another scene in southern life
in the city, a few miles from the plantation, a scene which too often affords those degrading pictures that disgrace a free and happy country, was being enacted. a low brick building, standing in an area protected by a high fence, surmounted with spikes and other dangerous projectiles, formed the place. the upper and lower windows of this building were strongly secured with iron gratings, and emitted the morbid air from cells scarcely large enough to contain human beings of ordinary size. in the rear, a sort of triangular area opened, along which was a line of low buildings, displaying single and double cells. some had iron rings in the floor; some had rings in the walls; and, again, others had rings over head. some of these confines of misery-for here men's souls were goaded by the avarice of our natures-were solitary; and at night, when the turmoil of the day had ceased, human wailings and the clank of chains might be heard breaking through the walls of this charnel-house. these narrow confines were filled with living beings-beings with souls, souls sold according to the privileges of a free and happy country,--a country that fills us with admiration of its greatness. it is here, o man, the tyrant sways his hand most! it is here the flesh and blood of the same maker, in chains of death, yearns for freedom.
we walk through the corridor, between narrow arches containing the abodes of misery, while our ears drink the sad melancholy that sounds in agitated throbs, made painful by the gloom and darkness. touching an iron latch, the door of a cell opens, cold and damp, as if death sat upon its walls; but it discloses no part of the inmate's person, and excites our sympathies still more. we know the unfortunate is there,--we hear the murmuring, like a death-bell in our ears; it is mingled with a dismal chaos of sound, piercing deep into our feelings. it tells us in terror how gold blasts the very soul of man-what a dark monster of cruelty he can become,--how he can forget the grave, and think only of his living self,--how he can strip reason of its right, making himself an animal with man for his food. see the monster seeking only for the things that can serve him on earth-see him stripping man of his best birth-right, see him the raving fiend, unconscious of his hell-born practices, dissevering the hope that by a fibre hangs over the ruins of those beings who will stand in judgment against him. his soul, like their faces, will be black, when theirs has been whitened for judgment in the world to come!
ascending a few steps, leading into a centre building-where the slave merchant is polished into respectability-we enter a small room at the right hand. several men, some having the appearance of respectable merchants, some dressed in a coarse, red-mixed homespun, others smoking cigars very leisurely, are seated at a table, upon which are several bottles and tumblers. they drank every few minutes, touched glasses, uttered the vilest imprecations. conspicuous among them is marco graspum: it is enough that we have before introduced him to the reader at marston's mansion. his dark peering eyes glisten as he sits holding a glass of liquor in one hand, and runs his fingers through his bristly hair with the other. "the depths of trade are beyond some men," he says, striking his hand on the table; then, catching up a paper, tears it into pieces. "only follow my directions; and there can be no missing your man," he continued, addressing one who sat opposite to him; and who up to that time had been puffing his cigar with great unconcern. his whole energies seemed roused to action at the word. after keeping his eyes fixed upon graspum for more than a minute, he replied, at the same time replenishing his cigar with a fresh one--
"yee'h sees, marco,--you'r just got to take that ar' say back, or stand an all-fired chaffing. you don't scar' this 'un, on a point a' business. if i hain't larned to put in the big pins, no fellow has. when ye wants to 'sap' a tall 'un, like marston, ye stands shy until ye thinks he's right for pulling, and then ye'll make a muffin on him, quicker. but, ye likes to have yer own way in gettin' round things, so that a fellow can't stick a pinte to make a hundred or two unless he weaves his way clean through the law-unless he understands mr. justice, and puts a double blinder on his eye. there's nothing like getting on the right side of a fellow what knows how to get on the wrong side of the law; and seeing how i've studied mr. justice a little bit better than he's studied his books, i knows just what can be done with him when a feller's got chink in his pocket. you can't buy 'em, sir, they're so modest; but you can coax 'em at a mighty cheaper rate-you can do that!" "and ye can make him feel as if law and his business warn't two and two," rejoined anthony romescos, a lean, wiry man, whose small indescribable face, very