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Mr Haley and Tom jogged onward in their wagon, each, for a time,absorbed in his own reflections. Now, the reflections of two men sitting side by side are a curious thing—seated on the same seat having the same eyes, ears, hands and organs of all sorts, and having pass before their eyes the same objects: it is wonderful what a variety we shall find in these same reflections
As, for example, Mr Haley; he thought first of Tom’s length, and breadth, and height, and what he would sell for, if he was kept fat and in good case till he got him into market. He thought of how he should make out his gang; he thought of the respective market value of certain supposititious men and women and children who were to compose it, and other kindred topics of the business; then he thought of himself, and how humane he was, that whereas other men chained their ‘niggers’ hand and foot both, he only put fetters on the feet, and left Tom the use of his hands,as long as he behaved well; and he sighed to think how ungrateful human nature was, so that there was even room to doubt whether Tom appreciated his mercies. He had been taken in so by ‘niggers’ whom he had favoured;but still he was astonished to consider how good-natured he yet remained!
As to Tom, he was thinking over some words of an unfashionable old book, which kept running through his head, again and again, as follows:‘We have here no continuing city, but we seek one to come; wherefore God himself is not ashamed to be called our God; for He hath prepared for us a city.’ These words of an ancient volume, got up principally by ‘ignorant and unlearned men’, have, through all time, kept up somehow a strange sort of power over the minds of poor, simple fellows, like Tom. They stir up the soul from its depths, and rouse, as with trumpet call, courage,energy, and enthusiasm, where before was only the blackness of despair.
Mr Haley, pulled out of his pocket sundry newspapers, and began looking over their advertisements with absorbed interest. He was not a remarkably fluent reader, and was in the habit of reading in a sort of recittive, half-aloud, by way of calling in his ears to verify the deductions of his eyes. In this tone he slowly recited the following paragraph—
‘This yer I must look at,’ said he to Tom, for want of somebody else to talk to. ‘Ye see, I’m going to get up a prime gang to take down with ye, Tom; it’ll make it sociable and pleasant like—good company will, ye know. We must drive right to Washington first and foremost, and then I’ll clap you into jail while I does the business.’
Tom received this agreeable intelligence quite meekly; simply wondering, in his own heart, how many of these doomed men had wives and children, and whether they would feel as he did about leaving them.It is to be confessed, too, that the naive, off-hand information that he was to be thrown into jail by no means produced an agreeable impression on a poor fellow who had always prided himself on a strictly honest and upright course of life. Yes, Tom, we must confess it, was rather proud of his honesty, poor fellow—not having very much else to be proud of; if he had belonged to some of the higher walks of society, he, perhaps, would never have been reduced to such straits. However, the day wore on, and the evening saw Haley and Tom comfortably accommodated in Washington—the one in a tavern, and the other in a jail.
About eleven o’clock the next day, a mixed throng was gathered around the courthouse steps—smoking, chewing, spitting, swearing, and conversing, according to their respective tastes and turns, waiting for the auction to commence. The men and women to be sold sat in a group apart,talking in a low tone to each other. The woman who had been advertised by the name of Hagar was a regular African in feature and figure. She might have been sixty, but was older than that by hard work and disease, was partially blind, and somewhat crippled with rheumatism. By her side stood her only remaining son, Albert, a bright-looking little fellow of fourteen years. The boy was the only survivor of a large family, who had been successively sold away from her to a Southern market. The mother held on to him with both her shaking hands, and eyed with intense trepidation everyone who walked up to examine him.
‘Don’t be fear’d, Aunt Hagar,’ said the oldest of the men, ‘I spoke to Mas’r Thomas ’bout it, and he thought he might manage to sell you in a lot both together.’
‘Dey needn’t call me worn out yet,’ said she, lifting her shaking hands.‘I can cook yet, and scrub, and scour—I’m wuth a buying, if I do come cheap; tell ’em dat ar—you tell ’em,’ she added, earnestly.
