<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span> as hers, charity and love to -all, elicited almost my very worship!</p> - -<p>I remember the first evening that I carried this scheme into effect. She -was sitting in a large arm-chair, carefully wrapped up in the folds of -an elegant velvet <i>robe-de-chambre</i>. Her mother, sister, and cousin were -beside her, all engaged in a cheerful conversation, when she called me -to her, and pretended to give me some errand to attend to out in the -city, telling me <i>pointedly</i> that it would require my attention until -near ten o'clock. How like a lovely earth-angel appeared she then!</p> - -<p>I had previously apprized Henry of the arrangement, and named a point of -meeting. Upon reaching it, I found him already waiting for me. We took a -long stroll through the lamp-lit streets, talking of the blessed hopes -that struggled in our bosoms; of the faint divinings of the future; told -over the story of past sufferings, and renewed olden vows of devotion.</p> - -<p>He, with the most lover-like fondness, had brought me some little gift; -for this I kindly reproved him, saying that all his money should be -appropriated to himself, that, by observing a rigid economy, we but -hastened on the glorious day of release from bondage. Before ten I was -at home, and waiting beside Miss Adele. How kindly she asked me if I had -enjoyed myself; and with what pride I told her of the joy that her -kindness had afforded me! Surely the sweet smile that played so -luminously over her fair face was a reflex of the peace that irradiated -her soul! How beautifully she illustrated, in her single life, the holy -ministrations of true womanhood! Did she not, with kind words and -generous acts, "strive to bind up the bruised, broken heart." At the -very mention of her name, aye, at the thought of her even, I never fail -to invoke a blessing upon her life!</p> - -<p>Thus, for weeks and months, through her ingenuity, I saw Henry and -Louise frequently. Otherwise, how dull and dreary would have seemed to -me that long, cold winter, with its heaped snow-banks, its dull, gray -sky, its faint, chill sun, and leafless trees; but the sunbeam of her -kindness made the season bright, warm and grateful!</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h2> - -<p class="center">THE NEW ASSOCIATES—DEPRAVED VIEWS—ELSY'S MISTAKE—DEPARTURE OF THE -YOUNG LADIES—LONELINESS.</p> - -<p>In Mr. Smith's family of servants was Emily, the cook, a sagacious -woman, but totally without education, knowledge, or the peculiar -ambition that leads to its acquisition. She was a bold, raw, unthinking -spirit; and, from the fact that she had been kept closely confined to -the house, never allowed any social pleasure, she resolved to be -revenged, and unfortunately in her desire for "spite" (as she termed -it), had sacrificed her character, and was the mother of two children, -with unacknowledged fathers. Possessed of a violent temper, she would, -at periods, rave like a mad-woman; and only the severest lashing could -bring her into subjection. She was my particular terror. Her two -children, half-bloods, were little, sick, weasly things that excited the -compassion of all beholders, and though two years of age (twins), were, -from some physical derangement, unable to walk.</p> - -<p>There was also a man servant, Duke, who attended to odd ends of -housework, and served in the capacity of decorated carriage-driver, and -a girl, Elsy, a raw, green, country concern, good-natured and foolish, -with a face as black as tar. They had hired her from a man in the -country, and she being quite delighted with town and the off-cast finery -of the ladies, was as happy as <i>she</i> could be—yet the mistakes she -constantly made were truly amusing. She had formed quite an attachment -for Duke, which he did not in the slightest degree return; yet, with -none of the bashfulness of her sex, she confessed to the feeling, and -declared that "Duke was very mean not to love<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span> her a little." This never -failed to excite the derision of the more sprightly Emily.</p> - -<p>"Well, you is a fool," she would exclaim, with an odd shake of the head.</p> - -<p>"I loves him, and don't kere who knows it."</p> - -<p>"Does he love you?" asked Emily.</p> - -<p>"<i>Well</i>, he doesn't."</p> - -<p>"<i>Then I'd hate him</i>," replied Emily, as, with a great force, she -brought her rolling-pin down on the table.</p> - -<p>"No, I wouldn't," answered the loving Elsy.</p> - -<p>"You ain't worth shucks."</p> - -<p>"Wish I was worth Duke."</p> - -<p>"Hush, fool."</p> - -<p>"You needn't git mad, kase I don't think as you does."</p> - -<p>"I is mad bekase you is a fool."</p> - -<p>"Who made me one?"</p> - -<p>"You was born it, I guess."</p> - -<p>"Then I aren't to blame fur it. Them that made me is."</p> - -<p>Conversations like this were of frequent occurrence, and once, when I -ventured to ask Elsy if she wouldn't like to learn to read, she laughed -heartily, saying:</p> - -<p>"Does you think I wants to run off?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly not."</p> - -<p>"Den why did you ax me if I wanted to larn to read?"</p> - -<p>"So you might have a higher source of enjoyment than you now have."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, so as to try to git my freedom! You is jist a spy fur de white -folks, and wants to know if I'll run away. Go off, now, and mind yer own -business, kase I has hearn my ole Masser, in de country, say dat -whenever niggers 'gan to read books dey was ob no 'count, and allers had -freedom in dar heads."</p> - -<p>Finding her thus obstinate, I gave up all attempts to persuade her, and -left her to that mental obscuration in which I found her. Emily -sometimes threatened to apply herself, with vigor, to the gaining of -knowledge, and thus defeat and "spite" her owners; but knowledge so -obtained, I think, would be of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> little avail, for, like religion, it -must be sought after from higher motives—sought for itself <i>only</i>.</p> - -<p>I could find but little companionship with those around me, and lived -more totally within myself than I had ever done. Many times have I gone -to my room, and in silence wept over the isolation in which my days were -spent; but three nights out of the seven were marked with white stones, -for on these I held blissful re-unions with Henry. Our appointed spot -for meeting was near an old pump, painted green, which was known as the -"green pump," a very favorite one, as the water, pure limestone, was -supposed to be better, cooler, and stronger than that of others. Much -has been written, by our popular authors, on the virtues and legends of -old town pumps, but, to me, this one had a beauty, a charm, a glory -which no other inanimate object in wide creation possessed! And of a -moonlight night, when I descried, at a distance, its friendly handle, -outstretched like an arm of welcome, I have rushed up and grasped it -with a right hearty good feeling! Long time afterwards, when it had -ceased to be a love-beacon to me, I never passed it without taking a -drink from its old, rusty ladle, and the water, like the friendly -draught contained in the magic cup of eastern story, transported me over -the waste of time to poetry and love! Even here I pause to wipe away the -fond, sad tears, which the recollection of that old "green pump" calls -up to my mind, and I should love to go back and stand beside it, and -drink, aye deeply, of its fresh, cool water! There are now many stately -mansions in that growing city, that sits like a fairy queen upon the -shore of the charmed Ohio; but away from all its lofty structures and -edifices of wealth, away from her public haunts, her galleries and -halls, would I turn, to pay homage to the old "green pump"!</p> - -<p>Some quiet evenings, too, had I in Louise's room, listening to Henry -sing, while he played upon his banjo. His voice was fine, full, and -round, and rang out with the clearness of a bell. Though possessed of -but slight cultivation, I considered it the finest one I ever heard.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span></p><p>But again my pleasures were brought to a speedy close. As the winter -began to grow more cold, and the city more dull, the young ladies began -to talk of a jaunt to New Orleans. Their first determination was to -carry me with them; but, after calculating the "cost," they concluded it -was better to go without a servant, and render all necessary toilette -services to each other. They had no false pride—thanks to their -Northern education for that!</p> - -<p>Before their departure they gave quite a large dinner-party, served up -in the most fantastic manner, consisting of six different courses. I -officiated as waiter, assisted by Duke. Owing to the scarcity of -servants in the family, Elsy was forced to attend the door, and render -what assistance she could at the table.</p> - -<p>Whilst they were engaged on the fourth course, a violent ring was heard -at the door-bell, which Elsy was bound to obey.</p> - -<p>In a few moments she returned, saying to one of the guests:</p> - -<p>"Miss Allfield, a lady wishes to speak with you."</p> - -<p>"<i>With me?</i>" interrogated the lady.</p> - -<p>"Yes, marm."</p> - -<p>"Who can she be?" said Miss Allfield, in surprise.</p> - -<p>"Bid the lady be seated in the parlor, and say that Miss Allfield is at -dinner," replied Mrs. Smith.</p> - -<p>"If the company will excuse me, I will attend to this unusual visitor," -said Miss Allfield, as she rose to leave.</p> - -<p>"<i>It is a colored lady</i>, and she is waitin' fur you at the door," put in -Elsy.</p> - -<p>The blank amazement that sat upon the face of each guest, may be better -imagined than described! Some of them were ready to go into convulsions -of laughter. A moment of dead silence reigned around, when Miss Nellie -set the example of a hearty laugh, in which all joined, except Mr. and -Mrs. Smith, whose faces were black as a tempest-cloud.</p> - -<p>But there stood the offending Elsy, all unconscious of her guilt. When -she first came to town, she had been in the habit of announcing company -to the ladies as "a man wants to see<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span> you," or "a woman is in the -parlor," and had, every time, been severely reprimanded, and told that -she should say "a lady or gentleman is in the parlor." And the poor, -green creature, in her great regard for "ears polite," did not know how -to make the distinction between the races; but most certainly was she -taught it by the severe whipping that was administered to her afterwards -by Mr. Smith. No intercession or entreaty from the ladies could be of -any avail. Upon Elsy's bare back must the atonement be made! After this -public whipping, she was held somewhat in disgrace by the other -servants. Duke gave her a very decided cut, and Emily, who had never -liked her, was now lavish in her abuse and ill-treatment. She even -struck the poor, offenceless creature many blows; and from this there -was no redemption, for she was in sad disrepute with Mr. and Mrs. Smith; -and, after the young ladies' departure, she had no friend at all, for I -was too powerless to be of use to her.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * *</p> - -<p>The remainder of the winter was dull indeed. My interviews with Henry -had been discontinued; and I never saw Louise. I had no time for -reading. It was work, work, delve and drudge until my health sank under -it. Mrs. Smith never allowed us any time on Sundays, and the idea of a -negro's going to church was outrageous.</p> - -<p>"No," she replied, when I asked permission to attend church, "stay at -home and do your work. What business have negroes going to church? They -don't understand anything about the sermon."</p> - -<p>Very true, I thought, for the most of them; but who is to blame for -their ignorance? If opportunities for improvement are not allowed them, -assuredly they should not suffer for it.</p> - -<p>How dead and lifeless lay upon my spirit that dull, cold winter! The -snow-storm was without; and ice was within. Constant fault-finding and -ten thousand different forms of domestic persecution well-nigh crushed -the life out of me. Then there was not one break of beauty in my -over-cast sky! No faint<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span> or struggling ray of light to illume the -ice-bound circle that surrounded me!</p> - -<p>But the return of spring began to inspire me with hope; for then I -expected the arrival of my unknown mistress. Henry and Louise both knew -her, and they represented her as possessed of very amiable and -philanthropic views. How eagerly I watched for the coming of the May -blossoms, for then she, too, would come, and I be released from torture! -How dull and drear seemed the howling month of March, and even the -fitful, changeful April. Alternate smiles and tears were wearying to me, -and sure I am, no school-girl elected queen of the virgin month, ever -welcomed its advent with such delight as I!</p> - -<p>With its first day came the young ladies. Right glad was I to see them. -They returned blooming and bright as flowers, with the same gentle -manners and kindly dispositions that they had carried away.</p> - -<p>Miss Nellie had many funny anecdotes to tell of what she had seen and -heard; really it was delightful to hear her talk in that mirth-provoking -manner! In her accounts of Southern dandyisms and fopperies, she drew -forth her father's freest applause.</p> - -<p>"Why, Nellie, you ought to write a book, you would beat Dickens," he -used to say; but her more sober sister and cousin never failed to -reprove her, though gently, for her raillery.</p> - -<p>"Well, Elsy," she cried, when she met that little-respected personage, -"Have any more 'colored ladies' called during our absence?" This was -done in a kind, jocular way; but the poor negro felt it keenly, and held -her head down in mortification.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * *</p> - -<p>At length the second week of the month of May arrived, and with it came -my new mistress! A messenger, no less a person than Henry, was -despatched for me. The time for which I was hired at Mr. Smith's having -expired two weeks previously, I hastily got myself ready, and Henry once -again shouldered my trunk.</p> - -<p>With a feeling of delight, I said farewell to Mrs. Smith and the -servants; but when I bade the young ladies good-bye, I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span> own to the -weakness of shedding tears! I tried to impress upon Miss Adele's mind -the sentiment of love that I cherished for her, and I had the -satisfaction of knowing that she was not too proud to feel an interest -in me.</p> - -<p>All the way to the G—— House, Henry was trying to cheer me up, and -embolden me for the interview with Miss Nancy. I had been looking -anxiously for the time of her arrival, and now I shrank from it. It was -well for my presence of mind that Miss Jane and her husband had returned -to their homestead, for I do not think that I could have breathed freely -in the same house with them, even though their control over me had -ceased.</p> - -<p>Arriving at the G—— House, I had not the courage to venture instantly -into Miss Nancy's presence; but sought refuge, for a few moments, in -Louise's apartment, where she gave me a very <i>cordial</i> reception, and a -delightful beverage compounded of blackberries.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXXVII.</h2> - -<p class="center">THE NEW MISTRESS—HER KINDNESS OF DISPOSITION—A PRETTY HOME—AND -LOVE-INTERVIEWS IN THE SUMMER DAYS.</p> - -<p>At last I contrived to "screw my courage to the sticking-place," and go -to Miss Nancy's room.</p> - -<p>I paused at the closed door before knocking for admission. When I did -knock, I heard a not unpleasant voice say—</p> - -<p>"Come in."</p> - -<p>The tone of that voice re-inspired me, and I boldly entered.</p> - -<p>There, resting upon the bed, was one of the sweetest and most benign -faces that I ever beheld. Age had touched it but to beautify. Serene and -clear, from underneath the broad cap frill shone her mild gray eyes. The -wide brow was calm and white as an ivory tablet, and the lip, like a -faded rose-leaf, hinted the bright hue which it had worn in health. The -cheek, like the lip, was blanched by the hand of disease. "Ah," she -said, as with a slight cough she elevated herself upon the pillow, "it -is you, Ann. You are a little tardy. I have been looking for you for the -last half-hour."</p> - -<p>"I have been in the house some time, Miss Nancy, but had not the courage -to venture into your presence; and yet I have been watching for your -arrival with the greatest anxiety."</p> - -<p>"You must not be afraid of me, child, I am but a sorry invalid, who -will, I fear, often weary and overtax your patience; but you must bear -with me; and, if you are faithful, I will reward you for it. Henry has -told me that you are pretty well educated, and have a pleasant voice for -reading. This delights me much; for your principal occupation will be to -read to me."</p> - -<p>Certainly this pleased me greatly, for I saw at once that I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span> was removed -from the stultifying influences which had so long been exercised over my -mind. Now I should find literary food to supply my craving. My eyes -fairly sparkled, as I answered,</p> - -<p>"This is what I have long desired, Miss Nancy; and you have assigned to -me the position I most covet."</p> - -<p>"I am glad I have pleased you, child. It is my pleasure to gratify -others. Our lives are short, at best, and he or she only lives <i>truly</i> -who does the most good."</p> - -<p>This was a style and manner of talk that charmed me. Beautiful example -and type of womankind! I felt like doing reverence to her.</p> - -<p>She reached her thin hand out to help herself to a glass of water, that -stood on a stand near by. I sprang forward to relieve her.</p> - -<p>"Ah, thank you," she said, in a most bland tone; "I am very weak; the -slightest movement convinces me of the failure of my strength."</p> - -<p>I begged that she would not exert herself, but always call on me for -everything that she needed.</p> - -<p>"I came here to serve you, and I assure you, my dear Miss Nancy, I shall -be most happy in doing it. Mine will, I believe, truly be a 'labor of -love.'"</p> - -<p>Another sweet smile, with the gilded light of a sunbeam, broke over her -calm, sweet face! Bless her! she and all of her class should be held as -"blessed among women;" for do they not walk with meek and reverent -footsteps in the path of her, the great model and prototype of all the -sex?</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * *</p> - -<p>When I had been with her but a few days, she informed me that, as soon -as her health permitted, she intended being removed to her house on -Walnut street. I was not particularly anxious for this; for my sojourn -at the G—— House was perfectly delightful. My frequent intercourse -with Henry and Louise, was a source of intense pleasure to me. I was -allowed to pass the evenings with them. Truly were those hours dear and -bright. Henry played upon his banjo, and sang to us the most<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span> -enrapturing songs, airs and glees; and Louise generally supplied us with -cakes and lemonade! How exquisite was my happiness, as there we sat upon -the little balcony gazing at the Indiana shore, and talking of the time -when Henry and I should be free.</p> - -<p>"How much remains to be paid to your master, Henry," asked Louise.</p> - -<p>"I have paid all but three hundred and fifty; one hundred of which I -already have; so, in point of fact, I lack only two hundred and fifty," -said Henry.</p> - -<p>"I am very anxious to leave here this fall. I wish to go to Montreal. -Now, if you could make your arrangements to go on with me, I should be -glad. I shall require the services and attentions of a man; and, if you -have not realized the money by that time, I think I can lend it to you," -returned Louise.</p> - -<p>A bright light shone in Henry's eye, as he returned his thanks; but -quickly the coming shadow banished that radiance of joy.</p> - -<p>"But think of her," he said tenderly, laying his hand on my shoulder; -"what can she do without us, or what should I be without her?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, think not of me, dearest, I have a good home, and am well cared -for. Go, and as soon as you can, make the money, and come back for me."</p> - -<p>"Live years away from you? Oh, no, no!" and he wound his arm around my -waist, and, most naturally, my head rested upon his shoulder. Loud and -heavy was his breathing, and I knew that a fierce struggle was raging in -his breast.</p> - -<p>"I will never leave her, Louise," he at length replied. "That tyrant, -the law, may part us; but, my free will and act—<i>never</i>."</p> - -<p>"Ah, well," added she, as she looked upon us, "you will think better of -this after you give it a little reflection. This is only love's -delusion;" and, in her own quiet, sensible way, she turned the stream of -conversation into another channel.</p> - -<p>I think now, with pleasure, of the lovely scenes I enjoyed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span> on those -evenings, with the fire-flies playing in the air; and many times have I -thought how beautifully and truly they typify the illusive glancings of -hope darting here and there with their fire-lit wings; eluding our -grasp, and sparkling e'en as they flit.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * *</p> - -<p>A few weeks after my installation in the new office, my mistress, whose -health had been improving under my nursing, began to get ready to move -to her sweet little cottage residence on Walnut street. I was not -anxious for the change, notwithstanding it gave me many local -advantages; for I should be removed from Henry, and though I knew that I -could see him often, yet the same roof would not cover us. But my life, -hitherto, had been too dark and oppressed for me to pause and mourn over -the "crumpled rose-leaf;" and so, with right hearty good will I set to -work "packing Miss Nancy's trunk," and gathering up her little articles -that had lain scattered about the room.</p> - -<p>An upholsterer had been sent out to get the house ready for us. When we -were on the eve of starting, Henry came to carry the luggage, and Miss -Nancy paid him seventy-five cents, at which he took off his hat, made a -low bow, and said,</p> - -<p>"Thank you, Missis."</p> - -<p>Miss Nancy was seated on the most comfortable cushion, and I directly -opposite, fanning her.</p> - -<p>We drove up to the house, a neat little brick cottage, painted white, -with green shutters, and a deep yard in front, thickly swarded, with a -variety of flowers, and a few forest trees. Beautiful exotics, in rare -plaster, and stone vases, stood about in the yard, and a fine cast-iron -watch-dog slept upon the front steps. Passing through the broad hall, -you had a fine view of the grounds beyond, which were handsomely -decorated. The out-buildings were all neatly painted or white-washed. A -thorough air of neatness presided over the place. On the right of the -hall was the parlor, furnished in the very perfection of taste and -simplicity.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span></p><p>The carpet was of blue, bespeckled with yellow; a sofa of blue -brocatelle, chairs, and ottomans of the same material, were scattered -about. A cabinet stood over in the left corner, filled with the -collections and curiosities of many years' gathering, whilst the long -blue curtains, with festoonings of lace, swept to the floor! Adjoining -the parlor was the dining-room, with its oaken walls, and cane-colored -floor-cloth. Opposite to the parlor, and fronting the street, was Miss -Nancy's room, with its French bedstead, lounge, bureau, bookcase, table, -and all the et ceteras of comfort. Opening out from her room was a small -apartment, just large enough to contain a bed, chair, and wardrobe, with -a cheap little mirror overhanging a tasteful dresser, whereon were laid -a comb, brush, soap, basin, pitcher, &c. This room had been prepared for -me by my kind mistress. Pointing it out, she said,</p> - -<p>"That, Ann, is your <i>castle</i>." I could not restrain my tears.</p> - -<p>"Heaven send me grace to prove my gratitude to you, kind Miss Nancy," I -sobbed out.</p> - -<p>"Why, my poor girl, I deserve no thanks for the performance of my duty. -You are a human being, my good, attentive nurse, and I am bound to -consider your comfort or prove unworthy of my avowed principles."</p> - -<p>"This is so unlike what I have been used to, Miss Nancy, that it excites -my wonder as well as gratitude."</p> - -<p>"I fear, poor child, that you have served in a school of rough -experience! You are so thoroughly disciplined, that, at times, you -excite my keenest pity."</p> - -<p>"Yes, ma'm, I have had all sorts of trouble. The only marvel is that I -am not utterly brutalized."</p> - -<p>"Some time you must tell me your history; but not now, my nerves are too -unquiet to listen to an account so harrowing as I know your recital must -be."</p> - -<p>As I adjusted the pillow and arranged the beautiful silk spread (her own -manufacture), I observed that her eyes were filled with tears. I said -nothing, but the sight of <i>those tears</i> served to soften many a painful -recollection of former years.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span></p><p>I am conscious, in writing these pages, that there will be few of my -white readers who can enter fully into my feelings. It is impossible for -them to know how deeply the slightest act of kindness impressed -<i>me</i>—how even a word or tone gently spoken called up all my -thankfulness! Those to whom kindness is common, a mere household -article, whose ears are greeted morning, noon and night, with loving -sounds and kind tones, will deem this strange and exaggerated; but, let -them recollect that I was a <i>slave</i>—not a mere servant, but a perpetual -slave, according to the abhorred code of Kentucky; and their wonder will -cease.</p> - -<p>The first night that I threw myself down on my bed to sleep (did I state -that I had a bedstead—that I had <i>actually</i> what slaves deemed a great -luxury—a <i>high-post bedstead</i>?) I felt as proud as a queen. Henry had -been to see me. I entertained him in a nice, clean, carpeted kitchen, -until a few minutes of ten o'clock, when he left me; for at that hour, -by the city ordinance, he was obliged to be at home.</p> - -<p>"What," I thought, "have I now to desire? Like the weary dove sent out -from the ark, I have at last found land, peace and safety. Here I can -rest contentedly beneath the waving of the olive branches that guard the -sacred portal of <i>home!</i>" <i>Home!</i> home this truly was! A home where the -heart would always love to lurk; and how blessed seemed the word to me, -now that I comprehended its practical significance! No more was it a -fable, an expression merely used to adorn a song or round a verse!</p> - -<p>That first night that I spent at home was not given up to sleep. No, I -was too happy for that! Through the long, mysterious hours, I lay -wakeful on my soft and pleasant pillow, weaving fairest fancies from the -dim chaos of happy hopes. Adown the sloping vista of the future I -descried nought but shade and flowers!</p> - -<p>With my new mistress, I was more like a companion than a servant. My -duties were light—merely to read to her, nurse her, and do her sewing; -and, as she had very little of the latter,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span> I may as well set it down as -the "extras" of my business, rather than the business itself.</p> - -<p>I rose every morning, winter and summer, at five o'clock, and arranged -Miss Nancy's room whilst she slept; and, so accustomed had she become to -my light tread, that she slept as soundly as though no one had been -stirring. After this was done, I placed the family Bible upon a stand -beside her bed; then took my sewing and seated myself at the window, -until she awoke. Then I assisted her in making her morning toilette, -which was very simple; wheeled the easy chair near the bed, and helped -her into it. After which she read a chapter from the holy book, followed -by a beautiful, extemporaneous prayer, in which we were joined by Biddy, -the Irish cook. After this, Miss Nancy's breakfast was brought in on a -large silver tray,—a breakfast consisting of black tea, Graham bread, -and mutton chop. In her appetite, as in her character, she was simple. -After this was over, Biddy and I breakfasted in the kitchen. Our fare -was scarcely so plain, for hearty constitutions made us averse to the -abstemiousness of our mistress. We had hot coffee, steaming steaks, -omelettes and warm biscuits.</p> - -<p>"Ah, but she is a love of a lady!" exclaimed Biddy, as she ate away -heartily at these luxuries. "Where in this city would we find such a -mistress, that allows the servants better fare than she takes herself? -And then she never kapes me from church. I can attend the holy mass, and -even go to vespers every Sunday of my life. The Lord have her soul for -it! But she is as good as a canonized saint, if she is a Protestant!"</p> - -<p>Sometimes I used to repeat these conversations to Miss Nancy. They never -failed to amuse her greatly.</p> - -<p>"Poor Biddy," she would say, in a quiet way, with a sweet smile, "ought -to know that true religion is the same in all. It is not the being a -member of a particular church, or believing certain dogmas of faith, -that make us religious, heirs of God, and joint heirs with Christ. It is -the living religion, not the simple believing of it, that constitutes us -<i>Christians</i>. We must feel that all men are our brothers, and all women -our sisters;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span> for in the kingdom of heaven there will be no distinction -of race or color, and I see no reason why we should live differently -here. The Saviour of the world associated with the humblest. His chosen -twelve were the fishermen of Galilee. I want to live in constant -preparation for death; but, alas! my weak endeavor is but seldom crowned -with success."</p> - -<p>How reverently I looked upon her at such times! What a beautiful saint -she was!</p> - -<p>One evening in the leafy month of June, when the intensity of summer -begins to make itself felt, I took my little basket, filled with some -ruffling that I was embroidering for Miss Nancy's wrapper, and seated -myself upon the little portico at the back of the house. I had been -reading to her the greater portion of the day, and felt that it was -pleasant to be left in an indolent, dreamy state of mind, that required -no concentration of thought. As my fingers moved lazily along, I was -humming an old air, that I had heard in far less happy days. Everything -around me was so pleasant! The setting sun was flinging floods of glory -over the earth, and the young moon was out upon her new wing, softening -and beautifying the scene. Afar off, the lull of pleasant waters and the -music-roar of the falls sounded dreamily in my ear! I laid my work down -in the basket, and, with closed eyes, thought over the events and -incidents of my past life of suffering; and, as the dreary picture of my -troubles at Mr. Peterkin's returned to my mind, and my subsequent -imprisonment in the city, my trials at "the pen," and then this my safe -harbor and haven of rest, so strange the whole seemed, that I almost -doubted the reality, and feared to open my eyes, lest the kindly, -illusive dream should be broken forever. But no, it was no dream; for, -upon turning my head, I spied through the unclosed door of the -dining-room the careful arrangement of the tea-table. There it stood, -with its snowy cover, upon which were placed the fresh loaf of Graham -bread, the roll of sweet butter, some parings of cheese, the glass bowl -of fruit and pitcher of cream, together with the friendly tea-urn of -bright silver, from which I, even <i>I</i>, had often been supplied with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span> -delightful beverage. And then, stepping through the door, with a calm -smile on her face, was Miss Nancy herself! How beautifully she looked in -her white, dimity wrapper, with the pretty blue girdle, and tiny lace -cap! She gazed out upon the yard, with the blooming roses, French pinks, -and Colombines that grew in luxuriance. Stepping upon the sward, she -gathered a handful of flowers, clipping them nicely from the bush with a -pair of scissors, that she wore suspended by a chain to her side. Seeing -me on the portico, she said,</p> - -<p>"Ann, bring me my basket and thread here, and wheel my arm-chair out; I -wish to sit with you here."</p> - -<p>I obeyed her with pleasure, for I always liked to have her near me. She -was so much more the friend than the mistress, that I never felt any -reserve in her presence. All was love. As she took her seat in the -arm-chair, I threw a shawl over her shoulders to protect her from any -injurious influence of the evening air. She busied herself tying up the -flowers; and their arrangement of color, &c., with a view to effect, -would have done credit to a florist. My admiration was so much excited, -that I could not deny myself the pleasure of an expression of it.</p> - -<p>"Ah, yes," she answered, "this was one of the amusements of my youth. -Many a bouquet have I tied up in my dear old home."</p> - -<p>I thought I detected a change in her color, and heard a sigh, as she -said this.</p> - -<p>"Of what State are you a native, Miss Nancy?"</p> - -<p>"Dear old Massachusetts," she answered, with a glow of enthusiasm.</p> - -<p>"It is the State, of all others in the Union, for which I have the most -respect."</p> - -<p>"Ah, well may you say that, poor girl," she replied, "for its people -treat your unfortunate race with more humanity than any of the others."</p> - -<p>"I have read a great deal of their liberality and cultivation, of both -mind and heart, which has excited my admiring interest. Then, too, I -have known those born and reared beneath the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span> shadow of its wise and -beneficent laws, and the better I knew them, the more did my admiration -for the State increase. Now I feel that Massachusetts is doubly dear to -me, since I have learned that it is your birth-place."</p> - -<p>She did not say anything, but her mild eyes were suffused with tears.</p> - -<p>Just as I was about to speak to her of Mr. Trueman, Biddy came to -announce tea, and, after that, Miss Nancy desired to be left alone. As -was his custom, with eight o'clock came Henry. We sat out on the -portico, with the moonlight shining over us, and talked of the future! I -told him what Miss Nancy said of Massachusetts, and, I believe, he was -seized with the idea of going thither after purchasing himself.</p> - -<p>He was unusually cheerful. He had made a great deal in the last few -months; had grown to be quite a favorite with the keeper of the hotel, -and was liberally paid for his Sunday and holiday labors, and, by -errands for, and donations from, the boarders, had contrived to lay up a -considerable sum.</p> - -<p>"I hope, dearest, to be able soon to accomplish my freedom; then I shall -be ready to buy you. How much does Miss Nancy ask for you?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, Henry, I cannot leave her, even if I were able to pay down every -cent that she demands for me. I should dislike to go away from her. She -is so kind and good; has been such a friend to me that I could not -desert her. Who would nurse her? Who would feel the same interest in her -that I do? No, I will stay with her as long as she lives, and do all I -can to prove my gratitude."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean, Ann? Would you refuse to make me happy? Miss Nancy -has other friends who would wait upon her."</p> - -<p>"But, Henry, that does not release me from my obligation. When she was -on the eve of starting upon a journey, you went to her with the story of -my danger. She promptly consented to buy me without even seeing me. I -was not purchased as an article of property; with the noble liberality -of a philanthropist,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span> she ransomed, at a heavy price, a suffering -sister, and shall I be such an ingrate as to leave her? No, she and Mr. -Trueman of Boston, are the two beings whom I would willingly serve -forever."</p> - -<p>Just then a deep sigh burst from the full heart of some one, and I -thought I heard a retreating footstep.</p> - -<p>"Who can that have been?" asked Henry.</p> - -<p>We examined the hall, the dining-room, my apartment; and I knocked at -Miss Nancy's door, but, receiving no answer, I judged she was asleep.</p> - -<p>"It was but one of those peculiar voices of the night, which are the -better heard from this intense silence," said Henry, and, finding that -my alarm was quieted, he bade me an affectionate good-night, and so we parted.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXXVIII.</h2> - -<p class="center">AN AWFUL REVELATION—MORE CLOUDS TO DARKEN THE SUN OF LIFE—SICKNESS AND -BLESSED INSENSIBILITY.</p> - -<p>I slept uninterruptedly that night, and, on awaking in the morning, I -was surprised to find it ten minutes past five. Hurrying on my clothes, -I went to Miss Nancy's apartment, and was much surprised to find her -sitting in her easy chair, her toilette made. Looking up from the Bible, -which lay open on the stand before her, she said,</p> - -<p>"I have stolen a march, Ann, and have risen before you."</p> - -<p>"Yes, ma'm," replied I, in a mortified tone, "I am ten minutes behind -the time; I am very sorry, and hope you will excuse me."</p> - -<p>"No apologies, now; I hope you do not take me for a cruel, exacting -task-mistress, who requires every inch of your time."</p> - -<p>"No, indeed, I do not, for I know you to be the kindest mistress and -best friend in the world."</p> - -<p>"And now, Ann, I will read some from the Lamentations of Jeremiah; and -we will unite in family prayer."</p> - -<p>At the ringing of the little bell Biddy quickly appeared, and we seated -ourselves near Miss Nancy, and listened to her beautiful voice as it -broke forth in the plaintive eloquence of the holy prophet!</p> - -<p>"Let us pray," she said, fervently, extending her thin, white hands -upward, and we all sank upon our knees. She prayed for grace to rest on -the household; for its extension over the world; that it might visit the -dark land of the South; that the blood of Christ might soften the hearts -of slave-holders. She asked, in a special manner, for power to carry out -her good intentions; prayed that the blessing of God might be given to -me, in a particular manner, to enable me to meet the trials of life, and -invoked benedictions upon Biddy.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span></p><p>When we rose, both Biddy and I were weeping; and as we left her, Biddy -broke forth in all her Irish enthusiasm, "The Lord love her heart! but -she is sanctified! I never heard a prettier <i>prayer said in the -Cathedral</i>!"</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * *</p> - -<p>Miss Nancy's health improved a great deal. She began to walk of evenings -through the yard, and a little in the city. I always attended her. Of -mornings we rode in a carriage that she hired for the occasion, and of -evenings Henry came, and always brought with him his banjo.</p> - -<p>One evening he and Louise came round to sit with me, and after we had -been out upon the portico listening to Henry's songs, Miss Nancy bade me -go to the sideboard and get some cake and wine. Placing it on the table -in the dining-room, I invited them, in Miss Nancy's name, to come in and -partake of it. After proposing the health of my kind Mistress, to which -we all drank, Biddy joining in, Louise pledged a glass to the speedy -ransom of Henry. Just then Miss Nancy entered, saying:</p> - -<p>"My good Henry, when you buy yourself, and find a home in the North, -write us word where you have established yourself, and I will -immediately make out Ann's free papers, and remove thither; but I cannot -think of losing my good nurse. So, for her's, your's and my own -convenience, I will take up my residence wherever you may settle. Stop -now, Ann, no thanks; I know all about your gratitude, for I was a -pleased, though unintentional listener to a conversation between -yourself and Henry, in which I found out how deep is your attachment to -me."</p> - -<p>Hers, then, was the sigh which had so alarmed me! It was all explained. -I had no words to express my overflowing heart. My whole soul seemed -melted. Henry's eyes were filled with grateful tears. He sank upon his -knees and kissed the hem of Miss Nancy's dress.</p> - -<p>"No, no, my brave-hearted man, do not kneel to me. I am but the humble -instrument under Heaven; and, oh, how often<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span> have I prayed for such an -opportunity as this to do good, and dispense happiness."</p> - -<p>And so saying she glided out of the room.</p> - -<p>"Well," exclaimed Biddy, "she is more than a saint, she is an angel," -and she wiped the tears from her honest eyes.</p> - -<p>"I have known her for some time," said Louise, "and never saw her do, or -heard of her doing a wrong action. She is very different from her -brother. Does he come here often, Ann?"</p> - -<p>"Not often; about once a fortnight."</p> - -<p>"He is too much taken up with business; hasn't a thought outside of his -counting-room. He doesn't share in any of her philanthropic ideas."</p> - -<p>"She hasn't her equal on earth," added Henry. "Mr. Moodwell is a good -man, though not good enough to be <i>her</i> brother."</p> - -<p>Thus passed away the evening, until the near approach of ten o'clock -warned them to leave.</p> - -<p>I was too happy for sleep. Many a wakeful night had I passed from -unhappiness, but now I was sleepless from joy.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * *</p> - -<p>The next morning, after Miss Nancy had breakfasted, I asked her what I -should read to her.</p> - -<p>"Nothing this morning, Ann. I had rather you would talk with me. Let us -arrange for the future; but first tell me how much money does Henry lack -to buy himself?"</p> - -<p>"About one hundred dollars."</p> - -<p>"I think I can help him to make that up."</p> - -<p>"You have already done enough, dear Miss Nancy. We could not ask more of -you."</p> - -<p>"No, but I am anxious to do all I can for you, my good girl. You are -losing the greenest part of your lives. I feel that it is wrong for you -to remain thus."</p> - -<p>Seeing that I was in an unusually calm mood, she asked me to tell her -the story of my life, or at least the main incidents. I entered upon the -narrative with the same fidelity that I have observed in writing these -memoirs. At many points and scenes I observed her weeping bitterly. -Fearing that the excitement<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span> might prove too great for her strength, I -several times urged her to let me stop; but she begged me to go on -without heeding her, for she was deeply interested.</p> - -<p>When I came to the account of my meeting with Mr. Trueman, she bent -eagerly forward, and asked if it was Justinian Trueman, of Boston. Upon -my answering in the affirmative, she exclaimed:</p> - -<p>"How like him! The same noble, generous, disinterested spirit!"</p> - -<p>"Do you know him, Miss Nancy?"</p> - -<p>"Oh yes, child, he is one of our prominent Northern men, a very able -lawyer; every one in the State of Massachusetts knows him by reputation, -but I have a personal acquaintance also."</p> - -<p>Just as I was about to ask her something of Mr. Trueman's history, Biddy -came running in, exclaiming:</p> - -<p>"Oh, dear me! Miss Nancy! what do you think? They say that Mr. Barkoff, -the green grocer, has let his wife whip a colored woman to death."</p> - -<p>"Oh, it can't be true," cried Miss Nancy, as she started up from her -chair. "It is, I trust, some slanderous piece of gossip."</p> - -<p>"Oh, the Lord love your saintly heart, but I do believe 'tis true, for, -as I went down the street to market, I heard some awful screaming in -there, and I asked a girl, standing on the pavement, what it meant; and -she said Mrs. Barkoff was whipping a colored woman; then, when I came -back there was a crowd of children and colored people round the back -gate, and one of them told me the woman was dead, and that she died -shouting."</p> - -<p>"Oh, God, how fearful is this!" exclaimed Miss Nancy, as the big tears -rolled down her pale cheeks. "Give me, oh, sweet Jesus, the power to -pray as Thou didst, to the Eternal Father, 'to forgive them, for they -know not what they do!'"</p> - -<p>"Come, Ann," continued the impetuous Biddy, "you go with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span> me, and we'll -try to find out all about it. We will go to see the woman."</p> - -<p>"I cannot leave Miss Nancy."</p> - -<p>"Yes, go with her, Ann; but don't allow her to say anything imprudent. -Poor Biddy has such a good, philanthropic heart, that she forgets the -patient spirit which Christianity inculcates."</p> - -<p>With a strange kind of awe, I followed Biddy through the streets, -scarcely heeding her impassioned garrulity. The blood seemed freezing in -my veins, and my teeth chattered as though it had been the depth of -winter. As we drew near the place, I knew the house by the crowd that -had gathered around the back and side gates.</p> - -<p>"Let us enter here," said Biddy, as she placed her hand upon the heavy -plank gate at the back of the lot.</p> - -<p>"Stop, Biddy, stop," I gasped out, as I held on to the gate for support, -"I feel that I shall suffocate. Give me one moment to get my breath."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Ann, you are only frightened," and she led me into the yard, where -we found about a dozen persons, mostly colored.</p> - -<p>"Where is the woman that's been kilt?" inquired Biddy, of a mulatto -girl.</p> - -<p>"She ain't quite dead. Pity she isn't out of her misery, poor soul," -said the mulatto girl.</p> - -<p>"But where is she?" demanded Biddy.</p> - -<p>"Oh, in thar, the first room in the basement," and, half-led by Biddy, I -passed in through a mean, damp, musty basement. The noxious atmosphere -almost stifled us. Turning to the left as directed, we entered a low, -comfortless room, with brick walls and floor. Upon a pile of straw, in -this wretched place, lay a bleeding, torn, mangled body, with scarcely -life in it. Two colored women were bathing the wounds and wrapping -greased cloths round the body. I listened to her pitiful groans, until I -thought my forbearance would fail me.</p> - -<p>"Poor soul!" said one of the colored women, "she has had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span> a mighty bad -convulsion. I wish she could die and be sot free from misery."</p> - -<p>"Whar is de white folks?" asked another.</p> - -<p>"Oh, dey is skeered, an' done run off an' hid up stairs."</p> - -<p>"Who done it?"</p> - -<p>"Why, Miss Barkoff; she put Aunt Kaisy to clean de harth, an' you see, -de poor ole critter had a broken arm. De white folks broke it once when -dey was beatin' of her, and so she couldn't work fast. Well den, too, -she'd been right sick for long time. You see she was right sickly like, -an' when Miss Barkoff come back—she'd only bin gone a little while—an' -see'd dat de harth wasn't done, she fell to beatin' of de poor ole sick -critter, an' den bekase she cried an' hollered, she tuck her into de -coal-house, gagged her mouth, tied her hands an' feet, an' fell to -beatin' of her, an' she beat her till she got tired, den ole Barkoff -beat her till he got satisfied. Den some colored person seed him, an' -tole him dat he better stop, for Aunt Kaisy was most gone."</p> - -<p>"Yes, 'twas me," said the other woman, "I was passin' 'long at de back -of de lot, an' I hearn a mighty quare noise, so I jist looked through -the crack, an' there I seed him a beatin' of her, an' I hollered to him -to stop, for de Lor' sake, or she would die right dar. Den he got -skeered an' run off in de house."</p> - -<p>The narration was here interrupted by a fearful groan from the sufferer. -One of the women very gently turned her over, with her face full toward -me.</p> - -<p>Oh, God have mercy on me! In those worn, bruised anguish-marked -features, in the glance of that failing, filmy eye, I recognized my -long-lost mother! With one loud shriek I fell down beside her! After -years of bitter separation, thus to meet! Oh that the recollection had -faded from my mind, but no, that awful sight is ever before my eyes! I -see her, even now, as there she lay bleeding to death! Oh that I had -been spared the knowledge of it!</p> - -<p>There was the same mark upon the brow, and, I suppose,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span> more by that -than the remembered features, was I enabled to identify her.</p> - -<p>My frantic screams soon drew a crowd of persons to the room.</p> - -<p>My mother, my dear, suffering mother, unclosed her eyes, and, by that -peculiar mesmerism belonging to all mothers, she knew it was her child -whose arms were around her.</p> - -<p>"Ann, is it you?" she asked feebly.</p> - -<p>"Yes, mother, it is I; but, oh, how do I find you!"</p> - -<p>"Never mind me, child, I feel that I shall soon be at peace! 'Tis for -you that I am anxious. Have you a good home?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; oh, that you had had such!"</p> - -<p>"Thank God for that. You are a woman now, I think; but I am growing -blind, or it is getting dark so fast that I cannot see you. Here, here, -hold me Ann, child, hold me close to you, I am going through the floor, -sinking, sinking down. Catch me, catch me, hold me! It is dark; I can't -see you, where, where are you?"</p> - -<p>"Here, mother, here, I am close to you."</p> - -<p>"Where, child, I can't see you; here catch me;" and, suddenly springing -up as if to grasp something, she fell back upon the straw——<i>a corpse</i>!</p> - -<p>After such a separation, this was our meeting—and parting! I had hoped -that life's bitterest drop had been tasted, but this was as "vinegar -upon nitre."</p> - -<p>When I became conscious that the last spark of life was extinct in that -beloved body, I gave myself up to the most delirious grief. As I looked -upon that horrid, ghastly, mangled form, and thought it was my mother, -who had been butchered by the whites, my very blood was turned to gall, -and in this chaos of mind I lost the faculty of reason.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * * * *</p> - -<p>When my consciousness returned I was lying on a bed in my room, the -blinds of which were closed, and Miss Nancy was seated beside me, -rubbing my hands with camphor. As I opened my eyes, they met her kind -glance fixed earnestly upon me.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span></p><p>"You are better, Ann," she said, in a low, gentle voice. I was too -languid to reply; but closed my eyes again, with a faint smile. When I -once more opened them I was alone, and through one shutter that had -blown open, a bright ray of sunlight stole, and revealed to me the care -and taste with which my room had been arranged. Fresh flowers in neat -little vases adorned the mantel; and the cage, containing Miss Nancy's -favorite canary, had been removed to my room. The music of this -delightful songster broke gratefully upon my slowly awakening faculties. -I rose from the bed, and seated myself in the large arm-chair. Passing -my hand across my eyes, I attempted to recall the painful incidents of -the last few days; and as that wretched death-bed rose upon my memory, -the scalding tears rushed to my eyes, and I wept long, long, as though -my head were turned to waters!</p> - -<p>Miss Nancy entered, and finding me in tears she said nothing; but turned -and left the room. Shortly after, Biddy appeared with some nourishment,</p> - -<p>"Laws, Ann, but you have been dreadfully sick. You had fever, and talked -out of your head. Henry was here every evening. He said that once afore, -when you took the fevers, you was out of your head, just the same way. -He brought you flowers; there they are in the vase," and she handed me -two beautiful bouquets.</p> - -<p>In this pleasant way she talked on until I had satisfied the cravings of -an empty stomach with the niceties she had brought me.</p> - -<p>That evening Henry came, and remained with me about half an hour. Miss -Nancy warned him that it was not well to excite me much. So with -considerable reluctance he shortened his visit.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXXVIX.</h2> - -<p class="center">GRADUAL RETURN OF HAPPY SPIRITS—BRIGHTER PROSPECTS—AN OLD -ACQUAINTANCE.</p> - -<p>When I began to gain strength Miss Nancy took me out in a carriage of -evenings; and had it not been for the melancholy recollections that hung -like a pall around my heart, life would have been beautiful to me. As we -drove slowly through the brightly-lighted streets, and looked in at the -gaudy and flaunting windows, where the gayest and most elegant articles -of merchandise were exhibited, I remarked to Miss Nancy, with a sigh, -"Life might be made a very gay and cheerful thing—almost a pleasure, -were it not for the wickedness of men."</p> - -<p>"Ah, yes, it might, indeed," she replied, and the big tears rested upon -her eyelids.</p> - -<p>One evening when we had returned from a drive, I noticed that she ate -very little supper, and her hand trembled violently.</p> - -<p>"You are sick, Miss Nancy," I said.</p> - -<p>"Yes, Ann, I feel strangely," she replied.</p> - -<p>"To-morrow you must go for my brother, and I will have a lawyer to draw -up my will. It would be dreadful if I were to die suddenly without -making a provision for you; then the bonds of slavery would be riveted -upon you, for by law you would pass into my brother's possession."</p> - -<p>"Don't trouble yourself about it now, dear Miss Nancy," I said; "your -life is more precious than my liberty."</p> - -<p>"Not so, my good girl. The dawn of your life was dark, I hope that the -close may be bright. The beginning of mine<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span> was full of flowers; the -close will be serene, I trust; but ah, I've outlived many a blessed hope -that was a very rainbow in my dreaming years."</p> - -<p>I had always thought Miss Nancy's early life had been filled with -trouble; else why and whence her strange, subdued, melancholy nature! -How much I would have given had she told me her history; yet I would not -add to her sadness by asking her to tell me of it.</p> - -<p>The next morning I went for Mr. Moodwell, who, at Miss Nancy's instance, -summoned a notary. The will was drawn up and witnessed by two competent -persons.</p> - -<p>After this she began to improve rapidly. Her strength of body and -cheerfulness returned. About this time my peace of mind began to be -restored. Of my poor mother I never spoke, after hearing the particulars -that followed her death. She was hurriedly buried, without psalm or -sermon. No notice was taken by the citizens of her murder—why should -there be? She was but a poor slave, grown old and gray in the service of -the white man; and if her master chose to whip her to death, who had a -right to gainsay him? She was his property to have and to hold; to use -or to kill, as he thought best!</p> - -<p>Give us no more Fourth of July celebrations; the rather let us have a -Venetian oligarchy!</p> - -<p>Miss Nancy, in her kind, persuasive manner, soon lured my thoughts away -from such gloomy contemplations. She sought to point out the pleasant, -easy pathway of wisdom and religion, and I thank her now for the good -lessons she then taught me! Beneath such influence I gradually grew -reconciled to my troubles. Miss Nancy fervently prayed that they might -be sanctified to my eternal good; and so may they!</p> - -<p>Louise came often to see me, and I found her then as now, the kindest -and most willing friend; everything that she could do to please me she -did. She brought me many gifts of books, flowers, fruits, &c. I may have -been petulant and selfish in my grief; but those generous friends bore -patiently with me.</p> - -<p>Pleasant walks I used to take with Henry of evenings, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span> he was then -so full of hope, for he had almost realized the sum of money that his -master required of him.</p> - -<p>"Master will be down early in September," he said, as we strolled along -one evening in August, "and I think by borrowing a little from Miss -Nancy, I shall be able to pay down all that I owe him, and then, -dearest, I shall be free—free! only think of it! Of <i>me</i> being a free -man, master of <i>myself</i>! and when we go to the North we will be married, -and both of us will live with Miss Nancy, and guard her declining days."</p> - -<p>Happy tears were shining in his bright eyes, like dew-pearls; but, with -a strong, manly hand he dashed them away, and I clung the fonder to that -arm, that I hoped would soon be able to protect me.</p> - -<p>"There is one foolish little matter, dearest, that I will mention, more -to excite your merriment, than fear," said Henry with an odd smile.</p> - -<p>"What is it?"</p> - -<p>"Well, promise me not to care about it; only let it give you a good -laugh."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I promise."</p> - -<p>"Well," and he paused for a moment, "there is a girl living near the -G—— House. She belongs to Mr. Bodley, and has taken a foolish fancy to -me; has actually made advances, even more than advances, actual offers -of love! She says she used to know you, and, on one occasion, attempted -to speak discreditably of you; though I quickly gave her to understand -that I would not listen to it. Why do you tremble so, Ann?"</p> - -<p>And truly I trembled so violently, that if it had not been for the -support that his arm afforded me, I should have fallen to the ground.</p> - -<p>"What is her name?" I asked.</p> - -<p>"Melinda, and says she once belonged to Mr. Peterkin."</p> - -<p>"Yes, she did. We used to call her Lindy."</p> - -<p>I then told him what an evil spirit she had been in my path; and -ventured to utter a suspicion that her work of harm was yet unfinished, -that she meant me further injury.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span></p><p>"I know her now, dearest. You have unmasked her, and, with me, she can -have no possible power."</p> - -<p>I seemed to be satisfied, though in reality I was not, for apprehension -of an indefinable something troubled me sorely. The next day Miss Nancy -observed my troubled abstraction, and inquired the cause, with so much -earnestness, that I could not withhold my confidence, and gave her a -full account.</p> - -<p>"And you think she will do you an injury?"</p> - -<p>"I fear so."</p> - -<p>"But have you not forestalled that by telling Henry who she is, and how -she has acted toward you?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, ma'm, and have been assured by him that she can do me no harm; but -the dread remains."</p> - -<p>"Oh, you are in a weak, nervous state; I am astonished at Henry for -telling you such a thing at this time."</p> - -<p>"He thought, ma'm, that it would amuse me, as a fine joke; and so I -supposed I should have enjoyed it."</p> - -<p>She did all she could to divert my thoughts, made Henry bring his banjo, -and play for me of evenings; bought pleasant romances for me to read; -ordered a carriage for a daily ride; purchased me many pretty articles -of apparel; but, most of all, I appreciated her kind and cheerful talk, -in which she strove to beguile me from everything gloomy or sad.</p> - -<p>Once she sent me down to spend the day with Louise at the G—— House. -There was quite a crowd at the hotel. Southerners, who had come up to -pass their summer at the watering-places in Kentucky, had stopped here, -and, finding comfortable lodgment, preferred it to the springs; then -there were many others travelling to the North and East <i>via</i> L——, who -were stopping there. This increased Henry's duties, so that I saw him -but seldom during the day. Once or twice he came to Louise's room, and -told me that he was unusually busy; but that he had earned four dollars -that day, from different persons, in small change, and that he would be -able to make his final payment the next month.</p> - -<p>All this was very encouraging, and I was in unusually fine<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span> spirits. As -Louise and I sat talking in the afternoon, she remarked—</p> - -<p>"Well, Ann, early next month Henry will make his last payment; and we -have concluded to go North the latter part of the same month. When will -Miss Nancy be ready to go?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, she can make her arrangements to start at the same time. I will -speak to her about it this evening."</p> - -<p>And then, as we sat planning about a point of location, a shadow -darkened the door. I looked up—and, after a long separation, despite -both natural and artificial changes, I recognized <i>Lindy</i>! I let my -sewing fall from my hands and gazed upon her with as much horror as if -she had been an apparition! Louise spoke kindly to her, and asked her to -walk in.</p> - -<p>"Why, how d'ye do, Ann? I hearn you was livin' in de city, and intended -to come an' see you."</p> - -<p>I stammered out something, and she seated herself near me, and began to -revive old recollections.</p> - -<p>"They are not pleasant, Lindy, and I would rather they should be -forgotten."</p> - -<p>"Laws, I's got a very good home now; but I 'tends to marry some man that -will buy me, and set me free! Now, I's got my eye sot on Henry."</p> - -<p>I trembled violently, but did not trust myself to speak. Louise, -however, in a quick tone, replied:</p> - -<p>"He is engaged, and soon to be married to Ann."</p> - -<p>"Laws! I doesn't b'lieve it; Ann shan't take him from me."</p> - -<p>Though this was said playfully, it was easy for me to detect, beneath -the seeming levity, a strong determination, on her part, to do her very -<i>worst</i>. No wonder that I trembled before her, when I remembered how -powerful an enemy she had been in former times.</p> - -<p>With a few other remarks she left, and Louise observed:</p> - -<p>"That Lindy is a queer girl. With all her ignorance and ugliness, she -excites my dread when I am in her presence—a dread of a supposed and -envenomed power, such as the black cat possesses."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span></p><p>"Such has ever been the feeling, Louise, that she has excited in me. -She has done me harm heretofore; and do you know, I think she means me -ill now. I have uttered this suspicion to Henry and Miss Nancy, but they -both laughed it to scorn—saying <i>she</i> was powerless to injure <i>me</i>; but -still my fear remains, and, when I think of her, I grow sick at heart."</p> - -<p>Upon my return home that evening I told Miss Nancy of the meeting with -Lindy, and of the conversation, but she attached no importance to it.</p> - -<p>No one living beneath the vine and fig-tree of Miss Nancy's planting, -and sharing the calm blessedness of her smiles, could be long unhappy! -Her life, as well as words, was a proof that human nature is not all -depraved. In thinking over the rare combination of virtues that her -character set forth, I have marvelled what must have been her childhood. -Certainly she could never have possessed the usual waywardness of -children. Her youth must have been an exception to the general rule. I -cannot conceive her with the pettishness and proneness to quarrel, which -we naturally expect in children. I love to think of her as a quiet -little Miss, discarding the doll and play-house, turning quietly away -from the frolicsome kitten—seeking the leafy shade of the New England -forests—peering with a curious, thoughtful eye into the woodland -dingle—or straining her gaze far up into the blue arch of heaven—or -questioning, with a child's idle speculation, the whence and the whither -of the mysterious wind. 'Tis thus I have pictured her childhood! She was -a strange, gifted, unusual woman;—who, then, can suppose that her -infancy and youth were ordinary?</p> - -<p>To this day her memory is gratefully cherished by hundreds. Many little -pauper children have felt the kindness of her charity; and those who are -now independent remember the time when her bounty rescued them from -want, and "they rise up to call her blessed!"</p> - -<p>Often have I gone with her upon visits and errands of charity. Through -many a dirty alley have those dainty feet threaded a dangerous way; and -up many a dizzy, dismal flight of ricketty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span> steps have I seen them -ascend, and never heard a petulant word, or saw a haughty look upon her -face! She never went upon missions of charity in a carriage, or, if she -was too weak to walk all the way, she discharged the vehicle before she -got in sight of the hovel. "Let us not be ostentatious," she would say, -when I interposed an objection to her taking so long a walk. "Besides," -she added, "let us give no offence to these suffering poor ones. Let -them think we come as sisters to relieve them; not as Dives, flinging to -Lazarus the crumbs of our bounty!"</p> - -<p>Beautiful Christian soul! baptized with the fire of the Holy Ghost, -endowed with the same saintly spirit that rendered lovely the life of -her whom the Saviour called Mother! thou art with the Blessed now! After -a life of earnest, godly piety, thou hast gone to receive thine -inheritance above, and wear the Amaranthine Crown! for thou didst obey -the Saviour's sternest mandate—sold thy possessions, and gave all to the poor!</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XL.</h2> - -<p class="center">THE CRISIS OF EXISTENCE—A DREADFUL PAGE IN LIFE.</p> - -<p>I have paused much before writing this chapter. I have taken up my pen -and laid it down an hundred times, with the task unfulfilled—the duty -unaccomplished. A nervous sensation, a chill of the heart, have -restrained my pen—yet the record must be made.</p> - -<p>I have that to tell, from which both body and soul shrink. Upon me a -fearful office has been laid! I would that others, with colder blood and -less personal interest, could make this disclosure; but it belongs to my -history; nay, is the very nucleus from which all my reflections upon the -institution of slavery have sprung. Reader, did you ever have a wound—a -deep, almost a mortal wound—whereby your life was threatened, which, -after years of nursing and skilful surgical treatment, had healed, and -was then again rudely torn open? This is my situation. I am going to -tear open, with a rude hand, a deep wound, that time and kind friends -have not availed to cure. But like little, timid children, hurrying -through a dark passage, fearing to look behind them, I shall hasten -rapidly over this part of my life, never pausing to comment upon the -terrible facts I am recording. "I have placed my hand to the -ploughshare, and will not turn back."</p> - -<p>Let me recall that fair and soft evening, in the early September, when -Henry and I, with hand clasped in hand, sat together upon the little -balcony. How sweet-scented was the gale that fanned our brows! The air -was soft and balmy, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a></span> the sweet serenity of the hour was broken only -by that ever-pleasant music of the gently-roaring falls! Fair and -queenly sailed the uprisen moon, through a cloudless sea of blue, whilst -a few faint stars, like fire-flies, seemed flitting round her.</p> - -<p>Long we talked of the happiness that awaited us on the morrow. Henry had -arranged to meet his master, Mr. Graham, on that day, and make the final -payment.</p> - -<p>"Dearest, I lack but fifty dollars of the amount," he said, as he laid -his head confidingly on my shoulder.</p> - -<p>"Ten of which I can give you."</p> - -<p>"And the remaining forty I will make up," said Miss Nancy as she stepped -out of the door, and, placing a pocket-book in Henry's hand, she added, -"there is the amount, take it and be happy."</p> - -<p>Whilst he was returning thanks, I went to get my contribution. Drawing -from my trunk the identical ten-dollar note that good Mr. Trueman had -given me, I hastened to present it to Henry, and make out the sum that -was to give us both so much joy.</p> - -<p>"Here, Henry," I exclaimed, as I rejoined them, "are ten dollars, which -kind Mr. Trueman gave me."</p> - -<p>Miss Nancy sighed deeply. I turned around, but she said with a smile:</p> - -<p>"How different is your life now from what it was when that money was -given you."</p> - -<p>"Yes, indeed," I answered; "and, thanks, my noble benefactress, to you -for it."</p> - -<p>"Let me," she continued, without noticing my remark, "see that note."</p> - -<p>I immediately handed it to her. Could I be mistaken? No; she actually -pressed it to her lips! But then she was such a philanthropist, and she -loved the note because it was the means of bringing us happiness. She -handed it back to me with another sigh.</p> - -<p>"When he gave it to me, he bade me receive it as his contribution toward -the savings I was about to lay up for the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</a></span>purchase of myself. Now what -joy it gives me to hand it to you, Henry." He was weeping, and could not -trust his voice to answer.</p> - -<p>"And Ann shall soon be free. Next week we will all start for the North, -and then, my good friends, your white days will commence," said Miss -Nancy.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Heaven bless you, dear saint," cried Henry, whose utterance was -choked by tears. Miss Nancy and I both wept heartily; but mine were -happy tears, grateful as the fragrant April showers!</p> - -<p>"Why this is equal to a camp-meeting," exclaimed Louise, who had, -unperceived by us, entered the front-door, passed through the hall, and -now joined us upon the portico.</p> - -<p>Upon hearing of Henry's good fortune, she began to weep also.</p> - -<p>"Will you not let me make one of the party for the North?" she inquired -of Miss Nancy.</p> - -<p>"Certainly, we shall be glad to have you, Louise; but come, Henry, get -your banjo, and play us a pleasant tune."</p> - -<p>He obeyed with alacrity, and I never heard his voice sound so rich, -clear and ringing. How magnificent he looked, with the full radiance of -the moonlight streaming over his face and form! His long flossy black -hair was thrown gracefully back from his broad and noble brow; whilst -his dark flashing eye beamed with unspeakable joy, and the animation -that flooded his soul lent a thrill to his voice, and a majesty to his -frame, that I had never seen or heard before. Surely I was very proud -and happy as I looked on him then!</p> - -<p>Before we parted, Miss Nancy invited him and Louise to join us in family -devotion. After reading a chapter in the Bible, and a short but eloquent -and impressive prayer, she besought Heaven to shed its most benign -blessings on us; and that our approaching good fortune might not make us -forget Him from whom every good and perfect gift emanated; and thus -closed that delightful evening!</p> - -<p>After Henry had taken an affectionate farewell of me, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</a></span> departed with -Louise, he, to my surprise, returned in a few moments, and finding the -house still open, called me out upon the balcony.</p> - -<p>"Dearest, I could not resist a strange impulse that urged me to come -back and look upon you once again. How beautiful you are, my love!" he -said as he pushed the masses of hair away from my brow, and imprinted a -kiss thereon. He was so tardy in leaving, that I had to chide him two or -three times.</p> - -<p>"I cannot leave you, darling."</p> - -<p>"But think," I replied, "of the joy that awaits us on the morrow."</p> - -<p>At last, and at Miss Nancy's request, he left, but turned every few -steps to look back at the house.</p> - -<p>"How foolish Henry is to-night," said Miss Nancy, as she withdrew her -head from the open window. "Success and love have made him foolishly -fond!"</p> - -<p>"Quite turned his brain," I replied; "but he will soon be calm again."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, he will find that life is an earnest work, as well for the -freeman as the bondsman."</p> - -<p>I lay for a long time on my bed in a state of sleeplessness, and it was -past midnight when I fell asleep, and then, oh, what a terrible dream -came to torture me! I thought I had been stolen off by a kidnapper, and -confined for safe keeping in a charnel-house, an ancient receptacle for -the dead, and there, with blue lights burning round me, I lay amid the -dried bones and fleshless forms of those who had once been living -beings; and the vile and loathsome gases almost stifled me. By that dim -blue light I strove to find some door or means of egress from the -terrible place, and just as I had found the door and was about to fit a -rusty key into the lock, a long, lean body, decked out in shroud, -winding-sheet and cap, with hollow cheek and cadaverous face, and eyes -devoid of all speculation, suddenly seized me with its cold, skeleton -hand. Slowly the face assumed the expression of Lindy's, then faded into -that of Mr. Peterkin's. I attempted to break from it, but I was held -with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</a></span> a vice-like power. With a loud, frantic scream I broke from the -trammels of sleep. A cold, death-like sweat had broken out on my body. -My screaming had aroused Miss Nancy and Biddy. Both came rushing into my -room.</p> - -<p>After a few moments I told them of my dream.</p> - -<p>"A bad attack of incubus," remarked Miss Nancy, "but she is cold; rub -her well, Biddy."</p> - -<p>With a very good will the kind-hearted Irish girl obeyed her. I could -not, however, be prevailed upon to try to sleep again; and as it wanted -but an hour of the dawn, Biddy consented to remain up with me. We -dressed ourselves, and sitting down by the closed window, entered into a -very cheerful conversation. Biddy related many wild legends of the -"<i>ould country</i>," in which I took great interest.</p> - -<p>Gradually we saw the stars disappear, and the moon go down, and the pale -gray streaks of dawn in the eastern sky!</p> - -<p>I threw up the windows, exclaiming: "Oh, Biddy, as the day dawns, I -begin to suffocate. I feel just as I did in the dream. Give me air, -quick." More I could not utter, for I fell fainting in the arms of the -faithful girl. She dashed water in my face, chafed my hands and temples, -and consciousness soon returned.</p> - -<p>"Why, happiness and good fortune do excite you strangely; but they say -there are some that it sarves just so."</p> - -<p>"Oh no, Biddy, I am not very well,—a little nervous. I will take some -medicine."</p> - -<p>When I joined Miss Nancy, she refused to let me assist her in dressing, -saying:</p> - -<p>"No, Ann, you look ill. Don't trouble yourself to do anything. Go lie -down and rest."</p> - -<p>I assured her repeatedly that I was perfectly well; but she only smiled, -and said in a commendatory tone,</p> - -<p>"Good girl, good girl!"</p> - -<p>All the morning I was fearfully nervous, starting at every little sound -or noise. At length Miss Nancy became seriously uneasy, and compelled me -to take a sedative.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</a></span></p><p>As the day wore on, I began to grow calm. The sedative had taken -effect, and my nervousness was allayed.</p> - -<p>I took my sewing in the afternoon, and seated myself in Miss Nancy's -room. Seeing that I was calm, she began a pleasant conversation with me.</p> - -<p>"Henry will be here to-night, Ann, a free man, the owner of himself, the -custodian of his own person, and you must put on your happiest and best -looks to greet him."</p> - -<p>"Ah, Miss Nancy, it seems like too much joy for me to realize. What if -some grim phantom dash down this sparkling cup; just as we are about to -press it to our eager and expectant lips? Such another disappointment I -could not endure."</p> - -<p>"You little goosey, you will mar half of life's joys by these idle -fears."</p> - -<p>"Yes, Miss Nancy," put in Biddy. "Ann is just so narvous ever since that -ugly dream, that she hain't no faith to-day in anything."</p> - -<p>"Have you baked a pretty cake, and got plenty of nice confections ready -to give Henry a celebration supper, good Biddy?" inquired Miss Nancy.</p> - -<p>"Ah, yes, everything is ready, only just look how light and brown my -cake is," and she brought a fine large cake from the pantry, the savory -odor of which would have tempted an anchorite.</p> - -<p>"Then, too," continued the provident Biddy, "the peaches are unusually -soft and sweet. I have pared and sugared them, and they are on the ice -now; oh, we'll have a rale feast."</p> - -<p>"Thanks, thanks, good friends," I said, in a voice choked with emotion.</p> - -<p>"Only just see," exclaimed Biddy, "here comes Louise, running as fast as -her legs will carry her; she's come to be the first to tell you that -Henry is free."</p> - -<p>I rushed with Biddy to the door, and Miss Nancy followed. We were all -eager to hear the good news.</p> - -<p>"Mercy, Louise, what's the matter?" I cried, for her face terrified me. -She was pale as death; her eyes, black and wild,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[Pg 387]</a></span> seemed starting from -their sockets, and around her mouth there was that ghastly, livid look, -that almost congealed my blood.</p> - -<p>"Oh, God!" she cried in frenzy, "God have mercy on us all!" and reeled -against the wall.</p> - -<p>"Speak, woman, speak, in heaven's name," I shouted aloud. "Henry! Henry! -Henry! has aught happened to him?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, God!" she said, and her eyes flamed like a fury's; "<i>he has cut his -throat</i>, and now lies weltering in his own blood."</p> - -<p>I did not scream, I did not speak. I shed no tears. I did not even close -my eyes. Every sense had turned to stone! For full five minutes I stood -looking in the face of Louise.</p> - -<p>"Why don't you speak, Ann! Cry, imprecate, do something, rather than -stand there with that stony gaze!" said Louise, as she caught me -frantically by the arm.</p> - -<p>"Why did he kill himself?" I asked, in an unfaltering tone.</p> - -<p>"He went, in high spirits, to make his last payment to his master, who -was at the hotel. 'Here, master,' he said, 'is all that I owe you; -please make out the bill of sale, or my free papers.' Mr. Graham took -the money, with a smile, counted it over twice, slowly placed it in his -pocket-book, and said, 'Henry, you are my slave; I hired you to a good -place, where you were well treated; had time to make money for yourself. -Now, according to law, you, as a slave, cannot have or hold property. -Everything, even to your knife, is your master's. All of your earnings -come to me. So, in point of law, I was entitled to all the money that -you have paid me. Legally it was mine, not yours; so I did but receive -from you my own. Notwithstanding all this I was willing to let you have -yourself, and intended to act with you according to our first -arrangement; but upon coming here the other day, a servant girl of Mr. -Bodly's, named Lindy, informed me that you were making preparations to -run off, and cheat me out of the last payment. She stated that you had -told her so; and you intended to start one night this week. I was so -enraged by it, that yesterday I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[Pg 388]</a></span> sold you to a negro trader; and you -must start down the river to-morrow.'"</p> - -<p>"'Master, it is a lie of the girl's; I never had any thought of running -off, or cheating you out of your money.' Henry then told him of Lindy's -malice.</p> - -<p>"'Yes, you have proved it was a lie, by coming and paying me: but -nothing can be done now; I have signed the papers, and you are the -property of Atkins. I have not the power to undo what I have done.'</p> - -<p>"'But, Master,' pleaded Henry, 'can't you refund the money that I have -paid you, and let me buy myself from Mr. Atkins?'</p> - -<p>"'Refund the money, indeed! Who ever heard of such impertinence? Have I -not just shown that all that you made was by right of law mine? No; go -down the river, serve your time, work well, and may be in the course of -fifteen or twenty years you may be able to buy yourself.'</p> - -<p>"'Oh, master!' cried out the weeping Henry, 'pity me, please save me, do -something.'</p> - -<p>"'I can do nothing for you; go, get your trunk ready, here comes Mr. -Atkins for you.'</p> - -<p>Henry turned towards the hard trader, and with a face contracted with -pain, and eyes raining tears, begged for mercy.</p> - -<p>"'Go long you fool of a nigger! an' git ready to go to the pen, without -this fuss, or I'll have you tied with ropes, and taken.'</p> - -<p>"Henry said no more; I had overheard all from an adjoining room. I tried -to avoid him; but he sought me out.</p> - -<p>"'Louise,' he said, in a tone which I shall never forget.</p> - -<p>"'I have heard all,' was my reply.</p> - -<p>"'Will you see Ann for me? Take her a word from me? Tell how it was, -Louise; break the news gently to her.' Here he quite gave up, and, -sinking into a chair, sobbed and cried like a child.</p> - -<p>"'Be a friend to her, Louise; I know that she will need much kindness to -sustain her. Thank Miss Nancy for all her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[Pg 389]</a></span>kindness; tell her that I -blest her before I went. Tell Ann to stay with her, and oh, -Louise'—here he wrung his hands in agony—'tell Ann not to grieve for -me; but she mustn't forget me. Poor, wretched outcast that I am, I have -loved her well! After awhile, when time has softened this blow, she must -try to love and be happy with—— No, no, I'll not ask that; only bid -her not be wretched;—but give me pen and ink, I'll write just one word -to her.'</p> - -<p>"I gave him the ink, pen and paper, and he wrote this."</p> - -<p>As Louise drew a soiled, blotted paper from her bosom, I eagerly -snatched it and read:</p> - -<p>"Ann, dearest, Louise will tell you all. Our dream is broken forever! I -<i>am sold</i>; but I shall be a slave <i>no more</i>. Forgive me for what I am -going to do. Madness has driven me to it! I love you, even in death I -love you. Say farewell to Miss Nancy—I <i>am gone</i>!"</p> - -<p>I read it over twice slowly. One scalding tear, large and round, fell -upon it! I know not where it came from, for my eyes were dry as a -parched leaf.</p> - -<p>The note dropped from my hands, almost unnoticed by me. Biddy picked it -up, and handed it to Miss Nancy, who read it and fainted. I moved about -mechanically; assisted in restoring Miss Nancy to consciousness; chafed -her hands and temples; and, when she came to, and burst into a flood of -tears, I soothed her and urged that she would not weep or distress -herself.</p> - -<p>"I wonder that the earth don't open and swallow them," cried the weeping -Biddy.</p> - -<p>"Hush, Biddy, hush!" I urged.</p> - -<p>"They ought to be hung!"</p> - -<p>"'Vengeance is mine, and I will repay, saith the Lord,'" I replied.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Ann, you are crazy!" she uttered.</p> - -<p>And so, in truth, I was. That granite-like composure was a species of -insanity. I comprehended nothing that was going on around me. I was in a -sort of sleep-waking state, when I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[Pg 390]</a></span> asked Louise if she thought they -would bury him decently; and gave her a bunch of flowers to place in the -coffin.</p> - -<p>And so my worst suspicion was realized! Through Lindy came my heaviest -blow of affliction! I fear that even now, after the lapse of years, I -have not the Christianity to ask, "Father, forgive her, for she knew not -what she did!" Lying beside me now, dear, sympathetic reader, is <i>that -note—his last brief words</i>. Before writing this chapter I read it over. -Old, soiled and worn it was, but by his trembling fingers those blotted -and irregular lines were penned; and to me they are precious, though -they awaken ten thousand bitter emotions! I look at the note but once a -year, and then on the fatal anniversary, which occurs to-day! I have -pressed it to my heart, and hearsed it away, not to be re-opened for -another year. This is the blackest chapter in my dark life, and you will -feel, with me, glad that it is about to close. I have nerved myself for -the duty of recording it, and, now that it is over, I sink down faint -and broken-hearted beside the accomplished task.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[Pg 391]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XLI.</h2> - -<p class="center">A REVELATION—DEATH THE PEACEFUL ANGEL—CALMNESS.</p> - -<p>Months passed by after the events told in the last chapter—<i>passed</i>, I -scarce know how. They have told me that I wandered about like one in the -mazes of a troubled dream. My reason was disturbed. I've no distinct -idea how the days or weeks were employed. Vague remembrances of kindly -words, music, odorous flowers, and a trip to a beautiful, quiet -country-house, I sometimes have; but 'tis all so misty and dream-like, -that I can form no tangible idea of it. So this period has almost faded -out of mind, and is like lost pages from the chronicle of life.</p> - -<p>When the winter was far spent, and during the snowy days of February, my -mind began to collect its shattered forces. The approach of another -trouble brought back consciousness with rekindled vigor.</p> - -<p>One day I became aware that Miss Nancy was very ill. It seemed as if a -thick vapor, like a breath-stain on glass, had suddenly been wiped away -from my mind; and I saw clearly. There lay Miss Nancy upon her bed, -appallingly white, with her large eyes sunken deeply in their sockets, -and her lips purple as an autumn leaf. Her thin, white hand, with -discolored nails, was thrown upon the covering, and aroused my alarm. I -rushed to her, fearing that the vital spark no longer animated that -loved and once lovely frame.</p> - -<p>"Miss Nancy, dear Miss Nancy," I cried, "speak to me, only one word."</p> - -<p>She started nervously, "Oh, who are you? Ah, Ann—is it Ann?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[Pg 392]</a></span></p><p>"Yes, dear Miss Nancy, it is <i>I</i>. It appears as though a film had been -removed from my eyes, and I see how selfish I have been. You have -suffered for my attention. What has been the matter with me?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, dear child, a fearful dispensation of Providence was sent you; and -from the chastisement you are about recovering. Thank God, that you are -still the mistress of your reason! For its safety, I often trembled. I -did all for you that I could; but I was fearful that human skill would -be of no avail."</p> - -<p>"Thanks, my kind friend, and sorry I am for all the anxiety and -uneasiness that I have given you."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I am repaid, or rather was pre-paid for all and more, you were so -kind to me."</p> - -<p>Here Biddy entered, and I took down the Bible and read a few chapters -from the book of Job.</p> - -<p>"What a comfort that book is to us," said Biddy. "Many's the time, Ann, -that Miss Nancy read it to you, when you'd sit an' look so -wandering-like; but you are well now, Ann, an' all will be right with -us."</p> - -<p>"<i>All</i> can never be, Biddy, as once it <i>was</i>," and I shook my head.</p> - -<p>"Oh, don't spake of it," and she wiped her moist eyes with her apron.</p> - -<p>Days and weeks passed on thus smoothly, during which time Louise came -often to see us; but the fatal sorrow was never alluded to. By common -consent all avoided it.</p> - -<p>Daily, hourly, Miss Nancy's health sank. I never saw the footsteps of -the grim monster approach more rapidly than in her case. The wasting of -her cheek was like the eating of a worm at the heart of a rose.</p> - -<p>Her bed was wheeled close to the fire, and I read, all the pleasant -mornings, some cheerful book to her.</p> - -<p>Her brother came often, and sat with her through the evenings. Many of -her friends and neighbors offered to watch with her at night; but she -bade me decline all such kindness.</p> - -<p>"You and Biddy are enough. I want no others. Let me die<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[Pg 393]</a></span> calmly, in the -presence of, my own household, with no unusual faces around," she said -in a low tone.</p> - -<p>She talked about her death as though it were some long journey upon -which she was about starting; gave directions how she should be -shrouded; what kind of coffin we must get, tomb-stone, &c. She enjoined -that we inscribe nothing but her age and name upon the tomb-stone.</p> - -<p>"I wish no ostentatious slab, no false eulogium; my name and age are all -the epitaph I deserve, and all that I will have."</p> - -<p>Several ministers came to see her, and held prayer. She received them -kindly, and spoke at length with some.</p> - -<p>"I shall meet the great change with resignation. I had hoped, Ann, to -see you well settled somewhere in the North; but that will be denied me. -In my will, I have remembered both you and Biddy. I have no parting -advice for either of you; for you are both, though of different faith, -consistent Christians. I hope we shall meet hereafter. You must not -weep, girls, for it pains me to think I leave you troubled."</p> - -<p>When Biddy withdrew, she called me to her, saying,</p> - -<p>"Ann, I am feeble, draw near the bed whilst I talk to you. I hold here -in my hand a letter from my nephew, Robert Worth."</p> - -<p>"Robert Worth? Why I—"</p> - -<p>"Yes, he says that he was at Mr. Peterkin's and remembers you well. He -also speaks of Emily Bradly, who is now in Boston; says that she -recollects you well, and is pleased to hear of your good fortune. Robert -is the son of my elder sister, who is now deceased; a favorite he always -was of mine. He read law in Mr. Trueman's office, and has a very -successful practice at the Boston bar. Long time ago, Ann, when I was a -young, blooming girl, my sister Lydia (Robert's mother) and I were at -school at a very celebrated academy in the North. During one of our -vacations, when we were on a visit to Boston—for we were country -girls—we were introduced to two young barristers, William Worth and -Justinian Trueman. They were strong personal friends.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[Pg 394]</a></span></p><p>"The former became much attached to my sister, and came frequently to -see her. Justinian Trueman came also. By the force of circumstance, Mr. -Trueman and I were thrown much together. From his lofty conversation and -noble principles, I gained great advantage. I loved to listen to his -candid avowal of free, democratic principles. How bravely he set aside -conventionality and empty forms; he was a searcher after the soul of -things! He was the very essence of honor, always ready to sacrifice -himself for others, and daily and hourly crucified his heart!</p> - -<p>"Chance threw us much together, as I have said. You may infer what -ensued. Two persons so similar in nature, so united in purpose (though -he was vastly my superior), could not associate much and long together -without a feeling of love springing up! Our case did not differ from -that of others. <i>We loved.</i> Not as the careless or ordinary love; but -with a fervor, a depth of passion, and a concentration of soul, which -nothing in life could destroy.</p> - -<p>"My sister was the chosen bride of William Worth. This fact was known to -all the household. Justinian and I read in each other's manner the -secret of the heart.</p> - -<p>"At length, in one brief hour, he told me his story; he was the only -child of a widowed mother, who had spent her all upon his education. -Whilst he was away, her wants had been tenderly ministered to by a very -lovely young girl of wealth and social position. Upon her death-bed his -mother besought him to marry this lady. He was then inflamed with -gratitude, and, being free in heart, he mistook the nature of his -feelings. Whilst in this state of mind, he offered himself to her and -was instantly accepted. Afterwards when we met he understood how he had -been beguiled!</p> - -<p>"He wrote to his betrothed, told her the state of his feelings, that he -loved another; but declared his willingness to redeem his promise, and -stand by his engagement if she wished.</p> - -<p>"How anxiously we both awaited her reply! It came promptly, and she -desired, nay demanded, the fulfilment of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[Pg 395]</a></span> the engagement; even reminded -him of his promise to his mother, and of the obligation he was under to -herself.</p> - -<p>"No tongue can describe the agony that we both endured; yet principle -must be obeyed. We parted. They were married. Twice afterwards I saw -him. He was actively engaged in his profession; but the pale cheek and -earnest look told me that he still thought lovingly of me! My sister -married William Worth, and resided in Boston; but her husband died early -in life, leaving his only child Robert to the care of Mr. Trueman. After -my mother's death, possessing myself of my patrimony, I removed west, to -this city, where my brother lived. I had been separated from him for a -number of years, and was surprised to find how entirely a Southern -residence had changed him. Owing to some little domestic difficulties, I -declined remaining in his family.</p> - -<p>"Last winter, when Justinian Trueman was here, I was out of the city; -and it was well that I was, for I could not have met him again. Old -feelings, that should be cradled to rest, would have been aroused! My -brother saw him, and told me that he looked well.</p> - -<p>"Now, is it not strange that you should have been an object of such -especial interest to both of us? It seems as though you were a centre -around which we were once more re-united. I have written him a long -letter, which I wish you to deliver upon your arrival in Boston." Here -she drew from the portfolio that was lying on the bed beside her, a -sealed letter, directed to Justinian Trueman, Boston, Mass.</p> - -<p>I was weeping violently when I took it from her.</p> - -<p>She lingered thus for several weeks, and on a calm Sabbath morning, as I -was reading to her from the Bible, she said to me—</p> - -<p>"Ann, I am sleepy; my eyelids are closing; turn me over."</p> - -<p>As I attempted to do it she pressed my hand tightly, straightened her -body out, and the last struggle was over! I was alone with her. Laying -her gently upon the pillow, I for the first time in my life pressed my -lips to that cold, marble brow. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[Pg 396]</a></span> felt that she, holy saint, would not -object to it, were she able to speak. I then called Biddy in to assist -me. She was loud in her lamentation.</p> - -<p>"She bade us not weep for her, Biddy. She is happier now;" but, though I -spoke this in a composed tone, my heart was all astir with emotion.</p> - -<p>Soon her brother came in, bringing with him a minister. He received the -mournful intelligence with subdued grief.</p> - -<p>We robed her for Death's bridal, e'en as she had requested, in white -silk, flannel, and white gloves. Her coffin was plain mahogony, with a -plate upon the top, upon which were engraved her name, age, and -birth-place.</p> - -<p>A funeral sermon was preached, by a minister who had been a strong -personal friend. In a retired portion of the public burial-ground we -made her last bed. A simple tombstone, as she directed, was placed over -the grave, her name, age, &c., inscribed thereon.</p> - -<p>Bridget and I slept in the same house that night. We could not be -persuaded to leave it, and there, in Miss Nancy's dear, familiar room, -we held, as usual, family devotion. I almost fancied that she stood in -the midst, and was gazing well-pleased upon us.</p> - -<p>That night I slept profoundly. My rest had been broken a great deal, and -now the knowledge that duty did not keep me awake, enabled me to sleep -well.</p> - -<p>On the next day Mr. Worth arrived, and was much distressed to find that -he was too late to see his aunt alive.</p> - -<p>Though he looked older and more serious than when I last saw him, I -readily recognized the same noble expression of face. He received me -very kindly, and thanked Biddy and me for our attentions to his beloved -aunt. He showed us a letter she had written, in which she spoke of us in -the kindest manner, and recommended us to his care.</p> - -<p>"Neither of you shall ever lack for friendship whilst I live," he said, -as he warmly shook us by the hands.</p> - -<p>He told me that he had ever retained a vivid recollection of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[Pg 397]</a></span> my sad -face; and inquired about "young Master." When I told him that he was -dead, and gave an account of his life and sufferings, Mr. Worth -remarked—</p> - -<p>"Ah, yes, he was one of heaven's angels, lent us only for a short -season."</p> - -<p>I accompanied him to his aunt's grave.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * *</p> - -<p>Upon the reading of the will, it was discovered that Miss Nancy had -liberated me, and left me, as a legacy, four thousand dollars, with the -request that I would live somewhere in the North. To Biddy she had left -a bequest of three thousand dollars; the remainder of her fortune, after -making a donation to her brother, was left to her nephew, Robert Worth.</p> - -<p>The will was instantly carried into effect; as it met with no -opposition, and she owed no debts, matters were arranged satisfactorily; -and we prepared for departure.</p> - -<p>Louise had made all her arrangements to go with us. I was now a free -woman, in the possession of a comparative fortune; yet I was not happy. -Alas! I had out-lived all for which money and freedom were valuable, and -I cared not how the remainder of my days were spent. Why cannot the -means of happiness come to us when we have the capacity for enjoyment?</p> - -<p>On the evening before our departure, I called Louise to me and asked,</p> - -<p>"Where is Henry's grave?" It was the first time since that fatal day -that I had mentioned his name to her.</p> - -<p>"He is buried far away, in a plain, unmarked grave; but, even if it were -near, you should not go," she replied.</p> - -<p>"Tell me, who found him, after—after—after <i>the murder</i>?"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Graham and Atkins went in search of him, and I followed them; -though he had told me what he was going to do, Ann, I could not oppose -or even dissuade him."</p> - -<p>I wept freely; and, as is always the case, was relieved by it.</p> - -<p>"I am glad to see that you can weep. It will do you good," said Louise.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[Pg 398]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XLII</h2> - -<p class="center">CONCLUSION.</p> - -<p>But little more remains to be told of my history.</p> - -<p>When Louise, Biddy and I, under the protection of Mr. Worth, sailed on a -pleasant steamer from the land of slavery, I could but thank my God that -I was leaving forever the State, beneath the sanction of whose laws the -vilest outrages and grossest inhumanities were committed!</p> - -<p>Our trip would, indeed, have been delightful, but that I was constantly -contrasting it in my own mind with what it might have been, had <span class="smaller">HE</span> not -fallen a victim to the white man's cupidity.</p> - -<p>Often I stole away from the company, and, in the privacy of my own room, -gave vent to my pent-up grief. Biddy and Louise were in ecstacies with -everything that they saw.</p> - -<p>All along the route, after passing out of the Slave States, we met with -kind friends and genuine hospitality. The Northern people are noble, -generous, and philanthropic; and it affords me pleasure to record here a -tribute to their worth and kindness.</p> - -<p>In New York we met with the best of friends. Everywhere I saw smiling, -black faces; a sight rarely beheld in the cities and villages of the -South. I saw men and women of the despised race, who walked with erect -heads and respectable carriage, as though they realized that they were -men and women, not mere chattels.</p> - -<p>When we reached Boston I was made to feel this in a particular manner. -There I met full-blooded Africans, finely educated, in the possession of -princely talents, occupying good positions, wielding a powerful -political influence, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[Pg 399]</a></span>illustrating, in their lives, the oft-disputed -fact, that the African intellect is equal to the Caucasian. Soon after -my arrival in Boston I found out, from Mr. Worth, the residence of Mr. -Trueman, and called to see him.</p> - -<p>I was politely ushered by an Irish waiter into the study, where I found -Mr. Trueman engaged with a book. At first he did not recognize me; but I -soon made myself known, and received from him a most hearty welcome.</p> - -<p>I related all the incidents in my life that had occurred since I had -seen him last. He entered fully into my feelings, and I saw the tear -glisten in his calm eyes when I spoke of poor Henry's awful fate.</p> - -<p>I told him of Miss Nancy's kindness, and the tears rolled down his -cheeks. I did not speak of what she had told me in relation to their -engagement; I merely stated that she had referred to him as a particular -personal friend, and when I gave him the letter he received it with a -tremulous hand, uttered a fearful groan, and buried his face among the -papers that lay scattered over his table. Without a spoken good-bye, I -withdrew.</p> - -<p>I saw him often after this; and from him received the most signal acts -of kindness. He thanked me many times for what he termed my fidelity to -his sainted friend. He never spoke of her without a quiver of the lip, -and I honored him for his constancy.</p> - -<p>He strongly urged me to take up my residence in Boston; but I remembered -that Henry's preference had always been for a New England village; and I -loved to think that I was following out his views, and so I removed to a -quiet puritanical little town in Massachusetts.</p> - -<p>And here I now am engaged in teaching a small school of African -children; happy in the discharge of so sacred a duty. 'Tis surprising to -see how rapidly they learn. I am interested, and so are they, in the -work: and thus what with some teachers is an irksome task, is to me a -pleasing duty.</p> - -<p>I should state for the benefit of the curious, that Biddy is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[Pg 400]</a></span> living in -Boston, happily married to "a countryman," and is the proud mother of -several blooming children. She comes to visit me sometimes, during the -heat of summer, and is always a welcome guest.</p> - -<p>Louise, too, has consented to wear matrimony's easy yoke. She lives in -the same village with me. Our social and friendly relations still -continue. I have frequently, when visiting Boston, met Miss Bradly. She, -like me, has never married. She has grown to be a firmer and more -earnest woman than she was in Kentucky. I must not omit to mention the -fact, that when travelling through Canada, I by the rarest chance met -Ben—Amy's treasure—now grown to be a fine-looking youth.</p> - -<p>He had a melancholy story—a life, like every other slave's, full of -trouble—but at length, by the sharpest ingenuity, he had made his -escape, and reached, after many difficulties, the golden shores of -Canada!</p> - -<p>Now my history has been given—a round, unvarnished tale it is; and -thus, without ornament, I send it forth to the world. I have spoken -freely; at times, I grant, with a touch of bitterness, but never without -truth; and I ask the wise, the considerate, the earnest, if I have not -had cause for bitterness. Who can carp at me? That there are some fiery -Southerners who will assail me, I doubt not; but I feel satisfied that I -have discharged a duty that I solemnly owed to my oppressed and -down-trodden nation. I am calm and self-possessed; I have passed firmly -through the severest ordeal of persecution, and have been spared the -death that has befallen many others. Surely I was saved for some wise -purpose, and I fear nought from those who are fanatically wedded to -wrong and inhumanity. Let them assail me as they will, I shall still -feel that</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>"Thrice is he armed who has his quarrel just,</div> -<div>And he but naked, though wrapped up in steel,</div> -<div>Whose bosom with injustice is polluted."</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>But there are others, some even in slave States, kind, noble, thoughtful -persons, earnest seekers after the highest good in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[Pg 401]</a></span> life and nature; to -them I consign my little book, sincerely begging, that through my weak -appeal, my poor suffering brothers and sisters, who yet wear the galling -yoke of American slavery, may be granted a hearing.</p> - -<p>From the distant rice-fields and sugar plantations of the fervid South, -comes a frantic wail from the wronged, injured, and oh, how innocent -African! Hear it; hear that cry, Christians of the North, let it ring in -your ears with its fearful agony! Hearken to it, ye who feast upon the -products of African labor! Let it stay you in the use of those -commodities for which their life-blood, aye more, their soul's life, is -drained out drop by drop! Talk no more, ye faint-hearted politicians, of -"expediency." God will not hear your lame excuse in that grand and awful -day, when He shall come in pomp and power to judge the quick and dead.</p> - -<p>And so, my history, go forth and do thy mission! knock at the doors of -the lordly and wealthy: there, by the shaded light of rosy lamps, tell -your story. Creep in at the broken crevice of the poor man's cabin, and -there make your complaint. Into the ear of the brave, energetic -mechanic, sound the burden of your grief. To the strong-hearted -blacksmith, sweating over his furnace, make yourself heard; and ask -them, one and all, shall this unjust institution of slavery be -perpetuated? Shall it dare to desecrate, with its vile presence, the new -territories that are now emphatically free? Shall Nebraska and Kansas -join in a blood-spilling coalition with the South?</p> - -<p>Answer proudly, loudly, brave men; and answer, <i>No, No!</i> My work is done.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_a1" id="Page_a1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> - -<h2>REDFIELD'S PUBLICATIONS.—POETRY AND THE DRAMA.</h2> - -<p class="bold">POETRY AND THE DRAMA.</p> - -<p>The Works of Shakespeare, reprinted from the newly-discovered copy of -the Folio of 1632, in the possession of <span class="smcap">J. Payne Collier</span>, with numerous -Illustrations. One vol. Imperial 8vo. Cloth, $4; sheep, $4 25; half -morocco, plain, $5 00; marble edges, $5 50; half calf, or morocco extra, -$6 00; full morocco, antique, $7 00.</p> - -<p>Same as above, cheap edition, cloth, $3 00; sheep, $3 50; imitation -morocco, full gilt, $4 00.</p> - -<p>The Works of Shakespeare, same as above. Uniform in size with the -celebrated Chiswick Edition, 8 vols. 16mo, cloth, $6 00; half calf or -morocco, plain, $10 00; half calf or morocco, extra, $12 00.</p> - -<p>Notes and Emendations of Shakespeare. Notes and Emendations to the Text -of Shakespeare's Plays, from the Early Manuscript Corrections in a copy -of the folio of 1632, in the possession of <span class="smcap">John Payne Collier</span>, F. S. A. -Third edition, with a fac-simile of the Manuscript Corrections. 1 vol., -12mo., cloth. Price $1 50.</p> - -<p>Lilian, and other Poems. By <span class="smcap">Winthrop Mackworth Praed</span>. Now first -collected. 1 vol., 12mo. Price $1 00.</p> - -<p>Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers. By <span class="smcap">William E. Aytoun</span>, Professor of -Literature and Belles-Lettres in the University of Edinburgh, and Editor -of Blackwood's Magazine. 1 vol., 12mo, cloth. Price $1 00.</p> - -<p>Firmilian; a Spasmodic Tragedy. By <span class="smcap">T. Percy Jones</span> [W. E. Aytoun]. Price -50 cents.</p> - -<p>The Book of Ballads. By <span class="smcap">Bon Gaultier</span>. 1 vol. 12mo, cloth. Price 75 -cents.</p> - -<p>Poetical Works of Fitz-Greene Halleck. New and only Complete Edition, -containing several New Poems, together with many now first collected. 1 -vol., 12mo. Price $1 00.</p> - -<p>Simms' Poetical Works. Poems: Descriptive, Dramatic, Legendary, and -Contemplative. By <span class="smcap">Wm. Gilmore Simms</span>. With a Portrait on steel. 2 vols., -12mo, cloth. Price $2 50.</p> - -<p>Lyra, and other Poems. By <span class="smcap">Alice Carey</span>. 1 vol., 12mo, cloth. Price 75 -cents.</p> - -<p>The Poetical Works of W. H. C. Hosmer. Now first collected. With a -Portrait on steel. 2 vols., 12mo. Price $2 00.</p> - -<p>Scottish Songs, Ballads, and Poems. By <span class="smcap">Hew Ainslie</span>, author of "The -Ingleside," "On with the Tartan," "Rover of Loch-Ryan," &c., &c. 1 vol., -12mo. Price $1 00.</p> - -<p>The Poets and Poetry of Ireland. 1 vol., 8vo, with Plates. Edited by Dr. -<span class="smcap">R. Shelton Mackenzie</span>. [In Press.]</p> - -<p>Oliatta, and other Poems. By <span class="smcap">Howard H. Caldwell</span>. 12mo, cloth Price $1 -00.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_a2" id="Page_a2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p> - -<p class="bold">HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY</p> - -<p>Ancient Egypt under the Pharaohs. By <span class="smcap">John Kenrick</span>, M.A. In 2 vols., -12mo. Price $2 50.