much sun-scorched, is covered with bright sandy hair, matted and uncombed. his forehead is low, the hair grows nearly to his eyebrows, profuse and red; his eyes wander and glisten with desperation; he is a merciless character. men fear him, dread him; he sets the law at defiance, laughs when he is told he is the cunningest rogue in the county. he owns to the fearful; says it has served him through many a hard squeeze; but now that he finds law so necessary to carry out villainy, he's taken to studying it himself. his dress is of yellow cotton, of which he has a short roundabout and loose pantaloons. his shirt bosom is open, the collar secured at the neck with a short black ribbon; he is much bedaubed with tobacco-juice, which he has deposited over his clothes for the want of a more convenient place. a gray, slouch hat usually adorns his head, which, in consequence of the thinking it does, needs a deal of scratching. reminding us how careful he is of his feet, he shows them ensconced in a pair of indian moccasins ornamented with bead-work; and, as if we had not become fully conscious of his power, he draws aside his roundabout, and there, beneath the waist of his pantaloons, is a girdle, to which a large hunting-knife is attached, some five inches of the handle protruding above the belt. "now, fellers, i tell ye what's what, ye'r point-up at bragin'; but ye don't come square up to the line when there's anything to put through what wants pluck. 'tain't what a knowin' 'un like i can do; it's just what he can larn to be with a little training in things requiring spunk. i'm a going to have a square horse, or no horse; if i don't, by the great davy, i'll back out and do business on my own account,--anthony romescos always makes his mark and then masters it. if ye don't give anthony a fair showin', he'll set up business on his own account, and pocket the comins in. now! thar's dan bengal and his dogs; they can do a thing or two in the way of trade now and then; but it requires the cunnin as well as the plucky part of a feller. it makes a great go when they're combined, though,--they ala's makes sure game and slap-up profit."
"hold a stave, anthony," interrupted a grim-visaged individual who had just filled his glass with whiskey, which he declared was only to counteract the effect of what he had already taken. he begs they will not think him half so stupid as he seems, says he is always well behaved in genteel society, and is fully convinced from the appearance of things that they are all gentlemen. he wears a semi-bandittical garb, which, with his craven features, presents his character in all its repulsiveness. "you needn't reckon on that courage o' yourn, old fellow; this citizen can go two pins above it. if you wants a showin', just name the mark. i've seed ye times enough,--how ye would not stand ramrod when a nigger looked lightning at ye. twice i seed a nigger make ye show flum; and ye darn't make the cussed critter toe the line trim up, nohow," he mumbles out, dropping his tumbler on the table, spilling his liquor. they are graspum's "men;" they move as he directs-carry out his plans of trade in human flesh. through these promulgators of his plans, his plots, his desperate games, he has become a mighty man of trade. they are all his good fellows-they are worth their weight in gold; but he can purchase their souls for any purpose, at any price! "ah, yes, i see-the best i can do don't satisfy. my good fellows, you are plum up on business, do the square thing; but you're becomin' a little too familiar. doing the nigger business is one thing, and choosing company's another. remember, gentlemen, i hold a position in society, i do," says graspum, all the dignity of his dear self glowing in his countenance.
"i see! there's no spoilin' a gentleman what's got to be one by his merits in trade. thar's whar ye takes the shine out of us. y'er gentleman gives ye a right smart chance to walk into them ar' big bugs what's careless,--don't think yer comin' it over 'em with a sort o' dignity what don't 'tract no s'picion." rejoined romescos, taking up his hat, and placing it carelessly on his head, as if to assure graspum that he is no better than the rest.
"comprehend me, comprehend me, gentlemen! there can, and must be, dignity in nigger trading; it can be made as honourable as any other branch of business. for there is an intricacy about our business requiring more dignity and ability than general folks know. you fellers couldn't carry out the schemes, run the law down, keep your finger on people's opinion, and them sort o' things, if i didn't take a position in society what 'ud ensure puttin' ye straight through. south's the place where position's worth somethin'; and then, when we acts independent, and don't look as if we cared two toss-ups, ah!"
"i wonder you don't set up a dignity shop, and go to selling the article;-might have it manufactured to sell down south."
