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Water and cloths were soon brought. The attendant, Michael,
commenced to strip his clothes off, but the poor fellow was so sore
that he screeched, in the greatest agony, every time he attempted to
touch him. "Be easy," said the officer, "he's hurt pretty badly. He
must a' been mighty refractory, or they'd never beaten him in this
manner," he continued, opening a roll of adhesive plaster, and
cutting it into strips. After washing, him with water and whiskey,
they dressed his wounds with the plaster, and bound his head with an
old silk handkerchief which they found in his pocket, after which
they left the light burning and retired.

After they retired, Tommy inquired of the negro how they came to
keep him so long, before they brought him to the guard-house? It
proved, that as soon as they came up with him, the first one knocked
him down with a club; and they all at once commenced beating him
with their bludgeons, and continued until they had satisfied their
mad fury. And while he lay groaning in the streets, they left one of
their number in charge, while the others proceeded to get handcuffs
and chains, in which they bound him, and dragged him, as it were,
the distance of four squares to the guard-house. What a sublime
picture for the meditations of a people who boast of their bravery
and generosity!

CHAPTER XIX.

THE NEXT MORNING, AND THE MAYOR'S VERDICT.

SHORTLY after daylight, Tommy fell into a dozing sleep, from which
he was awakened by the mustering of the prisoners who had been
brought up during the night, and were to appear before the mayor at
nine o'clock. A few minutes before eight o'clock, an officer opened
the cell-door, and they were ordered to march out into a long room.
In this room they found all the prisoners gathered. There were three
blacks and five whites, who had been arrested on different charges;
and as the mayor's court was merely a tribunal of commitment-not
judgment-if the charges upon which the prisoners were brought up
were sustained-which they generally were, because the policeman who
made the arrest was the important witness, they were committed to
await the tardy process of the law.

Considerable uneasiness had been felt on board of the Janson for
Tommy, and the Captain suggested that he might have got astray among
the dark lanes of the city, and that the mate had better send some
of the crew to look for him. The mate, better acquainted with
Tommy's feelings and attachment for Manuel than he was with the
rules of the prison and Mr. Grimshaw's arbitrary orders, assured the
Captain that such a course would be entirely unnecessary, for he
knew when he left that he would stop all night with Manuel. This
quieted the Captain's apprehensions, and he said no more about it
until he sat down to breakfast. "I miss Tommy amazingly," said the
Captain. "If he stopped all night, he should be here by this time. I
think some one had better be sent to the jail to inquire for him."
Just as he arose from the table, one of the crew announced at the
companion that a person on deck wished to see the Captain. On going
up, he found a policeman, who informed him that a little boy had
been arrested as a vagrant in the street, last night, and when
brought before the mayor a few minutes ago, stated that he belonged
to his vessel, and the mayor had despatched him to notify the
master. "Circumstances are suspicious; he was seen in company with a
negro of very bad habits; but if you can identify the boy, you had
better come quick, or he'll be sent to jail, and you'll have some
trouble to get him out," said the messenger, giving the Captain a
description of the boy.

"Oh yes!" said the Captain, "that's my Tommy. I verily believe
they'll have us all in jail before we get away from the port."
Numerous appointments engrossed his time, and he had promised to
meet the consul at an early hour that morning. Notwithstanding this,
he gave a few orders to the mate about getting the hatches ready and
receiving the port-wardens, and then immediately repaired to the
all-important guard-house. He was just in time to receive the
mortifying intelligence that the mayor's court had concluded its
sitting, and to see little Tommy, with a pair of handcuffs on his
hand, in the act of being committed to jail by a Dutch constable. He
stopped the constable, and being told that his honor was yet in the
room, put a couple of dollars into his hand to await his
intercession. Another fortunate circumstance favored him; just as he
stopped the constable, he saw his friend, Colonel S--, approaching.
The colonel saw there was trouble, and with his usual,
characteristic kindness, hastened up and volunteered his services.

We must now return to the arraignment, as it proceeded after the
messenger had been despatched.

The negro confined with Tommy presented a wretched picture when
brought into the light room among the other prisoners. His head was
so swollen that no trace of feature was left in his face. Cuts and
gashes were marked with plaster all over his neck and face; his head
tied up with an old red handkerchief; his eyes, what could be seen
of them, more like balls of blood than organs of sight; while the
whiskey and water with which his head had been washed, had mixed
with the blood upon his clothes, and only served to make its
appearance more disgusting. Altogether, a more pitiful object never
was presented to human sight.

