Our World Or the Slaveholder's Daughter Part 5

Touched by this anxious reply, Maxwell determined to know more of her feelings-to solve the anxiety that was hanging upon her mind, and, if possible, to carry her beyond the power that held her and her child in such an uncertain position.

"I meant into the house," said he, observing that Ellen was not inclined to favour Clotilda's feelings; and just at that moment the shrill sounds of a bugle summoned the party to the collation. Here another scene was enacted, which is beyond the power of pen to describe. The tables, decorated with wild flowers, were spread with meats of all descriptions,--fowl, game, pastry, and fruit, wines, and cool drinks. Faces wearing the blandest smiles, grave matrons, and cheerful planters,--all dressed in rustic style and neatness-gathered around to partake of the feast, while servants were running hither and thither to serve mas'r and missus with the choicest bits.

Toasts, compliments, and piquant squibs, follow the wine-cup. Then came that picture of southern life which would be more worthy of praise if it were carried out in the purity of motive:--as soon as the party had finished, the older members, in their turn, set about preparing a repast for the servants. This seemed to elate the negroes, who sat down to their meal with great pomp, and were not restrained in the free use of the choicest beverage. While this was going on, Marston ordered Rachel to prepare fruit and pastry for Ellen and Clotilda. "See to them; and they must have wine too,"

whispered Marston.

"I know's dat, old Boss," returned Rachel, with a knowing wink.

After the collation, the party divided into different sections. Some enjoyed the dance, others strolled through the pine-grove, whispering tales of love. Anglers repaired to the deep pond in quest of trout, but more likely to find water-snakes and snapping turtles.

Far in the distance, on the right, moving like fairy gondolas through the cypress-covered lagoon, little barks skim the dark surface. They move like spectres, carrying their fair freight, fanned by the gentle breeze pregnant with the magnolia' sweet perfume. The fair ones in those tiny barks are fis.h.i.+ng; they move from tree to tree trailing their lines to tempt the finny tribe here, and there breaking the surface with their gambols.

Lorenzo, as we have before informed the reader, exhibited signs of melancholy during the day. So evident were they that Franconia's sympathies became enlisted in his behalf, and even carried so far, that Maxwell mistook her manner for indifference toward himself.

And, as if to confirm his apprehensions, no sooner had the collation ended than she took Lorenzo's arm and retired to the remains of an old mill, a few rods above the landing. It was a quiet, sequestered spot-just such an one as would inspire the emotions of a sensitive heart, recall the a.s.sociations of childhood, and give life to our pent-up enthusiasm. There they seated themselves, the one waiting for the other to speak.

"Tell me, Lorenzo," said Franconia, laying her hand on his arm, and watching with nervous anxiety each change of his countenance, "why are you not joyous? you are gloomy to-day. I speak as a sister-you are nervous, faltering with trouble-"

"Trouble!" he interrupted, raising his eyes, and accompanying an affected indifference with a sigh. It is something he hesitates to disclose. He has erred! his heart speaks, it is high-handed crime!

He looks upon her affectionately, a forced smile spreads itself over his face. How forcibly it tells its tale. "Speak out," she continues, tremulously: "I am a sister; a sister cannot betray a brother's secrets." She removes her hand and lays it gently upon his shoulder.

Looking imploringly in her face for a few minutes, he replies as if it were an effort of great magnitude. "Something you must not know-nor must the world! Many things are buried in the secrets of time that would make great commotion if the world knew them. It were well they pa.s.sed unknown, for the world is like a great stream with a surface of busy life moving on its way above a troubled current, las.h.i.+ng and foaming beneath, but only breaking here and there as if to mark the smothered conflict. And yet with me it is nothing, a moment of disappointment creeping into my contemplations, transplanting them with melancholy-"

"Something more!" interrupted Franconia, "something more; it is a step beyond melancholy, more than disappointment. Uncle feels it sensibly-it pains him, it wears upon him. I have seen it foremost in his thoughts." Her anxiety increases, her soft meaning eyes look upon him imploringly, she fondles him with a sister's tenderness, the tears trickling down her cheeks as she beholds him downcast and in sorrow. His reluctance to disclose the secret becomes more painful to her.

