Manuel Pereira Or The Sovereign Rule of South Carolina Part 20

"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 d.o.g.g.i.ng 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 G.o.d! 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 a.s.sociate with negroes or n.o.body, for it would be the death of caste for a white woman, however mean, to a.s.sociate 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 pa.s.sed 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, a.s.serting that he heard the consul's voice in every pa.s.sing sound. Day after day the consul would call upon him and quiet his fears, rea.s.suring 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 sh.o.r.es 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 cla.s.s 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 dest.i.tute cla.s.s, 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 a.s.sumes 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 a.s.sault 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 munic.i.p.al 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 a.s.sessed for means to defray the expenses of the canva.s.s. 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 pa.s.ser-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; gla.s.ses 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 munic.i.p.al authorities themselves, but they are a.s.suredly responsible for its profanation. Appointed to guard the public morals, they are a.s.suredly 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 pa.s.sage, 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 pa.s.sengers, 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 pa.s.sengers, 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 G.o.d 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 pa.s.s 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 pa.s.s 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 G.o.d 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 pa.s.sage 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 sh.o.r.e. In the same dock was a ship taking in cargo and pa.s.sengers 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 circ.u.mstance occurred to her on entering a British North American port, many years ago. Here they sat recounting the many adventures through which they had pa.s.sed 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 x.x.x. 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 pa.s.sage 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.