Perhaps no race of people on the face of the habitable globe are so
strongly imbued with individual peculiarities as the free and slave negro
population of the United States. Out-heroding Herod in their monstrous
attempts of imitating and exceeding the fashions of the whites, the
emulative "Darkies" may be seen on Sundays occupying the whole extent of
the Broadway pavement, dressed in fashions carried to the very sublime of
the ridiculous. Whatever is the order of the day, the highest _ton_ among
the whites is instantly adopted, with the most ludicrous exaggeration, by
the blacks: if small brims be worn by the beaus of the former, they
degenerate to nothing on the skulls of the latter; if width be the order
of the day, the coloured gentlemen rush out in unmeasurable umbrellas of
felt, straw, and gossamer. A long-tailed white is, in comparison, but a
docked black. Should muslin trip from a carriage, tucked or flounced to
the knee, the same material, sported by a sable belle, will take its next
Sunday out fur-belowed from hip to heel. Parasols are parachutes; sandals,
black bandages; large bonnets, straw sheds, and small ones, nonentities.
So it is with colours: green becomes more green, blue more blue, orange
more orange, and crimson more flaming, when sported by these ebon slaves
of deep-rooted vanity.
The spirit of imitation manifests itself in all their actions: hence it is
by no means an uncommon occurrence to see a tall, round-shouldered,
woolly-headed, buck-shinned, and inky-complexioned "Free Nigger,"
sauntering out on Sunday, shading his huge weather-proof face from the
rays of the encroaching sun under a carefully-carried silk umbrella! And
again, as in many of the places of worship the whole congregation cannot
be accommodated with seats, many of the members supply their own; so these
sable gentry may be frequently seen progressing to church with a small
stool under their arms: and in one instance, rather than be disappointed,
or obliged to stand,--a solemn-looking specimen of the species actually
provided himself with a strong brick-bat, and having carefully covered it
with his many and bright-coloured bandana, preserved his gravity, and,
still more strange, his balance, with an irresistible degree of
mirth-creating composure.
Their laziness and unequivocal antipathy to work is as true as proverbial.
We know an instance of it in which the master ordered his sable "help" to
carry a small box from the steam pier to the Astor-House Hotel, where his
newly-married wife, an English lady, was waiting for it; judge of her
surprise to see the dark gentleman arrive followed by an Irish lad bearing
the freight intended for himself.
"Dar," said the domineering conductor; "dar, dat will do; put da box down
dar. Now, Missis, look here, jist give dat chap a shillin."
"A shilling! What for?"
"Cos he bring up dar plunder from de bay."
"Why didn't you bring it yourself?"
"Look here. Somehow I rader guess I should ha let dar box fall and
smashiated de contents, so I jist give dat white trash de job jest to let
de poor crittur arn a shillin."
Remonstrance was vain, so the money was paid; the lady declaring, for the
future, should he think proper to employ a deputy, it must be at his own
expense. The above term "white trash" is the one commonly employed to
express their supreme contempt for the "low Irish wulgar set."
Their dissensions among themselves are irresistibly comic. Threatening
each other in the most outrageous manner; pouring out invectives,
anathemas, and denunciations of the most deadly nature; but nine times in
ten letting the strife end without a blow; affording in their quarrels an
apt illustration of
"A tale full of sound and fury,
Told by an idiot, signifying nothing."
Suppose an affront, fancied or real, put by one on another, the common
commencement of ireful expostulations generally runs as follows:--
"Look here! you d--m black nigger; what you do dat for, Sar?"
"Hoo you call black, Sar? D--m, as white as you, Sar; any day, Sar. You
nigger, Sar!"
"Look here agin; don't you call me a nigger, Sar. Now, don't you do it."
"Why not?"
"Neber mind; I've told you on it, so don't you go to do it no more, you
mighty low black, cos if you do put my dander up, and make me wrasey, I
rader guess I'll smash in your nigger's head, like a bust-up egg-shell.
Ise a ring-tailed roarer, I tell you!"
"Reckon I'm a Pottomus. Don't you go to put my steam up; d--d if don't
bust and scald you out. I'm nothing but a snorter--a pretty considerable
tarnation long team, and a couple of horses to spare; so jest be quiet, I
tell you, or I'll use you up uncommon sharp."
"You use me up! Yoo, yoo! D--m! You and your wife and some nigger
children, all ob you, was sold for a hundred and fifty dollars less than
this nigger."
"Look here, don't you say dat agin; don't you do it; I tell you, don't you
do it, or I'll jist give you such an almighty everlasting shaking, dat you
shall pray for a cold ague as a holiday. I'm worth considerable more
dollars dan sich a low black man as you is worth cents. Why, didn't dey
offer to give you away, only you such dam trash no one would take you, so
at last you was knocked down to a blind man."
"What dat? Here! Stand clear dar behind, and get out ob de way in front,
I'm jist going to take a run and butt dat nigger out of de State. Let me
go, do you hear? Golly, if you hadn't held me he'd a been werry small
pieces by dis time. D--m, I'll break him up."
"Yoo, yoo! Your low buck-shins neber carry your black head fast enough to
catch dis elegant nigger. You jist run; you'll find I'm nothing but an
alligator. You hab no more chance dan a black slug under de wheels of a
plunder-train carriage. You is unnoticeable by dis gentleman."
"Dar dat good, gentleman! Golly, dat good! Look here, don't you neber
speak to me no more."
"And look here, nigger, don't you neber speak to me."
"See you d--m fust, black man."
"See you scorched fust, nigger."
"Good day, trash."
"Good mornin, dirt!"
So generally ends the quarrel; but about half-an-hour afterwards the Trash
and Dirt will generally be found lauding each other to the skies, and
cementing a new six hours' friendship over some brandy punch or a mint
julep.
* * * * *
SONGS OF THE SEEDY.--No. VI.
You bid me rove, Mary,
In the shady grove, Mary,
With you to the close of even;
But I can't, my dear,
For I must, I swear,
Be off at a quarter to seven.
Nay, do not start, Mary;
Nor let your heart, Mary,
Be disturb'd in its innocent purity;
I'm sure that _you_
Wouldn't have me do
My friend--my bail--my security!
That tearful eye, Mary,
Seems to ask me why, Mary,
I can wait till sunset on'y.
Ah! turn not away;
I am out for the day
On a _Fleet_ and fleeting _pony_.
Your wide open mouth, Mary,
With its breath like the south, Mary,
Seems to ask for an explanation.
Well, though not of the schools,
I live within _rules_,
And am subject to observation.
But come to my arms, Mary;
Let no dread alarms, Mary,
In our present happiness warp us!
I've not the least doubt
Of soon getting out,
By a writ of _habeas corpus_.
Away with despair, Mary;
Let us cast in the air, Mary,
His dark and gloomy fetters.
Why _should_ we be rack'd,
When we think of the Act
For relieving Insolvent Debtors.
* * * * *