A FAMILIAR SCENE, IN WHICH PRINGLE BLOWERS HAS BUSINESS.
OF a bright morning, not many days after Pringle Blowers returned
with his fair slave to Charleston (which said slave he would not
sell for gold), there sat on a little bench at the entrance gate of
the "upper workhouse," the brusque figure of a man, whose coarse and
firmly knit frame, to which were added hard and weather-stained
features, indicated his having seen some fifty summers. But, if he
was brusque of figure and coarse of deportment, he had a good soft
heart in the right place; nor did he fail to exercise its virtues
while pursuing the duties of a repulsive profession; albeit, he was
keeper of the establishment, and superintended all punishments.
Leisurely he smoked of a black pipe; and with shirt sleeves rolled
up, a grey felt hat almost covering his dark, flashing eyes, and his
arms easily folded, did he seem contemplating the calm loveliness of
morning. Now he exhaled the curling fume, then scanned away over the
bright landscape to the east, and again cast curious glances up and
down the broad road stretching in front of his prison to the north
and south. It was not long before a carriage and pair appeared on
the hill to the south, advancing at a slow pace towards the city.
The keeper's keen eye rested upon it intently, as it neared, bearing
in a back seat what seemed to be a lady fine of figure and
deportment; while on the front drove a figure of great rotundity,
the broad, full face shining out like a ripe pumpkin in a sun
shower. "It's Pringle Blowers, I do believe in my soul! but it's
seeming strange how he's got a lady to ride with him," mused the
man, who, still watching the approach, had quite forgotten the
escape of the fair slave. The man was not mistaken, for as he
touched his hat, on the carriage arriving opposite the gate, it
halted, and there, sure enough, was our valiant democrat, who,
placing his whip in the socket, crooked his finger and beckoned the
keeper. "Broadman!" said he, (for that was the man's name) "I'ze a
bit of something in your way of business this morning." The honest
functionary, with seeming surprise, again touching his hat as he
approached the vehicle, replied: "Your servant, sir!" Blowers
motioned his hand to the woman, whose tears were now, to Broadman's
surprise, seen coursing down her pale cheeks. To use a vulgar
phrase, Broadman was entirely "taken aback" by the singularity of
Blowers' manner; for the woman, whose dress and deportment the
honest man conceived to be nothing less than that of a lady of one
of the "first families," obeying the motion, began to descend from
the carriage. "Now, Broadman," continued Blowers, arranging his
reins, and with clumsy air making his descent over the fore wheels,
"take that 'ar wench o' mine, and, by the State's custom, give her
the extent of the law, well laid on."
The author here writes the incident as given by the prison-keeper.
The man hesitated, as if doubting his senses; rather would he have
been courteous to what he still viewed as a lady, than extend his
rude hand to lead her away.
"Pardon me, Sir! but you cannot mean what you say," nervously spoke
the man, as in doubt he exchanged glances first with the fair woman
and then with Blowers. "I means just what I says," returned that
gentleman, peremptorily; "you'ze hearn o' that 'un afore. She's a
nigger o' mine, what runned away more nor six years ago; come, do
the job for her, and no fussing over't." "Nigger!" interrupted the
man, in surprise. "Yes!" rejoined Blowers, emphasising his assurance
with oaths, of which he had a never-failing supply, "that's the
cussed white nigger what's gin me all the bother. The whiter niggers
is, the more devil's in em; and that ar' one's got devil enough for
a whole plantation; 'tisn't the licks I cares about, but it's the
humblin' on her feelings by being punished in the workhouse!" The
man of duty was now brought to his senses, when, seeing Blowers was
inclined to relieve his anger on what he was pleased to consider the
stupidity of a keeper, he took the weeping but resolute woman by the
arm, and called a negro attendant, into whose charge he handed her,
with an order to "put her in the slings." Soon she disappeared
within the gate, following the mulatto man. And here we will again
spare the reader's feelings, by omitting much that followed. Blowers
and Broadman follow the hapless woman, as she proceeds through a
narrow passage leading to the punishment room, and when about half
way to that place of torture, a small, square door opens on the
right, into a dingy office, the keeper says is where he keeps his
accounts with the State, which derives a large revenue from the
punishments. Into this does the worthy man invite his patron, whom
he would have be seated while the criminal is got "all right" in the
slings. Fain would Blowers go and attend the business himself; but
Broadman saying "that cannot be," he draws from his pocket a small
flask, and, seemingly contented, invites him to join in "somethin"
he says is the very choicest. Broadman has no objection to
encouraging this evidence of good feeling, which he will take
advantage of to introduce the dialogue that follows. "Good sir,"
says he, "you will pardon what I am about to say, for indeed I feel
the weakness of my position when addressing you, fortune having made
a wide distinction between us; but judge me not because I am coarse
of flesh, nor have polished manners, for I have a heart that feels
for the unfortunate." Here Blowers interrupted the keeper by saying
he would hear no chicken-hearted interpositions. "Remember, keeper,"
he added, "you must not presume on the small familiarity I have
