“Oh yes,” replied the young man, “we’ll take care of the little fellow, and see him sent safely back,” and took leave, promising to have another interview in the afternoon. About twelve o’clock a negro boy came to the vessel with a tin pan covered with a towel, and presenting it to Cesar, for “massa cap’en and buckra boy.” Cesar brought it aft and set it upon the companion. It contained some rice, a piece of bacon, corn-cake, and three sweet-potatoes.
“Coarse fare, but I can get along with it. Come Tommy, I guess you’re hungry, as well as myself,” said the captain, and they sat down, and soon demolished the feast of Southern hospitality. About five o’clock in the evening, the young man not making his appearance, the Captain sent Tommy ashore to inquire for him at the house, telling him (in order to test their feelings) that he could stop and get his supper. Tommy clambered ashore, and up the bank wending his way to the house. The young man made his appearance, offering an apology for his delay and inattention, saying the presence of some very particular friends from Beaufort was the cause. “My father, you are aware, owns this vessel, captain!–You got a good dinner, to-day, by-the-by,” said he.
“Yes, we got along with it, but could have eaten more,” rejoined the captain.
“Ah! bless me, that was the nigger’s fault. These niggers are such uncertain creatures, you must watch ’em over the least thing. Well now, captain, my father has sent you five dollars to pay your passage to Charleston!”
“Well, that’s a small amount, but I’ll try and get along with it, rather than stop here, at any rate,” said the captain, taking the bill and twisting it into his pocket, and giving particular charges in regard to taking care of the boy. That night, a little after sundown, he took passage in a downward-bound coaster, bid a long good-by to the Edisto and Colonel Whaley’s plantation, and arrived in Charleston the next night. On the following morning he presented himself to the agents, who generously paid him, all his demands, and expressed their regrets at the circumstance. Acting upon the smart of feeling, the captain enclosed the five-dollar bill and returned it to the sovereign Colonel Whaley.
The Savannah Republican, of the 11th September, says-“We have been kindly furnished with the particulars of a duel which came off at Major Stark’s plantation, opposite this city, yesterday morning, between Colonel E. M. Whaley, and E. E. Jenkins, of South Carolina.” Another paper stated that “after a single exchange of shot, * * * * the affair terminated, but without a reconciliation.” The same Colonel Whaley! Either ‘of these journals might have give particulars more grievous, and equally as expressive of Southern life. They might have described a beautiful wife, a Northern lady, fleeing with her two children, to escape the abuses of a faithless husband-taking shelter in the Charleston Hotel, and befriended by Mr. Jenkins and another young man, whose name we shall not mention-and that famous establishment surrounded by the police on a Sabbath night, to guard its entrances-and she dragged forth, and carried back to the home of unhappiness.
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE HABEAS CORPUS.
THE Captain of the Janson had settled his business, and was anxious to return home. He had done all in his power for Manuel, and notwithstanding the able exertions of the consul were combined with his, he had effected nothing to relieve him. The law was imperative, and if followed out, there was no alternative for him, except upon the ground of his proving himself entitled to a white man’s privileges. To do this would require an endless routine of law, which would increase his anxiety and suffering twofold. Mr. Grimshaw had been heard to say, that if an habeas corpus were sued out, he should stand upon the technicality of an act of the legislature, refuse to answer the summons or give the man up. No, he would himself stand the test upon the point of right to the habeas corpus, and if he was committed for refusing to deliver up the prisoner, he would take advantage of another act of the legislature, and after remaining a length of time in jail, demand his release according to the statutes. So far was Mr. Grimshaw impressed with his own important position in the matter, and of the course which he should pursue, that he several times told the prisoners that he should be a prisoner among them in a few days, to partake of the same fare.
Judge Withers, however, saved him the necessity of such important trouble. To those acquainted with Judge Withers it would be needless to dwell upon the traits of his character. To those who are not, we can say that his were feelings founded upon interest-moving in the foremost elements of secession-arbitrary, self-willed, and easily swayed by prejudice-a man known to the public and the bar for his frigidity, bound in his own opinions, and yielding second to the wishes and principles of none-fearful of his popularity as a judge, yet devoid of those sterling principles which deep jurists bring to their aid when considering important questions, where life or liberty is at stake-a mind that would rather reinstate monarchy than spread the blessings of a free government. What ground have we here to hope for a favorable issue?
Thus when the consul applied for the writ of habeas corpus, the right was denied him, notwithstanding the subject was heir-inherent to all the rights of citizenship and protection, which the laws of his own nation could clothe him with. To show how this matter was treated by the press-though we are happy to say the feelings of the mercantile community are not reflected in it-we copy the leader from the “Southern Standard,” a journal published in Charleston, the editor of which professes to represent the conservative views of a diminutive minority. Here it is:–“CHARLESTON, APRIL 23, 1852. “Colored Seamen and State Rights.
” Our readers have not forgotten the correspondence which some time since took place between His Excellency Governor Means and Her British Majesty’s Consul, Mr. Mathew. We published in the Standard, of the 5th December last, the very temperate, dignified, and well-argued report of Mr. Mazyck, chairman of the special committee of the Senate, to whom had been referred the message of the Governor, transmitting the correspondence. In our issue of the 16th December, we gave to our readers the able report of Mr. McCready, on behalf of the committee of the other house, on the same subject.
