■^ 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 THE WILMER COLLECTION 
 OF CIML WAR NOVELS 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 RICHARD H. WILMER, JR. 
 
y ILMEa CQLLECri 
 
TIMES KEYEXGES. 
 
BLUE BLOOD; 
 
 OR, 
 
 WHITE MAY AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 BY 
 
 L E O ]S" D A X D E 
 
 -«-oJ«« 
 
 BOSTON : 
 HENRY L. SHETARD & CO 
 
 ^8 7 7/.. 
 
COPYRIGHT. 
 
 HENRY L. S H E P A R D, 
 1877. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 YOUNG Haywood had just returned from the races. He 
 had thrown the reins of his panting horses to the groom 
 awaiting him on the pavement. 
 
 The haughty clash of his heel on the heav}^ staircase rang through 
 the lofty hall, and as the double step of his companion and him- 
 self approached his chamber, the door opened widely, as if in in- 
 stinctive obedience to his desire. 
 
 It closed after them ; its oaken violence restrained by a hand 
 that guided it noiselessly to the threshold. 
 
 The waxed floor stretched away to the small squares of sunlight 
 which had found their way through gables, dormer windows, towers 
 and turrets, — and at last lay sleeping on the polished surface. 
 
 Ralph's petted hounds stretched their weary limbs to rest, half 
 buried in the mossy roses of a rich rug just spread for their use, 
 and young Lord Malvern speedily settled himself in a high backed 
 easy chair. 
 
 "Damn this belt!" rang out on the stillness. "March! take 
 these pistols ! " 
 
 "Yes sir! pardon ! here are letters sir." And the faithful ser- 
 vant took the pistols with one hand, while he proffered, the letters 
 with the other. 
 
 "O Jupiter! and all the gods of Olympus! — letters! March 
 are you mad ? Bring wine before letters ! — Fill the brimming 
 goblet ! Ensuite the dressing room, and then mon valet-de-chani' 
 dre^ nC apportez mes billets. ^^ 
 
 681413 
 
8 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Ralph addressed Lord George deferentially. " A gentleman of 
 the turf needs have his nerves braced by the spirit of the vine, before 
 he undertakes the literary career of perusing missives from ' Vau- 
 cluse, and Pedee plantations. Take a bumper yourself, my lord ! 
 Ihis wine has seen age ! One should be wiser as well as wittier, 
 for Its potations ! " 
 
 Glass after glass was drained to its purple depths, till its effer- 
 vescence gleamed in their glowing cheeks. Weariness and fatigue 
 were chased away, by the insidious balm which crept through the 
 vems, and lulled irritability of nerves. Ideas such as only rank 
 and chivalry can sport, were advanced and discussed. 
 ^ These floated forth on their winy breath like blown bubbles, 
 tinged with all the hues of the Iris. The young English lord, and 
 the American cavalier had become the Autocrats of all vulgar 
 destinies. Races, operas, theatres, universities, thrones, govern- 
 ments, principalities and powers were brought upon the docket, 
 and each in parliamentary turn were laid on the table." 
 
 "Betting ran high to-day," said Ralph. "A mint of money 
 changed hands." 
 
 " Yes ; the day was fine, and the track in good order. These 
 races were gotten up by a few mutual friends, not so much for the 
 purpose of speculation, as to enjoy a little hearty recreation." 
 
 ''Au cojitrairc, the stakes amounted to twenty-five thousand 
 doHars ; single purses from two to five thousand dollars." 
 
 " Doubtless ; after a few heats, blood is up ! Races and purses 
 are married facts ; but who is the owner of that spiiited silver grey 
 stalhon in the diree mile heat?" questioned Lord Malvern. 
 
 "'Greylock' is mine! I am happy to acknowledge myself the 
 master of moji hd arabe,'' replied Haywood, proudly. 
 
 " He has fine spirit and action. He passed the winning post a 
 full length ahead of his competitor," said his companion, flatter- 
 ingly. 
 
 ";Aye; my lord land' Greylock's' rider has a superior system 
 of jockeying. An English jockey from Epsom races. If money 
 would have purchased his swarthy Arab master for 'Greylock's' 
 back, I would set the world at defiance. 
 
 " Is he true Arabian blood .? " 
 
 " Pure as the dews distilled on Hermon. Last winter, after 
 
 if 
 
«».' 
 
 % 
 
 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 being dubbed 'Savant' at Z* Universite, and packing books out of 
 sight, I took a trip over the Mediterranean to Alexandria, Cairo, 
 and the Pyramids. I brought back the beauty, fairly tearing him 
 from one of the chiefs of the desert ! " 
 
 " ' Dusty Bay's ' owner was an American 1 " 
 
 " Yes ; a Georgian. ' Dusty Bay ' was shipped to my friend from 
 California — fine blood ; trim, flinty limbs ; contesting every inch 
 of ground. Lapped ' Greylock ' on the outward stretch, but broke 
 badly on the home run." 
 
 " Both came in at a killing gait ; but Ralph, my friend, did you 
 observe the dodge of ' Dusty Bay's ' jockey ? He is a live Yankee ! 
 He gave 'Greylock's ' jockey a sly, sharp cut over the head, as he 
 passed at the dra\\ gate." 
 
 " Holy God ! where were my eyes .'' That cursed Austrian called 
 my attention with his rattling tongue ; else the ' live Yankee ' would 
 have fallen from his saddle as a blasted fig falls from the branch. 
 That would have been his last race ! " 
 
 " But your fleet Arab might have fallen." 
 
 " Nay, Lord George ! my pistol never misses aim. Have had 
 experience on the plains, and among the marshes of Carolina! 
 Have brought down slave-runaways on the leap, as easily as your 
 best hunters mark deer in English parks ! Trained to it, you see ! 
 We Southerners must be good shots ! Sharp gunnery is one of the 
 defences of our ' peculiar institutions.' That kind of practice makes 
 2l man a shot ! " 
 
 " You have steeple-chases in America, then, with some purpose 
 in view," interposed Lord George. 
 
 '' We have rare game to lure us to pursuit. A sort of African 
 hybrid, which has no particular cover peculiar to itself, such as 
 other animals have." 
 
 "The loss of such game, I suppose, is not merely the loss- of a 
 haunch of vension, or a tidbit for an epicurean table ; but the loss 
 of so much funds invested?" 
 
 " Ah ! There you have it, my lord ! " and Ralph paced the ring- 
 ing floor with consequential strides, every step giving emphasis. 
 "There you have it! Slave-hunting in South Carolina among the 
 piny woods and brier-jungles, is like hunting gold in water-courses, 
 or diamonds in Brazil. Every capture puts in your pocket a cool one 
 
# 
 
 10 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 ilwusand^ or ffteeii hundred, Mais, pardonnez-moi ! I remember 
 the British are being converted by the cant of one Wilberforce, and, 
 perhaps to your English ear, my lord, a conversation on deer hunt- 
 ing would be more an fait to the times." 
 
 "Ah ! as to that matter, have no delicacy in expressing your sen- 
 timents. Every nation to its taste ; but, by the way, do you in 
 America, number deer hunting among your field sports ? " 
 
 " By the gods ! Diana herself could claim no richer hunting- 
 ground. — You should see some of our forest pictures ! You should 
 see the deer standing in groups beneath our splendid live oaks, toss- 
 ing their antlers among the long grey moss curtaining their coverts ; 
 or coming in pairs to drink in some shadowy pool of water ; or 
 bounding away amid thickets of vines and fan palms ! — It touches 
 my heart, I swear, to hear the hounds baying after the graceful 
 things ! " 
 
 "What are your game laws? How do you protect game from 
 your negroes and other trespassers .'' " 
 
 " Game laws and negroes 1 Why, my lord, we have no necessity 
 for game laws. Slaves have no arms, neither do they leave their 
 quarters without passes from their masters ; and as to poachers, 
 there are none. Southerners never trespass on each other's rights ; 
 and when strangers come among us who are not in sympathy with 
 our institutions, they are ordered out of the State. — March, you 
 scoundrel, bring more wine ! " 
 
 The two greyhounds, roused by the animation of Haywood's man- 
 ner, rose from their bed of roses, and at unequal distances sleepily 
 followed his walk up and down the long floor, stopping at every 
 turn to look him in the face^ as if to question his mood, and say, 
 *' what next t " The long mirrors on the four walls of the room 
 repeated the scene, till the multiplied master and hounds appeared 
 like the gathering in court of some ancient feudal castle, prepara- 
 tory to a grand gala-hunt. 
 
 " Flash ! 7na belle ! Dash ! mo?i brave I take your rug I If the 
 race had been decided by your fleet limbs, I should have swept the 
 stakes. Rest ! " and obeying the gesture of his hand, with a whim- 
 pering cry of satisfaction, they trotted back to their couch again. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. H 
 
 Ralph walked on, repeating with an absent air, — 
 
 " My idle greyhound loathes his food, 
 My horse is weary of his stall, 
 And I am sick of captive thrall. 
 I wish I were as I have been, 
 Hunting the hart in forest green, 
 With bended bow and bloodhound free. 
 For that 's the life is meet for me." 
 
 The patches of the sunlight crept farther up the floor, and lord 
 Malvern, ready to depart, stood dallying with the fresh blossoms 
 of the " jardiniere." 
 
 " Haywood, shall you go to the French opera to night ? " 
 
 " What is the programme ? 
 
 ^^ La Dieu et la Bayadere ; then, a new star upon the boards! 
 The first dancer of the world ! — a childish creature ! — Looks 
 not more than fifteen." 
 
 " Have you seen Mademoiselle la dansueseV^ 
 
 " Twice. You would go into raptures, — figure perfectly rounded, 
 — feet and hands of delicate, artistic proportions, — fresh as an 
 apple bloom, and timid as a half-tamed gazelle." 
 
 ** What is her motion ? " 
 
 " Language fails ! She swims before you like a wreath of mist 
 ready to float away at a breath — yet so unconscious of her rare 
 powers, and with such innocent purity in every look and attitude, 
 that one grants her respect and admiration. I will drive round, 
 for the pleasure of your company." 
 
 The door again opened under the dexterous hand of March, and 
 his visitor departed. Ralph took the opposite direction to the 
 dressing room, followed at a respectful distance by the faithful ser- 
 vant who should now attend the master's caprices in that depart- 
 ment. 
 
 At five o'clock, the door of the little dining-room was grace- 
 fully opened by the same dark hand, and young Haywood passed 
 through. At table, he was unusually irritable and fastidious. 
 March, accustomed to the uneven temper of his master, served 
 him with attentive silence. The meal leisurely over, he repaired 
 to the drawing-room, and ordered the letters, which were brought 
 to him on a silver waiter. He broke the seal roughly, and in- 
 
12 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 stantly recognized the familiar chirography of his guardian uncle. 
 
 "' Ubiquc patriiDn rc7nijiisd ' is forced upon me. Here in this 
 folded paper is lex terrae, — lex taliofiis, in due form. I like the 
 latter, by Jove ! " and he made the swift motion of crushing the 
 letter. Thinking better of it, he said, "No, I'll read. Loyaiite 
 m' oblige." 
 
 The letter follows : 
 
 Pedee, S. C, N(rj. i8///, 1S3— 
 
 My Dear Ralph,— Your letter of July last was duly received. In that, you 
 give the time of the closing of the University, and coincident with that event, 
 will be the termination of your student life. 'After so many years of absence, 
 our hearts are \yaiting to welcome you to our homes and social festivities. The 
 broad lands which are your paternal estate, are awaiting their future master and 
 possessor. South Carolina, the proud State of your ancestors, claims you as 
 her son, and calls you back to your native soil for the maintenance of her honor, 
 and defense of her life against' the plotting of fanaticism, and narrow-minded 
 Northern sectionalism. 
 
 A few agitators, and incendiaries of Boston, New York and Philadelphia, 
 have recently engaged in some highly reprehensible measures. These wretches 
 speak in open derision of the principles and measures of the American Coloni- 
 zation Society. They profess to be agitated by the benign spirit of Christianity, 
 and advocate immediate emancipation, while they are fiends in disguise. They 
 have brought upon themselves the condemnation of the great mass of the sober 
 friends of gradual emancipation in those very cities, and in .the North generally. 
 We have pleasing evidence that the North as a class are with us. We are grow- 
 ing stronger on every side ; and in future years these visions of Emancipation 
 will be only myths of the past. 
 
 A convention has recently been held in Tennessee for amending their .State 
 Constitution; and one afneudment \s, a prohibition to the Legislature to abolish 
 slavery. I send you an extract from our Charleston Courier of July 21st last 
 past. That paper watches with an "Argus" eye every interest of our beloved 
 State, and therefore its opinions are considered reliable. It says "Public sen- 
 timent at the North in reference to Southern interests was never in a sounder 
 state than it is now. The language of the Northern press is cheering in the ex- 
 treme. The feeling in favor of the South and against the Abolitionists is deep 
 and almost universal." 
 
 Still, my dear fellow, as a son of the South, it is necessary you should fortify 
 yourself with a knowledge of the civil and political status of your country. I 
 will therefore state a few facts for your consideration. 
 
 Since the abolition of slavery in the Northern States, the whites have dis- 
 covered to their sorrow the innate, abject character of the African race. Their 
 social and political condition is below the level of that of the slave ; but yet 
 their nominal freedom only aggravates the condition of those in bondage 
 Among the Northern industrial classes these free negroes form the lowest stra- 
 tum, performing the most menial service, destitute of education, integrity, virtue 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. I3 
 
 and religion. They fill no seats at the free schools. They have no churches of 
 their o\\n, nor do they sit in the sanctuaries of American Christians, who draw 
 down from the Supreme Being all national blessings. Without moral charac- 
 ter, through licentiousness on their own part, and the Northern mania for amal- 
 gamation, they are fatjt degenerating into a mongrel race of mulattoes, hovering 
 between the two races, — the scum (^f both. AYith this warning before the eyes 
 of Northern statesmen and philanthropists, the wise course of the '* Colonization 
 Society " is cordially adopted, — that of freeing the counti-y of this intolerable 
 stigma by sending the free negroes out of it, and keeping the remainder of the 
 race within the wholesome restrictions of slavery. As 1 said before, these ear- 
 nest and sober-mindea men, guided by religion instead of fanaticism, are putting 
 down these new-fledged Anti-Slavery societies, deeming their action as treason 
 towards the government 
 
 On the 6th of March of this year, the "Colonization Society*' of Middletown, 
 Conn., passed this resolution : " Resolved, That in the opinion of this meeting 
 it is the duty of every philanthropist to discountenance and oppose the efforts of 
 Anti-Slavery societies." The Hon. T. Frelinghuyson of New Jer^^ey says in a 
 speech, " We owe it to ourselves not to ramain silent spectators, while this wild 
 »?r^ is running its course. We owe it to those misguided men, (the Abolition- 
 ists), to interpose and save them and their country from the fatal effects of their 
 mad speculations." In the organ of the " Colonization Society, " a friend of the 
 South writes, "Is it possible that our citizens can look quietly on, while the 
 flames of discord are rising ? while even our pulpits are sought to be used for 
 the base purjoose of encouraging scenes of bloodshed in our land.^ If we do, 
 can we look our Southern brethren in the face and say we are opposed to inter- 
 fering with their rights ? No, we cannot." 
 
 A collection of earnest men, to the number of three thousand strong, pro- 
 ceeded to vindicate the honor of the American nam.e by assaulting the residence 
 of Lewis Tappan, an accursed Abolitionist, in New York City. They attacked 
 it with bricks and stones. The doors, windows, blinds and shutters were soon 
 demolished, after"which the furniture was broken up and a bonfire made cf it in 
 the streets; a blaze which may well enlighten the understanding of Tappan and 
 his co-workers. Afterwards they proceeded to the churches, dwellings and 
 school-honses of the city negroes, demolishing them with commenabie zeal, thus 
 affording a just rebuke to these nascent disturbers of the country's peace. 
 
 There, my nephew are the favorable signs of the times; and although this 
 new race of Abolitionists possesses neither rank nor fame, still, like the insignifi- 
 cant worms which slowly eat out the strength of many a noble hull, if left to 
 their insidious workings, these vermicular souls may work leakage and danger 
 to our ship of State, till its now harmonious and beauiiful proportions topple 
 over, forever. One contemptible fellow, called Garrison, leads off this rebel 
 crew in Boston. Let him once come to Charleston. The gleam of a thousand 
 bowie-knives would light his way to Hades ! Georgia has already set a price 
 upon his head. Garrison will i{ever set his foot upon the shores of 
 Carolina. 
 
 I will mention another movement auspicious to Southern interests. The 
 State of Louisiana, owing to the extension of sugar cultivation, and a demand 
 for more labor, has repealed the law prohibiting the importation of slaves from 
 
14 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Other State?^. She is now importing multitudes from Maryland and Virginia. 
 Soon after the repeal of the law, two thousand were offered for sale in New 
 Orleans in one single w^eek. These border States, overstocked with a surplus 
 of necrroes, will now find in their ex])ortation a source (jf revenue which will 
 place them in a condition of the highest pros])erity. Spite of the declarations 
 of Jefferson, of the emancipation sentiments of Patrick Henry, and of John Ran- 
 dolph's assertion that Virginia is impoverished by slavery, these states, with 
 th.is new outlet, will suddenly rise to new wealth and power. You will also be 
 pleased to know that Georgia has lost no jot or tittle of the high-toned self-re- 
 spect which marks her record in the past. The Aiizusta Chronicle says, " We 
 firmlv believe that if the Southern States do not quickly unite and declare to the 
 North, if the question of Slavery he longer discussed in any shape, they will in- 
 stantly secede from the Union. That the question must be settled, and very 
 soon, by the sword, as the only possible means of self-preservation." 
 
 So furbish up your arms, my boy. They may yet glitter valiantly on the field 
 
 of battle. 
 
 Now, Ralph, as I have not time to remark further on the policy of American 
 affairs, a slight allusion to another subject may be no less important, and per- 
 chance agreeable. Your early friend and playmate, Grace Mowndes, has bud- 
 ded into charming girlhood ; and when your name is mentioned the most delicate 
 rose-tint imaginable springs to her cheek, telling all too plainly the sweet secret 
 of her heart. Surrounded by admirers, she turns from them all indifferently. 
 No one has gained the light of her eye or the truth of her smile. Your white 
 rose is drooping. Come home, my boy. Transplant it to the fair halls and 
 love bowers of " Vaucluse." to be your joy forever. Aside from this vie\v of the 
 matter, Grace's marriage dower added to your estate would give you a princely 
 income, and raise you above all future anxieties and misfortunes. 
 
 This is a long letter, sir. — but comfort yourself that no reply is demanded — 
 only your presence as soon as your affairs in Paris can be brought to an honor- 
 able 'close. You should receive per this mail a letter from your bankers, 
 Messrs. Kershaw & Lewis, forwarding your quarterly remittance, with a sketch 
 of the present condition of your crops, lands and incomes. \Vishing you a pros- 
 perous vovage, I am, as ever, Your affectionate uncle, 
 
 Edward La Bruce. 
 
 Ralph still held the open letter. "There ! " he exclaimed, with 
 a gathered frown, " I've waded through that damned labyrinth of 
 politics, slavery, emancipation, rose-colored lilies and domestic re- 
 sponsibilities, neck-deep ! " 
 
 His head sank back on the easy headpiece of the fauteuil in 
 which he sat ; his boots still rested on a chair opposite, indenting 
 the satin seat, gay with \\o\tn Jlau's de lis. His hand fell by his 
 side, still grasping the hated document which would transform 
 him from the man of leisure to a plotting, scheming landholder, 
 on the secluded banks of the Pedee. 
 
 A graver look than was his wont, settled upon his features ; his 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. IS 
 
 dark eyes peered fixedly forward into a future so wonderfully 
 mapped out on that single sheet of paper. Thought flew over the 
 water. He stood on the verandah of his childhood. The stately 
 rustle of glossy magnolia leaves fell on his ear. The long rows 
 of negro quarters peeped through distant corn; he listened to 
 the rich, sweet swells of wild melodies from voices that came 
 nearer, and then died away in the woodlands. He hears the busy 
 working of the rice-mill, and sees the snowy heaps of clean grains 
 in the storehouses. Hounds bay among the oaks, and his father's 
 light drafted sloop lies by the river pier, while stout black figures, 
 clad in homespun, roll heavy tierces aboard. 
 
 He stood in his mother's room — but he stood alone. Father 
 and mother were gone. A subdued expression softened his face 
 as he thonght of the exchange they had made for this luxurious 
 home. No voice welcomed him but the low, obsequious tones of 
 those who obeyed his commands. No tender pleading persuaded 
 him to stay; but the silent language of unshorn hedges, straggling 
 vines, and' dilapidated bowers implored him to return. 
 
 The wild rover was beginning to feel a reviving fondness for the 
 old place, when the sharp bark of ' Flash ' fell across those soft 
 memories with such a stinging power, that sense and irritation re- 
 turned. His feet dropped to the floor, and the dreamer stood 
 again among the bewildering reflections of the chandeliers and 
 mirrors of his foreign drawing-room. 
 ' Lord Malvern also stood before him, fresh from his ev»ening 
 toilet, a la theatre, saying in finest humor, — 
 
 "Ready, Haywood? Void I des letres I — tme autre charmante 
 
 divmite ? " 
 
 '' Divinite!'' growled Ralph. '•' C est bien! but wife ! — the su- 
 perlative of divinite is damnable ! — Je pejise, to be the responsible 
 companion of trunks, bandboxes, 'fuss and feathers!' — to be a 
 compulsory actor in the scenes of married life!— My soul revolts I 
 Women a la theatre — au salon — a V opera I Dryads, Nymphs, Ne- 
 reids for me ! — More aggravating still, I am called home from this 
 festive, fascinating France, to become a pillar of South Caro- 
 lina ? " 
 
 „With Slavery and State Rights for your pedestal," rejomed his 
 companion, "and with your liberal foreign culture for the Cor- 
 
1 6 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 inthian Capital, I suppose. — But really, Playwood, you chafe like 
 a war-horse ! Examine the other letter — that may prove an anti- 
 dote for the first." 
 
 Ralph had received too many remittances not to recognize the 
 superscription of his bankers and factors. He was secretly glad to 
 show that an American aristocrat, with his toiling slaves, could ex- 
 hibit an income approaching that of a titled Englishman with his 
 hereditary domains. He broke the seal and read aloud : 
 
 Charleston, S. C, Nov. 2, 183 — 
 
 Ralph Haywood — Sir, — Enclosed, you will find bill of exchange for your 
 last remittance of five thousand dollars, for the current year, as desired. Also, 
 a hasty sketch of your income and its sources, as follows : 
 
 From dividends and interest on bank shares, . . . $10,000 86 
 Amount collected from bonds, ........ 3,942 30 
 
 Amount of negro wages, i>o59 7° 
 
 Lease of " Rose Hill " plantation and negroes 4,000 00 
 
 Lease of "Honey Horn" plantation and negroes, . . 3,500 00 
 
 Net proceeds of 500 whole and 300 half tierces rice, . , 16,112 00 
 
 38,614 86 
 Deduct plantation expenses, • 8,612 86 
 
 30,002 00 
 Your most obed't servants, 
 
 Kershaw & Lewis. 
 
 P. S. The pussilanimous monarch, William Fourth, on the first of August, 
 set free every slave in the British West Indies. Return to lend the fire of your 
 patriotism in defence of this same institution, which shall yet make our Repub- 
 lic the glory of the world. 
 
 The indignant blood of Lord George mounted to his brow at 
 this unworthy thrust at his king : but with the cool air of good 
 breeding, he simply remarked, — 
 
 "Take this last letter as an antidote to th^ other, my friend; 
 the horses are waiting." 
 
 March stood by, with Ralph's hat and cloak, silently awaiting his 
 pleasure. The two passed out, the prancing of hoofs was heard, 
 and the carriage rolled away. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 17 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 MASSACHUSETTS, forty years ago, kept her Sabbaths. 
 They were holy days ; seemingly let down from celestial 
 airs at stated septennial periods, and again drawn upward from 
 the old Commonwealth, at the approach of the first hours of the 
 sinful, earthly week. Closed library doors grimly stood guard over 
 their coveted treasures. Flowers bloomed without admirers. It 
 was the privilege of believers to shut their ears to caroling birds, 
 and sighing breezes, and to listen only to the droppings of the 
 Sanctuary. None but church-going wheels traversed the- highways, 
 and the few pedestrians walked with sanctified air. 
 
 The village of Alderbank lay dreaming in this same Sabbath 
 stupor. Its beautiful river babbled over its rocky bed, to deep, 
 still coves beyond. There it rested, and fancifully dressed itself 
 in the semblance of the steep wooded shore ; borrowing sprays of 
 hemlock, aspen and chestnut to wear on its sheeny bosom. 
 
 The dwellers at Alderbank might listen in vain, for other hymn 
 of praise, than that singing river ; they might look in vain, for other 
 brocade richer than its coves ; for, no church laid its foundations 
 there — no spire rose through its unhallowed atmosphere. Ava- 
 rice had its shrine there, and its sordid devotees. 
 
 The very river was made to weave its bales of cotton on other 
 days. These days had their bells whose noisy swinging called alike 
 its waters and its workers from sleep, before the birds began 
 their merry songs, and dismissed them not, till darknesss. To day, 
 this Sabbath day, these noisy mammon bells dreamed also. 
 
 In this seemingly Godless hamlet, one small shrine, at least, wel- 
 comed the presence of the Divine Father. That shrine was the 
 childish heart of Fanny Beame. Her worship was the happy re- 
 cognition of God, in all His works. Her most acceptable song of 
 praise was the love she bore to every insect, tree and flower, to the 
 drifting clouds, the sky, and the silver streams. With a wonderful 
 bewilderment of gladness she learned His loving-kindness, and the 
 strange glory of His beneficence, that crowned the natural sur- 
 
l8 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 roundings within her own narrow horizon. The breezy forest, the 
 blue outline of distant hills, the gleaming shivers of sunlight,, frac- 
 tured to golden, purple and emerald atoms, in passing through a 
 dciwdrop, carried her thoughts into His presence, and fixed her 
 faith in the more mysterious working of His plans, where the phy- 
 sical eye cannot follow. 
 
 Yet, Fanny Beame, in her innocence and simplicity, knew not 
 that this was adoration of the Creator. She knew that outside of 
 Alderbank, the gospel was preached with prescribed forms of wor- 
 ship, of which she had little understanding. She had read a few 
 stray Sunday-School books, incidentally fallen in her way, of chil- 
 dren, seven, ten, or twelve years of age, who had struggled fiercely 
 with sin, and had wrestled daily with God, for justification in His 
 sight. This, the trusting mind of Fanny received as normal truth, 
 which added to an over-modest estimate of herself, seemed to de- 
 mand an earnest struggle in her case, to make her "calling and 
 election sure." 
 
 She had also read in " Pilgrim's Progress," of the load which 
 " Christian " carried ; and, through her very goodness and sim- 
 plicity, concluded that her own shoulders should bear a similar 
 burden. Then there was a " Slough of Despond," through which 
 her feet must pass, awear)^ ! Thus was she to set her busy self in 
 following closely all those forms and paths laid out by Bunyan and 
 all holy Christians, since his day. Thus would she find the favor 
 of that Being whose beauty and glory she already, though uncon- 
 sciously, adored. 
 
 These thoughts and inferences were quietly revolved in her pri- 
 vate hours of meditation. The pale, dead saints of the past were 
 sacredly set up within the radiant cloisters of her inner soul, over- 
 hung with memories of earliest spring blossoms, and shaded by 
 sprays of autumn leaves, glowing with God's love. There, her 
 false idols stood, in gloomy silence, amid a glorious Te Deum of 
 bird-carols, brook-whispers, wind-voices, cloud-tones and insect- 
 trills. To day, therefore, on this Alderbank Sabbath, she would 
 begin to serve God. 
 
 Already she had shut herself in a lonely closet, and read several 
 hymns. She had prayed after the manner of those excellent chil- 
 dren whose lives so far excelled hers. She had borne a burden of 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 1 9 
 
 depravity to the foot of the Cross, and, as usual, looked in vain for a 
 great and sudden light which should be the token of her acceptance 
 into the favor of Him she loved so well. Before leaving the closet, 
 she lifted one corner of the faded curtain, and looked out upon fields 
 gilded by the morning sun. The old happiness in the contempla- 
 tion of nature, carried her rapt vision to the blue hills beyond. 
 Then indeed, a "great light" beamed on her face, and flooded her 
 eyes! Dropping the curtain, she reflected upon the darkness 
 within, and the brightness without. Surely, she thought, the cause 
 was her own " unbelief." Well, she would ally herself with God's 
 people. Where they went, she would go. Where they sought bless- 
 ings, she would join her petition. 
 
 Therefore, Fanny resolved to ask permission of her mother to 
 walk over to the little brown school-house at the cross-roads, to 
 " meeting." The day was dull and misty, portending rain ; but 
 while the other members of the family were absent, while Mrs. 
 Bearoe was cooking breakfast, and while Fanny was setting the 
 table, she said with a gentle voice, — 
 
 " Mother, may I go down to the * Four Corners,' to-day ? " 
 " Do you want to walk two miles and back, in the rain ? " 
 " I thought it might clear up," Fanny meekly replied, '' but we 
 should worship God, if it does rain." 
 
 " It would be imprudent to allow you to go down there and en- 
 danger your life, to hear those young upstarts preach the duty of 
 other people, when they don't know their own. You are growing 
 more and more foolish every week, Fanny, instead of more sen- 
 sible." 
 
 Fanny went on laying the table, with temper unruffled ; cups and 
 "tumblers" slid into their places, as quietly as before. No reply 
 fell from her pleasant lips. During the past year, the Testament 
 had been her daily study ; she understood its plain, common- 
 sense, work-day truths, and treasured them in memory, unemcum- 
 bered by sophisms or expediencies ; applying them to all times 
 and seasons, as her judgment dictated. 
 
 Now, while her feet went to and fro between pantry and kitchen, 
 she was repeating, — 
 
 "Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right." 
 Breakfast was over. Nothing cast a shadow over the moving 
 
20 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 hours but the thoughtful face of that mother. She was asking her- 
 self, — 
 
 *' Was she cruel to her only child whom she loved so ten- 
 derly.? Why must Fanny, so quiet, so obedient, so satisfied with 
 all other restrictions, why must she be so persistently obstinate in 
 these religious vagaries ?" She, herself, thought there were few 
 Christians. Had she not suffered mostly from that class who were 
 styled "followers of the Lamb?" Had not their slanders and false 
 accusations made her as an outcast amidst her own friends, and 
 meted out to her a future state of misery among unbelievers ? — She 
 had resisted, and would still resist such pharasaical pretensions to 
 being " the children of God." She was not an infidel ! She believed 
 in Christ, but in a more loving Savior than the Orthodox pattern. 
 She believed in her Lord as he was — going about with soiled <]jar- 
 ments and dusty sandals ; healing the sick ; giving eyes to the blind : 
 drinking water at the wayside wells ; and selecting fishermen for 
 His disciples. She did not believe in Him seated in state, in 
 costly temples, pleased with the mocking worship of those who fol- 
 lowed not one of His steps. Doubtless they were rejoicing over 
 her own daughter, as a proselyte to that same false faith. She 
 trusted that in her future life, Fanny would see with clearer eyes, 
 distinguishing good from evil. 
 
 It was ten o'clock. Fanny had nearly finished the dishes at the 
 sink, when her mother came past and said, — 
 
 " If you will wear my red shawl and green calash, and take an 
 umbrella, you may go to ' meeting.' Do you want to go ? You 
 will be late." 
 
 " Yes ; I can be ready very soon, and walk fast, you know. Bet- 
 ter late, than never 1 " 
 
 In a few moments the tall green calash was flying about the 
 room on Fanny's head, while she was in search of her hymn-book. 
 It rose high above the smooth brown hair ; and by frequent pranks 
 of falling back, and shutting up like a chaise top, it was seemingly 
 unconscious of its solemn errand. However, by means of its long 
 green taste bridle, now firmly held in hand, it was restored to 
 a more becoming behavior. The large umbrella being held se- 
 curely by the other hand, a soft " Good-bye, mother," called the 
 attention of Mrs. Beame j and as the grotesque costume went down 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 21 
 
 the Steps, she laughed in spite of herself, but ended the matter 
 by sayino^, "Good enough for such an expedition." 
 
 The raindrops stayed their purpose, while the little feet pattered 
 onward. The red shawl was drawn up into smaller proportions, 
 and the green calash was bridled into a more reverential form, as 
 Fanny arrived at the school-house door. 
 
 "Meeting" had commenced. The house was filled, but room 
 was made for the little Pilgrim on one of the high desks against 
 the wall. The preacher was standing with right arm extended, 
 over which hung the graceful folds of a heavy cloak, in most classi- 
 cal styl^. And why not? Had he not the best Roman and Greek 
 authority of " Dogmah Academy," a few miles away, from which he 
 had that morning emanated on a mission to this benighted people ? 
 In years, he seemed to be eighteen or twenty \ while in piety, pre- 
 cocity and martyr-spirit he almost put to the blush, the old proph- 
 ets. His figures and tropes excelled those of Ezekiel. There were 
 wheels within wheels, with such an elaborate phantasmagoria of 
 incident and scenery, as struck awe into the minds of those untu- 
 tutored youths, and sleepy, brown old farmers. 
 
 Poor Fanny began to think the heavenly way more difficult even, 
 than she had supposed. Hope almost died within her, till from 
 all that logic and learning broke forth this sentence, " Can you 
 expect, my hearers, to be carried to the skies on flowery beds of 
 ease?" Hope revived. Seizing upon that idea with her quick 
 imagination and lively perception of the beauty of a "flowery bed," 
 she arrived at the comfortable conclusion that she might be in the 
 right path, as of course, nobody like her, with a green calash, a red 
 shawl, and a large umbrella, could be sailing skyward on flowers. 
 That hereafter she should always so dress that her presence would 
 not be tolerated on any "flowery bed of ease." So much had she 
 learned of her future duty. 
 
 The exercises were closed by the preacher's colleague, a pale, 
 sickly looking youth, but with infinite strength of lungs, whose 
 voice reverberated against the school house ceiling, as if the king- 
 dom of Heaven were indeed suffering violence. He at last an- 
 nounced that the " weekly Class " would remain after the audience 
 had retired. 
 
 Here was to be a new trial of Fanny's steadfastness. To "speak 
 
2 2 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 in meeting" was a great cross to her timidity, but she had heard, 
 that to win Christ, that cross must be borne. She came off con- 
 queror. She would not be ashamed to "confess religion." She 
 would remain and speak. 
 
 Brother Hardstone was class-leader (a man who made his home 
 so bitter, that wife and children were robbed of all peace). Rub- 
 bing his hands with zealous fervor, he began singing, — 
 
 " Blow ye the trumpet, blow, 
 
 The gladly solemn sound ! 
 Let all the nations know. 
 
 To earth's remotest bound : 
 The year of jubilee is come; 
 Return, ye ransomed sinners, home." 
 
 When some had arisen and testified to their prevailing hours of 
 darkness and dejection, during the past week, and to the soul-tr)'- 
 ing temptations that had beset their path, and when others had 
 acknowledged the goodness of God in gratifying some peculiar 
 request which had been long delayed, Fanny rose tremblingly, 
 and with downcast eyes, said, — 
 
 " I am not ashamed to confess Christ. I desire to serve Him 
 all my life, and I desire that you will all pray for me, that I may 
 prove faithful to the end." 
 
 The usual ejaculations of " Bless God ! " and "Amen ! " having 
 died away, her really heaviest cross was to sit passively and hear 
 the remarks of " Father Hardstone," a leader in whom she had no 
 confidence, and whose abused daughters were her especial friends. 
 But in his usual coarse manner he brayed forth, — 
 
 " Keep on, sister. You'll win the golden crown ; " and then 
 passed on to another. 
 
 " I have no need of a golden crown," thought Fanny. " I only 
 want to serve my Master, here." 
 
 After a few other " experiences " and uproarious exhortations, the 
 "class" separated. Fanny's ideas of Christian propriety were 
 somewhat shaken, in passing through a knot of men outside, and 
 catching their conversation. 
 
 With the air and tone of satisfaction one feels when an unpleas- 
 ant task is completed. Father Bradley remarked, — 
 
 " Fine pfospect of rain, Brother Hardstone." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 2$ 
 
 " Hope we shall get some," he replied. " Terrible drought. — I'm 
 afeard the corn crop '11 be a failure. — My pertatur hills ur ez dry 
 ez 'n ash heap." 
 
 " Yes, yes," chimed in Brother Brown, lugubriously. " It's a 
 pretty poor look for we farmers, when everything's a dryin' up." 
 
 Little Pilgrim hoped to be invited to ride home in some of the 
 rattling wagons, as the clouds looked more lowery, but the dusty 
 work-horses trotted past, shaking their heavy harness, unconscious 
 of any small "class-member" by the wayside. The great flapping 
 blinders prevented a side view, and the pleasant perspective of 
 even a very scant share of Sabbath rest for themselves, urged the 
 tired animals homeward. Fanny walked on, casting loving glances 
 at the mayweed and rabbits-foot thronging the narrow way, and 
 meditating upon the conversation of those farmers at the door. 
 
 '' Why did they fear the corn crop might fail? Why not trust in 
 God, as they exhorted us all, to-day ? How shall we trust him at 
 all, if we do not believe He will do for us what we cannot do for 
 ourselves.'' We cannot make one corn blade grow, but He can, and 
 I am sure He will." 
 
 Just then she reached a corn field. While listening to its musi- 
 cal rustle, and watching the nodding tassels over the zig-zag rails, 
 a heavy step came up after her and chiming in with hers. She 
 skilfully turned the green calash, and exclaimed,- — 
 
 " Why, Henry ! is that you .? " 
 
 "Yes, Fanny. But I'm afraid you won't think so well of me for 
 having this basket of blackberries, to day." 
 
 "Well, I'm nobody, Henry, to think well or ill of 3^ou." 
 
 "You are somebody to me and my Sue. You are the only real 
 friend my children have." 
 
 " Well, I meant to say there is one Lord over all. He sees things 
 in a different light from what men and v/omen do. He might not 
 think it so wrong that you should get some of His blackberries for 
 your supper, as people would." 
 
 "Yes, Fann}', I know. I hope He is different from white folks 
 in New England. If not, I can't tell why I was made, or any of 
 my race." 
 
 "Why don't you go to meeting, Henry? Perhaps you would be 
 happier, then." 
 
24 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "There's three reasons why, and good ones too; but you must 
 not ask me now, for I am afraid its going to rain." 
 
 " No, it has not rained yet, and I don't believe it will. If it 
 does, here is my umbrella, and you may have half. Walk slow, and 
 tell me those reasons. I want to know. We are commanded to 
 * bear each other's burdens,' so let me bear part of yours." 
 
 "Burdens!" echoed Henry. "You want to help me carry this 
 basket of blackberries ? Me, a great stout man, and you no bigger 
 than a sparrow. When it comes to that, or rains either, I guess 
 you'll be 7>iy burden, and I'd tote you to your own mother's door 
 and set you down on her steps, as dry as a pin. You're the won- 
 derfullest girl I ever see. You make me laugh, if 't is Sunday, and 
 if my blood is all in a boil thinkin' about ' meetins',' Christians and 
 folks." 
 
 Fanny perceived her remark was misunderstood, but from an 
 innate tenderness for another's feelings, forbore further explana- 
 tion ; so she said, — 
 
 " 1 understand. You shall carry the blackberries, and me, too, 
 if necessary ; but do, Henry, tell me those reasons. Why do you 
 not go to * meeting ?' " 
 
 "Because I am black — because we are 'niggers;' and those 
 Yankee Christians are worse than Christians that hold slaves ; for 
 I am told that down South the black people go to the same church 
 with their masters, and have the whole gallery, to sit in. Susan 
 and I went once to the Presbyterian church up town, because we 
 thought our stayin' away from meetin' might be our own fault, after 
 all. The people were handsomely dressed, and stood all about on 
 the green before the ' meetin'-house.' There was Deacon Pierson, 
 Farmer Fairly, and Farmer Ilarker, the man I had worked for and 
 Susan had washed for. They didn't speak to us, and their chil- 
 dren just stood and laughed at us, as we walked across the green. 
 At the door, a man told us to sit in a little pew under the stairs. 
 Nobody set near us, but they kept turnin' their heads and smilin' 
 durin' preachin'. When we came out they still kept laughin', and 
 I heard ' them ni":£:ers, — them nigs^ers,' whispered all around. No- 
 
 f 11111 
 
 body spoke to us, but when we got home, we both held up our 
 hands and vowed we'd never go agin — we would go to destruction 
 
WAITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 2$ 
 
 first. They say there is such a place, and it's no worse for us to 
 choose to go there, than it is for them to send us." 
 
 "Did you say Deacon Pierson and Farmer Flarker, Henry? 
 Why, they are missionary men. They collect money to send mis- 
 sionaries to foreign lands, to the heathen." 
 
 "Yes, I said them. Horse jockies and rum sellers treat me bet- 
 ter than Christians and respectable people. Yes, I know they are 
 missionary men ; for when I worked for them in hay time, for eight 
 dollars a month, and my children were both sick, they tried to keep 
 back part of my wages, as they said, ' to send the Bible to the 
 heathen.' But I had heathen enough in my own house; and be- 
 sides, they gave me just half the wages they paid the white hired 
 man, and I eat in the wood-shed at that." 
 
 "Well, Henry, I will give Susan my Bible. You can find what 
 the Savior says. It will be a comfort to you." 
 
 " Why, bless you, child ! neither Susan nor I can read a word. 
 There is no Bible nor Heaven for us colored." 
 
 " I thought that minister, Rev. Mr. Pratt, in Connecticut, brought 
 
 you up." 
 
 " He did bring me up, and that was all. He sent me to school 
 two days, but the children hooted at me so, I couldn't stand it. 
 The teacher sent word to Mr. Pratt that she wished I might stay 
 away, I made so much trouble. Then he said he thought black 
 and white ought not to go to the same school, and he believed 
 there was a law against it. He was busy all day writing sermons 
 and making calls ; so I did all the plowing, gardening, and every 
 other kind of work, and there was no time for learning, anyhow." 
 
 " It seems too much to believe," replied Fanny. " If there was 
 a church in Alderbank, you should sit in our pew, and if they made 
 sport of you and Susan, they should make sport of us, too." 
 
 " And so they would. If we set with you in church, you would 
 be hated — you would be called ' nigger' as well as we." 
 
 "That would not harm us," said Fanny, bravely. "But, Henry, 
 what makes you live in that poor shanty down by the brook? I'd 
 save my money and buy a nice little land and house, and show the 
 town that I had the same rights as they." 
 
 "I'll tell you why. In the first place we have to work for halt 
 wages. Then we take our pay in provisions and old clothes worth 
 
26 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 not more than half what they charge. Then if we had money, no- 
 body would sell us a pleasant or rich spot of land. We may put 
 up a shanty in the backwoods, or down by some marsh, or on the 
 side of some sand-hill, and that's all the foothold on God's earth we 
 can get. There! " said he, turning to look at the sad, thoughtful 
 face beside him, " don't ask me any more questions, Fanny. You 
 won't believe me. I am sorry I overtook you. It makes me feel 
 wicked to think of these things, but I have said nothing but the 
 solemn truth, before God!^^ 
 
 Henry, in his earnestness, had stopped before her. To that 
 Being who alone had any mercy in store for him, he raised his 
 ragged right arm and helpless black hand, and slowly repeated, — 
 
 " Before God and His throfie ! " 
 
 Fanny halted also. Fler white, awe-struck face turned upward, 
 while that oath was being registered in the book of the Terrible 
 Avenger. 
 
 Henry Hughes' arm dropped. The martyr-like heroism passed 
 away from his ebon features. 
 
 "We are near Alderbank now," he said. " I must go." 
 
 " Let me go with 3'ou," said Fanny. 
 
 " No, dear child, you shall not be cursed for my sake. Good- 
 bye." 
 
 Missteps glided on, but a voice floated after him, "Give my 
 love to Susan." 
 
 It reached his poor heart as a sunbeam strays through a stony 
 casement and cheers the cold floor of a prison. A quick turn of 
 the head, with a friendly wave of that accusing hand, and Henry 
 was out of sight. 
 
 Fanny moved on slowly, occupied with those burning words, so 
 unexpectedly dropped into her soul, along the lonely wayside. Out 
 of the chaos of that day's events and conflicting teachings she en- 
 deavored to bring order. How could she account for it that the 
 very persons to whom she looked as models, did such strange 
 things? The anguish of Henry's face haunted her, — the hand 
 raised to Heaven, and the solemn words, " Before God." 
 
 She descended from her spiritual hallucinations to life's real, 
 earnest joys and sorrows. There was something to do now, besides 
 speculating on the probable use of a "flowery bed of ease," and 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. Tf 
 
 how one should resist that tempting vehicle to the skies. The red 
 shawl had fallen from her shoulders, and the heavy fringe swept 
 over feathery grasses ; the green calash seized upon this opportu- 
 nity of Fanny's abstraction, and taking to its pranks again fell over 
 backwards, and shut up as usual. Still Fanny went on thinking. 
 One conclusion was reached, — she would love Henry, Susan, and 
 the children, and all other black people, if ever she found any. 
 The trembling lips were defiantly compressed, the drooping lashes 
 were wet with tears which dropped upon her burning cheeks and 
 upon her tightly clasped hymn-book. 
 
 At that moment a white cloud, rifted from the dark masses in 
 the west, floated over the blue depths and dropped a benison on 
 the bare auburn head. The cloud passed on, and Fanny Beame 
 was indeed baptized of the angels. 
 
 Ah ! little did that child imagine while in the brown school- 
 house, and while so timidly saying, " I am not ashamed to confess 
 Christ; I desire to serve him all my life," that she would so soon 
 be taken at her word. Little thought she, when the farmer's horses 
 trotted so indifferently past, that Christ would walk by her side 
 and talk with her by the way. She knew it not, even now. That 
 delightful surprise was left for the maturity and development of 
 coming years. The far future was to unfold to her astonished 
 memory the honor and glory of that hour, when her Savior walked 
 with her in the guise of the poor and despised Henry Hughes, and 
 she had given him all she had to offer — her love and her tears. 
 
 Wet with the holy sacrament of the cloud, Fanny was gathering 
 up her garments to walk faster, when a voice from a top rail of the 
 fence called out, — 
 
 "O Fanny Beame 1 I see you, I see you! You've been walk- 
 ing with a nigger, and going slow, and talking to him ! " 
 
 This was the son of the agent of the factory in Alderbank ; and 
 Fanny answered, — 
 
 "No, Johnny, I have been walking with a man, with my friend." 
 
 "Oh ! for shame, Fanny Beame 1 A nigger ain't a man, and if 
 he is your friend you won't make a very respectable woman. He's 
 a Sabbath-breaker, too, and a thief, for he had a basket of black- 
 berries." 
 
 " Yes, he had berries ; but they grow for anybody who chooses 
 
28 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 to pick them, and Henry is poor. He has no land noi orchards, 
 no apple or peach trees, and he wants so?nct/iing good. Where 
 have you been, Johnny?" 
 
 " I've been digging ' saxafax ' root down here in the woods, and 
 I'd give you some if you didn't go with niggers." 
 
 " Oh ! I don't care for any," replied Fanny. " But which is the 
 worst, to pick blackberries or to dig sassafras root on Sunday ?" 
 
 " To pick berries, of course ! But I dig 'saxafax' on father's 
 own land. ' Hen ' Hughes might have land if he'd work for it. 
 Father says all these free niggers in Massachusstis are lazy, and 
 ought to be down South hoeing cotton, then they'd do some good, 
 and we shouldn't have so many black 'shacks ' round here. And 
 I guess he knows — he's been there." 
 
 " Well, I never was ///tvr," was the indignant reply j " it is bad 
 enough to be /icre" 
 
 Fanny walked on. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 PARIS w^as sleeping. The slant rays of a golden morning 
 found no access through hangings of velvet and brocade. 
 Blank midnight surrounded the luxurious couches of the revel- 
 lers. High-born or parvenu, the gay devotees of pleasure, wearied 
 with balls, games and play, were appropriating these fresh matin 
 hours to the renewal of necessary vigor for repeated scenes of 
 nightly festivities. Delicious south winds blew through magnifi- 
 cent avenues, — birds were gay aud noisy in their undisturbed war- 
 blings, — trees seemed wading in a gilded mist. The clumsy and 
 quaint architecture of palaces ,churches, bridges and towers, took 
 a definite and airy tracery from the flooding of mellow sunshine. 
 Statues, flowers and fountains gleamed from fairy vistas on every 
 side of the fantastic city. Gold fishes sported in'a thousand mar- 
 ble basins, or followed the wake of white swans in their dreamy 
 rounds. — yet scarce a footfall was heard in garden, on terrace or 
 esplanade. 
 
 Contrary to his usual custom, Ralph was dressed at this hour, 
 striding about his apartments, and making sundry hurried prepa- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 29 
 
 rations. March was busy obeying orders in all directions ; but 
 upon either face hovered a sombre shadow, the sure reflection of 
 gloomy thoughts. 
 
 At nine o'clock, Ralph, wrapped in his long Spanish cloak, was 
 thriddincy his wav on horseback over the deserted road of the "Bois 
 de Boulogne," followed by a half dozen other horsemen. Noth- 
 ing disturbed his mood of silence but champing bits, the muffled 
 plunging of hoofs in the soft earth, and the annoying shafts of 
 yellow sunlight which shot across his way between the shining boles, 
 as if to search the secret of his melancholy. At length, the wood 
 was passed ; striking into a gallop, a few miles brought the party 
 to a smooth lawn, by a secluded stream. A similar party was al- 
 ready in waiting. Grooms led away the horses into checkered 
 shade. The parties exchanged salutations. Both then proceeded 
 to arrange the preliminaries of that bloody Code which the reckless 
 duelist calls "honor," and in which Haywood and a German class- 
 njate were principals. 
 
 This was the last day of Ralph's stay in Paris ; this act was the 
 performance of his last honorable obligation. 
 
 Frederick Steinle had spoken unguardedly of the Southern institu- 
 tion of Slavery. He had taunted America's Flag as a pharisaica^ 
 emblem. He had said the American Eagle fattened on helpless 
 victims of the slave-holder's avarice and cruelty; that he whetted his 
 beak on the poor African's bleaching bones, from the Chesapeake 
 to the Rio Grande ! 
 
 For this, the speedy bullet was to be his judge and jury this day. 
 Frederick Steinle was no coward ; yet, as the personal friend of 
 Haywood, he had striven to avoid this collision. Further, he con- 
 sidered himself under no obligation to a foreign Constitution, which 
 shielded the enslaver, and his deeds. He refused to retract his 
 words, and thus prove himself a fawning dissembler. 
 
 For this, he had been bullied by daily threats of assassination, 
 by insults in public places, and repeated challenges ; till without 
 other alternative, assent was given. He met his antagonist for the 
 deadly rencontre^ more in sorrow than in anger. His finely propor- 
 tioned figure, full six feet in height, his silken hair and curly brown 
 mustache, combined with a ruddy tint of health, contrasted favor- 
 ably with the malignant, lowering brow of the South Carolinian. 
 
30 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Paces were measured — the seconds were at their posts. The 
 word was given to fire. Steinle's pistol discharged in air ; but he, 
 the truthful and brave, reeled, and fell dying to the grecn-sward. 
 Those 'gathering about him, caught his last words. "Farewell, 
 mother ! " whispered from his pallid lips. 
 
 Haywood cooly mounted, and rode away, seemingly a Knight of 
 the Middle Ages. This child of Protestantim, and citizen of a Dem- 
 ocratic Republic, drawing his cloak about him, left his dying friend 
 like a barbaric cavalier. Had he not been dubbed a son of Chiv- 
 alry, by his "companions in arms" on the "sacred soil of South 
 Carolina ? " Had they not thrown over him the " Red Garment," 
 which was to mark his resolution to shed his blood in the cause of 
 Heaven ? " Had he not displayed the requisite keen sense of honor 
 in his ruthless intolerance of this infidel and heretic? Had he not 
 shown fidelity to his obligations, in all the strictness of the letter, 
 disdaining compromise with friendship and circumstances ? 
 
 The strongest tie of the chivalry of Slavery, — , 
 
 "Brother be now true to me, 
 And I shall be as true to thee," 
 
 was a sacred principle ; had it not claimed, and recieved the exer- 
 cise of his valor ? 
 
 Frederick's faintly throbbing breast was bared. It was past 
 medical skill to call back that life. From the ragged wound ebbed 
 the last crimson remnant of vitality, and the blood of another 
 martyr to the American Inquisition, stained the velvet sod of 
 France. 
 
 According to his directions previously given, the attendants drew 
 from his pocket a letter superscribed with his name, a few damp 
 curls were cut from his hair and enclosed within it, to be returned 
 to the mother who sent it. Above the beautiful white face, manly 
 eyes grew moist while reading, — 
 
 Mein liebling Frederick, mein schoner Sohn, — From the tenor of your 
 last letter, it is the happy time for your return to that home which awaits the 
 joy of your presence. My heart faints to see the long absent face. Come to 
 your mountains, valleys and vine-gardens. Let them echo again to your voice 
 in the old-time songs of Fatherland. We need your strength and care to take 
 the place of your dead father, etc., etc. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 3 1 
 
 Day wore away, this last day oE Haywood's untramelled life 
 "abroad." Packages of costly bijouterie, and elegant fabrics; 
 masterpieces from the artist's pencil, aud sculptor's chisel, had been 
 purchased, and lay strewn about the unpacked trunks. The familiar 
 squares of sunlight crept steadily along the polished floor, fast losing 
 rio-ht-angular proportions. The 'Knight of the Middle Ages '^was 
 tardily yielding to the half enlightened conscience of the Nine- 
 teenth century. The morning shadow on his face sank into his soul. 
 Thoughts of another's trunks which should have been filled with 
 precious mementos on that eventful day, but which now awaited 
 the careless and sacrilegious hand of strangers, filled his mind. 
 
 Callous as were his feelings, from having been raised among 
 scenes of brutality and outrage, and faintly as glowed the native 
 liaht of conscience which the Hand of Omnipotence had set 
 wTthin, its dim flame had received a shock which sent its blazing 
 gleams along every fibre of his being. He could blot out the life of 
 a fellow mortal ; but it was beyond his philosophy to extinguish those 
 luminous rays destined to be quenchless. 
 
 Bent, however, on concealing these so called ignoble emotions, 
 IMarch was left to trunks und packages, while his master strolled 
 out into the busy street, and finally sought the convivialities of a 
 farewell, complimentary dinner. 
 
 Ni^^ht found him ascending the marble staircase of one of the 
 exclusive gambling clubs of Paris. His jeweled hand flashed along 
 the gilt balustrades, as it carelessly sought support in his progress. 
 Entering folding doors held by courtly liveries, exchanging saluta- 
 tions in'English, French or German, he stood amidst palatial and 
 
 princely splendors. , . , 
 
 . Colonnades of slender, graceful shafts, crowned with palm- 
 wreathed capitals, rose to the lofty roof. Mirrors, blue and silver 
 hangings, and carpets like woven gardens, stretched away from the ^ 
 fascinated vision. Beneath a galaxy of light that mocked the mid- ' 
 day sun, the duelist paused, bearing in his own breast a phosphor- 
 escent sea of troubled thoughts that out-burned it all. 
 
 Down the far aisles, studded with groups of fair women, clad in 
 the opulence of silks, laces, pearls and jewels, ran his ravished 
 gaze ; but ever and anon, there gleamed forth on his vision, the 
 wan face of a prone and helpless figure. His heart yearned toward 
 
32 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 the dead, — dead from his own giiilty hand, that had so often with 
 fraternal grasp, met the warm clasp of Frederick Steinle in the fes- 
 tive career of student life. 
 
 Sweet and tremulous music floated in with odors from conserva- 
 tories, forming an enchanted atmosphere of exquisite delight ; but a 
 sound unheard by others, changed the mellifflaous strains into dis- 
 cord. A well remembered death- shot seemed repeated in his 
 brain, till he looked to see the players at the game of hazard fall 
 from their seats, leaving himself living and alone. 
 
 He seated himself for the game. His hand held the cards un- 
 steadily. With an air of indifference he saw the last of his remit- 
 tance gathered up by fortunate and clear-headed winners. At 
 length, turning from the gorgeous scene, haunted and desperate, 
 he rushed to the carriage, whirled to his own door, and there 
 cursed March, cursed trunks, voyages, and Paris itself, then sought 
 quiet in sleep. 
 
 Ralph Haywood, like all other men, was only "clay in the hand 
 of the potter," formed to tremble after such violation of every 
 instinct of humanity and justice. He now suffered the inevitable 
 penalty of his transgression. So the murderer could not sleep. 
 The room seemed flooded with broad daylight, when black dark- 
 ness veiled the earth. Abroad, mingling with the world, adhering 
 to the strictest comities of life, he was considered a fearless, un- 
 compromising, reckless aristocrat. But here, in his chamber, alone 
 with his crime, and Omniscience, he was a mere child, a pris- 
 oner in a cell, an autumn leaf at the mercy of the winds. 
 
 Morning broke at length. Glad to be free from himself, Ralph 
 completed his toilet by donning the mask of complaisance and 
 gayety, that he might wear his laurels becomingly. 
 
 Mankind are easily duped. The ruse succeeded, and became 
 reciprocal. Congratulations were the order of the morning. Stu- 
 dents, snobs, cockneys, jockeys, sportsmen, with a sprinkling of 
 '"Lords," *' Counts" and Sirs" came in due procession before our 
 high priest of the Duello. One remarked, on taking his hand, — 
 
 '• Brilliant success yesterday, Haywood," although a secret hor- 
 ror crept to the roots of the speaker's hair. 
 
 " You're a dead shot," echoed another, booted and spurred. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 33 
 
 "I should like your eye and nerve," said a third, toying with a 
 dog-whistle. 
 
 " Haywood's hand and nerve have had a most perfect training, " 
 replied a young Prussian student ; and a cold shudder ran over 
 him, also. 
 
 "The American Flag should command respect wilh such able 
 defenders abroad," said a young Count Petrovsk. 
 
 " Aye, aye," returned Lord Sutledge ; " the Republic has a well 
 defined policy, and ]Mr. Haywood has carried it out admirably." 
 
 This levee' was short. As the others were retiring, Lord Mal- 
 vern dropped in to make his adieus. When alone, Malvern said, — 
 
 "So you are indeed going? Why hasten in midwinter? You 
 will have ample time to assume the responsibihties of plantation 
 life to leave later." 
 
 " What with delays in London and New York, I shall not see 
 Charleston till the beginning of March. And then, my lord. Dame 
 Fortune is inexorable. She deals an iron hand — spades are 
 trumps, and hearts lead. Fu'st, rice and cotton fields. Second, 
 that languishing ' Grace ! ' " 
 
 " The ace of hearts, your intended, I suppose," said his friend, 
 *' and you will follow suit." 
 
 " Not a suit ! I'll trump ! Curse the whole thing. I shall 
 marry, doubtless, according to custom, set up an establishment, 
 and pass for a most exemplary conjiix. But, my lord, life in 
 Charleston is a gay life. Married or single, a man may be a Sul- 
 tan, and his house a harem." 
 
 " Preposterous, Haywood ! You have unsettled sober sense by 
 too deep a potation. You run riot over connubial bliss. Are 
 not the affections exclusive, and do they not instinctively cluster 
 upon one fair object. Your assertions are too broad for belief." 
 
 " Nevertheless, it is even so, my lord. The Southerner marries 
 for blood and estates. The Constitution of the United States 
 grants us no titles of nobility, but Slavery is crystalized within it ; 
 that gives us the absolute power of born sovereigns. Therefore, the 
 best blood is carefully preserved incontaminated, and estates are 
 kept, by marriages, in the first families. For love, — that love which 
 springs up naturally in every human breast, we select for ourselves 
 from the browns and brunettes, one meets at every step. One has 
 
34 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 only to choose according to taste ; and when love cloys with pos- 
 session, the auction-block at home, or the cane-brakes of Louisiana 
 prove an easy relief." 
 
 "And so, Ralph, you consider marriage a barrier to the seraglio- 
 like freedom otherwise enjoyed ? " 
 
 '■^ Mais unc bar)'iere petite ! — Tilings go on similarly, in that case. 
 The only difficulty is a frequent rencofitfe in the conjugal depart- 
 ment. Domestic tranquility is too often troubled by flashing eyes 
 and arrowy words. It is inconvenient. C'est tout'^ 
 
 " Hold ! You are but a young man, yet you speak like one ini- 
 tiated. Your words have the ring of experience." 
 
 "By the infernal ! jSIalvern, am I not initiated? Was I not born 
 and raised among Southern customs.'' Have I not seen childish, 
 harmless wives changed into jealous fiends by this same latitude 
 of circumstances .'* The Carolina Turk does not go to Circassia 
 i)Our acheter des esdaves ; he finds them made to order at his own 
 door. Quadroons and octaroons, — aye, and blue-eyed, fair-haired 
 minxes, in whose veins flows the noblest Southern blood, still fol- 
 lowing the condition of the slave-mother, according to our consid- 
 erate laws." 
 
 With a thoughtful and contemptuous expression at these cool 
 revelations, Lord Malvern briefly replied, — 
 
 " Your land must be strewn with broken hearts, and paved with 
 trampled affections." 
 
 "Nay, not so fast. Chattels are not supposed to have hearts ; 
 and if they should indulge in this forbidden luxury, there is one 
 grand remedy. That sets all matters right." 
 
 " Pray what is that t " 
 
 " For the jealous spouse, indifference and travel. For the hesi- 
 tating arrogance and useless tears of the harem, the work- house or 
 cotton-field. A few days at the hoe in the hot sun, bring back 
 sense and reason." 
 
 During this conversation, March had been busy arranging his 
 master's travelling cases, but now he paused and stood forgetfully, 
 with his back to the talkers. For some reason, both gentlemen 
 raised their eyes simultaneously. The tell-tale mirror hurled back 
 to their observation, the torture and agonized expression of the 
 slave before them. He drank in every word of Ralph's confes- 
 sions. His beating heart and reeling biain were swift witnesses 
 
WAITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 35 
 
 of the awful truth. Oblivious to mirrors, and to himself, memory 
 went back into the dreary past. With hands clasped, and lips 
 moving, his eyes were raised to Him who alone heard the cry of 
 American bondsmen. 
 
 Swift as lightning springs from clouded skies, from the murky 
 atmosphere of that room, darted forth the sharp voice of the slave- 
 holder, — 
 
 '• March, you devil ! what are you doing ? — Practising ' Lot's 
 wife ?' — A pillar of salt is less useful to me now, than a live ser- 
 vant. Take tliose keys from the trunks ! Go, bring refresh- 
 ments ! " 
 
 The vision in the mirror changed aspect. Hands and eyes 
 dropped quickly to the respectful, " I will, sir." 
 
 Fruit, wine and cigars came in. The presence of March brought 
 a frown to his master's face. He was dispatched on a longer er- 
 rand, both for Ralph's relief, and to give opportunity for further 
 conversatfon with his noble friend. 
 
 The glowing wane was poured. Ruby bubbles danced, and 
 broke on its surface, while clusters of delicious grapes were made 
 to yield up their amber hearts, and w^ere then carelessly tossed 
 upon the silver salver. The fragrant wrappings of oranges fell in 
 fragments at their feet, and he resumed, — 
 
 " Yes, I hate him ! There is a tie between us which cannot be 
 regarded. His dark skin and my white face have relationship. 
 March is my half-brother — my father's son — and before his 
 death, was his pet. He was given to me that his life might pass 
 more pleasantly than in home servitude." 
 
 " Does he know the facts ? " 
 
 " Assuredly he does. But he as well knows that I am his mas- 
 ter, and he the slave I take good care to make him feel that.'' 
 
 "Yet he appears to bear his lot with magnanimity, and to ren- 
 der you the respect due from his position." 
 
 Ah ! void le trouble I His very patience is execrable ! His fidel- 
 ity is no allegiance to me^ but is rendered to a soft-eyed octaroon 
 across the water, whom he calls wife." "* 
 
 " Why an aggravation .'' That may secure his services to your- 
 self, and bind him to return. Otherwise, he might take the free- 
 dom which France offers." 
 
36 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "Because he came between me and m}^ prize. Because lie took 
 from me, without an effort, what I strove for, and lost — whicli 
 neither promises nor threats could obtain. By Jove ! my lord, 
 Flora was ' r//<z/-;//^;/A',' slender, graceful, modest. Her dark melt- 
 ing eyes ravished me ; her silken black hair fell into a wealth of 
 rinirs and tovins: curls. And her teeth I Afon Z>/t7/ / they rivalled 
 the pearls of the East. Being a house servant, I had nothing to 
 do but follow her, and try to win. I could have called her mine, 
 but for the presence of this cursed servant, March, and my father's 
 idiotic affection for him." 
 
 " You spoke of the lash as a remedy. Did you bring that to 
 bear in your favor? " 
 
 "Nay, my lord ; but for no lack of will on my part. The hour 
 was appointed, and the number was ordered, when my father inter- 
 fered, and took Flora North, to wait ujDon my mother during the 
 summer tour. Oh ! it was madness to see that cheek flush at the 
 sound of the quiet step of March. To see the eyes which never 
 raised in my presence, lift their long lashes, and shed their full 
 glory on ki??t. Towards me, she was like a rock — firm as adamant. 
 Sometimes I poured upon her a torrent of curses and threats. The 
 only reply was, ' Master Ralph, I must he faithful to March. I 
 have promised him that, and Heaven is my witness. I am in your 
 hands — God be my helper.' " 
 
 "And she was married.'"' 
 
 "Yes, as much as slaves ever are — went from the house to live 
 with him in one of the quarters, down in the edge of the pines, 
 filling them with the delirium of her song — ^ Prima doniia^ to all 
 the mocking birds in the region. But I reckon some of the strings 
 of her harp are unstrung, i purposely brought March to Europe." 
 
 " How many years since, Haywood ? " 
 
 " Four years, my lord ; but it will be ten times that, before they 
 meet again. Damn her pious cant ! she shall see how God is her 
 helper. My revenge will be sweet ; she is sold to the cane-fields 
 of Louisiana. I was out of pocket-money when about to cross ihe 
 Mediterfanean — sold five chattels for expenses ; among them, 
 Mrs. Flora I AIoji bel Arabe\v2iS purchased with her price — a pleas- 
 ant souvenir for me, Sir." 
 
 " Quite a drama, Haywood, for one plantation, in which you 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 37 
 
 have been a leading and successful actor ! " and Lord Malvern, 
 holding in hand his last sparkling cup arose to go. Raising it to 
 his lips he said, — 
 
 *' Here is to your voyage, my friend ! Let winds and waves be 
 propitious." 
 
 Ralph stepped forward and placed his hand familiarly upon his 
 companion's shoulder. 
 
 '• I am under the necessity of holding you to your promise. Lord 
 Malvern. On the night of the duel, the last of my remittance slid 
 from my hands at the gaming table ! Not a sous left ! A loan of 
 two thousand will carry me through. The hours have flown — I 
 must be away." 
 
 " Send for it immediately," Malvern replied. " The money is 
 yours at any moment you may chose to take it." A final an I'Cvoir 
 left the travellers to complete arrangements. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 IT was a New England winter at Alderbank. Snows had fallen 
 over field and street ; fierce northwesters howUng through the 
 tree-tops had heaped the feathery depths to miniature mountain 
 ranges along the various thoroughfares, and around the dw^ellings. 
 Lumbering oxen, powdered with the pearly dust, plunged and wal- 
 lowed through the great drifts. Streams wore glassy coats of ice 
 and the village boys on skates, darted over them with the rapid evo- 
 lutions of flies in the summer air. 
 
 The square tavern at the Corner sent forth from its barroom, 
 reeking fumes of misery within. Young and old ; broadcloth and 
 rags ; the firm step, and the unsteady gait, came and went through 
 its e\^er-open outer door. The blaze of its windows shone out on 
 the frozen darkness, as if lighted by the flames of Tartarus. They 
 stared out into the late hours of night, like fiery eye-balls, the 
 blight, and curse of the fair hamlet and its inhabitants. 
 
 The old tavern, a burning blotch upon the morality of the town, 
 was nevertheless considered a necessity to the community. None 
 but a few so-called eccentric individuals had ever condemned 
 
38 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 it, — those whose perverse views like straggling vines, would not be 
 nailed to customs, but reaching over into the highways and byways 
 of humanit}^ were forever blossoming into heterodox truths. The 
 clergy, and other religious guardians of Alderbank contemplated 
 this tavern with the utmost complaisance. They rather regarded the 
 time honored institution as a useful commentary on the total de- 
 pravity of human nature ; giving temper and point to that theolog- 
 ical dogma. Like Vesuvius in the green heart of Italy, scorching 
 and crisping the sweet valleys at its base, the old " village tavern " 
 poured its lava over the the tenderest, and holiest hopes of the wo- 
 men and children in that vicinity. 
 
 This was an age, too, when every rural home was modeled on 
 certain principles. " ^linutes make hours ; " " Cents make dol- 
 lars ; " and Catechisms make christians ; " were among them. 
 Deacon Steele had an eye to the first two of these axioms, as he 
 rubbed his cold hands at break of day ov^er the hot kitchen stove, 
 and hurried the family to "prayer," while the hired man harnessed 
 the horses. Corn had taken a sudden rise, and potatoes were in 
 brisk demand ; and a lively penny required business dispatch. 
 
 The frosty air stirred the life and nerve of the Deacon's handsome 
 span, the very hills and valle3's seemed to wake from their chill 
 shrouds, and glide away past the flying sleigh. Hemlocks and 
 pines muffled in ermine, and shivering oaks in russet, seemed 
 equally intent on business, though in the opposite direction, and 
 rushed by precipitately. Thin columns of smoke from the chimneys 
 of the scattered farm-houses began to grow red in the tardy rays of 
 the sun ; and the dogs, bounding out from warm sheds, bayed at 
 the passing bells. 
 
 At nine o'clock, the bargain had been struck — cash for the cor- 
 pulent corn-cribs' — cash for the huge bins of potatoes in the cellar. 
 
 At ten o'clock, horses and driver awaited the Deacon's pleasure, 
 before the door of the square tavern in Alderbank. Quite natural 
 that he should drop in to warm, and learn the news of the day. 
 
 In the course of this dela}^ a slight girlish figure, dressed in a 
 cloak of Scotch-plaid, and a hood edged with swan's down, ap- 
 proached the tavern corner. Her eyes first turned admiringly upon 
 the horses ; drawing nearer, she raised them to the driver, still 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 39 
 
 bright with the love she bore the animals. Recognizing an old 
 friend, she exclaimed. 
 
 " O Henry ! is that you ? What pretty horses ! " 
 
 " Yes, its me, Fanny ! and these are pretty horses ; but this morn- 
 is too cold for a white dove like you, to be out walking ! " 
 
 " Not a bit, Henry." By this time she was at the side of the 
 sliegh, offering him her mittened hand. 
 
 " What a girl you are ! to stop here in the street, and shake hands 
 with me ! The bar-room is filled with curious eyes." 
 
 " Oh ! I don't mind the men ! They have no principle. That 
 is a terrible place, Henry ! do you ever go in there .-' " 
 
 "Me ? No ! they are white folks ! They would n't have me in 
 there ! You don't learn these things as fast as I do. But old ' Tad ' 
 the hostler, hobbled out here with a glass of sling — and gave me 
 a kind word besides." 
 
 " What did he say ? " 
 
 " He said, ' Here ! drink this, it will warm you ! Your coat 's 
 nothin' but a sieve for this nor'-wester to blow through, an' they 
 won't let you in by the fire. Drink it ! I paid for 't. 1 know what 
 'tis to freeze, and be kicked round under foot like a dog." 
 
 " Yes ; I like ' old Tad ' for his kindness to you ; but, I don't 
 want anybody to drink even one glass. This place has destroyed 
 many a man, young and old. Why did you not drive round to our 
 house, hitch the horses in our yard, and go in by the fire, to warm ? 
 Susan comes quite often." 
 
 The old sign on the green, swinging fiercely in the blast, creaked 
 out in its highest key, as if to say, — '* Why didn't you go Henry ? " 
 
 Deacon Steele came to the door, flushed with his brandy, and 
 corn prospects. He exclaimed, — 
 
 " 'Pon my word ! Here is Fanny Beame ! Well, well ! the roses 
 are blowing on your cheeks if they are dead everywhere else. 
 ' Hen ! ' is she teasing you for a ride ? Haul off them blankets ! 
 Tuck her into them buffaloes, and give her a ride round the square, 
 home. Make 'em dance, ' Hen ' ! let her hear the bells lively ! " 
 
 Once in the sleigh, and ready to go, the Deacon called out, — 
 
 " Fanny ! I forgot to tell you we are going to have a protracted 
 meeting at our church, next week; and Alary says she shall have 
 you to stay with her, so I '11 send ' Hen ' after you." 
 
40 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Pawing the snow, shaking their fiery heads and flying manes, 
 the span tore away, glad to warm themselves again. Fanny tells 
 Henry not to drive so fast, as she likes to ride slow, and admire 
 ihem. 
 
 " Any way to please you, Miss Fanny, for I suppose the Deacon, 
 once in that bar-room, would never know the time o' day any more. 
 He *s one of the influential men of the town — those fellows in there 
 flatter him, and he pays back in 'flips' and 'slings." 
 
 With a gay laugh, Fanny said, — 
 
 "\Vell ! you have learned one big word, haven't vou Henry? — 
 'Influential'!" 
 
 "Yes, I've learned several; but if I should undertake to use 
 them all, I should fix them in the v>Tong places, I expect." 
 
 " Repeat them to me ! Do ! Just look at those ears ! What 
 beauties ! Do you not love these horses? " 
 
 " I like horses better than men." 
 
 "Tell me the words, now ;" she said — mixing up the serious 
 and comical in a highly enjoyable manner. 
 
 "I beg you to excuse me, :Miss Fanny. I don't like to offend 
 you ; you'll think me very wicked ! Tliey are what you may call 
 holy words ! Whoa ! ' Sultan ' — steady — boy ! " 
 
 " How the snow sparkles in the sun ! we fly through the drifts ! 
 What is the name of the other? " 
 
 " ' Czar,' they call him. I'll bring him down : they are as gentle 
 as lambs." 
 
 " ' Czar ' and ' Sultan ' ! Splendid ! Do you think I could drive 
 them^ if you look after me ? " 
 
 The reins were placed carefully in her hands ; Henry saying, — 
 
 "There, hold them just so; pull steady, Miss Fanny;" and his 
 dark face beamed with delight, as his hands rested on his patched 
 knees. 
 
 " Now tell me the words ? " She asked again, looking straight at 
 her beautiful charge. ''I don't think you are wicked ! " 
 
 " Well ; I know 'depravity,' ' piety,' ' under conviction,' * edified,' 
 'justified,' 'pearly gates,' 'golden crowns,' 'despair,' darkness,' 
 * experience ' ; that is, I know the words ; but I don't see how they 
 mean anything, they never helped me, nor Susan, nor the children 
 to get bread and clothes." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 4I 
 
 "Perhaps so, Henry. But these words don't mean 'bread and 
 clothes ' — they are holy words — church words. Me ! how their 
 feet throw the snowballs against the dasher ! going up this hill. 
 Can I turn this corner ? " 
 
 "Yes," said Henry. "Draw this rein a little. There ! easy on 
 the bit." 
 
 With a few spirited springs up the declivity, they stopped in the 
 yard. His hand was quickly on the reins ; and Fanny, after pat- 
 ing their glossy necks, entered the house. 
 
 " Quite aristocratic for a plebian ! Dashed up in fine style ! A 
 matched pair, and biack driver ! Ah 1 Lady Fan ! Would not do 
 to send you South ! " exclaimed her brother, sitting on the com- 
 fortable settee, surrounded with Greek and Hebrew books. 
 
 " Hush, Richard, Deacon Steele sent me home. I had a charm- 
 ing ride. Henry is no servant — I drove myself. But he has been 
 waiting a long time before the bar-room door, and is nearly 
 frozen ! " 
 
 Henry entered meekly, and was seated by Richard Beame, near 
 the stove. He said to him dryly ; 
 
 "Take care, Henry! Do not allow this sister of mine to rule 
 you, she is a bit of a tyrant." 
 
 '• I am too happy to serve her ! She never makes me feel my 
 nothingness, like many others." 
 
 "' She makes me feel my nothingness in theology," said Richard ; 
 " however, after a little more Hebrew, I think I can measure lances 
 with her. But Fanny, 3'ou should pour a cup of coffee for our friend, 
 and look up some lunch also, for that compliment." 
 
 The coffee-pot was steaming on the stove ; and while Fanny was 
 preparing the refreshing beverage, Mrs. Beame said, — 
 
 " I cannot imagine, Henry, how you keep warm, with such cloth- 
 ing. Have you no other coat .'' " 
 
 "No other, Madam ; my wages barely keep Susan and me and the 
 children in food. I could get a good second-handed coat ; but the 
 church ladies are getting together all such things, to send in a box 
 to the missionaries among the Indians. They bring them to Mrs. 
 Steele's to be packed." 
 
 " And you are too modest to ask for one ? " 
 
 '' I suffered so much v.ith the cold, I was oblidged to ask ; but I 
 
42 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 offered to pay for it. Mrs. Greene, one of the ladies, said I could 
 have one for five dollars — that it cost thirty when it was new. I 
 asked Deacon Steele for the money, but he said it was pretty well 
 used up now ; so I lost the coat." 
 
 " I am not surprised,'' replied Mrs. Beame. " I have observed 
 the ways of the church for years. They will be eaten up by Can- 
 nibals abroad, rather than follow Christ at home ! " 
 
 Then Fanny, always fearful, lest her mother should speak too 
 strongly, mildly interfered, saying, — 
 
 " ^rhe deacon is a kind man ; you know he sent me home in his 
 sleigh." 
 
 The mother replied, — 
 
 '' He is a man who will carry pretty girls to ride as long as he 
 lives ; but who ever saw his horses prancing up to the crazy doors 
 of our six or eight black families in this town, to carry comforts for 
 their destitution ? and you well know my daughter, how great that 
 is. Who ever saw him carrying those forsaken people to the pro- 
 tracted meeting, to save t/ic/r souls ? " 
 
 " My dear mother! "said Richard, "you know this is not the 
 custom. It does not affect the value, or truth of our religion, that 
 its professors do not live ' up to their privileges.' We will try to do 
 our duty, and throw the mantle of charity over the faults, or short- 
 comings of others. I believe that with the right kind of teaching 
 the people wilT yield to the fraternal doctrines of the New Testa- 
 ment, that mankind is one great brotherhood !" 
 
 " My Son ! listen to these words ; 'Ye shall know theni by their 
 fruits,' ' Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles ? * Now 
 according to my observation, the churches are beds of doctrinal 
 thorns and thistles, over which the naked feet of the poor and op- 
 pressed cannot walk, and from which we cannot look for grapes 
 and figs, for the refreshment of individuals or communities." 
 
 " Mother, your assertions are sweeping, and apparently based 
 upon the scriptures. But our present church is the blossom of more 
 than three centuries, it has been watered by holy martyr-blood, 
 it is entitled to reverence by believers, as their only ark of trust and 
 safety." 
 
 " More martyr-blood must fall somewhere ! You and I agree 
 that the negro is an outcast ; and I warn you that the religion of 
 our country maJzcs him an outcast." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 43 
 
 " Yes ; I acknowledge him an outcast ; but let us do something 
 for Henry. Can you not spare the over coat that was father's ? 
 For three years it has been kept sacred to his memory." 
 
 "Yes, Richard ; it is wrong to keep it longer ; Henry can have 
 it. Fanny, you will find the coat in the closet, up stairs. There 
 are mittens, and a comforter also folded in a piece of linen, in the 
 upper bureau drawer." 
 
 Henry begged to refuse, saying he should not feel right to wear 
 
 them. ,, 
 
 " I am used to cold — some other one should wear them. 
 Mrs. Beame took the carefully preserved relics, saying, se- 
 riously, — 
 
 " If I keep them from you, it is robbery ! We can rob our fel- 
 low creatures as well by with-holding from them what is our power 
 to bestow, as by taking fraudulently, what they already have. Who 
 is better than you ? The Lord pleads your cause. He will spoil 
 the souls of those who spoil his poor ; I dare not keep them with 
 your want before me! Do not offer thanks, I am verily at fault 
 for keeping them so long." 
 
 Henry took the clothes from her hand without a word, except a 
 humble " Good^morning." In closing the door, he heard Richard 
 calling, — 
 
 " Here, driver, take these boots. They are too large for me, 
 and heavier than I need, at present. Keep up your heart Trust 
 in God for better days. ^^ 
 
 Going to the sleigh, Henry carefully rolled his gifts together, 
 and placed them under the seat ; lest, if seen through the befogged 
 vision of that bar-room, they might call forth unjust reflections 
 upon his friends, as well as himself. He drove back to the tavern, 
 and waited for the deacon. 
 
 The twelve o'clock bell of the factory rang. The operatives 
 poured from its six stories like bees from a hive — small boys and 
 girls, youths, men and women. The black horses and the black 
 Kenry before the bar-room door drew immediate attention. They 
 swarmed up the various paths past the tavern, with the great Amer 
 ican instinct, '" negro hate," in full play. Here the boys found 
 tlieir native element ; and like unfledged ducklets, plunged in. 
 They ruffled their feathers — they glossed them down again. 
 
44 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 They huddled and twaddled over the precious opportunity ; tliey ha, 
 ha'd ! jeered, pointed their fingers, and waved hats with rims' and 
 without rims, till some one of the young mob cried out, — 
 
 " Who painted you so black ? " 
 
 Henry, stung at last into a reply, rang out, — 
 
 '• God ! you little heathen ! " 
 
 The boy, supposing " heathen " a foreign word, uttered a broad 
 laugh ; but the expression of some older faces lost the look of 
 derision, settling into something like shame. Another called out, — 
 
 " Halloo ! nigger ! How you sell rags a pound ? " 
 
 Henry coolly replied, — 
 
 '' Don't sell in this village. Sell my rags to Bible Societies, to 
 make paper to print the gospel on." 
 
 Finally, amidst a fusilade of " nigger ! nigger ! " and a last 
 *' Good-bye, Thundercloud," they went to dinner. 
 
 A few words floated into the bar room — but they were all right 
 there. Profanity and Bibles were as much mixed there, as rum 
 and water. 
 
 At two o'clock, Deacon Steele came to the door to go home. 
 Stepping down, he lay prostrate upon the snow. Winking and 
 blinking in the bright sun, he stammered out, — 
 
 " What's the matter. Hen ? Has it been rainin' and freezin' ? " 
 
 After much sli^Dping and rolling he gained his feet, and called 
 out, — 
 
 " Start along the horses. Hen. Don't you see ! That sign-post 
 is on a whirl ! that painted wolf up there'll slap their ears ! There, 
 that's it. We'll get off afore she comes round again ! " 
 
 The horses had not yet lifted a hoof; and an observer would 
 have seen a curious smile lighting up Henry's eyes, as he extended 
 his hand to the deacon, v/ho by this time was burying his head in 
 the buffalo robes on the floor of the sleigh, with his boots bal- 
 ancing in air, as if he intended to shake off the dust of his feet 
 against the dancing frivolities about him. 
 
 Henry respectfully raised the deacon, who took the front seat, 
 bareheaded, saying, — 
 
 "Til sit with you, Henry. I want to talk with you goin' home." 
 
 He picked up the deacon's hat, also remarking politely, — 
 
 " This is a very high wind, sir." 
 
WAITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 4^ 
 
 After some swaying to and fro, as the runners bounded in and 
 out of the "cradle-holes," Deacon Steele said, — 
 
 " Put your arm round me, Hal. I feel the weakness of the flesh. 
 Driv'C slower. It's early in the morning, you know ; we shall get 
 home before eleven o'clock, — time enough to measure up the corn 
 before night." 
 
 The strong arm steadied the deacon's motion, and he said, — 
 
 "Don't forget, Hal, to go after Fanny Beame next week, when 
 our protracted meetin' begins. She's a purty gal." 
 
 "No, sir; and when I drive down after her, can I have a bushel 
 of your corn to carry to mill for my Susan ? " 
 
 '• Your Sue .? yes. She's another purty creetur — she's trim built. 
 She may have a bushel of corn at the market price, to-day. 
 Speakin' of that meetin', Hal, it's goin' to be a solemn time. Sin- 
 ners will be converted from the error of their ways, and God will 
 be gloritied. We shall have ministers and prayin' Christians at 
 our house. It will be a good time for you, Hal, to look after your 
 soul. You know your soul is as precious as anybody's." 
 
 " I expect it is of some account to its Maker. They say so ; but 
 it takes me all my time to look after the body — and three other 
 bodies waiting upon me. I never thought my body or soul to be 
 of much account, anyway." 
 
 " Did you ever experience religion, Hal ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, I've experienced a good deal of white people's religion, 
 one time or another." 
 
 " Did you ever have family prayers, and draw the blessing of 
 Heaven in that way, and draw down the holy, sanctifying power of 
 Divine Grace, to keep you from the contaminating influences of a 
 depraved world, and — Hold on to me, Hal 1 I'm weak in the 
 flesh, and this runner cuts deep." 
 
 "All right, sir. These horses are in a hurry to get home." 
 
 "Hold 'em in, Hal. At our last protracted meetin', we made a 
 vow to talk with all the sinners that came in our way, on the salva- 
 tion of their souls; and then, at the next, to count over the con- 
 verts we had made; and — "' 
 
 Unfortunately, at this moment, the sudden check brought the 
 whiffle- tree to Sultan's heels. With a fiery bound, he upset the 
 equilibrium of the sleigh, and of the conversation. The deacon 
 
46 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 went flying out over the hard crust, like a rolling plume loosed 
 from its fastening. The hat took another airing. Czar was nearly 
 on his knees — Sultan was rearing in the air. Henry could render 
 no assistance to the flying deacon, but waited for him, calming the 
 excited animals. After much sprawling, the hat was captured. 
 With an equal amount of ''pigeon-wings " and "military salutes," 
 into which some interjections were thrown, not found in Bible or 
 grammar, the good man reached the road, and fell in among the 
 robes again. 
 
 Moving forward, and trying to catch the thread of his unravelled 
 discourse, he asked, — 
 
 "What subject was I speakin' on?" 
 
 " Family prayers, I believe, sir." 
 
 •' Well, Hal, do you have family pra3^ers ? " 
 
 " No, sir ; it would almost be out of the question, for I am 
 scarcely ever at home with my family. We are poor, you know, 
 sir ; poverty separates us. If I should pray at home, I should pray 
 straight against the laws, and straight against the churches and 
 Christians ; so it don't seem to be of much use for white people to 
 pray one way, and black ones to pray entirely different." 
 
 "God forbid that an infidel should find shelter under my roof. 
 Hal, you can't read ! Where did you lea in it .? not in books ! — 
 Prayer moves Heaven, it besieges the golden gates ! It brings God 
 down to earth, and takes His divine will by storm ! Don't you ever 
 pray, Hal ? " 
 
 " Yes I pray generally in the streets, among mobs. I prayed to- 
 day in your sleigh, down at Alderbank." 
 
 " Well ; I am glad to hear it. I trust, through my efforts, you'll 
 be converted ; and you'll become a star in my golden crown, which 
 I shall wear upon my glorified head. Halloo ! what's the matter 
 now ! why don't you go ahead .? " 
 
 " We're home now Sir, and here's a fine turnout waiting: at the 
 gate." 
 
 " Yes, yes ! 'Angels are strangers unawares.' Somebody's got 
 money that rides in that cutter! Such harnesses as thern ain't 
 found in this town ! " 
 
 ]\lary met her father at the door, placed a chair for him and re- 
 marked, — 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 47 
 
 "Your rheumatics trouble you again." 
 
 " Yes, Mary, some ; but that aint all. I'm sort of stiff from 
 holding up Hen. He will drink at the tavern, he leaned over on 
 me. But he's a poor creetur ! I've been talking to him on the way 
 home, and trying to have him get religion, if he ever gets into 
 Heaven, it must be done through our means." 
 
 "Yes, father, these long rides always increase your rheumatics ; 
 but guess who has come ? " 
 
 She drew him gently to the sitting-room door. He replied, — 
 
 " Some Grandee ; I guess, by the cutter and horses in the snow 
 out there." 
 
 The deacon rushed forward to his long absent brother, for so 
 the late comer was. Mutual congratulations, the cheering influence 
 of warm rooms and a generous supper nearly effaced the work of 
 the bar-room. They sat down to compare memories and events. 
 That was a pleasant room, after a day of cold and drifts. On the 
 mantel, above the high Philadelphia stove, two whale-oil glass lamps 
 burned: The scarlet and green plaids of the home-made carpet 
 glowed fresh as ever. White curtains, edged with netted and tasseled 
 fringe, shaded the windows. Circular mats, braided of gay-col- 
 ored woolens were spread before the stove and entrances, wooden 
 chairs, shining black, without a mote of dust, kept their proper 
 places around the walls, with a polished cherry table, covered 
 with " driven white " linen, fringed also with tasselled netting, 
 the accomplishment of those days, into which meshes, rosy farmer 
 girls netted their youthful loves and hopes. A gilt framed looking- 
 glass overhung the table, upon which solemnly reposed " Scott's 
 Commentaries," " Baxter's Saint's Rest," "John Calvin," " Watts' 
 Psalms and Hymns," the Assembly's Catechism," and " Missionary 
 Herald ; " like grim monks of old, keeping guard over the spiritual 
 interests of the household. 
 
 Two plain wooden arm-chairs, cushioned and frilled with gay- 
 colored chintz were drawn to the stove by the brothers. Distance 
 from the stores had delayed culinary preparations for revival week ; 
 and the father had brought home various elements of that art. 
 Therefore Mrs. Steele, with her two daughters, Mary and Dorcas, 
 remained in the kitchen to further the baking. 
 
 This kitchen joined the sitting-room. The door betw-een them 
 
48 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 was left partially open, that the social current might not be broken, 
 and a tacit regard for their guest might be expressed. The tidy, 
 neat floor, painted brown, and doited with mats ; the papered 
 walls; the '"dresser," with rows of shining tins and quaint pieces 
 of crockery ; the hot stove rubbed to a gloss, and roaring up its 
 pipe with a fierce business air ; the old clock in the corner, like an 
 embalmed Pilgrim of the Mayflower; the spotted yellow and white 
 hound. Foxy, sleeping on the hearth; and the box piled high with 
 wood made a cosy cooking-room at all times. The chatting of the 
 busy women over flour, butter, yeast, apples and spices ; the clatter 
 of plates, measures and mortars precluded the possibility of their 
 hearing conversation in the adjoining room. 
 
 The deacon and his brother had the evening to themselves. 
 Henry's chores were faithfully done. Czar and Sultan under warm 
 blankets, stood knee deep in fresh straw, pulling wisps of hay 
 from the rack. The oxen chewed their cuds safe in the stanchions. 
 Every barn and shed-door firmly closed, the lantern was deposited 
 in the usual place. Henry sat by himself, unnoticed in the shadow 
 of the angle formed by the half open door and the wall against 
 which his chair leaned. He sat silent and thinking, — thinking. 
 No one questioned his thoughts — they were of no consequence. 
 If would have been an insane act to go out to the barn and look 
 in the calm eyes of the oxen for troubled thoughts, with the inten- 
 tion of uttering a soothing word, even if that day's work had marked 
 their patient sides with the cruel goad. No well balanced Chris- 
 tian in Cloudspire would belie his God-like image in that manner. 
 
 So here was black Henry in his stall. To look in his eyes by can- 
 dle-light, or any other light for the purpose of reading that day's cruel 
 humiliation, would be the height of folly. A creature almost born 
 in Africa — a lineal descendant from Ham's accursed race. It 
 was suincient that he had his supper, standing at one end of the 
 sink, — that his pewter plate was garnished with fried salt porl:, 
 Irish potatoes, and rye bread. The first table had been loaded 
 with savory viands, chicken, roast beef, mince pie, raised cake, 
 cranbeny, and other preserves. But these were considered neces- 
 sary only to the fine, delicate fibre of Saxon brain. The " Com- 
 mentaries," " Saint's Rest," and other products of that organ on 
 the cherry table in the sitting-room, were probably written under the 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 49 
 
 divine inflatus of such ethereal stimuli. So Henry and Foxy were 
 both benignly allowed to be comfortable by the roaring stove, on 
 this frosty winter night. 
 
 The two gentlemen in the sitting-room were now ready for con- 
 versation. William Steele, the deacon's youngest brother, left the 
 blue hills of his native State, Massachusetts, five years before, and 
 wandered to the rice fields of South Carolina. Both had been 
 raised "strictly " in the faith of their fathers. William left college 
 midway between the Freshman and Graduate, to seek means^ for 
 prosecuting a course of theological study at Andover. He desired 
 to become^one of that body of New England clergy, whose watch- 
 fulness, like the great Chinese Wall, surrounded the land of the 
 Puritans, and guarded its time-honored tenets from heretical in- 
 roads. Standing with one foot on Plymouth Rock, and the other 
 upon the vanities of earth, he was to have become, at once, a burn- 
 ing light in her midst, and an honor to his ancestral record. 
 
 Hvifliam Steele was a model of political consistency. Next to the 
 Bible, he held the Federal Constitution. To both of them his faith 
 and fancy clung with the tenacity of a bat among the stone-work of 
 ancient feudal edifices. The double constructions and enigmatical 
 passages of both were to him only so many dusty corners and dark 
 corridors, in which he might remain safely ensconced in case of 
 assault from the modern bowmen, whose arrows were beginning to 
 throw confusion among creeds and precedents. He found Slavery 
 in the Bible and the Constitution, and the rubber wings of his soul 
 never bore him more gracefully than when he fluttered through 
 either, in defense of this great national right. 
 
 In his view, it made no difference whether he stood a granite pil- 
 lar of the church, defying the blasts and ice of New England, or 
 whether he became a Corinthian shaft entwined with jasmine and 
 roses, supporting the Constitution in the balmy airs of the South. ^ 
 
 Thus, after a short residence in Carolina, he stepped upon his 
 pedestal of '-State Rights," and resolved that henceforth the 
 great work of his life should be in defence of the American Eagle 
 and the Federal Constitution. He exchanged his prospect ot a 
 pastorate, with confessed loyalty to God and man. He laid aside 
 the clerical robes of black, and assumed the light summer suit 
 and broad-brimmed straw of the plantation overseer, with an equal 
 
$0 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 obligation to principle. He put aside the sacramental symbols, 
 and in their stead, took up the thumb-screws and driver's whip 
 with a conscience void of offence. He believed himself still in the 
 field, upholding an identically righteous cause. 
 
 "Well, now, what brought you North in February, William?" 
 questioned the deacon. 
 
 " I have just finished the last year's crop ; sent away the last 
 tierces of rice." 
 
 " Why not have left before the year's work was finished ? We 
 Northerners never wait till all our produce is sold, before making 
 a journey." 
 
 " Of course ; but we carry on planting interests in a different 
 manner. The small farmer can recall at any moment from mem- 
 ory the number of his bushels of corn, rye and potatoes. He can 
 go down cellar and count the barrels of apples ; can keep on a slip 
 of paper in his pocket book all the wages for hired help. Our 
 landholders in Carolina are rich. Their field hands are counted 
 by fifdes and hundreds. One plantation may extend over from 
 one thousand to five thousand acres. Let's see, how many acres in 
 your farm } " 
 
 With a touch of injured pride the deacon replied, — 
 
 "You used to know every foot of it — one hundred and eighty 
 acres." 
 
 "Yes; that is considered a 'right smart chance' up here, with a 
 fourth of it hill pasture, one half bowlders and pulverized rocks, and 
 about one-tenth rolled out into grass meadows. There, one planter 
 has from three to five plantations, with a residence in the city, and 
 any amount of stocks and bonds." 
 
 " How many plantations has Mr. Fairland?" 
 
 "He has five — two rice, and three upland cotton, 'mostly.' '* 
 
 " Do you oversee all these farms ? " 
 
 " Bless you ! no. I am manager for the two rice plantations, — 
 am sole overseer to the one named ' Le Grand Palais,' with two 
 hundred and fifty acres rice land. The other, called the ' Nile,' 
 has a low-bred cracker overseer. The other three cotton places. 
 * Staple,' ' Success,' and ' Snowfield,' are under two crackers, and a 
 splendid fellow from Connecticut." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 5 1 
 
 " On which one does Mr. Fairland reside ? " 
 
 " His winter residence is ' Le Grand Palais.' In summer, stays 
 in town, or at watering-places when in this country. But, as I 
 wrote you, he is still in Europe — has been there some four years 
 with his family." 
 
 "It must take a good income to go these rounds : better than we 
 farmers get, up here. But I should suppose all his business w^ould 
 go at loose ends while he is across the water. You must have 
 things pretty much your own way." 
 
 "\Vell, not precisely; they know the average yield of the places. 
 But, better still, they know their annual net mcomes to be expended 
 i-n luxury and travel. They have no more care of their own ac- 
 counts than children. All business transactions are performed by 
 factors or agents, in Charleston, The crops of rice and bales of 
 cotton are sent to these factors who dispose of them at their dis- 
 cretion. The planter WTites his demands for so much of his funds 
 as he chooses ; the factor remits it, informing him from time to 
 time how much he has remaining for the current year. Frequently 
 the factor will make advances upon the strength of the prospect- 
 ive crop, if accounts from the agents or overseers are favorable. 
 Most of our Southerners live like princes — royal in their tastes 
 and pursuits, and generous in hospitality." 
 
 "Well, William, I hope our small farms, small houses, and plain 
 living w^on't drive you back too soon. I suppose you take charge 
 of the Fairland mansion, and live like a prince, too. By and by 
 you will be marrying one of Fairland's daughters." 
 
 " Don't think so. I prefer a pure-hearted Northern girl. To 
 confess the truth, I am here on just that errand — to marry in this 
 very town. Have but a short time to stay, and must take my prize 
 back with me. What success, in your judgment? " 
 
 " Success ! why, the trouble will be that you will scarcely get 
 av/ay with but 07ie. You will be beseiged. Your name stands high 
 in the church since the present ot the costly Bible and the ' silver 
 font.' Everybody, that is, all the members inquire after you, and 
 pray for you, since that. And I tell you, William Steele," (and 
 here the deacon warmed, as his palm came dov/n on his brother's 
 shoulder), " we have girls in this town as pretty and as trim-built 
 
$2 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 as ever sat in a pew. When you look at their cheeks you'll forget 
 that it's winter and think it's cherry time." 
 
 William stroked his beard in a satisfied abstraction, and with a 
 half smile he said, — 
 
 " So my gift to the church was acceptable ? " 
 
 "It is the envy of neighboring churches ; but I was thinking you 
 should keep your salaiy a little closer. That solid silver basin 
 must have made your pocket light. You'll want your own planta- 
 tion, with the slaves to work it. A penny saved is as good as a 
 penny earned. What did you pay for the font and the Bible ? " 
 
 " Really they cost me nothing. It was a side speculation." Here 
 he arose, ran his fingers through his hair, buried his hands in his 
 pockets, and walked the floor, yawning either evasively or conse- 
 quentially, one could scarcely tell which. He came back to his 
 chair, and leaned towards his brother confidentiallv. *' I had a 
 salable article on my hands, and a rare opportunity to dispose of 
 it, which I did. Out of respect to my good fortune, I resolved to 
 fulfill a duty to the church of my early vows — to lay on its altar a 
 thank-offering for the great blessings and success of my life." 
 
 " How was that ? Let me share the joy of your prosperity. 
 That South is a far-o5 country; let me know something of it." 
 
 " Let all I say, then, remain between us as men. Women can't 
 understand bearings beyond their sphere. What I sold was not 
 purloinings of rice and cotton. I detest such meanness. That 
 plain and pointed lesson of boyhood's days, ' Thou shalt not steal,' 
 taught in our Sabbath school, is indelibly impressed upon my moral 
 nature. I disposed of what was my own by right, not another's. 
 
 " About six months after my arrival at * Le Grand Palais,' Mr. 
 Fairland's factor sent up five slaves per order. Messrs. Kershaw & 
 Lewis purchased them from the auction sales at Charleston. One 
 of them, an octaroon girl of tall and elegant figure, was in bad 
 health — what we term 'unsound.' She seemed dejected and 
 broken-spirited. j\Ir. Fairland favored Isabel by taking her into 
 the 'Great House,' as lady's maid for his wife. But Isabel kept 
 her look of abstraction, and grew daily less active. Her mistress 
 drove her from the house, ordering her to the field. 
 
 "The next day, when the driver's horn rang along the quarters, 
 the octaroon went down to the rice swamp with the gang. The 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 53 
 
 morning was hot. She was not used to the hoe, any more than one 
 of Fairland's daughters, and lagged behind the others. The driver 
 drew his whip across her shoulders, the blood reddened her dress, 
 and she fell fainting. I was riding along the banks at the time, 
 and ordered her brought out and laid under a live-oak. During 
 the day I had an interview with the master, relating the circum- 
 stances, and advising that she would be a. dead loss to him if kept 
 in the field; that to put her in the hospital as nurse, to take care 
 of the little 'pickaninnies,' would be to his pecuniary advantage. 
 The nursery was down by the quarters, and he consented. She 
 went into a fever, and for six weeks was no better than dead. The 
 physician raised her at last. 
 
 '' Not many weeks after, the master and mistress left for Europe. 
 Of course, the authority was in my hand. I ordered Isabel to 
 come to my house to cook for me. I took some pains to wean her 
 from melancholy, assuring her I stood her defense from the lash in 
 the future. I even carried her flowers in my own hand — placed 
 them in her raven hair. Good heavens ! she was lovely ! I gave 
 her the same food as she cooked for me ; and that was cooking. 
 If she looked at fiour, butter and eggs, they were transformed into 
 the most delightful compounds. I gave up bacon and hominy, 
 and made old 2^Iauma 'Rue,' my former cook, fowl-minder." 
 
 Here William Steele forgot himself — forgot the half-open door 
 and the inmates of the spicy kitchen. Unobservant of his sur- 
 roundings, he was lost in the sweetest memories of his life. In 
 imagination he was novv^ overseer at '* Grand Palais." He was sit- 
 ting in his own room ; tangled skeins of gray moss festooned the 
 windows and doors; sprays of English iv-y shaded the mirror; jas- 
 mines and roses scattered perfumes ; two plates, with two china 
 cups and saucers on the white cloth, awaited his tea-hour ; Isabel, 
 silent and martyr-like, slowly glided in and out. 
 
 Wrapped in the delicious dream he proceeded, forgetfully raising 
 his voice to its natural tones. 
 
 "Her health never became sound. In the course of time she 
 became a mother. I gave her my bed to make her more comfort- 
 able, and for two months it was her resting-place. Then she died. 
 I sat by her in her last moments^ and held her thin hands in 
 
 mme.' 
 
54 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "What killed her? What was the trouble?" bluntly asked the 
 deacon. 
 
 "During the two months' sickness, I drew from her these facts. 
 She was brought from Savannah. Her father was a French Con- 
 sul, her mother a quadroon, the slave of the Governor of Georgia. 
 A young blood named Dentelle, son of a planter, bought Isabel 
 when about sixteen, set up for himself an establishment in that 
 city, made her the partner of his bed and board, surrounded her 
 with elegance, and lavished upon her the luxuries which Southern- 
 ers so freely dispense. He clothed her in silks and laces, equal to 
 those which adorned the ladies of his father's household. He wore 
 a curl of her hair in a locket hidden about his neck. He called 
 her his Sultana. Isabel adored him. If Dentelle made jaunts to 
 Louisiana or the North, he wrote her the tenderest of letters. 
 Thus her slave life floated by for some years. She had borne him 
 three children. He brought her to Charleston as he had fre- 
 quently done before, and went North. 
 
 " Two or three days after he left a guard took her to one of the 
 slave marts, where she was sold on the block to IMr. Fairland's 
 factor for our plantation. She wept, and begged for her children 
 incessantly, till the annoyance became intolerable. Then they told 
 her the children were sold to Mississippi. 
 
 " Well, as I was saying, Isabel died. I had her well buried in a 
 black coffin, under the magnolias by the river. I gave the child, 
 named Lillian by her mother, to Mauma Rue to raise till I saw 
 further. I concluded to sell her. She was Fairland's by law, but 
 she was mine by parentage. She was highly marketable, and 
 would sell for a good price. Her curls were flaxen, and her eyes 
 deep blue. The only stain upon her waxen skin was a mark on 
 her back and shoulders, like small streams of trickling blood, 
 dripping into heavy red drops. Isabel said it was a complete copy 
 of the blood on her own back, after that cut in the field. Lillian 
 would take the fancy of many a Southern gentleman oE leisure with 
 a full purse. 
 
 "When the child was old enough to run about laughing and chat- 
 ting, a trader came through on his way to New Orleans, making up 
 his gang as he went. He camped in the pines three miles away. 
 I jumped on my horse and rode over. The gang was chained to- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 55 
 
 <Tether, and the covered baggage wagons ready to leave the next 
 morning. I called the trader one side, and bargained for the 
 child. I wanted just about one hundred and fifty dollras for the 
 old church here, and I took that amount, although much lower than 
 her value. He agreed to meet me half way at midnight, and take 
 her to the wagons. As she had slept with me for three months, 1 
 could easily take her to him myself. The night was dark. It was 
 dropping rain, and no discovery could be made. The next morn- 
 ing I gave out word that Lillian was stolen by the slave trader, 
 which was entirely satisfactory to Mauma Rue, as that was the 
 habit of the traders." 
 
 "What did you- pay for the Bible and the font?" asked his 
 brother. 
 
 " The pastor of Antioch church was going down to Charleston, 
 and I commissioned him to purchase. He paid one hundred dol- 
 lars for the font. It was broughi; from London for a special use, 
 but for some reason was not taken. As he was to pass through 
 New Yoik on his way to Mapleton in this State, he bought the 
 Bible at thirty dollars, and I spent the remaining twenty for Sun- 
 day school books for your church." 
 
 " Well ! " said the deacon, " quite interesting ; you must be 
 thirsty ;" calling Mary at the same time to bring in apples, hickory 
 nuts and cider, adding, "you have come at the right time, Wil- 
 liam — protracted meeting will give you a good look at all the 
 
 girls." 
 
 Henry was aroused from apparent sleep, in which his head had 
 been thrown back against the hinge-opening of the door. He 
 cracked the nuts, drew the cider, and withdrew to his garret over 
 the woodshed. The bit of candle was extinguished in the open 
 blast before reaching the stairway. Entering the low room in 
 darkness, he rushed against one of the rafters, and finally threw 
 himself on the bed. A tempest raged within his breast. 
 
 " Bought and sold ! Chains and manacles for us everywhere, 
 either of iron or custom ! Wronged, mocked and spit upon ! Who 
 was Ham ? What did he do to curse his race through everlasting 
 ages ? " 
 
 He hated every white face North and South, and continued to 
 soliloquize, — 
 
56 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "An overseer takes the price of his own little blue-eyed daugh- 
 ter, and purchases a basin with it for the baptism of other children, 
 *in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.' The church 
 Imnts 7Jie down — I will not pray those wretched prayers." 
 
 He came nigh to cursing. By accident his hand brushed the 
 bundle of clothing given him that day. Richard Beame seemed to 
 call him again, and say, " Keep up your heart. If you cannot 
 trust in men, trust in God for better days." Then Fanny's mit- 
 tened hand seemed reaching to him, as at the sleigh the other day, 
 her face 
 
 " of innocence and of prayer, 
 And of love and faith that never fails ; 
 Such as the fresh young heart exhales 
 Before it begins to wither and to harden," 
 
 He slid down upon his knees, the heart more than the lips 
 asked that if indeed he was made in the image of God, it might 
 not be blotted out ; that he might trust as Richard had said; and 
 that he might leave the wrongs of his race to a wiser keeping. 
 
 *' God listening must have overheard 
 
 The prayers, thus without sound or word. 
 Our hearts in secresy, have said," 
 
 Sunday came and went. The gospel was preached ; besides, 
 some other very pleasant tidings were disseminated. That Sab- 
 bath sun went down convoyed by the rosiest of clouds. A rosy 
 light filled the town. William Steele, the handsome, rich South- 
 erner, had arrived. He was at church, and between morning and 
 evening services Mary and Dorcas moved about like May queens 
 with royal suites, whispering to all that he had come to select a 
 bride. 
 
 Sunday evenings, to the young men and maidens, was the one 
 glory of the whole week. It was the time of 
 
 ** Brilliant hopes all woven in gorgeous tissues, 
 Flaunting gayly in the golden light; 
 Large desires with more uncertain issues, 
 Tender wishes blossoming at night." 
 
 Bearded and beardless aspirants for connubial honors combed 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 57 
 
 the manes of the horses, put on the new harnesses, arranging with 
 their own hands the gay rosettes at the ears. They spread buffaloes 
 over the backs of the sleighs, tastefully arranging the scarlet In- 
 dian borders. They fastened the strings of noisy bells and sped 
 away, listening to their pleasant tintinnabulations. 
 
 Nothing in Nature appeared unusual. The Sunday evening 
 moon shed silver rays ; Sunday evening stars shone calm and holy ; 
 Sunday evening parlors, warmed and bright, conservatories of all 
 blooming graces, appeared to be w^aiting for their evening bells. 
 From one end of the town to the other, glistening runner tracks 
 shot across each other, weaving the gossamer web of hope and 
 trust. Rosy girls received their expectant lovers at the doors as 
 usual ; but within, a sort of subtle, indefinable change chilled the 
 evening enjoyment. Hopes seemed poised on uncertain wings, 
 torturing the precious hours. Allusions to the protracted meeting 
 were frequent, — the annoying coolness might be attributed to that. 
 So thought the young farmers who found this evening differing 
 widely from its predecessors ; never dreaming that the magician 
 who had poured gall into their cups of nectar, was a Southern 
 slave-driver in search of a bride. Witches were evidently in the 
 air — the elfish creatures w^ere covertly distiUing wormwood dur- 
 ing their frantic moonlight revels. 
 
 Fanny Beame read her Bible that Sunday morning in the room 
 with Richard and her mother. Thoughts occupied her mind of 
 those who could not I'ead its pages — of those who bowed to idols 
 in distant lands. A strong desire to become one of that "self- 
 denying band " who wander 
 
 " to the farthest verge 
 Of the green earth, to distant barbarous climes," 
 
 as messengers of mercy, was daily gaining strength. This wish 
 was expressed to her brother, and also the troublesome doubts 
 of her ability to reach the coveted goal of missionary labor. 
 
 Richard soothingly replied, that if India or Birmah were to be 
 the scene of her future labors, and if the offering of herself should 
 prove acceptable to Him who guides us all, He would open a path 
 for her feet in due time. Fanny's troubled look wandered over the 
 waste of snow. She seemed only to behold Juggernaut crushing 
 
58 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 hapless victims, and pagodas filled with heathen gods. Mrs. 
 Beame canght the expression of commiseration, and said, — 
 
 " Banish this idea from your thoughts. There are heathen 
 enough in our own country — heathen at our very doors." 
 
 Richard replied for his sister. — 
 
 "We are commanded to 'preach the gospel to every creature ;* 
 and I must say, dear mother, that the wants of heathen lands have 
 seriously impressed my own mind." 
 
 "Well, my son, learn first all that the schools teach of the mys- 
 teries of God and man ; then let me hear if your sermons show how 
 to follow Christ on earth. If so, then your services will be required 
 in your own land, as much as in Asia. India has one Juggernaut — 
 America has man}'. There is the old tavern at the corner. One 
 stands on the river bank turned by a water-wheel. Another rolls 
 its bloody wheels, dripping with human gore, through the Slave 
 States ; and the Hindoo Shastra with its atrocious American cruel- 
 ties is deduced from our Bible, and incorporated in our Constitu- 
 tion." 
 
 "Ah, mother! if I study theology with you I shall be hung be- 
 fore your eyes for my pains. After taking the course at Andover, 
 I shall be able to handle the proper tools for the pulling down of 
 these strongholds." 
 
 "Time will show, Richard;" then, turning to Fanny, she pro- 
 posed that her missionary labors commence immediately, as Susan, 
 Henry's wife, was to all intents and purposes in a heathen condi- 
 tion. She should visit her with a basket of comforts. 
 
 The Scotch plaid pelisse and the blue silk hood were in imme- 
 diate requisition. Carrying a basket well filled, containing also her 
 little Polyglot Bible, Fanny was soon on the way. Gilded pagodas 
 took the form of rough slab cabins, and the Ganges lay a frozen, 
 harmless river along her path. Cocoa-nuts and palms turned to 
 shivering oaks with clusters of dried leaves, rustling in the breeze. 
 Down in the valley, rising the brow of a hill, hidden by hemlocks, 
 out in the glade, listening to the crunching snow, and fondling the 
 shaggy head of Winter, her Newfoundland, she was soon at Susan's 
 door. The small dwelling was on the south side of a hill, a few 
 rods from the river. It seemed to have sprung up in the forest, 
 like a toad-stool at the foot of tall, naked trees. Craggy branches 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 59 
 
 overhead rattled against and interlocked with each other in the 
 fierce winds, like huge antlers of contesting stags. The cove 
 spread out before it in a broad, glassy sheet of ice ; and regardless 
 of holy time, the lithe, swaying skaters were upon it. 
 
 Fanny knocked at the rude door, and received a most affection- 
 ate welcome. Susan gave her the best chair ; looked at her feet, 
 if perchance they might be wet; drew off the bootees and placed 
 them to dry. The children leaned on her lap, and looked up joy- 
 ously in her face. 
 
 " How nice you look here, Susan," said Fanny, 
 
 " I'm glad you think so ; I try to do my best." 
 
 " So you do, Susan. Mother sent you something in the basket. 
 Let us see what." 
 
 Susan sat down by her. Fanny took out the articles. 
 
 "I can never repay your mother for her remembrance of me," 
 said Susan. "Here's clothes for the children and me. See, my 
 feet are out, and here's new bootees, and food besides; just what 
 I needed." 
 
 " My mother does all with a free will, and she bade me ask if 
 you have bed covering enough for these cold nights." 
 
 " I am sorry to have it to say that we need more ; but I can't 
 ask it of Mrs. Beame." 
 
 "Why not, Susie.? I will bring it. Your arms are always full 
 of washings, both ways, when you go to the village." 
 
 Willie chimed in, " I s'eep told, Mish Fanny." 
 
 She caught him up on her knees, gave him a frolicsome toss, 
 and bade him say his verse. 
 
 " Supper lily chilen come me," he Hsped, laughing gayly. 
 
 " Say the rest;" and she gave him a kiss. "For of such," 
 
 " Such kinnum Heben ; " and then, with a loud, triumphant 
 laugh, he threw his arms about her neck. 
 
 Susan begged her visitor to take supper with her, saying mer- 
 
 " I'll give you some of my rye bread, and some ham left from that 
 you brought me before, with a few eggs from my fowls. I will finish 
 with tea and brown sugar. Will that do ? I can get it ready while 
 you teach the children. Say yes, Fanny, it will give me so much 
 pleasure." 
 
6o WHTIE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "Yes Susan ! it will give me pleasure also — only, I cannot think 
 it right to diminish your scanty store." 
 
 Addie brought her book, read her lesson in one syllable, and 
 said her verses. Fanny read over the next lesson to her litile pupil, 
 and heard Willie's A, B, Shee's. Tea was ready ! Susie had 
 three earthern plates, one whole cup and saucer for her guest, and 
 a broken one for herself. There were two knives, one wiihout a 
 handle, and one fork — but every thing had a wholesome neatness 
 about it. The bit of plain home-spun table cloth was white as frost 
 and rain could make it. Susie served the plates from the bright old 
 sauce-pan on the stove, which in its turn was cracked in various 
 directions. The rye bread was excellent : a small bovv'l of apple- 
 sauce, made from a pocket-full of apples that Henry brought home, 
 served for dessert. 
 
 The children ate contentedlv their mush and molasses, placed on 
 wooden trenchers, each having a piece of ham of the size of a dol- 
 lar, for a relish, and an occasional sip of tea from Fanny's prof- 
 fered cup. 
 
 Winter ate a dry crust with evident enjovment, and with much 
 wagging of his plumy tail — although he would have sniffed his nose 
 disdainfully at so humble an entertainment at home. 
 
 Fanny brought out the little Bible, saying," Nov/ Susie, shall I 
 read ?" 
 
 "Yes, I believe the Bible when you read. It seems like a bit of 
 Heaven come in at my door, just as the sunlight comes in on sum- 
 mer days. " 
 
 "But Susie," replied Fanny, looking serious, "You know the Bible 
 is the word of God, whoever reads it. " 
 
 "I don't think so. I heard it once in Cloudspire meeting-house, 
 and it appeared as if God and man both mocked at my color. I 
 came home worse than I went. When I go to wash and iron at 
 these church people's houses, they call me to hear the Bible, and 
 prayers, and then pay me in old things worn threadbare ; as if 
 Bibles and prayers were meat and drink. But I can't live, and 
 keep my children alive on them. " 
 
 " Susan, they do not know how destitute you are. They would 
 scarcely believe me, if I told them " 
 
 "Why don't they know? — as well as Mrs. Beame and Fanny 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 6l 
 
 Beame? I never saw a white woman's face in my house, and speak- 
 ing to me as if I was human, but yourself and your mother. They 
 know the wants of savages thousands of miles off, v/hy not know 
 mine .<* If I lived in Africa, and was a v.ild Gollah, I should have 
 fine ladies and G^entlemen at mv service." Then she laughed con- 
 temptously, and said, '* Such a religion is ridiculous." But she 
 requested Fanny to read on, saying, " I believe in you and your 
 Bible." 
 
 Fanny, between her mother and Susan, was taught some hard 
 lessons that day; but her faith in the "stated means of grace," and 
 the " ordinances of the church," was yet unshaken. These lessons, 
 like some seeds, Vv'ere to lie dormant for years before germination. 
 
 Winter and his young mistress took another route home, in order 
 to call on old black Letty, as the people called her. They ran, 
 jumped, and slid upon and beside a half frozen riband of a brook 
 looking for " shiners " in the open pools. Letty's house was set in 
 a ravine, betv/een tv/o pebbly ridges rising higher than its chimney. 
 
 It was built of slabs with bark on, and one side of it burrowed in 
 the gravel bank. Two small v/indows looked into the other bank, 
 not a tree or bush grew near it ; and the only loving, lovable thing 
 in the ravine was the purl and babble of the tiny brook running 
 through. It v;ould have green velvet borders, spangled with early 
 dandelions ; and it would give its cup of cold water to the cowslip. 
 It never despised labor. It washed, and blued, and sprinkled, and 
 clear-starched with the other inhabitants of the gorge ; it was part 
 and parcel with them. 
 
 The ground on which her poor hut stood was leased to them by a 
 godless, profane old sinner, in the teeth of the strongest remon- 
 strance and indignation of the respectable part of the community, all 
 of whom he shocked with a blasphemous indifference to their object- 
 ions. 
 
 "Damn it! let 'em live," said he, "I expect they are God's crit- 
 ters, they wont make you black." 
 
 But in cooler moments he compromised the matter, by locating 
 the building out of sight of the road, giving the poor outcasts two 
 glass windows, to admit what no one cared to stay, the light of the 
 heavens. 
 
 Aunt Letty held Fanny's hand for some moments, brushed back 
 
62 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 her wide cap border, saying, "I believe you are my girl, you don't 
 forget me. Sit down my child. Did you bring your Bible .?" 
 
 " Yes, Auntie, and that 's all I brought to-day. I came to see 
 how you get on. Do you want anything?" 
 
 " Oh, I'm in a peck of trouble ! Squire Flinn sent Lizzy to jail 
 'cause she had too much drink when his wife wanted her to wash." 
 
 " Why, he sells rum himself, in his store ; and his own son Alonzo 
 died from hard drinkins:." 
 
 " True, he sold it to her himself ; but we are all black, Fanny. I 
 don't know w-hat to do. They say she'll stay there three months. 
 I can manage the washing at home, if I could get the ' biler ' 
 mended, it leaks so." 
 
 " Let Nancy's Jim bring it down to our house to-morrow ; Richard 
 can mend it. He mended something for mother, the other day. 
 Can you get wood, and keep warm .?" 
 
 " That side of the house in the bank is warm ; but the slabs is 
 warped on the nor'west side, the wind blows through there power- 
 fully, and the snow too." 
 
 " I will bring some strips of old cotton cloth to paste over the 
 cracks ; and I saved a large roll of paper for you, that came off from 
 our rooms. I will bring that with a pail of paste, and help you put it 
 on. Richard will give Jim something to go in the woods, and drag 
 out dead branches for you. That old man that swears so, owns the 
 woods ; w^on't he let you have it ?"' 
 
 " He knows we get dead wood there, winters, he leases the hollow 
 to us.'- 
 
 After a moment or two, Fanny spoke up, " Auntie Letty, I've just 
 thought, I can tell Mary Canby to send you a bushel of rye. I 
 shall see her at protracted meeting. You know her father is dead, 
 and she can do as she likes with her share of the grain ; she is 
 eighteen now." 
 
 "That would be a great help : it would keep off hunger a good 
 many days ; but I must ask you for one thing more. Have you 
 anything to cover my shoulders, when I stand down to the brook 
 rinsing clothes, and when I sit here ? Rheumatics pester me in 
 my old age." 
 
 " Yes, Aunt Letty. IMother laid by my green cloak with fur 
 round it. Now you must think of me when you wear it, won't you.** 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 6^ 
 
 I will bring you some tobacco too. Have you any ? " 
 
 '• No, my darling ! I'm a most crazy for a smoke ; but I haint a 
 cent in the world," 
 
 " How many caps have you now ?" 
 
 " This one on my head," said Aunt Letty, laughing. 
 
 " Then I will make you two this week."' 
 
 Fanny read the seventy-first and seventy-second Psalms, com- 
 menting upon the verse, " P'or he shall deliver the needy when he 
 crieth ; the poor also, and him that hath no helper." She also re- 
 marked upon the prayer of David ; " Cast me not off in the time of 
 old age ; forsake me not when my strength faileth ;" and concluded, 
 " He is good. Aunt Letty; if you can trust Him, it will be a com- 
 fort to you." 
 
 The sun swung low in the west. Winter and Fanny hurried 
 home. Mrs. Beame called her daughter to her knee, as she had 
 done for years past, at the Sabbath evening sunset hour. Fanny 
 was slight in figure, and not burdensome. The details of Susie's 
 supper entertained both listeners. Rye bread, broken crockery, and 
 even the lame old sauce-pan, appeared dipt in rainbow hues, as 
 seen through her description. Mrs. Beame drew Fanny to herself, 
 speaking in a low voice ; "My daughter! do you know I think your 
 supper with Susie was a sacrament, a re7nembrance of your Lord 2 " 
 
 "No, mother, the sacrament is partaken in the church ; it should 
 be blessed and distributed by the minister and deacons. None but 
 Christians are admitted to communion." 
 
 "I know that is the custom," replied the mother kindly, smooth- 
 ing the brown hair ; " but customs are not religion. Remember, I 
 call that supper more holy and acceptable, than many of those 
 communions, so ostentatiously commemorated in churches." 
 
 " Now sing with me my favorite hymn in this twilight ; " and for 
 more than the hundredth time, their voices blended in the dear 
 old melody, — 
 
 " Alas ! and did my Savior bleed ? 
 And did my Sovereign die ? 
 Would He devote that sacred head 
 For such a worm as I ? 
 
 Was it for crimes that I had done 
 He groaned upon the tree ? 
 
64 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Amazing pity ! grace unknown ! 
 And love beyond degree ! 
 
 Fanny and Richard had learned ev^ery word of it from the mother's 
 lips long ago. At its close, they observed a strange look of calm 
 on the usually spirited face. A solemn hush pervaded the room, as 
 if the group were in the immediate presence of Calvary's Cross. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE Northern mail had just come in. All Charleston was 
 astir. A pile of letters was laid upon the desk in the office 
 of Kershaw & Lewis, factors. These contained orders and re- 
 quests of all kinds from England, Scotland, France, Italy, and every 
 other resting-place of the wandering pleasure- seekers from the opu- 
 lent homes of South Carolina. The increasing hum of business, 
 on East Bay, had culminated in a tornado of noise, crashing over 
 the pavements with a deafening din. The hand of the senior part- 
 ner held an open letter, while both awaited a lull in the tempest of 
 cotton laden drays. 
 
 He ran over the contents silently, and exclaimed ; " He's coming 
 now — Ralph will be here the last of March, dangers of the sea ex- 
 cepted; — tardy a month." 
 
 '' Coming then, at last ! " replied the other; " he was to have writ- 
 ten his orders weeks ago from New York." 
 
 "New York is another Paris, you know, — young blood is up. 
 See here ! we must be doing. City house to be opened, servants 
 to be bought, the larder filled, carriage and horses to be in readi- 
 ness. He takes passage on the sailing packet ' Sumter '." 
 
 " A proud day for Haywood," said Mr. Lewis, " when he steps 
 from the ' Sumter ' upon his native soil, to fill his father's place in 
 sustaining the rights of our superb old State." 
 
 " True, sir ; and a proud day for Carolina when she welcomes 
 back, and enrolls among her noble sons, the name of Ralph Hay- 
 wood. Never an ignoble stain has fallen upon the laurels of his 
 ancestry." 
 
 Aye, aye ! His character has the old Roman ring. A second 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 65 
 
 Horatius. His towering strength will easily cope with any three 
 of those rabid abolition Curatii, forcing them to bite the dust. 
 How much time for filling orders ? 
 
 " Three weeks. That is short enough. Now for the memo- 
 randa. First, servants ; how many .'* We must look about for A 
 No. I's." 
 
 *' ' Bram ,' the old family coachman, will have the horses in charge. 
 He will handle any pair ; let him remain. His, wife, old Jane, is 
 washer. She will suit her young master's caprices better than 
 another." 
 
 "Well then," replied the other, pencil in hand. " Say cook, but- 
 ler, footman, chambermaid, and gardener. His body servant will 
 arrive with him. Ralph will manage to put the chains on him 
 agam ; although you know March and Ralph had the same 
 father." 
 
 " Yes," answered Mr. Kershaw : " and apropos to this matter, I 
 just noticed in the Courier a chambermaid for sale. Here it is : 
 
 By A. Tobias, on Tuesday next, precisely at ten o'clock, will be sold before 
 my store, without reserve, a Likely Mulatto Wench, a good seamstress and 
 house servant. The above servant may be treated for at private sale previous 
 to Tuesday next. 
 
 "Look sharp! You are aware what points will satisfy our 
 patron. And here's another advertisement." 
 
 UNDER DECREE IN EQUITY. 
 
 Will be sold at the Custom House on Tuesday, three negroes — Andrew, 
 aged 40, a well-trained butler. John, aged 45, a complete gardener ; and Ha- 
 gar, aged 20, a valuable house servant. 
 
 Terms : For the negroes, one-half cash ; balance in bonds, payable with in- 
 terest one year from date, secured by a mortgage of the property, with personal 
 security, if required. James W. Bruin, 
 
 Com. in Equity. 
 
 " There now ; if these answer, we have all but the footman, and 
 cook. Can buy a prime boy at any auction sale, but a cook must 
 be provided of warranted character." 
 
 " Next, the horses. Old ' Kentuck ' brings a drove over the 
 mountains from his own State, next week. Told me he should 
 bring a pair of chestnuts fit for the carriage of a prince, — fifteen 
 
66 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 hands high ; fiery and elegant ; price one thousand dollars. Better 
 purchase soon, that Bram may have them well in hand when his 
 master lands." 
 
 " I observed also," replied the other factor, " that a new invoice 
 of carriages has arrived from New York — must make that selection 
 intime for the horses. The supplies for the house are mere trifles. 
 Bjtter direct the liquors purchased at Vieil &: Petray's, the French 
 importers." 
 
 It was near nightfall, when the " Sumter " stood outside the bar, 
 looking over the perilous gateway into the bay, lying between her- 
 self and the city. Blinding rain swept her shining deck. Angry 
 waves ran like hissing serpents along the shallow sands. Grim, 
 murky clouds rushed down to the very waters, as if seeking a hand 
 to hand contest with the billows. The gale blew heavy and fierce; 
 a fleet of small fishing craft scud through the yeasty foam like sea- 
 gulls, beating landward. 
 
 " No pilot to-night ! " roared the captain ; " we shall May to,' out- 
 side." Raising his trumpet to his lips, he hailed the last boat, and 
 bade that word be carried to " Kershaw & Lewis," on East Bay, 
 that the " Sumter " would be at the wharf at sunrise. 
 
 March stood at his post near Greylock. The spirited creature 
 was worn by the long voyage from Europe, and now became fretted 
 into ill humor by the persistent, aggravating roll of the vessel. 
 March examined the girths and supports that kept the Arabian on 
 his feet. When a sudden lurch of the vessel caused him to lean 
 heavily against the padded sides of his stall, he smoothed the 
 silken flanks with a petting caress, stroked the mane gently, or 
 patted the straining nostrils. 
 
 " Most home, my beautv, most home ! " At the sound of 
 his voice, Greylock's hopeless eye caught a gleam of brightness. 
 In the lulls of motion, the strong hand of the watcher passed down 
 the trembling limbs of the imprisoned animal. Then he broke the 
 silence by talking: "Tired feet will rest again, plenty of green 
 turf, and soft sands this side the A-tlantic. Patience, boy, patience. 
 I'll lead you to a gentler hand than mine." Improvising verse and 
 melody, he sang, — 
 
 *' Flora's glossy curls of jet 
 Shall lean against your mane, my pet ; 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 67 
 
 Greylock's fiery eye will tame, 
 When my Flora calls his name," 
 
 Ralph, accustomed from his cradle to see all obstacles to his im- 
 perious will removed by others, or to overcome such obstructions 
 himself, was thoroughly exasperated at beholding the liquid barrier 
 between him and his destination. The insolence of those break- 
 ers, jeering in their thundering gambols at him and the captain, 
 was taunting to the highest degree. Their sarcastic contempt for 
 any allegiance to man savored too strongly of freedom for his arbi- 
 trary will. So, after some futile ebullitions of anger, seasoned with 
 high-toned oaths, drinking and smoking, he " turned in " for the 
 night. 
 
 March had commands to stand by Greylock while the packet 
 rolled ; and as we have seen, faithfully executed those orders. 
 Keeping the w^atches of the stormy night so near the land of 
 slavery, revived all its bitter associations. A wilder and fiercer 
 symphony swept the chords of his being than the piping of the 
 mad wdnds outside, among the wet shrouds. The weird plantation 
 songs of the past that forevef moaned through the fields and wood- 
 lands, surged up among his memories w^ith almost supernatural 
 power. The creaking of ropes, and the rattling of anchor chains 
 suggested hand-cuffs, and slave gangs. The snapping of the 
 streamer in the wind at the main-top, brought to mind the pain- 
 ful, but familiar sound of the lash. 
 
 He stood up erect, as if the better to sustain the terrible pres- 
 sure upon him. The left hand clasped an upright plank of the 
 stall, above his head. His w^hite shirt sleeves were rolled to the 
 elbow. His right hand, large and well-formed, rested upon his hip. 
 Above the medium height, his broad shoulders and muscular figure 
 were developed into a faultless symmetry. An observer would 
 have felt an instinctive admiration for the sculptured repose of his 
 attitude, and the kingly calm resting on his features. He ques- 
 tioned himself. 
 
 "Why did I return to America? France, Paris, freedom and 
 manhood, all are back over the waters. I have left them forever. 
 Why take upon myself again this terrible bondage ? Why stretch 
 out my hands voluntarily, for manacles that lead to the sham- 
 bles ? To be classed with Greylock ; to be bought and sold with 
 
^8 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 cattle ; to be counted with senseless chattels ; to be the creature 
 of a master's power like a spaniel at his feet? Yes, I am black. 
 This color was a matter of Gods's omnipotent pleasure — not 
 mine ! " 
 
 Casting his eyes into the pitchy night ; he went on. "One half 
 of all Time is black — black night. Only one half of life is wiiite 
 day. The black night is Time, nevertheless. I am a man, never- 
 theless. What is that one drop of honey in this bitter cup, for 
 which my soul thirsted, for which I was willing to barter all 
 else ? " An indescribable look of tenderness softened the dark, 
 calm eyes. "Cruel thought! What is liberty to me without my 
 dear Flora ? I would cross a thousand oceans, wear manacles and 
 chains, or endure the heaviest stripes for her sake — for my pre- 
 cious wife who turned from the most fascinating temptations that 
 man can devise, to my poor love." 
 
 The last farewell, so long since taken, flashed up before his 
 vision. He recalled the rich crimson of the flushed cheeks, with 
 tears upon them, like deep crimson roses wet with the plash of 
 rain-drops. He remembered the dark coral lips, trembling with 
 the burden they, could not utter ; and he felt the pressure of the 
 fond arms that would fain have held him for aye. 
 
 Greylock was lonely ; he whinnied low and pitifully, like a ne- 
 glected child. The swash of the waves again filled the ear of 
 Slarch. " Still at sea," he said, and went on soothing his com- 
 panion. The climax of his hour of agony melted away before the 
 love he bore Flora. She was the sun of his blank existence, and 
 she had arisen full above the horizon of his sickening future. The 
 rays of her love gilded the grave of his manhood, which his own 
 hands had prepared. March Haywood was a slave again. 
 
 He fell to improvising,, mournfully crooning his lines, interrupted 
 only by the spectral shadows of the sailors silently gliding to and 
 fro. He took up the broken thread of his idyl to Greylock, the 
 substance of which is embodied as follows : 
 
 Flora, darling, waits for me, 
 Flora waits for me and thee ; 
 Nothing but this stormy bar, 
 Keeps me from my love so far. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 69 
 
 Dear to me is Slavery's chain, 
 So it leads to thee again ; 
 Sweet to me are prison walls, 
 When within, my Flora calls. 
 
 All these long and absent years, 
 Haunted through by cruel fears, 
 I kept the look of thy sweet face. 
 Fresh as in our last embrace. 
 
 Human vultures sweeping o'er. 
 Clutch at my low cabin door; 
 If my lamb be snatched awa}', 
 Woe to me, O God ! that day. 
 
 Then the trader's flying trail — 
 Then the block — the auction sale ; 
 All the tears of cruel awe 
 None but Master Jesus saw. 
 
 Bless thy letters ! precious things ! 
 White as sea-fowl's snowy wings. 
 They came o'er the stormy sea. 
 Bringing hope and peace for me. 
 
 All that writing seemed aglow 
 With a love that hushed my woe, 
 When they read. Thy curls of jet 
 Waited, waited for me yet. 
 
 Listen, Flora, to the breeze, 
 Creeping through the piny trees; 
 Listen to the news they bear, 
 When they lift your rings of hair. 
 
 They will whisper, March has come, 
 Never more from you to roam : 
 This, young master promised me. 
 O'er the blue Atlantic sea. 
 
 Darkness fled at the approach of one of those beautiful dawns 
 born from Southern waters. A majestic tide had engulfed the 
 hissing breakers of the previous night, and still rolled landward, 
 invoking the "Sumter" with its deep-mouthed voice to ride west- 
 ward into the bay on its sun-gilded billows. The pavilion of the 
 rising sun, borne to the very edge of the Eastern Ocean, rested on 
 
70 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 the rim of the waters, awaiting, apparently, his royal will. He had 
 not yet stepped forth upon his azure path up the heavens ; the 
 glory within, lined and fringed the ash-colored curtains of velvet 
 cloud that still screened his presence. Borders of dazzling orange 
 and translucent amber folds rose against the sky, and spread a 
 golden radiance over the broad expanse of eastern waves. 
 
 Dancing pilot boats offered friendly aid, and thus convoyed, the 
 the " Sumter ■' brought to the quay the returned scion of one of 
 the noble families. 
 
 Bram, in the dignity of a green livery and silver-laced hat, held 
 the chestnut span in hand close to the gang-plank. 
 
 The newly purchased footman, Dick, a springy brown boy of 
 about fifteen, held the carriage door, steps down, for his new 
 master. 
 
 The blue satin curtains of the carriage, fringed and tasseledwith 
 white, waved a welcome to their proud owner. The horses cur- 
 vetted and threw foam on the bv standers. 
 
 Slaves of all shades doffed hats to the " young massa jes done 
 trabel." Old maumas with gay turbaned heads, and baskets on 
 their arms, dropped respectful courtesies on all sides of the car- 
 riage. Some dear old aunties, who had been taught Sabbath days 
 from the enlightened pulpit, and on week days by the whip- lash, 
 that the white race was formed in the wisdom of God, especially to 
 enslave the African, ejaculated heartily and piously, '' De Lord 
 bress ye ! " 
 
 Bram, who had driven " heaps ob de Carliny lady and gen- 
 tleums," was highly elated at being once more officially reinstated. 
 Drawing up the reins in his white gloves, he espied a small piece 
 of ebony and ivory "scrape de foot " at him facetiously; where- 
 upon he gave the tiny jester a touch of the snapper of his whip, 
 and the low-spoken but high-toned warning, " Get out de way, 
 dere, 3'ou s'nitican' nigger ! " 
 
 The carriage dashed forward across the Bay, through Meeting 
 into Broad street, and drew up before the iron ancestral gate. 
 Massive high stuccoed walls concealed the yard, garden, and half 
 the house from view. It had the air of a prison ; and a stranger 
 would have called it so, except for the other walled-in residences 
 everywhere seen. Here and there along the top of this grim en- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 7 1 
 
 closure clusters of pink and purple bloom peered into the sunshine, 
 hinting at the paradise within. Through the iron gate, held by 
 Dick, along the black and white diamond walk, up the flight of 
 broad white marble steps, with March following closely after, the 
 young master found himself in the lower hall, encountering a small 
 regiment of bows and courtesies from his assembled servants. 
 Dick ascended the staircase with Ralph, and ushered him into his 
 own apartments. 
 
 " Send March to me," said Ralph. " Lay the breakfast at ten." 
 
 The windows of his chamber opened to the floor : the cool, 
 shaded piazza invited him out. A colonnade of white fluted pillars 
 rose against the blue day. Between these were seen gleams of the 
 Ashley river, and the feathery tops of island pines beyond. 'J'he 
 left corner of the house wore upon its shoulder a trailing mantle of 
 dark green English ivy. Climbing roses looked over the balus- 
 trade between the pillars, or swung in sprays carelessly therefrom. 
 Below, a parterre cut into shell walks, and gay with many-hued 
 flowers, still glittered resplendent with its dew-drop jewelry. John, 
 the new gardener, bought at auction before the Custom House, 
 proved a fine investment. Well-shorn hedges extended their vel- 
 vet walls each side of the marble walk from the gate to the house, 
 and along the divisions of the grounds. The exuberant foliage of 
 the trees seemed perennial — not a fallen leaf littered the shell 
 paths beneath. 
 
 Ralph's mind was running along the links of old associations, 
 when March, stepping to a respectful distance at his side, said, •' I 
 am here sir." 
 
 " Wash and dress me for breakfast." 
 
 March bathed and dressed the master with the care of a parent 
 for a child, with a deftness and celerity that made the toilet no 
 interruption to Ralph's flow of thought. His cogitations went on 
 in a turbulent elementary chaos. Kaleidoscopic views revolved 
 swiftly. Grace, marriage, crops, plantations, club-houses, summer 
 tours, Newport, hounds, Paris, Greylock and Flora slid into mar- 
 velous figures, and glided into other forms as quickly. 
 
 Intently absorbed, he stood like an automaton, receiving from his 
 valet the last touches of neatness. The only trouble March had 
 with him, was in drawing on one of his boots which was entirely 
 
72 WHTIE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 too small. A sudden kick threw it out of March's hands, and 
 across the room. 
 
 " Damnation, March ! do you know who I am ? Draw that boot 
 on easier, or — I'll send you to Hades!" 
 
 A dash of carriage wheels and a sharp ring at the gate, ushered in 
 Lewis Dentelle, oE Savannah, Georgia. Three steps at a bound, 
 up into the dressing-room he tore. He laid a light tap of his cane 
 on Ralph's shoulder with the familiar greeting, — 
 
 " There, truant 1 By Jove ! you're home again at last. Heard you 
 came in the ' Sumter.' Put the horses over the course to arrest 
 )^our Fiench Highness, before you might go out." 
 
 " Haven't got in, yet," replied Ralph, '' but I'm deuced glad to see 
 you. Lew. I feel the loss of Paris already. Ah ! that's the jewel 
 
 of cities," 
 
 " How does Charleston look to you now, Haywood ?" 
 
 " It looks as if I had arrived in a young desert just planted with 
 a few houses and nursery trees. It is too small and huttish. Why 
 don't they pull down these wooden hovels on every street, and build 
 up with suitable structures?" 
 
 " What structures, Ralph ? such as Les Tuillcnes, Notre Dame, 
 etc.? When we secede, and set up a throne, we can remodel 
 Charleston royally, a la Parish 
 
 "Three cheers for that sentiment," replied Ralph enthusiastically. 
 " Come down to breakfast, Lew, ensuite, ?wiis vcnwis ; then, lifted on 
 the exhilarating aroma of our Habanas, let our souls commingle." 
 
 At the table, March took his accustomed place at the back of 
 Ralph's chair, pointing Dick to the chair of Dentelle. The silver 
 breakfast service and fine old porcelain of the former household, 
 graced the occasion. 
 
 Andrew, the butler, brought in fresh fish from the bar, venison 
 from the forest, duck from the marshes, eggs, corn-cake, and the 
 ever-present dishes of rice and hominy. This old servant's move- 
 ments forward or backward were one continued series of obsequious 
 bowings and scrapings. He was the very essence of humility ; 
 ofien saying he was only " de dus' ob de eart j not fittin' for white 
 man to wipe he foot on." 
 
 March served his master's plate at the side table and placed it 
 before him. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 73 
 
 "Take that cursed plate hence ! bring venison and duck with rice. 
 Dentelle, I have been pampered too long, to return to hominy; I 
 object!" 
 
 " Well, I swear Ralph, that same hominy is the breath of my life. 
 In Germany, at the University, I ordered barrels of it from Sa- 
 vannah. Students called me the Bald Eagle, because I fed on 
 American white sand, as they termed hominy." 
 
 " Try this duck, Dentelle ; it lacks the old, delicious flavor, some- 
 what ; cooked too soon. Andrew, how long since the ducks were 
 shot ?" 
 
 Bringing back his foot, and bowing profoundly," Tree day, sah j 
 couldn't say 'cisely when de ship come in." 
 
 "Hereafter, let the duck hang till the neck is ready to part, and 
 the joints yield to the slightest touch. That's the kind of living 
 for an epicure ; hear ?" 
 
 " Heah, sah? Yes, sah," bowing again. 
 
 Dentelle, with a loud laugh, asked Andrew if he was born in the 
 Court of France ? 
 
 " Neber see France, sah j born Gollah country; king fam'ly, sah." 
 
 "What brought you here with your Court manners?" 
 
 "I trabel, sah j" a scrape and a bow; "see dis big country, and 
 de gran' masser." 
 
 " All right. Prince Andrew, bring your best from the wine room," 
 said Haywood ; Madeira, sherry and brandy. Read the names, old 
 fellow ?" 
 
 Bowing, and drawing back his foot, — 
 
 " Yes, sah. Marsa Peyton larn me in old Virginny." 
 
 " It is against the laws of South Carolina and Georgia for you to 
 read." 
 
 " Dunno, sah, I read for de gentleums ; don' read for self." 
 
 " What can you read ? the abolition papers ? That's dangerous 
 work." 
 
 " No, sah, I reads de barrel and de demijohn ; reads wine, 'Dary, 
 shary whisky, brandy. Tuk long time to larn, sah. Marse Peyton 
 take de black whip, den I larns de English, sah." 
 
 " How do you read wine ?" interrupted Dentelle. 
 
 " Lettle word, sah. Begins wid two wine glass techin' de rims, 
 when de marsa drink health." 
 
74 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " How do you read Madeira?" 
 
 " Long word, begin wid a leetle garden gate, and hab star ober 
 him." 
 
 ** Sherry ?" said Ralph. 
 
 A low bow and hands clasped over his white apron ; " Begin wid 
 de rattlesnake, sah, an' eend wid de fox-tail." 
 
 " Brandy ? you college-learned cuss." 
 
 "Begin with fat ole mauma, and eend widde fox-tail." 
 
 " All right, Prince Andrews, go to your books in the wine room, 
 and bring as ordered." 
 
 A smart pull at the bell preceded the clattering of canes and 
 brisk heels up the sidewalk, — six figures .darkened the dining-room 
 door. Hilarious greetings and noisy mirth followed. 
 
 "Ten thousand pardons, Haywood, for this apparent neglect." 
 
 " No apologies are needed, gentlemen," replied Ralph. "I am 
 hardly in a condition for companionship myself. After a few hours 
 of recuperation, I shall be able to hold my own with you." 
 
 Andrew just then placed the wine upon the table, of which all 
 partook freely. The clinking of glasses chimed with repeated 
 demonstrations of welcome. Sentiments were offered and boister- 
 ously drank to common objects of interest ; to Carolina, king Cotton, 
 Free Trade, and State Rights, subjects ever upon Southern lips. 
 
 In the midst of these bacchanals, the light step of a woman 
 crossed the piazza. She was of brown complexion, tall, slender, 
 and wavy-haired. Timid parted lips and snowy teeth enhanced her 
 charms. A thread of scarlet velvet bound her head, corals 
 depended from her small ears. Her tasteful dress and white apron 
 fluttered quietly past. Not an eye missed the vision. 
 
 " That was a handsome purchase ;" said one. " Buy her here, 
 Ralph ?" 
 
 " Mars ! the goddess Diana couldn't outdo that," said another ; 
 " worth the money, whatever the price !" 
 
 " Want to sell, Haywood ?" said another. " Here's my check for 
 two thousand." 
 
 " I protest against robbery of that kind," interposed a third. 
 Let wood-nymphs, sylphs, and fairies welcome South Carolina's son. 
 " Let us drink to Ralph's exclusive possession, in the sentiment which 
 our poet laureate will offer." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 75 
 
 As readily as a bird carols his vvildwood song, the poet, with glass 
 in hand, repeated, — 
 
 " Drink, comrades, drink ! this Lethean balm 
 Will yield a gallant, generous calm ; 
 Drink to these angels in disguise : 
 Drink deep and drown your tender sighs : 
 Drink to this lovely, dark quadroon, 
 Drink to the vision lost so soon. 
 Drink to her beauty, and his joy, 
 Who holds her charms, so rich and coy. 
 Drink deep to women of all lands ; 
 Caucassian first, for legal bans. 
 Then, drink, with thought and fancy free, 
 To brown, or red, as chance may be ; 
 Drink deep to woman's love — the same, 
 Whate'er the color, race, or name." 
 
 A hearty response followed. Deep draughts sanctioned the 
 sentiment. 
 
 The troop clattred down stairs, out upon the marble walks, 
 leaving the clanking iron gate closed after them, and Ralph to his 
 coveted repose. 
 
 Ralph and Dentelle resumed conversation in a more serious and 
 confidential manner. They lounged in luxuriant easy-chairs drawn 
 upon the piazza, fronting Ralph's chamber. This piazza com- 
 manded the charming river, and James Island beyond, swimming 
 in the delicious haze of a spring morning. The idly sparkling 
 waters of the broad Ashley breathed an indolence in lordly contrast 
 with the busy strife of commerce, which made northern streams the 
 handmaids of industry, and the crowded thoroughfares of enterprise 
 and trade. 
 
 A crystalized silence held the river, the islands, and piny groves, 
 
 No stranger keel ever cleft its blue surface. No strans^er foot 
 unbidden, explored its vassaled shores. The feudalism of the 
 middle ages made a mournful pilgrimage to the New World ; and 
 here had been set up a mutilated idol for the worship of knights 
 untitled, and squires unspurred. There remained to it only its ar- 
 rogance, isolation, and oppression. 
 
 Ralph and Dentelle were as fair representatives of this condition, 
 as could well be found. They were the genuine offspring of a mis- 
 cegenation by the glittering lance of chivalry, and the broad plan- 
 
76 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 tation hoe. They were the true resultant of the barbarism of the 
 past, the Christianity of the present. They had been intimates from 
 the cradle — had hunted deer together through the deep forests of 
 their broad lands. They had traveled together and in divergent 
 ways, till now, they met again on the iron threshold of manhood. 
 
 " So you are married, IDen telle ?" 
 
 " Ah, yes, Ralph, some time ago." 
 
 " What fair being was the honored recipient of your love ? " 
 
 " My love ?" 
 
 " Yes, of course, your love, Dentelle. Surely what other motive 
 would link you for life in the indissoluble bonds of our Southern 
 matrimony } " 
 
 " Your irony hath a sharp edge. There is no lack of motives for 
 marriage. My motive was the reparation of beggared finances. 
 Repeated losses at the races, tables of chance, etc., rendered me 
 nearly bankrupt. Something must be done. I had made some 
 acquaintance in Philadelphia with an old captain of a slaver, for- 
 merly bringing cargoes of negroes to our shores. I took pains to 
 ascertain his abilities to replenish my ruined coffers, and found that 
 bonds, bank shares, and ready money to a satisfactory amount, 
 awaited his only daughter's nuptials. I made haste to air my 
 knightly graces, wooed and won the magnificent dower, and brought 
 my wife triumphantly to Savannah." 
 
 Ralph's brow clouded. " Why go to the North, Dentelle, for a 
 wife? Why bring a bride to sully the blue blood of the proud 
 chivalry of Georgia, by an alliance among the ignoble and base- 
 born?" 
 
 " Not so fast, my friend. To command a slaver, should in our 
 heraldry, be a sufficient reason for conferring blue blood. My fac- 
 tors were harassed with daily demands which could not be answered, 
 and my father frowned." 
 
 " How does she take to our Southern Institution ?" 
 
 " As if she were to the manor born. Mi esposa rara takes off her 
 slipper, and punishes delinquents in genuine Southern style. You 
 should see her wearing her raw hide, and using it too, about the 
 pantries and kitchens." 
 
 " What became of your love alliance with the entrancing octaroon, 
 Isabel ?" 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 77 
 
 " Dentelle answered thoughtfully, — 
 
 " The why, the where, what boots it now to tell ? 
 Since all must end in that wild word — farewell." 
 
 He walked away to the clustering rose-vine clinging to the bal- 
 ustrade, pulled a stem of the tiny yellow things, and twirling them 
 absently in his fingers, came back to Ralph. " My graceful tender 
 Isabel was sold. She could never have endured the knowledge that 
 I was living with another. I did that most grievous act of my life 
 because I could not witness her distress at my apparent abandon- 
 ment. She would not have believed that circumstances made a 
 marriage imperative. Her heart would have broken ; it is all over 
 now. My happiness was bartered for my wife's gold. It is all over, 
 Haywood. I am now fairly entered upon the race of life, married 
 by law, and custom, bound to all Southern issues, an unflinching 
 adversary to Northern aggressions, and a sworn supporter of our 
 Federal Constitution." 
 
 "What are the pressing issues of the hour ? By Jupiter! I also 
 am a true son of the South, and love her to my heart's core. But 
 to emerge from the bower of the Arts, the seat of the Graces, 
 adopted Paris ; to become a Nestor in the sectional contest with the 
 Northern barbarians of the Republic ! I swear it is anything but 
 agreeable." 
 
 With a resolute air, Dentelle stretched forth his hand, and made 
 a gesture of dismissal to such trifles, and replied, — 
 
 " Away with these voluptuous regrets ! The deuce, Ralph, you 
 are made of sterner stuff ! You inherit, nolens vole?is, the virtues, 
 pluck, and integrity of a blooded line. Think of our venerable 
 Agamemnon, our Calhoun ! You can but follow his glorious leader- 
 ship." 
 
 "Well, the impending issues?" demanded Ralph. 
 
 " They are — well ; Free Trade, Nullification, State Rights, Cal- 
 houn's Balance Power of, or Extension of Slave Territory, Coloniza- 
 tion of the Free Negroes, and Abolition. How's that, formidable ? 
 Courage, my friend ! You will soon be initiated. Our whole 
 people are agitated with the discussion of these subjects, like forest 
 leaves in a tornado. Our ladies even, are polished statesmen. At 
 
y8 WHTIE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 a 
 
 every social gathering you will hear words of wisdom droppin 
 from their lips." 
 
 " What about this Free Trade, or Tariff, or what the devil it is 
 called, Dentelle ? " 
 
 "■Mafoi! Ralph, let me explain. The South will have no tarifT. 
 The North and West are encouraging Home manufactures, and 
 insist upon Protection. England is (?7^r great purchaser, and con- 
 sumer. She buys of us over three hundred million pounds of cot- 
 ton a year, of the four hundred and sixty millions we produce, 
 averaging over two hundred pounds exported, to each slave. Now 
 this tariff on British exports, (which, by the wa}-, is mostly received 
 at the North,) will induce retaliatory measures on the part of the 
 English. Retaliation will fall on us. England will not only de- 
 mand a revenue from our cotton, but will be led to look elsewhere 
 for her supplies ; to Egypt, to the West Indies, and to South 
 America. In the language of Mr. Hamilton, of your State, in a 
 speech at the Walterborough dinner, 'unmitigated ruin must be our 
 portion, if this system continues.' " 
 
 '• How stands IMcDuffie on this Northern legislation? " enquired 
 Ralph. 
 
 "Ah, Ralph! South Carolina has political leaders with whose 
 giant stature the Northern and Western States cannot measure 
 strength. IMcDuffie stands shoulder to shoulder with Calhoun. 
 Against this Northern policy of Protection, he has even fought 
 many a duel with its radical advocates. His eagle eye pierces 
 cant and hypocrisy, his voice warns our people that this protective 
 system is intended to precipitate upon us the moral and political 
 catastrophe of the emancipation of our slaves. Hear ! Ralph ! 
 I repeat his prophetic words ; ' Any course of measures which 
 shall hasten the abolition of slavery, by destroying the value of 
 slave labor, will bring upon the Southern States the greatest politi- 
 cal calamity with which they can be afflicted. P^or I sincerely be- 
 lieve, that when the people of these States shall be compelled by 
 such means to emancipate their slaves, they will be but a few de- 
 grees above the condition of the slaves themselves. Yes Sir ; 
 mark what I say! Whenthe people of the South cease to be mas- 
 ters by the tampering influence of this Government, direct or indi 
 rest, thev will assuredlv be slaves. 
 
 > » 
 
WHITE MAY. AND BLACK JUNE. 79 
 
 "Slaves !" cried Ralph. "Preposterous!" His haughty eyes 
 gleamed defiantly. "Slaves!" he cried, starting from his chair, 
 his tall, fine figure looming up ominously. "Slaves! To whom?" 
 as if the North and West lay cowering at his feet, beneath his out- 
 stretched arms. " Slaves to those who, from the first, have sub- 
 mitted their will to ours ? Slaves to those who are already our 
 slaves.'* Ha! ha! ha! by the gods! Slaves to hirelings who till 
 their rocky soil, to send sustenance to our negroes ? Slaves to 
 men whose hostilitv to Constitutional measures embitters every 
 Southern breast? To minions who crouch with repeated com- 
 promises to our demands. Slaves? when, and how? I ask. Let 
 him who dares, answer." 
 
 With vehemence his right hand clutched a silver hilt, and drew 
 a bright blade, quivering to the light, from a hidden sheath. He 
 held it steadily, as for a fatal plunge, and repeated, — 
 
 " I know where I will wear this dagger ! then 
 Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius ! " 
 
 He folded his imperialism gloomily about him, like a Roman 
 garment : with knitted brow, and folded arms he strode stifily back 
 and forth — the Cassius he quoted. His confrere, Brutus, struck by 
 the Roman fire, replied, — 
 
 " If it be aught toward the general good, 
 Set honor in one eye, and death i' the other, 
 And I will look on both, indifferently, 
 For let the gods so speed me, as I love 
 The name of honor, more than I fear death." 
 
 The curtain fell — between the acts they rested, took refresh- 
 ments, smoked and drank. 
 
 " Dentelle, what of Georgia? what of her championship ?" 
 " Aut vincere, ant mori. The pulses of the cotton-growing States 
 throb with the same beat. All deprecate Northern manufactures, 
 and internal improvements. All insist upon the return of the 
 North and West to agriculture, in order to furnish stock and pro- 
 visions for us. Georgia steps to the same music with Carolina j 
 and she has taken one step in advance of your State, Ralph. 
 Georgia has proven valor against that Northern ' Jack o' Lantern ' 
 tiiiif, and a tenacity of purpose, which vv'ill not know defeat." 
 
8o WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "What Step has Georgia taken in advance of South Carolina?" 
 enquired Ralph, whose State pride seemed a little wounded. 
 
 " In a large public concourse, she passed this resolution : 
 
 ^^ ^ Resolved, That to retaliate as far as possible upon our op- 
 pressors, our legislature be requested to impose taxes, amounting 
 to prohibition, on the hogs, horses, mules, and the cotton bagging, 
 whisky, pork, beef, bacon, flax and hemp cloth of the Western, and 
 on all the productions and manufactures of the Eastern and 
 Northern States.'" 
 
 " Bravo ! " cried Ralph. " But tell me, Dentelle, was that 
 Georgia resolution ever carried into practice ? Were these taxes 
 on Northern products ever levied ? " 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha ! No. There was no necessity. But it had its le- 
 gitimate effect, in demonstrating to the supporters of tariff, the kind 
 of temper they would have to deal with. Such acts, with South 
 Carolina's courageous step toward secession, wrung from the Gov- 
 ernment Henry Clay's ' Compromise Tariff.' After we obtained 
 that concession, proposed by the bland Kentuckian, and carried 
 by Congress, which reduces the tariff from forty, to twenty per 
 cent, we were appeased. Thus we triumphed over the Pilgrims ! " 
 
 "And ever shall. Curse their cringing souls!" cried Ralph, 
 between his teeth, and striding excitedly the length of the piazza. 
 "We can mould them as easily as our cooks manipulate dough on 
 the board. They fear us ; and their insipid adulation of a South- 
 erner is disgusting to the last degree. It is patent — in Washing- 
 ton, at the watering places, at hotels, and everywhere. However, 
 it serves our purposes. Too poor themselves, in us they worship 
 means. We travel in Europe. They stay at home and plod. In 
 the enjoyment of our summer leisure, we distribute our gold among 
 them, while they toil and sweat on a par with our slaves. They 
 call this welco77ie a7id subserviency to us; Christian Union, or some 
 such infernal thing. I stigmatize it as base sycophancy." 
 
 "That's the spirit!" answered Dentelle. "You will soon shake 
 off your Parisian lethargy." Then looking at his watch, he re- 
 marked, " But there is a necessity for closing this conversation for 
 the present, as I have an engagement at this hour." 
 
 "An agreeable interview," courteously observed Ralph." "I 
 suppose 1 cannot understand our status too soon." Then grasp 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 8 1 
 
 ing with warmth the hand of his early friend and associate, he 
 bade him a short adieu, till they should meet again at the dinner 
 hour. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 PROTRACTED meeting opened with favorable weather. Ar- 
 rivals from neighboring towns were numerous and encour- 
 aging. Smart young theologians, with a sprinkling of venerable 
 clergy, had reached the scene on the Saturday previous, to lighten 
 the burdens of the resident pastor. The latter superannuated class, 
 grown gray in the service, were skilled anatomists of the soul. 
 They could place a finger on every fibre of the human heart. They 
 could play upon the emotions with the facile skill of a Mozart or a 
 Bethoven, on ivory keys. They buoyed weak souls to life and 
 hope, or dashed them to despair. They settled accounts for the 
 laity with the terrible God, and gave them satisfactory receipts 
 from His upper courts. 
 
 Sleighs of all kinds, with curious varieties of lading, dashed up 
 to the double green doors of the church. Rawny pairs of work- 
 horses tore up, panting, and throwing their heads from side to side, 
 as if they brought the sins of the town. 
 
 The long sheds were at length packed with quaintly painted 
 sleighs, double and single ; bob-sleds add pungs. One looking at 
 the scene, within and without, would say a German ScJmtscnfest 
 had been inaugurated in the wrong era, and blossomed in the 
 wrong season. 
 
 Drifts of Carries, Lotties, Emmas, Minnies, Katies, Lizzies, Bellas, 
 Etties, Amies and 'Rias sifted in around the great box stove. There 
 was a breezy tossing of ribbons, arranging of furs, and sinister 
 glances at others' toilets. Blue eyes, black eyes, and hazel, flashed 
 covertly athwart the square old pews up to the lumbering galleries, 
 in quest of Willies, Charlies, Georges, Thodies, Joes, Sammies and 
 Harries, whose melting orbs were reciprocally prepared for this 
 expected battery. Magnetic influences quivered in the air at this 
 early opening hour, which already auspiciously bore a confused 
 semblance to the very gate of Heaven. 
 
82 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 There came also, in quilted hoods and heavy cloaks, the real 
 church lights ; some from other towns — holy women, who have an 
 eye single to God's glory — Patience Leving, from Windboro : she 
 buried her lover in boyhood's grave, and had rarely smiled since. 
 Prudence White, from " Society Hill ; " she had served the Lord 
 faithfully ten years in the Feejee Islands, till her husband had 
 fallen a prey to the unnatural climate; and she had seen four little 
 graves under a bread-fruit tree, in which her own heart had been 
 buried four separate times. By this heavenly discipline she was 
 prepared "to work for God" the sole remnant of her days. Finally, 
 Charity West — a monstrosity of tears, prayers and sighs — cut 
 out for an angel about forty years since, and fully developed ac- 
 cording to the popular pattern, by a life of single blessedness. 
 
 These three were on the ground to uphold the hands of the 
 priesthood, in their proper sphere outside of the public altar. They 
 were gifted in prayer, and resolute in grace. They could conduct 
 female prayer-meetings when the clergy, fatigued with other labors, 
 were refreshing themselves over mugs of hot sling and cider, and 
 discussing the interests of Zion in a more general and comprehen- 
 sive manner. They could also lead in singmg, carry hymns through 
 alone in shrill voices, amid the sobs and tears of those under their 
 charge. They understood symptoms at the different stages of con- 
 viction and conversion ; they gave the proper warning or consola- 
 tion at each point of progress. Being of thin, wiry figures, they 
 bent more easily over the despairing to cry, " Believe ! believe!" 
 Without discomfort, they could stand for a longer period persuad- 
 ing the more contumacious to " keep nothing back from God," but 
 to "give Him all." These helpers received hospitality at the houses 
 of the minister and church officials ; rarely w^ith the laity. 
 
 There is an aphorism, "A work well begun is half done." On 
 that principle, this revival was already a success. The attendance 
 was large. During the two sermons and noon prayer-meetings 
 costumes and faces were mutually scanned, and a tacit understand- 
 ing of the status of each individual was established. At the close 
 of the day's exercises, Claras were assigned to Lizzies, Lotties 
 slipped home with Bellas, Etties claimed sweet Minnies, lovely 
 "Rias embraced and bore away gentle Katies. 
 
 In the second series, Willies were invited home by Harries, 
 
 »t> 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 83 
 
 Charlies put up with Eddies, and Joes drove their own " teams " 
 up to the doors of the Georges. Patience Leving occupied a cham- 
 ber at the doctor's, a few steps only from church. Her lungs were 
 delicate. Long cold rides comported not with her duty. 
 
 Prudence White, the bosom friend of Mrs. Steele, was "sabined" 
 off by that lady. 
 
 On Tuesday morning, Henry, Sultan and Czar called at Mrs. 
 Beame's for Fanny. He brought a note to Richard, from Edmund 
 Stone, a former classmate, now at Andover. The note begged 
 Richard, for the love he bore to souls, to come up to Cloudspire 
 to labor with the " impenitent." 
 
 Richard's interest in the great gathering was increased by his 
 sympathy for his deformed " chum." Edmund was a hunch-back 
 from birth; and the intensity of his piety was in an inverse ratio 
 to the square of a hunch-back's ciistance from upright humanity. 
 Therefore, he seemed not to belong to this rolling sphere. ^ His 
 meditations and speech were of the next two worlds. His visions 
 were telescopic ; and the church militant saw his tent of observa- 
 tion pitched upon her loftiest watch-towers. 
 
 Among Fanny's anticipations, since the invitation, had been the 
 ride to Mary Steele's, and the daily going to, and returning from 
 the church, a distance of three miles — and the very essence of 
 these anticipations, was the proud beauty of Czar and Sultan. 
 
 With that thought, she asked Richard's permission to sit on the 
 front seat with Henry. 
 
 " What now ? " he replied. " The horses ? go on then. I can 
 sit by myself." 
 
 In silence and happiness beyond words for a time her eyes saw 
 no other objects ; their figures, movements, nimble feet, graceful 
 limbs, their glossy manes blown in the wind, and their curving 
 necks were to her evidences of the attributes to their Creator. She 
 made more intimate acquaintance with the divine Artist, from that 
 living, moving sculpture. She asked herself, — 
 
 " Of what likeness was He ? What power was that, to fashion 
 such beautiful animals, and endow them with this exultant life? 
 Surely those creatures must be sparks of His own mysterious 
 nature ; they must be the embodiment of His own royal thoughts. 
 What splendid toys for an indulgent Father to bestow upon His 
 
84 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 children. How she adored Him. What could she do for such a 
 being ? " An inner voice answered, " Nothing but love Him." 
 That she did love and adore Him, she was sure. He seemed so 
 near to her now. She was in His very studio. Everything that 
 met her gaze was sacred, from His touch and finish. She would 
 now set herself to learn from God's people how to serve Him ac- 
 ceptably. 
 
 Richard, scanning Henry's thread-bare coat and tattered sleeves, 
 broke the reverie by asking Henry why he did not wear the warm 
 clothing xMrs. Beame gave him } 
 
 " I am waiting for Miss Fanny to come up." 
 
 "What has that to do with it, Henry? See, your hands are 
 nearly bare." 
 
 " I did put on the overcoat and boots Sunday morning, after the 
 horses were harnessed ; but when I came in the kitchen, the dea- 
 con and his wife questioned me about the way I got them. I ex- 
 plained it all ; but they said I must acknowledge that I took them 
 from the missionary box when the ladies were away." 
 
 William Steele, the Southerner, said, — 
 
 " A thief would lie, and it is as much the nature of niggers to do 
 both, as for birds to fly in the air." 
 
 " I went to my room and put on my rags again, till the witness 
 comes. I am poor, and ignorant, sir j I cannot help that. But I 
 am not a thief ; I can help that." 
 
 *' Oh me ! that was too cruel !" said Fanny, as she sat sidewise to 
 look from one to the other. " That spoiled all your comfort in the 
 clothes, Henry." 
 
 " It didn't anger me, for I'm used to such ways ; don't expect 
 nothing else ; but I'll drive you to meeting in them, to-morrow 
 morning." 
 
 "Yes, you will, that is quite sure! or Fanny Beame don't go 
 herself." 
 
 "Fanny," said her brother, with a bit of chiding in the tone, 
 " Charity covereth a multitude ot sins ! Zeal in morals may over- 
 leap the mark, and the motive be very good withal." 
 
 " But they won't lef our charity cover up their sins. Mother and 
 you gave the clothes, but they won't allow him to wear them. 
 Henry is forever ragged, forever cold, forever called a thief and a 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 85 
 
 nigger. What kind of charity can cover such sins ? " and her hand 
 flourished before her brother, with a wonderful oratorical display. 
 " And as to zeal, Richard," she continued, "you always say my zeal 
 must be tempered with knowledge." 
 
 A triumphant nod ended that sentence. A suppressed smile 
 warmed up the would-be reproving face of Richard, at the sharp- 
 shooter's aim. To free himself from her quizzing eyes, he said, — 
 
 " There's Cloudspire church, Fanny. Turn about now \ the bell 
 strikes for afternoon service." 
 
 Reverence for God, and His worship, hushed all vexatious 
 thoughts. She walked meekly to the deacon's pew, scarcely lifting 
 her eyes, whence every trace of indignation had disappeared. 
 " This is His house," she reflected, "I have come into this glorious 
 Presence." Humiliation was a pleasure. Yet the brown square 
 pews, the bare aisles, the naked, staring windows, gave her the pain- 
 ful idea that the gifts of the church to the One who robed the earth 
 in all its beauty, and who was Beauty himself, were penurious in 
 the extreme. He should have a magnificent temple, adorned with 
 gold and precious stones." 
 
 Her eyes caught sight of the " Steele" Bible, clasped with gold, 
 lying on its purple velvet cushion, and the heavy gilt tassels drop 
 ping from the corners. That was as it should be — right royally 
 planned, as became the great King. By association, the silver font 
 came up in her reflections. She had never looked upon its mar- 
 velous workmanship, but had heard its praise from many ; of the 
 three angels brooding over the flowery rim, and gazing into the 
 water it contained, as if to change its nature to the wine of everlast- 
 ing life. Also of their wings, spread as if they had dropped down, 
 in their celestial flight through the upper blue. She was moved by 
 the reverence that such sacred and appropriate symbols should in- 
 spire. She longed for the hour when the water from this sanctified 
 vessel of the Lord should seal her acceptance with Him, and 
 establish her communion with his people. 
 
 The usual stirring among the women, of cloaks, shawls, and foot- 
 stoves \ a flutter of white handkerchiefs among the girls ; and a 
 round of hems and haws from the men of the assembly, announced 
 the ascent to the pulpit. 
 
 The Rev. Augustus Johns, from a neighboring city, preached from 
 
86 WHTIE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Joel ii. I. " Blow ye the trumpet in Zion : sound an alarm in my 
 holy mountains: let all the inhabitants of the land ttemble: for 
 the day of the Lord cometh, for it is nigh at hand." In the exor- 
 dium, the attention of his hearers was powerfully arrested. A shud- 
 dering attention hung upon his sentences. He pursued the 
 frightful tenor of the chapter. He portrayed the terrible quakings 
 of the earth, when lofty mountains, piercing the skies, should be 
 siezed with spasmodic convulsions ; when long ranges of towering 
 peaks, should rock on their bases, and jostle against each other, 
 like storm-swept waves; when whole cities should totter on their 
 foundations, and with one grand, reverberating crash, lie level with 
 the ground. He depicted the ocean, loosed from the restraint of 
 its natural laws ; the thundering of its clashing tides ; the lashing of 
 its angry billows against a " day of darkness," a " day of darkness 
 and gloominess ; " " a day of cloudiness, and thick darkness," when 
 " the sun should turn to blackness, and the moon, stricken by Al- 
 mighty Power, should turn to blood." He dilated upon the 
 trifling effort of God's wrath, necessary to the swift annihilation of 
 worlds ; worlds which He had created with a breath ; worlds which 
 His word of command had willed out into space, as easily as soap- 
 bubbles are blown into the air. He drew forth his watch and held 
 it in view of the astounded audience. " What are the sun and 
 moon ? In one of these briefest moments of time called into exist- 
 ence : in another of these briefest moments, extinguished, erased." 
 
