Busying about the breakfast for herself and other servants about the house–the white members of the family all being absent–Mammy Judy for a time lost sight of the expected arrival. Soon however, a hasty footstep arrested her attention, when on looking around it proved to be Henry who came smiling up the yard.
“How’d you do, mammy! How’s Mag’ and the boy?” inquired he, grasping the old woman by the hand.
She burst into a flood of tears, throwing herself upon him.
“What is the matter!” exclaimed Henry. “Is Maggie dead?”
“No chile,” with increased sobs she replied, “much betteh she wah.”
“My God! Has she disgraced herself?”
“No chile, may be betteh she dun so, den she bin heah now an’ not sole. Maus Stephen sell eh case she!–I dun’o, reckon dat’s da reason.”
“What!–Do you tell me, mammy, she had better disgraced herself than been sold! By the——!”
“So, Henry! yeh ain’t gwine swah! hope yeh ain’ gwine lose yeh ’ligion? Do’n do so; put yeh trus’ in de Laud, he is suffishen fah all!”
“Don’t tell me about religion! What’s religion to me? My wife is sold away from me by a man who is one of the leading members of the very church to which both she and I belong! Put my trust in the Lord! I have done so all my life nearly, and of what use is it to me? My wife is sold from me just the same as if I didn’t. I’ll——”
“Come, come, Henry, yeh mus’n talk so; we is po’ weak an’ bline cretehs, an’ cah see de way uh da Laud. He move’ in a mystus way, his wundahs to puhfaum.”
“So he may, and what is all that to me? I don’t gain anything by it, and——”
“Stop, Henry, stop! Ain’ de Laud bless yo’ soul? Ain’ he take yeh foot out de miah an’ clay, an’ gib yeh hope da uddah side dis vale ub teahs?”
“I’m tired looking the other side; I want a hope this side of the vale of tears. I want something on this earth as well as a promise of things in another world. I and my wife have been both robbed of our liberty, and you want me to be satisfied with a hope of heaven. I won’t do any such thing; I have waited long enough on heavenly promises; I’ll wait no longer. I——”
“Henry, wat de mauttah wid yeh? I neveh heah yeh talk so fo’–yeh sin in de sight ub God; yeh gone clean back, I reckon. De good Book tell us, a tousan’ yeahs wid man, am but a day wid de Laud. Boy, yeh got wait de Laud own pinted time.”
“Well, mammy, it is useless for me to stand here and have the same gospel preached into my ears by you, that I have all my life time heard from my enslavers. My mind is made up, my course is laid out, and if life last, I’ll carry it out. I’ll go out to the place today, and let them know that I have returned.”
“Sho boy! What yeh gwine do, bun house down? Bettah put yeh trus’ in de Laud!” concluded the old woman.
“You have too much religion, mammy, for me to tell you what I intend doing,” said Henry in conclusion.
After taking up his little son, impressing on his lips and cheeks kisses for himself and tears for his mother, the intelligent slave left the abode of the careworn old woman, for that of his master at the cotton place.
Henry was a black–a pure Negro–handsome, manly and intelligent, in size comparing well with his master, but neither so fleshy nor heavy built in person. A man of good literary attainments–unknown to Colonel Franks, though he was aware he could read and write–having been educated in the West Indies, and decoyed away when young. His affection for wife and child was not excelled by Colonel Franks’s for his. He was bold, determined and courageous, but always mild, gentle and courteous, though impulsive when an occasion demanded his opposition.
Going immediately to the place, he presented himself before his master. Much conversation ensued concerning the business which had been entrusted to his charge, all of which was satisfactorily transacted, and full explanations concerning the horses, but not a word was uttered concerning the fate of Maggie, the Colonel barely remarking “your mistress is unwell.”
After conversing till a late hour, Henry was assigned a bed in the great house, but sleep was far from his eyes. He turned and changed upon his bed with restlessness and anxiety, impatiently awaiting a return of the morning.
CHAPTER 7
Master and Slave
Early on Tuesday morning, in obedience to his master’s orders, Henry was on his way to the city to get the house in readiness for the reception of his mistress, Mrs. Franks having improved in three or four days. Mammy Judy had not yet risen when he knocked at the door.
“Hi Henry! yeh heah ready! huccum yeh git up so soon; arter some mischif I reckon? Do’n reckon yeh arter any good!” saluted Mammy Judy.
