Books: Manuel Pereira
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F. C. Adams >> Manuel Pereira
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"Oh! the devil, Cap; your getting all astray--a woman nigger never
has the advantage of the law. They always go with the niggers, ah!
ha! ha!!"
"But suppose they're related to some of your big-bugs. What then?
Are your authorities so wise and generous that they make allowance
for these things," asked the Captain, innocently.
"Oh! poh! there you're again: you must live in Charleston a year or
two, but you'll have to be careful at first that you don't fall in
love with some of our bright gals, and think they're white, before
you know it. It doesn't matter seven coppers who they're got by,
there's no distinction among niggers in Charleston. I'll put you
through some of the bright houses when we get up, and show you some
scions of our aristocracy, that are the very worst cases. It's a
fact, Cap, these little shoots of the aristocracy invariably make
bad niggers. If a fellow wants a real prime, likely nigger wench, he
must get the pure African blood. As they say themselves, 'Wherever
Buckra-man bin, make bad nigger.'"
"Well, Pilot, I think we've had enough about mixed niggers for the
present. Tell me! do you really think they'll give me trouble with
my steward? He certainly is not a black man, and a better fellow
never lived," inquired the Captain earnestly.
"Nothing else, Cap," said the pilot. "It's a hard law, I tell you,
and if our merchants and business men had a say in it, 'twouldn't
last long; ye can't pass him off for a white man nohow, for the
thing's 'contrary to law,' and pays so well that them contemptible
land-sharks of officers make all the fuss about it, and never let
one pass. Just take the infernal fees off, and nobody'd trouble
themselves about the stewards. It all goes into old Grimshaw's
pocket, and he'd skin a bolt-rope for the grease, and sell the
steward if he could get a chance. He has sold a much nearer
relation. I'm down upon the law, you'll see, Cap, for I know it
plays the dickens with our business, and is a curse to the commerce
of the port. Folks what a'n't acquainted with shipping troubles, and
a shipowner's interests, think such things are very small affairs.
But it's the name that affects us, and when an owner stands at every
item in the disbursements, and a heavy bill for keeping his steward,
and another for filling his place, or boarding-house accommodations,
and then be deprived of his services, he makes a wry face, and
either begins to think about another port, or making the rate of
freight in proportion to the annoyance. It has an effect that we
feel, but don't say much about. I'm a secessionist, but I don't
believe in running mad after politics, and letting our commercial
interests suffer."
"But what if I prove my steward a'n't a colored man?" said the
Captain; "they surely won't give me any trouble then. It would pain
my feelings very much to see Manuel locked up in a cell for no
crime; and then to be deprived of his services, is more than I can
stand. If I'd known it before, I'd suffered the torments of thirst,
and put for a port farther north."
"It'll cost more than it's worth," said the pilot. "Take my plain
advice, Cap; never try that; our lawyers are lusty fellows upon
fees; and the feller'd rot in that old nuisance of a jail afore
you'd get him out. The process is so slow and entangled, nobody'd
know how to bring the case, and ev'ry lawyer'd have an opinion of
his own. But the worst of all is that it's so unpopular, you can't
get a lawyer worth seven cents to undertake it. It would be as
dangerous as an attempt to extricate a martyr from the burning
flames. Public opinion in Charleston is controlled by politicians;
and an attempt to move in a thing so unpopular would be like a man
attempting to speak, with pistols and swords pointed to his head."
"Then it's folly to ask justice in your city, is it?" asked the
Captain. "But your people are generous, a'n't they? and treat
strangers with a courtesy that marks the character of every
high-minded society?"
