Library of Congress Subject Headings, 21st edition, 1998

Languages Used:

• English

LC Subject Headings:

• Slaves -- Virginia -- Fiction.
• Slavery -- Virginia -- Fiction.
• Fugitive slaves -- Virginia -- Fiction.
• Fugitive slaves -- United States -- Fiction.

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JAMIE PARKER,
THE
FUGITIVE.

BY

MRS. EMILY CATHARINE PIERSON.

                         "There is no flesh in man's obdurate heart,
                         It does not feel for man; the natural bond
                         Of brotherhood is severed as the flax
                         That falls asunder at the touch of fire.
                         He finds his fellow guilty of a skin
                         Not colored like his own; and having power
                         To enforce the wrong for such a worthy cause,
                         Dooms and devotes him as his lawful prey."

--Cowper.

HARTFORD:
BROCKETT, FULLER, AND CO.,
No. 219 MAIN STREET.
1851.

ENTERED, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1851,
By CHARLES HENRY PIERSON,
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Connecticut. STEREOTYPED BY RICHARD H. HOBBS, HARTFORD, CONN.
PRINTED BY WALTER S. WILLIAMS, HARTFORD, CONN.

PREFACE.

        THE materials of this sketch were gathered during a residence at the South. Pleasant reminiscences of kind friends there, render it impossible for the writer to cherish sectional prejudices. Like many southerners, however, she can not shut her eyes to the deformity of that Power that casts so dark a shade of guilt on our land. Cradled among New England hills and with hearty sympathies for the heroes of freedom of all ages, and of every country, she can not view unmoved the life-and-death struggles of those now flying from a degrading servitude.

        It is believed that very few, for a moment, even in imagination, enter the cabin of the poor man at the South, putting their soul in his soul's stead--much less dwelling on the minute and ever-repeated details of his life of toil and privation. And although thousands of this class have shown themselves to be men with great souls, by their aspirations for liberty; although they

have proved themselves noble heroes by "struggling with misfortunes as with a load," by invincibly conquering an opposing army of difficulties--
                         "Breasting the dark storm; the red bolt defying;"
surmounting all, and gaining the glorious boon of freedom; yet how few of us have followed with our kind sympathies, even one of these wonderful overcomers, in his perilous course of honorable achievement.

        To give a glimpse of the distresses of the poor southern laborer, and of the stern struggler for freedom, the writer launches her little work on the sea of Public Opinion. May it plead effectually for the hunted outcast, and for the three millions of our enslaved countrymen.

FEBRUARY, 1851.

ANALYSIS OF CHAPTERS.

• CHAPTER I.
  The planter's advertisement. Some account of Jamie. Old Scipio. Hog Minder General. Inventory of Jamie's family. Sketch of old Scipio. His cabin. Old Agga. The slave preacher. The key of knowledge withheld.
• CHAPTER II.
  Jamie in Scipio's cabin. Usefully employed. He commences learning to read. Surprise from the patrol. Jamie punished by the overseer.
• CHAPTER III.
  Agga restores Scipio. He goes to the Quarter for Jamie. Overseer Brazen's management. Decline of Scipio. Mrs. Chadwick's visit. A triumphant death.
• CHAPTER IV.
  Jamie a field-laborer. A responsible character. The foreman. Jinny. Foreman Ned. The field-hands hoeing corn. Aunt Mag and her bakery. The field breakfast. Plantation hours.
• CHAPTER V.
  'Lowance Sunday. The key-basket. Mrs. Dorothy. Jamie's Bible returned. Slave John's escape. Malice of Brazen. Kindness of Mrs. Chadwick. Tray. Sick Kitt. Spinning Jinny. The overseer reprimanded. Jinny's task.
• CHAPTER VI.
  Mrs. Chadwick and daughters go North. Overseer Brazen's wife. Two turkeys missing. Brazen and Ned's conspiracy. Mrs. Brazen a literary character.

  ---

  Page vi

• CHAPTER VII.
  Letter from the North. Loss of Judy and Rose. Efforts to take them. Their worth. Mrs. Chadwick afflicted. Want of money.
• CHAPTER VIII.
  New sorrow for Jinny and her sons. No friend to help. Sabbath. Court day.
• CHAPTER IX.
  Jinny's sons in the court house jail. Auction. Jamie sold. The sale of Tray. The hammer goes down on little Kitt. Similar articles disposed of. Sales necessary. Redfield's estate. Little Ella. Contrasts.
• CHAPTER X.
  Preparation for a journey. A bargain made. Black Brownson exposed to slavery. Gripe's disappointment. Laments his stupidity. Cruelty. The caravan stops for the night.
• CHAPTER XI.
  The encampment supper. Soul-buyers helpless. Jamie's plan for the escape. Slave fear. The flight.
• CHAPTER XII.
  Jinny a maniac. What the fugitive must expect. Jamie and his companions. The buyers at the encampment. A discovery. The pursuit. Progress of Jamie and those with him.
• CHAPTER XIII.
  An encounter. Fears. Kind treatment. Old Archy's plans for their safety. They seek the mountain cave.
• CHAPTER XIV.
  God made the slave's hiding-places. The cave is found. Gripe and his overseer disappointed. Return to the encampment. Go to Richmond. Slave-dealer's advertisement. Sensation.

  ---

  Page vii

• CHAPTER XV.
  Reckoning with conscience. Letter from Saratoga. Mr. Chadwick distressed. Writes to his daughters.
• CHAPTER XVI.
  Archy and Carlo set out for the cave. Gumfrey and Tray. A happy meeting. Sufferings of comrades left behind. Jamie resolves to go to their help. Discovers their hiding-place. He gives them food and persuades them to follow him.
• CHAPTER XVII.
  Sadness in the cave. Fifty huntsmen. Jamie and his companions overpowered. Rejoicings at the inn. Rum the moderator. Secret departure of the captors.
• CHAPTER XVIII.
  Solicitude in the cave for Jamie. Tray's anxiety. Ella is seized with a raging fever. Archy's visit. He returns for medicine. Encounters the patrol. Archy and Edy at the cave. Ella dies.
• CHAPTER XIX.
  Jamie in jail. Gripe's good bargain. Jamie again a field-hand. Redfield. Overseer Turk. Jupe, the young giant. The deed of blood. Jupe is taken. Jinny's grave. Jamie escapes. George Whitely, Esq., discovers that overseer Turk is dead. Jupe's sentence and execution.
• CHAPTER XX.
  Jamie returns to the cave. The fugitives set out for the North. Reach a free state. The good Quaker. Important to the South. Mr. Whitely writes to a Philadelphia friend. The reply. Conscientiousness.
• CHAPTER XXI.
  The New York Committee of Vigilance welcome the flying strangers. Arrive in Rochester. John's cottage. Judy and Rose. Meeting of the free family. Conclusion.

TO
LOVERS OF LIBERTY,
AND TO ALL
WHO HAVE HEARTS TO SYMPATHIZE
WITH SUFFERING,
THIS WORK
IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED.

JAMIE PARKER THE FUGITIVE.

CHAPTER I.

        The planter's advertisement. Some account of Jamie. Old Scipio. Hog Minder General. Inventory of Jamie's family. Sketch of old Scipio. His cabin. Old Agga. The slave preacher. The key of knowledge withheld.

        OUR hero is most naturally introduced by his master, in the following advertisement:

        Jamie Parker was a native Virginian, and until about twenty-one years of age, was attached to a plantation in--county, on the James' river. The owner of this plantation we will call Charles Chadwick, and the plantation itself, Monmouth. Jamie was descended from an illustrious line, as his fathers were kings in Africa. The first of the family that was captured and sold, died of a broken spirit, while his little son, Scipio, more unfortunate, lived to be a slave. This Scipio was grandfather to Jamie. The earliest years of Jamie were the happiest he spent in slavery; for regular slave-tasks were not assigned him until he was eight years old. On the Monmouth estate, this was the age at which children were considered capable of commencing field-work. It was also the regulation on this plantation, that no child should draw any allowance of food until old enough to work. Now as all the farm people of the plantation went regularly to Monmouth House for their monthly rations, which barely sufficed for themselves, it was no trifling inconvenience to have no provision made for their little ones. Our Jamie, who was the third child of John and Jinny, might often be seen, with his half-clad brothers and sisters, seeking food in the forest, ash-pones^*

        * Ash-pones are made of corn-meal, mixed with salt and water, to the necessary consistency, shaped and baked in the ashes.

father and mother to satisfy their hunger. But they bore the deprivation very patiently, doubtless thinking themselves as happy as the birds and squirrels, with whom they gained a scanty subsistence, sharing their berries and nuts. Blithe and joyous they were nevertheless, at times, for childhood is mirthful, and how could they realize a tithe of the sorrows of slavery? Yet it must be admitted that Jamie and his little associates often felt the pitiless pinchings of hunger; and the time went by, oh how wearily! for the father and mother being in the field the live-long day, their children must amuse and take care of themselves as best they could.

        The "Negro Quarter" (such was the appellation of the little hamlet of the farm people) of the Monmouth plantation, was bordered on one side by a forest, which belonged to the estate. In the center of this forest, which was six miles in circuit, dwelt old Scipio, grandfather of Jamie. He was superannuated, and it was his business, since he was too infirm for field-work, to take charge of the hogs belonging to the establishment, forty or fifty in number. Before old Scipio's log-house was a partial clearing, and it was there, at stated times, that he called together the whole herd, to feed them, and see that none were missing; for this purpose he was accustomed to blow a tin horn. Old Scipio was

no less a personage than the "Hog Minder General;" so he was called, and in this capacity was he entered on the "Inventory" taken yearly by the "overseer." At this time, Jamie being six years old, a part of the inventory read thus:

        And thus the inventory went on, giving the name, occupation, and supposed age of all the slaves on the plantation. Then followed a list of the household and kitchen furniture, stock, plantation utensils, &c.

        The "first families in Virginia," descendants of the English, have coats of arms, genealogies, and carefully-kept records in their old family bibles. The African Virginians, too, have a carefully-written genealogy, kept after the most approved system of slave-heraldry; the overseer himself being the Herald, or King at Arms. Aye, they have pedigree, title, and rank; they have caste with the plantation stock; are classified with chairs

and tables, stoves and kettles, beds and bedding; all goods and chattels under the immediate supervision of the overseer!

