<h2><SPAN name="chap22"></SPAN>CHAPTER XXII</h2>
<p class="letter">
Small Landed Proprietors—Slavery</p>
<p>I now, for the first time since I crossed the mountains, found myself
sufficiently at leisure to look deliberately round, and mark the different
aspects of men and things in a region which, though bearing the same name, and
calling itself the same land, was, in many respects, as different from the one
I had left, as Amsterdam from St. Petersburg. There every man was straining,
and struggling, and striving for himself (heaven knows!) Here every white man
was waited upon, more or less, by a slave. There, the newly-cleared lands, rich
with the vegetable manure accumulated for ages, demanded the slightest labour
to return the richest produce; where the plough entered, crops the most
abundant followed; but where it came not, no spot of native verdure, no native
fruits, no native flowers cheered the eye; all was close, dark, stifling
forest. Here the soil had long ago yielded its first fruits; much that had been
cleared and cultivated for tobacco (the most exhausting of crops) by the
English, required careful and laborious husbandry to produce any return; and
much was left as sheep-walks. It was in these spots that the natural bounty of
the soil and climate was displayed by the innumerable wild fruits and flowers
which made every dingle and bushy dell seem a garden.</p>
<p>On entering the cottages I found also a great difference in the manner of
living. Here, indeed, there were few cottages without a slave, but there were
fewer still that had their beefsteak and onions for breakfast, dinner, and
supper. The herrings of the bountiful Potomac supply their place. These are
excellent “relish,” as they call it, when salted, and, if I mistake
not, are sold at a dollar and a half per thousand. Whiskey, however, flows
every where at the same fatally cheap rate of twenty cents (about one shilling)
the gallon, and its hideous effects are visible on the countenance of every man
you meet.</p>
<p>The class of people the most completely unlike any existing in England, are
those who, farming their own freehold estates, and often possessing several
slaves, yet live with as few of the refinements, and I think I may say, with as
few of the comforts of life, as the very poorest English peasant. When in
Maryland, I went into the houses of several of these small proprietors, and
remained long enough, and looked and listened sufficiently, to obtain a
tolerably correct idea of their manner of living.</p>
<p>One of these families consisted of a young man, his wife, two children, a
female slave, and two young lads, slaves also. The farm belonged to the wife,
and, I was told, consisted of about three hundred acres of indifferent land,
but all cleared. The house was built of wood, and looked as if the three slaves
might have overturned it, had they pushed hard against the gable end. It
contained one room, of about twelve feet square, and another adjoining it,
hardly larger than a closet; this second chamber was the lodging-room of the
white part of the family. Above these rooms was a loft, without windows, where
I was told the “staying company” who visited them, were lodged.
Near this mansion was a “shanty,” a black hole, without any window,
which served as kitchen and all other offices, and also as the lodging of the
blacks.</p>
<p>We were invited to take tea with this family, and readily consented to do so.
The furniture of the room was one heavy huge table, and about six wooden
chairs. When we arrived the lady was in rather a dusky dishabille, but she
vehemently urged us to be seated, and then retired into the closet-chamber
above mentioned, whence she continued to address to us from behind the door,
all kinds of “genteel country visiting talk,” and at length emerged
upon us in a smart new dress.</p>
<p>Her female slave set out the great table, and placed upon it cups of the very
coarsest blue ware, a little brown sugar in one, and a tiny drop of milk in
another, no butter, though the lady assured us she had a
“<i>deary</i>” and two cows. Instead of butter, she “hoped we
would fix a little relish with our crackers,” in ancient English, eat
salt meat and dry biscuits. Such was the fare, and for guests that certainly
were intended to be honoured. I could not help recalling the delicious repasts
which I remembered to have enjoyed at little dairy farms in England, not
<i>possessed</i>, but rented, and at high rents too; where the clean,
fresh-coloured, bustling mistress herself skimmed the delicious cream, herself
spread the yellow butter on the delightful brown loaf, and placed her curds,
and her junket, and all the delicate treasures of her dairy before us, and
then, with hospitable pride, placed herself at her board, and added the more
delicate “relish” of good tea and good cream. I remembered all
this, and did not think the difference atoned for, by the dignity of having my
cup handed to me by a slave. The lady I now visited, however, greatly surpassed
my quondam friends in the refinement of her conversation. She ambled through
the whole time the visit lasted, in a sort of elegantly mincing familiar style
of gossip, which, I think, she was imitating from some novel, for I was told