"Yes!--but society in South Carolina has nothing to do with the law;
our laws are gloriously ancient. I wish, Cap, I could only open your
ideas to the way our folks manage their own affairs. I'm opposed to
this law that imprisons stewards, because it affects commerce, but
then our other laws are tip-top. It was the law that our legislature
made to stop free niggers from coming from the abolition States to
destroy the affections of our slaves. Some say, the construction
given to it and applied to stewards of foreign vessels a'n't legal,
and wasn't intended; but now it's controlled by popular will,--the
stewards a'n't legislators, and the judges know it wouldn't be
popular, and there's nobody dare meddle with it, for fear he may be
called an abolitionist. You better take my advice, Cap: ship the
nigger, and save yourself and Consul Mathew the trouble of another
fuss," continued the pilot.
"That I'll never do! I've made up my mind to try it, and won't be
driven out of a port because the people stand in fear of a harmless
man. If they have any souls in them, they'll regard with favor a
poor sailor driven into their port in distress. I've sailed nearly
all over the world, and I never got among a people yet that wouldn't
treat a shipwrecked sailor with humanity. Gracious God! I've known
savages to be kind to poor shipwrecked sailors, and to share their
food with them. I can't, pilot, imagine a civilization so degraded,
nor a public so lost to common humanity, as to ill treat a man in
distress. We've said enough about it for the present. I'll appeal to
Mr. Grimshaw's feelings, when I get to the city; and I know, if he's
a man, he'll let Manuel stay on board, if I pledge my honor that he
won't leave the craft."
"Humph!--If you knew him as well as I do, you'd save your own
feelings. His sympathies don't run that way," said the pilot.
The Janson had now crossed the bar, and was fast approaching Fort
Sumpter. Manuel had overheard enough of the conversation to awaken
fears for his own safety. Arising from the mattrass, in a manner
indicating his feeble condition, he called Tommy, and walking
forward, leaned over the rail near the fore-rigging, and inquired
what the Captain and the pilot were talking about. Observing his
fears, the little fellow endeavoured to quiet him by telling him
they were talking about bad sailors.
"I think it is me they are talking about. If they sell me for slave
in Charleston, I'll kill myself before a week," said he in his
broken English.
"What's that you say, Manuel?" inquired the first mate as he came
along, clearing up the decks with the men.
"Pilot tell Captain they sell me for slave in South Carolina. I'd
jump overboard 'fore I suffer him," said he.
"Oh, poh! don't be a fool; you a'n't among Patagonians, Manuel; you
won't have to give 'em leg for your life. They dont sell foreigners
and outlandish men like you for slaves in Carolina--it's only black
folks what can't clothe the'r words in plain English. Yer
copper-colored hide wouldn't be worth a sixpence to a
nigger-trader--not even to old Norman Gadsden, that I've heard 'em
tell so much about in the Liverpool docks. He's a regular Jonathan
Wild in nigger-dealing; his name's like a fiery dragon among the
niggers all over the South; and I hearn our skipper say once when I
sailed in a liner, that niggers in Charleston were so 'fraid of him
they'd run, like young scorpions away from an old he-devil, when
they saw him coming. He sells white niggers, as they call 'em, and
black niggers--any thing that comes in his way, in the shape of
saleable folks. But he won't acknowledge the corn when he goes away
from home, and swears there's two Norman Gadsdens in Charleston;
that he a'n't the one! When a man's ashamed of his name abroad, his
trade must be very bad at home, or I'm no sailor," said the mate.
"Ah, my boys!" said the pilot in a quizzical manner, as he came to
where several of the men were getting the larboard anchor ready to
let go,--"if old Norman Gadsden gets hold of you, you're a gone
sucker. A man what's got a bad nigger has only got to say Old
Gadsden to him, and it's equal to fifty paddles. The mode of
punishment most modern, and adopted in all the workhouses and places
of punishment in South Carolina, is with the paddle, a wooden
instrument in, the shape of a baker's peel; with a blade from three
to five inches wide, and from eight to ten long. This is laid on the
posteriors--generally by constables or officers connected with the
police. Holes are frequently bored in the blade, which gives the
application a sort of percussive effect; The pain is much more acute
than with the cowhide; and several instances are known where a
master ordered an amount of strokes beyond the endurance of the
slave, and it proved fatal. at the workhouse. They tell a pretty
good story about the old fellow. I don't know if it's true, but the
old fellow's rich now, and he does just what he pleases. It was that
somebody found one of those little occasional droppings of the
aristocracy, very well known among the secrets of the chivalry, and
called foundlings, nicely fixed up in a basket.--It's among the
secrets though, and mustn't be told abroad.--The finders labelled
it, 'Please sell to the highest bidder,' and left it at his door.
