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The down-trodden, or, Black blood and white

page: (TitlePage) [View Page (TitlePage) ]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page (TitlePage) 4 THE DOWN-TRODDEN: OR, BLACK BLO0ODANB WRITE. BY WALTER SKETCH. BEING IN PAR?. RELATED TO THE AUTHOR BY '"NELSE " FUGITIVE SLAVE PUBLISHED NEW-YORK: BY JONATHAN MILLER, JR. 1858. / xi -~ - ~-J~7~ ~~~\[A 5/ / I If /1 [~ /~ )3 page: (Table of Contents) [View Page (Table of Contents) ]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page (Table of Contents) '10 THE FRIENDS OF $IJFFERJNG. HUMANITY, TillS WORK ~s speeff4iijj ~l1$oI1b0~, BY THE AUTHOR. enteredd ac4x)rping to Act of Congress, and copyright secured, by WALT~1I SKETCH * j/fi CONTENTS. CHAPTER 1.-Slave Life...................... CHAPTER 11.-The Minister.................... CHAPTER 111.-The School Teacher . CHAPTER IV.-The Sentence................... CHAPTER V.-The Tinkeys'.................... *CHAPTER YI.-The Buckeye Abolition Town.. CHAPTER YII.-The Letter.-Old Polly.-The Suicide. CHAPTER YUI.-My Father's Death, etc. CHAPTER JX.-Hennie, the Slave.holder's Daughter. CHAPTER X.-The Barbacue................... CHAPTER XI.-Blaek Anse.................... CHAPTER XII.-The Yankee................... CHAPTER XIII.-Authorship................... CHAPTER XIV.-The Slave Sale................. CHAPTER XV.-Thera, the Clergyman's Daughter. CHAPTER XYI.-Liberta~..................... CHAPTER XVII.-Politics.--The Duel............ CHAPTER XYIIL-Blind Crissey, the Cripple CHAPTER XIX.-The Editor................... CHAPTER XX.-The Minister and his Daughter. *CHAPTER XXI.-The T~o Orators............... CHAPTER XXII.-The Maniac and Murderes'. CHAPTER XXIII.-A Chapter Devoted to the Tinkeys' again. CHAPTER XXIV.-The Lovers. CHAPTER XXY.-Nelse. . CHAPTER XXYJ.-Renben Fairchild. . CHAPTER XXVII.-A Chapter of Horror. CHAPTER XXYIIJ.-A Thrilling Reqital. CHAPTER XXIX.-An Exciting Incident..' CHAPTER XXX.-Light and Shade............... CHAPTER XXXI.-Jerry.-Nelse.-The Escapes. CHAPTER XXXIJ.-Conclusion.................... CHAPTER XXXIH.-The Maid of Honor.~ . PAGE. * .9 * . 12 * .. 16 * . 18 * . 20 * . 22 .24 * . 26 * . 28 * 30 * * 34 * . 85 * * 36 * .38 * . 40 * . 42 * . 43 * . 45 * . 48 * 50 * . 51 * . 54 *1 * . 55 * . -*57 * . 59 * . 62 * . 67 * . '11 * . 73 * . 74 * . 77 1'; ii page: 0[View Page 0]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 0 F I. PR E~F A C E TEE history of the world is, and has always been marked by progression and regression. And as we see the wrld emerging from darkness, or retro- grading into ignorance and suVerstition, our sympathies are keenly a*akened. ~he present age, especially inour country, ia 'distinguished for great light, iind intense moral darkness. For it is a~fact that greatlyadvan~ed as 'We are in the! elen~ents of civilization in one ?ortio~u of the laud, there is ~* other pa~of us who are plunged into the Puto*iian gloom.of all ihat is fearful, idolatrous, and revoltin* In the. northern territory of the g~eat state of Texas, is a tract of country as large as the state of Tennesee, ex~ tending south from the cQrnerof Arkansas, near the Red 1~iver to the Am~r. icgn Desert, at the extremity of Indii~n Territory, which is compar~tively~Ul- explored, and about ~*hiohas little is known as the head ~ouro~. ef~l~. The inhabitants ooti~iat~ ot a mixture of IndiA~s, ~bi~ ~~roes, and they hai*e beco~neso amsl~amated that their complwoiu~ ak~ a light, o~pper color, their hafrs6ftan4 iong, and their beads are in formati~ like h~e~6f negroes-the back part projecting~the forehead 'sIopii~g..-~uek lips, axkd the other attributes of Africanism. ~Whey live by robbi ~4~d hold their degraded slaves (although they themselves are the most inferior) in a bou1~ ago more~fearful than the most diabolical tyranny practiced by the unlettered cannibal of the isolated isles of the Pacific. l~he following pages describe the varied scenes of Slavery. I have take& Kentucky as the~ section of my story, the evil being milder. tb~ere than ~n States further South. I have travelled over neari al~ of the S6iithern' and Western states, and from the careful and ri d observations which I have made, I state the circumstances here nariate~' This work is founded on facts: this I solemnly aver-I will not pretend to say that I have not embellished; but many of the occurrences I describe, - I have witnessed with m~wn eyes. Perhaps m,~uy'of my readershave also seen themselves, or iead in the journals of the day, concerning these tram.- tions. I have adopted the.double 1~arrative and Dramatic form something differ- ent from the resent style of writing. The reader can easily diatin~uish the narration of &e Slave, the remarks o~ thewrit4,and the descriptwe parts as follows. Chapter eight, "M~r Fath~r's Deatb" is entirely a /nihrration by Nelse, the Slave. Chapter sixteen" Libert$e ~ is the Auth9r'~ remarks. Chapter twenty-two, "The Maniac and Murder~r," is descriptive, and Chap. tsr three, "The School Teacher" embraces all-narrative, descriptive and commentive. K' page: 6-7[View Page 6-7]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 6-7 6 ~REFACTh .1 have endeavored to elucidate thus technically in order to remove all ob. security or amNguity. The hero of this tale, Nelse is still living, and I have faithfully followed the side of truth in his relation. The names of the persons are false names; for instance, the real name of "Morse," is Moore; a wholesale can~y" maker on, Main st., Louisville. ~RuskV is Rust, Lexington, Jawer; an so on, I have varied the real names throughout. Some ma~ ask, why is there not more negro language? The reason is with some exceptions that most of the slaves talk the English language as properly as we do ourselves. If any part seems to appear too violent, I solemnly declare that I have not treated of cruelties which would require the utmost stretch of credulity to believe, 'and;even then it would seem but the fanciful creation of some unreal droai~i. a glad. that movements have been made toward emancipation, but tJ~ese~ efforts have been hitherto so few and so feeble that they may be corn- pa~e& to~single d~ops.of rain aiuid a mighty shower. .The.dr~ps being phi- ~thyopy~-4he~iiow~ the dark piissions and cruelties of man. This, W9rki8 i~o4tk ,esultof. other work~-.-as "Uncle Tom's Cabin"- "Aunt Phillis's 1O~hi~n"-~.--'~ Uncle Tom as he is"-" Uncle Tom in England," ~ evaporations. The most readable one being the afore- sai~1 work of Mrs,'$t~we. '~iLtiie ~ontrar~, I have been years in getting upthe~eincidents. I have tray- oiled wtiiasae4 this institution of serfdom, in' all of 4ta lights and shades, ~ud in~v temente&~ be corroborated. In writing this w~rk, if I correct on~ nnsguided view.-one false prejudice, I am happy.-A.l~aP~y in the con- soioiisness~of 4oing ~ '%mall good." And ,now, with this introduct sud i ~ema1n ~ ion, I~indly leave you to other reftections, THE~ AUTHOR., l~ingston, on the Hudson, 1858. A., ,.'. ..~ : '~I A] 3) TILE DOWN-TRODDEN; ORD BLACK BLOOD AND WilITE. CHAPTER I. SLAVE LIFT. "Nzznr~xss is it to say that Iwas grief, when he was unnoticed by all, born a slave. For forty long years save me. have I toiled beneath a burning sun. "Time ~passedpn, an4fl grew to be -~ The life of the slave is indeed a hard a boy; very 4eh resembling my life, and, reader, I ask your sympathy father; my2elderbrother also increi~s- -I crave your pity while I give this ed in size; but my poor litge lilack plain recital. (Read a . sister Crissey, wQs~&oripp1&-deforru~ "My master's name was Duverne, ed' in shape and distorted in feature; of L-n, eky, and here with but I loved the forsaken ohild (fox a brother au sistersiny young my heart always learned oward~4l~ life passed w~ward happily-happily afflicted,) and w en she hM.. ~ do I say. I was then too young to with cufts and harsh words, she oa~e know aught'%of the misery of this to me with sobs, and I co~nin~higl~J world. my tears with hers~-.~then we woulfl "The first words I spoke were talk of a happy land5 #nd a mighty Bella I Beller I (For the slave is never king, ofj whom the white minister taught to call the holy word-mother) preached every Sunday, in the small and affectionately did that mother brick church on the road-side. If we watniu over her young offspring: r~y would do right, we would go. to that father I saw only once a week, as he land. And there was ilo hot sun lived many* miles distant, and' (his there-and massa '~never whip master permitted him to leave only poor nigga there-nigga~ was white o~.. Sunday. He was ~aiu unusually the; and all would be happiness& tall, handsome man, and when he Thus we would talk hour after hour smiled he showed two rows of regu- -poor slavel God may pity thee if lar teetlt~s white as pearls, and his xpa~i does not. eyes bad. a soft look of sadn~s, (per- "My~ otber sister, Ads, was a haps it was on account of his ixuelan~ strange creature-her complexionn choly situation,) and I have seen a was very light-her Ahalr :was long, single, tear course down his dark, soft and cur ~ng-and. her large e es shining cheeks,. and drop npon his shone witKau intense ~ han~l, as he turned away to hide his m~and missis, ~ogr page: 8-9[View Page 8-9]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 8-9 (A~ THE DOWN-TRODDEN; OR, BLACK BLOOD AND Wffl~. young master, 'Verni, and his sister Hennie, seemed to regard her as one of the, family; indeed, she was nevei permitted to assoqi~te iyith tl~e otl~i slaves, although s~e~as'4qt~ ~!liw~ed to receive instruction in any of the branches of literature. "Such was the train of circum- stances and companions who sur- rounded ~te~ At .tb~ ageof tw~lve, I knew. whi4~ it was ~ be a slave, Ia- boring incessantly with others under the argus eye ol~ the overseer, and in- haling the noxious effliwia of Aecayed tobacco. All visions were at an in- stant dispelled, and young as I ~; I looked forward to a long life of toil- toil-toil. And for what I God alone knows.-No object in view-No hQpe tih expectation;' but the thought of working for~vermore. There was Miss~ennie, she ~was~ ~it~d'~to me, and in soft words rind 's~ieet smiles threw a~ sunshine ~ ~y~'inexi't,~whewothers turned away. ~he~cliose for4nerc~wn attendant, an~1 ~this in a measure relieved my at- tentim to other ~luties. In' time, I ~b&iame so a~cuetorned to my lot that' 'I~ e~nd~avi~red~te ianey that I was'ivell' eit~ttated, &ii~I ha~ ~n6 ground of corn- ~~pint. Gentle i~ead~r, think not that ~m exaggeri ing, erwish to excite your sympathy' f~r the slave. No, the poor slave deserves no sympathy 4-he is too' ldw-too much like the' Kbsute creation to require even the no- tic'e of~the w~rld~ itis ~id that he hae no feelings-that he can neVer lee tiliove hi~fallek condition.~ I wish to God thatAt was so-I wiph that he I was~an Automat&n-.4 wish that tle alave-rkuother'was a block of marble, ~nn inanimate bein~-4 i~'inh~that the child torn fr6m her arms waa~but a lifeless clod of~artli, and then---then indeed, would otir. situatiOn beKallevi- ated. For then rthe i~orance of our mipe --41e deprivation of feel- ~ag ~ould~ '~n inestimable blessing. J:~' '~ Then would the cries of an outraged humanity ascend to Heaven's throne no more. "My nature wasgentle and timid'; lut' n~y ~brothqr from *his earliest years was fierce and implacable. He would sit all day long with his face 1~uried in his hands, and no threats, punishment or coaxing could induce him to' leave his gloomy career. Thus he grew up a dangerous andre- sentful man; the terror of master and overseer, though on account of. being born in the family, he was in no danger of being sold, unless he became entirely unmanageable. Ife shunned the light of the sun, he wan- dered in the night through the fields, and spoke to none except ~Iaster Verni, to whpm he was attached body and soil; for oncewben he had fallen jnto the stream that fiow~4 through the plantation 'Verhi'~e him fr , scued pmdrowning after great exer- 'tio~s, for 'tha Al~iine1' *aa wide deer.. ~v~r sin~ that 'time he at- tended the y ~ii~t~ntly, and to have died for hi ~~lie height of his ambitioni. ' ' "In the niorning whether light of daywas upo~n th4'~ea4h~ aind the 1kw- era filled with dew bent *lieirlieads to the ground, the slaves came o~u~ froxi their cabins to resume their ~ while the #amily w&r~e ',~ti1 ph~nged in sleep. ]3ut'.whcn the ~broad rays of the~ sun poured dowp, 'then 'the slaves returne&to their m~al, pnd th~ sister 'unite'~& with 'the faxiily in praye~; f9ri~r. D~nverne was a mciii- ber of the ~i3aptist ~hui~h-4~ow much tie prayei~ ~f such a man aya~eth ~wi knos~ nri: Although the oppress- ed .s~iffering beings at the door eating their corti4read, )vere famishing for the Bread of Life, yet they wO.re ds- barred, for they had no pi~rt nor lot in the matter-'-not they'! 'For '~what need had a SLAVE of 'religion. No, they must suffer in thus~ world all that man cam suffer, and after death go to' other torments-who cares 1' "On Saturday eve, all seems life and gaiety. The sound of fiddles is heard upon the still air, and ringing' la~ighs seem to tell that the slaves are happy. Happy! Hal ha I If you would ~cal1' it happiness to have your body torn apart bypiece-meal- to have your very existence slowly evaporated by 'inhaling destroying poisons, then in the sense' of' the' word is 'the slave happy. 'The ;bh~ deprived of its liberty and confined' in the narrow eage sings joyfully- the felon chained in the narrow cell' cracks his rude jests. But what is it. I call it philosophy to bear up under' heavy trials, and in this tthe' slave is justified." (We are Americans. Our fore- fathers shed their blood, and lefttlleir lifeless bodies on the gory field, 'for what?' For LIBERTYLWe 'boast to other nations o~ what? of our re- ligious freedom, and ~political liberty. We talk about aiding the' oppressed nations of the earth to throw off the shakles o~ the ~pressor, when at our ve*d~orsth~re is the most tyranni- calZ4he most damning features ~f enslavement that ever existQd.){' '"About' this time, Orissey fell sick, and my mother and myself watched over the sufferers through her long nights. of pain. She 'prayed for death-for her poor outcast, 'why' should she wish ~o linger 'longer here below. But d~li came not to her aid-she recovei~d; but 'the disease had left ,her. 'blind, Yes,'blind. To her the beauties of Natur ' eve for- ever shut from view, all '"' black &her own dark , th its flitting ~hadows. But h r. ess saved' her * from mnany'a mel sight. She saw not the bleeding, lacerated back of the slave of the plantation, although she heard his groans. She saw "not the angry features of those whose words fell harably around lne~ way "I loved my afflicted sister the more for her calamities, and she lis- tened for my Ooming footsteps witin an eagerness that told how deeply I was beloved by her. I took her hand and we wandered forth together- "Nelse !~' said she--f"I hear the seng~ ~f birds, and the music of the rnp- pling of the rills-I 'f~el the soft bree- zes ;' 'but I see nothing.. lThe woriti seemed beautiful 't6 me before nly eyes 'became sightless, send He who presides over these beauties, must be good-must be great'; 'though when I kok aroundiu~d see man so crueV-- so ungrateful I am pained. But 'T feel'hap~iy, Nelse-even now, since I have 'been blind, and I know tl~& Go4' lovesune, as I lovehiun, and~ and' mother,'and massa, and the who~a world; 'th~iugh I ~m 'but 'a heljslees slave, of 'no use to any human h~ ing!' "' Talk not ~o!" I b'i~oke in-" Cria-4 sey, I love' you. 'I shall endeavor make you happy while [live 1" OHAPTE~II ~I. ma ~xrsrna Tins Reverend Roulien Fairohild' was the minister wino preached in th~ small brick church. He was a v~y tall, gentlemanly man, of about jI~y years of ~e. His features be with a holy light, his blue eyea ~ 7 with tend~riiess upon his fellow~in~ and though greyhairs were thick uj~On his head, he still possessed great vigur, and a resolutioivthat nothing could overco~ne. He was one of the few- veryfewwhopmacticewhattheypreaelz. He visited 'this station but once a. p #4 page: 10-11[View Page 10-11]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 10-11 J 10 THE DOWN-TRODDEN; OR, every four weeks, the rest of his time dience dispersed-some to their homes being engaged in Indiana, where his in the village, and others rode rapidly family resided. On *the Sunday in away to their far distant residences. question he was here. The church Nothing is more uncommon than on windows were raised, and the cool Sabbath mornings to see on an open breeze fanned the~ aristocratic slave- plain (in Kentucky) a log meeting- holder, and ruffled the gay ribbons of house, miles away from any human his wife and 'daughters. A few ne- habitation, with i~ signs of life around, groes skulked around the dgors in at the appointed hour, thronged with order to catch a few words of the dis the people; while others-'old men course-" As ye would that men and their sons; mothers and their should do to you, do ye also to them daughters, with a young slave behind likewise." My hearers, this is the them on horseback, are approaching "golden rule.", If this principla~was in every direction. followed, misery would cease in the The minister accompanied Mr. Du- world-then would man cease. to op- verne to his house, and after partaking press his fellow. Selfish thoughtss of a' hearty dinner, the family ad- and selfish i&~tions would give place mourned to a parlor and the planter to purer motives. The world would and Mr. Fairchild enter~l into conver- appear Iwighter to our eyes, a~t4 aation~ Miss' Heniiie being the only when the quivering spirit was about listener present. They topic ao~ to leave its earthly tenamdnt, we' changed from religion to slavery, in coiAd look back t4a 'long life of good all of its bearings. deeds,~' and days spent in dispensing "I'adrtit," ~said Mr. Duverne, "that blessings around. After death, tears Slavery is a' enrse to our state; be- would fall upon the grave, and the cause free labor cannot come into. world would~ say, there 'lies a good competition with~ stave labor, and x~a1kj' and his *orks do follow hiin~'~ therefore, very few emigrate to Ken- "Do unto others as you would be tucky in search of employ. If I had done by." To. 'do this, enter the a'. pair. of horses cii my hands, it is. cabin of the poor man, visit the sick, not very likely that I would engage and comfort the afflicted ~* imitate my neighbors team, even though they that One who has given us such a weie superior to my twn; tl~at would glorious e~alnple.~' 'Do not these not be economy. Yes, Mi~4~airchild, ~4J~ings by agents-Advocate not that I adrtit~t~twe ~iave a great evil *liich you do not put in practice.- amon~ this is shown in the case Oppress not your fellow man." of 01 ~n&ndiana..-Kentuckey i~' '(How these last words must 'have mucii"t~oldeststate,*U4 was thickly ~ted on the planters ears. i3ut I setth'd when they had no settlements f'erget.. The slave is not a fellow be- within' their territory. But mark the i~sg; so it cannot refer ~q 'that.- result-they have outstripped' us in "~Tl~e. tender mercies of 'this'. 'wicked every im vernent, and to use an ox-- are. ~cruel." If .the down-trodden pressie .. d Kentuck is no-whar." sitetild dare to assert~a single"right- 1 tell ~" ominie, that we, would if lie, should refuse to perform a corn- ha ' oi~r slaves, long ago, if m~nd, whyl What mattera'if 'he was it ha no 'eeii~ or the Abolitionists, knocked ~in the head, to recover if his We will never be forced int~ measures. thick skull could resist the blow, and And I repeat it, Dorninie, that it is to-DIE if otherwise.) the fault of the Abolitionists-the The sermon having ended, the au- Abolitionists-do you understand I" 11 And here the worthy Mr. Duvern bulged out hisXnouth, and inflated hi cheeks with air like a bladder, while hi small grey eyes twinkled with a wor derful knowing look, as much as t ny-" What do you think -of that'- The Abolitionist-Eh I" Seeing that the clergyman mad no reply; but looked steadfastly up on the floor, the speaker moved hi chair clover, and looking quietly~ around the room, laid his hand upoi the other's arm, while his voice sanl t~ a whisper-" The Abolitionists." "Mr. Duverne, I wish to speal frankly with you. I will tell m~ thoughts without fear-" "Right I Kentucky principle- frankness 1" '~ Well, Mr. Diweme, ugain. Esrei since the world existed, there ha~ been Abolitionists. The Saviour him- self, was an Abolitionist. He came into the world to abolish sin and misery. The Reformers who have followed, made it their object to abol- ish false systems of worship. Men have used every means to abolish in- ~'m prance. And now these Aboli~ onists of whom you talk, saw that Slavery was a damning blot upon the land,~ and abolished it in their own 'states; and 'not content with this they are now using their exertions to eradicate it from their sister states, thus obeying the dictates of con- science, and the "higher law" of God." "But! but! ~r. Fairchild, in do- ;~lfig~tJ~is, they l~e6onie guilty of diso~ ~6eying the laws of the land, or in other words, th6y commit treason- treason-I say treason. Now as a true and loyal subject of reat Republic, 1 hold myself bonn to obey its laws, and the moment I refuse to comply with the requisitions, then do I annul my allegiance, and become amenable." "Following that train, we come to 4.. a ' IA Le a theorem. If the law directed you is to "cut off' your own head," or slay is a brother would you do it! No I L- Then you would obey other laws, than o those of the land. You would look - to self-preservation, and the diction of affection. Then,. Mr.. Duverne, e should we not obey the laws of reason, and of humanity. In this it is but a s weak argument 'to throw the blame ~ upon the shoulders of the innocent I" "But they are too rash-these same Abolitionists. They seem to demand a general' manumission wheth., er it is our will or net, and therefore' we will resist and show that we not entirely at their mercy I" "Yes 1 Mr. Duverne, so have 'phi- lanthropic motives always been op- posed. Evesi the great ~ner~ and all other reformers, have ,thus met with violent resistance. And now, by your own assertions, (here the voice of .the minister became loud, his eye lisshed, and his whole form yielded to his emotions,) I de~ilare that this ty- rai~ny is the blackest; the me~t ,sinful thM has ever held a reign. Oifr4ea are opened to' its enorjnit~ knd we have not"~he excuses of th~ ~illiterats barbarians of former ages. I say that a just Ruler will, hold 'the Opw presser to a fearful account." (The words of the clergyman fell to.a me- lancholly sadness, and a'tear'~listened through his.eye lashes.) Yes II have seen the ~joor slave chained 1to the post, and whipped until he-DIE1~ Aye! di~'d. And when he begged for time to pray, the brutal laugh of the overseer ~was followed by t~ie blood-reeking lash. Theii 'his 'corse was thrown into a hdle in the ~ound with less cerem~y than we would bury a dog. 4~ in this case-the murderer escapea4by the payment of a small fine, an~~ was not' ex- erted.' And wh~ ~e~anse' it was a SLAVE I Such be ra but I have~eon this oco renceb It BLACK BLOOD AND WHITE. page: 12-13[View Page 12-13]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 12-13 TIlE DOWN-TRODDEN; OR, i~ these thingss, Sir, that has sickened instruments of death, and thirsting ftmn * me, ,and no wQrds can I find to ex- his blood. prcs~ 'i~iy abhorrence of Slavery and Recovering from their intimidation, r~ *idv6cates I" ' with cries of "Down with the Aboli- As the last words were uttered-a tionist," they bore upon, him, and af. ~hade dark as night overspread the ter he was overpowered and bound, features of Mr6 Duverne. "Miscreant they carried him to the, house of Mr. -vile Abolitionist-~.is this the man- Duverne, in order to await his pun- ner in which you violate the rights of ishment on the morrow, which they hospitality. Leave my roof. Go-" had agreed should be lift7 lashes on burst from the planters.lips. Hennie .his bare back. fledfrozn the room But that God, whom he worship- "SirP' said Mr. Fairchird-." I can ed, did not desert him in this his l9~ve yo~n roof. Leave it never again hour of need,~and he 6felt assured toreturn.' So'wiqi my kindest .wish- that aid, would come, though from n '3Tour 'ref&mation, I 'bid you which quarter he k~iew not. ~gocd-bye I"' And taking his hat, J~$~h a by bow, he left 'the house. The minister's non-chalance enrag- ~4 ~the slave-holder the i~ore, and by this tiruetheialarm having spread, a zuarr4er 'of the neighbors were as- OIIA~TER III. senlbled. They came up with the "Douiinie" 'on the 9i.itekirts of the' TES sonOoL-'nEAOHER. ~wn. ~' Gentlemen 1" said he slowly and WALTSII HORTON, the district school ~l~n~y-~-" You come to me with wea- teacher was a New-Y~rker. He had po~I h~ve n~n~e. 'But ~[ will not be left'his native state, and wandered to arrested' b~K~n~n'withoui a warrant of the western wilds, where his intelleotu- ~uthor~y 'for~~conunitting no crime. al attainments, and fine nianniers had Remembe~'yoi ale Christian8,~ofess- mad~ many friends, and at the time Qdly+I am a minister of the gospel we write, he was the installed tutor at and this is th~ holy sabbath of the' the seminary of 'L-~-. Loxd, ~c not" g~niity of sacrilege by -' 1~e was a favorite with all~ (espe.. perpetrating violence now 1" daIly the fair sex,) and indeed, so 4 thick-set, barley 'man made a "westerafied," had he 'become thai pass at l~im with a bowie-knife; he w~ recognisal as belonging to his which he warded off with his arm; adopted State, and none ever regarded than st9oping down, he grasped the him as an Abolitionist.~. M8aa~t, and raising him into the air Ue bad long paid~'his addresses to. with a powerful 'effort, h~ dashed him flennie Duvenne, and hen first love to the ground with such force that was in his possession. Her affections the man lay stunned-blood gushing were not easily won; but when once 'from his iiose and ears. The rest for awa ~, they shone 'forth an inten- a few moments st()04', back intimida- city enlisted her energies-soul ted. ~' "~ and body.' And that was a~~i1ime spectacle. One moon-light night~ (it was in That holy my~l~ t~iie look of hea- Autumn,) the lovers were seated to- yen upon ~ ~~onfronting these gather in the porch. The' i~cst had 'enra~e4 zn~ 'o were brsndishing retiredand not a lain~ was burning t BLACK flLO( on the plantation; all was quiet. M attention was directed to the sound o voices. I 9auti~s1y approached then and concealed myself behind, agrap vine. Hennie was looking, up at the ugh clouds; her face was ghastly pah sad the moon~beanrs played upon he white marble forehead. 1'he school teacher was by her side, his dan eyes bent upon her, and his lips quiv ering as if he was about to speal "Hennie 1" And at that word, she started fron her reverie, and in the dim moonlight' I thought that I saw tears upon he~ cheeks. He took her hand in his "This hand," he continued," I hac hoped would one day be mine. Ii was for your love that I labored da~ and night in learning to be good. I ~thought that I must be niltanited tC claim the regard of one so beautiful so calm, so good. And jiow I have won you; but you cannot become the wife of Walter Horton, for you refuse to leave yQur father; though you say th~tpu have changed yOur views about S1avory~; and t~at~our heart bleeds at'the i~vrozkga of ~laves. Now Hennie, decide." "Walter, I have listened to ~oii.+- God alone knows how I love you. 'It is notlove-it is more-it is idoltry. I think that no human being ever loved so wildly-so madly. I have watched for your coming, and when you came, I was happy. When you was by my side, my ear drank in the poetry of your oonvematio; with~ its low, dee p tones, thrilling to my heart. You wish me to leave my home-the scenes of my child d, and ~o with you to your Northe ome; no won, den I refuse, I woul there be, alone; people would look on and call me your Southern bnido, and I would be unhappy-. no, you Walter I would not be unh~pp~and now I a swer yow-J will go. Life is!~othing~ )D A1~fl WH1TE. 1$ y to rue if you are gone. So at the f end' of your six months, I will b~ 1, yours-a wedded wife." e I will pass over the next transports. But from that time, the brow of Wab-' .t ten Horton seemed to grow brighter, ~, and Hennie-she 'would ~o caroline r about the house, joy irradiating every feature. If the name of Horton was ~ mentioned, she would suddenly hesi- tate-blush, and then with a smile, r murmur to herself, "I am his I" Mr. Duverne approved of the i match, and the marniagewas 'to come L off when the school-term had expired. But alas kthe fatality of human cal.. culation. I Mn. Horton had, during his' servi.~ ~es been secretly advocating the pnin.. oiples of libertyto the down-trodden slaves. Sewould sit witI4h~m hour aft~r hour instilling into their minds ,the rights' of'mair. ~AnA they listened with int~iise', eagerness, ~while their dank countenances lit up with indig.. nation at a sense of their many wrongs~ ~ those who s~vel'6* (There may condemn the sebool-master for' stxi'. ring up a spirit of discontent, and tmrg~ 'itig the eervant to h~ave his' lawful owner. But if you say' tl~atthe'negro is' not a man, you will surely allow ~ he ip (an animal,) th'en-fille4 with life-invested with reason, and besi'- ing the similitude of our glorious Re-. deemeZ thus marking him from the instinctive creation. Then an you Name 'him for wishing to leave a life of endless servitude, where 'his very life blood is slowly exhausted beneath an iron rule. If it was' ,a small na- tion endeavoring to throw off ' i~s kingly allegiance, how our sympathies would be enlisted., Wewould receive the fugitives intY 'o "r bosoms. Our public men wouldui ~great dinners, and guzzle d~w~x to ~oW~4nj~tg againstt all manner fei~ient.6 page: 14-15[View Page 14-15]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 14-15 THE DOWN-ThODDEN; OIL, BLACK BLOOD AND WHITE. If the nation against whom they had rebelled should demand them, imme- diately every warlike spirit would lay his hand upon ~he sword and answer lacceiically-"Oome' and take them." l3ut let the poor slave once dare to raise hi~ head-.-~-then witness the, burst of honest indignation from all classes. "Uup~ralleIed presumption." "Un- 'heard of. impertinence 1"- NO! it is too near home, we look for objects of charity which are far off, and if the "lowly one'~ should succeed in esca- ping, you say-" Bind him down- crash hii~ to the earth I" Then a "Fugitive alavo law" is passed to suit the pretended exegencies of the times. T~n~ tho s}~y9-hun~er and the kid- p~ prowl. , in - every direction, "seekizigwhoru. they may destroy,") - ortop, after conversed with my brothca, ~s~here are always many. opportunities to talkwitWt~ie negroes, the ihasters rarely having aii~yi~uspi- ci~ons. Afterlthese conversation, I observ- ed that Jerry became more gloomy t~p~i usual, -and he even seemed to iq~hia-affe~t~on for Master YernL '~'~iss Ee~nie, tog, -~was.- seen more thai~. ~isj~i ~rsong~ il~e ~laves, her- s*eet~emil~s and kind words cheering their forloz1~cor~diti9n.~ One night she called u~e to her room. "~TeIseI bring lpo"a glass of water 1" I~obey- edher, rand was about to leave, when sh~agai. called me, and. bade me to-~ be;seated. "Nelse,-would you like to be fr~?" - - ~% 1~ree, Miss ~Iennie ?" I exelabjied' with, surprise. ",What do you ~ Lme~n, Nelee, would you like: to le;~n~fath~ and go- to tha1~, lai;4 - whorr~W~on came from-where the colored I~persons are so kindly treated, a~id cared for I"- - "Where I will- not have to work any more, ~Ji~Hennie ?~' - - ~'Whe~e you will not work so hard as you do now, and where you will be happy." ",~ut I am too ~ung-only fl!- teen, and could not escape." "Oh! Mr. Horton and mysel$~ will assist you." - "No, Miss Hennie, you are very kind, but I cannot jeave, m~ssa now! Good bye." Fro~n - this time Mr~ Horton, and Hennie directed their attention to Jerry. ,Four of the six months had now passed away, and the lovers look- ed forward to the happy day on which they would be united forever. But fatal destiny! - Mr. Puver~i had been-Q~listener to the-school teacher's conversation with a slave, who -had repentiy been pur- - chased ~'~r the plantation~, His suspi.- cions were aroused, and he soon found owi ~the n~iscbief that 'Mr. Hor- ton; 1~d - don~-the lioi~ of his nature ro~ised, and he resolved that such a man shouldAi~ver possess k~s daugh- ter. Jn the. gl9omy recesses of his heait he; ~o~teinpjat.~d the perpetra- .tioi~ of 'a criment the~ecital of which we-shrixk back with lx~i'ror. -' - It~'was one 9f the1 wll4eet' winter days that -hid ever- hse~n in the ge~4-. clilne.. of- ~uc~y ; and tl~omgli-ther~ w~s-but--w.sligbt' crust o~ snow upon tbe -grouud4~ie small brooks were froz&over, ~nd the keen air Qut, into, the very flesh.' Anon the low win4~moaned fearfully ~Ipon th~ ea4b, an4 the overcast ~kies ~~trctch.- ing 'f~ir away in one yast di~l1 -mono. tony' bronze-.--eonverted the light of day into the gloom-of night. - ''On this. -Sa1~urday,~ -Mr. Puverne- haviug..~ome busin~ss -to transact at some distance'. as ;Ii.-~---, invited the school-teache to accompany him. ~The invitation - was- readily accepted, - and after diimer they-mounted their~. horses and left 4 use. After ridi ng. the main road for s9me.Aist&rice,~hey branched off into a bye-path in the woods. An eastern person has but - a slight idea of the roads out West. For miles you will squeeze through the-narrow openizigs of the forest, then mount- ing some steep acclivity on the other side, ~rou descend into a low valley, at the bottom of which you suddenly plunge into a swamp from which you find it difficult to extricate yt~urself. This is the reason that horse-back rid- lag is so universally in vogue in all of the southern and western states. The two riders continued in the narrow path, their way becoming mere and more 'tangled, till at length jhe thick brushwood and fallen trees prevented their further progress alto- gether. At the suggestion of Mr. Duverne, they both' dismounted,- and tied their horses. "We are now,'? -said Mr. as they proceeded --through the narrow openings. "-sixteen miles from home.' It is neiirly night, and I am right glad that our place of des- tination is well nigh at hand. Mr. Horton, I am as you -know a slave- 1 holder. The estate I now own is in-'] herited from my father who ~was of French descent,; though born in Virgi- nia. Coming in this manner into pos- session of a-large'- fortuneMr. Horton -1 what could I do? Itwouldnotbehuman 'I nature if a person would refuse such gifts,' and prefer t~ remain in absolute beggary; for, to tell the truth, I, al- though, a slave-owner, abhor the very n~ime of Slavery, and it is my firm re- solve to emancipate my slaves in' a few years, at' the 'longest. But ho! 1 Here we are I" - - And now they had arrived at a small log house, alu~ost hidden, from view by briars, underwood ai~d rocks, r It was a wild place, this spot. -Gi- gantic trees drifted by the 'lightening .1 into countless eplhrt~s loomed up I against the cold sky.; Huge racks I covered with the teen moss of cantw. r ries projected over yawning precipi- ces, and the wildness of the scenery was indescribable. That' small hut so still-.with no signs of life-so fbi away from any human habitation seemed to be a fit place for the ao- complishment of nefarious designs. '4vMr. Duverne !" exclaimed the now alarmed school-teacher. "Why have you brought me to this place? I feel a presentiment of evil, and I think that we had better return." "We will see 1" replied- the Ken- tucky planter as he disappeared be- hjnd the mound in front of the cabin. In a few moments he. returned with something that resembled a human being. He was diminutive in stature, not more than four :~nd a half feet high-he was humpbacked-his legs bent in the shape ofbows-his head res9mbled. a bullet in shape-in ph~c~ of eya lasbes, there' was a broad, red stripe 'upon - his eye lids-his nose seemed to have bean eaten off - by u~x~e disease, and the nostrils were b-*~;round holes in the centre ~f bli To continue the description. Longer, wquld be4o make this per.