"You may know it soon enough," he replies. "I have erred, and my errors have brought me to a sad brink. My friends-those who have indulged my follies-have quickened the canker that will destroy themselves. Indulgence too often hastens the cup of sorrow, and when it poisons most, we are least conscious. It is an alluring charmer, betraying in the gayest livery-"

"Lorenzo," she interrupts, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Tell me all; remember woman's influence-she can relieve others when she cannot relieve herself. Make me your confidant--relieve your feelings."

"This night, Franconia, I shall bid a painful good-bye to those familiar scenes which have surrounded my life,--to you, my sister, to those faithful old friends of the plantation, Daddy Bob and Harry.

They have fondled me, protected me, played with me in my childhood, led me to my boyish sports when all was bright and pleasant, when the plantation had its merry scenes for slave and master. I must go upon the world, mingle with strange life, make experience my guardian. I have committed a crime-one which for ever disgraces the honourable-"

Crime, crime, crime! weighed itself in her mind. "And what of that?"

she rejoined, suddenly; "a sister can forgive a brother any crime; and even a lover, if she love truly, can forget them in her affections. Do not go upon the world; be a man above crime, above the bar of scandal. Have confidence in yourself; do not let the injustice overcome you. Once on the world a wanderer, remember the untold tale of misery, speeding its victims to that death of conscience burning unseen."

"Nay, Franconia, you mean well; but you have not learned the world.

Take this as my advice, remember it when I am gone, and in years to come you will acknowledge its truth--Fortune at the south rests on an unsound foundation! We are lofty in feelings, but poor in principle, poor in government,--poor in that which has built our great republic. Uncertainty hangs over us at every step; but, whatever befall you, stand firm through adversity. Never chide others for the evils that may befall you; bear your burdens without casting reflections on others,--it is n.o.bler! Befriend those who have no power to befriend themselves; and when the world forgets you, do not forget yourself. There is no step of return for those who falter in poverty. To-night I shall leave for the city; in a few days you will know all." Thus saying, he conducted Franconia back to rejoin the party, already making preparations to return.

He gave her an insight of his troubles, in such a manner as to create deep agitation; and, although satisfied that an event of more than ordinary magnitude was at hand, she could not a.s.sociate it with the commission of crime. The day, spent with all the conviviality of southern life, ended amidst the clang of merry voices, and soft music: a gay group a.s.sembled at the bank, ready to return under the cheering influence of music and moonlight.

The bugle sounded,--the soft notes of "Home, sweet Home!" followed: the party, forming into double file, gay and grotesque, marched through the grove to the barge. Servants, old and young, were in high glee; some joining in chorus with the music; some preparing the barge, others strewing branches and flowers in the pathway, to the delight of young "mas'r" and "missus,"-all singing. Aunt Rachel, high above her minions in authority, is poised on the bank, giving directions at the very top of her voice. Daddy Bob, Harry, and Dandy-the latter named after "mas'r's" fleetest horse-are freighting their young "missusses" in their arms to the boat, s.h.i.+elding their feet from the damp.

"Now, mas'r, Old Boss," Bob says, directing himself to Marston, after completing his charge with the young ladies, "Jus' lef' 'um tote, old mas'r safe da'? So 'e don' mus e' foot." And forthwith he shoulders Marston, lands him like a bale of cotton on one of the seats, much to the amus.e.m.e.nt of those on board, sending forth shouts of applause. The party are on board; all is quiet for a minute; again the music strikes up, the barge is gliding over the still bosom of the fairy-like stream.

The sun has just sunk into a fiery cloud that hangs its crimson curtains high in the heavens, shedding refulgent beauty over the dark jungle lining the river's banks. And then, twilight, as if stealing its way across the hills, follows, softening the scene.

