The Kidnapped And The Ransomed Part 2

He owned a brick-yard of about five acres, and had, in all, twenty slaves. These he fed sparingly, clothed scantily, and worked hard.

In the winter, when they could not make brick, he was accustomed to hire them out wherever he could get the highest price for their services.

Mr. Gist had now among his people four boys-- Levin and Peter, with Alfred and Allison, who were also brothers. They had been brought from Virginia, where their parents still remained.*

* The mother of these two boys, who belonged to one George Lewis, in Virginia, has recently, with several of her other children, escaped from slavery, and travelled, by the "underground railroad,"

to Canada.

Peter was not long in becoming a special favorite with his new master. Yet the strange old man never evinced his preference by any peculiar kindness of word or act. That would contradict his theory. He believed there was nothing so good for a n.i.g.g.e.r as frequent floggings; and while he kept Peter near him as much as possible, and always chose him to wait upon him, he never abated towards him a jot of his accustomed severity. An incident that occurred soon after he purchased the two boys of Mr. Fisher, will ill.u.s.trate his method of governing them.

He had come home from town, as usual, much intoxicated, and ordered Peter to scatter a couple of bundles of oats on the ground, for his horse. The boy obeyed, but strewed them over rather more s.p.a.ce than was necessary. In a few minutes, his master appeared.

"Did you feed Ned his oats?"

"Yes, Sir."

"I'll see if you have done it right." And, muttering curses as he went, he proceeded to the yard, where the horse was eating.

"What the d--l did you throw them all about for?"

"Why, ma.s.s'r, you told me to scatter 'em."

Quick the old man's cane descended on the offender's head. "I did'nt tell you to scatter them all over the yard. Follow me to the house. I'll give you a lesson."

Peter walked slowly behind him to the door.

"Now take off your s.h.i.+rt, you rascal, and cross your hands."

The boy obeyed; and his master, after tying, his hands together, drew them down over his knees, where he confined them by means of a stick thrust under his knees. He then beat him with a cowhide, first on one side, and then on the other, till his drunken rage was appeased. "There, you black cuss," cried he, when he had finished, "I mean to make a good n.i.g.g.e.r of you, and there's no way to do it, only by showing you who's master."

This method of confining a negro for punishment is called "bucking" him, and it is much practised in slave-land. The culprit is frequently left in the "buck" several hours--sometimes, indeed, all night-- and, in such cases, the protracted straining of the muscles causes intense pain.

A few benevolent individuals, about this time, established a Sabbath School in Lexington, for the instruction of such slaves as might be permitted by their masters to learn.

At this proceeding Master Nattie was indignant. He would not have his n.i.g.g.e.rs spoiled by getting Learning--no, indeed! n.i.g.g.e.rs were bad enough, without being set up by such rascals as these Sunday School teachers. They'd better not meddle with his property; and if he heard of one of his boys going near the school, he'd give him such a flogging that he'd never need any more education.

But in the breast of one of these slave boys burned a thirst for knowledge so intense, that even this terrible threat could not deter him from making one effort to learn. Peter went to the school.

The teacher received him kindly, and inquired for his "pa.s.s."

"Ain't got none, ma.s.sa."

"I am sorry," said the teacher, "for we are not permitted to instruct any servants without the consent of their masters."

Peter knew this very well; and he also knew that to ask his master for a pa.s.s would be only to apply for a whipping; but he did so long to learn to read, he could not go away. He looked around on the pupils. Their masters allowed them to come, and surely not one of them could learn so quick as he. He determined to make a desperate effort to stay that one day, at least. So he told the teacher that his master didn't care nothin' 'bout his comin'--he'd get a pa.s.s next Sunday; and he was permitted to remain.

The next Sabbath, when the school was opened, Peter stood among the pupils. The other boys presented their pa.s.ses--his did not appear. He had forgotten to ask his master, but would be sure to remember it the next Sunday.

But on the third Sabbath he was no better off. His master had gone from home early in the morning, and of course it was impossible for him to get a pa.s.s in his absence. The teacher once more allowed him to remain, but a.s.sured him that no such excuses would be taken in future.

The fourth Sabbath came, and Peter walked boldly into the school.

"Pa.s.s, boy!" as usual, was the first salutation.

"Ain't got none," replied he. "Ma.s.s' Nattie say, don't need none; no use, no how."

The teacher began to suspect the true state of the case, and though he would gladly have aided to illumine that eager intellect, that was "stretching forward to the light," yet he was forced to thrust it back into the darkness, lest a prejudice should be aroused which would palsy all his efforts. So he positively forbade Peter's future entrance to the school without a pa.s.s, and he was thereafter obliged to seek for amus.e.m.e.nt on Sundays in some other direction.