"ah, romescos," continued graspum, "you may play the fool; but you must play it wisely to make it profitable. here, position puts law at defiance!-here it puts croakers over humanity to rest-here, when it has money, it makes lawyers talk round the points, get fat among themselves, fills the old judge's head with anything; so that he laughs and thinks he don't know nothin'. listen to what i'm goin' to say, because you'll all make somethin' out on't. i've just got the dignity to do all; and with the coin to back her up, can safe every chance. when you fellers get into a snarl running off a white 'un, or a free nigger, i has to bring out the big talk to make it seem how you didn't understand the thing. 'tain't the putting the big on, but it's the keepin' on it on. you'd laugh to see how i does it; it's the way i keeps you out of limbo, though."
we have said these men were graspum's "men;" they are more-they are a band of outlaws, who boast of living in a free country, where its institutions may be turned into despotism. they carry on a system of trade in human bodies; they stain the fairest spots of earth with their crimes. they set law at defiance-they scoff at the depths of hell that yawn for them,--the blackness of their villainy is known only in heaven. earth cares little for it; and those familiar with the devices of dealers in human bodies shrink from the shame of making them known to the world. there was a discontent in the party, a clashing of interests, occasioned by the meagre manner in which graspum had divided the spoils of their degradation. he had set his dignity and position in society at a much higher value than they were willing to recognise,--especially when it was to share the spoils in proportion. dan bengal, so called from his ferocity of character, was a celebrated dog-trainer and negro-hunter, "was great in doing the savager portion of negro business." this, romescos contended, did not require so much cunning as his branch of the business-which was to find "loose places," where doubtful whites see out remnants of the indian race, and free negroes could be found easy objects of prey; to lay plots, do the "sharp," carry out plans for running all free rubbish down south, where they would sell for something.
"true! it's all true as sunshine," says romescos; "we understand mr. graspum inside and out. but ye ain't paid a dime to get me out of any scrape. i was larned to nigger business afore i got into the 'tarnal thing; and when i just gits me eye on a nigger what nobody don't own, i comes the sly over him-puts him through a course of nigger diplomacy. the way he goes down to the mississippi is a caution to nigger property!"
he has enlisted their attention, all eyes are set upon him, every voice calls out to know his process. he begs they will drink round; they fill their glasses, and demand that he will continue the interest of his story.
"my plans are worth a fortune to those who follow the business," he says, giving his glass a twirl as he sets it upon the table, and commences--
"born 'cute, you see; trade comes natural. afore a free 'un don't know it, i has him bonded and tucked off for eight or nine hundred dollars, slap-up, cash and all. and then, ye sees, it's worth somethin' in knowin' who to sell such criturs too-so that the brute don't git a chance to talk about it without getting his back troubled. and then, it requires as much knowin' as a senator's got just to fix things as smooth so nobody won't know it; and just like ye can jingle the coin in yer pocket, for the nigger, what everybody's wonderin' where he can be gone to. i tell ye what, it takes some stameny to keep the price of a prime feller in your pocket, and wonder along with the rest where the rascal can be. if you'd just see bob osmand doe it up, you'd think his face was made for a methodist deacon in camp meeting-time. the way he comes it when he wants to prove a free nigger's a runaway, would beat all the disciples of blackstone between here and old kentuck. and then, bob's any sort of a gentleman, what you don't get in town every day, and wouldn't make a bad senator, if he'd bin in congress when the compromise was settled upon,--'cos he can reason right into just nothin' at all. ye see it ain't the feelings that makes a feller a gentleman in our business, it's knowing the human natur o' things; how to be a statesman, when ye meets the like, how to be a gentleman, and talk polite things, and sich like; how to be a jolly fellow, an' put the tall sayings into the things of life; and when ye gets among the lawyers, to know all about the pintes of the law, and how to cut off the corners, so they'll think ye're bin a parish judge. and then, when ye comes before the squire, just to talk dignity to him-tell him where the law is what he don't seem to comprehend. you've got to make a right good feller of the squire by sticking a fee under his vest-pocket when he don't obsarve it. and then, ye know, when ye make the squire a right good feller, you must keep him to the point; and when there's any swarin' to be done, he's just as easily satisfied as the law. it's all business, you see; and thar's just the same kind a thing in it; because profit rules principle, and puts a right smart chance o' business into their hands without troubling their consciences. but then, bob ain't got the cunnin' in him like i-nor he can't "rope-in on the sly,"-knock down and drag out, and just tell a whole possee to come on, as i do. and that's what ye don't seem to come at, graspum," said romescos, again filling his glass, and drawing a long black pipe from his pocket prepares it for a smoke.