Haley here forced his way into the group, walked up to the old man,pulled his mouth open and looked in, felt of his teeth, made him stand and straighten himself, bend his back, and perform various evolutions to show his muscles; and then passed on to the next, and put him through the same trial. Walking up last to the boy, he felt of his arms, straightened his hands,and looked at his fingers, and made him jump, to show his agiliy.
‘He an’t gwine to be sold widout me!’ said the old woman with passionate eagerness; ‘he and I goes in a lot together; I’s rail-strong yet,Mas’r, and can do heaps o’ work—heaps on it, Mas’r.’
‘On plantation?’ said Haley, with a contemptuous glance. ‘Likely story!’ and, as if satisfied with his examination, he walked out and looked,and stood with his hands in his pocket, his cigar in his mouth, and his hat cocked on one side, ready for action.
‘What think of ’em?’ said a man who had been following Haley’s examination, as if to make up his own mind from it.
‘Wal,’ said Haley, spitting, ‘I shall put in, I think, for the youngerly ones and the boy.’
‘They want to sell the boy and the old woman together,’ said the man.
‘Find it a tight pull; why, she’s an old rack o’ bones—not worth her salt.’
‘You wouldn’t then?’ said the man.
‘Anybody’d be a fool ’twould. She’s half blind, crooked with rheumatis,and foolish to boot.’
‘Some buys up these yer old critturs, and ses there’s a sight more wear in ’em than a body’d think,’ said the man, reflectively
‘No go, ’tall,’ said Haley; ‘wouldn’t rake her for a present—fact: I’ve seen , now.’
‘Wal, ’tis kinder pity, now, not to buy her with her son—her heart seems so sot on him; s’pose they fling her in cheap.
‘Them that’s got money to spend that ar way, it’s all well enough. I shall bid off on that ar boy for a plantation-hand; wouldn’t be bothered with her, no way—not if they’d give her to me,’ said Haley.
‘She’ll take on desp’t,’ said the man.
‘Nat’lly, she will,’ said the trader, coolly.
The conversation was here interrupted by a busy hum in the audience;and the auctioneer, a short, bustling, important fellow, elbowed his way into the crowd. The old woman drew in her breath, and caught instinctively at her son.
‘Keep close to yer mammy, Albert—close—dey’ll put us up togedder,’she said.
‘Oh, mammy, I’m feard they won’t,’ said the boy.
‘Dey must, child; I can’t live, no ways, if they don’t,’ said the old creature vehemently.
The stentorian tones of the auctioneer, calling out to clear the way,now announced that the sale was about to commence. A place was cleared,and the bidding began. The different men on the list were soon knocked off at prices which showed a pretty brisk demand in the market; two of them fell to Haley.
‘Come, now, young un,’ said the auctioneer, giving the boy a touch with his hammer, ‘be up and show your springs, now.’
‘Put us two up togedder, togedder—do please, Mas’r,’ said the old woman, holding fast to her boy.
‘Be off,’ said the man, gruffly, pushing her hands away; ‘you come last. Now, darkey, spring;’ and, with the word, he pushed the boy toward the block, while a deep, heavy groan rose behind him. The boy paused, and looked back; but there was no time to stay, and dashing the tears from his large, bright eyes, he was up in a moment.
His fine figure, alert limbs, and bright face, raised an instant competition and half a dozen bids simultaneously met the ear of the auctioneer. Anxious,half-frightened, he looked from side to side, as he heard the clatter of contending bids, now here, now there—till the hammer fell. Haley had got him. He was pushed from the block towards his new master, but stopped one moment, and looked back, when his poor old mother, trembling in every limb, held out her shaking hands toward him.
‘Buy me, too, Mas’r, for de dear Lord’s sake!—buy me—I shall die if you don’t!’
‘You’ll die if I do, that’s the kink of it,’ said Haley. ‘No!’ And he turned on his heel.
The bidding for the poor old creature was summary. The man who had addressed Haley, and who seemed not destitute of compassion, bought her for a trifle, and the spectators began to disperse
The poor victims of the sale, who had been brought up in one place together for years, gathered round the despairing old mother, whose agony was pitiful to see.
‘Couldn’t dey leave me one? Mas’r allers said I should have one—he did,’ she repeated over and over, in heartbroken tones.
