THE SABLE CLOUD:
A SOUTHERN TALE,
WITH NORTHERN COMMENTS.
BY THE AUTHOR OF
"A SOUTH-SIDE VIEW OF SLAVERY."
"I did not err, there does a sable cloud
Turn forth her silver lining on the night"
MILTON'S COMUS
BOSTON:
TICKNOR AND FIELDS.
MDCCCLXI
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1861, by
TICKNOR AND FIELDS,
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of
Massachusetts
RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE
STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY H O HOUGHTON
CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAPTER I.
DEATH AND BURIAL OF A SLAVE'S INFANT 1
CHAPTER II.
NORTHERN COMMENTS ON SOUTHERN LIFE 5
CHAPTER III.
MORBID NORTHERN CONSCIENCE 32
CHAPTER IV.
RESOLUTIONS FOR A CONVENTION 53
CHAPTER V.
THE GOOD NORTHERN LADY'S LETTER FROM THE SOUTH 59
CHAPTER VI.
QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 118
CHAPTER VII.
OWNERSHIP IN MAN.--THE OLD TESTAMENT SLAVERY 150
CHAPTER VIII.
THE TENURE 177
CHAPTER IX.
DISCUSSION IN PHILEMON'S CHURCH AT THE RETURN OF ONESIMUS 205
CHAPTER X.
THE FUTURE 239
CHAPTER I.
DEATH AND BURIAL OF A SLAVE'S INFANT.
"The small and great are there, and the servant is free from his
master."
A Southern gentleman, who was visiting in New York, sent me, with his
reply to my inquiries for the welfare of his family at home, the
following letter which he had just received from one of his married
daughters in the South.
The reader will be so kind as to take the assurance which the writer
hereby gives him, that the letter was received under the circumstances
now stated, and that it is not a fiction. Certain names and the date
only are, for obvious reasons, omitted.
THE LETTER.
MY DEAR FATHER,--
You have so recently heard from and about those of us left here, and
that in a so much more satisfactory way than through letters, that it
scarcely seems worth while to write just yet. But Mary left Kate's poor
little baby in such a pitiable state, that I think it will be a relief
to all to hear that its sufferings are ended. It died about ten o'clock
the night that she left us, very quietly and without a struggle, and at
sunset on Friday we laid it in its last resting-place. My husband and I
went out in the morning to select the spot for its burial, and finding
the state of affairs in the cemetery, we chose a portion of ground and
will have it inclosed with a railing. They have been very careless in
the management of the ground, and have allowed persons to inclose and
bury in any shape or way they chose, so that the whole is cut up in a
way that makes it difficult to find a place where two or three graves
could be put near each other. We did find one at last, however, about
the size of the Hazel Wood lots; and we will inclose it at once, so that
when another, either from our own family or those of the other branches,
wants a resting-place, there shall not be the same trouble. Poor old
Timmy lies there; but it is in a part of the grounds where, the sexton
tells us, the water rises within three feet of the surface; so, of
course, we did not go there for this little grave. His own family
selected his burial-place, and probably did not think of this.
Kate takes her loss very patiently, though she says that she had no idea
how much she would grieve after the child. It had been sick so long that
she said she wanted to have it go; but I knew when she said it that she
did not know what the parting would be. It is not the parting alone, but
it is the horror of the grave,--the tender child alone in the far off
gloomy burial-ground, the heavy earth piled on the tender little breast,
the helplessness that looked to you for protection which you could not
give, and the emptiness of the home to which you return when the child
is gone. He who made a mother's heart and they who have borne it, alone
can tell the unutterable pain of all this. The little child is so
carefully and tenderly watched over and cherished while it is with
you,--and then to leave it alone in the dread grave where the winds and
the rain beat upon it! I know they do not feel it, but since mine has
been there, I have never felt sheltered from the storms when they come.
The rain seems to fall on my bare heart. I have said more than I meant
to have said on this subject, and have left myself little heart to write
of anything else. Tell Mammy that it is a great disappointment to me
that her name is not to have a place in my household. I was always so
pleased with the idea that my Susan and little Cygnet should grow up
together as the others had done; but it seems best that it should not be
so, or it would not have been denied. Tell Mary that Chloe staid that
night with Kate, and has been kind to her. All are well at her house.
* * * * *
Of the persons named in this letter,
KATE is a slave-mother, belonging to the lady who writes the letter.
CYGNET was Kate's babe.
MAMMY is a common appellation for a slave-nurse. The Mammy to whom the
message in the letter is sent was nursery-maid when the writer of the
letter and several brothers and sisters were young; and, more than this,
she was maid to their mother in early years. She is still in this
gentleman's family. Her name is Cygnet; Kate's babe was named for her.
MARY is the lady's married sister.
CHLOE is Mary's servant.
The incidental character of this letter and the way in which it came to
me, gave it a special charm. Some recent traveller, describing his
sensations at Heidelberg Castle, speaks of a German song which he heard,
at the moment, from a female at some distance and out of sight. This
letter, like that song, derives much of its effect from the
unconsciousness of the author that it would reach a stranger.
Having read this letter many times, always with the same emotions as at
first, I resolved to try the effect of it upon my friend, A. Freeman
North. He is an upright man, much sought after in the settlement of
estates, especially where there are fiduciary trusts. Placing the letter
in his hands, I asked him, when he should have read it, to put in
writing his impressions and reflections. The result will be found in the
next chapter. Mrs. North, also, will engage the reader's kind attention.