</p> - -<p>Newman's Regal Rome. An Introduction to Roman History. By <span class="smcap">Francis W. -Newman</span>, Professor of Latin in the University College, London. 12mo, -cloth. Price 63 cents.</p> - -<p>The Catacombs of Rome, as Illustrating the Church of the First Three -Centuries. By the Right Rev. <span class="smcap">W. Ingraham Kip</span>, D.D., Missionary Bishop of -California. Author of "Christmas Holidays in Rome," "Early Conflicts of -Christianity," &c., &c. With over 100 Illustrations. 12mo, cloth. Price -75 cents.</p> - -<p>The History of the Crusades. By <span class="smcap">Joseph François Michaud</span>. Translated by -W. Robson. 3 vols., 12mo, Maps. Price $3 75.</p> - -<p>Napoleon in Exile; or, a Voice from St. Helena. Being the Opinions and -Reflections of Napoleon, on the most important Events in his Life and -Government, in his own words. By <span class="smcap">Barry E. O'Meara</span>, his late Surgeon; -with a Portrait of Napoleon, after the celebrated picture of Delaroche, -and a view of St. Helena, both beautifully engraved on steel. 2 vols., -12mo, cloth. Price $2 00.</p> - -<p>Jomini's Campaign of Waterloo. The Political and Military History of the -Campaign of Waterloo, from the French of General Baron Jomini. By Lieut. -<span class="smcap">S. V. Benet</span>, U. S. Ordnance, with a Map. 12mo, cloth. Price 75 cents.</p> - -<p>Napier's Peninsular War. History of the War in the Peninsula, and in the -South of France, from the Year 1807 to 1814. By <span class="smcap">W. F. P. Napier</span>, C. B., -Colonel 43d Regiment, &c. Complete in 1 vol., 8vo. Price $2 50.</p> - -<p>Napier's Peninsular War. History of the War in the Peninsula, and in the -South of France, from the Year 1807 to 1814. By <span class="smcap">W. F. P. Napier</span>, C. B., -Colonel 43d Regiment, &c. In 5 vols., 12mo, with Portraits and Plans. -Price $6 25. [In Press.]</p> - -<p>Discovery and Exploration of the Mississippi Valley. With the Original -Narratives of Marquette, Allouez, Membré, Hennepin, and Anastase Douay. -By <span class="smcap">John Gilmary Shea</span>. With a fac-simile of the Original Map of -Marquette. 1 vol., 8vo, cloth, antique. Price $2.</p> - -<p>Narrative of a Voyage to the Northwest Coast of America, in the Years -1811-'12-'13 and 1814; or, the First Settlement on the Pacific. By -<span class="smcap">Gabriel Franchère</span>. Translated and Edited by <span class="smcap">J. V. Huntington</span>. 12mo, -cloth. Plates. Price $1 00.</p> - -<p>Las Cases' Napoleon. Memoirs of the Life, Exile, and Conversations of -the Emperor Napoleon. By the Count <span class="smcap">Las Cases</span>. With Portraits on steel, -woodcuts, &c. 4 vols., 12mo, cloth, $4 00, half calf or morocco extra, -$8 00.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_a3" id="Page_a3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p><p>Life of the Rt. Hon. John Philpot Curran. By his Son, Wm. Henry Curran; -with Notes and Additions, by Dr. <span class="smcap">R. Shelton Mackenzie</span>, and a Portrait on -Steel. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25.</p> - -<p>Sketches of the Irish Bar. By the Right Hon. Richard Lalor Sheil, M. P. -Edited, with a Memoir and Notes, by Dr. <span class="smcap">R. Shelton Mackenzie</span>. Fourth -Edition. In 2 vols. Price $2 00.</p> - -<p>Barrington's Sketches. Personal Sketches of his Own Time. By <span class="smcap">Sir Jonah -Barrington</span>, Judge of the High Court of Admiralty in Ireland; with -Illustrations by Darley. Third Edition. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25.</p> - -<p>Moore's Life of Sheridan. Memoirs of the Life of the Rt. Hon. Richard -Brinsley Sheridan. By <span class="smcap">Thomas Moore</span>; with Portrait after Sir Joshua -Reynolds. 2 vols., 12mo, cloth. Price $2 00.</p> - -<p>Men of the Time, or Sketches of Living Notables, Authors, Architects, -Artists, Composers, Demagogues, Divines, Dramatists, Engineers, -Journalists, Ministers, Monarchs, Novelists, Politicians, Poets, -Philanthropists, Preachers, Savans, Statesmen, Travellers, Voyagers, -Warriors. 1 vol., 12mo. Containing nearly Nine Hundred Biographical -Sketches. Price $1 50.</p> - -<p>Lorenzo Benoni; or, Passages in the Life of an Italian. Edited by a -Friend. 1 vol., 12mo. $1 00.</p> - -<p>The Workingman's Way in the World. Being the Autobiography of a -Journeyman Printer. By <span class="smcap">Charles Manby Smith</span>, Author of "Curiosities of -London life." 12mo, cloth. Price $1 00.</p> - -<p>Classic and Historic Portraits. By <span class="smcap">James Bruce</span>. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 -00.</p> - -<p>Ladies of the Covenant. Memoirs of Distinguished Scottish Females, -embracing the Period of the Covenant and the Persecution. By Rev. <span class="smcap">James -Anderson</span>. 1 vol., 12mo. Price $1 25.</p> - -<p>Tom Moore's Suppressed Letters. Notes from the Letters of Thomas Moore -to his Music-Publisher, James Power (the publication of which was -suppressed in London), with an Introductory Letter from Thomas Crofton -Croker, Esq., F. S. A. With four Engravings on steel. 12mo, cloth. Price -$1 50.</p> - -<p>Fifty Years in Both Hemispheres; or, Reminiscences of a Merchant's Life. -By <span class="smcap">Vincent Nolte</span>. 12mo. Price $1 25. (Eighth Edition.)</p> - -<p>Men and Women of the Eighteenth Century. By <span class="smcap">Arsene Houssaye</span>. With -beautifully-engraved Portraits of Louis XV. and Madame de Pompadour. 2 -vols., 12mo, 450 pages each, extra super-fine paper. Price $2 50.</p> - -<p>Philosophers and Actresses. By <span class="smcap">Arsene Houssaye</span>. With -beautifully-engraved Portraits of Voltaire and Madame Parabèra, 2 vols., -12mo. Price $2 50.</p> - -<p>Life of the Honorable William H. Seward, with Selections from his Works. -Edited by <span class="smcap">George E. Baker</span>. 12mo, cloth Portrait. Price $1 00.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_a4" id="Page_a4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p><p>The History of Texas, from its Settlement in 1685 to its Annexation to -the United States. By <span class="smcap">H. Yoakum</span>, Esq., of the Texas Bar; with Portraits, -Maps, and Plans. 2 vols., 8vo, cloth or sheep. Price $5 00. [In Press.]</p> - -<p>The History of Louisiana—Spanish Domination. By <span class="smcap">Charles Gayarre</span>. 8vo, -cloth. Price $2 50.</p> - -<p>The History of Louisiana—French Domination. By <span class="smcap">Charles Gayarre</span>. 2 -vols., 8vo, cloth. Price $3 50.</p> - -<p>The Life of P. T. Barnum, written by himself; in which he narrates his -early history as Clerk, Merchant, and Editor, and his later career as a -Showman. With a Portrait on steel, and numerous Illustrations by Darley. -1 vol., 12mo. Price $1 25.</p> - -<p>A Memorial of Horatio Greenough, consisting of a Memoir, Selections from -his Writings, and Tributes to his Genius, by <span class="smcap">Henry T. Tuckerman</span>, Author -of "Sicily, a Pilgrimage," "A Month in England," &c., &c. 12mo, cloth. -Price 75 cents.</p> - -<p>Minnesota and its Resources; to which are appended Camp-Fire Sketches, -or Notes of a Trip from St. Paul to Pembina and Selkirk Settlements on -the Red River of the North. By <span class="smcap">J. Wesley Bond</span>. With a New Map of the -Territory, a View of St. Paul, and one of the Falls of St. Anthony. 1 -vol., 12mo, cloth. Price $1 00.</p> - -<p>The Private Life of an Eastern King. By a Member of the Household of his -Late Majesty, Nussir-u-deen, King of Oude. 12mo, cloth. Price 75 cents.</p> - -<p>Doran's Queens of England. The Queens of England, of the House of -Hanover. By Dr. <span class="smcap">Doran</span>, Author of "Table Traits," "Habits and Men," &c. 2 -vols., 12mo, cloth. Price $2 00</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_a7" id="Page_a7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> - -<p class="bold">BELLES-LETTRES.</p> - -<p><b>Revolutionary Tales</b>, by <span class="smcap">Wm. Gilmore Simms</span>, Esq. New and Revised -Editions, with Illustrations by Darley.</p> - -<p>The Partisan; A Romance of the Revolution. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25.</p> - -<p>Mellichampe; A Legend of the Santee. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25.</p> - -<p>Katharine Walton; or, The Rebel of Dorchester. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25.</p> - -<p>The Scout; or, The Black Riders of the Congaree. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 -25.</p> - -<p>Woodcraft; or, The Hawks about the Dovecote. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25.</p> - -<p>The Forayers; or, The Raid of the Dog-Days. A New Revolutionary Romance. -12mo, cloth. Price $1 25.</p> - -<p>Entaw. A New Revolutionary Romance. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25.</p> - - -<p><b>Simms's Border Romances of the South</b>, New and Revised Editions, with -Illustrations by Darley. Uniform with <span class="smcap">Simms's Revolutionary Tales</span>.</p> - -<p>I. Guy Rivers. A Tale of Georgia. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25.</p> - -<p>II. Richard Hurdis. A Tale of Alabama. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25.</p> - -<p>III. Border Beagles. A Tale of Mississippi. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25.</p> - -<p>IV. Charlemont. A Tale of Kentucky. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25.</p> - -<p>V. Beauchampe; or, The Kentucky Tragedy. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25.</p> - -<p>VI. Confession; or, The Blind Heart. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25.</p> - - -<p>The Yemassee; A Romance of South Carolina. By <span class="smcap">Wm. Gilmore Simms</span>, Esq. -12mo, cloth. Price $1 25.</p> - -<p>Southward, Ho! a Spell of Sunshine. By <span class="smcap">Wm. Gilmore Simms</span>, Esq. 12mo, -cloth. Price $1 25.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_a8" id="Page_a8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p><p>The Noctes Ambrosianæ. By Professor <span class="smcap">Wilson</span>, <span class="smcap">J. G. Lockhart</span>, <span class="smcap">James Hogg</span>, -and Dr. <span class="smcap">Maginn</span>. Edited, with Memoirs and Notes, by Dr. <span class="smcap">R. Shelton -Mackenzie</span>. In 5 volumes. Price $5 00.</p> - -<p>The Odoherty Papers; forming the first portion of the Miscellaneous -Writings of the late Dr. <span class="smcap">Maginn</span>. With an Original Memoir, and copious -Notes, by Dr. <span class="smcap">R. Shelton Mackenzie</span>. 2 vols. Price $2 00.</p> - -<p>The Shakespeare Papers, and the Homeric Ballads; forming Vol. III. of -the Miscellaneous Writings of the late Dr. <span class="smcap">Maginn</span>. Edited by Dr. <span class="smcap">R. -Shelton Mackenzie</span>. [In Press.]</p> - -<p>Bits of Blarney. By Dr. <span class="smcap">R. Shelton Mackenzie</span>, Editor of "Sheil's -Sketches of the Irish Bar," "Noctes Ambrosianæ," &c. 12mo, cloth. Price -$1 00.</p> - -<p>Table Traits. By Dr. <span class="smcap">Doran</span>, Author of "Habits and Men," &c. 12mo, cloth. -$1 25.</p> - -<p>Habits and Men. By Dr. <span class="smcap">Doran</span>, Author of "Table Traits," "The Queens of -England under the House of Hanover." 12mo, Price $1 00.</p> - -<p>Calavar; The Knight of the Conquest. A Romance of Mexico. By the late -Dr. <span class="smcap">Robert Montgomery Bird</span>, Author of "Nick of the Woods;" with -Illustrations by Darley. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25.</p> - -<p>Nick of the Woods, or the Jibbenainosay. A Tale of Kentucky. By the late -Dr. <span class="smcap">Robert Montgomery Bird</span>, Author of "Calavar," "The Infidel," &c. New -and Revised Edition, with Illustrations by Darley. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 -25.</p> - -<p>The Pretty Plate; A New and Beautiful Juvenile. By <span class="smcap">John Vincent</span>. -Illustrated by Darley. 1 vol., 16mo, cloth, gilt. Price 50 cents; extra -gilt edges, 75 cents.</p> - -<p>Vasconselos. A Romance of the New World. By <span class="smcap">Frank Cooper</span>. 12mo, cloth. -Price $1 25.</p> - -<p>A Stray Yankee in Texas. By <span class="smcap">Philip Paxton</span>. With Illustrations by Darley. -Second Edition. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25.</p> - -<p>The Wonderful Adventures of Capt. Priest. By <span class="smcap">Philip Paxton</span>. With -Illustrations by Darley. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 00.</p> - -<p>Western Characters; being Types of Border Life in the Western States. By -<span class="smcap">J. L. M'Connel</span>, Author of "Talbot and Vernon," "The Glenns," &c., &c. -With Six Illustrations by Darley. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25.</p> - -<p>The Master-Builder; or, Life at a Trade. By <span class="smcap">Day Kellogg Lee</span>. 1 vol., -12mo. Price $1 00.</p> - -<p>Merrimack; or, Life at the Loom. By <span class="smcap">Day Kellogg Lee</span>. 1 vol., 12mo. Price -$1 00.</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A FEMALE SLAVE ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. -</div> - -<div style='margin:0.83em 0; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE<br /> -<span style='font-size:smaller'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE<br /> -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</span> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person -or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the -Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when -you share it without charge with others. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work -on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the -phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: -</div> - -<blockquote> - <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most - other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions - whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms - of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online - at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you - are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws - of the country where you are located before using this eBook. - </div> -</blockquote> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg™ License. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format -other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain -Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -provided that: -</div> - -<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'> - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation.” - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ - works. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. - </div> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right -of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread -public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state -visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. -</div> - -</div> - -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/55813-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/55813-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 57704cf..0000000 --- a/old/55813-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/55813-h/images/dec.jpg b/old/55813-h/images/dec.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index babcf7e..0000000 --- a/old/55813-h/images/dec.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/old/55813-8.txt b/old/old/55813-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3580c36..0000000 --- a/old/old/55813-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,15788 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Autobiography of a Female Slave, by -Martha Griffith Browne - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Autobiography of a Female Slave - -Author: Martha Griffith Browne - -Release Date: October 25, 2017 [EBook #55813] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A FEMALE SLAVE *** - - - - -Produced by MFR, Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - -+-------------------------------------------------+ -|Transcriber's note: | -| | -|Obvious typographic errors have been corrected. | -| | -+-------------------------------------------------+ - - -AUTOBIOGRAPHY - -OF A - -FEMALE SLAVE - -[Illustration: Decoration] - -REDFIELD - -34 BEEKMAN STREET, NEW YORK - -1857 - - -Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856, by - -J. S. REDFIELD, - -In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the -Southern District of New York. - -E. O. JENKINS, - -Printer and Stereotyper, - -NO. 26 FRANKFORT STREET. - - -TO ALL PERSONS - -INTERESTED IN THE CAUSE OF FREEDOM, - -This little Book - -IS - -RESPECTFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED, - -BY - -THE AUTHOR. - - - - -CONTENTS. - - PAGE -CHAPTER I. - -The Old Kentucky Farm--My Parentage and Early Training--Death of -the Master--The Sale-day--New Master and New Home, 9 - -CHAPTER II. - -A View of the New Home, 19 - -CHAPTER III. - -The Yankee School-Mistress--Her Philosophy--The American -Abolitionists, 29 - -CHAPTER IV. - -Conversation with Miss Bradly--A Light Breaks through the Darkness, 32 - -CHAPTER V. - -A Fashionable Tea-Table--Table-Talk--Aunt Polly's Experience--The -Overseer's Authority--The Whipping-Post--Transfiguring Power of -Divine Faith, 37 - -CHAPTER VI. - -Restored Consciousness--Aunt Polly's Account of my Miraculous -Return to Life--The Master's Affray with the Overseer, 51 - -CHAPTER VII. - -Amy's Narrative, and her Philosophy of a Future State, 58 - -CHAPTER VIII. - -Talk at the Farm-House--Threats--The New Beau--Lindy, 65 - -CHAPTER IX. - -Lindy's Boldness--A Suspicion--The Master's Accountability--The -Young Reformer--Words of Hope--The Cultivated Mulatto--The Dawn -of Ambition, 76 - -CHAPTER X. - -The Conversation, in which Fear and Suspicion are Aroused--The -Young Master, 84 - -CHAPTER XI. - -The Flight--Young Master's Apprehensions--His -Conversation--Amy--Edifying Talk among Ladies, 93 - -CHAPTER XII. - -Mr. Peterkin's Rage--Its Escape--Chat at the -Breakfast-Table--Change of Views--Power of the Flesh-pots, 101 - -CHAPTER XIII. - -Recollections--Consoling Influence of Sympathy--Amy's Doctrine -of the Soul--Talk at the Spring, 107 - -CHAPTER XIV. - -The Prattlings of Insanity--Old Wounds Reopen--The Walk to the -Doctor's--Influence of Nature, 116 - -CHAPTER XV. - -Quietude of the Woods--A Glimpse of the Stranger--Mrs. Mandy's -Words of Cruel Irony--Sad Reflections, 121 - -CHAPTER XVI. - -A Reflection--American Abolitionists--Disaffection in -Kentucky--The Young Master--His Remonstrance, 127 - -CHAPTER XVII. - -The Return of the Hunters, flushed with Success--Mr. Peterkin's -Vagary, 136 - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -The Essay of Wit--Young Abolitionist--His Influence--A Night at -the Door of the "Lock-Up," 147 - -CHAPTER XIX. - -Sympathy casteth out Fear--Consequence of the Night's -Watch--Troubled Reflections, 161 - -CHAPTER XX. - -The Trader--A Terrible Fright--Power of Prayer--Grief of -the Helpless, 170 - -CHAPTER XXI. - -Touching Farewell full of Pathos--The Parting--My Grief, 183 - -CHAPTER XXII. - -A Conversation--Hope Blossoms Out, but Charlestown is full -of Excitability, 191 - -CHAPTER XXIII. - -The Supper--Its Consequences--Loss of Silver--A Lonely Night--Amy, 201 - -CHAPTER XXIV. - -The Punishment--Cruelty--Its Fatal Consequence--Death, 211 - -CHAPTER XXV. - -Conversation of the Father and Son--The Discovery; its -Consequences--Death of the Young and Beautiful, 221 - -CHAPTER XXVI. - -The Funeral--Miss Bradly's Departure--The Dispute--Spirit -Questions, 232 - -CHAPTER XXVII. - -The Awful Confession of the Master--Death--its Cold Solemnity, 243 - -CHAPTER XXVIII. - -The Bridal--Its Ceremonies--A Trip, and a Change of -Homes--The Magnolia--A Stranger, 251 - -CHAPTER XXIX. - -The Argument, 259 - -CHAPTER XXX. - -The Misdemeanor--The Punishment--Its Consequence--Fright, 279 - -CHAPTER XXXI. - -The Day of Trial--Anxiety--The Volunteer Counsel--Verdict -of the Jury, 293 - -CHAPTER XXXII. - -Execution of the Sentence--A Change--Hope, 303 - -CHAPTER XXXIII. - -Sold--Life as a Slave--Pen--Charles' Story--Uncle Peter's -Troubles--A Star Peeping Forth from the Cloud, 314 - -CHAPTER XXXIV. - -Scene in the Pen--Starting "Down the River"--Uncle Peter's -Trial--My Rescue, 333 - -CHAPTER XXXV. - -The New Home--A Pleasant Family Group--Quiet Love-Meetings, 342 - -CHAPTER XXXVI. - -The New Associates--Depraved Views--Elsy's Mistake--Departure -of the Young Ladies--Loneliness, 348 - -CHAPTER XXXVII. - -The New Mistress--Her Kindness of Disposition--A Pretty -Home--And Love-Interviews in the Summer Days, 355 - -CHAPTER XXXVIII. - -An Awful Revelation--More Clouds to Darken the Sun of -Life--Sickness and blessed Insensibility, 366 - -CHAPTER XXXIX. - -Gradual Return of Happy Spirits--Brighter Prospects--An Old -Acquaintance, 374 - -CHAPTER XL. - -The Crisis of Existence--A Dreadful Page in Life, 381 - -CHAPTER XLI. - -A Revelation--Death the Peaceful Angel--Calmness, 391 - -CHAPTER XLII. - -Conclusion, 398 - - - - -AUTOBIOGRAPHY - -OF A - -FEMALE SLAVE. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -THE OLD KENTUCKY FARM--MY PARENTAGE AND EARLY TRAINING--DEATH OF THE -MASTER--THE SALE-DAY--NEW MASTER AND NEW HOME. - - -I was born in one of the southern counties of Kentucky. My earliest -recollections are of a large, old-fashioned farm-house, built of hewn -rock, in which my old master, Mr. Nelson, and his family, consisting of -a widowed sister, two daughters and two sons, resided. I have but an -indistinct remembrance of my old master. At times, a shadow of an idea, -like the reflection of a kind dream, comes over my mind, and, then, I -conjure him up as a large, venerable-looking man, with scanty, gray -locks floating carelessly over an amplitude of forehead; a wide, -hard-featured face, with yet a kindly glow of honest sentiment; broad, -strong teeth, much discolored by the continued use of tobacco. - -I well remember that, as a token of his good-will, he always presented -us (the slave-children) with a slice of buttered bread, when we had -finished our daily task. I have also a faint _reminiscence_ of his old -hickory cane being shaken over my head two or three times, and the -promise (which remained, until his death, unfulfilled) of a good -"_thrashing_" at some future period. - -My mother was a very bright mulatto woman, and my father, I suppose, -was a white man, though I know nothing of him; for, with the most -unpaternal feeling, he deserted me. A consequence of this amalgamation -was my very fair and beautiful complexion. My skin was no perceptible -shade darker than that of my young mistresses. My eyes were large and -dark, while a profusion of nut-brown hair, straight and soft as the -whitest lady's in the land, fell in showery redundance over my neck and -shoulders. I was often mistaken for a white child; and in my rambles -through the woods, many caresses have I received from wayside -travellers; and the exclamation, "What a beautiful child!" was quite -common. Owing to this personal beauty I was a great pet with my master's -sister, Mrs. Woodbridge, who, I believe I have stated, was a widow, and -childless; so upon me she lavished all the fondness of a warm and loving -heart. - -My mother, Keziah the cook, commonly called Aunt Kaisy, was possessed of -an indomitable ambition, and had, by the hardest means, endeavored to -acquire the rudiments of an education; but all that she had succeeded in -obtaining was a knowledge of the alphabet, and orthography in two -syllables. Being very imitative, she eschewed the ordinary negroes' -pronunciation, and adopted the mode of speech used by the higher classes -of whites. She was very much delighted when Mrs. Woodbridge or Miss -Betsy (as we called her) began to instruct me in the elements of the -English language. I inherited my mother's thirst for knowledge; and, by -intense study, did all I could to spare Miss Betsy the usual drudgery of -a teacher. The aptitude that I displayed, may be inferred from the fact -that, in three months from the day she began teaching me the alphabet, I -was reading, with some degree of fluency, in the "First Reader." I have -often heard her relate this as quite a literary and educational marvel. - -There were so many slaves upon the farm, particularly young ones, that I -was regarded as a supernumerary; consequently, spared from nearly all -the work. I sat in Miss Betsy's room, with book in hand, little heeding -anything else; and, if ever I manifested the least indolence, my mother, -with her wild ambition, was sure to rally me, and even offer the -tempting bribe of cakes and apples. - -I have frequently heard my old master say, "Betsy, you will spoil that -girl, teaching her so much." "She is too pretty for a slave," was her -invariable reply. - -Thus smoothly passed the early part of my life, until an event occurred -which was the cause of a change in my whole fate. My old master became -suddenly and dangerously ill. My lessons were suspended, for Miss -Betsy's services were required in the sick chamber. I used to slyly -steal to the open door of his room, and peep in, with wonder, at the -sombre group collected there. I recollect seeing my young masters and -mistresses weeping round a curtained bed. Then there came a time when -loud screams and frightful lamentations issued thence. There were -shrieks that struck upon my ear with a strange thrill; shrieks that -seemed to rend souls and break heart-strings. My young mistresses, fair, -slender girls, fell prostrate upon the floor; and my masters, noble, -manly men, bent over the bowed forms of their sisters, whispering words -which I did not hear, but which, my mature experience tells me, must -have been of love and comfort. - -There came, then, a long, narrow, black box, thickly embossed with -shining brass tacks, in which my old master was carefully laid, with his -pale, brawny hands crossed upon his wide chest. I remember that, one by -one, the slaves were called in to take a last look of him who had been, -to them, a kind master. They all came out with their cotton -handkerchiefs pressed to their eyes. I went in, with five other colored -children, to take my look. That wan, ghastly face, those sunken eyes and -pinched features, with the white winding sheet, and the dismal coffin, -impressed me with a new and wild terror; and, for weeks after, this -"vision of death" haunted my mind fearfully. - -But I soon after resumed my studies under Miss Betsy's tuition. Having -little work to do, and seldom seeing my young mistresses, I grew up in -the same house, scarcely knowing them. I was technically termed in the -family, "the child," as I was not black; and, being a slave, my masters -and mistresses would not admit that I was white. So I reached the age of -ten, still called "a child," and actually one in all life's experiences, -though pretty well advanced in education. I had a very good knowledge of -the rudiments, had bestowed some attention upon Grammar, and eagerly -read every book that fell in my way. Love of study taught me seclusive -habits; I read long and late; and the desire of a finished education -became the passion of my life. Alas! these days were but a poor -preparation for the life that was to come after! - -Miss Betsy, though a warm-hearted woman, was a violent advocate of -slavery. I have since been puzzled how to reconcile this with her -otherwise Christian character; and, though she professed to love me -dearly, and had bestowed so much attention upon the cultivation of my -mind, and expressed it as her opinion that I was too pretty and white to -be a slave, yet, if any one had spoken of giving me freedom, she would -have condemned it as domestic heresy. If I had belonged to her, I doubt -not but my life would have been a happy one. But, alas! a different lot -was assigned me! - -About two years and six months after my old master's death, a division -was made of the property. This involved a sale of everything, even the -household furniture. There were, I believe, heavy debts hanging over the -estate. These must be met, and the residue divided among the heirs. - -When it was made known in the kitchen that a sale was to be made, the -slaves were panic-stricken. Loud cries and lamentations arose, and my -young mistresses came often to the kitchen to comfort us. - -One of these young ladies, Miss Margaret, a tall, nobly-formed girl, -with big blue eyes and brown hair, frequently came and sat with us, -trying, in the most persuasive tones, to reconcile the old ones to their -destiny. Often did I see the large tears roll down her fair cheeks, and -her red lip quiver. These indications of sympathy, coming from such a -lovely being, cheered many an hour of after-captivity. - -But the "sale-day" came at last; I have a confused idea of it. The -ladies left the day before. Miss Betsy took an affectionate leave of me; -ah, I did not then know that it was a final one. - -The servants were all sold, as I heard one man say, at very high rates, -though not under the auctioneer's hammer. To that my young masters were -opposed. - -A tall, hard-looking man came up to me, very roughly seized my arm, bade -me open my mouth; examined my teeth; felt of my limbs; made me run a few -yards; ordered me to jump; and, being well satisfied with my activity, -said to Master Edward, "I will take her." Little comprehending the full -meaning of that brief sentence, I rejoined the group of children from -which I had been summoned. After awhile, my mother came up to me, -holding a wallet in her hand. The tear-drops stood on her cheeks, and -her whole frame was distorted with pain. She walked toward me a few -steps, then stopped, and suddenly shaking her head, exclaimed, "No, no, -I can't do it, I can't do it." I was amazed at her grief, but an -indefinable fear kept me from rushing to her. - -"Here, Kitty," she said to an old negro woman, who stood near, "you -break it to her. I can't do it. No, it will drive me mad. Oh, heaven! -that I was ever born to see this day." Then rocking her body back and -forward in a transport of agony, she gave full vent to her feelings in a -long, loud, piteous wail. Oh, God! that cry of grief, that knell of a -breaking heart, rang in my ears for many long and painful days. At -length Aunt Kitty approached me, and, laying her hand on my shoulder, -kindly said: - -"Alas, poor chile, you mus' place your trus' in the good God above, you -mus' look to Him for help; you are gwine to leave your mother now. You -are to have a new home, a new master, and I hope new friends. May the -Lord be with you." So saying, she broke suddenly away from me; but I saw -that her wrinkled face was wet with tears. - -With perhaps an idle, listless air, I received this astounding news; -but a whirlwind was gathering in my breast. What could she mean by new -friends and a new home? Surely I was to take my mother with me! No -mortal power would dare to sever _us_. Why, I remember that when master -sold the gray mare, the colt went also. Who could, who would, who dared, -separate the parent from her offspring? Alas! I had yet to learn that -the white man dared do all that his avarice might suggest; and there was -no human tribunal where the outcast African could pray for "right!" Ah, -when I now think of my poor mother's form, as it swayed like a willow in -the tempest of grief; when I remember her bitter cries, and see her arms -thrown franticly toward me, and hear her earnest--oh, how -earnest--prayer for death or madness, then I wonder where were Heaven's -thunderbolts; but retributive Justice _will_ come sooner or later, and -He who remembers mercy _now_ will not forget justice _then_. - -"Come along, gal, come along, gather up your duds, and come with me," -said a harsh voice; and, looking up from my bewildered reverie, I beheld -the man who had so carefully examined me. I was too much startled to -fully understand the words, and stood vacantly gazing at him. This -strange manner he construed into disrespect; and, raising his -riding-whip, he brought it down with considerable force upon my back. It -was the first lash I had ever given to me in anger. I smarted beneath -the stripe, and a cry of pain broke from my lips. Mother sprang to me, -and clasping my quivering form in her arms, cried out to my young -master, "Oh, Master Eddy, have mercy on me, on my child. I have served -you faithfully, I nursed you, I grew up with your poor mother, who now -sleeps in the cold ground. I beg you now to save _my child_," and she -sank down at his feet, whilst her tears fell fast. - -Then my poor old grandfather, who was called the patriarch slave, being -the eldest one of the race in the whole neighborhood, joined us. His -gray head, wrinkled face, and bent form, told of many a year of hard -servitude. - -"What is it, Massa Ed, what is it Kaisy be takin' on so 'bout? you -haint driv the _chile_ off? No--no! young massa only playin' trick now; -come Kais' don't be makin' fool of yoursef, young massa not gwine to -separate you and the chile." - -These words seemed to reanimate my mother, and she looked up at Master -Edward with a grateful expression of face, whilst she clasped her arms -tightly around his knees, exclaiming, "Oh, bless you, young master, -bless you forever, and forgive poor Kaisy for distrusting you, but -Pompey told me the child was sold away from me, and that gemman struck -her;" and here again she sobbed, and caught hold of me convulsively, as -if she feared I might be taken. - -I looked at my young master's face, and the ghastly whiteness which -overspread it, the tearful glister of his eye, and the strange tremor of -his figure, struck me with fright. _I knew my doom._ Young as I was, my -first dread was for my mother; I forgot my own perilous situation, and -mourned alone for her. I would have given worlds could insensibility -have been granted her. - -"I've got no time to be foolin' longer with these niggers, come 'long, -gal. Ann, I believe, you tole me was her name," he said, as he turned to -Master Edward. Another wild shriek from my mother, a deep sigh from -grandpap, and I looked at master Ed, who was striking his forehead -vehemently, and the tears were trickling down his cheeks. - -"Here, Mr. Peterkin, here!" exclaimed Master Edward, "here is your bill -of sale; I will refund your money; release me from my contract." - -Peterkin cast on him one contemptuous look, and with a low, chuckling -laugh, replied, "No; you must stand to your bargain. I want that gal; -she is likely, and it will do me good to thrash the devil out of her;" -turning to me he added, "quit your snuffling and snubbing, or I'll give -you something to cry 'bout;" and, roughly catching me by the arm, he -hurried me off, despite the entreaty of Master Ed, the cries of mother, -and the feeble supplication of my grandfather. I dared to cast one look -behind, and beheld my mother wallowing in the dust, whilst her frantic -cries of "save my child, save my child!" rang with fearful agony in my -ears. Master Ed covered his face with his hands, and old grandfather -reverently raised his to Heaven, as if beseeching mercy. The sight of -this anguish-stricken group filled me with a new sense of horror, and -forgetful of the presence of Peterkin, I burst into tears: but I was -quickly recalled by a fierce and stinging blow from his stout -riding-whip. - -"See here, nigger (this man, raised among negroes, used their dialect), -if you dar' to give another whimper, I'll beat the very life out 'en -yer." This terrific threat seemed to scare away every thought of -precaution; and, by a sudden and agile bound, I broke loose from him and -darted off to the sad group, from which I had been so ruthlessly torn, -and, sinking down before Master Ed, I cried out in a wild, despairing -tone, "Save me, good master, save me--kill me, or hide me from that -awful man, he'll kill me;" and, seizing hold of the skirt of his coat, I -covered my face with it to shut out the sight of Peterkin, whose red -eye-balls were glaring with fury upon me. Oath after oath escaped his -lips. Mother saw him rapidly approaching to recapture me, and, with the -noble, maternal instinct of self-sacrifice, sprang forward only to -receive the heavy blow of his uplifted whip. She reeled, tottered and -sank stunned upon the ground. - -"Thar, take that, you yaller hussy, and cuss yer nigger hide for daring -to raise this rumpus here," he said, as he rapidly strode past her. - -"Gently, Mr. Peterkin," exclaimed Master Edward, "let me speak to her; a -little encouragement is better than force." - -"This is my encouragement for them," and he shook his whip. - -Unheeding him, Master Edward turned to me, saying, "Ann, come now, be a -good girl, go with this gentleman, and be an obedient girl; he will give -you a kind, nice home; sometimes he will let you come to see your -mother. Here is some money for you to buy a pretty head-handkerchief; -now go with him." These kind words and encouraging tones, brought a -fresh gush of tears to my eyes. Taking the half-dollar which he offered -me, and reverently kissing the skirt of his coat, I rejoined Peterkin; -one look at his cold, harsh face, chilled my resolution; yet I had -resolved to go without another word of complaint. I could not suppress a -groan when I passed the spot where my mother lay still insensible from -the effects of the blow. - -One by one the servants, old and young, gave me a hearty shake of the -hand as I passed the place where they were standing in a row for the -inspection of buyers. - -I had nerved myself, and now that the parting from mother was over, I -felt that the bitterness of death was past, and I could meet anything. -Nothing now could be a trial, yet I was touched when the servants -offered me little mementoes and keepsakes. One gave a yard of ribbon, -another a half-paper of pins, a third presented a painted cotton -head-tie; others gave me ginger-cakes, candies, or small coins. Out of -their little they gave abundantly, and, small as were the bestowments, I -well knew that they had made sacrifices to give even so much. I was too -deeply affected to make any other acknowledgment than a nod of the head; -for a choking thickness was gathering in my throat, and a blinding mist -obscured my sight. I did not see my young mistresses, for they had left -the house, declaring they could not bear to witness a spectacle so -revolting to their feelings. - -Upon reaching the gate I observed a red-painted wagon, with an awning of -domestic cotton. Standing near it, and holding the horses, was an old, -worn, scarred, weather-beaten negro man, who instantly took off his hat -as Mr. Peterkin approached. - -"Well, Nace, you see I've bought this wench to-day," and he shook his -whip over my head. - -"Ya! ya! Massa, but she ha' got one goot home wid yer." - -"Yes, has she, Nace; but don't yer think the slut has been cryin' 'bout -it!" - -"Lor' bless us, Massa, but a little of the beech-tree will fetch that -sort of truck out of her," and old Nace showed his broken teeth, as he -gave a forced laugh. - -"I guess I can take the fool out en her, by the time I gives her two or -three swings at the whippin'-post." - -Nace shook his head knowingly, and gave a low guttural laugh, by way of -approval of his master's capabilities. - -"Jump in the wagon, gal," said my new master, "jump in quick; I likes to -see niggers active, none of your pokes 'bout me; but this will put -sperit in 'em," and there was another defiant flourish of the whip. - -I got in with as much haste and activity as I could possibly command. -This appeared to please Mr. Peterkin, and he gave evidence of it by -saying,-- - -"Well, that does pretty well; a few stripes a day, and you'll be a -valerble slave;" and, getting in the vehicle himself, he ordered Nace to -drive on "_pretty peart_," as night would soon overtake us. - -Just as we were starting I perceived Josh, one of my playmates, running -after us with a small bundle, shouting,-- - -"Here, Ann, you've lef' yer bundle of close." - -"Stop, Nace," said Mr. Peterkin, "let's git the gal's duds, or I'll be -put to the 'spence of gittin' new ones for her." - -Little Josh came bounding up, and, with an affectionate manner, handed -me the little wallet that contained my entire wardrobe. I leaned -forward, and, in a muffled tone, but with my whole heart hanging on my -lip, asked Josh "how is mother?" but a cut of Nace's whip, and a quick -"gee-up," put me beyond the hearing of the reply. I strained my eyes -after Josh, to interpret the motion of his lips. - -In a state of hopeless agony I sat through the remainder of the journey. -The coarse jokes and malignant threats of Mr. Peterkin were answered -with laughing and dutiful assent by the veteran Nace. I tried to deceive -my persecutors by feigning sleep, but, ah, a strong finger held my lids -open, and slumber fled away to gladden lighter hearts and bless brighter -eyes. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -A VIEW OF THE NEW HOME. - - -The young moon had risen in mild and meek serenity to bless the earth. -With a strange and fluctuating light the pale rays played over the -leaves and branches of the forest trees, and flickered fantastically -upon the ground! Only a few stars were discernible in the highest dome -of heaven! The lowing of wandering cows, or the chirp of a night-bird, -had power to beguile memory back to a thousand vanished joys. I mused -and wept; still the wagon jogged along. Mr. Peterkin sat half-sleeping -beside old Nace, whose occasional "gee-up" to the lagging horses, was -the only human sound that broke the soft serenity! Every moment seemed -to me an age, for I dreaded the awakening of my cruel master. Ah, little -did I dream that that horrid day's experience was but a brief foretaste -of what I had yet to suffer; and well it was for me that a kind and -merciful Providence veiled that dismal future from my gaze. About -midnight I had fallen into a quiet sleep, gilded by the sweetest dream, -a dream of the old farm-house, of mother, grandfather, and my -companions. - -From this vision I was aroused by the gruff voice of Peterkin, bidding -me get out of the wagon. That voice was to me more frightful and fearful -than the blast of the last trump. Springing suddenly up, I threw off the -shackles of sleep; and consciousness, with all its direful burden, -returned fully to me. Looking round, by the full light of the moon, I -beheld a large country house, half hidden among trees. A white paling -enclosed the ground, and the scent of dewy roses and other garden -flowers filled the atmosphere. - -"Now, Nace, put up the team, and git yourself to bed," said Peterkin. -Turning to me he added, "give this gal a blanket, and let her sleep on -the floor in Polly's cabin; keep a good watch on her, that she don't try -to run off." - -"Needn't fear dat, Massa, for de bull-dog tear her to pieces if she -'tempt dat. By gar, I'd like to see her be for tryin' it;" and the old -negro gave a fiendish laugh, as though he thought it would be rare -sport. - -Mr. Peterkin entered the handsome house, of which he was the rich and -respected owner, whilst I, conducted by Nace, repaired to a dismal -cabin. After repeated knocks at the door of this most wretched hovel, an -old crone of a negress muttered between her clenched teeth, "Who's dar?" - -"It's me, Polly; what you be 'bout dar, dat you don't let me in?" - -"What for you be bangin' at my cabin? I's got no bisness wid you." - -"Yes, but I's got bisness wid you; stir yer ole stumps now." - -"I shan't be for troublin' mysef and lettin' you in my cabin at dis hour -ob de night-time; and if you doesn't be off, I'll make Massa gib you a -sound drubbin' in de mornin'." - -"Ha, ha! now I'm gots you sure; for massa sends me here himsef." - -This was enough for Polly; she broke off all further colloquy, and -opened the door instantly. - -The pale moonlight rested as lovingly upon that dreary, unchinked, rude, -and wretched hovel, as ever it played over the gilded roof and frescoed -dome of ancient palaces; but ah, what squalor did it not reveal! There, -resting upon pallets of straw, like pigs in a litter, were groups of -children, and upon a rickety cot the old woman reposed her aged limbs. -How strange, lonely, and forbidding appeared that tenement, as the old -woman stood in the doorway, her short and scanty kirtles but poorly -concealing her meagre limbs. A dark, scowling countenance looked out -from under a small cap of faded muslin; little bleared eyes glared upon -me, like the red light of a heated furnace. Instinctively I shrank back -from her, but Nace was tired, and not wishing to be longer kept from -his bed, pushed me within the door, saying-- - -"Thar, Polly, Massa say dat gal mus' sleep in dar." - -"Come 'long in, gal," said the woman, and closing the door, she pointed -to a patch of straw, "sleep dar." - -The moonbeams stole in through the crevices and cracks of the cabin, and -cast a mystic gleam upon the surrounding objects. Without further word -or comment, Polly betook herself to her cot, and was soon snoring away -as though there were no such thing as care or slavery in the world. But -to me sleep was a stranger. There I lay through the remaining hours of -the night, wearily thinking of mother and home. "Sold," I murmured. -"What is it to be sold? Why was _I_ sold? Why separated from my mother -and friends? Why couldn't mother come with me, or I stay with her? I -never saw Mr. Peterkin before. Who gave him the right to force me from -my good home and kind friends?" These questions would arise in my mind, -and, alas! I had no answers for them. Young and ignorant as I was, I had -yet some glimmering idea of justice. Later in life, these same questions -have often come to me, as sad commentaries upon the righteousness of -human laws; and, when sitting in splendid churches listening to ornate -and _worldly_ harangues from _holy men_, these same thoughts have -tingled upon my tongue. And I have been surprised to see how strangely -these men mistake the definition of servitude. Why, from the exposition -of the worthy divines, one would suppose that servitude was a fair -synonym for slavery! Admitting that we are the descendants of the -unfortunate Ham, and endure our bondage as the penalty affixed to his -crime, there can be no argument or fact adduced, whereby to justify -slavery as a moral right. Serving and being a slave are very different. -And why may not Ham's descendants claim a reprieve by virtue of the -passion and death of Christ? Are we excluded from the grace of that -atonement? No; there is no argument, no reason, to justify slavery, save -that of human cupidity. But there will come a day, when each and every -one who has violated that divine rule, "Do unto others as you would -have them do unto you," will stand with a fearful accountability before -the Supreme Judge. Then will there be loud cries and lamentations, and a -wish for the mountains to hide them from the eye of Judicial Majesty. - -The next morning I rose with the dawn, and sitting upright upon my -pallet, surveyed the room and its tenants. There, in comfortless -confusion, upon heaps of straw, slumbered five children, dirty and -ragged. On the broken cot, with a remnant of a coverlet thrown over her, -lay Aunt Polly. A few broken stools and one pine box, with a shelf -containing a few tins, constituted the entire furniture. - -"And this wretched pen is to be my home; these dirty-looking children my -associates." Oh, how dismal were my thoughts; but little time had I for -reflection. The shrill sound of a hunting-horn was the summons for the -servants to arise, and woe unto him or her who was found missing or -tardy when the muster-roll was called. Aunt Polly and the five children -sprang up, and soon dressed themselves. They then appeared in the yard, -where a stout, athletic man, with full beard and a dull eye, stood with -whip in hand. He called over the names of all, and portioned out their -daily task. With a smile more of terror than pleasure, they severally -received their orders. I stood at the extremity of the range. After -disposing of them in order, the overseer (for such he was) looked at me -fiercely, and said: - -"Come here, gal." - -With a timid step, I obeyed. - -"What are you fit for? Not much of anything, ha?" and catching hold of -my ear he pulled me round in front of him, saying, - -"Well, you are likely-looking; how much work can you do?" - -I stammered out something as to my willingness to do anything that was -required of me. He examined my hands, and concluding from their -dimensions that I was best suited for house-work, he bade me remain in -the kitchen until after breakfast. When I entered the room designated, -par politesse, as the kitchen, I was surprised to find such a desolate -and destitute-looking place. The apartment, which was very small, seemed -to be a sort of Pandora's Box, into which everything of household or -domestic use had been crowded. The walls were hung round with saddles, -bridles, horse-blankets, &c. Upon a swinging shelf in the centre of the -room were ranged all the seeds, nails, ropes, dried elms, and the rest -of the thousand and one little notions of domestic economy. A rude, -wooden shelf contained a dark, dusty row of unclean tins; broken stools -and old kegs were substituted for chairs; upon these were stationed four -or five ebony children; one of them, a girl about nine years old, with a -dingy face, to which soap and water seemed foreign, and with shaggy, -moppy hair, twisted in short, stringy plaits, sat upon a broken keg, -with a squalid baby in her lap, which she jostled upon her knee, whilst -she sang in a sharp key, "hushy-by-baby." Three other wretched children, -in tow-linen dresses, whose brevity of skirts made a sad appeal to the -modesty of spectators, were perched round this girl, whom they called -Amy. They were furiously begging Aunt Polly (the cook) to give them a -piece of hoe-cake. - -"Be off wid you, or I'll tell Massa, or de overseer," answered the -beldame, as their solicitations became more clamorous. This threat had -power to silence the most earnest demands of the stomach, for the fiend -of hunger was far less dreaded than the lash of Mr. Jones, the overseer. -My entrance, and the sight of a strange face, was a diversion for them. -They crowded closer to Amy, and eyed me with a half doubtful, and -altogether ludicrous air. - -"Who's her?" "whar she come from?" "when her gwyn away?" and such like -expressions, escaped them, in stifled tones. - -"Come in, set down," said Aunt Polly to me, and, turning to the group of -children, she levelled a poker at them. - -"Keep still dar, or I'll break your pates wid dis poker." - -Instantly they cowered down beside Amy, still peeping over her -shoulder, to get a better view of me. With a very uneasy feeling I -seated myself upon the broken stool, to which Aunt Polly pointed. One of -the boldest of the children came up to me, and, slyly touching my dress, -said, "tag," then darted off to her hiding-place, with quite the air of -a victress. Amy made queer grimaces at me. Every now and then placing -her thumb to her nose, and gyrating her finger towards me, she would -drawl out, "you ka-n-t kum it." All this was perfect jargon to me; for -at home, though we had been but imperfectly protected by clothing from -the vicissitudes of seasons, and though our fare was simple, coarse, and -frugal, had we been kindly treated, and our manners trained into -something like the softness of humanity. There, as regularly as the -Sunday dawned, were we summoned to the house to hear the Bible read, and -join (though at a respectful distance) with the family in prayer. But -this I subsequently learned was an unusual practice in the neighborhood, -and was attributed to the fact, that my master's wife had been born in -the State of Massachusetts, where the people were crazy and fanatical -enough to believe that "niggers" had souls, and were by God held to be -responsible beings. - -The loud blast of the horn was the signal for the "hands" to suspend -their labor and come to breakfast. Two negro men and three women rushed -in at the door, ravenous for their rations. I looked about for the -table, but, seeing none, concluded it had yet to be arranged; for at -home we always took our meals on a table. I was much surprised to see -each one here take a slice of fat bacon and a pone of bread in his or -her hand, and eat it standing. - -"Well," said one man, "I'd like to git a bit more bread." - -"You's had your sher," replied Aunt Polly. "Mister Jones ses one slice -o' meat and a pone o' bread is to be the 'lowance." - -"I knows it, but if thar's any scraps left from the house table, you -wimmin folks always gits it." - -"Who's got de bes' right? Sure, and arn't de one who cooks it got de -bes' right to it?" asked Polly, with a triumphant voice. - -"Ha, ha!" cried Nace, "here comes de breakfust leavin's, now who's -smartest shall have 'em;" whereupon Nace, his comrade, and the three -women, seized a waiter of fragments of biscuit, broiled ham, coffee, -&c., the remains of the breakfast prepared for the white family. - -"By gar," cried Nace, "I've got de coffee-pot, and I'll drink dis;" so, -without further ceremony, he applied the spout to his mouth, and, sans -cream or sugar, he quaffed off the grounds. Jake possessed himself of -the ham, whilst the two women held a considerable contest over a -biscuit. Blow and lie passed frequently between them. Aunt Polly -brandished her skimmer-spoon, as though it were Neptune's trident of -authority; still she could not allay the confusion which these excited -cormorants raised. The children yelled out and clamored for a bit; the -sight and scent of ham and biscuits so tantalized their palates, that -they forgot even the terror of the whip. I stood all agape, looking on -with amazement. - -The two belligerent women stood with eyes blazing like comets, their -arms twisted around each other in a very decided and furious rencontre. -One of them, losing her balance, fell upon the floor, and, dragging the -other after her, they rolled and wallowed in a cloud of dust, whilst the -disputed biscuit, in the heat of the affray, had been dropped on the -hearth, where, unperceived by the combatants, Nace had possessed himself -of it, and was happily masticating it. - -Melinda, the girl from whom the waiter had been snatched, doubtless much -disappointed by the loss of the debris, returned to the house and made a -report of the fracas. - -Instantly and unexpectedly, Jones, flaming with rage, stood in the midst -of the riotous group. Seizing hold of the women, he knocked them on -their heads with his clenched fists. - -"Hold, black wretches, come, I will give you a leetle fun; off now to -the post." - -Then such appeals for mercy, promises of amendment, entreaties, excuses, -&c., as the two women made, would have touched a heart of stone; but -Jones had power to resist even the prayers of an angel. To him the -cries of human suffering and the agony of distress were music. My heart -bled when I saw the two victims led away, and I put my hands to my ears -to shut out the screams of distress which rang with a strange terror on -the morning air. Poor, oppressed African! thorny and rugged is your path -of life! Many a secret sigh and bleeding tear attest your cruel -martyrdom! Surely He, who careth alike for the high and the low, looks -not unmoved upon you, wearing and groaning beneath the pressing burden -and galling yoke of a most inhuman bondage. For you there is no broad -rock of Hope or Peace to cast its shadow of rest in this "weary land." -You must sow in tears and reap in sorrow. But He, who led the children -of Israel from the house of bondage and the fetters of captivity, will, -in His own inscrutable way, lead you from the condition of despair, even -by the pillar of fire and the cloud. Great changes are occurring daily, -old constitutions are tottering, old systems, fraught with the cruelty -of darker ages, are shaking to their centres. Master minds are -everywhere actively engaged. Keen eyes and vigilant hearts are open to -the wrongs of the poor, the lowly and the outcast. An avenging angel -sits concealed 'mid the drapery of the wasting cloud, ready to pour the -vials of God's wrath upon a haughty and oppressive race. In the -threatened famine, see we nothing but an accidental failure of the -crops? In the exhausted coffers and empty public treasury, is there -nothing taught but the lesson of national extravagance? In the virulence -of disease, the increasing prevalence of fatal epidemics, what do we -read? Send for the seers, the wise men of the nation, and bid them -translate the "mysterious writing on the wall." Ah, well may ye shake, -Kings of Mammon, shake upon your tottering throne of human bones! Give -o'er your sports, suspend your orgies, dash down the jewelled cup of -unhallowed joy, sparkling as it is to the very brim. You must pay, like -him of old, the fearful price of sin. God hath not heard, unmoved, the -anguished cries of a down-trodden and enslaved nation! And it needs no -Daniel to tell, that "God hath numbered your Kingdom and it is -finished." - -As may be supposed, I had little appetite for my breakfast, but I -managed to deceive others into the belief that I had made a hearty meal. -But those screams from half-famished wretches had a fatal and terrifying -fascination; never once could I forget it. - -A look of fright was on the face of all. "They be gettin' awful beatin' -at the post," muttered Nace, whilst a sardonic smile flitted over his -hard features. Was it not sad to behold the depths of degradation into -which this creature had fallen? He could smile at the anguish of a -fellow-creature. Originally, his nature may have been kind and gentle; -but a continuous system of brutality had so deadened his sensibilities, -that he had no humanity left. _For this_, the white man is accountable. - -After the breakfast was over, I received a summons to the house. -Following Melinda, I passed the door-sill, and stood in the presence of -the assembled household. A very strange group I thought them. Two girls -were seated beside the uncleared breakfast table, "trying their fortune" -(as the phrase goes) with a cup of coffee-grounds and a spoon. The elder -of the two was a tall, thin girl, with sharp features, small gray eyes, -and red-hair done up in frizettes; the other was a prim, dark-skinned -girl, with a set of nondescript features, and hair of no particular hue, -or "just any color;" but with the same harsh expression of face that -characterized the elder. As she received the magic cup from her sister, -she exclaimed, "La, Jane, it will only be two years until you are -married," and made a significant grimace at her father (Mr. Peterkin), -who sat near the window, indulging in the luxury of a cob-pipe. The -taller girl turned toward me, and asked, - -"Father, is that the new girl you bought at old Nelson's sale?" - -"Yes, that's the gal. Does she suit you?" - -"Yes, but dear me! how very light she is--almost white! I know she will -be impudent." - -"She has come to the wrong place for the practice of that article," -suggested the other. - -"Yes, gal, you has got to mind them ar' _wimmen_," said Mr. Peterkin to -me, as he pointed toward his daughters. - -"Father, I do wish you would quit that vulgarism; say _girl_, not gal, -and _ladies_, not women." - -"Oh, I was never _edicated_, like you." - -"_Educated_ is the word." - -"Oh, confound your dictionaries! Ever since that school-marm come out -from Yankee-land, these neighborhood gals talk so big, nobody can -understand 'em." - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -THE YANKEE SCHOOL-MISTRESS--HER PHILOSOPHY--THE AMERICAN ABOLITIONISTS. - - -The family with whom I now found a home, consisted of Mr. Peterkin and -his two daughters, Jane and Matilda, and a son, John, much younger than -the ladies. - -The death of Mrs. Peterkin had occurred about three years before I went -to live with them. The girls had been very well educated by a Miss -Bradly, from Massachusetts, a spinster of "no particular age." From her, -the Misses Peterkin learned to set a great value upon correct and -elegant language. She was the model and instructress of the country -round; for, under her jurisdiction, nearly all the farmers' daughters -had been initiated into the mysteries of learning. Scattered about, over -the house, I used to frequently find odd leaves of school-books, -elementary portions of natural sciences, old readers, story-books, -novels, &c. These I eagerly devoured; but I had to be very secret about -it, studying by dying embers, reading by moonlight, sun-rise, &c. Had I -been discovered, a severe punishment would have followed. Miss Jane used -to say, "a literary negro was disgusting, not to be tolerated." Though -she quarrelled with the vulgar talk and bad pronunciation of her father, -he was made of too rough material to receive a polish; and, though Miss -Bradly had improved the minds of the girls, her efforts to soften their -hearts had met with no success. They were the same harsh, cold and -selfish girls that she had found them. It was Jane's boast that she had -whipped more negroes than any other girl of her age. Matilda, though -less severe, had still a touch of the tigress. - -This family lived in something like "style." They were famed for their -wealth and social position throughout the neighborhood. The house was a -low cottage structure, with large and airy apartments; an arching piazza -ran the whole length of the building, and around its trellised -balustrade the clematis vine twined in rich luxuriance. A primrose-walk -led up to the door, and the yard blossomed like a garden, with the -fairest flowers. It was a very Paradise of homes; pity, ah pity 'twas, -that human fiends marred its beauty. There the sweet flowers bloomed, -the young birds warbled, pure springs gushed forth with limpid -joy--there truly, "All, save the spirit of man, was divine." The -traveller often paused to admire the tasteful arrangements of the -grounds, the neat and artistic plan of the house, and the thorough "air" -of everything around. It seemed to bespeak refined minds, and delicate, -noble natures; but oh, the flowers were no symbols of the graces of -their hearts, for the dwellers of this highly-adorned spot were people -of coarse natures, rough and cruel as barbarians. The nightly stars and -the gentle moon, the deep glory of the noontide, or the blowing of -twilight breezes over this chosen home, had no power to ennoble or -elevate their souls. Acts of diabolical cruelty and wickedness were -there perpetrated without the least pang of remorse or regret. Whilst -the white portion of the family were revelling in luxury, the slaves -were denied the most ordinary necessaries. The cook, who prepared the -nicest dainties, the most tempting viands, had to console herself with a -scanty diet, coarse enough to shock even a beggar. What wonder, then, if -the craving of the stomach should allow her no escape from downright -theft! Who is there that could resist? Where is the honesty that could -not, under such circumstances, find an argument to justify larceny? - -Every evening Miss Bradly came to spend an hour or so with them. The -route from the school to her boarding-house wound by Mr. Peterkin's -residence, and the temptation to talk to the young ladies, who were -emphatically the belles of the neighborhood, was too great for -resistance. This lady was of that class of females which we meet in -every quarter of the globe,--of perfectly kind intentions, yet without -the independence necessary for their open and free expression. Bred in -the North, and having from her infancy imbibed the spirit of its free -institutions, in her secret soul she loathed the abomination of slavery, -every pulse of her heart cried out against it, yet with a strange -compliance she lived in its midst, never once offering an objection or -an argument against it. It suited _her policy_ to laugh with the -pro-slavery man at the fanaticism of the Northern Abolitionist. With a -Judas-like hypocrisy, she sold her conscience for silver; and for a mess -of pottage, bartered the noble right of free expression. 'Twas she, base -renegade from a glorious cause, who laughed loudest and repeated -wholesale libels and foul aspersions upon the able defenders of -abolition--noble and generous men, lofty philanthropists, who are -willing, for the sake of principle, to wear upon their brows the mark of -social and political ostracism! But a day is coming, a bright millennial -day, when the names of these inspired prophets shall be inscribed -proudly upon the litany of freedom; when their noble efforts for social -reform shall be told in wondering pride around the winter's fire. Then -shall their fame shine with a glory which no Roman tradition can -eclipse. Freed from calumny, the names of Parker, Seward and Sumner, -will be ranked, as they deserve to be, with Washington, Franklin and -Henry. All glory to the American Abolitionists. Though they must now -possess their souls in patience, and bear the brand of social -opprobrium, yet will posterity accord them the meed of everlasting -honor. They "who sow in dishonor shall be raised in glory." Already the -watchman upon the tower has discerned the signal. A light beameth in the -East, which no man can quench. A fire has broken forth, which needs only -a breath to fan it into a flame. The eternal law of sovereign right will -vindicate itself. In the hour of feasting and revelry the dreadful bolt -of retribution fell upon Gomorrah. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -CONVERSATION WITH MISS BRADLY--A LIGHT BREAKS THROUGH THE DARKNESS. - - -I had been living with Mr. Peterkin about three years, during which time -I had frequently seen Miss Bradly. One evening when she called (as was -her custom after the adjournment of school), she found, upon inquiry, -that the young ladies had gone out, and would not probably be back for -several hours. She looked a little disconcerted, and seemed doubtful -whether she would go home or remain. I had often observed her -attentively watching me, yet I could not interpret the look; sometimes I -thought it was of deep, earnest pity. Then it appeared only an anxious -curiosity; and as commiseration was a thing which I seldom met with, I -tried to guard my heart against anything like hope or trust; but on this -afternoon I was particularly struck by her strange and irresolute -manner. She turned several times as if to leave, then suddenly stopped, -and, looking very earnestly at me, asked, "Did you say the girls would -not return for several hours?" - -Upon receiving an answer in the affirmative, she hesitated a moment, and -then inquired for Mr. Peterkin. He was also from home, and would -probably be absent for a day or two. "Is there no white person about the -place?" she asked, with some trepidation. - -"No one is here but the slaves," I replied, perhaps in a sorrowful tone, -for the word "slave" always grated upon my ear, yet I frequently used -it, in obedience to a severe and imperative conventionality. - -"Well then, Ann, come and sit down near me; I want to talk with you -awhile." - -This surprised me a great deal. I scarcely knew what to do. The very -idea of sitting down to a conversation with a white lady seemed to me -the wildest improbability. A vacant stare was the only answer I could -make. Certainly, I did not dream of her being in earnest. - -"Come on, Ann," she said, coaxingly; but, seeing that my amazement -increased, she added, in a more persuasive tone, "Don't be afraid, I am -a friend to the colored race." - -This seemed to me the strangest fiction. A white lady, and yet a friend -to the colored race! Oh, impossible! such condescension was unheard of! -What! she a refined woman, with a snowy complexion, to stoop from her -proud elevation to befriend the lowly Ethiopian! Why, she could not, she -dare not! Almost stupefied with amazement, I stood, with my eyes -intently fixed upon her. - -"Come, child," she said, in a kind tone, and placing her hand upon my -shoulder, she endeavored to seat me beside her, "look up,--be not -ashamed, for I am truly your friend. Your down-cast look and melancholy -manner have often struck me with sorrow." - -To this I could make no reply. Utterance was denied me. My tongue clove -to the roof of my mouth; a thick, filmy veil gathered before my sight; -and there I stood like one turned to stone. But upon being frequently -reassured by her gentle manner and kind words, I at length controlled my -emotions, and, seating myself at her feet, awaited her communication. - -"Ann, you are not happy here?" - -I said nothing, but she understood my look. - -"Were you happy at home?" - -"I was;" and the words were scarcely audible. - -"Did they treat you kindly there?" - -"Indeed they did; and there I had a mother, and was not lonely." - -"They did not beat you?" - -"No, no, they did not," and large tears gushed from my burning -eyes;--for I remembered with anguish, how many a smarting blow had been -given to me by Mr. Jones, how many a cuff by Mr. Peterkin, and ten -thousand knocks, pinches, and tortures, by the young ladies. - -"Don't weep, child," said Miss Bradly, in a soothing tone, and she laid -her arm caressingly around my neck. This kindness was too much for my -fortitude, and bursting through all restraints I gave vent to my -feelings in a violent shower of tears. She very wisely allowed me some -time for the gratification of this luxury. I at length composed myself, -and begged her pardon for this seeming disrespect. - -"But ah, my dear lady, you have spoken so kindly to me that I forgot -myself." - -"No apology, my child, I tell you again that I am your friend, and with -me you can be perfectly free. Look upon me as a sister; but now that -your excited feelings have become allayed, let me ask you why your -master sold you?" - -I explained to her that it was necessary to the equal division of the -estate that some of the slaves should be sold, and that I was among the -number. - -"A bad institution is this one of slavery. What fearful entailments of -anguish! Manage it as the most humane will, or can, still it has -horrible results. Witness your separation from your mother. Did these -thoughts never occur to you?" - -I looked surprised, but dared not tell her that often had vague doubts -of the justice of slavery crossed my mind. Ah, too much I feared the -lash, and I answered only by a mournful look of assent. - -"Ann, did you never hear of the Abolition Society?" - -I shook my head. She paused, as if doubtful of the propriety of making a -disclosure; but at length the better principle triumphed, and she said, -"There is in the Northern States an organization which devotes its -energies and very life to the cause of the slave. They wish to abolish -the shameful system, and make you and all your persecuted race as free -and happy as the whites." - -"Does there really exist such a society; or is it only a wild fable -that you tell me, for the purpose of allaying my present agony?" - -"No, child; I do not deceive you. This noble and beneficent society -really lives; but it does not, I regret to say, flourish as it should." - -"And why?" I asked, whilst a new wonder was fastening on my mind. - -"Because," she answered, "the larger portion of the whites are mean and -avaricious enough to desire, for the sake of pecuniary aggrandizement, -the enslavement of a race, whom the force of education and hereditary -prejudice have taught them to regard as their own property." - -I did but dimly conceive her meaning. A slow light was breaking through -my cloudy brain, kindling and inflaming hopes that now shine like -beacons over the far waste of memory. Should I, could I, ever be _free_? -Oh, bright and glorious dream! how it did sparkle in my soul, and cheer -me through the lonely hours of bondage! This hope, this shadow of a -hope, shone like a mirage far away upon the horizon of a clouded future. - -Miss Bradly looked thoughtfully at me, as if watching the effect of her -words; but she could not see that the seed which she had planted, -perhaps carelessly, was destined to fructify and flourish through the -coming seasons. I longed to pour out my heart to her; for she had, by -this ready "sesame," unlocked its deepest chambers. I dared not unfold -even to her the wild dreams and strange hopes which I was indulging. - -I spied Melinda coming up, and signified to Miss Bradly that it would be -unsafe to prolong the conversation, and quickly she departed; not, -however, without reassuring me of the interest which she felt in my -fate. - -"What was Miss Emily Bradly talking wid you 'bout?" demanded Melinda, in -a surly tone. - -"Nothing that concerns you," I answered. - -"Well, but you'll see that it consarns yerself, when I goes and tells -Masser on you." - -"What can you tell him on me?" - -"Oh, I knows, I hearn you talking wid dat ar' woman;" and she gave a -significant leer of her eye, and lolled her tongue out of her mouth, à -la mad dog. - -I was much disturbed lest she had heard the conversation, and should -make a report of it, which would redound to the disadvantage of my new -friend. I went about my usual duties with a slow and heavy heart; still, -sometimes, like a star shining through clouds, was that little bright -hope of liberty. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -A FASHIONABLE TEA-TABLE--TABLE-TALK--AUNT POLLY'S EXPERIENCE--THE -OVERSEER'S AUTHORITY--THE WHIPPING-POST--TRANSFIGURING POWER OF DIVINE -FAITH. - - -That evening when the family returned, I was glad to find the young -ladies in such an excellent humor. It was seldom Miss Jane, whose -peculiar property I was, ever gave me a kind word; and I was surprised -on this occasion to hear her say, in a somewhat gentle tone: - -"Well, Ann, come here, I want you to look very nice to-night, and wait -on the table in style, for I am expecting company;" and, with a sort of -half good-natured smile, she tossed an old faded neck-ribbon to me, -saying, - -"There is a present for you." I bowed low, and made a respectful -acknowledgment of thanks, which she received in an unusually complacent -manner. - -Immediately I began to make arrangements for supper, and to get myself -in readiness, which was no small matter, as my scanty wardrobe furnished -no scope for the exercise of taste. In looking over my trunk, I found a -white cotton apron, which could boast of many mice-bites and -moth-workings; but with a needle and thread I soon managed to make it -appear decent, and, combing my hair as neatly as possible, and tying the -ribbon which Miss Jane had given me around it, I gave the finishing -touch to my toilette, and then set about arranging the table. I assorted -the tea-board, spoons, cups, saucers, &c., placed a nice damask napkin -at each seat, and turned down the round little plates of white French -china. The silver forks and ivory-handled knives were laid round the -table in precise order. This done, I surveyed my work with an air of -pride. Smiling complacently to myself, I proceeded to Miss Jane's room, -to request her to come and look at it, and express her opinion. - -On reaching her apartment, I found her dressed with great care, in a -pink silk, with a rich lace berthé, and pearl ornaments. Her red hair -was oiled until its fiery hue had darkened into a becoming auburn, and -the metallic polish of the French powder had effectually concealed the -huge freckles which spotted her cheeks. - -Dropping a low courtesy, I requested her to come with me to the -dining-room and inspect my work. With a smile, she followed, and upon -examination, seemed well pleased. - -"Now, Ann, if you do well in officiating, it will be well for you; but -if you fail, if you make one mistake, you had better never been born, -for," and she grasped me strongly by the shoulder, "I will flay you -alive; you shall ache and smart in every limb and nerve." - -Terror-stricken at this threat, I made the most earnest promises to -exert my very best energies. Yet her angry manner and threatening words -so unnerved me, that I was not able to go on with the work in the same -spirit in which I had begun, for we all know what a paralysis fear is to -exertion. - -I stepped out on the balcony for some purpose, and there, standing at -the end of the gallery, but partially concealed by the clematis -blossoms, stood Miss Jane, and a tall gentleman was leaning over the -railing talking very earnestly to her. In that uncertain light I could -see the flash of her eye and the crimson glow of her cheek. She was -twirling and tearing to pieces, petal by petal, a beautiful rose which -she held in her hand. Here, I thought here is happiness; this woman -loves and is beloved. She has tasted of that one drop which sweetens the -whole cup of existence. Oh, what a thing it is to be _free_--free and -independent, with power and privilege to go whithersoever you choose, -with no cowardly fear, no dread of espionage, with the right to hold -your head proudly aloft, and return glance for glance, not shrink and -cower before the white man's look, as we poor slaves _must_ do. But not -many moments could I thus spend in thought, and well, perhaps, it was -for me that duty broke short all such unavailing regrets. - -Hastening back to the dining-room, I gave another inquiring look at the -table, fearful that some article had been omitted. Satisfying myself on -this point, I moved on to the kitchen, where Aunt Polly was busy frying -a chicken. - -"Here, child," she exclaimed, "look in thar at them biscuits. See is -they done. Oh, that's prime, browning beautiful-like," she said, as I -drew from the stove a pan of nice biscuits, "and this ar' chicken is -mighty nice. Oh, but it will make the young gemman smack his lips," and -wiping the perspiration from her sooty brow, she drew a long breath, and -seated herself upon a broken stool. - -"Wal, this ar' nigger is tired. I's bin cooking now this twelve years, -and never has I had 'mission' to let my old man come to see me, or I to -go see him." - -The children, with eyes wide open, gathered round Aunt Polly to hear a -recital of her wrongs. "Laws-a-marcy, sights I's seen in my times, and -often it 'pears like I's lost my senses. I tells you, yous only got to -look at this ar' back to know what I's went through." Hereupon she -exposed her back and arms, which were frightfully scarred. - -"This ar' scar," and she pointed to a very deep one on her left -shoulder, "Masser gib me kase I cried when he sold my oldest son; poor -Jim, he was sent down the river, and I've never hearn from him since." -She wiped a stray tear from her old eyes. - -"Oh me! 'tis long time since my eyes hab watered, and now these tears do -feel so quare. Poor Jim is down the river, Johnny is dead, and Lucy is -sold somewhar, so I have neither chick nor child. What's I got to live -fur?" - -This brought fresh to my mind recollections of my own mother's grief, -when she was forced to give me up, and I could not restrain my tears. - -"What fur you crying, child?" she asked. "It puts me in mind ov my poor -little Luce, she used to cry this way whenever anything happened to me. -Oh, many is the time she screamed if master struck me." - -"Poor Aunt Polly," I said, as I walked up to her side, "I do pity you. I -will be kind to you; I'll be your daughter." - -She looked up with a wild stare, and with a deep earnestness seized hold -of my out-stretched hand; then dropping it suddenly, she murmured, - -"No, no, you ain't my darter, you comes to me with saft words, but you -is jest like Lindy and all the rest of 'em; you'll go to the house and -tell tales to the white folks on me. No, I'll not trust any of you." - -Springing suddenly into the room, with his eyes flaming, came Jones, -and, cracking his whip right and left, he struck each of the listening -group. I retreated hastily to an extreme corner of the kitchen, where, -unobserved by him, I could watch the affray. - -"You devilish old wretch, Polly, what are you gabbling and snubbling -here about? Up with your old hide, and git yer supper ready. Don't you -know thar is company in the house?" and here he gave another sharp cut -of the whip, which descended upon that poor old scarred back with a -cruel force, and tore open old cicatriced wounds. The victim did not -scream, nor shrink, nor murmur; but her features resumed their wonted -hard, encrusted expression, and, rising up from her seat, she went on -with her usual work. - -"Now, cut like the wind," he added, as he flourished his whip in the -direction of the young blacks, who had been the interested auditors of -Aunt Polly's hair-breadth escapes, and quick as lightning they were off -to their respective quarters, whilst I proceeded to assist Aunt Polly in -dishing up the supper. - -"This chicken," said I, in a tone of encouragement, "is beautifully -cooked. How brown it is, and oh, what a delightful savory odor." - -"I'll be bound the white folks will find fault wid it. Nobody ever did -please Miss Jane. Her is got some of the most perkuler notions 'bout -cookin'. I knows she'll be kommin' out here, makin' a fuss 'long wid me -'bout dis same supper," and the old woman shook her head knowingly. - -I made no reply, for I feared the re-appearance of Mr. Jones, and too -often and too painfully had I felt the sting of his lash, to be guilty -of any wanton provocation of its severity. - -Silently, but with bitter thoughts curdling my life-blood, did I arrange -the steaming cookies upon the luxurious board, and then, with a -deferential air, sought the parlor, and bade them walk out to tea. - -I found Miss Jane seated near a fine rosewood piano, and standing beside -her was a gentleman, the same whom I had observed with her upon the -verandah. Miss Matilda was at the window, looking out upon the western -heaven. I spoke in a soft tone, asking them, "Please walk out to tea." -The young gentleman rose, and offered his arm to Miss Jane, which was -graciously accepted, and Miss Matilda followed. I swung the dining-room -door open with great pomp and ceremony, for I knew that anything showy -or grand, either in the furniture of a house or the deportment of a -servant, would be acceptable to Miss Jane. Fashion, or style, was the -god of her worship, and she often declared that her principal objection -to the negro, was his great want of style in thought and action. She was -not deep enough to see, that, fathoms down below the surface, in all the -crudity of ignorance, lay a stratum of this same style, so much -worshipped by herself. Does not the African, in his love of gaud, show, -and tinsel, his odd and grotesque decorations of his person, exhibit a -love of style? But she was not philosopher enough to see that this was a -symptom of the same taste, though ungarnished and semi-barbarous. - -The supper passed off very handsomely, so far as my part was concerned. -I carried the cups round on a silver salver to each one; served them -with chicken, plied them with cakes, confections, &c., and interspersed -my performance with innumerable courtesies, bows and scrapes. - -"Ah," said Miss Jane to the gentleman, "ah, Mr. Somerville, you have -visited us at the wrong season; you should be here later in the autumn, -or earlier in the summer," and she gave one of her most benign smiles. - -"Any season is pleasant here," replied Mr. Somerville, as he held the -wing of a chicken between his thumb and fore-finger. Miss Jane simpered -and looked down; and Miss Matilda arched her brows and gave a -significant side-long glance toward her sister. - -"Here, you cussed yallow gal," cried Mr. Peterkin, in a rage, "take this -split spoon away and fetch me a fork what I ken use. These darned things -is only made for grand folks," and he held the silver fork to me. -Instantly I replaced it with a steel one. - -"Now this looks something like. We only uses them ar' other ones when we -has company, so I suppose, Mr. Somerville, the girl sot the table in -this grand way bekase you is here." - -No thunder-cloud was ever darker than Miss Jane's brow. It gathered, and -deepened, and darkened like a thick-coming tempest, whilst lightnings -blazed from her eye. - -"Father," and she spoke through her clenched teeth, "what makes you -affect this horrid vulgarity? and how can you be so very -_idiosyncratic_" (this was a favorite word with her) "as to say you -never use them? Ever since I can remember, silver forks have been used -in our family; but," and she smiled as she said it, "Mr. Somerville, -father thinks it is truly a Kentucky fashion, and in keeping with the -spirit of the early settlers, to rail out against fashion and style." - -To this explanation Mr. Somerville bowed blandly. "Ah, yes, I do admire -your father's honest independence." - -"I'll jist tell you how it is, young man, my gals has bin better -edicated than their pappy, and they pertends to be mighty 'shamed of me, -bekase I has got no larnin'; but I wants to ax 'em one question, whar -did the money kum from that give 'em thar larning?" and with a -triumphant force he brought his hard fist down on the table, knocking -off with his elbow a fine cut-glass tumbler, which was shivered to -atoms. - -"Thar now," he exclaimed, "another piece of yer cussed frippery is -breaked to bits. What did you put it here fur? I wants that big tin-cup -that I drinks out of when nobody's here." - -"Father, father," said Miss Matilda, who until now had kept an austere -silence, "why will you persist in this outrageous talk? Why will you -mortify and torture us in this cruel way?" and she burst into a flood of -angry tears. - -"Oh, don't blubber about it, Tildy, I didn't mean to hurt your -feelin's." - -Pretty soon after this, the peace of the table being broken up, the -ladies and Mr. Somerville adjourned to the parlor, whilst Melinda, or -Lindy, as she was called, and I set about clearing off the table, -washing up the dishes, and gathering and counting over the forks and -spoons. - -Now, though the young ladies made great pretensions to elegance and -splendor of living, yet were they vastly economical when there was no -company present. The silver was all carefully laid away, and locked up -in the lower drawer of an old-fashioned bureau, and the family -appropriated a commoner article to their every-day use; but let a -solitary guest appear, and forthwith the napkins and silver would be -displayed, and treated by the ladies as though it was quite a usual -thing. - -"Now, Ann," said 'Lindy, "you wash the dishes, and I'll count the spoons -and forks." - -To this I readily assented, for I was anxious to get clear of such a -responsible office as counting and assorting the silver ware. - -Mr. Peterkin, or master, as we called him, sat near by, smoking his -cob-pipe in none the best humor; for the recent encounter at the -supper-table was by no means calculated to improve his temper. - -"See here, gals," he cried in a tone of thunder, "if thar be one silver -spoon or fork missin', yer hides shall pay for the loss." - -"Laws, master, I'll be 'tickler enough," replied Lindy, as she smiled, -more in terror than pleasure. - -"Wal," he said, half aloud, "whar is the use of my darters takin' on in -the way they does? Jist look at the sight o' money that has bin laid out -in that ar' tom-foolery." - -This was a sort of soliloquy spoken in a tone audible enough to be -distinct to us. - -He drew his cob-pipe from his mouth, and a huge volume of smoke curled -round his head, and filled the room with the aroma of tobacco. - -"Now," he continued, "they does not treat me wid any perliteness. They -thinks they knows a power more than I does; but if they don't cut their -cards square, I'll cut them short of a nigger or two, and make John all -the richer by it." - -Lindy cut her eye knowingly at this, and gave me rather a strong nudge -with her elbow. - -"Keep still thar, gals, and don't rattle them cups and sassers so -powerful hard." - -By this time Lindy had finished the assortment of the silver, and had -carefully stowed it away in a willow-basket, ready to be delivered to -Miss Jane, and thence consigned to the drawer, where it would remain in -_statu quo_ until the timely advent of another guest. - -"Now," she said, "I am ready to wipe the dishes, while you wash." - -Thereupon I handed her a saucer, which, in her carelessness, she let -slip from her hand, and it fell upon the floor, and there, with great -consternation, I beheld it lying, shattered to fragments. Mr. Peterkin -sprang to his feet, glad of an excuse to vent his temper upon some one. - -"Which of you cussed wretches did this?" - -"'Twas Ann, master! She let it fall afore I got my hand on it." - -Ere I had time to vindicate myself from the charge, his iron arm felled -me to the floor, and his hoof-like foot was placed upon my shrinking -chest. - -"You d--n yallow hussy, does you think I buys such expensive chany-ware -for you to break up in this ar' way? No, you 'bominable wench, I'll have -revenge out of your saffer'n hide. Here, Lindy, fetch me that cowhide." - -"Mercy, master, mercy," I cried, when he had removed his foot from my -breast, and my breath seemed to come again. "Oh, listen to me; it was -not I who broke the saucer, it was only an accident; but oh, in God's -name, have mercy on me and Lindy." - -"Yes, I'll tache you what marcy is. Here, quick, some of you darkies, -bring me a rope and light. I'm goin' to take this gal to the -whippin'-post." - -This overcame me, for, though I had often been cruelly beaten, yet had I -escaped the odium of the "post;" and now for what I had not done, and -for a thing which, at the worst, was but an accident, to bear the -disgrace and the pain of a public whipping, seemed to me beyond -endurance. I fell on my knees before him: - -"Oh, master, please pardon me; spare me this time. I have got a -half-dollar that Master Edward gave me when you bought me, I will give -you that to pay for the saucer, but please do not beat me." - -With a wild, fiendish grin, he caught me by the hair and swung me round -until I half-fainted with pain. - -"No, you wretch, I'll git my satisfaction out of yer body yit, and I'll -be bound, afore this night's work is done, yer yallow hide will be well -marked." - -A deadly, cold sensation crept over me, and a feeling as of crawling -adders seemed possessing my nerves. With all my soul pleading in my eyes -I looked at Mr. Peterkin; but one glance of his fiendish face made my -soul quail with even a newer horror. I turned my gaze from him to Jones, -but the red glare of a demon lighted up his frantic eye, and the words -of a profane bravo were on his lips. From him I turned to poor, -hardened, obdurate old Nace, but he seemed to be linked and leagued with -my torturers. - -"Oh, Lindy," I cried, as she came up with a bunch of cord in her hand, -"be kind, tell the truth, maybe master will forgive you. You are an -older servant, better known and valued in the family. Oh, let your heart -triumph. Speak the truth, and free me from the torture that awaits me. -Oh, think of me, away off here, separated from my mother, with no -friend. Oh, pity me, and do acknowledge that you broke it." - -"Well, you is crazy, you knows dat I never touched de sacer," and she -laughed heartily. - -"Come along wid you all. Now fur fun," cried Nace. - -"Hold your old jaw," said Jones, and he raised his whip. Nace cowered -like a criminal, and made some polite speech to "Massa Jones," and Mr. -Peterkin possessed himself of the rope which Lindy had brought. - -"Now hold yer hands here," he said to me. - -For one moment I hesitated. I could not summon courage to offer my -hands. It was the only resistance that I had ever dared to make. A -severe blow from the overseer's riding-whip reminded me that I was still -a slave, and dared have no will save that of my master. This blow, which -struck the back of my head, laid me half-lifeless upon the floor. Whilst -in this condition old Nace, at the command of his master, bound the rope -tightly around my crossed arms and dragged me to the place of torment. - -The motion or exertion of being pulled along over the ground, restored -me to full consciousness. With a haggard eye I looked up to the still -blue heaven, where the holy stars yet held their silent vigil; and the -serene moon moved on in her starry track, never once heeding the dire -cruelty, over which her pale beam shed its friendly light. "Oh," thought -I, "is there no mercy throned on high? Are there no spirits in earth, -air, or sky, to lend me their gracious influence? Does God look down -with kindness upon injustice like this? Or, does He, too, curse me in my -sorrow, and in His wrath turn away His glorious face from my -supplication, and say 'a servant of servants shalt thou be?'" These -wild, rebellious thoughts only crossed my mind; they did not linger -there. No, like the breath-stain upon the polished surface of the -mirror, they only soiled for a moment the shining faith which in my soul -reflected the perfect goodness of that God who never forgets the -humblest of His children, and who makes no distinction of color or of -race. The consoling promise, "He chasteneth whom He loveth," flashed -through my brain with its blessed assurance, and reconciled me to a -heroic endurance. Far away I strained my gaze to the starry heaven, and -I could almost fancy the sky breaking asunder and disclosing the -wondrous splendors which were beheld by the rapt Apostle on the isle of -Patmos! Oh, transfiguring power of faith! Thou hast a wand more potent -than that of fancy, and a vision brighter than the dreams of -enchantment! What was it that reconciled me to the horrible tortures -which were awaiting me? Surely, 'twas faith alone that sustained me. The -present scene faded away from my vision, and, in fancy, I stood in the -lonely garden of Gethsemane. I saw the darkness and gloom that -overshadowed the earth, when, deserted by His disciples, our blessed -Lord prayed alone. I heard the sighs and groans that burst from his -tortured breast. I saw the bloody sweat, as prostrate on the earth he -lay in the tribulation of mortal agony. I saw the inhuman captors, -headed by one of His chosen twelve, come to seize his sacred person. I -saw his face uplifted to the mournful heavens, as He prayed to His -Father to remove the cup of sorrow. I saw Him bound and led away to -death, without a friend to solace Him. Through the various stages of His -awful passion, even to the Mount of Crucifixion, to the bloody and -sacred Calvary, I followed my Master. I saw Him nailed to the cross, -spit upon, vilified and abused, with the thorny crown pressed upon His -brow. I heard the rabble shout; then I saw the solemn mystery of Nature, -that did attestation to the awful fact that a fiendish work had been -done and the prophecy fulfilled. The vail of the great temple was rent, -the sun overcast, and the moon turned to blood; and in my ecstasy of -passion, I could have shouted, Great is Jesus of Nazareth!! Then I -beheld Him triumphing over the powers of darkness and death, when, robed -in the white garments of the grave, He broke through the rocky -sepulchre, and stood before the affrighted guards. His work was done, -the propitiation had been made, and He went to His Father. This same -Jesus, whom the civilized world now worship as their Lord, was once -lowly, outcast, and despised; born of the most hated people of the -world, belonging to a race despised alike by Jew and Gentile; laid in -the manger of a stable at Bethlehem, with no earthly possessions, having -not whereon to lay His weary head; buffetted, spit upon; condemned by -the high priests and the doctors of law; branded as an impostor, and put -to an ignominious death, with every demonstration of public contempt; -crucified between two thieves; this Jesus is worshipped now by those who -wear purple and fine linen. The class which once scorned Him, now offer -at His shrine frankincense and myrrh; but, in their adoration of the -despised Nazarene, they never remember that He has declared, not once, -but many times, that the poor and the lowly are His people. "Forasmuch -as you did it unto one of these you did it unto me." Then let the -African trust and hope on--let him still weep and pray in Gethsemane, -for a cloud hangs round about him, and when he prays for the removal of -this cup of bondage, let him remember to ask, as his blessed Master did, -"Thy will, oh Father, and not our own, be done;" still trust in Him who -calmed the raging tempest: trust in Jesus of Nazareth! Look beyond the -cross, to Christ. - -These thoughts had power to cheer; and, fortified by faith and religion, -the trial seemed to me easy to bear. One prayer I murmured, and my soul -said to my body, "pass under the rod;" and the cup which my Father has -given me to drink must be drained, even to the dregs. - -In this state of mind, with a moveless eye I looked upon the -whipping-post, which loomed up before me like an ogre. - -This was a quadri-lateral post, about eight feet in height, having iron -clasps on two opposing sides, in which the wrists and ankles were -tightly secured. - -"Now, Lindy," cried Jones, "jerk off that gal's rigging, I am anxious to -put some marks on her yellow skin." - -I knew that resistance was vain; so I submitted to have my clothes torn -from my body; for modesty, so much commended in a white woman, is in a -negro pronounced affectation. - -Jones drew down a huge cow-hide, which he dipped in a barrel of brine -that stood near the post. - -"I guess this will sting," he said, as he flourished the whip toward me. - -"Leave that thin slip on me, Lindy," I ventured to ask; for I dreaded -the exposure of my person even more than the whipping. - -"None of your cussed impedence; strip off naked. What is a nigger's hide -more than a hog's?" cried Jones. Lindy and Nace tore the last article of -clothing from my back. I felt my soul shiver and shudder at this; but -what could I do? I _could pray_--thank God, I could pray! - -I then submitted to have Nace clasp the iron cuffs around my hands and -ankles, and there I stood, a revolting spectacle. With what misery I -listened to obscene and ribald jests from my master and his overseer! - -"Now, Jones," said Mr. Peterkin, "I want to give that gal the first -lick, which will lay the flesh open to the bone." - -"Well, Mr. Peterkin, here is the whip; now you can lay on." - -"No, confound your whip; I wants that cow-hide, and here, let me dip it -well into the brine. I want to give her a real good warmin'; one that -she'll 'member for a long time." - -During this time I had remained motionless. My heart was lifted to God -in silent prayer. Oh, shall I, can I, ever forget that scene? There, in -the saintly stillness of the summer night, where the deep, o'ershadowing -heavens preached a sermon of peace, there I was loaded with contumely, -bound hand and foot in irons, with jeering faces around, vulgar eyes -glaring on my uncovered body, and two inhuman men about to lash me to -the bone. - -The first lick from Mr. Peterkin laid my back open. I writhed, I -wrestled; but blow after blow descended, each harder than the preceding -one. I shrieked, I screamed, I pleaded, I prayed, but there was no mercy -shown me. Mr. Peterkin having fully gratified and quenched his spleen, -turned to Mr. Jones, and said, "Now is yer turn; you can beat her as -much as you please, only jist leave a bit o' life in her, is all I -cares for." - -"Yes; I'll not spile her for the market; but I does want to take a -little of the d----d pride out of her." - -"Now, boys"--for by this time all the slaves on the place, save Aunt -Polly, had assembled round the post--"you will see what a true stroke I -ken make; but darn my buttons if I doesn't think Mr. Peterkin has drawn -all the blood." - -So saying, Jones drew back the cow-hide at arm's length, and, making a -few evolutions with his body, took what he called "sure aim." I closed -my eyes in terror. More from the terrible pain, than from the frantic -shoutings of the crowd, I knew that Mr. Jones had given a lick that he -called "true blue." The exultation of the negroes in Master Jones' -triumph was scarcely audible to my ears; for a cold, clammy sensation -was stealing over my frame; my breath was growing feebler and feebler, -and a soft melody, as of lulling summer fountains, was gently sounding -in my ears; and, as if gliding away on a moonbeam, I passed from all -consciousness of pain. A sweet oblivion, like that sleep which announces -to the wearied, fever-sick patient, that his hour of rest has come, fell -upon me! It was not a dreamful sensibility, filled with the chaos of -fragmentary visions, but a rest where the mind, nay, the very soul, -seemed to sleep with the body. - -How long this stupor lasted I am unable to say; but when I awoke, I was -lying on a rough bed, a face dark, haggard, scarred and worn, was -bending over me. Disfigured as was that visage, it was pleasant to me, -for it was human. I opened my eyes, then closed them languidly, -re-opened them, then closed them again. - -"Now, chile, I thinks you is a leetle better," said the dark-faced -woman, whom I recognized as Aunt Polly; but I was too weak, too -wandering in mind, to talk, and I closed my eyes and slept again. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -RESTORED CONSCIOUSNESS--AUNT POLLY'S ACCOUNT OF MY MIRACULOUS RETURN TO -LIFE--THE MASTER'S AFFRAY WITH THE OVERSEER. - - -When I awoke (for I was afterwards told by my good nurse that I had -slept four days), I was lying on the same rude bed; but a cool, clear -sensation overspread my system. I had full and active possession of my -mental faculties. I rose and sat upright in the bed, and looked around -me. It was the deep hour of night. A little iron lamp was upon the -hearth, and, for want of a supply of oil, the wick was burning low, -flinging a red glare through the dismal room. Upon a broken stool sat -Aunt Polly, her head resting upon her breast, in what nurses call a -"stolen nap." Amy and three other children were sleeping in a bed -opposite me. - -In a few moments I was able to recall the whole of the scenes through -which I had passed, while consciousness remained; and I raised my eyes -to God in gratitude for my partial deliverance from pain and suffering. -Very softly I stole from my bed, and, wrapping an old coverlet round my -shoulders, opened the door, and looked out upon the clear, star-light -night. Of the vague thoughts that passed through my mind I will not now -speak, though they were far from pleasant or consolatory. - -The fresh night air, which began to have a touch of the frost of the -advancing autumn, blew cheerily in the room, and it fell with an -awakening power upon the brow of Aunt Polly. - -"Law, chile, is dat you stannin' in de dor? What for you git up out en -yer warm bed, and go stand in the night-ar?" - -"Because I feel so well, and this pleasant air seems to brace my frame, -and encourage my mind." - -"But sure you had better take to your bed again; you hab had a mighty -bad time ob it." - -"How long have I been sick? It all seems to me like a horrible dream, -from which I have been suddenly and pleasantly aroused." - -As I said this, Aunt Polly drew me from the door, and closing it, she -bade me go to bed. - -"No, indeed, I cannot sleep. I feel wide awake, and if I only had some -one to talk to me, I could sit up all night." - -"Well, bress your heart, I'll talk wid you smack, till de rise ob day," -she said, in such a kind, good-natured tone, that I was surprised, for I -had regarded her only as an ill-natured, miserable beldame. - -Seating myself on a ricketty stool beside her, I prepared for a long -conversation. - -"Tell me what has happened since I have been sick?" I said. "Where are -Miss Jane and Matilda? and where is the young gentleman who supped with -them on that awful night?" - -"Bress you, honey, but 'twas an awful night. Dis ole nigger will neber -forget it long as she libs;" and she bent her head upon her poor old -worn hands, and by the pale, blue flicker of the lamp, I could discern -the rapidly-falling tears. - -"What," thought I, "and this hardened, wretched old woman can weep for -me! Her heart is not all ossified if she can forget her own bitter -troubles, and weep for mine." - -This knowledge was painful, and yet joyful to me. Who of us can refuse -sympathy? Who does not want it, no matter at what costly price? Does it -not seem like dividing the burden, when we know that there is another -who will weep for us? I threw my arms round Aunt Polly. I tightly -strained that decayed and revolting form to my breast, and I inly prayed -that some young heart might thus rapturously go forth, in blessings to -my mother. This evidence of affection did not surprise Aunt Polly, nor -did she return my embrace; but a deep, hollow sigh, burst from her full -heart, and I knew that memory was far away--that, in fancy, she was -with her children, her loved and lost. - -"Come, now," said I, soothingly, "tell me all about it. How did I -suffer? What was done for me? Where is master?" and I shuddered, as I -mentioned the name of my horrible persecutor. - -"Oh, chile, when Masser Jones was done a-beatin' ob yer, dey all ob 'em -tought you was dead; den Masser got orful skeard. He cussed and swore, -and shook his fist in de oberseer's face, and sed he had kilt you, and -dat he was gwine to law wid him 'bout de 'struction ob his property. Den -Masser Jones he swar a mighty heap, and tell Masser he dar' him to go to -law 'bout it. Den Miss Jane and Tilda kum out, and commenced cryin', and -fell to 'busin' Masser Jones, kase Miss Jane say she want to go to de -big town, and take you long wid her fur lady's maid. Den Mr. Jones fell -to busen ob her, and den Masser and him clinched, and fought, and fought -like two big black dogs. Den Masser Jones sticked his great big knife in -Masser's side, and Masser fell down, and den we all tought he was clar -gone. Den away Maser Jones did run, and nobody dared take arter him, for -he had a loaded pistol and a big knife. Den we all on us, de men and -wimmin folks both, grabbed up Masser, and lifted him in de house, and -put him on de bed. Den Jake, he started off fur de doctor, while Miss -Jane and Tilda 'gan to fix Masser's cut side. Law, bress your heart, but -thar he laid wid his big form stretched out just as helpless as a baby. -His face was as white as a ghost, and his eyes shot right tight up. Law -bress you, but I tought his time hab kum den. Well, Lindy and de oder -wimmin was a helpin' ob Miss Jane and Tildy, so I jist tought I would go -and look arter yer body. Thar you was, still tied to de post, all -kivered with blood. I was mighty feared ob you; but den I tought you had -been so perlite, and speaked so kind to me, dat I would take kare ob yer -body; so I tuck you down, and went wid you to de horse-trough, and dere -I poured some cold water ober yer, so as to wash away de clotted blood. -Den de cold water sorter 'vived you, and yer cried out 'oh, me!' Wal -dat did skeer me, and I let you drap right down in de trough, and de way -dis nigger did run, fur de life ob her. Well, as I git back I met Jake, -who had kum back wid de doctor, and I cried out, 'Oh Jake, de spirit ob -Ann done speaked to me!' 'Now, Polly,' says he, 'do hush your nonsense, -you does know dat Ann is done cold dead.' 'Well Jake,' says I, 'I tuck -her down frum de post, and tuck her to the trough to wash her, and -tought I'd fix de body out right nice, in de best close dat she had. -Well, jist as I got de water on it, somping hollowed out, 'oh me!' so -mournful like, dat it 'peared to me it kum out ob de ground. - -"'What fur den you do?' says Jake. 'Why, to be sure, I lef it right dar, -and run as fas' as my feet would carry me.' - -"By dis time de house was full ob de neighbors; all hab collected in de -house, fur de news dat Masser was kilt jist fly trough de neighborhood. -Miss Bradly hearn in de house 'bout de 'raculous 'pearance ob de sperit, -and she kum up to me, and say 'Polly, whar is de body of Ann?' 