There was a fund of ominous meaning in the label; but Norman very
coolly took the little helpless pledge under his charge, and, with
the good nursing of old Bina, made him tell to the tune of two
hundred and thirty, cash, 'fore he was two year old. He went by the
name of Thomas Norman, the Christian division of his
foster-father's, according to custom. The old fellow laughs at the
joke, as he calls it, and tells 'em, when they stick it to him, they
don't understand the practice of making money. You must keep a
bright look out for him, Manuel--you'll know him by the niggers
running when they see him coming."
The pilot now returned to the quarter, and commenced dilating upon
the beauty of Charleston harbor and its tributaries, the Astley and
Cooper Rivers--then upon the prospects of fortifications to beat the
United States in the event of South Carolina's seceding and raising
an independent sovereignty, composed of her best blood. The Captain
listened to his unsolicited and uninteresting exposition of South
Carolina's prowess in silence, now and then looking up at the pilot
and nodding assent. He saw that the pilot was intent upon
astonishing him with his wonderful advancement in the theory of
government, and the important position of South Carolina. Again he
looked dumbfounded, as much as to acknowledge the pilot's
profundity, and exclaimed, "Well! South Carolina must be a devil of
a State: every thing seems captivated with its greatness: I'd like
to live in Carolina if I didn't get licked."
"By scissors! that you would, Captain; you ha'n't an idee what a
mighty site our people can do if they're a mind to! All South
Carolina wants is her constitutional rights, which her great men
fought for in the Revolution. We want the freedom to protect our own
rights and institutions--not to be insulted and robbed by the
General Government and the abolitionists."
"Do you practice as a people upon the same principles that you ask
of the General Government!" inquired the Captain.
"Certainly, Captain, as far as it was intended for the judicious
good of all white citizens!"
"Then you claim a right for the whites, but withhold the right when
it touches on the dark side. You'll have to lick the Federal
Government, as you call it, for they won't cut the constitution up
to suit your notions of black and white." * * *
"That's just the thing, Cap, and we can do it just as easy as we now
protect our own laws, and exterminate the niggers what attempt
insurrections. South Carolina sets an example, sir, of honor and
bravery that can't be beat. Why, just look a-yonder, Cap: the
Federal Government owns this 'er Fort Sumpter, and they insulted us
by building it right in our teeth, so that they could command the
harbor, block out our commerce, and collect the duties down here.
But, Cap, this don't scare South Carolina nohow. We can show 'em two
figures in war tactics that'd blow 'em to thunder. Ye see yonder!"
said he, with an earnest look of satisfaction, pointing to the
south, "That's Morris Island. We'd take Fort Moultrie for a
breakfast spell, and then we'd put it to 'em hot and strong from
both sides, until they'd surrender Fort Sumpter. They couldn't stand
it from both sides. Yes, sir, they shut Fort Moultrie against us,
and wouldn't let us have it to celebrate independence in. There's a
smouldering flame in South Carolina that'll burst forth one of these
days in a way that must teach the Federal Government some
astonishing and exciting lessons. There's old Castle Pinckney, sir;
we could keep it for a reserve, and with Generals Quattlebum and
Commander, from Georgetown and Santee Swamp, we could raise an army
of Palmetto regiments that would whip the Federal Government troop
and gun-boat."
