The benevolent gentleman is sorry; but then the thing happens every day! One sees girls and mothers crying at these sales always! It can't be helped, &c.; and he walks off with his acquisition in another direction. Two days after the lawyer of the Christian firm of B. and Co., New York, sent on their money to them. On the reverse of that draft, so obtained, let them write these words of the great Paymaster, to whom they shall make up their account in a future day:-" When he maketh inquisition for blood, he forgetteth not the cry of the humble!" CH. XXXI.-THE MIDDLE PASSAGE. "Thou art of purer eyes than to behold evil, and canst not look upon iniquity wherefore lookest thou upon them that deal treacherously, and holdest thy tongue when the wicked devoureth the man that is more righteous than he?"-Hab. i. 13. On the lower part of a small mean boat, on the Red River, Tom sat -chains on his wrists, chains on his feet, and a weight heavier than chains lay on his heart. All had faded from his sky-moon and star; all had passed by him, as the trees and banks were now passing, to return no more. Kentucky home, with wife and children, and indulgent owners; St. Clare home, with all its refinements and splendours; the golden head of Eva, with its saint-like eyes; the proud, gay, handsome, seeming careless, yet ever-kind St. Clare; hours of ease and indulgent leisure-all gone! and in place thereof, what remains? It is one of the bitterest apportionments of a lot of slavery, that the negro, sympathetic and assimilative, after acquiring, in a refined family, the tastes and feelings which form the atmosphere of such a place, is not the less liable to become the bond-slave of the coarsest and most brutal-just as a chair or table, which once decorated the superb saloon, comes at last, battered and defaced, to the bar-room of some filthy tavern, or some low haunt of vulgar debauchery. The great difference is, that the table and chair cannot feel, and the man can; for even a legal enactment that he shall be "taken, reputed, adjudged in law, to be a chattel personal," cannot blot out his soul, with its own private little world of memories, hopes, loves, fears, and desires. Mr. Simon Legree, Tom's master, had purchased slaves at one place and another, in New Orleans, to the number of eight, and driven them, handcuffed, in couples of two and two, down to the good steamer Pirate, which lay at the levee, ready for a trip up the Red River. Having got them fairly on board, and the boat being off, he came round, with that air of efficiency which ever characterised him, to take a review of them. Stopping opposite to Tom, who had been attired for sale in his best broadcloth suit, with well-starched linen and shining boots, he briefly expressed himself as follows: "Stand up. Tom stood up. "Take off that stock!' and as Tom, encumbered by his fetters, proceeded to do it, he assisted him, by pulling it, with no gentle hand, from his neck, and putting it in his pocket. 242 MR. SIMON LEGREE. Legrec now turned to Tom's trunk, which, previous to this, he had been ransacking, and, taking from it a pair of old pantaloons and a dilapidated coat, which Tom had been wont to put on about his stablework, he said, liberating Tom's hands from the handcuffs, and pointing to a recess in among the boxes 66 There," said the former, throwing him a pair of coarse, stout shoes, such as were common among the slaves, "put these on." In Tom's hurried exchange he had not forgotten to transfer his cherished Bible to his pocket. It was well he did so; for Mr. Legree, having refitted Tom's handcuffs, proceeded deliberately to investigate the contents of his pockets. He drew out a silk handkerchief, and put it into his own pocket. Several little trifles, which Tom had treasured, chiefly because they had amused Eva, he looked upon with a contemptuous grunt, and tossed them over his shoulder into the river. Tom's Methodist hymn-book, which, in his hurry, he had forgotten, he now held up and turned over. 66 Humph! pious, to be sure. So, what's yer name ?—you belong to the Church, eh?" "Yes, mas'r," said Tom, firmly. 