Soon it has gone, the landscape sleeps, tranquilly arched by the serene vault of a southern sky. Everything seems peaceful, reposing, and serene; the air breathes warm and balmy, distributing its invigorating influence. The music has ceased, nothing but the ripple of the water is heard; then the stars, like pearls suspended over the dark surface, begin to glimmer and s.h.i.+ne. Above all is the moon, like a silver G.o.ddess, rising stealthily and shedding her pale light upon the calm glow.

Onward, onward, onward, over the still stream, winding its way to the great deep, they move; and again the music echoes and re-echoes through the forest, over the lawn; dying away in chimes that faintly play around us. The sudden changes in the heavens,--monitor of things divine,--call up in Lorenzo's feelings the reverses of fortune that will soon take place on the plantation. He had never before recognised the lesson conveyed by heavenly bodies; and such was the effect at that moment that it proved a guardian to him in his future career.

It was near midnight when the barge reached the plantation. Fires were lighted on the bank, negroes were here and there stretched upon the ground, sleeping with such superlative comfort that it landed ere they awoke. One by one the parties returned for their homes; and, after shaking hands with Marston, taking an affectionate adieu of Franconia (telling her he would call on the morrow), lisping a kind word to the old negroes, Lorenzo ordered a horse, and left for the city. He took leave of the plantation, of its dearest a.s.sociations, like one who had the conflict of battle before him, and the light of friends.h.i.+p behind.

CHAPTER VI.

ANOTHER SCENE IN SOUTHERN LIFE.

IN the city, a few miles from the plantation, a scene which too often affords those degrading pictures that disgrace a free and happy country, was being enacted. A low brick building, standing in an area protected by a high fence, surmounted with spikes and other dangerous projectiles, formed the place. The upper and lower windows of this building were strongly secured with iron gratings, and emitted the morbid air from cells scarcely large enough to contain human beings of ordinary size. In the rear, a sort of triangular area opened, along which was a line of low buildings, displaying single and double cells. Some had iron rings in the floor; some had rings in the walls; and, again, others had rings over head. Some of these confines of misery-for here men's souls were goaded by the avarice of our natures-were solitary; and at night, when the turmoil of the day had ceased, human wailings and the clank of chains might be heard breaking through the walls of this charnel-house. These narrow confines were filled with living beings-beings with souls, souls sold according to the privileges of a free and happy country,--a country that fills us with admiration of its greatness.

It is here, O man, the tyrant sways his hand most! it is here the flesh and blood of the same Maker, in chains of death, yearns for freedom.

We walk through the corridor, between narrow arches containing the abodes of misery, while our ears drink the sad melancholy that sounds in agitated throbs, made painful by the gloom and darkness.

Touching an iron latch, the door of a cell opens, cold and damp, as if death sat upon its walls; but it discloses no part of the inmate's person, and excites our sympathies still more. We know the unfortunate is there,--we hear the murmuring, like a death-bell in our ears; it is mingled with a dismal chaos of sound, piercing deep into our feelings. It tells us in terror how gold blasts the very soul of man-what a dark monster of cruelty he can become,--how he can forget the grave, and think only of his living self,--how he can strip reason of its right, making himself an animal with man for his food. See the monster seeking only for the things that can serve him on earth-see him stripping man of his best birth-right, see him the raving fiend, unconscious of his h.e.l.l-born practices, dissevering the hope that by a fibre hangs over the ruins of those beings who will stand in judgment against him. His soul, like their faces, will be black, when theirs has been whitened for judgment in the world to come!

Ascending a few steps, leading into a centre building-where the slave merchant is polished into respectability-we enter a small room at the right hand. Several men, some having the appearance of respectable merchants, some dressed in a coa.r.s.e, red-mixed homespun, others smoking cigars very leisurely, are seated at a table, upon which are several bottles and tumblers. They drank every few minutes, touched gla.s.ses, uttered the vilest imprecations.

Conspicuous among them is Marco Graspum: it is enough that we have before introduced him to the reader at Marston's mansion. His dark peering eyes glisten as he sits holding a gla.s.s of liquor in one hand, and runs his fingers through his bristly hair with the other.

"The depths of trade are beyond some men," he says, striking his hand on the table; then, catching up a paper, tears it into pieces.

