[figure description] Page 027.[end figure description]

Mr. Wardloe, as was frequently the case, stayed
all night at Evergreen. He was a gentleman of
large property, and yet, like many such, was often
in want of ready money; but which, when in hand,
was soon used in generous entertainments and benevolent
bestowments. Passionate and easily offended,
he still rarely executed a threat, and readily retracted
his own errors, and forgave where others showed
the least sign of regret and sorrow. He admitted
all the actual, and many possible abuses of slavery;
and yet, living where slaves were comfortable and
happy, he believed abuses were generally less than
were represented, and that all such might, and perhaps
would, in time, be corrected; hence his indignation
against northern editors and authors, who portrayed
slavery as an unmitigated evil, and not to be
mitigated, and slave-holders all as dealers in souls

[figure description] Page 028.[end figure description]

and bodies for gain, ever flourishing the lash and
clanking the chain, was absolutely fierce. Prior to
the great insurrection fomented by bad white men,
he had advocated the most lenient measures; but
having barely escaped massacre with his neighbors,
he had, for awhile, sought to prevent the recurrence
of such a danger by greater strictness, if not severity.

His negroes had ever been not only well treated,
but much indulged, and he felt their conduct as an ingratitude:
yet soon his good sense and own instinctive
love and desire of liberty, made him see that the
blacks had conspired not from want of gratitude
but love of freedom. He never could forgive the
diabolical villainy of hired agents; yet before long,
he treated his negroes with his former kindness, preferring
as he often said, to trust to love rather than
fear, and to die a victim to principle and not an
object of hate and vengeance.

He loved Edward Leamington as a son, spite of
the behavior of Rev. Mr. Tibbets, and his dislike of
Northern ministers generally: not being aware that
Edward was slowly, yet surely, although not designedly,
forming the uncle as a prominent advocate for
a great scheme of good to the negroes—a scheme
regarded now with suspicion and ill-will in the South.

“Edward,” remarked Mr. W., at the breakfast

[figure description] Page 029.[end figure description]

table, next morning, “you stayed so long this time, I
feared the Philanthropists had kidnapped you.”

“Oh! no! on the contrary, they were willing to
send me back as an agent, since I had converted
Mary.”

“Converted! the Good Lord deliver us from their
sort of converts:—snivelling hypocrites! However,
if passed through your hands, Edward, I might possibly
trust a negro to their care.

“My converts, dear uncle, might still want a
higher power to keep them in the true path on this
perplexing subject. But, uncle, when shall we visit
my most excellent Mrs. Freeman?”

“Did you not receive my last letter?” interrupted
the uncle.

“Why, what did it contain?” asked the Parson
anxiously.

“She is dead!—I wrote you word.”

“Dead!—the letter never reached us.”

“Yes, she is dead, and a sad loss to us all,” continued
Mr. W. But what will add to your distress,
Edward, the executors, according to the will, must,
in settling the estate, sell the negroes; and poor
Sarah, Frank's mother, is in great distress.

“In distress!—why?”

“Frank must go south-west. He deserves this;
although for poor Sarah's sake, I am truly sorry.”

[figure description] Page 030.[end figure description]

“But, why, uncle, must Frank go? Cannot the
planters buy him as well as the rest?”

“They can; but they will not.

“Will not!” exclaimed Mr. L., surprised.

“No; they will not, and they ought not: at least
not for Frank's sake.

“Why Frank is pre-eminently intelligent, active,
trustworthy.”

“All true enough, Edward. But the planters are
afraid of him.”

“Afraid of Frank Freeman! Why they might as
well be afraid of me.”

“They would, Edward, if you were a negro, and
had been concerned in the insurrection, and that
while a mere boy—”

“Frank never was concerned in that, uncle.”

“Mr. Leamington, we have better means of information
than you.”

“Forgive me, dear uncle. I have no information
here. I only express my conviction that Frank Freeman
could not be engaged in such a nefarious
scheme.”

“At all events, Edward, we do know that Frank
gave at least a hint to that infernal Tibbets to be
off.

“Admitting that, dear uncle, and that Frank
might have wished, may yet wish for freedom, because
such wish is in all invincible, natural—”

[figure description] Page 031.[end figure description]

“Yes, yes, natural! Mr. Edward Leamington;
but we do not like being murdered in our beds from
Frank Freeman's `natural and invincible love of
liberty.”'

“Dear uncle,” said Mr. L., soothingly, “I know
that anything is possible; but it is, to me, so wholly
improbable that Frank could stain his hands with
the blood of murder, that I will never believe it till
it is proved; and I never will believe any proot
could exist. And all this makes me ever watching
and with prayer to find ways and means for fixing
a time when the prospect of an honorable freedom
may be before our slaves' eyes.”

