CHAPTER XXIX. THE WOMAN WHO DELIBERATES IS LOST. "O North-wind blow strong with God's breath in twenty million men." Rev. John Weiss. ON "Loud wind, strong wind, sweeping o'er the mountains, N coming down to the breakfast-table one morning, Kenrick was delighted to encounter Vance, and asked, "What success?" 66 "I found in Natchez," was the reply, an old colored man who knew Davy and his wife. They removed to New York, it seems, some three years ago. I must push my inquiries further. The clew must not be dropped. The old man, my informant, was formerly a slave. He came into my room at the hotel, and showed me the scars on his back. Ah! I, too, could have showed scars, if I had deemed it prudent." "Cousin William," said Kenrick, "I wouldn't take the testimony of our own humane overseer as to slavery. I have studied the usages on other plantations. Let me show you a photograph which I look at when my antislavery rage wants kindling, which is not often." He produced the photograph of a young female, apparently a quarteroon, sitting with back exposed naked to the hips, her face so turned as to show an intelligent and rather handsome profile. The flesh was all welted, seamed, furrowed, and scarred, as if both by fire and the scourge. "There!” resumed Kenrick, "that I saw taken myself, and know it to be genuine. It is one out of It is one out of many I have collected. The photograph cannot lie. It will be terrible as the recording angel in reflecting slavery as this civil war will unearth it. What will the Carlyles and the Gladstones say to this? Will it make them falter, think you, in their Sadducean hoot against a noble people who are manfully fighting the great battle of humanity against such infernalism as this?" * "They would probably fall back on the doubter's privilege." "Yes, that's the most decent way of escape. But I would pin them with the sharp fact. That woman (her name was Margaret) belonged to the Widow Gillespie, on the Black River. Margaret had a nursing child, and, out of maternal tenderness, had disobeyed Mrs. Gillespie's orders to wean it. For this she was subjected to the punishment of the hand-saw. She was laid on her face, her clothes stripped up to around her neck, her hands and feet held down, and Mrs. Gillespie, sitting by, then paddled,' or stippled the exposed body with the hand-saw. She then had Margaret turned over, and, with heated tongs, attempted to grasp her nipples. The writhings of the victim foiled her purpose; but between the breasts the skin and flesh were horribly burned.” "A favorite remark," said Vance, " with our smug apologists of slavery, is, that an owner's interests will make him treat a slave well. Undoubtedly in many cases so it is. But I have generally found that human malignity, anger, or revenge is more than a match for human avarice. A man will often gratify his spite even at the expense of his pocket." Kenrick showed the photograph of a man with his back scarred as if by a shower of fire. "This poor fellow," said Kenrick, "shows the effects of the corn-husk punishment; not an unusual one on some plantations. The victim is stretched out on the ground, with hands and feet held down. Dry corn-husks are then lighted, and the burning embers are whipped off with a stick so as to fall in showers of live sparks on the naked back. Such is the patriarchal' system! Such the tender mercies bestowed on our man-servants and our maid-servants,' as that artful dodger, Jeff Davis, calls our plantation slaves." 6 "And yet," remarked Vance, "horrible as these things are, how small a part of the wrong of slavery is in the mere physical suffering inflicted!" "Yes, the crowning outrage is mental and moral.” "This war,” resumed Vance, "is not sectional, nor geographi * The names and the facts are real. See Harper's Weekly, July 4, 1863. cal, nor, in a party sense, political: it is a war of eternally antagonistic principles, - Belial against Gabriel." "I took up a Northern paper to-day," said Kenrick, "in which the writer pleads the necessity of slavery, because, he says, 'white men can't work in the rice-swamps.' Truly, a staggering argument! The whole rice production of the Unit ed States is only worth some four millions of dollars per annum ! A single factory in Lowell can beat that. And we are asked to base a national policy on such considerations!" Here the approach of guests led to a change of topic. “And how have your affairs prospered?" asked Vance. "Ah! cousin,” replied Kenrick, "I almost blush to tell you what an experience I've had." “Not fallen in love, I hope?” "If it isn't that, 't is something very near it. The lady is staying with Miss Tremaine. A Miss Perdita Brown. Onslow took me to see her." "And which is the favored admirer?" "Onslow, I fear. I'm not a lady's man, you see. Indeed, I never wished to be till now. Give me a few lessons, cousin. Teach me a little small-talk." "I must know something of the lady first." "To begin at