“We have now to call the attention of the public to the fact, that the practical issue has been made, by which the validity of the laws in regard to colored seamen arriving in our port is to be submitted to the judicial tribunals of the country. For ourselves we have no fears for the credit of the State in such a controversy. The right of the State to control, by her own legislation, the whole subject-matter, can, as we think, by a full discussion, be established upon a basis which, in the South at least, will never hereafter be questioned. If there be defects in the details of the regulations enacted, the consideration of them is now precluded, when the issue presented is the right of the State to act at all times in the premises.
“The writ of habeas corpus was applied for before Judge Withers, during the term of the court which has just closed, by the British consul, through his counsel, Mr. Petigru, in behalf of one Manuel Pereira, a colored sailor, who claims to be a Portuguese subject, articled to service on board an English brig driven into this port by stress of weather; the said Manuel Pereira being then in jail under the provisions of the act of the legislature of this State, passed in 1835, emendatory of the previous acts on the subject. Judge Withers, in compliance with the requirements of the act of 1844, refused the writ of habeas corpus, and notice of appeal has been given. Thus is the issue upon us.
“We have but one regret in the matter, and that is that the case made is one where the party asking his liberty has been driven into our harbor involuntarily. Great Britain, it is true, is the last power which should complain on this account, with her own example in the case of the Enterprise before her eyes; but we do not, we confess, like this feature of the law. We have no doubt, however, that this fact being brought to the notice of the executive, he will interfere promptly to release the individual in the present case, provided the party petitions for the purpose, and engages at once to leave the State. But we shall see nothing of this. Mr. Manuel Pereira, like another John Wilkes, is to have settled in his person great questions of constitutional liberty. The posterity which in after times shall read of his voluntary martyrdom and heroic self- sacrifice in the cause of suffering humanity, must be somewhat better informed than Mr. Pereira himself; for we observe that his clerkly skill did not reach the point of enabling him to subscribe his name to the petition for habeas corpus, which is to figure so conspicuously in future history, it being more primitively witnessed by his ‘mark.'”
An appeal was taken from this refusal, and carried before the appeal court, sitting at Columbia, the capital of the State. How was this treated? Without enlisting common respect, it sustained the opinion of Judge Withers, who was one of its constituted members. Under such a state of things, where all the avenues to right and justice were clogged by a popular will that set itself above law or justice, where is the unprejudiced mind that will charge improper motives in asking justice of the highest judicial tribunal in the country.
In the year 1445, a petition was presented, or entered on the rolls of the British Parliament, from the commons of two neighboring counties, praying the abatement of a nuisance which promised fearful interruptions to the peace and quiet of their hamlets, in consequence of the number of attorneys having increased from eight to twenty-four, setting forth that attorneys were dangerous to the peace and happiness of a community, and praying that there should be no more than six attorneys for each county. The king granted the petition, adding a clause which left it subject to the approval of the judges. Time works mighty contrasts. If those peaceable old commoners could have seen a picture of the nineteenth century, with its judiciary dotted upon the surface, they would certainly have put the world down as a very unhappy place. The people of Charleston might now inquire why they have so much law and so little justice?
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE CAPTAIN’S DEPARTURE AND MANUEL’S RELEASE.
AFTER remaining nearly three weeks in close confinement in a cell on the third story, Manuel was allowed to come down and resume his position among the stewards, in the “steward’s cell.” There was a sad change of faces. But one of those he left was there; and he, poor fellow, was so changed as to be but a wreck of what he was when Manuel was confined in the cell.
After little Tommy left, the Captain deposited a sum of money with the jailer to supply Manuel’s wants. The jailer performed his duty faithfully, but the fund was soon exhausted, and Manuel was forced to appeal to his consul. With the care for its citizens that marks the course of that government, and the characteristic kindness of its representative in Charleston, the appeal was promptly responded to. The consul attended him in person, and even provided from his own purse things necessary to make him comfortable. We could not but admire the nobleness of many acts bestowed upon this humble citizen through the consul, showing the attachment and faith of a government to its humblest subject. The question now was, would the Executive release him? Mr. Grimshaw had interposed strong objections, and made unwarrantable statements in regard to his having been abandoned by his captain, the heavy expenses incurred to maintain the man, and questioning the validity of the British consul’s right to protect him. Under the effect of these representations, the prospect began to darken, and Manuel became more discontented, and anxiously awaited the result.
In this position, a petition was despatched to the Executive, asking that the man might be released, on the faith of the British Government that all expenses be paid, and he immediately sent beyond the limits of the State.
But we must return and take leave of Captain Thompson, before we receive the answer to the petition. The day fixed for his departure had arrived. He had all his papers collected, and arose early to take his accustomed walk through the market. It was a little after seven o’clock, and as he approached the singular piece of wood-work that we have described in a previous chapter as the Charleston Whipping-post, he saw a crowd collected around it, and negroes running to the scene, crying out, “Buckra gwine to get whip! buckra get ‘e back scratch!” &c. &c. He quickened his pace, and, arriving at the scene, elbowed his way through an immense crowd until he came to where he had a fair view. Here, exposed to view, were six respectably dressed white men, to be whipped according to the laws of South Carolina, which flog in the market for petty theft. Five of them were chained together, and the other scientifically secured to the machine, with his bare back exposed, and Mr. Grimshaw (dressed with his hat and sword of office to make the dignity of the punishment appropriate) laying on the stripes with a big whip, and raising on tip-toe at each blow to add force, making the flesh follow the lash. Standing around were about a dozen huge constables with long-pointed tipstaffs in their hands, while two others assisted in chaining and unchaining the prisoners. The spectacle was a barbarous one, opening a wide field for reflection. It was said that this barbarous mode of punishment was kept up as an example for the negroes. It certainly is a very singular mode of inspiring respect for the laws.