“Edward—I am too hasty; but yet you are too
enthusiastic. Why should slavery be an evil if
all negroes could be as happy as all are in this
parish? I am not convinced that slavery is wrong
per se: it is the abuses we should reform.”

“I fear the system, dear uncle, creates the abuses
and is inseparable from them. Innate desires are
not planted in vain: the desire meets its correspondent
here, as the senses themselves.”

“Well! well! it may be so in metaphysics; but
all that is mere trickery. At all events this sort of
argument will never induce us to buy off Frank.”

“Uncle, I do not ask you to go logically here;
only follow your heart.”

“Pshaw! Edward, you know my weak point.”

[figure description] Page 032.[end figure description]

“Rather your noblest.”

“No! I won't be flattered now, Edward. Frank
must go. I have promised, and they made me give
it in writing, that I will not buy him—do not urge
me, Edward.” Saying which, Mr. Wardloe fearing
lest after all Mr. L. would now out-general him,
arose, and making some excuse left the room.

Mr. L. after a few moments withdrew to his study
to make preparation for the approaching Sabbath.
All attempt at writing was, however, vain. His
mind was in too great tumult. The sudden death
of Mrs. Freeman, a widow lady most exemplary, in
the prime of life, and in the midst of usefulness, almost
confounded him! She had no children; but
the heirs could not come into possession of their
inheritance till the property and estate were sold;
and this rendered necessary a sale of all the negroes,
including Frank and his mother. And this was sad
indeed! for into what slavery would he go, who
had been only a slave in name—trusted almost as
Abraham has trusted his steward! and what would
that poor mother do—sick and helpless—when her
son, her only son, her only child, her comfort, her
glory, should be torn away and delivered over,
where all report proclaimed that tender mercies
were cruelty!

Mrs. Freeman had, just before Mr. L.'s departure
the last summer, intimated a wish to have a

[figure description] Page 033.[end figure description]

conference with him on his return, saying, it referred to
her will, and that she would communicate an important
secret! She had gone, and that secret was
buried with her—although Mr. L. had no doubt it
referred to Frank, and that it had been her intention
possibly to give him his freedom!

And now came rushing like a tempest all the perplexing
questions and doubts clustering around the
southern institutions—the natural rights of man—
and his own duty. His mind was logical, his reasonings
acute, his distinctions nice, and, above all,
his conscience tender! The more he thought and
reasoned, the darker was the night of doubt and
scruple, till his very brain seemed verging to madness!
He trembled at the horrors that seemed inevitable
if the negroes were enlightened; and yet
he trembled more at thought of shutting from them
the Light of Life!

Christian negroes he was well assured, while hope
and prospect of national and successful revolution
were wanting, would abhor all conspiracies and
massacres, and “serve as unto God;” but should
the mass be enlightened and not Christianized, he
saw, from the past, how these might be wrought upon
and mis-directed by the selfish politician—the scheming
agrarian—the fanatical—the pseudo-philanthropic—
not to struggle as a nation simply for Right,
but to murder at every opportunity, for Revenge!

[figure description] Page 034.[end figure description]

And now came fresh to memory that adventure in
the boat, and that awful answer of the negro chief!
and his night alarm from the watchers!

But, perhaps, the reader would know more
particularly to what we allude.

Not very long after Mr. L. assumed his pastoral
charge in the South, he was compelled to leave
Maroon Island early one Sabbath morning. A small
boat was manned for his use, with four negro oarsmen
and a driver—an African. This was the year after
the great insurrection, when more than sixty black
men perished at the gallows. Gloom and discontent
were visible enough in the party, at being deprived
of the rest and holiday; and our Parson, then a
comparative stranger, with no very agreeable feelings
took his seat among his dark looking associates.
Little was spoken; and the negroes lazily and
sullenly worked their oars, till the tide at its ebb
came rushing through the reeds and tall grass along
the narrow inlets to the ocean, when, on coming to a
stake in the mud, crowned with a death-head in
shape of a horse-skull, the boat was turned inward to
the land. Alas! this proved to be a cut neither
short nor easy, and above all, wrong! And suddenly
the boat grounded, while the water went wholly to
the great mass-meeting outside—the Parson and his
congregation left in their Bethel reposing on the
mud!

[figure description] Page 035.[end figure description]

“I must preach to these poor fellows,” thought
Mr. L. Accordingly, seated with his “beloved”
four in front, and one behind, he delivered in
substance the following: — the first and the last
sermon by him held forth on blue-black mud, full
twenty cubits from bottom!