‘Trust in the Lord, Aunt Hagar,’ said the oldest of the men, sorrowfully.
‘What good will it do?’ said she, sobbing passionately.
‘Mother, mother! Don’t! don’t!’ said the boy. ‘They say you’s got a good master.’
‘I don’t care—I don’t care. Oh, Albeit! Oh, my boy! you’s my last baby. Lord, how ken I?’
‘Come, take her off, can’t some of ye?’ said Haley, dryly. ‘Don’t do no good for her to go on that ar way.’
The old men of the company, partly by persuasion and partly by force;loosed the poor creature’s last despairing hold, and, as they led her off to her new master’s wagon, strove to comfort her.
‘Now!’ said Haley, pushing his three purchases together, and producing a bundle of handcuffs, which he proceeded to put on their wrists; then fastening each handcuff to a long chain, he drove them before him to the jail.
A few days saw Haley, with his possessions, safely deposited on one of the Ohio boats. It was the commencement of his gang, to be augmented as the boat moved on, by various other merchandise of the same kind,which he, or his agent, had stored for him in various points along shore.
The La Belle Rivière , as brave and beautiful a boat as ever walked the waters of her namesake river, was floating gayly down the stream, under a brilliant sky, the stripes and stars of free America waving and fluttering overhead; the guards crowded with well-dressed ladies and gentlemen,walking and enjoying the delightful, day. All was full of life, buoyant, and rejoicing! all but Haley’s gang, who were stored, with other freight, on the lower deck, and who, somehow, did not seem to appreciate their various privileges, as they sat in a knot, talking to each other in low tones.
‘Boys,’ said Haley, coming up, briskly, ‘I hope you keep up good heart, and are cheerful. Now, no sulks, ye see; keep stiff upper lip, boys; do well by me, and I’ll do well by you.’
The boys addressed responded the invariable ‘Yes, Mas’r’, for ages the watchword of poor Africa; but it’s to be owned they did not look particularly cheerful. They had their various little prejudices in favour of wives, mothers, sisters and children, seen for the last time, and though ‘they that wasted them required of them mirth’, it was not instantly forthcoming.
‘I’ve got a wife,’ spoke out the article enumerated as ‘John, aged thirty’, and he laid his chained hand on Tom’s knee, ‘and she don’t know a word about this, poor girl!’
‘Where does she live?’ said Tom.
‘In a tavern a piece down here,’ said John; ‘I wish, now, I could see her once more in this world,’ he added.
Poor John! It was rather natural; and the tears that fell, as he spoke,came as naturally as if he had been a white man. Tom drew a long breath from a sore heart, and tried, in his poor way, to comfort him.
And overhead, in the cabin, sat fathers and mothers, husbands and wives; and merry, dancing children moved round among them, like so many little butterflies, and everything was going on quite easy and comfortable.
‘Oh, mamma,’ said a boy, who had just come up from below, ‘there’s a negro trader on board, and he’s brought four or five slaves down there.
‘Poor creatures!’ said the mother, in a tone between grief and indignation.
‘What’s that?’ said another lady.
‘Some poor slaves below,’ said the mother.
‘And they’ve got chains on,’ said the boy.
‘What a shame to our country that such sights are to be seen!’ said another lady.
‘Oh, there’s a great deal to be said on both sides of the subject,’ said a genteel woman, who sat at her stateroom door, sewing, while her little girl and boy were playing round her. ‘I’ve been South, and I must say I think the negroes are better off than they would he to be free.’
‘In some respects, some of them are well off, I grant,’ said the lady to whose remark she had answered. ‘The most dreadful pan of slavery, to my mind, is its outrages on the feelings and affections—the separating of families, for example.’
‘That is a bad thing, certainly,’ said the other lady, holding up a baby’s dress she had just completed, and looking intently on its trimmings; ‘but then, I fancy, it don’t occur often.’
‘Oh, it does,’ said the first lady, eagerly; ‘I’ve lived many years in Kentucky and Virginia both, and I’ve seen enough to make anyone’s heart sick. Suppose, ma’am, your two children there, should be taken from you,and sold?’
