Clotel; or, The President's Daughter
by
William Wells Brown
Part 2 out of 3
to dwell on all the face of the earth. To claim, hold, and treat a
human being as property is felony against God and man. The
Christian religion is opposed to slaveholding in its spirit and
its principles; it classes menstealers among murderers; and it is
the duty of all who wish to meet God in peace, to discharge that
duty in spreading these principles. Let us not deceive ourselves
into the idea that slavery is right, because it is profitable to
us. Slaveholding is the highest possible violation of
the eighth commandment. To take from a man his earnings, is theft;
but to take the earner is a compound, life-long theft; and we who
profess to follow in the footsteps of our Redeemer, should do our
utmost to extirpate slavery from the land. For my own part, I
shall do all I can. When the Redeemer was about to ascend to the
bosom of the Father, and resume the glory which he had with him
before the world was, he promised his disciples that the power of
the Holy Ghost should come upon them, and that they should be
witnesses for him to the uttermost parts of the earth. What was
the effect upon their minds? 'They all continued with one accord
in prayer and supplication with the women.' Stimulated by the
confident expectation that Jesus would fulfil his gracious
promise, they poured out their hearts in fervent supplications,
probably for strength to do the work which he had appointed them
unto, for they felt that without him they could do nothing, and
they consecrated themselves on the altar of God, to the great and
glorious enterprise of preaching the unsearchable riches of
Christ to a lost and perishing world. Have we less precious
promises in the Scriptures of truth? May we not claim of our God
the blessing promised unto those who consider the poor: the Lord
will preserve them and keep them alive, and they shall be blessed
upon the earth? Does not the language, 'Inasmuch as ye did it unto
one of the least of these my brethren, ye did it unto me,'
belong to all who are rightly engaged in endeavouring to
unloose the bondman's fetters? Shall we not then do as the
apostles did? Shall we not, in view of the two millions of
heathen in our very midst, in view of the souls that are going
down in an almost unbroken phalanx to utter perdition, continue
in prayer and supplication, that God will grant us the
supplies of his Spirit to prepare us for that work which he has
given us to do? Shall not the wail of the mother as she
surrenders her only child to the grasp of the ruthless kidnapper,
or the trader in human blood, animate our devotions? Shall not the
manifold crimes and horrors of slavery excite more ardent
outpourings at the throne of grace to grant repentance to our
guilty country, and permit us to aid in preparing the way for the
glorious second advent of the Messiah, by preaching deliverance
to the captives, and the opening of the prison doors to those who
are bound?"
Georgiana had succeeded in riveting the attention of Carlton
during her conversation, and as she was finishing her last
sentence, she observed the silent tear stealing down the cheek of
the newly born child of God. At this juncture her father entered,
and Carlton left the room. "Dear papa," said Georgiana, "will you
grant me one favour; or, rather, make me a promise?" "I can't
tell, my dear, till I know what it is," replied Mr. Peck. "If it
is a reasonable request, I will comply with your wish," continued
he. "I hope, my dear," answered she, "that papa would not think
me capable of making an unreasonable request." "Well, well,"
returned he; "tell me what it is." "I hope," said she, "that in
your future conversation with Mr. Carlton, on the subject of
slavery, you will not speak of the Bible as sustaining it." "Why,
Georgiana, my dear, you are mad, ain't you?" exclaimed he, in an
excited tone. The poor girl remained silent; the father saw in a
moment that he had spoken too sharply; and taking her hand in his
he said, "Now, my child, why do you make that request?"
"Because," returned she, "I think he is on the stool of
repentance, if he has not already been received among the elect.
He, you know, was bordering upon infidelity, and if the
Bible sanctions slavery, then he will naturally enough say that
it is not from God; for the argument from internal evidence is
not only refuted, but actually turned against the Bible. If the
Bible sanctions slavery, then it misrepresents the character of
God. Nothing would be more dangerous to the soul of a young
convert than to satisfy him that the Scriptures favoured such a
system of sin." "Don't you suppose that I understand the
Scriptures better than you? I have been in the world longer."
"Yes," said she, "you have been in the world longer, and amongst
slaveholders so long that you do not regard it in the same light
that those do who have not become so familiar with its every-day
scenes as you. I once heard you say, that you were opposed to the
institution, when you first came to the South." "Yes," answered
he, "I did not know so much about it then." "With great deference
to you, papa," replied Georgiana, "I don't think that the Bible
sanctions slavery. The Old Testament contains this explicit
condemnation of it, 'He that stealeth a man, and selleth him, or
if he be found in his band, he shall surely be put to death'; and
'Woe unto him that buildeth his house by unrighteousness, and his
chambers by wrong; that useth his neighbour's service without
wages, and giveth him not for his work'; when also the New
Testament exhibits such words of rebuke as these, 'Behold the hire
of the labourers who have reaped down your fields, which is of
you kept back by fraud, crieth; and the cries of them who have
reaped are entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth.' 'The
law is not made for a righteous man, but for the lawless and
disobedient, for the ungodly and for sinners, for unholy and
profane, for murderers of fathers and murderers of mothers, for
manslayers, for whoremongers, for them that defile themselves
with mankind, for menstealers, for liars, for perjured
persons.' A more scathing denunciation of the sin in question is
surely to be found on record in no other book. I am afraid,"
continued the daughter, "that the acts of the professed friends of
Christianity in the South do more to spread infidelity than the
writings of all the atheists which have ever been published. The
infidel watches the religious world. He surveys the church, and,
lo! thousands and tens of thousands of her accredited members
actually hold slaves. Members 'in good and regular standing,'
fellowshipped throughout Christendom except by a few anti-slavery
churches generally despised as ultra and radical, reduce their
fellow men to the condition of chattels, and by force keep them in
that state of degradation. Bishops, ministers, elders, and
deacons are engaged in this awful business, and do not consider
their conduct as at all inconsistent with the precepts of either
the Old or New Testaments. Moreover, those ministers and churches
who do not themselves hold slaves, very generally defend the
conduct of those who do, and accord to them a fair Christian
character, and in the way of business frequently take mortgages
and levy executions on the bodies of their fellow men, and in
some cases of their fellow Christians. "Now is it a wonder that
infidels, beholding the practice and listening to the theory of
professing Christians, should conclude that the Bible inculcates
a morality not inconsistent with chattelising human beings? And
must not this conclusion be strengthened, when they hear ministers
of talent and learning declare that the Bible does sanction
slaveholding, and that it ought not to be made a disciplinable
offence in churches? And must not all doubt be dissipated, when
one of the most learned professors in our theological seminaries
asserts that the Bible recognises that the relation may still
exist, salva fide et salva ecclesia' (without injury to
the Christian faith or church) and that only 'the abuse of it is
the essential and fundamental wrong?' Are not infidels bound to
believe that these professors, ministers, and churches understand
their own Bible, and that, consequently, notwithstanding solitary
passages which appear to condemn slaveholding, the Bible
sanctions it? When nothing can be further from the truth. And as
for Christ, his whole life was a living testimony against slavery
and all that it inculcates. When he designed to do us good, he
took upon himself the form of a servant. He took his station at
the bottom of society. He voluntarily identified himself with the
poor and the despised. The warning voices of Jeremiah and Ezekiel
were raised in olden time, against sin. Let us not forget what
followed. 'Therefore, thus saith the Lord--ye have not harkened
unto me in proclaiming liberty every one to his brother, and
every one to his neighbour--behold I proclaim a liberty for you,
saith the Lord, to the sword, to the pestilence, and to the
famine.' Are we not virtually as a nation adopting the same
impious language, and are we not exposed to the same tremendous
judgments? Shall we not, in view of those things, use every
laudable means to awaken our beloved country from the slumbers of
death, and baptize all our efforts with tears and with prayers,
that God may bless them? Then, should our labour fail to
accomplish the end for which we pray, we shall stand acquitted at
the bar of Jehovah, and although we may share in the national
calamities which await unrepented sins, yet that blessed approval
will be ours--'Well done, good and faithful servants, enter ye into
the joy of your Lord.'"
"My dear Georgiana," said Mr. Peck, "I must be permitted to
entertain my own views on this subject, and to exercise my own
judgment."
"Believe me, dear papa," she replied, "I would not be understood
as wishing to teach you, or to dictate to you in the least; but
only grant my request, not to allude to the Bible as sanctioning
slavery, when speaking with Mr. Carlton."
"Well," returned he, "I will comply with your wish."
The young Christian had indeed accomplished a noble work; and
whether it was admitted by the father, or not, she was his
superior and his teacher. Georgiana had viewed the right to enjoy
perfect liberty as one of those inherent and inalienable rights
which pertain to the whole human race, and of which they can
never be divested, except by an act of gross injustice. And no
one was more able than herself to impress those views upon the
hearts of all with whom she came in contact. Modest and
self-possessed, with a voice of great sweetness, and a most
winning manner, she could, with the greatest ease to herself,
engage their attention.
CHAPTER XI
THE PARSON POET
"Unbind, unbind my galling chain,
And set, oh! set me free:
No longer say that I'll disdain
The gift of liberty."
THROUGH the persuasion of Mr. Peck, and fascinated with the
charms of Georgiana, Carlton had prolonged his stay two months
with his old school-fellow. During the latter part of the time he
had been almost as one of the family. If Miss Peck was invited
out, Mr. Carlton was, as a matter of course. She seldom rode
out, unless with him. If Mr. Peck was absent, he took the head of
the table; and, to the delight of the young lady, he had on
several occasions taken part in the family worship. "I am glad,"
said Mr. Peck, one evening while at the tea table, "I am glad,
Mr. Carlton, that my neighbour Jones has invited you to visit him
at his farm. He is a good neighbour, but a very ungodly man; I
want that you should see his people, and then, when you return to
the North, you can tell how much better a Christian's slaves are
situated than one who does nothing for the cause of Christ." "I
hope, Mr. Carlton," said Georgiana, "that you will spend the
Sabbath with him, and have a religious interview with the
Negroes." "Yes," replied the parson, "that's well thought of,
Georgy." "Well, I think I will go up on Thursday next, and stay
till Monday," said Carlton; "and I shall act upon your
suggestion, Miss Peck," continued he; "and try to get a
religious interview with the blacks. By-the-by," remarked
Carlton, "I saw an advertisement in the Free Trader to-day that
rather puzzled me. Ah, here it is now; and, drawing the paper
from his pocket, "I will read it, and then you can tell me what
it means:
'To PLANTERS AND OTHERS.--Wanted fifty Negroes. Any person having
sick Negroes, considered incurable by their respective
physicians, (their owners of course,) and wishing to dispose of
them, Dr. Stillman will pay cash for Negroes affected with
scrofula or king's evil, confirmed hypochondriacism, apoplexy, or
diseases of the brain, kidneys, spleen, stomach and intestines,
bladder and its appendages, diarrhoea, dysentery, &c. The highest
cash price will be paid as above.'
When I read this to-day I thought that the advertiser must be a
man of eminent skill as a physician, and that he intended to cure
the sick Negroes; but on second thought I find that some of the
diseases enumerated are certainly incurable. What can he do with
these sick Negroes?" "You see," replied Mr. Peck, laughing, "that
he is a doctor, and has use for them in his lectures. The doctor
is connected with a small college. Look at his prospectus, where
he invites students to attend, and that will explain the matter
to you." Carlton turned to another column, and read the
following:
"Some advantages of a peculiar character are connected with this
institution, which it may be proper to point out. No place in the
United States offers as great opportunities for the acquisition
of anatomical knowledge. Subjects being obtained from among the
coloured population in sufficient numbers for every purpose, and
proper dissections carried on without offending any individuals in
the community!"
