Books: Manuel Pereira

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After a few days, they found that their cell had been entered, and
nearly all their provisions stolen. Not contented with this, the act
was repeated for several days, and all the means they provided to
detect the thief proved fruitless. The jailer made several searches
through their remonstrances, but without effecting any thing. They
kept their provisions in a little box, which they locked with a
padlock; but as Daley had the keys of the cell, they had no means of
locking the door. At length Manuel set a trap that proved effectual.
One morning Tommy came puffing into the jail with a satchel over his
back. "I guess Manuel won't feel downhearted when he sees this--do
you think he will?" said the little fellow, as he put the satchel
upon the floor and looked up at the jailer. "An' I've got some
cigars, too, the Captain sent, in my pocket," said he, nodding his
head; and putting his hand into a side-pocket, pulled out one and
handed it to the jailer.

"Ah! you are a good little fellow-worth a dozen of our boys. Sit
down and rest yourself," said the jailer, and called a monstrous
negro wench to bring a chair and take the satchel up to the cell.
Then turning to the back-door, he called Manuel; and, as if
conscious of Tommy's arrival, the rest of the stewards followed. He
sprang from the chair as soon as he saw Manuel, and running toward
him, commenced telling him what he had got in the satchel and at
the same time pulled out a handful of segars that the Captain had
sent for himself. Manuel led the way up-stairs, followed by Tommy
and the train of stewards. Tommy opened the satchel, while Manuel
laid the contents, one by one, on the table which necessity had
found in the head of a barrel.

"Now eat, my friends, eat just as much as you want, and then I'll
catch the thief that breaks my lock and steals my meat. I catch
him," said Manuel. After they had all done, he locked the balance up
in his box, and sent everybody down-stairs into the yard, first
covering himself with two mattrasses, and giving orders to Copeland
to lock the door after him. Every thing was ready to move at the
word. In this position he remained for nearly half an hour. At
length he heard a footstep approach the door, and then the lock
clink. The door opened slowly, and the veritable Mr. Daley limped
in, and taking a key from his pocket, unlocked the little box, and
filling his tin pan, locked it, and was walking off as independent
as a wood-sawyer, making a slight whistle to a watch that was
stationed at the end of the passage. "It's you, is it?" said Manuel,
suddenly springing up and giving him a blow on the side of the head
that sent him and the contents of the pan into a promiscuous pile on
the floor. Daley gathered himself up and made an attempt to reach
the door, but Manuel, fearing what might be the consequence if the
other prisoners came to his assistance, shut the door before him and
fastened it on the inside.

"Bad luck to yer infernal eyes, will ye strike a white man, ye nager
ye, in a country like this same?" said Daley, as he was gathering
himself up. This incensed Manuel's feelings still more. To have
insult added to injury, and a worthless drunkard and thief abuse
him, was more than he could bear. He commenced according to a
sailor's rule of science, and gave Daley a systematic threshing,
which, although against the rules of the jail, was declared by
several of the prisoners to be no more than he had long deserved. As
may have been expected, Daley cried lustily for help, adding the
very convenient item of murder, to make his case more alarming.
Several persons had crowded around the door, but none could gain
admittance. The jailer had no sooner reached the door, than (most
unfortunately for Manuel) he was called back to the outer door, to
admit Mr. Grimshaw, who had just rung the bell. The moment he
entered, Daley's noise was loudest, and reached his ears before he
had gained the outside gate. He rushed up-stairs, followed by the
jailer, and demanded entrance at the cell door, swearing at the top
of his voice that he would break it in with an axe if the command
was not instantly obeyed.

The door opened, and Manuel stood with his left hand extended at
Daley. "Come in, gentlemen, I catch him, one rascal, what steal my
provision every day, and I punish him, what he remember when I
leave."

Daley stood trembling against the wall, bearing the marks of serious
injury upon his face and eyes. "At it again, Daley? Ah! I thought
you had left off them tricks!" said the jailer.