 He took breath. He wiped away drops of seeming agony from 
 his face, harrowed by these direful contemplations. He raised a 
 glass of water to his lips, ran his long fingers though a standing 
 shock of red hair, which seemed to have caught the spirit of flames ; 
 the reflection of a terrific conflagration of all things earthly. In a 
 low, guttural voice, like muffled thunder, he proclaimed this day of 
 the Lord near at hand. " It may overwhelm you, this very week ! 
 this very day ! Who can foretell this awful hour ? Seasons and 
 events are in His hands alone, whose omnipotent finger first moved 
 the great pendulum of Time ! The inhabitants of the land should 
 tremble. You, my hearers, should abhor yourselves in sackcloth 
 and ashes. You should fall upon your knees, and supplicate par- 
 don, v;hich the knell of Time will render forever too late." 
 
 The linenments of his face became distorted ; he wrung his hands 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 8 7 
 
 over the audience. He cried with hideous incoherency, "This day 
 of God's wrath, how near ! Think of an offended God ! Think ! 
 I beseech you. He taketh vengeance upon His enemies. In this 
 disruption of worlds, breaking upon us, even as it were at this mo- 
 ment, there will be no Savior. His atonement will have ceased." 
 This frenzied peroration brought his subject to a most appalling 
 close. The congregation bowed with terror and gloom. Sobs, 
 groans and tears, dolefully mingled. The great actor himself, 
 shaken like a leaf over his own work, stepped down from the pulpit, 
 weeping. 
 
 Fanny, wondering at herself, remained unmoved. There were 
 no tears in her eyes, nor fear in her heart. She doubted the pro- 
 priety, of selecting a text from the Pagan past, for the conversion of 
 a quiet country people, in these days of Christian grace. Her nature 
 recoiled from the picture of savage ferocity, with which the Rev. 
 Johns endowed the loving All Father. A small rebellion, arose in 
 her soul against the speaker, his oratory, and even against his Judg- 
 ment Day ; which ended by her saying in her heart, '• I don't believe 
 it. I doubt if he believes it himself." -To her, the old church looked 
 dreary. The glorious Presence had departed. She felt alone in a 
 prison-nouse, among panic-stricken companions. 
 
 The inquiry meeting followed. Sanctimonious women convoyed 
 hesitating relatives to the " anxious seat." Middle aged men, who 
 had audaciously *' held out against the Lord " for years " went for- 
 ward." The action of natural forces impelled others. They arose 
 in pairs " affinities." Harry of Windboro, descended from the gal- 
 lery walked slowly up the aisle ; and Katie of Cloudspire, left a pew 
 below, following. Minnie stepped from her father's pew by the 
 stove, with her veil down, and a handkerchief to her eyes ; simul- 
 taneously, Eddie, from Society Hill, arose in the north-east corner, 
 and passed on with drooping head to a seat beside her. Lottie, 
 lingering nearly to the last, arose, slender as a calla lily, standing 
 undecided by her seat, with disheveled curls, and downcast eyes ; 
 till Rev. Luther Winfield, the " lovely young minister," came from 
 the altar, and in his own pleading hand took hers, leading her, half 
 blinded by confusion, to a comfortable seat. It was his official 
 privilege to retain that hand ; to sit beside her, pointing to the "Lamb 
 of God, that taketh away the sins of the world." While rendering 
 
88 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 this professional service, however he fondly believed in his heart 
 no sin had ever stained the purity of her blossoming soul. 
 
 Thus the seats were filled. Tears flowed afresh. The Deity was 
 solemnly implored, to look upon the depraved and agonized group 
 at His altar. His vengeance and mercy ; His hatred and love. 
 His jealously and forebearance, were learnedly rehearsed before 
 Him, as if God, were an enigma to Himself. The implacable Je- 
 hovah, was flattered, cajoled, admonished and reprimanded. The 
 " mourners " were presented to the Throne, as divine images, and 
 as reprobates ; as immortals, and as dying worms ; as penitents, and 
 as incorrigibles. 
 
 At intervals, the plaintive wailings of old Bangor, China, Funeral 
 Thought, and Judgment Hymn, surged over the stricken company, 
 like voices from the tombs j as if the very dead, were calling from 
 their graves. 
 
 From these incongruous elements, there came forth a grotesque 
 variety of those singular cwiositics of the age, denominated " Chris- 
 tians." The conversions formed a genus, of which the species 
 differed as widely, as the legerdemain tricks of the prestidigiator, al 
 though produced by the same, or a similar art. There are eggs 
 fried in a hat, cooing doves soaring from a boiling pot, handkerchiefs 
 extracted from a loaf of bread, and stolen silver coin dropping from 
 the sleeves of honest men. Thus, each species of the gems '' con- 
 version," possessed certain peculiar characters differing from each 
 other. They were conformable to no model, or draft, except to the 
 mysterious credenda of the illimitable space, and the eternity be- 
 yond human ken. 
 
 " Remarkable conversions ; said a gray-haired gentleman to an- 
 other ; chafing his palms together with exultation. " The Lord's 
 hand is not shortened that it cannot save." 
 
 Simon Link, the drover, lifted his weather-beaten face, and said 
 calmly, " Peace ! all is bright as the sun." But this was not the 
 work of Rev, Augustus Johns. Fear had no place in Simon's 
 heart — he had driven his herds in the face of uprooting hurri- 
 canes j he had slept soundly on the ground o'nights, when the 
 black earth was chained to darkness by jagged lightnings. His 
 joy was the effect of Sunday's pastoral sermon, by good old Father 
 Lanson, from the text, " I am the good Shepherd." Since then, 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 89 
 
 gentle undefinable thoughts of being folded himself, filled his re- 
 flections. He would rest somewhere, the " green pastures," and 
 "still waters" of God's love appeared to him incomparably 
 beautful. 
 
 A few low, delicious tones of tender enquiry in Lottie's ear by 
 the Rev. Luther Winfield, was answered by glad tidings, I am very 
 happy,'' a striking coincidence with his own feelings. This grati- 
 fying fact, he duly proclaimed for her ; as woman was still subject 
 to Paul. Then taking the dear hand in hisj he led her to her fa- 
 ther's sleigh in waiting at the door. 
 
 Eddie rose up, and spoke for himself, expressing the assurance 
 that he had found Christ j that he should now renounce the world, 
 and its deceptive pleasures. He closed by asking prayers that he 
 might be a bright and shining light, and lead many souls to 
 Heaven. 
 
 The Rev. Stone inquired the state of Minnie's feelings. He 
 bent over her, and received the whispered replied, " I think I have 
 found the Pearl of great price ; " whereupon he declared this addi- 
 tional trophy with devout satisfaction. Minnie was nearly fainting ; 
 he advised her to retire. Eddie offered his sleigh and himself , to 
 take his new-found treasure to quieter scenes. It was a millen- 
 nial sight, the manner in which his strong arm supported the 
 young convert, while her head drooped upon his regenerated 
 shoulder, on the way home. 
 
 It was conceded throughout Cloudspire, that the^ greatest tri- 
 umph of grace was seen in the conversion of the rich Mr. Bud- 
 dington. It had been devoutly wished for years, that he might be 
 enrolled among the church, as in that case, his great wealth would 
 be sanctified to evangelical purposes. 
 
 To their great joy, there he stood ; enveloped in his fur-lmed 
 broadcloth overcoat — "a monmment of divine mercy." In his 
 own words, he had revolved the subject for two years. During 
 recess to-day, in a providential interview with William Steele, from 
 South Carolina, that gentleman's wide Christian experience had 
 opened a way for his feet. He should with thankfulness regard 
 him as the more direct instrument in the hands of God, of his clear 
 and satisfactory conversion. 
 
^O WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Mr. William Steele was then called upon to offer the closing 
 prayer, after which the old brown church was deserted. 
 
 Dr. Clarendon lived near the " meeting house," just across the 
 green. Both he and his wife desired to do honor to the town's 
 distinguished guest from the South. Therefore, Mrs. Clarendon 
 begged the favor of Mr. Steele's company for that night ; suggest- 
 ing that he should not be too partial in his visits among the 
 town's people. He accepted with the finished courtesy of the 
 Southerner, whose manners he studied to imitate, at once offering 
 his arm to his hostess. The doctor's wife was but slightly im- 
 pressed with the solemnities of the week ; therefore her intercourse 
 was marked by her natural gaiety. 
 
 The professions of Medicine and Theology in Cloudspire were 
 two aristocracies ; each with its distinct armorial bearings, and 
 separate as the " houses of York and Lancaster." The doctor de- 
 clared his supremacy over the church, by saying; — 
 
 "They can neither live nor die, without me. I have to bring 
 them into this world, and see them safely out of it. Further- 
 more," he added, "believers profess to remove mountains by faith 
 and prayer, when they cannot remove mole-hills without my ipecac 
 and paregoric." 
 
 A loud, hearty laugh followed these flippant assertions, accom- 
 panied with the winding of his nasal horn in a red silk bandana. 
 
 Dr. Clarendon's halls and apartments were more tropical in fur- 
 niture than those of their neighbors. Warm, bright colors mingled 
 in carpets. Massive shining brass andirons, and scalloped brass 
 fenders, adorned marble hearths. Curtains, red as poppies, were 
 caught up on milk-white glass rosettes. Mirrors leaned over the 
 mantels, which were copies of Egyptian marble. 
 
 Lucy, the only child, was the pride of her father. Her home 
 was her Paradise ; for between her and the young people, there 
 was a great gulf. There was no approximation of familiarty or 
 affection. On their part, they were icebergs, loosed from their 
 moorings ; and Lucy was a violet palm island in a sunny sea.^ 
 
 A contest of ribbons, and colors was secretly carried on in the 
 dressing chambers, and band-boxes of the town-maidens, said 
 dressing chambers, and band-boxes being ever on the defensive 
 against^Lucy, the aggressor. In the spring, the hue of her ribbons 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 9 1 
 
 and dress was borrowed from the dandelions and apple-blossoms, 
 with the delicate greens of a new-born foliage. By the time these 
 colors were fairly in a successful reign, and the church of a Sunday 
 seemed one grand spring bouquet, Lucy walked up the aisle in 
 midsummer, habited as if a piece of heaven's blue had fallen upon 
 her, coloring gloves, streamers, and dress. Chambers, and band- 
 boxes fell out again with the doctor's daughter, and took to practising 
 wicked extortions from missionary funds and savings-banks, till the 
 church lawn and square grim pews blossomed in the coveted ceru- 
 lean. In autumn, Lucy's golden browns, crimsons and dusky 
 greens, baffled jealousy. She was scarcely distinguishable from 
 the brilliantly tinted leaves that showered about her morning and 
 evening walks. 
 
 The mill-owner's son, down at Alderbank, had her name on his 
 list, and drove his prancing turnout past the doctor's on many a 
 summer day, yet never drew a rein. He frequently saw her face 
 framed in the arch of the red curtains, like a saint, set in the 
 stained glass of cathedral windows. Its purity rebuked him ; and 
 he only carried that picture away, in his memory. 
 
 The doctor was a dread to the unlearned j inasmuch as, like St. 
 Peter, he jingled the keys of life and death. He dealt in techni- 
 calities ; he hurled Latin and knotty physiological terms about 
 him with overwhelming effect, chuckling with enjoyment over his 
 frightened patients. Formidable and unheard of diseases held 
 high carnival in his circuit. 
 
 Thus, between the doctor's playful, and bombastic ambiguity, 
 and the war of the band-boxes, his daughter was left to waste her 
 sweetness on the Cloudspire air. 
 
 Supper awaited the arrival of the master of ceremonies but a 
 short time. A dose of volubility, studded with uproarious laughs, 
 set every patient right. Without recourse to saddle-bags for 
 drops, or powders, pain was soothed, and nerves were calmed. 
 The doctor put his patients in good humor, bade them take a good 
 night's rest, and returned home. 
 
 The supper was a true New England institution. Roast turkey, 
 roast pig, a round of beef, sweetmeats, pickles, boiled custards, 
 loaf cake, cream and mince pies. 
 
 Hester, a very black woman, and her son, a bright-looking 
 
92 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 brown boy, waited. Roland was bidden by Mrs Clarendon to 
 stand at the back of Mr. Steele's chair — a surprise and an honor 
 quite pleasing to that gentleman. Roland changed Mr. Steele's 
 plates, stepping back to his post every time with the precision of a 
 cadet ; while the doctor himself passed the viands to the others. 
 Roland handed coffee and dessert with a bow, and was duly re- 
 warded by that personage with, " Splendidly done ! my fine fel- 
 low," a pat on his head, and a silver half dollar. At the close of 
 the meal, Mr. Steele again gallantly offered his arm to the lady 
 hostess, and the dining-room was left to Hester's care. 
 
 Roland was allowed time to admire the bright silver piece, which 
 he turned first oneway, and then another, in the light of the tall pink 
 wax candles, still standing on the table. He held it over his head, 
 dancing round and round upon one foot, till a jealous chair 
 tripped him up. The floor caught his treasure from his hand, and 
 the thieving ashes hid it. He hallooed lustily, and rescued it from 
 the brigands, whirling it upon the table to hear its warbling ring. 
 He said to Hester, — 
 
 " Mother! what's this bird on here, with sticks in his claws ? " 
 
 "That's the American Eagle, my son. It means freedom ! " 
 
 " What does this woman hold on her cane .'' A cap } Why don't 
 she put it on her head } 
 
 " Oh ? that's a cap of Liberty ! A woman must not wear that. 
 She holds it for the gentlemen." 
 
 *' How much will this money buy, mother ? — a pair of shoes for 
 me, and a shawl for you ? " 
 
 " No, Roland, it would not buy even a pair of shoes for you ; 
 but its a nice present. You earn money faster than I do. I have 
 to work three days and a half for a half dollar." 
 
 " Where are your half dollars, mother ? — I never saw one 
 before." 
 
 " You have one on your back, the price of an old coat, to make 
 over for you. Then, there's a little tea and sugar in the paper at 
 home, and a small piece of soap ; there's another fifty cents — and 
 so on." 
 
 Perfectly happy, and unconscious of the curse awaiting his pret- 
 ty brown face — merely because it was brown — he took up 
 Hester's poor, sorrowful words, and sang up and down the house, 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 93 
 
 "And SO on, and so on, and so on j " and then outdoors he sang 
 to the stars, " And so on, and so on, and so on." 
 
 Entering again briskly, he said to his mother, — 
 
 " Shall I wait on the gentleman to-morrow ? and if I do, will he 
 give me more silver money ?" 
 
 Just then the burly doctor, preceding Mr. Steele, and grand in 
 the spasmodic curves of the upper lip, stiffened to the highest 
 degree, passed through the dining-room to the office — a little green 
 blinded box on the south-east corner of the house - — wherein a 
 stove kept up its purring noise through the winter days. A large 
 arm-chair, the dread of aching teeth, embraced the pompous master. 
 A red lounge, whereon were accustomed to recline the pains, debil- 
 ities, derangements, nervous, and other complaints, acute and 
 chronic, put on its state manners, and gracefully surported Mr. 
 Steele. 
 
 The doctor wound a nasal horn in the red bandana, kept his eyes 
 on the polite lounger who dreamily followed the smoke-rings of his 
 cigar, and thought it would be pleasant to dissect a Southerner. 
 Yet he was awkwardly aware, that to make a " nattomy " of that 
 subject required a metaphysical manoeuvering, for which he doubted 
 his own ability. 
 
 There is often a strange similarity between currents of thought 
 in two individuals. William Steele was arranging initiatory steps 
 for analyzing the doctor. " Why should I hesitate," he thought, 
 " even on this, my first visit ? " I knew the family, before I left the 
 North. Pshaw ! it's no more than a business transaction. I have 
 made merchandise of human nature too long, to halt now. I have 
 trafficked in just such beings as make up that protracted meeting, 
 with only the difference of color. — By Jove, I like color ! Lucy, 
 can't come any nearer an angel than my Isabel. But that's neither 
 here nor there." 
 
 He puffed the smoke of his cigar slowly ; the rings were perfect. 
 
 " I have come North for a wife ; and if my coming has not been 
 preceded by John the Baptist, it has been heralded by a baptismal 
 Font ; which in Cloudspire, is the same thing. I know my prestige 
 and power, and will proceed at once with my purpose." 
 
 Lucy Clarendon answered his requirements. She was fresh and 
 fine looking ; her features bore the impress of culture and thought. 
 
94 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 She was not foolishly shy, nor awkwardly confused. Her style was 
 dignified, and distinguished by a lady-like self possession. On the 
 whole, she would reflect credit upon himself, on his return to ' Le 
 Grand Palais." He regarded woman as one of man's earthly 
 possessions, and accordingly, began his negotiations. 
 
 He led conversation adroitly up to this question, " Will you per- 
 mit me, doctor, to call your attention to a subject, which weighs 
 heavily upon my thoughts ^ " 
 
 " I am ai your service, sir," replied the genial host. 
 
 " Pardon my abruptness ; but it seems best to begin at the root 
 of the matter. I came North with the intention of marriage ; to 
 carry back with me as the solace of my loneliness in that state, a 
 companion. I have made my choice, and with frankness, I entrust 
 you with the happy secret, — you, as the proper, and lawful guardian 
 of the one I hold most dear. I bring my suit before you first. 
 Most unwittingly perhaps, your peerless daughter Lucy, has taken 
 me captive. If you have objections, sir, to my presenting the sub- 
 ject before her, I shall most sadly obey. If my preference meets 
 with your approbation, I shall impatiently await the hour to learn my 
 fate from her own lips." 
 
 An immedi3.te use of the bandana ; a short, well timed silence, 
 and the doctor replied, — 
 
 " I must acknowledge, Mr. Steele, you have divulged a delicate 
 state of affairs. I am at a loss what to answer to this sudden sum- 
 mons. True I have always remembered that the time would probably 
 come, when my Lucy's affections must be transferred from myself 
 to another, and I have desired that when my arm should cease to 
 shield her, she should be doubly protected by that other. In your- 
 self, sir, I see an eligible offer, so far as report goes ; personally, I 
 have had no information as to your prospects, although I have every 
 reason to believe they are more than desirable." 
 
 Mr. Steele rose from the lounge, and paced the floor as if in a 
 mental chaos of hope and fear. He drew from his pocket-book 
 three papers, and extended them to the doctor, that he might judge 
 for himself of his financial outlook. 
 
 The first paper was the agreement as overseer of the plantation, 
 "Le Giand Palais" 
 
 The doctor read, — 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 95 
 
 " Be it remembered that it is agreed between Frederick Fairland, by Francis 
 Elliott, his attorney, on the one part, and William Steele, on the other part, ni 
 manner following, that is to say : The said William Steele agrees from the iirst 
 day of January, 1S3 — , to the first day of January, 183 — , to oversee the planta- 
 tion of the said Frederick Fairland, called "Le Grand Palais," and to overlook 
 the plantations of the said Fairland called the "Nile," "Staple," "Success" 
 and " Snowfield ; " and the negroes, stock, barns, mills, and every species of 
 property of the said Fairland, thereon, in a planter-like manner, with skill, care, 
 fidelity, ability and humanity ; and to the utmost of his power to oversee, over- 
 look, and manage the same in the best manner for the interest of said Frederick 
 Fairland ; and the said William Steele may at the expense of the said Fairland 
 employ three overseers for the said plantations, and turn them away at his pleas- 
 ure ; provided that the wages of'said overseers sh^U not exceed three hundred 
 dollars per annum for the' one, nor one hundred and fifty per annum for the 
 other two. In consideration whereof, the said Fairland, by his attorney afore- 
 said, agrees to allow and to pay to the said William Steele at the expiration of 
 the said term, the full sum of nine hundred dollars ; also, one-third of the in- 
 crease of the hogs, and half the increase of the poultry. Also, to be allowed to 
 keep two horses, and moderately feed them, and to be found in a reasonable 
 quantity of coffee and sugar, a plantation beef, and likewise a negro wench to 
 cook and wash for him, and two boys to wait on him and to be sent on the busi- 
 ness of the plantations. 
 
 In witness whereof, the said parties have set their hands this Seventeenth day of 
 December, in the year of our Lord, One Thousand Eight Hundred and Thirty. 
 
 Frederick Fairland, 
 By his Attorney, Francis S. Elliott, 
 
 William Steele. 
 
 The second paper was a Bill of Sale of " Marquis. " 
 
 Bill of Sale.— Printed by J. C. Walker. 
 
 State of South Carolina. 
 
 Know all men by these presents. That I, Mordecai Heartson, for and in con- 
 sideration of the sum of One Thousand Dollars to me in hand paid by William 
 Steele, at and before the sealing of these presents, (the receipt whereof I do 
 hereby acknowledge), have bargained and sold, and by these presents do bar- 
 gain, sell and deliver to the said William Steele, a negro man slave named Mar- 
 quis, to have and to hold the said negro man slave unto the said William Steele, 
 his executors, administrators, and assigns to his and their only proper use and 
 behoof forever ; and I, the said Mordecai Heartson, m.y executors and adminis- 
 trators, the said bargained premises, unto the said William Steele, his executors, 
 heirs and assigns, from and against all persons shall and will warrant, and for- 
 ever defend by these presents. 
 
 In witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and seal. Dated at Charles- 
 ton, on the twenty-seventh day of January, in the year of our Lord, One Thou- 
 
q6 white may, and black JUNE. 
 
 sand Eight Hundred and Thirty . and in the fifty year of the Independ- 
 ence of the United States of America. 
 
 MORDECAI HEARTSON. 
 Signed, sealed and delivered in the presence of ISea/] 
 
 JAMES JESNEY. 
 
 The doctor, not the least wearied, unfolded the third paper, and 
 as he read silently, his upper lip took on a spasm of importance 
 and gratification. The document was a bill of sale of Binah and 
 her two children, Flora and Sarah. It was the deed of William 
 Steele's property, lawfully certified and registered, in the proper 
 official department at Charleston. It read thus : 
 
 Bi// of Sale.^ Printed by P. Hoff. 
 
 The State of South Carolina, 
 
 Know all men by these presents, That I, Edward M. Doom, for and in con- 
 sideration of the sum of one thousand dollars, to me in hand paid, at and before 
 the sealing and delivery of these presents, by William Steele, (the receipt 
 whereof I do hereby acknowledge), have bargained and sold, and by these 
 presents do bargain, sell, and deliver to the said William Steele, Binah and her 
 two children. Flora and Sarah, to have and to hold the said slaves, with their 
 future issue and increase, unto the said William Steele, his executors, adminis- 
 trators and assigns, to his and their only proper use and behoof, forever. And 
 to the said Edward M. Doom, my executors and administrators, the said bar- 
 gained premises unto the said William Steele, his executors, administrators and 
 assigns, from and against all persons shall and will warrant, and forever defend, 
 by these presents. 
 
 In witness whereof I have hereunto set my hand and seal. Dated at Charles- 
 ton, on the twenty-sixth day of September, in the year of our Lord One Thous- 
 and Eight Hundred and Thirty , and in the fifty year of the Independ- 
 ence of the United States of America. 
 
 EDWARD M. DOOM. 
 
 Signed, sealed and delivered in the presence of \L. S.\ 
 
 THO. N. GARDNER. 
 
 After a careful perusal of said printed documents, which gave an 
 air of stability, of law and order, quite pleasing to the reader's 
 mind, the doctor remarked, — 
 
 " I am more than satisfied, sir, with the papers ; I regard them 
 as the corner-stone of your future independence." 
 
 " Thank you. You observe in the last paper, the ' Bill of Sale,' 
 that the future increase of Binah and her children are mine also.'* 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 97 
 
 " I have heard," said the doctor " that the race is prolific ; and 
 if so, that must be a source of rapid income to owners." 
 
 " Yes, that is true in the main. Binah has already brought me 
 a fine male child ; and perhaps before my return, will add still 
 another. Binah is of a superior breed. She was imported from 
 Africa, direct from the ' Gold Coast.' Came over in the slaver 
 * Black Cruiser,' in the last part of the year 1815. She is hardy 
 and docile, seldom needs the whip, and works like a mule." 
 
 " What is the value of children, Mr. Steele ?" 
 
 " Usually, fifty dollars, as soon as born ; according to size and 
 soundness. At a year old, one hundred ; and so on. The oldest 
 girl will soon yield me a profit in that line. In less than one 
 year's time she will be fourteen years old ; I got her age from her 
 master. She is a mulatto." 
 
 " I suppose you have not yet purchased land. How then do you 
 dispose of your slaves } " 
 
 " Hire them out, sir. Binah works rice for sixty dollars a year, 
 and supports her own children. I am at no expense whatever. 
 They must continue to clothe themselves. ]\Iarquis I purchased in 
 Charleston, on the 'table.' He's worth twelve hundred dollars; 
 but owing to a suspected partiality of his mistress for^ him, he was 
 put up for sale, and she was taken to France. He is a fine mu- 
 latto fellow, and a prime mechanic. I rented him on the spot for 
 twenty dollars a month." 
 
 " I am convinced," said the doctor, " that no part of our Union 
 opens such avenues to wealth as the South." 
 
 " That is my opinion, sir ; although a man starting without means 
 may not often be so fortunate as myself. I have the full confidence 
 of Mr. Fairland, who leaves all his affairs to me, and therefore 
 grants privileges which in other cases would be withheld." 
 
 " You make the most of Yankee calculation, I see," remarked 
 the doctor, with a consequential laugh. " Marquis brings you two 
 hundred and forty dollars a year. Binah and daughter at two births 
 a year, two hundred ; and Binah herself, rented at sixty, makes a 
 net incoiPiC of five hundred dollars a year ; and then there is no 
 toiling, or sweat of the brow over such revenue." 
 
 " I confess I have nothing to complain of, in adverse fortune ; 
 but doctor, material possessions do not satisfy the heart." Here 
 
98 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 William drew his snowy handkerchief covertly across his eyes, zs if 
 tears were expected. He sat down with well dissembled humility, 
 adding, " I look upon the pure home affections as the desideratum 
 of man's happiness. Without these, man's life is a desert — a bar- 
 ren Sahara, whith may be traversed by camels, bearing the gold of 
 Ophir, and the pearls of Indian seas. It may be one grand 
 thoroughfare of Arabian spices and perfumes, and remain a desert 
 still, the pathway of gold, and pearls, and spices effaced from its 
 sands by the sighs of solitude and discontent." 
 
 A flourish of the doctors bandana sufficed for the exclamation 
 point. He assented to the truth of Mr. Steele's remarks, observing 
 emphatically, — 
 
 " Marriage is a divine ordinance. Its blessings are the rarest 
 that Heaven bestows upon a fallen world. In marriage, the aft'ec- 
 tions become anchored. The fruits of that union are the highest 
 pledges of man's happiness on earth. The unselfishness of paren- 
 tal solicitude for children is a source of unadulterated joy." 
 
 This harmonious flourish of sentiments brought a benign ex- 
 pression to each face. ]\Ir. Steele resumed, — 
 
 "You understand me now, sir ; my early days — my present finan- 
 ces; and as to principles, why' Cloudspire has ever had my moral 
 and religious nature under inspection. I shall not remain longer than 
 one week from next Monday. There is a necessity for an early 
 announcement of my wishes. Shall I meet mercy, or refusal .'' " 
 
 Both gentlemen sought appropriate refuge in silence. The doc- 
 tor resolved to meet this urgent request with becoming dignity; al- 
 though a glow of exultant joy was creeping to the very tips of his 
 fingers. 
 
 " Surprising !" he said to himself. " Lucy to marry ease, ser- 
 vants, mocking-birds, magnolia-blossoms, and orange- groves ! Lucy 
 to travel far away to these possessions in waiting ! Lucy to be. 
 conie the white lamb of Mr. Steele's manly and tender care." 
 
 His lip took on its old, important cuil, and he finally gave the 
 suppliant his hand. 
 
 " I do not feel at liberty to refuse my daughter the free exercise 
 of her own feelings in this case. You have my warmest wishes, 
 and unqualified assent. However, allow me to meet her first with 
 her mother, to prepare them, sir, for this unexpected proposition. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 99 
 
 If your appeal meets with favor, I will leave you to press your suit 
 with the dear girl herself." 
 
 Dr. Clarendon pressed the hand he held warmly, and returned 
 to the parlor. 
 
 After a few moments the office door opened, and Hester glided 
 in unobtrusively to the stove. She replenished it with wood, and 
 began brushing up the hearth, quietly kneeling before her work. 
 Suddenly she felt ner head drawn back ; a pair of warm hands, one 
 on each side of her head, held her in that position ; a pair of glit- 
 tering black eyes bent over her ; a black beard swept her forehead, 
 and a swift kiss was left on each cheek. Then a strong left arm 
 glided round her waist, raised her to her feet, and held her there in 
 its encircling clasp. Before her eyes, in William Steele's right hand, 
 there shone a silver half dollar. Bewildered, she neither accepted 
 nor refused it. While releasing herself from his embrace, he again 
 lifted her chin, and flashed his glittering eyes into hers. Kissing her 
 forhead, and he said, — 
 
 " Take it, Hester. A touch of your velvet face, and a look into 
 your soft eyes, is worth double the money." 
 
 With her hand upon the latch of the door, she spoke angrily, 
 regaining her strength. 
 
 " I am poor and needy, sir ; but I have lived long enough to 
 understand insult ! I am not a slave, sir ! I entered this office by 
 Mrs. Clarendon's order. Shall I expose this treatment ? " 
 
 " Of course not," he replied eagerly. " These affairs are not to 
 be spoken of. If you love your young lady. Miss Lucy, you will 
 preserve silence." 
 
 "I do love and respect her," said Hester. 
 
 " Then take this money and go," he urged hurriedly. 
 
 For an instant she thought of her poverty, took the piece, and 
 immediately left the room. 
 
 Soon after, the doctor looked into the office, and simply said, — 
 
 " This way, sir." 
 
 For a half hour, the family group in the parlor discussed the 
 revival ; Edmund Stone, the hunch-back ; the climate of South 
 Carolina ; and the bills of mortality in Charleston. Finally, Dr. 
 and Mrs. Clarendon withdrew, leaving Lucy to the charming of her 
 lover, Mr. Steele. It was evident to that lover, that he must 
 
lOO WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "charm never so wisel3\" A false step would imperil his plans. 
 Lucy's color glowed and paled like changing rubies. Restraint 
 somewhat stiffened her manner ; her eyes burned hazel in the fire- 
 light. The Douglas plaid of her dress lacked the waving sheen 
 of her natural animation ; it froze into statuesque folds. A book of 
 engravings was open on the table at her side. 
 
 William asked coolly, — 
 
 "Are you fond of pictures, Miss Clarendon ?" 
 
 " Quite so ; but in landscapes, I should prefer the originals. 
 Nature herself is more attractive to me than her representatives." 
 
 " Pictures are a fine substitute, when means and leisure are 
 wanting for travel ; and they also preserve the inspiring lineaments 
 of the noble and beloved. I think I have learned to esteem them 
 more highly, by the study of Mr. Fairland's gallery, at ' Le Grand 
 Palais.' Our small town here, offers no works of arts. Her hills 
 and rivulets were all I had previously studied." 
 
 Lucy began to feel more at her ease, and asked, — 
 
 " Does your forest scenery South, differ materially from ours ? " 
 
 " Very materially. Our Carolina live oaks, veiled with moss, 
 are objects of great attraction — intensely unique in their growth. 
 Our pines are tall and sparse — one may ride in any direction 
 throusrh the forests. At "this season thev are filled with warm 
 hazy sunlight, and bird-songs, instead of chilly snows." 
 
 Forgetting shyness in thought of sun-lighted pines, her eyes 
 raised in the old manner, and she remarked, smilingly, — 
 
 " How delightful these must be." 
 
 " They are so, I assure you. Miss Clarendon; but to me, they lack 
 the charm of companionship. I have been led to say with Sel- 
 kirk, — 
 
 ' O Solitude ! where are the charms, 
 That sages have seen in thy face.' 
 
 An appreciating taste, enlivening, and directing my own, would 
 be invaluable." 
 
 •' You have the society of planter's families, I suppose ? I hear 
 they are a highly refined and cultured class." 
 
 " Yes, truly so; but, Miss Clarendon, pardon me, I referred to a 
 nearer interest than that of the neighbor or casual visitor. Allow 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. lOI 
 
 me to say, that such a mentor as yourself would make celestial 
 bowers of live-oaks; elysium of pine forests." 
 
 A slight trembling of the hand on the book, a rapid lot)k into 
 the firelight ensued. Lucy observed, "I am not accustomed to 
 such compliments, Mr. Steele. I feel myself totally unworthy-." 
 
 '• Far more unworthy am I to indulge such an aspiration, 
 for one who is grace and purity itself. But there are moments in 
 life, when the human soul is fearless — when it risks self-respect, 
 and the golden opinion of another, for a purpose which hurls every 
 other suggestion to oblivion." 
 
 He gently laid his hand on the white tremulous thing, nestling 
 among the pictures. Scarce knowing how, or why, she withdrew 
 her hand from its shelter. 
 
 '^Oh! leave me not! thou white dove of hope!" he murmured 
 piteously. — " Return over the troubled waters of my spirit, and 
 bring the green olive branch ! — '" Tenderly he raised the hunted 
 hand to his lips. No word of hers relieved the silence — like a 
 frightened bird, which cannot raise its wings, her speech v/as para- 
 lyzed. He knelt before the maiden upon one knee, and bowed his 
 head despairingly. He begged permission to lay before her the 
 exquisite torture and felicity of the present moment. "Would his 
 entreaties offend her? — Might he dare to unveil to her the uncon- 
 trollable tempest of his soul .'' ". 
 
 Lucy gathered strength from his weakness, and found in her 
 heart, strong sympathy for his distress. She bade hiai rise — she 
 would hear all ! Then her brain whirled, and for a moment, the 
 firelight darkened. She supported herself upon the table. 
 
 His chair was beside hers — he held her hand in his. 
 
 " Miss Clarendon ! I am an humble suppliant for your sweet 
 mercy ! Since I first gazed upon you, I have been your captive. 
 I am soon to return South. Here to-night, I mu st learn from your 
 lips an unspeakable joy or an utter despair. Through all this week, 
 although I have endeavored to lend my aid in the great revival of 
 our church, you have come between me and God. — While I knelt 
 before Him, my spirit bowled before yoii. The dear image of your 
 beauty rose above all else. Wlierever I walked, _)w/ flitted on be- 
 fore me. Wherever I sat jw/ were beside me." 
 
 His voice sank into humility itself. " Alas ! unfortunate omen 1 
 
I02 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 — the light of your countenance turns from me — my vehemence 
 pains you. Oh ! how heedlessly have I crushed the flower I would 
 fain gather to my breast ! " 
 
 Again he reverentially raised the hand to his lips, and retained it 
 more lightly, still clinging to it however, as a drowning man might 
 grasp helplessly a white water lily — his only safety. He said no 
 more, but sat apparently repentant. Lucy had turned partially 
 away to rest her forehead upon her other hand. At length she 
 addressed him, — 
 
 " Mr. Steele, I am rather a suppliant at your hands — I am 
 speechless before you ! I am not a coquette, to utter lightly false, 
 and wounding words. Grant me time to reflect." 
 
 " God bless you for this ! — that you do not strangle, at once, my 
 nascent hopes ! " 
 
 He relinquished her hand and arose, saying, — 
 
 "My cruel impetuosity has unnerved you — I will retire for a 
 time. But there are many reasons why I venture to beg, that at 
 an early moment I may receive some assurance of your favor. If 
 my stay could be extended for days, or if I were to reside here 
 months, your own sweet will should be mine; — if indeed, I might 
 look upon you every week, and feel that your dear presence was 
 near ! " 
 
 He went out beneath the cold starry sky. Never before in her 
 life had Lucy felt so lonely as when the door shut William Steele 
 from her sight. And wherefore .? — She was a riddle to herself. — 
 She seemed suddenly to have come upon a Celestial City, whose 
 gilded turrets, and graceful spires were bathed in serenest blue ; 
 an amethystine gate seemed left ajar for her to open. She longed 
 to enter the purple portal amid the glories beyond. But how 
 could she swing the precious barrier aside ! She felt herself a 
 mere child. What enchanting words she had heard. How exqui- 
 isitely delicious did they still echo in her ear, thrilling her with 
 rapture. But ah ! it could not be a reality. She was accustomed 
 to an insiduous coldness outside of her family, coloring courtesies 
 and civilities. Why did Mr. Steele select her among a world- 
 full of other attractions ? Could she leave father, and mother, 
 the home of her childhood, and depart with a stranger, hith- 
 erto? Did she love him.^ She could not analyze this new 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 103 
 
 array of emotions ; this spell of his presence causing her to tremble 
 like an aspen leaf; this oppressive sense of desertion in his ab- 
 sence ; this unaccountable longing for his return. Visions of her 
 forest walks, her favorite wild flowers, the purling brooks, and her 
 rocky seats flashed into memory. Could she leave them to go so 
 far away .'* Strange ! they appeared desolate now, unless his foot- 
 steps should wander there with hers. Yet, she could not expose 
 her perplexity to him ; and he had besought an immediate answer. 
 The tumult of her thoughts, hopes, and regrets would not be stilled. 
 
 She placed the brands together on the hearth ; smoothed her 
 hair before the long mirror on the mantel. Whom did she see 
 there ? Surely not Lucy Clarendon. In the place of the ani- 
 mated self-poised features that ever before had been reflected to 
 her view, there were tearful and pleading eyes — a physiognomy 
 from which every shade of pride and spirit had vanished, and 
 given place to a saintly abnegation of self. To an observer, there 
 would have been an indescribable charm in the softened, saddened 
 light that overspread the face. 
 
 Still wandering among these distracted thoughts, marveling at 
 the change, and the revelations of the evening, another face took 
 its place in the mirror with hers. — Mr. Steele's entrance had not 
 been noticed. A sudden flash of pleasure thrilled every nerve. She 
 suffered herself to be led to the sofa — a pleading voice again be- 
 sought her decision. The amethystine gate was ajar, awaiting only 
 her touch. She hesitated, trembled, and pronounced her fate. 
 
 If you consider me worthy your esteem and confidence, I am 
 only too happy in that choice." 
 
 He caught her to his breast. He kissed her brown hair, ex- 
 caiming, — 
 
 "Thank God ! mine forever ! Ah ! my darling Lucy! true love 
 sees no unworthiness, it hears of no blemish, asks for no extenua- 
 tions, has no doubts, or fears. All these are incompatible with its 
 Divine effluence. Blessed hour ! which consummates my fondest 
 desires. Do you consent to leave all for me ? to become the light 
 of my far off Southern home? Repeat it, my sweet angel! is it in- 
 deed a realitv? " 
 
 " I shall find home and happiness in your presence, wherever 
 that may be." 
 
I04 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 William Steele tenderly raised the drooping head of the trusting 
 girl ; wiped away her tears with delicate tenderness, murmuring in 
 broken sentences, "Thank God! Joy unspeakable! Mine for- 
 ever ! " 
 
 In the season of ecstatic stillness which followed, the leafless 
 lilacs outside, groping with benumbed fingers against the house, 
 said to her heart, '' Stay with us ! stay, stay." The red-berries, bob- 
 bing against the window-panes, warned the fascinated girl, by their 
 mysterious knockings, "Go not, Lucy ! — no, no, Lucy ! — go not." 
 
 Wednesday morning opened a new era in the Clarendon family. 
 A genial complaisance shed a mellowing grace over words and 
 deeds. At the breakfast table, Roland officiated, as usual, at the 
 back of Mr. Steele's chair ; receiving another half dollar. Smok- 
 ins: hour in the office, resulted in referring all arrano:ements to the 
 judgment and wishes of the honored guest. 
 
 In the parlor, Mrs. Clarendon met her future son-in-law with a 
 warm maternal welcome. On his part, he was profuse in affection- 
 ate apologies for so suddenly robbing her of the light of the house- 
 hold. 
 
 Bedewing with a few becoming tears the smiles of her ill con- 
 cealed pride in Lucy's triumph, she replied; "I am highly flat- 
 tered, sir, by the honor of your choice. Lucy is onr darling. But 
 we have raised her with the usual expectation that her blossoming 
 beauty was maturing for the joy and possession of another. She 
 has been raised in the seclusion of Cloudspire, as the anemone 
 springs up amid of forest shadows. Her mind is purity itself 
 free from all taint of an artificial world ; but whatever of natural 
 and feminine graces may adorn her character, I most freely 
 consign them to your keeping. They are her only jewelb. When 
 I yield her to your devoted tenderness, sir, I feel that she is dow- 
 ered with what is more necessary to woman's existence, than aught 
 else — a husband's faithful, and abiding love." 
 
 Les affiances enjoyed the remainder of the morning alone, dis- 
 cussing the early marriage, and departure. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. IO5 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 '"T^HE sleeper's head turned in the hollow of the downy pillows. 
 JL Soft laces trembled, rose and fell, like snow-wreaths, wind- 
 lifted from their native banks. A pair of dark eyes opened lan- 
 guidly on the pleasantly shaded room — eyes quiet as the chamber 
 itself, clouded only by the drifting mist of vanishing dreams. The 
 proud mouth gathered up its relaxed curves, and the spiritless voice 
 called, " Zoe !" 
 
 Like a statue springing into life, the girl glided to the bed ; her 
 smiling lips replied, — 
 
 " I am here, my dear miss." 
 
 ♦' What is the hour ? " 
 
 The maid turned to the exquisite device on the marble shelf, and 
 said, — 
 
 " Birdie holds ' ten ' in his beak ; he has just taken it. Miss 
 Gracie !" 
 
 On this shelf — itself a fine relic from the ''Eternal City," — 
 was a clock, which measured the charmed air of the chamber into 
 golden hours for its favored occupant. A bird of Paradise picked 
 up from the heart of a rose, golden figures, indicating these hours, 
 and dropped them successively upon the bosom of an azure sea, 
 whence they floated from sight. 
 
 " Has mamma risen ? " 
 
 " Two hours since, miss ! " replied the attendant ; then fell to 
 adjusting the fine linen, and lace of her mistress' couch. " She has 
 ordered coffee, with strawberries and cream for you, and bade me 
 beg you to continue your rest and sleep, after." 
 
 A quick ring of the bell brought James to the door directly, with 
 a silver salver burdened with the lady's own silver morning service. 
 A dewy nosegay, freshly culled, lay beside the scarlet berries. 
 James knew hov/ to put together the morning bouquet, in a manner 
 to suit the most fastidious of the familv. The maid knew her 
 duties as well : — the exact amount of Mocha to be poured into the 
 
Io6 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 French china cup, — just the quantity of cream and sugar to be 
 added to the strawberries. 
 
 When this was accomplished, Zoe carried the salver to the bed 
 of her mistress ; offered spoons and napkins smoothed the inequali- 
 ties and balanced the rebellious waiter, taking airs upon itself for high 
 breeding. After the refreshment, she made the pillows more 
 downy, gave their frills a lesson of propriety, and placed the roses 
 thereon. She rang for James, met him on tip toe at the door, 
 closed it noiselessly, and sat down again, a statue, till sleep should 
 return to her young mistress in sweet visions and dreams. 
 
 Although a slave, Zoe enjoyed the luxury about her ; the elegant 
 appointments of her mistress' bed chamber were her pride. She 
 felt an ownership with Gracie Mowndes in all the charming sur- 
 roundings. The morning air, wafting in through the blinds 
 sweet garden odors, was as pleasant to her as to Grace ; and the 
 bird of Paradise held golden hours in his beak for Zoe as well. 
 
 She had not to sit long. She arose noiselessly, took a white 
 handkerchief, passed it over marble tops here and there, and 
 scrutinized it carefully at the blind. Faultlessly neat ! There was 
 no dust upon it for Grade's keen eye. She then began gliding 
 about from bureau to wardrobe, and from wardrobe to bureau, 
 rustling dresses here, inspecting ribbons and laces there, till an ele- 
 gant morning toilet was laid out, ready at her hands. Finally, a 
 small pair of satin slippers, with jeweled buckles glittering in ihe 
 narrow sunbeam on the carpet, were placed by the bed, and Zoe 
 dropped into her chair. 
 
 In a short time, the mistress called again, "Zoe"! There was 
 more life, and crispness in the word this time. The maid gave a 
 glance, a spring, and an answer in a breath 1 " Miss Gracie ! bir- 
 die has just taken ' eleven ' from the rose ! " 
 
 " I shall sleep no more ! Dress me." 
 
 While both were yet in the mysteries and intricacies of the dress- 
 ing room, there came a lively tap at the chamber door. Grace, 
 after a merry laugh, cried, — 
 
 " Ah ! I know you ! Thrice welcome, Leonore ! Zoe, — turn the 
 kev ! " 
 
 A young lady entered gaily, in a costly and elaborate walking- 
 dress, of which she appeared not the least conscious. With a fore- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. I07 
 
 finger raised for emphasis, she paused before Gracie. " Ah, you 
 naughty, naughty one ! Not dressed yet? This is one of our most 
 delicious spring mornings! Ale levante al salir del Sol ! Have you 
 forgotten all your Spanish ? The air is violet ! The long vistas of 
 our streets wear their sweetest haze. Oh, Gracie ! I feel ethereal- 
 ized — ready to float away among the clouds." 
 
 " Zoe, attend upon Leonore,' said Grace. 
 
 "Zoe ! dress your mistress immediately !" was the quick refort ; 
 while she removed her hat without aid, and drew off her gloves. 
 
 Gracie uttered a little scream, raised both hands, and asked the 
 hurried question, — 
 
 " Pray ! what is that on your hand, Leonore 1 " 
 
 This brought out a peal of gay laughter from the person ad- 
 dressed. Leonore would laugh audibly, wdth naive disregard to 
 conventional rules. She answered, — 
 
 " Just nothing at all, Gracie ! — slight scratches from the thorns 
 of our rose shrubbery. I drove old ' Joe ' out of the garden, and 
 cut the bouquet myself. Mamma was shocked, of course — but 
 you know, dearie, it is the style here, for every one to feel her 
 nerves tingling at some unpropitious fancy or another ! — Now, my 
 love, how are you, after the ball ? " 
 
 "Delightful ! Leonore ! of course the gayety and exhilaration of 
 of such a pageant is ever pleasing ; but more elevated attractions 
 swayed the concourse of last night ! — The god-like presence of 
 our Calhoun! — the noble majesty of Governor Hayne ! — the 
 brilliant gathering of Southern statesmen from other States, were 
 imposing to a Carolinian, or to any other true Southron, who holds 
 our interests paramount. You know the ladies of the South do not 
 lack patriotism." 
 
 " Yes, I know ; but let me congratulate you on having had the 
 honor of a promenade on the arm of 'Jupiter Tonens ! ' said 
 Leonore." 
 
 " Gracias ! The escort of any of the crowned heads of the 
 kingdoms, and empires of Europe, would not have been so high an 
 honor, as that promenade with Calhoun ! — Kings and emperors 
 but second the designs of their Cabinets ! In national policy, Cal- 
 houn's foot ever treads the pioneer's path alone. His declarations 
 are a law in themselves." 
 
Io8 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " My clear Grade ! you should have seen yourself, there ! — I de- 
 clare ! I thought myself in Rome, in the days of her ancient glory. 
 You seemed a 'Vestal Virgin,' wrapped in reverence, and devotion, 
 — the 2:uardian of the sacred Palladium of Southern Riiihts." 
 
 "AhT' replied Gracie with a sigh, *' willingly would 1 become 
 so. But it would be revolting to my nature to hold these continual 
 controversies with that Northern people. They are of baser blood, 
 and as persistent as all ignorance is. We are of honorable birth 
 in the old country. These adverse elements will not assimilate. 
 It was a mistake, this union of South Carolina and Georgia with 
 the other States, after the Revolutionary War, at the framing of the 
 Constitution. They should have seceded then, and there. They 
 should have formed themselves into a separate nation." 
 
 '• Hold ! Gracie. I walked over here this morning, and gave 
 mamma another shock, because I would not order the carriage ; 
 I came purposely to have a cosy chat with my bosom friend. You 
 must remember I am not an extreme Southerner. Do not allow 
 your sweet self to be shocked now. No tenemos tie?7ij)0 de hacer ese. 
 Let us speak of other things." 
 
 " Es verdadj qucrida LcoJioi'c. Hay 7nil cosas cerca de las cuales 
 querejHOS hab.'ar. I so wish to inquire about one of your partners 
 in the dance last night. He was a stranger, was he not.-* He has 
 not the air of our young men — he appeared somewhat confused." 
 
 "He is a Northerner — I will frankly tell you — came as a 
 teacher in Major Signal's family on the Island. He is now study- 
 ing law in uncle's office in this cit3^ There, dear, you are dressed ; 
 you are more a Vestal Virgin than ever. Is not that one of the 
 white morning robes sent you from Paris ? — Can you not dismiss 
 Zoe ? " 
 
 ''Certainly. Zoe, go to mamma for orders." 
 
 Leonore drew an arm-chair close by her own, looking very 
 wisely, and saying, — 
 
 "Now, darling, sit by me — le: me see your eyes." After a pref- 
 atory, gleeful laugh, a shake of the head^ and a solemn, reticent 
 delay, she said, '* Ah! my lady ; I have a secret to confide ! — Ah 1 
 will I ? — No ! — yes — a secret, so precious, so sweet, so divine ? — 
 Ah! you must share it. Just think of it ! I came all this way on 
 my two feet; and brought it without a carriage." Raisuig the 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. IO9 
 
 fore-finger again, " Now this secret, like a chapter in a novel, be- 
 gins with poetry, supposed to have some reference to what fol- 
 lows.'' 
 
 Mischief was in her eyes, and pathos in her voice, as she half 
 spoke, half chanted the lines of Hemans, — 
 
 "Oh ! ye beloved, come home! the hour 
 
 Of many a greeting tone, ' . 
 
 The time of hearth-light and of song 
 Returns — and ye are gone ! 
 
 Where finds \t_you our wandering one ? 
 
 With all your boyhood's glee 
 Untamed ; — beneath the desert's palm, 
 
 Or on the lone mid sea ? 
 
 'Mid stormy hills of battles old 
 
 Or where dark rivers foam ? 
 Oh ! life is dim where 3-e are not — 
 
 Back, ye beloved ! come home I 
 
 Come with the leaves and winds of Spring 
 
 And swift birds o'er the main ! 
 Our love is grown too sorrowful, 
 
 Bring us its youth again ! 
 
 Bring the glad toi>es to music back — 
 
 Still, still your home is fair ; 
 The spirit of your sunny life 
 
 Alone is wanting there." 
 
 A tender mist veiled the eyes turned toward the speaker. A 
 tremulous voice made answer. 
 
 " Thou syren, Leonore ! Why stir the transparent depths of 
 memory, and thus lure my frail 'hope deferred' to wrecking 
 again ?" 
 
 •' Listen to the echo, Grace. £s ?nuy e?ica7itador ! 
 
 ' The stately ship hath touched the quay, 
 Freighted with treasures o'er the sea! 
 But the rarest things it brought to land. 
 Were a faithful heart and a knightly hand ? ' " 
 
 "Prophetess! What do you say," ejaculated Gracie, as she 
 seized the hand of her smiling guest. 
 
no WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "lam saying that — hearken! that Ralph Haywood — do not 
 turn so pale — that Ralph Haywood has stepped from the deck ot 
 the Sumter upon his native shore." 
 
 More pallid still, the listener fell back in her chair, clasped her 
 hands, and faintly whispered, — 
 
 "When?" 
 
 Leonore applied restoratives, always at hand; stirred the fragrant 
 air with a laugh, a fan, and light ridicule, till her friend besought 
 her to answer, — 
 
 "When? When?" 
 
 " Never ! till your color is regained, and you have taken a turn 
 with me on the piazza. Then, dearie, I am at your service 
 Come." 
 
 Arm in arm these petted girls walked slowly up aud down under 
 the shadows of fresh spring leaves : stopping now and then, to 
 pull a rose, or a cluster from the exuberance heaping the balus- 
 trade. Both were tall, dignified and graceful. The faces of both 
 wore the untamed, commanding hauteur, incident to Southern 
 breeding. Both stood rapturously upon the brink of that woman- 
 hood, which time, and custom have mapped out as the " Ultima 
 Thidc"' of wandering maiden's feet. Both peered over this brink 
 into the purple distance, without foreboding, and without fear. 
 
 "Grace, dearie, 3'OU are restored ; let us return to the privacy of 
 your chamber." They entered, were seated as before. " There ! 
 take this fan, and these salts. I will inform you ' when '. The 
 Sumter rolled outside the bar all last night ; this morning early, 
 she came to the wharf. Ralph is at the old family mansion, re- 
 cruiting after the voyage. He will not go out to-day, so you will 
 have ample time to rally yourself, and resume your usual self- 
 control." 
 
 " How were you so fortunate as to learn this ? " asked Grace, 
 reclining in her chair for support. 
 
 "Adolph De Bourbon from Augusta, called this morning. 
 Ralph will positively not go out to- day " 
 
 An interval of thought ensued ; it was interrupted by Grace. 
 
 " Leonore, if our first meeting had already taken place, compo- 
 sure were easier. When I shall meet Ralph's first glance, will it 
 be one of unmingled joy on his part, or shall I detect a shade of 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. Ill 
 
 disappointed expectation, at any change which absence may have 
 wrought in me? There are beautiful women in France. How 
 shall I bear the comparison ? " 
 
 Her face grew whiter. Such laughter as followed! It were a 
 panacea for invalids. Such fearless, echoing laughter! Grace 
 was forced to join, while gleaning, in broken fragments, Leonore's 
 
 replv. 
 
 "Who would ever have thought this, that Grace Mowndes, the 
 high-born, blue-blooded, refined, elegant, and accomplished daugh- 
 ter of this State, could depreciate her superb claims, as the 'Queen 
 of Knighdv Hearts.' Our gentlemen are not easily entrapped by 
 the vulgar attractions of fleshly charms. We cannot all have fea- 
 tures of* approved Grecian mould. All cannot have cheeks colored 
 after the latest rose in the garden. Reflect, dearie. Have you 
 not packages of letters honied with Ralph's devotion? Do you 
 think Ralph Haywood would swerve from his first love ? Is he not 
 a true South Carolinian ? and would he cast the shadow of a pain 
 upon one of her fair daughters ? These troubled thoughts of yours 
 are the inseparable attendants of Love. Cast them out, Gracie ! 
 There are no obstacles in your path, as there are in mine ; and " 
 she added resolutely, " there are none in mine, that decision and 
 address will not remove." 
 
 If there were acerbity and sarcasm in this hopeful appeal, the 
 listener failed to perceive it, and replied, " You are a strong com- 
 forter, Leonore. You are a flood of sunlight, suddenly poured 
 from a cloud-rift. Let me put away my selhsh joy, to ask you, 
 dear girl, what is meant by obstacles in your path ? " 
 
 " What will surprise you, Gracie ; that which might as well be 
 frankly confessed ; for this kind of secrets cannot be kept ; I await 
 difficulty in more wavs than one ] however, I think myself equal to 
 the hour. The blushing, confused stranger with whom you saw 
 me dance last night, is the beau ideal of my imagination ; more — 
 he is the absolute, confirmed choice of my heart. A wayward 
 heart you may call it, perhaps. Something like winds from far off 
 lands whispered o'er and o'er to my soul his name, tuneful, and 
 sweet, Gracie ! this still prophecy has o'er-mastered me ! " 
 
 "Leonore! Leonore! Why stoop so low? Why tarnish the 
 bright record of your family name, by bestowing your peerless love 
 
ri2 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 SO unworthily? Can you not control your affections ? Will not your 
 undaunted strengh of mind turn them into proper channels ? " 
 
 " That is the question, my dear friend. What is the proper 
 channel? Love is like those winged, or plumed seeds, which, 
 with sails set, traverse the viewless air, and come to anchor in all 
 manner of havens. One of these has stealthily lodged in my 
 heart — has germinated — has sprung into green life. It has blos- 
 somed into admiration of the grand capacity, the noble virtues, and 
 serene equipoise of the soul of Hubert Hastings." 
 
 " 1 am truly shocked at your words, Leonore ; " grieved Gracie. 
 She gazed long and pitifully into the inspired eyes of her reckless 
 friend, as she mentally termed Leonore. With a sorrowful air she 
 asked, — 
 
 '* Is not this Northerner one of those adventurers who come 
 among us so frequenth^, in pursuit of fortune? and with whom it 
 is not our custom to form intimate relations ? Is he not without 
 wealth, or rank ? " 
 
 *' Alas ! my dear Gracie ! what are our customs, but blown and 
 painted shells, filled with emptiness, from which no singing birds 
 of joy can ever spring ? " 
 
 She extended the thorn-marked hand at arms length, clenched 
 the soft lingers earnestly, saying, — 
 
 " I crush them into nothingness 1 " She opened her hand palm 
 down, and continued, '* I grind them to powder beneath my 
 feet! 
 
 • The rank is but the guinea's stamp, 
 A man's a man for a' that ! 
 
 Gie fools their silk, and knaves their win«, 
 
 A man's a man for a' that ! 
 For a' that, and a' that ; 
 
 Their tinsel show, and a' that ; 
 The honest man, though e'er sae poor, 
 
 Is king o' men for a' that ! 
 
 A prince can make a belted knight, 
 
 A marquis, duke, and a' that ; 
 But an honest man's aboon his might, 
 
 Gued faith, he maunna fa' that I ' " 
 
 During the recitation of the last verse, she caught up Grace, and 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. II3 
 
 the two went waltzing about the chamber, into the dressing-room 
 and out of it, into the corners and out of them, and around the 
 bright chairs, till a bloom crept into Grade's cheeks, and both 
 voices sparkled with mirth. They took seats, rosy and panting. 
 
 Leonore drew a long breath, from which flashed a smile. 
 
 " Gracie, nerve yourself now, I am going to analyze some of 
 our customs, and with their fragments build fortifications around 
 myself." 
 
 Zoe passed through the hall to the piazza, placed two tables and 
 chairs, spread a lunch of ice cream and cake, tapped at Grade's 
 door, and invited the young ladies to refreshment. 
 
 "First take our marriages, — the most of them have blood, rank, 
 or wealth, for their basis. The true instinctive love for another ^- 
 this latent spark of earth's blessedness, struck from the throne of 
 Omnipotence, and inlaid by God's own hand in every human soul 
 alike, is often counted for nothing. The bond which holds these 
 unions is the formula of the priest. The wife, fortified by her own 
 sense of virtue, patiently accedes to these terms." 
 
 "Now, inseparable from these marriages, is the twin custom, 
 granting the husband unrestrained freedom for unbridled passion; 
 or, for the gratification of this love, which w i/l sii enthroned in the 
 human heart. With this most precious gift of existence, man en- 
 dows the object of his fancy or choice. These are usually selected 
 from his slaves; from our quadroons, our octaroons, or often from 
 Africa's own children of velvety blackness ! " 
 
 Hush ! Leonore ! — I pray!" shrieked Grace, holding up one 
 hand as a shield from these daring asseverations, and fanning vio- 
 lently with the other, — " your language outrages every feeling of 
 delicacy and affection a Southern lady may possess. Pause ! my 
 best friend; you are doing violence to the sanctity and holiness of 
 Southern homes. Surely, the records of your family and mine have 
 never borne so foul a blot ! — I have no desire to contemplate a 
 theme so horrifying and repulsive. My dear Leonore ! some evil 
 guest must have nestled in your breast, and undermined your child- 
 hood's faith in the spells of Home ! — I conjure you, 
 
 'By the household tree through which thme eye ■ 
 First looked in love to the summer sky; 
 
114 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 * By the shiver of the ivy leaves 
 To the wind of morn, at thy casement eaves ; 
 By the bees' deep murmur in the limes, 
 By the music of the sabbath chimes ; ' 
 
 Dear Leonore ! I conjure you to cast out these demons so abhor" 
 rent to the gentle trust of woman." 
 
 She had risen, and now stood before her guest, 
 
 "And her proud pale brow had a shade of scorn 
 Under the waves of her dark hair worn." 
 
 Leonore rose also ; and with each an arm about the other's 
 waist, they passed under the flowery lace-curtain through the win- 
 dow upon the piazza. With slow and stately step, like sisters o^ 
 royal birth, they traversed its length again and again. Leonore's 
 auburn curls touched confidentially the glossy dark braids of her 
 companion, while the conversation continued, — 
 
 '* Nay, Gracie ! my faith, or want of faith, is founded in the 
 actual — the real. ]My source of information is reliable. You 
 know my dwarf, ' Toad ' — my maid ? Very well. She is fond of 
 me, and I encourage her to speak freely on many subjects. * Toad' 
 has lived and breathed in the charmed circle of those very customs 
 which so shock you. Her narrations of gentlemen who have a 
 white and black wife at the same time, chill my blood ! and she has 
 shown to my surprise, the preference our single gentlemen have 
 for black women over white ! *' 
 
 " I protest ! " cried Grace. " How can you put any confidence 
 in the deceptive representations o"f a slave ! " 
 
 "Why, do you not see, that when what is related runs parallel 
 with one's own personal observations, one //z/zi"/ believe ? Let me 
 convince you. You know that Alphonse, my oldest brother, is not 
 married ! That his friends constantly rally him upon his indif- 
 ference to feminine charms, and upon his bachelor habits. At 
 parties, balls, and social gatherings, you know with what polite 
 but cool gallantry he meets the grace and beauty around him ! Very 
 well, asrain. The* disclosures of ' Toad ' set me to thinkins:. I 
 have found, Grace, the shrme of his worship ! I have seen him 
 leave our elegant mansion, and enter the small humble house, 
 where daily awaits him, the mother of his two children. I 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. II5 
 
 have heard her glad laugh ring at his coming, I have seen her 
 dark brown face — the same as are bought and sold at our marts 
 every day in the week ! Now Gracie Mowndes, do you suppose 
 Alphonse does this from compulsion ? He, whose will has never 
 been crossed, whose desires have n^^ver been thwarted, 'from the 
 cradle up ? ' What impels him to spend days, and nights with her ? 
 — to dress her with refinement, but this instinctive power of which 
 I have spoken ? I have seen his children, when ' Toad ' has pur- 
 posely delayed their nurse while giving them an airing in the 
 street ! Brown children ! resembling their father ! — decked with 
 gay dresses, and children's baubles ! Gracie, this is truth. 
 Why tremble ? Ah ! these are the weapons of my defence when I 
 shall be called to an account for loving the intelligent, refined 
 Northern student, Hubert Hastings." 
 
 "I must decline to beheve this, or reply. It is repugnant. 
 Your welfare is dear to me ; but now, seriously, is this the end of 
 the noble Scotch line of Wallace ? Does the Highland lassie, the 
 scornful beauty, who has refused titled suitors of other lands, yield 
 to the prentensions of a landless, toiling adventurer ? " 
 
 " Oh ! ho ! my dearest, wisest monitor ! Methinks the noble 
 Wallace line became merged in African blood, long before this ! 
 And as to the ' titled suitors,' I never liked men : I had, and still 
 have a decided aversion to their stereotyped compliments, and de- 
 votional exercises for every new girlish face they may meet. It 
 belittles woman. It robs her of what scanty individuality she may 
 possess. For this reason, 
 
 *I said there was naething I hated like men ; 
 The deuce gae \Yi'm to believe me, believe me ; 
 The deuce gae wi'm to believe me.' 
 
 As to pretensions, Gracie, Hubert makes none. Truthfulness 
 modesty, and sincerity are his only jewels. He m.ay have been a 
 bare-footed boy, — gleaning life and virtues among the rugged 
 hills of the North. I care not ! — He's poor, — I care not ! 
 
 ' Oh, gear will buy me rigs o'land. 
 
 And gear will buy me sheep and kye ; 
 But the tender heart o'leesome luve 
 
 The gowd and siller canna buy,' " 
 
Il6 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 They entered the chamber. Leonore gave her friend an embrace 
 frank and fresh as spring's early breath. She held her out at arm's 
 length — showered upon her playful smiles, dimples, and glances, 
 — demanding to know if her secret were safe .? Then, answer- 
 ed her own question by saying, — 
 
 "Safe enough, I believe, darling! for now, at this sweet crisis, 
 Leonore will find no place among the delicious dreams of Gracie ! 
 
 Now I am going. An rcvoir^ ma chere !'^ 
 
 " Stay ! How was Hastings admitted to the ball last night? " 
 
 " By the magic of Leonore, dearie ! You know uncle sets me up, 
 his idol — grants all my wishes. I hinted to him that no Ameri- 
 can should be debarred from the elevating, instructive presence of 
 our statesmen ; etc., etc ! " 
 
 Leaving a fragrant kiss for Gracie. she fluttered away like a sing- 
 ing bird, lost amid forest arches. 
 
 Mrs. Mowndes hastened to her daughter's room to inquire for 
 her health, after the ball. She stepped in through the lace cur- 
 tained- window from the piazza, saying with solicitude, — 
 
 " My dear child ! your lunch remains untouched ! " 
 
 " True, mamma ! we had forgotten it." 
 
 Grace met her with unusual feeling. Mrs. Mow^ndes became 
 alarmed, and endeavored to convince herself, that Grace was not 
 quite well, — that Leonore should not have been admitted — that 
 sne should have continued her rest, and many other anxious sug- 
 gestions, which Grace brought to an abrupt close, by throwing her 
 arms about her neck, and saying, — 
 
 " You are mistaken my dear mother ! you are mistaken ! I am 
 well, perfectly. Ah ! I have gladsome news for your ear ! " An 
 overwhelming joy thrilled every word! She took the maternal 
 hand, and led her to a seat, with the softened majesty a princess 
 might exhibit towards a queen mother. 
 
 Mrs. INIowndes' eye ran over the perfection of the figure, the 
 delicate complexion without a blemish, than which the white em- 
 broidered morning robe was scarcely fairer — the braids ravishingly 
 glossy and soft — the large midnight eyes, dilated with the new- 
 born transport which filled her whole being. She caught the 
 glances of those eyes so wondrously lighted. Her gaze dropped to 
 the jeweled slippers resting on the purple pansies of the carpet. 
 
^ WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. II7 
 
 This last was a ruse, to conceal the proud pleasure which meteor- 
 like, shot athwart the air of repose, which should accompany rank 
 and good breeding. Recovery was the work of an instant. Long 
 habit renders dissimulation easy. In her usual throne like dig- 
 nity she said, — 
 
 " Speak ! my daughter ! Your spirit overflows with a sudden 
 sunburst of delight ! What tidings move you thus ? " The reply 
 was a question, — 
 
 " Dear mamma ! can you not surmise ? Do you not know that 
 but one thing could move me thus? What if I tell you a new star 
 has returned to the guiding cynosure of South Carolina ! one in 
 whom the exalted emotions of patriotism, and the promptings of 
 valor will find no superior among our annals of public virtues ! 
 Ah ! mamma, what if I tell you that such an one floated into port 
 to-day, with the yellow radiance of morning ! And, wait ! What 
 if I add that this distinguished voynger is not an alien ! but that 
 his name is enrolled among the most illustrious of our State ! " 
 
 Her lustrous eyes kindled into new glory, while waiting for her 
 mother to speak the cherished name. Her long lashes at first rose 
 and fell triumphantly; afterwards, as if moved by the haunting fear 
 expressed to Leonore, her lids dropped. 
 
 Mrs. Mowndes calmly took Grade's hand, kissed cheeks and 
 brow, and drew her to her bosom. 
 
 " My sweet ! my darling ! how can I fail to recognize the idol 
 of her who is dearer to me than life ! How can I fail to read the 
 lovely signals of woman's holy trust ! How can my breast fail to 
 become imbued with the supreme happiness of this moment ! 
 Gracie, my darling, how deeply, indeed, does my heart reiterate 
 your joy! What do I behold .J"" Tears! my angel — tears! The 
 hearts glad sunshine veiled in sorrow ? Wherefore, my daughter ! 
 wherefore? Control yourself, — this is but the effect of over- 
 wrought nerves, — too delicate for a night of gayety ! " 
 
 "No! no! I should be content if physical causes were the 
 source of this agitation, — the remedy would be most easy and 
 natural. You have seen our rice fields swept by alternate rolling 
 billows of light, and shadow, when drifting clouds pass over the 
 sun, mamma ! Like the swaying rice fields am I ! Shadowy 
 apprehensions chase golden hopes, and my soul is strangely swept 
 by both." 
 
Il8 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " You sto.rtle me, ray daughter ! ' Shadowy apprehensions ? * 
 Pray, hasten to explain ! These words prove as mystical as the 
 falling tears I Come to your bed, my child! recline upon it. 
 Your gentle soul is too cruelly tortured." 
 
 This overture Grace steadily refused, and sh-ove to allay the 
 solicitude of her mother, by taking again a calmer manner, say- 
 
 " These tears are like the sudden droppings of a light scud, 
 crossing the blue sky. They fall in the sunshine, and are exhaled 
 in its rays. 
 
 " Mamma, you remember our visit to Lausanne during our last 
 tour in Europe ? " 
 
 " Certainly, my dear." 
 
 "You remember Ralph joined us at Geneva? He had just re- 
 turned from Egypt, whither he went to purchase an Arabian ; 
 he accompanied us as far as Lausanne ?" 
 
 "Distinctly.-" 
 
 " You call to mind also my persistence in stopping at the Inn, 
 *Ancre' on the shore of the lake, where Byron wrote the 'Pris- 
 oners of Chillon?' — that together, we remained the same number 
 of days as the illustrious poet had done before ? " 
 
 " Yes, my darling ! The spot possessed as much interest for me 
 as for yourself." 
 
 "Was I then — mamma — was I — beautiful ? The magnificence 
 of the scenery, the sunny presence and adoration of Ralph, were 
 sufncient to cast out narrow thoughts of self. Since that delight- 
 ful hour, I have made some advances in lessons of the world. Its 
 hollow flattery is not to be trusted. ^Mamma, was I beautiful — 
 then ? " 
 
 " You were the centre of all eyes. Wherever your steps strayed, 
 a gentle, queenly grace marked every motion. The classic mould 
 of your features was the topic of all lovers of art whom we met, in 
 our travels. You were Madonna and Sultana in one. Grace, my 
 daughter, why this question of long ago '^ The present should 
 most deeply interest you now." 
 
 "Mamma, it was then, while strolling along the shores of the 
 deep blue waters of lake Geneva, that Ralph made a declaration of 
 his pure and faithful love. A few hours after, while my heart was 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. II9 
 
 yet in a tumult of sweet hopes and delicious dreams, I sat in the 
 very room where Byron wrote his immortal poem. Ralph entered, 
 radiant in manly beauty ; took my hand in his, raised it to his 
 lips, and sportively said, 'I make you my Prisoner of Chillon ! ' 
 He placed this upon my finger, and continued impressively, 'With 
 this ring I bind you to the pillar of my changeless affection ! ' He 
 pointed to the diamond, raised my hand again to his lips, and 
 bade me remember that the sparkling light should be the reflection 
 of the bright waters of lake Geneva, — a Bonnivard's window to 
 my soul." 
 
 During thisJolushing confession Grace sat fixedly, contemplating 
 the costly symbol of imprisonment. Her dark lashes suddenly 
 raised to her mother. 
 
 "Mamma, you aver that strangers called me beautiful, tJie7t. 
 Without partiality tell me — without the loving deception which 
 would naturally color your reply — am I beautiful now 2 Ami 
 changed ? Am I less attractive in person or manner ? " 
 
 Mrs. Mowndes with many caresses bade her daughter dismiss all 
 uneasiness. She assured her that in graces of person, in symme- 
 try of form, in that which pleases the eye and charms the senses, 
 she was more voluptuously developed than at the time of parting 
 with her lover at Lausanne. " But," she added, with increased 
 dignity of demeanor, '' in the intrinsic beauty of a noble and high- 
 born spirit you have made great advances. This loveliness which 
 is addressed to the understanding never fades or palls upon the 
 taste. This it is which illumines and glorifies all exterior attrac- 
 tions. My daughter, it is quite humiliating to witaess this distrust 
 of yourself. Let a descendant of English Peerage on the one side, 
 and of unyielding, independent Huguenot blood on the other, 
 rather exalt, than depreciate herself. My daughter, does not the 
 blood of these two ancestries blend in you ? Dissipate, I pray, 
 these unworthy fears. Recall your wonted composure. I give you 
 joy for this clay of ripened hopes." 
 
 She besought Grace to take a drive in the fresh spring air. She 
 rang for Zoe, bade her dress her young mistress, and order the 
 carriage at the proper time. The only obstacle to this arrange- 
 ment was suggested by Grace; that Ralph might reverse his de- 
 cision for retirement, and seek her ai home during her absence. 
 
I20 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Grace set herself to regain the complacency and winning vivac- 
 ity so requisite to the conventionalities of evening dress and prom- 
 enade. Now Grace and Zoe were much more familiar than was 
 customary with mistress and maid. Zoe loved to dress and adorn 
 her mistress, as the sculptor delights to chisel into life new graces 
 from the marble under his hands. The fastening a bow, tying a 
 sash, adjusting a long heavy plait of hair, were for her, pleasant 
 studies. Both were of nearly the same age and height. Zoe's 
 wealth of shining black curls were a match to Grace's dark braids. 
 Her skin had nearly the same clearness, except that the blusli of 
 Zoe's cheek colored with a richer carnation than Qrace's. Zoe's 
 style and manner were the complement of the mode of her mis- 
 tress, — it had the same aristocratic flavor. Many of Grace's par- 
 tially worn and handsome dresses were given to the maid, whom 
 they fitted at once. Perchance the pink and the blue, floating 
 about Zoe were a shade or two lighter than those worn by Grace ; 
 but like sunlight and moonlight, the one seemed the reflection of 
 the other — both were attractive. Their gayety was often recipro- 
 cal ; and in their mingled mirth was heard no discord. Their 
 voices were strangely similar — the natural pitch in unison, with 
 this difference, — that one seemed to procoed from an instrument 
 of subdued tone, and the other from one more brilliant. Wherever 
 they moved, one following the other, Zoe appeared the soft shadow 
 of Grace. 
 
 It was time for the toilet. Grace sat under the careful eye and 
 skillful fingers of her maid. 
 
 " Zoe, dress my hair more elaborately than usual — give it ele- 
 gance." 
 
 "De tout 7710JI coeur, ma chere 7naitresse ! It shall be the admiration 
 of all eyes." 
 
 (They often spoke a bit of French together.) 
 
 " iNIy lover has returned, Zoe — my lover from over the sea! 
 Carolina's noble son ! Dress me charmingly to-day ! Have a care 
 for every flounce and every fold ! — Oh! my heart is throbbing! 
 I cannot think ! " 
 
 " Leave all to Zoe, dear miss. Bury yourself in happy thoughts. 
 No lady in the land deserves a noble lover, more than mine." 
 
 While speaking, she passed the comb admiringly through and 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 12 1 
 
 through the raven, wavy tresses that swept over her arm to the 
 floor. 
 
 '' Close that bhnd ! It is too light ! " directed Grace. 
 
 " There is enough of sunshine in your heart, Miss Gracie ! " was 
 the gentle reply. 
 
 " Do you remember master Ralph Haywood, Zoe, before he 
 went to Europe ? " 
 
 " Yes, mistress ! as perfectly as if it were yesterday ! I recollect 
 his elegant figure ; and above all, his unceasing attentions to your- 
 self in his boyhood." 
 
 Silence, and attention to the immediate demands of the moment, 
 succeeded. Zoe knelt and rose, around Grace, like a priestess 
 before the shrine of the Virgin, — retired a few steps — turned her 
 head this way and that, to decide upon a certain effect — lifted a 
 bow here, bent a flower there, raised a puff, smoothed a plait, 
 wreathing every part of her task with her own smiles. 
 
 Grace paid no attention to Zoe's movements about her, nor 
 manifested recognition of the soft artistic touches to her costume ; 
 being lost in the rapid visions of the blissful future. The very 
 careless indifference of her standing posture, and her yielding 
 unconsciously to any suggestion, was an evidence of her implicit 
 faith in Zoe's taste, and of a perfect content in her sympathetic 
 companionship. 
 
 Zoe threw a glance, from time to time, upon the golden figure 
 which the bird of paradise held in his beak, and roused -Grace by 
 saying,— 
 
 " Now, my mistress, will you please step to the mirror ! The 
 carriage is readv ! " 
 
 She had removed every obstacle in her mistress' way towards a 
 survey of herself ; and now gave the long glass reaching to the 
 floor the right angle — observing carefully, at the same moment, 
 her who gazed therein. A bright look of 'approval was a sufficient 
 reward for Zoe. She opened the door, and stood aside for her 
 young lady to pass out. Both tripped down the broad stairs, 
 Grace's lovely shadow following. 
 
 King street was gorgeous Vvi'ih costly equipages, liveries, and the 
 beau inonde of the "City of the Sea "' ; the Mowndes' carriage, and 
 spirited pair dashed into the brilliant thoroughfare. Courtesy and 
 
122 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 recognition met Grace on ev^ery hand. Bevies of sparkling beau- 
 ties and belles sauntered slowly down the pavement, like troops of 
 butterflies, hovering and balancing in the sheeny air. Gay stream- 
 ers and delicate laces fluttered on the evening zephyr. Rich silks, 
 from London, Paris, Berlin, and Canton, rustled along the walk, 
 where ladies of selected blood chatted and smiled. They ad- 
 vanced, paused, waved jewelled hands, bowed, flattered ; — mur- 
 mured low and sweetly; — proffered elegant adieus, and swept on. 
 
 Grace alighted, joining the resplendent throng. Without com- 
 mand, springing hoofs, fiery eyes, and rearing beasts measured a 
 fretful progress with her leisurely, light-footed step. 
 
 Zoe, full of busy exultant plans for her beloved young mistress, 
 bethought herself of several duties to be dispatched during her 
 absence. Among these, was the cutting superfluous sprays of rose- 
 vines, thrust between, and over the balusters on the piazza, to the 
 great detriment of her lady's dresses. The wisteria, also, climbing 
 over the front end of the balustrade to the roof, had grown too 
 familiar; it should be draped away, and trimmed into symmetry. 
 She had just brought out her basket, and was giving the wisteria 
 her attention. Her slender figure robed in white could be plainly 
 seen from the street, amidst the tender green. Grape-like clusters 
 of purple blossoms embowered her head, and toyed with the shower 
 of soft black curls. The glow of excitement from the late toilet 
 still lingered in cheek and eyes. 
 
 Steps upon the pavement below, caused her to turn stealthily to 
 the street. The well-pleased gaze of a gentleman met her own. 
 He held his hat raised, and proffered a courtly bow. Zoe turned 
 her face quickly away, as if this act of consideraiion were not ob- 
 served. While proceeding with her work, her color deepened, and 
 her small hands trembled. 
 
 The bell rans:, — the servant ushered in a visitor. Zoe finished 
 cutting and training the wisteria, and moved on to the roses. 
 Sounds of joyful greeting, as of those long parted, rose from the 
 open parlor windows on the lower piazza. Confused exclamations 
 of glad surprise, and regrets reached her ; and the voices subsided 
 into the lower tones of ordinary conversation. She questioned, 
 who might be the handsome stranger? Could it be her young 
 lady's lover, Ralph Haywood ? If, indeed, it were he, w^hat could 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 123 
 
 induce him to bow deferentially to herself ? — to Zoe ! — the slave 
 cf Grace Mowndes ? 
 
 Zoe knew every word in the code of Southern morals. She knew 
 the opaUne hues of its lovely epidernnis-^the bitter juice of its full 
 and rounded mesosperm. She knew it to the core — she knew 
 the seeds of that core — that each one was a black and frozen 
 drop of agony, The white slave knew her value, weighed with 
 that " apple of discord. " There were times and places where she 
 had received warmer attentions than a cold courtly bow from the 
 street. Carolina's sons, of blood as high as Ralph Haywood's, had 
 besought her smiles, and humbly plead for her love. Bejewelled 
 hands^had often been kissed to her soft, enchanting eyes. True ! 
 it was a matter of course : but this could not occur on the public 
 thoroughfare — in the illuminating light of day. The sun never 
 beheld^it! no such insult was ever offered to his god-ship — in the 
 face and front of wealthy, luxurious mansions ! 
 
 A faintness at the thought of possible consequences of the fatal 
 salute, and of the unreasonable jealousy of her mistress, changed 
 the velvet bloom of her cheeks to pallor. She caught up the basket 
 half-filled with plump clusters, tendrils and sprays; pinken white 
 and yellow roses ; thorny stems and leaves ; threw in the scissors, 
 stole into Grade's chamber, and fell into the crimson arm-chair 
 recently occupied by her young lady duriug her interview with 
 Leonore. Equally striking, both pictures. There were tears for 
 both faces ! disquieting anxiety, and fear. Both silently plead for 
 pity and sympathy. A disinterested observer would have impul- 
 sively yielded it to the latter. Zoe clasped her slender white fin- 
 gers 'together, and wrung them, till her nails grew red as the petals 
 in her^basket. She elevated them to an Invisible Friend; raised 
 her pale face towards His viewless abode. She sunk back, with 
 a long, low moan, and helplessly cried, — 
 " Thou, God, seest me 1 " 
 
 As if it were a relief to speak even to empty air, wringing her 
 hands still, she moaned, — 
 
 '•' Oh ! I can ask for no other aid ! I am a slave. Stony hearts 
 surround me ! my wishes, my will, my truthfulness, my honor, my 
 faithful services, are of no more account to them than the dust 
 beneath their feet ! " 
 
124 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 She was startled by the departure of the visitor. She heard his 
 adieus, heard his ringing steps down the marble walk, and out inlo 
 the dead distance. She roused herself, strove to remove every 
 vestige of disquietude, and awaited the carriage. 
 
 Grace first entered the parlor. Mother and daughter held a pro- 
 longed conference. Both came up to the chamber together. Zoe 
 saw the storm approaching, but was grimly allowed to attend upon 
 Grace, before it broke. She was then told to stand and listen, 
 while they confronted her with her crime. 
 
 " So you have dared to assume the character of your mistress ? " 
 sharply questioned the matron. 
 
 "And you have dared to entice to yourself, the first greeting of 
 my affianced husband ! " chimed Grace. "A fine minx are you to 
 have about me ! " and the angry blood mounted to her hair. 
 
 " Believe me, my dear ladies ! " meekly interposed Zoe. The 
 first words of her justification were rudely broken off by the sharp, 
 wild words of Grace, — 
 
 "Believe 3'ou ! believe jw/ ! jjw/ ! full of brazen deceptive airs! 
 You slid like a serpent, among the branches of the wisteria, with 
 \\\Q purpose oi humiliating Ralph, and bringing gossiping disgrace 
 upon this family " 
 
 Mrs. Mowndes came to her assistance, — 
 
 " I saw him salute you myself, at the parlor window. It was 
 painful to witness his disappointment, v.'hen I assured him that 
 Miss Grace was out taking an airing. He insisted that he had 
 seen her at the upper piazza. Of course I would not explain to 
 him what I knew to be the shameful truth. I assured him that 
 his impassioned gaze had been subject to an illusion." 
 
 "So, so, indeed!'*' cried Grace. "Because I once wore curls, 
 you resolved to step into my shoes ! play the lady ! and — steal the 
 mistaken homage of a high-bred gentleman! Aha! I will give 
 you my shoes, which seem to fit you so admirably. Aha ! 1 will 
 teach you to remember the degraded race from which you have 
 sprung. I will teach you to remember you are a negro ! " 
 
 The proud beauty, panting with the vehemence of scorn and 
 rage, snatched off her slipper, glided swiftly to Zoe, and slapped 
 the panic-stricken, defenceless girl's face, with the practised preci- 
 sion of an amateur. 
 
4 
 
 !!illiiijj^' ! 
 
 '-^ife^EMSS 
 
 ^3w 
 
 UU 
 
 
 
 m 
 
 THE sister's QUAEREL. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 12$ 
 
 Zoe's hot blood burned, and flamed through her delicate skin, 
 wherever the infernal instrument of torture wounded Her pulses 
 sprang into a wild tumult. A lightning flash darted from her 
 hitherto appealing eyes ! — Then it was, that her " Invisible Friend,'' 
 saw her ! — and gently withdrew His sustaining hand from the 
 ources of her abused life. Her brain swam, S/u sank scjiseless to 
 the floor. She felt no pain, no passion, no bondage. Well, that it 
 were so ! for blue blood slumbered in Zoe's veins — natural instinct 
 might have stirred its dangerous depths in the maid, as well as in 
 the mistress. Greek might have met Greek. Hot blood might 
 have met its match in the same temperature. 
 
 The disheveled curls, flattened and tangled by recent blows, 
 trailed upon the velvet pansies of the carpet. 
 
 Mrs. Mowndes pointed to this, and made a gesture to her daugh- 
 ter. Grace quickly understood the intimation, and caught the 
 scissors from the basket of Zoe's green clippings. With the soft 
 tread of a panther, the madam crept to the heap of insensibility. 
 Wearing a malignant smile, she rapidly severed every vestige of a 
 ringlet from the beautiful head ! The shorn locks were indignantly 
 thrown into the basket for burning ; there, through their dead and 
 severed rings, peeped forth the purple, pink, and white of the dying 
 flowers. Zoe's white temples gleamed up stark, and unveiled. 
 
 Mrs. Mowndes and Grace, flushed with success, seated them- 
 selves, in whispered interchange of plans. 
 
 After a few moments, animation, unaided, returned to the pros- 
 trated Zoe. She arose feebly, weak and calm ! seeming to have 
 come from a far off land ! a stranger to those present ! She stood 
 for a few instants with lids cast down, striving with quickening 
 memory ; with the saddest of voices, she ventured to speak. 
 
 "My dear ladies ! I do not deny that I was on the piazza, and 
 that I saw that unfortunate act of politeness extended to me, your 
 slave, — but I beg. Miss Gracie, you will allow me to say, I did not 
 bow myself, and had no intention of taking 3^our respect and honor 
 to — me — your servant ! " 
 
 " Hush ! " retorted Mrs. Mowndes ; " not another word from 
 your treacherous lips ! Another falsehood, and I send you to the 
 work-house for twenty lashes ! " 
 
 " Your punishment for the present," said Grace, " is to take off 
 
126 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 your finery, go to the kitchen, and do the drudgery suited to your 
 impudence and condition. — Go ! — Leave my sight ! " 
 
 Zoe staggered to the stairs, and by the support of the friendly 
 railing, was striving to reach the hall below. James, the footman, 
 standing near, saw with a shudder the disfigured and tiembling 
 gill slowly decending : he took a rapid survey upward, set his foot 
 on the second stair, sprang lightly up, and fairly lifted her to the 
 floor. He took her arm, and lent her his strength to the kitchen 
 door — laid his hand caressingly on the bare head, and flew back 
 to his post, unobserved. 
 
 Zoe's mother, warned by the whispers of other servants in the 
 kitchen, met her silently ; caught her in loving arms, almost carry- 
 ing her up the dark and narrow staircase, to her own room. She 
 kissed o'er and o'er the half-blistered cheeks, and laid her upon 
 her own humble bed. 
 
 CHAPTER Vni. 
 
 THERE was no flagging in the interest of revival week at 
 Cloudspire. Edmund Stone, the hunch-back, fulfilled the 
 promise of a sermon upon the abodes of the Blest and the Lost. 
 A prophetic and solemn style of delivery, united with a wonderful 
 perspecuity of description, presented the scenes of Heaven and 
 Hell before the listener's eye with the vivid transitions of a moving 
 panorama ; inspiring unlimited confidence. His manner had the 
 assurance of a tourist, who had made an official inspection of both 
 regions. He laid the Heavenly streets like the walks of an orna- 
 mental flower garden, and paved them with pure gold. 
 
 The yellow gleaming of a golden pavement was exceedingly- 
 pleasant to those stern heads of families, whose entire earthly exist- 
 ence had become a weariness to the flesh, in pursuit of the precious 
 metal. 
 
 He next presented to view a pure river of the water of life, clear 
 as crystal, running through the midst of this aerial abode. To the 
 audience, this river was well enough in its way ; but not so inviting 
 a feature to New Englanders, as it would have been to caravan 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. \2^ 
 
 travelers, in dry and torrid regions. Crystal waters are a very 
 common incident — they pour over rocks — rush through the 
 meadows — wash the feet of forests. The wheels of the hay-carts 
 roll through them, dripping sunlighted drops, in showers. Many 
 of the audience thought they had seen some beautiful views in 
 earthly waters. Pictures of cattle, standing knee deep in the sheeny 
 flood, flecked with green, leafy shadows, or flaming with sunset 
 hues. The boys remembered the splashing of little birds, wading 
 in shallow places — and the white pond lilies which they brought to 
 the shore as soon as their height measured the length of a lily 
 stem. They thought of the swimming coves, and forgot Heaven ; 
 thinking only of a green terraqueous summer; but finally dropped 
 the subject by wondering if this " river of life " ever froze over 
 hard enough for skatino:. 
 
 The preacher passed from the crystal river to the " tree of life." 
 He assured them its varied fruits matured afresh every month. 
 To make it available for the millions of glorified spirits who might 
 seek its allurements, he described it as a Banyan, — its outspreading 
 branches dropping down light shafts, and taking root ; which in turn 
 again spread, thus extending over an immeasurable area. It would 
 be the sacred privilege of the saints to pluck these delicious fruits, 
 such as the scarlet apple, the luscious orange, the tawny pome- 
 granate, the velvet peach, the melting fig and plantain; besides 
 other heavenly varieties, never tasted by mortals. 
 
 His voice now ceased. He seemed to have gathered his audi- 
 ence around the celestial fruit, and left them. 
 
 In anticipation of his next division, he extended his thin hands 
 over the people, holding them there, as if from his finger-tips dis- 
 tilled the same lofty satisfaction which filled his own thoughts. 
 At length, vacant straggling smiles beamed forth at the impressive 
 announcement, "There is no sorrow nor crying there! " — A bil- 
 low of smiles passed over the crowd of upturned faces, as a wave of 
 sunlight rolls over grain fields. Those of the congregation broken 
 down by hard and struggling lives, and who had each dwelt from 
 childhood in their own separate vales of tears, hollowed out by 
 their own industry, this vale being almost their only earthly posses- 
 sion, — these felt a strong desire for the solidity of golden streets, 
 and the smooth tract of that sea of glass which could fwt be in- 
 
I 28 WHITE MAY AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 dented into "vales." Those worn women who had, through a te- 
 dious life, listened to crying of all degrees, from the early cradle, 
 almost to the grave, looked up refreshed. 
 
 The climax was reached in the description of the foundations of 
 Heaven — laid in precious stones; — jasper, sapphire, emerald, 
 topaz, beryl and amethyst. He dwelt upon the dazzling brilliancy 
 of each — rainbow-hued and perpetual. He showed the twelve 
 gates — each gate of one pearl — "a soltaire." 
 
 The young maidens of these rural districts, who had never seen a 
 diamond, or a pearl, except in dreams, and as appertaining only to 
 royalty and rank, resolved then and there, that heaven should be 
 their home; — they would go forward for prayers that very day. 
 If, in the course of Providence, they had been denied the lots of 
 princesses, with these perishable insignia of rank, in this life, they 
 could at least win an ever-enduring palace, whose imperial walls 
 and gates should glitter with gigantic gems. 
 
 Edmund Stone wept with joy over the recognition of friends, 
 on hi£:h. Mothers would know their children — children would 
 rush to parental arms — husbands would again enfold lost wives — 
 and vice versa. The hunch-back rose on his toes, turned his eyes 
 upwards, and spread his palms towards the ceiling; as if to clutch 
 the hands of unseen spirits. Happy thought ! Theologians had 
 within a few years changed the locality of " babes and sucklings," 
 from the burning pit to the more tender nursery of the '' Saint's 
 Rest." They had considerately and paternally placed their tender 
 infantile feet on the golden streets, and plumed their tiny souls with 
 
 snowy wmgs 
 
 Hence the Rev. Stone, ever a hard student of contested doc- 
 trines, chose that infants should flutter on cherubic pinions to the 
 pearly gates, like white doves, to welcome the arrival of long-lost 
 mothers. Attenuated Mrs. Limpsey lifted her gaze upon the 
 speaker with a filmy glow of joy in her pale gray eyes. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Limpsey had a claim upon this portion of the dis- 
 course that few others could boast. In her youth she began as far 
 back in the Bible as the time of Noah, piously intending that her 
 life should be an illumination of all its pages, to Revelation. But 
 she had never found time or strength to get beyond the first com- 
 mand, " Be ye fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 1 29 
 
 Mr. Limpsey, her lawful husband and protector, perceiving this 
 spiiilual want of his wife — that of progress in the " Divine life," — 
 selected for her the most life giving sentiment of Paul's epistles. 
 Wnile stemming the tide of life's cares and duties, he walked 
 backwards towards his consort, ever holding aloft, above all minor 
 considerations, this flaming torch of the ancient Scriptural Bache- 
 lor, — "Wives, submit yourselves to your husbands." Thus did she 
 ever feel herself supported in the fulfillment of both the old and 
 the new dispensations. 
 
 Mrs. Limpsey had given the town and church twenty-one evi- 
 dences of her obedience to the command given to Noah. Thirteen 
 of these pious offerings were called back to Heaven at an age 
 when no doubts could be entertained of their salvation ; and doubt- 
 less they were now flying about the Golden City, awaiting her arrival. 
 Blessed thought! A faint smile flitted in among the wrinkles, but 
 flitred as quickly away. 
 
 Farmer Windham, who had parted sorrowfully at the graves of 
 four wdv'es, and was nov/ living with a fifth — a thoughtless girl 
 of eighteen, making sad havoc with his earthly possessions — cast 
 a "wishful eye " upward — then bent his head, that he might more 
 vividly anticipate the numerous rapturous embraces awaiting him 
 in the world beyond. Thus over the old church, smiles, sighs and 
 tears wreathed the high pulpit, and formed a halo around the head 
 of the marvelous prophet. 
 
 The lizard changes color, conforming to the objects upon which 
 it crawls. So changed Edmund Stone. A cloud of gloom settled 
 upon his narrow, retreating brow. His lips compressed — his 
 head drooped. Then the clenched hands lifted, the crooked form 
 straightened ; and in an agonized voice he shrieked, — 
 
 "Who among the congre2:ation would be lost in hell? 
 
 " Who would go down into the lake of fire and brimstone ? 
 
 "Who, amidst flame and torture, through eternal ages would cry, 
 I'm burning ! I'm burning ! Tm burning ? 
 
 " Who would plunge into a never-ending eternity of torture, 
 wherein the wrath of God will 7ie7^er be appeased ? 
 
 Who would be shut from the pearly gates of Heaven, and drop 
 into the bottomless pit ; where the smoke of their torment ascend- 
 eth up, forever and ever ? 
 
130 V/HITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 *' No limpid ' river of life ' in Hell, my friends ; not one drop of 
 water to cool your parched tongues ! No tree for the healing of 
 your pains casts its shade in these frightful precincts." 
 
 Taking up the word '■ forever," and dilating upon its length, he 
 slowly disintegrated a mountain, atom by atom. He allowed a 
 million of years to the removal of each infinitesimal particle. With 
 impressive pauses interspersed, he guided the imagination from one 
 mountain to a whole range ; and from one range to all the known 
 ranges on the globe. 
 
 "And yet, my hearers," said he, "these immeasurable millions 
 of years are but the beginning of torment " He pictured whole 
 nations launched into this Gehenna ; communities and individuals, 
 hosts unnumbered, writhing, cursing, and blaspheming in the sul- 
 phurous abyss. A fiendish carnival of moans, groans, shrieks, and 
 curses, carried on in every language spoken by men. He con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " Over this gulf of endless death, this jargon of lost souls fetid 
 with unforgiven sin, hideous volumes of black vapors continually 
 lift themselves ; like funereal plumes overhanging the wailings of 
 the damned. These deadly vapois, falling back whence they 
 came, in stifling mephitic showers, kindle afresh with their noxious 
 gases, the fires that never die." 
 
 The hideous acme of success was reached. A glowing Tartarus 
 had been uncovered, and its suffocating smoke ascended into the 
 very nostrils of his congregation. Grim horror met his gaze on 
 every hand. The pulpit seemed to rise up monumented from the 
 midst of damned souls. There remained only one point to be 
 gained, this frozen gloom must melt to repentant tears. 
 
 A ready tactician, as well as a deep theologian was Edmund 
 Stone. With lowered tone as in subdued despair he cried, — 
 
 "No God is there, my friends ; no God is there ! The ineffable 
 glory and mercy of His face are veiled from the sight of the Lo6t. 
 Amid those lapping tongues of flame. He will not walk, as He 
 walked with His servant Daniel ; your deepest prayers will never 
 soften His terrible anger. Lost once, my hearers, lost forever ! 
 Lost ! lost ! lost ! " 
 
 This was Friday, the last of the active labors of this harvest 
 week. Therefore, he chose the great moral engine of Fear ; which 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. I3I 
 
 should move alike the young and the old, the timid and the indif- 
 ferent. He worked its levers with the power of a demon, and the 
 sao-acity of a connoisseur. He dragged the entire reason and will 
 of Ills hearers after him by its sheer mechanical force, whether they 
 would or no. He closed by giving the terrific shriek of an engme 
 Hearing the " station." His shrill wailing cry dropped into the 
 square box pews and rose among the dusky galleries. 
 
 "Woe, woe, woe, unto you who live in this day of gospel light ! 
 if you turn not your feet from the black abyss of a yawning^ Hell. 
 Choose ye this hour — this moment, your future abode? Will ye 
 dwell forever in eternal fire ? or will ye enter the pearly gates, and 
 walk the golden streets ? The great Jehovah is here, awaiting 
 your decision. Will you let him depart, counting this day as your 
 last opportunity ? Behold your Savior, knocking at the door ! He 
 beseeches admittance ! Come ! come ! " and with both hands 
 extended, he descended to the area within the anxious seats, sing- 
 ing as he went, this hymn ; entitled, " Hell, or the vengeance of 
 God." 
 
 " With holy fear, and humble tongue 
 The dreadful God our souls adore ; 
 Reverence and awe become the tongue 
 That speaks the terror of his power. 
 
 Far in the deep where darkness dwells. 
 
 The land of horror and despair, 
 Justice has built a dismal Hell, 
 
 And piled her stores of torment there. 
 
 Eternal plagues, and heavy chains ! 
 
 Tormenting racks, and fiery coals — 
 And darts to inflict immortal pains, 
 
 Dyed in the blood of damned souls. 
 
 There Satan, the first sinner, lies — 
 
 And roars, and bites his iron bands ! 
 In vain the rebel strives to rise — 
 
 Crushed with the weight of both God's hands! 
 
 There, guilty ghosts of Adam's race 
 
 Shriek out ! and howl beneath Thy rod : 
 
 Once they could scorn a Savior's grace — 
 But they incensed a dreadful God ! 
 
132 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Tremble ray soul, and kiss the Son, 
 
 Sinners obey the Savior's call ! 
 Else your damnation hastens on ! 
 
 And Hell gapes wide, to wait your fall." 
 
 An appalling sense of the wrath to come, distorted the lineaments 
 of all those who had hitherto remained unmoved. The seats filled 
 quickly. No essential mention was made of their sins. It was 
 an understood thing — this total depravity. They were to be saved 
 then and there, by the acceptance of Christ. Sin was believed to 
 be incorporated into their bein^. Sin flowed with vitality through 
 every vein. Hereditary sin permeated every pore, and electrified 
 every ficre 1 — Sin in mankind, like the intestine fires of earth, was 
 believed to be the dangerous core of a specious surface. Its 
 proper manifestations were seen in overt acts, — it was known to 
 exist by Vesuvius, or ^Vr^w^^^// deeds — of murders, robberies, as- 
 sassinations, piracies. 
 
 The town of Cioudspire considered itself happily free from these 
 volcanic phenomena. Nevertheless, the elfish depravity of Adam 
 was believed to have been implanted in every nature. 
 
 Still, other moral phenomena of a less turbulent character, daily 
 occured — phenomena which neither gave offence, nor excited con- 
 troversy, — which no more rufiled the religious complacency of the 
 church, than summer breezes, or sifting snows. 
 
 There was the hard grasping hand of greed — which wrung the 
 wages of the poor to a mere pittance. There were those, who, 
 when besought by famishing souls for the bread of love, and com- 
 passion, gave "a stone.". There was noble, earnest womanhood, 
 crushed to the abject endurance and silence of "menials." There 
 were those denominated in the New Testament as " thieves," who 
 robbed girlhood of its innocence, and fair fame— then left their vic- 
 tims by the wayside, to die of shame, and despair ;— and then there 
 were those, in the church and out of it, who " passed by on ihe other 
 side." There were those who made color the fierce pass-word to 
 gaunt misery, degradation, and crime — and then thanked God 
 they were not as black men were. There were tongues, forked 
 tongues of scandal; whose scathing fire equaled the "lapping 
 flames " described by Edmund Stone, -tongues which roused fra- 
 ternal hatred into endless bickerings, and blackened everything 
 ' green and beautiful," in life. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 1 33 
 
 These things, and more, daily passed unheeded. They were 
 regarded as tlie natural elements of society, and outside the radii 
 of their gospel, and creed. 
 
 Cloudspire gospel was a Mosaic fossil — as sacredly preserved as 
 the bones of a canonized saint Cloudspire creed was a venerable 
 "antique." It was well rooted in the garden of Eden,— it grew 
 apace in the Ark of the Deluge. It still bore the sacrificial blood 
 stains of the slain bulls and rams of Solomon's lime, — and the 
 withered threads of Jonah's gOurd clung in fantastic tracery about 
 it. It was a grim old century plant ; which blossomed only at cen- 
 tennial, or millennial periods. The pale green mold of ages laid 
 upon its thick fibrous leaves. It blossomed last at the crucifixion 
 of the Savior; and its vitality seemed shocked, rather than quick- 
 ened, by that great event. Its growth ceased at the tomb of a dead 
 Christ, Years were yet to melt into the past, before there should 
 spring from its sluggish heart the inflorescenceof humanity, charity, 
 peace, and reconciliation, which should have been the first fruits 
 of His death. The witchcraft of creed mummeries, had weirdly 
 dabbled with His blood, obliterated the Golden Rule, and dazed 
 the eye of conscience. 
 
 While the Rev. Stone, assisted by the congregation, was singing 
 the aforesaid hymn, nothing remained to be done by those under 
 condemnation, but to accept the waiting God, and Chiist ; or to turn 
 their backs, and pertinaciously refuse them — both of which high 
 privileges were granted to these depraved creatures, by the received 
 traditions of "the Fathers." 
 
 The harvest of souls that day was unprecedented ! The hunch- 
 back was regarded with a shade of envy by the younger portion of 
 the ministry ; but was declared by his elders, a sanctified instru- 
 ment of grace. 
 
 Night shades, and a heavy snow-storm w^ere falling without. 
 After the usual notices w^ere read by the pastor, the Town Clerk 
 rose fiom the singers' seat in the gallery, and from a slip of paper 
 cried, — 
 
 '• WilliajH Steele of South Ca?'oimaj and Lucy Clarendo7i of Cloud- 
 spire^ Massachusetts^ i?itend f?iarf'iage. 
 
 Consternation ensued. The hand of the Lord was surprisingly 
 stayed, by the piping voice of the diminutive official. Flashing 
 
134 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 indignation lurked in many a maiden's eye. Mothers bit their h"ps 
 from chagrin, — and the astounded visages of hopeful fathers, fell 
 with disappointment to the floor. 
 
 The matrimonial prize in the protracted meeting had been 
 drawn, and the brown old meeting house was left to itself. 
 
 The blustering snow-storm careering on the north wind, kept all 
 at home for the evening. It roared in the cavernous chimneys, 
 and howled at the window panes. Tumblers of " sling", and '• hot 
 punch " passed freely around the blazing fires. Tongues were flip- 
 pant. The " Hill of Zion " was made to "yield " a thousand sacred 
 sweets. " 
 
 The clergy, and those of the laity without marriageable daugh- 
 ters, were unanimous in the braise of the Southern visitor, and of 
 his efforts in the revival. He was evidently a " man of God." 
 His talents and influence were greatly to be esteemed in any com- 
 munity. His departure from New England was decided to be a 
 loss ; but it was conceded to be a great gain to the South, where 
 he had taken up his abode. 
 
 Fanny stepped out of the church into the whitened air, wearing 
 a joyous face. Her spiritual yearnings were in a measure stilled. 
 Within its walls, she had endeavored to yield implicit faith to the 
 mysteries of a creed which held within it an angry, and implacable 
 God, and a vicarious crucified Christ. She considered it a high 
 privilege to meet with Their chosen people, to whose keeping, 
 doubtless, was committed the redemption of souls. 
 
 The double green doors were closed, and locked upon the sol- 
 emn arcana of creed, and the speculative faith of believers. The 
 " Steele " Bible, the price of innocence, and the holiest affection, 
 was folded in its linen vestment. The costly silver Font with the 
 three brooding angels, rested in its velvet lined box, in a secure 
 niche beneath the pulpit, guiltily guarding its dark secret. 
 
 Fanny carried nothing with her from the great Throne-room of 
 the universal King, but her personal depravity. It was outside the 
 church that the perfections of the great Creator had been revealed 
 to her consciousness, and affections. 
 
 The deacon's box sleigh, with a tumble of " buffaloes " and 
 blankets awaited them at the steps — Henry in his warm overcoat 
 and mittens, sat on the front seat, soothing the fretfulness of Czar 
 and Sultan. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. I35 
 
 *' Deacon Steele ! " said Fanny, " may I ask the favor to ride on the 
 front seat with the driver, that I may see your beautiful horses ? " 
 
 This flattering request put the deacon in an indulgent humor. 
 
 "Yes! yes! climb over there, you little horse jockey! but you'll 
 freeze, wont you .'' " 
 
 " Thank you, deacon, no ! I like the snow! " 
 
 "Yes! yes ! you like every thing under the blue heavens, I be- 
 lieve. There ! let me tuck you in. Look out for her, Hen. Some 
 of these ' thank-ye-marms ' '11 toss her out ! " 
 
 Prudence White's pale, sanctimonious face looked up to her and 
 said, " Come down here ! child. That seat's the place for men ! 
 Now's the time to think of something else, besides horses ! " 
 
 "Tut! tut! Miss White," curtly replied the deacon; 't won't 
 hurt the girl ! She knows there ain't such a span in town as mine. 
 She knows it as well as I do." • 
 
 The high spirited creatures dashed away, round the old church, 
 down the hill, through the swamp, among the dark green hemlocks 
 cloaked with ermine, between fence ra'ls trimmed as prettily as 
 Fanny's hood, wdth down. 
 
 " He giveth his snowlike wool ; thought she. " His glory is 
 above the earth, and heavens." 
 
 She felt herself very near to Him who made the earth so tran- 
 scendently beautiful. Every moment of this ride was spent in 
 garnering up into her soul, the beauty about her. Henry ventured 
 to bresk the silence in a manner which he knew would not be 
 offensive to the deacon, and at the same time would interest his 
 companion, 
 
 " Did you hear that. Miss Fanny?" 
 
 '•The bells, Henry.?" 
 
 "Yes, Sultan is proud of his bells, but the thick air muffles 
 them. He gave that sprihg to shake the music out of 'em. 
 W^atch Czar, Miss Fanny, and he will do the same thing." 
 
 " There he goes now ! " she replied, with a burst of laughter. 
 " What a shower of music he shakes out of his bells." Snow-flakes 
 were dancing in and out of their fluffy, flurrying manes, and cling- 
 ing to their flying foretops. 
 
 Henry directed her attention to this, adding, — 
 
 " There's a fresh drift across the road just ahead ; keep your eye 
 on them, now." 
 
136 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 He drew a taut rein, and braced his feet anew. With a rear 
 and a snort, they plunged in, shoulder deep. The light snow flew 
 like a cloud, powdering their silken coats from head to heels. Ar- 
 rows of frozen breath darted from panting nostrils, as they went 
 leaping and bounding on. 
 
 'ihe deacon disentangled himself from the buffaloes, and stood 
 looking over Fanny's head. 
 
 " How's this for sleighing ? How's the horses now ? " 
 
 " Handsomer than ever, sir, and this kind of sleighing is delight- 
 ful." 
 
 " But I mistrust that one half of your errand up here to this seat 
 was to sit with Hal." 
 
 I am very glad if my sitting here is any comfort to Henr)^ for 
 his life is lonely enough. A few pleasant words cost no trouble." 
 
 " I thought you might persuade Hal to go forwards for prayers. 
 In this wonderful outpouring of God's spirit, we all hoped he 
 would not forget his never dying soul." 
 
 " I did ask him to go, but he said he must be excused. He can 
 pray anywhere, you know, Deacon Steele." 
 
 " That is true, Fanny, but when we refuse God's appointed 
 means of grace, we are not apt to get his blessing elsewhere, in 
 our own willful way. There was a nice place left for his color at 
 the altar ; he could have knelt all alone by himself. And God is no 
 respecter of persons in His plan of salvation." 
 
 "Yes, I saw that empty seat," said Fanny in a sorrowful tone — 
 "And I offered to go and kneel with him, in it, but he said, ' No, 
 Miss Fanny : you don't know all I know.' So I didn't urge him 
 any more, God is merciful, you know, sir." 
 
 "True! He's merciful, or he wouldn't receive such totally de- 
 praved beings as we are into His favor. But Hal should know He 
 is a jealous, and avenging God also." 
 
 The horses were wallowing, springing, and panting in successive 
 drifts. 
 
 " Let them go, Hal," said the deacon. " They like to frolic in 
 the snow. *t won't hurt 'em." 
 
 The candles were already winking in Mrs. Steele's kitchen ; in- 
 viting the cold wa)farers to enter. There was the usual stamping 
 of feet, shaking of cloaks, hats and shawls, before entering the 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 137 
 
 room for supper. This was the kitchen — comfortable and tidy as 
 ever. The old stove roared a welcome. The oval braided cloth 
 mats around it invited cold feet. The tea kettle instituted a chat- 
 tering cantata, entirely irrelevant to " revival weeek." 
 
 The change from the desolate interior ot the meeting-house to 
 the papered walls of this room, was more than agreeable. . The 
 scarlet nasturtions, and blue bachelor's buttons woven into its bor- 
 ders, suggested thoughts of summer and gardens. The '' dark 
 abyss of damned souls," slid out of mind. The " New Jerusalem " 
 on high, lost attraction before a bountiful spread table, 
 
 "This night is a stinger, mother," said the deacon to his wife, 
 who was lifting the warm viands to the table ; — but its worth whiie 
 to be out in blustering weather, to hear such preaching as we heard 
 to-day. Edmund Stone can't be out-done in the terrors of the 
 second death." 
 
 " Was there many hardened sinners melted to-day ? " she asked 
 in her sotto sostenuto voice, which was most religiously reserved for 
 this kind of topics. 
 
 " Yes, wife. Our w^ork's about done ! It's been a profitable 
 and savin' time." 
 
 " Was your brother William's intended at the meeting.^ — I mean 
 Lucy. It wouldn't be well for him to be unequally yoked together 
 with an unbeliever ! " 
 
 The tone grew more nasal and puerile, still." 
 
 "Yes," chimed in Prudence White in a pitiful whine. "Yes! 
 Religion should be the first consideration ui a wife for William. 
 His prayers should be strengthened by hers." 
 
 " I believe Lucy ' has a hope ' already — I am told so," said the 
 deacon. "William questioned her on it." 
 
 " She ought to be under the guardianship of the church." 
 
 " So I thuik. Prudence. There's no safer place in the world than 
 the church ! " quoth Mrs. Steele, as she passed the tea to her guest. 
 There ! Prudence. I've made your tea as strong as lye; for I tho't 
 you'd be kinder nerved up to-night." 
 
 '• Yes, Miss Steele — the spirit is willin', but the flesh is weak. I 
 take my tea strong." 
 
 It was time for the deacon to support the reputation of his 
 brother ; for it was not falling into honeyed mouths. He therefore 
 came to the rescue. 
 
138 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "Well, we're all one family, as it were ; and I'll tell you what I 
 know. William will not enter into the holy bonds of matrimony 
 with Lucy, till she's been baptized, and taken into the bosom of 
 the church. He says them Southerners are the most religious peo- 
 ple he has ever found, — and a person that isn't a church-member 
 can't be reckoned among 'em. Take another cut of this roaster of 
 pork. Miss White. The laborer is worthy of his hire. You've 
 worked hard in the Lord's vineyard to-day." 
 
 "Without praisin' myself, deacon, I'm never happier than when 
 I'm in the Lord's service. Ill take another potatce, and a few 
 spoonfulls of gravy, and a couple of onions — I'm very fond of 
 
 onions." 
 
 " I doubt if that old miser Conchlan would have taken one step 
 from the wrath to come, without your persuasion. Prudence ; you 
 fairly dragged him up to be prayed for." 
 
 " Father, was it that rich old bachelor, you mean ? " enquired 
 Mary. 
 
 The canting twang was forgotten, in Prudence's haste to reply. 
 There was an unusual sprightliness in the words, — 
 
 " Yes, dear, the same man. His case seemed to weigh upon me 
 from the beginning of the revival. I'll take another cup o'tea, 
 Miss Steele. These China cups o'yourn air rather small. Fanny, 
 will you pass me the bread ? I'm very fond o'light wheat bread ; 
 Mary, give me a little more quince sauce ; I'm very fond o' quince." 
 
 Two kinds of cake graced the table. Both were passed to Pru- 
 dence, who took a piece of each, and said, — 
 
 " You make such nice riz cake, i\Iiss Steele ; and I am very fond 
 of cup cake too." 
 
 Two kinds of pie were next offered. Prudence regaled her 
 weariness by accepting both mince and cream ;for mince and cream 
 were the pies she was very fond of. 
 
 Hal and Foxey came in from the barn together. They were the 
 best of friends. Hal took his supper from the small side table. A 
 bit of the pork, several potatoes, a cube of rye bread, and a piece 
 of mince pie, with rye crust. 
 
 Fanny added to the plain meal by transferring to his plate her 
 piece of cake, which she had left uneaten. Mary and her mother 
 " did up the dishes;" then all repaired to the warm little parlor. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 1 39 
 
 The Others took their knitting, while Fanny drew from her 
 pocket, Aunt Letty's caps, now nearly finished. 
 
 "What now Fanny?" asked the deacon. "Ruffles! ruffles! I 
 think you're pretiy enough without ruffles ! " 
 
 " These ruffles are not for myself, sir." 
 
 "Who then?" 
 
 " They are caps for black Letty, down by the brook." 
 
 " By George ! you're hunting up all the black folki ! Hey ? " 
 
 No glow of shame reddened her cheeks at this thrust ; rather, 
 the enthusiasm in her eyes intensified. " Do you know Deacon 
 Steele, that I want to be a foreign missionary among people of 
 their color? My mother opposes this desire. vShe tells me that 
 charity begins at home. She says there is missionary work all 
 about here, for every good Christian to do." 
 
 She held up her work. 
 
 '• Here are my small beginnings." 
 
 A sacred frown "from on high," lighted on Prudence White's 
 brow. She inquired if Fanny's missionary zeal led her to seek out 
 the needy among the white poor, as well ? 
 
 "There are none about us, so poor as the colored people, — and 
 I must acknowledge. Miss White, my sympathies are strongest for 
 the most destitute." 
 
 " My child ! there is a Bible reason for this poverty. These chil- 
 dren of Ham are under the direct curse of God^ and they will be, for 
 centuries to come. Fanny, they are ' hewers of wood, and drawers 
 of water' — servants to us white people. That kind of labor always 
 gets small wages. I never see a black face, but that text comes 
 right up before me, ' Cursed be Canaan ! * " 
 
 " Then it seems to me, we should be doubly watchful, that we 
 may supply their necessities ! " argued Fanny. 
 
 " You see, my dear, you are too young to examine these things, 
 as I have. It has been the study of my life. What is to be, inust 
 be ! They are to be poor, and despised. We are not to meddle 
 with God's decrees, or his curses. It's dangerous work ! This 
 passage, ' Touch not the accursed thing', points out our christian 
 duty towards them, as plain as a light set on a hill. It's the height 
 of audacity to do it, and I've heard this question argued by the 
 greatest divines." 
 
 For some time past, Mrs. Steele had vainly endeavored to bring 
 
!40 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 the middle of her seam needle in conjunction with the closing 
 words of somebody's opinion ; which event happened at this fort- 
 unate moment. Dropping the stocking on her knee, she assumed 
 an air of as much sternness as she could command. 
 
 She resolved to add to the arguments against Ham and all his 
 progeny. She would let her light shine, in rebuking this young 
 girl's unworthy, and untaught zeal. 
 
 This dogmatical purpose, however, was but a comic mockery, — 
 for, all fixed purposes, and stamina of character had been crushed 
 out of her, long ago. In every dilemma of reason or judgment, the 
 jaded woman had relied upon the authorities. "J/)' husband,'' and 
 "'■ our miiustcr'\ were the two lawful w^eights she threw into the un- 
 certain scales of her enfeebled intellect. By these, she weighed 
 the subtle essence of metaphysics, Mosaic law, and the Christian 
 dispensation. If, in hours of her w^eariness, and nothingness, her 
 soul dared to assert its natural right to growth, and its hatred to 
 serfdom, '^ My husband''' was thrown into the troublesome balance. 
 Weariness, and nothingness kicked the beam. 
 
 If in contemplation of the gibbet, the scaffold, or the hangman's 
 rope, any weak womanly chills of horror disturbed her peace, and 
 joy in believing, she tied "-our minister ^\ to the victim's heels ; and 
 plumb through the drop, went both, together. After thus balan- 
 ancing affairs, she pursued the even tenor of the christian way. 
 Since the arrival of their Southern guest, she felt that her sphere 
 of reference was safely enlarged. There were now, '^ Mr. Steele's 
 brother'', My husband ", and " Our minister''. 
 
 To return ; the seam needle still held the others in abeyance. 
 The deacon's wife raised her hand; the fore-finger was apparently 
 directed to the eluding point to be made. Like the shadow of a 
 vision, this point was melting away. 
 
 What a hand to confute the equality of Ham's race! — What a 
 hand to fix the stigma of bondage upon color ! No artist would 
 have chosen it as a model of God's fair handiwork. That hand in 
 marble would have shocked the sensibilities, and disgusted the 
 tastes of woman's worshippers. Its natural proportions were de- 
 stroyed — the palm broadened by hard usage — the once taper- 
 fingers blunted and flattened at the tips — the nails once pinken as 
 rose petals, now narrow, and awry — the edges broken into the 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. I4t 
 
 quick — the joints swollen and deformed. In texture, it was rough 
 and horny — in color, begrinimed and steamed to redness. 
 
 The bent fore-finger made crooked aim at the point in question. 
 She opened her lips and said ; 
 
 " Yes ! Miss White ; you are right ; for Mr. Steele's brother 
 says he never was so solemnly impressed with the truth of the 
 prophecies of the Lord, as he has been in South Carolina. lie 
 says the words of the Lord which he spoke throu,i:;h the lips of His 
 servant Noah, ' Cursed be Canaan ! a servant of servants shall he 
 be unto his brethren ; ' and this other text of Scripture, 'Blessed 
 be the Lord God of Shem ! and Canaan shall be his servant', are 
 wonderful ! Mr. Steele's brother says it's enough to make an infidel 
 a Christian, to see how that curse is fulfilled down there, so many 
 years after, in this Christian country ! " 
 
 Oh, yes, Miss Steele ; we are a favored people, to live in an age 
 when we see with our own eyes, the fulfillment of prophecy ; to see 
 with our own eyes that our land is the chcsen land, where God ful- 
 fills His written word. I hoped to have had more conversation 
 with your husband's brother ; but his selection of a helpmeet has 
 taken him from us. What other information respecting this 
 doomed race of Ham, has he given you .'' I have a great desire to 
 know how they bear this yoke of slavery." 
 
 • "Well, Prudence, he says the white people and these black 
 slaves down there, are as separate from each other, as the skies is 
 above the earth. He says there 'pears to be a natural disgust for 
 them, writ on the hearts of the white gentlemen and their families. 
 They don't know nothin' but to plant rice and cotton, and a little 
 corn. They can't read a word, nor write their names," 
 
 " Miss Steele, how many of these children of Ham does one 
 Southern gentleman generally own ? " 
 
 " My husband's gone out ; he knows it all. But I believe he 
 said one gentleman had five hundred sometimes — all living in 
 rows of cabins away from the master's house." 
 
 "Mother," said Mary, " every gentleman don't have so many — 
 some have one hundred — and some have fifty, and less.' 
 
 " Law sakes ! " cried Prudence, — 
 
 " Now you don't say ! a hundred and up'ards to work for you all 
 the year round, for nothing ! No wonder them Southerners are so 
 
142 WHITE MAY AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 rich ! and Miss Steele, I've heard say that these Southern ladies 
 don't lift their fingers to any kind of work ; that their hands are 
 lily white. So these Canaanites must work in the houses, too. 
 Do they take to cookin' ? " 
 
 " Tell her about uncle William's cook, mother ; suggested 
 
 Marv. 
 
 "Yes, child ! Mr. Steele's brother had a nigger woman to do his 
 cookin', and he lived as well as he could wish to. Let's see ! what 
 was her name, Mary ? " 
 
 " Isabel." 
 
 " Yes, Ishul. She knew enough to make his bed ; and he made 
 her dust and sweep his room, as well as he could expect, down 
 there." 
 
 But, Miss Steele, I don't see how William could bear to have the 
 great black thing round in his room, handlin' things. It would put 
 me out, dreadfully." 
 
 "Oh! she only came in after he' d gofie out. He didn't see her. 
 She cooked in a little cabin away from the house, and slept there 
 o'nights, as they always do. Why, Prudence White! he's got a 
 little nigger to wait on him. You see he brings in all the victuals 
 to William. So he don't see that black wench, as he says they 
 call 'em down there, at all. And this little nigger brings his horse 
 to the door, all saddled, and stands there with his hat off, till Wil- 
 liam comes out. Then he always makes a low bow, and scrapes 
 his foot back, out of respect to him. Why, Miss White ! my hus- 
 bands brother don't so much as draw a pail of water, or pull his 
 own boots off." 
 
 Prudence dropped her knitting into her lap in astonishment, pon- 
 dering upon the differ ence between her own hard working life, and 
 that of the Southerners. 
 
 " I declare ! " she said, " it must be an edifying life to live, espec- 
 ially when we know that to be waited upon without liftin' your 
 hand to a stroke o' work, is fulfil lin' the Scripter, and was fore-or- 
 davied by God. A person would have so much time for meditation 
 and prayer." 
 
 Mary agreed enthusiastically. 
 
 " That must be so ! for father says Uncle William has grown in 
 grace since he went South. I've heard a great many say that 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 1 43 
 
 Uncle William is more active in the advancementof Christ's king- 
 dom now, than when he was in the Theological Seminary." 
 
 The deacon brought in the customary evening treat, — hickory 
 nuts cracked, a tray of spicy reds, and a pitcher of cider. He said 
 to Fanny, — 
 
 " Look up here ! Hal has been to work, pickin' out a saucer of 
 wa'nut meats for you. I don'tknow what that Hal wouldn't do for 
 Fanny." 
 
 Prudence rolled up her knitting, and put the needles in the tin 
 sheath. 
 
 "I've been expectin' these refreshments ; " she purred. "I'm 
 very fond of apples, and nuts, and cider. We've been havin' some 
 edifying conversation while you were gone." 
 
 " Well, its a fact ! You women can talk more religion, in half an 
 hour, than we men can in a week. Religion's more nat'ral to 
 women folks. St. Paul forbids 'em to speak and teach in public 
 — but there's a broad field for women to practise religion at ho7ne, 
 and in their closets. If we hadn't had so many prayin', women in 
 our town, I don't think we should ever send out so many young 
 ministers to p'int a fallen world to salvation." 
 
 "My husband's right," chimed in his wife. "I've been to them 
 female prayer meetin's regular, for ten years ; and most of our 
 church women have done the same. No rain, nor snow, nor sun, 
 nor mowin' time, nor harvest ever kept us from meetin' at the 
 throne of grace." 
 
 " And you had your reward wife. — Take another apple. Prudence ; 
 and another tumbler of cider." 
 
 " I'll try a greenin' this time." Then she addressed Mrs. Steele. 
 
 " Your reward has been in a blessin' on your prayers. If I re- 
 member, ten years ago you told me that you had took up William, 
 and was strong in prayer for him. We've seen him with our own 
 eyes ; and witnessed how manfully he stands up for God, and His 
 divine ordinances." 
 
 ''That's true ; as my husband says, we had our reward in seein' 
 so many of our young men rise up to put down the ' man of sin,' 
 and to gird on the armor of Christ — to fight valiantly against the 
 powers of darkness. There was the widow Brown's two boys. 
 We made them a subject of prayer, for a whole year; — but we 
 
144 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 prevailed at last. My husband knows how bright they came out on 
 the side of the Lord. They studied for the ministry, and went 
 missionaries to the Greenwich Islands. But them heathen was 
 cannibals. They took them two young laborers in the Master's 
 vineyard, and roasted 'em, and devoured 'em. But we all felt that 
 our loss was their gain ; and that we could still say, blessed be the 
 name of the Lord. ' 
 
 "Then there was that tall Hopkins, you know, wife ; he was a 
 subject of prayer in your circle, and he's gone a missionary among 
 the Jews." 
 
 '* The Jews ! The Jews ! " groaned Patience. 
 
 "I never speak that name without a cold shudder runnin' over 
 me. Those crucifiers of Christ ! — and still acrucifyin' him to this 
 day. The Jews are worse than the heathen. The heathen never 
 saw Christ, but the Jews have seen Him, and his works ; and yet 
 refuse to believe in their Savior. They need missionaries ! " 
 
 " Well, Miss White, the Jews have been well punished for their 
 hardness of heart. They've been scattered over ihe earth like 
 chaff, before the whirlwind of God's wrath." 
 
 " Yes, deacon ! They're under a curse, like the Canaanites, not 
 only here, but hereafter, for they will till the pit of despair for- 
 ever ! " 
 
 It was time now for Fanny's flesh to creep. She had never seen 
 the points of Cloudspire's creed thrown into such glittering salience. 
 Yet, if she had set herself to be a Christian believer, she must face 
 His resentments. His towering wrath. His revenges on His ene- 
 mies, His curses on the beautiful green earth, and His fiendish 
 tortures prepared for a never-ending future, beyond the grave. 
 She asked Prudence, — 
 
 " Do you think the Jews are all cast off from the presence of 
 God, forever ? " 
 
 "Yes, child ; every one of them sink to the bottomless pit, pre- 
 pared for the Devil and His angels, with the terrible sin of unbe- 
 lief huns like a wei2;ht about their necks ! " 
 
 " Mother, have you forgot Tim Ford ? " asked Mary. 
 
 " No child : I was just comin' to him. Timothy was pale and 
 sickly ; he couldn't earn a livin' on the farm. We carried him 
 before the Throne of Grace, with the especial purpose that he 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 1 45 
 
 should fight the beast with seven heads and ten horns. Our minis- 
 ter says ihis means the Catholic's — and sure enough, he's now 
 preacihn' to the Roman Catholics about worshipin' their idols 
 made with hands, and about their wearin' so manv beads, and 
 crosses." 
 
 Here the face of Prudence grew fairly shriveled with abhorrence. 
 Her thin lips trembled, — for the Roman Catholics were the bane 
 of her life. She broke in, — 
 
 " Miss Steele, I'm glad to know you've sent out a spiritual David 
 with a slins: in his hand for the forehead ofthat Anti-Christ. I feel 
 a righteous indignation at the very name ! I hope he won't forget 
 to rebuke them for lightin' up so many wax candles, and for fillin' 
 their churches with that smoke they call incense. It must be a 
 terrible stench in the nostrils of the Almighty." 
 
 '• Tim Fort won't forget none of 'em," replied Mrs. Steele, con- 
 fidently : " he abominates Catholics." 
 
 " Eanny, do you like Catholics too ? " asked Mary. 
 
 '■ I know nothing about them, but by accident. I was lost once 
 when a child, in the streets of New York. No one would listen to 
 my grief, but two Sisters of Mercy. They kindly led me back to 
 mv friends. I confess I have ever since, thought it was a Christian 
 
 act." 
 
 " Did you ever go to one of their churches, and see their 
 
 idols ? " 
 
 '• Yes. I persisted in being taken there, after the sisters brought 
 me home. Everything was so beautiful to my sight. The stained 
 glass windows; the colored lights; the wonderful music, the lii-:e 
 of which I never heard before ; the dim seclusion ; the splendid 
 robes of the priests; the mysterious forms of worship at the altar; 
 the solemn chants ; all these drew me from earth and its sinfulness 
 into another and holier sphere — like that which Edmund Stone 
 described in his sermon, yesterday. It is a pleasant memory, and 
 yet I may be wrong in all my thoughts about it." 
 
 " You air wrong ! wickedly aud sinfully wrong ! " hastily ex- 
 claimed Miss White. "Your own feet ara standing on slippery 
 places, and — 
 
 " No. no, Miss White. We must not be hard on Fanny. Her 
 opinions are not formed yet. She is looking for light. You know 
 
146 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 there are no means of grace down to Alderbank. I've known her 
 to walk three miles many a summer Sunday morning, over to our 
 church ; and to pay more 'tention to the sermon, than half the men 
 in the congrefiation, — and then walk the three miles back. The 
 Lord is leading her young mind right." 
 
 Mrs. Steele, who had been drawn under the surface in this sud- 
 den whirlpool of debate, now came up in the outer circle, to breathe 
 again. The rough, knotty, smirchy finger rose to view. She re- 
 minded all present that there is but one door to enter the kingdom. 
 (In her perspective, that one was the faded green door of Cloud- 
 spire church . She reiterated, — 
 
 ''There is but one door; and 'he that climbeth up some other 
 way, the same is a thief and a robber ; ' and Timothy Fort will tell 
 them so." 
 
 " He'll do that, mother. He's a bold soldier of the Cross," an- 
 swered her husband. 
 
 Before prayers, Fanny entered the kitchen to thank Hal for his 
 remembrance and to speak a comforting word for his loneliness. 
 His dark face kindled; for there was no mistaking her friendship. 
 His heart warmed towards her religious faith, which included him, 
 Susan, and his children. When she said, " God is good, Henry ; 
 I want you to believe it," he did believe he?- God to be good. 
 When she laid her hand on his arm, and said in a low tone, " Wear 
 the clothes that Richard gave you, — protect yourself from the cold ;" 
 he felt there was warmth and comfort forhim yet. 
 
 Her return from the kitchen was rudely greeted by the upbraid- 
 ing voice of Prudence. 
 
 "Why, my child, I've been thinkin' more and more of your errors. 
 Here you are, takin' up for the Jews and Catholics, just as you did 
 for the sons of Ham. You are up in arms with the Lord, my child. 
 Where He condemns and curses, you pity and excuse. You 
 should go to your brother Richard for advice. He is learning 
 sound doctrine. Let him guide you." 
 
 The deacon entered, saying, — 
 
 " I think the sun'll come up clear to-morrow morning. I hope 
 Fanny ; for we are all anxious to hear Richard. He's a lamb of 
 our flock." 
 
 " Oh ! yes," solemnly sighed the hostess, looking towards Pru- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 1 47 
 
 dence. " If Richard follows in the footsteps of my husbrnd's 
 brother, we shall feel repaid for our our prayers." 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THe sun hung above the plumy western woods on the ".Main." 
 " Nightingale Hall," on the north-west corner of the island, 
 stood lifted airily from the ground, on its tall brick pillars, — so 
 high that its mistress used to ride under the first lioor, sitting in 
 her saddle, without grazing the white plume of her hat. A long 
 flight of broad stairs, hedged by fragrant myrtle and orange shrub- 
 bery, opened upon the piazza. This piazza, bioad and saloon-like, 
 surrounding three sides of the Hall, was shadsd and embowered 
 by glossy green magnolias, and the broad fanning leaves of the 
 sycamore. Orange trees held their golden fruit along the high 
 balustrade, so that the lounger had only to reach the hand over, or 
 through the railing for their delicious globes. Tall oleanders 
 scattered pinken and snowy blossoms, side by side with the orange, 
 along the balustrade, within easy reach of their admirers. 
 
 The view from the western piazza was one of characteristic 
 Southern beauty. Beyond the gardens and enclosures of the Hall, 
 the eye rested first on the low cabins of the negro quarters, stretch- 
 ing each side of a narrow street, and half hidden by low clumps of 
 the fig ; then a strip of soft grassy marsh, beyond which, still black 
 and shining from the receding tide, sloped away a broad muddy beach 
 to the river. 
 
 Sweeping around this beach, the swift current of the river, or rather 
 arm of the sea, hastened back to the ocean whence it came, cutting its 
 swift channel farther on through untold acres of golden grass 
 grass marshes, as soft to the eye as satin flowers. 
 
 Beyond the river, low level lands roiled out into rice and cotton 
 fields, dotted here and there by verandahed plantation dwellings. 
 These faded into distant pine-lands, dreamy with the delicious 
 purple haze, which only a Southern clime throws so charmingly 
 over all its scenes. 
 
 In the north-west chamber of this mansion overlooking the view 
 
148 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 just described, the windo^vs were darkened by green blinds, neaHy 
 closed. On a bed drawn into the middle of the floor, lay the pale 
 form of a dying woman. The lace pavilion was looped high 
 around the carved mahogany posts, to admit the rising evening 
 breeze beneath its canopy. On one side of the bed, a tall black 
 slave gently fanned the sufferer ; and on the other reclined a fair 
 young girl. Her face rested in her hands on the same pillow with 
 her mother ; and she was shedding such tears as only one about to 
 become an orphan, can know. 
 
 " Raise me up, my precious daughter ! " faintly demanded the 
 mother. 
 
 " Let me look out upon nature once more, before I go." 
 
 Elsie slid her strong arm under the pillows, and raised her so 
 that her eyes commanded the view from the window, then drew 
 herself upon the bed, and held the invalid tenderly in her arms. 
 Hattie, brushing the tear drops from her sight, threw open the 
 blinds. The window was protected from the slant rays of the sun 
 by the deep sheltering roof of the piazza. She leaned abstract- 
 edly against the casement looking dreamily therefrom. 
 
 "Come, Hattie, daughter. I have something more to say to 
 you ; " and as she approached the bed, her thin fingers clasped the 
 small helpless hand extended to her. 
 
 Hattie's grief poured forth afresh, — and as if awaiting a calmer 
 moment, the dying mothers's gaze went out through the open win- 
 dow, over the river, the marsh and the purple woodlands. The 
 blue eyes gathered brightness for a moment, till mournful thoughts 
 exhaled in a mist before them and fell upon the pillow in tears. 
 
 "Hattie" she said, "I have always loved this island and this 
 home, since I first saw them. I have had same sorrows in which 
 you could not participate. But this dreamy tropical phase of nature 
 has a balm in it, which has never failed to calm my soul. I have 
 ever borrowed a sweet and heavenly tranquility from the unbroken 
 level of these shores and the deep repose of these forests. I leave 
 them to-day. If all be true that the wise have asserted, I shall 
 soon walk by other waters, — by the River of Life. I shall soon 
 look upon other blossoms, and gather the fruitage from the Tree 
 of everlasting Life. Do not grieve, my darling, — death is the in- 
 evitable lot of us all. A few years, more or less on the earth, are 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JU2^E. 1 49 
 
 but a small spark of eternity. ^ly only regret is for you, my 
 orphaned child ! but I can do no more than lo bid you, when left 
 alone, to trust in Him who is above man." 
 
 Throwing her arms about her mothei's neck, Hattie p.sked in 
 agonized shrieks, — 
 
 "Who will care for me now? Where shall I go? Oh ! my dear 
 mother, let me go down into the grave with you ! I cannot live ! 
 I did not think you would die ! " 
 
 She caught her mother's hand, crying, — 
 
 " Stay ! my precious mother ! Stay ! I fear to meet this dread- 
 ful world alone! Oh do not go ! " — and she rained imploring 
 kisses and tears upon her mother's marble forehead. 
 
 "Do my dear young missus touch the bell ! " spoke Elsie in a 
 low and rapid tone. " For the dear Jesus' sake, be quick ! " 
 
 Raising herself in haste from the bed, with a face ashy pale, she 
 asked despairingly, — 
 
 "Oh, Elsie! tell me, have I killed her? Is my mother dead? " 
 
 '■'• No, honey ! pull the bell quick ! " 
 
 She reached the rope, and fell with a heavy sound upon the 
 floor. The chambermaid entered. 
 
 "Minnie," said Elsie, pour some wine as quick as possible, and 
 put in a teaspoonful of that medicine in the bottle. Give it to me, 
 and then throw cool water in Hattie's face ! " 
 
 The blinds were drawn together j after a time, mother and 
 daughter revived. 
 
 "Go now," said Elsie to the chambermaid, — "send little Friday 
 to stand by the bell- rope, and tell Mauma Rose to come, when it 
 
 rmsfs." 
 
 o 
 
 Now Hattie," faintly whispered her mother, " calm yourself. 
 Listen for the last time. Colonel Ashland will kindly allow you to 
 stay here. I have his sacred promise. I have laid by one thousand 
 dollars of my earnings since I have been governess, South. It is se- 
 curely deposited in the bank in Charleston. Colonel Ashland has 
 the papers — he will acquaint you with the necessary details hereaf- 
 ter. It is all yours, my clothes and jewelry are yours also. If you 
 should ever go back to my native State, visit, if possible, the scene of 
 my marriage, and the grave of your father. Go to the little church 
 where he officiated. Lay upon the green mound that covers all I 
 
150 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 loved most in the world, a small chaplet of buttercups and daises, the 
 wild flower wreath that his dear hands placed upon my brow, on 
 that one happiest morning of my life — mv bridal day. Kneel by 
 his last resiing-place ; and looking over the waters of Cayuga 
 Lake, join us once more, by your sacred memories of my lonely 
 Southern grave." 
 
 The poor mother opened her arms. Hattie's head fell upon that 
 loving, fainting heart for the last time. The hush of death was 
 broken only by the moans of the young orphan, still enfolded in 
 that cold embrace. 
 
 Elsie motioned to Friday. Answering the bell, Mauma Rose 
 came softly in, and perceiving the true state of affairs, unlocked 
 the unresisting arms, and lifted Hattie from the bed. 
 
 Sustaining and holding her still, she endeavored to assuage the 
 terrible tempest of her grief, that shook her young life. 
 
 "Hush, honey! Don't cry darlin', de modder gone — gone to 
 blessed Jesus, de moder sing, sing glory now ; lib wid de Lord ; 
 hold de palm leaf, and wear de white robe. She neber cry no 
 mo'." 
 
 Drawing her towards the door, she went on, — 
 
 " Come wid Mauma Rose, poor Birdie ! IMauma Rose take 
 care." She took Hattie to the nursery, begged her to lie down 
 and sat by, fanning, and hushing her woe. 
 
 At sunset, when evening dropped suddenly down, the clatter of 
 hoofs up the avenue, followed by the yelping of hounds, and the 
 discharge of guns, warned the household of the approach of the 
 master from the day's hunt. 
 
 Colonel Ashland, gratified with the day's success, sat a while 
 upon the high piazza with his English guest; remarking upon the 
 two slain deer lying on the greensward below, and engaged in 
 mutual relations of English and American gala hunts, till supper. 
 
 A repast of venison, ducks, and fish from the river rendered him 
 tolerably complacent, so that ]Mauma Rose, the only one whose 
 presence the Colonel tolerated under all circumstances, was al- 
 lowed to enter. She courtesied, and remained standing at the 
 door. 
 
 '' Here comes my black shadow ! v.'ell, mauma, what now.'' " 
 
 " Muss tell de masser bad news ! " 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 151 
 
 Long she hesitated. He arose from respect to his friend, and 
 entered the hall. 
 
 " Speak now ! '* said he. 
 
 " De guberness be dead, sir." 
 
 "Another funeral! Good God! Who'll die next? I destest 
 funerals ! 
 
 " De Lord bring de fun'als, bressed masser." with another 
 courtesy. 
 
 " Well ! If the Lord brings the funerals, I wish he'd carry them 
 away, again. Damnation ! My sport is ruined for to-morrow ; " — 
 pausing. " No, I swear by the Roman gods it shall not be ruined ! 
 I'll hunt with the Bluffton Rangers, if a Death's head hang on 
 every tree ! jMauma Rose, send Monday to me. I will give him 
 orders for the grave. Send for the overseer's wife to stay through 
 the night. I shall be in the saddle at sunrise ; you will hear the 
 horns and the dogs, — after that, make arrangements, funeral at nine 
 o'clock. The parson and the overseer's wife will accompany Hat- 
 tie in the carriage. Tell the coachman.'' 
 
 Mauma Rose courtesied low, and said, — 
 
 " Will de bressed marser 'low me and Elsie to foller in de mule- 
 cart ? " 
 
 •' Yes. yes, you black impudence ! if you won't ask me another 
 question." 
 
 The governess, knowing that her disease was fatal, sent some 
 days previous to Charleston by one of the boats plying between 
 that city and the island, for a coffin for herself, and a mourning suit 
 for Hattie. This had been confided to Rose and Elsie. The next 
 morning, old Parson Still officiated in the spacious hall. Around 
 the open coffin gathered all the house servants, and a few field- 
 hands who had gained the consent of the overseer. A wreath of 
 white roses, still wet with morning dews, lay upon the coffin, — from 
 the hand of Elsie. White buds and green leaves- sprinkled the 
 pure muslin shroud, and touched the light flaxen ringlets of the 
 sleeper. Honora Hudson was as lovely in her w^hite flow'ers, and 
 the marble beauty of her last repose, as when she stood at the bri- 
 dal-altar, crowned with buttercups and daisies — redolent in the 
 flush of her young life and budding hopes. 
 
 True mourners stood about her. With calm faces and meekly 
 
152 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 folded hands, ihey listened to the words of Pastor Still ; feeling 
 deeply the loss that took from their chequered lives, the only joy 
 and comfort of the Hall. 
 
 The procession, if such it could be called, moved over to " St. 
 Luke's" — a lonely little church in the deep shades of sycamores 
 and live-oaks by the road-side. It was a pleasant spot, — wild 
 birds flitted through the branches, and filled the air with music, — 
 light zephyrs gave animation to the trembling sun-tinted sprays. 
 
 A small cemetery carefully enclosed, was near by; but the 
 governess' grave was dug outside the palings that enclosed the 
 blooded families. Within gleamed costly marble monuments, and 
 headstones among roses — yews and palmy grasses; but Honora 
 Hudson slept sweetly outside the aristocratic grounds, under the 
 deep shadow of a sweet gum, in the wild- wood. She had long 
 since ceased to pay any deference to such accidents of life, as 
 wealth or birth. 
 
 It was a pictuiesque group, that little band of slaves around the 
 grave and its lonely young mourner, in the checkered light that 
 sifted like a benediction through the tree tops. The parson lined a 
 hymn ; their voices rose solemnly on the air, like sacred incense 
 beneath green arches. There was a hidden resignation in the 
 clear full tones, which had been garnered from the hopelessness of 
 their own lives. 
 
 Hattie turned to Mauma Rose, who stood close by her, and 
 whose dear old face watched every changing look of "her chil's," as 
 she called her. She clasped her arms about mauma's neck, with 
 one long moan of anguish. Mauma held her to her heart, and 
 hushed her as she would hush an infant, — then half carried her to 
 the carriage door. 
 
 Arrived at the Hall, the servants quickly removed every vestige 
 of death's doings; opened windows and doors — filled vases v/ith 
 flowers in the dining-room, halls, and sleeping-chambers ; till within 
 and without, the very atmosphere was burdened with fragrance. 
 The cooks in the kitchens kindled their fires afresh, and busily pre- 
 pared for the evening's entertainment. The trusty butler gave 
 orders, and a house-full of servants obeyed. 
 
 Silver candelabra for the tables and walls received the final 
 touches, and held tall wax candles in their polished arms. Treas- 
 
WillTE MAY, AI^D BLACK JUNE. 153 
 
 ures of family plates were unlocked, and disposed in showy mag- 
 nificence on the dining-room tables. 
 
 Picture frames with faces to the walls were tnrned about, pre- 
 senting views of the chase in English parks, and Scotch highlands, 
 and over each were hung the huge branching antlers of American 
 stags ; some of them tipped with silver, and inlaid with a silver 
 dafe of the day and year of its capture. 
 
 The row of stables was drenched with water and thrown open to 
 the sun. The gardener trimmed truant sprays, and swept avenues 
 and walks. Towards sunset, Virgil, a prime jet black boy, was 
 sent to the outer gate of the grounds, with orders to " trow open de 
 bi<^ gate wide ; quick vou hear de marser horn ! Min' now ! Lis- 
 ten boy ! Cowhide comin' ! " Virgil went to his watch, amusing 
 himself meanwhile in jumping across the sandy road, Vv-hisUing like 
 a grosbeak, turning somersault, walking on his two hands and bel- 
 lowing like an alligator. . ,. 
 
 Just as the sun dropped behind the v/estern woods, a winding 
 horn brou^h him to his feet. The broad heavy gates were swung 
 backwards! Colonel Ashland, with a galloping troop of uproarious 
 hunters, rushed through, followed at a little distance by another 
 body of mounted slaves, bringing in the game, guns and hired 
 
 hounds. .,, , , , • 1 ^ 
 
 As he arrived first, he blew a long shrill blast on his horn, to 
 hasten the movement of the rear. On they came ; the black troop 
 dashing after the heels of the first Horses, negroes, panting dogs, 
 champing bits, the rattling of buckles, guns and trappings,— the 
 lordlv commands of the several rangers to their footmen and the 
 quick sharp reply of black menials, altogether made an enlivening 
 
 scene 
 
 Beds had been prepared for the '' Rangers ; " they were to re- 
 ceive the hospitalities of " Nightingale Hall." The six body-ser- 
 vants of the guests, mingling with the numerous house-servants, 
 and all running to and fro at the master's orders, imparted a hum 
 to hall, dressing-room and chamber. After the refreshing duties 
 of the toilet, the party resorted to the inviting moon-lighted 
 
 piazza. , 
 
 Roastino- viands in the kitchen evolved a savory odor. iNou^, tlie 
 various " boys," as they were termed, although they might be gray 
 
154 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE, 
 
 with years, stood like statues near their masters ; or gHcled up and 
 down the long piazza stairs, like shadows. Brandies and wines 
 were handed about on silver waiters, and drunk from silver goblets. 
 Each hunter sat enveloped in the aroma of a cigar ; and, as is usual 
 at such gatherings, the lide of discussion ran high on various sub- 
 jects vital to South Carc^ina's domestic, and foreign interests. 
 
 "Major Pendleton, ho'# are 3''0ur negroes progressing in the 'di- 
 vine life ' under the new missionary 7'cguneV 
 
 " Well, Major, I am not iftformed on that point, as religion is 
 quite out of my line. However, I have built them a little church, 
 and pay a Northern preacher a small salary per year. According 
 to all advices, his instructions will relieve the overseer of some of 
 his bloodiest labors." 
 
 " Is this Northern preacher sound on the Bible doctrine of sla- 
 very ? " 
 
 " All right, I can assure you, sir, — and if he labors as assidu- 
 ously to show my niggers that they were designed for bondage, by 
 the Creator, as he has labored to demonstrate the same to me, I 
 need fear no insurrection at present." 
 
 "When, and in what manner, originated this idea of furnishing 
 religious teaching for our slaves ? " asked Captain Mardyke. 
 
 " In the year 1831 — I think," replied Major Pendleton, the Rev. 
 Charles C. Jones preached a sermon on the spiritual destitution of 
 our slaves, before two associations of planters in Georgia. He 
 termed them 'A nation of heathen in our midst.* Of course, this 
 stirred the public mind ; and the matter was referred to a commit- 
 tee of the Synod of South Carolina and Georgia ; they reported 
 upon the religious instruction of our colored population. In sub- 
 stance they report, that from the Potomac to the Sabine river, from 
 the Atlantic to the Ohio, there are not twelve men exclusively de- 
 voted to the instruction of the negroes. They know of but five 
 churches in the slave-holding states, built expressly for their use. 
 They tell us that "in these years of revival, and benevolent effort 
 in this Christian Republic, there are two millions of human beings 
 in the condition of Heathen ; and in some respects, in a worse con- 
 dition ! " 
 
 "W^hen was that report made, sir? " asked Prof. La Bruce. 
 
 "In Dec. 5, 1833, it produced quite a sensation in many states. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 155 
 
 It was considered at first, you remember, gentlemen, as inflamma- 
 ory sentiment, and a dangerous expermient." 
 
 " Yes ! I remember," said Colonel Ashland. We have proved 
 that giving information of any kind to slaves is like applying a 
 match to gunpowder, in regard to our safety. The more we shape 
 them to the grand ideas of our Institution which are labor, and a 
 prolific increase, the more secure and remunerative is our owner- 
 ship. But after much agitation and conference of leading South- 
 ern minds, it has been thought that churches for our slaves would 
 make better workers, and prove safeguards for ourselves." 
 
 '' That is the true interpretation of the subject, Colonel," an- 
 swered j\Iajor Pendleton. " We concluded that every church would 
 stand for an arsenal, in our midst." 
 
 '* We have fostered, and developed one quality in the African 
 which will turn to our advantage in this new religious movement, 
 — and that is, reverence for their superiors;" said Captain Mar- 
 dyke. " They well know that God is the superior of all ; — but as 
 they cannot read for themselves, and consequently, can form no 
 independent judgments, they will rely upon their white teachers, to 
 unfold and construe the dealings of God with men. If this be done 
 in a skillful, and proper manner, it will prove of untold advantage 
 to our cotton and rice crops ; as well as to the stability of our sys- 
 tem." 
 
 " Certainly ! " replied the rich, musical voice of Fred Warham ; 
 " and with th^ proper teaching from the pulpit, that God ordained 
 slavery^ — with a hell to intimidate, and a heaven to attract, it would 
 be comparatively a much easier matter to hold our slaves in sub- 
 jection ! " 
 
 Fred Warham, a young sportsman of the first wa:er, was the 
 "one thing needful" in all the social gatherings of that section. 
 In the clan hunts of the planters and gentlemen of leisure, his 
 horse cleared every obstacle with a bound — from a fallen tree, or 
 boundary fence, to a boggy ditch. At the races, his quick glance 
 skirting the flying track, was the guide to grey-headed umpires. 
 On all political subjects, his sagacity, and high toned enthusiasm 
 in regard to the sacred Institution of his beloved State, won him 
 admiring auditors. 
 
 His inquiring mind led him to search out the character, and at- 
 
156 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 tributes of God, after the most approved theories of Theoloc^y in a 
 Northern Seminary ; and he had received a diploma for his laiowl- 
 edge of the same. He was called the "Rev. Fred," — and when 
 in Charleston, or other sister cities, of a Sabbath, he ascended 
 elegantly into the pulpit, with the air of one who had sounded the 
 depths of divine mystery; and turning the full blaze of his resplen- 
 dent oratorical 'powers upon clouded doctrinal points, illummated 
 the whole theory of the Christian religion. His versatile genius 
 made him reliable reference. Hence, on this occasion, there^'arose 
 around him a pleasant volley of applause at the expression of his 
 quick perceptions. 
 
 '' Right sir ! Right sir ! Right sir ! " echoed on every hand. 
 
 **I believe the Northern churches are generally sound in the 
 support of our institution and in the rights of the slave-holder;" 
 remarked Squire Meddleton. 
 
 " Assuredly sir I " replied Rev. Fred. •' The churches stand like a 
 wall in defence of slavery. Their ecclesiastical robes are unstained 
 by heresy in that direction ! Their unyielding patriotism is squarely 
 based upon the Constitution ! Why gentlemen ! the spire of every 
 Northern church, pointing with prophetic finger to the God whose 
 word is our highest earthly authority, is equal to a regiment of bay- 
 onets ! We should be weak indeed, without the church and the 
 coexisting protection of the National military arm ! We own the 
 slaves — they hold them! Really, we put on the manacles — the 
 North rivets them. We give the word of command — they pull the 
 trigger ! " 
 
 "With their Bibles and bullets we have nothing to fear ! " added 
 Major Pendleton. " Emphatically so ! sir ; and 1 desire to read you 
 a slip which I cut from the ' Marysville, Tenn., Intelligencer '' " 
 
 "We are your most interested listeners ! "' exclaimed the party. 
 "Tom, bring a light ; these magnolias are impervious to the rays 
 of the moon. " 
 
 Major Pendleton reqd, — 
 
 "We of the South are emphatically surrounded by a dangerous 
 class of beings — degraded, stupid savages, — who if they could 
 but once entertain the idea that immediate, and unconditional death 
 would not be their portion, would re-act the St. Domingo tragedy. 
 But the consciousness, with all their stupidity, that a ten-fold force, 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 157 
 
 superior in discipline, if not in barbarit}'', would gather from the 
 four corners of the United States, and slaughter them, keeps them 
 in subjection. But to the non-slave-holding States particularly, 
 are we indebted, for a permanent safe-guard against insurrection. 
 Without their assistance, the white population of the South would 
 be too weak to quiet that innate desire for liberty, which is ever 
 ready to act itself out, wiih every rational creature." 
 
 "A truthful view!" echoed several voices, ''The Northern clergy 
 are our watch dogs ! We must place brass collars upon their faith- 
 ful necks; engraved with the motto, ''No discussion T Without dis- 
 cussion, peace will prevail. Thus the clear rays of gospel light will 
 neither be broken, nor retarded." 
 
 "Buc," said Colonel Ashland, "what of this Synod of South Car- 
 olina and Georgia? Why has it recently become so solicitous in 
 its pious care of the slave ? It laments over two millions of human 
 beings in the condiion of heathen and in some respects in a worse 
 condition. Our niggers are not human beings! There must be 
 some wolves there, in sheep's clothing." 
 
 "I assure you not, sir ! They resolved unanimously, that, 'In 
 the opinion of this Synod, Abolition Societies, and the principles 
 on which they are founded in the United States, are inconsistent 
 with the interests of the slaves, the right of the holders, and the 
 great principles of our political institucions, ," 
 
 "That is the right basis for operations, " said Colonel Ashland ; 
 " but we may import firebrands into our midst, in the persons of 
 these preachers ; for you see they must be white men. We have 
 no black preachers, — and if we had, they would not be tolerated. 
 These shepherds must be white — and they must come from the 
 North. We Southerners have other and better business than 
 teaching the word of the Lord. Our own word is sufBcient for 
 us." 
 
 " There is not the least harm to be apprehended from this 
 source, " remarked Fred Warham. " The North turns out scores 
 of ministers at her doctrinal schools. Their theology is shaped ac- 
 cording to our National Constitution, and the Cons:itution was 
 moulded by our own hands. Prof. Stuart of Andover, the lead- 
 ing theological mind of that section leaves the right stamp upon 
 his students. He pronounces slavery right ; and entitled to protec- 
 
»5S WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 tion from all American citizens. I was educated there myself ; and 
 well remember his sturdy blows at the increasing fanaticism about 
 him. I have been thinking quite seriously of getting one of these 
 preachers inyself. I have written to one of my classmates. He 
 went to Virginia after graduation, and has some experience in deal- 
 ing with slaves ; which I consider a valuable acquisition. You 
 know there are four hundred belonging to my estate ; and they 
 raise the devil, generally. They shirk their tasks, steal, bear false 
 witness, and get their backs cut up handsomely. But I must try 
 some other remedy. If there is anything in the United States to 
 tame them, it devolves upon me to lind it. Speaking of this new 
 shepherd for my flock ; I beg you gentlemen to listen to an extract 
 from his reply to me." 
 
 He took a letter from his pocket and read, — 
 
 '' Slavery is not only countenanced, permitted and regulated by 
 the Bible ; but it was positively instituted by God himself. He has 
 in so many words enjoined it ! " 
 
 The ringing of the supper-bell interrupted conversation, and the 
 party entered the dining-room. The pictures and flowers, the sil- 
 ver and glass, presented a brilliant array. By the light of the Bri- 
 arian candelabras, the feasters were helped by their servants to 
 venison, turkey, duck, and other wild game. The tables were bur- 
 dened with the richest dessert Charleston afforded. The baskets 
 containing it had been " toted " to the Hall. from the schooner but 
 a short time in advance of the arrival of the master. They ate, 
 drank, toasted and cheered till past midnight. 
 
 " Old Holyrood rang merrih', 
 That night with wassail, mirth and glee, 
 King James wiihin his princely bower, 
 Toasted the chiefs of Scotland's power, 
 Summoned to spend the parting hour." 
 
 At length wine, the potent ruler of man's godlike intellect, took 
 the throne. Wine installed itself master of ceremonies. 
 
 " The fiery flood, 
 \Vhose purple blood 
 Has a dash of Spanish bravado." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 1 59 
 
 Still they held the cup, — 
 
 " And bade the goblet pass. 
 In their beards the red wine glistened, 
 Like dew-drops in the grass." 
 
 "They drank to the soul of Witlaf; 
 They drank to Christ the Lord ; 
 And to each of the twelve Apostles 
 Who had preached Llis Holy Word." 
 
 The toasts were numerous and characteristic ; a few of which are 
 given. 
 
 The first gentleman offered, — 
 
 '•The words of our illustrious General Hayne. *Next to the 
 Christian Religion, I consider Free Trade in its largest sense, as 
 the greatest blessing that can be conferred on any people.' " 
 
 Another proposed "Nullificaiion and one of its Ordinances." 
 ( Cries of Hear ! Hear ! Hear ! ) " The people of this State will 
 hold themselves absolved from all further obligation to maintain or 
 preserve their political connection with the people of the other 
 States ; and will forthwith proceed to organize a separate govern- 
 ment ; and do all other acts and things, which Sovereign and In- 
 dependent States may of right do. " 
 
 The old slogan, " Disunion ! " " Secession ! " " Sovereign State ! " 
 was the hearty response. In enthusiastic anticipation, goblets 
 went crashing through the window panes, — a miniature tocsin of 
 shivering glass. 
 
 Mr. Fred Warham's figure was a fine type of manly perfection. 
 
 " His form was middle size. 
 For feat of strength, or exercise ; 
 Shaped in proportion fair ; 
 • And hazel was his easjle eve. 
 And auburn of the darkest dye, 
 
 His short curled beard and hair. 
 
 Light was his footstep in the dance 
 
 And firm his stirrup in the lists ; 
 
 And oh ! he had that merry glance, 
 
 That seldom lady's heart resists." 
 
 Wine, the magician had a stronger mental, and physical fibre to 
 bend in Fred, than in some of his compnnions. The purple 
 draught seemed only to have flashed sunshine mto his brain. 
 
l6o WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 He was promenading in the long, broad hall with Minnie, the 
 chamber-maid. Together they swung in and out cf the moonlight, 
 like fairies; till her cheek grew tulip red, beneath its film of 
 brown. 
 
 The watchword, "Nullification", arrested his light feet, as 
 quickly as a shot fired across the bow arrests a cruiser. He en- 
 tered the dining-room. He drank to " Nullification," and ofi'ered 
 an additional sentiment. 
 
 "The sacred soil of Carolina! Woe be to its invaders! In the 
 words of our distinguished defender : ' I recognize no allegiance 
 as paramount to that, which the citizens of South Carolina owe to 
 the State of their birth, or their adoption ! '" 
 
 Bacchanalian applause interrupted. But a gallant wave of Fred's 
 fair, bejeweled hand restrained the clamorous guests ; and he pro- 
 ceeded in slow, impressive tones,-— 
 
 " South Carolina cannot be drawn down from the proud emi- 
 nence on which she has now placed herself; except by the hands 
 of her own children ! Give her a fair field, and she asks no 
 more ! " ' 
 
 Although wine and brandy had stupefied nerve and brain, this 
 last monstrosity — Rev. Fred's supposition that South Carolina 
 would be destroyed by her own children ; that South Carolina, re- 
 gal, haught}', self-poised, should die the death of a suicide ; thereby 
 excluding herself from the Mausoleum of an honorable fame; — 
 that she should lie in a grave of disgrace ; — these bitter thoughts 
 roused the slumbering ire of their souls ! The Spartan motto, 
 "With our shields, or on our shields!" was the universal re- 
 sponse. 
 
 Colonel Ashland conformed to ihe usual custom, on festive occa- 
 sions ; and proposed the closing sentiment. 
 
 "The fair Daughters of South Carolina! distinguished for their 
 purity, beauty, and grace ! " Glowing memories were awakened ; 
 and sacred names of mother, sister, sweet heart, were reveren- 
 tially pronounced ; till the air seemed hushed, and purified by the 
 spell. 
 
 None slept in Nightingale Hall, except the children of Colonel 
 Ashland. Their sleep was a deep oblivion which nothing disturbs. 
 
 In that room, Hattie sat on a low seat, — her head resting on 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. l6l 
 
 Mauma Rose's lap. Her eyes were wear}^ and sorrowful. This 
 was the first high wassail she had experienced. The confusion 
 and uproar caused a throb of fear. Alauma smoothed her hair 
 with a slow, mesmeric hand — at the same time expressing her 
 own bitter thoughts. These thoughts were not the hasty efferves- 
 sence of an excited moment; — they had slowly crystalized around 
 her heart during a life-time. 
 
 " Neber mine, chile ! I'se heerd 'em hoopin' an' hollerin' eber 
 cence I hear nottin' — de debbils ! — drink! drink! drink! Dat 
 all dey good for I ain't half so 'spectable as de hosses in de stab'e ! 
 Neber mine, 'em, young missis ! De Lord git arter 'em bime by ! 
 Jcs sich noise in tousan' oder house in de Souf. Dey gwine to bed 
 now, missis. Hear ? " 
 
 A final peace was concluded. Each footman spread a blanket 
 on the floor, and threw himself down by the master's couch ; se- 
 cretly thankful the day was over. The remnant of the night was 
 left to the lonely hooting of a winking owl, in the magnolias. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE last day of revival week v;as dawning. When the bright 
 yellow sun peered over the snowy brink of Cloudspire, he 
 found himself belated in the morning business. It was plain that 
 his majesty was not a revivalist ; and that his royal heart was not 
 in the holy work then being carried to its completion. It was 
 glaringly evident, that he was not a believer, from the broad self- 
 sufficient smile with which he saluted every farmhouse ; and 
 quenched the puny flames of its tallow candles ; the candles on 
 the smoking breakfast tables ; the candles in the hands of plump 
 dairy women, skimming rich cream in amber folds from waiting 
 pans ; the candles on side tables ; where rosy maidens stood pack- 
 ing into lunch baskets, carvings of roast meats ; slices of bread 
 and golden butter ; wedges of cake ; pans of tawny doughnuts ; 
 and blocks of cheese. 
 
 In a hardened, unreflective way, he thrust his long tardy rays 
 into the faces of the exclusive whale oil lamps, watching on the 
 
1 62 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 parlor mantles ; and jestingly laid brighter lights on the gray, 
 chestnut, and auburn heads of early risen guests. He pushed his 
 way through half open barn doors ; and laid golden bars on the 
 littered floors. 
 
 He found Henry Hughes, — extinguished his lantern ; and bade 
 him walk on patches of the "New Jerusalem come down" into 
 frozen barns ! He gilded the snow-shoveled paths to the stable ; 
 and bade Hal's ragged feet " walk the golden streets " — the sac- 
 rilegious, jocular old sinner ! that sun ! 
 
 When the paths were continued about the house, to the buried 
 road, Hal wrought with a golden shovel ; and threw up to the 
 light, long massive heaps of the yellow ore. 
 
 Thus he went on; — this god of da}^ thrusting his curious, im- 
 pudent glances into bed-rooms, large and bleak, small and cosy, — 
 '• up stairs, down stairs, and in my lady's chamber ; " but found no 
 one napping. 
 
 Mary and Fanny patted and rounded two plump pillows, as the 
 last touch of neatness to their bed. Fanny exclaimed, " There 
 comes the sun ! the magnificent sun ! He shames the candle with 
 his glory ! Let us roll up the curtains. Oh ! ]Mary ! do come and 
 look out! how beautiful 1 The shadows of your maple trees look 
 as if they were penciled on white velvet. See ! how delicately 
 every twig is drawn ! " 
 
 "It is pretty," replied Marv ; "but I never noticed them be- 
 fore." 
 
 " And Mary ! observe the windows of your neighbors' liouses, 
 over the hill ! The panes are of molten gold ! How they flash ! — 
 and the pines are wearing fresh white robes, and mantles of down ! 
 And look Mary, at the sofi purple veil which the distant range of 
 Green Mountains wears! Oh! it all fills my soul with unspeakable 
 pleasure ! I can neither express, nor explain the emotions with 
 which Nature overwhelms me! There's a divine glory about them, 
 and an overshadowing presence of the wisdom, and goodness of 
 their Creator, that is bewildering! " 
 
 " I cannot feel as you do, " replied Mary, regretfully. " Why 
 are we so different from each other? Tliis morning's sun illumines 
 your spirit ! I wish, Fanny, you could see your own eyes ! They 
 sparkle like the golden windows over the hill ! Snow is simply 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE.' 1 63 
 
 white, and cold, to me. Summer is haying-time, — and dniry toil! 
 The sun seems made to call me from sweet sleep, and its setting 
 leaves me tired with day. I have no poetry in my nature, I sup- 
 pose, — at least, Uncle William tells me so. " 
 
 "Neither have I poetry in my nature, Mary ; " throwing one arm 
 lovingly, around her friend's neck. " There's no merit in me for 
 it, ]\Iary. I really love these snows, these shadows, and blue 
 mountains. They speak tome! — they calm and satisfy me. I 
 cannot help being happy in their presence. Ah ! there come the 
 slow, patient oxenout of their stables ! Their breath freezes on 
 the sharp winter air. The brass buttons on their horns glitter in 
 the sun ; bless them ! the great gentle things ! There come Czar 
 and Sultan to stir their blood ! — there they go ! rearing, and pranc- 
 ing! How grand and graceful they are! Do you know, Mary, I 
 am wicked enough to covet those beautiful creatures ? " 
 
 "Fanny, I imagine you and Lucy Clarendon are very much alike. 
 She always looks content, and absorbed with something beyond 
 ordinary vision ; as if she were holding converse with invisible 
 voices ; and cai'ed nothing for us prosy, matter-of-fact farmer girls, 
 as Uncle WiUiam calls us. I beHeve I should love her ; and Lucy 
 might have some affection for me, if I could make her acquaint- 
 ance, — for you love me, Fanny ; although I cannot see why. " 
 
 " Girls ! why are you standin' idle at the windows ! Breakfast is 
 waitin' ! " spoke a chilling, censorious voice, at the open door. 
 " Fanny, I hoped to have found you on your knees, askin' a bles- 
 sin' on your brother Richard's efforts to-day. Although he is not 
 ordained yet, he can bear his testimony for the Lord. Cloudspire 
 has reason to be spiritually proud of its young theologian j — this 
 town may truly be called the vineyard of the Lord." 
 
 Prudence, for it was none other, motioned to her awe-struck 
 companion: "Mary, go down to your mother, and leave Fanny 
 with me. I desire to see her alone. 
 
 " Sit down Fanny, and let me give you some advice. I came in 
 still, lest I should disturb your wrestlin' wnth the Holy Spirit; and 
 heard you admiring the hills, the dumb cattle, and the sun. Now 
 Fanny, all these things are vanities. To w^orship them is to be 
 like the heathen, who bow down to storks and stones. They are 
 not made in the image of God, and have no souls. You should 
 
l64 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 meditate 'on the dark solemnit}^ of lost spirits, — you should keep 
 that view before your mind, — if, haply, you might be the means of 
 pluckin' one, as a brand from the burnin'. The true believer has 
 no time for gayety or rejoicin', in this vale of tears. I feel as if it 
 was given to me to admonish the young, and to set their feet in 
 the narrow path to eternal life. As I shaJl not see you after this 
 mornin', remember Vvhat I have said respectin' the curse of Ca- 
 naan. Touch not the accursed thing. I want to welcome you 
 around the great white throne; but Fanny, remember, if you inter- 
 fere and intercept the designs of Providence towards the lower 
 races of men, if you g've your love to the sun, stars, to trees and 
 mountains and rivers; if you don't maintain a righteous hatred to 
 the Jews ; and if you don't turn scornfully away from Roman 
 Catholic Cathedrals, an angry God will cast you from his presence 
 forever ! Aly duty is done ! Pray that you may be saved from 
 these destroyin' temptations." 
 
 Half-past ten approached. The church bell sent forth its clang- 
 ing voice on the clear, cold air; drowning the strings of smaller 
 bells which rose and fell over the hills, and slid into the valleys, 
 which came from the North, the South, the East, and the West ; 
 which wound along the frozen brooks, or echoed past the leafless 
 forests. Nearer and nearer they came ; till jingle and clang, and 
 clang and jingle proclaimed with riotous tongues, the gathering of 
 the elect. 
 
 A glow of satisfaction beamed on most of the faces, successively 
 alighting at the green church door. A bigoted devotee would have 
 recognized this glow, as the new peace wiUi God. A cooler scru- 
 tiny into hearts would have found its well-spring of gladness to be 
 the near close of dreary revival week ; that the avenging God was 
 about to veil His dreaded face ; that the wild sea of human de- 
 pravity would cease to be dragged to its turbid depths, for dead 
 and hidden sins ; that the sulphurous fumes of an uncovered Plell 
 were about to sink into a burned-out crater ; thus ceasing to out- 
 rage every earthly aspiration ; tbnt at last they might go to quiet 
 homes, yet left standing, amid the crash of worlds ; and tread the 
 usunl paths of a terrestrial existence. 
 
 The only blot upon the morning landscape, and the only shadow 
 upon the universal content, was Dr. Clarendon's house just across the 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 1 65 
 
 whitened common. Glowering and bereaved glances assailed its 
 calm front, and red-curtained windows. There it stood, with the 
 same ghastly effrontery as ever ; the tomb of Cloudspire's selectest 
 loves, and most sanguine connubial hopes ; the very charnel house 
 of skeleton marriages and nuptial bliss ; of projected journeys, of 
 blasted orange groves, of the sweetest of maidens* prayers, and the 
 most bewitching of girlhood's smiles. Within its detestable walls, 
 William Steele had been inveiMed. 
 
 The house of God, standing near, was the only asylum for 
 stricken souls ; and resignedly these worshipers of the true God 
 turned to its courts, as pale-faced celibate nuns, who have re- 
 nounced the world, to enter solemn cloisters. 
 