"now, the trouble is, you all think you can carry out these matters on your own hook; but it's no go, and you'll find it so. it's a scheme that must have larger means at the head of it; and each man's rights must be stipulated, and paid according to his own enterprise. but this discontent is monstrous and injurious, and if continued will prove unprofitable. you see, fellers, you've no responsibility, and my position is your protection, and if you don't get rich you must not charge the blame to me; and then just see how you live now to what you did when ranging the piny woods and catching a stray nigger here and there, what didn't hardly pay dog money. there's a good deal in the sport of the thing, too; and ye know it amounts to a good deal to do the gentleman and associate with big folks, who puts the business into one's hands, by finding out who's got lean purses and prime niggers," rejoined graspum, very coolly.
"ah, yes; that's the way ye comes it over these haristocrats, by doin' the modest. now, graspum, 'tain't no trouble to leak a sap like that lorenzo, and make his friends stand the blunt after we've roped him into your fixings," replied romescos.
"no, no; not a bit of it," resounded several voices. "we do all the dragwork with the niggers, and graspum gets the tin."
"but he pays for the drink. come, none of this bickering; we must agree upon business, and do the thing up brown under the old system," interrupted another.
"hold! close that bread trap o' yourn," romescos shouts at the top of his voice. "you're only a green croaker from the piny woods, where gophers crawl independent; you ain't seen life on the borders of texas. fellers, i can whip any man in the crowd,--can maker the best stump speech, can bring up the best logic; and can prove that the best frightenin' man is the best man in the nigger business. now, if you wants a brief sketch of this child's history, ye can have it." here romescos entered into an interesting account of himself. he was the descendant of a good family, living in the city of charleston; his parents, when a youth, had encouraged his propensities for bravery. without protecting them with that medium of education which assimilates courage with gentlemanly conduct, carrying out the nobler impulses of our nature, they allowed him to roam in that sphere which produces its ruffians. at the age of fifteen he entered a counting-room, when his quick mercurial temperament soon rendered him expert at its minor functions. three years had hardly elapsed when, in a moment of passion, he drew his dirk, (a weapon he always carried) and, in making a plunge at his antagonist, inflicted a wound in the breast of a near friend. the wound was deep, and proved fatal. for this he was arraigned before a jury, tried for his life. he proved the accident by an existing friendship-he was honourably acquitted. his employer, after reproaching him for his proceedings, again admitted him into his employment. such, however, was his inclination to display the desperado, that before the expiration of another year he killed a negro, shot two balls at one of his fellows, one of which was well nigh proving fatal, and left the state. his recklessness, his previous acts of malignity, his want of position, all left him little hope of escaping the confines of a prison. fleeing to parts unknown, his absence relieved the neighbourhood of a responsibility. for a time, he roamed among farmers and drovers in the mountains of tennessee; again he did menial labour, often forced to the direst necessity to live. one day, when nearly famished, he met a slave-driver, conducting his coffle towards the mississippi, to whom he proffered his services. the coarse driver readily accepted them; they proceeded on together, and it was not long before they found themselves fitting companions. the one was desperate-the other traded in desperation. an ardent nature, full of courage and adventure, was a valuable acquisition to the dealer, who found that he had enlisted a youngster capable of relieving him of inflicting that cruelty so necessary to his profession. with a passion for inflicting torture, this youth could now gratify it upon those unfortunate beings of merchandise who were being driven to the shambles: he could gloat in the exercise of those natural propensities which made the infliction of pain a pleasant recreation. in the trade of human flesh all these cruel traits became valuable; they enabled him to demand a good price for his services. initiated in all the mysteries of the trade, he was soon entrusted with gangs of very considerable extent; then he made purchases, laid plans to entrap free negroes, performed the various intricacies of procuring affidavits with which to make slave property out of free flesh. nature was nature, and what was hard in him soon became harder; he could crib "doubtful white stuff" that was a nuisance among folks, and sell it for something he could put in his pocket. in this way romescos accumulated several hundred dollars; but avarice increased, and with it his ferocity. it belonged to the trade, a trade of wanton depravity. he became the terror of those who assumed to look upon a negro's sufferings with sympathy, scoffing at the finer feelings of mankind. twice had his rapacity been let loose-twice had it nearly brought him to the gallows, or to the tribunal of judge lynch. and now, when completely inured in the traffic of human flesh,--that traffic which transposes man into a demon, his progress is checked for a while by a false step.