‘We can’t reason from our feelings to those of this class of persons,’said the other lady, sorting out some worsteds on her lap.
‘Indeed, ma’am, you can know nothing of them, if you say so,’answered the first lady, warmly. ‘I was born and brought up among them. I knew they do feel, just as keenly—even more so, perhaps—as we do.’
The lady said, ‘Indeed!’ yawned, and looked out the cabin window,and finally repeated, for a finale, the remark with which she had begu‘After all, I think they are better off than they would be to be free.’
‘It’s undoubtedly the intention of Providence that the African race should be servants—kept in a low condition,’ said a grave-looking gentleman in black, a clergyman, seated by the cabin-door. ‘ “Cursed be Canaan; a servant of servants shall he be,” the Scripture says.’
‘I say, stranger, is that ar what that text means?’ said a tall man,standing by.
‘Undoubtedly. It pleased Providence, for some inscrutable reason, to doom the race to bondage ages ago; and we must not set up our opinion against that.’
‘Well, then, we’ll all go ahead and buy up niggers,’ said the man, ‘if that’s the way of Providence: won’t we squire?’ said he, turning to Haley,who had been standing, with his hands in his pockets, by the stove, and intently listening to the conversation.
‘Yes,’ continued the tall man; ‘we must all be resigned to the decrees of Providence. Niggers must be sold, and trucked round, and kept under;it’s what they’s made for. ’Pears like this yer view’s quite refreshing, an’t it, stranger?’ said he to Haley.
‘I never thought on’t,’ said Haley. ‘I couldn’t have said as much,myself: I ha’nt no larning. I took up the trade just to make a living; if ’tan’t right, I calculated to ’pent on’t in time, ye know.’
‘And now you’ll save yerself the trouble, won’t ye?’ said the tall man.‘See what ’tis, now, to know Scripture. If ye’d only studied yer Bible, like this yer good man, ye might have know’d it before, and saved ye a heap o’trouble. Ye could jist have said, “Cussed be”—what’s his name?—and’twould all have come right.’ And the stranger, who was no other than the honest drover whom we introduced to our readers in the Kentucky tavern,sat down, and began smoking, with a curious smile on his long, dry face.
A tall, slender young man, with a face expressive of great feeling and intelligence, here broke in, and repeated the words, ‘ “All things whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so unto them.” I suppose,’ he added, ‘ that is Scripture, as much as, “Cursed be Canaan.” ’
‘Wal, it seems quite as plain a text, stranger,’ said John, the drover, ‘to poor fellows like us, now;’ and John smoked on like a volcano.
The young man paused, looked as if he was going to say more, when suddenly the boat stopped, and the company made the usual steamboat rush to see where they were landing.
‘Both them ar chaps parsons?’ said John to one of the men, as they were going out.
The man nodded.
As the boat stopped, a black woman came running wildly up the plank,darted into the crowd, flew up to where the slave-gang sat, and threw her arms round that unfortunate piece of merchandise before enumerated ‘John,aged thirty’, and with sobs and tears bemoaned him as her husband.
But what needs tell the story, told too oft—every day told—of heartstrings rent and broken—the weak broken and torn for the profit and convenience of the strong! It needs not to be told; every day is telling it—telling it, too, in the ear of One who is not deaf, though He be long silent.
The young man who had spoken for the cause of humanity and God before, stood with folded arms, looking on this scene. He turned, and Haley was standing at his side. ‘My friend,’ he said, speaking with thick utterance, ‘how can you, how dare you, carry on a trade like this? Look at those poor creatures! Here I am, rejoicing in my heart that I am going home to my wife and child! and the same bell which is a signal to carry me onward towards them will part this poor man and his wife for ever. Depend upon it, God will bring you into judgement for this.’
The trader turned away in silence.
‘I say, now,’ said the drover, touching his elbow, ‘there’s differences in parsons, an’t there? “Cussed be Canaan” don’t seem to go down with this ’un, does it?’
Haley gave an uneasy growl.
‘And that ar an’t the worst on’t,’ said John; ‘mabbe it won’t go down with the Lord, neither, when ye come to settle with Him, one o’ these days,as all on us must, I reckon.’
