Books: With Lee in Virginia; A Story Of The American Civil War

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"I know you are quite right, Jonas, in what you say. But there were
always four hands in the stable in my father's time, and there
always have been up to now; and though I know they have an easy
time of it, I certainly should not like to send any of them out to the
fields. As to Dan, we will think about it. When his father was
about his age he used to lead my pony when I first took to riding,
and when there is a vacancy Dan must come into the stable. I
could not think of sending him out as a field hand, in the first
place for his father's sake, but still more for that of Vincent. Dan
used to be told off to see that he did not get into mischief when he
was a little boy, and he has run messages and been his special boy
since he came back. Vincent wanted to have him as his regular
house servant; but it would have broken old Sam's heart if, after
being my father's boy and my husband's, another had taken his
place as Vincent's."

And so Dan had remained in the stable, but regarding Vincent as
his special master, carrying notes for him to his friends, or doing
any odd jobs he might require, and spending no small portion of
his time in sleep. Thus he was an object of special dislike to the
overseer; in the first place because he had not succeeded in having
his way with regard to him, and in the second because he was a
useless hand, and the overseer loved to get as much work as
possible out of every one on the estate. The message had been a
somewhat important one, as he wanted the slaves for some work
that was urgently required; and he lost his temper, or he would not
have done an act which would certainly bring him into collision
with Vincent.

He was well aware that the lad did not really like him, and that his
efforts to gain his good-will had failed, and he had foreseen that
sooner or later there would be a struggle for power between them.
However, he relied upon his influence with Mrs. Wingfield, and
upon the fact that she was the life-owner of the Orangery, and
believed that he would be able to maintain his position even when
Vincent came of age. Vincent on his side objected altogether to
the overseer's treatment of the hands, of which he heard a good
deal from Dan, and bad already remonstrated with his mother on
the subject. He, however, gained nothing by this. Mrs. Wingfield
had replied that he was too young to interfere in such matters, that
his English ideas would not do in Virginia, and that naturally the
slaves were set against the overseer; and that now Pearson had no
longer a master to support him, he was obliged to be more severe
than before to enforce obedience. At the same time it vexed her at
heart that there should be any severity on the Orangery estate,
where the best relations had always prevailed between the masters
and slaves, and she had herself spoken to Jonas on the subject.

He had given her the same answer that she had given her son: "The
slaves will work for a master, Mrs. Wingfield, in a way they will
not for a stranger. They set themselves against me, and if I were
not severe with them I should get no work at all cut of them. Of
course, if you wish it, they can do as they like; but in that case they
must have another overseer. I cannot see a fine estate going to
ruin. I believe myself some of these Abolition fellows have been
getting among them and doing them mischief, and that there is a
bad spirit growing up among them. I can assure you that I am as
lenient with them as is possible to be. But if they won't work I
must make them, so long as I stay here."

And so the overseer had had his way. She knew that the man was
a good servant, and that the estate was kept in excellent order.
After all, the seventies of which she had heard complaints were by
no means excessive; and it was not to he expected that a Northern
overseer could rule entirely by kindness, as the owner of an estate
could do. A change would be most inconvenient to her, and she
would have difficulty in suiting herself so well another time.
Besides, the man had been with her sixteen years, and was, as she
believed, devoted to her interests. Therefore she turned a deaf ear
to Vincent's remonstrances.

She had always been somewhat opposed to his being left in
England at school, urging that he would learn ideas there that
would clash with those of the people among whom his life was to
be spent; and she still considered that her views had been justified
by the result.

The overseer was the first to give his version of the story shout
Dan's conduct; for on going to the house Vincent found his sisters,
Rosa and Annie, in the garden, having just returned from a two
days' visit to some friends in Richmond, and stayed chatting with
them and listening to their news for an hour, and in the meantime
Jonas had gone in and seen Mrs. Wingfield and told his story.