        We can not refrain from giving a sketch of good old Scipio. When young, he was full six feet in height, but now somewhat bowed, through toil and age. His hair was wooly-white; his head and features indicated no ordinary mind. His natural superiority gave a certain dignity to his air, with which slavery could not intermeddle. He had the confidence of his master and mistress, the respect of the overseer, and the love of the farm people, to whom he sustained somewhat the relation of Patriarch. He meekly bowed to the trying allotment of his condition, for he had other than earthly hopes. He was considered the main stay of the plantation, as he had an unbounded influence over his fellow-bondmen, and never encouraged rebellion or revolt. More work was done, and in better order, on Monmouth plantation, than on any other farm in the vicinity, and this was justly attributed to the good moral influence of Scipio, which rendered the people docile, and diligent in business.

        As we have said, he lived in a comfortable log-cabin, in the recesses of Monmouth forest; and just about it, there was enough of a clearing among the ancient

trees, to admit the sun's rays some two or three hours of the day. In the rear of the dwelling, several oaks formed an impenetrable shade, and certain hollies and laurels wove an evergreen hedge. This fastness was a great resort of the wild-wood warblers, being frequented by the mocking-bird and the Virginia red-bird, who, doubtless, agreed to supply the wood with music.

        Old Scipio's cabin had two rooms, a sleeping apartment, and a kitchen. Extending across one side of the latter was a huge fire-place, composed of logs and clay. So large was it, that the Hog Minder General could sit in one corner of it of a winter's evening, and gaze at the sky; old Agga, the while, sitting in the opposite corner, ceaselessly knitting, while her dim eyes tried to spell out the fire. And this may serve as an illustration of the difference between them. Scipio looked above, with a soul at perfect peace, stayed on God. His tranquil mind was like the cloudless sky. Agga's gaze was downward. In the inventory she was labeled "old and useless;" justly, for the light of hope was all extinct within her. At best, her fate had been dim. Lacking the rich consolation possessed by Scipio, the chains of slavery were more galling to her. Ah, who shall tell the weight of woe crushing her for long weary years? Old in the midst of her days, the light and joy of her

existence went out, when two loved children were torn from her frantic embrace, and sent to the sugar plantations of the far southwest! Now she was not only "useless," but in a measure helpless. Although she would sit by the hour knitting mechanically, yet her mind was nearly gone Old Scipio, day after day, prepared their simple meals, of which there was seldom any other variety than ash-pones with meat, and ash-pones without meat--being one-fourth of the time of the one, and three-fourths of the other.

        From a very early age, Scipio had been the only preacher for the slaves of the Monmouth plantation. Before he became infirm, the old carpenter's shop was the Sabbath rendezvous, but when he removed from the "quarter," his forest-home became the place of meeting. It was a pleasant sight of a summer Sabbath morning, to see the poor people gathering for worship. Around the cabin, a few trees had been felled and cleared of their branches, and arranged so as to form seats for the little assembly; little it was, for, in accordance with the custom that obtains in the country, none of the people from the adjoining plantations were permitted to be present.

        Old Scipio could read and write, for in the days of his childhood, it was customary for slaves to be instructed.

This elevated them, and made them fitter subjects for their lordly masters. These privileges were permitted in the days of the greatest prosperity of the old dominion; why are they now denied? Since the glory has departed, has a more degenerate race arisen? And is it meet that they withhold knowledge from their slaves, lest there be not the proportioned distance preserved between master and subject, requisite to make the system perfect? Say the legislators in effect: "It was not until the servants showed that information made them more unhappy, that it was judged expedient entirely to wrest away from them the key of knowledge, and so rivet their chains more securely in the dark." For after the horrid Southampton massacre, the question whether the slaves should be allowed to learn to read and write, became a subject of legislation^*

        * This attempted apology for the enactment of laws that are worthy the dark ages only, will not do; for long anterior to the Southampton massacre, Virginia legislated to darken and dwarf the minds of her enslaved population. In 1849, she enacted the following statute:

        "That all meetings, or assemblages of slaves, or free negroes, or mulattoes, mixing or associating with such slaves at any meeting-house, or houses, or any other place, &c., in the night, or at any school or schools, for teaching them reading or writing, either in the day or night, under whatsoever pretext, shall be deemed and considered an unlawful assembly; and any justice of a county, &c., wherein such assemblage shall be, either from his own knowledge or the information of others, of such unlawful assemblage, &c., may issue his warrant directed to any sworn officer or officers, authorizing him or them to enter the house or houses where such unlawful assemblages, &c., may be, for the purpose of apprehending or dispersing such slaves, and to inflict corporal punishment on the offender or offenders, at the discretion of any justice of the peace, not exceeding twenty lashes."

less cause for insurrections, if more privileges were taken away, it being enacted that the African Virginians should not be permitted to learn to read and write.

CHAPTER II.

                         "Have we not all one Father?
                         Hath not one God created us?"

        Jamie in Scipio's cabin. Usefully employed. He commences learning to read. Surprise from the patrol. Jamie punished by the overseer.

        WHEN Jamie was about six years old, a petition was sent up to Monmouth mansion, praying that he might live with his grandfather Scipio. The request was referred to Mrs. Chadwick by "Master Charles," her husband, and the good lady quickly assented, saying that she loved to confer any favor on old Scipio, "as he was the best servant on the land." "As long as he lives," said she, "I shall know that there is somebody to pray."

        So, from this time, Jamie went to live in the cabin of Scipio. Although a ragged and forlorn object, he was very happy in his new home. He had often visited his grandfather while out on excursions in quest of food in the woods, and there was a strong attachment between them, such as often is seen between the grand-parent and grandchild. The toilsome duties of the old man's life were nearly done. His task now, in consideration

of his age and infirmities, was comparatively easy. Jamie's years of hard labor had not yet commenced, so they could well sympathize with each other. The good old man seemed, leaning his bowed form on the top of his staff, to be reaching back to childhood, and with delight, trod the same path with Jamie, instructing and guiding him day by day. Jamie made himself very useful to Scipio and Agga, as he gathered wood for the fire, and went to the spring for water. In return, the old man told him Bible stories, and gave him religious instruction.

        Thus many days passed, during which time Scipio longed greatly to commence teaching Jamie to read, for seeing him so docile, apt, and sprightly, he felt that it would be delightful to instruct him; and then he thought what a comfort it would be to him, to be able to read the good book. But in opposition to all this was the law and its severe penalty. Scipio considered, and re-considered the matter, and at last resolved to teach the boy, and brave the consequences. So one day calling Jamie from his play, he said to him, "Do you want to learn to read?" Jamie's eyes brightened; he looked at old Scipio, to see if he was in earnest, and exclaimed, "I do want to learn to read! I would die for it!" And bursting into tears, he threw himself into

his arms. Although so young, he had heard a great deal said about learning to read, and how "Massa had done forbid it on de land." As he heard old Scipio tell or read the beautiful Scripture histories, he wished to do the same; but in such fear was he, that he had not told his thoughts.

        "You shall learn to read," said old Scipio, "and have my Bible, and preach to the people when I am dead?" Then he explained to the boy the necessity of secrecy, as without it, all their plans would be vain.

        "I will be like Scipio, and preach to the farm people when he is dead," thought Jamie, and with childish eagerness, with his faculties stimulated by an inspiring motive, he began to conquer his letters. By the aid of his faithful teacher, he was soon able to spell out words in his Bible. Old Scipio was delighted. His sight was growing dim, and he was overjoyed at the thought, that in a little while, his darling Jamie would be able to read "the good book" to him. And as he wove baskets in the shade of his cabin, (the avails of which labor procured clothes and food for Jamie,) he pictured to himself the usefulness of "the child" to the people in coming years, long after he himself should be gathered to his resting-place.

        Meanwhile, Agga sat on the log in the chimney corner, quietly knitting. Summer or winter, it was all the same to her; there she would knit, knit, knit, by the day together--gazing vacantly on the fire when there was one, and on the hearth when there was not; ever muttering to herself, "Poor children gone! Agga old!"

        It was thus that the three were engaged, when one day the patrol, going the monthly rounds, to see that all was right, according to the established laws of the State and plantation, came upon them. There was no warning given; Jamie was caught Bible in hand, and Scipio in the very act of helping him spell out a word.

        "Hi! you old villyun!" exclaimed one of the patrol, "what may you be up to now? Making a saint of that young sprout; just as if he had a soul!"

        "Just as if he had a soul!" echoed another.

        "Here's for your interfaring!" said a third; and with these words, the ruffian gave the poor old man a blow with his cudgel which felled him to the earth, at which his cruel companions laughed in applause. Each one then gave Jamie a smart cuff, by way of testifying their disapprobation of his willingness to be taught, and then bidding him "Come along!" they marched off with him to the Monmouth quarter, and with a great deal of embellishment,

reported the grievous case to overseer Brazen, who immediately took, as he supposed, effectual measures to stop Jamie's learning to read. After representing to him in the strongest colors, the enormity of the crime he had committed, he told him that hanging ought to be resorted to, but as he was disposed to be merciful, he would only whip him severely this time. Then the judge, jury, executioner, all vested in the person of the overseer, proceeded to take summary vengeance for the broken laws of the State, by applying the ever-at-hand cow-hide to the naked back and shoulders of the poor child. The inhuman being said that he administered his whip thoroughly, so that "he done^*

        * A common mode of expression among ignorant southern people.

        The patrol represented to Brazen that they had punished old Scipio sufficiently; indeed, for aught they

knew, they had killed him. Jamie, moaning piteously, was just able to crawl to his old home. Jinny, his mother, dressed his wounds, and held him in her arms through the first weary night of his sufferings.

CHAPTER III.

        "Am I not a man and a brother?"

                         "My country--'tis o'er thee,
                         Dark land of slavery,
                         O'er thee I weep.
                         Land, proud of Freedom's name!
                         Land, cursed with slavery's shame!
                         Thy boastings loud proclaim
                         Thy guilt most deep."

        Agga restores Scipio. He goes to the quarter for Jamie. Overseer Brazen's management. Decline of Scipio. Mrs. Chadwick's visit. A triumphant death.