Haley walked reflectively to the other end of the boat
‘If I make pretty handsomely on one or two next gangs,’ he thought,‘I reckon I’ll stop off this yer; it’s really getting dangerous.’ And he took out his pocket-book, and began adding over his accounts, a process which many gentlemen besides Mr Haley have found a specific for an uneasy conscience.
The boat swept proudly away from the shore, and all went on merrily,as before. Men talked, and loafed, and read, and smoked. Women sewed,and children played, and the boat passed on her way.
One day, when she lay to for a while at a small town in Kentucky,Haley went up into the place on a little matter of business.
Tom, whose fetters did not prevent his taking a moderate circuit, had drawn near the side of the boat, and stood listlessly gazing over the railings. After a time, he saw the trader returning, with an alert step, in company with a coloured woman, bearing in her arms a young child. She was dressed quite respectably, and a coloured man followed her, bringing along a small trunk. The woman came cheerfully onward, talking, as she came, with the man who bore her trunk, and so passed up the plank into the boat. The bell rang, the steamer whizzed, the engine groaned and coughed,and away swept the boat down the river.
The woman walked forward among the boxes and bales of the lower deck, and sitting down, busied herself with chirruping to her baby.
Haley made a turn or two about the boat, and then, coming up, seated himself near her, and began saying something to her in an indifferent undertone.
Tom soon noticed a heavy cloud passing over the woman’s brow, and that she answered rapidly, and with great vehemence.
‘I don’t believe it; I won’t believe it!’ he heard her say. ‘You’re jist a foolin’ with me.’
‘If you won’t believe it, look here!’ said the man, drawing out a paper;‘this yer’s the bill of sale, and there’s your master’s name to it; and I paid down good solid cash for it, too, I can tell you—so now!’
‘I don’t believe Mas’r would cheat me so; it can’t be true!’ said the woman, with increasing agitation.
‘You can ask any of these men here that can read writing. Here!’ he said, to a man that was passing by, ‘jist read this yer, won’t you! This yer gal won’t believe me, when I tell her what ’tis.’
‘Why, it’s a bill of sale, signed by John Fosdick,’ said the man, ‘making over to you the girl Lucy and her child. It’s all straight enough, for aught I see.’
The woman’s passionate exclamations collected a crowd around her,and the trader briefly explained to them the cause of the agitaion.
‘He told me that I was going down to Louisville, to hire out as cook to the same tavern where my husband works; that’s what Mas’r told me, his own self, and I can’t believe he’d lie to me,’ said the woman.
‘But he has sold you, my poor woman, there’s no doubt about it,’ said a good-natured looking man, who had been examining the papers; ‘he has done it, and no mistake.’
‘Then it’s no account talking,’ said the woman, suddenly growing quite calm; and, clasping her child tighter in her arms, she sat down on her box, turned her back round, and gazed listlessly into the river.
‘Going to take it easy, after all!’ said the trader. ‘Gal’s got grit, I see.’
The woman looked calm, as the boat went on; and a beautiful, soft,summer breeze passed, like a compassionate spirit, over her head—the gentle breeze, that never enquires whether the brow is dusky or fair that it fans. And she saw sunshine sparkling on the water, in golden ripples, and heard gay voices, full of ease and pleasure, talking around her everywhere;but her heart lay as if a great stone had fallen on it. Her baby raised himself up against her, and stroked her cheeks with his little hands; and, springing up and down, crowing and chatting, seemed determined to arouse her.She strained him suddenly and tightly in her arms, and slowly one tear after another fell on his wondering, unconscious face; and gradually she seemed, and little by little, to grow calmer, and busied herself with tending and nursing him.
The child, a boy of ten months, was uncommonly large and strong of his age, and very vigorous in his limbs. Never, for a moment, still, he kept his mother constantly busy in holding him, and guarding his springing activity.
‘That’s a fine chap!’ said a man, suddenly stopping opposite to him,with his hands in his pockets. ‘How old is he?’
‘Ten months and a half,’ said the mother.