'Laws, -Miss Bradly, it is out in de trough, I won't go agin nigh to it.' - -"'Well,' say she, 'where is Jake? let him kum along wid me.' - -"'What, you ain't gwine nigh it?' I asked. - -"'Yes I is gwine right up to it,' she say, 'kase I knows thar is life in -it.' Well this sorter holpd me up, so I said, 'well I'll go too.' So we -tuck Jake, and Miss Bradly walked long wid us to de berry spot, and dar -you wus a settin up in de water ob de trough where I seed you; it -skeered me worse den eber, so I fell right down on de ground, and began -to pray to de Lord to hab marcy on us all; but Miss Bradly (she is a -quare woman) walked right up to you, and spoke to you. - -"'Laws,' says Jake, 'jist hear dat ar' woman talking wid a sperit,' and -down he fell, and went to callin on de Angel Gabriel to kum and holp -him. - -"Fust ting I knowed, Miss Bradly was a rollin' her shawl round yer body, -and axed you to walk out ob de trough. - -"Well, tinks I, dese am quare times when a stone-dead nigger gits up -and walks agin like a live one. Well, widout any help from us, Miss -Bradly led you 'long into dis cabin. I followed arter. After while she -kind o' 'suaded me you was a livin'. Den I helped her wash you, and got -her some goose-greese, and we rubbed you all ober, from your head to yer -feet, and den you kind ob fainted away, and I began to run off; but Miss -Bradly say you only swoon, and she tuck a little glass vial out ob her -pocket, and held it to yer nose, and dis bring you to agin. After while -you fell off to sleep, and Miss Bradly bringed de Doctor out ob de house -to look at you. Well, he feel ob yer wrist, put his ear down to yer -breast, den say, 'may be wid care she will git well, but she hab been -powerful bad treated.' He shuck his head, and I knowed what he was -tinkin' 'bout, but I neber say one word. Den Miss Bradly wiped her eyes, -and de Doctor fetch anoder sigh, and say, dis is very 'stressing,' and -Miss Bradly say somepin agin 'slavery,' and de Doctor open ob his eyes -right wide and say, ''tis worth your head, Miss, for to say dat in dis -here country.' Den she kind of 'splained it to him, and tings just -seemed square 'twixt 'em, for she was monstrous skeered like, and turned -white as a sheet. Den I hearn de Doctor say sompin' 'bout ridin' on a -rail, and tar and feaders, and abolutionist. So arter dat, Miss Bradly -went into de house, arter she had bin a tellin' ob me to nurse you well; -dat you was way off hare from yer mammy, so eber sence den you has bin a -lying right dar on dat bed, and I hab nursed you as if you war my own -child." - -I threw my arms around her again, and imprinted kisses upon her rugged -brow; for, though her skin was sooty and her face worn with care, I -believed that somewhere in a silent corner of her tried heart there was -a ray of warm, loving, human feeling. - -"Oh, child," she begun, "can you wid yer pretty yallow face kiss an old -pitch-black nigger like me?" - -"Why, yes, Aunt Polly, and love you too; if your face is dark I am sure -your heart is fair." - -"Well, I doesn't know 'bout dat, chile; once 'twas far, but I tink all -de white man done made it black as my face." - -"Oh no, I can't believe that, Aunt Polly," I replied. - -"Wal, I always hab said dat if dey would cut my finger and cut a white -woman's, dey would find de blood ob de very same color," and the old -woman laughed exultingly. - -"Yes, but, Aunt Polly, if you were to go before a magistrate with a case -to be decided, he would give it against you, no matter how just were -your claims." - -"To be sartin, de white folks allers gwine to do every ting in favor ob -dar own color." - -"But, Aunt Polly," interposed I, "there is a God above, who disregards -color." - -"Sure dare is, and dar we will all ob us git our dues, and den de white -folks will roast in de flames ob old Nick." - -I saw, from a furtive flash of her eye, that all the malignity and -revenge of her outraged nature were becoming excited, and I endeavored -to change the conversation. - -"Is master getting well?" - -"Why, yes, chile, de debbil can't kill him. He is 'termined to live jist -as long as dare is a nigger to torment. All de time he was crazy wid de -fever, he was fightin' wid de niggers--'pears like he don't dream 'bout -nothin' else." - -"Does he sit up now?" I asked this question with trepidation, for I -really dreaded to see him. - -"No, he can't set up none. De doctor say he lost a power o' blood, and -he won't let him eat meat or anyting strong, and I tells you, honey, -Masser does swar a heap. He wants to smoke his pipe, and to hab his -reglar grog, and dey won't gib it to him. It do take Jim and Jake bofe -to hold him in de bed, when his tantarums comes on. He fights dem, he -calls for de oberseer, he orders dat ebery nigger on de place shall be -tuck to de post. I tells you now, I makes haste to git out ob his way. -He struck Jake a lick dat kum mighty nigh puttin' out his eye. It's all -bunged up now." - -"Where did Mr. Somerville go?" I asked. - -"Oh, de young gemman dat dey say is a courtin' Miss Jane, he hab gone -back to de big town what he kum from; but Lindy say Miss Jane got a -great long letter from him, and Lindy say she tink Miss Jane gwine to -marry him." - -"Well, I belong to Miss Jane; I wonder if she will take me with her to -the town." - -"Why, yes, chile, she will, for she do believe in niggers. She wants 'em -all de time right by her side, a waitin' on her." - -This thought set me to speculating. Here, then, was the prospect of -another change in my home. The change might be auspicious; but it would -take me away from Aunt Polly, and remove me from Miss Bradly's -influence; and this I dreaded, for she had planted hopes in my breast, -which must blossom, though at a distant season, and I wished to be often -in her company, so that I might gain many important items from her. - -Aunt Polly, observing me unusually thoughtful, argued that I was sleepy, -and insisted upon my returning to bed. In order to avoid further -conversation, and preserve, unbroken, the thread of my reflections, I -obeyed her. - -Throwing myself carelessly upon the rough pallet, I wandered in fancy -until leaden-winged sleep overcame me. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -AMY'S NARRATIVE, AND HER PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE. - - -When the golden sun had begun to tinge with light the distant tree-tops, -and the young birds to chant their matin hymn, I awoke from my profound -sleep. Wearily I moved upon my pillow, for though my slumber had been -deep and sweet, yet now, upon awaking, I experienced no refreshment. - -Rising up in the bed, and supporting myself upon my elbow, I looked -round in quest of Aunt Polly; but then I remembered that she had to be -about the breakfast. Amy was sitting on the floor, endeavoring to -arrange the clothes on a little toddler, her orphan brother, over whom -she exercised a sort of maternal care. She, her two sisters, and infant -brother, were the orphans of a woman who had once belonged to a brother -of Mr. Peterkin. Their orphanage had not fallen upon them from the -ghastly fingers of death, but from the far more cruel and cold mandate -of human cupidity. A fair, even liberal price had been offered their -owner for their mother, Dilsy, and such a speculation was not to be -resigned upon the score of philanthropy. No, the man who would refuse -nine hundred dollars for a negro woman, upon the plea that she had three -young children and a helpless infant, from whom she must not be -separated, would, in Kentucky, be pronounced insane; and I can assure -you that, on this subject, the brave Kentuckians had good right to -decide, according to their code, that Elijah Peterkin was _compos -mentis_. - -"Amy," said I, as I rubbed my eyes, to dissipate the film and mists of -sleep, "is it very late? have you heard the horn blow for the hands to -come in from work?" - -"No, me hab not hearn it yet, but laws, Ann, me did tink you would -neber talk no more." - -"But you see I am talking now," and I could not resist a smile; "have -you been nursing me?" - -"No, indeed, Aunt Polly wouldn't let me come nigh yer bed, and she keep -all de time washing your body and den rubbin' it wid a feader an' -goose-greese. Oh, you did lay here so still, jist like somebody dead. -Aunt Polly, she wouldn't let one ob us speak one word, sed it would -'sturb you; but I knowed you wasn't gwine to kere, so ebery time she -went out, I jist laughed and talked as much as I want." - -"But did you not want me to get well, Amy?" - -"Why, sartin I did; but my laughin' want gwine to kill you, was it?" She -looked up with a queer, roguish smile. - -"No, but it might have increased my fever." - -"Well, if you had died, I would hab got yer close, now you knows you -promised 'em to me. So when I hearn Jake say you was dead, I run and got -yer new calico dress, and dat ribbon what Miss Jane gib you, an' put dem -in my box; den arter while Aunt Polly say you done kum back to life; so -I neber say notin' more, I jist tuck de close and put dem back in yer -box, and tink to myself, well, maybe I will git 'em some oder time." - -It amused me not a little to find that upon mere suspicion of my demise, -this little negro had levied upon my wardrobe, which was scanty indeed; -but so it is, be we ever so humble or poor, there is always some one to -regard us with a covetous eye. My little paraphernalia was, to this -half-savage child, a rich and wondrous possession. - -"Here, hold up yer foot, Ben, or you shan't hab any meat fur breakus." -This threat was addressed to her young brother, whom she nursed like a -baby, and whose tiny foot seemed to resist the restraint of a shoe. - -I looked long at them, and mused with a strange sorrow upon their -probable destiny. Bitter I knew it must be. For, where is there, beneath -the broad sweep of the majestic heavens, a single one of the dusky -tribe of Ethiopia who has not felt that existence was to him far more a -curse than a blessing? You, oh, my tawny brothers, who read these -tear-stained pages, ask your own hearts, which, perhaps, now ache almost -to bursting, ask, I say, your own vulture-torn hearts, if life is not a -hard, hard burden? Have you not oftentimes prayed to the All-Merciful to -sever the mystic tie that bound you here, to loosen your chains and set -you, soul and body, free? Have you not, from the broken chinks of your -lonely cabins at night, looked forth upon the free heavens, and murmured -at your fate? Is there, oh! slave, in your heart a single pleasant -memory? Do you not, captive-husband, recollect with choking pride how -the wife of your bosom has been cruelly lashed while you dared not say -one word in her defence? Have you not seen your children, precious -pledges of undying love, ruthlessly torn from you, bound hand and foot -and sold like dogs in the slave market, while you dared not offer a -single remonstrance? Has not every social and moral feeling been -outraged? Is it not the white man's policy to degrade your race, thereby -finding an argument to favor the perpetuation of Slavery? Is there for -us one thing to sweeten bondage? Free African! in the brave old States -of the North, where the shackles of slavery exist not, to you I call. -Noble defenders of Abolition, you whose earnest eyes may scan these -pages, I call to you with a _tearful voice_; I pray you to go on in your -glorious cause; flag not, faint not, prosecute it before heaven and -against man. Fling out your banners and march on to the defence of the -suffering ones at the South. And you, oh my heart-broken sisters, -toiling beneath a tropic sun, wearing out your lives in the service of -tyrants, to you I say, hope and pray still! Trust in God! He is mighty -and willing to save, and, in an hour that you know not of, he will roll -the stone away from the portal of your hearts. My prayers are with you -and for you. I have come up from the same tribulation, and I vow, by the -sears and wounds upon my flesh, never to forget your cause. Would that -my tears, which freely flow for you, had power to dissolve the fetters -of your wasting bondage. - -Thoughts like these, though with more vagueness and less form, passed -through my brain as I looked upon those poor little outcast children, -and I must be excused for thus making, regardless of the usual etiquette -of authors, an appeal to the hearts of my free friends. Never once do I -wish them to lose sight of the noble cause to which they have lent the -influence of their names. I am but a poor, unlearned woman, whose heart -is in her cause, and I should be untrue to the motive which induced me -to chronicle the dark passages in my woe-worn life if I did not urge and -importune the Apostles of Abolition to move forward and onward in their -march of reform. - -"Come, Amy, near to my bed, and talk a little with me." - -"I wants to git some bread fust." - -"You are always hungry," I pettishly replied. - -"No, I isn't, but den, Ann, I neber does git enuf to eat here. Now, we -use to hab more at Mas' Lijah's." - -"Was he a good master?" I asked. - -"No, he wasn't; but den mammy used to gib us nice tings to eat. She -buyed it from de store, and she let us hab plenty ob it." - -"Where is your mammy?" - -"She bin sold down de ribber to a trader," and there was a quiver in the -child's voice. - -"Did she want to go?" I inquired. - -"No, she cried a heap, and tell Masser she wouldn't mind it if he would -let her take us chilen; but Masser say no, he wouldn't. Den she axed him -please to let her hab little Ben, any how. Masser cussed, and said, -Well, she might hab Ben, as he was too little to be ob any sarvice; den -she 'peared so glad and got him all ready to take; but when de trader -kum to take her away, he say he wouldn't 'low her to take Ben, kase he -couldn't sell her fur as much, if she hab a baby wid her; den, oh den, -how poor mammy did cry and beg; but de trader tuck his cowhide and -whipped her so hard she hab to stop cryin' or beggin'. Den she kum to -me and make me promise to take good care ob Ben, to nurse him and tend -on him as long as I staid whar he was. Den she knelt down in de corner -of her cabin and prayed to God to take care ob us, all de days of our -life; den she kissed us all and squeezed us tight, and when she tuck -little Ben in her arms it 'peared like her heart would break. De water -from her eyes wet Ben's apron right ringing wet, jist like it had come -out ob a washing tub. Den de trader called to her to come along, and den -she gib dis to me, and told me dat ebery time I looked at it, I must -tink of my poor mammy dat was sold down de ribber, and 'member my -promise to her 'bout my little brudder." - -Here the child exhibited a bored five-cent piece, which she wore -suspended by a black string around her neck. - -"De chilen has tried many times to git it away frum me; but I's allers -beat 'em off; and whenever Miss Tildy wants me fur to mind her, she -says, 'Now, Amy, I'll jist take yer mammy's present from yer if yer -doesn't do what I bids yer;' den de way dis here chile does work isn't -slow, I ken tell yer," and with her characteristic gesture she run her -tongue out at the corner of her mouth in an oblique manner, and suddenly -withdrew it, as though it had passed over a scathing iron. - -"Could anything induce you to part with it?" I asked. - -She rolled her eyes up with a look of wonderment, and replied, half -ferociously, "Gracious! no--why, hasn't I bin whipped, 'bused and treed; -still I'd hold fast to this. No mortal ken take it frum me. You may kill -me in welcome," and the child shook her head with a philosophical air, -as she said, "and I don't kere much, so mammy's chilen dies along wid -me, fur I didn't see no use in our livin' eny how. I's done got my full -shere ob beatin' an' we haint no use on dis here airth--so I jist wants -fur to die." - -I looked upon her, so uncared for, so forlorn in her condition, and I -could not find it in my heart to blame her for the wish, erring and -rebellious as it must appear to the Christian. What _had_ she to live -for? To those little children, the sacred bequests of her mother, she -was no protection; for, even had she been capable of extending to them -all the guidance and watchfulness, both of soul and body, which their -delicate and immature natures required, there was every probability, -nay, there was a certainty, that this duty would be denied her. She -could not hope, at best, to live with them more than a few years. They -were but cattle, chattels, property, subject to the will and pleasure of -their owners. There would speedily come a time when a division must take -place in the estate, and that division would necessarily cause a -separation and rupture of family ties. What wonder then, that this poor -ignorant child sighed for the calm, unfearing, unbroken rest of the -grave? She dreamed not of a "more beyond;" she thought her soul mortal, -even as her body; and had she been told that there was for her a world, -even a blessed one, to succeed death, she would have shuddered and -feared to cross the threshold of the grave. She thought annihilation the -greatest, the only blessing awaiting her. The idea of another life would -have brought with it visions of a new master and protracted slavery. -Freedom and equality of souls, irrespective of _color_, was too -transcendental and chimerical an idea to take root in her practical -brain. Many times had she heard her master declare that "niggers were -jist like dogs, laid down and died, and nothin' come of them -afterwards." His philosophy could have proposed nothing more delightful -to her ease-coveting mind. - -Some weeks afterwards, when I was trying to teach her the doctrine of -the immortality of the soul, she broke forth in an idiotic laugh, as she -said, "oh, no, dat gold city what dey sings 'bout in hymns, will do fur -de white folks; but nothin' eber comes of niggers; dey jist dies and -rots." - -"Who do you think made negroes?" I inquired. - -Looking up with a meaning grin, she said, "White folks made 'em fur der -own use, I 'spect." - -"Why do you think that?" - -"Kase white folks ken kill 'em when dey pleases; so I 'spose dey make -'em." - -This was a species of reasoning which, for a moment, confounded my -logic. Seeing that I lacked a ready reply, she went on: - -"Yes, you see, Ann, we hab no use wid a soul. De white folks won't hab -any work to hab done up dere, and so dey won't hab no use fur niggers." - -"Doesn't this make you miserable?" - -"What?" she asked, with amazement. - -"This thought of dying, and rotting like the vilest worm." - -"No, indeed, it makes me glad; fur den I'll not hab anybody to beat me; -knock, kick, and cuff me 'bout, like dey does now." - -"Poor child, happier far," I thought, "in your ignorance, than I, with -all the weight of fearful responsibility that my little knowledge -entails upon me. On you, God will look with a more pitying eye than upon -me, to whom he has delegated the stewardship of two talents." - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -TALK AT THE FARM-HOUSE--THREATS--THE NEW BEAU--LINDY. - - -Several days had elapsed since the morning conversation with Amy; -meanwhile matters were jogging along in their usually dull way. Of late, -since the flight of Mr. Jones, and the illness of Mr. Peterkin, there -had been considerably less fighting; but the ladies made innumerable -threats of what they would do, when their father should be well enough -to allow a suspension of nursing duties. - -My wounds had rapidly healed, and I had resumed my former position in -the discharge of household duties. Lindy, my old assistant, still held -her place. I always had an aversion to her. There was that about her -entire physique which made her odious to me. A certain laxity of the -muscles and joints of her frame, which produced a floundering, shuffling -sort of gait that was peculiarly disagreeable, a narrow, soulless -countenance, an oblique leer of the eye where an ambushed fiend seemed -to lurk, full, voluptuous lips, lengthy chin, and expanded nostril, -combined to prove her very low in the scale of animals. She had a kind -of dare-devil courage, which seemed to brave a great deal, and yet she -shrank from everything like punishment. There was a union of degrading -passions in her character. I doubt if the lowest realm of hades -contained a baser spirit. This girl, I felt assured from the first time -I beheld her, was destined to be my evil genius. I felt that the baleful -comet that presided over her birth, would in his reckless and maddening -course, rush too near the little star which, through cloud and shadow, -beamed on my destiny. - -She was not without a certain kind of sprightliness that passed for -intelligence; and she could by her adroitness of manoeuvre amble out of -any difficulty. With a good education she would have made an excellent -female pettifogger. She had all of the quickness and diablerie usually -summed up in that most expressive American word, "_smartness_." - -I was a good deal vexed and grieved to find myself again a partner of -hers in the discharge of my duties. It seemed to open my wounds afresh; -for I remembered that her falsehood had gained me the severe castigation -that had almost deprived me of life; and her laugh and jibe had rendered -my suffering at the accursed post even more humiliating. Yet I knew -better than to offer a demurrer to any arrangement that my mistress had -made. - -One day as I was preparing to set the table for the noon meal, Lindy -came to me and whispered, in an under-tone, "You finish the table, I am -going out; and if Miss Jane or Tildy axes where I is, say dat I went to -de kitchen to wash a dish." - -"Very well," I replied in my usual laconic style, and went on about my -work. It was well for her that she had observed this precaution; for in -a few moments Miss Tildy came in, and her first question was for Lindy. -I answered as I had been desired to do. The reply appeared to satisfy -her, and with the injunction (one she never failed to give), that I -should do my work well and briskly, she left the room. - -After I had arranged the table to my satisfaction, I went to the kitchen -to assist Aunt Polly in dishing up dinner. - -When I reached the kitchen I found Aunt Polly in a great quandary. The -fire was not brisk enough to brown her bread, and she dared not send it -to the table without its being as beautifully brown as a student's -meditations. - -"Oh, child," she began, "do run somewhar' and git me a scrap or so of -dry wood, so as to raise a smart little blaze to brown dis bread." - -"Indeed I will," and off I bounded in quest of the combustible material. -Of late Aunt Polly and I had become as devoted as mother and child. 'Tis -true there was a deep yearning in my heart, a thirst for intercommunion -of soul, which this untutored negress could not supply. She did not -answer, with a thrilling response, to the deep cry which my spirit sent -out; yet she was kind, and even affectionate, to me. Usually harsh to -others, with me she was gentle as a lamb. With a thousand little -motherly acts she won my heart, and I strove, by assiduous kindness, to -make her forget that I was not her daughter. I started off with great -alacrity in search of the dry wood, and remembered that on the day -previous I had seen some barrel staves lying near an out-house, and -these I knew would quickly ignite. When rapidly turning the corner of -the stable, I was surprised to see Lindy standing in close and -apparently free conversation with a strange-looking white man. The sound -of my rapid footsteps startled them; and upon seeing me, the man walked -off hastily. With a fluttering, excited manner, Lindy came up and said: - -"Don't say nothing 'bout haven' seed me wid dat ar' gemman; fur he used -to be my mars'er, and a good one he was too." - -I promised that I would say nothing about the matter, but first I -inquired what was the nature of the private interview. - -"Oh, he jist wanted fur to see me, and know how I was gitten' long." - -I said no more; but I was not satisfied with her explanation. I resolved -to watch her narrowly, and ferret out, if possible, this seeming -mystery. Upon my return to the kitchen, with my bundle of dry sticks, I -related what I had seen to Aunt Polly. - -"Dat gal is arter sompen not very good, you mark my words fur it." - -"Oh, maybe not, Aunt Polly," I answered, though with a conviction that I -was speaking at variance with the strong probabilities of the case. - -I hurried in the viands and meats for the table, and was not surprised -to find Lindy unusually obliging, for I understood the object. There was -an abashed air and manner which argued guilt, or at least, that she was -the mistress of a secret, for the entire possession of which she -trembled. Sundry little acts of unaccustomed kindness she offered me, -but I quietly declined them. I did not desire that she should insult my -honor by the offer of a tacit bribe. - -In the evening, when I was arranging Miss Jane's hair (this was my -especial duty), she surprised me by asking, in a careless and incautious -manner: - -"Ann, what is the matter with Lindy? she has such an excited manner." - -"I really don't know, Miss Jane; I have not observed anything very -unusual in her." - -"Well, I have, and I shall speak to her about it. Oh, there! slow, girl, -slow; you pulled my hair. Don't do it again. You niggers have become so -unruly since pa's sickness, that if we don't soon get another overseer, -there will be no living for you. There is Lindy in the sulks, simply -because she wants a whipping, and old Polly hasn't given us a meal fit -to eat." - -"Have I done anything, Miss Jane?" I asked with a misgiving. - -"No, nothing in particular, except showing a general and continued -sullenness. Now, I do despise to see a nigger always sour-looking; and I -can tell you, Ann, you must change your ways, or it will be worse for -you." - -"I try to be cheerful, Miss Jane, but--" here I wisely checked myself. - -"_Try to be_," she echoed with a satirical tone. "What do you mean by -_trying_? You don't dare to say you are not happy _here_?" - -Finding that I made no reply, she said, "If you don't cut your cards -squarely, you will find yourself down the river before long, and there -you are only half-clad and half-fed, and flogged every day." Still I -made no reply. I knew that if I spoke truthfully, and as my heart -prompted, it would only redound to my misery. What right had I to speak -of my mother. She was no more than an animal, and as destitute of the -refinement of common human feeling--so I forbore to allude to her, or my -great desire to see her. I dared not speak of the horrible manner in -which my body had been cut and slashed, the half-lifeless condition in -which I had been taken from the accursed post, and all for a fault which -was not mine. These were things which, as they were done by my master's -commands, were nothing more than right; so with an effort, I controlled -my emotion, and checked the big tears which I felt were rushing up to my -eyes. - -When I had put the finishing stroke to Miss Jane's hair, and whilst she -was surveying herself in a large French mirror, Miss Bradly came in. -Tossing her bonnet off, she kissed Miss Jane very affectionately, nodded -to me, and asked, - -"Where is Tildy?" - -"I don't know, somewhere about the house, I suppose," replied Miss Jane. - -"Well, I have a new beau for her; now it will be a fine chance for -Tildy. I would have recommended you; but, knowing of your previous -engagement, I thought it best to refer him to the fair Matilda." - -Miss Jane laughed, and answered, that "though she was engaged, she would -have no objections to trying her charms upon another beau." - -There was a strange expression upon Miss Bradly's face, and a flurried, -excited manner, very different from her usually quiet demeanor. - -Miss Jane went about the room collecting, here and there, a stray pocket -handkerchief, under-sleeve, or chemisette; and, dashing them toward me, -she said, - -"Put these in wash, and do, pray, Ann, try to look more cheerful. Now, -Miss Emily," she added, addressing Miss Bradly, "we have the worst -servants in the world. There is Lindy, I believe the d--l is in her. She -is so strange in her actions. I have to repeat a thing three or four -times before she will understand me; and, as for Ann, she looks so -sullen that it gives one the horrors to see her. I've a notion to bring -Amy into the house. In the kitchen she is of no earthly service, and -doesn't earn her salt. I think I'll persuade pa to sell some of these -worthless niggers. They are no profit, and a terrible expense." -Thereupon she was interrupted by the entrance of Miss Tildy, whose face -was unusually excited. She did not perceive Miss Bradly, and so broke -forth in a torrent of invectives against "niggers." - -"I hate them. I wish this place were rid of every black face. Now we -can't find that wretched Lindy anywhere, high nor low. Let me once get -hold of her, and I'll be bound she shall remember it to the day of her -death. Oh! Miss Bradly, is that you? pray excuse me for not recognizing -you sooner; but since pa's sickness, these wretched negroes have -half-taken the place, and I shouldn't be surprised if I were to forget -myself," and with a kiss she seemed to think she had atoned to Miss -Bradly for her forgetfulness. - -To all of this Miss B. made no reply, I fancied (perhaps it was only -fancy) that there was a shade of discontent upon her face; but she still -preserved her silence, and Miss Tildy waxed warmer and warmer in her -denunciation of ungrateful "niggers." - -"Now, here, ours have every wish gratified; are treated well, fed well, -clothed well, and yet we can't get work enough out of them to justify us -in retaining our present number. As soon as pa gets well I intend to -urge upon him the necessity of selling some of them. It is really too -outrageous for us to be keeping such a number of the worthless wretches; -actually eating us out of house and home. Besides, our family expenses -are rapidly increasing. Brother must be sent off to college. It will not -do to have his education neglected. I really am becoming quite ashamed -of his want of preparation for a profession. I wish him sent to Yale, -after first receiving a preparatory course in some less noted -seminary,--then he will require a handsome outfit of books, and a -wardrobe inferior to none at the institution; for, Miss Emily, I am -determined our family shall have a position in every circle." As Miss -Tildy pronounced these words, she stamped her foot in the most emphatic -way, as if to confirm and ratify her determination. - -"Yes," said Miss Jane, "I was just telling Miss Emily of our plans; and -I think we may as well bring Amy in the house. She is of no account in -the kitchen, and Lindy, Ginsy, and those brats, can be sold for a very -pretty sum if taken to the city of L----, and put upon the block, or -disposed of to some wealthy trader." - -"What children?" asked Miss Bradly. - -"Why, Amy's two sisters and brother, and Ginsy's child, and Ginsy too, -if pa will let her go." - -My heart ached well-nigh to bursting, when I heard this. Poor, poor Amy, -child-sufferer! another drop of gall added to thy draught of -wormwood--another thorn added to thy wearing crown. Oh, God! how I -shuddered for the victim. - -Miss Jane went on in her usual heartless tone. "It is expensive to keep -them; they are no account, no profit to us; and young niggers are my -'special aversion. I have, for a long time, intended separating Amy from -her two little sisters; she doesn't do anything but nurse that sickly -child, Ben, and it is scandalous. You see, Miss Emily, we want an arbor -erected in the yard, and a conservatory, and some new-style table -furniture." - -"Yes, and I want a set of jewels, and a good many additions to my -wardrobe, and Jane wishes to spend a winter in the city. She will be -forced to have a suitable outfit." - -"Yes, and I am going to have everything I want, if the farm is to be -sold," said Miss Jane, in a voice that no one dared to gainsay. - -"But come, let me tell you, Tildy, about the new beau I have for you," -said Miss Bradly. - -Instantly Miss Tildy's eyes began to glisten. The word "beau" was the -ready "sesame" to her good humor. - -"Oh, now, dear, good Miss Emily, tell me something about him. Who is he? -where from?" &c. - -Miss Bradly smiled, coaxingly and lovingly, as she answered: - -"Well, Tildy, darling, I have a friend from the North, who is travelling -for pleasure through the valley of the Mississippi; and I promised to -introduce him to some of the pretty ladies of the West; so, of course, I -feel pride in introducing my two pupils to him." - -This was a most agreeable sedative to their ill-nature; and both sisters -came close to Miss Bradly, fairly covering her with caresses, and -addressing to her words of flattery. - -As soon as my services were dispensed with I repaired to the kitchen, -where I found Aunt Polly in no very good or amiable mood. Something had -gone wrong about the arrangements for supper. The chicken was not brown -enough, or the cakes were heavy; something troubled her, and as a -necessary consequence her temper was suffering. - -"I's in an orful humor, Ann, so jist don't come nigh me." - -"Well, but, Aunt Polly, we should learn to control these humors. They -are not the dictates of a pure spirit; they are unchristian." - -"Oh, laws, chile, what hab us to do wid der Christians? We are like dem -poor headens what de preachers prays 'bout. We haint got no -'sponsibility, no more den de dogs." - -"I don't think that way, Aunt Polly; I think I am as much bound to do my -duty, and expect a reward at the hands of my Maker, as any white -person." - -"Oh, 'taint no use of talkin' dat ar' way, kase ebery body knows niggers -ain't gwine to de same place whar dar massers goes." - -I dared not confront her obstinacy with any argument; for I knew she was -unwilling to believe. Poor, apathetic creature! she was happier in -yielding up her soul to the keeping of her owner, than she would have -been in guiding it herself. This to me would have been enslavement -indeed; such as I could not have endured. He, my Creator, who gave me -this heritage of thought, and the bounty of Hope, gave me, likewise, a -strong, unbridled will, which nothing can conquer. The whip may bring my -body into subjection, but the free, free spirit soars where it lists, -and no man can check it. God is with the soul! aye, in it, animating and -encouraging it, sustaining it amid the crash, conflict, and the -elemental war of passion! The poor, weak flesh may yield; but, thanks to -God! the soul, well-girded and heaven-poised, will never shrink. - -Many and long have been the unslumbering nights when I have lain upon my -heap of straw, gazing at the pallid moon, and the sorrowful stars; -weaving mystic fancies as the wailing night-wind seemed to bring me a -message from the distant and the lost! I have felt whole vials of -heavenly unction poured upon my bruised soul; rich gifts have descended, -like the manna of old, upon my famishing spirit; and I have felt that -God was nearer to me in the night time. I have imagined that the very -atmosphere grew luminous with the presence of angelic hosts; and a -strange music, audible alone to my ears, has lulled me to the gentlest -of dreams! God be thanked for the night, the stars, and the spirit's -vision! Joy came not to me with the breaking of the morn; but peace, -undefined, enwrapped me when the mantle of darkness and the crown of -stars attested the reign of Night! - -I grieved to think that my poor friend, this old, lonely negress, had -nothing to soothe and charm her wearied heart. There was not a single -flower blooming up amid the rank weeds of her nature. Hard and rocky it -seemed; yet had I found the prophet's wand, whereby to strike the flinty -heart, and draw forth living waters! pure, genial draughts of -kindliness, sweet honey-drops, hived away in the lonely cells of her -caverned soul! I would have loved to give her a portion of that peace -which radiated with its divine light the depths of my inmost spirit. I -had come to her now for the purpose of giving her the sad intelligence -that awaited poor Amy; but I did not find her in a suitable mood. I felt -assured that her harshness would, in some way or other, jar the finer -and more sensitive harmonies of my nature. Perhaps she would say that -she did not care for the sufferings of the poor, lonely child; and that -her bereavement would be nothing more than just; yet I knew that she did -not feel thus. Deep in her secret soul there lay folded a white-winged -angel, even as the uncomely bulb envelopes the fair petals of the lily; -and I longed for the summer warmth of kindness to bid it come forth and -bloom in beauty. - -But now I turned away from her, murmuring, "'Tis not the time." She -would not open her heart, and my own must likewise be closed and silent; -but when I met poor little Amy, looking so neglected, with scarcely -apparel sufficient to cover her nudity, my heart failed me utterly. -There she held upon her hip little Ben, her only joy; every now and then -she addressed some admonitory words to him, such as "Hush, baby, love," -"you's my baby," "sissy loves it," and similar expressions of coaxing -and endearment. And this, her only comfort, was about to be wrenched -from her. The only link of love that bound her to a weary existence, was -to be severed by the harsh mandate of another. Just God! is this right? -Oh, my soul, be thou still! Look on in patience! The cloud deepens -above! The day of God's wrath is at hand! They who have coldly forbidden -our indulging the sweet humanities of life, who have destroyed every -social relation, severed kith and kin, ruptured the ties of blood, and -left us more lonely than the beasts of the forest, may tremble when the -avenger comes! - -I ventured to speak with Amy, and I employed the kindest tone; but ever -and anon little Ben would send forth such a piteous wail, that I feared -he was in physical pain. Amy, however, very earnestly assured me that -she had administered catnip tea in plentiful quantities, and had -examined his person very carefully to discover if a pin or needle had -punctured his flesh; but everything seemed perfectly right. - -I attempted to take him in my arms; but he clung so vigorously to Amy's -shoulder, that it required strength to unfasten his grasp. - -"Oh, don'tee take him; he doesn't like fur to leab me. Him usen to me," -cried Amy, as in a motherly way she caressed him. "Now, pretty little -boy donee cry any more. Ann shan't hab you;--now be a good nice boy;" -and thus she expended upon him her whole vocabulary of endearing -epithets. - -"Who could," I asked myself, "have the heart to untie this sweet -fraternal bond? Who could dry up the only fountain in this benighted -soul? Oh, I have often marvelled how the white mother, who knows, in -such perfection, the binding beauty of maternal love, can look -unsympathizingly on, and see the poor black parent torn away from her -children. I once saw a white lady, of conceded _refinement_, sitting in -the portico of her own house, with her youngest born, a babe of some -seven months, dallying on her knee, and she toying with the pretty -gold-threads of its silken hair, whilst her husband was in the kitchen, -with a whip in his hand, severely lashing a negro woman, whom he had -sold to a trader--lashing her because she refused to go _cheerfully_ and -leave her infant behind. The poor wretch, as a last resource, fled to -her Mistress, and, on her knees, begged her to have her child. "Oh, -Mistress," cried the frantic black woman, "ask Master to let me take my -baby with me." What think you was the answer of this white mother? - -"Go away, you impudent wretch, you don't deserve to have your child. It -will be better off away from you!" Aye, this was the answer which, -accompanied by a derisive sneer, she gave to the heart-stricken black -mother. Thus she felt, spoke, and acted, even whilst caressing her own -helpless infant! Who would think it injustice to "commend the -poison-chalice to her own lips"? She, this fine lady, was known to weep -violently, because an Irish woman was unable to save a sufficiency of -money from her earnings to bring her son from Ireland to America; but, -for the African mother, who was parting eternally from her helpless -babe, she had not so much as a consolatory word. Oh, ye of the proud -Caucasian race, would that your hearts were as fair and spotless as your -complexions! Truly can the Saviour say of you, "Oh, Jerusalem, -Jerusalem, I would have gathered you together as a hen gathereth her -chickens, but ye would not!" Oh, perverse generation of vipers, how long -will you abuse the Divine forbearance! - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -LINDY'S BOLDNESS--A SUSPICION--THE MASTER'S ACCOUNTABILITY--THE YOUNG -REFORMER--WORDS OF HOPE--THE CULTIVATED MULATTO--THE DAWN OF AMBITION. - - -In about an hour Lindy came in, looking very much excited, yet -attempting to conceal it beneath the mask of calmness. I affected not to -notice it, yet was it evident, from various little attentions and -manifold kind words, that she sought to divert suspicion, and avoid all -questioning as to her absence. - -"Where," she asked me, "are the young ladies? have they company?" - -"Yes," I replied, "Miss Bradly is with them, and they are expecting a -young gentleman, an acquaintance of Miss B.'s." - -"Who is he?" - -"Why, Lindy, how should I know?" - -"I thought maybe you hearn his name." - -"No, I did not, and, even if I had, it would have been so unimportant to -me that I should have forgotten it." - -She opened her eyes with a vacant stare, but it was perceptible that she -wandered in thought. - -"Now, Lindy," I began, "Miss Jane has missed you from the house, and -both she and Miss Tildy have sworn vengeance against you." - -"So have I sworn it agin' them." - -"What! what did you say, Lindy?" - -Really I was surprised at the girl's hardihood and boldness. She had -been thrown from her guard, and now, upon regaining her composure, was -alarmed. - -"Oh, I was only joking, Ann; you knows we allers jokes." - -"I never do," I said, with emphasis. - -"Yes, but den, Ann, you see you is one ob de quare uns." - -"What do you mean by quare?" I asked. - -"Oh, psha, 'taint no use ob talkin wid you, for you is good; but kum, -tell me, is dey mad wid me in de house, and did dey say dey would beat -me?" - -"Well, they threatened something of the kind." - -Her face grew ashen pale; it took that peculiar kind of pallor which the -negro's face often assumes under the influence of fear or disease, and -which is so disagreeable to look upon. Enemy of mine as she had deeply -proven herself to be, I could not be guilty of the meanness of exulting -in her trouble. - -"But," she said, in an imploring tone, "you will not repeat what I jist -said in fun." - -"Of course I will not; but don't you remember that it was your falsehood -that gained for me the only post-whipping that I ever had?" - -"Yes; but den I is berry sorry fur dat, and will not do it any more." - -This was enough for me. An acknowledgment of contrition, and a -determination to do better, are all God requires of the offender; and -shall poor, erring mortals demand more? No; my resentment was fully -satisfied. Besides, I felt that this poor creature was not altogether -blamable. None of her better feelings had been cultivated; they were -strangled in their incipiency, whilst her savage instincts were left to -run riot. Thus the bad had ripened into a full and noxious development, -whilst the noble had been crushed in the bud. Who is to be answerable -for the short-comings of such a soul? Surely he who has cut it off from -all moral and mental culture, and has said to the glimmerings of its -faint intellect, "Back, back to the depths of darkness!" Surely he will -and must take upon himself the burden of accountability. The sin is at -his door, and woe-worth the day, when the great Judge shall come to pass -sentence upon him. I have often thought that the master of slaves must, -for consistency's sake, be an infidel--or doubt man's exact -accountability to God for the deeds done in the body; for how can he -willingly assume the sins of some hundreds of souls? In the eye of human -law, the slave has no responsibility; the master assumes all for him. If -the slave is found guilty of a capital offence, punishable with death, -the master is indemnified by a paid valuation, for yielding up the -person of the slave to the demands of offended justice? If a slave earns -money by his labors at night or holidays, or if he is the successful -holder of a prize ticket in a lottery, his master can legally claim the -money, and there is no power to gainsay him? If, then, human law -recognizes a negro as irresponsible, how much more lenient and just will -be the divine statute? Thus, I hold (and I cannot think there is just -logician, theologian, or metaphysician, who will dissent), that the -owner of slaves becomes sponsor to God for the sins of his slave; and I -cannot, then, think that one who accredits the existence of a just God, -a Supreme Ruler, to whom we are all responsible for our deeds and words, -would willingly take upon himself the burden of other people's faults -and transgressions. - -Whilst I stood talking with Lindy, the sound of merry laughter reached -our ears. - -"Oh, dat is Miss Tildy, now is my time to go in, and see what dey will -say to me; maybe while dey is in a good humor, dey will not beat me." - -And, thus saying, Lindy hurried away. Sad thoughts were crowding in my -mind. Dark misgivings were stirring in my brain. Again I thought of the -blessed society, with its humanitarian hope and aim, that dwelt afar off -in the north. I longed to ask Miss Bradly more about it. I longed to -hear of those holy men, blessed prophets foretelling a millennial era -for my poor, down-trodden and despised race. I longed to ask questions -of her; but of late she had shunned me; she scarcely spoke to me; and -when she did speak, it was with indifference, and a degree of coldness -that she had never before assumed. - -With these thoughts in my mind I stole along through the yard, until I -stood almost directly under the window of the parlor. Something in the -tone of a strange voice that reached my ear, riveted my attention. It -was a low, manly tone, lute-like, yet swelling on the breeze, and -charming the soul! It refreshed my senses like a draught of cooling -water. I caught the tone, and could not move from the spot. I was -transfixed. - -"I do not see why Fred Douglas is not equal to the best man in the land. -What constitutes worth of character? What makes the man? What gives -elevation to him?" These were the words I first distinctly heard, spoken -in a deep, earnest tone, which I have never forgotten. I then heard a -silly laugh, which I readily recognized as Miss Jane's, as she answered, -"You can't pretend to say that you would be willing for a sister of -yours to marry Fred Douglas, accomplished as you consider him?" - -"I did not speak of marrying at all; and might I not be an advocate of -universal liberty, without believing in amalgamation? Yet, it is a -question whether even amalgamation should be forbidden by law. The negro -is a different race; but I do not know that they have other than human -feelings and emotions. The negroes are, with us, the direct descendants -from the great progenitor of the human family, old Adam. They may, when -fitted by education, even transcend us in the refinements and graces -which adorn civilized character. In loftiness of purpose, in mental -culture, in genius, in urbanity, in the exercise of manly virtues, such -as fortitude, courage, and philanthropy, where will you show me a man -that excels Fred Douglas? And must the mere fact of his tawny complexion -exclude him from the pale of that society which he is so eminently -fitted to grace? Might I not (if it were made a question) prefer uniting -my sister's fate with such a man, even though partially black, to seeing -her tied to a low fellow, a wine-bibber, a swearer, a villain, who -possessed not one cubit of the stature of true manhood, yet had a -complexion white as snow? Ah, Miss, it is not the skin which gives us -true value as men and women; 'tis the momentum of mind and the purity of -morals, the integrity of purpose and nobility of soul, that make our -place in the scale of being. I care not if the skin be black as Erebus -or fair and smooth as satin, so the heart and mind be right. I do not -deal in externals or care for surfaces." - -These words were as the bread of life to me. I could scarcely resist the -temptation to leave my hiding-place and look in at the open window, to -get sight of the speaker; surely, I thought, he must wear the robes of a -prophet. I could not very distinctly hear what Miss Jane said in reply. -I could catch many words, such as "nigger" and "marry" "white lady," and -other expressions used in an expostulatory voice; but the platitudes -which she employed would not have answered the demand of my higher -reason. Old perversions and misinterpretations of portions of the Bible, -such as the story of Hagar, and the curse pronounced upon Ham, were -adduced by Miss Jane and Miss Tildy in a tone of triumph. - -"Oh, I sicken over these stories," said the same winning voice. "How -long will Christians willingly resist the known truth? How long will -they bay at heaven with their cruel blasphemies? For I hold it to be -blasphemy when a body of Christians, professing to be followers of Him -who came from heaven to earth, and assumed the substance of humanity to -teach us a lesson, argue thus. Our Great Model declares that 'He came -not to be ministered unto but to minister.' He inculcated practically -the lesson of humility in the washing of the disciples' feet; yet, these -His modern disciples, the followers of to-day, preach, even from the -sacred desk, the right of men to hold their fellow-creatures in bondage -through endless generations, to sell them for gold, to beat them, to -keep them in a heathenish ignorance; and yet declare that it all has the -divine sanction. Verily, oh night of Judaism, thou wast brighter than -this our noon-day of Christianity! Black and bitter is the account, oh -Church of God, that thou art gathering to thyself! I could pray for a -tongue of inspiration, wherewith to denounce this foul crime. I could -pray for the power to show to my country the terrible stain she has -painted upon the banner of freedom. How dare we, as Americans, boast of -this as the home and temple of liberty? Where are the 'inalienable -rights' of which our Constitution talks in such trumpet-tones? Does not -our Declaration of Independence aver, that all men are born free and -equal? Now, do we not make this a practical falsehood? Let the poor -slave come up to the tribunal of justice, and ask the wise judge upon -the bench to interpret this piece of plain English to him! How would the -man of ermine blush at his own quibbles?" - -I could tell from the speaker's voice that he had risen from his seat, -and I knew, from the sound of footsteps, that he was approaching the -window. I crouched down lower and lower, in order to conceal myself from -observation, but gazed up to behold one whose noble sentiments and bold -expression of them had so entranced me. - -Very noble looked he, standing there, with the silver moonlight beaming -upon his broad, white brow, and his deep, blue eye uplifted to the -star-written skies. His features were calm and classic in their mould, -and a mystic light seemed to idealize and spiritualize his face and -form. Kneeling down upon the earth, I looked reverently to him, as the -children of old looked upon their prophets. He did not perceive me, and -even if he had, what should I have been to him--a pale-browed student, -whose thought, large and expansive, was filled with the noble, the -philanthropic, and the great. Yet, there I crouched in fear and -trembling, lest a breath should betray my secret place. But, would not -his extended pity have embraced me, even me, a poor, insignificant, -uncared-for thing in the great world--one who bore upon her face the -impress of the hated nation? Ay, I felt that he would not have condemned -me as one devoid of the noble impulse of a heroic humanity. If the -African has not heroism, pray where will you find it? Are there, in the -high endurance of the heroes of old Sparta, sufferings such as the -unchronicled life of many a slave can furnish forth? Martyrs have gone -to the stake; but amid the pomp and sounding psaltery of a choir, and -above the flame, the fagot and the scaffold, they descried the immortal -crown, and even the worldly and sensuous desire of canonization may not -have been dead with them. The patriot braves the battle, and dies amid -the thickest of the carnage, whilst the jubilant strains of music herald -him away. The soldier perishes amid the proud acclaim of his countrymen; -but the poor negro dies a martyr, unknown, unsung, and uncheered. Many -expire at the whipping-post, with the gleesome shouts of their inhuman -tormentors, as their only cheering. Yet few pity us. We are valuable -only as property. Our lives are nothing, and our souls--why they -scarcely think we have any. In reflecting upon these things, in looking -calmly back over my past life, and in reviewing the lives of many who -are familiar to me, I have felt that the Lord's forbearance must indeed -be great; and when thoughts of revenge have curdled my blood, the prayer -of my suffering Saviour: "Father forgive them, for they know not what -they do," has flashed through my mind, and I have repelled them as angry -and unchristian. Jesus drank the wormwood and the gall; and we, oh, -brethren and sisters of the banned race, must "tread the wine-press -alone." We must bear firmly upon the burning ploughshare, and pass -manfully through the ordeal, for vengeance is His and He will repay. - -But there, in the sweet moonlight, as I looked upon this young apostle -of reform, a whole troop of thoughts less bitter than these swept over -my mind. There were gentle dreamings of a home, a quiet home, in that -Northland, where, at least, we are countenanced as human beings. "Who," -I asked myself, "is this mysterious Fred Douglas?" A black man he -evidently was; but how had I heard him spoken of? As one devoted to -self-culture in its noblest form, who ornamented society by his imposing -and graceful bearing, who electrified audiences with the splendor of his -rhetoric, and lured scholars to his presence by the fame of his -acquirements; and this man, this oracle of lore, was of my race, of my -blood. What he had done, others might achieve. What a high determination -then fired my breast! Give, give me but the opportunity, and my chief -ambition will be to prove that we, though wronged and despised, are not -inferior to the proud Caucasians. I will strive to redeem from unjust -aspersion the name of my people. He, this illustrious stranger, gave the -first impetus to my ambition; from him my thoughts assumed a form, and -one visible aim now possessed my soul. - -How long I remained there listening I do not remember, for soon the -subject of conversation was changed, and I noted not the particular -words; but that mournfully musical voice had a siren-charm for my ear, -and I could not tear myself away. Whilst listening to it, sweet sleep, -like a shielding mantle, fell upon me. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -THE CONVERSATION IN WHICH FEAR AND SUSPICION ARE AROUSED--THE YOUNG -MASTER. - - -It must have been long after midnight when I awoke. I do not remember -whether I had dreamed or not, but the slumber had brought refreshment to -my body and peace to my heart. - -I was aroused by the sound of voices, in a suppressed whisper, or rather -in a tone slightly above a whisper. I thought I detected the voice of -Lindy, and, as I rose from my recumbent posture, I caught sight of a -figure flitting round the gable of the house. I followed, but there was -nothing visible. The pale moonlight slept lovingly upon the dwelling and -the roofs of the out-buildings. Whither could the figure have fled? -There was no sign of any one having been there. Slowly and sadly I -directed my steps toward Aunt Polly's cabin. I opened the door -cautiously, not wishing to disturb her; but easy and noiseless as were -my motions, they roused that faithful creature. She sprang from the bed, -exclaiming: - -"La, Ann, whar has yer bin? I has bin so oneasy 'bout yer." - -With my native honesty I explained to her that I had been beguiled by -the melody of a human voice, and had lingered long out in the autumn -moonlight. - -"Yes; but, chile, you'll be sick. Sleepin' out a doors is berry -onwholesome like." - -"Yes; but, Aunt Polly, there is an interior heat which no autumnal frost -has power to chill." - -"Yes, chile, you does talk so pretty, like dem ar' great white -scholards. Many times I has wondered how a poor darkie could larn so -much. Now it 'pears to me as if you knowed much as any ob 'em. I don't -tink Miss Bradly hersef talks any better dan you does." - -"Oh, Aunt Polly, your praise is sweet to me; but then, you must remember -not to do me more than justice. I am a poor, illiterate mulatto girl, -who has indeed improved the modicum of time allowed her for -self-culture; yet, when I hear such ladies as Miss Bradly talk, I feel -how far inferior I am to the queens of the white tribe. Often I ask -myself why is this? Is it because my face is colored? But then there is -a voice, deep down in my soul, that rejects such a conclusion as -slanderous. Oh, give me but opportunity, and I will strive to equal them -in learning." - -"I don't see no use in yer wanting to larn, when you is nothing but a -poor slave. But I does think the gift of fine speech mighty valable." - -And here is another thing upon which I would generalize. Does it not -argue the possession of native mind--the immense value the African -places upon words--the high-flown and broad-sounding words that he -usually employs? The ludicrous attempts which the most untutored make at -grandiloquence, should not so much provoke mirth as admiration in the -more reflective of the white race. Through what barriers and obstacles -do not their minds struggle to force a way up to the light. I have often -been astonished at the quickness with which they seized upon -expressions, and the accuracy with which they would apply them. Every -crude attempt which they make toward self-culture is laughed at and -scorned by the master, or treated as the most puerile folly. No -encouragement is given them. If, by almost superhuman effort, they gain -knowledge, why they may; but, unaided and alone, they must work, as I -have done. Moreover, I have been wonder-stricken at the facility with -which the negro-boy acquires learning. 'Tis as though the rudiments of -the school came to him by flashes of intuition. He is allowed only a -couple of hours on Sunday afternoons for recitations, and such odd -moments during the week as he can catch to prepare his lessons; for, a -servant-boy often caught with his book in hand, would be pronounced -indolent, and punished as such. Then, how unjust it is for the proud -statesman--prouder of his snowy complexion than of his stores of -knowledge--how unjust, I say, is it in him to assert, in the halls of -legislation, that the colored race are to the white far inferior in -native mind! Has he weighed the advantages and disadvantages of both? -Has he remembered that the whites, through countless generations, have -been cultivated and refined--familiarized with the arts and sciences and -elegancies of a graceful age, whilst the blacks are bound down in -ignorance; unschooled in lore; untrained in virtue; taught to look upon -themselves as degraded--the mere drudges of their masters; debarred the -privileges of social life; excluded from books, with the products of -their labor going toward the enrichment of others? When, as in some -solitary instance, a single mind dares to break through the restraints -and impediments imposed upon it, does not the fact show of what strength -the race, when properly cared for, is capable? Is not the bulb, which -enshrouds the snowy leaves of the fragrant lily, an unsightly thing? -Does the uncut diamond show any of the polish and brilliancy which the -lapidary's hand can give it? Thus is it with the African mind. Let but -the schoolmen breathe upon it, let the architect of learning fashion it, -and no diamond ever glittered with more resplendence. With a more than -prismatic light, it will refract the beams of the sun of knowledge; and -the heart, the most noble African's heart, that now slumbers in the bulb -of ignorance, will burst forth, pure and lovely as the white-petaled -lily! - -I hope, kind reader, you will pardon these digressions, as I write my -inner as well as outer life, and I should be unfaithful to my most -earnest thoughts were I not to chronicle such reflections as these. This -book is not a wild romance to beguile your tears and cheat your fancy. -No; it is the truthful autobiography of one who has suffered long, long, -the pains and trials of slavery. And she is committing her story, with -her own calm deductions, to the consideration of every thoughtful and -truth-loving mind. - -"Where," I asked Aunt Polly, "is Lindy?" - -"Oh, chile, I doesn't know whar dat gal is. Sompen is de matter wid -her. She bin flyin' round here like somebody out ob dar head. All's not -right wid her, now you mark my words fur it." - -I then related to her the circumstance which had occurred whilst I was -under the window. - -"I does jist know dat was Lindy! You didn't see who she was talkin' -wid?" - -"No; and I did not distinctly discern her form; but the voice I am -confident was her's." - -"Well, sompen is gwine to happen; kase Lindy is berry great coward, and -I well knows 'twas sompen great dat would make her be out dar at -midnight." - -"What do you think it means?" I asked. - -"Why, lean up close to me, chile, while I jist whisper it low like to -you. I believe Lindy is gwine to run off." - -I started back in terror. I felt the blood grow cold in my veins. Why, -if she made such an attempt as this, the whole country would be scoured -for her. Hot pursuers would be out in every direction. And then her -flight would render slavery ten times more severe for us. Master would -believe that we were cognizant of it, and we should be put to torture -for the purpose of wringing from us something in regard to her. Then, -apprehension of our following her example would cause the reins of -authority to be even more tightly drawn. What wonder, then, that fright -possessed our minds, as the horrid suspicion began to assume something -like reality. We regarded each other in silent horror. The dread -workings of the fiend of fear were visible in the livid hue which -overspread my companion's face and shone in the glare of her aged eye. -She clasped her skinny hands together, and cried, - -"Oh, my chile, orful times is comin' fur us. While Lindy will be off in -that 'lightful Canady, we will be here sufferin' all sorts of trouble. -Oh, de Lord, if dar be any, hab marcy on us!" - -"Oh, Aunt Polly, don't say 'if there be any;' for, so certain as we both -sit here, there is a Lord who made us, and who cares for us, too. We -are as much the children of His love as are the whites." - -"Oh Lord, chile, I kan't belieb it; fur, if he loves us, why does he -make us suffer so, an' let de white folks hab such an easy time?" - -"He has some wise purpose in it. And then in that Eternity which -succeeds the grave, He will render us blest and happy." - -The clouds of ignorance hung too thick and close around her mind; and -the poor old woman did not see the justice of such a decree. She was not -to blame if, in her woeful ignorance, she yielded to unbelief; and, with -a profanity which knowledge would have rebuked, dared to boldly question -the Divine Purpose. This sin, also, is at the white man's door. - -I did not strive further to enlighten her; for, be it confessed, I was -myself possessed by physical fear to an unwonted degree. I did not think -of courting sleep. The brief dream which had fallen upon me as I slept -beneath the parlor window, had given me sufficient refreshment. And as -for Aunt Polly, she was too much frightened to think of sleep. Talk we -did, long and earnestly. I mentioned to her what I had heard Misses -Tildy and Jane say in regard to Amy. - -"Poor thing," exclaimed Aunt Polly, "she'll not be able to stand it, for -her heart is wrapped up in dat ar' chile's. She 'pears like its mother." - -"I hope they may change their intentions," I ventured to say. - -"No; neber. When wonst Miss Jane gets de notion ob finery in her head, -she is gwine to hab it. Lord lub you, Ann, I does wish dey would sell -you and me." - -"So do I," was my fervent reply. - -"But dey will neber sell you, kase Miss Jane tinks you is good-lookin', -an' I hearn her say she would like to hab a nice-lookin' maid. You see -she tinks it is 'spectable." - -"I suppose I must bear my cross and crown of thorns with patience." - -Just then little Ben groaned in his sleep, and quickly his ever-watchful -guardian was aroused; she bent over him, soothing his perturbed sleep -with a low song. Many were the endearing epithets which she employed, -such as, "Pretty little Benny, nothing shall hurt you." "Bless your -little heart," and "here I is by yer side," "I'll keep de bars way frum -yer." - -"Poor child," burst involuntarily from my lips, as I reflected that even -that one only treasure would soon be taken from her; then in what a -hopeless eclipse would sink every ray of mind. Hearing my exclamation, -she sprung up, and eagerly asked, - -"What is de matter, Ann? Why is you and Aunt Polly sittin' up at dis -time ob of de night? It's most day; say, is anything gwine on?" - -"Nothing at all," I answered, "only Aunt Polly does not feel very well, -and I am sitting up talking with her." - -Thus appeased, she returned to her bed (if such a miserable thing could -be called a bed), and was soon sleeping soundly. - -Aunt Polly wiped her eyes as she said to me, - -"Ann, doesn't we niggers hab to bar a heap? We works hard, and gits -nothing but scanty vittels, de scraps dat de white folks leabes, and den -dese miserable old rags dat only half kevers our nakedness. I declare it -is too hard to bar." - -"Yes," I answered, "it is hard, very hard, and enough to shake the -endurance of the most determined martyr; yet, often do I repeat to -myself those divine words, 'The cup which my Father has given me will I -drink;' and then I feel calmed, strong, and heroic." - -"Oh, Ann, chile, you does talk so beautiful, an' you has got de rale -sort ob religion." - -"Oh, would that I could think so. Would that my soul were more patient. -I am not sufficiently hungered and athirst after righteousness. I pant -too much for the joys of earth. I crave worldly inheritance, whilst the -Christian's true aim should be for the mansions of the blest." - -Thus wore on the night in social conversation, and I forgot, in that -free intercourse, that there was a difference between us. The heart -takes not into consideration the distinction of mind. Love banishes all -thought of rank or inequality. By her kindness and confidence, this old -woman made me forget her ignorance. - -When the first red streak of day began to announce the slow coming of -the sun, Aunt Polly was out, and about her breakfast arrangements. - -Since the illness of Master, and the departure of Mr. Jones, things had -not gone on with the same precision as before. There was a few minutes -difference in the blowing of the horn; and, for offences like these, -Master had sworn deeply that "every nigger's hide" should be striped, as -soon as he was able to preside at the "post." During his sickness he had -not allowed one of us to enter his room; "for," as he said to the -doctor, "a cussed nigger made him feel worse, he wanted to be up and -beatin' them. They needed the cowhide every breath they drew." And, as -the sapient doctor decided that our presence had an exciting effect upon -him, we were banished from his room. "_Banished!_--what's banished but -set free!" - -Now, when I rose from my seat, and bent over the form of Amy, and -watched her as she lay wrapt in a profound sleep, with one arm -encircling little Ben, and the two sisters, Jane and Luce, lying close -to her--so dependent looked the three, as they thus huddled round their -young protectress, so loving and trustful in that deep repose, that I -felt now would be a good time for the angel Death to come--now, before -the fatal fall of the Damoclesian sword, whose hair thread was about to -snap: but no--Death comes not at our bidding; he obeys a higher -appointment. The boy moaned again in his sleep, and Amy's faithful arm -was tightened round him. Closer she drew him to her maternal heart, and -in a low, gurgling, songful voice, lulled him to a sweeter rest. I -turned away from the sight, and, sinking on my knees, offered up a -prayer to Him our common Father. I prayed that strength might be -furnished me to endure the torture which I feared would come with the -labors of the day. I asked, in an especial way, for grace to be given to -the child, Amy. God is merciful! He moves in a mysterious manner. All -power comes direct from Him; and, oh, did I not feel that this young -creature had need of grace to bear the burden that others were preparing -for her! - -My business was to clean the house and set to rights the young ladies' -apartment, and then assist Lindy in the breakfast-room; but I dared not -venture in the ladies' chamber until half-past six o'clock, as the -slightest foot-fall would arouse Miss Jane, who, I think, was too -nervous to sleep. Thus I was left some little time to myself; and these -few moments I generally devoted to reading some simple story-book or -chapters in the New Testament. Of course, the mighty mysteries of the -sacred volume were but imperfectly appreciated by me. I read the book -more as a duty than a pleasure; but this morning I could not read. -Christ's beautiful parable of the Ten Virgins, which has such a wondrous -significance even to the most childish mind, failed to impart interest, -and the blessed page fell from my hands unread. - -I then thought I would go to the kitchen and assist Aunt Polly. I found -her very much excited, and in close conversation with our master's son -John, whom the servants familiarly addressed as "young master." - -I have, as yet, forborne all direct and special mention of him, though -he was by no means a person lacking interest. Unlike his father and -sisters, he was gentle in disposition, full of loving kindness; yet he -was so taciturn, that we had seldom an indication of that generosity -that burned so intensely in the very centre of his soul, and which -subsequent events called forth. His sisters pronounced him stupid; and, -in the choice phraseology of his father, he was "poke-easy;" but the -poor, undiscriminating black people, called him gentle. To me he said -but little; yet that little was always kindly spoken, and I knew it to -be the dictate of a soft, humane spirit. - -Fair-haired, with deep blue eyes, a snowy complexion and pensive -manners, he glided by us, ever recalling to my mind the thought of -seraphs. He was now fifteen years of age, but small of stature and -slight of sinew, with a mournful expression and dejected eye, as though -the burden of a great sorrow had been early laid upon him. During all -my residence there, I had never heard him laugh loud or seen him run. He -had none of that exhilaration and buoyancy which are so captivating in -childhood. If he asked a favor of even a servant, he always expressed a -hope that he had given no trouble. When a slave was to be whipped, he -would go off and conceal himself somewhere, and never was he a spectator -of any cruelty; yet he did not remonstrate with his father or intercede -for the victims. No one had ever heard him speak against the diabolical -acts of his father; yet all felt that he condemned them, for there was a -silent expression of reproof in the earnest gaze which he sometimes gave -him. I always fancied when the boy came near me, that there was about -him a religion, which, like the wondrous virtue of the Saviour's -garment, was manifest only when you approached near enough to touch it. -It was not expressed in any open word, or made evident by any signal -act, but, like the life-sustaining air which we daily breathe, we knew -it only through its beneficent though invisible influence. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -THE FLIGHT--YOUNG MASTER'S APPREHENSIONS--HIS -CONVERSATION--AMY--EDIFYING TALK AMONG LADIES. - - -I was not a little surprised to find young master now in an apparently -earnest colloquy with Aunt Polly. A deep carnation spot burned upon his -cheeks, and his soft eye was purple in its intensity. - -"What is the matter?" I asked. - -"Lor, chile," replied Aunt Polly, "Lindy can't be found nowhar." - -"Has every place been searched?" I inquired. - -"Yes," said little John, "and she is nowhere to be found." - -"Does master know it?" - -"Not yet, and I hope it may be kept from him for some time, at least two -or three hours," he replied, with a mournful earnestness of tone. - -"Why? Is he not well enough to bear the excitement of it?" I inquired. - -The boy fixed his large and wondering eyes upon me. His gaze lingered -for a minute or two; it was enough; I read his inmost thoughts, and in -my secret soul I revered him, for I bowed to the majesty of a -heaven-born soul. Such spirits are indeed few. God lends them to earth -for but a short time; and we should entertain them well, for, though -they come in forms unrecognized, yet must we, despite the guise of -humanity, do reverence to the shrined seraph. This boy now became to me -an object of more intense interest. I felt assured, by the power of that -magnetic glance, that he was not unacquainted with the facts of Lindy's -flight. - -"How far is it from here to the river?" he said, as if speaking with -himself, "nine miles--let me see--the Ohio once gained, and crossed, -they are comparatively safe." - -He started suddenly, as if he had been betrayed or beguiled of his -secret, and starting up quickly, walked away. I followed him to the -door, and watched his delicate form and golden head, until he -disappeared in a curve of the path which led to the spring. That was a -favorite walk with him. Early in the morning (for he rose before the -lark) and late in the twilight, alike in winter or summer, he pursued -his walk. Never once did I see him with a book in his hand. With his eye -upturned to the heavens or bent upon the earth, he seemed to be reading -Nature's page. He had made no great proficiency in book-knowledge; and, -indeed, as he subsequently told me, he had read nothing but the Bible. -The stories of the Old Testament he had committed to memory, and could -repeat with great accuracy. That of Joseph possessed a peculiar -fascination for him. As I closed the kitchen door and rejoined Aunt -Polly, she remarked, - -"Jist as I sed, Lindy is off, and we is left here to hab trouble; oh, -laws, look for sights now!" - -I made no reply, but silently set about assisting her in getting -breakfast. Shortly after old Nace came in, with a strange expression -lighting up his fiendish face. - -"Has you hearn de news?" And without waiting for a reply, he went on, -"Lindy is off fur Kanaday! ha, ha, ha!" and he broke out in a wild -laugh; "I guess dat dose 'ere hounds will scent her path sure enoff; I -looks out for fun in rale arnest. I jist hopes I'll be sint fur her, and -I'll scour dis airth but what I finds her." - -And thus he rambled on, in a diabolical way, neither of us heeding him. -He seemed to take no notice of our silence, being too deeply interested -in the subject of his thoughts. - -"I'd like to know at what hour she started off. Now, she was a smart one -to git off so slick, widout lettin' anybody know ob it. She had no close -worth takin' wid her, so she ken run de faster. I wish Masser would git -wake, kase I wants to be de fust one to tell him ob it." - -Just then the two field-hands, Jake and Dan, came in. - -"Wal," cried the former, "dis am news indeed. Lindy's off fur sartin. -Now she tinks she is some, I reckon." - -"And why shouldn't she?" asked Dan, a big, burly negro, good-natured, -but very weak in mind; of a rather low and sensuous nature, yet of a -good and careless humor--the best worker upon the farm. I looked round -at him as he said this, for I thought there was reason as well as -feeling in the speech. Why shouldn't she be both proud and happy at the -success of her bold plan, if it gains her liberty and enables her to -reach that land where the law would recognize her as possessed of -rights? I could almost envy her such a lot. - -"I guess she'll find her Kanady down de river, by de time de dogs gits -arter her," said Nace, with another of his ha, ha's. - -"I wonder who Masser will send fur her? I bound, Nace, you'll be sent," -said Jake. - -"Yes, if dar is any fun, I is sure to be dar; but hurry up yer -hoe-cakes, old 'ooman, so dat de breakfust will be ober, and we can hab -an airly start." - -The latter part of this speech was addressed to Aunt Polly, who turned -round and brandished the poker toward him, saying, - -"Go 'bout yer business, Nace; kase you is got cause fur joy, it is not -wort my while to be glad. You is an old fool, dat nobody keres 'bout, no -how. I spects you would be glad to run off, too, if yer old legs was -young enuff fur to carry you." - -"Me, Poll, I wouldn't be free if I could, kase, you see, I has done -sarved my time at de 'post,' and now I is Masser's head-man, and I gits -none ob de beatings. It is fun fur me to see de oders." - -I turned my eyes upon him, and he looked so like a beast that I shut out -any feeling of resentment I might otherwise have entertained. Amy came -in, bearing little Ben in her arms, followed by her two sisters, Jinny -and Lucy. - -"La, Aunt Polly, is Lindy gone?" and her blank eyes opened to an unusual -width, as she half-asked, half-asserted this fact. - -"Yes, but what's it to you, Amy?" - -"I jist hear 'em say so, as I was comin' along." - -"Whar she be gone to?" asked Lucy. - -"None ob yer bisness," replied Aunt Polly, with her usual gruffness. - -Strange it was, that, when she was alone with me, she appeared to wax -soft and gentle in her nature; but, when with others, she was "wolfish." -It seemed as if she had two natures. Now, with Nace, she was as vile and -almost as inhuman as he; but I, who knew her heart truly, felt that she -was doing herself injustice. I did not laugh or join in their talk, but -silently worked on. - -"Now, you see, Ann is one ob de proud sort, kase she ken read, and her -face is yaller; she tinks to hold herself 'bove us; but I 'members de -time when Masser buyed her at de sale. Lor' lub yer, but she did cry -when she lef her mammy; and de way old Kais flung herself on de ground, -ha! ha! it makes me laf now." - -I turned my eyes upon him, and, I fear, there was anything but a -Christian spirit beaming therefrom. He had touched a chord in my heart -which was sacred to memory, love, and silence. My mother! Could I bear -to have her name and her sorrow thus rudely spoken of? Oh, God, what -fierce and fiendish feelings did the recollection of her agony arouse? -With burning head and thorn-pierced heart, I turned back a blotted page -in life. Again, with horror stirring my blood, did I see her in that -sweat of mortal agony, and hear that shriek that rung from her soul! Oh, -God, these memories are a living torture to me, even now. But though -Nace had touched the tenderest, sorest part of my heart, I said nothing -to him. The strange workings of my countenance attracted Amy's -attention, and, coming up to me, with an innocent air, she asked: - -"What is the matter, Ann? Has anything happened to you?" - -These questions, put by a simple child, one, too, whose own young life -had been deeply acquainted with grief, were too much for my assumed -stolidity. Tears were the only reply I could make. The child regarded -me curiously, and the expression, "poor thing," burst from her lips. I -felt grateful for even her sympathy, and put my hand out to her. - -She grasped it, and, leaning close to me, said: - -"Don't cry, Ann; me is sorry fur you. Don't cry any more." - -Poor thing, she could feel sympathy; she, who was so loaded with -trouble, whose existence had none of the freshness and vernal beauty of -youth, but was seared and blighted like age, held in the depths of her -heart a pure drop of genuine sympathy, which she freely offered me. Oh, -did not my selfishness stand rebuked. - -Looking out of the window, far down the path that wound to the spring, I -descried the fair form of the young John, advancing toward the house. -Pale and pure, with his blue eyes pensively looking up to heaven, an air -of peaceful thought and subdued emotion was breathing from his very -form. When I looked at him, he suggested the idea of serenity. There was -that about him which, like the moonlight, inspired calm. He was walking -more rapidly than I had ever seen him; but the pallor of his cheek, and -the clear, cold blue of his heaven-lit eye, harmonized but poorly with -the jarring discords of life. I thought of the pure, passionless apostle -John, whom Christ so loved? And did I not dream that this youth, too, -had on earth a mission of love to perform? Was he not one of the sacred -chosen? He came walking slowly, as if he were communing with some -invisible presence. - -"Thar comes young Masser, and I is glad, kase he looks so good like. I -does lub him," said Amy. - -"Now, I is gwine fur to tell Masser, and he will gib you a beatin', -nigger-gal, for sayin' you lub a white gemman," replied the sardonic -Nace. - -"Oh, please don't tell on me. I did not mean any harm," and she burst -into tears, well-knowing that a severe whipping would be the reward of -her construed impertinence. - -Before I had time to offer her any consolation, the subject of -conversation himself stood among us. With a low, tuneful voice, he spoke -to Amy, inquiring the cause of her tears. - -"Oh, young Masser, I did not mean any harm. Please don't hab me beat." -Little Ben joined in her tears, whilst the two girls clung fondly to her -dress. - -"Beaten for what?" asked young master, in a most encouraging manner. - -"She say she lub you--jist as if a black wench hab any right to lub a -beautiful white gemman," put in Nace. - -"I am glad she does, and wish that I could do something that would make -her love me more." And a _beatific_ smile overspread his peaceful face. -"Come, poor Amy, let me see if I haven't some little present for you," -and he drew from his pocket a picayune, which he handed her. With a wild -and singular contortion of her body, she made an acknowledgment of -thanks, and kissing the hem of his robe, she darted off from the -kitchen, with little Ben in her arms. - -Without saying one word, young master walked away from the kitchen, but -not without first casting a sorrowful look upon Nace. Strange it seemed -to me, that this noble youth never administered a word of reproof to any -one. He conveyed all rebukes by means of looks. Upon me this would have -produced a greater impression, for those mild, reproachful eyes spoke -with a power which no language could equal; but on one of Nace's -obtuseness, it had no effect whatever. - -Shortly after, I left the kitchen, and went to the breakfast-room, -where, with the utmost expedition, I arranged the table, and then -repaired to the chamber of the young ladies. I found that they had -already risen from their bed. Miss Bradly (who had spent the night with -them) was standing at the mirror, braiding her long hair. Miss Jane was -seated in a large chair, with an elegant dressing-wrapper, waiting for -me to comb her "auburn hair," as she termed it. Miss Tildy, in a lazy -attitude, was talking about the events of the previous evening. - -"Now, Miss Emily, I do think him very handsome; but I cannot forgive his -gross Abolition sentiments." - -"How horribly vulgar and low he is in his notions," said Miss Jane. - -"Oh, but, girls, he was reared in the North, with those fanatical -Abolitionists, and we can scarcely blame him." - -"What a horrible set of men those Abolitionists must be. They have no -sense," said Miss Jane, with quite a Minerva air. - -"Oh, sense they assuredly have, but judgment they lack. They are a set -of brain-sick dreamers, filled with Utopian schemes. They know nothing -of Slavery as it exists at the South; and the word, which, I confess, -has no very pleasant sound, has terrified them." This remark was made by -Miss Bradly, and so astonished me that I fixed my eyes upon her, and, -with one look, strove to express the concentrated contempt and -bitterness of my nature. This look she did not seem to heed. With -strange feelings of distrust in the integrity of human nature, I went on -about my work, which was to arrange and deck Miss Jane's hair, but I -would have given worlds not to have felt toward Miss Bradly as I did. I -remembered with what a different spirit she had spoken to me of those -Abolitionists, whom she now contemned so much, and referred to as vain -dreamers. Where was the exalted philanthropy that I had thought dwelt in -her soul? Was she not, now, the weakest and most sordid of mortals? -Where was that far and heaven-reaching love, that had seemed to encircle -her as a living, burning zone? Gone! dissipated, like a golden mist! and -now, before my sight she stood, poor and a beggar, upon the great -highway of life. - -"I can tell you," said Miss Tildy, "I read the other day in a newspaper -that the reason these northern men are so strongly in favor of the -abolition of slavery is, that they entertain a prejudice against the -South, and that all this political warfare originated in the base -feeling of envy." - -"And that is true," put in Miss Jane; "they know that cotton, rice and -sugar are the great staples of the South, and where can you find any -laborers but negroes to produce them?" - -"Could not the poor class of whites go there and work for wages?" -pertinently asked Miss Tildy, who had a good deal of the spirit of -altercation in her. - -"No, of course not; because they are free and could not be made to work -at all times. They would consent to be employed only at certain periods. -They would not work when they were in the least sick, and they would, -because of their liberty, claim certain hours as their own; whereas the -slave has no right to interpose any word against the overseer's order. -Sick or well, he _must_ work at busy seasons of the year. The whip has a -terribly sanitary power, and has been proven to be a more efficient -remedy than rhubarb or senna." After delivering herself of this -wonderful argument, Miss Jane seemed to experience great relief. Miss -Bradly turned from the mirror, and, smiling sycophantically upon her, -said: "Why, my dear, how well you argue! You are a very Cicero in -debate." - -That was enough. This compliment took ready root in the shallow mind of -the receiver, and her love for Miss B. became greater than ever. - -"But I do think him so handsome," broke from Miss Tildy's lips, in a -half audible voice. - -"Whom?" asked Miss Bradly. - -"Why, the stranger of last evening; the fair-browed Robert Worth." - -"Handsome, indeed, is he!" was the reply. - -"I hope, Matilda Peterkin, you would not be so disloyal to the South, -and to the very honorable institution under which your father -accumulated his wealth, as to even admire a low-flung northern -Abolitionist;" and Miss Jane reddened with all a Southron's ire. - -Miss Bradly was about to speak, but to what purpose the world to this -day remains ignorant, for oath after oath, and blasphemy by the volley, -so horrible that I will spare myself and the reader the repetition, -proceeded from the room of Mr. Peterkin. - -The ladies sprang to their feet, and, in terror, rushed from the -apartment. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -MR. PETERKIN'S RAGE--ITS ESCAPE--CHAT AT THE BREAKFAST TABLE--CHANGE OF -VIEWS--POWER OF THE FLESH POTS. - - -It was as I had expected; the news of Lindy's flight had been -communicated by Nace to Mr. Peterkin, and his rage knew no limits. It -was dangerous to go near him. Raving like a madman, he tore the covering -of the bed to shreds, brandished his cowhide in every direction, took -down his gun, and swore he would "shoot every d----d nigger on the -place." His daughters had no influence over him. Out of bed he would -get, declaring that "all this devilment" would not have been perpetrated -if he had not been detained there by the order of that d----d doctor, -who had no reason for keeping him there but a desire to get his money. -Fearing that his hyena rage might vent some of its gall on them, the -ladies made no further opposition to his intention. - -Standing just without the door, I heard Miss Jane ask him if he would -not first take some breakfast. - -"No; cuss your breakfast. I want none of it; I want to be among them ar' -niggers, and give 'em a taste of this cowhide, that they have been -sufferin' fur." - -In affright I fled to the kitchen, and told Aunt Polly that the storm -had at length broken in all its fury. Each one of the negroes eyed the -others in silent dismay. - -Pale with rage and debility, hot fury flashing from his eye, and white -froth gathering upon his lips, Mr. Peterkin dashed into the kitchen. "In -the name of h--ll and its fires, niggers, what does this mean? Tell me -whar that d----d gal is, or I'll cut every mother's child of you to -death." - -Not one spoke. Lash after lash he dealt in every direction. - -"Speak, h--ll hounds, or I'll throttle you!" he cried, as he caught Jake -and Dan by the throat, with each hand, and half strangled them. With -their eyes rolling, and their tongues hanging from their mouths, they -had not power to answer. As soon as he loosened his grasp, and their -voices were sufficiently their own to speak, they attempted a denial; -but a blow from each of Mr. Peterkin's fists levelled them to the floor. -In this dreadful state, and with a hope of getting a moment's respite, -Jake (poor fellow, I forgive him for it) pointed to me, saying: - -"She knows all 'bout it." - -This had the desired effect; finding one upon whom he could vent his -whole wrath, Peterkin rushed up to me, and Oh, such a blow as descended -upon my head! Fifty stars blazed around me. My brain burned and ached; a -choking rush of tears filled my eyes and throat. "Mercy! mercy!" broke -from my agonized lips; but, alas! I besought it from a tribunal where it -was not to be found. Blow after blow he dealt me. I strove not to parry -them, but stood and received them, as, right and left, they fell like a -hail-storm. Tears and blood bathed my face and blinded my sight. "You -cussed fool, I'll make you rue the day you was born, if you hide from me -what you knows 'bout it." - -I asseverated, in the most solemn way, that I knew nothing of Lindy's -flight. - -"You are a liar," he cried out, and enforced his words with another -blow. - -"She is not," cried Aunt Polly, whose forbearance had now given out. -This unexpected boldness in one of the most humble and timid of his -slaves, enraged him still farther, and he dealt her such a blow that my -heart aches even now, as I think of it. - -A summons from one of the ladies recalled him to the house. Before -leaving he pronounced a desperate threat against us, which amounted to -this--that we should all be tied to the "post," and beaten until -confession was wrung from us, and then taken to L----, and sold to a -trader, for the southern market. But I did not share, with the others, -that wondrous dread of the fabled horror of "down the river." I did not -believe that anywhere slavery existed in a more brutal and cruel form -than in the section of Kentucky where I lived. Solitary instances of -kind and indulgent masters there were; but they were the few exceptions -to the almost universal rule. - -Now, when Mr. Peterkin withdrew, I, forgetful of my own wounds, lifted -Aunt Polly in my arms, and bore her, half senseless, to the cabin, and -laid her upon her ragged bed. "Great God!" I exclaimed, as I bent above -her, "can this thing last long? How much longer will thy divine patience -endure? How much longer must we bear this scourge, this crown of thorns, -this sweat of blood? Where and with what Calvary shall this martyrdom -terminate? Oh, give me patience, give me fortitude to bow to Thy will! -Sustain me, Jesus, Thou who dost know, hast tasted of humanity's -bitterest cup, give me grace to bear yet a little longer!" - -With this prayer upon my lips I rose from the bedside where I had been -kneeling, and, taking Aunt Polly's horny hands within my own, I -commenced chafing them tenderly. I bathed her temples with cold water. -She opened her eyes languidly, looked round the room slowly, and then -fixed them upon me, with a bewildered expression. I spoke to her in a -gentle tone; she pushed me some distance from her, eyed me with a vacant -glance, then, shaking her head, turned over on her side and closed her -eyes. Believing that she was stunned and faint from the blow she had -received, I thought it best that she should sleep awhile. Gently -spreading the coverlet over her, I returned to the kitchen, where the -affrighted group of negroes yet remained. Stricken by a panic they had -not power of volition. - -Casting one look of reproach upon Jake, I turned away, intending to go -and see if the ladies required my attention in the breakfast-room; but -in the entry, which separated the house from the kitchen, I encountered -Amy, with little Ben seated upon her hip. This is the usual mode with -nurses in Kentucky of carrying children. I have seen girls actually -deformed from the practice. An enlargement of the right hip is caused by -it, and Amy was an example of this. Had I been in a different mood, her -position and appearance would have provoked laughter. There she stood, -with her broad eyes wide open, and glaring upon me; her unwashed face -and uncombed hair were adorned by the odd ends of broken straws and bits -of hay that clung to the naps of wool; her mouth was opened to its -utmost capacity; her very ears were erect with curiosity; and her form -bent eagerly forward, whilst little Ben was coiled up on her hip, with -his sharp eyes peering like those of a mouse over her shoulder. - -"Ann," she cried out, "tell me what's de matter? What's Masser goin' to -do wid us all?" - -"I don't know, Amy," I answered in a faltering tone, for I feared much -for her. - -"I hopes de child'en will go 'long wid me, an' I'd likes for you to go -too, Ann." - -I did not trust myself to reply; but, passing hastily on, entered the -breakfast-room, where Jane, Tildy, and Miss Bradly were seated at the -table, with their breakfast scarcely tasted. They were bending over -their plates in an intensity of interest which made them forget -everything, save their subject of conversation. - -"How she could have gotten off without creating any alarm, is to me a -mystery," said Miss Jane, as she toyed with her spoon and cup. - -"Well, old Nick is in them. Negroes, I believe, are possessed by some -demon. They have the witch's power of slipping through an auger-hole," -said Miss Tildy. - -"They are singular creatures," replied Miss Bradly; "and I fear a great -deal of useless sympathy is expended upon them." - -"You may depend there is," said Miss Jane. "I only wish these Northern -abolitionists had our servants to deal with. I think it would drive the -philanthropy out of them." - -"Indeed would it," answered Miss Bradly, as she took a warm roll, and -busied herself spreading butter thereon; "they have no idea of the -trials attending the duty of a master; the patience required in the -management of so many different dispositions. I think a residence in the -South or South-west would soon change their notions. The fact is, I -think those fanatical abolitionists agitate the question only for -political purposes. Now, it is a clearly-ascertained thing, that slavery -would be prejudicial to the advancement of Northern enterprise. The -negro is an exotic from a tropical region, hence lives longer, and is -capable of more work in a warm climate. They have no need of black labor -at the North; and thus, I think, the whole affair resolves itself into a -matter of sectional gain and interest." - -Here she helped herself to the wing of a fried chicken. It seemed that -the argument had considerably whetted her appetite. Astonishing, is it -not, how the loaves and fishes of this goodly life will change and sway -our opinions? Even sober-minded, educated people, cannot repress their -pinings after the flesh-pots of Egypt. - -Miss Jane seemed delighted to find that her good friend and instructress -held the Abolition party in such contempt. Just then young master -entered. With quiet, saintly manner, taking his seat at the table, he -said, - -"Is not the abolition power strong at the North, Miss Emily?" - -"Oh, no, Johnny, 'tis comparatively small; confined, I assure you, to a -few fanatical spirits. The merchants of New York, Boston, and the other -Northern cities, carry on a too extensive commerce with the South to -adopt such dangerous sentiments. There is a comity of men as well as -States; and the clever rule of 'let alone' is pretty well observed." - -Young master made no reply in words, but fixed his large, mysterious -eyes steadfastly upon her. Was it mournfulness that streamed, with a -purple light, from them, or was it a sublimated contempt? He said -nothing, but quietly ate his breakfast. His fare was as homely as that -of an ascetic; he never used meat, and always took bread without -butter. A simple crust and glass of milk, three times a day, was his -diet. Miss Jane gave him a careless and indifferent glance, then -proceeded with the conversation, totally unconscious of his presence; -but again and again he cast furtive, anxious glances toward her, and I -thought I noticed him sighing. - -"What will father do with Lindy, if she should be caught?" asked Miss -Tildy. - -"Send her down the river, of course," was Miss Jane's response. - -"She deserves it," said Miss Tildy. - -"Does she?" asked the deep, earnest voice of young master. - -Was it because he was unused to asking questions, or was there something -in the strange earnestness of his tone, that made those three ladies -start so suddenly, and regard him with such an astonished air? Yet none -of them replied, and thus for a few moments conversation ceased, until -he rose from the table and left the room. - -"He is a strange youth," said Miss Bradly, "and how wondrously handsome! -He always suggests romantic notions." - -"Yes, but I think him very stupid. He never talks to any of us--is -always alone, seeks old and unfrequented spots; neither in the winter -nor summer will he remain within doors. Something seems to lure him to -the wood, even when despoiled of its foliage. He must be slightly -crazed--ma's health was feeble for some time previous to his birth, -which the doctors say has injured his constitution, and I should not be -surprised if his intellect had likewise suffered." This speech was -pronounced by Miss Tildy in quite an oracular tone. - -Miss Bradly made no answer, and I marvelled not at her changing color. -Had she not power to read, in that noble youth's voice and manner, the -high enduring truth and singleness of purpose that dwelt in his nature? -Though he had never spoken one word in relation to slavery, I knew that -all his instincts were against it; and that opposition to it was the -principle deeply ingrained in his heart. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -RECOLLECTIONS--CONSOLING INFLUENCE OF SYMPATHY--AMY'S DOCTRINE OF THE -SOUL--TALK AT THE SPRING. - - -As Mr. Peterkin was passing through the vestibule of the front door, he -met young master standing there. Now, this was Mr. Peterkin's favorite -child, for, though he did not altogether like that quietude of manner, -which he called "poke-easy," the boy had never offered him any affront -about his incorrect language, or treated him with indignity in any way. -And then he was so beautiful! True, his father could not appreciate the -spiritual nobility of his face; yet the symmetry of his features and the -spotless purity of his complexion, answered even to Mr. Peterkin's idea -of beauty. The coarsest and most vulgar soul is keenly alive to the -beauty of the rose and lily; though that concealed loveliness, which is -only hinted at by the rare fragrance, may be known only to the -cultivated and poetic heart. Often I have heard him say, "John is pretty -enoff to be a gal." - -Now as he met him in the vestibule, he said, "John, I'm in a peck o' -trouble." - -"I am sorry you are in trouble father." - -"That cussed black wench, Lindy, is off, and I'm 'fraid the neighborhood -kant be waked up soon enough to go arter and ketch her. Let me git her -once more in my clutches, and I'll make her pay for it. I'll give her -one good bastin' that she'll 'member, and then I'll send her down the -river fur enough." - -The boy made no reply; but, with his eyes cast down on the earth, he -seemed to be unconscious of all that was going on around him. When he -raised his head his eyes were burning, his breath came thick and short, -and a deep scarlet spot shone on the whiteness of his cheek; the veins -in his forehead lay like heavy cords, and his very hair seemed to -sparkle. He looked as one inspired. This was unobserved by his parent, -who hastily strode away to find more willing listeners. I tarried in a -place where, unnoticed by others, I commanded a good out-look. I saw -young master clasp his hands fervently, and heard him passionately -exclaim--"How much longer, oh, how much longer shall this be?" Then -slowly walking down his favorite path, he was lost to my vision. -"Blessed youth, heaven-missioned, if thou wouldst only speak to me! One -word of consolation from God-anointed lips like thine, would soothe even -the sting of bondage; but no," I added, "that earnest look, that gentle -tone, tell perhaps as much as it is necessary for me to know. This -silence proceeds from some noble motive. Soon enough he will make -himself known to us." - -In a little while the news of Lindy's departure had spread through the -neighborhood like a flame. Our yard and house were filled with men come -to offer their services to their neighbor, who, from his wealth, was -considered a sort of magnate among them. - -Pretty soon they were mounted on horses, and armed to the teeth, each -one with a horn fastened to his belt, galloping off in quest of the poor -fugitive. And is this thing done beneath the influence of civilized -laws, and by men calling themselves Christians? What has armed those -twelve men with pistols, and sent them on an excursion like this? Is it -to redeem a brother from a band of lawless robbers, who hold him in -captivity? Is it to right some individual wrong? Is it to take part with -the weak and oppressed against the strong and the overbearing? No, no, -my friends, on no such noble mission as this have they gone. No purpose -of high emprise has made them buckle on the sword and prime the pistol. -A poor, lone female, who, through years, has been beaten, tyrannized -over, and abused, has ventured out to seek what this constitution -professes to secure to every one--liberty. Barefoot and alone, she has -gone forth; and 'tis to bring her back to a vile and brutal slavery -that these men have sallied out, regardless of her sex, her destitution, -and her misery. They have set out either to recapture her or to shoot -her down in her tracks like a dog. And this is a system which Christian -men speak of as heaven-ordained! This is a thing countenanced by -freemen, whose highest national boast is, that theirs is the land of -liberty, equality, and free-rights! These are the people who yearly send -large sums to Ireland; who pray for the liberation of Hungary; who wish -to transmit armed forces across the Atlantic to aid vassal States in -securing their liberty! These are they who talk so largely of Cuba, -expend so much sympathy upon the oppressed of other lands, and predict -the downfall of England for her oppressive form of government! Oh, -America! "first pluck the beam out of thine own eye, then shalt thou see -more clearly the mote that is in thy brother's." - -When I watched those armed men ride away, in such high courage and -eagerness for the hunt, I thought of Lindy, poor, lone girl, fatigued, -worn and jaded, suffering from thirst and hunger; her feet torn and -bruised with toil, hiding away in bogs and marshes, with an ear -painfully acute to every sound. I thought of this, and all the -resentment I had ever felt toward her faded away as a vapor. - -All that day the house was in a state of intense excitement. The -servants could not work with their usual assiduity. Indeed, such was the -excitement, even of the white family, that we were not strictly required -to labor. - -Miss Jane gave me some fancy-sewing to do for her. Taking it with me to -Aunt Polly's cabin, intending to talk with her whilst time was allowed -me, I was surprised and pleased to find the old woman still asleep. "It -will do her good," I thought, "she needs rest, poor creature! And that -blow was given to her on my account! How much I would rather have -received it myself." I then examined her head, and was glad to find no -mark or bruise; so I hoped that with a good sleep she would wake up -quite well. I seated myself on an old stool, near the door, which, -notwithstanding the rawness of the day, I was obliged to leave open to -admit light. It was a cool, windy morning, such as makes a woollen shawl -necessary. My young mistresses had betaken themselves to cashmere -wrappers and capes; but I still wore my thin and "seedy" calico. As I -sewed on, upon Miss Jane's embroidery, many _fancies_ came in troops -through my brain, defiling like a band of ghosts through each private -gallery and hidden nook of memory, and even to the very inmost -compartment of secret thought! My mother, with her sad, sorrow-stricken -face, my old companions and playfellows in the long-gone years, all -arose with vividness to my eye! Where were they all? Where had they been -during the lapse of years? Of my mother I had never heard a word. Was -she dead? At that suggestion I started, and felt my heart grow chill, as -though an icy hand had clenched it; yet why felt I so? Did I not know -that the grave would be to her as a bed of ease? What torture could -await her beyond the pass of the valley of shadows? She, who had been -faithful over a little, would certainly share in those blessed rewards -promised by Christ; yet it seemed to me that my heart yearned to look -upon her again in this life. I could not, without pain, think of her as -_one who had been_. There was something selfish in this, yet was it -intensely human, and to feel otherwise I should have had to be less -loving, less filial in my nature. "Oh, mother!" I said, "if ever we meet -again, will it be a meeting that shall know no separation? Mother, are -you changed? Have you, by the white man's coarse brutality, learned to -forget your absent child? Do not thoughts of her often come to your -lonely soul with the sighing of the midnight wind? Do not the high and -merciful stars, that nightly burn above you, recall me to your heart? -Does not the child-loved moon speak to you of times when, as a little -thing, I nestled close to your bosom? Or, mother, have other ties grown -around your heart? Have other children supplanted your eldest-born? Do -chirruping lips and bright eyes claim all your thoughts? Or do you toil -alone, broken in soul and bent in body, beneath the drudgery of human -labor, without one soft voice to lull you to repose? Oh, not this, not -this, kind Heaven! Let her forget me, in her joy; give her but peace, -and on me multiply misfortunes, rain down evils, only spare, shield and -protect _her_." This tide of thought, as it rolled rapidly through my -mind, sent the hot tears, in gushes, from my eyes. As I bent my head to -wipe them away, without exactly seeing it, I became aware of a blessed -presence; and, lifting my moist eyes, I beheld young master standing -before me, with that calm, spiritual glance which had so often charmed -and soothed me. - -"What is the matter, Ann? Why are you weeping?" he asked me in a gentle -voice. - -"Nothing, young Master, only I was thinking of my mother." - -"How long since you saw her?" - -"Oh, years, young Master; I have not seen her since my childhood--not -since Master bought me." - -He heaved a deep sigh, but said nothing; those eyes, with a soft, -shadowed light, as though they were shining through misty tears, were -bent upon me. - -"Where is your mother now, Ann?" - -"I don't know, young Master, I've never heard from her since I came -here." - -Again he sighed, and now he passed his thin white hand across his eyes, -as if to dissipate the mist. - -"You think she was sold when you were, don't you?" - -"I expect she was. I'm almost sure she was, for I don't think either my -young Masters or Mistresses wished or expected to retain the servants." - -"I wish I could find out something about her for you; but, at present, -it is out of my power. You must do the best you can. You are a good -girl, Ann; I have noticed how patiently you bear hard trouble. Do you -pray?" - -"Oh, yes, young Master, and that is all the pleasure I have. What would -be my situation without prayer? Thanks to God, the slave has this -privilege!" - -"Yes, Ann, and in God's eyes you are equal to a white person. He makes -no distinction; your soul is as precious and dear to Him as is that of -the fine lady clad in silk and gems." - -I opened my eyes to gaze upon him, as he stood there, with his beautiful -face beaming with good feeling and love for the humblest and lowest of -God's creatures. This was religion! This was the spirit which Christ -commended. This was the love which He daily preached and practiced. - -"But how is Aunt Polly? I heard that she was suffering much." - -"She is sleeping easily now," I replied. - -"Well, then, don't disturb her. It is better that she should sleep;" and -he walked away, leaving me more peaceful and happy than before. Blessed -youth!