 On the other hand, this revival week had a few substantial pleas- 
 ures. Farmers had time and opportunity to discuss and compare 
 the last year's crops, the average price of stock and farms, the out- 
 look of politics, the stern policy of Jackson, the NuUifiers and the 
 Constitution. Housewives gained new recipes for preserves and 
 pickles, for coloring pale winter butter into an article as salable as 
 the yellow rolls of summer, and the precise amount of otter which 
 would convert a tough, pale, white-oak cheese into the hue of a 
 golden aurora, — a conversion quite as thorough, and profitable as 
 those supernatural changes wrought around the anxious seat. 
 Thus vv-ere furnished subjects of thought and practice, for many a 
 rapid month to come. 
 
 Gathered in clusters in the high-backed pews, they had counted 
 over the increase of families — sudden deaths ; and marriages pros- 
 perous or otherwise, — they had analyzed their trying " complaints," 
 •whose name was Legion — compared hydra-headed symptoms, 
 till it was a comfort to know that pain and debility are the common 
 inheritance of woman ; to be devoutlv endured as the Providential 
 chasteners of their wayward spirits. All these points which the 
 pulpit could not appropriately illumine, had been agitated ; and, 
 aside trom Lucy Clarendon's bold, outrageous assumption, the 
 gain had been great. 
 
 The congregation gathered around Richard Beame. A subtle 
 manifestation of confidence and pride was observable, as his hear- 
 ers got into position, settled their garments and gazed at his 
 young and earnest face. Was he not a plant of their own nurs- 
 
1 66 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 ing ? Would not the world be indebted to that church, for the gos- 
 pel preached from his lips ? Had he not been strengthened and 
 sanctified by their prayers ? Even so, it seemed in their sight. 
 
 The text appeared a wise selection ; compound, but bearing 
 upon the same point. It was from Gallatians, vi. 2, and Hebrews 
 xiii. 3. " Bear ye one another's burdens ; " and, *' Remember them 
 that are in bonds, as bound with them." In Sanctuary parlance, 
 there was no burden but sin, — mysterious, ever-present, all-per- 
 vading, undefinable sin. There were no other bonds, but the un- 
 seen, Eden-forged chains of depravity; imposed by no mortal, and 
 from the power of which no mortal was ever expected to free those 
 bound. 
 
 The mental interpretation of the text, was complimentary to the 
 church. " Richard knows how we have labored with those in bonds 
 during this whole week, " ran through the minds of the audience, 
 like an electric spark. For a time, the speaker seemed to keep to 
 the old beaten track ; holding up the example of the Savior of men, 
 in seeking to save others ; in going about doing good ; but swerv- 
 ing somewhat, when he maintained, that the tenderest sympathies 
 towards the suffering in this life, were among tli^ first fruits of re- 
 pentance. And when he proclaimed, that bread given to the 
 hungry ; clothes to the naked, and tears to those who w^eep, were 
 the best evidences of conversion, a great apprehension went through 
 the house. Alas ! the promising bud of the text burst into a 
 strange blossom! — of foreign scent — and nourished in a strange 
 soil. 
 
 Nevertheless, Richard proceeded to show that the bonds which 
 they should remember, were no ideal links which vaguely clank 
 through vacant chambers of superstitious souls. The bonds which 
 the speaker held up to their perceptions, were real, tangible: hard 
 and cold. These bonds were veritable chains, — made by hands of 
 flesh and blood ! wrought from iron bars, heated to redness among 
 the hot glowing coals of a blacksmith's forge ! welded link by link 
 on a smithy's anvil ! where living, muscular arms, in sleeves rolled 
 to the shoulder, plied stroke after stroke, and blow after blow, with 
 the measured precision of a tolling bell ! and often, too often, toss- 
 ing in tlie sharp dissonance with the hallowed roll — both floating 
 heavenward together. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 167 
 
 These bonds which Richard pictured to public gaze, were iron 
 manacles, hard and heartless, — shaped for wrists of tlesh. They 
 could chafe, and blister the skin,— and like hungry wolves, find 
 the red blood beneath. These bonds were fetters, riveted by the 
 workman ; with his box of tools beside him, upon the ankles and 
 limbs of fellow travelers to the great white Throne ; and to the 
 golden streets of the saints' abode. These fetters could corrode 
 and canker the incarnate images of God ! could eat into the ten- 
 dons like cruel fangs; and make each step towards Heaven, in- 
 fernal. 
 
 The bonds Richard bade them remember, were the chains, man- 
 acles, and fetters of chattel slavery. More! the burdens to be 
 borne were the groans, tears, and the privations of the American 
 slave. He averred that the exercise of the master's prerogative 
 was wanting in every essential of Christianity. 
 
 Indignation and consternation seized his hearers. Each scanned 
 the face of the other, for some plan of action. William Steele 
 opened the way. He rose, gave his arm to Lucy, led her from the 
 church to her fathers, and returned. As he entered, Richard was 
 recounting, with liquid eyes, the horrors of the auction block, the 
 lash, and the chain gang. For a time, the inherent sovereignty of 
 Truth dismayed, and held his mutinous congregation in abeyance. 
 The overseer's hasty step was heard advancing up the aisle. This 
 pillar of strength came to the front. With a rallying cry, his angry 
 voice protested against the further desecration of God's Holy 
 Sanctuary. He announced the words of the speaker a delusion, 
 and a lie! "Richard Beame is a fanatic ! a leader of sedition! 
 He bears the torch of destruction to the fair fabric of our National 
 Union, and to Freedom!" His enraged eyes surveyed and ap- 
 pealed to every part of the audience. 
 
 " Let him dare to utter those sentiments in Charleston, or any 
 part of South Carolina, a dozen ready bullets would stain the pul- 
 pit with his traitorous blood ! or, if he escaped therefrom, the 
 bowie knife would find its swift revenge.'' 
 
 Springing upon a seat, with both arms extended, he yelled,— 
 
 " My brethren in the church militant ! I call upon you to rid your- 
 selves of this miscreant in sheep's clothing." 
 
 Confusion reigned ; the clergy and leaders came to their feet. 
 
1 63 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Doors slammed after those rushing out. The tramping, and shuf- 
 fling of feet filled pews and aisles ; it came pouriiig down stairs, 
 mingled with sharp, resentful voices. Above the din, like the 
 harsh piping of the wind in a storm, Edmund Stone, the luinch 
 back, begged to be heard. 
 
 " I desire to recoid my testimony against this innovation! Po- 
 litical and secular affairs have no place in the church. The 
 church repudiates this sanguinary agitation. It incites the savage 
 African hordes of our sister South, to insurrection a,)d murder ! I 
 hereby free my skirts from joining hands with this unholy and 
 misguided philanthropy.'' 
 
 Farther expression was overpowered. The Willies, the Eddies, 
 and the Joes, who had just " accepted Christ," the young cubs of 
 the iair, set up vehement roarings, — 
 
 '• Put him out 1 Choke the abolitionist ! Drag him down ! drag 
 him down !" 
 
 Women rose to their feet, despite the admonition of Paul, that 
 they should sit still. They indignantly discussed in under tones, 
 assisted by significant noddings and shaking of bonnets, Richard's 
 unheard of temerity. From their discussions dropped these 
 pearly words, — 
 
 " Niggers ! " " Our daughters ! " " Amalgamation ! " '' Marry ! " 
 
 The ministers left the pulpit; Richard followed alone. The 
 crowd obliged him to halt on the stairs — head and shoulders 
 above them. Paleness and surprise froze his features. Some- 
 thing white and round shied over them, and struck him in the 
 forehead. The snow-ball burst, blinding him with fine snow. 
 Llesitating, and nearly stunned, something smaller struck him on 
 the shoulder, and then again on the side of his head. A praying 
 hand hurled these eggs. Richard's fine coat was stained and 
 dripping with the strange offerings of brotherly love. 
 
 " Put out the abolitionist ! " " Go home, fanatic ! " " Take an- 
 other ! " " Amalgamation 1 " chimed in, with another storm of eggs 
 and snow-balls, as handily as they would have sung "Old Hundred," 
 or " The Lord into His garden comes." 
 
 Richard reached the floor; there, sheltered by the roystering 
 crew, the pelting ceased. He could not advance, but remained 
 standino-. Not a friend offered sympathy or advice. The vocif- 
 
"TB XETER KXETV^ GOD." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. i6q 
 
 erations of deacons and laymen, of old and young, in vain efforts 
 to be heard, clashed like broadswords. "Put him out! put him 
 out ! rang through the house. 
 
 Fanny sprang from Deacon Steele's pew, down the aisle, around 
 by the East door, where the crowd was thinnest. Workino- her 
 
 way through to her brother, she put her arm through his'' sav- 
 mg,— ^ ' J 
 
 "Let us go, my poor brother ! Let us go home for safety I 
 will walk with you. Where is your hat, dear Richard .? " 
 
 His head bowed to her ear. 
 
 " In the pulpit." 
 
 Up the stairs she flew; all eyes followed her: glaring uDon 
 this second superlative breach of decorum, but ferocity grew tame 
 at the sight. In an instant, her flushed and tearful face looked 
 over the open " Steele " Bible, reposing on its royal bed ; and met 
 the upturned gaze below. Stretching out one small hand and arm 
 over their heads, she cried,— 
 
 " Men and women of the church of Cloudspire ! do you dare to 
 call yourselves the children of the Most High .? Do yon dare to 
 insult and spit upon His young servant, because he has spoken to 
 you this day, the Eternal Truth > Do you call yourselves the fol- 
 lowers of Him whose name is Love." 
 
 Her hand \yent up in the direction where her faith still cluno- • 
 and while falling tears gave a significant baptism to the guilty 
 pages which received them, her clear and steady modulation, cleft 
 the air ; rang to the ceiling,— 
 
 " Ye never knew Christ 1 ye never knew God ! " In another mo- 
 ment, she had glided down, given Richard his hat, and with her 
 arm in his, was walking through the space, voluntarily opened for 
 
 Thus will weak, pusillanimous man yield to girlhood's attrac- 
 tions ^vhat he refuses to Justice, and to Omnipotence itself. 
 V v!^'\ i ;^early gained the door, when a quick hand knocked 
 Richard s hat to the floor. Another caught it up, and threw it 
 from the green door, rolling on the snow. Deacon Steele hastily 
 climbed to the back of a pew, (under more concern for Fanny 
 than for her brother,) and cried, 
 
 " I protest against any further abuse, brethren ! I shall take 
 
170 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 that brother and sister in my sleigh. Let them depart in peace." 
 
 Like wild animals whose appetites have been whetted by a taste 
 of flesh, there was no restraint. '' No ! no ! no ! He shall 
 walk ! " 
 
 William Steele fiercely caught the deacon's attention w^ith a 
 saving rebuke, — 
 
 " No compromise with amalgamation and infidelity ! " 
 
 ''No compromise ! no compromise ! " was taken up by a hundred 
 voices ; till the very air was drunken with the war-cry of their South- 
 ern masters. 
 
 They passed out : Fanny picked up Richard's hat, and they were 
 allowed to depart without further molestation. 
 
 They took the middle of the road to Alderbank. It was not well 
 traveled since the storm of the day previous ; and every step 
 plunged ankle deep in untrodden snow. They soon made a turn 
 in the road, and a short descent. Just ahead, blocking the path, 
 a sleigh waited. Expecting fresh insult and about to step out in 
 the deep snow, to pass, the cheery voice of Simon Link bade them 
 stop. 
 
 " Let me drive out a leetle, and then you get in here. You see, 
 I slipped out o'that air meetin' house, when they was a fighting, 
 and backed out o' that air shed, and come on here, a purpose to 
 wait for ye. " 
 
 " No, Simon ; let us walk ! I should be sorry to bring you into 
 judgment with the church, for taking me into your sleigh ! Fanny 
 dear, you can ride. I will walk. A good soldier must - endure 
 hardness for Christ's sake. " 
 
 " Walk or ride, I shall go with you ! " decided Fanny, 
 
 " Git in here ! " urged Simon, ( thrashing his arms. ) " What 
 do I care for the judgment of such folks ? It's the Lord that leads 
 us beside the still waters and green pastures ! It ain't men ! Git 
 in Richard! that's right! What a shameful sight you air! daubed 
 over with them eggs, from head to foot 1 and wet through to your 
 skin with them melted snow balls ! I've took an extra buffalo to 
 cover you up. " 
 
 He tucked in Richard up to his neck, with the best robe, and 
 threw the faded one over Fanny. He hopped again into the snow 
 on her side, and drew the soft hay in a heap about her. " There ! 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 171 
 
 bury your wet feet in that, — it's better'n nothing. This old biiffa- 
 ler's tore some ; but I know you won't see it, as long as Richard's 
 warm, and there's a horse ahead. *' He was in again, knocking the 
 snow from his feet, wrapping his old butternut-colored blanket 
 about him, and gathering up the lines. 
 
 " I'll set so you can see Thunderbolt ; this ere sorrel's mine. 
 You like bosses. Miss Fanny; and he'll take you to Alderbank in 
 no time ! He's of a long-stepping breed. " 
 
 "You are so good, Simon;" said Fanny. "Wall! I ain't no 
 better'n I ought ter be. I've knowed you two, for some years. I 
 know ye both, through and through ; an' I ain't a goin' to see ye 
 walk four mile in the snow, for anybody. Go on thunderbolt ! 
 Show Miss Fanny your largest, handsomest tracks! See that? 
 He skims over the road like a deer. I never struck him a blow 
 yet, an' I never shall. Ye see, Richard, I feared what they'd do! 
 I've seen jes such carryin's on out West. I see a man took out of 
 a hall; carried to a place where they had a fire, and a kittle o'tar ; 
 they stripped off his clothes ; shaved his head, an' covered him 
 completely with the tar and a piller full of feathers. There was 
 two fine dressed gentlemen there, standin' and lookin' on, and tell- 
 in' the rest what to do. Somebody told me they were Southern- 
 ers from Georgia. One of 'em took his ridin' whip, gave the naked 
 man some sharp cuts ; and told him that was the medicine for agi- 
 tarors. The poor feller ran for his life, nobody cared where. It 
 was all because he told the people that slavery wasn't a Christian 
 institution ! These two men called him an infidel ; and said they'd 
 teach him to believe the Bible ! " 
 
 " Did you ever know what became of him ? " asked Fanny. 
 
 " Wall ! I let my drove o'cattle lay over one day to rest. By one 
 means an' another I found out a Quaker family about three miles 
 off, took him in. That night I went there; told 'em I was a friend ; 
 an' they let me into his room. He was sick a-bed ; but them 
 Quakers was as good to him, as if he was their own son. I had 
 some money in my wallet ; I gave him what I could spare. Be- 
 fore the sun was up the next mornin', I was drivin' my cattle 
 towards the East." 
 
 They glided on awhile in silence. Fanny knew not how to 
 
172 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 frame words, either to condemn these barbarities, or to reconcile 
 tliem with her preconceived ideas of the sjDirit of the church. 
 
 Richard also pondered upon the past few hours. Where had he 
 been? In the body, or out ? Had the lost spirits risen up from 
 the pit of the damned, and in a dance of demons overthrown his 
 reason, and driven him out with the mark of Cain upon him ? Was 
 he a sorcerer ? or was the church a body of magicians ? Had he 
 been practising the '• black art," or had they ? Had he learned 
 anything at the Seminary ? What was sin, and where was it ? 
 
 Simon turned about sideways. An angel seemed to address 
 them. Love, mercy and compassion, irradiated his features. 
 
 " Richard, I like the poor hunted critters that our forefathers 
 mailed down under the Constitution. I pity 'em." 
 
 That was the cordial both brother and sister needed. That 
 was the good Samaritan who placed it to their fainting lips. It 
 was the composing draught which settled perturbed ideas, and led 
 reason back to its accustomed seat. It was the pure white manna 
 from Heaven, on which their souls fed, and were refreshed. 
 
 Good Simon Link knew not the height, or depth of his own utter- 
 ance. He knew not that he had spoken words for the healing of 
 the nation ; that the simple phrases, " I like the poor hunted crit- 
 ters," and "I pity ^em," was the Higher Law, straight from the 
 Great White Throne, — supreme above all jurisprudence, and its 
 crippled administration of justice, — above all man's complicated 
 machinery for governing man, above all courts, above all juries, 
 above all jails, above all penitentiaries. He knew not what a halo 
 it set about his head, nor when or where it was written upon his 
 spirit. 
 
 Did unseen seraphs whisper it in the winds from the mountain 
 tops ? Did he learn it from the dumb droves with which he jour- 
 neyed league after league and year after year ? More probably 
 than from his own kind. Perhaps from the helpless bleatings of 
 his tired lambs. Perhaps from the gentle, weary eyes of his oxen. 
 Perhaps from the fidelity and aifection of his beloved shepherd 
 dogs. Simon Link had neither wife or child. He had never seen 
 his father; his mother let go his hands and folded her own in her 
 grave, while his little feet scarce toddled alone, and left him an un- 
 welcome legacy to the world. That world tossed him up to man- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 1 73 
 
 hood, as a burly teamster would toss a ragged bundle to the top of 
 his well-filled wagon. 
 
 He was never supposed to be a child of God, till this revival week 
 — and yet his lips dropped wisdom which wise men rejected. If 
 Simon Link's words, " I like the poor hunted critters, an' I pity 
 'em," were chiseled on the gates of cities ; at the entrance of com- 
 mercial marts \ over banker's and broker's doors ; on college walls ; 
 and the desks of common schools; above the Presidents chair; 
 and were emblazoned on the dome of the Capitol ; it would have 
 been the panacea for years of crimson wrongs and retributive woes. 
 It would have changed the clashing of political creeds, the coarse 
 mutterings of ignorance, the wailings for bread and the groans of 
 oppressed races, into the harmonious music of the spheres. 
 
 Simon kept on talking with the kindly aim of keeping his two 
 passengers from thinking on themselves. " There's a black feller 
 out in York State that always helps me get my droves over the 
 mountains. He's more a brother to me than any white man on the 
 road. His name is Monday. He w^as a slave. His master took 
 his wife, a black woman, and made her his own wife. There's yer 
 high-blooded grandee with a black wife ; stole from her own hus- 
 band. He sold jMonday's three children and hired Monday out ; 
 as we hire out bosses. Monday run away to the North. His 
 story all told is enough to make a stout man's heart stand still. 
 Them Southerners'll find a strong hand dealin' with 'em by and by 
 for such iniquity. Here we are, at home. Miss Fanny, didn't 
 Thunderbolt bring you quick ? " 
 
 " Yes, Simon, he's beautiful, and he's good like his master ! I 
 cannot find words to thank you. Come in to a warm fire and 
 supper." 
 
 " No, not now. I've a good many friends in my barn that have 
 waited all day for me, I feed them before I feed myself. Good 
 afternoon." 
 
 The church of Cloudspire, from open doors, crowded windows, 
 creaking benches and tops of pews, saw Richard and Fanny out of 
 sight, on their journey of martyrdom ; with the feeling that good 
 service had been done for God, Moses and the Constitution. — The 
 mobocratic effervescence subsided. The clergy withdrew from the 
 yet noisy faithful, and held a low conference — William Steele in 
 
174 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 their midst. After this they ascended to the pulpit and were 
 seated as before. 
 
 WilHam Steele took a chair on the altar. The people assorted 
 themselves out into their respective pews. Those who fled at the 
 first mention of "slave," entered at different doors. Prudence 
 White came from under the buffalo robes of the deacon's sleigh ; 
 whither she resorted as soon as the drift of the sermon broke upon 
 her. She afterwards confessed to the deacon's wife that she 
 almost riz right up to rebuke Richard on the spot. Indeed she 
 had opened her lips for that purpose, and drawn her breath and 
 got as far as " I ; " when she felt the cold hand of St. Paul on her 
 mouth ; and she ran from the spot. 
 
 At the east door entered Lottie, looking pale and frightened; 
 supported by Mrs. Clarendon's Hester; who walked with her to a 
 seat ; adjusted a shawl about her shoulders, and turned away to 
 the negro pew, under the gallery stairs. Lottie had fainted during 
 the melee ; all were glad to take breath after the Holy War. The 
 silence grew complete. Everybody's eyebrows were elevated, — 
 everybody's eyes were religiously cast down, — everybody's lip's 
 were tightly closed, — everybody's mouth properly drew down at 
 the corners, — everybody's hands meekly clasped together. 
 
 The revered mouthpiece and representative of Southern Despot- 
 ism, rose slowly from his seat on the altar. 
 
 " My brethren in the Lord : I did not expect during this short 
 visit to my native land, to have so golden an opportunity of de- 
 fending our holy faith, and our united National interests, against 
 its rising enemies ! I had not the honor of knowing your zeal in 
 defense of the two anchors of our Union and Prosperity, the Bible, 
 and the Constitution. Allow me to say, I am more than grati- 
 fied at the development of your firmness in this house to-day 1 I 
 shall bear your record of resistance to false teachers, and false 
 doctrines to the gentlemen of my adopted State. I shall show 
 them that your devotion to the institutions of our Country is as 
 deep as theirs. Southern gentlemen have ample time for thought, 
 and for weighing accurately in the political balance, the rights of 
 each section of our Union. Their cool blood is never stirred by 
 vulgar or inadequate impulses. They are not neophytes in na- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 1 75 
 
 tional, or civil polity. But, my friends, they are sorely exasperated 
 at increasing instances of Northern treachery. 
 
 Were these insolent, plotting traitors to our country within the 
 sound of my voice, I would bid them beware ! beware ! 
 
 ' The knightly and the blooded arm 
 That holds the lance to-da}', 
 Hath equal valor 'gainst a foe, 
 As in the ancient fray. ' " 
 
 Signs of commendation fell on his ear, footsteps gently raked the 
 gritty floor, stiff camlet cloaks rustled, red bandanas shook out 
 their wrinkles, noses gave forth victorious signals, throats cleared 
 as if draughts of honey had been passed about ; or, if more pleas- 
 ing to the reader, a quick touch of St. Vitus' dance animated the 
 joyful congregation. He continued, — 
 
 " As I am about to leave, some counsel may be due you on the 
 growing agitation which at present prevails all over our land. You 
 may thus be spared the painful exercise of sympathy with an un- 
 worthy object. The negro, as you are aware, was imported to this 
 country from Africa. He is of a different race from any other on 
 the face of the globe. According to great and scientific minds, he is 
 allied to the brute. In proof of this I will give you an extract from 
 a late author in New York. 
 
 He drew from his pocket a note-book. 
 
 " This book, which I would recommend to 3'our purchase and 
 perusal, is entitled, ' Evidences against the views of Abolitionists ; 
 consisting of physical and moral proofs of the natural inferiority of 
 the nesfroes.' " He read, — 
 
 " ' His (the negroe's) lips are thick, his zygomatic muscles large 
 and full, his jaws large and projecting, his chin retreating, his 
 forehead low, flat and slanting ; and, as a consequence of this lat- 
 ter character, his eyeballs are very prominent, apparently larger 
 than those of white men. All of the peculiarities at the same time 
 contributing to reduce his facial angle, almost to a level with the 
 brute. If, then, it is consistent with science to believe, that the 
 mind will be great in proportion to the size and figure of the bram^ it 
 is equally resonable to suppose that the acknowledged meanness 
 of the negro's intellect only coincides with the shape of his head \ 
 
176 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 or, in other words, that his want of capacity to receive a compli- 
 cated education, renders it improper and impolitic that he should 
 be allowed the privileges of citizenship, in an enlightened 
 country.' 
 
 "These are my views, my friends, and as you see, the general 
 opinion ; — except by a few late fanatics, who are making the vain 
 attempt to bring these degraded creatures to a level with them- 
 selves." 
 
 A short, piercing laugh startled the riveted attention, and died 
 out in a stifled giggle. It was a ludicrous little scream, apparently 
 set going by something ridiculous, or surprising. It was conta- 
 gious, for the young girls smiled, as their neads turned in search 
 of the offender. It was contagious, for a sunny gleam flashed up 
 in the eyes of the young men ; and many a stiff-set sanctuary 
 mouth lost its grimace. The watchful ear of the tithing-man 
 guided his step to the pew under the stairs. All eyes followed 
 him. There sat Hester, guiltily bending her face out of sight, 
 under her sheltering hood, and holdmg one corner of her shawl to 
 her mouth. She heard the feet stop at her pew, ( it had no door.) 
 and raised her head sufficiently to see his hand beckoning. She 
 arose, her head still lowered, and came into the aisle. Hester 
 heard the tart words, — 
 
 '' This is the house of God ! Go ! Leave it ! " 
 
 She passed slowly out, groping in her pocket for a handkerchief 
 to clear away the few blinding tears yet left in her heart for her- 
 self, and her trampled race. Something caught in her handker- 
 chief and fell upon the floor. A warbling ring of a silver piece 
 disturbed the hallowed air. She stooped, picked it up , and re- 
 stored it to her pocket. 
 
 Proof sufficient! It was hers — a fifty-cent piece! (Every far- 
 mer then knew the exact ring of a quarter, a half-dollar or a dol- 
 lar.) A black thief doubtless ! A case for the law ! Pleading 
 poverty ! Begging old clothes for her boy ! She should have no 
 more ! Destitute of veneration ! of honest}' I Head to small ! 
 Brutish in every particular ! So ran exclamatory thought, till the 
 man of law and order shut the door upon her. 
 
 Quiet being restored, the speaker read from his valuable notes. 
 
 *if we were constrained to admire so uncommon a being, (a 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 1 77 
 
 pious, highly cultivated, scientific negro,) our very admiration would 
 be mingled with disgust, because in the physical organization of 
 his frame, we meet an insurmountable barrier even to approach to 
 social intercourse ; and in the Egyptian color, which nature has 
 stamped on his features, a principle so strong as to forbid the idea 
 of a communion, either oiinterestoi oifeeling^is utterly abhorrent' " 
 (AL Rep., Vol. 7, p. 331.) 
 
 "This is the feeling of our wisest and best men. One more 
 quotation from a high authority and I have done. Henry Clay 
 in a speech, said of the free blacks ; ' of all the descriptions of our 
 population and of either portion of this African race, the free per- 
 sons of color are by far, as a class, the most corrupt, depraved and 
 abandoned.' " 
 
 " Now the people of the South who have negroes under their con- 
 trol as laborers, are well informed respecting these abolitionists. 
 They demand all friends of law and order to suppress discussion 
 on slavery. They are resolved to ferret out these emissaries. 
 They have formed committees of vigilance, who will punish by im- 
 prisonment and lynch law suspected persons. Georgia has 
 already offered a rev/ard of five thousand dollars to any one who 
 will arrest and bring to that State, William Lloyd Garrison — a 
 citizen of Massachusetts. 
 
 " These are a few facts, my brethren, which it will be well to pon- 
 der. Our beloved and Reverend minister will continue the subject, 
 for the purpose of enlightening you still farther." 
 
 The vigilance committee, the five thousand dollar reward, and 
 the lynch law, proved an excellent counter irritant ; and St. Vitus' 
 enthusiam cooled. 
 
 Rev. Augustus Johns next made a short, but pointed address 
 from the pulpit, on the claims of the Colonization Society. He 
 showed that there was no human power to counteract the causes 
 which prevent the elevation of free blacks in this country ; that 
 Africa was their proper place, and they should be returned there ; 
 that the Colonization Society had this beneficent object in view, of 
 transporting them thither; that it was founded in i8i6j that the 
 Legislatures of fourteen States had already passed resolutions in 
 its favor; that it originated in Virginia, and of its seventeen vice- 
 l^residents, twelve were elected from Southern States ; that the 
 
lyS WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Society opened an avenue in which they could labor for the negro, 
 within Constitutional limits. 
 
 He recommended the organization to their earnest consideration ; 
 and that they might the better understand its true spirit, read 
 extracts from its organ, the "African Repository" ; and also from 
 addresses of several States, in order that, as he said, " they might 
 be established in their goings." These extracts from pro-slavery 
 writers were the side-arms which were carried about for attack and 
 defense. Bloodless weapons, to be sure ; but deadly to those un- 
 armed with argument or moral courage. Hear him ! 
 
 '' I have made these special selections, my Christian friends, and 
 bear them about me ; so that as occasion requires, I may cast them 
 like oil upon the troubled waters of our beloved country. My first 
 is taken from the Editorial of Af. Rep., Vol. 7, p. 196." 
 
 ' The people of color must in this country remain for ages, prob- 
 ably y^r^z'^/-, a separate and distinct caste ; weighed down by causes 
 powerful, universal, invincible, — which neither Legislation nor 
 Christianity can remove.' 
 
 The second is taken from an address of the Conn. Col. Society. 
 He read with great emphasis and solemnity, — 
 
 "'The habits, the feelings, all the prejudices of Society, preju- 
 dices which neither refinement, nor argument, nor education, nor 
 Religion itself am subdue, mark the people of color, whether bond or 
 free, as the subjects of a degradation, inevitable and incurable.' " 
 
 "Thirdly, hear my friends, the Kentucky Col. Society in their offi- 
 cial address." 
 
 "It is against the increase of colored persons, who tahe a nom- 
 inal freedom and cannot rise from their degraded condition, that 
 this society attempts to provide. 
 
 " Fourthly, from the Memorial of the New York State Col. Societ}', 
 to the Legislature." 
 
 " ' We do not ask that the provisions of our Constitution and 
 Statute Book should be so modified as to relieve and exalt the con- 
 dition of the colored people, whilst they ?'e}?iain with us. Let these 
 provisions stand in all their rigor, to work out the ultimate and un- 
 bounded good of these people.' 
 
 " I could proceed much father, enforcing these principles by the 
 precedent of other States and eminent individuals ; but I deem it 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 1 70 
 
 only necessary to present a final authority to your judgment ; and 
 to convince you that these opinions already presented, are based 
 upon experiences fully coinciding with that authority. As an am- 
 bassador of Christ, I desire to present you the whole truth, and 
 here offer the reference. 
 
 '"The managers consider it clear that causes exist, and are 
 operating to prevent their improvement and elevation to any con- 
 siderable extent as a class in this country, which are fixed not only 
 beyond the control of the friends of humanity, but of any human 
 power. Christianity f^;?;^^/ do for them here what it will do for 
 them in Africa. This is not the fault of the colored man, nor of 
 the white man, but an ordination of Providence ; and no more 
 to be changed than the Laws of Nature.' 
 
 " It must be kept before the chucrhes, that whoever persists in 
 the agitation against slavery ; and in improving the condition of 
 the negro in this country, — I repeat, whoever does this, sets him- 
 self against the Supreme Will." 
 
 ^ A whispered conference ; and Rev. Luther Winfield came up be- 
 hind the purple couch of the Southern gift, — presenting to the o-aze 
 a mass of personal attractions. A waxen skin, rose-colored cheliks, 
 sapphire eyes, and auburn hair, were the sweet and persuasive 
 premises on which his arguments ever rested. He wished to say 
 that the sentiments expressed by his colleagues vibrated through 
 every fiber of his heart. But he proposed to turn to a more agree- 
 able and exalted object of contemplation, — the Southerner hirnself. 
 
 " The political associations of the South differ essentially from 
 ours. By this dissimilarity, as well as by birth, the Southerner's 
 character is distinctive. His alliances are" ancient — with the Old 
 World — aristocratic and royal. This noble, high blood has been 
 proudly kept in the purest channels, so that the knightly courtesy 
 of the days of chivalry is its inherent, and most brilliant quality. 
 The Southerners are a people of rigid integrity, and a most delicate 
 sense of honor, — an honor that brooks not insult, from subordinate 
 or equal. They have the advantages of unstinted wealth, broad 
 culture, and the polish of foreign travel. Their generous open- 
 handed hospitality is baronial and world-renowned. They inherit 
 the sunniest portion — the garden of the United States. To us is 
 given the cold and rugged North. 
 
l8o WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "Their slaves are an inheritance of the past, guaranteed to them 
 by our common Constitution, from which no human arm can wrest 
 that guaranty. These slaves are happy and content; they sing 
 every day at their work, and dance around their cabin fires at 
 night. They desire no change in their condition ; but are gratified 
 to have been brought to a land of religious light and knowledge, 
 where they may be taught to know God, and His dealings with men." 
 
 He grew warm. Each cheek flushed into a crimson rose, and 
 his lips into two twin cherries. 
 
 "What are the Abolitionists, I ask ? A handful of idiotic dwarfs, 
 raising their puny hands against this adamantine wall of obstacles. 
 A few years will witness their humiliating discomfiture ! " 
 
 It were a school for a painter of that period whose particular 
 genius portrayed girlhood and womanhood, to have studied the 
 blu.hing, coquettish, sympathetic enthusiasm of the fair faces 
 turned toward the pulpit at that moment. 
 
 The Rev. Luther closed by admonishing his hearers to study 
 more critically the pure and noble Southern traits ; to refrain from 
 discussion which dangerously stirred chivalric blood ; and above 
 all, to assist in returning to Africa the free blacks about them ; 
 thus washing the fair escutcheon of our American Freedom from 
 the dark stain of a monstrous degradation. " 
 
 Signs of ardent approval were conspicuous in the congregation. 
 
 Rev. Mr. Harstburg, the pastor, felt forced to raise his voice in 
 unison with the church. He had clearer perceptions of the char- 
 acter of our Creator than he had found in the books. His course 
 of thought was more independent than that of his colleagues. But 
 he loved quiet, and avoided controversy. He had, in visits to 
 Boston, seen and read the "Liberator, " edited by the pioneer aboli- 
 tionist, Garrison. Its denunciations fell hke hail-stones on the 
 green paths his feet loved to travel. Its keen truths haunted his 
 meditations, and came nigh freeing him from the enthrallment of 
 bigotry, which the church had woven about him. But he wilfully 
 closed hiS'.eyes, and stifled his conscience by his love of ease, and 
 a fixed salary. He therefore advised his people to avoid the col- 
 umns of that "inflammatory " sheet, the Liberator, — if, by chance, it 
 fell in their way to turn from it; as it could but forment the unhal- 
 lowed passions of the reader. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. l8l 
 
 Permission was granted to any one in the body of the church to 
 join the crusade against agitation. Mr. Buddington, in his fur-lined 
 coat, for one, believed the Constitution was founded on Moses and 
 the Prophets ; and urged subscriptions to the African Repository. 
 He walked up to the altar, and laid down one hundred dollars for 
 the Colonization Society j proposing to remain, taking names, and 
 money. 
 
 Among the throng, the mill-owner's son, who had driven up from 
 Alderbank in his dashing turnout, to have one more look at Lucy 
 Clarendon, before her departure, walked up with money, and name. 
 Prudence White, Patience Leving, and Charity West contributed 
 their mites for the general enlightenment The collections and 
 subscriptions were extensive. Under the auspices of their Southern 
 visitor and the clergy, the " nigger question " was to be prayerfully, 
 and scientifically solved. 
 
 The benediction closed the interesting exercises at a late hour. 
 In the orange glow of a winter sunset, the numerous sleighs wound 
 away from the green door, over hill, and out of sight, in a long 
 procession. For this procession, awaited a welcome, a feast, a 
 revel. Esquire Buddington's feet had been placed upon the rock 
 Christ Jesus, — and this was his first social recognition of the clergy, 
 the church, and its membership. 
 
 How his spacious house twinkled among the snows, that night ! 
 It outshone the stars ! What noble fires roared on every hearth ! 
 How they crackled, and hissed ! What queer, fantastic, mocking 
 silhouettes on the walls, the flames made, of the strange figures, and 
 faces ! The long tables smoked with the fraternal hospitality of 
 the rich convent. Savory clouds floated to the upper rooms, among 
 trifling girls, and hopeful mothers. Mr. Steele remarked to Lucy, 
 that 'Squire Buddington's table matched the luxury of a Southern- 
 er's entertainment. 
 
 After supper, around the fires in various rooms, conversation 
 was sweet. When the flagons of hot flip, and quaint tumblers of 
 nutmeg spiced sling had circulated, converse grew sv/eeter still. 
 They fell to rehearsing the doings of the Lord. There was no God 
 like their God — none at all in all the lands! glorious, girding on 
 his sword, filling his quiver with arrows ! going from conquering to 
 conquer ; till He shall put all things under his feet 1 
 
l82 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Eleven o'clock was fixed for the final separation of these revival 
 laborers. No one presentwould infringe upon the Sabbath. Holy- 
 time would begin at twelve. Melting adieus closed the social fes- 
 tivities. The ghost of revival week floated away, among the spec- 
 tres of things tliat were. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 AFTER Ralph Haywood's arrival from France, he made many 
 appointments to visit Vaucluse ; but as often as March pre- 
 pared for the journey to the ancestral domain, the idle postpone- 
 ment of his master changed his hopes of an early meeting with his 
 beloved Flora, into the gloom of disappointment. At length the 
 day for the union of the two powerful houses of Haywood and 
 Mowndes having been settled, Ralph's presence at the paternal 
 plantation mansion was deemed imperative, even by its indolent 
 owner. 
 
 March took his seat on the family carriage, by the coachman, 
 with happiest anticipation. He v;ould fold his long-absent wife to 
 his breast once more — he would see her gentle eyes kindle at his 
 approach. He should hear her sw^eet words of endearment ; and 
 feel himself sufficiently rewarded for entering again voluntarily into 
 bondage. He repeated to himself the well-remembered passages 
 of her letters which had borne her faithful love across the sea. In 
 memory he saw the neat cabin as he left it long j^ears ago, — he 
 felt again her arms about his neck, and heard again her sobbing 
 farewell. A joyful welcome was to banisJi a grievous absence. 
 
 His attentions to his master were cheerful and unremitting. 
 Ralph even, roused from his lethargy, says, — 
 
 "March, boy, what's the matter ? Your voice melts on this blue 
 air ; and your black face has lost the sulkiness of a few years past. 
 Don't become an angel too soon ! I swear I should be lost 
 without the services of my slave ! " 
 
 " We are near the avenue now, master ; " he replied cheerfully. 
 
 " Near the devil ! Curse the avenue of live oaks ! It leads into 
 a trap ! The open sky, the wild woods and a pack of hounds is 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 1 83 
 
 better ! " Yet the polished carriage roof was brushed by their brood 
 ing branches, and a heavy drapery of long gray moss curtained the 
 green arch under which they slowly entered. 
 
 Up this magnificent live-oak avenue the horses walked ; the new 
 master surveyed his patrimony from the carriage windows. A 
 frown clouded his face, when he beheld everywhere the neglect 
 portrayed by his Parisian dreams. It was near sunset — one of 
 those gorgeous sunsets of Southern climes j when the very air is 
 golden. 
 
 The servants had been apprised of Ralph,s coming. Beds had 
 been aired and freshly made. Windows and doors were thrown 
 open, and the aroma of the elaborate cuisine floated out to gladden 
 the young pseudo lord. The house-servanss came out in a body, 
 led by the white-aproned butler, — the field-hands gathered on the 
 opposite side to greet their young master with profoundest bows 
 and courtesies, — to offer smiles and greetings, propitiatory to the 
 evil genius that ruled his moods and deeds ; as some bird of the air 
 bad whispered them. 
 
 " Glad ter see Massa Ralph," was humbly offered on every hand. 
 " Do all we kin for yonng massa." 
 
 March opened the carriage door with some parade, and ran his 
 eyes eagerly among the crowd. Ralph alighted, and with haughty 
 pride looked upon his vassals who stood with bared heads, bat- 
 tered hats in hand and bowing with abject homage. 
 
 "Splendid! tall! hansum! gran'! fine!" ran round the admir- 
 ing circle ; accompanied with servile bows, and courtesies, and 
 another flash of white teeth. 
 
 ^ " By George ! a good looking gang !" vouchsafed Ralph ! raising 
 his hat from his head and saluting. 
 
 " Rice and cotton should grow here ! " 
 
 " A mighty smart chance, sir ! " bowed the overseer. 
 
 " March ! " continued the new master, " deliver the tobacco to the 
 overseer. There's a ration for each, — and overseer, bring out the 
 v\^hisky ! serve them a ration all round to drink the master's health. 
 Order the dinner March, and follow me ! " 
 
 He strode into the verandah, under his own roof, and to his own 
 chamber ; better satisfied with his reception than he had dreamed. 
 
 March attended to the master's dinner toilet ; drew on his own 
 
184 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 official white gloves ; followed him down to the dining-room, and 
 waited at the back of his chair. With unusual skill, he managed 
 Ralph's distastes and relishes : thus keeping at bay the usual impe- 
 rious oath and fretful curse. 
 
 After a long sitting, with generous draughts of his father's wine, 
 which he declared had grown smoother, and more delectable dur- 
 ing his absence, he rose saying, — 
 
 " I am going to the piazza." March followed with a lounging 
 chair ; then hurried away for his accustomed cigars. A small se- 
 lection of the silver had been taken from the vaults of the bank in 
 Charleston, where it had been deposited for safety, and sent up by 
 his factors. From this, March took a waiter of the old family sil- 
 ver — placed upon it all Ralph's Parisian paraphernalia of smok- 
 ing ; and placed it upon a small table at his elbow. As he passed 
 the lighted match to his master, he heard the welcome words, — 
 
 " Go now, March — find your wife. She is modest about intrud- 
 ing upon your attention before the new master. Go, now. Come 
 back in the morning. My father's old servant will sleep on the 
 floor by me. He will attend to my wants. Go, greet your pretty 
 wife. A long absence you have had of it." 
 
 March bent low, and uttered his thanks with visible emotions of 
 gratitude and pleasure ; he turned away to seek his own packages, 
 which he had secretly placed in the coachman's box in Charleston, 
 with articles for the comfort and luxury of his master. They had 
 all come across the sea, from the gay Paris that furnished Ralph's 
 costly gifts to Gracie Mowndes. When alone, he removed a 
 wrapper. 
 
 " How this will please the little beauty," thought March, — and 
 the thought blossomed into lively smiles upon his lips, which parted 
 over his white teeth, in the anticipated joy. "How she loves blue ! 
 and this is blue silk — glossy as any other." 
 
 He unrolled it, held it to the dying sunset light 
 
 " Ah, my Flora in that dress will tempt the white bloods. But I 
 have nothing to fear. She has always been the same faithful one 
 to me. My father ! yes, my father, and Ralph's father ; my proud 
 white father gave her to me forever. He gave me to Ralph, who 
 very well knows I am his brother ; that his promise to me con- 
 cerning^ my darling wife Flora, should be kept sacred ; and that 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 185 
 
 I, his son, might gather into my narrow slave life its few stinted 
 pleasures." 
 
 He folded the Paris silk back into its envelope, lifted a pink 
 gauze dress, a white shawl, earings and necklace of imitation pearls* 
 Then his brow contracted as he held the pretty baubles in his 
 hand. Imitation, thought he, forever — imitation ! I could have 
 bought some pearls for Flora, — I had money for a few real pearls. 
 Flora deserves them ; put I dared not. The proud blue blood of 
 master's bride, Grace Mowndes, would have boiled and bubbled in 
 wrath against my little wife, that she should presume to equality 
 with her mistress. " Aha ! ha ! ha ! " in a light, melodious laugh, 
 escaped on the evening air. Flora is of blue-blood parentage. 
 That test of rank runs in her veins. I remember the time old mas- 
 ter's white wife would have him buy the mother and child from 
 Colonel Sachuse ; and how all we house-servants saw Colonel Sa- 
 chuse's face in the gay little Flora. He was her father ! " 
 
 During this soliloquy, his hands were busy unrolling, and rolling 
 again bright ribbons, embroidered handkerchiefs, and tiny gloves. 
 He took from one package a pair of blue slippers ; the accompani- 
 ment of the blue silk dress. He rested one upon each palm. 
 
 " Silver buckles. Number two. Mistress Grace must never see 
 these. Her jealous rage would trample these under her feet, with 
 the pearls. Then she would sell my wife on the auction block, as 
 heartlessly as she sold her sister Zog. Everybody knows that, in 
 Charleston. Flora shall wear these, when the mistress is away. 
 She shall wear them for my eyes to see ! and they shall not sell my 
 Flora. It was the command of the father of Ralph and me, that 
 Flora should not be sold." 
 
 He went on arranging the packages in a pretty French basket, 
 bought for her also. " She has not been to see me ; though she 
 knows I have come. She will not show herself to Ralph. Will he 
 dare to take her from me, and make her his wife ? " 
 
 An agonized thought shot through his heart like a barbed arrow. 
 "Heaven knows what he will do ! These masters take to them- 
 selves any and every one they choose I " 
 
 His white teeth ground the maddening thoughts between them ; 
 and a glittering dagger-light flashed from the calm of his hitherto 
 quiet eyes. With a basket on his arm, containing the precious 
 
1 86 WHITE MAY, AND CLACK JUNE. 
 
 gifts, he passed out west of the mansion, down, the road to the 
 quarters ; under the sweet gums, now ahnost leafless ; past the 
 shining green of magnolias, and copses of sweet bay ; into the 
 skirt of the piny woods standing darkly against the yellow evening 
 sky. Just in front of him was his own cabin, where he left his 
 chiefest treasure. He advanced rapidly to the open door. A 
 brawny black woman, a field hand, wearing her coarse, short work- 
 ing gown, bare armed, and turbaned with a scant piece of her rude 
 dress, met him at the door. Four little toddling, half-clad children 
 clung around her bare feet, to see the nice gentleman at their 
 door. 
 
 *' Where is my Flora?" questioned March sharply. 
 
 *'You' Flora .'* Dunno, mister. I ain't been raise here;" and 
 in determined reticence, she leaned her shoulder against the door- 
 post. " I bin raise in Georgy ; b'long to de massa Leshyur. He 
 die — de hul gang sell in Charleston — agent buy we — tote we up 
 here. Dunno, mister. " 
 
 " Oh ! you know more than you are going to tell, till you find 
 whether you are safe or not. Slaves never tell what they know to 
 strangers. Mv name is March. I am Flora's husband — been 
 away with your master several years. I am a slave as much as you 
 are. Tell me about Flora. Is my little, loving wife dead, or sold ? 
 Tell me ! for you know ; " and with a groan, he dropped, sobbing, 
 upon the lower step of the short flight of stairs leading up to the 
 floor. 
 
 The woman sat down upon the lower step, driving away her 
 chattering children, to play in the woods. 
 
 "You is March! I heah 'bout March. Well den, I spec de 
 same ting happen she, dat happen all we slabe. I heah March 
 wife sole, and dis room look so neat when I come, like white lady 
 room. " 
 
 The French basket rolled off the unconscious arm to the ground. 
 March bowed his head over wringing hands, and groaned. 
 
 " How long since she was here? " he asked huskily. " Give me 
 a drink of water ! " 
 
 "Plant rice tree time sence I'se come ; an' I nebber seen her ! " 
 replied the woman, with the callousness of despair for herself, and 
 all in her condition. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 187 
 
 " Is old Prudy here yet ? " 
 
 "Ole Prudy? yes; Prudy here; she tell me 'bout Flora; she 
 know ; Prudy tell youse all. Go see Prudy ; lib right ober dare." 
 
 March took up the basket, and turned from Flora's cabin, with- 
 out a look within. The moon sailed brightly among the tops of 
 the pines. 
 
 " Just as it used to look when Flora and I walked here. My 
 heart must break ; and I've a heart as tender as Ralph's. My 
 Savior ! had he a hand in this?" He dropped upon the steps of 
 the cabin he sought, and called, Prudy. 
 
 "Who dat?" returned a broken voice within. "Who voice be 
 dat ? " She shuffled to the door. 
 
 " I am March, Prudy. Tell me where is my Flora. 
 
 '*Lor a me, March, — dat you? Didn' Marse Ralph tell ye Flora 
 done sole ? " 
 
 " No, no Prudy ; he dont know it himself. He sent me down to 
 see her." 
 
 She reached over, took him by the arm and said in a low pity- 
 ing tone, — 
 
 " Come in, shet de doo', got lightwood fire." She drew him in, 
 to repeat the story safely — for Flora had told her all. 
 
 " Take dis same chair ole marse will, to Prudy." 
 
 She brightened the flame by another piece of lightwood, and sat 
 down on the bottom of a broken piggin herself. 
 
 " Now Prudy speak soft. You listen. Shutters all tight. Look 
 heah. Hush weepin'. Weepin' wont bring nobody back. Hush ! 
 Young marse know ebry bit 'bout dis. He sen you down heah 
 pu'pose. Dese debbel marsers. Dey sell ebry body; wife, chil- 
 der an* dere own childer ; deii look white like angels. Marse Ralph 
 lub Flora hisself — vvant her for he wife. He mad an' sell her. 
 March, youse fool. W^hat for you come back from France ? What 
 for you be slabe gin ? " 
 
 " I was willing to be a slave forever with Flora ; and master gave 
 me a letter from her the very week we left Paris." groaned March. 
 "In this letter she said she waited for me, and begged me to 
 hasten back to her faithful love." 
 
 " Dat very debbel Ralph write de letters hisself, to bring you 
 back to Carliny. She sole the nex' year you went way to France. 
 
l88 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 She wait for you de oder side, where Jurdan roll. Marse Ralph 
 tell ye 'bout Flora fait'ful lub. No slabe woman ken hab fait'tul 
 lub. She hab one husban' she lub. Marse come long, take her 
 'way — sell de husban' or someting — den make her take nudder 
 husban'. De white men's got no fait'ful lub ; an' dey wont let no 
 somebody else hab fait'ful lub." 
 
 " Did this overseer sell my Flora?" sobbed March. 
 
 " No, de oberseer dat youse know, sell her — obcose. Marse 
 Ralph give de order — an' after dat he ship oberseer hisself — so 
 he neber tell. Flora tell me dat same oberseer try to make her 
 him wife. He whip her, shet her up. Flora say she die fust ; den 
 he gib it up." 
 
 '• How did they take her away, Prudy t Were they cruel to her ? " 
 
 " No matter 'bout dat, Match, she gone ; dat nuff." 
 
 " Prudy ! " he gasped, " tell me the whole — I must know ! Did 
 they put handcuffs on her tender wrists .?" 
 
 " What make you ask ? " she hesitated " True March, dey 
 did. She cry an' struggle — say dont do dat — I'll go myself. 
 But de oberseer wid de debbel's face say, * put 'em on.' Den I see 
 de iron red wid her blood. Hush March. Somebody heah. Gib 
 it up to de good Lord. Dat young marse Ralph cut you heart out. 
 he fin' you blood. Take care." 
 
 " Prudy, do you call the Lord good, when He has the power and 
 don't stop these things .^ " 
 
 "I spects Him good. I spects Him come down heah, and walk 
 'bout dese plantation sometime. I spects Him comin'." 
 
 "Which way did they take Flora to the boat ? " 
 
 " Down de av'nue youse come up, under the libe-oak. Now heah 
 de message. Prudy keep ebry word for you." 
 
 " One night, after de fust fowl crow, Flora come to me in dat ole 
 bed dare, she kneel down and say. 'Prudy, listen. If dey kill me 
 or sell me 'way, tell my dear March I lub him allers. Tell him .1 
 nebber no man wife but him. My heart is brake. Oberseer say I 
 go fur as win' an' water can carry me. Tell March I leave my 
 kisses in de air in dese piny wood for him. March an' me will 
 nebber meet again, till we go up to de Trone ob God,' Den she 
 cry and faint 'way. Hush March. Dont 'venge on marse. Gib 
 it up to de Lord." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. iSg 
 
 Suppressed anguish, and falling tears were her only reply. At 
 length he spoke, — 
 
 "Prudy, will you go to the gardener and bring me a spade? I 
 will return it to you before break of day." 
 
 " What for you want spade ?" she quickly asked. 
 
 " To bury my wrongs, and revenge, Prudy." 
 
 " Den I bring it." 
 
 When she returned and gave it into his hand, she said, — 
 
 "Go March, down to the old palmetto tree, where you an' Flora 
 use to pull de yeller jessmine. Flora pray for you dere de las' 
 time. Go down dere. De Lord waits for youse dere, de Lord wid 
 de shinin' robe." She closed the door after him. In the flooding 
 moonlight, with the French basket and spade, he staggered over 
 the rough cotton field, under live oaks, past magnolias and clumps 
 of laurel, through a fallow field waist-deep with withered grass, 
 into the shadowy woods to the old palmetto, spreading out its huge 
 fringed fans, aud hiding its ugliness in the burrowed graces of a 
 luxuriant vine. The spirit of death seemed to have preceded him, 
 even here. 
 
 " Desolate, like me ! " murmured March. He sat upon the 
 same fallen log where Flora had so often rested, while he pulled 
 the fragrant yellow flowers for her expectant hands. He threw 
 himself upon the dried grass, and made a rapid retrospect of his 
 past life. He lived over again its rare passages of sweetness, and 
 came back to the bitter present. He arose with suppressed 
 groans ; took the spade, and carefully raising the brown grass turf, 
 dug underneath a small, deep grave ; within, he placed the basket, 
 containing all the beautiful foreign gifts to his beloved Flora. 
 The dresses, the pearls, the ribbons, the tiny slippers, and the em- 
 broideries. Over this he knelt, and dropped above them his 
 streaming tears, and a prayer to be kept from executing the wild 
 promptings of revenge, which seemed to rend his soul asunder. 
 His weak, trembling hands threw back the earth, replaced the turf, 
 and carefully added to the ground an undisturbed aspect j yet, for- 
 ever marked to his own eye. 
 
 As he rose from his labor, empty-handed and broken-hearted, 
 the song of a mocking bird poured forth from the topmost sprig of 
 the jasmine, in the old palmetto. " Perhaps God has spoken to m.e 
 
190 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 thus," thought March j " or, is it the spirit of my lost Flora? It has 
 flown. Farewell to all I love, or hope for on earth." He turned 
 away with the spade, passed through the shadows of familiar trees, 
 across the fields to Prudy's door. She was still hovering over the 
 fire. She offered March an old blanket to spread upon the floor 
 till morning. 
 
 "I cannot sleep. Let me rest awhile in this chair ; " into which 
 he s^nk in a state of exhausted despair. Prudy resumed her pig- 
 gin, and lighted her clay pipe. Laying on more lightwood, she 
 turned to memories of Flora, and related her grief and loneliness, 
 after March left America ; told how the dear girl mourned over 
 the cruelties of bondage, where all that was allowed the poor slave 
 in common with the free, was the tender upspringing of human . 
 attachment, but that as soon as it put forth its vitality in tender 
 growth, the owner of the being cut it down with the same noncha- 
 lance he would reap the rice-field. 
 
 Relapsing into silence for aw^hile, the old woman rose to her feet 
 with an exclamatory, — 
 
 " Lor a me ! I done forgot." She went to her box, answering 
 for a trunk, and took therefrom a small paper box, securely tied by 
 a fragment of blue ribbon. She returned to the piggin, saying in 
 a consolitary voice, " Dare, March, open dat. Flora left it for 
 youse." 
 
 He raised the box to his lips, and poured forth tears over it; 
 loosed the knot his wife's own fingers had tied, and found within 
 two of her long, black, silky curls. He lifted them. Ring after 
 ring dropped down in their native twining grace, which could not 
 be surpassed. Both looked at them without words ; but the cabin 
 was filled with low, heart-rending moans. 
 
 Prudy laid down her pipe, and quietly took the curls from INIarch, 
 replaced them in the box, wound the blue ribbon about it, drew up 
 a coarse bench by him, and set it there. It was near morning. 
 
 " I must go, Prudy, to dress that man ; that master ; that brother 
 of mine by the same father ! that murderer of my darling wife ! 
 that lying villain ! that deliberate assassin ! Prudy, pray for me, 
 lest I plunge his own bowie knife to its true home, and warm it in 
 his life's blood." 
 
 "J'rudy pray now. Kneel down heah, March, with Prudy." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. I91 
 
 "No, I can't pray. The good Lord offered me freedom and 
 manhood once in glorious France ; but I threw the great offer in 
 His face, and came back to these plains and swamps, fouler with 
 murderous deeds than with their deathly miasma. I came back to 
 these chains, whips and miseries." 
 •'Pray, March. De Lord heah." 
 
 " Prudy, how can I pray .'' He may hear you ; not me." 
 " Pray, March," she repeated. " Kneel on de blanket, an' take 
 dem blessed curl in youse han'." She pulled at his coat. "Pray 
 March! kneel down! You's got de blue blood, in ye! Kneel, 
 March! you's got de debble blue blood! You's half old marse I 
 You han' kin hole de dagger, like him. You han' kin fire de pis- 
 tol, an' take de aim like him. 'Member, yon half old marse! 
 Kneel, boy, kneel ! " 
 
 He did kneel in view of his danger. Old Prudy raised both her 
 bony hands. 
 
 "Will degood Lord heah? Will de bressed Sabior listen to Him 
 chile.-* See ! him bow down ! Him ask him Fader in Heaben to 
 sabe him from vengin' him belubed wife, sole 'way. Him be de 
 Lord's chile. Him ask to hab him own strong fiery right han' hold 
 in de holler ob de Heabenly Fader han', so dat he do no murder. 
 Bressed Sabior ! walk close by de side ob dis poor boy, troo de 
 gret darkness ob him sorrow. Put dy pure white arm roun' him, 
 an' walk wid him. Den, oh my Sabior ! he will lib to praise Dy 
 holy name." 
 
 An agonized groan, and the dropping of her uplifted palms, 
 closed the prayer. 
 
 March, touched by the pathos, trust and prophetic fear of his old 
 friend, grew softened. A strong peace stole over his thoughts, 
 Prudy laid her hand on his arm at the door. 
 
 " Will ye strike now, boy ? " she whispered. " Promise afore 
 youse go." 
 " No, Prudy." 
 
 " Will ye Jlre de pistol hehirC de sweet hay hush 1 Promise afore 
 youse go." 
 
 " No, Prud3\ I'll be an obedient slave." 
 
 When March entered his master's room, he found him still in 
 bed. He called out, — 
 
192 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " Halloo, March ! so early ? Was Flora glad to see you ? " 
 
 Contrary to the custom of slaves, he gazed steadily into the face 
 of Ralph ; and saw there the sly demon of triumph, leap to his 
 accursed eyes. Had he obeyed the impulses of his nature, he 
 would at once have sprung forward to the bedside and throttled the 
 questioner, till he had acknowledged his crime and begged his 
 mercy. Old Prudy's prayer still sounded in his ear; and he 
 answered respectfully, — 
 
 " I have not seen her, sir." 
 
 " Why not, boy ? " 
 
 " She was sold, sir, years ago." 
 
 "That must have been a cruel mistake of somebody's, by Jupi- 
 ter ! When was she sold ? Dress me. How is Greylock ? Have 
 you looked into the stables this morning ? " 
 
 '• Greylock is well, sir." 
 
 " Wait the dressing. Go down and order old Job, the hunter, to 
 get dogs and horses ready for an early chase. Order the butler to 
 lay an early breakfast. You appear deucedly heavy-eyed ; better 
 get a livelier spirit into your feet, boy." 
 
 March gave the orders with a ready obedience, — dressed his 
 master quickly in his hunting suit, and waited at the back of his 
 chair with his usual docility. He had the care of his master's pis- 
 tols and guns ; and in the hunt rode after him, "How easy a mat- 
 ter," said he to himself " would it be for me to pull a trigger with 
 another aim, when others are firing at the deer, and the horses are 
 running." Yet he mounted and rode away unarmed. 
 
 At night, old Job brought back a trophy of the day's chase, in 
 the shape of a fine antlered buck. On the return of the master, he 
 met the force of carpenters and painters ordered at Charleston. 
 Festivities and gay revels with the neighboring gentry were in 
 order. Field-hands and house-servants met young marse with 
 bows, courtesies and flattering praises. Gentlemen, whose families 
 boasted the purest blood in the Union, hovered around Ralph ; ate 
 boisterous dinners, drank his father's wine, toasted him hilariously, 
 toasted each other, toasted Calhoun and his hobbies, toasted their 
 royal State and its royal power. This was repeated at the neigh- 
 boring plantations, where the new master was made to feel his im- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 1 93 
 
 portance on the roll of interpreters and supporters of the Federal 
 Constitution. 
 
 March hid his sorrows and festering wrongs, as best he might, — 
 abating not a whit of the subserviency due to his brother, — yet his 
 manner was grave, thoughtful and patient. This carriage was not 
 pleasing to Mr. Haywood. There must be no " Death's Heads " 
 about his board ; no hidden skeletons to mar his rosy dreams. He 
 said one day to March, — 
 
 " Here you Saturnine gloom I Take a word of warning ; put away 
 your blue devils or I will offer my assistance. Sunlight, gayety and 
 the graces must be the attendants of my approaching nuptials." 
 
 At length the paternal mansion of the new proprietor was reju- 
 venated. The ample piazzas of two stories, and its tall white 
 chimnies among the oaks and magnolias and leafless sycamores 
 vied with its vicinal houses. Rose bowers, trellises and grape- 
 arbors rose on every side. The oval flower garden, for the pleas- 
 ure of its future mistress, was guarded from vulgar feet by a low, 
 vvhite, scolloped lace-work fence. The gardener's work in pruning, 
 transplanting and laying out the grounds, went on with the work of 
 the builders. 
 
 Ralph returned to the city and took with him his father's serv- 
 ing man. This occasioned no surprise to March j as he knew the 
 few wrecks following were to be occupied with busy preparations for 
 his master's marriage. In Charleston, March was daily dispatched 
 with notes to Ralph's agents, to Grace Mowndes, to the furnitura 
 dealers, and on a multiude of other errands. 
 
 Charlotte, Ralph's chambermaid, bought for his house before his 
 arrival from France, and oE whom we have before spoken, was also 
 busy with the new furniture of the rooms ; and had more occasion 
 to mingle with the other house servants, — yet they all remarked 
 her well-preserved dignity of demeanor; and that she artfully 
 avoided familiarity with any. She glided over the house as if she 
 were the mistress. 
 
 " Marse put dat in Lotty head," whispered Prince Andrew to 
 Jane, the washer-woman. " She no better'n me. I kiss heaps gals 
 han'some as she ; but I no kiss her." 
 
 " Old men like you no business kissin' the girls. You is a old 
 goose, Andrew." 
 
194 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Prince Andrew shrugged his shoulders, chuckled in his fat throat 
 and said pompously, — 
 
 •']\Iuss do what de white mens do, Mistress Jane." 
 
 " Mistress Jane says old men are silly things, white or colored," 
 was the curt reply ; and he walked off with his towel and waiter. 
 
 " Oh ! my ears ! " cried Dick, running into the kitchen. 
 
 " Wha's matter.? " asked the cook. 
 
 " Queen Charlotte cuff 'em, cause I tried to sport wid she ! Marse 
 needn't git marry ober agin ! " 
 
 One day when Ralph was yielding full rein to his Southern tem- 
 per, he gave several orders to March ; among them a note to the 
 workhouse, for which he was to wait an answer. He was to attend 
 to this note last. 
 
 March ran down the marble steps, crossed the long walk, and 
 closed the iron gate after him with unqualified pleasure. It was 
 one of those bright days, when Charleston seemed to swim in a 
 transparent haze ; like the moss in a milky blue agate stone. He 
 was glad to escape from the irritation at the house ; and felt his 
 burdens lightened by the beauty around him. 
 
 A note to Ralph's factors took him down East Bay street. His 
 eye was attracted by the masts and spars of the ships, at their 
 moorings. 
 
 He leaned against an awning post, and reflected. 
 
 "There went the little feet of my Flora, on her journey of Death ! 
 There she staggered up the gangway of the New Orleans vessel, 
 with her bleeding wrists in the gnawing hand-cuffs ; her tangled 
 silken curls in disorder ; and her dear eyes heavy with weeping. 
 Down that misty harbor she was borne, heart-breaking, and filled 
 with despair. " 
 
 The beautiful morning became dim ; the very sun in the heavens 
 eclipsed. Intense anguish still wrought upon his features when he 
 arrived at Magazine street; but he presented the note to the gate- 
 keeper at the workhouse. After some delay, an attendant returned 
 to the gate, saying, — 
 
 " Come this way, to the master. " 
 
 March followed, and found him.self entering the whipping-room. 
 He had no fear; but removed his hat, and offered the usual salu- 
 tation. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 1 95 
 
 '* Come in," said the master ; " and close the door. " He did 
 so. 
 
 " Take off your coat and vest. " 
 
 " I ? sir ! " exclaimed March, with horror. 
 
 " Yes ! to be sure, you ! yourself ! Take off your coat and vest ; 
 and strip your shirt from your shoulders ! " 
 
 "For what, sir.?" demanded March ; drawing back to the door. 
 
 " You know well why clothing is removed in this room ! you 
 feigning hypocrite ! Off with them ! " 
 
 " I will not be whipped, sir. " 
 
 A coarse, derisive laugh echoed through the empty room. 
 
 " Sunday," he said to the whipper, a tall, stalwart black, with 
 sleeves rolled to his elbows, and spattered with fresh blood, " Sun- 
 day, call the assistants, Dan and Bill. " 
 
 At the same time, he drew a pistol from his pocket, and cocked 
 it deliberately, saying, — 
 
 " Move, and you are a dead man ! " 
 
 Leaving things in this attitude, let us survey this room, in which 
 the creeds, sermons, and prayers of Charleston culminated. 
 
 As its type cannot be found in ]\Ioses, or its plan in the Evan- 
 gelists, it must rationally be conjectured that its arrangements for 
 torturing the images of God were a later sublimation of a more 
 delicate philanthropy than Moses or Christ possessed. 
 
 The room was large enough to allow space and footing for the 
 fearful resistance which might be made to this mode of moral sua- 
 sion. Its walls were bare, whitewashed, and bespattered with 
 human blood. In the centre of the room, a post, planted in the 
 floor, reached the ceiling. At its top was a pulley for drawing up 
 the arms of the victims; the wrists being previously tied together. 
 At the foot of the post were rings for the confinement of the feet. 
 Around the room hung whips of various inventions ; the long black 
 snake, the shorter cat-o'-ninetails, with multiplied lashes, and 
 whips with wire braided into the ends of the lash. There were 
 also long, flat, wooden instruments, called paddles, bored with 
 holes ; so that the human flesh under its blows, was puft'ed into 
 bruised and bloody blisters, healing slowly. A dirty cap made 
 from carpet, such as hangmen use, hung beside these whips. 
 
 The floor, which was frequently washed of its gore, and sanded, 
 
196 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 r 
 
 had been recently drenched, and the sand was wet upon it, but a 
 whipping had just been consummated, and a drip of blood diago- 
 nally across it marked the exit of the punished one from the pul- 
 lev to the door ; thence to the pump in the yard, whence a crimson 
 rivulet ran into the street gutter, and along the thoroughfare. 
 
 Dan and Bill entered, grim and hatless, with Sunday. 
 
 " Take off your coat ! " again reiterated the master. " Dare you 
 resist the law, and the officers of the law.? " 
 
 March, standing firm, replied, — 
 
 " I have committed no crime, sir! I will not be whipped with- 
 out resistance ! " 
 
 '• Strip him, boys ! Tear off his shirt ! Can't waste time in this 
 way. There's three more waiting to be served ! " 
 
 " Stand off ! " said March, bracing for defence. " I'll die first ! " 
 
 " Give up easy ! " said Sunday. " Mus' come to dat pos'. " 
 
 In a second, Dan lay his length one way, and Bill reeled another. 
 Sunday came up with them next time, and the whole four went 
 down to the sandy floor. 
 
 It was a happy thought on the part of the Southerners, to em- 
 ploy slaves to do the accursed business, that they might receive 
 the blows of resistance which were dealt upon the officials, — for 
 the law being death to the slave who dared to raise his hand against 
 a white man, the master would have been subject to many losses of 
 valuable property. So in the case of March ; he would have found 
 his death before his captors dragged him, tied feet and hands, to 
 the pulley at the post. 
 
 After the second repulse, the three in the attack overpowered 
 March by wariness and iron-muscled force. His clothes were torn 
 off, his back and shoulders stripped bare, and the rope of the 
 pulley was attached to his wrists. Away they pulled ; every turn 
 of the wheel yielding a demoniac scream at the dead weight it was 
 lifting ; for ]\Iarch, in the struggle, had received a blow on the 
 head, causing teirjporary insensibility. The dirty carpet cap was 
 drawn ever his head and face, to hide the terrible agony of the 
 human lineaments, while undergoing torture. His feet were se- 
 cured to the ring and staple at the floor. 
 
 Sunday took down a heavy whip, rolled his sleeves afresh, snd 
 stood off, to give the lash a proper purchase. Hissing in the air 
 
MARt'H AT THE WOELtROUSE. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND ELACK JUNE. igy 
 
 like a serpent, it stung across the bare back and shoulders of 
 March, ehcting a sharp, responding groan. Sunday rested, as was 
 the custom, for this branch of slavery was reduced to an art • 
 therefore Sunday stood holding the heavy whip lax in his ri-ht 
 hand, while the lash trailed upon the floor. "" 
 
 ''Tame him, Sunday! Tame the infernal devil! That's hi • 
 master's orders ! Mind what I say, Sunday, or you'll be hauled up 
 there yourself! Try it again, and stop between strokes. That 
 vyas a good one ! That's the right kind of a welt across his shoul- 
 ders ! 
 
 Sunday gathered up the whip, and stood back again With 
 another hiss, it cut across the welt of the first stroke ; like the ser- 
 pent's fangs, It bit out a strip of flesh, and the blood trickled to the 
 noor. 
 
 " My God ! ejaculated March. 
 
 "Thats it, Sunday!" grinned the workhouse master. "That's 
 the talk!" and he promenaded up and down the damp, sanded 
 lioor, whiffing his cigar with a surly nonchalance. 
 
 Sunday took breath, and trailed the lash again. Thus the 
 bloody work went on, till Sunday's sleeves were spattered with 
 ensangmned stains ; till March's life blood dripped from the o-ory 
 lash ; till a red pool lay curdling around the ring and staple confin- 
 ing his feet. ^ 
 
 "Take him down ! " ordered the master. "Can't exceed the law' 
 He 11 do ! " 
 
 The pulley loosed, turned backwards, and uttered a^^ain its re- 
 volting shriek. March's feet were unfastened, and th'e cap was 
 drawn from his face. Dizzy and faint, he sank down at the foot of 
 the post. 
 
 '' Call the constable with his buggy, to take him to his master 
 and come back and put on his clothes." ' 
 
 They drew on his tattered garments, without resistance on his 
 part, and bade him go. 
 
 March reeled out, half crazed, and was helped into the buggy. 
 At Ralph's mansion, the new coachman met him at the side 
 gate, and in pitying tones delivered the orders. 
 
 _ "Master Haywood says you must go up into my room over the 
 kitchen. I will go with you." 
 
198 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Once there, the coachman whispered, — 
 
 *' Bear up, March, I will take care of you. We can't help our- 
 selves. May be my turn next ! Nobody knows ! " 
 
 He laid him upon his coarse bed, and drew from a hidden cor- 
 ner a bottle of his master's wine. 
 
 "Drink this glass full, and drink it every day. I'll steal it every 
 day for you ; and what I don't get, Prince Andrew will, and so will 
 Dick. All our hearts are breaking for you, March. But we shall 
 have to dance and sing all the more, for this devil's work ; or we 
 shall be strung up to the workhouse ourselves. Now, March, when 
 you hear us laugh and sing below, and about the yard, 'member 
 our hearts are bruised for you. Don't lay it up against us." 
 
 He disposed March upon his face, and covered his gashed, 
 bleeding back with soft linen pieces, ointed with healing salve ; 
 gave him more wine, spread blankets lightly over him, and went to 
 the stables. 
 
 The nuptial day was fast approaching. Ralph Haywood had 
 just received the last touch to his dignity as a Southerner — the 
 substitution for the dubbing of the ancient knight. 
 
 A mounted club had been formed. Several ancient and honor- 
 able companies were dismembered, that the choicest flowers of 
 chivalry might fill the command proffered to Carolina's brilliant 
 son ; and that they might complete their martial career, under so 
 distinguished a leader. Thus he accepted the accolade of Colonel 
 of the Feudal Battleaxe Battalion. 
 
 It will be appropriate hereafter, to think and speak of him offi- 
 cially, as the gallant Colonel Haywood, and in ordinary life, to 
 drop the boyish Ralph, and meaningless mister; never forgetting 
 that Colonel Haywood is the synonym for daring bravery, fearless 
 patriotism, strict constructionism, inviolable hate, gentle affection, 
 crystalized cruelty, knightly grace. State rights fidelity, pious syco- 
 phancy, blue- blood debauchery, popular integrity, and private 
 artifice. 
 
 Two tasks yet remained to be accomplished, before he should 
 bend his gracious ear to listen to the music of Grace's marriage 
 vow. One of these he set about in the morning hours, after a mid- 
 night revelry at the armory of the " Feudal Battleaxe Battalion." 
 
 Dick, the coachman, and his father's waiting-man, now acting in 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. igo 
 
 I\farch's stead, were awake to do his bidding, for they had attended 
 him at the military rendezvous. When the coachman drew rein at 
 the iron gate for the colonel to alight, he heard the order, — 
 
 "Build a fire in the kitchen, and await me there, with Dick." 
 
 "What de debble dat for.?" said Dick to the coachman in the 
 barn. "What he want now ? Had high livin' to-night, and 'feast 
 er flow ! ' drown out in brandy and wines ! What wese got to do? 
 roas' turkey 'fore mornin' ? " 
 
 " Hush ! " answered the coachman. " Keep your tongue silent ! 
 You'll be the death of us all, yet." 
 
 At three o'clock a knocking was heard at the carriage gate. 
 Dick hurried down the dark driveway, and let in two stalwart 
 black men. 
 
 " What yous come fur .? " asked Dick. 
 "Dunno. 'Bey orders," was the brief reply. 
 
 "Go in de kitchen ; dere's good fire," said Dick ; and ran up to 
 report. 
 
 Colonel Haywood followed Dick to the kitchen, and thus ac- 
 costed the blacks, — 
 
 " So you're here, boys .? Very well. Put that iron into the fire. 
 Rake open the coals, so it will heat hotter than h— 11 ! " 
 
 He paced the floor impatiently, till it was nearly red hot. He 
 turned to Dick, who cowered by the door, awaiting his pleasure. 
 
 "Call the coachman." 
 
 He joined the others. 
 
 "Now, boys," said the colonel, "my nigger March is to be 
 branded. It's to be done on his right arm, below the elbow. 
 There ! you three are to hold him in the bed, while I apply the 
 iron. Do as I bid, or I've something in this pocket for you." 
 
 He drew a heavy pistol, saying — 
 
 " Do you hear ? " 
 
 1^' Wese heah massa ; we 'bey," answered the deep voice of Dave. 
 Give me the iron, Dave, " ordered the colonel. " Take the 
 light, coachman, and move on. I follow." 
 
 The nights of March, since the whipping at the workhouse, had 
 been harassed with pain and wakefulness ; and although his back 
 and shoulders, cauterized by the lash, were in their tenderest and 
 most sensitive condition, nature demanded sleep. He therefore 
 
200 WHITE MAY, AND ELACK JUNE. 
 
 slept the heavy Lethean sleep of exhaustion. He heard not the 
 subtle steps of the four men — saw not the candlelight. He 
 dreamed that chains fettered his limbs — that handcutis bound his 
 wrists. He made a half-conscious struggle to free himself from their 
 hateful pressure ; and awoUe in the steel-like grasp of men stand- 
 ing over him. He was as fast as if clasped in a vise. 
 
 In a second, the hot branding iron was seething and burning into 
 the flesh of his right arm. A piercing scream rang out, which 
 would have made the blood curdle in a human heart. But the ears 
 of Charlestonians were accustomed to these shrieks, — the atmos- 
 phere was rife with them, as with the insects' hum. So none 
 heeded. Dave, Bill and the coachman, kept a cowed, stolid si- 
 lence. The room was filled with the smoke of charred flesh. 
 
 " Cut my throat at once, and have done ! " cried March. '•' Do 
 not murder me bv inches ! " 
 
 The master removed the brandinsr-iron from his brother's arm. 
 
 "There, curse you ! You're labelled nov/. That ' Col. R. H.,' 
 won't wash out in a day ! Wnen you forget your owner, turn up 
 your sleeve and refresh your memory. There's your French free- 
 dom ! There's France! Cut your throat? No, can't afford to 
 waste two thousand dollars. Take care of yourself. Remember, 
 you are part of my estate. Your whipping was ordered to cast out 
 the infernal spirit of gloom that hangs around you like night. It 
 was to give you a shorter face ; and for putting on airs of mourn- 
 ing for a wench you presumed to call your wife. Getting white a 
 few paces too fast.'' 
 
 Two days before the marriage of the young planter of Vaucluse, 
 he came earlier to dinner than was his custom. He passed 
 throuo:h the hall where Dick was stationed and bade him answer all 
 calls with "Not in." "Admit a person at that door, boy, and 
 you'll feel the raw-hide." He strode up to his chamber, sat down 
 to smoke and revolve events. 
 
 This last ante-nuptial arrangement should be accomplished to- 
 night ; and although a host of lackeys and factors awaited his word, 
 onl}-, this last and pleasant design must be executed personally. 
 
 " March has his quietus. He'll not madden me more by his 
 eternally solemn face of mock despair. I've given him something 
 for resignation now. D — n him ! he's mine ; mine by the Decla- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 201 
 
 ration of Independence ; mine by the guaranty of the Constitution ; 
 mine by the example of the patriarchs ; mine by the laws of Chris- 
 tianity ; as much mine as are the horses in the stable; and the 
 deer on my plains. Let him talk more of France and freedom if 
 he dare ! Let a branded slave try escape. My name — the name 
 of his owner, Col. K. H., will be the swift witness that shall return 
 him to me. 
 
 "I must see Charlotte this evenins: and settle affairs for her and 
 myself. She's the soft silver light that gilds this marriage of mine. 
 Her dark, dreamy, liquid eyes melt into my fiery soul and calm its 
 restless depths. Her placid, submissive manner puts to sleep the 
 tiger within me. Her slow, swan-like movement about me, is 
 poetry itself. With Solomon I say, ' Her teeth are like a flock of 
 sheep that are even shorn ; her lips are like a thread of scarlet, and 
 her speech is comely ; her temples are like a piece of pome- 
 granate.' 
 
 " ' She walks in beauty, like the night 
 Of cloudless climes and starry skies ; 
 
 And all that's best of dark and bright 
 Meets in her aspect and her eyes ; 
 
 Thus, mellowed to that tender light, 
 Which Heaven to gaudy day denies,' 
 
 " By Jupiter ! Byron had a soul for the lovely and the beautiful. 
 With Charlotte, life is romance. Her shy, timid love for me is 
 more fascinating than the coquettish charms of Flora. Flora ! 
 Well, I am avenged. 
 
 "Grace adores me; yet her love is tiresome, — like the over- 
 powering fragrance of giant magnolia bloom ; it sickens every 
 sense. £/i, hien^ Gracie and her dower will be mine, de jure. Sat- 
 isfactory, surely ; for the law of South Carolina, having once joined 
 us, yields a right of divorce to death, alone. Charlotte is mine de 
 facto. What union is stronger ? " • 
 
 He directed his waiting-man to call Charlotte, and then to take 
 a recess from attendance, and go to the kitchen. 
 
 "Bid her dress," he added. 
 
 A half hour elapsed before Charlotte answered the summons in 
 person. The colonel went on reflecting. 
 
 •' This brown girl answers the demands of my nature. What has 
 
202 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 woman to do with the fierce impulses and ambitions of men ? Why 
 attempt to place her feeble strength and weak intellect, as irrita- 
 ting obstacles, in the way his will directs ? Charlotte will not in- 
 terfere : always confiding, gentle and compliant, she seeks to foster 
 the tenderest element of my nature, — my constant love. That she 
 has affection for me as strong as Gracie, I cannot doubt ; and in 
 her fidelity to me alone, I trust. There will be no bickerings con- 
 cerning rank and possessions between us. Without questioning, 
 without suspicion, without the look of a d — d drooping lily, she 
 will ever throw her arms about my neck, with the same welcome 
 after absence. She cannot read ; and she needs to read nothing 
 but my moods. Par consequence^ she will not prate about literature. 
 I shall have enough of that trash in another direction. The litera- 
 ture of Haynes and the Constitution is all that yields me one iota 
 of interest. 
 
 " I shall be all right ; for Grace believes iii the immaculate purity 
 of ma7i — in their perennial constancy to the de jure wife. Her 
 observations, restrained with angelic propriety to her father's ele- 
 gant parlors — to her own boudoir and her mirror, have convinced 
 her of this. La, me, how celestial ! I believe Grace is either an 
 idiot, or her vaulting pride overleaps acknowledgment of sun- 
 lighted truths." 
 
 A step was heard, 
 
 " She is coming! " he said rapturously. 
 
 Charlotte entered, closed the door, and stood without advancing, 
 as was the custom of slaves. The colonel rose to look at her. 
 She was dressed with elegance and taste, — her drooping lids and 
 long silken lashes veiled her eyes and rendered her coyness doubly 
 irresistable. 
 
 " Come, Queen of my soul ! " he cried, seating himself. 
 
 Slowly she advanced to his side, slid one arm about his neck, 
 and bent her lips to his forehead. The reply to her caress was 
 kisses upon her brown cheeks. 
 
 " Sit by me, Charlotte ; I have something to tell you. " 
 
 She complied ; and in her bounding pulses, she felt his silent, 
 idolatrous regard, but saw it not beneath her drooping lids. 
 
 " Do you know I am to be married .? '" 
 
 Without a cloud upon her face, she replied, — 
 
A -Mix!:d love affair. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 203 
 
 " I knew of the marriage, but not the day. " 
 
 "It comes off the day after to-morrow, and this is my last happy 
 evening in this honse with you, Charlotte. Don't tremble so! 
 This marriage is ex-more, according to custom. You have the 
 keeping of my heart, and will continue to be its keeper, as long as 
 you are faithful to me alone. " 
 
 He cast his arm about her shoulder, looking into her dark eyes. 
 
 "What am I to expect.?" 
 
 " My faithful love to the last, master ! " 
 
 " And in spite of the calm, sweet smile overshadowing her brown 
 face, tears welled up to her spirit's brim, and plashed down upon 
 her face. 
 
 He took the delicate handkerchief from her lap, and holding it to 
 her eyes, said, — 
 
 " Hush ! No more tears ! My factors have secured a house for 
 your occupation, on the street by the river. They have sent furni- 
 ture at my order. I have been round to inspect it, to-day. You will 
 live like a lady, as you are, and I shall see you there, without let 
 or hindrance. It is but a few steps from here ; and when I am in 
 the city, my servant will market for you at the same time he mar- 
 kets for this family. We shall pass the remaining winter at Vau- 
 cluse, on the plantation. I want you there. I shall send down to 
 my factors for a seamstress. They will send you up, Charlotte. 
 Can you make yourself look ugly, to please me .? " 
 
 The girl raised his hand to her lips, and uttering a silvery laugh, 
 replied, — 
 
 " I will do all you require ! " 
 
 "Then you must conceal that bewitching hair under a turban. 
 You must leave at your home in River street, most of your charm- 
 ing robes, laces, and jewelry. You must wear plain," untrimmed 
 clothes; and you must profess to belong to my factors, who will 
 hire you to Mrs. Grace Mowndes. " 
 
 "_ Of course, I shall do all you direct ; but you will tire of the 
 plain, ugly-dressed seamstress, will you not ? And then the world 
 will be dark to me. " 
 
 " Tire of you, Charlotte > Try me, and see ! You must treat me 
 with perfect indifference, in the presence of others, and you must 
 expect my gallant attentions will be tendered to Mrs. Mowndes. 
 
204 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 But there will be times when you will learn that a plain turban can 
 outvie the richest bonnet and plumes. To prove my sincerity, I 
 propose that we pass this night in your house, that you gather your 
 wardrobe together, in one of my trunks, and that my servant and 
 the coachman take it round at nine o'clock. I will go first, to 
 point the house to you. You will await me at the next corner, and 
 follow. Afterwards you will go with the boys, to direct them, and 
 remain. I shall soon join you there. " 
 
 " Shall I go now, dear colonel ? " she asked 
 
 " It is of no consequence how soon ; for 1 shall join you imme- 
 diately after the trunk. Can take refreshments there, as well as 
 here. I will point the house to you now. Wrap yourself warmly, 
 and go. " 
 
 He soon went out at the side gate ; passed her saying, — 
 
 " Come ! " 
 
 At the door, he turned back alone, after giving her the key, and 
 whispering, — 
 
 " Adieu, my brown dove ! " 
 
 After a lime, he heard her feet on the stairs ; and then the slow, 
 heavy steps of the servants, taking down the trunk ; then the clos- 
 ing of the gate. Not a trace of Charlotte remained. His servant 
 returned to his master's room. The colonel took up his hat and 
 gloves, saying, — 
 
 " Make your bed upon this floor, till I return. '* 
 
 Charlotte's new abode was one of beauty and convenience. 
 Furniture, carpets, and sideboard were the reflection of his taste, 
 and formed an inviting bower for his chosen companion and him- 
 self. 
 
 The sun was high in the heavens, pouring his rays over the glit- 
 tering waters of the Ashly ; and the streets were filled with busy 
 life, when Colonel Haywood passed in at his own iron gateway. 
 
 Dick opened the door for his master, and hastened to warn the 
 cook, that " marse done come. " Prince Andrew came bowing 
 low, to inform the colonel that " Breakfuss am ready, sir. " 
 
 '•I have breakfasted ! " was the reply. 
 
 Prince Andrew went to the kitchen, where were Jane the washer, 
 the coachman, the gardener, the ironer and the cook, in secret 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 205 
 
 conclave. A significant smile played about his black fsce, and 
 snowy teeth, as he announced with his deepest bow, 
 
 " De colonel hab dun breakfuss, Mistress Cook ! " 
 
 A clear perception of Prince Andrew's smile was quickly evinced 
 • by ail present. The cook, holding a hot slice of toasted bread on 
 Her tork, caught the contagious expression, and complimented his 
 grace of manner with a courtesy ; sayino", 
 
 "■ We know whar marse done breakfuss.' " 
 
 " That's true, cook ! " remarked the coachman. We toted Char- 
 ottes finery in one of marse's trunks last night to a fine little 
 house in River street. 
 
 A nodding of heads signified entire approval. 
 
 " xMarse get marry las' night, to him slabe bride. He marry -in 
 arter to-morrow. " ^ ^ ' 
 
 ''Marse dun make wise selec', " giggled the butler. "Charlotte 
 be splendid ! should like Charlotte myself ! " 
 
 "Trust the colonel for that ! " said the coachman. " He's as 
 good a judge o' women as he is of horses and do'^s i But let me 
 warn you all to keep back from your mouths, all you see, hear, and 
 know. Your teeth should be the double gate, that lets nothino- es- 
 cape Remember! we shall soon have to deal with two\Wh 
 bloods instead of o.ue. Remember March and the workhouse " 
 
 He dropped the arm raised in warning, and went out to the sta- 
 bles. Prince Andrew broke the awe of the kitchen 
 
 " Mistress Cook, I'll tank you for de dish ob toas' fur myse'f, an' 
 111 ake half dat omelet, and half dat shad. You'se brown 'em 
 'cisely to my taste. " 
 
 "Don^t you want all we to call you 'marse ', besides ' ole An- 
 drew ? angrily returned the cook. 
 
 "Dat would be 'cisely to my taste also, Mistress Cook. Gib me 
 gen wine cream for my coffee." 
 
 " Youse a gen'wine ole fool ! Now clar dis kitchen ' " 
 
 The Mowndes mansion on this day before the marriao-e of Grace 
 was in a remarkable hopeful and cheerful condition. Durino- the 
 vveek past, its posse of servants had applied their labor and skill to 
 the domestic exploits of exterminating every fleck of soil, every 
 hbre of the spider s industry, and every atom of dust in the various 
 compartments of the edifice, from the £ttic to the basement 
 
206 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 A choice force of skilled polishers had been manipulating the 
 magnificient and costly display of family silver, for six whole days. 
 Solid silver pitchers, wreathed with vine leaves and clustered 
 grapes ; solid silver vases, for a profusion of flowers ; solid silver 
 waiters, chased, and bas-relieved ; the centre piece, a mirror set in 
 silver, and standing upon lion's heads ; stacks of silver plates, sil- 
 ver tea and cojEfee services, silver goblets, vine-entwined ; spoons 
 and knives of varied devices, and for various uses; silver cake bas- 
 kets, and fruit receivers ; silver sugar bowls, and f.all, Egyptian, 
 urn-like cream-holders ; two massive punch-bowls, each of three 
 gallons capacity ; rich, embossed silver ladles ; besides many other 
 appointments of the festive board, were ranged in glossy rows 
 adown the tables soon to be spread for the bridal feast. 
 
 Not a shade of discolor, or a dust of powder was discernible 
 among the elaborate intricacies of embellishment. The spacious 
 dancing-hall was receiving to-day its adornment of numerous and 
 costly silver candlebra upon its walls, sheets of silver paper, and 
 soft blue tissues were being cut into fringes for the reception of the 
 wax candles, whose pearly light should heighten the enchantment 
 of costume and complexion, on this coming important occasion,. 
 
 Grace and her doling mother held conferences at intervals, on 
 the parlor sofas, in Mrs. ]\lowndes chamber, or in Grace's boudoir. 
 An observer would have read upon their countenances, in succes- 
 sion, the trustful, hopeful, joyful emotions of woman's soul, united 
 with sweet aniicipation, and a passive ecstasy in the present, in 
 which each seemed to be transfigured. 
 
 "Ah! my daughter is realizing the highest degree of earthly 
 happiness to-day! " sinking down by her side, as if exhausted by a 
 tour of inspection. 
 
 "True, dear mamma, my thoughts have at last found a delicious 
 peace, that celestial peace which woman must ever taste, when 
 sheltered under the pure and manly love of one formed by Nature 
 and position to command unfaltering devotion. Such is Ralph, 
 my Ralph ! who, during all these years of absence and temptation, 
 has preserved my image, high above all others ; and who has 
 borne across the sea, and back again, an unswerving affection for 
 me, — an affection next the adoration for his God. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 207 
 
 Mrs. Mowndes held her daughter to her heart, imprinting kisses 
 upon her radiant face. 
 
 " Ah, my precious child 1 what unspeakable pleasure it gives me 
 to hear the sacred words from your lips. Tempest-tossed by 
 hopes and fears, as you have been, these years of Ralph's absence, 
 it is delightful to know that your happy trust is implicit, and 
 that the pure maiden incense of your young heart has not been 
 offered before an unworthy shrine. Soon you will take his name, 
 and be his alone, cund forever. 
 
 "Everything moves on systematically and harmoniously. No 
 item of preparation is omitted. The servants are in iiigh feather 
 about their *' dear young missus' ' wedding, as they affectionately 
 name you. The silver is resplendent, and — " 
 
 The bell ! 
 
 "Ah! the roses spring to my daughter's cheeks. Ah! the 
 sweet lambent light which plays through these trusting eyes ! " 
 
 The waiting-man presented a waiter, with a card upon it. Mrs. 
 Mowndes took the card, and presented it to Grace. 
 
 "As I thought. It is he. His footsteps turn hither, as the sun 
 to its dawning. Hasten, my love." 
 
 Grace flew down to the parlor. Colonel Haywood's open arms 
 held her to his breast, his lips murmured, — 
 
 " I cannot live so long without thee. Ah ! the blissful to- 
 morrow. To-morrow thou shalt be mine." 
 
 The morrow advanced. The sun came up from the sea, veiled 
 in a silvery, diaphanous haze, which concealed his burning 
 glories. 
 
 "Observe, mamma," cried Grace, an ecstatic thrill modulating 
 her voice. " Observe, the very sky, atmosphere and earth, honor 
 my bridal." 
 
 " Surely my dear. A silvery opalescence pervades each, in 
 harmony with the whiteness of these two lives, about to be united 
 into one." 
 
 "Adieu, Charlotte, queen of my soul !" said Colonel Haywood, 
 as he stood in the hall, ready to leave her cosy nest, on River 
 street. "Look up brown dove. This is my wedding-day. Be 
 not dismayed. Once more, come. Let me fold thee to this warm 
 
203 WHITE MAYj AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 heart, that beats alone for thee, the same yesterday, to-day and 
 forever." 
 
 With a light laugh, he caught her in his arms, and sung, — 
 
 " Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, 
 
 And the rocks melt wi' the sun ; 
 I will luve thee still, my dear, 
 
 While the sands o' life shall run. 
 And fare thee well, my only luve 1 
 
 And fare the well, awhile ; 
 And I will come again, my luve, 
 
 Tho' it were ten thousand mile." 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 COLONEL ASHLAND was glad and relieved that the gov- 
 erness was no longer a tenant of the Hall. He had resolved 
 upon his future course ; and that this course of action was warped 
 to his own selfish and supreme will, none can doubt. In a land of 
 slaver}^ the will of the master is absolute law. The children of 
 the slaveholder are allowed the full outgrowth of this arbitrary fac- 
 ulty, as indication of a tendency directly towards their imperial des- 
 tiny. Therefore, the colonel was addressed as " young Marse 
 Frank," while he lay muling and puling in his black mauma's arms, 
 before even the white gleam of a tooth had set itself in his baby 
 gums. His attendants, young and old, received upon their faces 
 and persons repeated testimonials of his Napoleonic instincts, 
 through his clenched fists and aggressive palms. 
 
 Throughout his boyish years, arrogance, the deadly parasite, 
 sucked vitality from every noble faculty and genial impulse of his 
 nature. Like the young " King of Rome " in an interview with 
 Josephine ; his sovereign inquiry in a perplexing contretemps^ or em- 
 barrassment of plans, was, — 
 
 •■' Why cannot this be, since my papa and I wish it ? " 
 Colonel Ashland married in accordance with his own, and his 
 father's will. He gave his hand and vows to blood, and a broad 
 inheritance ; reserving his heart for love's conquests. The frail, 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 209 
 
 high-born wife had reposed in St. Luke's cemetery, two years. 
 Her proud dust slept in state within its gates, beneath the splen- 
 dors of the Ashland column ; sheltered by marble wings of cheru- 
 bim and seraphim. 
 
 After the mistress' death, Honora Hudson guided the helm of 
 household interests, in addition to the duties of teaching the chil^ 
 dren. In a sudden transport, at a certain golden eventide, musical 
 with mocking bird's song. Colonel Ashland, forgetting his heredi- 
 tary blood, once offered the fair governess his hand and name ; 
 but her watchful eye was too faithful a sentinel for the colonel's 
 pathway; and she would not accept a hand, divorced from the 
 heart. 
 
 Stung by the insolence of refusal ; enraged by the temerity that 
 dared to bafHe his designs, he still tauntingly pursued his prey. 
 He felt himself wearied in the -'insignificant pursuit ; " as he 
 styled it. He was like the panting buttertly-hunter,when hi's airy and 
 graceful decoy leads him into most humiliating places, and finally 
 sails away into blue ether, out of reach either of net or voice. 
 
 The firm refusal of the governess became a thorn in his memory, 
 and he would have nothing in " Nightingale Hall " to remind him' 
 of her once hated presence. What cared he for promises made at 
 her death-bed .? Her requests were verbally granted, to shorten a 
 disagreeable interview, and also to grant that satisfaction which 
 none can deny to a dying petition. 
 
 The slow, hard earnings of the governess, saved for the daughter, 
 had been placed in his hands ; but he had already handed over the 
 amount to his own factors, where it mingled with his thousands, as 
 rain-drops mingle with the sea. 
 
 Through his lady friends, he had secured a place for Hattie in a 
 family of rank in Charleston, as a sort of governess and companion 
 for two children. He had explained the anticipated change to the 
 young girl in a favorable light,— representing the advantages of 
 city life, as more eligible than those of their island home.'' She 
 would there see more of society, become more polished in mind and 
 habits by contact with it. Progress in music also was made an os- 
 tensible inducement for the removal She should leave the next 
 week, on the river schooner touching at his wharf. 
 
 Naturally timid, and rendered doubly so by the cold hauteur of 
 
210 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Colonel Ashland's manner, the lonely orphan withdrew from the in- 
 terview with ill concealed eagerness, and rushed to the old nest of 
 Mauma Rose's arms. 
 
 "What happen now, chile? Pisen snake done try charm de 
 3'oung missus, an' you done run 'way fine ole Mauma Rose ? " 
 Clasping her more closely, and brooding the fair brown head with 
 her own shadowy face, she asked tenderly, — 
 
 " All safe now den ? Say, honey ? " 
 
 " I must leave ' Nighingale Hall.' The colonel directs me to go 
 to Charleston. I am to stay with a lady and take charge of two chil- 
 dren. All will be stransrers to me there." 
 
 As the wildwood jasmine clings to the black and flame-scarred 
 forest pine, still strong in its living heart, so the fearful Hattie 
 threw her arms around mauma's neck, crying, — 
 
 " Oh ! if you could go with me, I could have one friend ! " 
 
 ]\Iauma fell to the old habit of strokins: the fair hair, and with a 
 gentle swaying motion, crooned an answer in a low lullaby tone. 
 
 "Ole Rose slabe, chile. Stole 'way from ole Guinea ; pack we in 
 de ship hole ; chain we here ; drive we ; sell we wid de bosses. 
 Can't go wid lily-bud. Marse tie dese feet. Ole Rose gots nottin 
 leff, when her white flower done gone. Me one. All Rose lub dey 
 steal 'way. All my chilen done sole." 
 
 " How many children, mauma ? " 
 
 " I ben had ten chilen, ^Miss Hattie, fine soun' chilen. Isaac, de 
 oles', tall, hansum, ole marse footman. He ben de sun in de hebeu 
 to me ; but dey sell him, put on de hancufts in de dinin-room. 
 Trader take him 'way, — cussin him an' cussin me, 'cause I foller, 
 dras: 'Ions: on mv knees an' be^: dem leave me one chile," 
 
 "Was Isaac the last one sold, mauma? " and Hattie sat looking 
 at the sorrowful face, tenderly and unconsciously smoothing the 
 bright folds of the turban on the stricken head. 
 
 " Yes, miss, dey sell de odders long fore. But I got suthin to 
 'member Isaac ; dey can't steal dat." 
 
 " What have you, mauma ? " 
 
 " Stan' up honey, dere, I show you." 
 
 The black, trembling hands begun to open her diess, and to 
 drav/ it from her shoulders. Hatiie assisted, ignorant of the rev- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 211 
 
 elation in waiting. Suddenly her hands dropped from her task. 
 She shrieked out, — 
 
 "What is it, mauma? " 
 
 " Dat where I 'member my poor boy. Dat where I mourn. Dat 
 where I shed my blood fur him." 
 
 For the first time, Hattie looked upon the human form, scarred 
 by the slave-whip. Long welts of the thickness of a man's finger, 
 ridged her back, where the ugly ragged gashes had healed. Knots 
 of scored flesh, interspersed with seamed patches, disfigured the 
 shoulders and struck horror to Hattie's sympathetic soul. Indeed, 
 none but demons could look upon those bloody bas-reliefs, un- 
 moved. Yet there were few in our young Republic, who even 
 dreamed that these and other similar medalions of the slaver's 
 lash would ever call to Heaven for its unmitigated wrath, or a na- 
 tion which stamped God's image with such hellish dies. 
 
 Hattie made rapid interrogation. Mauma repeated the scene. 
 
 "Ebry day I cry, wring dese ole han', can't eat, grow tin, sick, 
 pray God to die. Isaac tall — gran' like Africa palm, gone out ob 
 my sight, I neber see him mo'. Den dey cuss me, tie me to de 
 tree, cut dis back up — Oh ! Lor Jesus ! till I die, faint 'way." 
 
 "O mauma, how cruel ! but they don't treat slaves so now ? I 
 never saw one whipped." 
 
 " Dey don' want de Norf people ter know all dere debble work. 
 You' mudder here, Marse Ashland cut de people out ob sight ob 
 her eye. But O Lor' ! he whip dough. When you done gone, he 
 tie 'em up to ebry tree in dis yard. Now. dear chile, heah ole Rose. 
 You young. Don' spect nottni. Ebryting in dis Ian' b'long to de 
 slabe marser. He put him han' on ebryting hansum, an' call it 
 him own. Ebrybody slabe but him. He'll put dat han' on you, 
 poor )ily-bud. Fse seen heap in dis country. ^ Ole Rose know." 
 
 " Mauma, I am a Northerner. I do not belong to the South ; they 
 cannot claim me. And besides, I have a thousand dollars to take 
 me away, if I chose to go." 
 
 "Jes what I tell ye, 'spects nottin. Dese yere Southerners hate 
 de Norf people, dey 'spise 'em. I ben to de Norf wid ole marse 
 and missus, when I nurse dis same Marse Ashland. Him wife, de 
 missus, say all dem mean, lowborn Yankee; dey work jes like her 
 slabe, — mock arter 'em, make gran' sport arter 'em. Dey hate 'em. 
 
2 12 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 I tell ye, honey. De Norf people treat des Southerners, like king 
 an' queen, — kine to we. But dese 'buse de Norf gentleum an' lady 
 dere, an' when dey comeheah. jMauma Rose pray for her lily-bud ; 
 but 'pears de Lor' done heah prayers out ob dis Ian'." 
 
 In the cup now placed to Hattie's lips, the bitter and the .sweet 
 sharply commingled. Bitterly sad was the contemplation of part- 
 ing from the scene of her mother's death, and the last look at her 
 lonely grave. On the other side, Charleston, Ti'iih rainbow sights 
 and sounds, beckoned her away with syren hand. Some tears fell 
 among the stores of her trunk in packing. During her twilight 
 garden stroll, drops heavier than evening dews nestled into the 
 hearts of roses, and plashed upon the leaves of the roses. 
 
 Colonel Ashland had now reached the acme of his wishes ; but 
 he had not attained to this, through patient wailing for the fulfill- 
 ment of a long cherished desire. He had surveyed all barriers to 
 this slow crisis, with the ferocity of an untamed nature. He was 
 simply kept at bay by a hand and eye such as enters, unharmed, 
 the cages of grovvling lions. Honora Hudson's wand of power, 
 althou2:h it budded and blossomed like Aaron's, serenely swaved 
 his instincts, and led him to perform many feats of gentleness and 
 docility, quite foreign to his plans. 
 
 But now he was master of the field. Death came to his aid, 
 and carried his keeper awa}-. He was now sovereign of his own 
 destiny ; and in his hands he held the destiny of every walking, 
 living being at the Hall. He dispatched his footman to the quar- 
 ters, with an order for Cleopatra to come up to the house at the 
 expiration of a half hour. 
 
 Cleo's cabin had been given to herself and mother — unlike the 
 others in the same negro hamlet. The room was a model of neat- 
 ness. There was one glazed window looking out under the foliage 
 of a broad-spreading fig. White curtains were looped away at the 
 casings ; a new mantel over the broad fireplace held a vase of 
 roses; w'ith various other fancy articles rarely found in slave 
 cabins. A table with a snow-white cover, held piles of negro 
 cloth cut into garments ; some finished, and others in process of 
 making. The old black mother was spinning cotton, with her 
 turban neatly folded about her gray head. Pieces of carpeting 
 
WHITE MAY, AND ELACK JUNE. 2 I3 
 
 covered nearly the whole floor. There were painted chairs also 
 and one that had evidently been brought from the '^bi- house'' 
 as It rolled on castors, and had its arms and back stuffed with 
 crunson covers Its mates were still at the Hall. This chair was 
 by the curtained window, and wore its white muslin cover thrown 
 loosely over it, as a shield from casual dust. 
 
 There was also a carved bedstead, a counterpane, droopin- with 
 fringes, a pavilion also, looped neatly away, and pillows hi-h, soft 
 and inviting with a pleasant bit of lace falling from the Sd^e of 
 the slips. The rough boards, joists and braces of the walls, pure 
 and white with hme wash, had a cleanly, inviting air. The split 
 pine fence woven in and out of its upper and lower railings, con- 
 cealed Its rude structure by a veil of trumpet honeysuckle and 
 fragrant jasmines ; while the walk from the gate to the humble 
 door was fringed with snow-drops and daffodils which in early 
 spring vied with the breath of English violets and hyacinth bells. 
 
 All these expressions of taste within and without Cleo's cabin 
 had a meaning. There were symbols which even the untutored 
 minds of her sable neighbors easily deciphered. They knew 
 whose feet walked to that door among lilies and violets. Without 
 the aid of belles- ettres, they divined the poetry of the crimson arm- 
 chair, and the chivalrous romance of the plump, white pillows, and 
 the fringed counterpane. i , ^ 
 
 Cleo received the master's orders with a quicker heart-beat : 
 laid by the thimble and needle with her half-tinis hed work, and 
 employed the half hour in making her toilet. 
 
 She passed out of the gate, glided along the narrow footpath 
 and up the broad avenue to the Hall Springing up the broad 
 flight of steps to the piazza, and thence up another flight to her 
 master s room, she entered and stood by the door, her eyes fallino- 
 to the floor. ^ ^ 
 
 Cleopatra, like Queen Esther, "had put on her royal apparel" 
 before she stood in the inner court of the king's house " This 
 evening, she chose a robe of white, with a deep embroidered 
 flounce. Its trimmings and ornaments were of blue A blue 
 satin sash encircled her waist, and fell in long ends at her side. 
 Blue ribbons looped up the full puffs of her sleeves, and fluttered 
 down over a frill of lace to the elbows. Blue pendants trembled 
 
214 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 in her small ears, and a match of bracelets clasped her bare, round 
 arm. 
 
 She was "black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem." 
 The sun " had looked upon " her, and her soft skin was of velvety 
 blackness. Her genuine African hair was combed away into 
 soft masses, each side of her forehead ; a band of blue velvet 
 sinking in among the crisp, tiny, curls, gleamed out above the part- 
 ing. The white drapery of her attire fell gracefully about her 
 tall figure. Iler long, taper, fingers were clasped patiently, and her 
 dreamy eyes Vv'ere hidden by drooping lids, and long jet lashes. 
 
 "But not once her lips she opened ; 
 Not a single word she uttered." 
 
 A deep tide of joy crept through her pulses ; but having been 
 born and raised a slave, a ready self-control veiled every emotion, 
 and she appeared as cold and statuesque as marble itself. 
 
 The colonel knew how to speak life into the immobile figure 
 before him. He extended both his hands ; in a tender, and 
 almost supplicating tone, he said, — 
 
 "Cleo, come to me." 
 
 She came forward, and laid her dark hands in his. He drew her 
 to a seat beside himself, looked at her smilingly, and remarked, — 
 
 "You have arrayed yourself charmingly, to-day. Cleo, you quite 
 ravish me." 
 
 He retained one of her hands in his own, with the other he ca- 
 ressed lightly the soft masses of her jet black hair. 
 
 Oh ! the transforming power of Love. By its divine alchemy, 
 the earth is glorified. The vulgar are set upon thrones. The 
 .o-lowerin£:s of adverse fate Vv'arm into the smiles of a kind Provi- 
 dence. Beneath the wand of the sweet sorcerer, the self-willed, 
 supercilious, irascible Master Ashland, became pliant, complacent, 
 and serene. His soul, gnarled and deformed by the inheritance 
 of absolute power over an abject race, became beautiful as 
 Apollo, ill lifting up one of that race to an equality with himself. 
 
 *' Like a man from dreams awakened, 
 He was healed of all his madness ! • 
 As the clouds are swept from heaven, 
 Straightway from his brain departed 
 All his moody melancholy ! " 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 215 
 
 " Look up, Cleo ! are you frightened ? Where are your eyes ? 
 There, that's it! Here's the dimples! Now I have something to 
 say I Going to Hsten ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir 1 " 
 
 " Well then ; this is the moment I have impatiently waited for ; 
 you will come to my room by stealth no longer; and I shall be re- 
 lieved of the necessity of walks to your cabin. It is too much 
 trouble ! I shall have a change. " 
 
 Iler eyes flashed full upon him. BrimfuU of startled fear, she 
 laid her hand upon his arm, and cried, — 
 
 " Oh ! master ! Shall I be sold .? " My dear master, shall I be * 
 sold? " A groan of anguish followed, and her head dropped. 
 
 That harrowing cry was plainly heard in the yard, in the kitchen, 
 down the avenue, and among the garden roses, apparently unno- 
 ticed. The old' gardener plied his hoe, the servants went on as 
 usual. The mosses in the avenue might have been gray stalactites, 
 dripped from green, embowering caverns. To all intents, Cleo's 
 agonized scream might have been the casual trill of a bird, or the 
 crisp rustle of a magnolia leaf, falling from the stem. Not an eye 
 raised to the mister's room ; and yet the deaf ears heard, stolid 
 hearts thrilled with sudden pain, and low, short prayers in the 
 forms of "O God ! O Lord ! O Christ! " floated upward. Doubt- 
 less, He who graciously heeds the 
 
 '* Upward glancing of an eye ; 
 The falling of a tear ; " 
 
 gave His compassionate attention to these short petitions. Doubt- 
 less He comprehended their rare value as the crystalized lan- 
 guage of intensest suffering. In the brevity of these appeals. He 
 may have recognized the condensed virtue of a half hour's con- 
 ventional address to His name ; if, indeed, the learned devotion of 
 that era ever disturbed the courts of Heaven. On this immediate 
 occasion, although these prayers may have been groundless, let us 
 suppose they represented the general necessities and condition of 
 their class, and were divinely registered accordingly. 
 
 Colonel Ashland's own heart was shocked by that cry. 'He 
 quickly took both her wrists in his hands, in order to draw her to 
 himself, in assurance of perfect safety. 
 
2l6 WHITE MAY, AND CLACK JUNE. 
 
 Again the dark eyes lifted full upon him the pleading helpless- 
 ness, which only a slave can feel. Another agonized cry rose up 
 among the magnolias, and echoed adown the still avenue. 
 
 " O my God ! the handcuffs ! O Lord ! the handcuffs now ? " 
 
 " Hush ! Cleo, hush ! I say. You will not be sold. Never ! never ! " 
 
 He drew her near to him. Sorrowfully, and lovingly he re- 
 turned her questioning gaze. 
 
 *' Cleo, listen ! When you are sold on the auction block, they 
 will bid me off, also These soft, white hands of mine are all the 
 manacles your wrists shall ever feel. Stop trembling, for God's 
 sake ! Don't look so much like a hunted doe. Get that terrific 
 fear out of your eye.s', girl ! " 
 
 He allowed the wrists to fall ; but with a clasp of his arm, he 
 held her still. His lips touched her forehead. He held her from 
 him, and studied the tumult in her soul, with the utmost concern. 
 
 *' Sell you, Cleo? Why did you think it.^ The auctioneer that 
 would barter you on his cursed table, would find himself suddenly 
 disabled for his profession by my friend, here ! " laying a hand 
 upon the pistol in his pocket. " One of these bullets would give 
 his soul an easy ride to eternity ! " 
 
 For a moment, a fearful cloud darkened all the love-light on his 
 face. 
 
 Cleo's whole soul gladdened, with a sense of relief from what to 
 her, would have been a living death. Like the wrecked mariner, 
 she had been dragged from the drowning roar of breakers ; her feet 
 now stood firmly upon dry ground. A glad, appealing smile broke 
 over her features. 
 
 That smile Vv'as a blossom of the master's cultivation, as woman's 
 most approved smiles usually are. Man's pride (may be uncon- 
 scious to himself,) is to ever find his pleasure-gardens beauiitied, 
 and perfumed with their efflorescence ; constituting a flora of es- 
 pecial training, and sickly growth of shade, redolent with submis- 
 sion, humilit}', adoration, self-abnegation, tearful hope, and childish 
 trust. Such was the grateful, adoring look of Cleo, which gave 
 her whole heart into the colonel's keeping. The cloud on his 
 brow reflected the brightness of hers, and linally disappeared. 
 
 He well knew that he was her Fate, her protector, or annihilator. 
 Although he secretly relished these flattering testimonials to his 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 217 
 
 power — the slave girl's agony, and servitnde, — love led him to act 
 in the capacity of the former. 
 
 "Now tell me, Cleo, why you thought of being sold ? Have I not 
 passed hours at your cabin every day ^ Have I ever forgotten to 
 bring back something to please your fancy, in my city goings .'' " 
 
 She did not repl}', but caressed one of his fair hands in both her 
 own, and raised it to her lips. 
 
 " Speak ! tell me why ! You shall say what you like, without 
 reproof. " 
 
 " Pardon me ! but I thought you might have won some fair, 
 lovely Carolina wife, and when her proud step should enter these 
 halls, your poor, black Cleo must be far away. *' 
 
 " Pshaw ! I married once in accordance with our custom. I 
 married houses, lands, and Southern pride. IVIy v.-ife lies in St. 
 Lukes' cemetery, and my Northern school-ma'am lies outside ; 
 where plebeians should; whence I trust she will never rise, till 
 Gabriel's trump sha.kQS terra Jirma. I swear, I fear to blow my 
 dog-whistle, lest she mistake it for that fellow's horn ! " 
 
 " She was white, master ; and had eyes the color of the sky. " 
 
 " Blue eyes ! the devil ! I'll have no more of them. Give me 
 dark eyes ! your eyes, Cleo ! soft, and calm as the deep repose of 
 Indian lakes. " 
 
 She continued caressing the master's hand ; but asked the true 
 meaning of those words, " She should come to his room no longer ; 
 and " It was too much trouble to go to her cabin. " 
 
 "Why nothing more nor less, than that my poor black Cleo shall 
 come here to the ' big house', into the adjoining room, to live, to 
 stay, to sew, to take charge of things, aud to love her cruel master ! 
 How's that? How's the last clause, princess?" 
 
 "Do not doubt that my feet will fly to obey your wishes. Oh ! I 
 have dared to worship you ! but it was because you first took such 
 notice of me. It is too much to know that I shall not be cast away 
 from )'Our presence ! I am too happy ! I will follow^ your steps 
 like your faithful Spanish hound ' Reina,' so I am only near 
 you. " 
 
 She laid one hand on his shoulder, resting the other upon his 
 knee. Her eyes filled with regretful humiliation. In an humble 
 voice, she bewailed the absence of those charms, which she sup- 
 
2l8 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 posed most acceptable to him, which would lessen the probability 
 of a future separation. 
 
 " I wish God had made me beautiful, so that you might keep me 
 near you, forever ! Oh ! why did not my Maker give mc^ too, a 
 waxen skin ; cheeks and lips of rose-color, like Ilattie's ? Why 
 could I not have had hair — " 
 
 " Straight as an Indian's, hey t Now if you had pink eyes, blue 
 blood, and long waxen locks, you could not have mc ! Hear? Do 
 you think, my dear Egyptian, that I was born in South Carolina, 
 and cannot choose for myself 1 ]\Ioreover, that what my choice elects, 
 I will not possess? Furthermore, we hear enough of 'golden 
 strands,' and 'auburn tresses,' and all that threadbare nonsense; 
 but I know 
 
 " * Hair of glossy living spray, 
 
 Tossed up from midnight into day j 
 Beneath which lies in hidden whirls 
 Infinitesimals of curls ; 
 Meshed into eddies — into rings — 
 Like woven lace ! — coquettish things ! 
 
 And every coil so shyly meshed, 
 No larget than a dew-drop's nest. 
 Holds in its close and coy embiace 
 A marvelous, and pensile grace. 
 It is a dower of tropic blood, 
 That pours its glory like a flood. 
 
 Alike upon the Saxon head ; 
 
 Or round the Indian brow of red, 
 
 Anointing evejy other race 
 
 With Beauty's most entrancing grace I 
 
 It weaves its wild enchantment through 
 
 The veins of Gentile, Greek, or Jew ! 
 
 Where'er a soul holds Nature's trust, 
 That mystic power forever just — 
 The love that heeds no stifling call. 
 Which knows no autocrat, no thrall — ^ 
 There doth this dower of tropic blood 
 Unloose its dark, bewildering flood ! 
 
 There do these tiny, clinging whirls, 
 Unfold and drop caressing curls ! 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 219 
 
 Then, laughing waves, and rippling jet 
 Show household heads, tiara set — 
 Such wondrous beauty rarely falls 
 To harem bowers, or monarch's halls.' 
 
 " There, Cleo, what do you think of your hair now, when poesy 
 wreaths with fairy measure such a crown f6r you ? What about 
 these funny little dew-drops' nests ? " 
 
 " Do not be angry ; but I scarcely understand its meaning. It 
 sounds like music. Please explain it. I can neither read nor 
 understand. Oh ! I fear the master wall tire of Cleo, and desire 
 other society for his happiness." 
 
 " Hush ! Cleo. I can do the reading for both. Your under- 
 standing is comprehensive enough to know that I want you fri^e to 
 me. That is the beginning and end of it all. I can read poetry to 
 you, and elucidate also. This little poem signifies, that in your 
 blood lies a mine of beauty for the world j that wherever it 
 mingles with that of another race or people, it laughs out in 
 showers of long, falling curls, whether that race be White, Indian 
 or Chinese. It's true as God is in the heavens, that my faded race 
 finds a new baptism of strength, color and elegance, from just such 
 as yourself; Cleopatra the Second." 
 
 "Now, let nothing annoy you ; the premises are under my con- 
 trol. I shall have no other wife before 76'^<J. Minnie is sold; she 
 goes to morrow. That may lessen anxiety on your part. The old 
 nurse Rose, will retain charge of my two children, in the other 
 wing of the house. I want always to see you in my room when I 
 enter, or within hearing of the slightest call. I must hear your 
 voice and step, first of all," 
 
 " Can I be heard on one subject, which is troublesome still .? " 
 
 "Yes, Cleo, speak on." 
 
 " When your sisters from Mobile visit here, what if they repre- 
 sent me to you as unfaithful to your interests ? Shall I lose your 
 esteem, then .? Shall I take the lash at their hands ? Shall you 
 allow them to sepatate us ? " 
 
 " By Heaven ! no ! They understand me too well to cross my 
 wishes. If they come, go on in your pleasant manner, wait upon 
 them patiently, and quietly tell them all. fF/io or w/ia^ shall dare 
 to come between a man and bis choice .-* " 
 
220 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " But I am only yours at your pleasure. There cannot be mar- 
 riage between us." 
 
 " Cleo, there is all the marriage between us necessary. In our 
 State, there is the legal form of marriage without the soul ; but the 
 soul of marriage exists without the form. Ours is the latter. 
 Have yonr bureau and the chairs brought to the house this evening ; 
 also the French bed, and place them in the ante- room. Hear, 
 Princess ? I go over to Major Regnal's plantation for this even- 
 ing ; to-morrow morning to Charleston with Hattie. I shall bring 
 dresses and trinkets for you. What colors shall your dresses be ? " 
 
 " The colors and material that pleases you most, I prefer." 
 
 "Very well, then. Leave it tome. Ring for the butler; tell 
 him to bring my favorite wine and cakes from the pantry, with a 
 cut of the old Northern cheese." 
 
 When the silver waiter was brought, by a strange intuition, or 
 under a more definite impression, it bore fwo wine glasses, and 
 other twin etc. The butler retired with the gravest of bows, which 
 covered a sly, comical glance at Cleo. 
 
 "Pour the ruby draught, Cleo. Touch my glass with yours — 
 drink to me health, long life, and your own true heart." 
 
 He rose, took a turn around the room, measured the falling sun, 
 and sung in rich, rollicking tones an old refrain, — 
 
 " Now tip to mine your glass. 
 My bonnie, bonnie lass ; 
 Then let their ringing chime 
 Float down the stream of Time. 
 We'll drain these cups together 
 To love, and sunny weather. 
 To all life holds in fee, 
 Drink ! Hebe, drink to me ! 
 
 She filled the glasses, presented one to the colonel, and touched 
 the crystal rim of hers to the one her master held. Then she 
 raised the glowdng symbol above the blue band in her hair. She 
 besought Heaven to grant all his requests, and more, to the one 
 object of her adoration — her master. 
 
 The declining sun carpeted the broad piazza floor with shadows, 
 mottling it between the dark bars cast by the pillars, with dancing 
 shapes of breezy leaves. The embroidered curtains, waving in and 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 221 
 
 out of the windows, admitted a slant beam full into the uplifted 
 glass, illuminating its heart like a flame. 
 
 " See ! " she said. " Heaven smiles, and the wine changes to a 
 living fire ! " 
 
 Her own eyes kindled, lighted with a deep joy, at the revelations 
 of the past few hours. That scene was an inspiration for the hand 
 of an artist. It was a picture, which truthfully transferred to canvas, 
 would have given the flattest contradiction to the ever-vaunted 
 prejudices against color, and the boast of blue blood. Copies of 
 this unique bridal of the purest white, and deepest black — of 
 power and lowliness; classed among other masterpieces of art, or 
 suspended in the Capitol side by side with Rolfe and Pocahontas, 
 or illuminating the elegant periodicals of the day, would have shown 
 this prejudice to be a fabrication, a myth, finding its futile form 
 only upon the deceitful tongues or men. 
 
 Man has ever professed to love, in woman, gentleness, amiability, 
 and a placid homage to his self-styled superiority. Slavery had 
 molded Cleo into the most perfect type of Colonel Ashland's choice. 
 His desideratiwi was, — 
 
 "Health and quiet, and loving words." 
 
 Pride of birth and statutes frowning, "Love is mightier than 
 all." He neither could nor would, close his heart against his dark 
 "Maud Muller." 
 
 " He thought of his sisters, proud and cold ; 
 And his mother, vain of her rank and gold," 
 
 But he was one to tear away, like spider's webs, all the ^^might 
 have beens " from his life. 
 
 There was a law in South Carolina, taking away from a slave the 
 power to contract marriage. It ran thus, — 
 
 " A slave cannot even legally contract marriage. The marriage 
 of such an one is morally good \ but in point of law, the union of 
 slave with slave, or slave and free negro, is concubinage^ mej-ely.^^ 
 Consequently, Carolina's "pure" and wise legislators, the guardians 
 of her well-being, had instituted a system of concubinage, of as 
 strong, matted a growth, as were the grasses of her plains and hill- 
 sides. It sprung up in the very crevices of their hearthstones. It 
 was destined to choke the roses and lilies of every pleasant spot. 
 
222 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Among the majority of her people, there could be no legal mar- 
 riage. Therefore, in law. Colonel Ashland was entering upon a 
 course of concubinage ; but in the social practices of his State, he 
 had solemnized a marriage '■'' morally goody 
 
 So together they both drank the wine of that sacrament, which 
 the law declared morally good. She sat down by his side content. 
 But her heart throbbed afresh, when she observed in his eyes the 
 gathering gloom of thought, as he thrust their steely gaze into her 
 own. 
 
 " What is it, dear master ? " she asked. 
 
 " Well, every perplexity must be cleared up to-day. One re- 
 mains — that is Aleck, the brown, lithe fellow that hung about you 
 some time ago. What of him ? I notice his face wears a dogged 
 sulkiness, recently." 
 
 "He has not set his foot within my cabin gate for a year. His 
 task work takes him far from here, on the other side of the planta- 
 tion. I have no regard for him. Believe me. 
 
 *' Still he waits for you, and does not give up the pursuit. He 
 passes me with the customary salutation of a slave ; but the haughti- 
 ness of his step and eye allies him to the Bey of Algiers ! I shall 
 sell him — take him to Charleston, to-morrow." 
 
 " Pull the bell for the footman, now. Bid him bring * Brigand,' 
 saddled, to the door for me, and pony ' Barefoot ', for himself. 
 Have all arrangements made, during my absence, as you know I 
 desire." 
 
 The long gallop of " Brigand's," and the patter of " Barefoot's " 
 heels passed down the avenue. 
 
 The quarters grew noisy with the evening return from the fields. 
 Plumes of purple smoke lifted in turn above the cabins of the toil- 
 ers. Dusky figures, in short homespun skirts, passed to and fro, 
 to the spring, bearing buckets of water upon their heads. The 
 hand-mill which ground the evening meal from the corn ration, was 
 turning busily ; and while the crushed grain fell from the whirling 
 stones, a low', sweet pathos of improvised song fell also from the 
 lips of the crushed humanity which ground there. 
 
 Clear, strong, flute-like notes floated to the listener's ear, from 
 loirerers by the river, in the pines, or at the still unfinished task. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 223 
 
 The red sun hung over the western woods, and poured a flush of 
 crimson light upon Nightingale Hall ; gilding its pillars, and mak- 
 ing its windows burning jewels. It streamed in among the quar- 
 ters, glorifying the cabins with a like impartial touch. His level 
 rays also lighted up the lofty oaken bower over the avenue, and 
 bronzed the lower swaying edges of the moss drapery within. Be- 
 neath this golden fringe which trailed over Cleo's hair and shoul- 
 ders, she passed in and out of the alternate bars of sunshine and 
 shade, formed by tree trunks, and the gilded drive. Her thougts 
 wore the same coiileiir de rose as the landscape. Joy gave elasticity 
 to her step, and elegance to her carriage. 
 
 When she called Luke and Friday to make the removal to the 
 "great house," their ragged brimmed hats were doffed, and their 
 eyes glistened. With a deep bow, and a foot drawn back, they 
 replied, — 
 
 " Sartin, for sure ! Muss 'bey de missus. We tote 'em, right 
 
 'wav ! " 
 
 When the last article had been " toted," and Cleo had arranged 
 all at the cabin, it was dark. Sauntering slowly up the avenue, 
 wrapt in delicious musings, a tall form stepped from the trees to 
 her side. The agitated girl placed her hand kindly upon the 
 shoulder of her spectre-like visitor, saying, — 
 
 " Aleck ! Aleck ! do go away now ! Leave me to walk on alone 
 For your own sake, — for my sake, go 1 " 
 
 " I will not go, Miley ! This is the last time I shall meet you ! 
 You are going to be the wife of Colonel Ashland ! How can you 
 do this ? You do not love that white blood-hound, that makes 
 your race dogs and slaves, Miley ? Tell me no ! " 
 
 " Aleck, I cannot tell you no ! I do love Colonel Ashland. 
 Before my Savior, I love him ; and before Him there are no races, 
 no color, no rich, no poor, no slave, no free ! Why did you not 
 forget me, Aleck ? I told you long ago to do that ! " 
 
 " Why don't the mocking bird forget to sing? Does the magno- 
 lia forget to blossom ? Why don't the spring forget to come ? I 
 waited for 3^ou, Miley, all this long time ; for I thought the master 
 would throw you 'way, as all the white men do ; and then I might 
 have you for mine at last. Oh ! I hate these whites ; with their 
 Bibles, and chains, and slavery ! Miley, will you go with me to- 
 
224 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 night? Before Brigand's feet come thundering back? Ill hide 
 you where no tracks are left behind. Say you hate that white 
 devil, and^o." 
 
 " Aleck, I cannot stay here, it is not safe for either ; but I must 
 go to the house. If the colonel should turn cruel and hard, I 
 should love him still. I cannot leave him." 
 
 " Then ask him to sell me, as far as winds and waves will carry 
 me. With you, I could bear this cursed slavery, — the lash, or any- 
 thing a master chose to put on me ; but I cannot serve ///;// now. 
 Do one thing for me ! Beg him to sell me ; or, some day, when 
 he think himself safe, this hand may throw 'way his life, as he has 
 mine." 
 
 He grasped her other hand, which hung by her side. "Tell me, 
 Miley, what is this other name your master call you ? " 
 
 " He changed it to Cleopatra, and calls me Cleo." 
 
 '* Thank our Lord that your own name, that is to me like the 
 song of the Nonpariel, will not be on his lips. Miley, Miley, that 
 is mine. I'm going! Good bye, Miley, till we meet where there 
 is no parting." 
 
 " He, the strong one and the manly, 
 With the vassal's garb and hue, 
 Holding still his spirit's birthright 
 To his higher nature true," 
 
 strode away between the live-oak boles, and was lost in the masses 
 of shadow beyond. 
 
 " God is love ! " saith the Evangel ; " and our world of woe and sin 
 Is made light and happy only, when a Love is shining in 1 " 
 
 Cleo moved slowly on to the house. The lights in the Hall, and 
 in her room, burned, bleared and dazed. She saw them through 
 tears. 
 
 Hattie was ready for the morning's departure ; and by the ad- 
 vice of Mauma Rose, had sought her bed. The colonel's children 
 also, through the sweet magnetism of her voice, and hands, had 
 forgotten the day's vexations, and were reveling in gay, butterfly 
 dreams. This placid state of affairs was not wholly fortuitous ; it 
 was the result of a whispered request of Minnie's, during the day, 
 
MIXNIE IX TEE BAR OF LIGHT. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 225 
 
 that she might have a cosy chat with her trusty confidant, Mauma 
 Rose, that evening, as it was her last day at the Hall. 
 
 Minnie was glad when the master and footman cleared the 
 avenue, — they would have the house to themselves. The faithful 
 old servant left the door of the nursery ajar, and took her low 
 chair upon the eastern piazza. Patches of star-lighted heavens 
 were discernible above the oleanders, and between the out-reaching 
 arms of the trees beyond. The breezy foliage rippled pleasantly 
 over the senses ; the calm of nature distilled into the human soul, 
 with falling dews. 
 
 It was an hour when the sweetest or saddest emotions, rise to 
 their highest intensity, — that delicious hour when the flashes of 
 wild romance, and longings for the impossible, which flame here 
 and there among our busy day-thoughts, seem to settle into en- 
 chanting reality, — when the wo'es and wickedness of life seem to 
 have gone down with the sun, and all that is pure and holy, to 
 have been left around us. 
 
 Mauma had scarcely composed her spirit, and white apron, as 
 Minnie glided round the corner of the piazza, out of the light of 
 the south side into the darkness of the eastern verandah, and 
 crossed the bright narrow line streaming from the nursery door. 
 "Mauma Rose," fell from her lips, like overflowing bubbles from 
 golden chalices. Their iris hues of delight were felt by the aged 
 hstener ; and tremulous with tenderness was the reply, — 
 
 "Here, chile." Silver bells, both voices — whose blessed 
 chimes quivered nearer to the " White Throne " than the Sabbath 
 peals of many others. 
 
 Minnie dropped down upon the floor at mauma's feet, as was 
 her wont j laying her beautiful head upon her own arm, thrown over 
 this ever-welcoming knee. 
 
 " What's dis I smells, darling ? Is you turn into rose-vine ? " 
 
 " Oh, Maum Rose ! I told the gardener I wanted two of the 
 white roses that master brought from France. He refused, but I 
 insisted. He said, no ; but I shook my curls at him and said jes ; 
 so I got them. When he gave them into my hand, he said,— 
 'There! don't ask me again ; its agin de rule.' Then I shook his 
 old shoulders, and told him I was going where I should have more 
 white roses than are in his care, and that I should wear them 
 
2 26 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 morning and evening, without the asking. You see I wanted one 
 for me, and one for Fred. Oh, I am so happy to-night. Here 
 they are, on that side. This is almost my wedding day. To- 
 morrow Fred will pay Colonel Ashland for me. I shall go away 
 to him. I a7n a bride to-night J^ 
 
 " Your weddin' day, my poor birdie ? " 
 
 Minnie's head rose from her arm as quickly as a young fawn's, 
 nestled among wood-laurels, when its ear catches the alarm of the 
 hunter. Her eyes searched the darkness for Mauma Rose's face 
 and expression. 
 
 '•'What is in your voice, mauma? It makes the chills run over 
 me. ' Poor birdie.' That sounds like the grieving of a mourning 
 dove. Why call me poor birdie ? I am a happy bride to-night. 
 Give me joy, Mauma Rose, give me joy." 
 
 " Mus' say what I'se tink, else don' say nottin'. I is ole, Minnie. 
 I is seen too much, my day. Rose say ' poor birdie,' cause 
 Minnie's in de net. Dere's no weddin', no bride for such like we. 
 Dese white lawyer and minister make de law, dat we is all concu- 
 bine, at dere marcy.". 
 
 Minnie shook back her curls, as if they tangled thought and 
 sight ; and looked up to the starry heavens. They were to her the 
 bespangled canopy of her bridal. 
 
 " Yes, they make laws against our marriage, I know, mauma, hut 
 they love us all the same. Their laws cannot prevent the natural 
 exercise of their affections, and they do not desire that. I am not 
 a concubine ! I could not marry Fred, if I would ; and the God 
 that made me, knows I cannot freeze my heart against him if I 
 would. The Bible says, ' What God hath joined together, let not 
 man put asunder.' God has joined us together by the love we 
 bear each other; and the State of South Carolina puts us asunder, 
 by not giving us the power to live together in a lawful manner. 
 The sin is not on my part, it is on theirs. Mauma Rose, the at- 
 tachment between Fred and me is the same kind, the same thing, 
 as the love they call holy and sacred, among the white people. It 
 is the same which is paraded before the altars of their proud 
 churches, for a Divine blessing. It is the same love which wraps 
 others in snowy white veils, and yet, O Lord ! would wrap me in a 
 mantle of shame." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 227 
 
 " Hush, honey ! dere's a pain come in 3'-ou young heart 'ready. 
 "We can't help ou'self. We be in de han' of de Flistines. Youse 
 talk like de preacher. How you know all dis ? Where you fin' dis 
 larnin'? " 
 
 " Dear mauma, I have no pain in my heart. Brides cannot have 
 heartache, when their lovers are true like mine. The law makes 
 me a chattel, but it cannot take away my power to think and rea- 
 son. That silent power, hid from all but God, man's arm cannot 
 reach ; and it is this thinking which gives me confidence and hap- 
 piness to-night. Now let me tell you one more secret. I know 
 how to read. There is where I stole the forbidden fruit of South 
 Carolina. Mauma, mauma, I have read half the books in mas- 
 ter's library. State laws and all. Oh ! there's a way for a chattel 
 to defy tyrants. 
 
 She gathered her amber-hued arms around the neck of her tried 
 old friend, and caroled forth another low, melodious laugh. 
 
 " Fred don't dream I can read, but he knows who was my father, 
 and he says the polish and refinement of my conversation, and the 
 choice language, was inherited from my father's blood. He calls 
 me, ' Lady Highborn.' " 
 
 "Don' know too much. Keep the book larnin' 'tween you and 
 de good Lord. De mens mus hab de larnin' all to theirself, an' 
 de women mus ask dem 'bout all dey 'pears to know. Does ye 
 hear, honey?" 
 
 "Yes, Minnie hears, mauma ; she knows how to follow her best 
 of counsel, likewise." Another subdued peal of bubbling laughter. 
 You see, Fred likes to have me speak correctly what I attempt to 
 say, and to call flowers, furniture and colors by their proper names. 
 So I have taken pains to get our flowers at ' Nightingale Hall,' all 
 right. I found master's list of their names, and their place in the 
 garden. These roses in my hair are the French Perles de VLnpera- 
 trice, — it means, 'Pearls of the Empress.' The gardener called 
 them 'Puddle Peartris.' How I laughed!" — and the warbling, 
 merry tones poured forth again. 
 
 Mauma's rickety voice broke out in merriment with hers. This 
 culmination produced unheard of hilarity. 
 
 Minnie arose and leaned over the balustrade. She caught her 
 breath, saying, — 
 
228 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " Oh my ! the stars are all dancing, and I have laughed till I 
 
 cried." 
 
 " Yes, darlin', let us hush, or de chilen will hab dere eyes open, 
 
 and — " 
 
 " Spoil our tete-a-tete, eh, mauma ? That's French. It grew out of 
 
 my French blood." 
 
 Then she bent over and whispered in her ear, — 
 
 "What a wonderful thing blood is, eh mauma.? Oh! I must 
 
 laugh again. No, I'll sing. Hark ! this came from one of our 
 
 books. 
 
 " * Oh, gaily in my glossy hair 
 
 I twine these roses, white and fair ! 
 
 My lover, in his dreams to-night 
 
 Shall see me crowned with their pale light, 
 
 I am his bonnie dark-eyed bride — 
 
 The morrow leads me to his side. 
 
 O morning haste, my life to bless ! 
 
 I'm pining for his dear caress,' " 
 
 " There, mauma, did you hear ? The tune came from my own 
 head." 
 
 " Dat's de mockin' bird tune." 
 
 " If I could learn to sing, Fred says I'd sing the larks to sleep ; 
 but I know he loves me just as I am. Mauma, give me your hand. 
 There, pass it over my dress. Don't you feel the gloss ? It's blue 
 satin ; he sent it to me to make up and wear when I go home to 
 him ; and watch now, where my hand goes in the narrow light. 
 See that pearl ring? He gave me that, too. I call it my engage- 
 ment ring. I've kissed it twenty times to-night. Go on tip-toe, 
 Mauma Rose ; open the nursery door just far enough to let the 
 light upon me." 
 
 " Yes, honey. I 'stracted wid you now. May de great Marser 
 keep Marse Fred heart t?'oo to dis best love.^^ 
 
 She opened the door without noise, far enough for the radiant 
 girl to step into the bright flood, pouring from it. The tall, graceful 
 figure — the costly satin drapery, falling in burnished folds, like 
 the blue sky of day in its sun-gilded glory ; the shining curls, fall- 
 ing over her shoulders to her waist ; the two white imperial roses 
 among them j the deeply flushed cheeks beneath the softening film 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 220 
 
 of brown ; the parted lips, revealing polished, snovvy teeth between ; 
 the proud bearing which was her birthright, all heightened by the 
 rapt ecstacy which beamed on every feature, made up such a 
 being as a any " admirer of woman " might have led exultantly to 
 the nuptial altar. 
 
 The Rev. Fred would have taken that hand with the ring of 
 pearls upon it. and fulfilled its sacred intent, but for the ban of his 
 State's Heaven-defying laws, and the conventional, falsified man- 
 hood of those vauntingly called her sons. Well, Minnie, the daugh- 
 ter of a French Consul, the American slave-girl, the affiancee of her 
 newmaster, still stood in the tide of light ; her jet eyebrows not so 
 much arched as clinging to the Grecian contour of the forehead, 
 and her eyes shaded from the sudden glare, by heavy silken lashes! 
 The vivacity, firmness, sunny languor, sagacity, grace and hauteur 
 of four nations centred in her. Indian, American, African and 
 French blood, enriched and perfected this rare human blossom. 
 
 Look at her again, dear reader, and give her a niche in memory j 
 for Art, which styles itself divine, is still servile. Its brush has 
 never yet caused the canvas to glow with such loveliness. The 
 chains of Caste yet limit its transcendent powers. 
 
 Mauma Rose brought her hands together in a gesture of wonder 
 and admiration. 
 
 Oh I you is beautiful! I'se seen many a white bride — none more 
 gran' an' sweet, dan dis one I " 
 
 Minnie turned out of the brightness, kissed the dear old with- 
 ered cheek, and with her arm around her, walked to the balustrade. 
 Still embracing her, she whispered, — 
 
 " Oh ! you don't know what Fred is to do for me ! I am to go 
 into the house at ' Breezy Bluff ', and have the entire charge of Tt. 
 The old butler will stay, also the cook, and washer. O Mauma 
 Rose ! " Again her caroling voice broke into a warble of laughter. 
 "Fred says he will sell 'Jake,* that handsome young footlnan; 
 he will take back old Sunday ! He will tell the old servant to look 
 after me. Ah I Fred is so jealous ! " 
 
 " Ob course, honey ! you will nebber cross him wishes. You 
 mus' try keep him heart wid yoursef." 
 
 " Yes, mauma ; I know what pleases him. I'll do that. I'll string 
 my hair with jasmines, I'll wear the dresses he likes best, 1 11 sing! 
 
230 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 I shall lead his blessed feet over roses. You know, ma chcre, that 
 my father was the French consul. I have high blood, and our 
 children, Fred's and mine, will inherit blue blood — Carolina 
 blood J " 
 
 " De blood of all people's de same to our great Maker. De blue 
 blood be man's dewice ! You soul know mo' dan we poor slabe. 
 You talk 'bove we all. Soun' like de white missus, dead an' gone. 
 Come back, birdie, once mo' in de silber light ! De angel mus' be 
 hoi* dere breat', to look on you dis night ! " 
 
 Stepping forward, Minnie dropped on her knees in the light, 
 saying,— 
 
 " Bless me, mauma ! Bless your poor birdie ! " 
 
 The shriveled hands of the old prophetess folded reverently 
 above white roses and curls — the turbaned head dropped over all. 
 On the dewy stillness of the night, this petition floated up among 
 the stars. 
 
 " De Blessed Marser take one mo' lamb widin him lubbin fold I 
 De good Lord feed dis tender blossom wid de sunlight ! De dear 
 Jesus keep dis precious heart in de holler ob Him han' ! " 
 
 CHAPTER Xni. 
 
 BOYS 1 " 
 No reply. 
 
 ''Boys 1 " 
 
 Not a sound. The gray light of dawn straggled down the steep, 
 narrow stairway, boarded on both sides, and leading out of Farmer 
 Buddinsrton's kitchen. The farmer stood there in his clean, white 
 shirt sleeves, holding the chamber door open with one large, sun- 
 browned hand. His bronzed face was turned upwards, and 
 shaded by a straw hat as bronzed as himself. His pantaloons were 
 rolled up above bare feet and ankles, weather-browned, also. He 
 had been out in the dew, beading the tall grass; out to the old 
 well-sweep, drawing tubs of water for the early washing, already 
 commenced by his busy wife. Now, he had just come in from the 
 barn — from the care of his horses and cattle. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 23 1 
 
 Not a shade of vexation could be seen on his face, as he lis- 
 tened for a response ; but a look of regretful affection settled upon 
 it, in the dim light of the low, half-story window, above. He called 
 in louder, but gentler tones, — 
 
 " Thad ! Alfy ! Come ! Connecticut boys must be stirring before 
 sunrise — growing late. Texas! Texas, is the watchword this 
 week ! Come, my men ! Be down in a giffy." 
 
 " Texas ! Texas ! " echoed enthusiastically from above. " Yes, 
 father ! we're coming ! " 
 
 "I'm going back to the barn. Come out there, when you're 
 ready. Don't let the sun beat you, and get there first ! " 
 
 There was much scrambling, a good deal of sleepy funning, sev- 
 eral rounds of brotherly pugilism, and boyish laughter ; then two 
 pairs of bare feet bounded down stairs, through the kitchen, out on 
 the dewy greensward, across the broad, sandy road that wound 
 around the house, and over the hard, narrow path to the barn. 
 Both entered the open doors, at the same moment — one in a som- 
 ersault, the other in a long jump to the middle of the floor. 
 
 " Father, we're here ! What shall we do first ? We've beat the 
 sun ? " 
 
 " All right ! go clean down the horses, then bring in the pails of 
 milk j at breakrast, I will tell you the rest. Thad, make 'em shine. 
 There's a lady in the bargain to-day !" 
 
 Mrs, Buddington's kitchen was an inviting place for breakfast. 
 It was long and spacious, looking towards the west, over a narrow 
 brook valley, and green meadows, to neighboring heights, whose 
 crown of orchards leaned agamst the sky. The well-scoured floor 
 was neatly sanded. The oaken table, white as rubbing could make 
 it, was drawn into the centre of the room ; with the usual dishes 
 for the need of a farmer, who lived ten miles from the town market. 
 There were slices of sweet home-packed pork, fried to a crispy 
 brown, a pile of large mealy potatoes, with bursting jackets, fresh 
 eggs, a plate of fried apples, and, waiting on the stone hearth by 
 the broad fireplace, a nicely covered nappy of wheaten doughnuts, 
 hot, crisp, and brown. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Buddington, Thad and Alf, seated themselves at 
 table, with folded hands, and bent heads, for the words of grace ; 
 after which, conversation on the morning's plans commenced. Mr. 
 
232 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Buddington never manifested a glum, or morose spirit at home. 
 He was genial and companionable in his family. His boys were 
 encouraged to offer frankly, suggestions on all subjects; however 
 wise, crude, or boyish their ideas might be, the father listened, and 
 kindly corrected. His wife was not a drooping flower, crushed 
 under a master's foot, speaking only when it might be mercifully 
 raised. She shared in conversation as an equal partner in affairs, 
 laughed heartily, pelted her husband with mother wit ; and often 
 remonstrated on certain objectionable courses ; throwing her re- 
 proving glances full upon his own, without the slightest dash of 
 anger on his part, and without the abused, hang-dog look assumed 
 by so many men, from whom the wife dares to differ. 
 
 " Thad, this is the morning to go for the tailoress ; but I find the 
 wagon has loosened a tire. What is to be done now .'' " said the 
 father. 
 
 "Likewise the roll of cloth is to be brought from the pulling-mill, 
 for the tailorers to cut and make up," added the mother. Her iron 
 goose, and press-board are to be brought, also. There's a riddle 
 for you to solve, Thad," she continued, casting a sly glance at 
 the father. 
 
 Alfy, a boy not yet in his teens, hurried to say, — 
 
 " You can ride horseback, Thad, and bring the cloth. 
 
 Yes ! I can take a long sack over the saddle, put the cloth on 
 one side, and the goose and press-board on the other to balance. 
 Ned won't flare up at that ! " declared Thad, resting a hand each 
 side of his plate, and holding knife and fork erect in the air ; as if 
 to dissect the quandary. 
 
 "Bayonets fixed! 'Gainst the rules! Look at your knife and 
 fork I " said Alf, playfully clashing his own fork against them. 
 
 " The cloth, and other articles are all right," said the farmer ; 
 "but where will you put the tailoress? in the sack too, or in your 
 pocket, Thad ? " 
 
 This caused general merriment. Alfy laughed till he cried. 
 
 "Here is a better way ; " continued the father, smiling. "You 
 ride 'Lone Star' and lead *Ned.' Go for the lad v first. She will ride 
 him back, and you will ride ' Ned,' calling at the mill, on your 
 return. The first part of the arrangement is right, as you pro- 
 posed." 
 
White may, and black june. 233 
 
 Alf didn't believe she could ride "Lone Star;" "for he always 
 danced sideways, and reared up, so." 
 
 " Oh, yes, Aliy, she can ride ' Lone Star ! ' " said his mother, 
 smiling. " Filette Snow can sit upon any horse. I have seen her 
 ride her brother's stallion, 'Fire-fly,' which very few men can man- 
 age, and she sat him as easy as a lark in a tree." 
 
 "I saw her too, mother ! " cried Tbad. " She looked like Queen 
 Elizabeth, reviewing her army, in my English history." 
 
 " True, my son, she did," said Mr. Buddington, approvingly. 
 
 Breakfast over, the house was left to its busy mistress. Alfy 
 went up the road, betv/een its wide borders of green, singing "Yan- 
 kee Doodle " to the brindled cows which he followed to pasture. 
 Thad guided ' Lone Star," his father walking beside him, to the 
 stone at the kitchen door, to say ' good-bye' to his mother, and to 
 catch her look of pride, as he rode away. She came at his call, 
 her sleeves rolled to her elbows ; and exclaiming, — 
 
 O Thaddeus the Great, on his charger ! Look out for those 
 white feet ! There's mischief in them, sometimes ! " 
 
 " That's so, Thaddeus. Keep cool my boy ; handle him gently. 
 Don't get his blood up. Good-morning." 
 
 The sun tipped the tree tops, " Lone Star's " ears, and Thad's 
 hat, as they traveled up the brown road between the velvet strip 
 of turf, fringed with alders and yellow birches. 
 
 In due time, tramping hoofs drew Mrs. Buddington's attention 
 to the door. She was just in time to see the proud horse, and his 
 female rider sweep around the corner, followed close at her heels 
 by Thad, with the tailoress' implements. The farmer's wife 
 clapped her hands, and showered all manner of appellations upon 
 the rosy rider still seated on the mettlesome animal. 
 
 "Hey day, Gipsey ! Mrs. John Gilpin! take a turn up the road. 
 Let me see you ride, you winged Mercury. Dear me ! If we had 
 a match for ' Lone Star ' — your brother's ' Fire-fly, say — I'd 
 mount, and we two would scour Connecticut's hills and valleys, 
 till the good staid people should think the witches were out. Yes, 
 and they'd tie us to some sacred post somewhere, and whip us 
 along with the beer barrels that work on Sunday." 
 
 The ludicrous ideas of either supposition, caused her healthy 
 echoing laughter to ring out on the morning air, till it reached the 
 
 \ 
 
234 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 hill-orchards over the narrow brook valley. There, the apple- 
 gatherers, holding the golden, red and russet fruit in hand, paused 
 on their ladders and baskets, to look over to Farmer Buddington's 
 yard, where Filette was still wanted. A reflection of mirthful 
 happiness touched their faces. They v*^atched the group around 
 the door ; and when she reined her horse suddenly round to 
 gratify Mrs. Buddington, they saw him rear and paw the air, they 
 saw her whip come down smartly on his shining haunches, saw 
 him shake his mane and come down to his work, galloping around 
 the corner with her little page, Thad, at her heels. Apples 
 dropped ; men, women, girls and boys, clapped hands lustily. 
 
 They waited for her return ; for country neighbors divine their 
 neighbor's movements. They saw her darting like a shuttle, 
 between the alders and birches, north of the house, and then his 
 curved neck and white feet came slowly back round the house to 
 the step-stone. Filette sprang to the ground. The fruit-gatherers 
 cheered her again, and the unbroken air waves brought the sound 
 to the house. Filette took off her bonnet, and swung it by the 
 strings. Mrs. Buddington made a signal flag of her apron, and 
 swung it aloft. Thad emptied the sack, and threw it above his 
 head. Farmer Buddington arrived just in time, from an adjoining 
 potato field, to join the pleasant pantomime. He sent the lus- 
 cious roots which he bad brought for dinner, rolling on the 
 ground, and threw the basket to the house-eaves, several times. 
 Wherefore, the apples on the hill, contrary to the philosophy of 
 Sir Isaac Newton, gravitated upwards against the sky, in crimson 
 and yellow gleams, till the party entered the kitchen door. 
 
 Filette caught up the roll of cloth, and entered the north 
 room, where a table was already cleared for cutting. The 
 farmer followed, to be measured for a whole suit, to be finished 
 " this week." He said, — 
 
 " Can you accomplish it ? " 
 
 "Of course she can with my help !" said his wife. "We have 
 worked together before. My washing is long ago on the line, and 
 my cupboards are full of pies and cakes." 
 
 " You are a ' gude wife,' my ain dearie, and I must set you on a 
 richer soil than these hard Connecticut lands. So you see, Miss 
 Snow," turning to the tailoress, " I am off for Texas on Monday, 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 235 
 
 one week from this morning. I must have these clothes to wear. 
 Now I shall be over on the next field, at work j when there is 
 any trying on to do, wife, call me." 
 
 Then began in earnest the sponging, cutting, basting and press- 
 ing. The hot iron goose hissed and fizzed along the wet seams 
 on the press-board. Filette handled it with the same dexterity as 
 she had subdued the plunging, foaming " Lone Star." It was a 
 pleasant week for the two women. There were no peevish repin- 
 ings at the failure of romantic hopes, no tearful aspirations after 
 impossibilities. Both accepted the conditions of life. The old 
 farm-house was full of mirthful industry, health and common 
 sense. 
 
 When the work was cut and planned, there was time for other 
 thoughts. Filette said to Mrs. Buddington, — 
 
 " So your husband starts for Texas soon ? 
 
 " Next Monday." 
 
 " Will he go alone ? " 
 
 " No, his youngest brother, George Buddington, will accompany 
 him. He resides in Cloudspire, Massachusetts ; and will arrive 
 here Saturday night." 
 
 "Is It your wish to leave New England, and settle in that new 
 country ? " 
 
 "Not at all, personally; but I have the interests of others in 
 keeping, and what is for their benefit, should be my pleasure. My 
 husband has received glowing accounts of the cheapness of land, 
 and of the inviting soil and climate of Texas. His lungs are too 
 delicate for our severe winters also. Then he has the future 
 welfare of our sons in prospect. He thinks that after a life of 
 toil in New England by all of us, he shall have very little to 
 leave ihem, but the same entailed life of hardship as his own. 
 
 " Then he will buy and hold slaves, of course .'' " 
 
 " I expect that is one object. They are cheap now ; but when- 
 ever Texas is annexed to the States, they will increase fifty per 
 cent. Slavery has been my great objection to going. I do not 
 believe in enslaving human beings." 
 
 "Neither do I," replied Filette, looking up from a coat sleeve, 
 into which she was fitting the lining. I could never wrest the 
 hard earnings of others, to surround myself with comEort, and 
 
236 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 leave the toilers in destitution. Neither could I buy and sell 
 my fellow-creatures, the images of God, as so much merchandise." 
 
 " Do you think a Southerner would acknowledge that a negro 
 was the image of God ? You would fall out in the premises, at 
 the very first start." 
 
 " Very well, according to their own theology, none but the 
 images of God can have souls to save, and they evidently think 
 their slaves are possessed of that imperishable article ; for they 
 are beginning to show them a way to Heaven by various teachings 
 and preachings." 
 
 " Filette, you should hear our minister expatiate on slavery. 
 He says the African race was predestinated to Slavery, from the 
 foundation of the world. He advises Air. Buddington to go to 
 Texas, take up land, and buy slaves. He says they are as much 
 articles of commerce as any other means of wealth." 
 
 " I have made the acquaintance of the new minister." She said 
 this with a short, knowing nod of the head. " I have made the 
 acquaintance of Rev. Augustus Johns, from Hartford. I sewed at 
 the parsonage last week. His language and manners pointed to my 
 social inferiority. He may preach Christ crucified, but he cannot 
 preach to me Christ the living Exemplar. Its my opinion he 
 would m.ake a good slave-holder, himself, and handle the lash with 
 a relish." 
 
 " Would you express yourself so freely everywhere ? " laughingly 
 questioned Mrs. Buddington. 
 
 "Certainly, if called for. False ambassadors of Him who was 
 a pattern in all that is just and humane, are less to be revered than 
 truth is to be reverenced. His advice on emigration will prove a 
 snare, I think. ' If the blind lead the blind, both will fall into the 
 ditch.' I am not learned, but I must yield to the dictates of com- 
 mon sense, and the plain teachings of the simple life of our Savior, 
 so plain, that a wayfarer, ' though a fool, need not err therein.' " 
 
 " I sometimes think within myself," said Mrs. Buddington, " that 
 the church ' worship they know not what.' Not God, the omnipo- 
 tent, omniscient and omnipresent Deity, as a Being to be much 
 loved or much feared ; but in His stead, they substitute a round of 
 rites and mysticisms, which only stultify our moral natures." 
 
 "Those thoughts appear to me wise. And further, what is not 
 
WHITE MAY, AJ\D BLACK JUNE. 237 
 
 already obscure, they either forget, mystify or reverse. Here is 
 this straightforward command, ' sell all thou hast, and give to the 
 poor ;' which does not convey the idea that we sell the bodies and 
 souls of the poor, themselves — that we shall auction them to the 
 highest bidder, and put the price in our own pockets. Yet that 
 is the construction of the slave-holder, and of everyone who upholds 
 him." 
 
 Thus the day passed in pleasant dinners and teas, light discus- 
 sions, neighbor's evening calls, after the day's work was done ; and 
 in talking over the journey and future prospects. All agreed that 
 the farmer's life was a hard one ; but many preferred its honest 
 ways to the necessary cruelty attached to a slave-master's leisure. 
 
 The suit of clothes was finished on Saturday, by sunset. 
 Filette consented to remain over Sunday, to help on Mrs. Budding- 
 ton in preparations for her husband's departure ; to work on the 
 boj's' clothes the next week, as well as to relieve the approaching 
 loneliness. 
 
 Saturday afternoon. Squire George Buddington arrived from 
 Cloudspire. Young, handsome in figure, well dressed, with the 
 elasticity of hope and anticipation apparent in word and motion ; 
 he inspired the household with new faith in the venture, and new 
 vigor in its prosecution. On Sunday evening, which in those days 
 was the beginning of the working week, a company of friends, includ- 
 ing farmers of the vicinity and their sons, assembled by invitation, 
 to get new views of the settlement of Texas ; as George Budding- 
 ton had correspondence on the subject, and was to present infor- 
 mation at that time. 
 
 They gathered in the large kitchen. The floor had been recently 
 sanded ; the pleasant fire fizzed and crackled in the capacious fire- 
 place. The well-scoured oaken chairs were soon filled ; others, 
 smarter in paint and age, were brought in from various rooms. 
 Men of bronzed faces were they all. Old and young were mostly 
 clad in serviceable home-made cloth, spun and woven by their 
 wives and daughters. Their hands were hard and calloused, homely 
 to the eye, but true and kindly to the grasp. There were heads of 
 gray, and shoulders stooped with labor ; chestnut locks, and figures 
 of young, athletic strength. There were breasts enclosing the finest 
 sympathies of man's nature ; men who never goaded an ox without 
 
238 WHITE MAY, AND ELACK JUNE. 
 
 pain, and from whose hands their well-fed horses never felt a 
 stripe ; men who, if suddenly brought face to face with the terrible 
 scourging of the South, would have been appalled, and in a frenzy 
 of compassion for the victim, would have hurled the sanguinary 
 scourger to the stunning embrace of mother Earth. Yet these 
 same men, in the determined equanimity of a stern patriotism, 
 upheld the Constitution and its nest-egg, slavery. 
 
 They regarded the Constitution as the charter of American free- 
 dom ; the sacred instrument freeing them from oppressive royal 
 edicts, and too dearly purchased in the Revolutionary struggle to 
 admit confession of a blemish or suspicion of a fault. They 
 looked upon slavery as indigenous in cotton-growing districts — 
 sprouting into hydra-headed life with the germs of the cotton seeds 
 
 — and having a duration co-existent with the cultivation ot that 
 staple. 
 
 "I expect you will have warm weather there, without snow or 
 ice," said one of them addressing farmer Buddington. 
 
 " Yes. Crops are cultivated there all the year round, you might 
 say, there is no winter. Our grains grow there, besides many 
 tropical fruits." 
 
 '• I believe Mexico w^as loth to part with Texas for any price, " 
 said another ; " but the Southerners are in earnest, and when 
 Mexico wouldn't sell, they went over the border with their families 
 and slaves, and set up an independent State of their own." 
 
 " The South have made a splendid success, replied the Rev. 
 Mr. Johns, who had just dropped in. " Since the ' Boundary Treaty' 
 with Spain in 18 19, which made the Sabine river the western limit 
 of Louisiana; and since the 'Missouri Compromise' of 1820, pro- 
 hibiting slavery north of latitude thirty-six degrees, thirty minutes, 
 there was very little land left for the formation of new slave states 
 
 — not enough for more than two or three. With only this narrow 
 area left to it, slavery w^ould be doomed. In 1829, Mr. Poinsett, in 
 behalf of our government, offered Mexico five millions of purchase 
 money. She refused. He then proposed to loan Mexico ten mil- 
 lions, upon the pawning of Texas till repaid. He knew well that 
 Texas once pawned, it was ours ; for in the interim, the country 
 would have been filled with Anglo-Americans and slaves, and we 
 could have held it afterwards, in any event. That loan was a fail- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 239 
 
 ure. Next, he made efforts to obtain from the Mexican govern- 
 ment, a stipulation to return fugitive slaves ; for, you know 
 gentlemen, Mexico freed all her slaves in 1829. This was a 
 failure also. However, the South was resolved to possess Texas. 
 Numerous emigrants have settled upon the lands, carried their 
 slaves, and obtained control of the Legislature by a separation from 
 Coahuila. They have declared their independence, so that our 
 friends here, Mr. Buddington and brother, are leaving their own 
 country for a foreien government." 
 
 " I saw by the papers," said another, " that of the fifty-seven 
 signers of this Declaration of Independence, fifty were Southerners, 
 emigrants from the Soutliern States, and only three were native 
 Mexicans, and these three were greatly interested in Texan land 
 speculations, with companions in New York." 
 
 " I recollect that, likewise," replied the clergyman ; " and when 
 we of the North see men so resolute for their own interests, it cer- 
 tainly devolves upon us to render them all the aid in our power. 
 The bond of Union must be kept bright by these fraternal acts. 
 True, her independence is gained and acknowledged by the United 
 States ; but every Northen emigrant will swell the vote for annexa- 
 tion." 
 
 "Annexation has been already proposed to our Government," 
 replied Squire Buddington ; " and although the proposition seems 
 not to have been favorably received at Washington, we all under- 
 stand that annexation is the Texan ulti?7tatu7n. As to the ability 
 of Texas to maintain her assumed independence, there is no doubt 
 about secret assistance being rendered from the States, in arms, 
 ammunition and men. Our Government would wink at such clan- 
 destine support to Texas, and bid it God speed." 
 
 " I understand," said the Rev. Johns, " if the Texans need pro- 
 tection, they will have it. They had it before their independence, 
 which was gained by contributions and enlistments in the States. 
 There was bloody work there then, between Houston and Santa 
 Anna." 
 
 A young man, sitting silently by himself and leaning awkwardly 
 upon the white oaken table, had fixed his admiring eyes at the first 
 entrance, upon the younger Buddington and his fine broadcloth. 
 After plunging his fingers several times into the short, sandy curls 
 
240 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 about his ears, and impatiently throwing one knee over the other, 
 offered a question to his notice. 
 
 " Will you inform me, sir, what first called your attention to a 
 removal to that country .'* " 
 
 " With pleasure. jNIy attention was called to Texas, by a Cloud- 
 spire friend in my own State, who has become a citizen of South 
 Carolina. Then, my brother here, has had an uphill course since his 
 marriage. The mortgage still rests upon his farm ; some change 
 is necessary for him. I am young, and desire to invest where 
 something more than New England profit will accrue. This friend, 
 Mr. Steele, advised Texas, and sent papers containing Southern 
 views." 
 
 " Would you read some of those views, if you have the papers 
 with you ? " asked a tall, spare, deep-voiced man by the stairway. 
 
 George brought forward a bundle of Southern papers, and read 
 aloud numerous extracts. He remarked, also, that Benton of Mis- 
 souri, a few years ago, over the signature of " Americanus," wrote a 
 series of essays on the importance of Texas, and the necessity of 
 its acquisition. He advocated and enlarged upon Benton's asser- 
 tion, that " one of the evils resulting from the retrocession of that 
 country to Mexico, is that it brings a non-slave-holding empire in 
 juxtaposition with the slave-holding South." 
 
 He selected a Baltimore paper, commenting on the essays of 
 '* Americanus," and read, — 
 
 " One of the reasons he assigns for the purchase of Texas is, 
 that five or six more slave-holding States may thus be added to the 
 Union. Indeed, he goes farther than this in one of his calculations, 
 and estimates that nine more states as large as Kentucky, may be 
 formed within the limits of that province." 
 
 " You perceive, gentlemen," explained the clergyman, " that 
 Benton's first calculation w^ould give the South twelve more sena- 
 tors ; and in case Texas should be cut into nine States, eighteen 
 more senators. This course is absolutely necessary, according to 
 Calhoun's theory, ' to preserve the balance of power ' to the South ; 
 that our national legislation may not be one-sided and thus dis- 
 member the Union ; for the maintenance of the Union gentlemen," 
 with an emphatic gesture of his arm, " is the only safety of our 
 Republic." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 24I 
 
 *' It is also necessary on our part," remarked the bass voice of 
 the first speaker, " to resist the encroachments of the abolition 
 party, for one section of our country should not override the 
 other." 
 
 "Never was a truer word spoken," said Squire Buddington ; "but 
 my brother James and I must leave you Northern men to deal with 
 the villanous abolitionists. We are going to another country, where 
 Judge Lynch hangs them to the nearest tree. We shall labor for a 
 larger representation of Southern interests in the Senate, by annex- 
 ation. Mr. Johns," turning to the clergyman, "your opinions coin- 
 cide exactly with the sentiments of a Charleston paper in the 
 package sent me by Mr. Steele." 
 
 He selected it, strode to the fireplace, and read by the light of 
 two candles on the the high mantel, — 
 
 "The acquisition of the vast territory of Texas, is denominated, 
 *an enterprise which could not fail to exercise an important and 
 favorable influence upon the future destinies of the South, by in- 
 creasing the votes of the slave-holding States in the United States 
 Senate.' " 
 
 Flattered by this distinguished coincidence, the ecclesiastical 
 countenance brightened ; and he proceeded further to air, pom- 
 pously, his intimate study of Texan affairs. 
 
 " Squire Buddington, you will not be disgusted by the poverty, 
 ignorance, and crime of free negroes in your adopted residence, 
 which I should consider an agreeable relief. The Texan Constitu- 
 tion dooms to perpetual bondage, 'every negro, and every mulatto, 
 now, or in future, remaining on the soil ! ' The friendly offices of 
 no Colonization society will be needed there, to remove such nui- 
 sances from the country ! " 
 
 Farmer Walton, who owned a small number of acres in the west 
 part of the town, and who sat leaned in his chair against the jamb, 
 with gravely-folded arms, here threw more light upon this deter- 
 mined seizure of adjacent territory from a friendly power, by pre- 
 senting one more Southern motive of self interest. lie observed 
 that j\Ir. Gholson of the Virginia legislature in 1832, announced, 
 " that the acquisition of Texas would raise the value of slaves fifty 
 per cent at least ! " 
 
 " That was natural," replied Mr. Johns. " Virginia is a slave- 
 
242 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 breeding state, and these new cotton and cane fields open a fine 
 market for her peculiar productions." 
 
 "The Southern States are a unit, in whatever policy they pro- 
 pose ! " said the deep voice by the stairway. 
 
 The young man reclining on the oaken table again ran his 
 fingers through his sandy curls ; his eyes fixed upon the squire 
 while speaking. He thought it an unsafe experiment for a married 
 man to settle among such a mixed population of Southerners — 
 negroes, Mexicans and Indians. He thought young-married women 
 would need constant protection, amid such lawlessness ! His dear 
 Jane Sophy, whom he had just ruthlessly plucked from a neighbor- 
 ing family, and made his own especial property, troubled his mind. 
 He was thinking how pitifully she looked after him, at his sunset 
 
 parting. 
 
 James Buddington, who understood matters, knowingly an- 
 swered, — 
 
 "You see, Tim, we don't take our wives there. George has none, 
 and mine must stay with the boys. But you come out to Texas 
 when I get my farm of two or three thousand acres. I"ll sell you 
 a square close to my house, to build a ranch for Jane Sophy, if 
 you'll bring her along ! " 
 
 These rays from a dark lantern illuminated Tim's suggestion. 
 The whole company indulged in a vociferous round of pleasantries. 
 
 "There's no trouble," said a short, square-built member of the 
 church, by the buttery door ; " no trouble, if when you go among the 
 Romans, you do as the Romans do 1 Them slave-holders are fiery 
 fellers, but don't hurt anybody that thinks as they do." 
 
 " Right ! There can be no cause of apprehension, when one fol- 
 lows that aphorism," said the clergyman, walking stifHy up and 
 down the sanded floor ; meanwhile slowly buttoning up his fine 
 black coat. " Tim ! better sell out here, and migrate \vith these 
 gentlemen. Buy slaves, advocate ' Southern Rights,' help hang the 
 abolitionists, and your domestic happiness will be as safe in Texas, 
 as it would be in the snows of Lapland 1 " 
 
 Thad and Alf brought tumblers, and the pitcher of cider. The 
 Rev. Mr. Johns proposed prayer before parting ; in which brill- 
 iant effort he took occasion to inform the Deity that He had 
 made a world full of sinners, for His own glory ; that He had ex- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 243 
 
 alted this Nation ; that the inexpressible beauty of American 
 Freedom mio^ht be an exemplar to the extremes of the earth. He 
 finally demanded of Divine favor, the perpetuity of its Institutions 
 — a signal blessing on the present national effort, to extend our 
 peculiar civilizing influences. Especially did he implore God's 
 blessing to attend the steps of His two servants, who, in the jour- 
 ney about to be undertaken, would further cement the fraternal 
 bond of union between distant sections. He closed by invoking 
 rich lands, flocks and herds, abundant crops, and increasing pros- 
 perity to all within their tropical gates. 
 
 They gathered around Farmer Buddington, proffered good wishes 
 and grave good-byes,— for he was beloved by his neighbors. The 
 smoke of his chimney was a pleasant landmark in their busy 
 goings to and fro. 
 
 One shook his hand, and said encouragingly, — 
 
 " Well, neighbor, I suppose you will be picking strawberries 
 next January, when I am shovelHng snow-drifts in great-coat and 
 mittens." 
 
 "And digging potatoes in February," added another close by. 
 
 The short, broad-shouldered Roman shook hands roughly, and 
 corrected the others. 
 
 " Buddington will not dig potatoes any more, nor pick straw- 
 berries, nor reap in the hot sun. His negroes will do all that, 
 while he will sit in the shade of his orange groves." 
 
 Rev. Mr. Johns, who had been speaking with the ladies, joined 
 them. 
 
 "His cattle will in a few years be counted by hundreds. Like 
 Isaac, he will have 'possession of flocks, possession of herds, and 
 great store of servants.' He will not be forced to arise in icy 
 mornings, before dawn, to feed the cattle in their stalls. They 
 will run untended, over his broad grassy plains, all the year 
 round ! " 
 
 There was a little side scene. The sandy curls were very near 
 the younger Buddington. He assured the latter, that in a short 
 time he should join him. Says he, — 
 
 "I am married now, and if Jane Sophy finds it agreeable to emi- 
 grate, I shall emigrate. I am glad to make your acquaintance ; 
 for I should not like to set her down in an unprotected home." 
 
244 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Rev. Mr. Johns shook hands last ; bidding them remember, — 
 
 *' We all have one Countr)-, one Constitution, one God." Suc- 
 cessively the wagons rattled away. 
 
 Candles glided about Farmer Buddington's north and south 
 room, long before day. One medium-sized seal-skin trunk was 
 sufficient for both ; moreover, it could be conveniently carried 
 between them, in changing from stage-coaches to boats, or other 
 conveyances. 
 
 While sitting at the table for the last time, the husband and 
 father gave some directions, yet unsaid. 
 
 " Drive the cows down the hill, to the rowen meadow, to-morrow, 
 Alfy. Dig the potatoes faithfully, boys. Take good heed of aM 
 mother's command's. Be kind to Ned, feed him well, and treat 
 him well. Uncle George will ride ' Lone Star ' to town, to day, 
 and leave him. He is sold. You boys will ride with me in the 
 wagon that carries the trunk to the Red Tavern ; the stage stops 
 there." 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Buddington tasted very little of that morning's 
 repast. They exchanged no sentimentality. Each heart felt the 
 pain of the other, and silently bore its own. New thoughts, and 
 strange, flitted in and out of Filette's mind all that day; thoughts 
 not quite in accord with the general sadness. A long lingering 
 clasp of a hand, thrilled her yet. A pair of hazel eyes haunted 
 her in the dairy, in the kitchen, in the orchard. If she turned 
 her glance up the lonely, green-bordered road, a young, handsome 
 horseman seemed vanishing from sight, — seemed turning back 
 to her, like a sweet memory, and waving a phantom adieu. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE toilet of the octaroon was receiving the finishing touches 
 from her own hands. She was yet alone. A soft rustle 
 filled the pretty apartment, as she turned this way and that, in 
 order to bring every part of her gauzy dress under inspection, in 
 the deep, oval mirrors ; and as she turned to the open boxes 
 about j choosing a trinket here, a jewel there, a necklace, and a 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 245 
 
 bracelet, to fasten about her neck, or arms, as the slippered feet 
 stole across the carjDet for a spray of pinken roses and buds, to 
 fasten in the Grecian fall of curls, gathered at the back of her 
 head, and as she parted the tangled profusion about her forehead. 
 