He had heard much of T. Norman Gadsden, whose fame sounded for being the greatest negro-seller in the country, yet he had not seen him, though he had witnessed several negro-sales at other places. On looking over the papers after breakfast, his eye caught a flaming advertisement with “T. Norman Gadsden’s sale of negroes” at the head. There were plantation negroes, coachmen, house-servants, mechanics, children of all ages, with descriptions as various as the kinds. Below the rest, and set out with a glowing delineation, was a description of a remarkably fine young sempstress, very bright and very intelligent, sold for no fault. The notice should have added an exception, that the owner was going to get married.
He repaired to the place at the time designated, and found them selling an old plantation-negro, dressed in ragged, gray clothes, who, after a few bids, was knocked down for three hundred and fifty dollars. “We will give tip-top titles to everything we sell here to-day; and, gentlemen, we shall now offer you the prettiest wench in town. She is too well-known for me to say more,” said the notorious auctioneer.
A number of the first citizens were present, and among them the Captain recognised Colonel S–, who approached and began to descant upon the sale of the woman. “It’s a d–d shame to sell that girl, and that fellow ought to be hung up,” said he, meaning the owner; and upon this he commenced giving a history of the poor girl.
“Where is she? Bring her along! Lord! gentlemen, her very curls are enough to start a bid of fifteen hundred,” said the auctioneer.
“Go it, Gadsden, you’re a trump,” rejoined a number of voices.
The poor girl moved to the stand, pale and trembling, as if she was stepping upon the scaffold, and saw her executioners around her. She was very fair and beautiful-there was something even in her graceful motions that enlisted admiration. Here she stood almost motionless for a few moments.
“Gentlemen, I ought to charge all of you sevenpence a sight for looking at her,” said the auctioneer. She smiled at the remark, but it was the smile of pain.
“Why don’t you sell the girl, and not be dogging her feelings in this manner?” said Colonel S–.
Bids continued in rapid succession from eleven hundred up to thirteen hundred and forty. A well-known trader from New Orleans stood behind one of the city brokers, motioning him at every bid, and she was knocked down to him. We learned her history and know the sequel.
The Captain watched her with mingled feelings, and would fain have said, “Good God! and why art thou a slave?”
The history of that unfortunate beauty may be comprehended in a few words, leaving the reader to draw the details from his imagination. Her mother was a fine mulatto slave, with about a quarter Indian blood. She was the mistress of a celebrated gentleman in Charleston, who ranked among the first families, to whom she bore three beautiful children, the second of which is the one before us. Her father, although he could not acknowledge her, prized her highly, and unquestionably never intended that she should be considered a slave. Alice, for such was her name, felt the shame of her position. She knew her father, and was proud to descant upon his honor and rank, yet must either associate with negroes or nobody, for it would be the death of caste for a white woman, however mean, to associate with her. At the age of sixteen she became attached to a young gentleman of high standing but moderate means, and lived with him as his mistress. Her father, whose death is well known, died suddenly away from home. On administering on his estate, it proved that instead of being wealthy, as was supposed, he was insolvent, and the creditors insisting upon the children being sold. Alice was purchased by compromise with the administrator, and retained by her lord under a mortgage, the interest and premium on which he had regularly paid for more than four years. Now that he was about to get married, the excuse of the mortgage was the best pretext in the world to get rid of her.
The Captain turned from the scene with feelings that left deep impressions upon his mind, and that afternoon took his departure for his Scottish home.
Time passed heavily at the jail, and day after day Manuel awaited his fate with anxiety. At every tap of the prison-bell he would spring to the door and listen, asserting that he heard the consul’s voice in every passing sound. Day after day the consul would call upon him and quiet his fears, reassuring him that he was safe and should not be sold as a slave. At length, on the seventeenth day of May, after nearly two months’ imprisonment, the glad news was received that Manuel Pereira was not to be sold, according to the statutes, but to be released upon payment of all costs, &c. &c., and immediately sent beyond the limits of the State. We leave it to the reader’s fancy, to picture the scene of joy on the reception of the news in the “stewards’ cell.”
The consul lost no time in arranging his affairs for him, and at five o’clock on the afternoon of the 17th of May, 1852, Manuel Pereira, a poor, shipwrecked mariner, who, by the dispensation of an all-wise Providence, was cast upon the shores of South Carolina, and imprisoned because hospitality to him was “contrary to law,” was led forth, pale and emaciated, by two constables, thrust into a closely covered vehicle, and driven at full speed to the steamboat then awaiting to depart for New York. This is but a faint glimpse, of the suffering to which colored stewards are subjected in the Charleston jail.