The man whistled to the boy, and offered him part of a stick of candy,which he eagerly grabbed at, and very soon had it in a baby’s general depository; to wit, his mouth.
‘Rum fellow!’ said the man. ‘Knows what’s what!’ and he whistled and walked on. When he had got to the other side of the boat, he came across Haley, who was smoking on top of a pile of boxes.
The stranger produced a match and lighted a cigar, saying, as he did so—
‘Decentish kind o’ wench you’ve got round there, stranger.’
‘Why, I reckon she is tol’able fair,’ said Haley, blowing the smoke out of his mouth.
‘Taking her down south?’ said the man.
Haley nodded, and smoked on.
‘Plantation hand?’ said the man.
‘Wal,’ said Haley, ‘I’m filling out an order for a plantation, and I think I shall put her in. They telled me she was a good cook; and they can use her for that, or set her at the cotton-picking. She’s got the right fingers for that; I looked at ’em. Sell well, either way;’ and Haley resumed his cigar.
‘They won’t want the young’un on a plantation,’ said the man.
‘I shall sell him, first chance I find,’ said Haley, lighting another ciga‘S’pose you’d be selling him tol’able cheap,’ said the stranger, mounting the pile of boxes, and sitting down comfortably.
‘Don’t know ’bout that,’ said Haley; ‘he’s a pretty smart young’un—straight, fat, strong; flesh as hard as a brick!
‘Very true; but then there’s all the bother and expense of raisin’.’
‘Nonsense!’ said Haley, ‘they is raised as easy as any kind of critter there is going; they an’t a bit more trouble than pups. This yer chap will be running all round in a month.’
‘I’ve got a good place for raisin’, and I drought of takin’ in a little more stock,’ said the man. ‘One cook lost a young ’un last week—got drownded in a wash-tub, while she was a hangin’ out clothes; and I reckon it would be well enough to set her to raisin’ this yer.’
Haley and the stranger smoked a while in silence, neither seeming willing to broach the test question of the interview. At last the man resumed—
‘You wouldn’t think of wantin’ more than ten dollars for that ar chap,seeing you must get him off yer hands, anyhow?’
Haley shook his head and spat impressively.
‘That won’t do, no ways,’ he said, and began his smoking again.
‘Well, stranger, what will you take?’
‘Well, now,’ said Haley, ‘I could raise that ar chap myself, or get him raised; he’s oncommon likely and healthy, and he’d fetch a hundred dollars six months hence; and, in a year or two, he’d bring two hundred, if I had him in the right spot; so I shan’t take a cent less nor fifty for him now.
‘Oh, stranger! that’s rediculous, altogether,’ said the man.
‘Fact!’ said Haley, with a decisive nod of his head.
‘I’ll give thirty for him,’ said the stranger, ‘but not a cent more.’
‘Now, I’ll tell ye what I will do,’ said Haley, spitting again, with renewed decision. ‘I’ll split the difference, and say forty-five; and that’s the most I will do.’
‘Well, agreed!’ said the man, after an interval.
‘Done!’ said Haley. ‘Where do you land?’
‘At Louisville,’ said the man.
‘Louisville,’ said Haley. ‘Very fair, we get there about dusk. Chap will be asleep—all fair—get him off quietly, and no screaming—happens beautiful—I like to do everything quietly—I hates all kind of agitation and fluster.’ And so, after a transfer of certain bills had passed from the man’s pocket-book to the trader’s, he resumed his cigar.
It was a bright, tranquil evening when the boat stopped at the wharf at Louisville. The woman had been sitting with her baby in her arms, now wrapped in a heavy sleep. When she heard the name of the place called out, she hastily laid the child down in a little cradle formed by the hollow among the boxes, first carefully spreading under it her cloak; and then she sprang to the side of the boat, in hopes that, among the various hotel-waiters who thronged the wharf, she might see her husband. In this hope, she pressed forward to the front rails, and, stretching far over them, strained her eyes intently on the moving heads on the shore, and the crowd pressed in between her and the child.
‘Now’s your time,’ said Haley, taking the sleeping child up, and handing him to the stranger. ‘Don’t wake him up, and set him to crying,now; it would make a devil of a fuss with the gal.’ The man took the bundle carefully, and was soon lost in the crowd that went up the wharf.