"I think, Mrs. Wingfield," he said when he had finished, "that it
will be better for me to leave you. It is quite evident that I can
have no authority over the hands if your son is to interfere when I
am about to punish a slave for an act of gross disobedience and
neglect. I found that all the tobacco required turning, and now it
will not be done this afternoon owing to my orders not being
carried out, and the tobacco will not improbably be injured in
quality. My position is difficult enough as it is; but if the slaves
see that instead of being supported I am thwarted by your son, my
authority is gone altogether. No overseer can carry on his work
properly under such circumstances."

"I will see to the matter, Jonas," Mrs. Wingfield said decidedly.
"Be assured that you have my entire support, and I will see that my
son does not again interfere."

When, therefore, Vincent entered the house and began his
complaint he found himself cut short.

"I have heard the story already, Vincent. Dan acted in gross
disobedience, and thoroughly deserved the punishment Jonas was
about to give him. The work of the estate cannot be carried on if
such conduct is to be tolerated; and once for all, I will permit no
interference on your part with Jonas. If you have any complaints
to make, come to me and make them; but you are not yourself to
interfere in any way with the overseer. As for Dan, I have directed
Jonas that the next time he gives cause for complaint he is to go
into the fields."

Vincent stood silent for a minute, then he said quietly:

"Very well, mother. Of course you can do as you like; but at any
rate I will not keep my month shut when I see that fellow
ill-treating the slaves. Such things were never done in my father's
time, and I won't see them done now. You said tile other day you
would get me a nomination to West Point as soon as I was sixteen.
I should be glad if you would do so. By the time I have gone
through the school, you will perhaps see that I have been right
about Jonas."

So saying, he turned and left the room and again joined his sisters
in the drawing-room.

"I have just told mother that I will go to West Point, girls," he said.
"Father said more than once that he thought it was the best
education I could get in America."

"But I thought you had made up your mind that you would rather
stop at home, Vincent?"

"So I had, and so I would have done, but mother and I differ in
opinion That fellow Jonas was going to flog Dan, and I stopped
him this morning, and mother takes his part against me. You
know, I don't like the way he goes on with the slaves. They are not
half so merry and happy as they used to be, and I don't like it. We
shall have one of them running away next, and that will be a nice
thing on what used to be considered one of the happiest plantations
in Virginia. I can't make mother out; I should have thought that
she would have been the last person in the world to have allowed
the slaves to be harshly treated."

"I am sure we don't like Jonas more than you do, Vincent; but you
see mamma has to depend upon him so much. No, I don't think
she can like it; but you can't have everything you like in a man, and
I know she thinks he is a very good overseer. I suppose she could
get another?"

Vincent said he thought that there could not be much difficulty
about getting an overseer.

"There might be a difficulty in getting one she could rely on so
thoroughly," Rosa said. "You see a great deal must be left to him.
Jonas has been here a good many years now, and she has learned
to trust him. It would be a long time before she had the same
confidence in a stranger; and you may be sure that he would have
his faults, though, perhaps, not the same as those of Jonas. I think
you don't make allowance enough for mamma, Vincent. I quite
agree with you as to Jonas, and I don't think mamma can like his
harshness to the slaves any more than you do; but every one says
what a difficulty it is to get a really trustworthy and capable
overseer, and, of course, it is all the harder when there is no master
to look after him."

"Well, in a few years I shall be able to look after an overseer,"
Vincent said.

"You might do so, of course, Vincent, if you liked; but unless you
change a good deal, I don't think your supervision would amount to
much. When you are not at school you are always on horseback
and away, and we see little enough of you, and I do not think you
are likely for a long time yet to give up most of your time to
looking after the estate."

"Perhaps you are right," Vincent said, after thinking for a minute;
"hut I think I could settle down too, and give most of my time to
the estate, if I was responsible for it. I dare say mother is in a
difficulty over it, and I should not have spoken as I did; I will go in
and tell her so."

Vincent found his mother sitting as he had left her. Although she
had sided with Jonas, it was against her will; for it was grievous to
her to hear complaints of the treatment of the slaves at the
Orangery. Still, as Rosa had said, she felt every confidence in her
overseer, and believed that he was an excellent servant. She was
conscious that she herself knew nothing of business, and that she
must therefore give her entire confidence to her manager. She
greatly disliked the strictness of Jonas; but if, as he said, the slaves
would not obey him without, he must do as lie thought best.

