CHAPTER V. THE BLACK STOLE.
The foregoing sketch exhibits a personal trait in Mr. Slick's character,the present a national one. In the interview, whether real or fanciful,that he alleges to have had with one of the Secretaries of State, he wasnot disposed to give a direct reply, because his habitual caution ledhim to suspect that an attempt was made to draw him out on a particulartopic without his being made aware of the object. On the presentoccasion, he exhibits that irritability, which is so common among allhis countrymen, at the absurd accounts that travellers give of theUnited States in general, and the gross exaggerations they publish ofthe state of slavery in particular.
That there is a party in this country, whose morbid sensibility ispandered to on the subject of negro emancipation there can be no doubt,as is proved by the experiment made by Mr. Slick, recorded in thischapter.
On this subject every man has a right to his own opinions, but anyinterference with the municipal regulations of another country, is soutterly unjustifiable, that it cannot be wondered at that the Americansresent the conduct of the European abolishionists, in the mostunqualified and violent manner.
The conversation that I am now about to repeat, took place on theThames. Our visits, hitherto, had been restricted by the rain to London.To-day, the weather being fine, we took passage on board of a steamer,and went to Greenwich.
While we were walking up and down the deck, Mr. Slick again adverted tothe story of the government spies with great warmth. I endeavoured, butin vain, to persuade him that no regular organized system of espionageexisted in England. He had obtained a garbled account of one or twooccurrences, and his prejudice, (which, notwithstanding his disavowal,I knew to be so strong, as to warp all his opinions of England and theEnglish), immediately built up a system, which nothing I could say,could at all shake.
I assured him the instances he had mentioned were isolated andunauthorized acts, told in a very distorted manner but mitigated, asthey really were, when truly related, they were at the time receivedwith the unanimous disapprobation of every right-thinking man in thekingdom, and that the odium which had fallen on the relators, was soimmeasurably greater than what had been bestowed on the thoughtlessprincipals, that there was no danger of such things again occurring inour day. But he was immovable.
"Oh, of course, it isn't true," he said, "and every Englishman willswear it's a falsehood. But you must not expect us to disbelieve it,nevertheless; for your travellers who come to America, pick up here andthere, some absurd ontruth or another; or, if they are all picked upalready, invent one; and although every man, woman, and child is readyto take their bible oaths it is a bam, yet the English believe this onefalse witness in preference to the whole nation.
"You must excuse me, Squire; you have a right to your opinion, thoughit seems you have no right to blart it out always; but I am a freeman,I was raised in Slickville, Onion County, State of Connecticut, UnitedStates of America, which _is_ a free country, and no mistake; and I havea right to my opinion, and a right to speak it, too; and let me see theman, airl or commoner, parliamenterer or sodger officer, that dare toreport me, I guess he'd wish he'd been born a week later, that's all.I'd make a caution of him, _I_ know. I'd polish his dial-plate fust, andthen I'd feel his short ribs, so as to make him larf, a leetle jist aleetle the loudest he ever heerd. Lord, he'd think thunder and lightnin'a mint julip to it. I'd ring him in the nose as they do pigs in mycountry, to prevent them rootin' up what they hadn't ought."
Having excited himself by his own story, he first imagined a case andthen resented it, as if it had occurred. I expressed to him my greatregret that he should visit England with these feelings and prejudices,as I had hoped his conversation would have been as rational and asamusing as it was in Nova Scotia, and concluded by saying that I feltassured he would find that no such prejudice existed here against hiscountrymen, as he entertained towards the English.
"Lord love you!" said he, "I have no prejudice. I am the most candid manyou ever see. I have got some grit, but I ain't ugly, I ain't indeed."
"But you are wrong about the English; and I'll prove it to you. Do yousee that turkey there?" said he.
"Where?" I asked. "I see no turkey; indeed, I have seen none on board.What do you mean?"
"Why that slight, pale-faced, student-like Britisher; he is a turkey,that feller. He has been all over the Union, and he is a goin' to writea book. He was at New York when we left, and was introduced to me in thestreet. To make it liquorish, he has got all the advertisements aboutrunaway slaves, sales of niggers, cruel mistresses and licentiousmasters, that he could pick up. He is a caterer and panderer to Englishhypocrisy. There is nothin' too gross for him to swaller. We call themturkeys; first because they travel so fast--for no bird travels hot footthat way, except it be an ostrich--and second, because they gobbleup every thing that comes in their way. Them fellers will swaller afalsehood as fast as a turkey does a grasshopper; take it right downwhole, without winkin'.