        OLD Scipio, stunned by the blow from the patrol, remained unconscious for some time, notwithstanding the efforts of Agga; for aroused from her apathy by the rough voices of the patrol, she raised her dim eyes from the hearth just as he fell. The scene, in its turmoil and uproar, was not unlike that of years gone by, when two of her children were torn from her cabin, and it was doubtless this association that roused her. She had no clear idea of what was going on, but tottered to the door, bent almost double as she was, moaning as usual, "Poor children gone! Agga old! Children gone! Agga old!" She saw that Scipio did not move, for a ray of reason dawned in her mind, that she might

exert herself to restore him. She moaned as she reentered the door, "children gone! Agga old!" took the gourd, and filling it with water from the pail which always stood in the corner by the door, tottered back, and with her trembling hand, bathed the brow of Scipio, who drew a deep groan, and began to be conscious. Agga mechanically resumed her knitting in the chimney corner, and moaned on, as if nothing had happened to interrupt her monotonous occupation. Scipio gradually recovered; his scattered senses returning by little and little. Committing himself and his cause to his Father, he felt peaceful and happy. A sweet consciousness of the approbation of Him who looketh on the heart, filled his soul; he felt that it was right to persist in teaching his darling boy, and this settled, he resolved, come life or death, to go forward in the work.

        At length when he was able, with the aid of his staff, he slowly picked his way to the quarter for Jamie. While returning, the two often sat down to rest by the way, for they were very weak and sore. Scipio told Jamie of the sufferings of the Saviour, and how He felt for His poor suffering children, and then charged him to love the Lord with all his heart. "That I will!" said the child with tears in his eyes, "and I would die to read about Him." So effectual was the punishment

of the overseer! Scipio replied, "Then you shall learn, for I would die for it!"

        Meanwhile Brazen, thinking that he had put a stop to the plan of Jamie's learning to read, was congratulating himself on his talent at disposing of subjects tending to the detriment of the general good, alias, his master's interests.

        "Slaves is mighty deep sometimes," said he to Mrs. Brazen, as he expatiated on the case of our poor little hero, "but turn every which way an I is a little deeper!" alluding to his success in the management of the people over whom he presided. He thought he had settled the matter, still he judged it best to charge the patrol to be vigilant and see that the reading went no further. Scipio and Jamie were on the alert, lest they should again be surprised and the Bible seized; this last was a great source of solicitude, as there were not half a dozen copies on the plantation, and none to replace theirs should it be taken away. The patrol were regular in their monthly rounds; sometimes, however, coming upon them in the shade of evening, and at other times early in the day. Still Jamie rapidly progressed in reading, and was so fortunate as to elude detection.

        Scipio now became daily more and more infirm. As he was almost blind, it was a great source of comfort

to have the Bible read to him. He could no longer go to distant parts of the forest, to gather the herd of which he had charge, so that this occupation devolved on Jamie, although only about seven years old. Day by day the good old man rapidly declined. He was like a shock of corn ripe for the reaper, and it was plain that he would soon be taken away.

        Mrs. Chadwick, hearing of his state, hastened to his abode. It was a bright autumn evening. The forest was bedecked in a gay robe of purple, gold, and crimson. The leaves were blooming in beauty as they decayed. The sun had not yet passed beyond the gates of the west, and the breezes which had been out on duty all day, bearing autumn-perfumes, went to sleep, as he prepared to take his departure, by gilding the clouds with radiant glory-hues. Her path was carpeted with brilliantly-painted leaves, and the forest seemed a superb pillared palace, hung with glowing tapestry. But her heart was saddened with the thought, that this lighting up of Summer's beautiful colors, was but the index of death and decay

                         "How tenderly doth nature throw
                         Her parting smile on all below,
                         A mournful beauty that endears,
                         'Mid all of death, decay and tears."

        As she reached the cabin, the sun had set. The aged

disciple lay on his rude bed of straw, with an Indian blanket thrown lightly over him. Jamie sat by his bedside reading to him, but was so engrossed that he did not notice her approach. She stood without by the door and listened while he read the Psalm, commencing, "The Lord is my shepherd." The reading finished, Scipio, with his hands clasped, repeated the fourth verse, "Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me: thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me."

        She quietly entered, and Jamie quickly attempted to hide his Bible beneath the blanket; but by signs she gave him to understand that he had nothing to fear. Agga, still nearly unconscious of all that was passing, continued to sit in her corner, uttering, almost inaudibly, "Children gone! Agga old!" in the same pathetic, soul-melting way as ever. Blind Scipio was not sensible of Mrs. Chadwick's presence. She felt that she was in the house of death, and would not disturb the good man in his passing hence. He was very joyful in view of the glorious scenery of heaven seemingly before him, and had few thoughts for earth. Those concerned little Jamie, broken-hearted Agga, and the slave-people. He offered a prayer for each, and all of them, and his spirit was gone to God who gave it.

Jamie, seeing that his dearest earthly friend was no more, with an overwhelming view of his loss, raised a piercing cry of sorrow. Accustomed to uninterrupted quiet, Agga was once again aroused from her lethargy, and came to the bedside. A gleam of reason for a moment lightened up her darkened mind; she knew that Scipio was dead. As the truth burst upon her, she screamed in heart-rending agony and fell lifeless by his side. Slavery had not been permitted to "put them asunder," and death might not divide them.

CHAPTER IV.

                         "I was not born a little slave,
                         To labor in the sun,
                         And wish that I were in my grave
                         And all my labor done."

        Jamie a field-laborer. A responsible character. The foreman. Jinny. Foreman Ned. The field-hands hoeing corn. Aunt Mag and her bakery. The field breakfast. Plantation hours.

        A NEW era now commenced in the life of Jamie. His mistress took him up to Monmouth House and treated him very kindly. She told him that he might keep Scipio's Bible, but that it must be out of sight and as secret as possible, lest it make trouble with the other servants, who could not read. "If I had my way," said she, "every one on the land should learn to read and write, and as it is, I shall teach all the house-servants who will learn." It was her wish to have Jamie in the house for the present, as a waiter, and when older, to be employed as a dining-room servant, to wait at the table, &c. However, as he gave promise of being hale and stout, and consequently valuable as a field-laborer, this plan of his mistress was over-ruled by his master, who went for the "main chance," and thought it best for him to go to work with the farm-people, while some

one less robust might be selected for the vacant situation in the house. So when the child was eight years old, he was sent down to the "quarter," about a mile distant; the overseer being instructed to see that he was well employed. Accordingly that personage forth with put him under the care of Ned, the "foreman of plows and hoes," ordering him to get as much work out of Jamie as possible.

        The foreman on a Virginia plantation is quite a responsible character. One of the most trusty, strong, and "likely" of the slaves, is selected for this office, and if he proves himself well-qualified, is permitted to keep the situation for life, or rather till worn out, and laid aside, like an old garment, labeled in the inventory "old and useless." In season of plowing, it is his business to lead. In hoeing, he takes the "fore-row," and sees that all the people that work with him "keep up." If they loiter, he is authorized to whip them, or give information to the overseer, who can administer the punishment more thoroughly at the whipping-post. The same person is "foreman of cradles" in harvesting. He is styled, "foreman of plows and hoes," but he is the "boss" of the plantation, and is expected to go ahead in all kinds of work.

        It will be seen, that the amount of labor performed,

depends very much on the foreman. If he is "first-rate," he works the people hard, but if he is "easy" and fond of "resting on his hoe," they have a comfortable time of it, when the overseer is out of sight. The foreman, of course, feels his importance; considers himself on a par with the aristocracy of his race, i. e. the house-servants. He is looked up to by the people of the quarter as a slave of consequence. They find it for their advantage to keep in his good graces, as in that case, they are less likely to be reported to the overseer for slight offenses. A little power with a slave, is a dangerous thing; a tool he little knows how to use. A foreman has the power of making the people work, by working himself, and often, for the mere love of exercising this power, will work beyond his strength. The men and women who labor with him, through fear, seldom need much force to make them do the cruel task thus assigned them. It is the youngsters, who are not "broken in," that hang back and require the whip. They young field-hands, being unaccustomed to the yoke of patiently enduring hard toil--and working simply because they must, (although they know that this is the only way of drawing "'lowance," or rations,) work just as little as they can. So it is thought necessary to "train them in," as refractory colts are broken

to the harness, or young cattle to the yoke, at the North. The field women are generally required to follow on, as well as the men; and if they are perverse, are treated with the same severity. The overseer urges on the foreman, who urges on the people, who hang back all they dare.

        Foreman Ned, before mentioned, was sufficiently consequential. He received Brazen's order to keep Jamie at work, with an amusing mixture of pomposity and deference.

        "Certainly, Massa Brazen!" said he, with a profound bow. It was evening, and no work was required of Jamie that day, but Ned told him, with a patronizing air, that he must start in the morning with the people for the field. The child went to the scanty hovel of his father John, fearing, he scarcely knew what, on the morrow. He was glad, too, to nestle down in the straw with dear little Tray and Kitt. But Judy and Rose were missed from the little one-room cabin, as the mistress sometime before, took them to the house, and they were already quite accomplished in their capacity of serving. Jamie had a strong affection for his father and mother, and yet they had done comparatively little to call forth his love. Jinny had little of Scipio's resigned, tranquil spirit. She could not submit with

meekness to her situation. It galled her that she must work in the field. She was discontented, and the watchful overseer would often say, that "she made more trouble by her sour looks and bitter speeches, than any other woman on the plantation." He regarded her with an evil eye, and would gladly have taken occasion to bring her to punishment for delinquency, but no such occasion was to be found. She regularly left her little children to "keep house" at the cabin, and performed her work in the field, hot or cold, rain or shine, sick or well. Yet there was a sullen frown on her swarthy brow, and she groaned oftener than she spoke. Brazen was vexed that she did not look cheerful. He feared that the discontent would spread, and the result be that some would escape from bondage. We shall see.

        Saturday morning, memorable in the life of Jamie, as commencing his field-labor, dawned bright and clear. After awakening, he had scarcely time to throw on his clothes, when he heard some one calling at the top of his voice, "Halloa! get up! Halloa!" Running to the door, he saw "foreman Ned," standing at the entrance of his cabin, in the center of the quarter, calling the laborers up, to go to work. Quickly the people were ready, and proceeded to the field, John, Jinny, and Jamie, being in company. Each one, before starting, took a

lunch of cold ash-pones, left of yesterday's meal, and a bit of meat, if they chanced to have it, otherwise they would naturally get hungry before breakfast, which was not until twelve o'clock! The work for the day was hoeing corn. Jamie had his place assigned in the row with youngsters, some older than himself, who had undergone the process of "breaking in." Foreman Ned told him that he must work "right smart, and keep up," or be whipped; and then started his own row with the laborers. The child tried to do his best, and while it was cool, he succeeded very well. Directly, however, the sun grew hot, and as he had been more accustomed to the shade of the woods, than the exposure of the open fields, he suffered much in attempting to perform his task. About ten o'clock, the boy whose work it was to "tote^*

        * "Tote," means to carry.

to go to their cabins to eat this meal, for this would take too much time, and might add to their fatigue. Breakfast was therefore brought to them. It consisted of ash pones, with a small quantity of meat.