--why have we not more such among us! They would render the thongs -and fetters of slavery less galling. - -The day was unusually quiet; but the frostiness of the atmosphere kept -the ladies pretty close within doors; and Mr. Peterkin had, contrary to -the wishes of his family, and the injunctions of his physician, gone out -with the others upon the search; besides, he had taken Nace and the -other men with him, and, as Aunt Polly was sick, Ginsy had been -appointed in her place to prepare dinner. After sewing very diligently -for some time, I wandered out through the poultry lot, lost in a -labyrinth of strange reflection. As I neared the path leading down -toward the spring, young master's favorite walk, I could not resist the -temptation to follow it to its delightful terminus, where he was wont to -linger all the sunny summer day, and frequently passed many hours in the -winter time? I was superstitious enough to think that some of his deep -and rich philanthropy had been caught, as by inspiration, from this -lovely natural retreat; for how could the child of such a low, beastly -parent, inherit a disposition so heavenly, and a soul so spotless? He -had been bred amid scenes of the most revolting cruelty; had lived with -people of the harshest and most brutal dispositions; yet had he -contracted from them no moral stain. Were they not hideous to look upon, -and was he not lovely as a seraph? Were they not low and vulgar, and he -lofty and celestial-minded? Why and how was this? Ah, did I not believe -him to be one of God's blessed angels, lent us for a brief season? - -The path was well-trodden, and wound and curved through the woods, down -to a clear, natural spring of water. There had been made, by the order -of young master, a turfetted seat, overgrown by soft velvet moss, and -here this youth would sit for hours to ponder, and, perhaps, to weave -golden fancies which were destined to ripen into rich fruition in that -land beyond the shores of time. As I drew near the spring, I imagined -that a calm and holy influence was settling over me. The spirit of the -place had power upon me, and I yielded myself to the spell. It was no -disease of fancy, or dream of enchantment, that thus possessed me; for -there, half-reclining on the mossy bench, I beheld young master, and, -seated at his feet, with her little, odd, wondering face uplifted to -his, was Amy; and, crawling along, playing with the moss, and looking -down into the mirror of the spring, peered the bright eyes of little -Ben. It was a scene of such beauty that I paused to take a full view of -it, before making my presence known. Young master, with his pale, -intellectual face, his classic head, his sun-bright curls, and his -earnest blue eyes, sat in a half-lounging attitude, making no -inappropriate picture of an angel of light, whilst the two little black -faces seemed emblems of fallen, degraded humanity, listening to his -pleading voice. - -"Wherever you go, or in whatever condition you may be, Amy, never forget -to pray to the good Lord." As he said this, he bent his eyes -compassionately on her. - -"Oh, laws, Masser, how ken I pray! de good Lord wouldn't hear me. I is -too black and dirty." - -"God does not care for that. You are as dear to Him as the finest lady -of the land." - -"Oh, now, Masser, you doesn't tink me is equal to you, a fine, nice, -pretty white gemman--dress so fine." - -"God cares not, my child, for clothes, or the color of the skin. He -values the heart alone; and if your heart is clear, it matters not -whether your face be black or your clothes mean." - -"Laws, now, young Masser," and the child laughed heartily at the idea, -"you doesn't 'spect a nigger's heart am clean. I tells you 'tis black -and dirty as dere faces." - -"My poor child, I would that I had power to scatter the gloomy mist that -beclouds your mind, and let you see and know that our dying Saviour -embraced all your unfortunate race in the merits of his divine -atonement." - -This speech was not comprehended by Amy. She sat looking vacantly at -him; marvelling all the while at his pretty talk, yet never once -believing that Jesus prized a negro's soul. Young master's eyes were, as -usual, elevated to the clear, majestic heavens. Not a cloud floated in -the still, serene expanse, and the air was chill. One moment longer I -waited, before revealing myself. Stepping forward, I addressed young -master in an humble tone. - -"Well, Ann, what do you want?" This was not said in a petulant voice, -but with so much gentleness that it invited the burdened heart to make -its fearful disclosure. - -"Oh, young Master, I know that you will pardon me for what I am going to -ask. I cannot longer restrain myself. Tell me what is to become of us? -When shall we be sold? Into whose hands shall I fall?" - -"Alas, poor Ann, I am as ignorant of father's intentions as you are. I -would that I could relieve your anxiety, but I am as uneasy about it as -you or any one can be. Oh, I am powerless to do anything to better your -unfortunate condition. I am weak as the weakest of you." - -"I know, young Master, that we have your kindest sympathy, and this -knowledge softens my trouble." - -He did not reply, but sat with a perplexed expression, looking on the -ground. - -"Oh, Ann, you has done gin young Masser some trouble. What fur you do -dat? We niggers ain't no 'count any how, and you hab no sort ob -bisiness be troublin' young Masser 'bout it," said Amy. - -"Be still, Amy, let Ann speak her troubles freely. It will relieve her -mind. You may tell me of yours too." - -Sitting down upon the sward, close to his feet, I relieved my oppressed -bosom by a copious flood of tears. Still he spoke not, but sat silent, -looking down. Amy was awed into stillness, and even little Ben became -calm and quiet as a lamb. No one broke the spell. No one seemed anxious -to do so. There are some feelings for which silence is the best -expression. - -At length he said mildly, "Now, my good friends, it might be made the -subject of ungenerous remarks, if you were to be seen talking with me -long. You had better return to the house." - -As Amy and I, with little Ben, rose to depart, he looked after us, and -sighing, exclaimed, "poor creatures, my heart bleeds for you!" - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -THE PRATTLINGS OF INSANITY--OLD WOUNDS REOPEN--THE WALK TO THE -DOCTOR'S--INFLUENCE OF NATURE. - - -Upon my return to the house I hastened on to the cabin, hoping to find -Aunt Polly almost entirely recovered. Passing hastily through the yard I -entered the cabin with a light step, and to my surprise found her -sitting up in a chair, playing with some old faded artificial flowers, -the dilapidated decorations of Miss Tildy's summer bonnet, which had -been swept from the house with the litter on the day before. I had never -seen her engaged in a pastime so childish and sportive, and was not a -little astonished, for her aversion to flowers had often been to me the -subject of remark. - -"What have you there that is pretty, Aunt Polly?" I asked with -tenderness. - -With a wondering, childish smile, she held the crushed blossoms up, and -turning them over and over in her hands, said: - -"Putty things! ye is berry putty!" then pressing them to her bosom, she -stroked the leaves as kindly as though she had been smoothing the truant -locks of a well-beloved child. I could not understand this freak, for -she was one to whose uncultured soul all sweet and pretty fancies seemed -alien. Looking up to me with that vacant glance which at once explained -all, she said: - -"Who's dar? Who is you? Oh, dat is my darter," and addressing me by the -remembered name of her own long-lost child, she traversed, in thought, -the whole waste-field of memory. Not a single wild-flower in the wayside -of the heart was neglected or forgotten. She spoke of times when she had -toyed and dandled her infant darling upon her knee; then, shudderingly, -she would wave me off, with terror written all over her furrowed face, -and cry, "Get you away, Masser is comin': thar, thar he is; see him wid -de ropes; he is comin' to tar you 'way frum me. Here, here child, git -under de bed, hide frum 'em, dey is all gwine to take you 'way--'way -down de river, whar you'll never more see yer poor old mammy." Then -sinking upon her knees, with her hands outstretched, and her eyes -eagerly strained forward, and bent on vacancy, she frantically cried: - -"Masser, please, please Masser, don't take my poor chile from me. It's -all I is got on dis ar' airth; Masser, jist let me hab it and I'll work -fur you, I'll sarve you all de days ob my life. You may beat my ole back -as much as you please; you may make me work all de day and all de night, -jist, so I ken keep my chile. Oh, God, oh, God! see, dere dey goes, wid -my poor chile screaming and crying for its mammy! See, see it holds its -arms to me! Oh, dat big hard man struck it sich a blow. Now, now dey is -out ob sight." And crawling on her knees, with arms outspread, she -seemed to be following some imaginary object, until, reaching the door, -I feared in her transport of agony she would do herself some injury, -and, catching her strongly in my arms, I attempted to hold her back; but -she was endowed with a superhuman strength, and pushed me violently -against the wall. - -"Thar, you wretch, you miserble wretch, dat would keep me from my chile, -take dat blow, and I wish it would send yer to yer grave." - -Recoiling a few steps, I looked at her. A wild and lurid light gathered -in her eye, and a fiendish expression played over her face. She clenched -her hands, and pressed her old broken teeth hard upon her lips, until -the blood gushed from them; frothing at the mouth, and wild with -excitement, she made an attempt to bound forward and fell upon the -floor. I screamed for help, and sprang to lift her up. Blood oozed from -her mouth and nose; her eyes rolled languidly, and her under-jaw fell as -though it were broken. - -In terror I bore her to the bed, and, laying her down, I went to get a -bowl of water to wash the blood and foam from her face. Meeting Amy at -the door, I told her Aunt Polly was very sick, and requested her to -remain there until my return. - -I fled to the kitchen, and seizing a pan of water that stood upon the -shelf, returned to the cabin. There I found young master bending over -Aunt Polly, and wiping the blood-stains from her mouth and nose with his -own handkerchief. This was, indeed, the ministration of the high to the -lowly. This generous boy never remembered the distinctions of color, but -with that true spirit of human brotherhood which Christ inculcated by -many memorable examples, he ministered to the humble, the lowly, and the -despised. Indeed, such seemed to take a firmer hold upon his heart. -Here, in this lowly cabin, like the good Samaritan of old, he paused to -bind up the wounds of a poor outcast upon the dreary wayside of -existence. - -Bending tenderly over Aunt Polly, until his luxuriant golden curls swept -her withered face, he pressed his linen handkerchief to her mouth and -nose to staunch the rapid flow of blood. - -"Oh, Ann, have you come with the water? I fear she is almost gone; throw -it in her face with a slight force, it may revive her," he said in a -calm tone. - -I obeyed, but there was no sign of consciousness. After one or two -repetitions she moved a little, young master drew a bottle of sal -volatile from his pocket, and applied it to her nose. The effect was -sudden; she started up spasmodically, and looking round the room laughed -wildly, frightfully; then, shaking her head, her face resumed its look -of pitiful imbecility. - -"The light is quenched, and forever," said young master, and the tears -came to his eyes and rolled slowly down his cheeks. Amy, with Ben in her -arms, stood by in anxious wonder; creeping up to young master's side, -she looked earnestly in his face, saying-- - -"Don't cry, Masser, Aunt Polly will soon be well; she jist sick for -little while. De lick Masser gib her only hurt her little time,--she -'most well now, but her does look mighty wild." - -"Oh, Lord, how much longer must these poor people be tried in the -furnace of affliction? How much longer wilt thou permit a suffering race -to endure this harsh warfare? Oh, Divine Father, look pityingly down on -this thy humble servant, who is so sorely tried." The latter part of the -speech was uttered as he sank upon his knees; and down there upon the -coarse puncheon floor we all knelt, young master forming the central -figure of the group, whilst little Amy, the baby-boy Ben, and the poor -lunatic, as if in mimicry, joined us. We surrounded him, and surely that -beautiful heart-prayer must have reached the ear of God. When such -purity asks for grace and mercy upon the poor and unfortunate, the ear -of Divine grace listens. - -"What fur you pray?" asked the poor lunatic. - -"I ask mercy for sore souls like thine." - -"Oh, dat is funny; but say, sir, whar is my chile? Whar is she? Why -don't she come to me? She war here a minnit ago; but now she does be -gone away." - -"Oh, what a mystery is the human frame! Lyre of the spirit, how soon is -thy music jarred into discord." Young master uttered this rhapsody in a -manner scarcely audible, but to my ear no sound of his was lost, not a -word, syllable, or tone! - -"Poor Luce--is dat Luce?" and the poor, crazed creature stared at me -with a bewildered gaze! "and my baby-boy, whar is he, and my oldest -sons? Dey is all gone from me and forever." She began to weep piteously. - -"Watch with her kindly till I send Jake for the doctor," he said to me; -then rallying himself, he added, "but they are all gone--gone upon that -accursed hunt;" and, seating himself in a chair, he pressed his fingers -hard upon his closed eye-lids. "Stay, I will go myself for the -doctor--she must not be neglected." - -And rising from his chair he buttoned his coat, and, charging me to take -good care of her, was about starting, but Aunt Polly sprang forward and -caught him by the arms, exclaiming, - -"Oh, putty, far angel, don't leab me. I kan't let you leab me--stay -here. I has no peace when you is gone. Dey will come and beat me agin, -and dey will take my chil'en frum me. Oh, please now, you stay wid me." - -And she held on to him with such a pitiful fondness, and there was so -much anxiety in her face, such an infantile look of tenderness, with the -hopeless vacancy of idiocy in the eye, that to refuse her would have -been harsh; and of this young master was incapable. So, turning to me, -he said, - -"You go, Ann, for the doctor, and I will stay with her--poor old -creature I have never done anything for her, and now I will gratify -her." - -As the horses had all been taken by the pursuers of Lindy, I was forced -to walk to Dr. Mandy's farm, which was about two miles distant from Mr. -Peterkin's. I was glad of this, for of late it was indeed but seldom -that I had been allowed to indulge in a walk through the woods. All -through the leafy glory of the summer season I had looked toward the old -sequestered forest with a longing eye. Each little bird seemed wooing me -away, yet my occupations confined me closely to the house; and a -pleasure-walk, even on Sunday, was a luxury which a negro might dream of -but never indulge. Now, though it was the lonely autumn time, yet loved -I still the woods, dismantled as they were. There is something in the -grandeur of the venerable forests, that always lifts the soul to -devotion! The patriarchal trees and the delicate sward, the wind-music -and the almost ceaseless miserere of the grove, elevate the heart, and -to the cultivated mind speak with a power to which that of books is but -poor and tame. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -QUIETUDE OF THE WOODS--A GLIMPSE OF THE STRANGER--MRS. MANDY'S WORDS OF -CRUEL IRONY--SAD REFLECTIONS. - - -The freshening breeze, tempered with the keen chill of the coming -winter, made a lively music through the woods, as, floating along, it -toyed with the fallen leaves that lay dried and sere upon the earth. -There stood the giant trees, rearing their bald and lofty heads to the -heavens, whilst at their feet was spread their splendid summer livery. -Like the philosophers of old, in their calm serenity they looked away -from earth and its troubles to the "bright above." - -I wandered on, with a quick step, in the direction of the doctor's. The -recent painful events were not calculated to color my thoughts very -pleasingly; yet I had taught myself to live so entirely _within_, to be -so little affected by what was _without_, that I could be happy in -imagination, notwithstanding what was going on in the external world. -'Tis well that the negro is of an imaginative cast. Suppose he were by -nature strongly practical and matter-of-fact; life could not endure with -him. His dreaminess, his fancy, makes him happy in spite of the dreary -reality which surrounds him. The poor slave, with not a sixpence in his -pocket, dreams of the time when he shall be able to buy himself, and -revels in this most delightful Utopia. - -I had walked on for some distance, without meeting any object of special -interest, when, passing through a large "_deadening_," I was surprised -to see a gentleman seated upon a fragment of what had once been a noble -tree. He was engaged at that occupation which is commonly considered to -denote want of thought, viz., _whittling a stick_. - -I stopped suddenly, and looked at him very eagerly, for now, with the -broad day-light streaming over him, I recognized the one whom I had -watched in the dubious moonbeams! This was Mr. Robert Worth, the man who -held those dangerous Abolition principles--the fanatic, who was rash -enough to express, south of Mason and Dixon's line, the opinion that -negroes are human beings and entitled to consideration. Here now he was, -and I could look at him. How I longed to speak to him, to talk with him, -hear him tell all his generous views; to ask questions as to those free -Africans at the North who had achieved name and fame, and learn more of -the distinguished orator, Frederick Douglass! So great was my desire, -that I was almost ready to break through restraint, and, forgetful of my -own position, fling myself at his feet, and beg him to comfort me. Then -came the memory of Miss Bradly's treachery, and I sheathed my heart. -"No, no, I will not again trust to white people. They have no sympathy -with us, our natures are too simple for their cunning;" and, reflecting -thus, I walked on, yet I felt as if I could not pass him. He had spoken -so nobly in behalf of the slave, had uttered such lofty sentiments, that -my whole soul bowed down to him in worship. I longed to pay homage to -him. There is a principle in the slave's nature to reverence, to look -upward; hence, he makes the most devout Christian, and were it not for -this same spirit, he would be but a poor servant. - -So it was with difficulty I could let pass this opportunity of speaking -with one whom I held in such veneration; but I governed myself and went -on. All the distance I was pondering upon what I had heard in relation -to those of my brethren who had found an asylum in the North. Oh, once -there, I could achieve so much! I felt, within myself, a latent power, -that, under more fortunate circumstances, might be turned to advantage. -When I reached Doctor Mandy's residence I found that he had gone out to -visit a patient. His wife came out to see me, and asked, - -"Who is sick at Mr. Peterkin's?" - -I told her, "Aunt Polly, the cook." - -"Is much the matter?" - -"Yes, Madam; young master thinks she has lost her reason." - -"Lost her reason!" exclaimed Mrs. Mandy. - -"Yes, Madam; she doesn't seem to know any of us, and evidently wanders -in her thoughts." I could not repress the evidence of emotion when I -remembered how kind to me the old creature had been, nay, that for me -she had received the blow which had deprived her of reason. - -"Poor girl, don't cry," said Mrs. Mandy. This lady was of a warm, good -heart, and was naturally touched at the sight of human suffering; she -was one of that quiet sort of beings who feel a great deal and say but -little. Fearful of giving offence, she usually kept silence, lest the -open expression of her sympathy should defeat the purpose. A weak, -though a good person, she now felt annoyed because she had been beguiled -into even pity for a servant. She did not believe in slavery, yet she -dared not speak against the "peculiar institution" of the South. It -would injure the doctor's practice, a matter about which she must be -careful. - -I knew my place too well to say much; therefore I observed a respectful -silence. - -"Now, Ann, you had better hurry home. I expect there is great excitement -at your house, and the ladies will need your services to-day, -particularly; to remain out too long might excite suspicion, and be of -no service to you." - -My looks plainly showed how entire was my acquiescence. She must have -known this, and then, as if self-interest suggested it, she said, - -"You have a good home, Ann, I hope you will never do as Lindy has done. -Homes like yours are rare, and should be appreciated. Where will you -ever again find such kind mistresses and such a good master?" - -"Homes such as mine are rare!" I would that they were; but, alas! they -are too common, as many farms in Kentucky can show! Oh, what a terrible -institution this one must be, which originates and involves so many -crimes! Now, here was a kind, honest-hearted woman, who felt assured of -the criminality of slavery; yet, as it is recognized and approved by -law, she could not, save at the risk of social position, pecuniary loss -and private inconvenience, even express an opinion against it. I was the -oppressed slave of one of her wealthy neighbors; she dared not offer me -even a word of pity, but needs must outrage all my nature by telling me -that I had a "good home, kind mistresses and a good master!" Oh, bitter -mockery of torn and lacerated feelings! My blood curdled as I listened. -How much I longed to fling aside the servility at which my whole soul -revolted, and tell her, with a proud voice, how poorly I thought she -supported the dignity of a true womanhood, when thus, for the poor -reward of gold, she could smile at, and even encourage, a system which -is at war with the best interest of human nature; which aims a deadly -blow at the very machinery of society; aye, attacks the noble and -venerable institution of marriage, and breaks asunder ties which God has -commanded us to reverence! This is the policy of that institution, which -Southern people swear they will support even with their life-blood! I -have ransacked my brain to find out a clue to the wondrous infatuation. -I have known, during the years of my servitude, men who had invested -more than half of their wealth in slaves; and he is generally accounted -the greatest gentleman, who owns the most negroes. Now, there is a -reason for the Louisiana or Mississippi planter's investing largely in -this sort of property; but why the Kentucky farmer should wish to own -slaves, is a mystery: surely it cannot be for the petty ambition of -holding human beings in bondage, lording it over immortal souls! Oh, -perverse and strange human nature! Thoughts like these, with a -lightning-like power, drove through my brain and influenced my mind -against Mrs. Mandy, who, I doubt not, was, at heart, a kind, -well-meaning woman. How can the slave be a philanthropist? - -Without saying anything whereby my safety could be imperilled, I left -Mrs. Mandy's residence. When I had walked about a hundred yards from -the house, I turned and looked back, and was surprised to see her -looking after me. "Oh, white woman," I inwardly exclaimed, "nursed in -luxury, reared in the lap of bounty, with friends, home and kindred, -that mortal power cannot tear you from, how can _you_ pity the poor, -oppressed slave, who has no liberty, no right, no father, no brother, or -friend, only as the white man chooses he shall have!" Who could expect -these children of wealth, fostered by prosperity, and protected by the -law, to feel for the ignorant negro, who through ages and generations -has been crushed and kept in ignorance? We are told to love our masters! -Why should we? Are we dogs to lick the hand that strikes us? Or are we -men and women with never-dying souls--men and women unprotected in the -very land they have toiled to beautify and adorn! Oh, little, little do -ye know, my proud, free brothers and sisters in the North, of all the -misery we endure, or of the throes of soul that we have! The humblest of -us feel that we are deprived of something that we are entitled to by the -law of God and nature. - -I rambled on through the woods, wrapped in the shadows of gloom and -misanthropy. "Why," I asked myself, "can't I be a hog or dog to come at -the call of my owner? Would it not be better for me if I could repress -all the lofty emotions and generous impulses of my soul, and become a -spiritless thing? I would swap natures with the lowest insect, the -basest serpent that crawls upon the earth. Oh, that I could quench this -thirsty spirit, satisfy this hungry heart, that craveth so madly the -food and drink of knowledge! Is it right to conquer the spirit, which -God has given us? Is it best for a high-souled being to sit supinely -down and bear the vile trammels of an unnatural and immoral bondage? Are -these aspirings sent us from above? Are they wings lent the spirit from -an angel? Or must they be clipped and crushed as belonging to the evil -spirit?" As I walked on, in this state of mind, I neared the spot where -I had beheld the interesting stranger. - -To my surprise and joy I found him still there, occupied as before, in -whittling, perhaps the same stick. You, my free friends, who, from the -fortunate accident of birth, are entitled to the heritage of liberty, -can but poorly understand how very humble and degraded American slavery -makes the victim. Now, though I knew this man possessed the very -information for which I so longed, I dared not presume to address him on -a subject even of such vital import. I dare say, and indeed after-times -proved, this young apostle of reform would have applauded as heroism -what then seemed to me as audacity. - -With many a lingering look toward him, I pursued the "noiseless tenor of -my way." - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -A REFLECTION--AMERICAN ABOLITIONISTS--DISAFFECTION IN KENTUCKY--THE -YOUNG MASTER--HIS REMONSTRANCE. - - -Upon my arrival home I found that the doctor, lured by curiosity, and -not by business, had called. The news of Lindy's flight had reached him -in many garbled and exaggerated forms; so he had come to assure himself -of the truth. Of course, with all a Southern patriot's ire, he -pronounced Lindy's conduct an atrocious crime, for which she should -answer with life, or that far worse penalty (as some thought), -banishment "down the river." Thought I not strangely, severely, of those -persons, the doctor and the ladies, as they sat there, luxuriating over -a bottle of wine, denouncing vengeance against a poor, forlorn girl, who -was trying to achieve her liberty;--heroically contending for that on -which Americans pride themselves? Had she been a Hungarian or an Irish -maid, seeking an asylum from the tyranny of a King, she would have been -applauded as one whose name was worthy to be enrolled in the litany of -heroes; but she was a poor, ignorant African, with a sooty face, and -because of this all sympathy was denied her, and she was pronounced -nothing but a "runaway negro," who deserved a terrible punishment; and -the hand outstretched to relieve her, would have been called guilty of -treason. Oh, wise and boastful Americans, see ye no oppression in all -this, or do ye exult in that odious spot, which will blacken the fairest -page of your history "to the last syllable of recorded time"? Does not a -blush stain your cheeks when you make vaunting speeches about the -character of your government? Ye cannot, I know ye cannot, be easy in -your consciences; I know that a secret, unspoken trouble gnaws like a -canker in your breasts! Many of you veil your eyes, and grope through -the darkness of this domestic oppression; you will not listen to the -cries of the helpless, but sit supinely down and argue upon the "right" -of the thing. There were kind and tender-hearted Jews, who felt that the -crucifixion of the Messiah was a fearful crime, yet fear sealed their -lips. And are there not now time-serving men, who are worthy and capable -of better things, but from motives of policy will offer no word against -this barbarous system of slavery? Oh, show me the men, like that little -handful at the North, who are willing to forfeit everything for the -maintenance of human justice and mercy. Blessed apostles, near to the -mount of God! your lips have been touched with the flame of a new -Pentecost, and ye speak as never men spake before! Who that listens to -the words of Parker, Sumner, and Seward, can believe them other than -inspired? Theirs is no ordinary gift of speech; it burns and blazes with -a mighty power! Cold must be the ear that hears them unmoved; and hard -the heart that throbs not in unison with their noble and earnest -expressions! Often have I paused in this little book, to render a feeble -tribute to these great reformers. It may be thought out of place, yet I -cannot repress the desire to speak my voluntary gratitude, and, in the -name of all my scattered race, thank them for the noble efforts they -have made in our behalf! - -All the malignity of my nature was aroused against Miss Bradly, when I -heard her voice loudest in denunciation against Lindy. - -As I was passing through the room, I could catch fragments of -conversation anything but pleasing to the ear of a slave; but I had to -listen in meekness, letting not even a working muscle betray my dissent. -They were orthodox, and would not tolerate even from an equal a word -contrary to their views. - -I did not venture to ask the doctor what he thought of Aunt Polly, for -that would have been called impudent familiarity, punishable with -whipping at the "post;" but when I met young master in the entry, I -learned from him that the case was one of hopeless insanity. -Blood-letting, &c., had been resorted to, but with no effect. The doctor -gave it as his opinion that the case was "without remedy." Not knowing -that young master differed from his father and sisters, the doctor had, -in his jocose and unfeeling way, suggested that it was not much -difference; the old thing was of but little value; she was old and -worn-out. To all this young master made no other reply than a fixed look -from his meek eyes--a look which the doctor could not understand; for -the idea of sympathy with or pity for a slave would have struck him as -being a thing existing only in the bosom of a fanatical abolitionist, -whose conviction would not permit him to cross the line of Mason and -Dixon. Ah! little knew he (the coarse doctor) what a large heart full of -human charities had grown within; nay, was indigenous to this -south-western latitude. I believe, yes have reason to know, that the -pure sentiment of abolition is one that is near and dear to the heart of -many a Kentuckian; even those who are themselves the hereditary holders -of slaves are, in many instances, the most opposed to the system. This -sentiment is, perhaps, more largely developed in, and more openly -expressed by, the females of the State; and this is accounted for from -the fact that to be suspected of abolition tendencies is at once the -plague-mark whereby a man is ever after considered unfit for public -trust or political honor. It is the great question, the strong -conservative element of society. To some extent it likewise taboos, in -social circles, the woman who openly expresses such sentiments; though -as she has no popular interests to stake, in many cases her voice will -be on the side of right, not might. - -In later years I remember to have overheard a colloquy between a lady -and gentleman (both slaveholders) in Kentucky. The gentleman had vast -possessions, about one-third of which consisted of slaves. The lady's -entire wealth was in six negroes, some of them under the age of ten. -They were hired out at the highest market prices, and by the proceeds -she was supported. She had been raised in a strongly conservative -community; nay, her own family were (to use a Kentuckyism) the "pick -and choose" of the pro-slavery party. Some of them had been considered -the able vindicators of the "system;" yet she, despite the force of -education and the influence of domestic training, had broken away from -old trammels and leash-strings, and was, both in thought and expression, -a bold, ingrain abolitionist. She defied the lions in their chosen dens. -On the occasion of this conversation, I heard her say that she could not -remain happy whilst she detained in bondage those creatures who could -claim, under the Constitution, alike with her, their freedom; and so -soon as she attained her majority, she intended to liberate them. "But," -said she--and I shall never forget the mournful look of her dark -eye--"the statute of the State will not allow them to remain here ten -days after liberation; and one of these men has a wife (to whom he is -much attached), who is a slave to a master that will neither free her -nor sell her. Now, this poor captive husband would rather remain in -slavery to me, than be parted from his wife; and here is the point upon -which I always stand. I wish to be humane and just to him; and yet rid -myself from the horrid crime to which, from the accident of inheritance, -I have become accessory." The gentleman, who seemed touched by the -heroism of the girl, was beguiled into a candid acknowledgment of his -own sentiments; and freely declared to her that, if it were not for his -political aspirations, he would openly free every slave he owned, and -relieve his conscience from the weight of the "perilous stuff" that so -oppressed it. "But," said he, "were I to do it in Kentucky, I should be -politically dead. It would, besides, strike a blow at my legal practice, -and then what could I do? 'Othello's occupation would be gone.' Of what -avail, then, would be my 'quiddits, quillets; my cases, tenures and my -tricks?' I, who am high in political favor, should live to read my -shame. I, who now 'tower in my pride of place, should, by some mousing -owl, be hawked at and killed.' No, I must burden my conscience yet a -little longer." - -The lady, with all a young girl's naïve and beautiful enthusiasm, -besought him to disregard popular praise and worldly distinction. "Seek -first," said she, "the kingdom of heaven, and all things else shall be -given you;" but the gentleman had grown hard in this world's devious -wiles. He preferred throwing off his allegiance to Providence, and, -single-handed and alone, making his fate. Talk to me of your thrifty -men, your popular characters, and I instantly know that you mean a -cringing, parasitical server of the populace; one who sinks soul, spirit -and manly independence for the mere garments that cover his perishable -body, and to whom the empty plaudits of the unthinking crowd are better -music than the thankful prayer of suffering humanity. Let such an one, I -say, have his full measure of the "clapping of hands," let him hear it -all the while; for he cannot see the frown that darkens the brow of the -guardian angel, who, with a sigh, records his guilt. Go on, thou worldly -Pharisee, but the day _will come_, when the lowly shall be exalted. -Trust and wait we longer. Oh, ye who "know the right, and yet the wrong -pursue," a fearful reckoning will be yours. - -But young master was not of this sort; I felt that his lips were closed -from other and higher motives. If it had been of any avail, no matter -what the cost to himself, he would have spoken. His soul knew but one -sentiment, and that was "love to God and good will to men on earth." And -now, as he entered the room where the doctor and the ladies were seated, -and listened to their heartless conversation, he planted himself firmly -in their midst, saying: - -"Sisters, the time has come when I _must_ speak. Patiently have I lived -beneath this my father's roof, and witnessed, without uttering one word, -scenes at which my whole soul revolted; I have heard that which has -driven me from your side. On my bare knees, in the gloom of the forest, -I have besought God to soften your hearts. I have asked that the dew of -mercy might descend upon the hoary head of my father, and that womanly -gentleness might visit your obdurate hearts. I have felt that I could -give my life up a sacrifice to obtain this; but my unworthy prayers have -not yet been answered. In vain, in vain, I have hoped to see a change -in you. Are you women or fiends? How can you persecute, to the death, -poor, ignorant creatures, whose only fault is a black skin? How can you -inhumanly beat those who have no protectors but you? Reverse the case, -and take upon yourselves their condition; how would you act? Could you -bear silently the constant "wear and tear" of body, the perpetual -imprisonment of the soul? Could you surrender yourselves entirely to the -keeping of another, and that other your primal foe--one who for ages has -had his arm uplifted against your race? Suppose you every day witnessed -a board groaning with luxuries (the result of your labor) devoured by -your persecutors, whilst you barely got the crumbs; your owners dressed -in purple and fine linen, whilst you wore the coarsest material, though -all their luxury was the product of your exertion; what think you would -be right for you to do? Or suppose I, whilst lingering at the little -spring, should be stolen off, gagged and taken to Algiers, kept there in -servitude, compelled to the most drudging labor; poorly clad and -scantily fed whilst my master lived like a prince; kept in constant -terror of the lash; punished severely for every venial offence, and my -poor heart more lacerated than my body;--what would you think of me, if -a man were to tell me that, with his assistance, I could make my escape -to a land of liberty, where my rights would be recognized, and my person -safe from violence; I say what would you think, if I were to decline, -and to say I preferred to remain with the Algerines?" He paused, but -none replied. With eyes wonderingly fixed upon him, the group remained -silent. - -"You are silent all," he continued, "for conviction, like a swift arrow, -has struck your souls. Oh, God!" and he raised his eyes upward, "out of -the mouths of babes and sucklings let wisdom, holiness and truth -proceed. Touch their flinty hearts, and let the spark of grace be -emitted! Oh, sisters, know ye not that this Algerine captivity that I -have painted, is but a poor picture of the daily martyrdom which our -slaves endure? Look on that old woman, who, by a brutal blow from our -father, has been deprived of her reason. Look at that little haggard -orphan, Amy, who is the kicked football of you all. Look at the poor men -whom we have brutalized and degraded. Think of Lindy, driven by frenzy -to brave the passage to an unknown country rather than longer endure -what we have put upon her. Gaze, till your eyes are bleared, upon that -whipping-post, which rises upon our plantation; it is wet, even now, -with the blood that has gushed from innocent flesh. Look at the ill-fed, -ill-clothed creatures that live among us; and think they have immortal -souls, which we have tried to put out. Oh, ponder well upon these -things, and let this poor, wretched girl, who has sallied forth, let her -go, I say, to whatever land she wishes, and strive to forget the horrors -that haunted her here." - -Again he paused, but none of them durst reply. Inspired by their -silence, he went on: - -"And from you, Miss Bradly, I had expected better things. You were -reared in a State where the brutality of the slave system is not -tolerated. Your early education, your home influences, were all against -it. Why and how can your womanly heart turn away from its true -instincts? Is it for you, a Northerner and a woman, to put up your voice -in defence of slavery? Oh, shame! triple-dyed shame, should stain your -cheeks! Well may my sisters argue for slavery, when you, their teacher, -aid and abet them. Could you not have instilled better things into their -minds? I know full well that your heart and mind are against slavery; -but for the ease of living in our midst, enjoying our bounty, and -receiving our money, you will silence your soul and forfeit your -principles. Yea, for a salary, you will pander to this horrid crime. -Judas, for thirty pieces of silver, sold the Redeemer of the world; but -what remorse followed the dastard act! You will yet live to curse the -hour of your infamy. You might have done good. Upon the waxen minds of -these girls you might have written noble things, but you would not." - -I watched Miss Bradly closely whilst he was speaking. She turned white -as a sheet. Her countenance bespoke the convicted woman. Not an eye -rested upon her but read the truth. Starting up at length from her -chair, Miss Jane shouted out, in a theatrical way, - -"Treason! treason in our own household, and from one of our own number! -And so, Mr. John, you are the abolitionist that has sown dissension and -discontent among our domestics. We have thought you simple; but I -discover, sir, you are more knave than fool. Father shall know of this, -and take steps to arrest this treason." - -"As you please, sister Jane; you can make what report you please, only -speak the truth." - -At this she flew toward him, and, catching him by the collar, slapped -his cheeks severely. - -"Right well done," said a clear, manly voice; and, looking up, I saw Mr. -Worth standing in the open door. "I have been knocking," said he, "for -full five minutes; but I am not surprised that you did not hear me, for -the strong speech to which I have listened had force enough to overpower -the sound of a thunder-storm." - -Miss Jane recoiled a few steps, and the deepest crimson dyed her cheeks. -She made great pretensions to refinement, and could not bear, now, that -a gentleman (even though an abolitionist) should see her striking her -brother. Miss Tildy assumed the look of injured innocence, and smilingly -invited Mr. Worth to take a seat. - -"Do not be annoyed by what you have seen. Jane is not passionate; but -the boy was rude to her, and deserved a reproof." - -Without making a reply, but, with his eye fixed on young master, Mr. -Worth took the offered seat. Miss Bradly, with her face buried in her -hands, moved not; and the doctor sat playing with his half-filled glass -of wine; but young master remained standing, his eye flashing strangely, -and a bright crimson spot glowing on either cheek. He seemed to take no -note of the entrance of Mr. Worth, or in fact any of the group. There he -stood, with his golden locks falling over his white brow; and calm -serenity resting like a sunbeam on his face. Very majestic and imposing -was that youthful presence. High determination and everlasting truth -were written upon his face. With one look and a murmured "Father forgive -them, for they know not what they do," he turned away. - -"Stop, stop, my brave boy," cried Mr. Worth, "stop, and let me look upon -you. Had the South but one voice, and that one yours, this country would -soon be clear of its great dishonor." - -To this young master made no spoken reply; but the clear smile that lit -his countenance expressed his thanks; and seeing that Mr. Worth was -resolved to detain him, he said, - -"Let me go, good sir, for now I feel that I need the woods," and soon -his figure was gliding along his well-beloved path, in the direction of -the spring. Who shall say that solitary communing with Nature unfits the -soul for active life? True, indeed, it does unfit it for baseness, -sordid dealings, and low detraction, by lifting it from its low -condition, and sending it out in a broad excursiveness. - -Here, in the case of young master, was a sweet and glowing flower that -had blossomed in the wilds, and been nursed by nature only. The country -air had fanned into bloom the bud of virtue and the beauty of highest -truth. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -THE RETURN OF THE HUNTERS FLUSHED WITH SUCCESS--MR. PETERKIN'S VAGARY. - - -As young Master strode away, Misses Jane and Tildy regarded each other -in silent wonder. At length the latter, who caught the cue from her -sister, burst forth in a violent laugh, that I can define only by -calling it a romping laugh, so full of forced mirth. Miss Jane took up -the echo, and the house resounded with their assumed merriment. No one -else, however, seemed to take the infection; and they had the fun all to -themselves. - -"Well, Ann," said Miss Tildy, putting on a quizzical air, "I suppose you -have been very much edified by your young master's explosion of -philanthropy and good-will toward you darkies." - -Too well I knew my position to make an answer; so there I stood, silent -and submissive. - -"Oh, yes, I suppose this young renegade has delivered abolition lectures -in the kitchen hall, to his 'dearly belubed' brederen ob de colored -race," added Miss Matilda, intending to be vastly witty. - -"I think we had better send him on to an Anti-slavery convention, and -give him a seat 'twixt Lucy Stone and Fred Douglas. Wouldn't his white -complexion contrast well with that of the sable orator?" and this Miss -Jane designed should be exceedingly pungent. - -Still no one answered. Mr. Worth's face wore a troubled expression; the -doctor still played with his wine-glass; and Miss Bradly's face was -buried deeper in her hands. - -"Suppose father had been here; what do you think he would have said?" -asked Miss Jane. - -This, no doubt, recalled Dr. Mandy to the fact that Mr. Peterkin's -patronage was well worth retaining, so he must speak _now_. - -"Oh, your father, Miss Jane, is such a sensible man, that he would -consider it only the freak of an imprudent beardless boy." - -"Is, then," I asked myself, "all expressed humanity but idle gibberish? -Is it only beardless boys who can feel for suffering slaves? Is all -noble philanthropy voted vapid by sober, serious, reflecting manhood? If -so, farewell hope, and welcome despair!" I looked at Mr. Worth; but his -face was rigid, and a snowy pallor overspread his gentle features. He -was young, and this was his first visit to Kentucky. In his home at the -North he had heard many stories of the manner in which slavery was -conducted in the West and South; but the stories, softened by distance, -had reached him in a mild form, consequently he was unprepared for what -he had witnessed since his arrival in Kentucky. He had, though desiring -liberty alike for all, both white and black, looked upon the system as -an unjust and oppressive one, but he had no thought that it existed in -the atrocious and cruel form which fact, not report, had now revealed to -him. His whole soul shuddered and shrivelled at what he saw. He -marvelled how the skies could be so blue and beautiful; how the flowers -could spring so lavishly, and the rivers roll so majestically, and the -stars burn so brightly over a land dyed with such horrible crimes. - -"Father will not deal very leniently with this boy's follies; he will -teach Johnny that there's more virtue in honoring a father, than in -equalizing himself with negroes." Here Miss Jane tossed her head -defiantly. - -Just then a loud noise was heard from the avenue, and, looking out the -window, we descried the hunters returning crowned with exultation, for, -alas! poor Lindy had been found, and there, handcuffed, she marched -between a guard of Jake on the one side, and Dan on the other. There -were marks of blood on her brow, and her dress was here and there -stained. Cool as was the day, great drops of perspiration rolled off her -face. With her head bowed low on her breast, she walked on amid the -ribald jests of her persecutors. - -"Well, we has cotch dis 'ere runaway gal, and de way we did chase her -down is nuffen to nobody," said old Nace, who had led the troop. "I -tells you it jist takes dis here nigger and his hounds to tree the -runaway. I reckons, Miss Lindy, you'll not be fur trying ob it agin." - -"No, dat hab fixed her," replied the obsequious Jake. Dan laughed -heartily, showing his stout teeth. - -"Now, Masser," said Nace, as taking off his remnant of a hat he scraped -his foot back, and grinned terribly, "dis ar' nigger, if you pleases, -sar, would like to hab a leetle drap ob de critter dat you promise to -him." - -"Oh, yes, you black rascal, you wants some ob my fust-rate whiskey, does -you? Wal, I 'spects, as you treed dat ar' d----d nigger-wench, you -desarves a drap or so." - -"Why, yes, Masser, you see as how I did do my best for to ketch her, and -I is right much tired wid de run. You sees dese old legs is gettin' -right stiff; dese jints ain't limber like Jake and Dan's dar, yet I -tink, Masser, I did de bestest, an' I ought to hab a leetle drap de -most, please, sar." - -"Come, 'long, come 'long, boys, arter we stores dis gal away I'll gib -you yer dram." - -There had stood poor Lindy, never once looking up, crestfallen, broken -in heart, and bruised in body, awaiting a painful punishment, scarce -hoping to escape with life and limb. Striking her a blow with his huge -riding-whip, Mr. Peterkin shouted, "off with you to the lock-up!" - -Now, that which was technically termed the "lock-up," was an old, strong -building, which had once been used as a smoke-house, but since the -erection of a new one, was employed for the very noble purpose of -confining negroes. It was a dark, damp place, without a window, and but -one low door, through which to enter. In this wretched place, bound and -manacled, the poor fugitive was thrust. - -"There, you may run off if you ken," said Mr. Peterkin, as he drew the -rough door to, and fastened on the padlock with the dignified air of a -regularly-installed jailer. "Now, boys, come 'long and git the liquor." - -This pleasing announcement seemed to give an additional impetus to the -spirits of the servants, and, with many a "ha, ha, ha," they followed -their master. - -"Well, father," said Miss Jane, whilst she stood beside Mr. Peterkin, -who was accurately measuring out a certain quantity of whiskey to the -three smiling slaves, who stood holding their tin cups to receive it, "I -am glad you succeeded in arresting that audacious runaway. Where did you -find her? Who was with her? How did she behave? Oh, tell me all about -the adventure; it really does seem funny that such a thing should have -occurred in our family; and now that the wretch has been caught, I can -afford to laugh at it." - -"Wal," answered Mr. Peterkin, as he replaced the cork in the brown jug, -and proceeded to lock it up in his private closet, "you does ax the most -questions in one breath of any gal I ever seed in all my life. Why, I -haint bin in the house five minutes, and you has put more questions to -me than a Philadelphy lawyer could answer. 'Pon my soul, Jane, you is a -fast 'un." - -"Never mind my fastness, father, but tell me what I asked." - -"Wal, whar is I to begin? You axed whar Lindy was found? These dogs -hunted her to Mr. Farland's barn. Thar they 'gan to smell and snort -round and cut up all sorts of capers, and old Nace clumb up to the hay -loft, and sung out, in a loud voice, 'Here she am, here she am.' Then I -hearn a mighty scrambling and shufflin' up dar, so I jist springed up -arter Nace, and thar was the gal, actually fightin' with Nace, who -wanted to fetch her right down to the ground whar we was a waitin'. I -tells you, now, one right good lick from my powder-horn fetched her all -right. She soon seen it was no kind of use to be opposin' of us, and so -she jist sot down right willin'. I then fetched several good licks, and -she knowed how to do, kase, when I seed I had drawed the blood, I didn't -kere to beat her any more. So I ordered her to git down outen that ar' -loft quicker than she got up. Then we bound her hands, and driv her long -through the woods like a bull. I tells you she was mighty-much 'umbled -and shamed; every now and thin she'd blubber out a cryin', but my whup -soon shot up her howlin'." - -"I've a great notion to go," said Jane, "and torment her a little more, -the impudent hussy! I wonder if she thinks we will ever take her back to -live with us. She has lost a good home, for she shall not come here any -more. I want you to sell her, father, and at the highest price, to a -regular trader." - -"That will I do, and there is a trader in this very neighborhood now. -I'll ride over this arternoon and make 'rangements with him fur her -sale. But come, Jane, I is powerful hungry; can't you git me something -to eat?" - -"But, father, I have a word to say with you in private, draw near me." - -"What ails you now, gals?" he said, as Miss Tildy joined them, with a -perplexed expression of countenance. As he drew close to them I heard -Miss Jane say, through her clenched teeth, in a hissing tone: - -"Old Polly is insane; lost her reason from that blow which you gave her. -Do you think they could indict you?" - -"Who, in the name of h--l, can say that I struck her? Who saw it? No, -I'd like fur to see the white man that would dar present Jeems Peterkin -afore the Grand Jury, and a nigger darn't think of sich a thing, kase as -how thar testimony ain't no count." - -"Then we are safe," both of the ladies simultaneously cried. - -"But whar is that d----d old hussy? She ain't crazy, only 'possuming so -as to shuffle outen the work. Let me git to her once, and I'll be bound -she will step as smart as ever. One shake of the old cowhide will make -her jump and talk as sensible as iver she did." - -"'Tisn't worth while, father, going near her. I tell you, Doctor Mandy -says she is a confirmed lunatic." - -"I tells yer I knows her constitution better 'an any of yer, doctors, -and all; and this here cowhide is allers the best medicine fur niggers; -they ain't like the white folks, no how nor ways." - -So saying he, followed by his daughters, went to the cabin where poor -Aunt Polly was sitting, in all the touching simplicity of second -childhood, playing with some bits of ribbon, bright-colored calico, and -flashy artificial flowers. Looking up with a vacant stare at the group -she spoke not, but, slowly shaking her head in an imbecile way, -murmured: - -"These are putty, but yer mustn't take 'em frum me; dese am all dat dis -ole nigger hab got, dese here am fadder, mudder, hustbund, an chile. Lit -me keep 'em." - -"You old fool, what's you 'bout, gwine on at this here rate? Don't you -know I is yer master, and will beat the very life outen yer, if yer -don't git up right at once?" - -"Now who is yer? Sure now, an' dis old nigger doesn't know yer. Yer is a -great big man, dat looks so cross and bad at me. I wish yer would go on -'bout yer own bisness, and be a lettin' me 'lone. I ain't a troublin' of -yer, no way." - -"You ain't, arnt yer, you old fool? but I'll give yer a drap of medicine -that'll take the craze outen yer, and make yer know who yer master is. -How does you like that, and this, and this?" and, suiting the action to -the word, he dealt her blow after blow, in the most ferocious manner. -Her shoulders were covered with blood that gushed from the torn flesh. A -low howl (it could only be called a howl) burst from her throat, and -flinging up her withered hands, she cried, "Oh, good Lord Jesus, come -and help thy poor old servant, now in dis her sore time ob trouble." - -"The Lord Jesus won't hear sich old nigger wretches as you," said Mr. -Peterkin. - -"Oh, yes, de Lord Jesus will. He 'peared to me but a leetle bit ago, -and he was all dressed in white, wid a gold crown upon His head, and His -face war far and putty like young Masser's, only it seemed to be heap -brighter, and he smiled at dis poor old sufferin' nigger; and den -'peared like a low, little voice 'way down to de bottom ob my heart say, -Polly, be ob good cheer, de Lord Jesus is comin' to take you home. He no -care weder yer skin is white or black. He is gwine fur to make yer happy -in de next world. Oh, den me feel so good, me no more care for -anything." - -"All of this is a crazy fancy," said Dr. Mandy, who stepped into the -cabin; but taking hold of Polly's wrist, and holding his fingers over -her pulse, his countenance changed. "She has excessive fever, and a -strong flow of blood to the brain. She cannot live long. Put her -instantly to bed, and let me apply leeches." - -"Do yer charge extry for leeching, doctor?" asked Mr. Peterkin. - -"Oh, yes, sir, but it is not much consideration, as you are one of my -best customers." - -"I don't want to run any useless expense 'bout the old 'oman. You see -she has served my family a good many years." - -"And you are for that reason much attached to her," interposed the -doctor. - -"Not a bit of it, sir. I never was 'tached to a nigger. Even when I was -a lad I had no fancy fur 'em, not even yer bright yallow wenches; and I -ain't gwine fur to spend money on that old nigger, unless you cure her, -and make her able to work and pay fur the money that's bin laid out fur -her." - -"I can't promise to do that; neither am I certain that the leeches will -do her any material good, but they will assuredly serve to mitigate her -sufferings, by decreasing the fever, which now rages so high." - -"I don' care a cuss for that. Taint no use then of trying the leeches. -If she be gwine to die, why let her do it in the cheapest way." - -Saying this, he went off with the young ladies, the doctor following in -the wake. As he was passing through the door-way, I caught him by the -skirts of his coat. Turning suddenly round, he saw who it was, and drew -within the cabin. - -"Doctor," and I spoke with great timidity, "is she so ill? Will she, -must she die? Please try the leeches. Here," and I drew from an old -hiding-place in the wall the blessed half-dollar which Master Eddy had -given me as a keepsake. For years it had lain silently there, treasured -more fondly than Egyptian amulet or Orient gem. On some rare holiday I -had drawn it from its concealment to gloat over it with all a miser's -pride. I did not value it for the simple worth of the coin, for I had -sense enough to know that its actual value was but slight; yet what a -wealth of memories it called up! It brought _back_ the times when _I had -a mother_; when, as a happy, careless child (though a slave), I wandered -through the wild greenwood; where I ranged free as a bird, ere the -burden of a blow had been laid upon my shoulders; and when my young -master and mistress sometimes bestowed kind words upon me. The fair -locks and mild eyes of the latter gleamed upon me with dream-like -beauty. The kind, tearful face of Master Eddy, his gentle words on that -last most dreadful day that bounded and closed the last chapter of happy -childhood--all these things were recalled by the sight of this simple -little half-dollar! And now I was going to part with it. What a struggle -it was! I couldn't do it. No, I couldn't do it. It was the one _silver_ -link between me and remembered joy. To part with it would be to wipe out -the _bright_ days of my life. It would be sacrilege, in justice, a -wrong; no, I replaced it in the old faded rag (in which it had been -wrapped for years), and closed my hand convulsively over it. There stood -the doctor! He had caught sight of the gleaming coin, and (small as it -was) his cupidity was excited, and when he saw my hand closed over the -shining treasure, the smile fled from his face, and he said: - -"Girl, for what purpose did you detain me? My time is precious. I have -other patients to visit this morning, and cannot be kept here longer!" - -"Oh, doctor, try the leeches." - -"Your Master says he won't pay for them." - -"But for the sake of charity, for the value of human life, you will do -it without pay." - -"Will I, though? Trust me for that--and who will feed my wife and -children in the meantime. I can't be doctoring every old sick nigger -gratuitously. Her old fagged-out frame ain't worth the waste of my -leeches. I thought you were going to pay for it; but you see a nigger is -a nigger the world over. They are too stingy to do anything for one of -their own tribe." - -"But this money is a keepsake, a parting-gift from my young Master, who -gave it to me years ago, when I was sold. I prize it because of the -recollections which it calls up." - -"A sentimental nigger! Well, _that is_ something new; but if you cared -for that old woman's life you wouldn't hesitate," and, so saying, he -walked away. I looked upon poor Aunt Polly, and I fancied there was a -rebuking light in her feeble eye; and her withered hands seemed -stretched out to ask the help which I cruelly withheld. - -And shall I desert her who has suffered so deeply for me? Well may she -reproach me with that "piteous action"--me, who for a romantic and -fanciful feeling withhold the means of saving her life. Oh, how I blamed -myself! How wicked and selfish I thought my heart. - -"Doctor! come back, doctor! here is the money," I cried. - -He had stood but a few steps without the cabin door, doubtless expecting -this change in my sentiments. - -"You have done well, Ann, to deny yourself, and make some effort to save -the life of the old woman. You see I would have done it for nothing; but -the leeches cost me money. It is inconvenient to get them, and I have a -family, a very helpless one, to support, and you know it won't do to -neglect them, lest I be worse than a heathen and infidel. In your case, -my good girl, the case is quite different, for _niggers_ are taken care -of and supported by their Masters, and any little change that you may -have is an extra, for which you have no particular need." - -An "extra" indeed it was, and a very rare one. One that had come but -once in my life, and, God be praised, it afforded me an opportunity of -doing the good Samaritan's work! I had seen how the Levite and the -priest had neglected the wounded woman, and with this little coin I -could do a noble deed; but as to my being well-cared and provided for, I -thought the doctor had shot wide of his mark. I was surprised at the -tone of easy familiarity which he assumed toward me; but this was -explained by the fact that he was what is commonly called a jolly -fellow, and had been pretty freely indulging in the "joyful glass." -Besides, I was going to pay him; then, maybe, he felt a little ashamed -of his avarice, and sought by familiar tone and manner to beguile me, -and satisfy his conscience. - -His "medical bags" had been left in the entry, for Miss Jane, who -delighted in the Lubin-perfumed extracts, would tolerate nothing less -sweet-scented, and by her prohibitory fiat, the "bags" were denied -admittance to the house. Once, when the doctor was suddenly called to -see a white member of the family, he, either through forgetfulness or -obstinacy, violated the order, and Miss Jane had every carpet taken up -and shaken, and the floor scoured, for the odor seemed to haunt her for -weeks. Since then he had rigidly adhered to the rule; I suspect, with -many secret maledictions upon the acuteness of her olfactories. - -Now he requested me to bring the bags to him, I found them, as I had -expected, sitting in the very spot where he usually placed them. - -"There they are, doctor, now be quick. Cure her, help her, do anything, -but let her not die whilst this money can purchase her life, or afford -her ease." - -He took the coin from my hand, surveyed it for a moment, a thing that I -considered very cruel, for, all the while, the victim was suffering -uncared for, unattended to. - -"It is but a small piece, doctor, but it is my all; if I had more, you -should have it, but now please be quick in the application of your -remedy." - -"This money will pay but for a few leeches, not enough to do the -contusion much good. You see there is a great deal of diseased blood -collected at the left temple; but I'll be charitable and throw in a few -leeches, for which you can pay me at some other time, when you happen to -have money." - -"Certainly, doctor, I will give you _all_ that you demand as fast as I -get it." - -After a little scarification he applied the leeches, twelve in number, -little, sleek, sharp, needle-pointed, oily-looking things. Quickly, as -if starved, the tiny vampires commenced their work of blood-sucking. - -"She bore to be scarified better than any subject I ever saw. Not a -writhe or wince," remarked the doctor. - -Ah, thought I, she has endured too much pain to tremble at a needle -prick like that. She, whose body had bled at every pore, whose skin had -been torn and mangled until it bore a thousand scars, could surely bear, -without writhing, a pain so delicate as that. Though I thought thus, I -said not a word; for (to me) the worst part of our slavery is that we -are not allowed to speak our opinion on any subject. We are to be mutes, -save when it suits our owners to let us answer in words obsequious -enough to please their greedy love of authority. - -Silently I stood watching the leeches. From the loss of blood, Aunt -Polly seemed somewhat exhausted, and was soon soundly, sweetly sleeping. - -"Let her sleep," said the doctor, as he removed the leeches and replaced -them in a little stone vase, "when she wakes she will probably be -better, and you will then owe me one dollar and a half, as the bill is -two dollars. It would have been more, but I allow part to go for -charity." So saying he left the cabin and returned to the house. Oh, -most noble Christian "charity"! Is this the blessed quality that is -destined to "cover a multitude of sins"? He would not even leech a -half-dying woman without a pecuniary reward. Oh, far advanced whites, -fast growing in grace and ripening in holiness! - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -THE ESSAY OF WIT--YOUNG ABOLITIONIST--HIS INFLUENCE--A NIGHT AT THE DOOR -OF THE "LOCK-UP." - - -After wiping the fresh blood-stains (produced by the severe beating of -Mr. Peterkin) from Aunt Polly's shoulders, and binding up her brow to -conceal the wounds made by the leeching process, I tenderly spread the -old coverlet over her form, and then turned away from her to go about my -usual avocations. - -The doctor was just making his adieux, and the ladies had gathered round -him in quite a social and sportive way. Misses Jane and Tildy were -playfully disputing which one should take possession of his heart and -hand, in the event of Mrs. Mandy's sudden demise. All this merriment and -light-heartedness was exhibited, when but a few rods from them a poor, -old, faithful creature lay in the agonies of a torturing death, and a -young girl, who had striven for her liberty, and tried to achieve it at -a perilous risk, had just been bound, hand and foot, and cast into outer -darkness! Oh, this was a strange meeting of the extremes. What varied -colors the glass of life can show! - -At length, with many funny speeches, and promises very ridiculous, the -doctor tore himself away from the chatty group. - -Passing in and out of the house, through the hall or in the parlor, as -my business required, I saw Mr. Worth and Miss Bradly sitting quietly -and moodily apart, whilst, occasionally, Miss Tildy would flash out with -a coarse joke, or Miss Jane would speculate upon the feelings of Lindy, -in her present helpless and gloomy confinement. - -"I reckon she does not relish Canada about this time." - -"No; let us ask her _candid_ opinion of it," said Miss Tildy, who -considered herself _the wit_ of the family, and this last speech she -regarded as quite an extraordinary flash. - -"That's very good, Till," said her patronizing sister, "but you are -always witty." - -"Now, sister, ain't you ashamed to flatter me so?" and with the most -Laura Matilda-ish air, she turned her head aside and tried to blush. - -I could read, from his clear, manly glance, that Mr. Worth was sick at -heart and goaded to anguish by what he saw and heard; yet, like many -another noble man, he sat in silent endurance. Miss Jane caught the idea -of his gloom, and, with a good deal of sly, vulpine malice, determined -to annoy him. She had not for him, as Miss Tildy had, a personal -admiration; so, by way of vexing him, as well as showing off her -smartness, she asked: - -"Till, is there much Worth in Abolitionism?" - -"I don't know, but there is a _Robin_ in it." This she thought a capital -repartee. - -"Bravo! bravo, Till! who can equal you? You are the wittiest girl in -town or country." - -"Wit is a precious gift," said Mr. Worth, as he satirically elevated his -brows. - -"Indeed is it," replied Miss Tildy, "but I am not conscious of its -possession." Of course she expected he would gainsay her; but, as he was -silent, her cheeks blazed like a peony. - -"What makes Miss Bradly so quiet and seemingly lachrymose? I do believe -Johnny's Abolition lecture has given her the blues." - -"Not the lecture, but the necessity for the lecture," put in Mr. Worth. - -"What's that? what's that 'bout Aberlitionists?" exclaimed Mr. Peterkin, -as he rushed into the room. "Is there one of 'em here? Let me know it, -and my roof shan't shelter the rascal. Whar is he?" - -I looked toward Mr. Worth, for I feared that, on an occasion like this, -his principles would fail as Miss Bradly's had; but the fear was -quickly dissipated, as he replied in a manly tone: - -"I, a vindicator of the anti-slavery policy, and a denouncer of the -slave system, stand before you, and declare myself proud of my -sentiments." - -"You? ha! ha! ha! ha! that's too ridiculous; a mere boy; a stripling, no -bigger than my arm. I'd not disgrace my manhood with a fight with the -like of yer." - -"So thought Goliath when David met him in warfare; but witness the -sequel, and then say if the battle is always to the strong, or the -victory with the proud. Might is not always right. I ask to be heard for -my cause. Stripling as you call me, I am yet able to vindicate my -abolition principles upon other and higher ground than mere brute -force." - -"Oh, yes; you has larnt, I s'pose, to talk. That's all them windy -Aberlitionists ken do; they berate and talk, but they can't act." - -A contemptuous smile played over the face of Mr. Worth, but he did not -deign to answer with words. - -"Do you know, pa, that Johnny is an Abolitionist?" asked Miss Jane. - -"What! John Peterkin? my son John?" - -"The same," and Miss Jane bowed most significantly. - -"Well, that's funny enuff; but I'll soon bring it outen him. He's a -quiet lad; not much sperrit, and I guess he's hearn some 'cock and bull -story' 'bout freedom and equality. All smart boys of his age is apt to -feel that way, but he'll come outen it. It's all bekase he has hearn too -many Fourth of July speeches; but I don't fear fur him, he is sure to -come outen it. The very idee of my son's being an Aberlitionist is too -funny." - -"Funny is it, father, for your child to love mercy, and deal justly, -even with the lowliest?" As he said this, young master stood in the -doorway. He looked paler and even more spiritual than was his wont. - -Mr. Peterkin sat for full five minutes, gazing at the boy; and, strange -to say, made no reply, but strode away from the room. - -Miss Jane and Tildy regarded each other with evident surprise. They had -expected a violent outburst, and thus to see their father tamed and -subdued by the word and glance of their boy-brother, astonished them not -a little. - -Miss Tildy turned toward young master, and said, in what was meant for a -most caustic tone, - -"You are an embryo Van Amburgh, thus to tame the lion's rage." - -"But you, Tildy, are too vulpine to be fascinated even by the glance of -Van Amburgh himself." - -"Well, now, Johnny, you are getting impertinent as well as spicy." - -"Pertinent, you mean," said Mr. Worth. Miss Tildy would not look angry -at _him_; for she was besieging the fortress of his affections, and she -deemed kind measures the most advantageous. - -Were I to narrate most accurately the conversation that followed, the -repartees that flashed from the lips of some, and the anger that burned -blue in the faces of others, I should only amuse the reader, or what is -more likely, weary him. - -I will simply mention that, after a few hours' sojourn, Mr. Worth took -his departure, not without first having a long conversation, in a -private part of the garden, with young master. Miss Bradly retired to -the young ladies' room (for they would not allow her to leave the -house), under pretext of headache. Often, as I passed in and out to ask -her if she needed anything, I found her weeping bitterly. Late in the -evening, about eight o'clock, Mr. Peterkin returned; throwing the reins -of his horse to Nace, he exclaimed: - -"Well, I've made a good bargain of it; I've sold Lindy to a trader for -one thousand dollars--that is, if she answers the description which I -gave of her. He is comin' in the mornin' to look at her; and, with a -little riggin' up, I think she'll 'pear a rale good-lookin' wench." - -When I went into the house to prepare some supper for Mr. Peterkin (the -family tea had been despatched two hours before), he was in an excellent -humor, well pleased, no doubt, with his good trade. - -"Now, Ann, be brisk and smart, or you might find yourself in the -trader's hands afore long. Likely yellow gals like you sells mighty -well; and if you doesn't behave well you is a goner." - -"Down the river" was not terrible to me, nor did I dread being "sold;" -yet one thing I did fear, and that was separation from young master. In -the last few days he had become to me everything I could respect; nay, I -loved him. Not that it was in his power to do me any signal act of good. -He could not soften the severity of his father and sisters toward me; -yet one thing he could and did do, he spoke an occasional kind, hopeful -word to me. Those whose hearts are fed upon kindness and love, can -little understand how dear to the lonely, destitute soul, is one word of -friendliness. We, to whom the husks are flung with an unfeeling tone, -appreciate as manna from heaven the word of gentleness; and now I -thought if I were to leave young master _my soul would die_. Had not his -blessed smile elevated and inspired my sinking spirit, and his sweet -tone softened my over-taxed heart? Oh, blessed one! even now I think of -thee, and with a full heart thank God that such beings have lived! - -I watched master dispatch his supper in a most summary manner. At length -he settled himself back in his chair, and, taking his tooth-pick from -his waistcoat pocket, began picking his teeth. - -"Wal, Ann," he said, as he swung himself back in his chair, "how's ole -Poll?" - -"She is still asleep." - -"Yes, I said she was possuming; but by to-morrow, if she ain't up outen -that ar' bunk of hers, I'll know the reason; and I'll sell her to the -trader that's comin' for Lindy." - -"I wish you would sell her, father, and buy a new cook; she prepares -everything in such an old-fashioned manner--can't make a single French -dish," said Miss Jane. - -"I don't care a cuss 'bout yer French dishes, or yer fashionable cooks; -I's gwine to sell her, becase the craps didn't yield me much this year, -and I wants money, so I must make it by sellin' off niggers." - -"You must not sell Aunt Polly, and you shall not," said young master, -with a fearful emphasis. - -"What do you mean, lad?" cried the infuriated father, and he sprang from -his seat, and was in the very act of rushing upon the offender; but -suddenly he quailed before the fixed, determined gaze of that eye. He -looked again, then cowered, reeled, and staggered like a drunken man, -and, falling back in his chair, he covered his face with his hands, and -uttered a fearful groan. The ladies were frightened; they had never seen -their father thus fearfully excited. They dared not speak one word. The -finger of an awful silence seemed laid upon each and every one present. -At length young master, with a slow step, approached his father, and, -taking the large hand, which swung listlessly, within his own, said, -"Fath--;" but before he had finished the syllable, Mr. Peterkin sprang -up, exclaiming, - -"Off, I say! off! off! she sent you here; she told you to speak so to -me." Then gazing wildly at Johnny, he cried, "Those are her eyes, that -is her face. I say, away! away! leave me! you torment me with the sight -of that face! It's hers it's hers. Blood will have blood, and now you -comes to git mine!" and the strong man fell prostrate upon the floor, in -a paroxysm of agony. He foamed at the mouth, and rolled his great vacant -eyes around the room in a wildness fearful to behold. - -"Oh Lor'," said old Nace, who appeared in the doorway, "oh Lor', him's -got a fit." - -The ladies shrieked and screamed in a frightful manner. Young master was -almost preternaturally calm. He and Miss Bradly (after Nace and Jake had -placed master on the bed) rendered him every attention. Miss Bradly -chafed his temples with camphor, and moistened the lips and palms of -the hands with it. When he began to revive, he turned his face to the -wall and wept like a child. Then he fell off into a quiet sleep. - -Young master and Miss Bradly watched beside that restless sleeper long -and faithfully. And from that night there grew up between them a fervent -friendship, which endured to the last of their mortal days. - -Upon frequently going into Aunt Polly's cabin, I was surprised to find -her still sleeping. At length when my duties were all discharged in the -house, and I went to prepare for the night's rest, I thought I would -arouse her from her torpor and administer a little nourishment that -might benefit her. - -To my surprise her arm felt rigid, and oh, so cold! What if she is dead! -thought I; and a cold thrill passed over my frame. The big drops burst -from my brow and stood in chilly dew upon my temples. Oh God! can it be -that she is dead! One look, one more touch, and the dreadful question -would be answered; yet, when I attempted to stretch forth my hand, it -was stiff and powerless. In a moment the very atmosphere seemed to grow -heavy; 'twas peopled with a strange, charnel gloom. My breath was thick -and broken, coming only at intervals and with choking gaspings. One more -desperate effort! I commanded myself, gathered all my courage, and, -seizing hold of the body with a power which was stronger than my own, I -turned it over--when, oh God of mercy, such a spectacle! the question -was answered with a fearful affirmation. There, rigid, still and -ghastly, she lay in death. The evident marks of a violent struggle were -stamped upon those features, which, despite their tough -hard-favoredness, and their gaunt gloom, were dear to me; for had she -not been my best of friends, nay proved her friendship by a martyrdom -which, if slower, was no less heroic than that which adorns the columns -of historical renown? Gently I closed those wide-staring, blank eyes, -and pressed tenderly together the distended jaws; and, taking from a box -a slipet of white muslin, bound up her cheeks. Slowly, and not without a -feeling of terror, I unwound the bandage from her brow, which concealed -the wound made by the leeches; this I replaced with my only -handkerchief. I then endeavored to straighten the contracted limbs, for -she had died lying upon her side, with her body drawn nearly double. I -found this a rather difficult task; yet was it a melancholy pleasure, a -duty that I performed irresolutely but with tenderness. - -After all was done, and before getting the water to wash the body (for I -wished to enrobe her decently for the burial), I gave way to the luxury -of expressed grief, and, sinking down upon my knees beside that lifeless -form, thanked God for having taken her from this scene of trouble and -trial. "You are gone, my poor old friend; but that hereafter of which we -all entertain so much dread, cannot be to you so bad as this wretched -present; and though I am lonely without you, I rejoice that you have -left this land of bondage. And I believe that at this moment your tried -soul is free and happy!" - -So saying, I stepped without the door of the cabin, and, looking up to -the clear, cold moon and the way-off stars, I smiled, even in my -bitterness, for I imagined I could see her emancipated soul soaring away -on its new-made wings, to the land forever flowing with milk and honey. -She had often in her earth-pilgrimage, as many tried martyrs had done -before her, fainted by the wayside; but then was she not sorely tempted, -and did not a life of captivity and seven-fold agony, atone for all her -short-comings? Besides, we are divinely informed that where little is -given, little is required. In view of this sacred assurance, let not the -sceptic reader think that my faith was stretched to an unwarranted -degree. Yes, I did and _do_ think that she was at that moment and is now -happy. If not, how am I to account for the strange feeling of peace that -settled over my mind and heart, when I thought of her! For a holy, -heavenly calm, like the dropping of a prophet's mantle, overspread my -heart; a cool sense of ease, refreshing as the night dew, and sustaining -as the high stars, seemed to gird me round! - -I did not heed the cold air, but walked out a few rods in the direction -of the out-house, where Lindy was confined. "Yonder," I soliloquized, -"perishing for a kind word, lies a poor outcast, wretched being. I will -go to her, bury all thoughts of the past, and speak one kind word of -encouragement." - -As I drew near to the "lock-up," the moon that had been sailing swift -and high through the heaven, passed beneath the screen of a dark cloud. -I paused in my steps and looked up to the sky. "Such," I thought, "is -the transit of a human soul across the vault of life; beneath clouds and -shadows the serene face is often hidden, and the spirit's mellow light -is often, by affliction, obscured from view." - -Just then a sob of anguish fell upon my ear. I knew it was Lindy, and -moved hastily forward; but, light as was my foot-fall, it aroused the -sentinel-dog, and, with a loud bark, he sprang toward me. "Down, Cuff! -down!" said I, addressing the dog, who, as soon as he recognized me, -crouched lovingly at my feet. Just then the moon glided with a queenly -air from behind the clouds. "So," I said, "passeth the soul, with the -same Diana-like sweep, from the heavy fold and curtain of human sorrow." -Another moan, deeper and more fearful than the first! I was close beside -the door of the "lock-up," and, cowering down, with my mouth close to -the crevice, I called Lindy. "Who's dar? who's dar? For de love of -heaven somebody come to me," said Lindy, in a half-frantic tone. - -"'Tis I, Lindy, don't you know my voice?" - -"Yes, it's Ann! Oh, please, Ann, help me outen here. I's seen such orful -sights and hearn sich dreful sounds, I'd be a slave all my born days -jist to git way frum here. Oh, Ann, I's seed a _speerit_," and then she -gave such a fearful shriek, that I felt my flesh grow cold and stony as -death. Yet I knew it was my duty to appear calm, and try to persuade her -that it was not true or real. - -"Oh, no, Lindy, you must not be frightened; only hope and trust in God, -and pray to Him. He will take you away from all this trouble. He loves -you. He cares for you, for 'twas He who made you, Your soul is precious -to Him. Oh, try to pray." - -"Oh, but, Ann, I doesn't know how to pray. I never seed God, and I is -afraid of Him. He might be like master." - -This was fearful ignorance, and how to begin to teach her the way to -believe was above my ability; yet I knew that every soul was precious to -God; so I made an endeavor to do all I could in the way of instruction. - -"Say, Our Father, who art in heaven," Lindy. - -"Our Father, who art in heaven," she repeated in a slow, nervous manner. - -"Hallowed be Thy name." Again she repeated, and so on we prayed, she -following accurately after me, though the heavy door separated us. Think -ye not, oh, gentle reader, that this prayer was heard above? Never did -words come more truly from my heart; and with a low moan, they rung -plaintively upon the still, moonlit air! I could tell, from the fervent -tone in which Lindy followed, that her whole soul was engaged. When the -final amen had been said, she asked, "Ann, what's to become of me?" - -I evaded her by saying, "how can I know what master will do?" - -"Yes, but haven't you heard? Oh, don't fool me, Ann, but tell me all." - -For a moment I hesitated, then said: "Yes, Lindy, I'll deal fairly with -you. I have heard that master intends selling you to-morrow to a trader, -whom he went to see to-day; and, if the trader is satisfied with you -to-morrow, the bargain will be closed." - -"Oh, Lord! oh, Lord!" she groaned forth, "oh, is I gwine down de ribber? -Oh, Lord, kill me right now; but don't send me to dat dreful place, down -de ribber, down de ribber!" - -"Oh, trust in the Lord, and He will protect you. Down the river can't be -much worse than here, maybe not so bad. For my part, Lindy, I would -rather be sold and run the risk of getting a good master, than remain -here where we are treated worse than dogs." - -"Oh, dar isn't no sort ob hope ob my gitten any better home den dis -here one; den I knows you all, and way off dar 'mong strange black -folks, oh, no, I never can go; de Lord hab marcy on me." - -This begging of the poor negroes to the Lord to have mercy on them, -though frequent, has no particular significance. It is more a plaint of -agony than a cry for actual mercy; and, in Lindy's case, it most -assuredly only expressed her grief, for she had no ripe faith in the -power and willingness of Our Father to send mercy to her. Religion she -believed consisted in going to church every Sunday twice; consequently -it was a luxury, which, like all luxuries, must be monopolized by the -whites. From the very depths of my heart I prayed that the light of -Divine grace might shine in upon her darkened intellect. Soul of Faith, -verily art thou soul of beauty! And though, as a special gift, faith is -not withheld from the lowliest, the most ignorant, yet does its -possession give to the poorest and most degraded Ethiopian a divine -consciousness, an inspiration, that as to what is grandest in the soul -exalts him above the noblest of poets. - -Whilst talking to Lindy, I was surprised to hear the muffled sound of an -approaching footstep. Noiselessly I was trying to creep away, when young -master said in a low voice: - -"Is this you, Ann? Wait a moment. Have you spoken to Lindy? Have you -told her--" - -He did not finish the sentence, and I answered, - -"Yes, I have told her that she is to be sold, and to a trader." - -"Is she willing?" - -"No, sir, she has a great terror of down the river." - -"That is the way with them all, yet her condition, so far as treatment -is concerned, may be bettered, certainly it cannot be made worse." - -"Will you speak to her, young Master, and reconcile her to her -situation?" - -"Yes, I will do all I can." - -"And now I will go and stay with the corpse of dear Aunt Polly;" here I -found it impossible to restrain my tears, and, convulsed with emotion, -I seated myself upon the ground with my back against the door of the -lock-up. - -"Dead? dead? Aunt Polly dead?" he asked in a bewildered tone. - -"Yes, young Master, I found her dead, and with every appearance of -having had a severe struggle." - -I then told him about the leeching process, how the doctor had acted, -&c. - -"Murdered! She was most cruelly murdered!" he murmured to himself. - -In the excitement of conversation he had elevated his tone a good deal, -and the fearful news reached the ears of Lindy, and she shrieked out, - -"Is Aunt Polly dead? Oh, tell me, for I thinks I sees her sperit now." - -Then such entreaties as she made to get out were agonizing to hear. - -"Oh, if you can't let me out, don't leave me! Oh, don't leave me, Ann! I -is so orful skeered. I do see such terrible sights, and it 'pears like -when you is here talking, dem orful things don't come arter me." - -"You go, Ann, and watch with Aunt Polly's body; I will stay here with -this poor creature." - -"What, you, young master; no, no, you shall not, it will kill you. Your -cough will increase, and it might prove fatal. No, I will stay here." - -"But who will watch with Aunt Polly?" - -"I will awaken Amy, and make her keep guard." - -"No, she is too young, lacks nerve, will be frightened; besides, you -must not be found here in the morning. You would be severely punished -for it. Go now, good Ann, and leave me here." - -"No, young master, I cannot leave you to what I am sure will be certain -death." - -"That would be no misfortune to me." - -And I shall never forget the calm and half-glorified expression of his -face, as he pronounced these words. - -"Go, Ann," he continued, "leave me to watch and pray beside this forlorn -creature, and, if the Angel of Death spreads his wings on this midnight -blast, I think I should welcome him; for life, with its broken promises -and its cold humanity, sickens me--oh so much." - -And his beautiful head fell languidly on his breast; and again I -listened to that low, husky cough. To-night it had an unusual sound, -and, forgetful of the humble relation in which I stood to him, I grasped -his arm firmly but lovingly, saying, - -"Hark to that cough! Now you _must_ go in." - -"No, I cannot. I know best; besides, since nothing less gentle will do, -I needs must use authority, and command you to go." - -"I would that you did not exercise your authority against yourself." - -But he waved me off. Reluctantly I obeyed him. Again I entered the cabin -and roused Amy, who slept on a pallet or heap of straw at the foot of -the bed, where the still, unbreathing form of my old friend lay. It was -difficult to awake her, for she was always wearied at night, and slept -with that deep soundness peculiar to healthful childhood; but, after -various shakes, I contrived to make her open her eyes and speak to me. - -"Come Amy," I said, "rouse, I want you to help me." - -"In what way and what fur you wake me up?" she said as she sat upright -on the straw, and began rubbing her eyes. - -"Never mind, but you get up and I will tell you." - -When she was fairly awake, she assisted me in lifting in a large tub of -water. - -"Oh, is Aunt Polly any sicker?" she inquired. - -"Amy, she is dead." - -"Oh, Lord, den I ain't gwine to hope you, bekase I's afeared ob a dead -body." - -"It can't harm you." - -"Yes it ken; anyhow, I is feared ob it, and I ain't gwine to hope you." - -"Well, you need not touch her, only sit up with me whilst I wash her and -dress her nicely." - -"Well, I'll do dat much." - -Accordingly, she crouched down in the corner and concealed her face with -her hands, whilst I proceeded to wash the body thoroughly and dress it -out in an old faded calico, which, in life, had constituted her finest -robe. Bare and undecked, but clean, appeared that tabernacle of flesh, -which had once enshrined a tried but immortal spirit. When all was -finished, I seated myself near the partly-opened door, and waited for -the coming of day. Ah, when was the morn of glad freedom to break for -me? - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - -SYMPATHY CASTETH OUT FEAR--CONSEQUENCE OF THE NIGHT'S WATCH--TROUBLED -REFLECTIONS. - - -Morn did break, bright and clear, over the face of the sleeping earth! -It was a still and blessed hour. Man, hushed from his rushing activity, -lay reposeful in the arms of "Death's counterfeit--sleep." All animated -nature was quiet and calm, till, suddenly, a gush of melody broke from -the clear throats of the wildwood birds and made the air vocal. Another -day was dawning; another day born to witness sins and cruelties the most -direful. Do we not often wonder why the sky can smile so blue and -lovingly, when such outrages are enacted beneath it? But I must not -anticipate. - -As soon as the sun had fairly risen I knocked at the house-door, which -was opened by Miss Bradly, whose languid face and crumpled dress, proved -that she had taken no rest during the night. Bidding her a polite -good-morning, I inquired if the ladies had risen? She answered that they -were still asleep, and had rested well during the night. I next inquired -for master's health. - -"Oh," said she, "I think he is well, quite well again. He slept soundly. -I think he only suffered from a violent and sudden mental excitement. A -good night's rest, and a sedative that I administered, have restored -him; but _to-day_, oh, _to-day_, how I do dread to-day." - -To the latter part of this speech I made no answer; for, of late, I had -learned to distrust her. Even if her belief was right, I could not -recognize her as one heroic enough to promulgate it from the -house-tops. I saw in her only a weak, servile soul, drawn down from the -lofty purpose of philanthropy, seduced by the charm of "vile lucre." -Therefore I observed a rigid silence. Feeling a little embarrassed, I -began playing with the strings of my apron, for I was fearful that the -expression of my face might betray what was working in my mind. - -"What is the matter, Ann?" - -This recalled the tragedy that had occurred in the cabin, and I said, in -a faltering tone, - -"Death has been among us. Poor Aunt Polly is gone." - -"Is it possible? When did she die? Poor old creature!" - -"She died some time before midnight. When I left the house I was -surprised to find her still sleeping, so I thought perhaps she was too -sluggish, and, upon attempting to arouse her, I discovered that she was -dead!" - -"Why did you not come and inform me? I would have assisted you in the -last sad offices." - -"Oh, I did not like to disturb you. I did everything very well myself." - -"Johnny and I sat up all night; that is, I suppose he was up, though he -left the room a little after midnight, and has not since returned. I -should not wonder if he has been walking the better part of the night. -He so loves solitude and the night-time--but then," she added, musingly -"he has a bad cough, and it may be dangerous. The night was chilly, the -atmosphere heavy. What if this imprudence should rapidly develop a -fearful disease?" She seemed much concerned. - -"I will go," said she, "and search for him;" but ere these words had -fairly died upon her lips, we were startled by a cough, and, looking up, -we beheld the subject of our conversation within a few steps of us. Oh, -how wretchedly he was changed! It appeared as if the wreck of years had -been accomplished in the brief space of a night. Haggard and pale, with -his eyes roving listlessly, dark purple lines of unusual depth -surrounding them, and with his bright, gold hair, heavy with the dew, -and hanging neglected around his noble head, even his clear, pearl-like -complexion appeared dark and discolored. - -"Where have you been, Johnny?" asked Miss Bradly. - -"To commune with the lonely and comfort the bound; at the door of the -'lock-up,' our miniature Bastile, I have spent the night." Here -commenced a paroxysm of coughing, so violent that he was obliged to seat -himself upon the door-sill. - -"Oh, Johnny," exclaimed the terrified lady. - -But as he attempted to check her fears, another paroxysm, still more -frightful, took place, and this time the blood gushed copiously from his -mouth. Miss Bradly threw her arms tenderly around him, and, after a -succession of rapid gushes of blood, his head fell languidly on her -shoulder, like a pale, broken lily! - -I instantly ran to call up the ladies, when master approached from his -chamber; seeing young master lying so pale, cold, and insensible in the -arms of Miss Bradly, he concluded he was dead, and, crying out in a -frantic tone, he asked, - -"In h--l's name, what has happened to my boy?" - -"He has had a violent hemorrhage," replied Miss Bradly, with an -ill-disguised composure. - -The sight of the blood, which lay in puddles and clots over the steps, -increased the terror of the father, and, frantically seizing his boy in -his arms, he covered the still, pale face with kisses. - -"Oh, my boy! my boy! how much you are like _her_! This is her mouth, -eyes, and nose, and now you 'pears jist like she did when I seed her -last. These limbs are stiff and frozen. It can't be death; no, it can't -be. I haven't killed you, too--say, Miss Bradly, is he dead?" - -"No, sir, only exhausted from the violence of the paroxysm, and the -copious hemorrhage, but he requires immediate medical treatment; send, -promptly, for Dr. Mandy." - -Master turned to me, saying, - -"Gal, go order Jake to mount the swiftest horse, and ride for life and -death to Dr. Mandy; tell him to come instantly, my son is dying." - -I obeyed, and, with all possible promptitude, the message was -dispatched. Oh, how different when _his_ son was ill. Then you could see -that human life was valuable; had it been a negro, he would have waited -until after breakfast before sending for a doctor. - -Mr. Peterkin bore his son into the house, placed him on the bed, and, -seating himself beside him, watched with a tenderness that I did not -think belonged to his harsh nature. - -In a very short time Jake returned with Dr. Mandy, who, after feeling -young master's pulse, sounding his chest, and applying the stethescope, -said that he feared it was an incipient form of lung-fever. We had much -cause for apprehension. There was a perplexed expression upon the face -of the doctor, a tremulousness in his motions, which indicated that he -was in great fear and doubt as to the case. He left some powders, to be -administered every hour, and, after various and repeated injunctions to -Miss Bradly, who volunteered to nurse the patient, he left the house. - -After taking the first powder, young master lay in a deep, unbroken -sleep. As I stood by his bedside I saw how altered he was. The cheek, -which, when he was walking, had seemed round and full, was now shrunk -and hollow, and a fiery spot burned there like a living coal; and the -dark, purple ring that encircled the eyes, and the sharp contraction of -the thin nostril, were to me convincing omens of the grave. Then, too, -the anxious, care-written face of Miss Bradly tended to deepen my -apprehension. How my friends were falling around me! Now, just when I -was beginning to live, came the fell destroyer of my happiness. -Happiness? Oh, does it not seem a mockery for the slave to employ that -word? As if he had anything to do with it! The slave, who owns nothing, -ay, literally nothing. His wife and children are all his master's. His -very wearing apparel becomes another's. He has no right to use it, save -as he is advised by his owner. Go, my kind reader, to the hotels of the -South and South-west, look at the worn and dejected countenances of the -slaves, and tell me if you do not read misery there. Look in at the -saloons of the restaurants, coffee-houses, &c., at late hours of the -night; there you will see them, tired, worn and weary, with their aching -heads bandaged up, sighing for a few moments' sleep. There the proud, -luxurious, idle whites sip their sherbets, drink wine, and crack their -everlasting jokes, but there must stand your obsequious slave, with a -smile on his face, waiter in hand, ready to attend to "Master's -slightest wish." No matter if his tooth is aching, or his child dying, -he must smile, or be flogged for gruffness. This "chattel personal," -though he bear the erect form of a man, has no right to any privileges -or emotions. Oh, nation of the free, how long shall this be? Poor, -suffering Africa, country of my sires, how much longer upon thy bleeding -shoulders must the cross be pressed! Is there no tomb where, for a short -space, thou shalt lie, and then, bursting the bonds of night and death, -spring up free, redeemed and regenerate? - -"Oh, will he die?" I murmured, "he who reconciles me to my bondage, who -is my only friend? Another affliction I cannot bear; I've been so tried -in the furnace, that I have not strength to meet another." - -Those thoughts passed through my brain as I stood beside young master; -but the entrance of Mr. Peterkin diverted them, and, stepping up to him, -I said, "Master, Aunt Polly is dead." - -"You lie!" he thundered out. - -"No, Mr. Peterkin, the old woman is really dead," said Miss Bradly, in a -kind but mournful tone. - -"Who killed her?" again he thundered. - -Ay, who did kill her? Could I not have answered, "Thou art the man"? But -I did not. Silently I stood before him, never daring to trust myself -with a word. - -"What time did she kick the bucket?" asked Mr. Peterkin, in one of the -favorite Kentucky vulgarisms, whereby the most solemn and awful debt of -nature is ridiculed by the unthinking. - -I told him how I had found her, what I had done, &c., all of which is -known to the reader. - -"I believe h--l is loose among the niggers. Now, here's Poll had to die -bekase she couldn't cut any other caper. I might have made a sight o' -money by her sale; and she, old fool, had to cut me outen it. Wal, I'll -only have to sell some of the others, fur I's bound to make up a sartin -sum of money to pay to some of my creditors in L----." - -This speech was addressed to Miss Bradly, upon whom it made not half the -impression that it did upon me. How I hoped I should be one, for if -young master, as I began to believe, should die soon, the place would -become to me more horrible than a tiger's den. Any change was desirable. - -When the young ladies rose from their beds I went in to attend on them, -and communicated the news of young master's illness and Aunt Polly's -death. For their brother they expressed much concern, but the faithful -old domestic, who had served them so long, was of no more consequence -than a dog. Miss Jane did seem provoked to think that she "had died on -their hands," as she expressed it. "If pa had sold her months ago, we -might have had the money, or something valuable, but now we must go to -the expense of furnishing her with a coffin." - -"Coffin! hoity-toity! Father's not going to give her a coffin, an old -store-box is good enough to put her old carcass in." And thus they spoke -of one of God's dead. - -Usually persons respect those upon whom death has set his ghastly -signet; but these barbarians (for such I think they must have been) -spoke with an irreverence of one whose body lay still and cold, only few -steps from them. To some people no thing or person is sacred. - -After breakfast I waited in great anxiety to hear how and when master -intended to have Aunt Polly buried. - -I had gone into the little desolate cabin, which was now consecrated by -the presence of the dead. There _she_ lay, cold and ashen; and the long -white strip that I had thrown over her was too thin to conceal the face. -It was an old muslin curtain that I had found in looking over the boxes -of the deceased, and out of respect had flung it over the remains. So -rigid and hard-set seemed her features in that last, deep sleep, so -tightly locked were those bony fingers, so mournful looked the -straightened, stiffened form, so devoid of speculation the half-closed -eyes, that I turned away with a shudder, saying inwardly: - -"Oh, death, thou art revolting!" Yet when I bethought me of the peace -passing human understanding into which she had gone, the safe bourne -that she had attained, "where the wicked cease from troubling and the -weary are at rest;" when I thought of this, death lost its horror, and -the grave its gloom. Oh, Eternity, problem that the living can never -solve. Oh, death, full of victory to the Christian! wast thou not, to my -old and weary friend, a messenger of sweet peace; and was not the tomb a -gateway to new and undreamed-of happiness? Yes, so will I believe; for -so believing am I made joyful. - -Relieved thus by faith from the burden of grief, I moved gently about -the room, trying to bring something like order to its ragged appearance; -for Jake, who had been dispatched for Doctor Mandy to come and see young -master, had met on the way a colored preacher, to whom he announced Aunt -Polly's death, and who had promised to come and preach a funeral sermon, -and attend the burial. This was to the other negroes a great treat; they -regarded a funeral as quite a gala occasion, inasmuch as we had never -had such a thing upon the farm. I had my own doubts, though I did not -express them, whether master would permit it. - -Young master still slept, from the strong effects of the sleeping potion -which had been administered to him. Miss Bradly, overcome by the night's -watching, dozed in a large chair beside the bed, and an open Bible, in -which she had been reading, lay upon her lap. The blinds were closed, -but the dim light of a small fire that blazed on the hearth gave some -appearance of life to the room. Every one who passed in and out, stepped -on tip-toe, as if fearful of arousing the sleeper. - -Oh, the comfort of a white skin! No darkened room, no comfortable air, -marked the place where she my friend had died. No hushed dread nor -whispered voice paid respect to the cabin-room where lay her dead body; -but, thanks to God, in the morning of the resurrection we shall come -forth alike, regardless of the distinctions of color or race, each one -to render a faithful account of the deeds done in the body. - -Mr. Peterkin came to the kitchen-door, and called Nace, saying: - -"Where is that old store-box that the goods and domestics for the house -was fetched home in, from L----, last fall?" - -"It's in de smoke-house, Masser." - -"Wal, go git it, and bury ole Poll in it." - -"It's right dirty and greasy, Master," I ventured to say. - -"Who keres if 'tis? What right has you to speak, slut?" and he gave me a -violent kick in the side with his rough brogan. - -"Take that for yer imperdence. Who tole you to put yer mouth in?" - -Nace and Dan soon produced the box, which had no top, and was dirty and -greasy, as it well might be from its year's lodgment in the meat-house. - -"Now, go dig a hole and put Poll in it." - -As master was turning away, he was met by a neatly-dressed black man, -who wore a white muslin cravat and white cotton gloves, and carried two -books in his hand. He had an humble, reverent expression, and I readily -recognized him as the free colored preacher of the neighborhood--a good, -religious man, God-fearing and God-serving. No one knew or could say -aught against him. How I did long to speak to him; to sit at his feet as -a disciple, and learn from him heavenly truths. - -As master turned round, the preacher, with a polite air, took off his -hat, saying: - -"Your servant, Master." - -"What do you want, nigger?" - -"Why, Master, I heard that one of your servants was dead, and I come to -ask your leave to convene the friends in a short prayer-meeting, if you -will please let us." - -"No, I be d----d if you shall, you rascally free nigger; if you don't -git yourself off my place, I'll git my cowhide to you. I wants none of -yer tom-foolery here." - -"I beg Master's pardon, but I meant no harm. I generally go to see the -sick, and hold prayer over the dead." - -"You doesn't do it here; and now take your dirty black hide away, or it -will be the worse for you." - -Without saying one word, the mortified preacher, who had meant well, -turned away. I trust he did as the apostles of old were bidden by their -Divine Master to do, "shook the dust from his feet against that house." -Oh, coarse and sense-bound man, you refused entertainment to an "angel, -unawares." - -"Well, I sent that prayin' rascal a flyin' quick enough;" and with this -self-gratulatory remark, he entered the house. - -Nace and Jake carried the box into the cabin, preceded by me. - -Most reverently I laid away the muslin from the face and form; and -lifting the head, while Nace assisted at the feet, we attempted to place -the body in the box, but found it impossible, as the box was much too -short. Upon Nace's representing this difficulty to Mr. Peterkin, he only -replied: - -"Wal, bury her on a board, without any more foolin' 'bout it." - -This harsh mandate was obeyed to the letter. With great expedition, Nace -and Jake dug a hole in the earth, and laid a few planks at the bottom, -upon which I threw an old quilt, and on that hard bed they laid her. -Good and faithful servant, even in death thou wast not allowed a bed! -Over the form I spread a covering, and the men laid a few planks, -box-fashion, over that, and then began roughly throwing on the fresh -earth. "Dust to dust," I murmured, and, with a secret prayer, turned -from her unmarked resting-place. Mr. Peterkin expressly ordered that it -should not have a grave shape, and so it was patted and smoothed down, -until, save for the moisture and fresh color of the earth, you could not -have known that the ground had ever been broken. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -THE TRADER--A TERRIBLE FRIGHT--POWER OF PRAYER--GRIEF OF THE HELPLESS. - - -About noon a gaudily-dressed and rough-looking man rode up to the gate, -and alighted from a fine bay horse. With that free and easy sort of way -so peculiar to a _certain class_ of mankind, he walked up the avenue to -the front door. - -"Gal," he said, addressing me, "whar's yer master?" - -"In the house. Will you walk in?" - -"No, it is skersely worth while; jist tell him that me, Bill Tompkins, -wants to see him; but stay," he added, as I was turning to seek my -master, "is you the gal he sold to me yesterday?" - -"I don't know, sir." - -"Wal, you is devilish likely. Put out yer foot. Wal, it is nice enuff to -belong to a white 'ooman. You is a bright-colored mulatto. I _must_ have -you." - -"Heavens! I hope not," was my half-uttered expression, as I turned away, -for I had caught the meaning of that lascivious eye, and shrank from the -threatened danger. Though I had been cruelly treated, yet had I been -allowed to retain my person inviolate; and I would rather, a -thousand-fold, have endured the brutality of Mr. Peterkin, than those -loathsome looks which I felt betokened ruin. - -"Master, a man, calling himself Bill Tompkins, wishes to see you," said -I, as I entered his private apartment. - -"Can't yer say Mr. Tompkins?" - -"He told me to tell you Bill Tompkins; I only repeat his words." - -"Whar is he?" - -"At the front door." - -"Didn't yer ax him in, hussy?" - -"Yes, sir, but he refused, saying it was not worth while." - -"Oh," thought I, when left alone, "am I sold to that monster? Am I to -become so utterly degraded? No, no; rather than yield my purity I will -give up my life, and trust to God to pardon the suicide." - -In this state of mind I wandered up and down the yard, into the kitchen, -into the cabin, into the room where young master lay sleeping, into the -presence of the young ladies, and out again into the air; yet my -curious, feverish restlessness, could not be allayed. A trader was in -the house--a bold, obscene man, and into his possession I might fall! -Oh, happy indeed must be those who feel that he or they have the -exclusive custody of their own persons; but the poor negro has nothing, -not even--save in rare cases--the liberty of choosing a home. - -I had not dared, since daylight, to go near the "lock-up," for a fearful -punishment would have been due the one whom Mr. Peterkin found loitering -there. - -I was so tortured by apprehension, that my eyes burned and my head -ached. I had heard master say that the unlooked-for death of Aunt Polly -would force him to sell some of the other slaves, in order to realize a -certain sum of money, and Tompkins had expressed a desire for me. It was -likely that he would offer a good price; then should I be lost. Oh, -heavenly Virtue! do not desert me! Let me bear up under the fiercest -trials! - -I had wandered about, in this half-crazed manner, never daring to -venture within "ear-shot" of master and Mr. Tompkins, fearing that the -latter might, upon a second sight of me, have the fire of his wicked -passions aroused, and then my fate would be sealed. - -I determined to hide in the cabin, to pray there, in the room that had -been hallowed by the presence of God's angel of Death; but there, -cowering on the old brick hearth, like a hen with her brood of chickens, -I found, to my surprise, Amy, with little Ben in her arms, and the two -girls crouched close to her side, evidently feeling that her presence -was sufficient to protect them. - -"Lor', Ann," said Amy, her wide eyes stretched to their utmost tension, -"thar is a trader talkin' wid Masser; I won'er whose gwine to be sole. I -hope tain't us." - -I didn't dare reply to her. I feared for myself, and I feared for her. - -Kneeling down in the corner of the cabin, I besought mercy of the -All-merciful; but somehow, my prayers fell back cold upon my heart. God -seemed a great way off, and I could not realize the presence of angels. -"Oh," I cried, "for the uplifting faith that hath so often blest me! oh -for the hopefulness, the trustingness of times past! Why, why is the -gate of heaven shut against me? Why am I thus self-bound? Oh, for a -wider, broader and more liberal view!" But I could not pray. Great God! -had that last and only soul-stay been taken from me? With a black -hopelessness gathering at my heart, I arose from my knees, and looked -round upon those desolate orphans, shrinking terror-stricken, hiding -away from the merciless pursuit of a giant; and then I bethought me of -my own desolation, and I almost arraigned the justice of Heaven. Most -wise Father! pardon me! Thou, who wast tempted by Satan, and to whom the -cup of mortality was bitter, pity me and forgive! - -Turning away from the presence of those pleading children I entered the -kitchen, and there were Jake and Dan, terror written on their strong, -hard faces; for, no matter how hard is the negro's present master, he -always regards a change of owners as entailing new dangers; and no -wonder that, from education and experience, he is thus suspicious, for -so many troubles have come and do come upon him, that he cannot imagine -a change whereby he is to be benefited. - -"Has you hearn anything, Ann?" asked Dan, with his great flabby lips -hanging loosely open, and his eyes considerably distended. - -"Nothing." - -"Who's gwine to be sole?" asked Jake. - -"I don't know?" - -"Hope tisn't me." - -"And hope tisn't me," burst from the lips of both of them, and to this -my heart gave a fervent though silent echo. - -"He is de one dat's bought Lindy," said old Nace, who now entered, "and -Masser's gwine to sell some de rest ob yer." - -"Why do yer say de rest ob yer? Why mayn't it be you?" asked Dan. - -"Bekase he ain't gwine to sell me, ha! ha! I sarved him too long fur -dat." - -Ginsy and Sally came rushing in, frightened, like all the rest, -exclaiming, - -"Oh, we's in danger; a nigger-trader is talkin' wid master." - -We had no time for prolonged speculation, for the voice of Mr. Peterkin -was heard in the entry, and, throwing open the door, he entered, -followed by Tompkins. - -"Here's the gang, and a devilish good-lookin' set they is." - -"Yes, but let me fust see the one I have bought." - -"Here, Nace," said master, "take this key, and tell Lindy to dress -herself and come here." The last part of this sentence was said in an -under-tone. - -In terror I fled from the kitchen. Scarcely knowing what I did, I rushed -into the young ladies' room, into which Nace had conducted Lindy, upon -whom they were placing some of their old finery. A half-worn calico -dress, gingham apron and white collar, completed the costume. I never -shall forget the expression of Lindy's face, as she looked vacantly -around her, hunting for sympathy, yet finding none, from the cold, -haughty faces that gazed upon her. - -"Now go," said Miss Jane, "and try to behave yourself in your new home." - -"Good-bye, Miss Jane," said the humbled, weeping negro. - -"Good-bye," was coldly answered; but no hand was extended to her. - -"Good-bye, Miss Tildy." - -Miss Tildy, who was standing at the glass arranging her hair, never -turned round to look upon the poor wretch, but carelessly said, - -"Good-bye." - -She looked toward me; her lip was quivering and tears were rolling down -her cheeks. I turned my head away, and she walked off with the farewell -unspoken. - -Quickly I heard Jake calling for me. Then I knew that my worst fears -were on the point of realization. With a timid, hesitating step, I -walked to the kitchen. There, ranged in single file, stood the servants, -with anxious faces, where a variety of contending feelings were written. -I nerved myself for what I knew was to follow, and stepping firmly up, -joined the phalanx. - -"That's the one," said Tompkins, as he eyed me with that _same_ look. -There he stood, twirling a heavy bunch of seals which depended from a -large, curiously-wrought chain. He looked more like a fiend than a -_man_. - -"This here one is your'n," said Mr. Peterkin, pointing to Lindy; "and, -gal, that gentleman is yer master." - -Lindy dropped a courtesy to him, and tried to wipe away her tears; for -experience had taught her that the only safe course was to stifle -emotions. - -"Here, gal, open yer mouth," Tompkins said to Lindy. She obeyed. - -"Now let me feel yer arms." - -He then examined her feet, ankles, legs, passed his hands over various -parts of her body, made her walk and move her limbs in different ways, -and then, seemingly satisfied with the bargain, said, - -"Wal, that trade is closed." - -Looking toward me, his dissolute eyes began to glare furiously. Again my -soul quailed; but I tried to govern myself, and threw upon him a glance -as cold as ice itself. - -"What will you take for this yallow gal?" he said, as he laid his hand -upon my shoulder. I shrank beneath his touch; yet resistance would only -have made the case worse, and I was compelled to submit. - -"I ain't much anxious to sell her; she is my darter Jane's waitin' -'ooman, and, you see, my darters are putty much stuck up. They thinks -they must have a waitin'-maid; but, if you offer a far price, maybe we -will close in." - -"Wal, as she is a fancy article, I'll jist say take twelve hundred -dollars, and that's more an' she's actilly worth; but I wants her fur my -_own use_; a sorter private gal like, you knows," and he gave a -lascivious blink, which Mr. Peterkin seemed to understand. I felt a deep -crimson suffuse my face. Oh, God! this was the heaviest of all -afflictions. _Sold!_ and for _such a purpose_! - -"I reckon the bargain is closed, then," said Mr. Peterkin. - -I felt despair coiling around my heart. Yet I knew that to make an -appeal to their humanity would be worse than idle. - -"Who, which of them have you sold, father?" asked Miss Jane, who entered -the kitchen, doubtless for the humane object of witnessing the distress -of the poor creatures. - -"Wal, Lindy's sold, and we are 'bout closing the bargain for Ann." - -"Why, Ann belongs to me." - -"Yes, but Tompkins offers twelve hundred dollars; and six hundred of it -you shill have to git new furniture." - -"She shan't go for six thousand. I want an accomplished maid when I go -up to the city, and she just suits me. Remember I have your deed of -gift." - -This relieved me greatly, for I understood her determination; and, -though I knew all sorts of severity would be exercised over me in my -present home, I felt assured that my honor would remain unstained. - -The trader tried to persuade and coax Miss Jane; but she remained -impervious to all of his importunities. - -"Wal, then," he said, after finding she would yield to no argument, -"haven't you none others you can let me have? I am 'bliged to fill up my -lot." - -"Wal, since my darter won't trade nohow, I must try and let you have -some of the others, though I don't care much 'bout sellin'." - -Mr. Peterkin was what was called tight on a trade; now, though he was -anxious enough to sell, he affected to be perfectly indifferent. This -was what would be termed an excellent ruse de guerre. - -"If you want children, I think we can supply you," said Miss Jane, and, -looking round, she asked, - -"Where are Amy and her sisters?" - -My heart sank within me, and, though I knew full well where they were, I -would not speak. - -Little Jim, the son of Ginsy, cried out, - -"Yes, I know where dey is. I seed em in dar." - -"Well, run you young rascal, and tell 'em to come here in a minnit," -said Mr. Peterkin; and away the boy scampered. In a few moments he -returned, followed by Amy, who was bearing Ben in her arms; and, holding -on to her skirts, were the two girls, terror limned on their dark, -shining faces. - -"Step up here to this gentleman, Amy, and say how would you like him for -a master?" said Mr. Peterkin. - -"Please, sir," replied Amy, "I don't kere whar I goes, so I takes these -chillen wid me." - -"I do not want Amy to be sold. Sell the children, father; but let us -keep Amy for a house-girl." Cold and unfeeling looked the lady as she -pronounced these words; but could you have seen the expression of Amy's -face! There is no human language, no painter's power, to show forth the -eye of frantic madness with which the girl glared around on all. -Clutching little Ben tightly, savagely to her bosom, she said no word, -and all seemed struck by the extreme wildness of her manner. - -"Let's look at that boy," said the trader, as he attempted to unfasten -Amy's arms but were locked round her treasure. - -"Dont'ee, dont'ee," shrieked the child. - -"Yes, but he will," said Mr. Peterkin, as, with a giant's force, he -broke asunder the slight arms, "you imperdent hussy, arn't you my -property? mine to do what I pleases with; and do you dar' to oppose me?" - -The girl said nothing; but the wild expression began to grow wilder, -fiercer, and more frightful. Little Ben, who was not accustomed to any -kind of notice, and felt at home nowhere except in Amy's arms, set up a -furious scream; but this the trader did not mind, and proceeded to -examine the limbs. - -"Something is the matter with this boy, he's got hip-disease; I knows -from his teeth he is older than you says." - -"Yes," said Amy seizing the idea, "he is weakly, he won't do no good -widout me; buy me too, please, Masser," and she crouched down at the -trader's feet, with her hands thrown up in an air of touching -supplication; but she had gone to the wrong tribunal for mercy. Who can -hope to find so fair a flower blooming amid the dreary brambles of a -negro-trader's breast? - -Tompkins took no other notice of her than to give her a contemptuous -kick, as much as to say, "thing, get out of my way." - -Turning to Mr. Peterkin he said, - -"This boy is not sound. I won't have him at any price," and he handed -him back to Amy, who exclaimed, in a thrilling tone, - -"Thank God! Bless you, Masser!" and she clasped the shy little Ben -warmly to her breast. - -Ben, whose intellect seemed clouded, looked wonderingly around on the -group; then, as if slowly realizing that he had escaped a mighty -trouble, clung closer to Amy. - -"Look here, nigger-wench, does you think to spile the sale of property -in that ar' way? Wal, I'll let you see I'll have things my way. No -nigger that ever was born, shall dictate to me." - -"No, father, I'd punish her well, even if I had to give Ben away; he is -no account here, merely an expense; and do sell those other two girls, -Amy's sisters." - -Mr. Peterkin then called up Lucy and Janey. I have mentioned these two -but rarely in the progress of this book, and for the reason that their -little lives were not much interwoven with the thread of mine. I saw -them often, but observed nothing particular about them. They were quiet, -taciturn, and what is usually called stupid children. They, like little -Ben, never ventured far away from Amy's protecting wing. Now, with a shy -step and furtive glance toward the trader, they obeyed their master's -summons. Poor Amy, with Ben clasped to her heart, strained her body -forward, and looked with stretched eyes and suspended breath toward -Tompkins, who was examining them. - -"Wal, I'll give you three hundred and fifty a-piece for 'em. Now, come, -that's the highest I'll give, Peterkin, and you mustn't try to git any -more out of me. You are a hard customer; but I am in a hurry, so I makes -my largest offer right away: I ain't got the time to waste. That's more -'an anybody else would give for 'em; but I sees that they has good -fingers fur to pick cotton, therefore I gives a big price." - -"It's a bargain, then. They is yourn;" and no doubt Mr. Peterkin thought -he had a good bargain, or he never would have chewed his tobacco in that -peculiarly self-satisfied manner. - -"Stand aside, then," said the trader, pushing his new purchases, as if -they were a bundle of dry goods. Running up to Amy, they began to hold -to her skirts and tremble violently, scarcely knowing what the words of -Tompkins implied. - -"Dey ain't sold?" asked Amy, turning first from one to the other; yet no -one answered. Mr. Peterkin and Tompkins were too busy with their trade, -and the negroes too much absorbed in their own fate, to attend to her. -For my part I had not strength to confirm her half-formed doubt. There -she stood, gathering them to her side with a motherly love. - -"What will you give fur this one?" and Mr. Peterkin pointed to Ginsy, -who stood with an humble countenance. When called up she made a low -courtesy, and went through the examination. Name and age were given; a -fair price was offered for her and her child, and was accepted. - -"Take this boy for a hundred dollars," said Mr. Peterkin, as he jerked -Ben from the arms of the half-petrified Amy. - -"Wal, he isn't much 'count; but, rather then seem contrary, I'll give -that fur him." - -And thus the trade was closed. Human beings were disposed of with as -little feeling as if they had been wild animals. - -"I'm sorry you won't, young Miss, let me have that maid of yourn; but -I'll be 'long next fall, and, fur a good price, I 'spect you'll be -willin' to trade. I wants that yallow wench," and he clicked his fingers -at me. - -"Say, Peterkin, ken you lend me a wagen to take 'em over to my pen?" - -"Oh, yes; and Nace can drive 'em over." - -Conscious of having got a good price, Mr. Peterkin was in a capital -humor. - -"Come, go with me, Peterkin, and we'll draw up the papers, and I'll pay -you your money." - -This was an agreeable sound to master. He ordered Nace to bring out the -wagon, and the order was hardly given before it was obeyed. Dismal -looked that red wagon, the same which years before had carried me away -from the insensible form of my broken-hearted mother. It appeared more -dark and dreary, to me, than a coffin or hearse. - -"Say, Peterkin, don't let 'em take many close; jist a change. It tires -'em too much if they have big bundles to carry." - -"They shan't be troubled with that." - -"Now, niggers, git your bundles and come 'long," said master. - -"Oh," cried Lindy, "can I git to see young master before I start? I -wants to thank him for de comfort he gib me last night," and she wiped -the tears from her eyes, and was starting toward the door of the house, -when Miss Jane intercepted her. - -"No, you runaway hussy, you shan't go in to disturb him, and have a -scene here." - -"Please, Miss Jane, I only wants to say good-bye." - -"You shan't do it." - -Mournfully, and with the tears streaming far down her cheeks, she turned -to me, saying, "Please, you, Ann, tell him good-bye fur me, and good-bye -to you. I hope you will forgive me for all de harm I has done to you." - -I took her hand, but could not speak a word. Silently I pressed it. - -"Whar's your close, gal?" asked Tompkins. - -"I'm gwine to git 'em." - -"Well, be in a hurry 'bout it." - -She went off to gather up a few articles, scarcely sufficient to cover -her; for we were barely allowed a change of clothing, and that not very -decent. - -Ginsy, leading her child with one hand, while she held in the other a -small bundle, walked up to Miss Jane, and dropping a low courtesy, said, - -"Farewell, Miss Jane; can I see Miss Tildy and young master?" - -"No, John is sick, and Tildy can't be troubled just now." - -"Yes, ma'm; please tell 'em good-bye fur me; and I hopes young Masser -will soon be well agin. I'd like to see him afore I went, but I don't -want to 'sturb him." - -"Well, that will do, go on now." - -"Tell young Masser good-bye," Ginsy said, addressing her child. - -"Good-bye," repeated Miss Jane very carelessly, scarcely looking toward -them, and they moved away, and shaking hands with the servants, they -marched on to the wagon. - -All this time Amy had remained like one transfixed; little Ben held one -of her hands, whilst Janey and Luce grasped her skirts firmly. These -children had no clothes, for, as they performed no regular labor, they -were not allowed a change of apparel. On a Saturday night, whilst they -slept, Amy washed out the articles which they had worn during the week; -and now, poor things, they had no bundles to be made up. - -"Come 'long wid yer, young ones," and Tompkins took Ben by the hand; -but he stoutly refused to go, crying out: - -"Go 'way, and let me 'lone." - -"Come on, I'll give you a lump of sugar." - -"I won't, I won't." - -All of them held tightly to Amy, whose vacant face was so stony in its -deep despair, that it struck terror to my soul. - -"No more fuss," said Mr. Peterkin, and he raised his large whip to -strike the screaming Ben a blow; but that motherly instinct that had -taught Amy to protect them thus long, was not now dead, and upon her -outstretched arm the blow descended. A great, fearful gash was made, -from which the fresh blood streamed rapidly; but she minded it not. -What, to that lightning-burnt soul, were the wounds of the body? -Nothing, aye nothing! - -"Oh, don't mark 'em, Peterkin, it will spile the sale," said Tompkins. - -"Come 'long now, niggers, I has no more time to wait;" and, with a -strong wrench, he broke Ben's arms loose from Amy's form, and, holding -him firmly, despite his piteous cries, he ordered Jake to bring the -other two also. This order was executed, and quickly Luce and Janey were -in the grasp of Jake, and borne shrieking to the cart, in which all -three of them were bound and laid. - -Speechless, stony, petrified, stood Amy. At length, as if gifted with a -supernatural energy, she leaped forward, as the cart drove off, and fell -across the path, almost under the feet of the advancing horses. But not -yet for thee, poor suffering child, will come the Angel of Death! It has -been decreed that you shall endure and wait a while longer. - -By an adroit check upon the rein, Nace stopped the wagon suddenly, and -Jake, who was standing near by, lifted Amy up. - -"Take her to the house, and see that she does herself no harm," said Mr. -Peterkin. - -"Yes, Masser, I will," was the reply of the obsequious Jake. - -And so the cart drove on. I shall never forget the sight! Those poor, -down-cast creatures, tied hand and foot, were conveyed they knew not -whither. The shrieks and screams of those children ring now in my ears. -Oh, doleful, most doleful! Why came there no swift execution of that -Divine threat, "Whoso causeth harm to one of these little ones, it were -better for him that a mill-stone were hung about his neck and that he -were drowned in the sea." - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - -TOUCHING FAREWELL FULL OF PATHOS--THE PARTING--MY GRIEF. - - -The half insensible form of Amy was borne by Jake into the cabin, and -laid upon the cot which had been Aunt Polly's. He then closed and -secured the door after him. - -Where, all this time, was Miss Bradly? She, in her terror, had buried -her head upon the bed, on which young master still slept. She tried to -drown the sound of those frantic cries that reached her, despite the -closed door and barred shutter. Oh, did they not reach the ear of -Almighty love? - -"Well, I am glad," exclaimed Miss Tildy, "that it is all over. Somehow, -Jane, I did not like the sound of those young children's cries. Might it -not have been well to let Amy go too?" - -"No, of course not. Now that Lindy has been sold, we need a house-girl, -and Amy may be made a very good one; besides, she enraged me so by -attempting to spoil the sale of Ben." - -"Did she do that? Oh, well, I have no pity for her." - -"It would be something very new, Till, for you to pity a nigger." - -"So it would--yet I was weak enough to feel badly when I heard the -children scream." - -"Oh, you are only nervous." - -"I believe I am, and think I will take some medicine." - -"Take medicine," to stifle human pity! - -"What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug would scour" the -slaveholder's nature of harshness and brutality? Could this be found, -"I would applaud to the very echo, that should applaud again;" but, -alas! there is no remedy for it. Education has taught many of them to -guard their "beloved institution" with a sort of patriotic fervor and -religious zeal. - -When master returned that evening, he was elated to a wonderful degree. -Tompkins had paid him a large sum in ready cash, and this put him in a -good humor with himself and everybody else. He almost felt kindly toward -the negroes. But I looked upon him with more than my usual horror. That -great, bloated face, blazing now with joy and the effect of strong -drink, was revolting to me. Every expression of delight from his lips -brought to my mind the horrid troubles he had caused by the simple -exercise of his tyrannic will upon helpless women and children. The -humble appearance of Ginsy, the touching innocence of her child, the -unnoticed silent grief of Lindy, the fearful, heart-rending distraction -of Amy, the agony of her helpless sisters and brother, all rose to my -mind when I heard Mr. Peterkin's mirthful laugh ringing through the -house. - -Late in the evening young master roused up. The effect of the somnolent -draught had died out, and he woke in full possession of his faculties. -Miss Bradly and I were with him when he woke. Raising himself quickly in -the bed, he asked, - -"What hour is it?" - -"About half-past six," said Miss Bradly. - -"So late? Then am I afraid that all is over! Where is Lindy?" - -"Try and rest a little more; then we can talk!" - -"No, I must know _now_." - -"Wait a while longer." - -"Tell me instantly," he said with a nervous impatience very unusual to -him. - -"Drink this, and I will then talk to you," said Miss Bradly, as she held -a cordial to his lips. - -Obediently he swallowed it, and, as he returned the glass, he asked, - -"How has this wretched matter terminated? What has become of that -unfortunate girl?" - -"She has been sold." - -"To the trader?" - -"Yes, but don't talk about it; perhaps she is better off than we think." - -"Is it wise for us thus to silence our sympathies?" - -"Yes, it is, when we are powerless to act." - -"But have we not, each of us, an influence?" - -"Yes, but in such a dubious way, that in cases like the present, we had -better not openly manifest it." - -"Offensive we should never be; but surely we ought to assume a defensive -position." - -"Yes, but you must not excite yourself." - -"Don't think of me. Already I fear I am too self-indulged. Too much time -I have wasted in inaction." - -"What could you have done? And now what can you do?" - -"That is the very question that agitates me. Oh, that I knew my mission, -and had the power to fulfil it!" - -"Who of the others are sold?" he asked, turning to me. - -"Amy's sisters and brother," and I could not avoid tears. - -"Amy, too?" - -"No, sir." - -"Oh, God, this is too bad! and is she not half-distracted?" - -I made no reply, for an admonitory look from Miss Bradly warned me to be -careful as to what I said. - -"Where is father?" - -"In his chamber." - -"Ann, go tell him I wish to speak with him." - -Before obeying I looked toward Miss Bradly, and, finding nothing adverse -in her expression, I went to do as he bade. - -"Is he any worse?" master asked, when I had delivered the message. - -"No, sir; he does not appear to be worse, yet I think he is very -feeble." - -"What right has you to think anything 'bout it?" he said, as he took -from the mantle a large, black bottle and drank from it. - -I made no reply, but followed him into young master's room, and -pretended to busy myself about some trifling matter. - -"What is it you want, Johnny?" - -"Father, you have done a wicked thing!" - -"What do you mean, boy?" - -"You have sold Amy's sisters and brothers away from her." - -"And what's wicked in selling a nigger?" - -"Hasn't a negro human feeling?" - -"Why, they don't feel like white people; of course not." - -"That must be proved, father." - -"Oh, now, my boy, 'taint no use for yer to be wastin' of yer good -feelin's on them miserable, ongrateful niggers." - -"They are not ungrateful; miserable they are, for they have had much -misery imposed upon them." - -"Oh, 'taint no use of talking 'bout it, child, go to sleep." - -"Yes, father, I shall soon sleep soundly enough, in our graveyard." - -Mr. Peterkin moved nervously in his chair, and young master continued, - -"I do not wish to live longer. I can do no good here, and the sight of -so much misery only makes me more wretched. Father, draw close to me, I -have lost a great deal of blood. My chest and throat are very sore. I -feel that the tide of life ebbs low. I am going fast. My little hour -upon earth is almost spent. Ere long, the great mystery of existence -will be known to me. A cold shadow, with death-dews on its form, hovers -round me. I know, by many signs unknown to others, that death is now -upon me. This difficult and labored speech, this failing breath and -filmy eye, these heavy night-sweats--all tell me that the golden bowl is -about to be broken: the silver cord is tightened to its utmost tension. -I am young, father; I have forborne to speak to you upon a subject that -has lain near, near, very near my heart." A violent paroxysm of coughing -here interrupted him. Instantly Miss Bradly was beside him with a -cordial, which he drank mechanically. "There," he continued, as he -poised himself upon his elbow, "there, good Miss Emily, cordials are of -no avail. I do not wish to stay. Father, do you not want me to rest -quietly in my grave?" - -"I don't want you to go to the grave at all, my boy, my boy," and Mr. -Peterkin burst into tears. - -"Yes, but, father, I am going there fast, and no human power can stay -me. I shall be happy and resigned, if I can elicit from you one -promise." - -"What promise is that?" - -"Liberate your slaves." - -"Never!" - -"Look at me, father." - -"Good God!" cried Mr. Peterkin, as his eye met the calm, clear, fixed -gaze of his son, "where did you get that look? heaven and h--l! it will -kill me;" and, rushing from the room, he sought his own apartment, where -he drank long and deeply from the black bottle that graced his -mantel-shelf. This was his drop of comfort. Always after lashing a -negro, he drank plentifully, as if to drown his conscience. Alas! many -another man has sought relief from memory by such libations! Yet these -are the voters, the noblesse, the lords so superior to the lowly -African. These are the men who vote for a perpetuation of our captivity. -Can we hope for a mitigation of our wrongs when such men are our -sovereigns? Cool, clear-visioned men are few, noble philanthropic ones -are fewer. What then have we to hope for? Our interests are at war with -old established usages. The prejudices of society are against us. The -pride of the many is adverse to us. All this we have to fight against; -and strong must be the moral force that can overcome it. - -Mr. Peterkin did not venture in young master's room for several hours -after; and not without having been sent for repeatedly. Meanwhile I -sought Amy, and found her lying on the floor of the cabin, with her face -downwards. She did not move when I entered, nor did she answer me when -I spoke. I lifted her up, but the hard, stony expression of her face, -frightened me. - -"Amy, I will be your friend." - -"I don't want any friend." - -"Yes you do, you like me." - -"No I don't, I doesn't like anybody." - -"Amy, God loves you." - -"I doesn't love Him." - -"Don't talk that way, child." - -"Well, you go off, and let me 'lone." - -"I wish to comfort you." - -"I doesn't want no comfort." - -"Come," said I, "talk freely to me. It will do you good." - -"I tells you I doesn't want no good for to happen to me. I'd rather be -like I is." - -"Amy," and it was with reluctance I ventured to allude to a subject so -painful; but I deemed it necessary to excite her painfully rather than -leave her in that granite-like despair, "you may yet have your sisters -and little brother restored to you." - -"How? how? and when?" she screamed with joy, and started up, her wild -eyes beaming with exultation. - -"Don't be so wild," I said, softly, as I took her little, hard hand, and -pressed it tenderly. - -"But, say, Ann, ken I iver git de chilen back? Has Masser said anything -'bout it? Oh, it 'pears like too much joy fur me to iver know any more. -Poor little Ben, it 'pears like I kan't do nothin' but hear him cry. And -maybe dey is a beatin' of him now. Oh, Lor' a marcy! what shill I do?" -and she rocked her body back and forward in a transport of grief. - -There are some sorrows for which human sympathy is unavailing. What to -that broken heart were words of condolence? Did she care to know that -others felt for her? that another heart wept for her grief? No, like -Rachel of old, she would not be comforted. - -"Oh, Ann!" she added, "please leave me by myself. It 'pears like I -kan't get my breath when anybody is by me. I wants to be by myself. Jist -let me 'lone for a little while, then I'll talk to you." - -I understood the feeling, and complied with her request. - -The slave is so distrustful of sympathy, he is so accustomed to -deception, that he feels secure in the indulgence of his grief only when -he is alone. The petted white, who has friends to cluster round him in -the hour of affliction, cannot understand the loneliness and solitude -which the slave covets as a boon. - -For several days young master lingered on, declining visibly. The hectic -flush deepened upon his cheek, and the glitter of his eye grew fearfully -bright, and there was that sharp contraction of his features that -denoted the certain approach of death. His cough became low and even -harder, and those dreadful night-sweats increased. He lay in a stupid -state, half insensible from the effects of sedatives. Dr. Mandy, who -visited him three times a day, did not conceal from Mr. Peterkin the -fact of his son's near dissolution. - -"Save his life, doctor, and you shall have all I own." - -"If my art could do it, sir, I would, without fee, exert myself for his -restoration." - -Yet for a poor old negro his art could do nothing unfeed. Do ye wonder -that we are goaded on to acts of desperation, when every day, nay, every -moment, brings to our eyes some injustice that is done us--and all -because our faces are dark? - - - "Mislike us not for our complexion, - The shadow'd livery of the burnish'd sun, - To whom we are as neighbors, and near bred; - Bring us the fairest creature Northward born, - Where Phoebus' fire scarce thaws the icicles, - And let us make incision for your love - To prove whose blood is reddest, his or ours." - - -During young master's illness I had but little communication with Amy. -By Miss Jane's order she had been brought into the house to assist in -the dining-room. I gave her all the instruction in my power. She -appeared to listen to me, and learned well; yet everything was done with -that vacant, unmeaning manner, that showed she felt no interest in what -she was doing. I had never heard her allude to "the children" since the -conversation just recorded. Indeed, she appeared to eschew all talk. At -night I had attempted to draw her into conversation, but she always -silenced me by saying, - -"I'm tired, Ann, and wants to sleep." - -This was singular in one so young, who had been reared in such a -reckless manner. I should have been better satisfied if she had talked -more freely of her sorrows; that stony, silent agony that seemed frozen -upon her face, terrified me more than the most volcanic grief; that -sorrow is deeply-rooted and hopeless, that denies itself the relief of -speech. Heaven help the soul thus cut off from the usual sources of -comfort. Oh, young Miss, spoiled daughter of wealth, you whose earliest -breath opened to the splendors of home in its most luxurious form; you -who have early and long known the watchful blessing of maternal love, -and whose soft cheek has flushed to the praises of a proud and happy -father, whose lip has thrilled beneath the pressure of a brother's kiss; -you who have slept upon the sunny slope of life, have strayed 'mid the -flowers, and reposed beneath the myrtles, and beside the fountains, -where fairy fingers have garlanded flowers for your brow, oh, bethink -you of some poor little negro girl, whom you often meet in your daily -walks, whose sad face and dejected air you have often condemned as -sullen, and I ask you now, in the name of sweet humanity, to judge her -kindly. Look, with a pitying eye, upon that face which trouble has -soured and abuse contracted. Repress the harsh word; give her kindness; -'tis this that she longs for. Be you the giver of the cup of cold water -in His name. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - -A CONVERSATION--HOPE BLOSSOMS OUT, BUT CHARLESTOWN IS FULL OF -EXCITABILITY. - - -One evening, during young master's illness, when he was able to sit up -beside the fire, Dr. Mandy came to see him, and, as I sat in his room, -sewing on some fancy work for Miss Jane, I heard the conversation that -passed between them. - -"Have you coughed much?" the doctor asked. - -"A great deal last night." - -"Do the night-sweats continue?" - -"Yes, sir, and are violent." - -"Let me feel your pulse. Here--it is very quick--face is flushed--high -fever." - -"Yes, doctor, I am sinking fast." - -"Oh, keep up your spirits. I have been thinking that the best thing for -you would be to take a trip to Havana. This climate is too variable for -your complaint." - -Young master shook his head mournfully. - -"The change of scene," the doctor went on, "would be of service to you. -A healthful excitement of the imagination, and a different train of -thought, would, undoubtedly, benefit you." - -"What in the South could induce a different train of thought? Oh, -doctor, the horrid system, that there flourishes with such rank power, -would only deepen my train of thought, and make me more wretched than I -am; I would not go near New Orleans, or pass those dreadful plantations, -even to secure the precious boon of health." - -"You will not see anything of the kind. You will only see life at -hotels; and there the slaves are all happy and well used. Besides, my -good boy, the negroes on the plantations are much better used than you -think; and I assure you they are very happy. If you could overhear them -laughing and singing of an evening, you would be convinced that they are -well cared for." - -"Ah, disguise thee as thou wilt, yet, Slavery, thou art horrid and -revolting." - -"You are morbid on the subject." - -"No, only humane; but have I not seen enough to make me morbid?" - -"These are subjects upon which I deem it best to say nothing." - -"That is the invariable argument of self-interest." - -"No, of prudence, Mr. John; I have no right to quarrel with and rail out -against an institution that has the sanction of the law, and which is -acceptable to the interests of my best friends and patrons." - -"Exactly so; the whole matter, so vital to the happiness of others, so -fraught with great humanitarian interests, must be quietly laid on the -shelf, because it may lose you or me a few hundred dollars." - -"Not precisely that either; but, granting, for the sake of hypothesis -only, that slavery is a wrong, what good would all my arguments do? -None, but rather an injury to the very cause they sought to benefit. You -must not exasperate the slave-holders. Leave them to time and their own -reflections. I believe many of the Western States--yes, Kentucky -herself--would at this moment be free from slavery, if it had not been -for the officious interference of the North. The people of the West and -South are hot, fiery and impetuous. They may be persuaded and coaxed -into a measure, but never driven. All this talk and gasconade of -Abolitionists have but the tighter bound the negroes." - -"I am sorry to hear you thus express yourself, for you give me a more -contemptible opinion of the Southern and Western men, or rather the -slave-holding class, than I had before. And so they are but children, -who must be coaxed, begged, and be-sugar-plumed into doing a simple act -of justice. Have they not the manhood to come out boldly, and say this -thing is wrong, and that they will no longer countenance it in their -midst; that they will, for the sake of justice and sympathy with -humanity, liberate these creatures, whom they have held in an unjust and -wicked bondage? Were they to act thus, then might they claim for -themselves the title of chevaliers." - -"Yes; but they take a different view of the subject; they look upon -slavery as just and right--a dispensation of Providence, and feel that -they are as much entitled to their slaves as another man is to his -house, carriage, or horse." - -"Oh, how they shut their hearts against the voice of misery, and close -their eyes to the rueful sigh of human grief. I never heard a -pro-slavery man who could, upon any reasonable ground, defend his -position. The slavery argument is not only a wicked, but an absurd one. -How wise men can be deluded by it I am at a loss to understand. -Infatuated they must be, else they could not uphold a system as -tyrannous as it is base." - -"Well, we will say no more upon this subject," said the doctor, as Mr. -Peterkin entered. - -"What's the matter?" the latter inquired, as he listlessly threw himself -into a chair. - -"Nothing, only Mr. John is not all right on the 'goose,'" replied Dr. -Mandy, with a facetious smile. - -"And not likely to be," said Mr. Peterkin; "Johnny has given me a great -deal of trouble 'bout this matter; but I hope he will outgrow it. 'Tis -only a foolish notion. He was 'lowed to gad 'bout too much with them ar' -devilish niggers, an' so 'bibed their quare ideas agin slavery. Now, in -my 'pinion, my niggers is a darned sight better off than many of them -poor whites at the North." - -"But are they as free?" asked young master. - -"No, to be sure they is not," and here Mr. Peterkin ejected from his -mouth an amount of tobacco-juice that nearly extinguished the fire. - -"Woe be unto the man who takes from a fellow-being the priceless right -of personal liberty!" exclaimed young master, with his fine eyes -fervently raised. - -"Yes, but everybody don't desarve liberty. Niggers ain't fit for to -govern 'emselves nohow. They has bin too long 'customed to havin' -masters. Them that's went to Libery has bin of no 'count to 'emselves -nor nobody else. I tell yer, niggers was made to be slaves, and yer -kan't change their Creator's design. Why, you see, doctor, a nigger's -mind is never half as good as a white man's;" and Mr. Peterkin conceived -this speech to be the very best extract of lore and sapience. - -"Why is not the African mind equal to the Caucasian?" inquired young -master, with that pointed naivete for which he was so remarkable. - -"Oh, it tain't no use, Johnny, fur you to be talkin' that ar' way. It's -all fine enoff in newspapers, but it won't do to bring it into practice, -'specially out here in the West." - -"No, father, I begin to fear that it is of no avail to talk common sense -and preach humanity in a community like this." - -"Don't talk any more on this subject," said the doctor; "I am afraid it -does Mr. John no particular good to be so painfully excited. I was going -to propose to you, Mr. Peterkin, to send him South, either on a little -coasting trip, or to Havana _via_ New Orleans. I think this climate is -too rigorous and uncertain for one of his frail constitution to remain -in it during the winter." - -"Well, doctor, I am perfectly willin' fur him to go, if I had anybody to -go with him; but you see it wouldn't be safe to trust him by himself. -Now an idee has jist struck me, which, if you'll agree to, will 'zackly -suit me. 'Tis for you to go 'long; then he'd have a doctor to rinder him -any sarvice he might need. Now Doct. if you'll go, I'll foot the bill, -and pay you a good bonus in the bargain." - -"Well, it will be a great professional sacrifice; but I'm willing to -make it for a friend like you, and for a patient in whose recovery or -improvement I feel so deeply interested." - -"Make no sacrifices for me, dear doctor; my poor wreck of life is not -worth a sacrifice; I can weather it out a little longer in this region. -It requires a stronger air than that of the tropics to restore strength -to my poor decayed lungs." - -"Yes, but you must not despond," said the doctor. - -"No, my boy, you musn't give up. You are too young to die. You are my -only son, and I can't spare you." Again Mr. Peterkin turned uneasily in -his chair. - -"But tell me, doctor," he added, "don't you think he is growin' -stronger?" - -"Why, yes I do; and if he will consent to go South, I shall have strong -hope of him." - -"He must consent," exclaimed Mr. Peterkin, with a decided emphasis. - -"You know my objection, doctor, yet I cannot oppose my wish against -father's judgment; so I will go, but 'twill be without the least -expectation of ever again seeing home." - -"Oh, don't, don't, my boy," and Mr. Peterkin's voice faltered, and his -eyes were very moist. - -"Idols of clay!" I thought, "how frail ye are; albeit ye are -manufactured out of humanity's finest porcelain, yet a rude touch, a -slight jar, and the beautiful fabric is destroyed forever!" - -Mr. Peterkin's treasure, his only son, was wasting slowly, inch by inch, -before his eyes--dying with slow and silent certainty. The virus was in -his blood, and no human aid could check its strides. The father looked -on in speechless dread. He saw the insidious marks of the incurable -malady. He read its ravages upon the broad white brow of his son, where -the pulsing veins lay like tightly-drawn cords; and on the hueless lip, -that was shrivelled like an autumn leaf; in the dilated pupil of that -prophet-like eye; in the fiery spot that blazed upon each hollow cheek; -and in the short, disturbed breathing that seemed to come from a brazen -tube; in all these he traced the omens of that stealthy disease that -robs us, like a thief in the night-time, of our richest treasures. - -"Well, my boy," began Mr. Peterkin, "you must prepare to start in the -course of a few days." - -"I am ready to leave at any moment, father; and, if we do not start -very soon, I am thinking you will have to consign me to the earth, -rather than send me on a voyage pleasure-hunting." - -A bright smile, though mournful as twilight's shadows, flitted over the -pale face of young master as he said this. - -"Why, Johnny, you are better this evening," said Miss Bradly, as she -entered the room, rushed up to him, and began patting him affectionately -on either cheek. - -"Yes, I am better, good Miss Emily; but still feeble, oh so feeble! My -spirits are better, but the restless fire that burns eternally here will -give me no rest," and he placed his hand over his breast. - -"Yes, but you must quench that fire." - -"Where is the draught clear and pure enough to quench a flame so -consuming?" - -"The dew of divine grace can do it." - -"Yes, but it descends not upon my dried and burnt spirit." - -Mr. Peterkin turned off, and affected to take no note of this little -colloquy, whilst Doctor Mandy began to chew furiously. - -The fact is, the Peterkin family had begun to distrust Miss Bradly's -principles ever since the day young master administered such a reproof -to her muffled conscience; and in truth, I believe she had half-declared -her opposition to the slave system; and they began to abate the fervor -of their friendship for her. The young ladies, indeed, kept up their -friendly intercourse with her, though with a modification of their -former warmth. - -I fancied that Miss Bradly looked happier, now that she had cast off -disguise and stood forth in her true character. That cloud of faltering -distrust that once hung round her like a filmy web, had been dissipated -and she stood out, in full relief, with the beautiful robe of truth -draping and dignifying her nature. Woman, when once she interests -herself in the great cause of humanity, goes to work with an ability and -ardor that put to shame the colder and slower action of man. The heart -and mind co-work, and thus a woman, as if by the dictate of inspiration, -will achieve with a single effort the mighty deed, for the attainment of -which men spend years in idle planning. Women have done much, and may -yet achieve more toward the emancipation and enfranchisement of the -world. The historic pages glitter with the noble acts of heroic -womanhood, and histories yet unwritten will, I believe, proclaim the -good which they shall yet do. Who but the Maid of Orleans rescued her -country? Whose hand but woman's dealt the merited death-blow to one of -France's bloodiest tyrants? In all times, she has been most loyal to the -highest good. Woman has ever been brave! She was the instrument of our -redemption, and the early watcher at the tomb of our Lord. To her heart -the Saviour's doctrine came with a special welcome message. And I now -believe that through her agency will yet come the political ransom of -the slaves! God grant it, and speed on the blessed day! - -I now looked upon Miss Bradly with the admiring interest with which I -used to regard her; and though I had never had from her an explanation -of the change or changes through which she had passed since that -memorable conversation recorded in the earlier pages of this book, I -felt assured from the fact that young master had learned to love her, -that all was right at the core of her heart; and I was willing to -forgive her for the timidity and vacillation that had caused her to play -the dissembler. The memorable example of the loving but weak Apostle -Peter should teach us to look leniently upon all those who cannot pass -safely through the ordeal of human contempt, without having their -principles, or at least actions, a little warped. Of course there are -higher natures, from whose fortitude the rack and the stake can provoke -nothing but smiles; but neither good St. Peter nor Miss Bradly were of -such material. - -"I am going to leave you very soon, Miss Emily." - -"And where are you going, John?" - -"They will send me to the South. As the poor slaves say, I'm going down -the river;" and a sweet smile flitted over that gentle face. - -"Who will accompany you?" - -"Father wishes Doctor Mandy to go; but I fear it will be too great a -professional sacrifice." - -"Oh, some one must go with you. You shall not go alone." - -"I do not wish to go at all. I shall see nothing in the South to please -me. Those magnificent plantations of rice, sugar, and cotton, those -lordly palaces, embowered in orange trees, those queenly magnolia -groves, and all the thousand splendors that cover the coast with -loveliness, will but recall to my mind the melancholy fact that -slave-labor produces the whole. I shall fancy that some poor -heart-broken negro man, or some hopeless mother or lonely wife watered -those fields with tears. Oh, that the dropping of those sad eyes had, -like the sowing of the dragon's teeth, produced a band of armed, -bristling warriors, strong enough to conquer all the tyrants and -liberate the captives!" - -"This can never be accomplished suddenly. It must be the slow and -gradual work of years. Like all schemes of reformation, it moves but by -inches. Wise legislators have proposed means for the final abolition of -slavery; but, though none have been deemed practicable, I look still for -the advent of the day when the great sun shall look goldenly down upon -the emancipation of this dusky tribe, and when the word slave shall -nowhere find expression upon the lips of Christian men." - -"When do you predict the advent of that millennial day?" - -"I fear it is far distant; yet is it pleasant to think that it will -come, no matter at how remote an epoch." - -"Distant is it only because men are not thoroughly Christianized. No man -that will willingly hold his brother in bondage is a Christian. -Moreover, the day is far off in the future, because of the ignorant -pride of men. They wish to send the poor negro away to the unknown land -from whence his ancestors were stolen. We virtually say to the Africans, -now you have cultivated and made beautiful our continent, we have no -further use for you. You have grown up, it is true, beneath the shadow -of our trees, you were born upon our soil, your early associations are -here. Your ignorance precludes you from the knowledge of the excellence -of any other land: yet for all this we take no care, it is our business -to drive you hence. Cross the ocean you must. Find a home in a strange -country; lay your broad shoulder to the work, and make for yourself an -interest there. What wonder is it, if the poor, ignorant negro shakes -his head mournfully, and says: "No, I would rather stay here; I am a -slave, it is true, but then I was born here, and here I will be buried. -I am tightly kept, have a master and a mistress, but then I know what -this is. Hard to endure, I grant it--but then it is known to me. I can -bear on a little longer, till death sets me free. No, this is my native -shore; here let me stay." Their very ignorance begets a kind of -philosophy that - - - "Makes them rather bear those ills they have, - Than fly to others that they know not of." - - -Now, why, I ask, have they not as much right to remain here as we have? -This is their birthplace as well as ours. We are, likewise, descendants -of foreigners. If we drive them hence, what excuse have we for it? Our -forefathers were not the aborigines of this country. As well might the -native red men say to us: "Fly, leave the Western continent, 'tis our -home; we will not let you stay here. You have cultivated it, now _we_ -will enjoy it. Go and labor elsewhere." What would we think of this? Yet -such is our line of conduct toward those poor creatures, who have toiled -to adorn our homes. Then again, we allow the Irish, Germans, and -Hungarians, to dwell among us. Why ban the African?" - -"These, my young friend, are questions that have puzzled the wisest -brains." - -"If it entered more into the hearts, and disturbed the brains less, it -would be better for them and for the slaves." - -"Now, come, Miss Emily, I'm tired of hearing you and that boy talk all -that nonsense. It's time you were both thinking of something else. You -are too old to be indulgin' of him in that ar' stuff. It will never -come to any good. Them ar' niggers is allers gwine to be slaves, and -white folks had better be tendin' to what consarns 'emselves." - -Such arguments as the foregoing were carried on every day. Meanwhile we, -who formed the subject of them, still went on in our usual way, half-fed -and half-clad, knocked and kicked like dogs. - -Amy went about her assigned work, with the same hard-set composure with -which she had begun. Talking little to any one, she tried to discharge -her duties with a docility and faithfulness very remarkable. Yet she -sternly rebuked all conversation. I made many efforts to draw her out -into a free, sociable talk, and was always told that it was not -agreeable to her. - -I now had no companionship among those of my own color. Aunt Polly was -in the grave; Amy wrapped in the silence of her own grief; and Sally -(the successor of Aunt Polly in the culinary department) was a sulky, -ignorant woman, who did not like to be sociable; and the men, with their -beastly instincts, were objects of aversion to me. So my days and nights -passed in even deeper gloom than I had ever before known. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - -THE SUPPER--ITS CONSEQUENCES--LOSS OF SILVER--A LONELY NIGHT--AMY. - - -The winter was now drawing to a close. The heavy, dreary winter, that -had hung like an incubus upon my hours, was fast drawing to an end. Many -a little, tuneful bird came chirping with the sunny days of the waning -February. Already the sunbeam had begun to give us a hint of the -spring-warmth; the ice had melted away, and the moistened roofs of the -houses began to smoke with the drying breath of the sun, and little -green pods were noticeable upon the dried branches of the forest trees. -It was on such a day, when the eye begins to look round upon Nature, and -almost expects to solve the wondrous phenomenon of vegetation, that I -was engaged arranging Miss Jane's wardrobe. I had just done up some -laces for her, and finished off a nice silk morning-dress. She was -making extensive preparations for a visit to the city of L. The -protracted rigors of the winter and her own fancied ill-health had -induced her to postpone the trip until the opening of spring. - -It was decided that I should accompany her as lady's maid; and the fact -is, I was desirous of any change from the wearying monotony of my life. - -Young master had been absent during the whole winter. Frequent letters -from Dr. Mandy (who had accompanied him) informed the family of his -slowly-improving health; yet the doctor stated in each communication -that he was not strong enough to write a letter himself. This alarmed -me, for I knew that he must be excessively weak, if he denied himself -the gratification of writing to his family. Miss Bradly came to the -house but seldom; and then only to inquire the news from young master. -Her principles upon the slavery question had become pretty well known in -the neighborhood; so her residence there was not the most pleasant. -Inuendoes, of a most insulting character, had been thrown out, highly -prejudicial to her situation. Foul slanders were in busy circulation -about her, and she began to be a taboed person. So I was not surprised -to hear her tell Miss Jane that she thought of returning to the North -early in the spring. I had never held any private conversation with her -since that memorable one; for now that her principles were known, she -was too much marked for a slave to be allowed to speak with her alone. -Her sorrowful face struck me with pity. I knew her to be one of that -time-serving kind, by whom the loss of caste and social position is -regarded as the most fell disaster. - -As I turned the key of Miss Jane's wardrobe, she came into the room, -with an unusually excited manner, exclaiming, - -"Ann, where is your Miss Tildy?" - -Upon my answering that I did not know, she bade me go and seek her -instantly, and say that she wished to speak with her. As I left the -room, I observed Miss Jane draw a letter from the folds of her dress. -This was hint enough. My mother-wit told me the rest. - -Finding Miss Tildy with a book, in a quiet corner of the parlor, I -delivered Miss Jane's message, and withdrew. The contents of Miss Jane's -letter soon became known; for it was, to her, of such an exciting -nature, that it could not be held in secresy. The letter was from Mr. -Summerville, and announced that he would pay her a visit in the course -of a few days. - -And, for the next "few days," the whole house was in a perfect -consternation. All hands were at work. Carpets were taken up, shaken, -and put down again with the "clean side" up. Paint was scoured, windows -were washed; the spare bedroom was re-arranged, and adjusted in style; -the French couch was overspread with Miss Tildy's silk quilt, that had -taken the prize at the Agricultural Fair; and fresh bouquets were -collected from the green-house, and placed upon the mantel. Everything -looked very nice about the house, and in the kitchen all sorts of -culinary preparations had gone on. Cakes, cookies, and confections had -been made in abundance. As Amy expressed it, in her quaintly comical -way, "Christmas is comin' again." It was the first and only time since -the departure of "the children," that I had heard her indulge in any of -her old drollery. - -At length the "day" arrived, and with it came Mr. Summerville. Whilst he -remained with us, everything went off in the way that Miss Jane desired. -There were fine dinners, with plenty of wine, roast turkey, curry -powder, desserts, &c. The silver and best china had been brought out, -and Mr. Peterkin behaved himself as well as he could. He even consented -to use a silver fork, which, considering his prejudice against the -article, was quite a concession for him to make. - -Time sped on (as it always will do), and brought the end of the week, -and with it, the end of Mr. Summerville's visit. I thought, from a -certain softening of Miss Jane's eye, and from the length of the parting -interview, that "_matters_" had been arranged between her and Mr. -Summerville. After the last adieu had been given, and Miss Jane had -rubbed her eyes enough with her fine pocket-handkerchief (or, perhaps, -in this case, it would be well to employ the suggestion of a modern -author, and say her "lachrymal,") I say, after all was over, and Mr. -Summerville's interesting form was fairly lost in the distance, Miss -Tildy proposed that they should settle down to their usual manner of -living. Accordingly, the silver was all rubbed brightly by Amy, whose -business it was, then handed over to Miss Tildy to be locked up in the -bureau. - -For a few weeks matters went on with their usual dullness. Master was -still smoking his cob-pipe, kicking negroes, and blaspheming; and Miss -Jane making up little articles for the approaching visit to the city. -She and Miss Tildy sat a great deal in their own room, talking and -speculating upon the coming joys. Passing in and out, I frequently -caught fragments of conversation that let me into many of their -secrets. Thus I learned that Miss Jane's chief object in visiting the -city was to purchase a bridal trousseau, that Mr. Summerville "had -proposed," and, of course, been accepted. He lived in the city; so it -was decided that, after the celebration of the nuptial rite, Miss Tildy -should accompany the bride to her new home, and remain with her for -several weeks. - -Sundry little lace caps were manufactured; handkerchiefs embroidered; -dresses made and altered; collars cut, and an immence deal of -"transfering" was done by the sisters Peterkin. - -We, of the "colored population," were stinted even more than formerly; -for they deemed it expedient to economize, in order to be the better -able to meet the pecuniary exigencies of the marriage. Thus time wore -along, heavily enough for the slaves; but doubtless delightful to the -white family. The enjoyment of pleasure, like all other prerogatives, -they considered as exclusively their own. - -Time, in its rugged course, had brought no change to Amy. If her heart -had learned to bear its bereavement better, or had grown more tender in -its anxious waiting, we knew it not from her word or manner. The same -settled, rocky look, the same abstracted air, marked her deportment. -Never once had I heard her laugh, or seen her weep. She still avoided -conversation, and was assiduous in the discharge of her domestic duties. -If she did a piece of work well, and was praised for it, she received -the praise with the same indifferent air; or if, as was most frequently -the case, she was harshly chided and severely punished, 'twas all the -same. No tone or word could move those rigid features. - -One evening Miss Bradly came over to see the young ladies, and inquire -the latest news from young master. Miss Jane gave orders that the table -should be set with great care, and all the silver displayed. They had -long since lost their olden familiarity, and, out of respect to the -present coldness that existed between them, they (the Misses Peterkin) -desired to show off "before the discredited school-mistress." I heard -Miss Bradly ask Mr. Peterkin when he heard from young master. - -"I've just got a letter from Dr. Mandy. They ar' still in New Orleans; -but expected to start for home in 'bout three days. The doctor gives me -very little cause for hope; says Johnny is mighty weak, and had a pretty -tough cough. He says the night-sweats can't be broke; and the boy is -very weak, not able to set up an hour at a time. This is very -discouragin', Miss Emily. Sometimes it 'pears like 'twould kill me, too, -my heart is so sot 'pon that boy;" and here Mr. Peterkin began to smoke -with great violence, a sure sign that he was laboring under intense -excitement. - -"He is a very noble youth," said Miss Bradly, with a quivering voice and -a moist eye; "I am deeply attached to him, and the thought of his death -is one fraught with pain to me. I hope Doctor Mandy is deceived in the -prognostics he deems so bad. Johnny's life is a bright example, and one -that is needed." - -"Yes, you think it will aid the Abolition cause; but not in this region, -I can assure you," said Miss Tildy, as she tossed her head knowingly. -"I'd like to know where Johnny learned all the Anti-slavery cant. Do you -know, Miss Emily, that your incendiary principles lost you caste in this -neighborhood, where you once stood as a model?" - -Miss Tildy had touched Miss Bradly in her vulnerable point. "Caste" was -a thing that she valued above reputation, and reckoned more desirable -than honor. Had it not been for a certain goodness of heart, from which -she could not escape (though she had often tried) she would have -renounced her Anti-slavery sentiments and never again avowed them; but -young master's words had power to rescue her almost shipwrecked -principles, and then, whilst smarting under the lash of his rebuke, she -attempted, like many an astute politician, to "run on both sides of the -question;" but this was an equivocal position that the "out and out" -Kentuckians were not going to allow. She had to be, in their distinct -phraseology, "one thing or the other;" and, accordingly, aided by young -master and her sense of justice, she avowed herself "the other." And, -of course, with this avowal, came the loss of cherished friends. In -troops they fell away from her. Their averted looks and distant nods -nearly drove her mad. If young master had been by to encourage and -sustain her with gracious words, she could have better borne it; but, -single-handed and alone, she could not battle against adversity. And now -this speech of Miss Tildy's was very untimely. She winced under it, yet -dared not reply. What a contemptible character, to the brave mind, seems -one lacking moral courage! - -"I want to see Johnny once again, and then I shall leave for the North," -said Miss Bradly, in a pitiful tone. - -"See Naples and die, eh?" laughed Miss Tildy. - -"Always and ever ready with your fun," replied Miss Bradly. - -At first her wiry turnings, her open and shameless sycophancy, and now -her cringing and fawning upon the Peterkins, caused me to lose all -respect for her. In the hour of her trouble, when deserted by those whom -she had loved as friends, when her pecuniary prospects were blighted, I -felt deeply for her, and even forgave the falsehood; but now when I saw -her shrink from the taunt and invective of Miss Tildy, and then minister -to her vanity, I felt that she was too little even for contempt. At tea, -that evening, whilst serving the table, I was surprised to observe Miss -Jane's face very red with anger, and her manner exceedingly irascible. I -began to wonder if I had done anything to exasperate her; but could -think of no offence of which I had been guilty. I knew from the way in -which she conversed with all at the table, that none of them were -offenders. I was the more surprised at her anger, as she had been, for -the last week, in such an excellent humor, getting herself ready for the -visit to the city. Oh, how I dreaded to see Miss Bradly leave, for then, -I knew the storm would break in all its fury! - -I was standing in the kitchen, alone, trying to think what could have -offended Miss Jane, when Amy came up to me, saying, - -"Oh, Ann, two silver forks is lost, an' Miss Tildy done 'cuse me of -stealin' 'em, an' I declar 'fore heaven, I gib ebery one of 'em to Miss -Tildy de mornin' Misser Summerbille lef, an' now she done told Miss Jane -dat I told a lie, and that I stole 'em. Lor' knows what dey is gwine to -do 'long wid me; but I don't kere much, so dey kills me soon and sets me -out my misery at once." - -"When did they miss the forks?" - -"Wy, to-night, when I went to set de table, I found dat two of 'em -wasn't dar; so I axed Miss Tildy whar dey was, an' she said she didn't -know. Den I axed Miss Jane; she say, 'ax Miss Tildy.' Den when I told -Miss Tildy dat, she got mad; struck me a lick right cross my face. Den I -told her bout de time Mr. Summerbille lef, when I give 'em to her. She -say, 'you's a liar, an' hab stole 'em.' Den I begun to declar I hadn't, -and she call Miss Jane, and say to her dat she knowed I hab stole 'em, -and Miss Jane got mad; kicked me, pulled my har till I screamed; den I -'spose she did 'ant want Miss Bradly to hear me; so she stopped, but -swar she'd beat me to death if I didn't get 'em fur her right off. Now, -Ann, I doesn't know whar dey is, if I was to be kilt for it." - -She drew the back of her hand across her eyes, and I saw that it was -moist. I was glad of this, for her silent endurance was more horrible to -look upon than this physical softness. - -"Oh, God!" I exclaimed, "I would that young master were here." - -"What fur, Ann?" - -"He might intercede and prevent them from using you so cruelly." - -"I doesn't wish he was har; for I lubs young Masser, an' he is good; if -he was to see me a sufferin' it wud stress him, an' make his complaint -worse; an' he couldn't do no good; for dey will beat me, no matter who -begs. Ob, it does seem so strange that black people was eber made. I is -glad dat de chillen isn't har; for de sight ob dem cryin' round de -'post,' wud nearly kill me. I can bar anythin' fur myself, but not fur -'em. Oh, I hopes dey is dead." - -And here she heaved a dreadful groan. This was the first time I had -heard her allude to them, and I felt a choking rush in my throat. - -"Don't cry, Ann, take kere ob yourself. It 'pears like my time has come. -I don't feel 'feard, an' dis is de fust time I'se eber bin able to speak -'bout de chillen. If eber you sees 'em, (I niver will), tell 'em dat I -niver did forget 'em; dat night an' day my mind was sot on 'em, an' -please, Ann, gib 'em dis." - -Here she took from her neck a string that held her mother's gift, and -the coin young master had given her, suspended to it. She looked at it -long and wistfully, then, slowly pressing it to her lips, she said in a -low, plaintive voice that went to my heart, "Poor Mammy." - -I then took it from her, and hid it in my pocket. A cold horror stole -over me. I had not the power to gainsay her; for an instinctive idea -that something terrible was going to occur, chained my lips. - -"Ann, I thanks you for all your kindness to me. I hopes you may hab a -better time den I has hab. I feel, Ann, as if I niver should come down -from dat post alive. - -"Trust in God, Amy." - -She shook her head despairingly. - -"He will save you." - -"No, God don't kare for black folks." - -"What did young master tell you about that? Did he not say God loved all -His creatures alike?" - -"Yes, but black folks aint God's critters." - -"Yes, they are, just as much as white people." - -"No dey aint." - -"Oh, Amy, I wish I could make you understand how it is." - -"You kant make me belieb dat ar' way, no how you can fix it. God don't -kare what a comes ob niggers; an' I is glad he don't, kase when I dies, -I'll jist lay down and rot like de worms, and dere wont be no white -folks to 'buse me." - -"No, there will be no white folks to abuse you in heaven; but God and -His angels will love you, if you will do well and try to get there." - -"I don't want to go ther, for God is one of the white people, and, in -course, he'd beat de niggers." - -Oh, was not this fearful, fearful ignorance? Through the solid rock of -her obtusity, I could, with no argument of mine, make an aperture for a -ray of heavenly light to penetrate. Do Christians, who send off -missionaries, realize that heathendom exists in their very midst; aye, -almost at their own hearthstone? Let them enlighten those that dwell in -the bonds of night on their own borders; then shall their efforts in -distant lands be blest. Numberless instances, such as the one I have -recorded, exist in the slave States. The masters who instruct their -slaves in religion, could be numbered; and I will venture to assert -that, if the census were taken in the State of Kentucky, the number -would not exceed twenty. Here and there you will find an instance of a -mistress who will, perhaps, on a Sunday evening, talk to a female slave -about the propriety of behaving herself; but the gist of the argument, -the hinge upon which it turns, is--"obey your master and mistress;" upon -this one precept hang all the law and the prophets. - -That night, after my house duties were discharged, I went to the cabin, -where I found Amy lying on her face, weeping bitterly. I lifted her up, -and tried to console her; but she exclaimed, with more energy than I had -ever heard her, - -"Ann, every ting seems so dark to me. I kan't see past to-morrow. I has -bin thinkin' of Aunt Polly; I keeps seein' her, no matter what way I -turns." - -"You are frightened," I ventured to say. - -"No, I isn't, but I feels curus." - -"Let me teach you to pray." - -"Will it do me any good?" - -"Yes, if you put faith in God." - -"What's faith?" - -"Believe that God is strong and willing to save you; that is faith." - -"Who is God? I never seed him." - -"No, but He sees you." - -"Whar is He?" and she looked fearfully around the room, in which the -scanty fire threw a feeble glare. - -"Everywhere. He is everywhere," I answered. - -"Is He in dis room?" she asked in terror, and drew near me. - -"Yes, He is here." - -"Oh lor! He may tell Masser on me." - -This ignorance may, to the careless reader, seem laughable; but, to me, -it was most horrible, and I could not repress my tears. Here was the -force of education. Master was to her the strongest thing or person in -existence. Of course she could not understand a higher power than that -which had governed her life. There are hundreds as ignorant; but no -missionaries come to enlighten them! - -"Oh, don't speak that way; you know God made you." - -"Yes, but dat was to please Masser. He made me fur to be a slave." - -Now, how would the religious slave-holder answer that? - -I strove, but with no success, to make her understand that over her -soul, her temporal master had no control; but her ignorance could not -see a difference between the body and soul. Whoever owned the former, -she thought, was entitled to the latter. Finding I could make no -impression upon her mind, I lay down and tried to sleep; but rest was an -alien to me. I dreaded the breaking of the morn. Poor Amy slept, and I -was glad that she did. Her overtaxed body yielded itself up to the most -profound rest. In the morning, when I saw her sleeping so soundly on the -pallet, I disliked to arouse her. I felt, as I fancied a human jailer -must feel, whose business it is to awaken a criminal on the morning of -his execution; yet I had it to do, for, if she had been tardy at her -work, it would have enraged her tyrants the more, and been worse for -her. - -Rubbing her eyes, she sat upright on the pallet and murmured, - -"Dis is de day. I's to be led to de post, and maybe kilt." - -I dared not comfort her, and only bade her to make haste and attend to -her work. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - -THE PUNISHMENT--CRUELTY--ITS FATAL CONSEQUENCE--DEATH. - - -At breakfast, Miss Jane shook her head at Amy, saying, - -"I'll settle accounts with you, presently." - -I wondered if that tremulous form, that stood eyeing her in affright, -did not soften her; but no, the "shaking culprit," as she styled Amy, -was the very creature upon whom she desired to deal swift justice. - -Pitiable was the sight in the kitchen, where Jake and Dan, great stout -fellows, were making their breakfasts off of scraps of meat, old bones -and corn-bread, whilst the aroma of coffee, broiled chicken, and -egg-cakes was wafted to them from the house-table. - -"I wish't I had somepin' more to eat," said Dan. - -"You's never satisfy," replied Sally, the cook; "you gits jist as much -as de balance, yit you makes de most complaints." - -"No I doesn't." - -"Yes, you does; don't he, Jake?" - -"Why, to be sartain he does," said Jake, who of late had agreed to live -with Sally as a wife. Of course no matrimonial rite was allowed, for Mr. -Peterkin was consistent enough to say, that, as the law did not -recognize the validity of negro marriages, he saw no use of the -tomfoolery of a preacher in the case; and this is all reasonable enough. - -"You allers takes Sal's part," said Dan, "now sense she has got to be -your wife; you and her is allers colloged together agin' de rest ov us." - -"Wal, haint I right for to 'tect my ole 'oman?" - -"Now, ha, ha!" cried Nace, as he entered, "de idee ob yer 'tectin' a -wife! I jist wisht Masser sell yer apart, den whar is yer 'tection ob -one anoder?" - -"Oh, dat am very different. Den I'd jist git me anoder ole 'oman, an' -she'd git her anoder ole man." - -"Sure an' I would," was Sally's reply; "hain't I done had five old men -already, an' den if Jake be sole, I'de git somebody else." - -"White folks don't do dat ar' way," interposed Dan, as he picked away at -a bone. - -"In course dey don't. Why should dey?" put in Nace. "Ain't dey our -Massers, and habn't dey dar own way in ebery ting?" - -"I wisht I'd bin born white," added Dan. - -"Ya, ya, dat is funny!" - -"Do de free colored folks live like de whites?" asked Sally. - -"Why, laws, yes; once when I went with Masser to L.," Nace began, "at de -tavern whar we put up, dar was a free collored man what waited on de -table, and anoder one what kipt barber-shop in de tavern. Wal, dey was -drest as nice as white men. Dar dey had dar standin' collar, and nice -cravat, and dar broadcloth, and dar white handkersher; and de barber, he -had some wool growin' on his upper lip jist like de quality men. Ya, ya, -but I sed dis am funny; so when I 'gin to talk jist as dough dey was -niggers same as I is, dey straighten 'emselves up and tell me dat I was -a speakin' to a gemman. Wal, says I, haint your faces black as mine? -Niggers aint gemmen, says I, for I thought I'd take dar airs down; but -den, dey spunk up and say dey was not niggers, but colored pussons, and -dey call one anoder Mr. Wal, I t'ought it was quare enoff; and more an' -dat, white folks speak 'spectable to 'em, jist same as dey war white. -Whole lot ob white gemmans come in de barber-shop to be shaved; and den -dey'd pay de barber, and maybe like as not, set down and talk 'long wid -him." - -There is no telling how long the garrulous Nace would have continued the -narration of what he saw in L--, had he not been suddenly interrupted -by the entrance of Miss Tildy, inquiring for Amy. - -Instantly all of them assumed that cheerful, smiling, sycophantic -manner, which is well known to all who have ever looked in at the -kitchen of a slaveholder. Amy stood out from the group to answer Miss -Tildy's summons. I shall never forget the expression of subdued misery -that was limned upon her face. - -"Come in the house and account for the loss of those forks," said Miss -Tildy, in the most peremptory manner. - -Amy made no reply to this; but followed the lady into the house. There -she was court-marshalled, and of course, found guilty of a high -misdemeanor. - -"Wal," said Mr. Peterkin, "we'll see if the 'post' can't draw from you -whar you've put 'em. Come with me." - -With a face the picture of despair, she followed. - -Upon reaching the post, she was fastened to it by the wrist and ankle -fetters; and Mr. Peterkin, foaming with rage, dipped his cowhide in the -strongest brine that could be made, and drawing it up with a flourish, -let it descend upon her uncovered back with a lacerating stroke. -Heavens! what a shriek she gave! Another blow, another and a deeper -stripe, and cry after cry came from the hapless victim! - -"Whar is the forks?" thundered Mr. Peterkin, "tell me, or I'll have the -worth out of yer cussed hide." - -"Indeed, indeed, Masser, I doesn't know." - -"You are a liar," and another and a severer blow. - -"Whar is they?" - -"I give 'em to Miss Jane, Masser, indeed I did." - -"Take that, you liar," and again he struck her, and thus he continued -until he had to stop from exhaustion. There she stood, partially naked, -bleeding at every wound, yet none of us dared go near and offer her even -a glass of cold water. - -"Has she told where they are?" asked Miss Tildy. - -"No, she says she give 'em to you." - -"Well, she tells an infamous lie; and I hope you will beat her until -pain forces her to acknowledge what she has done with them." - -"Oh, I'll git it out of her yet, and by blood, too." - -"Yes, father, Amy needs a good whipping," said Miss Jane, "for she has -been sulky ever since we took her in the house. Two or three times I've -thought of asking you to have her taken to the post." - -"Yes, I've noticed that she's give herself a good many ars. It does me -rale good to take 'em out of her." - -"Yes, father, you are a real negro-breaker. They don't dare behave badly -where you are." - -This, Mr. Peterkin regarded as high praise; for, whenever he related the -good qualities of a favorite friend, he invariably mentioned that he was -a "tight master;" so he smiled at his daughter's compliment. - -"Yes," said Miss Tildy, "whenever father approaches, the darkies should -set up the tune, 'See the conquering hero comes.'" - -"Good, first-rate, Tildy," replied Miss Jane. - -"'Till is a wit." - -"Yes, you are both high-larn't gals, a-head of yer pappy." - -"Oh, father, please don't speak in that way." - -"It was the fashion when I was edicated." - -"Just listen," they both exclaimed. - -"Jake," called out Mr. Peterkin, whose wrath was getting excited by the -criticisms of his daughters, "go and bring Amy here." - -In a few moments Jake returned, accompanied by Amy. The blood was oozing -through the body and sleeves of the frock that she had hastily thrown -on. - -"Whar's the spoons?" thundered out Mr. Peterkin. - -"I give 'em to Miss Tildy." - -"You are a liar," said Miss Tildy, as she dashed up to her, and struck -her a severe blow on the temple with a heated poker. Amy dared not parry -the blow; but, as she received it, she fell fainting to the floor. Mr. -Peterkin ordered Jake to take her out of their presence. - -She was taken to the cabin and left lying on the floor. When I went in -to see her, a horrid spectacle met my view! There she lay stretched upon -the floor, blood oozing from her whole body. I washed it off nicely and -greased her wounds, as poor Aunt Polly had once done for me; but these -attentions had to be rendered in a very secret manner. It would have -been called treason, and punished as such, if I had been discovered. - -I had scarcely got her cleansed, and her wounds dressed, before she was -sent for again. - -"Now," said Miss Tildy, "if you will tell me what you did with the -forks, I will excuse you; but, if you dare to say you don't know, I'll -beat you to death with this," and she held up a bunch of briery -switches, that she had tied together. Now only imagine briars digging -and scraping that already lacerated flesh, and you will not blame the -equivocation to which the poor wretch was driven. - -"Where are they?" asked Miss Jane, and her face was frightful as the -Medusa's. - -"I hid 'em under a barrel out in the back yard." - -"Well, go and get them." - -"Stay," said Miss Jane, "I'll go with you, and see if they are there." - -Accordingly she went off with her, but they were not there. - -"Now, where are they, _liar_?" she asked. - -"Oh, Miss Jane, I put 'em here; but I 'spect somebody's done stole 'em." - -"No, you never put them there," said Miss Tildy. "Now tell me where they -are, or I'll give you this with a vengeance," and she shook the briers. - -"I put 'em in my box in the cabin." - -And thither they went to look for them. Not finding them there, the -tortured girl then named some other place, but with as little success -they looked elsewhere. - -"Now," said Miss Tildy, "I have done all that the most humane or just -could demand; and I find that nothing but a touch of this can get the -truth from you, so come with me." She took her to the "lock-up," and -secured the door within. Such screams as issued thence, I pray heaven I -may never hear again. It seemed as if a fury's strength endowed Miss -Tildy's arm. - -When she came out she was pale from fatigue. - -"I've beaten that girl till I've no strength in me, and she has less -life in her; yet she will not say what she did with the forks." - -"I'll go in and see if I can't get it out of her," said Miss Jane. - -"Wait awhile, Jane, maybe she will, after a little reflection, agree to -tell the truth about it." - -"Never," said Miss Jane, "a nigger will never tell the truth till it is -beat out of her." So saying she took the key from Miss Tildy, and bade -me follow her. I had rather she had told me to hang myself. - -When she unlocked the door, I dared not look in. My eyes were riveted to -the ground until I heard Miss Jane say: - -"Get up, you hussy." - -There, lying on the ground, more like a heap of clotted gore than a -human being, I beheld the miserable Amy. - -"Why don't she get up?" inquired Miss Jane. I did not reply. Taking the -cowhide, she gave her a severe lick, and the wretch cried out, "Oh, -Lord!" - -"The Lord won't hear a liar," said Miss Jane. - -"Oh, what will 'come of me?" - -"_Death_, if you don't confess what you did with the forks." - -"Oh God, hab mercy! Miss Jane, please don't beat me any more. My poor -back is so sore. It aches and smarts dreadful," and she lifted up her -face, which was one mass of raw flesh; and wiping or trying to wipe the -blood away from her eyes with a piece of her sleeve that had been cut -from her body, she besought Miss Jane to have mercy on her; but the -spirit of her father was too strongly inherited for Jane Peterkin to -know aught of human pity. - -"Where are the forks?" - -"Oh, law! oh, law!" Amy cried out, "I swar I doesn't know anything 'bout -'em." - -Such blows as followed I have not the heart to describe; for they -descended upon flesh already horribly mangled. - -The poor girl looked up to me, crying out: - -"Oh, Ann, beg for me." - -"Miss Jane," I ventured to say; but the tigress turned and struck me -such a blow across the face, that I was blinded for full five minutes. - -"There, take that! you impudent hussy. Do you dare to ask me not to -punish a thief?" - -I made no reply, but withdrew from her presence to cleanse my face from -the blood that was flowing from the wound. - -As I bathed my face and bound it up, I wondered if acts such as these -had ever been reported to those clergymen, who so stoutly maintain that -slavery is just, right, _and almost_ available unto salvation. I cannot -think that they do understand it in all its direful wrongs. They look -upon the institution, doubtless, as one of domestic servitude, where a -strong attachment exists between the slave and his owner; but, alas! all -that is generally fabulous, worse than fictitious. I can fearlessly -assert that I never knew a single case, where this sort of feeling was -cherished. The very nature of slavery precludes the existence of such a -feeling. Read the legal definition of it as contained in the statute -books of Kentucky and Virginia, and how, I ask you, can there be, on the -slave's part, a love for his owner? Oh, no, that is the strangest -resort, the fag-end of argument; that most transparent fiction. Love, -indeed! The slave-master love his slave! Did Cain love Abel? Did Herod -love those innocents, whom, by a bloody edict, he consigned to death? In -the same category of lovers will we place the slave-owner. - -When Miss Jane had beaten Amy until _she_ was satisfied, she came, with -a face blazing, like Mars, from the "lock-up." - -"Well, she confesses now, that she put the forks under the corner of a -log, near the poultry coop." - -"Its only another one of her lies," replied Miss Tildy. - -"Well, if it is, I'll beat her until she tells the truth, or I'll kill -her." - -So saying, she started off to examine the spot. I felt that this was but -another subterfuge, devised by the poor wretch to gain a few moments' -respite. - -The examination proved, as I had anticipated, a failure. - -"What's to be done?" inquired Miss Tildy. - -"Leave her a few moments longer to herself, and then if the truth is not -obtained from her, kill her." These words came hissing though her -clenched teeth. - -"It won't do to kill her," said Miss Tildy. - -"I don't care much if I do." - -"We would be tried for murder." - -"Who would be our accusers? Who the witnesses? You forget that Jones is -not here to testify." - -"Ah, and so we are safe." - -"Oh, I never premeditate anything without counting the cost." - -"But then the loss of property!" - -"I'd rather gratify my revenge than have five hundred dollars, which -would be her highest market value." - -Tell me, honest reader, was not she, at heart, a murderess? Did she not -plan and premeditate the deed? Who were her accusers? That God whose -first law she had outraged; that same God who asked Cain for his slain -brother. - -"Now," said Miss Jane, after she had given the poor creature only a few -moments relief, "now let me go and see what that wretch has to say about -the forks." - -"More lies," added Miss Tildy. - -"Then her fate is sealed," said the human hyena. - -Turning to me, she added, in the most authoritative manner, - -"Come with me, and mind that you obey me; none of your impertinent -tears, or I'll give you this." - -And she struck me a lick across the shoulders. I can assure you I felt -but little inclination to do anything whereby such a penalty might be -incurred. Taking the key of the "lock up" from her pocket, she ordered -me to open the door. With a trembling hand I obeyed. Slowly the old, -rusty-hinged door swung open, and oh, heavens! what a sight it revealed! -There, in the centre of the dismal room, suspended from a spoke, about -three feet from the ground, was the body of Amy! Driven by desperation, -goaded to frenzy, she had actually hung herself! Oh, God! that fearful -sight is burnt in on my brain, with a power that no wave of Lethe can -ever wash out! There, covered with clotted blood, bruised and mangled, -hung the wretched girl! There, a bleeding, broken monument of the white -man's and white woman's cruelty! God of my sires! is there for us no -redress? And Miss Jane--what did she do? Why, she screamed, and almost -swooned with fright! Ay, too late it was to rend the welkin with her -cries of distress. She had done the deed! Upon her head rested the sin -of that freshly-shed blood! She was the real murderess. Oh, frightful -shall be her nights! Peopled with racks, execution-blocks, and ghastly -gallows-poles, shall be her dreams! At the lone hour of midnight, a wan -and bloody corse shall glide around her bed-side, and shriek into her -trembling ear the horrid word "murderess!" Let me still remain in -bondage, call me still by the ignoble title of slave, but leave me the -unbought and priceless inheritance of a stainless conscience. I am free -of murder before God and man. Still riot in your wealth; still batten on -inhumanity, women of the white complexion, but of the black hearts! I -envy you not. Still let me rejoice in a darker face, but a snowy, -self-approving conscience. - -Miss Jane's screams brought Mr. Peterkin, Miss Tildy and the servants to -her side. There, in front of the open door of the lock-up, they stood, -gazing upon that revolting spectacle! No word was spoken. Each regarded -the others in awe. At length, Mr. Peterkin, whose heartlessness was -equal to any emergency, spoke to Jake: - -"Cut down that body, and bury it instantly." - -With this, they all turned away from the tragical spot; but I, though -physically weak of nerve, still remained. That poor, bereaved girl had -been an object of interest to me; and I could not now leave her -distorted and lifeless body. Cold-hearted ones were around her; no -friendly eye looked upon her mangled corse, and I shuddered when I saw -Jake and Dan rudely handle the body upon which death had set its sacred -seal. - - - "One more unfortunate, - Weary of breath; - Rashly importunate, - Gone to her death. - - * * * * * - Swift to be hurled, - Anywhere, anywhere, - Out of the world." - - -This I felt had been her history! This should have been her epitaph; -but, alas for her, there would be reared no recording stone. All that -she had achieved in life was the few inches of ground wherein they laid -her, and the shovel full of dirt with which they covered her. Poor -thing! I was not allowed to dress the body for the grave. Hurriedly they -dug a hole and tossed her in. I was the only one who consecrated the -obsequies with funeral tears. A coarse joy and ribald jests rang from -the lips of the grave-diggers; but I was there to weep and water the -spot with tributary tears. - - - "Perishing gloomily, - Spurred by contumely, - Cold inhumanity, - Burning insanity, - Into her rest, - Cross her hands humbly, - As if praying dumbly, - Over her breast." - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. - -CONVERSATION OF THE FATHER AND SON--THE DISCOVERY; ITS -CONSEQUENCES--DEATH OF THE YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL. - - -Very lonely to me were the nights that succeeded Amy's death. I spent -them alone in the cabin. A strange kind of superstition took possession -of me! The room was peopled with unearthly guests. I buried my face in -the bed-covering, as if that could protect me or exclude supernatural -visitors. For two weeks I scarcely slept at all; and my constitution had -begun to sink under the over-taxation. This was all the worse, as Amy's -death entailed upon me a double portion of work. - -"What!" said Mr. Peterkin to me, one day, "are you agoin to die, too, -Ann? Any time you gits in the notion, jist let me know, and I'll give -you rope enough to do it." - -In this taunting way he frequently alluded to that fatal tragedy which -should have bowed his head with shame and remorse. - -Young master had returned, but not at all benefited by his trip. A deep -carnation was burnt into his shrivelled cheek, and he walked with a -feeble, tottering step. The least physical exertion would bring on a -violent paroxysm of coughing. The unnatural glitter of his eye, with its -purple surroundings, gave me great uneasiness; but he was the same -gentle, kind-spoken young master that he had ever been. His glossy, -golden hair had a dead, dry appearance; whilst his chest was fearfully -sunken; yet his father refused to believe that all these marks were the -heralds of the great enemy's approach. - -"The spring will cure you, my boy." - -"No, father, the spring is coming fast; but long before its flowers -begin to scent the vernal gales, I shall have passed through the narrow -gateway of the tomb." - -"No, it shall not be. All my money shall go to save you." - -"I am purchased, father, with a richer price than gold; the inestimable -blood of the Lamb has long since paid my ransom; I go to my father in -heaven." - -"Oh, my son! you want to go; you want to leave me. You do not love your -father." - -"Yes, I do love you, father, very dearly; and I would that you were -going with me to that lovely land." - -"I shill never go thar." - -"'Tis that fear that is killing me, father." - -"What could I, now, do to be saved?" - -"Believe in the Lord Jesus, and be baptized." - -"Is that all?" - -"Yes, that is all; but it embraces a good deal, dear father; a good deal -more than most persons deserve. In order to a perfect belief in the Lord -Jesus, you must act consistently with that belief. You must deal justly. -Abundantly give to the poor, and, above all, you must love mercy, and do -mercifully to all. Now I approach the great subject upon which I fear -you will stumble. You must," and he pronounced the words very slowly, -"liberate your slaves." There was a fair gleam from his eyes when he -said this. - -Mr. Peterkin turned uneasily in his chair. He did not wish to encourage -a conversation upon this subject. - -One evening, when it had been raining for two or three days, and the -damp condition of the atmosphere had greatly increased young master's -complaint, he called me to his bedside. - -"Ann," he said, in that deep, sepulchral tone, "I wish to ask you a -question, and I urge you not to deceive me. Remember I am dying, and it -will be a great crime to tell me a falsehood." - -I assured him that I would answer him with a faithful regard to truth. - -"Then tell me what occasioned Amy's death? Did she come to it by -violence?" - -I shall never forget the deep, penetrating glance that he fixed upon -me. It was an inquiry that went to my soul. I could not have answered -him falsely. - -Calmly, quietly, and without exaggeration, I told him all the -circumstances of her death. - -"Murder!" he exclaimed, "murder, foul and most unnatural!" - -I saw him wipe the tears from his hollow eyes, and that sunken chest -heaved with vivid emotion. - -Mr. Peterkin came in, and was much surprised to find young master so -excited. - -"What is the matter, my boy?" - -"The same old trouble, father, these unfortunate negroes." - -"Hang 'em; let them go to the d--l, at once. They are not worth all this -consarn on your part." - -"Father, they possess immortal souls, and are a part of Christ's -purchase." - -"Oh, that kind of talk does very well for preachers and church members." - -"It should do for all humanity." - -"I doesn't know what pity means whar a nigger is consarned." - -"And 'tis this feeling in you that has cost me my life." - -"Confound thar black hides. Every one of 'em that ever growed in Afriky -isn't worth that price." - -"Their souls are as precious in God's eyes as ours, and the laws of man -should recognize their lives as valuable." - -"Oh, now, my boy! don't talk any more 'bout it. It only 'stresses you -for nothing." - -"No, it distresses me for a great deal. For the value of -Christ-purchased souls." - -Mr. Peterkin concluded the argument as he usually did, when it reached a -knotty point, by leaving. All that evening I noticed that young master -was unusually restless and feverish. His mournful eyes would follow me -withersoever I moved about the room. From the constant and earnest -movement of his lips, I knew that he was engaged in prayer. - -When Miss Bradly came in and looked at him, I thought, from the -frightened expression of her face, that she detected some alarming -symptoms. This apprehension was confirmed by the manner of Dr. Mandy. -All the rest of the evening I wandered near Miss Bradly and the doctor, -trying to catch, from their conversation, what they thought of young -master's condition; but they were very guarded in what they said, well -knowing how acutely sensitive Mr. Peterkin was on the subject. Miss Jane -and Miss Tildy did not appear in the least anxious or uneasy about him. -They sewed away upon their silks and laces, never once thinking that the -angel of death was hovering over their household and about to snatch -from their embrace one of their most cherished idols. Verily, oh, Death, -thou art like a thief in the night; with thy still, feline tread, thou -enterest our chambers and stealest our very breath away without one -admonition of thy coming! - -But not so came he to young master. As a small-voiced angel, with -blessings concealed beneath his shadowy wing, he came, the herald of -better days to him! As a well-loved bridegroom to a waiting bride, was -the angel of the tombs to that expectant spirit! 'Twas painful, yet -pleasant, to watch with what patient courage he endured bodily pain. -Often, unnoticed by him, did I watch, with a terrible fascination, the -heroic struggle with which he wrestled with suffering and disease. Sad -and piteous were the shades and inflections of severe agony that passed -over his noble face! I recall now with sorrow, the memory of that time! -How well, in fancy, can I see him, as he lay upon that downy bed, with -his beautiful gold hair thrown far back from his sunken temples, his -blue, upturned eyes, fringed by their lashes of fretted gold, and those -pale, thin hands that toyed so fitfully with the drapery of the couch, -and the restless, loving look which he so frequently cast upon each of -the dear ones who drew around him. It must be that the "sun-set of life" -gives us a keener, quicker sense, else why do we love the more fondly as -the curtain of eternity begins to descend upon us? Surely, there must be -a deeper, undeveloped sense lying beneath the surface of general -feeling, which only the tightening of life's cords can reveal! He grew -gentler, if possible, as his death approached. Very heavenly seemed he -in those last, most trying moments! All that had ever been earthly of -him, began to recede; the fleshly taints (if there were any) grew -fainter and fainter, and the glorious spiritual predominated! Angel more -than mortal, seemed he. The lessons which his life taught me have sunk -deep in my nature; and I can well say, "it was good for him to have been -here." - -It was a few weeks after the death of Amy, when Miss Tildy was -overlooking the bureau that contained the silver and glass ware, she -gave a sudden exclamation, that, without knowing why, startled me very -strangely. A thrill passed over my frame, an icy contraction of the -nerves, and I knew that something awful was about to be revealed. - -"What _is_ the matter with you?" asked Miss Jane. - -Still she made no reply, but buried her face in her hands, and remained -thus for several minutes; when she did look up, I saw that something -terrible was working in her breast. "Culprit," was written all over her -face. It was visible in the downcast terror of her eye, and in the -blanched contraction of the lips, and quivered in the dilating nostril, -and was stamped upon the whitening brow! - -"What ails you, Tildy?" again inquired her sister. - -"_Why, look here!