There were no less than sixty-three cases of colored seamen imprisoned on this charge of “contrary to law,” during the calendar year ending on the twelfth of September, 1852. And now that abuses had become so glaring, a few gentlemen made a representation of the wretched prison regimen to his Excellency, Governor Means, who, as if just awoke from a dream that had lasted a generation, addressed a letter to the Attorney-General, dated on the seventh of September, 1852, requesting a statement in regard to the jail-how many prisoners there were confined on the twelfth day of September, under sentence and awaiting trial, the nature of offences, who committed by, and how long they had awaited trial; what the cost of the jail was, how much was paid by prisoners, and how much by the State, &c. &c. In that statement, the number of colored seamen was, for reasons best known to Mr. Grimshaw, kept out of the statement; so also was the difference between thirty cents and eight cents a day, paid for the ration for each man. The real statement showed a bounty to the sheriff of fourteen hundred and sixty-three dollars on’ the provisions alone-a sad premium upon misery. Now add to this a medium amount for each of these sixty-three sailors, and we have between eight and nine hundred dollars more, which, with sundry jail-fees and other cribbage-money, makes the Charleston jail a nice little appendage to the sheriff’s office, and will fully account for the tenacity with which those functionaries cling to the “old system.”
We conclude the bills by giving Manuel’s as it stands upon the books:–“Contrary to law.” British brig “Janson,” Capt. Thompson. For Manuel Pereira, Colored Seaman. 1852. To Sheriff of Charleston District.
May 15th. To Arrest, $2; Register, $2, $4.00″ “Recog., $1.31; Constable, $1, 2.31” “Commitment and Discharge, 1.00” “52 Days’ Maintenance of Manuel Pereira, at 30 cents per day, 15.60
$22.81 Rec’ payment, J. D–, S. C. D. Per Chs. Kanapeaux, Clerk.
This amount is exclusive of all the long scale of law charges and attorney’s fees that were incurred, and is entirely the perquisite of the sheriff.
Now, notwithstanding that high-sounding clamor about the laws of South Carolina, which every South Carolinian, in the redundance of his feelings, strives to impress you with the sovereignty of its justice, its sacred rights, and its pre-eminent reputation, we never were in a country or community where the privileges of a certain class were so much abused. Every thing is made to conserve popular favor, giving to those in influence power to do what they please with a destitute class, whether they be white or black. Official departments are turned into depots for miserable espionage, where the most unjust schemes are practised upon those whose voices cannot be heard in their own defence. A magistrate is clothed with, or assumes a power that is almost absolute, committing them without a hearing, and leaving them to waste in jail; then releasing them before the court sits, and charging the fees to the State; or releasing the poor prisoner on receiving “black mail” for the kindness; giving one man a peace-warrant to oppress another whom he knows cannot get bail; and where a man has served out the penalty of the crime for which he was committed, give a peace-warrant to his adversary that he may continue to vent his spleen upon him. In this manner, we have known a man who had served seven months’ imprisonment for assault and battery, by an understanding between the magistrate and the plaintiff, continued in jail for several years upon a peace-warrant, issued by the magistrate from time to time, until at length he shot himself in jail. The man was a peaceable man, and of a social temperament. He had been offered the alternative of leaving the State, but he scorned to accept it. To show that we are correct in what we say respecting some of the Charleston officials, we insert an article which appeared in the Charleston Courier of Sept. 1, 1852:–[For the Courier.]
“Many of the quiet and moral portion of our community can form no adequate conception of the extent to which those who sell liquor, and otherwise trade with our slaves, are now plying their illegal and demoralizing traffic. At no period within our recollection has it prevailed to such an alarming extent; at no period has its influence upon our slave population been more palpable or more dangerous; at no period has the municipal administration been so wilfully blind to these corrupt practices, or so lenient and forgiving when such practices are exposed.
* * * *
“We have heard it intimated that when General Schnierle is a candidate for the mayoralty, they are regularly assessed for means to defray the expenses of the canvass. Instances are not wanting where amounts of money are paid monthly to General Schnierle’s police as a reward for shutting their eyes and closing their lips when unlawful proceedings are in progress. We have at this moment in our possession a certificate from a citizen, sworn to before Mr. Giles, the magistrate, declaring that he, the deponent, heard one of the city police-officers (Sharlock) make a demand for money upon one of these shop-keepers, and promised that if he would pay him five dollars at stated intervals, ‘none of the police-officers would trouble him.’ This affidavit can be seen, if inquired for, at this office. Thus bribery is added to guilt, and those who should enforce the laws are made auxiliaries in their violation. Said one of these slave-destroyers to us, ‘General Schnierle suits us very well. I have no trouble with General Schnierle’–remarks at once repugnant and suggestive. * * * We are told by one, that Mr. Hutchinson, when in power, fined him heavily (and, as he thought, unjustly) for selling liquor to a slave; hence he would not vote for him. An additional reason for this animosity toward Mr. Hutchinson arises from the fact that the names of offenders were always published during that gentleman’s administration, while under that of General Schnierle they are screened from public view. On any Sunday evening, light may be seen in the shops of these dealers. If the passer-by will for a few moments stay his course, he will witness the ingress and egress of negroes; if he approach the door, he will hear noise as of card-playing and revelry within. And this is carried on unblushingly; is not confined to a shop here and a shop there, but may be observed throughout the city. The writer of this article, some Sundays since, witnessed from his upper window a scene of revelry and gambling in one of these drinking-shops, which will scarcely be credited. A party of negroes were seen around a card-table, with money beside them, engaged in betting; glasses of liquor were on the table, from which they ever and anon regaled themselves with all the nonchalance and affected mannerism of the most fashionable blades of the beau monde.