~ ~onage~ too, u tural for the ut.. nest atretcj~ ~n credulity. - -"Mi., ~~to -~ said the slave~ ~older,- "I hat' '~ t~izgl4you here for he purpose oftakin~ your life. Nay, start not. I wiW:gwe you, my rea- one. I have overheard your induce- nexits tomy slaves, and I found that ~ou, -whoni I~ least expected, was rhat we call an Abolitionist-a d-d abolitionist . For this I would have et you gone; but when, in a few Iaye, I thought that you would be united to my family, Inwore that no ~bolitionist blood should ever be singled with mine. I thought of onveying you away, and then telling lennie that you was false, and bid ier forget you; but then you might iave' returned and given the li~ ~to ny assertions. Finally I concluded / 14. 15 page: 16-17[View Page 16-17]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 16-17 18 THE DOWN.T' tb.decoy you away, and employ this i11ax~-" Oronkey of the Glen,'~~ to mifrder you. There *111 be no use of resistance, for wounds, which to any' other man would have been mortal, have been inflicted upon him without producing.death. By employing.this ~rson. I clear myself of your blood. men tell no tales, Cronkey I" The ashy cheek of the school mas- ter became almost livid with fear- 'his eyes were overspread with a glassy film; and his lips 'essayed in vain to sjeak. He fell upon his knees, and his lmnds were clasped asin prayer. The deformed Kentuckian primed 'his' rifle,, and slowly raising. it; his' siunll ferret eye gleamed along the 1*i~ht barrel, with an expression of he&rt-felt satisfaction; the next pio- ment the silver sight was upon a line with Horton's, the hammer elickeck ~hd the latter fell backwards. A amall, thick spout of dark blood gush- ed' from the wound, made by the ball. "Mr. Duverne 1" said the dy- hi~ man, "come to me-new heark- eii~ May God forgive you this heavy sin ~as' I forgive ycu. It was 'too etuel-it was too h to doom me to a~fate like th' ~eut me elf in 'th~ viger of my d .t~m innocent. holy niothei~ wlic~W~tehed over my infancy, implanted. {nto my mind a feeling of. compa~5iou for the fallen slave, and no mereei~ary motives insti- gated my charities. To t~at~mother, and a gentle sister, I would send alast message; but you would not deliver it;' so my dying moans alone may be wafted to that far off home. It is better, perhaps, though that they know not my fate. I feel faint. Sl~adows are around me.. God have mercy ~as I do upon you. Mr~ Dii- that-" And there was a convulsive shud- der of the form; a contraction of the mmcles-~-.a gurgling in the throat, af- RIDDEN; OR, ter which a stiff corse-starl~ and cold lay upon the ground. The murderer and the accessory stood mute by the lifeless body. The silence was at length broken by the planter-" Cronkey, it is now' night; we must throw this carcass into the Glen." And they carried the dead man to the edge of the high cliff, and with an effort they threw him over. The face, so ghastly white, seemed to look upon them for an instant, us it turn- ad upward through the dim obscuri- ty, with a grinning smile. The deed was#done, and the mur- muring winds whispered to those guilty men as they sto~d like statues, a tale of future retribution, saying- "Vengeance is mine, I will repay!" At intervals, they fancied they heard the dying groans of the murdered vie' tim ascending from that darkgulf, and an indefinable terror took possession of their s~ulk CHAPTER IV.. T11~ 5fltTTEiTOE. IT was now deep midnight and the household were bu4ed in the arms of slumber. The clock on the shelf with its 'ceaseless ticking sounded loudly through the still apartment in which the Reverend Reuben Fairchild was confined.. That ,aid which he thought was so far distant was now, nigh at hand. By the dim light, he saw arfemale form glide 'softly into, his chamber. It"'~was Hennie Duvern~. She~ ap- prcached the bed,' and"*'hispered into his ear.-" Mr. 'Fl~irchild I:have come to release you I,' With these words she severed the th~6ngd ~whicIi bound j BLACK BLOOD, AND WHILE. 17 him, and led him noiselessly out of Oh Lard-! oh de 'possels! I'se feels the house. "Now, I. ask not your so good. Bress de Lord I Oh golly I thanks, but when 'far ~away give a Nigga's safe dis time-good bye, Ole thoughtforthe slave-holder'sdaughter, Massy I" and invoke a blessing upon l~er head And the affectionate' creatures from that Power whom youworship capered and danced likO lunatics, with sudi noble devotion; and who while tears of joy streamed down their has raised up a friend for you from cheeks. They clung around 'the the midst of your enemies, who had ministers neck, and seemed to have determined to wreak their cruelty been transported from~ a gene of'~ upon you I" despondency to a world of bliss. "God bless you my child. Rest Perceiving the necessityof caution assured ~that I will supplicate the they travelled silently along during throne of grace for your sake-and the remainder of~the night, and when may the Lord save you, and reward morning began to appear' they, you with an endless salvation 1" branched off from the main r9ad, and "Go now l for morning will soon entered a rough, roe 'unculti- 1q here. Keep the road, 'aud you will vated field, where they fortunately dis. arrive at the river in safety., Fare- coveredone of 1tlmse large caves (whi~h' well l" are so namer in~~the~imestoiie bets4' "Farewell!" ' of l~entucky) into which they'eii'ter~4~ And the next moment the clurgy- l~y means of a flint and tinder a light~" man was gone. It was a starless was strruck, and wandering on in thee' night, and flying clouds of inky black- ~looni~ depths, a large room ifrtli& ne~ss obscured the light of the moon. side of the I rocks~ was found. II~ete Notwithstanding the many difficulties they, lay during ~the d~y without 'ar; he strode rapidly forward. He had morsel of~jf&odfeaatip~ of the thoughf.~ gone about eight wiles, when his at- of~so6n obtain~ r tension ~x#a& directed to sounds of 'At nigiif~'' Liberty. whispering along tha road-side. He journey4 ~th~it paused for a moment to look at two ~ g K~n# figures partly concealed by a ~board ~the~ tri&'Tav' ligU~, and coil- fence. .'The thought~, flashed across ceased them a amid the rocks~ his, mind that they~ were fugitive butnow th~ ~nawingsof liungei~ be: slaves. "Good people I" said he, came irresistible, an4~Mr. Fairchild "Come forth I perceive you!" left the~fu~itives 'in tbeh. hidin~pface Iminediat~iy two 'miserably 'clad while heiwent to a sii~ali farm house slaves-.-a m~i and wife emerged, from neal~ by, and obtained 'a loaf of lire~.d their hid~ig place, and falling upon He was suspected.-.followed, a~d die.- their kness in' the dust they broke 'covered. ~Ph~.maii returned horn~.-... forth into the most'abject petitions. mounted his "horse," and 'collected "Oh, Massa I I'se ' knows we's~ d&nie several neighboiu ~vli~o ~rooeeded to wrong-.-Spa~e de ni~a dis tin~ie ~aiid the sp6t de~igiia~ed, and took the'three he'll nebber run off ~ny more. I'se into custody. $'Frknkfort being( but a ''fraid ob do "cat" ow do no', day4- few rniles~o~ they were conveyed Oh, Massa! we'll be's good-'deed we thither; theclergyman to~ await' his will !" '' ' ' trial, and the slaVes to be retiu'n2ed ~ ~' Be not alarme&-. I ,am your their master ~S~niuel'~ Edward. ~oUt friend, ajid wilt assist' your escape !'~ Braeken~ countyy~; '~ ~'; U o~ 'A "Den you be's not Massa after all. This occurrence was noisedthrough- 2 .4, page: 18-19[View Page 18-19]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 18-19 1$ THE DOWN-TRODDEN; OR, oit the country, and many were the e~mmenta apon it. Profe'ssoi' of roligi9u denoi*nced' the R~iv. Reuben Fairchiid~ as a vile hypocrite. Little pop-gun newspaper editors demanded theexecution of the laws, while' the lqyeks of "4aw and order," lamented ov~r' the present "state of things," wj~hing te know, "what will become of~usiwhen ministers of th~ gospelaid m~runai~ off slaves?" It was too awful-tQo wonderful to think of. f4~he day of trjal' 'at' length' came. The ~urtr~oom was crowdedto excess tQ;h~5r the testimony. There sat the clergyman, 'cool, calm and 'collected. Di&lw~falter now? Thd"he fall back fro She 'dark scowling faces that ~Ve~turned upon him'? ~ No.' And' ~ lie was there t~ be tried-in a$~y~e~ 8itK~slave4iolding ju~0~-~4y a slave-holding jury, and a' slay~hoWngaudiance. Hi~ blue eyes as brightly as itdid when hewas an infant in the cradle, and. his silver hairs demanded reference,' even "i~rom that ~ough,~prejudic~d assemblage. The verdict Was soon rendered, and the judge standing proclaimed that the "Jury' ' 'd'~uben Fairchild guilty ~o~the sliwes of one. '~~l~' of BeokenridgeB~ack y,~y.tand that he was hereby sen riced to an Am- pri5onak~eiriof 'ten years in the Frank- fort ~I'enitentiaiy.'t~'; (Methinks th~at the hjind of that judge as heraised it toward heaven~ should have been palsied.-#nzethinks that a ~jury who could give 'such a decision~ would have been turned into fro~stati~es as solid as their own iron oosecienues. If they afterwards call- edAheniselvesine~aJ[ pity them. Men? Tlipse wlu could senterice a minister; whose person was consecrated to God, to t~ lingering existence, worse than deat~', for being' foundin the compa~ ny'of two slaves--they must indeed b nienl But with th~ assuranceof "battling for the right," in his own gloomy cell, 'he could f'~el a little heaven expanding the i~alls, and his spirit soaring beyond the confines of life. 'Yes! With the felons brand upon his brow, he cot~ld feel a thrill ofhonest pride' animating his soul. I love to defend those 'who have no de' fender. I love to lash the arrogant denounced. I 'love to draw down up-' on me the indignation of my oppo.. nents, and then laugh at their male.. diction. You maythink me mad-- you may think me non-cofnpbs-men-' tie, Iwish to Heaveii that it was so -that I was mad-mad with excite- ment-that I had a fiery pen to trac ineffaceable letters of fir~ upon this glowing page; then would the poor, toiling slave have an efficient advo- cate.). CHAPTER V. THK TINKEYS - Oux of the head men of L~---n, was Tinkey,' Esq.' "Blowing Tin-' key," as he was called. His extreme good nature '(for he had never been' known to get angry buti~nce, during"" his life,) and greaV wealth h~ad been K' the cau~e of promoting' him to xnauy' offices despite the "softness" that marked him 'from men~f "cents." 'Hewas 'a short, thick set man, of: great corpulency. His 'white' flabby lace, "had not' a hair, however, small ~npon it.' His eyes were of' a light'bliae, and aemall tuft of straight' "bristles" 'was butIi~d up into a pyr- amidical shape on the top~of'hi. head. If large ears is' any sign, then Mr. Tinkey decidedly belonged' to't.he "donkey tribe." He was now sitting in a~xxeatly furnished apartmentj ~e- fore a bright fire th~t binsed in the" I ( BLACI~ BLOOD AND WhITE. - 19 grate. His wife, an exact counter tart of himself was industriously knitting upon a stocking with varie- gated colors for "baby's," the two lit- tle beings that were seated upon the floor, playing with the "old tom- cat." Never were resemblances mbre striking-" like father--.like the fam- ily I" It was truly a fat house- hold. One held the feline creatures head, while the other tugged with might and main at the tail; the a~irnal bore this martyrdom with evident dis- like, as its low growls and struggles attested. At length, roused beyond en- durance, it uttered a fearful yell, and a battle ensued. Then there was scratching and pulling, and scream~ ing and cries of waw I" "The baby's-the baby's I" shriek- ed Mrs. Tinkey, as she rescued her "darlings" and placed them in the arms of her hu~~ ud; then seizing the tongs,: a rsuit commenced. When the enraged lady raised her weapon to annihilate the~" critter," it 1 was sure to dodge under a table or chair, and the blow:~Would fall upon the floor. Utterly' exhausted;~she. at length desisted; her p~rsecutioit, ~ud I took the scre~nilng "beauties" to her- self.- "The dear 'baby's-~.did the nasty cat hurt th~ babys? Mammy I give the ugly pussy a good whipping. t Mammy's baby's I" e Between Mr. Tinkey's ha I ha! hal ~ and the lady making a horse of each ~ knee, the two young' Tinkey's in time s regained theirequilibrium, and began ii to craw "Paw-waw"---maw-waw I" n The ~at also, being freed from her h troubl~s~m~ companions, crept under the s4 and ended this "melo-drama" d by Ii~*ing her fore paws. Atilils juncture, the door bell rang, T and~Mr. 'Pum Potter was ushered in. a Mt~r4h&eommon civilties had pass- u ad, thA~two:worthy gentlemen entered d~ into a conversation, about "Means and Measures." "M'~ Tinkey, I believe in 'Means and Measures.' That is to say-if-.-. that; Ah I I believe in Means and Measures l" "Yes I Mr. Potter, that's ~erloslphy. When this glorious Republic, with th~ stars and~stripes ten thousand centuries old, waving in 'grandiloquent' foJ~ above it's ancient capitals, ~alrbe sunk into the salt, briny waters of ob- livioiis, then will 'Means and Mea- ~ stand slantandicularly against the tall form of Mr. Justice, 'Esq., dis- claiming to the world of the triumph . of 'free principles and liberty I' Ain't it so Deborah, love? lie! he! he l~ And Mr~ lYinkey, 'whei~ he had concluded;' broke oiit~ in~to'liiactiAtoni- ary'laugii,~ with which he~a~'~4 ed his observations. "Yes I' Mr. Tinkey, I believe asyoi do-just the same Sir! That is to say, that 'freeprinciplne-and-and th~ other thing what do you call it?" and ~fr. Potter performed ~ garyda- ~ion with' his fore finger~ in the air. "Liberty, Z so' yea mea~-.- ~ori~us liber Potter I" "Oh, Yes y. I believe in hat too. ~nd Measures,' Meana and Measure."' The unschooled Mr. Potter, was leasedd with ~tlie '~s~ and most treacherous memory 'that ever belong- d to mati: In facthe could 'not're- nember this minute what had trans.~ ~red during the la~t; this3~l with bert sightedriess, and a f~. ess, rez~deied '-him a eiai inch note, though like the e ~*as*ealthy. After pursuing the thread ~f'this' discourse for some time, Mr. Tinkey iddenly ni.is-quoted a Latin phrase. 'his was a "knockklown argument ~ death-blow from which the gentle.. ian could not recover, so aftel~ ~ reusing a t~iw wotda t~ Mrs. I)SW~ page: 20-21[View Page 20-21]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 20-21 rah, he~ 'tciok his 'cane ' and hat, and loft the house. When the door had closed Mr. Tin- key ~moved his chair closer up to his wife,' and looking upon the now sleeping "babys," he rubbed his hands together. ei~claiming-" Deb, you 'ace how I 'always use up my supposers- I aiwas give them a 'poser, and thus come' ubiquos. Now I tell you that it is my intention to run for the legis. slater. Talents like mine must' shine out to the world.' Debby, love, I mean to be 'great. Il~e! he! he !" It was now ten o'clock. Mrs. Tin- key placed' the "innocents" into their cradle, afteiWwhich a servant was summoned to bring in refreshments. The viands being AqsPatched, the pair 'retire4~to yest~' to be 'disturbed with nightA'~re; ~nd visions of future prosperity and greatness. T~tis, in all grades,' and. con4itions of life; are~we looking forward tofu- ture happiness; building' castles in the, air. And how often' 'are these bright pencillings, and the cherished hopes:of years laid low in the' space' of one "short bitteiii~ur.". Crushed -4allen forever. ~' CHAIIQER VL T~E BUO~ETh ABOLITION TO~~f. Tun little town of J~-n, was' twelve miles from the Ohi~ river, and. equi-distsnt 'from the boundaries of Kentucky and Virginia, therefore, 'many' fugitive slaves fromfthese States passed through it on their way to the lakes. With that feeling of. 'humanity which- characterizes 'the eitiaens of the B4ckeye ~tate from their neigh~ bom; they no ~sooner resolve than they set. S~-in~ this case, they.bad seen the panting fugitive brought back through their village, bruised- bleeding, and manacled, followed by the' ruthless slave-hunter, to be con- veyed to their former hnne, there meet with still more brutal punish- ments, for daring to leave their state of serfdom. (~falk of the terrors of the Russian knout-of the pains of the Turkish bastinado, and they sink into insigni- ficanee by the side of the unheard of tortures of the down-trodden. And e'en as I write now-even now is the groans of the enslaved arising to Heaven, calling for mercy. - I say, they had ~een the poor slave -as he.bent beneath his heavy chains, and turned, his blood-shot eyes upon theni; hold out his manacled hands supplicating their aid, while the "hu- man flesh 4rOvers" behind with blows and kicks compelled 'him t~ quicken his pace.) I - And they ;were ~e~-the~e same Buckeyes,- They ~ and unan- imos~sly. swore that~ tV~ slave ~hould 'find 'friends in 'them.;.. ';That in the name of. God~4hey wo~ml& roll back the piirsuer-zne~ting force with force. That they would' reset~e 'the captive and if neOessary lay-4ewin theii~ lives in defenceof sufferinghumanity. You elcvato'yoWr'.hands apd your eye-brows, exclaiming, 'treason-rank treason I' It was treason 'when 'our forefath- ere ~t~1r~w o~' the' yokeio.f .J3i4tish ty- rawny, and pledged ,their li~Pes- heir 'fortunes-i-and their sa~redhonois for' the maintainamie of their prlnbiplOs. AnLnow, when laws are enacted- laws inhuinitn and nrinatnral+con flicting with our consciences, andthe "higher laws" of the g~e~at ~aWgiver -when resist~nee b~mes~ a duty, then it is called tt~~ps~n; If this is treason, then, let it-J~ tr~nson-.-glor~# ou~ treason! Theg were the eenti-. - ments of th~ Ohio Abolition town., 20' THE DOWN-TRODDEN; OR, BLACK 'BLOOD AND 'WHILE. 21 And soon were they to have their GET OUR AID! Now, Sir, I wish stability tested-soon was the ordeal to tell you and your gang, that th~ to be passed. sooner you leave, the better it will be It was a cold, bleak day in March for you I" -~the fitful gusts rattled the windows, The man was convulsed with pas- and whistled through the narrow crev- ~sion. "Infamous scoundrels !" he ices. The citizens preferred staying cried, hoarsely. "Aiid do you refuse in doors by their cheerful firesides me my slave?" and the streets, always so still, were, "We do 1" answered romaine , now entirely deserted. calmly. Suddenly the court-house bell "Well, then by '.G-, we'll have struck three taps, while the church him~~any how I Out with your re- bells commenced tolling. And, at volvers and knives, boys. NOW, down these sounds, every man grasped his with the d-. Abolitionis~. Eur- weapon, and rushed from the house, rah for Old Virginny 1" for they well knew the cause of this And with thes9 'words,,the hunters alarm, drew forth thei# weapozis, ~rsnd spurred The vigilance committee were al- their horses towards the crowd. But ready upon the ground. In a few they instantly fell back iwterror, for moments shouts and .curses, mingled as the (front ranhs of' townsmen re- with the clattering of horses hoofs tired~ they saw a lon~' lindof black were heard behind the hill; and pres- muskets covering thefr bodies. ently a tall negro, with his ragged ha- This. was more thai~ they had bar- biliments fiu~tering to the wind- gained"for, and the assailants put up straining 'every~e1~ve and sinew, was their instruments of death. seen fi in bef e a party of horse-, "Really, gentle men I" 'said the men, who wer~ close Upon his heels, leader, "I thought that you were un- "Stop! you macal, ~r we'll shoot you armed." down. Stop!" - "Isuppose you did 1" retorted Col. The fugitive continued his course Ooekburn. without h~eding them, and seeing-the ~ Well-..~-~well-well-we-we in- ~ownsmen assembled he threw him- tended no harm," the voice ot the self into their midst, utterly exhaust- speaker had fell to a more humble ed. tone, "and we earnestly beseech you "Good people I" said one, ~lio ap- to give up tay slave~Oon. As he is -peared to be the leader of the party the most valuable f~egro on the plan- -a large, noble-lo[Jking man, whxise station, and ~we have pursued him for appearance denoted him to 'be a weal- three d .ys. Now, when we have the' slave holder, "good people I I come up with hini~, 'you 'will 'not sure- am glad to see you thus assembled to ly take liini~out of our hands I" carry out the laws. I am in purs~iit Romaine again spoke forth. "Now, of my slave, and your aiding me in Sir; I will warn you again. You' this manner, I assure you that it seeWbefore you, fifty determined men, shall rtever be forgotten. Con, come in' a few moraents C my will be increas- out here-you rascal I" ed to three times tI at number.' We 'Erastus Romaine stepped out from will not do as you would' have done, among the freemen, and though his shed blood without warning. No! cheek was 'Ablanched, his voice was But I wish to say to you, that if you firm, ''and he' replied. "We 'mean ~re..not gone in o~1e? minute by tiw that YOU SHALL NEViI~R FOR- watch, I declare before a just G~4 20' -21 page: 22-23[View Page 22-23]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 22-23 U I 22' THE DOW~"TRODDEN; (YR, that your lifejess corpses will lie upon the ground~ and may the Lord have mercy upon your souls!" They looked for an instant at the in~reas~g crowd, .with the dark ximz- des of thQir gans .bea~'ing upon them, then into qachethers face and turn- ing th~ir horsesAi~eads,~ W4t~1i a y~ll of bufiled rage and 4isappoinj~nient, they galloped at full speed from the town. The slave-holder ai~d his six co~ppan- ions. (And that wa~ a~sublime. spectacle -that little town of six hun~ired ja- habitants resisti9~ a mighty nation, ~nd the example 'it set waa eoon fol- Iowedibj~o3thers At Christiana, the master and his son paying the ~jienal- ty with tl~eir own blood .P9r~aps thi~ eli~ptei n~y seem to a4voi~ate t&QvIo~t measures but that is not the ease, the scenes narrated have ac- tually occi.irred~ but it should,~e the wish of ali that Slavery, shall be ban- ished by gentle m~ians-"by the sooth- ing influence of religion. Then, when this dark atain was re~noved, a bright- era would dawn upon our land- tien the4acgers of~di~soiutio.w~ould vaaish, and i~ejoicing in the raillenial light of liberty, the .dowfrtredden would arise, and, stand erect with his fellow man.) CHAPTER VII. TUE LET'IER.-oLn AUNT ~'OLLY.-TiiE~ SUICIDE. Tnwznalls~h~ad been distributed, and all the "news-se~J~ ~rs,'~ except three or four had retired' frQm the office.- 8u~4enly an: exclamation ~mf surprise burst from thelips of the postmaster, 1~Ir. Jiarrox. "L~ooJr here, boys I" .Jie then 'ordered the doors to be se- BLACK BLOOD AND~~. surely fastened, and. with a look of mysterious import, added "boys, here is a letter from black Harry. Now you all know how to keep a secret. We will open it." They placed j~he candle before .themand opened? the missive. Had it been any other man's Letter that they opened, then would enqui- ries have been substituted, and woe be to the offender for, thus violating the Jaws. Oh'! but it was only.a slave, and so of course there was no harm iwencreaching upon his rights. The Jetter ran as follows DEAR ANSE :-I take my pen. in hand to let you know that Andy and myself. arrived at Amherstburg last ~Friday, safe and sound. So we are now free. I feel singular, and I am bewildered at seeing s~ x~any strange faces; but the people are very kind. 1 will endeavor to give a sketch of oi~r travels. Yo& snow that Ijleft on, "~pight; well, I travelled oi~ fo~t to ~r~n~kf~rt, wilero J met Aady, who ~as dowu -ou busi ness for his master, and had collected front creditors, near three hundred a~d twenty-eigl.it dollars. ~I found 'it no hard task~o persi~ade him to ac- company we in ~iy. flight. 56 ~' night, ~ye ivent on board of the steamer m~a~and by paying the watchman and three deck, }~an4s ten dollar~ apiece, they conoe~~led us in the com- panion-way. We arriye~ at 'Cincin- nati by day; light, 4nd left the b~at without being observed. We i~ere free-free, breathing ~he ai~r of free. dom. We continued our journey on foot, studiously avoiding th~ townshy the way, and only stopping occanion- ally to rest, or obtain refreehinent from the farm-houses. It was about. nooii, when we came in sight of Lake Erie, and the blue waters extending far away into the distance, seemed to unite with the sky. Our eyes were fllJed with tears, and we prayed to the great Creator; thanking him for pre- serving us from so many dangers. Three days more travel brought us here to Amherstburg-t.hank heaven, safe and sound. And now, give my' love to Bob, Larry, Jack, and Wash. Tell Wash that I expect him-.show him this letter, and conceal him. in your hut for a week or two-then, as they'll think that he has escaped, it will be easy to get eff undiscovered. Andy and myself send ~our love t~ you, old Aunt Polly, little Tomy, and Joule. No more at present.. Yours affectionately. HARRY. P. 5. Answer immediately.'~ "Now, boys!" said the postmaster, mechanically, . folding up the letter. "Ndw, we have some clue to the one's who are the cause of the recent escapes. Harry is out of our reach, * now, but there are others within our power; nowj- propose, that we get the papers nlade out~ and have the whole family sold ~or aiding and abetting runaway~slaves." "Agreed 1" said the rest, and the party dispersed to carry out their nefari6ua designs. Aunt Polly had originally belonged to a Mr. O'Neil, a very humane man, who gave her the chance of PuTchas- ing her libertyfrom the ext*:means that she~ could lay by. Slowly, but surely, the little savings accumulated, and at the end of fort~r eight years, she joyfully proffered the desired sum I to 'her owner. It was accepted, and she was 6'ee ~the winds. She had been twice. married; but both of her husband's had died. -She had a son by her first,, called Anse; now aged eighteen who belonged to 1 Squire Moody. Her other two, Tony 1 andJanie, were as yet mere infants. '~Her son, Anse, had? built her a cabin in a little glen in the woods, at a short distance from town, and here c she had thought of passing her last m 23 da in quietude and happiness. Be- ing free, ,she sympathized with the poor slave, and Anse, also had per- mitted fugitives on several occasions to remain harbored in the house of his mother. On the day following, as Old Aunt Polly. was seated in the door, with the little ones playing at her feet, she was surprised to see Constable Sliy- der approaching her, accompanied by two assistants. "How is you, Massa Snyder I" said the old negresswith 'her usual pleasant smile, and~. brushing down her apron as she arose from her seat. The ster~i officer was a man of few words arid without heeding her greet. ing, he replied. "Aunt Folly, piok up your duds, and ~bllow me, for you are to be sold to-morrow at lime o'clock. So make haste I" The flice of the negress changed from its blackness to a lighter shade; and pressing her hands against hey- temples asif to prevent their burst- in~, she staggered against the door- post, while a deep groan echoed from the depths of her very soul. ~(She wa& to be sold I Again was she to be a slave-she who had toiled s~ long-so hard for freedom ~was now to be 4epived of it forever. Thiy could not let the poor aged woman end her~1ast days~jn4 peace-.. no! they must ~drag her forth-her reeble limbs must .a~ain perform the heavy tas het~hildren muht be torn . from ~her bosbm, and. given to the unfeeli~g stranger! And here I must confess 'my feelings are so wrought up, that my shuddering na- ~ure si6kens at the recital. Oh, God!' tow V detest this tyranny, and as I proceed , it seems .to grow' darker; nore-hellish in its.outliuss until Ife~ t will be the ini~i~ ahlihatI atn describing th&deniona of 4iAiid~monl.. im-their character.-.-their wild 01- page: 24-25[View Page 24-25]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 24-25 24. THE DOWN-TRODDEN; OR, I- gies. But, no!' What I am sketch- iii~ is tine-aye, too true. W~uld to Heavetd that it were false.) "Come, Poll, it is now five o'clock, and we havi. no time to -spend in waiting~ It will be night before we get to town. So hurrah, Old one Mechanically the negress gathered up her two infants, and followed them, ihe uttered not a word but there was' a look of such utter despair-such en- tire hopelessness depicted upoii every lineament, that it seemed 'as if the sunshinee of life had vanished from her forever, and in its place was substi- tuted gloom, despondency and death. Fortwo mile~they continued their course, until they had arrived at the bridge,, ove*~ "Indian Creek." The .o~lcers were at ~a great distance ahead, for they~had calculated 'upon no' epppsition from a poor, weak slave. As the bridge was neared, a sinister smile played upon her features. The ~eonstable had already crossed and left the structure, and she was now upon the highest part. "Mass~a Snyder, I'se to 1e sold, ha! ha! 'ha! "You no catch Ole Folly dis time; I'se gawn to leave you, ~JTa! ha! htrl" ~' The inei~ rushed towards her) hut it was too late; 'for with a' fearful shriek, sha pressedd her babes ,to h~r breast, an~~s~rang from the. ~hridge~ The shri~ still sounded on 'the air, ~i~ngle4 with other screams as the' turbj7d, muddy waters closed over the. trio. "They rose to the sur- lace-a suppressed gnrglingr-a sound of strangulation aimd'. tji~ saiik to rise no mere."' The slave'~~ther, who had committed suicide to save herself and two infa~its from a- f~to of servi- tude, worsb than death. 'rho snperstructur'e2~vas full fifty leet above the stream, and ~there was 4~way of approaching. the' edge of Their ,thpse three men stoe~~~ve~ the railing into the '"'I' " ' ' ' ' current with straining eyes, as if they expected to see their victims again ap- pear. But in vain. Their bodies lay upon the bottom sands to come forth at the resurrection day. Thea what will be the doom of the guilty slave owner, wh~n confronted by those whom he has so deeply wronged. (I ween, that if he could he would be his slave's slave then, in the least and lowest seat of Heaven's high inher- itance.) 5' Come 1" said the bailiff, "our game is not bogged, after all. Well, more's the pity that Old Folly was such a fool. But come-.--spilt milk can't he helped. Let's be ~oing 1" And'they departed. But though no human being was left on that' Ibtal' bridge overshadowed by the dense:foliage of .gigantic trees, and surrounded with. huge rocks, there were holy eyes beaming through the gloom, and veiled faces were turn- ed away from man's enormities~ Poor Suici~le, thine was ~ and for thee ap~d thy Aanoeents now sleeping beneath the wave we drop a tear. But why recount-why add to this sorrowful story when, perhaps it conflicts with misguided views. Slave mother, we leave thee. 'All we can give ,is our prayers-.all we can do is to-pity I -~-' CHAPTER VIII. iSY FATHER'S .DR~TH, ETC. ONE night there' was a' fearful storm upon the earth. The tall trees bent before the blast, and ~the injit- tering thunder was proceeded 'b~ t~1he electrical flash. The sutuharged clouds were pouring~ d~~vn torrents of vain, and the impenetrable ~Iarkness' add~d if possible to the terror of the hour.' BIJACK BLOOD AND Wf~ITF1. 25 On this nig~lit, my father caine to other slowly down her dark cheeks. Mr. Duverne's to take his leave of his My mother' siit hi a corner with her wife and offspring, who were assem- face cushrouded in her aprdn, rocking bled at the lower end of the plantation. to and fro in agony. Ada, with her "I am going to leave you all. I large lustrous eyes, was looking upon am going to Canada. But I shall her dead father as if she could not ever think of you. When I sin in comprehend the meaning of death, that land, my heart will be turning her silk dress and ornaments, forming to my far-off .Kentucky home. It is a striking contrast to our homespun. hard to leave you, but ~I can remain My brother stood near, unmor~d, and here no longer. I have struggled unconcerned. with my feelings until I found it mad- We burial him that d~iy~ A rou~h ness 'to contend farther. Now, fare- pine' box enclQsed his remains. well !" And he bid us adi9u. 'When clergyman performed the funeral ser- his hand grasped mine it trembled vi- vices-no attendants, but a few slaves, 'olently, and by the lightning flash, I' were nigh. We shovelled in the saw that his features were haggard- loose dirt, and placed the green sods his teeth shattered together, aiid tears above that form, which in a few hours were upon his checks. He the strong before,~ had 'been buoyant with life man wept-wept like a child. While and vigor. all the rest were so strongly affected, Long years have now fled away, my brothers stood b~' unmoved. bu~ when I think of these scenes, I That night, sleep visited not my drop a tear for thee, my father. It eyes. There was~ a crashing in my' was hard for thee to die in thy man- brain, and everything seemed to be hood--'hard to have thy expectations whirling around me in a circle. thus cruelly blasted forever. But, The next. day, m~ father was whj'need i~ecount-others have their brought back, bleeding 'aiidjlying.- trials-ethers have their sorrows, and He had. been overtaken, and 'on re- in tints I Was to learn by bitter expe. fusing to stop, h~ was shot. 'The ball rieniie'-.In time, I was to drairi,'th~ taking effect in his right side. cup of 'adversity to its very dress~ He called us' to him. "Last night," Cris.~ey, my bliud sister,'had of late said he, "I told 'o~i that I was go- become unusually t~eiturn-no smile ing to leave yon~,fo~alandef freedom irradicated h~r d~k features as in now I am going 'eave for a Wright- day~of' yore, a~d ~bn my presence er and happieC'I , where freedoni'.brougiit to her no joy.' "C~ssey, I is eternal,'and.'