she was a great novel reader, and left all household occupations to be
performed by her slaves. To say she addressed us in a tone of equality, will
give no adequate idea of her manner; I am persuaded that no misgiving on the
subject ever entered her head. She told us that their estate was her
divi-<i>dend</i> of her father’s property. She had married a first
cousin, who was as fine a gentleman as she was a lady, and as idle, preferring
hunting (as they called shooting) to any other occupation. The consequence was,
that but a very small portion of the dividend was cultivated, and their poverty
was extreme. The slaves, particularly the lads, were considerably more than
half naked, but the air of dignity with which, in the midst of all this misery,
the lanky lady said to one of the young negroes, “Attend to your young
master, Lycurgus,” must have been heard to be conceived in the full
extent of its mock heroic.</p>
<p>Another dwelling of one of these landed proprietors was a hovel as wretched as
the one above described, but there was more industry within it. The gentleman,
indeed, was himself one of the numerous tribe of regular whiskey drinkers, and
was rarely capable of any work; but he had a family of twelve children, who,
with their skeleton mother, worked much harder than I ever saw negroes do. They
were, accordingly, much less elegant and much less poor than the heiress; yet
they lived with no appearance of comfort, and with, I believe, nothing beyond
the necessaries of life. One proof of this was, that the worthless father would
not suffer them to raise, even by their own labour, any garden vegetables, and
they lived upon their fat pork, salt fish, and corn bread, summer and winter,
without variation. This, I found, was frequently the case among the farmers.
The luxury of whiskey is more appreciated by the men than all the green
delicacies from the garden, and if all the ready money goes for that and their
darling chewing tobacco, none can be spent by the wife for garden seeds; and as
far as my observation extended, I never saw any American <i>menage</i> where
the toast and no toast question, would have been decided in favour of the lady.</p>
<p>There are some small farmers who hold their lands as tenants, but these are by
no means numerous: they do not pay their rent in money, but by making over a
third of the produce to the owner; a mode of paying rent, considerably more
advantageous to the tenant than the landlord; but the difficulty of obtaining
<i>money</i> in payment, excepting for mere retail articles, is very great in
all American transactions. “I can pay in pro-<i>duce</i>,” is the
offer which I was assured is constantly made on all occasions, and if rejected,
“Then I guess we can’t deal,” is the usual rejoinder. This
statement does not, of course, include the great merchants of great cities, but
refers to the mass of the people scattered over the country; it has, indeed,
been my object, in speaking of the customs of the people, to give an idea of
what they are <i>generally</i>.</p>
<p>The effect produced upon English people by the sight of slavery in every
direction is very new, and not very agreeable, and it is not the less painfully
felt from hearing upon every breeze the mocking words, “All men are born
free and equal.” One must be in the heart of American slavery, fully to
appreciate that wonderfully fine passage in Moore’s Epistle to Lord
Viscount Forbes, which describes perhaps more faithfully, as well as more
powerfully, the political state of America, than any thing that has ever been
written upon it.</p>
<p class="poem">
Oh! Freedom, Freedom, how I hate thy cant!<br/>
Not eastern bombast, nor the savage rant<br/>
Of purpled madmen, were they numbered all<br/>
From Roman Nero, down to Russian Paul,<br/>
Could grate upon my ear so mean, so base,<br/>
As the rank jargon of that factious race,<br/>
Who, poor of heart, and prodigal of words,<br/>
Born to be slaves, and struggling to be lords,<br/>
But pant for licence, while they spurn controul,<br/>
And shout for rights, with rapine in their soul!<br/>
Who can, with patience, for a moment see<br/>
The medley mass of pride and misery,<br/>
Of whips and charters, manacles and rights,<br/>
Of slaving blacks, and democratic whites,<br/>
Of all the pyebald polity that reigns<br/>
In free confusion o’er Columbia’s plains?<br/>
To think that man, thou just and gentle God!<br/>
Should stand before thee with a tyrant’s rod,<br/>
O’er creatures like himself, with soul from thee,<br/>
Yet dare to boast of perfect liberty:<br/>
Away, away, I’d rather hold my neck<br/>
By doubtful tenure from a Sultan’s beck,<br/>
In climes where liberty has scarce been named,<br/>
Nor any right, but that of ruling, claimed,<br/>
Than thus to live, where bastard freedom waves<br/>
Her fustian flag in mockery o’er slaves;<br/>
Where (motley laws admitting no degree<br/>
Betwixt the vilely slaved, and madly free)<br/>
Alike the bondage and the licence suit,<br/>
The brute made ruler, and the man made brute!</p>
<p>The condition of domestic slaves, however, does not generally appear to be bad;
but the ugly feature is, that should it be so, they have no power to change it.