“No, mammy,” replied he, “no mischief, but like a good slave such as you wish me to be, come to obey my master’s will, just what you like to see.”
“Sho boy! none yeh nonsens’; huccum I want yeh bey maus Stephen? Git dat nonsens’ in yeh head las’ night long so, I reckon! Wat dat yeh gwine do now?”
“I have come to dust and air the mansion for their reception. They have sold my wife away from me, and who else would do her work?” This reply excited the apprehension of Mammy Judy.
“Wat yeh gwine do, Henry? Yeh arter no good; yeh ain’ gwine ’tack maus Stephen, is yeh?”
“What do you mean, mammy, strike him?”
“Yes! Reckon yeh ain’ gwine hit ’im?”
“Curse——!”
“Henry, Henry, membeh wat ye ’fess! Fah de Laud sake, yeh ain’ gwine take to swahin?” interupted the old woman.
“I make no profession, mammy. I once did believe in religion, but now I have no confidence in it. My faith has been wrecked on the stony hearts of such pretended Christians as Stephen Franks, while passing through the stormy sea of trouble and oppression! And—”
“Hay, boy! yeh is gittin high! Yeh call maussa ‘Stephen’?”
“Yes, and I’ll never call him ‘master’ again, except when compelled to do so.”
“Bettah g’long ten’t’ de house fo’ wite folks come, an’ nebeh mine talkin’ ’bout fightin’ ’long wid maus Stephen. Wat yeh gwine do wid white folks? Sho!”
“I don’t intend to fight him, Mammy Judy, but I’ll attack him concerning my wife, if the words be my last! Yes, I’ll—!” and, pressing his lips to suppress the words, the outraged man turned away from the old slave mother with such feelings as only an intelligent slave could realize.
The orders of the morning were barely executed when the carriage came to the door. The bright eyes of the footboy Tony sparkled when he saw Henry approaching the carriage.
“Well, Henry! Ready for us?” enquired his master.
“Yes, sir,” was the simple reply. “Mistress!” he saluted, politely bowing as he took her hand to assist her from the carriage.
“Come, Henry my man, get out the riding horses,” ordered Franks after a little rest.
“Yes, sir.”
A horse for the Colonel and lady each was soon in readiness at the door, but none for himself, it always having been the custom in their morning rides, for the maid and manservant to accompany the mistress and master.
“Ready, did you say?” enquired Franks on seeing but two horses standing at the stile.
“Yes, sir.”
“Where’s the other horse?”
“What for, sir?”
“What for? Yourself, to be sure!”
“Colonel Franks!” said Henry, looking him sternly in the face. “When I last rode that horse in company with you and lady, my wife was at my side, and I will not now go without her! Pardon me–my life for it, I won’t go!”
“Not another word, you black imp!” exclaimed Franks, with an uplifted staff in a rage, “or I’ll strike you down in an instant!”
“Strike away if you will, sir, I don’t care–I won’t go without my wife!”
“You impudent scoundrel! I’ll soon put an end to your conduct! I’ll put you on the auction block, and sell you to the Negro-trader
s.”
“Just as soon as you please sir, the sooner the better, as I don’ want to live with you any longer!”
“Hold your tongue, sir, or I’ll cut it out of your head! You ungrateful black dog! Really, things have come to a pretty pass when I must take impudence off my own Negro! By gracious!–God forgive me for the expression–I’ll sell every Negro I have first! I’ll dispose of him to the hardest Negro-trader I can Find!” said Franks in a rage.
“You may do your mightiest, Colonel Franks. I’m not your slave, nor never was and you know it! And but for my wife and her people, I never would have stayed with you till now. I was decoyed away when young, and then became entangled in such domestic relations as to induce me to remain with you; but now the tie is broken! I know that the odds are against me, but never mind!”
“Do you threaten me, sir! Hold your tongue, or I’ll take your life instantly, you villain!”
“No, sir, I don’ threaten you, Colonel Franks, but I do say that I won’t be treated like a dog. You sold my wife away from me, after always promising that she should be free. And more than that, you sold her because——! And now you talk about whipping me. Shoot me, sell me, or do anything else you please, but don’t lay your hands on me, as I will not suffer you to whip me!”