"I think I spoke too hastily, mother," Vincent said as he entered;
"and I am sure that you would not wish the slaves to be ill-treated
more than I should. I dare say Jonas means for the best."

"I feel sure that he does, Vincent. A man in his position cannot
make himself obeyed like a master. I wish it could be otherwise,
and I will speak to him on the subject; but it will not do to
interfere with him too much. A good overseer is not easy to get,
and the slaves are always ready to take advantage of leniency. An
easy master makes bad work, but an easy overseer would mean
ruin to an estate. I am convinced that Jonas has our interests at
heart, and I will tell him that I particularly wish that he will devise
some other sort of punishment, such as depriving men who won't
work of some of their privileges instead of using the lash."

"Thank you, mother. At any rate, he might he told that the lash is
never to be used without first appealing to you."

"I will see about it, Vincent, and talk it over with him." And with
that Vincent was satisfied.

CHAPTER II. BUYING A SLAVE.

MRS. WINGFIELD did talk the matter over with the overseer, and
things went on in consequence more smoothly. Vincent, however,
adhered to his wish, and it was arranged that as soon as he could
get a nomination he should go to West Point, which is to the
American army what Sandhurst and Woolwich are to England.
Before that could he done, however, a great political agitation
sprang up. The slaves States were greatly excited over the prospect
of a Republican president being chosen, for the Republicans were
to a great extent identified with the abolition movement; and
public feeling, which had for some time run high, became
intensified as the time approached for the election of a new
president, and threats that if the Democrats were beaten and a
Republican elected the slave States would secede from the Union,
were freely indulged in.

In Virginia, which was one of the most northern of the slave
States, opinion was somewhat divided, there being a strong
minority against any extreme measures being taken. Among
Vincent's friends, however, who were for the most part the sons of
planters, the Democratic feeling was very strongly in the
ascendant, and their sympathies were wholly with the Southern
States. That these had a right to secede was assumed by them as
being unquestionable.

But in point of fact there was a great deal to be said on both sides.
The States which first entered the Union in 1776 considered
themselves to be separate and sovereign States, each possessing
power and authority to manage its own affairs, and forming only a
federation in order to construct a central power, and so to operate
with more effect against the mother country. Two years later the
constitution of the United States was framed, each State giving up
a certain portion of its authority, reserving its own self-government
and whatever rights were not specifically resigned.

No mention was made in the constitution of the right of a State to
secede from the Union, and while those who insisted that each
State had a right to secede if it chose to do so declared that this
right was reserved, their opponents affirmed that such a case could
never have been contemplated. Thus the question of absolute right
had never been settled, and it became purely one of force.

Early in November, 1860, it became known that the election of
Mr. Lincoln, the Republican candidate, was assured, and on the
ninth of that month the representatives of South Carolina met at
Charleston, and unanimously authorized the holding of a State
convention to meet in the third week in December. The
announcement caused great excitement, for it was considered
certain that the convention would pass a vote of secession, and
thus bring the debated question to an issue. Although opinion in
Virginia was less unanimous than in the more southern States, it
was generally thought that she would imitate the example of South
Carolina.

On the day following the receipt of the news, Vincent, who had
ridden over to the plantations of several of his friends to talk the
matter over, was returning homeward, when he heard the sound of
heavy blows with a whip and loud curses, and a moment later a
shrill scream in a woman's voice rose in the air.

Vincent checked his horse mechanically with an exclamation of
auger. He knew but too well what was going on beyond the screen
of shrubs that grew on the other side of the fence bordering the
road. For a moment he hesitated, and then muttering, "What's the
use!" was about to touch the horse with the whip and gallop on,
when the shriek again rose louder and more agonizing than before.
With a cry of rage Vincent leaped from his horse, threw the reins
over the top of the fence, climbed over it in a moment, and burst
his way through the shrubbery.