“This may not be a ‘desecration of the Sabbath’ by the municipal authorities themselves, but they are assuredly responsible for its profanation. Appointed to guard the public morals, they are assuredly censurable if licentiousness is suffered to run its wild career unnoticed and unchecked. We do not ask to be believed. We would prefer to have skeptical rather than credulous readers. We should prefer that all would arise from the perusal of this article in doubt, and determine to examine for themselves. We believe in the strength and sufficiency of ocular proof, and court investigation.
* * *
“We are abundantly repaid if we succeed in arousing public attention to the alarming and dangerous condition of our city. * * * Let inquiry be entered into. We boldly challenge it. It will lead to other and more astonishing developments than those we have revealed. (Signed)
“A RESPONSIBLE CITIZEN.”
CHAPTER XXIX.
MANUEL’S ARRIVAL IN NEW YORK.
WHEN we left Manuel, he was being hurried on board the steamship, as if he was a bale of infected goods. Through the kindness of the clerk in the consul’s office, he was provided with a little box of stores to supply his wants on the passage, as it was known that he would have to “go forward.” He soon found himself gliding over Charleston bar, and took a last look of what to him had been the city of injustice. On the afternoon of the second day, he was sitting upon the forward deck eating an orange that had been given to him by the steward of the ship, probably as a token of sympathy for his sickly appearance, when a number of passengers, acting upon the information of the clerk of the ship, gathered around him. One gentleman from Philadelphia, who seemed to take more interest in the man than any other of the passengers, expressed his indignation in no measured terms, that such a man should be imprisoned as a slave. “Take care,” said a bystander, “there’s a good many Southerners on board.”
“I don’t care if every slaveholder in the South was on board, holding a knife at my throat; I’m on the broad ocean, where God spreads the breezes of freedom that man cannot enslave,” said he, sitting down beside Manuel, and getting him to recount the details of his shipwreck and imprisonment. The number increased around him, and all listened with attention until he had concluded. One of the spectators asked him if he would have something good to eat? but he declined, pulling out the little box that the consul had sent him, and, opening it before them, showed it to be well-stored with little delicacies.
The Philadelphian motioned that they take up a subscription for him, and almost simultaneously took his hat off and began to pass it around; but Manuel, mistaking the motive, told them that he never yet sought charity-that the consul had paid him his wages, and he had money enough to get home. But if he did not accept their contributions, he had their sympathies and their good wishes, which were more prized by him, because they were contrasted with the cold hospitality he had suffered in Charleston.
On the morning of the twentieth he arrived in New York. Here things wore a different aspect. There were no constables fettering him with irons, aggravating his feelings, and dragging him to a miseerable cell overrun with vermin. He had no scientific ordeal of the statutes to pass through, requiring the measure of his form and features; and he was a man again, with life and liberty, and the dark dread of the oppressor’s power far from him. He went to his comfortable boarding-house, and laid his weary limbs down to rest, thanking God that he could now sleep in peace, and awake to liberty. His system was so reduced that he was unable to do duty, although he was anxious to proceed on his way to join the old owners, but wanted to work his way in the capacity of steward. Thus he remained in New York more than four weeks, gaining vigor and strength, and with a lingering hope that he should meet his little companion.
On the twenty-first of June, being well recruited, he sailed for Liverpool, and after a remarkably calm passage of thirty-four days, arrived in the Mersey, and in forty-eight hours more the ship was safely within the Princess’ Dock, and all hands ready to go on shore. In the same dock was a ship taking in cargo and passengers for Charleston, South Carolina. Manuel went on board, and found, in conversation with the steward, that she had sailed from that port on the 23d of May. A short conversation disclosed that they had been old shipmates from the Thames, on board of the Indiaman, Lord William Bentick, and were on board of that ship when an unfortunate circumstance occurred to her on entering a British North American port, many years ago. Here they sat recounting the many adventures through which they had passed since that period, the ships they had sailed in, the sufferings they had gone through, and the narrow escapes they had had for their lives, until past midnight. Manuel wound up by giving a detailed account of his sufferings in Charleston.
“What!” said the steward of the Charleston ship, “then you must have known our cabin-boy, he belonged to the same vessel!”
“What was his name?” inquired Manuel.
“Tommy Ward! and as nice a little fellow as ever served the cabin; poor little fellow, we could hardly get him across.”
“Gracious! that’s my Tommy,” said Manuel. “Where is he? He loves me as he does his life, and would run to me as a child would to its father. Little as he is, he has been a friend through my severest trials, and a companion in my pleasures.”
“Ah, poor child! I’m afraid you wouldn’t know him now. He has suffered much since you saw him.”
“Is he not aboard? Where can I find him?” inquired Manuel, hastily.
“No, he is not aboard; he is at the hospital in Dennison street. Go there to-morrow, and you will find him.”
CHAPTER XXX.
THE SCENE OF ANGUISH.