We have given this singular conversation of the pilot with a strange
Captain, which at the time was taken as an isolated case of
gasconade peculiar to the man; but which the Captain afterward found
to harmonize in sentiment, feeling, and expression with the general
character of the people--the only exceptions being the colored
people.
CHAPTER VII.
ARRIVAL OF THE JANSON.
ABOUT five o'clock on the evening of the 23d, the Janson passed
Castle Pinckney, ran up to the wharf with the flood-tide, let go her
anchor, and commenced warping into the dock. Her condition attracted
sundry persons to the end of the wharf, who viewed her with a sort
of commiseration that might have been taken for sincere feeling. The
boarding officer had received her papers, and reported her character
and condition, which had aroused a feeling of speculative curiosity,
that was already beginning to spread among ship-carpenters and
outfitters.
Conspicuous among those gathered on the wharf was a diminutive
little dandy, with an olive-colored frock-coat, black pants,
embroidered vest, and an enormous shirt-collar that endangered his
ears. This was secured around the neck with a fancy neckcloth, very
tastefully set off with a diamond pin, He was very slender, with a
narrow, feminine face, round popeyes--requiring the application of a
pocket-glass every few minutes--and very fair complexion, with little
positive expression of character in his features. His nose was
pointed; his chin, projected and covered with innumerable little
pimples, gave an irregular and mastiff-shaped mouth a peculiar
expression. He wore a very highly-polished and high-heeled pair of
boots, and a broad-brimmed, silk-smooth hat. He seemed very anxious
to display the beauty of two diamond rings that glittered upon his
delicate little fingers, made more conspicuous by the wristbands of
his shirt. Standing in a very conspicuous place upon the capsill of
the wharf, he would rub his hands, then running from one part of the
wharf to another, ordering sundry niggers about making fast the
lines, kicking one, and slapping another, as he stooped, with his
little hand. All paid respect to him. The Captain viewed him with a
smile of curiosity, as much as to say, "What important specimen of a
miss in breeches is that?" But when the little fellow spoke, the
secret was told. He gathered the inflections of his voice, as if he
were rolling them over the little end of a thunderbolt in his mouth.
As the vessel touched the wharf, he sprang to the corner and cried
out at the top of his voice, "Yer' welcome to Charleston, Captain
Thompson! Where did you get that knocking?--where are ye bound
for?--how many days are you out?--how long has she leaked in that
way?" and a strain of such questions, which it would be impossible
to trace, such was the rapidity with which he put them. The Captain
answered him in accordance with the circumstances; and supposing him
clothed with authority, inquired where he should find some hands to
work his pumps, in order to relieve his men. "By-Je-w-hu! Captain,
you must a' had a piping time, old feller. Oh! yes, you want help to
work your pumps. Get niggers, Captain, there's lots on 'em about
here. They're as thick as grasshoppers in a cotton-patch."
"Yes, but I want 'em now, my men are worn out; I must get some
Irishmen, if I can't get others at once," said the Captain, viewing
his man again from head to foot.
"Oh! don't employ Paddies, Captain; 'ta'n't popular; they don't
belong to the secession party; Charleston's overrun with them and
the Dutch! Why, she won't hurt to lay till to-morrow morning, and
there'll be lots o' niggers down; they can't be out after bell-ring
without a pass, and its difficult to find their masters after dark.
Haul her up 'till she grounds, and she won't leak when the tide
leaves her. We can go to the theatre and have a right good supper
after, at Baker's or the St. Charles's. It's the way our folks live.
We live to enjoy ourselves in South Carolina. Let the old wreck go
to-night." The little fellow seemed so extremely polite, and so
anxious to "do the genteel attention," that the Captain entirely
forgot the tenor of his conversation with the pilot, while his
feelings changed with the prospect of such respectful attention; and
yet he seemed at a loss how to analyze the peculiar character of his
little, pedantic friend.
"You must not think me intrusive, Captain," said he, pulling out his
segar-pouch and presenting it with at Chesterfieldian politeness.