Close by a negro was being held by four others, two having hold of
each wrist and holding his arms extended to full length, while a
white lad, some two years Vincent's senior, was showering blows
with a heavy whip upon him. The slave's back was already
covered with weals, and the blood was flowing from several
places. A few yards distant a black girl, with a baby in her arms,
was kneeling on the ground screaming for mercy for the slave.
Just as Vincent burst through the bushes, the young fellow,
irritated at her cries, turned round and delivered a tremendous
blow with the whip on her bare shoulders.

This time no cry came from her lips, but the slave, who had stood
immovable while the punishment was being inflicted upon
himself, made a desperate effort to break from the men who held
him. He was unsuccessful, but before the whip could again fall on
the woman's shoulders, Vincent sprang forward, and seizing it,
wrested it from the hands of the striker. With an oath of fury and
surprise at this sudden interruption, the young fellow turned upon
Vincent.

"You are a coward and a blackguard, Andrew Jackson!" Vincent
exclaimed, white with auger. "You are a disgrace to Virginia, you
ruffian!"

Without a word the young planter, mad with rage at this
interference, rushed at Vincent; but the atter had learned the use of
his fists at his English school, and riding exercises had
strengthened his muscles, and as his opponent rushed at him, he
met him with a blow from the shoulder which sent him staggering
back with the blood streaming from his lips. He again rushed
forward, and heavy blows were exchanged; then they closed and
grappled. For a minute they swayed to and from but although
much taller, the young planter was no stronger than Vincent, and at
last they came to the ground with a crash, Vincent uppermost,
Jackson's head as he fell coming with such force against a low
stump that he lay insensible.

The contest had been so sudden and furious that none had
attempted to interfere. Indeed the negroes were so astonished that
they had not moved from the moment when Vincent made his
appearance upon the scene. The lad rose to his feet.

"You had better carry him up to the house and throw some water
on him," he said to the negroes, and then turned to go away. As he
did so, the slave who had been flogged broke from the others, who
had indeed loosened their hold, and ran up to Vincent, threw
himself on his knees, and taking the lad's hand pressed it to his
lips.

"I am afraid I haven't done you much good," Vincent said. "You
will be none the better off for my interference; but I couldn't help
it." So saying he made his way through the shrubbery, cleared the
fence, mounted, and route homeward.

"I have been a fool," he said to himself as he rode along. "It will be
all the worse for that poor beggar afterward; still I could not help
it. I wonder will there be any row about it. I don't much expect
there will, the Jacksons don't stand well now, and this would not
do them any good with the people round; besides I don't think
Jackson would like to go into court to complain of being thrashed
by a fellow a head shorter than himself. It's blackguards like him
who give the Abolitionists a right to hold up the slave-owners as
being tyrants and brutes."

The Jacksons were newcomers in Virginia. Six years before, the
estate, of which the Cedars, as their place was called, formed a
part, was put up for sale. It was a very large one, and having been
divided into several portions to suit buyers, the Cedars had been
purchased by Jackson, who, having been very successful as a
storekeeper at Charleston, had decided upon giving up the business
and leaving South Carolina, and settling down as a land-owner in
some other State. His antecedents, however, were soon known at
Richmond, and the old Virginian families turned a cold shoulder to
the newcomer.

Had he been a man of pleasant manners, he would gradually have
made his way; but he was evidently not a gentleman. The habits of
trade stuck to him, and in a very short time there were rumors that
the slaves, whom he had bought with the property, found him a
harsh and cruel master. This in itself would have been sufficient
to bring him disrepute in Virginia, where as a rule the slaves were
treated with great kindness, and indeed considered their position to
be infinitely superior to that of the poorer class of whites. Andrew
Jackson had been for a few months at school with Vincent; lie was
unpopular there, and from the rumors current as to the treatment of
the slaves on the estate, was known by the nickname of the
"slave-driver."