Some minutes before the clock struck nine, an intelligent-looking
gentleman, very well dressed, and portly in his appearance, entered
the room. He was evidently kindly disposed, but one of those men
whose feelings prompt them to get through business with despatch,
rather than inquire into the circumstances of aggravated cases. He
held a consultation with the officer for some minutes with reference
to the prisoners. After which he mounted a little tribune, and
addressing a few words to the white prisoners, (a person who acted
the part of clerk announced court by rapping upon a desk with a
little mallet,) inquired whether the officers had notified the
owners of the negroes. Being informed that they had, he proceeded
with the negroes first. One, by some good fortune, was taken away by
his master, who paid the usual fee to swell the city treasury;
another was sentenced to receive twenty paddles on the frame at the
workhouse; and the third, the man we have described, being brought
forward, weak with the loss of blood, leaned his hand upon the back
of a chair. "Stand up straight!" said the officer, in a commanding
tone.

"Now, my boy, this is twice you have been before this court. Your
master has left you to the mercy of the law, and given strict orders
to the police in the event that you were caught a third time. Your
crime is worse now, for you were caught in company with that white
boy-probably on some errand of villany, prowling about the streets
after drum-beat. I shall, in consideration of the facts here stated
by the police, whose evidence I am bound to recognise, sentence you
to nineteen paddles on the frame, and to be committed to jail, in
accordance with your master's orders, there to await his further
directions.

"Arraign the white prisoners according to the roll, Mr.--. Have you
sent a message to the Captain about that boy?" inquired the mayor.

"No, yer honor; but I will send at once," said the officer, stepping
into the passage and calling an attendant.

The little fellow was arraigned first. He stood up before the mayor
while the ruffianly policeman who arrested him preferred the charges
and swore to them, adding as much to give coloring as possible.
"Now, my man, let me hear what you have got to say for yourself. I
have sent for your captain," said the mayor, looking as if he really
felt pity for the little fellow.

He commenced to tell his simple story, but soon became so convulsed
with tears that he could proceed no further. "I only went to the
jail to see Manuel, the steward, and I got lost, and begged the
black man to show me the way"--said he, sobbing.

"Well, I have heard enough," said the mayor, interrupting him. "You
could not have been at the jail at that time o' night-impossible. It
was after hours-contrary to rules-and only makes the matter worse
for yourself. You can stand aside, and if the Captain comes before
court is through, we will see further; if not, you must be committed
as a vagrant. I'm afraid of you young strollers."

The officer of the guard, as if the poor boy's feelings were not
already sufficiently harassed, took him by the arm, and pushing him
into a corner, said, "There, you young scamp, sit down. You'll get
your deserts when you get to the jail."

He sat down, but could not restrain his feelings. The presence of
the Captain was his only hope. He saw the prisoners arraigned one by
one, and join him as they were ordered for committal. He was
handcuffed like the rest, and delivered to the constable. The reader
can imagine the smile of gladness that welcomed the Captain's timely
appearance. The latter's exhibition of feeling, and the simple
exclamation of the child's joy, formed a striking picture of that
fondness which a loving child manifests when meeting its parents
after a long absence.

"Take the irons off that child," said the colonel to the constable.
"A man like you should not put such symbols of ignominy upon a youth
like that."

"I would do any thing to oblige you, colonel; but I cannot without
orders from the mayor," returned the man, very civilly.

"I'll see that you do, very quick," rejoined the colonel,
impatiently; and taking the little fellow by the arm in a
compassionate manner, led him back into the presence of the mayor,
followed by the Captain.

"I want to know what you are committing this lad for," said the
colonel, setting his hat upon the table, while his face flushed with
indignation.

"Vagrancy, and caught prowling about the streets with a negro at
midnight. That is the charge, colonel," replied the mayor, with
particular condescension and suavity.

"Was there any proof adduced to substantiate that fact?"

"None but the policeman's; you know we are bound to take that as
prima facie."

"Then it was entirely ex parte. But you know the character of these
policemen, and the many aggravated circumstances that have arisen
from their false testimony. I wish to cast no disrespect, your
honor; but really they will swear to any thing for a fee, while
their unscrupulous bribery has become so glaring, that it is a
disgrace to our police system. Have you heard the boy's story?" said
the colonel.