"These are for dissection, then?" inquired Carlton with a
trembling voice. "Yes," answered the parson. "Of course they wait
till they die before they can use them." "They keep them on
hand, and when they need one they bleed him to death," returned
Mr. Peck. "Yes, but that's murder." "Oh, the doctors are licensed
to commit murder, you know; and what's the difference, whether
one dies owing to the loss of blood, or taking too many pills?
For my own part, if I had to choose, I would rather submit to the
former." "I have often heard what I considered hard stories in
abolition meetings in New York about slavery; but now I shall
begin to think that many of them are true." "The longer you
remain here the more you will be convinced of the iniquity of the
institution," remarked Georgiana. "Now, Georgy, my dear, don't
give us another abolition lecture, if you please," said Mr. Peck.
"Here, Carlton," continued the parson, "I have written a short
poem for your sister's album, as you requested me; it is a
domestic piece, as you will see." "She will prize it the more for
that," remarked Carlton; and taking the sheet of paper, he
laughed as his eyes glanced over it. "Read it out, Mr. Carlton,"
said Georgiana, "and let me hear what it is; I know papa gets off
some very droll things at times." Carlton complied with the young
lady's request, and read aloud the following rare specimen of
poetical genius:
"MY LITTLE NIG.
"I have a little nigger, the blackest thing alive,
He'll be just four years old if he lives till forty-five;
His smooth cheek hath a glossy hue, like a new polished boot,
And his hair curls o'er his little head as black as any soot.
His lips bulge from his countenance--his little ivories shine--
His nose is what we call a little pug, but fashioned very fine:
Although not quite a fairy, he is comely to behold,
And I wouldn't sell him, 'pon my word, for a hundred all in gold.
"He gets up early in the morn, like all the other nigs,
And runs off to the hog-lot, where he squabbles with the pigs--
And when the sun gets out of bed, and mounts up in the sky,
The warmest corner of the yard is where my nig doth lie.
And there extended lazily, he contemplates and dreams,
(I cannot qualify to this, but plain enough it seems;)
Until 'tis time to take in grub, when you can't find him there,
For, like a politician, he has gone to hunt his share.
"I haven't said a single word concerning my plantation,
Though a prettier, I guess, cannot be found within the nation;
When he gets a little bigger, I'll take and to him show it,
And then I'll say, 'My little nig, now just prepare to go it!'
I'll put a hoe into his hand--he'll soon know what it means,
And every day for dinner, he shall have bacon and greens."
CHAPTER XII
A NIGHT IN THE PARSON'S KITCHEN
"And see the servants met,
Their daily labour's o'er;
And with the jest and song they set
The kitchen in a roar."
MR. PECK kept around him four servants besides Currer, of whom we
have made mention: of these, Sam was considered the first. If a
dinner-party was in contemplation, or any company to be invited
to the parson's, after all the arrangements had been talked over
by the minister and his daughter, Sam was sure to be consulted
upon the subject by "Miss Georgy," as Miss Peck was called by the
servants. If furniture, crockery, or anything else was to be
purchased, Sam felt that he had been slighted if his opinion had
not been asked. As to the marketing, he did it all. At the
servants' table in the kitchen, he sat at the head, and was
master of ceremonies. A single look from him was enough to
silence any conversation or noise in the kitchen, or any other
part of the premises. There is, in the Southern States, a great
amount of prejudice against colour amongst the Negroes
themselves. The nearer the Negro or mulatto approaches to the
white, the more he seems to feel his superiority over those of a
darker hue. This is, no doubt, the result of the prejudice that
exists on the part of the whites towards both mulattoes and
blacks. Sam was originally from Kentucky, and through the
instrumentality of one of his young masters whom he had to take
to school, he had learned to read so as to be well understood;
and, owing to that fact, was considered a prodigy among the
slaves, not only of his own master's, but those of the town who
knew him. Sam had a great wish to follow in the footsteps of his
master, and be a poet; and was, therefore, often heard singing
doggerels of his own composition. But there was one great drawback
to Sam, and that was his colour. He was one of the blackest of
his race. This he evidently regarded as a great misfortune.
However, he made up for this in his dress. Mr. Peck kept his
house servants well dressed; and as for Sam, he was seldom seen
except in a ruffled shirt. Indeed, the washerwoman feared him
more than all others about the house.
Currer, as we have already stated, was chief of the kitchen
department, and had a general supervision of the household
affairs. Alfred the coachman, Peter, and Hetty made up the
remainder of the house servants. Besides these, Mr. Peck owned
eight slaves who were masons. These worked in the city. Being
mechanics, they were let out to greater advantage than to keep
them on the farm. However, every Sunday night, Peck's servants,
including the bricklayers, usually assembled in the kitchen, when
the events of the week were freely discussed and commented on.
It was on a Sunday evening, in the month of June, that there was
a party at Mr. Peck's, and, according to custom in the Southern
States, the ladies had their maid-servants with them. Tea had
been served in "the house," and the servants, including the
strangers, had taken their seats at the tea table in the kitchen.
Sam, being a "single gentleman," was usually attentive to the
"ladies" on this occasion. He seldom or ever let the day pass
without spending at least an hour in combing and brushing up his
"hair." Sam had an idea that fresh butter was better for his hair
than any other kind of grease; and therefore, on churning days,
half a pound of butter had always to be taken out before it was
salted. When he wished to appear to great advantage, he would
grease his face, to make it "shiny." On the evening of the party
therefore, when all the servants were at the table, Sam cut a
big figure. There he sat with his wool well combed and buttered,
face nicely greased, and his ruffles extending five or six inches
from his breast. The parson in his own drawing-room did not make
a more imposing appearance than did his servant on this occasion.
"I jist bin had my fortune told last Sunday night," said Sam, as
he helped one of the girls to some sweet hash. "Indeed," cried
half-a-dozen voices. "Yes," continued he; "Aunt Winny teld me I
is to hab de prettiest yaller gal in town, and dat I is to be
free." All eyes were immediately turned toward Sally Johnson, who
was seated near Sarn. "I speck I see somebody blush at dat
remark," said Alfred. "Pass dem pancakes and molasses up dis way,
Mr. Alf, and none of your insinawaysion here," rejoined Sam. "Dat
reminds me," said Currer, "dat Doreas Simpson is gwine to git
married." "Who to, I want to know?" inquired Peter. "To one of
Mr. Darby's field-hands," answered Currer. "I should tink dat dat
gal would not trow hersef away in dat manner," said Sally. "She
good enough looking to get a house servant, and not to put up wid
a fiel' nigger," continued she. "Yes," said Sam, "dat's a wery
insensible remark of yours, Miss Sally. I admire your judgment
wery much, I assure you. Dah's plenty of suspectible and
well-dressed house servants dat a gal of her looks can get, wid
out taken up wid dem common darkies." "Is de man black or a
mulatto?" inquired one of the company. "He's nearly white,"
replied Currer. "Well den, dat's some exchuse for her,"
remarked Sam; "for I don't like to see dis malgemation of blacks
and mulattoes." "No mulatto?" inquired one of the corn-how.
Continued Sam, "If I had my rights I would be a mulatto too, for
my mother was almost as light-coloured as Miss Sally," said he.
Although Sam was one of the blackest men living, he nevertheless
contended that his mother was a mulatto, and no one was more
prejudiced against the blacks than he. A good deal of work, and
the free use of fresh butter, had no doubt done wonders for his
"hare" in causing it to grow long, and to this he would always
appeal when he wished to convince others that he was part of an
Anglo-Saxon. "I always thought you was not clear black, Mr. Sam,"
said Agnes. "You are right dahr, Miss Agnes. My hare tells what
company I belong to," answered Sam. Here the whole company joined
in the conversation about colour, which lasted for some time,
giving unmistakeable evidence that caste is owing to ignorance.
The evening's entertainment concluded by Sam's relating a little
of his own experience while with his first master in old
Kentucky.
Sam's former master was a doctor, and had a large practice among
his neighbours, doctoring both masters and slaves. When Sam was
about fifteen years of age, his old master set him to grinding up
the ointment, then to making pills. As the young student grew
older and became more practised in his profession, his services
were of more importance to the doctor. The physician having a
good business, and a large number of his patients being slaves,
the most of whom had to call on the doctor when ill, he put Sam
to bleeding, pulling teeth, and administering medicine to the
slaves. Sam soon acquired the name amongst the slaves of the
"Black Doctor." With this appellation he was delighted, and no
regular physician could possibly have put on more airs than did
the black doctor when his services were required. In bleeding, he
must have more bandages, and rub and smack the arm more than the
doctor would have thought of. We once saw Sam taking out a tooth
for one of his patients, and nothing appeared more amusing. He
got the poor fellow down on his back, and he got astraddle of the
man's chest, and getting the turnkeys on the wrong tooth, he shut
both eyes and pulled for his life. The poor man screamed as loud
as he could, but to no purpose. Sam had him fast. After a great
effort, out came the sound grinder, and the young doctor saw his
mistake; but consoled himself with the idea that as the wrong
tooth was out of the way, there was more room to get at the right
one. Bleeding and a dose of calomel was always considered
indispensable by the "Old Boss"; and, as a matter of course, Sam
followed in his footsteps.
On one occasion the old doctor was ill himself, so as to be unable
to attend to his patients. A slave, with pass in hand, called to
receive medical advice, and the master told Sam to examine him
and see what he wanted. This delighted him beyond measure, for
although he had been acting his part in the way of giving out
medicine as the master ordered it, he had never been called upon
by the latter to examine a patient, and this seemed to convince
him that, after all, he was no sham doctor. As might have been
expected, he cut a rare figure in his first examination, placing
himself directly opposite his patient, and folding his arms
across his breast, and looking very knowingly, he began, "What's
de matter wid you?" "I is sick." "Where is you sick?" "Here,"
replied the man, putting his hand upon his stomach. "Put out your
tongue," continued the doctor. The man ran out his tongue at full
length. "Let me feel your pulse," at the same time taking his
patient's hand in his, placing his fingers on his pulse, he said,
"Ah, your case is a bad one; if I don't do something for you, and
dat pretty quick, you'll be a gone coon, and dat's sartin." At
this the man appeared frightened, and inquired what was the matter
with him: in answer, Sam said, "I done told you dat your case is
a bad one, and dat's enough." On Sam's returning to his master's
bedside, the latter said, "Well, Sam, what do you think is the
matter with him?" "His stomach is out of order, sir," he replied.
"What do you think had best be done for him?" "I think I better
bleed him and give him a dose of calomel," returned Sam. So to
the latter's gratification the master let him have his own way.
We need not further say, that the recital of Sam's experience as a
physician gave him a high position amongst the servants that
evening, and made him a decided favourite with the ladies, one of
whom feigned illness, when the black doctor, to the delight of
all, and certainly to himself, gave medical advice. Thus ended
the evening amongst the servants in the parson's kitchen.
CHAPTER XIII
A SLAVE HUNTING PARSON
"'Tis too much prov'd--that with devotion's visage,
And pious action, we do sugar o'er the devil himself."
--Shakespeare.