“I am sorry, my kind boys, accident made it
necessary for you to row me to Salt Marsh to-day;
for I know how you all value Sunday, and I am told
you love to go to meeting. But, my kind friends—
yes, friends,—(because the blacks and I are always
friends when we get well acquainted,) we can talk a
little here about religion as well as in church. (Ears
erect and eyes right.) I'm a minister, as maybe you
know? (Affirmative looks.) Well, my friends, we
differ in some things; but, blessed be God, we can
all be one—can't we? Yes; we can all be Christians
and have one Lord, one faith, one baptism. Our
Lord Jesus Christ is the Saviour of the black men
as well as of the white: he died for you as well as
for me: he loves your immortal souls as he does
mine.

“In Jesus Christ we can all be Free! Oh!
blessed thought, my friends!—Yes, Free! Free from
Hell! free from fear of Death! free from the power
and the love of our sins! And then we all shall
have one Home! Ah! that Home is so happy, so
glorious, so enduring! My friends! there is no hard

[figure description] Page 036.[end figure description]

labor, no toil, no weariness in Heaven! There are
no Slaves there! We shall live there with new
hearts, and all be Brothers—all loving, kind—just
like God's holy angels! Then it would be a sad
thing to lose our souls—would it not? (Yes! kind
Massa!) I beseech you, then, repent of all your
sins, and take Jesus Christ for your Saviour—shall we
not all go to heaven together?”

“Yes! kind massa! God bless you, kind massa!”
responded the congregation. But the driver, a
grand-looking negro, added with emotion:

“Massa! we didn't want to tote you to-day. 'Tis
our holiday, and we wanted to go to meetin'—we
belong to the Baptist meeting—but now, bless God,
we are glad we come!”

Established thus in that strong citadel, the Black
Man's Heart, our parson thought it a fine opportunity
to say something that might prevent his congregation
from any participation in what he deemed
criminal conspiracies; and so with tearful eyes and
unsteady voice, he resumed:

“Thank you, my kind boys! Now let me say,
don't let bad white people from the North deceive
you. (Faces clouding.) Oh! do not let them excite
you to rebellion! (Faces black.) Do not let
these persuade you that the people up there will
help you. No! no! the people there will help the
whites here and not the blacks; and if they come

[figure description] Page 037.[end figure description]

down to help, they are enough to eat you all, and
not leave a mouthful apiece!”

During this, the congregation hung their heads
and with averted faces; but now up rose that grand-looking
driver, and folding his arms across his
breast, oh! with what lofty manner and sublime
look, he emphatically uttered the deep heart of all:

“Master! Liberty's Liberty!”

Leamington was awed and silenced; and that
look and that answer were riveted on his soul! But
he secretly execrated the accursed villainy that had,
taking advantage of such sentiment and such hearts,
goaded the blacks to murder many a true friend
sleeping; and secure because sleeping among negroes
treated well, and more like children than
slaves! And from that hour, Leamington's ears
ever rung with that negro war-cry, while he dreaded
the damnable intrigues of some northern agitators;
and all the more, because they affected to have the
sanction of Christ!

On reaching his destination he was, for the first
time, carried to land on the ebony sedan lately described.
That night he was to pass with a gentleman
and lady, whose house, two miles from any
other, was in the midst of one hundred negroes,
several of whom had been implicated in the plot.
On retiring for the night our hero occupied a room
on the ground-floor, its doors and windows opening

[figure description] Page 038.[end figure description]

into a verandah; yet, peaceman as he was, he noticed
with some satisfaction two guns, and both with
double barrels, so that with the aid of a good conscience
also, he went to bed, and was quickly in a
sound sleep.

But hark! at the noon of night a rustle at the
door!—then a supressed whispering—and then
stealthy steps! Up sits the parson! What does he
see, though? Nothing—the room is pitchy darkness.
But softly leaving the bed, and creeping to the
corner, he seizes a double-barrel, and magnanimously
resolves to sell life, and not die like a chicken;
waiting the bursting open of the door to deliver his
fire. All, however, is now quiet, and soon is heard
a sleep-betraying kind of breathing, which before
many minutes wakes into a very decided snore!
Well—if others can sleep outside why should not
our hero sleep within? He went to bed and sunk
at last into a second slumber.

He dreamed, however, of noises and whisperings
and light steppings, and at last was sitting up in bed
again; and sure enough there all were as before!
But, before he could interpret the signs, came again
the sleep-denoting breath, followed immediately by
the most audible snore! “Oh!” reasoned Mr. L.,
“they don't intend to murder me, or why so long
about it? It is nothing wrong,” and down he lay,
when, strange enough, off he went into a comfortable

[figure description] Page 039.[end figure description]

snooze, from which he awoke not till long after daybreak.