 The last effort was upon the broad, pink sash, that girdled her 
 waist, and fell in waves nearly to her feet. Then flowers, jewels 
 and laces were gathered quickly into their repositories, and a 
 general survey of the room was taken, a few rapid steps, a few 
 subtle motions of her hands about the curtains, vases and fresh- 
 cut flowers, and she dropped into a velvet arm-chair, as if awaiting 
 the coming of another. 
 
 Not a fleck of dust could be seen upon the solid mahogany 
 furniture, not a thread or fibre upon the lily- strewn carpet. And 
 while her left hand dallied with the fragrant bouquet, on a marble 
 stand beside her, her right involuntarily sought her heart, crush- 
 ing the light fluting above it, in an agonized pressure. In place of 
 the radiant countenance reflected from the mirror, a sudden mel- 
 ancholy weighed upon her lids, till they concealed the dark eyes 
 shrouded in sorrow. Her watchful ear caught the sound of steps 
 upon the staircase, the right hand dropped by her side, a stifled 
 groan, a despairing glance upward, and she approached the open- 
 ing door. 
 
 The visitor paused upon the threshold with gratified surprise, 
 exclaiming, — 
 
 "Superb! Pauline ! charming!" 
 
 The old joy flitted back into her eyes ; with a tender smile, as 
 she led him to a seat, she said, — 
 
 "You are suffering from the heat. Let me stir the air." 
 
 She took the elegant fan which he had brought her on his last 
 trip to New York, and stood by him, fanning slowly. 
 
 One could not easily recognize in that tall, handsomely dressed 
 figure, the coarsely clad and turbaned slave-woman, who came up 
 the walk but an hour previous. 
 
 " Sit down, Pauline," said her visitor, at the same time taking 
 her hand and drawing her down upon the sofa. " You have stood 
 at the ironing table all day. Where is your mistress?*' 
 
 " Gone to the dinner, sir. The carriage left before I did." 
 
 " Did old Jake, the gardener, give you those flowers without 
 
246 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 trouble ? " pointing to the bouquet on the table. " Bring them 
 
 nearer." 
 
 "He said he 'shouldn't cut no flowers for me; but he 'spects 
 marse must have his way.' " 
 
 " What about Zoti and her mistress, to-day ? Where is the girl 
 now ? " 
 
 " She has had several cuts across her shoulders with the cow- 
 hide. She is resting now on my bed at home. O master ! Zoe is 
 but a wreck of her former self." 
 
 " Pauline, can you not remember ? Do not call me master again 
 in this room. The cursed word has a scorpion's sting." 
 
 " Pardon, its not the heart, but the tongue which disobeys." 
 
 " But Pauline, you know as well as I, that in this retreat there is 
 no master, no slave. It is the unconquerable love of years that 
 draws me like a magnet to this room and to you." 
 
 " It is true," she said as she raised his fair hand to her lips, and 
 then retaining it, continued. " Heaven forbid that I ever again 
 thus wound or displease." 
 
 "Were there any threats for Zoe to-day ? " 
 
 "Yes, she has been told that she will be sold as a plantation 
 hand, to hoe and pick cotton in the burning sun." 
 
 She pressed the unresisting hand more closely, slid down from 
 the sofa to the carpet, at his feet, and on her knees, raised her tear- 
 ful eyes to his. 
 
 " Oh ! remove this terrible dread from my heart. Tell me you 
 will not sell our daughter, our beautiful Zoe." 
 
 " God knows the answer would be no, if it could be avoided." 
 
 " Why not. Colonel Mowndes ? why not .? " 
 
 Sobbing and half fainting, she bowed her head upon his knee. 
 He rested his hand on her dark curls and said in petulant sor- 
 row, — 
 
 " Pauline, you do not seem to understand my position. If you 
 will but consider, a wife and daughter demand her sale, inexorable 
 public sentiment demands it, opposing fates compel." 
 
 " But Zoe is of your blood. Zoe is your daughter. She pos- 
 sesses the same lofty, untamed spirit as yourself. She curses the 
 day of her birth. She curses her terrible destiny. In her sleep, 
 she alternately weeps, curses and prays. Now I ask you, her 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 247 
 
 father, what will she become on the auction block ? Oh, listen ! 
 Zoe will be a raving maniac, bereft of reason, love and all the 
 attractions of her charming girlhood. Is not the punishment suffi- 
 cient, to be thrust from Grace's room among the kitchen pots and 
 to be made a scullion .-* " 
 
 Colonel Mowndes raised the suppliant and placed her in the arm- 
 chair, took from the side-board a glass of wine, and held it to her 
 lips. 
 
 "Drink, Pauline, drink present strength." 
 
 After a few moments of thought, he began, — 
 
 "Do not upbraid me! Do not imagine there is no heartache 
 for me, in this matter. I am the victim of the horrid gnome of 
 Slavery, which broods over our land like a vampire. Zoe must be 
 sold. Let us settle all preliminaries to-night, with mutual conces- 
 sions, if need be. I will save her from plantation cruelty. Can 
 you not find a purchaser.? " 
 
 "Let me show you, my dear colonel," she said, raising one im- 
 ploring hand. "There is a gentleman here in Charleston from 
 Mississippi, who knew her before her hair was cut, and before she 
 wore the coarse Osnaburg suit in the kitchen. He professed to 
 love her, promised to make her his true and honorable wife, if you 
 would sell her to him. I did not give it a passing thought. How 
 could I part with my proud Zoe.? How could I speak of selling 
 from my sight that lovely blossom of my life, and yours ? " She 
 wrung her hands in agony, and with stifled moans, then con- 
 tinued, — 
 
 " Perhaps he will buy her now. Their mutual love will heal the 
 wound of separation." 
 
 Has Zoe an attachment for this man.? What is his name ? '' 
 
 "I believe she has, but she bravely cast it aside for me, and you, 
 and Miss Grace. His name is Sillton." 
 
 The colonel spoke soothing!}^, — 
 
 " My poor Pauline I try to be calm and brave. Ordinarily, she 
 would be sold from the yard, but as it is, my family will send her 
 to the auction table. A sale day occurs day after to-morrow. 
 Meantime manage to see Sillton." 
 
 " And if he buys my Zoe, where will she stay then, till he goes 
 back to Mississippi?" 
 
248 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "After dark, she can come here. I will give you a pass to visit 
 Zoe early, in the jail ; but instead, you can come here, and prepare 
 to meet her." 
 
 "And I will divide my clothing with her, that she may appear 
 lady-like, as she was accustomed." 
 
 "No, Pauline, not your clothes. I shall purchase a handsome 
 ward- robe for her, myself. You shall have the pleasure of helping 
 her make it up, here, in your own apartment." 
 
 " I cannot do that, I have to attend to the fine ironing of Miss 
 
 Grace." 
 
 "True, Pauline; but you can do what I propose — you shall do 
 that ! I shall profess at home that your presence in the yard irri- 
 tates me — that I will hire you out for ten dollars per month. So 
 you will come here, and be always ready to welcome me. These 
 apartments are so remote from my residence that you will not be 
 discovered. Alphonsc Wallace, Leonore Wallace's brother, will 
 give you kitchen room. I own this house, and he hires of me. We 
 are on the best of terms ; and his boy will do your marketing. I 
 cannot spare you to go with Zoe. I want you myself. Cheer up, 
 now. Zoe may have an independent home of her own. You will 
 hold intercourse by letters, telling each all about the other. No 
 thanks, if you please. Bring wine and fruit from the sideboard. I 
 am weary with all this planning. It is an uncommon stroke of ex- 
 ertion on my part." 
 
 Pauline's face grew bright at his kindness and pleasantries. 
 
 *'It is my turn to revive now;" and he threw himself upon the 
 lounge. 
 
 His departure was made at a late hour. 
 
 "■ I shall go to the dinner," he said. 
 
 "My pass! Colonel Mowndes, have you forgotten it?" She 
 hastily placed pen and paper. He wrote and folded it. Pauline 
 pressed the pass to her lips, went with her master to the stairway, 
 and waved him good night. 
 
 Left alone, the trying future flashed vividly before her. Pau- 
 line's handsome features grew rigid with the great pain that 
 weighed upon her thoughts. 
 
 '' h bond slave!" she ejaculated, as she turned away, and 
 threw herself in turn upon the sofa. '' A bond slave forever ! 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 249 
 
 Colonel Mowndes loves me, I know. Yes, he has loved me from 
 boyhood; loves me without marriage! And his own lawful 
 marriage — what has it been ? but an outrage, a mockery. Thank 
 God, his wife knows it not ; and I, the helpless accomplice of her 
 wrongs. Am I guilty } Am I to be condemned for this love for 
 him, which is the only thing that makes my wretched life endur- 
 able ? What if I refuse to see him more ? The auction table v/aits 
 for me, and after that, what ? O God ! what .? To be owned, soul 
 and body, by a heartless being whom my souls abhors ; compelled 
 to drag out an existence to which death would be happiness. The 
 sin was in his marriage, for he gave his hand to wealth and blood, 
 after he had confided his heart to me. Blood, another mockery! 
 My blood is blue. The proudest and purest of three generations is 
 my inheritance ; and Zoe, poor, dear Zoe's is bluer still, and her 
 beauty more striking than her sister Grace's. Is it a sin to sell his 
 own blood .? Sin, O Jesus ! is't a sin ? Is there a/ijf sin, a/iy wrong ? 
 Is there any injustice in this church -going city.^" 
 
 A low, derisive laugh quavered through the chamber, succeeded 
 by hysterical sobbing which lasted till the bursting heart was re- 
 lieved. Then Pauline arose, slowly removed the ornaments, took 
 the rose-buds from her hair, folded the pink sash, hung the gauzy 
 dress in the wardrobe, and changed the pretty slippers for the 
 heavy, slip-shod shoes she wore in her master's kitchens. 
 
 A few moments more transferred the superb Pauline into the 
 coarsely clad laundress of Grace Alou'ndes. Again before the oval 
 mirror she bound the plaid turban closely across her forehead, tuck- 
 ing up every stray curl. She arranged her long Osnaburg apron, 
 caught up the precious pass, and glided into the darkness of the 
 street. 
 
 The day after to-morrow came. Carriages, horses and pedes- 
 trians choked the street in front of the slave- mart. Curses and 
 oaths mingled with the bustle and bidding. After several sales, 
 Zoe was brought forward. She sprang upon the long table with a 
 frenzied step, and walked up to the front, with the hunting stride 
 of a Diana; scanning sharply the bystanders as she went. She 
 still wore the badge of degradation to which Grace had condemned 
 her — the coarse dress of the scullion, and her short hair frizzed 
 wildly about her head. A hushed murmur of admiration ran 
 
250 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 through the brutal crowd. The auctioneer stepped forward, to ad- 
 vertise her claims to a profitable sale. 
 
 "Gentlemen," he cried, "here is a prinie article, young and 
 sound. There are, however, certain conditions to the sale. This 
 fine piece of flesh must become a plantation worker. She will be 
 sold lower for that reason, as there will be some loss in breaking 
 her in." 
 
 Defiance flashed from Zoe's dark eyes, as she sought earnestly 
 amons: the sea of sensual faces turned towards the table. The 
 bidding ran low from the conditions of sale. Two men, standing 
 against the wall at the right, held a rapid consultation. One of 
 low statue, prominent shoulders and humped, distorted spine, gazed 
 up intently into the face of the other. 
 
 " Bid eleven hundred," said the taller. 
 
 " Bid for me, Mr. Steele," timidly requested the dwarf. The 
 other bent his head, saying, — 
 
 " It wouldn't do for me, Edmund. My wife, Lucy, might hear 
 of it from that dare-devil on the table, if you take her to the par- 
 sonage. Lucy's been South long enough to learn the ways. Bid 
 yourself, Stone. That girl's just what you want in your house. 
 She'd be an ornament and a companion for any clergyman ; just 
 what you want, Edmund. Bid." 
 
 "Eleven hundred dollars," said the dwarf. 
 
 " Eleven hundred," echoed the auctioneer. " A prime article ! 
 eleven hundred dollars, gentlemen ! Going ! going, gentlemen ! 
 going ! " 
 
 The previous bid was one thousand, from a person nearly hidden 
 by the crowd in front. At the sound of that voice, Zoe's eyes had 
 dropped, and a slight fiush suffused her cheek. Now she turned 
 exasperated tow^ards the standing place of the dwarf and his com- 
 panion. Her fair cheeks glowed, scarlet as the roses in her 
 father's garden. The blue veins of her white neck and temples 
 swelled with a sudden tumult of emotion. She extended her small, 
 white hands, exclaiming, — 
 
 ^^ Not gohig, gentlemen 1 ?iot goin 
 
 /" 
 
 Turning her blazing look upon the reverend bidder, — 
 " Not going, incarnate fiend ! dwarfed representative of Satan ! 
 Do not delude yourself, that you will hold a blue-blooded daughter 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 25 1 
 
 of South Carolina to do your bidding ! These feet will never walk 
 the furrows of a cotton -field. These hands will never hold a hoe." 
 
 She took one tragic step forward, lifted a menacing arm and fin- 
 ger upward and cried, — 
 
 " No, by the great White Throne of the Almighty God ! No, 
 buy me at your peril ! I'll cut this white throat before your eyes ! 
 I'll give this hunted spirit back to its rightful Owner, to Him who 
 has no room for it on earth. Hear ! ye cursed wretches ! hear ? " 
 
 A sort of terror fell insensibly upon auctioneer and buyers. 
 
 She went on. 
 
 " One man alone is present who shall pay a price for me. That 
 one already posesses my heart. He has offered one thousand. 
 Dare not, you devils, to outbid him, or I swear by the Savior of 
 men, that you will pay for a lifeless corpse ! " 
 
 She stood dauntless and defiant, panting with excitement. Co- 
 lonel Mowndes at that moment crossed the opening in front of the 
 table, and disappeared. He had heard his daughter's terrible 
 words. A folded paper was passed to the auctioneer. 
 
 During the momentary hush of his reading the note, the heroic 
 crisis of Zoe's exaltation was passing. The appalling degradation 
 of her situation smote her fragile nature to a tottering sense of ut- 
 ter friendlessness and abandonment. Through tears, her grieving 
 eyes sought the one face, on which she cared to read her fate. It 
 was still there, pale and anxious, with his tender eyes fixed upon 
 her. His white handkerchief clandestinely waved an "All right" 
 to her inquiring gaze. The vender of God's images brought his 
 hammer with violence upon the table. 
 
 " Sold ! " he cried. '' Bring on old David. " 
 
 The summer sunset of that evenino: was arraved in all its South- 
 ern glory. The skies over Charleston burned crimson, to the 
 zenith. A broad path of shimmering rose stretched across the 
 Ashley, from the low shores of its farther side to the city. A de- 
 licious violet haze filled every street and court and alley, enwrap- 
 ping roofs and spires in a memory of the Orient. The whole city 
 was out, enjoying its unrivalled beauty, crossing and re-crossing the 
 bright streets, or vanishing in their purple shade. 
 
 Zee sat upon the floor, in a dim room of the jail, amid a hetero- 
 geneous mass of men, women, and children, from every part of the 
 
252 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 State — in all shades of color, and in every degree of squalor. Re- 
 gardless of the groans, tears, prayers and cursings around her, she 
 silently nourished the small fiame of hope kindling within her dark 
 destiny, and longed for the coming of the stars and her owner. 
 
 The apartment of Pauline was again lighted at an earlier hour 
 than usual. She was in reception dress. The same Grecian knot 
 of curls, with white jasmine and purple heliotrope, trailed from her 
 shapely head. She had chosen white muslin for her toilet, with a 
 brooch of amethyst, and a sash of the same hue. A side table, 
 spread with delicate china, over which Spring herself seemed to 
 have sprinkled bouquets of violets, giaced the occasion. Cold 
 meats, salads, fruits, and an ample iced loaf were concealed under 
 snowy napkins. She whiled away the tardy moments listening to 
 the laughter below of Alphonse Wallace and the dark woman he 
 had chosen, and to the noisy romping of his children. The ex- 
 pected guests arrived. Zoe, half clad in the soiled garments of 
 menial service, fell into the embrace of her mother. 
 
 "Saved, thank God!" cried Pauline. "The worst is over!" 
 She held Zoe from her, and pondering, exclaimed, "One sister, 
 dwelling in elegance — pampered with love and luxury! The 
 other, the more beautiful, sold in the shambles ! Jesus the Christ ! 
 let a curse follow those who cause these cruel distinctions ! Let 
 poverty and anguish be their final reward ! " 
 
 Gratefully Pauline thanked Mr. Sillton, and begged him to tarry 
 till she could remove those wretched rags from her child, and then 
 led her to the dressing-room. Caresses and words of endearment 
 interrupted the duties of the toilet. The shorn hair was laid in 
 short curls about the white brow and neck. A white muslin, shear 
 as mist, and finished with fine laces, flowed gracefully about her 
 tall form. A sash of white satin encircled her slender waist. The 
 soft drapery of the arms was looped to her shoulders with falling 
 sprays of white jasmine, and a knot of the same flowers was fast- 
 ened among the light puffings on her breast. White satin gaiters 
 encased the small ankles. 
 
 When these were brought forward, Zoe remonstrated; and 
 asked, — 
 
 "Whence come these beautiful articles.'"' 
 
 " Rained down, my child ! " answered Pauline, with a happy 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 253 
 
 laugh. She opened a small casket before Zoe's astonished eyes, 
 saying, " Raise your arm ! " and she clasped a bracelet of pearls 
 upon it. 
 
 " Splendid, dearie ! Now turn your head a wee bit for the ear- 
 rings — a match for the bracelet." 
 
 Upon leaving the dressing-room, Mr. Sillton rose, and advancing 
 to meet them, respectfully took the daughter's small white hand, 
 saying, — 
 
 " Allow me to compliment this surprising loveliness ! Do I ad- 
 dress an houri from the bowers of Paradise f " 
 
 Zoe's lids dropped, and their black silken fringes concealed 
 whatever of emotion stirred their loving depths. Her lips said, — 
 
 " I am your slave, sir." 
 
 " Voluntarily so ? " he asked. 
 
 "The slave can have no will — can cherish no preference. The 
 master wills — the slave obeys ! " 
 
 "Then, my adored, the master speaks ! " he continued with im- 
 passioned tenderness ; "Zoe, my darling Zoe ! I make you fiee ! " 
 
 He hastened to take from the marble table, beneath the fragrant 
 flowers from Colonel Mowndes' garden, a long silver box. On its 
 cover, in relief, was a dove making her nest among lilies. He pre- 
 sented it, saying, — 
 
 "Here are your free papers — the deed of 3'ourself -r- to have, 
 and to hold uncontrolled, the noblest, purest womanhood I have 
 ever met." 
 
 Dazed with doubt and joy, the full glory of her swimming eyes 
 lifted upon her rescuer. 
 
 " It cannot be ! Oh ! no ! " she said fainting, and making a spas- 
 modic effort for support, she swooned to the floor. Mr. Sillton 
 raised her to the sofa ; and Pauline, bathing the pale temples, 
 lavished every epithet of affection. 
 
 " Ah ! my beautiful ! hunted abused and crushed till reason, and 
 life itself are dethroned ! O Heaven ! Is there no mercy for the 
 oppressed.'* Is there no retribution for the oppressor.?" 
 
 Her lover sat in silent distress, chafing the cold hands, till sen- 
 sation returned. Then her languid eyes sought Pauline, with the 
 question, — 
 
 " Am I free } Dear mother, is it true ?" 
 
254 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "You are so! Be convinced ! " She opened the silver box, 
 took out the paper, and requested Mr. Sillton to read. 
 
 This he did ; adding, — 
 
 '' You are as free as 3'ou can be in South Carolina ; but you are 
 obliged to have a guardian, until you leave the state. I took upon 
 myself that office — an act which I deemed the most satisfactory to 
 you." 
 
 " You paid a thousand dollars for me ? " 
 
 " I did ; and the money has already been sent to Miss Grace 
 Mowndes. It was not one third of your value, as the market goes, 
 but it seems that Mrs. Mowndes desired the indulgence of jealousy 
 and revenue, more than monev. Colonel Mowndes has washed his 
 hands of the sale, as far as may be." 
 
 " Can I go out and in at my pleasure, without permission ? Can 
 I travel to Columbia, or Savannah, or New York, if I choose, with- 
 out a pass ? " 
 
 '•Your air of high-breeding and refinement, added to your fasci- 
 nating beauty, will be a sufficient passport beyond this locality, at 
 any time ; but to one recently freed from bondage, there might 
 possibly be treachery. I believe this kind of treachery is rife in 
 certain states. While I remain in Charleston, you cannot have a 
 fear, my beloved Zoe. You are as free as the white-winged bird 
 that soars into the blue vault of day. Your will is your own, you 
 can cherish and indulge preferences, as freely as any lady in the 
 land." 
 
 A delirium of delight lighted up her eager eyes, and flushed her 
 pale face. 
 
 ''Alas !" she asked, "how shall I find gratitude commensurate 
 with this surpassing favor ? What can I render for this inestimable 
 gift.-* Nothing, but my poor thanks ! " 
 
 "Thanks from those lips would be a large reward, but I will 
 venture to say, this miserable heart of mine would fain ask more. 
 It would seek a nearer relation than your lawful guardian by the 
 slave code of South Carolina. It solicits the gift of your hand, 
 prompted by the voluntary action of your love — for your hand in 
 a speedy and honorable marriage, that no scandal should assail the 
 purity of your new-found freedom, or mar the fame of your inherent 
 virtues." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 255 
 
 He walked up and down the room for some time, and returned. 
 Zoe rose, and without hesitation, laid her hand in his. 
 
 " Take it! " she said. •' Take this unworthy and dowerless hand j 
 and with it, the first possession I ever held — myself y 
 
 "My life shall attest my obligation for this happiness ! " he said, 
 and raised her hand to his lips. " Will my angel grant her peti- 
 tioner an early fulfilment of her generons promise.? Pauline, let 
 me entreat you to become my intercessor ! that this eventful day 
 may be consecrated by the holy ceremony, which will give me the 
 power to watch over, and protect our beloved Zoe, till death. I 
 will disembarrass you of the constraint of my presence, and give 
 time for considering my proposition." 
 
 Left alone, Pauline explained what she had learned from Mr. 
 Sillton during the day ; that his stay could be prolonged only one 
 week ; that although the laws of the state prohibited marriage be- 
 tween white and any sprung from the colored race, he had an inti- 
 mate friend, a clergyman, in the city, who would perform the cer- 
 emony privately, and that, beyond the narrow circle of Zoe's 
 acquaintance, no one would q'uestion her blue-blooded lineage. 
 
 "My dear Zoe," she continued, "you would not risk staying 
 here after he left. You would then be without a suitable protector. 
 You surely would accompany him, then t " 
 
 The sobbing girl threw her arms about her mother's neck, cry- 
 ing,— 
 
 "Am I to part from you so soon, and never to see you again .? O 
 mother ! this freedom brings with if heartache and bitterness of 
 soul ! " 
 
 "But consider, dear Zoe ! I am sure you are going to a happy 
 home. Mr. Sillton is a Northerner by birth, from Ohio. His 
 parents and other relatives are living there. As his wife, you will 
 visit them, and be received by every member of his family with 
 warm and welcoming love. Although I am left a slave, I shall 
 have comfort, yes, even luxury, and the steady, unfailing affection 
 of Colonel Mowndes. In a short time, I am to occupy this room 
 altogether; to rest and employ my time as I choose." 
 
 " But Colonel Mowndes may change, or he may die, leaving you 
 to the mercy of those two women. And God only knows what your 
 fate would be then ! " 
 
256 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "Let US hope for the best, my poor child. It is better that one 
 should be free, than that both should wear the millstone of slavery 
 about our necks. We shall write letters to each other, in which T 
 shall tell you all. The colonel will write for me, and receive yours. 
 He has promised that. 
 
 Now let us speak of yourself, dear Zoe. You know Mr. Sillton 
 left me to intercede for his marriage with you this evening. He 
 desires to shield you from every shadow of injustice and wrong. " 
 
 Zoe's face was suffused with a soft maiden blush. 
 
 "Why not delay my marriage till the end of the week? I have 
 not the wedding garments ; and what injustice and wrong can be iu 
 ambush for me now?" 
 
 '' We cannot tell, my darling. There is danger in the very air of 
 this city. An eleven hundred dollar bid was offered for you, and 
 you were destined for a cotton-field. Wliat if here, alone in this 
 room, one should enter with violence, seize your free papers, seize 
 you^ under cover of darkness, and hurry you out of the city, and put 
 you, helpless and friendless, into other shambles? Search your 
 memory and recall brown Margeret, who was sold to a young Ala- 
 bama planter for his unmarried wife. After two years he died ; and 
 he loved her so faithfully, that he gave her free papers, and made 
 arranszements that she should hold his house as her own. She, 
 ignorant and unsuspicious, returned to his friends here, from whom 
 she was purchased. They stole her free papers, made her a slave 
 again, put her in the kitchen as cook, cut off her long braids of 
 wavy hair, and besides, treated her cruelly. Do you not re- 
 member? " 
 
 "Oh! yes, I remember." A shudder ran over her — the sweet 
 blushes paled to whiteness, 
 
 " Then, you know also how old Auntie Mamy paid for herself 
 twice over, and only got free in her old age." 
 
 " I know, mother. I know. There is no safety here. Mrs. 
 Mowndes and Grace are ferocious. They would be more than will- 
 ing to put me to torture. I consent to the marriage. Speak for 
 me, mamma. Beg my preserver to trust in my eternal gratitude. 
 Beg him to doubt not the love of a heart, wholly and forever his." 
 
 Pauline passed out of the glass door, to the piazza. After a 
 short delay, she returned with Mr. Sillton. For a few winged mo- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 257 
 
 ments, he held his lovely bride to his breast, amid the blissful 
 silence and overflowing tears of both. 
 
 Pauline received her from him, with the smiling admonition to 
 nave all m readiness at his return. 
 
 "It will be a short farewell," he saidj and with hurried steps 
 descended into the street. ^ 
 
 ^ Pauline proceeded to her task of dressing-maid with gleefnl alac- 
 rity. Again, in the dressing-room, she exposed to Zoe's astonished 
 view, a fragrant profusion of cut flowers, and other bridal decora- 
 tions. From a jewelry case she drew a pearl necklace, the match 
 to her ear-rings and bracelets, from which depended a locket, 
 studded with the same silvery spheres. The chief treasure was 
 enclosed within— the picture of her affianced husband. As Zoe 
 behe d the proud and manly face, she held it to her lips rever- 
 entially, saying, — 
 
 " Dearer than all else, marnma. Dearer than all." 
 ■ " No more tears to-night, my darling," said the mother, in cheerful 
 reproof, as she gently withdrew the bright circlet from Zoe's hands 
 and fastened it about her snowy throat. From another receptacle 
 issued a bndal veil of gossamer lace, and from another still, a 
 wreath of white jasmine ready formed, to which the veil was soon 
 attached. 
 
 Zoe suffered the wreath to be placed upon her head, and the 
 folds of the misty lace to be adjusted about her rigid fio-ure in si- 
 lent abstraction. The events of the day, so strange, ^rapid and 
 overwhelming, nearly palsied perception. Pauline went on with 
 her work ; tacking spray after spray of sweet white blossoms, and 
 their trailing delicate pinnate leaves here and there upon the flowino- 
 veil. ^ 
 
 Zoe, suddenly awakened to reflection, asked abruptly,— 
 "Who brought all these beautiful and costly art'icles here 
 mamma ? Who can love me so ? " ' 
 
 " The fairies, Zoe. Let there be some mysteries with to dav's 
 terrible realities." •' 
 
 " Am I to question nothing ? " 
 
 "Nothing to-night, my queen. It is sufficient that they are 
 yours. -^ 
 
 After the veil, the long white gloves reaching nearly to the elbow 
 
258 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 — then the delicately embroidered Paris handkerchief. Nothing 
 was wanting. Pauline hastened to place vases of odorous flowers 
 about the room in every possible place. She had scarcely taken 
 breath, when Mr. Sillton, accompanied by a clergyman in black 
 silk robes, entered. They were attended also by a friend of the 
 bridegroom, as v^'ilness. 
 
 ''Who would have imagined this apartment held such tran- 
 scendent loveliness? '' said the witness in evening dress. 
 
 "The fates have been propitious to you, sir," bowed the clergy- 
 man. " Such beauty and elegance are rarely combined." 
 
 With affectionate deference, Mr. Sillton took his place by Zoe's 
 side. The rites of the ceremony soon performed on the part of 
 the minister, were completed by a husband's embrace and his low 
 murmur, — 
 
 '• My bel-oved wife." 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 IN the ideal of Mrs. Lucy Steele, the South had been a beautiful 
 dream ; fraught with fragrant bowers of perpetual spring, with 
 laughing skies and balmy airs, with luscious fruits, and with a glad- 
 some rest from the ever-recurring and perpetual cares of Northern 
 households. The subject of slavery never disturbed the peace of 
 the domestic hearth, or vexed her own thoughts. Their tranquility 
 was never roused to a consideration of its moral claims upon the 
 Republic, or upon the individual conscience. So there was nothing 
 in the Southern journey before her to be feared, nothing to sully 
 bright anticipation, nothing to mar the serene depths of love for 
 the husband of her choice. 
 
 Pier ideal dream of South Carolina has been more than realized ; 
 aye, enhanced by charming reality. She passed from drifted snows 
 to perpetual greenness. She entered the overseer's unassuming 
 house as her future home, without surprise or env}', in its compari- 
 son with the lordly mansion of " Le Grand Palais," standing ia 
 solitary grandeur at a proper distance, both from herself and the 
 slave quarters. She sat down with a smiling trust among her black 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 259 
 
 servants, accepting their new and strange offices with content 
 bhe partook of \he novel viands placed before her, without her 
 direction, pleased with the picturesque change in her life, and Had 
 tor the time to revel amid the ravishing beauty without 
 
 For her rides and walks with WilHam, she suffered herself to be 
 robed or disrobed, feeling the delicate gentleness of the black 
 hands that folded her garments about her, and sensible of the ten- 
 derness in the voices that addressed her as " my dear youno- 
 missus ' innocently supposing this to be the charmed lot of all 
 the ladies in that happy South. 
 
 The little, half-naked, unkempt children of the negro quarters 
 
 hovered about her out-door wanderings, sure to gain a smile or a 
 
 kind word, by some rollicking prank or childish giggle ; they flocked 
 
 about her door, with hands full of sweet flowers for " Miss Lucv " 
 
 till her rooms were a bower of perfume. The slaves in the fields 
 
 dropped courtesies, or quickly bared their heads as she passed bv' 
 
 to look after her with loving, thoughtful eyes, or standin- in their 
 cabin doors, said always, — 
 
 " God bless you, honey." 
 
 In the later spring, she went to the" great house " with her hus- 
 band, to inspect the rooms and assist in giving orders for its prepa- 
 ration for the return of the family from Europe, in the autumn. 
 l.ed by the old gardener, she strolled through the gardens filled 
 with wonder and admiration of the unheard of floral variety She 
 traversed the ample, double piazzas, overhung with climbino- roses 
 of a hues; and her eyes ran over the level misty view o1 field 
 woodland and river, in rapturous delight. Under the guidance of 
 Dorcas, the faithful housekeeper, who, with a solemn bunch of 
 gmghng keys at her belt, unlocked drawers, pantries and closets 
 she beheld such costly curtains, rolled carpets and French china' 
 as her eyes had never before looked upon. ' 
 
 ;' My young lady, this is nothing to their house in Charleston " 
 said Dorcas, relocking the doors and drawers. 
 
 u ^^^"^ t° ^^^^ occupy this, and when that"? " asked Lucy. 
 Marse Fairland comes here in de winter, and stays in Charles- 
 ton in de summer, when they don't travel Have been gone lono- 
 time now. If you stay here this winter, you will see gayety enou-lf 
 Ladies, gentlemen, dinners, horses, hounds, guns and sports'* a 
 
2 6o WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 plenty. De silver is in Charleston in de bank ; box upon box of 
 it; tea and dinner service,. plates, cups, ladles, pitchers, goblets, 
 candelabra, ever^ything solid silver. Come, my young missus, look 
 in de silver closet." 
 
 With an air of family pride, Dorcas selected the proper key from 
 the others, walked on with a more stately step than before, and 
 threw open the double door. The walls and shelves were covered 
 with crimson velvet ; there were grooves and niches, formed each 
 to receive the separate pieces of the costly ware, lined in the same 
 manner. She opened drawers divided into compartments, and 
 glowing in the red covering. 
 
 " We keeps it here t'rough de winter, missus, ready for de grand 
 dinners and balls. Then in de spring it is packed in de boxes, and 
 carried to Charleston." 
 
 The face of Dorcas suddenly changed, a glittering gleam of 
 hatred shot from her eyes. 
 
 "This silver closet is full of dead men's bones and living men's 
 groans. It took more slave flesh and blood than 1 can count, to 
 buy de silver that fills it. You North people don't know nottin 
 'tall about it. i\ly grandmother was Indian. They stole her from 
 our tribe when she was leetle girl. Her father was chief. I'se 
 half Indian ; see missus, my hair is straight and long." 
 
 She drew out the comb, and let the black mass fall over her 
 shoulders. 
 
 "These people talk 'bout their blood. Mine is de aristocratic 
 blood, a part kingly blood. These lands you see here, missus, all 
 these t ousand acres were de Indians. They belonged to my chief 
 and his braves. They were ours. De white men stole our lands, 
 and stole us. Now I am slave. My mother was slave, and my 
 grandmother was slave. Sometimes, my dear young missus, I feel 
 like I wish I had a tomahawk with a shinin edge, and that with it 
 I would cut my way out to freedom again." 
 
 Dorcas raised herself erect ; her right arm made the fierce 
 motion of brandishing the aboriginal weapon to the right and left, 
 as she uttered the last words. Her sullen and unforgiving orator}', 
 sent a thrill of awe over the face of Lucy. Dorcas was quick to 
 perceive this change in her listener. In a calmer tone she con- 
 tinued, — 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 26 1 
 
 " Don't be frightened, honey. See, I have no tomahawk, nothin 
 but the keys. Come away to de library and rest you. What I 
 said is only what I sometimes think in here," striking her breast. 
 " In here, all to myself." 
 
 In the library, Dorcas wheeled an easy chair covered with brow-n 
 linen, to the window for Lucy. 
 
 " There, sit down and look at these books ; never mind Dorcas 
 any more. You can read all here. I don't know one word." 
 
 " No, Dorcas, I cannot look at books now. Sit down by me and 
 tell me what I desire so much to know." 
 
 " I never sit down before white missus. I stand and hear de 
 lady." 
 
 " How old was your Indian grandmother, when the whites stole 
 her.?" 
 
 " Very young, missus ; but de white man promised to make her 
 his wife. She was beautiful, tall, straight, wore a crown of scarlet 
 feathers on her black hair; wore fringed leggins of soft, yellow 
 deer skin and moccasins covered with beads. Her mantle was 
 made of all de bright feathers of de forest birds, which de young 
 warriors shot for her; red, yellow, blue, green. She had bracelets 
 of beads, and strings of all colored beads about her neck. She 
 was de chief's daughter. Miss Lucy." 
 
 " Did he marry her.? " innocently inquired Mrs. Steele. 
 
 After a mocking laugh, Dorcas cried. — 
 
 "Marry her? De Lord bless you, no. He lived with her and 
 had children ; some he sold, and some he kept as slaves. My 
 moder was one. Don't you see, dearie .? " 
 
 " No, no, Dorcas. I cannot understand such cruelty ! " 
 
 "My sweet missus, that was but one cruelty. All we colored 
 women are de same here. De v/hite men love us, live with us and 
 never marry us. Sell our pappoose. Sell us if they chose." 
 
 Mrs. Steele buried her face and groaned. The thought of such 
 a separation from " William " was agon\\ 
 
 "Look up, honey, you can't be sold ; and poor dear child,^do not 
 try to bear our sorrows. De good Lord knows it all. We can do 
 nothin but pray to him. Hear ! Marse Steele call his wife now." 
 
 Lucy rose, and her face brightened at the sound of his voice. 
 Dorcas drew her back one moment. 
 
262 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Dear missis, never repeat what Dorcas'has said, to any person — 
 not to Marse Steele. We all at de house and on de plantation love 
 Marse Steele's young wife ; we all trus' you. Promise dearie, you 
 will be our friend." 
 
 "Your secrets are safe with me. I will never betray you." 
 
 Mr. Steele and the servants had opened the boxes from Europe, 
 and taken out the paintings and statuary. Their exquisite beauty 
 was enrapturing, and restored Lucy to her usual cheerfulness. 
 They went on hanging the pictures of choicest foreign scenery, 
 palaces and cities. That day and days after were haunted with 
 their bright visions. 
 
 The summer was passed in the pine lands, whither, every season, 
 many of the white families resorted to escape the deadly miasma 
 of the rice grounds. Here" Lucy met her first experience of South- 
 ern caste. Mr. Steele's abode was built quite removed from the 
 proud hamlet of rough white-washed board-houses in the heart of 
 the forest. She learned there was intention in this. Although her 
 dress and manner equalled the inmates of the village, no ladies 
 called at her door or sent invitations for the frequent merry-makings 
 of the summer resort. In her rides and walks, none accosted her 
 or noticed her presence. She spoke of it to her husband. He 
 endeavored to reconcile the slight, by explaining that they were all 
 strangers, and the Southern people were slow to form acquaintance. 
 So, in the freshness and nearness of her affection for him, the 
 hot season glided away pleasantly in the grassy glades of the hazy 
 pines, sweetened by her husband's daily return from the plantation. 
 
 Fall came. They returned to " Le Grand Palais," in the ex- 
 pectation of the early return of ALajor Fairland and his family. 
 Lucy offered her services to Dorcas in setting the great house to 
 rights. 
 
 " No, honey. I can do all. De carpets are down, and de cur- 
 tains are ready to hang. I knows their ways ; I can suit 'em well. 
 Shall be all prepared, when de carriage drive 'em up to de gate. 
 But come over to-morrow, pretend to give orders, let Dorcas take 
 you to her room — Dorcas has something to show de dear missis 
 there." 
 
 After the departure of Mr. Steele to his duties as overseer, Lucy 
 presented herself to the housekeeper, and was taken into an upper 
 
 « ; 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 263 
 
 room in the long range of kitchens joining the mansion. The 
 chamber was neatly furnished, and contained various mementos of 
 the favor of the mistress and her family. Dorcas received her 
 v.-ith delight, and a waiting-maid's attention. After she had done 
 all, and more than was necessary to testify her love and respect for 
 Mrs. Steele, she stood before her, holding a box in her hands. — 
 
 "Shall Dorcas tell the young lady a secret now? Is missis 
 rested .'* " 
 
 "You can tell me anything, if you will sit down by me." 
 
 Dorcas courtesied smiling, and brought a chair to Lucy's side, 
 insisting she could not learn to sit before a white lady. She placed 
 the box upon her knees. 
 
 "Now don't be scared, dearie, there is no tomahawk in this! 
 This slow, long-sufferin' African blood which runs w'ith my own, 
 and the dreadful power of the * buckra,' puts out de Indian lire. 
 It only flashes up 'once in a wa}^' and dies then, as soon. Oh! 
 but my dear missis, I want freedom, and I want my pappoose to 
 to have freedom I Does Missis Steele know about them? " 
 
 " No, Dorcas, except the two girls here j neither have you men- 
 tioned your husband." 
 
 "True, misses. Aleck was coachman, he was kicked by one of 
 marse wicked horses, and he died. You say husband, dearie, but 
 we slaves never have husbands ; we cannot marry by de law ; they 
 sell us any time they choose. But my white folks let me have de 
 man I love, and I had six pappOose. Laws ! My oldest gal was 
 born when I was fourteen year old. She had straight hair, and de 
 nex' one had straight hair. So you see missis, they keep them to 
 make ladies'maids for de family. De oder four with curly African 
 hair, they sell 'w^ay ! " She clasped her hands, and looked upwards, 
 tears rolling down her sorrowful face. 
 
 Sympathetic tears also filled Lucy's eyes, which, Dorcas perceiv- 
 ing, she took the handkerchief from Lucy and tenderly dried them 
 away ; grieving that she w-as always doing wrong. Then forcing 
 back the wild memories, she declared she should call back the 
 smiles, after a little. 
 
 Dorcas opened the box with a small key which she carried con- 
 cealed in the bosom of her dress. To Lucy's surprise, it contained 
 money — rolls of bills, gold and silver coin. 
 
264 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "There, my dear missis ! beg you will count all de money in this 
 trunk correct ! I earn heap since marse and missis been 'way to 
 Europe. I must be free — and this money and more, will buy 
 myself, and then when I own myself, I can work day and night to 
 buy my children." 
 
 Lucy, who like most other women, had never seen or held large 
 amounts of money, was pleased with Dorcas' success. She said 
 gleefully, — 
 
 " Why Dorcas ! you have more money than I. How did you, a 
 slave, accumulate so much .'* " 
 
 "May be not so much, missis ; but I made sweetmeats, jellies 
 and marmalade for de fine ladies, and they pay me. Sometimes 
 they give me some orange, and I buy little sugar and make it foi 
 myself. to sell by the jar. When marse and missis are home, I pull 
 down my curtains after they is all bed, and make marmalade — all 
 de ladies buy. Then when we have grand company, the ladies 
 give me pieces of silver, and every cent goes in this ere trunk. 
 Sometimes, in Charleston, I buys the orange and sits up most all 
 night, in my rockin-chair, watchin and stirrin the sugar and orange, 
 and thinkin of the happy day when I shall hand the whole price to 
 marse aad get my free papers. Do missis count it true^ and I will 
 'member how much." 
 
 She poured the contents on the table. Bill by bill the amount 
 increased. 
 
 " Two hundred dollars in bills ! '^ said Lucy. She ran over the 
 gold, placing it by itself. " Thirty-five dollars in gold ! " she added. 
 '• Twenty dollars in silver ! " She placed the old heavy copper 
 cents in piles of ten each, making sixty-seven cents. 
 
 " How much, missis ? " 
 
 "Three hundred and fifty-five dollars and sixty-seven cents!" 
 answered Lucy, smiling. 
 
 "Is that a heap, missis? Let Dorcas say ! Tree hundred and 
 ninety-five dollars, never mind cents." 
 
 " No ! Three hundred and fifty-five ! Three hundred — and — 
 fifty-five ! " 
 
 " Tree hundred and sixty-five ! " repeated the housekeeper. 
 
 "No! not right yet!" patiently replied Lucy. "Fifty — fifty- 
 five!" 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 265 
 
 " Tree hundred fifty-five ! Tree hundred fifty-five ! " repeated 
 Dorcas. 
 
 Lucy answered in the affirmative. 
 
 *' Is tree hundred and fifty-five a half of twelve hundred, dear 
 missis .'' " 
 
 "Not a half, Dorcas, but well towards it! " unwilling to discour- 
 age her. " Is that your value .? " 
 
 "Yes, missis. You see I'se sound, and good housekeeper, take 
 all care from the ladies. They read, sing, walk, ride. I do all." 
 
 She replaced the amount in the box, locked it carefully, and 
 returned it to a safe hiding-place. 
 
 "I shall get twelve hundred dollars if I have to wait till I is old. 
 If I could have the wages of my two girls, I should make up my price 
 soon. Madge is hired out for four dollars, and Dell for three 
 dollars a month. How much is that for a year Miss Lucy ? " 
 
 " Eighty-four dollars ! nearly a hundred." 
 
 "Weill" she replied with a deep sigh, " old mistress has all 
 that, and to them its only a drop in the bucket." 
 
 She presented Lucy's parasol, inviting her to go down to the 
 conservatory and garden, to inspect the new plants in pots, sent 
 from Charleston during Lucy's absence. The conservatory v/in- 
 dows were all open to the air, and the bewildering array of flowers 
 of every fragrance and color, occupied some time. Dorcas knew 
 the strangers' names, and interested Lucy with their probable uses 
 during the winter. 
 
 '* Mistress will bring a Paris florist, who will force them to blos- 
 som in abundance for de great parties. " 
 
 They entered the house, traversed the chambers and parlors, 
 resplendent to Lucy's view, with carpets, curtains, pictures and 
 statuary. At last Dorcas ushered Lucy into the small family dining- 
 room. The table was set for one. Dorcas stepped to the chair, 
 and drew it back, saying with a courtesy, — 
 
 "Be seated, dear young lady. Take some refreshment. Let 
 Dorcas be happy in waitin." 
 
 After some laughter and parleying, Lucy took the seat at dinner. 
 There was a brace of delicately roasted pheasants, a choice bou- 
 quet by her china plate, a dessert of floating-island, creamy Char- 
 lotte-russe, orange marmalade, coffee that seemed ready to filter 
 
266 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 through the thin waxen china cup, small iced cakes and a glass of 
 purple wine. Dorcas served, changed plates, went and came, ever 
 taking her stand at the back of Lucy's chair. 
 
 " Partake, my dear Madam Steele, of all before you. Do your 
 servant that honor." 
 
 " Do myself the honor and pleasure, rather say ! " as she arose 
 from the collation. 
 
 Dorcas detained her by the window, and remained standing 
 silently by. 
 
 "What is it?" asked Lucy. "Is there another secret? Speak 
 on, Dorcas," holding her dark brown hand between her own. 
 
 " No secret, darlin ; but somethin that will surely come to pass ! 
 You will not 'low de truth to vex you ? " 
 
 "No, Dorcas." 
 
 "Well then, let not your heart be troubled about this fam'ly 
 when they come. They is so proud, so blue blood, so debble, 
 that they will not notice you, honey, any more than their slaves. 
 This dinner is your last one in this * Grand Palais,' this winter. 
 You is young and han'som, like a queen, but they will ride past 
 you, and never see you. They will never 'low you to walk up the 
 marble steps to the grand door, and you shall never come at all, 
 except to wait on 'em. Never mind, dearie, never you be their 
 servant. Don't look after 'em wishful, or cast down your proud 
 eyes before 'em. Don't grieve for their pleasures, nor covet their 
 possessions. There's a curse on 'em." 
 
 Indignant blood mounted to Lucy's temples. 
 
 " As to birth, or blood, as they call it, my pedigree will compare 
 with any. My mother's lineage traces back to the ' May Flower.' 
 and my father has the coat of arms of his English ancestors. 
 But I have not yet learned that blood or wealth should exempt 
 one from polite courtesy and civility to others. Dorcas, you have 
 done me a favor. I shall be on my guard." 
 
 During the year, by the influence of Mr. Steele, Edmund Stone 
 had removed South, as pastor to the slaves on the plantations 
 "Success" and " Snowfield." He occupied a low-browed house 
 on a high bank, sighting the river, and overshadowed by live-oaks. 
 Soon after his arrival, the Rev. Stone's directions were received 
 from his friend, Overseer Steele, after this manner. He rode over 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 267 
 
 to see the " man of God," settled in his queer parsonage, and 
 wore a broad-brimmed planter's hat, and high boots over his 
 pantaloons, carrying his long, black, field whip in hand. The 
 Rev. Stone brought chairs upon the weather-worn boards of the 
 roomy piazza, in sight of the early cotton-pickers in the whitening 
 fields. Sinking down in the chair, his head almost lost between 
 his shoulders, he rolled his prominent, servile eyes upon Mr. Steele, 
 as upon his kindest benefactor. 
 
 " I never expected to see this interesting sight ! " pointing to the 
 cotton-pickers. 
 
 " I suppose you never would have seen it, if you had not given 
 the right construction to the Bible and Constitution. This is your 
 reward." 
 
 " I trust I shall ever be faithful to national, as well as religious 
 interests." 
 
 "How do you find things ? Like the climate, and this herd of 
 black faces about you ? " 
 
 "The climate is like wine to the weary; but these black faces 
 are all alike to me. I cannot tell them apart, or scarcely the old 
 from the young." 
 
 " It is often so ; but they will come out in their strong individ- 
 uality, after a time. Does mammy, the old cook, suit you ? " 
 
 " Yes, I'm learning to like her bacon and hominy, with occasion- 
 ally a fried chicken. She can't keep the house neat ; she's too old ; 
 can't go about on her crutch." 
 
 " You must have a handsome young negro wife. You know 
 you found marriage difficult North, amongst those dainty v/hite 
 misses. You must have a dark wife, Edmund; no need of mar- 
 riage here. She'll tidy you up ; and if she don't, why take the 
 whip." 
 
 The pastor's astonishment became evident to the overseer. 
 
 "Oh, you'll get used to color soon enough. Amalgamation is 
 the rule here. These Southerners cry out ' Amalgamation ' 
 against the North, but I always laugh in my sleeve when I hear 
 it. Amalgamation is a Southern practice, not a Northern, and 
 they knew it." 
 
 " I rode over to instruct you how to preach to your parish. I 
 expect I know them better than a green band." 
 
268 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Any suggestions will be thoughtfully received, William." 
 
 "Very well. In the first place, you need write no sermons. Use 
 the simplest every-day words, when you want them to understand ; 
 also the shortest sentences. Preach hell-fire strong ! Make the 
 infernal regions deep and broad ! Blow up the fires, old fellow, hot 
 and red ! Shake 'em over it, if they dare set up their own thoughts 
 or wills. By so doing 3'ou will play into the hands of Fairland, the 
 master, and render the overseer's task easier. For heaven, pile up 
 the golden crowns and spread out the green fields, where each one 
 will bask in the sun, and rest forever. Coax 'em with heaven, and 
 drive 'em with hell. You know how to do it if anybody does," he 
 added, with a loud, ostentatious laugh that the cotton-picker's 
 heard. 
 
 "There seems to be a difficulty in singing the hymns, as they 
 can't read." 
 
 " Of course they can't read ! The devil would be lo pay if they 
 could ! Line 'em out, Edmund, line 'em out ! Line out some new 
 ones about the wrath of God and damned souls ! " 
 
 *' Certainly, Mr. Steele ; my own memory will supply them." 
 
 "Another thing," resumed the overseer; "give them prayer- 
 meetings — encourage them all to pray and speak. Let 'em shout, 
 jump, or lose their strength, — anything to keep 'em up to religion. 
 But mind one thing. Edmund, you must always be there yourself, 
 for that is our law. There shall be no gathering of negroes with- 
 out the presence of a white person. Do they bring you anything 
 to help you live?" 
 
 "Yes ; some articles out of their poverty." 
 
 "Poverty! Edmund. Poverty is their normal inheritance. They 
 are property themselves. i\Iake it a rule that they shall bring you 
 so many eggs a week, and so many wild ducks and fowls ; put the 
 number high enough. If you have more than a supply, box them 
 up and send them to Charleston, in exchange for coffee, tea and 
 suo'ar. Your salary is small, but you can manage to lay up as 
 much as you would in the North. There are no fashions to fol- 
 lov; here — no company to entertain." Striking his host playfully 
 with the black whip, " Old fellow, you will lead a roystering life 
 here. Do as you please, and no sermons to write — so good day." 
 As he mounted his horse, he turned to say, " Come over and see 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 269 
 
 US — Lucy will give you a welcome. Let one of the boys drive you 
 over in the mule cart." 
 
 After Major Fairland's family were settled at " Le Grand Palais," 
 Lucy, forewarned by Dorcas, set herself about making her own 
 observations. Dorcas was right. Festivities of all kinds crowned 
 the winter days. Gayety and mirth overflowed at the "great 
 house." But never an invitation, a call or recognition of any kind 
 relieved the monotony of Lucy's solitude. Of a Sabbath, the ele- 
 gant carriages of the master of the place, and those of their guests, 
 driven by liveried coachmen, passed her haughtily on the roadside, 
 without the si ightest salutation. 
 
 She observed, also, that her husband seldom or ever entered the 
 abode of Major Fairland. She had repeatedly seen William stand 
 at the foot of the matble steps most obsequiously, with hat in hand, 
 and with head bared like the slaves, holding the communications 
 necessary between master and overseer. Once, she saw him stand 
 for some moments in a dripping rain, in that manner, without an 
 invitation to ascend to the shelter of the piazza. This act roused 
 Lucy to an expression of long repressed indignation, and of the 
 deep abhorrence she felt at his humiliation. 
 
 "William," she said, "why did you stay at Fairland's gate bare- 
 headed in the rain.?" 
 
 "Because it is customary, my dear." 
 
 " How can you submit to such servility? You are counted no 
 better than an African slave. " 
 
 "African slaves do not have a salary, and I do. I buy and sell 
 negroes myself. I could not do that North. It is a profitable 
 business all round." 
 
 " Profit will never heal my wounded self-respect. William., we 
 are neither one of us considered any better than Mr. Fairland's 
 bloodhounds, required to lick their master's feet. It is unbear- 
 able ! Let us change our business, and leave this land of lords 
 and serfs." 
 
 "That would not be for my interest at present. It would be 
 impossible. I should be obliged to sell Binah and her girl, and 
 their two children. You see the children are getting more val- 
 uable every year, and you know I am getting sixty dollars a year 
 
270 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 for their services besides. I should have to sell Marquis, and lose 
 his wages every year — two hundred and forty dollars." 
 
 "O VVilliam ! I do not believe in holding slaves. It is cruel and 
 wrong ! " 
 
 " Take care, Lucy ! You are on dangerous ground. Then you 
 have lost faith in the Bible ? Strange ! You knew we were going 
 amid slavery at the time of our marriage." 
 
 "I had not witnessed the operation of the system personally, 
 then, his wife replied ; " and more, I did not expect we were to be- 
 come slavish ourselves." 
 
 VVilliam Steele had at least a respect for the uprightness of his 
 wife. She was the only one whose judgment he feared. He re- 
 plied soothingly, — 
 
 •' Come now, Lucy, reflect. In a few years I shall own a plan- 
 tation. You can have your servants, and perhaps your carriage. 
 Let me explain to you how our matters stand now ; " and he 
 opened to her the secret of his possessions. She was surprised, but 
 not satisfied ; discontent was not allayed. Within her heart, Wil- 
 liam Steele had gradually lost ground. Lucy Clarendon could not 
 love the crime that God abhorred, and from which angels veiled 
 their faces. However, this was //t-rsecret. She settled into a quiet 
 endurance of evils she could not remedy ; and her husband was 
 too much involved in his duties, and in getting, gain to probe her 
 wishes farther. 
 
 As to the absolute cruelty practised on the gangs in the field, 
 she knew nothing. When riding away from home, occasional 
 screams reached her ears ; but having a dread of suffering, she 
 w^ould ride away without investigation. Latterly, William came 
 home with blood stains upon his cuffs and garments. To her in- 
 quiries he replied indifferently, that he was subject to attacks of 
 nose bleeding ; that his head found relief from it. 
 
 Thus the months and years glided on. It was their custom to 
 visit Rev. Stone twice or thrice each season. Lucy rode her pony 
 over alone, through the pine woods, dallying among them at her 
 pleasure to gather either jasmine or holly berries. In the evening 
 William came for her; they galloped home together. On one of 
 these visits, Lucy had taken the route more leisurely, tempted by 
 the cool greenness, the flowers and moss. Nearing the parsonage, a 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 27 1 
 
 thicket of beauty walled in each side of the sandy road. At her 
 left, shielded by a yellow jasmine in full bloom, emerged a slender^ 
 dark brown girl. Half hidden by the viny curtains, she beckoned 
 to Lucy, and then glided back to her retreat. Lucy reined her 
 pony on to the greensward, around the tree into the green cham- 
 ber, envelophd by the thick mantle of vines. The girl quickly 
 threw her arms around her in the saddle, and raised an entreating 
 look to her. 
 
 " Oh, my dear young missus ! I hear you is so good ! beg you 
 to listen — beg you to help ! I is libin wid Marse Stone. I is his 
 black wife. He — " 
 
 " No, no, it cannot be ! " quickly answered Lucy. " I have been 
 to the minister's house every season ! I have never seen you there. 
 I fear you are deceiving me." For a moment she shrunk from her 
 embrace, as from a maniac's clutch. 
 
 '• jNIy sweet young missus, I is not decebin you. Do trus' 
 Rachel ! see how my heart is brake." 
 
 A flood of tears fell upon Lucy's riding habit. 
 
 " Marse Stone dribe me 'way jes fore de lady come, tell me if I 
 don't stay out of sight till you is gone, he will gib me de raw-hide. 
 'Tis de trut*, my missus. Listen to Rachel. Had young husban' — 
 tall, handsome, lib wid him long time. Wese lube one 'nother. 
 Dey tuk him 'way, dunno where. Bring me here, me one all 'lone. 
 Make me lib wid dat ugly white man, and — " 
 
 " Who made you live with him .? " 
 
 " Marse Stone make me hisself. When I cry an' grieve, he take 
 de black whip. Look here, missus." 
 
 Quick as thought she bared her shoulders ; and for the first time 
 Lucy looked upon scars and welts injflicted upon a human form. 
 Rachel proceeded, — 
 
 " All dat did'n do no good. I grieve in de woods. I grieve 
 when he don* see me. I want you to buy me, dear missus. 1 can't 
 lib wid dat man." Her voice sank to a whisper. "I hate him! 
 I hate him ! " She sobbed again, " beg you buy me, missus. Work 
 all my life for you." 
 
 " Tell me who brought you here ? " demanded Lucy, a dark sus- 
 picion flashing across her mind. 
 
 " Don't ask me dat, dear missus ; neber min' who." 
 
272 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "Tell me, Rachel. I shall never expose your confidence. I am 
 your triend. Tell me who ? " 
 
 " One ob de oberseer." 
 
 " Which overseer ? I must know. Do not fear." 
 
 "De oberseer at 'Grand Palais!'" whispered the frightened girl. 
 
 "Very well," coldly replied Lucy, controlling herself with a 
 strong will, which of late had grown stronger. She leaned over 
 in the saddle, and said in a low tone in her petitioner's ear, — 
 
 " Poor girl, I cannot buy you, but I can do something better. 
 I can tell you how to free yourself. Follow the north star to 
 Philadelphia. Travel by night, and hide by day. Heaven will 
 open the way. Now hear, Rachel, and remember. Pretend to 
 Edmund Stone to be content, satisfied ; pretend to love him. 
 Laugh and be merry. Get him to talk about the North. Lay 
 your plans, and keep them in your own breast. After I have 
 made one more visit to the minister, look in this hollow tree upon 
 which the vine hangs. Money will be there. It will be yours. 
 Take it to spend on your way, to buy bread, and to pay some slave 
 to help you along, and go when you are ready. Now, Rachel, 
 keep the secret, and be careful. Wait here till I turn the corner 
 near the house, under the live-oak." 
 
 The dinner was waiting when Lucy arrived. Old mammy sat 
 low down on the hearth before the fire, roasting and toasting and 
 turning, to keep the viands hot. She hobbled about on her crutch 
 as lively as possible, brought in fried chicken, roast ducks, hoe- 
 cake, and a nicely iDrowned pound cake from the safe. Rev. 
 Stone cheerfully assisted. 
 
 While sitting at table, Lucy condoled the loneliness of Mr. 
 Stone. 
 
 ''You must," she said sympathetically, "be sorely tried with 
 such poor help as mammy offers ; although she doubtless does her 
 best." 
 
 "Mrs. Steele," (he laid down his fork, and peered into her face 
 with a brazen staring look,) "it has ever been my privilege and 
 pleasure, to suffer for'Christ's sake. I am alone with mammy, it is 
 true, but my solitude is mitgated by the satisfaction of knowing 
 that I am laboring in the Lord's vineyard, and that my life is dedi- 
 cated to His glory." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 273 
 
 A comforting assurance, Mr. Stone ; but you must be an ex- 
 cellent housekeeper, judging from the order and neatness of your 
 
 rooms "' 
 
 " Years ago, in my scholastic pursuits, I gave personal attention 
 to the arrangements of my rooms — for you understand, dear Mrs. 
 Steele, that this deformity with which Heaven has been pleased to 
 endow me, precludes the hope of the near wifely companionship, 
 so dear to the Christian heart. I am a lonely and unloved man, 
 and my own crucified earthly affections, I trust, are transferred to 
 the safe and o?ily keeping of my Savior." 
 
 Lucy was seized with a sudden fit of coughing, and buried her 
 contemptuous smiles in her handkerchief. After recovering, she 
 suggested that a solitary life like his, might be conducive to greater 
 holiness. 
 
 "Mrs. Steele, I would most gratefully acknow^ledged that as my 
 experience. In a solitary life the passions are hushed to peace, 
 inordinate desires are quelled, the sacred volitions of the pious 
 soul go up to God untrammeled by sinful desire. It is sometimes 
 good for man to be alone." 
 
 The blood mounted to her forehead and temples, at such un- 
 heard of audacity. Again recourse was had to coughing and her 
 handkerchief, in which she whispered to herself, — 
 
 " The hypocrite !" 
 
 After dinner, he was blandly persuaded by his guest to leave 
 the table to mammy and herself; she, warmly pressing him to 
 lay aside family cares for one short afternoon. Old mammy was 
 delighted with her assistant; during an excursion to the kitchen, 
 Lucy found opportunity to ask the needful question, under 
 mammy's turban. 
 
 " Does Rachel live here ? " 
 
 The scared old soul threw up her hands, and groaned. 
 
 " Tell me ! " reiterated Lucy, " does Rachel live here ? " 
 
 Old mammy seized Lucy's hand in her withered fingers, and 
 whispered, — 
 
 "Muss say de trut', dear missis," nodding low and solemnlv. 
 She clung to her, moaning, "De pretty young missis wont tell on 
 poor ole mammy ? " 
 
 Again Lucy's head bent to the faded turban. 
 
2 74 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " Is Rachel his wife ? " 
 
 The old head nodded low and silently. 
 
 Lucy took a turn back to the table ; found Edmund Stone's 
 stump figure exercising on the piazza. Another errand carried 
 her to the kitchen. She gave the crippled old slave a quick 
 caress, and spoke in the negro dialect, close to her ear. 
 
 " Don't be afeered, poor old mammy ! Lucy will never tell — 
 safe in here," pointing to her heart ; and flew away to walk fhe 
 piazza with the clergyman. 
 
 After Mr. Steele's arrival, the conversation became spiritual 
 and ecclesiastic. The rapid growth of the church, North and 
 South, was a subject of congratulation. Grace was said at sup- 
 per, and devout thanks offered by her husband. Before mount- 
 ing their horses for home, Edmund knelt in family prayers, — 
 prayers for all nations, all persons in sickness, in bereavement, 
 for those broken in spirit, for the destitute, and for those without 
 any helper. 
 
 Lucy's smouldering scorn broke into fresh flames upon hearing 
 these holy, gentle words, on his sacrilegious lips. She did not 
 pray with them, but sent up her lonely petitions, winged by her 
 pity and her tears, for the desolate, spirit-broken, dark brown girl 
 of the jasmine covert. 
 
 The crucial test of Mrs. Steele's love, pride, womanhood and 
 religious nature, was severe ; but her crystaline quality of mind 
 was not in the least muddled. In weighing the events of her 
 Southern life, the revelations of to-day, right and wrong retained 
 their value. The results were legitimate j authoritively deduced from 
 the premises. She could not love deception, cruelty or despotism. 
 With these, pride forbade compromise or complaint. Her own 
 womanhood was trampled and debased in the person of Rachel, 
 and she doubted «ot in the person of all the slave women about 
 her. Her religious nature revolted at the subterfuges of the wor- 
 shippers of Him whose throne is Justice and Truth. The tender 
 trustful affection for her husband, like the purple bloom of 
 ripened fruit, had been rudely brushed away ; the true color of his 
 depraved character became more and more apparent. 
 
 William Steele, intent on his profession, and grown more cal- 
 lous and brutish by daily acts, missed not the tender thrill of 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 275 
 
 his wife's voice, he missed not the light-hearted gayety from her 
 laugh, nor the eager kindling of her eye tliat formerly met every 
 return of his footstep homeward. He knew not that she had 
 settled into a calm and silent detestation of his course of life, and 
 her own surroundings. 
 
 Rachel watched the last flutter of Lucy's riding habit, as her 
 pony parted the veil of moss depending from the live-oak at the 
 c&rner ; then threw herself upon the ground in her jasmine covert, 
 to untangle the strange advice of her new-found friend. Rapid 
 thoughts revolved confusedly. She had already forgotton the 
 word "Philadelphia." She remembered " North Star;" and her 
 gaze went hastily up through the tall pine branches, meeting only 
 deep, blue patches of sky between their openings. She would ask 
 mammy. All her secrets and sorrows were safe with that poor old 
 body j and true enough, the memory' flashed upon her that mammy 
 had traveled " Norf " wdth her mistress many times in her young 
 days. 
 
 She was also to feign attachment for Edmund Stone, and to draw 
 him into conversation about the North. A suggestive smile played 
 over her face. She would deceive him — why not ? A slave's life 
 was one tissue of deception from the nature of things. A slave 
 must appear to love and revere his master, when hatred lay at his 
 heart's core. A slave must sing and be merry, when a death sor- 
 row tugged at his heart strings. 
 
 " I could do dat," she said to herself, " dough I hate him ! hate 
 him ! hate him ! " 
 
 Thoughts of her dark slave-husband, lithe and agile as a deer, 
 straight as a pine and pleasant as the sunshine, drove all else from 
 her mind. A flood of tears dropped upon the ground ; her resolu- 
 tion to fly away and make herself free became firmer than ever. 
 
 The drama should open that very afternoon with William Steele, 
 the heartless man \vho had torn her from all she loved. She knew 
 that the way of his approach to the clergyman's abode, was in a 
 different direction from that of his wife ; that he came in a by path 
 over rough fields, and returned by the pleasant piny road. Her 
 last effort before going out upon her purpose was the usual wrest- 
 ling in a rude prayer for aid in the undertaking. 
 
 " De good Lord show de way. De blessed Marster in Heaben 
 
276 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 keep 'way de bloodhoun'. Tak' 'way de cloud in de dark night 
 from de Nort' Star Merciful Sabior, don' let Rachel's foot git in 
 de buckra net. Blessed Jesus, let de poor slabe go free. King 
 Jesus wid de golden crown, 'member Guy, all I lub on dis cold 
 eart'. Blessed Spirit, tell him I is gone, gone 'way." 
 
 Her prayer was mingled with groans, tears and agonized rocking 
 of her figure, to and fro. She arose, dried her eyes with her dress. 
 The wild bees' hum caught her ear. 
 
 " De bees busy. Rachel mus' busy too." 
 
 Keeping out of sight of the house, she went across the fields and 
 woodland patches to Mr. Steele's bridle path, and waited his com- 
 ing. At the sound of his galloping horse, she fell to pulling flow- 
 ers ; and met him with a courtesy, and a smiling " how d'e mas- 
 ter." 
 
 " Hey ! girl, you seem in better humor, Guess the minister's 
 whip has made you sing a different tune. Like Master Stone now, 
 hey ? " 
 
 She dropped another courtesy, saying with a happy face, — 
 
 '• Come to tell Marser Steele, I likes Marse Stone now. I pull 
 flowers for his table." 
 
 "You like Marse Stone better'n Guy?" he asked. 
 
 " Better'n all, Marse Steele. Him nice gentleman," dropping 
 her courtesy. 
 
 " So so, gal, you'll fare better then," he replied. " Better look 
 after your soul, gal. Salvation's in the preacher's house, — get 
 saved while you're with him, from the sinner's hell. Pray fast; 
 and mend your ways." He galloped on. 
 
 During the intervals betw^een visits, Edmund Stone was aston- 
 ished by the change in Rachel. Attentive to his wants, and affec- 
 tionate in her manner, she caused his days to glide by without a 
 care. She arose singing with the lark, laid dewy flowers on the 
 breakfast table, arranged his small theological library, and called 
 him " an angel of de Lord." He doted upon her, calling her 
 his "household angel." In his walks, she followed him like a 
 faithful spaniel ; drew him in at eve from the dangerous damps, and 
 seating herself by his side, begged him to tell her all about his 
 North people ; how he learned so much wisdom. As she often 
 stood combing his wiry hair, she would ask him how he could come 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 277 
 
 South to Jove Rachel and deal so kindly with her? She expressed 
 contrition for her past sins, and desired to be saved by his holy 
 prayers. 
 
 On Sundays, she insisted upon remaining at home, to superintend 
 a roasting duck, a sweet potato pone, or the berry dumpling ; and, 
 as she said, to have them smoking on the table when he stepped 
 over the threshold. 
 
 These were the opportunities in which she held secret council 
 with old mammy — learned of Philidelphia and New York; besides 
 various other suggestions of worth to a fugitive. 
 
 About the time for the next stated visit to the parsonage, Lucy 
 learned that her husband and his friend Stone would make a jour- 
 ney to Charleston soon after. She wrote a pass for Rachel, in 
 excellent imitation of the minister's chirography, and appended his 
 signature. This pass ran for six days. She examined her purse. 
 The bills and coin were all too large for the ignorant girl who 
 could not count twelve. Dorcas' box of freedom savings came to 
 mind. She stepped over to " Le Grand Palais," and exchanged 
 twenty dollars for small bits and dollar bills. These she placed 
 in a small purse attached to a long cord for the neck. Galloping 
 away on her pony, her cheeks flushed with excitement, she neared 
 the jasmine vine. She pulled a few flowers, and rode around be- 
 neath its shelter, into the open arms of Rachel. 
 
 *-Muss see you 'gain, my dear missis, count ob de good news. 
 I'se seen Guy, my Guy, my true lub ! De blessed Lord sen' Guy, 
 I sure ! " 
 
 " Did Mr. Stone get an inkling of his visit .? If so, Rachel, we 
 are all undone. Do say quickly how and when you saw him." 
 
 "Don' be afeered honey! we is all saf't. You see one night 
 when wese all bed, dere wer' great rappin to de doo', and a cry- 
 in,— 
 
 * Do bressed marster come to de rice mill ! big Sam is mos' die ! 
 Beg de preacher of de gospel to pray ober him body ! De minister 
 be better'n de doctor. Sam be hoopin and hollerin on de floo' ! 
 rollin all 'bout. Wese gib de marster two duck — tree — ten — 
 tirteen duck to come and pray de Lord for Sam ! ' " 
 
 Marse Stone dressed and went down. Den I hear a small voice 
 at de window call " Rache], Rachel ! " She caught hold of Lucy's 
 
278 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 riding habit, '"Bless de Lord, O my dear missis, dat voice was Guy. 
 I hurry out, he hold me in his arms, and cry as his heart muss 
 broke. He trabel long way, swift as de deer to see me. I speak 
 soft to him, and tell all ; how I gwine 'way, how I can't be minis- 
 ter's wife. Den he say he stay in de woods and go too. I say no ! 
 Guy, wait ! I go first, dey will hunt both more dan me, one ! Den 
 I give him corn-cake, bacon, two fried pheasant, and some of 
 Marse Stone's brandy to keep him up when he trabel back dat 
 same night. I promise to be nobody wife 'cept him, and I shall 
 wait for him in de Nort' till I die. Den when I cry so, he kiss my 
 eyes, and say ' good-bye.' Oh ! do, sweet missis, 'member Guy for 
 poor Rachel ! " 
 
 "Yes, I will; but how about Sam, and Minister Stone? " 
 
 " I find all out, honey. Sam made b'leve sick, to get de minis- 
 ter 'way, so Guy could see me. I went down to de mill, to come 
 home wid Marse Stone, and I hear Sam hoopin long way off. 
 Marse Stone pray, and all de rest shout. When I come, he growed 
 better, said he was most cure. Said de preacher had work a mera- 
 cle. Den he holler, 'Rachel, you mus' lub and 'vere Marse Stone.' 
 Den turn his head, and wink at me." 
 
 " So we have nothing to fear. Mr. Steele and IMr. Stone are 
 going to Charleston to be absent three days; they go the day after 
 to-morrow in the afternoon. That same night after bed-time, 
 Rachel, leave his house, travel all night, look out for the patrol. 
 Here is a purse of money that will last you more than all the way. 
 Go to colored people in Philadelphia ; they will direct you. Your 
 pass is good six days after you start. When your pass is done, 
 change your name ; and do not expose yourself. Farewell ! my 
 poor girl." 
 
 Lucy spoke in a tremulous voice, holding both Rachel's hands 
 
 in hers, — 
 
 "God watch over you ! " 
 
 She rode hastily away, lest the evidence of emotion should be- 
 tray her. 
 
 Lucy observed that the apartments at the parsonage were more 
 neatly arranged than ever before. 
 
 ^Ir. Steele arrived earlier than usual. The party took seats on 
 the broad, low-roofed piazza, where glimpses of the blue river, and 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 279 
 
 of the gieen, lush waves of the rice swamps attracted the eye. 
 Upland cotton-fields were set against a background of distant ame- 
 thystine haze. Ancient live-oaks over- arched the weather-worn 
 roof, and solemnly swung their gray beards of moss about the 
 eaves and hard-trodden paths. The bland, caressing breeze 
 wafted in the deep melancholy music of baying hounds, and the 
 sweet pathos of a rich, flute-like African voice, extemporizing a 
 mournful song. 
 
 These measured sounds formed an undertone to the brilliant 
 Capf'iccios of mocking birds in the oaks ; Capriccios embellished 
 with trills, appeggios and inimitable cadenzas. 
 
 " What a paradise of golden sunlight, spontaneous beauty, and 
 dreamy indolence this South is ! " ejaculated Lucy. "Its sights 
 and melody creep over the senses like balm, and lull them to a 
 rapturous languor, beyond the power of language I " 
 
 *'■ Glad to hear my wife express pleasure and satisfaction with the 
 South, my dear," replied her husband. 
 
 " I was speaking of its natural attractions," replied Lucy. 
 
 " Slavery may well be considered one of the natural attractions 
 of the South, for it is coexistent with its settlement. The very life 
 of South Carolina is dependent upon it. In 1788, General Pinkney 
 declared in the debate on the Constitution, that " South Carolina 
 and Georgia cannot do without slaves, and the slave trade." These 
 two States would have seceded then and there from the Union, 
 without slavery, and the slave trade. They have improved and 
 beautified the land, making it just what you admire." 
 
 " Then if the South cannot do without slavery, what would be its 
 condition if sometime it should be abolished.? " 
 
 "A preposterous idea, Lucy. It is imbedded in the Constition, 
 and Congress cannot lay a disturbing finger upon it. The meddling 
 with it is exclusively a State right, and of course, no Slave State 
 will cut off its own right hand, or sever the artery containing its 
 life's blood ! " 
 
 " But have religion and humanity nothing to do with a Constitu- 
 tion and laws for a republic? " 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Steele," earnestly interposed the host, " allow me 
 to quote to you the judicial opinion of our god-like Webster, in a 
 speech delivered at Niblo's garden in New York, and you will ac- 
 
28o WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 knowledge with Mr. Steele and myself, a justifiable pride in his 
 majestic and impressive oratory." 
 
 He brought the speech from his study, and read, — 
 
 "Slavery, as it exists in the States, is beyond the reach of Con- 
 gress. It is a concern of the States themselves ; they have never 
 submitted it to Congress, and Congress has no rightful power over 
 it." 
 
 According to this lofty and candid judgment, the Constitution 
 holds slavery ''' in pe?'petuu?)i.''^ 
 
 " But have religion and humanity nothing to do with drafting a 
 Constitution, and shaping Republican laws.** " she queried. " I ap- 
 peal to you, Mr. Stone, as an expounder of sacred ethics 1 " 
 
 She said this with a conciliatory smile, at the same time extend- 
 ing her hand for the speech on annaxation. 
 
 Ever taken captive by the smile of woman, his sallow face twisted 
 into its sickly reflection, while he answered evasively, — 
 
 " Mrs Steele, a more religious people cannot be found than the 
 North ; and almost universally the church champions our Southern 
 institution ; and our Northern politicians, nursed in this religious 
 sentiment, generally strive to propitiate the goodwill of the Slave 
 States, by their adherence to Constitutional obligations. Edward 
 Everett, of Massachusetts, when he first entered Congress, declared 
 of slaver}', that * While it subsists, and where it subsists, its duties 
 are presupposed and sanctioned by religion.' " 
 
 "But you know, Edmund, many Southerners sharply dissented 
 from Mr. Everett ; and John Randolph of Virginia said with keen 
 sarcasm, ' Sir, I envy neither the head nor the heart of that man 
 from the North who rises here to defend slavery upon principle.' 
 You see the North must have every subject, institution and object 
 decorated and garnished with some pious vine, which sprung from 
 'May Flower' seed. Their religion is a parasite — like this gray 
 moss swaying about the piazza here, with this exception, that it 
 draws its life from every kind of wood — from the apple tree to the 
 oak and pine. Their pious excuse of brotherly good vv^ishes swings 
 in your face alike from the church spire and the gallows — from 
 the flagstaff of freedom and the lash of the slave-driver's black 
 whip. They chafe under self-inflicted torments about right and 
 wrong, — then sanction black deeds, and mollify conscience by 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 28 1 
 
 prayers and hymns. I have come to the conclusion with Mr. 
 Pinkney of this State, in the debate upon slavery in the Constitu- 
 tion ; that * Religion and humanity have nothing to do with this 
 question. Interest alone is the governing principle with nations.'" 
 
 " That is truth ! " croaked the voice of Rev. Stone. " The true 
 interest in the North produces the heaviest parasitic fleece of 
 brotherly love for the South, and its domestic institution. They 
 would be unwilling to lose the Southern market for their manufac- 
 tures." 
 
 " My dear husband," said Lucy, laying her hand upon his 
 shoulder, — " I too have read those Constitutional debates lent you 
 by Mr. Fairland. There was one outspoken Southerner among 
 them — Colonel George ]\lason of Virginia. He says — ' Every 
 master of a slave is born a petty tyrant. They bring the judg- 
 ment of Heaven on a country. Now hear!' he continues — 'As 
 nations cannot be punished in the next world, they must be in 
 this. By an inevitable chain of causes and effects, Providence 
 punishes national sins, by national calamities.'" 
 
 Holding one of her auditors by her palm, and the other by the 
 pleasing gleam of her eye, she asked, — 
 
 " Is this a prophecy, Mr. Stone ? Does it not become this na- 
 tion to free itself from a crime, around which will swirl in a blind- 
 ing storm the wrath of a long-suffering God ? " 
 
 "Nonsense, Lucy," angrily retorted her husband. "Do you 
 not Vv'itness the increasing prosperity of our country from that 
 very day on which these venomous words were uttered ? Lucy, 
 I am startled. You are an agitator ! a fanatic ! On this piazza, 
 your words are falling upon friendly ears, but I entreat j^ou, nay, 
 I demand that such inflammatory language shall never fall again 
 from your lips. If you persist, the prison here, or immediate 
 banishment will be your punishment. From either sentence, I, 
 even I, could not save you." 
 
 He was excitedly pacing the piazza. Lucy rose, and with a 
 merry laugh took his arm. 
 
 " Our social intercourse is not so extended that there is danger 
 of a conflagration ! " she remarked soothingly. " I should judge 
 that the air of this State is foul. The atmosphere is inflammatory, 
 not my language. Doubtless I should wear on my lips a wire 
 
282 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 gauze protector, like that on Sir Humphrey Davy's safety lamp, 
 used by the miners in the explosive gasses of the mines." 
 
 "Wear anything, my dear, that will muzzle or stifle the danger- 
 ous utterances in which you have just indulged. The South will 
 not have agitation. Through Congress it has laid its silent hand 
 on the lips of the North. Did I not read to you the resolutions of 
 Charles G. Atherton of New Hampshire, which passed by an over- 
 whelming majority ?" 
 
 "I concluded, WilHam, that concerned men, politicians — not 
 women. They have slipped my memory." 
 
 "They imprison and banish women here," he replied. " Re- 
 member now. The climax of Atherton's resolutions is, 'That every 
 petition, memorial, resolution, proposition or paper, touching, or 
 relating in any way whatever to slavery, as aforesaid ; that is, with 
 a view of disturbing or overthrowing that institution, or the aboli- 
 tion thereof, shall, on the presentation thereof, without any further 
 action thereon, be laid on the table, without being debated, printed 
 or referred.' 
 
 "This is Congressional logic. Now every State has a right to 
 make its own special provisions against agitation. Some of these 
 provisions are bowie-knives, revolvers, the gallows, prisons, and re- 
 wards of five to ten thousand dollars for the heads or bodies of 
 agitators." 
 
 Lucy stepped in front of her husband, and playfully holding him 
 by both lapels, said archly, — 
 
 " I stand appalled ! Henceforth I become a disciple of Sir 
 Humphrey Davy! Allow me to retire from the contemplation of 
 barbarism, to dressmaking for old mammy." 
 
 " A much more fitting employment for my wife, than striving 
 with her delicate hands to loosen the corner-stone of the Constitu- 
 tion." 
 
 She flew away, and brought back to Rev. Stone a stout, new, 
 gingham dress pattern, querying, — 
 
 '' If the making of it for old mammy would be an offense to 
 ' State Rights.' or endanger the Constitution ? Old mammy is so 
 good to you, keeps your rooms so neatly, I wish to reward her 
 fidelity." 
 
 A hearty laugh followed, and tranquility was restored. 
 
> 5> 
 
 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 283 
 
 "Go look in Edmund's bedroom," suggested Mr. Steele, "and 
 see what a blessing old mammy is to him." 
 
 Lucy entered, and saw thrown over the foot of the French bed- 
 stead a pink gingham dress and a pretty white apron, — a casualty 
 which she fully understood. There were snowy pillows and counter- 
 pane curtains gracefully looped, clean matting, orderly books, and 
 a bouquet of sweet flowers in a vase upon the stand. 
 
 " Poor Rachel," she soliloquized ; " a victim to ' State Rights.' 
 
 She stepped upon the piazza. 
 
 " Mr. stone, I congratulate you upon your home comforts. Old 
 mammy deserves a new dress in return for her neat-handed care 
 for you. Husband, you could not have procured a better house- 
 keeper for Mr. Stone than mammy. Adieu." 
 
 Left to themselves, Mr. Stone unburdened his troubled soul to 
 his guest, respecting a letter which the boy brought from the 
 post-ofiice the day previous. It had been opened, and was en- 
 closed to him in another envelope, 
 
 " How is this ? " the clergyman inquired. " Can our letters be 
 examined by prying eyes in this manner ? '* 
 
 The overseer took it for examination. 
 
 " The post-mark is Charleston on the outer sheet, and Alderbank, 
 of Massachusetts on the inner. It is from Richard Beame, that 
 rascally fanatic and disturber of the public peace. He arraigns 
 your conscience, and entreats you to leave surroundings which 
 callous every righteous aspiration, and brutalize every human emo- 
 tion. He begs you to go back to your trust in the North. The 
 infernal meddler. Haman's gallows is ready for him here, if we 
 could trap him to come down. 
 
 " Ah ! he knows better than to visit these parts," chuckled Mr. 
 Stone ; " but how is it, William ? Must all our letters go through 
 this ordeal .'' and what will be the result ? " 
 
 " Well, I can explain in few words. The South will not have 
 insurrectionary papers and letters sent into their midst. Don't you 
 remember the burning of the mails in Charleston a few years since, 
 and what a hue and cry was made in Congress about it ? Jack- 
 son's message favored a repression of incendiary matter by law. 
 Calhoun had sagacity enough to perceive that if Congress could 
 decide what incendiary publications are, they may next decide what 
 
284 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 incendiary publications are not ; and thus flood the mails with real, 
 or covert abolitionism. He advocated this principle. ' It belongs 
 to the States, and not to Congress, to determine what is^ or what is 
 7iot calculated to disturb their security.' Webster opposed this, as 
 abridging the freedom of speech and of the press. Clay also 
 opposed. ]Mr. Buchanan supported the measure, as '' dejnandcd by 
 the necessities of the country.^ The debate lasted for weeks, Amos 
 Kendall, Postmaster-General, neither blamed or approved of an 
 inspection of the mails ; but he said, * we owe an obligation to the 
 laws ; but a higher one to the communities in which we live ; and 
 if the former be permitted to destroy the latter^ it is patriotism to 
 disregard them.' He said the postmaster's ^justification must be 
 looked for in the character of the papers detained, and the circum- 
 stances by which they are surrounded.' 
 
 Now, Edmund, how are postmasters to know the character of 
 papers without opening and inspecting them ? Your name at 
 Charleston is a new one; you are comparitively a stranger; but 
 being employed at 'Le Grand Palais,' whose master is a fire eater, 
 they send you this letter opened, as a warning for the future." 
 
 " What will be necessary to allay their distrust of me ? " timidly 
 inquired the clergyman. 
 
 " We are going to Charleston, and we must explain to the post- 
 master, I shall account for you, and you must write a blood and 
 thunder letter to that imp of hell — Beame. Td like to put a bul- 
 let through him myself. Ah ! we'll make it all right, old boy. If 
 I can manage that irrepressible wife of mine, I shall be all right all 
 round. Jupiter ! we've managed adroitly to conceal from her your 
 possession of a black wife. If she knew the truth, her foot would 
 never cross your threshold ; and I should be in hotter water by 
 several degrees Fahrenheit than I am now." 
 
 " 1 should mourn her absence, for her entrance to my parsonage 
 is like the dawn of a bird-caroling morning, or the flower-burst of 
 an apple orchard. There is a breezy fragrance about her ways, and 
 a crisp freshness in her independent thought and expression. I 
 watch for her, till I hear the 'fleet step and joyous bound ' of her 
 pony, till — 
 
 ' I see the jaunty hat, the plume 
 Swerve bird-like in the joyous gale ; 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 285 
 
 The cheeks lit up to burning bloom ; 
 
 The young eyes sparkling through the veil.' " 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! has Rachel found a rival ? Perhaps it's time for the 
 green-eyed monster to dash out in my defense." 
 
 *' By no means ; don't trot out the monster yet ; no necessity. 
 Rachel is the angel of my home. Rachel's presence is like an In- 
 dian summer, in whose idle haze my moody soul is lulled to happi- 
 ness and rest. She has forgotten Guy /and the warmth of her 
 tropical nature is lavished upon me. My life is wrapped in hers. 
 I shall buy and own her." 
 
 Lucy's quick step arrested farther conversation. The ring of 
 cups and table-ware, and the stumping of mammy's crutch an- 
 nounced the tea hour. 
 
 "Look here! I've read Daniel Webster's whole speech, and 
 find that he says," (holding up the paper and reading), " Slavery 
 has arrested the religious feeling of the country; it has taken 
 hold on the consciences of men. He is a rash man, indeed, and 
 little conversant with human nature : and especially has he a 
 very erroneous estimate of the character of the people of this coun- 
 try, who supposes that a feeling of this kind is to be trifled with or 
 despised. . . But to coerce it into silence, to endeavor to re- 
 strain its free expression, to seek to compress and confine it, warm 
 as it is, and more heated as such endeavors would inevitably render 
 it J should this be attempted, I know nothing, even in the Coustitu- 
 tion or the Union itself, which would not be endangered by the 
 explosion which might follow." 
 
 " Pooh ! the superstitious old thunderer 1 Could you not esti- 
 mate for yourself the quality of religious interest which Cloudspire 
 church manifested on this subject, in the revival, at the time of our 
 marriage ; when we mobbed Richard Beame, the vile agitator, and 
 drove him from the church with eggs and snowballs, and forced him 
 and his sister Fanny to walk miles home in the deep, new-fallen 
 snow ? That's the kind of religious feeling for anti-slavery, which 
 the churches propagate. As for breaking this Union, the South 
 has been upon the verge of secession so many times, and yet co- 
 heres, that Webster's prophesied explosion may be denominated a 
 pohtical soap bubble, — nothing more." 
 
286 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "Glad to hear your comments; they are assuring, William. I 
 do not relish living on the crust of a Southern volcano." 
 
 Old mammy appeared in the door, on her crutches, in patched 
 apron and turban. 
 
 *' My good marser, de tea be ready." 
 
 The ride home along the southern skirts of fragrant pine forests, 
 over she sandy road, checkered by moonlight and pictured 
 shadows, should have been delighful to both ; but a lingering offence 
 lurked in William Steele's moody silence and short answers to 
 Lucy's attempts at conversation. She resolved to manifest no irri- 
 tation at his sullenness, but constantly brought before his mind the 
 exquisite beauty of the evening — turning with tact to the virtues 
 and self-denial of their friend Stone — bestowing upon him that 
 mock sympathy and admiration, which she knew to be gratifying to 
 her husband, and of which he had no reason to doubt the sin- 
 cerity. 
 
 He was not placable. His tone relaxed none of its gruffness till 
 their arrival at home. There, both hastened to the couch of their 
 sleeping boy. Both eagerly interrogated the doting old black nurse 
 who sat close by her precious charge, of his welfare during their 
 absence. Was he well ? Had he wept for them ? Had she taken 
 him out airing? Had he fallen? How long had he slept ? To all, 
 old nurse gave fond and satisfactory response. They lifted the 
 pavilion, and studied the budding beauty with affection and pride. 
 A few tender tears welled up from the fountain of a young 
 mother's love. 
 
 William Steele gently lifted his precious child from the pillows, 
 pressed him to his breast, carried him to the sitting-room, listened 
 to his glad and innocent prattle, with a softened heart, and a fresh 
 love upspringing for its lovely mother who sat by his side. He was 
 mild, but abstracted. Secret memories took wing and fluttered 
 through the guilty chambers of his soul. 
 
 From the same couch whence he lifted his little son with pater- 
 nal pride, he had raised his daughter Lillian, to barter with the 
 New Orleans trader. He saw again her flaxen hair, the innocent 
 confusion of her blue eyes, wakened at midnight. He heard again 
 her pleading voice, " Me sleepy, papa," blazing along his memory 
 like electric fire. The dropping rain of that dreary night haunted 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 287 
 
 his ear. Her little cry as she clung to him when he bore her into 
 the pitchy darkness and mounted his horse. 
 
 " Dark, papa ! all dark ! me f'aid. papa, me f'aid ! " 
 He heard the nimble thud of his horses hoofs on the turf through 
 the forest. He saw the dim shape of the bellying canvas on the 
 huge wagon which had been purposely removed from the campfires, 
 where the chained gangs were lying. He felt the roll of bills 
 clutched in his palm, which he took in exchange for his dead Isa- 
 bel's sleeping daughter. 
 
 He remembered the heartless traders words, — 
 "Plenty of pickaninnies in there — we shall start in an hour!" 
 Little Lillian's last sobbing cry, as it issued from the receding 
 wagon, " Papa, papa, papa ! " pierced his callous heart with pain. 
 
 Little Willie, (he was named for his father) was gayly toddling 
 about, from nurse to mother, with equal affection for both. The 
 father sought the open air. A voice seemed calling from the 
 magnolia by the moon-lighted river. It was Isabel's. He turned 
 to the stables; like the dying echo of a distant bell, the voice pur- 
 sued his steps, till fascinated by the weird spell, he wended his 
 course towards the river bank. The voice seemed hushed at poor 
 Isabel's grave. He paused by the green mound, beneath the shiv- 
 ering trees. A quickened inner sight pierced the earth above her 
 breast and seemed to meet again the suffering face, the searching 
 eyes and lips that moved to say, — 
 "Where is my child.'* 
 
 * Oh ! where is my child ! 
 
 My beautiful child ! 
 That I left to its father's dear care ? 
 Say where do her feet — 
 
 Her poor little feet — 
 Go pattering, wandering — where ? 
 
 Does she live in the love, 
 
 The bright, warm love. 
 Of the roof where her life first began? 
 Does she sing with the lark — 
 
 The caroling lark, 
 Where the sands of my life swiftly ran ? 
 
 Do you kiss her at nignt — 
 The dark, gloomy night ! 
 
288 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 When her blue eyes look up to your own 
 Does she lie in your arms — 
 
 Your brooding, strong arms, 
 When she utters the low, fever moan ? 
 
 Does she know Isabel ? 
 
 The dead Isabel ! 
 In her grave in the magnolia grove ? 
 Does she call me mamma ! 
 
 Her loving mamma. 
 When her runaway feet hither rove ? * 
 
 The subject of his remorseful and disordered thoughts assumed 
 the familiar form of the improvised songs of the slaves ; neverthe- 
 less, his lashings of conscience were no less potent. Borne " Ma- 
 zeppa " like on the unrelenting past, whirling through sturdy 
 memories cold and stark ; 
 
 "The skies spun like a mighty wheel ! 
 He saw the trees like drunkards reel ! 
 His heart grew sick — his brain grew sore ; 
 Then thtobbed awhile, and beat no more ! " 
 
 The strong man fell prone upon the grave of his first and deepest 
 love. Arrows of remorse had cleft the brazen armor of defiance in 
 which he took up the gauntlet of life, after he had hidden the 
 stricken Isabel and her darling Lillian from his sight. 
 
 At length, fanned by the cool evening breeze, and restored by 
 the oblivious draught of insensibility, he gathered himself upon his 
 feet, and strove to become master of himself. The haunting of 
 sweet voices had gone. Mysterious Night studded with stars, and 
 flooded by the " unclouded grandeur " of the moon, enwrapped 
 the gurgling river, the quiet fields, the whispering magnolias, 
 William Steele and Isabel's grave. He said, — 
 
 *' Night is the time for dreams ; 
 
 When truth that is, and truth that seems, 
 Mix in fantastic strife ! " 
 
 He cast one tender glance behind, and strode away cursing in 
 superstitious self abasement. 
 
 "Am I a woman, to faint at ghostly sights and sounds? Fool ! 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 289 
 
 coward ! that I am ! " and his clenched hands beat the hoUow air 
 Ihe past IS among the things that were. The present is the rock 
 on which we stand. My boy, the legal fruit of marriao-edaTms 
 the holiest trials of my streno-th " ° ' '-'^""^ 
 
 no^chalancf '"'° '"' '^'""""'' °^ ^'' ^'"''-^ """ ^ ^"''^'^ ^^' °f 
 ■ "VVh3' I expected to find you all asleep. Why watch for me 
 Lucy.' You have had a fatiguing day." lor me, 
 
 1' S'^'^r''* ^' ''^^' ' ^"'^ w'^^t has happened, William ' " 
 
 couple of the neighboring negroes ; stopped to learn the news 
 The night is pleasant, you linow." 
 
 p.^^'^'^b'? ."'«„«"S"'"S "inter, a gay company gathered at "Le 
 Grand Palais ;" among them, several young Soutliern ladies In 
 the fine mornings and evenings, a troop of p°onies and horses were 
 led to the stepp.ng-block, and a laughing bevy cantered away with 
 no other cavaliers than two or three black servants. Lucy's health 
 enfeebled during the summer, demanded by the physician's ad- 
 vice the same bracing wild riding. She took care, ^lo^ver to 
 choose an opposite direction, and a later, or earlier hour ' 
 
 .UaT '?'°™'"S' however, as she made a sudden turn in'to a brio-ht 
 glade, she had the deep chagrin of riding briskly into their midst 
 moLnT/:''' ', T'" ='™°"° "'^ high-spirited animals, and for a 
 moimted cir'cjs "'"^ ''""'^ """""''"^ "'^ brilliant'../... of a 
 
 "Pardon, ladies," said Lucy, bowing low as she rode out of the 
 arena into her own solitary bridle p°ath, congratulatiing herself 
 upon the happy escape from Caste, when a sw'ift clatter°of heels 
 came after, gradually halting in speed as they came up abreast 
 Bon jour, madame." spoke a cheery voice 
 
 "J3o,t jour, mademoiselle. II fait ieau temps," -Lucv rtuWed as 
 she^turned to looked upon a pair of vermeil'cheeks! and glinting 
 
 " You have a lonely ride, Mrs. Steele. Shall I have the pleas- 
 ure of accompanving you .> " uie pieas 
 
 yourself."" *"" '"""'' '"''"'''"^ ^°' companionship, if agreeable to 
 "Entirely so," replied Leonore ; for it was none other than 
 
290 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Leonore Wallace, the bosom friend of Grace Mov/ndes " There 
 is a picturesque little church in that direction, and a majestic or- 
 chard of oaks ; shall I be your guide ? " 
 
 The ponies walked while the ladies chatted. Leonore ordered 
 Sunday, the little groom, to follow at a distance, so they might 
 have the path all to themselves. Leonore, threading the turf 
 among the trees, gave Lucy the trodden way. Soon coming into 
 the open road, they struck into a canter. 
 
 "Do you hear, Mrs. Steele.'* The baying of hounds is music to 
 a Southern ear." 
 
 Before she could reply, a tall, lithe, b'rown figure dashed from 
 the coppice in front, and seized both ponies by the bit ; backing 
 them suddenly. 
 
 "De hunters, missis ! De gun, missis, de gun ! " 
 
 A deer bounded from the copse across the road to the field. 
 Rifle shots followed across the way ; the deep-mouthed hounds 
 were in full pursuit, followed by rushing horsemen, plying whip 
 and spur. When the din of " sylvan war " was over. Lucy found 
 herself standing upon the sward, her saddle girth broken, and her 
 pony's head pulling wildly at the hand that held him like the grasp 
 of a vise. 
 
 " So we owe our lives to you, my brave fellow," said Leonore. 
 " What is your name ? " 
 
 " I is Guy, missis ; too glad to sabe you missis. I b'longs to 
 Marse Fairland." 
 
 " Guy, can you mend Mrs. Steele's saddle girth ? Let go ' Ma- 
 homet/ I can manage him." 
 
 " Ole hunter, missis ; might follow de houn'." 
 
 "Let go, Guy." 
 
 He obeyed. 
 
 * Mahomet ' bent his fiery head to the ground, shook his flying 
 mane in the air, and reared. 
 
 " Go on then, and take a turn about, " laughed Leonore. He 
 struck into a flying gallop towards the field, whence vanished the 
 horsemen ; made a grand leap over the fences, clearing every ob- 
 struction, and neighing wildly half way across. Then he turned 
 with a long sweep back towards the road. Guy gave Lucy's rein 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 29! 
 
 into her hand, and tore down the upper part of the fence like a 
 giant. 
 
 On the bold rider came ; her spirited eye and courageous hand 
 guiding the hunter to Guy, chafing with disappointment, yet tamed 
 to her wish. 
 
 " Now his frolic is over, 'Mahomet' will stand." 
 
 " Fine rider, missis ! Set proud and beautiful, missis," his 
 splendid teeth showing white as a hound's. He led him over to 
 the bush, saying, " De green leaf cool his foaming mouth, missis." 
 
 "You compliment me too highly, Guy. The riding is all in 
 habit." 
 
 Sunday arrived at the time. Lucy's face was all aglow with 
 delight. 
 
 " My dear young lady ! " she exclaimed, " it is worth my whole 
 stay in the South, to witness your horsemanship. It is better than 
 medicine for me." 
 
 " That kind of exercise stirs the blood of our lauguid Southern 
 lives. There's health and exhileration in a mettlesome steed. 
 The other ladies refuse to ride ' Mahomet.' However, he is my 
 choice. We have had many a race ; " pleasantly responded the 
 flushed rider. 
 
 "I am reminded of Queen Dido's steed in Virgil. Ac fracna fe- 
 rox spiunaiiti mandit.^'' 
 
 " Now, Mrs. Steele, I confess myself worsted, and am obliged to 
 ask for the translation. I have never lifted the veil from the beau- 
 ties of the dead languages." 
 
 " I am indebted to the severe drill of my father. Mahomet 
 * fierce champs the foaming bits;' like the steed of the Cartha- 
 ginian Queen." 
 
 "That is very fine. Those old Romans lived in the saddle; 
 they have sent down to us some choice word painting." 
 
 Sunday drew up at that moment with a curious *' What de mat- 
 ter, missis ? " and Lucy took the opportunity of attending to the 
 repairing of her saddle girth. Leonore's restive horse cropped the 
 leaves, walking away j thus making the distance yet more favor- 
 able to Lucy for her design of fulfilling her promise to Rachel, to 
 ^^'??iember Guy^ Suddenly he had been thrown in her way, — and 
 she seemed to have ridden on Rachel's errand this morning. Guy 
 
292 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 addressed her in a low tone, with his eyes riveted upon his busy 
 fingers. 
 
 " Miss Steele, Rachel neber come back ? " 
 
 " No, Guy, never return ; must be safe now in the North." 
 
 *'/goin now, missis. De good Lord bring you here dis day. 
 Where am Rachel gone? Dun fergot. " 
 
 " Lucy stooped to try the girth, and pronounced distinctly, — 
 
 ''Philadelphia:' 
 
 " I goin nex week," his eyes still on his work. "Fin' Rachel. 
 Marse Fairlan' take bloodhoun ten mile 'way to de club-house; 
 hab gran' hunt whole week. I go den." 
 
 Lucy walked around her pony, and delayed for Guy to come 
 round and adjust the belt, and hand her upon the saddle. She 
 bent to arransre her habit, and thrust into Guv's hand five dollars, 
 
 " De Lord bress young missis," was all she heard, as she sprung 
 into her seat. 
 
 It was late. The visit to the old church was given up. Drring 
 the ride home, Leonore led in a carnival of gayety — laughing, 
 satire and singing, that sent the happy blood bounding through 
 Lucy's weakened system. The exhilaration mounted to her 
 cheeks, and brightened her lustrous eyes. 
 
 " Oh ! madam is beautiful ! " said Leonore. " A few hair-breadth 
 escapes like ours to-day, would be an excellent tonic ! " concealing 
 beneath the careless words a heart full of sympathy. " But I shall 
 soon return to Charleston." 
 
 Nearing home, she invited Lucy to come to Charleston, if her 
 health grew more feeble, or in case any other event might render it 
 necessary for her to go to the city; gave her the street and num- 
 ber, demanding a promise in the affirmative. 
 
 *' If any unforeseen misfortune should fall, and you need a friend, 
 come to me !" she said cheerily. "I am not a stereotyped South- 
 erner. Make my acquaintance, my dear friend, as an exception to 
 the species. When memory has no other bright image, remember 
 Leonore." 
 
 Her parting hand sent a grateful and lasting warmth to Lucy's 
 isolation. The balm of that morning's unexpected and unsought 
 friendship lingered about the steps and occupations of Mrs. Steele 
 for weeks. The airy laugh, the burst of song, the sisterly voice 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 293 
 
 broke upon the silent air, and caused her pulses to throb with an 
 ecstasy quite alien to that of former days. The reflection that the 
 tender mind of her darling boy must inevitably be molded by the 
 very influences which her soul detested, that he must gradually 
 become cruel and indifferent to the woes of others, by constant 
 contact with slavery, that every divine and lovely attribute of his 
 childish nature would grow to a tyrannical and thorny selfishness, 
 were daily her most painful thought. Yet there seemed to be no 
 remedy ; a thick set wall seemed to hedge in her dearest wishes. 
 
 A few weeks after Leonore's departure, when the fires began to 
 brighten on hearths in country and town, a new revelation dawned 
 upon Lucy. Her husband often returned at evening with flushed 
 face and angry eyes. Excited and irritable, he forgot the respect 
 due to his wife ; accosted her and replied to her mild words, as if 
 she had no stronger claims upon his tenderness than the slaves he 
 herded in his fields. His little son, the idol of his pride and expec- 
 tations, often felt his father's harshness and fled sobbing to his 
 mother. It was evident to her that the common habit of a morning 
 glass of wine or brandy had grown to a giant, greater than he. If, 
 in his cool moments, she remonstrated with him, proposing to re- 
 move the dangerous stimulants from the sight and taste of litte 
 Willie, he rudely answered, — 
 
 '•' Let him alone. Everybody takes wine and brandy, at least 
 every Southerner. You would not be so squeamish, if you should 
 once look into the vaults of Mr. Fairland. There's a hogshead of 
 wine there for each of his children ; put in there at their birth, to 
 remain till they are married. Then there's every kind of liquor a 
 gentleman need to have ; old wines of every variety, the smoothest 
 gins, rums and brandies for common use. Surely you must be 
 ignorant indeed, when you don't know that at every high dinner 
 old cocks give, and young cocks too, for that matter, half these 
 grandees have to be put to bed by the servants. 
 
 My boy will drink toasts with the aristocracy. He'll drive 
 blooded horses with his pack of hounds. I'm in a fair way to set 
 him up. Willie Steele will be a politician, and politicians know 
 bow to drink. My Willie may go to Congress. And who ever saw 
 a Southern Congressman who does not know by practice, the exact 
 quality of brandies and wines. You are a woman, Lucy. What 
 
294 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 woman understands the requirements of a public man ? It is for 
 me to dictate, and for you to acquiesce." 
 
 Thus the dull, dreary days ripened and fell like the bitter fruit of 
 a blasted tree. Letters from home were frequent and affectionate, 
 but they afforded her only superficial comfort. She had never 
 unburdened to her parents her sufferings and regrets. 
 
 At the close of one of those rainy days when the clouds seem to 
 drift bodily to the earth, drenching woodland and plain with shining 
 sheets, Lucy ordered the spacious fireplace to be heaped with logs 
 and light-wood, that her husband should meet its cheery blaze and 
 pleasant warmth. Night shut down. The driving drops splashed on 
 the panes with unabated force. The supper waited. The old 
 black nurse crooned over her sleeping Willie, The cook in the 
 kitchen basted the roasted fowl, turned the long-done sweet pota- 
 toes, anxiously lifted the lid of the rice kettle, and soliloquized, — 
 
 " VVud be spile 1 " 
 
 Lucy watched the fire thoughtfully, and when the illuminated 
 room grew dim, had the fire replenished. Still Mr. Steele remained 
 absent. 
 
 The mantel clock struck eleven. Alarm took possession of the 
 household. Cook came courtseying to the door. 
 
 "My dear missis! where be de marser.'* ebryting spile." 
 
 Nurse laid Willie to rest, and suggested sending the boy to the 
 quarters to ask old Fry. He went and returned with Fry, who, 
 bowing low, knew nothing. 
 
 "See Marse Steele in de fiel' wid de mule-hands ploughing; de 
 rest clean trench, in de rice fieP." 
 
 "Take the lantern and go to the stables," said Lucy. "See if 
 his horse is there, Fr}\" 
 
 Old Fry obeyed. He soon stepped hurriedly back upon the 
 piazza, and dripping with pouring rain, answered, — 
 
 "De hos be dere, missis, wid de saddle on, stan' wid he nose on 
 de lock ; he wet as de groun'." 
 
 A premonitory fear of some impending horror paled her face 
 and deprived her of speech. Old nurse, ever watchful, spoke for 
 her. 
 
 "Go Fry! touse up de men in de quarters. Take dis lantern, 
 an' git de coachman lantern ter dQ big house, an' go straight to de 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 295 
 
 rice-fiel'. Look sharp on de way. Mebby de bos stumble and trow 
 Marse Steele, an' he break he leg. Tak' de pine torch for de man's. 
 Look all roun' ! Boy Bob, you 'tay here, by missis." 
 
 Turning to Lucy, she continued, — 
 
 " Beg missis to set dow' in easy chair ; keep up de good heart. 
 Ole Fry fin' marser soon. Bob, youse go in kitchen, tell cook stir 
 up de fire. Marse want suthin warm." 
 
 The clock struck twelve. Lucy opened the door, and anxiously 
 searched the darkness. The flaring torches and lanterns were 
 coming slowly up the bank. She closed the door and dropped into 
 her chair, stricken with dread. She heard a busde in the yard, 
 and then heavy steps on the piazza, as if they bore a weight. 
 
 Nurse motioned Lucy to remain, and stepped out, closing the 
 door after her. The heavy breathing of the men reached Lucy's 
 ear, and the sound of shuffling feet, depositing something heavily 
 on the floor. She hurried out. 
 
 *' Have you found my husband ? " 
 
 "Beg de' missis to go in. Ole Fry come in, tell all.' 
 
 " No, Fry, tell now ? Did you find Mr. Steele ? Where is he ? " 
 
 " He be here, dear missis — too muddy ! Fin, him in de trench. 
 Him can't speak, missis ! mebby he faint way." 
 
 " She pushed the men aside, peered at the floor, and called, — 
 
 " William ! William ! speak to me ! come in to the fire ! " know- 
 ing not what she said. '• Bring the lantern. Fry." 
 
 Nurse came after her, threw her arms round her mistress, and 
 strove to draw her in doors. Old Fry had whispered the dreadful 
 tiuth in the old nurse's ear. 
 
 " Come, dear missis ; wait a leetle ; com 'way ; mus' not look now. 
 Let ole Fry an' me ten' to marser. Come 'way." 
 
 Lucy tore open the old arms, caught the other lantern, and 
 rushed to the spot where her husband lay. The glare of the light 
 fell upon a stony face, besmeared with blood, and the mud of the 
 trench. Narrow rivulets of blood and muddy water dripped from 
 his clothes, and ran across the floor. She caught up his hand, cold 
 and stiff, calling wildly again, — 
 
 " William 1 William ! Dead ! Oh ! my Savior ! Dead ! " 
 
 The lantern fell from her grasp. The tender hands of old Fry 
 and the old nurse, supported Lucy, moaning, sobbing and trembling 
 
296 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 to the room, and laid her upon the settee. Old nurse directed Fry 
 to go to "Grand Palais" for Dorcas. 
 
 "I stay here wid poor, dear marser. Dorcas do all." 
 
 Lucy did not faint, but lay passively moaning and sobbing, her 
 physical strength stricken away, her mental action intensified. 
 She could see nothing but the stark, stony face of her husband. A 
 continued chill seemed to creep from his cold and rigid fingers 
 through her own, and settle with icy coldness upon the subtle 
 springs of life. Old nurse held the trembkng hands, stroked them 
 with a soft, magnetic touch, and smoothed her throbbing head. 
 
 Dorcas came lightly in, knelt by the lounge, slid one arm under 
 Lucy, and held her to her breast; murmuring dear and healing 
 words. She then stole out on her terrible errand of robing the 
 dead for his eternal sleep. The women at the quarters saw the 
 moving lights at the overseer's house, stole from their pallets, and 
 crowded the piazza around the dead man. Dorcas and Fry 
 hushed their astonishment and superstitious horrors to whispers. 
 
 They carried Mr. Steele to a vacant room in the kitchen build- 
 ing ; the women brought water and washed from the piazza every 
 trace that would " pain de dear missis eyes." Old Fry chose three 
 of the best men, and directed the others to go to their cabins. 
 Two women offered to stay" wid de cook." Dorcas was in the 
 kitchen with them, when Fry called her. The dead man's coat 
 and vest lay upon the floor, clotted with blood. Old Fry lifted the 
 blanket that covered William Steele, and pointed to a gaping 
 wound on his left side, over the heart. 
 
 " My Jesus ! " groaned Dorcas. "' Marse Steele was murdered. 
 Who has dared to do this ? to take this life .? " 
 
 "Dunno," solemnly answered Fry. " Dese hands do no mur- 
 der," showing both palms. " Ise wait de Lord time, howsomeber 
 I's sufferin." 
 
 Cook crept in and looked with frightened gaze over Dorcas* 
 shoulder, then shrunk back groaning, with her coarse apron to her 
 face. 
 
 "Pete, do you know anything about it?" questioned Dorcas. 
 
 " Dunno, Dorcas, more'n Fry. Marse Steele has bin drefful wid 
 we people las' fall an' dis winter. Cut up we back wicked." 
 
 " Dat so, Pete," said another of the three in a rich, powerful, 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 297 
 
 subdued voice. " Bribe, whip, cuss ebry day, till wese wear out. 
 I know tree of de people lay stiff in de groun' now, wid de bloody 
 flogin. But I dunno who stab dat big gash in he heart. My hand 
 clean like Fry." 
 
 " Marse Fairland gone way," said Dorcas; "so the best to be 
 done is to bind cotton on the wound, that young missis shall not 
 know to-night. Pete, you do hide dem clottered clothes, till Marse 
 Fairland see." 
 
 In the kitchen, Dorcas confided to the cook, that "it was spoken 
 by missis and de young ladies, dat de oberseer was too cruel, and 
 de negroes might revenge." 
 
 "Well," replied cook, placidly, "we flesh an' blood too. Can't 
 b'ar ebryting. Poor Miss Lucy, all 'lone now. She one. De 
 Lord bless her. IMarse Fairland do nottin for nobody, but hisself." 
 
 " I shall vise Miss Lucy to go to Charleston," whispered Dorcas. 
 " Miss Leonore, so gay and so beautiful, told me to persuade 
 her to go to her house, if anything happen." Drawing nearer to 
 cook's ear, " I believe Miss Leonore know de oberseer in danger." 
 
 "I glad de young lady lub Miss Lucy," said cook. "Marse 
 Fairlan' young ladies neber turn head towards her." 
 
 Dorcas had everything prepared for the body in Lucy's small 
 parlor, and soon the heavy, shuffling steps of the four black men 
 moved slowly past the door of Lucy's room, with the lifeless bur- 
 den. Lucy noticed the sound, and clung closer to nurse, sobbing 
 and moaning more helpless than before. Dorcas came in soon 
 after, knelt again by the lounge, soothed the aching head of Lucy, 
 informed her that her work was finished, and insisted that she and 
 the nurse must take rest and sleep if possible. She herself would 
 stay till late in the morning. 
 
 Lucy rose quickly, and proceeded to the room where her erring, 
 but still beloved husband slept in death. Dorcas slid her strong 
 arm about her waist, and walked by her side. The wife was struck 
 by the fierce bitterness, frozen into his last expression. The white 
 face lacked the calm, restful peace which often settles upon the 
 beloved, and robs death of half its agony. Lucy laid warm kisses 
 upon the cold, passive forehead, and upon the white, unanswering 
 lips. The thought of this sudden and insidious approach of her 
 adversity caused her to exclaim, — 
 
298 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " Can it be possible that I shall never hear his voice again ? 
 Is it true that William is dead? Dorcas! Dorcas! what could 
 have been the cause? He was perfectly well this morning. He 
 rode to the door and took little Willie in front of him, and gave 
 him a short canter. He was in good spirits." Breaking down 
 with moans and tears, she exclaimed, " What can have done this ? " 
 
 Dorcas adroitly veiled the truth, by showing how the horse 
 might have become frightened, and thrown his master stunned 
 into the muddy water of the trench, where he might have been 
 drowned. 
 
 Old nurse, who had followed them into the room, raised her 
 voice in comfort. 
 
 " Dear missis, mus* trus' de Lord. Him hab done all. Wese 
 nottin but de rice stalk. Him cut we down when he be ready. 
 Trus' de blessed Jesus, my dear missis. Lay you griebin heart in 
 his han'." 
 
 "Come out to de fire," urged Dorcas, gently drawing her away. 
 
 "And leave him here in the cold alone? " sobbed Lucy. 
 
 " Yes, missis must do ihat. You will get sick. Marse Steele 
 will never be cold no more. De lamps will burn bright in this 
 room till day, and I shall be often in and out." 
 
 So the dear girl yielded to tlie loving care of her black friends, 
 and laid her head upon her wretched pillow. 
 
 Rev. Edmund Stone officiated at the burial ceremony. Lucy, 
 leaning on the arm of Dorcas, and followed by the overseers at 
 " Success," " Staple " and " Snowfield," with a few of the men at 
 the quarters, went down to the magnolia grove by the river, and 
 laid William Steele in the bosom of the land he had chosen for his 
 own. 
 
 Lucy now felt that the bond of her stay in the South was bro- 
 ken. She longed for hoipe, and the social freedom of New Eng- 
 land. The desire of removing her son from the baleful influence 
 of a slave district, urged her departure, -^he financial settlement 
 of her husband's affairs demanded the advice and labor of an 
 attorney. Thus she was compelled to visit Charleston, a city of 
 stangers and high caste. The remerabrance of Leonore's strange 
 request occurred to her mind, — "I am not a stereotyepd South- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 299 
 
 erner, make my acquaintance," was a frank invitation,— yet she 
 hesitated to comply. 
 
 Dorcas came to the rescue. 
 
 "Go to Miss Leonore," slie urged ; "she good ; she want you or 
 she never mvite. Now Miss Steele, she told me to 'member and 
 tell you to visit her whensoever vou go to the city. Write note, 
 missis ; get anoder to-morrow. Write now. Bob carry it to de 
 office right 'way." 
 
 The note was written. The next day post brought a warm invi- 
 tation. Was received for a week ; also information that Leonore's 
 iincle, a lawyer, would undertake any business she might desire to 
 place in his hands. Mr. Fairland allowed her to be driven to 
 Charleston in a chaise. She arrived after dark. At sight of the 
 brilliantly lighted mansion, courage nearly deserted her.° A trem- 
 ulous pull at the street bell brought the quick step of a servant 
 down the marble walk. He seemed to have received instructions, 
 begged to know if her name was Mistress Steele, and ushered her 
 up the high-lighted staircase to Leonore's private room, where the 
 brave girl awaited her arrival. 
 
 The Wallaces dwelt in the luxury of " Le Grand Palais." 
 Amid the carpets, curtains, pictures and upholstery of her friend's 
 elegant boudoir, Lucy feft herself an intruder. It was the tea 
 hour. Lucy's dread of meeting the aristocratic glances at the 
 family table, was relieved by Leonore's ring, and the appearance of 
 her short, dwarfish m.aid. 
 
 " ' Toad,' bring tea to my room for two ; my friend is weary with 
 a long ride. Toad, bring the tea hot, and plenty of goodies ! 
 remember, I am voracious to-night." 
 
 The blackj stumpy figure courtesied, while her face warmed into 
 an affectionate smile. 
 
 " Do all for missis." 
 
 "And for my friend, Toad," said Leonore. 
 
 A cheerful "Yes, missis" was the reply. 
 
 Toad repeated her mistress' order in the hall, and returned to 
 draw two Chinese tables from their nest. These tables of shining 
 black, were embellished with gilded pagodas, fanciful bridges, 
 boats and fantastic trees of weeping foliage. Toad farther adorned 
 with purest china and silver. 
 
300 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 The tea was delightful, seasoned with the hearty welcome and 
 consideration of the lovely hostess. Toad stood near and waited 
 with evident affection for her young lady, and seemed to be in no 
 wise excluded from her plans or discussions. 
 
 " Now, Mrs. Steele," said Leonore after tea, " I beg you to rest 
 and feel as much secluded from intrusion as you desire. These 
 apartments are ours. I have given orders to receive this week in 
 the parlors." 
 
 "Your friendship and attention are grateful to me beyond ex- 
 pression 1 " replied Lucy, " more especially since my bereavement. 
 I desire not to trespass upon your time, or the tastes of your 
 family." 
 
 "Oh, my time is nothing, the house is full of servants, and my 
 dear, you are not the guest of my family, but my own, and I have 
 a darling old uncle who will meet you as his own daughter. I 
 have apprised him of your coming." 
 
 Wisely avoiding the subject of her husband's death, Leonore 
 inquired if Mrs. Steele intended to go North. 
 
 "I do intend to leave in the course of the winter, if my affairs 
 can be adjusted in time. Mr. Steele held slaves, r^Iiss Wallace. 
 It is my design to take them as my portion of his property. I 
 trust what I am about to say will give you no offence. I intend 
 to free therrf, and take them North with me; or if it is better, to 
 take them North and free them there." 
 
 " No offence whatever, my dear friend. I sincerely believe 
 freedom to be the birthright of every human being. Our slaves 
 are styled chattels, but that does in no wise change the case. 
 They belong to the universal human family, and freedom is their 
 inheritance, robbed of it as they may be. However, Mrs. Steele, 
 I can do nothing. My dearest associations, my happiest memo- 
 ries, my home alfectiuns, my earthlv^ possessions are held in the 
 ghoulish clutch of our ' domestic institution,' as it is termed, il'w 
 are free to act. A Northern home, and a parental welcome await 
 you. I most heartily approve of your decision. My Scotch blood 
 bears with it a noble germ of freedom, but it can never germinate 
 here." 
 
 "My way seems to have been prepared before me, in receiving 
 the offer of your valuable friendship, Miss Wallace, and I assure 
 
 ^k 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 30I 
 
 you it is most gratefully appreciated. How will your good uncle, 
 
 the attorney, meet my proposition ? " 
 
 '•With entire approval, and all requisite assistance. He detests 
 bondage as I do, and yet the very fibres of his life are entwined 
 in it." 
 
 Toad provided a basket of oranges and bananas. While par- 
 taking of these, Lucy discussed with her friend a suit of mourning 
 for herself. Leonore would have crapes, bombazines and bonnets 
 brought to her room for Lucy's inspection and choice. She also 
 insisted upon having her dressmaker come to the house, to cut 
 and fit Lucy's dresses under her eye, tliat she might take them to 
 the country for completion. 
 
 Lucy's faded eyes slowly brightened — a transient flush flitted 
 often to her cheek. She felt a new, healthy hope infused into her 
 spirits by the frank and genial manner of her young, high-bred 
 hostess. A luxuriant, refreshing sleep also fortified her for the 
 events of the next day. At an early city hour, the carriage, with 
 liveried driver and footman, was at the door. 
 
 "Come my dear — shall I call j^ou Lucy? — allow me, my dear 
 Lucy — that is better. We are going to uncle's office ; he will have 
 more leisure for us at this hour." 
 
 Now Lucy's heart misgave her. Mr. Fairland's carriage had 
 ever passed her and rolled scornfully away. To enter this elegant 
 equipage, when custom, caste, and her own pride forbade, must be 
 but a polite acquiescence in the wish of her friend. 
 
 The drive was animating. The horses dashed off, exploring the 
 blue, hazy, level streets, turning corners briskly, clattering over 
 jDavements, or throwing sand from springy heels, in the suburbs. 
 Mansions of American lords, and huts of their serfs, glided past. 
 
 "This is a long drive," remarked Lucy. 
 
 "Not too long," gleefully responded Leonore. "TVe must take 
 an airing this lovely morning. You must see Charleston. This is 
 not equal to our forest gallop at 'Le Grand Palais.' That was an 
 eventful one. We rode into the jaws of death, and were halted 
 none too soon." 
 
 "It was an eventful ride, especially to me. Miss Leonore. I 
 cannot understand the promptings that led you to follow my lonely 
 
302 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 path, or that induced you to offer hospitality to one reckoned so 
 low in the Southern social scale." 
 
 "That enigma has an easy solution. I liked j-our face and ap- 
 pearance. I abhorred the foolish pride that would condemn you 
 to years of ostracism, simply because you were the wife of an over- 
 seer. I discerned your worth, and resolved to pay your haughty 
 neighbors well for their cold neglect. The ride proved my judg- 
 ment correct. My dear Lucy, you should never have married in 
 the manner you did. It was a misfortune. It has dwarfed the 
 noble and lovely aspirations native to your soul. In yielding, you 
 have felt yourself debased; yet with woman's patient tact you have 
 striven to be happy — a desire which you could not accomplish. 
 Am I not a seer ? " 
 
 As these words were spoken, Lucy's eyes met the keen, respect 
 ful glance of Leonore. She hesitated in giving a reply that would 
 lay bare to the eye of another the bitter dregs which lay at the 
 bottom of this cup of marriage, of which she at first drank so ea- 
 gerly, and later, so resignedly. It seemed that her husband's grave 
 should conceal all past sufferings from mortal sight. 
 
 " Pardon me — have I wounded you ? " asked Leonore. " It was 
 not my intention ; I desired to prove my sincerity in offering 
 friendship." 
 
 " Far from it, Miss Wallace. I cannot doubt the sincerity of the 
 disinterested friendship which you offer. But I have deemed it a 
 duty to bury in my husband's grave the painful experiences of our 
 Southern life. You have read my secret too well." 
 
 " My dear Lucy, do you not see } We cannot follow the divine 
 injunction, 'Bear one another's burdens,' unless we know the na- 
 ture and weight of those burdens. We cannot put forth the neces- 
 sary strength. It is a relief to you to be well understood by the 
 one who attempts to sympathyze." 
 
 "Truly, my dear friend, your words are a cordial to my needs ; 
 and believe me. Heaven must reward you for extending to me in 
 this most t-iying period of my life this unlocked for comfort and aid. 
 
 The carriage drew up before the office of the attorney. A stal- 
 wart gentleman, past the middle age, with a sprinkling of gray upon 
 his head, hastened to the carriage steps, and met his niece with a 
 hale, cheery welcome. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 303 
 
 "Here comes my ' Heather Bell' ! " He extended both hands 
 to assist her from the carriage, meanwhile quoting Burns in a sono- 
 rous voice. 
 
 " O my luve's like a red-eed rose, 
 
 That's newly sjDrung in June 1 
 O my luve's like a melodie, 
 
 That's sweetly played in tune ! 
 As fair art thou, my'bonnie lass ! 
 
 So deep in luve am I ; 
 And I will luve thee still my dear, 
 , Till all the seas gang dry I " 
 
 In his office, Lucy felt constraint banished, by his genial man 
 ners, by the heartiness with which he advised and entered into he- 
 plans. She could return to the country, leaving all in his handsr 
 He would collect the dues for the hire of Marquis, he would make 
 out the free papers for him, and for Binah with her children • he 
 would arrange Mr. Steele's cash deposits in the bank, so thai it 
 should await her order in New York. The passage ticket for her- 
 self and her freed slaves should be ready for her departure 
 
 As she rose to take leave, he seemed to have observed the shade 
 of anxiety on her face, and when he kindly bade her ^ood-mornino- 
 he said, — ^ ^* 
 
 " Be of good cheer, lassie ! Get the roses back to your cheeks 
 before you meet your Northern friends. Have no fears concern- 
 ing the course you have taken. Be assured upon my honor, that 
 our interview this day will not reach the public ear, or subject you 
 fair lady, to the least inconvenience. I return you to the kind 
 hands that led you here. Leonore is a bold defender of the ri^ht 
 and she'll be as true to you as Jennie Deans." ^ * 
 
 ^ He turned to his niece with a look of fond idolatry, a^ain repeat- 
 ing Burns. ^ ./^ £3 I' 
 
 " Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest ! 
 Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest! 
 Thine be ilka joy and treasure, 
 Peace, enjoyment, love and pleasure." 
 
 Lucy drew a sigh of happy relief, when the dashing horses 
 whirled away. The dreaded task was over. 
 
304 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 *'Gocl bless him!" she soliloquized. " There are noble men 
 and woman everywhere, if one but finds them." 
 
 So say we, dear reader. God bless him! for he had poured the 
 wine of his strength into the fainting spirit of his stricken //-d?/^;^^^. 
 
 The nascent impulses of her being were springing into life, the 
 harbingers of happier days. 
 
 " I am so glad it is all over," she said to Leonore. 
 
 "I am glad for you, dearie," replied the proud girl. "That 
 uncle is a shield and buckler to the defenceless. 1 have done 
 nothing for you yet. I shall set directly about t-aking my turn now. 
 I shall call at the shops, and order your mourning suit sent home 
 this morning. In the rest and quiet of our own room, we will se- 
 lect. I have already ordered Madame Le Ronde to send a dress- 
 maker." 
 
 The driver reined up several times to fashionable shops. The 
 footman flew to his post at the carriage door, \\ hence Leonore 
 fluttered in and out, like a happy, careless bird from its cage. 
 Curious eyes of piomenaders cast scrutinizing glances between the 
 curtains, upon the face within, but dropped them as quickly, or 
 turned away with a respectful feeling of intrusion. Lucy heard one 
 remark to another, — 
 
 " Faultless as Juno! High blood there." 
 
 " That's so," replied the other. " You will find no other in the 
 Wallace carriage." 
 
 At home again in the lovely room of her hostess. Toad served a 
 delicious lunch ; iced cakes, preserved fruits, cream, flavored as 
 usual with the bright words and delicate attentions of her Leonore. 
 In the ante-room, a young and handsome quadroon seamstress 
 waited their pleasure. The goods arrived quickly ; merchants and 
 sewing-women appeared, bent upon pleasing this high-toned family. 
 The remaining time of her stay, devoted to cutting and fitting, 
 passed rapidly away. 
 
 One evening, as both sat before the glowing grate, conversation 
 turned upon the pretty dressmaker, who had sometime before taken 
 her departure. 
 
 '' Is she not handsome, Lucy ? " asked Leonore. 
 
 " I have often found myself admiring, not only her figure and 
 features, but have been struck by her gentle grace and vivacity.^' 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 305 
 
 *' True ; the same with myself ; but then I know she has a law- 
 ful claim to these singular attractions ; three-fourths of her blood is 
 what they term the blue blood of the South. It crept into her 
 veins from two of the most illustrious names of this State ; and 
 yet she is but a slave ! subject to the vices of her condition ! 
 condemned to labor for her scanty bread ! forced to accept the love 
 of Carolina's proudest sons, and to yield it up at their capricious 
 mood, though her life go with it. I knew her father well. He 
 was about to marry a Saxon wife, when he forbade this girl an 
 entrance to his princely mansion, lest a chance sight of her should 
 give pain to the fair new claimant of his affections." 
 
 '• It is to be hoped there are not many such instances of aban- 
 donment," replied Lucy. 
 
 "It is the general rule ; this girl may be multiplied by thou- 
 sands! These beautiful creatures of mixed blood have their horo- 
 scopes cast under ill-fated stars. Their wrongs cry to Heaven for 
 redress." 
 
 " Leonore, you do not suppose these girls are chosen at the im- 
 pulse of affection ? " 
 
 '' Most assuredly I do. A Southron never chooses what he ab- 
 hors. It is love — the same love that would lead a wife to the altar. 
 
 * Love, like death 
 Levels all ranks, and lays the shepherd's crook 
 Beside the sceptre ! ' 
 
 " Man molds law and custom to his own liking. For woman, he 
 changes his divinest attributes to instruments of torture." 
 
 "And none shall say nay," answered Lucy. 
 
 " Not in this day ; but by the intuitive aspirations of my own 
 nature, by the irrepressible indignation of my own soul, there must 
 be a ' red-letter day ' somewhere in the economy of progression for 
 woman. There must be honor and justice awaiting her some- 
 where. 
 
 " Lucy, I congratulate you upon your return to New England, 
 to a more wholesome, social atmosphere than this. I should 
 prefer Northern snows and ices, to flower- wreathed corruption. 
 In enslaving the African race, we have become mutually enslaved 
 ourselves.'" 
 
3o6 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " I have not the courage of the Misses Grimke, who left homes 
 of luxury and opulence, for the rough paths of Truth and Right- 
 eousness. It requires much self denial and strength of purpose, 
 to leave this pleasant land, friends, luxury, and the ease of a life 
 like yours, Leonore." 
 
 •' Those two requisites the Misses Grimke possessed. The 
 sacriiices of those two ladies in going out from all they held dear 
 in Charleston, has no parallel, I am confident, in this country. 
 They were delicately reared, followed by slaves from infancy, of 
 excellent ancestry, and surrounded by the allurements of rank and 
 wealth. They have lectured in the North, in New York and 
 Boston. Have you ever had the pleasure of their acquaintance ? " 
 
 Lucy replied in the negative, adding, — 
 
 " My life till marriage passed mostly in the quiet home-nest ; 
 the voices of reformers seldom reached us. This distracting 
 Constitutional question of which I have heard and seen so much 
 in this section, scarcely disturbed our peace." 
 
 " Very different here," said Leonore. " It is the subject of 
 conversation at home and abroad. One would suppose our 
 'Southern Institution' was the axis on which the religious, moral 
 and political destiny of the universe turned." 
 
 This was Lucy's last evening in Charleston ; every word of this 
 closing interview endeared Leonore to her grateful remembrance. 
 She had not been presented to the members of the family, or the 
 family table, except on one occasion, when the good uncle dined 
 with the Wallaces. 
 
 Leonore's mother, after a long remonstrance against the 
 vulgarity of admitting an overseer's wife to the family table, 
 absented herself therefrom. The advent of this dinner was a cold 
 one, but the father and brother yielded to the charms of their 
 guest, and Lucy shared in the gallantry and etiquette due to her 
 culture and attractions. 
 
 The servant and chaise of Mr. Fair! and carried her back to her 
 beloved child the next day. Dorcas took her from the chaise 
 into her own arms ; old nurse stood by with little Willie on her 
 shoulder. The cook ran from her kitchen, breathless with warm- 
 hearted " Howdies ; " young Bob showed the handsomest set of 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 307 
 
 ivory ; and gathering his arms full of packages, fell into the rear of 
 the procession into the house. 
 
 " De young missis look well," they exclaimed. 
 
 " Look so better/' said the old nurse. 
 
 "Miss Leonore good frien','' said the cook; "make missis look 
 hansum gin. Little Willie been good chile ; Dorcas tote him ebry 
 day." 
 
 The affectionate greeting of Lucy's true-hearted friends was 
 another draught of strength. Her boy had never been so dear as 
 after this long absence. She held him to her heart, bestowing 
 kisses upon his chubby face and dimpled hands. Surely, she 
 thought, out of my barren life, one snowy blossom has sprung. 
 *' Oh ! he shall be saved from a Southern destiny. I will guide 
 his feet into pure and innocent paths. He shall redeem his 
 father's errors ; he shall be my pride and joy." 
 
 Preparations for her departure went steadily forward. Accord- 
 ing to her commands, Binah, her children and grandchildren, were 
 sent to the house to make the acquaintance of their new mistress, 
 and to get the confidence of little Willie, for Binah should be his 
 traveling nurse. 
 
 One day when Binah and her mistress were alone, Lucy asked, — 
 
 " Do vou like the North, Binah ? " 
 
 " Dunno missis ; dunno de Nort, missis." 
 
 " Would you like to be free, Binah ? " 
 
 " ]\Ie no free in 'Merriky ; me free in Afriky ; me free dere in de 
 big wood ; free under date tree. Me free by de riber wid de gol* 
 san'. No free in 'Merriky." 
 
 "Yes Binah, you can be free, and I shall make you free in the 
 North, where we are going. Binah will be no slave there." 
 
 " Dat can't be nowhar ; mus bab de marse, de oberseer." 
 coolly replied the unbelieving voice of the African. 
 
 "Yes, it can be, Binah ; it willho.. You will have no master, no 
 mistress, or overseer." 
 
 The articles she held in her hands fell into the box she was pack- 
 ing. Dropping quickly upon her knees before Lucy, she bowed 
 before her even to touching her forehead to the floor, after the 
 manner of a Moslem worshipper. Since she had been stolen from 
 
308 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 the green labyrinths of her native country, she had learned a better 
 name than her dumb idol or Fetich. She therefore called upon the 
 new Helper; sighs and groans mingled with "Oh! Jesus, mine 
 Jesus! Heabenly Marster ! Binah free! Tink Binah chilen all 
 sell in de Nort country ! " 
 
 Lucy counteracted the mistaken sorrow by soothing words, bid- 
 ding her rise to her feet. She was so perfect a slave, that to have 
 undertaken to make her sit, would have doubled the difticultv. 
 
 " Now Binah, do raise your eyes and look at me while I make 
 you understand all." 
 
 " Can't look * buckra ' ! You be missis ! " 
 
 Her eyes raised however, but raised wide of the mark. 
 
 "Now look me in my face," said Lucy, "you are looking to my 
 right." 
 
 " Look to young Marse Willie," said Binah. 
 
 The ludicrousness of this first lessen in freedom struck both. 
 Lucy could not restrain a burst of laughter. A frightened smile 
 played round Binah's snowy ivory, whiter than the elephant tusks 
 in her native jungles. 
 
 " Binah," resumed her mistress, "you must look people in the 
 face, North, for you will work for them, and take the money in your 
 own hands. It will be yours, and you can go to the stores and buy 
 what you please with it for yourself and your children. Your chil- 
 dren will be free also, and never be sold away. They will live 
 with you forever. They can go to school and learn the book, like 
 Mr. Fairland's children." 
 
 Binah moved not. Her hands and eyes were raised upwards. 
 The smile changed into a look of intense and solemn adoration. 
 
 " Tank de Lord ! Bress he name ! " 
 
 Lucy recalled her attention. 
 
 "Do you understand, Binah?" 
 
 " Yes, missis ! me dig sweet tater, tote rice, hoe de cotton in de 
 Nort, an' hab de money me one ; hab my chilen, neber sole." 
 
 Her weak conception could not grasp the full idea of freedom. 
 She asked, looking away to the south window, — 
 
 " No driver whip dere missis for Binah back ? No t'umb screw ? " 
 
 " No, no ! no driver, no whip, no cotton, no rice, no thumb-screw, 
 no overseers there." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 309 
 
 "What Binah an' de chilen do widout de cotton and de yam?" 
 
 " You can learn to scrub and wash, perhaps to cook. You will 
 get plenty of work and heap of money ; wash for everybody. Now 
 you see we are alone in this room. I have told you that you w'ill 
 be free, so you can be happy on your journey ; but Binah, look at 
 me ! No one here knows a word of it, not even old nurse. Can 
 you keep it a secret .^ keep it in here ?" pointing to her heart. 
 " These masters might prevent it ; do not tell one of the servants." 
 
 "Me neber spoke one settle word. Me tell only Jesus in de 
 dark night, when roll up in de blanket on de fioo'." 
 
 Binah went on packing. It was a happiness to Lucy, to witness 
 the daily change settling upon the seamed and patient face of her 
 slave ; the mysterious elasticity which crept into every step ; the 
 quickened ear to catch the least expression of her mistress' wishes, 
 her tender devotion to little Willie, and her watchful reticence 
 towards the other servants. The dull, apathetic bond slave became 
 the quick, eager, active, sisterly woman, almost bearing Lucy in her 
 arms through the difficulties of a final removal from the home of 
 years. 
 
 One week had passed since she left Leonore. Little Willie, wild 
 with infantile gayety the night previous, awoke in the morning, hot 
 with the ever-dreaded fever flush. All day the pale mother held 
 her darling in her tired arms. At sunset, his pulses indicated no 
 improvement. The parish physician came, thought the malady 
 might yield to prescriptions, and left. 
 
 The watches of the long, anxious night were kept with Lucy, by 
 Dorcas, Binah and old nurse. She was forced to yield the charge 
 of her boy to others, and to sink weeping and fainting upon a couch 
 of rest. 
 
 Morning symptoms excited new alarm. His weak voice called 
 deliriously for papa. " Papa ! papa ! papa gone ! " thus innocently, 
 painfully weaving Lucy's past with the agonizing present. 
 
 The setting sun cast his crimson rays upon the marble face and 
 white shroud of little Willie, in the same room where his father was 
 laid. On a sofa, drawn close to the side of the child, reposed the 
 w^hite and scarcely breathing figure of Lucy. Her heavy eyes were 
 fixed upon her lost darling, and no persuasion could separate her 
 from him. Equally inflexible was Binah, standing hour after hour 
 
3IO WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 at the feet of her bereaved mistress and the beautiful dead. Her 
 hand hushed every voice and softened every step. 
 
 Two days after, a mournful procession move again to the shade 
 of the magnolias by the river. Lucy's heroic fortitude failed at the 
 open grave, prepared for the tender being which had nestled in her 
 fondest affections. She sank upon the sod and embraced the tiny 
 flower-wreathed cofhn, as if to hold it forever from its tomb. Her 
 moans and uncontrollable grief brought tears to every eye. 
 
 Dorcas and Binah wound their loving arms about her and im- 
 plored her to return with them. 
 
 "Leave him wid his papa, dearie. See how de sun smile roun' 
 him now. De Lord take care Willie ; come 'way, dearie. Him 
 anoel now,'* whispered Binah, motioning to the others to let his 
 coffin remain on the grass, till they had reached the house. They 
 almost bore her there, to her apartment and to her bed. 
 
 A long, tedious sickness followed, in its terrible and debilitating 
 course. Reason became dethroned and thus the two-edged sword 
 of her calamity became blunted. Youth and a good constitution 
 prevailed. She slowly recovered and calmly took up the thread of 
 life, where it had been parted. 
 
 Thus perished the name of William Steele from the face of the 
 earth. Thus, in the death of his son, did retributive justice demand 
 payment for the fair and frail young life, which years before, he 
 threw out upon the surging waves of a cruel destiny. 
 
 CHAPTER XVL 
 
 THE library of General Terreciene was thrown open to the 
 charms of the surrounding gardens. The general, with his 
 four guests, reposed in various easy positions on the broad piazza, 
 in front of the long windows open to the floor. 
 
 These were Dentelle of Georgia, Rev. Fred Warham from 
 *' Breezy Bluff," South CaroHna, Colonel Ashland and Chancellor 
 Mowndes from Charleston. 
 
 It was just after a luxurious dinner; continued conversation was 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 31I 
 
 a fruitless effort, and each held a book or paper, reading, ponder- 
 ing or smoking, each to his liking. 
 
 Within, the glass doors of the oaken book-cases lined with green 
 fluted satin, were either ajar or swung open, disclobing the costly- 
 treasures of the world of science and mind in their material dress 
 of elegant bindings. 
 
 The air within and without, was perfumed with sweetness. The 
 sun sank lower, till the slant rays of its setting so illuminated and 
 vivified the floral colors and greens of the garden, that massive 
 rubies, topazes, amethysts, turquoises and pearls seemed suspended 
 among Aladdin-like foliage of beryl and chrysoprase. 
 
 Here and there, in the grounds, were evergreen divans and chairs, 
 trimmed into forms according to French taste. There were ever- 
 green tables ; from the centres of their clipped velvety plains, roses 
 and clustered blossoms spring up as if a vase of cut flowers were 
 placed thereon. There were roses of vivid, fiery-red, and carmine 
 shaded with purple ; overhanging the arms of these leafy divans 
 and chairs, climed Bourbon Roses for the pleasure of the fays and 
 fairies that might sit there in the dewy moonlight. 
 
 The greenish-white "Bourbon Queen" here, and the "Glory of 
 France," there. 
 
 Down at the end of a broad w^hite, gravelled walk fronting the 
 library, stood a white marble "Terpsichore," whose stony grace 
 warmed to pinken flesh in the crimson evening rays. Her fingers 
 rested on the strings of her lyre ; her bare feet and half nude limbs 
 were in the attitude of an airy dance. 
 
 A tall, thrifty rose, the Empereur dii Moroc appropriately shot up 
 by her side, and laid a voluptuous blossom and bud of blooded car- 
 mine on her marble shoulder, and a royal cluster on her rounded 
 arm. She seemed to dance on their velvety hearts, which bent 
 purposely around and beneath her feet. 
 
 On the right of the walk towards the red sun, a glittering foun- 
 tain threw up its slender jets, which broke into crystal spray and 
 drops of rainbow hues, as they fell back in curves into the shallow 
 marble basin, and dripped musically from its scalloped, shell-like 
 border. 
 
 The carriage drive into this paradise of beauty and fragrance 
 led from the dusty street, under an ornamental iron arch, festooned 
 
312 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 with ivy, its hard track ran past the piazza and wound around the 
 garden and fountain. From the piazza eaves, over the entrance to 
 the Hbrar}^ dropped heavy yellow buds and blossoms of the " Cloth 
 of Gold " intertwined with the tiny pink clusters of a more delicate 
 climber. 
 
 Soon the glories of the garden in dusky twilight faded into beau- 
 tiful phantoms, and the library was lighted by its gold-bronzed 
 chandeliers. 
 
 Tier upon tier of crystal fringes around this corona of light, 
 caught up the fragmentary rainbows of the fountain, and cast their 
 fairy scintillations down upon the guests, now slowly gathering be- 
 neath its glory. Carriages rolled in, under the ivy-wreathed arch. 
 Servants in livery waited on the piazza to welcome those arriving to 
 the luxuries of Southern hospitalities. 
 
 Two spacious parlors in a line with the library, opened from it 
 into one. The elegance and extravagance of the French furniture 
 satisfied the most fastidious. Vases of living flowers scattered 
 fragrance from every corner, table, bracket and other improvised 
 repositories. The mossy carpet vied with the garden in roses, 
 campanulas and Eleur-dc-lis. These two salojis were lighted by 
 several massive silver candelabra, fastened to the walls. From 
 their bases were suspended silver baskets of exquisite flowers, 
 whose tall clusters shot up among the bright chasings or entwined 
 the polished shafts, seeming to feed the soft flames of the waxen 
 candles with their delicious aroma. 
 
 General Terreceine, the lordly owner of this palatial home in St. 
 Louis, had never done a hand's turn of labor in his life. The ex- 
 tent of physical exertion from his childhood, was the conveyance of 
 epicurean morsels from a china plate to his mouth ; to lift to his 
 critical lips crystal glasses of various-hued wines, from the most 
 celebrated vintages of the old world : to inhale the indolent narco- 
 tine of tobacco leaves rolled in seductive forms ; to rise, unaided 
 from his chair and pass through doors opening at his approach and 
 closing after him, without an effort on his part ; to proceed to his 
 waiting carriage and be driven with ease and swiftness to any point 
 his will might dictate ; to hold the papers of the day in his two soft 
 white hands, and to gloat over Southern political successes, or to 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 313 
 
 Stamp with fury under his feet, editorials and items hinting at any 
 accountability higher than the American slave-holder. 
 
 General Terreceine's manners often attained to the address of 
 the courtier; when occasion required, his sweetness of speech 
 could not be surpassed. This evening was one of those occasions. 
 
 His salons were filled with the proud and gay elite of St. Louis. 
 The fashion, beauty, wit and sentiment of his native city thronged 
 the fairy rooms, or swept out into the broad and fragrant walks of 
 the moonlighted gardens. Balmy as a morning zephyr, his voice 
 attuned to the low, soft tones of an Eolian harp, the general glided 
 among the smiling dames and demoiselles of Missouri's peerage. 
 
 It was well understood that the brilHant assemblage was called 
 together in honor of his distinguished guests from the two Atlantic 
 States, South Carolina and Georgia, Colonel Ashland, Rev. Frederic 
 Warham, Major Dentelle and Chancellor Mowndes. 
 
 _ The introductions were unexceptional on both sides. Ladies 
 vied with each other in bestowing marked favors upon these emi- 
 nent sons of the South. The silver moonlight, the flower-fed can- 
 delabra, and the iris-hued chandelier paled beneath the sparkling 
 brightness and the welcoming glances of Missouri's fair daughters. 
 
 The public prowess of Calhoun and Benton, their respective 
 leaders, received the sweet-lipped homage of woman. Madame 
 Archibald, the elegant and acknowledged leader of St. Louis ton, 
 sitting near Colonel Ashland, congratulated him upon the public- 
 spirited demonstration of the freedom-loving citizens of Charleston, 
 in the burning of the Northern mails, holding incendiary matter. 
 
 Mrs. Lambelle, who had just entered from a stroll in the garden 
 on the arm of the Rev. Fred, begged to be informed of the particu- 
 lars ; she had but just returned from Italy and knew nothing at all 
 of the affair. 
 
 ^ " Colonel Ashland, let us all hear. We are your most attentive 
 listeners " echoed several voices. 
 
 "I am forced to say, my dear ladies, with much regret, that I 
 was not present; but can refer you to my friend. Chancellor 
 Mowndes, a Charlestonian and a participant in that scene." 
 
 With a slight motion of his hand, he called that gentleman from 
 the library to the inquiring group about him. Mrs. Lambelle, still 
 standing, preferred her request to the chancellor. She was the 
 
314 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 most beautiful woman in that assembly; youthful, and in the luxu- 
 riant bloom of those physicsl perfections, which are considered 
 necessary to the idols of high-bred gentlemen of the world. Her 
 skin was of satiny whiteness, with a color of palest apple-blossom 
 tint. Her child-like, dimpling neck and rounded arms were bare, 
 and glittering with diamonds — the insignia of rank in those days. 
 Her abundant hair was the admiration of every beholder ; its color 
 was unique. Neither sandy, that were too warm; neither flaxen, 
 that were too cold. It was not maize, but had a shade of each, 
 something between the shining filaments of corn- silk and the pale 
 gloss of wheaten straw. She came at sunset, to Madame Terreceine, 
 wearing it in long, braided coils about her head, supported by a 
 comb of Turquoise and diamonds. The madame, meeting her in 
 the spacious dressing-room with an affectionate embrace, begged 
 her consent to wear those braids unbound for the evening, as she 
 saw it in a recent call at the house of her friend, with whom Mrs. 
 Lambelle was staying. 
 
 " Oh ! " said Madame Terreceine, " your entrancing vision has 
 haunted me ever since that day. You shall be the goddess " Ceres " 
 with the beautiful wheaten harvests of our Western land floating 
 about your superb shoulders. Mo?i Dieu ! ravissant f " 
 
 " Since you desire it, my dear madame, I cannot doubt the pro- 
 priety," replied the fair Lambelle ; and calling Cossetina, her little 
 Italian maid, brought from Florence, she bade her in Italian re- 
 move the comb and unloose the braids. The maid took from her 
 mistress' dressing-case, a diamond crescent, fastened it to a narrow 
 band of blue velvet, and fixed it at the parting above her brow. 
 Now, as she stood in expectation, leaning upon the arm of her 
 escort, every eye was fixed upon her wonderful beauty. 
 
 Her trailing robe of pale blue gauze, sprinkled with silver, was 
 gathered in one falling hand, and her figure had the graceful pose 
 of inclination to the last speaker ; and the long, wavy, silken straw of 
 her hair, fallen forward, veiled her rounded, shoulder and the white 
 arm at her side. 
 
 From lip to lip passed whispered praise. 
 
 " Entrancing ! " " Raviseante ! " Perfectly unique ! " 
 
 " A lovely vision of mythology " General Terreceine, an adept 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 315 
 
 in feminine charms, exclaimed to his friend standing in the win- 
 dow. 
 
 '■'■Quelle merveille/^- Quelles tresses!" To which the other 
 quickly responded, — 
 
 " Man Dieu ! c'est une ange ! c'est une enchantemeiit P^ 
 
 Chancellor Mowndes' egress from the library caused a break in 
 the conversation, and the glances of several inquisitively followed. 
 Dentelle was engaged in deep discussion of the turf and the 
 chase, with a young Missourian of the same sporting tastes as 
 himself. The latter, glancing through the folding doors into the 
 parlors, said excitedly, — 
 
 "Juno! Venus! Calypro ! and all the rest! Dentelle, look 
 at that ! Did she drop down from Olympus, or the third heavens ? " 
 
 " Why, I suppose she must be the belle of St. Louis. I have 
 heard high praise of your Western beauties. I am prepared to find 
 our Charleston belles eclipsed." 
 
 "Highly complimentary, my friend ! Under many obligations! 
 but I swear, Dentelle, that goddess is not a native of this city. I 
 know every lady here that is worth knowing, and they're all under 
 a cloud, now. By the gods ! I must ask an introduction this night, 
 and sue for favor." 
 
 " New opinions differ on woman's charms," said Dentelle. " I 
 might adjudge the silver cup to your Western reigning belle. Is 
 she here to-night?" 
 
 Bloodling, the young sportsman, sat erect, throwing a rapid look 
 over the gay throng of the two parlors. 
 
 " Do not see her," he said. " She is petite^ however ; is prob- 
 ably overshadowed by the majesty of those in front. Nwiporte I 
 I am lost in the transcendent charms of this stranger. Gods 1 what 
 tresses ! It's a wheat harvest woven of the sun's rays. Let us 
 draw near the mystic circle." 
 
 " Let us follow the chancellor," suggested Dentelle. 
 
 "Precisely! I'd bolt the dem'dest, finest steeplechase in the 
 world, for a smile from such lips." He rose ; his tall, slender 
 form was a match for the Georgian's. "Let us go," he urged, "or 
 those pale yellow tresses will turn to Psyche's butterfly wings, and 
 bear her heavenward! I adore horses, but woman, more." 
 
3l6 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 The chancellor had already begun his narrative of the burning 
 of Northern mails at Charleston. As they drew near he was say- 
 ino" — ^ 
 
 " I was an actor in the scene. We had intimation that the 
 mail of that day would bring toCharleston an unusual quantity of 
 incendiary documents. You know, ladies and gentlemen, aboli- 
 tionists take it upon themselves to send to leading Southern men 
 such speeches, proceedings and arguments against slavery as they 
 falsely suppose will appeal to our religious natures." 
 
 " And soften our inflexible hearts," added General Terreceine. 
 
 " There are no arguments higher than the Bible," said Miss 
 Nina Call, a young lady of the severe Minerva type. 
 
 " Very true," bowed the chancellor. " It was that issue that 
 called together the clergyman of our city in a body on the occa- 
 sion, and also to show these meddling Northerners that our State 
 Rights should remain intact. But, as I was saying, the reverend 
 clergy came forward voluntarily, in a body, to assist in searching 
 and rifling the mails of its dangerous elements ; they tore open 
 letters and papers, refolded and sealed business and commercial 
 communications for their lawful destination. A// were as one man ; 
 brokers, bankers, consignees and commissioners, received their 
 mutilated correspondence, as sacred relics of a declaration of our 
 sovereign will." 
 
 Here arose an enthusiastic clapping of soft gloved hands, and a 
 confusion of exultant cheers. 
 
 "Do inform us, my dear chancellor," asked Mrs. Archibald, 
 "what part the ladies took upon themselves." 
 
 "True! what did their faithful patriotism proffer?" joined 
 Madame Lambelle, at the same moment tossing back the wavy 
 mass from her snowy neck and arm. 
 
 "My fair lady," answered the speaker, "their sacrifices far 
 exceeded ours. They voluntarily offered the exposure of the most 
 delicate trersures of their hearts ; their precious friendships, the 
 delicious language of tender sentiment, the ardent vows of absent 
 loves, every blossom of woman's purest confidences. They gave 
 all to the public gaze, for the public good." 
 
 " Bravo ! bravo ! bravo ! " tinkled forth voices sensibly affected 
 by such lofty martyrdom ; a few hands nervously clapped, and 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 317 
 
 many elegant bits of embroidered linen and lace were carried to 
 tearful and downcast eyes. 
 
 After a short and respectful silence he continued, — 
 
 "When the search was concluded, there was a large pile of 
 obnoxious matter lying on the floor of the post-office. These 
 were gathered up and carried to the street. Every avenue lead- 
 ing to the spot was crowded by interested spectators of the South- 
 ern Holocaust ; the fury of our people knew no bounds ; they w^ere 
 frantic. 
 
 " They alternately cheered and cursed. — they bellowed forth 
 threats of vengeance against Northern fanatics. The windows 
 and roofs of surrounding buildings swarmed with applauding 
 observers." 
 
 '•' It must have been charming," exclaimed Miss Call with 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 Chancellor Mowndes bowed and proceeded, — 
 
 *' A committee of clergymen and planters advanced with lighted 
 torches. And w^hen the lapping flames arose over the insurrection- 
 ary missives, consuming them to blackened ashes, from street, 
 from pavement, from roof, from verandah, arose a prolonged cheer 
 and a yell which proclaimed to the North, ' TJius far^ ajid no farther^ 
 Here let insolence be stayed. " 
 
 Tumultuous approbation, quite overstepping the conventional 
 politeness of an evening party, prevailed 
 
 General Terreceine, the last to forget his impromptu blaridness, 
 rose fiercely, and with fervid gestures asserted his belief that the 
 burning of that Charleston mail had been conclusive, that the 
 smoldering flames of that cursed heap of fanaticism had broken 
 out in a running fire from post-ofiice to post-office, throughout 
 our section. That step, united with the Southern threats which 
 had already been promulgated against the abolitionists, would 
 deter them from further interference in Southern affairs. 
 
 His face grew livid, his enunciation rapid. Pointing south- 
 ward, he exclaimed, — 
 
 " New Orleans is wide awake ! The ' True American ' assures 
 the Bostonians, 'if those who have embarked in the nefarious 
 scheme of abolishing slavery at the South show themselves in 
 Louisiana, their backs will be spared lashes, but they shall expi- 
 
3l8 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 ate their crime by being burned at the stake ! ' " His figure 
 moved ominously to the east, and vehemently shook as he 
 exclaimed, — 
 
 "The dastardly poltroons dare not set foot on Southern soil !" 
 Every lip murmured assent. 
 
 Madame Archibald related her experience in Mississipi after 
 the burning of the mail in Charleston. 
 
 " The parish came together in a church. After a most touch- 
 ing and most beautiful prayer by the pastor, the people entered 
 into excited deliberation ; and finally passed this resolution. 
 
 '• ' That any individual who dares to circulate any of the incendiary 
 tracts and newspapers, now in the course of transmission to this 
 country, is justly worthy in the sight of God and man, of imme- 
 diate DEATH.' " 
 
 " Madame Archibald's relation fully substantiated the sagacity 
 of our honored host," observed Major Dentelle. " I also have the 
 pleasure of showing that Georgia responds to that sentiment. 
 The tocsin from Augusta is heard in these words. 'Theory of 
 the whole South should be death, instant death! to the aboli- 
 tionist, wdierever he is caught.' " 
 
 " Let me speak for my native State," added Captain Bloodling, 
 his eyes fastened upon Madame Lambelle. " Missouri is on the 
 ' double quick ' with other States. The ' Argus ' has it that ' aboli- 
 tion editors in Slave States dare not avow their opinions. It would 
 be instant death to them.' " 
 
 Colonel Ashland thought with Henry A. Wise of Virginia, that 
 the surest prescription for abolitionists, was " Dupont's best (gun- 
 powder) and cold steel.'"' 
 
 "The same righteous determination pervades every Southern 
 State, I believe," remarked the silver-voiced Madame Lambelle, the 
 apple-blossom color deepening, and the clear blue of her eyes light- 
 ing up with a singular fire. " I saw a communication from the 
 Rev. J. S. Witherspone, an Alabamaian, to the ' Emancipator ' in 
 New York, in which he says, * If their emissaries cross the Potomac 
 he can promise that their fate will be no less than Haman's." 
 
 " You are right, my dear lady," replied General Terreceine. 
 *' This determination is unanimous;" but, in a manner visibly 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 319 
 
 disturbed, he asked, " how her attention was called to the ' Emanci- 
 pator ? ' " 
 
 With a bright smile and another sparkle of the singular light in 
 her blue eyes, she replied with a most courteous inclination of her 
 head, — 
 
 " By a Southern gentleman, sir, staying at the same hotel." 
 Turning carelessly to Rev. Mr. Warham, she remarked, '' The North- 
 ern people know very little of slavery ; its real necessities or its 
 demands." 
 
 His admiring gaze was turned upon the speaker by his side. 
 
 " Very true, Madame Lambelle ; neither do they understand that 
 they are meddling with red-hot coals, when they meddle with it 
 and us." 
 
 "Nor will not, until their fingers are burned to blackened crisp," 
 ejaculated the host in his usual defiant style. 
 
 " A.nd yet, sir," resumed the lady, "I wish to exhonorate my own 
 State, New York, from deserved accusation. Shall I take the lib- 
 erty of doing so t " 
 
 '• Most assuredh^" was granted on all sides. 
 
 "Thank you. Not long since, those holding Anti-Slavery princi- 
 ples were to meet at Utica for the avowed purpose of forming a 
 State organization. They were, however, driven from the Court 
 House by a body of prominent and respectable citizens, who inten- 
 tionally occupied that building beforehand. These people arrived 
 to the number of six or eight hundred. They entered one of the 
 chambers ; there, they were met by a large concourse of citizens, 
 who accused them of plotting the dissolution of the American Union. 
 The abolitionists were driven from the church with denunciations 
 and threats. The Honorable Samuel Beardsley, member of Con- 
 gress, declared, 'the disgrace of having an Abolition Convention 
 held in the city is a deeper one than that of twenty mobs, and that 
 it would be better to have Utica razed to its foundation, or to have 
 it destroyed, like Sodom and Gomorrah, than to have the conven- 
 tion meet there.' " 
 
 " All honor to New York ! " said the sportsman Bloodling ; " and 
 thrice honored be the Honorable Samuel Beardsley," from several 
 others. 
 
 While she was speaking, a bevy of guests from the bright gar- 
 
320 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 dens drew around the doors and windows of the parlor, — five 
 gentlemen and two ladies. One of the two ladies, about whom the 
 others seemed to revolve, had features coldly Grecian, with the 
 complexion of a brunette. Her eyes and hair were of shadowy 
 blackness. On the left side, among her braids, glowed a bright 
 scarlet rose, trailing its leaves and red buds down her Spanish 
 shoulders to her bodice of cherry satin. Her trailing skirt of India 
 muslin was banded and fluted with the same bright color. 
 
 She might have had a more imposing line of descent than others 
 present, — running back to the Indian hills. Her ancestors might 
 have gone up before the golden cherubim of " Solomon's Temple," 
 and before the " molten sea," standing upon twelve oxen, the brim 
 wrought with "flowers of lilies." She might have inherited that 
 shadowy hair and eyes from the Moorish and sun-ripened blood of 
 the hidalgos of old Spain. A few pages of Time, turned backward, 
 might have allied the dark, fascinating hue that crept over brow, 
 neck, shoulder and arm, to that beautiful paradox of American 
 women, who, denied all lineage, denied a country or a name, never 
 cease to captivate. A careful paradigm of her ancestry might have 
 revealed this startling fact. 
 
 Leaving this doubtful point to the exactness of American Her- 
 aldry, we must be content to know that the person in question was 
 none other than the belle of St. Louis, — the flattered, adored and 
 caressed Miss Honoria Duel. 
 
 A young Louisianian, Lieutenant Azucar, son of a cane-planter 
 led the quintette. He was upon her right side bearing her fan. 
 Colonel Selman, an obese, gray-headed Mobilian, commanding the 
 "Cherokee Artillery," moved up on her left, smiling, bowing and 
 toying with Miss Honoria's gold-enameled vinaigrette. Following 
 en traine, was Cadet Call, a smooth-faced, lithe Missourian, home on 
 a furlough from military studies. He was elevated to the office of 
 glove-holder, for he bore with knightly care Miss Duel's white kid 
 amulet glove. Admiral Dane of the Navy, a corpulent, florid-faced 
 widower of sixty, was also en traine as a gallant page, and blowing 
 like a stranded porpoise, convoyed the belle's bouquet as stiffly 
 upright as the mast of the "Warrior," his own flagship. 
 
 Thus they caricoled to the window, coquetting and jesting. 
 Hearingf but one musical voice, and observing the deep interest 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 32 I 
 
 Upon the faces within, they paused and became listeners likewise. 
 
 At the conclusion of Mrs. Lambelle's eulogism, la belle Duel 
 clapped her hands and cried, — 
 
 " Vive New York ! Vive New York ! " 
 
 This was a signal for her suite; they failed not to obey, and the 
 demonstration became general. La belle set her cherry-slippered 
 foot upon the low sill, declaring, — 
 
 " Aha ! I see ! just as I supposed. Madame Lambelle charms 
 all hearts. She holds tout le motide entranced by the magic of her 
 azure eyes." 
 
 A soft flush suffused Madame Lambelle's cheeks, as she re- 
 plied, — 
 
 '"'■ Mifa un eofnpliinento al quale non so eke rispondere ;''^ and with 
 a grace which rivited all eyes, she waved her hand to those about 
 her, saying, — 
 
 '■'•No le c^edianio,''^ at the same time pleasantly bowing herself out. 
 
 Eev. Fred conducted her into the fragrant air, upon the broad, 
 carpeted floor of the charming piazza. 
 
 " Faccia7iio un giro e?i el giardino,^' suggested Madame Lambelle. 
 
 Rev. Fred had once known Italian, had once spoken it in Rome 
 and other Italian cities ; so after some little hesitation, in search- 
 ing memory, he replied, — 
 
 " Faro no chevorra .^" in the tone of homage to a divinity. 
 
 They passed out beneath the twining " drap d'or " climber, under 
 the deep blue sky and unclouded moon, on to the fountain. They 
 discussed objects and places of interest in the Old World, which 
 were perfectly familiar to both, and forgot the unpleasant American 
 subject — Slavery. Within the brilliant ^^^^/i- it remained a fruit- 
 ful subject of conversation. 
 
 " Miss Duel, my dear, we have had a delightful narration of the 
 burning of the mail at Charleston. Chancellor Mowndes has con- 
 ferred a great favor in relating the interesting particulars. Miss 
 Honoria, you should have been present. You have lost a great 
 pleasure," said Madame Terreceine. 
 
 " I beg pardon, madame," interfered the chancellor in a com- 
 plimentary manner ; " but Miss Duel herself dispenses higher 
 pleasure than the prosy relation of a stern political duty could pos- 
 sibly confer." 
 
322 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " I am a daughter of the South, chancellor, and am, therefore, 
 deeply concerned in her welfare. I have a great curiosity to know 
 something of the contents of those letters. Were any of them 
 saved, sir , or any of the pamphlets .-* " 
 
 " Miss Honoria would be pleased to hear them read," com- 
 manded Admiral Dane, still holding mast-upright that lady's 
 bouquet. 
 
 " I shall be most honored to comply with Miss Duel's desire. 
 There are two or three still in my possession." He bade his ser- 
 vant bring a certain package of papers. It was found, that through 
 mistake, he had brought but one from the mail-burning, and one 
 other, received since. The latter, he opened with the remark, that 
 " this specimen alone, would show the audacity and stubbornness 
 of Northern spirit ; that as it was poetry, he considered it the very 
 topmost shoot of their general sentiment." 
 
 " The name of the poet ?" asked Cadet Call. 
 
 " Whittier ; a more insidious incendiary than Garrison himself. 
 Garrison professes to deal with facts, which he hurls with artillery 
 practice among the horrified masses, while Whittier attempts to 
 rouse those intellects which are moved only to the cadences of 
 
 song." 
 
 The letter was passed to Colonel Selman of the " Cherokee Ar- 
 tillery," with the request to read. The colonel rose, and after 
 glancing over its contents, complied. The rich bass of his sono- 
 rous voice rang out the flinty words against the iron wills of his 
 listeners. The latent spark flashed along every line. His modula- 
 tion was perfect. The daring, defiant language found a living beauty 
 in its magical delivery. The poet himself could not have desired 
 a more impressive rendering of the majestic grandeur of his 
 
 "STANZAS FOR THE TIMES." 
 
 " Is this the land our father's loved ? 
 
 The freedom which they toiled to win ? 
 Is this the soil whereon they moved ? 
 
 Are these the graves they slumbered in ? 
 Are we the sons, by whom are borne 
 The mantles which the dead have worn ? 
 
 And shall we crouch above these graves, 
 With craven soul and fettered lip ? 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 323 
 
 Yoke in, with marked and branded slaves, 
 
 And tremble at the driver's whip ? 
 Bend to the earth our pliant knees ; 
 And speak, but as our masters please ? 
 
 Shall tongues be mute when deeds are wrought, 
 Which well might shame extremest hell ? 
 
 Shall freeman lock the indignant thought ? 
 Shall pity cease to swell ? 
 
 Shall honor bleed — shall truth succumb ? 
 
 Shall /£•« a.nd press and sou^ be dumb ? 
 
 No ! by each spot of haunted ground, 
 
 Where Freedom weeps her children's fall. 
 
 By Plymouth's rock and Bunker's mound, 
 
 By Griswold's stained and shattered wall, 
 
 By Warren's ghost, by Langdon's shade. 
 
 By all the memories of the dead ! 
 
 By all above, around, below. 
 Be one indignant answer ; NO ! " 
 
 He read the last two lines ending with its triumphant " No ! '* 
 in deep, guttural tones, like the low moanings of distant thunder. 
 During the reading, silence like a pall fell over the assembly. 
 
 "There's a challenge to accept," suggested Dentelle. "That 
 last ' No ' has the cannon's boom." 
 
 "Whittier is a Quaker," said another; "a man of peace." 
 
 General Terreceine's face grew dark and austere. 
 
 " Quaker or no Quaker," he said, " whoever flings that gauntlet 
 in our faces needs wear the epaulets of war." 
 
 " Such Northern men are few," complacently observed Colonel 
 Ashland. The Free States, as a whole, are most pliant and sub- 
 servient to our demands. You are aware that the resolutions of 
 the South, demanding that the Non-slave-holding States shall enact 
 penal laws for the suppression of Abolition Societies, and making 
 it also a penal offense to print, publish, or distribute anti-slavery 
 newspapers, pamphlets or tracts, has been officially communicated 
 to the governors of those States. Their requirements have thus 
 been brought before the notice of their several legislatures with 
 most gratifying effect." 
 
 "True," replied Colonel Selman, the Mobilian, "Governor Marcy 
 of New York, and the Legislature, have declared themselves ready 
 
•224 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 to make almost any concessions to Southern allies and friends." 
 
 " But Massachusetts ! — curse her ! — fosters just such bandeleros 
 as this Whittier. And her cursed Plymouth Rock is already half 
 chipped awav, making sling-stones for giants ! " growled the tall 
 Major Blood'ling of the " Missouri Light Guards." 
 
 The chancellor, who sat thoughtfully turning over the papers in 
 his hand, looked up at the young major with a smile, saying, — 
 
 " With true respect for your Southern enthusiasm, let me assure 
 you that Massachusetts, with all her blemishes, is still an ally to 
 the South. I was in Boston at the time when Edward Everett, the 
 Governor of Massachusetts, made his response to the official de- 
 mands of the Southern States, to which my friend. Colonel Ash- 
 land, just alluded. Governor Everett said, in his message, 'What- 
 ever, by direct and necessary operation, is calculated to excite an 
 insurrection among the slaves, has been held by highly respectable 
 legal authority an offense against the peace of the Commonwealth, 
 which may be prosecuted as a misdemeanor at common law,' and 
 also ' that the patriotism of all classes must be invoked, to abstain 
 from a discussion which, if not abandoned, there is just reason to 
 fear will prove the rock on which the Union will split.' This part 
 of the message was referred to a committee of five, of which George 
 Lunt, a senator from Newburyport, was chairman. The anti-slavery 
 society was roused to its own detence and to the prevention of any 
 action against " Freedom of speech and the press. " 
 
 Some of those men obtained a hearing before the committee. I 
 was present, a curious and unmolested listener. Samuel J. May 
 spoke first, and was followed by Ellis Gray Loring. He dc?iied the 
 right of the legislature to enact penal laws, and claimed the moral 
 right to labor for the extermination of slavery or any other crime. 
 Garrison followed, in an onslaught on the Union." 
 
 "This is exceedingly interesting," remarked Miss Duel; "dear 
 me ! You did see Garrison ! that blood-thirsty instigator of insur- 
 rections? " 
 
 " Very interesting," repeated all the ladies. Do describe Garri- 
 son to us, if you please. Do ! do ! " said all. 
 
 " Ugh ! I shiver at the thought of him," said Miss Duel. " He 
 must be a monster." 
 
WHITE MAY, ANDl BLACK JUNE. 325 
 
 "Will Miss Duel first describe the great abolition leader, from 
 her imagination? " laughingly requested Lieuteuant Azucar. 
 
 " We are eager listeners," joined several voices. 
 
 "Miss Duel said coquettishly, "You will see a gnome ! an ogre ! 
 which I scarcely dare, myself, portray. My ideas are, that. Garrison 
 is dwarfish in stature, with wiry, unkempt hair, falling over a low, 
 malignant brow ; that his features are half hidden by a long fanati- 
 cal beard ; that his wild eyes glare, without one Christian expres- 
 sion j and that his hands and feet, ungainly in size and shape, 
 complete a picture of ugliness, from the sight of which every right- 
 minded person must turn away with horror and disgust." 
 