"You will, no doubt, be well pleased with neighbour Jones," said
Mr. Peck, as Carlton stepped into the chaise to pay his promised
visit to the "ungodly man." "Don't forget to have a religious
interview with the Negroes, remarked Georgiana, as she gave the
last nod to her young convert. "I will do my best," returned
Carlton, as the vehicle left the door. As might have been
expected, Carlton met with a cordial reception at the hands of
the proprietor of the Grove Farm. The servants in the "Great
House" were well dressed, and appeared as if they did not want
for food. Jones knew that Carlton was from the North, and a
non-slaveholder, and therefore did everything in his power to
make a favourable impression on his mind. "My Negroes are well
clothed, well fed, and not over worked," said the slaveholder to
his visitor, after the latter had been with him nearly a week.
"As far as I can see your slaves appear to good advantage,"
replied Carlton. "But," continued he, "if it is a fair question,
do you have preaching among your slaves on Sunday, Mr. Jones?"
"No, no," returned he, "I think that's all nonsense; my Negroes
do their own preaching." "So you do permit them to have
meetings." "Yes, when they wish. There's some very intelligent
and clever chaps among them." "As to-morrow is the Sabbath,"
said Carlton, "if you have no objection, I will attend meeting
with them." "Most certainly you shall, if you will do the
preaching," returned the planter. Here the young man was about
to decline, but he remembered the parting words of Georgiana, and
he took courage and said, "Oh, I have no objection to give the
Negroes a short talk." It was then understood that Carlton was to
have a religious interview with the blacks the next day, and the
young man waited with a degree of impatience for the time.
In no part of the South are slaves in a more ignorant and degraded
state than in the cotton, sugar, and rice districts.
If they are permitted to cease labour on the Sabbath, the time is
spent in hunting, fishing, or lying beneath the shade of a tree,
resting for the morrow. Religious instruction is unknown in the
far South, except among such men as the Rev. C. C. Jones, John
Peck, and some others who regard religious instruction, such as
they impart to their slaves, as calculated to make them more
trustworthy and valuable as property. Jones, aware that his
slaves would make rather a bad show of intelligence if questioned
by Carlton, resolved to have them ready for him, and therefore
gave his driver orders with regard to their preparation.
Consequently, after the day's labour was over, Dogget, the
driver, assembled the Negroes together and said, "Now, boys and
gals, your master is coming down to the quarters to-morrow with
his visitor, who is going to give you a preach, and I want you
should understand what he says to you. Now many of you who came
of Old Virginia and Kentuck, know what preaching is, and others
who have been raised in these parts do not. Preaching is to tell
you that you are mighty wicked and bad at heart. This, I suppose,
you all know. But if the gentleman should ask you who
made you, tell him the Lord; if he ask if you wish to go to
heaven, tell him yes. Remember that you are all Christians, all
love the Lord, all want to go to heaven, all love your masters,
and all love me. Now, boys and gals, I want you to show
yourselves smart to-morrow: be on your p's and q's, and, Monday
morning, I will give you all a glass of whiskey bright and
early." Agreeable to arrangement the slaves were assembled
together on Sunday morning under the large trees near the great
house, and after going through another drilling from the driver,
Jones and Carlton made their appearance. "You see," said Jones to
the Negroes, as he approached them, you see here's a gentleman
that's come to talk to you about your souls, and I hope you 'ill
all pay that attention that you ought." Jones then seated himself
in one of the two chairs placed there for him and the stranger.
Carlton had already selected a chapter in the Bible to read to
them, which he did, after first prefacing it with some remarks of
his own. Not being accustomed to speak in public, he determined,
after reading the Bible, to make it more of a conversational
meeting than otherwise. He therefore began asking them questions.
"Do you feel that you are a Christian?" asked he of a
full-blooded Negro that sat near him. "Yes, sir," was the
response. "You feel, then, that you shall go to heaven." "Yes,
sir." "Of course you know who made you?" The man put his hand to
his head and began to scratch his wool; and, after a little
hesitation, answered, "De overseer told us last night who made
us, but indeed I forgot the gentmun's name." This reply was
almost too much for Carlton, and his gravity was not a little
moved. However, he bit his tongue, and turned to another man,
who appeared, from his looks, to be more intelligent. "Do you
serve the Lord?" asked he. "No, sir, I don't serve anybody but
Mr. Jones. I neber belong to anybody else." To hide his feelings
at this juncture, Carlton turned and walked to another part of
the grounds, to where the women were seated, and said to a
mulatto woman who had rather an anxious countenance, "Did you
ever hear of John the Baptist?" "Oh yes, marser, John de Baptist;
I know dat nigger bery well indeed; he libs in Old Kentuck, where
I come from." Carlton's gravity here gave way, and he looked at
the planter and laughed right out. The old woman knew a slave
near her old master's farm in Kentucky, and was ignorant enough
to suppose that he was the John the Baptist inquired about.
Carlton occupied the remainder of the time in reading Scripture
and talking to them. "My niggers ain't shown off very well
to-day," said Jones, as he and his visitor left the grounds.
"No," replied Carlton. "You did not get hold of the bright ones,"
continued the planter. "So it seems," remarked Carlton. The
planter evidently felt that his neighbour, Parson Peck, would
have a nut to crack over the account that Carlton would give of
the ignorance of the slaves, and said and did all in his power to
remove the bad impression already made; but to no purpose. The
report made by Carlton, on his return, amused the parson very
much. It appeared to him the best reason why professed Christians
like himself should be slave-holders. Not so with Georgiana. She
did not even smile when Carlton was telling his story, but seemed
sore at heart that such ignorance should prevail in their midst.
The question turned upon the heathen of other lands, and the
parson began to expatiate upon his own efforts in foreign
missions, when his daughter, with a child-like simplicity, said,
"Send Bibles to the heathen;
On every distant shore,
From light that's beaming o'er us,
Let streams increasing pour
But keep it from the millions
Down-trodden at our door.
"Send Bibles to the heathen,
Their famished spirits feed;
Oh! haste, and join your efforts,
The priceless gift to speed;
Then flog the trembling Negro
If he should learn to read."
"I saw a curiosity while at Mr. Jones's that I shall not forget
soon," said Carlton. "What was it?" inquired the parson. "A
kennel of bloodhounds; and such dogs I never saw before. They
were of a species between the bloodhound and the foxhound, and
were ferocious, gaunt, and savage-looking animals. They were part
of a stock imported from Cuba, he informed me. They were kept in
an iron cage, and fed on Indian corn bread. This kind of food, he
said, made them eager for their business. Sometimes they would
give the dogs meat, but it was always after they had been chasing
a Negro." "Were those the dogs you had, papa, to hunt Harry?"
asked Georgiana. "No, my dear," was the short reply: and the
parson seemed anxious to change the conversation to something
else. When Mr. Peck had left the room, Carlton spoke more freely
of what he had seen, and spoke more pointedly against slavery;
for he well knew that Miss Peck sympathised with him in all he
felt and said.
"You mentioned about your father hunting a slave," said Carlton,
in an undertone. "Yes," replied she: "papa went with some
slave-catchers and a parcel of those nasty Negro-dogs, to hunt
poor Harry. He belonged to papa and lived on the farm. His wife
lives in town, and Harry had been to see her, and did not return
quite as early as he should; and Huckelby was flogging him, and
he got away and came here. I wanted papa to keep him in town, so
that he could see his wife more frequently; but he said they
could not spare him from the farm, and flogged him again, and
sent him back. The poor fellow knew that the overseer would
punish him over again, and instead of going back he went into the
woods." "Did they catch him?" asked Carlton. "Yes," replied she.
"In chasing him through the woods, he attempted to escape by
swimming across a river, and the dogs were sent in after him, and
soon caught him. But Harry had great courage and fought the dogs
with a big club; and papa seeing the Negro would escape from the
dogs, shot at him, as he says, only to wound him, that he might
be caught; but the poor fellow was killed." Overcome by relating
this incident, Georgiana burst into tears.
Although Mr. Peck fed and clothed his house servants well, and
treated them with a degree of kindness, he was, nevertheless, a
most cruel master. He encouraged his driver to work the
field-hands from early dawn till late at night; and the good
appearance of the house-servants, and the preaching of Snyder to
the field Negroes, was to cause himself to be regarded as a
Christian master. Being on a visit one day at the farm, and
having with him several persons from the Free States, and wishing
to make them believe that his slaves were happy, satisfied, and
contented, the parson got out the whiskey and gave each one a
dram, who in return had to drink the master's health, or give a
toast of some kind. The company were not a little amused at some
of the sentiments given, and Peck was delighted at every
indication of contentment on the part of the blacks. At last it
came to Jack's turn to drink, and the master expected something
good from him, because he was considered the cleverest and most
witty slave on the farm.
"Now," said the master, as he handed Jack the cup of whiskey;
"now, Jack, give us something rich. You know," continued he, "we
have raised the finest crop of cotton that's been seen in these
parts for many a day. Now give us a toast on cotton; come, Jack,
give us something to laugh at." The Negro felt not a little
elated at being made the hero of the occasion, and taking the
whiskey in his right hand, put his left to his head and began to
scratch his wool, and said,
"The big bee flies high,
The little bee make the honey;
The black folks makes the cotton,
And the white folks gets the money."
CHAPTER XIV
A FREE WOMAN REDUCED TO SLAVERY
ALTHESA found in Henry Morton a kind and affectionate husband;
and his efforts to purchase her mother, although unsuccessful,
had doubly endeared him to her. Having from the commencement
resolved not to hold slaves, or rather not to own any, they were
compelled to hire servants for their own use. Five years had
passed away, and their happiness was increased by two lovely
daughters. Mrs. Morton was seated, one bright afternoon, busily
engaged with her needle, and near her sat Salome, a servant that
she had just taken into her employ. The woman was perfectly
white; so much so, that Mrs. Morton had expressed her
apprehensions to her husband, when the woman first came, that she
was not born a slave. The mistress watched the servant, as the
latter sat sewing upon some coarse work, and saw the large silent
tear in her eye. This caused an uneasiness to the mistress, and
she said, "Salome, don't you like your situation here?" "Oh yes,
madam," answered the woman in a quick tone, and then tried to
force a smile. "Why is it that you often look sad, and with tears
in your eyes?" The mistress saw that she had touched a tender
chord, and continued, "I am your friend; tell me your sorrow,
and, if I can, I will help you." As the last sentence was
escaping the lips of the mistress, the slave woman put her check
apron to her face and wept. Mrs. Morton saw plainly that there
was cause for this expression of grief, and pressed the woman
more closely. "Hear me, then," said the woman calming herself:
"I will tell you why I sometimes weep. I was born in Germany, on
the banks of the Rhine. Ten years ago my father came to this
country, bringing with him my mother and myself. He was poor, and
I, wishing to assist all I could, obtained a situation as nurse
to a lady in this city. My father got employment as a labourer on
the wharf, among the steamboats; but he was soon taken ill with
the yellow fever, and died. My mother then got a situation for
herself, while I remained with my first employer. When the hot
season came on, my master, with his wife, left New Orleans until
the hot season was over, and took me with them. They stopped at a
town on the banks of the Mississippi river, and said they should
remain there some weeks. One day they went out for a ride, and
they had not been one more than half an hour, when two men came
into the room and told me that they had bought me, and that I was
their slave. I was bound and taken to prison, and that night put
on a steamboat and taken up the Yazoo river, and set to work on a
farm. I was forced to take up with a Negro, and by him had three
children. A year since my master's daughter was married, and I
was given to her. She came with her husband to this city, and I
have ever since been hired out."