condescended to admit in drinking with you. I hold no controversies
with prison-keepers (again he gulps his brandy) or their subs; being
a servant of the state, I order you to give that wench the extent of
the law. She shall disclose the secret of her escape, or I'll have
her life; I'm a man what won't stand no nonsense, I am!" The keeper,
rejoining, hopes he will pardon the seeming presumption; but,
forsooth, notwithstanding necessity has driven him to seek a
livelihood in his repulsive occupation, there is a duty of the heart
he cannot betray, though the bread of his maintenance be taken from
him. Blowers again assumes his dignity, rises from his seat, scowls
significantly at the keeper, and says he will go put through the
business with his own hands. "Good friend," says Broadman, arresting
Blowers' progress, "by the state's ruling you are my patron;
nevertheless, within these walls I am master, and whatever you may
bring here for punishment shall have the benefit of my discretion. I
loathe the law that forces me to, in such cases, overrule the admo-
nitions of my heart. I, sir, am low of this world,--good! but, in
regret do I say it, I have by a slave mother two fair daughters, who
in the very core of my heart I love; nor would I, imitating the
baser examples of our aristocracy, sell them hapless outcasts for
life." Here Blowers again interrupted by allowing his passion to
manifest itself in a few very fashionable oaths; to which he added,
that he (pacing the room several times) would no longer give ear to
such nonsense from a man of Broadman's position,--which was neither
socially nor politically grand. "No doubt, good sir, my humble and
somewhat repulsive calling does not meet your distinguished
consideration; but I am, nevertheless, a man. And what I was about
to say-I hope you will grant me a hearing-was, that having these two
daughters-poverty only prevents my purchasing them-has made me
sensible of these slaves having delicate textures. The unhappy
possession of these daughters has caused me to reflect-to study
constitutions, and their capacity to endure punishments. The woman
it has pleased you to bring here for chastisement, I take it, is not
coarse of flesh; but is one of those unfortunates whom kindness
might reform, while the lash never fails to destroy. Why, then, not
consider her in the light of a friendless wretch, whom it were
better to save, than sink in shame? One word more and I am done"
(Blowers was about to cut short the conversation); "the extent of
the law being nothing less than twenty blows of the paddle, is most
severe punishment for a woman of fine flesh to withstand on her
naked loins. Nor, let me say-and here I speak from twelve years'
experience-can the lady-I beg pardon, the slave you bring me!-bear
these blows: no, my lips never spoke truer when I say she'll quiver
and sink in spasms ere the second blow is laid on." Here-some twenty
minutes having passed since the fair slave was led into the
punishment room-Blowers cut short the conversation which had failed
to thaw his resolution, by saying Broadman had bored his ears in
spinning out his long song, and if he were unwilling to fulfil the
duties of his office, such should be reported to the authorities,
who would not permit workhouse-keepers so to modify their ordnances
that black and white niggers have different punishments. "Nay, sir!"
says the honest man, with an air of earnestness, as he rises from
his seat; "follow me, and with the reality will I prove the truth of
my words." Here he proceeds to that place of torments, the
punishment-room, followed by Blowers; who says, with singular
indifference-"Can do the job in five minutes; then I'll leave her
with you for two, three, or four days or so. Then if she's civilly
humbled down, I'll send my nigger fellow, Joe, with an order for
her. Joe'll be the fellow's name; now, mind that: but you know my
Joe, I reckon?" The keeper led the way, but made no reply; for
indeed he knew nothing of his Joe, there being innumerable niggers
of that name. As the men left the little office, and were sauntering
up the passage, our worthy friend Rosebrook might be seen entering
in search of Broadman; when, discovering Blowers in his company, and
hearing the significant words, he shot into a niche, unobserved by
them, and calling a negro attendant, learned the nature of his
visit. And here it becomes necessary that we discover to the reader
the fact of Rosebrook having been apprised of the forlorn woman's
return, and her perilous position in the hands of Pringle Blowers;
and, further, that the communication was effected by the negro man
Pompe, who we have before described in connection with Montague at
the time of his landing from the witch-like schooner. This Pompe was
sold to Blowers but a few months before Annette's recovery, and
acting upon the force of that sympathy which exists among fellow
slaves of a plantation, soon renewed old acquaintance, gained her
confidence, and, cunningly eluding the owner's watchfulness,
conveyed for her a letter to the Rosebrooks. In truth, Pompe had an
inveterate hatred of Blowers, and under the incitement would not
have hesitated to stake his life in defence of the fair woman. Now,
the exacting reader may question Rosebrook's intrepidity in not
proceeding at once to the rescue of the victim; but when we say that
he was ignorant of the positive order given the keeper, and only
caught distinctly the words-"I'll send my nigger fellow, Joe, with
an order for her!" they may discover an excuse for his hastily
withdrawing from the establishment. Indeed, that my reader may
withhold his censure, it may be well to add that he did this in
order to devise more strategical means of effecting her escape.