_" and she held up, to my terror, the two missing -forks! - -Oh, heavens! and for her own carelessness and mistake had Amy been -sacrificed? I make no comment. I merely state the case, and leave others -to draw their own conclusions. Yet, this much I will add, that there -were no Caucasian witnesses to the bloody deed, therefore no legal -cognizance could be taken of it! Most noble and righteous American laws! -Who that lives beneath your shelter, would dare to say they are not wise -and sacred as the laws of the Decalogue? Thrice a day should their -authors go up into the Temple, and thank our Lord that they are not like -publicans and sinners. - -One evening--oh! I shall long remember it, as one full of sacredness, -full of sorrow, and yet tinged with a hue of heaven! It was in the deep, -delicious beauty of the flowering month of May. The twilight was -unusually red and refulgent. The evening star shone like the full eye of -love upon the dreamy earth! The flowers, each with a dew-pearl -glittering on its petals, lay lulled by the calm of the hour. Young -master, fair saint, lay on his bed near the open window, through which -the scented gales stole sweetly, and fanned his wasted cheek! Thick and -hard came his breath, and we, who stood around him, could almost see the -presence of the "monster grim," whose skeleton arms were fast locking -him about! - -Flitting round the bed, like a guardian spirit, was Miss Bradly, whilst -her tearful eye never wandered for an instant from that face now growing -rigid with the kiss of death! Miss Jane stood at the head of the bed -wiping the cold damps from his brow, and Miss Tildy was striving to -impart some of her animal warmth to his icy feet. Mr. Peterkin sat with -one of those thin hands grasped within his own, as if disputing and -defying the advance of that enemy whom no man is strong enough to -baffle. - -Slowly the invalid turned upon his couch, and, looking out upon the -setting sun, he heaved a deep sigh. - -"Father," he said, as he again turned his face toward Mr. Peterkin, who -still clasped his hand, "do you not know from my failing pulse, that my -life is almost spent?" - -"Oh, my boy, it is too, too hard to give you up." - -"Yet you _must_ nerve yourself for it. - -"I have no nerve to meet this trouble." - -"Go to God, He will give you ease." - -"I want Him to give me you." - -"Me He lent you for a little while. Now He demands me at your hands, and -His requisition you must obey." - -"Oh, I won't give up; maybe you'll yet be spared to me." - -"No, God's decree it is, that I should go." - -"It cannot, shall not be." - -"Father, father, you do but blaspheme." - -"I will do anything rather than see you die." - -"I am willing to die. I have only one request to make of you. Will you -grant it? If you refuse me, I shall die wretched and unhappy." - -"I will promise you anything." - -"But will you keep your promise?" - -"Yes, my boy." - -"Do you promise most faithfully?" - -"I do." - -"Then promise me that you will instantly manumit your slaves." - -Mr. Peterkin hesitated a moment. - -"Father, I shall not die happy, if you refuse me." - -"Then I promise faithfully to do it." - -A glad smile broke over the sufferer's face, like a sunbeam over a -snow-cloud. - -"Now, at least I can die contentedly! God will bless your effort, and a -great weight has been removed from my oppressed heart." - -Dr. Mandy now entered the room; and, taking young master's hand within -his own, began to count the pulsations. A very ominous change passed -over his face. - -"Oh, doctor," cried the patient, "I read from your countenance the -thoughts that agitate your mind; but do not fear to make the disclosure -to my friends even here. It will do me no harm. I know that my hours are -numbered; but I am willing, nay, anxious to go. Life has been one round -of pain, and now, as I am about to leave the world, I take with me a -blessed assurance that I have not lived in vain. Doctor, I call upon -you, and all the dear ones here present, to witness the fact that my -father has most solemnly promised me to liberate each of his slaves and -never again become the holder of such property? Father, do you not -promise before these witnesses?" - -"I do, my child, I do," said the weeping father. - -"Sisters," continued young master, "will you promise to urge or offer -no objection to the furtherance of this sacred wish of your dying -brother?" - -"I do," "I do," they simultaneously exclaimed. - -"And neither of you will ever become the owner of slaves?" - -"Never," "never," was the stifled reply. - -"Come, now, Death, for I am ready for thee!" - -"You have exerted yourself too much already," said the doctor, "now pray -take this cordial and try to rest; you have overtaxed your power. Your -strength is waning fast." - -"No, doctor, I cannot be silent; whilst I've the strength, pray let me -talk. I wish this death-bed to be an example. Call in the servants. Let -me speak with them. I wish to devote my power, all that is left of me -now, to them." - -To this Mr. Peterkin and the doctor objected, alleging that his life -required quiet. - -"Do not think of me, kind friends, I shall soon be safe, and am now -well-cared for. If I did not relieve myself by speech, the anxiety would -kill me. As a kind favor, I beg that you will not interrupt me. Call the -good servants." - -Instantly they all, headed by Nace, came into the chamber, each weeping -bitterly. - -"Good friends," he began, and now I noticed that his voice was weak and -trembling, "I am about to leave you. On earth you will never see me -again; but there is a better world, where I trust to meet you all. You -have been faithful and attentive to me. I thank you from the bottom of -my soul for it, and, if ever I have been harsh or unkind to you in any -way, I now beg that you will forgive me. Do not weep," he continued, as -their loud sobs began to drown his feeble voice. "Do not weep, I am -going to a happy home, where trouble and pain will never harm me more. -Now let me tell you, that my father has promised me that each of you -shall be free immediately after my death." - -This announcement was like a panic to the poor, broken-spirited -wretches. They looked wonderingly at young master, and then at each -other, never uttering a word. - -"Come, do not look so bewildered. Ah, you do not believe me; but, good -as is this news, it is true; is it not, father?" - -"Yes, my son, it is true." - -When Mr. Peterkin spoke, they simultaneously started. That voice had -power to recall them from the wildest dream of romance. Though softened -by sorrow and suffering, there was still enough of the wonted harshness -to make those poor wretches know it was Mr. Peterkin who spoke, and they -quaked with fear. - -"In the new home and new position in life, which you will take, my -friends, I hope you will not forget me; but, above all things, try to -save your souls. Go to church; pray much and often. Place yourselves -under God's protection, and all will be right. You, Jake, had better -select as an occupation that of a farmer, or manager of a farm for some -one of those wealthy but humane men of the Northern States. You, Dan, -can make an excellent dray driver; and at that business, in some of the -Northern cities, you would make money. Sally can get a situation as -cook; and Ann, where is Ann?" he said, as he looked around. - -I stepped out from a retired corner of the room, into which I had shrunk -for the purpose of indulging my grief unobserved. - -"Don't weep, Ann," he began; "you distress me when you do so. You ought, -rather, to rejoice, because I shall so soon be set free from this -unhappy condition. If you love me, prepare to meet me in heaven. This -earth is not our home; 'tis but a transient abiding-place, and, to one -of my sensitive temperament, it has been none the happiest. I am glad -that I am going; yet a few pangs I feel, in bidding you farewell; but -think of me only as one gone upon a pleasant journey from snow-clad -regions to a land smiling with tropic beauty, rich in summer bloom and -vocal with the melody of southern birds! Think of me as one who has -exchanged the garments of a beggar for the crown of a king and the -singing-robes of a prophet. I hope you will do well in life, and I would -advise that you improve your education, and then become a teacher. You -are fitted for that position. You could fill it with dignity. Do all -you can to elevate the mind as well as manners of your most unfortunate -race. And now, poor old Nace, what pursuit must I recommend to you?" -After a moment's pause, he added with a smile, "I will point out none; -for you are Yankee enough, Nace, to get along anywhere." - -He then requested that we should all kneel, whilst he besought for us -and himself the blessings of Divine grace. - -I can never forget the words of that beautiful prayer. How like fairy -pearls they fell from his lips! And I do not think there was a single -heart present that did not send out a fervent response! It seemed as if -his whole soul were thrown into that one burning appeal to heaven. His -mellow eyes grew purple in their intense passionateness; his pale lip -quivered; and the throbbing veins, that wandered so blue and beautifully -through his temples, were swollen with the rapid tide of emotion. - -As we rose from our knees, he elevated himself upon his elbow, and -looking earnestly at each one of us, said solemnly, - -"God bless all of you!" then sank back upon the pillow; a bright smile -flitted over his face, and he held his hand out to Miss Bradly, who -clasped it lovingly. - -"Good-bye, kind friend," he murmured, "never forsake the noble -Anti-slavery cause. Cling to it as a rock and anchor of safety. -Good-bye, and God bless you." - -He then gave his other hand to Dr. Mandy, but, in attempting to speak, -he was checked by a violent attack of coughing, and blood gushed from -his mouth. The doctor endeavored to arrest the flow, but in vain; the -crimson tide, like a stream broken loose from its barrier, flowed with a -stifling rush. - -Soon we discovered, from the ghastly whiteness of the patient's face, -and the calm, set stare of the eyes, that his life was almost gone. Oh, -God! how hard, pinched and contracted appeared those once beauteous -features! How terrible was the blank fixedness of those blue orbs! No -motion of the hand could distract their look. - -"Heavens!" cried Miss Jane, "his eyes are set!" - -"No, no," exclaimed Mr. Peterkin, and with many gestures, he attempted -to draw the staring eyes away from the object upon which they were -fastened; but vain were all his endeavors. He had no power to call back -a parting spirit; he, who had sent others to an unblest grave, could not -now breathe fresh vigor into a frame over which Death held his skeleton -arm. Where was Remorse, the unsleeping fiend, in that moment? - -I was looking earnestly at young master's face, when the great change -passed over it. I saw Dr. Mandy slowly press down the marble eye-lids -and gently straighten the rigid limbs; then, very softly turning to the -friends, whose faces were hidden by their clasped hands, he murmured, - -"All is over!" - -Great heaven! what screams burst from the afflicted family. - -Mr. Peterkin was crazy. His grief knew no bounds! He raved, he tore his -hair, he struck his breast violently, and then blasphemed. He did -everything but pray. And that was a thing so unfamiliar to him, that he -did not know how to do it. Miss Jane swooned, whilst Miss Tildy raved -out against the injustice of Providence in taking her brother from her. - -Miss Bradly and I laid the body out, dressed it in a suit of pure white, -and filletted his golden curls with a band of white rose-buds. Like a -gentle infant resting in its first, deep sleep, lay he there! - -After spreading the snowy drapery over the body, Miss Bradly covered all -the furniture with white napkins, giving to the room the appearance of a -death-like chill. There were no warm, rosy, life-like tints. Upon -entering it, the very heart grew icy and still. The family, one by one, -retired to their own apartments for the indulgence of private and sacred -grief! - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - -THE FUNERAL--MISS BRADLY'S DEPARTURE--THE DISPUTE--SPIRIT QUESTIONS. - - -When I entered the kitchen, I found the servants still weeping -violently. - -"Poor soul," said Sally, "he's at rest now. If he hain't gone to heaven, -'taint no use of havin' any; fur he war de best critter I iver seed. He -never gived me a cross word in all his life-time. Oh, Lord, he am gone -now!" - -"I 'members de time, when Mister Jones whipt me, dat young masser comed -to me wid some grease and rubbed me all over, and talked so kind to me. -Den he tell me not to say nothin' 'bout it, and I niver did mention it -from dat day until dis." - -"Wal, he was mighty good," added Jake, "and I's sorry he's dead." - -"I'se glad he got us our freedom afore he died. I wonder if we'll git -it?" asked Nace, who was always intent upon selfishness. - -"Laws! didn't he promise? Den he mus' keep his word," added Jake. - -I made no comment. My thoughts upon the subject I kept locked in the -depths of my own bosom. I knew then, as now, that natures like Mr. -Peterkin's could be changed only by the interposition of a miracle. He -had now shrunk beneath the power of a sudden blow of misfortune; but -this would soon pass away, and the savage nature would re-assert itself. - -All that gloomy night, I watched with Miss Bradly and Dr. Mandy beside -the corpse. Often whilst the others dozed, would I steal to the bed and -turn down the covering, to gaze upon that still pale face! Reverently I -placed my hand upon that rich golden head, with its band of flowers. - -There is an angel-like calm in the repose of death; a subdued awe that -impresses the coldest and most unbelieving hearts! As I looked at that -still body, which had so lately been illumined by a radiant soul, and -saw the noble look which the face yet wore, I inwardly exclaimed, 'Tis -well for those who sleep in the Lord! - -All that long night I watched and waited, hoped and prayed. The deep, -mysterious midnight passed, with all its fearful power of passion and -mystery; the still, small hours glided on as with silver slippers, and -then came the purple glory of a spring dawn! I left the chamber of -death, and went out to muse in the hazy day-break. And, as I there -reflected, my soul grew sick and sore afraid. One by one my friends had -been falling around me, and now I stood alone. There was no kind voice -to cheer me on; no gentle, loving hand stretched forth to aid me; no -smile of friendship to encourage me. In the thickest of the fight, -unbucklered, I must go. Up the weary, craggy mountain I must climb. The -burning sands I must tread alone! What wonder that my spirit, weak and -womanly, trembled and turned away, asking for the removal of the cup of -life! Only the slave can comprehend the amount of agony that I endured. -He alone who clanks the chain of African bondage, can know what a cloud -of sorrow swept over my heart. - -I saw the great sun rise, like a blood-stained gladiator, in the East, -and the diamond dew that glittered in his early light. I saw the roses -unclose fragrantly to his warming call; yet my heart was chill. Through -the flower-decked grounds I walked, and the aroma of rarest blooms -filled my senses with delight, yet woke no answering thrill in my bosom. -Must it not be wretchedness indeed, when the heart refuses to look -around upon blooming, vernal Nature, and answer her with a smile of -freshness? - -A little after daylight I re-entered the house, and found Miss Bradly -dozing in a large arm-chair, with one hand thrown upon the cover of the -bed where lay young master's body. Dr. Mandy was outstretched upon the -lounge in a profound sleep. The long candles had burnt very low in the -sockets, and every now and then sent up that flicker, which has been so -often likened to the struggles of expiring humanity. I extinguished -them, and closed the shutters, to exclude the morning rays that would -else have stolen in to mar the rest of those who needed sleep. Then -returning to the yard, I culled a fresh bouquet and placed it upon the -breast of the dead. Gently touching Miss Bradly, I roused her and begged -that she would seek some more comfortable quarters, whilst I watched -with the body. She did so, having first imprinted a kiss upon the brow -of the heavenly sleeper. - -When she withdrew, I took from my apron a bundle of freshly-gathered -flowers, and set about weaving fairy chains and garlands, which I -scattered in fantastic profusion over and around the body. - -A beautiful custom is it to decorate the dead with fresh flowers! There -is something in the delicate, fairy-like perfume, and in the magical -shadings and formation of flowers, that make them appropriate offerings -to the dead. Strange mystical things that they are, seemingly instinct -with a new and inchoate life; breathing in their heavenly fragrance of a -hidden blessing, telling a story which our dull ears of clay can never -comprehend. Symbols of diviner being, expressions of quickening beauty, -we understand ye not. We only _feel_ that ye are God's richest blessing -to us, therefore we offer ye to our loved and holy dead! - -When the broad daylight began to beam in through the crevices of the -shutters, and noise of busy life sounded from without, the family rose. -Separately they entered the room, each turning down the spread, and -gazing tearfully upon the ghastly face. Often and often they kissed the -brow, cheek, and lips. - -"How lovely he was in life," said Miss Jane. - -"Indeed he was, and he is now an angel," replied Miss Tildy, with a -fresh gush of emotion. - -"My poor, poor boy," said Mr. Peterkin, as he sank down on the bed -beside the body; "how proud I was of him. I allers knowed he'd be tuck -'way from me. He was too putty an' smart an' good fur this world. My -heart wus so sot on him! yit sometimes he almost run me crazy. I don't -think it was just in Providence to take my only boy. I could have better -spared one of the gals. Oh, tain't right, no how it can be fixed." - -And thus he rambled on, perfectly unconscious of the bold blasphemy -which he was uttering with every breath he drew. To impugn the justice -of his Maker's decrees was a common practice with him. He had so long -rejoiced in power, and witnessed the uncomplaining vassalage of slaves, -that he began to regard himself as the very highest constituted -authority! This is but one of the corrupting influences of the -slave-system. - -That long, wearing day, with its weight of speechless grief, passed at -last. The neighbors came and went. Each praised the beauty of the -corpse, and inquired who had dressed it. At length the day closed, and -was succeeded by a lovely twilight. Another night, with its star-fretted -canopy, its queenly, slow-moving moon, its soft aromatic air and pearly -dew. And another gray, hazy day-break, yet still, as before, I watched -near the dead. But on the afternoon of this day, there came a long, -black coffin, with its silver plate and mountings; its interior -trimmings of white satin and border of lace, and within this they laid -the form of young master! His pale, fair hands were crossed prayerfully -upon his breast; and a fillet of fresh white buds bound his smooth brow, -whilst a large bouquet lay on his breast, and the wreaths I had woven -were thrown round him and over his feet. Then the lid was placed on and -tightly screwed down. Then came the friends and neighbors, and a good -man who read the Bible and preached a soothing and ennobling sermon. The -friends gave one more look, another, a longer and more clinging kiss, -then all was over. The slow procession followed after the vehicle that -carried the coffin, the servants walking behind. Poor, uncared-for -slaves, as we were, we paid a heart-felt tribute to his memory, and -watered his new-made grave with as sincere tears as ever flowed from -eyes that had looked on happier times. - -I lingered until long after the last shovel-full of dirt was thrown -upon him. Others, even his kindred, had left the spot ere I turned away. -That little narrow grave was dearer and nearer to me, as there it lay so -fresh and damp, shapen smoothly with the sexton's spade, than when, -several weeks after, a patrician obelisk reared its Parian head towards -the blue sky. I have always looked upon grave-monuments as stony -barriers, shutting out the world from the form that slowly moulders -below. When the wild moss and verdant sward alone cover the grave, 'tis -easy for us to imagine death only a sleep; but the grave-stone, with its -carvings and frescoes, seems a sort of prison, cold and grim in its -aristocratic splendor. For the grave of those whom I love, I ask no -other decoration than the redundant grass, the enamelled mosaic of wild -flowers, a stream rolling by with its dirge-like chime, a weeping -willow, and a moaning dove. - -The shades of evening were falling darkly ere I left the burial-ground. -There, amid the graves of his ancestors, beside the tomb of his mother, -I left him sleeping pleasantly. "Life's fitful fever over," his calm -soul rests well. - - * * * * * * * - -In a few weeks after his death, the family settled back to their -original manner of life. Mr. Peterkin grew sulky in his grief. He chewed -and drank incessantly. The remonstrances of his daughters had no effect -upon him. He took no notice of them, seemed almost to ignore their -existence. Feeding sullenly on his own rooted sorrow, he cared nothing -for those around him. - -We, the servants, had been allowed a rather better time; for as he was -entirely occupied with his own moody reflections, he bestowed upon us no -thought. Yet we had heard no word about his compliance with the sacred -promise he had made to the dead. Did he feel no touch of remorse, or was -he so entirely sold to the d--l, as to be incapable of regret? - -The young ladies had been busy making up their mourning, and took but -little notice of domestic affairs. Miss Jane concluded to postpone her -visit to the city, on account of their recent bereavement; but later in -the summer, she proposed going. - -One afternoon, several weeks after the burial of young master, Miss -Bradly came over to see the ladies, for the purpose, as she said, of -bidding them farewell, as early on the following morning she expected to -start North, to rejoin her family, from whom she had been so long -separated. Miss Jane received the announcement with her usual haughty -smile; and Miss Tildy, who was rather more of a hypocrite, expressed -some regret at parting from her old teacher. - -"I fear, dear girls, that you will soon forget me. I hoped that an -intimate friendship had grown up between us, which nothing could -destroy; but it seems as if, in the last half-year, you have ceased to -love me, or care for me." - -"I can only answer for myself, dear Miss Bradly," said Miss Tildy, "and -I shall ever gratefully and fondly remember you, and my interesting -school-days." - -"So shall I pleasantly recollect my school-hours, and Miss Bradly as our -preceptress; and, had she not chosen to express and defend those awfully -disgraceful and incendiary principles of the North, I should have -continued to think of her with pleasure." Miss Jane said this with her -freezing air of hauteur. - -"But I remained silent, dear Jane, for years. I lived in your midst, in -the very families where slave-labor was employed; yet I molested none. I -did not inveigh against your peculiar domestic institution; though, -Heaven knows, every principle of my nature cried out against it. Surely -for all this I deserve some kind consideration." - -"'Tis a great pity your prudence did not hold out to the last; and I can -assure you 'tis well for the safety of your life and person that you -were a woman, else would it have gone hard with you. Kited through the -streets with a coat of tar and a plumage of hen-feathers, you would have -been treated to a rail-ride, none the most complimentary." Here Miss -Jane laughed heartily at the ridiculous picture she had drawn. - -Miss Bradly's face reddened deeply as she replied: - -"And all this would have been inflicted upon me because I dared to have -an opinion upon a subject of vital import to this our proud Republic. -This would have been the gracious hospitality, which, as chivalry-loving -Southerners, you would have shown to a stranger from the North! If this -be your mode and manner of carrying out the Comity of States, I am -heartily glad that I am about returning to the other side of the -border." - -"And we give you joy of your swift return. Pray, tell all your Abolition -friends that such will be their reception, should they dare to venture -among us." - -"Yet, as with tearful eyes you stood round your brother's death-bed, you -solemnly promised him that his dying wish, with regard to the liberation -of your father's slaves, should be carried out, and that you would never -become the owner of such property." - -"Stop! stop!" exclaimed Miss Jane, and her face was livid with rage, -"you have no right to recur to that time. You are inhuman to introduce -it at this moment. Every one of common sense knows that brother was too -young to have formed a correct opinion upon a question of such momentous -value to the entire government; besides, a promise made to the dying is -never binding. Why should it be? We only wished to relieve him from -anxiety. Father would sell every drop of his blood before he would grant -a negro liberty. He is against it in principle. So am I. Negroes were -made to serve the whites; for that purpose only were they created, and I -am not one who is willing to thwart their Maker's wise design." - -Miss Jane imagined she had spoken quite conclusively and displayed a -vast amount of learning. She looked around for admiration and applause, -which was readily given her by her complimentary sister. - -"Ah, Jane, you should have been a man, and practiced law. The courts -would have been the place for the display of your brilliant talents." - -"But the halls of legislation would not, I fear," said Miss Bradly, -"have had the benefit of her wise, just, and philanthropic views." - -"I should never have allowed the Abolitionists their present weight of -influence, whilst the power of speech and the strength of action -remained to me," answered Miss Jane, very tartly. - -"Oh no, doubtless you would have met the Douglas in his hall, and the -lion in his den," laughingly replied Miss Bradly. - -Thus the conversation was carried on, upon no very friendly terms, until -Miss Jane espied me, when she thundered out, - -"Leave the room, Ann, we've no use for negro company here, unless, -indeed, as I think most probable, Miss Bradly came to visit you, in -which case she had better be shown to the kitchen." - -This insult roused Miss Bradly's resentment, and she rose, saying, - -"Young ladies, I came this evening to take a pleasant adieu, little -expecting to meet with such treatment; but be it as you wish; I take my -leave;" and, with a slight inclination of the head, she departed. - -"Oh, she is insulted!" cried Miss Tildy. - -"I don't care if she is, we owe her nothing. For teaching us she was -well paid; now let her take care of herself." - -"I am going after her to say I did not wish to insult her; for really, -notwithstanding her Abolition sentiments, I like her very much, and I -wish her always to like me." - -So she started off and overtook Miss Bradly at the gate. The explanation -was, I presume, accepted, for they parted with kisses and tears. - -That evening, when I was serving the table, Miss Jane reported the -conversation to her father, who applauded her manner of argument -greatly. - -"Set my niggers free, indeed! Catch me doing any such foolish thing. I'd -sooner be shot. Don't you look for anything of the kind, Ann; I'd sooner -put you in my pocket." - -And this was the way he kept a sacred promise to his dead son! But cases -such as this are numerous. The negro is lulled with promises by humane -masters--promises such as those that led the terror-stricken Macbeth on -to his fearful doom. They - - - "Keep the word of promise to the ear, - But break it to the hope." - - -How many of them are trifled with and lured on; buoyed up from year to -year with stories, which those who tell them are resolved shall never be -realized. - -My memory runs back now to some such wretched recollections; and my -heart shrivels and crumbles at the bare thought, like scorched paper. -Oh, where is there to be found injustice like that which the American -slaves daily and hourly endure, without a word of complaint? "We die -daily"--die to love, to hope, to feeling, humanity, and all the high and -noble gifts that make existence something more than a mere breathing -span. We die to all enlargement of mind and expansion of heart. Our -every energy is bound down with many bolts and bars; yet whole folios -have been written by men calling themselves wise, to prove that we are -by far the happiest portion of the population of this broad Union! What -a commentary upon the liberality of free men! - -After the conversation with Miss Bradly, the young ladies began to -resume their old severity, which the death of young master had checked; -but Mr. Peterkin still seemed moody and troubled. He drank to a -frightful excess. It seemed to have increased his moroseness. He slept -sounder at night, and later in the morning, and was swollen and bloated -to almost twice his former dimensions. His face was a dark crimson -purple; he spoke but little, and then never without an oath. His -daughters remarked the change, but sought not to dissuade him. Perhaps -they cared not if his excesses were followed by death. I had long known -that they treated him with respect only out of apprehension that they -would be cut short of patrimonial favors. But the death of young master -had almost certainly insured them against this, and they were unusually -insolent to their father; but this he appeared not to notice; for he -was too sottishly drunk even to heed them. - -The necessity of wearing black, and the custom of remaining away from -places of amusement, had forced Miss Jane to decline, or at least, -postpone her trip to the city. - -I shall ever remember that summer as one of unusual luxuriance. It -seemed to me, that the forests were more redundant of foliage than I had -ever before seen them. The wild flowers were gayer and brighter, and the -sky of a more glorious blue; even the little feathered songsters sang -more deliciously; and oh, the moonlight nights seemed wondrously soft -and silvery, and the hosts of stars seven times multiplied! I began to -live again. Away through the old primeval woods I took occasionally a -stolen ramble! Whole volumes of romance I drained from the ever-affluent -library of Nature. I truly found-- - - - "Tongues in the trees; books, in the running brooks, - Sermons in stones, and good in everything." - - -It is impossible to imagine how much I enjoyed those solitary walks, few -and far between as they were. I used to wonder why the ladies did not -more enjoy the luxury of frequent communion with Nature in her loveliest -haunts! Strange, is it not, how little the privileged class value the -pleasures and benefits by which they are surrounded! I would have given -ten years of my life (though considering my trouble, the sacrifice would -have been small) to be allowed to linger long beside the winding, -murmuring brook, or recline at the fountain, looking far away into the -impenetrable blue above; or to gather wild flowers at will, and toy with -their tiny leaflets! but indulgences such as these would have been -condemned and punished as indolence. - -I cannot now, honestly, recall a single pleasure that was allowed me, -during my long slavery to Mr. Peterkin. Then who can ask me, if I would -not rather go back into bondage than _live_, aye _live_ (that is the -word), with the proud sense of freedom mine? I have often been asked if -the burden of finding food and raiment for myself was not great enough -to make me wish to resign my liberty. No, a thousand times no! Let me go -half-clad, and meanly fed, but still give me the custody of my own -person, without a master to spy into and question out my up-risings and -down-sittings, and confine me like a leashed hound! Slavery in its -mildest phases (of which I have _only_ heard, for I've always seen it in -its darker terrors) must be unhappy. The very knowledge that you have no -control over yourself, that you are subject to the will, even whim, of -another; that every privilege you enjoy is yours only by concession, not -right, must depress and all but madden the victim. In no situation, with -no flowery disguises, can the revolting institution be made consistent -with the free-agency of man, which we all believe to be the Divine gift. -We have been and are cruelly oppressed; why may we not come out with our -petition of right, and declare ourselves independent? For this were the -infant colonies applauded; who then shall inveigh against us for a -practice of the same heroism? Every word contained in their admirable -Declaration, applies to us. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - -THE AWFUL CONFESSION OF THE MASTER--DEATH; ITS COLD SOLEMNITY. - - -Time passed on; Mr. Peterkin drank more and more violently. He had grown -immense in size, and now slept nearly all the day as well as night. Dr. -Mandy had told the young ladies that there was great danger of apoplexy. -I frequently saw them standing off, talking, and looking at their father -with a strange expression, the meaning of which I could not divine; but -sure I am there was no love in it, 'twas more like a surmise or inquiry, -"How long will you be here?" I would not "set down aught in malice," I -would rather "extenuate," yet am I bound in truth to say that I think -their father's death was an event to which they looked with pleasure. He -had not been showy enough for them, nor had he loved such display as -they wished: true, he allowed them any amount of money; but he objected -to conforming to certain fashions, which they considered indispensable -to their own position; and this difference in ideas and tastes created -much discord. They were not girls of feeling and heart. To them, a -father was nothing more than an accidental guardian, whose duty it was -to supply them with money. - -Late one night, when I had fallen into a profound sleep, such an one as -I had not known for months, almost years, I was suddenly aroused by a -loud knocking at the cabin-door, and a shout of-- - -"Ann! Ann!" - -I instantly recognized the sharp staccato notes of Miss Jane's voice; -and, starting quickly up, I opened the door, but half-dressed, and -inquired what was wanting? - -"Are you one of the Seven Sleepers, that it requires such knocking to -arouse you? Here I've been beating and banging the door, and yet you -still slept on." - -I stammered out something like an excuse; and she told me master was -very ill, and I must instantly heat a large kettle of water; that Dr. -Mandy had been sent for, and upon his arrival, prescribed a hot bath. - -As quickly as the fire, aided by mine and Sally's united efforts, could -heat the water, it was got ready. Jake, Nace, and Dan lifted the large -bathing-tub into Mr. Peterkin's room, filled it with the warm water, and -placed him in it. The case was as Dr. Mandy had predicted. Mr. P. had -been seized with a violent attack of apoplexy, and his life was -despaired of. - -All the efforts of the physician seemed to fail. When Mr. Peterkin did -revive, it was frightful to listen to him. Such revolting oaths as he -used! Such horrid blasphemy as poured from his lips, I shrink from the -foulness of recording. - -Raving like a madman, he called upon God to restore his son, or stand -condemned as unjust. His daughters, in sheer affright, sent for the -country preacher; but the good man could effect nothing. His pious words -were wasted upon ears duller than stone. - -"I don't care a d--n for your religion. None of your hypocritical -prayin' round me," Mr. Peterkin would say, when the good parson sought -to beguile his attention, and lead him to the contemplation of divine -things. - -Frightful it was, to me, to stand by his bed-side, and hear him call -with an oath for whiskey, which was refused. - -He had drunk so long, and so deeply, that now, when he was suddenly -checked, the change was terrible to witness. He grew timid, and seemed -haunted by terrible spectres. Anon he would call to some fair-haired -woman, and shout out that there was blood, clotted blood, on her -ringlets; then, rolling himself up in the bed covering, he would shriek -for the skies and mountains to hide him from the meek reproach of those -girlish eyes! - -"Something terrible is on his memory," said the doctor to Miss Jane. -"Do you know aught of this?" - -"Nothing," she replied with a shudder. - -"Don't you remember," asked Miss Tildy, "how often Johnny's eyes seemed -to recall a remorseful memory, and how father would, as now, cry for -them to shut out that look which so tormented him?" - -"Yes, yes," and they both fled from the room, and did not again go near -their father. On the third evening of his illness, when Dr. Mandy (who -had been constantly with him) sat by his bed, holding his pulse, he -turned on his side, and asked in a mild tone, quite unusual to him, - -"Doctor, must I die? Tell me the truth; I don't want to be deceived." - -After a moment's pause, the doctor replied, "Yes, Mr. Peterkin, I will -speak the truth; I don't think you can recover from this attack, and, if -I am not very much mistaken, but a few hours of mortal life now remain -to you." - -"Then I must speak on a matter what has troubled me a good deal. If I -was a good scholar I'd a writ it out, and left it fur you to read; but -as I warn't much edicated, I couldn't do that, so I'll jist tell you -all, and relieve my mind." Here Mr. Peterkin's face assumed a frightful -expression; his eyes rolled terribly in his head, and blazed with an -expression which no language can paint. His very hair seemed erect with -terror. - -"Don't excite yourself; be calm! Wait until another time, then tell me." - -"No, no, I must speak now, I feel it 'twill do me good. Long time ago I -had a good kind mother, and one lovely sister;" and here his voice sank -to a whisper. "My father I can't remember; he died when I was a baby. I -was a wild boy; a 'brick,' as they usin' to call me. 'Way off in old -Virginny I was born and raised. My mother was a good, easy sort of -woman, that never used any force with her children, jist sich a person -as should raise gals, not fit to manage onruly boys like me. I jist had -my own way; came and went when I pleased. Mother didn't often reprove -me; whenever she did, it was in a gentle sort of way that I didn't mind -at all. I'd promise far enough; but then, I'd go and do my own way. So I -growed up to the age of eighteen. I'd go off on little trips; get myself -in debt, and mother'd have to pay. She an' sis had to take in sewin' to -support 'emselves, and me too. Wal, they didn't make money fast enough -at this; so they went out an' took in washin'. Sis, poor little thing, -hired herself out by the day, to get extry money for to buy little -knic-nacs fur mother, whose health had got mighty bad. Wal, their rent -had fell due, and Lucy (my sister) and mother had bin savin' up money -fur a good while, without sayin' anything to me 'bout it; but of nights -when they thought I was asleep, I seed 'em slip the money in a drawer of -an old bureau, that stood in the room whar I slept. Wal, I owed some men -a parcel of money, gamblin' debts, and they had bin sorter quarrelin' -with me 'bout it, and railin' of me 'bout my want of spirit, and I was -allers sort of proud an' very high-tempered. So I 'gan to think mother -and Luce was a saving up money fur to buy finery fur 'emselves, an' I -'greed I'd fix 'em fur it. So one night I made my brags to the boys that -I'd pay the next night, with intrust. Some of 'em bet big that I -wouldn't do it. So then I was bound fur it. Accordin', next night I -tried to get inter the drawer; but found it fast locked. I tried agin. -At length, with a wrinch, I bust it open, an' thar before me, all in -bright specie, lay fifty dollars! A big sum it 'peared to me, and then I -was all afired with passion, for Luce had refused me when I had axed her -to lend me money. Jist as I had pocketed it, an' was 'about to drive out -of the room, Lucy opened the door, an' seein' the drawer wide open, she -guessed it all. She gave one loud scream, saying, 'Oh, all our hard -savin's is gone.' I made a sign to her to keep silent; but she went on -hallowin' and cotcht hold of me, an' by a sort of quare strength, she -got her arm round me, an' her hand in my pocket, where the money was." - -"You musn't have this, indeed you musn't," said she, "for it is to pay -our rent." - -"One desperate effort I made, an' knocked her to the floor. Her head -struck agin the sharp part of the bureau, and the blood gushed from it; -I give one loud yell for mother, an' then fled. Give me some water," he -added, in a hollow tone. - -After moistening his lips, he continued: - -"Reachin' my companions, I paid down every cent of the money, principal -and interest, then got my bet paid, and left 'em, throwin' a few dollars -toward 'em for the gineral treat. - -"About midnight, soft as a cat, I crept along to our house; and I knew -from the light through the open shutter of the winder, that she was -either dead or dyin'; for it was a rule at our house to have the lights -put out afore ten. - -"I slipped up close to the winder, and lookin' in, saw the very wust -that I had expected--Lucy in her shroud! A long, white sheet was spread -over the body! Two long candles burnt at the head and foot of the -corpse. Three neighbor-women was watchin' with her. While I still -looked, the side door opened, and mother came in, looking white as a -ghost. She turned down the sheet from the body. I pressed my face still -closer to the winder-pane; and saw that white, dead face; the forehead, -where the wound had been given, was bandaged up. Mother knelt down, and -cried out with a tone that froze my blood-- - -"'My child, my murdered child!' I did not tarry another minute; but with -one loud yell bounded away. This scream roused the women, who seized up -the candle and run out to the door. I looked back an' saw them with -candles in hand, examining round the house. For weeks I lived in the -woods on herbs and nuts; occasionally stoppin' at farm-houses, an' -buyin' a leetle milk and bread, still I journeyed on toward the West, my -land of promise. At last, on foot, after long travel, I reached -Kaintuck. I engaged in all sorts of head-work, but didn't succeed very -well till I began to trade in niggers; then I made money fast enough. I -was a hard master. It seemed like I was the same as that old Ishmael you -read of in the old book; my hand was agin every man, and every man's -agin me. After while, I got mighty rich from tradin' in niggers, and -married. These is my children. This is all of my story,--a bad one 'tis -too; but, doctor, that boy, my poor, dead Johnny, was so like Lucy that -he almost driv' me mad. At times he had a sartin look, jist like hern, -that driv' a dagger to my heart. Oh, Lord! if I die, what will become of -me? Give me some whiskey, doctor, I mus' have some, for the devil and -all his imps seem to be here." - -He began raving in a frightful manner, and sprang out of bed so -furiously that the doctor deemed it necessary to have him confined. -Jake, Dan, and Nace were called in to assist in tying their master. It -was with difficulty they accomplished their task; but at last it was -done. Panting and foaming at the mouth, this Goliath of human -abominations lay! He, who had so often bound negroes, was now by them -bound down! If he had been fully conscious, his indignation would have -known no limits. - -Miss Jane sent for me to come to her room. I found her in hysterics. -Immediately, at her command, I set about rubbing her head, and chafing -her temples and hands with cologne; but all that I could do seemed to -fall far short of affording any relief. It appeared to me that her lungs -were unusually strong, for such screams I hardly ever listened to; but -her life was stout enough to stand it. The wicked are long-lived! - -Miss Tildy had more self-control. She moved about the house with her -usual indifference, caring for and heeding no one, except as she -bestowed upon me an occasional reprimand, which, to this day, I cannot -think I deserved. If she mislaid an article of apparel, she instantly -accused me of having stolen it; and persisted in the charge until it was -found. She always accompanied her accusations with impressive blows. It -is treatment such as this that robs the slave of all self-respect. He is -constantly taught to look upon himself as an animal, devoid of all good -attributes, without principle, and full of vice. If he really tries to -practice virtue and integrity, he gets no credit for it. "_Honest for a -nigger_," is a phrase much in use in Kentucky; the satirical -significance of which is perfectly understood by the astute African. I -knew that it was hard for me to hold fast to my principles amid such -fierce trials. It was so common a charge--that of liar and thief--that -despite my practice to the contrary, I almost began to accept the terms -as deserved. In some cases, the human conscience is a flexile thing! -but, thank Heaven! mine withstood the trial! - - * * * * * * * - -On the morning of the fifth day after Mr. Peterkin's illness, his -perturbed spirit, amid imprecations and blasphemies the most horrible, -took its leave of the mortal tenement. Whither went it, oh, angel of -mercy? A fearful charge had his guardian-angel to render up. - -This was the second time I had witnessed the death of a human master. I -had no tears; and, as a veracious historian, I am bound to say that I -regard it as a beneficent dispensation of Divine Providence. He, my -tyrant, had gone to his Judge to render a fearful account of the -dreadful deeds done in the body. - -After he was laid out and appropriately dressed, and the room darkened, -the young ladies came in to look at him. I believe they wept. At least, -I can testify to the premonitory symptoms of weeping, viz., the -fluttering of white pocket-handkerchiefs, in close proximity to the -eyes! The neighbors gathered round them with bottles of sal-volatile, -camphor, fans, &c., &c. There was no dearth of consolatory words, for -they were rich. Though Mr. Peterkin's possessions were vast, he could -carry no tithe of them to that land whither he had gone; and at that bar -before which he must stand, there would flash on him the stern eye of -Justice. His trial there would be equitable and rigid. His money could -avail him nought; for _there_ were allowed no "packed juries," bribed -and suborned witnesses, no wily attorneys to turn Truth astray; no -subtleties and quibbles of litigation; all is clear, straight, open, -even-handed justice, and his own deeds, like a mighty cloud of -evidence, would rise up against him--and so we consign him to his fate -and to his mother earth. - -But he was befittingly buried, even with the rites of Christianity! -There was a man in a white neck-cloth, with a sombre face, who read a -psalm, offered up a well-worded prayer, gave out a text, and therefrom -preached an appropriate, elegiac sermon. Not one, to be sure, in which -the peculiar virtues of brother Peterkin were set forth, but a sort of -pious oration, wherein religion, practical and revealed, was duly -encouraged, and great sympathy offered to the _lovely_ and bereaved -daughters, &c., &c. - -The body was placed in a very fine coffin, and interred in the family -burying-ground, near his wife and son! At the grave, Miss Jane, who well -understood scenic effect, contrived to get up an attack of syncope, and -fell prostrate beside the new-made grave. Of course "the friends" -gathered round her with restoratives, and, shouting for "air," they made -an opening in the crowd, through which she was borne to a carriage and -driven home. - -I had lingered, tenderly, beside young master's tomb, little heeding -what was passing around, when this theatrical excitement roused me. Oh! -does not one who has real trouble, heart-agony, sicken when he hears of -these affectations of grief? - -Slowly, but I suspect with right-willing hearts, the crowd turned away -from the grave, each betaking himself to his own home and pursuit. - -A few weeks after, a stately monument, commemorative of his good deeds, -was erected to the memory of James Peterkin. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. - -THE BRIDAL--ITS CEREMONIES--A TRIP, AND A CHANGE OF HOMES--THE -MAGNOLIA--A STRANGER. - - -Weeks rolled monotonously by after the death of Mr. Peterkin. There was -nothing to break the cloud of gloom that enveloped everything. - -The ladies were, as ever, cruel and abusive. Existence became more -painful to me than it had been before. It seemed as if every hope was -dead in my breast. An iron chain bound every aspiration, and I settled -down into the lethargy of despair. Even Nature, all radiant as she is, -had lost her former charms. I looked not beyond the narrow horizon of -the present. The future held out to me no allurements, whilst the dark -and gloomy past was an arid plain, without fountain, or flower, or -sunshine, over which I dared not send my broken spirit. - -In this state of dreary monotony, I passed my life for months, until an -event occurred which changed my whole after-fate. - -Mr. Summerville, who, it seems, had kept up a regular correspondence -with Miss Jane, made us a visit, and, after much secret talking in dark -parlors, long rambles through the woods, twilight and moonlight -whisperings on the gallery, Miss Jane announced that there would, on the -following evening, be performed a marriage ceremony of importance to -all, but of very particular interest to Mr. Summerville and herself. - -Accordingly, on the evening mentioned, the marriage rite was solemnized -in the presence of a few social friends, among whom Dr. Mandy and wife -shone conspicuously. I duly plied the guests with wine, cakes and -confections. - -Miss Tildy, by the advice of her bride-sister, enacted the pathetic -very perfectly. She wept, sighed, and, I do believe, fainted or tried to -faint. This was at the special suggestion of her sister, who duly -commended and appreciated her. - -Mr. Summerville, for the several days that he remained with us, looked, -and was, I suppose, the very personification of delight. - -In about a week or ten days after the solemnization of the matrimonial -rite, Mr. Summerville made his "better half" (or worse, I know not -which), understand that very important business urged his immediate -return to the city. Of course, whilst the novelty of the situation -lasted, she was as obedient and complaisant as the most exacting husband -could demand, and instantly consented to her lord's request. She bade me -get ready to accompany her; and, as she had heard that people from the -country were judged according to the wardrobe of their servants, she -prepared for me quite a decent outfit. - -One bright morning, I shall ever remember it, we started off with -innumerable trunks, band-boxes, &c.--for the city of L----. Without one -feeling of regret, I turned my face from the Peterkin farm. I never saw -it after, save in dark and fearful dreams, from which I always awoke -with a shudder. I felt half-emancipated, when my back was turned against -it, and in the distance loomed up the city and freedom. I had a queer -fancy, that if the Peterkin influence were once thrown off, the rest -would speedily succeed! - -If I had only been allowed, I could have shouted out like a school-boy -freed from a difficult lesson; but Miss Jane's checking glance was upon -me, and 'twas like winter's frozen breath over a gladsome lake. - -I well remember the beautiful ride upon the boat, and how long and -lingeringly I gazed over the guard, looking down at the blue, -dolphin-like waves. All the day, whilst others lounged and talked, I was -looking at those same curling, frothy billows, making, in my own mind, -fifty fantastic comparisons, which then appeared to me very brilliant, -but, since I have learned to think differently. Truly, the foam has died -on the wave. - -When night came on, wrapped in her sombre purple, yet glittering with a -cuirass of stars and a helmet of planets, the waters sparkled and danced -with a fairy-like beauty, and I thought I had never beheld anything half -so ecstatic! There was none on that crowded steamer who dreamed of the -glory that was nestling, like a thing of love, deep and close down in -the poor slave's breast! - -To those who surrounded me, this was but an ordinary sight; to me it was -one of strange, unimagined loveliness. I was careful however, to -disguise my emotions. I would have given worlds (had I been their -possessor) to speak my joy in one wild word, or to shout it forth in a -single cry. - -This pleasure, like all others, found its speedy end. The next morning, -about ten o'clock, we landed in L--, a city of some commercial -consequence in the West. Indeed, by old residents of the interior of -Kentucky, it is regarded as "_the city_." I have often since thought of -my first landing there; of its dusty, dirty coal-besmoked appearance; of -its hedge of drays, its knots of garrulous and noisy drivers, and then -the line of dusky warehouses, storage rooms, &c. All this instantly -rises to my mind when I hear that growing city spoken of. - -Mr. Summerville engaged one of the neatest-looking coaches at the wharf; -and into it Miss Jane, baggage and servant were unceremoniously hurried. -I had not the privilege and scarcely the wish to look out of the -coach-window, yet, from my crowded and uncomfortable position, I could -catch a sight of an occasional ambitious barber's pole, or myriad-tinted -chemists' bottles; all these, be it remembered, were novelties to me, -who had never been ten miles from Mr. Peterkin's farm. At length the -driver drew a halt at the G---- House, as Mr. Summerville had directed, -and, at this palatial-looking building Mr. Summerville had taken -quarters. How well I recollect its wide hall, its gothic entrance and -hospitable-looking vestibule! The cane-colored floor cloth, -corresponding with the oaken walls struck me as the harmonious design of -an artistic mind. - -For a few moments only was Miss Jane left in the neat reception-room, -when a nice-looking mulatto man entered, and, in a low, gentlemanly -tone, informed her that her room was ready. Taking the basket and -portmanteau from me, he politely requested that we would follow him to -room No. 225. Through winding corridors and interminable galleries, he -conducted us, until, at last, we reached it. Drawing a key from his -pocket, he applied it to the lock, and bade Miss Jane enter. She was -much pleased with the arrangement of the furniture, the adjustment of -the drapery, &c. - -The floor was covered with a beautiful green velvet carpet, torn bouquet -pattern, whilst the design of the rug was one that well harmonized with -the disposition of the present tenant. It was a wild tiger reposing in -his native jungle. - -After Miss Jane had made an elaborate toilette, she told me, as a great -favor, she would allow me to go down stairs, or walk through the halls -for recreation, as she had no further use for me. - -I wandered about, passing many rooms, all numbered in gilt figures. The -most of them had their doors open, and I amused myself watching the -different expressions of face and manners of their occupants. This had -always been a habit of mine, for the indulgence of which, however, I had -had but little opportunity. - -I strayed on till I reached the parlors, and they burst upon me with the -necromantic power of Aladdin's hall. A continuity of four apartments -rolled away into a seeming mist, and the adroit position of a mirror -multiplied their number and added greatly to the gorgeous effect. There -were purple and golden curtains, with their many tinsel ornaments; -carpets of the gayest style, from the richest looms. "Etruscan vases, -quaint and old" adorned the mantel-shelf, and easy divans and lounges of -mosaic-velvet were ranged tastefully around. An arcade, with its stately -pillars, divided two of the rooms, and the inter-columniations were -ornamented with statues and statuettes; and upon a marble table, in the -centre of one of the apartments, was a blooming magnolia, the first one -I had ever seen! That strange and mysterious odor, that, like a fine, -inner, sub-sense, pervades the nerve with a quickening power, stole over -me! I stood before the flower in a sort of delicious, delirious joy. -There, with its huge fan-like leaves of green, this pure white blossom, -queen of all the tribe of flowers, shed its glorious perfume and -unfolded its mysterious beauty. It seemed that a new life was opening -upon me. Surely, I said, this _is_ fairy land. For more than an hour I -lingered beside that splendid magnolia, vainly essaying to drink in its -glory and its mystery. - -Miss Jane and Mr. Summerville had gone out to take a drive over the -city, and I was comparatively free, in their absence, to go -whithersoever I pleased. - -Whilst I still loitered near the flower, a very sweet but manly voice -asked: - -"Do you love flowers?" - -I turned hastily, and to my surprise, beheld a fine-looking gentleman -standing in close contiguity to me. With pleasure I think now of his -broad, open face, written all over with love and kindness; his deep, -fervid blue eye, that wore such a gentle expression; and the scant, yet -fair hair that rolled away from his magnificent forehead! He appeared to -be slightly upwards of fifty; but I am sure from his face, that those -fifty years had been most nobly spent. - -I trembled as I replied: - -"Yes, I am very fond of flowers." - -He noticed my embarrassment, and smiled most benignantly. - -"Did you ever see a magnolia before?" - -"Is this a magnolia?" I inquired, pointing to the luxurious flower. - -"Yes, and one of the finest I ever saw. It belongs to the South. Are you -sure you never saw one before?" He fixed his eyes inquiringly upon me as -I answered: - -"Oh, quite sure, sir; I never was ten miles from my master's farm in my -life." - -"You are a slave?" - -"Yes, sir, I am." - -He waited a moment, then said: - -"Are you happy?" - -I dared not tell a falsehood, yet to have truly stated my feelings, -would have been dangerous; so I evasively replied: - -"Yes, as much so as most slaves." - -I thought I heard him sigh, as he slowly moved away. - -My eyes followed him with inquiring wonder. Who could he be? Certain I -was that no malice had prompted the question he had asked me. The -circumstance created anxiety in my mind. All that day as I walked about, -or waited on Miss Jane, that stranger's faces shone like a new-risen -moon upon my darkened heart. Had I found, accidentally, one of those -Northern Abolitionists, about whom I had heard so much? Often after when -sent upon errands for my mistress, I met him in the halls, and he always -gave me a kind smile and a friendly salutation. Once Miss Jane observed -this, and instantly accused me of having a dishonorable acquaintance -with him. My honor was a thing that I had always guarded with the utmost -vigilance, and to such a serious charge I perhaps made some hasty reply, -whereupon Miss Jane seized a riding-whip, and cut me most severely -across the face, leaving an ugly mark, a trace of which I still bear, -and suppose I shall carry to my grave. Mr. Summerville expostulated with -his wife, saying that it was better to use gentle means at first. - -"No, husband," (she always thus addressed him,) "I know more about the -management of _niggers_ than you do." - -This gross pronunciation of the word negro has a popular use even among -the upper and educated classes of Kentucky. I am at a loss to account -for it, in any other way than by supposing that they use it to express -their deepest contempt. - -Mr. Summerville was rather disposed to be humane to his servants. He was -no advocate of the rod; he used to term it the relic of barbarism. He -preferred selling a refractory servant to whipping him. This did not -accord particularly well with Miss Jane's views, and the consequence was -they had many a little private argument that did not promise to end -well. - -Miss Jane made many acquaintances among the boarders in the hotel, with -whom she was much pleased. She had frequent invitations to attend the -theatre, concerts, and even parties. Many of the fashionables of the -city called upon her, offering, in true Kentucky style, the -hospitalities of their mansions. With this she was quite delighted, and -her new life became one of intense interest and gratification, as her -letters to her sister proved. - -She would often regret Tildy was not there to share in her delight; but -it had been considered best for her to remain at the old homestead until -some arrangement could be made about the division of the estate. Two of -the neighbors, a gentleman and his wife, took up their abode with her; -but she expected to visit the city so soon as Miss Jane went to -house-keeping, which would be in a few months. Miss Jane was frequently -out spending social days and evenings with her friends, thus giving me -the opportunity of going about more than I had ever done through the -house. In this way I formed a pleasant acquaintance with several of the -chambermaids, colored girls and free. Friendships thus grew up which -have lasted ever since, and will continue, I trust, until death closes -over us. One of the girls, Louise, a half-breed, was an especial -favorite. She had read some, and was tolerably well educated. From her I -often borrowed interesting books, compends of history, bible-stories, -poems, &c. I also became a furious reader of newspapers, thus picking -up, occasionally, much useful information. Louise introduced me, -formally, to the head steward, an intelligent mulatto man, named Henry, -of most prepossessing appearance; but the shadow of a great grief lurked -in the full look of his large dark eye! "I am a slave, God help me!" -seemed stamped upon his face; 'twas but seldom that I saw him smile, and -then it was so like the reflection of a tear, that it pained me full as -much as his sigh. He had access to the gentlemen's reading-room; and -through him I often had the opportunity of reading the leading -Anti-slavery journals. With what avidity I devoured them! How full they -were of the noblest philanthropy! Great exponents of real liberty! at -the words of your argument my heart leaped like a new-fledged bird! -Still pour forth your burning eloquence; it will yet blaze like a -watchfire on the Mount of Liberty! The gladness, the hope, the faith it -imparted to my long-bowed heart, would, I am sure, give joy to those -noble leaders of the great cause. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. - -THE ARGUMENT. - - -One day, when Miss Jane and Mr. Summerville had gone out at an early -hour to spend the entire day, I little knew what to do with myself as I -had no books nor papers to read, and Louise had business that took her -out of the house. - -The day was unusually soft and pleasant. I wandered through the halls, -and, drawing near a private gallery that ran along in front of the -gentlemen's room, I paused to look at a large picture of an English -fox-chase, that adorned the wall. Whilst examining its rare and peculiar -beauties, my ear was pleasantly struck by the sound of a much-esteemed -voice, saying-- - -"Well, very well! Let us take seats here, in this retired place, and -begin the conversation we have been threatening so long." - -I glanced out at the crevice of the partially open door, and distinctly -recognized the gentleman who had spoken to me of the magnolia, and who -(I had learned) was James Trueman, of Boston, a man of high standing and -social position, and a successful practitioner of law in his native -State. - -The other was a gentleman from Virginia, one of the very first families -(there are no second, I believe), by the name of Winston, a man reputed -of very vast possessions, a land-holder, and an extensive owner of -slaves. I had frequently observed him in company with Mr. Trueman, and -had inquired of Henry who and what he was. - -I felt a little reluctant to remain in my position and hear this -conversation, not designed for me; yet a singular impulse urged me to -remain. I felt (and I scarce know why) that it had a bearing upon the -great moral and social question that so agitated the country. Whilst I -was debating with myself about the propriety of a retreat, I caught a -few words, which determined me to stay and hear what I believed would -prove an interesting discussion. - -"Let us, my dear Mr. Winston," began Mr. Trueman, "indulge for a few -moments in a conversation upon this momentous subject. Both of us have -passed that time of life when the ardor and impetuosity of youthful -blood might unfit us for such a discussion, and we may say what we -please on this vexed question with the distinct understanding, that -however offensive our language may become, it will be regarded as -_general_, neither meant nor understood to have any application to -ourselves." - -"I am quite willing and ready to converse as you propose," replied the -other, in a quick, unpleasant tone, "and I gladly accept the terms -suggested, in which you only anticipate my design. It is well to agree -upon such restraint; for though, as you remind me, our advancing years -have taken much of the fervor from our blood, and left us calm, sober, -thoughtful men, the agitating nature of the subject and the deep -interest which both of us feel in it, should put us on our guard. If, -then, during the progress of the conversation, either of us shall be -unduly excited, let the recollection of the conditions upon which we -engage in it, recall him to his accustomed good-humor." - -"Well, we have settled the preliminaries without difficulty, and to -mutual satisfaction. And now, the way being clear, our discussion may -proceed. I assume, then, in the outset, that the institution of slavery, -as it exists in the South, is a monstrous evil. I assume this -proposition; not alone because it is the universal sentiment of the -'rest of mankind;' but also, because it is now very generally conceded -by slave-holders themselves." - -"Pray, where did you learn that slave-holders ever made such a -concession? As to what may be the sentiment of the 'rest of mankind,' I -may speak by-and-bye. For the present, my concern is with the opinion of -that large slave-holding class to which I belong. I am extensively -acquainted among them, and if that is their opinion of our peculiar -institution, I am entirely ignorant of it." - -"Your ignorance," said Mr. Trueman, with a smile, "in that regard, while -it by no means disproves my proposition, may be easily explained. With -your neighbors, who feel like yourself the dread responsibility of this -crying abomination, it is not pleasant, perhaps, to talk upon it, and -you avoid doing so without the slightest trouble; because you have other -and more engaging topics, such as the condition of your farms, the -prospect of fine crops, and all the 'changes of the varying year.' But, -read the declarations of your chosen Representatives, the favorite sons -of the South, in the high councils of our nation; and you will discover, -that in all the debates involving it, slavery, in itself, and in its -consequences, is frankly admitted to be a tremendous evil." - -"Our Representatives may have sometimes thought proper to make such an -admission to appease the fanaticism of Northern Abolitionists, and to -quiet the agitations of the country in the spirit of generous -compromise: but _I_ am not bound to make it, and _I will not make it_. -Neither do I avoid conversations with my neighbors upon the subject of -slavery from the motive you intimate, nor from any other motive. I have -frequently talked with them upon it, boldly and candidly, as I am -prepared to talk to you or any reasonable man. Your proposition I -positively deny, and can quickly refute." I thought there was a little -anger in the tone in which he said this; but no excitement was -discernible in the clear, calm voice with which Mr. Trueman answered-- - -"Independently of the admission of your Representatives, which, I think, -ought to bind you (for you must have been aware of it, and since it was -public and undisputed, your acquiescence might be fairly presumed), -there are many considerations that establish the truth of my position. -But I cannot indorse your harsh reflection upon the Representatives of -your choice. I cannot believe them capable of admitting, for any -purpose, a proposition which, in their opinion and that of their -constituents, asserts a falsehood. The immortal Henry Clay and such men -as he are responsible for the admission, and not one of them was ever so -timid as to be under the dominion of fear, or so dishonest as to be -hypocritical." - -A moment's pause ensued, when Mr. Winston appeared to rally, and said, - -"I do not understand, then, if that was their real opinion, how it was -possible for them to continue to hold slaves. To say the least of it, -their practice was not in accordance with their theory. Hence I said, -that under certain circumstances and to serve a special purpose, they -may have conceded slavery to be an evil. For my own part, if I were -persuaded that this proposition is true, it would constrain me to -liberate all my slaves, whatever may be my attachment to them or the -loss I should necessarily suffer. Some of them have been acquired by -purchase; others by inheritance: all of them seem satisfied with their -treatment upon my estate; yet nothing could induce me to claim the -property I have hitherto thought I possessed in them, when convinced of -the evil which your proposition asserts." - -"Nothing could be fairer, my dear Mr. Winston. Your conviction will -doubtless subject you to immense sacrifices: but these will only enhance -your real worth as a man, and I am sure you will make them without -hesitation, though it may be, not without reluctance. Now, it is a -principle of law, well settled, that no person can in any manner convey -a title, even to those things which are property, greater than that -which he rightfully possesses. If, for instance, I acquire, by theft or -otherwise, unlawful possession of your watch or other articles of value, -which is transferred, by the operation of purchase and sale, through -many hands, your right never ceases; and the process of law will enable -you to obtain possession. Each individual who purchased the article, may -have his remedy against him from whom he procured it, however extended -the series of purchasers: but, since whatever right any one of them has -was derived originally from me, and since my unlawful acquisition -conferred no right at all, it follows that none was transmitted. -Consequently, you were not divested, and the just spirit of law, -continuing to recognize your property in the article whenever found, -provides the ready means whereby you may reduce it once more to -possession. This principle of law is not peculiar to a single locality; -it enters into the remedial code of all civilized countries. Its -benefits are accessible to the free negro in this land of the dark -Southern border; and, I trust, it will not be long before those who are -now held in slavery may be embraced in its beneficent operation. Whether -it is recognized internationally, I am not fully prepared to say; but it -ought to be, if it is not, for it is the dictate of equity and common -sense. But, upon the hypothesis that it is so recognized, if the -property of an inhabitant of Africa were stolen from him by a citizen of -the United States, he might recover it. As for those people who, in the -Southern States, are held as slaves, they or their ancestors came here -originally not by their own choice, but by compulsion, from distant -Africa. You will hardly deny, I presume, what is, historically, so -evident--that "they were captured," as the phrase is, or, in our honest -vernacular, _stolen_ and brought by violence from their native homes. -Had they been the proper subjects of property, what could prevent the -application of the principle I have quoted?" - -After two or three hems and haws, Mr. Winston began: - -"I have never inquired particularly into the matter; but have always -entertained the impression which pervades the Southern mind, that our -negroes are legitimately our slaves, in pursuance of the malediction -denounced by God against Ham and his descendants, of whom they are a -part. And, so thinking, I believed we were entitled to the same right to -them which we exercise over the beasts of the field, the fowls of the -air, and the fishes of the deep. Moreover, your principle of law, which -is indeed very correct, is inapplicable to their case. There is also a -principle in the law of my State, incapacitating slaves to hold -property. They are property themselves; and property cannot hold -property. Apart from the terrible curse, which doomed them in the -beginning, they were slaves in their own country to men of their own -race; slaves by right of conquest. Therefore, taking the instance you -have suggested, by way of illustration, were any article of value -wrested from their possession, under this additional principle, the law -could not give them any redress. But, inasmuch as whatever they may -acquire becomes immediately the property of their master, to him the law -will furnish a remedy." - -"You do not deny," and here Mr. Trueman's tone was elevated and a little -excited, "that the first of those who reached this country were stolen -in Africa. Now, for the sake of the argument merely, I will admit that -they were slaves at home. If they were slaves at home--it matters not -whether by 'right or conquest,' or 'in pursuance of _the curse_,' they -must have been the property of somebody, and those who stole them and -sold them into bondage in America could give no valid title to their -purchasers; for by the theft they had acquired none themselves. Hence, -if ever they were slaves, they are still the property of their masters -in Africa; but, if your interpretation of "the curse" is correct, those -masters were also slaves, and, being such, under the principle of law -which you have quoted, they could not for this reason hold property. -Therefore, those oppressed and outraged, though benighted people, who -were first sold into slavery, to the eternal disgrace of our land, were, -in sheer justice, either _free_, or the property--even after the -sale--of their African masters, if they had any; in neither case could -they belong to those of our citizens who were unfortunate enough to buy -them. They were not slaves of African masters: for, according to your -argument, all of the race are slaves, and slaves cannot own slaves any -more than horses can own horses; therefore, since no other people -claimed dominion over them, they were, necessarily, free. You cannot -escape from this dilemma, and the choice of either horn is fatal to your -cause. Being free, might they not have held property like other -nations? And, had any of it been stolen from them by those who are -amenable to our laws, would not consistency compel us, who recognize the -just principle I have quoted, to restore it to them? This is the course -pursued among ourselves; and it ceases not with restoration; but on the -offender it proceeds to inflict punishment, to prevent a repetition of -the offence. This is the course we should pursue toward that -down-trodden race whose greatest guilt is 'a skin not colored like our -own.' - -"As the case stands, it is not a question of property, but of that more -valuable and sacred right, the right of _personal liberty_, of which we -now boast so loudly. What, in the estimation of the world, is the worth -of those multitudinous orations, apostrophies to liberty, which, on each -recurring Fourth of July, in whatever quarter of the globe Americans may -be assembled, penetrate the public ear? What are they worth to us, if, -while reminding us of early colonial and revolutionary struggles against -the galling tyranny of the British crown, they fail to inculcate the -easy lesson of respect for the rights of all mankind? In keeping those -poor Africans in the South still enslaved, you practically ignore this -lesson, and you trample with unholy feet that divine ordinance which -commands you 'to do unto others as you would have others do unto you.' -By the oppression to which we were subjected under the yoke of Britain, -and against which we wrestled so long, so patiently, so vigorously, in -so many ways, and at last so triumphantly, I adjure you to put an end, -at once and forever, to this business of holding slaves. This is -oppression indeed, in comparison with which, that which drew forth our -angry and bitter complaints, was very freedom. Let us, instead of -perpetuating this infamous institution, be true to ourselves; let us -vindicate the pretensions we set up when we characterize ours as 'the -land of liberty, the asylum of the oppressed,' by proclaiming to the -nations of the earth that, so soon as a slave touches the soil of -America, his manacles shall fall from him: let us verify the words -engraven in enduring brass on the old bell which from the tower of -Independence Hall rang out our glorious Declaration, and in deed and in -truth proclaim 'Liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison -doors to them that are bound.' As you value truth, honor, justice, -consistency, aye, humanity even, wipe out the black blot which defiles -the border of our escutcheon, and the country will then be in reality -what is now only in name, a _free_ country, loving liberty -disinterestedly for its own sake, and for that of all people, and -nations, and tribes, and tongues. - -"You may still, if you choose, dispute and philosophize about the -inequality of races, and continue to insist on the boasted superiority -of _our_ Caucasian blood; but the greatest disadvantages which a -comparison can indicate will not prove that one's claim to liberty is -higher than another's. It may be that we of the white race, are vastly -superior to our African brethren. The differences, however, are not -flattering to us; for we should remember with shame and confusion of -face, that our injustice and cruelty have produced them. Having first -enslaved the poor Africans and subsequently withheld from them every -means of improvement, it is not strange that such differences should -exist as those on which we plume ourselves. But is it not intolerable -that we should now quote them with such brazen self-gratulation? - -"Despite the manifold disadvantages that encumber and clog the movements -of the Africans, unfortunately for the validity of your argument their -race exhibits many proud specimens to prove their capability of culture, -and of the enjoyment of freedom. Give them but the same opportunities -that we have, and they will rival us in learning, refinement, -statesmanship, and general demeanor, as is incontestibly shown in the -lives and characters of many now living. Such men as Fred Douglas and -President Roberts, would honor any complexion; or, I ought rather to -say, should make us forget and despise the distinctions of color, since -they reach not below the surface of the skin, nor affect, in the least, -that better part that gives to man all his dignity and worth. Nor need I -point to these illustrious examples to rebut the inferences you deduce -from color. Every village and hamlet in your own sunny South, can -furnish an abundant refutation, in its obscure but eloquent 'colored -preachers'--noble patterns of industry and wisdom, who show forth, by -their exemplary bearing, all the beauty of holiness,--'allure to -brighter worlds and lead the way.'" - -It is impossible to furnish even the faintest description of the -pleading earnestness of the speaker's tone. His full, round, rich voice, -grew intense, low and silvery in its harmonious utterance. As he -pronounced the last sentence, it was with difficulty I could repress a -cry of applause. Oh, surely, surely, I thought, our cause, the African's -cause, is not helpless, is not lost, whilst it still possesses such an -advocate. My eyes overflowed with grateful tears, and I longed to kiss -the hem of his garment. - -"You forget," answered Mr. Winston, "or you would do well to consider, -that these cases are exceptional cases, which neither preclude my -inferences nor warrant your assumption." - -"Exceptions, indeed, they are; but why?" inquired Mr. Trueman. -"Exceptions, you know, prove the rule. Now, you infer from the sooty -complexion of the Africans, a natural and necessary incapacity for the -blessings of self-government and the refinements of education. I have -mentioned individuals of this fatal complexion who are in the wise -enjoyment of these sublime privileges: one of them has acquired an -enviable celebrity as an orator, the other is the accomplished President -of the infant Liberian Republic. If color incapacitated, as you seem to -think, it would affect all alike; but it has not incapacitated these, -therefore it does not incapacitate at all. These are exceptions not to -the general _capacity_ of the blacks, but only to their general -opportunity. What they have done others may do--the opportunities being -equal." - -"I have listened to you entire argument," rejoined Mr. Winston, "very -patiently, with the expectation of hearing the proposition sustained -with which you so vauntingly set out. You will, perhaps, accord to me -the credit of being--what in this age of ceaseless talk is rarely -met--'a good listener.' But, after all my patience and attention, I am -still unsatisfied--if not unshaken. You have failed to meet the -argument drawn from the 'curse' pronounced on the progenitors of the -unfortunate race: you have failed to present or notice what is generally -considered by theologians and moralists the right of a purchaser--in -your illustration from stolen goods--to something for the money with -which he parts; and here, I think, you manifested great unfairness; and, -above all, you have failed to propose any feasible remedy for the state -of things against which you inveigh. What have you to say on these -material points?" - -"Very much, my good sir, as you will find, if, instead of taking -advantage of every momentary pause to make out such a 'failure' as you -desire, you only prolong your very complimentary patience. I wish you to -watch the argument narrowly; to expose the faintest flaw you can detect -in it; and, at the end, if unsatisfied, cry out 'failure,' or let it -wring from you a reluctant confession. You will, at least, before I -shall have done, withdraw the illiberal imputation of unfairness. It -would be an easy task for me to anticipate all you can say, and to -refute it; but such a course would leave you nothing to say, and, since -I intend this discussion to be strictly a conversation, I shall leave -you at liberty to present your own arguments in your own way. Now, as to -the argument from 'the curse,' you must permit me to observe, that your -interpretation is too free and latitudinarian. Mine is more literal, -more in accordance with the character of God; it fully satisfies the -Divine vengeance, and, whether correct or not, has, at least, as much -authority in its favor. Granting the dominion of the white over the -black race to be in virtue of 'the curse,' it by no means conveys such -power as your Southern institution seeks to justify. The word _slave_ -nowhere occurs in that memorable malediction; but there is an obvious -distinction between _its_ import and that of the word _servant_, which -it _does_ employ. Surely, for the offence of looking upon the nakedness -of his father, Ham could not have incurred and entailed upon his -posterity a heavier punishment than they would necessarily suffer as -the simple servants of their brethren. And this consideration should -induce you to give them, at least, the same share of freedom as is -enjoyed by the _white servants_ to be found in many a household in the -South. Such servitude would be the utmost that a merciful God could -require. Even this, however, was under the old dispensation; and the -reign of its laws, customs, and punishments, should melt under the -genial rays of the sun of Christianity. Many of your own patriots, -headed by Washington and Jefferson, have long since thought so; and but -few in these days plead 'the curse' as excuse or justification for that -'damned spot' which all will come ultimately to consider the disgrace of -this enlightened age and nation. As to your next point, the right which -a purchaser of stolen goods may acquire in them in consideration of the -money which he pays, I grant all the benefit that even the most generous -theologian or moralist can allow in the best circumstances of such a -case. And what does this amount to? A return of the purchase-money, with -a reasonable or very high rate of interest for the detention, would be -as much as any one could demand. Applying this to the case of the stolen -Africans, how many of those who were forced from their native land to -this have died on their master's hands without yielding by their labor, -not alone the principal, but a handsome percentage upon the money -invested in their purchase? Thus purchasers were indemnified--abundantly -indemnified, against loss. The indemnity, however, should have been -sought from the seller, not from the article or person sold. But, at -best, purchasers of stolen goods, to entitle themselves to any -indemnity, should at least be innocent; for if they buy such goods, -_knowing them to be stolen_, they are guilty of a serious misdemeanor, -which is everywhere punishable under the law. 'He who asks equity must -do equity.' When, therefore, you of the South would realize the benefit -of the concession of theologians and moralists--the benefit of -justice--you should bring yourselves within the conditions they require; -you should come into court with clean hands, and with the intention of -acting in good faith. Have you done so? Did your fathers do so before -you? Not at all. They were not ignorant purchasers of the poor, ravished -African; they knew full well that he had been stolen and brought by -violence from his distant home: consequently, they were guilty of a -misdemeanor in purchasing; consequently, too, they come not within the -case proposed by the theologians and moralists, which might entitle them -to indemnity; nor were they in a condition to ask it. The present -generation, claiming through them, find themselves in the same -predicament, with the same title only, and the same unclean hands, -perpetuating their foul oppression. None of them, as I have shown, had a -right to claim indemnity by reason of having invested their money in -that way; and, if they ever had such right, they have been richly -indemnified already. Therefore, it is absurd for you to continue the -slave business upon this plea. Having thus answered your only objections -to my position, I might remind you of your determination, and call upon -you to 'liberate your slaves,' and take sides with me in opposition to -the cruel institution. You are greatly mistaken in supposing that my -omission to propose a plan, by which slave-holders could _conveniently, -and without pecuniary loss_, emancipate their slaves, constitutes the -slightest objection to the argument I have advanced. If you defer their -emancipation until such a plan is proposed; if you are unwilling to -incur even a little sacrifice, what nobility will there be in the act, -to entitle you to the consideration of the just and good, or to the -approval of your own consciences? I sought by this discussion, to -convince you that slavery is an enormous evil; the proposition was -declared in all its boldness. You volunteered a pledge to release your -slaves if I could sustain it, let the sacrifice be what it might. Some -sacrifice, then, you must have anticipated; and, should your conviction -now demand it, you have no cause to complain of me. Your pledge was -altogether voluntary; I did not even ask it; nor did I design to suggest -any such plan of universal emancipation as would suit the _convenience_ -of everybody. I am not so extravagantly silly as to hope to do that. -But, after all, why wait for a _plan_? Immediate, universal -emancipation is not impracticable, and numberless methods might and -would at once be devised, if the people of your States were sincere when -they profess to desire its accomplishment. Their _real_ wish, however, -whatever it may be, need not interfere between your individual pledge, -and its prompt fulfilment." - -Mr. Trueman paused for full five minutes, and, as I peered out from my -hiding-place, I thought there was a very quizzical sort of expression on -his fine face. - -"Well, what have you to say?" he at length asked. - -"It seems to me," Mr. Winston began, in an angry tone, "you speak very -flippantly and very wildly about general emancipation. Consider, sir, -that slavery is so woven into our society, that there is scarcely a -family that would not be more or less affected by a change. Fundamental -alterations in society, to be safely made, must be the slow work of -years: - - - 'Not the hasty product of a day, - But the well-ripened fruit of wise delay.' - - -So it is only by almost imperceptible degrees that the emancipationists -and impertinent Abolitionists can ever attain 'the consummation' they -pretend to have so much at heart. If they would just stay at home and -devote their spare time to cleansing their own garments, leaving us of -the South to suffer alone what they are pleased to esteem the evil and -sin and curse, the shame, burden and abomination of slavery, we should -the sooner discover its blasting enormities, and strive more zealously -to abolish them and the institution from which they proceed. Their -super-serviceable interference, hitherto, has only riveted and tightened -the bondage of those with whom they sympathize; and such a result will -always attend it. Our slaves, as at present situated, are very well -satisfied, as, indeed, they ought to be: for they are exempt from the -anxious cares of the free, as to what they shall eat or what they shall -drink, or wherewithal they shall be clothed. Many poor men of our own -color would gladly exchange conditions with them, because they find life -to be a hard, an incessant struggle for the scantiest comforts, with -which our slaves are supplied at no cost of personal solicitude. -Besides, sir, our institution of slavery is vastly more burdensome to -ourselves than to the negroes for whom you affect so much fraternal -love." - -"One would suppose, that if you thought it burdensome, you would be -making some effort to relieve yourselves," interposed Mr. Trueman, in -that clear and pointed manner that was his peculiarity; "and, if -immediate emancipation were deemed impracticable in consequence of the -radical hold which this institution has at the South, you might -naturally be expected to be doing something toward that end by the -encouragement of education among those in bondage, by the sanction of -marriage ties between them, and by other efforts to ameliorate their -condition. Certain inducements might be presented for the manumission of -slaves by individual owners, for there are some of this class, I am -happy to think, who, in tender humanity, would release their slaves, if -the stringency of the laws did not deter them from it. Would it not be -well to abate somewhat of this rigor, and allow all slaves, voluntarily -manumitted, to remain in the several States with at least the privileges -of the free negroes now resident therein, so that the olden ties, which -have grown up between themselves and their owners, might not be abruptly -snapped asunder? Besides, to enforce the propriety of this alteration of -the law, it would be well to reflect that the South is the native home -of most of the slaves, who cherish their local attachments quite as much -as ourselves; and hence the law which now requires them, when by any -means they have obtained their freedom, to remove beyond the limits of -the State, is a very serious hardship and should cease to exist. This -would be a long stride toward your own relief from the burden of which -you complain. As to the slaves, who you think should be content with -their condition, in which they have, as you say, 'no care for necessary -food and raiment,' I would suggest that they have the faculty of -distinguishing between slavery and bondage, and have sense enough to see -that though these things, which are generally of the coarsest kind, are -provided by their masters, the means by which they are furnished are but -a scanty portion of their own hard earnings. Were they free, they could -work in the same way, and be entitled to _all_ the fruits of their -labor. Then they would have the same inducements to toil that we now -have, and the same ambition to lift themselves higher and higher in the -social scale. Those white men whom you believe willing to exchange -situations with them, are too indolent to enjoy the privileges of -freedom, and would be utterly worthless as slaves. You declaim against -the course which the Abolitionists have pursued, and seem disposed, in -consequence, to tighten the cords of servitude. You would be let alone, -forsooth, to bear this burden as long as you please, and to get rid of -it at pleasure. So long as there was any hope that you would do what you -ought in the matter, you were let alone, and if you were the only -sufferers from your peculiar institution, you might continue -undisturbed; but the yoke lies heavy and galling upon the poor slaves -themselves, whose voices are stifled, and it is high time for the -friends of human rights to speak in their behalf, till they make -themselves heard. At this momentous period, when new States and -Territories are knocking for admission at the doors of our Union--States -and Territories of free and virgin soil, which you are seeking to defile -by the introduction of slavery--it is fit that they should persevere in -their noble efforts, that they should resist your endeavors, and strive -with all their energies to confine the obnoxious institution within its -already too-extended bounds; for they know, that, if they would attain -their object--the ultimate and entire abolition of slavery from our -land--they should oppose strenuously every movement tending to its -extension; for, the broader the surface over which it spreads, the more -formidable will be the difficulty of its removal. Therefore it is that -they are now so zealously engaged, and they address you as men whose -'judgment has not fled to brutish beasts,' with arguments against the -evil itself and the weight of anguish it entails. Thus they have ever -done, and you tell me that the result has been to rivet the chains of -those in whose behalf they plead. As well might the sinner, whose guilt -is pointed out to him by the minister of God, resolve for that very -reason to plunge more deeply into sin." - -His voice became gradually calmer and calmer, until finally it sank into -the low notes of a solemn half-whisper. I held my breath in intense -excitement, but this transport was broken by the harsh tones of the -Virginian, who said: - -"All this is very ridiculous as well as unjust; for, at the South slaves -are regarded as property, and, inasmuch as our territories are acquired -by the common blood and treasure of the whole country, we have as much -right to locate in them with our property as you have with any of those -things which are recognized as property at the North. In your great love -of human rights you might take some thought of us; but the secret of -your action is jealousy of our advancement by the aid of slave-labor, -which you would have at the North if you needed it. We understand you -well, and we are heartily tired of your insulting and impudent cant -about the evils of the system of slavery. We want no more of it." - -Mr. Trueman, without noticing the insolence of Winston, continued in the -same impressive manner: - -"We do take much thought of you at the South, and hence it is that we -dislike to see you passively submitting to the continuance of an -institution so fraught with evil in itself, and very burdensome, as even -you have admitted. We, of the North, feel strongly bound to you by the -recollection of common dangers, struggles and trials; and, with an -honorable pride, we wish our whole nation to stand fair, and, so far as -possible, blameless before the world. We are doing all we can to remove -the evils of every kind which exist at the North; and, as we are not -sectional in our purposes, we would stimulate you to necessary action in -regard to your especial system. We know its evils from sore experience, -for it once prevailed amongst us; but, fortunately, we opened our eyes, -and gave ourselves a blessed riddance of it. The example is well worthy -of your imitation, but, 'pleased as you are with the possession', says -Blackstone, speaking of the origin and growth of property, 'you seem -afraid to look back to the means by which it was acquired, as if fearful -of some defect in your title; or, at best, you rest satisfied with the -decision of the laws in your favor, without examining the reason or -authority upon which those laws have been built.' To the eyes of the -nations, who regard us from far across the ocean, and who see us, as a -body, better than we see ourselves, slavery is the great blot that -obscures the disc of our Republic, dimming the effulgence of its -Southern half, as a partial eclipse darkens the world's glorious -luminary. It is, therefore, not alone upon the score of human rights in -general, but from a personal interest in our National character, that -the Abolitionists interfere. Various Congressional enactments have -confirmed the justice of these views, which they are endeavoring to -enforce by moral suasion (for they deprecate violence) upon the South. -Those enactments assume jurisdiction, to some extent at least, upon the -subject of slavery, having gone so far as to prohibit the continuance of -the slave-trade, denouncing it as piracy, and punishing with death those -who are in any way engaged in it. I have yet to learn that the South has -ever protested against this law, in which the Abolitionists see a strong -confirmation of their own just principles. Why should they not go a step -further, and forbid all traffic in slaves, such as is pursued among your -people? Why do not the States themselves interpose their power to put -down at once and forever, such nefarious business? This would be -productive of vastly more good than anything which Colonization -societies can effect." - -"Suppose, sir," began Mr. Winston, "we were to annul the present laws -regulating the manumission of slaves, and to abolish the institution -entirely from our midst; where would be the safety of our own white -race? There is great cause for the apprehension generally entertained, -of perpetual danger and annoyance, if they were permitted to remain -among us. They are there in large numbers, and, having once obtained -their freedom, with permission to reside where they now are, they would -seek to become 'a power in the State,' which would incite them, if -resisted, into fearful rebellion. These are contingencies which -sagacious statesmen have foreseen, and which they would be unable to -avert. Consequently, they had rather bear those ills they have, than fly -to others that they know not of." - -"How infelicitous," Mr. Trueman suddenly retorted, "is your quotation, -for, truly, you 'know not' that these anticipated consequences would -ensue; but 'motes they are to trouble the mind's eye.' Your sagacious -statesmen might more wisely employ their thoughts in contemplating the -more probable results of continuing your slaves in their present abject -condition. Far more reason is there to apprehend rebellion and -insurrection now, than the distant dangers you predict. Even this last -objection is vain, unsubstantial, and, at best, only speculative, -resorted to as an unction to mollify the sores of conscience. Some of -your eminent men have expressed a hope that the colored race might be -removed from the South, and from slavery, through the instrumentality of -Colonization, by which, it is expected, that they would eventually be -transported to Africa, and encouraged to establish governments for -themselves. This proposal is liable, and with more emphasis, to the -objection I advanced a while ago, when speaking of the laws which -practically discourage manumission, for, if it is a hardship (as I -contend it is) for them to be driven from their native State to one -strange and unfamiliar to them, it is increasing that severity to -require them to seek a home in Africa, whose climate is as uncongenial -to them as to us, and with whose institutions they feel as little -interest, or identity, as we do. Admit, for a moment, the practicability -of such a scheme. We should, soon after, be called upon to recognize -them as one of the nations of the earth, with whom we should treat as we -do now with the English, French, German, and other nations. I will -suggest to your Southern sages, who delight in speculations, that, in -the progress of years, they might desire, in imitation of some other -people, to accept the invitations we extend to the oppressed and unhappy -of the earth. What is there, in that case, to hinder them from -immigrating in large numbers? Could you distinguish between immigrants -of their class, and those who now settle upon our soil? Either you could -or you could not. If you could not so distinguish, you would in all -likelihood have them speedily back, in greater numbers than they come -from Green Erin, or Fader-land. Thus you would be reduced to almost the -same condition as general emancipation would bring about; but, if you -could, and did make the distinction, is it not quite likely that deadly -offence would be given to their government, which, added to their -already accumulated wrongs, would light up the fires of a more frightful -war than the intestine rebellion you have talked of; or than any that -has ever desolated this continent? Bethink yourselves of these things -amid your gloomy forebodings, and you will find them pregnant with -fearful issues. You will discover, too, the folly of longer maintaining -your burdensome system, and the wisdom of heeding whilst you may, the -counsel of the philanthropic, which urges you to just, generous, speedy, -universal emancipation. But I have fatigued you, and will stop; hoping -soon to hear that you have magnanimously redeemed the promise which I -had the gratification to hear at the commencement of our conversation." - -When Mr. Trueman paused, Mr. Winston sprang to his feet in a rage, -knocking over his chair in the excitement, and declaring that he had -most patiently listened to flimsy Abolition talk, in which there was no -shadow of argument, mere common cant; that he would advise Mr. Trueman -to be more particular in the dissemination of his dangerous and -obnoxious opinions; and, as to his own voluntary pledge, it was -conditional, and those conditions had not been complied with, and he did -not consider himself bound to redeem it. Mr. Trueman endeavored to calm -and soothe the hot-blooded Southerner; but his words had no effect upon -the illiberal man, whom he had so fairly demolished in argument. - -As they passed my hiding-place, _en route_ to their respective -apartments, I peeped out through a crevice in the door at them. It was -very easy to detect the calm, self-poised man, the thoughtful reasoner, -in the still, pale face and erect form of Trueman; whilst the red, -hot-flushed countenance, the quick, peering eye and audacious manner of -the other, revealed his unpleasant disposition and unsystematized mind. - -When the last echo of their retreating footsteps had died upon the ear, -I stole from my concealment, and ventured to my own quarters. Many new -thoughts sprang into existence in my mind, suggested by the conversation -to which I had listened. - -I venerated Mr. Trueman more than ever. No disciple ever regarded the -face of his master so reverently as I watched his countenance, when I -chanced to meet him in any part of the house. - - - - -CHAPTER XXX. - -THE MISDEMEANOR--THE PUNISHMENT--ITS CONSEQUENCE--FRIGHT. - - -The next day Miss Jane, observing my unusual thoughtfulness, said: - -"Come, now, Ann, you are not quite free. From the airs that you have put -on, one would think you had been made so." - -"What have I done, Miss Jane?" This was asked in a quiet tone, perhaps -not so obsequiously as she thought it should be. Thereupon she took -great offence. - -"How dare you, Miss, speak _to me_ in that tone? Take that," and she -dealt me a blow across the forehead with a long, limber whalebone, that -laid the flesh open. I was so stunned by it that I reeled, and should -have fallen to the floor, had I not supported myself by the bed-post. - -"Don't you dare to scream." - -I attempted to bind up my brow with a handkerchief. This she regarded as -affectation. - -"Take care, Miss Ann," she often prefixed the Miss when she was mad, by -way of taunting me; "give yourself none of those important airs. I'll -take you down a little." - -When Mr. Summerville entered, she began to cry, saying: - -"Husband, this nigger-wench has given me a great deal of impertinence. -Father never allowed it; now I want to know if you will not protect me -from such insults." - -"Certainly, my love, I'll not allow any one, white or black, to insult -you. Ann, how dare you give your mistress impudence?" - -"I did not mean it, Master William." I had thus addressed him ever since -his marriage. - -I attempted to relate the conversation that had occurred, wherein Miss -Jane thought I had been impudent, when she suddenly sprang up, -exclaiming: - -"Do you allow a negro to give testimony against your own wife?" - -"Certainly not." - -"Now, Mr. Summerville," she was getting angry with him, "I require you -to whip that girl severely; if you don't do it--why--" and she ground -her teeth fiercely. - -"I will have her whipped, my dear, but I cannot whip her." - -"Why can't you?" and the lady's eye flashed. - -"Because I should be injured by it. _Gentlemen_ do not correct negroes; -they hire others to do that sort of business." - -"Ah, well, then, hire some one who will do it well." - -"Come with me, Ann," he said to me, as I stood speechless with fear and -mortification. - -Seeing him again motion me to follow, I, forgetful of the injustice that -had been done me, and the honest resentment I should feel--forgetful of -everything but the humiliation to which they were going to subject -me--fell on my knees before Miss Jane, and besought her to excuse, to -forgive me, and I would never offend her again. - -"Don't dare to ask mercy of me. You know that I am too much like father -to spare a nigger." - -Ah, well I knew it! and vainly I sued to her. I might have known that -she rejoiced too much in the sport; and, had she been in the country, -would have asked no higher pleasure than to attend to it personally. A -negro's scream of agony was music to her ears. - -I governed myself as well as I could while I followed Mr. Summerville -through the halls and winding galleries. Down flights of steps, through -passages and lobbys we went, until at last we landed in the cellar. -There Mr. Summerville surrendered me to the care of a Mr. Monkton, the -bar-keeper of the establishment duly appointed and fitted for the office -of slave-whipping. - -"Here," said Mr. Summerville, "give this girl a good, genteel whipping; -but no cruelty, Monkton, and here is your fee;" so saying he handed him -a half-dollar, then left the dismal cellar. - -I have since read long and learned accounts of the gloomy, subterranean -cells, in which the cruel ministers of the Spanish Inquisition performed -their horrible deeds; and I think this cellar very nearly resembled -them. There it was, with its low, damp, vault-like roof; its unwholesome -air, earthen floor, covered with broken wine bottles, and oyster cans, -the debris of many a wild night's revel! There stood the monster -Monkton, with his fierce, lynx eye, his profuse black beard, and frousy -brows; a great, stalwart man, of a hard face and manner, forming no bad -picture of those wolfish inquisitors of cruel, Catholic Spain! - -Over this untempting scene a dim, waning lamp, threw its blue glare, -only rendering the place more hideous. - -"Now, girl, I am to lick you well. You see the half-dollar. Well, I'm to -git the worth of it out of your hide. Now, what would you think if I -didn't give you a single lick?" - -I looked him full in the face, and even by that equivocal light I had -power to discern his horrid purpose, and I quickly and proudly replied, - -"I should think you did your duty poorly." - -"And why?" - -"Because you engaged to do _the job_, and even received your pay in -advance; therefore, if you fail to comply with your bargain, you are not -trustworthy." - -"Wal, you're smart enough for a lawyer." - -"Well, attend to your business." - -"This is my business," and he held up a stout wagon-whip; "come, strip -off." - -"That is not a part of the contract." - -"Yes; but it's the way I always whips 'em." - -"You were not told to use me so, and I am not going to remove one -article of my clothing." - -"Yes, but you _shall_;" and he approached me, his wild eye glaring with -a lascivious light, and the deep passion-spot blazing on his cheek. - -"Girl, you've got to yield to me. I'll have you now, if it's only to -show you that I can." - -I drew back a few steps, and, seizing a broken bottle, waited, with a -deadly purpose, to see what he would do. He came so near that I almost -fancied his fetid breath played with its damnable heat upon my very -cheek. - -"You've got to be mine. I'll give you a fine calico dress, and a pretty -pair of ear-bobs!" - -This was too much for further endurance. What! must I give up the -angel-sealed honor of my life in traffic for trinkets? Where is the -woman that would not have hotly resented such an insult? - -I turned upon him like a hungry lioness, and just as his wanton hand was -about to be laid upon me, I dexterously aimed, and hurled the bottle -directly against his left temple. With a low cry of pain he fell to the -floor, and the blood oozed freely from the wound. - -As my first impression was that I had slain him, so was it my first -desperate impulse to kill myself; yet with a second thought came my -better intention, and, unlocking the door, I turned and left the gloomy -cell. I mounted the dust-covered steps, and rapidly threaded silent, -spider festooned halls, until I regained the upper courts. How beautiful -seemed the full gush of day-light to me! But the heavy weight of a -supposed crime bowed me to the earth. - -My first idea was to proceed directly to Mr. Summerville's apartment and -make a truthful statement of the affair. What he would do or have done -to me was a matter upon which I had expended no thought. My apprehension -was altogether for the safety of my soul. Homicide was so fearful a -thing, that even when committed in actual self-defence, I feared for the -justice of it. The Divine interrogatory made to Cain rang with painful -accuracy in my mental ear! "Am I my brother's keeper?" I repeated it -again and again, and I lived years in the brief space of a moment. Away -over the trackless void of the future fled imagination, painting all -things and scenes with a sombre color. - -The first recognizable person whom I met was Mr. Winston. I knew there -was but little to hope for from him, for ever since the argument between -himself and Mr. Trueman, he had appeared unusually haughty; and the -waiters said that he had become excessively overbearing, that he was -constantly knocking them around with his gold-headed cane, and swearing -that Kentucky slaves were almost as bad as Northern free negroes. - -Henry (who had become a _most dear friend of mine_) told me that Mr. -Winston had on one or two occasions, without the slightest provocation, -struck him severely over the head; but these things were pretty -generally done in the presence of Mr. Trueman, and for no higher object, -I honestly believe, than to annoy that pure-souled philanthropist. So I -was assured that he was not one to entrust with my secret, especially as -a great intimacy had sprung up between him and Miss Jane. I, therefore, -hastily passed him, and a few steps on met Mr. Trueman. How serene -appeared his chaste, marble face! Who that looked upon him, with his -quiet, reflective eye, but knew that an angel sat enthroned within his -bosom? Do not such faces help to prove the perfectibility of the race? -If, as the transcendentalists believe, these noble characters are only -types of what the _whole man_ will be, may we not expect much from the -advent of that dubious personage? - -"Mr. Trueman," I said, and my voice was clear and unfaltering, for -something in his face and manner exorcised all fear, "I have done a -fearful deed." - -"What, child?" he asked, and his eye was full of solicitude. - -I then gave him a hurried account of what had occurred in the cellar. -After a slight pause, he said: - -"The best thing for you to do will be to make instant confession to Mr. -Summerville. Alas! I fear it will go hard with you, for _you are a -slave_." - -I thanked him for the interest he had manifested in me, and passed on -to Miss Jane's room. I paused one moment at the door, before turning the -knob. What a variety of feelings were at work in my breast! Had I a -fellow-creature's blood upon my hands? I trembled in every limb, but at -length controlled myself sufficiently to enter. - -There sat Miss Jane, engaged at her crochet-work, and Master William -playing with the balls of cotton and silk in her little basket. - -"Well, Ann, I trust you've got your just deserts, a good whipping," said -Miss Jane, as she fixed her eyes upon me. - -Very calmly I related all that had occurred. Mr. Summerville sprang to -his feet and rushed from the room, whilst Miss Jane set up a series of -screams loud enough to reach the most distant part of the house. All my -services were required to keep her from swooning, or _affecting to -swoon_. - -The ladies from the adjoining rooms rushed in to her assistance, and -were soon busy chafing her hands, rubbing her feet, and bathing her -temples. - -"Isn't this terrible!" ejaculated one. - -"What _is_ the matter?" cried another. - -"Poor creature, she is hysterical," was the explanation of a third. - -I endeavored to explain the cause of Miss Jane's excitement. - -"You did right," said one lady, whose truly womanly spirit burst through -all conventionality and restraint. - -"What," said one, a genuine Southern conservative, "do you say it was -right for a slave to oppose and resist the punishment which her master -had directed?" - -"Certainly not; but it was right for a female, no matter whether white -or black, to resist, even to the shedding of blood, the lascivious -advances of a bold libertine." - -"Do you believe the girl's story?" - -"Yes; why not?" - -"I don't; it bears the impress of falsehood on its very face." - -"No," added another Kentucky true-blue, "Mr. Monkton was going to whip -her, and she resisted him. That's the correct version of the story, I'll -bet my life on it." - -To all of this aspersion upon myself, I was bound to be a silent -auditor, yet ever obeying their slightest order to hand them water, -cologne, &c. Is not this slavery indeed? - -When Mr. Summerville left the room, he hastily repaired to the bar, -where he made the story known, and getting assistance, forthwith went to -the cellar, Mr. Winston forming one of the party of investigation. His -Southern prejudices were instantly aroused, and he was ready "to do or -die" for the propogation of the "peculiar institution." - -The result of their trip was to find Monkton very feeble from the loss -of blood, and suffering from the cut made by the broken bottle, but with -enough life left in him for the fabrication of a falsehood, which was of -course believed, as he had a _white face_. He stated that he had -proceeded to the administration of the whipping, directed by my master; -that I resisted him; and finding it necessary to bind me, he was -attempting to do so, when I swore that I would kill him, and that -suiting the action to the word, I hurled the broken bottle at his -temples. - -When Mr. Summerville repeated this to Miss Jane, in my presence, stating -that it was the testimony that Monkton was prepared to give in open -court, for I was to be arrested, I could not refrain from uttering a cry -of surprise, and saying: - -"Mr. Monkton has misrepresented the case, as 'I can show.'" - -"Yes, but you will not be allowed to give evidence," said Master -William. - -"Will Mr. Monkton's testimony be taken?" I inquired. - -"Certainly, but a negro cannot bear witness against a white person." - -I said nothing, but many thoughts were troubling me. - -"You see, Ann, what your bad conduct has brought _you to_," said Miss -Jane. - -Again I attempted to tell the facts of the case, and defend myself, but -she interrupted me, saying: - -"Do you suppose I believe a word of that? I can assure you I do not, -and, moreover, I'm not going to spend my money to have a lawyer employed -to keep you from the punishment you so richly deserve. So you must -content yourself to take the public hanging or whipping in the jail -yard, which is the penalty that will be affixed to your crime." Turning -to Mr. Summerville, she added, "I think it will do Ann good, for it will -take down her pride, and make her a valuable nigger. She has been too -proud of her character; for my part, I had rather she had had less -virtue. I've always thought she was virtuous because she did not want us -to increase in property, and was too proud to have her children live in -bondage." - -I dared not make any remark; but there I stood in dread of the -approaching arrest, which came full soon. - -As I was sewing for Miss Jane, Mr. Summerville opened the door, and said -to a rough man, pointing to me-- - -"There's the girl." - -"Come along with me to jail, gal." - -How fearfully sounded the command. The jail-house was a place of terror, -and though I had in my brief life "supped full of horrors," this was a -new species of torture that I had hoped to leave untasted. - -Taking with me nothing but my bonnet, I followed Constable Calcraft down -stairs into the street. Upon one of the landings I met Henry, and I knew -from his kindly mournful glance, that he gave me all his compassion. - -"Good-bye, Ann," he said, extending his hand to me, "good-bye, and keep -of good cheer; the Lord will be with you." I looked at him, and saw that -his lip was quivering; and his dark eye glittered with a furtive tear. I -dared not trust my voice, so, with a grateful pressure of the hand, I -passed him by, keeping up my composure right stoutly. At the foot of the -stair I met Louise, who was weeping. - -"I believe you, Ann, we all believe you, and the Lord will make it -appear on the day of your trial that you are right, only keep up your -spirits, and read this," and she slipped a little pocket-Testament into -my hand, which was a welcome present. - -Now, I thought, the last trial is over. All the tender ones who love me -have spoken their comforting words, and I may resume my pride and -hauteur; but no--standing within the vestibule was the man whom I -reverenced above all others, Mr. Trueman. One effort more, and then I -might be calm; but before the sunshine of his kindliness the snow and -ice of my pride melted and passed away in showers of tears. The first -glance of his pitying countenance made me weep. I was weary and -heavy-laden, and, even as to a mortal brother, I longed to pour into his -ear the pent-up agony of my soul. - -"Poor girl," he said kindly, as he offered me his white and -finely-formed hand, "I believe you innocent; there is that in your -clear, womanly look, your unaffected utterance, that proves to me you -are worthy to be heard. Trust in God." - -Oh, can I ever forget the diamond-like glister of his blue eyes! and -_that tear_ was evoked from its fountain for my sorrow; even then I felt -a thrill of joy. We love to have the sympathy and confidence of the -truly great. I made no reply, in words, to Mr. Trueman, but he -understood me. - -Conducted by the constable, I passed through a number of streets, all -crowded with the busy and active, perhaps the _happy_. Ah, what a fable -that word seemed to express! I used to doubt every smiling face I saw, -and think it a _radiant lie_! but, since then, though in a subdued -sense, I have learned that mortals may be happy. - -We stopped, after a long walk, in front of a large building of Ionic -architecture, and of dark brown stone, ornamented by beautiful flutings, -with a tasteful slope of rich sward in front, adorned with a variety of -flowers and shrubbery. Through this we passed and reached the first -court, which was surrounded by a high stone-wall. Passing through a low -door-way, we stood on the first pave; here I was surrendered to the -keeping of the jailer, a man apparently devoid of generosity and -humanity. After hearing from Constable Calcraft an account of the crime -for which I was committed, he observed-- - -"A sassy, impudent, _on_ruly gal, I guess; we have plenty _sich_; this -will larn her a lessin. Come with me," he said, as he turned his -besotted face toward me. - -Through dirty, dark, filthy passages I went, until we reached a gloomy, -loathsome apartment, in which he rudely thrust me, saying-- - -"Thar's your quarters." - -Such a place as it was! A small room of six by eight, with a dirty, -discolored floor, over which rats and mice scampered _ad libitum_. One -miserable little iron grate let in a stray ray of daylight, only -revealing those loathsome things which the friendly darkness would have -concealed. Cowering in the corner of this wretched pen was a poor, -neglected white woman, whose face seemed unacquainted with soap and -water, and her hair tagged, ragged, and unused to comb or brush. She -clasped to her breast a weasly suckling, that every now and then gave a -sickly cry, indicative of the cholic or a heated atmosphere. - -"Poor comfort!" said the woman, as I entered, "poor comfort here, whare -the starved wretches are cryin' for ar. My baby has bin a sinkin' ever -sense I come here. I'd not keer much if we could both die." - -"For what are you to be tried?" - -"For takin' a loaf of bread to keep myself and child from starvin'." - -She then asked me for what I stood accused. I told her my story, and we -grew quite talkative and sociable, thereby realizing the old axiom, -"Misery loves company." - - * * * * * * * - -For several days I lingered on thus, diversifying the time only by -reading my Testament, the gift of Louise, and occasionally having a long -talk with my companion, whom I learned to address by the name of Fanny. -She was a woman of remarkably sensitive feelings, quick and warm in all -her impulses; just such a creature as an education and kindly training -would have made lovely and lovable; but she had been utterly -neglected--had grown up a complete human weed. - -Our meals were served round to us upon a large wooden drawer, as filthy -as dirt and grease could make it. The cuisine dashed our rations, a -slice of fat bacon and "pone" of corn bread to us, with as little -ceremony as though we had been dogs; and we were allowed one blanket to -sleep on. - -One