"Unhappy woman," whispered Althesa, "why did you not tell me this
before?" "I was afraid," replied Salome, "for I was once severely
flogged for telling a stranger that I was not born a slave." On
Mr. Morton's return home, his wife communicated to him the story
which the slave woman had told her an hour before, and begged
that something might be done to rescue her from the situation she
was then in. In Louisiana as well as many others of the slave
states, great obstacles are thrown in the way of persons who have
been wrongfully reduced to slavery regaining their freedom. A
person claiming to be free must prove his right to his liberty.
This, it will be seen, throws the burden of proof upon the slave,
who, in all probability, finds it out of his power to procure
such evidence. And if any free person shall attempt to aid a
freeman in re-gaining his freedom, he is compelled to enter into
security in the sum of one thousand dollars, and if the person
claiming to be free shall fail to establish such fact, the
thousand dollars are forfeited to the state. This cruel and
oppressive law has kept many a freeman from espousing the cause
of persons unjustly held as slaves. Mr. Morton inquired and found
that the woman's story was true, as regarded the time she had
lived with her present owner; but the latter not only denied that
she was free, but immediately removed her from Morton's. Three
months after Salome had been removed from Morton's and let out to
another family, she was one morning cleaning the door steps, when
a lady passing by, looked at the slave and thought she recognised
some one that she had seen before. The lady stopped and asked the
woman if she was a slave. "I am," said she. "Were you born a
slave?" "No, I was born in Germany." "What's the name of the ship
in which you came to this country?" inquired the lady. "I don't
know," was the answer. "Was it the Amazon?" At the sound of
this name, the slave woman was silent for a moment, and then the
tears began to flow freely down her careworn cheeks. "Would you
know Mrs. Marshall, who was a passenger in the Amazon, if you
should see her?" inquired the lady. At this the woman gazed at
the lady with a degree of intensity that can be imagined better
than described, and then fell at the lady's feet. The lady was
Mrs. Marshall. She had crossed the Atlantic in the same ship with
this poor woman. Salome, like many of her countrymen, was a
beautiful singer, and had often entertained Mrs. Marshall and the
other lady passengers on board the Amazon. The poor woman was
raised from the ground by Mrs. Marshall, and placed upon the door
step that she had a moment before been cleaning. "I will do my
utmost to rescue you from the horrid life of a slave," exclaimed
the lady, as she took from her pocket her pencil, and wrote down
the number of the house, and the street in which the German woman
was working as a slave.
After a long and tedious trial of many days, it was decided that
Salome Miller was by birth a free woman, and she was set at
liberty. The good and generous Althesa had contributed some of
the money toward bringing about the trial, and had done much to
cheer on Mrs. Marshall in her benevolent object. Salome Miller
is free, but where are her three children? They are still slaves,
and in all human probability will die as such.
This, reader, is no fiction; if you think so, look over the files
of the New Orleans newspapers of the years 1845-6, and you will
there see reports of the trial.
CHAPTER XV
TO-DAY A MISTRESS, TO-MORROW A SLAVE
"I promised thee a sister tale
Of man's perfidious cruelty;
Come, then, and hear what cruel wrong
Befell the dark ladie."--Coleridge.
LET us return for a moment to the home of Clotel. While she was
passing lonely and dreary hours with none but her darling child,
Horatio Green was trying to find relief in that insidious enemy
of man, the intoxicating cup. Defeated in politics, forsaken in
love by his wife, he seemed to have lost all principle of honour,
and was ready to nerve himself up to any deed, no matter how
unprincipled. Clotel's existence was now well known to Horatio's
wife, and both her [sic] and her father demanded that the
beautiful quadroon and her child should be sold and sent out of
the state. To this proposition he at first turned a deaf ear; but
when he saw that his wife was about to return to her father's
roof, he consented to leave the matter in the hands of his
father-in-law. The result was, that Clotel was immediately sold
to the slave-trader, Walker, who, a few years previous, had taken
her mother and sister to the far South. But, as if to make her
husband drink of the cup of humiliation to its very dregs, Mrs.
Green resolved to take his child under her own roof for a
servant. Mary was, therefore, put to the meanest work that could
be found, and although only ten years of age, she was often
compelled to perform labour, which, under ordinary circumstances,
would have been thought too hard for one much older. One
condition of the sale of Clotel to Walker was, that she should be
taken out of the state, which was accordingly done. Most
quadroon women who are taken to the lower countries to be sold
are either purchased by gentlemen for their own use, or sold for
waiting-maids; and Clotel, like her sister, was fortunate enough
to be bought for the latter purpose. The town of Vicksburgh
stands on the left bank of the Mississippi, and is noted for the
severity with which slaves are treated. It was here that Clotel
was sold to Mr. James French, a merchant.
Mrs. French was severe in the extreme to her servants. Well
dressed, but scantily fed, and overworked were all who found a
home with her. The quadroon had been in her new home but a short
time ere she found that her situation was far different from what
it was in Virginia. What social virtues are possible in a
society of which injustice is the primary characteristic? in a
society which is divided into two classes, masters and slaves?
Every married woman in the far South looks upon her husband as
unfaithful, and regards every quadroon servant as a rival. Clotel
had been with her new mistress but a few days, when she was
ordered to cut off her long hair. The Negro, constitutionally, is
fond of dress and outward appearance. He that has short, woolly
hair, combs it and oils it to death. He that has long hair, would
sooner have his teeth drawn than lose it. However painful it was
to the quadroon, she was soon seen with her hair cut as short as
any of the full-blooded Negroes in the dwelling.
Even with her short hair, Clotel was handsome. Her life had been
a secluded one, and though now nearly thirty years of age, she
was still beautiful. At her short hair, the other servants
laughed, "Miss Clo needn't strut round so big, she got short
nappy har well as I," said Nell, with a broad grin that showed
her teeth. "She tinks she white, when she come here wid dat long
har of hers," replied Mill. "Yes," continued Nell; "missus make
her take down her wool so she no put it up to-day."
The fairness of Clotel's complexion was regarded with envy as well
by the other servants as by the mistress herself. This is one of
the hard features of slavery. To-day the woman is mistress of her
own cottage; to-morrow she is sold to one who aims to make her
life as intolerable as possible. And be it remembered, that the
house servant has the best situation which a slave can occupy.
Some American writers have tried to make the world believe that
the condition of the labouring classes of England is as bad as
the slaves of the United States.
The English labourer may be oppressed, he may be cheated,
defrauded, swindled, and even starved; but it is not slavery
under which he groans. He cannot be sold; in point of law he is
equal to the prime minister. "It is easy to captivate the
unthinking and the prejudiced, by eloquent declamation about the
oppression of English operatives being worse than that of
American slaves, and by exaggerating the wrongs on one side and
hiding them on the other. But all informed and reflecting minds,
knowing that bad as are the social evils of England, those of
Slavery are immeasurably worse." But the degradation and harsh
treatment that Clotel experienced in her new home was nothing
compared with the grief she underwent at being separated from her
dear child. Taken from her without scarcely a moment's warning,
she knew not what had become of her. The deep and heartfelt
grief of Clotel was soon perceived by her owners, and fearing
that her refusal to take food would cause her death, they
resolved to sell her. Mr. French found no difficulty in getting a
purchaser for the quadroon woman, for such are usually the most
marketable kind of property. Clotel was sold at private sale to a
young man for a housekeeper; but even he had missed his aim.
CHAPTER XVI
DEATH OF THE PARSON
CARLTON was above thirty years of age, standing on the last legs
of a young man, and entering on the first of a bachelor. He had
never dabbled in matters of love, and looked upon all women
alike. Although he respected woman for her virtues, and often
spoke of the goodness of heart of the sex, he had never dreamed
of marriage. At first he looked upon Miss Peck as a pretty young
woman, but after she became his religious teacher, he regarded
her in that light, that every one will those whom they know to be
their superiors. It was soon seen, however, that the young man not
only respected and reverenced Georgiana for the incalculable
service she had done him, in awakening him to a sense of duty to
his soul, but he had learned to bow to the shrine of Cupid. He
found, weeks after he had been in her company, that when he met
her at table, or alone in the drawing room, or on the piazza, he
felt a shortness of breath, a palpitating of the heart, a kind of
dizziness of the head; but he knew not its cause.
This was love in its first stage. Mr. Peck saw, or thought he
saw, what would be the result of Carlton's visit, and held out
every inducement in his power to prolong his stay. The hot season
was just commencing, and the young Northerner was talking of his
return home, when the parson was very suddenly taken ill. The
disease was the cholera, and the physicians pronounced the case
incurable. In less than five hours John Peck was a corpse. His
love for Georgiana, and respect for her father, had induced
Carlton to remain by the bedside of the dying man, although
against the express orders of the physician. This act of kindness
caused the young orphan henceforth to regard Carlton as her best
friend. He now felt it his duty to remain with the young woman
until some of her relations should be summoned from Connecticut.
After the funeral, the family physician advised that Miss Peck
should go to the farm, and spend the time at the country seat;
and also advised Carlton to remain with her, which he did.
At the parson's death his Negroes showed little or no signs of
grief. This was noticed by both Carlton and Miss Peck, and caused
no little pain to the latter. "They are ungrateful," said
Carlton, as he and Georgiana were seated on the piazza. "What,"
asked she, "have they to be grateful for?" "Your father was kind,
was he not?" "Yes, as kind as most men who own slaves; but the
kindness meted out to blacks would be unkindness if given to
whites. We would think so, should we not?" "Yes," replied he.
"If we would not consider the best treatment which a slave receives
good enough for us, we should not think he ought to be grateful
for it. Everybody knows that slavery in its best and mildest form
is wrong. Whoever denies this, his lips libel his heart. Try him!
Clank the chains in his ears, and tell him they are for him; give
him an hour to prepare his wife and children for a life of
slavery; bid him make haste, and get ready their necks for the
yoke, and their wrists for the coffle chains; then look at his
pale lips and trembling knees, and you have nature's testimony
against slavery."
"Let's take a walk," said Carlton, as if to turn the
conversation. The moon was just appearing through the tops of
the trees, and the animals and insects in an adjoining wood kept
up a continued din of music. The croaking of bull-frogs, buzzing
of insects, cooing of turtle-doves, and the sound from a thousand
musical instruments, pitched on as many different keys, made the
welkin ring. But even all this noise did not drown the singing of
a party of the slaves, who were seated near a spring that was
sending up its cooling waters. "How prettily the Negroes sing,"
remarked Carlton, as they were wending their way towards the
place from whence the sound of the voices came. "Yes," replied
Georgiana; "master Sam is there, I'll warrant you: he's always on
hand when there's any singing or dancing. We must not let them
see us, or they will stop singing." "Who makes their songs for
them?" inquired the young man. "Oh, they make them up as they
sing them; they are all impromptu songs." By this time they were
near enough to hear distinctly every word; and, true enough,
Sam's voice was heard above all others. At the conclusion of each
song they all joined in a hearty laugh, with an expression of
"Dats de song for me;" "Dems dems."
"Stop," said Carlton, as Georgiana was rising from the log upon
which she was seated; "stop, and let's hear this one." The piece
was sung by Sam, the others joining in the chorus, and was as
follows:
Sam.
"Come, all my brethren, let us take a rest,
While the moon shines so brightly and clear;
Old master is dead, and left us at last,
And has gone at the Bar to appear.
Old master has died, and lying in his grave,
And our blood will awhile cease to flow;
He will no more trample on the neck of the slave;
For he's gone where the slaveholders go.
Chorus.
