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 fo............