"Now, as we have nothin' above particular to do, 'I'll cram him' foryou; I will show you how hungry he'll bite at a tale of horror, let itbe never so onlikely; how readily he will believe it, because it is aginus; and then, when his book comes out, you shall see that all Englandwill credit it, though I swear I invented it as a cram, and you swearyou heard it told as a joke. They've drank in so much that is strong,in this way, have the English, they require somethin' sharp enough totickle their palates now. Wine hante no taste for a man that drinksgrog, that's a fact. It's as weak as Taunton water. Come and walk up anddown deck along with me once or twice, and then we will sit down by him,promiscuously like; and as soon as I get his appetite sharp, see how Iwill cram him."
"This steam-boat is very onsteady to-day. Sir," said Mr. Slick; "it'snot overly convenient walking, is it?"
The ice was broken. Mr. Slick led him on by degrees to his travels,commencing with New England, which the traveller eulogised very much.He then complimented him on the accuracy of his remarks and the depthof his reflections, and concluded by expressing a hope that he wouldpublish his observations soon, as few tourists were so well qualifiedfor the task as himself.
Finding these preliminary remarks taken in good part, he commenced theprocess of "cramming."
"But oh, my friend," said he, with a most sanctimonious air, "did youvisit, and I am ashamed as an American citizen to ask the question, Ifeel the blood a tannin' of my cheek when I inquire, did you visit theSouth? That land that is polluted with slavery, that land wherethe boastin' and crackin' of freemen pile up the agony pangs on thecorroding wounds inflicted by the iron chains of the slave, until naturcan't stand it no more; my heart bleeds like a stuck critter, when Ithink of this plague spot on the body politic. I ought not to speakthus; prudence forbids it, national pride forbids it; but genu_wine_feelings is too strong for polite forms. 'Out of the fulness of theheart the mouth speaketh.' Have you been there?"
"Turkey" was thrown off his guard, he opened his wallet, which was wellstocked, and retailed his stories, many of them so very rich, that Idoubted the capacity of the Attache to out-Herod him. Mr. Slick receivedthese tales with evident horror, and complimented the narrator with awell simulated groan; and when he had done, said, "Ah, I see how itis, they have purposely kept dark about the most atrocious features ofslavery. Have you never seen the Gougin' School?"
"No, never."
"What, not seen the Gougin' School?"
"No, Sir; I never heard of it."
"Why, you don't mean to say so?"
"I do, indeed, I assure you."
"Well, if that don't pass! And you never even heerd tell of it, eh?"
"Never, Sir. I have never either seen it or heard of it."
"I thought as much," said Mr. Slick. "I doubt if any Britisher ever didor ever will see it. Well, Sir, in South Carolina, there is a man calledJosiah Wormwood; I am ashamed to say he is a Connecticut man. For aconsiderable of a spell, he was a strollin' preacher, but it didn'tpay in the long run. There is so much competition in that l
ine in ourcountry, that he consaited the business was overdone, and he opened aLyceum to Charleston South Car, for boxin', wrestlin' and other purliteBritish accomplishments; and a most a beautiful sparrer he is, too; Idon't know as I ever see a more scientific gentleman than he is, inthat line. Lately, he has halfed on to it the art of gougin' or'monokolisin,' as he calls it, to sound grand; and if it weren't sodreadful in its consequences, it sartinly is amost allurin' thing, isgougin'. The sleight-of-hand is beautiful. All other sleights we knoware tricks; but this is reality; there is the eye of your adversary inyour hand; there is no mistake. It's the real thing. You feel you havehim; that you have set your mark on him, and that you have took yoursatisfaction. The throb of delight felt by a 'monokolister' is beyondall conception."
"Oh heavens!" said the traveller, "Oh horror of horrors! I never heardany thing so dreadful. Your manner of telling it, too, adds to itsterrors. You appear to view the practice with a proper Christiandisgust; and yet you talk like an amateur. Oh, the thing is sickening."