WE are sorry, that having traced the details of our narrative as they occurred, without adding for dramatic effect, we are constrained to conclude with a picture at once painful and harrowing to the feelings. We do this that we may be sustained by records, in what we have stated, rather than give one of those more popular conclusions which restore happiness and relieve the reader’s feelings.
Manuel retired to his berth, full of meditation. His little companion was before him, pictured in his child-like innocence and playfulness. He saw him in the youthful zeal and freshness of the night when he brought the well-laden haversack into his dreary cell, and which kind act was repaid by a night of suffering in the guard-house. There was too much of life and buoyancy in the picture his imagination called up, to reconcile the belief that any thing serious had befallen him; and yet the man spoke in a manner that aroused the intensity of his feelings. It was a whisper full of fearful forebodings, and filled his mind with anxious expectation. He could not sleep-the anxiety of his feelings had awakened a nervvous restlessness that awaited the return of morning with impatience.
Morning came. He proceeded to the hospital and rang the bell. An aged gentleman came to the door, and to his questions about Tommy being there, answered in the affirmative, and called an attendant to show him the ward in which the little sufferer lay. He followed the attendant, and after ascending several flights of stairs and following a dark, narrow passage nearly to its end, was shown into a small, single-room on the right. The result was suggestive in the very atmosphere, which had a singular effect upon the senses. The room, newly-whitewashed, was darkened by a green curtain tacked over the frame of the window. Standing near the window were two wooden-stools and a little table, upon which burned the faint light of a small taper, arranged in a cup of oil, and shedding its feeble flickers on the evidences of a sick-chamber. There, on a little, narrow cot, lay the death-like form of his once joyous companion, with the old nurse sitting beside him, watching his last pulsation. Her arm encircled his head, while his raven locks curled over his forehead, and shadowed the beauty of innocence even in death.
“Is he there? is he there?” inquired Manuel in a low tone. At the same time a low, gurgling noise sounded in his ears. The nurse started to her feet as if to inquire for what he came. “He is my companion-my companion,” said Manuel.
It was enough. The woman recognised the object of the little sufferer’s anxiety. “Ah! it is Manuel. How often he has called that name for the last week!” said she.
He ran to the bedside and grasped his little fleshless hand as it lay upon the white sheet, bathing his cold brow with kisses of grief. Life was gone-the spirit had winged its way to the God who gave it. Thus closed the life of poor Tommy Ward. He died as one resting in a calm sleep, far from the boisterous sound of the ocean’s tempest, with God’s love to shield his spirit in another and brighter world.
CONCLUSION.
IN a preceding chapter, we left the poor boy on the plantation of Colonel Whaley, affected by a pulmonary disease, the seeds of which were planted on the night he was confined in the guard-house, and the signs of gradual decay evinced their symptoms. After Captain Williams–for such was the name of the captain of the Three Sisters–left the plantation, no person appeared to care for him, and on the second day he was attacked with a fever, and sent to one of the negro cabins, where an old mulatto woman took care of him and nursed him as well as her scanty means would admit. The fever continued for seven days, when he became convalescent and able to walk out; but feeling that he was an incumbrance to those around him, he packed his clothes into a little bundle and started for Charleston on foot. He reached that city after four days’ travelling over a heavy, sandy road, subsisting upon the charity of poor negroes, whom he found much more ready to supply his wants than the opulent planters. One night he, was compelled to make a pillow of his little bundle, and lay down in a corn-shed, where the planter, aroused by the noise of his dogs, which were confined in a kennel, came with a lantern and two negroes and discovered him. At first he ordered him off, and threatened to set the dogs upon him if he did not instantly comply with the order; but his miserable appearance affected the planter, and before he had gone twenty rods one of the negroes overtook him, and said his master had sent him to bring him back. He returned, and the negro made him a coarse bed in his cabin, and gave him some homony and milk.
His hopes to see Manuel had buoyed him up through every fatigue, but when he arrived, and was informed at the jail that Manuel had left three days before, his disappointment was extreme. A few days after he shipped as cabin-boy on board a ship ready for sea and bound to Liverpool. Scarcely half-way across, he was compelled to resign himself to the sick-list. The disease had struck deep into his system, and was rapidly wasting him away. The sailors, one by one in turns, watched over him with tenderness and care. As soon as the ship arrived, he was sent to the hospital, and there he breathed his last as Manuel entered the sick-chamber. We leave Manuel and a few of his shipmates following his remains to the last resting-place of man.
APPENDIX.