"Well, he began to tell a crooked story, so full of admissions, and
then made such a blubbering about it, that I couldn't make head or
tail of it."

"Well, here is the Captain of his vessel, a friend of mine, whom I
esteem a gentleman-for all captains ought to be gentlemen, not
excepting Georgia captains and majors," said the colonel, jocosely,
turning round and introducing the Captain to his honor. "Now, your
honor, you will indulge me by listening to the little fellow's
story, which will be corroborated in its material points by the
statements of the Captain, which, I trust, will be sufficient; if
not, we shall recur to the jailer."

"It will be sufficient. I am only sorry there has been so much
trouble about it," said the mayor.

The boy now commenced to tell his story, which the mayor listened to
with all learned attention. No sooner had Tommy finished, and the
Captain arose to confirm his statements, than the mayor declared
himself satisfied, apologized for the trouble it had caused, and
discharged the boy upon paying the costs, the amount of which the
colonel took from his pocket and threw upon the table. Thus was
Tommy's joy complete; not so the poor negro whose ill luck he
shared. This high-sounding mayor's court was like C‘sar's court,
with the exceptions in C‘sar's favor.

CHAPTER XX.

EMEUTE AMONG THE STEWARDS.

SEVERAL days had passed ere we again introduce the reader to the
cell of the imprisoned stewards. The captain of the Janson had been
assured by Mr. Grimshaw that every thing was comfortable at the
jail, and Manuel would be well cared for. Confiding in this, the
activity of the consul to bring the matter before the proper
authorities-and the manner in which his own time was engrossed with
his business-left him no opportunity to visit Manuel at the jail.
Tommy and one of the sailors had carried him his hammock, and a few
things from the ship's stores; and with this exception, they had but
little to eat for several days. Copeland had but a few days more to
remain, and, together with those who were with him, had exhausted
their means, in providing from day to day, during their
imprisonment. The poor woman who did their washing, a
generous-hearted mulatto, had brought them many things, for which
she asked no compensation. Her name was Jane Bee, and when the rules
of the jail made every man his own washerwoman, she frequently
washed for those who had nothing to pay her. But her means were
small, and she worked hard for a small pittance, and had nothing to
bring them for several days. They were forced to take the allowance
of bread, but could not muster resolution to eat the sickly meat.

Those who had suffered from it before, took it as a natural
consequence, looking to the time of their release, as if it was to
bring a happy change in their lives. But Manuel felt that it was an
unprecedented outrage upon his feelings, and was determined to
remonstrate against it. He knocked loudly at the door, and some of
the prisoners hearing it, reported to the jailer, who sent Daley to
answer it. As soon as the door was opened, he rushed past, and
succeeded in gaining the iron door that opened into the vestibule,
where he could converse with the Jailer, through the grating, before
Daley could stop him.

The jailer seeing him at the grating, anticipated his complaint.
"Well, Pereira,--what's the matter up-stairs?" said he.

"For God's sake, jailer, what am I put in here for-to starve? We
cannot eat the meat you send us, and we have had little else than
bread and water for three days. Do give us something to eat, and
charge it to consul, or Captain, an' I'll pay it from my wages when
I get out, if I ever do," said he.

"My dear fellow!" said the jailer, "no one knows your case better
than I do; but I am poor, and the restrictions which I am under
allow me no privileges. You had all better take your meat in the
morning-if you won't take soup-and try to cook it, or get Jane to do
it for you. I will give you some coffee and bread from my own table,
to-night, and you better say as little about it as possible, for if
Grimshaw hears it, he may lock you up."

"Do, I shall be very thankful, for we are really suffering from
hunger, in our cell, and I pay you when I get money from Captain,"
said Manuel, manifesting his thankfulness at the jailer's kindness.