day, when I felt more than usually gloomy, I was agreeably -disappointed, as the cumbersome door opened to admit my kind friend -Louise. The jailer remarked: - -"You may stay about a quarter of an hour, but no longer." - -"Thank you, sir," she replied. - -"This is very kind of you, Louise," for I was touched by the visit. - -"I wanted to see you, Ann; and look what I brought you!" She held a -beautiful bouquet to me. - -"Thank you, thank you a thousand times, this _is_ too kind," I said, as -I watered the lovely flowers with my tears. - -"Oh, they were sent to you," she answered, with a smile. - -"And who sent them?" - -"Why, Henry, of course;" and again she smiled. - -I know not why, but I felt the blood rushing warmly to my face, as I -bent my head very low, to conceal a confusion which I did not -understand. - -"But here is something that I did bring you," and, opening a basket, she -drew out a nice, tempting pie, some very delicious fruit cake, and white -bread. - -"I suppose your fare is miserable?" - -"Oh, worse than miserable." - -Fanny drew near me, and without the least timidity, stretched forth her -hand. - -"Oh, please give me some, only a little; I'm nearly starved?" - -I freely gave her the larger portion, for she could enjoy it. I had the -flowers, the blessed flowers, that Henry had sent, and they were food -and drink for me! - -Louise informed me that, since my arrest, she had cleared up and -arranged Miss Jane's room; and she thought it was Mr. Summerville's -intention to sell me after the trial. - -"Have you heard who will buy me?" I asked. - -"Oh, no, I don't suppose an offer has yet been made; nor do I know that -it is their positive intention to sell you; but that is what I judged -from their conversation." - -"If they get me a good master I am very willing to be sold; for I could -not find a worse home than I have now." - -"I expect if he sells you, it will be to a trader; but, keep up your -heart and spirits. Remember, 'sufficient for the day is the evil -thereof.' But I hear the sound of footsteps; the jailer is coming; my -quarter of an hour is out." - -"How came he to admit you?" - -"Oh, I know Mr. Trayton very well. I've washed for his wife, and she -owes me a little bill of a couple of dollars; so when I came here, I -said by way of a bait, 'Now, Mrs. Trayton, I didn't come to dun you, -I'll make you a present of that little bill;' then she and he were both -in a mighty good humor with me. I then said, 'I've got a friend here, -and I'd take it as a favor if you'd let me see her for a little while.'" - -"Mr. Trayton said:" - -"'Oh, that can't be--it's against the rules.'" - -"So his wife set to work, and persuaded him that he owed me a favor, and -he consented to let me see you for a quarter of an hour only. Before he -comes, tell me what message I am to give Henry for you. I know he will -be anxious to hear." - -Again I felt the blood tingling in my veins, and overspreading my face. -I began to play with my flowers, and muttered out something about -gratitude for the welcome present, a message which, incoherent as it -was, her woman's wit knew to be sincere and gracious. After a few -moments the jailer came, saying: - -"Louise, your time is up." - -"I am ready to go," and she took up her basket. After bidding me a kind -adieu she departed, carrying with her much of the sunshine which her -presence had brought, but not all of it, for she left with me a ray or -so to illumine the darkened cell of recollection. There on my lap lay -the blooming flowers, _his_ gift! Flowers are always a joy to us--they -gladden and beautify our outer and every-day life; they preach us a -sermon of beauty and love; but to the weary, lonely captive, in his -dismal cell, they are particularly beautiful! They speak to him in a -voice which nothing else can, of the glory of the sun-lit world, from -which he is exiled. Thanks to God for flowers! Rude, and coarse, and -vile must be the nature that can trample them with unhallowed feet! - -There I sat toying with them, inhaling their mystic odor, and -luxuriating upon the delicacy of their ephemeral beauty. All flowers -were dear to me; but these were particularly precious, and wherefore? Is -there a single female heart that will not divine "the wherefore"? You, -who are clad in satin, and decked with jewels, albeit your face is as -white as snow, cannot boast of emotions different from ours? Feeling, -emotion, is the same in the African and the white woman? We are made of -the same clay, and informed by the same spirit. - -The better portion of the night I sat there, sadly wakeful, still -clutching those flowers to my breast, and covering them with kisses. - -The heavy breathing of my companion sounded drowsily in my ear, yet -never wooed me to a like repose. Thus wore on the best part of the -night, until the small, shadowy hours, when I sank to a sweet dream. I -was wandering in a rich garden of tropical flowers, with Henry by my -side! Through enchanted gates we passed, hand in hand, singing as we -went. Long and dreamily we loitered by low-gurgling summer fountains, -listening to the lulling wail of falling water. Then we journeyed on -toward a fairy flower-palace, that loomed up greenly in the distance, -which ever, as we approached it, seemed to recede further. - -I awoke before we reached the floral palace, and I am womanly enough to -confess, that I felt annoyed that the dream had been broken by the cry -of Fanny's babe. I puzzled myself trying to read its import. Are there -many women who would have differed from me? Yet I was distressed to -find Fanny's little boy-babe very sick, so much so as to require -medical attention; but, alas! she was too poor to offer remuneration to -a doctor, therefore none was sent for; and, as the child was attacked -with croup, it actually died for the want of medical attention. And this -occurred in a community boasting of its enlightenment and Christianity, -and in a city where fifty-two churches reared their gilded domes and -ornamented spires, in a God-fearing and God-serving community, proud of -its benevolent societies, its hospitals, &c. In what, I ask, are these -Christians better than the Pharisees of old, who prayed long, well, and -much, in their splendid temples? - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI. - -THE DAY OF TRIAL--ANXIETY--THE VOLUNTEER COUNSEL--VERDICT OF THE JURY. - - -The day of my trial dawned as fair and bright as any that ever broke -over the sinful world. It rose upon my slumber mildly, and without -breaking its serenity. I slept better on the night preceding the trial, -than I had done since my incarceration. - -I knew that I was friendless and alone, and on the eve of a trial -wherein I stood accused of a fearful crime; that I was defenceless; yet -I rested my cause with Him, who has bidden the weary and heavy-laden to -come unto Him, and He will give them rest. Strong in this consciousness, -I sank to the sweetest slumber and the rosiest dreams. Through my mind -gracefully flitted the phantom of Henry. - -When Fanny woke me to receive my unrelished breakfast, she said: - -"You've forgot that this is the day of trial; you sleep as unconsarned -as though the trial was three weeks off. For my part, now that the baby -is dead, I don't kere much what becomes of me." - -"My cause," I replied, "is with God. To His keeping I have confided -myself; therefore, I can sleep soundly." - -"Have you got any lawyer?" - -"No; I am a slave, and my master will not employ one." - -After a few hours we heard the sound of a bell, that announced the -opening of court. The jailer conducted me out of the jail yard into the -Court House. It was the first time I had ever seen the interior of a -court-room, when the court was in full session, and I was not very much -edified by the sight. - -The outside of the building was very tasteful and elegant, with most -ornate decorations; but the interior was shocking. In the first place it -was unfinished, and the bald, unplastered walls struck me as being -exceedingly comfortless. Then the long, redundant cobwebs were gathered -in festoons from rafter to rafter, whilst the floor was fairly -tesselated with spots of tobacco-juice, which had been most dexterously -ejected from certain _legal_ orifices, commonly known as the _mouths of -lawyers_, who, for want of opportunity to _speak_, resorted to chewing. - -The judge, a lazy-looking old gentleman, sat in a time-worn arm-chair, -ready to give his decision in the case of the Commonwealth _versus_ Ann, -slave of William Summerville; and seeming to me very much as though his -opinion was made up without a hearing. - -And there, ranged round his Honor, were the practitioners and members of -the bar, all of them in seedy clothes, unshorn and unshaven. Here and -there you would find a veteran of the bar, who claimed it as his -especial privilege to outrage the King's or the President's English and -common decency; and, as a matter of course, all the younger ones were -aiming to imitate him; but, as it was impossible to do that in ability, -they succeeded, to admiration, in copying his ill-manners. - -Two of them I particularly noticed, as I sat in the prisoner's dock, -awaiting the "coming up of my case." One of them the Court frequently -addressed as Mr. Spear, and a very pointless spear he seemed;--a little, -short, chunky man, with yellow, stiff, bristling hair, that stood out -very straight, as if to declare its independence of the brain, and away -it went on its owner's well-defined principle of "going it on your own -hook." He had a little snub of a nose that possessed the good taste to -turn away in disgust from its neighbor, a tobacco-stained mouth of no -particular dimensions, and, I should judge from the sneer of the said -nose, of no very pleasant odor; little, hard, flinty, grizzly-gray eyes, -that seemed to wink as though they were afraid of seeing the truth. -Altogether, it was the most disagreeably-comic phiz that I remember ever -to have seen. To complete the ludicrous picture, he was a -self-sufficient body, quite elate at the idea of speaking "in public on -the stage." His speech was made up of the frequent repetition of "my -client claims" so and so, and "may it please your Honor," and "I'll call -the attention of the Court to the fact," and such like phrases, but -whether his client was guilty of the charge set forth in the indictment, -he neither proved nor disproved. - -The other individual whom I remarked, was a great, fat, flabby man, -whose flesh (like that of a rhinoceros) hung loosely on the bones. He -seemed to consider personal ease, rather than taste, in the arrangement -of his toilet; for he appeared in the presence of the court in a pair of -half-worn slippers, stockings "down-gyved," a shirt-bosom much spotted -with tobacco-juice, and a neck-cloth loosely adjusted about his red, -beefish throat. His little watery blue eye reminded me forcibly of -skimmed milk; whilst his big nose, as red as a peony, told the story -that he was no advocate of the Maine liquor law, and that he had "_voted -for license_." - -He was said, by some of the bystanders, to have made an excellent speech -adverse to his client, and in favor of the side against which he was -employed. - -"Hurrah for litigation," said an animadverter who stood in proximity to -me. After awhile, and in due course of docket, my case came up. - -"Has she no counsel?" asked the judge. - -After a moment's pause, some one answered, "No; she has none." - -I felt a chill gathering at my heart, for there was a slight movement in -the crowd; and, upon looking round, I discovered Mr. Trueman making his -way through the audience. After a few words with several members of the -bar and the judge, he was duly sworn in, and introduced to the Court as -Mr. Trueman, a lawyer from Massachusetts, who desired to be admitted as -a practitioner at this bar. Thus duly qualified, he volunteered his -services in my defence. The look which I gave him came directly from my -overflowing heart, and I am sure spoke my thanks more effectual than -words could have done. But he gave me no other recognition than a faint -smile. - -As the case began, my attention was arrested. The jury was selected -without difficulty; for, as none of the panel had heard of the case, the -counsel waived the privilege of challenging. After the reading of the -indictment, setting forth formally "an assault upon Mr. Monkton, with -intent to kill, by one Ann, slave of William Summerville," the -Commonwealth's attorney introduced Mr. Monkton himself as the only -witness in the case. - -In a very minute and evidently pre-arranged story, he proceeded to -detail the circumstances of a violent and deadly assault, which seemed -to impress the jury greatly to my prejudice. When he had concluded, the -prosecutor remarked that he had no further evidence, and proposed to -submit the case, without argument, to the jury, as Mr. Trueman had no -witnesses in my favor. To this proposal, however, Mr. Trueman would not -accede; and so the prosecutor briefly argued upon the testimony and the -law applicable to it. Then Mr. Trueman rose, and a thrill seemed to run -through the audience as his tall, commanding form stood proud and erect, -his mild saint-like eyes glowing with a fire that I had never seen -before. He began by endeavoring to disabuse the minds of the jury of the -very natural ill-feeling they might entertain against a slave, supposed -to have made an attack upon the life of a white man; reviewed at length -the distinctions which are believed, at the South, to exist between the -two races; and dwelt especially upon those oppressive enactments which -virtually place the life of a slave at the mercy of even the basest of -the white complexion. Passing from these general observations, he -examined, with scrutiny the prepared story of Mr. Monkton, showing it to -be a vile fabrication of defeated malice, flatly contradictory in -essential particulars, and utterly unworthy of reliance under the wise -maxim of the law, that "being false in one thing, it was false in all." -In conclusion, he made a stirring appeal to the jury, exhorting them to -rescue this feeble woman from the foul machinations which had been -invented for her ruin; to rebuke, by their righteous verdict, this -swift and perjured witness; and to vindicate before the world the honor -of their dear old Commonwealth, which was no less threatened by this -ignominious proceeding than the safety of his poor and innocent client. - -The officers of the Court could scarcely repress the applause which -succeeded this appeal. - -"Finally, gentlemen," resumed Mr. Trueman, "permit me to take back to my -Northern home the warm, personal testimony to your love of justice, -which, unbiased by considerations of color, is dealt out to high and -low, rich and poor, white and black, with equal and impartial hands. -Disarm, by your verdict in this instance, the reproach by which Kentucky -may hereafter be assailed when her enemies shall taunt her with -injustice and cruelty. It has long been said, at the North, that 'the -South cannot show justice to a slave.' Now, gentlemen, 'tis for you, in -the character of sworn jurors, to disprove, by your verdict, this -oft-repeated, and, alas! in too many instances, well-authenticated -charge. And I conjure you as men, as Christians, as jurors, to deal -justly, kindly, humanely with this poor uncared-for slave-woman. As you -are men and fathers, slave-holders even, show her justice, and, if need -be, mercy, as in like circumstances you would have these dispensed to -your own daughters or slaves. She is a woman, it may be an uncultured -one; this place, this Court, is strange to her. There she sits alone, -and seemingly friendless, in the dock. Where was her master? Had he -prepared or engaged an advocate? No, sir; he left her helpless and -undefended; but that God, alike the God of the Jew and the Gentile, has, -in the hour of her need, raised up for her a friend and advocate. And be -ye, Gentlemen of the Jury, also the friend of the neglected female! By -all the artlessness of her sex, she appeals to you to rescue her name -from this undeserved aspersion, and her body from the tortures of the -lash or the halter. Mark, with your strongest reprobation, that lying -accuser of the powerless, who, thwarted in the attempt to violate one -article in the Decalogue, has here, and in your presence, accomplished -the outrage of another, invoking upon his soul, with unholy lips, the -maledictions with which God will sooner or later overwhelm the perjurer. -Look at him now as he cowers beneath my words. His blanched cheek and -shrivelling eye denote the detected villain. He dares not, like an -honest, truth-telling man, face the charges arrayed against him. No, -conscious guilt and wicked passion are bowing him now to the earth. Dare -he look me full in the eye? No; for he fears lest I, with a lawyer's -skill, should draw out and expose the malicious fiend that has urged him -on to the persecution of the innocent and defenceless. Send him from -your midst with the brand of severest condemnation, as an example of the -fate which awaits a false witness in the Courts of the Commonwealth of -Kentucky. Restore to this prisoner the peace of mind which has been -destroyed by this prosecution. Thus you will provide for yourselves a -source of consolation through all the future, and I shall thank heaven -with my latest breath for the chance that threw me, a stranger, in your -city to-day, and led me to this temple of justice to urge your minds to -the right conclusion." - -He sat down amid such thunders of applause as incurred the censure of -the judge. When order was restored, the Commonwealth's attorney rose to -close the case. He said "he could see no reason for doubting the -veracity of his witness whom the opposition had so strenuously -endeavored to impeach. For his own part, he had long known Mr. Monkton, -and had always regarded him as a man of truth. The present was the first -attempt at his impeachment that he had ever heard of; and he felt -perfectly satisfied that Mr. Monkton would survive it. Had he been the -character which his adversary had described, it might have been possible -to find some witness who could invalidate his testimony. No one, -however, has appeared; and I take it that no one exists. The gentleman -would do well to observe a little more caution before he attacks so -recklessly the reputation of a man." - -Mr. Trueman rising, requested the prosecutor to indulge him for one -moment. - -"Certainly," was the reply. - -"I desire the jury and the Court to remember," said Mr. Trueman, "that I -made no attack upon the _reputation_ of the witness in this case. -Doubtless _that_ is all which it is claimed to be. I freely concede it; -but the earnest prosecutor must permit me to distinguish between -_reputation_ and _character_. I did assail the character of the man, but -not hypothetically or by shrewd conjectures; 'out of his own mouth I -condemned him.' This is not the first instance of crime committed by a -man, who, up to the period of transgression, stood fair before the -world. The gentleman's own library will supply abundant proofs of the -success of strong temptation in its encounters with even _established -virtue_; and I care not if this willing witness could bolster up his -reputation with the voluntary affidavits of hosts of friends; his own -testimony, to-day, would have still produced and riveted the conviction -of his really base character. I thank the gentleman for his indulgence." - -The prosecutor continuing, endeavored to show that the testimony was, -upon its face, entirely credible, and ought to have its weight with the -jury. He labored hard to reconcile its many and material contradictions, -reiterated his own opinion of the witness as a man of truth; and, with -an inflammatory warning against the _Abolition counsel_, who, he said, -was perhaps now "meditating in our midst some sinister design against -the peculiar institution of the South," he ended his fiery harangue. - -When he had taken his seat, Mr. Trueman addressed the Court as follows: - -"Before the jury retire, may it please your Honor, as the case is of a -serious nature, and as we have no witness for the defence, I would ask -permission merely to repeat the version of the circumstances of this -case detailed to me by the prisoner at the bar. Such a statement, I am -aware, is not legal evidence; but if, in your clemency, you would permit -it to go to the jury simply for what it is worth, the course of justice -I am sure would by no means be impeded." - -The judge readily consented to this request, and Mr. Trueman rehearsed -my story, as narrated in the foregoing pages. - -The Commonwealth's attorney then rejoined with a few remarks. - -After a retirement of a few minutes, the jury returned with a verdict of -"guilty as charged in the indictment," ordering me to receive two -hundred lashes on my bare back, not exceeding fifty at a time. I was -then remanded to jail to await the execution of my sentence. - -Very gloomy looked that little room to me when I returned to it, with a -horrid crime of which, Heaven knows, I was guiltless, affixed to my -name, and the prospect of a cruel punishment awaiting me. Who may tell -the silent, unexpressed agony that I there endured? Certain I am, that -the nightly stars and the old pale moon looked not down upon a more -wretched heart. There I sat, looking ever and again at the stolid Fanny, -who had been sentenced to the work-house for a limited time. Since the -death of her infant she had lost all her loquacity, and remained in a -kind of dreamy, drowsy state, between waking and sleeping. - -Through how many scenes of vanished days, worked the plough-share of -memory, upturning the fresh earth, where lay the buried seeds of some -few joys! And, sometimes, a sly, nestling thought of Henry hid itself -away in the most covert folds of my heart. His melancholy bronze face -had cut itself like a fine cameo, on my soul. The old, withered flowers, -which he had sent, lay carefully concealed in a corner of the cell. -Their beauty had departed like a dim dream; but a little of their -fragrance still remained despite decay. - -One day, after the trial, I was much honored and delighted by a visit -from no less a personage than Mr. Trueman himself. - -I was overcome, and had not power to speak the thanks with which my -grateful heart ran over. He kindly pitied my embarrassment, and relieved -me by saying, - -"Oh, I know you are thankful to me. I only wish, my good girl, that my -speech had rescued you from the punishment you have to suffer. Believe -me, I deeply pity you; and, if money could avert the penalty which I -know you have not merited, I would relieve you from its infliction; but -nothing more can be done for you. You must bear your trouble bravely." - -"Oh, my kind, noble friend!" I passionately exclaimed, "words like these -would arm me with strength to brave a punishment ten times more severe -than the one that awaits me. Sympathy from you can repay me for any -suffering. That a noble white gentleman, of distinguished talents, -should stoop from his lofty position to espouse the cause of a poor -mulatto, is to me as pleasing as it is strange." - -"Alas, my good girl, you and all of your wronged and injured race are -objects of interest and affection to me. I would that I could give you -something more available than sympathy: but these Southerners are a -knotty people; their prejudices of caste and color grow out, unsightly -and disgusting, like the rude excrescences upon a noble tree, eating it -away, and sucking up its vital sap. These Western people are of a noble -nature, were it not for their sectional blemishes. I never relied upon -the many statements which I have heard at the North, taking them as -natural exaggerations; but my sojourn here has proved them to be true." - -I then told him of the discussion that I had overheard between him and -Mr. Winston. - -"Did you hear that?" he asked with a smile. "Winston has been very cool -toward me ever since; yet he is a man with some fine points of -character, and considerable mental cultivation. This one Southern -feeling, or rather prejudice, however, has well-nigh corrupted him. He -is too fiery and irritable to argue; but all Southerners are so. They -cannot allow themselves to discuss these matters. Witness, for instance, -the conduct of their Congressional debaters. Do they reason? Whenever a -matter is reduced to argumentation, the Southerner flies off at a -tangent, resents everything as personal, descends to abuse, and thus -closes the debate." - -I ventured to ask him some questions in relation to Fred Douglas; to all -of which he returned satisfactory answers. He informed me that Douglas -had once been a slave; that he was now a man of social position; of -very decided talent and energy. "I know of no man," continued Mr. -Trueman, "who is more deserving of public trust than Douglas. He -conducts himself with extreme modesty and propriety, and a quiet dignity -that inclines the most fastidious in his favor." - -He then cited the case of Miss Greenfield (_the_ black swan), showing -that my race was susceptible of cultivation and refinement in a high -degree. - -Thus inspired, I poured forth my full soul to him. I told him how, in -secret, I had studied; how diligently I had searched after knowledge; -how I longed for the opportunity to improve my poor talents. I spoke -freely, and with a degree of nervous enthusiasm that seemed to affect -him. - -"Ann," he said, and large tears stood in his eyes, "it is a shame for -you to be kept in bondage. A proud, aspiring soul like yours, if once -free to follow its impulses, might achieve much. Can you not labor to -buy yourself? At odd times do extra work, and, by your savings, you may, -in the course of years, be enabled to buy yourself." - -"My dear sir, I've no 'odd times' for extra work, or I would gladly -avail myself of them. Lazy I am not; but my mistress requires all my -time and labor. If she were to discover that I was working, even at -night for myself, she would punish me severely." - -I said this in a mournful tone; for I felt that despair was my portion. -He was silent for awhile; then said, - -"Well, you must do the best you can. I would that I could advise you; -but now I must leave. A longer stay would excite suspicion. You heard -what they said the other day about Abolitionists." - -I remembered it well, and was distressed to think that he had been -abused on my account. - -With many kind words he took his leave, and I felt as if the sunshine -had suddenly been extinguished. - -During his entire visit poor Fanny had slept. She lay like one in an -opium trance. For hours after his departure she remained so, and much -time was left me for reflection. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII. - -EXECUTION OF THE SENTENCE--A CHANGE--HOPE. - - -On the last and concluding day of the term of the court, the jailer -signified to me that the constable would, on the morrow, administer the -first fifty lashes; and, of course, I passed the night in great -trepidation. - -But the morning came bright and clear, and the jailer, accompanied by -Constable Calcraft, entered. - -"Come, girl," said the latter, "I have to execute the sentence upon -you." - -Without one word, I followed him into the jail yard. - -"Strip yourself to the waist," said the constable. - -I dared not hesitate, though feminine delicacy was rudely shocked. With -a prayer to heaven for fortitude, I obeyed. - -Then, with a strong cowhide, he inflicted fifty lashes (the first -instalment of the sentence) upon my bare back; each lacerating it to the -bone. I was afterwards compelled to put my clothes on over my raw, -bloody back, without being allowed to wash away the clotted gore; for, -upon asking for water to cleanse myself, I was harshly refused, and -quickly re-conducted to the cell, where, wounded, mortified, and -anguish-stricken, I was left to myself. - -Oh, God of the world-forgotten Africa! Thou dost see these things; Thou -dost hear the cries which daily and nightly we are sending up to Thee! -On that lonely, wretched night Thou wert with me, and my prison became -as a radiant mansion, for angels cheered me there! Glory to God for the -cross which He sent me; for it led me on to Him. - -Poor Fanny, after her sentence was pronounced, was soon sent to the -work-house; so I was alone. The little Testament which Louise had given -me, was all the company that I desired. Its rich and varied words were -as manna to my hungry soul; and its blessed promises rescued me from a -dreadful bankruptcy of faith. - -Subsequently, and at three different times, I was led forth to receive -the remainder of my punishment. - -After the last portion was given, I was allowed to go to the kitchen of -the jail and wash myself and dress in some clean clothes, which Miss -Jane had sent me. I was then conducted by the constable to the hotel. - -Miss Jane met me very distantly, saying-- - -"I trust you are somewhat humbled, Ann, and will in future be a better -nigger." - -I was in but a poor mood to take rebukes and reproaches; for my flesh -was perfectly raw, the intervals between the whippings having been so -short as not to allow the gashes even to close; so that upon this, the -final day, my back presented one mass of filth and clotted gore. I was -then, as may be supposed, in a very irritable humor, but a slave is not -allowed to have feeling. It is a privilege denied him, because his skin -is black. - -I did not go out of Miss Jane's room, except on matters of business, -about which she sent me. I would, then, go slipping around, afraid of -meeting Henry. I did not wish him to see me in that mutilated condition. -I saw Louise in Miss Jane's room; but there she merely nodded to me. -Subsequently we met in a retired part of the hall, and there she -expressed that generous and friendly sympathy which I knew she so warmly -cherished for me. - -Somehow or other she had contrived to insinuate herself wondrously into -Miss Jane's good graces; and all her influence she endeavored to use in -my favor. - -In this private interview she told me that she would induce Miss Jane -to let me sleep in her room; and she thought she knew what key to take -her on. - -"If," added she, "I get you to my apartment, I will care for you well. I -will wash and dress your wounds, and render you every attention in my -power." - -I watched, with admiration, her tactics in managing Miss Jane. That -evening when I was seated in an obscure corner of the room, Miss Jane -was lolling in a large arm-chair, playing with a bouquet that had been -sent her by a gentleman. This bouquet had been delivered to her, as I -afterwards learned, by Louise. Miss Jane had grown to be fashionable -indeed; and had two favorite beaux, with whom she interchanged notes, -and Louise had been selected as a messenger. - -On this occasion, the wily mulatto came up to her, rather familiarly, I -thought, and said-- - -"Ah, you are amusing yourself with the Captain's flowers! I must tell -him of it. Dear sakes! but it will please him;" she then whispered -something to her, at which both of them laughed heartily. - -After this Miss Jane was in a very decided good humor, and Louise fussed -about the apartment pretty much as she pleased. At length, throwing open -the window, she cried out-- - -"How close the air is here! Why, Mrs. St. Lucian, the fashionable, -dashing lady who occupied this room just before you, Mrs. Somerville, -wouldn't allow three persons to be in it at a time; and her servant-girl -always slept in my room. By the way, that just reminds me how impolite -I've been to you; do excuse me, and I will be glad to relieve you by -letting Ann go to my room of nights." - -"Oh, it will trouble you, Louise." - -"Don't talk or think of troubling me; but come along girl," she said, -turning to me. - -"Go with Louise, Ann," added Miss Jane, as she perceived me hesitate, -"but come early in the morning to get me ready for breakfast." - -Happy even for so small a favor as this, I followed Louise to her room. -There I found everything very comfortable and neat. A nice, downy bed, -with its snowy covering; a bright-colored carpet, a little bureau, -washstand, clock, rocking-chair, and one or two pictures, with a few -crocks of flowers, completed the tasteful furniture of this apartment. - -All this, I inly said, is the arrangement and taste of a mulatto in the -full enjoyment of her freedom! Do not her thrift and industry disprove -the oft-repeated charge of indolence that is made upon the negro race? - -She seemed to read my thoughts, and remarked, "You are surprised, Ann, -to see my room so nice! I read the wonder in your face. I have marked it -before, in the countenances of slaves. They are taught, from their -infancy up, to regard themselves as unfit for the blessings of free, -civilized life; and I am happy to give the lie, by my own manner of -living, to this rude charge." - -"How long have you been free, Louise, and how did you obtain your -freedom?" - -"It is a long story," she answered; "you must be inclined to sleep; you -need rest. At some other time I'll tell you. Here, take this arm-chair, -it is soft; and your back is wounded and sore; I am going to dress it -for you." - -So saying, she left the room, but quickly returned with a basin of warm -water and a little canteen of grease. She very kindly bade me remove my -dress, then gently, with a soft linten-rag, washed my back, greased it, -and made me put on one of her linen chemises and a nice gown, and giving -me a stimulant, bade me rest myself for the night upon her bed, which -was clean, white, and tempting. - -When she thought I was soundly sleeping, she removed from a little -swinging book-shelf a well-worn Bible. After reading a chapter or so, -she sank upon her knees in prayer! There may be those who would laugh -and scoff at the piety of this woman, because of her tawny complexion; -but the Great Judge, to whose ear alone her supplication was made, -disregards all such distinctions. Her soul was as precious to Him, as -though her complexion had been of the most spotless snow. - -On the following morning, whilst I was arranging Miss Jane's toilette, -she said to me, in rather a kind tone: - -"Ann, Mr. Summerville wants to sell you, and purchase a smaller and -cheaper girl for me. Now, if you behave yourself well, I'll allow you to -choose your own home." - -This was more kindness than I expected to receive from her, and I -thanked her heartily. - -All that day my heart was dreaming of a new home--perhaps a kind, good -one! On the gallery I met Mr. Trueman (I love to write his name). -Rushing eagerly up to him, I offered my hand, all oblivious of the wide -chasm that the difference of race had placed between us; but, if that -thought had occurred to me, his benignant smile would have put it to -flight. Ah, he was the true reformer, who illustrated, in his own -deportment, the much talked-of theory of human brotherhood! He, with all -his learning, his native talent, his social position and legal -prominence, could condescend to speak in a familiar spirit to the -lowliest slave, and this made me, soured to harshness, feel at ease in -his presence. - -I told him that I was fast recovering from the effects of my whipping. I -spoke of Louise's kindness, &c. - -"I am to be sold, Mr. Trueman; I wish that you would buy me." - -"My good girl, if I had the means I would not hesitate to make the -purchase, and instantly draw up your free papers; but I am, at the -present, laboring under great pecuniary embarrassments, which deny me -the right of exercising that generosity which my heart prompts in this -case." - -I thanked him, over and over again, for his kindness. I felt not a -little distressed when he told me that he should leave for Boston early -on the following day. In bidding me adieu, he slipped, very modestly, -into my hand a ten-dollar bill, but this I could not accept from one to -whom I was already heavily indebted. - -"No, my good friend, I cannot trespass so much upon you. Already I am -largely your debtor. Take back this money." I offered him the bill, but -his face colored deeply, as he replied: - -"No, Ann, you would not wound my feelings, I am sure." - -"Not for my freedom," I earnestly answered. - -"Then accept this trifling gift. Let it be among the first of your -savings, as my contribution, toward the purchase-money for your -freedom." Seeing that I hesitated, he said, "if you persist in refusing, -you will offend me." - -"Anything but that," I eagerly cried, as I took the money from that -blessed, charity-dispensing hand. - -And this was the last I saw of him for many years; and, when we again -met, the shadow of deeper sorrows was resting on my brow. - - * * * * * - -Several weeks had elapsed since Miss Jane's announcement that I was to -be sold, and I had heard no more of it. I dared not renew the subject to -her, no matter from what motive, for she would have construed it as -impudence. But my time was now passing in comparative pleasure, for Miss -Jane was wholly engrossed by fun, frolic, and dissipation. Her mornings -were spent in making or receiving fashionable calls, and her afternoons -were devoted to sleep, whilst the night-time was given up entirely to -theatres, parties, concerts, and such amusements. Consequently my -situation, as servant, became pretty much that of a sinecure. Oh, what -delightful hours I passed in Louise's room, reading! I devoured -everything in the shape of a book that fell into my hands. I began to -improve astonishingly in my studies. It seemed that knowledge came to me -by magic. I was surprised at the rapidity of my own advancement. In the -afternoons, Henry had a good deal of leisure, and he used to steal round -to Louise's room, and sit with us upon a little balcony that fronted it, -and looked out upon a beautiful view. There lay the placid Ohio, and -just beyond it ran the blessed Indiana shore! "Why was I not born on -that side of the river?" I used to say to Henry, as I pointed across the -water. "Or why," he would answer, as his dark eye grew intensely black, -"were our ancestors ever stolen from Africa?" - -"These are questions," said the more philosophical Louise, "that we must -not propose. They destroy the little happiness we already enjoy." - -"Yes, you can afford to talk thus, Louise, for you are free; but we, -poor slaves, know slavery from actual experience and endurance," said -Henry. - -"I have had my experience too," she answered, "and a dark one has it -been." - -The evening on which this conversation occurred, was unusually fair and -calm. I shall ever remember it. There we three sat, with mournful -memories working in our breasts; there each looking at the other, -murmuring secretly, "Mine is the heaviest trouble!" - -"Louise," I said, "tell us how you broke the chains of bondage." - -"I was," said she, after a moment's pause, "a slave to a family of -wealth, residing a few miles from New Orleans. I am, as you see, but -one-third African. My mother was a bright mulatto. My father a white -gentleman, the brother of my mistress. Louis De Calmo was his name. My -mother was a housemaid, and only fifteen years of age at my birth. She -was of a meek, quiet disposition, and bore with patience all her -mistress' reproaches and harshness; but, when alone with my father, she -urged him to buy me, and he promised her he would; still he put her off -from time to time. She often said to him that for herself she did not -care; but, for me, she was all anxiety. She could not bear the idea of -her child remaining in slavery. All her bright hopes for me were -suddenly brought to a close by my father's unexpected death. He was -killed by the explosion of a steamboat on the lower Mississippi, and his -horribly-mangled body brought home to be buried. My mother loved him; -and, in her grief for his death, she had a double cause for sorrow. By -it her child was debarred the privilege of freedom. I was but nine years -of age at the time, but I well remember her wild lamentation. Often she -would catch me to her heart, and cry out, 'if you could only die I -should be so happy;' but I did not. I lived on and grew rapidly. We had -a very kind overseer, and his son took a great fancy to me. He taught me -to read and write. I was remarkably quick. When I was but fifteen, I -recollect mistress fancied, from my likely appearance and my delicate, -gliding movements, that she would make a dining-room servant of me. I -was taken into the house, and thus deprived of the instructions which -the overseer's son had so faithfully rendered me. I have often read half -of the night. Now I approach a melancholy part of my story. Master -becoming embarrassed in his business, he must part with some of his -property. Of course the slaves went. My mother was numbered among the -lot. I longed and begged to be sold with her; but to this mistress would -not consent,--she considered me too valuable as a house-girl. Well, -mother and I parted. None can ever know my wretchedness, unless they -have suffered a similar grief, when I saw her borne weeping and -screaming away from me. I have never heard from her since. Where she -went or into whose hands she fell, I never knew. She was sold to the -highest bidder, under the auctioneer's hammer, in the New Orleans -market. I lived on as best I could, bearing an aching heart, whipped for -every little offence, serving, as a bond-woman, her who was, by nature -and blood, _my Aunt_. After a year or so I was sold to James Canfield, a -bachelor gentleman in New Orleans, and I lived with him, as a wife, for -a number of years. I had several beautiful children, though none lived -to be more than a few months old. At the death of this man I was set -free by his will, and three hundred dollars were bequeathed me by him. I -had saved a good deal of money during his life-time, and this, with his -legacy, made me independent. I remained in the South but a short time. -For two years after his death I sojourned in the North, sometimes hiring -myself out as chambermaid, and at others living quietly on my means; but -I must work. In activity I stifle memory, and for awhile am happy, or, -at least, tranquil." - -After this synopsis of her history, Louise was silent. She bent her -head upon her hand, and mused abstractedly. - -"I think, Henry, you are a slave," I said, as I turned my eye upon his -mournful face. - -"Yes, and to a hard master," was the quick reply; "but he has promised -me I shall buy myself. I am to pay him one thousand dollars, in -instalments of one hundred dollars each. Three of these instalments I -have already paid." - -"Does he receive any hire for your services at this hotel?" - -"Oh yes, the proprietor pays him one hundred and fifty dollars a year -for me." - -"How have you made the money?" - -"By working at night and on holidays, going on errands, and doing little -jobs for gentlemen boarding in the house. Sometimes I get little -donations from kind-hearted persons, Christmas gifts in money, &c. All -of it is saved." - -"You must work very hard." - -"Oh yes, it's very little sleep I ever get. How old would you think me?" - -"Thirty-five," I answered, as I looked at his furrowed face. - -"That is what almost every one says; yet I am only twenty-five. All -these wrinkles and hard spots are from work." - -"You ought to rest awhile," I ventured to suggest. - -"Oh, I'll wait until I am my own master; then I'll rest." - -"But you may die before that time comes." - -"So I may, so I may," he repeated despondingly. "All my family have died -early and from over-work. Sometimes I think freedom too great a blessing -for me ever to realize." - -He brushed a tear from his eye with the back of his hand. I looked at -him, so young and energetic, yet lonely. Noble and handsome was his -face, despite the lines of care and labor. What wonder that a soft -feeling took possession of my heart, particularly when I remembered how -he had gladdened my imprisonment with kind messages and the gift of -flowers. I did but follow an irrepressible and spontaneous impulse, when -I said with earnestness, - -"Do not work so hard, Henry." - -He looked me full in the face. Why did my eye droop beneath that warm, -inquiring gaze; and why did he ask so low, in a half whisper: - -"Should I die who will grieve for me?" - -And did not my uplifted glance tell him who would? We understood each -other. Our hearts had spoken, and what followed may easily be guessed. -Evening after evening we met upon that balcony to pledge our souls in -earnest vows. Henry's eye grew brighter; he worked the harder; but his -pile of money did not increase as it had done. Many a little present to -me, many a rare nosegay, that was purchased at a price he was not able -to afford, put off to a greater distance his day of freedom. Like a -green, luxuriant spot in the wide desert of a lonely life, seems to me -the memory of those hours. On Sunday evenings, when his labor was over, -which was generally about eight o'clock, we walked through the city, and -on moonlight nights we strayed upon the banks of the Ohio, and planned -for the future. - -Henry was to buy himself, then go North, and labor in some hotel, or at -whatever business he could make the most money; then he would return to -buy me. This was one of our plans; but as often as we talked, we made a -new one. - -"Oh, we shall be so happy, Ann," he would exclaim. - -Then I would repeat the often-asked question, "Where shall we live?" - -Sometimes we decided upon New York city; then a village in the State of -New York; but I think Henry's preference was a Canadian town. Idle -speculators that we were, we seldom adhered long to our preference for -any one spot! - -"At least, dear," he used to say, in his encouraging way, "we will hunt -a home; and, no matter where we find it, we can make it a happy one if -we are together." - -And to this my heart gave a warm echo. I was beginning to be happy; for -imagination painted joys in the future, and the present was not all -mournful, for Henry was with me! The same roof covered us. Twenty times -a-day I met him in the dining-room, hall, or in the lobby, and he was -always with me in the evening. - -Slaves as we were, I've often thought as we wandered beneath the golden -light of the stars, that, for the time being, we were as happy as -mortals could be. Young first-love knit the air in a charmed silver mist -around us; and, hand in hand, we trod the wave-washed shore, always with -our eyes turned toward the North, the bourne whither all our thoughts -inclined. - -"Does not the north star point us to our future home?" Henry frequently -asked. I love to recall this one sunny epoch in my life. For months, not -an unpleasant thing occurred. - -Immediately after my trial, Monkton left the city, and went, as I -understood, south. Miss Jane was busied with fashion and gayety. Mr. -Summerville was engaged at his business, and every one whom I saw was -kind to me. So I may record the fact that for a while I was happy! - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII. - -SOLD--LIFE AS A SLAVE--PEN--CHARLES' STORY--UNCLE PETER'S TROUBLE--A -STAR PEEPING FORTH FROM THE CLOUD. - - -Whilst the hours thus rosily slided away, and I dreamed amid the verdure -of existence, the syren charmed me wisely, indeed, with her beautiful -promises. Poor, simple-hearted, trusting slaves! We could not see upon -what a rocking bridge our feet were resting, how slippery and -unsubstantial was the flowery declivity whereon we stood. There we -reposed in the gentle light of a happy trance; we saw not the clouds, -dark and tempest-charged, that were rising rapidly to hide the stars -from our view. - -One Sunday afternoon, Henry having finished his work much earlier than -usual, and done some little act whereby the good will of his temporary -master (the keeper of the hotel) was propitiated, and Miss Jane and Mr. -Summerville having gone out, I willingly consented to his proposal to -take a walk. We accordingly wandered off to a beautiful wood, just -without the city limits, a very popular resort with the negroes and -poorer classes, though it was the only pretty green woodland near the -city. Yet, because the "common people and negroes" (a Kentucky phrase) -went there, it was voted vulgar, and avoided by the rich and refined. -One blessing was thus given to the poor! - -Henry and I sought a retired part of the grove, and, seating ourselves -on an old, moss-grown log, we talked with as much hope, and indulged in -as rosy dreams, as happier and lordlier lovers. For three bright hours -we remained idly rambling through the flower-realm of imagination; but, -as the long shadows began to fall among the leaves, we prepared to -return home. - -That night when I assisted Miss Jane in getting ready for bed, I -observed that she was unusually gloomy and petulant. I could do nothing -to please her; she boxed my ears repeatedly; stuck pins in me, called me -"detestable nigger," &c. Even the presence of Louise failed to restrain -her, and I knew that something awful had happened. - -For two or three days this cloud that hung about her deepened and -darkened, until she absolutely became unendurable. I often found her -eyes red and swollen, as though she had spent the entire night in -weeping. - -Mr. Summerville was gloomy and morose, never saying much, and always -speaking harshly to his wife. - -At length the explosion came. One morning he said to me, "gather up your -clothes, Ann, and come with me; I have sold you." - -Though I was stricken as by a thunderbolt, I dared not express my -surprise, or even ask who had bought me. All that I ventured to say was, - -"Master William, I have a trunk." - -"Well, shoulder it yourself. I'm not going to pay for having it taken." - -Though my heart was wrung I said nothing, and, lifting up my trunk, -beneath the weight of which I nearly sank, I followed Master William out -of the house. - -"Good-bye, Miss Jane," I said. - -"Good-bye, and be a good girl," she replied, kindly, and my heart almost -softened toward her; for in that moment I felt as if deserted by every -faculty. - -"Come on, Ann, come on," urged Master William; and I mechanically -obeyed. - -In the cross-hall I met Louise, who exclaimed, "Why, Ann, where are you -going?" - -"I don't know, Louise, I'm sold." - -"Sold! Who's bought you?" - -"I don't know--Master William didn't tell me." - -"Who's bought her, Mr. Summerville?" - -"The man to whom I sold her," he answered, with a laugh. - -"But who is he?" persisted Louise, without noticing the joke. - -"Well, Atkins, a negro-trader down here, on Second street." - -"Good gracious!" she cried out; then, turning to me, said, "does Henry -know it?" - -"I have not seen him." She darted off from us, and we walked on. I hoped -that she would not see Henry, for I could not bear to meet him. It would -dispossess me of the little forced composure that I had; but, alas! for -the fulfilment of my hopes! in the lower hall, with a countenance full -of terror, he stood. - -"What are you going to do with Ann, Mr. Summerville?" he inquired. - -"I have sold her to Atkins, and am now taking her to the pen." - -Alas! though his life, his blood, his soul cried out against it, he -dared not offer any objection or entreaty; but oh, that hopeless look of -brokenness of heart! I see it now, and "it comes over me like the raven -o'er the infected house." - -"I'll take your trunk round for you, Ann, to-night. It is too heavy for -you," and so saying, he kindly removed it from my shoulder. This little -act of kindness was the added drop to the already full glass, and my -heart overflowed. I wept heartily. His tender, "don't cry, Ann," only -made me weep the more; and when I looked up and saw his own eyes full of -tears, and his lip quivering with the unspoken pang, I felt (for the -slave at least) how wretched a possession is life! - -Master William cut short this parting interview, by saying, - -"Never mind that trunk, Henry, Ann can carry it very well." - -And, as I was about to re-shoulder it, Henry said, - -"No, Ann, you mustn't carry it. I'll do it for you to-night, when my -work is over. She is a woman, Mr. Summerville, and it's heavy for her; -but it will not be anything for me." - -"Well, if you have a mind to, you may do it; but I haven't any time to -parley now, come on." - -Henry pressed my hand affectionately, and I saw the tears roll in a -stream down his bronzed cheeks. I did not trust myself to speak; I -merely returned the pressure of his hand, and silently followed Master -William. - -Through the streets, up one and across another, we went, until suddenly -we stopped in front of a two-story brick house with an iron fence in -front. Covering a small portion of the front view of the main building, -an office had been erected, a plain, uncarpeted room, from the door of -which projected a sheet-iron sign, advertising to the passers-by, -"negroes bought and sold here." We walked into this room, and upon the -table found a small bell, which Mr. Summerville rang. In answer to this, -a neatly-dressed negro boy appeared. To Master William's interrogatory, -"Is Mr. Atkins in?" he answered, most obsequiously, that he was, and -instantly withdrew. In a few moments the door opened, and a heavy man -about five feet ten inches entered. He was of a most forbidding -appearance; a tan-colored complexion, with very black hair and whiskers, -and mean, watery, milky, diseased-looking eyes. He limped as he walked, -one leg being shorter than the other, and carried a huge stick to assist -his ambulations. - -"Good morning, Mr. Atkins." - -"Good morning, sir." - -"Here is the girl we were speaking of yesterday." - -"Well," replied the other, as he removed a lighted cigar from his mouth, -"she is likely enough. Take off yer bonnet, girl, let me look at yer -eyes. They are good; open your mouth--no decayed teeth--all sound; hold -up your 'coat, legs are good, some marks on 'em--now the back--pretty -much and badly scarred. Well, what's the damage?" - -"Seven hundred, cash down. You can recommend her as a first-rate house -and lady's maid." - -"What's your name, girl?" - -"Ann," I replied. - -"Ann, go within," he added, pointing to the door through which he had -entered. - -I turned to Mr. Summerville, saying, - -"Good-bye, Master William. I wish you well." - -"Good-bye, Ann," and he extended his hand to me; "I hope Mr. Atkins will -get you a good home." - -Dropping a courtesy and a tear, I passed through the door designated by -Mr. Atkins, and stood within the pen. Here I was met by the mulatto who -had answered the bell. - -"Has you bin bought, Miss?" - -"Yes, Mr. Atkins just bought me." - -"Why did your Masser sell you?" - -"I don't know." - -"Oh, that's what the most of 'em says. It 'pears so quare ter me for a -Masser to sell good sarvants; but I guess you'll soon git a home; fur -you is 'bout the likeliest yaller gal I ever seed. Now, thim rale black -'uns hardly ever goes off here. We has to send 'em down river, or let -'em go at a mighty low price." - -"How often do you have sales?" - -"Oh, we don't have 'em at all. That's we don't have public 'uns. We -sells 'em privately like; but we buys up more; and when we gits a large -number, we ships 'em down de river." - -Wishing to cut short his garrulity, I asked him to show me the room -where I was to stay. - -"In here, wid de rest of 'em," he said, as he opened the door of a large -shed-room, where I found some ten or twelve negroes, women and men, -ranged round on stools and chairs, all neatly dressed, some of them -looking very happy, others with down-cast, sorrow-stricken countenances. - -One bright, gold-colored man, with long, silky black hair, and raven -eyes, full of subdued power, stood leaning his elbow against the mantel. -His melancholy face and pensive attitude struck a responsive feeling, -and I turned with a sisterly sentiment toward him. - -I have always been of a taciturn disposition, shunning company; but this -man impressed me so favorably, he seemed the very counterpart of myself, -that I forgot my usual reserve, and, after a few moments' investigation -of my companions, the faces of most of whom were unpleasant to me, I -approached him and inquired-- - -"Have you been long here?" - -"Only a few days," he answered, as he lifted his mournful eyes towards -mine, and I could see from their misty light, that they were dimmed by -tears. - -"Are you sold?" I asked. - -"Oh yes," and he shuddered terribly. - -I did not venture to say more; but stood looking at him, when, suddenly -he turned to me, saying, - -"I know that you are sold." - -"Yes," I replied, with that strong sort of courage that characterized -me. - -"You take it calmly," he said; "have you no friends?" - -"You do not talk like one familiar with slavery, to speak of a slave's -having friends." - -"True, true; but I have--oh, God!--a wife and children, and from them I -was cruelly torn, and--and--and I saw my poor wife knocked flat upon the -floor, and because I had the manhood to say that it was wrong, they tied -me up and slashed me. All this is right, because my skin is darker than -theirs." - -What a fearful groan he gave, as he struck his breast violently. - -"The bitterness of all this I too have tasted, and my only wonder is, -that I can live on. My heart will not break." - -"Mine has long since broken; but this body will not die. My poor -children! I would that they were dead with their poor slave-mother." - -"Why did your master sell you?" - -"Because he wanted _to buy a piano for his daughter_," and his lip -curled. - -To gratify the taste of _his_ child, that white man had separated a -father from his children, had recklessly sundered the holiest ties, and -broken the most solemn and loving domestic attachments; and to such -heathenism the public gave its hearty approval, because his complexion -was a shade or so darker than Caucasians. Oh, Church of Christ! where is -thy warning voice? Is not this a matter, upon the injustice of which thy -great voice should pronounce a malison? - -"My name is Charles, what is yours?" - -"Ann." - -"Well, Ann," he resumed, "I like your face; you are the only one I've -seen in this pen that I was willing to talk with. You have just come. -Tell me why were you sold?" - -In a few concise words I told him my story. He seemed touched with -sympathy. - -"Poor girl!" he murmured, "like all the rest of our tribe, you have -tasted of trouble." - -I talked with him all the morning, and we both, I think, learned what a -relief it is to unclose the burdened heart to a congenial, listening -spirit. - -When we were summoned out to our dinner, I found a very bountiful and -pretty good meal served up. It is the policy of the trader to feed the -slaves well; for, as Mr. Atkins said, "the fat, oily, smooth, cheerful -ones, always sold the best;" and, as this business is purely a -speculation, they do everything, even humane things, for the furtherance -of their mercenary designs. I had not much appetite, neither had -Charles, as was remarked by some of the coarser and more abject of our -companions; and I was pained to observe their numerous significant winks -and blinks. One of them, the old gray mouse of the company, an ancient -"Uncle Ned," who had taken it pretty roughly all his days, and who being -of the lower order of Epicureans, was, perhaps, happier at the pen than -he had ever been. And this fellow, looking at me and Charley, said, - -"They's in lub;" ha! ha! ha! went round the circle. I noticed Charley's -brows knitting severely. I read his thoughts. I knew that he was -thinking of his poor wife and of his fatherless children, and inwardly -swearing unfaltering devotion to them. - -Persuasively I said to him, "Don't mind them. They are scarcely -accountable." - -"I know it, I know it," he bitterly replied, "but I little thought I -should ever come to this. Sold to a negro-trader, and locked up in a pen -with such a set! I've always had pride; tried to behave myself well, and -to make money for my master, and now to be sold to a trader, away from -my wife and children!" He shook his head and burst into tears. I felt -that I had no words to console him, and I ventured to offer none. - -I managed, by aid of conversation with Charley, to pass the day -tolerably. There may be those of my readers who will ask how this could -be. But let them remember that I had never been the pampered pet, the -child of indulgence; but that I was born to the ignominious heritage of -American slavery. My feelings had been daily, almost hourly, outraged. -This evil had not fallen on me as the _first_ misfortune, but as one of -a series of linked troubles "long drawn out." So I was comparatively -fitted for endurance, though by no means stoical; for a certain -constitutional softness of temperament rendered me always susceptible of -anguish to a very high degree. At length evening drew on--the beautiful -twilight that was written down so pleasantly in my memory; the time that -had always heralded my re-union with Henry. Now, instead of a sweet -starlight or moonlight stroll, I must betake myself to a narrow, -"cribbed, cabined, and confined" apartment, through which no truant ray -or beam could force an entrance! How my soul sickened over the -recollections of lovelier hours! Whilst I moodily sat in one corner of -the room, hugging to my soul the thought of him from whom I was now -forever parted, a sound broke on my ear, a sound--a music-sound, that -made my nerves thrill and my blood tingle; 'twas the sound of Henry's -voice. I heard him ask-- - -"Where is she? let me speak to her but a single word;" and how that -mellow voice trembled with the burden of painful emotion! Eagerly I -sprang forward; reserve and maidenly coyness all forgotten. My only wish -was to lay my weary head upon that brave, protecting breast--weep, ay, -and die there! "Oh, for a swift death," I frantically cried, as I felt -his arms about me, while my head was pillowed just above his warm and -loving heart. I felt its manly pulsations as with a soft lullaby they -seemed hushing me to the deep, eternal sleep, which I so ardently -craved! Better, a thousand times, for death to part us, than the white -man's cruelty! So we both thought. I read his secret wish in the -hopeless, vacant, but still so agonized look, that he bent upon me. For -one moment, the other slaves huddled together in blank amazement. This -was to them "a show," as "uncle Ned" subsequently styled it. - -"I've brought your trunk, Ann; Mr. Atkins ordered me to leave it -without; though you'll get it." - -"Thank you, Henry; it is of small account to me now: yet there are in it -some few of your gifts that I shall always value." - -"Oh, Ann, don't, pray don't talk so mournfully! Is there no hope? Can't -you be sold somewhere in the city? I have got about fifty dollars now in -money. I'd stop buying myself, and buy you; make my instalments in -fifties or hundreds, as I could raise it; but I spoke to a lawyer about -it, and he read the law to me, showing that I, as a slave, couldn't be -allowed to hold property; and there is no white man in whom I have -sufficient confidence, or who would be willing to accommodate me in this -way. Mine is a deplorable case; but I'm going to see what can be done. -I'll look about among the citizens, to see if some of them will not buy -you; for I cannot be separated from you. It will kill me; it will, it -will!" - -"Oh, don't, Henry, don't! for myself I can stand much; but when I think -of _you_." - -He caught me passionately to his breast; and, in that embrace, he seemed -to say, "_They shall not part us!_" - -He seated himself on a low stool beside me, with one of my hands clasped -in his, and thus, with his tender eyes bent upon me, such is the -illusion of love, I forgot the terror by which I was surrounded, and -yielded myself to a fascination as absorbing as that which encircled me -in the grove on that memorable Sunday evening. - -"Why, Henry, is this you?" and a strong hand was laid upon his -shoulder. Looking up, I beheld Charley. - -"And is this you, Charles Allen?" asked the other. - -"_Yes, this is me._ I dare say you scarcely expected to find me here, -where I never thought I should be." - -At this I was reminded of the significant ejaculation that Ophelia makes -in her madness, "Lord, we know what we are, but we know not what we may -be!" - -"I am sold, Henry," continued Charles, "sold away from my poor wife and -children;" his voice faltered and the big tears rolled down his cheeks. - -"I see from your manner toward Ann, that she is or was expected to be -your wife." - -"Yes, she was pledged to be." - -"_Yes, and is_," I added with fervor. At this, Henry only pressed my -hand tightly. - -"Yet," pursued Charles, "she is taken from you." - -"_She is_," was the brief and bitter reply. - -"Now, Henry Graham, are we men? and do we submit to these things?" - -"Alas!" and the words came through Henry's set teeth, "we are _not_ men; -we are only chattels, property, merchandise, _slaves_." - -"But is it right for us to be so? I feel the high and lordly instincts -of manhood within me. Must I conquer them? Must I stifle the eloquent -cry of Nature in my breast? Shall I see my wife and children left behind -to the mercy of a hard master, and willingly desert them simply because -another man says that, in exchange for this sacrifice of happiness and -hope, _his daughter_ shall play upon Chickering's finest piano?" - -Heavens! can I ever forget the princely air with which he uttered these -words! His swarthy cheek glowed with a beautiful crimson, and his rich -eye fairly blazed with the fire of a seven-times heated soul, whilst the -thin lip curled and the fine nostril dilated, and the whole form towered -supremely in the majesty of erect and perfect manhood! - -"Hush, Charley, hush," I urged, "this is no place for the expression of -such sentiments, just and noble as they may be." - -Again Henry pressed my hand. - -"It may be imprudent, Ann, but I am reckless now. They have done the -worst they can do. I defy the sharpest dagger-point. My breast is open -to a thousand spears. They can do no more. But how can you, Henry, thus -supinely sit by and see yourself robbed of your life's treasure? I -cannot understand it. Are you lacking in manliness, in courage? Are you -a coward, a _slave_ indeed?" - -"Do not listen to him; leave now, Henry, dear, dear Henry," I implored, -as I observed the singular expression of his face. "Go now, dearest, -without saying another word; for my sake go. You will not refuse me?" - -"No, I will not, dear Ann; but there is a fire raging in my veins." - -"Yes, and Charley is the incendiary. Go, I beg you." - -With a long, fond kiss, he left me, and it was well he did, for in a -moment more Mr. Atkins came to give the order for retiring. - -I found a very comfortable mattress and covering, on the floor of a -good, neatly-carpeted room, which was occupied by five other women. One -of them, a gay girl of about fifteen, a full-blooded African, made her -pallet close to mine. I had observed her during the day as a garrulous, -racketty sort of baggage, that seemed contented with her situation. She -was extremely neat in her dress; and her ebony skin had a rich, oily, -shiny look, resembling the perfect polish of Nebraska blacking on an -exquisite's boot. Partly from their own superiority, but chiefly from -contrast with her complexion, shone white as mountain snow, a regular -row of ivory teeth. Her large flabby ears were adorned by huge -wagon-wheel rings of pinch-beck, and a cumbersome strand of imitation -coral beads adorned her inky throat, whilst her dress was of the -gaudiest colors, plaided in large bars. Thus decked out, she made quite -a figure in the assemblage. - -"Is yer name Ann?" she unceremoniously asked. - -"Yes," was my laconic reply. - -"Mine is Lucy; but they calls me Luce fur short." - -No answer being made, she garrulously went on: - -"Was that yer husband what comed to see you this evenin'?" - -"No." - -"Your brother?" - -"No." - -"Your cousin?" - -"Neither." - -"Well, he's too young-lookin' fur yer father. Mought he be yer uncle?" - -"No." - -"Laws, then he mus' be yer sweetheart!" and she chuckled with mirth. - -I made no answer. - -"Why don't you talk, Ann?" - -"I don't feel like it." - -"You don't? well, that's quare." - -Still I made no comment. Nothing daunted, she went on: - -"Is yer gwine down the river with the next lot?" - -"I don't know;" but this time I accompanied my reply with a sigh. - -"What you grunt fur?" - -I could not, though so much distressed, resist a laugh at this singular -interrogatory. - -"Don't yer want to go South? I does. They say it's right nice down dar. -Plenty of oranges. When Masser fust sold me, I was mightily 'stressed; -den Missis, she told me dat dar was a sight of oranges down dar, and dat -we didn't work any on Sundays, and we was 'lowed to marry; so I got -mightily in de notion of gwine. You see Masser Jones never 'lowed his -black folks to marry. I wanted to marry four, five men, and he wouldn't -let me. Den we had to work all day Sundays; never had any time to make -anyting for ourselves; and I does love oranges! I never had more an' a -quarter of one in my life." - -Thus she wandered on until she fell off to sleep; but the leaden-winged -cherub visited me not that night. My eye-lids refused to close over the -parched and tear-stained orbs. I dully moved from side to side, changed -and altered my position fifty times, yet there was no repose for me. - - - "Not poppy nor mandragora - Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, - Could then medicine me to that sweet sleep - Which I owed yesterday." - - -I saw the dull gray streak of the morning beam, as coldly it played -through the gratings of my room. There, scattered in dismal confusion -over the floor, lay the poor human beings, for whose lives, health and -happiness, save as conducing to the pecuniary advantage of the -trafficker, no thought or care was taken. I rose hastily and adjusted my -dress, for I had not removed it during the night. The noise of my rising -aroused several of the others, and simultaneously they sprang to their -feet, apprehensive that they had slept past the prescribed hour for -rising. Finding that their alarm was groundless, and that they were by -the clock an hour too early, they grumbled a good deal at what they -thought my unnecessary awaking. I would have given much to win to my -heart the easy indifference as to fate, which many of them wore like a -loose glove; but there I was vulnerable at every pore, and wounded at -each. What a curse to a slave's life is a sensitive nature! - -That day closed as had the preceding, save that at evening Henry did not -come as before. I wandered out in the yard, which was surrounded by a -high brick-wall, covered at the top with sharp iron spikes, to prevent -the escape of slaves. Through this barricaded ground I was allowed to -take a little promenade. There was not a shrub or green blade of grass -to enliven me; but my eyes lingered not upon the earth. They were turned -up to the full moon, shining so round and goldenly from the purple -heaven, and, scattered sparsely through the fields of azure, were a few -stars, looking brighter and larger from their scarcity. - -"Will my death-hour ever come?" I asked myself despairingly. "Have I -not tasted of the worst of life? Is not the poisoned cup drained to its -last dregs?" - -I fancied that I heard a voice answer, as from the clouds, - -"No, there are a few bitterer drops that must yet be drunk. Press the -goblet still closer to your lips." - -I shuddered coldly as the last tones of the imagined voice died away -upon the soft night air. - -"Is that," I cried, "a prophet warning? Comes it to me now that I may -gird my soul for the approaching warfare? Let me, then, put on my helmet -and buckler, and, like a life-tired soldier, rush headlong into the -thickest of the fight, praying that the first bullet may prove a friend -and drink my blood!" - -Yet I shrank, like the weakest and most fearful of my race, when the -distant cotton-fields rose upon my mental view! There, beneath the heat -of a "hot and copper sky," I saw myself wearily tugging at my assigned -task; yet my fear was not for the physical trouble that awaited me. Had -Henry been going, "down the river" would have had no terror for me; but -I was to part from joy, from love, from life itself! Oh, why, why have -we--poor bondsmen and bondswomen--these fine and delicate sensibilities? -Why do we love? Why are we not all coarse and hard, mere human beasts of -burden, with no higher mental or moral conception, than obedience to the -will or caprice of our owners? - -Night closed over this second weary day. And thus passed on many days -and nights. I did some plain sewing by way of employment, and at the -command of a mulatto woman, who was the kept mistress of Atkins, and -therefore placed in authority over us. Many of the women were hired out -to residents of the city on trial, and if they were found to be -agreeable and good servants, perhaps they were purchased. Before sending -them out, Mr. Atkins always called them to him, and, shaking his cane -over their heads, said, - -"Now, you d----d hussy, or rascal (as they chanced to be male or female) -if you behave yourselves well, you'll find a good home; but you dare to -get sick or misbehave, and be sent back to me, and I'll thrash you in an -inch of your cursed life." - -With this demoniacal threat ringing in their ears, it is not likely that -the poor wretches started off with any intention of bad conduct. - -We constantly received accessions to our number, but never acquisitions, -for the poor, ill-fed, ill-kept wretches that came in there, "sold (as -Atkins said) for a mere song," were desolate and revolting to see. - -Charley found one or two old books, that he seemed to read and re-read; -indifferent novels, perhaps, that served, at least, to keep down the -ravening tortures of thought. I lent him my Testament, and he read a -great deal in it. He said that he had one, but had left it with his -wife. He was a member of the Methodist Church; had gone on Sunday -afternoons to a school that had been established for the benefit of -colored people, and thus, unknown to his master, had acquired the first -principles of a good education. He could read and write, and was in -possession of the rudiments of arithmetic. He told me that his wife had -not had the opportunities he had, and therefore she was more deficient, -but he added, "she had a great thirst for knowledge, such as I have -never seen excelled, and rarely equalled. I have known her, after the -close of her daily labors, devote the better portion of the night to -study. I gave her all the instruction I could, and she was beginning to -read with considerable accuracy; but all that is over, past and gone -now." And again he ground his teeth fiercely, and a wild, lurid light -gathered in his eye. - -This man almost made me oblivious of my own grief, in sympathy for his. -I did all I could by "moral suasion," as the politicians say, to soften -his resentment. I bade him turn his thoughts toward that religion which -he had espoused. - -"I have no religion for this," he would bitterly say. - -And in truth, I fear me much if the heroism of saints would hold out on -such occasions. There, fastened to that impassioned husband's heart, -playing with its dearest chords, was the fang-like hand of the white -man! Oh, slow tortures! in comparison to which that of Prometheus was -very pleasure. There is no Tartarus like that of wounded, agonized -domestic love! Far away from him, in a lonely cabin, he beheld his -stricken wife and all his "pretty chickens" pining and unprotected. - -Slowly, after a few days, he relapsed into that stony sort of despair -that denies itself the gratification of speech. The change was very -painfully visible to me, and I tried, by every artifice, to arouse him; -but I had no power to wake him. - - - "Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak, - Whispers the o'erfraught heart, and bids it break." - - -And soon learning this, I left him, a remorseless prey to that "rooted -sorrow" of the brain. - - * * * * * * * - -One day, as we all sat in the shed-room, engaged at our various -occupations, we were roused by a noise of violent weeping, and something -like a rude scuffle just without the door, when suddenly Atkins entered, -dragging after him, with his hand close about his throat, a poor negro -man, aged and worn, with a head white as cotton. - -"Oh, please, Masser, jist let me go back, an' tell de ole 'ooman -farewell, an' I won't ax for any more." - -"No, you old rascal, you wants to run away. If you say another word -about the old voman, I'll beat the life out of you." - -"Oh lor', oh lor', de poor ole 'ooman an' de boys; oh my ole heart will -bust!" and, sobbing like a child, the old man sank down upon the floor, -in the most abandoned grief. - -"Here, boys, some of you git the fiddle and play, an' I warrant that old -fool will be dancin' in a minnit," said Atkins in his unfeeling way. - -Of course this speech met with the most signal applause from "de boys" -addressed. - -I watched the expression of Charles' face. It was frightful. He sat in -one corner, as usual, with an open book in his hand. From it he raised -his eyes, and, whilst the scene between Atkins and the old negro was -going on, they flashed with an expression that I could not fathom. His -brows knit, and his lip curled, yet he spoke no word. - -When Atkins withdrew, the old man lay there, still weeping and sobbing -piteously. I went up to him, kindly saying, - -"What is the matter, old uncle?" - -The sound of a kind voice aroused him, and looking up through his -streaming tears, he said, - -"Oh, chile, I's got a poor ole 'ooman dat lives 'bout half mile in de -country. Masser fotch me in town to-day, an' say he was agwine to hire -me fur a few weeks. Wal, I beliebed him, bekase Masser has bin hard run -fur money, an' I was willin' to hope him 'long, so I consented to be -hired in town fur little while, and den go out an' see de ole 'ooman an' -de boys Saturday nights. Wal, de fust thing I knowed when I got to town -I was sold to a trader. Masser wouldn't tell me hisself; but, when I got -here, de gemman what I thought I was hired to, tole me dat Masser Atkins -had bought me; an' I wanted to go back an' ask Masser, but he laughed -an' say 'twant no use, Masser done gone out home. Oh, lor'! 'peared like -dere was nobody to trus' to den. I begged to go an' say good-bye; but -dey 'fused me dat, an' Masser Atkins 'gan to swear, an' he struck me -'cross de head. Oh, I didn't tink Masser wud do me so in my ole age!" - -I ask you, reader, if for a sorrow like this there was any word of -comfort? I thought not, and did not dare try to offer any. - -"Will scenes like these ever cease?" I fretfully asked, as I turned to -Charles. - -"Never!" was the bitter answer. - -This old man talked constantly of his little woolly-headed boys. When -telling of their sportive gambols, he would smile, even whilst the tears -were flowing down his cheeks. - -He often had a crowd of slaves around him listening to his talk of -"wife and children," but I seldom made one of the number, for it -saddened me too much. I knew that he was telling of joys that could -never come to him again. - -On one of these occasions, when uncle Peter, as he was called, was deep -in the merits of his conversation, I was sitting in the corner of the -room sewing, when Luce came running breathlessly up to me, with a bunch -of beautiful flowers in her hand. - -"Oh, Ann," she exclaimed, "dat likely-lookin' yallow man, dat cum to see -you, an' fotch yer trunk de fust night yer comed here, was passin' by, -an' I was stanin' at de gate; an' he axed me to han' dis to you." - -And she gave me the bouquet, which I took, breathing a thousand -blessings upon the head of my devoted Henry. - -I had often wondered why Louise had never been to see me. She knew very -well where I was, and access to me was easy. But I was not long kept in -suspense, for, on that very night she came, bringing with her a few -sweetmeats, which I distributed among those of my companions who felt -more inclined to eat them than I did. - -"I have wondered, Louise, why you did not come sooner." - -"Well, the fact is, Ann, I've been busy trying to find you a home. I -couldn't bear to come without bringing you good news. Henry and I have -worked hard. All of our leisure moments have been devoted to it. We have -scoured this city over, but with no success; and, hearing yesterday that -Mr. Atkins would start down the river to-morrow, with all of you, I -could defer coming no longer. Poor Henry is too much distressed to come! -He says he'll not sleep this night, but will ransack the city till he -finds somebody able and willing to rescue you." - -"How does he look?" I asked. - -"Six years older than when you saw him last. He takes this very hard; -has lost his appetite, and can't sleep at night." - -I said nothing; but my heart was full, full to overflowing. I longed to -be alone, to fall with my face on the earth and weep. The presence of -Louise restrained me, for I always shrank from exposing my feelings. - -"Are we going to-morrow?" I inquired. - -"Yes, Mr. Atkins told me so this evening. Did you not know of it?" - -"No, indeed; am I among the lot?" - -After a moment's hesitation she replied, - -"Yes, he told me that you were, and, on account of your beauty, he -expected you would bring a good price in the Southern market. Oh -heavens, Ann, this is too dreadful to repeat; yet you will have to know -of it." - -"Oh yes, yes;" and I could no longer restrain myself; I fell, weeping, -in her arms. - -She could not remain long with me, for Mr. Atkins closed up the -establishment at half-past nine. Bidding me an affectionate farewell, -and assuring me that she would, with Henry, do all that could be done -for my relief, she left me. - -A most wretched, phantom-peopled night was that! Ten thousand horrors -haunted me! Of course I slept none; but imagination seemed turned to a -fiend, and tortured me in divers ways. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV. - -SCENE IN THE PEN--STARTING "DOWN THE RIVER"--UNCLE PETER'S TRIAL--MY -RESCUE. - - -On the next day, after breakfast, Mr. Atkins came in, saying, - -"Well, niggers, git yourselves ready. You must all start down the river -to-day, at ten o'clock. A good boat is going out. Huddle up your clothes -as quick as possible--no fuss, now." - -When he left, there was lamentation among some; silent mourning with -others; joy for a few. - -Shall I ever forget the despairing look of Charley? How passionately he -compressed his lips! I went up to him, and, laying my hand on his arm, -said, - -"Let us be strong to meet the trouble that is sent us!" - -He looked at me, but made no reply. I thought there was the wildness of -insanity in his glance, and turned away. - -It was now eight o'clock, and I had not heard from Henry or Louise. -Alas! my heart misgave me. I had been buoyed up for some time by the -flatteries and delusions of Hope! but now I felt that I had nothing to -sustain me; the last plank had sunk! - -I did not pretend to "get myself ready," as Mr. Atkins had directed; the -fact is, I was ready. The few articles of wearing apparel that I called -mine were all in my trunk, with some little presents that Henry had made -me, such as a brooch, earrings, &c. These were safely locked, and the -key hung round my neck. But the others were busy "getting ready." I was -standing near the door, anxiously hoping to see either Henry or Louise, -when an old negro woman, thinly clad, without any bonnet on her head, -and with a basket in her hand, came up to me, saying, - -"Please mam, is my ole man in here? De massa out here say I may speak -'long wid him, and say farwell;" and she wiped her eyes with the corner -of an old torn check apron. - -I was much touched, and asked her the name of her old man. - -"Pete, mam." - -"Oh, yes, he is within," and I stepped aside to let her pass through the -door. - -She went hobbling along, making her passage through the crowd, and I -followed after. In a few moments Pete saw her. - -"Oh dear! oh dear!" he cried out, "Judy is come;" and running up to her, -he embraced her most affectionately. - -"Yes," she said, "I begged Masser to let me come and see you. It was -long time before he told me dat you was sole to a trader and gwine down -de ribber. Oh, Lord! it 'pears like I ken never git usin to it! Dars no -way for me ever to hear from you. You kan't write, neither ken I. Oh, -what shill we do?" - -"I doesn't know, Judy, we's in de hands ob de Lord. We mus' trus' to -Him. Maybe He'll save us. Keep on prayin', Judy." - -The old man's voice grew very feeble, as he asked, - -"An de chillen, de boys, how is dey?" - -"Oh, dey is well. Sammy wanted to come long 'wid me; but it was too fur -for him to walk. Joe gib me dis, and say, take it to daddy from me." - -She looked in her basket, and drew out a little painted cedar whistle. -The tears rolled down the old man's cheeks as he took it, and, looking -at it, he shook his head mournfully, - -"Poor boy, dis is what I give him fur a Christmas gift, an' he sot a -great store to it. Only played wid it of Sundays and holidays. No, take -it back to him, an' tell him to play wid it, and never forget his poor -ole daddy dat's sole 'way down de ribber!" - -Here he fairly broke down, and, bursting into tears, wept aloud. - -"Oh, God hab bin marciful to me in lettin' me see you, Judy, once agin! -an' I am an ongrateful sinner not to bar up better." - -Judy was weeping violently. - -"Oh, if dey would but buy me! I wants to go long wid you." - -"No, no, Judy, you must stay long wid de chillen, an' take kere ob 'em. -Besides, you is not strong enough to do de work dey would want you to -do. No, I had better go by myself," and he wiped his eyes with his old -coat sleeve. - -"I wish," he added, "dat I had some little present to send de boys," -and, fumbling away in his pocket, he at length drew out two shining -brass buttons that he had picked up in the yard. - -"Give dis to 'em; say it was all thar ole daddy had to send 'em; but, -maybe, some time I'll have some money; and if I meet any friends down de -ribber, I'll send it to 'em, and git a letter writ back to let you and -'em know whar I is sold." - -Judy opened her basket, and handed him a small bundle. - -"Here, Pete, is a couple of shirts and a par of trowsers I fetched you, -and here's a good par of woollen socks to keep you warm in de winter; -and dis is one of Masser's ole woollen undershirts dat Missis sent you. -You know how you allers suffers in cold wedder wid de rheumatiz." - -"Tell Missis thankee," and his voice was choking in his throat. - -There was many a tearful eye among the company, looking at this little -scene. But, suddenly it was broken up by the appearance of Mr. Atkins. - -"Well, ole woman," he began, addressing Uncle Pete's wife, "it is time -you was agoin'. You has staid long enough. Thar's no use in makin' a -fuss. Pete belongs to me, an' I am agoin' to sell him to the highest -bidder I can find down the river." - -"Oh, Masser, won't you please buy me?" asked Judy. - -"No, you old fool." - -"Oh, hush Judy, pray hush," put in Pete; "humor her a little Masser -Atkins, she will go in a minnit. Now do go, honey," he added, addressing -Judy, who stood a moment, irresolutely, regarding her old husband; then -screaming out, "Oh no, no, I can't leave you!" fell down at his feet -half insensible. - -"Oh, Lord Jesus, hab marcy!" groaned Pete, as he bent over his partner's -body. - -"Take her out, instantly," exclaimed Atkins, as one of the men dragged -the body out. - -"Please be kereful, don't hurt her," implored Pete. - -"Behave yourself, and don't go near her," said Atkins to him, "or I'll -have both you an' her flogged. I am not goin' to have these fusses in my -pen." - -All this time Charley's face was frightful. As Atkins passed along he -looked toward Charley, and I thought he quailed before him. That regal -face of the mulatto man was well calculated to awe such a sinister and -small soul as Atkins. - -"Yes, yes, Charles, that proud spirit of yourn will git pretty well -broken down in the cotton fields," he murmured, just loud enough to be -heard. Charles made no answer, though I observed that his cheek fairly -blazed. - - * * * * * * - -When we were all bonneted, trunks corded down, and bundles tied up, -waiting, in the shed-room, for the order to get in the omnibus, Uncle -Pete suddenly spied the basket which Judy, in her insensibility, had -left. Picking it up, I saw the tears glitter in his eyes when the two -bright buttons rolled out on the floor. - -"These puttys," he muttered to himself, "was fur de boys. Poor fellows! -Now dey won't have any keepsake from dar daddy; and den here's de little -cedar whistle; oh, I wish I could send it out to 'em." Looking round the -room he saw Kitty, the mulatto woman, of whom I have before spoken as -the mistress of Atkins. - -"Oh, please, Kitty, will you have dis basket, dis whistle, and dese -putty buttons, sent out to Mr. John Jones', to my ole 'ooman Judy?' - -"Yes," answered the woman, "I will." - -"Thankee mam, and you'll very much oblige me." - -"Come 'long with you all. The omnibus is ready," cried out Atkins, and -we all took up the line of march for the door, each pausing to say -good-bye to Kitty, and yet none caring much for her, as she had not been -agreeable to us. - -"Going down the river, really," I said to myself. - -"Wait a minnit," said Atkins, and calling to a sort of foreman, who did -his roughest work, he bade him handcuff us. - -How fiercely-proud looked the face of Charles, as they fastened the -manacles on his wrists. - -I made no complaint, nor offered resistance. My heart was maddened. I -almost blamed Louise, and chided Henry for not forcing my deliverance. I -could have broken the handcuffs, so strongly was I possessed by an -unnatural power. - -"Git in the 'bus," said the foreman, as he riveted on the last handcuff. - -Just as I had taken my seat in the omnibus, Henry came frantically -rushing up. The great beads of perspiration stood upon his brow; and his -thick, hard breathing, was frightful. Sinking down upon the ground, all -he could say was, - -"Ann! Ann!" - -I rose and stood erect in the omnibus, looking at him, but dared not -move one step toward him. - -"What is the matter with that nigger?" inquired Atkins, pointing toward -Henry. Then addressing the driver, he bade him drive down to the wharf. - -"Stop! stop!" exclaimed Henry; "in Heaven's name stop, Mr. Atkins, -here's a gentleman coming to buy Ann. Wait a moment." - -Just then a tall, grave-looking man, apparently past forty, walked up. - -"Who the d----l is that?" gruffly asked Mr. Atkins. - -"It is Mr. Moodwell," Henry replied. "He has come to buy Ann." - -"Who said that I wanted to sell her?" - -"You would let her go for a fair price, wouldn't you?" - -"No, but I would part with her for a first-rate one." - -Just then, as hope began to relume my soul, Mr. Moodwell approached -Atkins, saying, - -"I wish to buy a yellow girl of you." - -"Which one?" - -"A girl by the name of Ann. Where is she?" - -"Don't you know her by sight?" - -"Certainly not, for I have never seen her." - -"You don't want to buy without first seeing her?" - -"I take her upon strong recommendation." - -With a dogged, and I fancied disappointed air, Atkins bade me stand -forth. Right willingly I obeyed; and appearing before Mr. Moodwell, with -a smiling, hopeful face, I am not surprised that he was pleased with me, -and readily paid down the price of a thousand dollars that was demanded -by Atkins. When I saw the writings drawn up, and became aware that I had -passed out of the trader's possession, and could remain near Henry, I -lifted my eyes to Heaven, breathing out an ardent act of adoration and -gratitude. - -Quickly Henry stood beside me, and clasping my yielding hand within his -own, whispered, - -"You are safe, dear Ann." - -I had no words wherewith to express my thankfulness; but the happy tears -that glistened in my eyes, and the warm pressure of the hand that I -gave, assured him of the sincerity of my gratitude. - -My trunk was very soon taken down from the top of the omnibus and -shouldered by Henry. - -Looking up at my companions, I beheld the savagely-stern face of -Charles; and thinking of his troubles, I blamed myself for having given -up to selfish joy, when such agony was within my sight. I rushed up to -the side of the omnibus and extended my hand to him. - -"God has taken care of you," he said, with a groan, "but I am -forgotten!" - -"Don't despair of His mercy, Charley." More I could not say; for the -order was given them to start, and the heavy vehicle rolled away. - -As I turned toward Henry he remarked the shadow upon my brow, and -tenderly inquired the cause. - -"I am distressed for Charley." - -"Poor fellow! I would that I had the power to relieve him." - -"Come on, come on," said Mr. Moodwell, and we followed him to the G---- -House, where I found Louise, anxiously waiting for me. - -"You are safe, thank Heaven!" she exclaimed, and joyful tears were -rolling down her smooth cheeks. - -The reaction of feeling was too powerful for me, and my health sank -under it. I was very ill for several weeks, with fever. Louise and Henry -nursed me faithfully. Mr. Moodwell had purchased me for a maiden sister -of his, who was then travelling in the Southern States, and I was left -at the G---- House until I should get well, at which time, if she should -not have returned, I was to be hired out until she came. I recollect -well when I first opened my eyes, after an illness of weeks. I was lying -on a nice bed in Louise's room. As it was a cool evening in the early -October, there was a small comfort-diffusing fire burning in the grate; -and on a little stand, beside my bed, was a very pretty and fragrant -bouquet. Seated near me, with my hand in his, was the one being on earth -whom I best loved. He was singing in a low, musical tone, the touching -Ethiopian melody of "Old Folks at Home." Slowly my eyes opened upon the -pleasant scene! Looking into his deep, witching eyes, I murmured low, -whilst my hand returned the pressure of his, - -"Is it you, dear Henry?" - -"It is I, my love; I have just got through with my work, and I came to -see you. Finding you asleep, I sat down beside you to hum a favorite -air; but I fear, that instead of calming, I have broken your slumber, -sweet." - -"No, dearest, I am glad to be aroused. I feel so much better than I have -felt for weeks. My head is free from fever, and except for the absence -of strength, am as well as I ever was." - -"Oh, it makes me really happy to hear you say so. I have been so uneasy -about you. The doctor was afraid of congestion of the brain. You cannot -know how I suffered in mind about you; but now your flesh feels cool and -pleasant, and your strength will, I trust, soon return." - -Just then Louise entered, bearing a cup of tea and a nice brown slice of -toast, and a delicate piece of chicken, on a neat little salver. At -sight of this dainty repast, my long-forgotten appetite returned, with a -most healthful vigor. But my kind nurse, who was glad to find me so -well, determined to keep me so, and would not allow me a hearty -indulgence of appetite. - -In a few days I was able to sit up in an easy chair, and, at every -opportunity, Louise would amuse me with some piece of pleasant gossip, -in relation to the boarders, &c. And Henry, my good, kind, noble Henry, -spent all his spare change in buying oranges and pine-apples for me, and -in sending rare bouquets, luxuries in which I took especial delight. -Then, during the long, cheerful autumnal evenings, when a fire sparkled -in the grate, he would, after his work was done, bring his banjo and -play for me; whilst his rich, gushing voice warbled some old familiar -song. Its touching plaintiveness often brought the tears to my eyes. - -Thus passed a few weeks pleasantly enough for me; but like all the other -rose-winged hours, they soon had a close. - -My strength had been increasing rapidly, and Mr. Moodwell, the brother -and agent of my mistress, concluded that I was strong enough to be hired -out. Accordingly, he apprized me of his intention, saying, - -"Ann, sister Nancy has written me word to hire you out until spring, -when she will return and take you home. I have selected a place for you, -in the capacity of house-servant. You must behave yourself well." - -I assured him that I would do my best; then asked the name of the family -to whom I was hired. - -"To Josiah Smith, on Chestnut street, I have hired you. He has two -daughters and a young niece living with him, and wishes you to wait on -them." - -After apprizing Henry and Louise of my new home, _pro tem._, I -requested the former to bring my trunk out that night, which he readily -promised. Bidding them a kind and cheerful adieu, I followed Mr. -Moodwell out to Chestnut street. - -This is one of the most retired and beautiful streets in the city of -L----, and Mr. Josiah Smith's residence the very handsomest among a -number of exceedingly elegant mansions. - -Opening a bronze gate, we passed up a broad tesselated stone walk that -led to the house, which was built of pure white stone, and three stories -in height, with an observatory on the top, and the front ornamented with -a richly-wrought iron verandah. Reposing in front upon the sward, were -two couchant tigers of dark gray stone. - -Passing through the verandah, we stopped at the mahogany door until Mr. -Moodwell pulled the silver bell-knob, which was speedily answered by a -neatly-dressed man-servant, who bade Mr. Moodwell walk in the parlor, -and requested me to wait without the door until he could find leisure to -attend to me. - -I obeyed this direction, and amused myself examining what remained of a -very handsome flower-garden, until he returned, when conducting me -around, by a private entrance, he ushered me into the kitchen. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV. - -THE NEW HOME--A PLEASANT FAMILY GROUP--QUIET LOVE-MEETINGS. - - -I became domesticated very soon in Mr. Josiah Smith's family. I learned -what my work was, and did it very faithfully, and I believe to their -satisfaction. - -The family proper consisted of Mr. Smith, his wife, two daughters, and a -niece. Mr. Smith was a merchant, of considerable wealth and social -influence, and the young ladies were belles par-excellence. Mrs. Smith -was the domestic of the concern, who carried on the establishment, a -little, busy, fussy sort of woman, that went sailing it round the house -with a huge bunch of keys dangling at her side, an incessant scold, with -a voice sharp and clear like a steamboat bell; a managing, thrifty sort -of person, a perfect terror to negroes; up of a morning betimes, and in -the kitchen, fussing with the cook about breakfast. - -I had very little to do with Mrs. Letitia. My business was almost -exclusively with the young ladies. I cleaned and arranged their rooms, -set the parlors right, swept and dusted them, and then attended to the -dining-room. This part of my work threw me under Mrs. Letitia's dynasty; -but as I generally did my task well, she had not much objection to make, -though her natural fault-finding disposition sharpened her optics a good -deal, and she generally discovered something about which to complain. - -Miss Adele Smith was the elder of the two daughters, a tall, pale girl, -with dark hair, carefully banded over a smooth, polished brow, large -black eyes and a pleasing manner. - -The second, Miss Nellie, was a round, plump girl of blonde complexion, -fair hair and light eyes, with a rich peach-flush on her cheek, and a -round, luscious, cherry-red mouth, that was always curling and -curvetting with smiles. - -The cousin, Lulu Carey, was a real romantic character, with a light, -fragile form, milk-white skin, the faintest touch of carmine playing -over the cheek, mellow gray eyes, earnest and loving, and a profusion of -chestnut-brown hair fell in the richest ringlets to her waist. Her -features and caste of face were perfect. She was habited in close -mourning, for her mother had been dead but one year, and the -half-perceptible shadow of grief that hung over her face, form and -manner, rendered her glorious beauty even more attractive. - -It was a real pleasure to me to serve these young ladies, for though -they were the élite, the cream of the aristocracy, they were without -those offensive "airs" that render the fashionable society of the West -so reprehensible. Though their parlors were filled every evening with -the gayest company, and they were kept up late, they always came to -their rooms with pleasant smiles and gracious words, and often chided me -for remaining out of bed. - -"Don't wait for us, Ann," they would say. "It isn't right to keep you -from your rest on our account." - -I slept on a pallet in their chamber, and took great delight in -remaining up until they came, and then assisted them in disrobing. - -It was the first time I had ever known white ladies (and young) to be -amiable, and seemingly philanthropic, and of course a very powerful -interest was excited for them. They had been educated in Boston, and had -imbibed some of the liberal and generous principles that are, I think, -indigenous to high Northern latitudes. Indeed, I believe Miss Lulu -strongly inclined toward their social and reformatory doctrines, though -she did not dare give them any very open expression, for Mr. and Mrs. -Josiah Smith were strong pro-slavery, conservative people, and would not -have countenanced any dissent from their opinions. - -Mrs. Smith used to say, "Niggers ought to be exterminated." - -And Miss Lulu, in her quiet way, would reply, - -"Yes, as slaves they should be exterminated." - -And then how pretty and naïvely she arched her pencilled brows. This was -always understood by the sisters, who must have shared her liberal -views. - -Mr. Smith was so much absorbed in mercantile matters, that he seldom -came home, except at meals or late at night, when the household was -wrapped in sleep; and, even on Sundays, when all the world took rest, he -was locked up in his counting-room. This seemed singular to me, for a -man of Mr. Smith's reputed and apparent wealth might have found time, at -least on Sunday, for quiet. - -The young ladies were very prompt and regular in their attendance at -church, but I used often to hear Miss Lulu exclaim, after returning, - -"Why don't they give us something new? These old rags of theology weary, -not to say annoy me. If Christianity is marching so rapidly on, why have -we still, rising up in our very midst, institutions the vilest and most -revolting! Why are we cursed with slavery? Why have we houses of -prostitution, where beauty is sold for a price? Why have we pest and -alms-houses? Who is the poor man's friend? Who is there with enough of -Christ's spirit to speak kindly to the Magdalene, and bid her 'go and -sin no more'? Alas, for Christianity to-day!" - -"But we must accept life as it is, and patiently wait the coming of the -millennium, when things will be as they ought," was Miss Adele's reply. - -"Oh, now coz, don't you and sis go to speculating upon life's troubles, -but come and tell me what I shall wear to the party to-morrow night," -broke from the gay lips of the lively Nellie. - -In this strain I've many times heard them talk, but it always wound up -with a smile at the suggestion of the volatile Miss Nellie. - -When I had been there but two days, I began to suspect Mrs. Smith's -disposition, for she several times declared her opinion that niggers had -no business with company, and that her's shouldn't have any. This was a -damper to my hopes, for my chief motive for wishing to be sold in L---- -was the pleasure I expected to derive from Henry's society. Every night, -as early as eight, the servants were ordered to their respective -quarters, and, as I slept in the house, a stolen interview with him -would have been impossible, as Mrs. Smith was too alert for me to make -an unobserved exit. On the second evening of my sojourn there, Henry -called to see me about half-past seven o'clock; and, just as I was -beginning to yield myself up to pleasure, Mrs. Smith came to the -kitchen, and, seeing him there, asked, - -"Whose negro is this?" - -"Henry Graham is my name, Missis," was the reply. - -"Well, what business have you here?" - -Henry was embarrassed; he hung his head, and, after a moment, faltered -out, - -"I came to see Ann, Missis." - -"Where do you belong?" - -"I belong to Mr. Graham, but am hired to the G---- House." - -"Well, then, go right there; and, if ever I catch you in my kitchen -again, I'll send your master word, and have you well flogged. I don't -allow negro men to come to see my servants. I want them to have no false -notions put into their heads. A nigger has no business visiting; let him -stay at home and do his master's work. I shouldn't be surprised if I -missed something out of the kitchen, and if I do, I shall know that you -stole it, and you shall be whipped for it; so shall Ann, for daring to -bring strange niggers into my kitchen. Now, clear yourself, man." - -With an humbled, mortified air, Henry took his leave. A thousand -scorpions were writhing in my breast. That he, my love, so honest, -noble, honorable, and gentlemanly in all his feelings, should be so -accused almost drove me to madness. I could not bear to have his pride -so bowed and his dearly-cherished principles outraged. From that day I -entertained no kind feeling for Mrs. Smith. - -On another occasion, a Saturday afternoon, when Louise came to sit a few -moments with me, she heard of it, and, rushing down stairs, ordered her -to leave on the instant, adding that her great abomination was free -niggers, and she wouldn't have them lurking round her kitchen, -corrupting her servants, and, perhaps, purloining everything within -their reach. - -Louise was naturally of a quick and passionate disposition; and, to be -thus wantonly and harshly treated, was more than she could bear. So she -furiously broke forth, and such a scene as occurred between them was -disgraceful to humanity! Miss Adele hearing the noise instantly came -out, and in a positive tone ordered Louise to leave; which order was -obeyed. After hearing from her mother a correct statement of the case, -Miss Adele burst into tears and went to her room. I afterward heard her -kindly remonstrating with her mother upon the injustice of such a course -of conduct toward her servants. But Mrs. Smith was confirmed in her -notions. They had been instilled into her early in life; had grown with -her growth and strengthened with her years. So it was not possible for -her young and philanthropic daughter to remove them. Once, when Miss -Adele was quite sick, and after I had been nursing her indefatigably for -some time, she said to me, - -"Ann, you have told me the story of your love. I have been thinking of -Henry, and pitying his condition, and trying to devise some way for you -to see him." - -"Thank you, Miss Adele, you are very kind." - -"The plan I have resolved upon is this: I will pretend to send you out -of evenings on errands for me; you can have an understanding with Henry, -and meet at some certain point; then take a walk or go to a friend's; -but always be careful to get home before ten o'clock." - -This was kindness indeed, and I felt the grateful tears gathering in my -eyes! I could not speak, but knelt down beside the bed, and reverently -kissed the hem of her robe. Goodness such as hers, charity and love to -all, elicited almost my very worship! - -I remember the first evening that I carried this scheme into effect. She -was sitting in a large arm-chair, carefully wrapped up in the folds of -an elegant velvet _robe-de-chambre_. Her mother, sister, and cousin were -beside her, all engaged in a cheerful conversation, when she called me -to her, and pretended to give me some errand to attend to out in the -city, telling me _pointedly_ that it would require my attention until -near ten o'clock. How like a lovely earth-angel appeared she then! - -I had previously apprized Henry of the arrangement, and named a point of -meeting. Upon reaching it, I found him already waiting for me. We took a -long stroll through the lamp-lit streets, talking of the blessed hopes -that struggled in our bosoms; of the faint divinings of the future; told -over the story of past sufferings, and renewed olden vows of devotion. - -He, with the most lover-like fondness, had brought me some little gift; -for this I kindly reproved him, saying that all his money should be -appropriated to himself, that, by observing a rigid economy, we but -hastened on the glorious day of release from bondage. Before ten I was -at home, and waiting beside Miss Adele. How kindly she asked me if I had -enjoyed myself; and with what pride I told her of the joy that her -kindness had afforded me! Surely the sweet smile that played so -luminously over her fair face was a reflex of the peace that irradiated -her soul! How beautifully she illustrated, in her single life, the holy -ministrations of true womanhood! Did she not, with kind words and -generous acts, "strive to bind up the bruised, broken heart." At the -very mention of her name, aye, at the thought of her even, I never fail -to invoke a blessing upon her life! - -Thus, for weeks and months, through her ingenuity, I saw Henry and -Louise frequently. Otherwise, how dull and dreary would have seemed to -me that long, cold winter, with its heaped snow-banks, its dull, gray -sky, its faint, chill sun, and leafless trees; but the sunbeam of her -kindness made the season bright, warm and grateful! - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI. - -THE NEW ASSOCIATES--DEPRAVED VIEWS--ELSY'S MISTAKE--DEPARTURE OF THE -YOUNG LADIES--LONELINESS. - - -In Mr. Smith's family of servants was Emily, the cook, a sagacious -woman, but totally without education, knowledge, or the peculiar -ambition that leads to its acquisition. She was a bold, raw, unthinking -spirit; and, from the fact that she had been kept closely confined to -the house, never allowed any social pleasure, she resolved to be -revenged, and unfortunately in her desire for "spite" (as she termed -it), had sacrificed her character, and was the mother of two children, -with unacknowledged fathers. Possessed of a violent temper, she would, -at periods, rave like a mad-woman; and only the severest lashing could -bring her into subjection. She was my particular terror. Her two -children, half-bloods, were little, sick, weasly things that excited the -compassion of all beholders, and though two years of age (twins), were, -from some physical derangement, unable to walk. - -There was also a man servant, Duke, who attended to odd ends of -housework, and served in the capacity of decorated carriage-driver, and -a girl, Elsy, a raw, green, country concern, good-natured and foolish, -with a face as black as tar. They had hired her from a man in the -country, and she being quite delighted with town and the off-cast finery -of the ladies, was as happy as _she_ could be--yet the mistakes she -constantly made were truly amusing. She had formed quite an attachment -for Duke, which he did not in the slightest degree return; yet, with -none of the bashfulness of her sex, she confessed to the feeling, and -declared that "Duke was very mean not to love her a little." This never -failed to excite the derision of the more sprightly Emily. - -"Well, you is a fool," she would exclaim, with an odd shake of the head. - -"I loves him, and don't kere who knows it." - -"Does he love you?" asked Emily. - -"_Well_, he doesn't." - -"_Then I'd hate him_," replied Emily, as, with a great force, she -brought her rolling-pin down on the table. - -"No, I wouldn't," answered the loving Elsy. - -"You ain't worth shucks." - -"Wish I was worth Duke." - -"Hush, fool." - -"You needn't git mad, kase I don't think as you does." - -"I is mad bekase you is a fool." - -"Who made me one?" - -"You was born it, I guess." - -"Then I aren't to blame fur it. Them that made me is." - -Conversations like this were of frequent occurrence, and once, when I -ventured to ask Elsy if she wouldn't like to learn to read, she laughed -heartily, saying: - -"Does you think I wants to run off?" - -"Certainly not." - -"Den why did you ax me if I wanted to larn to read?" - -"So you might have a higher source of enjoyment than you now have." - -"Oh, yes, so as to try to git my freedom! You is jist a spy fur de white -folks, and wants to know if I'll run away. Go off, now, and mind yer own -business, kase I has hearn my ole Masser, in de country, say dat -whenever niggers 'gan to read books dey was ob no 'count, and allers had -freedom in dar heads." - -Finding her thus obstinate, I gave up all attempts to persuade her, and -left her to that mental obscuration in which I found her. Emily -sometimes threatened to apply herself, with vigor, to the gaining of -knowledge, and thus defeat and "spite" her owners; but knowledge so -obtained, I think, would be of little avail, for, like religion, it -must be sought after from higher motives--sought for itself _only_. - -I could find but little companionship with those around me, and lived -more totally within myself than I had ever done. Many times have I gone -to my room, and in silence wept over the isolation in which my days were -spent; but three nights out of the seven were marked with white stones, -for on these I held blissful re-unions with Henry. Our appointed spot -for meeting was near an old pump, painted green, which was known as the -"green pump," a very favorite one, as the water, pure limestone, was -supposed to be better, cooler, and stronger than that of others. Much -has been written, by our popular authors, on the virtues and legends of -old town pumps, but, to me, this one had a beauty, a charm, a glory -which no other inanimate object in wide creation possessed! And of a -moonlight night, when I descried, at a distance, its friendly handle, -outstretched like an arm of welcome, I have rushed up and grasped it -with a right hearty good feeling! Long time afterwards, when it had -ceased to be a love-beacon to me, I never passed it without taking a -drink from its old, rusty ladle, and the water, like the friendly -draught contained in the magic cup of eastern story, transported me over -the waste of time to poetry and love! Even here I pause to wipe away the -fond, sad tears, which the recollection of that old "green pump" calls -up to my mind, and I should love to go back and stand beside it, and -drink, aye deeply, of its fresh, cool water! There are now many stately -mansions in that growing city, that sits like a fairy queen upon the -shore of the charmed Ohio; but away from all its lofty structures and -edifices of wealth, away from her public haunts, her galleries and -halls, would I turn, to pay homage to the old "green pump"! - -Some quiet evenings, too, had I in Louise's room, listening to Henry -sing, while he played upon his banjo. His voice was fine, full, and -round, and rang out with the clearness of a bell. Though possessed of -but slight cultivation, I considered it the finest one I ever heard. - -But again my pleasures were brought to a speedy close. As the winter -began to grow more cold, and the city more dull, the young ladies began -to talk of a jaunt to New Orleans. Their first determination was to -carry me with them; but, after calculating the "cost," they concluded it -was better to go without a servant, and render all necessary toilette -services to each other. They had no false pride--thanks to their -Northern education for that! - -Before their departure they gave quite a large dinner-party, served up -in the most fantastic manner, consisting of six different courses. I -officiated as waiter, assisted by Duke. Owing to the scarcity of -servants in the family, Elsy was forced to attend the door, and render -what assistance she could at the table. - -Whilst they were engaged on the fourth course, a violent ring was heard -at the door-bell, which Elsy was bound to obey. - -In a few moments she returned, saying to one of the guests: - -"Miss Allfield, a lady wishes to speak with you." - -"_With me?