it was this; and this only to the deep disgrace of the freest and happiest country on earth. a poor orphan girl, like many of her class in our hospitable slave world, had been a mere cast-off upon the community. she knew nothing of the world, was ignorant, could neither read nor write,--something quite common in the south, but seldom known in new england. thus she became the associate of depraved negroes, and again, served romescos as a victim. not content with this, after becoming tired of her, he secured her in the slave-pen of one of his fellow traders. here he kept her for several weeks, closely confined, feeding her with grits. eventually "running" her to vicksburg, he found an accomplice to sign a bill of sale, by which he sold her to a notorious planter, who carried her into the interior. the wretched girl had qualities which the planter saw might, with a little care, be made extremely valuable in the new orleans market,--one was natural beauty. she was not suitable property for the agricultural department of either a cotton or sugar plantation, nor was she "the stripe" to increase prime stock; hence she must be prepared for the general market. when qualified according to what the planter knew would suit the fancy market, she was conveyed to new orleans, a piece of property bright as the very brightest, very handsome, not very intelligent,--just suited to the wants of bidders.
here, at the shambles in the crescent city, she remained guarded, and for several weeks was not allowed to go beyond the door-sill; after which a sale was effected of her with the keeper of a brothel, for the good price of thirteen hundred dollars. in this sink of iniquity she remained nearly two years. fearing the ulterior consequences, she dared not assert her rights to freedom, she dared not say she was born free in a free country. her disappearance from the village in which she had been reared caused some excitement; but it soon reduced itself to a very trifling affair. indeed, white trash like this was considered little else than rubbish, not worth bringing up respectably. and while suspicion pointed to romescos, as the person who could account for her mysterious disappearance, such was the fear of his revenge that no one dared be the accuser. quietly matters rested, poor virtue was mean merchandise, had its value, could be bought and sold-could be turned to various uses, except enlisting the sympathies of those who study it as a market commodity. a few days passed and all was hushed; no one enquired about the poor orphan, martha johnson. in the hands of her creole owner, who held her as a price for licentious purposes, she associated with gentlemen of polite manners-of wealth and position. even this, though profane, had advantages, which she employed for the best of purposes; she learned to read and to write,--to assimilate her feelings with those of a higher class. society had degraded her, she had not degraded herself. one night, as the promiscuous company gathered into the drawing-room, she recognised a young man from her native village; the familiar face inspired her with joy, her heart leaped with gladness; he had befriended her poor mother-she knew he had kind feelings, and would be her friend once her story was told. the moments passed painfully; she watched him restlessly through the dance,--sat at his side. still he did not recognise her,--toilet had changed her for another being; but she had courted self-respect rather than yielded to degradation. again she made signs to attract his attention; she passed and repassed him, and failed. have i thus changed, she thought to herself.