the beginning," said Kenrick, "there can be no dispute as to her beauty. But there is a something in her manner that puzzles me. Is it lack of sincerity? Not that. Is it preoccupation of thought? Sometimes it seems that. And then some apt, flashing remark indicates that she has her wits on the alert. You must see her and help me read her. You visit Miss Laura?” "Yes. I'll do your bidding, Charles. How often have you seen this enchantress?" "Too often for my peace of mind: three times." "Is she a coquette?" "If one, she has the art to conceal art. There seems to be something on her mind more absorbing than the desire to fascinate. She's an unconscious beauty." Say a deep one. Shall we meet at Miss Tremaine's to-night?" “Yes; the moth knows he'll get singed, but flutter he must.” "Take comfort, Charles, in that of thought of Tennyson's, who tells us, 'That not a moth with vain desire Is shrivelled in a fruitless fire.'" The cousins parted. They had no sooner quitted the breakfast-room than Onslow entered. After a hasty meal, hẹ took his sword-belt and military-cap, and walked forth out of the hotel. As he passed Wakeman's shop, near by, for the sale of books and periodicals, he was attracted by a photograph in a small walnut frame in the window. Stopping to examine it, he uttered an exclamation of surprise, stepped into the shop, and said to Wakeman, "Where did you get that photograph?" "That was sent here with several others by the photographer. You'll find his name on the back." Onslow took the picture and left the shop, but did not notice that he was followed by a well-dressed gentleman with a cigar in his mouth. This individual had been for several days watching every passer-by who looked at that photograph. He now followed Onslow to the head-quarters of his regiment; put an inquiry to one of the members of the Captain's company, and then strolled away as if he had more leisure than he knew what to do with. But no sooner had he turned a corner, than he entered a carriage which was driven off at great speed. Not an hour had passed when a black man in livery put into Onslow's hands this note: "Will you come and dine with me at five to-day without ceremony? Please reply by the bearer. "Yours, C. RATCLIFF." What can he want? thought Onslow, somewhat gratified by such an attention from so important a leader. Presuming that the object merely was to ask some questions concerning military matters, the Captain turned to the man in livery, and said, "Tell Mr. Ratcliff I will come." Punctually at the hour of five Onslow ascended the marble steps of Ratcliff's stately house, rang the bell, and was ushered into a large and elegantly furnished drawing-room, the windows of which were heavily curtained so as to keep out the glare of the too fervid sunlight. Pictures and statues were disposed about the apartment, but Onslow, who had a genuine taste for art, could find nothing that he would covet for a private gallery of his own. Ratcliff entered, habited in a cool suit of grass-cloth. The light hues of his vest and neck-tie heightened the contrast of his somewhat florid complexion, which had now lost all the smoothness of youth. Self-indulgent habits had faithfully done their work in moulding his exterior. Portly and puffy, he looked much older than he really was. But in his manner of greeting Onslow there was much of that charm which renders the hospitality of a plantation lord so attractive. Throwing aside all that arrogance which would have made his overseers and tradespeople keep their distance, he welcomed Onslow like an old friend and an equal. 66 "You've a superb house here," said the ingenuous Captain. "T will do, considering that I sometimes occupy it only a month in the year,” replied Ratcliff. "I'm glad to say I only hire it. The house belonged to a Miss Aylesford, a Yankee heiress; then passed into the possession of a New York man, one Charlton; but I pay the rent into the coffers of the Confederate government. The property is confiscate." "Won't the Yankees retaliate ?" "We sha'n't allow them to." “After we've whipped Yankee-Doo-dle-dom, what then?" "Then a strong military government. Having our slaves to work for us, we shall become the greatest martial nation in the world. Our poor whites, now a weakness and a burden, we will convert into soldiers and Cossacks; excepting the artisan and trading classes, and them we must disfranchise." * "Can we expect aid from England?" asked Onslow. "Not open aid, but substantial aid nevertheless. Exeter Hall may grumble. The doctrinaires, the Newmans, Brights, * Mr. W. S. Grayson of Mississippi writes, in De Bow's Review (August, 1860): Civil liberty has been the theme of praise among men, and most wrongfully. This is the infatuation of our age." And Mr. George Fitzhugh of Virginia writes: "Men are never efficient in military matters, or in industrial pursuits, until wholly deprived of their liberty. Loss of liberty is no disgrace." |