_" interrogated the lady. - -"Yes, marm." - -"Who can she be?" said Miss Allfield, in surprise. - -"Bid the lady be seated in the parlor, and say that Miss Allfield is at -dinner," replied Mrs. Smith. - -"If the company will excuse me, I will attend to this unusual visitor," -said Miss Allfield, as she rose to leave. - -"_It is a colored lady_, and she is waitin' fur you at the door," put in -Elsy. - -The blank amazement that sat upon the face of each guest, may be better -imagined than described! Some of them were ready to go into convulsions -of laughter. A moment of dead silence reigned around, when Miss Nellie -set the example of a hearty laugh, in which all joined, except Mr. and -Mrs. Smith, whose faces were black as a tempest-cloud. - -But there stood the offending Elsy, all unconscious of her guilt. When -she first came to town, she had been in the habit of announcing company -to the ladies as "a man wants to see you," or "a woman is in the -parlor," and had, every time, been severely reprimanded, and told that -she should say "a lady or gentleman is in the parlor." And the poor, -green creature, in her great regard for "ears polite," did not know how -to make the distinction between the races; but most certainly was she -taught it by the severe whipping that was administered to her afterwards -by Mr. Smith. No intercession or entreaty from the ladies could be of -any avail. Upon Elsy's bare back must the atonement be made! After this -public whipping, she was held somewhat in disgrace by the other -servants. Duke gave her a very decided cut, and Emily, who had never -liked her, was now lavish in her abuse and ill-treatment. She even -struck the poor, offenceless creature many blows; and from this there -was no redemption, for she was in sad disrepute with Mr. and Mrs. Smith; -and, after the young ladies' departure, she had no friend at all, for I -was too powerless to be of use to her. - - * * * * * * * - -The remainder of the winter was dull indeed. My interviews with Henry -had been discontinued; and I never saw Louise. I had no time for -reading. It was work, work, delve and drudge until my health sank under -it. Mrs. Smith never allowed us any time on Sundays, and the idea of a -negro's going to church was outrageous. - -"No," she replied, when I asked permission to attend church, "stay at -home and do your work. What business have negroes going to church? They -don't understand anything about the sermon." - -Very true, I thought, for the most of them; but who is to blame for -their ignorance? If opportunities for improvement are not allowed them, -assuredly they should not suffer for it. - -How dead and lifeless lay upon my spirit that dull, cold winter! The -snow-storm was without; and ice was within. Constant fault-finding and -ten thousand different forms of domestic persecution well-nigh crushed -the life out of me. Then there was not one break of beauty in my -over-cast sky! No faint or struggling ray of light to illume the -ice-bound circle that surrounded me! - -But the return of spring began to inspire me with hope; for then I -expected the arrival of my unknown mistress. Henry and Louise both knew -her, and they represented her as possessed of very amiable and -philanthropic views. How eagerly I watched for the coming of the May -blossoms, for then she, too, would come, and I be released from torture! -How dull and drear seemed the howling month of March, and even the -fitful, changeful April. Alternate smiles and tears were wearying to me, -and sure I am, no school-girl elected queen of the virgin month, ever -welcomed its advent with such delight as I! - -With its first day came the young ladies. Right glad was I to see them. -They returned blooming and bright as flowers, with the same gentle -manners and kindly dispositions that they had carried away. - -Miss Nellie had many funny anecdotes to tell of what she had seen and -heard; really it was delightful to hear her talk in that mirth-provoking -manner! In her accounts of Southern dandyisms and fopperies, she drew -forth her father's freest applause. - -"Why, Nellie, you ought to write a book, you would beat Dickens," he -used to say; but her more sober sister and cousin never failed to -reprove her, though gently, for her raillery. - -"Well, Elsy," she cried, when she met that little-respected personage, -"Have any more 'colored ladies' called during our absence?" This was -done in a kind, jocular way; but the poor negro felt it keenly, and held -her head down in mortification. - - * * * * * * * - -At length the second week of the month of May arrived, and with it came -my new mistress! A messenger, no less a person than Henry, was -despatched for me. The time for which I was hired at Mr. Smith's having -expired two weeks previously, I hastily got myself ready, and Henry once -again shouldered my trunk. - -With a feeling of delight, I said farewell to Mrs. Smith and the -servants; but when I bade the young ladies good-bye, I own to the -weakness of shedding tears! I tried to impress upon Miss Adele's mind -the sentiment of love that I cherished for her, and I had the -satisfaction of knowing that she was not too proud to feel an interest -in me. - -All the way to the G---- House, Henry was trying to cheer me up, and -embolden me for the interview with Miss Nancy. I had been looking -anxiously for the time of her arrival, and now I shrank from it. It was -well for my presence of mind that Miss Jane and her husband had returned -to their homestead, for I do not think that I could have breathed freely -in the same house with them, even though their control over me had -ceased. - -Arriving at the G---- House, I had not the courage to venture instantly -into Miss Nancy's presence; but sought refuge, for a few moments, in -Louise's apartment, where she gave me a very _cordial_ reception, and a -delightful beverage compounded of blackberries. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII. - -THE NEW MISTRESS--HER KINDNESS OF DISPOSITION--A PRETTY HOME--AND -LOVE-INTERVIEWS IN THE SUMMER DAYS. - - -At last I contrived to "screw my courage to the sticking-place," and go -to Miss Nancy's room. - -I paused at the closed door before knocking for admission. When I did -knock, I heard a not unpleasant voice say-- - -"Come in." - -The tone of that voice re-inspired me, and I boldly entered. - -There, resting upon the bed, was one of the sweetest and most benign -faces that I ever beheld. Age had touched it but to beautify. Serene and -clear, from underneath the broad cap frill shone her mild gray eyes. The -wide brow was calm and white as an ivory tablet, and the lip, like a -faded rose-leaf, hinted the bright hue which it had worn in health. The -cheek, like the lip, was blanched by the hand of disease. "Ah," she -said, as with a slight cough she elevated herself upon the pillow, "it -is you, Ann. You are a little tardy. I have been looking for you for the -last half-hour." - -"I have been in the house some time, Miss Nancy, but had not the courage -to venture into your presence; and yet I have been watching for your -arrival with the greatest anxiety." - -"You must not be afraid of me, child, I am but a sorry invalid, who -will, I fear, often weary and overtax your patience; but you must bear -with me; and, if you are faithful, I will reward you for it. Henry has -told me that you are pretty well educated, and have a pleasant voice for -reading. This delights me much; for your principal occupation will be to -read to me." - -Certainly this pleased me greatly, for I saw at once that I was removed -from the stultifying influences which had so long been exercised over my -mind. Now I should find literary food to supply my craving. My eyes -fairly sparkled, as I answered, - -"This is what I have long desired, Miss Nancy; and you have assigned to -me the position I most covet." - -"I am glad I have pleased you, child. It is my pleasure to gratify -others. Our lives are short, at best, and he or she only lives _truly_ -who does the most good." - -This was a style and manner of talk that charmed me. Beautiful example -and type of womankind! I felt like doing reverence to her. - -She reached her thin hand out to help herself to a glass of water, that -stood on a stand near by. I sprang forward to relieve her. - -"Ah, thank you," she said, in a most bland tone; "I am very weak; the -slightest movement convinces me of the failure of my strength." - -I begged that she would not exert herself, but always call on me for -everything that she needed. - -"I came here to serve you, and I assure you, my dear Miss Nancy, I shall -be most happy in doing it. Mine will, I believe, truly be a 'labor of -love.'" - -Another sweet smile, with the gilded light of a sunbeam, broke over her -calm, sweet face! Bless her! she and all of her class should be held as -"blessed among women;" for do they not walk with meek and reverent -footsteps in the path of her, the great model and prototype of all the -sex? - - * * * * * * * - -When I had been with her but a few days, she informed me that, as soon -as her health permitted, she intended being removed to her house on -Walnut street. I was not particularly anxious for this; for my sojourn -at the G---- House was perfectly delightful. My frequent intercourse -with Henry and Louise, was a source of intense pleasure to me. I was -allowed to pass the evenings with them. Truly were those hours dear and -bright. Henry played upon his banjo, and sang to us the most -enrapturing songs, airs and glees; and Louise generally supplied us with -cakes and lemonade! How exquisite was my happiness, as there we sat upon -the little balcony gazing at the Indiana shore, and talking of the time -when Henry and I should be free. - -"How much remains to be paid to your master, Henry," asked Louise. - -"I have paid all but three hundred and fifty; one hundred of which I -already have; so, in point of fact, I lack only two hundred and fifty," -said Henry. - -"I am very anxious to leave here this fall. I wish to go to Montreal. -Now, if you could make your arrangements to go on with me, I should be -glad. I shall require the services and attentions of a man; and, if you -have not realized the money by that time, I think I can lend it to you," -returned Louise. - -A bright light shone in Henry's eye, as he returned his thanks; but -quickly the coming shadow banished that radiance of joy. - -"But think of her," he said tenderly, laying his hand on my shoulder; -"what can she do without us, or what should I be without her?" - -"Oh, think not of me, dearest, I have a good home, and am well cared -for. Go, and as soon as you can, make the money, and come back for me." - -"Live years away from you? Oh, no, no!" and he wound his arm around my -waist, and, most naturally, my head rested upon his shoulder. Loud and -heavy was his breathing, and I knew that a fierce struggle was raging in -his breast. - -"I will never leave her, Louise," he at length replied. "That tyrant, -the law, may part us; but, my free will and act--_never_." - -"Ah, well," added she, as she looked upon us, "you will think better of -this after you give it a little reflection. This is only love's -delusion;" and, in her own quiet, sensible way, she turned the stream of -conversation into another channel. - -I think now, with pleasure, of the lovely scenes I enjoyed on those -evenings, with the fire-flies playing in the air; and many times have I -thought how beautifully and truly they typify the illusive glancings of -hope darting here and there with their fire-lit wings; eluding our -grasp, and sparkling e'en as they flit. - - * * * * * * * - -A few weeks after my installation in the new office, my mistress, whose -health had been improving under my nursing, began to get ready to move -to her sweet little cottage residence on Walnut street. I was not -anxious for the change, notwithstanding it gave me many local -advantages; for I should be removed from Henry, and though I knew that I -could see him often, yet the same roof would not cover us. But my life, -hitherto, had been too dark and oppressed for me to pause and mourn over -the "crumpled rose-leaf;" and so, with right hearty good will I set to -work "packing Miss Nancy's trunk," and gathering up her little articles -that had lain scattered about the room. - -An upholsterer had been sent out to get the house ready for us. When we -were on the eve of starting, Henry came to carry the luggage, and Miss -Nancy paid him seventy-five cents, at which he took off his hat, made a -low bow, and said, - -"Thank you, Missis." - -Miss Nancy was seated on the most comfortable cushion, and I directly -opposite, fanning her. - -We drove up to the house, a neat little brick cottage, painted white, -with green shutters, and a deep yard in front, thickly swarded, with a -variety of flowers, and a few forest trees. Beautiful exotics, in rare -plaster, and stone vases, stood about in the yard, and a fine cast-iron -watch-dog slept upon the front steps. Passing through the broad hall, -you had a fine view of the grounds beyond, which were handsomely -decorated. The out-buildings were all neatly painted or white-washed. A -thorough air of neatness presided over the place. On the right of the -hall was the parlor, furnished in the very perfection of taste and -simplicity. - -The carpet was of blue, bespeckled with yellow; a sofa of blue -brocatelle, chairs, and ottomans of the same material, were scattered -about. A cabinet stood over in the left corner, filled with the -collections and curiosities of many years' gathering, whilst the long -blue curtains, with festoonings of lace, swept to the floor! Adjoining -the parlor was the dining-room, with its oaken walls, and cane-colored -floor-cloth. Opposite to the parlor, and fronting the street, was Miss -Nancy's room, with its French bedstead, lounge, bureau, bookcase, table, -and all the et ceteras of comfort. Opening out from her room was a small -apartment, just large enough to contain a bed, chair, and wardrobe, with -a cheap little mirror overhanging a tasteful dresser, whereon were laid -a comb, brush, soap, basin, pitcher, &c. This room had been prepared for -me by my kind mistress. Pointing it out, she said, - -"That, Ann, is your _castle_." I could not restrain my tears. - -"Heaven send me grace to prove my gratitude to you, kind Miss Nancy," I -sobbed out. - -"Why, my poor girl, I deserve no thanks for the performance of my duty. -You are a human being, my good, attentive nurse, and I am bound to -consider your comfort or prove unworthy of my avowed principles." - -"This is so unlike what I have been used to, Miss Nancy, that it excites -my wonder as well as gratitude." - -"I fear, poor child, that you have served in a school of rough -experience! You are so thoroughly disciplined, that, at times, you -excite my keenest pity." - -"Yes, ma'm, I have had all sorts of trouble. The only marvel is that I -am not utterly brutalized." - -"Some time you must tell me your history; but not now, my nerves are too -unquiet to listen to an account so harrowing as I know your recital must -be." - -As I adjusted the pillow and arranged the beautiful silk spread (her own -manufacture), I observed that her eyes were filled with tears. I said -nothing, but the sight of _those tears_ served to soften many a painful -recollection of former years. - -I am conscious, in writing these pages, that there will be few of my -white readers who can enter fully into my feelings. It is impossible for -them to know how deeply the slightest act of kindness impressed -_me_--how even a word or tone gently spoken called up all my -thankfulness! Those to whom kindness is common, a mere household -article, whose ears are greeted morning, noon and night, with loving -sounds and kind tones, will deem this strange and exaggerated; but, let -them recollect that I was a _slave_--not a mere servant, but a perpetual -slave, according to the abhorred code of Kentucky; and their wonder will -cease. - -The first night that I threw myself down on my bed to sleep (did I state -that I had a bedstead--that I had _actually_ what slaves deemed a great -luxury--a _high-post bedstead_?) I felt as proud as a queen. Henry had -been to see me. I entertained him in a nice, clean, carpeted kitchen, -until a few minutes of ten o'clock, when he left me; for at that hour, -by the city ordinance, he was obliged to be at home. - -"What," I thought, "have I now to desire? Like the weary dove sent out -from the ark, I have at last found land, peace and safety. Here I can -rest contentedly beneath the waving of the olive branches that guard the -sacred portal of _home!_" _Home!_ home this truly was! A home where the -heart would always love to lurk; and how blessed seemed the word to me, -now that I comprehended its practical significance! No more was it a -fable, an expression merely used to adorn a song or round a verse! - -That first night that I spent at home was not given up to sleep. No, I -was too happy for that! Through the long, mysterious hours, I lay -wakeful on my soft and pleasant pillow, weaving fairest fancies from the -dim chaos of happy hopes. Adown the sloping vista of the future I -descried nought but shade and flowers! - -With my new mistress, I was more like a companion than a servant. My -duties were light--merely to read to her, nurse her, and do her sewing; -and, as she had very little of the latter, I may as well set it down as -the "extras" of my business, rather than the business itself. - -I rose every morning, winter and summer, at five o'clock, and arranged -Miss Nancy's room whilst she slept; and, so accustomed had she become to -my light tread, that she slept as soundly as though no one had been -stirring. After this was done, I placed the family Bible upon a stand -beside her bed; then took my sewing and seated myself at the window, -until she awoke. Then I assisted her in making her morning toilette, -which was very simple; wheeled the easy chair near the bed, and helped -her into it. After which she read a chapter from the holy book, followed -by a beautiful, extemporaneous prayer, in which we were joined by Biddy, -the Irish cook. After this, Miss Nancy's breakfast was brought in on a -large silver tray,--a breakfast consisting of black tea, Graham bread, -and mutton chop. In her appetite, as in her character, she was simple. -After this was over, Biddy and I breakfasted in the kitchen. Our fare -was scarcely so plain, for hearty constitutions made us averse to the -abstemiousness of our mistress. We had hot coffee, steaming steaks, -omelettes and warm biscuits. - -"Ah, but she is a love of a lady!" exclaimed Biddy, as she ate away -heartily at these luxuries. "Where in this city would we find such a -mistress, that allows the servants better fare than she takes herself? -And then she never kapes me from church. I can attend the holy mass, and -even go to vespers every Sunday of my life. The Lord have her soul for -it! But she is as good as a canonized saint, if she is a Protestant!" - -Sometimes I used to repeat these conversations to Miss Nancy. They never -failed to amuse her greatly. - -"Poor Biddy," she would say, in a quiet way, with a sweet smile, "ought -to know that true religion is the same in all. It is not the being a -member of a particular church, or believing certain dogmas of faith, -that make us religious, heirs of God, and joint heirs with Christ. It is -the living religion, not the simple believing of it, that constitutes us -_Christians_. We must feel that all men are our brothers, and all women -our sisters; for in the kingdom of heaven there will be no distinction -of race or color, and I see no reason why we should live differently -here. The Saviour of the world associated with the humblest. His chosen -twelve were the fishermen of Galilee. I want to live in constant -preparation for death; but, alas! my weak endeavor is but seldom crowned -with success." - -How reverently I looked upon her at such times! What a beautiful saint -she was! - -One evening in the leafy month of June, when the intensity of summer -begins to make itself felt, I took my little basket, filled with some -ruffling that I was embroidering for Miss Nancy's wrapper, and seated -myself upon the little portico at the back of the house. I had been -reading to her the greater portion of the day, and felt that it was -pleasant to be left in an indolent, dreamy state of mind, that required -no concentration of thought. As my fingers moved lazily along, I was -humming an old air, that I had heard in far less happy days. Everything -around me was so pleasant! The setting sun was flinging floods of glory -over the earth, and the young moon was out upon her new wing, softening -and beautifying the scene. Afar off, the lull of pleasant waters and the -music-roar of the falls sounded dreamily in my ear! I laid my work down -in the basket, and, with closed eyes, thought over the events and -incidents of my past life of suffering; and, as the dreary picture of my -troubles at Mr. Peterkin's returned to my mind, and my subsequent -imprisonment in the city, my trials at "the pen," and then this my safe -harbor and haven of rest, so strange the whole seemed, that I almost -doubted the reality, and feared to open my eyes, lest the kindly, -illusive dream should be broken forever. But no, it was no dream; for, -upon turning my head, I spied through the unclosed door of the -dining-room the careful arrangement of the tea-table. There it stood, -with its snowy cover, upon which were placed the fresh loaf of Graham -bread, the roll of sweet butter, some parings of cheese, the glass bowl -of fruit and pitcher of cream, together with the friendly tea-urn of -bright silver, from which I, even _I_, had often been supplied with the -delightful beverage. And then, stepping through the door, with a calm -smile on her face, was Miss Nancy herself! How beautifully she looked in -her white, dimity wrapper, with the pretty blue girdle, and tiny lace -cap! She gazed out upon the yard, with the blooming roses, French pinks, -and Colombines that grew in luxuriance. Stepping upon the sward, she -gathered a handful of flowers, clipping them nicely from the bush with a -pair of scissors, that she wore suspended by a chain to her side. Seeing -me on the portico, she said, - -"Ann, bring me my basket and thread here, and wheel my arm-chair out; I -wish to sit with you here." - -I obeyed her with pleasure, for I always liked to have her near me. She -was so much more the friend than the mistress, that I never felt any -reserve in her presence. All was love. As she took her seat in the -arm-chair, I threw a shawl over her shoulders to protect her from any -injurious influence of the evening air. She busied herself tying up the -flowers; and their arrangement of color, &c., with a view to effect, -would have done credit to a florist. My admiration was so much excited, -that I could not deny myself the pleasure of an expression of it. - -"Ah, yes," she answered, "this was one of the amusements of my youth. -Many a bouquet have I tied up in my dear old home." - -I thought I detected a change in her color, and heard a sigh, as she -said this. - -"Of what State are you a native, Miss Nancy?" - -"Dear old Massachusetts," she answered, with a glow of enthusiasm. - -"It is the State, of all others in the Union, for which I have the most -respect." - -"Ah, well may you say that, poor girl," she replied, "for its people -treat your unfortunate race with more humanity than any of the others." - -"I have read a great deal of their liberality and cultivation, of both -mind and heart, which has excited my admiring interest. Then, too, I -have known those born and reared beneath the shadow of its wise and -beneficent laws, and the better I knew them, the more did my admiration -for the State increase. Now I feel that Massachusetts is doubly dear to -me, since I have learned that it is your birth-place." - -She did not say anything, but her mild eyes were suffused with tears. - -Just as I was about to speak to her of Mr. Trueman, Biddy came to -announce tea, and, after that, Miss Nancy desired to be left alone. As -was his custom, with eight o'clock came Henry. We sat out on the -portico, with the moonlight shining over us, and talked of the future! I -told him what Miss Nancy said of Massachusetts, and, I believe, he was -seized with the idea of going thither after purchasing himself. - -He was unusually cheerful. He had made a great deal in the last few -months; had grown to be quite a favorite with the keeper of the hotel, -and was liberally paid for his Sunday and holiday labors, and, by -errands for, and donations from, the boarders, had contrived to lay up a -considerable sum. - -"I hope, dearest, to be able soon to accomplish my freedom; then I shall -be ready to buy you. How much does Miss Nancy ask for you?" - -"Oh, Henry, I cannot leave her, even if I were able to pay down every -cent that she demands for me. I should dislike to go away from her. She -is so kind and good; has been such a friend to me that I could not -desert her. Who would nurse her? Who would feel the same interest in her -that I do? No, I will stay with her as long as she lives, and do all I -can to prove my gratitude." - -"What do you mean, Ann? Would you refuse to make me happy? Miss Nancy -has other friends who would wait upon her." - -"But, Henry, that does not release me from my obligation. When she was -on the eve of starting upon a journey, you went to her with the story of -my danger. She promptly consented to buy me without even seeing me. I -was not purchased as an article of property; with the noble liberality -of a philanthropist, she ransomed, at a heavy price, a suffering -sister, and shall I be such an ingrate as to leave her? No, she and Mr. -Trueman of Boston, are the two beings whom I would willingly serve -forever." - -Just then a deep sigh burst from the full heart of some one, and I -thought I heard a retreating footstep. - -"Who can that have been?" asked Henry. - -We examined the hall, the dining-room, my apartment; and I knocked at -Miss Nancy's door, but, receiving no answer, I judged she was asleep. - -"It was but one of those peculiar voices of the night, which are the -better heard from this intense silence," said Henry, and, finding that -my alarm was quieted, he bade me an affectionate good-night, and so we -parted. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIII. - -AN AWFUL REVELATION--MORE CLOUDS TO DARKEN THE SUN OF LIFE--SICKNESS AND -BLESSED INSENSIBILITY. - - -I slept uninterruptedly that night, and, on awaking in the morning, I -was surprised to find it ten minutes past five. Hurrying on my clothes, -I went to Miss Nancy's apartment, and was much surprised to find her -sitting in her easy chair, her toilette made. Looking up from the Bible, -which lay open on the stand before her, she said, - -"I have stolen a march, Ann, and have risen before you." - -"Yes, ma'm," replied I, in a mortified tone, "I am ten minutes behind -the time; I am very sorry, and hope you will excuse me." - -"No apologies, now; I hope you do not take me for a cruel, exacting -task-mistress, who requires every inch of your time." - -"No, indeed, I do not, for I know you to be the kindest mistress and -best friend in the world." - -"And now, Ann, I will read some from the Lamentations of Jeremiah; and -we will unite in family prayer." - -At the ringing of the little bell Biddy quickly appeared, and we seated -ourselves near Miss Nancy, and listened to her beautiful voice as it -broke forth in the plaintive eloquence of the holy prophet! - -"Let us pray," she said, fervently, extending her thin, white hands -upward, and we all sank upon our knees. She prayed for grace to rest on -the household; for its extension over the world; that it might visit the -dark land of the South; that the blood of Christ might soften the hearts -of slave-holders. She asked, in a special manner, for power to carry out -her good intentions; prayed that the blessing of God might be given to -me, in a particular manner, to enable me to meet the trials of life, and -invoked benedictions upon Biddy. - -When we rose, both Biddy and I were weeping; and as we left her, Biddy -broke forth in all her Irish enthusiasm, "The Lord love her heart! but -she is sanctified! I never heard a prettier _prayer said in the -Cathedral_!" - - * * * * * - -Miss Nancy's health improved a great deal. She began to walk of evenings -through the yard, and a little in the city. I always attended her. Of -mornings we rode in a carriage that she hired for the occasion, and of -evenings Henry came, and always brought with him his banjo. - -One evening he and Louise came round to sit with me, and after we had -been out upon the portico listening to Henry's songs, Miss Nancy bade me -go to the sideboard and get some cake and wine. Placing it on the table -in the dining-room, I invited them, in Miss Nancy's name, to come in and -partake of it. After proposing the health of my kind Mistress, to which -we all drank, Biddy joining in, Louise pledged a glass to the speedy -ransom of Henry. Just then Miss Nancy entered, saying: - -"My good Henry, when you buy yourself, and find a home in the North, -write us word where you have established yourself, and I will -immediately make out Ann's free papers, and remove thither; but I cannot -think of losing my good nurse. So, for her's, your's and my own -convenience, I will take up my residence wherever you may settle. Stop -now, Ann, no thanks; I know all about your gratitude, for I was a -pleased, though unintentional listener to a conversation between -yourself and Henry, in which I found out how deep is your attachment to -me." - -Hers, then, was the sigh which had so alarmed me! It was all explained. -I had no words to express my overflowing heart. My whole soul seemed -melted. Henry's eyes were filled with grateful tears. He sank upon his -knees and kissed the hem of Miss Nancy's dress. - -"No, no, my brave-hearted man, do not kneel to me. I am but the humble -instrument under Heaven; and, oh, how often have I prayed for such an -opportunity as this to do good, and dispense happiness." - -And so saying she glided out of the room. - -"Well," exclaimed Biddy, "she is more than a saint, she is an angel," -and she wiped the tears from her honest eyes. - -"I have known her for some time," said Louise, "and never saw her do, or -heard of her doing a wrong action. She is very different from her -brother. Does he come here often, Ann?" - -"Not often; about once a fortnight." - -"He is too much taken up with business; hasn't a thought outside of his -counting-room. He doesn't share in any of her philanthropic ideas." - -"She hasn't her equal on earth," added Henry. "Mr. Moodwell is a good -man, though not good enough to be _her_ brother." - -Thus passed away the evening, until the near approach of ten o'clock -warned them to leave. - -I was too happy for sleep. Many a wakeful night had I passed from -unhappiness, but now I was sleepless from joy. - - * * * * * * * - -The next morning, after Miss Nancy had breakfasted, I asked her what I -should read to her. - -"Nothing this morning, Ann. I had rather you would talk with me. Let us -arrange for the future; but first tell me how much money does Henry lack -to buy himself?" - -"About one hundred dollars." - -"I think I can help him to make that up." - -"You have already done enough, dear Miss Nancy. We could not ask more of -you." - -"No, but I am anxious to do all I can for you, my good girl. You are -losing the greenest part of your lives. I feel that it is wrong for you -to remain thus." - -Seeing that I was in an unusually calm mood, she asked me to tell her -the story of my life, or at least the main incidents. I entered upon the -narrative with the same fidelity that I have observed in writing these -memoirs. At many points and scenes I observed her weeping bitterly. -Fearing that the excitement might prove too great for her strength, I -several times urged her to let me stop; but she begged me to go on -without heeding her, for she was deeply interested. - -When I came to the account of my meeting with Mr. Trueman, she bent -eagerly forward, and asked if it was Justinian Trueman, of Boston. Upon -my answering in the affirmative, she exclaimed: - -"How like him! The same noble, generous, disinterested spirit!" - -"Do you know him, Miss Nancy?" - -"Oh yes, child, he is one of our prominent Northern men, a very able -lawyer; every one in the State of Massachusetts knows him by reputation, -but I have a personal acquaintance also." - -Just as I was about to ask her something of Mr. Trueman's history, Biddy -came running in, exclaiming: - -"Oh, dear me! Miss Nancy! what do you think? They say that Mr. Barkoff, -the green grocer, has let his wife whip a colored woman to death." - -"Oh, it can't be true," cried Miss Nancy, as she started up from her -chair. "It is, I trust, some slanderous piece of gossip." - -"Oh, the Lord love your saintly heart, but I do believe 'tis true, for, -as I went down the street to market, I heard some awful screaming in -there, and I asked a girl, standing on the pavement, what it meant; and -she said Mrs. Barkoff was whipping a colored woman; then, when I came -back there was a crowd of children and colored people round the back -gate, and one of them told me the woman was dead, and that she died -shouting." - -"Oh, God, how fearful is this!" exclaimed Miss Nancy, as the big tears -rolled down her pale cheeks. "Give me, oh, sweet Jesus, the power to -pray as Thou didst, to the Eternal Father, 'to forgive them, for they -know not what they do!'" - -"Come, Ann," continued the impetuous Biddy, "you go with me, and we'll -try to find out all about it. We will go to see the woman." - -"I cannot leave Miss Nancy." - -"Yes, go with her, Ann; but don't allow her to say anything imprudent. -Poor Biddy has such a good, philanthropic heart, that she forgets the -patient spirit which Christianity inculcates." - -With a strange kind of awe, I followed Biddy through the streets, -scarcely heeding her impassioned garrulity. The blood seemed freezing in -my veins, and my teeth chattered as though it had been the depth of -winter. As we drew near the place, I knew the house by the crowd that -had gathered around the back and side gates. - -"Let us enter here," said Biddy, as she placed her hand upon the heavy -plank gate at the back of the lot. - -"Stop, Biddy, stop," I gasped out, as I held on to the gate for support, -"I feel that I shall suffocate. Give me one moment to get my breath." - -"Oh, Ann, you are only frightened," and she led me into the yard, where -we found about a dozen persons, mostly colored. - -"Where is the woman that's been kilt?" inquired Biddy, of a mulatto -girl. - -"She ain't quite dead. Pity she isn't out of her misery, poor soul," -said the mulatto girl. - -"But where is she?" demanded Biddy. - -"Oh, in thar, the first room in the basement," and, half-led by Biddy, I -passed in through a mean, damp, musty basement. The noxious atmosphere -almost stifled us. Turning to the left as directed, we entered a low, -comfortless room, with brick walls and floor. Upon a pile of straw, in -this wretched place, lay a bleeding, torn, mangled body, with scarcely -life in it. Two colored women were bathing the wounds and wrapping -greased cloths round the body. I listened to her pitiful groans, until I -thought my forbearance would fail me. - -"Poor soul!" said one of the colored women, "she has had a mighty bad -convulsion. I wish she could die and be sot free from misery." - -"Whar is de white folks?" asked another. - -"Oh, dey is skeered, an' done run off an' hid up stairs." - -"Who done it?" - -"Why, Miss Barkoff; she put Aunt Kaisy to clean de harth, an' you see, -de poor ole critter had a broken arm. De white folks broke it once when -dey was beatin' of her, and so she couldn't work fast. Well den, too, -she'd been right sick for long time. You see she was right sickly like, -an' when Miss Barkoff come back--she'd only bin gone a little while--an' -see'd dat de harth wasn't done, she fell to beatin' of de poor ole sick -critter, an' den bekase she cried an' hollered, she tuck her into de -coal-house, gagged her mouth, tied her hands an' feet, an' fell to -beatin' of her, an' she beat her till she got tired, den ole Barkoff -beat her till he got satisfied. Den some colored person seed him, an' -tole him dat he better stop, for Aunt Kaisy was most gone." - -"Yes, 'twas me," said the other woman, "I was passin' 'long at de back -of de lot, an' I hearn a mighty quare noise, so I jist looked through -the crack, an' there I seed him a beatin' of her, an' I hollered to him -to stop, for de Lor' sake, or she would die right dar. Den he got -skeered an' run off in de house." - -The narration was here interrupted by a fearful groan from the sufferer. -One of the women very gently turned her over, with her face full toward -me. - -Oh, God have mercy on me! In those worn, bruised anguish-marked -features, in the glance of that failing, filmy eye, I recognized my -long-lost mother! With one loud shriek I fell down beside her! After -years of bitter separation, thus to meet! Oh that the recollection had -faded from my mind, but no, that awful sight is ever before my eyes! I -see her, even now, as there she lay bleeding to death! Oh that I had -been spared the knowledge of it! - -There was the same mark upon the brow, and, I suppose, more by that -than the remembered features, was I enabled to identify her. - -My frantic screams soon drew a crowd of persons to the room. - -My mother, my dear, suffering mother, unclosed her eyes, and, by that -peculiar mesmerism belonging to all mothers, she knew it was her child -whose arms were around her. - -"Ann, is it you?" she asked feebly. - -"Yes, mother, it is I; but, oh, how do I find you!" - -"Never mind me, child, I feel that I shall soon be at peace! 'Tis for -you that I am anxious. Have you a good home?" - -"Yes; oh, that you had had such!" - -"Thank God for that. You are a woman now, I think; but I am growing -blind, or it is getting dark so fast that I cannot see you. Here, here, -hold me Ann, child, hold me close to you, I am going through the floor, -sinking, sinking down. Catch me, catch me, hold me! It is dark; I can't -see you, where, where are you?" - -"Here, mother, here, I am close to you." - -"Where, child, I can't see you; here catch me;" and, suddenly springing -up as if to grasp something, she fell back upon the straw----_a corpse_! - -After such a separation, this was our meeting--and parting! I had hoped -that life's bitterest drop had been tasted, but this was as "vinegar -upon nitre." - -When I became conscious that the last spark of life was extinct in that -beloved body, I gave myself up to the most delirious grief. As I looked -upon that horrid, ghastly, mangled form, and thought it was my mother, -who had been butchered by the whites, my very blood was turned to gall, -and in this chaos of mind I lost the faculty of reason. - - * * * * * * * * - -When my consciousness returned I was lying on a bed in my room, the -blinds of which were closed, and Miss Nancy was seated beside me, -rubbing my hands with camphor. As I opened my eyes, they met her kind -glance fixed earnestly upon me. - -"You are better, Ann," she said, in a low, gentle voice. I was too -languid to reply; but closed my eyes again, with a faint smile. When I -once more opened them I was alone, and through one shutter that had -blown open, a bright ray of sunlight stole, and revealed to me the care -and taste with which my room had been arranged. Fresh flowers in neat -little vases adorned the mantel; and the cage, containing Miss Nancy's -favorite canary, had been removed to my room. The music of this -delightful songster broke gratefully upon my slowly awakening faculties. -I rose from the bed, and seated myself in the large arm-chair. Passing -my hand across my eyes, I attempted to recall the painful incidents of -the last few days; and as that wretched death-bed rose upon my memory, -the scalding tears rushed to my eyes, and I wept long, long, as though -my head were turned to waters! - -Miss Nancy entered, and finding me in tears she said nothing; but turned -and left the room. Shortly after, Biddy appeared with some nourishment, - -"Laws, Ann, but you have been dreadfully sick. You had fever, and talked -out of your head. Henry was here every evening. He said that once afore, -when you took the fevers, you was out of your head, just the same way. -He brought you flowers; there they are in the vase," and she handed me -two beautiful bouquets. - -In this pleasant way she talked on until I had satisfied the cravings of -an empty stomach with the niceties she had brought me. - -That evening Henry came, and remained with me about half an hour. Miss -Nancy warned him that it was not well to excite me much. So with -considerable reluctance he shortened his visit. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIX. - -GRADUAL RETURN OF HAPPY SPIRITS--BRIGHTER PROSPECTS--AN OLD -ACQUAINTANCE. - - -When I began to gain strength Miss Nancy took me out in a carriage of -evenings; and had it not been for the melancholy recollections that hung -like a pall around my heart, life would have been beautiful to me. As we -drove slowly through the brightly-lighted streets, and looked in at the -gaudy and flaunting windows, where the gayest and most elegant articles -of merchandise were exhibited, I remarked to Miss Nancy, with a sigh, -"Life might be made a very gay and cheerful thing--almost a pleasure, -were it not for the wickedness of men." - -"Ah, yes, it might, indeed," she replied, and the big tears rested upon -her eyelids. - -One evening when we had returned from a drive, I noticed that she ate -very little supper, and her hand trembled violently. - -"You are sick, Miss Nancy," I said. - -"Yes, Ann, I feel strangely," she replied. - -"To-morrow you must go for my brother, and I will have a lawyer to draw -up my will. It would be dreadful if I were to die suddenly without -making a provision for you; then the bonds of slavery would be riveted -upon you, for by law you would pass into my brother's possession." - -"Don't trouble yourself about it now, dear Miss Nancy," I said; "your -life is more precious than my liberty." - -"Not so, my good girl. The dawn of your life was dark, I hope that the -close may be bright. The beginning of mine was full of flowers; the -close will be serene, I trust; but ah, I've outlived many a blessed hope -that was a very rainbow in my dreaming years." - -I had always thought Miss Nancy's early life had been filled with -trouble; else why and whence her strange, subdued, melancholy nature! -How much I would have given had she told me her history; yet I would not -add to her sadness by asking her to tell me of it. - -The next morning I went for Mr. Moodwell, who, at Miss Nancy's instance, -summoned a notary. The will was drawn up and witnessed by two competent -persons. - -After this she began to improve rapidly. Her strength of body and -cheerfulness returned. About this time my peace of mind began to be -restored. Of my poor mother I never spoke, after hearing the particulars -that followed her death. She was hurriedly buried, without psalm or -sermon. No notice was taken by the citizens of her murder--why should -there be? She was but a poor slave, grown old and gray in the service of -the white man; and if her master chose to whip her to death, who had a -right to gainsay him? She was his property to have and to hold; to use -or to kill, as he thought best! - -Give us no more Fourth of July celebrations; the rather let us have a -Venetian oligarchy! - -Miss Nancy, in her kind, persuasive manner, soon lured my thoughts away -from such gloomy contemplations. She sought to point out the pleasant, -easy pathway of wisdom and religion, and I thank her now for the good -lessons she then taught me! Beneath such influence I gradually grew -reconciled to my troubles. Miss Nancy fervently prayed that they might -be sanctified to my eternal good; and so may they! - -Louise came often to see me, and I found her then as now, the kindest -and most willing friend; everything that she could do to please me she -did. She brought me many gifts of books, flowers, fruits, &c. I may have -been petulant and selfish in my grief; but those generous friends bore -patiently with me. - -Pleasant walks I used to take with Henry of evenings, and he was then -so full of hope, for he had almost realized the sum of money that his -master required of him. - -"Master will be down early in September," he said, as we strolled along -one evening in August, "and I think by borrowing a little from Miss -Nancy, I shall be able to pay down all that I owe him, and then, -dearest, I shall be free--free! only think of it! Of _me_ being a free -man, master of _myself_! and when we go to the North we will be married, -and both of us will live with Miss Nancy, and guard her declining days." - -Happy tears were shining in his bright eyes, like dew-pearls; but, with -a strong, manly hand he dashed them away, and I clung the fonder to that -arm, that I hoped would soon be able to protect me. - -"There is one foolish little matter, dearest, that I will mention, more -to excite your merriment, than fear," said Henry with an odd smile. - -"What is it?" - -"Well, promise me not to care about it; only let it give you a good -laugh." - -"Yes, I promise." - -"Well," and he paused for a moment, "there is a girl living near the -G---- House. She belongs to Mr. Bodley, and has taken a foolish fancy to -me; has actually made advances, even more than advances, actual offers -of love! She says she used to know you, and, on one occasion, attempted -to speak discreditably of you; though I quickly gave her to understand -that I would not listen to it. Why do you tremble so, Ann?" - -And truly I trembled so violently, that if it had not been for the -support that his arm afforded me, I should have fallen to the ground. - -"What is her name?" I asked. - -"Melinda, and says she once belonged to Mr. Peterkin." - -"Yes, she did. We used to call her Lindy." - -I then told him what an evil spirit she had been in my path; and -ventured to utter a suspicion that her work of harm was yet unfinished, -that she meant me further injury. - -"I know her now, dearest. You have unmasked her, and, with me, she can -have no possible power." - -I seemed to be satisfied, though in reality I was not, for apprehension -of an indefinable something troubled me sorely. The next day Miss Nancy -observed my troubled abstraction, and inquired the cause, with so much -earnestness, that I could not withhold my confidence, and gave her a -full account. - -"And you think she will do you an injury?" - -"I fear so." - -"But have you not forestalled that by telling Henry who she is, and how -she has acted toward you?" - -"Yes, ma'm, and have been assured by him that she can do me no harm; but -the dread remains." - -"Oh, you are in a weak, nervous state; I am astonished at Henry for -telling you such a thing at this time." - -"He thought, ma'm, that it would amuse me, as a fine joke; and so I -supposed I should have enjoyed it." - -She did all she could to divert my thoughts, made Henry bring his banjo, -and play for me of evenings; bought pleasant romances for me to read; -ordered a carriage for a daily ride; purchased me many pretty articles -of apparel; but, most of all, I appreciated her kind and cheerful talk, -in which she strove to beguile me from everything gloomy or sad. - -Once she sent me down to spend the day with Louise at the G---- House. -There was quite a crowd at the hotel. Southerners, who had come up to -pass their summer at the watering-places in Kentucky, had stopped here, -and, finding comfortable lodgment, preferred it to the springs; then -there were many others travelling to the North and East _via_ L----, who -were stopping there. This increased Henry's duties, so that I saw him -but seldom during the day. Once or twice he came to Louise's room, and -told me that he was unusually busy; but that he had earned four dollars -that day, from different persons, in small change, and that he would be -able to make his final payment the next month. - -All this was very encouraging, and I was in unusually fine spirits. As -Louise and I sat talking in the afternoon, she remarked-- - -"Well, Ann, early next month Henry will make his last payment; and we -have concluded to go North the latter part of the same month. When will -Miss Nancy be ready to go?" - -"Oh, she can make her arrangements to start at the same time. I will -speak to her about it this evening." - -And then, as we sat planning about a point of location, a shadow -darkened the door. I looked up--and, after a long separation, despite -both natural and artificial changes, I recognized _Lindy_! I let my -sewing fall from my hands and gazed upon her with as much horror as if -she had been an apparition! Louise spoke kindly to her, and asked her to -walk in. - -"Why, how d'ye do, Ann? I hearn you was livin' in de city, and intended -to come an' see you." - -I stammered out something, and she seated herself near me, and began to -revive old recollections. - -"They are not pleasant, Lindy, and I would rather they should be -forgotten." - -"Laws, I's got a very good home now; but I 'tends to marry some man that -will buy me, and set me free! Now, I's got my eye sot on Henry." - -I trembled violently, but did not trust myself to speak. Louise, -however, in a quick tone, replied: - -"He is engaged, and soon to be married to Ann." - -"Laws! I doesn't b'lieve it; Ann shan't take him from me." - -Though this was said playfully, it was easy for me to detect, beneath -the seeming levity, a strong determination, on her part, to do her very -_worst_. No wonder that I trembled before her, when I remembered how -powerful an enemy she had been in former times. - -With a few other remarks she left, and Louise observed: - -"That Lindy is a queer girl. With all her ignorance and ugliness, she -excites my dread when I am in her presence--a dread of a supposed and -envenomed power, such as the black cat possesses." - -"Such has ever been the feeling, Louise, that she has excited in me. -She has done me harm heretofore; and do you know, I think she means me -ill now. I have uttered this suspicion to Henry and Miss Nancy, but they -both laughed it to scorn--saying _she_ was powerless to injure _me_; but -still my fear remains, and, when I think of her, I grow sick at heart." - -Upon my return home that evening I told Miss Nancy of the meeting with -Lindy, and of the conversation, but she attached no importance to it. - -No one living beneath the vine and fig-tree of Miss Nancy's planting, -and sharing the calm blessedness of her smiles, could be long unhappy! -Her life, as well as words, was a proof that human nature is not all -depraved. In thinking over the rare combination of virtues that her -character set forth, I have marvelled what must have been her childhood. -Certainly she could never have possessed the usual waywardness of -children. Her youth must have been an exception to the general rule. I -cannot conceive her with the pettishness and proneness to quarrel, which -we naturally expect in children. I love to think of her as a quiet -little Miss, discarding the doll and play-house, turning quietly away -from the frolicsome kitten--seeking the leafy shade of the New England -forests--peering with a curious, thoughtful eye into the woodland -dingle--or straining her gaze far up into the blue arch of heaven--or -questioning, with a child's idle speculation, the whence and the whither -of the mysterious wind. 'Tis thus I have pictured her childhood! She was -a strange, gifted, unusual woman;--who, then, can suppose that her -infancy and youth were ordinary? - -To this day her memory is gratefully cherished by hundreds. Many little -pauper children have felt the kindness of her charity; and those who are -now independent remember the time when her bounty rescued them from -want, and "they rise up to call her blessed!" - -Often have I gone with her upon visits and errands of charity. Through -many a dirty alley have those dainty feet threaded a dangerous way; and -up many a dizzy, dismal flight of ricketty steps have I seen them -ascend, and never heard a petulant word, or saw a haughty look upon her -face! She never went upon missions of charity in a carriage, or, if she -was too weak to walk all the way, she discharged the vehicle before she -got in sight of the hovel. "Let us not be ostentatious," she would say, -when I interposed an objection to her taking so long a walk. "Besides," -she added, "let us give no offence to these suffering poor ones. Let -them think we come as sisters to relieve them; not as Dives, flinging to -Lazarus the crumbs of our bounty!" - -Beautiful Christian soul! baptized with the fire of the Holy Ghost, -endowed with the same saintly spirit that rendered lovely the life of -her whom the Saviour called Mother! thou art with the Blessed now! After -a life of earnest, godly piety, thou hast gone to receive thine -inheritance above, and wear the Amaranthine Crown! for thou didst obey -the Saviour's sternest mandate--sold thy possessions, and gave all to -the poor! - - - - -CHAPTER XL. - -THE CRISIS OF EXISTENCE--A DREADFUL PAGE IN LIFE. - - -I have paused much before writing this chapter. I have taken up my pen -and laid it down an hundred times, with the task unfulfilled--the duty -unaccomplished. A nervous sensation, a chill of the heart, have -restrained my pen--yet the record must be made. - -I have that to tell, from which both body and soul shrink. Upon me a -fearful office has been laid! I would that others, with colder blood and -less personal interest, could make this disclosure; but it belongs to my -history; nay, is the very nucleus from which all my reflections upon the -institution of slavery have sprung. Reader, did you ever have a wound--a -deep, almost a mortal wound--whereby your life was threatened, which, -after years of nursing and skilful surgical treatment, had healed, and -was then again rudely torn open? This is my situation. I am going to -tear open, with a rude hand, a deep wound, that time and kind friends -have not availed to cure. But like little, timid children, hurrying -through a dark passage, fearing to look behind them, I shall hasten -rapidly over this part of my life, never pausing to comment upon the -terrible facts I am recording. "I have placed my hand to the -ploughshare, and will not turn back." - -Let me recall that fair and soft evening, in the early September, when -Henry and I, with hand clasped in hand, sat together upon the little -balcony. How sweet-scented was the gale that fanned our brows! The air -was soft and balmy, and the sweet serenity of the hour was broken only -by that ever-pleasant music of the gently-roaring falls! Fair and -queenly sailed the uprisen moon, through a cloudless sea of blue, whilst -a few faint stars, like fire-flies, seemed flitting round her. - -Long we talked of the happiness that awaited us on the morrow. Henry had -arranged to meet his master, Mr. Graham, on that day, and make the final -payment. - -"Dearest, I lack but fifty dollars of the amount," he said, as he laid -his head confidingly on my shoulder. - -"Ten of which I can give you." - -"And the remaining forty I will make up," said Miss Nancy as she stepped -out of the door, and, placing a pocket-book in Henry's hand, she added, -"there is the amount, take it and be happy." - -Whilst he was returning thanks, I went to get my contribution. Drawing -from my trunk the identical ten-dollar note that good Mr. Trueman had -given me, I hastened to present it to Henry, and make out the sum that -was to give us both so much joy. - -"Here, Henry," I exclaimed, as I rejoined them, "are ten dollars, which -kind Mr. Trueman gave me." - -Miss Nancy sighed deeply. I turned around, but she said with a smile: - -"How different is your life now from what it was when that money was -given you." - -"Yes, indeed," I answered; "and, thanks, my noble benefactress, to you -for it." - -"Let me," she continued, without noticing my remark, "see that note." - -I immediately handed it to her. Could I be mistaken? No; she actually -pressed it to her lips! But then she was such a philanthropist, and she -loved the note because it was the means of bringing us happiness. She -handed it back to me with another sigh. - -"When he gave it to me, he bade me receive it as his contribution toward -the savings I was about to lay up for the purchase of myself. Now what -joy it gives me to hand it to you, Henry." He was weeping, and could not -trust his voice to answer. - -"And Ann shall soon be free. Next week we will all start for the North, -and then, my good friends, your white days will commence," said Miss -Nancy. - -"Oh, Heaven bless you, dear saint," cried Henry, whose utterance was -choked by tears. Miss Nancy and I both wept heartily; but mine were -happy tears, grateful as the fragrant April showers! - -"Why this is equal to a camp-meeting," exclaimed Louise, who had, -unperceived by us, entered the front-door, passed through the hall, and -now joined us upon the portico. - -Upon hearing of Henry's good fortune, she began to weep also. - -"Will you not let me make one of the party for the North?" she inquired -of Miss Nancy. - -"Certainly, we shall be glad to have you, Louise; but come, Henry, get -your banjo, and play us a pleasant tune." - -He obeyed with alacrity, and I never heard his voice sound so rich, -clear and ringing. How magnificent he looked, with the full radiance of -the moonlight streaming over his face and form! His long flossy black -hair was thrown gracefully back from his broad and noble brow; whilst -his dark flashing eye beamed with unspeakable joy, and the animation -that flooded his soul lent a thrill to his voice, and a majesty to his -frame, that I had never seen or heard before. Surely I was very proud -and happy as I looked on him then! - -Before we parted, Miss Nancy invited him and Louise to join us in family -devotion. After reading a chapter in the Bible, and a short but eloquent -and impressive prayer, she besought Heaven to shed its most benign -blessings on us; and that our approaching good fortune might not make us -forget Him from whom every good and perfect gift emanated; and thus -closed that delightful evening! - -After Henry had taken an affectionate farewell of me, and departed with -Louise, he, to my surprise, returned in a few moments, and finding the -house still open, called me out upon the balcony. - -"Dearest, I could not resist a strange impulse that urged me to come -back and look upon you once again. How beautiful you are, my love!" he -said as he pushed the masses of hair away from my brow, and imprinted a -kiss thereon. He was so tardy in leaving, that I had to chide him two or -three times. - -"I cannot leave you, darling." - -"But think," I replied, "of the joy that awaits us on the morrow." - -At last, and at Miss Nancy's request, he left, but turned every few -steps to look back at the house. - -"How foolish Henry is to-night," said Miss Nancy, as she withdrew her -head from the open window. "Success and love have made him foolishly -fond!" - -"Quite turned his brain," I replied; "but he will soon be calm again." - -"Oh, yes, he will find that life is an earnest work, as well for the -freeman as the bondsman." - -I lay for a long time on my bed in a state of sleeplessness, and it was -past midnight when I fell asleep, and then, oh, what a terrible dream -came to torture me! I thought I had been stolen off by a kidnapper, and -confined for safe keeping in a charnel-house, an ancient receptacle for -the dead, and there, with blue lights burning round me, I lay amid the -dried bones and fleshless forms of those who had once been living -beings; and the vile and loathsome gases almost stifled me. By that dim -blue light I strove to find some door or means of egress from the -terrible place, and just as I had found the door and was about to fit a -rusty key into the lock, a long, lean body, decked out in shroud, -winding-sheet and cap, with hollow cheek and cadaverous face, and eyes -devoid of all speculation, suddenly seized me with its cold, skeleton -hand. Slowly the face assumed the expression of Lindy's, then faded into -that of Mr. Peterkin's. I attempted to break from it, but I was held -with a vice-like power. With a loud, frantic scream I broke from the -trammels of sleep. A cold, death-like sweat had broken out on my body. -My screaming had aroused Miss Nancy and Biddy. Both came rushing into my -room. - -After a few moments I told them of my dream. - -"A bad attack of incubus," remarked Miss Nancy, "but she is cold; rub -her well, Biddy." - -With a very good will the kind-hearted Irish girl obeyed her. I could -not, however, be prevailed upon to try to sleep again; and as it wanted -but an hour of the dawn, Biddy consented to remain up with me. We -dressed ourselves, and sitting down by the closed window, entered into a -very cheerful conversation. Biddy related many wild legends of the -"_ould country_," in which I took great interest. - -Gradually we saw the stars disappear, and the moon go down, and the pale -gray streaks of dawn in the eastern sky! - -I threw up the windows, exclaiming: "Oh, Biddy, as the day dawns, I -begin to suffocate. I feel just as I did in the dream. Give me air, -quick." More I could not utter, for I fell fainting in the arms of the -faithful girl. She dashed water in my face, chafed my hands and temples, -and consciousness soon returned. - -"Why, happiness and good fortune do excite you strangely; but they say -there are some that it sarves just so." - -"Oh no, Biddy, I am not very well,--a little nervous. I will take some -medicine." - -When I joined Miss Nancy, she refused to let me assist her in dressing, -saying: - -"No, Ann, you look ill. Don't trouble yourself to do anything. Go lie -down and rest." - -I assured her repeatedly that I was perfectly well; but she only smiled, -and said in a commendatory tone, - -"Good girl, good girl!" - -All the morning I was fearfully nervous, starting at every little sound -or noise. At length Miss Nancy became seriously uneasy, and compelled me -to take a sedative. - -As the day wore on, I began to grow calm. The sedative had taken -effect, and my nervousness was allayed. - -I took my sewing in the afternoon, and seated myself in Miss Nancy's -room. Seeing that I was calm, she began a pleasant conversation with me. - -"Henry will be here to-night, Ann, a free man, the owner of himself, the -custodian of his own person, and you must put on your happiest and best -looks to greet him." - -"Ah, Miss Nancy, it seems like too much joy for me to realize. What if -some grim phantom dash down this sparkling cup; just as we are about to -press it to our eager and expectant lips? Such another disappointment I -could not endure." - -"You little goosey, you will mar half of life's joys by these idle -fears." - -"Yes, Miss Nancy," put in Biddy. "Ann is just so narvous ever since that -ugly dream, that she hain't no faith to-day in anything." - -"Have you baked a pretty cake, and got plenty of nice confections ready -to give Henry a celebration supper, good Biddy?" inquired Miss Nancy. - -"Ah, yes, everything is ready, only just look how light and brown my -cake is," and she brought a fine large cake from the pantry, the savory -odor of which would have tempted an anchorite. - -"Then, too," continued the provident Biddy, "the peaches are unusually -soft and sweet. I have pared and sugared them, and they are on the ice -now; oh, we'll have a rale feast." - -"Thanks, thanks, good friends," I said, in a voice choked with emotion. - -"Only just see," exclaimed Biddy, "here comes Louise, running as fast as -her legs will carry her; she's come to be the first to tell you that -Henry is free." - -I rushed with Biddy to the door, and Miss Nancy followed. We were all -eager to hear the good news. - -"Mercy, Louise, what's the matter?" I cried, for her face terrified me. -She was pale as death; her eyes, black and wild, seemed starting from -their sockets, and around her mouth there was that ghastly, livid look, -that almost congealed my blood. - -"Oh, God!" she cried in frenzy, "God have mercy on us all!" and reeled -against the wall. - -"Speak, woman, speak, in heaven's name," I shouted aloud. "Henry! Henry! -Henry! has aught happened to him?" - -"Oh, God!" she said, and her eyes flamed like a fury's; "_he has cut his -throat_, and now lies weltering in his own blood." - -I did not scream, I did not speak. I shed no tears. I did not even close -my eyes. Every sense had turned to stone! For full five minutes I stood -looking in the face of Louise. - -"Why don't you speak, Ann! Cry, imprecate, do something, rather than -stand there with that stony gaze!" said Louise, as she caught me -frantically by the arm. - -"Why did he kill himself?" I asked, in an unfaltering tone. - -"He went, in high spirits, to make his last payment to his master, who -was at the hotel. 'Here, master,' he said, 'is all that I owe you; -please make out the bill of sale, or my free papers.' Mr. Graham took -the money, with a smile, counted it over twice, slowly placed it in his -pocket-book, and said, 'Henry, you are my slave; I hired you to a good -place, where you were well treated; had time to make money for yourself. -Now, according to law, you, as a slave, cannot have or hold property. -Everything, even to your knife, is your master's. All of your earnings -come to me. So, in point of law, I was entitled to all the money that -you have paid me. Legally it was mine, not yours; so I did but receive -from you my own. Notwithstanding all this I was willing to let you have -yourself, and intended to act with you according to our first -arrangement; but upon coming here the other day, a servant girl of Mr. -Bodly's, named Lindy, informed me that you were making preparations to -run off, and cheat me out of the last payment. She stated that you had -told her so; and you intended to start one night this week. I was so -enraged by it, that yesterday I sold you to a negro trader; and you -must start down the river to-morrow.'" - -"'Master, it is a lie of the girl's; I never had any thought of running -off, or cheating you out of your money.' Henry then told him of Lindy's -malice. - -"'Yes, you have proved it was a lie, by coming and paying me: but -nothing can be done now; I have signed the papers, and you are the -property of Atkins. I have not the power to undo what I have done.' - -"'But, Master,' pleaded Henry, 'can't you refund the money that I have -paid you, and let me buy myself from Mr. Atkins?' - -"'Refund the money, indeed! Who ever heard of such impertinence? Have I -not just shown that all that you made was by right of law mine? No; go -down the river, serve your time, work well, and may be in the course of -fifteen or twenty years you may be able to buy yourself.' - -"'Oh, master!' cried out the weeping Henry, 'pity me, please save me, do -something.' - -"'I can do nothing for you; go, get your trunk ready, here comes Mr. -Atkins for you.' - -"Henry turned towards the hard trader, and with a face contracted with -pain, and eyes raining tears, begged for mercy. - -"'Go long you fool of a nigger! an' git ready to go to the pen, without -this fuss, or I'll have you tied with ropes, and taken.' - -"Henry said no more; I had overheard all from an adjoining room. I tried -to avoid him; but he sought me out. - -"'Louise,' he said, in a tone which I shall never forget. - -"'I have heard all,' was my reply. - -"'Will you see Ann for me? Take her a word from me? Tell how it was, -Louise; break the news gently to her.' Here he quite gave up, and, -sinking into a chair, sobbed and cried like a child. - -"'Be a friend to her, Louise; I know that she will need much kindness to -sustain her. Thank Miss Nancy for all her kindness; tell her that I -blest her before I went. Tell Ann to stay with her, and oh, -Louise'--here he wrung his hands in agony--'tell Ann not to grieve for -me; but she mustn't forget me. Poor, wretched outcast that I am, I have -loved her well! After awhile, when time has softened this blow, she must -try to love and be happy with---- No, no, I'll not ask that; only bid -her not be wretched;--but give me pen and ink, I'll write just one word -to her.' - -"I gave him the ink, pen and paper, and he wrote this." - -As Louise drew a soiled, blotted paper from her bosom, I eagerly -snatched it and read: - -"Ann, dearest, Louise will tell you all. Our dream is broken forever! I -_am sold_; but I shall be a slave _no more_. Forgive me for what I am -going to do. Madness has driven me to it! I love you, even in death I -love you. Say farewell to Miss Nancy--I _am gone_!" - -I read it over twice slowly. One scalding tear, large and round, fell -upon it! I know not where it came from, for my eyes were dry as a -parched leaf. - -The note dropped from my hands, almost unnoticed by me. Biddy picked it -up, and handed it to Miss Nancy, who read it and fainted. I moved about -mechanically; assisted in restoring Miss Nancy to consciousness; chafed -her hands and temples; and, when she came to, and burst into a flood of -tears, I soothed her and urged that she would not weep or distress -herself. - -"I wonder that the earth don't open and swallow them," cried the weeping -Biddy. - -"Hush, Biddy, hush!" I urged. - -"They ought to be hung!" - -"'Vengeance is mine, and I will repay, saith the Lord,'" I replied. - -"Oh, Ann, you are crazy!" she uttered. - -And so, in truth, I was. That granite-like composure was a species of -insanity. I comprehended nothing that was going on around me. I was in a -sort of sleep-waking state, when I asked Louise if she thought they -would bury him decently; and gave her a bunch of flowers to place in the -coffin. - -And so my worst suspicion was realized! Through Lindy came my heaviest -blow of affliction! I fear that even now, after the lapse of years, I -have not the Christianity to ask, "Father, forgive her, for she knew not -what she did!" Lying beside me now, dear, sympathetic reader, is _that -note--his last brief words_. Before writing this chapter I read it over. -Old, soiled and worn it was, but by his trembling fingers those blotted -and irregular lines were penned; and to me they are precious, though -they awaken ten thousand bitter emotions! I look at the note but once a -year, and then on the fatal anniversary, which occurs to-day! I have -pressed it to my heart, and hearsed it away, not to be re-opened for -another year. This is the blackest chapter in my dark life, and you will -feel, with me, glad that it is about to close. I have nerved myself for -the duty of recording it, and, now that it is over, I sink down faint -and broken-hearted beside the accomplished task. - - - - -CHAPTER XLI. - -A REVELATION--DEATH THE PEACEFUL ANGEL--CALMNESS. - - -Months passed by after the events told in the last chapter--_passed_, I -scarce know how. They have told me that I wandered about like one in the -mazes of a troubled dream. My reason was disturbed. I've no distinct -idea how the days or weeks were employed. Vague remembrances of kindly -words, music, odorous flowers, and a trip to a beautiful, quiet -country-house, I sometimes have; but 'tis all so misty and dream-like, -that I can form no tangible idea of it. So this period has almost faded -out of mind, and is like lost pages from the chronicle of life. - -When the winter was far spent, and during the snowy days of February, my -mind began to collect its shattered forces. The approach of another -trouble brought back consciousness with rekindled vigor. - -One day I became aware that Miss Nancy was very ill. It seemed as if a -thick vapor, like a breath-stain on glass, had suddenly been wiped away -from my mind; and I saw clearly. There lay Miss Nancy upon her bed, -appallingly white, with her large eyes sunken deeply in their sockets, -and her lips purple as an autumn leaf. Her thin, white hand, with -discolored nails, was thrown upon the covering, and aroused my alarm. I -rushed to her, fearing that the vital spark no longer animated that -loved and once lovely frame. - -"Miss Nancy, dear Miss Nancy," I cried, "speak to me, only one word." - -She started nervously, "Oh, who are you? Ah, Ann--is it Ann?" - -"Yes, dear Miss Nancy, it is _I_. It appears as though a film had been -removed from my eyes, and I see how selfish I have been. You have -suffered for my attention. What has been the matter with me?" - -"Oh, dear child, a fearful dispensation of Providence was sent you; and -from the chastisement you are about recovering. Thank God, that you are -still the mistress of your reason! For its safety, I often trembled. I -did all for you that I could; but I was fearful that human skill would -be of no avail." - -"Thanks, my kind friend, and sorry I am for all the anxiety and -uneasiness that I have given you." - -"Oh, I am repaid, or rather was pre-paid for all and more, you were so -kind to me." - -Here Biddy entered, and I took down the Bible and read a few chapters -from the book of Job. - -"What a comfort that book is to us," said Biddy. "Many's the time, Ann, -that Miss Nancy read it to you, when you'd sit an' look so -wandering-like; but you are well now, Ann, an' all will be right with -us." - -"_All_ can never be, Biddy, as once it _was_," and I shook my head. - -"Oh, don't spake of it," and she wiped her moist eyes with her apron. - -Days and weeks passed on thus smoothly, during which time Louise came -often to see us; but the fatal sorrow was never alluded to. By common -consent all avoided it. - -Daily, hourly, Miss Nancy's health sank. I never saw the footsteps of -the grim monster approach more rapidly than in her case. The wasting of -her cheek was like the eating of a worm at the heart of a rose. - -Her bed was wheeled close to the fire, and I read, all the pleasant -mornings, some cheerful book to her. - -Her brother came often, and sat with her through the evenings. Many of -her friends and neighbors offered to watch with her at night; but she -bade me decline all such kindness. - -"You and Biddy are enough. I want no others. Let me die calmly, in the -presence of, my own household, with no unusual faces around," she said -in a low tone. - -She talked about her death as though it were some long journey upon -which she was about starting; gave directions how she should be -shrouded; what kind of coffin we must get, tomb-stone, &c. She enjoined -that we inscribe nothing but her age and name upon the tomb-stone. - -"I wish no ostentatious slab, no false eulogium; my name and age are all -the epitaph I deserve, and all that I will have." - -Several ministers came to see her, and held prayer. She received them -kindly, and spoke at length with some. - -"I shall meet the great change with resignation. I had hoped, Ann, to -see you well settled somewhere in the North; but that will be denied me. -In my will, I have remembered both you and Biddy. I have no parting -advice for either of you; for you are both, though of different faith, -consistent Christians. I hope we shall meet hereafter. You must not -weep, girls, for it pains me to think I leave you troubled." - -When Biddy withdrew, she called me to her, saying, - -"Ann, I am feeble, draw near the bed whilst I talk to you. I hold here -in my hand a letter from my nephew, Robert Worth." - -"Robert Worth? Why I--" - -"Yes, he says that he was at Mr. Peterkin's and remembers you well. He -also speaks of Emily Bradly, who is now in Boston; says that she -recollects you well, and is pleased to hear of your good fortune. Robert -is the son of my elder sister, who is now deceased; a favorite he always -was of mine. He read law in Mr. Trueman's office, and has a very -successful practice at the Boston bar. Long time ago, Ann, when I was a -young, blooming girl, my sister Lydia (Robert's mother) and I were at -school at a very celebrated academy in the North. During one of our -vacations, when we were on a visit to Boston--for we were country -girls--we were introduced to two young barristers, William Worth and -Justinian Trueman. They were strong personal friends. - -"The former became much attached to my sister, and came frequently to -see her. Justinian Trueman came also. By the force of circumstance, Mr. -Trueman and I were thrown much together. From his lofty conversation and -noble principles, I gained great advantage. I loved to listen to his -candid avowal of free, democratic principles. How bravely he set aside -conventionality and empty forms; he was a searcher after the soul of -things! He was the very essence of honor, always ready to sacrifice -himself for others, and daily and hourly crucified his heart! - -"Chance threw us much together, as I have said. You may infer what -ensued. Two persons so similar in nature, so united in purpose (though -he was vastly my superior), could not associate much and long together -without a feeling of love springing up! Our case did not differ from -that of others. _We loved._ Not as the careless or ordinary love; but -with a fervor, a depth of passion, and a concentration of soul, which -nothing in life could destroy. - -"My sister was the chosen bride of William Worth. This fact was known to -all the household. Justinian and I read in each other's manner the -secret of the heart. - -"At length, in one brief hour, he told me his story; he was the only -child of a widowed mother, who had spent her all upon his education. -Whilst he was away, her wants had been tenderly ministered to by a very -lovely young girl of wealth and social position. Upon her death-bed his -mother besought him to marry this lady. He was then inflamed with -gratitude, and, being free in heart, he mistook the nature of his -feelings. Whilst in this state of mind, he offered himself to her and -was instantly accepted. Afterwards when we met he understood how he had -been beguiled! - -"He wrote to his betrothed, told her the state of his feelings, that he -loved another; but declared his willingness to redeem his promise, and -stand by his engagement if she wished. - -"How anxiously we both awaited her reply! It came promptly, and she -desired, nay demanded, the fulfilment of the engagement; even reminded -him of his promise to his mother, and of the obligation he was under to -herself. - -"No tongue can describe the agony that we both endured; yet principle -must be obeyed. We parted. They were married. Twice afterwards I saw -him. He was actively engaged in his profession; but the pale cheek and -earnest look told me that he still thought lovingly of me! My sister -married William Worth, and resided in Boston; but her husband died early -in life, leaving his only child Robert to the care of Mr. Trueman. After -my mother's death, possessing myself of my patrimony, I removed west, to -this city, where my brother lived. I had been separated from him for a -number of years, and was surprised to find how entirely a Southern -residence had changed him. Owing to some little domestic difficulties, I -declined remaining in his family. - -"Last winter, when Justinian Trueman was here, I was out of the city; -and it was well that I was, for I could not have met him again. Old -feelings, that should be cradled to rest, would have been aroused! My -brother saw him, and told me that he looked well. - -"Now, is it not strange that you should have been an object of such -especial interest to both of us? It seems as though you were a centre -around which we were once more re-united. I have written him a long -letter, which I wish you to deliver upon your arrival in Boston." Here -she drew from the portfolio that was lying on the bed beside her, a -sealed letter, directed to Justinian Trueman, Boston, Mass. - -I was weeping violently when I took it from her. - -She lingered thus for several weeks, and on a calm Sabbath morning, as I -was reading to her from the Bible, she said to me-- - -"Ann, I am sleepy; my eyelids are closing; turn me over." - -As I attempted to do it she pressed my hand tightly, straightened her -body out, and the last struggle was over! I was alone with her. Laying -her gently upon the pillow, I for the first time in my life pressed my -lips to that cold, marble brow. I felt that she, holy saint, would not -object to it, were she able to speak. I then called Biddy in to assist -me. She was loud in her lamentation. - -"She bade us not weep for her, Biddy. She is happier now;" but, though I -spoke this in a composed tone, my heart was all astir with emotion. - -Soon her brother came in, bringing with him a minister. He received the -mournful intelligence with subdued grief. - -We robed her for Death's bridal, e'en as she had requested, in white -silk, flannel, and white gloves. Her coffin was plain mahogony, with a -plate upon the top, upon which were engraved her name, age, and -birth-place. - -A funeral sermon was preached, by a minister who had been a strong -personal friend. In a retired portion of the public burial-ground we -made her last bed. A simple tombstone, as she directed, was placed over -the grave, her name, age, &c., inscribed thereon. - -Bridget and I slept in the same house that night. We could not be -persuaded to leave it, and there, in Miss Nancy's dear, familiar room, -we held, as usual, family devotion. I almost fancied that she stood in -the midst, and was gazing well-pleased upon us. - -That night I slept profoundly. My rest had been broken a great deal, and -now the knowledge that duty did not keep me awake, enabled me to sleep -well. - -On the next day Mr. Worth arrived, and was much distressed to find that -he was too late to see his aunt alive. - -Though he looked older and more serious than when I last saw him, I -readily recognized the same noble expression of face. He received me -very kindly, and thanked Biddy and me for our attentions to his beloved -aunt. He showed us a letter she had written, in which she spoke of us in -the kindest manner, and recommended us to his care. - -"Neither of you shall ever lack for friendship whilst I live," he said, -as he warmly shook us by the hands. - -He told me that he had ever retained a vivid recollection of my sad -face; and inquired about "young Master." When I told him that he was -dead, and gave an account of his life and sufferings, Mr. Worth -remarked-- - -"Ah, yes, he was one of heaven's angels, lent us only for a short -season." - -I accompanied him to his aunt's grave. - - * * * * * * - -Upon the reading of the will, it was discovered that Miss Nancy had -liberated me, and left me, as a legacy, four thousand dollars, with the -request that I would live somewhere in the North. To Biddy she had left -a bequest of three thousand dollars; the remainder of her fortune, after -making a donation to her brother, was left to her nephew, Robert Worth. - -The will was instantly carried into effect; as it met with no -opposition, and she owed no debts, matters were arranged satisfactorily; -and we prepared for departure. - -Louise had made all her arrangements to go with us. I was now a free -woman, in the possession of a comparative fortune; yet I was not happy. -Alas! I had out-lived all for which money and freedom were valuable, and -I cared not how the remainder of my days were spent. Why cannot the -means of happiness come to us when we have the capacity for enjoyment? - -On the evening before our departure, I called Louise to me and asked, - -"Where is Henry's grave?" It was the first time since that fatal day -that I had mentioned his name to her. - -"He is buried far away, in a plain, unmarked grave; but, even if it were -near, you should not go," she replied. - -"Tell me, who found him, after--after--after _the murder_?" - -"Mr. Graham and Atkins went in search of him, and I followed them; -though he had told me what he was going to do, Ann, I could not oppose -or even dissuade him." - -I wept freely; and, as is always the case, was relieved by it. - -"I am glad to see that you can weep. It will do you good," said Louise. - - - - -CHAPTER XLII - -CONCLUSION. - - -But little more remains to be told of my history. - -When Louise, Biddy and I, under the protection of Mr. Worth, sailed on a -pleasant steamer from the land of slavery, I could but thank my God that -I was leaving forever the State, beneath the sanction of whose laws the -vilest outrages and grossest inhumanities were committed! - -Our trip would, indeed, have been delightful, but that I was constantly -contrasting it in my own mind with what it might have been, had HE not -fallen a victim to the white man's cupidity. - -Often I stole away from the company, and, in the privacy of my own room, -gave vent to my pent-up grief. Biddy and Louise were in ecstacies with -everything that they saw. - -All along the route, after passing out of the Slave States, we met with -kind friends and genuine hospitality. The Northern people are noble, -generous, and philanthropic; and it affords me pleasure to record here a -tribute to their worth and kindness. - -In New York we met with the best of friends. Everywhere I saw smiling, -black faces; a sight rarely beheld in the cities and villages of the -South. I saw men and women of the despised race, who walked with erect -heads and respectable carriage, as though they realized that they were -men and women, not mere chattels. - -When we reached Boston I was made to feel this in a particular manner. -There I met full-blooded Africans, finely educated, in the possession of -princely talents, occupying good positions, wielding a powerful -political influence, and illustrating, in their lives, the oft-disputed -fact, that the African intellect is equal to the Caucasian. Soon after -my arrival in Boston I found out, from Mr. Worth, the residence of Mr. -Trueman, and called to see him. - -I was politely ushered by an Irish waiter into the study, where I found -Mr. Trueman engaged with a book. At first he did not recognize me; but I -soon made myself known, and received from him a most hearty welcome. - -I related all the incidents in my life that had occurred since I had -seen him last. He entered fully into my feelings, and I saw the tear -glisten in his calm eyes when I spoke of poor Henry's awful fate. - -I told him of Miss Nancy's kindness, and the tears rolled down his -cheeks. I did not speak of what she had told me in relation to their -engagement; I merely stated that she had referred to him as a particular -personal friend, and when I gave him the letter he received it with a -tremulous hand, uttered a fearful groan, and buried his face among the -papers that lay scattered over his table. Without a spoken good-bye, I -withdrew. - -I saw him often after this; and from him received the most signal acts -of kindness. He thanked me many times for what he termed my fidelity to -his sainted friend. He never spoke of her without a quiver of the lip, -and I honored him for his constancy. - -He strongly urged me to take up my residence in Boston; but I remembered -that Henry's preference had always been for a New England village; and I -loved to think that I was following out his views, and so I removed to a -quiet puritanical little town in Massachusetts. - -And here I now am engaged in teaching a small school of African -children; happy in the discharge of so sacred a duty. 'Tis surprising to -see how rapidly they learn. I am interested, and so are they, in the -work: and thus what with some teachers is an irksome task, is to me a -pleasing duty. - -I should state for the benefit of the curious, that Biddy is living in -Boston, happily married to "a countryman," and is the proud mother of -several blooming children. She comes to visit me sometimes, during the -heat of summer, and is always a welcome guest. - -Louise, too, has consented to wear matrimony's easy yoke. She lives in -the same village with me. Our social and friendly relations still -continue. I have frequently, when visiting Boston, met Miss Bradly. She, -like me, has never married. She has grown to be a firmer and more -earnest woman than she was in Kentucky. I must not omit to mention the -fact, that when travelling through Canada, I by the rarest chance met -Ben--Amy's treasure--now grown to be a fine-looking youth. - -He had a melancholy story--a life, like every other slave's, full of -trouble--but at length, by the sharpest ingenuity, he had made his -escape, and reached, after many difficulties, the golden shores of -Canada! - -Now my history has been given--a round, unvarnished tale it is; and -thus, without ornament, I send it forth to the world. I have spoken -freely; at times, I grant, with a touch of bitterness, but never without -truth; and I ask the wise, the considerate, the earnest, if I have not -had cause for bitterness. Who can carp at me? That there are some fiery -Southerners who will assail me, I doubt not; but I feel satisfied that I -have discharged a duty that I solemnly owed to my oppressed and -down-trodden nation. I am calm and self-possessed; I have passed firmly -through the severest ordeal of persecution, and have been spared the -death that has befallen many others. Surely I was saved for some wise -purpose, and I fear nought from those who are fanatically wedded to -wrong and inhumanity. Let them assail me as they will, I shall still -feel that - - - "Thrice is he armed who has his quarrel just, - And he but naked, though wrapped up in steel, - Whose bosom with injustice is polluted." - - -But there are others, some even in slave States, kind, noble, thoughtful -persons, earnest seekers after the highest good in life and nature; to -them I consign my little book, sincerely begging, that through my weak -appeal, my poor suffering brothers and sisters, who yet wear the galling -yoke of American slavery, may be granted a hearing. - -From the distant rice-fields and sugar plantations of the fervid South, -comes a frantic wail from the wronged, injured, and oh, how innocent -African! Hear it; hear that cry, Christians of the North, let it ring in -your ears with its fearful agony! Hearken to it, ye who feast upon the -products of African labor! Let it stay you in the use of those -commodities for which their life-blood, aye more, their soul's life, is -drained out drop by drop! Talk no more, ye faint-hearted politicians, of -"expediency." God will not hear your lame excuse in that grand and awful -day, when He shall come in pomp and power to judge the quick and dead. - -And so, my history, go forth and do thy mission! knock at the doors of -the lordly and wealthy: there, by the shaded light of rosy lamps, tell -your story. Creep in at the broken crevice of the poor man's cabin, and -there make your complaint. Into the ear of the brave, energetic -mechanic, sound the burden of your grief. To the strong-hearted -blacksmith, sweating over his furnace, make yourself heard; and ask -them, one and all, shall this unjust institution of slavery be -perpetuated? Shall it dare to desecrate, with its vile presence, the new -territories that are now emphatically free? Shall Nebraska and Kansas -join in a blood-spilling coalition with the South? - -Answer proudly, loudly, brave men; and answer, _No, No!_ My work is -done. - - - - -REDFIELD'S PUBLICATIONS.--POETRY AND THE DRAMA. - - -POETRY AND THE DRAMA. - -The Works of Shakespeare, reprinted from the newly-discovered copy of -the Folio of 1632, in the possession of J. PAYNE COLLIER, with numerous -Illustrations. One vol. Imperial 8vo. Cloth, $4; sheep, $4 25; half -morocco, plain, $5 00; marble edges, $5 50; half calf, or morocco extra, -$6 00; full morocco, antique, $7 00. - -Same as above, cheap edition, cloth, $3 00; sheep, $3 50; imitation -morocco, full gilt, $4 00. - -The Works of Shakespeare, same as above. Uniform in size with the -celebrated Chiswick Edition, 8 vols. 16mo, cloth, $6 00; half calf or -morocco, plain, $10 00; half calf or morocco, extra, $12 00. - -Notes and Emendations of Shakespeare. Notes and Emendations to the Text -of Shakespeare's Plays, from the Early Manuscript Corrections in a copy -of the folio of 1632, in the possession of JOHN PAYNE COLLIER, F. S. A. -Third edition, with a fac-simile of the Manuscript Corrections. 1 vol., -12mo., cloth. Price $1 50. - -Lilian, and other Poems. By WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED. Now first -collected. 1 vol., 12mo. Price $1 00. - -Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers. By WILLIAM E. AYTOUN, Professor of -Literature and Belles-Lettres in the University of Edinburgh, and Editor -of Blackwood's Magazine. 1 vol., 12mo, cloth. Price $1 00. - -Firmilian; a Spasmodic Tragedy. By T. PERCY JONES [W. E. Aytoun]. Price -50 cents. - -The Book of Ballads. By BON GAULTIER. 1 vol. 12mo, cloth. Price 75 -cents. - -Poetical Works of Fitz-Greene Halleck. New and only Complete Edition, -containing several New Poems, together with many now first collected. 1 -vol., 12mo. Price $1 00. - -Simms' Poetical Works. Poems: Descriptive, Dramatic, Legendary, and -Contemplative. By WM. GILMORE SIMMS. With a Portrait on steel. 2 vols., -12mo, cloth. Price $2 50. - -Lyra, and other Poems. By ALICE CAREY. 1 vol., 12mo, cloth. Price 75 -cents. - -The Poetical Works of W. H. C. Hosmer. Now first collected. With a -Portrait on steel. 2 vols., 12mo. Price $2 00. - -Scottish Songs, Ballads, and Poems. By HEW AINSLIE, author of "The -Ingleside," "On with the Tartan," "Rover of Loch-Ryan," &c., &c. 1 vol., -12mo. Price $1 00. - -The Poets and Poetry of Ireland. 1 vol., 8vo, with Plates. Edited by Dr. -R. SHELTON MACKENZIE. [In Press.] - -Oliatta, and other Poems. By HOWARD H. CALDWELL. 12mo, cloth Price $1 -00. - - -HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY - -Ancient Egypt under the Pharaohs. By JOHN KENRICK, M.A. In 2 vols., -12mo. Price $2 50. - -Newman's Regal Rome. An Introduction to Roman History. By FRANCIS W. -NEWMAN, Professor of Latin in the University College, London. 12mo, -cloth. Price 63 cents. - -The Catacombs of Rome, as Illustrating the Church of the First Three -Centuries. By the Right Rev. W. INGRAHAM KIP, D.D., Missionary Bishop of -California. Author of "Christmas Holidays in Rome," "Early Conflicts of -Christianity," &c., &c. With over 100 Illustrations. 12mo, cloth. Price -75 cents. - -The History of the Crusades. By JOSEPH FRANÇOIS MICHAUD. Translated by -W. Robson. 3 vols., 12mo, Maps. Price $3 75. - -Napoleon in Exile; or, a Voice from St. Helena. Being the Opinions and -Reflections of Napoleon, on the most important Events in his Life and -Government, in his own words. By BARRY E. O'MEARA, his late Surgeon; -with a Portrait of Napoleon, after the celebrated picture of Delaroche, -and a view of St. Helena, both beautifully engraved on steel. 2 vols., -12mo, cloth. Price $2 00. - -Jomini's Campaign of Waterloo. The Political and Military History of the -Campaign of Waterloo, from the French of General Baron Jomini. By Lieut. -S. V. BENET, U. S. Ordnance, with a Map. 12mo, cloth. Price 75 cents. - -Napier's Peninsular War. History of the War in the Peninsula, and in the -South of France, from the Year 1807 to 1814. By W. F. P. NAPIER, C. B., -Colonel 43d Regiment, &c. Complete in 1 vol., 8vo. Price $2 50. - -Napier's Peninsular War. History of the War in the Peninsula, and in the -South of France, from the Year 1807 to 1814. By W. F. P. NAPIER, C. B., -Colonel 43d Regiment, &c. In 5 vols., 12mo, with Portraits and Plans. -Price $6 25. [In Press.] - -Discovery and Exploration of the Mississippi Valley. With the Original -Narratives of Marquette, Allouez, Membré, Hennepin, and Anastase Douay. -By JOHN GILMARY SHEA. With a fac-simile of the Original Map of -Marquette. 1 vol., 8vo, cloth, antique. Price $2. - -Narrative of a Voyage to the Northwest Coast of America, in the Years -1811-'12-'13 and 1814; or, the First Settlement on the Pacific. By -GABRIEL FRANCHÈRE. Translated and Edited by J. V. HUNTINGTON. 12mo, -cloth. Plates. Price $1 00. - -Las Cases' Napoleon. Memoirs of the Life, Exile, and Conversations of -the Emperor Napoleon. By the Count LAS CASES. With Portraits on steel, -woodcuts, &c. 4 vols., 12mo, cloth, $4 00, half calf or morocco extra, -$8 00. - -Life of the Rt. Hon. John Philpot Curran. By his Son, Wm. Henry Curran; -with Notes and Additions, by Dr. R. SHELTON MACKENZIE, and a Portrait on -Steel. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -Sketches of the Irish Bar. By the Right Hon. Richard Lalor Sheil, M. P. -Edited, with a Memoir and Notes, by Dr. R. SHELTON MACKENZIE. Fourth -Edition. In 2 vols. Price $2 00. - -Barrington's Sketches. Personal Sketches of his Own Time. By SIR JONAH -BARRINGTON, Judge of the High Court of Admiralty in Ireland; with -Illustrations by Darley. Third Edition. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -Moore's Life of Sheridan. Memoirs of the Life of the Rt. Hon. Richard -Brinsley Sheridan. By THOMAS MOORE; with Portrait after Sir Joshua -Reynolds. 2 vols., 12mo, cloth. Price $2 00. - -Men of the Time, or Sketches of Living Notables, Authors, Architects, -Artists, Composers, Demagogues, Divines, Dramatists, Engineers, -Journalists, Ministers, Monarchs, Novelists, Politicians, Poets, -Philanthropists, Preachers, Savans, Statesmen, Travellers, Voyagers, -Warriors. 1 vol., 12mo. Containing nearly Nine Hundred Biographical -Sketches. Price $1 50. - -Lorenzo Benoni; or, Passages in the Life of an Italian. Edited by a -Friend. 1 vol., 12mo. $1 00. - -The Workingman's Way in the World. Being the Autobiography of a -Journeyman Printer. By CHARLES MANBY SMITH, Author of "Curiosities of -London life." 12mo, cloth. Price $1 00. - -Classic and Historic Portraits. By JAMES BRUCE. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 -00. - -Ladies of the Covenant. Memoirs of Distinguished Scottish Females, -embracing the Period of the Covenant and the Persecution. By Rev. JAMES -ANDERSON. 1 vol., 12mo. Price $1 25. - -Tom Moore's Suppressed Letters. Notes from the Letters of Thomas Moore -to his Music-Publisher, James Power (the publication of which was -suppressed in London), with an Introductory Letter from Thomas Crofton -Croker, Esq., F. S. A. With four Engravings on steel. 12mo, cloth. Price -$1 50. - -Fifty Years in Both Hemispheres; or, Reminiscences of a Merchant's Life. -By VINCENT NOLTE. 12mo. Price $1 25. (Eighth Edition.) - -Men and Women of the Eighteenth Century. By ARSENE HOUSSAYE. With -beautifully-engraved Portraits of Louis XV. and Madame de Pompadour. 2 -vols., 12mo, 450 pages each, extra super-fine paper. Price $2 50. - -Philosophers and Actresses. By ARSENE HOUSSAYE. With -beautifully-engraved Portraits of Voltaire and Madame Parabèra, 2 vols., -12mo. Price $2 50. - -Life of the Honorable William H. Seward, with Selections from his Works. -Edited by GEORGE E. BAKER. 12mo, cloth Portrait. Price $1 00. - -The History of Texas, from its Settlement in 1685 to its Annexation to -the United States. By H. YOAKUM, Esq., of the Texas Bar; with Portraits, -Maps, and Plans. 2 vols., 8vo, cloth or sheep. Price $5 00. [In Press.] - -The History of Louisiana--Spanish Domination. By CHARLES GAYARRE. 8vo, -cloth. Price $2 50. - -The History of Louisiana--French Domination. By CHARLES GAYARRE. 2 -vols., 8vo, cloth. Price $3 50. - -The Life of P. T. Barnum, written by himself; in which he narrates his -early history as Clerk, Merchant, and Editor, and his later career as a -Showman. With a Portrait on steel, and numerous Illustrations by Darley. -1 vol., 12mo. Price $1 25. - -A Memorial of Horatio Greenough, consisting of a Memoir, Selections from -his Writings, and Tributes to his Genius, by HENRY T. TUCKERMAN, Author -of "Sicily, a Pilgrimage," "A Month in England," &c., &c. 12mo, cloth. -Price 75 cents. - -Minnesota and its Resources; to which are appended Camp-Fire Sketches, -or Notes of a Trip from St. Paul to Pembina and Selkirk Settlements on -the Red River of the North. By J. WESLEY BOND. With a New Map of the -Territory, a View of St. Paul, and one of the Falls of St. Anthony. 1 -vol., 12mo, cloth. Price $1 00. - -The Private Life of an Eastern King. By a Member of the Household of his -Late Majesty, Nussir-u-deen, King of Oude. 12mo, cloth. Price 75 cents. - -Doran's Queens of England. The Queens of England, of the House of -Hanover. By Dr. DORAN, Author of "Table Traits," "Habits and Men," &c. 2 -vols., 12mo, cloth. Price $2 00 - - -BELLES-LETTRES. - -+Revolutionary Tales+, by WM. GILMORE SIMMS, Esq. New and Revised -Editions, with Illustrations by Darley. - -The Partisan; A Romance of the Revolution. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -Mellichampe; A Legend of the Santee. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -Katharine Walton; or, The Rebel of Dorchester. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -The Scout; or, The Black Riders of the Congaree. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 -25. - -Woodcraft; or, The Hawks about the Dovecote. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -The Forayers; or, The Raid of the Dog-Days. A New Revolutionary Romance. -12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -Entaw. A New Revolutionary Romance. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - - -+Simms's Border Romances of the South+, New and Revised Editions, with -Illustrations by Darley. Uniform with SIMMS'S REVOLUTIONARY TALES. - -I. Guy Rivers. A Tale of Georgia. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -II. Richard Hurdis. A Tale of Alabama. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -III. Border Beagles. A Tale of Mississippi. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -IV. Charlemont. A Tale of Kentucky. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -V. Beauchampe; or, The Kentucky Tragedy. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -VI. Confession; or, The Blind Heart. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - - -The Yemassee; A Romance of South Carolina. By WM. GILMORE SIMMS, Esq. -12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -Southward, Ho! a Spell of Sunshine. By WM. GILMORE SIMMS, Esq. 12mo, -cloth. Price $1 25. - -The Noctes Ambrosianæ. By Professor WILSON, J. G. LOCKHART, JAMES HOGG, -and Dr. MAGINN. Edited, with Memoirs and Notes, by Dr. R. SHELTON -MACKENZIE. In 5 volumes. Price $5 00. - -The Odoherty Papers; forming the first portion of the Miscellaneous -Writings of the late Dr. MAGINN. With an Original Memoir, and copious -Notes, by Dr. R. SHELTON MACKENZIE. 2 vols. Price $2 00. - -The Shakespeare Papers, and the Homeric Ballads; forming Vol. III. of -the Miscellaneous Writings of the late Dr. MAGINN. Edited by Dr. R. -SHELTON MACKENZIE. [In Press.] - -Bits of Blarney. By Dr. R. SHELTON MACKENZIE, Editor of "Sheil's -Sketches of the Irish Bar," "Noctes Ambrosianæ," &c. 12mo, cloth. Price -$1 00. - -Table Traits. By Dr. DORAN, Author of "Habits and Men," &c. 12mo, cloth. -$1 25. - -Habits and Men. By Dr. DORAN, Author of "Table Traits," "The Queens of -England under the House of Hanover." 12mo, Price $1 00. - -Calavar; The Knight of the Conquest. A Romance of Mexico. By the late -Dr. ROBERT MONTGOMERY BIRD, Author of "Nick of the Woods;" with -Illustrations by Darley. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -Nick of the Woods, or the Jibbenainosay. A Tale of Kentucky. By the late -Dr. ROBERT MONTGOMERY BIRD, Author of "Calavar," "The Infidel," &c. New -and Revised Edition, with Illustrations by Darley. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 -25. - -The Pretty Plate; A New and Beautiful Juvenile. By JOHN VINCENT. -Illustrated by Darley. 1 vol., 16mo, cloth, gilt. Price 50 cents; extra -gilt edges, 75 cents. - -Vasconselos. A Romance of the New World. By FRANK COOPER. 12mo, cloth. -Price $1 25. - -A Stray Yankee in Texas. By PHILIP PAXTON. With Illustrations by Darley. -Second Edition. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -The Wonderful Adventures of Capt. Priest. By PHILIP PAXTON. With -Illustrations by Darley. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 00. - -Western Characters; being Types of Border Life in the Western States. By -J. L. M'CONNEL, Author of "Talbot and Vernon," "The Glenns," &c., &c. -With Six Illustrations by Darley. 12mo, cloth. Price $1 25. - -The Master-Builder; or, Life at a Trade. By DAY KELLOGG LEE. 1 vol., -12mo. Price $1 00. - -Merrimack; or, Life at the Loom. By DAY KELLOGG LEE. 1 vol., 12mo. Price -$1 00. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Autobiography of a Female Slave, by -Martha Griffith Browne - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A FEMALE SLAVE *** - -***** This file should be named 55813-8.txt or 55813-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/8/1/55813/ - -Produced by MFR, Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - diff --git a/old/old/55813-8.zip b/old/old/55813-8.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 6e97a0d..0000000 --- a/old/old/55813-8.zip +++ /dev/null |