"It's a pleasure we Carolinians take in being hospitable and
attentive to strangers. My name, sir, is--! My niggers call me
Master George. Yes, sir! our family!--you have heard of my father
probably--he belongs to one of the best stocks in Carolina--owns a
large interest in this wharf, and is an extensive cotton-broker,
factors, we call them here--and he owns a large plantation of niggers
on Pee-Dee; you must visit our plantation. Captain, certain! before
you leave the city. But you mustn't pay much attention to the gossip
you'll hear about the city. I pledge you my honor, sir, it don't
amount to any thing, nor has it any prominent place in our society."
"Really, sir," replied the Captain, "I shall do myself the honor to
accept of your hospitable kindness, and hope it may be my good
fortune to reciprocate at some future day. I'm only too sorry that
our wrecked condition affords me no opportunity to invite you to my
table to-night; but the circumstances which you see everywhere
presenting themselves are my best apology."
"Oh, dear me! don't mention it, I pray, Captain. Just imagine
yourself perfectly at home. We will show you what Southern
hospitality is. We don't go upon the Yankee system of Mr. So-and-so
and What-do-ye-call-'um. Our feelings are in keeping with our State
pride, which, with our extreme sensibility of honor, forbids the
countenance of meanness. South Carolinians, sir, are at the very top
of the social ladder--awake to every high-minded consideration of
justice and right. We are not moved by those morbid excitements and
notions that so often lead people away at the North. Make no
unnecessary preparation, Captain, and I will do myself the honor to
call upon you in an hour." Thus saying, he shook his hand and left.
The pilot had delivered his charge safe, and was about to, bid the
Captain good-by for the night. But in order to do the thing in
accordance with an English custom, that appears to have lost none of
its zest in South Carolina, he was invited into the Captain's cabin
to take a little prime old Jamaica. Manuel, who had somewhat
recovered, brought out the case from a private locker, and setting
it before them, they filled up, touched glasses, and drank the usual
standing toast to South Carolina. "Pilot," said the Captain, "who
is my polite friend--he seems a right clever little fellow?"
"Well, Captain, he's little, but he's first-rate blood, and a
genuine sprig of the chivalry. He's a devil of a secessionist, sir.
If ye were to hear that fellow make a stump speech on States'
rights, you'd think him a Samson on Government. His father is the
head of a good mercantile house here; 'twouldn't be a bad idea to
consign to him. But I must bid you good-night, Captain; I'll call
and see you to-morrow," said the pilot, leaving for his home.
The Janson was hauled well up the dock, and grounded on the
ebb-tide. Manuel prepared supper for the officers and crew, while
the Captain awaited the return of his new acquaintance. "Captain,"
said Manuel, "I should like to go ashore to-night and take a walk,
for my bones are sore, and I'm full of pains. I think it will do me
good. You don't think anybody will trouble me, if I walk peaceably
along?"
"Nobody would trouble you if they knew you, Manuel; but I am afraid
they will mistake you in the night. You had better keep ship until
morning; take a good rest, and to-morrow will be a fine day--you can
then take some exercise."
Manuel looked at the Captain as if he read something doubtful in his
countenance, and turned away with a pitiful look of dissatisfaction.
It seems that through his imperfect knowledge of English, he had
misconceived the position of the celebrated Thomas Norman Gadsden,
whom he imagined to be something like an infernal machine, made and
provided by the good citizens of Charleston to catch bad niggers.
"Nora-ma Gazine no catch-e me, Cap-i-tan, if me go ashore, 'case me
no make trouble in no part de world where me sail, Oh! no,
Cap-i-tan, Manuel know how to mine dis bisness," said he returning
again to the Captain.
"Yes, yes, Manuel, but we can't let the crew go ashore 'till we get
through the custom-house; you must content yourself to-night, and in
the morning 'twill be all right. I'm afraid you'll get sick
again-the night-air is very bad in this climate; old Gadsden won't
trouble you. He don't walk about at night."