at length she succeeded in attracting his attention; she drew him aside, then to her chamber. in it she disclosed her touching narrative, unfolded her sorrows, appealed to him with tears in her eyes to procure her freedom and restore her to her rights. her story enlisted the better feelings of a man, while her self-respect, the earnestness with which she pleaded her deliverance, and the heartlessness of the act, strongly rebuked the levity of those who had made her an orphan outcast in her own village. she was then in the theatre of vice, surrounded by its allurements, consigned to its degradation, a prey to libertinism-yet respecting herself. the object of his visit among the denizens was changed to a higher mission, a duty which he owed to his moral life,--to his own manliness. he promised his mediation to better her eventful and mysterious life, to be a friend to her; and nobly did he keep his promise. on the following day he took measures for her rescue, and though several attempts were made to wrest her from him, and the mendacity of slave-dealers summoned to effect it, he had the satisfaction of seeing her restored to her native village,--to freedom, to respectability.
we withhold the details of this too true transaction, lest we should be classed among those who are endeavouring to create undue excitement. the orphan girl we here refer to was married to a respectable mechanic, who afterwards removed to cincinnati, and with his wife became much respected citizens.
proceedings were after some delay commenced against romescos, but,--we trust it was not through collusion with officials-he escaped the merited punishment that would have been inflicted upon him by a new england tribunal. again he left the state, and during his absence it is supposed he was engaged in nefarious practices with the notorious murrel, who carried rapine and death into the unoffending villages of the far west. however, be this as it may, little was known of him for several years, except in some desperate encounter. the next step in his career of desperation known, was joining a band of guerillos led by one of the most intrepid captains that infested the borders of mexico, during the internal warfare by which her texan provinces struggled for independence. freebooters, they espoused the texan cause because it offered food for their rapacity, and through it they became formidable and desperate foes to the enemy. they were the terror of the ranchoes, the inhabitants fled at their approach; their pillage, rapine, and slaughtering, would stain the annals of barbarous africa. they are buried, let us hope for the name of a great nation, that they may remain beneath the pale of oblivion.
in their incursions, as mounted riflemen, they besieged villages, slaughtered the inhabitants, plundered churches, and burned dwellings; they carried off captive females, drove herds of cattle to distant markets. through the auspices of this band, as is now well known, many young females were carried off and sold into slavery, where they and their offspring yet remain. while pursuing this nefarious course of life, romescos accumulated more than twenty thousand dollars; and yet,--though ferocity increased with the daring of his profession,--there was one impulse of his nature, deeply buried, directing his ambition. amid the dangers of war, the tumult of conflict, the passion for daring-this impulse kept alive the associations of home,--it was love! in early life he had formed an attachment for a beautiful young lady of his native town; it had ripened with his years; the thoughts of her, and the hope of regaining her love if he gained wealth, so worked upon his mind that he resolved to abandon the life of a guerillo, and return home. after an absence of fourteen years he found the object of his early love,--that woman who had refused to requite his affection,--a widow, having buried her husband, a gentleman of position, some months previous.
romescos had money,--the man was not considered; he is not considered where slavery spreads its vices to corrupt social life. he had been careful to keep his business a profound secret, and pressing his affections, soon found the object of his ambition keenly sensitive to his advances. rumour recounted his character with mystery and suspicion; friends remonstrated, but in vain; they were united despite all opposition, all appeals. for a time he seemed a better man, the business he had followed harassed his mind, seeming to haunt him, and poison his progress. he purchased a plantation on the banks of the santee; for once resolved to pursue an honest course, to be a respectable citizen, and enjoy the quiet of home.
a year passed: he might have enjoyed the felicity of domestic life, the affections of a beautiful bride; but the change was too sudden for his restless spirit. he was not made to enjoy the quiet of life, the task stood before him like a mountain without a pass, he could not wean himself from the vices of a marauder. he had abused the free offerings of a free country, had set law at defiance; he had dealt in human flesh, and the task of resistance was more than the moral element in his nature could effect. violations of human laws were mere speculations to him; they had beguiled him, body and soul. he had no apology for violating personal feeling; what cared he for that small consideration, when the bodies of men, women, and children could be sacrificed for that gold which would give him position among the men of the south. if he carried off poor whites, and sold them into slavery, he saw no enormity in the performance; the law invested him with power he made absolute. society was chargeable with all his wrongs, with all his crimes, all his enormities. he had repeatedly told it so, pointing for proof to that literal observance of the rule by which man is made mere merchandise. society had continued in its pedantic folly, disregarding legal rights, imposing no restraints on the holder of human property, violating its spirit and pride by neglecting to enforce the great principles of justice whereby we are bound to protect the lives of those unjustly considered inferior beings. thus ends a sketch of what romescos gave of his own career.