SINCE the foregoing was written, Governor Means, in his message to the Legislature of South Carolina, refers to the laws under which “colored seamen” are imprisoned. We make the subjoined extract, showing that he insists upon its being continued in force, on the ground of “self-preservation”–a right which ship-owners will please regard for the protection of their own interests:–
“I feel it my duty to call your attention to certain proceedings which have grown out of the enforcement of that law of our State which requires the Sheriff of Charleston to seize and imprison colored seamen who are brought to that port. You will remember that the British Consul addressed a communication to the legislature in December, 1850, on the subject of a modification of this law. A committee was appointed by the House and Senate to report upon it at the next session of the legislature. These committees reported adverse to any modification. On the 24th March, 1852, Manuel Pereira was imprisoned in accordance with the law alluded to. The vessel in which he sailed was driven into the port of Charleston in distress. This was looked upon as a favorable case upon which to make an issue, as so strong an element of sympathy was connected with it. Accordingly, a motion was made before Judge Withers for a writ of ‘habeas corpus,’ which was refused by him. These proceedings were instituted by the British Consul, it is said, under instructions from his government, to test the constitutionality of the Act. I think it here proper to state, that Pereira was at perfect liberty to depart at any moment that he could get a vessel to transport him beyond the limits of the State. In truth, in consideration of the fact that his coming into the State was involuntary, the Sheriff of Charleston, with his characteristic kindness, procured for him a place in a ship about to sail for Liverpool. Early in April, Pereira was actually released, and on his way to the ship, having himself signed the shipping articles, when, by interposition of the British Consul, he was again consigned to the custody of the sheriff. A few days after this, the British Consul insisted no longer on his detention, but voluntarily paid his passage to New York. This was looked upon as an abandonment of that case. The statement of Mr. Yates, together with the letter of the British Consul, are herewith transmitted.
“While these proceedings were pending, the Sheriff of Charleston had my instructions not to give up the prisoners even if a writ of habeas corpus had been granted. I considered that the ‘Act of 1844,’ entitled, ‘An Act more effectually to prevent negroes and other persons of color from entering into this State, and for other purposes,’ made it my duty to do so.
“On the 19th May, Reuben Roberts, a colored seaman, a native of Nassau, arrived in the steamer Clyde, from Baracoa. The Sheriff of Charleston, in conformity with the law of the State, which has been in force since 1823, arrested and lodged him in the district jail, where he was detained until the 26th of May, when, the Clyde being ready to sail, Roberts was put on board, and sailed the same day.
“On the 9th of June, a writ in trespass, for assault and false imprisonment, from the Federal Court, was served upon Sheriff Yates, laying the damage at $4000.
“The Act of 1844, I take it, was intended to prevent all interference on the part of any power on the face of the earth, with the execution of this police regulation, which is so essential to the peace and safety of our community. Had the legislature which passed it ever dreamed that the sheriff was to be subjected to the annoyance of being dragged before the Federal Court for doing his duty under a law of the State, I am sure it would have provided for his protection. As no such provision has been made for so unexpected a contingency, I recommend that you so amend this Act of 1844, that it may meet any case that may arise.
“It is certainly wrong to tolerate this interference with the laws enacted for the protection of our institution. In the general distribution of power between the Federal and State Governments, the right to make their own police regulations was clearly reserved to the States. In fact, it is nothing more nor less than the right of self-preservation-a right which is above all constitutions, and above all laws, and one which never was, nor never will be, abandoned by a people who are worthy to be free. It is a right which has never yet been attempted to be denied to any people, except to us.
“The complaint against this law is very strange, and the attempt to bring us in conflict with the General Government on account of it, is still more remarkable; when, so far from its being at variance with the laws of the United States, it is only requiring the State authorities to enforce an Act of Congress, approved February 28th, 1803, entitled, An Act to prevent the importation of certain persons into certain States, where, by the laws thereof, their importation is prohibited. By referring to this Act, you will see that the plaintiff in the action alluded to was prohibited by it from entering into this State. I deem it unnecessary, however, to enter fully into the argument. If any doubt should be entertained by you, as to its constitutionality, I beg leave to refer to the able opinion of the Hon. J. McPherson Berrien, delivered at the time he was Attorney-General of the United States, which I herewith send you.
“On the subject of the modification of this law, I am free to say, that when Her B. M.’s Government, through its consul, made a respectful request to our legislature to that effect, I was anxious that it should be made. It was with pleasure that I transmitted his first communication to the last legislature. I would have made a recommendation of its modification a special point in my first message, but that I thought it indelicate to do so, as the matter was already before the legislature, and committees had been appointed to report upon it. Another reason for the neglect of this recommendation, was the then excited state of party politics, which might have precluded the possibility of a calm consideration of the subject. But for the proceedings instituted in the premises, I would even now recommend a modification of the law, so as to require captains to confine their colored seamen to their vessels, and to prevent their landing under heavy penalties. For while I think the State has a perfect right to pass whatever laws on this subject it may deem necessary for its safety, yet the spirit of the age requires that while they should be so formed as to be adequate to our protection, they should be at the same time as little offensive as possible to other nations with whom we have friendly relations. But since an attempt has been made to defy our laws, and bring us in conflict with the Federal Government, on a subject upon which we are so justly sensitive, our own self-respect demands that we should not abate one jot or tittle of that law, which was enacted to protect us from the influence of ignorant incendiaries.”
We are under many obligations to Governor Means for his remarks upon this subject. We esteem his character too highly to entertain an idea that he would knowingly make an incorrect statement; but, with a knowledge of the facts, we can assure him that he was misled by those whom he depended upon for information. And also, though his name deserves to stand pre-eminent among the good men of Carolina, for recurring to that frightful state of things which exists in the Charleston prison, that he did not receive a correct statement in regard to it. In this want, his remarks lose much of their value. Subjects and grievances exist there which he should know most of, and yet he knows least, because he intrusts them to the caretakers, who make abuses their medium of profit.
Under the influence of that exceedingly suspicious, and yet exceedingly credulous characteristic of a people, few know the power that is working beneath the sunshine of South Carolina, and those who do, stand upon that slaveworn ostentation which considers it beneath notice.