Daley began to tell a three-cornered story, and to give as many
possible excuses, with equally as many characteristic bulls in them.
"I don't want to hear your story, Daley," said Mr. Grimshaw. "But,
Mr. Jailer, I command you to lock that man up in the third story,"
pointing to Manuel. "I don't care what the circumstances are. He's
given us more trouble than he's worth. He tried to pass himself off
for a white man, but he couldn't come that, and now he's had the
impudence to strike a white man; lock him up! lock him up!! and keep
him locked up until further orders from me. I'll teach him a lesson
that he never learnt before he came to South Carolina; and then let
Consul Mathew sweat over him, and raise another fuss if he can."

"If he's guilty of violating the rules of the jail, Daley is guilty
of misdemeanour, and the thieving has been aggravatingly continued.
If we put one, we must put both up," said the jailer.

"Just obey my orders, Mr. Jailer. I will reprimand Daley to-morrow.
I shall just go to the extent of the law with that feller," said
Grimshaw peremptorily.

"You may lock me up in a dungeon, do with me as you will, if the
power is yours; but my feelings are my own, and you cannot crush
them. I look to my consul, and the country that has protected me
around the world, and can protect me still," said Manuel, resigning
himself to the jailer, whose intentions he knew to be good.

Poor little Tommy stood begging and crying for his friend and
companion, for he heard Mr. Grimshaw give an imperative order to the
jailer not to allow visitors into his cell. "Never mind, Tommy, we
shall soon meet again, and sail companions for the old owners. Don't
cry; the jailer will let you see me to-morrow," said Manuel.

"No, I can't do that; you heard my orders; I must obey them. I
should like to do it, but it's out of my power," returned the
jailer, awaiting with a bunch of keys in his hand.

Manuel turned to the little fellow, and kissing him as he would an
affectionate child, bade him adieu, and ascended, the steps leading
to the third story (Mount Rascal) in advance of the jailer, to be
confined in a dark, unhealthy cell, there to await the caprice of
one man. To describe this miserable hole would be a task too
harrowing to our feelings. We pass it for those who will come after
us. He little thought, when he shook the hand of his little
companion, that it was the last time he should meet him for many
months, and then only to take a last parting look, under the most
painful circumstances. But such is the course of life!

Copeland had received notice to hold himself in readiness, as his
vessel would be ready for sea the next morning. He was not long in
getting his few things in order, and when morning came he was on
hand, prepared to bound from the iron confines of the Charleston
jail, like a stag from a thicket. As he bade good-by to his
fellow-prisoners in the morning, he said, "This is my last
imprisonment in Charleston. I have been imprisoned in Savannah, but
there I had plenty to eat, comfortable apartments, and every thing I
asked for, except my liberty. Never, so long as I sail the water,
shall I ship for such a port as this again." He requested to see
Manuel, but being refused, upon the restraint of orders, he left the
jail. It was contrary to law; and thus in pursuing his vocation
within the limits of South-Carolina, his owners were made to pay the
following sum, for which neither they nor the man who suffered the
imprisonment received any compensation. "Contrary to Law." Schooner
"Oscar Jones," Captain Kelly, For William H. Copeland, Colored
Seaman. To Sheriff of Charleston District. 1852,

To Arrest, $2; Registry, $2, $4.00 To Recog. $1.31; Constable, $1,
2.31 To Commitment and Discharge, 1.00 To 15 Days' Jail Maintenance
of Wm. H. Copeland, at 80 cts. per day, 4.50 Received payment,
$11.81 J. D--, Per Charles E. Kanapeaux, Clerk.

God save the sovereignty of South Carolina, and let her mercy and
hospitality be known on earth!

CHAPTER XXIII.

IMPRISONMENT OF JOHN PAUL, AND JOHN BAPTISTE PAMERLIE.