*h'er~ the iiiaster is have pressed you to tell xrie~ the causa God. I knon~that I have done wrong of 3~oui~- grief; but you answer me in attempting to leave Massa, and not." Once, you loved me-once, ypu here I ware you all to remain as you said that~ v4~ati I was by your aide, are. 'Never be brought back in the you was '1~4ppy. But now-'-tho manner in which I am. Now, fare- change. Y5iir heads averted-~--when well forever. I am dying! I am-" I take your hand, you 'draw it away, And my father wa& dead. Ihad seen and when I speak to you-you weep his~ last struggles-I had seen the -do nothing but 'weep. Crissey, stroiy~'man' die. how can you use me th~s? Have I Our grief was, terrible. I wept not ever been kind to you? When. till I could weep no more. My sis- all others from you turned away, was ter Crissey, though she could not see, I not by your side? Thep, ~'tell stood by, tear after teai~ihasing 'each me what weighs down your spirits 1" - page: 26-27[View Page 26-27]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 26-27 26 fl~lDOWN-TRODDEN; OR, BLACK BLOOD ikND ~Wffl1~E. 27 "Nelse I', she exclaimed, passionate- ly, "I want to die I" "Die'!" "Yes! I would leave this ~verld of misery, where I. am a burden to myself and others. Life is hateful to me; Nelse, sincc "my fn:ther has died. And, but a few daysago, Maina told ue to begone, for' he 'had' no use for such 'a useless being as me. The swords fell fearfully 'upon my heart, and in a moment' I felt what a. help- less thing I was. I' felt that I was too hideous to lire.' I ~'elt 'that' I de- served not your kindhais, ~else, and it was this seus~ of my uiiwoithinees, 'that made your'presOnce 'unwelcome to'me. I see not why itis, that 'God makes some so' frahsoedently beauti- fAl,'an4 others~ ~'o horribly deformed. I' see x~ot why he shows' so~ many gifts p~n some, and depriveQ others of th~r all When I think of these things I am sosisdii ~inpted to ~nd fault with g~et4Being I ~iow that it is'Nvrong to'entemtain such feelings, but't2h4y will arise~ My ~u~1,es will soon ce4seihongh,,, 5~il ~iI~l J lie beneath tile groun~l, w~iere, as the good mi'nistkr~ used to say 'the wicked ceassfroi~i troubling, and the weary are at it The reader ifeed not ,be surprised at these sentiments in me, for Crissey and myself had been taught secretly by the 'school-mdster, Walter Hor- ton. These instructions we had irn- proved upon, andin time we became 'apt scholars. 'From this time, her demeanor 'changed, and a look of placid r9sign- 'meat w~is4eyer seated upon her coun- tenance. The shadows of desponden- ~cy 'had 'passed from her mind, and through. 'the live longuight sh~ pray- 'ed.~ Morniig came, and found her sight1~ss oihB turned towards Heaven, '(f&day Was night.'to her,) invoking 'tM ~bI~iod of the Lamb, which taketh away 'all stains," Whether they be of "black blood or white." Thus, day after day, passed on, and the long win- 'tar gradually emerged into 'spring.' stained, iorever haunting 'the dreary 'all classes; and 'having been imposed way. In dreams, remorse points a upon so many times by the inferno ~ trembling finger to ~the hour-~.the Yankees," they resolved to inffict date'-~the deed. The murderer Starts summary punishment upon the next at every sound;. his looks are wild I 'one' who fell into their midst. and haggard-his visioii reels, all mep When her father informed her of seem t6. lookupon him with an evil her lovers base desertion, and bade eye, and it is this"~hat gives rise to her 'forget him, He~inie fell to the the saying, "murder will out," for floor with' a shriek and~was taken up his singular actions he fixes suspicion insensible. upon himself,. and investigation pro- 'When she recovered, the facts seem- duces testimony which convicts. ed slowly' to 'arise. before her. All "Where is Horton, father I" ex- that she loved 'in 'this *orld, 'wAs claimed an angelic creature, meeting gone. The light of her young life him at the door. was faded "orevor. When the cup, "Why I as we 'were returilng;a of happiness~ wAs at hex~ lips, and she man met us on the road, and Jianded about t~o drlnk,~thus to hate it dash- him a note. I did not see' the con- ed to' the grQund-.-it ~was hard-.-.it tents; but Mr. Horton grew deadly ~as cruel. 'Had' her's been the evane- pale.. When we entered town,' he scent love of' the d'ourte&coquette'the left me, and I haveeeen'nothing more sacrifiee''would have been an of him." ' 'oiie ~ but en~ftapped as she Was, body~ "Well I I expect that he"will'sooti and soul, b~this deep passion, tb,~ be here then. Indeed I h&L com- blow felliVon her with stunning' ef- menced to fear that some ~acciden~ i'ect4 'Aud"th~n th&'deseition of t~e had befallen you, on account of your ~ne in whQlu her ~ffection~ were den- longabsence." 'tked~-sh& '~ii~ believe it. I~e "No; my business detained'~ me was 'no' nol)le-.-~.so good, that such '~ over night! But where'~ ybur moth- tiiiixg ~*as alamat impossible!' or I" Here he' gave the horse in 'thoi~K it waa'e'ven so; ~*'nt ifh~ 'ge- charge of one of tihe servants,'and en- turned, she w6uld f6rgive his base- tered the house. ness, and her 'j~as~ioaate dove W~o'tild 'Three days passed on irithout' see- but.n'asi~iadly ssbefot~e. ~(AudIher~, ing any thing of the school-teacher, if in 'place, I might pay a triNts 'to His scholars.. caine regularly every woman. There are' these df stern morning, but were ~gain forced to re- minds aVid ~stoif heasz. They be.~ turn home Dark'~i~ts were thrown lievethat~no si~eh passion as love out, that he had met with foul play;' istakwithiii the 'hunian breast. They but these were 'speedily 'silenced by believe that alt'bein~s' ai'e 'like' 'them- th~ information that Mr. Duvern~ had selves, gloom an i!nisaiithropl&~. deceivedved a letter from him, dated at unheeding' the appeals of' charity ~incinnatti, in which he states, that he sneei.in~ at the friendships of life, auci ~fiad "advocated Abolit~oni~i among oppressing their fellows. the slaves, and upon the warning of Are we blocks of 'stone"1 Are we a friend, he had left. At the same dull inanimate matter 'Are We inox- time, 'bidding' defiance to all slave- ing statues? No; thank God I ~There holders." ' ' " 'are a 'few yet left, who thi'ow a be- When the contents of the (forged) niga influence around-.-in whose letter became known, there was an hearts are gushing up tender sympa- uiiivorsal burst of indignation from ,thies-~-whose ten thousand little deeds / 4' Ii' 26 -27 page: 28-29[View Page 28-29]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 28-29 THj:DO3VN.~TBODDEN; GB, 'of bennyolence are bestowed upon the needy. ~There are. those of this kind, I' say, embracing both sexes, but more particularly the female. As you read, e'en now, does not the memory of by- gone days pass before you, in review? t)o.you not still fde 1 a mothers hand upon your head as when in days of yoie, it lay amid your clustering curls, and her voice united with you in the evening prayer? If cares and adversities have choked up your path, an yow are thrown upon the world' with9ut~a frj~nd, to aid, or a star to guide,' does~n~t the memory ~f that 'hou~- $as~i~efore you? '~Do'y~ai;not ,vow thatyom~n ~wiil obey~hr warning voice, an~d becorie good? This is ~solemnt' For I, too, had a. mother ouce~ whes~ 1 was a wild and reckless ~toy~.' And X lovedthat thor, deep- jy-~-fervently,.. She ~ de~d,' now; 'her gentle hea&lie~ low.: But before her, glazed eye .closed, fo~eve~,, she topk myj~u4' in hers; it was' ~ol4, cahny, and th~t, moisture of death stood within'i1~'hollow ~ choak- jng.withfiie r~pollect fl.'~[ can ~~more~--f9r ~lrea4y is this page blis~ired wi~h. 'my~ t~ars~-forgnre rae for tr~ki~aeting ~ypwnuthought~here. '4g~-th~t I .m tiring yo~tr indul- genoa) And then,' woman! When guilt clings around the object of her affec- txQaa-whea erime has stained his ca- reer-when. th~ wem~ld turns: ~w~ay, and~al1s hini felon-does she, desert hi~r'? Do~ai~er~ love grow less fer- vent than' it was in hm~ palmiest days?' No i~ His fate is her fate. 'And when he is spurned by all others, his'!ast refuge' is upou her bosom. her words fall ~softly ,upoas his ears, and he be- comes notall bad. Though sin pre.- ~ her gentle words, his' good nature attirnes bursts forth like flame obscured by smoke. Days, weeks, and months passed by without bringing any news from Hor- ton. His place in the school was sup- plied by a "native," Hennies light-heartedness had dis- appeared, and she was now a maniac beyond recovery. But' hers was a mild lunacy. Day after day, would she sit gazing upon his miniature, and when 'any one entered t'he door, she would rush down stairs, and enquirer if "they had met him 1" "Who I,' "'Well,' 'hush then I See that there are none by, for. the very walls have ears. Now swear that you 'will keep ,ray~eret i" Yes1.". "Why~it is horton. To-morrow is our bridal day, and you will surely attend the wedding. B~t-but--- there issomnethiag horrible, that I forget. It is-is-" And here the poor gill ~reesed herhauds upon her eyes as i*~ to banishsotoo terrible "thought- She was. pitied by ~a1l,' and her father was well nigh distracted at the calamiLy~which bad befallen his child on whom his soul was 'centered.- Surely, sufficientt unto the day is the evil thereof." CH&I~TFAR X. run ~,~uiiscun, A BARBECUE! Or, as it. is cal' in Kentucky, a "bergyeu," in' t wild woods! This is a time honors ~ custom, 'comparatively unknown in the eastern states. Every Saturday, a party sallys forth, rifle in 'hand; in quest of game, with the understand- ing to meet with' others in a~few hours, by the side of 'some stream or spring far from, human sight, ilete nr~AcIc BLOOD AND WUITh. 29' they partake of refreshments, in the I "Ho, Tinkey"!" said Will Spicer, shape of roast lamb, chickens, and at the same time hitting the aforesaid chicken soup, squirrels, and squirrel personage in the face with a chicken soup, corn bread and wheat, and last- bone. "Can't you give us a speech ly, and the most important of all, on the~Snapping Turtle question?" "the jug of' Old Bourlon." Here the "Gentlemen !" replied Mr. Tinkey. utmost hilarity prevails, and 'rtdllery "I protest against this cruel jesting'. is submitted to with perfect good hu- nation. He! he! be! ha !" mor-though' as it often happened "There-there! 'You need not be these asseitblages not unfrequently so snappish, even though it was a broke up with a general melee, and snapping qi~estion that I Proposed." as the habit of carrying weapons of Mr. Bricks next drew the attenl~ion defence is universal in "moit of the of the company to an individual op- southern and western states, blood osite tp him. "I say I t9~ed my would be profusely shed~ But the orse' to ~'w~ter yesterday, and you rules now are very strenuous, and all know Dolb~ses. well, when I gt~t thar warlike instruments are given in I was no whar; and as I wa~'about charge of the "minister'~ at the corn- taking my plunder'on, after the crit- meneemeut of the ceremonies. ter bad drank, who should' I see but On 'tire present occasion, the party' the old man hini~self. So;t reckerwd were assen~bled ~ :~h~ Coon-ekih that l'a focht up~all ~a standing' agin'a Spring, to the number of fifty.- snag.' Whar you" g~iiiie, to 'Mr. Among them, we recognize 'Mr. Tin: Bricks? said 'the Squire. 'I'm guine key, Puffi Potter,' Esq., Mr. Duverne, 4o~n 'the river. yyehl, IIQW about: Master ~erhi, Mason 'Harper, the chief m~, diaper- i~Y '~ W~lJ, hereivas ~ "soup direct~,i'~ 'Jack ~Telesoop&, thp stander. I scratched~ny head. Wh~y, "minister," Long Anthony; a~Squire to tha ]i)obbs, I've made Moody, th~ "'presi4~nit-" " two ~undr'e' i~ehels ~f corn, and, The steamr~iftg '~ouip "w~as 'not yet twelve hindered weight 9f't9bacc~ ready, although tthe~ hunter~ ~h~' 'audi will get shet~of the~p ~t "come in" loi1~~ ago.' ~The ~rxein' i~ere 'if you will hopd'dy' dispersed around in sniall. sip; oc- and then you ~h~l e en casionally going to the sp~i~ to im- -by jimine crip .~ ~ ~ut bibe "Old ~3ourlon,"'or "J.~4 Eye ;" I'm making too~ lon~~ ~sq pass the effects of which were visible in that Old'Bourlon down this way..-.-- increased jollity." ' Now, Ham and Egg~ what wa~ you At length the bread was cut into goin' t~ say ?" square lumps-the meats were laid "~LI I-. w-w-was guine t-t-to upon the bark table--.the bowls were day' *n'nt. you're an-n-n~infer-fer-nal ~distributed, and the signal was given liar." ' 4o begin. ' ' ' The whole company sprang to their And that was a sight-those men feet, for. by the Kentucky code of. seated amid the rough rocks, ~vith the honor, blood ever followed th&t wbrd. rays of ~the afternoon sun streaming "J'-j-entlemen," said the one wh~nt' down ~iipon thetn through the tall all' thought'arnilk-sop, "that ec~un- treeftops, patches of blue: sky visible~ drel this morning in-insu'lted' 'my above 'the' dense foliage. Two or aged mother, and I-I-have' ,SwQl'4' thi~ee ii~groes (unbidden guests)'skulk- t-that if-if he spoked to nie, I-Xwould ed around to perform the menial olil- t-tak~&his-sis life. 'Noi~; conie out" cm which were required of theni. / Bricks' raised his ~i~antic f~iem to'i~ page: 30-31[View Page 30-31]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 30-31 80 THJ~ DOWN-TROI)DIiN; OR, BLACK ~BLOOD AND WflITK at its full height, while a dark scowl flitted7across his swarthy features. It was ~but for a moment though, for the next instant he drew a bowie knife from his side pocket. H@ had concealed the weapon, and refused to give it up' tothe "minister." "Traitor! He has his knife I Kill the scoundrel l" echoed all. "I warn you all I" repeated the burly hunter, "to keep back.. The fir~t one who advances towards me, dies l" And there was a ~pectacle-~-nmid these wild woQds, aud~ still wilder (men, .~ pale,. trembling yout~m con- fr~ntng a. ferocious, and enraged ~ wi~ho~~mt any. arms to defend hh~elf fr~ni 'what~ appeared almost von have called~ me NQrnan can ever apply that to ~ne and live. So,' down. UpQfl your, knees and pray, for~,I am g9wg to s1ay yoig bef~~' p114-this -And 4 thesewords ~t~dso P901 th~ug~ thA c~owd~-brave~ as they1 ~ only impressionn th~y m~494 ~ ~whose ,pbriqMet~ a ~ap, ~o i~~rpape. ~ ahetur~ed up- "on, his, foe,*hlle~ ~s compr~sssd his lips~s~ tightly that)the -b~ood odzed from the incisions mnadeby his ~teeth. "Am~e you ready?" "Yes, y~u d-d stutterer i" And 'as the last words escapedAhe hu~tor's lips, he sprang forwiird; but q4ck as lighting, 'the young man sto~pe4 down-grasped a fragment of rock, ap4 hurled it with irresistible fo~e full int9 ,his' face. The weapon of~tbe. ~sasiJant fell with a ringing sou~d U~QU the l~ard, stones, a deep groan came from his bosom, and' he fell(heavily' upon the ground. His shattered jaw hung upon bisbreast,~id "the whole of I)ial~e~t cheek was gpii~ed out so, that the ~bone was bare to the sight. His bloody features formed a sight at oiiee horrible, and repulsive. He had met with his reward. After the ~wounded man was cou~. veyed from the ground, the company amused themselves by shooting at a mark, many of the marksmen split- ting a bullet upon a knife blade. The unerring accuracy' of' the Ken- tuckians is in a great measure, owing to these exercises at the "bergyeua. The shades .of night were now falling when a scene something like this was ~(ollowe4.: The. "minister," (as the olsewhQ baa ~chargeof the weapons is called4exclaiming.r-."John Smith, bowie-kulfe and revolver. Mr. Du- verne, cale~knife and two revolvers. Long Anthony, bowie-knife~ BlQw- ing !I'inkey, single-barrel pistol, (un- loaded),'and Capt. White, slung-eliot an4 jack-knife; etc.". After the fires )aad lep e~tjngtnsh-. ed, the~ ~ppurtenauces tg~thiez'ed to- gether, and the raw ,whipkey~guzaled - 4own,, 'th~, entire assei~bly' ga~a a stenorian shout'an4 left the place.'~ Such, re~d~r, is an-account of ~ Kentucky. "jollification," something which differs 'rmatqrially with our eastern i49as of morality and de- co~um. CHAPTER XI' BLACK ANSB. BLACK ANsE. was seate& beneath the old elm, in front of his rna~ter's (Squire Moody's) house, playing on his fiddle th5se plaintive tunes, known only by the southern slaves. 'Three or four slaves were standing around, and their dark lineament. were illum- ed with joy, as some. rich notes more melodious than the ~rst would en chain their untutored ininda. "Boys!" at length said Anse, rest- ing his violin upon his knee. "Boys, de tunes don't come out ob dis ole feller as dey used did. I doesn't know de reason; but when I plays, now I feel berry bad,' and de nigga cries! Cries, 'kase dar's no one cares for de poor nigga. De slave hab a hard life ob dis trausmigory wo~l'! But' 'I'll play now, de 'farew~ill to my ole Kentucky home 1" "Anse!" echoed a deep voice be- hind him. "Anse, put up your fid- dle, and follow 'me." An~e obeyed, and soon they arrived at the public whipping-post; where a large crowd I was assembled. "Ause 1" said the 4 Squire-" here is a~lette'r from Black Harry, written to you, in which, it appears,. that you have giveu aid to runaway slaves. Is it true I" * "Yes, Massa ~ tell a I" Nigga lie, he helped do mggas as run I away!'. . t "Well, then for your crime, you ~ are to receii~e ONB HtJ~'PRED 'd LASHES I Make ready I" I An attendant then chaiiiedi him to .e the post-~-his back' was biired,~and I Squire Moody, taking the short, 'thick I whip, stepped back a fe~ $ces, ana ~ describing with his, armg4 circle n a the air brought the ini~'~f'tor- S ture with great might ~p~ni'the ne- fi groes flesh. 'l~he first blow raised- a h high dark ridge, extending from the ix top of the right shoulder to the hot- o' torn of the left, ' The next blow left a ridge that o~ crossed the other diagonally, axid at 'b their junction wher& the skin iviis r~ broken, a thick, red spray of blood .0 streanied. forth. Thus the terrible T lash dt~seended. It was x~ow drench- ed and dripping with gore. The back ti: of the negro was literally cut to pie- in ces, large pieces of flesh projecting tli outward-congealed and liquid blood pi was bubbling up, as if in anger at this terrible punishment. Not a groan escaped the compressed lips of the suffering, slave. At length, fa- tigued with his exertions, the Squire handed the whip to a by-stander to finish the remaining twenty lashes.- This Aew executioner rained down his he~ry blows with increased vigor up- on the quivering fie~h, every time, bringing away clinging particles. Once, and only once, 'did a low moan es- cape Anse. It was when a piece Qf his body was torn from the verybone, stinging' w4h madness even to his vi- tals. The chastisement having been in-. licted, the suffering negro was carried. ~ he could not 'walk) to his masters mansion. (And here let me say~ that tho ibove is no fancy sketch, it is truth- he unvarnished truth. And in.~c& oboration of this, a' 1~entueky slav~ 'older once described inmy hearing . he following :-~--" Hiss slave, (a nero, ~irl, twenty-two Mige) hav~n~ lisobeved hi' &~&i~m#ro~s QOQ5Q1~I1~, n a few days back mortifiedber.. ~a mass of soabby putr~fal~ti~m~, nd 'her whole body became affected. 'he bad to lay upon 'her face, an'd no ~od passed her hps-.nQ sleep visited er eyes. 'Medical aid was unavail~ ig, a~l in two weeks from'the thu. '~~chastisemen~ 'she ~ (e;4bhiot think that it was the eft'ect~ ~ 'the punishment she h~iid 'received'~ ut that the inflammation proceeded. ~ther from constitutional infirmities'! CONSTITUTIONAL INFIRM!- LES I" My God! how long must this comw nue 1 How long must outraged h~- anity cry' aloud for redress? I. er~meyer to be an end to these ,e~Ibns? Is there never to be a 31 gg - page: 32-33[View Page 32-33]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 32-33 *1 BLACI~ BLOOD AND WHiTE. 33 32 THE DOWN-THODPEN; 0Th - c~sasion of hostilities? And yet we D'or the love of Heaven! Oh, Ade- ar~ Ohri~tiansl Away, I gay, with line, my child l" And the agonized such Christianity, that exerts not its4 father stood by wringing his hands, influence for the benefit of the slaves f with tears streaming down his cheeks. that allows a man to come within the j The frantic mother could hardly be portals of the eJ~urch, despite his iron restrained from rushing into the tyranny. God grant, that the' da~ flames to save her child, while the may coi~ne, and come speedily when two other children were crying, "Save the passions o~ men shall be banished my sister I" -when meek-eyed Re4son shall di- And there was a movement in the rect our steps, and Ecligion shall thrdhg, when Anse dashed from their breathe upon us its breath of purity. midst, and entered the burning ruins. * It was night. The family of Yes! with the pnir~ of his lacerated Squire Moody had retired to rest, bac1~ still exoriated-with the memo- when the alarm of fire was giver~by ry of his mother's death ringing in a passer-by, and the 'and his ears-with the thoughts of his his wife on rushing out, found their own deep wrongs driving him to mad- dwelling enveloped in flames. Far ness, and the taunts of his perseen- and wide the glare extendedd upon the toxs rousing him to vengeance, he midnight sky. The red curls 1iere~eriled his life for their sake's.- winding, and eddying, and cracklin'f Here we have an example in the from every* aperture. Myriads of case of Shis poor, bleeding slav~ of, spark~ were hovering above the dense Love your enemies, bless them tha volumes of smoke, while the crashin~ curse you, do good to them that hate * walls and falling beams added to th you, and pray for them which des- horrors of the sight. pitefully use you. ,Surely~ "black By this" time, i~ large crowd had blood is.white.") ass~mbh9, but ~l attempts to arrest The smoke and flames hid the faith- th4~*4~4s'of the devouring element ful slave, from view, but his dark head werefiitlle, and jthe spectators folded soon appeared at the window, and a their' anus as they' gazed upon the shout of admiration went up from the sceile.' a ~lit~e' excited s~te~ta~ors as he clasped the Suddenly girl was seen in child in his~h~~ y Itrms, and again dis- the second, story window extending appeared. '~$q1~e'. time elapsed, and her hands for akh It was a thrilling nought w~hhWd~but the falling, of object. There she stood-her golden blazing rafters, ~and crumbling mason- ringlets swayed by the hot blasts- ary. "He is lost-he has perished !" her blue eyes upturned in prayer,~nd were the exclamations from all. a smile playing around her moirdi, At this moment the entire front while the rud4y~-glare reflected upon wall fell inward, and in the open her face gave to her. the appearance space they saw the negro and the of some angelic ~pirit of Heaven de- child unharmed. Slowly he mount- scejided to earths There she was- ed the hu~e pyramid of bricks-his the 'flames above, beneath, around. In body reeling to and fro liken 'drunk- thk~case, every second was a mhiute en man ; -his clothes burning uponhis -every minute an hour. bo4y; his back blcedihg afresh, and. "Who will save my child? Oh, his blood-shot eyes glaring wildly God! Who will save her? All ~f around. Not a murmur came from myfortune-every thing that I ~o's- the bystanders-they hdd. their sesW to any one! Who will save her? breaths in momentary expectation of' seeing him again fall back into th fiery lake. Slowly, he tottered ov the rough fragments. He fell upo one knee-an audible groan resoun ed through the multitude-" Ans~ your freedom-your liberty"-shoui ed the slave-holder. The words rou~ ed him from his' stupor, 'and a~ fain srnilc beamed upon his dark county nance. With a powerful effort, h recovered himself, and scaled the rub bish. He fell insensible upon th ground; but the girl was safe, and mother's' tear of joy fell thick an.~ fast upon her head. Anse was taken up, and placed in bed at one of the neighboring house, where the Squire's family were so. mourning. He was in great agony and it was evident that 'he had but a short Lime to live, for his body was burnt terribly. Little Adeline watch- ed -over him constantly, and the slaves eyes turned towards her with tenderness, while a tear trembled up- on their h,.~hes. The ones who had treated him so cruelly before, now wept at the thought of his approach- ing dissolution. Even the iron~heart: ed Squire was softened. "Anse l" said he, "God forgive me, as you have -done. I have done wrong, and this dark sin upon me will curse me to my dying day. You have your freedom.' If you recover, Anse, you are free !" "Mama, you be's very kind to poor nigger, now, and I 'forget de "ole cat" upon de back. I'se thought I did right to help de nigga's as runs away; but it be's ober now. It's too late. I'se guine away to anudder land in a few days, mama, to join my poor ole mudder l" It was twilight, and the soft winds, came through the open casements ruf- fling the folds of the curtains with gentle undulati~ns. There was life an(l beauty upoi~ the earth, and even- ing shades were curtaining around. 3 .e The breath of the dying slave came ~r forth, fast and hot; a dew was upoa n his brow, and his fingers twitched I- convulsively among the bed-clothes a, There were many standing around his bed-side. "Come closer to me, i- Mama l I'se gawn now to my long, t long home. I'll hab' freedom dere, Massa! De poor nigga '11 nebber e work hard dere I He'll nebber cotch de "ole cat" dere. He'll see Ole a Polly and de little childs, way up dere. s And when you lay me way down in I de deep ground, lay de ole fiddle~by my side, kase I'll play sweeter tunes den, than I does now. Now, if Anse had done wrong, forgib him, Mama, for he'll soon belong to anudder Mae- sal Farewell, Ole Tuckey-Fare- well, de n'ig-I--.de-" Here his lips moved, but no words came forth. His limbs gradually stiffened-a shiv- ering ran through his frame, then his glazed eye closed forever. And thus he died-the 'noble, the brave, and true. The next day he was buried. And' there were tears shed above his grave by many, for well did he deserve' them. (Ancient history tells us of a warrior who died, and whose lifeless body was left dis-entombed on the arid plains; but the winds sprung up, and heaped above his form, a mound of sand, from 'which palm- trees and bright flowers grew forth. A spring' of water also gushed up. And at this oasis the tired caravan paused. The weary camels quenched their thirst, the traders refreshed themselves, and performed their mys- terious religious, rites beneath the spreading shade. Though the grave of the "down-trodden" was not form- ed like that, yet it was suited to its occupant as well. It was in a quiet nook, where tall trees towered upward to heaven. Where the songs of birds, and the voices of the passing zephyr. were heard from the rosy light of 7 page: 34-35[View Page 34-35]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 34-35 *4 THE DOWN-T1lO1)D1~lN; Oil, morn till the dusky gloom of night. celebrations, he had been chosen nest thee, poor' despisefl slave. Let "orator of the day." He had taken no tumults awake thee-no jarring Dan' Webster, Will' Shakspeare, Lord (listUrb Byron, and Deacon Twitchit for his thee.) models, though how far he "excelled those distingues" you will soon have - an opportunity of judging. At this time, the "odious fugitive slave law" had passed, and "indignation meet- CHAPTER XII. ings" were rife throughout the land. The subject fired our heros brain, and. THE yANKEE. . he resolved to regenerate the world. Well, we see him now snugly en- JERUSALEM PICABODY,. of Kenne- sconsed in a coasting sloop, bound for bunkport, "way deown in Maine," was the great "town of Bostin~." Here a specimen of a "live Yankee." It he arrived, safe and sound, and amid seemed that Nature had originally in- the vast crowd, we lose sight of him, tended him for a youth of some six- for some time. But finally we find teen summers. But the body having that he has "dropped deown 'eout rebelled in 'a fit of anger, it suddenly West." grew up to the height of six foot two. It was a windy day in March, that' 'There was ~ look of extreme ver- the inhabitants of L- werestartled der~cy'imprinted upon his features.- by the loud voice of an orator, who. He had blue eyes, fiaxen.hair, as white was perched upon a dry goods box, in as the driven snow, and a' large chin, the principal street. A large number with three brown moles, from which soon collected. "Neow, yeou tarnal ~grew a seperate'tuft of hair. The slave-holders, I'se come 'from Maine, rest of his face was like a placid lake to regenerate yeou-'--yes, yeon beint -eniqoth, without a wrinkle. His men, tew oppress, the poor niggers. * dress, on all occasions, consisted of a Neow, I want yeou tew let them go. pair of striped corduroy pants, reach- By gosh, if it. taint tew bad. Wall, ing to his knees, the deficiency of I don't keer a darned 'arter yeou i41; length being made up by a long paiP the whole universal nation of ye's.- - of cloth straps. These straps were Yeou white-livered critters, yeoul out in two every other day, by walk- Old Uncle Sam ourt to chain veou ing upon the part 'under his boots up. If yeou dew whip the niggers, I ~which, ~by the way, were heel-less,) ain't afraid on 'yeou, for Pm a genii'- and thus gave effect to-" a stitch in wine extract of the Yankee-"' time, saves nine." His coat' had These were his last words for ~at formerly belonged to a "great-grand- this moment the box was knocked father's father," a Continental hero of from under him, and in spite of his -'70. The waist terminated at the struggles, he was overpowered by 'the nape of his neck, and, as for the rest enraged crowd, and conveyed to a part-why, it was all tail-tail-tail I pump near by, where he 'was ducked, A' eeu vest, a "sugar loaf beaver," and scoured, and drenched until' life an "stand up collar," completed was nearly extinct.' When he had the minute. partially recovered, fifty lashes were Now, this, same Jerusalem Peabody added by way~'of remembrance. Thus *as "some" at spouting ' in the town bruised, and smarting under his pun~ of 1(ennebunkport, and on sundry ishnient, he was thrown into a mud BLACK BLOOD AND WHITE. 35 gutter on the outskirts of the town, them as through an obscured tele- there to undeceive himself in regard scope. to his "regenerating the world." Atherton was' sitting in an arm (Here the sketch ends. And though chair, before the bright fire, with his we have searched in vain through the young wife resting her head upon his dim vista of life-though we have in- knee, gazing tenderly up into his quired in the land of the East, and face. She was very beautiful. Her have advertised (in imagination) for lily white hand was shading her face our hero, all of our efforts have been from the heat-a small slippere..l foot futile, and Jerusalem Peabody "turns peeped out truantly, and her graceful not up" again in this book of "books." form was rounded symmetrically. It Thi~ veritable fact may serve to il- was a sight, to see her thus fondly lustrate there are such men as looking into her husband's eyes which Peabody, Esq. Every thing-"ivith returned her loving gaze with equal them is real. Imaginary evils become tenderness. It told that lovehad re- sins, of magnitude. False theories ality. And though the house was become established theorems. Their small, and ill-furnished, yet every views become enlarged, they firmly thing looked so neat-the floors were believe that they are destined to be- scrubbed so white-the brass candle- come the "regenerators of mankind," sticks shone so brightly, and last, but and it is not until bitter experience not least, the young couple looked so proves the falsity of the unreal, that lovely, that it seemed as if happiness they again settle to their former level, had deserted the palaces of the rich, and centered right down here-here in this humble cottage. Andthough it stood on a barren waste, amid still more barren scenes, within doors it had a little world of its own, illumed CHAPTER XIII. . by all that was holy, pure and true. "I have sent my book to , and AUTHORSHIP, in three months it will be publish.~ - ed. I wonder how it will succeed I" CHARLES ATHERTON was a "child "I don't know Charles! If I had of genius." J3'rom his earliest infan- not helped you, you might have had" cy poesy had marked his path, and a better prospect of success. I'm bright fancies were interwoven with- afraid my poor thoughts will give it in his prolific brain, a death blow, ere it begins to live," He was that kind of a man whom replied Ellie laughingly." the world calls "soft."' But if you (How delightful it must be to have would look beneath this "seeming a young and lovely being at y~ur softness." you would see that it son- elbow while composing, breathing in- cealed the most generous feelings- to 'your ears ideas as bright and the most noble sentiments-a mighty glowing as her own angelic self.-.-. intellect 'and superior endowments. Reader, are you, an author? Have In fact, if you will observe the great- you the "necessary requisite? If est men who have ever rose or fell, you are blessed thus, I envy you I) you will discover this same peculiari- The volume at lengtI~ made it~ ap~ ty. It ip because their natures are so pearance. It was a book of by-gone superior, that the mediocre views memories; a saddened story of 'the page: 36-37[View Page 36-37]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 36-37 36 THE DOWN-TRODDEN; OR, heart, partaking of Atherton's melan- clioly enthusiasm, interspersed with * Blue's lively sallies,~ abounding with wit and hilarity. It found its way into the halls of the wealthy, and the hovels of i~he poor. And those who perused its pages, wept; for its sentiments -were consonant with their own. And much good was done by its silent influence. Mens eyes. were opened to gross evils, and prevailing vices were discountenanced. It is true that "upstart critics" canvassed, and wrote, and pointed out faults; but theii~ weight was small, for the publication was intended for- the ma- ny, not for the few. To say that the work was perfect in its component parts, would have placed it above that holy book-the Bible. It had many faults; but taken on the whole, it displayed vast intellectual endow- ments-markad ability, and therefore, its success was great-it was unpar.