The Kidnapped And The Ransomed Part 8

"But I tell you, Levin, I can't let one of my boys have a wife at such a place as that. So don't talk any more about it. You can hunt up another girl that will suit you better."

Poor Levin walked away. He was sadly disappointed. He knew his master had good cause for disliking to have his people a.s.sociate with old Jimmy Hogun's negroes; but he and f.a.n.n.y loved each other so dearly that he could not give her up.

Mr. James Hogun was a bachelor--an eccentric man-- silent and unsociable. He was seldom seen from home, even within the circle of his own family connections.

But though as an individual, he was little known, his place was famed in all the country around as the scene of most disgraceful proceedings. No white woman inhabited the premises, but many beautiful slave girls embellished his demesne. Here "patrollers"

and other wild and reckless characters were wont to resort at night, and, free from all restraint, to give the rein to every evil pa.s.sion.

All this was well known to Levin--but f.a.n.n.y, he was sure, was not like her companions. She was good and true, and she loved him.

He disliked exceedingly to offend his master who had always been so kind to him, and yet he could not decide to sacrifice his deepest, truest affection. For some time he hesitated, but at last love conquered; and without the approbation of his master, he took the lively f.a.n.n.y for his wife.

Mr. and Mrs. Gist were both displeased. They had reasoned with Levin, and sought by every kind method to dissuade him from this measure, and his disobedience gave them real pain.

Levin had hoped that, once married, all his troubles would be past, but he soon ascertained that they had but just commenced.

He could seldom go to see his wife, for the overseer, aware that his master was opposed to his going, placed every possible impediment in his way. Once, indeed, he went so far, the day after one of these stolen visits, as to strip him and tie him up, intending to whip him well. The master, however, forbade the execution of this design, and the disappointed ruffian could only avenge his wounded pride by crus.h.i.+ng his intended victim with heaps of curses.

But when f.a.n.n.y dared to come to see her husband, she was under no such friendly protection. In vain Levin begged that she might be spared, and threatened to tell his master. The overseer knew that Mr. Gist did not favor her visits, and as he seldom had an opportunity to exercise his disciplinary talents, now-- "Gist was so devilish careful of his n.i.g.g.e.rs"--he could ill afford to lose such opportunities for sport.

Soon after his marriage, Levin's health failed, and he became unable to continue his labors in the field. He could, however, do light work, and his mistress took him into the house.

His master now renewed his efforts to persuade him to refrain from visiting his wife, but all in vain. His love for f.a.n.n.y was warm and true, and no argument could move him.

Mr. Gist's patience at length gave way. His anger rose. He would not thus be baffled by a servant--he would force him to obey his wishes! He accordingly bound the astonished slave, and whipped him severely. Three hundred and seventeen lashes fell upon his naked back.

A little later, and the master's pa.s.sion had subsided. He was astonished at himself. Remorse and bitter sorrow filled his heart; and with his own brave frankness he confessed--even to the victim of his wrath-- that he had done a grievous wrong. "I have acted hastily," said he, "while in a pa.s.sion, and I am very sorry."

After this no force was used to prevent the intercourse of the true-hearted pair, but they were permitted peaceably to enjoy their transient visits to each other.

CHAPTER X.

VINA'S EARLY HISTORY.

IN Edgecombe county, N. C., about seven miles from Tarboro', lived a respectable planter, named William Foxall. He was handsome in person, and in manners most agreeable; a kind master, and a true-hearted friend.

At the time of which we speak--1817--he was a widower with two children. The eldest, a lovely and accomplished young lady, named Mary Ann, the fruit of his first marriage, resided with her father; but the little boy, a final parting gift from his last wife, was adopted by her grandmother immediately after her daughter's death.

Mr. Foxall was not a wealthy man; indeed he had never been ambitious to acc.u.mulate great riches. He had chosen rather to live in the enjoyment of the competency bequeathed him by his ancestors, and to leave it, together with an untarnished name, as an inheritance to his children.

But the quiet he had chosen was destined to be interrupted by the entreaties of an old schoolmate, who had resided for a few years in Lawrence county, Alabama.

This gentleman, whose name was Allen, wrote frequently to Mr.

Foxall, and always begged him to sell what he termed his meagre old plantation, and to come to the Tennessee Valley. "Here," said he, "you will find a country beautiful by nature, and rich as beautiful. The soil seems eager to yield its increase, and wealth waits but the planter's bidding. Come to this charming valley, where, with the forces now at our command, a few years' crops will make you independent, and insure wealth to your children after you are gone."

The alluring prospect tempted even the unambitious Foxall; and he sold his old plantation, endeared as it was to him by a thousand tender a.s.sociations. His servants, old and young, he resolved to take with him.

Among these, there was one woman named Sally, who, with her three children, properly belonged to his daughter; she having been given to the first Mrs. Foxall on her marriage.

Sally was an excellent servant, and devotedly attached to her young mistress. She had waited on her departed mother when she too was a blooming maiden, and had arrayed her in her bridal robes. All her cares and sorrows she had shared; and when their beloved mistress was pa.s.sing away, she it was that smoothed the dying pillow, and folded the meek hands to their long repose.