IN order to complete the four characters, as we designed in the
outset, we must here introduce the persons whose names fill the
caption. The time of their imprisonment was some two months later
than Manuel's release; but we introduce them here for the purpose of
furnishing a clear understanding of the scenes connected with
Manuel's release.

John Paul was a fine-looking French negro, very dark, with
well-developed features, and very intelligent,--what would be called
in South Carolina, "a very prime feller." He was steward on board of
the French bark Senegal, Captain--. He spoke excellent French and
Spanish, and read Latin very well,--was a Catholic, and paid
particular respect to devotional exercises,--but unfortunately he
could not speak or understand a word of English. In all our
observation of different characters of colored men, we do not
remember to have seen one whose pleasant manner, intelligence, and
civility, attracted more general attention. But he could not
comprehend the meaning of the law imprisoning a peaceable man
without crime, and why the authorities should fear him, when he
could not speak their language. He wanted to see the city-what sort
of people were in it-if they bore any analogy to their good old
forefathers in France; and whether they had inherited the same
capricious feelings as the descendants of the same generation on the
other side of the water. There could be no harm in that; and
although he knew something of French socialism, he was ignorant of
Carolina's peculiar institutions, her politics, and her fears of
abolition, as a "Georgia cracker"

A sort of semi-civilized native, wearing a peculiar homespun dress;
with a native dialect strongly resembling many of the Yorkshire
phrases. They are generally found located in the poorer parishes and
districts, where their primitive-looking cabins are easily
designated from that of the more enterprising agriculturist. But few
of them can read or write,--and preferring the coarsest mode of
life, their habits are extremely dissolute. Now and then one may be
found owning a negro or two,--but a negro would rather be sold to
the torments of hell, or a Louisiana sugar-planter, than to a
Georgia cracker. You will see them approaching the city on
market-days, with their travelling-cart, which is a curiosity in
itself. It is a two-wheeled vehicle of the most primitive
description, with long, rough poles for shafts or thills. Sometimes
it is covered with a blanket, and sometimes with a white rag, under
which are a few things for market, and the good wife, with sometimes
one or two wee-yans; for the liege lord never fails to bring his
wife to market, that she may see the things of the city. The
dejected-looking frame of some scrub-breed horse or a half-starved
mule is tied (for we can't call it harnessed) between the thills,
with a few pieces of rope and withes; and, provided with a piece of
wool-tanned sheep-skin, the lord of the family, with peculiar
dress, a drab slouched hat over his eyes, and a big whip in his
hand, mounts on the back of the poor animal, and placing his feet
upon the thills to keep them down, tortures it through a heavy,
sandy road. The horses are loaded so much beyond their strength,
that they will stop to blow, every ten or fifteen minutes, while the
man will sit upon their backs with perfect unconcern. Remonstrate
with them in regard to the sufficient draught added to the
insupportable weight upon their backs, and they will immediately
commence demonstrating how he can draw easier when there is an
immense weight upon his back. The husband generally exchanges his
things for whiskey, rice, and tobacco, while the wife buys calico
and knick-knacks. Sometimes they get "a right smart chance o'
things" together, and have a "party at home," which means a blow-out
among themselves. Sometimes they have a shucking, which is a great
affair, even. among the little farmers in Upper Georgia, where,
only, corn-shuckings are kept up with all the spice of old custom,
and invitations are extended to those at a distance of ten or
fifteen miles, who repay the compliment with their presence, and
join in the revelry. There are two classes of the cracker in
Georgia, according to our observation, differing somewhat in their
dialect, but not in their habits. One is the upper, and the other
the low country, or rather what some call the "co-u-n-try-b-o-r-n"
cracker. The up-country cracker gives more attention to farming,
inhabits what's known as the Cherokee country and its vicinity, and
is designated by the sobriquet of "wire-grass man." would be of
Greek. Like his predecessors in confinement, he fell into the hands
of the veritable Dunn, without the assistance of his friend Duse, as
he called him; but had it not been for the timely appearance of a
clerk in the French consul's office, who explained the nature of the
arrest, in his native tongue, Mr. Dunn would have found some trouble
in making the arrest. Already had the officers and crew of the bark
gathered around him, making grimaces, and gibbering away like a
flock of blackbirds surrounding a hawk, and just ready to pounce.
"Don't I'se be tellin' yees what I wants wid 'im, and the divil a
bit ye'll understand me. Why don't yees spake so a body can
understand what yees be blatherin' about. Sure, here's the paper,
an' yees won't read the English of it. The divil o' such a fix I was
ever in before wid yer John o' crapue's an' yer chatter. Ye say
we-we-we; sure it's but one I wants. Ah! whist now, captain, and
don't ye be makin' a bother over it. Shure, did ye niver hear o'
South Carolina in the wide world? An' ye bees travellin' all over
it, and herself's such a great State, wid so many great gintlemen in
it," said Dunn, talking his green-island Greek to the Frenchman.