- alleled. "Blue I" said Charles one day - bursting into the room, ,"Ellie, my book has taken-my fortune is made. Now I can. dQ good-now I can per- form that whi4~ I advocate." Blue she& tears of joy, and em- braced her husband with - great warmth-" I told you that it would succeed, Charles I" "But, it was your aid that made it what it is, my dear, little ElI. Oh, what a treasure d~ I possess -in you. When I tried before, and was unsuc- - cessful, despondency weighed down my spirits, and the world seemed to be a gloomy abode. You was my guardian angel, then.' Whose star- light smile dispelled the clouds. Whose sunny brow was ever in my sight. You need not blush, Ellie; iV was yours I" exclaimed Atherton, playfully tapping her on the cheek. "Oh I you sad flatterer !" rejoined Flue, pouting :her coral lips in mock anger. '"Will you never cease I" Shortly after this, Char!es Ather- ton removed to a more princely dwelling, having realized wealth and fame in a short time, something that is of rare occurrence in the history of authorship. (For if you see some tall lank specimen of humanity, with ragged habiliments, cadaverous vissa- ges, elongated from north (the top) to south (the chin,) and bearingsomo ponderous volume, you may rest as- sured that he is an Author. Some severe insinuations might here be added, but on mature reflection dis.. creation, "the better part of valor," says-Enough I (Authorship is in fact the worst of all ships.) CHAPTER XIV. TtIE SLAVE SALE. - Mv brother Jerry was one day working~ as usual among the tobacco, when the voice of Mr. Duverne was heard-" Jerry come, quick, and harness up the horse, - I am in great haste I" "Harness him yourself l" wa~ the surly reply. Mr. Duverne immediately ~rushed 'from the porch, inflamed with passion. "You scoundrel I" burst from his lips, and with a powerful blow of his clench- ed fist, he felled the slave to the ground. He slowly arose, and seizing the hoe-handle, he glared silently, and ter riblj upon the slave-owner - as if he was about to smite him to the 'earth. "Yes I" said Mr. Duverne. "I have borne with you until I can bear with you no longer. So, to-morrow, you go to Louisville to be' sold I" With these words, the planter turned upon his heel, and-walked'aw~y. Accordingly, the next day, we bid - BLACK BLOOD AND WHITE. 3~I the stoical Jerry, farewell, and he left I "Three hundred I" echoed a by- us forever. I stander. There was to be an auction on Jef-I "Three hundred and ten !" contin- ferson street, on Thursday, and Mr, ued the red-faced planter. Duverne was thus obliged to wait two "Three hundred and ten-ten-ten days after his arrival. I -ten! Who~l make it thirty ?" Thursday morning at length came. "I will !" ans\vered another. The slave-mart was crowded with bid- "Three hundred and thirty. Who'll ders. Some came for the ~ftrpose of say the fifty ?" speculating in "human flesh," others "I do 1" rejoined the determined to obtain a needed servant, and some red-face. were lookers on. "Three hundred and fifty. Who Forty negroes, young and old, bids more? Going-going-going- small and large, were seated upon the Who bids? Going-going-going! stand, among them, was Jerry. Poor Gone !" and the hammer fell. creatures; they looked sad enough. "Well, here we have, gentlemen, There were mothers, with their babes, a healthy negro woman, only twenty- about to be torn asunder, and carried four years old, and as yet, has only perhaps, thousands of miles apart. two children. She's worth eight hun- There were husbands, and wives about dred dollars. Now, how mui~h I" to be disunited forever. There were "Three hundred I" responded a ho-. brothers and sisters, about to be tel proprietor. brothers and sisters no more. "Four hundred 1" exclaimed an- The sale commenced. "Here, gen- other, from Memphis. tlemen 1" cried the hard featured auc- "Thank you! So, I'm bid four* pioneer, "is a likely lad, only twelve hundred dollars I Who'll make it years of age-strong, healthy, and five hundred? I tell you sh.'s worth active! Who bids! How' much? the eight! The five-who says five!' Why, make some bid, if it's only a Five-five-five-five." picayune. Something-bid quick !" "I sez five hunriz 1" said a wild "A picayune !" sq~xealed a diminu- Kentuckian. tive Hoosier, in blue home-spun, who, "Well, the five! Who says five for the moment forgot that "mdi- seventy five-five'--fi-" anee" was a free state. The idea oc- "Five, , seventy-five 1" added the purring to him that a slave' at five landlord. cents was somewhatr cheap I" "Now,. who makes it the six !" "Turn that man out !" said the "I'ze 'ill make it the zix hunriz 'ol.- sales-man to the laughing crowd. lars !" again bid the Hunter. "Well, a picayune is bid. A pica- "S-i-x hun-d-r-e-d JI'm bid. Now, yune-yune-yune-yune !" I say it's a shame to let a slave like '"Two hundred !" bid a red-faced this go for only six hundred. Who planter. bids ?" "Two hundred ' dollars, I'm bid! "Six fifty !" replied a butcher, who- Two hundred dollars for this boy! dealt in "animal and human flesh. Who'll make it fifty? Will you?" "Well! Six fifty, it is. Any more? "Yes!" was the reply. Going-.--going-gdne I" "Thank you! Two hundred and "Here's another. Jerry-a pow- fifty-fifty-fifty-fifty. Any more, erful negro! Who bids ?" fifty-fifty-Two hundred and fifty." Af~r much competition, Jerry was page: 38-39[View Page 38-39]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 38-39 38 . THE DOWN-TRODDEN; OR, "knocked down" to a Mr. Morse, a steambht owner, for one thousand dollars. Mr. Duverne receiving the price of "flesh and blood"-the Auc- tioneer pocketing his commission. Thus the sale continued until all were sold. Some to go. to New-Or- leans, some to Missouri, some to oth- er states, and a few to remain in Ken- tucky., In spite of their embraces and lamentations they were ruthless- ly separated, and- bound preparatory to their leaving. . (It's a hard sight this-a sla~ve auc- tion. To see man tampering with his fellow, and for the sake of a few pie- ces of paltry gold, dooming him .to a life of misery, I vow that it is horri- ble. It seems so much like, bidding defiance to the Almighty; selling that which belongs to him exclusively. If you have stood by as I have done, day after day, witnessing this horrible trafic. If you have seen the agony depicted upon the faces of the doom-. ed ones, you will not say that the slave has no feelings-you will not say that his sensibilities are hardened -that hehas no affections. I declare that I have 'seen more heart-felt sorrow-more real anguish displayed frequently by 'the "down trodden" than I ever have among the most civilized of earth's other white inhab- itants. It's a horrible trade, this-this same "slave trafic." And I wonder who will be the most to blame at the final judgement-the slave-dealer, or the slave-buyer-the rum-seller or the ruu3-buyer.- Will they not both be equally culpable Legislators may. make laws. States- men may deliver speeches. Men may talk and prate upon the subject. It may be represented in glowing colors. . Slaves it may be said; have no cares, that theirs-is a life of hap-: piness, when contrasted with the ex- treme poverty of the free negroes. But it will not do-I say it will not do.' It is a damning curse, and those who advocate slavery, know it. * We - know it. It' is against the laws of reason and conscience. We enslave them because they are of a darker shade than. ourselves. Because God has not given them our . advantages, we trample upon them. I Thepe are the reasons. - Our striped flag, waving its tri- ,umphant folds from every nook of the habitable globe, and sweeping with the storm-clouds above the mighty deep, is indeed, a fit emblem. Yes I if 'every blood red stripes upon the torn baack of the oppressed. sltave was imprinted upon such flags; it would form-an immense canopy, be- neath which " the smoke of his tor- ment" would arise till " time should 'be no more." CHAPTER XV. THIRA, THE CLERGYMAN'S DAUGHTIIR. .THE Governor of -Kentucky, had, on this (Friday) night, given a ball in honor of his sons birth day. The elite of Kentuckyr were there assem- bled noble-looking men, and ,exqui- sitely beautiful women were moving in the mazy dance, or promnenading arm in arm around the room. There was o'ne-the belle of the evening. Who she was, none knew. Proud, and Juno-like in her bearing, *she moved like a queen above all others. Lovely as a dream was she, surpass- ing even the haughty beauties there. ~ *Her dark, oval orbs languished volup- tuously-her delicate complexion was - soft assummer'.seveningsky when ting- ed with light roseate hues-her fea- tures and form were faultless, and her white, polished brow was shaded by hair, black as -nidnight, a single gem I I BLACK BLOOD AND WHITE. '89 I flashing with transparent brilliancy his sin if sin it be that he has com- 'amid its glossy depths. A dress of mitted, and your petitioner will ever white interspersed with faint red spots pray- Yes, I will be your slave ! completed her attire. She had no I will. take his place if you'will par- need of ornaments, for her own be- don him-Oh'! do pardon my father, wildering loveliness eclipsed even the and with my dying breath I will send -many lights, and sparkling jewels you my blessing. which surrounded her. THIR.& FAIaoHI." But although the admiration of " Who is the bearer of this !" ex- all was drawn towards her, she seemed claimed his excellency, after he had not to be happy. There was a melan- perused it in. a deserted corner of the choly sadness in her looks, and she room whither he had withdrawn. - mechanically joined in the dance, " I am the one," said the lovely. though it was evident that. her heart "star" standing at his elbow. was far away from the gay scene. "You !" broke -in the .Governor The last gush of music had ceased opening his eyes widely, "Yoi-are -the quiclj tramping of many feet you -the daughter of that infamous , was over, and the guests were dis- Fair-fair-something, who is now persed throughout the saloons, for confined in the Penitentiary where he night was now. waning towards morn- deserves to remain." ing. The Governor was talking with Sir !" cried Thira drawing herself up a number of his distinguished friends, to her full height, while her eyes dila- when a trembling hand placed a note ted, and ghastly pallor overspread her within his :- . features, " call not my father infam- " To your excellency- Hon- ous. Though you may insult and ored Sir :- Forgive a trembling, wound the feelings of a lone orphan, timid girl for having the assurance to yet remember that there is a higher addres you. But it is no common Governor than you, %who will take matter of which I speak. Chained account of the oppressor I"- within one of your prisons is an aged " Well.! well ! child you need not .man-a minister of the gospel. Hay- take on so ?" spoke the magistrate ing been' convicted of the crime of now softened, for beauty rarely pleads running off slaves, he now is doomed in vain.' "I will see what can be to expiate his offence by suffering a done for your father !"a long and weary imprisonment. That Thira again changed. She became aged man is my-father! Honored the gentle, timid being as before. She Sir ! Imagine to yourself the grief- knelt before the Governor, and cover- the anguish that sweeps over my ing her face with her hands wept young spirits when I think of his bitterly. A sense of her modesty of situation. I am alone in this world, her virtue told her that she had over and if you deprive me of him, then stepped the bounds, of womanly pru- -the only protector that I have-left is in- dence, and the thoughts of attracting ' deed gone, and I am a wretched, and the .gaze which was now directed broken-hearted being ; for my sainted upon her by the large assembly cans- .mother is in heaven, and a young ed her to rush precipitately frog the .sister lies beneath the green turf. room. You are a father!t You have a The Governor that night wrote an daughter ! Then I ask your pity. I unconditional pardon to "one Reuben beseech your clemency towards my Fairchild," and accompanied the love- incarcerated parent. Forgive. him ly girl to the prison. They entered page: 40-41[View Page 40-41]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 40-41 TIThI DOWN-TRODDEN; OR, the massive walls arid followed the I providence has directed your footsteps turnkey through long narrow corn- hither. Now that I have seen you I dora, passing by cells where strange can die in peace l" and terrible countenances glared upon Governor.-wept like a child. through the round holes in the doors, The holy-man appeared to hurn in his while 1o~d cursesand shouts of revel- true light-self denying, self sacrific~ ry smote U~Oli the ear. The passages ing following with a high. and calm were now becoming narrower, and devotion the calling of his blessed * the jllaok walls nearly reached their Redeemer, and obeying the rule of his * heads above, while a profound dark- sermon "Do unto others as you would ness was around. be done by.". At length the man paused, and He could hardly credit the news after fumbling his keys, produced one that the executive powers had releas- which he inserted into th~' lock, and ed him. When he found that it was soon the ponderous door swung slow- even so he united in thanks to the ly back on its hinges with a harsh great Giver for his many mercies- grating soun4. The gloo~ny dungeon invoking his blessing upon the peni- was before them. tent outcasts, who joined with him. A deep, solemn voice arrested their He 'bid them adieu, and with his attention I It was the i~oice of prayer l hands wet with his ~nany tears, left Yes, by the few, straggling rays of the prison, in company with his light which streamed through the~ daughter, and theGovernor. small, croi~-bnrred window, they saw Surely you will say that Reuben the ven~erabie man engaged in sup- Fairchild was a good man-that his plieating4e.Almighty. There were daughter was a noble girl, and that three ~there i~pon their knees, groan- his excellence was a humane magis.. ing alo~id. (Reader whom thick ye, trate. It makes me think 'while they were? They were murderers I recording such bright examples, that Yes! they had imbrue4 their blood the world is not all bad-that all are stained bands in the blood of their fel- not equally depraved. low-men. They had been spurned from society, and were now engaged like wild beasts to prevent their doing further harm, It was with such vile malefactors as these, Mr. Fairchild was now engaged, in endeavoring to CHAPTER XVI. reclaim from the "error of their ways." Even though shutnp from the world, LII3ERTAE. his influence had accomplished much. These despised men groaned aloud on (IT is the fourth of~ July. We account of their sins, and registered a are.eelebrating the anniversary of our solemn vow before heaven, that they independence. Ha I ha! hal ha I I would become followers of the "meek am laughing louder than any human and lowly Jesus." "ever laughed before. Ha I ha I ha! On hearing the noise, he ended his ha I The jubilee of freedom. A prayer, and the next moment Thira queer people are we-we same Amen- was enclosed within his arms. "My cans. But what matters if we are child, what has brought you here, .1 queer. I tell yo~i we are a free, and had thought tq have died without mighty nation. We claim allegiance seeing you; but God in his merciful t~ no other power, and so we intend to do as we please. Hurrah! Hur- rah! Let your cannons roar I Let, your bonfires blaze from every hill 1 Let your banners wave from every dome. Let your militia conle forth. Let your "speerits be after coming on, for I feel a wee bit dhry I" Yes l I say rejoice! Proclaim liberty to the world. Away with non-intervention! Let the proud oppressor tremble! Hurrah for freedom. My enthusiastic, liberty-loving friends let me whisper a single word into your ear? Ah! you turn pale- you tremble do you? That must have been an ominous word. Why do you not cheer now! You are silent, then? I laugh! But mine is an unnatural, diabolical laugh-Ha! ha! ha! I laugh because I am mad? Yes, mad! I say it is the day of FREEDOM! Why ar~'you' reflect- ing upon that one word-SLAVERy! There is a great deal in that word- American slavery! While you are boasting; here- yes I right here in your midst is a SINGULAR LIBERTY! I mean SLAVE LIBERTY. ~The liberty of being whipped-the liberty of being uneducated-the liberty of being crushed into the dust. Ha I ha! This is liberty for you "with a yen- geance I" But who cares? The slave is black, and wp are so white that we would I be tasted by contact. We are so white that we must make a caste, we must ) degrade them still lowest I mean we be so white or so pure in heaven as to withdraw from the "down troddep..~J No! His soul then I will be as wlii~e as ours. His song of praise will unite with the rest. Then if we are to be joinedin after life for "better or worse"-for eternal joy, or eternal misery, why not live in equali- ty-in harmon?, and in all that which conduces to our benefit, here. You talk about the mild form of your slavery! I warn yotr friends of hu- manity to beware of this mild form of slavery. It is this that will prolong the curse. The punishments may in time become less severe, the "traffic" may eventually cease. But does this suffice? No 1 It must be swept from our land. The motto of our ancestors was "the rights to take a pound, implies the right to take a thousand." So with Slavery I The right to enslave mildly implies the right to enslave severely. The latter method of enslavement will always continue the most in vogue, if we judge the future by the past. It will not do to d~nive men into measures. Insita hominibus nature vio1enti~u resisters. There are many h&-headed persons throughout the country who puff, and speak, and ad- vocate x~asures, but the moment you call upon them to make a sacrifice.-.-. the moment you touch their pockets, why like Bob Acres, their "courage oozes out at their finger ends." They~ will not beard the lion in his den.. No I not they. Now such men do more harm to a cause than good. Although I am for the extinction of slaver , yet I hold not to the doc- trines of compulsion, ~whether it~ the ansetment of laws or in the execution ~f measures, because I think~ that such ancroaohments upon established privib leges tend to retard rather than to progress. We must use moral suasion. We mffst set good examples. We nust use the agency of religion, and disseminate its holy precepts, and ~reat truths. 'If we do this, then ;ime will tell the eventful result, and he slave may celebrate the anniver- ~ary of his freedom as we do that of )urs. By using those means which iod has given us, the down trodden nay yet one day find a general em- incipation. (h But to cease. 'Tis now deep znid~ xig t. My dog's bark is sounding / BLACK BLOOD AND WHITE. page: 42-43[View Page 42-43]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 42-43 42 THE DOWN-TROI)DEN;. OR, BLACK BLOOD AND WHITE. 43 upon the still air, and as I gaze at *the flickering flame of my candle I see- shadows of slaves-of slayc-hol- ders-of whips-of blood and other conglomerated substance, circling swiftly around like the moth, (which by the way is the only reality) before my imagination. . Good night BER- TRAM!) * CHAPTER XVIL POLITICS.-4HE DUEL. ELECTIONEERING out west is a dif- ferent thing from elecfioneeriug here, in-the East. If the candidate expects to be successful, he must ri around the country, and make a long speech at evety. cross-road. He must happen to be at all of the horse races to bet 'and "spout." He must buy a q~santity of "Old I~ourlon Co. Whis- key'" and set tho "stream a running" for~the ." rested travellers" to quench their thirst. He must enter every log2 cabin, to -flatter the "'wf~min," kiss t'lie babies, and talk to the . men about the "crops." Besides' this, he must have grqat fecundity, and un- derstand human nature. If the as- piraiit possess not these qualities his chances for political preferment are small. Mr. Tinkey, and Aminidab Mar- shall were the two opposing, candi- dates for the borough of Lans-- downe. Tinkey, Esq., voted the "demi- krat," and Aminidab, the "tig wig- get." * On the day in question, the two warriors had unsheathed their "swords of controversy" in a "Oampbellite" meeting-house, in k-i!. "Gentlemen l" said Mr, Tinkey rising with great dignity. "1 say gentlemen's! I am before yous this day, to ask for your votes. (Ap- plause.) I am known to you, my feller conspicitents. (Tremendous ap- plause.) I was born a little boy among you, only reaching up to my knee. (Cheers.) I tell ye'r I want, your votes. (Renewed cheers.) To vote, or not to vote, as Shake-the- speare says, that's the question. JLre! he! he! he !" (Overwhelming ap- plause.) (Here the crater became warmed up with his subject.) "I say gentlernens, the great con-dunder- buss has proudly stretched out his im- perial talent~ on Old Euroydot.~lon, and is now vam~seing through the Rolly- bolly-alli-sis to the American conti- nental. But, I tell you, our Old Ea- gle has got his dander riz, and is brushing up his feathers, and grind- ing his. spurs for the offal fight. (Tremendous cheers.) I say that it -(Here a bench broke down) is a crisis 1" (The orator here repeated a portion of Washington's farewell ad- dress, which he had learned by heart, branched off into ~fferson's Inaugu- - ral, and "brought up" against an old fashioned Methodist sermon, exhort- ing sinners to repentance. By acci- dent, he happened to hit again upon the subject of his election, and he be- g~sn a tirade of abuse against his lon- orable opponent. "He is an 'impas.. tor, I say, gentlemens" continued Tinkey. "You lie I" yelled Marshall from the other end of the platform, "and I dare you to take it up!" The meeting immediately broke up in great cJnfusion. For blood had to follow those words in Kentucky. (The morals of that state, a few years a~o, were at their lowest ebb. If an in- sult was given it was washed out in blood, and the law toek no cognizance of the crime.) The preliminaries being settled, the parties with their seconds met 'pri- with joy to grasp the prize, a sudden vately at some distance from the wave sweeps above us, and we are town. wrecked~-wrecked within sight of The distance was measured off- that which we bad so fondly hoped to the pistols handed to the combatants, obtain, and with a shriek of despair, and the word-one--two-fire! giv- we sink beneath the billows and per- en. Marshall's weapon missed fire; ish-victims to a false ambition. Self but Tinkey's discharge was followed sacrificed at the ~hrina of a fearful by a deep groan, and he saw, (Oh, idolatry.) horror!) that he had slain his oppo- nent's second. The dead man lay tip- on the green sward, a small round hole from which the thick blood was CHAPTER XVIII. bubbling up, being imprinted upon his forehead. He must ha stantly. ye expired m- BLIND CRI55EY~ THE CRIPPLE. The two duellists, and the remain- I WAS now twenty-two years of ing second bent over the lifeless age, tall, well formed, and greatly re- corse. The storm of their~ passions sembling my father. I had won the was hushed, regret swept around their affections of Fidele, a young female ~pirits, and above that lifeless body slave belonging to Mr. Vernon Van they swore an eternal friendship. Vernony. Her complexion was in- The unfortunate second was burl- tensely black, but her features were ad, and Mr. Tinkey took his wife and finely chiselled. Her eyes were large, child under his hospitable roof. It and lustrous, and when she smiled, she was an unlucky shot to aim at your disclosed two rows of teeth, as white antagonist, and shoot his inoffensive as pearls. second, standing full ten feet. to the In time, we were united; and we right, that must indeed be an unlucky were happy-..happy in the conscious- shot. . ness of each others love. I was~oiily The result was, that a "stump ora- allowed to visit her twice a week, as tsr" who had been "~tumping" it the plantations were three and a half around the circuit, became the duly miles apart. elected candidate. One morning I found out thi~t my Tinkey, Esq., withdrew from the po- mother's place was occupied by one political arena forever. His airy cas- of the other females. I inquired the, ties had fallen to the ground, and his cause of her absence, but none knew. dreams of greatness had floated away I then went to Mr. Duverne. He in- like gossamer upon the suinmer-uir. formed me thatshe' had been sent to (Thus it is in life. Our fortunes are Virginia, and that I would neyer see ever changing. We mingle with the her again. The reality at once burst common herd, and glide upon the upon me. Shewas sold-sold-sold. stream. There are waning shadows My father was dead, my brother was closing around us, and our little bark gone, and now my mother had also plunges and buffets amid the curling followed. Crisse~r and myself (for Ada, waves of adversity. When contrary I very rarely saw) were all that were to expectation, we near the haven- left to cheer each others lonely way. when the beacon light of hope is (It is hardfor a family thus to be scat~ throwing its broad glare upon the wa- tered to the *inds forever. But you ters, and we stretch forth our hands say that the down-trodden have no 9 42 page: 44-45[View Page 44-45]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 44-45 '4 THE DOWN-TBODDEN; OR; affectionate feelings. Listen. All II pened many thousand years ago. ask of you, is to witness a SLAVE But he was murdered." SALE. I add nothing more. You "Oh, God l" groaned the slave- wilithere see misery which my feeble' holder, "take her away. I-I--did peu cannot describe.) not-It was-~-" Arid he fell insensi- ~And, to increase my afflictions, ble upon the floor. Mrs. Duverne Crissey, my blind sister, again was shrieked wildly, and followed the oth- laid prostrate upon a siek-bed.~. A ers who conveyed her husband to the hereditary disease that had been open air. "Where am I?" he ex- gnawing at her vitals, now threatened claimed, looking around him strange- her dissolution. Day after day, 'the ly. "Itis true that.'-.- Fool, that I skeleton form withered away. .Her am. Verni lead me 'to the house, and brain was laic'ked .'with' fever, and she ~he ~'confounded damp air' of the tossed restlessly upon her pillow. I "slam's cabin" made me faint. I will hung.above her constantly. I obey- soon recover'!" ed her slightest wish. And I wiped I was again alone with my sister. the death dews from her 'brow, while '*That was a strange scene, Nelse." I turiied n~ head away to hide, my "Oh! it was only Miss Hennie. flowing tears. - ' 'Herhe~d'is turned, and she is not as 'The orient light of morn was upon she used to 'be." the' earth, and the cool fresh breezes "It is iriorning, is it net t" were wafted fall frito the dying inva~ "Yes!" lids face. Her eye shone with.a pre- "Well, Nelse, I am about to bid ternatural brilliance, and 'broken mur~ you good bye.' You have been good mars escapedher lips. "Call Massa, to me. '~Yes,' even deformed, and hor- 8nd the family, I am dying." riNe as I wasyou loved me. I have They answered thesummons, andre- naught to keep me here below, for my ceived 'the' slaves blessing, and bade young life has been a life of sorrow, her'~far'ewell~ Hennie, the hopeless and~he world was cold and harsh. I manbic, Was &lso with ' them. blamed it not for being unkind to me, '~Criss," said she, her wild eyes roIl- when there were so many who were big in their sockets. "Criss, you are biiautif4 an4 claimed its regards. A dying, and now I want you to take poor, despisedd black slave is but a my words to Heaven. They are fear- small object; she is of less conse- fid words, Crias." '(Here a ray of in- quenee than a grain of sand upon the telligence seemedto illume her brain.) ocean-shore. But they all will be '~You know what I was once-~-~-a joy- great in a future world. I am going ous, guiltless girl. You see what to Heaven, ~else. You need not am now-~a he less irreclaimable ma- weep, for I will 'be happy there. I will niac. ,And y4.--yet what has caus- 'not be blina then. I will not be dis. ed this reaction. I forget. Ah, yes! figured, ' but angel vestments ~hall I loved, once-loved madly. The adorn' this fluttering spirit, now seek- school-master, Horton. He was true ing releasement from its earthly tone- ..-..he was noble. They' told me that ment. But I have talked too much. he was~falser No! They lie. I Be good-be virtu9us, my brother, think that he r6de away with my and-and-bury me with my-that father,' and never 'returned. Yes, is music-1 see-~Lord-I come-I Cries. He was niurde~ed~-4-cruelly co-" Her upraised arm fell heavily murdered. Oh~but...~j*es. It hap- by her side, her dull sightless orbs BLACIC BLOOD were turned upwards, and her emaci- ated features were contracted into iron rigidity by t~e chill of death. I shed no tears-they were dried up. Mine was an unspeakable agony. I would have given worlds if I could have uttered a single groan that might have broken the terrible spell of des- pair. I sat, vacantly gazing upon the corpse 'till the broad rays of..the morn- ing sun 'streaming upon the floor aroused me from my reverie. That day I' buried' her-buried her in the tall woods, far away from the prying eyes of the world. Then I thought that I would Immolate my- self upon the grave. But that would not do. Others were united to me, and a voice told me "stain not the place with ,.blood." The instrument of death was arrested. I sat all, day long by that. narrow mound. Strange, and beautiful birds flitted through the green "foliage- gray. squirrels looked .stealthily down from~the dark limbs, and the hum of insects sounded in my ears. I could have yelled with agon~y-my brain was on fire-4he huge-oaks seemed I to be crushing down upon me-4he earth was opening-my senses reeled and I knew no more. When I. recoveredit was night. 'And I was glad of it. The forest was gloomy and dark-consonant with my own dark feelings. I was' alone with the dead, and as I looked, to my r imagination, the ground appeared to s be opening, and before me was the c form of my sister-~--such as she was r in days' of yore. The spell was end- ii ed, The fountains of my soul' over ~ flowed-my breast quivered with an- c guish. a I knelt up6n the sand and prayed. t I emerged into the moonlight, and made a solemn vow. Yes I. with the a pale beams reflecting upon my up- t, turned face, I swore before' Heaven l~ that I would never rest until I hadre- fi AND WHITE. 4A1 leased myself and wife from servi- tude. Crissey, thou art gone. Perhaps it was best that thou was't taken away. Earth had no charms for thee. A som- bre melancl~ily overcast thy sky, and thy afflictions were many. I am lone- ly; but thespring of hope ha~succeed~ ed the winter of dessolation that reigned in my heart, and the warnings of despair havesettled into 6 stoical firmness. I feel changed, for I am be- reft of all that once blessed my soli- tary lot, and I wander silent-alone. dI1A]?TEt~ XIX. TIlE EDITOR Tus editor of the L-u Observ.. er, was C. M. Clayton, M. C. from the XXXV, district, Borough L. *Mr. Clayton was a Kentuckian~ bold, fearless, and resolute. Fe waS a man of noble principles, brilliant balents, and high accomplishments. Pursuing his convbitions of ~right, he fearlesslyy published in his paper son- iments of Abolitionism.'. Hevindi-~ ~ated the rights~of the'4own trod4~n~ md expressed ~hi~ahhorrence. of .tI~* 'legal s~ste~f~i1dezis. (It ~was a ri~i~e sight that-a single nan, in the very, heart of a slave state, surrounded~ by men regardless alike ~f God or the law, disseminating oh- ioxious' tenets. I sa~y~ that such a c~vement wins our admiration, be- ~use in this age'of sycoph'ancy, and orruption disinterested philanthropy like" angel 'vi~its, few and far be.. ween.") The storm was, gathering. around, nd was soofi to burst with fury upon~ lie devoted &litor'a head. Lo~vvsuI- 3n murmur& o1~ rage wei~e echoing rom the remotest bous~dsof tile st~to. 44 1 6 m i page: 46-47[View Page 46-47]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 46-47 48 THB DOWN.TRODDEN~; OR, 13t~AOIt BLOOD AND WHITE. 47 H~e'must be silenced. Yet in spite of wave. And there was the sound of the dark threats, and vague insinna- clashing steal, intermingled with tions, Mr. Clayton gave notice that he curses, and yells, and groans. would address a meeting of citizens Four of the wretches were already' at' Pines Grove on the following Tues- severed well nighin twain with' Clay- day. ton's knife which was rapidly cutting It was as fair a day as had ever a~ way through the crowded mass. visited God's reaction , and the beauty, As he emerged several followed the reposes and the harmony of Na- upon his heels. "Advance not a step 'turd contrasted strangely with the evil further, or I will fire upon you," he, passions,~ and lowering countenances exclaimed turning around and survey- of the~ vastthrong there assembled. ing his pursuers, "blood enough has The o±ator:appeared. ' Calm and been shed to-day, aiid' I would spare ~ollected he mounted the, rude. sta~g~; usele~ effusion." his round open countenance looking Whey 'quailed beneath his eye, and serenely upon the swaying multitude. the undsunted. editor left the ground, Not .a word was spoken, it was so barmedtsaye a slight wound upon still jtbat you might have thought it 'his.~cheek..:~~. . a congregAtion OtstaWes~ ~Every face ~. Two ;wqeks after this the Observer 'waspale with excitement. ' agaim~h~ ita appearance with a At, longtli'Ahe~ editor's blue eye long article denouncing its enemies in lanced slowly around; h~.raised his the most v~i~lent ~wauner. handp"~e~tt~ddans 1" Atthat~word ThAt rh~ ~hi~Ii had fora short a~1ewisAp~reMed~sound~ ~omthe dis7 time ~ ag i~rol~~ out anew, tant resr~ ~Kentuckiam 1 I have and it '~s~~e'~ to destroyy the heen told that I will not be permitted establishment~ and ~ th~~or~ ~to sp6sk here todayy" life,,. ~ 4housatul' bowie..knives were Mr~ Clayton had expeote4. 'this, and - AtawnA~u4astant; *efleoting i~ the accordingly.he made ,~i6ns to ii~a~field.of steak ' *-' ~ meet the exigency. 