"I will send it up in a few minutes, but you needn't trouble
yourself about pay-I wouldn't accept it!" said the jailer; and as
good as his word, he sent them up a nice bowl of coffee for each,
and some bread, butter, and cheese. They partook of the humble fare,
with many thanks to the donor. Having despatched it, they seated
themselves upon the floor, around the faint glimmer of a tin lamp,
while Copeland read the twentieth and twenty-first chapters of the
Acts of the Apostles. Copeland was a pious negro, and his behaviour
during his imprisonment enlisted the respect of every one in jail.
Singular as the taste may seem, he had his corner in the cell
decorated with little framed prints. Among them we noticed one of
the crucifixion, and another of the Madonna. After reading the
chapters, they retired to their hard beds. About nine o'clock the
next morning, Daley came to the door with a piece of neck meat, so
tainted and bloody that its smell and looks more than satisfied the
stomach.

"Here it is, boys," said he; "yer four pound, but ye's better take
soup, cos ye'll niver cook that bone, anyhow."

"Do you think we're like dogs, to eat such filth as that? No! I'd
rather starve!" said Manuel.

"Indeed, an' ye'll larn to ate any thing win ye'd be here a month.
But be dad, if ye don't watch number one about here, ye's won't get
much nohow," replied Daley, dropping the bloody neck upon the floor,
and walking out.

"Better take it," said Copeland. "There's no choice, and hunger
don't stand for dainties, especially in this jail, where everybody
is famished for punishment. If we don't eat it, we can give it to
some of the poor prisoners up-stairs."

"While I have good ship-owners, and a good Captain, I never will eat
such stuff as that; oh! no," returned Manuel.

The meat was laid in a corner for the benefit of the flies; and when
dinner time arrived, the same hard extreme arrived with it-bread and
water. And nobody seemed to have any anxieties on their behalf; for
two of them had written notes to their Captains, on the day
previous, but they remained in the office for want of a messenger to
carry them. Fortunately, Jane called upon them in the afternoon, and
brought a nice dish of rice and another of homony.

We will here insert a letter we received from a very worthy friend,
who, though he had done much for the Charleston people, and been
repaid in persecutions, was thrown into jail for a paltry debt by a
ruthless creditor. Cleared by a jury of twelve men, he was held in
confinement through the wretched imperfection of South Carolina law,
to await nearly twelve months for the sitting of the "Appeal Court,"
more to appease the vindictiveness of his enemies than to satisfy
justice, for it was well understood that he did not owe the debt.
His letter speaks for itself. Charleston Jail, March 31, '52.

MY DEAR FRIEND,--I could not account for your absence during the
last few days, until this morning, when Mr. F***** called upon me
for a few moments, and from him I learnt that you had been quite
unwell. If you are about to-morrow, do call upon me; for a more
dreary place, or one where less regard is paid to the calls of
humanity, cannot be found among the nations of the earth.

Such is the ordinary condition of suffering within this
establishment, that men, and even women, are forced to all kinds of
extremes to sustain life; and, to speak what experience has taught
me, crime is more increased than reduced by this wretched system.
There seems to be little distinction among the prisoners, and no
means to observe it, except in what is called Mount Rascal on the
third story. Pilfering is so common, that you cannot leave your room
without locking your door. The jailer is a good, kind-hearted old
man, very often giving from his own table to relieve the wants of
debtors, many of whom repay him with ingratitude. I have suffered
many privations from shipwreck and cold, but never until I came to
South Carolina was I compelled to endure imprisonment and subsist
several days upon bread and water.

Talk about chivalry and hospitality! How many men could join with me
and ask, "Where is it?" But why should I demur, when I see those
abroad who have been driven from this State to seek bread; when I
hear the many voices without tell of struggling to live, for want of
system in mechanical employment, and when I look upon several within
these sombre walls who are even worse than me. Here is a physician,
with a wife and large family, committed for a debt which he was
unable to pay. His father's name stands among the foremost of the
State--a General of distinction, who offered his life for her in
time of war, and whose name honors her triumphs, and has since
graced the councils of state.