"Only follow my directions; and there can be no missing your man,"

he continued, addressing one who sat opposite to him; and who up to that time had been puffing his cigar with great unconcern. His whole energies seemed roused to action at the word. After keeping his eyes fixed upon Graspum for more than a minute, he replied, at the same time replenis.h.i.+ng his cigar with a fresh one--

"Yee'h sees, Marco,--you'r just got to take that ar' say back, or stand an all-fired chaffing. You don't scar' this 'un, on a point a'

business. If I hain't larned to put in the big pins, no fellow has.

When ye wants to 'sap' a tall 'un, like Marston, ye stands shy until ye thinks he's right for pulling, and then ye'll make a m.u.f.fin on him, quicker. But, ye likes to have yer own way in gettin' round things, so that a fellow can't stick a pinte to make a hundred or two unless he weaves his way clean through the law-unless he understands Mr. Justice, and puts a double blinder on his eye.

There's nothing like getting on the right side of a fellow what knows how to get on the wrong side of the law; and seeing how I've studied Mr. Justice a little bit better than he's studied his books, I knows just what can be done with him when a feller's got c.h.i.n.k in his pocket. You can't buy 'em, sir, they're so modest; but you can coax 'em at a mighty cheaper rate-you can do that!" "And ye can make him feel as if law and his business warn't two and two," rejoined Anthony Romescos, a lean, wiry man, whose small indescribable face, very much sun-scorched, is covered with bright sandy hair, matted and uncombed. His forehead is low, the hair grows nearly to his eyebrows, profuse and red; his eyes wander and glisten with desperation; he is a merciless character. Men fear him, dread him; he sets the law at defiance, laughs when he is told he is the cunningest rogue in the county. He owns to the fearful; says it has served him through many a hard squeeze; but now that he finds law so necessary to carry out villainy, he's taken to studying it himself.

His dress is of yellow cotton, of which he has a short roundabout and loose pantaloons. His s.h.i.+rt bosom is open, the collar secured at the neck with a short black ribbon; he is much bedaubed with tobacco-juice, which he has deposited over his clothes for the want of a more convenient place. A gray, slouch hat usually adorns his head, which, in consequence of the thinking it does, needs a deal of scratching. Reminding us how careful he is of his feet, he shows them ensconced in a pair of Indian moccasins ornamented with bead-work; and, as if we had not become fully conscious of his power, he draws aside his roundabout, and there, beneath the waist of his pantaloons, is a girdle, to which a large hunting-knife is attached, some five inches of the handle protruding above the belt.

"Now, fellers, I tell ye what's what, ye'r point-up at bragin'; but ye don't come square up to the line when there's anything to put through what wants pluck. 'Tain't what a knowin' 'un like I can do; it's just what he can larn to be with a little training in things requiring s.p.u.n.k. I'm a going to have a square horse, or no horse; if I don't, by the great Davy, I'll back out and do business on my own account,--Anthony Romescos always makes his mark and then masters it.

If ye don't give Anthony a fair showin', he'll set up business on his own account, and pocket the comins in. Now! thar's Dan Bengal and his dogs; they can do a thing or two in the way of trade now and then; but it requires the cunnin as well as the plucky part of a feller. It makes a great go when they're combined, though,--they ala's makes sure game and slap-up profit."

"Hold a stave, Anthony," interrupted a grim-visaged individual who had just filled his gla.s.s with whiskey, which he declared was only to counteract the effect of what he had already taken. He begs they will not think him half so stupid as he seems, says he is always well behaved in genteel society, and is fully convinced from the appearance of things that they are all gentlemen. He wears a semi-bandittical garb, which, with his craven features, presents his character in all its repulsiveness. "You needn't reckon on that courage o' yourn, old fellow; this citizen can go two pins above it.

If you wants a showin', just name the mark. I've seed ye times enough,--how ye would not stand ramrod when a n.i.g.g.e.r looked lightning at ye. Twice I seed a n.i.g.g.e.r make ye show flum; and ye darn't make the cussed critter toe the line trim up, nohow," he mumbles out, dropping his tumbler on the table, spilling his liquor. They are Graspum's "men;" they move as he directs-carry out his plans of trade in human flesh. Through these promulgators of his plans, his plots, his desperate games, he has become a mighty man of trade.