He had, in these four Sundays, learned the alphabet, and could spell a few words, and hard and bitter was the fate that consigned him thenceforward to ignorance.

"Oh," thought he, "if I could only learn to read! I could find out the way to write myself. Then I might write letters to Philadelphia, and let our mother know what's 'come of her chilluns. There's white boys in town that goes to school every day, that would a heap ruther play in the street. I's seen 'em runnin' off to keep clar of the mas'r in the mornin'. Reckon, if I could go to school, n.o.body wouldn't cotch me runnin' off that way."

CHAPTER IV.

THE TOBACCO FACTORY.

AFTER Levin and Peter had worked for four summers in the brickyard, their master hired them, with Alfred and Allison, to Mr.

George Norton, a tobacconist, who at that time carried on an extensive business in Lexington.

They had been hired out before to different persons during the winter. Peter had, one winter, served as waiter, a cousin of his master, Mr. Sandford Keene. This was his first introduction to house service, as well as his first experience, since he became a slave, of genuine kindness. Mrs. Keene was a n.o.ble-hearted lady, who delighted to promote the happiness of all around her, and Peter loved to serve her acceptably.

But to this Mr. Norton they were hired for the whole year; and violent as Master Nattie in his phrensied hours, and carefully as he avoided every indulgence towards them which might seem to recognize their humanity, they dreaded to exchange him for this new master, for of him report spake never kindly.

Mr. George Norton--ah! how grand he looked as he stood near the shop door conversing with his overseer! His broad-brimmed hat seemed conscious of its elevated position, and his hair descending in a cue behind was stiff and stately. The very smoke from his cigar ascended with a consequential puff, and his cane thumped on the sidewalk in exact accordance with the great man's varying moods. It had a gentle tap to answer words of compliment, or salutations from the rich or beautiful. But when a breath of contradiction came, or any sable menial hesitated to obey his slightest wish, the expressive staff beat furiously upon the pavement, in token of the vengeance that should fall upon the offender's head.

A fit foil to his pompous superior was the overseer, Mr. Kisich.

Small and pale, awkward in his manners, and "slightly lame," he seemed totally indifferent to his personal appearance, and gloried only in the force and accuracy with which he could execute his employer's plans.

He was a native of the Emerald Isle, as his "rich brogue" plainly indicated; and, like some of his more distinguished countrymen in these later days, claimed liberty for Irishmen, and equality with the n.o.blest in every land. But when

"He found his fellow guilty of a skin

Not colored like his own,"

he could see him bought and sold, and tasked, and beaten, without a single impulse of pity.

About thirty men and boys were employed in Mr. Norton's establishment. Of these, three were white men, who were hired to do that part of the work which required more experience and skill than the negroes were supposed to possess. These acted as spies and informers; making the privilege of tyrannizing over their dark-skinned fellows, a sort of compensation for the degradation which is inseparable, in slave-land, from the necessity of labor.

Peter and Allison succeeded admirably in pleasing Mr. Norton. He liked their ready obedience, and their sprightly, nimble movements. When he gave an order, he could not wait with patience its dilatory execution, and they loved to surprise him by returning from an errand, or by finis.h.i.+ng a task earlier than he expected. Yet by this they won no praise. It was but their duty, and they had reason to rejoice if, by performing it, they escaped the cow-hide.

For several months they thus succeeded in avoiding any outbreak of his wrath. They had been accustomed to no mild exercise of authority, and the angry strife they often witnessed, seemed to them, if not quite necessary, unavoidable at times. Force was their law, and force their motive to obedience; and but for their brother-love, and the warm memory of their mother, their hearts must have grown callous and incapable of affectionate response.

For Levin and Peter there was ever a bright morning in remembrance, and they were young--could they live without the hope of returning once more to that mother-home? Humble was the cabin which they delighted to remember, but the suns.h.i.+ne came freely in at the open door, and no harsh word was ever heard within the lowly walls.

How sweet, how soothing, was the influence of these cherished retrospects! How often, when their tasks were finished, the two brothers strolled away from the noisy mirth with which their companions were beguiling the twilight hour, and in low tones discussed the possibilities of an escape from slavery--a return to the dear home where they had known no care nor fear.

A hundred plans they at different times suggested to each other, but the execution of any one of them required more knowledge than they possessed, or could acquire. And then there were so many that failed in such attempts. The jail was always tenanted by captured fugitives. No--they could not run away.