66 Well, I'll soon have that out of you. I have none of yer bawling, praying, singing niggers on my place; so remember. Now, mind yourself," he said, with a stamp and a fierce glance of his grey eye, directed at Tom," I'm your Church now! You understand-you've got to be as I say." Something within the silent black man answered No! and, as if repeated by an invisible voice, came the words of an old prophetic scroll, as Eva had often read them to him-" Fear not; for I have redeemed thee. I have called thee by my name. Thou art MINE!" But Simon Legree heard no voice. That voice is one he never shall hear. He only glared for a moment on the downcast face of Tom, and walked off. He took Tom's trunk, which contained a very neat and abundant wardrobe, to the forecastle, where it was soon surrounded by various hands of the boat. With much laughing, at the expense of niggers who tried to be gentlemen, the articles very readily were sold to one another, and the empty trunk finally put up at auction. It was a good joke, they all thought, especially to see how Tom looked after his things, as they were going this way and that; and then the auction of the trunk, that was funnier than all, and occasioned abundant witticisms. This little affair being over, Simon sauntered up again to his property. "Now, Tom, I've relieved you of any extra baggage, you see. Take ighty good care of them clothes. It'll be long enough before you get more. go in for making niggers careful; one suit has to do for one year, on my place." Simon next walked up to the place where Emmeline was sitting, chained to another woman. "Well, my dear," he said, chucking her under the chin, “keep up your spirits.' The involuntary look of horror, fright, and aversion with which the girl regarded him, did not escape his eye. He frowned fiercely. "None o' your shines, gal! You's got to keep a pleasant face when I speak to ye-d'ye hear? And you, you old yellow poco moonshine!" he said, giving a shove to the mulatto woman to whom Emmeline was chained, "don't you carry that sort of face! You's got to look chipper, I tell yer!" 66 I say, all on ye," he said, retreating a pace or two back, “look at me-look at me-look me right in the eye-straight, now!" said he, stamping his foot at every pause. As, by a fascination, every eye was now directed to the glaring greenish-grey eye of Simon. "Now," said he, doubling his great, heavy fist into something resembling a blacksmith's hammer, "d'ye see this fist? Heft it!" he said, bringing it down on Tom's hand. "Look at these yer bones! Well, I tell ye this yer fist has got as hard as iron knocking down niggers. 1 never see the nigger yet I couldn't bring down with one crack," said he, bringing his fist down so near to the face of Tom that he winked and drew back. "I don't keep none o' yer cussed overseers; I does my own overseering; and I tell you, things is seen to. You's every one on ye got to toe the mark, I tell ye; quick, straight-the moment I speak. That's the way to keep in with me. You won't find no soft spot in me, nowhere. So, now, mind yourselves; for I don't show no mercy!" The women involuntarily drew in their breath, and the whole gang sat with downcast, dejected faces. Meanwhile, Simon turned on his heel, and marched up to the bar of the boat for a dram. "That's the way I begin with my niggers," he said to a gentlemanly man who had stood by him during his speech. "It's my system to begin strong-just let'em know what to expect.' "Indeed!" said the stranger, looking upon him with the curiosity of a naturalist studying some out-of-the-way specimen. "Yes, indeed. I'm none o' yer gentlemen planters, with lily fingers, to slop round and be cheated by some old cuss of an overseer! Just feel of my knuckles, now; look at my fist. Tell ye, sir, the flesh on't has come jest like a stone, practising on niggers-feel on it." The stranger applied his fingers to the implement in question, ana simply said "Tis hard enough; and I suppose," he added," "practice has made your heart just like it.' 66 "I Why, yes, I may say so," said Simon, with a hearty laugh. reckon ther's as little soft in me as in any one going. Tell you, nobody comes it over me! Niggers never gets round me, neither with squalling nor soft soap-that's a fact!" "You have a fine lot there." "Real," said Simon. "There's that Tom, they tell'd me he was suthin' uncommon. I paid a little high for him, 'tending him for a driver and a managing chap; only get the notions out that he's larn't by bein' treated as niggers never ought to be, he'll do prime! The yellow woman I got took in in. I rayther think she's sickly, but I shall put her through for what she's worth. She may last a year or two. I don't go for savin' niggers. Use up and buy more's my way; makes you lesa Ꭱ |