I have seen much kind attention bestowed upon the health of slaves; but it is
on these occasions impossible to forget, that did this attention fail, a
valuable piece of property would be endangered. Unhappily the slaves, too, know
this, and the consequence is, that real kindly feeling very rarely can exist
between the parties. It is said that slaves born in a family are attached to
the children of it, who have grown up with them. This may be the case where the
petty acts of infant tyranny have not been sufficient to conquer the kindly
feeling naturally produced by long and early association; and this sort of
attachment may last as long as the slave can be kept in that state of profound
ignorance which precludes reflection. The law of Virginia has taken care of
this. The State legislators may truly be said to be “wiser in their
generation than the children of light,” and they ensure their safety by
forbidding light to enter among them. By the law of Virginia it is penal to
teach any slave to read, and it is penal to be aiding and abetting in the act
of instructing them. This law speaks volumes. Domestic slaves are, generally
speaking, tolerably well fed, and decently clothed; and the mode in which they
are lodged seems a matter of great indifference to them. They are rarely
exposed to the lash, and they are carefully nursed in sickness. These are the
favourable features of their situation. The sad one is, that they may be sent
to the south and sold. This is the dread of all the slaves north of Louisiana.
The sugar plantations, and more than all, the rice grounds of Georgia and the
Carolinas, are the terror of American negroes; and well they may be, for they
open an early grave to thousands; and to <i>avoid loss</i> it is needful to
make their previous labour pay their value.</p>
<p>There is something in the system of breeding and rearing negroes in the
Northern States, for the express purpose of sending them to be sold in the
South, that strikes painfully against every feeling of justice, mercy, or
common humanity. During my residence in America I became perfectly persuaded
that the state of a domestic slave in a gentleman’s family was preferable
to that of a hired American “help,” both because they are more
cared for and valued, and because their condition being born with them, their
spirits do not struggle against it with that pining discontent which seems the
lot of all free servants in America. But the case is widely different with such
as, in their own persons, or those of their children, “loved in
vain,” are exposed to the dreadful traffic above mentioned. In what is
their condition better than that of the kidnapped negroes on the coast of
Africa? Of the horror in which this enforced migration is held I had a strong
proof during our stay in Virginia. The father of a young slave, who belonged to
the lady with whom we boarded, was destined to this fate, and within an hour
after it was made known to him, he sharpened the hatchet with which he had been
felling timber, and with his right hand severed his left from the wrist.</p>
<p>But this is a subject on which I do not mean to dilate; it has been lately
treated most judiciously by a far abler hand.<SPAN href="#fn10" name="fnref10" id="fnref10"><sup>[10]</sup></SPAN>
Its effects on the moral feelings and external manners of the people are all I
wish to observe upon, and these are unquestionably most injurious. The same man
who beards his wealthier and more educated neighbour with the bullying boast,
“I’m as good as you,” turns to his slave, and knocks him
down, if the furrow he has ploughed, or the log he has felled, please not this
stickler for equality. There is a glaring falsehood on the very surface of such
a man’s principles that is revolting. It is not among the higher classes
that the possession of slaves produces the worst effects. Among the poorer
class of landholders, who are often as profoundly ignorant as the negroes they
own, the effect of this plenary power over males and females is most
demoralising; and the kind of coarse, not to say brutal, authority which is
exercised, furnishes the most disgusting moral spectacle I ever witnessed. In
all ranks, however, it appeared to me that the greatest and best feelings of
the human heart were paralyzed by the relative positions of slave and owner.