 General merriment succeeded, when Chancellor Mowndes came 
 to her aid. 
 
 " Miss Duel, if Garrison's principles and acts were embodied, 
 you have given us a fine drawing, but I am compelled to acknowl- 
 edge, that in person and manners, he is prepossessing ; has a fine 
 head and features, and an agreeable, impressive voice. Were he 
 in Congress, he would be eclipsed by few." 
 
 "Perhaps your audience would not be too much fatigued to listen 
 to some of his oratory," suggested Colonel Ashland. " It will 
 show that our determined threats of revenge and death to those of 
 his ilk who may venture upon our soil, with our rewards for his own 
 head, have had a satisfactory result." 
 
 " Let us hear, chancellor. Let us hear," said the host. 
 
 "Aye ! let us hear," reiterated Commodore Dave. 
 
 Chancellor Mowndes resumed ; " Mr. Garrison declared that the 
 people of New England have two alternatives ; either to consent to 
 be gagged by ' Southern task-masters,' or to labor fearlessly on, till 
 slavery should be blotted from the land. But here comes the point 
 referred to by my friend, the colonel ; I give it, in Garrison's own 
 words." 
 
 "We loudly boast of our free country, and of the Union of these 
 States ; yet I have no country / As a New-Englander and an Aboli- 
 tionist, I am excluded by a bloody proscription, from one-half of 
 the national territory, and so is every man who is known to regard 
 slavery with abhorrence. W^here is our Union ? and of what value 
 is it to me, or to any one who believes that liberty is the inalienable 
 right of every man, independent of the color of his skin, or the 
 
326 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 texture of his hair ? JFe cannot enjo}^ the privileges of the Union. 
 T/ie right of free aiid safe locomotion^ from one part of the land to the 
 other ^ is de?iied to us J except on peril of our lives ! They who preach 
 that slave-holding is sin, and that immediate emancipation is the 
 duty of every master, might as safely leap into a den of lions, or into 
 2i fery furjiace, as to go into the Southern States ! " 
 
 "Let us rejoice," said Miss Hanoria. "Garrison shall never set 
 his foot upon citr soil." 
 
 " We have accom.plished something," said Dentelle, " when we 
 have drawn a dead line, which these ruffians dare not pass." 
 
 " What was the termination of the hearing, chancellor," asked 
 the host. " Were the committee convinced by the abolitionists ? " 
 
 " Far from that, sir. George Lunt, the chairman, was * true 
 blue.' He became exasperated at the assertions of one Goodel, 
 and said abruptly, * Stop, sir ! Sit down, sir ! The committee will 
 hear none of this ! ' He was proof against further pleading ; said 
 the committee had heard enough. Thus ingloriously was the ex- 
 cited audience dispersed." 
 
 "But one echo of Whittier's "no!" has been heard from all the 
 Northern governors to whom our official orders of repression have 
 been sent," said Colonel Ashland. 
 
 "Pray, which one is that? " asked an excited feminine voice. 
 
 " Governor Ritner of Pennsylvania. He commented with 
 Roman firmness and severity on 'the base bowing of the knee to 
 the dark spirit of Slavery.' He counseled the State ' never to yield 
 up the right of Xhefree discussion of any evil which may arise in the 
 land, or any part of it.' 
 
 "Thaddeus Stephens w^as chairman of the committee to which 
 our Southern resolutions were referred : of course his report denied 
 our right to claim legislation against free discussion, and it affirmed 
 * if the claim could be legitimate, the legislature and the citizen 
 would be reduced to a vassalage but little less degrading than that 
 of the slaves, whose condition they assert the right to discuss.' " 
 
 '•' The only remedy for Ritner and Stephens is ' Dupont's best,' " 
 said Cadet Call ; ''but we shall bring these rebels to terms." 
 
 " It is only a matter of time," replied Colonel Ashland, confi- 
 dently. The chancellor had returned to the papers in his hand. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 327 
 
 " I have it," he said quietly, while a curious smile played over 
 his face. 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen, here is a sworn relic of the late Charles- 
 ton Holocaust. Captain Bloodling, shall we have the honor of 
 listening to you, sir ? " at the same time extending to him the 
 letter. 
 
 The amiable hostess begged him to summon her beautiful 
 " Ceres." 
 
 " Madame Lambelle is so thoroughly interested in our political 
 situation she will be most eager to hear." 
 
 A servant was dispatched to the garden ; she soon entered, 
 still leaning on the arm of her reverend friend. A general wel- 
 coming smile greeted her. 
 
 Bloodling nerved himself to the task of a finished elocution, that 
 he might " do the heroic " as acceptably as his predecessor the 
 colonel ; but, as he scanned the unfolded letter silently, a visible 
 change swept his proud face. Its mail clad look softened into 
 pity first, and then contempt. He began to read. 
 
 '■'■Happy Home, July, 183 — 
 
 My Beloved Friend, — I cannot longer delay some expression of the un- 
 fathomable sentiment of gratitude which daily pervades my life towards you, 
 the one to whom I owe all I have, and all I am. Nothing but the fear of en- 
 dangering your safety has set the oblivious seal of silence on all this interven- 
 ing time. 1 can never, for one moment, fail to bless you for your efforts in 
 giving me that freedom which has grown so unspeakably precious with the 
 yearly appreciation of its blessings. Ah ! what would have been my condition 
 now in Charleston, or sold perhaps, for other shambles, without your assistance 
 in escaping from that terrible bondage- Perhaps it will be sufficient for you to 
 know that I am well, happy, and being educated. This letter will bear witness, 
 for my own hand pens it. 
 
 *' Enclosed, you will find a small return for your inestimable and dangerous 
 service to me. Accept it, with my daily fervent prayers for your continued life 
 and happiness. Evening Star." 
 
 " That is a cunningly devised letter," remarked Mrs. Archibald. 
 
 " And gives no clue to the fugitive," observed the Rev. Fred. 
 
 " Its chirography is fine ; Major Bloodling, will you do me the 
 pleasure to pass it to the ladies, for inspeccion t " said the chan- 
 cellor. 
 
 Miss Duel extended her gloved hand for it, ran her dark eyes 
 over it, and pronounced it, — 
 
328 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "Beautifully written, clear and delicate as copper-plate." 
 
 Madame Lambelle declared it written in a woman's hand. 
 
 Rev. Fred agreed with her opinion. 
 
 " To whom was it addressed } " inquired the host. 
 
 "To Deiderich Weintze, a German, keeping a corner shop in the 
 city." 
 
 "What was the small return, mentioned ? " 
 
 " A bank check for a thousand dollars." 
 
 " Of course you gave the Teuton thief his w^ell-earned remunera- 
 tion?" questioned the general, ironically. 
 
 " Not precisely in money, general. We handed the thousand 
 dollars over to the * Society for the adva?icetnent of C/iristia?iity in 
 South Carolina' " 
 
 "To have put the check in Weintze's hand, would have been 
 paying a premiuni for a crime against the laws of the State, would 
 it not ? " inquired Madame Lambelle, turning her startled blue 
 eyes full upon the face of her admiring companion. 
 
 " May I ask what are the laws of Carolina concerning it ? tor 
 surelv, there must be some penalty attached to the loss of slaves in 
 this manner, as well as for the loss of any other valuable property, 
 I should suppose." 
 
 " Indeed, my dear lady, you are right," he replied. " By an act 
 of 1754, all and every person who shall aid a slave in running 
 away or departing from his master's or employer's service, are de- 
 clared to be guilty of felony, and shall suffer death as felons, with- 
 out the benefit of clergy. The inveigling and carrying away slaves, 
 was a great and growing evil at that time." 
 
 " Deiderich Weintze was punishable under that act," remarked 
 Colonel Ashland. 
 
 " But you recollect," politely interfered the chancellor, "that by 
 an act of 182 1 'whoever shall harbor, conceal or entertain any run- 
 away or fugitive slave, shall, be fined or imprisoned at the discre- 
 tion of the court ; not exceeding one thousand dollars fine, nor one 
 years imprisonment ; ' and as justices and freeholders who try 
 these offenders, can exercise such discretion as they think fit. 
 Deiderich Weintze was sentenced to the whipping-post, to one thou- 
 sand dollars fine of his own property and imprisonment. We made 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 329 
 
 an example of him, I assure you, gentlemen. I was in Charleston 
 at the time." 
 
 " It was quite necessary," coolly continued the chancellor. 
 
 " He was seized at his store, carried to the public whipping-post 
 amid an angry crowd, stripped as to his back and shoulders, and 
 bound to it. We had previously sent for the muscular negro- 
 whipper of the work-house. The air was rife with the same signals 
 of approbation as at the burning of the mail. Cries of ' Kill the 
 Dutchman ! ' drownded every other sound." 
 
 " How many lashes were considered sufficient remuneration," 
 bitterly asked General Terreceine. 
 
 " The lashes were not counted, they were discretionary ; but when 
 he fainted he was put in a cart and sent to the work-house, where 
 he has since been indulged with the pleasant recreation of the 
 tread-mill." 
 
 " Had he to pay his fine ? " 
 
 " His wife sold out his small store, and met the fine, I believe." 
 
 "You came out gloriously!" exclaimed Colonel Selman of the 
 " Rifles." 
 
 " Gloriously ! gloriously ! " echoed other voices. Major Blood- 
 ling complimented Charleston, as the banner city of the South. 
 
 Miss Duel, reclining among the sofa cushions and zephyrs 
 wafted from her fan, in the hands of the languishing Lieutenant 
 Azucar, indolently declared, — 
 
 " All that is wanting now, is to search out and drag back the 
 runaway to lashes and double tasks." 
 
 Before the sentence was wafted from her lips by the lieutenant's 
 fan-formed zephyrs, sudden ejaculations and a startled clamor 
 stirred the assembly. Gentlemen sprang to their feet, ladies 
 clasjDcd their hands looking pitifully, yet remained fixed in their 
 seats, as if stunned. 
 
 The lovely Madam Lambelle lay motionless on the carpet, at 
 the feet of her Carolina friend. The hostess first rushed to her 
 side with tenderest epithets of loving endearment. Rev. Fred 
 knelt reverently, and raised a cold hand between his own. 
 
 While he strove in vain to find the pulses which had so mysteri- 
 ously fled, the little Italian maid Cossetina, who had been quickly 
 
330 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 informed by the servants, came wildly in and threw herself down by 
 her beloved mistress. She called to her, — 
 
 ^^ Cara Zaffiri ! Zaffiri ! Begli occhi ! che avesti ! She drew back 
 the ravishing tresses from her temples, caressed them, moaning 
 over and over, " Ca7'a Zaffiri ! a chio?iii sciolte ! " 
 
 Fred murmured low as if to himself, — 
 
 ''Bella a verdere ! Bella!'' 
 
 Cossetina was frantic with grief. She clasped her hands, raised 
 her eyes to the ceiling, passionately exclaiming, — 
 
 '' Bella Zaffiri I sul pavi7nente ; siil pavi?7ie}ite ! Stamala!'" Ris- 
 ing hastily from the carpet, she extended both her hands to General 
 Terreceine. and pleadingly cried, '■'■ II letto I II letto P^ Then the 
 English word came to her memory, "Bed! Bed! Aiutatemi far 
 do/'' 
 
 The general advanced and lifted the still figure in liis strong 
 arms. ]\Iadame Archibald gathered the trailing veil of flossy hair, 
 laying it upon her breast, then sadly followed the strange cortege up 
 the stair-case, to the quiet of a distant chamber. 
 
 There had been music and feasting during: the eveninGf, which 
 had been partaken with convivial zest by those well trained in the 
 art of enjoyment. The dancing-hall, a handsome appurtenance to 
 the Terreceine mansion, had been filled with the gay, changing 
 throng. Its frescos, flowers, brilliant lights and entrancing strains, 
 had in time drawn all within its eddying circles of pleasure, and 
 these had turned again to the cool gardens and stately salons for 
 the agreeable interchange of cultured thought. Authors and their 
 works, artists and their productions were discussed as familiarly as 
 those only can do whose time and means are unlimited. Pleasant 
 memories and incidents of travel were compared; many a group 
 sat again for a passing hour beneath the grandeur of the Alps, — 
 in the shadow of ancient cathedrals, or in fancy trod again the im- 
 perial palaces of royalty. 
 
 It was the custom at every concourse, public or private, at the 
 evening party, the crowded ball, at hilarious dinners, and even at 
 the fashionable call, throughout the South, to discuss one unflag- 
 ging topic of discourse. This was slavery, its enemies and sup- 
 porters. On this festive occasion, when strangers from other 
 Southern States were present, this home subject was presented with 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 33 1 
 
 deeper interest ; and because the sentiment of the group of conver- 
 sationists is relevant to our purpose, their ideas have been given to 
 the reader, to the exclusion of other subjects. 
 
 But for the occurrence of this last touching event, Madame 
 Lambelle's calamity, the evening's attractions would have held 
 fascinations for hours longer. But the strange malady which had 
 stricken down the beautiful stranger, cast a gloom over the spirits 
 of every one present. 
 
 Thought and conversation changed to her personal beauty, her 
 high-bred ease of manner, her sprightliness of humor, the taste and 
 elegance of her attire, the number and brilliancy of her diamonds, 
 and above all, to the interest displayed in whatever pertained to 
 the South. 
 
 Disquiet marked the usually calm faces of the servants as they 
 waited for some order, whereby they might do loving service for 
 the " dear lady," in return for the soft words and condescending 
 smiles with which she greeted them. 
 
 Fred Warham sat silently apart, as if he had seen a divine trans- 
 figuration. 
 
 After a half-hour's suspense, a gray-haired physician, holding the 
 respect and confidence of the circle, entered the salons from the 
 lady's chamber. A volley of tender inquiries assailed him, to which 
 he gave the pleasant information, that he apprehended no immedi- 
 diate danger ; his patient had opened her " bluest of blue eyes, as 
 fresh as spring violets." She would fully recover from the effects 
 of the swoon, in two or three days, " to the joy of us all," he added, 
 with a bow and-benignant smile signifying the dismissal of anxiety. 
 He declared there was never such another " Rome in America " as 
 that chamber. " Why," said he, " the little Cossetina fills the room 
 with chattering Italian. The air is heavy with the soft language, as 
 her churches are of incense ; yet with all her censor-swing of her 
 native tongue, the only distinguishable aroma is ' Zaffiri ! Zaffiri ! 
 Zaffiri caressed, Zaffiri moaned, Zaffiri wept, and Zaffiri adored.' " 
 
 A unversal smile gladdened the dull salons. 
 
 "Zaffiri is a singular name," remarked one. 
 
 " Zaffiri is Italian for sapphires. It must signify her blue eyes," 
 replied Fred Warham. " She is American born, however j a na- 
 tive New-Yorker, of one of those opulent and travelled families, 
 
332 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 which form so pleasant a counterpart to our chivalry and blooded 
 descent." 
 
 " Ah, yes," said Miss Duel ; " her husband brought the proper 
 letters of introduction from New York. You know we do not 
 receive into our social regards any strangers of doubtful prece- 
 dent." 
 
 " Her husband dotes upon her," said the hostess, " and would 
 not trust her health to the climatic changes of Texas, at present. 
 He is equally interested with us Southerners, in that country, but 
 will not take Zaffiri there until winter." 
 
 "A splendid fellow he is, too," said the general. " Nobility is 
 stamped upon his face. I made his acquaintance on his way out 
 here." 
 
 Carriages came one after another to the piazza, and rolled 
 away, leaving love's tender regrets and regards for the invalid. 
 
 General Terreceine invited a few of the choice spirits of St. 
 Louis to tarry in the library for a short conference with the Caro- 
 lina friends. 
 
 Between the grand dining salo?i and library, white-gloved slaves 
 glided about, bearing those refreshments which the company de- 
 manded. From the costly buffet, glittering with the cut glass para- 
 phernalia of fashionable wine-bibbers, were brought on trays of 
 solid silver, decanters filled with the blood-red, the amber, and the 
 purple juices of rare vintages. 
 
 The sliding doors of the salons were closed around the conclave, 
 and the polished mail of gallantry worn in the presence of ladies 
 was rapidly doffed. 
 
 Belles, horses, women and hounds were brought upon the tapis 
 together. Various degrees of eulogism, sarcasm or contempt, 
 were bestowed upon the mingled array, and they were banished 
 from inspection amid toasts, resolves, and responses drank in swift 
 succession. 
 
 Tongues grew voluble and reckless. Short patriotic speeches 
 were indulged in, flaming with vituperation and lurking revenge. 
 
 Cadet Call was of the opinion that Congress had the power, and 
 therefore should control the diabolical Northern agitation. The 
 Northern Whig vote of that body assimilated so generally with the 
 Southern Democrats, that they could easily carry any resolution. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 333 
 
 Northern States should be forced to make penal enactments for 
 their agitators. In the very /aces of these public disturbers, they 
 should enact the gibbet and the gallows. ^^ 
 
 Colonel Ashland advised to declare to the North, if the question 
 of slavery be further discussed in any shape, at any time, at any 
 place, the Slave States would secede from the Union ; they would 
 show the world that the old saying, — " The pen is mightier than 
 the sword," is reversed, and that the South would abide only by the 
 decision of the latter. 
 
 General Terreceine cried out hotly, — 
 
 " Drink, gentlemen, drink ! to the sentiment. We will muzzle 
 their foul, incendiary mouths ! We will make bonfires of their 
 moral convictions ! We will grind their logic to powder beneath the 
 upper and the nether millstones of our adamantine will. And the 
 Constitution ! Ah, we will hurl their printing presses to the bottom 
 of their rivers, a-la James G. Birney's, in the Ohio." 
 
 Judge Pitts, a Missourian, roused to heroic remembrances by 
 the name of "Birney," held up his glass. 
 
 " To Cincinnati, the friendly watch-tower midway along the 
 moat of our Northern border." 
 
 A long hip — hip — hurrah ! responded, and a drink all round. 
 
 Dentelle was complimentary. " I give you, my friends, ]\Iizzouri, 
 yet in her ' teens,' but the fair young mother of Texas, after the 
 mother, Texas herself, the eagle's nest, hatching forty-three IMassa- 
 chusetts-ess;" his brandied tongue slipping on the smooth termina- 
 tion. 
 
 Angry cries of '■^ No I No I No! By Heaven, no P^ accom- 
 panied by a heavy blow upon the table, and accidents among the 
 cut-glass, interrupted the toaster. 
 
 Dentelle, intent upon his idea, and perceiving the rock on which 
 he had split, reiterated, — 
 
 '• Gentle'em, Texas ! The house of the free and the land of the 
 brave. Beg pardons-es. Cut her up — through — Dainme I cut her 
 up I into eighty-six senator-r-r-ors from elsewhere, and p'serve bal- 
 anc-ce of power." 
 
 More accidents. 
 
 The tall, lithe figure of Lieutenant Bloodling for a few moments 
 overlooked the table and its surroundings. His right hand ran 
 
334 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 through his disordered flaxen hair, and then slowly drew forth to 
 the light of the chandelier a gleaming knife. He was still silent, 
 but busied himself in so turning the blade, that its white, reflected 
 light danced here and there on the walls and book-cases ; and so 
 that all could read the sanguinary words, death to abolition 
 etched darkly upon its surface. 
 
 Another " hip — hie — hip — hurrah ! " welcomed its ghastly 
 motto. 
 
 Bloodling flourished the blade, wildly repeating with furious 
 voice, — 
 
 " By Calhoun's soul, by Bowie's blade, 
 By Southern blood of bluest grade, 
 By all above, around below. 
 Be our indignant answer ; so ! " 
 
 accompanying the last syllable by a portentous plunge of the dan- 
 gerous steel downward. 
 
 "Our Southern Whittier," exclaimed a round of voices, the re- 
 ward to his poetical effort. 
 
 Weapons of various shapes and powers slid out of their sheaths, 
 and insanely brandished lightnings under the trembling prisms of 
 the chandelier. 
 
 Bloodling's new style of knife was passed about, and gave gen- 
 eral satisfaction. Its British manufacture, its excellent temper, its 
 studied proportions, its fine, razor-like edge, and especially, its 
 deep, threatning words "death to abolition," along its blade, 
 were each in turn subjects of comment and praise. 
 
 The gra3'-haired doctor stepped lightly in from the piazza, took 
 the weapon in his soft hands, read the inscription, and pronounced 
 it, " the greatest moral invention of the age." Returning it to 
 Bloodling, he said, — 
 
 " Make good use of it, my young friend. In the sacred words of 
 the Evangelist 'the fields are already white to the harvest' " 
 
 " Doctor, how is your lovely patient, Madame Lambelle .'* " A 
 general and subdued attention awaited his reply. 
 
 " I congratulate you, gentlemen, upon the success of your social 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 335 
 
 festivities ; but I came to say, with deep regret on my part, and I 
 am sure with sorrow on yours, that the lady has just experienced a 
 sHght spasm, whicli is unfavorable. I therefore suggest perfect, 
 unbroken quiet as a sovereign remedy. Her delicate nervous sys- 
 tem will not endure the least shock." 
 
 The decision to adjourn was immediate and unanimous. 
 
 Bloodling offered in a parting bumper, " the health of the lovely 
 Zaffiji." They drank it standing, in the sympathy of silence, each 
 man's hand upon his heart. 
 
 The last carriage rolled out under the ivy arch. General Terre- 
 ceine said to his Carolina guests, — 
 
 '' We are to have a high old day to-morrow. I had forgotten to 
 mention it. The officers are in pursuit of two fellows who are sus- 
 pected of tampering with our slaves, and running them off. They 
 have fled to Alton, and if they are caught, I invite you to witness 
 their trial. Damn them ! Good-night." 
 
 CHAPTER XVH. 
 
 " T TOW delightful is the morning," said Fanny to her mother, as 
 
 J~i she came down from her chamber. 
 
 " And you are as rosy as the morning," was the reply. " I don't 
 think there is a fresher looking girl in Alderbank." Passing to the 
 open window of the dining-room, Fanny threw her usual look of rap- 
 ture over the bright sky, the many clouds, the mountains, the white 
 serpentine wreath of fog, along the base of the wooded hills, mark- 
 ing the course of the river, and over all with what her childhood 
 was familiar. Her eyes were aglow with the happiness of the deli- 
 cious reverie. 
 
 The voice of her mother, as often before, roused her. 
 
 " Come, Fanny dear, there is work to be done ; the clock has a 
 story te tell as well as the landscape." 
 
 " That clock is my task-master ; but come here, mother. Do you 
 observe that bunch of asparagus ? It is heavy with the glorified 
 spirits of precious stones. Red, blue, purple, yellow and green, 
 
236 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 sparkle from every spray. Aladdin's cave had not more splendid 
 jewels than these." 
 
 *'The whole universe is an Aladdin's cave to you, Fannie ; come, 
 take those rolls from the oven, fill the coffee urn and arrange the 
 chairs at table. Richard has been reading two hours. This will 
 be a busy day, for you know you have preparations to make for to- 
 morrow, the Sabbath. As you have been propounded for admission 
 to the church, and no one has made objection to your being re- 
 ceived, I suppose you will take the vows of Cloudspire church upon 
 you to-morrow. I cannot think you understand the course you 
 insist upon taking, and I wish, Fanny, you could have consented to 
 wait till you are older." 
 
 The countenance and tone of Mrs. Beame was grave and remon- 
 
 strative, 
 
 " 1 am sorry to meet your disfavor, dear mother, but I am 
 eighteen ; too old to disobey the commands of our Savior, and my 
 own conscience. In matters between the soul and its Creator, each 
 one must be accountable for one's self." 
 
 " Then, I think, Fanny, that Cloudspire church has a great weight 
 of accountability resting upon it, which the simple act of eating 
 bread and drinking wine will not lighten." 
 
 Do you think, my child, that the sacraments they have partaken, 
 since Richard and their outrage upon him, was an outrage upon 
 millions of oppressed in our land ; I say, do you think those sacra- 
 ments have purified the church of this offense in the sight of that 
 Savior they profess to follow ? " 
 
 "Not that act alone ; but, mother, they were mistaken then, and 
 we should suppose that every heart can be softened by repentance. 
 They have forgiven me for my fiery denunciation of their faith in 
 the pulpit vvhere I had no right to go, and overlooked my hasty 
 
 4« 
 
 ansfer " 
 
 " Fanny, the church will overlook anything, any sin, any crime, 
 to obtain a new member ; however, it is too late to warn you now. 
 You persist in following " conscience ;" your conscience is noth- 
 ing more than an obedience to the persuasions of the new minister, 
 of' Deacon Steele and Mary. But let us say no more. We must 
 hasten to breakfast." 
 
 " Yes, mother, we have to go down the river to Susan's house 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 337 
 
 to-day, and to cook up something to carry her and the children, for 
 she has not heard from Henry for a long time." 
 
 " You have also to call upon the teacher, to smooth away the 
 troubles that a wicked prejudice casts in the way of Susan's little 
 ones. Have you not, my dear .-* " 
 
 Richard heard the question as he was seating himself at table, 
 and asked another, — 
 
 " How is this ? In the common school ? What trouble ? " 
 
 *•' You see, my son, it is simply the scorn of color : for Henry 
 Hughes children are as quick to learn as any pupils in school. 
 Fanny had them well advanced when they entered. They are 
 always tidily dressed, but some of the white children daily torment 
 them to crying ; they take away their dinners, tear their clothes, 
 hide their books, and taunt them with abusive names." 
 
 "The old story," he replied. " So, Fanny, you propose to take 
 the part of protector of the down-trodden .? " 
 
 "Yes, Richard. I cannot, by silence, 'pass by on the other side.* 
 I may give offense, however." 
 
 "That does not lessen your obligation. Whoever passes by the 
 abuses of that school, without rebuking its prejudice and the fruits 
 of it, is partaker of the very deeds ; and whoever neglects to inform 
 himself that such deeds are enacted there, is also culpable." 
 
 " I was resolved ; but, Richard, you give me new courage." 
 
 " Fanny, scatter truth always. Never a seed perishes. It may 
 fall upon dry or rocky soil, but time and genial rains will cause it 
 to bud and blossom. The whole district and the whole town even, 
 may, in time, feel the influence of your w^ords in behalf of the op- 
 pressed." 
 
 Fanny and her mother called at the schoolhouse about four 
 o'clock, to take the children with them on their walk to Susie's. 
 The path followed the river-bank; mossy, leafy, cool, and mottled 
 with sunny spots. The children each held a hand of Fanny's. 
 What a tide of joy and childish trust poured through her tender 
 clasp into their little brown hands empty of aught else ; empty of 
 worldly goods, worldly honor, but most empty of human love. 
 They ran away for blackberries and came back ; they stopped on 
 the shore to pick up the white pebbles for Fanny ; they drew both 
 ladies into a shady nook of hemlock to show a bird's nest with the 
 
338 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 blue eggs ; they plunged into the dry leaves like partridges, after 
 red berries. 
 
 A flat rock projected into the river under a broad chestnut. Mrs. 
 Beame proposed resting, and all seated themselves. 
 
 " Now, said Fanny, " let us change works. I will peep into 
 your satchels, and you shall peep into our pockets." 
 
 Amid the children's feasting from their pockets, Fanny exam- 
 ined progress in lessons ; turning over the books, she found many 
 leaves had been roughly torn out. 
 
 " Addie, how came this ? " she said. 
 
 Addie looked troubled, and was silent. 
 
 " Addie, dear, how was it ? " 
 
 Large tears filled the child's eyes. 
 
 " I'm afraid, Miss Fanny." 
 
 " Oh, no ! you should not fear me. Tell Fanny all. Nothing 
 shall harm you ; " and she drew the timid face to hers. 
 
 " Miss Fanny, won't you tell?" 
 
 " Not to harm you, darling ; tell Fanny all." 
 
 She drew Fanny's bonnet down to hers and whispered, — 
 
 " Do you know that big boy they call " Bully," the tavern- 
 keeper's boy?" 
 
 " Yes, Addie." 
 
 " Well, when I spell right and get up to the head in his class, 
 he tears out the leaf that's got the word on it, that I spell and get 
 above him. He says if I tell, he'll come down in these woods and 
 drown'd us when nobody knows it. He says ftiggers shan't go up 
 to the head of white folk's' classes. Don't you tell. Miss Fanny." 
 
 Willie saw a butterfly, jumped from the rock and vainly pursued 
 it up the mossy path. Returning hat in hand, Mrs. Beame per- 
 ceived a large, dark bruise on his forhead. 
 
 "O child ! " she asked, " what is the matter with your head ?" 
 
 " The boys pushed me off the steps, on a stone, and it bleeded." 
 
 " What did they say then ? " she calmly asked, stroking the shiny 
 waves of his soft black hair. 
 
 "They laughed, and made fun of me, and pushed me again." 
 
 " But, you know, Willie, some of the girls brought water to wash 
 it," said Addie, kindly. 
 
 They went on to the little cabin among the green shimmer of 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. ^^g 
 
 tall trees. The cove embosomed in high shores, reflected their 
 picturesque rocks and trees like a mirror. The homely hut, or 
 cabin, with its open door and window, saw itself in the water, and 
 the green sloping turf of the other, from Susie's door, kissed the 
 other in the water. A snowy washing hung and waved on Susie's 
 lines ; they fluttered also on the lines of the river. Visitors stood 
 at Susie's doorstep. Ladies and children stopped by the doorsteps 
 in the picture, also. 
 
 "You have another settlement near to cheer your solitude," 
 said Fanny, pointing to the cove ; " are they agreeable neighbors ? " 
 
 "Entirely so," said Susan. "There is no strife between us — 
 the families in the two cabins are alike, humble and poor." 
 
 " Come in, both of you. No, stay ; the room is too warm. I will 
 bring seats under the trees. I'm so glad you are come." 
 
 She sprang up the wooden steps and brought out a letter, hold- 
 ing it up gaylv for Fanny to read the inscription. 
 
 " Now we'll hear from papa, children. Will you read it, Fanny? 
 I got it yesterday, and was to take it to you last night, but for the 
 shower." 
 
 Fanny broke the seal. In unfolding the awkward half sheet of 
 fool's cap, something fell upon the grass ; swift as a mouse, 
 Susan's hand glided after it, and caught it up. 
 
 " Just like him. Look Mrs. Beame. Look, Fanny. How good 
 Henry is. I never had so much money before." Susan turned 
 the small package this way and that, as if she read affection in the 
 folding of the bank notes, and was gratifyihg her hungry heart 
 with the love of her husband, first. 
 
 " Count your treasure, dear," suggested Mrs. Beame. 
 
 " I will ask you to count it for me. I have never done such a 
 thing ; for, as I said, never so much money was in this house, 
 before." 
 
 Mrs. Beame ran it over. 
 
 "Twenty-five dollars, Susan; it will make you quite comfortable 
 if care is taken in expending it. Better put it in a safe place till 
 you need it. Now, Fanny, read the letter to Susan." 
 
 The writing was crude, and the sentences were ungrammatical. 
 A rough hand had penned it from dictation, and it was mailed in 
 New York. 
 
340 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Fanny read, — 
 
 ''My Dear Wife and Children, — Thank God, that with all our hard lot, 
 this comfort and privilege of writing is left us. It is a long time since I parted 
 from you at our poor door by the river. I have been in great cities, have seen 
 strange things. I have seen marble houses, grand churches, and huts as poor 
 as ours. I have come to believe that the poor are in every corner of the land. 
 I have sailed on the ocean, and 1 have seen waves that would toss our house 
 about, like an egg-shell. 
 
 " I have turned sailor. My last voyages have been to Havanna. That is a 
 very hot country. Oranges and lemons grow there. I never forget you. You 
 are by me night and day. The world is hard on me everywhere, but I have 
 managed to save this money for you and the children. I never could have 
 given you so much money if I had staid at Aldcrbank. Buy something to eat 
 and to wear through the cold winter coming. I must try to help you buy a 
 store by that time. Try to have the children go to school, and help them to' put 
 up with the treatment I know they will get there. I believe schooling will help 
 them to get along better than you and I do. They will know then who is cheat- 
 ing them out of their wages and who is robbing them at the stores. 
 
 " I could write all night, but I shall tire this shipmate who writes for me. In 
 any trouble of yours or the children, get the advice of Mrs, I3eame and Fanny. 
 God bless that family. Give them my best respects. I shall be in port two 
 weeks. Get a letter written, and direct care of A. Z. Rov. schooner ' Petrel ; ' 
 Box — 
 
 "Your faitthfnl husband till death, 
 
 "Henry Huges." 
 
 " P. S. The captain is kind and will not see his men abused." 
 
 *'0h ! thank you, Fann}^" said Susan ; " how glad I am to hear 
 from Henry; but he is so far away." Her face saddened. "The 
 ocean is so dangerous. He promised to come back in the spring. 
 O, Mrs. Beame ! hfe is such a hard struggle with everybody against 
 you." 
 
 " Do not look upon the dark side," said Mrs. Beame. " The 
 same God rules the sea, as rules the land. Keep up a good heart ; 
 out of the money, you shall have more comfort than you dreamed 
 of — some clothing new and strong— that will not need to be 
 patched at every washing, when you are too tired to hold a needle ; 
 and you shall have food and warmth." 
 
 "And the children are already at school," added Fanny. 
 
 " But for Henry's letter, I believe they would not be at school 
 to-morrow. I might as well confess the truth, I was angered. 1 
 cannot take insults all my life. No, I might bitterly endure them 
 myself, but to know that my innocent children are buffeted at every 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 34I 
 
 Step forward, is tantalizing beyond degree. Addie comes home 
 and repeats language to me, which none but savages would speak 
 to her, much less Christian children. Her spelling-book, which I 
 have taught the children to take such care of, has leaf after leaf 
 torn out of it. Willie is covered with bruises ; besides, I am obliged 
 to go with them along the river path mornings, to the foot of the 
 hill, and meet them there in the afternoon. Addie says she is 
 afraid. I'm sure I don't why ; whether her head is full of ghosts or 
 what it is." 
 
 "Never mind it, Susan ; all these vexations belong to the times 
 — but the times will change Truth advances. By and by, all 
 these harrowing deeds will be buried in the past. The education 
 of your children is for a living future. With books, study and the 
 nurturing care of us all, Willie and Addie may rise to positions of 
 happiness and honor. They may exchange this pleasant nest 
 among the trees for ceiled houses amongst gardens and vines, 
 and — " 
 
 Susan broke into a nervous, incredulous laugh, in which both 
 visitors gleefully united. The adjoining woods took up the half 
 joyful, half derisive laughter, till the green dephts were alive with 
 its echoing vollies. 
 
 Susie's unbelief looked out through the sunshine and rain of her 
 eyes. 
 
 " O Mrs. Beame ! do not, I beg you, speak to me of impossibili- 
 ties. What am I, to plant one bright hope in my heart, dark as 
 ignorance can make it. The only light in it — the pitch flare of our 
 wretched experience. What am I, Fanny.? Compare yourself 
 with me. What am I but a washing-machine, that thinks, thinks, 
 how or what? thoughts no wider than this cove, nor higher than 
 these trees, nor deeper than the hollow of my potato hills, there; 
 and my children — " 
 
 In a twinkling, as if she heard the cry of one drovvming, Fanny 
 tossed her bundle on the sward, and kneeling by the low seat of 
 Susie, playfully placed one hand on her grieving mouth, and 
 caressed her wavy hair with the other. 
 
 "Hush! Susie, hush! Don't think of it. Have a little hope. 
 Henry, my mother and I, have paid you a visit in a most opportune 
 time. Let us all fight together the good fight of faith." 
 
342 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 ** Faith for what, Fanny, and in what? " 
 
 "Faith for the future, dear," said Mrs. Beame ; "for the future 
 in this world too, I mean. Persist in sending; these children to the 
 vilhige school. Do your duty to them. We will help you. Some 
 wrongs have been corrected to-day." Mrs. Beame sent Willie and 
 Addie out to pick a cup of berries, and resumed, — 
 
 "Fanny has had a conversation with the teacher to-day, about 
 the abuses of your children, and she has promised to set about a 
 reform. This will have an effect on the parents ; ' a little leaven 
 leaveneth the whole lump.' A gentler, tenderer feeling towards 
 colored citizens will take root. 
 
 " Susie, you asked, ' Faith i?i what ? ' Let me tell you ; faith in 
 the great Shepherd of us all. There is no Babel of wrongs so high 
 that He cannot overturn it. He will set bounds to oppression ; 
 either national or individual. Who knows how soon those bounds 
 may be reached.^ Trust in Him, Susie." 
 
 She reached for the bundle, saying, — 
 
 " See there is something to lighten you burdens. She held up 
 two new dresses for Addie, one blue, the other pink ; two new 
 aprons tastefully made ; a summer suit of gray for Willie, and a 
 pair of long-sleeved aprons, strong and new ; besides, two sets of 
 strong underwear for each ; two new satchels, prettier than any 
 others in school ; ruffles for the neck of Addie's dresses ; bright 
 ribbons for her hair ; white collars for Willie ; several small hand- 
 kerchiefs, and a neat hat for each. 
 
 Susie's face lost its melancholy. 
 
 "Now," said Fanny, "put the clothing on the children, right 
 away. Dress them prettily for school, and take courage. I am' 
 going from home for a few weeks, but I shall be content to feel 
 that they are well dressed. I shall leave a new book for Addie, 
 with the teacher, and as many more as they may need." 
 
 "Next, promise me," said Mr. Beame, "that every Thursday af- 
 ternoon, you will bring the children, and eat a hearty supper with 
 me while Fanny is gone. Richard is going also ; I shall be 
 aione." 
 
 " Promise, Susan," said Fanny. 
 
 " It win be a great pleasure, if we are worthy to sit at Mrs. 
 Beame's table." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 343 
 
 At the same time she was pulling sweet pinks, four-o'clock s, 
 wliite lilies and mignonette for her friends. 
 
 Fanny took them from Susie with a deep courtesy, and said 
 laughingly,— 
 
 " If the same hand that formed you, shaped and tinted these 
 flowers, you sliould sit at the table of kings and be a princess 
 yourself. We are going; walk with us, you and the children, 
 along the river path." 
 
 A companion party started at the same moment from the other 
 cabin, mirrored in the cove. Fanny waved her handkerchief to the 
 friendly "Undines," and received an answering white wave of a 
 handkerchief in return. 
 
 The morning of the morrow, the Sabbath morning of Fanny's 
 consecration, the morning of the day in which she was to be set 
 apart from the world, a chosen vessel of the Lord, dawned glori- 
 ously. Fanny, according to the pattern which she had drawn from 
 pious memoirs, retired to her closet, and on her knees, repeated a 
 formula of prayer, fiamed of fragmentary sentences, gleaned from 
 the pulpit and the family altars of her religious friends, and which 
 she deemed appropriate for the occasion. 
 
 A look of exalted martyrdom solemnly veiled her usual beaming 
 vivacity, as she moved silently about her morning tasks. At the 
 sight of this "Third Heaven" expression, her mother frequently 
 turned away, and smiled; affectionately abstaining from wounding 
 the mistaken ecstasy of her beloved child. 
 
 Mrs. Beame even accompanied Fanny on the long ride to Cloud- 
 spire, driving herself ; she cheerfully sustained conversation upon 
 the natural attractions along the route. She entered the double 
 green door of the church by her daughter's side, and sat by her 
 in one of the sqaure, high-backed pews. 
 
 During the morning services, Fanny's glances towards her 
 mother's countenance convinced her that the old spirit of unbelief 
 was still triumphant, — a phase of spiritual degeneracy, most chill- 
 ing to Fanny's thoughts. It caused a stab of patn to her own de- 
 votion ; and beneath the shelter of her cottage bonnet she closed 
 her eyes, offering a petition that she might not be separated from 
 that dear mother at the gate of Heaven, to whose entrance she. 
 
344 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 herself, expected to attain, through belief and the " perseverance of 
 the saints." 
 
 At the commencement of the exercises of the Lord's Supper, 
 Fanny's grief for her mother was cruelly intensified. The elect, and 
 those about taking sacred vows, were requested to sit apart in a 
 body. This seemed typicar of the final separation^ of the faithful 
 and unbelieviug. Taking her seat in Deacon Steele's pew by 
 Mary, Fanny saw her mother enter a pew near the door. She 
 could not restrain regretful tears. 
 
 Standing in the aisle, with other candidates, and assenting to 
 " Articles of Faith " clearly pronounced by the pleasant voice of 
 the new clergyman, but vaguely understood by the candidates, 
 Fanny felt that this act of earthly renunciation was the most ac- 
 ceptable service she could render to the Savior she adored. She 
 believed this form of confession well pleasing to Him, but did not 
 understand that her visit to Susie's cabin, the day previous, was 
 rayed with a more ineffable glory than this Sabbath errand to 
 Cloudspire. Nor did she imagine that when she knelt by Susan, 
 and pityingly passed her hand over her stricken head, there was 
 more joy in Heaven than when she solemnly and publicly assented 
 to those cold, mysterious " Articles." 
 
 Wtith bared head, her brown hair banded plainly back, and wear- 
 ing the simplest dress of unadorned white, in pure and nun-like 
 humility she approachad the silver font, brooded by winged an- 
 gels, and which contained the liquid seal of her union with the 
 people of God. 
 
 Inexpressible stillness pervaded the church, while the water of 
 consecration fell from the hand held above her head, and the 
 voice of the clergyman said with fraternal gentleness, — 
 
 ^^ Fa?iny, I baptize t/iee, m the 7iame of the Father^ the Son, and the 
 Holy Ghosty 
 
 It was over, — this long-desired and filial act of Fanny's life, 
 she rode home with her mother, studying patiently how to set 
 about the fulfillment of her church vows most acceptably. 
 
 At tea, Richard joined them. Like his sister, he clung to the 
 church, its creeds and ceremonies. He had no doubt of its errors, 
 but time and investagation of disproved claims would restore har- 
 mony between it and himself. He approved the step Fanny had 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 345 
 
 « 
 
 taken. Both were alike hopeful ; both considered the church the 
 true germinating soil of man's salvation. 
 
 "Speaking of the errors of the church, my dear son," said Mrs. 
 Beame, "one error destroys its infallibility, as a system to be 
 trusted ; besides, one error supposes two^ and a continuation of 
 h\\i\\(\Q.\s, ad infinihun. The search for that plain path laid down 
 by our Savior, so plain, ' that a wayaring man, though a fool, need 
 not err therein,' has been an eig/iteen-kiindred years' search, and the 
 church has not found it yet, as you, Richard, learned at William 
 Steele's revival. Fannv * if the blind lead the blind, they both fall 
 into the ditch.' I charge you, my daughter, to make the example 
 of Christ your study. Time will test for you both, the value of 
 church fellowship." 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE fiery glow of midsummer had passed. Carolina's " City 
 by the Sea " shook the hot dust from her parched bowers, 
 and began to put on her beautiful garments. The garden roses 
 which refused their graces to the ardent heat, now sprung into new 
 life. Trellis, bower, wall 2iud parterre burst into beauty and fra- 
 grance. Tender folded leaves shot out from the hitherto dormant 
 buds, and drank the exhileration of a Southern November air. 
 Charleston was in its second annual floral glory. 
 
 Mistress Valmonte stood at a table heaped with the odorous 
 harvest, which Tony, the old black gardener, knew how to cut so 
 well. Scilla, the lady's brown maid, was deftly arranging bouquets, 
 under the eye of her mistress, whose delicate gloved hands only 
 waved over the thorny stems, in airy oratory, directing harmony 
 in color and combination. 
 
 " Tony, bring more of the white P mperatrice de laF ranee ^' said the 
 mistress ; in whose words a new-born gayety was quite observable 
 to the demure and statuesque ears of Scilla. " Clip also some 
 of the half-open buds, Tony, and bring more of the mignonette." 
 
 " Bring all 'rectly missis ! " turning to obey. 
 
 "Cut a few of those pale blue South American lilies at the 
 
34^ WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 edge of the fountain, and a handful of white and crimson fuschias. 
 Hear?" 
 
 " Sartin, my dear missis." 
 
 Soon the beautiful flowers were heaped upon the table, wet with 
 dew-drops still. 
 
 Scilla held the second bouquet, completed. It was a marvel 
 of beauty, as she turned it this way and that for the inspection of 
 her mistress. 
 
 '•' Scilla, place this in the Roman vase, and the other in the vase 
 of silver and alabaster, the one I brought from Paris for the 
 parlors." Then pointing to a heap of roses white as drifted snow, 
 she continued, *' Make up one less compact of these '' Pinperatrice 
 dc la France,^ and mingle here and there, these crimson bells of 
 fuschia ; make it light and graceful." 
 
 The lady stood by, her eye kindling with secret satisfaction, as 
 Scilla brought it nearer to perfection. 
 
 " Now bring the Venetian vase ; place it in that, carry it up to 
 the guest-chamber, and leave it on the marble table." 
 
 It was brought. One would scarcely know which to admire 
 most, the vase or the flowers. The sculpture was wrought from 
 the finest marble, elaborated from the drippings of some European 
 stalactite cave. It had three shades of a warm soft brown color. 
 A maiden kneelino: and clad in a flowing: robe held above her 
 bowed head an urn of green malachite, sleeted with pearls. The 
 maiden herself was brown. Life like ringlets of a darker shade 
 fell over her nude dimpled shoulders, and over the still lighter 
 shaded folds of her loose classical drapery. One crimson bell of 
 fuschia touched her exquisite head, another shaded the bare, 
 brown, tapering arm raised to the urn above it. 
 
 " Put this away Scilla, in some place sheltered from dust, till the 
 guest-chamber is arranged. Then put together a larger bouquet 
 of white callas, and those blue Mexican lilies, with English ivy 
 interspersed ; place that in the alabaster vase, and let the ivy 
 sprays droop over it. Also," the lady continued, waving her 
 gloved hands over the fragrant clippings, "form another still, 
 entirely of roses ; mingle all hues, and varieties of odor." 
 
 " Yes, missis," meekly replied the faithful slave. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 347 
 
 Mistress Valmonte was leaving the room, when suddenly arrest- 
 ing herself, she resumed. 
 
 " Oh, no, Scilla, throw them in water now ; come to dress me, and 
 attend to the flowers afterwards." 
 
 The lady entered her chamber, and with an air of fatigue, threw 
 herself into a velvet arm-chair. She drew off her gloves nervously, 
 joined her soft hands as if in the act of petition ; while she cast a 
 languid glance about the handsome apartment. The walls were 
 hung with mementos of foreign travel. Solemn abbeys, pictur- 
 esque chateau, snowy peaks and sunny lakes, stirred the dearest 
 memories of her proud heart. 
 
 Each view was associated with the voice and love of one whose 
 presence had deepened the glow of the sunlight, and heightened 
 the beauty of every scene. Electric thought flew rapidly back 
 over every link of those associations, to the golden hour, when at 
 the age of seventeen, she stood with that chosen one before the 
 marriage altar, laid her jeweled hand in his, and took upon herself 
 the vows of womanhood. 
 
 More slowly retracing the past, she paused at two more evenful 
 moments, so hallowed to every mother's memory, when, faint with 
 hope and fear, a tiny new life was laid upon her hosom, and com- 
 mitted to her future keeping. 
 
 The birthplace of her eldest, Ernestin, was commemorated by a 
 quiet Roman suburb on the wall at her left. The spires of the 
 Holy City, and the gilded dome of " St. Peter's," pierced the mel- 
 low air. Around the ground of the villa, a dreamy dilapidation 
 was apparent, excluding bustle and fashion, while it secreted and 
 shielded the one great joy within — the birth of a son and heir 
 to the rank and chivalry of the distinguished name of Valmonte of 
 South Carolina. 
 
 The birthplace of Corinne, the younger, was portrayed by shaded 
 windows, overlooking the Rialto of Venice, and its gay gondolas, 
 skimming the liquid thoroughfares below. 
 
 The tender transcripts of a sainted past shed a grieved rebuke 
 upon her morning's work — the intense light of her eyes faded into 
 a subdued lustre. 
 
 Above the mantel shone the beautiful waters of Lake Constance, 
 overhung by the silvery outline of the Alps Appenzell. On its 
 
348 WHITE MAY, AND I3LACK JUNE. 
 
 southern fertile bank, apart from clustered abodes, rose the white 
 marble shaft, which marked the grave of her young husband, Fran- 
 cis Valmonte, near by the pretty Swiss cottage where their jour- 
 neyings diverged forever. 
 
 Alas ! the flowers desinged for the guest-chamber seemed to her 
 for the moment appropriate garlands for that sacred spot. 
 
 However, Tune, which covers reeking battle-fields with flowers, 
 and which veils ghastly ruins with most inviting grace, was proving 
 a most reliable friend to Mistress Valmonte. Three years of his 
 healing art had restored her natural vivacity and her sparkling 
 glow of health. Time had made green again the indefinable long- 
 ing for that companionship, which should bring with it the fulfill- 
 ment of all life's possibilities. 
 
 Theresa Valmonte was not one to be deterred from the prosecu- 
 tion of a well-arranged plan. Having once formed a purpose, it 
 became the pole star of every motive. She was the conscious pos- 
 sessor of that triple dower, wealth, beauty and accomplishments; 
 to which, in woman, the world pays obsequious homage. The sec- 
 ond portion of her dower, her mirror, flatteringly whispered. 
 
 " It pictured a blonde with a superb cut of features, an abundance 
 of braided hair, a shade darker than flaxen ; a full, rounded bust ; 
 arms of perfect symmetry; and hdinds J>e/i/cs, on which could not 
 be seen the faintest stain of industry. 
 
 She was weary of the sombre weeds of widowhood, and was de- 
 termined to brave the time-honored custom of her native State — 
 that of dooming herself to a solitary and widowed life. 
 
 Therefore, as the expected occupant of the guest-chamber was to 
 arrive during the day, she would commence to lay aside those grave 
 habiliments of grief which found no semblance in her heart or affec- 
 tions. Orders were given accordingly. 
 
 " Scilla, ring the bell for the chamber-maid ; and lay out my 
 gray carriage-suit." 
 
 The chamber-maid appeared, and received commands to dress 
 the chamber with great care, using the embroidered, lace-frilled 
 pillow-covers, and the fine frilled linen sheets ; to loop up the lace 
 pavilion with the white silk cord and tassels, and to have all com- 
 pleted by her return, 
 
 *' Scilla, ring the bell for the footman and order the carriage at 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 349 
 
 ten. Now dress me and listen to what I shall say." While the 
 dexterous hands of the maid drew on her mistress' bootees, and 
 while she buttoned and smoothed the fine fabric to Madame Val- 
 monte's form, while she adjusted the costly collar round her clear 
 throat, and drew on carefully her close-fitting gloves, her lady con- 
 tinued, — 
 
 " While I am away, lay out my white dress, find my lace flounces, 
 get them ready for my toilet at dinner. Lay out my set of pearls ; 
 have ready also, a few clusters of that small purple flower near the 
 century plant ; Tony knows where it is. Now bring my purse and 
 the note which the footman brought up yesterday. It is ten 
 o'clock." 
 
 Scilla followed the madame down stairs; opening and closing 
 doors for her, as she swept on to the carriage. Sne even followed 
 to the marble block, at the carriage steps, and held away her dress 
 from the dust of the wheels, although that was the prerogative of 
 the footman in attendance. 
 
 Before the door closed, the lady addressed her maid, speaking 
 in a low tone. 
 
 "Tell that detestable minx, Harriet, to dress my darlings, and 
 take them out walking^ for one hour." 
 
 The spirited grays dashed away to East Bay. They tossed their 
 heads and flung their foam before the oflSce door of '' Ker- 
 shaw & Lewis," the financial agents of her ancient family. 
 
 The door swung open — the lady entered the small carpeted 
 room, prepared for such patrons. After the blandest of receptions, 
 seating herself, she drew out a note. Cautiously glancing it over, 
 she addressed the factor. 
 
 '• I see, Mr. Kershaw, by this communication, that my funds for 
 the present are already all drawn." 
 
 "I regret to say that you are correctly informed. Mistress Val- 
 monte ; especially if it subjects you to any annoyance." 
 
 '•I confess to some surprise, sir. Doubtless, this was owing to 
 heedlessness on my part. If you please, sir, will you inform me to 
 what items I am indebted for this failure } " 
 
 "With much pleasure, madame." 
 
 He stepped into the office, and returned with her own ledger — 
 a handsome book, bound on the back and corners in red morocco. 
 
35o WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 A square of the same color on the cover, bore in gilt letters the name, 
 " llicrcsa Valmontc^ nee Paisley^ He drew a chair to her side, 
 and on the marble table, turned the fateful leaves. 
 
 " There, madame, are the items which swell our credit column 
 beyond its annual amount. Your trip to the North, this year, com- 
 menced earlier, and continued later than usual." 
 
 He traced the pages of the previous year, and compared those 
 expenses with the present. 
 
 " You perceive this amount is three thousand dollars more than 
 last year." 
 
 '"Very true, sir." 
 
 " I would also direct your attention to the purchase of furniture, 
 made at that time." 
 
 "Ah, yes, I recollect." 
 
 " That amount was two thousand dollars ; also the excellent 
 matched pair of carriage horses, purchased in New York, and the 
 cost of transferring them to Charleston — twelve hundred dollars." 
 
 *']Mr. Kershaw, I believe Dido was sold from my estate; I think 
 last spring; jnst after my arrival in New York. I disremember 
 precisely what her sale brought me." 
 
 '•I will show you with great pleasure. Pray pardon me one mo- 
 ment." 
 
 He left the room again, opened a large, tin trunk containing the 
 •family papers and correspondence, took from it a package of let- 
 ters and returned. Running rapidlv over the pile, he selected one 
 labelled " Sale of Dido r 
 
 With a wave of her hand, she said, — 
 
 '• Read it sir, if you please. These business details are exceed- 
 ing irksome to me." He read, — 
 
 " Neiv York, 184 — 
 " Messrs. Kershavv & Lewis, — Gentlemen, — I am compelled to call upon 
 you again, for an addition to my funds in hand. I have recently met here the 
 Rev. Mr, Luther Winfield, who is building up a church, as I believe in the in- 
 terests of the gospel. He interprets the Constitution as harmonious in principle 
 with our Holy Bible, in respect to slavery. Although born and raisec^ in the 
 North, he is not one of those dangerous fanatics, who constantly disturb our 
 Southern peace ; but is a bold standard-bearer for our time-honored Institution. 
 His church is yet struggling in its infancy ; I am reminded of my duty 
 towards it. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 35 1 
 
 "I have a slave, called 'Dido,' on 'Deer Park' plantation, which I beg you 
 to have brought to the city for sale. Dido has a clear, brown color, and is 
 about twenty-two years old, entirely sound. I wish to donate to Rev. \Vin- 
 field's church one thousand dollars. Sell Dido for as much over that sum as 
 possible. Remit to me the whole proceeds, I meet at this church a host of our 
 Charleston friends. They are all quite well. 
 
 "Respectfully Yours, 
 
 "Theresa Valmonte." 
 
 "This wench Dido, was highly marketable," explained the factor. 
 *'0n the auction table she brought eleven hundred and fifty dollars; 
 but of course the one hundred and fifty above your charity was of 
 little use." 
 
 " Ah, yes ! The one-thousand dollars was a timely aid to the 
 church ; and the surplus of one hundred and fifty dollars I de- 
 posited in the private purse of Lottie, the worthy pastor's wife." 
 
 " So that the sale of the girl was of no benefit to yourself." 
 
 " Certainly not, pecuniarily — only in the consciousness of having 
 added my mite in sustaining our Holy Church ; but the disposal 
 of Dido's price was not quite clear to memory. The letter, how- 
 ever, elucidates, and removes all obscurity relating to the transac- 
 tion. I regret, Mr. Kershaw, to have given you so much trouble ; 
 and yet, to escape from this unforseen dilemma, I have one more 
 favor to ask. 
 
 " Demand of us any favor, my dear madame. It shall be our 
 highest pleasure to serve you." 
 
 " Accept my thanks sir, for this consideration. I desire to give 
 a mortgage on my footman, ' Ishmael,' for a few hundred dollars, 
 and to sell him afterwards when I shall have provided myself with 
 another." 
 
 " We will make the requisite advance upon him at any time you 
 choose to designate." 
 
 " He is a prime, likely fellow," continued the lady, " sound and 
 saleable. I have need of the money this morning." 
 
 " We are at your service, madame ; how much is desired ? " 
 
 " Whatever your judgement suggests, sir." 
 
 "Kershaw &l Lewis " had dealt in the family histories of blue- 
 blooded aristocracy for many years. They knew how these genea- 
 logical trees had been budded and grafted, and how these boasted 
 
 V 
 
^ 
 
 52 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 ancestral currents were wont to turn from their legal direction, and 
 n. ingle with foreign vitality. 
 
 Mr. Kershaw, the factor, held the key to the mysteries of Doc- 
 tor Paisley's family. He knew that in Ishmael's veins coursed the 
 same proud blood, as in the azure channels of Theresa Valmonte's. 
 He knew that Theresa, the mistress, and Ishmael, the footman, 
 were brother and sister — knew it as well as Theresa and Ishmael 
 themselves. A stranger would have been struck with the simi- 
 larity in their mold of features, in the finely arched nose, in the 
 level penciled eyebrows, in the fine chin, in the full-orbed eyes, 
 differing only in color. Both faces, the brown brother's and the 
 waxen sister's, wore the subtle expression of hauteur which distin- 
 guished the Paisley descent. 
 
 The factor also knew that both these before him, were the two 
 poems of Doctor Paisley's life — the one, written in illuminated 
 silver ; the other, in rich, tawny gold 
 
 The two mothers had each hidden her secret sorrows in her own 
 grave, years agone — the one beneath sculptured marble and a 
 lofty name — the other beneath the common turf of oblivion. Ish- 
 mael had been given to Theresa iu her marriage portion, as a fit- 
 ting little page for this queen-like daughter of the South, Her 
 title to her brother was clear and legal. He was received among 
 her goods and chattels, consequently was wholly at her disposal. 
 
 Besides this consciousness of power over him, other motives 
 urged his separation from her family. The growing fondness 
 which their gray headed father manifested for this Benjamin of 
 his heart, proved a thorn to Theresa's content. Ishmael must be 
 ever about him, at morning, midday and night. She had seen her 
 father's eye brighten with delight at his son's approach. She had 
 observed the shade of anxiety which quickly responded to a casual 
 cloud upon the boy's face. 
 
 Corinne, her youngest, whose yet infantine heart pulsated the 
 unadulterated blood of two branches of Carolina's chivalry, and 
 whose skin was waxen as a snow-drop, also loved Ishmael. The 
 mother had met her child, dancing up and down the long hall by 
 his side with her tiny hand in his. Corinne often nestled into his 
 strong, gentle arms, peering into the depths of his dark, quiet eyes, 
 and caressed his handsome face. She would climb into a chair 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 353 
 
 beside him, dally with his soft hair, and count its glossy waves in 
 her sweet, childish prattle, till his thoughtful face beamed into a 
 new happiness. 
 
 Madame Valmonte had resolved that this condition of things 
 should exist no longer. She would tear him awav from all these 
 household affections, she would crush them root and branch. 
 Hence Ishmael's mortgage and anticipated sale. 
 
 " Messrs. Kershaw & Lewis in the outer office exchanged a few 
 confidential sentences, passed separately to the door, before which 
 the " boy " waited by the carriage steps, returned to the desk and 
 filled out a printed form of mortgage. 
 
 Mr. Kershaw presented himself to the lady, bearing the mort- 
 gage in hand and proffering a polite excuse. 
 
 " I regret to prolong the tedium of business ; but here is the in- 
 strument, Madame Valmonte, requiring your signature, and in virtue 
 of which, we advance you five hundred dollars on Ishmael. Will 
 you read it, madame.'' " 
 
 Again the gloved hand waved, the head slightly turned away, the 
 lips said, — 
 
 "No indeed! I have full confidence in your fidelity, sir; " and 
 quickly affixed her name to the document. 
 
 With a smile of polite satisfaction, she received the five hundred 
 dollars and placed it in her purse. 
 
 Ishmael held her dress from contact with carriage dust, and 
 closed the door after her. 
 
 " Drive to the silk merchant's in King street." 
 
 Away they flew. When the liveried coachman drew rein before 
 the merchant's gay windows, and he saw the lady herself alight, he 
 secretly rubbed his hands with gratification. He offered her the 
 obsequiousness that her rank and style decided proper. 
 
 Piece after piece of costly silks from every country where the 
 mulberry grows, or the Bombyx Mori spins its shroud, were handed 
 from the shelves. His counters glowed and glossed in rippling 
 waves of lustre and brightness. He drew out separate fabrics to 
 the best advantage. Hues of spring, summer and autumn, tints 
 of blossoming orchards and ripened fruits, the glow of sunrises, 
 sunsets and noonday skies were spread about in sheeny disorder. 
 
 This customer had no time to lose. Although her taste was 
 
354 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 fascinated by rich satins and entrancing colors, a quick eye, 
 prompted by warning memories, selected a delicate, amethystine 
 gray. 
 
 "Chaste and subdued it must be," thought she. 
 
 The merchant raised it over his hand, drawing it up in folds. 
 
 " Ah ! madame, that is superb ! Allow me to commend your 
 choice. The color is soft as the haze of summer ; it has such a 
 body that it stands alone. Such a silk the empress might wear." 
 
 Ishmael, who attended his mistress, took the package from the 
 merchant's hands and followed Theresa to the carriage. The 
 coachman's next direction was to Madmoiselle La Rondes. 
 
 Here the reception was conducted in the same servility of man- 
 ner. The little French dressmaker acceded toher patrons caprices 
 with "^/<f /argess plaish'." She fluttered about among the patterns 
 and the beaux moddes des robes^ repeating, — 
 
 " ye snis c/iarmee to see IMadame Valmonte le matin. I shall 
 bring Mam'zelle Jeane chez voiis i77imediatemejit. I has plentee nou- 
 veaux modoles de Paris voycz dis one." 
 
 Her jeweled fingers flew among the boxes, removing a dozen 
 covers, and putting the counters in admirable confusion. 
 
 "Look dis corsage for wie 7'obe de soiey She held in her hand a 
 doll dressed in Parisian mode. 
 
 "How you like, madame?" Cctte robe vous ira a merveiile / a 
 me?'veille ! Jeane, come to me dis moment." 
 
 After many little peremptory gesticulations and French ejacula- 
 tions, she pointed to the doll. 
 
 " Preiiez la pour modeled 
 
 She expressed to Theresa great delight, " d^ avoir Poccasion de vous 
 etre tit He J' 
 
 The final stroke of condescension was directed to Jeane, amidst 
 sundry nods and smiles. 
 
 " Sou venez-vous. La robe seraitji}ie bientot^ 
 
 The departure was followed up with persistent good nature. 
 Madmoiselle La Rondes proceeded to the door, saying, — 
 
 " jfe vais Vouvrir moi-memeJ^ chattering meanwhile the most 
 charming au revoirs" 
 
 A short time after the return home, Ishmael answered the street- 
 bell to the children and their young governess. Passing in, weary 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 355 
 
 and flushed with the heat of the street, she left her charge in the 
 care of Issy for a moment, then came tripping down stairs to the 
 parlor door — hesitated, and entered. During her absence, Corinne 
 climbed upon his knee, drew his head down, confiding to his ear 
 what seemed to her, important information. 
 
 "Issy," she whispered, "we saw Major Measures on our walk. 
 After he had spoken to Eddie and me, he complimented Hattie on 
 her beauty, and called her a Northern lily. Mamma will be angry 
 if she knows it, for she dislikes her. He is coming soon to call 
 upon grandpapa and mamma." 
 
 '• So, so," nodded Issey ; " he did ! " 
 
 " Yes ! " and with her arms about his neck, and her cheek 
 against his, she whispered her request, — 
 
 " You will not speak of it, Issy, because I love Hattie ? " 
 
 "No, no! Miss Corinne. Issy will say nothing." 
 
 The scene in the parlor might interest the reader. Hattie learned 
 from Scilla that Mistress Valmonte was below, and accordingly 
 hastened to the parlor. 
 
 " Mistress Valmonte, I beg pardon for the interruption, but I 
 would like to ask if I can practice an hour upon the piano now, 
 before dinner, and if Scilla will remain with the children in the 
 nursery, meantime?" 
 
 A frown gathered on the lady's lips. 
 
 "There will be no more practice this week. Take the children 
 to the nursery yourself. At one o'clock, repair to my dressing-room 
 and spend the remainder of the day in sewing. I claim your time. 
 Colonel Ashland agreed that the daily routine of your duties 
 should be at my disposal. I am harassed by this continued prac- 
 tice." 
 
 *' Colonel Ashland urged my coming to Charleston, for the rea- 
 son that my musical advantages would be improved by an accept- 
 ance of this situation." 
 
 " Colonel Ashland is a gentleman of veracity, yet your words are 
 a contradiction of mine. Do not, Harriet, add falsehood to im- 
 pertinency." 
 
 Blank surprise marked the accused girl's manner ; yet after a 
 little hesitation, she summoned courage to say, — 
 
 "I trust, Misstress Valmonte, you do not consider it impertinent 
 
356 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 to consult you respecting my hour of practice. I am ignorant of 
 any other impropriety. The accusation of falsheood wounds me. 
 ]\ry mother brought me up in the love of truth, and in the fear of 
 the Creator." 
 
 "I am not interested in your family relations," bitterly responded 
 the lady. "On that head, I prefer silence. You are impertinent 
 in replying at all to my commands, but the highest degree of igno- 
 rant impudence is in the assertion entirely opposed to mine, con- 
 cerning Colonel Ashland." 
 
 " My explanation was truthful ; " said the weeping girl. 
 
 In a twinkling, the slap of a slipper stung each side of her face, 
 causing it to burn scarlet. Before her terrified gaze stood Mistress 
 Valmonte in towering anger, holding the Southern weapon yet in 
 her hand. Swift bolts of wrath fell from the lady's incensed eyes 
 upon Hattie as she cried, — 
 
 " Silence ! audacity, silence ! I command it. Leave my pres- 
 ence, thou base-born Northerner ! " 
 
 Hattie fled to the hall without farther admonition, and took the 
 children to the nurser3\ Now, indeed, she felt her utter desola- 
 tion. 
 
 Accustomed to the eternal distance between her sufferings and 
 the grave of her mother, she longed for the faithful arms of old 
 Mauma Rose. 
 
 " Oh ! ■' thought Hattie, " could I but lay my head upon her lap, 
 and feel her soothing hand upon its throbbing pain ! " 
 
 She pressed her temples nervously with both hands, and leaned 
 over the sill of her chamber window, as if to catch sight of the 
 dear old black face in the garden. 
 
 A nonpariel's carol in a crape myrtle, the lofty blue sk}*, a small 
 white cloud sailing slowly past, and the bright flowers below, had 
 a balm for her miserv. She seemed to hear her mother's voice, 
 sharing, as of old, in the lovely phase of nature. She seemed to 
 feel her arm about her, and to hear her quiet words, — 
 
 " Be calm, my daughter. Endure ! " 
 
 She sank into a seat, and peered into the fathomless blue, 
 questioning if her mother were somewhere there ; if in celestial 
 robes she might be looking down upon her child ; if she might 
 know the eventb of this bitter hour.^ The silence of eternity was 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 357 
 
 her only answer. Dropping her head upon her arms again, she 
 wept. 
 
 Corinne and Ernestin approached and leaned upon her. 
 
 " Hattie, what makes you cry? " 
 
 Corinne would wipe away the tears with her own little handker- 
 chief. When Hattie said "Hush? children," to their innocent 
 prattle, Corinne insisted. 
 
 " I must talk, Hattie. I must comfort you, Hattie. I love you. 
 Ernestin loves you." 
 
 It was one o'clock. Scilla appeared at the nursery door, to take 
 charge of the children, a signal that Mistress Valmonte inflexibly 
 demanded Ilattie's assistance in her dressing-room. Sustained by 
 an approving consciousness of right, she entered the chamber of 
 the mistress, and met her frozen, supercilous manner, with a 
 forced serenity, equaling that of the lady. She received her task 
 from a heap of laces, setting quietly about it 
 
 In a few moments, Hattie observed through the glass door of 
 the dressing-room, the entrance of a brown girl, who stood before 
 her mistress with eyes downcast to the floor. 
 
 '•' So you have come back to your work," said Mistress Valmonte. 
 "Remember, girl, it is only by my kindness and pardon, that you 
 are here. Go to the dressing-room, and attend to your work. 
 Another delinquency will carry you back to the work-house for a 
 longer stay, and a severer discipline. Go ! " 
 
 The slave-girl glided into the dressing-room, and sat silently 
 down to, the table, opposite Hattie. Mistress Valmonte came in 
 soon after, to give directions concerning the lace flounces and 
 white dress, laid out during her absence, and passed out. Scilla 
 entered to attend to her mistress' noon siesta. 
 
 Thus left to themselves, Huttie passed her hand over the table 
 and gave her companion the benediction of a friendly pressure, 
 which was recognized by the lifting of silken lashes, and a sad 
 smile. 
 
 When the danger of discovery was probably lost in the sleep 
 of the mistress, Hattie touched her arm and whispered the one 
 word, — 
 
 " Work-house ? " 
 
 The brown girl nodded assent. 
 
35^ WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JLTNE. 
 
 " How long?" 
 
 " A week,"' was the scarcely breathed reply. 
 
 " What offence ? " 
 
 " Fell asleep over my sewing one day — had been awake nearly 
 all the night before — and plaited mistress' skirt wrong." 
 
 After a safe interval, Hattie asked under her breath, — 
 
 " Any punishment ? " 
 
 The girl left her seat, under pretence of picking up a lost spool, 
 bent near Hattie, and whispered. — 
 
 "Ten lashes." Then passing out of range of the glass door 
 pointed to its treacherous panes, shook her head, and laid her 
 finger upon her lips. Each plied the needle, occupied with her 
 own thought. 
 
 Hattie pondered doubtfully, — 
 
 " What would be the next step in her destiny ? How far would 
 Mistress Valmonte carry her cruel prerogative over her ? To the 
 work-house .'' She had been slapped in the face like a slave. 
 Might not the lash fall next.? " 
 
 She bethought herself of flying North. Alas, her funds left by 
 her mother, were in the possession of Colonel Ashland. He had 
 proved himself false to her interests in her first efforts at self- 
 help, he might again baffle her in the attempt to recover her 
 money. 
 
 Thus sat the two girls, equally friendless, wretched and con- 
 fused, each revolving the probabilities of release. 
 
 Towards evening, Hattie heard prancing hoofs, and a dash of 
 wheels at the door. Issy brought up a card. Mistress Valmonte 
 descended to the parlors, and was there met by the gallantry of 
 Major Measures, who handed her to the sofa, lavishing upon her 
 every compliment which the daughter of so noble a family as the 
 Paisley's could desire. 
 
 The lady received these subtle praises with appropriate grace, 
 for Major Measures was Carolina's proud son, and still a bachelor. 
 His manner at "St. Cloud" was renowned for epicurean enter- 
 tainments, and lavish hospitality to planters who loved the chase. 
 His dogs and horses were renowned in the sport, his parks and 
 forest were labyrinths of game. The names and number even of 
 his slaves u-ere scarcely known to him. He conferred privileges 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 359 
 
 upon them, exceeding law and custom — but woe be to the patrol 
 who dared to contravene his reckless kindness. The inevitable 
 "Marse IMeasures" pass was sufficient protection at all hours and 
 places. Ever gallantly courteous to Carolina's daughters, ever 
 received with their most winning welcome, neither his heart or his 
 hand had yet been ensnared. 
 
 The ostensible object of his call was to convey to Dr. Paisley 
 the regrets of the Rev. Warham, that his arrival must be delayed 
 until a late hour of the evening. He was on his way, had hunted 
 at " St. Cloud," the week previous ; was now at " Le Grand Palais," 
 unexpectecHy detained; all of which was listened to with a well- 
 feigned nonchalance, concealing the sweet satistaction she felt at 
 the certainty of welcoming their guest at all. 
 
 In a flattering and very genial manner he mentioned his meet- 
 ing on the street with the charming little Corrinne and the small 
 cadet, Ernestin, in charge of their young governess. 
 
 " I congratulate you. Mistress Valmonte," he remarked, " upon 
 your happy success in removing those lovely buds of promise 
 from the contact of an ignorant black nurse, to intelligent compan- 
 ionship. May I ask if their attendant is not of Southern blood, 
 from one of our high toned, but reduced families, who, through 
 necessity, has found content in the intercourse of this protecting 
 home ? " 
 
 The honor of Southern birth, even conferred by supposition 
 upon Hattie, fanned the embers of Mistress Valmonte's rage against 
 her pretty governess into a flame. Nerertheless, she was skilled 
 in handling the reins of her ire, and replied composedly. 
 
 " Far from it, I assure you, sir. Her mother was a Northern 
 governess in the family of Colonel Ashland. At his solicitation, I 
 admitted her to our family. I considered it a charity to do so. 
 It was all a mistake. I desire her dismissal, but as I cannot rec- 
 ommend her to my triends, (and I have relations with no others,) 
 I find myself quite perplexed." These last words were breathed 
 with a sigh, in the spirit of martyrdom. 
 
 Major Measures, the other actor in this parlor drama, who on 
 all occasions became the knightly defender of a lady in distress, 
 donned his armor, and couched his lance for the redress of the 
 goveress. He evolved from his sympathetic lips the important 
 
360 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 syllables, "hum, hum, hum," nodding his handsome head each 
 time ; apparently with the weight of searching thoughts, he threw 
 his earnest gaze upward into vacancy. At length he exclaimed, — 
 
 "Unpleasant! annoying! extremely, Mrs. Valmonte, would 
 you accept my services in this dilemma? " 
 
 "With many obligations, I assure you, sir, although my ultimate 
 object is removal. Her brusque assurance, the sure taint of 
 Northern blood, makes a much longer stay objectionable." 
 
 "May I ask, how is this assurance manifested? As she has 
 forfeited your recommendation, the points of this forfeiture must 
 be plain, in order to define her future position." 
 
 " In various ways. When I request her to bring the children 
 into the parlor for family enjoyment, she seats herself with them, 
 which is all very well w'ith ourselves only. But when the bell an- 
 nounces a call, she complacently remains. Our friends, all alike 
 strangers to her, beholding her thus occupying a place of eqeality, 
 extend to her the courtesies of society. This, I am obliged to 
 correct, by the mortifying explanation that their new acquaitance 
 is only my governess. 
 
 "She diffeis from my requirements, by her own reasonings, as 
 if she were my equal, and to the manor born. She does not 
 understand her place, and is resolved not to learn it ; she is incor- 
 rigible." 
 
 With this effort, the proud lady fell back upon the sofa, as if this 
 state of things was not to be borne. 
 
 " Thank you," he replied. " I think I have a clew to your re- 
 lief. I will call again with your permission, and make her ac- 
 quaintance, in order to secure another position suited to her 
 experience." 
 
 Doctor Paisley entered. Mistress Valmonte begged to 'be 
 excused, and retired to overlook the work of her dressmaker. 
 
 Evening brought the welcome guest, Rev. Fred Warham. Mis- 
 tress Valmonte's reception of him was entrancingly brilliant. 
 Odors from flower-vases perfumed the atmosphere of the saloons, 
 and the waiting silver tea equipage shone invitingly beneath the 
 tempered light of chandeliers. 
 
 At the table, there was no other to contest her honors or at- 
 tractions. Ah ! thought she in her chamber as she took the last 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 36 1 
 
 survey of herself in the mirror, and saw her marble face, without a 
 flesh tint on it, — 
 
 " All has happened so a-propos. The pink face of that childish 
 governess is banished forever. I rejoice that she staid in her room 
 to-day at dinner. I shall make no concession ; therefore she will 
 not presume to meet me again at dinners or teas." 
 
 In light spirits she fluttered down stairs, and ordered Hattie's 
 meals sent up that evening, and thereafter. 
 
 During the evening, a shade of despondency damped her hopes. 
 Rev. Fred's conversation being mostly held with her father ; remi- 
 niscences of the recent chase at " St. Cloud " and " Le Grand 
 Palais," were seemingly more fascinatmg to him than the charms 
 of his fair hostess. Yet this cloud had a silver lining — for when- 
 ever he addressed her, or replied, the homage she so earnestly 
 coveted returned to his voice and manner. Although she knew 
 this homage to be a part of the Southern code for her sex and 
 rank, she still construed his politeness as an uprising devotion to 
 herself. 
 
 He soon pleaded fatigue, and with many regrets, sought the 
 retirement of his chamber. There, he ordered his servant to place 
 writing materials upon the table, sat down by the open window to 
 inhale the sweet airs from the garden, and to indulge in the lux- 
 ury of undisturbed reflection. 
 
 The influence of sweet memories stole over his countenance. By 
 these were expelled every vestige of hauteur and ambitious pride. 
 He seated himself at the table, where the kneeling maiden held the 
 vase of flowers. He raised the statuette upon his palm, lifted the 
 crimson fuschias from her brown arm and shoulder, gazing with 
 wondering delight. 
 
 ''Enchanting! exquisite! a copy of my darling Minnie ! The 
 same bewildering curls, the same enchanting grace. Some other 
 has loved like me ! Ah 1 here is' the model of that soul's passion. 
 Speak to me. Sylph ! Fairy ! Nymph ! thou epitome of all my soul 
 adores ! Remove thy burden of malachite and pearls ! Rise upon 
 ihy beauteous limbs ! " 
 
 After this impassioned admiration, he soliloquized, — ■ 
 
 "No, no! Thou art stone! No love light is in thine eye, no 
 
362 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 kisses for the homesick wanderer are on thy lips ! I will write to 
 thy living ante-type. Be thou my inspiration ! " 
 He seized the pen. 
 
 " Charlestoity Paisley House. 
 
 " My darling Minnie, my beautiful, — How have the long days passed, 
 during my absence ? Has your silvery laugh ceased, because my step echoed 
 not your own ? Have the teardrops dimmed the bright gladness of those dark, 
 loving, dreamy eves, because your true love was not near to kiss them away? 
 Has ' Breezy Eluff ' seemed like a lonely prison, without its master ? Have you 
 feared that other endearments would lure my heart from yours? Did you im- 
 agine the attractions at 'Grand Palais ' would outweigh those of 'Breezy Bluff ?' 
 Nay, nay ! my lovely Sultana — none shall come between Fred Warham and 
 his soul's life. Silken nets will be spread in vain. The wealth of the Indies 
 cannot buy thee. Neither can the sighs or smiles of paler houris draw me from 
 my heart's' idolatry. 
 
 "Trust me, dear Minnie, a few more days, and I shall fold you in my arms 
 and smooth these cruel fears with fond endearments. In the words of Byron, 
 which I have often repeated to you at ' Breezy Bluff,' 
 
 •' ' Oh ! pardon that in crowds awhile, 
 
 I waste one thought I owe to thee. 
 And, self-condemn'd, appear to smile, 
 
 Unfaithful to thy memory ! 
 Nor deem that memory less dear, 
 
 That then I seem not to repine ; 
 I would not fool's should overhear 
 
 One sigh that should be wholly thine.'' 
 
 " Sweet thoughts of thee have hovered about me at dawn and eve, in the gay 
 saloon, and the hush of the forest When the hunter's horn has sounded, I have 
 wished it could summon thee, mounted, to my side, and that we might scour the 
 green depths of the dim woods together. I shall sleep to-night, while your pre- 
 cious image kneels upon my table, bearing a pearl-sleeted vase of flowers above 
 her lovely head. I shall see her still kneeling by the morning light, and while 
 I stay in Charleston she will plead for you though her exquisite beauty, the 
 
 counterpart of your own, 
 
 " Adieu, till death, 
 
 " Fred." 
 
 He sealed the letter, superscribed his own narne upon it, and 
 gave his footman orders to carry it to the early mail. 
 
 During Fred Warham's stay at the Parsleys, the doctor gave a 
 grand dinner to his guest. Among the invited, were ^Major Meas- 
 ures, and Colonel Ashland from '' Nightingafe Hall." The major 
 and Theresa Valmonte had not met since the interview relative to 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. ^6^ 
 
 the governess. Each was ignorant of the other's, motive, but both 
 were surprised at the unexpected success of their secret wishes. 
 
 Sounds of festivity floated up through the halls, but Hattie sat in 
 her lonely chamber. The man of all others, who should have in- 
 quired for her welfare, Colonel Ashland, made no mention of her 
 name. Major Measures accepted the invitation to dinner, with the 
 one sole thought of Hattie Hudson. He communicated the result 
 of his efforts to IMistress Valmonte. He had found a family who 
 could give her governess a small salary, and the change would be 
 made immediately. 
 
 " An interview is necessary this evening/' he said, " as I am about 
 to leave Charleston, and would like to see the daughter of Doctor 
 Paisley freed from this vulgar arrogance." 
 
 Mistress Valmonte preferred that he should meet Hattie in a 
 private library on the second floor, and further opened the way by 
 saying that she had given " the girl " a dismissal on the strength of 
 his aid, and had informed her that a gentleman friend of the doc- 
 tor's would provide another place. 
 
 Scilla was dispatched with the message to Hattie. The distin- 
 guished and caressed hostess returned to her sparkling fire-fly 
 manner in the parlors, casting away further thoughts of the mother- 
 less Hattie, or of the possible consequences of placing her destiny 
 at the disposal of strangers. 
 
 She bade adieu this night to the sombre hues of mourning, and 
 for the first time since her arrival from abroad appeared in rich 
 laces and pearls. She floated through the dances, airily as thistle 
 down careering on the breeze. She promenaded on the arm of the 
 Rev. Fred, lavishing upon him languishing smiles, while he in re- 
 turn bestowed upon her refined and ceremonious tokens of regard. 
 This Fred performed with the natural exactness of a somnambulist, 
 who walks and talks in sleep, really careless of her designs, and 
 insensible to impressions ; for, ever between them, walked or sat 
 his beloved, and equally graceful brown Minnie. 
 
 The ever-green subject of the " Southern Institution," its relations 
 to their prosperity, Calhoun's dogmas, the views of the North, -ha- 
 tred to abolitionists, and defiant threats against every form of oppo- 
 sition to Southern will, received their usual meed of attention. 
 
 The great event of the occasion was the inspection of a section 
 
364 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 of rope, about four inches in length, possessed by Doctor Paisley. 
 This fragment was enclosed in a gold-bound glass case, preserved 
 as a precious relic. 
 
 " This," said Doctor Paisle}^ standing in the midst of an ad- 
 miring circle, " is a part of the rope by which Garrison was dragged 
 through the streets of Boston, by a party of freedom-loving citizens, 
 in defence of Southern rights embodied in the Constitution. I was 
 in Boston at the time. I could not refrain from participating in 
 the patriotism surging through the streets. Impelled by enthu- 
 siasm in our cause, I stepped from the pavement, placed my hand 
 upon the rope, and assisted. In memory of that day, I secretly cut 
 away this fragment. It is one of vix^ priceless t?'easu7'es /^^ 
 
 It passed about among the throng. Such was the stimulus to 
 patriotic fervor, that it amounted to murderous intent. 
 
 " It should have been drawn about Garrison's neck," said one. 
 
 " A few fanatical heads would be valuable relics ! " said 
 another. 
 
 " There is a head in New York," said a third, " which should 
 surmount the gate at the entrance to Calhoun's estate ! " 
 
 " We could give him no more fitting monument of our gratitude," 
 ejaculated several. 
 
 Purses of various values were pledged at the moment, for the 
 securing this unique testimonial to Calhoun. 
 
 " And I will give my pearls," added Theresa Valmonte. 
 
 *' And I my diamonds," promised Mrs. Chancellor Mowndes 
 excitedly, " if beneath this head there be inscribed, ' Arthur 
 Tappan.' " 
 
 " Hold ! ladies, I pray," begged Honorable Mr. Fairland. 
 " Your self-sacrifice puts us to the blush. Allow me to offer the 
 half of my plantations in your stead." 
 
 Hattie timidly entered the library, and found time to reassure 
 herself before the entrance of Major Measures. She dreaded the 
 interview, for she almost doubted all human kind. However, re- 
 moval was imperative, and no other helping hand was extended but 
 this, her street acquaintance. 
 
 Young hope prompted, " You must go, it matters little where, 
 so you escape the arrogant contempt of caste in this mistaken 
 refuge." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 365 
 
 The door opened slowly. Major Measures bowed himself 
 respectfully into the library. His courtesy awakened Hattie's self- 
 respect, and she gave him a lady-like welcome. Her knowledge of 
 society caused her to observe directly that he extended to herself 
 the same deference as he would have done to Mistress Valmonte. 
 Coldness and repugnance vanished. After a few agreeable phrases 
 of introduction, he began, — 
 
 " I beg pardon, Miss Hudson, for this intrusion. I have been 
 informed by your friend in this family, that you seek another loca- 
 tion." 
 
 " I desire a change, sir." 
 
 " May I ask if you have yet determined where ? " 
 
 " No sir. I have very few acquaintances." 
 
 "Then I may have the pleasure of aiding you to re-establish 
 yourself at any time you may prefer. There is a family nearly a 
 day's ride from the city, which requires your immediate services. 
 Your duties will be light. There will be no lady on the plantation 
 superior to yourself. The household department will require your 
 supervision ; but there are a number of competent servants, that 
 will only need to know that your eye is upon them." 
 
 Pleased that she should not be forced into a state of peonage, 
 gratitude covered her hopeful face with blushes. She remarked, — 
 
 " My mother occupied a similar position for some years. What 
 are the ages of the children ? " 
 
 " There are none in the house at present. You know. Miss 
 Hudson, the Southerner travels much during the summer months. 
 Whenever they may be placed under your charge, I will pledge you 
 their affectionate regards." 
 
 " Is that part of the country healthy ? " 
 
 "Entirely so. The house is situated upon the skirts of extensive 
 pine forest, and the land is high." 
 
 " Is there a piano in the house, sir .? " 
 
 "There will be soon, Miss Hudson; the master contemplates a 
 purchase. There are saddle-horses in the stable, and a footman at 
 your orders." 
 
 With renewed blushes, and modest hesitation, she thanked him 
 earnestly for his kind interest in securing for her a situation so 
 happily combining all she could have asked. 
 
366 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " It is a slight favor, young lady. I am intimate in the family, 
 and know what will be satisfactory. I am happy in doing a favor 
 for them as well as for yourself." 
 
 Alas ! the depth and meaning of that sentence. It took Hattie 
 Hudson a lifetime to reward. 
 
 Colonel Measures rose. The very gentlest of manhood's emo- 
 tions colored his manner, as he proffered his hand at leaving and 
 said, — 
 
 " So, Miss Hudson, you accept." 
 
 Hattie laid her finger tips upon his hand. Looking at the floor, 
 she replied, — 
 
 " With much pleasure, sir." 
 
 " Will you be ready at eight o'clock on the morning of the ensu- 
 ing Monday .? Shall the carriage await you at that hour?" 
 
 " I will be ready when it pleases you, sir." 
 
 There was a moment's silence ; yet he did not relinquish the 
 finger tips that still rested in his own. Hattie raised her question- 
 ing face. 
 
 His eyes were filled with sympathetic tenderness, the very ten- 
 derness her trampled life had so pined for, the very look her 
 mother and Mauma Rose sometimes gave her. Found again, in- 
 stantaneously it warmed her whole being, and wrapped her like a 
 garment. 
 
 "Your pleasure is mine," he said. "Good night." 
 
 While Hattie listened, his descending steps on the stairway 
 melted into the happy confusion below. 
 
 That Sabbath was marked "golden." in the calender of Theresa 
 Valmonte. Doctor Paisley's carriage conveyed to the church Rev. 
 Fred, who was to feed his hearers with the bread of life ; and her- 
 self, who was to listen and adore. Robed in the silk of amethystic 
 gray, the elaborate toilet completed by bonnet, gloves and shawl 
 of white, for which she had mortgaged her brother Ishmael, she 
 moved solemnly up the aisle, sank into the Paisley cushioned pew, 
 and bent her head devoutly, as if for the divine benediction upon 
 the deed of the past week. But reall}^ it was for the purpose of 
 controlling agitation ; for in thus suddenly casting aside the long- 
 worn weeds, she was facing the censure of a revered custom, that 
 of perpetual widowhood. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 367 
 
 Fred Warham, robed in sacred vestments, appeared with in- 
 creased attractions to the stainless spirit of the devotional Theresa. 
 His text, taken from Solomon's Songs ; " Thou art all fair, my 
 love ; there is no spot in thee," stirred a whirl of sweet hopes. 
 She seized upon it as a veiled declaration of his unspoken love for 
 her. She clung to its flattering sentiment, as one fainting grasps 
 the vinaigrette. Nevertheless, Rev. Warham lifted up holy hands, 
 and magnified the church according to Solomon's best intentions. 
 
 He constructed before his hearers, a church that was fair and 
 without spot, purer than a palace of ivory and alabaster. He fes- 
 tooned her gateways, and garlanded her columns with the flowers of 
 a tropical rhetoric. His sermon was a work of art, to which few 
 could attain ; and the congregation departed, grieving that the 
 walls of Zion could not retain the Rev. Fred upon its towers ; that 
 talents so brilliant should be wasted in a sportsman's career. 
 
 The young clergyman held his preaching Sabbaths sanctified to 
 the end. Therefore in harmony with his practice, he sat with The- 
 resa and her father in the still parlors, speaking of churches and 
 divines, thus mercilessly feeding the flame which he perceived 
 burning for him in Theresa's soul. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE jail, or the rude building which answered for a jail, was 
 surrounded by a noisy mob. It was a gala day for St. Louis. 
 A day in which Southern Rights, Southern Policy and Southern 
 Religion, could be emblazoned by the alto relivo of definite action, 
 — of action which all the rest of the world, though a fool, might 
 read and understand ; action upon repeated threats of "cold steel, 
 burning at the stake, scourgings, hangings, imprisonments," and 
 all other modes of torture for the conscientious Northerner, who 
 dared to assert that slavery was a sin, or was not a God-given insti- 
 tution, were to take body and form. 
 
 Carriages began to arrive, containing the freeholders, the 
 wealthy, the respectable citizen. The meagre, the plump, the cor- 
 
368 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 pulent, the rubicund, the white-haired, the impetuous youth, the 
 fire-eater, the white-cravated clergyman, were there to give tone to 
 the affair in hand. 
 
 The discretion of freeholders was to take the place of law and 
 justice ; a motley collection prowled around the miserable prison 
 holding their prey. Coachmen turned equipages aside, and sat 
 waiting on their boxes. The jailer, a pliant tool of power, neither 
 able to read nor write, clad in rent, slovenly garmens, and a half- 
 rimless straw hat, beneath which his coarse, frowzy hair straggled 
 about his stolid face, stood ready at the chain and padlock of the 
 old door. 
 
 The arrival of the respectable freeholders called forth oaths, 
 cheers and curses from the rabid crew awaiting them. They cried 
 out for blood. Nothing less would satisfy their debased subser- 
 viency to the distinguished oligarchy of gentlemen present. 
 
 One of the leading class, of middle age, and high bred, bulky 
 figure, closely followed by his black footman, stepped upon the 
 horse-block near, waved his gloved hand to the ranting mob, and 
 demanded silence. He wore the air of a monarch inflated with 
 hereditary pride. 
 
 In the crowd, obedience was instinctive. The gentleman was 
 well known as the richest slave-holder in the city, the owner of the 
 fastest horses and the oldest liquors, as the hardest master, as the 
 most profane and leading member of the richest church. 
 
 " Bring out the infernal thieves ! " he roared to the jailor. The 
 key turned, the chain rattled, the rickety door scraped backwards 
 on the filthy floor. Out into the sunlight, emerged two men ; one, 
 tall and feeble, dressed in a coarse suit of butternut; the other, 
 younger, dressed in fashion and taste. The garments of both bore 
 marks of violent struggles, being grossly soiled, spattered with mud 
 and begrimmed with dust. 
 
 " Advance before your judge and jury, ye thieves ! ye disturbers 
 of our peace ! " thundered from the horse-block. 
 
 Some distance intervened between the jail door and the rostrum, 
 around which citizens of influence were assembled. 
 
 The prisoners were hand-cuffed so closely that their wrists were 
 painfully swollen ; as they moved forward through the shrieking 
 mob, it appeared doubtful whether they would reach the august fo- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 369 
 
 rum, alive. Kicks and cuffs assailed them on every side. Boys 
 and men in rags spit upon tlieir faces. Shouts of " Hang them ! ' 
 " Burn the cussed pilgrims ! " " Felony and death ! " assailed their 
 progress to the dismal block. " 
 
 This autocrat of the mob again commanded silence and was 
 again obeyed. He addressed the victims consequentially, mean- 
 while dallying complacently with his fob-chain and seals, remov- 
 ing his smoking Havana from his lips, between the fingers of his 
 ungloved hand. 
 
 " You miscreants, who now stand before us, know as well, and 
 better than we, of what crimes you are accused. In the second 
 place you are partizans of those Northern intriguers and agitators, 
 who interfere with our domestic safety, under the canting hypocriti- 
 cal pretensions of levelling the superior white race to one infernal 
 brotherhood with Niggers, Indians, Chinese or any other barbarous 
 foreign progeny. In the third count, you are suspected of decoying 
 away from their owners, and this State, three slaves j two prime, 
 stout, black fellows, and a bright colored wench, whom, doubtless, 
 you would call w^hite. You have thus stolen property to the amount 
 of three thousand dollars. The proper punishment for these dia- 
 bolical purposes will soon be decided. Your nefarious guilt is suf- 
 ficiently proven by your escape from the ofiicers at Alton. That 
 city hides no fugitives ; you have been brought back for justice." 
 
 The younger, on whose weary face yet rested some hope, raised 
 his manacled hands to his forehead, wiped the drops of agony 
 away, cleared his voice, looked up to the frowning speaker, and out 
 upon the crowd. 
 
 "Gentlemen," he said, "I claim the right of an American Free- 
 man ; the liberty of speech, to show you why this proceeding should 
 go no farther." 
 
 " Defiant braggart, silence ! you are in Missouri ! Submission 
 and Death is the legal penalty for abolition partizans ! " 
 
 Hope was already extinguished in the pale features of the older 
 one ; and now, the hitherto untamed eyes of the younger, who had 
 so nobly demanded his American birthright, fell to the ground. 
 Incredulous hope changed to diwib despair. 
 
 He of the tribune, turned to the respectable citizens about him 
 and asked for a decision of their fate. Ferocious demands poured 
 
SJO WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 forth like rattling hail, both from the base-born and influential sec- 
 tions of the rioters. 
 
 " Hanging ! " " Whipping ! " " Hemp ! " " The lash ! " " The 
 ropes end ! " "Let 'em swing ! " "No, two hundred lashes ! " and 
 oaths in every conceivable phase of the English tongue, were so 
 commingled that he of the horse-block was like a rudderless keel 
 borne down by the swoop of a typhoon. It was necessary to take 
 a vote by actual count. 
 
 " Gentlemen," he cried, extending his gloved hand again, over 
 their heads " Gentlemen, please divide, that there may be no mis- 
 take as to sentiment Gentlemen in favor of hanging, on the right! 
 Gentlemen in favor of whipping, on the left ! " 
 
 Great was the hurry-scurry in passing from side to side. Servants 
 in the mc/ee, following close upon the heels of their masters, seemed 
 to have been suddenly dowered with the gift of franchise. 
 
 The stormy curses of the advocates of either sentence, swelled 
 into the habitual ribald profanity of the lower mob, as they swayed 
 oif the ground of the higher. 
 
 The teller passed through. He announced twent3Mhree, on the 
 right, for hanging ; and thirty-eight, on the left, for whipping. 
 
 The place for execution of sentence was /zc/^ miles from town, in 
 a grove. The voice from the horse-block gave concluding orders 
 for the moving of the procession. 
 
 " Officers will mount and guard the prisoners to the place desig- 
 nated. Gentlemen will please enter carriages and repair thither, 
 immediately." 
 
 There were various instruments of torture in the old jail, for 
 St. Louis was fully up with her sister Southern cities. Among 
 these, were the enormous long, black whip, which coiled like a ser- 
 pent, and gashed the human form with greedy voracity. There 
 was the cat, with knotted lashes, which fell upon the naked body, 
 like a shower of fire. There was the paddle, a narrow board per- 
 forated with holes w^hich bruised and blistered, scarcely breaking 
 the skin. There was the cowhide, braided with fine wire which 
 tore and hetchelled its gory way. There was also the heavy leather 
 strap, giving the combined effect of paddle and lash. This resem- 
 bled the Russian knout, and w-as the one selected for this occa- 
 sion. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 37 1 
 
 Several of these straps, heavy as harness traces, with a couple of 
 black whips and some coils of rope, were thrown by the jailer 
 under the coachman's boxes. 
 
 The two prisoners were compelled to march between the 
 mounted guards. They were followed, on foot, by the vulgar, 
 blood-thirsty herd around the jail, which swelled to twice its howl- 
 ing proportions along the route to the grove. 
 
 The elegant carriages and prancing horses of the clergy, and the 
 aristocratic and respectable citizens, led the van. 
 
 The day was entrancing. The sky of transparent blue, with the 
 exception of a few w^hite, downy masses, sailing slowly over the 
 unhallowed sight, like celestial spirits, wondering at man's inhu- 
 manity to man. 
 
 Towards the blue vault, the older prisoner frequently raised his 
 despairing face ; a few tears gathered and rolled upon his painful 
 and purple hands. 
 
 In the grove, two trees were soon selected. The men were 
 about to be stripped, when the elder raised his manacles and 
 said, — 
 
 " Men of Missouri, hear me ! We are brothers from New 
 England, honest tillers of the soil of our fathers — " 
 
 " A curse upon your fathers !" ejaculated Colonel Ashland, who 
 had ridden with his host to the grove and now stood near them, 
 " and a curse upon the laborers of the North." Infuriated, he con- 
 tinued, " South Carolina's governer says, ' they are incapable of 
 understanding or enjoying freedom ; and that free laborers must 
 be reduced to slavery, or the la\v3 cannot be maintained.' This is 
 McDuffie's opinion ; the legislature concurs. If you ever live to 
 get out of this alive^ do not go to my State, with your simhurned, 
 77iulatto face and hands, or you may expect to be sold at auction 
 to the highest bidder. Take the nigger's lash to-day; that will 
 answer for the present." 
 
 The two men were stripped by slaves, and bound each to a tree. 
 The gray-haired physician, who had so tenderly administered to 
 Madame Lambelle, drew near, in order to test their fainting pulses 
 from time to time ; and to extend the imperiling ordeal to the 
 utmost verge of their endurance. 
 
 The influential church-going citizens, sixty in number, arranged 
 
372 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 themselves in a line, and moved slowly on. Each took the whip or 
 strap in turn, and gave two blows as he passed, on the naked backs 
 of their victims. 
 
 Long, piercing screams of agony rang up among the leafy arches, 
 and wandered through the sunny glades. That was music to- the 
 savage horde. The sickening thud of stroke after stroke, fell upon 
 the ear with military precision. At length their cries ceased ; dull, 
 heavy groans succeeded. 
 
 Fiendish eyes were glutted with the sight of Northern blood. 
 Red streams dripped from the torn backs of both the helpless men, 
 in a pool at their feet. The gentlemen whippers paused from 
 fatigue, and almost satiety. The doctor advanced and made an 
 examination of each. One hundred lashes had been given, and life 
 still remained. 
 
 Footmen brought flasks of brandy from the carriages, for the 
 gentlemen, while the lower rabble drank from bottles in their 
 pockets. Cigars and pipes were lighted. A warm, social glow 
 of satisfaction pervaded the grove. Southern honor was receiving 
 vindication. 
 
 Two more bloody stones were ready to be cast upon the un- 
 sightly cairns of State Rights, already overtopping arsenels, church 
 edifices, and even the dome of the National Capitol. 
 
 By the medical opinion of the doctor, the elder was unbound 
 from the tree and laid senseless upon the leaves and grass hard by. 
 The shock of measured lashes might drive out the fluttering soul 
 from the mangled body. 
 
 The barbarous crew howled for more blood, and fifty lashes 
 more for the younger prisoner were granted to their rapacity. 
 
 The gentlemen had been refreshed, and the line was again 
 formed. Colonel Ashland was in this column as in the first, that, 
 as he said, " he might give the damned Yankees a taste of South 
 Carolina." Clergymen were in this round, and went back to their 
 studies with blood spatters sealing their loyalty to Moses and the 
 Constitution. 
 
 At last, all was over ; the two mangled and bloody bodies were 
 again hand-cuffed, thrown into a mule cart, and dragged back 
 more dead than alive, to the jail in the city. 
 
 One charity was extended to them. They had permission to 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 373 
 
 remain in the State one week under the surveillance of the half- 
 human jailer, and to have the advice of a physician, if they should 
 defray their own expenses. . . 
 
 The next day a public meeting was held of the leadmg citizens. 
 The concourse was unprecedented. The rostrum was festooned 
 with the "Stars and Stripes." From a line stretched across the 
 street, our National banner waved over the happy throng, giving 
 eclat to the success of the previous day. Beauty and fashion lent 
 brilliancy to the occasion. 
 
 General Terreceine filled the honorable seat of chairman, with 
 an inposing array of secretaries and vice-presidents. Among the 
 speakers were numbered the South Carolinians. 
 
 The ground of Southern complaint was reviewed. The growing 
 evil of Fanaticism ; interference with social relations ; the state of 
 Northern, Western and Southern cities ; and how far the controll- 
 ing influence of Southern interests moulded their general senti- 
 ment — were forcibly presented and debated. 
 
 The course of future action was resolved upon. Resolutions in 
 Congress and out of it; salutary warnings to agitators, by death 
 or imprisonment — or as warm a welcome as was given to the 
 two thieves in the grove, were considered. 
 
 At this juncture, the director and judge in the "whipping ' was 
 called to the stand. In a high flight of oratory he recounted the 
 harrowing particulars and ultimate success. Red in the face, and 
 covered with perspiration, he was overwhelmed with tumultuous 
 cheers. The audience rose in his honor. Fair ladies waved lace 
 handkerchiefs, dispensed sweet smiles, and nodded congratulations 
 to friends in various parts of the room. 
 
 Quiet again restored, an Alabamian, in a heated speech, fiercely 
 deprecated the issue of seditious matter. Printing presses came 
 under ban. Presses and offices should be demolished. 
 
 He extolled the course of Alabama, Kentucky and the city of 
 Cincinnati, towards the recreant Southerner, J. G. Birney. _ He re- 
 lated the manner in which the disseminator of his doctrines had 
 been silenced. Called upon all Southerners to imitate the planters 
 of Danville, who held a mass meeting and afterward wrote Mr. 
 Birney to beware of issuing the first number of his insurrectionary 
 sheet,' villainously styled "The Philanthropist." 
 
374 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "J. G. Birney," he said, "was driven out by the strong will of 
 the people. He took his press to a Free State — to Cincinnati. 
 He dare not set a type there. True to their Constitutional Con- 
 vention, the citizens would not allow him to tamper with national 
 Institutions. Thus was he driven out again to the Quakers at 
 New Richmond for a short rest. Thence, returning to Cincinnati 
 to make another venture, when, true in action as in thought, the 
 'gentlemen of property and standing' in that city, resolv^ed to sup- 
 press him and his sheet, 7'ight or wrofig, peaceably or forcibly^ there- 
 fore it was done. The printing press of the infatuated reprobate 
 was hurled to the bottom of the Ohio." 
 
 Long and loud cheering was renewed. 
 
 The chairman next had the pleasure of introducing Major Den- 
 telle of Georgia. His theme was the discipline which should 
 impend over the heads of direlect sons of the South, those born to 
 the patrimony of slavery, who should so far forget ancestral blood 
 and moral obligations, as to join the ranks of the hard-fisted 
 laborers and fanatics of the North. His opinion was, that *' they 
 should receive naught but ignominy and contempt." That the 
 names of such men should be expunged from the roll of every 
 Southern office of emolument and Southern honor ; that they 
 should be expelled from official boards \ commercial and charita- 
 ble, or educational. 
 
 Cries of " Hear ! hear ! hear ! " 
 
 " Do in every case as Alabama did, when the superior court 
 struck from the roll of her attorneys practicing at her bar, the 
 odious name of Birney. They should be driven from the South 
 with the mark of Cain upon them to seek refuge and a name else- 
 where, among the base-born of their own ilk. Never the chiv- 
 alrous blood of knightly ages coursed in their veins. Let the vam- 
 pires go out ; they are notof us." 
 
 " Drive them out ! " " The vampire blood ! " " Drive them 
 out ! " " Expunge ! " " Expel ! " encouraged the Georgian on 
 every side. 
 
 The ladies approved ; the festooned flags even tugged loyally at 
 their fastenings, in the patriotic breeze. Evidently, other sugges- 
 tions weighed upon the speaker's mind, for he still remained stand- 
 ing, bowing and smiling amid the agreeable tempest. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 375 
 
 General Terreceine, perceiving the dilemma, rose from his offi- 
 cial chair, thanked the assembly for their enthusiasm, and made a 
 complimentary request that they would listen farther. The dis- 
 tinguished gentlemen before them represented a State which had 
 shown the valuable quality of her blood and pluck as far back as 
 the outburst of American Independence, and the framing of the 
 Constitution. 
 
 " The hand writing of Georgia and South Carolina," he said 
 "still glowed in flaming characters on the face of that charter of 
 Southern liberties. By their inflexible resistance to the eleven 
 other States, and by their adamantine refusal to confederate, unless 
 upon terms which should foster the growth of slavery, they secured 
 to themselves, to us, and to our posterity, the franchise of three-fifths 
 of the black chattels we merchandise. This singular franchise is 
 under our control, as you well know, gentlemen. This negro sif- 
 frage^ i?i the hands of the 7naster^ is the masked battery of our civil de- 
 fense. 
 
 " Georgia and South Carolina, secured also twenty years of the 
 African slave trade, and by the former provisions, three ffths of 
 the living cargo of every slaver landed on our shores, became 
 sturdy suffrage plants in our political nursery, in casting votes, 
 opposed with equal quality and force, to as many suffrages of 
 boasted Northern intelligence. They secured also, the rendition 
 of our slave property by the Free States, whenever it may escape 
 thereto. Whatever, therefore, secured the stability of slavery in 
 the Constitution, was mainly graven there by the inexorable de- 
 mands of Georgia and South Carolina, by forcing compromises 
 and concessions from the shrinking and cowardly religious senti- 
 ment of the other States." 
 
 Instead of restoring quiet, the chairman's short address called 
 up enthusiasm to its highest pitch. They came to their feet, en 
 masse, as if in the very presence of the genius of Southern liberty. 
 Rounds of applause within and without, where the words of Gen- 
 eral Terreceine had been heard, testified to the hearty apprecia- 
 tion of the two States, which had so cunningly moulded Southern 
 destiny. 
 
 They demanded Dentelle ; they would have borne him in triumph 
 
376 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 on their shoulders ; they would have drawn his carriage to the 
 house of his host. 
 
 Dentelle, repressing the marks of especial favor, remained con- 
 stantly bowing acknowledgment. 
 
 The desired calm was greatly assisted by a new arrival within the 
 hall. A lady of elegant presence leaning on the arm of the Rev. 
 Warham, a stranger also, and accompanied by Madame Terreceine, 
 moved across the crowded floor, to one of the many proffered seats. 
 A chivalrous greeting of tender and delicate admiration met her 
 every step. 
 
 Dentelle proffered his deepest reverence as madame passed. 
 Her companions appeared wholly engrossed in the care of their 
 precious charge, a little whiter, a trifle more ethereal, but wearing 
 the same pure, noble, and enchanting air as before. 
 
 " What a singular, but exquisite taste that lady displays," said 
 one lady to another. 
 
 " She has the choice of a princess," was the reply. 
 
 Zafhri wore a brocade silk of the same pale wheaten color of her 
 hair, sprinkled over with oak leases wrought in brilliant, shaded, 
 autumnal hues, over which drifted the frost-work of an embroidered 
 white lace shawl. Her bonnet, a marvel of taste, was of white Ital- 
 ian straw, surrounded with a wreath of oak leaves of the same hue 
 of her dress, with a small bunch of leaves and acorns dropping to 
 her shoulder, like a plume. 
 
 The curiosity and interest of the assembly in the fair stranger, 
 for a time, calmed excited passion. 
 
 The committee, which had been appointed to draft resolutions, 
 returned. Colonel Ashland was among the number. In honor of 
 the leadership of South Carolina, he was made chairman. This 
 complimentary position he filled with eclat^ by shaping and insist- 
 ing upon the third resolution. 
 
 The first half of the second resolution is sufficient to be given 
 here. 
 
 Second. ^''Resolved, That the right of free discussion and freedom 
 of speech, exists under the Constitution ; but that, being a conven- 
 tional reservation made by the people in their sovereign capacity, 
 does not imply a moral right on the part of the abolitionists to 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 377 
 
 freely discuss the subject of slavery, either orally or throttgh the 
 medium of the press. ''^ 
 
 Third. " Resolved^ That we consider the course pursued by the 
 abolitionists as one calculated to paralyze every social tie by which 
 we are now united to our fellow man, and that, if persisted in, it 
 must eventually be the cause of the disseverment of these United 
 States ; and that the doctrine of amalgamation is peculiarly ba?ieful 
 to the interests and happiness of society. The union of black and 
 white, in a moral point of view, we consider as the most preposterous 
 and impudent doctri?te advanced by the infatuated abolitionist, as 
 repugnant to judgment and science as it is degrading to the feel- 
 ings of all sensitive minds ; as destructive to the intellect of after 
 generations, as the advancement of science and literature has con- 
 tributed to the improvement of our own. In short, its practice 
 would reduce the high intellectual standard of the American mind 
 to a level with the Hottentot ; and the United States, now second to 
 no nation on earth, would, in a few years, be what Europe was in 
 the darkest ages." 
 
 Fourth. '■'• Resolved^ That the Sacred "Writings furnish abundant 
 evidence of the existence of slavery from the earliest periods. The 
 patriarchs and prophets possessed slaves ; our Savior recognized 
 the relation between master and slave, and deprecated it not ; 
 hence, we know that he did not condemn that relation. On the 
 contrary, his disciples, in all countries, designated their respective 
 duties to each other." 
 
 " Therefore, resolved. That we consider slavery as it now exists 
 in the United States as sanctioned by the Sacred Scriptures." 
 
 These resolutions were submitted to the audience, and passed by 
 acclamation. It will be seen that they were but the reiteration of 
 general private sentiment, the embodiment of social conversation 
 in the evening saloon, in the formal call, at the conventional dinner, 
 on the promenade, in the hotel, the family, the shop, and wherever 
 men do congregate. But private sentiment in the form of public res- 
 olutions, becomes official. The presses which should publish them to 
 the world, were not to be cast into the waters of the Mississippi or 
 Ohio. So they went forth on the wings of the morrow, throughout 
 the land. 
 
378 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Many a congratulation did Colonel Ashland receive for the wis- 
 dom and truth of the tJiird resolve. The ladies, especially, regarded 
 him as the knight of much domestic affliction. Undoubtedly, blue 
 blood animated his perceptions ; undoubtedly, a hereditary moral 
 sense moved the South Carolinian to warn his countrymen against 
 reducing " the high intellectual standard of Atnerican 7tiind to a level 
 with the Hottentot I " 
 
 Madame Lambelle expressed pleasure in being able to witness 
 the proceedings, and declared, — 
 
 *'The resolutions evinced a clear understanding of the situation ; 
 their adaptation to the times was most remarkable ! " 
 
 In passing out, she rallied General Terreceine's partiality to 
 Georgia and South Carolina, and yet she affirmed that " every 
 word of his eulogium was charmingly chosen ; they would remain 
 forever, diamond points of truth." 
 
 She added archly at parting, — 
 
 " Ah 1 why am /not a Carolinian, also ? " 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 RICHARD and Fanny were on their way to West Elms, in x. 
 freshness of a summer morning. A dreamy quiet rested on 
 the woods and fields. The ranges of hills and mountains that 
 stretched around the horizon, were veiled in a faint violet haze ; 
 their lovely serenity was reflected from the faces of both travelers. 
 Profound content and curiosity hovered about the short ears of the 
 dappled gray, as he took his own gait, walking up the hill, trotting 
 off briskly, or halting in the cool patches of shade. 
 - A few miles ride from Alderbank showed them the roofs and 
 spires of East Elms. The town, crowning the highlands, and 
 bathed in sunshine, overlooked a misty valley. Beyond the fur- 
 ther shore of a shining river, the lowlands rolled out into velvety 
 meadows, well-fenced farms, dotted with white, cosy houses, and 
 tufted with orchards. 
 
 It was a scene to rivet attention and challenge admiration. Two 
 mountain peaks raised their majestic shoulders in the gray distance 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 379 
 
 of the north, and the broad, shining river, spun to a golden thread 
 among rolling hills and vales, lost itself in a soft perspective on the 
 south. Both brother and sister felt the sweet spell which Nature 
 throws so deftly over spirits in harmony with her moods. 
 
 Although the scenes were familiar, they received a glad recogni- 
 tion. The chaise drew up under the shade of a tree, whose 
 branches offered no obstruction to the view. 
 
 "Let us sit awhile, Fanny," said Richard, "and take a fresh 
 baptism of the grandeur, serenity and beauty about us. Such 
 scenes inspire ^ a power of thought, and a loftiness of sentiment' 
 that are scarcely to be derived from any other source, in this work- 
 day world of ours." 
 
 " No truer words were ever spoken, Richard : and in halting 
 here, you have anticipated my unexpressed desire. Nature holds 
 a mystic sway over the emotions. Whenever I contemplate this, 
 or similar scenes, a deep joy invades my whole being. A calm 
 tide of peace flows gently, over every selfish and malignant feeling. 
 I am speechless with rapture ; my aspirations seem raised above 
 groveling things, and poise themselves on heroic wings." 
 
 " What harm can come of that, Fanny ? " 
 
 " I am not sure, Richard. To be a dreamer, or weak enthusiast, 
 may not be termed consistent with a Christian character." 
 
 '' Your doubts will bear criticism, not your enthusiam, dear sis- 
 ter. A strong love of Nature — a susceptibility of being moved in 
 its majestic presence, is a fine foundation for a Christian character. 
 Bryant says of Him who created Nature, — 
 
 ' Thou hast not left 
 Thyself without a witness, in these shades 
 • Of thy perfections. Grandeur, strength and grace. 
 Are here to speak of Thee,' 
 
 " Furthermore, he says, — 
 
 The groves Were God's first temples. Ere man learned 
 
 To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, 
 
 And Spread the roof above them, — ere he framed 
 
 The lofty vault, to gather and roll back 
 
 The sound of anthems. — in the darkling wood, 
 
 Amid the cool and silence, he knelt down 
 
 And offered to the Mightiest, solemn thanks 
 
 And supplication.' 
 
380 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " Now Fanny, mark the reason why. 
 
 ' For his simple heart 
 Might not resist the sacred influences, 
 That, from the stilly twilight of the place. 
 And from the gray, old trunks, that high in heaven," 
 Mingled their mossy boughs, and from the sound 
 Of the invisible breath, that swayed at once 
 All their green tops, stole over him, and bow'd 
 His spirit with the thought of boundless power 
 And inaccessible majest\'. Ah ! why 
 Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect 
 God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore 
 Only among the crowd, and under roofs 
 That our frail hands have raised ? ' " 
 
 " How beautiful ! " exclaimed Fanny. " What an antidote to 
 worldliness is the simple hearing of these words. Yet how much 
 more elevating would be the holy tranquility of the reality. The 
 scenes of Nature seem to me conducive to the purest devotion the 
 heart can offer." 
 
 "Doubtless it is the purest devotion one can offer to the great 
 Creator, in the midst of His works, as sweet to Him as the breath 
 of an infant to its mother. To a lively imagination and poetical 
 fancy, this worship is almost spontaneous. But I imagine it is not 
 the grandest or most acceptable devotion that can be offered to 
 the great Searcher of hearts." 
 
 *' Explain this grandest and most acceptable devotion, Richard." 
 
 " It is that which requires an effort of the will. It is the rising 
 above the allurements of social position, above the blandishments 
 of selfish affections, the trampling under foot the false ideas and 
 the false customs of communities, to advocate truth, eternal truth, 
 even to the martyrdom of all one holds dear on earth. To you 
 and me Fanny, this truth is being gradually revealed. It is this 
 devotion which you are earnestly seeking after ; and for which your 
 soul thirsts." 
 
 " Shall I ever attain to the honor of a martyr ? " 
 
 Her eyes glowed with incipient heroism. 
 
 " Probably not at the burning stake, my sister ; but in due time, 
 when you shall be held responsible for your sentiments and utter- 
 ances, you will find at the hands of debased, antiquated and hardened 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 38 1 
 
 public opinion, sufficient martyrdom:' He continued. " Foster, then, 
 this ardent love for Nature, and the pure devotion it inspires. When- 
 ever you shall turn away with disgust from the weak inconsistency 
 or thoughtless obstinacy of human nature, its insiduous power will 
 distill strength to hope, and faith to endure. It will be manna to 
 your soul. Even the voluptuous 'Lord Byron' was recalled to 
 thoughtful regret for his past by the calm waters of a lake. Hear, 
 Fanny. 
 
 ' Clear, placid Leman ! thy contrasted lake 
 
 With the wide world I've dwelt in, is a thing, 
 Which warns me with its stillness, to forsake 
 Earth's troubled waters, for a purer spring. 
 
 thy soft murmuring 
 Sounds sweet, as if a sister's voice reproved 
 That I with stern delights, should e'er have been so moved.' " 
 
 " You know Richard, I love more than groves and placid lakes. 
 I am more deeply and solemnly impressed with giant mountains, 
 rugged cliffs, frowning precipices, ample, unplowed solitudes, and 
 deep sequestered valleys." 
 
 " You revere the mountains and their accompaniments, because 
 they proclaim liberty. They whisper to your mind universal free- 
 dom. The dwellers among mountains ever exhibit a kingly intre- 
 pidity against oppression. Repeat Fanny, the words of ' Byrant,' 
 on your favorite,' William Tell.' " 
 
 Her gaze turned to lofty northern peaks, alternately frowning in 
 cloud shadows, and brightening in the sun. Exalted by the con- 
 templation, her voice thrilled with the sentiment of the poem. 
 
 " Chains may subdue the feeble spirit, but thee, 
 'Tell,' of the iron heart ! they could not tame ! 
 For thou wert of the mountains ; they proclaim 
 
 The everlasting creed of liberty. 
 
 That creed is written on the untrampled snow. 
 Thundered by torrents which no power can hold, 
 Save that of God, when he sends forth his cold. 
 
 And breathed by winds that through the free heaven blow. 
 
 Thou, while thy prison walls were dark around, 
 Didst meditate the lesson Nature taught, 
 And to thy brief captivity was brought 
 
 A vision of thy Switzerland, unbound.". 
 
382 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Her hands were joined, and extended towards the mountains ; 
 and like a devotee before the altar, her face grew divine. She 
 finished. 
 
 " The bitter cup they mingled, strengthened thee 
 For the great work to set thy country free." 
 
 She turned the sublime fervor of her misty eyes upon Richard. 
 His proud smile answered them. He said, — 
 
 " Those tears are more valuable than pearls, my sister. They 
 express an indignant sorrow for America in chains, as well as for 
 Switzerland, under the heel of Gessler. Can you longer doubt the 
 Christian consistency of yielding ourselves to the grand and enno- 
 bling influence of the mystic !ove of Nature ? " 
 
 " Alas ! Richard, what are a few tears, and womaji's tears, at 
 that ? " 
 
 "Do you remember the widow's two mites?" 
 
 "Of course, Richard ! " with a tinge of impatience. 
 
 " Well, you also remember that Christ said she had given more 
 than they all — more than the rich who cast in their abundance, 
 because she offered all she had. Hush, Fanny, and hear me out. 
 Your tears are all you have to offer at present. Man gives sturdy 
 blows on the heated iron of controversy and debate, and thus 
 slowly molds the destiny of nations. Dr. Channing says, — 
 
 ^^ ^ Th^ro^ IS constantly going on in our world a conflict between 
 good and evil. The cause of human nature has always to wrestle 
 with foes. All improvement is a victory won by struggles.' 
 
 " Your woman's hands will yet be summoned to the conflict ; 
 they will yet, with valorous strength, assist in the struggles. Be 
 patient, then, be patient." 
 
 " Iron Grey's head is turning round to us restlessly, and his ears 
 are pointing to the watering trough yonder. I will be content with 
 your prophecy," said Fanny, pleasantly. "Let us go on." 
 
 While Iron Grey's nose was plunging in and out of the cool 
 water under the elms, Richard remarked upon the cheerfulness 
 and thrift of the town about them, the pleasant homes of the in- 
 dustrious citizens, the busy stores, the neatly clad children of all 
 classes wending their way to the public schools ; and the numerous 
 church spires piercing the masses of green foliage. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE." ^ ;^S^ 
 
 "This is a cheerful sight, Fanny," he said; "and il; is repeated 
 in every Northern town, village or hamlet — wherever the free 
 hand of labor plies its skill. A general comfort, plenty and intel- 
 ligence pervades the whole North. Honor to the hardened hand 
 of industry ! Honor to the brow wet with honest sweat ! It is 
 the coronet of true nobility." 
 
 "Richard, you are "eloquent on the industrious." 
 "One needs be eloquent, when, as Mr. Goodell declared before 
 the joint committee at Boston, when he charged upon the South ' a 
 deep and foul conspiracy against the liberties of the laboring peo- 
 ple of the North.'" 
 
 " What ' joint committee .? ' " 
 
 "Why, you know very well. Fanny — the committee of the 
 legislature, to which was referred the speech of Governor Everett 
 on the impertinent demand of the Southern States, that the non- 
 slave-holding States should suppress liberty of speech ; and that 
 they should make it highly penal to print or publish anti-slavery 
 sentiments. Mr. Goodell referred to* the assertion of Governor 
 McDuffiie and other distinguished gentlemen,, that * the laboring 
 population of no people on earth are entitled to liberty, or capable 
 of enjoying it.' " 
 
 " Preposterous and arrogant idea, that the laborers of the North 
 are incapable of enjoying freedom ! and not being entitled to lib- 
 erty, should be reduced to slavery ! Ah ! what depths of malig- 
 nant barbarism does that assertion unveil ! Those South Carolinians 
 not only enslave a race they term inferior, but they would enslave 
 the North as well." 
 
 " Yes, Fanny, that diabolical assertion includes you and me ; for 
 whoever shapes a garment, builds a fence, plows a furrow, knits a 
 stocking, or cooks a meal, or nurses an infant, according to Gov- 
 ernor McDuffie, should put on the gyves of slavery ! " 
 
 They were near the smooth, green grounds of the arsenal. 
 " Suppose we alight, and visit the interior. Have you ever ex- 
 amined the treasures of that spacious building ? " pointing to one 
 in the inclosure. 
 
 " Never. It would give me great pleasure." 
 " Or pain, Fanny .? " 
 "Or pain, Richard?" 
 
384 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " Certainly, pain that a Christian nation should spend so much 
 time and money, fashioning murderous weapons for the enforce- 
 ment of moral obligations — obligations which our Savior subli- 
 mated in the simple words of the 'Golden Rule.'" 
 
 They strolled up the broad flagging, past the long shops, where 
 at open windows stood working-men in aprons, with shirt sleeves 
 rolled to the elbows, manipulating the ingenious steel intricacies 
 of gun making. Fanny made her own observations. She was 
 struck with the general manly bearing and intellectual faces of the 
 busy multitude. Turning to Richard, she said in a low voice, — 
 
 " And so those Southerners would reduce these men to bondage ? 
 to a level with the brutal condition of their slaves ? Let McDuffie 
 stand on this pavement where we stand, and dare to assert that 
 they 'are not e?ititled to liberty, 7ior are capable of enjoying it!^^^ 
 With a gesture of indignation, she added, — 
 
 " He might well tremble for his fate ! " 
 
 " I am glad to see, my dear sister, that you are making so good 
 use of that speech. You are right. Lay this fact, and similar 
 ones, away in memory ; ready at your hand, that 3'ou may sling 
 them like the youthful David's smooth stones from the brook, at 
 the giant Wrong of our land. I perceive that your woman's arm 
 will make dextrous throws." 
 
 Her clear laugh caused many a pair of eyes to lift from the 
 benches, over which they were bending ; but the remark was for 
 her brother's ear. 
 
 "Thank you for the simile, Richard, although the compliment is 
 somewhat equivocal. I am glad to think I may be adroit in 
 something useful to progress. So then I shall set myself about 
 collectino: from the current of events small missiles to sink into 
 the forehead of arrogant wrong. Is that it, Richard ? " 
 
 "In the name of the Lord of Hosts, Fanny, not in your own 
 strength." 
 
 Fanny was happy in the companionship of her brother. This 
 was one of her golden days. She listened with delight and trust 
 to his ripened thoughts. Both realized that the necessarily diver- 
 gent paths of life would render their pleasant communings rarer, 
 year by year. They sauntered over the well-kept walks, till the 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 385 
 
 national flag caughi their view above the trees, floating on its lofty 
 btafl against the morning sky. 
 
 A sudden transition of feeling seized Fanny ; a tremulous rapture 
 thrilled her voice. Her luminous face lifted to the flag's ample 
 folds, while she repeated, — 
 
 " When Freedom from her mountain height 
 
 Unfurled her standard to the air. 
 She tore the azure robe of night. 
 
 And set the stars of glory there ! 
 She mingled with its gorgeous dyes 
 
 The milky baldric of the skies ! 
 And striped its pure celestial white 
 
 With streakings of the morning light." 
 
 " Ah ! tears again } forever tears ! " 
 
 "Richard, shall I ever be strons?" 
 
 " Yes, as I said before, in due time. When by proper observa- 
 tion and careful thought, the moral and religious convictions are 
 sufficiently disciplined, they will assume control of the heart, and 
 offer other channels for your emotions." 
 
 '' That day seems to me too far away." 
 
 "Then let us make some advances towards it now. You know 
 you and I have adopted Truth and Freedom as our life-long rally- 
 ing words. To distinguish these celestial principles from their 
 constitutional, political, and religious alloys, will require a scrutiny 
 earnest and severe. Let us consider that glorious symbol, unfold- 
 ing its beauty, and complaining to the blue depths above. If divine 
 Freedom still stood upon her mountain height, and after having 
 unfurled her standard to the air; I say, if she still held the staff in 
 her own sovereign hand, as the magnificent reward to the justice of 
 this Nation, then tears of solemn admiration might fill my cool 
 eyes, also." 
 
 " Then, Richard, it would not be oyrs ! It could not be the 
 American flag." 
 
 " Too true ! It is ours only by fraud. It is an American false- 
 hood. Its typical purity is stained by pirate hands, soiled by the 
 foul huzzas of lying lips. It is polluted with robbery, sanguinary 
 cruelty, the rust of chains, the shame of bondage, and fraternal 
 hatred." 
 
386 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Fanny met the indignant look of her brother with a startled gaze, 
 and replied, — 
 
 *• Richard ! Richard ! you freeze my enthusiasm, and trample upon 
 my patriotism." 
 
 " It is always a severe task to distinguish truth from error; but 
 truth is eternal, and freedom is the birthright of man, twin-born 
 ■with him. The grasp of tyranny holds that flag over slaves. 
 Those stars are set in Mosaic darkness. Those 'streakings of the 
 morning light' are borrowed from the lurid dawn of Paganism — 
 'its vaulted pure celestial white" is but stripings of the blinding fog 
 which veils our national moral vision." 
 
 '' Henceforward, then, you would have me cease to bestow either 
 my love or reverence upon the proud banner. Henceforth you 
 would have me raise to its hovering glory only looks of sorrowful 
 reproof." 
 
 "I would have you first deliberate for yourself, and then, if there 
 be truth in what I have said, adopt it. As for me, I already regard 
 it with shame for my countr}-, and I shall continue to proclaim the 
 wicked duplicity of its perverted interpretation, till, in the language 
 of your poet Bryant, (and you will pardon me for changing his 
 burning words to prose) till ' terribly Freedom springeth forth, as 
 springs the flame above the burning piles ; and shoutest to the 
 Nation, who returns her shouting, while the pale oppressor flies ! ' " 
 
 Fanny laid her hand on her brother's arm, and with heroic hope 
 exclaimed, — 
 
 '* All hail to the triumphs of that day ! Dare we, Richard, look 
 for its early dawning ?" 
 
 "I am not a seer," he said. "Times and seasons are in God's 
 hands ; but this I know of Freedom, in the past, — 
 
 •Power at thee has launched 
 His bolts, and with his lightnings smitten thee • 
 They could not quench the life thou hast from Heaven.' " 
 
 They were now ascending the steps of the plain, quadrangular 
 building used as a depository for finished guns. They ascended 
 from story to story, walked up and down the long aisles of polished 
 floors, between the shining stacks of arms. They wound around 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 387 
 
 the double-tiered, elliptical racks, filling each story, as one threads 
 the paths of a flower-garden. 
 
 "Fanny, there are iihicty thousand jjtitrders hidden in these pol- 
 ished barrels, within these four walls — ninty thousand death 
 groans, within their throats ! and when these guns go to the front, 
 our religion prays for their success. The glorious flag out there on 
 the green, leads the ghastly host. I have not time to say more. 
 Exercise your free thought upon that fact ; if you deem it worthy a 
 place among your sling stones, drop it into memory with the others. 
 Come, take my arm, Fanny. Let us leave this Golgotha, this 
 place of skulls. Are you faint? your face is pallid. Come, let us 
 descend to the green areas and sunny walks. We will repair to 
 the chapel, and seek Truth there." 
 
 The chapel doors were carelessly open. They ascended a flight 
 of unswept stairs, to the audience-room. A look of neglect and 
 indifference pervaded the dingy slips and swinging doors. 
 
 " Sit down, Fanny," said Richard. " You are better, now. 
 Mefi pray he? e. ' ' 
 
 " How ? " 
 
 " Constitutionally, I suppose." 
 
 " How constitutionally ? " 
 
 " Id accordance with its intent, in harmony with war, standing 
 armies, and slavery. I find the steps of mercy, truth and brother- 
 hood constantly blockaded by this ' stone of stumbling.' " 
 
 " Doubtless Richard, you judge the sermons and prayers offered 
 here must necessarily have a martial ring — mostly omitting the 
 humility and forbearance of the gospel, — and that, in addressing 
 the Deity, it would, in harmony with these surroundings, be done 
 by Svord of command.' " 
 
 '' Assuredly I do. You wield the weapon of satire well. I 
 ought; for I am fast learning — yes, too fast, the enigmatical char- 
 acter of churches as well as flags. On each side of this chapel are 
 devised and fashioned munitions of war. War deluges nations 
 with every pain, wound, privation, torture, groan and grief in the 
 catalogue of human agony ; with every species of disfiguring and 
 maiming of the human body, which was the last and most perfect 
 work of God's creation. It fills hospitals and homes with the muti- 
 lated forms of robust and stalwart life." 
 
388 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "The work of Christ, our Savior, was benignly opposed to the 
 deeds of war. He healed the sick, restored sight, bade the lame 
 walk, and even raised the dead," replied Fanny. 
 
 "And this chapel was erected in Christ's name!" exclaimed 
 Richard ; " and the empty mockery of His worship keeps step 
 with the click of those hammers from year to year.*' 
 
 " A strange hallucination seizes the world and professors of 
 Christ, as well ; at the words of incantation, war, troops, infantry, 
 battalions, cavalry, banners and drums, the meek followers of 
 Christ, so called, set up for themselves the Pagan standards of 
 Greece and Rome ; and girded with deadly weapons, march on to 
 slaughter. Why is this, Richard ? Is the church destitute of the 
 power of reflection ? " 
 
 " And then," answered Richard, " on the battle-field, after the 
 most shameless exhibition of the worst passions of men, amid the 
 horrifying sight of the prostrate, wounded, dying and dead, they 
 flaunt their green laurels in the frowning face of the all-searchirg 
 God — the God of peace, love and mercy. No, Fanny; the power 
 of reflection is not lost to the world, or the church, yet there seems 
 to be none exercised. I must give in answer to the awful inquiries 
 we are making, an extract from Doctor Chalmers, an eminent 
 Scottish divine. It seems that his mind has been shocked by the 
 atrocious inconsistencies upon which we are speaking. These are 
 his expressions. 
 
 " ' I avow it. On every side of me I see causes at work which 
 spread a most delusive coloring over war, and to remove its shock- 
 ing barbarities to the background of our contemplation altogether. 
 I see it in the history, which tells me of the superb appearance of 
 the troops and the brilliancy of their successive charges. I see it 
 in the poetry which lends the magic of its numbers to the narration 
 of blood, and transports its many admirers, as by its images and 
 its figures, and its nodding plumes of chivalry, it throws its treach- 
 erous embellishments over a scene of legalized slaughter. I see it 
 in the mnsic which represents the progress of a battle ; and where, 
 after being inspired by the trumpet notes of preparation, the whole 
 beauty and tenderness of a drawing-room are seen to bend over 
 the sentimental entertainment; nor do I hear the utterance of a 
 single sigh, to interrupt the death-tones of the thickening contest, 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 389 
 
 and the moans of the wounded as they fade away upon the ear, and 
 sink into lifeless silence. 
 
 "'All, all goes to show what strange, half-sighted creatures we 
 are. Were it not so, war could never have been seen in any other 
 aspect than that of unmingled hatefulness ; and I can look to noth- 
 ing but the progress of Christian sentiment tipofi earthy to arrest 
 the strong current of its popular and prevailing partiality for 
 war.' " 
 
 Richard stepped forward to the altar before the pulpit, facing 
 Fanny and the swinging door at the entrance. With an oratorical 
 gesture and a sarcastic smile, he began, — 
 
 "And then, my hearers — " 
 
 His arm dropped — the smile sobered into a sudden look of per- 
 plexity. 
 
 " Continue brother," whispered Fanny, uttering a light laugh. 
 " Let thi^ atmosphere be fully perfumed with the holy breath of 
 Chalmers." 
 
 Her head instinctively turned to the door, where, to their mutual 
 surprise, a Quaker hat, and coat on well proportioned shoulders, 
 were ascending. He met their inquiring gaze with a courtly bow, 
 walked half the length of the. aisle, and with an agreeable smile 
 and wave of the hand intended to dispel distrust, he addressed 
 Richard. 
 
 "Continue, my friend. I will become one of thy audience. I 
 am a man of peace, as thou seest;" and seated himself in a slip. 
 
 Richard bowed pleasantly ; and repeating the warning gesture, 
 continued the quotation from Chalmers. 
 
 " ' Then only will an imperious sense of duty lay the check of 
 severe principle on all the subordinate tastes and faculties of our 
 nature. Then will glory be reduced to its right estimate, and the 
 wakeful benevolence of the gospel, chasing away every spell, will 
 be turned by the teaching of no delusion whatever, from the sub- 
 lime enterprise for the good of the species. Then the reign of 
 truth and quietness will be ushered into the world, and war, cruel, 
 atrocious, unrelenting war will be stripped of its many and bewil- 
 dering fascinations.' " 
 
 Richard left the altar to approach the stranger, who met him 
 with extended hand. In pressing Richard's, he remarked, — 
 
390 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "There will be no necessity of asking a blessing from Heaven on 
 this exercise, for I feel already its benign influence. Excuse me," 
 he bowed, " I listened to the whole quotation on the stairs. I am 
 a visitor to this National Armory, myself." 
 
 " Undoubtedly you find some objects of painful interest fostered 
 here by our government," suggested Richard, forming his judg- 
 ment from the plain garb of the new comer. 
 
 ''I find rt-Z/so; and I may safely suppose this 'two or three' 
 gathered here in this chapel are alike traitors to the policy here 
 exhibited." 
 
 " Really we are ; but my sister here has scruples in favor of 
 church and government. She has not yet the effrontery to declare 
 against the faults of either." 
 
 A flush crept into Fanny's cheeks. Her eyes met the respectful 
 look of the stranger. She bowed with a marked reticence of man- 
 ner, in which her cotrage bonnet was of good service. 
 
 "To thy companion," replied the Friend, "the mystery of godli- 
 ness may be still enfolded in its budding, and its expanded blos- 
 som may exceed in fragrance and beauty the present promise." 
 
 Their glances met again. A deeper blush succeeded the first, 
 as she returned a quiet "Thank you," 
 
 To Richard he observed, — 
 
 ** I know quite well, friend, the conventional restraint placed 
 upon familiarity between strangers ; but it seems there should be 
 a limit to distrust under the favorable circumstances of our meet- 
 
 ■ M 
 
 ing. 
 
 "Your impressions concur with mine entirely, sir," replied 
 Richard. 
 
 The stranger continued. 
 
 "There are other flagrant national wrongs kindred to fostering 
 the atrocities of war, which are equally abhorrent. When Truth 
 has once set her throne in the soul, it marshals all wrongs, all 
 tyrannies, all superstitions to judgment. Perhaps, then, our sen- 
 timents may be in unison upon our American Institution, and its 
 Constitutional supports." 
 
 "I regard slavery as the *sum of all villanies' ; and I claim the 
 prime effort of my life to be its extirpation." 
 
 " Frankly spoken, my friend," replied the stranger, " and omi- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 39 1 
 
 nous of thy future ; thou canst not afford to cast away proffered 
 friendship." He pressed Richard's hand, saying, " I pledge thee 
 my regard. I find myself actuated by the same determination. 
 Remember," he continued, giving the hand of Richard a closer 
 pressure, " Remember, the Southron and his relentless Northern 
 allies are on thy track ! " 
 
 The trio descended to the walks, into the delicious air without. 
 Fanny found a seat on the edge of the lovely green. Richard 
 sauntered away with the Friend. The birds fluttered down from 
 the branches to the grass at Fanny's feet, they rustled their wings, 
 cast bright eyes at her askance, and dropped sweet, broken notes, 
 like pearls unstrung. Not a movement startled their tiny sports. 
 
 Plunged in rapid meditations, Fanny sat motionless as a statue. 
 The few hopeful words so respectfully addressed to her in the 
 chapel, were obscure — so ambiguous in meaning, that she was lost 
 in the mazes of a solution, 
 
 " Mystery of godliness ! " she said to herself. " Mystery ! why 
 a mystery ? " 
 
 Her thoughts ran over the old struggles and doubts about her 
 own conversion, her baptism, the silver font, with its three hovering 
 angels, by which she was sealed to the service of God, — sealed to 
 godliness. The solemn reverence of that hour returned and per- 
 vaded her heart. The holy satisfaction of that hour re-illumined 
 her dreamy countenance. 
 
 " And yet I have not arrived at the mystery of godliness, still 
 enfolded in its budding. This mysterious blossom is _>'<?/ to expand 
 in fragrance and beauty. Alas ! again I stumble on slippery 
 places. My feet are on the sand. More struggles, more doubts, 
 more fears. I am weary. How and where, but in the bosom of 
 the church, can I make my calling and election sure? " 
 
 In this trouble of spirit, her hands clasped on her white muslin 
 dress, around the bunch of wild flowers which Richard had gathered 
 for her during the ride ; her lids dropped above the fluttering blue 
 ribbons tied under her chin. Far away up the pale, azure depths, 
 above arsenals, above the floating flag, above the empty, silent 
 chapel, above battle-field and earthly carnage, a vision of the 
 "great White Throne" opened to her view. She was before the 
 footstool of her Omnipotent Helper. 
 
392 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 • 
 
 In full faith of there obtaining the only proper guidance, she 
 offered her voiceless petition. 
 
 " Look Thou upon me, for I am blind. Lead me with Thine 
 own right hand, whithersoever Thou wouldst have me go. Open 
 Thou mine eyes, that I may behold the beauty of Thy eternal 
 Truth." 
 
 Her brother and his Quaker friend stopped before her. The 
 heavenly messenger of Peace seemed to have left a witness upon 
 her brow and eyes. This calm attracted the attention of both. 
 
 " Glorified, my sister.? " playfully asked Richard. 
 
 " M3'stified,'*' thought Fanny; but she arose quickly, and pro- 
 ceeded with her friends towards the chaise. A quick neigh, and a 
 pair of short, pointed ears turned upon them ; bade them hasten. 
 Fanny stooped to the ground, pulled a handful of red clover blos- 
 soms, and flew along to obey the second summons. Iron Gray was 
 appeased with caresses and clover. 
 
 Richard begged the stranger, who was evidently well trained in 
 the elegant forms of society, to excuse the naivete of his sister, re- 
 marking jocosely, — 
 
 "One would imagine she came from the pastures, herself. Her 
 manners are as unrestrained as the summer winds." 
 
 " ' Every natural action is graceful,' says Emerson," replied the 
 Friend. " And, my friend, how 
 
 * Does comeliness of words, or air, 
 With comeliness of deeds, compare?* 
 
 " If that scene were placed on canvass, the most fastidious could 
 but admire." 
 
 Hat in hand, the stranger made his adieus. The chaise rolled 
 briskly away, leaving his white, broad brow and slightly curling 
 chestnut hair bronzed in the sun's glowing rays. 
 
 Iron Gray, bent upon making up lost time, proceeded at a smart 
 pace down the long inclination towards the river. Fanny laid her 
 hand on her brother's arm, saying, — 
 
 " Drive slower, Richard. There's a lady on horseback. Look ! 
 Do, Richard ! She rides splendidly ! Her habit almost sweeps the 
 ground ! And her horse, black as night, with four white feet, and 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 393 
 
 a white star under his flying forelock ! Turn a little from her path. 
 How beautiful ! " 
 
 The charming equestrienne advanced, and when quite near, sud- 
 denly the proud animal went down. His fair rider, whose face at 
 that ^moment was glowing with exhilaration, and had smilingly met 
 the admiring gaze of Fanny, rolled over his head, like a ball, in the 
 sand. 
 
 Quick as thought, Richard threw the lines to his sister, and stood 
 by the bewildered girl, offering his hand to assist her in rising. 
 Without prudery she took it, while disentangling, her dress, and 
 rose to her feet. 
 
 " Of dust we are ; and to dust we must return," she remarked 
 gleefully. " Ah ! my pony." 
 
 He had risen also," with the handsome bridle-rein over his head, 
 trailing on the road. Richard stepped towards him, but he turned 
 away. 
 
 " Do not approach him, sir. He will fly from you. Wait, if you 
 please." 
 
 She gathered up her long skirt in one hand, and went forward. 
 
 " Marmion j " she called in a voice of affectionate command, 
 " Marmion, come, come ! " extending her arm to him. 
 
 He turned slowly about ; with shamefaced step approached his 
 mistress, and laid his nose on her shoulder. Throwing the rein over 
 her arm, she parted the heavy, black locks over his eyes saying, — 
 
 " Never mind Marmion, mi qiierido ! Todo el mundo coinete 
 yerro / " 
 
 With an embroidered handkerchief she brushed the sand from 
 his face and his knees j she patted his shining shoulders, led him 
 back to Richard, and gave him the bridle. She stepped back 
 upon the grass, remarking that her own plight was no better than 
 her pony's. She removed her broad-brimmed straw hat of costly 
 fineness, shook the sand from its green ribbons and bright, green 
 plume. 
 
 She began beating her riding-dress back to its rich, invisible 
 green, when Fanny begged her to accept a brush from her own 
 satchel in the chaise. She attended to the skirt herself ; and then 
 placing the brush in Richard's hand, ingenuously asked his assist- 
 ance. His heart and hand were a little tremulous, as he passed 
 
394 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 the brush over her statuesque shoulders ; but his cool, Northern 
 blood stood him in good service. He acquitted himself creditably, 
 assuring her that the accident was doubtless caused by a rolling 
 stone ; adding, that the surest-footed horses were liable to fall upon 
 our pebbly roads. 
 
 Fanny ventured to inquire, from the chaise, if the lady had 
 escaped without injury ? 
 
 '• Yes dear,'* replied a sparkling voice, " I am unharmed, except 
 a dull pain in one wrist ; that will soon subside. I am very for- 
 tunate." 
 
 She then looked about her, for some object from which she 
 could mount. Finding nothing, she turned to Richard, saying, — 
 
 ''' I am under the necessity of soliciting your aid, sir. Will you 
 lend me your hand, sir, in mounting ' Marmion?'" 
 
 "I fear I should be more awkward than agreeable," he replied. 
 
 " No indeed, sir. Place your hand so," showing the distance 
 from the ground. " I will place my foot upon it ; then with a 
 slight lift on your part, I will spring into the saddle again. 
 
 She placed one hand upon his shoulder, the other upon the 
 pommel, and laughingly gave the word, '*' I am ready," As a bird 
 rises from the ground, she vaulted to Marmion's back. The fire of 
 pride returned to his eyes, as he felt his accustomed burden. He 
 waited " with impatient stamping," for the way. 
 
 She reined him to the side of the chaise, Richard following. 
 
 " I owe many thanks to you, my friends," looking from one to 
 the other ; "and I doubt not, to make other acknowledgment in the 
 form of reward would be considered an insult. I have not far to 
 ride ; but through your courteous aid, I shall arrive with decency." 
 
 '' You are under no obligations," said Richard. " We are happy 
 in restoring you to your queenly position." 
 
 " We are indebted to this event for a great pleasure," said 
 Fanny. 
 
 The lady had been busy unfastening a small, diamond brooch at 
 her throat. This she tossed into the chaise to Fanny. 
 
 " Take this dear, as a keepsake. Do not refuse. It lies on the 
 carpet at your feet." 
 
 A blush crimsoned Fanny's cheeks as she raised the expensive 
 jewel, and said, — 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 395 
 
 " Pray, dear lady, pardon me ; but I do not wear diamonds ; they 
 do not suit with plain attire. Allow me to return it with a thou- 
 sand thanks. I shall not forget this harmless catastrophe." 
 
 The lady took it reluctantly. Bidding a smiling aic revoir^ she 
 waved her hand to both, and galloped away. 
 
 The chaise rolled on in the opposite direction, down the hill, and 
 on to West Elms. 
 
 " This is a day of events," said Fanny. " We have made two unex- 
 pected acquaintances." 
 
 " And those two are as widely different as the North is from the 
 South — both in habit and principle." 
 
 "You know nothing of this lady, Richard," manifesting much 
 surprise. 
 
 " Nothing personally ; but much by deductions from analogy and 
 observation." 
 
 " How ? " 
 
 "Ah! Fanny, you are an unbelieving 'Thomas,' you must place 
 your fingers in the 'nail prints;' in other words, you will have 
 logic. Well then, the premises learned by observation. Her pony 
 with equipment, would safely be valued at three hundred dollars \ 
 her riding suit, including the fine laces, not less than one hundred ; 
 aud the diamond brooch, set in emeralds, with other jewelry about 
 her, has a value of not less than two hundred ; her watch and chain 
 set down at another two hundred — and I think that is under 
 value, — total for one style of locomotion, eight hundred dollars." 
 
 " Minus the watch, Richard ; that is worn everywhere." 
 
 " No doubt she had about her articles worth as much as the 
 watch, which do not enter into this calculation. 
 
 Premise Second. The lady's high bred manners, which, I confess, 
 were the perfection of grace and propriety. Most conspicuous 
 were the cool self-possession with which she met her disgrace, the 
 ingenuous acceptance of my assistance, the absence of all prudery 
 or coquetishiiess : also, I might add, the proud cast of features and 
 finish of language. She petted Marmion in Spanish. 
 
 Premise Third. Her rare generosity in throwing you the brooch 
 as if it were a trifling gift. Did you not observe this Fanny ? " 
 
 " I did ; but I had only time to admire, not to analyze." 
 
 " The result of that admiration was, my sister, falling into an 
 
396 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 imaginary insignificance yourself ; feeling scarcely worthy to lift 
 the trail of her rich habit from the earth. Learn to analyze^ Fanny 
 — it furnishes a basis for a grander nobility than the blue blood 
 of inherited birth. This grander nobility has its escutcheon in- 
 scribed with Truth, beneficent Truth, in contrast with the feudality 
 of the Dark Ages, which is emblazoned with the most ferocious in- 
 stincts of animal tribes." 
 
 " No heraldry is admitted in our Republic," suggested Fanny. 
 
 "Not literally ; but the subtle spirit of rampant lions, leopards, 
 bears, wolves and foxes, animates a portion of our Republic. The 
 South places this unpalatable fruit of effete aristocracies to our 
 Northern lips. The South would fain have us be its serfs." 
 
 " But Richard, how can it imagine such an outrage upon fellow 
 freemen, and how accomplish it?" 
 
 "It imagines it by unconstitutional abridgment of the freedom 
 of speech, and of the press ; it perpetrates the black deed through 
 its minions in Congress, familiarly known as ' dough faces.' " 
 
 "Nonsense !" ejaculated Fanny, indignantly, "there is no com- 
 pulsion to a Northerner. He can remain a freeman, or sink into 
 an abject serfdom, as his own will dictates." 
 
 " Nobly spoken ; but there are Northern serfs. Charles G. 
 Atherton, senator from New Hampshire, and Henry J. Pinkney of 
 South Carolina, slave-holder, are of the same brotherhood. After 
 Pinkney had succeeded in nullifying our power of presenting to 
 government petitions, resolutions, propositions or papers relating 
 to slavery, by ordering them laid upon the table wi-diout being 
 printed or referred, Atherton took out his jack-knife, and whittled 
 a gag for the mouths of Northern freemen, of more accurate dimen- 
 sions. He added the words ^without being debated^ to Pinkney's 
 'without being printed or referred.' And thus one of Xev\ Hamp- 
 shire's sons, born amid the mountains, would stilie the voice of con- 
 science, choke all the utterances of Freedom to silence, and drive 
 before him a herd of maudlin slaves ; he would take the contract 
 himself in Congress." 
 
 "Richard!" She turned her glowing eyes upon him. "Rich- 
 ard ! they will never gag you to silence, Pinkney nor Atherton ! 
 they shall never drive me, a silent thrall, woman as I am, and 
 nothing though \ am ! So here let us cast away all thought of 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 397 
 
 these traitors to God and liberty ; thoughts which goad me to un- 
 righteous wrath. Do not allow their viperous names to darken 
 this golden day. Return to your deductions from the premises 
 already considered. Our time is limited ; we are drawing near 
 West Elms. Conclusion from premise first, Richard. That was 
 the eight-hundred dollar outfit." 
 
 "Well then, from the outfit may be inferred that the lady is not 
 a resident of these parts. Eight hundred dollars is enough to pur- 
 chase a small farm, or to make a good beginning on a large one. 
 Our farmers and merchants gather money too slowly to lavish it in 
 that manner. None but those who live upon robbery, or the stolen 
 toils of others, have such amounts at their disposal. I deduce that 
 she is a Southerner." 
 
 " Now for premise second. That relates to her high-bred man- 
 ners, grace and propriety, Spanish tongue, etc.," and Fanny 
 laughed gaily. •' Ah I I fear she galloped away with your heart, 
 my bachelor brother." 
 
 "I confess her learning was noble; and softened by the con- 
 descension which enslaves man's adoration." 
 
 Her accomplishments denote the wealth, time and opportunity 
 of what is termed high-birth, which includes reading, study, refined 
 social intercourse, and travel. The proud cast of features must re- 
 sult from absence of sordid cares and the possession of power over 
 inferiors. I observed the Southern fire flaming in her impetuous 
 eyes." 
 
 "Deduction second. Marmion's rider is of blue-blood lineage." 
 
 " Let me hear about her rare generosity, in casting diamonds at 
 my feet." 
 
 "What is your inference, Fanny ? You are a sharp logician." 
 
 "Why, that she has thousands at her command, and could easily 
 replace that cluster by another more brilliant, or that she has others 
 already." 
 
 " Analyze deeper ; and say that the unpaid labor of bondage buys 
 diamonds. Say that the price of a little, prattling, five-year-old 
 boy, or the price of a laughmg, little curly-headed, two-year-old 
 girl, sold from a broken hearted mother, perhaps, bought that dia- 
 mond and emerald brooch. Then deduce that she who has rare 
 generosity is a slave-holder." 
 
398 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK: JUNE. 
 
 Fanny replied with a shudder, — 
 
 " Oh ! my heart aches to tiie core at the hideous picture. There 
 are cruelty, tears, and blood in that brooch. Its touch is crimi- 
 nal ! " 
 
 "The same stains are upon the pony, caparison, habit, laces and 
 green plume, my sister ; but here we are upon the long, broad 
 street of West Elms. These stately trees arch grandly overhead ; 
 the sight of these abodes of peace, amidst ample surroundings of 
 comfort, are medicine to perturbed thoughts." 
 
 They soon alighted at the granite steps of the deep lawn in front 
 of Mrs. Glenly's, and were met at the door by the outstretched 
 hands of Mrs. Glenly and her two daughters, Caro and Ida. Over 
 their shoulders shone the beneficent faces of the father and son, 
 who had just returned from their farm labors. They were wel- 
 comed with that warmth of cordialty which those only know who 
 are engaged in a saving controversy with sin-sodden, but time- 
 honored svstems ; who, hand in hand, are en^rajjed in the strujiirle 
 for the sublime victory of godlike Love and Peace, over debased 
 Passion ; who calmly abjure worldly homage and distinction ; who 
 quietly exchange terrerestrial dignities for public contempt ; and 
 who are at once the glory and scandal of neighborhoods and com- 
 munities. 
 
 Such was the friendship of the Glenlys and their guests ; its 
 eager hand-shaking had nothing deceptive or superficial. 
 
 During the afternoon of the second day, there was another arri- 
 val at the Glenlys. Two men came up the walk, with heads bent, 
 and conversing in low tones ; one in Quaker attire, the other, 
 marked by the easy carriage of good birth, combined with the de-' 
 spised American color. 
 
 " Why, girls ! the white gentleman is Friend Sterlingworth," ex- 
 claimed Mrs. Glenly. 
 
 " But the other is a stranger, mother." 
 
 "True; you remember the sentiment of 'angels unawares.'" 
 
 She met them at the steps, w'ith the warm welcome w-hich was the 
 spirit of the house. Fanny had discovered that the Friend and 
 dress were the same she had seen in the chapel at the arsenal, the 
 day previous. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 399 
 
 After a formal introduction to Fanny, Mr. Sterlingworth intro- 
 duced his companion to each lady, under the name of Ishmael 
 Valmonte. The young man met his welcome with a retiring bow, 
 downcast eye, and blushes that were plainly seen under his light 
 brown hue, offering a shy acceptance of the sympathetic hands ex- 
 tended towards him. 
 
 "Friend Sterlingworth, we rarely see you since our removal to 
 Massachusetts," said Mrs. Glenly. '' Doubtless you are here now 
 on some errand of mercy." 
 
 *' I am here at the command of both duty and pleasure. Under 
 this roof-tree, I ever find rest and renewed hope in the cause of 
 freedom, to which we are mutually devoted. I am now in pursuit 
 of a home for Ishmael.'" 
 
 " Is he a fugitive ? " asked Caro. 
 ^ *' No, Caro! he is a freeman by all the laws and codes touching 
 his former condition. ' His master brought him to New York, 
 sought the abolitionists privately, made out his free papers, and left 
 him in their hands tor future guardianship. I was in the city at the 
 time. The friends of freedom entrusted him to my care. He is 
 to be educated in New England." 
 
 " Fanny had never before known an American slave, and she 
 made his words and manner a constant study. Strange enough, 
 her previous ideas concerning one who had just come out of bon- 
 dage were all at fault. There was no irrepressible outburst of the 
 ecstatic gladness one should naturally evince in the early posses- 
 sion of Hberty. Ishmael maintained an almost painful reticence on 
 the points she so longed to ascertain, giving brief, but respectful 
 replies to questions tending to elicit a history of his life. What 
 might be his soulful emotions, she could not read, for the dark, 
 downcast eyes were ever veiled. Conversation with him ran 
 thus, — 
 
 "Ishmael, are you not glad to be free?" 
 
 "Yes, miss." 
 
 •' Had you a cruel master ? " 
 
 " No, miss." 
 
 " Were you ever punished ? " 
 
 "I was never whipped, ma'am.'* 
 
 •" Were your tasks hard ? " 
 
400 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "1 had no tasks, ma'am." 
 
 " What work was assigned you ? " 
 
 " I did not work, miss ; I was footman." 
 
 This system of questioning was repulsive to Fanny ; and, much 
 as she desired to learn of the working of a system which she ab- 
 horred, from one initiated, the door was closed. 
 
 Caro, Ida and Fanny found many pleasant strolls through the 
 meadows to the river and to the berry fields. They were accompanied 
 by the friend, who failed not to draw Ishmael along with them ; striv- 
 ing, as Caro said, to charm away his embarrassment in a strange 
 land. Ishmael always made preparations for the excursions with a 
 quick step ; but once upon the paths, he invariably fell to the rear, 
 followin.2: at a short distance. If Mr. Sterlingworth, for any reason, 
 became "separated from the group, Ishmael walked after him, pre- 
 serving a measured distance between them. 
 
 On one occasion, it chanced that the Friend and Fanny walked 
 apart from the sisters. Fanny kindly called Ishmael to her side. 
 
 " Walk with us, Ishmael ; do not remain ever alone." 
 
 Giving her a pleasant smile, he replied, — 
 
 " I will, miss." 
 
 A few moments passed, and he had fallen back to his former 
 place. 
 
 " Mr. Sterlingworth," said Fanny, "why will not Ishmael talk 
 with us } Do you not think he likes liberty ? " 
 
 "I will tell t'hee, Fanny. Didst thou ever have a caged bird? a 
 canary, or any other, to which thou hast opened the door of his 
 prison, and said, ' Fly away to thy native skies.? ' " 
 
 '• I had a tame, young robin, which I took from some pitiless 
 boys, and kept through the winter. In the spring, when the air 
 was thrilled with the songs of birds, he listened sadly, day after 
 day, but sang not a note. I opened the door of his cage in the 
 sunny woods, and bade him go." 
 
 '' \Vhere did thy robin fly ? " 
 
 " He flew to a spray of a bush, and sat there bewildered." 
 
 "What next.?" 
 
 " He essayed a high branch of an oak, but fell into a pool of 
 water beneath ; then I wished he were in the cage again, but he 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 40I 
 
 fluttered out of the pool, falling and soaring, till he was lost to me 
 in the woods." 
 
 "As J expected, Fanny. Thou seest robin's wings were not used 
 to flying. Although he longed to perch upon the sunniest, topmost 
 twig, he could not spread his wings, so long folded. A few days 
 and weeks of trial were necessary to develope his natural buoy- 
 ancy. Perhaps now he is careering through space, and pouring 
 forth the sweetest sonsfs of all his mates." 
 
 " I hope so ; for granting his freedom seemed to me a cruel 
 abandonment." 
 
 " Now, Fanny, compare Issy with thy robin. The poor fellow 
 feels yet the pressure of his life-long gyves. The feeling has not 
 worn off, nor will it for years. Fetters of all kinds, though encased 
 in velvet, contract and indent. Every mental capacity he inherits (as 
 I know thou believest) alike with the whole human race; but these 
 capacities have developed no farther than the measure of his chains. 
 I see ! Thou hast thought to draw from him the burden of the 
 past, and to share it with him. The time will be when his tongue 
 will be loosed, and sympathy like thine will be as grateful as the 
 dews that descend upon Hermon." 
 
 '' I have been quite troubled." 
 
 " I have seen thy perplexity, and beg thee to be troubled no 
 more. The better way, I think for Issy, is to solve the problem of 
 liberty by observation, and his own method of thought, at least for 
 the present." 
 
 " Why will he not walk with us ? " 
 
 '•'Because he is accustomed to follow his master. He followed 
 him all about the streets of New York^ and while he was making 
 out the free papers, Issy stood at the back of his chair. More 
 than that, Fanny, Issy never sat in the presence of a white person 
 before he left New York." 
 
 Nature bestowed golden days upon the week of Mr. Sterling- 
 worth's stay at the Glenlys. To Fann}^ every one brim.med with 
 happiness ; and from the conversations, her soul grew in the grace 
 of the reformer. Ishmael anticipated every wish, and divined her 
 every need. He raised her fallen handkerchief, he placed her 
 chair, brought her bonnet and shawl, opened doors before her, and 
 closed them after. He poured water from the ice pitcher, reaching 
 
402 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 it before she could lay her hand upon it. Indeed he performed 
 these duties with alacrity for all in the household ; but towards 
 Mrs. Glenly and Fanny there was noticeable partiality. 
 
 "Why, girls," said Mrs. Glenly, one day, "what will become of 
 us when Ishmael is gone? We shall have to wait upon ourselves. 
 W^e have suddenly put on the airs of Southerners." 
 
 " O mother ! I like it ! " declared Ida, ringing out a m.erry laugh ; 
 *'this being waited upon at every turn is delightful. I wish Ish- 
 mael, or some other Arab could be my constant attendant." 
 
 "Ida Glenly I " remonstrated Caro, "you should be ashamed of 
 such meaningless words. I am sure you have wounded Fanny by 
 this reckless outbreak." 
 
 Fanny's cheeks flushed ; and she replied seriously, — 
 
 " Ida, I believe every person is accountable for his own senti- 
 ments ; girls, as well as women and men. Your sentiments are not 
 mine 1 " 
 
 "Do those blushes tell a tale?" derisively questioned Ida. 
 " Perhaps you cherish a tenderness for Ishmael's handsome figure. 
 I confess his jet black curls are lovely beyond anything I ever saw, 
 and he hides fascination under those forever drooped lids. More- 
 over, he has an aristocratic cut of features, if I,, an abolitionist's 
 daughter, can imagine what an aristocrat may be," 
 
 '•Ida!" quickly responded the reproving voice of her mother, 
 " you are incorrigible. I bid you retire to your chamber ; remain 
 there till to-morrow morning." 
 
 It w^as now her turn to flush ; but obedience was the law of her 
 parents. Ida, mortified and crest-fallen, withdrew. 
 
 Mrs. Glenly and Caro repaired to the kitchen ; it was ironing 
 day. A cloud still brooded over Fanny, when Mr. Sterlingworth 
 and Issy entered. Unaccustomed to dissembling, her face was an 
 open page to the Friend's observant eye. He seated himself near, 
 and asked kindlv if auo;ht troubled her. 
 
 *' Can I not assist to unravel perplexities ? " 
 
 All undivined by Fanny, Mr. Sterlingworth often studied the 
 lights and shadows that swept over her face; its pain, grief, sym- 
 pathy, its childlike questionings, doubts, and illuminations. He had 
 found these changes were produced by struggles with conscience, 
 by a supreme adoration of nature, by a self abnegation, or by other 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 403 
 
 causes equally worthy. He was sure now she would speak with the 
 frank candor that ever charmed him. After some hesitation, to 
 relieve embarrassment, she attempted to pour a glass of water her- 
 self. Ishmael was there before her ; he poured and presented it, 
 with a graceful bow. 
 
 She turned to Mr. Sterlingworth. 
 
 " That is the trouble — Ishmael will serve me as if I were his 
 mistress. I have accepted his services as if I desired this servility, 
 but I have reproached myself that I have not given him his first 
 lesson on freedom by a refusal to be waited upon in this ^man- 
 
 ner " 
 
 It 
 
 What hast thou to say, Issy 1 " asked the gentleman. 
 
 "Miss Fanny," he said, "I have waited upon you with great 
 pleasure, I assure you ! " with another bow, retiring to his seat. 
 
 " Issy has rendered thee a love service ! " explained the Friend, 
 " not that of a menial. He has done this habitually for those who 
 classed him with brutes. He cannot refuse these trifling attentions 
 to those who acknowledge his manhood. He will be wounded if 
 thou refusest. These habits will soon wear away. I fully appre- 
 ciate thy fine sensibilities, Fanny, but banish these thoughts to the 
 wind. Come into the orchard; I have discovered several early 
 trees. Issy, bring the basket." 
 
 " He seems so much like Richard," thought Fann\% as they 
 walked over the green turf. Shall I ever see things in their right 
 light, without a guide ? " 
 
 The short week soon came to an end. The departure of the 
 Friend and his charge was followed down the long avenue of elms 
 by the regretful regards of the family. Ishmael was to occupy the 
 solitary passages of her visit. The strange effects of bondage, and 
 the bewildering process of becoming free, were to become fruitful 
 sources of reflection. 
 
 The Glenly homestead was situated at the head of the street, 
 within the shade of the avenue below. The house was large, 
 square and plain. Its lower apartments were spacious and airy. 
 The tiers of chambers were equally commodious ; their many open 
 windows admitted the songs of birds and neighbor's voices. They 
 presented also, views of the sweeping river, rich hay-flelds, reach- 
 
4C4 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 ing to its banks, sunny pastures well stocked with herds which 
 would have delighted the eye even of Rosa Bonheur. On the south 
 side, a hard graveled road wound round from the street to ample 
 barns. Over this road, at morning and at night, were driven lowing 
 troops of brindled and spotted cows, frolicsome calves, sleek horses, 
 and gentle-eyed oxen. 
 
 These were the delight of Fanny ; the tramp of their feet was a 
 sure sammons to the open doors or windows, till the dumb crea- 
 tures seemed to grow conscious of her presence and love. Rural 
 rambles, twilight walks, reading and social calls made time pass 
 swiftlv. 
 
 One golden evening, a card was brought to IMrs. Glenly, inscribed 
 with a name which caused a shadow of serious surprise. She en- 
 tered the parlor, however, with her usual smiling composure. Soon 
 the girls heard across the wide hall a sprightly conversation, varied 
 with bursts of polite gayety. The tones were of mutual satisfac- 
 tion and pleasure. It seemed the atfable desire of the visitor to 
 please, and the agreeable willingness of Mrs. Glenly to be com- 
 plaisant. 
 
 '* O Caro ! " said Ida, " what can be the meaning of this, the first 
 call of Mrs. Donald.?" 
 
 "You know Mrs. Donald has Southern relatives ; her sympathies 
 and ours are widely at variance. She has Southern company this 
 summer; that is sufficient cause for coolness on her part." 
 
 '• Her young lady visitor always bows to us when she is out rid- 
 ing ; and I love dearly to see her sweeping by," replied Ida, in an 
 animated manner. "I should like to make her acquaintance." 
 
 " But sister, you well know there is more cause for coolness 
 towards our family on the part of that young lady, than is expected 
 of Mrs. Donald. We believe in the very first breath that Freedom 
 ever drew on American soil, her first cry of life, that all men are 
 created free and equal ; and are endowed by their Creator with cer- 
 tain inalienable rights which, to a Southerner, are no rights at 
 all." 
 
 "And more," spoke Fanny. "We supplement that with the 
 Scriptures; that God made of one blood, all nations of the 
 earth." 
 
 " And therefore all nations are men, entitled to life, liberty, and 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 405 
 
 the pursuit of happiness," finished Caro. ''The Southerners find 
 men only in the white races; and a paucity at that." 
 
 " Southerner ! " cried Ida. " Southerner ! that walking phantom ! 
 ♦hat spectre, of which some people have a frightful dread ! I should 
 like their acquaintance. I should like to visit their pleasant land 
 of fruits and flowers, to gather jasmines in March, and roses in 
 December." 
 
 " You must be infatuated," quickly replied Caro. Many of us 
 who live in cold, icy climates, would delight to breathe their balmy 
 air, and to saunter'amid tropical fragrance. But in the language 
 of Garrison, ' To us there is no Union ; a price is set upon our heads P 
 March jasmines and December roses do not flourish in the prisons 
 that await us ! and you, my sweet sister, would as soon become a 
 victim to these Algerine laws, as any other, because our father is 
 laboring to 'establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, and pro- 
 mote the general welfare.' " 
 
 "I prefer Northern ice and snow, to Southern incarceration!" 
 said Fanny, with supreme disdain. 
 
 Just then the call ended; the lady departed, gathering up laces 
 and silks from dews scarcely yet falling. 
 
 Mrs. Glenly entered the circle of outstretched hands, and 
 allowed herself to be drawn down upon the sofa, in a nest of bright, 
 inquisitive faces. 
 
 "We are ready, mamma; speak quickly," urged Ida. 
 
 " And what do you thiuk ? " 
 
 Each of her hands w^as suddenly imprisoned in a warm clasp, and 
 three pairs of eyes twinkled about her. 
 
 "Well, listen. Mrs. Donald came to entreat the favor of an in- 
 vitation for Miss Leonore to an afternoon tete-a-tete with the family ; 
 that is, with myself and daughters, Fanny included." 
 
 Ida's hands clapped with joy. 
 
 " Mrs. Donald assures me the young lady desires the interview, 
 in order to converse with abolitionists ; to learn from their own lips, 
 views which she has heard so much deprecated. She desires also to 
 form friendships with the young ladies." 
 
 " In other words," said Mrs. Donald' " she wishes to become 
 Northernized." 
 
 In joyful amazement they listened to her words ; declaring they 
 
4o6 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 loved her already. They set about planning the day, the hour, 
 and a dainty tea. 
 
 The next day, in one of the square front chambers, amid chatter- 
 ings, suggestions and laughter, the three girlish heads of Caro, 
 Ida andFanny, bent over a delicate sheet of note paper, framing 
 the invitation for the succeeding afternoon. Ida held the pen. 
 
 " Do not begin so high," advised Caro. " Dear me ! such a giddy- 
 headed thing. I'll warrant you will send regrets that you are not a 
 Southerner yourself, before you finish." 
 
 Ida threw up her hands with nervous exultation. 
 
 "Well then, I will confess — I covet — I covet that white- 
 footed pony. I covet the life of ease and travel a Southerner 
 enjoys. I want to go to the Springs every summer, and to Europe 
 — and I would not object seriously to a few diamonds." 
 
 " Fie ! Ida. Papa has a bad tare growing in his wheat, I fear. 
 Let me write it. Fanny, seems to me this looks a little like sub- 
 serviency." 
 
 " Not in the least," was the quick reply. " It is at her own 
 request." 
 
 The note was sent by the hired man when he came in to dinner. 
 The next morning filled the spacious apartments with another pleas- 
 ant excitement. Fanny's chamber was to be used as the dressing- 
 room of the guest, to which she would be first conducted. Joyful 
 voices echoed across the wide hall. A panorama passed before 
 the open windows, of beaming eyes, rosy faces, and hands filled 
 with flowers. 
 
 " Three waiting-maids for one princess," said Mrs. Glenly, unex- 
 pectedly appearing among them. " All is ready below stairs." 
 
 "Three wailing maids for Frederick Douglass, also, if he would 
 honor us with his presence," replied Caro. 
 
 "True," joined Fanny. " Richard met him at the convention at 
 Nantucket. Your father was there at that time, Ida. Frederick 
 Douglass astonished his hearers by the intellectual power of his 
 address." 
 