        There was an aged woman, called familiarly, Aunt Mag, who was too "old and useless" to work in the field; therefore, she was permitted to retire from business and only have charge of the bakery for the people. The women working in the field, of course had no time to attend to baking their bread.

        The matter was arranged thus. All the people that labored in the field, men, women and children, each carried daily to Aunt Mag about a pint of meal, mixed with water and salt, if they had it, if not, they did as well as they could without. Each one mixed his portion himself, in his own dish, to guard against any fraud; for, as food is none too abundant with them, they are sometimes suspicious of each other. If the meal is mixed and carried to the baker by the owner, there is no possibility of losing any part of it, as each one has a particular mark for his pone.

        Aunt Mag's bakery is an ordinary one-room cabin, only the fire-place is larger, extending quite across one side, and is furnished with a brick hearth. This old woman is as neat as the neatest, and has her own considerate

way of putting things to rights. She certainly deserves a great deal of credit for her skill in doing her work. As each laborer has a mark for his pone, after she has flattened out the dough, she impresses this mark on it, so that the owner may claim it when it reaches the field. One man's mark is a hole made in his bread; another's is two holes, &c. One has a cross; another a double cross; the mark of each individual being perfectly understood by the baker and himself. The brick hearth being hot, Aunt Mag lays the numerous pones, duly identified, thereon, in something of a semi-circle around the good fire. Sometimes she buries them in the ashes, a much approved way of cooking them, and hence the name "ash pones."

        How patient is the good old woman! There she is, every hot summer day by the fire, turning the corn-cakes. Bent almost double, she need not stoop much to reach them, and when they are done, which is generally about eleven o'clock, she puts them in the bread basket ready for Tony to "tote" to the people. If any one has any meat she carefully cooks it, and places it on his pone.

        Having made this explanation, we will return to the corn-field, for it is breakfast time. The sun is directly over head, pouring down his furnace rays as if to wither

the earth. The laborers with foreman Ned, have reached the end of the row, and stopping to rest on their hoes, they see at the extremity of the field, the boy with the basket of bread on his head. Ned and his company raise a "halloa!" designed to hasten the coming of Tony. The foreman then turns to his followers, and with some spicing of authority says, "No more work till done eat breakfast!" This announcement is received with smiles, nods and murmurs of applause. The people seat themselves on the grass bordering the corn, in the sun, to wait the slow pace of Tony, while Jinny goes to finish Jamie's row and release him, saying, "It is right smart hard for him to work, such an infant baby as he is too!" (John would go but Jinny thinks of it first.) She is soon by the youngster's row, and tells Jamie to go and rest. The poor child, ready to fall through fatigue, gives her his hoe, and slowly moves toward the party who are resting themselves on the grass in the sun. The youngsters and Jinny strain every nerve, and finish the row just as Tony comes with the bread, for he was never known to be in haste. Ned observed that "he was right smart slower than a snail." Another said, "turn every which way and you could not find nothing so tochally slow! de stand-still creek moved right smart

faster!" "What would you do if I did not tote it at all?" muttered Tony to himself. He now put down the basket and with the assistance of Ned, distributed the bread to the people, every man, woman, and child, taking the pone on which was his or her mark. As Jamie had not been working in the field, and consequently had not drawn his "allowance" of food, there was no pone for him, but John and Jinny gave him a part of theirs, and besides this, many offered to share with him, their eager hungry looks meanwhile contradicting their words. Seated as we have said, the poor people par took of their humble repast with nothing but hunger to make it relish. Meanwhile Tony goes for more water.

        The meal finished, foreman Ned being in a lazy mood, proposes to the people that they wait for the water before they go to work. But fearing they might be surprised inactive, he sends one of the boys "around the corner of the field" to see if overseer Brazen is in sight. The boy returns with the intelligence, "dat dere be one man on horseback coming down de road like Massa Brazen." "To hoes!" said Ned, in a low, but emphatic tone, and directly all hands were hard at work, as if the overseer's eye were on them The man on horseback proved to be only a traveler, and Ned took

occasion to give the boy a blow for his innocent mistake.

        At last the day passed, as all weary days do, lingering and loitering on its way. The laborers rejoiced to see the setting sun, although then their work was not done. "From sunrise to twilight," were the hours of labor on this plantation, and none were permitted to go to their cabin during this time, except the mothers of very young children, who were allowed to visit them twice during the day, for a few moments only. Children of six, seven, and eight years old were the nurses for the babes while their mothers were in the field.

        Twilight came, and the toil-worn laborers returned to their cabins, not like free happy peasants, to be greeted at their doors with the smiling faces of those to whom their labor had brought comfort and happiness, but heart-sick they entered unwelcomed their dreary abodes of squalid poverty, which no efforts of their can hope to make better. In the sweat of their brows, others eat bread, and so the curse falls doubly on them.

        John and Jinny were silent and sad, and Jamie was too tired to play with Kitt and Tray, who had been to the woods for berries. As only a few fragments remained of the breakfast, the family were obliged to go to bed almost supperless.

CHAPTER V.

        "We are verily guilty concerning our brother."

        'Lowance Sunday. The key-basket. Mrs. Dorothy. Jamie's Bible returned. Slave John's escape. Malice of Brazen. Kindness of Mrs. Chadwick. Tray. Sick Kitt. Spinning Jinny. The overseer reprimanded. Jinny's task.

        THE next day was Sunday, and foreman Ned did not stand in the door of his cabin and call the people to work as on other mornings. All in the little hamlet slept until the sun was high in the heavens, for the day of rest was a welcome day to them. At length about nine o'clock, some were stirring. The men and boys, and some of the women, taking their customary lunch, went up to Monmouth House, for this was "'lowance Sunday" as they termed it, being the fourth Sunday in the month.

        On some plantations where there is sufficient religious principle, the people's rations are given out for the month on Saturday afternoon. At Monmouth it was the custom, handed down from lordly ancestors, to have this work done every fourth Sunday morning, the people not being spared from their work to come on Saturday, to receive their portion of food. There were

three farms, dependencies of Monmouth; each had its quarters, the people of which regularly presented themselves for rations. Numbering the laborers of the three farms and the house-servants, there were about one hundred and fifty to be fed; and all their supplies must come from head-quarters at Monmouth.

        Laboring men were entitled to a peck and a half of meal per week, women one peck, and children one half peck. A piece of meat that would suffice for ordinary meals, two days, was the month's allowance.

        As Jamie had commenced field work, he went up to "the house" for his share of food, besides he wished to get his Bible from his kind mistress, with whom he left it, and petition for a new suit of clothes, as those given him by old Scipio were only rags.

        Ten o'clock of this lovely Sabbath morning, and the wing of Monmouth, in which the store-room was situated, was thronged. A hive of one hundred slaves had come to receive their wages, daily bread. It was a new scene to Jamie, and timidly he clung to his mother's side. The housekeeper, a white person, soon made her appearance, and with the assistance of slave Bill, the gardener, began to measure out the food. You may know Mrs. Dorothy the South over, for she always has in her hand the key-basket, at once the insignia of her

office and certificate of her trust worthy character. In it you may see keys of all ages, sizes and descriptions, from the ponderous rusty key that opens the wine cellar, to the small polished one that keeps safe the work-stand; there they are, always jingling, as the house-keeper is moving. The basket is almost constantly in her hand, she scarcely sets it down when she eats. She mislays her handkerchief, loses her thimble, and spectacles, but it has never been recorded of her, that she for one moment forgot her key-basket, and thus tempted the servants around her to steal! And mark the diligent precaution observed by the careful body at night, when she takes the keys out of the basket, locks them in the upper drawer of the bureau, and putting that key of keys, the key to the whole establishment, under her pillow, is sure that all is safe.

        Well, as before named, gardener Bill and Mrs. Dorothy brought from the store-room the rations of the people. Mrs. Dorothy prided herself on knowing "every servant on the land," and especially felt her importance every fourth Sunday morning, "allowance day" in the slave's calendar. She flew nimbly about, her tongue running smoothly, and the keys jingling to keep time. Her word was law among those before her, unless, indeed, as was often the case, higher authority, as the

master or mistress, chanced to be present. The portions were given out, and the key-bearer said, "As fast as you get your 'lowance, you may go." Still a great number remained, for this was the time appointed for the farm people to ask any favor, and sometimes it seemed as if they would never "be done." There were women that wanted "mistress" old dresses that were laid aside, and boys that spent the day before picking blackberries, who had brought them now to exchange for molasses. Men were there who had been permitted to keep poultry, and who had brought their chickens to exchange for luxuries, or what were considered so by them, in their lowly lot. In short, as Mrs. Dorothy expressed it, "we have right smart of trade there you may depend."

        When the portioning was over, the people returned to their respective quarters, laden with the next month's provisions. Jamie lingered behind and asked the house-keeper if he might speak to mistress.

        "Dear me child, no! Why should you disturb your mistress? I can do any thing for you that mistress can." The child did not reply, but still lingered; this of course tried the patience of Mrs. Dorothy. "You can't see your mistress to-day, so get away with you!" Jamie recollected how old Scipio had mourned over

"allowance Sunday," and now he wished more than ever to get back his Bible, so that he might spend the remainder of the day in reading it. He knew where his mistress' room was, so he cautiously entered that part of the building, and gently knocked at the door. Rose herself opened it, and the mistress seeing him, spoke kindly and told him to come in.

        "What do you want, Jamie?" said she. "My Bible," said Jamie. "Rose," said the lady, "get Jamie's Bible for him; there, run home, I'll talk with you another time." The boy, with his Bible and allowance, accordingly made his way back to the quarter.