'The.dpors were The~speaker: paused. Before hi~ strongly barricaded; arms and am- a bris in circle of poi~W, munition were stored .aWay,~:and t~ ~ did he' cower? N~l His vojee sentinel, ~~sted to give the e4arm 'at gThw hollow ~ leVerpiination, ~id the~ first sight of'lio~tile dci onstra- he~repeated ~ow1y~bet~een his teeth, tions. ~4hia is a fehe 'country~ and ,,I~ will It Was noon-time. The ~creaking ~peak in defiance ofyon ~all 1" . presses were in motion, the Wet s~ieets &yelbfniadaessburstfromthem-r--' wer~~ thrown rapidly 'off, 'when' end- the stage Vas disn~enbered in an in- denly the "form Was knocked into stant,~ ~an4 Clayton wasi ~recipitated pi" 'by the intelligence tlu~t. an unhariiled ~up~n -their heads. ~llp immense body of th9 populace was reaol~ed~the oi*nd..with~1a 4~i~ irnife u~ion~ejiaudand'ai~o approaching.the.offlce * hunting v~ . The 'anus ~were distributed to the v~in~ih~other. ~ kewsy~for1s~i% ;3~ pointers, and apprentices as Lhey took said he with, a 'lo*~" voice, ~ by their stand l5efore the inside,400r, on heaven PWJil~w yQw thwough~ and the second floor. And' there. the t~x9ugb. With a feel~ of awe~they llltle 'b&~nd numbo*g tw~~e'in all opened ~to the right, nt4 left, 'asid he awaited the approach of their aimed had ~pa~aed ueanly4hrongh when'~they assailants. again ~4~s~d uponliim, like a mighty The mob halted in front of the 46 9 building, and forthwith commenced Thu~without blood-khed the mob the assault. The door was speedily J was dispersed. Had the* defendants broken down and the large crowd 'fired upon the assailants th~'havo~, poured in, and rushed up stairs With would have been dreadful, for crowded terrific shouts. Bu~ a sight met thejr as they were in the narrow gorge, gaze that caused them to stagger in not a tenth part would have escaped their wild career. At the top of. the alive. stairs was a large cann6ii, with Clay- Five days from this tinie~ a body of, ton standing by it, with a lighted the rabble~vatching their opportunity, match in his hand ready to apply at entered the ofike when the~ occupants a moments warning. His compan- were nearly, all absent, and destroyed ions with loaded arms at his side, the presses; threw the types out the The dense mass continued slowly windows, tore down the partitions~ to advance, those behind pushing the and reduced all to ruin. The proprie-~ ones in advance, until the narrow tor and his assistants on their return stair-way became a perfect wedge of found their own arms turned upon human beings. them menacingly, and were forc~dto "Gentlemen," saiA th~ editor, "I retire. Finding his establishment have, here a six-pounder l9ad~d~wivh ~oken up Mr. Claytonbid adieu t~ the spikes, slugs, and other mi'ssil~2which scene of his'trijls~ and left for a more if discharged will carry. dpstraction congenial. cliin~. to hundreds of you.. Now if y~u mount ~(When we iQok at this ease,'~we * another step I will fite- upon you. and exclaim, "what, is the press aiteneed? may God save you.'~ .~ Are the free thoughtsand opiaioi~eof With a groan of i~orror they felt men not to be made'kkiown ?~: Then th~they ~were being~pushed forward indeed are we advancing.. With rapid by the rear to 'inevitable destruction. strides to a monarchical despotism. Iii They saw the. ~au~iug~ brand abou~ ~o this ease we find that on account!Qf a des~end.. In imagination they ~saW~ few editorials the writer stood in 'dan- shaitpred isnd4~Weding ~corpses~.niau~. 'ger of losing his life. Thht presswhich gled un s~s~d ~frightful . w~4~ds~ so nobly apd fea$essly~vindicated the They even.~~ seemed te feel the. cold 'rights of our fellow man (though with iron, penetrating their vitals. . They. a* darker skin), was destroyed& You shaded their faces with their bands; talk aboutthe "Libertyof thei~ress2' their. contracted~bodies forced back- Hal' hal This was liberty for you. wards on the solid column, when with Ouc of the main causes of the;French a tremendous crash the stairway gave ~Revolution ot~-'80 was the bridling way under them,. aiid' the3~ wern pre. of the Press-" the great .LEVSR of. cipitated pell mcli upon: the. floor. public opinions," by which the lIght They wept with joy' at their provide~ of truth, and knowledge are uurtnred tial deliverance, for brave as they were ~ip o an eternal continuation. death was so sure, so certain, that it ur forefathers crossed the briny had made them cowardsas resistance '~ e, to see7c ~ savage shore, and still was utterly futile. The thoughts of ~e savage foes. They fouglit~ and their ,~f~iilies being left without a conqusre4. ~ ~Thon that country' from' prot~J~erazed them, and as they saw which they~had fled-that had denied the cannon from the; edge of the them, religious free4Iom-prevented~ stair 'head pointing still, down upon. them f;om following the dictates~ of them? they rushed . from the door their. cbnscienc~s, and from'ezpres~ing followed, by the others.' . their opinions raised its hand ageiu~f~ / 47 page: 48-49[View Page 48-49]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 48-49 ~i~8 THE' DOWN.TBOtiDEN;"O1~, ( t~hem here. Blood flowed like water Thira had never loved but one~~~ ~n' the red-stained ~field~, and the de- her father. The faims of the beauti- stroylug hoof of war swept along the ful Hoosier maiden was known far land. Peace was at length declared and' wjcle. The suitors that thronged after .many~ gallant men had closed around'her she disregarded, fax when their eyelids in death, to obtain for us she looked beneath theirassnmed na~ a glorious freedom-freedom in tures, she s~w the mildew of sin-she thonglit, i~ word~, and in acts. Atid j witnessed corroding atains~upen their h~ow 'mean to say, that if jou 'vi0lt a souls. And thoughshe felt ill towards .sla~re.holdin~ stats, and dare to ex- none, yet the defectiolisofothbrs drew press your abhorrance of the damning the cords ofAiher affection ~till stron- aystem~of slavery you will suffer'per- ger around her aged 'parent. For in *senahriol~ace. Yes! It is aol The hin'-and~ him only, she saw the im- fate;'of~ Jetusalem Peabody will be press of the meek and lowly Savioqr." yours~ Is this not worse despotism 'She knew that~ ~bis' course on earth than. is practiced by the rnost~ arbitra~ would soon be e ry ~dictatorial' power of. E nd~d~ and sl~e affec- 'like ~ urope. I tionately cheered his dechningyear~ 'Th~wi~k~d hear thei4~ nahir4 n~Id 'mike her nothibg el~e, seW.&condemaed~and if youtcouveme (aud ~h~ir~hL we have notiepd her with them t~l~qizt their many' faults, participa~ion'in the ~#overaor ~ ball, it ~wreoe~4 *1i~t~ Their '~sc~'ffs. w~beos~i~ in ber toheitixle for her Thuwd4~~the ~riIt~ a~frocates of serf- father~, she~*~ss inseneible to all i~round, ~~djoate4hexr ep~ressions.Kit~a and mechanically followed the' re- a~'s&ft. natiemal'1feature---that we~e~'e' qu~sts ~f~otl~e~ .wh~tw~:are.). 'r ~ It~ivas~ab~awtI sight, I weoni'to * . . - . ' ' see that gentle girl so insearably at- taohedto her't~7ther It showed 'that ' she wa~ above the gnulty ~ordid pas~' si~n~ ~f~tli~ world1 ai~4 that :in her XX. 'ldv~h~e~thly ~ather~ s~he'boi~e'a oort'espendent reverence fof her 'hen- '(riu mx~srna Ai~i) HIS DAUGETIIa. venly. one'.. When the king of day a*dse from H~ppinesswMuoW within the sin- the H~o~sier hillsbehind which h&had' i5ter'~1little cottage, enthowed with rested during' the shades of nigl~E, a benudfiil .irees; llo~ers, vines, and' lumiue~ry"of~ less night alscfollowed shtn~s, ~Ad'Tltiiw~k'ept e~~ery thing his ~eIampleA- l~hira Fairdhild the. s~i~kanad '~at that 'not aspecl~if Cler~ym~n'e 4sughter, dirt;~e~iid' ~beiieei~ n&'*her& The Aiid~*hile'tbe'de~s*er&y~v i~ipon'. grayel walk~ in thelittle gaM~n' we~e the gt~is~,, and' 'bright flowers hung ~ooleanl~-thegra4pk~ts w~e their beads languishingly she Would ~ w4"~ sallyont to catclvthe ingbr~ezes~ m~&ssothly.~toaee~- and listeii to the songn of b*de TII4r~ ln'~ed 'all kindsof ~fl~w~rs eape Theworld *~s:beai~tifuF' '~ be- olafty r6se~, 'as they 'so iauoh resess cal.ise' It rejpiced ~th~ey 'of' sttr Pled her own' rosy cheeks,,aiid coral viving parent. What' pl~ssed him lips) were propped i~pso~ nicely that was her delight, and to Tobey 'ihis th&uttn~st 'harm~n~ was blended in slightest wish was he#~eonstant sWd~ alV~ni* saw~,' ' '~'' When the mom's~Ivsi~oed, ai~d I BLACIC BLOOD AND WHITE. 49 the air grew hot, the sougeters left Thira had, as usual, taken her a~- the open fields, and sought the green- customer morning walk, (~which, b~ wood shades, there to sit silent the the way, is a very unpoetical time ~or live-long day, it was there that she took making love) 'and had reached the,~ the much-worn bible from the shelf~her gurgling brook that ran by the lo~irer delicate fingers strayilig among the end pf the garden, when she, paused. leaves, and a truant curl shading her "How beautiful," she said to herself, face, while her musical voice gave a "how beautiful those limpjd, dqpJ~hs. beauty to the comforting words of the Ha I And there is my own i~g~are~ holy book, ~ ' fiected on its mirrored surface Ali~ Thira was ofa solitary nature, and other! And-" She turned and- her sweet faQe ever wore 'an expres- denly, and there by her side was Fur- sion of sadness; bi4 this did not de- ceval Maturin. She was about to re- toriate. Give me your calm maidens. turn to the house, but he detained There is deepness of feeling, a gush- her. "Nay, Thira! I would speak to ing tenderness always springing up you, My words will be few, for 'on within them, which is never known these words, hangs. the doom of the by your wild, laughing flirts. Their being by your side. Thira, I have sympathies are so evanescent, and I long, loved you-loved with all ,th~ despise your coquette-they, are so lQi~e of an honest heart. By day, my cold, so inhuman. ~ ' wandering eyes rested upon your There was j~. young minister who forrn-.-.by night, I saw thy initge frequently visited the cottage of Mr. more glorious to my' sight than the, Fairchild, as it was within his circuit, winged worshippers of etheriuin. In, and on account of the estimation in the rustling leaves I heard 'thy voicer. which he was held by the father and and in the murmuring brook thy song~ daii~hter. ' ' ' Thi~a, you are colt and. ~pasaionless .,Purceval Maturin was a holy man. to observation, but beneath yqur ex- His young life had ever been spent in t rio; you conceal ~the Wost gen,&oiia~ diffusinghappiness to his fell. the most noble nature that, ~ in advocating the cause at' essedwoman. Then yen 'must know~ deeper. The life of the itiasr 'I ma what it is to feel asi (b-then you must~ a hard life 'to leading the wilds of the know what it is to be consumed d~sy West. Often without food or shel- after day by a~ passion as wild, as fear- ternight overtakes him,' and then his ful as this. Perhaps it is wrong to pillow isthe hard ground, his roof is love any human, being so deeply. It the starry vaults of heaven, stretch- may be detonating from God-but ing into illitimitable space. I'he one if it is sinlessthen I will tell you that who can patiently endure these hard- beneath its influence my life,'my soul ships,'must indeed be a devoted fob my all shall be sacrificed at its altar. lower to his high and gloniouscalling. Answer me, Thira! Will you become' His reward on earth is small, his' re- a minister's wife-will you save me? - ward in heaven, is great.' For God's sake, answer: me !" And: Of late, the visits of Mr. Maturin here lie knelt before her, and scizin~ had become more frequent, and of her hand, 'imprinted' it with burning~ longer duration than was usually his kisses;~ wont at~tJ~e cottage. His attentions There were tears, in Thira'a. eyQs,~ toe, to ~t4~a, were marked, but deli-i and h~r voice grew sad. "'M~r; MatiP eate. I*~r this was to, end, we will na, 1, r~spectyoti, and, were, I~4iffe~mj soon aee~,. ' ' e~itly'sih~ated, I might lo~u.'iBut~ 9' 4 page: 50-51[View Page 50-51]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 50-51 50 THE DOWN-TRODDEN; OR, BLACK BLOOD AND WHITE: 51 love can now have no place within my heart. I am wedded to the cause of zriy Saviour, and never can I resign * , my filial love for the love of the "world, however pure and guiltless it my be. Farewell, Purceval! Fare- 1" The form of the young minister * trembled as witit the might of a sup- ~i'essed ~tempest. He pressed his h~n~1~ npow his burning "brow-he reee" from the ~rouud, exclaiming:- "lost-ruined-forever." He soon recovered, but the change, In that she~rt hour he saw his "bright visions fade, never again to revive. His face now wore the impress of age, and oh! * 'what~u~'ering was traced in every line. Els heart was broken, ~nd h'e *as & lonely being; lone, lone in-J deed. Thira returned to the house; hut from that tira~ her step fell sad and do~v, anda more melancholy gloom settled upon her holy face. She lov- ed young Maturin, but her love "was smotheredby an~her more eAigross- in hi er sentiment-love for~ her~g~ed father. It's a beautifril re &td otcharacter-a sublime fdrpitt against 'eireunist~nces that we S htihe noble~ bearing~ of Thira Fair- child, the Clergyman s Daughter. CHAPTER XXI. TIlE TWO ORATORS. Faa down in the durkeome mine-en A~te lone prairie, where the wild winds~ *aliriek-~-.oii the. spreading breast""of the"oceaxx-oa the slave plantations of the sunny south there w ~uot our tale. ~ begin ~it inthe gorgeo~s senate ball- h4tbe?~iowded city, the metropolis of the Unie; it is there that we pause. We look, around at the crowded gal- leries, then at the august representa- tives of~ a nations power. All is si- lence, savethe low hum of many voices. At length the" hammer calls to or- der. Now a tall, and aged man slow- ly raises from his seat. He looks up~ on the attentive crowd, and his deep voice echoes-" Mr. Speaker." What a breathless stillness falls upon the au- ditory? Hew their very souls seem to be riveted upon the subject? What i& the cause of this attentiveness. I will tell you. But yesterday a handbill was post- ed up in themarket place, announcing that one Henry Clay-a man fresh from the wilds of Kentucky, who was formerly "The Mill-Boy of the Slash- es," was to speak ~n the subject of Slavery Compromise in the Senate. Why,~ this excitement, then? Why did multitudes pause suddenly in the street, and gaze upon those flaming characters V Why did eome knit their brows, and compress their~ lips, hissing-" the Abolitionists-the most villan~us of sIb-the vile Abolition- because a furious faction was ~"the nation to its very centre and arrayed against each other, were the frierijis ofLiberty, and the adhe- rents of Slavery. So, ott this day, they had swsem- bled to hear the words which fellfropi the lips of the "backwoods orator." Ai~d why had his sentencessuch pow- er. Thereason was, that they came spontaneously from the ~ieart-..they were.nol4inged with affectation-.--they' were the eu~ouriuga of Nature A~ain he spoke. "Mr. Speaker, this is an eventful day. The transac- tions of this day will be recorded in our national historyand be handed down toftiture posterity." ~Thus he commenced, and his spiriV~' soared into ut~explored mazes of"~rofound knowledge. Metaphar, simile, and syllogism came to his aid, and for three long hours he seemed .insensi~~ blc to all around. At last amid thunders of applause he resumed his seat. He was followed by the youngest senator in the house, Charles Ather- ton, the author. He had been re- cently elected, and on this occasion he was to make his debut. As there always is on such occa- sions, the greatest curiosity prevailed to learn what his views were. His manners and actions were* at first so awkward, that an involuntary titter ran through the crowd of spec- tatora; l~'ut as he proceeded he warm- ed with. his subject. Then the sweat stood in huge globules upon his highr white forehead-his blue eye darted around like lightning-his'~estures becax~e as graceful as the waving wil- low, and his sad silvery voice had a magic spelt which bound the heart. He became ~rancendentally eloquent. Worjls, sciences, politics, and laws were but stepping stones-he went further. His vigorousintellect went forth, and dwelt among new theo- rems, biased "on "~JogicaI deductions, and poised with undiscovered si~ns and prophecies, the existence of which had before been doubted~ His rea- sonings were conclusive, and every hypothesis tenabld. The audience were spell-bound. Astonishment was depicted in every feature. It was so silent that you might have heard the beatings of many hearts-it was painful to breath. Still those silvery cadences seemed to come and melt away to the ear like .&liau Symphonies. They satr the p~or bleeding slave as he was- they saw the infuriated overseer in his most diabolical colors..-..they saw the gross darkness ~ which pervades the mind of man in relation to Slave- ry. Yes! I say that they saw these things, and it was &n arrow U con- eviction piercing to their ~ouls And there were slave-holders there-men, rough, stern, and unfeeling who wept when they heard the cruelties which they themselves had often perpetra- ted as described by Senator Ather- ton. When ~the speaker had ended, no shouts of applause greeted his ears. There was no occasion Tor any-the subject was too dee p -too soleinn.- But whkihever way he turned, tearful eyes met his gaze, and low sighs came soft upon his ears from those "fair ones" who are averse to all chains ex- cept the ones which they throw around the "lords of creation." Atherton's triumph was complete, and though ~sfte"rwards obnoxious laws were passed, yet" many things which would haverendered them still more odious were rejected through the in- fluence of the Abolition speaker. * CHAPTER XXII. TH& MANIAC AND MURDERER. HENN!JS DErVERNR, the slave-hold- er's daughter, was still thesaine gen- tle, heart-broken maniac. But when Ada, the strange, dai*, wild girl was by, she expressed the utmost abhor- rence, and desired them to remove her from her presence; to all others, she was meek, andfielding One night, Mr. Duverne tossed rest- lessly UpOn his pilk~w, he always did at night, mutteritig incoherent words and ravings. The lam was burning dimly in its socket, *~ Mr. fluverne always had a light in the a$rtment, on account of his guilty' teiTors, "0, traftor conaci~nee, tkot~ doe$ make coward of iza page: 52-53[View Page 52-53]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 52-53 52 TUE DOWN-TRODDEN;. OR, It was now deep midnight, and the that even maniac, and crazed as she gothic clock had struck the hoar of was, she fled from his reach. "Fly twelves As the last, whirring sound not, my pretty bird, I would cage died' away, Mr. Duverne awoke. thee. Art thou in search of Cronkey He started almost from the bed, for -I am he 1!' there bending over him, was the ma- On, on she flew, followed by her niac, her great, brilliant eyes dancing pursuer. Now upon high rocks, now wildly around. "Girl, what doyou skimming along the extreme verge of here? I thought you was to bed 1"' the yawning abyss, or mounting some he exclaimed; passionately.' narrow path, she for a time eluded By this time, Mrs. Duverne also, him. But every inch, of that danger- was roused from her slumbers, and ens ground was familiar to the assas- after using much persuasion, she sue- sin, and though Ilennie passed safdly needed in her efforts, and Hennie left where no being or animal had ever the room murmuring-" I know it all, trodden before, her chances of escape all, all. hour after hour-night af- seemed to be utterly hopeless, for ter night, have I listened to his bro. npw~a.. perpendicular rock. prevented ken' words, when he thought that heifurther. progress. But h~r quick none were nigh. Jatmi glad that' he eye perceived an old log that had fall- committed not the deed. Now, my ~n over~ a deep cleft between the Horton are~you to be avenged. aa! rocks,.f~.iWtwenty 'feet wide. The de-, ha! ha l?? . ' cayedtiee had~ laid in that bridge- She silently left the house. 'By the like position~, perhaps for cent~hries, dim moonlight, she h~u~riedly pursued and now. it treitibled beneath ints own her way. All nigh~sh~ journeyed on weight.' Ir~ an instant, the' planter'~ foot. Morning f4un~ her at the daughter. was' upon 'it. The rotten "Glen." She had oil wed the trail trunk quivered, and ~hook, and sWay- of her father, and he chool-teacher, ed to and fro bemicath her weight, through the trnderwood, and now she while it seepaedto be sinking' dcwn stood before that almosteoncealed the into the .horrid defrths below. mysterious cabin.! Carefully she Cror*e~ paused ou the edge of the searched the ground around, Sud- cliff, expecting to see her disappear denly a ci~y escaped her, for at her 'from his view. 'But, no! Itw~s.al- fee1~ she saw the sand encrusted wii~h most incredible to his sense~, when he blood, and a stone near by stained saw her reach the opposite *side, un- 'like 'brimson. "' Here, it is, that he harmed.' "So, ho, my 'fine lady'! 'died.', Mnrdered-aye, cruelly' mur~ Ye's done more ~s I thought for, 'this dered. Why', did they seek his lith? tip~me. The owid tree's purty taut af- He *as inuo~eut..--he was good. his tez~ all, my covey. Wherever any one body li9s in the .fatjiomless depths of else goes, Or~nkey can fuller. So' here thisi darkeome gle'n~ and I, a feeble goes." girl;' tim here . alone,'amid these wild Stealthily, and cat-like, on all fours scenes' to avenge' his death,' o# sleep he slowly proceeded ,across the tree,. by hi~.side forever.", his eyes fixed upon the maniac, who~ A6~tliis moment, a crackling among calmly awaited his approach. ~arer' the dry twigs attracted her attention, and 'nearer he come~-the w~rsL is' andd~ookit'g around, she saw, ". Oron- past-his ha~nd is outstretche&-hu .~ey4~ the Glen.'? He made :au at- prepares to' spring-he is safe! No'! tesipt4&.sn~ie ;~ but ~the horrid grin ~the downward forc~ with. which his rendered his features so denioniaole, feet .~. rais~ hiin.se1fi~s' 'BLACK BLOOD AND WHITE. 53- defeated his hopes. The shivering I ing his saying of-'~vengeance is mine bridge parts in twain with a dreadful I will repay." So'you are the murder- crash, and the murderer sinks with it" er of Horton. I stood by my father's -No! By accident,' his fingers grasp bed side in the. silent watches of the the edge of the rock, while his body 'night, and his dreams told me all-all is suspended in the air. Death-speedy -all. Groan again? It is sweet death was before his eyes. He could music to my ears~ I' tell you I am sustain himself in that position but a mad-mad-mad I ha I ha! ha I" few moments at the longest. His vile The assassin's fingers were now body would. soon be dashed to pieces. bloodless; they were stained to'their And-would you believe it; that de- utmost tension. His arms trembled prayed,' blood-stained wretch prayed 'violently, and his head fell upon his for mercy. That which he had never' back: He made a superinhuman ef- given, he now asked for. His trade fort to' raise his body-.--he almost suc was "murder" and the blood of many neededd in mounting the steep. But victims was upon his head. I have it was in vain, for he slowly sank, and that picture before me now. The tall, his right arm fell by his side. His body splintered trees-the gray roc'ks-~-the ,swung around-his bent fingers clasp- beetling cliffs, and the falling cata- ~.ed yet tighter in~ their hold-then racts. Then the tragedy there enact- en trembled-.--then-.--then 'lag. The maniac with her dark, dis- opened, ~nd with a' halt smothered . heeled tresses floating to the winds curse he disAppeared.'. The mad girl -her dark orbs turned upwards heard hi through the tree-tops, towards~ heav- 'tance, 5 body as it fell a short .dis.~ and lodged, in some crevice~- eu-her hands clasped in the attitude 'then fell agaim$hus bounding against ol~ prayer, and her torn garments flint- rock af~r rock, until ~ dull, heavy tearing around. Then, that miserable, splash in the invisible aters below deformed wretch, clinging with the told of the horrible fats of "Cronkey gripe of despair to the flinty stone of the Glen." which has cut his hands to the 'very Then t.Jie ibaniac stood with her bone, discoloring them with blood- strained eyes gazing far down into his blank, hideous face gazing up in-1 the yawning chasm. Birds black to her'~-his abject groans, and his 'and fierce, plunged into the blackness supplicati~ns. 'Then this scene-the of space, and then emerged screaming lonely place, amid the fixed attitude of j as they flew away7'A smile enwreath- the group. The lunatic starts from ed Hennie's features-":Now Horton.' her reverie. "~Ha! ha I ha! I have thou art indeed avenged." The rtext you then, you thought that .yo~i had moment the place was ~mgain solitary, me, you cringh~g, quivering demon.1 and deserted as before. A faint sound Ha! ha! Now, answer. me! Did you of 'footsteps in the distance told that. murder 'Horton I" . . Hennie Duverne had departed. "Yis I but for. God's sake-for thee love of Heaven, save me. I 'killed him. Save me. It wis IIorton~and- Oh, save me, I am failing. Quick'1U Ha! ha! die! I am so happy. You made me mad-mad-mad for- (/1 ever.. I could quencl~' my ~hirst in blood. But no I will not stain my hands in~yours. 4 just God is fullui~-1 A page: 54-55[View Page 54-55]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 54-55 I THE DOWN-TRODDEN; OR, BLACK BLOOD AND *HITE. rel of pork, fifty five picayuncs. But-- CHAPTER' XXIII. ter two bits per pound, and other charges in proportion. The main (A CHAPTER DEVOTED ~FO THE rlwxnvs bulk of the stock consisted of a piece AGAiN.) o~fiannel (which had once been red) nIneteen yards long. Seventeen bar- Iu the, last we noticed scenes of role full of nothing. Eight empty b~gs, bloodshed and' terror, life in itsmost and numerous boxes from Ciucmnatti, revolting characters. This although full of something unknown. not impregnated with such scenes, Mr. Tinkey was sole monarch of still shows that the world is .a world this establishment, unless we except of vicissitude and.wo. . the wife, and babiese" who were co-- 'Tinkey Esquire was an unlucky partners of course. "Well wife," said Aan.' Though 'Fortune had favored the little man-" Whey he! Oh, dear. him at first in the shape of a legacy I declare that this is dull business, 'from a. deceased relative, she now like now ten days have passed since .we a capricious horse threw her rider, have had a customer, but we must amid the" coznmoii ~stock," and left take it easy old woman. He I he! him ~ take care of~himself.' ho! In a short time Tinkey through the "Do you call rneold woman," said kindness extraordinary 'of his friends the mother of the "mammy darlings." for whom. 'he had endorsed, found "I wean young woman I" qni6kly himself~' under the fence." answered the hen-pecked husband as Beggary stared. Jiim~ in the face. she left with the infants." Ha commuiiicated hispisfortnnes to Mr. Ha~din's Irish servant jiow his wife, and .she wept long, and bit- came in.~ "Does yes be for kaping tarly. Evex~ .~ babiese~ the "young sugar here I" ~sffectionates set up a hubbub of cries, '"Yes mann I" answered the do- a~id 'sc~-eTh~s "paw-paw" "~nd-maw- lighted merchant as the vision of maw." 'All was confusion. ~ ' dimes and dollars crossed his mind. Through the ". gen~ros.ity of a few "And ye'll be for giving me half a creditors he was permitted to remain stun of the same V' in his mansion, by paying a moderate This last puzzled the novice ex- rent. The mostuseless furniture was cet~dingly. "Hal~of what inarm I" sold, and from .tbo sale he realized a " Half an stun surel" ;Slim sufficient to engage in the "gro- "We don't. weigh here with stones cery, dry-goods,' and' wet-goods busi- marm; we-weighs wit~i weights I" ness."'' ' ~ Dod luck to the. like of ye's-I'll. So now we see the good-natured be for laving ye's if I don't have the man snugly. ensconced in a small one sugar 1" story frame,, tenameut,"~O-4o, the The thoughts of losing his custo- front part being'the store, the rear the mer roused hiss. lie hurried out of dwelling. There were' numerous signs the door, and soon returned with a hanging up as-" Green incas boot~.--- i.~rgq~stone and sledge hammer. At *blue ladies stockings-yellow)lrkin~ length, after pounding away with 'butter-cheese---..sugar.-.-risf, and nu- might and main,' he had the satisfac- pierous other articles, then there were tion to see the rock 'part in twain. .the pricesgiven, for instance a barrel With a ~ok of joy' he immediately of flour was marked, "fifteen cents, placed one of the "half stuns" in the twelve dollars and a quarter. ~A bar- scales. ' . -. * "Yer the divers own c~iilder. Troth an did ye's niver lam that a stun was 14 pounds." Tinkey's countenance immediately "fell -a feet." lie weighed out the commodity, .ond the Irish girl left the store. Presently judge Ford's negro enter- ed-" Good morning Masen rinkey !" "Goad morning Caisar, what can I do for you to-day I" * "Well lufe s~e Massa Ford want one oh de tinge wid de bpout, and handi'. ~ufs me alone-what does you call im l" "A tea-pot." "Dat's lw-I gubs it up. Dis ole nigger am growing dismematory. Well lufs have do child den I" Mr Tinkey here opened one of the boxes from Cincinnatti containing somethingg" -and~ after displacing straw-breakin& glass ware,'aud dam- aging other crockery to the amount of ten~' dollars, the price of a dozen "'tea-pots, he found the desired arti- cle, which he placed in the scalif, (for Mr. Tinkey sold everything by the pound, even calico -an~ molasses.) It weighed too mu~li1 4p~prdingly it was but the wofk of a mo~i~it to knock off the spout. Too henvy~yet, so the- handle also followed the~fat~ of its predeopor. This made 'the "urn" too light-this was i-emedie by breaking ~he spout in two, an~ thrown~ it 'In the scales' "It Weighs a little more than two pounds E~aisar; but no matter, I am a generous man. He l he I hot And he handed the spotless, handless vesselto the slave. The negro laughed till tears stood in his eyes. "Oh,~ d6'tord W1~at'a. do child for you. Do tea can now - run out ob two hung holes. Oh, do holes you've mad~; you'v., spoiled do chile, Massa Tinkey, but if you say ~ode ~i~ger takes 'do holy boy to "Yes1 rn charge it to Mr. Ford's account whic~i is opened this morn- ing l" The little man swelled out his. chest, and with a pompous air, point. ing' to the door, he said-" Go Caisar, it's all right!" The slave left. This manner of st~re-keeping created a great laugh in - L-n~ and poor Tinkey4 finding that if he continued in thisbusiness a few days longer, he would starve, wisely resolved to receive the benefits by be-. coming the consumer himself. CHAPTER XXIV. THE LOVERS. "FATHER 1" said Thira Fairchild, one morning, "I would not leave to day, for the skies look dark and low-, ering." "What is that to an old iteneran~ like myself; For Ofty, years have I braved the stormy ~o1ement~, 7and the tempestuous passions of earth. And now, thougVage is up~n me, and I feel my blood course thin, and slow yet will' I not turn aside from 2th~ cause of Christ. StiU will I Jali&r t6do good-a-still will [follow that pr~~4pt- "Let your light so shine befor~ men, ~th~t they may see your good works, and' lo$fy your Father *l$lch is in oiL' Now, farewell, ira." a' e mounted his'liorse ~1~tli~ door, was so lost in' the~ distance. ~ra always Ii frieuds,'a' when her £~ther ~a away, they w~j~ d often re- main'with her. "I 'fe4'~ a presenti- ment that something dr4dful is soon to happen. What it ~~know not 1" said she after her ~pa~it's depa.rturo to one of the nei&h'bors. . * * '* * * * 54 55 b page: 56-57[View Page 56-57]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 56-57 -56 ~TRE DOWN-TRODDEN; OR, Qee' year had now passed away thin~crouchiug at your feet. I have' i4ithout bringing any tidings of Pur- struggled-~Oh, how I have struggled ceval' Maturin. Had he died? Had against my feelings, and now you see lie fled to another land? What had what is left of me-nothing-noth. been, his fate? in~ but a wreck. I have come to bid Thira remembered him-his noble you farewell ere I die." nature-his gentle manner; and deep The minister's daughter turned pi~ity. And as 8he remembered, ~he away, aad~ wept-wept; hot, bitter tr~asared his every saying in her tea he~irt, she loved. But she saw that it 4a rs of repentance. She sank into seat near by, and Maturin seated was in vain, for"she had rejected him, himself by her side. "Forgive me, and now perhaPs it had been her fault, Purceval," "the sobbed as her head ~hathe' was 'ruined, self sacrificed.- rested upon his bosom, "I have been And as she thought' thus, she wept, the cause of your sufferings. Yes! and now it' wiis that she first learned a wild, heedless girl. I thought that -that she had,. loved, him, unknown 'you had no place within my heart; even to herself. but how different. Forgive me my One night the gentle winds sang sin, and I. will die with you I" through the rustling Jeaven, and bowed "Ye;" said the clergyman, and his the heads of the sweet flowers. The voice grew more solemn, in its sadden- inoon~hone n~ot, bi~t the bright-ey~ed ed cadences; Yes, Thira-.-when I stars 8eertled to be playing bopeep i~s '~ felt my very life blood oozing away * they flitted by, one by one. The drop by drop-when I felt my fevered *orld. was'a'world ~f beauty now, for brain sending electrical fires to my a holy ~tiIlne~&reigned around, broken heart's core-when I withered day af- eiily by the hum of many insects, ~ ter day, I cursed you not-'.not a the call of the whippo-will. I inui:mur of reproach escaped my lips, 'ThiM'w~ alone in the garden.-.-. although the cause efmy anguish was II~r t ug~4~ Were of the han~1some your unre~iiProcah affection. Ever young cI~ergy~man. "Could 'I but see since that 'fatal morning, my abode h agai~ l'~ she ejaculated.. ' has ~been among the fastnesses of At tikat in~oment, she felt a hot Knob ~Athold. I have prayed for "'breath uponher cheek, a voice echo- d'eatli, and now I feel its icy hands up. eflin her ear, '~' Thira, I am here." on n~c. I could not die amid those Sh~eturned, and there kneeliyig at glens unseen, and uneamd for, so I her fdtt was Purceval Maturin. But thought to rash into your 'presence, he was ehanged-Oh, how changed4~nd 'breathe out my life ~t your feet." By th~-41pt' Iight~ she. saw that ~'his j '~ cheeks ~iinl~en,. and of a g Purceval, talk not thus. Live lastly and I will love you-live7 and I will pallor-hi ~e shone, with an n~n~t- be your's, forever!" ural glassi~ '~ ~hishelJpw, veice h A strange light played upon Mati. a tone ol~adness-hi~qiair was tin! 'na's countenance.-..-his high, white combed 4d disbvetled, and. hi~,1 f r~he~udbecarne free from the wrin~ clothes wei*.ijorn and i~hreadbare. klcs of care, and his large; blue 'eye But still, there was,.' despite this shone as in days gone by. change, the 6"ginal Purceval Mattunin, He clasped b~r in a longlong em~ We p'hilanthr~'p,~t, .tb~ true hear~ed. , brace, and i1~pressed kisies upon her "Thira despise ~uot the unmanly brow. "Thira,' I little thought "thia;' BLACK BLOOD AND WHITE. and how can I claim your love-the lost, the guilty, the ruined? . I have sinned-sinned deeply against the Al- mighty, and all, because I thought that you scorned me. Oh, pray for me, Thira~ and I will bless you. I am too impure now to 'dare to ask for your hand, so I bid you adieu. At the end of another year, we will meet be- neath the old oak at night, then may I claim your love. Farewell I" He covered her face with his burn- ing salutations, embraced' her long and lovingly, and then departed. The x~ext moment she 'was alone. But the wild poetry of his thrilling words seemed still to be sounding in her ears. Her heart fluttered, and a sensation of pain shot through her frame. She slowly repeated to herself, "En4 of an- other year-we meet-No l Yes, I will meet him-I'll fly to his bosom, to be parted never in this.~ But, my father.' Alas, I must resign alL Love for my father triumph, though I die inthe wild strngglewhile my father lives I cannot leave him. Pun- ceval, thought my heart is breaking , I resign thee, forever~-aye, foreven~ And it's a gloniousexample, this.b~.