We have no interest nor feeling beyond that of humanity, and a right to expose the mendacity of those who have power to exercise it over the prisoners in Charleston. That mendacity has existed too long for the honor of that community, and for the feelings of those who have suffered under it.
It may be true that this case was considered a favorable one to try the issue upon, but no elements of sympathy were sought by the consul. That functionary to whom the Governor has attributed “characteristic kindness,” said, in our presence, and we have the testimony of others to confirm what we say, that if Judge Withers had granted the habeas corpus, he would not have given up the prisoner, but rather gone to jail and suffered the same regimen with the prisoners. Had he tried the accommodations, he would have found the “profits” more than necessary to appease common hunger.
The Governor says, “Pereira was at liberty to depart at any moment that he could get a vessel to transport him beyond the limits of the State.” How are we to reconcile this with the following sentence, which appears in the next paragraph:–“While these proceedings were pending,” (meaning the action instituted by the consul to release the prisoner,) “the sheriff of Charleston had my instructions not to give up the prisoner, even if a writ of habeas corpus had been granted?” According to this, the sheriff assumed a power independent of and above the Governor’s prerogative. We have attempted to picture the force of this in our work, and to show that there are official abuses cloaked by an honorable dishonesty, which dignifies the business of the local factor and vendor of human property, and which should be stayed by the power of the Executive.
The singular fact presents itself, that while Judge Withers was deliberating upon the question of granting the “habeas corpus,” the proceedings pending, and the Governor’s instructions to the contrary before him, the sheriff takes it upon himself to smuggle the prisoner out of port. Now what was the object of this Secret and concerted movement? Was it “kindness” on the part of that functionary, who has grasped every pretence to enforce this law? We think not. The reader will not require any extended comments from us to explain the motive; yet we witnessed it, and cannot leave it without a few remarks.
It is well known that it has been the aim of that functionary, whose “characteristic kindness” has not failed to escape the Governor’s notice, to thwart the consul in all his proceedings. In this instance, he engaged the services of a “shipping master” as a pretext, and with him was about to send the man away when his presence was essential to test his right to the habeas corpus, and at this very time, more than two months wages, due him from the owners, lay in the hands of the consul, ready to be paid on his release.
The nefarious design speaks for itself.
The consul was informed of the proceeding, and very properly refused to submit to such a violation of authority, intended to annul his proceedings. He preferred to await the “test,” demanding the prisoner’s release through the proper authorities. That release, instead of being “a few days after this,” as the message sets forth, was-not effected until the fifteenth of May.
Let the Governor institute an inquiry into the treatment of these men by the officials, and the prison regimen, and he will find the truth of what we have said. Public opinion will not credit his award of “characteristic kindness” to those who set up a paltry pretext as an apology for their wrong-doing.
If men are to be imprisoned upon this singular construction of law, (which is no less than arming the fears of South Carolina,) is it any more than just to ask that she should pay for it, instead of imposing it upon innocent persons? Or, to say the least, to make such comfortable provision for them as is made in the port of Savannah, and give them what they pay for, instead of charging thirty cents a day for their board, and making twenty-two of that profit?
Had the Governor referred to the “characteristic kindness” of the jailer, his remarks would have been bestowed upon a worthy man, who has been a father to those unfortunates who chanced within the turn of his key.
In another part of his message, commenting upon the existence of disgraceful criminal laws, the management and wretched state of prisons, he says, “The attorney-general, at my request, has drawn up a report on the subject of prisons and prison discipline.” Now, if such were the facts, the reports would be very imperfect to be drawn up by one who never visits the prisons.
We are well aware that he called for this report, and further, that the attorney-general, in a letter to the sheriff, (of which we have a copy,) propounded numerous questions in regard to the jail, calling for a statement in full, particularly the amount of fees paid to certain functionaries; those charged to the State, and the average number of prisoners per month, from Sept. 1851, to Sept. 1852, &c. &c. That letter was transmitted to the jailer-a man whose character and integrity is well known, and above reproach in Charleston-with a request that he would make out his report. He drew up his report in accordance with the calendar and the facts, but that report was not submitted. Why was it not submitted? Simply because it showed the profit of starving men in South Carolina prisons.
We have the evidence in our possession, and can show the Executive that he has been misled. We only ask him to call for the original statement, made out in the jailer’s handwriting, and compare it with the calendar; and when he has done that, let us ask, Why the average of prisoners per month does not correspond? and why the enormous amount of fees accruing from upward of fifty “colored seamen,” imprisoned during the year, and entered upon the calendar “contrary to law,” was not included?
It is a very unhealthy state of things, to say the least; but as the sheriff considers it his own, perhaps we have no right to meddle with it.
All this clamor about the bad influence of “colored seamen” is kept up by a set of mendicant officials who harvest upon the fees, and falls to naught, when, at certain hours of the day during their imprisonment, they are allowed to associate with “bad niggers,” committed for criminal offences and sale. If their presence is “dangerous,” it certainly would be more dangerous in its connection with criminals of the feared class.
Take away the fees–the mercantile community will not murmur, and the official gentry will neither abuse nor trouble themselves about enforcing the law to imprison freemen.
THE END.