Running up to his chamber, Colonel Franks seized a revolver, when Mrs. Franks, grasping hold of his arm, exclaimed, “Colonel! what does all this mean?”
“Mean, my dear? It’s rebellion! A plot–this is but the shadow of a cloud that’s fast gathering around us! I see it plainly, I see it!” responded the Colonel, starting for the stairs.
“Stop, Colonel!” admonished his lady. “I hope you’ll not be rash. For Heaven’s sake, do not stain your hands in blood!”
“I do not mean to, my dear! I take this for protection!” Franks hastening down stairs, when Henry had gone into the back part of the premises.
“Dah now! Dah now!” exclaimed Mammy Judy as Henry entered the kitchen. “See wat dis gwine back done foh yeh! Bettah put yo’ trus’ in de Laud! Henry, yeh gone clean back t’ de wuhl ghin, yeh knows it!”
“You’re mistaken, Mammy; I do trust the Lord as much as ever, but I now understand him better than I use to, that’s all. I dont intend to be made a fool of any longer by false preaching.”
“Henry!” interrogated Daddy Joe–who, apprehending difficulties in the case, had managed to get back to the house. “Yeh gwine lose all yo’ ‘ligion? Wat yeh mean, boy!”
“Religion!” replied Henry rebukingly. “That’s always the cry with black people. Tell me nothing about religion when the very man who hands you the bread at communion has sold your daughter away from you!”
“Den yeh ’fen’ God case man ’fen’ yeh! Take cah, Henry, take cah! mine wat yeh ’bout; God is lookin’ at yeh, an’ if yeh no’ willin’ trus’ ’im, yeh need’n call on ’im in time o’ trouble.”
“I dont intend, unless He does more for me then than He has done before. ‘Time of need!’ If ever man needed His assistance, I’m sure I need it now.”
“Yeh do’n know wat yeh need; de Laud knows bes’. On’y trus’ in ’im, an’ ’e bring yeh out mo’ nah conkah. By de help o’ God I’s heah dis day, to gib yeh cumfut!”
“I have trusted in Him, Daddy Joe, all my life, as I told Mammy Judy this morning, but——”
“Ah boy, yeh’s gwine back! Dat on’t do Henry, dat on’t do!”
“Going back from what? My oppressor’s religion! If I could only get rid of his inflictions as easily as I can his religion, I would be this day a free man, when you might then talk to me about ‘trusting.’ ”
“Dis, Henry, am one uh de ways ob de Laud; ’e fus ’flicks us an’ den he bless us.”
“Then it’s a way I don’t like.”
“Mine how yeh talk, boy! ‘God moves in a myst’us way His wundahs to pehfaum,’ an——”
“He moves too slow for me, Daddy Joe; I’m tired waiting so——”
“Come Henry, I hab no sich talk like dat! yeh is gittin’ rale weaked; yeh gwine let de debil take full ’session on yeh! Take cah boy, mine how yeh talk!”
“It is not wickedness, Daddy Joe; you don’t understand these things at all. If a thousand years with us is but a day with God, do you think that I am required to wait all that time?”
“Don’t, Henry, don’t! De wud say ‘stan’ still an’ see de salbation.’ ”
“That’s no talk for me, Daddy Joe; I’ve been ‘standing still’ long enough-I’ll ‘stand still’ no longer.”
“Den yeh no call t’ bey God wud? Take cah boy, take cah!”
“Yes I have, and I intend to obey it, but that part was intended for the Jews, a people long since dead. I’ll obey that intended for me.”
“How yeh gwine bey it?”
“ ‘Now is the accepted time, today is the day of salvation.’ So you see, Daddy Joe, this is very different to standing still.”
“Ah boy, I’s feahd yeh’s losen yeh ’ligion!”
“I tell you once for all, Daddy Joe, that I’m not only ‘losing’ but I have altogether lost my faith in the religion of my oppressors. As they are our religious teachers, my estimate of the thing they give is no greater than it is for those who give it.”
With elbows upon his knees, and face resting in the palms of his hands, Daddy Joe for some time sat with his eyes steadily fixed on the floor, whilst Ailcey who for a part of the time had been an auditor to the conversation, went into the house about her domestic duties.
“Never mind, Henry! I hope it will not always be so with you. You have been kind and faithful to me and the Colonel, and I’ll do anything I can for you!” sympathetically said Mrs. Franks, who, having been a concealed spectator of the interview between Henry and the old people, had just appeared before them.