~ it approaches nearer to the 'character of angels than to a being ~of this sin- ful world, where want, misery,' and death hold their revels. It claims the .attributeaof 1a~pninciple fashioned in the similitude of all that is holy, vir- tuous, and pure. Would to God that such examples were many. "Ram est adeo ooncordia former atque pudi- tithe." CHAPTER XXV. NELSE. ABOUT this time, a child was born tome. M~r joy~knew no bounds~ and for a time in my solicitude for the lit- tle stranger, I forgot my many woes. Day after day, she grew apace, and~ her features were the exact counter- part of hermother's, regular and beau- tiful. 'Zilly, for that was her name, was a gentle child. Poor little slave. I thanked God that he implanted in- fantile unconsciousness within her breast so that she saw not the misery in store for her future years. On the bright Sabbath mornings, I always hastened to the cabin of Fi- dole. Then with little Zilly in icy arms, I would walk to the green shade~ by the crystal waters of "the little creek, and then I was happy. Hap. py in my love for my wife and' child.. On~ day, I called as usual, and was surprised to find little Zilly in a burn- ing fever, and very ill. Fidele pre- veiled upon. me by her earneat"solici-' tations to remain with her-during the' night... Towards morning the ~young sufferer fell into a. gentle' slumber, and with my heart filled with the hope of her speedy recovery, I retui~ned to the plantation The' first person that I saw was the overseer; a cloud had gt~thered upon his brow. "Nelse, you rascal where have you been-how did you dare to remain out overnight?" "My child was ill, and I thought to watch by its side." "Tending your black brat. 'Well, that's a pretty story. If the thing wants to die, who cares "I care I" I replied firmly.' "None of your sauce, Nelse, or by heavens, I'll stripe you I" "I am not afraid-for I have done xo harm." page: 58-59[View Page 58-59]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 58-59 THE DOWN-TRODDEN; OR, * "You d.- scoundrel! Off with * your jacket!', "I shall not, sir.!" The enraged supervisor rushed to- * wards me; but before he reached me I seized a~small board, and.atru,~k him to the ground, where he lay br some time insensible. The whole circle now sallied out, and I was beund hand and foot. I had committed an unpardonable sin, according to the views of my oppres- sors-for to their'ey~s, the person of the overseer is sacred, and we be to the poor-negro who resists his power. Well, what do you think was my ~ punishment. Conceive of the most horrible infliction of pain. Conjure up the most direful image of torture, and you will faUshort. You will not- cannot have an idea of my sufferings. TAey~deformed me! Yes, it is too horrible for belief!! They changed the shape of .that body which God had created. For six long monthawas I chained in a damp, dark dungeon under the I ground. My shoulders were bound around with cords, a~d my head was drawn down, soth~t my chin rested up- onmy breast. Thuiwasi suffered to~ re~ skialn, without seeing th~ light of day, except only ~a few- glimmering rays when one of the slaves brought me a dry crust, and a cup~of impure water. All the rest of the time it was night '.black midniglft. ,Half of the suf- ferings I there endured as the long, long hours passed drearily away, my tongue can never tell. It seemed as if I was' in pandemonium, the sole sur- river, for all others were dead.'-.-there was a loud ringing forever in my ears -my blood ceased in its circulation, and my body became so numb, and painless that you Might have pierced to ~he very bone,.and I would have felt it not. Reason tottered on its' throne, and my aching brain was filled with images of dying infants, weep. ing mothers, and crazy. fathers. At times I laughed, so horribly, so fear- fully, that at' the sound thereof, cold chills like crawling serpents caine up- on my hack. Then again I would set for entire days without having the least recollection-all would be blank and obscured. God, knows how I ever regained my reason, I do not.- For I was mad there-in that dark- some hole. It's a tale of diabolical malice, and the quicker I relateit,,the better, for when the memo~ of those hours crosses my mind, I shedder from my very soul, with strange hor- ror.' When I awoke from my stupor I was lying in my own bed. I ti)rned' to look around wh~en ~ sudden twinge of pain shot through my back. I en- deavored to rise, and now I found 9ut that I was kump4ackecj. That I who had prided- myself on my nQble person, and manly beauty, was ously deformed. "Oh God thou hast indeed afflicted incA Why did they wreak such a deadly revenge? . Why~ did they not tear my back with their, torturing lash until nature sank ex~ hausted. That would have been a merey~-it would have been kind-it would ~have received their damning cruelty of the most rev~4tin; aspect, for then I might have died. But to drag~hrough life suffering a thousand deaths in both body, and mind, I de- clare"it is horrible." 'Such was his con- stant lamentation. I hastened., to Fidele, and found out that little Zilly had recovered. This gladdened my heart, and I thanked God that he had not utterly~deprived me of every solace. "Forgive me, if 1 have given this sketch an air of incredibility. I aver that it is true. That this unheard of 'I BLACK BLOOD AND WHITE. punishment is without parallel, -in the throw off your lethargy? Arouse annals of the bloody inquisitions or your latent powers and come up to devilish devices, you will readily the aid of the .weak, against the agree. And if you agree, then you mighty. For a cry, a deep cry is will see the wrong-the sufferings- coming up from the land of Ethiopia, theoppressionsof the " down troden." and the pestilence of despair is stalk- There have been, ~nd there may be ing abroad in the sunlight, and it books written in favor of the "system," resteth not in tile darkness of night. in order to refute opposite arguments, The world is unsheathed, an4 in the but they are not to be believed, or if name of the Most High we will bat- true the examples of humanity among tie for the right till the victory is the slave-holders of the south are few ours. Let us not enjoy freedom, and far between. while others are languishing in the (It is true that there are not many chains of slavery. Liberty~ toute en- cases of theparticular caste of this ti~re. onebut there are others almost equally barbarous, and such~cases are actual occurrences. The slave holder values his negro in the same light as we would hold a horse. The~tronger he CHAPTER XXVI. is-the better his appearance, iy~hy of a consequent he -is more valuable (anunnx FAIRCHILD.) to the owner, or if he wishes to sell, his worth is enhanced by the gifts As we have noticed the Rev. Reu- which nature has given hbnwhether ben Fairchild had an appointment of intellectual or bodily powers, cons- fulfill at G~alena, a small town distant. bined with natural comprehensiveness, eight miles from theriver. He yeach- And when we see a ma~n abuse even ed his destination at night-fall, an~l his beast when the task is too heavy, on the following day he organized a and the noble animal is straining every series of meetings. Thus for. two nerve, and sinew, do not our hearts weeks was his voice heard in the log. bleed with pity? And is not oUr in-' school-house exhorting sinners to flee dignation excited against the cruel the wrath to come. owner? Do. we not wish that he Reuben Fairchild *as a man of the should suffer some of the punishment right stamp; he resembled the holy for his inhumanity? - men of former days. But the times Then, when we see a being of flesh are sadly'altered nOw. Go with me and blood like ourselves, embodying to your thriving cities. Do you see the similitude of an all-powerful crea- that massive architectural pile, with' tor-blessed (No I I mean cursed) its spire looming up against 'the sky, with reason-animated. with life, and as if its originators could step from capable of progressive improvement, the top to heaven? Enter with me- writhin'g under great tortures, ought You are poorly clad. Ah I a orter not our sympathies to be enlisted? opens not the gothic door. W~sil, I Ought we not to feel more acutely enter alone. My feet press upon the for our fellow man than for ~Mumb soft tapestry as I gli~le dowathe long beast? I ween we shoi~d. Then if aisle, and seat myself near the pulpit. you do, why not arouse? Why not I gaze around; Theatrical circles of e 4 page: 60-61[View Page 60-61]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 60-61 THE DOWN-TRODDEN; OR, * gorgeous colors are above your head. Late in the afternoon, he met with Huge pillars entwine, and meet a gilt five fugitive slaves, two of which were trellis work. Chandeliers hung with men, one woman, and two children. * glass prisms, are glittering with brass The minister accosted them, "wh'itb- and silver ornaments. The sun's rays er are you proceeding, good folks ?" strike feebly through the stained win- - "We's gums to Annady, please dows. It would not do to have the Massa I" said the eldest man of the pure, unadulterated lfght of Heaven party. abusing upon them, for that would re- ~' Please, Massa !" echoed four other mind the fashionable congregation voices. buried in silks, furs, cloth, feathers, "You are slaves are you not ?" * and jewelry, of their own. impurity. "No, Massa; we ain't slaves I" The minister-he is a middle-aged "Tell me all, I am your friend, and man dressed in the height of fashion, will aid you 1" Words flow from his lips softly, and They were suspicious at first, for every sentence is smoothly, and beau the thought that he might be oneof tifully rounded. It would not do to those ~ho deliver, up the "fugitives~~ talk ungrammatically therethat would to their masters again, being stimu- offend the ear. They would not ha- lated by gold-blood-stained gold. tea to a half-educated orator. No- "Well, Massa, we's belongs to Mas- not they. Oh l they are so religious. sa Armstrong, in Louisville, and we Now, the deep, rolling thund&s of the 'cross de rubber lass night to Jefferson- organ re-echoe through the vast vault. ville. So tiow we's bound for de land It would not do to have the natural ob freedom 1" music of the human voice-it would They were now twelve miles from not do to have Methodistical hoister- Jeffersonville, on the Indiana side, and ogsnesa of ancient days, sounding in night was nigh at ha~miL- Suddenly their ears, although it is a Methodist the quick ear of the ministerr caught palace for worship. And besides our the sound of horses hoofs. And look- musical taste is so much improved ing backwards, he saw a thick cloud * now, for we h'a~e heard a Jenny of dust in the road. And at intervals, Lind-a Catherine, Hayes-a Sontag the slfouts of puraders were borne up.~ and an "All-bony."' Oh, we are so on the breeze, for as~ yet they were * much improved. Yes! Indeed! far in the rear. Not ~a moment was Little penny dabble-scribbles with to be lost. Mr. Fairchil4 immediate- two idea., and an "ounce of wit," now ly seated the woman and child before days write in the "weeklies, the dai- him on the horse, while the other, a lies, and the hourlies," about "bass" boy of six years of age was mounted -" Soprano"---" Cavatina overture" behind. "Run for your lives I" he -" Arie capulettee Monteechi, II Be- exclaimed, as he applied his whip with vitore" finally ending 'with "Ozze- might and main. xgzxzi ~ which in "Turcoman Mus- And now commenced a race be- sh~xnarcz," means "less than nothing." tween the minister, the two male ne- Oh, how improved! But I. am di- groes, and the pursuers. -'. For two gt~essin . miles they continued their course, but Mr. ~airchilds engagement had now were soon overtaken by the party, expired, and he turned his face home- which consisted of eight Kentuckians, wards. . . assisted by a number of floosiers BLACK BLOOD AND WHITE. 61 "Halt, or we'll shoot you down I" long, long yearsof imprisonment worse And'the fugitives did stop; for resist- than death, for the sake of causing a ance would have been useless. They, disturbance, or from feelings of ma- together with the clergyman, were lice, or from benefits arisiiig to him- then bound, and the overjoyed captors self. Ha l ha I precious benefits.- hastened back with their captives to The benefit of being scoffed at-of LouL4ville. being fettered to the floor-of being Here they recePied their reward-mo- deprived of the light ofda5'.-.--of being ney which they divided among them- confined with' felons, and of suffering selves, and left their prisoners to he 'all that mind and body could suffer dealt with as the natXlre of their and live. crime demanded. I think that this example of forti- (Now again we see the venerable tude under affliction-righteousness minister iu the square, stone court- in adversity-endurance against an- *house of Louisville, waiting to be guish, anddevotionin misery approach- tried. Though the excitement here, es a little higher to the character of was not so intense as it had been at our blessed Redeemer than is wont .to Frankfort, still prejudice was excited be exhibited in this abodeof sorrow and ao'ainst him, and after a short absence change. I think that the reward to the jury returned with a verdict of such a man will be great in after life. guilty! Then Judge Avery arose and For such philanthropy as his is Un- said-" Reuben Fairchild, you are a wearied in its struggles against ty- mjnh3te~ of th~ gospel, how far your ranny, ever using its influence for the religion goes, the world may judge.- good of mankind. It is a sun- a For you, an old man, with silver hairs, glorious sun throwing* its struggling this depravity is horrible. You are rays through the dark tenpests, at~d accused of running off the slaves of stormy clouds of ignorance; supersti- Mr. Armstrong of this city, making tion, and diabolical malice. the second time that you have been There are a few men in this world convicted of the same offence. And like the Rev. Reuben Fairchild-and. now the court in consideration of your only a few. The rest are stoics, com- age and feebleness, have mercifully posed of self-interest, misanthropic decreed that your imprisonment shall views, and sinful ambitions. They only continue for the term of fifteen move through the world with their 7/ears, in the Frankfort penitentiary. " eyes shut, and their ears stuffed. When And then they loaMP his palsied they die a marble slab marks their limbs with chains-heavy chains, and resting-place ; thi~ falls to the ground, dragged him away to meet his fate. a new generation arises, and 'they are (Reader, l~ol~ attentively at the forgotten. But not so with the philan.. case before you; the~a if you exclaim thropist, his deeds-his noble deeds- -"Right, it served him right; what live in the memory of those~whomhe business had he to meddle with the has befriended, when his body has property of others, the fanatical Abo- been long united with its mother dust. litionist"-why, then your heart must I wo~Wrather have the fame that he~ indeed be. obdurate. Ion 'floward-the philanthropic It is reasonable-it is in nature, Howar ,~than that false glory which that a man-a man in the decline of is associated with the mightiest of life, when his totterimig form is about earth's blood-stained conquerers~) to sink into the gr~would suffer -~ 0 page: 62-63[View Page 62-63]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 62-63 62 TIlE DOWN-T CHAPTER XXVII. A CHAPTER OF ii'ORROR. ADA-my sister Ada had now grown up to be a graceful and beau- tiful woman. The family seemed to regard her as one of their own, and * as they had despaired of Hennie ever recovering her reason, they forthwith * Mopted my. sister-my white slave sister~ Mr. Duverne bad resolved to take a pleasure excursion in company with Ada and Verni. The eventful day at last came, and the trio took their do- parture~ Thd~y visited Niagara~ Falls, and were lost in coiiten~pIa~ting the .grandeur of Nature 's most sublime works. Verni had a taste for the beautiful, and he passed. whole days amid 'the whirhug spray, threading the most intricate caverns, lie gazed at the shifting rainbows.circling above = the vast body of falling waters. He ~,saw e~igles'd~rting from their eyries, whirling through the dense vapors, ~iid mingling their screams with~ the loitd thunders of the Lataract. After remaining at the "J~'alls" for some time~ they left for Saratoga, to participate in its giddy pleasures-to swill down champagne, and to flutter around the blaze of fashion. Among the visitors, was one Col. Sanford, a wealthy planter who resi- ded at New-Orleans. He became ac- quainted with Mr. Duverne, and was by' him introduced to his daughter (unnat~iral daughter) Ada. Her e~c- treme beauty, her natural grace, and great vivae.ity won the regards of the Southerner, and he became her con- stant companion. lie rode out with her, he danced with her, and they took moonlight walks together. The sea- son was now about over, andMr. Du- RODDEN; OR, verne left for Philadelphia, Col San- ford accompanying the party. They. remained in the city two months, at- tending balls, parties, and soirees. At the end of that time the stranger in- formed Mr. Duverne that he had ob- tained the consent of his daughter, and if he would. acquiesce the marriage ceremonies would immediately take place. The consent was given, and the day fixed,. It was rumored through- out the fashionable circles that the rich Col. Sanford was soon to be~ uni- ted to the lovely brunette who had caused such a sensation. The night at length came. The wedding was to be consummated ~t the princely mansion of Mr. Archer No. ~O Franklin Square. The rooms were filled to overflowing with invited guests. Lights were flashing-around music gave forth its sweetest strains, and costly perfumes were wafted through the apartments. And there were women, beautiful as a dream, their. silvery laugh rhiging out as clear asif they hadnever known a day of sor- row. Men, too-men ehiyalrous, and handsome. The couple stood up to be united. And now a death-like stillness fell up- on the assemblage, all eyes were di- recf~ed toward the splendid pair. And Ada-Oh, she was wondrously, sur- passingly b tiful. ~Never w~s being so lovely be . The clear blood man- tled her dark cheek-her hair fell aroup4 her shoulders in a thousand glorious ringlets-her large, midnight eyes shone lustrously, and her bosom swelled like ~ heaving wave of the ocean-she appeared to be so happy. Her dress was of white satin, and she was decorated profusely with jewelry. And at that hour-when~ a deep stillness was around, and solemnity marked each face, a shrill voice was heard in the hall, and the door was 4P~ I burst open while a being entered.- This being was a negress! She was so old, that her crisped hair was as white as the driven snow. Her flesh hung in folds upon her stiffened bones -her upturned eyes revealed a horri- ble ~vhite, and her grinning teeth chattered together. The company stood mute as if the "Witch of En- dor" was before them. "I've trabelled all de w~y from Ole Birgiany to come hero. Ohwa I ohwa I" And her loud, shrill voice struck a chill to ev- ery heart, but no person stirred. "Yes,~~ said she, "ye're a fine gem- men. Ye's want to marry my daugh- ter do ye I Oliwa! owha I And may be ye's tinks dat-dat she be's de dar- ter of Massa Duverne. No it taint. She be's mydarter. Afin~i gemmen to marry do gal ob de Ole nigga like me. Massa, 'tot dat when he sold me, I'de nebber come back, and dat he could play do possum-but do nigga keep her eye-teetscut. Ohwa l ohwa I" And the loathsome creature 4proach- ed Ada, and imprinted a kiss uponher brow. The bride fell insensible to the floor, and the old negresa disappear- ed. The company robbed their eyes as if they doubted their senses; but when they looked around, she was gone. Au universal shriek of horror re- sounded through . the apartments.-.- The bridegroom stood transfixed to the floor, his whole form quivering like an aspen leaf, his eyes glowing beneath his shaggy brow like living coals. "Incarnate fiend I" burst from his lips---" Demon, what dam.. fling contrivance impelled you to palm, off you foul offspring-the child of a negress upon me. Deceiver I Take thy reward l" And as he spoke, he drew a revolver from his breast pock.. et, and fired, once-twice. Mr. Du- verne fell upon the floor, an'd Col. * if' 63 Sanford believing that he had slala him fled from the house. This was & tragic conclusion. Some of the party swooned away-others were carried out screaming, and all was confusion. A few gathered around the wound- ed man. He opened his eyes. "H6r- ton, away. I did not slay you. Hen- nie, it was Cronkey--the-the-Oh I I am dreaming a fearful dream. Ada -Col. Sanford-The marriage-The old egress. Oh, I see now. I am dying l God, forgive me. No, 'he caCnot forgive a wretch like me. My clothes are spongy, wet with blood.- The bullet is lodged in my side. ,Hell'a direct curses be upon my murderer. Verni, I command you to avenge my death. Away, I. say, ye light winged ghosts. Ye shadowy forms of anoth- er world, away. Or by-Horton, I-" The planter became torpescent, and he was conveyed to his hotel.- The wound wan severe, but not fatal, for the bullet had taken a. dowawar4 course, and lodged against the hi~ bone. For three months and a hal, he was confined 'to his room, and the agojiy he suffered was great. Verni, in the meantime had departed for Kentucky,' but Ada remained. Spring was now at hand, and Mt. Duverne was impatient to proceed home. According y, they proceeded to Hnrrisburgh, by railroad, and then to2k a stage coach to finish another part of their journey. For six days they had passed through the beautiful scenery, and rough crags which are found on the high mountainsof the Key Stone state. It was a cold, blustery day in March that the coach stopped at a little inn on the summit of the Alleghanies. It was a very old building, and its crazy shutters slammed violently to and fro, while the*decayed sign cracked as it 9 BLACK BLOOD AND WHITE. page: 64-65[View Page 64-65]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 64-65 swung heavily upon its hinges. Anon talking with Jenks-" What kind of fitful gusts would rattle the branches weather are we to have to-night of leafless trees, or whistle loud and I Jenks l" shrill through the crevices of the gray "Wall," said the landlord scratch- rocks. A wild and lonely place was I ing out his tangled locks, and looking this, on a peak of the Alleghany mona- ubiously at th~ frowning heaven, tains, and it seemed to be a fit place "Wall I kinder ka ikerlate that it Will for!the accomplishment of any deadly be a regular Jlamby muster, it will, and scheme. so it will l" '~Iere at this place the vehicle stop- "I'm be darned Jenks if I like to ed, ~and a change of horses and driv- go down the mountains, what would ers took place. The ~ew driver was you say about it? Hurra, its getting a rough, weather-beaten man, "I say, dark. Curse the wind, its blow'd my Jenks," said he in a deep, guttural old tarpol'on off !" voice, "pass them there are two ducks "Wall O'Niel you kerstand driv- out of the covey I" ing, but I am a regular old stager. "' Il I l" answered the old inn- Now I've drov'd over these are 'ills keQpe~', and soon he returned with for fifty years through rain, hail, snow two persons. One was a youth ap- and flamby gusters, and I tell yer pareutly not over eighteen. He was that I have never been deceived, now dressed in the costume of a sailor-boy, you can kerwollop me if you don't ~His wide shirt color as it lay open, have one of the worst fiamby busters exposed a neck of snowy whitene~s, that 'as come keslap 5gm' the old and raven curls overshadowed his face ~ganies." Here the conversation fell which was painfully beiiutifal, on ac- to a whisper, and Mr. Duverne could count ~f its expression of child-like only catch the words-" The Black itmoceace. But had you ,looked at Witch of the Alleghanies-.for God's hjs eyes you would have seen that sake-never rode before-30 miles, they were the eyes of a maniac-~they and Grey Mare~" The rest of the were so preternaturally bright, so colloquy was so low as to be inaudible, wild and restless. The other wa~ an and when it was finished the driver old woman~' her form bent nearly in took his seat-as he exclaimed, "are two, and ~yeloped in a red flannel the lamps lit, Jenks l" cloak from head to foot. All that "Yes!" could be seen of her countenance was "All right then. Good-bye 'Jenky I" one eye which peeped from a small "Good-bye; but have a kere for hole iii 1iei~ veil. - the flamby muster I" The old woman entered the coach The next moment O'Niel cracked with Ada and Mr. Diivern~, but the his whip-the horses started forward yQi~t~ insisted upon mounting up -the coach body rocked once or alongside the driver, and accordingly tivic~ and then followed the regular took his seat. His eyes now shone trot of hoofs, and the dull rumbling with a stranger light, and a smile of of the heavy wheels. mysterious import played around his Not a word was spoken inside, but mouth; the three gazed silently upon each The driver had not yet* mounted other. Suddenly the sun which had fo~ he stood by the horses brushing been obscured for four days broke qffthe~r loose hair with his hands, aiid throiigh the driving clouds, and shon~ 64 1 'a 64 THE DOWN-TRODDEN; OR, BLACK BLOOD AND WHITE. 65 for an instant upon their faces. And I waters, and the howls of aifrighteci as it illuminated them, Mr. Duverne animals mingled with the' noise. saw that horrible, one white aye And in the midst of the tempest, Without the least particle of a dark loud, ringing laugh was heard sound pupil glaring upon him. A feeling ing above, while a deep groan follow- ~ of fear crept over him~ He thought ed, and something fell Iheavily to the that he had seen that eye before, but ground. The carriage jolted over a couP not recollect where. soft substance, and the driver now And when the sun again disappear- yelled and rapidly plied the wliip~upon ~d, darkness ensued. The infant the backs of the snorting animals.- wailing of the storm, swept 'above Mr. Duverne looked out from the lit- those high ridges faintly, but fearfully, tie side window, and by theeleotrical and even the very air assumed the light, saw that they were dashing properties of a visible, drifting vapor, along the edge of a shelving preci.- And now a low muttering sound was pice. Beyond its side all was black heard as if coming from the most and fathomless. distant parts of the mountain, slow- The slave-holder covered his faoe ly but surely it was borne along, with his hands, as if to banish the growing louder, and louder until it dreadful sight. "My God I" he ex- burst above their heads with the crash- claimed, "we are on the edge of a ing sound of ten thousand congregated bottomless abyss, with a madman for volcanoes. The horses plunged madly, a. driver. In a moment all will~ be but when the thunder had passed over over. The dther driver ~has heen they were again quieted. 'And now thrown upon the road. Oh, God I came a fearful calm. The winds were save us aslee~, and a silence like death reign- Still the elements continued to rage ed around. This quiet was portentous. with terrific fur.y-~-.still. the rnani~, It was the mighty tempest resting a continued to shout-still the hor- while in order to conce~trateit~ de- ses~ plunged-no, they flew ~adjy atroying energies. onward. It was~ terrible ridea~tha& And it came at last-that awful Only an inch of rock between the tornado, passengers, and death. My God $ it At first *the dry leaves rustled was horrible. slightly-then the trees bent, and in And now the old wornin threw off an instant the-whirl-wind of the storm her cloak. Oh I what a sight met was upon them. The rattling thun- their eyes. It was the old negreBs.-~. ders pealed without intermission. Ada's mother. The blue' lightning The lightning cawe not by flashes, cast a thousand flitting shadows upoa but it was one broad, blue, glare illu- her midnight feats~res, her white eyes minating the dense blackness, 'and re- were as those of 'the dead, md her vealing every object with the bright- grinning teeth were revealed to view. ness of noon-day. Huge oaks crashed And they hoard her shrill voice chill- above, around, and beneath them, and ing even to the marrow of their coflossal fragments of detached rocks bones-" Doe's you know me. Ha I were heard falling, and tumbling~ ha I Doe's you know ole Bellar ~ from crag to crag, down the yawning has ole Bellar, de "Wich of de Jiall'. preoipices. A thousand gullies be- ganies" as de genimens call ~ came filled With flowing, gurgling wen you tout dat ys~u sole me,~Way 5 65 page: 66-67[View Page 66-67]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 66-67 68 THE DOWNS down in 'de Ole Birgiuny. I'se was clear gawne. .~Ohwal oh wa! Does you's know who de driver is now Itbe your darter Hennie I" He roused from his terror, and cri- ed out. '~'Is it my lost maniac, lien- nie V Merciful God how thou hast afflicted me I" As the last words escaped his lips, the' top of the stage came in contact with a rock; but'a large bole was tha only damage. The horses con- ~continued to fly down the hill-faster and faster, until one coiitinuous chit.. 'ter of hoofs, and a whirring of wheels was all that could be heard. Fire ~flew from the flinty 'road, and rocks, a*~d ti~ee~ and the long gulf flitted by 'likephahtoms. Steeper and steeper :gie~ the hill-swifter and swifter dashed the maddened steeds onward, hnd more rapidly rained dpwn the blows of the maniac. "I am riding you to bell," she yelled, "my courses are winged spirits. Its a long road; but look how' we are riding. Mortals never rode. like this before. I am ta~klng you to horton, whom y~u mu~d~re~J. Do you not~,see him by n~f~ide. To night I aTm to be his bride-but in hell. Ha I ha I Hur- raid Ha! ha!" Mr. Puverne, and Ada groaned with horror; their faces were blood- they clung to each other, and hair of the planter ~had changed from ~ts primitive blackness to a snowy white. And nowthemighty tornado shriek- * ed and loanedd with madness as it united with the, unsuppressed might of~ the elements of storm. One of the horses at this instant fell, The mo- mentum of the vehicle wasso gteat that it. rolled like a ball over and over, crushing the anixnalsbeneathitsweight, aud4reaking fromthe fastenings. For a m6i~i8nt it toppled on the verge of the rRODDEN; precipice, and then over it went dis- appearing in the gloom, while horrid shrieks resounded above the wailing storm.' Then it was still, for there was a momentary lull. Then again the tempest God continued his wild career through the live long night. Morning.at length broke. l3utit was not that bright, glorious morning which novelists always talk about af- ter a storm. No I on the contrary, it wa~a sullen, wrathful morn. The sky was one broad illimitable sheet of fire, the smothered winds moaned fearfully, and the voice of many waters were commingled with the ~creams of strange birds. When Mr. Duverne recovered his senses, he gazed around him, and as the recollection of his night ride crossed his mind, he 'shuddered..- Full one hundred feet high was the precipice, and' it extended for miles along the mountain. At a short dis- tance was the body of the coach, now a mass of shivered fragments. One of the horses was caught in the fork of a tr~e that. projected from a cre- vice in ~li~i'~ck full fifty feet' in the to and strug~libgs searched his companions; sudden- ly he uttered an exclamation of hor- ror, for directly before hix~i, lay his disguised daughter, the mad driver. At first ~he thought that she was asleep; her, rest was so calm so gentle. Her head rested upon her arm, a few glossy curls swept across her up- turned face, her eyes were closed, and a sweet, soft smile enwreathed her mouth. Could, this be death I (I vow, as I see that picture now, that de~kth seems beautiful. In its Lethe, we forget our many sorrows, for we have fled from the stormy scenes of this 'troubled world, and we rest peace~ fully and sweetly.) 67 And timbre amid those gray rocks, holding a "baby" about three 'years with his gray hairs streaming in the old. In spite, of her coaxings and wind, his dark eyes fired upon the scoldings, and chair-rockings, the lit- lifeless corse, and large tears-freezing tie fellow continued to bawl most lusti- tears standing upon his cheeks, stood ly. At length her patience could en- the-FATHER. . dure the trial, no longer, and she He looked in vain for Ada, and the threw him from, her arms upon the old negress-.they had disappeared. floor. Immediately the hero became Then he returned to his child. He calm, and his niild, black eyes shone could not leaye her there to rot. He through the encrusted dirt upon his could not leave her on the rough Al- features like stars. leghanies to become the food of worms While the child was lying upon -to have the claw of the carnivorous the ground floor, the sl~sve-holder call- bird fasten in her damask ~hcek, and ed to the hag, "Woman, where am the driving rains to damper her mar- IV" ble brow. He would bury her at her "Ye're in the house of Jerey'mi' Kentucky home. , So he took the Spunk, please yere honor, and I'm. dead body in his arms, and struggled Mrs. Arnamiti' Spunk, please you up those steep heights. All day long hone; sir'!" he dragged his bruised and weary "How long have I been in this limbs up one after the other, till night place. How long? Why, it was came on with sombre gloom, then he last ifight-let's see, the ride. I've rested all alone with the dead. H~w been here a night and day, have I not that long night passed away the plan- woman I" - ter could never tell. When we are "0, Ia! a massy sa1~es! Your surrounded with' great dangers, we honor has, rested on that bed in our forget lesser 4angers from, which at log house for eight months, please othertimes we would shrink with hor- your'honor I', rot. The hours passed heavily ~nd . "Oan~ it be true V Where is lieu- slowly on into morning's waning nie, Ada and thenegress?"' shades. ' ' "Pleaseyour honor, Jerey'mi' found the most best's looking' boy I ever seed eyes on. Poor tlxing~ 'he was ~dead," and here the, rough, but ten- der-hearted creature wiped' a tear from the corner of her eye with a CHAPTER XXVII. soiled apron. "Poor child, Jerey'mi' buried him in the apple orchard I" A THRILLING RECITAL. The planter fell back upon the pil- low. "Gone! gone! gone! - Lost Ma. Duvnauu recovered from his to me forever. Merciful God, wilt stupor, but his brain was crazed.'- thou not stay thy chastening hand I When reason again dawned upon Indeed, my punishment is greater than him, he saw that he was in a small I can bear I" cabin. A bright firewas bur~ming in The -woodsman soon entered: he the rude fire place, and the furniture was a large,. stalwart man, and his was of ancient and rough fashion. An swarthy fei'fiires beamed with benev- old woman was seated in the corner olence. "Ha! ,So you are up,,my 4 BLACK BLOOD AND WHITE. r page: 68-69[View Page 68-69]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 68-69 68 ~7HFl DOWN-ThOl)DEN; OR, old boy. I tell you, for eight months the side of Zorah. And now we took you've made a devil of a caterwalling notice that a dreamy sadness had set- in here. i'm glad to see ydu up.