 " You know Mr. Garrison said in his speech following, that he 
 was a living witness of the justice of the severest condemnation he 
 had ever uttered of slavery. And yet, Douglass had been held at 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 407 
 
 the South, as a piece of property, a chattel, and had been treated 
 as if he were a domesticated brute." 
 
 " Papa was delighted with him ; and when he comes, his wait- 
 ing-maids will festoon the gentlemen's guest-chamber with flowers," 
 said Caro. 
 
 Early in the afternoon, the young lady was seen walking up the 
 green carpeted avenue, followed by a short, black servant, evi- 
 dently on excellent terms with her mistress ; for both were smiling 
 and talking busily. The ladies met her at the door ; Ida showed 
 her up stairs. Her short, high-shouldered servant followed. She 
 wore a starched, white turban, dotted with blue, covering all her 
 hair ; a plain black dress, and a white apron. She untied the pale 
 green ribbons of her mistress' white chip hat, and lifted it from 
 her head. The hat was surrounded by a yellow jasmine wreath, 
 which trailed down her shoulders, and was a fac-simile of her own 
 Southern vines. Her servant shook out the auburn curls of her 
 mistress' luxuriant hair ; took from her basket a brush, ran her 
 quick eye over the elegant muslin dress, carefully removing every 
 atom of road dust from the rich embroidered flounces, and from 
 her pale green slippers. She untangled the points of Parisian lace 
 about Leonore's throat, from the pearl pendants at her ears. 
 
 "Toad," said the mistress, "give me my fan." 
 
 " No, mistress, mus fan you darlin face myself." 
 
 She took her place a little back of her, moving the air gently, 
 and looking steadily at her mistress. 
 
 " No Toad, no. I am a Northerner to-day. Give me the fan ; 
 you followed me for your own gratification, you know." 
 
 They descended to the parlor. 
 
 " Toad, you can go to the kitchen ; perhaps you can be useful 
 there ; unless (turning to Mrs. Glenly,) the ladies wish you to re- 
 main ; either course will be equally satisfactory to me." 
 
 " Let her remain," eagerly spoke Caro, " if agreeable to your- 
 self." 
 
 "Most certainly, my dear. Toad, we are both Northerners to- 
 day. Now mind, my lady, you are not to be hands and feet for 
 me. Please yourself j you will not give offence to these ladies, I 
 am sure." 
 
 They entered the parlor. Fanny rose from her chair. 
 
4o8 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " An unexpected surprise, but most welcome," said Leonore, 
 advancing and taking both her hands. " My sweet Fanny ! my 
 modest Puritan of the chaise." 
 
 '• I am not sure that I can claim that ancestral honor." 
 
 '* Pardon ! but we call all nativ^es of Massachusetts Puritans — 
 the posterity of the ' May Flower.' It is doubtless more beseeming 
 to use your true patronymic ; but — " 
 
 " A thousand pardons," said Caro. " It is Beame, Fanny 
 Beame." 
 
 " I cannot be wrong in supposing then, that knightly blood flows 
 in the veins of the young cavalier who sprang so gallantly to my 
 side after that ignominious fall into the sand. His delicate atten- 
 tions were the soul of chivalry." 
 
 " Richard Beame is my brother, Miss Wallace. He has a 
 knightly heart towards all who suffer ; but he questions not his 
 blood, for he says all men are created of one blood." 
 
 " My second lesson from those fearless lips. * I do not wear dia- 
 monds ; ' and ' all men are created of one blood.' I should be a 
 learner at so pure a fountain of truth;" and she sealed her admira- 
 tion by a kiss, archly stolen. 
 
 After a gentle pressure, she dropped Fanny's hand, and sat by 
 the open window in the playing light and shade of the waving elms. 
 Toad, with the feeling ever present to a slave, withdrew to the 
 lawn, the garden, and finally to the kitchen. 
 
 Fanny was busily revolving in her mind how the young lady 
 would interpret " all men," with her usual freedom of comment. 
 Caro took up her fine hemming ; Ida sat furtively studying Leo- 
 nore's costly and elegant attire. The guest addressed Mrs. Glenly, 
 requesting that her presence should be no restraint upon a full in- 
 terchange of opinion — expressing regret that the North and South 
 were in such bitter antagonism ; which was doubtless the source of 
 misrepresentations, tending to aggravate controversy and ill will. 
 
 An ingenuous and benignant smile sweetened the reply. 
 
 " There is no antagonism on our part, my dear. We believe the 
 enslavement of human beings a transgression of the divine design 
 of God towards man. We believe in the utter wickedness of bond- 
 age j and we pledge ' our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor ' 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 409 
 
 to the cause of universal freedom ; but our means of convincing 
 those in error are entirely pacific." 
 
 " I am greatly surprised, dear Mrs. Glenly ; there must be gross 
 misconstruction upon the Southern side. May I ask what are 
 those means ? " 
 
 " Certainly ! they are the moral and harmless weapons of argu- 
 ment, discussion and persuasion. We exercise the former two 
 in our families, and in conventions, as the church in its associa- 
 tions devises the best means of propagating truth. The latter we 
 use as opportunity may occur — but always, my dear Miss Wallace, 
 with the most peaceable intentions." 
 
 " We are well aware," said Caro, dropping her hemming, *' that 
 the South, as a whole, brand us as incendiaries, dangerous agita- 
 tors and fanatics." 
 
 "Also," said Mrs. Glenly, "that we have destructive designs 
 against the Union ; that we sow discord in the national councils ; 
 and that we violate the Constitution," 
 
 " That is very true," replied Leonore with great gentleness ; " our 
 Southern men profess to believe that the Northern abolitionists 
 would incite insurrection amoi>g the slaves ; that they would carry 
 death to every door. Their acerbity is the result of fear, and a 
 laudable effort for self-protection." 
 
 Fanny met this with a pithy Bible proverb, — 
 
 "'The wicked flee when no man pursueth.' I think the slave- 
 holder's conscience must pursue him, as his ferocious bloodhounds 
 pursue the flying fugitive." 
 
 Mrs. Glenly and Caro were startled. Serious alarm for their 
 guest plead in their eyes. 
 
 " I fear we are wanting in consideration for our friend ; that we 
 may give offence," said the former. 
 
 " My dear ladies, do not indulge a thought of it. It is true, I 
 have been raised mostly in the South, that I have been taught to 
 believe slavery a divine institution, sanctioned by scripture, and 
 the usages of nations; but, like yourselves, I reserve to myself the 
 right of unbiased judgment. I sought this introduction." Then 
 turning to Fanny with an approving smile, she said, " You are 
 right and wrong at the same moment, Miss Fanny. The proverb 
 is truth — but in the main, the consciences of slaveholders are, in 
 
41 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 sacred language, seared. The absolute conditions of holding one's 
 own species in bondage necessitates the blunting of every moral 
 obligation. Ah ! " and with a sigh she added, "these conditions 
 callous every tender sensibility. They feel no compunctions. 
 Instead, they feel an untamed ra^^e towards those who advocate a 
 policy of final freedom." 
 
 '• Not final, simply, or convenient delay; but immediate eman- 
 cipation," said Caro, "is our watchword. Immediate abandon- 
 ment of sin is God's alternative." 
 
 "Immediate emancipation! I shudder! Do I hear aright? 
 Immediate emancipation! Do you realize, my dear Caro, what it 
 is to cast forth, without shelter, clothing or ability millions of these 
 helpless creatures to the cruel mercies of rapacious masters? 
 Why," and she lifted her white hands in horror, " they cannot 
 speak our language clearly ; they cannot read ; they cannot think 
 for themselves ; but few of them can count even to twenty ; they 
 are reduced by our laws to the lowest of abject beings." 
 
 " Doubtless their emancipation would be attended with much 
 suffering at first; but Freedom would soon work out her own beau- 
 tiful salvation. Inspired by the blessed results of their own efforts, 
 they would work out a glorious manhood and womanhood ; equal 
 to that we ourselves enjoy." 
 
 " How^ Miss Caro ? " 
 
 "In the same way that every human capacity works out its own 
 problem. The evidence is before the world. In our cities, in 
 spite of the obstacles of Caste, which is the fruit of slavery, there 
 are colored men and women of wealth and refinement, nobly main- 
 taining an honorable standing." 
 
 "The Southerner knows that," interposed Fanny; "knows that 
 the human soul which he lashes into subjection, which he holds 
 beneath him manacled by state and national laws, would rise into 
 a proud equality with himself if those bonds were broken. Hence 
 the untamed rage, of which you made mention, towards us, the ad- 
 vocates of Freedom. For the leaders in the anti-slavery crusade, 
 there are offers of five, ten, and twenty thousand dollars for their 
 abduction or death. To such daring deeds of premeditated mur- 
 der does the spirit of human slavery induct its devotees." 
 
 Mrs. Glenly related the persecutions of the mob in New York, 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 41 1 
 
 called together by "Many Southerners" to prevent a meeting of 
 the friends of " Immediate Abolition." She drew the repulsive 
 picture of the riot at the closed gates ; of their repeated offers of 
 Ten Thousand Dollars for Arthur Tappan ; of their blood-thirsty 
 entrance, and finally of the pursuit of that gentleman through the 
 unlighted main hall of the chapel, by one of the mob, with a light 
 and a drawn dagger; of the janitor, who saw the villain, blew out 
 the light, and then took refuge in one of the slips, foiling the 'as- 
 sassin with darkness, and saving the life of one of the most Chris- 
 tian men of the century. 
 
 "The blood chills at the recital of these facts," said Leonore; 
 "but, my friends, they cannot be denied. They are a subject of 
 conversation in Charleston, my own city, and in the South gen- 
 erally. I know the name and standing of the very pursuer of ^Ir. 
 Tappan. I have seen the dagger, and heard the curses upon its 
 failure to reach the heart of its intended victim. I blush with 
 shame for the guilt of my fellow- citizens! 
 
 " It is gratifying to hear your deprecation of the high-handed 
 assumption of the South ; and yet, sanguinary impulses are but the 
 inseparable concomitants of the practice of enslavement. How is 
 it, may I inquire," gently asked ^Irs. Glenly, " that your moral per- 
 ceptions are so much clearer than those of most other Southern 
 ladies ? for (allow me to say this without offence) it is considered 
 that the women of the South are more tenacious of Southern rights 
 than the men ; that they are more violent towards Northern advo- 
 cates of Freedom." 
 
 " My moral perceptions are quite obtuse, my dear madame. I 
 only see ' men as trees walking,' yet ; " and a burst of pleasant laugh- 
 ter warmed each heart present. " My acquaintance South call this, 
 my inherent love of freedom, a 'taint in the blood.' I am a Wal- 
 lace, my dear ladies, of Scotch genealogy. On that ground they 
 generally pardon my eccentricities, as they are graciously pleased 
 to term the frank expression of my convictions. Besides, my father 
 holds many slaves, and his sturdy Scotch blood has become the 
 American blue, by frequent admixture with the highest aristocra- 
 cies of his adopted land." 
 
 Fanny dropped her work, and rested her busy hands. She was 
 finishing some pretty aprons for little dark Addie Hughes, that her 
 
412 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 dress might win to kindness the fair-skinned children of the village 
 school. She looked smilingly, but with a searching gaze into the 
 frank, blue eyes of Leonore. 
 
 " If we cherish the dawning light of truth in our thoughts, its 
 brightness will advance to the perfect day. We are judged by the 
 acceptance or refusal of this light, rather than by blood." 
 
 Leonore returned her gaze with a mingling of curiosity and ad- 
 miration. She was well versed in the suavities of social intercourse, 
 which pass smoothly over disagreeable asperities, ever preserving 
 a well-studied and deceptive calm ; but this plain^ unvarnished 
 manner of bringing subjects under discussion to the test of con- 
 science, was to her analytical turn of mind something new and in- 
 teresting. 
 
 "Faithfully expressed. Miss Fanny," said Leonore. "In the 
 South, blood stands for a catalogue of virtues — blood stands for 
 justice^ and, I imagine, for conscience. For myself, I do not value 
 this spurious coin ; but having been raised there and nurtured on 
 error, I cannot clearly discern the truth, myself." 
 
 " Fanny dear," remarked Mrs. Glenly, " let us credit Miss Wal- 
 lace with a desij-e for truth. That is the first approach to the ' per- 
 fect day.' She could have had no other object, for we never deny 
 its principles." 
 
 Fanny, fearlessly true to her own impulses, replied, — 
 
 "You know, Mrs. Glenly, one of our principles is to abjure what- 
 ever is false. Now, if Miss Wallace learn and cherish truth in her 
 own soul, of what use will it be when she returns where truth is ex- 
 pelled, and falsehood embraced .'* " 
 
 " We are to understand, then, that you would have Miss Wallace 
 not only yield to convictions of the right, but come out and sepa- 
 rate herself from the South and its practices." 
 
 " I wish to be so understood," answered Fanny, firmly. 
 
 *' Miss Wallace could not entertain for a moment the idea o£ 
 being a refugee from the most agreeable and seductive poriicn of 
 our land, I am sure. The bare suggestion would be a terror to 
 me !''' said Ida. 
 
 " I beg to correct your mistake. Miss Ida," said Leonore. " I 
 have entertained many thoughts of leaving the South. Miss 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 413 
 
 Fanny's logic is irresistible. Truth and justice find no place 
 there." 
 
 Ida persisted in the senseless flattery, by reminding Fanny of 
 the late evidence of Southern justice in that very house, and under 
 their own eyes." 
 
 Leonore would ask for information, if the request would not be 
 intrusive. 
 
 "A Southern master — yes, a Charleston master, restored a 
 young and valuable slave to liberty, and gave him a deed of him- 
 self. His guardian brought him here for a week." 
 
 " Pray what was his name ? " 
 
 " Ishmael Paisley." 
 
 " Is it possible that Issy has passed a week in this town, and 
 gone again ? Why, my dear ladies, his master's family are inti- 
 mate acquaintances. I think I should explain to you the quality of 
 this example of justice, for the facts are well known to others as 
 well as myself." 
 
 INIrs. Glenly assured Leonore that all would be happy to hear. 
 
 "Issy's master is his own father. You are shocked. Miss Fanny, 
 but it is true. Doctor Paisley's daughter, J^Iistress Theresa Val- 
 monte, knew the relation he bore to her and her father. A 
 stranger beholding them, w^ould have guessed the truth by their 
 marked resemblance to their father and to each other. At her 
 marriage, as the custom is, Issy was given to Theresa. As he grew 
 older, the family resemblance heightened ; Doctor Paisley's son and 
 pet became an annoyance. Theresa Valmonte mortgaged her 
 brother Issy for future sale, she being in pressing need of funds. 
 Doctor Paisley received a hint of this from his factor, and purchased 
 his pet son himself. Hence his free papers and guardianship. I 
 denominate that motive affection^ not justice, ladies. By justice, 
 he would free every slave impartially." 
 
 " You are right," decided Fanny and Caro in one breath. 
 
 " There is no obliquity in your natural vision ! " Miss Leonore 
 said. 
 
 Mrs. Glenly, with affectionate admiration for the brave girl who 
 offered no compromise for the fatal errors of her beloved South, 
 withdrew wdth her daughters to prepare the tea-table. 
 
 '* My dear Fanny," said Leonore, drawing near to her, " there 
 
414 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 must be a similarity between us, despite the apparent difference. 
 I like the flash of your glittering spear. I dearly love the incisive 
 utterances that fall from your lips. Your lofty conceptions of hu- 
 man obligations drop into my confused early teaching like the boom 
 of a minute gun, in a fog at sea. I envy the circumstances of your 
 birth and life, which foster purity of conscience and freedom of 
 speech." 
 
 "One more minute gun, my dear friend. You have power to 
 leave the South with all its sins, and to develope your beautifully 
 strong nature in a more moral atmosphere. That would be a 
 heroism which would reduce us abolitionists to pigmies." 
 
 " My dear Fanny," pleaded Leonore, " do you love your home, 
 the place of your birth .? I love mine. Do you love your brother, 
 and your parents.? Just so do I love mine. Do you love the 
 rush of your Northern breezes and your Northern snows ? So, I 
 love the Southern balmy airs and our flowers perpetual bloom." 
 
 " But Leonore, our Savior bade us leave all and follow Him. 
 * Whosoever loveth Christ cannot remain a slave-holder or partake 
 in the crimes of slavery.' 'If thine eye offend thee, pluck it out ; 
 if thy hand offend thee, cut it off.' " 
 
 "Ah! thou youthful seer, something divine inspires thee! I 
 love thee, though thou slayest me ! " 
 
 She hid her face in her delicate hands. Her slender, jeweled 
 fingers were wet with tear-drops. Then dashing them apart, she 
 rose nervously, and drew Fanny to the open piano. She sang an 
 Italian song, caroling the runs and trills like a lark. 
 
 The whole house was spell-bound. Mr. Glenly, in his shirt 
 sleeves, paused on the kitchen steps. ]Mrs. Glenly, butter-dish in 
 hand, stopped half way on the cellar stairs. Caro and Ida dropped 
 forks and napkins and held their breath, lest a note should be lost. 
 Again her fingers rippled over the keys, with the swiftness of hum- 
 mingbirds* wings ; again her delicious voice poured forth its sweet- 
 ness in a shower of graces. Those in the kitchen remained 
 statuesque. Fanny's expression was of rapt adoration. The last 
 high, sustained, flute-like note floated away up the stairways and 
 among the elms. 
 
 The scene was ended. Leonore whirled around on the piano* 
 seat, face to face with Fanny, 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 415 
 
 " There ! that is all I am good for ! If I leave my home, I shall 
 be disowned and disinherited, cast out friendless and penniless. 
 I cannot labor — have never learned to hold a needle. Poverty 
 would be my portion, after the life of ease and luxury which was 
 inherited with my breath. Oh ! I shudder, dear Fann}^ I could 
 not endure poverty ! " 
 
 Summoned by the tea bell. Toad stepped in quietly, to follow 
 her mistress to the table. 
 
 " Ah ! Toad ; I had forgotten that I own a slave. Remain here. 
 This young lady is my guardian angel at present." 
 
 She walked on, her arm thrown about Fanny's waist. 
 
 After tea, which Leonore discussed with social ease and gener- 
 ous praise, Caro propounded a question which opened a mine of 
 general interest. 
 
 " Who was Ishmael's mother ? " 
 
 " She was the pastry cook of Doctor Paisley — a slave of very 
 dark color," was the prompt reply, while scanning the faces of her 
 auditors She read their astonishment and incredulity ; then 
 added, "Doctor Paisley is a gentleman of commanding precedents, 
 of high-toned pride, of lineage running back to Prince Albert's 
 time. All this is supported by a copy of the ancient coat of arms, 
 carefully preserved." 
 
 A half smothered, derisive laugh rippled about the room, to 
 which Leonore gave an assuring emphasis with a jeweled finger. 
 
 Caro proposed another question. 
 
 " How is Doctor Paisley's truant course regarded by other high- 
 toned Southern gentlemen .? I should judge he would incur their 
 displeasure and sever some valuable intimacies." 
 
 " Not in the least, Miss Caro ; a tacit assent to these departures 
 is prevalent." 
 
 " Yet v.-e of the North," said Mrs. Glenly, " are flagrantly 
 accused of desiring amalgamation by marriage, which they denomi- 
 nated a crime, detestable in their sight ; while they practice the 
 same in a surreptitious form of concubinage." 
 
 *' Another smooth stone for my sling," thought Fanny. 
 
 Conversation flagged. Mrs. Glenly proposed to drop the dis- 
 agreeable subject. There was more of Leonore's wonderful music. 
 There were the simple ballads and duets of the Glenlys. Last of 
 
41 6 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 all, there was the " Brides Farewell," by Fanny, charmed away to 
 the piano by Leonore, after the vain remonstrance, — 
 
 "How can I sing to a song-throated bird of the South?" and 
 receiving the answer, — 
 
 " Sing as you talk to me. Sing like yourself." 
 
 At Fanny's first line, 
 
 " Farewell, mother, now I leave thee," 
 
 the proud face of the beautiful girl blanched. Through the remain- 
 ing lines, it seemed that Fanny was playing upon her heartstrings. 
 Her agitation was observed by the other ladies, but they knew not 
 the secret of Leonore's agitation ; knew not that her thoughts were 
 far away in her native city ; that she stood not by the piano, but by 
 a student's chair in her uncle's office, looking down into the pure, 
 adoring eyes of its young occupant. They suspected not that she 
 was bracing herself for the future struggle with the unbending 
 pride and unforgiving caste of her native State, in the determination 
 to marry the young Northern student-at-law in her uncle's office, 
 to whom she had already given her heart. . 
 
 Each attributed the change in Leonore to fatigue ; therefore, in 
 the midst of the last verse, the performer was interrupted by Mrs. 
 Glenly, standing by, — 
 
 " Fanny dear, excuse me. Miss Wallace is weary ;" and with her 
 arm about the pale girl, she drew her to the sofa, saying, " Our ad- 
 amantine creed has been too exciting for you, darling. Come 
 away, let us talk about blackberries." 
 
 Her color returned. She replied, — 
 
 " Oh ! certainly, let us talk about blackberries ; for I so desire to 
 go myself after them." 
 
 ''Miss Wallace can ride *Marmion' to the field, and we will 
 walk beside her. Her servant, Toad, can pick her berries while 
 she rests in the shade," said Ida. 
 
 " Oh ! no, Miss Ida, by no means. You mistake me. I shall 
 walk with the party, and share the pleasure of picking the berries, 
 myself. I am endeavoring to become partially Northernized this 
 
 summer." 
 
 So in great glee the field was selected where the berries were 
 thickest, and the time appointed. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 417 
 
 When taking leave of the family, Leonore thanked Mrs. Glenly 
 for the day's enjoyment. She had never before entered an anti- 
 slavery family. She had found her views most happily modified. 
 Soliciting an interchange of visits and calls during her stay, 
 taking Fanny's hand for the good-night, she said affectionately, — 
 
 " Remember you have a Southerner under your eye ; make the 
 most of the opportunity." 
 
 A great wave of gossip tided over the village of West Elms. 
 Women left their churns and their early breakfast dishes, to loiter 
 over the garden fences separating the white houses, and talk, with 
 bursts of gayety and ominous gestures over the late event. Girls 
 gathered in knots on the door steps, or along the green-bordered 
 street, and fairly lost their breath with merriment over the rapid 
 details. Men in the fields, in their shirt sleeves, leaned on their 
 hoes or rakes amid the harvest, repeating the hearsay, holding 
 their stalwart sides with laughter. 
 
 *' Have you heard the news .? " saj^s one. 
 
 " No, what is it ? " 
 
 " Mrs. Donald's house is full of Southerners and slaves. That 
 young lady's mother has come ; that Miss Wallace, you know, that 
 rides the black pony. Well, there's her mother and her brother, 
 a tall handsome man, a black waiting-man for him, and a mulatto 
 maid for Mrs. Wallace. They came in an elegant carriage with 
 a pair of horses. There's the black coachman, dressed in livery, 
 and a young, brown footman. So with Miss Leonore Wallace's 
 servant, there's three Southerners and five slaves." 
 
 " Oh ! you don't say. The house must be full ; too full for me." 
 
 " But that is not the best of it all. Now hear. You see they came 
 unexpected, and Miss Wallace had a party of girls there — amongst 
 them, the abolitionist Glenlys and their visitor. They had all been 
 blackberrying and were picking over the berries. Leonore ran to 
 the carriage with her hands stained with the juice. Her mother 
 uttered interjectional screams, and cried, — 
 
 " < What is the matter with my daughter's hands ? ' 
 
 "'Oh ! I've just been blackberrying, mamma.' 
 
 " ' My daughter Leonore will condescend to degrade herself in 
 this manner ! I am mortified beyond expression with your vul- 
 garity ! ' 
 
4l8 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " ' What silly ideas ! Vulgarity indeed, then we are vulgar ar 
 West Elms,' and the speaker s lips pursed up with wounded self- 
 respect. 
 
 " Hear the rest. It is too ridiculous. Mrs. Wallace actually 
 entered the house weeping over the blackberry stains. After 
 ordering her hands washed and bathed in the 'milk of roses,' she 
 examined them again — then horror of horrors ! " 
 
 At this point of the pretty scandal, they were inevitably seized 
 with convulsive laughter, breaking up the relation into in coher- 
 ency. 
 
 " Do tell what happened next ! ha ! ha ! ha ! " 
 
 " Oh ! let me breathe. There. I've laughed myself to tears. 
 Now hush. As I was saying, she examined the fingers, and found 
 marks on the joints, and the cuticle broken in various places. 
 
 " ' Alas ! my daughter, what is this ? ' turning very pale. 
 
 " ' A trifle, mamma. I have been washing a few embroideries 
 and laces. Among the Romans, do as the Romans do.' 
 
 " 'Leonore ! I command you to cease these offensive comparisons. 
 Do you compare the incomparable Romans with the labor-soiled, 
 grovelling Northerners ; and must you grovel with them .? The 
 idea is repugnant to every feeling in my breast. Look at these 
 once delicate hands, bruised and torn, ragged and defaced. What 
 an infamy. Alas ! Leonore ; have you abandoned every claim to 
 your ancestral dignity ? ' " 
 
 "Sublimely ridiculous ! " ejaculated the listeners. " So we have 
 blue blood in our town. Lackada}^ what a pity." 
 
 " Leave your laughter now, and hear me through. Put on your 
 solemn faces. Let your hearts ache. The woman fell over the 
 arm of the sofa and actually began to faint, a fitting climax to such 
 acting. After being brought to, by the use of salts, she sent post 
 haste for the doctor, declared to him that the alarming state of 
 Leonore would deprive her of sleep, if he did not remedy her con- 
 dition immediately." 
 
 "What did the man do? He should have prescribed another 
 healthy dose of washing, as the best restorative." 
 
 " Oh, he put on his official solemnity, and swathed Leonore's 
 fingers in medicated fine linen. She is under the doctor's daily 
 care at last reports. Ha ! ha ! ha ! " 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 419 
 
 ■" Ha ! ha ! ha ! " all round. 
 
 Farmer Bing down in the meadow, went on whetting his scythe 
 while he listened ; and, as his bare, brawny arm plied to and fro 
 on the ringing blade, his white, firm teeth gleamed slowly out from 
 his pleased lips, and his keen eyes beamed under his sun-browned 
 hat. When all was told, before his mouth had returned to its 
 gravity, he said, — 
 
 " Well, I guess we ought to give that Southern girl that rides 
 that little black horse, some credit. I b'lieve it'll take a good deal 
 of that nonsensical palaver to make her \vhat her mother wants 
 her to be. She's got a noble, good look in her face. She dropped 
 her whip in the road once, this summer. I was coming along with 
 a load of hay, and picked it up for her. She thanked me as pretty 
 as if she had been my own girl. Then she said I had a fine load 
 of hay, and asked me if she might ride down in the meadow with 
 me when I came back. I told her to go out to the bars, and wait 
 till I came, and then she rode clear down to the river, her horse 
 side by side with the oxen, asking me questions all the way." 
 
 " She's got spunk enough for 'em, too. After she got in the 
 field, she says, — 
 
 " ' May I ride anywhere ? ' 
 
 "Says I, 'Yes, anywhere I've mowed.' 
 
 " So she tossed her hat on to a hay-cock, and went galloping 
 round bare-headed, like a circus rider. That pony and she ca- 
 pered about like children. I guess I shall have to stand by her." 
 
 This gossip was nevertheless truth. Leonore's fingers were 
 bound with balms and mollifying ointments. Her outgoings and 
 incomings were made under the sharp espoinage of her high caste 
 mother. 
 
 The Glenlys and Fanny fled from Mrs. Donald's rooms, with the 
 rest of the blackberry party. Mrs. Gienly comforted the refugees 
 by showing them that these various expressions of Southern life 
 were the very best lessons they could have, as they were drawn 
 from Nature. 
 
 The termination of Fanny's visit drew near. Just the day be- 
 fore the one appointed for leaving, the family welcomed again with 
 pleasant surprise the Friend, ]Mr. Sterlingworth. 
 
 " I was at East Elms," he said, " and was attracted hither for a 
 
42 O WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 day by the agreeable memory of my week here with Ishmael." 
 
 " Where is Ishmael ? " sprang from all lips. 
 
 ''With a family near Boston ; thy brother Richard's suggestion, 
 Fanny ; " and his glance turned full upon her ; neither was it 
 quickly withdrawn, but lingered like the glory of a summer sunset, 
 till Fanny's eyes dropped upon her folded hands, leaving her face 
 suffused with the hues of a pinken shell. Nevertheless the inter- 
 viewing proceeded in a lively manner by the rest of the family, 
 while Fanny pondered upon a new mystery of life just opened to 
 her view. 
 
 During the day she found herself frequently conning this mys- 
 tery. She had not the baneful experience of the world, which maps 
 out the ways of heart and soul before the inexperienced traveler. 
 Despite her outspoken sense of justice, she undervalued herself, in 
 the extreme humility to which she had attained. So the new mys- 
 terious lesson became a different one. 
 
 " Strange ! " she found herself soliloquizing, " I have dreaded 
 this last day of my stay at West Elms ; the parting with Caro and 
 dear Mrs. Glenly; and yet this is the happiest day of my visit. 
 Ah ! " she said to herself religiously, " it is my deceitful heart ! 
 ever leading I know not whither ! I am never what I seem ! My 
 feet will stray in by and forbidden paths." 
 
 In one of these customary attacks of abstraction, while her ab- 
 sent eye wandered among the tops of the street elms, a familiar 
 voice recalled her. 
 
 " Come, Fanny ! thy thoughts seem to soar away with the birds ! 
 come back to earth ! Let us take a farewell stroll to the orchard, 
 and then to the river." 
 
 Ere she was aware, her fingers were laid timidly on the arm of 
 Mr. Sterlingworth, and both were threading the mazes of red and 
 golden fruit. Nature appeared more beautiful to her than ever 
 before. The sky, the hills, the orchard and the river distilled a 
 new and strange delight. Mr. Sterlingworth also seemed to her to 
 have found a fresh interest in all she held dear ; his gentle words 
 flowed out in harmony wdth her every thought. 
 
 " So thou takest the early stage for home to-morrow, Fanny. Hast 
 thou traveled much alone ? " 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 421 
 
 " Never before, sir. But the distance is short. There is but 
 one change in the stages — at East Elms." 
 
 " Wilt thou allow me the honor and pleasure of being thy com- 
 panion and protector ? " 
 
 " I could not consent to give you that trouble, sir." 
 
 "I have business in Cloudspire, Fanny." 
 
 He paused on the lawn before the house — for they had re- 
 turned — and then in tones which added music to his words he 
 said, — 
 
 " It would be more than a pleasure, I assure thee." 
 
 The next morning the burly stage-driver hauled up his four-in- 
 hand before the Glenly gate. It is needless to dwell upon the 
 happy security Fanny felt in being handed into the lumbering 
 vehicle by the strong and ready arms of her friend ; and amidst 
 the strange and crowded faces to know that Mr. Sterlingworth was 
 at her side. His delightful conversation, too, relieved the tedium 
 of the rocking, jolting miles. She even found the journey too 
 short; when the crack of the driver's whip brought the panting 
 horses galloping up the hill, and round the curve in front of the 
 old tavern and its loungers at Alderbank. 
 
 It must also be acknowledged that Fanny felt a certain proud 
 satisfaction in being handed out by a gentleman whose figure and 
 presence demanded the respect of the bystanders. Truly she felt 
 gratified for his protection, when he drew her arm within his and 
 led her to the sitting-room, up the dingy steps, through the track- 
 begrimmed entry, past the noisy opened door of the bar-room ; and 
 in the knowledge that her baggage would be withdrawn from the 
 confused pile on the stage without her interference. 
 
 Surprise took the place of other emotions, when after the bustle 
 of departure, he entered the apartment, and with the same tender- 
 ness she had observed on the morning of his arrival at West Elms, 
 said, — 
 
 " With thy permission Fanny, I will attend thee home." 
 
 He drew her hand upon his arm. In a sweet confusion of bash- 
 ful timidity, she walked by his side up the long street. To the 
 prying eyes in door-ways and curtained windows along their route, 
 and to gossiping tongues, we leave the significance of his errand. 
 
422 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 MRS. BUDDINGTON and Alfy stood at the east window 
 looking eagerly up the road for Thad. It was nearing 
 Christmas. Winter had made several aggressive skirmishes on the 
 dallying autumn days, till the ruddy-haired nymphs fled out of sight, 
 leaving their late glorious domain to his pale rigor. Snow was 
 falling. The vision of the watchers extended but a short distance 
 through the atmosphere, thick with the feathery shower. 
 
 " Mother, don't you think the snow is beautiful .'* See, every- 
 thing is so white ; the barn, the shed are roofed anew. Every 
 fence-rail, ev^ery branch and twig are heaped with it. Mother, 
 don't you like it? " 
 
 " Yes, my son, I do admire it. Snow is like a pure veil, covering 
 every object offensive to the eye. After a winter snowstorm, it 
 seems we have a new earth. Observe those hemlocks, Alfy ; they 
 seem to have put on white mantles." 
 
 He leaned his head on his mother's shoulder, and threw an arm 
 about her neck. 
 
 *• Shall we have any snow in Texas, mother ? " 
 
 " No, my son ; no snow, no ice. The climate will appear to us 
 like perpetual summer. The sun will ride higher than here, in the 
 bluest of heavens. We shall have a greater variety of flowers, 
 larger and more splendid. I expect these blue eyes will be busy 
 enough with the blossoms, the gay butterflies and bright birds.** 
 She turned to look into those eyes, ever calm and sunny. 
 
 " Father will be better there too, mother." 
 
 "We hope so, my son ; his health is the prime object of our 
 removal. We hope the balmy airs of the South will be strengthen- 
 mcr to his fragile constitution." 
 
 " He must be there now, mother ; and it will seem to him like 
 spring amongst the flowers, butterflies and birds. I guess he 
 misses us among the fiery Southerners and Mexicans. I guess he'd 
 like to be at home with us to-night. Don't you wish he was here, 
 mother ? " 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 423 
 
 "Home is no home without father, my boy." A tear dropped 
 upon the hair of Alfy. " No man ever loved his wife and children 
 more than he. Ho'wever, we must submit to a short separation 
 now, that death may not rob us of him too soon. He may live a 
 long life in Texas. I should be satisfied with a letter at present ; 
 we have not had any news from father and uncle George for five 
 
 " Mother, why did he and uncle George go to Texas ? why not 
 go to some other place South ? I find Texas on my map, and it's 
 farther off than Georgia and Alabama." 
 
 " Well, because it is a new country ; land is cheap, and new 
 settlers are welcomed. There are, also, excellent prairie-grazing 
 grounds for cattle. Raising stock requires no hard labor, like 
 tilling this rocky New England soil. Flocks of cattle require only 
 a herdsman to ride about after them. They take care of them^ 
 selves ; need no hay, no barns. Then the sun there does the work 
 of a farmer here ; vegetation asks no nursing from the worn-out 
 
 laborer." t, j r 
 
 " But, mother, father has not money enough to buy a herd ot 
 
 cattle." 
 
 " Uncle George has ; he will help father to make a fair start. 
 Uncle George can buffet with the rough world better than^ father, 
 too. Dear father will find strength and support in^ George.'' 
 " Where were they when we got the last letter ? " ^ 
 *' They were on the Ohio river, between Cincinnati and the Mis- 
 sissippi." , . , 1- .1 TJ- 
 
 " That will suit Thad, to ride over the plains herding cattle. He 
 likes cattle —and he likes to ride fiery horses. He says he's going 
 to be a stage-driver, mother," an idea at which Alfy laughed loudly, 
 
 forcing his mother to join. , . , t 
 
 ''The life of a herdsman will satisfy Thad's roving humor, I 
 think ; and perhaps Alfy would like a pony to ride also. _ I^^expect 
 these two violet eyes, and this fair hair will need that tonic. ihe 
 fond mother dropped two kisses on the tender lids. 
 
 " The snow is falling faster, mother." ^ , , n-u ^ 
 
 " And it is growing darker. I cannot imagine what delays ihad. 
 The roads are tilled with snow ; old Ned must find it hard traveling, 
 dragging wheels through the clogging ruts." 
 
424 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 The mother turned away ; but the anxious eyes of Alfy took 
 another survey of the road. 
 
 " ^Mother, I see something coming ; the horse is walking." 
 
 Mrs. Buddington went to the window again. 
 
 " That's Ned ; but there's two in the wagon. Perhaps he's 
 bringing home a neighbor."' 
 
 She Hghted candles, looked after the supper, waiting by the fire 
 on the hearth. Ned soon came round the house, tired and wet 
 with sweat. Alfy met him on the steps. 
 
 " What makes you so late, Thad .'* " 
 
 " Had to go further," was the short reply. 
 
 "Where.?" 
 
 "I'll tell you all about it when I come in. Hurry and light the 
 lantern. Father said we must be kind to * Ned,' and he's tired 
 and hungry." 
 
 There was something ominous in Thad's voice, which Alfy felt, 
 but could not define. The passenger sprang out of the wagon, and 
 laid a heavy gloved hand familiarly on Alfy's shoulder. 
 
 " Don't know Uncle George } How do you do ? and how is 
 mother ? " 
 
 Alfy noticed something strange in his uncle's voice ; also the tone 
 was more affectionate than formerlv. 
 
 " Tell mother I've gone to the barn, to help Thad put up 'Ned ;* 
 you must bring out the lantern." 
 
 He was glad to have a small extension of time, before the sad 
 meeting which awaited his entrance to the home of his brother. 
 
 With a beating heart and bewildered step, Mrs. Buddington drew 
 out the fall-leaf table, spread the white damask cover, and set out 
 the best china. A trembling hand set the extra plate. Her con- 
 fused sight could scarcely distinguish one jar of preserves from 
 another. She sta^srered down the cellar stairs where she had last 
 seen her husband at w^ork, storing the products of the farm. It 
 seemed like a tomb; but she carried up the Christmas loaf, of which 
 her husband was fond, and which she had made for the boys, in 
 his memory. She was bending over the hearth to take up the late 
 supper, when the stamping of feet in the entry announced their 
 coming. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 425 
 
 " What news will he bring ? " she said to herself. " Where is 
 James ? How can I ask .? " 
 
 Her head swam and she sank into a chair. The whole family- 
 strove to maintain a superficial composure during the meal, and 
 succeeded. General inquiries of health and weather were answered 
 in a general manner. Oracular premonitions of a deep sorrow fell 
 about the mother, like the falling snow. The moaning winter wind 
 struck desolation to her heart, yet she only said, as they rose from 
 the table, — 
 
 " Thad, where did you find your uncle ? " 
 
 His uncle answered for him. 
 
 " I knew he would go to the post-office, often. I wrote to the 
 post-master from New York, to send Thad on to the ' old tavern,' 
 to meet and bring me here. He has had a long ride in the snow. 
 I came back, Mary, on unexpected business." 
 
 "Where did you leave James ? " 
 
 " At the last place where we stopped. Let us have the table 
 aside ; when we gather round the fire, I will explain my visit." 
 
 Alfy followed his mother about, assisting. In the pantry he 
 whispered, — 
 
 " Why didn't father come ? Will Uncle George go back soon ? " 
 
 " I cannot tell, my son ; it is all as strange to me, as to you." 
 
 The work was done ; they gathered, anxiously, about the bright 
 fire. 
 
 " Mary, James has been sick — unable to travel." 
 
 " I fear that is not all the message you bear ! " answered Mary 
 in a tremulous voice. " Is he well again } or who attends to him 
 among strangers ? " 
 
 '• James needs no care at present. He had the best of womanly 
 care from the hands of the lady who stopped on her journey for 
 this purpose." 
 
 " George Buddington, my husband is dead. Tell me the truth !" 
 she ejaculated, while tears flowed down her pale face. Her pitiful 
 moans filled the room. The distress of the beloved mother roused 
 her sons, and their childish sobbing joined hers. 
 
 The brother made no haste to reply; he could not trust his own 
 voice ; he waited for this first outbreak of feeling to spend itself. 
 
426 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Exhausted grief would listen more calmly. The task he had to 
 perform required a serene subjection of his own grief, and the bit- 
 ter recollections of its cause. While eno:ao:ed in the hard strife 
 with himself, the tempest of weeping lessened. She addressed him 
 
 again. 
 
 "Tell me. Brother George, the whole truth ; delay is no relief. 
 Where is James ? " 
 
 " He sleeps peacefully — he is at rest, where no apprehension of 
 evil nor the turmoil of earth can ever disturb him more. Control 
 yourselves as much as possible. All times and seasons are in the 
 hands of Him who both giveth and taketh life. He onlv knows 
 how I have dreaded to be the messenger of these tidings to you, 
 Mary, and the dear boys." 
 
 Alfy threw himself moaning, upon the floor. The pent-up sor- 
 row of Thad burst forth uncontrolled. Uncle George, whose grief 
 had a deeper source than they yet knew, joined his tears with 
 theirs. Stunned by the overwhelming blow, the mother and her 
 sons sat speechless around the winter hearth ; each mind picturing 
 to itself the cruel grave among strangers, in a lonely, far-off 
 land. 
 
 George Buddington studiously withheld the unsuspicioned and 
 shocking cause of his death. He spoke little, leaving the heart- 
 rending dmouejjiejit iox a future day. It was enough for the stricken 
 wife to know that the beloved husband of her youth was dead. 
 That one word had enough of poignancy for the present. Another 
 hand more skillful than his should reopen the wound, and lay 
 upon its throbbing pain the leaves of healing. Other lips, gentle 
 and loving, should narrate the horrid truths. " Not I ! " He 
 thought to himself. 
 
 " I could not comfort, or soothe with patient words. I should 
 curse — hotly curse his murderers. I should anathematize the bru- 
 tal fiends, who beat out, with the bloody lash, my brother's frail, 
 unoffending life. I should curse the Constitution, in which the 
 Southerner crystalized his own diabolical wishes. I should curse 
 a religion that allows its priesthood to minister to the infernal, 
 blood-thirsty oligarchy of the South. I should curse the heavens 
 above, that would receive the fainting spirit of James, threshed 
 from his bleeding body, by the diabolical flails of Southern torture. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. • 42*^ 
 
 without Striking down the guilty actors with the fiery bolts of Divine 
 Justice." 
 
 Scarce thinking of himself, he raised both arms to join his hands 
 against the back of his head, as a support, when sharp twinges of 
 pain quickly recalled his own flagellation, and the still sore, un- 
 healed welts upon his own person. His arms dropped suddenly. 
 With a bitter groan, he rose and slowly paced the kitchen floor. 
 
 Hearing this, and observing the unnatural flush that burned like 
 a flaming fire on his pale face, Mrs. Buddington asked with con- 
 cern, if he were not suffering from fever ; perhaps from the same 
 fever that might have overtaken James ; and was there not a West- 
 ern fever fatal to Eastern residents ? " 
 
 He had heard so ; was not well informed ; thought his brother 
 feverish before his death ; was not feverish himself, only fatigued 
 with travel. Thus he calmed her fears and walked on, apparently 
 listening to the cold, soughing wind and the pattering snow on the 
 panes. Thad had thrown himself on the floor by the side of his 
 brother, before the bright fire, and childhood's sweet sleep of for- 
 getfulness had sealed their grieving eyes. 
 
 " Sister Mary," said George, " a lady will come here to inform 
 and comfort you respecting James' sickness and death ; the one who 
 attended him in his last sickness. She lives in New York, and in- 
 sisted upon coming to embrace you and offer solacing words. She 
 will prove an angel of peace to you, as she did to James. But you 
 should not be alone till even then. I propose to send Thad to- 
 morrow morning with a note to Filette Snow, to come immediately 
 here to take the household burden from your distracted thoughts ; 
 also, that she may be a cheerful companion to you all. 
 
 There was no sleep for James' stricken wife the live-long night. 
 Mr. Buddington bore her company through the long, dreary hours ; 
 kept the fire burning brightly, and by his unruffled serenity, calmed 
 ^the wild outbursts of her trembling soul. He covered the sleeping 
 brothers, on the floor, with blankets, passed out into the drifting 
 snow and in again, to break the dread stillness. He made in- 
 quiries concerning the neighbors and the clergyman — thus lead- 
 ing her meditations, at intervals, away from the dead. 
 
 When the first crimson rays of morning barred the shroud-like 
 snow, a light knocking called him to the door. It was Mrs. Bud- 
 
428 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 dington's neighbor Brown, from the snug home dowr. the hill. 
 Surprise lifted his gray brows, as he pressed George's proffered 
 hand. 
 
 " I beg pardon for this early intrusion, Mr. Buddington. Wife 
 has kept a watchful eye on this house since James went to Texas ; 
 she has seen a light in the wmdows several times in the night, and 
 hurried me up here to see if Mary or the boys are sick. There is 
 no need now. Is your brother James well.? Is he within } " 
 
 He was invited in, and he gave all a kindly greeting. He 
 learned that the shadow of death darkened the hitherto joyful 
 hearth. With a misty voice he spoke of the better land, and 
 another happy dweller there ; and that, by and by, imitating his 
 exemplary life, those who wait below may meet the lost above. 
 There was balm in his words and manner. He offered himself and 
 sleigh to go for Filette Snow, remarking it would be too cold and 
 hard a ride for Thad, and too much for old Ned. His horse was 
 young and strong, and was as fond of breaking paths as an engine 
 on the railroad track. 
 
 He took a sealed note from Mr. George, explaining all. 
 
 Filette came to the door, ringing out her usual merry laugh. 
 
 " Why, you look like a miller, IMr. Brown ; you are powdered 
 white. Did the colt throw 3'ou out .'' or did he sift the snow over 
 you himself ? Come in to the lire. Now that ' gude wife ' of yours, 
 will have to eat those delightful pies and cakes without the 
 tailoress, for I'm just going to fiy away in another direction. Did 
 you come for me ? Why, what's the matter, Mr. Brown ? Has any- 
 thing happened? " 
 
 " I have a letter for you." 
 
 She looked at it archly, saying, — 
 
 " I do not know the hand-writing." 
 
 " Read it, Filette," he said, in a voice strangely grave. The 
 entreaty sounded to the gay girl like a rebuke. With a sobered 
 eye she scanned his staid face rapidly, and retired from the circle 
 about the blazing hearth to a chair by the window. Once more 
 she curiously turned the letter in her fingers, with an air as puzzled 
 as if she were about to remedy a mistake in one of the garments 
 her hands turned off so readily. 
 
 The half sheet of foolscap was neatly folded in letter form, and 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 429 
 
 sealed with a wafer. The bold, handsomely turned letters of her 
 name rarely met her gaze in that attractive form. The secret was 
 inside. Breaking the seal, she sought first the name of her cor- 
 respondent. There, in letters as handsomely turned as those of 
 her own name, she read with a suddenly throbbing heart, " Yours 
 respectfully, George Buddington." 
 
 The perennial roses of her round, healthy face deepened into 
 velvety crimson. The pale, rosy wine of young life's sweetest 
 hopes mounted to temple and brow ; for a moment the tidied 
 kitchen and its busily talking inmates swam like a receding vision. 
 At first, the name was all she pondered ; to this holy oriflamme of 
 her soul's secret adoration, her charmed eyes were fastened. She 
 questioned, — 
 
 " Where was he ? Had he remembered her on his far-off jour- 
 ney ? Ah ! was it possible ? She would know," and sought the 
 place of address. "No, he is here in Connecticut, at James' 
 homestead." 
 
 Her pulses perversely quickened, as if they were well informed 
 of what she herself had not acknowledged. With some effort she 
 steadied the paper in her hands, reading, — 
 
 •' Miss Snow, — You will doubtless be surprised to learn that I have so soon 
 returned from the Texan journey. I am here from a mournful necessity. My 
 brother was not equal to the task imposed. After an unlooked-for and fatal 
 sickness, I left him in his grave in Indiana, and returned to break the nev^s to 
 Mary, and to stay up the stricken family. I write in behalf of Mary this morn- 
 ing, asking that as an expression of the sympathy you feel for her, you will come 
 immediately to her side, and with your strong, cheering presence, and with physi- 
 cal aid in her domestic cares, you may assist her to bear the heavy burden 
 which has fallen to her lot. Come immediately. Your remuneration shall be 
 sufficient to cover all losses of time from professional engagements. 
 
 " Respectfully yours, George Buddington." 
 
 The roses faded ; the flushed brow whitened — they had been 
 touched by sympathetic sorrow, and like the leaves of the Mimosa, 
 shrank beneath it. Selfish emotions, however sweet, gave way to 
 the sisterly affections cherished for James' wife. She went to the 
 pantry, where her mother was busy with morning's milk and cream, 
 laid a hand upon her shoulder, saying, — 
 
 *' James Buddington is dead. Mary is left a widow ; her boys 
 are fatherless." 
 
430 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Mrs. Snow dropped the skimmer laden with cream into the pan, 
 and asked again what Filette said. 
 
 *.' James Buddington is dead, mother, and Mary is desolate." 
 She leaned against the shelves, answering with the calmness which 
 only is gained by long experience in life. 
 
 " This is terrible news, Filette ; but Heaven is a better place 
 than Texas, with all its blue skies, birds and flowers," 
 
 "But, mother, how Mary and the boys loved James." 
 
 "Oh yes, death is ever cruel. But if James had gone there, he 
 might have lost his soul if he had recovered health." Her voice 
 fell to a whisper. " Nobody can take up their abode among slave- 
 holders ; (and those in Texas are nothing better than heartless 
 brigands — robbers of the natural rights of Mexico) I say, no man 
 can live among slave-holders, assimilating his interests with theirs, 
 as residents of a section must do, without becoming assimilated 
 also in soul and principle. James' beautiful boys would have 
 changed to bloody, irritable slave-masters. Filette, it may shock 
 you, but if this is the only way to prevent his abode in that un- 
 manageable den of thieves, I say reverently, ' God's will be done ! " * 
 
 " Mary has sent for me, mother." 
 
 She read her letter. 
 
 " Go, my child. Carry Mary in your arms through this fiery 
 trial." She left her cream, and went about bringing her daughter's 
 cloak, hood and wrappings. " Filette," she said, " sit by the stove 
 and warm you. It's a long, cold ride. I will gather up what you 
 will need during your stay." 
 
 The return was made almost in silence. 
 
 Neither Mr. Brown or Filette knew more than the simple facts 
 stated in the letter. Filette was revolving thoughts which had no 
 reference to the gray-headed man by her side, and which were 
 scarcely intelligible to herself. As she turned the subject con- 
 fusedly this way and that, prismatic hues shot forth, enveloping it 
 in the colors of the iris. Rainbows gave place to the shadow of 
 sorrow and the gloom of James' freshly made grave. The whitened 
 landscape, the dazzling sunlight, the colt plunging through drifts, 
 and the skurrying snow were familiar to both, claiming no atten- 
 tion ; and in the midst of her reveries the sleigh bells ceased ring- 
 ing. They were at Mary's door. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 43 1 
 
 Before the arrival was realized, a deep subdued voice bade 
 Filette "Good-morning;" two strong arms lifted her from the nest 
 among the buffalos, to the clean-swept step-stone. She raised her 
 face to say "Thank 3^ou." The same fascinating hazel eyes which 
 had haunted her memory since they vanished up the green-bor- 
 dered road, weeks before, met hers again, their tender sheen melt- 
 ing into her fluttering heart. 
 
 *• Miss Snow, I am under many obligations for this quick reply 
 to my note. Sister Mary needs you much." 
 
 She entered the kitchen, where Deacon Brown's wife had finished 
 clearing up the breakfast table. Mary hastened to meet her friend, 
 and while tears rained afresh, exclaimed, — 
 
 "James is dead ! " 
 
 Filette held Mary in a long embrace, saying, — 
 
 "I know all — you can but grieve — tears are the best relief. 
 My heart bleeds for you and the poor boys." 
 
 Then while Mary went on sobbing, she bent low to her ear. 
 
 "Mother sent you a message — this is it. 'We all are but dust, 
 and heaven is better than earth. ^ And Mary, you know you and I 
 believe that God is good. That comprehends more than we can 
 make clear to ourselves." 
 
 " But James is so far away in that lonely grave, among stran- 
 gers," soliloquized Mary. 
 
 "That is true," replied Mrs. Brown; but the All-seeing Eye that 
 knoweth when a sparrow falls will much more watch his dust for 
 you. Your agony will not be forgotten. After the sharp pangs 
 are past, which all must feel at the sudden loss of a friend, He 
 will bind up your bruised spirit; He will give you peace for mourn- 
 ing." 
 
 " Think Mary," added Filette, '• how many of earth's beloved lie 
 in unknown graves of the sea. How many close their eyes for- 
 ever, and bid adieu to earth on the merciless battle-field, and are 
 hurried into trenches, unknown and unwept. James had a brother 
 at his side, who cared tenderly for his last hours. Let that com- 
 fort you." 
 
 George entered with Thad and Alfy, who followed him about as 
 if he were their only protector. Hearing Filette's efforts at sooth- 
 ing his sister-in-law, he added, — 
 
432 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " Heaven sent an angel to his sick bed, in the person of a lady 
 traveler who was returning to New York with her husband and 
 servant, from a Western tour. They put up at the same inn ; and 
 learning that we were Eastern men, she insisted upon halting until 
 the crisis should be over. Night and day, she sat by his bedside f 
 made wdth her own hands various kinds of nourishment which 
 could not have been obtained at a country inn. The proprietor 
 and his wife, pleased with the distinguished patronage of herself 
 and husband, granted all her wishes. Mary could not have nursed 
 him more considerately, herself. When all w^as over, she, with her 
 noble husband, dressed the body for the grave. More, they went 
 to a neighboring village, and purchased flowers, here and there, 
 from plants in the windows, and with evergreen, wove a floral cross 
 for the coffin. She even borrowed a crape bonnet and veil, tied a 
 badge of mourning on her husband's arm, and followed James with 
 me, as mourners, to his grave." 
 
 " Heaven will bless her for that," said Mrs. Brown. 
 
 " She is even coming here to make acquaintance with Mary ; to 
 speak of James, and bear a message from his dying lips." 
 
 "When will she come ? " asked Filette. 
 
 " One week from the time I arrived. We will offer her a warm 
 welcome, Mary. You will be tranquilized by her visit. She will 
 remain one week," said George. 
 
 By the close of the interval week before the reception of the 
 guest, every preparation possible in a plain, country farm-house, 
 was perfected. By George's suggestion, the bird's eye maple bed- 
 stead was brought down from the cold chamber, and placed in the 
 parlor, where was a bright carpet of warm scarlet and green, and a 
 polished stove, which would furnish summer temperature. The 
 white toilet table was brought down also, and placed under the mir- 
 ror, which, together with the high bed draped in white, gave the 
 room as snug and comfortable an air as one could desire. So said 
 George Buddington. 
 
 Cream, mince and apple pies, glorying in the flakiest crust ; and 
 cakes with icing as white as the snowy fields — the handi-work 
 of Filette, awaited the almost dreaded arrival — for Mary said, 
 what with her grief and country manners, she could not expect to 
 entertain a lady so delicate and refined. The extreme poignancy of 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 433 
 
 bereavement had become deadened, to a degree, by Filette's wise 
 cheerfulness and the occupied days. A quiet resignation was per- 
 ceptibly gaining ascendency in the broken family circle. 
 
 Near the close of the day appointed for the lady's arrival, which 
 was bright and cold, there were many eyes looking up the road. 
 Thad and Alfy had held several private conferences through the 
 day, on the lady from New York — added to much speculation on 
 her wealth and appearance and the object of her visit. Each was 
 desirous of having his own judgment prove the most correct ; there- 
 fore, the window commanding the snowy road was not left for a 
 moment without a sentinel. 
 
 " It's near sunset ; they ought to be near," said Alfy. 
 
 " Oh, it's a long way to the old Red Tavern where the stage 
 stops, and the lady would want to go in and warm, before she got 
 in the cutter with Uncle George," answered Thad. 
 
 " Wasn't that a nice string of bells Thad, that Uncle George 
 borrowed for the colt ; they reached clear round him, and made 
 such fine music." 
 
 '• Yes, they're just the kind of bells as I'm going to have when I 
 own horses. I'll have two jet black ones, like Lone Star, and a 
 string of bells just like them on each one." 
 
 '• There ! they're coming now, Alf. I'm going to drive the colt 
 down the hill to Mr. Brown's. You want to go, Alf ? " 
 
 " No, I want to stay and see the lady." 
 
 The meeting was cordial on both sides ; but on the stranger's 
 part, it was like the recognition of long-absent friends. She 
 embraced Mary with unaffected and sisterly sympathy, imprinting 
 a warm kiss upon her pale brow. She had a kiss also for Thad 
 and Alfy. She took both of Filette's hands in hers, held them 
 long, and said admiringly, — 
 
 "So! so! Pink roses among New England snows. I have 
 found a beautiful Hebe." 
 
 With some trepidation, Mary ushered her into the parlor bed- 
 room to arrange her toilet for supper — apologizing for their rude 
 accommodations. 
 
 "We have no saloons, no folding doors, and no servants, my 
 dear lady, here. I fear you will regret leaving your spacious and 
 luxuriant home in the city." 
 
434 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 •' By no means. Do not indul^^^e that unpleasant thought. This 
 room is a paradise ; so delightfully warm ; and that bed will tempt 
 me to sleep day and night. I have so desired to nestle down in a 
 New England farm-house ; here my wish is gratified. My dear ]\[rs. 
 Buddington, you will find, on farther acquaintance, that my likings 
 are very simple." 
 
 The supper was soon upon the table before the blazing hearth, 
 which illuminated every angle of the tidy kitchen. George assisted 
 Filette. He was the infallible reference in perplexity. 
 
 " She is a superb woman," said Mary in an undertone. " Her 
 hair is singularly splendid, with the color and luxuriance of ripened 
 wheat fields. You will admire her, Filette." 
 
 '*I hope the supper will prove satisfactory," whispered Filette. 
 
 " It cannot be otherwise," spoke George encouragingly. "This 
 cooking cannot be had from hotels or servants, for love nor money. 
 She will be delighted with this bountiful repast j prepared too, by 
 our magic hands." 
 
 " Now Alf," whispered Thad, " don't forget and stand your 
 knife and fork on end each side of your plate, while you are look- 
 ing at the lady. I wouldn't look at her too much to-night ; we shall 
 have plenty of time to see her afterwards." 
 
 Alfy m.ade no reply, but his sensitive boyish pride was touched ; 
 and the moistened eyes dimmed the happy firelight. 
 
 After sufficient lime for a change of traveling-dress, Mrs. Bud- 
 dington stepped into the parlor, to say that tea was waiting. 
 George awaited her entrance to the kitchen, walked by her side to 
 the table, withdrew the chair and seated her. She acknowledged 
 this act of courtesy by saying, — 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Buddington ; but hereafter, allow me to 
 approach the table unattended. Consent that I may be one of 
 the pleasant family, and that no one shall take the trouble to pay 
 me special attentions." 
 
 Her manner was such as to dispel all anxiety from the minds of 
 Mary and Filette ; for she declared, that to come to table in that 
 delightful kitchen, before that picturesque fire-place was worth the 
 whole journey. She begged the privilege of calling Mrs. Budding- 
 ton Mary; as her brother-in-law had spoken of her in that manner 
 on their journey ; adding that the ideal of her anticipated visit 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 435 
 
 had been Mary ; in her estimate, the most exalted name among 
 women. 
 
 Observing the downcast eyes of Alfy, and the bashful awkward- 
 ness with which he clung to his knife and fork lying prone upon 
 the table as well as the self-possessed silence of Thad, she drew 
 them adroitly into familiar conversation. 
 
 " I must make the early acquaintance of these two fair lads. I 
 have no little boys. Let me see ; the name of the youngest has 
 escaped my memor\'." 
 
 " Alfy, ma'am ; " and the blue eyes lighted up with the sweetest 
 pleasure. 
 
 "The older is Thad," suggested Uncle George. "As you 
 remarked, madam, they are fine boys — Uncle George is quite 
 proud of them." 
 
 " Excellent ; with that recommendation I shall place the names 
 of Thad and Alfy on my list of friends. Now what have you in 
 that large barn .'' horses .? and what are their names .? " 
 
 " We have one — he is old though — his name is Ned," answered 
 Alfy. 
 
 " Then you shall take me out sleigh-riding one of these even- 
 ings." 
 
 " Ned is not fast enongh to carry a lady to ride," said Thad. 
 
 Alfy was ruffled somewhat in Ned's defense. 
 
 " Father loved Ned," he quietly responded " and bade us be kind 
 to him." 
 
 Smiling sadly, she healed the wound by saying, — 
 
 " Then Thad, we will all love Ned and drive him gently." 
 
 After many, and just encomiums upon the delightful supper, she 
 remarked to Mr. Buddington, — 
 
 "Our Hebe should not only be cup-bearer to the gods,but also 
 the bearer of ambrosial food, which her hands so readily form." 
 
 " Our opinions are harmonious, Madame Lambelle." 
 
 After supper she led Mary and her sons away to her "pretty 
 boudoir," saying archly, while Filette's cheeks glowed crimson, and 
 George responded with an approving smile, — 
 
 "I trust they will not be lonely without us." 
 
 That was a never-to be forgotten evening for Mary's boys. 
 Thad's barometer and Alfy's thermometer, the gifts of the " New 
 
436 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 York lady," as they sometimes termed her, became the keys to fu- 
 ture unlocked stores of science. An ardent longing for its myste- 
 ries was awakened by a recollection of the pleasant voice which 
 explained their uses. The pretty dressing case bestowed upon 
 each, was the secret indication of fast-approaching manhood. A 
 standard of womanly beauty and refinement was then and there 
 set up in their admiring minds, which was never to be dethroned. 
 Woe be to those maidens hereafter, who, measured by the lovely 
 stature, were found wanting. The keen edge of Mary's ever recur- 
 ring loss was deftlv blunted by her visitor's gentle and considerate 
 ways, in keeping her attention removed from the one object of her 
 thoughts, to new and interesting subjects. 
 
 The kitchen was rife with the praises of the elegant Madame 
 Lambelle. She infused her beauty and goodness into every word 
 and action. 
 
 Said Filette,— 
 
 " How delightfully the dreaded supper hour passed. 
 
 *• * Round her she made an atmosphere of life, 
 The very air seemed lighter from her eyes. 
 They were so soft, so beautiful and rife 
 With all we can imagine of the skies ! 
 
 Her overpowering presence made you feel, 
 It would not be idolatry to kneel ! ' " 
 
 " Doing up the dishes, and chanting Byron ! " quoth her com- 
 panion. 
 
 " Certainly ! Hands that labor, should be crowned with flowers 
 of thought. When they are not indigenous, they must be culled 
 elsewhere." 
 
 "Valiant as ever in your own defense, I see. Now since you 
 have thrown down the poetical gauntlet, I cannot refuse the chal- 
 lenge. I most heartily accede to your admiration of our lady guest, 
 and beg to add, that, besides being a phantom of delight,' she is 
 
 ' A creature not too bright or good 
 For human nature's daily food ; 
 For transient sorrows, simple wiles, 
 Praise, biame, love, kisses, tears and smiles.' 
 
 That is the style of woman who commands my reverence. I have 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 437 
 
 no faith in fancy-wrought angels, whose fairy, golden-slippered feet 
 are never soiled with the dust of earth. Life is real — life is ear- 
 nest for woman, as well as man. In spite of the sickly teachings 
 of false literature, I have my own opinion." 
 
 There was silence for a few moments. Nothing disturbed it but 
 the official crackling of the winter fire, and the rattle of Filette's 
 dishes. She w'ould not compromise herself by any expression of 
 opinion ; although before Madame Lambelle's arrival, she had 
 held well-defined ideas upon the true requisites of womanhood. 
 Since the contemplations of her perfections, she had fallen in her 
 own estimation. A secret fear whispered that she might have lost 
 by comparison, in the estimation of one whose favorable opinion 
 she most desired. She could be valiant in her own defense, no 
 longer. However, she broke the expressive silence, by say- 
 ing,— 
 
 "It seems that we have had transplanted into our farm-house a 
 tropical plant of exquisite richness and fragrance, whose bloom is 
 a never-ceasing delight, I could easily become the hand-maid of 
 our visitor, for the simple reward of being near her." 
 
 "Miss Snow, there would be nothing in that love service which 
 could in the least diminish your dignity. There is high authority 
 for esteeming others better than ourselves. She certainly deserves 
 high regard for the simple obedience yielded to the exalted and 
 natural impulses of a noble heart ; but the ease, elegance and self- 
 possession of her manners are due to leisure, travel and cosmopoli- 
 tan intercourse. That is not the common lot of all, you know, Aliss 
 Snow. Inherent worth should be held at its true value, even if 
 unadorned by artificial aids. Blue field-violets and wood anemones 
 are among the well -beloved of the most sensible minds." 
 
 Filette had not given George Buddington the credit of cherishing 
 such radical ideas upon what half the world seemed bewildered j 
 yet they afforded agreeable meditations. 
 
 The folio win 2: Sabbath was fixed for the conventional sermon 
 upon James' death. The news had been spread through town, and 
 visits of condolence had been numerous. Mary and Filette were 
 with Madame Lambelle, inspecting the mourning suit that had 
 been taken from the trunk. , 
 
 " This bonnet and veil, and these black bordered handkerchiefs, 
 
438 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 are my gift, dear Mary. My husband thought these black furs 
 would not be inappropriate ; he begs you to accept them from him ; 
 or, perhaps you have furs already. 
 
 " No, I have none. I denied myself many luxuries, that James 
 might have means to remove his family to the South. We farmers' 
 wives find other necessary ways to invest our hard-earned income. 
 But really, I have some delicacy about receiving this beautiful pres- 
 ent. I am in no wise worthy." 
 
 "They are beautiful," exclaimed Filette. "Try these on, Mary. 
 There, the point of the cape reaches to your belt, and the fur is so 
 long and glossy. Place your hands in the muff. There is not so 
 handsome a set in town ; and none deserves them more than your- 
 self." 
 
 " This black broadcloth cloak," continued the lady, " is the of- 
 fering of your brother George ; he ordered me to purchase it for 
 you. See, Mary, it is perfectly plain, but is rich and in good taste." 
 
 Mary inspected it with grateful but tearful eyes. 
 
 "Try them all on, oi.ce, and then let me put them from your 
 sight till Sunday," advised Filette, considerately. 
 
 While Filette went out on her errand, madame took Mary's 
 hand, and said feelingly,- — 
 
 " I have come to relate to you the circumstances of your hus- 
 band's death, and to deliver his dying message ; but let us defer 
 the painful duty until ^Monday. The exercises of the Sabbath will 
 be sufficiently trying. As my stay is extended to Friday, there is 
 ample time. This postponement will be made as the suggestion 
 of your brother, who desires only your comfort and welfare." 
 
 "Very well. I can await the proper time ; there may be some 
 reason which I do not understand. George has been a kind 
 brother to James, and I cannot doubt his friendship for me." 
 
 At the Sunday sermon there was an unu ual attencsnce. The 
 Reverend Mr. John's kept to the old beaten track of theologians, 
 in accounting for the sudden demise of the well-known and exem- 
 plary citizen, to whose memory all had gathered to drop the tear 
 of sympathy. The death of James Buddington was among the 
 myscerious and inscrutable ways of God. It was among His divinf^ 
 and glorious designs that he should pass away from earth in a lana 
 of strangers, far from the affectionate voices of his own family. 
 
 /^ 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 439 
 
 " The Lord hath done this!'' he reiterated. " He hath called his 
 beloved disciple away from earth, up to the abodes of bhss. With 
 serene submission the mourners should lay their hands upon their 
 moutiis, and their mouths in the dust, not daring to question 
 Heaven's all-wise plans." 
 
 This was the custom of that day ; to lay death, and the anguish 
 of it, whatever it might be, upon the threshold of heaven. To at- 
 tribute to the loving Creator the whimsical fiendishness of murder, 
 or manslaughter m its various degrees. It was a comforting doc- 
 trine for those who could stolialy embrace it ; for those who re- 
 ceived their spiritual food as the stalled ox feeds upon weeds and 
 thistles. How those mourners took this gracious unction to their 
 souls must be seen hereafter. 
 
 The congregation scattered through the town, had seen some- 
 thing of much deeper interest than the sermon ; a living mystery, 
 witlAvhich God seemed to have very little, or nothing to do. The 
 stran£-er in the Buddington pew was to be unraveled. 
 
 " Such an elegant lady 1 " said one. 
 
 " She was dressed in costUest velvet from head to foot ! " said 
 
 another. 
 
 "Those were real ostrich plumes, and the rose in her Donnet 
 locked as if it had just been cut from the stem ! " said a third. 
 
 " Her eyes were blue as the sky, and her hair like pale gold ! " 
 affirmed a' young collegian, at home for a vacation. 
 
 The mystery of her advent into "that plain house which is no 
 better than ours," was more difficult of explanation than the aus- 
 tere will and stony decr.ees of Jehovah. 
 
 " I'll Lell you 'what I believe ! " intimated Miss Myrtle Berry, at 
 the Sunday dinner, "she's to be the wife of George Buddington. 
 She must be a Southern lady. He made her acquaintance on his 
 journey, and has brought her home to see his friends. I've always 
 heard those Southern ladies are so hospitable ! " 
 
 "So I've always heard," said her mother, a little withered 
 woman, to whom all human nature was angelic. " James may have 
 been taken sick at her father's house, ana she probably fell in love 
 with his fine looidng brother, George. The further you go South, 
 the kinder they say the people air." 
 
 " Preposterous ! pre — pos — ter — ous ! " cried Anna, an older 
 
440 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 sister. "Myrtle, don't delude poor mother and yourself. Haven't 
 I been governess South, amongst the blue-bloods, long enough to 
 know better ? Hospitable ! They are so to those of their own 
 standing, and to no others. Don't imagine that so grand a looking 
 Southern lady as that would ever marry a Northern adventurer, as 
 they term a gentleman who may travel through their section. No 
 indeed ! she would be traveling towards Europe, instead of towards 
 New England! " 
 
 '"Why! wouldn't they marry as good looking a gentleman as 
 George Buddington ? he's rich too, they tell me. He's got a deal 
 of property in Massachusetts. 
 
 " He's not a rice planter, nor does he hold five hundred slaves ! 
 those are blue-blood conditions. Girls there would lose caste im- 
 mediately, to marry a Northerner. They would marry into their 
 own families, over and over again — first cousins every time, rather 
 than do it." 
 
 " Well, I'm astonished ! " innocently averred the mother. 
 
 '• You would have greater cause for astonishment yet, if you 
 lived among them ! " was the bitter reply. " However, I am not 
 disparaging the elegant young lady who accompanied the Budding- 
 ton's to church, to-day. She was beautiful, and evidently possesses 
 wealth and culture. I observed a soitaire diamond on her finscer, 
 and a cluster nestled into the blue velvet on her singular hair." 
 
 "Well, you don't say, Anna ! I never see a diamond in my life," 
 replied the mother, with happy content. 
 
 Another enigma worried the church people. When and how 
 did Mary get that costly suit of mourning.'*- the furs, the cloak, the 
 city-looking bonnet } These were tougher questions than fore- 
 ordination or natural depravity, and busied gossiping tongues quite 
 up to the hour for family prayers. Even the minister and his wife 
 were agitated by the unusual extravagance of the widow, in her 
 purchase of mourning. 
 
 Filette and Thad rose early Monday morning. At half-past 
 four, she was busy at the washing, that the short winter day should 
 have its full quota of undisturbed quiet given to the last sacred 
 hours of the deceased hnsband. At eigiu o'clock, the lines were 
 Haunting burdens of snowy garments in the dawning face of the 
 lardy sun. A quarter later, the boys had breakfasted, and were 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 44 1 
 
 starting for the distant school-house, laden with dinner basket and 
 books. The savory breakfast smoked upon the table, for the elder 
 members of the family. Conversation laijired ; abstraction and 
 silence prevailed with all except Filette. Her eflFoits at cheerful 
 sociability scattered the gathering gloom, kept back the tears from 
 Mary's eves, and called the color back to Geors^e's ashen face. 
 Madame Lambelle seconded Filette, and her glance often met the 
 noble girl's in a glad recognition of her kindly design. 
 
 By ten, the three women were gathered about the stove in the 
 visitor's room. 
 
 " Mary, your lovely calla lily and the tea roses are drinking this 
 bright sunlight to their heart's content. How pure and lovely they 
 are ! ever so, but especially amid icy winter." 
 
 "The calla was James' favorite, and his own hands raised it. 
 Everything blossomed under his care — everything except this last 
 fateful journey to Texas." With a deep sigh she added, " He loved 
 flowers with almost feminine enthusiasm." 
 
 " Mary, he rested in his last sleep among flowers ; they were on 
 his breast and upon his coffin, and, according to the faith of our 
 fathers, he now walks where 'flowers immortal bloom ! ' " 
 
 " Madame Lambelle, I am to hear to-day the particulars of his 
 sickness, and his message to me. Do not hesitate, but speak 
 without a longer delay. Explain precisely the nature of his disease. 
 Explain why you took so deep an interest in his death and 
 burial." • 
 
 The lady seated herself by Mary, and took her hand in hers, 
 saying,— 
 
 '• First promise me that you will brace your nerves against exces- 
 sive grief, that you will bring all your powers of resistance to your 
 aid, for mine is a harrowing task. Remember that the past cannot 
 be recalled — the future only remains. I will answer your last 
 question first. 
 
 "1 was staying in St.Louis myself last autumn, while my husband 
 made a journey to Texas — not for the purpose of settling there, 
 but for other reasons. We carried letters of recommendation to a 
 few of the most aristocratic families there, and, being heartily wel- 
 comed by these, as New Yorkers after their own heart, v/e were 
 introduced to the elite of the city. Towards the close of my stay, 
 
442 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 I was invited to attend a public meeting, a sort of jubilee over an 
 event which had just filled the town with an uncontrollable excice- 
 ment of rejoicing. The hall was thronged with ladies and gentle- 
 men of the highest rank; statesmen, editors, and a large body of 
 the clergy. The street was so densely packed, that being late, our 
 carriage moved through with difficulty. The American Flag was 
 flung to the breeze, and graced the hall, within. 
 
 "1 found that the occasion of this tumult of cheering and huzza- 
 ing, was rhe whipping of two strangers the da}' previous, whom 
 they denominated thieves, on the pretence of their tampering with 
 slaves and decoying them away. I arrived late, only in time to 
 hear a few speeches against Northerners and Abolitionists. (By the 
 way, these men who were whipped, were called abolitionists of the 
 bloodiest and most repulsive character,) and to listen to resolutions 
 that were clearly and designedly repellant to every instinct of hu- 
 manity, to the spirit of our National Constitution, and to the lib- 
 eral teachings and intent of our fathers. I was shocked at the 
 anathemas poured out against all, whomsoever and wheresoever 
 they might be, who would not violently sustain their system of 
 slavery. 
 
 " I was well informed of the danger to one who should dare dis- 
 sent from their evil and bloodthirsty asservations, so maintained a 
 seeming approval of the meeting and its purposes. I afterwards 
 learned that the punishment of the two strangers was two hundred 
 lashes each ; that the respectable citizens formed themselves into a 
 line, each, in turn, giving two lashes and passing on. I was in 
 high feather with the families of those very respectable citizens ; 
 was the recipient of their extreme chivalric attentions. My hus- 
 band arrived soon after, and remained just long enough to 
 acknowledge with courtesy the hospitable welcome bestowed upon 
 his wife. 
 
 " We then started for New York at easy stages across the coun- 
 try. One night we stopped at a country hotel in Indiana. During 
 the evening, a gentleman dropped into the little parlor where Mr. 
 Lambeile and myself were resting. We exchanged the usual salu- 
 tations of travelers, and learned that he awaited the crisis of a 
 brother's sickness, and would not go on till that was past. I was 
 educated among Catholics, with the Sisters of Mercy, and had 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 443 
 
 acquired a great admiration for their ministrations of love among 
 the suffering ; since their acquaintance, I have ever felt an acute 
 interest for the distressed. 1 made more particular inquiries. 
 
 "Now Mary, the truth cannot be withheld any longer. I found 
 that the brother was James — your husband; and that the two 
 men publicly whipped in the city of St. Louis, were George and 
 James Buddington." 
 
 A low, Vv-ailing cry welled up from the suffocating throat of 
 Mary.^ Her hands vaguely grasped for an intangible support. 
 Mid sighs and sobs she cried piteously, — 
 
 " Oh ! no ! no! no ! It cannot be ! Not my James ! my tender, 
 upright, patriotic Jaiiies I my husband I The father of my boys ! " 
 She sobbed brokenly, "Oh ! no ! no ! tell me no ! " 
 
 Unable to support herself, her hands caught the back of a chair 
 near her ; her head sank upon them, and she groaned deeply. 
 
 Filette offered comfort in a choking voice. 
 
 " No ! no ! Do not utter a word of consolation to me ! Think 
 of my poor, feeble, sufferhig James at the whipping-post! his frail, 
 panting life beaten out of him ! murdered ! Oh ! worse ! murdered 
 by inches ! Don't speak to me I Madame Larabelle, don't speak 
 of the Lord ! there is none ! " 
 
 With an almost insane revulsion of emotion she sat up erect, 
 still clutchtng the chair with a convulsive grasp. 
 
 " Tell me, Madame Lambelle, where was James' spirit crushed 
 out of him ? Tell me how ! tell me all ! everything you know, 
 that I may seem to have been near him — that I may seem to have 
 waited near his murderers to receive his mangled and bleeding 
 body to my pitying arms ! Tell me why, I conjure you, tell me 
 why ! " 
 
 Madame Lambelle bent over the suffering wife, kissed the shak- 
 ing hands — her soft, white palms passed over Mary's throbbing 
 temples, and her tearful eyes looked calmly into the wild agony of 
 those of her friend. 
 
 " I w^as not an eye witness of that barbarous scene." Her. voice 
 was low and gentle. " I can tell you of his lov^ely and triumphant 
 death, Mary. I can give the dear message to you, with which he 
 entrusted me. I can describe to you the quiet spot where he 
 sleeps peacefully, that you may seem to weep by his grave, your- 
 
444 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 self. I can do that. Shall I proceed ? " the soft palms still mov- 
 ing over the stricken woman's temples. 
 
 " Yes, go on ! omit nothing. 1 must endure to hear what my 
 dear James has suffered." 
 
 *' Well, Mary, I went with my husband to James' room — it was 
 comfortable. Mr. George had done all in his power for his 
 brother ; but a woman's care was needed. After some consul- 
 tation, I acquainted the sufferer with my design to become his 
 nurse; informing him, at the same time, of the circumstance that 
 brought us together. To encourage hope, I remarked, ' We will 
 all delay till you can travel with us.' Gladness lighted his face 
 when he learned we were to remain. Mary, the light of his smile 
 did not become dim, when he said, ' My kind friends, you will not 
 be delayed long; but I shall not travel with you.' ' 
 
 Filette, moved by the pale and rigid face, spoke for Mary. 
 
 " George says James died of fever." 
 
 " Yes, that is true ; his life ebbed out in fever, but that fever 
 was induced by the merciless whip. His wounds did not heal, and 
 were a source of severe pain and irritation. You know in those 
 terrible scourgings, a physician stands by with his fingers often 
 applied to the pulse of the victim. He indicates the number of 
 lashes that c;in be borne without a complete separation of the 
 fluttering soul from the fainting body." 
 
 A sharp shriek rang through the room. Madame Lambelle felt 
 her hands seized suddenly, almost fiercely. Mary asked, — 
 
 " How can you speak those words so coolly ? Why do they not 
 burn your lips to anathemas .'' " Moaning and weeping, she bent 
 her head over Madame Lambelle's hands, -which she still clenched 
 like one drowning, and wet them with her tears. 
 
 " I am cool, my dear friend, because I comprehend Southern 
 slavery ; because I know slavery is unchangeablv cruel ; because I 
 have suffered, and my friends have suiTered, till tears are exhausted ! 
 tears are succeeded by the calmness of despair. Mary, if George 
 and James Buddington were the only ones whom slavery has 
 thrust into the jaws of Death, then, indeed, might the dove of Peace 
 brood over our nation. But thousands, both of slaves and free- 
 men, have watered with their life's blood this land mockiniilv con 
 secrated to Liberty. There is no hope in man, his religion or hi:j 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 445 
 
 laws. All bow the knee to this National Moloch. In God must 
 be our trust. * Jud2;ment is mine,' he ha«? said." 
 
 Astonishment in both listeners held grief in abeyance. They had 
 supposed that the Southern institution would be held in respect by 
 a lady so distinguished. Madame Lambelle returned to her 
 patient. 
 
 "Mary, your husband could not rally. The shock to his vitality 
 was thorough ; but as his physical strenght failed, his moral vision 
 became clearer. The character of our national sin dawned upon 
 him in its true light. ' Thank God ! ' he said, ' this event will save 
 my two boys.' We were all sitting about him conversing ; he asked 
 for pen and paper, and begged me to write his message to his be- 
 loved wife. He would have it writkn, that his own words, and not 
 another's, should guide and comfort you. I followed his dictation 
 with pleasure. He read it afterwards, expressed himself satisfied, 
 and bade me seal it in his presence." 
 
 She lifted the cover of her trunk, and taking the packet, placed 
 it in the wife's possession. Eagerly, but reverentially, she took the 
 sacred remembrance and pressed it with her lips. 
 
 "Read it, my dear Mary," besought Filette, "when the force of 
 this grief has passed. Read it when you are alone, when no intru- 
 sion can disturb the holy communion between his spirit and 
 yours." 
 
 " There is another request he bade me repeat to you, of which 
 your brother may have already spoken," continued the guest, sitting 
 by Mary's side. 
 
 " He has said nothing." 
 
 " It was a painful experience to him," said Madame Lambelle 
 in a reassuring voice, " and every word relative to it doubtless cost 
 him many a pang. I will open the way. He formed a plan for the 
 future residence of his • dear wife and children.' He desired 
 George to sell this homestead and to take you all under his hospi- 
 table roof, 7ioii' in your desolation, leaving future changing events 
 to the ' watchful care of an ever-kind Providence.' Those were 
 his words. He clung to the hand of his brother George, while he 
 promised a v/elcome for you, and guardianship for your two sons. 
 This was about sunset ; the room was lighted cheerfully by his 
 setting glory. 
 
44^ WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " James desired us to sing around his bed, the hymn, — 
 
 *' ' Jesus can make a dying bed 
 Feel soft as downy pillows are ; 
 While on his breast I lean my head, 
 And breathe my life out sweetly there.' 
 
 " Angelic peace settled upon his face. At its close, folding his 
 hands upon his breast, he said to his brother in a whisper of weak- 
 ness. — 
 
 " I am ready to depart.' " 
 
 " Filette ! " cried Mary, with heart-broken groans, " where is 
 mv Redeemer? This death-bed hides Him from mv si^rht. Where 
 is the loving kindness of the Almighty ? This murder comes 
 between it and me. To whom shall I go ? There is no arm of 
 support in the awful darkness of this hour." 
 
 After a deferential and silent waiting, Madame Lambelle 
 addressed Mary with great gentleness. 
 
 "Will you hear how sweetly your husband slept in the embrace 
 of that Redeemer you cannot find ? It is this distracting grief 
 which blinds your sight — a grief in which we all drop our tears 
 beside yours. Will you hear, dear Mary ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes. I am compelled to come face to face with that 
 dying bed, and with that grave which covers my best and only love 
 on earth. Proceed." 
 
 " Mr. Lambelle insisted I should take a short rest in the even- 
 ing, with the promise to call me at any change. About twelve I 
 was summoned ; the realities of earth were receding. At one 
 o'clock, the gentle, loving life was sweetly yielded to Him whose 
 love for you, dear i\Iary, is stronger than any earthly affection. 
 There seemed to be no regrets — no pains — simply a falling 
 asleep." 
 
 In a frenzy of grief, Mary repeated over and over, — 
 
 " Oh ! my poor, innocent, murdered James ! " 
 
 " Geoge informed us that you took great pains to obtain flowers 
 for his burial," ventured Filette. " I am sure it is a comfort to 
 Mary." 
 
 "True, he was buried with flowers; since my arrival here, I 
 have thought it most singular, but we found a white calla ; in a 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 447 
 
 setting of green, we placed it on Iiis name outside during thie exer- 
 cises, and laid it on his bosom after." 
 
 Filette left the room to prepare the dinner. Madame Lambelle 
 soon followed, to enjoy, (as she said) as much as possible of that 
 pleasant fire on the hearth, thus giving Mary the quiet opportunity 
 she desired, to loose the seals upon her husband's last, loving 
 words. 
 
 This she reverently did ; her swimming eyes followed these 
 
 lines, — 
 
 " jMy dear Mary, — I am about to pronounce the hardest words I have ever 
 spoken — an abiding farewell to you and my dear boys. An end is approach- 
 ing to the few happy years since our marriage, which have had but one shadow ; 
 that was my inability to surround my family with a portion of the luxuries which 
 appear to be bestowed upon some, and are denied to others. I am to leave 
 earth, and try the realities of that world concerning which you and I have often 
 and hopefully spoken. I have been falsely accused, imprisoned, and beaten to 
 my death. I bear no malice to my destroyers ; neither can I blindly say, 'Thy 
 wfll be done ;' for I do not belieVe that 'this murder (and I can call it by no 
 other name,) iniiicted upon my poor body, was the will of Heaven, or was 
 wrought bv the hands of Divine Love I 
 
 " My dear Mary ! my suffering wife ! the scales have fallen from my sight ! 
 At last I see slavery and its adherents, in a new light. It is a heathen Moloch, 
 demanding with bloodthirsty hands the continual human sacrifice of American 
 citizens. It will not be app'eased, but by men's bodies cr souls. My body has 
 been laid upon its altar. But let us be thankful, my dear wife, that my soul is 
 untarnished with this idol's guilty worship. My object in writing is not only to 
 say our long ' Farewell I ' but to leave you my will respecting our two boys. 
 Mary, as you revere the right — as you love me and cherish my memory, take 
 heed that'thev do not yield to this infatuation of laying their young hope and 
 faith on the aftar of slaverv. Teach their youthful hearts to love and respect 
 all races of men. Teach them the humanity of Christ, which knew no distinc- 
 tion of persons ; for, my dear wife, remember while your heart is bleeding for 
 me, that thousands in our land, of another color, are daily fainting or dying 
 under the same lash that murdered their father ! Do not shock their tender 
 minds at present with the secret of my death. When Thad shall have attained 
 the age of sixteen, call them to you, Mary, and read them this bloody chapter of 
 my life and Uncle George's. On that birth-day, cause them to take the oath of 
 allegiance to Freedom, and ot enmity to Bondage. 
 
 " My mistake, dear Mary, was in yielding blindly to the blandishments of 
 wrong and injustice, because considered constitutional, also in listening to the 
 'syren tongue of reconciliation' with the Southern shatne. Let my boys never 
 fall into that error. I was never styled an abolitionist. It was neither that 
 name or spirit that cost my life. Teach my sons hereafter, the abolitionist prin- 
 ciples and faith. Let them become two of their straitest sect, squaring their 
 lives by conscience and not by compromise, with v.hat a distinguished Divine, 
 
448 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 who had evidently been breathed upon by the spirit God, called the * sum of all 
 villanies.' 
 
 " My beloved wife, this is my last will and testament concerning our dear 
 boys. The little of property I leave for you and them, will be taken care of 
 by mv dear brother George. Trust him, Mary, and follow his advice ; he knows 
 inv wishes. Mv strength is failing. It is hard to think that when I gave you 
 and the children the parting kiss and shake of the hand, on our home threshold, 
 on that not-far-away, lovely autumn day, it was forever. Adieu, dear ones, 
 adieu ! " 
 
 Before the wife had read this tender missive from her dying hus- 
 band, she stumbled to the sofa, nearly fainting, yet clinging uncon- 
 sciously to the paper in her hand. Darkness surrounded her. She 
 had not strength even to cry, " My God ! ^Nly God ! Why hast 
 thou forsaken me?"' She could turn no where for help. At inter- 
 vals, she raised the trembling manuscript before her dizzy sight 
 and whitened face ; at intervals, the hand refused its of!ice, and 
 dropped heavily to the floor. At lenghth, she reached the last 
 "Adieu." Dazed and stunned, her throbbing heart refused speech, 
 incoherently pouring forth low, sobbing moans. No one lifted the 
 latch of the door; none intruded into the sanctity of the apartment 
 given up to her. Alone she was, with this last voice of the dead. 
 At last, in an agony of torture, speech came to her relief. 
 
 "'Adieu, dear ones, adieu ! ' " she moaned. " Yet he can never 
 hear our affectionate response ! Nevermore shall I hear his pleas- 
 ant voice! Nevermore will life seem beautiful in the li^ht of his 
 loving face ! Oh ! it was all, all to me ! Like his Master, * num- 
 bered with the transgressors i ' beaten — killed — cruelly murdered ! 
 Poor! struggling with the burdens of life! while extending the 
 hand of brotherly love to the proud Southerner, struck down by his 
 haughty pride ! Dead ! white in his grave ! " 
 
 The preparation for dinner was carried forward in the kitchen, 
 with careful step and hushed voices. It seemed to all, as if James 
 Buddington had been brought home in his coffin, that day, and 
 that the last look upon the dead had but just been taken. Madame 
 Lambelle glided about, laying the table and assisting in other 
 ways, against the remonstrances of Filette, that it would be too 
 much for her. 
 
 All was ready. The madame entered her room, and returned 
 alone. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 449 
 
 "Mary desires nothing. She bids us leave her alone. Her 
 sacrament of suffering must be received with fasting." 
 
 " Solitude is better at present than -^ociet}^" replied George. 
 " The words of comfort we might offer would prove onl}' vinegar 
 and gall to her extremity." 
 
 _ "I think so," answered the lady. "The healing of nature and 
 time will cicatrize those wounds I have been the instrument of in- 
 flicting to-day. Their still ministry produces great cures." 
 
 "Alydear madame, jw/ have inflicted no wounds upon Sister 
 Mary. They fell upon her from the guilty hands of the gentlemen 
 and clergy of St. Louis. Yours has been a mission of mercy to 
 the bereaved." 
 
 " And yet, Mr. Buddington, but for one reason, I could not have 
 made this journey from New York to rehearse a tragedy, the sim- 
 ple thought of which makes my blood chill. I could not have 
 stood by Mary, and witnessed the harrowing effects of that re- 
 hearsal, but for one stimulating cause, that is, the utter horror and 
 detestation in which I hold Southern principles and practices. 
 Therefore my work here is only begun. Before my departure, I 
 desire to lead the wife of James Buddington into' channels of 
 thought similar to my own. 1 must endeavor to lead her mind into 
 sympathy with those noble co-workers, whose highest aim is the 
 abolition of this heathenish system which holds in abject thrall our 
 nation's most gigantic intellects — which renders our priests, 
 clergy and educators its most servile myrmidons." 
 
 "I am a volunteer in your service, Madame Lambelle ; but suc- 
 cess appears almost an impossibility." 
 
 "Oh, no ! not an impossibility, eventually. You know that truth 
 is eternal. The most prominent truth of this age stands high and 
 clear, like an icy peak against empyrean blue. It is this, — ' Man's 
 birthright is Liberty ! ' My faith is strong — strong in the immu- 
 tability of this one dominant truth. It is anchored in the fears 
 and denunciations of the Souihron. You should have been pres- 
 ent at the meeting in St. Louis, held in honor of the punishment 
 of yourself and brother. You would then see that you were only 
 the first fruits of a sanguinary harvest, for which their blades are 
 already whetted. The ferocity of the Southerners in defence of 
 their domestic institution betrays its danger. Truth will prevail 1 " 
 
45 O WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "You speak of man's birthright, madame. The Southerner de- 
 clares iTiaii has his birthright ah-eady. In proof they cite York- 
 town and our National Flag. They reckon all color, of whatever 
 nature, with their cattle.'** 
 
 "That is because, for a long period, they have smothered the 
 voice of conscience till it makes no appeal. Color diminishes not, 
 in the least, a claim to manhood, or the fulfillment of manhood's 
 destiny. It would be strange, indeed, if the whole earth were peo- 
 pled with pale faces. Man would not be in harmony with the rest 
 of creation — wrth animals, flowers, fruits, or precious stones. In 
 each of these is found a wide variety, enhancing their beauty and 
 value. No, Mr. George, the slaveholder's definition and valuation 
 of the color of men will not stand the fiery ordeal of the future. 
 
 " I confess to some surprise at finding in yourself an advocate of 
 the equality of the races. Do you believe in their original mental 
 equality as a part of the plan of Divine economy?" 
 
 " Most certainly 1 We have only to turn the pages of history, to 
 study the rise and fall of nations, to learn out of what hordes of 
 barbarism sprang civilization, and the arts, — the polish and refine- 
 ment of the present. The African in this country was first robbed 
 of his birthright, and, consequently, of all that birthright stipulates. 
 The prime object of the enslaver is to crush out the intelUect of 
 his victim. He has left no stone unturned in its accomplishment. 
 Nevertheless, the demand of the Creator for the well-being of His 
 stolen children in our land is as strenuous as if they were not in 
 bondage. Chains are not excuses in His eyes. Examine the sub- 
 ject for yourself, with an eye to justice, and I am sure you will 
 become one of the inflexible advocates of the down-trodden race. 
 I have but one word more to say, — I have sounded this American 
 oppression — I have dropped a plummet to its profoundest depths. 
 I find it has no prejudice of color. It would as soon lead the fet- 
 tered Saxon to its marts as the African, were it possible." 
 
 They left the table. George had commenced preparations for 
 the departure of his brother's family. Deacon Brown had secured 
 the refusal of the farm for his married son. Some settlement of 
 preliminaries was the order for the afternoon. The ladies were 
 left by themselves. Filette was delighted to have the society of 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 45 1 
 
 the dear honored guest. Ov^er her work-basket on her lap twined 
 roses, dimples and smiles. 
 
 Towards evening, the soft step of Madame Lambelle entered 
 her own room. Mary, exhausted, slept. James' letter, containing 
 the last " adieu," had slipped from her grasp and lay upon the 
 carpet. Like a thoughtful nurse, the kind lady carefully withdrew 
 it, folding it away from sight, and left the sleeper to her much 
 needed rest. 
 
 At their late tea by candle-light, before the glowing back-log on 
 the hearth, Mary came in between the caressing arms of her two 
 steadfast friends. 
 
 '' Is mother sick ? " inquired Thad and Alfy, in their seats at 
 table. 
 
 ''Not quite well," answered Uncle George quickly, "Don't be 
 troubled ; she will be better to-morrow. Our blessed ' Lady of 
 Mercy,'' whom you both admire, works wonderful cures." Confid- 
 ing and affectionate smiles lighted up their grieved faces as they 
 shyly turned them towards madame, their guest. 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. George," bowed the lady. "I could not 
 choose a more honorable title — I would that I were worthy." 
 Turning to the boys, she said comfortingly, " Dear mother shall be 
 carefully nursed ; and I have been thinking that the two remaining 
 evenings after this, of my stay in this pleasant home, must be more 
 especially devoted to Thad and Alfy. Suppose you both, with our 
 beautiful Hebe as mistress of ceremonies, should give us all a 
 reception in this flame-lighted, dancing-shadowed room. I love 
 this kitchen, and every sturdy beam in it.' I desire to carry back 
 to the city a social picture of this family within it. The 'reception 
 might take place to morrow evening ; then, the evening after, I will 
 give a reception in my pretty boudoir. How does that please my 
 young friends ? "' 
 
 Two pairs of beaming eyes lifted to hers in a bashful silence. 
 Uncle George came to the rescue. 
 
 " Shall I be spokesman, Thad ? I have no doubt they would be 
 very happy to hold this reception. If my assistance will be accept- 
 able boys, I am at your service." 
 
 " Thank you, uncle ; you always come to our aid. We are very 
 
452 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 grateful. We should make an awkward evening's entertainment, 
 without you." 
 
 The house was enlivened the next day by the early patting of 
 boyish feet, low voiced conferences, and sudden exclamations. 
 Even the mother's sad eyes lifted brighter, as each of her boys 
 threw an arm about her neck, and whispered in her ear for advice. 
 At the breakfast-table, notes of invitation were found upon four 
 plates. The reception hour was six. 
 
 " None too early for a cold winter night," said Uncle George. 
 
 At the going down of the sun, the new maple back-log began to 
 burn red ; its white, wedge-shaped ends were beaded with saccha- 
 rine dew, which dripped slowly upon hissing coals below. The 
 heavy old andirons wore a stately and official air in supporting the 
 high-piled, blazing faggots in front. Flame-lighted indeed, was 
 the dear old kitchen ; and with the guests would arrive the 
 dancing shadows on the walls. The white, sanded floor, which 
 would not soil the train of a queen, (according to Filette) was set 
 about with the farmer's rude, high-backed chairs. One rocker was 
 placed for the pale, suffering ]\Iar3\ 
 
 At a quarter past six, Thad and Alfy received their guests. 
 Thad proudly handed Zaffiri (for so Madame Lambelle requested 
 to be called) to a high-backed chair, while Alfy seated his mother. 
 Uncle George and Filette entered <?« cereuionie from the south room. 
 Shadows and vanishing silhouettes began a witching revelry. 
 
 Zaffiri dressed for the evening, though plainly. During the day 
 she conferred with M^ry ; paying a respectful deference to her 
 wishes. 
 
 " I only wish," said Zaffiri, " to pay my respects to the occasion, 
 and win their young minds to the impressions I shall strive to make 
 upon them to morrow evening. I often think that the more con- 
 siderately we deal with the manly pride of youth, the more easily 
 we guide them into wholesome truths." 
 
 *' I confide entirely in your thoughtful regard for me and them,*' 
 gratefully answered Mary. " Dress and do whatever your sweet 
 judgment suggests." 
 
 Therefore, Zaffiri stepped into the reception-room, arrayed in 
 blue silk moire with silver ornaments. The long braids of her 
 pale wheaten hair were looped at the back of her head, over which a 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. • 453 
 
 few curls were fastened by a silver arrow ; and a small coronet of 
 silver set above her forehead. A filigree brooch of silver fastened 
 the fine lace collar at her throat. A snow-white shawl, crocheted 
 of fleecy wool, fell from her shoulders, dropping its heavy fringes 
 nearly to the floor. 
 
 The wonder and adoration of the two youthful hosts were a 
 study for one observant of the lights and shades of childhood. 
 Thad and Alfy sat one on each side of her. Filette admired the 
 pretty picture thus presented, and said in a low tone to Uncle 
 George, — 
 
 The beautiful princess and her two pages." 
 
 She was answered by an approving smile. 
 
 *' Uncle George, Madame Lambelle is to tell us of Italy to- 
 night." 
 
 "Yes, Alfy. I expect your other guests will be equally inter- 
 ested with yourselves. We shall forget our snows and cold winds ; 
 we shall sit under olives and vines and glide about in gay gon- 
 dolas." 
 
 " Uncle George, what are gondolas ? " 
 
 "Your distinguished guest will soon inform you, Alfy ; she knows 
 better than I. 
 
 " Most of my time in Italy was passed in Florence ; but I have 
 seen Venice and glided over her canals, which are used in the 
 place of streets, for Venice seems to rise from the bosom of the 
 sea, and to float, swan-like upon it, with her numberless domes, 
 towers, spires and pinnacles. These canals are traversed by gon- 
 dolas, or boats, instead of carriages. The grand canal is bordered 
 on each side by magnificent old palaces, with light arabesque bal- 
 conies and marble porticoes. These palaces present a superb 
 scene; and their gay occupants trip down the marble steps into the 
 gondolas, bright with carpets and curtains, for a church or festivi- 
 ties — just as in Broadway one would enter a barouche for a drive. 
 The church of St. Marks rivals in splendor any edifice in Europe. 
 Venice is built on seventy islands ; and, next to Rome, is the finest 
 of the Italian cities." 
 
 " Oh ! mother, exclaimed Alfy ; '' I should like to ride in a gon- 
 dola ! " 
 
 " Perhaps you may some time, my son." 
 
454 ' WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "It is not impossible ! " said Madame Lambelle, laying her hand 
 on his fair hair. " Ah ! there's music on the air ! " 
 
 A sound of sleigh bells dashed around the house. 
 
 " I will attend to the arrival," said Uncle George ; and presently 
 he introduced the pleasant surprise of Mr. and Mrs. Snow, to the 
 reception-room. Thad and Alfy came forward to welcome their 
 unexpected guest. Filette expressed the wish of her father and 
 mother, that their presence should cause no interruption, and the 
 subject of Italy was resumed in a manner to heighten the general, 
 social interest. Rome, St. Peter's, the Pope and his palace, paint- 
 ing and sculpture were discussed with a common pleasure, and with 
 the happy effect of excluding neighborhood gossip and scandal. 
 
 Some frigidity marked the introduction of Filette's parents to the 
 elegantly dressed lady, but before the evening wore away they took 
 her to their hearts with marked evidences of love and respect. 
 Uncle George and Filette threw open the door of the " south room " 
 at eight, where a luxurious dinner, by the light of a bright fire on 
 the hearth and winking candles, tempted the appetites of the happy 
 party. Thad and Alfy came near a resort to the " code of honor," 
 concerning the escort of Zafhri to the supper room. The lady 
 declared peace, by asserting her need of a double attendance, and 
 the inexpressible pleasure it would confer to walk between the 
 two hosts of the evening. 
 
 The turkey was browned to an epicure's taste, the charlotte russe 
 was '' hotel," said Uncle George. Mr. Snow gave his opinion that 
 there must have fallen a " hard frost " in Filette's oven, when she 
 baked the cakes and cream pies, while the confectionery and nuts 
 received especial favor. 
 
 The most melancholy feature was the vacant chair at the head 
 of the table, before an unturned plate, upon which rested a white, 
 waxen calla lily. The most bcmitifid feature, said Zafhri, was the 
 fresh blooming roses in the garden of Filette's radiant face. The 
 others whispered among themselves, that the i-oyal feature of the 
 feast was the fairy princess, Zaffiri. 
 
 After refreshments, 3Irs. Snow drew Mary to the boudoir parlor. 
 There she imparted such strength to the mind weakened by suf- 
 fering, as none but the strong, clear-visioned, can offer. 
 
 " My heart bleeds for you, Mary, and as we are commanded 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 455 
 
 to weep with those that weep, I have wept with you many times 
 since Filette left home. Now take some support and strength 
 for your future peace. Although James is gone, bis gentle mem- 
 ory remains to you, an unblemished inheritance. If he had gone 
 to Texas and taken up his abode, death would have found him 
 there ; Mary, bear with me, death would have found him stained 
 with heinous crime toward his fellow-men ! ''' 
 
 " No, no, dear friend ! do not speak thus." 
 
 " Yes, i\Iary, these are words of truth and soberness ; they wound 
 but to heal. Whoever consents to hold a man in bondage, vir- 
 tually subscribes to every article of the slave code. These articles 
 are; first, the darkest ignorance, which is nothing more nor less 
 than stamping out the intellect. The next article is universal con- 
 cubinage ; for no slave can marry. The third is subjection, which 
 entails upon the owner the acts of whipping, chaining, and often 
 of killing a slave outright. Another article, is robbery in almost 
 every degree. First, the owner robs of liberty, then of manhood, 
 then of wages for a whole lifetime of toil, and finally, the robbery 
 and sale of what a mother's heartstrings bind closer than life itself, 
 her children ! " 
 
 Mary placed her hand deprecatingly upon Mrs. Snow's arm, 
 and thrust the questioning and almost angered glance upon the 
 speaker, — 
 
 "How can you suppose my James could have accepted such 
 guilt?" 
 
 " Because, Marv, it could not be otherwise. James Buddington, 
 the affectionate husband and father — James Buddington, the noble 
 friend, the upright townsman, could go into no Southern State, and 
 live there, a respected Southern citizen, without assuming every 
 whit of this burden of guilt ! Much less could he and his innocent 
 boys dwell in Texas, free from crime, for the very basis of the set- 
 tlement of that State is the extension of slavery, the embodiment 
 of all that our Northern statute books denominate as crime ; those 
 slaveholders who are most defiant of justice and humanity, have 
 carried slaves there and taken up their abode ; have placed them- 
 selves at the head of its government. My dear friend, your hus- 
 band and brother and sons cannot take coals of fire in their bosoms 
 and not be burned, any less than others." 
 
456 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 The desolate wife buried her face in her hands, and cried, sob- 
 
 bingly,— 
 
 " Oh ! INIrs. Snow, my husband was not drawn away from earth 
 by the merciful hand of a loving Creator ! He was murdered ! 
 His frail, spotless life was threshed out of him by the cruel whip ! 
 My James was murdered ! my poor James was whipped to 
 death ! " 
 
 " Mary, you shock me ! " 
 
 *' It is the truth ; my James was murdered in St. Louis, and 
 George would have been, had not his constitution been stronger. 
 They said the brothers stole three slaves ! Oh ! I cannot tell you, 
 Filette knows ! Bury this secret in your heart of hearts, for the 
 present." 
 
 " Certainly, Mary, I shall learn all from Filette. But, in the midst 
 of my astonishment, I must declare that such an act but verities 
 my words j no honest. Northern man can live among Southerners ! 
 So they shot the righteous and God-fearing Lovejoy! hunted him 
 as their own bloodhounds hunt the slave ! and murdered him, be- 
 cause he endeavored to reason with them on our National sin ! 
 Why. Mary, the Southerners are organizing themselves into a uni- 
 versal body of banditti, to whip, imprison, murder, or drive out 
 whoever does not openly sanction their system and practices ! 
 Dear me ! they even offer five, and ten thousand dollars reward for 
 the heads of some of our Northern, most saint-like men ! Mary, 
 your sorrow is indeed hard to bear. How is George moved by this 
 terrible event? " 
 
 " He is mostly reticent j he appears pained to revert to it. 
 Madame Lambelle, who was with James in his last days, and at his 
 death, came here purposely to relate the particulars. She brought 
 a letter dictated by James, to me." 
 
 Blinded by weeping, she groped her way to the repository of the 
 letter, and placed it in Mrs. Snow's hand. 
 
 " Read for yourself, my friend." 
 
 Mrs. Snow complied, progressing slowly through tearful sight ; 
 then folding it carefully, replaced it herself. 
 
 " Mary," she said in a gentle but persuasive voice, that last will 
 and testament is the crown of James' life ; he needs no other in 
 Heaven. It is worth more to you and your children than a million 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 457 
 
 of gold. Try and inform yourself of the nature of this hydra-headed 
 monster, which befouls every beautiful thing in our land. Read and 
 think upon it; become yourself familiar with the pure teachings the 
 dead father would have you infuse into those young minds. Teach 
 them to feel for the man of color, not only commiseration, but a 
 true brotherly love. Teach them to hate not only the iron chain 
 upon the Southern slave, but the subtile, legal shackles which fetter 
 the whole North. Most happy will I be to strengthen your arms 
 for the work." 
 
 A light knock at the door closed the interview. Filette brought 
 the message that snow was falling; her father was anxious to be on 
 the way home. Mrs. Snow and Mary met happy faces in the 
 flame-lighted kitchen. The hour of reception was over, yet Zaffiri 
 was still attended by her two pages, and causing the white-haired 
 visitor to forget his years. 
 
 Mary felt wounded by the straightforward words of Mrs. Snow, 
 though she had said, '' they wound but to heal ; " though she left 
 a warm kiss and a teardrop on her forehead. But on reflection, 
 Mrs. Snow's sharp sentences became words of healing. Mary's 
 manner grew firmer and more self-reliant. Day by day and week 
 by week, the crushed look of suffering assumed a more complacent 
 determination to follow the new light dawning before her. 
 
 The next evening's reception was held in the parlor-boudoir. 
 Madame Lambelle presided with a suave grace, not before wit- 
 nessed. Her character of hostess was a pleasing contrast to that 
 of the " Blessed Lady of Mercy." Her guests were received with 
 the dignity and welcome pertaining to her elegant mansion and 
 apartments in the city. When all were assembled, she addressed 
 them in a winning voice. ^ 
 
 " My dear friends, I have given this welcome for a purpose — 
 not merely to wile away the hours in selfish, social pleasure ; but 
 to give direction to these young minds ; and, besides, to electrify 
 our own dormant thoughts and powers. I trust that our room will 
 be flame-lighted to-night with the fires of righteous indignation. 
 We will have shadows and silhouettes that will not flit away like 
 those of the dear old kitchen. I trust they will remain impressed 
 upon our inner spirits. 
 
 " Come, Thad and Alfy ; you should occupy seats of honor. Mr. 
 
45 S WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Buddington, what is your opinion of slavery, as one of the institu- 
 tions of our country ? " 
 
 " Madame, I will confess, that hitherto my ideas of it have been 
 those of the average American. Vou know it receives a general 
 support North, as well as South. I have never entered my protest 
 against it. However, my judgment of its wrong and injustice has 
 been recently quickened. Any facts or views, relative to this sys- 
 tem of bondage, will fall, to-night, upon willing ears." 
 
 " I think the Constitution, within which it is crystalized, has 
 been, and is now, the * Chinese Wall,' which neither politics, mor- 
 ality or religion dare attempt to scale." 
 
 " Yes, madame, that is the forbidden barrier which guards its 
 sanctity. Yet, is it not strange that a people who have struggled 
 for their own freedom, from mere kingly thraldom, should allow a 
 system which levels men to brutes, and which barters humanity 
 in shambles, to be the very cornerstone of their own Magna 
 Charta .? " 
 
 "To one reflecting, it is singular — yQt few reflect. I scarcely 
 know how it was brought about myself." 
 
 Filette replied, — 
 
 " My father says it was done in the same spirit of compromise 
 which has been the bane of the country ever since." 
 
 "That is true," replied Zaffiri. "South Carolina and Georgia 
 threatened to secede from the Federal Compact of States, unless 
 slavery and the slave trade were granted. The demand was 
 yielded. Thus, in the beginning, our Upas tree was planted." 
 
 She turned to Thad and Alfy, and asked, — 
 
 " Do my young friends understand the meaning of compromise ? 
 probably not. Then just here, explanation may be necessary. A 
 compromise is an agreement between parties in controversy, or a 
 mutual yieldmg of certain points, to settle differences ; and this is 
 often done contrary to the voice of conscience, and in direct viola- 
 tion of justice ; " then, catching the perplexed look of their earnest 
 eyes turned full upon her, she said with a merry laugh, in which 
 others joined, " I doubt if my explanation is not more difficult than 
 the original term." 
 
 " I can illustrate, I think, with your permisssisn, Madame Lam- 
 belle." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 459 
 
 " Certainl}^ sir — I will thank you." 
 
 " Well, Thad and Alfy ; a compromise is after this fashion. 
 Alfy, suppose Thad should take it into his head, to make your 
 dear old ' Ned ' draw a heavy load up our steep hill, here ; sup- 
 pose Thad piled on the hay, in the low meadow, in such a cruel 
 weight as he never drew before. When you two and Ned get a 
 few steps up the hill, you say, — 
 
 "*No, Thad, Ned cannot draw this load.' 
 
 " Thad says determinedly, — 
 
 " ' He shall ! ' and commences whipping. 
 
 " Alfy remonstrates ; says it is unmerciful. Thad says, — 
 
 " ' You take the lines and drive, while I beat him.' 
 
 " Alfy throws the lines over Ned's back, and says, — 
 
 " ' I will not drive ! ' and proceeds to unhitch his old friend from 
 the shafts. Thad flies into a rage, and declares he will never do 
 another stroke of work on the farm, unless that load goes up the 
 hill. After much parleying, Alfy takes the reins a^ain. Thad 
 takes the whip. Old Ned, straming, panting and falling, reaches 
 the top of the hill ; where, having burst a blood vessel, he falls 
 dead. A/fy has comp?'omised.'' 
 
 '•True," continued Filette, "Alfy has taken the reins and driven 
 Ned up hill, with his heart aching, his eyes filled wich tears — con- 
 trary to the voice of conscience, and to every human impulse ; 
 because Thad is his brother, and he desires to keep the peace 
 between themselves." 
 
 " I would never do such a thing, mother," retorted Alfy quickly, 
 turning to her as the only remaining friend of the company. 
 Genuine tear-drops bedewed his flushed cheeks. " I would unhitch 
 'Ned' at any rate." 
 
 " And I don't think I should ever treat Ned in that way. Uncle 
 George," answered Thad, with high-colored indignation. 
 
 " No ! no ! my sons, do not feel hurt ; this is only a supposition. 
 I am glad to see you defend yourselves against so cruel an accusa- 
 tion, if you think it so." 
 
 Madame Lambelle cast an arm about the shoulder of each, say- 
 ing laughingly, — 
 
 " Ah 1 I see ; these roses spring from a rich soil ; these hearts 
 are all right; we wish them to remain so. Therefore we are 
 
460 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 endeavoring to make a deep impression of the wickedness of com-- 
 promise. In this comparison, call Thad the South and Alfy the 
 North — thus you will understand. Remember, Madame Lam- 
 belle seeks always to find you both advocates of the right ; follow- 
 ing the voice of conscience without compromise." 
 
 " Some persons, Madame Lambelle, appear to ' have confused 
 ideas of right and wrong — substituting the latter for the former 
 oftentimes," said Mary. " My sons must distinguish the differ- 
 ence. The Southerner pronounces slavery right. Let us see if 
 it be so. Now my sons, listen well to the kind lady, and judge for 
 yourselves." 
 
 " The most accurate measure of right and wrong, in my opinion, 
 is the Golden Rule. Thad, can you repeat it ? " 
 
 " Both of us can. Father taught us to act upon the ' Golden 
 Rule ' with our neighbors," he added, in a subdued and gentle 
 
 voice. 
 
 "That was excellent teaching. Doubtless you will remember 
 dear father's example to the end of your lives." 
 
 " We will try," replied Thad, with the least tinge of conservatism 
 in his manner. 
 
 Mary, who knew every fibre of Thad's temperament, had experi- 
 enced some trials under that ' Rule,' but she believed he had not 
 fallen from the standard. She then wisely requested Alfy to 
 repeat the words to madame. The fair boy's face, sweet as a June 
 sky swept of clouds, turned fondly to his mother. 
 
 " Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even 
 so unto them." 
 
 " Oh! that is beautiful ! " ejaculated Zaffiri. 
 
 She passed her white, jeweled hand over Alfy's bent face., for he 
 was shy and timid when she addressed him. 
 
 " By this ' Rule ' we will see if slavery is right or wrong. Now, 
 suppose some people from a foreign countr}' should land at New 
 Haven, -and come up here to this quiet home in the night and seize 
 mother and both of you ; that they should fasten iron hand-cuffs 
 on your wrists ; and should fasten you all to a long chain, with many 
 others about — say Mr. Brown's family and many of your neigh- 
 bors ; that these foreigners should drive this gang, as it is called, 
 to their ship, on foot, cursing you all, and beating you with whips 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 46 1 
 
 if they thought necessary. Suppose they should force you on 
 board, and sail away far from your home and kindred. Then, 
 after landing in another country, they should place Mary, your 
 mother, on a table in an auction-room, and sell her away from 
 Thad and Alfy, to work for a master who would never pay her any 
 wages, so that when she became old and feeble she would have no 
 money, or home, or friends. 
 
 "Then Thad would be put upon the table and sold to another 
 master, far away in another direction. He might be very cruel — 
 beating him with many stripes, forcing him to labor without wages, 
 till he was a poor old man. Alfy would be sold away also, on the 
 auction-table ; perhaps he would be sold to toil under a burning 
 sun ; in sugar-cane fields, where in the course of six or seven years 
 he would sink into an unknown grave. My dear boys, would this 
 be right or wrong ? " 
 
 Thad looked combattive, with a lowering brow and hands insen- 
 sibly clenched. Alfy's brightness was overcast. 
 
 " How could it be right .'' " crisply asked Thad. 
 
 "What do y Oil think, Alfy.? " questioned Uncle George. "Would 
 it be right ? " 
 
 " I think it w^ould be the worst wrong I ever knew, and I should 
 think the people in Connecticut ought not to allow it, if they did as 
 they would be done by ! " 
 
 Zaffiri clasped her hands with delight. 
 
 " Ah ! Alfy, that is just the conclusion I most desired to show 
 you. We have arrived there without circumlocution. That is the 
 God-like voice of conscience, unwarped by false teachings ! A 
 most holy assertion, ' The people of Connecticut ought not to allow it ! ' 
 The stealing, carrying away, and selling your mother and your- 
 selves, would be like slavery in the South. If the * Golden Rule ' 
 requires that your State should rescue you from the man thieves, 
 then the Northern people, following the same, should strive to 
 rescue their fellowmen from a similar horrible bondage. Do you 
 see ? " 
 
 Thad, whose natural conservation had been previously strength- 
 ened by the arguments of older minds, replied, — 
 
 " JMadame Lambelle, the slaves in the South are black ; they 
 came from Africa. We are white.' 
 
462 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " That makes no difference, my young friend. God is no re- 
 specter of persons, and you will grant that slaves are persons. He 
 respects the white no more than the black, for He made of one 
 blood all the nations of the earth." 
 
 She grew more earnest. 
 
 "Listen further, Thad. The enslaver would enslave white as 
 well as colored, the Saxon, as well as the African, were it in his 
 power. There are white slaves at the South, with fair skins and 
 blue eyes ; these are bought and sold in the same manner as the 
 colored. History informs us that thousands of the white race have 
 suffered cruel bondage under other nations. Thad and Alfy, the 
 next step for you to make towards the fulfillment of the ^ Golden 
 Rule,' is to regard all colors as equal before the Creator of the 
 human race ; and, therefore, to hold them as your equals, in all civil 
 and religious claims," 
 
 Filette remarked that there were but few dark men in this re- 
 gion ; the boys had no acquaintance with them, and that she was 
 not surprised at the rarity of a colored face, after the shameful cul- 
 mination ot prejudice in the " Black Law of the State," or even 
 before the Law was enacted, for the spirit that indited the " Black 
 Law" was always rife; at the same time, deferentially asking par- 
 don of Zaffiri, for the interruption. 
 
 " I think our friend will not consider anything irrelevant which 
 throws light upon her subject," said Mr. Buddington. As for my- 
 self. Miss Filette, I should consider a divergence to this " Black 
 Law " for a few moments a favor. I am entirely uninformed." 
 
 " My dear Hebe, far from deeming the mention of the ' Black 
 Law' an intrusion, I am under many obligations for your assist- 
 ance," responded Zaffiri, politely. 
 
 " I had thought the shameful history of Prudence Crandall's 
 school, and its legitimate fruit, should excite sufficient indigna- 
 tion in New England to render the subject familiar," remarked 
 Hebe. 
 
 " By no means ; the general Northern public is too well satisfied 
 with any act protecting slaver}^, to question its propriety," said Mr. 
 Buddington. 
 
 So the story of INIiss Crandall's boarding-school of about twenty 
 colored ladies and misses from the cities of Philadelphia, New 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 463 
 
 York, Providence, and Boston, was rehearsed ; the refusal of the 
 merchants of Canterbury to sell to her or her school ; the filling of 
 her well with filth ; her supply of water and food by her father and 
 a Quaker friend ; Miss Crandall's imprisonment in the cell of an 
 executed murderer ; the final attempt to set her house on fire, and 
 the smashing of ninety panes of glass in the dead hour of night. 
 
 Filette explained the warrant served upon Miss Ann Eliza Ham- 
 mond, a fine, colored pupil from Providence, under the "obsolete 
 vagrant law," which provided that the selectmen of any town might 
 warn any person not an inhabitant of the State, to depart forthwith 
 from said town, and might demand one dollar and sixty-seven cents 
 for every week he or she remained, after such warning ; and in case 
 the person so warned should not have departed before the expira- 
 tion of ten days after being sentenced, then he or she should be 
 whipped on the naked body not exceeding ten stripes ; that Miss 
 Hammond determined to remain and suffer the punishment like 
 a martyr ; that her persecutors quailed in view of the consequences, 
 and abandoned the warrant ; that the enemies of the school car- 
 ried their case to the Legislature, where the old ' Pauper and 
 Vagrant Law' was revamped and regilded with the name of the 
 "Black Law," accompanied with seven penalties ; that, after a per- 
 secution of eighteen months, the school was broken up, and the 
 pupils scattered to their homes. 
 
 " What was the substance of this ' Black Law,' Miss Filette ? " 
 asked Mr. Buddington. 
 
 " If you please, I can repeat the first section. My father is an 
 abolitionist, upon whose head the Southerners might set a price. 
 He ordered his children to com.mit to memory the ' Black Law,' 
 and to repeat it to him in conjunction with the Ten Command- 
 ments and the Golden Rule." 
 
 "Ah! Hebe, what precious news!" exclaimed Zaffiri, her blue 
 eyes glittering like sapphires. " Blessings on his gray hairs. How 
 much will the pleasure of our visit to-morrow be heightened by this 
 assurance. I shall embrace him as a father." 
 
 " Allow one more shadow to pass, dear madame," said Uncle 
 George ; "and then, I suppose, your most honored guests will beg 
 leave to retire," bowing at the same time to his nephews. " Miss 
 Snow, we will hear the ' Black Law ' of Connecticut." 
 
464 WHITE MAY, AND ELACK JUNE. 
 
 " I will recite the first section, if you please. 
 
 " ' Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives, in 
 General Assembly convened, that no person shall set up or estab- 
 lish in this State, any school, academy, or literary institution^ for 
 the instruction or education of colored persons who are not inhabi- 
 tants of this State ; nor instruct, nor teach, in any school or other 
 literary institution whatsoever, in this State; nor harbor, or board 
 for the purpose of attending, or being taught, or instructed in any 
 such school, academy, or literary institution, any colored person 
 who is not an inhabitant of any tov«'n in this State, without the con- 
 sent in writing first obtained of a majority of the civil authority, 
 and also of the selectmen of the town in which such school, 
 academy, or literary institution is situated," etc. 
 
 " Infamous 1 " cried Zaffiri. " Is it not, Mary ? " 
 
 " Judged by the law of Christ, it is," was the reply ; " but I find 
 it in perfect harmony with the laws of oppression. You observed, 
 also, that the two stripes on the naked body of ]Mr. Hammond, was 
 but the flourish of the slave whip." 
 
 The party took up the discussion of Miss Crandall's persecutions. 
 Even Thad and Alfy entered the lists in behalf of both teacher and 
 pupils. Thad"s conservatism thawed into a generous indignation, 
 strengthened by a warm denunciation of the " Black Law," and its 
 instigators. Evidently the object of the reception had been accom- 
 plished ; a deep impression had been made on the inquisitive minds 
 of the two boys, which would deepen in coming years. When 
 each received a "good night" kiss from Zafflri, she said, — 
 
 " I reckon among my friends, those who hold correct views upon 
 this great sin of slavery. I hope to count you among those friends. 
 Study well upon the subjects of our conversation, and in every 
 year of your lives let the hatred of human bondage grow stronger." 
 
 When the others were left by themselves, Madame Lambelle 
 broke the silence. 
 
 " Oh ! I hope these dear boys will grow to manhood, with an 
 enlightened understanding of the evils of our land, and of the posi- 
 tion of the nation, and of the individual requirements of its citi- 
 
 zens." 
 
 " Madame Lambelle," replied Mr. Buddington, " I have seen 
 many things in a strange light this evening. In behalf of so lovely 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 465 
 
 a herald as yourself, of this new truth, I will pledge my best en- 
 deavors to guide their young feet into the paths you desire. It 
 may, at first, be an awkward office ; but here, I pledge my 
 endeavors. Count me among your friends, madame. Hence- 
 forth, whatever that word may signify, I am an abolitionist^ 
 
 As a delicate vase glows from flames within, so the eyes and 
 features of the beautiful priestess of Freedom lighted by the 
 sudden joy. She arose, approached him, radiant with smiles, say- 
 ing,— 
 
 " I give you my hand." 
 
 Meeting her half way, and taking the hand reverentially, he 
 solemnly said, — 
 
 " Over the new-made grave of my brother I " 
 
 " Filette ! " cried the husky voice of Mary, " meet me at the 
 same altar." 
 
 They met on either side of George and Madame Lambelle — 
 joined hands over theirs ; Mar}^ slowly and solemnly repeating,—- 
 
 " Over the grave of my murdered husband^ I become an aboli- 
 tionist." 
 
 The glory died out of Zaffiri's face. In the character of a 
 prophetess, she asked, — 
 
 " My dear friends, with this oath, can you accept its inseparable 
 consequences ? Will you not shrink from the chrism of persecu- 
 tion, ostracism, and perhaps death ? " 
 
 " We accept all," firmly responded Mr. Buddington. 
 
 "All," clearly responded the white, set lips of Mary." 
 
 " Then we are one in the holy love and support of freedom — 
 true liberty. We may rest upon our pillows to-night, at peace with 
 God, conscience, and the world." 
 
 During the remainder of Zaffiri's visit, a sweeter communion than 
 ever marked the intercourse of the family. Aims and affections 
 were assimilated. Greater than the dread of her arrival, was the 
 regret at her approaching departure. Early the next morning 
 Uncle George drove up to the door a" fiery span of dappled grays, 
 cinctured with shining bells. They drew the long, market sleigh 
 of a neighbor, carpeted and covered with fragrant hay, blankets 
 and robes. Thad donned a satisfied business air; carrying out 
 
466 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 hot bricks — locking doors — tucking in the ladies, — and finally 
 seating himself with Uncle George on the driver's seat. Alfy 
 nestled down by the beautiful madame, as he called her. 
 
 " Two pairs of blue eyes on one seat," as Filette said. 
 
 Fairly launched on the way, Thad braced his feet and took the 
 lines. 
 
 "Nothing conservative about this, ladies," remarked Uncle 
 George. 
 
 " I understand," replied Filette ; " the pretty creatures fly." 
 
 This visit at Filette's home proved the climax of enjoyment. 
 The hale old patriarch and his wife received them with open arms, 
 to blazing hearths and bounteous tables. The elevated tone of 
 conversation was a comfort to grief, strength to weakness, and a 
 guide to doubt. Sturdy justice, and gentle humanity illuminated 
 every sentence. 
 
 "Ah! Mary," whispered Madame Lambelle, " these words are 
 apples of gold in pictures of silver. They are a pure delight." 
 
 A mystery dropped into the afternoon. Neither Mr. Snow nor 
 George Buddington were seen till the tea hour ; the boys were at a 
 neighbor's ; a dreamy, restful quiet pervaded the coterie of ladies. 
 Filette's self-possession lost itself in unusual abstraction, or strange 
 gayety. Mrs. Snow took madame to her motherly heart, chatting 
 pleasantly of farm affairs, and learning from her guest much con- 
 cerning the friends of liberty in New York. Tea hour brought 
 back the deep, cheery, bass voice of Mr. Snow, and the liquid, 
 soulful eyes of George, resting often upon the flitting blushes of 
 Filette. 
 
 At the parting, the gray-haired father said to madame, — 
 
 " Come, my daughter, to our house summer or winter, whenever 
 the city and its fashions weary. Come to the mountains and 
 meadows for rest. Come and drink milk, eat honey, and tell us of 
 the world's struggle for freedom." 
 
 At home again, the guest drew Filette to her boudoir ; long after 
 the stillness of night settled upon the house, they held happy con- 
 verse. 
 
 " Hebe, *' said the lady, "will you not confide to me an explana- 
 tion of the mysterious absence at your father's this afternoon ? We 
 have shared the grief of this abode together; shall we not share 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 467 
 
 its joy ? Shall I guess who loves you ? Ah ! my pretty Hebe ! do 
 not veil those tell-tale eyes. Let me see their soft love-light, the 
 most holy and beautiful gift of Heaven to earth." 
 
 " Suppose, dear madame, that the preliminaries of my marriage 
 were settled this afternoon ? " modestly replied Filette, blushing 
 deeply, 
 
 "Ah! Hebe, I have observed many tokens of this, since my 
 arrival. I have seen that George was not lonely in the kitchen, 
 when left with you. I have seen his gaze wandering after you. I 
 have seen his ready hands lightening your burdens. I have heard 
 the tenderness in his voice, when addressing you, dear girl, and I 
 give you my happiest congratulations ; if, Hebe, if your own heart 
 has found rest in his love. Tell me, is George Buddington the one 
 idol to whom your soul clings without reservation ? " 
 
 " He is, dear lady. George Buddington is my first and only 
 choice. For him I can endure all that life may have, of trials or 
 losses." 
 
 " It is well, Hebe ; it is well ! " She held the shy girl to her 
 heart, and left kisses on her burning cheeks. " Will you not say 
 ' Come,' to me on the day of your wedding ? " 
 
 " I had thought that a lady who has traveled the world over, 
 would not care to witness the humble marriage of a country farmer's 
 daughter j yet, nothing could heighten my pleasure at that event, 
 more than the honor of your presence." 
 
 " Fie ! Hebe. Flattery may wound your friend. Remember 
 that the superficial accomplishments of society are trivial, compared 
 with inherent worth. Let us regard each other as sisters, as we 
 really are, in all that reason, religion, and humanity require. Invite 
 Zaffiri, and thus honor her." 
 
 " One of the graces for a country lassie's wedding ! " laughed 
 Filette. 
 
 " Hush, Hebe ! no more humility ! inform me when my husband 
 and myself shall make the journey." 
 
 " Some time the first of June ; George says in the time of apple 
 blossoms." 
 
468 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE two-story farmhouse of Mr. Snow, crowned the summit 
 of a ridge, whose sloping sides were clothed in spring ver- 
 dure. 
 
 Its red paint and white trimmings made a cheerful landmark on 
 the traveled roads for a long distance. An apple orchard, in full 
 bloom, stretched away to the south of it. On this day, this sunny 
 June day, the old trees heaped with flowery promise, seemed a 
 great attraction, if one could judge by the constant gliding to and 
 fro of the throng of new figures and faces suddenly peopling the 
 apartments. 
 
 On the evening previous, the neighbors had observed lights in 
 every room ; in the front chamber, in the parlor, in the sitting- 
 room, and in the spare bed-room below ; the small-paned windows 
 rejoiced in an illumination. The curtains were raised this morn- 
 ing, and the new faces took observations of clouds and sky. 
 
 The deep, cheery voice of Mr. Snow, the father, was heard, now 
 at the barn, now in the kitchen, and down in the orchard. The 
 mother, in lace cap and white ribbons, moved complacently about 
 the lower rooms, with Mary Buddington in mourning weeds. 
 
 The daughter was in her own chamber. Here, as elsewhere, 
 prevailed the strictest order. Upon the high bed was spread a 
 white dress of jaconet muslin, a white lustring sash, a pair of white 
 kid mitts or gloves reaching to the elbow, a pair of white kid slip- 
 pers, and a bridal veil. 
 
 A light knock at the door was followed by a sweet voice, — 
 
 " Are you ready for me now, pretty Hebe } " 
 
 •' Always ready for jou, Madame Lambelle ; will you enter my 
 plain, little room ? " 
 
 " To be sure ; but I do not like the style of invitation." Holding 
 Filette in her arms and imprinting a kiss' upon each cheek, she 
 insisted upon having no more selfabasement, henceforth and for- 
 ever. " Hebe, this is not penance day. Do you not know that I 
 love you ? that I love the country, and especially these nests of 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE.. 469 
 
 comfort, the red, brown, or white farm-houses? One more request. 
 Call me no longer 'Madame Lambelle." Let me be ' Zafhri," as at 
 home with my husband and my little maid. Ah ! yes, I under- 
 stand, Hebe will confer favors to-day. 
 
 " Now, let us see," she continued, " all is in readiness but the 
 flowers ; they will be brought in soon fresh from the trees. How 
 much I like the idea of these lovely apple-blossoms ! " 
 
 " George says he should be sorry to see me wear orange blos- 
 soms ; their whiteness seems to him like the pallor of consterna- 
 tion at Southern crimes." 
 
 " I, too, dislike orange flowers. Your affianced is growing 
 strong in sentiments of Justice. Mr. Lambelle already has a great 
 affection for him. We have not too much time, Hebe. It is now 
 ten," holding the watch in her hand. The ceremony takes place 
 at eleven. My husband is assisting the groom. Allow me to dress 
 the bride." 
 
 Another knock at the door and Cossetina entered breathless, 
 holding forth her apron full of orchard buds and blossoms. She 
 began to chatter Italian as if she were alone with her mistress, — 
 
 " Ah ! Zaffiri, Guardate qiiei superbe d'lm colo7'c cosi fresco e splcndido 
 vivo ! " 
 
 ^^ Bei fiori,^^ ejaculated the lady; observing the confusion of 
 Cossetina's hair and torn dress, she asked hastily, — 
 
 " Ch^e acca duto? Che cosa ha .? " 
 
 " Sono caduto dalla cima deWal berro al basso e ?ton mi son fatto 
 molto ?nale/" answered the maid. ^^ LWio scappata con una graffia- 
 tura. 
 
 ''Me ne rificresce" responded Zaffiri, with much sympathy. 
 " Segga accante a me .^ " 
 
 '^ Farliame Inglese, Cossetina." 
 
 '* Par la el la Inglese ? " 
 
 " Si J par la Inglese.''^ 
 
 When Filette stood dressed in her chamber for the arrangement 
 of the flowers and veil, a third knock brought a basket filled with 
 apple blossoms. She received them with the compliments of Mr. 
 Buddington and a respectful bow from the bearer. 
 
 " Return my thanks, Issy," requested Filette, blushing, '* and say 
 they are beautiful ! " 
 
470 WHITE MAY, AND ELACK JUNE. 
 
 "A new face," said Zaffiri, *' colored servants?" 
 
 "By no means ; Issy is a Charlestonian ; was freed by his father ; 
 will reside with us at our house in Cloudspire. I am to become 
 his teacher. He was not suited at his former place." 
 
 " I have not seen him since my arrival." 
 
 "No! he came this morning with his guardian. Friend Sterling- 
 worth." 
 
 " Cossetina, give me a blossom with buds." 
 
 " Vuoi tu queir uno' ? " holding up a lovely bunch. 
 
 " Faria Liglese 7nia cara ; that cluster is exquisite. See, some 
 petals on the floor are like delicate, roseate sea shells." 
 
 Meantime a new carpet destined for Cloudspire was unrolled 
 and spread under the branches of a broad-spreading apple-tree in 
 the orchard, blushed with bloom. One by one, and two by two, 
 the party at the house strolled down on the greensward, awaiting 
 George Buddington and his bride. There Mary and her sons, 
 Friend Sterlingworth and Fanny, Richard Beame, Issy Paisley, 
 Simon Link, Deacon Brown and wife. Last of all, Mr. Lambelle, 
 his elegant lady, and Cossetina. 
 
 The lively buzz of conversation was interrupted by the appear- 
 ance of George Buddington and Filette. 
 
 " How beautiful ! " rose to every lip. 
 
 " I never saw a bride in apple blossoms, before." 
 
 " What a superb couple ! " said Mr. Lambelle to Zaffiri. 
 
 They stepped upon the carpet into the mottled shade which 
 folded both in leafy embrace. 
 
 After the ceremony, in " Gods temple,*' as the clergyman styled 
 the orchard, in his prayer, and after tendering congratulations, 
 George Buddington and wife led the party up through sunlight and 
 fragrant shade to the bountiful collation spread in the house which 
 awaits a new New England marriage. Filette was to be taken to 
 her home in Cloudspire that day. The distance was long, and an 
 early hour was appointed for the departure, convoyed by their 
 friends from that town. Simon Link was master of ceromonies 
 at the stables. His gentlemanly dress and manner was so marked 
 that Richard aud Fanny scarcely recognized their friend, waiting 
 in the snow at the foot of the hill after the church mob at the 
 Cloudspire revival. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 47 1 
 
 Issy voluntarily took the part of footman. He said, — 
 
 " I shall do this with pleasure, for m^ friends, which I was once 
 compelled to do for a master." 
 
 " First came to the door George Buddington's curvetting black 
 span and handsome carriage. After Issay's attentions, Zaffiri pro- 
 piated future fates, by throwing after them her own slipper. Fol- 
 lowing them, Friend Sterlingworth and Fanny ; next, Richard and 
 Young Paisley. Last went Simon Link and Thad, carrying the 
 bride's loaf and other wedding cheer. For the first time in many 
 years Mr. Link had a driver. Thad's chief enjoyment of the day's 
 festivhies was holding the lines for a straight twenty-five miles 
 It was the nearest approximation to his cherished " stage-driving," 
 in his experience. 
 
 Mary remained a few days with Mrs. Snow, and then left for- 
 ever the scenes of her married happiness, taking with her Alfy and 
 the tenderly cherished " old Ned," which in his young days had 
 brought her there, a gay and loving bride. 
 
 Filette found, on arriving at her new abode, grassy lawns dotted 
 with clumps of evergreen, terraces, shrubbery in bloom, and a 
 tastefully arranged flower-garden. The house was spacious and in- 
 viting, carpeted throughout, and newly furnished in handsome 
 modern style. Her own room was a bower of beauty and comfort, 
 upholstered with warm colors, velvet and lace. From the windows, 
 a softened line of blue mountains met the sky ; beyond, a fore- 
 ground of intervale and patches of forest. 
 
 In the kitchen, black Hester and Roland welcomed the new mis- 
 tress to shining neatness and savory odors. The dining-room table, 
 set with a sumptuous repast, awaited the party. A bell in the 
 hands of Roland soon summoned them to its delicacies. 
 
 With affectionate pride, George Buddington led his blushing wife 
 to the head of his hitherto lonely table. Standing by his side till 
 the guests were seated, he withdrew a cover from the tea tray and 
 its contents. To her surprise, a glitter of polished silver revealed 
 a costly set of tea and coffee service, the like of which she had 
 never in her simple country life contemplated. 
 
 " Read, Filette," said George ; " and next to your joy in the pos- 
 session of this beautiful gift, will be mine to drink the beverages 
 poured by your hands." 
 
472 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Upon every piece of service she read the inscription, — 
 
 '' Zqffiri.to Heber 
 
 Seeing her hesitation, her husband, who had taken his place at 
 the opposite end of the long table, addressed her, — 
 
 " Your silence is impressive, my charming wife ; more eloquent 
 than words. Let us attend to our evening's hospitalities." 
 
 A few days after, while both walked in the garden during the 
 June twilight, Filette said to George, — 
 
 " Our home far exceeds my expectations. I shall be pleased to 
 invite Zaffiri under its ample roof." 
 
 " I have a ' Zaffiri ' sheltered by its roof ; or I shall have, when 
 you, my Hebe, go in with me from this chilly night air. Come in ; 
 let us confer upon the future." 
 
 He drew her arm within his, and both repaired to the lighted 
 sitting-room. Mary sat quietly reading. 
 
 " I have been reflecting, to-day, upon the vows each took upon 
 us, in Mary's parlor, with herself and Madame Lambelle. You 
 know, I then took upon myself the character of an abolitionist, 
 whatever that term may imply ; and you know, my dear Filette, 
 that I was compelled to this change of sentiment, and it was a 
 total reversion of all I held right, before ; I say, I was compelled 
 to this change by the cold-blooded murder of my innocent brother, 
 James. You know, also, that our oath was taken, in imagination, 
 over his grave. 
 
 " My first step in compliance with that vow, was to take Ishmael 
 Paisley into our family; not as a servant, but to develop his man- 
 hood, and to share with him our privileges, pleasures and pursuits. 
 This I shall do, at any cost. The question now is, in what other 
 manner, and when, shall I manifest fidelity to principle .'' And yet, 
 I hardly know what principles are involved in this moral metamor- 
 phosis! I have been a thoughtless, dogmatic adherent of Party, 
 Church and State, caiing not to examine particularly the grounds 
 of my faith. Richard Beame advises me to subscribe for the Lib- 
 erator — Garrison's paper. What is it Filette; have you ever 
 seen it ? " 
 
 "Yes, indeed! It is a two-edged sword of Freedom! It cuts 
 to the right and left, sparing not. Father says there are no beams 
 in Garrison's eyes, that he cannot discern the mote in others. But, 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 473 
 
 my dear George, do you know that the simple act of taking that 
 paper weekly from this office will subject you to revengeful, crucial 
 persecution ! " 
 
 " I am surprised, Filette ! If one is a free moral agent, can he 
 not choose what he reads ? I know the South would muzzle our 
 mouths, but I trust they will not attempt to bandage our eyes, 
 also." 
 
 "You mistake, George \ Northern infatuation attempts to band- 
 age the eyes of those who would read Garrison's Liberator. And 
 let me suggest, that here in Cloudspire, we may find too much 
 opportunity to manifest fidelity to principle." 
 
 " I have courage, Filette. Certain memories nerve my purpose. 
 To-night I shall write to Boston for the Liberator, and set that 
 electrical battery at work in our family." 
 
 "Mary," said Tvlr. Buddington, " Filette and I have concluded to 
 take our whole family to church, including Paisley, Hester and 
 Roland. There are eight of us, and those square pews, with seats 
 all round, will accommodate all." 
 
 " That is a just conclusion, George," replied his wife. " ' By 
 their fruits ye shall know them ' is the voice of the Scriptures, and 
 the act will only be an exact result of our sentiments. However, 
 we must expect a conflict between the ' negro pew ' under the stairs, 
 and ours, in the centre of the church." 
 
 " Perhaps," rephed her husband ; " we shall see." 
 
 During the week, Issy, Hester and Roland were instructed con- 
 cerning the programme for the Sabbath worship. Issy dropped 
 his eyes to the floor and replied modestly, — 
 
 " I am accustomed to the gallery, madam." 
 
 Filettte replied, — 
 
 " Issy, I cannot appear before God, the loving Father of us all, 
 without carrying with us the one shorn lamb of our flock. You 
 must sit in our pew with us. You must claim the manhood that 
 the Scriptures promise in these words, ' God is no respecter ot 
 persons.'" 
 
 Issy bowed, and hesitatingly assented. 
 
 Hester received the information with pleasant, but derisive 
 laughter. 
 
 " Me sit in your pew, Mrs. Buddington ! Me ! that has been 
 
474 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 scoffed at, on account of my color and poverty, ever since I had a 
 memory ! I dearly love to please you in everything possible, but 
 in this arrangement let me be excused." 
 
 " No, Hester, it is an obligation you owe to yourself, to do this 
 very thing. You really do believe, way down in your heart, your 
 own equality with the rest of mankind. Then it is binding upon 
 you to endeavor to throw off this yoke of oppression, and to take 
 your seat with us in church, as you now have an opportunity." 
 
 " I love you too well, Mrs. Buddington, to do so. I don't wish 
 to bring upon your happy married life a shade of a shadow. If I 
 go and sit in your pew, evil reports will be trumped up about your 
 husband. If I contradict these reports, my word will go for noth- 
 ing ; for outside of two houses in this town, — your house and the 
 doctor's — I am counted a liar and a thief ! " 
 
 " Hester, are you not mistaken in respect to my husband ? " 
 
 " Not in the least ; you see, I've had experience. I've always 
 found that those who looked after my welfare and my boy's, and 
 who treat me with the most respect, are the most talked about ; 
 while the church-members and other men, who pretend to hate us 
 that are colored, insult me everywhere ; and yet they are called ' all 
 right.' " 
 
 Hester looked at her baking, put some wood in the stove, and 
 set a chair for Filette, saying, — 
 
 " As we are all alone in this kitchen, I will explain. The last 
 time I went to meeting in the church, I made a vow that I would 
 never go again. Have you ever heard of William Steele, that 
 come on here from the South, and married the doctor's daughter ? " 
 
 " I have heard George speak of him." 
 
 Here Hester rang out another laugh of derision, and continued. 
 
 " Well, I hiew that man, as pious as he was, better than all 
 Cloudspire knew him. That was the time of the great revival ; 
 that was the time Mr. Buddington was converted. I was working 
 at the doctor's. This Steele was courting the doctor's daughter. 
 The doctor sent me into his office to see to the fire and brush up 
 the stove hearth. William Steele was there, but I went on with my 
 work. Of a sudden, he had his arm around my waist and kissed 
 me ; at the same time he slipped a silver half-dollar in my hand. I 
 suppose I did wrong, but I took it and went out. I wanted to buy 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 475 
 
 me a new, strong dress. All my clothes were second-handed, that I 
 had taken for my low wages, where I could get work ; then I had to 
 take a great many old clothes for Roland. Roland's father is a 
 man in this town. I was young and foolish once, but am wiser, 
 now. His father never gave me a cent to support him ; and I was 
 so poor, and needed a strong dress so much, I took the fifty cents 
 and put it in my pocket, so that with the silver quarter he gave 
 Roland for waiting on him at table, I could buy it, afterwards. I 
 went to meeting, and there stood William Steele telling the people 
 that scientific men said negroes were allied to the brutes ; that was 
 the general opinion, except by a few fanatics, who were making the 
 vain attempt to bring these degraded creatures to a level with 
 themselves. Mrs. Buddington, all that church was listening as 
 solemn as if it was a funeral ! I looked at the religious scowl on his 
 face, and thought how his two eyes shone, when he kissed my 
 cheeks and forehead, and said, 'Take it Hester. One touch of 
 your velvety face,, and a look into your soft eyes, is worth double 
 the money ! ' 
 
 " I forgot I was in the negro pew in church, and laughed out, at 
 his deceitfulness, either in calling me a brute, or kissing me. 
 When the tithing-man came to send me out of church, I let that 
 horrid silver fifty-cent piece fall on the floor with my pocket hand- 
 kerchief. Everybody heard it — everybody afterwards called me 
 a thief ; for nobody paid me in silver money. Since then, I and 
 Roland have half starved for want of a place to work ; but I never 
 told, for the sake of Lucy Clarendon. I loved that girl, and I 
 thought her lot was hard enough, to find out Bill Steele herself 
 without my help. 
 
 " Since I came to live with you, I lack neither bread nor wages ; 
 and do you see, Mrs. Buddington, that I do not like to bring 
 trouble to this house, and wa7it to myself and Roland, by going to 
 church and sitting in your pew ? " 
 
 " But, Hester, we should do right, if others do wrong. It is 
 right for you to listen to the gospel of Christ. It is right to as- 
 sume to ourselves, all the rights of a common humanity. I have 
 a respect for your scruples, but I still persuade you to go with us. 
 Think of it, Hester, and dare to assert your right for Roland's 
 sake, as well as your own. Teach him to respect himself." 
 
476 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 On the following Sunday, when the last notes of the church bell 
 pealed out upon the sunny air, there came up among the loiterers 
 about the old green door George Buddington's carriage and span, 
 followed by a bright wagon and a spanking bay. These two vehi- 
 cles contained all the members of his family. Hats were raised to 
 his wealth and liberal support of the church. Some admired his 
 bride, others his horses, and others reflected that God would be well 
 pleased to see the negro pew well filled. 
 
 George Buddington's pew was more richly furnished than any 
 other — the floor was carpeted; the scarlet cushioned seats were 
 broken at intervals with restful supports for the arm. Into this 
 the whole family was led, Issy being seated next to Filette, with 
 Mary on his left. Roland's dancing eyes shone between Thad and 
 Alfy. Hester sat at the left of Mary. 
 
 Soon the heavenly peace of the sanctuary became ruffled. 
 Many a devout prayer, destined for the blue vaults above, fell back 
 to earth on broken wings. Much Christian serenity changed to 
 wrathful agitation. Boasted brotherly love suddenly darkened 
 into vindictive hate. Many a tired man and woman missed their 
 Sunday morning slumber, and the voice of the preacher fell upon 
 heedless ears. 
 
 At noon, Mr. Buddington received several admonitions from the 
 church, as to the impropriety of his course, but the afternoon audi- 
 ence saw the sight repeated. 
 
 Before the close of the week, a committee of remonstrance called 
 upon the offender, earnestly requesting him to abandon the step he 
 had taken. A gentle firmness warded off every appeal. 
 
 " Gentlemen, he said, " I must obey the dictates of my con- 
 science. My convictions are clear in this matter. If Paisley, Hes- 
 ter and Roland, must leave my pew, I shall be forced to leave also. 
 I have taken up the cause of the oppressed, and if I connot main- 
 tain that cause in the church, I must maintain it out of the 
 church." 
 
 " But, this sitting together in the sa77ie pew savors of amalgama- 
 tion^ and this is the offence against which our Southern bretheren 
 vehemently complain. Amalgamation is the crime so distasteful to 
 them. They accuse us of desiring the opportunity for that sin. 
 At the same time, we are commanded in the Scriptures, to ' avoid 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 477 
 
 the appearance of evil.' This is accomplished by openly sepa- 
 rating ourselves from the degraded race — and by keeping the 
 negro in his proper place, which is not on an equality with white 
 persons." 
 
 Deacon Steele was one of the committee. He had been down 
 to Alderbank tavern during the morning, and now directed his 
 purple nose and winking gaze to the demolition of Mr. Budding- 
 ton's fanaticism. 
 
 "My brother William," he said, with some bombast, " instructed 
 me in my duty to the black race, when he was on from Carolina at 
 the time of our great revival. He said it was imperative that we 
 should treat them with the same kindness that we manifest to our 
 animals j that the cicrse is on them j that they are, by nature, 
 nought but ' hewers of wood and drawers of water.' He instructed 
 us, also, that we were making too much of Hen Hughes, that 
 worked for us ; you knew him, Buddington. So I lowered Hen's 
 wages, and fed him plainer food. William said the Southerners 
 insist that amalgamation is at the bottom of all this disturbance on 
 the nigger question. Now, you see, Buddington," renewing his 
 sleepy gaze and bracing himself by throwing one dogmatical leg 
 over the other, " we have one Bible, one Constitution, one God ; 
 that is, the South and the North, alike. We of the North ought to 
 strive for peace with the South. They are our brethren. They 
 detest such wicked indulgence and proximity to a slavish race, as 
 was publicly seen in your pew a' Sunday. Let the niggers go into 
 their own pew, under the stairs. Don't, I beg of you, blot the fair 
 character of your young and pretty wife, by allowing that young 
 mulatto to sit by her side in the meeting-house. Since you was 
 converted, you've been a powerful auxilum in the church. Let us 
 persuade you to stand on the Lord's side, and to do no more the 
 works of darkness." 
 
 The deacon actually shed a few drivelling tears. 
 
 " I appeal to you, as to a brother, Buddington. What do you 
 say ? " 
 
 " I have much to say," replied Squire Buddington ; " but, per- 
 haps, it would be useless. How^ever, there are two points I intend 
 to make. Young Paisley contradicts in his own person every accu- 
 sation of the Southerners. He is the son of a Southerner, from a 
 
478 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Southern city. His rich, white father brought him to New York, 
 and left money for his future education. Those Southerners are the 
 very o?ies who practice amalgamation. And, worse still, who multiply 
 and replenish their slave-coifers with their own children, the off- 
 spring of their own flesh and blue blood." 
 
 " Now, Buddington, you must know this is all a fabrication by 
 the abolitionists ; we do not credit it," cried all, unanimously. 
 
 " Gentlemen, I can bring before your eyes the * free papers ' of 
 Ishmael Paisley, signed by his father's own hand when he made 
 him free ; but I prefer not." 
 
 " Well then, Mr. Buddington, allowing the supposition that the 
 tall mulatto, or Paisly, as you call him, has a respectable parentage, 
 that black Hester you had with you in your pew is guilty of the 
 grossest crimes. She is a liar and a thief; has been turned out 
 of even the negro seat for breaking out into one of her silly giggles. 
 She dropped a silver half-dollar out of her pocket, which she must 
 have stolen, for nobody pays her cash for her work," said Deacon 
 Steele. 
 
 " And yet," coolly replied Mrs. Buddington, who had previously 
 entered the room, " some white man in this town is the father of 
 Roland, her boy. This one case is sufficient proof, that while the 
 lips profess a prejudice to color, the heart has it not. Gentlemen," 
 she continued, " his father, whoever he may be, has as much sold 
 Roland to poverty and shame, as the Southerner sells his own 
 brown children in the shambles. Pardon me, gentlemen, but my 
 gra3'-haired father taught me to sow the truth, fearlessly and hope- 
 fully, on all soils." 
 
 Deacon Steele's nose was purpled more deeply, his face burned, 
 apparently, with righteous indignation. He rose quickly to his feet, 
 and addressing the committee, said hurriedly, — 
 
 " Let us retire, my friends. Our duty is done, whether this 
 family hear or forbear." 
 
 Filette had early received numerous calls from the ladies of the 
 town \ for they desired to secure to themselves the friendship of 
 the mistress of so fine an establishment as George Buddington's 
 After the pew affair, calls ceased, and the " stra?ige woman,'' as 
 she was termed, was left to herself. 
 
 Another friendship awaited her, however, which amply compen- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 479 
 
 sated for the lost aggregate. One quiet September afternoon, 
 Doctor Clarendon stopped his horse at the gate, came up the walk 
 with a lady in mourning, and at the open door, introduced " Mrs. 
 Steele," adding, — 
 
 " My daughter has been out very little since her return from the 
 South, but she has conceived a strong desire to call upon Ivlrs. 
 Buddington, and relieve her, in a measure, from the ostracism 
 which at present prevails in this town. Lucy has had some experi- 
 ence, madam ; and I believe in her you will find the noble senti- 
 ments of yourself and husband reciprocated. I am going my 
 rounds, and will call for her in a few hours. Adieu.'' 
 
 That call was the initiation of an attachment lasting through 
 life. 
 
 Lucy and Filette soon had no secrets reserved the one from 
 the other. Twin spirits, they became a mutual strength and sup- 
 port. 
 
 Doctor Clarendon and his wife were greatly changed by Lucy's 
 return, so that an intimacy sprung up between the Buddingtons 
 and Clarendons till they became of one mind and purpose. 
 
 Since Squire Buddington's return from the St. Louis outrage, 
 his thoughts turned with mysterious affection to Richard Beame. 
 On the day of the revival mob, he, too, had scoffed at him and his 
 words. Now, they had a new meaning. He sought Richard out, 
 confided to him the secret carefully guarded from others, learned 
 from his lips the dark history of American oppression, and con- 
 ferred with him upon his late determination and future course. 
 
 Thus, Fanny was led into the acquaintance of Mr. Buddington 
 and the doctor's families. Her clear and severe ideas of ethics 
 caused her to form, with Filette and Lucy, a trio of strength and 
 inflexibility in the adjustment of human rights. 
 
 Simon Link, or " Mr. Link " as he was now respectfully called, 
 was a ready coadjutor in all good works which the others planned. 
 The "rich drovier,' according to the patronomatology of the town, 
 was absent during a large portion of the year, but ever on his 
 return was welcomed into the charmed circle of fanatics, around 
 which the churches and the rest of the town drew a broad margin 
 of isolation. 
 
 After the long drive from Mr. Snow's to Cloudspire, on the wed- 
 
480 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 ding-day, Mr. Link yearned for Thad's presence. He plead with 
 Mary and his Uncle George that he should live with him for one 
 year, at least. 
 
 '* My house is large and empty," he said. " I want to hear his 
 lively feet running over it. I want to teach him to love the dumb 
 critters in my barns. I like to hear his young voice among the 
 neighing horses and the innocent lowing of my cattle. Then, you 
 see, I shall make only one trip West, this cool, fall weather, and I'll 
 take him with me and let him see the world. Why, Mrs. Budding- 
 ton, I'll watch over him as carefully as I would over a handsome 
 colt. In the winter, he shall go to school every day it keeps. I 
 think Thad takes to my kind of business, and likes it. You see I 
 am alone, and need him. What do you say } " 
 
 So Mary gave up Thad, with the assurance of her brother-in-law 
 that it would be a good school for him ; and Simon Link's solitary 
 life blossomed into happy hours with Thad, and the companionship 
 of the three families before mentioned. 
 
 Early in the fall, the pastor of Cloudspire received a letter from 
 the Rev. Edmund Stone of South Carolina, whom the reader will 
 remember as the former revival preacher; now the spiritual adviser 
 of slaves in that State. 
 
 By a letter from Deacon Steele, he had learned the aspect of 
 affairs in Cloudspire. In reply, Mr. Stone stated that his mind 
 was " profoundly moved ; that ^a?rs were growing up among the 
 7i>/ieaf of Cloudspire church ; that the church should be imme- 
 diately expurged of false doctrines and their promulgators ; that 
 the defiant act of George Buddington and Doctor Clarendon, in 
 taking negroes into their pews, was heresy to the Constitution and 
 the foundations of American institutions ; that the placing the de- 
 graded race destined by the decrees of God for slavery, on an 
 equality with ' Anglo Saxons,' would inflame the South to justifi- 
 able acts of revenge ; that the most odious feature of that fanatical 
 movement, was the evident aim of amalgamation ; that he (Stone) 
 was filled with sorrow, that the church wherein God had wrought 
 so many mighty works should sit in the dust of humiliation for that 
 sin which is not only the dread of the high-toned Southerner, but 
 repulsive to every pure and Christian soul." 
 
 He closed by an earnest appeal to the pastor and deacons, to set 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 48 1 
 
 about casting that odium from their midst, all of which the Cloud- 
 spire pastor communicated to Mr. Buddington. 
 
 Reports of this letter reached the doctor. Conferences were 
 held on both sides, and conclusions attained. 
 
 Lucy Steele, a few weeks previous, had followed Filette' s exam- 
 ple, and had taken Bin ah into the doctor's pew with herself. 
 
 Richarad and Fanny drove occasionally from Alderbank up to 
 the church, with the two brown children of Henry Hughes. By 
 the doctor's invitation, they took seats in his pew. 
 
 An ominous sky lowered over the face of the church. There- 
 fore, by the continued advice of Edmund Stone of South Carolina, 
 a second committee, reinforced by the pastor, hastily repaired to 
 the house of Squire Buddington, for the doctor's pew was consid- 
 ered only the flagrant shadow of the Buddington offence. He was 
 the chief criminal of all. 
 
 Squire Buddington met this committee with a truce, which, 
 though far from satisfactory, each one was forced, mentally to ac- 
 knowledge, was his ultimatum. 
 
 "Gentlemen," he said, "it is useless to repeat arguments. 
 "Whoever obeys laws or customs which are not in harmony with 
 the benificent laws of our Creator, steps aside from the paths of 
 rectitude. I consider that He has made all nations of one blood ; 
 that, as His Word teaches. He is no respecter of persons. It is 
 our common belief that the gospel should be preached to every 
 creature." 
 
 "Yes, yes! Mr. Buddington," interrupted one of the number, 
 " we believe that ; but these negroes can hear the gospel if they 
 sit alone by themselves." 
 
 Here the pastor threw in a remark uttered in an oily, persuasive 
 voice, — 
 
 " For the sake of brotherly love towards the excitable South, we 
 should desist from offences of this kind. Your example has al- 
 ready been followed by Doctor Clarendon and young Beame. 
 Your sitting with those negroes has a dark look on the face of it. 
 There are two things, in respect to which the South, as a body, 
 are in constant terror. Insurrection in their own borders^ and 
 amalgamation or a mixture of bloods, here ! They are sensitive and 
 watchful, desiring to preserve slavery, which has been handed down 
 
482 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 to US from the earliest times, within the bounds of propriety. Let 
 me entreat you, Mr. Buddington, to desist from angering the 
 South." 
 
 " Thank you," replied the squire. I must take conscience and 
 experience for my guide, and will therefore finish what I intended 
 to say at the beginning. I have resolved to withdraw from the 
 church in which 1 could not cease from giving offence. Gentle- 
 men, I have nothing farther to offer." 
 
 Deacon Steele blew his purple nose, wiping away religious tears, 
 and said, — 
 
 "The cause of Zion will suffer a great loss in your withdrawal ; 
 but having faithfully borne our message, we are compelled to ac- 
 quiesce." 
 
 Before Saturday night, the news, on the swift wings of gossip, 
 flew over the town. Farmers stopped their loads of wood and 
 cider in the highway, to congratulate each other on the removal of 
 the scandal. 
 
 " That letter from that revival preacher in Caroliny did the 
 work, you see." 
 
 ''Yes," was the reply, " and our minister is the right kind, too ! " 
 
 Others, too worldly to stop teams, called out with the "Go 'long, 
 haw — there! Gee! No more nig2:ers in the king's pew, now!" 
 and struck into a shrill, victorious whistle. 
 
 Prudent wives threw on their shawls, took their knitting, and 
 ran over to the neighbors, to say how glad they were that those 
 niggers would not be seen in church any more. 
 
 " I declare," sa3's one, "that yeller feller is a temptation to have 
 in any church ! he's a'most white, and his hair curls like a doll's ! 
 I threw a s"archin<:c look over the meetin'-house, several times Sun- 
 days, and I see the girls all a lookin' at him." 
 
 "I know," was the earnest reply. *• I've seen the same, and I 
 shook my head at 'em several times. The girls have all got it 
 that he is a Southerner's son. I overheard my Sarah and your 
 Anna telling how handsome he is. I offered up a silent prayer 
 then, that the temptation might be removed, and I believe my 
 prayer is answered." 
 
 ''That rich Buddington is going to leave the church." 
 
 "I guess there isn't much danger of Deacon Steele's girl, Mary, 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 483 
 
 looking at that mulatto, for she's taught better ; her Uncle William, 
 when he was on from the South, made the deacon forbid Mary 
 from speaking to that black Henry Hughes, unless to give him an 
 order. I noticed she sat with her back that way, to that mulatto." 
 
 " Speakin' of Mary Steele, do you know — " The visitor lowered 
 her voice to a whisper, " I would'nt dare tell anybody but you, 
 that I ever had such a thought, — do you know that, sometimes, I 
 think white people look like niggers ? Mary used to learn that 
 thieving Hester's Roland his letters, Sunday noons, over there un- 
 der the stairs ; and I've said to myself, 'She looks more like him, 
 than his mother, Hester, does ! ' " 
 
 I don't know as I've seen white folks look like black ones, but I've 
 seen the black ones look like white folks. I should hate, dread- 
 fully, to have my Sarah look like a black person," 
 
 Everybody rejoiced that the dragon had been cast out. 
 
 On Sunday morning the peace of Cloudspire religion brooded 
 over the town. It was a lovely Sabbath, robed in the purple haze 
 of Indian summer. The very trees seemed to have cast their 
 bright garments in the way, and over the lawns, for the feet of the 
 victorious followers of Christ, and the tramp of their horses. 
 
 Happy knots in the sunshine about the wide-open double green 
 door, gradually dissolved and passed into the sanctuary, to the last 
 solemn tolling of the bell, that seemed to proclaim upon the ame- 
 thystine air, "The Lord reigneth! Let the inhabitants of the 
 earth be glad." 
 
 Happy thought! Squire Buddington's pew was empty. Lo ! 
 during the short hush before the services, heels of a swift horse 
 threw up the rustling leaves ; soft footsteps came up the broad 
 aisle ; Paisley, Hester and Roland took seats in the vacant pew. 
 A moment later, Richard Beame, Fanny, and the two brown children 
 of Henry Hughes, followed, and took seats in the same place. 
 
 Blank consternation appeared upon the faces of the young men 
 and the elders. Evidently, love's labor was lost. By degrees, 
 wrath, the imps of wrath, hate, vindictiveness, malice, and resent- 
 ment sprang up from their hearts, and sat their distorted shapes 
 upon the faces of the worshipping congregation, like the fantastic, 
 grotesque, and frightful gargoyles of -the Middle Ages which leered 
 from the cornices of sacred editices. 
 
484 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Richard Beame carried away with him in memory, from that 
 purple morning, some of those writhing faces as incentives to the 
 darinof course of his stern future. After the benediction, and 
 after Richard and Fanny drove away with their charges, Hester 
 took the lunch basket, and with Paisley and Roland sat down upon 
 the fallen mantle of a glowing maple. 
 
 The old meeting-house was surrounded with a clean, modulating 
 greensward, sprinkled with clustered trees. At summer and 
 autumn noons it became a lively panorama. Children gaily dressed, 
 girls with wandering eyes, sun-browned youths assuming cockney 
 airs, matrons and fathers were standing or flitting about. 
 
 To-day, the music of rustling leaves was unremitting. Bevies of 
 pretty misses and children swept around and past the maple over- 
 shadow'ing Issy. Many a bright-lipped maiden in passing, dropped 
 a silvery " How do you do, Hester," while their glances fell kindly 
 upon the beautiful Issy, like blessings. Groups of children 
 walked slowly past, and in low voices, ventured to say, "Where do 
 you live, now, Roland ? " for they felt that his lot was as unsettled 
 as the breeze-blown leaves on the church lawn. 
 
 Had they been allowed to follow the promptings of their Christ- 
 like love and innocence, they would have importuned Roland to 
 walk with them. Hand in hand with the town's outcast, they would 
 have sought pleasant nooks and sunny spots, mingling their happy 
 laughter with his. 
 
 A few matrons passed at a proper distance, and with curious 
 eyes discovered that there was spread before each one of the 
 branded trio a snowy napkin, on which awaited a wheat bread 
 sandwich, and an ample piece of frosted cake ! This discovery was 
 the cause of the bristltng up of a regiment of exclamation points — 
 ' horribile dictu's. * 
 
 Just before the tolling of the bell for afternoon worship, five men 
 slowly approached the solitary group under the maples. 
 
 Hester whispered, — 
 
 " I know every one of those men ; they are the committee that 
 came to Mr. Buddington's." 
 
 " So do I," whispered Roland, " but I'm not afraid of 'em." 
 
 "Hush — sh ! " answered Hester, under her breath. 
 
 The committee came up, formed around, and looked down upon 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 485 
 
 them, as the American eagle is supposed to hover and settle down 
 
 upon his prey. 
 
 " Young man " said the chairman, addressing Issy, " be you a 
 
 Southener's son ? " 
 
 Issy, his eyes still fixed upon the ground, replied, — 
 
 " I^suppose I am, sir ; a great many persons besides my mother 
 told me so in my native city." 
 
 " What color was your mother, boy ? " 
 
 " Black, sir." 
 
 " Where is your mother, now .-* " 
 
 " Dead, sir." 
 
 " Then your father was a white man ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 *' Do you think your father, if he was here, would want you to 
 sit in the pew with him ? " 
 
 " I don't know, sir; he wanted my mother about him." 
 
 Here, Hester broke into one of her uncontrollable laughs, that 
 once caused her expulsion from the church, catching up the nap- 
 kin to her mouth to stop the bubbling sin as best he could. 
 
 ''- Hester," spoke one of the committee, a head shorter than the 
 others, and whose tones were in the last shrill notes of an ex- 
 hausted bagpipe, " Hester, I say, if you were half-witted, you ought 
 to learn by this time not lo giggle on the Sabbath, as if it were a 
 week day, nor to treat a committee of the church in this way." 
 
 "This foolishness only verifies the incapacitated brain of the 
 race ! " soothingly interposed a gaunt, black-gloved member ; *' let 
 us attend to the case in hand." 
 
 " What brought you North, boy ? " 
 
 Issy had risen and stood respectfully before his interlocutors. 
 
 " IMy white sister was my owner, and she mortgaged me, sir. 
 My father paid the mortgage and brought me North, because he 
 said, ' if I was sold to owners they might treat me cruelly.' " 
 
 " What did your sister mortgage you for? " 
 
 " To buy dresses, sir." 
 
 " How came she to own you ? " 
 
 " I was given to her, that I might be raised in the family." 
 
 " Well, it's pretty near bell-time ; we're come to tell you three, 
 
486 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 that you'd better go into the negro seats under the stairs, this af- 
 ternoon. Mr. Buddington's left the church." 
 
 '• I should not like to go there without Mr. Buddington's orders," 
 modestly replied Issy, gracefully raising his hat from the silken 
 waves beneath. " He will continue to pay for the pew, that we 
 may hear the gospel preached." 
 
 *' He told us to sit there," clamored Roland, peering at them 
 with eyes as bright as a squirrel's cracking nuts. " I like the red 
 cushions best ; and Mrs. Buddington has named the pew for us. 
 What's the name, Issy.''" 
 
 "The ' Refuge of Oppression,' Roland." 
 
 "Then his wife has set you up not to go into the pew under the 
 stairs ? What has a woman to do with church affairs ? " questioned 
 Deacon Steele, tartly. 
 
 " She didn't set us up, Deacon Steele," hastily replied Roland, 
 beating the leaves to a lively dance with a decayed branch. '^ She 
 didn't set us up. Issy and mother offered to sit under the stairs, 
 but I said, ' 1 wanted to set in Mr. Buddington's red-cushioned 
 pew.' She didn't set us up, did she, Issy .'' " 
 
 " Far from that, sir. Mr. Buddington concluded not to sit with 
 us, — it made trouble, but he said we must hear the gospel preached, 
 and he wished us to have a comfortable seat ; also, that he paid 
 fifty dollars before, and will now pay for this pew one hundred 
 dollars." 
 
 " That's a generous offer, but his money won't buy liberty to 
 commit sin before the altar of the Lord. Why, bless me, if you 
 should continue to sit there, the whole church will be pulled down 
 over your heads ! " 
 
 " Do you mean the church will be pulled down to-da}^, sir ? " 
 timidly inquired Paisley. 
 
 "Not to-day, on the Sabbath. No! We keep the Sabbath. 
 But mind, this church will not be baulked or bribed. Now, will 
 you three go where the good juldgment and kindness of the North 
 and South place you, in a pew by yourselves? " 
 
 " We do sit in a pew by ourselves, sir." 
 
 " Under the stairs I '^ thundered the tall man in black gloves. 
 
 " I prefer to go into Mr. Buddington's pew, this afternoon." 
 
 The bell began its call for all loiterers to gather ; solemnly, at 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 487 
 
 first, it called the attention of the straggling flock ; then it seemed 
 to bellow forth wrath to listening ears; its heavy iron tongue 
 swung to and fro, with the volubility of a parrot. The people 
 heard the voice above their heads, saying, — 
 
 " ^F^ a://// «;z/z//^//^z/^— annihilate — annihilate ! We will anni- 
 hilate — annihilate — annihilate — late — late — late ! We will 
 annihilate the outcasts and their friends —friends — ends —the 
 outcasts and their friends — friends — ends ! '' 
 
 Keeping step to this cantata of the bell, the committee left the 
 marked m'aple and crossed the lawn to the green door. 
 
 Hester rose from her sitting on the ground, which she had 
 maintained in their presence, and remarked, — 
 
 "There's the tithing-man come out to meet 'em, and they're 
 shaking their heads. I wonder if we shall be turned out, this af- 
 ternoon." ,11, 1 
 
 " I don't know," replied Issy ; " those Northern bloodhounds 
 have tried us, and they've gone oft now. on another scent." 
 
 "I don't care if they do!" flashed Roland. "It's pleasanter 
 out here than in there, and they can't drive us away from ou' doors, 
 
 can they?" 
 
 "Yes, child," bitterly responded Issy. "In the South, they 
 drive us' into the rivers and lakes, and into sand-banks. To speak 
 the truth, I don't care to hear the white men's gospel preached ; 
 there is not one drop of Jesus' love in it, for us.'' 
 