"Hang up the shovel and the hoe
Take down the fiddle and the bow--
Old master has gone to the slaveholder's rest;
He has gone where they all ought to go.
Sam.
"I heard the old doctor say the other night,
As he passed by the dining-room door
'Perhaps the old man may live through the night,
But I think he will die about four.'
Young mistress sent me, at the peril of my life,
For the parson to come down and pray,
For says she, 'Your old master is now about to die,'
And says I, 'God speed him on his way.'
"Hang up the shovel, &c.
"At four o'clock at morn the family was called
Around the old man's dying bed;
And oh! but I laughed to myself when I heard
That the old man's spirit had fled.
Mr. Carlton cried, and so did I pretend;
Young mistress very nearly went mad;
And the old parson's groans did the heavens fairly rend;
But I tell you I felt mighty glad.
"Hang up the shovel, &c.
"We'll no more be roused by the blowing of his horn,
Our backs no longer he will score;
He no more will feed us on cotton-seeds and corn;
For his reign of oppression now is o'er.
He no more will hang our children on the tree,
To be ate by the carrion crow;
He no more will send our wives to Tennessee;
For he's gone where the slaveholders go.
"Hang up the shovel and the hoe,
Take down the fiddle and the bow,
We'll dance and sing,
And make the forest ring,
With the fiddle and the old banjo."
The song was not half finished before Carlton regretted that he
had caused the young lady to remain and hear what to her must be
anything but pleasant reflections upon her deceased parent. "I
think we will walk," said he, at the same time extending his arm
to Georgiana. "No," said she; "let's hear them out. It is from
these unguarded expressions of the feelings of the Negroes, that
we should learn a lesson." At its conclusion they walked towards
the house in silence: as they were ascending the steps, the young
man said, "They are happy, after all. The Negro, situated as yours
are, is not aware that he is deprived of any just rights." "Yes,
yes," answered Georgiana: "you may place the slave where you
please; you may dry up to your utmost the fountains of his
feelings, the springs of his thought; you may yoke him to your
labour, as an ox which liveth only to work, and worketh only to
live; you may put him under any process which, without destroying
his value as a slave, will debase and crush him as a rational
being; you may do this, and the idea that he was born to be free
will survive it all. It is allied to his hope of immortality; it
is the ethereal part of his nature, which oppression cannot
reach; it is a torch lit up in his soul by the hand of Deity, and
never meant to be extinguished by the hand of man."
On reaching the drawing-room, they found Sam snuffing the
candles, and looking as solemn and as dignified as if he had
never sung a song or laughed in his life. "Will Miss Georgy have
de supper got up now?" asked the Negro. "Yes," she replied.
"Well," remarked Carlton, "that beats anything I ever met with.
Do you think that was Sam we heard singing?" "I am sure of it,"
was the answer. "I could not have believed that that fellow was
capable of so much deception," continued he. "Our system of
slavery is one of deception; and Sam, you see, has only been a
good scholar. However, he is as honest a fellow as you will find
among the slave population here. If we would have them more
honest, we should give them their liberty, and then the
inducement to be dishonest would be gone. I have resolved that
these creatures shall all be free." "Indeed!" exclaimed Carlton.
"Yes, I shall let them all go free, and set an example to those
about me." "I honour your judgment," said he. "But will the state
permit them to remain?" "If not, they can go where they can live
in freedom. I will not be unjust because the state is."
CHAPTER XVII
RETALIATION
"I had a dream, a happy dream;
I thought that I was free:
That in my own bright land again
A home there was for me."
WITH the deepest humiliation Horatio Green saw the daughter of
Clotel, his own child, brought into his dwelling as a servant.
His wife felt that she had been deceived, and determined to
punish her deceiver. At first Mary was put to work in the kitchen,
where she met with little or no sympathy from the other slaves,
owing to the fairness of her complexion. The child was white,
what should be done to make her look like other Negroes, was the
question Mrs. Green asked herself. At last she hit upon a plan:
there was a garden at the back of the house over which Mrs. Green
could look from her parlour window. Here the white slave-girl was
put to work, without either bonnet or handkerchief upon her head.
A hot sun poured its broiling rays on the naked face and neck of
the girl, until she sank down in the corner of the garden, and
was actually broiled to sleep. "Dat little nigger ain't working a
bit, missus," said Dinah to Mrs. Green, as she entered the
kitchen.
"She's lying in the sun, seasoning; she will work better by and
by," replied the mistress. "Dees white niggers always tink dey
sef good as white folks," continued the cook. "Yes, but we will
teach them better; won't we, Dinah?" "Yes, missus, I don't like
dees mularter niggers, no how: dey always want to set dey sef up
for something big." The cook was black, and was not without that
prejudice which is to be found among the Negroes, as well as
among the whites of the Southern States. The sun had the desired
effect, for in less than a fortnight Mary's fair complexion had
disappeared, and she was but little whiter than any other mulatto
children running about the yard. But the close resemblance
between the father and child annoyed the mistress more than the
mere whiteness of the child's complexion. Horatio made
proposition after proposition to have the girl sent away, for
every time he beheld her countenance it reminded him of the happy
days he had spent with Clotel. But his wife had commenced, and
determined to carry out her unfeeling and fiendish designs. This
child was not only white, but she was the granddaughter of Thomas
Jefferson, the man who, when speaking against slavery in the
legislature of Virginia, said,
"The whole commerce between master and slave is a perpetual
exercise of the most boisterous passions; the most unremitting
despotism on the one part, and degrading submission on the other.
With what execration should the statesman be loaded who,
permitting one half the citizens thus to trample on the rights of
the other, transforms those into despots and these into enemies,
destroys the morals of the one part, and the amor patriae of the
other! For if the slave can have a country in this world, it must
be any other in preference to that in which he is born to live
and labour for another; in which he must lock up the faculties of
his nature, contribute as far as depends on his individual
endeavours to the evanishment of the human race, or entail his
own miserable condition on the endless generations proceeding
from him. And can the liberties of a nation be thought secure
when we have removed their only firm basis, a conviction in the
minds of the people that these liberties are the gift of God?
that they are not to be violated but with his wrath? Indeed, I
tremble for my country when I reflect that God is just; that his
justice cannot sleep for ever; that, considering numbers, nature,
and natural means only, a revolution of the wheel of fortune, an
exchange of situation, is among possible events; that it may
become probable by supernatural interference! The Almighty has no
attribute which can take side with us in such a contest.
"What an incomprehensible machine is man! Who can endure toil,
famine, stripes, imprisonment, and death itself, in vindication
of his own liberty, and the next moment be deaf to all those
motives, whose power supported him through his trial, and inflict
on his fellow-men a bondage, one hour of which is fraught with
more misery than ages of that which he rose in rebellion to
oppose! But we must wait with patience the workings of an
overruling Providence, and hope that that is preparing the
deliverance of these our suffering brethren. When the measure of
their tears shall be full--when their tears shall have involved
heaven itself in darkness--doubtless a God of justice will awaken
to their distress, and by diffusing light and liberality among
their oppressors, or at length by his exterminating thunder,
manifest his attention to things of this world, and that they are
not left to the guidance of blind fatality."
The same man, speaking of the probability that the slaves might
some day attempt to gain their liberties by a revolution, said,
"I tremble for my country, when I recollect that God is just, and
that His justice cannot sleep for ever. The Almighty has no
attribute that can take sides with us in such a struggle."
But, sad to say, Jefferson is not the only American statesman who
has spoken high-sounding words in favour of freedom, and then
left his own children to die slaves.
CHAPTER XVIII
THE LIBERATOR
"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created
free and equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with
certain inalienable rights; among these are life, liberty, and
the pursuit of happiness."--Declaration of American Independence.
THE death of the parson was the commencement of a new era in the
history of his slaves. Only a little more than eighteen years of
age, Georgiana could not expect to carry out her own wishes in
regard to the slaves, although she was sole heir to her father's
estate. There were distant relations whose opinions she had at
least to respect. And both law and public opinion in the state
were against any measure of emancipation that she might think of
adopting; unless, perhaps, she might be permitted to send them to
Liberia. Her uncle in Connecticut had already been written to, to
come down and aid in settling up the estate. He was a Northern
man, but she knew him to be a tight-fisted yankee, whose whole
counsel would go against liberating the Negroes. Yet there was
one way in which the thing could be done. She loved Carlton, and
she well knew that he loved her; she read it in his countenance
every time they met, yet the young man did not mention his wishes
to her. There were many reasons why he should not. In the first
place, her father was just deceased, and it seemed only right
that he should wait a reasonable time. Again, Carlton was poor,
and Georgiana was possessed of a large fortune; and his high
spirit would not, for a moment, allow him to place himself in a
position to be regarded as a fortune-hunter. The young girl
hinted, as best she could, at the probable future; but all to no
purpose. He took nothing to himself. True, she had read much of
"woman's rights;" and had even attended a meeting, while at the
North, which had been called to discuss the wrongs of woman; but
she could not nerve herself up to the point of putting the
question to Carlton, although she felt sure that she should not
be rejected. She waited, but in vain. At last, one evening, she
came out of her room rather late, and was walking on the piazza
for fresh air. She passed near Carlton's room, and heard the
voice of Sam. The negro had just come in to get the young man's
boots, and had stopped, as he usually did, to have some talk. "I
wish," said Sam, "dat Marser Carlton an Miss Georgy would get
married; den, speck, we'd have good times." "I don't think your
mistress would have me," replied the young man. "What make tink
dat, Marser Carlton?" "Your mistress would marry no one, Sam,
unless she loved them." "Den I wish she would lub you, cause I tink
we have good times den. All our folks is de same 'pinion like
me," returned the Negro, and then left the room with the boots in
his hands. During the conversation between the Anglo-Saxon and
the African, one word had been dropped by the former that haunted
the young lady the remainder of the night--"Your mistress would
marry no one unless she loved them." That word awoke her in the
morning, and caused her to decide upon this import subject. Love
and duty triumphed over the woman's timid nature, and that day
Georgiana informed Carlton that she was ready to become his wife.
The young man, with grateful tears, accepted and
kissed the hand that was offered to him. The marriage of Carlton
and Miss Peck was hailed with delight by both the servants in the
house and the Negroes on the farm. New rules were immediately
announced for the working and general treatment of the slaves on
the plantation. With this, Huckelby, the overseer, saw his reign
coming to an end; and Snyder, the Dutch preacher, felt that his
services would soon be dispensed with, for nothing was more
repugnant to the feelings of Mrs. Carlton than the sermons
preached by Snyder to the slaves. She regarded them as something
intended to make them better satisfied with their condition, and
more valuable as pieces of property, without preparing them for
the world to come. Mrs. Carlton found in her husband a congenial
spirit, who entered into all her wishes and plans for bettering
the condition of their slaves. Mrs. Carlton's views and
sympathies were all in favour of immediate emancipation; but then
she saw, or thought she saw, a difficulty in that. If the slaves
were liberated, they must be sent out of the state. This, of
course, would incur additional expense; and if they left the
state, where had they better go? "Let's send them to Liberia,"
said Carlton. "Why should they go to Africa, any more than to the
Free States or to Canada?" asked the wife. "They would be in
their native land," he answered. "Is not this their native land?