"We, we! mon Dieu, ah!" said the Frenchman.

"Ah, shure there ye are again. What would I be doin' wid de 'hole o'
yees? It's the nager I want. Don't ye know that South Carolina don't
allow the likes o' him to be comin ashore and playing the divil wid
her slaves," continued Dunn, stretching himself up on his lame leg.

The clerk stepped up at this moment. "It's 'imself'll be telling yes
all about it, for yer like a parcel of geese makin' a fuss about a
goslin." Mr. Dunn had got his Corkonian blood up; and although the
matter was explained, he saw the means at hand, and fixed his
feelings for a stiff compensation. The clerk, after explaining to
the captain, turned to John Paul and addressed him. As soon as he
was done, John commenced to pack up his dunnage and get money from
the captain, as if he was bound on an Arctic Expedition. Dunn's eyes
glistened as he saw the money passing into Paul's hand; but he was
not to be troubled with the dunnage, and after hurrying him a few
times, marched him off. He went through the regular system of
grog-shop sponging; but his suavity and willingness to acquiesce in
all Mr. Dunn's demands, saved him some rough usage. There was this
difference between John Paul and Manuel, that the former, not
understanding the English language, mistook Dunn's deception for
friendship, and moved by that extreme French politeness and warmth
of feeling, which he thought doing the gentleman par excellence;
while the latter, with a quicker perception of right and wrong, and
understanding our language, saw the motive and disdained its
nefarious object. For when Paul arrived at the jail he was minus a
five-dollar gold-piece, which his very amiable official companion
took particular care of, lest something should befall it. Poor John
Paul! He was as harmless as South Carolina's secession and
chivalry-two of the most harmless things in the world, not excepting
Congressional duelling.

As soon as he entered the jail and found that the jailer could speak
French, he broke out in a perfect tornado of enthusiasm. "Je serai
charm‚ de lier connaissance avec un si amiable compagnon," said he,
and continued in a strain so swift and unabated that it would have
been impossible for an Englishman to have traced the inflections.

The jailer called Daley, and telling him to take his blanket, the
State's allotment, ordered him shown to his cell. Daley took the
blanket under his arm and the keys in his hand, and Paul soon
followed him upstairs to be introduced to his cell. "There, that's
the place for yees. We takes the shine off all ye dandy niggers whin
we gets ye here. Do ye see the pair of eyes in the head o' me?" said
Daley, pointing to his blackened eyes; "an' he that done that same
is in the divil's own place above. Now, if ye have ever a drap of
whiskey, don't be keepin' it shy, an' it'll be tellin' ye a good
many favors."

"Ah! mon Dieu! Cela fait dresser les cheveux … la tˆte," said Paul,
shrugging his shoulders.

"Bad luck to the word of that I'd be understandin' at all, at all.
Can't ye spake so a body'd understand what ye'd mane?"