 However, the trio went up the aisle again, amidst grim faces that 
 glared at them like the ferocious eyes of wild beasis in their 
 coverts. The tithing-man did not molest, and at the close of wor- 
 ship the swift-footed bay, driven by Mr. Buddington himself, carried 
 them away home. 
 
 On one of those lovely, October days, when Nature seems intoxi- 
 cated with sunshine and colors, and when Filette longed for the 
 companionship of Lucy, strangely enough, Lucy came. Tripping 
 up the steps to the piazza with sympathizing warmth, she de- 
 
 clared ^^~ 
 
 "I could not stay av/ay longer. I am weary of the sight of those 
 staring windows in that unsightly mass of deception, they call the 
 church. That is in front of our house, you know ; and the grave- 
 
488 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 yard, rank with weeds and leaning, moss-grown stones, is too 
 severe a monitor for my happiness." 
 
 " I think you must have con>e at my spirit's bidding, for I yearned 
 to hear your voice and look in your eyes, to-day," responded 
 Filette. 
 
 " Don't look into my eyes till the spell that is On them is irra- 
 diated with the amber and .crimson light that drops from these 
 trees, and with the cheerful beauty of your surroundings, Filette." 
 
 ''Then let us remain out, until the balm of summer pervades 
 our feelings. I will bring Mary; she is suffering too. It is near 
 the anniversary of Her husbahd's departure for Texas, and his 
 consequent death. She must come with Alfy." 
 
 " Roland, also, if Alfy ; for they are always together. Children's 
 voices exorcise gloom." 
 
 "And I will run around to the kitchen for Binah and Hester; 
 Binah came with me." 
 
 So the pleasant home was left to itself. 
 
 "Let us go among these yellow copses of birches and aspens, 
 and among the dark clusters of evergreen hemlocks." 
 
 " And where the sumacs are dropping rubies," replied Filette. 
 
 " Down by the brook, too, where the mosses and feathery ferns 
 are, mother," added Alfy's sweet voice. 
 
 "Look at Alfy," Lucy whispered to Filette, "as his beautiful 
 face turns to his mother. Alfy is a lovely poem, writ by the hand 
 divine." 
 
 " And a forehead fair and saintly 
 Which two blue eyes undershine, 
 Like meek prayers, before a shrine — 
 
 Yet, child-simple, undefiled, 
 Frank, obedient — waiting still 
 On the turning of your will." 
 
 Roland rushed up to Filette, holding above his head a white 
 
 violet. 
 
 "Look ! look ! Mrs. Buddington, I found a white violet V^ 
 "True, Roland! a white violet in October is a rarity. I think 
 
 it must be a good omen ior you, my boy. Give it to our guest, 
 
 Miss Lucy." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 489 
 
 " How- happy the children are. I think this amalgamated walk 
 will be one psalm of our lives." 
 
 " A psalm as acceptable to the Creator as one of David's," re- 
 marked Lucy. " I agree that this week-day psalm of our lives will 
 be far more acceptable to Heaven, than those weak-witted, over- 
 strained psalms of Watt's, which Cloudspire church whines out 
 with dismal drawl, every Sabbath ; this, for instance." 
 
 After an echoing laugh, in which the hemlocks joined, she re 
 peated " The Filgriniage of the Saints y 
 
 " Lord ! what a wretched land is this, 
 That yields us no supply ; 
 No cheering fruits, no wholesome trees. 
 Nor streams of living joy. 
 
 But prickly thorns through all the ground 
 
 And mortal poisons grow ; 
 And all the rivers that are found, 
 
 With dangerous waters flow. 
 
 Yet the dear path to Thine abode, 
 
 Lies through this horrid land ; 
 Lord ! we would keep the heavenly road. 
 
 And run at Thy command. 
 
 Our souls shall tread the desert through, 
 
 With undiverted feet ; 
 And faith, and flaming zeal, subdue 
 
 The terrors that we meet. 
 
 By glimmering hopes, and gloomy fears 
 
 We trace the sacred road, 
 Through dismal deeps and dangerous snares. 
 
 We make our way to God." 
 
 Filette stood among the white boles of a cluster of birches. The 
 whole party were overshadowed by its illuminating gold. Alfy 
 came up at the first verse, holding between his thumb and finger, 
 a blue violet. At the close, he asked with terror in his wondering 
 look, — / 
 
 " Where is that place, auntie? " 
 
 "'Taint here ! " called out Roland, dancing around Hester; "if 
 it was, there wouldn't be no white nor blue viohts:'' 
 
 " Where ^o you thmk that place is, Binah ? " queried Lucy. 
 
49° WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " Dat place, full ob thorn and pisen, and dismal s\vamp,'be down 
 South, where de slabe run way from oberseer whip ! Dare ain't no 
 odder, bad as dat." 
 
 " What is your opinion, Hester ? " 
 
 " I should think that was the path I've been struggling through 
 to get bread, all my life." 
 
 "There, we've all guessed, now tell us the riddle! " shouted 
 Roland, amidst a general outburst of glee. 
 
 " My friends, that terrible, ^/<^^;;ri', thorny, poison, barre?t route, is 
 the route the^loudspire church is taking to Heaven ! " said Lucy. 
 " We think it is a wrong way. There is a better one. Our pleas- 
 ant route to-day, through purple haze and golden sunshine, with 
 happy and laughing voices, is the right direction. Let us move 
 
 on." 
 
 Roland threw up his hat, and ran ahead with Alfy. 
 
 " I 'clar, I don't want go to Heaben dat oder road. Wants to 
 go wid ]\Iiss Lucy," said Binah. 
 
 " And /with Mrs. Buddington,'^ said Hester. 
 
 By this time the boys were calling from the brook-side, — 
 
 " Come ! come ! where the mosses are. Come get the ferns." 
 
 Down into the "rushy dell" they plunged, enraptured with the 
 narrow babbling brook and its green, ferny fringes, hunting mosses 
 under the willows, or reaching for the bright scarlet berries of the 
 bitter-sweet swinging above their heads. 
 
 Roland, the pioneer, tired of mosses, led off Miss Lucy and 
 Hester over the brook, and up the opposite hill, crested by a chest- 
 nut grove, anxious lest the "bandit squirrel " should smuggle all the 
 nuts away. 
 
 Alfy wandered up the little stream, drawing along with him, 
 Mary, Filette and Bmah. Suddenly approaching a low copse, over- 
 grown with vines, he ran back to his mother. The wildest fear was 
 stamped upon his waxen face. 
 
 " Oh ! mother, somebody is there under the alders, dead ! in 
 rao:2ed clothes ! " 
 
 A thought of her husband's untimely grave caused her to 
 shudder ; quick suspicion of a foul wrong blanched her face, which 
 was turned appealingly to Filette. 
 
 '•'' Somebody dead I ^' ^\i^ whispered. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 49 1 
 
 "What shall we do, Binah ? " asked Filette. "Will you go with 
 me to the copse ?" 
 
 " Sartin, missis ; nobody dead in dis Ian' ; Marse Alfy 'stook ; 
 somebody sleep." 
 
 They went together. Binah bent down and saw a dark brown 
 arm, bare to the shoulder for lack of the sleeve ; it was thrown over 
 a dark face half buried in. the leaves, which had evidently been 
 brought there for a purpose. 
 
 " Who is you ? " called Binah. " What for you sleep ? Who is 
 you ? " 
 
 Rapidly the arm fell ; the figure crept out at the other side of 
 the copse, and crawled away among the undergrowth of alders and 
 tangled vines. 
 
 '• Don't run 'way, pore brudder ! " called Binah, speeding on 
 after him ; " don* run' way — Binah been slabe — been whip — 
 been sell — we'se all frien' — ebry one — come wid Binah." 
 
 The fleeing man took a few more rapid steps over the crackling 
 branches. Binah followed slowly at a distance, then halted, and 
 turned upon her a pitiful look. 
 
 '•' Come back," said Binah. " Dese white ladies love we black 
 folks — pity we — walk wid we. You'se hungry — dey gib you 
 meat ; you'se naked — dey gib you close. Come out er cle bush — 
 come in de house." 
 
 Pausing step by step on the leaves and breaking twigs, he drew 
 near as if charmed in spite of his fears, by her inviting voice. 
 
 " Come near," persuaded Binah, extending her hand ; " two 
 mo' black ones up on de hill dar, pickin' ches'nut." 
 
 He spoke not a word, but stealthily scanned the deep dell with 
 his scared brown eyes. 
 
 Binah took a step or two nearer, and in an undertone, asked 
 again,— 
 
 " Who is you ? is you slabe, run away .'* " 
 
 " Run'way to freedom," he replied. 
 
 " Dis don' 'pear much like freedom, hidin' here in dis gulch, 
 on de leaves, like a patridge. How long you trabel ? " 
 
 " Dunno ; long time." 
 
 '• Whar you raised ? " 
 
 " Virginny." 
 
492 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " Whar you ri^n way to ? " 
 
 "Canada." 
 
 " Where be Canada ? " 
 
 " Dunno." 
 
 " How you fin' Candy, when you dunno ? " 
 
 " Foller de Nort' Star." 
 
 " Wha's matter wid your lef arm ? " 
 
 " White man shoot me ; say I tief." 
 
 " I know ; de white men's lay all dere own sin to we. Come, 
 speak to dese ladies — dey cure you arm." 
 
 Both approached and met under the dark shelter of a hem- 
 lock. 
 
 '• Come," said Bin ah to Mary, " speak to my poor brudder. Got 
 no frein' — naked — hungry — fraid — arm broke wid de white 
 man's gun." 
 
 Their hearts yearned w^ith pity which welled to their eyes, on 
 the contemplation of the hunted, tattered unit of humanity in their 
 presence. One coat sleeve was gone; the other was torn open to 
 the shoulder, to give opportunity to do something for the shattered 
 bone and festering wound. His pantaloons hung in shreds above 
 his ankles, torn by the briers and brush of the refugee's path ; his 
 feet were torn and bare ; he held the remnant of a hat in his right 
 hand, and dropped his gaze upon the ground, asking nothing. 
 
 "What is your name, poor fellow? " asked Filette. 
 
 " Bob, missis." 
 
 " What is your other name ? " 
 
 " Dat all, missis." 
 
 " Can you trust to us, Robert ? We have three colored ones 
 living with us now ; one of them is from the South. He was a 
 slave there. My husband is your freind. Can you trust to us, 
 Robert ? " 
 
 "I 'spects I can, missis." 
 
 'i You must have suffered from the cold in the woods, these fall 
 nights." 
 
 "De leabes, missis." 
 
 Filette and Mary held counsel a few moments, and told Robert 
 that there were men in that town whom he must not see. 
 
 " Robert" continued Filette, " we think you had better go back 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 493 
 
 into your bed under the alders till dark. It is near sunset now — 
 it will not be long. Then my husband will come down here and 
 take you to our house. Nobody shall find you ; a doctor will be 
 there, to-night. He will bind up your poor arm." 
 
 " You shall have a good warm supper and a good bed " said 
 Alfy, while tears chased each other down his cheek. " Mother, 
 I whl stay here too, till Uncle George comes. Shall I ? " 
 
 " Yes, my son, if Robert desires it ; that is all you can do for 
 him. Szaying here to watch with our friend, will be giving your 
 'two mites,' Alfy ; it may be counted more than w^e all shall do." 
 
 " Dats right, Alfy," praised Binah. " Den when your Uncle 
 George comes. Bob will know he be frien'. An' you, Bob, you 
 cober up in dem leabes ; de gentlemen come soon now ; Binah 
 meet you at de house." 
 
 Roland's shrill call from the grove, demanded immediate obe- 
 dience. 
 
 '' Come up the hill ! come quick ! Chestnuts ! chestnuts ! chest- 
 nuts! Bushels! bushels! Come! come! come! Big ones! big 
 
 ones! Come!" 
 
 Filette and Mary, during the ascent, agreed to keep the dis- 
 covery a secret, and to lead their party home higher up the glen, 
 for Robert's greater safety; for Roland's tongue and memory were 
 often uncontrollable. 
 
 Upon the return, Lucy and Hester strayed on together. They 
 spoke of the time of Lucy's marriage, of the changes since. They 
 spoke of Roland, and many things pertaining to the past. 
 
 "One tiling I have strongly desired to learn, Hester," said 
 Lucy. " I suppose it is you, only, who will give me the informa- 
 tion." 
 
 " I will tell you anything you ask me, Miss Lucy ; I'm not afraid 
 
 to tell you anything, now." 
 
 " If what I ask wounds you, say so, Hester ; but I desire much 
 to know the name of Roland's father." 
 
 Hester held her shawl to her mouth, bent her head as she 
 walued, and uttered a little groan of surprise. 
 
 "Oh! Miss Lucy, you wont believe me ; — I was only fifteen 
 
 years old." 
 
 " Of course, I will. I never had cause to disbelieve you." 
 
494 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " I'll tell you near enongh for you to guess," said Hester, hold- 
 ing her shawl to her lips. 
 '*That will answer, llester." 
 
 " Then, my Roland is half-brother to Mary Steele." 
 For a moment Lucy's thoughts whirled ; but she traced the clew 
 and cried, — 
 
 *' Is it possible? Is Deacon Steele Rolands's father? " 
 They proceeded homeward in silence, till Lucy broke into a soft 
 laugh. 
 
 " Do you know, Hester, that I am Roland's aunt ? " 
 " No, Miss Lucy, no. You are no relation to my boy." 
 "I insist that I am. You see. Deacon Steele's family has cast 
 me off, because, conscientiously, I take up the cause of the poor 
 and oppressed. Now I will manifest good for evil ; I will show to 
 the world my attachment to the Steele blood. The thought has 
 just occurred to me. There is not a male descendant of the 
 Steele brothers, living ; my own darling boy sleeps in the soil of 
 Carolina. Hester, he was all my comfort in that far-off State. 
 But Willie is dead ! It was a cruel grief." 
 
 " Time, but the impression, stronger marks, 
 As streams their channels, deeper wear." 
 
 In a sorrowing monotone, she soliloquized, — 
 
 " I walk my parlor floor, 
 
 And through the open door, 
 I hear a foot-fall on the chamber floor ; 
 
 I'm stepping towards the hall 
 
 To give the boy a call ; 
 And then bethink me, that, — he is not there ! " 
 
 "Oh, Miss Lucy! you are crying. Do not go on, so. 'Twill 
 break your heart." 
 
 " Hester, that South robbed me of my dearest hopes. The one 
 lovely blossom of my life folded its beauty there ; and sometimes, 
 these gusts of feeling will rush over me, and this plash of tears 
 will fall; I have wandered from the point of conversation. I was 
 saying, there is no male heir to the Steele name. I want some 
 purpose added to my life. Will you give me your Roland ? Do 
 not decide abruptly ; let me explain. He shall take the place of 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 495 
 
 my lost child ; I have means. He shall be educated ; I will dress 
 him as Willie would have dressed ; he shall be respected ; I will 
 call him * my nephew,' Roland Steele, and he shall call me 
 * Auntie.' By doing this, I shall give an even-handed blow to the 
 mockery of pretended prejudice, and the hypocritical cant against 
 color. I have several debts of ihat kind to cancel. This acknowl- 
 edgement of your son, Roland, will be a step in that direction. 
 
 "Hester, when I think of the wrongs cf colored women, my 
 heart sinks. North and South, more especially the latter, they are 
 forbidden marriage, by statute. These unholy and God defying 
 statutes are framed by the very men who continually seek and 
 demand of colored women the intimacy of the marriage relation. 
 The virtue of these helpless women is wrested from them and 
 thrown to the winds ; and although they may live with these men 
 for years, they can have no claim upon their property or protec- 
 tion ; their children, termed unlawful upon the statute book, are 
 sold in the South, as merchandise upon the auction-table. In the 
 North, their children are sold by their fathers to poverty, igno- 
 rance, crime and shame. Hester, give me Roland. Let him bear 
 the name of ' Steele,' the name of his heartless, praying father. 
 Let me acknowledge him before the world, as my ' nephcvV,' and 
 raise him up to honorable manhood. Do not decide rashly ; you 
 shall have time. Consult Filette and her husband ; consult 
 Roland's own good, first. These will aid your conclusions." 
 
 Night settled down upon Cloudspiie, folding hill and dell in a 
 mantle of darkness. Before the arrival of Mr. Buddington and 
 Issy, Filette arranged an unoccupied sleeping room in a retired 
 part of the house. With Mary's help she fastened thick blankets 
 before the windows and brought in an easy cbair. Binah. in the 
 meantime, built a bright fire on the hearth, and heaped up a supply 
 of wood for the night. A suit of Mr. Buddington's clothes were 
 laid upon the bed ; the door was locked and the key dropped into 
 Filette's pocket. 
 
 After tea, Filette drew her husband, Lucy and Hester to her 
 room, informing them of Bob's hiding-place, and what she had 
 learned concerning him. Hester insisted upon sending Roland to 
 bed, that there should be no danger from his unguarded observa- 
 tion. Lucy rejoiced that her father was coming to carry herself and 
 
496 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Binah home, for thus he would be able to attend to the refugee's 
 arm. 
 
 " Take Issy's cloak down to the glen, thou good Samaritan, and 
 wrap Robert in it," said Filette to her husband ; " then, any pry- 
 ing eyes that by chance may stray about us, will be beguiled into 
 the thought that your companion is Paisley, himself." 
 
 '• An angel wife for a good Samaritan, art thou, Filette ! I shall 
 enter the front door. Do not light the hall. Strange, what beauty 
 this gentle spirit of humanity lends to thee ! Is it lawful to kiss 
 a Sister of Mercy .? " he asked, when she felt herself drawn to him, 
 and the pressure of his lips were left on her cheeks and brow. 
 ^' Au revoiry dear one, till I return with your wounded charge." 
 
 In half an hour, the anxiety of the group in the parlor was re- 
 lieved by hearing footsteps on the darkened staircase ; the key 
 to the front door was turned. Binah crept into the hall and stum- 
 bled up the dark stairs with a smoking supper. 
 
 An early ring at the bell, started a shiver of trepidation among 
 the ladies in the well-lighted parlor. 
 
 '- 1 will go to the door," said Lucy. " I can keep my self- 
 possession, whoever it may be." 
 
 Upon turning the lock, a voice assailed her. 
 
 '' What the mischief do you mean, locking out the doctor .? Do 
 you ever expect to live and thrive without him, and his nos- 
 trums ? " 
 
 "Oh, father ! what made you come so early?" she asked, after 
 much hilarity in the parlor. 
 
 " Why, because I felt all day like visiting well people. I want 
 to chat to-night on subjects outside my saddle-bags." 
 
 " So you have left them at home, father ?" 
 
 " Of course I have. Can't you let your father be a man, 
 amongst men, once a year ? " 
 
 " Surely some good angel drew you here at seven o'clock." 
 
 " Then some good angel inveigled me into leaving my saddle- 
 bags. Now leave me to pay my compliments to the ladies, without 
 an accompanying prescription." 
 
 After the usual salutations, Filette, laying her hand upon the 
 doctor's shoulder, invited him to follow her. 
 
 " Taken prisoner," he answered gayly. " What will become of 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 497 
 
 my castle in the air, which I have builded all day, about a social 
 evening, if I follow you ? " As his shaking sides passed through 
 the door, he continued, "Ton my word, I think I should have 
 brought my lancet for self-defense, in this dark hall." 
 
 " Silence ! doctor ! Come up stairs." 
 
 He obeyed the mysterious command, finding himself in the se- 
 cluded apartment by Robert's arm-chair. 
 
 From Robert, Binah and Alfy, he learned that his patient was 
 overtaken by his master and shot at, but finally escaped ; that his 
 master had traced hint to East Elms. The inference was, that 
 hired spies were on the hunt at that moment. For greater security, 
 it was advised that nothing be spoken concerning Robert on the 
 first floor of the house ; that Roland be kept out of the secret. 
 
 The doctor's examination of Robert's arm showed it to be a shot 
 wound of a severe nature. 
 
 " A compound fracture, and gangrene in the ragged flesh," 
 explained Doctor Clarendon, thoughtfully holding the hand swollen 
 to twice the size of the other. " Requires immediate attention. 
 Cursed be the fiend that pulled a trigger on this helpless, friend- 
 less being ! George, who will go for my surgical case and medi- 
 cines ? My horse is pretty tired to-night. Cannoc Paisley take 
 your bay and the buggy .? " 
 
 '•Yes, let him bring back Mrs. Clarendon as if she were sent for 
 to pass the evening. That will make the thing all right. What do 
 you say, Buddington .'*" 
 
 "All right, doctor. Whatever is wanting for this poor, suffering, 
 wounded fugitive, shall be forthcoming. Paisley shall soon be on 
 the way, sir. Do your best, doctor, and make out your bill at as 
 high a figure as you please, and draw upon me." 
 
 ''^ Mon Dku ! George, you are a selfish fellow! Can't you allow 
 me to take any stock in the 'Golden Rule?* I will not consent 
 that you shall reap all the blessedness in Cloudspire. Now, mind, 
 you shall not pay me for attending this wound, neither shall any- 
 body else. I have been thinking lately of laying up a little treas- 
 ure in Heaven, myself. Now Paisley, slip down stairs, out to the 
 barn, rig up the bay and be off. I invite my wife to return for an 
 evening visit. Mind, that is the ostensible cause of your night ride, 
 
49^ WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 if any one questions. Make a nimble trip, and don't forget the 
 
 cases." 
 
 When the sharp, swift beat of hoofs on the hard road died away, 
 the doctor addressed his host. 
 
 " Buddington, it is best for us both to go down to the parlors, 
 and to keep this evening's party pretty lively, as if nothing else 
 demanded our attention. Some of Lucy's good angels have im- 
 bued me with a spirit of watchfulness ; you know the house is sus- 
 picioned. Binah and Alfy will take good care of Robert ; miad, 
 you two keep your voices low. Here, George, let Binah go down 
 and wait in the dark hall for a roll of old linen for bandages." 
 
 " I ain't sleep tree night, wid dis arm," meekly interposed 
 Robert. 
 
 " Well, well ; you shall sleep to-night, in a good bed too," 
 answered the doctor. 
 
 Ishmael's bay was dashing round a turn in the road, when he 
 was accosted from a wagon halting in the fork, the driver appear- 
 ing in suspense. 
 
 " Halloo ! stranger ! " 
 
 "Halloo!" replied Ishmael, drawing the reins and thinking to 
 himself, "how merciful is darkness." 
 
 " Do you know anything about a runaway nigger in these parts .^ " 
 
 ""No, sir-ee," answered Issy gruffly. "They never come near 
 me. There's a few of the black cusses in town, but they're, too 
 lazy to run away. They'd better try it, though, a great sight, for 
 they are not wanted here." 
 
 Two horse laughs from the stranger's halting w^agon, rolled forth 
 on the night. 
 
 "I swear you're the rightdsort; and we found another like you, 
 down to the cavern in that village, back apiece. He's, a deacon. 
 What's his name? He likes a drop of the craythur." 
 
 "Deacon Steele," answered Issy. " He's an especial friend of 
 mine. He's true blue. A staunch supporter of the South and the 
 Constitution. He's a pillar in the church where I belong." 
 
 " He's a damn'd good fellow ! " roared from the wagon. " He 
 treated us and himself to the best liquors the old tavern afforded. 
 He said he believed he'd seen the damn'd nigger this very morn- 
 ing, picking potatoes out of his swill barrel. The deacon said the 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 499 
 
 CUSS looked at him a minnit. like a scared dog, and then run like 
 a hound. It was so dark he couldn't tell which way he went. ^ He 
 thought he was a thief, and was glad to get red of him so easy." 
 
 " ff the deacon hader known he was a runaway, he would have 
 set his bull dog on him, and caught him for you. Ha! ha! ha!" 
 
 langhed Issv. 
 
 "Said he' would; I s'pose he'd help us hunt now, if he wasn't 
 half seas over. But the old soaker wouldn't know east from west 
 
 by this time." 
 
 " Where did that nigger run from?'' asked Ishmael, boldly. 
 
 "From Virginny, that infernal border State. His master fol- 
 lowed. Got track of him, a little this side of New York. See him 
 as plain as daylight and sent a charge of buck-shot after him, for 
 he said he'd hev' him, dead or alive ; but the devil scooted. His 
 master hadn't any dog, you see." 
 
 " Where's his master now ? " asked Ishmael. 
 
 " He came up to East Elms — he's a waitin' there. We are 
 willin' to help a m.an find his property. Nobody likes to lose 
 what's their own. This nigger's worth twelve hundred dollars, you 
 
 
 see. 
 
 " He ought to be found ; but, as for me, they are an abomination, 
 unless I could harness them up like horses, and make them plough 
 my fields ; but they're neither man nor beast, and I should hate 
 devilishly to be plagued with 'em," roared Issy, with as much brass 
 in his voice as he could muster. 
 
 " That's so ! Where does this road lead to ?" 
 
 " Near abouts to no where," said Ishmael. " No nigger nor white 
 man would follow it, in the daytime." 
 
 " Which is the best road, friend ? " * 
 
 " You have to turn about, go back a short piece, and take the 
 right hand that leads into the great stage road to Canada. You'd 
 be likely to find him traveling that, dark nights. I've heard say 
 they take a bee line for Canada." 
 
 '' I swear, friend, you're right ; we'll go." 
 
 The srind of turning wheels and the crack of the whip showed 
 the spies to be in earnest. 
 
 " You have my best wishes, gentlemen, good-night ! " 
 
 Issy had sent the hunters in one direction and the impatient bay 
 
500 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 bounded on in another. Every stride of the horses increased the 
 distance between them. 
 
 " Ah ! what have I done," thought Issy. " Am I guilty of 
 a crime ? " 
 
 His beating heart replied, — 
 
 " You have saved Robert ! " 
 
 " Be it so," thought Ishmael, '• God is my judge, not men." 
 
 " Issy, why drive so fast this dark night ? " inquired Mrs. Clar- 
 endon, "I confess I am afraid of Squire Buddington's horses." 
 
 '•'Madam, the bay is safe — we both know the road; the ladies 
 are in haste to see you ; do not be alarmed." 
 
 Ishmael related to Air. Buddington his encounter with the scouts, 
 and a double watch was set upon the family proceedings. The 
 doctor's wife w^as missed from the parlors only long enough to look 
 at Robert, and leave him a few encouraging words. 
 
 Tea and refreshments were served at ten o'clock, in the dining- 
 room, where all might be seen through the uncurtained windows. 
 
 Binah was left with Filette, to remain up stairs, as nurse for 
 Robert, till the excitement over the fugitive might cease. The 
 doctor said, '* I wdll explain to the curious, that I've dosed her 
 into bed, for inflammatory rheumatism; and there is not Christianity 
 enough in the town, outside of our circle, to impel one foot towards 
 her room ; so we are safe enough to let her stay." 
 
 When the lights were extinguished for the night, Mr. Buddington 
 and his wife stole up to Robert's room. 
 
 Binah sat by the suffering man, dropping a soothing wash upon 
 the splintered arm. 
 
 " How did the doctor find the wound ? " asked Filette. 
 
 "Dreflul, missis! Doctor say it may hab to compitate, 'bove de 
 elbow ; but he try to save it." 
 
 " We hope he can save it. What medicine did he leave, 
 Binah?" 
 
 " Dem powder, dere, to make Bob sleep ; he dream, missis ! 
 dream dey hunt for him ; he say, — 
 
 " Dere de come ! dere de come ! " Den he whisper, '' O Jesus ! 
 where I hide.'' where I hide?" 
 
 " They are pursuing him, Binah ; they may come here ; do not 
 let Robert know; keep the door locked on the inside. We shall 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 50I 
 
 want you to stay in the room, days, and we will stay with him 
 
 nights." • 1 J c 
 
 " Yes, Binah, we must all be dumb at our work in the day. bo 
 you must sleep at night," said Mr. Buddington. " I will stay with 
 our poor Robert to-night. You go, now, with Filette, and sleep 
 the rest of the night. One thing more. Be sure, Binah, that 
 Roland does not set his eyes on you. Little Roland can't equivo- 
 cate ; he will tell all he knows." 
 
 Turning to his wife, he said with a bitter determination, — 
 "When we rescue a human being, black or white, from a blood- 
 thirsty Southerner, we must brandish the self-same weapons we 
 find in their hands. When the slaveholder or his minions come to 
 my door and ask ' Where is my slave ? ' we must answer boldly, 
 ' Your slave is not here ; ' for no man can hold his fellow-man a 
 slave. If he asks, ' Is there a runaway nigger here ? ' we must use 
 a decisive, 'iVb.^' for, in our creed, there are no niggers. Now, 
 good night, both of- you. I will nurse Robert tenderly, remember- 
 ing all night a lonely grave in Inditviay 
 
 "After an early breakfast, the next morning, Mr. Buddington 
 stept hastily into the kitchen, from the barn, and said, — 
 
 " Hester, this \^ your time to be on your guard. That tall, black- 
 gloved Lappin, that was on the last committee to our house, has 
 come out in all this cold, pouring rain, to buy hay of me. I di- 
 rected Issy to show him the hay, and sure enough he's tramping 
 all over the mows, and pulling it up in every corner, pretending to 
 look at the quality; but I know he's looking for the fugitive, 
 Robert; so be careful ! I will speak to Filette." 
 
 He had scarcely closed the door, when Roland bounded into the 
 
 kitchen. 
 
 " Mother ! has there been a ragged, runaway nigger, here ? 
 
 " Why, child, don't you see all the people that come here 1 Have 
 you seen any ragged bodv ? " 
 
 " No, mother ;^but that man says I must tell him if there's a run- 
 away slave here ; and, mother, he says if I tell him, he'll give me 
 two dollars." 
 
 He asked Issy, and Issy said, — . . 
 
 " Mrs. Buddington never had any tramps in her house, bringing 
 
 in filth and diseases." 
 
502 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Issy laughed when he said, '' Mrs. Buddington is a very nice lady, 
 
 sir." 
 
 " What makes you so wet, child ? Where have you been ? " 
 
 ''jMr. Lappin kept me out there by the gate, in the rain; he 
 wants you to go out there. He is going to tell you how you can 
 make some money." 
 
 " Good gracious, child ! I can't go out there in this shower. Tell 
 him I am alone in the kitchen ; he can come in by the fire and 
 dry himself." 
 
 Out skipped Roland with a whoop, singing out, — 
 
 " Red candy," "White candy," " Yellow candy." "Peppermints- 
 mints," " Sugar-horse," " Sugar-rooster ! " 
 
 " I guess you are thinking about the money your mother can 
 make, aren't you ? " coaxingly lisped Mr. Lappin. 
 
 " Yes, sir-r-r-r ! I be," hopping up to his imaginary benefactor 
 on one foot; '*' mother wants you to come into the kitchen — she's 
 all alone." 
 
 Mr. Lappin moved towards the house and in at the door, like a 
 gaunt shadow of evil ; before sitting, he rolled a pair of searching 
 eyes towards every door of the apartment, saying with a simpering 
 chuckle, — 
 
 " We are all alone, Hester ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, I am always alone at this time in the morning. The 
 rest are busy about their own affairs." 
 
 " Well, I've got a little business on hand, and I thought you 
 might help me and yourself, too. You have heard about that run- 
 away slave from Virginny, of course." 
 
 "How should I hear? I never go out to hear anything. The 
 neighbors have all cut our acquaintance ; they won't even let us go 
 to church ; how should I hear?" 
 
 " Of course, you will deny all about it ; but when I tell you the 
 whole, you may change vour tune." 
 
 " You see, Hester, I've just moved over next to Deacon Steele's, 
 and I think he's a man that loves his neighbor as himself ; just 
 about sunrise he come over to my house, and told me to look out 
 for a thieving nisrsrer that he found, earlv that mornino^, eatins; out 
 of his swall barrel. You see, there was a hard frost, the night 
 afore, and I thought I'd track him and see if he was hanging round 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 503 
 
 our place. I went down to the deacon's, and I tracked him to the 
 rail fence out east ; I knew he got over there> for some of his 
 rags was picked off there, on the sharp spUnters on the top rail. 
 I went on down into the muddy bottom, and, sure enough, there 
 was great barefooted tracks in the mud that side, and on the other 
 too, where he jnmped over. He was a runnin', I knew by the 
 long steps and the deep tracks in the soft mud, and I knew it was 
 him — for nobody here goes barefooted this weather. I didn't 
 think anything about it, only I was glad he'd cleared out from our 
 part of the town. 
 
 "Last night," he went on, " after we'd all gone to bed, two fel- 
 lows waked us up and asked if we'd seen anything of a runaway 
 nigger, and if we wanted a reward of a hundred dollars, we'd better 
 look him up. 
 
 " I didn't say anything about the tracks, for fear somebody else 
 would find him. I know he run in this direction, and I know Bud- 
 dington's a crazy abolitionist ; so I started early in the rain to find 
 out ; now, you're poor and never had any money, I'll give you 
 twenty-five dollars out of the hundred, if you'll tell me if he's 
 here." 
 
 "Mr. Lappin, I see every person that comes into that kitchen 
 door. I'm up first in the morning, ai^d I lock the doors at night, 
 and I've never seen such a person as you describe, here. Mrs. 
 Buddington is particular, — she don't have old shacks about here, I 
 can tell you. He may have got into the hay in the barn, but 
 Roland's out there every day for hen's nests — he would have 
 hauled him out in quick metre." 
 
 "Oh ! I've looked the hay all over myself," he replied, in a low 
 tone of disappointment. 
 
 Mr. Buddington entered the kitchen, saying cordially, — 
 
 " I am very glad, Mr. Lappin, you have come to-day. Better 
 stay until the rain holds up." 
 
 " No, Mr. Buddington, he did not come in to dry himself," inter- 
 posed Hester. "I'll tell you when I'done laughing," holding her 
 sides and bending over the sink. " Oh ! my ! it's too good ! '' 
 
 After catching her breath and drying her eyes, she continued, — 
 
 "Mr. Lappin's hunting a nigger — somebody's slave — I never 
 saw a slave in my life ; he'll get a hundred dollars for him — when 
 
504. WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 he finds Jiim. Ha ! ha ! ha ! keep an eye on 7nc and Roland, sir — 
 please, — he'll be lugging us off ! " 
 
 "If you want twenty live dollars, sir, Mr. Lappin will give it to 
 you, to tell where his game is." 
 
 There was no time for an answer from Mr. Buddington, for his 
 visitor rose, white with rage, and denounced Hester. 
 
 "What that girl says, friend Buddington, is a falsehood, blacker 
 than her color. 
 
 " She has fabricated every word. I came over to buy hay, as 
 the weather was lowering, and I could not work out. I am a mem- 
 ber of the church of Christ, and I strive to live according to its 
 precepts. Mr. Buddington, I am a man of truth. That girl is a 
 specimen of her corrupt race. The blacks are incapable of moral 
 sentiments or religious convictions. She has brought up her boy 
 to confirm all her falsehoods. Reports throughout the town con- 
 firm my words. Mr. Buddington, I came here to purchase hay, sir. 
 I have examined it. I find the quality good, but I find the price 
 higher than I expected. I cannot engage to take it." 
 
 " As you please, Mr. Lappin," mildly answered George, with 
 queer evidences of good humor lurking in the corners of his eyes. 
 
 " May I ask if I am exonerated, in your mind, from the infamous 
 charges of your servant .? " 
 
 '• It makes very little difference, as to my opinion ; your own 
 conscience will be the best approval. I have business to-day, Mr. 
 Lappin, and will bid you 'good-morning.'" 
 
 Hester's pitiless laugh fiew after him at the open door ; the 
 javelin of her voice passed through it to his wagon. 
 
 "Good-morning, Mr. Lappin. Call again! do, and bring your 
 conscience with you, do ! " 
 
 Robert, carefully guarded from alarm, knew nothing of the keen 
 pursuit after him in the secrecy of his room. The doctor adminis- 
 tered to him daily, seeking various pretences to avoid the suspicion 
 of those on the alert. 
 
 Sometimes he brought Lucy to spend the day, and came for her 
 the next morning. Sometimes he went under cover of night. 
 
 The flutter over the escaped fugitive and the " one hundred 
 dollars*' reward, merged into agitation respecting Binah's inflam- 
 matory rheumatism. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 505 
 
 Cloudspire had nothing remarkable in it but its religion. 
 
 That being frozen to adamant in its original mould, admitted no 
 variation or speculation ; therefore, affairs outside of that, of not 
 a feathers weight, became ponderous in the meditations of the 
 people. The opening of a neighbor's door or blind, which was 
 usually closed, offered an inexhaustible source of conjecture and 
 conversation. 
 
 Binah's inflammatory rheumatism set the town agog. The doc- 
 tor was plied with interminable questions ; and the general conclu- 
 sions were that " Them Southern slaves should never come into 
 the North, but should stay where they were." 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THANKSGIVING, the annual New England festival so dear 
 to her children, was in near prospect. 
 
 Two days before, the rich " Drovier " and Thad returned to 
 Cloudspire with as handsome a lot of cattle and horses as ever was 
 seen ; so the farmers said, who caught sight of them from their 
 fields and yards, as they passed. 
 
 Filette, Mary and Hester, worked days together in their cheerful 
 kitchen, to prepare for the revered holiday. Cupboard and larder 
 brimmed over with dainties, in waiting for the expected assem- 
 blage of rare and tried friends, whose voices were ever uplifted for 
 the oppressed, and who, like themselves, suffered the persecution 
 and isolation of the true Reformer. 
 
 Alfy rode "Uncle Ned" over to Mr. Link's fanii to welcome 
 Thad, after his wonderful travels, and to carry the command that 
 both must present themselves at Uncle George's the next day at an 
 early hour. 
 
 " Come out to the barn, and see our fine cattle and horses," 
 urged Thad. " There's bays, and blacks, and chestnuts, and grays; 
 and I'll show you something that'll make you want to be a drover 
 too, Alf." 
 
 He led his wondering brother through the yard of prancing 
 creatures, commenting with a business air, upon their points of 
 
5o6 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 beauty and value, and reassuring Alfy, who appeared uneasy with 
 fear amidst their wild play. 
 
 "Never mind, Alf, they know my voice and the proper place for 
 their heels. Hey ! there, you black Beltshazzar ! shall I crack 
 this whip? your shoes shine well in the sun, they're all right. 
 Take care, sir, you needn't show your shoes again. Come into 
 the stable, Alf." 
 
 He led out from his nice quarters, knee-deep in clean straw 
 bedding, a plump, round, dapple gray pony with snow-white mane 
 and tail. 
 
 " Oh, Thad ! how pretty ! " exclaimed Alfy, eagerly. 
 
 " I think so, too ; its the general opinion." 
 
 "What's his name, Thad?" 
 
 " His name is ' Silver,' Alfy. ' Silver ' is mine, my own. Mr. 
 Link bought him for me ; and I have a new saddle with my name 
 upon it. Little nicer than old Ned, hey, Alf?" 
 
 " Silver may be nicer now, but he must grow old sometime ; I 
 love old Ned. He's fat as a seal. I comb and brush him every 
 day. Come out and see him." 
 
 They walked on together, chatting about Thad's trip to the 
 West. 
 
 " Is that ' Ned ? ' " asked Thad, with surprise ; " he has grown 
 handsome, under your care and Uncle George's. Ned shnes like 
 silk, A new blanket ! He has fallen into a good home." 
 
 " Everybody falls into a good home that goes to Uncle 
 George's. Oh, Thad, I have somethtng nice to tell you to-mor- 
 row." 
 
 " I shall listen to every word, Alf. Then, I hav^e something 
 ugly to tell you and the folks. What's going to be there to- 
 morrow ? " 
 
 ** Lots of friends. The doctor and his wife, and Lucy, Richard 
 Beame, Fanny and her beau, Mr. Sterlingworth, Mrs. Beame, 
 Susan Hughes, and the children. There will be — I forgot — 
 JNIr. and Mrs. Glenly, from West Elms, their two daughters, and 
 one son ; that makes eighteen with you and Mr. Link ; then there's 
 seven of us." 
 
 " That makes twenty-five. That'll do for a lively time." 
 
 " Well, Thad, there's one more to make twenty-six, but I shan't 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 507 
 
 telh who, till you see him. Ride over with me, Thad, on * Silver,' 
 and see mother." 
 
 " Can't go, now, Alfy. Mr. Link is away for a few hours, and 
 left the yard to me ; but, tell mother we'll be there early to-morrow. 
 Mind, Alfy, don't mention my pony, ' Silver.' I want to give 
 them a surprise." 
 
 Thanksgiving day arrived, cold and clear ; every kind of vehicle 
 rumbled over the frozen ground, carrying every variety of human 
 freight, from toddling children and third cousins, to the gray-haired 
 grand-parents. 
 
 The two parlors of Mr. Buddington's house were well warmed 
 and cheerful from the flood of gladsome sunlight which poured 
 into the long south windows, and lighted up the crimson and purple 
 confusion of easy-chairs, tetc-a-ietes and lounges, with flaming' touches. 
 
 At ten o'clock, Filette and Mary took seats in the pleasant 
 rooms with the family. 
 
 " There," said one to the other, " the work is all out of the way \ 
 we have nothing to do, but enjoy the occasion." 
 
 "Yes, Filette, we shall have a long festival ; amidst the crowd- 
 ing cares and anxieties* which life brings, we should make the 
 most of these rare intervals of happy rest." 
 
 She turned a mother's glance down the brown road between 
 leafless branches, and exclaimed, — 
 
 "Somebody is coming; let's see! a man in a wagon and some 
 one riding a white horse follows." 
 
 " Why, that's Mr. Link," said Filette ; " the other is Thad, on a 
 silver-gray pony, with a new saddle and a silver-mounted bridle ; 
 do look, Filette, at the gay tassels flying below the pony's ears. 
 What does it all mean .'' Thad looks brown and plump ; he rides 
 like a major." 
 
 " Dear Mary, I can guess what it all means. Mr. Link is rich 
 and he has nobody to love ; he has taken an attachment for Thad, 
 and likes to see him happy." 
 
 A moment more, and Thad, throwing the rein to Alfy, rushed 
 into the parlor. 
 
 " Here's your drover-boy, mother ! Give rae ' How de'e.' " 
 
 Mary held him proudly to her heart, and murmured abstract- 
 edly,— 
 
5o8 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "So my boy has come back alive ! " while a few tears, the exha- 
 lations of her never-forgotten sorrow, fell upon his head. 
 
 "Why shouldn't I come back alive, mother.? " asked Thad with 
 surprise. 
 
 " Sure enough," answered Filette for Mary. " Of course you 
 would come back alive and handsome, too ; you would fly back on 
 the celestial wings of youthful hope, if by no other means, Thad. 
 
 " Oh ! by the way, how is it that you ride that beauty of all Mr. 
 Link's drove .? " 
 
 " Because I ride my own horse, Aunt Filette. ' Silver ' is my own ; 
 my name is on the saddle and bridle." 
 
 "So, so ! you have made a fine start in the world," she replied, 
 gayly. 
 
 " Come out and see him, both of you ; come " 
 
 " Mrs. Buddington, how pleasant your rooms are. Life seems 
 to be worth something, here," said Mr. Link, taking the arm-chair 
 offered him. 
 
 "They lack the very aroma of happiness which will pervade 
 these parlors when all our guests arrive ; for, to me, nothing is so 
 dear on earth, as the interchange of the i^itq and lofty thoughts of 
 kindred spirits ; to-day, we are all to be kindred spirits. Such 
 converse is sweeter to me than sunshine or flowers." 
 
 " How many times have you all been to church since I went 
 away ? " broke in Thad. 
 
 "Roland and his mother and I have been once," laughingly an- 
 swered Ishmael. 
 
 "Why did you not go oftener? why didn't you go and sit on the 
 bare ground "^ " asked Thad, with a comical and knowing expression. 
 
 "What diO you know about it.? " queried Uncle George. 
 
 " I know all about it — I was there." 
 
 "Where?" asked Alfy. 
 
 " I was there, in the meeting-house when the deed v»^as done." 
 
 " Let us hear about it," chimed in the voices. 
 
 " Mr. Link and I started that day, for the West. When we 
 reached West Elms, he had business at the bank; but, taking out 
 his pocket-book, found he had left important papers at home. He 
 told me to jump on ' Thunderbolt's ' back and return after them. I 
 took my supper at home and got back as far as the meeting-house. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 5O9 
 
 about nine o'clock in the evening. It was very dark ; you know 
 there's a cross road that leads out to the horse-sheds. Well, I 
 suppose 'Thunderbolt' thought he was going to prayer-meeting, 
 and before I knew it, he was half way across that old road. All of 
 a sudden, he shied out. I looked to see what was there ; for, 
 when he shies, there's something to shy at ; there were two buggies 
 tied there, in the bushes, and one old wood-wagon. I didn't see 
 nor hear any person, so I said to myself, I'd see what's up. 
 
 " I turned back into the traveled road, and walked ' Thunder- 
 bolt ' on the turf, round into the dootor's yard, and tied him. The 
 doctor's house was dark. I didn't think they were at home ; then 
 I went over to the green and listened ; there seemed to be some 
 sort of sawing and cracking of boards inside. I slipped round to 
 the door and peeped in, for it was open. It was dark, there ; but, 
 as I stood stili, gleams of light streamed on the floor boards and 
 upon some heaps of red cloth lying in the aisle, and went out into 
 the darkness, again. Between these times, I crept in at the door 
 and around a side aisle, into one of the pews near the sawing and 
 working. There were four men talking in whispers and laughing 
 under their breath. They were in your pew. Uncle George, taking 
 out the seats and pulling up the floor." 
 
 " ' Mr. Lappin,' said one, ' we're making a good stable for them 
 niggers, with a ground floor. Willaim Steele said they are no bet- 
 ter'n beasts, and I believe it.'" 
 
 " ' Well, Sam, they've got no intellects, and can't understand the 
 mysteries of the ' Godhead,' said another. 
 
 " ' I hear they're bought and sold South with the cattle,' answered 
 other. 
 
 '"That's the way they ought to be,' said a coarse voice. 
 'Where's these things all a goin' ?' 
 
 " ' They're going to Deacon Steele's,' answered the other. ' He 
 sent me with the old wood wagon to carry 'em ovar there. He's 
 the principal church-business man in this town, ain't he ? ' 
 
 " ' He's going to put 'em in his garret, and when this abolition- 
 ism's played out, he's going to put the pew back again,' answered 
 Lappin. 
 
 " ' Going to carry planks, and all ? ' asked the coarse voice. 
 Them's the orders,' answered Sam. 
 
 (( ( 
 
510 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "'Here's the last damned plank of the nigger pew,' said the 
 coarse voice. 
 
 " ' Dont swear, Lem, in the church of the Lord,' begged a smooth 
 voice, and I knew in a minute Z//^/ ^;/6' was Deacon Assen's son, 
 " Thode," the one that's studying for the ministry down to Andover. 
 Mr. Link showed him to me one day.' 
 
 " ' Consistency, thou art a jewel,' " remarked Mr. Buddington. 
 Upon which commentary a chorus of derisive laughter rippled 
 forth. 
 
 "Who is that Lem, Mr. Link?" 
 
 "It's Lem Hamm. You know him; he wears a tarpaulin, and 
 rings in his ears. He's an old salt. Some folks say he used to go 
 on the slave ships to Africa, for cargoes of slaves. He's a hard 
 fellow." 
 
 " How did you get out, Thad ? " asked Alfy. 
 
 " That light they had was a dark lantern. They extinguished it 
 when they finished sawing. So I crept out softly, and stayed out- 
 side till 1 saw them carry away cushions, seats, floor arid ally 
 
 " The last thing I heard, was that rough * Lem ' swearing, — 
 
 " ' Damn the niggers ; I'd like to hang them all up to these trees, 
 around this church, and them Buddingtons with 'em. If they'll set 
 in church together, let 'em hang together.' " 
 
 "That young minister was saying, — 
 
 " ' Take care, Lem, you are all going to have a supper at Deacon 
 Steele's. Don't swear there.' 
 
 "Lem answered, — 
 
 " ' I'll swear, if he don't bring on the liquor and give us all some 
 drinks. This night-work is d — d hard.' 
 
 " * You'll get all you want, there,' said Mr. Lappin. ' The 
 deacon keeps all kinds.' 
 
 " Nev^er mind now, Thad, there's Mr. Glenly and his family, and 
 Fanny Beame, and Mrs. Beame, bringing Susan and her children." 
 
 After the affectionate greetings were over, Uncle George took 
 Richard, Mr. Sterlingworth and Mr. Link, up to the curtained 
 room where Robert was slowly convalescing. 
 
 The half curtains afforded a view of squares of the bright, blue 
 sky, the delicate tracery of leafless tree tips, and the scalloped 
 lines of distant hills. Alfy, Robert's faithful attendant, had fes- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 5^^ 
 
 tooned the room with evergreen ground pine, brought surrepti- 
 tioLiily from the woods ; a blazing fire crackled on the hearth, mvit- 
 ing the company to tarry. 
 
 The circumstances of his escape from bondage, and discovery 
 
 were recounted. 
 
 '• Robert will never use that arm and hand for labor, said tne 
 doctor, who followed them up. " Robert is maimed for life. He 
 is the victim of our laws ; by their behest, he is hainted like the 
 beasts, with dogs and guns." ^ 
 
 " This," continued Mr. Glenly, " is the protection afforded by a 
 government, instituted to secure 'certain inalienable rights, with 
 which men are endowed by their Creator, such as life, liberty, and 
 the pursuit of happiness.'" 
 
 " Yes, further," continued Mr. Sterlingworth, " this disabled man 
 is the fruit of a Constitution,. ordained to 'establish justice, insure 
 domestic tranquility, and promote the general welfare.' " 
 
 "The whole thing, laws, constitution and government, are a 
 biting satire upon American liberty." ^ 
 
 " The church may be added to the hypocritical list, ^ suggested 
 Richard Beame, '' for this hunting, shooting and maiming, is the 
 prero<^ative of the self-styled followers of Christ. The Northern 
 churches are but the whippers-in of the panting, footsore fugitive, 
 . who seeks in another country the ' life,^ liberty, and pursuit of 
 happiness,' promised all mankind in ours." 
 
 "As for that matter," pursued Mr. Buddington, « they are 
 whippers-in of all those who protect or defend, by word or deed, 
 him who flees from the thumb-screw, the overseer's lash, or the 
 auction-room. You and I have had sufficient experience in that, 
 
 Richard." . . ^ -k^ r^^ ^ 
 
 " How long shall you keep Robert here ? inquired Mr. Glenly. 
 "You know Benjamin Lundy said, 'Philanthropists are the 
 slowest creatures breathing. They think forty times before they 
 act.' I think it would be well in this case, to think many times 
 less. The reward is still out, and your house is suspected. Doc- 
 tor, how about this arm for traveling ? " 
 
 " Oh I as to that, Robert is beyond danger now. A few weeks 
 of rest, and the care which he'll know how to administer, is all that 
 is required." 
 
512 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " I think he should be on the road to Canada, as soon as pos- 
 sible," remarked Mr. Sterlingworth. " The weather is growing 
 cold, and one small incident may jeopardize his safety." 
 
 The silence of regret that followed showed how deeply Robert's 
 sorrows were interwoven with the sympathies of his rescuers. 
 Alfy's living eyes filled with tears, and would not leave tlie dark 
 face of his friend. 
 
 Mr. Buddington looked gravely abstracted, and the doctor spoke 
 with unusual feeling. 
 
 "I don't like to lose my patient. My profession never before 
 yielded the pleasure experienced in his attendance." 
 
 "Let me help you out," said Mr. Link. "I go to Canada a 
 good deal on business. I know the route and the stopping places 
 on it. I know people there with kind hearts. I know stables 
 where I can get Robert a comfortable place to earn a living, with 
 one hand, and a part of another. George, you have done enough. 
 Let me bear a part of the burden." 
 
 " When can you go ? " asked Mr. Glenly. 
 
 "Any time you say. Has he warm clothes, George? that's a 
 cold country, and it's a long ride." 
 
 "I should say to-night," said Mr. Sterlingworth. "The journey 
 must be made in the night. Robert, have you brought along your 
 wages for all these years of work in the sunny South ? Have you 
 any money ? " 
 
 "No, sir; I got nothin' ! " 
 
 "No money, and not even a name, I suppose." 
 
 " I is ' Bob,' sir." 
 
 Mr. Sterlingworth paced the floor and replied, — 
 
 "What can be more abject? Who could be more robbed and 
 bruised along life's wayside, than he ? A sharp heart- ache springs 
 up, when I see such robbery, and think of the two and a half or 
 three millions groaning in the same condition. Gentlemen, let us 
 act the Samaritan's part." 
 
 _ " Alfy," said Mr. Buddington, " carry round the hat ; " offering 
 his own. "The churchesd rop their offering to-day, to the God ot 
 the American Constitution ; let us make offerings to the God of 
 the friendless." 
 
 "Your remark, Mr. Buddington, reminds me of the words of 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 513 
 
 Wendell Phillips at the meeting in Fanueil Hall, last month, in 
 behalf of the slave, Latimer. You may have read it in the Libera- 
 tor, but it will bear repeating, and inscribing upon the register of 
 memory. In the midst of a shouting and hissing mob, he said,— 
 
 "' When I look upon these crowded thousands and see them trample 
 upon their consciences and the rights of their fellow-men, at the bidding 
 of a piece of parchment; I say, My curse be upon the Constitu- 
 tion OF THE United States.' " 
 
 Alfy went round with the hat and returued to Uncle George. 
 
 " Deliver it to Mr. Glenly," he said, " as treasurer.^^ Now go 
 down and ask the ladies to give a good Samaritan purse." 
 
 His swift feet soon returned to the chamber, holding up a purse 
 knitted of bright purple and crimson silk, sprinkled with stars of 
 gilt beads and hung with heavy tassels of the same. Two rings of 
 gold encircled it, and on one was engraved, "Lucy." 
 
 '•There, Robert, that is yours!" approaching him, nearly 
 choked with joy. '"That is yours, from Miss Lucy." 
 
 A happy look o'erspread Robert's face and frightened brown 
 
 eyes. 
 
 " No, Marse Alfy, too fine for I." ^ _ 
 
 While the two, alike in simple childish natures, were examining 
 the beautiful object, the gentlemen laid plans for further flight. 
 Mr. Link offered to go himself, that very night, for Canada. 
 
 " If anybody wishes to overtake ' Thunderbolt,' they will ride 
 faster than is common in these parts." 
 
 " Your horse may be tired, Mr. Link, take my bay, " offered Mr. 
 
 Buddington.. * 
 
 "Oh, no, we travel slow with a drove, and he s had two days 
 rest. ''Thunderbolt ' knows my voice and my hand on the rein. 
 His resolute shoulders will butt away darkness, distance, and 
 
 fear " 
 
 Is'sv offered his help in the care of Mr. Link's yards, and would 
 stay with Thad till Mr. Link returned. He also insisted upon 
 putting ten dollars in the Samaritan purse, saying,— 
 
 "My father in Charleston furnishes me more money than I 
 
 need " 
 
 So* the purse was filled, and the hour of Robert's departure set 
 
 at eleven o'clock that night. 
 
514 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "What are your means of self-defense, if waylaid, Mr. Link? 
 Robert will be no help, you see," queried Mr. Sterlingworth. 
 
 " My friends, I rely first, upon the Supreme Ruler of events ; 
 next, upon my horse, and if necessity requires, 1 have a trusty 
 brace of pistols ; a drover shouldn't be a bad shot." 
 
 " If they get sight of your charge, and you escape, those Virgin 
 ians will demand the Governor of jNIassachusetts to deliver you 
 up, as they demanded Governor Seward of New York to deliver 
 up the three men in the schooner ' Robert Carter ' case in which a 
 slave, ' Isaac,' escaped to New York from Norfolk. These Virgin- 
 ians demanded them as slaves-stealers, even after Isaac was 
 seized and taken to Virginia in defiance of the State laws. Woe 
 be to you, in the hands of these Southern desperadoes !" 
 
 Mr. Link replied, — 
 
 " I think I should be safe enough, if Governor Davis has the 
 back-bone of Governor Seward ; and if he had not, the Massa- 
 chusetts abolitionists would swarm, as they've done in the Latimer 
 case 
 
 " The Governor of Georgia, also demanded of the Governor of 
 Maine, the captain of the 'Boston,' homeward bound to that Slate, 
 ns a fugitive from justice, because a slave secreted himself on his 
 vessel, and afterwards escaped to Canada," said Mr. Glenly. 
 
 " And you, my friend Buddington, if those blue-bloods knew 
 your crime, it would not be safe for you to go to the barn, nights, 
 to take care of your stock, or to ride home belated, after dark. 
 There was my friend, Isaac Hopper, a Quaker, suspected of har- 
 boring a fugitive. He was knocked down on the street by an 
 unknown hand, and thus laid upon his bed for days. Then there's 
 Arthur Tappan of New York, a well-known abolitionist. A re- 
 ward of twenty thousand dollars has been offered for him, to be 
 delivered on the levee at New Orleans. The Charleston Patriot 
 adverted to it, with apparent approbation. 
 
 " Why, sir, those Southrons are blood-thirsty aasassins ! Like 
 savage beasts having the taste of blood in their own latitude, they 
 demand the delirious draught in every Northern metropolis, and on 
 every acre of the States." 
 
 Filette now entered the room, at the summons of her husband. 
 
 " Robert is going to leave us to-night," he said, " for Canada ; 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 515 
 
 he must be warmly clad. How shall the flannels be made up 
 for him ? Can you ladies constitute yourselves into a sewing 
 society and finish them by eight o'clock this evening? " 
 
 " I am sure they would be most happy ; we can easily accom- 
 plish that and more, which will be necessary." 
 
 She laid her hand on Robert's shoulder, and looking into his 
 dark face, said kindly, — 
 
 "I am sorry to part with you so soon. We could take care of you 
 much longer, could we not, doctor ? " 
 
 " With all our hearts, with all our hearts ; but our friends here, 
 advise departure." 
 
 "I 'fraid dey catch me here, missis." Robert's face beamed with 
 a grateful sense of Filette's kindness. "Mus' go to Canada. 
 'Spects de Queen Victory will be good to I, like you, missis. Dey 
 say she let we be free dere, missis." 
 
 '* Bless the queen's dear heart ; she will be good to all such as 
 you, Robert will be free there." 
 
 "True, Filette," responded her husband. "This country is ruled 
 by a bit of parchment, set up like a dumb idol ; we might as well 
 be ruled by the wooden Juggernaut of pagan India ; but you must 
 hasten. Robert has no warm surtout or cloak," he continued, to 
 the gentlemen. 
 
 Mr Link came to their aid, — 
 
 " I will furnish that. I bought a long cloak with a double cape, 
 especially for traveling on my trips. Allow me, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Buddington, to give it to our wayfarer." 
 
 Below, Susan insisted upon helping Hester about the dinner ; 
 while Susan's children and Roland made the house and grounds 
 ring again with boisterous glee ; ever and anon stealing into the 
 parlors, to whisper something wonderful and sweet in the ear of 
 Miss Fannie. 
 
 Binah would stay with Robert, and talk over slave times. 
 
 When the gentlemen were gathered into the busy parlors, 'twas 
 the general request that Mr. Sterlingworth should give them an 
 account of the trial of George Latimer, claimed a slave, in Boston. 
 Thad and Alfy were eager listeners to the story of his master's 
 (James B. Grey) endeavor to recapture him. 
 
 " Every step," said Friend Sterlmgworth, " was taken by the 
 
5l6 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 friends of justice to foil the slave catchers ; but the enslavers and 
 their Northern allies make the laws. A writ of Habeas Corpus was 
 sued out by Latimer's lawyers, Samuel E. Sewall and Amos jNIerrill. 
 The writ was set aside ; Chief Justice Shaw and the court, by 
 United States authority, gave the advantage to the man-hunter, 
 Grey, that he could claim his slave in any State whither he had 
 fled, and take him back to bondage \ time was also given the mas- 
 ter to prove his ownership. At every turn in Latimer's behalf. 
 Judge Shaw and Boston's City Attorney, flourished United States 
 Statutes in our faces, till the slave was cast into jail, in the custody 
 of Grey, till the trial." 
 
 "One triumph the Abolitionists gained, however." said Mr. 
 Glenly ; " they secured a trial by jury." 
 
 "They did so. Charles M. Ellis and Samuel E. Sewall handled 
 the case vigorously. Again, Judge Shaw called up the hideous 
 spectre of the ' Maryland Prigg case,' and Latimer was left in 
 Boston jail." 
 
 "I suppose the excitement rose to a great height. The indigna- 
 tion meeting at Faeuil Hall was thronged." 
 
 " About four thousand pro and con. The minions of the slave- 
 ocracy resolved to break up the meeting. Speakers were howled 
 and hissed down, and their voices drowned by the most infernal 
 tumult man is capable of making." 
 
 " Remond and Fred Douglass could not be heard for the din of 
 schreeches and hisses." 
 
 " Samuel E. Sewall presided .'' " asked Richard Beame. 
 
 " In the finest and most dignified manner, Richard. There were 
 letters from the 'old man eloquent,' Samuel Hoar, and others; 
 Wendell Phillips registered his curse on the Constitution. When 
 Edmimd Quincy seconded the resolutions of Joshua Leavitt, he 
 repeated an alphabet which the ruffianism of Boston must remem- 
 ber, and which will frame itself into resistless denunciation upon 
 their heads hereafter." 
 
 " Can you give us a few of his sentiments ? " asked Lucy. 
 
 " I can give you some of his words, which I took down in short- 
 hand." Mr. Sterlingworth took a paper from his pocket diary, and 
 read: "Of the fugitives from bondage, Mr. Quincy said, 'He 
 turns his face to tRe North Star, which he had been falsely told 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 517 
 
 hung over a land of liberty. He threads the forest, he hurries by 
 night across the green swamps, he lies concealed by day in the 
 tangled cane-brake, he dares the treacherous morass, he fords 
 trivers, he scales mountains; but he shuns the face of Christian 
 man, as his deadliest foe. At last, he reaches the Free States ; but 
 he rests not from his pilgrimage uiltil he has taken sanctuary in the 
 very birthplace of Liberty. He places his feet on our hearthstone, 
 and demands hospitality and protection. And with what reception 
 met this demand upon the humanity, the Christianity, the love of 
 liberty of Boston ? The signal for the chase is given ; the immor- 
 tal game is on foot ; a pack of bloodhounds, in human shape, is 
 put upon the scent ; they pursue, seize, and hold him down, with 
 the oppressor himself, for the master of the hunt, and the second 
 judicial magistrate in the nation, for whipper-in. Your police 
 officers and jailors under the compulsion of no law, are the volun- 
 tary partakers of this hideous chase ; and your streets and your 
 prisons form the hunting-ground, on which the quarry is run down 
 and secured.' 
 
 '' To the ruffianism of the North, that is the alphabet of an un- 
 known tongue. Its real interpretaton may be found for them, 
 hereafter." 
 
 " The Northern conscience feels nothing but the Southerner's 
 slave-chain which binds it," observed Mary. 
 
 " What became of Latimer .? " asked Alfy, whose sympathies led 
 him directly to the desired result. 
 
 " He was finally bought, my son, for four hundred dollars ; thus 
 Boston, recreant to justice and humanity, became a partner with 
 slaveholders. Bought what James B. Grey had to sell — a human 
 being ! She made her streets the auction ground of man, to the 
 highest bidder." 
 
 During the relation, Alfy drew his chair very close to Friend 
 Sterlingworth, often turning his troubled blue eyes intently upon 
 him. Thad, equally interested but ever conservative, changed his 
 seat to the other end of the Friend's sofa. He now inquired, — 
 
 " Are there no kind-hearted people in the South ? are they all 
 given over to deeds of cruelty ? " A latent tone of sarcasm colored 
 both questions. 
 
 A rapid smile ran round the party. 
 
5l8 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "Never mind, Thad," spoke Mr. Glenly's youngest daughter, 
 Ida, whose Southern proclivities we have before seen, " I often ask 
 that question myself. Thank you for the thread and scissors, 
 Fanny." 
 
 Fanny passed them with a grave, reproving smile. 
 
 Friend Sterlingworth replied in his usual calm manner. 
 
 " There are many men and women in the South, who might 
 heed the claims of justice and humanity, if they were free from the 
 yoke which slavery imposes upon the white masters, as well as 
 upon their slaves. The necessity in efforts to enslave human 
 beings, by natnral right the equals of ourselves, is a hardening 
 process. The horrible system is mainained at the expense of 
 every noble aud godlike instinct of the human soul." 
 
 "it is a natural law, that water cannot rise higher than its 
 source," interposed Lucy. "I think the same law applies to mind. 
 The heartless and brutal slave laws of the Southerner must spring 
 from a debased and brutal source. They cannot flow from natures 
 imbued with pure and exalted impulses." 
 
 "And yet," said Mr. Glenly, **' there are those who yield to the 
 dictates of conscience, and come out from the mass of corruption 
 about them ; such as J. D. Palfrey, who inherited slaves in Louisi- 
 ana, who gave them freedom and brought them to New England. 
 Then, there's James G. Birney, who came from Alabama to the 
 North, a martyr to his views on immediate emancipation. He 
 manumitted twenty-one slaves at a cost of about twenty thousand 
 dollars to himself." 
 
 "The direst proscription is promised, however, to every South- 
 erner who secedes from the slave-code," said Friend Sterlingworth 
 impressive]}'. " Thad, remember that Mr. Birney's name was ex- 
 punged from the roll of attorneys in the supreme court of Alabama. 
 He had also been a trustee in the University of Alabama and an 
 honorary member of several societies ; from all these, he was ex- 
 pelled by resolutions as a mark of displeasure and hatred of the 
 Souih." 
 
 " There is another beautiful instance of adhesion to principle, 
 and a willing obedience to the dictates of conscience. The exam- 
 ple of the Misses Grimke of Charleston, South Carolina," said 
 Mrs. Glenly. " Those two ladies bade farewell to rank, opulence 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 519 
 
 and a life of luxury, and accepted a life of exile from all they held 
 dear, casting in their lot with the despised and vilified friends of 
 ' Freedom in the North. Sarah and Angelina Grimke seem to me 
 to be two celestial beings, leading the way in which we should fol- 
 low; the hem of their garments I am not worthy to touch." 
 
 " Fanny, you remember well, Leonore Wallace who visited us at 
 East Elms," remarked Caro Glenly. 
 
 " We all loved her," responded Mrs. Glenly.^ "Her sentiments 
 were after our hearts ; but she lacked strength to follow her con- 
 victions. Filial affection was the stronger passion." 
 
 " Leonore Wallace was my beau-ideal of a frank, fearless, proud 
 and gentle girl," said Caro. 
 
 " Leonore Wallace ? " asked Lucy ; " where from ? I once knew 
 a lovely Leonore Wallace in Charleston, South Carolina." 
 
 " She must be the same. She spent one summer in East Elms, 
 with friends, and insisted upon making our acquaintance as aboli- 
 tionists. We found her a young person of high refinement, of ele- 
 gant but unaffected manners ; a most genial companion. She 
 even formed a strong attachment for our Fanny, here, despite 
 Fanny's puritanical simplicity." 
 
 Lucy dropped the flannel on which she was stitching, sank back 
 into her chair, ejaculating with moistened eyes, — 
 
 *' Is it possible that you have seen and know Leonore Wallace ? 
 She sits enthroned in my memory. To my Southern solitary life 
 and sorrow she dared to give me aid and comfort. Have you 
 heard from her since.'' " 
 
 "Not a syllable," answered Mrs. Glenly. "Her aristocratic 
 mother came on and withdrew her daughter from Northern con- 
 tamination. We shall probably know no more of Leonore. She 
 hath gone back to her idols." 
 
 Alfy laid his boyish hand in Friend Sterlingworth's large palm, 
 and solicited another story about the South. 
 
 Mary sconded her boy's request. 
 
 " If you can aid me, sir, in establishing in these young minds an 
 impartial love for men of all complexions, and a sacred regard for 
 their equal inalienable rights, I shall owe you many obligations." 
 
 " I can show them, from personal experience, the heinous char- 
 acter of the advocate of slavery, at least, Mrs. Buddington. I was 
 
520 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 a student of Andover a few years since. What transpired there, 
 and the drama in which I was an actor, can be no fiction. 1 was 
 then preparing for college. In common with several other young 
 men at Phillips Academy, my whole religious nature revolted from 
 the helpless condition of the American slave. Debarred from 
 active service, looking towards his liberation by the Constitution 
 and its insatiate progeny of National and State laws, as well as by 
 popular feeling, we tiad no other resource but prayer, — that should 
 m»ve the arm of the Almighty Ruler of events. We went into the 
 academy, in pne of the rooms used for such gatherings as monthly 
 concerts of prayer for other objects. We soon found that our 
 prayer-meeting for slaves was a flagrant offence to the officers of 
 the academy. At morning prayers, President Johnson waroed us 
 to desist from our course ; stated that much mischief would arise 
 from it; that it would destroy the harmonious action of the churches 
 and produce a schism between the North and South. He rebuked 
 us for cherishing a zeal without knowledge ; also for breaking 
 the rules of the academy in forming a society without permission. 
 
 " We held no more prayer-meetings there, but attended the 
 Methodist church concert of prayer for slaves. This was an addi- 
 tional crime for which there appeared to be no extenuation. 
 Another remonstrance followed ; two of the students, who were 
 considered ring-leaders, were expelled. The others could not look 
 upon this step with indifference ; so, about tifty-two of us took up 
 the burden of disgrace, with those expelled, and left the academy.'' 
 . " That was an exodus worth seeing," exclaimed Mr. Buddington. 
 
 " I suppose some of them were poor students depending on their 
 own exertions for the means of education. There was a noble ex- 
 ample of self-sacrifice for the future." 
 
 " True ; but the times demanded it then and 7iow.^^ 
 
 "Where did those fugitives from ecclesiastical t}Tanny find 
 
 refuge ?" 
 
 "Many of them were nearly prepared for college, and entered 
 soon after. Others scattered to various ecclesiastical institutions." 
 
 ''Where did you go, sir?" asked Thad, hot indignation lurking in 
 every syllable. His conservatism was at last routed. 
 
 " I .? I and three others went to * Noyes Academy,' in the town of 
 Canaan, New Hampshire." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 521 
 
 "What led you there?" questioned Doctor Clarendon. 
 
 " An academy had been built at Canaan, and was then admit- 
 ting colored students, which was considered an innovation. A 
 growing uneasiness was manifested on the part of the Democrats, 
 and it was thought that an accession of white students would soften 
 the rising hostility. The refugees from Andover were invited 
 there. As I mentioned, only four of us accepted the invitation. 
 To use a homely phrase, we seemed to have jumped 'from the fry- 
 ing-pan into the fire.' There was no academy. The mobocratic 
 democrats on the day previous, in a whirlwind of rage, drew it off its 
 foundations and stranded it in a swamp, a mile and a half away." 
 
 A great uproar of exclamation and laughter succeeded this part of 
 the relation. The ladies dropped their sewing ; scissors, wax, and 
 thread fell to the floor and rolled away in an unheard-of frolic. 
 
 The doctor came to his feet, flourished his red bandana, took 
 excited strides about the room, pulled Thad's ear, and cried, — 
 
 " Why, the deuce ! that academy in the swamp was an improve- 
 ment on the Buddington/^tt/, in Cloudspire." 
 
 Mr. Link's eyes twinkled at the glaring proof of his confirmed 
 belief. He said, — 
 
 " I am not surprised at that Canaan outrage ; it is consistent 
 with the fixed and general designs of the Democrats, wherever you 
 find them. That political class are the Northern bloodhounds that 
 do the Southern master's bidding. Go where you will in the States, 
 go into the forests of Maine, go into the quiet hills of New Hamp- 
 shire, into the valleys of Connecticut, into New York, Ohio or Illi- 
 nois, a Democrat is the same in principle. The Democrat of the 
 counting-room of the professor's study and of the most squalid 
 shanty of the foreigner, have each the same determination to crush 
 liberty and the God-given rights of man. Pull the latch of the re- 
 motest log cabin in the East or West, and you are confronted by a 
 stalwart, unkempt Democrat, in the midst of his dangerous brood. 
 And, although a newspaper never entered the rough door, or a 
 word of any book was ever read there, and the alphabet never 
 heard of, under its roof, the " curse of Canaan " is on his lips. 
 ' Southern rights ' are coarsely rehearsed, a loaded rifle for the 
 wretched fugitive stands behind the door, and a stout rope hangs 
 by his chimney jam for the neck of the abolionist." 
 
522 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "Mr. Link has the floor ! " cried the doctor. 
 
 " Three cheers for Mr. Link ! " cried Luc}^, clapping her hands 
 till the clapping became general. 
 
 Hester put her laughing face into the dining-room door, and 
 asked what was the matter. 
 
 " Oh, Hester ! Mr. Link's tongue is loosed. He has been de- 
 scribing Democracy. The silent man has spoken ; it is equal to 
 Shakespeare." 
 
 "Susan and I are losing all this," laughed Hester; "but we'll 
 get Mr. Link a good dinner, for we know he's on our side." 
 
 "You are not losing much," said Mrs. Glenly ; "you have been 
 scouged by Democrats from your birth ; you know them better 
 than we can tell you." 
 
 " Oh, true ! Hester, said Lucy. You know two Democrats, and 
 that's enough for o?ie to know ; you know Deacon Steele and his 
 brother William, don't you "*. the rest are after the same pattern ; 
 you shall spend the evening with us." 
 
 The closed door shut out Hester and her ringing laugh. 
 
 "Allow me to explain, Mrs. Buddington," said Mr. Link. *'You 
 see I've led a sort of a lonesome life, and never till now had 
 many to talk to, except my droves. I feel a freedom here to speak, 
 and I've just expressed what I have always known ; so, if agreeable 
 to the company, I should like to hear the story of the academy 
 finished." ■ 
 
 "Shall I proceed, ladies?" asked Mr. Sterlingworth. 
 
 "Certainly," was unanimous. The stray work and sewing uten- 
 sils were brought back to duty. 
 
 "How could they draw that academy building so far?" asked 
 Alfy. 
 
 "The neighboring towns furnished oxen ; you understand it was 
 a common cause. One hundred yoke of oxen were hitched on with 
 heavy chains ; the day was hot, and the work was tedious ; men 
 swore and drank ; chains broke, but the setting sun viewed from 
 their hands, 'the worthy action done.' 
 
 "The night previous, they mobbed the colored students in their 
 boarding-house ; these students numbered about twenty. One of 
 them from New York, was sick in bed ; a stone, weighing about 
 four pounds, came through the window over his bed, and tore 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 523 
 
 away the wall opposite. These students were armed ; they had 
 been furnished with guns, and they were loaded. In reply to the 
 stone, the sick man sat up in bed, and fired a shot through the 
 window; others opened the door and sent their bullets whizzing 
 into the night. This volley scattered the cowards. Blood was 
 found in the street the next morning." 
 
 "Of course the school was broken up? " asked Mrs. Clarendon. 
 
 " It was broken up soon after, madam. We remained and re- 
 cited our lessons to the principal at private houses. The act of 
 driving out colored students by mob law, makes a fine symphony 
 with the duels of South Carolina and other States which fine and 
 imprison for the crime of teaching a slave to read." 
 
 " A sweet savor of earth to rise up among the angels around the 
 Throne," said Mr. Glenly, ironically. 
 
 "Lucy," said her mother, "I must confess to entire conversion 
 to your' faith; you reasoned your father into anti-slavery belief, 
 more easily. Here I am, at the eleventh hour ; count me among 
 the opponents of slavery, hereafter. Heretofore, I have discredited 
 these outrages. I have no cause to discredit them now." 
 
 The dinner-bell sounded. Little Roland swung open the door, 
 with a low bow, — 
 
 "Gentlemen and ladies, the table awaits." 
 
 "Well done, Roland," said the host. "Is there a seat at table 
 for you ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 "For Addie and—" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "For Thad and Alfy?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " That's right ; we are all of one blood. What book is that in .? " 
 
 "The Bible, sir." 
 
 *• You three fiy-aways don't like turkey ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, we do ! but Addie says her mother never had a 
 turkey." '- 
 
 " Well, she will have turkey, to-day. 
 
 What a table of luxuries. Its delicious odors floated away 
 through parlor, hall and chambers. The happiest era in several 
 lives dated from that Thanksgiving supper. The memories of ifs 
 
524 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 shining silver; its crisp, brown turkey on the gilt china platter; 
 of the roasted pigs crouching down as if to crunch the lemons in 
 their mouths ; of the huge chicken pies ; of the loaves of cake 
 white as snow-banks ; of the yellow butter with " pictures on it," 
 as little Addie said ; of the floating island, and of the fragrant pile 
 of apples and oranges. 
 
 These memories haunted Susan's hovel, down by the river, all 
 the dreary winter. 
 
 When the frozen plain of the river rang with the skaters glee, 
 and Susie's children had no skates ; when the fierce winds blew 
 and the drifting snow buried their path to the village school, their 
 lonely hours were beguiled by imitations of the Thanksgiving 
 dinner. On broken bits of blue crockery, and fragments of glass 
 picked up in the village, a roasted potato grew to a turkey, their 
 plate of mush changed to floating island, and their brown crust 
 was denominated roast pig. A chance orange from Mrs. Beame, 
 cut in quarters was passed with the bright-eyed solicitation, — 
 
 "Willie, will you take an orange." 
 
 After dinner. Squire Buddington drove the gentlemen over to 
 Mr. Link's with his barouche and pair, for the inspection of the 
 handsome drove. Issy drove Mr. Link with the fast bay. The 
 return in the dusk of evening brought back the heavy cloak, fur 
 gloves, warm leggings, and more ' buffaloes ' than Mr. Link would 
 need for a ride home that night. 
 
 When the table was being cleared, Filette and Mary packed a 
 large cheese box with the substantials and dainties of the da}^ A 
 small trunk was taken into Filette's room, and filled with a man's 
 warm clothing. 
 
 " There's an abundance for this winter, and next, " said Mary, 
 as she brought forw-ard three pairs of her husband's warm wool 
 socks, knitted by herself. These, with Richard Beame's muf- 
 fler, will just fill the trunk. Ah ! here's Thad's new mittens ; he 
 insists upon giving them." 
 
 " Perhaps it would be better for Robert to wear them," answered 
 Filette. 
 
 '' 1 think so." « 
 
 All the members of the family now gathered into the parlors 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 525 
 
 with the guests, in the evening. Pleasant games were provided 
 for the younger ones, while conversation interested the elders. 
 
 Hester's request was presented, that she might hear something 
 about the South.- Mrs. Glenly took up the cause and asked her 
 husband to relate the incidents of the visit of their Quaker friend, 
 from New York, in South Carolina and Georgia. Upon gaining 
 his consent, Mrs. Glenly slipped from the room, and Binah en- 
 tered without comment. 
 
 " Your room be all right, Mrs. Buddington," said Binah, drop- 
 ping her curtsy. " I likes to sit wid all, dis ebenin,' please ^Missis," 
 and her ample form, white apron, and tulip hued turban, dropped 
 into a chair by Lucy. 
 
 Mr. Glenly began by saying, — 
 
 "IMy Quaker friend was a young man of excellent and agree 
 able manners, whose business affairs carried him South, to Charles- 
 ton. During his stay there of several weeks, he called on a cler- 
 gyman, and in the course of conversation w^as shown his library. 
 ]\Iy friend mentioned his father's antiquarian taste for books and 
 documents, relating to the Society of Friends. At parting, the 
 clergyman gave him some pamphlets for his father ; among them 
 a tract describing the colony at Sierra Leone, and containing an 
 account of the slave trade in Africa. With the pamphlets in his 
 trunk, he started for Savannah. It was in January. He stopped 
 at the City Hotel, and there met a marshal of the City of New 
 York, who knew him. This marshal was in great repute for 
 catching runaway slaves. Not being at that time in pursuit of 
 his natural prey, and having his appetite for blood whetted by the 
 sight of my friend, and being in high feather among the slave- 
 holders, he pointed out my young friend as the son of an aboli- 
 tionist." 
 
 " What a happy discovery for the people of Savannah," re- 
 marked Squire Buddington. " I doubt not that worked up a fine 
 frenzy in their blue-blooded veins." 
 
 " The frenzy of immediate vengeance, upon the helpless head of 
 their victim, whom, however, they allowed to retire for the night, 
 unconscious of danger, that he might have no means of escape 
 from their villainous iiands" 
 
526 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " He might as well be in de hungry lion den. Dere be no 
 angel of de Lord, in dat South den ! " exclaimed Binah. 
 
 '' Binah, you have spoken a solemn truth," sighed Mary. 
 
 " Binah, has the proof of her own experience — that is the 
 surest, Mary," gravely replied George. "The man is to be pitied, 
 who falls into the Southerners hands." 
 
 " My friend was to be pitied. A gang of men forced open his 
 door, and with horrid blasphemy, struck him, kicked him, and spit 
 in his face." 
 
 Jesus hab mercy"! ejaculated Binah. Involuntary groans were 
 uttered by every listener. 
 
 Mr. Glenly continued, — 
 
 " They broke open his trunk and thrust their hands in his 
 pockets for anti-slavery documents. They found the Quaker 
 tract given him in Charleston, on Sierra Leone, and screamed 
 with exultation, — 
 
 "Here is the proof we wanted, the proof of his abolitionism." 
 
 The information was communicated to the mob, crowding the 
 halls and bar-room below, that a trunk full oi abolition documents 
 had been found. Howling and cursing, they seized the North- 
 erner, told him to say his last prayers, and go down with them. 
 He appealed to the proprietors of the hotel, but received for an 
 answer, — 
 
 "'Good God! you must not appeal to me. This is ad — d 
 delicate business. I shall not be able to protect my own property. 
 But I will go for the mayor.' " 
 
 " Could he not escape from a back window ? " asked Mrs. 
 Beame. 
 
 " No, mother," answered Richard, " there was no escape. All 
 Savannah was of one mind. Wherever he turned, he would have 
 fallen into the hands of the Philistines." 
 
 " Some advised him to jump from the three^story window of his 
 room. The bar-keeper wrote him, on a slip of paper, that his only 
 mode of escape was by the window." 
 
 "Ah! I see!"' exclaimed 'the doctor. " The infuriated wretches 
 on the pavement below, who clamored for his blood, would have 
 had his life all tfie same, and saved their own reputation as mur- 
 derers." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 527 
 
 " Awfully true," remarked George Buhdiugton. " His death 
 would have been denominated suicided 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Glenly, " he had made up his mind to die, and 
 began to descend from his room, where, fortunately at the foot of 
 the stairs, he was met by the mayor and several aldermen. 
 They accompanied him to his room, examined his books and 
 papers, and were assured that he came to Savannah on commercial 
 business. The mayor had promised the mob to take the so called 
 abolitionist into custody to try him the next morning. If he was 
 an abolitionist, he should not be suffered to go at large." 
 
 "T'ank de Lord dey didn't kill him in de street!" murmured 
 Binah, with both hands raised. 
 
 " He was confined in a cell doubly guarded. The blue-blooded 
 mob raved round the whole night, and the mayor was sent for to 
 prevent their breaking into his prison," 
 
 "Yet," interposed Mrs. Clarendon, " I am reluctant to credit the 
 idea, that the high-bred city of Savannah would allow a cold- 
 blooded murder like that to take place in their midst." 
 
 "On the contrary, Mrs Clarendon, the domestic code of the 
 high-bred and Christian Southerner, openly demands just such 
 murders, and makes it obligatory upon every citizen who w^ould 
 maintain an honorable reputation among them," explained Friend 
 Sterlingworth. 
 
 " Yes, madam," affirmed Mr. Glenly, " it would be as safe to fall 
 into the torturing hands of savage Indians as into the clutches of 
 those Georgians. Why ! believe me, madam, a gallows was erected, 
 with a barrel of feathers and a tub of tar under it, that the mob 
 might amuse themselves with their victim before hanging him. The 
 next morning, the mob followed him to the mayor's office, but the 
 mayor was satisfied with the proof that his visit to Savannah had 
 no connection wath anti-slavery projects. A pouring rain came 
 on at the time, scattered the crowd, and my friend passed out un- 
 observed. Ac parting, the mayor said to him, — 
 
 " * Young man, you may consider it a miracle that you have 
 escaped with your life.' " 
 
 " Where could he find refuge? " asked several voices at once. 
 
 " On board the ship ' Angelique ' bound for New York. The 
 captain received him with kindness, but soon after the mayor sent 
 
528 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 word that the populace had discovered his place of concealment, 
 and would attack the vessel." 
 
 " He might as well jump into the water next," said Hester. 
 
 " My Sabior ! " moaned Binah j " dey fish him out dere sure ! 
 kill him twice ober." 
 
 " The captain of the * Angelique ' took him in a boat, bade him 
 lie down flat in the bottom, and rowed the persecuted young man 
 to a brig bound for Providence. The captain of the brig had a 
 fancy to play into the hands of his pursuers, by sending him back 
 to the city, but, by the persuasion of the captain of the ^ Ange- 
 lique,' my friend w'as allowed to be put on board." 
 
 "That Providence captain was a dough face, Uucle George," said 
 Alfy. 
 
 " That's it, my boy. Proceed, Mr. Glenly." 
 
 " Remember, my friends, this was in the month of January, and 
 the brig was bound North. Our traveler had been robbed of his 
 money and clothing in Savannah. The voyage lasted thirty- five 
 ciays, accompanied by a severe storm. Unshielded from the in- 
 clemency of the season, his hands and feet were frozen. Arrived 
 home, his friends scarcely knew the haggard wayfarer as their 
 own." 
 
 " A thousand thanks, Mr. Glenly," for this history, said Filette. 
 '* You have described an impending fate, to any one or all of us, 
 who may venture into the land of the jessamine and the rose." 
 
 "The land of the assasin and the fiend, Mrs. Buddington, with 
 your permission," said Air. Link. 
 
 " Mr. Glenly," remarked Friend Sterlingworth, "that Savannah 
 mob was more successfully controlled by the mayor, than the Bos- 
 ton mob by Mayor Lyman. The Savannah mayor got his man into 
 jail without harm and out of the city, while IMayor Lyman's mob 
 cut the traces of the carriage, held the horses, hauled the driver off 
 his seat, and — " 
 
 " Do relate the particulars. Friend Sterlingworth," begged the 
 whole party. 
 
 " I will give a brief sketch of the Boston mob, to illustrate the 
 subserviency of the North to the slave power, or the harmony of 
 interests between Savannah and Boston, at that time. The South 
 says, — 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 529 
 
 " * We cannot afford to have the question of slavery discussed.' 
 
 "The North answers, — 
 
 " ' It shall not be discussed.' 
 
 " Thus, Mr. Garrison, the editor of the Liberator, becomes an ob- 
 ject of envenomed hatred to the Boston public ; a reward is offered 
 for his head in the South ; a mob of two thousand of the most re- 
 spectable citizens in broadcloth, hunt him in the North. 
 
 " The Boston Female Anti slavery society organized a meeting, 
 at which it was thought Garrison and Thompson, an English gen- 
 tleman visiting this country would speak. But the owner of the 
 hall notified them that they could not hold their meeting unless 
 they would give him bonds to the amount of ten thousand dollars 
 for the safety of his building. The meeting was postponed a week, 
 when the ladies again announced a meeting in a small hall belong- 
 ing to themselves, in the attic on the morning of that day. A pla- 
 card was posted in State Street, of which I will report a part. 
 
 " Bear in mind, my friends, that George Thompson numbered 
 among his friends, Lord Broughman, Lord Denham, and other dis- 
 tinguished Englishmen, and that his cool and scholarly oratory was 
 irresistible to the consciences of men. This is a part of the 
 placard : — 
 
 " ' A purse of One Hundred dollars has been raised by a number 
 of patriotic citizens, to reward the individual who shall first lay 
 violent hands on Thompson, so that he may be brought to the tar- 
 kettle before dark. Friends of the Union be vigilant! ' Thomson 
 was not at the Ladies' meeting. Garrison was present. The rav- 
 enous mob below demanded both. The mayor sent the ladies home, 
 and, in order to protect the building, requested Mr. Garrison to 
 find some way of escape. 
 
 " ' Go out,' he -said, ' that I may say to these people, that you 
 are not here.' 
 
 " Mr. Garrison went out at the rear of the building only to be 
 seized by his watchful enemies and brought with demoniac shouts 
 into the hands of the rioters. He was rescued in a hand-to-hand 
 struggle, and, when carried before the mayor again, he had upon 
 him only vestiges of his clothing; a rope had been around his 
 body. The weak and timid mayor, instead of protecting him under 
 
53° WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 his own roof, sent him to the stronghold of the jail for safety. 
 
 " Such is the condition of our country. In servile submission to 
 the slave-master's wish, legislatures, pulpits, and presses thunder 
 forth silence to the advocates of liberty and justice. In Congress, 
 the measures of that arch-traitor, Calhoun, and the Pinckney gag 
 whittled by that Yankee, Atherton, crushed out the right of peti- 
 tion, so that the same chain which binds the slave gang of the 
 South, fetters the Northern Freeman." 
 
 "What is the Pinckney gag, sir.?" asked Thad. 
 
 " The Pinckney-Atherton gag is a rule of Congress, that every 
 petition, memorial, resolution, proposition or paper, touching or 
 relating in any way to Slavery or the abolition thereof, shall be 
 laid upon the table, without being debated, printed, or referred ; it 
 puts a hand upon the mouths of the people, and stifles their 
 prayers. Hunt up the Constitution, my lad, and measure this 
 Gessler rule by that instrument. 
 
 " The effrontery of the South, in endeavoring to throttle free 
 speech, has some masterly opponents, who would not be counted 
 fantastics," said Richnrd Beame. " Daniel Webster says, ' It is 
 the ancient and undoubted right of this people to canvass public 
 measures. It is a home-bred right ; it is a fireside privilege. It is 
 enjoyed in every house and cottage and cabin of the land. Be- 
 longing to private life as a right, it belongs to public life as a duty. 
 Wherever it is questioned, I will carry it to its fullest extent. 
 W^herever it is questioned, I will plant myself on the extremest 
 boundary of my rights, and defy every one to move me from my 
 ground. This high constitutional privilege, I will defend in this 
 House, and without the House, and in all places. In times of war 
 and in times of peace, and at all times living, I will assert it ; dying, 
 I will assert it ; and, if I leave no other inheritance to my chil- 
 dren, I will leave them the inheritance of free speech, and the 
 example of a manly and independent defense of it.' " 
 
 " Ah ! " said George Buddington, with much enthusiasm, " the 
 voice of Daniel Webster should be the voice of us all. We have only 
 to say to the South, ' We will speak ! ' In the language of Lowell, — 
 
 " The)' are slaves, who dare not speak 
 For the fallen and the weak ; 
 They are slaves, who dare not be 
 In the right, with two or three." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. £3 1 
 
 "According to the Governer of Massachusetts, Mr. Everett, we 
 have committed an indictable offence this day and evening, in dis- 
 cussing slavery and its cruelties. For so he denominated this kind 
 of conversation," declared Mr. Glenly. " But I say, let us abide 
 by our consciences, even to martyrdom. Let us teach to our chil- 
 dren and the communities in which we live, the maintenance of the 
 inalienable rights of man, without regard to his condition of servi- 
 tude or the complexion of his skin. What say you, my friends ? " 
 
 A chorus of deep and solemn " Ayes ! " was the response. 
 
 Hester, Susan and the children, tripped out to the kitchen ; the 
 former to look after the late tea, and the latter, for a few more 
 madcap pranks before parting. 
 
 The gentlemen stepped up to the fugitive's room to bid him be 
 of good cheer on his cold night's journey, and to confer upon 
 a name with which, in his great poverty, he had never been en- 
 dowed. 
 
 "Robert," said the host, "we give you a name to-night. You 
 will call yourself, hereafter, 'Robert Adams,' after John Quincy 
 Adams, a man in Congress at Washington, who speaks for freedom 
 on all occasions. He desires all the slaves to be free. Now see 
 if you can speak your own name so no one can catch you." 
 
 "Bob Adam, sir." 
 
 " No ; do not call yourself Bob ; you are a man, now. Call 
 yourself 'Robert ;' Robert Adams. Try again." 
 
 " Robert Adam, sir." 
 
 " Robert Adams-s. Try again." 
 
 " Robert Adams, sir." 
 
 " All right now, Robert ; do not forget." 
 
 Richard suggested that it would be better, on the whole, " to call 
 yourself ' Adams,' a part of the name. Mr. Link will call you 
 * Adams ' on the route, and you will get used to hearing it." 
 
 " Now, Adams," said Mr. Buddington, laying his hand on his 
 shoulder pleasantly, " come back to us. When there is freedom in 
 the South and the North, come back to us." 
 
 " Dat time long way off, sir, I spects." 
 
 " Times and seasons are in the hands of the Lord, who hears the 
 groans of the oppressed, or, in other words, God is merciful and 
 knows all better than we do." 
 
532 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "Meantime, * Adams,' get some one to teach you to read and 
 write. Never mind if it is slow work at first, study away, and find 
 some friend to write us for you. * Adams,' we shall not speak to 
 you after you leave this room, that you may get away safely ; so 
 here are our parting hands, and God bless you. The ladies will 
 come up with your tea, and wrap you for your journey." 
 
 The doctor remained to attend to the wounded arm, to give 
 directions about its future care, and the necessary protection from 
 the cold. The red bandana was in repeated requisition, as his 
 feet went busily between the bed and table, on which was his open 
 medicine case, with vials of washes and liniments, and long ban- 
 dages to be rolled. Anon he turned to Robert, lifted his arm, ex- 
 amined the fingers, asking questions which seemed to have 
 suddenly occurred. When all was done, he stood again by his 
 patient, and said with emotion, — 
 
 " There, poor fellow, I've done all I can for you. I shall have 
 to give you up into other hands. Those gentlemen understand 
 your danger, and I suppose the choice between Virginia and Can- 
 ada is plain. The good Queen Victoria will take care of you. By 
 George ! I wish we had as good a woman to rule in this country, 
 I'd rather see her in the President's chair, than any President we 
 have had so far." 
 
 At this point, the waving of the red bandana in the fire-light, 
 brightened up the room amazingly. But he went on, — 
 
 " Robert, I've done something ior you, but you have done more 
 for 7ne. Adams, your child-like forgetfulness of such unparalled 
 wrongs and injustice as slavery inflicts, has been a puzzle to me. 
 Why ! Robert," stepping round between him and the fire, " If I 
 had been in your shoes — no — by George ! "you had none. If I 
 had been m your tracks, I should have knocked down and dragged 
 out. Old marse nor young marse wouldn't have had any heads on 
 their shoulders. Why ! ' Adams,' that's your name, you know, 
 though I shall call you Robert to myself ; well, ' Adams ' if your 
 intellect had not been forever under the heel of the white man, 
 you would have handled the lancet to-day, as well as I do ; for 
 that matter, perhaps better. You could have had your horse, your 
 home, your office and library, as well as the best of us. My God ! 
 there must be a way for you oppressed people out of some Red 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 533 
 
 Sea, before many years ! I feel it and believe it. . The Lord 
 Almighty, whom these churches worship, is not t]ie Lord they 
 make him. He cannot be deaf to all the groans, and cries, and 
 tears of anguish that daily go up to Him from that hell in the South, 
 Now, Robert, — ah ! ' Adams,' give me your whole hand. I'm 
 going to say ' good-bye.' Hear me. Hold up that broken arm 
 and withered hand, every day before your Creator, and pray for 
 His vengeance on that cursed Constitution, and our laws, and the 
 men who framed them. If He's a God of mercy. He will hear. 
 Another thing ; get a spelling-book and study, learn to read and 
 write, if it takes you ten years, and if you ever dare to come into 
 the States, come to me and my Lucy. I've pinned a paper 
 with written directions for your arm inside your coat pocket, and 
 I've tucked into the same pocket a roll of bandages and the lini- 
 ments. Good-bye, Robert. Good-bye, ' Adams.'" 
 
 At ten o'clock the Thanksgiving festivities closed. The confu- 
 sion of departure began. One vehicle ofter another rumbled away 
 on the frozen road. Robert descended into the dark hall, followed 
 by Lucy and Filette ; not a word was spoken. Out in the dark- 
 ness, Mr. Link and Adams stepped into a light, covered wagon, so 
 mufHed, that ' Fugitive ' or ' Samaritan ' were undistinguishable. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 " /'~\H ! how it rains, Cossetina," regretfully spoke the lady at 
 \^^ the window, leaning her forehead against the sash, and^peer- 
 ing out into the gray sheets dashing upon the huddled roofs, the 
 brick walls, and the paved streets of the city. " What a dreary 
 rain ! and this gale from the south-east is terrific ! " 
 
 Cossetina came up by the side of her mistress, and felt herself 
 enfolded by the arm and delicate hand about her shoulders. In 
 answer to this token of her mistress' never-failing affection for her 
 little foreign maid, she slipped her own arm about the waist of her 
 mistress, asking with a troubled expression, — 
 " Why is my lady grave .'' Zaffiri loves the rain ! " 
 This was spoken in the tenderest accents of her native Italian 
 
534 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 tongue — the charmed language in which her thoughts flowed most 
 easily, and which was ever chosen, when mistress and maid were 
 alone. 
 
 " Zaffiri dearly loves a rainy day ; but her dear husband is on 
 the wild, -tossing sea to-day; there is danger in its treacherous 
 waves. He is returning from a journey to tlie South on business." 
 
 Cossetina crossed herself, murmuring, — 
 
 *' The Almighty "God will protect." 
 
 For a while they stood by the window, silently watching the 
 few pedestrians, who, from necessity, dared to face the pitiless 
 storm. 
 
 "How is old mauma, this morning, Cossetina? Have you 
 looked into her room ? Has she a warm fire .'' " 
 
 " Ah ! truly ; I look in often, as your kind heart bade me — 
 old mauma is well and happy, her fire is bright. She sent her 
 heart's best love to you dear lady, and, I almost forgot — mauma 
 begged me to ask you to see her to-day in your room, if you had 
 no other engagement." 
 
 " I have none ; and the kindly falling rain will prevent all par- 
 lor calls. I have wished to have an uninterrupted interview with 
 the poor old creature, ever since her arrival, but absences on my 
 part, visits received, and my husband's departure, have occupied 
 the days. Thanks to the falling clouds, old mauma can come to 
 my hearth and my heart to-day. Cossetina, this is your ironing 
 day ; so go now, and support mauma along the halls. Put a 
 warm shawl about her, first. Then, about twelve, tell Antony to 
 bring us up a nice Innch, with tea for mauma. Come yourself, 
 Cossetina, and lunch with us. Bring mauma soon, that I may 
 have a long conference with her." 
 
 Before the little maid left the room, she placed easy chairs 
 before the glowing grate, and extended her care to the corrections 
 of any delinquences in her morning's work about Zaffiri's chamber. 
 Presently, along the halls were heard a stumping cane, and slow, 
 shuffiing steps, with little peals of laughter, and a cheery young 
 voice, broken into sparkling ejaculations. 
 
 Cossetina threw open the door, with the parade of an usher of 
 royalty, and a gleeful '"'■ Eccomi! Eccola ! Eccoci ! Zaffiri !^' while the 
 sunny light of her native skies seemed to rest upon her Italian 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 535 
 
 face. She led the bent form, leaning upon her stick, up to her 
 mistress, chattering, — 
 
 " Vogliate vol bend ire mia madre miser a ! una donna buona e reli- 
 giosay 
 
 Zaffiri gave smilng welcome to both. 
 
 The two were rare natures that she loved to have clinging about 
 her. She took mauma's hand, and rose, leading her to a low 
 arm-chair, on the warm side of the grate. The white, blue-veined 
 hand, and the toil-worn, withered black one of mauma, met in an 
 affectionate clasp. Mauma held the fair fingers, but hesitated. 
 Zaffiri waited patiently, while her admiring eyes fell upon the new 
 black dress ; the white wool blanket, bound with white silk, pinned 
 in Quaker neatness close about the neck, and the quaint, bright- 
 hued India turban, tastily tied about her head, — all the gifts of 
 her own bounty to the destitute old woman. 
 
 " Come, mauma, take the arm-chair, and sit by me ! Poor 
 mother," at length spoke Zaffiri. 
 
 " I think I stand here before my dear missis ; " and her meek, 
 subdued syes, in her turn, rested with wonder and amusement 
 upon the beautiful lady, whose voice was like healing balm to her 
 bruised spirit. " Mauma never have set down before a lady." 
 
 " Will mauma, with her broken back, stand leaning on her stick 
 before Zaffiri ? " she exclaimed, with unfeigned surprise. " I arii 
 shocked at the idea! If there be any respectful standing in the 
 case, Zaffiri will stand before her aged mauma. But there shall be 
 none. Come into the warm easy-chair, close by my side. Mauma 
 shall be Zaffiri's guest and friend all this pouring, rainy day." 
 
 The old woman suffered herself to be led along and seated. 
 Cossetina still stood in the floor with the bright shawl, just taken 
 from mauma's shoulders, over her arm, directing her spoken 
 thoughts to her mistress. 
 
 " Faremi eke eila fosse pin eke la nevebianca ! Bella a vedere! Car a 
 a undire^ 
 
 Mauma's black, but sweet face turned inquiringly to Zaffiri. 
 
 *'What is the birdie saying? She has been chirruping in my ear 
 all the way along. I think I hear something like it in New 
 Orleans ; it might have been a mocking-bird's song. Mauma dis- 
 remember." 
 
536 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " She is chattering Italian, mauma," explained Zaffiri. *'Cosse- 
 tina lovs her own tongue; all her sweetest thoughts melt into it. 
 Cossetina loves mauma. She calls you her unhappy mother. She 
 begs me to please you. She says you appear to her whiter than 
 snow ; and she says you are beautiful to see, and pleasant to 
 hear." 
 
 "Dear lady, pardon the offense — but black as I am, I do not 
 suppose old mauma is less acceptable to her Maker ; but with His 
 creatures there is a great difference. That young birdie seems not 
 to know. " 
 
 "Therejs no difference with me," said Zaffiri assuringly, as she 
 knelt upon the carpet by mauma's chair, and folding her arms about 
 her, kissed her wrinkled cheek. 
 
 Strangely enough, this warmth of feeling appeared to cheer 
 its recipient, who replied, with her hand raised like a shield 
 between herself and the kneeling Zaffiri, and her diamond eyes ; 
 moist with feeling, — 
 
 " Mv beautiful child, do not love old mauma too much. All 
 mauma loves on this earth have turned to bitter gall. The Lord 
 above is mauma's portion — she can have no other. But, my dear 
 missis, this old heart has found a new burden which it wishes to 
 lay at your feet to-day. Old age is upon me, I may die before I 
 can tell you. Can the singing birdie go, missis? " 
 
 This last request was spoken so solemnly, that an awe crept into 
 Zaffiri's spirit. She turned to her maid. 
 
 " Go now, Cossetina. Remember to send Antony with the lunch 
 at one, instead of twelve. Come yourself." 
 
 As the door closed, Zaffiri drew her chair close to mauma, as- 
 suring her that now was the opportutity to say what she wished. 
 
 " I suppose the good Master Lambelle has explained why he 
 bought me in New Orleans, missis ? " 
 
 " Yes ; he said he found you on the street, and he bought you 
 at your request. Something impelled him to listen to your peti- 
 tion that he could not resist. He felt himself too happy in being 
 able to smooth the few remaining years of an old slave's life." 
 
 " And you, my beautiful lady, took the old slave to your home 
 and heart, although I have scarcely seen you since I landed from 
 the ship that brought me here, in New York. But mauma knows, 
 
WHITE MAY, ANb BLACK JUNE. 537 
 
 mauma knows. Missis has been traveling and entertaining ; all 
 her time has been full." She laid her hand upon Zaffiri's knee. 
 " Now will de dear missis 'low the old slave to tell her the story ? 
 It may be tiresome to the blessed lady, but mauma must tell all ; 
 can't pick out some here, some there or, ma3'be, she lose part." 
 
 " Relate all as pleases you best," said Zaffiri. "I shall be inter- 
 ested in every event of your life." 
 
 "I must tell dear missis how I come here, first." 
 
 "Yes, mauma, proceed." 
 
 " Thank, missis. I was not raised in New Orleans ; but since I 
 was there, I will tell missis I grew old in that city, that I fell over 
 backwards from the chair on which I stood to clean my master's 
 cupboard, and broke this back. I had the doctor's care, because I 
 was -a valuable slave, and to lose me, or to have me become dis- 
 abled, was the same to master as to lose a valuable horse. But, 
 my dear missis, the back would not cure, and they cursed me for 
 falling, and beat me because I could not v/alk about quick, and do 
 the work I did before. But the Lord helped me ; I lived through 
 all. When age come on me, my dear missis, this back got weak 
 and painful, so sometimes it appeared I must die. Then my 
 owners got hard on the poor old slave, and wanted to get me o^ 
 their hands. Nobody would buy me, so they made me sell in the 
 street." 
 
 " Dear me ! mauma, what could you sell ? " sorrowfully asked 
 Zaffiri. 
 
 " Oh ! I could sell great many things they have there. I could 
 sit on a bench, and sell from a little tray ; but I could not carry 
 round on my head, and cry, berries and fruit ! like others. I sold 
 ground nuts and ground-nut cakes, made up with boiled molasses. 
 I could done very well, and carried home my 'lowance every night, 
 if ever3-body was honest, and the boys didn't steal." 
 
 " What do you mean by carrying home your allowance ? " 
 
 " You don't know the slave-masters' ways, missis. Dey make 
 we old, worn-out ones sell and bring home every night to them, so 
 much money — so many picayunes. If we don't carry the owners 
 just what they say, then they whip us, and give us no supper." 
 
 " Poor mauma ! did they whip you if you failed to bring back 
 the amount of money } you, with gray hair and a broken back ? " 
 
538 WHITE MAY, AI!D BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "They did beat me, dear missis. Under this beautiful dress and 
 this fine flannel you gave me, you can see the welts of their lash. 
 I dreaded the whipping so much. My sisters in the church, better 
 off than I was, used to give me pennies and picayunes, nights, to 
 make out the money for master, before I dared to go home." 
 
 " Mauma ! " cried Zaffici, in a tortured voice. " Mauma, were 
 your owners rich and in high life.? Did they boast the blue and 
 gentle blood of the ancient chivalry who were the defenders of the 
 oppressed ? " 
 
 " My beautiful missis, they were rich, had plenty of slaves, sugar- 
 cane fields, sugar house and cotton fields, had grand house, grand 
 furniture, horses handsome and plenty, carriages, silver everywhere ; 
 and, I hear Miss Alice, Miss Sally, and Miss Jane talk about that 
 'high blood' and 'blue blood' and 'proud blood.' Yes! -they 
 rich, missis, but they make me sell, and whip me, all the same." 
 
 "How could you endure so much, mauma?" 
 
 "The Lord help me to live, I think, dear missis, to come to you, 
 at last. Well, after a long sickness, I caught in the street in the 
 rain ; my owners told me to find a buyer for a hundred dollars ; 
 they couldn't find a buyer on the auction-table or anywhere else 
 for half as much. I tried a long time in vain. I wanted a buyer 
 for this poor old body. I thought a new owner might not be too 
 cruel." 
 
 "None would buy? none had mercy? " questioned Zaffiri. 
 
 "No mercy is in New Orleans, dear missis; but one morning I 
 prayed to de Lord to take mercy on me, an old slave. I prayed 
 on my knees, with tears on my face, and with my old hands wring- 
 ing before the White Throne, that some kind master would buy 
 me. I went out with my tray of ground-nut cakes and my bag of 
 nuts, sat down on my bench, and looked in the face of all who 
 bought from the tray. Some were boys and some girls ; a few 
 were men, but their faces were cruel and hard. At last, a gentle- 
 man stopped on his walk, and said pleasantly, — 
 
 '''Mauma, give me a cup of ground nuts.' 
 
 " The price was little, but he laid down two silver quarters, and 
 he spoke with a gentle voice, — 
 
 '"You are old, mauma; take that for yourself, for your own 
 comfort.' 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 539 
 
 "I looked up into his face — it was kind and pitiful ; then I said 
 to myself 'This gentleman was never a slave-master ; his hand and 
 heart must be good. I will ask him to buy me, for the Lord helps 
 them that help themselves.' Then I held up my hands to him I 
 said ' Old mauma must be sold, too. Will the good gentleman buy 
 me .'' J, can tend the kitchen fire, wash dishes, baste the roast, and 
 wash vegetables. I am cruelly beaten some nights 'cause I cannot 
 carry home my 'lowance of money to master. But I will try to 
 earn my little bacon and hominy in your kitchen. I can make hoe- 
 cake or a pound-cake to please the taste of any gentleman or lady ; 
 but this old back is broke, and I cannot do more.' I still held up 
 my hands to plead with him ; the tears fell down my face. 
 
 " ' I am a Northern "man, old mauma,' he said. *I do not buy 
 slaves." 
 
 " Buy me, then, kind master. Old mauma will take some little 
 corner in your large house. Buy me, kind master ; and if you or 
 your lady is sick, old mauma will watch by your bedside all the 
 long night. If you have children, old mauma can sing lullaby, and 
 hush them to sleep. She has been house-servant, lady's maid and 
 nurse. Then I saw his eyes were wet, and he said, — 
 
 " ' Can you go in the ship a thousand miles .«* ' 
 
 " I said,— 
 
 "'Yes, master, I came here on a ship.' 
 
 "Then he thought awhile, and said, — 
 
 "'I am going now, but will come back this evening. Comfort 
 your heart to-day. I think you will go with me.' 
 
 " I warn him not to buy me himself. Our people hate Yankees, 
 and they would not sell to him. Told him to get the agent to buy 
 for him." 
 
 " Yes, that was an excellent ruse," said Zaffiri. " My good hus- 
 band told the slave-dealer that he was from Texas, and wanted 
 you as an old nurse for an invalid — and he was just from Texas 
 on his way home, by land across the country." 
 
 " Sure, missis, the good master came back in the evening, and 
 said the agent had bought me for him ; that he should send a 
 carriage for me to go on board the New York ship ; but I warn 
 him to send a mule-cart for a poor old slave. How I thanked him, 
 and the blessed Lord above ; but he told me be calm and show no 
 
540 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 joy, and he would be on the wharf waiting for me. He did what 
 he said and more. He brought blankets, and a shawl, and a 
 warm hood for the passage. So I am here, dear missis. And 
 when I look at the pretty warm room you gave me, and this 
 beautiful black dress, and all I have, I cry, and pray God to bless 
 you both, and to give you all your heart's desire in this world, and 
 a reward in the next." 
 
 Zaffiri sat absorbed in the old woman's feelings — in her sorrows 
 and joys — this was a phase of the purchase she could hear from no 
 other lips. She brushed away a few tears, and took mauma's hand, 
 holding it in both of hers, and said soothingly, — 
 
 " Mauma, I have all I can wish in this world, pertaining to my 
 happiness, but one thing. I have not the power to give freedom 
 to any slave that bows under the yoke of bondage ; that would be 
 a supreme felicity. It is a constant pleasure to know that the last 
 remnant of your life will be free ; but that satisfaction is embit- 
 tered by the recollection of the sorrows and wrongs of millions yet 
 unredressed." 
 
 "Nobody but God, my dear missis, can set all free. We believe 
 that sometime and somehow, He will do that, because we pray to 
 Him, day and night, and our groans go up before Him. Oh 1 my 
 missis, the Lord will hear. He made us ; we are His children — 
 the work of His hands. That whole South is Ramah, where, as 
 the Bible says, there is a great voice heard of lamentation, weep- 
 ing, and great mourning. Rachel weeping for her children. O 
 blessed Jesus ! we are all Rachels. Missis, mauma has had ten 
 children; all sold to the trader; boys — girls — all gone. Me one 
 left alone. ]\Iissis, God must hear." 
 
 The conversation had a welcome interruption, by Antony and 
 Cossetina, with a delightful lunch. The latter flew for a nest of 
 gilded Chinese tables; placing one before each, chirruping, as 
 usual, her mellifluous tongue. 
 
 "Mauma," said Antony, as he waited for the tables, "you is 
 queen, now, in dis house. T'ank de Lord you will never suffer no 
 mo'." 
 
 Zaffiri poured Mauma's tea with her own hand, and filled her 
 plate with luxuries. Cossetina's laugh and chatter made music 
 with the rain on the panes, till the banquet was over. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 54I 
 
 Left alone again, Zaffiri remarked, — 
 
 "The rain still pours. Mauma, the afternoon will be ours. 
 
 "Thank the good Lord for this opportunity; for, my dear lady, 
 ever since I saw your sweet face and looked into your eyes, I 
 have been carried back to years long ago. I have lived over again 
 forgotten events. There is a tanglement in all this ; a troublesome 
 suspicion, and a burden that weighs heavily upon my thoughts. I 
 must spread all before you, and beg your help." 
 
 " I do not understand you, mauma ; but if I can, under your aid, 
 I shall do so. Take your own course." 
 
 " No ! the dear missis don't understand. She can't dream these 
 old arms might possibly have held her when she was a crowing 
 babe. She can't dream that this cracked old voice has ever hushed 
 her blue eyes to sleep with a lullaby." 
 
 Zaffiri changed color. With blanched face and startled eyes, she 
 
 replied, — 
 
 "That is impossible, mauma. I have never been in New 
 
 Orleans." 
 
 " It seems impossible, and possible both to mauma. The strange 
 idea wakes me out of my sleep o'night. I study and study about 
 it. Then I say, ' No ! no ! it cannot be ! ' Then, a darlin' little 
 face, with violet eyes, with waxen skin, and cheeks and chin in the 
 color of the rose leaf, laughs out way down in my feeble memory, 
 and crows out, ' Yes ! yes ! ' 
 
 "Dear, darlin' missis, don't turn so white! Old mauma will 
 hush. Maybe old mauma's brain is turned with too much joy. 
 Mauma will hush. There, take the salts ; they will revive my 
 
 blessed child." 
 
 The old creature had brought this restorative before Zaffiri had 
 observed her movements, so completely was she stunned by her 
 unexpected words. She quickly took the bottle from mauma's 
 hand, and, in a prolonged revery, strove to decide whether those 
 sentences were the delirious fancies of a harmless and happy 
 dotage, or whether the withered oracular finger of the old slave 
 was *about to rend the veil which had overclouded her past — a 
 past, within which she had vainly striven to look. Determined to 
 thread the labyrinth further, she said to mauma, — 
 
542 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " Mauma, where was you born ? Where did you spend the early 
 part of your life ? " 
 
 "I was born in South Carolina, missis. I was raised in Charles- 
 ton, mostly," she answered unobtrusively, measuring the reply 
 squarely by the question. 
 
 " When w^ere you sold to New Orleans ? " 
 
 "After I was settled woman, missis." 
 
 "What was the character and standing of your owners? " 
 
 " They were religious. I belonged to one of the first families." 
 
 Zaffiri, fearing she might betray too much interest by this system 
 of catechising the wise old mauma, said indulgently, — 
 
 "Proceed mauma, as you choose in your history. Your own 
 suggestions will be much better than questioning. I will bring my 
 crochet work." 
 
 She brought her basket of bright colors, finding in them and 
 her needle an excellent means of concealment for the uncontroll- 
 able agitation which caused every nerve to vibrate. She drew the 
 orange, browns and greens over her hand, as if to compare quali- 
 ties, and said, — 
 
 " I am ready now." 
 
 " Old mauma must beg pardon first for her great offence to her 
 best friend on earth, for making her turn pale and faint. It is 
 only an old slave's memory waking up, and may be, not half wake 
 either, and my dear missis look so like one sweet bud of a babe 
 old mauma held on her knees, long years ago." 
 
 " You have committed no offence. I am accustomed to faint 
 sometimes. I desire, to know your experience in life, that I may 
 give you my sympathy in your last days. Mauma have no fear ; 
 unburden your mind freely." 
 
 "Then I wall obey. I w-as the child of an African woman 
 brought over to Charleston in the slave-ship. I am nearly as dark 
 as she was. She was put in the rice field. But when I was a 
 young girl in the rice fields, too, her master came to the plantation 
 to see the overseer, and 'range the house for his residence that win- 
 ter. He was walking along the banks one day, and noticed me. 
 The next day, overseer sent me up to the big house for house- 
 servant. My master was not married, and make me his black 
 wife. I lived with him four years, and he spent all his winters at 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 543 
 
 the plantation. If he traveled in the summer, I stayed and kept 
 the house. If he spent the summer at Charleston — he had a fine 
 house there — he took me with him." 
 
 Zaffiri stopped crocheting and exclaimed, — 
 
 " Mauma, how can those Southerners excite the North to such 
 an unholy prejudice against color, when they choose their wives 
 from their slaves, and even from the children of native Afri- 
 cans ? " 
 
 " They choose us because they love us, but they never tell the 
 North about these things." 
 
 " Mauma, tell me, did you love your master ? " asked Zaffiri, 
 dropping her needle. 
 
 " Yes, missis, I must confess I loved him, because he loved me. 
 He bought me dresses, and ear-rings, and beautiful white muslin 
 handkerchiefs for turbans, sprinkled over with flowers. I had fine 
 furniture in our room — and that was one of the handsome cham- 
 bers. I was his wife, missis, and all the rice hands called me 
 so." 
 
 " Had you children ? " 
 
 " I had three handsome brown boys, and a nurse for them. 
 What I tell you next, missis, made my heart ache for years ; but 
 thank the good Lord, all the pains and aches have gone way now. 
 All the loves of this cold earth have gone far off with the weeks, 
 the months, and the years. I have a rest in my soul now. After 
 a few happy years, my master had me sit dowu by him, and told 
 me he was going to get married ; that I must go to Charleston 
 and live in a small house, or part of a house he had rented for me : 
 that I could support myself there, and he would not require 
 monthly wages. He talk to me as if all that was necessary was 
 to say what he wished, and I should be satisfied. But, my dear 
 missis, although I knew it mi^sf de so, the tears run down my face 
 all night. And what to do with my pretty boys ? Two should 
 stay on the plantation and learn to be coachman and butler. I 
 begged for one to go with me, and he consent to hire him out in 
 Charleston. 
 
 " When I was putting my dresses and clothes in the box to go, 
 master said, — 
 
 " ' Oh Molly, it will be the same. I shall be in Charleston half 
 
544 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 the time, and I shall come to see you often. Cheer up, Molly. Go 
 to Charleston, and wait for me.' 
 
 " So he married, and a rich white lady took my place." 
 
 " Did he visit you in your Charleston home ? " asked Zaffiri, 
 horrified at the revelation of inconsistency. 
 
 " Yes, missis, he come often, and was as pleased to see me as 
 ever. I had five more children in Charleston — for I was his black 
 wife still. Nanc}^ Molly, Jane, Ed and Sam. Molly and Jane 
 were like their father ; tall, handsome, just a little brown, with 
 long, curly hair, teeth white as milk, large dark brown eyes, and 
 black, heavy lashes. They had their father's high, proud nose, 
 and small proud mouth ; his pride was in his step." 
 
 She uttered a low, unconscious groan, and relapsed into silence, 
 gazing abstractedly upon the working of her fingers lying upon her 
 lap. 
 
 "And you are childless now, dear mauma! " said Zaffiri, bend- 
 ing over, and resting her white hand on the old slave's knee. 
 
 Slowly bringing her mind back to the present, she raised her 
 eyes to Zaffiri, replying, — 
 
 " Yes, missis, yes ; all gone ; got nothing in this world ; nothing 
 but a few days freedom ; got Jesus, and the white robe in the 
 next." 
 
 " What became of 3"our master ? " 
 
 "Don't know what 'came of him, but will tell dear missis what 
 'came of me. He come to see me one day, when he had been 
 married about ten years ; and brought news that his wife was dead, 
 and that he should take his son to Europe the next year, when he 
 would be ten years old. He would put him to school in France. 
 When the year come round, he was not quite ready to go, and one 
 day in July he come and said, — 
 
 '"Molly, I'm going to send you a new boarder. Will you take 
 it?" 
 
 "What kin^ of a boarder will stay with Molly? the best room 
 is master's, and the children have the others." 
 
 " ' This boarder will stay in the room with you, Molly. It will be 
 a little infant for you to nurse and raise.' 
 
 "We were alone in our room." 
 
 Then old mauma's memory wandered away into a description of 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. £45 
 
 its furniture ; her old face grew sunny, unconsciously, under the 
 electrical power of the happy recollection. 
 
 " Our room was furnished in good style, missis. Master put in 
 it a solid mahogany bedstead, mahogany table, and elegant 
 mahogany wardrobe ; stuffed chairs, and a rich carpet, covered with 
 roses ; handsome lace curtains inside the paper ones ; sofa, glass 
 drop-lamps, and everything nice." 
 
 "Is it true, mauma ! It seems to me he would not furnish a 
 slave-wife's bedchamber in so costly a manner. " 
 
 " True as de Bible, missis. Masters are proud and love their 
 black wiie. Those men are not obliged to take us for wife. 
 Nobody can make a Southern gentleman do what he don't choose. 
 They choose their wife, they want handsome room, and they make 
 them beautiful. But I forget my story — ^does it rain hard, 
 missis?" 
 
 "Yes, mauma; no one will ring our bell to-day." 
 
 " What did I say last, missis ? " 
 
 " You said you and your master were alone in your room." 
 
 " True, missis ; I done forgot \ve were alone, and master told 
 me to turn the key. Then he said, — 
 
 ' I shall probably bring a little infant here soon. Now, Molly, I 
 will make you an offer or a promise, and you shall make me a 
 promise ; if you keep yours I will keep mine. My promise is, that 
 I will give you your freedom and take you North out of harm's 
 way, after you have fulfilled yours. Your promise is, that you will 
 nurse and raise this child, swearing never to reveal who brought it 
 here or when it came. You have cunning enough. When you take 
 it on the street, airing, if you are questioned, say you are nurse for 
 a Northern lady tarrying in the city. Swear to me, Molly, to keep 
 this secret, and I will swear to you, your freedom, when the child 
 will be sent for and you give it up.' " 
 
 " I promise on my part, and know I could keep it. 
 
 "About three weeks after, a carriage drove up to my door at 
 midnight. Master came in with a basket in his hand, and said, — 
 
 ' Here, Molly, take your charge and take good care ! ' 
 
 "He went away again, but told me, the next day that he should 
 leave for France in about two weeks. He did go ; I tended the 
 little girl j it grew beautiful every day ; and it was pure white 
 
54^ WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 blood. I knew it was my master's child — it look like him. It had 
 the same look my children had — my handsome girls. It was his 
 child, I knew in my own soul, and he had got into trouble. I 
 named her Pearl. Nobody found out my secret. Dear missis, I 
 wanted freedom, and I was glad to earn it so easy. Everybody 
 stop to admire and pet my baby on the street ; everybody say, 
 ' What lily skin ! what sky blue eyes! Then they said, 'That red 
 hair will be wavy auburn when she is young lady ! ' " 
 
 An overshadowing premonition seemed to chain the lips of Zaffiri 
 as she bent her head, searching over her worsteds, and plunged her 
 fingers into the bright colors of her work, raising them to the dull, 
 gray light. 
 
 " Had her father, as you suppose 5^our master was, red hair ? " 
 she carelessly asked, — 
 
 "Why, missis, I knew he was her father. After he went to 
 France, I used to run up to his grand house in Charleston, to see 
 the servants that he left there to take care. Once, I saw there 
 the old housekeeper from the plantation — she was there over 
 ni^ht — she had come down to be hired out in the citv. She told me 
 after master went to France, a gentleman from Alabama came to the 
 next plantation, and wanted to fight a duel with my master. He 
 got so angry, walked the room with a pistol in his hand, till he 
 said he would shoot him at sight. It was his sister that visited at 
 that plantation a year before — splendid young lady, with red hair 
 curling down her fair neck and shoulders. She said master was 
 over there a great deal ; and the servants told her she was engaged 
 to be married to master; but something happened that she cried a 
 great deal, and, from what the servants overheard, her father had 
 lost property. Now, I know master wouldn't marry a white wife, 
 unless she had a power of money. His white wife that took my 
 place, brought him two hundred thousand dollars. 
 
 " So, missis, I said nothing to the housekeeper when she told 
 me, but I knew whose child I was totin' round. I knew whose 
 beautiful red hair growed on my little darlin's head. I kept my 
 promise, till little Pearl was toddling round on her little feet and 
 holding on to mauma's finger, calling mauma, mauma ! Then a 
 man came and said he had a letter from master ; it was all sealed ; 
 he said he would read it to me. The letter said I could have 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 547 
 
 freedom now ; that master was in New York waiting for me, to give 
 me free papers, and that the boat would leave that night. I must 
 get ready and go down to the wharf after dark, and that I might 
 take my five children with me. The gentleman said he would come 
 in the afternoon, and take little Pearl to another nurse. How 
 happy I was, packing up our clothes, and packing up little Pearl 
 baby's beautiful dresses, and cloaks, and lace caps." 
 
 " Mauma, you must have been sorry to part with the fair little 
 child ! " ventured Zaffiri. " She must have wound herself into your 
 affections." 
 
 " I loved her more than I can tell, missis, and I loved her ever 
 since ; but I said to myself, ' She is white and fair, she will grow 
 up a lady, her father will give her money.' So I trust her to the 
 Lord, and turned round to my own children. The gentleman 
 came in the evening to take me and my children to the New York 
 boat ; he walked, to show us the way, and put us aboard — said 
 the boxes would go in the cart." 
 
 " Oh ! my dear missis, the stone pavements that night, seemed 
 to be velvet to Molly's feet. The street lamps and the lighted 
 windows 'peared like an illumination for the freedom of Molly and 
 her children. We took a small boat, and rowed out to the ship, 
 rocking on the waves. The gentleman gave us seats on the deck, 
 went out to the captain, and talked with him in a low tone, and re- 
 turned to the city. Charleston looked so beautiful, lying low on 
 the water, sparkling with thousands of lights. The land breeze 
 was strong, and we soon left it behind, and bore away down the 
 bay, over the bar, and out to sea under the stars. Then the cap- 
 tain came and said, with his rough voice, — 
 
 "'Go down below.' 
 
 "We went below. O my blessed Jesus ! what did Molly and her 
 children see ! Hundreds of slaves, crying, groaning, praying ; 
 men, women, and babies ; young and old ; some chained by hands ; 
 some by hands and feet ; some on the floor, crying, * God have 
 mercy /" 
 
 " Then I said, — 
 
 " * Where all you going ? ' 
 
 "* We goin' where jw/ goin' — to New Orleans.' 
 
 " Then I faint way, and fall on the floor, too. My children cr}^, 
 
54^ WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 and say, * We goin' to New York.' The trader come down with 
 his black whip, and hush everybody. So Molly and her children 
 were sold to New Orleans. We were all put on the block at New 
 Orleans. My beautiful girls were bought by the rich, white, young 
 planters for their wives. My boys, Ed and Sam, were sold too, 
 and carried off another way. That's all, missis. That's all." 
 
 " Where were you sold, mauma .'* " 
 
 " I ? I was sold for lady's-maid then, and been sold since for 
 nurse ; then, mauma sell in street." 
 
 This she spoke with an absent air, as if mind and thought had 
 gone out in a vague seeking after her lost children. 
 
 For a time, both sat silent. Zaffiri was in suspense, whether to 
 question further tjie fate of the blue-eyed Pearl, or to wait till the 
 arrival of her husband. A sudden sno^a^estion arose, that if old 
 mauma should really know the names of families and streets in 
 Charleston, it would confirm her story. Then, what was her mas- 
 ter's name ,? it had not been mentioned, and it had not occured to 
 Zaffiri to ask. Every event remained so vividly impressed on the 
 old woman's memor}'', might she not recollect some German names? 
 keepers of the numerous groceries ? 
 
 " I will venture to ask. I shall be satisfied ; and my purpose 
 cannot be suspected." 
 
 She strove to assume a calm, indifferent air, and broke the still- 
 ness by asking, — 
 
 " Mauma, do you remember any German names of the times 
 when you were in Charleston? My husband is a wholesale mer- 
 chant, and he might know the large firms." 
 
 " Oh ! true, dear missis, mauma remembers." 
 
 The clear sunlight of former happiness seemed to have photo- 
 graphed indelibly every scene and figure upon the tablet of her 
 past. She ran over a list of the hard names, and lo ! there dropped 
 from her facile lips the fateful one of ' Deiderich Weintze.' 
 
 " Did you know Mr. Weintze, mauma ? Mr. Lambelle has had 
 dealings with him." 
 
 " Know him well, missis. His grocery was on the corner of the 
 street where I staj^ed. He was not too young then ; must be 
 old now if he is living. Master send in there for best brand of 
 cigars." 
 
WHITE MAY, A^B BLACK JUNE. 549 
 
 "Mauma has not mentioned her master's name." 
 
 " Master's name was ' Warham/ and his white son's name was 
 Frederick Warham. He went to France with his father, missis." 
 
 The name of Frederick Warham struck a new chord in which 
 her own memory assisted. Her face burned crimson. Could it be 
 the same ? Was mauma's Frederick Warham the same Frederick 
 Warham? Was ^/lis one her graceful and gentlemanly attendant 
 at General Terreceine's grsLudjoiree in St. Louis ? Was this the 
 gentleman who never left her" side the whole evening ? on whose 
 arm she leaned in the fragrant gardens, and who, kneeling by her 
 fainting form, which had slid away from him to the floor, chafed her 
 hands tenderly ? He, too, was from Carolina. Then there flashed 
 back to memory the careless remark which fell upon her ear that 
 evening, and died as quickly. 
 
 " By Jove ! their resemblance is strong enough to he of the same fam- 
 ily — of the same bloods 
 
 Mauma threw a fond glance upon her, and turned away, relaps- 
 ing into melancholy. Zafhri was touched by the rigid silence re- 
 garding herself, which mauma had maintained, since, with hurried 
 and tottering steps, she brought her the salts ; and her resolve was 
 
 made. 
 
 " Mauma, look at me," she said excitedly. " Can you keep a 
 secret, as you kept that one of your master's ? I cannot offer you 
 freedom — that is yours already — but for my sake, can you keep 
 
 my secret ? " • j- 
 
 " Mauma can keep a secret as well as ever, and will, till she die. 
 
 All a poor old slave can do for her beautiful missis." 
 
 Zaf&ri tossed her worsteds in confusion upon the carpet, and 
 
 after some delay, said, — 
 
 "Keep my secret, mauma. Zaffiri ie a slave — a Southern 
 
 slave r^ 
 
 "No! no ! she is a born lady, with blue veins, blue eyes, and 
 long, fair hair ! She is a born lady ! If the dear lady had not the 
 fair hair, I think I found Molly's high-born Pearl — Master War- 
 ham's Pearl. Little Pearl had high blood, proud blood, blue 
 
 blood." . ^ . 
 
 " I insist, mauma, Zaffiri is a slave I If her owners, or his hens, 
 could find her, she could be carried back to chains again, and sold 
 
550 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 on the auction-block. And more, mauma," holding up her hands 
 with a gesture of horror, "she is a slave by the Constitution — a 
 slave by United States law. All in this house are free, except 
 Zaffiri — except me. No! no ! Antony and Zaffiri are slaves ; but 
 Antony don't know. Keep my secret, mauma ; keep the terrible 
 truth for viy sake, dear mauma."' 
 
 '' Mauma will keep that awful secret with her life," she answered, 
 with awe struck face and a solemn tone ; " but tell me why, dear 
 missis is not free in a free land .'' The North people hold no 
 slaves — they are not slave-master." 
 
 '' You are mistaken, mauma. You cannot read and follow the 
 doings of this nation. Zaffiri can do both. The North people are 
 slave-holders and slave-masters. They catch the slave who 
 escapes from the South, and give him back to chains. The sol- 
 diery and militia of the North, at a warning of insurrection in the 
 South, stand ready to march to the Southerners' aid, and rivet again 
 the bondage of any who have dared to seek liberty. In Washing- 
 ton — in Congress — Northern Democrats play into the hands of 
 the slave-holder ; framing every law, and every public measure 
 according to the slave-master's will. Often, the VVhig party, the 
 only party in which there is the least hope, fling their moral con- 
 victions into the Southern scale. There is no liberty in North 
 America, except in the dominion of the English Queen in Canada, 
 or in Catholic Mexico. The whole United States is under the 
 slave-holder's law." 
 
 This was scarcely intelligible to Zaffiri's listener, but was re- 
 ceived by sorrowful, submissive bowings of the turbaned head, and 
 suppressed groans. 
 
 " Where, in the South, was missis slave ? " at length she asked. 
 
 " What if I tell you, mauma ? " 
 
 " She will keep that, too, with the rest, safe here," pointing to 
 her breast. 
 
 " I was a slave in South Carolina ; a slave in Charleston," 
 slowly repeated Zaffiri, watching the effect of her words. 
 
 The old cripple seized her cane, rose, and stood trembling over it. 
 
 " Then you is Molly's lost Pearl. The beautiful missis is a War- 
 ham. She is Pearl Warham." 
 
 " Mauma forgets her Pearl's red hair," said Zaffiri. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 55 1 
 
 " Oh, missis, true ! true ! true ! Molly's Pearl lost again ! The 
 will of de Lord be done 1 " she breathed with a sigh, and sunk 
 back into her seat. 
 
 " It has ceased raining, mauma," said Zaffiri ; " the sun is just 
 setting ; it breaks through the clouds, and floods the wet city with 
 its glory." 
 
 " 'Tis beautiful, missis ! " 
 
 " Mauma, I expect my husband to-night. He should have 
 arrived this morning, but the South-easter has probably delayed 
 him." 
 
 Cossetina entered. 
 
 " Will mauma go to her room now, dear missis ? The master 
 will come safe ; the arm of the Lord round him." 
 
 "By no means — Cossetina will assist me in dressing as well 
 when you are present ; and I want you here to look at, till I go 
 down to meet company after his arrival. Come in again this even- 
 ing, mauma j my husband will be glad to see you in a corner of 
 his fireside. Let us all get illuminated faces to meet him — happy 
 faces, mauma." 
 
 "True, my blessed child, faces must be happy that think of 
 him." 
 
 "Zaffiri!" pleaded Cossetina," please to we^r the blue velvet 
 to-night ; the pearls and the pale hair, d la Jenny Lind. I can 
 dress it like the sweet singer's. II signore will admire." 
 
 " Bring the velvet and pearls then, Cossetina \ but I fear the 
 treacherous sea." 
 
 Six — seven — eight — nine successively dropped from the sil- 
 ver-tongued mantel clock. 
 
 Zaffiri passed the evening in the parlor, in obedience to the de- 
 mands of polite or social calls. She went to mauma's room, saying 
 to the dear old body, — 
 
 " It is so late, I fear something has happened." 
 
 " Never fear, sweet missis, he will come. The Lord's arm be 
 round him." 
 
 -The prophecy was scarcely uttered, before a dash of wheels 
 paused before the house. The opening and clashing of coach 
 doors, the bouncing of trunks upon the pavement, and the bold 
 ringing of the bell, were welcome music to the household. 
 
552 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Zafflri had determined to receive her husband and guests in her 
 own chamber. It was large, airy, and elegant ; and there was the 
 privacy necessary to the occasion. Antony received his commands 
 from Cossetina, and consequently piloted the party to his lady's 
 room. 
 
 Cossetina was dispatched to the kitchen, to order supper, and 
 to request that the family be left to themselves. After the fond 
 greeting of Mr. Lambelle and his adored wife, Zaffiri gave her 
 eager attention to the gray-haired couple who had accompanied 
 Mr. Lambelle. She embraced both, kissing them tenderly, and 
 gazed upon them with tearfnl eyes, welcoming them both to her 
 heart and home. 
 
 The tea-bell rang immediately ; but before obeying its agreeable 
 summons, Mr. Lambelle took occasion to make a necessary expla- 
 nation to the newly arrived. He said, — 
 
 " At the table we hold conversation upon general subjects. It 
 must not become personal. We are abolitionists in the most ex- 
 treme sense of that word, but under disguise. I am never seen at 
 their public meetings ; and our strongest anti-slavery people never 
 recognize me on the street. It is agreed ; for I play a part which 
 an outspoken abolitionist would not deem it wise to undertake. 
 I travel through the South. I walk into the jaws of death with 
 audacity, for my principles are unknown ; and I bring accurate 
 information of the practices, purposes, and policy of slave- holders, 
 which cannot be reliably obtained in any other manner. For this 
 reason, I held no conversation with you, my dear friends, on the 
 sea voyage to New York. That I may keep this inestimable treas- 
 ure, this lovely Zaffiri, whom you, dear gray-haired father, sent 
 away from that Southern land of horrors at the peril of your own 
 life, I wear a double character. I take the nefarious hand of the 
 slave-holder, while I despise him in my heart. I visit their cotton 
 marts, their slave marts, their houses and plantations; that I may 
 secretly bring to light the wrongs and cruelties of their cherished 
 system of robbery — a system of robbery and murder — the most 
 heinous in the sight of Heaven. 
 
 "Our hous^ is also an unsuspected refuge of the fugitive from 
 oppression. ' This is a secret. My friends, you have been accus- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 553 
 
 tomed to put a lock upon your lips. It will be no new or dfficult 
 task to continue guarded in our parlors, and at our table." 
 
 Then, offering his arm to Mrs. VVeintze, and followed by Zaffiri on 
 the arm of her papa, as she named him, they repaired below, to 
 the supper-room. 
 
 After this refreshment of the weary travelers, by Zaffiri's request 
 they went again to her room. Cossetina withdrew for the night; 
 thus leaving her mistress free to divulge to her husband and friends 
 the strange revelations made by mauma during the day. 
 
 She revealed the mania that had taken possession of dear old 
 mauma's mind, that she (Zaffiri) had been dandled upon her 
 knees ; that she was of aristocratic blue-blood, and was born free ; 
 more — that mauma knew the history of her birth and parentage, 
 and that her baby name was Pearl. 
 
 '• My dear friends," said Zaffiri, " you know that a search in that 
 hostile State for my parentage would be my enslavement estab- 
 lished, and perpetuated. Prompted to learn what I am, and who 
 I am, I sought for convincing proofs of my indentit}'.. The light 
 straw color of my hair is the difficulty to mauma. Little Pearl's 
 hair was red." 
 
 The countenance of Mr. Lambelle evinced his perplexity. 
 
 "I am astounded ! " he said. " Can it be possible that in grant- 
 ing the petition of forlorn old mauma in New Orleans, to buy her, 
 I found the key to the mystery of your birth, my dear Zaffiri ? " 
 
 " There was a black nurse for the baby, that was afterwards sold 
 as the slave-child, ' Phebe,^ " remarked Mr. Weintze. 
 
 "Let mauma come in, Zaffiri," said Mr. Lambelle. " Facts must 
 support theories. Let us untie this Gordian knot if possible. Is 
 she in bed .'' " 
 
 "No, Claude. Mauma is sitting up to be presented to you. I 
 had the intention of presenting her to Papa Weintze, to test the 
 reliability of her memory. I will go for her." 
 
 The stumpins: of the cane, and the laughter of Zaffiri along the 
 halls, were soon heard. Claude met them at the open door. 
 Zaffiri led the old mother to Mr. Weintze, and said, — 
 
 " Tell me, mauma, if you ever saw this gentleman ? " 
 
 " Have you ever known me before ? " echoed the new comer ; 
 " and, if so, where did you know me ? " 
 
554 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Mauma pondered, and looked steadily upon the speaker's face, 
 leaning some time on her staff. At length she replied, — 
 
 " Mauma think she know master in Charleston." 
 
 " By what name.'*" 
 
 "I think, Deiderich Weintze, master. He had grocery store on 
 
 the corner of street. When mau-jna was younger, she trade 
 
 there. My name was ' Molly,' and I nursed a white babe named 
 * Pearl.' When I took her out airing, in her 'broidered dress and 
 her white 'broidered cloak in blue, Master Weintze took her in his 
 arms, caressed her, and toted her in the house to his wife. Does 
 master 'member little Pearl? " 
 
 He avoided an answer by asking how long ago she saw Charles- 
 ton ? 
 
 "Don't count the years, master — long time. I was sold to New 
 Orleans one day — went away in the night — never see Charles- 
 ton, nor little Pearl, no more. Does master 'member little Pearl, 
 and the tiny red curls on her waxen neck? If master 'member, 
 then he is Deiderich Weintze." 
 
 '• Take your arm-chair in the warm corner, dear old mauma," 
 said Claude approvingly, her bent form still leaning on her staff. 
 He took her hand, which trembled in his, and kindly led her to 
 the seat. 
 
 " Old mauma," said the gentleman, " I am Deiderich Weintze, 
 from Charleston. I remember Molly and little Pearl. My grocery 
 was located on the corner of the streets you mention. I can assure 
 you no farther, at present." 
 
 " Our friends are weary, my darling wife," said Mr. Lambelle ; 
 " they have suffered much at sea during the wild storm just passed. 
 Let us do no more to-night, than to settle such preliminaries as 
 shall be necessary, Zaffiri, for a sleeping potion for you." 
 
 " My wife and I could sleep but little ourselves," said Mr. 
 Weintze, with a troubled expression, " If we are not satisfied that 
 the elegant mistress of this fine house can be identified with the 
 slave-girl I sent North years ago. We do not doubt your gener- 
 osity, sir ; but if there should have been a mistake, we might 
 suffer in our old age from dependence upon strangers, who could 
 have no interest in our welfare. We agree with mauma, that the 
 little girl named Pearl, in the one case, and Phebe in the other, the 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 555 
 
 same that I sent North, had rich, red hair, which, in older 3'ears, 
 would have become a reddish auburn. But this lady has hair of 
 a lighter and mor^ peculiar hue than I have ever seen," 
 
 " My friends," continued Mr. Lambelle, " I have a solution for that 
 doubt. That Zaffiri, here, w^s mauma's free Pearl and your slav^e- 
 girl Phebe, I truly believe. When the slave-girl, Phebe, was 
 brougt North, her hair was red. I saw it then, myself ; years after, 
 1 saw it red. I resolved to educate the homeless waif, and sent her 
 to Canada, under the protection of Her Majesty, Queen Victoria, 
 where a!l the advertisements of Southern papers could not harm 
 her. I placed her in a convent school, where every facility was 
 offered for developing the fine faculties inherited by her cultured 
 blood. At the annual visits which I made to look after her happi- 
 ness and progress, I became gradually interested, till her well-being 
 and existence seemed a part of my own ; and the fair, blue-eyed, 
 grcefui girl became a part of my every thought, and every plan. 
 At the age of eighteen, I proposed marriage. Then I discovered 
 what I had so longed to ascertain, that her affections were already 
 mine. I arranged my business, here, to leave the United States, 
 married in Canada, took passage at Halifax for France, with my 
 hunted, beautiful wife. I was haunted with the idea that the 
 slave-catcher would tear her from me in some way. In Paris, I 
 resolved to try some chemical process to change the marked color 
 of her hair. My design was to make it dark, even to blackness. 
 For some reason, unknown to the dyer, in whose skillful hands my 
 idol was placed, her tresses paled into the wonderful shade you 
 now behold. I was more than satisfied with the mistake, for the 
 disguise was complete. My lovely wife,' Violet,' was past recogni- 
 tion by the sleuth hounds of the North or South." 
 
 Mauma lifted both hands in thankful joy, crying, — 
 
 "Bless the Lord ! I has found one child — my beautiful Pearl ! 
 my baby Pearl ! Bless the good God ! old mauma will die in little 
 Pearl's house." ^ , 
 
 "And we have found our dear old mauma, who shall never' 
 suffer more, but shall dwell in the pitying love of both her child- 
 ren," said Mr. Lambelle. ' Turning to the quiet pair on his right, 
 he unfolded the great love he bore them, for the treasure he won 
 from their hands. 
 
556 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " For the noble act of saving Zaffiri from a life of slavery — for 
 the shame, losses and suffering you have endured from the brulal 
 citizens of Charleston, we offer you both a home, a reinstated busi- 
 ness, and the deepest of filial gratitude. Have no fears for the 
 future ; the guardian angel, whose wings you plumed for fliglit, 
 will dispense bright days for your declining years. This house 
 shall be your home through the cold months of winter, A room 
 like ours is prepared for you. You shall go out and in at your 
 pleasure. You shall study the metropolis of New York, and visit 
 its places of amusement and interest, without the fear of a scourge, 
 a whipping-post, or lawless violence. 
 
 "In the spring, if you desire a change, you shall set up your 
 original business — set up your own fireside, around which shall 
 be kept two spare chairs for your children, Zaffiri and myself. 
 Your income will be twenty-five dollars per week, from this day, 
 one year." 
 
 Mr. Weintze interrupted his benefactor with an humble remon- 
 strance against the weekly stipend. 
 
 "We have been very poor and broken down in spirit; a home, 
 with friendship and comfort, will demand all our thanks." 
 
 "The weekly stipend is settled, already — irrevocably settled. 
 During these long winter days and evenings, we will relate to you 
 the particulars of Zaffiri ; how well we remembered the signature 
 of ' Evening Star,' under which she was to write you ; how she 
 learned at St. Louis the fate of her long-deferred letter to you ; 
 how she fainted when she heard from a Charlestonian's own 
 mouth that her kind wishes had ensnared you in the infamy and 
 distress of a public scourging, robbery, and imprisonment. Further- 
 more, I shall have to learn from mauma, how the free-born, blue- 
 blooded Pearl came to be enslaved. I shall have the proofs to 
 consider more carefully. We have our winter's work before us. 
 
 "But, above every other consideration, let us remember that 
 Zaffiri is still a slave by the laws of South Carolina, and these 
 slave-laws hold dominion over the Northern States. One word, 
 carelessly dropped, might rivet the manacles again on these fair 
 wrists, and plunge us all into irredeemable sorrow." 
 
 " We will remember ! trust us for her future as for her past. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 557 
 
 We have been trained in a land of dark and guilty secrets. There, 
 they are in every heart — here, we can and will guard one f' 
 
 " Mauma knows her dear missis born free. They shall never 
 tell mauma her missis is slave ! " said the old woman, quietly dry- 
 ing the tears from her wrinkled cheeks. 
 
 The weary travelers retired to rest with life's burthens lightened. 
 Zaffiri walked the hall slowly, by mauma's tottering steps, and 
 returned the care of her baby love, by attending aflectionately upon 
 the old slave at her night toilet, and sealing her task with a duti- 
 ful kiss. 
 
 The winter passed swiftly amid these new friendships, and reve- 
 lations of a dark past. From out these tangled lives there were 
 drawn these well-proven facts. Zaffiri was '* Violet," the convent 
 maiden. "' Phebe" was the white slave; and "Pearl/' the blue- 
 blooded cherub of mauma's memory. After the abduction to New 
 Orleans, of ^Molly and her five children, little Pearl was brought 
 with a pale, yellow girl, to the yard of a Southern family near to a 
 store kept by a friend of Deiderich Weintze, in another part of the 
 city of Charleston. Both the yellow girl and the white child had 
 been bought from the auction-table in that city — the .slave-girl 
 calling tlie- child her own, under the name of ''Phebe.'' Mr. 
 Weint'ze, in his frequent visits to his German friend, recognized 
 the child, and, by much persuasion and promises of secresy, had 
 drawn from the pretented mother the truth that the child was 
 placed with her by the auctioneer, and that she was told to call it 
 her own, under penalty of heavy punishment. 
 
 Mr. Weintze resolved to send her North at a favorable opportu- 
 nitv, and accomplished his purpose. 
 
 The most astonishing fact of all, was, that Madame Lambelle's 
 admiring attendant at the soiree, in the grand salons of General 
 Terrecetne in St. Louis, was Zaffiri's bc^ther, in the person of Rev. 
 Fred Warham, 
 
55^ WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 SEVERAL years have passed since the mobbing of the young 
 theological student, Richard Beame, at Cloudspire, and since 
 the radical revolution in sentiment of the Buddingtons, Mr. Link, 
 and the Clarendons. 
 
 To this trio of influential and well-to-do families, has been added 
 two other names from the registered list of church membership 
 Mr. Newland and Mr. St. Albans had made calls of friendship and 
 inquiry upon Squire Buddington and the doctor. The result was 
 a conviction of tbe claims of humanity upon themselves, and a con- 
 version to the principles of true righteousness, as they termed the 
 radical doctrine. 
 
 These men were small farmers, living frugally but comfortabh', 
 possessing staunch oaken wills anchored in the faith of universal 
 liberty. Their two small, white homes nestled in a valley of green 
 meadows, like two eggs in a ground bird's nest. 
 
 Mutual strength was afforded these two families, by daily con- 
 verse and pleasant interchange of thought; the pliable young 
 minds growing up in their nurture, were trained to an unflinching 
 love of truth and right. 
 
 There, every week, went God's messenger — Garrison's Liberator; 
 first, well read, and then loaned by George Buddington. Thither, 
 on many a winter's evening, wound the sleighs and bells of the 
 other sturdy martyrs of Cloudspire religion. To the green valley 
 of a summer day after haying, wended the carriage and span of 
 Mr. Buddington, followed closely by the fast bay and wagon, carry- 
 ing the whole household. iThen arrived the doctor's horse, whin- 
 nying in a wise-acre air after the others, he knew were already in 
 the barn. Frequently the parties were joined by Mr. Link, Friend 
 Ste:rling worth, and Fanny. 
 
 Thus had this strange leaven of fanaticism leavened a part of 
 the dead Cloudspire lump. 
 
 On the day of which we now give a record, Mrs. Beame in her 
 kitchen, was selecting beans for the garden planting. Fanny re- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 559 
 
 turned from the post-office, held up her palms to her mother, with 
 the one word " Empty ! '' 
 
 "No letter from Richard?" questioned her mother, sifting the 
 beans through her fingers, unconsciously. 
 
 " No, mother. I saw the mail distributed." 
 
 "Richard must be sick," was the first maternal su2:o:estion. 
 "Richard never fails to write." 
 
 " Nay, mother, there are other causes as imperative as sickness. 
 Only a mother's heart suggests sickness. Richard has a hardy 
 constitution and he takes good care of it. I feel an intimation, 
 an impression, or an inner voice, saying he has a work to do yet 
 for languishing Liberty and Right." 
 
 " Richard is in the church, Fanny. He is settled after the most 
 approved ecclesiastical form. He is a member of the association. 
 You forget that he cannot step beyond its bounds. You forget, 
 Fanny, that the church has put its hand upon its mouth, to preserve 
 that wicked silence which has been thrust upon its utterances, by 
 the Southern oligarchy — an oligarchy in religion, as well as in 
 politics. I wish, Fanny, that Richard and yourself could see the 
 church, as I see it — a manufactured system formed from the 
 ruins of past ages, tinkered anew in later times by unskillful hands, 
 and daubed with untempered moitar. 
 
 "Even the character of God himself has been cast in a human 
 mould and set up like a Chinese idol for unreflecting worship. To 
 this God of their own making they attribute all and each of the 
 evil passions of men — of men, too, whom in the next breath they 
 declare hereditarily corrupt from the crown of the head to the soles 
 of the feet ! I should prefer to see my children iconoclasts, break- 
 ing down with their strong arms and determined purpose this false 
 image of our Lord, and the meaningless worship attendant upon 
 it." 
 
 " Mother, I know the church is wrong in many respects ; but, 
 neither Richard nor I can utterly condemn it. Faith is the me- 
 dium through which Christ our Savior communicates with erring 
 man by the ordained priesthood ; as such, we must regard them as 
 the designed instruments of good." 
 
 "A false proposition, and, of course, a false conclusion. The 
 church is not the medium of our Savior's love or commands ; take 
 
560 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 your New Testament, Fanny, and show me where, in one single 
 instance, the church obeys His example or commands. I must go 
 out to the garden now, but at your leisure, examine His life, and 
 tell me where the two coincide." 
 
 Fanny went to her flower-garden where she remained thrcugli 
 the day ; she turned the fresh earth with a spade and hoe, prepar- 
 ing it for seed and transplanting. She labored on till the sun hung 
 near the western horizon amid the pomp of his gorgeous setting ; 
 then, Fanny, true to her love of Nature, leaned upon her spade and 
 was lost in the magnificent spectacle. She heeded not approach- 
 ing footsteps, till a cheery voice cried, — 
 
 " Hail ! my transfigured sister ! who loves the sunset glory better 
 than her brother Richard ? " 
 
 She turned with the old affectionate smile, offering no Vvelcome, 
 but a surprised, — 
 
 " Why, Richard ! " 
 
 "Give me thy hand, thou prospective Quakeress ! " 
 
 " I'll give thee my lips, instead ; not this earth stained hand." 
 
 "YesL yes! I'll kiss that pretty nest of 'thee's ' and ' thou's," 
 whence these Quaker fledglings fly out so sweetly. Now that I 
 find you well, how is your other self, Friend Sterlingworth ? " 
 
 "Well, and coming here next week; but what brought you home 
 so unexpectedly.?" 
 
 " Come in, Fanny, and when we sit down for the evening, I will 
 answer mother's question and thine. Hear.? — at the same time. 
 Let me carry your farming tools." 
 
 The " tea things " were got out of the way in " short metre," the 
 lamps were lighted early in ^Irs. Beame's sitting-room. Richard 
 entered from his river walk, saying, — 
 
 "I have been meeting my boyhood's friends — the steep path, 
 the hemlocks and mossy braes, the pebbly shore and the rippling 
 river. My friendship for them is unchangeable. Alderbank, 
 humble as it is, will ever be the most charming spot of earth to 
 me." 
 
 "Then the turmoil and struggle of life v.'ill hold in reserve one 
 restful, happy resort for your fretted spirit, my son. Nature is true 
 to her lovers ; she has a hidden balm for us all. We are ready, 
 Richard, for any development you choose to make about your 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 561 
 
 return home. You have brought trunks and books — an ominous 
 move, I think." 
 
 " The laconic reply to the subject is, ' I'm afloat ! ' The logical 
 modification is, ' I am dismissed from my congregation. I am ex- 
 communicated from the association, — all for my shocking heresies 
 to the Pentateuch, and for my traitorous utterances against my 
 country's laws," 
 
 '•Richard ! are you really dismissed from Bigotboro ? This is a 
 second dismissal I " 
 
 "That wound under that black patch on my forehead, there, is 
 my certificate of honorable dismissal; mother — your anxiety is 
 now relieved,"' 
 
 "The wounds of the martyr are more to be desired than subser- 
 viency to false doctrine," replied Mrs. Beame. " Let us hear the 
 particulars." 
 
 " Here they are : Bigotboro is a large township containing sev- 
 eral corner school-houses, in which I have expounded our moral 
 and religious obligations from week to week. Assumins: the love 
 of Christ to be universal, extending to all classes and races. I 
 called attention to the conditions of our own nation, to its infidel- 
 ity on this point ; also, to the fact that God the Father is no re- 
 specter of persons. In support of these assertions I laid bare the 
 blood-curdling cruelty of the system of slavery. I showed them its 
 tortures ; its thumb-screws, its whips, and chains. I took up In- 
 temperance and exhibited its debasing power in causing man to 
 become an inferior to the brute creation. You know I have been 
 settled in that town over a year. 
 
 "Last week I held a meeting at ' Hickory Corner ' school-house. 
 I remarked a full attendance, quite unusual. After prayer, I took 
 for my text, the ' Golden Rule ' and went on to enlarge upon the 
 word ' others,' givino: it a more extended siofnification than is 
 contained in the narrow limits of the ordinary church member. 
 Suddenly I was confronted by the uproarious taunts, accusations 
 and insults of the hearers. The lights were put out as if by one 
 breath. Eggs and other missiles were hurled at my standing place 
 with mobbish violence ; a piece of brick or rock struck my head 
 there, and I fell insensible." When sense returned, I was alone 
 upon the floor. The moon, just sinking in the west, poured in at 
 
562 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 the window and showed the time to be about one o'clock. I knew 
 the time of its setting. The open air revived me. My horse 
 stood where I tied him, and neighed impatiently at the sound of 
 my footstep. I bound my head with a handkerchief and at- 
 tempted to mount. The saddle slid off at my feet ; the girths had 
 been cut. I threw the useless thing one side, and sprang on the 
 animals back. It was a three mile ride, and every step of my 
 walking horse sent a throbbing pain through my head." 
 
 " Were you not prostrated in bed by pain and the nervous 
 shock?" eagerly enquired his mother. 
 
 " I was prostrate two days ; the family in which I boarded at- 
 tended to my needs, but with that cold indifference that would 
 freeze one. I knew this treatment to be only another phase of the 
 mobocratic spirit of the school-house, and valued it at its worth. 
 Last Saturday, a committee of the influential men brought me in- 
 formation that the church would dispense with my services. That 
 the towai must hear the gospel preached, woX. politics y 
 
 " As I imagined, my son ! You cannot preach the Gospel of 
 Christ in its purity, in many churches in our land. You have 
 made two efforts that should be satisfactory. You have been set- 
 tled twice and dismissed twice." 
 
 "When was your connection with the association broken?" 
 asked Fanny. 
 
 ** The association sent my letter of dismissal about a month 
 ago, giving me the opportunity to decide whether I would return to 
 the old beaten path of theology, and repress agitation upon the 
 dangerous heresies I had adopted. I wrote immediately, that I 
 had given four years to pure theological studies, and that I de- 
 manded a hearing before the ' Association.' They refused to grant 
 me a hearing. This refusal was contrary to their own rules. 
 Consequently, I informed them that I refused suspension or expul- 
 sion. There the matter stands." 
 
 "Richard, you are afloat, indeed !" ejaculated Fanny, showing 
 a tender fear for her brother's welfare in every feature. 
 
 " Put away fear, my daughter ! ' Afloat ' is the proper word for 
 a reformer. A ship that never cuts loose from her moorings will 
 rot in muddy waters at her cables length from shore. She might 
 as well be dismantled of her sails and rigging, and dismasted." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 563 
 
 " Mother, do you recollect Ralph Waldo Emerson's ' Damascus 
 blade?' I read it to you, when I was home last, said Richard. 
 
 " I recollect it well. The ^Damascus blade' such as you search 
 through nature in vain to pare/let, laid up on the shelf in some village, 
 to rust and ruin. You, my son, have quick and powerful percep- 
 tions of right and wrong. Being free now, give them untrammeled 
 play, and do not lay yourself away on a shelf in this village of 
 Alderbank, to ' rust and ruin.' 
 
 " Be, Richard, like Emerson's ' bolder spirit, a more surren- 
 dered soul, more informed and led by God, which is much in 
 advance of the rest, quite beyond their sympathy, but predicts 
 what shall soon be the general fulness.' Like John the Baptist, 
 lift up your voice in the wilderness, among the mountains, in the 
 lanes and by-places, and herald the dawning of liberty. In the 
 continued words of Emerson, ' as when we stand by the sea-shore, 
 whilst the tide is coming in, a wave comes up the beach far higher 
 than any foregoing one, and recedes, and for a long time none 
 comes up to that mark ; but after some time, the whole is there 
 and beyond it.' Richard, be a pioneer of the advance guard for 
 Reform and universal Freedom ! so the world will finally fall in 
 and rise to your level, like Emerson's tide." 
 
 *' You have met me on the way, mother. You have met your 
 son fleeing from violence and outrage on the way, mother, with 
 your blessing. Had I been disheartned, I should now feel my 
 strength renewed for the race set before me. Mother, I have 
 already decided upon the self-same course you advise. I have 
 consulted with anti-slavery friends. The conclusion is that I 
 enter the lecture field and depend for subsistence on the same 
 Providence that feeds the birds of the air." 
 
 " Where shall you go, Richard ? " asked Fanny, in an anxious 
 voice. 
 
 " I shall go to Ohio, in company with others. The black laws 
 of that State, enacted with remonstrance of church or clergy, need 
 to have gospel light turned in full blaze upon them." 
 
 " What are they, Richard 1 " inquired Fanny. 
 
 " They are an exposition of the worst elements of human nature. 
 First, every negro that enters the State is required to give two 
 freehold securities of five hundred dollars for his, or her good be- 
 
564 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 havior, and his or her support in case he becomes a pauper. 
 Notice the inconsistency. The next step was to make them 
 paupers, by forbidding persons from hiring or employing them ; 
 also, anyone who harbors or conceals them shall be fined one 
 hundred dollars. Thus -driven from pillar to post, perhaps in spite 
 of these disabilities, the colored citizen succeeds in staying within 
 the State, and securing comfortable homes ; they, in that case, are 
 liable to become the victims of fraudulent dealings, for they cannot 
 give ' their evidence in court, on any subject in which a white man 
 is involved.' There are several thousand in Ohio ; but, as a class, 
 they are debased and ignorant. Instead of seeking to gain free- 
 holds, and depending upon farming for subsistence, they congregate 
 in towns, and become day-laborers, barbers and menial servants." 
 
 " And I have no doubt," said Mrs. Beame, " that the mocking 
 assertion of Freedom and Equality is inscribed on the head and 
 front of Ohio's State Constitution." 
 
 "Tiue, mother; it declares that all are born free and inde- 
 pendent, and have certain natural and inalienable rights, and then 
 by its appended laws, Ohio strips her colored citizens of all these 
 rights, forbids him employment, and then sets up a derisive howl 
 over his indolence. Ohio leaves rags for their clothing, and then 
 points the finger of shame at their nakedness. Ohio excludes col- 
 ored children from her public schools — debars them from every 
 mechanical pursuit ; then, in lugubrious, hypocritical tones, laments 
 the fiatural^ clannish degradatioJi of the colored race, and strives by 
 statute and violence to drive out the pestiferous fugitives from 
 their soil." 
 
 "Richard, how many are there in Ohio ? " asked Fanny. 
 
 " A few years ago there were about eight thousand." 
 
 " Why do they not leave Ohio ? " 
 
 *' Because, my dear sister, its about six to one place, and half-a- 
 dozen to the other in any part of our eagle-ized United States. If 
 they venture to change location, and to travel on foot, like our 
 Savior, and as they are necessitated to do, they would have to run 
 the gauntlet of hissing, starvation and vagrancy. Yet, a body of 
 colored men did apply to the Governor of Canada for a place of 
 refuge. ]\Iark his beautiful reply. Drop his answer into your sack 
 of smooth stones for the forhead of our Goliath. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 565 
 
 "' Tell the Republicans,* said the governor, 'on your side of the 
 line, that we Royalists do not know men by their color. Should you 
 come to us, you will be entitled to all the privileges of the rest of 
 Her Majesty's subjects.' 
 
 " They did go out from under our Republican Government to a 
 Monarchy for protection." 
 
 " All hail Victoria ! the beneficent Queen of England ! " said 
 Fanny, in a voice husky with emotion. 
 
 "The immediate cause of their effort at removal, was a three- 
 days mobbing of the colored people of Cincinnati. The trustees 
 of the townships issued a proclamation, that any colored man who 
 did not fulfil the requirements of the law, should leave the city. 
 But as that was simply impossible, only a small portion could or 
 did leave. The mob attempted to expel them by force ; and for 
 three days' riot ran wild in the city. The colored people appeal- 
 ing^ in vain to the authorities, barricaded their houses, and thus 
 alone the fury of the mob was resisted. 
 
 " So you see, my dear sister, Ohio needs light ; that ineffable 
 Gospel light, which searches the consciences and hearts of men 
 who darkly substitute evil for good, who grope madly among the 
 stumbling-blocks their own hands have planted." 
 
 •' The Church of Christ must be cleansed of this sin, through its 
 own inherent tendency to purification," said Fanny. " I have not 
 lost faith in its rectification. Do not, Richard, lay all the censure 
 on the churches. You and I can live up to our own professions, if 
 others fail." 
 
 " No, my sister, these dumb churches have not the spirit of 
 Christ in any particular. They hold none of the Savior's love, 
 therefore there is no inherent tendency to purification. The 
 clergy, through the length and breadth of the land, are blind 
 leaders of the blind. They fail to discern the truth, themselves ; 
 consequentl}^ they fail to educate the people up to the fundamental 
 truths, which are as old as the foundations of the world." 
 
 He took from his valise a pamphlet, and placed it in Fanny's 
 hands. 
 
 " There, my recluse, is a book for your perusal. It was written 
 by an acquaintance whose name you will learn on the fly leaf. He 
 has been beaten about by mobs for many months, but with a brave 
 
566 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 soul. He says there, on the second page, * he values the lawless 
 violence with which they have broken up a majority of the meet- 
 ings which he has attended as a proof of the profound regard for 
 the truth and power of what he says.' " 
 
 Fanny read aloud from the cover, — 
 
 '"A Brotherhood of Thieves.' That sounds like the 'Ara- 
 bian Knights.' Who are they?" 
 
 " * The Brotherhood of Thieves ' represents the clergy of our 
 country; but you had a bright thought, Fanny. The 'fatal spell,' 
 and the ' sorcery ' of a designing priesthood, ov^er the people, come 
 nearer to the conjuring and magic of the ' Arabian Nights,' more 
 than anything I know. Read the book, Fanny, and read it to 
 mother. It is destined to set public sentiment in a ferment, — a 
 chemical action much needed in these times. Lay it away, now, 
 please ; let us give this evening to conversation." 
 
 " Do you know, mother, that only one thing troubles me in this 
 general breaking up ? It is the thought of Lucy. You know we 
 were to have been married this spring. I had a home to offer her 
 in prospect. Now, with empty purse and with staff and sandals, I 
 am to become a wanderer. How will she meet this reverse .? My 
 marriage must be postponed." 
 
 " She may meet you, my son, as you say I have done, on your 
 way, with her love and blessing. Go and see, Richard, to-morrow. 
 Lucy is not a butterfly, to perch upon the fairest rose, on the 
 topmost spray, to be blown away at the first breeze. Her love and 
 trust have been refined in the furnace till it is pure gold. I am 
 sure, my son, she is wholly yours, come weal, come woe." 
 
 " Mother, she is dearer to me than aught else ; yet, nothing 
 must come between me and this life-work." 
 • " Right, Richard ! If needs be, your one single affection must 
 be sacrificed for the healing of millions of trampled hearts, crushed 
 hopes, blasted joys, and outraged homes." 
 
 "If all men had such mothers as mine. Tyranny and Injustice 
 would soon slink away with impotent step." 
 
 On the morrow, Richard drove away from home, wearing a 
 troubled and apprehensive countenance. 
 
 " Wish me joy, mother and Fanny," he said to them, standing 
 upon the steps. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 567 
 
 •* Thei-e is no need, Richard. It will fall about your path like 
 manna in the desert." 
 
 After the evening lamps were lighted, Richard returned. As he 
 entered the little parlor, Fanny caught his hands. 
 
 " Ah ! brave reformer, I see all is well. I read it in your radiant 
 face." 
 
 '• True, Fanny ; you are an oracle. All is well." 
 
 "Tell us all about it." 
 
 " Lucy is not surprised. She and her father, the doctor, approved 
 of my decision. Neither would hear of my poverty. He said, ' I 
 sold my Lucy, once, to Southern ruffianism and debauchery. She 
 brought back the price with her. Take it, both of you ; it can be 
 turned to no better account than undoing \\i'3i\. act.' Dr. Clarendon 
 will not listen to postponement of our marriage." 
 
 " The doctor has changed much since his daughter's return from 
 South Carolina," said Mrs. Beame. 
 
 " Hear, further, the result of this day's visit. Lucy, herself, insists 
 upon accompanying me to Ohio, and spending the season. She 
 will address small audiences of women at every opportunity, and 
 repeat the story of the wrongs of colored women, as she herself has 
 witnessed, in the South. She will take upon herself the distribu- 
 tion and sale of the publications of the Anti-Slavery Society, and 
 thus sow seed by the wayside." 
 
 " In Lucy, you will find companionship of spirit. As a wife, she 
 will be your shield in the hour of trial ; she will be your strength 
 in intervals of rest. I can ask no better gift from Providence than 
 such a daughter," said Mrs. Beame. 
 
 " I am under many obligations to you for giving me such a 
 sister, Richard. Lucy will be a tower of strength to us all, for no 
 one can gainsay her experiences of Southern heartlessness and 
 
 cruelty." 
 
 " Then, 7na belle religieuse, you grant that the motives actuating 
 her course in reform must be substantially based on reason instead 
 of untrained impulses?" 
 
 " Of course, Richard." 
 
 " Then read that, and go and do likewise," at the same time 
 handing her a paper roll. 
 
568 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Fanny opened it, and read aloud to her mother. 
 
 TEETOTAL ANTI-SLAVERY PLEDGE. 
 
 Believing slave-holding, under all circumstances, to be a heinous sin and 
 crime, and deeply convinced of the wickedness of aiding or abetting, by our 
 countenance or otherwise, any who are concerned in it, we, the undersigned, do 
 agree never to vote for any candidate for civil office, nor countenance any man 
 as a Christian minister, nor hold connection with any organization as a Christian 
 church, except such as have dissolved their political and ecclesiastical coimcc- 
 tion with the slave system, and are practically pledged to labor with us for its 
 immediate and entire extinction from our country. Nor will we aid in returning 
 fugitives from shivery, nor do any act to prevent slaves from regaining their lib- 
 erty, by such means as they may tMnk proper to adopt. 
 
 Richard Beame, 
 
 Lucy Clarendon Steele. 
 
 "What do you think of that, mother," asked Richard. 
 
 " I think it is a pledge to which every person who professes love 
 to God and man, subscribe. Do you want my name ? " 
 
 " Yes, mother, just below Lucy's; more, I want Fanny's name 
 beneath yours ; then I will frame it and hang it in this room, as 
 our confession of faith." 
 
 "Richard, I cannot place my name on that paper yet; I cannot 
 withdraw from the church of my Redeemer. 'With all its faults, I 
 love it still,' and will never cease, by word and example, to remon- 
 strate airainst its errors." 
 
 " It does appear to me, Fanny, that your reverence for the church, 
 as it is, if given its true name, would read '■obstinacy.^ However, I 
 leave a line for your signature below mother's, and will leave * The 
 Brotherhood of Thieves ' for your perusal. Before my departure, I 
 will hang the Pledge in this room." 
 
 " Richard, you look displeased. Let me change the subject to a 
 pleasanter one. What time is appointed for your marriage t " 
 
 "Two weeks from next Sabbath. The following day, Monday, 
 we start for Ohio. There will be no foolish display of dress on the 
 occasion. Lucy will be wedded in her traveling dress, which will 
 be made for the journey. Next week she will spend one day 
 home ; you and mother are to spend one day there, before I go." 
 
 Two houses in Cloudspire had two weeks of busy occupation. 
 