When the boat, creaking, and groaning, and puffing, had loosed from the wharf, and was beginning slowly to strain herself along, the woman returned to her old seat. The trader was sitting there—the child was gone!
‘Why, why—where?’ she began, in bewildered surprise.
‘Lucy,’ said the trader, ‘your child’s gone; you may as well know it first as last. You see, I know’d you couldn’t take him down south; and I got a chance to sell him to a first-rate family, that’ll raise him better than you can.’
The trader had arrived at that stage of Christian and political perfection which has been recommended by some preachers and politicians of the North, lately, in which he had completely overcome every humane weakness and prejudice. His heart was exactly where yours, sir, and mine could he brought, with proper effort and cultivation. The wild look of anguish and utter despair that the woman cast on him might have disturbed one less practised; but he was used to it. He had seen that same look hundreds of times. You can get used to such things, too, my friend; and it is the great object of recent efforts to make our whole Northern community used to them, for the glory of the Union. So the trader only regarded the mortal anguish which he saw working in those dark features, those clenched hands, and suffocating breathings, as necessary incidents of the trade, and merely calculated whether she was going to scream, and get up a commotion on the boat; for, like other supporters of our peculiar institutions,he decidedly disliked agitation.
But the woman did not scream. The shot had passed too straight and direct through the heart for cry or tear.
Dizzily she sat down. Her slack hands fell lifeless by her side. Her eyes looked straight forward, but she saw nothing. All the noise and hum of the boat, the groaning of the machinery, mingled dreamily to her bewildered ear; and the poor, dumb-stricken heart had neither cry nor tear to show for its utter misery. She was quite calm.
The trader, who, considering his advantages, was almost as humane as some of our politicians, seemed to feel called on to administer such consolation as the case admitted of.
‘I know this yer comes kinder hard, at first, Lucy,’ said he; ‘but such a smart, sensible gal as you are, won’t give way to it. You see it’s necessary ,and can’t be helped!’
‘Oh, don’t, Mas’r, don’t!’ said the woman, with a voice like one that is smothering.
‘You’re a smart wench, Lucy,’ he persisted; ‘I mean to do well by ye,and get ye a nice place down river; and you’ll soon get another husband,such a likely gal as you—’
‘Oh, Mas’r, if you only won’t talk to me now,’ said the woman, in a voice of such quick and living anguish, that the trader felt that there was something at present in the case beyond his style of operation. He got up,and the woman turned away, and buried her head in her cloak.
The trader walked up and down for a time, and occasionally stopped and looked at her.
‘Takes it hard, rather,’ he soliloquised, ‘but quiet, tho’. Let her sweat a while—she’ll come right, by and by!’
Tom had watched the whole transaction from first to last, and had a perfect understanding of its results. To him, it looked like something unutterably horrible and cruel, because, poor, ignorant black soul! he had not learned to generalise, and to take enlarged views. If he had only been instructed by certain ministers of Christianity, he might have thought better of it, and seen in it an everyday incident of a lawful trade; a trade which is the vital support of an institution which an American divine tells us, has ‘ no evils but such as are inseparable from any other relations in social and domestic life ’. But Tom, as we see, being a poor, ignorant fellow, whose reading had been confined entirely to the New Testament, could not comfort and solace himself with views like these. His very soul bled within him for what seemed to him the wrongs of the poor suffering thing that lay like a crashed reed on the boxes; the feeling, living, bleeding, yet immortal thing , which American state law coolly classes with the bundles,and bales, and boxes, among which she is lying.
Tom drew near, and tried to say something; but she only groaned.Honestly, and with tears running down his own cheeks, he spoke of a heart of love in the skies, of a pitying Jesus, and an eternal home; but the ear was deaf with anguish, and the palsied heart could not feel.