"C'est ma grande consolation d'avoir. * * * Les Etats-Unis est une
mod‚le de perfection r‚publicaine," said he, taking the blanket from
Daley and throwing it upon the floor. He was but a poor companion
for his fellow-prisoners, being deprived of the means to exercise
his social qualities. He went through the same course of suffering
that Manuel did; but, whether from inclination or necessity, bore it
with more Christian fortitude, chanting vespers every morning, and
reading the Latin service every evening. The lesson which Manuel
taught Daley proved of great service to Paul, who gave Daley the
jail-ration which it was impossible for him to eat, and was saved
from his pilfering propensities. Thus, after John Paul had suffered
thirty-five days' imprisonment, in mute confinement, to satisfy the
majesty of South Carolina, he was released upon the following
conditions, and taken to his vessel at early daylight, lest he
should see the city or leave something to contaminate the slaves.
"Contrary to law." State vs. "Contrary to law." French bark
"Senegal," Capt.--For John Paul, Colored Seaman. To Sheriff
Charleston Dist.

July 18, 1852. To Arrest, $2; Registry, $2, $4.00" "Recog. $1.31;
Constable, $1, 2.31" "Commitment and discharge, 1.00" "35 Days'
Maintenace of John Paul, at 30 cents per day, 10.50

Recd. payment, $17.81 J. D--, S. C. D. Per Chs. E. Kanapeaux, Clerk.

A very nice item of disbursements to present to the owners-a premium
paid for the advanced civilization of South Carolina!

We have merely noticed the imprisonment of John Paul, our limits
excluding the details. We must now turn to a little, pert, saucy
French boy, eleven years old, who spoke nothing but Creole French,
and that as rotten as we ever heard lisped. The French bark Nouvelle
Amelie, Gilliet, master, from Rouen, arrived in Charleston on the
twenty-ninth of July. The captain was a fine specimen of a French
gentleman. He stood upon the quarter-deck as she was being
"breasted-in" to the wharf, giving orders to his men, while the
little child stood at the galley looking at the people upon the
wharf, making grimaces and pointing one of the crew to several
things that attracted his attention. Presently the vessel hauled
alongside of the dock, and Dusenberry, with his companion Dunn, who
had been watching all the movements of the vessel from a
hiding-place on the wharf, sprang out and boarded her ere she had
touched the piles.

The "nigger," seeing Dusenberry approach him, waited until he saw
his hand extended, and then, as if to save himself from impending
danger, ran aft and into the cabin, screaming at the top of his
voice. The crew began to run and move up into close quarters. The
issue was an important one, and rested between South Carolina and
the little "nigger." Dusenberry attempted to descend into the cabin.
"Vat you vant wid my John, my Baptiste? No, you no do dat, 'z my
cabin; never allow stranger go down 'im," said the captain, placing
himself in the companionway, while the little terrified nigger
peeped above the combing, and rolled his large eyes, the white
glowing in contrast, from behind the captain's legs. In this
tempting position the little darkie, knowing he was protected by the
captain and crew, would taunt the representative of the State with
his bad French. Dunn stood some distance behind Dusenberry, upon the
deck, and the mission seemed to be such a mystery to both captain
and crew, that their presence aroused a feeling of curiosity as well
as anxiety. Several of the sailors gathered around him, and made
antic grimaces, pointing their fingers at him and swearing, so that
Dunn began to be alarmed by the incomprehensible earnestness of
their gibberish, turned pale, and retreated several steps, to the
infinite amusement of those upon the wharf.

Vat 'e do, ah, you vant 'im? Vat you do vid 'im ven zu gets him, ah?
Cette affaire d‚licate demande," said one of the number, who was
honored with the title of mate, and who, with a terrific black
moustache and beard, had the power of contorting his face into the
most repugnant grimaces. And, at the moment, he drew his
sheath-knife and made a pretended plunge at Dunn's breast, causing
him to send forth a pitiful yell, and retreat to the wharf with
quicker movements than he ever thought himself capable of.