"It is, indeed," said Mr. Slick, "particularly to him that loses hispeeper. But the dexterity, you know, is another thing. It is veryscientific. He has two niggers, has Squire Wormwood, who teach thewrastlin' and gouge-sparrin'; but practisin' for the eye is done forpunishment of runaways. He has plenty of subjects. All the planterssend their fugit_ive_ niggers there to be practised on for an eye. Thescholars ain't allowed to take more than one eye out of them; if theydo, they have to pay for the nigger; for he is no sort o' good after,for nothin' but to pick oakum. I could go through the form, and give youthe cries to the life, but I won't; it is too horrid; it really is toodreadful."
"Oh do, I beg of you," said the traveller.
"I cannot, indeed; it is too shocking. It will disgust you."
"Oh, not at all," said Turkey, "when I know it is simulated, and notreal, it is another thing."
"I cannot, indeed," said Mr. Slick. "It would shock your philanthropicsoul, and set your very teeth of humanity on edge. But have you everseen--the Black Stole?"
"No."
"Never seen the Black Stole?"
"No, never."
"Why, it ain't possible? Did you never hear of it nother?"
"No, never. Well now, do tell!"
"So you never heerd tell of it, nor never sot eyes on it?"
"Certainly never."
"Well, that bangs the bush, now! I suppose you didn't. Guess you neverdid, and never will, nor no other traveller, nother, that ever sleptin shoe-leather. They keep dark about these atrocities. Well, the BlackStole is a loose kind of shirt-coat, like an English carter's frock;only, it is of a different colour. It is black instead of white, andmade of nigger hide, beautifully tanned, and dressed as soft as a glove.It ain't every nigger's hide that's fit for a stole. If they are tooyoung, it is too much like kid; if they are too old, it's like soleleather, it's so tough; and if they have been whipt, as all on 'em havea'most, why the back is all cut to pieces, and the hide ruined. Ittakes several sound nigger skins to make a stole; but when made, it's abeautiful article, that's a fact.
"It is used on a plantation for punishment. When the whip don't do itswork, strip a slave, and jist clap on to him the Black Stole. Dresshim up in a dead man's skin, and it frightens him near about to death.You'll hear him screetch for a mile a'most, so 'tarnally skeered. Andthe best of the fun is, that all the rest of the herd, bulls, cows, andcalves, run away from him, jist as if he was a panther."
"Fun, Sir! Do you call this fun?"
"Why sartainly I do. Ain't it better nor whippin' to death? "What'sa Stole arter all? It's nothin' but a coat. Philosophizin' on it,Stranger, there is nothin' to shock a man. The dead don't feel.Skinnin', then, ain't cruel, nor is it immoral. To bury a good hide, is,waste--waste is wicked. There are more good hides buried in theStates, black and white, every year, than would pay the poor-rates andstate-taxes. They make excellent huntin'-coats, and would make beautifulrazor-straps, bindin' for books, and such like things; it would make anoble export. Tannin' in hemlock bark cures the horrid nigger flavour.But then, we hante arrived at that state of philosophy; and when it isconfined to one class of the human family, it would be dangerous.The skin of a crippled slave might be worth more than the critter washimself; and I make no doubt, we should soon hear of a stray niggerbeing shot for his hide, as you do of a moose for his skin, and a bearfor his fur.
"Indeed, that is the reason (though I shouldn't mention it as anAttache), that our government won't now concur to suppress the slavetrade. They say the prisoners will all be murdered, and their peelssold; and that vessels, instead of taking, in at Africa a cargo ofhumans, will take in a cargo of hides, as they do to South America. As aChristian, a philanthropist, indeed, as a man, this is a horrid subjectto contemplate, ain't it?"
"Indeed it is," said Turkey. "I feel a little overcome--my head swims--Iam oppressed with nausea--I must go below."
"How the goney swallered it all, didn't he?" said Mr. Slick, with greatglee. "Hante he a most a beautiful twist that feller? How he gobbled itdown, tank, shank and flank at a gulp, didn't he. Oh! he is a Turkeyand no mistake, that chap. But see here, Squire; jist look through theskylight. See the goney, how his pencil is a leggin' it off, for dearlife. Oh, there is great fun in crammin' those fellers.
"Now tell me candid, Squire; do you think there is no prejudice in theBritishers agin us and our free and enlightened country, when they canswaller such stuff as the Gougin' School and _Black Stole_?"
The Attaché; or, Sam Slick in England — Complete Page 20