General Hammond, whose name occupies such a conspicuous place in the
military history of South Carolina. The father's enthusiasm for his
country's cause led him to sacrifice his all, and by it he entailed
misfortune upon his descendants. When I consider the case of
Shannon, whose eleven years and seven months' imprisonment for debt,
as it was called, but which eventually proved to be a question
turning upon technicalities of law, gave him, body and soul, to the
vindictiveness of a persecutor, whose unrelenting malignity was kept
up during that long space of time. It was merely a breach of
limitation between merchants, the rights of which should be governed
by commercial custom. Shannon had, amassed about twenty thousand
dollars by hard industry; his health was waning, and he resolved to
retire with it to his native county. The gem proved too glaring for
the lynx eye of a "true Carolinian," who persuaded him to invest his
money in cotton. Moved by flattering inducements, he authorized a
factor to purchase for him upon certain restrictions, which,
unfortunately for himself, were not drawn up with regard to legal
enforcement-one of those singular instruments between a merchant and
an inexperienced man which a professional quibbler can take
advantage of. Cotton was at the tip-top, and very soon Shannon was
presented with an account of purchase, and draft so far beyond his
limits, that he demurred, and rejected the purchase entirely; but
some plot should be laid to entrap him. The factor undertook the
force game, notified him that the cotton was held subject to his
order, and protested the draft for the appearance of
straightforwardness. Cotton shortly fell to the other extreme, the
lot was "shoved up" for sale on Shannon's account, Shannon was sued
for the balance, held to bail, and in default committed to prison.
His confinement and endurance of it would form a strange chapter in
the history of imprisonment for debt. Carrying his money with him,
he closed the door of his cell, and neither went out nor would allow
any one but the priest to enter for more than three years; and for
eleven years and seven months he paced the room upon a diagonal line
from corner to corner, until he wore the first flooring, of two-and-
a-quarter-inch pine, entirely through.

I might go on and tell of many others, whose poverty was well known,
and yet suffered years of imprisonment for debt; but I find I have
digressed. I must relate an amusing affair which took place this
morning between Manuel Pereira, the steward of the English brig
Janson, which put into this port in distress, and the jailer. He is
the man about whom so much talk and little feeling has been
enlisted--a fine, well-made, generous-hearted Portuguese. He is
olive-complexioned--as light as many of the Carolinians--intelligent
and obliging, and evidently unaccustomed to such treatment as he
receives here.

Manuel appeared before the jailer's office this morning with two
junks of disgusting-looking meat, the neck-bones, tainted and
bloody, in each hand. His Portuguese ire was up. "Mister Poulnot,
what you call dis? In South Carolina you feed man on him, ah? In my
country, ah yes! we feed him to dog. What you call him? May-be
somethin' what me no know him. In South Carolina, prison sailor when
he shipwreck, starve him on nosin', den tell him eat this, ah! I
sails 'round ze world, but never savage man gives me like zat to
eat! No, I starve 'fore I eat him, be gar! Zar, you take him," said
he, throwing the pieces of meat upon the floor in disdain.

"Meat! Yes, it's what's sent here for us. You mustn't grumble at me;
enter your complaints to the sheriff, when he comes," said the
jailer, with an expression of mortification on his countenance.

"Meat, ah! You call dat meat in South Carolina? I call him
bull-neck, not fit for dog in my country. I see, when Capitan come,
vat he do," said Manuel, turning about and going to his room in a
great excitement.

"You'd better be careful how you talk, or you may get locked up when
the sheriff comes."

It seems that the Captain had received a note from him, addressed by
one of the white prisoners on the same floor, and reached the jail
just as Manuel had ascended the stairs. He rang the bell and
requested to see Manuel.

"Manuel Pereira?" inquired the jailer.

"Yes," said the Captain, "he is my steward."

He heard the Captain's voice, and immediately returned to the lobby.
The tears ran down his cheeks as soon as he saw his old protector.
"Well, Manuel, I am glad to see you, but sorry that it is in
imprisonment. Tell me what is the matter. Don't they use you well
here?" inquired the Captain.

Stepping within the office door, he caught up the pieces of meat,
and bringing them out in his hands, held them up. "There, Capitan,
that no fit for man, is it?" said he. "Law send me prison, but law
no give not'ing to eat. What I do dat people treat me so? Ah,
Capitan, bull neck, by gar, yes-bull born in South Carolina, wid two
neck. Ils sont r‚duits … l'extr‚mit‚," said he, concluding with
broken French.

"That cannot be; it's against the law to kill bulls in South
Carolina," interrupted the jailer jocosely.

"Must be. I swear he bull-neck, 'cas he cum every day just like him.
Bull born wid one neck no cum so many. What I get for breakfast,
Capitan, ah?--piece bad bread. What I get for dinner, ah?--bull-neck.
Yes, what I get for supper, too?--piece bread and bucket o' water.
May-be he bad, may be he good, just so he come. You think I live on
dat, Capitan?" said he, in reply to the Captain's questions.

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