They are all his good fellows-they are worth their weight in gold; but he can purchase their souls for any purpose, at any price! "Ah, yes, I see-the best I can do don't satisfy. My good fellows, you are plum up on business, do the square thing; but you're becomin' a little too familiar. Doing the n.i.g.g.e.r business is one thing, and choosing company's another. Remember, gentlemen, I hold a position in society, I do," says Graspum, all the dignity of his dear self glowing in his countenance.

"I see! There's no spoilin' a gentleman what's got to be one by his merits in trade. Thar's whar ye takes the s.h.i.+ne out of us. Y'er gentleman gives ye a right smart chance to walk into them ar' big bugs what's careless,--don't think yer comin' it over 'em with a sort o' dignity what don't 'tract no s'picion." rejoined Romescos, taking up his hat, and placing it carelessly on his head, as if to a.s.sure Graspum that he is no better than the rest.

"Comprehend me, comprehend me, gentlemen! There can, and must be, dignity in n.i.g.g.e.r trading; it can be made as honourable as any other branch of business. For there is an intricacy about our business requiring more dignity and ability than general folks know. You fellers couldn't carry out the schemes, run the law down, keep your finger on people's opinion, and them sort o' things, if I didn't take a position in society what 'ud ensure puttin' ye straight through. South's the place where position's worth somethin'; and then, when we acts independent, and don't look as if we cared two toss-ups, ah!"

"I wonder you don't set up a dignity shop, and go to selling the article;-might have it manufactured to sell down south."

"Ah, Romescos," continued Graspum, "you may play the fool; but you must play it wisely to make it profitable. Here, position puts law at defiance!-here it puts croakers over humanity to rest-here, when it has money, it makes lawyers talk round the points, get fat among themselves, fills the old judge's head with anything; so that he laughs and thinks he don't know nothin'. Listen to what I'm goin' to say, because you'll all make somethin' out on't. I've just got the dignity to do all; and with the coin to back her up, can safe every chance. When you fellers get into a snarl running off a white 'un, or a free n.i.g.g.e.r, I has to bring out the big talk to make it seem how you didn't understand the thing. 'Tain't the putting the big on, but it's the keepin' on it on. You'd laugh to see how I does it; it's the way I keeps you out of limbo, though."

We have said these men were Graspum's "men;" they are more-they are a band of outlaws, who boast of living in a free country, where its inst.i.tutions may be turned into despotism. They carry on a system of trade in human bodies; they stain the fairest spots of earth with their crimes. They set law at defiance-they scoff at the depths of h.e.l.l that yawn for them,--the blackness of their villainy is known only in heaven. Earth cares little for it; and those familiar with the devices of dealers in human bodies shrink from the shame of making them known to the world. There was a discontent in the party, a clas.h.i.+ng of interests, occasioned by the meagre manner in which Graspum had divided the spoils of their degradation. He had set his dignity and position in society at a much higher value than they were willing to recognise,--especially when it was to share the spoils in proportion. Dan Bengal, so called from his ferocity of character, was a celebrated dog-trainer and negro-hunter, "was great in doing the savager portion of negro business." This, Romescos contended, did not require so much cunning as his branch of the business-which was to find "loose places," where doubtful whites see out remnants of the Indian race, and free negroes could be found easy objects of prey; to lay plots, do the "sharp," carry out plans for running all free rubbish down south, where they would sell for something.

"True! it's all true as suns.h.i.+ne," says Romescos; "we understand Mr.

Graspum inside and out. But ye ain't paid a dime to get me out of any sc.r.a.pe. I was larned to n.i.g.g.e.r business afore I got into the 'tarnal thing; and when I just gits me eye on a n.i.g.g.e.r what n.o.body don't own, I comes the sly over him-puts him through a course of n.i.g.g.e.r diplomacy. The way he goes down to the Mississippi is a caution to n.i.g.g.e.r property!"