The characters, the hearts of children, are irretrievably injured by it. In
Virginia we boarded for some time in a family consisting of a widow and her
four daughters, and I there witnessed a scene strongly indicative of the effect
I have mentioned. A young female slave, about eight years of age, had found on
the shelf of a cupboard a biscuit, temptingly buttered, of which she had eaten
a considerable portion before she was observed. The butter had been copiously
sprinkled with arsenic for the destruction of rats, and had been thus most
incautiously placed by one of the young ladies of the family. As soon as the
circumstance was known, the lady of the house came to consult me as to what had
best be done for the poor child; I immediately mixed a large cup of mustard and
water (the most rapid of all emetics) and got the little girl to swallow it.
The desired effect was instantly produced, but the poor child, partly from
nausea, and partly from the terror of hearing her death proclaimed by half a
dozen voices round her, trembled so violently that I thought she would fall. I
sat down in the court where we were standing, and, as a matter of course, took
the little sufferer in my lap. I observed a general titter among the white
members of the family, while the black stood aloof, and looked stupified. The
youngest of the family, a little girl about the age of the young slave, after
gazing at me for a few moments in utter astonishment, exclaimed “My! If
Mrs. Trollope has not taken her in her lap, and wiped her nasty mouth! Why I
would not have touched her mouth for two hundred dollars!”</p>
<p class="footnote">
<SPAN name="fn10" id="fn10"></SPAN> <SPAN href="#fnref10">[10]</SPAN>
See Captain Hall’s Travels in America.</p>
<p>The little slave was laid on a bed, and I returned to my own apartments; some
time afterwards I sent to enquire for her, and learnt that she was in great
pain. I immediately went myself to enquire farther, when another young lady of
the family, the one by whose imprudence the accident had occurred, met my
anxious enquiries with ill-suppressed mirth—told me they had sent for the
doctor—and then burst into uncontrollable laughter. The idea of really
sympathising in the sufferings of a slave appeared to them as absurd as weeping
over a calf that had been slaughtered by the butcher. The daughters of my
hostess were as lovely as features and complexion could make them; but the
neutralizing effect of this total want of feeling upon youth and beauty, must
be witnessed, to be conceived.</p>
<p>There seems in general a strong feeling throughout America, that none of the
negro race can be trusted, and as fear, according to their notions, is the only
principle by which a slave can be actuated, it is not wonderful if the
imputation be just. But I am persuaded that were a different mode of moral
treatment pursued, most important and beneficial consequences would result from
it. Negroes are very sensible to kindness, and might, I think, be rendered more
profitably obedient by the practice of it towards them, than by any other mode
of discipline whatever. To emancipate them entirely throughout the Union
cannot, I conceive, be thought of, consistently with the safety of the country;
but were the possibility of amelioration taken into the consideration of the
legislature, with all the wisdom, justice, and mercy, that could be brought to
bear upon it, the negro population of the Union might cease to be a terror, and
their situation no longer be a subject either of indignation or of pity.</p>
<p>I observed every where throughout the slave States that all articles which can
be taken and consumed are constantly locked up, and in large families, where
the extent of the establishment multiplies the number of keys, these are
deposited in a basket, and consigned to the care of a little negress, who is
constantly seen following her mistress’s steps with this basket on her
arm, and this, not only that the keys may be always at hand, but because,
should they be out of sight one moment, that moment would infallibly be
employed for purposes of plunder. It seemed to me in this instance, as in many
others, that the close personal attendance of these sable shadows, must be very
annoying; but whenever I mentioned it, I was assured that no such feeling
existed, and that use rendered them almost unconscious of their presence.</p>
<p>I had, indeed, frequent opportunities of observing this habitual indifference
to the presence of their slaves. They talk of them, of their condition, of
their faculties, of their conduct, exactly as if they were incapable of
hearing. I once saw a young lady, who, when seated at table between a male and
a female, was induced by her modesty to intrude on the chair of her female
neighbour to avoid the indelicacy of touching the elbow of a man. I once saw
this very young lady lacing her stays with the most perfect composure before a
negro footman. A Virginian gentleman told me that ever since he had married, he
had been accustomed to have a negro girl sleep in the same chamber with himself
and his wife. I asked for what purpose this nocturnal attendance was necessary?
“Good heaven!” was the reply, “if I wanted a glass of water
during the night, what would become of me?”</p>
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