Manuel walked forward, not very well satisfied with the manner in
which the Captain put him off. The latter felt the necessity of
caution, fearing he might infringe upon some of the municipal
regulations that the pilot had given him an account of, which
accounted for his refusal Manuel sat upon the main-hatch fondling
Tommy, and telling him what good things they would have in the
morning for breakfast, and how happy they ought to be that they were
not lost during the gales, little thinking that he was to be the
victim of a merciless law, which would confine him within the iron
grates of a prison before the breakfast hour in the morning. "I like
Charleston, Tommy," said Manuel; "it looks like one of our old
English towns, and the houses have such pretty gardens, and the
people they say are all so rich and live so fine. Tommy, we'll have
a long walk and look all around it, so that we can tell the folks
when we get home. The ship, owes me eleven pounds, and I mean to
take some good things home for presents, to show what they have in
South Carolina."
"You better buy a young nigger, and take him home as a curiosity to
show among the Highlands. You can buy a young Sambo for any price,
just the same as you would a leg of mutton at the butcher's; put him
in a band-box, lug him across, and you'll make a fortune in the
North country. But I'd rather buy a young wife, for the young
niggers are more roguish than a lot o' snakes, and al'a's eat their
heads off afore they're big enough to toddle. They sell gals here
for niggers whiter than you are, Manuel; they sell 'em at auction,
and then they sell corn to feed 'em on. Carolina's a great region of
supersensual sensibility; they give you a wife of any color or
beauty, and don't charge you much for her, providing you're the
right stripe. What a funny thing it would be to show the Glasgow
folks a bright specimen of a bought wife from the renowned State of
South Carolina, with genuine aristocratic blood in her veins; yes, a
pure descendant of the Huguenots!" said the mate, who was leaning
over the rail where Manuel and Tommy were seated, smoking a segar
and viewing the beautiful scenery around the harbor.
"Ah!" said Manuel, "when I get a wife and live on shore, I don't
want to buy one-it might be a dangerous bargain. Might buy the body,
but not the soul-that's God's."
CHAPTER VIII.
A NEW DISH OF SECESSION.
ABOUT a quarter past eight o'clock in the evening, Master George, as
he called himself, the little pedantic man, came skipping down the
wharf. As soon as he approached the brig, he cried out at the top of
his voice, "Captain! Captain!!"
The Captain stepped to the gangway, and the little fellow, who had
stood crossing and working his fingers, reached out his hand to
assist him ashore. This done, he took the Captain's arm, and
commencing a discourse upon the wonderful things and people of South
Carolina they wended their way to the Charleston Theatre. The
company then performing was a small affair, and the building itself
perfectly filthy, and filled with an obnoxious stench. The play was
a little farce, which the Captain had seen to much perfection in his
own country, and which required some effort of mind to sit out its
present mutilation. Yet, so highly pleased was Master George, that
he kept up a succession of applauses at every grimace made by the
comedian. Glad when the first piece was over, the Captain made a
motion to adjourn to the first good bar-room and have a punch. It
was agreed, upon the condition that the little man should "do the
honor," and that they should return and see the next piece out. The
Captain, of course, yielded to the rejoinder, though it was
inflicting a severe penalty upon his feelings. There was another
piece to come yet, which the little fellow's appetite was as ready
to devour as the first. The Captain, seeing this, could not refrain
expressing his surprise. This was taken as a charge against his
taste, and George immediately commenced a discussion upon the
subject of the piece, the intention of the author, and the merits of
the principal performers, whose proper adaptation he admired. The
Captain knew his subject, and instead of contending in detail,
advised him to take a peep into the theatres of New York and London.
Not to be undone, for he was like all little men, who insist upon
the profoundness of their own opinions, he asserted that it could be
only the different views which individuals entertained of
delineating character, and that the Charlestonians were proverbially
correct in their judgment of music and dramatic performances.
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