- tled upon her you~g face-that her 'Now, if you tell me where you live, joyous carols were hushed,. and her when you are well, perhaps we can step fell sad and slow. Whenever the set yoit on the right tr~tck." stranger was by, pouring into her ear "L-~---n, Kentucky I" replied Mr. the poetry of hi8 language-she was Duverne. hapPy, when he retired,~.she watched "L-.--n, Kentucky," repeatedd the his form until it was no longer in hunter, musinglyy; then turning to the view, and then she covered her face invalid, while his tongue hung from with her hands. We were unsuspect- *his mouth for very ire,, he exclaimed. ing-Arnamita and I. Fool, that I "'11~oes'nt a young man live there, was! I might have known that high ~named Verni Durerne I" born as h~ appeared to be, that he "Yes I" was incapable of trnly loving a poor, "Then, by G-41" cried he penniless backwoods girl. There is a * fiercely, knocking his brawny fist up- little pond back of the house~about a 4n the table, "I'll go with you. For mile from 'the roadside. Well, one I. have sworn to have his heart's day in their wanderings together, he' blood I" fell into the deep waters. He could not "Why, what has he done?" said swim, and he sank once-twice. As. the planter, shaking as if with'an he was about sinking 'for the last ague fit. . .. time, Zorah plunged in, and at the "Done I 'He has ddne enough.. I imminent peril of losing her own life, will tell yoi~," here his voice fell to a she rescued him from a watery grave. low tone. "I had a daughter' ~ few This is what makes his ingratitude the months ago with me. ~She waabeau- more damning, more hellish in its out- tifi~l, finely formedd, and named Zotah, lines. ''Aft~r b~ving watched over Her voice was sweet, and her joyous him, s6'devitedly in his sickness--af- '~oug~was.iie~ard from ~moru' to night ter' having saved his life, and given in this cabin. And when the~ day him the rich offerings of her trusting was dark, Zorah's presence was as a heart-he betrayed her. Would to gleam of sunshine. Here, oi~ these God that he had murdered her out- JAlleg~ianie; she grew a lovely and right the moment he was' delivered rriigile flower, knew not the 'do- from his impending death. I would i~eits of the. world, for she had never have forgiven him then-even black mingled 'in its scenes. Her heart was as the deed would. have been; but to like ot~re, Sir! generous and brave.- make her-to make us suffer a thou- Well,'dne day 'the stage coach stop- sand deaths, this I cannot forgive." ped and'~ommitted to our care a young (Here the hot tears coursed down the) ~au i~y t1~e name of Verni Du~verne. hunter's cheeks, thick and fast, He He, had'fallen from the top of the car- continued with emotion.) "Well, ~iage upon~the ground,'and was taken one' day they took their customary up insensible, and conveyed te' our ramble, arm in arm for the last time, i~abin. 'We attended him,' and Zorah as young Duverne said that he was ~at~hed'over him constantly. In .ji going to leave on the morrow. Well, A'ew days he recovered, but he still he did leave; and about nightfall Iiiig~red with us. ile 'was always by Zorah returned to the house. But I ",x x~ BLACK BLOOD 4NP W~ITE. the change. The light-hearted, glo- I Ijeaven that I would never rest i~ntil rious girl was transformed into thel I had slain her betrayer. Now, sir, vulgar rollicking hoyden. Instead of you have my etory, and in~a few days her bird-like song, now came forth I will be prepared to start off with blasphemies and curses. The truth- you I" the awful truth flashed upon my mind. It was a thrilling recital-this. I questioned her. My God! I found And as a sense of his son's deep de- out that my suspicions were true.- gravity unfolded itself before him, a Would to heaven that I had died o'er sensation of pain shot through his I heard the awful story from hi~r lips, temples, and he fell torpescent upon I reasoned with her, and gradually she his bed. became subdued. A deep, settled me- lancholly preyed like a canker-worm upon her so~il. She faded day by - day. The round hectic spot upon her cheek increased-her eyes were un- usually brilliant, and the frosts of de- cay had mellowed upon her brow.- CHAPTER XXIX. One night, the moon-beams flickered upon her face. We were by her. A~ EXOITING INCIDENT. She took me by the hand, and her gentle notes fell thin and low. Two weeks passed on, and Mr. Dii. "Father, mother, dry your tears. I verne still remained in Jeremiah have transgressed, but it was his fault, and his wife Arnamiti Spunk's cabin. for I knew not how deeply I sinned. He had taken great interest in Zorah'.s The hand of the destroyer is now up- child, and'it in return seemed to cling on me. Forgive me Father. Moth- to him as if by instinct. It was a er, take my child-watch ever it ten- beautiful child. It had the soft curly deny-cherish for my sake. Oh, hair, dark lustrous eyes of his, son forgive your erring, guilty daughter. Verni, and he almost wished that he I was so young-so unlearned, and could wipe off the'stain of haL son's my love for him was so wild that I wickedness by adopting, it a~ his owe, could have died, had he wished it.- "Strange;" said Spunk, on the daT You have ever been kind to me, and they were about petting out, "I'v~ for- noW I bless you. For-'give-Yer---.. got all this while to ask your name 1" the-chi-have.-mer--" Here there "My name is Harold Smith l" said was a rattle in her throat, her limbs the planter, assuming another charac- became rigid, she was-dead. My tsr. wife wept till she could weep no more; The hour at length arrived, and but to me, the moon as I gased ..upon after taking an affectionate leave of it, seemed to grin in mockery-there Mr. Spunk, they left for the high-way. *was a crashing in the air-a ringing The coach coming along soon after in my ears, and I wept no outward they took passage for Blountville.. tears, for my tears were drops of They reached Blountville late in blood dropping one by one from my the afternoon, and here a change of bleeding soul. I buried her-my horses took place. Where is Pum' I broken-hearted child, and above her enquired the driver of the ostler. grave, I recorded a solemn vow in "He be's down the mountains with page: 70-71[View Page 70-71]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 70-71 I' 170 THE DOWN-TRODDEN; OR, * the rest of the peoples, 'kase thcy'r came out here, and see do ole slave going to burn the "Witch." how she die, come"- "The Witch," cried the driver. "Silen.~e 1" thundered Spunk from "The Witch" echoed the passen- among the throng. You infamous gers. And immediately the stage, lying "fiend woman." Duverne has horses, and journey were forgotten, been gone months ago 1" and they all ran to the spot, about a "No! no! dare he stan'. Do nig- mile from the village. ga feel hini breaf-it smell of blood. 'Here were assembled fifty persons; He's gwine, he is to de-" m~eu, women and children, the entire At this minute the fire was light- population of the five hous~s called the 'ed, and the flames wound fiercely * "village of Blountville." around her body. She continued to Mr. Duverne immediately recogni- sing, and yell until she gradually zed his slave Bella', otherwise "i~he sank down into the fire., All at once Black Witch of the Alleghanies," the her voice became hushed--then she one who had been his companion on roused again, and with a loud groan the night that he had taken his fear- bowed her head upon her breast- "ful ride. He shrank behind the 'she was dead. That' strange spirit crowd. I whioh had such a mysterious existence And it was a sight, that-the witch when even the body was nerveless, ~,bound to the stake-the faggots rca- and worn out, was now at rest. dy to be lighted-the excited crowd A feeling of relief, an indescribable .-~-the solemn silence-the blue skies ~joy animated Mr. Duverne as he saw arching overhead, and the lonely the Vast, dying struggles of the miser- spot. able being before him. When the The silence was broken by a tall, '~ flames were extinguished, and the lank mountaineer, "Bell, the time is 'crisped, blackened corse lay upon the up. To day you die I" [white "Die I Ha! ha !" laughed the tion ashe~ an involuntary ejacula- escaped his lips. shrill voice of' the negroes, while her The crowd slowly 'dispersed, and sightless, white eyes turned up fear- the travellers returned to the coach, fully. "Die it be's. Dc old nigga and resumed their seats and journey. hab t~ die at lass. You cant luff her -"Mr. Smith I" said the hunter con- alone den. Kin ye speer her dis fidentialy, "that was a hard sight. time I" '~ ' Old Bellar as she called herself; and "No !" answered the speaker.- "The Black Witch of ~he Aleghanies" "Now you must die. ~ou have as she was called by others came to lecn the cause of sending many to my house two years ago. She told a an untimely grave. In one minute long story how she had formerly be- by the watch the brush wood will be 'longed to a Mr. Duverne! lighted." And the man drew out an "The father of Verni I suppose I', 'old fashioned "bulls eyo," and gazed "I think 50 1', 'steadfastly upon the dial. 1 "Oh, the depravity of father and "Well if I eber seed such work.' son," murmured the hypocrite. I'se tell von I had a darter once. Dis "Ycs~would that I had never been ere ole nigga's crazy; but for aw that' born," said Spunk between his clench- she's knows dat dere' is a man in dis crc ed teeth, "then that' name never crowd as is a mt~rd'i~. Massa Duverne would have roused me to madness. / BLACK BLOOT Well, as I said, she was sold to a planter in Old Virginny. Shn man- aged to escape after remaining in his service awhile. Since that time she has wandered amid the fastnesses of the Alleghanies, and her horrible ap- pearance, together with the truthful- ncs~ of her prcdi~tions soon obtained for her the cognomen of" The Witch of the Alleghanies2' Well as I re- peat it ;' two years ago at night she staid 'with us. She wa~ journeying to Philadelphia to prevent a marriage be- tween her daughter (whom Duverne had adopted as his own,) and a wealthy Southerner. She left us, and since that I have not seen anything of her till to-day. For three days they rode along in the coach. At the end of that time their course was obstructed, for sever- s.1 bridges had been torn away by late freshets, consequently they were obliged to perform a journey of nine- ty-six miles on foot, before they could reach the next stage connection. It was a perilous undertaking, this. At Qne time swimming deep and rap- id rivers, then traversing extensive swamps and pathless forests, then wandering over high hills and' level plains, the route seemed long and toilsome. And what must have been the feelings of the slave-holder when he thought that he ~as in the power of' a savage foe, to whom the least disclosure concerning himself might be attended with fatal consequences. The planter at once in the recesses of his dark mind, resolved upon tak- ing the, life of his companion at the first opportunity which might offer. But Spunk was an old hunter-wary, and ever on the alert, therefore the designs of the slave-holder were frus- trated. About noon-time, on the 12th day of their journey, they came in sight I A N AND WHITE. ~71 of Weeping, with its spires, domes, and painted roofs glittering in the burnished rays of the sun. Here they obtained passage in the mail steamer connection from Wheel- ing to Pittsburgh. CHAPTER XXX. LIGHT AND SHADE. THIRA FAIRCHILD proceeded to Fraukfort; but her petitions were now disregarded, for this second trespass of her father had debared him from ex- ecutive clemency. She returned to her home. It was now noticed by all, that a change had come over the minister's cottage. The-smoke no longer curled from the stone chimney, the shutters were closed and solitude reigned unclisturb- ed. The hovers #ere neglected, and weeds choked up the delicate plants. Thira was very rarely seen, or if seen, it was but for an instant for she im- mediately retired. The time of her meeting~ Pur- ceval Maturiz~ had now arrived. '1~ut it was now winter-eold, blustering winter. Snows were upon the earth and tempests came forth from their hidden lairs. Night came on apace, and the little cot shook to~ its very foundation, as the winds shrieked past. A thousand times had Thira resolved to fulfil her promise, and as 'many times Aid she hesitate~ At last "Friendship, Lover a~d Truth," triumphed over every other consideration, and hastily put.. ting on her shawl and bonnet she sal- lied out. The pierceing blast cut like needles page: 72-73[View Page 72-73]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 72-73 1 against her flesh, and the cold drift- ing slows were wafted full into her face. Onward she went, heedless of the storm without, f~r a ~atorm was raging within her, soul-4he conflict between love, aud duty. She reached the old gray tree. Nothing was to be seen. The dry branches groaned, and it seemed as if fiends were mocking her from the tree-tops. Was Maturin false.-.or had she come too late? it *as now midnight. The fury of the elements had abated, and no sound broke the solemn stillness save the continual fall-fall-falling of snow flakes. Suddenly a faint groan was borne upon her ~ar. Her heart panted like a hammer: she peered with distend-" ed eyes through the gloom. All was still I She saw nothing. Again she stood motionless as a statue listening forth repetitionof that sound. The light flakes fell upon her brow an4 dissolved,~Heurs passed on, and though she'was perishing with the cold, an enchainment bound her to the spot. The thought that Maturin might be dying a~nid the snows aroused her. His piety, his devotion, his love for hererossed her mind. Then the feel- ingn of her soul which had been pent up for years, burst forth, and in a mo- ment she knew ho~ madly she loved. She cried, and her voice resounded far over the dreary waste, 'Turce- vaL" r Ah, that word brought a response. A low, smothered moan followed.- Thira flew to the place from which the sound proceeded, and there iay, half buried in the snowy a dark object. "Purceval l~' she shrieked. No answer met her ear. She felt his face..-~it was like ice. His' pulse beat not, and his limbs were frozen stiff. "Oh, God I" she cried, as she stag- gered backwards, "I have killed him. But I will not leave him, I will perish byliis side! No, he may. still live. I will save him." So saying, ~he raised him from his freezing bed, and being sustained by hope, bore him, after great exertion; to the cottage. She laid him upon a bed before the blazing fire, bathing his forehead. with camphor, and chafing his limbs.- Her efforts were successful, and to- wards morning the sufferer 'opened his eyes. He gazed around him ab- stractedly., "Oh, this horrible dream. Am I in the land of spirits I" With a cry of joy Thira rushed to his side, and was ~nclasped in his arms. In a few days the young minister was able to walk about. When he had sufficiently recovered, she ques- tioned him. "Yes, Thira," he answered, "I had wandered miles that day amid the whirling snows, and night fall found me beneath the trysting tree. You came not. I thought that you would appear in time, and hope still linger~ ed within my breast. But when the long hours had merged into midnight, then indeed did I despair. Chilled, and benumbed, I sank upon the ground. A feeling of drowsiness came over me, and I dreamed. Scenes, brigl4 and beautiful, rose before me, and then I saw you, TEira, holy and lovely, as when you first burst upon my sight. And then came thoughts of my Hoosier hcine, a father and mother awaiting my return. Then there came a blank, a dull monotony; I felt myself to be dying; yet it was easy dying, so calm, so painless. I, felt happy. Then the thought of THE DGWN-TROI}DEN; OR, BLACK BLOOD AND WI~ITE. your seeming unfaithfulness, caused me to groan. Shortly aftet, I beard your voice; but it was too late, dark- ness was around me, and I knew no more. Now, Thira, you have my story, and certainly now, you will not refuse me y~ur hand. She answered, "Purceral. I had resolved never to wed. B~ut ziow~ my father is incarcerated in the ~looiny dungeons of Kentucky. He is dead to me now, for I know that he will not long a~irvive..--death will soon re- lieve him of his 8ufferings. I have loved you, Purceval-loved you long, and now I am yours-.-yours forever." W~will~a8s over the rest. 5i4- fice it is to say that the lovers were united. Happiness attended their steps-.-religion diffused a benign renity-.--love entwined their heart~, and the only alloy to their felicity was the doom of Thira's father. For aught, we know they still live in the little einbowered cottage. The flowers still bloom as sweet-.--pweeter perhaps than before-and the warm, yellow sun shines down as in days of yore upon Indiana-.beautifuj Hoosir Indiana. CHAPTER XXXI. JnRRY.-NSL53.~THE ESCAPES ASOUT this time, my brother Jerry escaped from his master, and arrived safely at the land of freedom.-Can- ada. But in his new situation he was not contented, and he left, Toronto for Sy- racuse. Here he remained for some time; but b1~ed-hounds were on the scent, and he was one morningg sud- denly arrested by the slave-holder, and his friends-the police He was conveyed to the court-room, but in the meantime the crowd had become so immense that the'court found it necessary to retire to other quarters; and now came the "tug of war." One vast, mighty shout came up from that surging multitude-' "Save him .Save him." In vain did the officers of the law resist; Marshall Fitch, of Rochester, had his ,a~i broken ii~ the melee.-. The fugitive was forcibly torn away, and conveyed t~ a place of saTety.- He was rescued. The intelligence of my brother's escape animated me anew, and in the depths of my heart, I resolved to em- brace the first opportunity and fl~r also. But how was this to be acconi- pUshed. Mile; hundreds ot' miles in- tervened. The pathless forest-.the spreading Savanna-the broad" irie were between; and then with the en- cumbrance of my wife and child I It was 'a. difficult task; "but 'it mum be done-death were preferable to slavery. I communicated my thoughts and intentions to Fidele. She acquiesced to the proposals. So one dark, starless ni~ht, whew the cold winds sung a requiem tothe. departed day~ we set out upon'91~r jourikey. We t*ayellsd northward, 'and: when the morning broke we found that we had proceeded about twenty miles. We 'concealed ourselves~ the day time, and travelled in the" nIght; subsisting on~ the provisions '~with which we were provided by' kind friefida. At one of the 'interior town*'-w~ took the stage for Sandusky; Lrere'we arrived safe and sound, a steam-pack-. et conveyed us to Buffalo, where' w~ again too1~ the stage coach for a cen- tral village of the Empire State. 0 ~WA~Y~ a page: 74-75[View Page 74-75]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 74-75 '74' THE DOWN-TRODDEN; OR, We were free-free, in the land ol freedom. I fell upon the ground in rayer, and thankfulness to the great L~ aster above~ for preserving us through so many dangers. Fidele wept tears of joy, and our hearts overflowed with happiness. CHAPTER XXXIL * CONCLUSION. Wu left Spunk and Mr. Duverne on the steamer. It was now near the hour of mid- night, and' the two, after conversing - confidentially, Went below to view the huge glowing furnaces. This oc~u- pied them for some time. Presently the hunter went to the rear of the boat; the planter follQw- ed-a thought flashed across his mind. It was but the work of an in- ~tant to push the backwoodsman through the open space of railing. It w~s done. The man clutched on the guards of the boat, his face was turned npwa~'d, and on it was depicted baffled venge2 ance intense hate, despair, and horror; "Do you know who I am I" said the planter in a deep, low voice, "I am Ichabold Duverne, the father. of Ver- ni." The huge form of the poor wretch quivered from head to foot, he raised himself partially up, but his hands were pushed off, and he disappeared from the light of. the furnaces, into the darkness below. At a short distance he arose, the reflection on the water revealed his blanched features upborne by the waves, and then he sank forever. Mr. Duverne returned to the saloon' Here he found a party engaged in gambling. He joined them. Opposite to him, sat a young man whose features were nearly concealed by a broad rimmed, slouching hat. Stake after stake was swept away by him in spite of all the contrivances of his opponents. At midnight the game. ended, and the company 'arose from the table, having lost in all an enor- mous amount. The stranger pocketed his ill-gotten gains, and walked out upon the deck. It was starlight, and the. monoto- nous dipping of the wheels broke up- on the ear; on either side lay the dark forest banks of the Ohio. He looked upward at the half ob- scured moon, and listened to the moan- ing winds. He felt a hand laid upon his shoulder-a glittering stiletto flashed before his eyes.. He turniA. The dark, ferocious face of Duverne was turned upon him, embodying the hidden fires of despairing murder, and anger. "Give me the ten thousand dollars that you have won of me, or by Heaven, .this instant you die, as one has died by my means this night, alrea- 'dy." said the planter, and his words fell low, but fearfully. The stranger flung his hat far away -shook back his long, matted locks, and laughed so ,wildly, so horribly, that its ringing peals smote upon the heart of the assailant with a strange, unknown, freezing power. "Die! Ha! ha! ha! And is that not ~hat I have been trying to do for . these* two years. Ha! ha I Die. Strike-strike here?' And he bared his bosom for the blow. The slave-holders arm fell nerveless by his side. "Ha! ha !" again broke' out that, loud, unseeming lAugh. "Do 'you know who I am? I am V'erni .Du- t'erne,~jour own son. The son of a blood-stained murderer, the destroyer of his fellow. And you say that you have murdered another this, very night. Who was it ?" "Spunk! Zorah I You I" gasped the father, and he trembled as with an ague fit. "I know it. Ha!' ha! Zorah! Oh, I see, thee now. Forgive !" and Ver- ni, the hardened bad man wept. His voice sank to a lower tone. "Father, take my low deep curse. It was you, that ruined jie. Yes! Once I was free from guilt, but what am I now? Answer me I I discovered your crimes -I found out whlit an unnatural parenL God had given. And in an instant the fountains of charity were frozen up forever in my soul, and my course has been a dark one ever since. I became old in 'vice in the flush of youth. Wherever there was a chance~I blast- ed the family hearthstone forever.- Wherever there was purity, I left the dark mildew of sin. If I found love,~ happiness, and confidence, I left in its place, madness, despair, and reckless- ness. And around this depraved, this loathsome mass of iniquity, I threw the net work of religion, purity, and generosity. I breathed into ~the ear of the good man, sentiments of ?hi~ lanthropy, into that of his wife, ove and infidehty-~his meek-eyed daugh- ter listened to my honeyed words, and -fell-forever. And I laughed at the misery I inflicted. The spirit of the fiend was upon me. I cursed ev- ery thing below and abovsi. I stood amid the blackness of desolation, and bade the gray haired father's curse me, for it was sweet~nsic to my soul. I have long been a professed gam- bler, and luck has ever been on my side. But what is life to me, I have sought death in a thousand different forms, hut found it not You, my own father, swore that you would take my life a few moments ago. Now, I am ready. Gray headed fiend, take it, you' will meet with no resistance." There they both stood in the dark~ some night, the father and son, glar- ing upon each other with deadly. hate. At length the father broke the si- lence, he echoed tremulously-" Ver- nil" The bosom of the gambler swelled with the pent up emotions of his soul. "Take thy gold." And he tore open his vest, and showered the metal around. It fell upon' the deck with a ringing sound. Then with a yell of madness, he started back a few paces, then sprang from the high deck into the air. A dull', heavy splash broke upon the ear, and Verni Duverne had met a watery grave. Then there wis the picture of the grey-headed father, straining his eyes through the night gloom as if to see his child again appear. The passengers hearing the noise, rushed out from the cabin, just in time to prevent the planter from following his son. He returned home. But he never spoke again. His pro erty was scat- tered to the winds, an4 to this day, he wanders noiseless, and friendless on earth-a sad realization of that awful saying, "Ven~eanc~ is mine, I will repay." The Tinkeys still continue in the enjoyment of health, and the posses- sion of the "darling babiess" Reader, our tale is ended. You have seen that it is a connection of separate facts and circumstances, in- termingled with a thread of a contin- uous story. BLACK BLOOD AND WHITE. 75 page: 76-77[View Page 76-77]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 76-77 I TRill POWN.TRODPEN; OR, Dark is the outline of serfdom.- Would to Heaven it were otherwise. -~--.---.--A short time ago it was an- nounced i~- the New York papers that, one J. Wt~Fabeas, U. S. Consul, from Cayenne, would deliver a lecture in the Tabernacle, in favor of Slavery; but -at the solicitation of a society who, were averse to having any. excite- menton the subject, he cojisented to speak on the evitr Qf Freedom EVILS OF FREEDOM! Ha.! Hat Our forefathers thought freedom~ an eriZ-in great, a glorious evil. - Oh! But freedom lies many evils forth negro! flo is not ab~o to take careof himself hais not our fellow For what right has the poor slave to hreatl~ the same air-to feel God~s sun- light~.-to see the heauties of creation. They were never made for him, you say. Freedo~ti has many evils. Oppres- sion has none. I'll tell you about yourslave liberty, The liberty of be- ing cursed, of being scoured, of be- ing sold, of being worked, of being torn from all ties of earth, of being permitted to know aught of the way to heaven. This is or you with a vengeance. Away with such fippery. Down with such philosophy. Fudge! for suck freedom. But give us the freedom of equali- ty-of equal rights. Praise* the banner of ~maucipation, and then, and not till then will a new era corn- mence-then will the inillenial day dre.w nigh. FQr that movement willera- brsce tJ~e result of one thousand years preaching of the gospel of the blessed Redeeiwer, and consurnate the ~lnat era. And now in conclusion. Brethern, il'ellow Citisens, let - us without dis- t~nction unite in this great work for the benedt of our fellow-man. and the great Gonraga, a worthy knight of Malta, whose battles were always conquests, rallied the scattered troops of the duchess, and, before the warlike wooer had time either to vic- tual or to man the captured city, sat dowii before the walls, invested the p lace, would listen to no composition, but exacted the rendering up the with all withinitt&his disci~e- triumph is a'captivity,-that -his am- -bition to encroach on his neighbors territories has endangered own lib- erty and life, and put his own p oases- sions in hazard; and there ore he claims the - aid and assistance of his ally, the king of Sicily. But the peaceful Roberto is not inclined-to help -him; h~ -takes his stand upon the league proclaimed between them, which bound neither of them further than to give mutual -aid, if foreign forces invaded them; but, asthe duke was -the~ -i~ggressor, Roberto chooses rather to be warned -'by his harnis, than to steer on a rock which is seen, and may be avoided. l~[e had no ambition to be made glorious through war; he prefers being known as the father of his people; and, in his care and vigilance for their safety, - wonld neither change their ploughahares into swords, nor force them to leave theit own vine to expose their lives to 1- - I TILE MAID OF ILONOR. Ronmiwo, king of Sicily, was a weak and erring monarch, of a mild and peaceful nature, living in the qui- et luxuriousness of the Sicilian court, -.~--too often yielding to the advice of parasites and flatterers, rather than trusting to his own judgement; but still just and upright when the truth was permitted to-approach his ear. In his city of Palermo dwelt Camiola, the maid of honor; young, fair, an4 wealthy, ahe was - surrounded by suit.. Ore; some ~eeking her for vnuity, some for her wealth, some. moved by. love. Of. these, Bertoldo, the natural brother of -the king, is the bnly one whom she affects; but Bertoldo is one of the knights of M~iJta, who, by the vows of his order,~ bound to celiba- cy At the commencement of the tale, the court of Sicily is assembled to hear the ambassador of Duke Fer- dinand of Urbin, who~'oome~ to pray aid and assistance for his master in his desperate- fortunes. This duke was a ron hyooer, after the fashion of thef - of chivalry~ When his cv .~bf marriage ~ Aurelia, the du of Sienna, were rejected, he s6~t~~ to compel her, consent by surprising her castle of Sienna, and in- vading her territories. But this knightly mode of courtship was not successful: the duke found, too- late, that innocence called forth friends; page: 78-79[View Page 78-79]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 78-79 78 T11131 DOWN-ThODD~N; O1~, ruin. But these pacific counselsfio who think no honor is to be won but not at all suit the fiery and impulsive by the sword, and despise the honest Bertoldo. Without the slightest con- gains of labor. sideration as to the justice or injustice "Consider, sire," he says, ." where 'of the cause,-.-without thinking for your command lies~-not on a large a moment that the duke is the wrong- continent and extensive dominions, doer, and a nokl~e lady the suffeier,- butin an is~ind, where you have no he is for rushing' at once into war. mines of gold or silver to enrich you; lie taunt~ the king with bitter words no worm spins silk, to make a dis- ~-asking him if the beams of honor tinction between your habits and cannot thaw his icy fears-telling him those of a peasant; the luxuries of that he blushes to perceive he is not life are not found among us. What the heir to their father's brave spirit we possess, we have in common with and vigor, as well as to his kingdom. the toasts.' Nature designed us to be The king is naturally enough moved warriors, and t~ break through our to anger at this, and ratep Bertoldo ring, the sea, which environs' us. for his presumption; but Bertoldo Whatever we want, or which is pre- continues his attack, and accuses his cious to us, we must obtain by force. sycophants, that feed upon his favors, Besides, we are a populous nation, of influencing the' king to this cold- and increase so fast, that, unless we ness,-preferring his, ease to his hon- are sent abroad to form new colonies, or, an& persuading him that the end or have our numbers thiniied by the of human blessings is to eat and sleep sword, Sicily will not be able to main- supinely. And, with the feelings tam us; we musk starve, or eat up one common to the soldier-knights of the another. May you live long the king middle ages, he seems to consider of' peace, so you donot refuse us the bravery and courage~ as the' only vir- glory to be gained in 'this war. Let tue, and war the chief good on earth; not our courage be. withered up with for he endeavors to incite the king sloth, nor force ~,Ioun~qer brotker8 to be- and the courtiers to embark in this come thieves for want ~f employment. war, by telling them, "virtue, when It is by our swords that we must sow not'in action, is a vice ;" that is, that and reap our harvest. If you wish unless weare always fighting, we are for examples, look on England; when cowards; for, he says, not to go for- did she flourish so, as when she was ward is to go back; and peace he de.- the mistress of the seas,-' her navies scribes as an unhealthy state,-a dis- putting a girdle round about the ease,-the nurse of drones and world?'.' Let not our swords rust, cowards.' These sentiments meet while we ~pend our time in drink and with' a ready assent from some of the dice and cards. Louse us from this younger spirits~of the court; 'but the idleness. 'Your birth, indeed, justly in calls him a "hair-brained fool, claims our father's kingdom; but his with more* courage than reasoii." heroic soul has descended to me." 'And then Bertoldo proceeds to 'give The "younglings" of the couit take his reasons for entering upon the war; fire at these words, and clamor loudly -reasons which we may well imagine for war; and the king though sorely had influence with the knights of old, displeased 'with his brother Bertoldo, and, even in the present day, would and though he will neither engage per- not be without weight among those sonally in the quarrel, nor press his l3LAC1~ 131001) AND WHIm. '19 subjects to maintain it, yet to conviuc them that hi~ rule is gentle, and tha he has some feeling for Duke Urbin' sufferings, (he, no more than' Bertoldc remembers that these sufferings wer occasioned by his attempts to oppress the duchess of Sienna,) consents thai as adventurers and volunteers, Bertol do, and those who chose to follow him may make trial of their boasted valor But they must expect no assistance from him; and if they~ miscarry ii .