What right have we, more than the Negro, to the soil here, or to
style ourselves native Americans? Indeed it is as much their home
as ours, and I have sometimes thought it was more theirs. The
Negro has cleared up the lands, built towns, and enriched the
soil with his blood and tears; and in return, he is to be sent to
a country of which he knows nothing. Who fought more bravely for
American independence than the blacks? A negro, by the
name of Attucks, was the first that fell in Boston at the
commencement of the revolutionary war; and throughout the whole
of the struggles for liberty in this country, the Negroes have
contributed their share. In the last war with Great Britain, the
country was mainly indebted to the blacks in New Orleans for the
achievement of the victory at that place; and even General
Jackson, the commander in chief, called the Negroes together at
the close of the war, and addressed them in the following
terms:--
'Soldiers!--When on the banks of the Mobile I called you to take up
arms, inviting you to partake the perils and glory of your white
fellow citizens, I expected much from you; for I was not ignorant
that you possess qualities most formidable to an invading enemy. I
knew with what fortitude you could endure hunger and thirst, and
all the fatigues of a campaign. I knew well how you loved your
native country, and that you, as well as ourselves, had to defend
what man holds most dear--his parents, wife, children, and
property. You have done more than I expected. In addition to the
previous qualities I before knew you to possess, I found among
you a noble enthusiasm, which leads to the performance of great
things.
'Soldiers! The President of the United States shall hear how
praiseworthy was your conduct in the hour of danger, and the
representatives of the American people will give you the praise
your exploits entitle you to. Your general anticipates them in
appauding your noble ardour.'
"And what did these noble men receive in return for their
courage, their heroism? Chains and slavery. Their good deeds have
been consecrated only in their own memories. Who rallied with
more alacrity in response to the summons of danger? If in that
hazardous hour, when our homes were menaced with the horrors of
war, we did not disdain to call upon the Negro to assist in
repelling invasion, why should we, now that the danger is past,
deny him a home in his native land?" "I see," said Carlton, "you
are right, but I fear you will have difficulty in persuading
others to adopt your views." "We will set the example," replied
she, "and then hope for the best; for I feel that the people of
the Southern States will one day see their error. Liberty has
always been our watchword, as far as profession is concerned.
Nothing has been held so cheap as our common humanity, on a
national average. If every man had his aliquot proportion of the
injustice done in this land, by law and violence, the present
freemen of the northern section would many of them commit suicide
in self-defence, and would court the liberties awarded by Ali
Pasha of Egypt to his subjects. Long ere this we should have
tested, in behalf of our bleeding and crushed American brothers
of every hue and complexion, every new constitution, custom, or
practice, by which inhumanity was supposed to be upheld, the
injustice and cruelty they contained, emblazoned before the great
tribunal of mankind for condemnation; and the good and available
power they possessed, for the relief, deliverance and elevation
of oppressed men, permitted to shine forth from under the cloud,
for the refreshment of the human race."
Although Mr. and Mrs. Carlton felt that immediate emancipation
was the right of the slave and the duty of the master, they
resolved on a system of gradual emancipation, so as to give them
time to accomplish their wish, and to prepare the Negro for
freedom. Huckelby was one morning told that his services would
no longer be required. The Negroes, ninety-eight in number, were
called together and told that the whip would no longer be used,
and that they would be allowed a certain sum for every bale of
cotton produced. Sam, whose long experience in the cotton-field
before he had been taken into the house, and whose general
intelligence justly gave him the first place amongst the Negroes
on the Poplar Farm, was placed at their head. They were also
given to understand that the money earned by them would be placed
to their credit; and when it amounted to a certain sum, they
should all be free.
The joy with which this news was received by the slaves, showed
their grateful appreciation of the boon their benefactors were
bestowing upon them. The house servants were called and told that
wages would be allowed them, and what they earned set to their
credit, and they too should be free. The next were the
bricklayers. There were eight of these, who had paid their master
two dollars per day, and boarded and clothed themselves. An
arrangement was entered into with them, by which the money they
earned should be placed to their credit; and they too should be
free, when a certain amount should be accumulated; and great was
the change amongst all these people. The bricklayers had been to
work but a short time, before their increased industry was
noticed by many. They were no longer apparently the same people.
A sedateness, a care, an economy, an industry, took possession of
them, to which there seemed to be no bounds but in their physical
strength. They were never tired of labouring, and seemed as
though they could never effect enough. They became temperate,
moral, religious, setting an example of innocent, unoffending
lives to the world around them, which was seen and admired by
all. Mr. Parker, a man who worked nearly forty slaves at the same
business, was attracted by the manner in which these Negroes
laboured. He called on Mr. Carlton, some weeks after they had
been acting on the new system, and offered 2,000 dollars for the
head workman, Jim. The offer was, of course, refused. A few days
after the same gentleman called again, and made an offer of
double the sum that he had on the former occasion. Mr. Parker,
finding that no money would purchase either of the Negroes, said,
"Now, Mr. Carlton, pray tell me what it is that makes your
Negroes work so? What kind of people are they?" "I suppose,"
observed Carlton, "that they are like other people, flesh and
blood." "Why, sir," continued Parker, "I have never seen such
people; building as they are next door to my residence, I see and
have my eye on them from morning till night. You are never there,
for I have never met you, or seen you once at the building. Why,
sir, I am an early riser, getting up before day; and do you think
that I am not awoke every morning in my life by the noise of
their trowels at work, and their singing and noise before day;
and do you suppose, sir, that they stop or leave off work at
sundown? No, sir, but they work as long as they can see to lay a
brick, and then they carry tip brick and mortar for an hour or
two afterward, to be ahead of their work the next morning. And
again, sir, do you think that they walk at their work? No, sir,
they run all day. You see, sir, those immensely long, ladders,
five stories in height; do you suppose they walk up them? No,
sir, they run up and down them like so many monkeys all day long.
I never saw such people as these in my life. I don't know what to
make of them. Were a white man with them and over them with a
whip, then I should see and understand the cause of the running
and incessant labour; but I cannot comprehend it; there is
something in it, sir. Great man, sir, that Jim; great man; I
should like to own him." Carlton here informed Parker that their
liberties depended upon their work; when the latter replied, "If
niggers can work so for the promise of freedom, they ought to be
made to work without it." This last remark was in the true spirit
of the slaveholder, and reminds us of the fact that, some years
since, the overseer of General Wade Hampton offered the
niggers under him a suit of clothes to the one that picked the
most cotton in one day; and after that time that day's work was
given as a task to the slaves on that plantation; and, after a
while, was adopted by other planters.
The Negroes on the farm, under "Marser Sam," were also working in
a manner that attracted the attention of the planters round
about. They no longer feared Huckelby's whip, and no longer slept
under the preaching of Snyder. On the Sabbath, Mr. and Mrs.
Carlton read and explained the Scriptures to them; and the very
great attention paid by the slaves showed plainly that they
appreciated the gospel when given to them in its purity. The death
of Currer, from yellow fever, was a great trial to Mrs. Carlton;
for she had not only become much attached to her, but had heard
with painful interest the story of her wrongs, and would, in all
probability, have restored her to her daughter in New Orleans.
CHAPTER XIX
ESCAPE OF CLOTEL
"The fetters galled my weary soul--
A soul that seemed but thrown away;
I spurned the tyrant's base control,
Resolved at least the man to play."
No country has produced so much heroism in so short a time,
connected with escapes from peril and oppression, as has occurred
in the United States among fugitive slaves, many of whom show
great shrewdness in their endeavours to escape from this land of
bondage. A slave was one day seen passing on the high road from a
border town in the interior of the state of Virginia to the Ohio
river. The man had neither hat upon his head or coat upon his
back. He was driving before him a very nice fat pig, and appeared
to all who saw him to be a labourer employed on an adjoining
farm. "No Negro is permitted to go at large in the Slave States
without a written pass from his or her master, except on business
in the neighbourhood." "Where do you live, my boy?" asked a white
man of the slave, as he passed a white house with green blinds.
"Jist up de road, sir," was the answer. "That's a fine pig."
"Yes, sir, marser like dis choat berry much." And the Negro drove
on as if he was in great haste. In this way he and the pig
travelled more than fifty miles before they reached the Ohio
river. Once at the river they crossed over; the pig was sold; and
nine days after the runaway slave passed over the Niagara river,
and, for the first time in his life, breathed the air of freedom.
A few weeks later, and, on the same road, two slaves were seen
passing; one was on horseback, the other was walking before him
with his arms tightly bound, and a long rope leading from the man
on foot to the one on horseback. "Oh, ho, that's a runaway
rascal, I suppose," said a farmer, who met them on the road.
"Yes, sir, he bin runaway, and I got him fast. Marser will tan
his jacket for him nicely when he gets him." "You are a
trustworthy fellow, I imagine," continued the farmer. "Oh yes,
sir; marser puts a heap of confidence in dis nigger." And the
slaves travelled on. When the one on foot was fatigued they would
change positions, the other being tied and driven on foot. This
they called "ride and tie." After a journey of more than two
hundred miles they reached the Ohio river, turned the horse
loose, told him to go home, and proceeded on their way to Canada.
However they were not to have it all their own way. There are men
in the Free States, and especially in the states adjacent to the
Slave States, who make their living by catching the runaway
slave, and returning him for the reward that may be offered. As
the two slaves above mentioned were travelling on towards the
land of freedom, led by the North Star, they were set upon by
four of these slave-catchers, and one of them unfortunately
captured. The other escaped. The captured fugitive was put under
the torture, and compelled to reveal the name of his owner and
his place of residence. Filled with delight, the kidnappers
started back with their victim. Overjoyed with the prospect of
receiving a large reward, they gave themselves up on the third
night to pleasure. They put up at an inn. The Negro was chained
to the bed-post, in the same room with his captors. At dead of
night, when all was still, the slave arose from the floor upon
which he had been lying, looked around, and saw that
the white men were fast asleep. The brandy punch had done its
work. With palpitating heart and trembling limbs he viewed his
position. The door was fast, but the warm weather had compelled
them to leave the window open. If he could but get his chains
off, he might escape through the window to the piazza, and reach
the ground by one of the posts that supported the piazza. The
sleeper's clothes hung upon chairs by the bedside; the slave
thought of the padlock key, examined the pockets and found it.
The chains were soon off, and the Negro stealthily making his way
to the window: he stopped and said to himself, "These men are
villains, they are enemies to all who like me are trying to be
free. Then why not I teach them a lesson?" He then undressed
himself, took the clothes of one of the men, dressed himself in
them, and escaped through the window, and, a moment more, he was
on the high road to Canada. Fifteen days later, and the writer of
this gave him a passage across Lake Erie, and saw him safe in her
Britannic Majesty's dominions.
We have seen Clotel sold to Mr. French in Vicksburgh, her hair
cut short, and everything done to make her realise her position
as a servant. Then we have seen her re-sold, because her owners
feared she would die through grief. As yet her new purchaser
treated her with respectful gentleness, and sought to win her
favour by flattery and presents, knowing that whatever he gave
her he could take back again. But she dreaded every moment lest
the scene should change, and trembled at the sound of every
footfall. At every interview with her new master Clotel stoutly
maintained that she had left a husband in Virginia, and would
never think of taking another. The gold watch and chain, and
other glittering presents which he purchased for her, were all
laid aside by the quadroon, as if they were of no value to her.