        Two months from the death of Scipio and Agga, had passed, when overseer Brazen discovered that Jamie had a Bible and was guilty of reading it, notwithstanding his prohibition. He was quite indignant at this, and yet he feared to punish Jamie again, lest he should be unfitted for the hard labor assigned him. He thought of an expedient, however; he caused John and Jinny to be whipped in his stead, alleging that they knew that reading was forbidden. John was an upright straight-forward character, and had heretofore succeeded in keeping on good terms with the overseer and foreman, and consequently with his master. He could ill brook such treatment, and conferring with Jinny, decided

to attempt escape; "John," said she "follow that star," pointing to the north star, "live with the free people, get free cabin, free home, and one by one we will come." So one tempestuous night, after kissing the three sleeping boys, and tenderly embracing his wife, the poor man took his flight. The thunder, lightning, and rain, took away from him all fear of patrol and pursuers. The morning came, and when assembled in the field, it was discovered that John was absent. Jinny had nothing to communicate respecting him; she could not tell where he was, very truly. Immediate search was made for the deserter. Many years had passed since such an occurrence on Monmouth plantation, and a great commotion was raised as Brazen raged furiously, when the runaway was not found by any means which he had devised. It was in vain they sought for him, he had fled like a frightened deer in the midst of the storm; and when the morning dawned he found, many miles away from his cabin, a safe hiding-place for the day, in the thick branches of a pine, upturned by the tempest, until he could again resume his journey. And while he went on under the guardian wing of night, guided by the star of freedom, rejoicing in the hope of reaching a free country, his master mourned his loss, even as the loss of eight hundred dollars!

        Jamie found that reading the Bible could only be done by stealth. Therefore, it was never taken from its hiding-place in the loose clay between the logs, except in the twilight of morning, or in the quiet night, when by a pine knot he would read many a comforting passage to his mother.

        The idea that Jamie could read, was like gall and wormwood to the overseer. As he himself could not read, he felt envious toward those that could, and the thought that one inferior was superior to him in knowledge, was insupportable. Besides, the discontented looks of the mother had long incensed him, more especially since the father had escaped, and he longed for an excuse to wreak his smothered vengeance on this inoffensive family. And while one long year passed away, Jamie and his mother were punished several times for alleged offenses, but really on the score of the ill-will of that malicious Brazen. Still he was not satisfied, but became more and more embittered against them. He determined to inflict the greatest punishment he could devise, which was to have them sold, in which case they would be separated. Now the problem with Brazen was, how to get a pretext sufficient to accomplish it. About this time the patrol were going the rounds, and he gave them strict charge to

watch closely Jinny's cabin. Accordingly two men crept stealthily under the window, soon after which Jamie, unconscious of danger, lighted a pine knot, took his Bible from its hiding-place, and sitting down with his mother and little brothers, proceeded to read. The patrol waited while he read one chapter, so that they might have the more to accuse him of, and then like bandits they burst into the cabin and taking him, Bible in hand, hurried him to Brazen. "You rascal villyun!" said he, brandishing his whip, and grinding his teeth, "you have not had enough yet, I see!" then he gave him the customary chastisement, the details of which are too painful to be described. The poor suffering child crawled back to his mother, who dressed his wounds as well as she could, and prayed that he might be free. Tray and Kitt continued to sob, for they fell to crying when Jamie was taken by the patrol. And while Jamie was groaning with pain, his mother instilled into his mind a strong desire to escape from bondage.

        There, on his pallet of straw, with his wounds throbbing with anguish, Jamie resolved to throw off the chain, but, with a consideration unusual in his years, he would wait till his little brothers were old enough to escape with him. Judy and Rose were maids to the

Monmouth young ladies, Pocahontas and Virginia, and so inconsiderable was the intercourse of the separated family, that there was little hope remaining in Jinny's heart that she should be able to effect her project of getting all her children to the "free country." Still a glimmering would at times lighten the darkness of her fears, that some of them would yet be free, and it was this that strengthened her to toil on.

        As an additional punishment for reading the Bible, the overseer kept the book. Besides this, he entered a complaint with the master, saying that "Jamie was the most troublesomest servant on the plantation;" adding that if he wished "to keep his people from running away, he must sell him, for he is always in some mischief, right smart troublesome, is reading his Bible, and making every body uncontented; and its my mind that he ought to be sold out of the way."

        The master might have yielded to the solicitation of the overseer, had not the mistress interfered. "It is so cruel to sell servants," said she, "that I have hoped we should never be obliged to resort to it. Please you remember good old Scipio! How the old man prayed for us, and Jamie may be like him!"

        "To be sure! to be sure!" and turning to the overseer who stood expectant by, with the never-absent cow-hide

in hand, Mr. Chadwick said, "It is our wish that the servants should not be sold." At this, Brazen, obsequiously asking if there were any orders for him, took his leave, crest-fallen at his want of success.

        Jamie, knowing well that his mistress was disposed to be very kind to him, planned from time to time to appeal to her about his Bible. Almost a year passed away thus; for although he went every month for "allowance," yet so much did he dread the overseer's anger, that he forbore to petition Mrs. Chadwick to interfere in the matter. The boy had enjoyed some glimpses of peace, happiness, and comparative freedom during the life of Scipio, and now the contrast was hard to be borne. It was grievous to him who had so few sources of enjoyment, to be deprived of the principal one; but so it must be. He wept and prayed that the last gift of old Scipio might be restored to him, and resolved to make an effort to get it back, if it cost him his life.

        Tray was now old enough to work in the field, and had an introduction to his labor, similar to Jamie's, as before described. Little Kitt, now five years old, was left by himself in the cabin, day by day. He was a feeble, diminutive child, and needed much tender attention. Having no one to divert or take care of him, he

gradually declined. Every night, as his mother returned dusty and weary from the field, she would take him in her arms, and after trying to persuade him to eat some of the morsels she so carefully saved for him, would soothe him to sleep; but he moaned and grew weaker every day, and she said to Jamie, that she "almost prayed the Father to take him. If he lives, how can he get to the free country, and he had better die than stay here!"

        At length little Kitt was so sick that his mother could not leave him, and the overseer finding she was absent from the field, prepared to make her suffer for it; but it providentially happened that the mistress that day paid her annual visit to the quarter, to see a little to the condition of the people, and finding how matters stood, she approved of Jinny's absenting herself from the field; so Brazen found it for his interest to be silent. Jinny told her mistress her solicitude about little Kitt, and how necessary it was for her to stay with him.

        "Yes," said Mrs. Chadwick, one thing is certain, Kitt must be taken care of. I have a plan! you shall be my spinning Jinny. You may come up to Monmouth, and I will give you your task with "the spinners and weavers for the people." You shall have a wheel and loom in your cabin, and work no more in the

field, for I see clearly, unless first-rate care is taken of the little fellow, he will die; or at least be good-for-nothing. You are a good nurse, I dare say, and any thing you want for him, you shall have by coming to me.

        Knowing that "the mistress" was at the quarter, Jamie got leave to run home, while the laborers were at breakfast, and ask how Kitt was; but his main errand was respecting his Bible. "Bless my life, child! and where is your Bible?" exclaimed the lady. Jinny then explained the course of the overseer, and how the Bible was taken away. "You do well to tell me," said Mrs. C.; and then saying something to herself about taking Brazen to task for abusing her servants, she arose to go. "Remember," said she to Jinny, "remember to come up to Monmouth, Monday week, when I give out cotton to the spinners." In a glittering carriage, drawn by gay, beautiful horses, she was borne back to her splendid mansion--with a mind at ease, think you? Was there not a spoiler of her peace?

        Mrs. Chadwick whirled home in her carriage, comforting herself that she had gone through with the penance of visiting all the cabins at the quarter, adjusting matters as well as they could be adjusted in the nature of things. She found overseer Brazen at Monmouth,

transacting business with her husband, and made him understand directly that she was not pleased with his treatment of Jamie. Said she, "I've no idea of having my servants abused, that I have not! Mark me, Mr. Brazen, that Bible must be returned to Jamie forthwith; and he has my permission to read it." Mr. Brazen wished himself of size reduced, that he might retire unobserved through the key-hole, while Mr. Chadwick, evidently pleased at the spirit and energy of the lady, told the confounded knight of the cow-hide, to do as she had said. He assented; and as the business was finished, in deep mortification, mounted his horse and rode slowly homeward, resolving, if the thing could be done, to effect the sale of Jamie, Tray and Kitt, as he judged that this would most agonize the mother; for, in addition to other causes of his ill-will, before-mentioned, he now accused her, in his own mind, of complaining of his treatment of Jamie. But he found it expedient to smother his hate for a more favorable time, when it might freely burst into flame.

        Kitt now had a regular course of fever, yet his mother went for the cotton, as directed, and procured from her mistress sundry things that he needed for his comfort. The spinning-wheel was brought, and she commenced her task, which was to spin two pounds of cotton per

week, besides taking care of little Kitt. His fever raged higher and higher, and Jinny became so alarmed about him, that one rainy day she despatched Jamie to his mistress to ask if she might have a doctor?

        "Certainly!" replied Mr. Chadwick, "certainly! it is a pity to lose the boy, he'll be wanted in the field by and by."

        He then directed him where to go to find the physician of the neighborhood. The doctor gave Jamie some medicine for Kitt, which, with Jinny's careful nursing, was the means, under Providence, of his recovery. Jinny's troubles were not over; he continued feeble a long time, and needed much more attention than her task would allow her to give him. She had learned to spin when young, but was not familiar enough with a wheel to make easy work of what she was required to do. Had she been free, could she have felt that her daily toil was making her husband and children more comfortable and happy, then, indeed, it would have been accomplished easily, with an elastic step and buoyant heart. It was not so now. Jinny's step was slow and languid, for hope was nearly extinct in her heart, and her task was a burden. Yet she would not complain, for this was "no comparison better than to leave her little boy, and go into the field."

        There was a day of rejoicing to the inmates of that cabin, when the overseer gave Jamie back his Bible, although it was a cruel threat that he should "remember and serve 'em right yet!"

CHAPTER VI

                         "Year after year of bondage,
                         The self-same story told."

        Mrs. Chadwick and daughters go North. Overseer Brazen's wife. Two turkeys missing. Brazen and Ned's conspiracy. Mrs. Brazen a literary character.

        YEARS passed away, in which nothing worthy of note, differing essentially from that which we have recorded, occurred. Jamie and Tray had grown up to manhood. Kitt had recovered, and was able to work in the field; and Jinny had made herself so useful with her wheel and loom, that it was thought best at Monmouth to keep her thus employed.