Wiping away the emblems of grief which stole down his face, with a deep-toned voice upgushing from the recesses of a more than ironpierced soul, he enquired, “Madam, what can you do! Where is my wife?” To this, Mrs. Franks gave a deep sigh. “Never mind, never mind!” continued he, “yes, I will mind, and by——!”
“O! Henry, I hope you’ve not taken to swearing! I do hope you will not give over to wickedness! Our afflictions should only make our faith the stronger.”
“ ‘Wickedness.’ Let the righteous correct the wicked, and the Christian condemn the sinner!”
“That is uncharitable in you, Henry! As you know I have always treated you kindly, and God forbid that I should consider myself any less than a Christian! And I claim as much at least for the Colonel, though like frail mortals he is liable to err at times.”
“Madam!” said he with suppressed emotion–starting back a pace or two–“Do you think there is anything either in or out of hell so wicked, as that which Colonel Franks has done to my wife, and now about to do to me? For myself I care not-my wife!”
“Henry!” said Mrs. Franks, gently placing her hand upon his shoulder. “There is yet a hope left for you, and you will be faithful enough, I know, not to implicate any person. It is this: Mrs. Van Winter, a true friend of your race, is shortly going to Cuba on a visit, and I will arrange with her to purchase you through an agent on the day of your sale, and by that means you can get to Cuba, where probably you may be fortunate enough to get the master of your wife to become your purchaser.”
“Then I have two chances!” replied Henry.
Just then Ailcey, thrusting her head in the door, requested the presence of her mistress in the parlor.
CHAPTER 8
The Sale
“Dah now, dah now!” exclaimed Mammy Judy. “Jis wat ole man been tellin’ on yeh! Yeh go out yandah, yeh kick up yeh heel, git yeh head clean full proclamation an’ sich like dat, an’ let debil fool yeh, den go fool long wid wite folks long so, sho! Bettah go ’bout yeh bisness; been sahvin’ God right, yeh no call t’do so eh reckon!”
“I don’t care what comes! my course is laid out and my determination fixed, and nothing they can do can alter it
. So you and Daddy Joe, mammy, had just as well quit your preaching to me the religion you have got from your oppressors.”
“Soul-driveh git yeh, yeh cah git way fom dem eh doh recken! Sho chile, yeh ain’ dat mighty!” admonished Mammy Judy.
“Henry, my chile, look to de Laud! Look to de Laud! Case ’e ’lone am able t’ bah us up in ouah trouble! An——”
“Go directly sir, to Captain John Harris’ office and ask him to call immediately to see me at my house!” ordered Franks.
Politely bowing, Henry immediately left the premises on his errand.
“Laud a’ messy maus Stephen!” exclaimed Mammy Judy, on hearing the name of John Harris the Negro-trader. “Hope yeh arteh no haum! Gwine sell all on us to de tradehs?”
“Hoot-toot, hoot-toot! Judy, give yourself no uneasiness about that till you have some cause for it. So you and Joe may rest contented, Judy,” admonished Franks.
“Tank’e maus Stephen! Case ah heahn yeh tell Henry dat yeh sell de las’ nig——”
“Hush, ole umin, hush! Yeh tongue too long! Put yeh trus’ in de Laud!” interrupted Daddy Joe.
“I treat my black folks well,” replied Franks, “and all they have to——”
Here the doorbell having been rung, he was interrupted with a message from Ailcey, that a gentleman awaited his presence in the parlor.
At the moment which the Colonel left the kitchen, Henry stepped over the stile into the yard, which at once disclosed who the gentleman was to whom the master had been summoned. Henry passed directly around and behind the house.
“See, ole man, see! Reckon ’e gwine dah now!” whispered Mammy Judy, on seeing Henry pass through the yard without going into the kitchen.
“Whah?” enquired Daddy Joe.
“Dun’o out yandah, whah ’e gwine way from wite folks!” she replied.
The interview between Franks and the trader Harris was not over half an hour duration, the trader retiring, Franks being prompt and decisive in all of his transactions, making little ceremony.
So soon as the front door was closed, Ailcey smiling bore into the kitchen a half-pint glass of brandy, saying that her master had sent it to the old people.
Blake or The Huts of America Page 5