Night came on—night calm, unmoved, and glorious, shining down with her innumerable and solemn angel eyes, twinkling, beautiful, but silent. There was no speech nor language, no pitying voice or helping hand,from that distant sky. One after another the voices of business or pleasure died away; all on the boat were sleeping, and the ripples at the prow were plainly heard. Tom stretched himself out on a box, and there, as he lay, he heard, ever and anon, a smothered sob or cry from the prostrate creature.‘Oh, what shall I do? Oh, Lord! Oh, good Lord, do help me!’ and so, ever and anon, until the murmur died away in silence.
At midnight, Tom waked, with a sudden start. Something black passed quickly by him to the side of the boat, and he heard a splash in the water.No one else saw or heard anything. He raised his head—the woman’s place was vacant! He got up, and sought about him in vain. The poor bleeding heart was still, at last, and the river rippled and dimpled just as brightly as if it had not closed above it.
Patience! patience! ye whose hearts swell indignant at wrongs like these. Not one throb of anguish, not one tear of the oppressed, is forgotten by the Man of Sorrows, the Lord of Glory. In his patient, generous bosom he bears the anguish of a world. Bear thou, like him, in patience, and labour in love; for sure as he is God, ‘the year of his redeemed shall come’.
The trader waked up bright and early, and came out to see to his live stock. It was now his turn to look about in perplexity.
‘Where alive is that gal?’ he said to Tom.
Tom, who had learned the wisdom of keeping counsel, did not feel called on to state his observations and suspicions, but said he did not know.
‘She surely couldn’t have got off in the night at any of the landings,for I was awake, and on the look-out whenever the boat stopped. I never trust these yer things to other folks.’
This speech was addressed to Tom quite confidentially, as if it was something that would be specially interesting to him. Tom made no answer.
The trader searched the boat from stem to stern, among boxes, bales and barrels, around the machinery, by the chimneys, in vain.
‘Now, I say, Tom, be fair about this yer,’ he said, when, after a fruitless search, he came where Tom was standing. ‘You know something about it,now. Don’t tell me—I know you do. I saw the gal stretched out here about ten o’clock, and agin at twelve, and agin between one and two; and then at four she was gone, and you was a sleeping right there all the time. Now,you know something—you can’t help it.’
‘Well, Mas’r,’ said Tom, ‘towards morning something brushed by me,and I kinder half woke; and then I beam a great splash, and then I clare woke up, and the gal was gone. That’s all I know on’t.’
The trader was not shocked nor amazed; because, as we said before,he was used to a great many things that you are not used to. Even the awful presence of Death struck no solemn chill upon him. He had seen Death many times—met him in the way of trade, and got acquainted with him—and he only thought of him as a hard customer, that embarrassed his property operations very unfairly; and so he only swore that the gal was a baggage, and that he was devilish unlucky, and that, if things went on in this way, he should not make a cent on the trip. In short, he seemed to consider himself an ill-used man, decidedly; but there was no help for it, as the woman had escaped into a State which never will give up a fugitive—not even at the demand of the whole glorious Union. The trader, therefore,sat discontentedly down, with his little account-book, and put down the missing body and soul under the head of losses !
‘He’s a shocking creature, isn’t he, this trader?—so unfeeling! It’s dreadful, really!’
‘Oh, but nobody thinks anything of these traders! They are universally despised—never received into any decent society.’
But who, sir, makes the trader? Who is most to blame? The enlightened, cultivated, intelligent man, who supports the system of which the trader is the inevitable result, or the poor trader himself? You make the public sentiment that calls for his trade, that debauches and depraves him, till he feels no shame in it; and in what are you better than he?
Are you educated and he ignorant, you high and he low, you refined and he coarse, you talented and he simple?
In the day of a future judgement these very considerations may make it more tolerable for him than for you.
In concluding these little incidents of lawful trade, we must beg the world not to think that American legislators are entirely destitute of humanity, as might, perhaps, be unfairly inferred from the great efforts made in our national body to protect and perpetuate this species of traffic
Who does not know how our great men are outdoing themselves in declaiming against the foreign slave-trade. There are a perfect host of Clarksons and Wilberforces risen up among us on that subject, most edifying to hear and behold. Trading negroes from Africa, dear reader, is so horrid! It is not to be thought of! But trading them from Kentucky—that’s quite another thing!