        About this time, Mrs. Chadwick made a tour North, taking with her, her daughters, the Misses Pocahontas and Virginia, with their maids, Judy and Rose. They were to visit Niagara in company with southern friends, and then go to Saratoga, and spend the summer.

        Overseer Brazen's wife was a notable manager. Besides making a great quantity of butter to sell, from their two cows, she kept a large poultry yard, with the proceeds of which, during ten long years, she had kept her husband's purse well lined, as she expressed it, "had kept their nest well feathered." It happened that some

of the residents at the quarter, thinking that ash-pones were poor living, stole two of Mrs. Brazen's fat turkeys. The next morning, while her cook was getting breakfast, the overseer's lady, as usual, went out to count and feed her turkeys, and directly found them minus two. The alarm was given by Mrs. Brazen to her husband, by running in and putting the house in commotion, and instituting a search. The overseer himself searched every cabin at the quarter to gain a clue, if possible, of the fate of the missing poultry. He looked in vain, found nothing that threw the least light upon the subject, until he came to foreman Ned's cabin. There, among the high rank weeds that surrounded it, his eagle-eyes actually saw feathers, which he identified as belonging to his wife's turkeys.

        "Now," thought Brazen, "this is just as I'd have it!" But not a word was said about the discovery until Ned came from his work at night-fall, when, as he was about to enter his cabin, the overseer astounded him by putting his hand upon his shoulder.

        "Ned!" said he, eyeing him sternly. "Massa, Massa Brazen!" stammered Ned, trembling from head to foot.

        "Ned!" continued he, "jest look into the weeds with me, will you?"

        "Massa Brazen," replied Ned, desperately composed, "what you mean, massa Brazen?"

        "Ned," said the overseer, slowly and sternly, "you done stole Mrs. Brazen's Christmas turkeys!"

        "Not I, massa! I hold myself 'sponsible to prove that I never done stole de turkeys, by right smart proof!" said the foreman, tremblingly trying to gain time.

        "Ned, it's useless to talk with me! I am an old fox! I've found you out! you stole the turkeys, you sat up last night with some of the people to eat 'em up, and now I shall tie you to the whipping-post, and cow-hide you within an inch of your life!"

        "Oh, massa Brazen!" implored Ned, falling on his knees, "Mercy!"

        "I will have justice done!" responded the injured man.

        "Oh massa Brazen!" pleaded Ned, "save me de whipping, and I'll make baskets for you every night of my life!"

        "You deserve to die, Ned, to be sure!" said the overseer, more coldly, "but there is one way by which you can avoid it."

        Ned looked up inquiringly.

        "If you will prove that Jamie, Tray and Kitt, stole Mrs. Brazen's turkeys, I'll forgive you."

        "Sartain, massa Brazen. I have only to done put de feathers which dey leff at my cabin, at dere door," said Ned, taking the overseer's hint, and falling into it with all the cunning of his nature; continued he, "I will swear 'spressly dat I seed 'um take dem two turkeys from off de peaceable roost; is dat what you want?'

        "Exactly, Ned," said cow-hide, "now, get up, and see that you stick to it, that you saw Jamie, Tray and Kitt, steal Mrs. Brazen's Christmas turkeys."

        "Dat I will most amiable!" said Ned, delighted to escape a whipping by any means.

        "Now, Ned, after you have scattered bones and feathers around Jinny's cabin, come right to 'Brazen Hall,' (the new name of his little snug domicil,) and take my commands to Monmouth."

        With these words Brazen and Ned parted, the former going home to tell his wife that he had found the thieves to be Jamie, Tray and Kitt, and that he wished her to write to that effect to Mr. Chadwick; for as we have mentioned, he could neither read nor write.

        "Do tell! you don't say so, Mr. Brazen!" exclaimed the fat lady, "well, I never! dem is de cunningest servants, I muss say!"

        "Deep as the creek! the villyuns!" echoed the overseer,

meanwhile industriously beating his boot with his whip.

        "Well, as you say," replied his wife, after a long talk about the matter, "I muss lose no time in writing it all down to Mr. Chadwick."

        Saying this, the old lady, for she was some twenty years the senior of her husband, who had become at tached to her for the sake of her one thousand dollars, which he set down as a prize worth more than the incumbrance by which it was accompanied, looked for her spectacles, then for an old goose-quill, with which she had written for several years, the tea-cup that served as ink-stand, and the blank leaf torn some time previously from Jamie's Bible. These materials gathered, this interesting lady composed herself into the following note:

CHAPTER VII.
THE DECISION.

        Letter from the North. Loss of Judy and Rose. Efforts to take them. Their worth. Mrs. Chadwick afflicted. Want of money.

        THURSDAY evening's mail brought as usual a bundle of letters and papers for Monmouth. Among them was a letter from Mrs. Chadwick, which read as follows:

SARATOGA, N. Y. July 15, 18--.

        DEAR CHARLES:--How shall I tell you what has happened? I have reason to fear that Judy and Rose have left us, as they have not been seen for two days. Wednesday night the girls and myself attended a splendid party given by Gen.--, (a description of which, had we not met with such a misfortune in the loss of our servants, would have been the subject of this letter, but now I have no heart to mention it.) When we returned to our rooms from the party, we did not find the maids awaiting us as usual. As there were quite a number of chamber-maids about the establishment, I thought they must be loitering with them, although I had forbidden it entirely. I rang the bell and desired the waiter to send Judy and Rose to me directly; he returned in a few moments saying that they were not to be found in the house. I was alarmed, and knew not what to do, but slipped a five-dollar bill into his hand and directed him to find them before he returned. Pocahontas and Virginia, wearied to death, threw themselves on their beds without undressing, and thus they slept the whole of that blessed night.

        I did not then feel much alarmed about the servants' escaping. I never borrow trouble, and I set my heart at rest, thinking they were tired waiting for us, and forgetting themselves had fallen asleep in some part of the house, where they were overlooked. I doubted not they would be in waiting, to assist us to dress in the morning, but it did not turn out so.

        At eight o'clock, just as I awoke, I heard a knock at the door, and the waiter's voice saying, "Madam Chadwick, your servants can not be found!"

        "They must be found!" I exclaimed, and making my toilet with all possible despatch, I was actually down stairs, before nine o'clock, taking measures to send after the supposed runaways. The proprietor of our boarding-house said they had doubtless started for Canada; and if that is the case thought I, it is useless to pursue them. Now I think of it, I do recollect when we were returning from Niagara, seeing a person that much resembled our John, but then it could not have been he, he can not be changed so much; for all the world he had the air of a free white man. Whoever he was, he had something to say to Judy and Rose, and when I talked with them about it, they appeared indignant that he had noticed them. I thought no more of it until Tuesday last, when I saw the same duplicate of John passing the hotel.

        I accordingly cautioned Judy and Rose to keep near us in our rooms, and so avoid him, which they seemed ready to do. Yet it is not impossible that this was their father John, who may have allured them to Canada.

        I wrote an advertisement offering two hundred dollars reward for their apprehension; but Gen.--, whom I consulted, said it was useless to advertise in this free country, so I laid it aside.

        I sometimes fear this loss of the servants has come upon me for having so often, when tried with them, wished them in Africa. I never wished them in Canada, I am sure.

        Although much fatigued by the trial and excitement consequent on the eloping of the maids, my health is tolerably good. Our physicians

say that Congress water will have the effect of restoring Pocahontas entirely, if we remain the season. Notwithstanding our troubles, this is our choice, if you approve. I do so much regret that affairs at home will not permit you to be with us.

        I am now sensible that we made a grand mistake in our plan of educating Pocahontas and Virginia. I had not the least idea that they were so dependent on Judy and Rose, until they left. They are as helpless as two dolls. They kept their room almost the whole of yesterday, hoping the maids would come and assist them in their toilet, their meals being sent up to them. To-day they have managed to aid each other, but I regret to say that they are not well dressed.

        What a treasure was our Judy! She was worth her weight in gold. You know she was as ingenious as a Yankee, and had the admirable faculty of doing every thing comme-il-faut. Her taste in mantua-making was superb, and I had more confidence in her judgment of dress, than in my own. It is difficult to say how I shall get along without her, as she always made my toilet for a party, and Rose was just as indispensable to the girls. If indeed they have been decoyed to Canada, they will doubtless get home-sick and be glad to come back to us. Indeed we have always been kind to them, and they went away without the slightest provocation. We shall be obliged to hire white servants in their places for the present, which I much regret, as it will be so expensive.

        The girls send best love to papa, and beg a few hundred dollars more, as they really need more ball dresses, and more jewelry, to produce that impression that is so desirable. Pocahontas, by paying a little more attention to dress and appearance, will be the belle of the season decidedly.

        Very few of these northerners seem to sympathize with us in our misfortune, as southerners would. If I may judge from this trial, they are not a whole-hearted people, and not very generous in seeking to alleviate the afflicted. Indeed I am glad that I am not a wrong-headed, cold-hearted northerner. Yet these people have some very

interesting traits, and the society is excellent in this place. To-day I have met some delightful people from Georgia.

        Pocahontas and Virginia will write soon, meanwhile send much love, in which joins,

Your devoted

MARY.

        Charles Chadwick, Esq., was greatly afflicted by this letter. The prospect for crops for the season was very poor, owing to the drouth, and he felt that he could ill afford to lose any of his house furniture, or plantation stock. He was pacing his room in a great tempest of mind, when Gregory, the dining-room servant, brought in Mrs. Brazen's note, sent "by Ned."

        "Bless my life!" exclaimed Mr. Chadwick, as he read the rare missive, "bless my life, like Job's messengers, what will come next?"

        "Gregory! here, tell Ned to send Brazen to me directly!" The messenger went his way, and for about one hour before the overseer made his appearance, Mr. Chadwick continued pacing the room, considering what was best to be done.

        "Brazen," said he, when the overseer arrived, "I am in want of money. The young ladies' servants have made off for Canada."

        "You don't say so!" exclaimed the man addressed. "I am in want of money!" continued Mr. C., "and our

force will be still large enough, if we make sale of some of the people. There is no other alternative. Jamie, Tray, and Kitt must be sold!"