we now find him associated with the desperadoes of slave-dealing, in the scene we have presented. after romescos had related what he called the romance of his life,--intended, no doubt, to impress the party with his power and intrepidity, and enable him to set a higher value upon his services,--he lighted a pipe, threw his hat upon the floor, commenced pacing up and down the room, as if labouring under deep excitement. and while each one seemed watching him intently, a loud knocking was heard at the door,--then the baying of blood-hounds, the yelps of curs, mingling with the murmurs of those poor wretches confined in the cells beneath. then followed the clanking of chains, cries, and wailings, startling and fearful.
dan bengal sprang to the door, as if conscious of its import. a voice demanded admittance; and as the door opened bengal exclaimed, "halloo!-here's nath nimrod: what's the tune of the adventure?"
a short, stout man entered, dressed in a coarse homespun hunting dress, a profuse black beard and moustache nearly covering his face. "i is'nt so bad a feller a'ter all-is i?" he says, rushing forward into the centre of the room, followed by four huge hounds. they were noble animals, had more instinctive gentleness than their masters, displayed a knowledge of the importance of the prize they had just gained.
"hurrah for nath! hurrah! hurrah! hurrah, for nath! you got him, nath-did'nt ye?" resounded from several tongues, and was followed by a variety of expressions highly complimentary to his efficiency.
romescos, however, remained silent, pacing the floor unconcerned, except in his own anxiety-as if nothing had occurred to disturb him. advancing to the table, the new visitor, his face glowing with exultation, held forth, by the crispy hair, the blanched and bloody head of an unfortunate negro who had paid the penalty of the state's allowance for outlaws. "there: beat that, who can? four hundred dollars made since breakfast;" he cries out at the top of his voice. they cast a measured look at the ghastly object, as if it were a precious ornament, much valued for the price it would bring, according to law. the demon expresses his joy, descants on his expertness and skill, holds up his prize again, turns it round, smiles upon it as his offering, then throws it into the fire place, carelessly, like a piece of fuel. the dogs spring upon it, as if the trophy was for their feast; but he repulses them; dogs are not so bad after all-the canine is often the better of the two-the morsel is too precious for canine dogs,--human dogs must devour it. "there is nothing like a free country, nothing; and good business, when it's well protected by law," says nimrod, seating himself at the table, filling a glass, bowing to his companions, drinking to the health of his friends. he imagines himself the best fellow of the lot. taking graspum by the hand, he says, "there is a clear hundred for you, old patron!" pulls an executive proclamation from his pocket, and points to where it sets forth the amount of reward for the outlaw-dead or alive. "i know'd whar the brute had his hole in the swamp," he continues: "and i summed up the resolution to bring him out. and then the gal o' ginral brinkle's, if i could pin her, would be a clear fifty more, provided i could catch her without damage, and twenty-five if the dogs havocked her shins. there was no trouble in getting the fifty, seeing how my dogs were trained to the point and call. taste or no taste, they come square off at the word. to see the critters trace a nigger, you'd think they had human in them; they understands it so! but, i tell you what, it's one thing to hunt a gal nigger, and another to run down an outlaw what has had two or three years in the swamp. the catching him's not much, but when ye have to slide the head off, all the pious in yer natur comes right up to make yer feelings feel kind a' softish. however, the law protects ye, and the game being only a nigger, different rules and things govern one's feelings."
bengal interrupts by laconically insinuating-raising his moody face, and winking at graspum-that it was all moonshine to talk about trouble in that kind of business; "it's the very highest of exhilarating sport!" he concludes emphatically.