Then the deep love of her nature was transferred to the sweet infant left wholly to her care; and though when her own children were born, a new fount of tenderness was opened in her heart, it was scarce deeper than that which had welled forth for the motherless babe she had cherished.

Her own poor children, alas! were now fatherless-- though death had spared the husband of her love.

His name was Silas; and his owner, a Mr. Sisson, lived a few miles from Mr. Foxall's plantation. Silas was a carpenter, a fine energetic fellow, and was highly esteemed by his owner. He was also full of affection for his wife and babes; and was unhappy only when by some arrangement beyond his control, he was prevented from enjoying their society at the stated season.

When the youngest of his three children was but an infant, a branch of the Sisson family removed to Alabama, and as they would be obliged on arriving there to build themselves a house, they took Silas with them.

Sad was his heart when he came to say "Good bye" to Sally and her little ones, but he was hopeful. He was not sold; and when the new house should be built in that strange wild place where they were going, he could return. They would not keep him there, away from all he loved--ah, no!

But a year pa.s.sed, and no permission came for Silas to return to the old place. He had been patient, but his endurance could not last forever; and one night, when all was still about the new house he had built, he rose up quietly, and bade a silent farewell to the kind friends that seemed so unwilling to let him go.

He was not long in returning to his old home, and there he spent one more happy year. His little children learned to watch for his coming, and Sally's eyes regained their wonted brilliancy.

Ah! when he had ceased to fear, then was his danger nearest. The man from whom he had fled came again, and carried him away in heavy chains.

Where he was conveyed, his wife knew not. Only once more she saw his face. After she had for months deplored his sad fate, he came to see her. Three days his "pa.s.s" allowed him to remain with her. How swiftly did they pa.s.s?

He had been working at his trade, he said, but they were about to send him to the Potomac river, to be employed upon a boat; and when he could come again, he did not know.

Never more did Sally's eye rest upon the form of her husband; never more did his pleasant voice delight her ear. Year after year she watched for his coming her heart grew sick with waiting, and she knew that she must give him up.

At last, the news that the Foxall family was about to remove to Alabama, reached his ears, and though he could not visit his dear ones, he found an opportunity to send them some little presents, as farewell tokens of his love.

The grandparents of Miss Foxall insisted that if her father went to Alabama, she should remain with them. That rude new country would be no place for her, dest.i.tute as she was of a mother's care; and though Mr. Foxall longed for her cheering presence, he felt that they were right; and with a father's blessing, he left his daughter to their guardians.h.i.+p.

Sally, too, and her children, should have remained, but he needed all his forces to make his first crop; and as he promised to send them back when he should be able to dispense with their services, his daughter and her friends consented to his taking them.

Sally's oldest child was named Jerry. He was a fine healthy boy, nine years old. Lavinia, or Vina, as she was usually called, was seven, and Quall, the youngest, a bright merry boy, was nearly five. These were the light of her eyes; and though she grieved at the thought of parting with her young mistress, and wondered who would now perform for her all the little services that had never yet been entrusted to less careful hands than hers, yet she felt that, so long as she could keep all her own children with her, she should not repine.

Dr. Allen, the friend who had urged Mr. Foxall's emigration, was settled near Courtland, Lawrence county. Here he had a fine plantation, and his friend bought one adjoining. Then with the idea that they could thus work their hands to better advantage, they entered into partners.h.i.+p, working all the land together, and sharing equally the profits.

Year after year pa.s.sed in his new home; yet the bright visions of wealth that had enticed Mr. Foxall thitherward, vanished into thin air.

Not that his friend had exaggerated the fertility of the soil, or any other of the peculiar natural advantages of the beautiful valley in which he had settled. No; the rich bottom lands near the river teemed with vegetation, and the broad plains for miles back brought forth abundant crops. Nature's work was all perfect; and the laborers performed their duty well.

Cotton was "made" and sold; and corn, in quant.i.ties that astonished the Carolinians, who had all their lives been accustomed to tilling a less prolific soil.

Yet, notwithstanding all this apparent prosperity, the coffers of the planters were not full; and as years pa.s.sed on, though crops were regularly gathered in and sold, great debts acc.u.mulated, and ruin stared them in the face.

Ah, William Foxall! could you hope to grow rich, when your fortune was linked with that of a drunkard and a gambler?

With the cowardice characteristic of the votaries of dissipation, Dr. Allen, when he saw that a crash was inevitable, privately quitted the country, leaving his partner to endure alone the consequences of his own criminal self-indulgence, and to arrange the business as he could.

Poor Mr. Foxall was overcome with grief and humiliation. The debts had been contracted by his partner, but as his share of their wasted property was insufficient to pay one-third of them, he was obliged to turn out all his own. Even the trusting servants, more his friends than slaves, that he had brought with him from the dear old home, must go to satisfy the gambler's creditors.

Oh! what a wave of sorrow rushed over the spirits of those doomed slaves, when they learned their destiny! Even Sally and her children, who should have been sent back to their young mistress, to whom of right they still belonged, they, too, were given up.