        "Richly deserve it!" said Brazen, "done made more mischief, double and thribble in a manner I may say, than all the lads on the plantations, that they have! Why there was Mrs. Brazen's two--"

        "I am in want of money," interrupted Mr. C., "the plantation is getting overstocked, and next court day, you may take Jamie, Tray and Kitt, since they are disposed to steal turkeys, and sell them to the highest bidder!" "Exactly! I'll see it done!" said the overseer eagerly, chuckling within himself at the turn things were taking.

        "That is all!" said Mr. Chadwick, waving his hand, when his deputy withdrew without further ceremony.

CHAPTER VIII.

        New sorrow for Jinny and her sons. No friend to help. Sabbath. Court day.

        NED faithfully executed Brazen's orders about leaving some of the bones and feathers around Jinny's cabin. This was done, among other reasons, that the poor inmates might see the weighty proof against them, and have nothing to say. The next morning the overseer started early, just as the Foreman and Co. were going to the field, and stopping the three whom he had bribed Ned to prove guilty, he told them to walk back to the cabin with him, when, pointing to the bones and feathers, he said, "I see that you have made a supper of my turkeys!" The boys were perfectly confounded. They understood enough of Brazen to know that it would be useless for them to offer a word in self-defense. Even Jinny, who had just got out her wheel, ready to go to work, was silent. She knew, since her mistress was at the North, that there was no one to whom she could appeal for redress, and that all she could do was quietly to submit to just what the oppressor judged best to lay upon her. "Yes," said Brazen, "you ate my turkies!

but you will hear of it again! Go to your work, you thieves!"

        The three sorrowful brothers obeyed, and as they toiled that long, long day, their hearts were swelled to bursting. They were conscious of innocence, but there was no one to plead their cause. At night they talked over their sorrows with their mother.

        "We must bear it all," said she, "for we are poor slave people!"

        Jamie's soul rose within him, "I will be free, or die!" said he.

        "So will I!" echoed Tray.

        "And I too!" said little Kitt.

        "I pray the Father that you may all be free," said Jinny. "And Jinny too," said Kitt nestling close by her side. "Yes," said she, "I do pray the Father that we may all be free."

        Saturday passed in the usual toil, and the grateful day of rest dawned, the last day that this sorrowful family were to spend together, and although they knew it not, yet there seemed a presentiment of evil over-shadowing them. They were gladdened in the morning of this day by hearing of the escape of Judy and Rose. They went to the wood, the place where old Scipio had lived, and there, amid the sacred solitude,

they kneeled down and prayed. Jinny had implanted a thirst for freedom in her daughters, before they were old enough to leave her, and overjoyed that they had escaped, she knelt down by old Scipio's and Agga's grave, and with her sons offered heart-felt thanksgiving to God. It was a holy, blessed day of rest to this mother and her boys, and they lingered to read, talk, and pray, in the calm cool of the forest until evening, when they returned to their lonely dwelling. Monday, court day, came, and almost every body went to the "Court House," as the little village around that building was called.

        Court day is to the little villages and surrounding plantations of the South, what town meetings, or election day is to the towns of the North; there is a great gathering in both cases, and a general exchanging of news and opinions. Court day is the first Monday in each month, and after the court has set, is the time fixed for all Sheriff's sales, whether of furniture, cattle, horses or servants; hence the court house on that day is a place of great resort to the planters, overseers, and all people who are on the look-out for good bargains, or wish to know what is going on.

        Overseer Brazen had instructed Ned to tell Jamie and his brothers, on Monday morning, that they were not to

work in the field, but await his orders at their cabin. The overseer came to Jinny's hut about nine o'clock, and said to the lads, "Come, stir yourselves! go with me; it's court day, and you are wanted at the court house!" To Jinny this announcement was a blow which felled her senseless to the floor, and then the heart-bursting brothers were torn away by the merciless Brazen. His carryall was at the door, and directing the three to get in, he followed with old Jeff, the driver, and they moved off as fast as the horse would go. After a ride of about two miles, the "goods and chattels," were conducted from the carryall to the jail for safe keeping, until four o'clock, at which time the auction sales were to commence.

CHAPTER IX.
THREE ARTICLES SOLD, AMONG OTHER THINGS.

        "Tell me not of rights; talk not of the property of the planter in his slaves. I deny the right; I acknowledge not the property. The principles, the feelings, of our common nature, rise in rebellion against it. Be the appeal made to the understanding or to the heart, the sentence is the same that rejects it. In vain you tell me of laws that sanction such a claim. There is a law above all the enactments of human codes, the same throughout the world, the same in all time; such as it was before the daring genius of Columbus pierced the night of ages, and opened to one world the source of power, wealth, and knowledge, to another all unutterable woes; such it is at this day; it is the law written by the finger of God on the heart of man; and by that law, unchangeable and eternal, while men despise fraud, and loathe rapine, and abhor blood, they shall reject with indignation the wild and guilty fantasy that man can hold property in man."--Lord Brougham.

        Jinny's sons in the court house jail. Auction. Jamie sold. The sale of Tray. The hammer goes down on little Kitt. Similar articles disposed of. Sales necessary. Redfield's estate. Little Ella. Contrasts.

        WE left poor Jinny insensible. It was almost noon when she became conscious of her deep bereavement. "My Father!" prayed she, in her agony, "must they be all sold?" and then, as if nerved and strengthened by an inspiring thought, she arose from the earthern floor, and applied herself to her task at the wheel, that she might go down to the court house, and see what would become of her boys.

        The poor lads passed a sad, weary day in the jail. They were put in a damp, moist, grated room, dark and gloomy. One half hour before the sale came on, overseer

Brazen came, and conducting them from their cell into a better apartment, gave them some food and examined their appearance, as it was important that they should show to the best advantage.

        The crowd having assembled, the servants to be sold being led in by the constables, the auctioneer, hammer in hand, takes his stand directly in front of the village tavern, the jail being on the right and the court house in the rear. Jamie is first produced, old Scipio's darling, the child of his prayers, the lad who from his earliest years was haunted by the spirit of freedom, he is to be sold at public auction, his bones and sinews and immortal spirit to be bartered for--silver.

        He is led out from the group, for there were more slaves to be sold, belonging to broken-down farmers, and placed on a hogshead, so that he, the article under consideration, may de seen by all present.

        He is perfectly calm and self-possessed, and with folded arms awaits his disposal. Wrapt in the consciousness of his own title to himself, which no conveyance to another can destroy, there he stands, disdaining to show any emotion while he is made the gazing-stock of gentlemen of the bar, judges, lordly planters, overseers, and nigger-buyers,^*

        * The name of those who buy slaves to sell again.

of the scape-gallows loafers, who constitute the dignified patrol of the neighborhood. In the back ground, supporting herself against the side of the house, stands a lone weeping mother. Having toiled at her wheel, and accomplished her task, with an eager step she has sought this market-place to be present at the sale of her heart's treasure!

        The auctioneer begins, thus introducing the youth: "This servant's name is Jamie. He is twenty-one years old, from a good family, and has an excellent character; the alleged offense for which he was sold, had been conveniently forgotten. Who 'll give us a bid, gentlemen?" "Seven hundred dollars," cries a planter, thinking how much he needs a house-servant. "Gentlemen," said the auctioneer, "I am offered seven hundred dollars for this princely servant! Why, bless my life! one so likely and well-built, active, and sound throughout, is worth twice that sum!"

        "Seven hundred and fifty," screams out another in want of a groom.

        "Thank you," said the auctioneer, "too cheap entirely, come, bid up gentlemen!"

        "Eight hundred dollars," cried one in want of a field hand.

        "You understand the subject, I perceive, sir, and yet

the trifle you offer is as nothing. Gentlemen, arouse ye! Here 's this truly valuable servant just a going for eight hundred--"

        "Eight hundred and fifty dollars!" bawls the nigger-buyer, and the hammer goes down.

        Jamie is removed and Tray is placed on high. He stands with downcast eyes, while despair and mental agony are legibly written on his face.

        The auctioneer proceeds: "This slave's name is Tray. He is nineteen years of age, family and character good. He is clever and smart, entirely sound, teeth good; has been accustomed to the field, but will make a good groom or mechanic. Start the bid, gentlemen."

        "Six hundred dollars," cries McClinch, an overseer.

        "Six hundred dollars bid," says the auctioneer; "any advance on six hundred? Remember his many qualifications, and show how you appreciate merit, gentlemen!"

        "Six hundred and fifty," sings out the fat landlord, Webster Webb, on the qui vive for a waiter.

        "Thank you, thank you, sir," said the man of the hammer, "you deserve the whole lot. Gentlemen, here 's this strong, active, clever, and likely servant, just a going at six fifty."

        "Seven hundred dollars!" cried out a planter, for the sake of his corn-field.

        "Decided improvement, sir; you surpass yourself, sir! the hammer is tempted to fall; any advance on seven hundred? Just a going, once, twice, come bid up, gentlemen."

        "Seven hundred and fifty dollars," cries another gentleman, in behalf of his blacksmith shop.

        "Eight hundred dollars!" says Gripe, the buyer for the Richmond market, and the hammer goes down, for who can compete with him?

        It was now little Kitt's turn to be sold. Tray was removed, and the youngest of the little flock placed in view of all. Jinny had borne her grief thus far in silent agony, but now her bleeding heart found relief, in a loud, wild, tumultuous cry, which thrilled the motley crowd like an electric shock. Long and shrill was the scream which rose to heaven, from that poor bereaved mother; and the God who listened to the voice of Abel's blood crying from the ground, heard that lone woman. It was her youngest born, with whom she had watched through his weary nights of pain. She had seen him slowly recover, and received him as one from the dead. She would have buried him without a murmur, but it broke her heart to have him sold into

bondage more helpless than that in which he was born.

        The child echoed the maniac scream of his mother, and sought in his distress to spring from the stand to her side. But the attempt was vain. The rough grasp of the constable was on him, and he was again hoisted, and notwithstanding the confusion, the auctioneer was told to go on. But the mother's shrieks and the child's echoes continued, and several voices from the crowd added somewhat to the tumult, by loudly vociferating, "Take her away! away with her!" Accordingly the constables, in the exercise of "their duty," tore poor Jinny away and confined her in one of the cells of the jail hard by, till the sale was over, and the overseer was ready to take her home.

        The crowd getting settled into something like composure, (although still hearing the wailings of the bereaved mother,) the auctioneer, after clearing his throat, went on to say, that Kitt was sixteen years of age, likely, well built, although a dwarf, and rapidly getting sound. "Gentlemen, give us a bid!"