"dan!" returns the other, with a fierce stare, as he seizes the bottle and is about to enjoy a glass of whisky uninvited; "let your liquor stop your mouth. i set the whole pack upon the trail at daylight, and in less than two hours they came upon him, bolted him, and put him to the river. the leader nabbed him about half way across, but the chap, instead of giving in, turned and fought like a hero. twice i thought he would whip the whole pack, but the way they made the rags fly warn't nobody's business. well, i just come up with him as he plunged into the stream, lifts old sure mark, as gives him about a dozen plugs; and then the old feller begged just so, you'd thought he was a christian pleadin' forgiveness at the last moment. but, when i seizes him and gives him three or four levellers with the butt of the rifle, ye never saw a sarpent plunge, and struggle, and warp so. says i, 'it's no use, old feller,--yer might as well give her up;' and the way his eyes popped, just as if he expected i war'nt goin to finish him. i tell ye, boys, it required some spunk about then, for the critter got his claws upon me with a death grip, and the dogs ripped him like an old corn stalk, and would'nt keep off. and then there was no fracturin his skull; and seeing how he was overpowering me, i just seizes him by the throat and pops his head off quicker than a chinese executioner."
the author has given the language of the slave-hunter who related the case personally.
"now, thar' war'nt so much in takin' the gal, cos jist when she seed the dogs comin', the critter took to tree and gin right up: but when i went to muzlin' on her, so she could'nt scream, then she gets saucy; and i promised to gin her bricks,--which, fellers, i reckon yer must take a hand in so the brute won't wake the neighbours; and i'll do'e it afore i sleeps," said nimrod, getting up from the table and playfully touching romescos upon the arm. "i see ye ain't brightened to-day--graspum's share don't seem to suit yer, old feller; ah! ah!!" he continued.
"just put another ten per cent. upon the out-lining, and running free 'uns, and i'll stand flint," said romescos, seeming to be acted upon by a sudden change of feelings, as he turned to graspum, with a look of anxiety.
"very well," returned graspum. "yer see, there's that marston affair to be brought to a point; and his affairs are just in such a fix that he don't know what's what, nor who's who. ther'll have to be some tall swearing done in that case afore it's brought to the hammer. that cunning of yours, romescos, will just come into play in this case. it'll be just the thing to do the crooked and get round the legal points." thus graspum, with the dignity and assurance of a gentleman, gave his opinion, drank with his companions, and withdrew for the night.
romescos, bengal, and nimrod, soon after descended into the vaults below, followed by a negro bearing a lantern. here they unbolted one of the cells, dragged forth a dejected-looking mulatto woman, her rags scarcely covering her nakedness. the poor wretch, a child born to degradation and torture, whose cries were heard in heaven, heaved a deep sigh, then gave vent to a flood of tears. they told how deep was her anguish, how she struggled against injustice, how sorrow was burning her very soul. the outpourings of her feelings might have aroused the sympathies of savage hearts; but the slave monsters were unmoved. humbleness, despair, and even death, sat upon her very countenance; hope had fled her, left her a wreck for whom man had no pity. and though her prayers ascended to heaven, the god of mercy seemed to have abandoned her to her tormentors. she came forward trembling and reluctantly, her countenance changed; she gave a frowning look at her tormentors, wild and gloomy, shrank back into the cell, the folds of straight, black hair hanging about her shoulders.
"come out here!" nimrod commands in an angry tone; then, seizing her by the arm, dragged her forth, and jerked her prostrate on the ground. here, like as many fiends in human form, the rest fell upon her, held her flat to the floor by the hands and feet, her face downwards, while nimrod, with a raw hide, inflicted thirty lashes on her bare back. her cries and groans, as she lay writhing, the flesh hanging in quivering shreds, and lifting with the lash,--her appeals for mercy, her prayers to heaven, her fainting moans as the agony of her torture stung into her very soul, would have touched a heart of stone. but, though her skin had not defiled her in the eyes of the righteous, there was none to take pity on her, nor to break the galling chains; no! the punishment was inflicted with the measured coolness of men engaged in an every-day vocation. it was simply the right which a democratic law gave men to become lawless, fierce in the conspiracy of wrong, and where the legal excitement of trafficking in the flesh and blood of one another sinks them unconsciously into demons.