Had Vincent been the son of a white trader, or a small cultivator,
he knew well enough that his position would he a very serious one,
and that he would have bad to ride to the border of the State with
all speed. He would have been denounced at once as an
Abolitionist, and would have been accused of stirring up the slaves
to rebellion against their masters; a crime of the most serious kind
in the Southern States. But placed as he was, as the heir of a great
estate worked by slaves, such a cry could hardly be raised against
him. He might doubtless be filled and admonished for interfering
between a master and his slave; but the sympathy of the better
classes in Virginia would be entirely with him. Vincent, therefore,
was but little concerned for himself; but he doubted greatly
whether his interference had not done much more harm than good
to the slave and his wife, for upon them Andrew Jackson would
vent his fury. He rode direct to the stables instead of alighting as
usual at the door. Dan, who had been sitting in the veranda
waiting for him, ran down to the stables as he saw him coming.

"Give the horse to one of the others, Dan; I want to speak to you.
Dan," he went on when he had walked with him a short distance
from the stables, "I suppose yen know some of the bands on
Jackson's plantation."

Dan grinned, for although there was not supposed to be any
communication between the slaves on the different estates, it was
notorious that at night they were in the habit of slipping out of
their huts and visiting each other.

"I know some oh dem, Massa Vincent. What you want ob dem?
Berry bad master, Massa Jackson. Wust master hereabouts."

Vincent related what had happened, to Dan's intense delight.

"Now, Dan," he went on, "I am afraid that after my interference
they will treat that poor fellow and his wife worse than before. I
want yen to find out for me what is going on at Jackson's. I do not
know that I can do anything, however badly they treat them; but I
have been thinking that if they ill-treat them very grossly, I will get
together a party of fifteen or twenty of my friends and we will go
in a body to Jackson's, and warn him that if he behaves with
cruelty to his slaves, we will make it so hot for him that he will
have to leave the state. I don't say that we could do anything; but
as we should represent most of the large estates round here, I don't
think old Jackson and his son would like being sent to Coventry.
The feeling is very strong at present against ill-treatment of the
slaves. If these troubles lead to war almost all of us will go into
the army, and we do not like the thought of the possibility of
troubles among the hands when the whites are all away."

"I will find out all about it for you to-night, sah. I don't suspect dat
dey will do nuffin to-day. Andrew Jackson too sick after dat knock
against de tump. He keep quiet a day or two."

"Well, Dan, you go over to-night and find out all about it. I expect
I had better have left things alone, but now I have interfered I shall
go on with it."

Mrs. Wingfield was much displeased when Vincent told her at
dinner of his incident at Jackson's plantation and even his sisters
were shocked at this interference between a master and his slave.

"You will get yourself into serious trouble with these fanciful
notions of yours," Mrs. Wingfield said angrily. "You know as well
as I do how easy it is to get up a cry against any one as an
Abolitionist and how difficult to disprove the accusation; and just
at present, when the passions of every man in the South are
inflamed to the utmost, such an accusation will be most serious.
In the present instance there does not seem that there is a shadow
of excuse for your conduct. You simply heard cries of a slave
being flogged. You deliberately leave the road and enter these
people's plantation and interfere without, so far as I can see, the
least reason for doing so. You did not inquire what the man's
offense was; and he may for aught you know have half murdered
his master. You simply see a slave being flogged and you assault
his owner. if the Jackson a lay complaints against you it is quite
probable that you may have to leave the state. What on earth can
have influenced you to act in such a mad-brained way?"

"I did not interfere to prevent his flogging the slave, mother, but to
prevent his flogging the slave's wife, which was pure wanton
brutality. It is not a question of slavery one way or the other. Any
one has a right to interfere to put a stop to brutality. If I saw a man
brutally treating a horse or a dog I should certainly do so; and if it
is right to interfere to save a dumb animal from brutal ill-treatment
surely it must be justifiable to save a woman in the same case. I
am not an Abolitionist. That is to say, I consider that slaves on a
properly managed estate, like ours, for instance, are just as well off
as are the laborers on an estate in Europe; but I should certainly
like to see laws passed to protect them from ill-treatment. Why, in
England there are laws against cruelty to animals; and a man who
brutally flogged a dog or a horse would get a month's
imprisonment with hard labor. I consider it a disgrace to us that a
man may here ill-treat a human being worse than he might in
England a dumb animal."

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