        "Four hundred dollars," cries the overseer from Oak hill.

        "Four hundred bid for this excellent servant. Just the right age to make himself useful. Bid up, gentlemen! Don't sob so loud, Kitt."

        "Four hundred and twenty dollars," bids one in search of a miller.

        "Thank you, sir; that's better," said the auctioneer; "any more bids? Here's this very valuable servant just a going for four hundred and twenty dollars; just a going, once, twice,--"

        "Four hundred and forty," bids Gripe, the nigger-buyer.

        "Four forty, four forty is bid, any more bids, gentlemen? once, twice, three times"--so down went the hammer that sealed the fate of little Kitt.

        But time and space fail to describe the sale of the branded things with souls, at this auction, for similar articles were placed on the hogshead, and cried, until a lot of twenty (including Jinny's sons) had been disposed of, and the nigger-buyer became the owner of them all. The freedom of each of these beings was bartered to him. Stolen property was sold under the most aggravated circumstances, for the true owners were there, and, with pleading looks and many tears, beseeching it to be restored to them. The slaveholder reasons, "You are my property, and what have I besides?"

        Says outraged humanity in the slave, "You have LIBERTY."

        "I can not give up my property!" says the planter.

        "Give me my liberty!" pleads the bondsman.

        "Down slave!" says the master; "your liberty is mine!"

        "Does massa want two liberty?" expostulates the slave.

        "Away dog! to your toil! what could you do with your liberty? YOU CAN NOT TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF!"

        "Massa, you take your liberty and let me have mine, then we see who take care of himself best."

        To return. The slaves sold after Jinny's sons, belonged to an estate in the neighborhood, the proprietor of which had been called away to give account of his stewardship in another world, and as he could not take his goods with him, they must be sold.

        When a planter dies at the South, it sometimes happens that his estate can be portioned off among his heirs without selling any part of it. But in most cases, in order to make an equal division, where there is no will, it becomes necessary for the parties concerned, to engage in the slave-trade for a time. The charges which conscience and humanity bring against this course, are evaded by considering the stern necessity of the case. Take for an illustration the estate of Redfield, the grandfather proprietor of which made his money by trading in slaves; in other words, he was a

"nigger-buyer." Of course a curse followed, vulture-like, and preyed on him till he took him own life, seeking to hide himself in the grave from the gaunt train of specters that haunted him. Peace, joy, and life, consumed away in him, and he was left like a tree in the desert, blighted by the lightning of heaven--dead, ere it fell, awaiting but the blast of the fierce furnace-breath to be laid low, and be covered by the drifting sands. Self-destroyer, he made his own funeral, and the earth rejoiced, for she was rid of one foul excrescence which deformed her. But the curse still preyed on the family, as we shall see. At the death of the grandson of the Redfield "nigger-buyer," his estate was found encumbered with debts; a part of which were the father's who had died in early life, and who, although he died a sot, nevertheless had a credential epitaph on his tombstone, and a pious paper obituary. When the grandson died, whose death, by the way, was hastened by a wound received in a duel, the estate was so involved as to render a sale necessary. If that had not been the case, his two sons, Frank and Fitz, being at sword's points, could never have agreed on a division of the plantation, men, women, and horses, &c. And all will perceive that an auction sale was loudly called for, and extremely proper, according to the custom of the country.

As we have before intimated, this desirable sale happened on the same day that the turkey thieves, Jamie and his brothers, were disposed of. Now it must not for a moment be supposed that Frank and Fitz Mammon received the visits of any of the family of Compunction, because they were about to trade in "the bodies and souls of men:" O no, indeed, Conscience, being seared with a red-hot iron, had taken her leave years before, doubtless thinking it idle to waste her admonitions on such reprobate drinkers. They were gentlemen, and got drunk upon wine, and just before coming to this auction, became much intoxicated on the last pipe of Madeira, which had long ago been cellared by the slave-dealing family. Yet they considered themselves immensely capable of attending to business.

        The first that was sold after the hammer went down upon poor Kitt, was one little Ella, of the Redfield estate.

        "Hi," says a whisper in the crowd, "that article is a little bit of a magnificent."

        "A rare beautiful piece of ebony that," echoes another.

        And while they are calculatingly discussing her merits, let us stop and pity her, for I fear there is not one to feel sympathy for her, in all that crowd. One;

yes, there are Jamie and his brothers; their chains constitute a bond of sympathy; they do feel for her.

        Ella is sold, and sixteen besides, and the slave-buyer, after foddering them with bits and ends of ash-pones, locks them up in the jail until morning, while he goes to sleep on a bed of down at Webster Webb's tavern, near by. After a hearty supper, and corresponding potations of brandy and water, the slave-buyer, with the aid of two servants, reached his sleeping apartment. Confederate demons being in attendance, he had a tempestuous sleep, diversified with horrid dreams. Three times did the fiends arouse him, and cause him to scream for mercy; and as often did kind Peter, the waiter who slept at his feet, soothe him to sleep, for he dreamed that his prisoners were loose, and that they conspired to murder him.

CHAPTER X.
ANOTHER SALE AND THE ESCAPE.

        Preparation for a journey. A bargain made. Black Brownson exposed to slavery. Gripe's disappointment. Laments his stupidity. Cruelty. The caravan stops for the night.

        GRIPE arose from his haunted couch on Tuesday morning, in a fever of a hurry. Having commenced the day by taking a glass of water, made stiff with brandy, he was very generous in distributing his oaths to all who came in his way. He ordered that an extra good breakfast of corn-bread and buttermilk, be served to the people in the jail, as a long day's journey was before them. He then despatched his own breakfast, consisting of muffins, waffles, cold beef and bacon, honey, butter, and coffee. With the aid of his two assistants, Stithe and Strong, he then arranged his new property, for the journey to Richmond, fifty miles distant. His large slave-wagon or carryall, was drawn up before the tavern, two horses being harnessed thereto. Nine children under eight years of age, and four adults, were packed in this vehicle. Little Ella and Kitt were to ride on the same horse with Gripe, the one before,

and the other behind him; the five remaining, including Jamie and Tray, were to walk a part of the way, and then to take the places of the adults in the carryall.

        The two men who assisted Gripe, named Stithe and Strong, also had a place in this caravan; the former drove the carryall, while the latter rode on horseback to guard and drive those who walked.

        As the landlord, Webster Webb, wished, his friend Black Brownson (who had atrociously offended him) started about an hour before the slave company, and designed spending the day at a village called Landham, about ten miles distant. When the slave-buyer was nearly ready to go, the landlord waddled up to him and commenced conversation.

        "Pretty good speculation this of yours, friend Gripe?"

        "Right-smart fair, I reckon," replied Mr. Gripe.

        "Would you like to purchase any more people, to add to your lot?" inquired Webster Webb.

        "Why, yes, I am never tired of buying. The more I buy, the more profit. Though as for that matter, there is precious little profit. I barely keep soul and body together by the practice of my profession; barely support Mrs. Gripe. (Aside; although it's true I have a few thousands laid by.) But let 's see, the more the merrier; have you any to sell?"

        "Yes," replied the landlord; "I have one valuable servant that I wish to dispose of."

        "Very well," said the buyer, "how 'll you trade?"

        "You will find my man, Bill Snow," continued Webster Webb, "in my sulky some few miles ahead, if you hurry on. I sent him off ostensibly on an errand, but really to dispose of in this manner. If he should reach Landham village before you do, you may find it more difficult to get possession of him, as he is cunning as a fox. So you had best hurry on, if you purchase him."

        "Describe him out and out," said the buyer.

        "He is about forty years old," said Webster Webb, "looks much older, of rather swarthy complexion, has good teeth, and is sound throughout. He is dressed genteely, being my body servant, is well spoken and plausible, and will try to pass off as a gentleman; of course you 'll take no notice of that. If he resists, use the hand-cuffs."

        "Never fear us," replied Gripe, "we know our profession. But how 'll ye trade?"

        "O, I dare say we shall not differ about that; any thing reasonable," replied Mr. Webb.

        "But your terms!" said Gripe; "your terms."

        "Well, then, as I wish to give you a bargain, I will sell him for $800, on sixty days credit."

        "Done! it 's a bargain!" said the speculator. "But the horse and sulky?"

        "You may leave them at the village tavern, and I will send for them," said the landlord.

        Each one goes his way chuckling with satisfaction; the one is pleased at the success of his project to play a game on his neighbor, the other at the rare bargain he has made.

        All things being in readiness, the caravan starts from the tavern; and as Gripe is anxious to overtake his property that is ahead, he presses on at a brisk rate, leaving the carryall and the foot-passengers quite in the rear.

        Meanwhile he congratulates himself on his great gains, and sees in perspective, a splendid fortune in his possession. Visions of prodigious estates well stocked with laborers, rise before him as his steed moves along, and little Ella and Kitt, tired with weeping, remain stupified with grief, while he complacently mutters to himself, swinging his cow-hide, "all mine; lawfully mine; made by constant trade in four short years." Just at this moment, coming to a turn in the road, he saw his latest purchase, riding at his ease like a gentleman, as the buyer expressed it, "for all the world like a lord; as unconcerned as if he were the master and not the slave."

        "Halloa, my man!" shouts the purchaser, riding up alongside of the sulky: "halloa, there; let me have the pleasure of introducing your new master, that's myself, d' ye hear?"

        "Sir!" exclaimed Black Brownson, drawing in his reins in unfeigned astonishment. "Sir; do you mean to insult me?"

        "So, so; this is all sorts of impudence," said the drover; "but your master has warned me of your tricks. No more of them then, or I 'll give you a taste of my cowhide," at the same time giving said weapon a threatening sweep over his head.

        "What under the heavens do you mean?" growled out Black Brownson, his eyes flashing fire as he spoke.

        "That you are my servant by lawful purchase; and that you may as well keep your impudence to yourself, if you know what's for your health," said he of the good bargain.

        "Not so fast, sir; not so fast, sir," exclaimed Black Brownson, "here is a mistake, all resulting from my enduring black skin. I have always feared to travel farther south, lest I should be sold for a slave; but bless me, I never expected to be sold not ten miles from my own plantation to a "nigger-buyer."

        "Nevertheless," said Gripe, "I shall make bold to

arrest you as my property, and, putting on the hand-cuffs, give you in charge to my overseer Stithe, who is coming up with the people I bought yesterday. I shall