~ their undertaking, he shall hear it a, he would a disaster befallen a stranger and will not esteem that man his s~ub~ je9t, who, either with his purse or ix his perso; lends them aid ; and ac frowning on them, he departs, and they prepare themselves for the war. Bertoldo, before he quits Sicily seeks an interview with Camiola to press his suit with her. We are first introduced to her accompanied by Signior Sylli, a mere vain fo~l, who seems to imagine that every woman that looks on him must dote on him. So satisfied is he of his own perfec- tions, that he has sworn never to take a wife who cannot hold out a month against him. The gentleness with which Camiola ~ndures his fantastic follies, is an earnest of the noble na- ture she displays in afl her future life. While she ispntiently listening to the warnings of her silly suitor, to be on her guard against his many perfec- tions, her waiting-woman informs her that Bertoldo, the brother of the king, craves an audience. He is a suitor of a different sort; for, although Signior Sylli feels no jealousy, confident that a woman who had once looked on him could never love another; yet we learn from Oamiola herself; that Bertoldo is a man "absolute and cir- cular in all those wished-for rairities that may take a virgin captive,"-a suitor, whose presence, courtship, and e loving language, would have endan- t gered even thechaste Penelope. And s though she owns, to herself; her love ~, for him, her reason tells her she ought e neither to yield her love, nor seek' s his. Bertoldo, entering, salutes her, , trusting that being a parting kiss will - qualify his boldness if not altogether ,, excuse it. Oamioi4' disturbe~at the idea of parting, asks. what nation, envious of the happiness which S~ily enjoys in his 'sweet presence, can draw him from her? or what climate can afford him pleasures, exceeding - those which he enjoys here, where he is beth beloved and honored,-the north-star and guide of all hearts,- and where he holds so high a position as brother of the king? Bertoldo, * keeping out of sight, the fiery heat * with which he has urged on his en- * terpr~se, tells her that it is she who has driven him into exile~-that h~r unexampled cruelty has' enforced his absence, and deprived him of those blessings which she insinuated that he possessed; and yet she accuses him of rushing into wilful exile.- What are titles to him, he says" Or popular favor, or relationship to the crown ?-or what would it be even to be Sovereign of Sicily7 'is~heu she, who is the essence of his being, the anchor of his hopes, by her disdain turns all these blessings 'into deceiv- ing shadows Camiola protests that he accuses her without cause. But Bertoldo still urges her to answer love with love, and to look on him with an eye of favor. damiola modestly c~ii- fesses her love for him, and says,, that if at that moment all the sceptred monarchs of the world were his rivals, and she worthy of such competition, he alone would carry off the prize.- But the consciousness of her own inferiorty 'prevented her indulging the love she felt. They were like page: 80-81[View Page 80-81]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 80-81 TItE DOWN- l~RObDE~~ Ofl, divided lines, that could never meet in 'one centre. His birth alone was an am~1e dowry for one of fairer for- tunes; his personal appearance above 'all value, elren if he were ignoble'; and his mind- "so furnished with hay- mopious faculties, moulded from hea- von," that though he were of no hon- orablAeseent, as deformed in person as Thersites, and as beggared in for- tune as Irus, he still would force all to admire him. But all these quali- ties bound uptogether were far above h~r deserts; she only craves leave to look upon' them with admiration, but does not venture top resume she' may 'enjoy them. Bertoldo interrupts her, to exclaim that he knows of no dis- parity between them: she is sprung from a noble family, fair, rich, young, ---every 'way his equal. ~ But Camiola is not to be flattered out of her sense of right: 'she holds that the eagle and thh wren cannot dwell in the same nest; that it is mon- strous to put tissue an freeze in the samegarment. "But," she goes on, "e~n if yonr perfection were dimin- ished, and my deserts increased, the strong bar of religion would oppose our union. You are a knight of Malta, bound by the holy vows of your order to a sin le life ; you can- not marry me; an~ J believe you to be too honorable to seel my love for baser ends." Bertoldo, however,.treats his religi- ous i~ows very lightly, and thinks a dispensation of them could be easily obtained, which would ~entirely ab- soWe him fr~m them. But Camiola'~ high and proper no- tions of honor are shocked at this.- "Oh, take heed, sir," she says; "when what is vowed to heaven is dispensed with to serve our ends on earth, a curse must follow an#d not a blessing." Bertolde, on hearing this, exclaims Is there no hope left me I" And Camiola sorrowfully respond; N~,r to myself; true love should walk upon equal feet: with usit does not. In all things, excepting this, rest' assured I shall be devoted to your service," And this being her determinate sentence, and riot to be revoked, Ber- toldo takes leave of-the "fairest cruel," resolved that all thoughts of' women shall perish in hum That as love* only lends him light to see his folly, the blaze of war shall extinguish that dim tape; and glory be his only mis- tress. ,. And Carojola feels that, after the fierce contest she has endured, where love was battling with her sense of honor, though honor had gained the victory, yet now that he was gone, her sun had set never to rise again. Bertoldo and his followers having embarked without taking leave of the king, who is thereby angered; Ful- gentie, the king's favorite, takes the opportunity further to incense the king against his brother, by making it appear not only that this was a gross neglect, but that Bertoldo, and~ those who accompanied him, had thrown off their allegiance to the monarch; that they were disaffected to his person and his government;~ had discarded their loyalty, and were dan- g~rous to the State. This determines the weak king to send messengers to the Duchess of Sienna, excusing him- self from having sent these forces against her, and withdrawing all pro- tection from them as his subjects. Astutio selected for this office, and ordered ~not to spare an oath, if neces- sary, that the ~king had never con- sented to it; being reminded that "swearing for the king, though false, is no perjury." Astutio had scarcely -, I 81 needed this injunction, for he tells us, "they are not fit ~o be state agents whose scruples of conscience will not permit them to be prodigal in such tijiles." Fulg9ntio had a double ~object in view in thus increasing the king's anger against his brother. His iiesire was to keep Bertoldo out of the way first, as he might become a dangerous rival in the king's affection; and next, because he knew Bertoldo 'was a hindrance to gaining the love of Camiola, to whose fortune he aspired. He reminds the king of his I. - promise to aid him in his project on Camiola, and receives the king's ring as a pledge that the king will make (rood whatsoever Fulgentio shall say entreats or commands. And Ful- gentio prepares to make his attack upon the lady, and command her to receive him as her husbanc~. Cainiola, shut up in retirement, is mourning the absence of Bertoldo. Among the dependents of her house- hold, is a well born gentleman of' the name of Adorni, whO though he does not wear her livery, yet acknowledges a duty to her: him Fulgentio orders on his ai'rival at Camiola's house, to command the lady's presence. Ador- ni, indignant at this haughty tone, refuses, telling him he must wait her leisure. Fulgentio, with his natural ari-ogance, and also presuming on the King's favor, draws his sword upon Adorni to compel his obedience; Adorni resists him, and the noise mtde in the scuffle calls Camiola from her retirement. She orders them to refrain, and tells Fulgentio that, although his glittering outside might lead her to expect a 'gentlenian, the rudeness of his carriage a'id demeanor speaks him a coarser thing -and she demands -what he would with her. - - - "Proud one," says Fulgentio, in 6 N BLACK BLOOD AND WrnTE. his arrogant style, "whOn you know what I am, and what I came for, you will repent the coarseness of my entertainment. You have heard of Fulgentio I" "I have, sir,"~.~amiola replies, £~ he is a suit-broker at court. He has the worst report for bribery nnd extortion 1. ever heard of; ~vido~s and orphans curse him in their prayers for a can- ker and a caterpillar in the state. I hope you are not the miin; much less employed by him as an agent to me." "This~ pretended ignorance," Ful- gentio returns, "is only to give me a taste of your wit. I like a sharp wit well. Beside; I know this harsh in- duction must give way to the well-* timed observance and respect which you will pay me when you know my ~redit with the king, and (do not be too much overjoyed') tha~~ de~gn to love you. Nay, love you honestly." "That word, 'honesty,' is seldom heard from a courtier's mouth," says Camiola; "but deal plainly with me, and tell me what are the motives which induce 'you to quit the freedom of a bachelor's life, and a eup~n you the stubborn yoke of matrimony, and why, of all the beauties in Palermo, you have deigned to select poor me." "Why, although a little thing, you're a pretty peat, indifferent fair, and the quickness of your eye assures an active spirit." "You are pleasant, sir," Camiola' replies, "yet I presume there was one thing you have not deigned to men- tion, more attractive than' all you have rem'embered,-my wealth air." ",Your wealth 1" said Fulgentro. "Your wealth; yes, without wealth beauty is a mere flower, to be worn in its bloor& -md trod on when it fades; but as you add youth to beau~ ty, and fortune to both, I will con- descend to marry you." page: 82-83[View Page 82-83]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 82-83 r. 82 TEE DOWN-TRODDEN; OR, "Then, sh~, e~ccuse me if in plain ty thus waits the leisure of the bloody words I distinctly state that on no hunter, and the other 'are loudly terms will I marry you. blaming their commander far delay- "Oh," returned Fulgentio, "you ing.the assault, the Sicilian forces ap- are coy and:disdainful, are you l Then pear at band. Ferdinand, the Duke I must resort to other means. Look of Urbin, hopes that heaven is 'on this ring," showing her the king's appeased for the wrong he had done Signet, "and tremble; by this the to ~Aurelia, the Duchess of Sienna, * king commands you to be mine; by and was about to take pity on his *his gift you are so." miseries. But Gonza a, the general You are mistaken, sir," Camiola of the Duchess, is full of wrath and replies; "my~ life and goods the king indignation against the King of Sicily, may dispose of, but my mind is my for his foul act in leaguing with the own and never shall be yours. The oppressor, and 'sending. troops against king is good and gracious, and will the Duchess without proclaiming war, not compel chaste maidens' to wed and determines at once to meet them the minions of the court against their with his cavalry, while he leaves the will. You are cozened, sir; I am foot-men to prevent a sally from the free, and will be so." town. The forces meet; and, not- Fulgentio, who had hitherto borne with~standing the valor of Bertoldo, her retorts with the coolness of one the Sicilian forces are defeated, and assured of ultimate success, finding his Bertoldo and others taken prisoners. last resource fail, breaks out into The gay gallants of Sicily, who were coarse ribaldry and leaves her, threat- so eager to embark with Bertoldo in ening to traduce her fair fame in the action, found that real war was every company. something different from rQaring in a Our story now leads us to the camp tavera, or carrying away a maypole before the walls of Sienna. The fi'om a neighboring village. Their forces of the Duchess of Sienna lay burnished arms and gaudy colors were ancainped before the town to recover more for show than use; and Gonzaga it from the Duke of'Urbin, who had taunts them unmercifully, as gaudy invaded her territories. The breach butterflies, loose carpet-knights, the is assailable,-the cannoneer has so burden of whose defensive armor was well performed his work that the so ~great as to weigh down their ~assailants may enter six abreast; not effeminate limbs, and force them on a a man dares show himself on the hot day to yield without a blow. wall; the soldiers are most anxious But he turns from these holiday sol- for the assault, and to have the city dfers to sho~v ~Very remark of respect delivered up to them for plunder. to Bertoldo for the valor he had (us- Within the walls the Duke of Urbin played, when he bravely encountered and his followers are almost bereft of and wounded him, but who now hope, they are famished with hunger, stands overwhelmed with shame and not a day's provision left in the whole despair. city, and await the attack of Gonzaga "Look up, ~ Gouzaga zaysto with faint hearts and weakened bodies; him; "it is no shame to be overcome, their only chance of safety being in If you could accuse yourself of wan' the success of the aid from $icily, of courage, it were to be lamented; under Bertoldo. While the one par- but you perfornied as much as could BLACK BLOOD AND WHITE. 83 be done by man when fortune is "No," h~ says; "you were sworn opposed to him. I feel honored in as a knight tQ guard weak ladies from my victory over you (but to have oppression, and never draw your these carpet-knights for my prisoners sword against them; hut when the is rather a defeat than a triumph, princess Aurelia was attacked and You shall find fair quarter, and your dispossessed of her inheritance, you, wounds be medicine with as much misled by the hope of plunder or care as if your nearest friend attended false glory, have broken your oath you." and labor~ to upheld her falling * Bertoldo, however, has other sources enemy. You are unworthy to wear of shame beside~ his defeat, and feels this cross,-youi broken vows cancel that when he is known, this show of all friendship's bond between us." favor will be recalled; with this feel- And Bertoldo is borne off to prison ing, he despondingly asks Goazaga if to bear the heavy forfeiture of his he cannot recall him to his memory. tarnished honor; learning, too late, Goazaga, with astonishment, recog- that valor employed in an unjust nizes him as the brave Bertoldo, a cause partakes more of vice than of brother of their order. virtue, lie finds himself degraded "By Saint John l" he exclaims, from his knighthood, a "wretch for- "the holy patron of our order, I am saken ;"-the king will rather thank more amazed at thy apostacy, thy his captors for detaining him in pris- breaking the most solemn vows made on than pay one crown to ransom when this glorious cross was conferred him~ he has besides seized en all upon thee by the grand master of our Bertoldo's possessions, so that he has1 order, than if I had seen the most nothing left by which he can raise abandoned reprobate baptized in our the large sum of fifty thousand crowns, religion. Fellow-soldiers, look on demanded for his freedom; his friends this man, and, by his example, learn fall off from him, and refuse to assist how dangerous it is to trifle with him; even one whose life be had sacred things. In niy rage,1 shed saved deserts him in his need. Hope- these tears at the funer~il of his faith, lessly he lies in prison, to live and his virtue,, and religion. His youth die the slave of Gonsaga. was trained to noble uses, and did We left Camiola incensed at the promise such certainty of great presumption and ribaldry of Fulgen- achievements, that, if the fortunes of tio, wishing for the presence of Ber- the Christian world had depended on taldo to avenge her wrongs. Adorni, one encounter with the Ottoman race, who at reverent distance loves Cami- this Bertoldo, for his knowledge to ola, takes upon himself the office of direct and his courage to execute,- her avenger. He challenges Fulgen- as being the first soldier, and most tio, for having traduced'the fair fame deserving of those who wore t!ie of his mistress; but' he, a~ cowardly cross,-would have been chosen gen- as he is arrogant, refftses to fight, and eral by common consent. But this threatens Adorni to put in force cross, which he has now disgraced, I against-him the edict passed against thus tear from him." all duelling. Fulgentlo will not use Berto~do, horror-stricken, implores his sword, but~ with his tongue he to be allowed to die with it on his promises to rid himself of this oppo- breast; but Gouzaga sternly refuses. Dent. But Adorni will not be stopped 9 U page: 84-85[View Page 84-85]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 84-85 S 04 THE DOWN-TRODDEN; OR, by' threats. He dare not attempt him malicious slander? Oh, how those in the court,~-~-ja public he is so sur- ladies are deceived and cheated, the rounded by parasites and suitors, there crearness and integrity of whose ac- is no getting near him,-he therefore tions do not defend themselves, and resolves to watch for him near a stand secure on their own virturel grove, where Fulgeatio goes every those who, under a seeming service, morning to extort from his petitioners stand forth to give protection to that fruitful harvest which his infiu- them, often betray the cause they ence over the king induces them to seek to serve. Malice, when scorned, pay him, to enlist his service in their dies of itself; but to defend one's self favor. It i~ Camiola's birthday, when against its attacks gives a kind of those who love or serve her bring credit to a false accusation. You her .the customary presents; and believed you did me right; but you Adorni hopes to wring something have wronged me more in defending from Falgentio that shall be worthy my undoubted honor, than false Ful- the .acceptance of Camiola. Her gentle could with all his malice." servants are presenting to her the Adorni is grieved that what was so birthday gifts; from one a fan, from well intended was so ill received; another a diamond, from a third a but he reminds her that she wished piece of plate, when Adorni arrives, Bertoldo had been present to avenge slightly wo~inded, to present his gift. her. "It is not," he tells her, antique ~ "True," she says,' "I did. But he p late, noi~ pearl, nor diamonds; yet," and you are not equals. If he had he entreats her, "not to despise his punished Fulgentio's insolence, it offering, nor to suffer the lowness of would have shown his love ~to her the giver to lesser the value of what whom he vouchsafed to make his lie presents, since it is a precious jewel wife; a hope, I trust, that 'you do .1 dimmed with clouds of infamy, but not aspire to. The same actions are redeemed, and in its natural splendor not alike suitable to all men. But I restored to its true owner. I bring perceive you do repent; leave me you, madam," he 'goes on, "your now, and in 'time I may forgive, 'per- wvunded reputation cured. That haps' forget, your folly. Conceal proud man, Fulgentio, when he was yourself untjl this storm be over; you refused the honor of your hand, with will be sought for; yet, if loan hin- his ribald tongue did spread untrue der it, you shall not suifei~ in my ser- reports, defiling your 'fair name. *J vice." have compelled him to give himself And she gives him her hand as he the lie, and write in his own blood, retires. She almost thinks she was the recantation of his infamy; which too harsh in her reproof to one of so here I present to you." noble a temper. But sadder thoughts 'But Camiola, instead of receiving are now forced upon her; for she is his offering wit1~ favor, looks frown- informed that Gasparo and Antonio, ingly upon him. "Which ~of my the sworn friends of Bertoldo, are bounties," she asks, "hath nourished returned from the war without him- this more than rude presumption? that he is left pining in a 'dungeon- Could you suppose my innocence that the king not only refused to pay could ever fall so low as to require the ransom of fif4r thousand crowns y6u.r rash sword to guard it against that is demanded for him, but forbids 9 BLACK BLOOD AND WHITE. all other persons to do so. This news makes her mutter treason in her heart, and exclaim against those impious times, when not only the subordinates of justice are corrupted, but kings themselves forsake their honor. A world of thoughts press - on her, how, consistently with her honor, she cail redeem Bertoldo from his misery. She seeks for a friend to assist her, and fixes upon Adorni; for * they who at a reverent distance love, are ever faithful. She sends her waiting woman for Adorni; and when she has brought him, she bids her leave' the room, for wise men might think that in a secret of such weight even one woman were too much. And then she proceeds to unfQld her plans to Adorni. She adjures him, by the love he owes her -love born of duty, no farther,- that he will undertake a service for her, in which his faith, his judgment, his discretion, all that is good in him, must be engaged; nor must he study anything in the execution but the ends~ she aims at. And having received his promise, she proceeds with vehemence to explain her will. "You have heard of Bertoldo's captivity, and the king's neglect; the greatness of his ransom-fifty thou- sand crowns-two parts of my estate. Yet I so love him, to you I will con- fess my weakness, that now, when he is forsaken by all others, I purpose to ransom him, and receive him as my husband. You shall go to Sienna, to pay his ranSom to Gonzaga. Let him swear a solemn contract of espousal to me; which you must witness; if he should-but wh~ entertain these jealous fears? 0n thing more,-besides his freedom, h may require many necessaries,-furn ish him with these according to hii birth. And from Camie a e iver thu kiss, printed on your lips, and sealed on his hand." And Adorni promises faithfully to fulfil her commands, although they destroy all his own return once more to Sienna, where we find the Duchess Aurelia in possession of the town; the' Duke of Urbin a prisoner, and Bertoldo in a dungeon. Adorni having paid the required ransom, seeks Bertoldo in his prison to set him~ free; he finds him ptostr~te on the ground, almost senseless with despair; he causes his irons to be struck off; and watches with anxiety his awakening from his stupor: and when fully rouses, in.~ forms him he owes his deliverande to Camiola, TEE MAW or IIo~o~t. Ber- toldo pours out his gratitude to herr anxiou~Iy demanding what service he can render in return. And Adorni, faithful to his trust, informs him all she desires in return for his freedom is, that he binds himself by a solemn compact to marry her. Bertoldo, enraptured, declares this was' the highest object of his ambition, and wishes all were prepared to' join their hands with the same speed 'as his heart leaps to her. When told that he must swear to do this,- "Swear it 1,' he exclaims,- "'Swear it! collect ail oaths an~ imprecations, Whose least breaOh Is damnation, and those Iitnlaier'd to me in a torus more *seadfel; Set tteav.'n and hell be5're ~ne, I *sl ta~e them; F~lse to amiola? never Shall I now Beglamy VOWS heron?"' But Adorni is no churchman, and such a one must make a record of the oath. And the contract is made and sworn to: Bertoldo is once more free, furnished bravely according to the commands of Camiola, while poor Adorni is left to mourn his unhcsppy I love, and contemplate self-destructio~1 as the end of his woes. But his page: 86-87[View Page 86-87]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 86-87 86 THE DOWN-TRODDEN; OR, ~Obd g~I1~ 3~II~t5 1~I~IS tO thiS i~i3Si SYOU5ISS Awrelia to fury against Gon- sideration that the Roman custom of zaga; her sudden love bursts all self-murder will not hold water at bounds, and declares itself before the the high tribunal when it comes to assembled court; and Bertoldo, ab b~ argued. That it is but a bastard though his love for ~amiola is present kind of valor that kills itself to avoid to his mind; although he clearly sees misery. His life is like a. fortress r his black ingratitude to her; although committed to his. trust, which~ he the fearful oaths and imprecations n~u~t 'tot yield up till it is'forced, nor with which h~ bound himself are wifl"he.' True iralor consists in bear- ever present to his memory; yet led ii~g calamity boldly, not in daring to by his ambition to possess the crown dieto' avoid it. - Aurelia offers him, forswears Camiola, Aurelia is 'now restored to her his honor, and his oath, and yields power and authority, and sweetly does himself wholly to this new-born love. she temper justice with mercy: she He is anew contracted to the Duchess, would rather overcome with courtesies and they set out for Sicily, where she than severityy . And while she assures is to reconcile Bertoldo to the king, and tIm Duke of Urbin of gentle terms where a dispensation from his knightly to obtain1 his liberty, her upbraidings vows will enable them to marry. foiY'the pastare still more gentle. In the mean time Fulgentio, not next she turns to iiquire after content with the repulse he has met ]3ertoldo, whom she still thought the' with from Camiola and the chastise- prisoner of Gonsaga. She would inent he has receiVed from Adorni, wish to see this brave enemy, who, urges the king in person Ijo enforce sImis informed, is a goodly gentleman his commands on Camiola to give of noble parts; and desires Gonzaga him her hand. The l~ing, accom- to bring him to her presence. No panied by Fulgentio, visits Camiola, B6oner does he appear, than he makes as he says, to correct her stubborn as great an impression upon her ashe disobedience, and make her sue for had'before done on Camiola, to whom pardon... 'But Camiola will not so he wasnow contracted. wieng her innocence as to beg a "'~Fhis is he I" she says "how soon pardon unconscious of offence. She mine eye bath found him. A pri- asks her crime, and being told, that ~Aoiied a princely suitor rather 1" of having first scorned and neglected and, extending her hand to him, one whom tbe king favored, and then which he kneels to kiss, she says, having set on a desperate bravo to ~' You ill deserve the favor of our murder him, she boldly answers that liand,'that lifted y~nrs against me." subjects are not bound to love their And then dissembling the passion sovereign's vices: Those are tyrants, that burns in her veins, she declares not kings, who force the liberty of that he is still her prisoner, and Go~i- their souls from humble vassals. She 'zaga 'had no authority to free hiiA; cuuld not love Fulgentio, and it was tlaV she would pay back his ransom not within the prerogative of kings to 4en times over rather than let him go. 'compel affection. As to the second flertoldo urges that this is against charge, it was she to whom the t~ie law 'of arms, and a~eaks 'of the wrong had been done, and unless the hardships 'he has 'already suffered. king did her right, he was not fit to The usage ~f which he complains be a king. BLACK BLOOD AND WHITE. "L~& yveir laws," she says, "punish with death a man that breaks into another's house to rob it, though only of trifles, and shall Fulgeutio live, who by his malicious slanders has polluted my clear fame ?" 'The kii~g, aroused at this, demands of Fulgentio if this be true? and the inflian being obliged to confess that in his heat he had reported some- thing of the kind, the king banishes him from his presence, vowing that unless by true penitence he gains Camiola to sue his pardon, his grave is already dogged. "The lady shall know that while I weai' a crown, justice shall be impar- tially~dealt, even on those: nearest to us. ' "happy are the subjects," says (Jamiola, "when the prince is guided l~v justice, and not by his own pas- sionate will." Thus having got rid of one of her trouble's, Camiola trifles away the time, waiting in happy expectation the re- turn of her betrothed. At length. Adorni comes-and comes alone. Her first question is,- "Lives Bertoldo ?" and returned with safety." And she exclaims,- "Then it is not in the power of fate to add to, or take from, my' per- fect happiness: and ~et be should have made his first visit here." Doubts seem to be springing up in her mind, as she rapidly goes on,- a~There is he? with whom ?" "At the palace, with the Duchess of Sienna; he's very gracious with her: you may conceive the rest." All her anticipated joy is ended; she bids Adorni tell the tale; who relates all that has happened ;the oaths Bertoldo had sworn, the break- ing of those oaths, and his contract with the 1)~ohess of Sienna, which is speedily to be s~uictit1ed with mar- riage. "Didst thou not grieve, Adorni, when you saw this, as I do now to hear it I" But Adorni thought he had little reason to grieve, ' as Bertoldo's fall t~rom goodness might raise her opin- ion of his owi~ faith and truth. lint GambIa rebukes him for this feeling. "Here speaks the evil of your disposition9 As a man you should lament it, and not glory in it as flat- tering your false hopes. When good men pursue the path marked-out by virtue, the. blessed saints look on with joy; fiends and men made up of envy, with mourning. Whereas, if their divinity could partake of pas- sion, with me would they weep to behold the fair temple of Bertoldo's honor destroyed by his inconstancy; fiends only could rejoice. It is not well in you, Adorni." Adorni, in surprise at the rare tem- per manifested by her, says,~- "Can you pity him who showed none to you I" "His example," she replies, "should not make me cruel. You expect, perhaps, that I shall seek, to recover what I have lost by team, and beg his compassion on my bended knees. No: I scorn to stoop so low. I'll take another course, make the king his brother, and his new mistress, the. judges of my cause, and snatch him from her arms. You have the con- tract in which he swore to marry me I" "Here, madam." 'Tis well; he shall be then my husband, spite of his will. Send my confessor, father Paulo, to mc. I'll presently to court, attire myself as a youthful bride, and something do that shall excite men's wonder. 0 false men1 inconstant l. peijured I My page: 88-89[View Page 88-89]Switch to Image ModeCLOSE Page 88-89 88 TII1~ DOWN-TRODDEN; OR, good angel! help me in these extrem- "What can innocence hope for ities." when her judges are corrupted? The court of Sicily is full of splen- Disparity of birth and fortune! dor at the coming nuptials; the mar- Think of him as he was some few riage procession is about to proceed days back,-in fetters, his honor lost, to the temple, when it is arrested by and his liberty. Despair circling his the approach of Camiola. miseries with her black wings; the "Stay, royal sir," she says with king forbidding payn~ent of his ran- dignity; "and as you are a king, do som; his kinsi~en and protesting justice to an innocent maid." friends Calling oft from him; forsaken l3ertoldo' shrinks back; and the by the whole world; dead .,to all king assures her that as soon as the hope, and burned in the grave of hi~ marriage is over, she shall have audi- calamities; and then say where was enee and satisfaction to all she can the disparity with her, that., as his demand. But she tells him that her better angel appeared to him,*paid cause admits of n~ delay. his great ransom, and supplied his "if you proceed with the marri- wants with a prodigal hand. Being age before you hear me, you cannot thus my manumitted slave, does he do me justice. Bertoldo is the gui!- not owe himself to mel" ty man whom I accuse; and you are Bertoldo is silent, and the king bound to be impartial, although he is judges that his silence acknowledges your brother. I' bring no hired his guilt. Camiola goes on. tongue to plead for me. I stanU "If I have, dwelt too long on here mine own advocate, relying on what4 have done for this ungrateful the truth and justice of my cause.- man, pray pardon me, my caiise re- And if the king allow, I would have quired it. And though 1 now speak this lady, my greatest enemy, and of his ingratitude, 'tis to deter oth- this stranger prince, to be assistants era from the like. This serpent to him." warmed in my bosom, ruined his pre- AureBa, surprised, says,- server. The benefits I had done him, "I never wronged you." like words written iii water~ were no "Not knowingly," Camiola replies, more remembered. All washed away .nor will you in your judgment in his ambitious hopes to gain a duke- when you are aqenainted with my doin." story. Aurelia, piqued at this, says the They then take their seats, and object might excuse the change of Camioh~ presents the contract to the affection. But Camiola defends her king, sayi~ng,-' own, beauty for a moment with some "By this bond I ehahlen~e him little heat, then, subduing herself~ for my husband." says,-- The writing is admitted as authen- "Down, down, proud heart l Why tie; but Aureli~ urges that it was do I defend that which hathi undone done in the heat of blood, when me l I recant, madam; you are all charmed with her fiatterie~, and, so beauty, goodness, and virtue, and I might be 'dispensed with; 'and Duke~ not worthy to be a foil to set you off: Ferdinand thinks that the disparity enjoy your conquest, but do not ty- bel~ween their births and fortunes an- rannize over me. Yet you may make iiiil~ it. And Camiola bitterly him know that even as I am,--even says,- BLACK BLOOI) AND WhITE.. 89 iii my lowness,-if to all mcii else I the blessing, that, by favor of th~ ~ the shame and scorn of women, duchess, is offered me. And if, when lie is bound to hold me as the mi's- I am married, as this day I will be, terpicce." as a sign of your atonement you will The king turns to Bertoldo, and wish me joy, I will receive it in full tells him he has shown himself so ab- satisfaction of all you owe me. call ject, he grieves he is so near him in in the holy friar." blood. Feidinand now deems the And while all are waiting in as- disparity all on her side. Gonzaga tonishment for what is next to follow, taunts him with breaking the voiva father Paulo enters, and stepping up of his order for any woman; but, if to Camiola takes her by the hand, sa~ - lie must do so, Camiola is the only ing one 4o could justify him; and Au- "Thus as an ornament to the nba eels all the fires of love quench- church I seize her." ed in her compassion: she disclaims "Yes," says Camiola, as they all all interest in him, and hands over stand thunderstruck, "this is the mar- to Cainiola the dispensation which riage, this the port to which 'I steer. frees him from his vows and ena- Fill my sails with the pure wind of Ides him to marry. Then~ Bertoldo your prayers, that I may reach that lifts up his head and speaks :- secure haven where . no temptatio~is "I ,have wilfully strayed," lie says, ejiter. I am dead to the world. I "out of the noble track of virtue, thus dispose of ~ll my worldly surrendered up myself into the pow- goods :-one portion to the nunnery er of vice, and with my own hand to whica I dQdicate my life, another have branded on my forehead the to pious uses, the third to you, Ador- words, Disloyal and Ungrateful. I ni, for your true and faithful service. confess my guilt, and cannot hope I would ask the kiiig to pardon Ful- that one tear will be shed for my suf- gentio for the 'harm he did me; and firings." you, Bertoldo, as you hope like me Camiola tells him, that "Even this to be made happy, regime your compunction for the wr9ng you have knightly vows, and against the ene- done me, though your sorrow should mies of our faith redeem your mort~ not extend further, will, because I gaged honors. I am now at rest- loved you once, make these eyes conduct me where you please." weep for you. I do forgii~e you And this self sacrifice was the last heartily. Yet I must deny, myself public act of the MAID oF HoNoR. THE END.