“Friends,” remarked he at breakfast that morning,
“I was greatly frightened last night.”

“Frightened! indeed! why how?”

He narrated the incidents of the night; on which
both gentleman and lady simultaneously answered,

“Ha! ha! ha! he! he! he!”

Mr. L. Looked surprised and confused; nor could
he join in the laugh, when his host exclaimed,

“It was only the night guard! ha! ha! they
change every hour, he! he!”

“Night guard! do you have a guard? Why, who
are they?

“The drivers, and the most trusty negroes!

Good nature and politeness helped our Parson to
laugh with his friends; and there was also something
so intrinsically and mournfully funny in sleeping
with one's throat bare, surrounded by “most trusty
negroes,” a few months after sixty of their race hung
on one gallows for planning a massacre over all the
islands!

These, and many other matters, were now recurring
to Mr. L., when his wife hastily entering his
study, said—

“Oh! Edward! poor Frank is here; and he begs
most earnestly to see you.”

[figure description] Page 040.[end figure description]

“Mary, what shall I do? what can I do? I will
come down—no—let Frank come up.”

Accordingly, in a moment or two, Frank Freeman
stood in the Parson's study. And never, saving
the Parson himself, had stood there a human form
superior or equal; its symmetry faultless, and the
figure commanding and uniting strength, agility and
grace. The countenance, spite of its complexion, a
jet black, was noble in expression, yet pleasing and
inspired confidence. Nor was the inner man any
contrast to the outer; the soul was a jewel and in a
fit casket. Frank was ardent and impulsive; and
being of a confiding and unsuspicious temper he
could be led into error by those he trusted. His
talents were of a high order; hence, and because of
his very favorable opportunities, Frank, and not
merely in contrast with negroes around, was a good
English scholar; that is, he could read well, pronounce
well, write a very legible hand, and cypher
well in the ordinary and simple rules. Besides,
being always employed as a steward and overseer,
and meeting and doing business with gentlemen of
fine education, his style of conversation was good: in
fact, saving his color, he was on a par with the whites
generally, and spite of certain philosophers and ethnologists
Frank—Negro Frank—was better in all respects
than some white men.

[figure description] Blank Page.[end figure description]

“Buy me! oh! buy me, Master Leamington.” p.41. [figure description] Illustration Page. Image of a well-dressed African-American man kneeling and looking up at a standing white man. He holds the white man's hands in his own and looks up into the man's face.[end figure description]

[figure description] Page 041.[end figure description]

The Parson taking Frank by the hand said,

“Well, Frank, what's the matter?”

“Ah! Master Leamington what shall I do? Must
I leave my dear old mistress' home?—must I leave
my mother?—must I go where slavery has its horrors?”

“I can hardly realize such a supposition, Frank;
surely some way of deliverance must be found,” replied
Mr. L., rather expressing his wishes, however,
than his belief.

“There is but one hope, master.”

“God be praised, Frank! is there one hope?”

“But one, Master Leamington—and that in you.”

“In me! Frank!

In you, dear master; but I fear to name it. Oh!
pity me! Our despair makes me bold. But if you
cannot save me—there is no other hope.”

“How can I save you, Frank!

“Buy me! oh! buy me, Master Leamington!”

“Frank, I cannot!—I dare not!—I have solemnly
vowed to God never to buy or sell a human being!”

“Then, indeed, there is no hope! no hope!—She
will die! Oh! master, for God's sake redeem me!
Here on my knees, I ask this, even more earnestly
than I could ask for life—Oh! save us.”

“Frank! Frank! a vow registered in Heaven
cannot be broken.”

[figure description] Page 042.[end figure description]

“Then, master, let me die here! In mercy kill
me.”

“Frank, this is God's will! we must submit.”

“I cannot! I cannot! Oh! master I cannot listen
now. My soul is crushed! Oh! redeem me;
the God of Mercies cannot be angry with you. Buy
me! oh! buy me! voluntarily and joyously will I be
your slave for ever. I cannot be denied. Deny me,
and I must die!”

Leamington could not answer; and he dared not
turn away. But there knelt the negro! the anguish
of a despairing soul in his looks, and his powerful
frame quivering with emotion, and near him stood
the white man holding in his own the clasped hands
of the supplicant, while from his downward bent face
tears were falling on the black's, who went on—

“May the God of the oppressed bless you for your
pity, dear Master Leamington. And that God never
can wish you not to redeem a man to save his
mother's life! No! master! you could not have
vowed had you seen all. Oh! for Christ's sake,
master, save me.”

“Frank, I will see you again. Let me have time
to think—to pray. Give me time, my poor boy.”

“Only save me, kind master, and I will serve you
for ever.” And with that the negro left the room.

p562-054

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