In the same house with her was another servant, a man, who had
from time to time hired himself from his master. William was his
name. He could feel for Clotel, for he, like her, had been
separated from near and dear relatives, and often tried to
console the poor woman. One day the quadroon observed to him that
her hair was growing out again. "Yes," replied William, "you look
a good deal like a man with your short hair." "Oh," rejoined she,
"I have often been told that I would make a better looking man
than a woman. If I had the money," continued she, "I would bid
farewell to this place." In a moment more she feared that she had
said too much, and smilingly remarked, "I am always talking
nonsense." William was a tall, full-bodied Negro, whose very
countenance beamed with intelligence. Being a mechanic, he had,
by his own industry, made more than what he paid his owner; this
he laid aside, with the hope that some day he might get enough to
purchase his freedom. He had in his chest one hundred and fifty
dollars. His was a heart that felt for others, and he had again
and again wiped the tears from his eyes as he heard the story of
Clotel as related by herself. "If she can get free with a little
money, why not give her what I have?" thought he, and then he
resolved to do it. An hour after, he came into the quadroon's
room, and laid the money in her lap, and said, "There, Miss
Clotel, you said if you had the means you would leave this place;
there is money enough to take you to England, where you will be
free. You are much fairer than many of the white women of the
South, and can easily pass for a free white lady." At first
Clotel feared that it was a plan by which the Negro wished to try
her fidelity to her owner; but she was soon convinced by his
earnest manner, and the deep feeling with which he spoke, that he
was honest. "I will take the money only on one condition," said
she; "and that is, that I effect your escape as well as my own."
"How can that be done?" he inquired. "I will assume the disguise
of a gentleman and you that of a servant, and we will take
passage on a steamboat and go to Cincinnati, and thence to
Canada." Here William put in several objections to the plan. He
feared detection, and he well knew that, when a slave is once
caught when attempting to escape, if returned is sure to be worse
treated than before. However, Clotel satisfied him that the plan
could be carried out if he would only play his part.
The resolution was taken, the clothes for her disguise procured,
and before night everything was in readiness for their departure.
That night Mr. Cooper, their master, was to attend a party, and
this was their opportunity. William went to the wharf to look out
for a boat, and had scarcely reached the landing ere he heard the
puffing of a steamer. He returned and reported the fact. Clotel
had already packed her trunk, and had only to dress and all was
ready. In less than an hour they were on board the boat. Under
the assumed name of "Mr. Johnson," Clotel went to the clerk's
office and took a private state room for herself, and paid her
own and servant's fare. Besides being attired in a neat suit of
black, she had a white silk handkerchief tied round her chin, as
if she was an invalid. A pair of green glasses covered her eyes;
and fearing that she would be talked to too much and thus render
her liable to be detected, she assumed to be very ill. On the
other hand, William was playing his part well in the servants'
hall; he was talking loudly of his master's wealth. Nothing
appeared as good on the boat as in his master's fine mansion.
"I don't like dees steam-boats no how," said William; "I hope when
marser goes on a journey agin he will take de carriage and de
hosses." Mr. Johnson (for such was the name by which Clotel now
went) remained in his room, to avoid, as far as possible,
conversation with others. After a passage of seven days they
arrived at Louisville, and put up at Gough's Hotel. Here they had
to await the departure of another boat for the North. They were
now in their most critical position. They were still in a slave
state, and John C. Calhoun, a distinguished slave-owner, was a
guest at this hotel. They feared, also, that trouble would attend
their attempt to leave this place for the North, as all persons
taking Negroes with them have to give bail that such Negroes are
not runaway slaves. The law upon this point is very stringent:
all steamboats and other public conveyances are liable to a fine
for every slave that escapes by them, besides paying the full
value for the slave. After a delay of four hours, Mr. Johnson
and servant took passage on the steamer Rodolph, for Pittsburgh.
It is usual, before the departure of the boats, for an officer to
examine every part of the vessel to see that no slave secretes
himself on board. "Where are you going?" asked the officer of
William, as he was doing his duty on this occasion. "I am going
with marser," was the quick reply. "Who is your master?" "Mr.
Johnson, sir, a gentleman in the cabin." "You must take him to
the office and satisfy the captain that all is right, or you
can't go on this boat." William informed his master what the
officer had said. The boat was on the eve of going, and no time
could be lost, yet they knew not what to do. At last they went to
the office, and Mr. Johnson, addressing the captain, said, "I am
informed that my boy can't go with me unless I give security that
he belongs to me. "Yes," replied the captain, "that is the law."
"A very strange law indeed," rejoined Mr. Johnson, "that one
can't take his property with him." After a conversation of some
minutes, and a plea on the part of Johnson that he did not wish
to be delayed owing to his illness, they were permitted to take
their passage without farther trouble, and the boat was soon on
its way up the river. The fugitives had now passed the Rubicon,
and the next place at which they would land would be in a Free
State. Clotel called William to her room, and said to him, "We
are now free, you can go on your way to Canada, and I shall go to
Virginia in search of my daughter." The announcement that she was
going to risk her liberty in a Slave State was unwelcome news to
William. With all the eloquence he could command, he tried to
persuade Clotel that she could not escape detection, and was only
throwing her freedom away. But she had counted the cost, and made
up her mind for the worst. In return for the money he had
furnished, she had secured for him his liberty, and their
engagement was at an end.
After a quick passage the fugitives arrived at Cincinnati, and
there separated. William proceeded on his way to Canada, and
Clotel again resumed her own apparel, and prepared to start in
search of her child. As might have been expected, the escape of
those two valuable slaves created no little sensation in
Vicksburgh. Advertisements and messages were sent in every
direction in which the fugitives were thought to have gone. It was
soon, however, known that they had left the town as master and
servant; and many were the communications which
appeared in the newspapers, in which the writers thought, or
pretended, that they had seen the slaves in their disguise. One
was to the effect that they had gone off in a chaise; one as
master, and the other as servant. But the most probable was an
account given by a correspondent of one of the Southern
newspapers, who happened to be a passenger in the same steamer in
which the slaves escaped, and which we here give:--
"One bright starlight night, in the month of December last, I
found myself in the cabin of the steamer Rodolph, then lying in
the port of Vicksburgh, and bound to Louisville. I had gone early
on board, in order to select a good berth, and having got tired of
reading the papers, amused myself with watching the appearance of
the passengers as they dropped in, one after another, and I being
a believer in physiognomy, formed my own opinion of their
characters.
"The second bell rang, and as I yawningly returned my watch to my
pocket, my attention was attracted by the appearance of a young
man who entered the cabin supported by his servant, a strapping
Negro.
"The man was bundled up in a capacious overcoat; his face was
bandaged with a white handkerchief, and its expression entirely
hid by a pair of enormous spectacles.
"There was something so mysterious and unusual about the young man
as he sat restless in the corner, that curiosity led me to
observe him more closely.
"He appeared anxious to avoid notice, and before the steamer had
fairly left the wharf, requested, in a low, womanly voice, to be
shown his berth, as he was an invalid, and must retire early: his
name he gave as Mr. Johnson. His servant was called, and he was
put quietly to bed. I paced the deck until Tyhee light grew dim
in the distance, and then went to my berth.
"I awoke in the morning with the sun shining in my face; we were
then just passing St. Helena. It was a mild beautiful morning,
and most of the passengers were on deck, enjoying the freshness
of the air, and stimulating their appetites for breakfast. Mr.
Johnson soon made his appearance, arrayed as on the night before,
and took his seat quietly upon the guard of the boat.
"From the better opportunity afforded by daylight, I found that
he was a slight build, apparently handsome young man, with black
hair and eyes, and of a darkness of complexion that betokened
Spanish extraction. Any notice from others seemed painful to him;
so to satisfy my curiosity, I questioned his servant, who was
standing near, and gained the following information.
"His master was an invalid--he had suffered for a long time under a
complication of diseases, that had baffled the skill of the best
physicians in Mississippi; he was now suffering principally with
the 'rheumatism,' and he was scarcely able to walk or help himself
in any way. He came from Vicksburgh, and was now on his way to
Philadelphia, at which place resided his uncle, a celebrated
physician, and through whose means he hoped to be restored to
perfect health.
"This information, communicated in a bold, off-hand manner,
enlisted my sympathies for the sufferer, although it occurred to
me that he walked rather too gingerly for a person afflicted with
so many ailments."
After thanking Clotel for the great service she had done him in
bringing him out of slavery, William bade her farewell. The
prejudice that exists in the Free States against coloured
persons, on account of their colour, is attributable solely to
the influence of slavery, and is but another form of slavery
itself. And even the slave who escapes from the Southern
plantations, is surprised when he reaches the North, at the
amount and withering influence of this prejudice. William applied
at the railway station for a ticket for the train going to
Sandusky, and was told that if he went by that train he would
have to ride in the luggage-van. "Why?" asked the astonished
Negro. "We don't send a Jim Crow carriage but once a day, and
that went this morning." The "Jim Crow" carriage is the one in
which the blacks have to ride. Slavery is a school in which its
victims learn much shrewdness, and William had been an apt
scholar. Without asking any more questions, the Negro took his
seat in one of the first-class carriages. He was soon seen and
ordered out. Afraid to remain in the town longer, he resolved to
go by that train; and consequently seated himself on a goods' box
in the luggage van. The train started at its proper time, and all
went on well. Just before arriving at the end of the journey, the
conductor called on William for his ticket. "I have none," was
the reply. "Well, then, you can pay your fare to me," said the
officer. "How much is it?" asked the black man. "Two dollars."
"What do you charge those in the passenger-carriage?" "Two
dollars." "And do you charge me the same as you do those who ride
in the best carriages?" asked the Negro. "Yes," was the answer.
"I shan't pay it," returned the man. "You black scamp, do you
think you can ride on this road without paying your fare?" "No, I
don't want to ride for nothing; I only want to pay what's right."
"Well, launch out two dollars, and that's right." "No, I shan't;
I will pay what I ought, and won't pay any more." "Come, come,
nigger, your fare and be done with it," said the conductor, in a
manner that is never used except by Americans to blacks. "I won't
pay you two dollars, and that enough," said William. "Well, as
you have come all the way in the luggage-van, pay me a dollar and
a half and you may go." "I shan't do any such thing." "Don't you
mean to pay for riding?" "Yes, but I won't pay a dollar and a
half for riding up here in the freight-van. If you had let me
come in the carriage where others ride, I would have paid you two
dollars." "Where were you raised? You seem to think yourself as
good as white folks." "I want nothing more than my rights."
"Well, give me a dollar, and I will let you off." "No, sir, I
shan't do it." "What do you mean to do then, don't you wish to pay
anything?" "Yes, sir, I want to pay you the full price." "What do
you mean by full price?" "What do you charge per hundred-weight
for goods?" inquired the Negro with a degree of gravity that
would have astonished Diogenes himself. "A quarter of a dollar
per hundred," answered the conductor. "I weigh just one hundred
and fifty pounds," returned William, "and will pay you three
eighths of a dollar." "Do you expect that you will pay only
thirty-seven cents for your ride?" "This, sir, is your own price.
I came in a luggage-van, and I'll pay for luggage." After a vain
effort to get the Negro to pay more, the conductor took the
thirty-seven cents, and noted in his cash-book, "Received for one
hundred and fifty pounds of luggage, thirty seven cents." This,
reader, is no fiction; it actually occurred in the railway above
described.
Thomas Corwin, a member of the American Congress, is one of the
blackest white men in the United States. He was once on his way
to Congress, and took passage in one of the Ohio river steamers.
As he came just at the dinner hour, he immediately went into the
dining saloon, and took his seat at the table. A gentleman with
his whole party of five ladies at once left the table. "Where is
the captain?" cried the man in an angry tone. The captain soon
appeared, and it was sometime before he could satisfy the old
gent, that Governor Corwin was not a nigger. The newspapers often
have notices of mistakes made by innkeepers and others who
undertake to accommodate the public, one of which we give below.