"Il n'y a pas grand mal … cela," said the Frenchman, laughing at
Dunn as he stood upon the capsill of the wharf.

"Bad luck to ye, a pretty mess a murderous Frinchmin that ye are. Do
yees be thinkin' ye'd play that trick in South Carolina? Ye'll get
the like o' that taken out o' ye whin yer before his honor in the
mornin'," said Dunn.

Dusenberry had stood parleying with the captain at the
companion-door, endeavoring to make the latter understand that it
was not a case which required the presence of the silver oar. There
is a prevailing opinion among sailors, that no suit in Admiralty can
be commenced, or seaman arrested while on board, without the
presence of the silver oar. And thus acting upon this impression,
the captain and officers of the Nouvelle Amelie contended for what
they considered a right. The mate and crew drew closer and closer
toward Dusenberry, until he became infected with the prevailing
alarm. "Captain, I demand your protection from these men, in the
name of the State of South Carolina," said he.

"Who he? De State Souf Ca'lina, vat I know 'bout him, ah? Bring de
silver oar when come take my man. II y a de la malhomm‚, tet‚ dans
sou proc‚s," said Captain Gilliet, turning to his mate.

"Avaunt! avaunt!" said the big man with the large whiskers, and they
all made a rush at Dusenberry, and drove him over the rail and back
to the wharf, where he demanded the assistance of those anxious
spectators, for and in the name of the State. It was a right good
vaudeville comique, played in dialogue and pantomime. The point of
the piece, which, with a little arrangement, might have made an
excellent production, consisted of a misunderstanding between an
Irishman and a Frenchman about South Carolina, and a law so peculiar
that no stranger could comprehend its meaning at first and as
neither could understand the language of the other, the more they
explained the more confounded the object became, until, from piquant
comique, the scene was worked into the appearance of a tragedy. One
represented his ship, and to him his ship was his nation; the
other represented South Carolina, and to him South Carolina was the
United States; and the question was, which had the best right to the
little darkie.

The spectators on the wharf were not inclined to move, either not
wishing to meddle themselves with South Carolina's affairs-wanting
larger game to show their bravery-or some more respectable officer
to act in command. The little darkie, seeing Dusenberry driven to
the wharf, ran to the gangway, and protruding his head over the
rail, worked his black phiz into a dozen pert expressions, showing
his ivory, rolling the white of his eyes, and crooking his finger
upon his nose in aggravating contempt.

"Shure, we'll turn the guard out and take ye an' yer ship, anyhow.
Why don't yees give the nager up dasently, an' don't be botherin'.
An' isn't it the law of South Carolina, be dad; an' be the mortis,
ye'd be getting' no small dale of a pinalty for the same yer doin',"
said Dunn.

A gentleman, who had been a silent looker-on, thinking it no more
than proper to proffer his mediation, perceiving where the
difficulty lay, stepped on board and introducing himself to the
captain, addressed him in French, and explained the nature of the
proceeding. The captain shook his head for some time, and shrugged
his shoulders. "La police y est bien administr‚e," said he, with an
air of politeness; and speaking to his mate, that officer again
spoke to the men, and Dusenberry was told by the gentleman that he
could come on board. Without further ceremony, he mounted the rail
and made a second attempt at the young urchin, who screamed and ran
into the cook's galley, amid the applause of the seamen, who made
all sorts of shouts inciting him to run, crying out, "Run, Baptiste!
run, Baptiste!" In this manner the little darkie kept the officer at
bay for more than fifteen minutes, passing out of one door as the
officer entered the other, to the infinite delight of the crew. At
length his patience became wearied, and as he was about to call Dunn
to his assistance, the captain came up, and calling the child to
him-for such he was-delivered him up, the little fellow roaring at
the top of his voice as the big officer carried him over the rail
under his arm. This ended the vaudeville comique on board of the
French bark Nouvelle Amelie, Captain Gilliet.

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