And now, ye who have nerves-let them not be shaken; let not your
emotions rise, ye who have souls, and love the blessings of liberty;
let not mothers nor fathers weep over democracy's wrongs; nor let
man charge us with picturing the horrors of a black romance when we
introduce the spectacle in the room of punishments: such, be it
known, is not our business, nor would we trifle unjustly with the
errors of society; but, if chivalry have blushes, we do not object
to their being used here. The keeper, followed by Blowers, enters a
small room at the further end of the passage. It is some sixteen
feet long by twelve wide, and proportionately high of ceiling. The
pale light of a tallow candle, suspended from the ceiling by a wire,
and from which large flakes of the melted grease lay cone-like on
the pine floor, discloses the gloom, and discovers hanging from the
walls, grim with smoke, sundry curious caps, cords, leathern cats,
and the more improved paddles of wood, with flat blades. The very
gloom of the place might excite the timid; but the reflection of how
many tortures it has been the scene, and the mysterious stillness
pervading its singularly decorated walls, add still more to increase
apprehension. A plank, some two feet wide, and raised a few inches,
stretches across the floor, and is secured at each end with cleets.
About midway of this are ropes securing the victim's feet; and
through the dim light is disclosed the half nude body of our fair
girl, suspended by the wrists, which are clasped in bands of cord,
that, being further secured to a pulley block, is hauled taut by a
tackle. Suddenly the wretched woman gives vent to her feelings, and
in paroxysms of grief sways her poor body to and fro, imploring
mercy! "Nay, master! think that I am a woman-that I have a heart to
feel and bleed; that I am a mother and a wife, though a slave. Let
your deeds be done quickly, or end me and save me this shame!" she
supplicates, as the bitter, burning anguish of her goaded soul gives
out its flood of sorrow. Chivalry, forsooth, lies cold and
unmoved-Blowers has no relish for such inconsistency;--such whinings,
he says, will not serve southern principles. The mulatto attendant
has secured the fall, and stands a few feet behind Blowers and the
keeper, as that functionary says, laying his coarse hands on the
woman's loins, "How silky!" The mulatto man shakes his head,
revengefully, making a grimace, as Broadman, having selected the
smallest paddle (reminding us of the curious sympathy now budding
between the autocratic knout and democratic lash) again addresses
Blowers. "I doubt, sir," he says, "if the woman stand a blow.
Necessity 's a hard master, sir; and in this very act is the test
more trying than I have ever known it. I dissemble myself when I see
a wretch of fine flesh-a woman with tender senses, in distress, and
I am made the instrument of adding to her suffering. Indeed, sir,
when I contemplate the cause of such wretchedness, and the poverty
forcing me to remain in this situation, no imagination can represent
the horror of my feelings."
"We have no demand on your feelings, my man! we want your duty-what
the state put you here to perform," interrupted Blowers, placing his
thumbs in his vest, and making a step backward. Another second, and
the attendant lighted a hand-lamp,--a sharp, slapping blow was heard,
a death-like shriek followed; the flesh quivered and contracted into
a discoloured and inflamed pustule; the body writhed a few seconds
in convulsive spasms; a low moaning followed, and that fair form
hung swooning in the slings, as the keeper, in fright, cried out, at
the top of his voice, to the attendant--"Lower away the fall!" As if
the fiend had not yet gratified his passion, no sooner was the
seemingly lifeless body lowered clumsily to the floor, than he
grasped the weapon from Broadman's hand, and like a tiger seeking
its banquet of flesh, was about to administer a second blow. But
Broadman had a good heart, the admonitions of which soared high
above the state's mandate: seizing Blowers in his arms, he ejected
him from the door, ran back to the prostrate woman, released her
bruised limbs from the fastenings, gathered her to his arms; and
with nervous hands and anxious face did he draw from his pocket the
well-timed hartshorn, by the application of which he sought to
restore her, as the mulatto man stood by, bathing her temples with
cold water. "Ah! shame on the thing called a man who could abuse a
sweet creature of fine flesh, like thee! it's not many has such a
pretty sweet face," says Broadman, with an air of compassion,
resting her shoulder against his bended knee as he encircles it with
his left arm, and looks upon the pale features, tears glistening in
his honest eyes. We might say with Broadman--"It's not the finest,
nor the polished of flesh, that hath the softest hearts." But,
reader, having performed our duty, let us drop the curtain over this
sad but true scene; and when you have conjectured the third and
fourth acts of the drama, join with us in hoping the chivalry of our
State may yet awake to a sense of its position, that, when we again
raise it, a pleasanter prospect may be presented.