On the 6th inst., the Hon. Daniel Webster and family entered
Edgartown, on a visit for health and recreation. Arriving at the
hotel, without alighting from the coach, the landlord was sent
for to see if suitable accommodation could be had. That dignitary
appearing, and surveying Mr. Webster, while the hon. senator
addressed him, seemed woefully to mistake the dark features of
the traveller as he sat back in the corner of the carriage, and
to suppose him a coloured man, particularly as there were two
coloured servants of Mr. W. outside. So he promptly declared that
there was no room for him and his family, and he could not be
accommodated there at the same time suggesting that he might
perhaps find accommodation at some of the huts up back, to which
he pointed. So deeply did the prejudice of looks possess him,
that he appeared not to notice that the stranger introduced
himself to him as Daniel Webster, or to be so ignorant as not to
have heard of such a personage; and turning away, he expressed to
the driver his astonishment that he should bring black people
there for him to take in. It was not till he had been repeatedly
assured and made to understand that the said Daniel Webster was a
real live senator of the United States, that he perceived his
awkward mistake and the distinguished honour which he and his
house were so near missing.
In most of the Free States, the coloured people are disfranchised
on account of their colour. The following scene, which we take
from a newspaper in the state of Ohio, will give some idea of the
extent to which this prejudice is carried.
"The whole of Thursday last was occupied by the Court of Common
Pleas for this county in trying to find out whether one Thomas
West was of the VOTING COLOUR, as some had very constitutional
doubts as to whether his colour was orthodox, and whether his
hair was of the official crisp! Was it not a dignified business?
Four profound judges, four acute lawyers, twelve grave jurors,
and I don't know how many venerable witnesses, making in all
about thirty men, perhaps, all engaged in the profound,
laborious, and illustrious business, of finding out whether a man
who pays tax, works on the road, and is an industrious farmer,
has been born according to the republican, Christian constitution
of Ohio--so that he can vote! And they wisely, gravely, and
'JUDGMATICALLY' decided that he should not vote! What wisdom--what
research it must have required to evolve this truth! It was left
for the Court of Common Pleas for Columbian county, Ohio, in the
United States of North America, to find out what Solomon never
dreamed of--the courts of all civilised, heathen, or Jewish
countries, never contemplated. Lest the wisdom of our courts
should be circumvented by some such men as might be named, who
are so near being born constitutionally that they might be taken
for white by sight, I would suggest that our court be invested
with SMELLING powers, and that if a man don't exhale the
constitutional smell, he shall not vote! This would be an
additional security to our liberties."
William found, after all, that liberty in the so-called Free
States was more a name than a reality; that prejudice followed
the coloured man into every place that he might enter. The
temples erected for the worship of the living God are no
exception. The finest Baptist church in the city of Boston has
the following paragraph in the deed that conveys its seats to
pewholders:
"And it is a further condition of these presents, that if the
owner or owners of said pew shall determine hereafter to sell the
same, it shall first be offered, in writing, to the standing
committee of said society for the time being, at such price as
might otherwise be obtained for it; and the said committee shall
have the right, for ten days after such offer, to purchase said
pew for said society, at that price, first deducting therefrom
all taxes and assessments on said pew then remaining unpaid. And
if the said committee shall not so complete such purchase within
said ten days, then the pew may be sold by the owner or owners
thereof (after payment of all such arrears) to any one
respectable white person, but upon the same conditions as are
contained in this instrument; and immediate notice of such sale
shall be given in writing, by the vendor, to the treasurer of
said society."
Such are the conditions upon which the Rowe Street Baptist
Church, Boston, disposes of its seats. The writer of this is able
to put that whole congregation, minister and all, to flight, by
merely putting his coloured face in that church. We once visited
a church in New York that had a place set apart for the sons of
Ham. It was a dark, dismal looking place in one corner of the
gallery, grated in front like a hen-coop, with a black border
around it. It had two doors; over one was B. M.--black men; over
the other B. W.--black women.
CHAPTER XX
A TRUE DEMOCRAT
"Who can, with patience, for a moment see
The medley mass of pride and misery,
Of whips and charters, manacles and rights,
Of slaving blacks and democratic whites,
And all the piebald policy that reigns
In free confusion o'er Columbia's plains?
To think that man, thou just and gentle God!
Should stand before thee with a tyrant's rod,
O'er creatures like himself, with souls from thee,
Yet dare to boast of perfect liberty!"--Thomas Moore.
EDUCATED in a free state, and marrying a wife who had been a
victim to the institution of slavery, Henry Morton became
strongly opposed to the system. His two daughters, at the age of
twelve years, were sent to the North to finish their education,
and to receive that refinement that young ladies cannot obtain in
the Slave States. Although he did not publicly advocate the
abolition of slavery, he often made himself obnoxious to private
circles, owing to the denunciatory manner in which he condemned
the "peculiar institution." Being one evening at a party, and
hearing one of the company talking loudly of the glory and
freedom of American institutions, he gave it as his opinion that,
unless slavery was speedily abolished, it would be the ruin of
the Union. "It is not our boast of freedom," said he, "that will
cause us to be respected abroad. It is not our loud talk in
favour of liberty that will cause us to be regarded as friends of
human freedom; but our acts will be scrutinised by the people of
other countries. We say much against European despotism; let us
look to ourselves. That government is despotic where the rulers
govern subjects by their own mere will--by decrees and laws
emanating from their uncontrolled will, in the enactment and
execution of which the ruled have no voice, and under which they
have no right except at the will of the rulers. Despotism does
not depend upon the number of the rulers, or the number of the
subjects. It may have one ruler or many. Rome was a despotism
under Nero; so she was under the triumvirate. Athens was a
despotism under Thirty Tyrants; under her Four Hundred Tyrants;
under her Three Thousand Tyrants. It has been generally observed
that despotism increases in severity with the number of despots;
the responsibility is more divided, and the claims more numerous.
The triumvirs each demanded his victims. The smaller the number
of subjects in proportion to the tyrants, the more cruel the
oppression, because the less danger from rebellion. In this
government, the free white citizens are the rulers--the
sovereigns, as we delight to be called. All others are subjects.
There are, perhaps, some sixteen or seventeen millions of
sovereigns, and four millions of subjects.
"The rulers and the ruled are of all colours, from the clear
white of the Caucasian tribes to the swarthy Ethiopian. The
former, by courtesy, are all called white, the latter black. In
this government the subject has no rights, social, political, or
personal. He has no voice in the laws which govern him. He can
hold no property. His very wife and children are not his. His
labour is another's. He, and all that appertain to him, are the
absolute property of his rulers. He is governed, bought, sold,
punished, executed, by laws to which he never gave his assent,
and by rulers whom he never chose. He is not a serf merely, with
half the rights of men like the subjects of despotic Russia; but
a native slave, stripped of every right which God and nature gave
him, and which the high spirit of our revolution declared
inalienable which he himself could not surrender, and which man
could not take from him. Is he not then the subject of despotic
sway?
"The slaves of Athens and Rome were free in comparison. They had
some rights--could acquire some property; could choose their own
masters, and purchase their own freedom; and, when free, could
rise in social and political life. The slaves of America, then,
lie under the most absolute and grinding despotism that the world
ever saw. But who are the despots? The rulers of the country--the
sovereign people! Not merely the slaveholder who cracks the lash.
He is but the instrument in the hands of despotism. That
despotism is the government of the Slave States, and the United
States, consisting of all its rulers all the free citizens. Do
not look upon this as a paradox, because you and I and the
sixteen millions of rulers are free. The rulers of every despotism
are free. Nicholas of Russia is free. The grand Sultan of Turkey
is free. The butcher of Austria is free. Augustus, Anthony, and
Lepidus were free, while they drenched Rome in blood. The Thirty
Tyrants--the Four Hundred--the Three Thousand, were free while they
bound their countrymen in chains. You, and I, and the sixteen
millions are free, while we fasten iron chains, and rivet
manacles on four millions of our fellowmen--take their wives and
children from them--separate them--sell them, and doom them to
perpetual, eternal bondage. Are we not then despots--despots such
as history will brand and God abhor?
"We, as individuals, are fast losing our reputation for honest
dealing. Our nation is losing its character. The loss of a firm
national character, or the degradation of a nation's honour, is
the inevitable prelude to her destruction. Behold the once proud
fabric of a Roman empire--an empire carrying its arts and arms
into every part of the Eastern continent; the monarchs of mighty
kingdoms dragged at the wheels of her triumphal chariots; her
eagle waving over the ruins of desolated countries; where is her
splendour, her wealth, her power, her glory? Extinguished for
ever. Her mouldering temples, the mournful vestiges of her former
grandeur, afford a shelter to her muttering monks. Where are her
statesmen, her sages, her philosophers, her orators, generals?
Go to their solitary tombs and inquire. She lost her national
character, and her destruction followed. The ramparts of her
national pride were broken down, and Vandalism desolated her
classic fields. Then let the people of our country take warning
ere it is too late. But most of us say to ourselves,
"'Who questions the right of mankind to be free?
Yet, what are the rights of the Negro to me?
I'm well fed and clothed, I have plenty of pelf--
I'll care for the blacks when I turn black myself.'
"New Orleans is doubtless the most immoral place in the United
States. The theatres are open on the Sabbath. Bull-fights,
horse-racing, and other cruel amusements are carried on in this
city to an extent unknown in any other part of the Union. The most
stringent laws have been passed in that city against Negroes, yet
a few years since the State Legislature passed a special act to
enable a white man to marry a coloured woman, on account of her
being possessed of a large fortune. And, very recently, the
following paragraph appeared in the city papers:--
"'There has been quite a stir recently in this city, in
consequence of a marriage of a white man, named Buddington, a
teller in the Canal Bank, to the Negro daughter of one of the
wealthiest merchants. Buddington, before he could be married
was obliged to swear that he had Negro blood in his veins, and
to do this he made an incision in his arm, and put some of her
blood in the cut. The ceremony was performed by a Catholic
clergyman, and the bridegroom has received with his wife a fortune
of fifty or sixty thousand dollars.'
"It seems that the fifty or sixty thousand dollars entirely
covered the Negro woman's black skin, and the law prohibiting
marriage between blacks and whites was laid aside for the
occasion."
Althesa felt proud, as well she might, at her husband's taking
such high ground in a slaveholding city like New Orleans.
CHAPTER XXI
THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH
"O weep, ye friends of freedom weep!
Your harps to mournful measures sweep."
ON the last day of November, 1620, on the confines of the Grand
Bank of Newfoundland, lo! we behold one little solitary
tempest-tost and weather-beaten ship; it is all that can be seen
on the length and breadth of the vast intervening solitudes, from
the melancholy wilds of Labrador and New England's ironbound
shores, to the western coasts of Ireland and the rock defended
Hebrides, but one lonely ship greets the eye of angels or of men,
on this great throughfare of nations in our age. Next in moral
grandeur, was this ship, to the great discoverer's: Columbus
found a continent; the May-flower brought the seedwheat of states
and empire. That is the May-flower, with its servants of the
living God, their wives and little ones, hastening to lay the
foundations of nations in the accidental lands of the
setting-sun. Hear the voice of prayer to God for his protection,
and the glorious music of praise, as it breaks into the wild
tempest of the mighty deep, upon the ear of God. Here in this
ship are great and good men. Justice, mercy, humanity, respect
for the rights of all; each man honoured, as he was useful to
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