 "Lucy, my brave girl," said Doctor Clarendon, "going the 
 second lime to leave father and mother? Well, I don't hold to 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 569 
 
 rustin_2: out, in this world. You learned your part in the South ; 
 now, with a husband to whom you can give your love and respect 
 without reservation, go and repeat that lesson over and over ; teach 
 dull ears and gospel-hardened hearts. Here in my house will be 
 a resting-place for you both, whenever you may choose an interval 
 from your labors, while I live. Sit down by your old father, a 
 minute ; he has something for your ears. Now, mother and I have 
 settled it, that all Anti-slavery friends in this town shall be here 
 on your wedding-day, Sunday, and I've been round with invita- 
 tions. You'll have nothing to do about the cake and other prepa- 
 rations. Binah says her dear young missis must not lift a finger 
 'bout the work. So, go on with your own fixings that. Heaven 
 knows, are plain enough. Do you persist in not having a wedding 
 dress ? " 
 
 "Yes, father, I persist. Life seems to me real and earnest, 
 now, and too short for the w^ork we should have to do, without 
 dressing ourselves as puppets for a show. I\Iy stone-colored trav- 
 eling dress is well on the way of its making ; if I am excused from 
 the kitchen, I shall have plenty of time." 
 
 " Has Richard engaged his wedding-suit, yet .'' " 
 
 " No, father, for he will not have one ; and, father, I approve of 
 his judgment. He had a hard struggle to go through his four 
 years' theological course; he was settled on a small salary and has 
 been dismissed twice. What little funds he has, he will reserve 
 for traveling expenses. My dear father, our friends are beautiful 
 in our own sight, when they are clothed in the habiliments of our 
 own devoted reverence and affection. Thus, Richard is ever beau- 
 tiful." 
 
 The old doctor wound a longer horn than usual, in the red ban- 
 dana, and said, — 
 
 " Lucy, let me tell you, he will have martyrdom enough hereafter 
 without beginning on his wedding day. Richard is to have a new 
 suit for that occasion, frorn the generous purse of ]\Ir. Link. He 
 takes Richard to-day to East Elms for that purpose. His old 
 student trunk is pretty well battered, too, Buddington says, and his 
 offering will be as good a travelling trunk as money will buy. 
 Issy says he must give him something. His white father down 
 there, in Charleston, remits him so much money, that he will give 
 
57© WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Richard u. new watch. Lucy I've s^en it ; its a splendid time- 
 keeper. Filette will weave the chain. Newland and St. Albans, 
 over there in the green valley, insist upon giving, and their wives 
 insist upon making one dozen new shirts for Richard. I expect 
 theyVe half done now." 
 
 '• Richard will be surprised and will feel their kindness deeply. 
 This work is blessed in the beginning," answered Lucy. 
 
 The doctor rose, flourished the bandana' with increased zest, 
 and after brushing away something that seemed to obscure his 
 sight, made one emphatic gesture with his foretinger before Lucy's 
 face. 
 
 " Don't you dare to think that all these people here give Rich- 
 ard Beame more than the doctor. Don't dare to think that their 
 gifts come any nearer to mine, than a grain of sand comes to a 
 mountain. / have given that poor student the apple of my eye. 
 I have given him the light of two lives, — your mother's and mine. 
 I have given to him the sweetest of all our earthly joys, the fra- 
 grant blossom of Cloudspire ! my lily of the valley ! my rose of 
 Sharon ! my noble and inimitable Lucy! " 
 
 The doctor caught her to his breast, kissing her tenderly. Un- 
 folding his arms, he said, — 
 
 " There, don't say another word ; don't speak of this again. 
 You work on your dress, and I'll give you the right kind of a good- 
 bye, when the time comes." 
 
 The quiet that succeeded Richard's marriage and departure was 
 soon broken by a call upon the ministries of Mrs. Beame and 
 Fanny. Willie Hughes came up from Susan's cabin by the river, 
 bringing news of the continued illness of his mother. 
 
 " Is her cough no better, Willie .'' ' 
 
 "No ma'am, mother coughs worse ; she didn't sleep but little 
 last night." 
 
 *' Has Docror Clarendon been to see her within a few days ? " 
 
 "Yes, ma'am, he came yesterday and left some medicine. He 
 told mother to send for Mrs. Beame and Fanny." 
 
 '' Poor child, we will go down after dinner '' said Mrs. Beam.e. 
 " Stay and eat with us, my child, and we will walk back by the 
 river with you. What does your mother want to eat ? do you hear 
 her say what she would like ? " 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 571 
 
 " No, ma'am, not very much." Then, with a child's after-thought, 
 " I heard her say she wanted some broth." 
 
 "Look here. Fanny," said Mrs. Beame, " I will kiU^ a chicken. 
 You get the hot water ready. I can dress it in a short tmie, and 
 boil it while cooking dinner. Get out a tumbler of currant jelly, 
 a slice of butter, and a loaf of white bread, Fanny ; also a dish for 
 the chicken and soup. Have all ready. I fear^ we have neglected 
 Susan, in the preparation for Richards journey." 
 
 After dinner, the three took a pleasant stroll down by the violet- 
 crowned banks of the river shore to Susan's cabin. Addie ran to 
 meet them, her hands full of white shad blossoms. 
 
 "Oh, Mrs. Beame and Fanny! ma wants to see you so much ; 
 she told me to meet Willie, aud go over to the^farm for some milk, 
 when you are here, so she need not stay alone." 
 
 The children went on up the hill green with tender grass 
 Susan's room was neat and comfortable, from the previous care of 
 her present visitors. Her own bed was supplied with pillows and 
 sheets, while a pretty patchwork quilt gave a bright air to the dull 
 
 and scanty furniture. . r i i . 
 
 " Dear Fanny, I can't sit up now," spoke Susan in a feeble tone, 
 holding a hand of each. Fve sent the children away,^for I want 
 to tall^with you both; I havn't long to stay now, and—" 
 
 " Lie quiet, Susan : do not talk till you have taken some nour- 
 ishment. It will give you strength," said Mrs. Beame, in a moth- 
 erly manner. "Fanny, run out doors and gather a few chips and 
 sticks for a little fire, to warm the soup." ^^ 
 
 " Yes, mother, 'twill be done very soon." _ 
 
 She first went to the bed, brushed away the dark hair and kissed 
 
 the thin cheek, saying,— ^ „ , ,mi • i f 
 
 "We will have plenty of time, Susan; we shall stay till night. 
 
 Now for the fire." . , 
 
 Meantime, ^Irs. Beame got the sufferer into an arm-chair, 
 brought by Doctor Clarendon, and made the bed afresh. 
 
 " Don't fret, Susie," cried Fanny. " I know where all the dishes 
 are • you know Fm at home, here." 
 
 " I know it, dear girl. Do as you please ; only it pains me to 
 see vou waiting on me, so much." 
 
 "Whom else have we to look after, but you, Susan ? said Mrs. 
 
572 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Beame. Other sick ones have houses, lands, and friends, and 
 money. You, poor dear, have neither. Do not worry — we must 
 do this, not only because we love you, but because Jesus the Christ 
 is looking to see if we love him, too. There, don't have another 
 care about it. Take some soup and this chicken breast. Fanny, 
 bring the toast and the jelly." 
 
 "This is so refreshing," said Susie. *' I can't cook, and I've 
 been sick so long, there is very little to cook. I wish Henry could 
 see this room, this afternoon." 
 
 " Perhaps he knows it all, and sees us from the home above. 
 Let us hope so, Susie. It might make even Heaven happier. 
 There ! I'm always saying too much," lamented Fanny, as she 
 took her own handkerchief and held it to Susan's wet eyes. 
 " There, there, eat a bit of toast and jelly. Look here, I've brougt 
 you something in this basket — a piece of Richard and Lucy's 
 w^edding-cake. We had a splendid wedding — all your good 
 friends were there, Susie." 
 
 '' Have they gone ? " 
 
 " Yes, Susie, hundreds of miles away ; but they are equally 
 yoked in the Lord's service, and will be happy in their mission aiy 
 labor." 
 
 After an exhaustive attack of cougliing, Susie took up the for- 
 mer thread of conversation. 
 
 " I suppose their labor is all for we colored ones, to try to make 
 people remember we are human, and to lift us from the earth 
 where we have lain so long, bruised and mangled by the pioud 
 feet of the white race. Who would think Christians should need 
 missionaries .'' " 
 
 " All people need missionaries, who do not know the true God. 
 And I call Ohio pagan in humanity. You look fatigued, Susie. 
 Will you try the bed again ? " 
 
 *• I think so. I cai\ talk with less effort there." 
 
 Mrs. Beame propped up the invalid with pillows, bathed her 
 temples with camphor, and, with Fanny, drew chairs to the bedside. 
 
 '* Now, Susie, we are ready to listen to anything you may have 
 to say." 
 
 After some delay, in which she seemed striving to repress feel- 
 ing and arrange thoughts, she said, — 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 573 
 
 " Doctor Clarendon was here, yesterday, and I am sure by his 
 manner and expression I shall not live long. The colds I took 
 last winter, ripened into consumption. You see I have grown 
 weaker, till I am helpless upon this bed. My only anxiety is for 
 my children." She wiped away the tears with Fanny's handker- 
 chief, kindly laid before her. " You know how hard it is for col- 
 ored grown men and women, even, to get bread to support life, and 
 to get respectable clothing. What will become of my helpless, 
 despised children, when they cannot have even my feeble protec- 
 tion, when I am in my grave ? Who will give them bread ? Who 
 will cover their feet from the winter snow? Who will drop a kind 
 word into their frightened and aching hearts ? " 
 
 A burst of sobbing tilled the little room, and rose above the 
 plash of the river and the shiver of the young spring leaves, that 
 came in at the open door. 
 
 " I do so want to look upon my Henry's face once more on this 
 earth. Last night, I listened for his step as it used to come up to 
 the door. Sometimes I thought I heard it, but he didn't come. 
 Henry must be dead ; by sickness, or by the dreadful sea." 
 
 " I fear so," said Mrs. Beame. " You have never heard from 
 him since that letter Fanny read to you, so long ago, that summer 
 afternoon." 
 
 " At the time he sent you twenty-five dollars, Susie," said 
 Fanny. 
 
 " That is the time, Fanny. All these long years I have not 
 heard a word or breath from my poor, hunted husband. He has 
 never forgot me though ; his heart was too true. Henry Hughes is 
 dead ! away from his children and his home ! " 
 
 Pointing with her thin finger to a box on the shelf, she begged 
 Fanny to take the precious letter from it and read it to her again. 
 All through its reading the response to its brave and loving lines 
 were heart-breaking, sobbing grief. 
 
 ''There, dear Susie, this is too much for you ; rest now and hear 
 what we may offer to comfort you. Doubtless, some calamity has 
 overtaken your husband. He has never deserted you ; there is 
 balm in that. His voyages to the tropics were dangerous. He 
 may be waiting for you beyond all earthly trials. Let us hope for 
 the best, Susie. • * 
 
574 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " Susie, I have a plan for your dear children. In the first place, 
 you may recover. If so, all will be well ; yet your disease is 
 treacherous, and in case your children should be left homeless, I 
 will take Addie into my protection. She shall grow up in our 
 house as Fanny has done, if my offer is satisfactory to you." 
 
 Susie caught Mrs. Beame's hand in gratitude, and thanked God 
 that her young lamb would be folded by an arm as gentle as her own. 
 
 *' With all my heart, I give her to you. You will do more for 
 her than is in my power. I could die in peace if, also, my high- 
 spirited Willie could be saved from the hard fate of his father. If 
 he could be taught his books, and taught to respect himself and 
 others ; taught to be industrious, patient and saving." Susie 
 brought her trembling hands together, and with closed eyes, as if 
 in petition, groaned audibly. "Oh ! if some kind roof could shel- 
 ter him from the cruel curses that follow his color ; that he misht 
 not become hardened and d esperate by that treatment." 
 
 " Hush this grieving, Susie," a voice whispered in her ear, and 
 a cheek touched hers. It was Fanny. " Do not yield to this sor- 
 row. I believe I know who will shelter Willie under just the 
 kind roof you crave. Do you know Mr. Link, the rich drover ? " 
 
 " I have heard of him." 
 
 "Mr. Link," continued Susan's comforter, ''is rich, and he is an 
 abolitionist. He has the kindest feelings for the suffering and 
 destitute. He is the one that waited for us in the snow, when 
 Richard was mobbed at the church, and carried us home in his 
 sleigh." 
 
 Susan grew calmer. 
 
 " I think he will take Willie right home ; and if he don't keep 
 him till he is grown, he will keep him till we can find a good home 
 for him." 
 
 Fanny's cheek still touched Susie's. 
 
 " Try to rest now ; we will take the burden from you." 
 
 "Take this sleeping powder and let your mind rest," added Mrs. 
 Beame. 
 
 The day waned, still Susie slept. Fann}^ with the children, went 
 up to Alderbank, filled a basket with provisions, secured the doors, 
 and came back to the cabin for the night. 
 
 The next morning, Doctor Clarendon- was inf9rmed of affairs, 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 575 
 
 and volunteered to ride round to inform Filette Buddington how 
 much Susie needed the presence of Hester in her last hours. 
 
 " Binah shall go to Mrs. Buddington," said the doctor. " Our 
 nest is empty. Filette has many cares. I am sure Filette will 
 bring Hester as soon as she hears my message," 
 
 Hester came, bringing with her a bountiful supply of necessaries. 
 A week passed, and Hester sent the children, iii haste, for Mrs. 
 Beame. Hester met them outside the cabin, saying, — 
 
 " I think there's a change. I cannot be alone." 
 
 Susie whispered, — 
 
 " I am easier, but I think I am going." Her face lightened. 
 " Tell Henry, my poor Henry, if you ever see him, that I loved 
 him to the last ; that I thought of him in my last breath. Kiss me, 
 Fanny, I'm going." 
 
 The small funeral wound up from the river through the grassy 
 banks, bushes and alders to the main road, followed by a few who 
 loved the poor. In a shabby corner, overgrown by briers and 
 thistles, remote from the Saxon pride of marble head-stones and 
 monuments, Susie slept her last sleep. 
 
 The last of July, of that summer, brought letters from Richard 
 and Lucy. Little Addie took Fanny's place as post-office messen- 
 ger, and now brought her hands full of letters, spreading them out 
 on Fanny's lap, gleefully. 
 
 " Look, how many ; oh ! Miss Fanny, you will be so glad, and 
 Auntie Beame will be glad, too ! Ugh ! the sun is so hot ! Shall I 
 go and play while you read, auntie ? Am I a ' little pitcher,' auntie .? " 
 
 "Yes," said Mrs. Beame, laughingly, "you are a little honey 
 pitcher." She cast her arm around the little body, pressed Addie 
 to her heart, left a kiss on the brown cheek, and said, " Go, now 
 and carry that with you." 
 
 Happy as a golden butterfly she skipped from the room, while 
 Fanny opened the letter bearing her brother's direction, and read 
 aloud to her mother, — 
 
 «<9/z/^ — 184— . 
 " Dear Sister Fanny,— On this first line, read that we are well and happy; 
 that will lift the cloud from the sympathetic face and send a thrill of anticipated 
 pleasure into those sisterly eyes. We seem, for the nonce, to have left the 
 
C^jG WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 repjion of mobs and violence, and to have entered the district whose 'manna 
 falls,' as our good mother says. 
 
 " We came here somewhat worn by continued speaking and buffetings en- 
 dured. It is a pleasant spot, amid farms and undulating green. The family 
 are staunch Abolitionists. In view, is a fine farmer's mansion, whose inmates 
 and owners are connected with the South. Two of their sons are settled there, 
 and are now on their annuul summer visit here. 
 
 "We have addressed meetings here in quiet security. This little township 
 is not mobocratic. This family with Southern interests, never attend our meet- 
 ings or make social calls upon our hosts. However, we were informed privately, 
 that the wife of one of the sons, who is Southern born, was about to call on us, 
 to say what, as a Southerner, devolved upon her; that she could not see her 
 own section made the subject of contumacy and animadversion, without due re- 
 monstrance. Therefore we were not surj^rised to receive a note couched in 
 politest terms, requestiug an inrerview, with an appointment of the dav. 
 
 "We consented. On the next afternoon an elegant carriage with a colored 
 coachman, stopped at the gate. A lady of distinguished elegance alighted. 
 Iler chess and address betokened refinement and high breeding. She was tall, 
 with black, natural curls, a skin of alabaster, and eyes of such changeable brill- 
 iancy, that they might have been any or every color. She asked for Mr. and 
 Mrs. Beame, the anti-slavery lecturer. On meeting us in the parlor, she re- 
 quested the interview m.ight be strictly private, as her call pertained to us alone. 
 vShe urged that no doors be clcsed. We granted all. 
 
 "Judge of our surprise, when, finding herself securely free from interruption, 
 the lady extended her hand to Lucy and pressed it earnestly between both her 
 own, saying, ' I have a concealed purpose in this visit; I have not come to re- 
 buke either of you. I have not come to vindicate the South against any 'vitu- 
 peration,' as out-siders name your truthful assertions.' Here, she embraced 
 Lucy, touching her brow with her lips. I cannot explain the ineffable and ten- 
 der grace with which this act was done. She turned to me, saving, 'accept my 
 unfeigned admiration and gratitude for the heroism manifested in your two 
 lives. I have never before looked upon an Abolitionist; but here, mine eyes 
 have been blessed ! from my innermost heart I reverence you, and place you 
 far above all the blue-blooded nobility of our land. From every throbbing pulse 
 of my being, comes up the cry that you will continue to unfold the cruel out- 
 rages of slavery, that you will continue to measure the height and depth of its 
 crimes by the plummet of righteousness, that you will continue to scatter anathe- 
 mas that shall fall like burning coals upon the dead consciences of the North ! ' 
 
 "'You marvel, my friends, and justly, that I should be possessed of this 
 strange frenzy in your favor. It is true that the proud blue-blood of the aristo- 
 crat flows in these veins,' holding forth a hand more faultless than I had ever 
 dreamed of. ' It is true, I am a daughter of the South. Do not betray me — Do 
 not repeat my name — bury it in your own breasts ! Do not recognize me or 
 my family on our walks or rides. My call here, will satisfy the neighborhood; 
 therefore, speak of me lightly. Dear friends, say simply, that you expect cen- 
 sure and intimidation from Southerners,' She continued, ' I have a favor to 
 beg ; that you will accept from me, each of you, a package to be opened only 
 
^VHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 577 
 
 after my carriage has rolled away. Continue your ministry to the oppressed, and 
 God will bless you. Night and day, my poor prayers shall go up to the Throne 
 for you both, for the only two Abolitionists I have been permitted to meet.' She 
 pressed both our hands, embraced Lucy, saying, * Farewell ! Remember I am a 
 stranger, hereafter.' 
 
 " The carriage departed. Lucy and I retired to our chamber to examine 
 the packages. What do you think, my mother and sister, they contained ? 
 Mine contained one hundred dollars enclosed in these words. 'Consider the 
 giver of this small amount as your parishioner, hereafter.' 
 
 " ' This contribution to the meagre salary of one who preaches the pure gospel, 
 will be forwarded annually, by sealed letters to the care of your present host, 
 through whom it will reach Mr. Beame, my revered pastor.' I could only accept 
 the opportune gift in silent thankfulness ; you, at home, know well how much I 
 needed it. Lucy peered curiously at her neatly folded packet, raised it to her 
 lips and removed the wrappers ; you should have seen her utter a little scream 
 of delight, and holding her gift up to me. It was a likeness of^ the beautiful 
 stranger herself. The same perfection of feature and hair and skin ! The daz- 
 zling eyes had their native hautetcr and cold repose ; but we had seen them 
 melt ; we had seen this frigidity fused in her enthusiastic devotion to what she 
 termed our ' heroism.' 
 
 " The note accompanying the likeness, ran thus : ' When you look at this 
 face, listen to the voice that whispers these words from the still lips ; *' do not 
 falter, dear lady. For the love of God and humanity, do not falter-" You 
 shall see the pictured lips that speak, some day, and hang it in the secret cham- 
 ber of the soul, side by side with the memory of Leonora Wallace. You will 
 say she is as 
 
 " beautiful as ever looked ^ 
 
 From white clouds, in a dream : — " 
 
 '* You know, Fanny, Shelly says, — 
 
 " Music, when soft voices die, 
 Vibrates in the memory. 
 Odors, when sweet violets sicken. 
 Live, within the sense they quicken." 
 
 " So, around us linger the sweet words and affection of the beautilul straHger." 
 
 " So," said Mrs. Beame, at the conclusion of the letter, " my 
 children entertained an angel unawares." 
 
578 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 " A ND so my pretty wife must go to Washington ? here in 
 J\ August." 
 
 " Oh, yes, my husband ! I desire above all things to be present 
 at the discussien of that terrible ' Fugitive Slave Act,' in the Capi- 
 tal and out of it." Zaffiri clasped her hands tightly, and with a 
 groan added, " I wish to hear for myself the fiendish ring of the 
 whetting of that sword which shall slay every hope of Freedom in 
 the North." 
 
 " And you left your pleasant visiting days in the healthy air of 
 Cloudspire, to have your sensitive soul harrowed by the coarse 
 bullyings, murderous threats, and wilful falsehoods of the advo- 
 cates of that ' Act ; ' and to endure the mortification of seeing 
 Northern men yield to this climax of compromises?" 
 
 " Well, Claude, as I explained before our friends retired to 
 rest, our decision was sudden. We were all sitting on the piazza, 
 where, impulsively, George and Filette said, ' Let us go to Wash- 
 ington ! Let us enter the lion's den.' A swift compliance sprang 
 to my lips. I repeated, ' Let us go.' So here we all are, in New 
 York." 
 
 *• What if I lose you there, among so many Southerners ? " 
 
 Zaffiri uttered a light laugh, saying, — 
 
 "I think after that St. Louis ordeal, there is nothing to fear. 
 After leaning on the arm of my brother a whole evening and en- 
 joying safety from the dangerous acquaintance of those South 
 Carolinans, there will not be much to fear in Washington." 
 
 " However that may be, I shall accompany you, darling ! I am 
 your protector, till death do us part." 
 
 " JVi/l you go ? I am safe then. Happy conclusion ; I shall 
 sleep well to-night ; George and Filette will be delighted in the 
 morning." 
 
 "The Scripture saith, 'He giveth his beloved sleep;' there- 
 fore he will give my blue eyes sleep — the sweetest and most re- 
 freshing." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 579 
 
 The happy party arrived at the Capitol at night. The high bred 
 appearance of the new arrivals, obtained for them airy and select 
 rooms, Mr. Lambelle and lady were assigned to a parlor, which, 
 in the crowded condition of the house, had been furnished for 
 lodgings. This parlor, by sliding doors, communicated with 
 another, which was daily thronged with Southern and other select 
 guests. 
 
 The next morning, her first in Washington, Zaffiri was made an 
 involuntary participator in one of the many social intrigues car- 
 ried on in that Mecca of lover's vows and marital plans. While 
 engaged with her little Italian maid at her late toilet, late from 
 the fatigue of the previous day, earnest conversation from the ad- 
 joining parlor fell upon her ears. 
 
 " Well, May," said a matronly voice, " I think you should take a 
 little time for reflection, or should have taken it before this. 
 Young Dentelle is a fine match for any lady in the land, but you 
 have been playing off sadly, the week past. I am sure he would 
 propose if you gave him the opportunity." 
 
 "So would a dozen others, my dear mamma, if I gave them oppor- 
 tunity ! " replied a fresh, gay, girlish voice. 
 
 '' A dozen others, my child ! preposterous ! what have you to do 
 with a dozen others ? Cease this coquetting. You can choose but 
 
 one" 
 
 " Why, mamma, should I choose Monsieur Dentelle ? That 
 young lieutenant in the navy is far more captivating to me. His 
 martial air, it haunts me still ! " and her fingers rippled carelessly 
 over the keys of a piano like a robin's trill. 
 
 "May Bloome, listen. Put aside this giddy-headed nonsense. 
 Your lieutenant is nearly a head shorter than your own queenly 
 height ; besides, his antecedents are in obscurity. Dentelle is a 
 Southerner — a Georgian — he represents the blue blood and 
 high-toned chivalrous bearing which your father values so highly. 
 He inherits slaves which would be at your command. His figure 
 is commanding and taller than yours; his intercourse is marked 
 by a dignified courtesy for which one looks in vain among North- 
 erners, He is a regal match for you, May ! Judging from his 
 continued and delicate attentions, I am sure you have enchained 
 his affections." 
 
580 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 A liquid symphony of chords and arpeggios followed. 
 
 " My daughter, leave that instrument and listen to me seriously." 
 
 " Mamma, of what advantage is seriousness ? It is said repeat- 
 edly, that Southerners marry Southerners, frequently not going out- 
 side of the family blood, in order to retain estates in the same 
 proud line. How, then, could Agustus Dentelle have intentions of 
 marriage with a Northerner — and an Indianian at that ? He may 
 wish to dally an idle hour with 7Jte among many others, as the 
 butterfly flutters among flowers." 
 
 " My dear May, I beg you to reflect. At the president's levee, 
 where you first met, he singled you out from the throng of fascinat- 
 ing beauties, he honored you with marked and public attentions, 
 from which he has never faltered, smce. Here, in these parlors, 
 he hangs upon every word and act of yours, with distinguished ad- 
 miration. Besides, these Southerners know the status of Northern 
 men. Dentelle, here, knows ]\Ir. Bloome is a staunch Democrat 
 of the Southern type, supporting Southern rights, bending all his 
 political power, which is by no means insignificant, to their sup- 
 port. He knows, also, that your papa will be a member of the 
 constitutional convention to meet in Indiana this year, and that he 
 will make every effort to carry the measures which the South de- 
 mands." 
 
 " Mamma, how is it you are so well informed ? " asked May, with 
 doubt in her tone. 
 
 " My authority is your own papa, himself. Dentelle has made 
 his acquaintance at the Capitol, introduced him to his friends, and 
 has invited him to dinner. It is openly understood that you are an 
 heiress, — sole heiress to enviable wealth. Your marriage dower 
 will be one hundred thousand dollars. Are you convinced, now, 
 that you are worth winning, by even Augustus Dentelle t and that 
 his attentions can possibly have the charm of sincerity .'' As to the 
 rest, your mirror will be one of the strongest allies in your decis- 
 ion." 
 
 " Mamma, I have had sufficient evidence of the power of my 
 personal attractions, and perhaps, if I should look deep enough 
 down into my volatile heart, I might find a preponderance for 
 Augustus Dentelle." 
 
 " It behooves you, then, my daughter, to take that trouble. Make 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 58 1 
 
 no delay. You may lose or win, by the very course you pursue to- 
 day. There stands your harp, silent and covered, although your 
 lover has repeatedly solicited its music. Unveil it this morning, 
 after the breakfast hours, and sweep from its strings the delicious 
 chords with which you know how, so well, to entrance all listeners. 
 When Dentelle's handsome turnout and servants bring him again 
 at your feet, accept his invitation to an airing, and leave me to 
 make excuses to others. Listen, my beautiful May, you cannot 
 tamper with the fiery Southern spirit. Dare not attempt it 
 
 lon<^er." 
 
 The* entrance of Mr. Buddington and Filette into the parlor 
 
 with others, hushed the conversation. 
 
 It had been agreed in New York, by Mr. Buddington and Mr. 
 Lambelie, that neither they nor their wives should pass judgment 
 upon the scenes that might transpire at the hotel or Capitol ; that 
 they should shield themselves among the fire-eaters by an amiable 
 silence. That they should avoid being drawn into debate, politely 
 baffling attempts to draw out their opinions on either of the ^com- 
 promises presented that session by the plastic hands of Clay." 
 
 "You see," said Mr. Lambelie, *'I should be on dangerous 
 ground among those imperious, aggressive, hot-headed members 
 of Congress and their brood of defiant, daring, body-guard. 
 Zaffiri and I have enough at stake to induce wariness, w hile we 
 are in the hands of the Philistines." 
 
 " I too," said Mr. Buddington, " have had enough of Texas ; 
 boundaries, and ten million. loans included. What could be said to 
 one like ' Holmes of South Caroliha,' who solemnly predicts, in 
 case of secession, that the doom of New England will be ' that of 
 Venia, Palmyra, and other cities of the old world, whose glory a?id 
 prosperity fttust be numbered among the things that were 1 ' What, 
 but the silence of contempt, would be a fitting reply." 
 
 " Or to that rabid ' Morse ' of Louisiana, who asserts that ' a 
 ^Union is not worth a curse, as long as distinction exists between 
 negroes and horses," continued Zaffiri. 
 
 " What better foil than silence, for that other madman, Langdon 
 Cheeves, who affirms that the only remedy for the South is seces- 
 sion, and who declares with imprudent effrontery, — 
 
 " * We can scatter our enemies like autumn leaves. California 
 
582 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 will be a slave-state; and we will form the most splendid empire on • 
 which the sun shines.' " 
 
 " We are agreed, then, that upon entering that arena of the fero- 
 cious and untamed, the guardian angel of Silence shall walk with 
 us ? " said Mr. Lambelle. 
 
 " We are agreed," was unanimous. 
 
 Zaffiri entered the crowded galleries, at the Capitol, with her 
 accustomed ease and elegant self-poise. Room was made tor her, 
 while jeweled hands of the South beckoned her to a seat among 
 them. 
 
 There sat the beautiful fugitive, breathing her charmed life of 
 Freedom in the very midst of her lynx-eyed hunters who were held 
 in leash only by a blind and dumb ignorance of their opportunity. 
 
 There, on the floor of the Senate chamber, stood Mason of Vir- 
 ginia, holding forth the eight sections of the ' Fugitive Slave Act,' 
 which was to make the mountains and valleys, the forests and 
 plains, the orchards and hearthstones of the North, sanguinary and 
 guilty hunting-grounds for the slave-masters of the South, which 
 should convert her citizens into baying bloodhounds, pursuing and 
 capturing their human prey. There were Webster, Dayton, and 
 Chase, with their' amendments for jury trial, rejected. There was 
 Jefferson Davis, triumphant ! filching the expenses of their " slaves' 
 delivery," from the coffers of the National Government. 
 
 These were proudly pointed out to the elegant stranger, as they 
 mentally termed Zaffiri, by ladies on either hand. On her left, sat 
 a young lady in costly attire, whose wonderful beauty attracted ad- 
 miring glances from all eyes ; even the staid senators below, found 
 time, in the fierce controversies of the hour, to lift their gaze to her 
 wonderful fascination. She was closely attended by a tall, pale, 
 young man, whose fiery spirit appeared, at times, aflame with the 
 violent and stormy debate proceeding below ; but, losing its vio- 
 lence and malignant bitterness when it turned to the lovely girt 
 beside him, and melting into acts of tenderest devotion. 
 
 " My dear May," he said, *' are you content and comfortable 
 here? shall I not take you into the air? Will you not faint in this 
 foul atmosphere ? Can your deUcate nerves endure this clash of 
 arms ? " > 
 
 " I am perfectly, well, Augustus, and nicely seated. I am accus- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 583 
 
 tomed to violent debate, both here and in Indiana. Papa, you 
 know, supports all Southern measures." 
 
 " I am gratified to have learned, Miss May, that Mr. Bloome has 
 clear views of Southern rights and of our constitutional claims upon 
 the North." 
 
 He took up her pearl and satin fan, and gently stirred the air, 
 devotedly studying the classic beauty of her face. 
 
 She turned politely to Zaffiai, — 
 
 " There is Thaddeus Stevens upon the floor, holding a confer- 
 ence with Mr. Seward, of New York. Both those senators are 
 enemies to slavery and hostile to Southern demands. There is Mr. 
 Clay, of Kentucky, approaching the President's chair. He is the 
 author of the compromises." She continued, " This Mr. Seward 
 asserts that there is a 'higher law' than the Constitution. He has 
 rendered Southern members highly indignant, and has subjected him- 
 self to the deserved odium of slave-holders. There is Mr. Webster 
 passing across the chamber. He is an advocate of the Fugitive 
 Slave Act. Papa says, * much to the chagrin ' of Massachusetts, 
 which has, heretofore, had a great pride in his masterly power in 
 behalf of Justice, as they term it. It seems to me, that owners of 
 property have a right io take it, wherever it may be found." 
 
 This last was spoken in the tone of inquiry. 
 
 Zaffiri replied, — 
 
 " Ownership confers rights which no laws or arguments should 
 resist or annul." 
 
 " Papa affirms the same," said the young lady, with an eloquent 
 smile. " Augustus, is not that gentleman speaking to Mr. Mason 
 Colonel Fairland of South Carolina? and is not the other Colonel 
 Haywood .-* I am sure I danced with both of them at the last 
 ball." 
 
 " They are the same, fair sylph ; they had the honor of being 
 your partners, also." 
 
 After adjournment, the only expression of feeling among the 
 party was a long pressure of Filette's hand by Zaffiri, and the 
 guarded reply, — 
 
 " These scenes curdle one's blood ! " 
 
 At the hotel. May Bloome increased her acquaintance with 
 Zaffiri and her party, seeming to proffer a tribute of esteem and af 
 
584 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 fection to her, that w^s bestowed upon no other. Madame Lam- 
 belle must sit, chat, walk, and ride with May -Bloome, recognized 
 ever}nvhere as the charming young heiress. She must be intro- 
 duced to May's friends, to Colonel Haywood and Major Fairland, 
 to Dentelle, the elder, his lady, and a host of accomplished South- 
 ern ladies, with whom May was a general favorite. 
 
 The party remained until the ' Fugitive Slave Act * became a 
 law j till, with deep mortification, they had seen thirty-three North- 
 ern Congressmen dodge the vote, and thirty-one bow the servile 
 knee to Baal. 
 
 " Let us go," said Squire Buddington, " we have witnessed with 
 our own eyes the thraldom of the North. We have seen the gov- 
 ernment of our Republican country which bears on its frontlet the 
 eternal Truth, that ' all men are created free and equal,' securely 
 corraled in that Slave pen ! " 
 
 Arrived in New York, and seated around, in the security of Mr. 
 Lambelle's parlor, the public scenes and personal experiences of 
 the trip were socially rehearsed. 
 
 " So we have been converted into bloodhounds, to be ready for 
 the chase at the sound of the master's horn," said Mr. Lambelle. 
 " So, if your track should be scented, my poor wife, instead of 
 being your protector, as I have promised before God and man, I 
 should be forced, in obedience to United States' law and the com- 
 mand of a brutal officer, to lead them into your presence, assist in 
 putting on the manacles, and in thrusting you away from me into 
 a master's power." 
 
 " Oh ! my husband, to what extent have those Southern madmen 
 carried their high-handed domination ? Is there no arm to stay 
 this tide of despotism, or strengthen the wavering, imbecile, com- 
 promising North ? " 
 
 " / have not yet seen that arjn, Zaffiri," he replied, laying his 
 soothing hand on the head bent with weeping over the mass of 
 agony looming up in the future of the hunted ones. & 
 
 " There are twenty thousand fugitives in the so-called Free 
 States," remarked Squire Buddington. " Many of them have been 
 settled here for years, with homes, wives and children." 
 
 " Who can deliver them ? " asked Filette. " There is no refuge 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 585 
 
 for US, but in ' Seward's higher law.^ We must resist tliis ' act ' 
 even to martyrdom." 
 
 "Zaffiri, 5^ou made a strange but attractive friendship in Washing- 
 ton," said Mr. Lambelle, endeavoring to give a cheerfnl tone to 
 the conversation. " Miss May Bloome is the belle of the season. 
 She presented you with her picture. Let us examine it." 
 
 Being brought forward, it elicited exclamations of admiration. 
 It was colored by a master's brush, and was a faithful portrayal of 
 May's wonderful beauty. 
 
 " She looks like a born princess," said Filette, " without a 
 shadow of care on the marvelous symmetry of feature." 
 
 " There is a royal cast of countenance and a courtly style about 
 her, which one seldom meets. The dangerous flattery of the super- 
 ficial society surrounding her, has made no inroad upon the unaf- 
 fected simplicity and ingeniousness of her nature." 
 
 " She is an only child, doted upon by her parents, I believe ? " 
 said Filette inquiringly. 
 
 " She is, but what a pity that her fine nature should be dwarfed 
 by the Democratic teachings of her Democratic father. She be- 
 lieves in the monstrous 'Fugitive Slave Law,' as a simple act 
 securing the right of property. She has not a doubt on the pro- 
 priety of ownership in human beings." 
 
 " She is to visit you, Zaffiri, this winter, on her return to Indi- 
 ana ? " asked her husband. 
 
 " Certainly ; but we must lay aside the scales of justice when 
 May Bloome arrives, and give ourselves to fetes and pleasures." 
 
 Eight days after, Zaffiri and her friends had witnessed the pas- 
 sage of the odious bill. They sat cosily together awaiting the tea 
 hour and return of their husbands. Dear old Mrs. Weintze had 
 been a visitor for the day. Unusual gayety pervaded the happy 
 group. Papa Weintze entered with the two gentlemen, and after 
 a filial embrace from Zaffiri was led affectionately to the easiest 
 and roomiest chair in the parlor. Turning to greet Mr. Lambelle, 
 who had sunk upon the nearest sofa, she was appalled. 
 
 Pale and apparently speechless he gazed intently upon her ; her 
 own lips whitened ; she stood like a statue, and cried, — 
 
 " My dear husband, what is the matter ? Speak to me." He 
 
5S6 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 opened his arms. With one long cry she fell into the fond embrace, 
 still beseeching, " Speak to me, speak to 2affiri ? " 
 
 " Zaffiri, my precious wife, I have just witnessed a terrible scene. 
 I have just seen the laborious, faithful, trusty John Hamlet torn 
 from his work, without a moment's warning. He was brutally hand- 
 cuffed and forcibly thrust into a carriage, to be sent to Baltimore ; 
 to a woman, who claims to be his mistress. Our Father ! it was 
 pitiful to see the wild despair in which he begged for time to 
 take a last farewell of his wife and children ; his pleading voice 
 was hushed by violence ; every heart was stone. I thought of my 
 treasure left in this house ; I hastened to the store and with our 
 friends, hurried home. You are here, still, my life ! my all ! you 
 are not yet torn from my sheltering home. On my way here, I 
 made a quick resolve. To-morrow s dawn must meet you, Zaffiri, 
 leaving this city. You must go to the home of our friends, in 
 Cloudspire. From there, you must go to Europe, when I shall 
 have matured plans, which will be done quickly. 
 
 '• Zaffiri, I dare not trust you here longer. Every link in the 
 chain of events by which you escaped, will be ferreted out. Before 
 we dream of it, the clanking of your hand-cuffs, my precious dar- 
 ling, will be heard in this parlor." 
 
 The awful danger so clearly depicted, struck awe to all present. 
 Filette silently wiped away her fast-falling tears. Old Dedierich 
 Weintze broke the silence. 
 
 ."I think, dear child, your husband has just grounds for fear. I 
 know the wicked determination of those Southerners ; they will 
 move Heaven and Earth to hunt out the fugitive. Distance nor 
 time will be taken into account ; and here, in the North, they will 
 find their willing agents at every step. I would fly, my child, from 
 the merciless hunt. " 
 
 Mr Lambelle drew his stunned and weeping wife up from the 
 carpet to the sofa at his side. He looked at his watch. "It is 
 early ; there is time before the tea hour, tor arranging prelimina- 
 ries. Mr. Buddington, you will pardon the abrupt termination of 
 your visit here. I am sure you perceive the hard necessity which 
 impels immediate action. ' 
 
 " We are only rejoiced to be able, at any moment, to assist in 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 587 
 
 securing the safety of Madame Lambelle ; whatever course you 
 may direct, we shall follow to the letter," replied the squire. 
 
 " Then I must leave this happy home of years, and wander 
 among strangers. How long must I stay ? " moaned Zaffiri. 
 
 "God only knows ! my poor lamb," tenderly replied Mr. Lam- 
 belle. I cannot cross the water now, but I shall find you, as soon 
 as possible. I cannot send you away, alone ; some companion 
 must be found to travel with you, to divest your castaway life in 
 some degree of its loneliness." 
 
 He pressed his palm to his forehead, distracted with bittter 
 thoughts. Ah ! it behooves me to act quickly ; Mrs. Buddington 
 do you think that Mary — Mrs. James Buddington, could be in- 
 duced to accompany Zaffiri to Europe ? her health is declining. 
 The journey might improve it. I will be responsible for her ex- 
 penses." 
 
 "It is a sudden idea, sir, but of this I am sure. She needs the 
 change, and your wife could have no better friend. I will use my 
 influence to have her go." 
 
 "She must go directly from Cloudspire. I propose that to-mor- 
 row Zaffiri arrives home with you, and that the next day they go on 
 to Canada, say to Montreal. The necessary equipments of cloth- 
 ing can be obtained there, or in London. In one week after 
 arranging business, I will join them in Montreal, and make arrange- 
 ments for the future. VVe should probably proceed to Halifax, 
 where I shall see them off, for England. Zaffiri has spent several 
 years in Europe, and with Mary, to whom she is warmly attached, 
 will get on quite agreeably." 
 
 " I will accompany them to Montreal," said George, " if it meets 
 your wishes." 
 
 " I am under many obligations for the favor, sir." 
 
 " By the way," continued George, " how would you like to have 
 Issy travel with them .? He has funds sufficient, with his annual 
 allowance, to pay his way, and the residence abroad would be of 
 immense advantage to him." 
 
 " That is a wonderful idea ; he would so much relieve both ladies," 
 answered Mr Lambelle. 
 
 " I should have a delightful family in my exile, if both consent to 
 
588 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 your plans, Claude ! but you, my deserted husband, who can pour 
 the oil of joy into your life ? " 
 
 " Nevermind that, my beautiful. Think that my chief joy will 
 be to know that you are free, and that somcth?ie and somewhere^ our 
 domestic peace and happiness will be established." 
 
 " Mamma Weintze will look after Mr. Lambelle," said the good 
 matron. " We will comfort him. Leave him to us," she continued, 
 in a soft, broken voice. " Leave this house to me, dear child ; 
 there is your tea bell." She encircled Zaffiri with a motherly arm. 
 " Come take refreshment j let us trust in Him who orders human 
 events." 
 
 There was no sleep for these four friends, that night. Prepaitions 
 for a long absence required much time, and they were to start 
 before dawn. The heavy traveling trunks were packed by Filette 
 and Cossetina. A nervous helplessness came upon Zaffiri, who, by 
 turns moaned upon the sofas, or walked the floor, on the arm of her 
 pale and suffering husband. 
 
 "To-morrow night, my dear wife will be safe under the flag of 
 England ! Ten thousand curses rest upon our ' Stars and Stripes, 
 the flaunting lie ! ' " he said. One week will soon pass, and you 
 will greet me again mfree Montreal." 
 
 The journey to Cloudspire was swift and undisturbed, save by the 
 thoughtful silence of the fugitive in the care of George and Filette. 
 The sun was sinking behind the familiar western woods, when they 
 drew near their pleasant grounds. A feeling of security pervaded 
 the conversation. Each felt that immediate jeopardy was left 
 behind. 
 
 The carriage turned into the yard. 
 
 " Well, well ! " exclaimed Mr. Buddington, " what's all this ! 
 One, two, three, four buggies hitched here ! Filette, I guess Ro- 
 land and his mother have given a surprise party." 
 
 Before they alighted, Mrs. Clarendon and Hester appeareed on 
 the green, with open arms to receive their friends. 
 
 " What sent you home so soon ? " cried Hester. " Oh ! I'm so 
 glad you're here ! Dear Mrs. Lambelle, are you sick ? Lean on 
 my arm, you look like fainting." 
 
 Mrs. Clarendon drew Filette's arm in hers, saying, — 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 589 
 
 " How welcome you all are ! we could not expect you so soon. 
 Dear me ! we've so much to tell you." 
 
 Dr. Clarendon descended the steps. 
 
 " Holloa, George ! you see we've taken possession of your 
 house — a good deal better than ours, you see — - a great tempta- 
 tion. Come in and see how we carry sail, while you are hob- 
 nobing with those much- to-be-esteemed Southerners, in Washing- 
 ton." , . , 
 
 They entered the parlor, charmed by the unexpected welcome, 
 but still marveling at the unexplained gathering. Here they were 
 saluted by Mr. Glenly, from East Elms, Mr. Link, and their two 
 anti-slavery friends from the quiet valley in their own town. On 
 the sofa, supported by pillows, Issy reclined. His head was care- 
 fully bound up, and he only extended his hand in place of his cus- 
 tomary enthusiastic salutation. 
 
 " What has happened my dear boy ? " exclaimed George, in a 
 quiet tone of alarm. "No, be quiet, Paisley. Doctor, what does 
 
 it all mean?" 
 
 " Do explain, quickly ! " begged Filette. 
 
 " Sit down then, and get your pulses into salubrious action. 
 Remember, I am professionally master of ceremonies. Be seated, 
 I say, or I'll administer a nerve tonic to all five of you, before a 
 
 word is said." 
 
 Meantime the red bandana performed its customary office. 
 
 " There, now, we are all right. You see George, while you all 
 were at the Capitol plotting secession and the destruction of the 
 Constitution, hatched by the wisdom of our infallible fathers, we, 
 peace-loving and law-abiding citizens, as we are, remained in our 
 obscure homes, to give an early test of the humane law of the 
 United States, termed the ' Fugitive Slave Act' By the^ loyal 
 assistance of Mr. Lappin, as wary a hound as any other in the 
 service of our glorious Republic, in conjunction with Cloudspire's 
 disguised admiral, Lem Hamm, distinguished by the rings in his 
 ears and by the awful majesty of the power of a United States 
 marshal from West Elms, we have performed every iota of that 
 ' Act ' this day, except taking the property claimed back to bond- 
 age." 
 
590 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 This information was given with rhetorical effect, the doctor on 
 his feet and gesticulating before his listeners. 
 
 " We, and our coadjutors, before mentioned, have proven our 
 fealty to the Union, by putting every element of this ' Act ' to its 
 trial in legal proportions. There was surprise, violence, blood- 
 shed, prayer, blasphemy, sympathy, atrocit}'^, despair, hope, hand- 
 cuffs and torture, black villainy and white innocence, piratical 
 robbery, and swift retribution. By Jove ! gentlemen, those are 
 ingredients for a Christian dose, that ought to render the par- 
 taker fit for the highest Heaven. Come here, Hester ; take the 
 stand. I'm tired. Give some of this morning's particulars." 
 
 "Do, Hester," begged Filette; "omit nothing. ' 
 
 " I will if I can, Sirs. Buddington ; but I've been as wild as a 
 hawk, all day. When I speak of it I half lose my senses. I've 
 done nothing all day, but run from room to room and look down 
 the road, shake my fists, and vow vengeance. Why, they'll have 
 fpie, next ! " 
 
 " There is no doubt but resort will be had to kidnapping," 
 remarked Mr. Glenly ; " but, Hester, you are in good hands ; you 
 are well known in this place." 
 
 '' We will all take care of you, Hester," answered Filette, sooth- 
 ingly. Go on, now, and tell us about it." 
 
 " Well, I got up early, did the milking, skimmed the cream, and 
 got breakfast, so that Issy could go down to the doctor's to study 
 his books. About nine o'clock, three men rode up to the kitchen 
 door in a two-seated wagon ; one was a stranger, but the other 
 two I knew ; one was that fool-minded Lappin that came here 
 after Robert ; the other was that old blotch-faced sailor, Lem 
 Hamm, that helped tear up your pew in the meeting-house. 
 
 " The stranger asked if Mr. Buddington was at home, and when 
 he would come .'' I said I didn't know, and they went away as I 
 supposed. 
 
 " About ten o'clock, I heard a dreadful cry of murder down the 
 road. I ran to the door, and there in plain sight, was Issy deal- 
 ing a blow at old Lappin, that sent him reeling against the fence. 
 Then Lemm Hamm, with a great club, knocked Issy down. He 
 lay like a dead man ; they all bent over him, put irons on his wrists, 
 
THE STRUGGLE FOR LIBERTY. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 59 1 
 
 led their horse and wagon out of the birches and lifted Issy in ; 
 got in quick themselves, swearing, and drove off. 
 
 " I've heard so much about such works, that I thought in a min- 
 ute they were going to send him back South. I'm pretty quick to 
 think sometimes, so I run up to Issy's trunk, turned everything 
 bottom up on the floor, snatched the box that had his ' free papers' 
 in, hid it in my bosom and ran to the barn. I slipped the bridle 
 on that fast horse in quick metre. I didn't stop for no saddle ; 
 I said, ' Now, Jupe, I'll ride as fast as you can run.' I gave him a 
 cut and off we went. Jupe run like a rabbit. I took the cross 
 road by the spring, and got to the doctor's, first. He saw me com- 
 ing, and stood out there to stop me." 
 
 " Yes, yes ! " exclaimed the doctor. "I thought she and Jupe 
 both, were crazed. Old Revolutionary Putnam's race down the 
 stone steps was no touch to Hester's ride. She slid off like a cat 
 and glanced at me like a cat. ' Doctor,' she said, * they've got 
 Issy, to steal him, they've knocked him down ; and I don't know 
 but he's dead ; they are coming ; there they are, down in the hol- 
 low. Jump on to Jupe's back, do, doctor, quick ! and run him to 
 the depot ; you'll get there in time for the cars, and they'll carry 
 you to West Elms, before any horse can go there. Where's your 
 saddle .? I'll put it on for you — but do go.' 
 
 " Oh, you ninny ! said I, if you can ride bare-back, can't I ? 
 lead Jupe into the shed before they go past. They came up the 
 hill rather slow, breathing their horse. There the devils were 
 holding up Issy ; he hadn't come to, yet ; he had no hat on, and 
 the blood was streaming down his face." 
 
 " Halloo, there ! says I, who pays you for that work .'' God, the 
 devil, or the United States Congress ? I'll join your '■posse comit- 
 atiis.' ■' 
 
 " Mind your own business, or you may have a bullet wound to. 
 dress ior yourself,'' yelled Lem Hamm. "All hands ahoy." 
 
 " I roared after him, — 
 
 " * I'll lend a hand.' 
 
 "They drove ahead ; I snatched the box from Hester, jumped 
 on, and Jupe did his best, which is better than any horse about 
 here can do. We went round by Hickory Street, Jupe and I. We 
 headed the devils off. I got to the depot, just as the cars came up. 
 
2^2 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 ^ A case of life and death /' I said, * lake care of my horse ! * threw 
 fifty cents on the platform and jumped aboard. I went straight to 
 Judge Way's office, told him the trouble, and gave him Issy's ' free 
 papers.' We both slipped into the old tavern where we knew 
 they'd stop. I went out and collected a half dozen of our good 
 friends. We were all ready with a strong team, for the Right." 
 
 "They came up, followed by the rag-tag and bob-tail of all mean- 
 ness, shouting and whooping like savages. Issy had come too, and 
 was able to walk into a dark little back room ; we followed close 
 to their heels, and, for a few minutes there was hot work. 
 
 " Judge Way wound the rascals over his little finger. He told 
 them their prisoner had a rich white father, in Charleston ; that, 
 although his mother was black, and a slave. Doctor Paisley loved 
 his son as well as any father there, loved his ; ' and, far more so,' 
 said he, ' for I believe such black villians as I see before me now 
 would never give their child a deed of freedom, if, like Doctor 
 Paisley, they could sell one for fifteen hundred dollars.' 
 
 " Ishmael Paisley holds a deed of himself, which neither you, 
 nor any judge, nor any court, nor any congress can annul." 
 
 He slowly unfolded the papers and read them aloud. The ras- 
 cals were cowed, — 
 
 '' 'Take off those manacles,' thundered the Judge ; 'they belong 
 on your wrists, instead of the prisoner's. If Doctor Paisley were 
 here, you'd feel his bowie knife as the tree feels the lightning-bolt 
 of heaven.' 
 
 " The deputy-marshall then made his defense, said he was a green 
 hand in the business, and that he acted on information ; that no 
 man wished to walk within the letter of the law, more than he did. 
 It all came out. That infernal Lappin and Hamm worked up the 
 whole thing. I threatened to put the screws on to them, and they 
 were soon among the missing. 
 
 " Who should come in, towards the last, but our friend, Glenly, 
 here, the Lord's own good Samaritan. He brought us out from 
 West Elms, in his own carriage. I dressed Issy's wounds, com- 
 manded him to lie there, and here we all are." 
 
 " What became of you, Hester," asked Zaffiri. 
 
 " I declared I wouldn't go back without Mrs. Clarendon. I har- 
 nessed while she got ready, and we came back to Mary. I haven't 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 593 
 
 been good for anything, all day ; but we've managed to get a nice 
 tea, and there's plenty for you. Mr. Clarendon and Mary have 
 more than I." 
 
 " Hester was to be pitied," replied the former lady. " I thought 
 * Tarn O'Shanter ' was driving me up here, and she seemed to 
 believe that witches and imps were in close pursuit. Binah saw 
 Issy pass, from our window, and said, — 
 
 " ' Dar dey go ; jes' like Souf. Dem de slave trader. Issy gone, 
 bleeding, half dead. I s.een dat sight, fifty time. Dis Nort' gettin' 
 'cisely like de Souf. Go, missis, wid Hester; she go crazy 'fore 
 night.' " 
 
 Squire Buddington comforted Issy, expressing gratification that 
 matters were no worse. 
 
 " You are home again. This thing will never be tried over. God 
 will avenge your cause, and I trust you will live to witness this 
 debt paid, Issy." 
 
 In the interim, before tea, Zaffiri drew her chair to Issy's couch, 
 and, with a sympathy more expressive than words, held his hand 
 and soothed its throbbing pulses. 
 
 The two friends from the green valle}^, returned before tea. 
 
 Directly after tea, Mr. Glenly took his long ride home, to East 
 Elms ; the doctor and his wife remained for the evening. The 
 secret of Zaffiri's birth and enslavement was known to none but 
 George and Filette ; it was as safe with them as within her own 
 breast. Again in the parlor, George broached the subject of 
 travel abroad, to Mary. Argument and persuasion, in which 
 Doctor and Mrs. Clarendon and Mr. Link united, together with the 
 evident benefit to her health, resulting from change of scene, at 
 length prevailed. Much to the surprise of the others, the squire 
 drew his chair to Issy's couch, saying, — 
 
 "How would yoii like to go along with the ladies, travel in 
 Europe, and look after them for Mr. Lambelle ^ " 
 
 " And abandon this one object of my life — the study of medi- 
 cine ? " he asked in alarm. 
 
 " Abandon it ? by no means, by no means," cried the doctor, 
 waving the victorious bandana ; " there is no abandoning about it. 
 Tuck yourself into one of those German Universities, and study 
 medicine to your hearts content j more than I can ever teach you. 
 
594 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Why, study abroad, man, like a Southerner's son, as }'OU are." 
 
 "That's it," said George; "get these ladies settled in France, 
 Italy, or Germany, without fear of being hunted or stolen, and take 
 your foreign diploma." 
 
 "That would be delightful, Issy," exclaimed Zaffiri. 
 
 "There will be no Doctor Clarendon's there, I am afraid." 
 
 " There will be just and equitable laws which will answer for 
 good Doctor Clarendon. Those monarchies make no distinction 
 of complexion like our Republic. Here, .you will find difficulty in 
 entering any medical college. I advise you to go, Issy."' 
 
 " Then, let me go, Mr. Buddington, though I leave behind me 
 all I love on earth." 
 
 " Now. Mary," asked Filette, " will you be ready to depart before 
 light, in the morning.'"' 
 
 " To-morrow morning ? " 
 
 "Yes, to-morrow morning. Mr. Lambelle has decided his wife 
 must go on immediately; George will see you both to Montreal. 
 Equipments of travel can be procured there, better than here. 
 Mary, you are bewildered ; I will say ' yes ' for you." 
 
 Issy began to rise slowly from the pillows. 
 
 " Paisley, lie down again," cried the doctor ; " this hurry-scurry 
 won't do for j-ou. These invalid ladies don't want a crazy brain 
 fever to manage, in Montreal ; and, if you are going among Ger- 
 man doctors, so much above your old teacher, I want to prove that 
 Doctor Clarendon, of Cloudspire, Massachusetts, has some skill in 
 mending broken heads." 
 
 A hearty laugh went round and scattered the solemnity, creeping 
 into the atmosphere of sudden preparation. 
 
 " Madame Lambelle, how long shall you remain in Montreal ? " 
 asked Issy, sinking again into the pillows. 
 
 "Two weeks, perhaps. My husband will join us there in one 
 week. Perhaps the doctor will allow you to go on with him." 
 
 "There, you young Southerner," cried the doctor, triumphantly, 
 " time enough yet ; so keep your bed for a few days, at least ; 
 there, we'll determine the rest. We want you to live. God has 
 called you for some purpose. Mrs. Buddington, we must get our 
 patient into a quiet bed, out of the way of noise and confusion, 
 before another step is taken." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 595 
 
 When Mr. Link bade Issy "good-night," he offered the friendly 
 assurance that, if the doctor detained him longer than one week, 
 he, himself, would take him to Montreal, in good time. 
 
 " Good-night, poor child," said Zaffiri, " we will not leave you in 
 America. We shall wait till you join us." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE Congress of 185 1 assembled in due form in December. 
 It drew together, in its train from the various States, a reti- 
 nue of Northern and Southern men, with their families of fascinat- 
 ing daughters, and gay, dashing, ardent, young men, besides a 
 sprinkling of foreigners seeking to observe the operations of a 
 Republican Government. Added to these, were the empty-headed 
 votaries of fashion and display, adorning with fire-fly brilliancy, 
 the solemn, imposing scenes of the great sectional struggles going 
 on at that time on the two National arenas of the Capitol. Hotels 
 were filled. Private establishments were set up; some, with as 
 full a complement of slaves in attendance as one would see in a 
 Southern plantation home. 
 
 Mr. Bloome, a Democrat from Indiana, returned with his ele- 
 gant wife and daughter. He took a house with spacious apart- 
 ments and elaborate upholstery, flooded with marble, glass, and 
 silver in princely proportions. Well-trained lackeys waiced in his 
 halls, prepared luxuries in his kitchen, and served his guests. 
 They called him by the flattering name of master j but, that all- 
 potent word, he hired with his servants. 
 
 Dentelle, the Georgian, with his Northern wife and family, were 
 domiciled in a roomy mansion, which echoed with the hurrying 
 steps of his own slaves. The appellation of master, for him, was 
 the grand American inheritance, the swindling title that cheated 
 the Constitution out of its well-meant Equality, and left the mam- 
 moth skeleton without a soul. 
 
 Both mansions held ample accomodations for the dinner parties, 
 in the winter's prospect. Both gentlemen drove out with liveried 
 coachmen. Each carried May Bloome, the reigning belle, and 
 
596 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 each turnout alike basked in the obsequious courtesy of the ad- 
 miring promenade. 
 
 Colonel Fairland and family from " Le Grand Palais " were at 
 the Capitol. Ralph Haywood, with his trusting wife, Gracie, from 
 Charleston, were also within the noted circle. These gentlemen 
 were both heavy rice planters ; and, as such, were the acknowl- 
 edged leaders of Southern ton, guarding their high invitations 
 and other social favors within the strictist lines of caste. Colonel 
 Haywood was pointed to all strangers as the haughtiest political 
 dictator and the most vehement claimant of Southern Rights on 
 the ground. He wore habitually the bowie knife and pistol. On 
 the blade of the former, one read the warning, " Death to Aboli- 
 tionists," and, in the fierce debates of that day, its swift gleaming 
 often flashed prophetically in -the Senate Chamber, Representative's 
 Hall, and. the lobby. The only labor which his adoring wife 
 deigned to perform, was to polish carefully its glittering surfaces, 
 murmuring idolatrously, — 
 
 " This is our only shibboleth of safety and ultimate victory over 
 the mud-stained hordes of the North!" 
 
 Once, during the session, in the midst of a coterie of morning 
 calls of her own class, she begged her husband to draw this knife 
 from the sheath, that her friends might enjoy its perfection of finish 
 and adaptability of purpose. As it passed from hand to hand, one 
 lady said, — 
 
 " My son wears one of the same pattern." 
 
 " My husband," said another, " has a blade precisely like it. 
 He says he either wears it next his heart, or lays it on his Bible." 
 
 " That instrument would be a quietus for those outrageous 
 traitors to our Constitution, who continue to infest Congress, de- 
 spite the protestations of the South." 
 
 " True, my dear Mrs. Haywood," replied one of her friends. 
 " It would be a magnificent answer to that upstart ' Sumner,' from 
 Massachusetts. Did you hear his atrocious language, on what he 
 termed our efforts to ' repress liberty of speech ? " 
 
 "I was kept in by indisposition." » 
 
 " Do repeat it ! " demanded the others. " You have the exact 
 words — you repeat it so splendidly. Let us listen, ladies." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 597 
 
 Intense scorn marred her fine features, while she slowly re- 
 peated, — 
 
 " The convictions of the heart cannot be repressed. The 
 utterances of conscience must be heard ! They break forth with 
 irrepressible might ! As well attempt to check the tides of the 
 ocean, the current of the Mississipi, or the rushing waters of Niag- 
 ara. The discussion of slavery will proceed, wherever two or 
 three are gathered together, by the fireside, on the public highway, 
 at the public meeting, in the church. The movement against 
 slavery is from theEverlasting Arm ! Even now it is gathering its 
 forces, soon to be confessed everywhere. It may not yet be felt 
 in the high places of office and power ; but all who can put their 
 ears humbly to the ground, will hear and comprehend its incessant 
 and advancing tread ! " 
 
 *' Sumner ! prating of heart and conscience ! " excitedly re- 
 torted Mrs. Linde, from Alabama. " That daring abolitionist, and 
 all others of his foul blood have neither. It were well for infidel 
 fanatics, who threaten to deluge our land in blood, to pay heed 
 to the wise teachings of Professor Stewart, of Andover Theological 
 Seminary ; in the very Massachusetts which fosters such vipers as 
 Garrison and Sumner. Professor Stewart has written a labored 
 pamphlet, entitled ' Conscience and the Constitution ; ' in which he 
 exhausts argument in vindication of the Fugitive Slave Act. He 
 has also signed a letter, ' thanking Mr. Webster for his advocacy 
 of compromise measures.' That is the kind of authority that sets 
 the seal of righteousness upon our political demands." 
 
 "Alabama is safe when Mrs. Linde defends her!" ejaculated 
 Mrs. Haywood. She should go upon the Congressional floor." 
 
 " Nay, nay, my dear friend ! " replied Mrs. Linde. Her voice 
 sank to a devotional inflection. " Nay, nay ! within woman's 
 holy sphere, within the sanctity of home, at the mother's knee, at 
 the altar of prayer, let us teach our sons to hate and resist to 
 the death these frenzied Northern murderers who strive to subvert 
 the very teachings of God, himself." 
 
 " Murderer is the term which Mr. Weller applied openly to 
 Sumner, and to all others who advise resistance to the law," sug- 
 gested Mrs. Haywood. 
 
 " This Massachusetts senator, Sumner, must have shrank from 
 
59^ WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 the fierce onset of arrow and lance," said Mrs. Fairland, with en- 
 thusiasm. " Ah ! indeed, Mrs. Haywood, you should have been 
 present when Mr. Clay, from Alabama, branding him as a ^sneak- 
 ing, sinuous, snake-like poltroon, feeling the obligation fieit/ier of the di- 
 vine law, nor of the law of the land, nor of the law of honor. ^ You 
 should have heard the approving volleys of, ' Good ! good ! right ! 
 true ! * which rained around the valliant Alabamian from our 
 ladies* gallery." 
 
 " There it is, ladies ! " ejaculated Colonel Haywood ; " the law 
 of honor with one quick pull of a trigger, would cut short long, use- 
 less harangues, and save millions of Congressional expense to the 
 Treasury. That postulate," exhibiting his gold-mounted pistol, 
 " would bring the so much desired era of peace and brotherly 
 love.*' 
 
 ^' Mon Dieuf^^hQ ejaculated, abruptly breaking the thread of 
 conversation. " There goes Gus Dentelle and his Northern affi- 
 anceey A lowering frown shadowed his features. " There must 
 be a corrupt vein somewhere in the Dentelle blood; father and son 
 marry Northerners." 
 
 " This alliance is not to be deprecated, Colonel," replied Mrs. 
 Fairland. "Mr. Fairland is almost in love with May Bloome, him- 
 self. I think I must come to the rescue. Mr. Bloome, her father, 
 is Southern in principle, a good Democrat, acceding to the adv^ance- 
 ment and enforcement of all Southern demands. Of course, he 
 cannot absolutely hold slaves, in Indiana." 
 
 ''With all deference to your kindly judgment, Mrs. Fairland, I 
 will leave this subject to the amiable discussion of my fair friends. 
 I am sure Mr. Bloome will receive justice at this tribunal. I 
 reluctantly beg to be excused, in order to fulfil an important 
 engagement. Charlotte, ring the bell." 
 
 This last request was given to Grace's maid ; she had just en- 
 tered, on some slight service for her mistress. Grace, as the wife 
 of Ralph Haywood, still preserved the same unfaltering trust in 
 the integrity of her father and husband, as she manifested in the 
 tete-et-tete with Leonore Wallace, on the day of her lover's arrival 
 from Paris. From the time Charlotte was sent up from Charles- 
 ton to Vaucluse, apparently by the selection of Colonel Hay- 
 wood's factors, to be installed seamstress, she had pleased Grace. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 599 
 
 The neat turban, the plain dress, the quiet submission to her orders, 
 and the quick anticipation of her wishes, answered the need she 
 had long felt, since the sale of Zoe. 
 
 Charlotte was therefore promoted to the office of lady's maid, 
 that Grace might have the benefit of her deft fingers, and fine taste 
 in her dressing-room, and at her expensive toilet. Grace had said 
 to her husband, — 
 
 "Costly fabrics and elegantly made dresses fail in effect, if 
 they be not tastefully arranged. Charlotte will equal that false, 
 deceptive Zoe of mine, that was sold into a cotton-field, for her 
 duplicity. I see no taint of it, in Charlotte ; she has the same in- 
 nate perception of becomingness, and propriety as Zoe, in what- 
 ever costume I appear. Therefore, Ralph, you will write Ker- 
 shaw & Lewis, for another seamstress ; and I shall expect they will 
 exercise the ^ame care in the purchase of another, as was shown in 
 buying Charlotte." 
 
 " Charlotte is free, my dear Grace ; were you not aware of 
 
 that ? " 
 
 At the same time he threw his arm about her, and drew her to 
 his side. Continuing, he said, — 
 
 "I think no trouble or expense too great for my proud» lovely 
 wife. I ordered a seamstress of a pleasant, tractable nature, that 
 my pet should not have her delicate nervous organization ruffled. 
 Vexation would spoil your charming beauty, my darling, therefore 
 she is a /(^zV/ servant. You were ignorant of that fact ?' 
 
 She looked fondly in his face, with a happy smile of satisfaction 
 at this proof of her husband's admiration, and replied, — 
 
 " Of course, Ralph, I did not dream of it. You know I never 
 hold conversation with slaves or free. Charlotte is silent and at- 
 tentive ; so that I have never had occasion to use my rawhide 
 or slipper ; neither have I yet seen the necessity of sending her to 
 the work-house for punishment. Her tasks have always been done 
 well ; and more than her tasks, daily j so I gave the matter no 
 
 thought." 
 
 "Then, let no thought of her trouble your gentle heart hereafter, 
 unless she prove refractory ; then, sweet wife, she shall feel my 
 authority ! " 
 
 He raised her jeweled hand to his lips, imprinting kisses upon it. 
 
6oo WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 tt 
 
 Ah, Ralph ! " replied Grace, " you were ever so knightly in 
 your devotion to me. Those diamonds/^/*? in the light of your re- 
 splendent love." 
 
 " Nay, sweet one, thou drawest me with cords, and I can but 
 run after thee ! Even now, I am loth to part with thee, when the 
 gallop awaits, that brings invigorakng health to the wan cheek of 
 my incomparable Grace, when thy pony calls thee at the gate." 
 
 " But, Ralph, Doctor Paisley, the dear, good, old physician, bids 
 me go ; and he has prescribed the hour. Look there, at the clock j 
 this is the very time. Adieu, 7no?i chereP^ 
 
 He accompanied her to the parlor door, his arm still about her. 
 While ascending to the dressing-room, she heard his, — 
 
 '•^ Au revoir, ma belle — I shall write letters in your absence." 
 
 March was directed to follow his mistress. 
 
 Colonel Haywood betook himself to the library, and under pre- 
 tence of writing, gave orders that he should not be disturbed. On 
 his way he bade Charlotte meet him there. A few moments suf- 
 ficed for the preparation she was expected to make on a summons 
 to her master. She glided within the library door, and drew from 
 her head the loosely tied turban. The wealth of her jetty hair 
 fell about her shoulders in masses of curls, out of which shone 
 from her small ears pendants as fine and rich as those of her mis- 
 tress. 
 
 "Treat that turban tenderly!" he said with irony; "there is 
 virtue in it. Cast off the coarse disguise, and approach, my Star 
 of the Orient ! There is news ! another phase to affairs. ' 
 
 She hastily laid aside her calico wrapper and stepped forth, like 
 Cinderilla, from the dress of a homely-clad slave, in the garniture 
 of silk and soft lace — the one admired woman of her haughty and 
 defiant master. 
 
 " Elegante, ma belle princess I Come, let us promenade. Without 
 music there can be no waltzing ; that would suit me better. In 
 lieu of that, the promenade." 
 
 He drew her brown arm within his, and thus they swept slowly 
 over the rich carpet, her eyes seeking its velvet flowers, and his 
 scanning her stately beauty with a softened expression of idolatry 
 that none but herself ever witnessed. 
 
 " We have but a short half hour j lift those lashes, and listen. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 6oi 
 
 Grace is well pleased with your service, and, to-day, has proposed 
 to elevate you to the office of lady's-maid. She praises your taste 
 and demeanor. So far, so good. Become her maid, and maintain 
 the quiet submissiom to her will, so far successful. Grace has the 
 indomitable Southern fire in her make up, and she will banish you 
 in a twinkling, if roused. If that happen, Charlotte, listen, if that 
 happen, I cannot interfere. Therefore, I have told her that you 
 are free ; that I hire you for wages, in order that, if she take a 
 dislike, you can retire to your apartments in Water Street, as before 
 you came into her service. 
 
 "You are mine, Charlotte. I hold the deed of you. To Grace, 
 you are free. With this understanding, you can travel where she 
 would not consent to take a slave. She is sacredly observant of 
 the laws of our State ; she classes them with the Ten Command- 
 ments and the ' Sermon on the Mount.' During our seasons in 
 Charleston, when you wish to occupy your house, and take a vaca- 
 tion from service, you can do so, without offence. You can retain 
 her favor by going to the house to attend to her toilet on special 
 occasions. In your retreat, I shall join you at my pleasure, without 
 the forced restraint necessary under Grace's surveillance. Now, 
 brown dove, what have you to say ? Speak ! I have not yet heard 
 the mellow music of your voice. Soon, I shall have to thrust you 
 from me, and take back again the old, icy inflexibility towards you. 
 
 " Mon Dieic ! if King Solomon were here now, he would strive 
 to buy you from me with his royal treasures ! to make you queen 
 of his thousand wives ! Jupiter Tonens ! we would inaugurate a 
 duel on the spot ! St. George ! I'd lay Solomon's crowned head 
 low, though he should offer to divide his throne ! 
 
 " Tell me — tell me — tell me dearest, 
 What is in thy dark eyes' play .'' 
 Is it fear, or love's rejoicing, 
 
 Dancing in their depths, to-day ? 
 
 Golden — golden — golden moments 
 
 Pass in silence — waste away. 
 Thoughts upon thy red lips quiver, 
 
 Speak ! brown dove ! what wilt thou say "i " 
 
 Round the room he whirled Charlotte, to the rythm of his own 
 improvisation. 
 
6o2 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " Only this ! " she said. " My heart repeats the lesson you have 
 taught me, here. I shall endeavor to satisfy the mistress, for the 
 master's happiness." 
 
 " Not for your own, Charlotte ? " 
 
 " Do you not know how willing I am to suffer all things to be 
 near you ? to hear your gentle voice, though gentle to others, 
 yet icy to me ? to live on stolen glances, that your law calls crime ? 
 Do I love you? Can you doubt my love, master, can you 
 doubt ? " 
 
 " Nonsense, Charlotte, the law is a dead better ! The men who 
 framed it knew the inevitable result. We men, and the law-makers 
 included, love whom we please. The legal objection is only 
 2ig2Lmsi jjiarrying co\or t The law cannot coerce the affections — 
 they are spontaneous. And yet there was a necessity for this re- 
 straint ; for, nine times out of ten, our young men lose their hearts 
 among the slaves. They wold marry in the eager passion of yo uth, 
 regardless of sequences. A slave and a wife cannot be the same ; 
 a \\'\it holds property under the law ; a slave cannot hold proper- 
 ty, for a slave /> property itself, and liable to be sold. If Southern 
 men should marry slaves, their children would become slaves, and 
 thus in the next generation, this would become a South of slaves, 
 with few masters." 
 
 She loosed herself from him and stood apart, casting forth the 
 full splendor of her dark, questioning eyes. The possibilities of 
 her condition dawned clearly upon her awakened mind. Pitiful 
 and helpless terror softened her proud beauty, and toned every 
 word. 
 
 " What am I, but a slave to be sold at your bidding ? away from 
 your sight forever ! to have every fond affection wrenched asun- 
 der ! to have my happiness torn up root and branch, and cast out 
 to perish. Oh, Heavenly Master ! what will become of me ? " 
 
 Ralph had never before seen the strong side of Charlotte's 
 character — this sudden outburst startled him. With exceedins: 
 tenderness he drew her back to himself, saying hastily, — 
 
 " Hush ! Charlotte, for God's sake, hush ! Away with these 
 blue-devils ! You are not a slave; you are only mine. Cursed be 
 the hand that ever signs your bill of sale ! " 
 
 " But this is a reality," she moaned. "What will become of me?" 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 603 
 
 " Hush, I say ! I will take charge of your future. Listen, Char- 
 lotte, I am not a beardless boy, choosing and tiring of an object 
 the same day. My love for you is no callow yearning that cloys 
 with the possession. Y ou are the true wife of my soul ; you are 
 mine by the law of Nature which is established by the Creator. 
 It has existed from the creation of man, before any human enact- 
 ments. / hate to the dagger' s point ! I love to the last pulse of my being ! 
 Grace is the wife of society and the statute book. Believe me, 
 and be cheerful. I am as much bound as you." 
 
 He looked at his watch, and said, — 
 
 "This sweet morsel of time is past. There! resume the 
 turban — let us go back to the old mockery. An revoir, ma bien 
 
 aimee^ 
 
 The seamstress was soon installed in the capacity of dressing- 
 maid ; and with a persistence which Grace's husband secretely 
 termed infatuation, she granted Charlotte every favor desired, 
 continuing her in service from year to year to the time of the 
 present chapter. The masks about Mrs. Haywood did not betray 
 their trusts. 
 
 Thus was the abused and innocent Zoe, revenged. 
 
 The irate Colonel Haywood soon bowed himself out of the 
 morning circle of Southern ladies ; and they were again plunged 
 into lively gossip on the daily news and occurrences. Mrs. 
 Fairland continued the conversation on the coming marriage of 
 young Dentelle. 
 
 " I do not think Augustus' alliance with Miss May reflects any 
 dishonor upon family lineage. She is an heiress to large wealth, 
 is exceedingly attractive ; she is destitute of that angular, offensive 
 brusqueness which one meets in intercourse with Northern ladies. 
 Indeed, she habitually manifests the graceful and suave dignity 
 that distinguishes our Southern daughters." 
 
 " I am most happy to coincide with your opinion," replied Mrs. 
 Fenn. "Besides, Northern men cannot become cotton or rice 
 planters ; their soil will not admit of it. But the young lady's 
 father is an extensive land-holder in Indiana, and his political 
 affiliations are entirely Southern." 
 
 Mrs. Haywood had a prejudice, in common with her husband, 
 
604 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 against Northern marriages ; but in this case she thought Augustus 
 only followed his father's precedent, who married a Philadelphian, 
 the daughter of an old Slaver's captain. 
 
 " There is a reason, my dear Mrs. Fairland," she said, " for the 
 gentle, engaging bearing of Mr. Bloome's daughter. She informs 
 me that she makes frequent journeys to Mississipi, to pass part of 
 the winter months in the family of a Mrs. Silton, who, she says, ii 
 a Southern lady of rare refinement. Through Mrs. Silton she has 
 received introductions to a large circle of high-bred Mississpi 
 families. jNIr. Silton is Ohio born, and a relative of Mr. Bloome. 
 The Silton family entertain Southern views. You see, ladies, that 
 whatever of unpolished rudeness, whatever of inelegance may 
 have been necessarily attached to May Bloom's Northern birth, 
 it has been eflaced by contact with the courtesies and amenities of 
 Southern society." 
 
 " A satisfactory explanation, Mrs. Haywood," replied several 
 voices. 
 
 *' My dear Mrs. Haywood, have you inspected Miss May's bridal 
 trousseau ? I had that pleasure yesterday," said Mrs. Fairland. 
 "It arrived from Paris only three days since." 
 
 " Under whose selection ? " inquired Mrs. Archibald, from St. 
 Louis. 
 
 " It was selected by a lady whose acquaintance Miss May 
 formed in Washington — Madame Lambelle, from New York. 
 She is traveling in Europe at present. May corresponds with her. 
 She is a lady of elegance, highly accomplished, speaks Italian 
 quite better than English." 
 
 " Madame Lambelle, did I hear aright ? speaks Italian — and 
 from New York ? It must be the same. She was in St. Louis, 
 some time since — brought letters of introduction to some of our 
 best families. Her husband went out to Texas. He contem- 
 plated a removal there ; went to look up claims, and learn the 
 prices of slaves in New Orleans, preparatory to purchasing for a 
 plantation. It must be the same. Without effort, all hearts were 
 laid at her feet. A few South Carolina gentlemen visited St. 
 Louis at that time. They met Madame Lambelle at our house. 
 They must be your acquaintances, ladies. There was Rev. Fred 
 Warham, a young man of chivalric carriage, gentle and courtly 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 605 
 
 as a knight of old. On the evening mentioned, he attached him- 
 self to Madame Lambelle. He appeared fascinated by her singu- 
 lar beauty, and did not leave her side the whole evening. Indeed, 
 on other occasions, he was irresistibly drawn to her, yet it is not 
 strange, for her memory remains to this day to her admirers, like 
 a beautiful vision. Do inform me, Mrs. Haywood, if he is mar- 
 ried?" inquired Mrs. Archibald. 
 
 "He is not married, yet; he is a gallant attendant upon our ladies. 
 I know of more than one who would consider their happiness in- 
 sured in his keeping. He seems to ward off Cupid's attacks with 
 easy nonchalance, and lead his bachelor life with great relish. He 
 is in Europe, at present." 
 
 " \h. ! he is recreant to the demands of the hour. He should 
 have been here, this winter, standing guard over this Fugitive Slave 
 Bill ! " ejaculated Mrs Fenn. 
 
 "He declares with amusing humor," remarked Mrs. Fairland, 
 smiling at the recollection, "that he has no need of the Act, that 
 he never loses his slaves by escape — that he cannot drive them away. 
 I suspect the Rev. Fred, as we call him, is too lenient — gives them 
 large liberties ; and writes as many passes as Major Measures. It 
 would be agreeable, as well as of pecuniary advantage, if other 
 masters could bear a similar testimony," said Mrs. Fairland, lugub- 
 riously. " We lose slaves every year by escape. Mr. Fairland has 
 six plantations ; the aggregate loss from all makes quite a hegira." 
 
 "True" said Mrs. Fenn with sympathy; "the ignorant things 
 escape from Alabama ; even it is quite astonishing how they make 
 their way through so many Slave States without detection. I really 
 think our negroes have the nature of wild beasts, for they evince 
 their cunning in eluding pursuit. But, Mrs. Fairland, these escapes 
 may be the fault of your overseers." 
 
 " Mr. Fairland has expressed that idea. We had an overseer some 
 years ago from the North, named Bill Steele ; he was unusually 
 rash and severe. Under him our loss in fugitives was about eight 
 thousand dollars ; however, he paid the penalty of his crimes. He 
 was found dead in a rice-ditch ; we found he came to his death by 
 the hand of one of our slaves. Colonel Fairland took no other notice 
 of the affair, for he said Steele had his deserts. He hi^mself di- 
 rectly defrauded us of the price and increase of a valuable slave 
 
6o6 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 child, while we were traveling. Mauma Prue whispered it to me 
 afterwards." 
 
 " How did he accomplish that robbery? not by the daring act of 
 sale on your own territory?" exclaimed Mrs. Fenn, in startled inter- 
 rogation. 
 
 At that moment the door was thrown open by a servant, and Mrs. 
 Dentelle, accompanied by her prospective daughter, May Bloome, 
 entered. After an enthusiastic reception by the ladies, and many 
 compliments to Miss May on her fine appearance, and rosy health, 
 Mrs. Fenn explained that they were repeating their old subject of 
 grievances in loss of slave property ; saying Mrs. Fairland was 
 about to present a new phase of our wrongs from a Northern 
 source. 
 
 " I beg the privilege of her continuance. I am sure it will be 
 interesting to all, as an incentive to greater watchfulness over our 
 overseers, who, under the guise of shepherds, steal the increase of 
 the flock.'- 
 
 " Most assuredly, my interest should equal yours," replied Mrs. 
 Dentelle, obligingly. " This constant loss of slave property de- 
 mands all the light thrown upon it possible. Proceed, Mrs. Fairland. 
 My dear May is soon to be initiated into the vexations of holding 
 slaves, and she will listen eagerly to what must inevitably pertain 
 to her future." A becoming blush heightened her attractions, 
 while she modestly termed herself a most appreciative listener. 
 Mrs. Fairland proceeded. 
 
 "To make myself understood, I must repeat that I was about 
 to explain one of our losses by a Northern overseer, named Bill 
 Steele. You understand, ladies ; and Miss May will learn that a 
 slave girl nearly white, or one that inexperienced eyes would call 
 white, brings a higher price in market than any oiher ! The reason 
 of this we will not discuss ; but the fact is patent. Mr. Fairland 
 bought a slave girl in Charleston, just before we left for Europe. 
 She called herself Isabel, a queenly name you will say ; and truly, 
 if I had bought ' Isabelle ' of Spain to wait upon me, I could not 
 have had a more worthless object ; stupid and absent, feeble and 
 dilatory as she proved, I drove her from my sight. 
 
 " In due time we returned from a few years' absence. Isabel was 
 dead. After a time, that most obsequious of overseers, Steele, was 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 607 
 
 killed by one of our negroes, and his wife returned North. Then 
 it came out that he took Isabel from the field, for his cook ; that 
 Isabel had a child, very fair, with blue eyes and flaxen hair. She 
 was bright and salable. Mauma Prue saw him ride off with her in 
 his arms one rainy night. The next day he made a hypocrite-calado 
 about her being stolen by the traders who were camped out a few 
 miles in the forest. Mauma Prue kept her secret while he lived. 
 He sold that fair child — she was a slave, born in the condition 
 of her mother, and now she would have been grown. She would 
 have brought a generous price — thousands of dollars !" 
 
 " That was an exact robbery of those same thousands ! " ex- 
 claimed Mrs. Fenn ; " for you know, ladies, how we personally tend 
 the young slaves, that they may attain their highest value, by years 
 of careful raising. Why, I have taken many a little pickaninny 
 into my own room, and watched it lying in a chair by my bedside 
 at night, and thereby saved and raised a valuable slave." 
 
 " We have all done the same," said Mrs. Fairland, " to the loss of 
 our own sleep and comfort ; for in breeding and raising slaves 
 largely lies the profit of this domestic institution. This fair child 
 is a dead loss. Since the Fugitive Slave Law, Mr. Fairland has re- 
 claimed several, but she cannot be described. Asre has blotted out 
 her identity. We have never employed a Northern overseer since. 
 
 " Colonel Haywood declares he will not stand for identity ! " said 
 Grace, scornfully " He will claim as many slaves from the North 
 as he has lost, at all cost. He says their claims to freedom are of 
 no avail with him ; and if they are free, they ought to be etislaved! so 
 no obstacle shall stand between him and his rights. If he had lost 
 that fair child, he would have brought back to Vaucluse a white girl 
 in her stead." 
 
 "There are any number of Northern marshals and their agents, 
 who will secure the complement of slaves demanded, without ex- 
 pense to the claimants. The United States is a good paymaster; 
 the more difficult the pursuit and transfer, the larger the bill for the 
 pockets of the hunters," said Mrs. Dentelle. " My husband says 
 the Fugitfve Slave Compromise is the grandest one yet ! " 
 
 "One more is needed yet," suggested Mrs. Archibald, of St. 
 Louis. Congress should reduce the six States of that detestable 
 New England, into one. That rocky nest of hissing abolitionists 
 
6o8 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 would then have but two senators, quite sufficient for the peace and 
 prosperity of our institutions." 
 
 " Then with Texas sub-divided by Con^^ress into a progeny of 
 slave-holding States, Calhoun's ' balance of power ' would be real- 
 ized," said Grace. 
 
 " Ah ! Miss May looks wearied," remarked Mrs. Fairland. " Let 
 us change the subject, ladies, for her young sake." 
 
 May made haste to reply. " I assure you, ladies, I am quite in- 
 terested. The condensation of the New England States, so very 
 small in area, is not a novel subject to me. I have heard papa and 
 Mr. Jefferson Davis discuss their insignificance of territory, and 
 the Congressional authority to limit them to one State ; I know 
 very well the dangerous sentiment of that section. I am quite ac- 
 quainted with Southern causes of anxiety." 
 
 " We are glad to hear it," said Mrs. Fenn, encouragingly. " Our 
 difficulties will soon tax your knowledge and ingenuity. The mere 
 governing of the slaves, the wild, ignorant creatures, at home, makes 
 a wearisome life for any mistress ; don't you think so, Mrs. Arch- 
 bald .? " 
 
 " It is a general cause of complaint," replied the lady addressed ; 
 " and we in St. Louis often declare we should be better off without 
 slaves. I envied Madame Lambelle her faithful, and devoted Cos- 
 setina. Why, the real affection she evinced for her mistress, was 
 touching." 
 
 '' I have a free servant, also," said Grace ; " my dressing-maid, 
 Charlotte ; she is devoted to me, and her taste is superb. Ralph 
 assured me that no sullen slave shall try my nerves ; and while I 
 think of it dear Miss May, will you accept of Charlotte's services 
 at your marriage toilet? I doubt if her equal is in Washington. 
 She can dress me early, and repair directly to your dressing-room. 
 
 Mrs. Dentelle accepted the considv^rate offer for her charge, and 
 the party fell to congratulating the lovely girl on the happy consum- 
 mation of her tenderest wishes, and on the arrival of the t\eg:int trous- 
 seau from Paris. Mrs. Fairland, who alone had inspected them, was 
 profuse in praises of the laces, satms, the materials of the various 
 suits to be worn on occasions after the ceremony. She especially 
 dwelt upon the pure brilliancy of the diamonds, and the delicate 
 choice of the pearls. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 609 
 
 "The set of turquoise," suggested Miss Bloome, "was a gift from 
 Madame Lambelle." 
 
 " They are very fine," said Mrs. Fairland ; " madame has exquis- 
 ite taste. Will her husband remain with your family till after your 
 marriage ? " 
 
 "He will." 
 
 "Then I must pay my respects to him, and inquire for his 
 lovely wife," said Mrs. Archibald. 
 
 "' My dear May, I must beg permission to look in upon your 
 charming Paris importation," said Grace, holding her parting hand 
 affectionately. 
 
 After dining at Mr. Dentelle's, and receiving the kindest atten- 
 tions from host and guest, and after bidding her lover a fond good 
 night in the gaily lighted parlors of her father's mansion, May 
 fouud herself sitting alone with her parents, for a confidential tete- 
 a-tete^ on coming events. 
 
 "How has papa's pet enjoyed the day?" enquired Mr. Bloome. 
 
 "Superlatively, papa; every possible attention has been be- 
 stowed ! " 
 
 The affiancee of a wealthy Southerner, my child, has nothing be- 
 fore her but pleasures, and fetes. I could wish no more honored 
 prospect for you, my daughter ! " exclaimed her mother, a com- 
 placent joy raying her features. " You will walk on velvet paths, 
 over roses and lillies. Dear May, I am too proud of this alliance. 
 Augustus daily manifests a deeper devotion to you." 
 
 "But mamma, I see clouds on my horizon, although I love Augus- 
 tus dearly." 
 
 " What clouds ? pray." 
 
 "We called to-day at Mrs. Haywood's, and met a party of morning 
 callers there ; Southern ladies of course. The burden of conver- 
 sation was the stupidity and indifference of slaves ; their escape 
 and recovery by the Fugitive Slave Act — the robbery by overseers ; 
 and I don't know what other trials of the system. It seems to me 
 that the South is in a perpetual, studied antagonism and quarrel 
 with the North. I don't like it, papa — that never-ending collision 
 and confusion with the two sections ! I want to be free like the 
 caroling birds — and happy like them, too ! " 
 
 " Never mind, pet j Augustus will do the valiant part — he will 
 
6lO WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 shield his bride from too much agitation. He is a host in himself ; 
 and outside of your boudoir and parlors, he will carry on the war- 
 fare. I predict that in time not far distant, the South will secede 
 from this incompatible Union. She will then carry all before her 
 by force of arms ; set up an independent government ; and who 
 knows but my pet, here, will be queen of the ascendant power.** 
 sitting on a throne, dispensing her frowns and smiles upon her 
 Southern subjects. Hey ? my poor worried pet ! " 
 
 His boisterous, rolicking laugh was contagious, and went round 
 the trio, exhilarating as the champagne that nightly bubbled at 
 his table. 
 
 " I think, papa, instead of being occupied with the august duties 
 of a throne, I shall be mostly engaged in nursing puny black babies 
 in my boudoir, feeding them pap, and singing money investing lul- 
 labys, according to the details of the morning call." 
 
 " Horrid ! May," exclaimed her mother. " Surely your nerves 
 are jangled into discord by too much excitement." 
 
 " By no means, mamma ; and if I follow Mrs. Dentelle's example 
 ,of to-day, I shall have a raw-hide within reach, and learn to wield 
 its stinging lash, and make my own blood run cold, if no one's else ; 
 and I might as well begin practice with one of those Paris slippers, 
 for slapping ears and cheeks with a slipper sole is another impend- 
 ing crisis." 
 
 " Three cheers for papa's little slaveholder!" cried her father. 
 " He'll buy her the handsomest rawhide in Savannah, gold mounted, 
 with a velvet handle, and a pair of Cinderilla slippers expressly for 
 her new dignities." 
 
 " No ! no ! papa ! Don't ridicule tired May's real troubles. 
 There will be no need of rawhides, or slippers, under her gentle 
 rule. Mrs. Sillton of Mississippi, never frightened her so in the 
 whole winters she passed with her ; and she is a Southerner. Ban- 
 ish those ugly spectres, child! Mr. Bloome, bring out the harp — 
 remove the cover ; May's fingers will extract from its strings the 
 balm that will heal herself." 
 
 He rose, eager to do anything to please his idol ; but would have 
 his say. "Now, if I held those stupid negroes, I should stir them 
 up with a gusto ! I should delight in any whip, slipper, or boot that 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 6ll 
 
 would quicken their time, or comprehension ! " He quietly pulled 
 the bell, and proceeded to the harp. 
 
 *' May, who were the dinner guests at Mr. Dentelle's ? " ques- 
 tioned the mother. 
 
 " Their usual set. The Misses JFairland have arrived — they were 
 there. Mrs. Fairland was absent. Mr. Lambelle was an honored 
 guest. And what do you think, mamma ! the Misses Fairland in- 
 sist on being two of my bridsmaids — one of them to stand with 
 Mr. Lambelle, and the other with a friend of Augustus, from Sa- 
 vannah." 
 
 "I think they are too passees for your bridesmaids !" 
 
 "Well, it is their decree, and who shall dare to differ, mamma? 
 Ugh ! they are so cold and haughty ! it makes me shiver. Their 
 affability seems to be condescension, yet they lavish much distinc- 
 tion upon me. They are coming to-morrow with others, to look at 
 my wedding dress, diamonds, etc." 
 
 " There's the harp waiting for fairy fingers," said her father, as 
 he bowed deeply before her, and presented his arm. Ah ! here 
 comes the servant with wine. Drink, May, I ordered it for you ; it 
 will touch those clouds in your horizon with gold." 
 
 " No, papa, I beg pardon, but the sight of wine disgusts me ; 
 the tables flowed with wine at the dinner, and undermined several 
 judgments. I will tune the harp." 
 
 " Even so it shall be," said the indulgent father. " Take the 
 wine away, boy." 
 
 Sweet and low, like the sighing of summer winds, floated away 
 the first chords from May's light touch, casting out by their sure 
 sorcery the unpleasant emotions which dropped around her like 
 mists from the day's social sky. More crisp and jubilant rang the 
 voice of the harp. A silver shower of notes filled the room and 
 fairly caused the fragrant flowers to tremble beneath its thrill. 
 Fear and discontent fled from the fair and noble lineaments. 
 The radiance of girlhood's untrammeled hopes filled the bright 
 room, and lifted its occupants above the political and social strife 
 that haunted and defiled the public halls and private homes of the 
 city. Looks of admiration were exchanged by the parents. The 
 door was set ajar by unseen hands from the hall, where a crowd of 
 servants had crept to listen. Like a goddess while she swept the 
 
6 12 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Strings of the gilded instrument, she played upon the hearts that 
 listened. The dark faces of the bond-men and bond-women in the 
 hall grew angelic ; they rose above chains and servitude, and to 
 their untutored minds Heaven opened. 
 
 May felt her father's arm about her, and heard him saying, — 
 
 " Our pet must rest. Sleep will come after the ecstasy of harp 
 and voice. Let me present you before the curtain." 
 
 He opened the door of the hall. Out from the group of servants 
 stepped the gray old butler, bowing respectfully, while all the 
 other dark faces beamed with adoring smiles. With great hu- 
 mility, the butler said, — 
 
 " Will de beautiful young lady 'low me to 'spress our thanks 
 for this gran' piece of de New Jerusalem let down dis ebening." 
 
 " De Lord bless de fine young missis ! " echoed old Chloe, the 
 cook. 
 
 When the door closed upon the happy company, I\Irs. Bloome 
 said to May, encouragingly. — 
 
 " Do you not see, my daughter, that love instead of severity will 
 rule your servants ? Your music and your own angelic sweetness 
 will supersede the rawhide and the slipper. Your slaves will 
 adore you. Their swift feet will anticipate your wishes. You will 
 be to them a goddess, moving amongst them in a halo of celestial 
 light." 
 
 Augustus Den telle led his Northern bride to the altar, amid the 
 universal admiration of his Southern friends. 
 
 " What a fine couple ! " 
 
 " A magnificient pair ! " 
 
 "A royal match! " 
 
 *' A queenly bride ! " dropped from the haughty lips about them. 
 
 Mr. Lambelle officiated as groomsman, with Mr. Fairland's 
 daughter as bridesmaid — and at the departure of the bridal party 
 for Savannah, he even yielded to the solicitations of May and 
 Augustus to accompany them there to participate in the gay festi- 
 vities awaiting. 
 
 Miss Fairland also left Washington for a week in Savannah, and 
 returned under Mr. Lambelle's escort. 
 
 Balls, receptions, pleasure trips -and invitations filled the happy 
 week. 
 
# 
 
 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 613 
 
 " If Zaffiri were only here," said the radiant May Dentelle, " our 
 joy would be complete ! She shall make amends by passing 
 some of those cold Northern winters in this delicious climate of 
 Savannah." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 WHEN Mr. Lambelle, accompanied by Miss Fairland, ar- 
 rived in Washington from Savannah, he found Colonel 
 Haywood's family in a state of angry ferment. The colonel's valu- 
 able slave, " March," had escaped in the face of the Fugitive Slave 
 Act. The unwelcome news had just reached him from Charleston, 
 although March took flight immediately after the family left for 
 Washington. 
 
 " Lambelle," said the master, " it is damned aggravating," lifting 
 up his tall figure nervously from his seat, and walking the floor 
 with his head thrown up, and his long hair falling about his shoul- 
 ders. " I left the black devil in South Carolina, and deprived my- 
 self of his services here, because Washington is a dangerous place 
 to bring slaves. I branded him, moreover, some years ago, with 
 my own hand ! With a red-hot iron I put my cattle-mark upon 
 him ! That mark will toll him back to me. 'Colonel R. H.' is 
 the brand on his right arm. Ripping up his sleeve, alone, will set- 
 tle the matter and hand him back to me. Lambelle, you are going 
 to New Yorkj you are no Northern, sneaking, poltroon, like that 
 upstart, Sumner, and others of his kith. Look after the runaway; 
 you are all right on the Constitution. Are you acquainted with the 
 marshalls and commissioners in New York ? " 
 
 "Familiarly acquainted, colonel," replied Mr. Lambelle, in an 
 off-hand style. " I shall be most happy to do the favor, sir. I 
 will step into the commissioner's office and look after this run- 
 away's apprehension ; if found, a fact of which I have no doubt, 
 will he be returned to you at Washington or to Charleston .'' " 
 
 " At Washington," answered Haywood. " I'll give him a taste 
 of chains and Georgetown jail — a thing out of his experience. 
 He has been treated in the kindest manner, sir, /i^e oiie of 7ny owa 
 
6 14 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 favtily ! His ingratitude enrages me. I shall offer two thousand, 
 five hundred dollars reward, sir. He shall come back into his 
 proper condition ! " Out from its sheath flashed the petted bowie- 
 knife in the face of his caller. "There!" he cried, setting his 
 teeth together. "I would sooner plunge that into the rascal, than 
 see him escape me ! That's a fine blade, sir : it would do its work 
 fairly." 
 
 Mr. Lambelle took it, read its motto, and coolly drew forth onc5 
 himself, saying, — 
 
 "They are not equal in size, but mine will obey a bloody errand. 
 I purchased it in Venice." 
 
 A grim smile parted the teeth of the colonel, as he examined the 
 weapon. 
 
 "A good investment, said he. " Glad to find your sentiments 
 allied to mine. I give you permission to plunge that same steel 
 home to the heart of that infernal March, if you find him and he 
 tries to slip from your grasp. Dead or alive, I will have his body." 
 
 "Can you not give me a description right here.? it may save 
 time and facilitate his arrest," questioned Mr. Lambelle. 
 
 " True, sir. Let me see ! " running his fingers through his hair. 
 " He's five feet, ten inches high, light mulatto, wears heavy mus- 
 tache, no beard, straight as a Palmetto, and about forty-five years 
 old, has a grave and well-bred air, is well-proportioned and muscu- 
 lar, is well dressed." 
 
 " What hair, sir .? " 
 
 "Ah! that escaped me; black, thick, and curling; voice, heavy 
 and pleasant." 
 
 Mr. Lambelle made a note of these items from the master's lips, 
 expressed deep interest in the return of March, and, after a turn of 
 conversation, left for other adieus. 
 
 Mr. Lambelle took the night train for New York, and arrived in 
 Philadelphia in a snow-storm. He stepped off the cars in that city, 
 and took a direction away from the main thoroughfare. The 
 driving storm had swept every vestige of humanity from his course ; 
 he paused ^ before a plain, ordinary house, rang' the bell, and was 
 welcomed in by a neat, smiling Quakeress, who led the way to the 
 plain, but inviting family room. Closed shutters, curtains, a warm, 
 ray carpet, bright lights, and a triple welcome from the others 
 
 or 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 61$ 
 
 present, met his entrance. The Quakeress assisted in removing 
 and shaking his snowy garments, saying, cheerfully, — 
 
 *' What brings thee here, in such a bitter night?" 
 
 " Duty, Rachel," he replied. " There, you see, is the sentinel's 
 cloak." 
 
 She was hanging the long, full garment against the wall. 
 
 " Thou hast never seen Friend Claude wear any other, Rachel," 
 said Benjamin, the husband of Rachel. 
 
 He held the visitors hat, brushed clear of snowflakes, in one 
 hand, and a pair of slippers in the other. 
 
 "Nay, Benjamin, I have very little to do with the world and its 
 fashions ; I like the sentinel's cloak best." 
 
 Benjamin placed an easy-chair by the stove for his friend, and 
 sat by him in another. His calm, benign face turned towards his 
 friend, and, in caressing tones, he asked, — 
 
 " Where hast thou been, friend Claude, and what is thy er- 
 rand ? " 
 
 " I have been to Washington, spying out the land, Friend Benny.- 
 What do you think, Ruth and Rebecca," addressing the two daugh- 
 ters, " I have played the roll of groomsman with a Southern 
 bridesmaid, at the grand wedding of a Northern belle and a South- 
 ern fire-eater." 
 
 Both dropped th^gray wool knitiing from their fingers; a smile 
 of curiosity beamed from under the borders of their snowy caps. 
 
 " Nay, friend Claude, did they not find thee out ? " questioned 
 Ruth. 
 
 •' Nay, nay, Ruth," answered Benjamin ; "he is as gay an aristo- 
 crat in the world, as thee can meet, when he wishes." 
 
 " More, Ruth," continued Mr. Lambelle. " I went to Savannah 
 with the bridal party, and escorted back to Washington my lady 
 duchess of Fairland, who resides, when at home, at the plantation 
 of ' Le Grand Palais,' South Carolina ; and, if my heart had not 
 been carried away to Italy, I think I could have made a conquest." 
 
 "Yea," said Rachel, "but those gay doings did not bring thee 
 here, to a station of the Underground Railroad, on a stormy 
 night, friend Claude." 
 
 " True, Rachel, I have better news than the story of a gay life 
 at the Capitol. I have had confided to me the flight of a slave 
 
6l6 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE, 
 
 from Charleston. I have been requested by his enraged master to 
 ]ook him up, and I am here now to redeem my promise." 
 
 " Hast thou his description ? " kindly inquired Benjamin. 
 
 " I have." 
 
 He took his note-book and read from it the items taken from his 
 master's lips. 
 
 " The same, Rachel ! " said Benjamin, passing his palm over his 
 bald head and giving his wife a satisfied and gracious smile. " He 
 is here, friend Claude. We have seen the brand. He arrived, 
 three days ago." 
 
 *' What name does he give his master ? " 
 
 "Colonel Haywood,'"' calmly answered Benjamin. "Come, 
 friend Claude, go up stairs with me. March is weary and dis- 
 heartened ; he will be glad to see the light of thy face and to drink 
 the strength of thy words." 
 
 Without a light they ascended private flights to the attic. In a 
 small room with one window, closely curtained, well warmed by a 
 stove, and comfortably furnished, sat the fugitive ; a sudden fear 
 crept into his suffering eyes, that fell upon a stranger. 
 
 " I bring thee a friend," said Benjamin. " ' Let not thy heart be 
 troubled.' This is Claude Lambelle, an Abolitionist like us." 
 
 March had risen ; his fine figure, tasteful dress, and repose of 
 manner were pleasing. 
 
 " March," said Mr. Lambelle, taking his hand and retaining it, 
 " let me immediately relieve you of anxiety. I have been in Wash- 
 ington, met there your master, learned of your flight from him. My 
 true character is known only to the friends of the slave. I travel 
 among Southerners and receive their hospitalities ; I affect to up- 
 hold Southern views, that I may see the exact condition of the 
 country, learn the exact sentiments and desires of the slave-holder, 
 and secretly report to Anti- Slavery men. Thus they are sure of 
 their own assertions, and are guided in their efforts to create a 
 sympathy for the oppressed. Be seated, my friend, and trust me 
 entirely. I am struck, March, with your resemblance to your mas- 
 ter ! Have you the same blood ? " 
 
 ''We are brothers, sir! by one father, sir! May I ask how he 
 regards my escape ? " said March, respect modulating every word. 
 
 " He speaks like a madman. It would be horrible for you to 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 617 
 
 fall into his power. He declares he will drag you back, dead or 
 alive. I gave him my word that I would seek you out. 1 have 
 come for that purpose, to offer you an asylum in my house in ]>iew 
 York I have a room for fugitives, more hidden than this. JNo 
 one could suspect me of harboring a slave, for I am never seen in 
 company with an Abolitionist, nor do they visit my house. No one 
 can suspect the presence of a fugitive there." ^ 
 
 " How shall I get there, sir ? I can have no written pass here, 
 
 sir : " asked March anxiously. , ^ .^ j • 
 
 Benjamin replied, "My friend, the Underground Railroad is a 
 safe means of travel. Its station agents, conductors and freight 
 agents are all experienced men. We will plan for you there. ^ 
 
 " Benny," said Mr. Lambelle, " in this case efficient haste is re- 
 quisite. This afternoon. Colonel Haywood developed his intention 
 to me of offering a reward of twenty-five hundred dollars for our 
 friend, here. To-morrow morning, through the aid of the telegraph 
 this unusual reward, together with the description of his person, 
 including the fatal brand, will be blazoned forth in the papers. 
 The eyes of our man-hunters will be quickened to sleeplessness, 
 and their ears will grow keener than the Southern blood-hounds. 
 
 The aid Quaker roused ; his mild eye flashed with determination. 
 His palm passed repeatedly over the shiny baldness of his fine- 
 shaped head, as if to coax from it the sagacity and wisdom imme- 
 diately demanded. ^ . , c.-n • J i-1 /I^ 
 
 After some moments of consideration, he said, *^ Friend Claude, 
 if March could go to New York as merchandise, his master s de- 
 scription would avail nothing." ,.-D t,- „„ 
 
 "Box him up, Benny ! " laughed Mr. Lambelle. " Box him up 
 and label him ! that's the idea ! " Then occurred the difficulty ot 
 the box and a place of unsuspicious rendezvous, and a dray-man. 
 
 After many rapid, fruitless suggestions, a thought struck Mr. 
 
 Lambelle. ^ o. ^^<. 
 
 " Benny, you know Blank, the manufacturer, on btreer, 
 
 plays my role of negro hater. Southern views, etcetera ! I have 
 seen the pavement before his manufactory piled with boxes for 
 freic^ht. Could we not manage to box our traveler there, at his 
 place of business, and send him to New York on the three o clock 
 train to-nic-hl ? Could Blank confide in his white dray-driver ? 
 
6l8 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " The driver is not white, friend Claude ; he too, came out of the 
 house of bondage. He passes for white, which will be in our 
 favor. Blank sends all his anti-slavery messages by him. Will 
 March consent to this mode of travel? " 
 
 " I will consent to any plan my friends devise ; I will be boxed 
 if vou direct it," said March, with some solicitude in his voice. 
 
 "It would be but a few hours ride, and I will take care that you 
 are safely consigned. I have a five-dollar gold piece for the driver 
 of the dray ; I shall go to New York in the same train with you, 
 and go directly to the consignee and await your arrival." 
 
 In the excitement of the conversation all were again stand- 
 ing. Mr. Lambelle laid a hearty slap on March's shoulder, 
 saying, " Take heart, my brave fellow, when you will be emerg- 
 ing from your box, within locked doors newspaper readers 
 will be rubbing their eyes over the first reading of Colonel Hay- 
 wood's advertisement." Turning to the Quaker he said, " I will go 
 to Blank directly and make arrangements ; meantime, let that 
 handsome mustache be removed and the curling hair cropped." 
 
 The two descended in darkness. Mr. Lambelle donned his long 
 cloak and broad-brim. 
 
 "It's a fine stormy night," said Rachel, in her silvery voice ; " the 
 world will not care to quiz outside occurrences." 
 
 " Favorable, Rachel," he replied, drawing his hat closer. '' Take 
 my adieus, good friends ; I shall not return, for in some way I shall 
 make this plan a success. You will find a way for March's trans- 
 fer to the manufactory. 
 
 A brief dilemma respecting this transfer, troubled the friends 
 after Mr. Lambelle's departure ; too much coming and going of 
 men at the quiet Quaker's home, might excite suspicion in the 
 minds of their lynx-eyed neighbors, and March must have a guide. 
 
 It was decided by Rachel. She said to her daughter Rebecca. 
 " Thou canst guide ]March — thou art about his height. Send him 
 a' dress and shawl ; he will only remove his coat. I will lend my 
 bonnet ; the Quaker bonnet will conceal his face. Like two women, 
 do then go out quietly at the basement door. Thou wilt be but a 
 good Samaritan." 
 
 *' That is right," said her husband ; " thou dost show excellent 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 619 
 
 judgment. Bring the gown and shawl and bonnet ; I will dress 
 
 March." . , ■,• - u- 
 
 March soon descended with Benny, in complete disguise ; his 
 coat was tied in a bundle, which was carried on his arm. Into it 
 Rachel crowded a package of seed-cakes and a flask of water. 
 
 « I cannot return alone, to-night," said Rebecca ; " I will go to 
 M^ry Blank's, for the remainder of the night." 
 
 " Yea, thou canst do so," replied her father. 
 
 « God bless this house, and its people, " said March, as the two 
 women stepped forth in the area and the midnight. 
 
 In due time the boxes were packed on the floor of the manufac- 
 torv • alike in size — alike in weight — aUke in label, and alike in 
 strong binding. Mr. Lambelle had gone to the depot ; the dray was 
 at the sidewalk, and the driver inside. , , , . 
 
 "Look here, driver," said Mr. Blank in a low tone, and looking 
 at his watch — " twenty minutes to three ; time to start. Look 
 here I shall give you some pretty round cursing at the freight car. 
 These 0-oods, you understand, ought, to have gone on the (ft even- 
 ing train ; but you were off, yourself, we'll say. That will be the 
 reason of this three o'clock move. Understand ? 
 
 " Every word, sir." . . • ^ *t 
 
 " Another thing, driver ; while I am storming, you step into the 
 car and set the boxes right side up, but, at any rate, stand //^.r/ one, 
 so, pointing to the one that contained slave property. The value 
 of that one is twenty-five hundred dollars. Right side up with 
 care — all aboard, now 1" ^ i „ u 
 
 The driver took from his pocket the shining five-dollar gold 
 
 piece, and showed it to Mr. Blank,—- , . n , » 
 
 " There, that's good pay for to-night's job, cussmg and all ! 
 « Ha i you're making money faster than 1 1 I'll give you a bit 
 
 of dressing down out here at the door, for inquisitive ears. 
 
 Hear?" , , 
 
 " Every word, sir," with a chuckling laugh. 
 
 " Go ahead, then." r, i a 
 
 The boxes rumbled out over the stones on to the dray. A 
 
 policeman stood near. , , ,, , 
 
 " Come, hurry up, lazybones," grumbled Blank, " keeping me up 
 
62 O WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 till this time o'night. If you'd been on hand and tended to your 
 business, this freight would have gone on the evening train ! 
 You'll have your walking papers, to-morrow. Drive ahead, I'm 
 tired," said Mr. Blank, interposing some of the most solid swearing 
 the policeman had heard. 
 
 The plump, sturdy dray horse, used to his bed after this time of 
 night, and, apparently more bewildered than anybody else, pulled 
 lustily over the rattling stones. 
 
 They had the boxes on the platform. Another lively scene was 
 enacted at the freight car door. 
 
 " Spring aboard there, driver! help sofnebodyf I'm not an owl, to 
 be kept up till three o'clock at night for goods that were ready to 
 go on the evening train 1 pack away, and take up your lines for 
 the stable ! " 
 
 A new brace of strong phrases followed. 
 
 Inside the car, the freightman said to the driver, — 
 
 " I wouldn't work for such a crabbed old boss ! I'd starve, 
 first 1 " 
 
 " I suppose it's my fault," said the driver ; " those boxes ought 
 to have gone last evening ; but he needn't turn owl, on my ac- 
 count. I can bring freight alone." 
 
 The train went on. Mr. Blank took the dray with the driver 
 and directed him to drive to his private residence. 
 
 " Tie the horse there, throw a blanket over him, and come in 
 for oysters and coffee ; my family will make you welcome." 
 
 "All right, sir ; " and, while he tied the wondering animal, the 
 street lamp threw its rays on his triumphant and happy face. 
 
 On the arrival of the train at New York, Mr. Lambelle made 
 rapid haste toward the store of Mr. Blank's consignee ; in a half 
 hour the merchant himself, by the side of his driver in the busi- 
 ness wagon, was hurrying through streets and round short corners, 
 to the depot, for the boxes. 
 
 In a hurry they returned. 
 
 " Drive up, Bill," said the merchant ; " this is a cold morning 
 and I have bills to settle or I should not have come out. At the 
 store, he said, " Tumble them in here. Bill, to the back room, and 
 put the horse up out of this snow." 
 
 The key of the door communicating with the front store, was 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 62 1 
 
 turned ; a saw and hatchet did lively work on the most valuable 
 box. The cover was quickly wrenched off, and March, with the 
 help of Mr. Lambelle, stepped out of his prison. 
 
 " Keep your hand on my shoulder a few moments, March ; you 
 cannot stand after the cramping," he said. "How did you find 
 
 your quarters ? " . ,, o u r- r 
 
 " I found more liberty in that box, than in all South Carolina, 
 sir Mr. Blank's driver set my cage right side up, and it was not 
 changed till the train arrived here, sir; then, I was turned out on 
 my head. How far is it to Canada, now, sir ? " 
 
 " Some distance yet, but trust to your friends, and let your mind 
 rest Our friends, here, will conceal you to-day, and to-night, 
 again, in a Quaker woman's dress, you will ring my door-bell and 
 pass in, out of danger." 
 
 " I could not go alone, sir." 
 
 " By no means. A lady will accompany you ; you will arrive in 
 a carriage. Our friend, the merchant, will now attend to your 
 concealment and refreshment." 
 
 '-' I will attend to the first, before you leave," said the merchant ; 
 " here is my private closet, of which I hold the key ; within, are 
 blankets and some of my extra winter clothing, plenty of breathing 
 room, and space for a chair." 
 
 He held the door open. 
 
 " Shall I go in, sir ? " questioned March. 
 
 "»Yes," said Mr. Lambelle, laughing; "that's better than the 
 workhouse, in Charleston." .,,, , .r n « t 
 
 " Do not take trouble for my food," said March, respectfully, 1 
 have some seed-cakes and a flask of water, from the good Quak- 
 
 eress." 
 
 "Never mind the seed-cakes, my friend," answered the mer- 
 chant. "We give our Southern fugitives dinners here. Have 
 no fears ; no one opens this closet but myself." 
 
 He put the key in his pocket. Mr. Lambelle went to his own 
 residence. Mamma Weintze was apprised of the expected arrival, 
 and, during the day, aired and set to rights the secluded little 
 chamber for March. ; she swept the bright carpet, dressed the bed 
 in snowy white, laid the fire herself in the cheerful grate, and 
 placed a dish of fruit upon the table. She even sent out for a 
 
622 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 bouquet of fresh flowers, from her own pocket money, and placed 
 them in a handsome vase beside the fruit. 
 
 " Poor fellow," she said to herself, '* he shall have the welcome 
 of flowers. He came from the land of flowers, among our cold 
 snows. Something gentler than snow shall give joy to his sore 
 heart. Sore heart ? yes, I mean it. I have been among those 
 Southerners ; and there, /had a sore heart : bruised and trampled, 
 till life was nearly gone ; there, my poor old husband was tied to 
 the whipping-post and publicly flogged. There, in Charleston, he 
 was put upon the tread-mill in the workhouse. There, we were 
 robbed of all our honest gains ; stripped to poverty by the very 
 theives who fc-\tten on unpaid labor. And why ? Because my 
 poor old Deiderich did what our Christ would have done. Be- 
 cause he had mercy on a dear, little, prattling girl, pure white and 
 free as the birds, by birth ; a helpless infant, sold into slavery by 
 her own father ! because Deiderich gave her back her birthright — 
 her freedom ! " 
 
 She' raised a corner of her apron to eyes blinded by tears. 
 
 "Yes, this poor fugitive from Southern Algerines shall have 
 flowers. There they are; they will speak to him sweeter words 
 than human voices." 
 
 All was ready. The old woman locked the door and dropped the 
 key into her pocket. 
 
 She descended and busied herself in small offices of which 
 there was no need, but which seemed to make the njinutes slip 
 faster away. 
 
 From room to Foom she went singing in a cracked and wavering 
 voice, snatches of half forgotten German songs. 
 
 The servants rallied her upon this unusual gayety, and asked if 
 her pretty Zaffiri would return from Europe that night ? 
 
 The day wore away ; at nine o'clock a carriage dashed to the 
 door. Two Quakeresses rang the bell and the carriage drove 
 away. INIamma Weintze answered the summons and received her 
 expected friends. 
 
 March felt his pulses throbbing less tumultuous in the precincts 
 of his charming seclusion. His eye became less changeful, his 
 glances less furtive, and his intercourse grew gradually marked 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 623 
 
 by the suavity and dignity of character which he posessed by birth 
 and experience. 
 
 Mr. Lambelle spent an hour or more daily in his retreat. 
 
 " You are in prison yet, my friend, he said fraternally ; on our 
 part, your chains are woven of sympathy and affection. On the 
 part of the United States, its laws and statutes, you are in invol- 
 untary and compulsory incarceration. This city forges the chains 
 for a continuation of your former servitude. They expect youF 
 discovery. Freedom awaits you only in Canada. 
 
 " A monarchy will confer the liberty of which our Republic 
 mockingly boasts. Liberty on American soil is a baseless and 
 delusive dream. Could a true Republic force her children to arti- 
 fice and subterfuge, even to leave its territory that they may obtain 
 the very blessing of Freedom which it denies.? By no means. 
 Better live in Turkey or Algiers, or among barbarians. Keep your 
 prison here for a few months at least, till these blood-thirsty slave- 
 catchers, goaded by the large reward offered for your appreiien- 
 sion, shall have lost all track of their game. It is now February. 
 I think in May it will be safe to move." 
 
 Father Weintze and his old wife found March's chamber ^ an 
 enticing resort. They learned news of their Charleston acquaint- 
 ances ; of the increasing acrimony corroding Southern sentiment, 
 and of the ringing challenges for secession. 
 
 "March," said Father Weintze, " that people grows more bloody 
 and arbitrary every year. They will surely draw destruction upon 
 their own heads, in the end." 
 
 March smiled incredulously. 
 
 " Their high-handed defiance carries all before them ; they have 
 had their own way so far, without rebuke. Their outrages out- 
 numbered the waves of the sea, and none have been able to say. 
 Nay ! " 
 
 " That is so," replied the old man ; " but if there is warning on 
 the pages of history — if there is justice in Heaven, they must 
 settle their black account with some power strong enough to cope 
 with their blind madness. I am old. You may live to see the aw- 
 ful balance-sheet." 
 
 A few days after the return from Washington, Mr. Lambelle 
 
624 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 looked in upon the commissioner, inquiring if he had got upon 
 the track of the South Carolina fugitive. 
 
 " Not yet," was the reply. *• We've ripped up any number of 
 sleeves, and spoiled any number of coats ; not a brand has come 
 to light. That brand fixes him, though. We are sure of captur- 
 ing the fellow. He is probably lurking in Philadelphia. All 
 thoroughfares out of the city will be under strict survilliance." 
 
 " That's a handsome reward, and your experience will make it 
 difficult for the runaway to get past the pickets. Deputize me 
 marshal, as your assitant, if you like ; furnish me the papers con- 
 ferring the proper authority to arrest, and I am at your service. 
 I have pledged myself to his master to look after him. The re- 
 ward shall be yours. I am only fulfilling an obligation of friend- 
 ship to Colonel Haywood, the fellow's owner. He gave me 
 permission to fix him with that," drawing out his Venetian knife, 
 *' if there should not be time for hand-cuffs — so, dead or alive, 
 the twenty-five hundred dollars will be yours. I think I have 
 some opportunities for observation that others may lack." 
 
 *' You are gassing, Lambelle ! I know you are true blue ; that 
 is, all correct on the Constitution and Southern rights ; but gentle- 
 men of your cloth, a merchant of your means, would not soil your 
 gloves handling niggers." 
 
 "I may not soil my gloves, or I may, as the occasion requires. 
 With a commission from you, in my pocket, I can make up a posse 
 at any time or place. But, really, catching slave property should 
 not be beneath anj> cloth, when, par exce//ence, that is the engross- 
 ing business of the nation — when it occupies the august attention 
 of the chief justice on the supreme bench, inferior judges and 
 courts, congress and legislatures." 
 
 " That's so," said the commissioner. " That's the way I reason. 
 Bur, joking aside, do you want a commission, Lambelle ? " 
 
 '• I do ; I have pledged my word to his master to look after the 
 vagabond. The reward shall be yours. I want nothing of the 
 twenty-five hundred. I am only fulfilling an obligation of friend- 
 ship to the fellow's owner, Colonel Haywood, who is in Washing- 
 ton. 
 
 " That kind of arrest, with your knife, there, might answer for 
 his master," replied the commissioner. But our country is not 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 625 
 
 quite up to the bowe-knife as a legal instrument. If this March 
 eludes us, we might substitute another shade of color ; one as 
 black as your coachman, Lambelle, would make as good a slave as 
 the light mulatto in the description. Would Colonel Haywood ob- 
 ject, if he should have returned to him the same value, in another 
 article?" 
 
 " He would object. Identity is the word ; I suspect he is more 
 chagrined at the sharp trick his slave played on him, than at the 
 loss. Probably he has a course of punishment and humiliation 
 prepared for his capture. Identity is the word; that throws the 
 perquisite of twenty-five hundred dollars into doubt." 
 
 '* We get ihe largest pay from the United States," the marshal 
 answered, absently, while filling and signing Mr Lambelle's com- 
 mission. 
 
 •' Hasiiunting proved remunerative the past year, marshal? " 
 
 " Pays better than any other business. The Federal treasury 
 never scrutinizes bills or contests them. There has been more 
 captures this past year, than in sixty years before." 
 
 '' I suppose the cost of returning a fugitive might easily be 
 doubled, and the amount would be forthcoming ? " 
 
 **Yes, 'Uncle Sam' trusts entirely to our bills, as I said. I 
 know of one case of returning five slaves. It cost the old fellow 
 twenty-two thousaiiddollajs, where the expenses were only two thou- 
 sand. So the marshal and posse made twenty thousand dollars 
 out of that little affair. But this is only between you and me, Lam- 
 belle." 
 
 " Certainly, marshal," folding his commission, " you'll hear from 
 me again ; as I said before, I think I have some opportunities for 
 observation that are wanting to others in regard to this March." 
 
 Mr. Lambelle returned to his own counting room, wrote a letter 
 with 'double entendre' to Colonel Haywood, informing him of his 
 investment with authority to arrest fugitives, and of his purpose to 
 look closely after his servant, and send him forward at the earliest 
 
 moment. 
 
 During three months he called often upon the marshal. The 
 blood-chilling secrets of slave-catching and kidnapping were fully 
 confided to him, and he became a secret confederate with others in 
 a series of tactics to ensnare the twenty-five hundred dollar prize. 
 
626 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 May came. Mr. Lambelle's last few visits to the marshal con- 
 vinced him that the hunters had given up hope, and ceased ihe 
 search. 
 
 "Oh! I've no doubt," growled the marshal, "that the pale- 
 livered devil was in Canada before his master advertised. VVe've 
 had our trouble for our pains. However, I'll fasten the expenses 
 on the next chase, and Uncle Sam shall reimburse." 
 
 All this was nightly repeated to March in his agreeable prison. 
 
 " It is safe, now, to depart," said Mr. Lambelle ; and he proceeded 
 to lay before March, the steps to be taken. " I have a coachman 
 near enough to your size, who is black as ebony, with African hair 
 and heavy beard. The people in the city are accustomed to sec 
 him driving me about, either with a pair and the carriage, or to and 
 from my place of business in a single vehicle. I propose to get 
 you up in his likeness with paint and false hair and beard, on the 
 evening of the first steady rain. J\ly coachman will drive me here 
 to my door. He will enter ; you will put on his livery ; he will 
 remain within, and you, jNIarch, will go out to the vehicle as driver. 
 Through the long night we will make our way to the house of an 
 abolitionist friend. During the day, we will sleep. The next 
 night we shall proceed to the next station ; rest there, thus advanc- 
 ing till you are in Canada. David is my coachman. You will 
 answer to his name. 
 
 The former nervous anxiety returned ; anticipation of danger 
 drove the color from March's face and sent a tremor to his limbs. 
 
 " I have no friend to rely upon but you, sir. I should prefer 
 death to returnin2: to mv brother and master." 
 
 " You will do neither," said Father Weinize. " You will make 
 a safe and pleasant journey with our common protector, here. He 
 is our pillar of cloud by day and our pillar of fire by night, and 
 God is over all." 
 
 Kindly Nature soon afforded the rainy night. One David in 
 livery drove Mr. Lambelle to his door, and, in the full glare of the 
 street lamp, another David in livery drove him away. Out of the 
 long line of flaming lamps, out of the dimmer suburbs, out upon 
 the dark, wet, sandy roads they flew. No clamor, cry, or sound 
 excited alarm. Nothing was heard but the beating rain, the quick 
 thud and splash of nimble hoofs, the flop of the rubber cover on 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 627 
 
 the horse, and the dripping wheels. Nothing was seen but the 
 darkness. Not a word was uttered but the brief directions — " To 
 the right ! " " To the left ! " " Hold up " or " Go ahead ! " and, 
 finally, " Pass me the lines, David." 
 
 Before the sun rose, horse and travelers were welcomed under 
 the calm, brooding roofs of a villa ever opened to the oppressed. 
 They slept in quiet chambers to the spring song of birds and under 
 the wary watch of sentinels below. 
 
 The second night was a repetition of the first, in speed, silence, 
 and safety. One addidonal sentence cheered the way. 
 
 " Towards the North ^tar, David," pointing with the whip for 
 an index. 
 
 The second day, they rested in the cheery, red farm-house of Mr. 
 Snow, Filette's father. The were fed, literally, on milk and honey, 
 while hidden from mischievous eyes. The hearty, patriarchal wel- 
 come, the loving, maternal solicitude, the Christian sympathy that 
 weeps with those that weep, and rejoices with those that rejoice, 
 were the treasures of this household. In this atmosphere, March 
 felt the shackles of slavery slipping off. His hitherto suppressed 
 manhood rose and broadened ; his courage was braced and his 
 freedom dawned. 
 
 " Stay, my friend," plead Mr. Snow, " a couple of days ; rest 
 and refresh yourselves — sleep amidst orchard blooms; visit my 
 barns, inspect my stock, smell the sweet mows of hay, and learn 
 how a New England farmer lives. Then, Mr. Lambelle if you 
 must return, take the third morning's sun and ride leisurely back, 
 among spring buds and breezes. I will take David on to Cloud- 
 spire, the second night, with a lively-stepping thorough-bred. TU 
 be conductor between this place and the next. I know every inch 
 of the track. 1 11 put David safely in the hands of Mr. Link. He 
 is agent for the Underground Railroad from that station ; and, 
 David, you can never be in better hands than his. Mr. Link has 
 the nature of a lamb with the courage of a lion. He's as gentle as 
 a child, but he never knew fear in a just cause. Isn't that so, Mr. 
 Lambelle?" 
 
 "Precisely," replied Mr. Lambelle, warmly. "I reckon Mr. 
 Link among^my cherished friends." 
 
 " Then I must take my farewell of you here, sir," said March to 
 
628 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE, 
 
 Mr. Lambelle, gazing at him intently through dimming sight, as 
 if to photograph every feature of his well-tried friend upon his 
 memory. 
 
 " Not a farewell, March, I trust, if life continues. I have 
 formed a deep affection for you, and shall seek you out in Canada 
 at the earliest opportunity. That opportunity may not occur 
 within two years ; so keep me informed of your doings and where- 
 abouts. My wife is in Europe. When she returns we shall settle 
 in Canada. I may do business in New York, or I may make a 
 transfer to Montreal. Then, March, I shall want you as a part of 
 my family. By the way, you should have a new name. There is 
 no further use for David, and March is dangerous." 
 
 " I think so, sir." 
 
 " Suppose then you take Paul for the first and our host's name 
 for the last ? Paul Snow ; how is that ? " 
 
 "I like it, sir." 
 
 At nine o'clock of the second night, Paul Snow and Farmer 
 Snow, after much rearing and dancing on the part of " Thorough- 
 bred," and multiplied good wishes on the part of Mrs. Snow and 
 Mr. Lambelle, darted out of the yard upon the Cloudspire road. 
 
 After a two mile heat, Paul remarked, — 
 
 "I think this horse must be a Southerner; he is sufficiently fiery 
 and hard on the bit." 
 
 " No," said the farmer with a laugh, " he's not a blue-blood. 
 He's a Northerner : fiery, resolute, tractable and enduring ; quali- 
 ties which most of our Northern men possess, and which would 
 make their hue and cry about secession as useless as a broken 
 dog-whistle. This secession is a great bug-bear. I only wish 
 they'd try it once ! " said the farmer, in a tone of the deepest 
 scorn. 
 
 ''I think they will, sir." 
 
 "Let it come," replied Mr. Snow, severely. The sooner they 
 feel the weight of the Northern arm the better. Like the blows of 
 an iron sledge it will grind them to powder." 
 
 In a lower tone, he advised to drop conversation. 
 
 The hours rolled on as all hours will, whether mingled with joy, 
 or weighted with fear. 
 
 In the dim uncertainty of morning, w'hile Cloudspire yet slept, 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 629 
 
 Mr. Snow reined " Thoroughbred " into Mr. Link's spacious 
 shed. 
 
 " This town is wide awake on the Constitution, Paul," said the 
 farmer. "They're patriots to country, and traitors to humanity. 
 They're a choice pack of hounds on a man's track. They'd hunt 
 you down quick. They lack one quality, however — that is con- 
 science J so they can't know you are here. It's as dark as a 
 pocket in this deep shed. Mr. Link has just struck a light. 
 Thoroughbred is as wet as if he had escaped from Pharoah, out of 
 the Red Sea." 
 
 "I expect he has, sir, escaped from Pharoah. Will it injure him 
 sir ? " asked Paul. 
 
 " Not a whit ! we all have to sweat in search for Liberty, in 
 this Republic. There comes the good man out of his kitchen 
 door." 
 
 Mr. Link came into the shed, saying in a genial voice, — 
 
 " I heard the buggy drive into the dark here ; I cannot rightly 
 welcome my friends. Will you go in ? " 
 
 "lam Filette's father — my name is Snow, from Connecticut. 
 The other is my brother, Paul. Take him in, my friend, to a pri- 
 vate room where he will explain. I must ride over to George's, 
 before the neighbors get routed. Will make you a call this after- 
 noon." 
 
 Mr. Snow rode quickly away. 
 
 Mr. Link and Paul entered the house. 
 
 Mr. Link turned the key, and by the candle-light scanned his 
 newly-arrived guest. 
 
 " Oh ! I see," said he, grasping Paul's hand, " I guess you're a 
 brother to me as well as Mr. Snow. It will be best to put out 
 this light. Just follow me up stairs to your chamber, and there we 
 will hold some conversation." 
 
 " Are you on your way to Canada ? " inquired the host. 
 
 "I am, sir ; and was assured that you were the slaver's helper, 
 and would take me the rest of the distance. I conjure you, sir, 
 by the love you bear the common Father, to do this." 
 
 " Right ! I can do it without the least danger, and I wzV/. Throw 
 every fear to the winds. I know several different routes, and to 
 assure you still further, I prepared for these night journeys the 
 
630 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 very year the Fugitive Slave Act passed Congress. I am a drover ; 
 may be they have told you. I travel all over the two States between 
 here and Canada. Well, I said to myself, I don't think I could 
 serve the Lord better than to spy out an untried way to Canada for 
 these hunted ones, and about three families where I can stop and 
 sleep days, in security. 
 
 " So I set to work buying cattle and laying a track. I found 
 three small farmers among the mountains who would shelter the 
 fleeing bondman at the peril of their lives. Their humble dwell- 
 ings are a night's ride apart. To each one I gave a strong limbed 
 horse, both for their use and for mine; — for mine, when a swift 
 night-ride over mountains and rough roads makes a change of 
 horses necessary. These horses are always ready, fleet and strong. 
 None w'ill molest or make you afraid. I have traveled this road 
 five times up and down the mountains, along the deep valleys, by 
 the foaming, rocky water-courses, through miles of silent over- 
 shadowing forests, without an obstacle or a startling sound. I have 
 made haste to inform you of this, that your tantalized and buffeted 
 spirit may be relieved of the torturing uncertainty incident to 
 secret routes and a trust in strangers. Sleep, now, my hunted 
 brother; there is your bed. Take what the Lord gives to his 
 beloved — Sleep. There is light in the east. Lock yourself in. 
 1 will go as usual to my barns." 
 
 T 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 HREE years slowly passed, from the time of Zafliri's swift 
 flight from the home in New York, and from the encircling 
 aftection of her husband. Three yeais slowly passed ; not only 
 for the lonely fugiti"'e, making her nest of safety among the valleys 
 of the Alps, or in picturesque villas under Italian skies, but to those 
 others of darker skin, whose escape from chains and cruelty caused 
 them to be hunted in the Free States on American soil ; and whose 
 hunters, endowed with greater sagacity and keener scent than the 
 Southern bloodhound, seldom failed of their prey. 
 
 After his wife's departure, Mr. Lambelle, desirous of retaining 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 63 1 
 
 Zaffiri's abode in the order of her arrangement, the most sacred 
 memorial of her rare taste and precious affection, called back Papa 
 and'Mamma Weintze to its luxurious comfort. He charged the 
 kind-hearted old lady, whom h,e made his househeeper, with instruc- 
 tions to preserve the interior, furniture, pictures, books and orna- 
 ments, precisely as they were left at the compulsory exile of its 
 mistress. 
 
 In the haste and grief of leavetaking, an embroidered handker- 
 chief, and a small pair of gloves were left upon the table of her 
 room. They were there still, speaking the silent language of 
 remembrance. A cluster of violets and tea roses, which she had 
 worn in her wheaten hair the last evening, had fallen from it during 
 the tearful, despairing promenade to and fro on the arm of her 
 husband, in the limited extent of her chamber, during packing. She 
 had tossed these, unconsciously, upon her reading table, among the 
 books. Faded and withered, they remained just where they had 
 dropped from her hand. The affection of her husband had shel- 
 tered it from dust and the profane touch by a bell-shaped glass. 
 
 He had made one journey to Europe in the meantime ; had hur- 
 ried across France, regardless of scenes and objects of interest, 
 occupied only with the inspiring expectation of meeting and hold- 
 ing to his heart the one beloved being of his life. 
 
 Zaffiri had awaited her husband's arrival at Florence. There she 
 learned from his lips occurrences and signs of the times immedi- 
 ately concerning their happiness and welfare, v/hich had never been 
 committed to paper in their correspondence, lest in contingences of 
 travel their carefully guarded secret should be exposed. 
 
 Together with Mary, whom Zaffiri had learned to love as a sister, 
 they wandered about the romantic environs of this Italian cit}'^ of 
 painting and sculpture, beholding fresh beauty everywhere. 
 
 "My dear Claude," said his wife, leaning upon his arm, and fix- 
 ing the idolatory of her blue eyes, swimming in tears, upon his 
 face, " My dear Claude, with you by my side, my taste for the beau- 
 tiful in Art and Nature returns. Your presence is like a golden 
 dawn, which gilds and permeates every object with its glory. With- 
 out you, Claude, the master-pieces Raphael, Titian or Angelo are 
 meaningless and lack-lustred. Separated so far from you, the most 
 striking pieces of sculpture seem but dead forms of the past. If 
 
C32 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 vour Zaffiri had been banished to the sterile deserts and snows of 
 Siberia, by the autocratic fiat of Russia, her fate could not have 
 been more rigorous ; for the alleviation and repose of mind \\iiich 
 only mitigate this exile are thoughts of you, my husbad, of your 
 unchanging devotion, and of my own happy home. These mem- 
 ories would make Russian banishment as endurable as Italy." 
 
 " It is two years since your fl'ght, Zaffiri." 
 
 " Two long years," she repeated. " Has not the South at last 
 grown apathetic in the pursuit of her fugitives ? " 
 
 " No, my darling ; more ferocious instead. The first year after 
 the passage of the bill, it is computed that the man-hunters cap- 
 tured more slaves than they had done in sixty years before. The 
 implacable chase extends even to kidnapping the free. I have 
 been thinking we might make our home in our American Siberia." 
 
 " in Canada, dear Claude ? that is not far from New Vork. 
 How much time must intervene before I can return there .'* " 
 
 "I think one more year in Europe will be best, Zaffiri — one 
 year from this spring. Then the Canadian summer will make it 
 more endurable for you, my tender lily, although thousands and 
 thousands have made it their refuge from chains and cruelty, during 
 the severest rigors of a Northern winter, scantily clothed and half 
 famished — a Siberia, indeed, to them." 
 
 They were wandering leisurel}'- up the eminence Fiesole ; and, 
 having reached the summit, they were seated in the enchanting 
 view of Florence and the vale of Arno. 
 
 " Oh, Claude ! " exclaimed Zaffiri, joining her hands and bowing 
 her head on them, "what attraction can this resplendent scene 
 have for me, when I reflect upon the persecution and want of that 
 vast number who threw off their shackles in the same way I did ? 
 I am no better than they. I am filled with pity and dismay. How 
 long, O Lord ! how long' will this suffering continue .'* " 
 
 '• Be calm, my dear Zaffiri ! there is an Arm that rights wrong. 
 The South is laying a mine under its own feet. In some way, it 
 must entomb their homes and hopes. Trust and wait, my exile ! " 
 
 " Till my life ends ? " she sobbed. 
 
 " I believe not. The South is resolved on forcing a disunion, 
 either by the catastrophe of secession, or a separation by common 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 633 
 
 consent. We shall see when the crisis comes. Zdi^ri, it will come ! 
 Listen ! I have something to disclose to you of Papa VVeintze and 
 Southern eifrontery." 
 
 " What can have happened to him, Claude ? Has he not suf- 
 fered enough, already ?"> 
 
 " You know the long distance between my store and our dwell - 
 ing. The old man was going to the house. A Charlestonian 
 who formerly knew him, met him on the walk. He accosted Papa 
 Weintze, rudely. 
 
 '' Hallo, old gray-headed thief ! old Weintze, the slave-stealer ! 
 How came you in New York? Where's the ' Evening Star' you 
 hustled away to the North ? It will be safer to inform where she 
 is, than to guard the secret. I saw you tied to the whipping-post, 
 in Charleston —your punishment was deserved. We'll have whip- 
 ping-posts planted in the North, yet. Congress will plant them, 
 and pay expenses. Uncle Sam will pay the whippers. Come, 
 now, Where's ' Evening Star ? ' Own up, old Dutchman, or you'll 
 
 regret it. 
 
 " I'll call the police ! " said Papa Weintze, " if you continue this 
 abuse. I've had enough of Southern pirates in their own dens. I 
 demand peace in the North ! " and walked away. 
 
 I was not in the city. Weintze had charge of the store, and 
 came home late. When he arrived near the spot of the morning's 
 onset, he was felled to the pavement by an unknown hand, first 
 hearing the words, — 
 
 " ' Call the police, now, slare-stealer ! ' " 
 
 "The dear, old father!" ejaculated Zaffiri. "In the street! 
 helpless, old, and infirm ! Who cared for him, Claude } " 
 
 " Policemen found him lying there, took him to the station-house ; 
 and, by morning, he was able to be carried home, where I found 
 him the next day, in bed. He did not go out for a week. They 
 have not forgotten ' Evening Star ! ' Canada will be our secured 
 home. One year from this time, all shall be ready for my young, 
 proud, blue-blooded wife." 
 
 This was spoken with merriment and laughter so contagious, 
 that Zaffiri and Mary joined heartily in the rippling melody. 
 
 Together, they passed on to Rome — thence to Naples ; there, 
 
634 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 in evening strolls by the star-spangled waters of the magnificent 
 bay, they reviewed their early love, cemented then, as now, by the 
 appealing friendliness of the beautiful slav^e-girl. 
 
 Mr. Lambelle returned to New York ; and, at the time of the 
 commencement of this chapter, that three years of Zaffiri's exile 
 had nearly passed. She was still in Europe. He was to depart 
 on the morrow for Canada, to prepare a residence for the reunion 
 of his family. A note was placed in his hand by a messenger from 
 Hotel. This note was signed " Frederick Warham,"' solicit- 
 ing an early interview with Mr. Lambelle, on business of impor- 
 tance. A thrill of surprise disturbed his equanimity for a few 
 moments. However, at the appropriate hour, he was ushered into 
 the private apartment of the Carolinian. 
 
 Courtesy and cordiality characterized the reception. The Rev. 
 Fred reclined upon a bed. He was pale and wasted by sickness. 
 The servant placed a chair at the bedside for the visitor, and was 
 then bidden to retire. Left alone, Frederick Warham turned his 
 hollow eyes to ]\Ir. Lambelle, and said in an enfeebled voice, — 
 
 "1 have just returned from Europe. I am going home to die — 
 to morrow, I take passage for Charleston. I went abroad, in the 
 hope of restoring my failing health. It was in vain. 1 have 
 steadily declined. Whether this increasing weakness arises from 
 the fatigue of the voyage, or whether it is the final yielding of 
 Natures forces, I cannot judge. I desire to complete one act, 
 before essaying the trying journey to Carolina. In doing this, I 
 wish to secure you as aid and confidait. Am I asking too great a 
 favor, sir ? " 
 
 " By no means. Inform me of your pleasure. It will be mine. 
 yVllow me to pour for you a small draught of wine, before proceed- 
 ing." 
 
 The invalid drank it with a look of gratitude, and continued, 
 as if he feared even then the thread of life might break. 
 
 " I have three slaves, Mr. Lambelle, which I wish to manumit 
 before my dissolution. I ask that it be done under your eye, as 
 witness ; and that you retain in your keeping a duplicate of the 
 instrument, in case accident or chicanery should destroy the other. 
 There is reason in this. Our people South have come to the deter- 
 mination that no free colored shall be tolerated in slave territory. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 635 
 
 Those who are already free, must either be driven out, or be re- 
 duced to the yoke of bondage. Thus it is plain, my friend, that 
 opposition may arise to this bestowal of freedom." 
 
 He hesitated, as if in perplexity. His thin fingers sought the 
 hand of his auditor. 
 
 "You are a man," he said. "I can lay bare to your sight the 
 dearest secret of my life. These three slaves are wife and chil- 
 dren to me. Minnie, the mother, is a quadroon, of rare and won- 
 derful beauty. I have never married. She was the choice of my 
 soul ; and she is still the strong tie that would bind me to earth. 
 I hope to die in her arms. My last look must rest on her beloved 
 face. I have not freed her, because ownership was the only legal 
 bond between us. My happiness was, and is enwrapped in hers ; 
 therefore, I have deferred her freedom till the present ; for to me, 
 that word seemed to mean separation. Now the hour has come — 
 if it be delayed, my beloved Minnie will be mercilessly sold with 
 my plantation slaves. And my boys ! my God ! what will become 
 of them ? " 
 
 In his excitement, he had risen from his pillow ; but he sank 
 back, groaning under the weight of the terrible thought. 
 
 " Would it not be best to send for the attorney immediately ? " 
 suggested Mr. Lambelle. " You will feel relieved when this bur- 
 den shall have been rolled from the mind." 
 
 " Let it be done." he replied. " Send my servant, sir. The at- 
 torney has had warning ; the papers will be ready, except my sig- 
 nature, and witness. While he is gone I have further explanation 
 for 3'our ear. I desire Minnie and my boys to take up their resi- 
 dence in Canada." 
 
 Mr. Lambelle replied quickly, — 
 
 "I will meet her and the children upon their arrival in New 
 York, upon receiving the proper information of her departure from 
 Carolina. I will personally attend them to Canada. Consider the 
 matter settled, my friend, and take a few moments rest before the 
 attorney enters." 
 
 In an hour's time duplicates of the manumission and will were 
 executed, signed, sealed, and placed in the possession of their re- 
 spective holders — Mr. Lambelle and Frederick Warham. 
 
 Mr. Lambelle insisted upon tarrying through the night, to the 
 
636 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 great gratification of the invalid. He administered an opiate, 
 kindly enjoined silence, and seated himself by the couch to watch 
 the recuperation of exhausted strength. 
 
 Most wonderfully had the springs of thought been set in motion 
 by this unexpected incident, in the mind of the watcher. ' Most 
 rapidly and noiselessly they worked, making no index for exterior 
 observation. 
 
 "What is this mine eyes have seeti ?" said an inner voice, " but 
 the amalgamation so decried by the Southerner ? I have never seen 
 its counterpart in the North, either in wedlock, or out of it. What 
 defiant mockery is the Southern cry of amalgamation, to those who 
 would righteously loosen fetters and let the captive go free ! Ah ! 
 this shame and derision hurled at the North are the tricks of harle- 
 quins. The South plays the harlequin dexterously ! Her sweet 
 and gentle affections are linked with the loves of her slaves. Yet 
 all have not the abiding, faithful heart of this sleeper ! His beauti- 
 ful and beloved Minnie is his first and last thou^^ht, waking: or 
 sleeping. Hark ! he calls her now ! " 
 
 The restless invalid murmured. 
 
 " Minnie ! darling ! come, kiss me ere I go." After a little time, 
 he whispered hoarsely, " Free, Minnie, Free ! Farewell ! " 
 
 Claude Lambelle's sympathetic nature yearned towards his suffer- 
 ing charge — the brother of Zafiiri by blood. Tears, manly and 
 Christ-like, dropped from his eyes. He longed to tell Fred Warham 
 a brother's hand was smoothing his pillow; and that in Zaffiri, a 
 sister's love would embrace his precious Minnie, and soothe her 
 widowed grief. Too late now ! Once, it would have been danger- 
 ous to her. — now it would be dangerous to hi77iy to confide the awful 
 truth. 
 
 " Thank God there will be no fugitives in Heaven ! " he mur- 
 mured with a sigh. 
 
 The awakening was favorable. Strength had returned. The 
 pulses throbbed calmly. The flame of life burned less fitfully. 
 
 " I am a new man under your care ! " said Fred. " You have 
 attended me with the assiduity of a brother ! Ten thousand thanks. 
 I cannot requite my obligations." » 
 
 " Accept all as the spontaneous offerings of a brother's love, with- 
 out obligations ; that will set us both right," replied Mr. Lambelle. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 637 
 
 Fred Warham turned conversation again to the engrossing sub- 
 ject of Minnie and his children, 
 
 " I shall will them," he said, and through the same attorney, 
 twenty thousand dollars — ten thousand for dear Minnie, and five 
 thousand a-piece for my boys. May I ask that this dower be_ con- 
 signed to your care, in trust for them ; that you take charge of its in- 
 vestment; my ]Minnie cannot at present manage monetary affairs." 
 
 " I shall be most happy to gratify any wish of yours ; not only 
 for the friendship and respect I bear you, but on behalf of the 
 esteem and regard of my wife, which she first conceived for you 
 in St. Louis, and has cherished ever since." 
 
 "Your wife! your lovely and angelic Zaffiri!" 
 
 A smile irradiated-the wan features. " In health, courtesy would 
 have dictated a mention of her first, and would have dilated upon 
 the extreme pleasure I experienced in meeting her in Europe at 
 the summit of 'Weissenstein,' where I was staying for the fresh air, 
 and the ' cure de petit lait ' — goats whey, recommended for invalids. 
 She was accompanied by a traveling compannion, a nun-like lady 
 whom she called Mary. Afterwards, during last winter, they found 
 me in Naples, where they both tended me like Sister's of Charity. 
 I should have mentioned' this before ; for, believe me, sir, my heart 
 is filled with the grateful remembrance. But conversation fatigues 
 me, and I suppose she has written you the particulars."^ 
 
 " She has done so, with many expressions of grief for your 
 
 malady." 
 
 " It was at her suggestion that I repose this trust in you, sir. 
 She knows I am to free some slaves; but understands nothing of 
 our relations. She is to spend the summer in Canada. I wished 
 to engage her sympathy in dear Minnie's sorrows ; but I could not 
 venture the attempt to interest an accomplished and high-bred lady 
 in th^ fortune of a slave. And yet, from Zaffiri's sisterly watchings 
 with me, I was half convinced that she would condescend to love 
 and pity Minnie, for my sake. 
 
 " Minnie will be a stranger in this great city, and a stranger in 
 Canada. Alone, and without my protection, she will be like a 
 frightened dove, driven from the cote." 
 
 " Would it be a satisfaction to have Minnie attached to our 
 family, sir?" questioned Mr. Lambelle. 
 
^ 
 
 638 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " Not as a menial, my friend. She has been reared tenderly, 
 and will have means to rise above low labor. I think she would 
 delight to engage in the capacity of dressing-maid, or housekeeper, 
 under the eye of Zaffiri." 
 
 ''Mr. Warham, my dear friend, you misapprehend my intent. 
 ]\rinnie will be free to choose for herself. She might prefer some 
 light offices ; but I spoke more especially in reference to her com- 
 panionship for my wife. Her little Italian servant, Cossetina, has 
 married a young Italian and made a home in her native land. Mary, 
 her traveling companion, has friends in New England, and will re- 
 turn to them. Minnie and her two children would- engage Zaffiri's 
 attention and love." 
 
 " That will be most asrreeable," said Fred. 
 
 "Then, I beseech you to lay aside every anxious thought for the 
 happiness of her v;ho has been to you lover and wife. Do not 
 diminish further the physical strength you need so much for the 
 remainder of the journey." 
 
 Mr. Lambelle accompanied Fred to the steamer, supporting him 
 at every step. He bore him, in his arms, up the long gang-way, 
 and placed him in a hammock, swung on deck, which he had per- 
 sonally ordered as a surprise. He had sent aboard the rarest 
 wines, and most delicious fruits New York afforded. He remained 
 by the hammock with cheerful and encouraging words, till the sten- 
 torian " All Aboard ! " warned him to depart. 
 
 The all-absorbing subject came to Fred's lips. 
 
 " Tell you lovely Zaffiri that I have loved Minnie ; perhaps she 
 will deign to love her, also." 
 
 In the hurry and din of loosing from the qua}^ amidst painful 
 thoughts, struggling with dissembled cheerfulness, they took their 
 last farewell. 
 
 The devoted husband turned his steps quickly towards Montreal, 
 where he was soon to meet his still exiled wife. With the aid of 
 March Haywood, alias Paul Snow, summoned to his assistance, a 
 gray stone house, in the Upper Town, was furnished with Aladdin- 
 like celerity. Luxurious comfort, and expensive elegance adorned 
 its apartments. Spacious, and almost palatial, it v/as well adapted 
 to the generous hospitality anticipated by its occupants. Paul was 
 installed generalissima of the establishment, and bore his honors 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 39 
 
 with the affable dignity of his high-born nature Ckude passed 
 one month of undisturbed domestic enjoyment with Zathri, ana 
 
 "t'c l^fZ^n'oi the second month brought him back with 
 Mhinieand the children. Zaffiri received her with open arms ; 
 
 ve the distance of caste between them was gently, bat rigidly 
 
 Wintainel by Minnie. She delighted in serving the distress as 
 
 het rmed z'affiri, never venturing the P-'7 ^'f '"", \,„^^' ^ 
 
 would dress the long, fair hair ; the l=;"P°'^^°f,.^f ^^f* ^ ,'„V™" it 
 waken to a gleaming admiration, while plaitmg and arranging 
 
 "'h her bSful boys, radiant with childish glee, made their w.y 
 it f ^^ ^^f ""■''.., ;,' u ^^ettv ladv " who welcomed them with 
 kifsefanrboni: s innie'ld! in', begging pardon, and smilingly 
 withdrew them, lest they should trespass upon the lady s pleasure 
 
 This oatient and humble deference disquieted Zaffii i. Mie iongea 
 
 ,o b H i^Minnie nearer to her own heart. She longed to break that 
 
 as^fetfe^of bondage which had not been included in Minme s 
 
 d'e'd' of " eldom. Ihe longed to dash away the -PO Caste w^^^^^^ 
 
 Minnie had so ™eek|^ P-ente to - ;ps. She -^'e the resoU_e. 
 
 X^:SvT"Hl^he'b:r™r:llgttTittle Frld Warham, who stepped 
 
 into the room with the air of a prince. 
 
 °Ah I Zaffiri's little page will call mamma," she said k ndly. 
 
 In a few moments, Minnie and Zaffiri were seated together. 
 
 "Banish Sam dear Minnie ! I am going to shorten this caste 
 distance vvhtfheiists between us. It would be cruel to maintain 
 ft TdavC o-er I've a secret to break to your astonished ear. 
 Minn£^y four Carolina marriage with Frederick Warham, I - 
 Zvour — sister Frederick Waiham was »y ^r^J//«-/ 
 
 A~slrange, inquiring look was the only reply. Amazement al- 
 most paralyzed Minnie. 
 
640 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " It is true," repeated Zaffiri ; " and here I will prove the rela- 
 tion which surely binds us to a mutual affection. I am, moreover, 
 a slave, Minnie. You are free ! I am still in bondage by the laws 
 of our Republic — subject to the snares of its man-hunters ; if iden- 
 tified in the States, I could be taken back in irons to Charleston, to 
 serve a master the rest of my life ! " 
 
 Minnie roused at last, threw her arms about her, and said ten- 
 derly, — 
 
 " Oh, no, dear lady ! You have been seized with sudden ill- 
 ness ! your reason is affected ! take your bed, and allow me to call 
 a physician ! " 
 
 "No, Minnie ; my brain is not turned.^ I know whereof I speak. 
 The story is long — listen, and you will believe." 
 
 Zaffiri took up the thread of her narrative, gave the proofs of her 
 birth, sale, flight through the aid of Father Weintze, the purchase 
 of her old nurse in New Orleans ; nor did she give up the clew, till 
 she had traced it to the certainty of her affirmation. 
 
 " Minnie, do you doubt my sanity, now .<* " she asked, weeping 
 tears of ano^uish at the remembrance of her wrono:s. '* Do vou 
 doubt the relationship between Fred Warham and myself — that 
 we were brother and sister .'* You were his wife, Minnie; am I not 
 sister to you, also.? " 
 
 "I cannot doubt it, dear lady." 
 
 " Hush, Minnie ! do not address me with that subservient title. 
 The difference between us is but in complexion, and you are more 
 beautiful than I. Come to the mirror, Alinnie. Let that decide." 
 
 With one arm around her waist, Zaffiri drew her unwilling steps 
 before a full length glass, saying, — 
 
 " Look up, Minnie. Your rich brown color gives me a sickly 
 pallor. Your jet black curls make my pale hair look faded. The 
 deep damask of your cheeks and lips give mine a half-ripened ap- 
 pearance. And my eyes! like shaded wood violets! How do 
 they compare with the tropical softness of yours ! so dark, velvety 
 brown. Minnie, you are a living picture to me. No marvel that 
 Fred Warham loved you ! And, if he loved you, cannot // Can- 
 not I love my brother's children } Are they not my nephews by 
 consanguinity 1 Teach them to call me auntie, and teach yourself 
 to call me Zaffiri. Give me a sister's love." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 64 1 
 
 " My dear Fred knew nothing of this, or he would have confided 
 in me ! " exclaimed Minnie. 
 
 " He knew nothing ; we dared not trust a Southerner with my 
 liberty. We will make future amends for that distrust of Fred, to 
 you, dear Minnie, and to his children." 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 TN July, Zaffiri gave Paul carte blanche for furnishing other 
 chambers and making festive preparations for a New England 
 house-warming, early in August. She explained to him that the 
 intent of the phrase was a merry-making by the friends of a family 
 who enter a new house. 
 
 " Cause the upholsterer to copy the red and blue rooms," she 
 said ; "the rest I leave to your care. Have a supervision over all, 
 Paul, and I shall be content." 
 
 Mary spent most of the following day with Zafhri, in the seclu- 
 sion of her chamber. Both were busy with their needles, consult- 
 ing chiefly upon Mary's future. 
 
 " So, after the reunion and hilarity of the house-warming, you 
 will leave me, Mary. After three years of travel and closest inti- 
 macy, I shall miss you more than words can express ; and yet, if I 
 knew you were to change the loneliness of your long widowhood 
 for the companionship offered you, I could see you depart with a 
 degree of satisfaction." 
 
 " You have the same desire for my marriage with Mr. Link, that 
 Filette and George have expressed without reserve in their corre- 
 spondence with me during the last year. But, my dear ZafBri, I 
 ask you if a companionship without love could be more desirable 
 than that of one's ordinary friends ? " 
 
 "Without love! Mary.? Those words have a doubtful import. 
 You certainly hold Mr. Link in highest esteem for his long- tried 
 integrity, for his Christian sympathy with the suffering and op- 
 pressed, and for his persistent, unselfish interest in Thad. Esteem 
 easily ripens into that quality of love which must distinguish your 
 age and his. You could never feel again the romantic, half bewil- 
 
642 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 dering sentiment once cherished for your first and only youthful 
 lover, James Buddington." 
 
 At the mention of that name, Mary's mournful eyes dropped. 
 
 "My poor, murdered James!" she ejaculated. "So ignomini- 
 ously murdered ! My life's happiness was buried in his grave." 
 Her misty vision and trembling fingers refused guidance to the 
 needle. "Oh! it seems sacrilege — like breaking vows to consent 
 to a second marriage." 
 
 " Mary, far be it from me to reccommend any course to you 
 which could cast a shadow of unfaithfulness upon the memory of 
 James. You could not, if you would, yield to Mr. Link the affec- 
 tion betowed on him. Mr. Link would not ask it. He asks only 
 that you share his house, its luxuries and comforts; that you give 
 to him what your bruised heart has to offer of friendship and re- 
 gard. He asks the privilege and right by marriage to brighten 
 your sad life by a love which we all know is devotion itself. He 
 does not require what you cannot confer. Reflect, Mary, what he 
 has done for you already. 
 
 " He has built a stylish, commodious house, he has had his 
 grounds laid out under the eye of a gardener, its parterres, fragrant 
 with flowers, await your coming ; he has planted rare shrubs and 
 shade trees. Besides, he has purchased an elegant carriage, the 
 finest in town. I am sure he would not have made these prepara- 
 tions without the encouragement of George and Filette. They 
 judge it would be better attained in a home of your own encircled 
 by the deep and unobtrusive love of Mr. Link, than by a contiu- 
 ance in their numerous and noisy family of children." 
 
 •' I do need and desire quiet for the remainder of my life, 
 Zaffi;i ; but I must not seek it in forbidden places." 
 
 " W'hv is the beautiful home of Mr. Link forbidden, Marv ? It 
 seemed to me that his letter to you offering himself and his pos- 
 sessions, was a scroll let down from the skies by a Divine hand, 
 presenring to your tortured spirit an asylum of sweet peace and 
 content. Vviiere is that letter, Mary.? Let us read it together. 
 Let my pleading be secondary to his." 
 
 Mary left the room, smiling at Zafiiri's tenacity — and returning 
 gave the letter to her friend, who said cheerfully, — 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 643 
 
 " Leave the sewing, Mary, listen while I read." 
 
 " Cloiidspire, Mass,, Jjine 30, 185 — 
 
 "Mrs. Mary BuDDiNGTON, — My Dear Friend, — If this letter and its 
 object prove an unliappy intrusion upon your attention, I here at the commence- 
 ment, beg pardon ; a favor which I beh'eve will be kindly granted, I will write 
 without ambiguity; for I do not think the love one bears another on earth 
 necessitates hesitation or evasion. I have discovered, during our years of social 
 intercourse, and especially during your long absence in Europe, the gentle, but 
 unyielding sway you unconsciously hold over my hopes and happiness. 
 
 " Thoughts of you mingle with all my purposes — thoughts of our possible 
 future companionship ; thoughts of your dear presence in my house, at my 
 lonely table, and among my garden walks. Unworthy as I am, 1 venture to 
 offer you, dear Mary, all these with my first and undivided affections. 1 have 
 thought that domestic interests in what was your own — in the oversight of a 
 quiet h«me — your health and some degree of lighted-hearted enjoyment might 
 return to your grieved life. 
 
 " My sister expresses her attachment to you, and should the crowning wish 
 of my desolate manhood be realized, she will welcome your coming with a glad- 
 some and tender affection. 
 
 "I have no more to write, but I close this letter with a painful distrust of 
 consequences. Take time, dear Mary, to reflect. I shall come to Montreal 
 with the party of friends in August. Then 1 will learn from your lips, the con- 
 clusion. Your will shall be mine. 
 
 " I am yours with deepest respect. 
 
 " SiiMON Link." 
 
 " There Mar}'-," said Zaffiri, "is not that letter beautiful, tender, 
 and considerate t We all love Mr. Link, why should not you .? 
 My Claude loves him, and will have his company in New York, 
 weeks at a time. He says we have never had a more gentlemanly 
 guest in our house. What ! grateful tears ? As I told you. Es- 
 teem and gratitude, then love. Mary, do not hesitate longer. 
 Decide to-day, and let us talk over preparations ; allow me to write 
 Filette to-morrow, of your consent that Mr. Link may make one 
 delightful journey to Canada." 
 
 " How can I take off this mourning which I have worn for so 
 many years, Zaffiri t " 
 
 " Dress in gray and white, Mary, for the rest of your days. 
 Gray and white are simplicity itself ; at all events if you remain 
 single, I should advise you to relinquish those sombre externals 
 you have worn so long. I believe you are already decided in Mr. 
 Link's favor. Confess at once. Let me be happy. Let Claude 
 
644 WHITE MAY, AND ELACK JUNE. 
 
 and I arrange the wedding here with all our friends present. 
 Claude and I will stand with you at the ceremony, and you shall 
 go back from Europe to your own charming home." 
 
 She threw her work upon the carpet and knelt before Mary, fix 
 ing her blue eyes upon her, gleaming with sunny light. 
 
 " Be married here for my sake," she plead, " on the last day of 
 the house-warming. Minnie and I will make you a lovely bride. 
 Let Claude do something for you, who have done so much for 
 me." 
 
 She drew the thoughtful brow down to her lips and whispered, — 
 
 '' Take this golden cup that Heaven offers. Two separate con- 
 genial lives will blend in one. Shall it be so, Mary ?" 
 
 "Itshall be so, Zaffiri." 
 
 " Shall Mr. Link receive his life's best gift here in the house of 
 the exile, Mary? " 
 
 "If it please you, blessed one." 
 
 " Shall I write to Filette, to-morrow ? " 
 
 "You may write." 
 
 The first week in August filled the gray stone house with affec- 
 tionate greetings and festive cheer. George and Filette, Richard 
 and Lucy, Mr. and Mrs. Sterlingworth, and Mr. Link, saw again 
 their beloved ideal of womanhood, their model of refined elegance, 
 and their per.onification of angelic charity. Zafliiri saw again her 
 tried friends endeared by mutual sufferings and participated joys. 
 Queen of her drawing-rooms, and attending minutely to the ease 
 and enjoyment of her guests, she was the admiration of all. 
 
 There was much to be revealed by hostess and guests. The 
 progress of Freedom from the standpoint of each was rehearsed. 
 Zaffiri's experiences aboad were narrated. Minnie and her chil- 
 dren were presented, she as " My sister^'' and the two boys as " My 
 nephews*^ "from South Carolina ; and the chain of events which 
 brought the sisters together was minutely traced. 
 
 Zaffiri's friends listened with an intensity of interest one oi\^^ 
 to the strangest romance. At the recital by Mr. LambelleTC»xiis 
 interview with Fred Warham in New York, in which that South- 
 erner's love for Minnie was so frankly confessed and in which he 
 so nobly complied with the demands of Justice in arranging for 
 her future, tender tears fell with Minnie's, to the memory of such 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 645 
 
 rare virtues in one who had proven himself her true husband and 
 protector. 
 
 Zaffiri produced the locket containing an exquisite likeness of 
 Fred, and presented to her as a souvenir of himself in Italy. 
 
 "It was painted in Paris by a distinguished artist," said ZafSri ; 
 " and the locket itself, is an exquisite work of art. That diamond 
 setting must have been very costly. 
 
 " What do you think my friends/' she continued, " when Minnie 
 came to us from dear Fred's grave, she drew from her bosom, 
 where she wore it concealed, the exact counterpart of my locket, 
 with the same likeness and diamond setting." 
 
 " Minnie removed the chain of her own from her neck, opened 
 it, and gazed upon the fine features with reverent affection. Tear 
 drops quivered on her silken lashes ; she raised the dear face to 
 her lips, and passed it to Mrs. Sterlingworth, for comparison with 
 the other. Heads were eagerly grouped over both lockets, held 
 side by side in Fanny's hands, 
 
 " Precisely alike, Mrs. Warham," said Mr. Sterlingworth to 
 Minnie ;_" you can have no better evidence of Mr. Warham 's re- 
 spectful and sincere attachment to yourself, than this likeness of 
 which Madame Lambelle's is an exact copy. By this delicate act 
 he placed you on equality with a lady whose superior we think we 
 have never met among our Anglo-Saxon acquaintances." 
 
 " I entertain, sir," replied Minnie, sadly, " the sentiment ex- 
 pressed by the similarity of these two precious souvenirs ; but in 
 all my life at ' Breezy Bluff,' I was never made to feel the least 
 degree of inferiority, however just that infliction might have been. 
 Contrary to the legislation for slaves, I was in childhood taught to 
 read and write. Mr. Warham read with me the works in his 
 library ; and his correspondence with me by letter, although under 
 cover, was as free and confiding as it would have been with any 
 lady of the land. I was not surprised, therefore, that my locket 
 equaled dear Zaffiri's, in beauty and expense." 
 
 ' "^Q you know, Minnie, other instances of the Southerners 
 attachment to slaves, as marked as yours ? " questioned Filette. 
 
 " They are very common, Mrs. Buddington ; but cruelty and 
 affection are strangely mingled. The slave-holder is often reck- 
 less in the management of his estates, and a spendthrift. A slave 
 
646 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 wife has no means to build up her master's fortune, and he turns 
 to the surest resources. To accomplish this, he must deliver up 
 the dark woman he really loves, to the slave-trader. She is hur- 
 ried from her handsomely-furnished apartments, from the kindest 
 attentions, from the fondest caresses, to the nearest auction, and 
 sold in the incongruous lot ; her pretty and petted children going 
 one way, and she, broken hearted, going another." 
 
 Every woman's heart around Minnie uttered a long, simulta- 
 neous moan. Filette asked, — 
 
 " What am I to understand by your words, ' the surest re- 
 sources? ' " 
 
 "That from the wealthy ladies of the South, or North, he mar- 
 ries a white wife, who will bring to him a fortune. I had a sister, 
 fairer than I am, who was the slave-wife of a young blue- blood in 
 Savannah. He idolized her. He called her his sultana, and 
 dressed her like one. He secretly wore a curl of her hair in a 
 locket. They had two or three beautiful children. He lived too 
 fast, and lost his fortune. 
 
 " One day, he gave Isabel (that was my sister's name) and the 
 children, a pass to go to Charleston to visit some of her acquaint- 
 ances. There she was sold with her children, while Mr. Denteile 
 was on his way North, to marry a rich Philadelphian. That was 
 the last I knew of Isabel. I think she must have died of a broken 
 heart. Major Denteile now has a son, who about three years since 
 married a rich Northern young lady, from Indiana. They were 
 wintering in Washington. Augustus Denteile was captivated with 
 her at the President's levee. She was the belle of Washington. 
 Fred said she was very beautiful, and that it was a true love mar- 
 riage. Augustus did not follow the example of his father." 
 
 " Do you know, ladies and gentlemen," said Mr. Lanibelle, " I 
 attended those same nuptials. '' that I ivas bridesman at the cere- 
 mony, with an extremely blue-blooded lady of South Carolina as 
 bridesmaid, a INIiss Fairland, of the estate with the high-sounding 
 name, * Le Grand Palais? ' Furthermore, I yielded to ihe plead- 
 ing of pretty May and her lover, by accompanying them to Savan- 
 nah with ]Miss Fairland." 
 
 Amidst general laughter and clapping of hands, the parlors 
 echoed with " No ! No ! No I " 
 
WHITE MAYj AND BLACK JUNE. 647 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! " replied Zaffiri ; " and Claude says if I had not 
 carried his heart away to Italy, it might have been stolen by this 
 same irresistible maiden." 
 
 " I should say that was a dangerous journey into the lion's lair 
 for an abolitionist of the first water," exclaimed George Budding- 
 ton. 
 
 " But I had my protecting angel along with me, you under- 
 stand." 
 
 " Not the angel of the Lord, Mr. Lambelle," said Lucy. " Miss 
 Fairland is endowed with the opposite qualities. I think I have 
 never witnessed such supercilious contempt of others, such arro- 
 gance of bearing, as those Fairlands manifest. They seem to rise 
 on their exorbitant claims to rank and power, as on pinions above 
 the rest of humanity. Never in my experience have I met with 
 such hearts of stone as those two ladies seemed to possess, while 
 I was at ' Le Grand Palais.' " 
 
 " I agree with you, Mrs. Beame, that I was not conducted by the 
 angel of the Lord ; but this angel was the best the South affords. 
 Had she known the character of her companion, however, she 
 would have hurled me into the lacerating teeth of those same roar- 
 ing lions that everywhere fanned at my feet; but I came forth 
 from that den of dead men's bones with safety, basking in the 
 smiles of my enchantress." 
 
 " That bit of romance in Miss Fairland's life would have been 
 sublimely humiliating, could she have known that her exclusive 
 graces were lavished upon a friend of universal freedom — an 
 aider and abettor of fugitives, and a chief share holder of the 
 Underground Railroad," said Mr. Buddington. 
 
 "I declare it is delightful," laughed Fanny. "Miss Fairland 
 ought to know it." 
 
 " She ought ! " reiterated all, in a lively burst of merriment. 
 
 " Not yet, my friends ! " explained Mr. Lambelle. " I have sev- 
 eral high-handed games to play in the sunny South ; and, if those 
 Southerners understood the address and artifice that I wear as an 
 armor among them, they would tear me in pieces with red hot pin- 
 cers. One might as well fall into the hands of the Spanish Inqui- 
 sition, as to fail into the hands of one's own fellow-citizens, in this 
 Republic." 
 
648 WHITE MAY, AND CLACK JUNE. 
 
 " That is too true ! " observed Richard, sorrowfully. " I have 
 experienced the tender mercies of my fellow-citizens." 
 
 The sharp irony of Richard's "tender mercies '* roused various 
 trains of harrowing recolleclions. Memory was castin^^ her spec- 
 tral shadows over the happy party, enshrouding, more especially, 
 George Buddington and Mary. 
 
 Zaffiri, watchful for the happiness of her guests, perceived the 
 wave of gloom that had suddenly rolled in upon them, and adroitly 
 turned back conversation to its former animated flow. 
 
 She related some humorous incidents of her last voyage from 
 Europe, illustrating the " foolishness of the wise." 
 
 '•There were," she said, "on board two Southerners, with their 
 families; Colonel Haywood, wife and children, of South Carolina, 
 also Mr. Sillton, wife and son, from Mississippi. The Haywoods 
 usually grouped themselves with the Silltons, as Southerners prefer 
 to associate with Southerners. Mrs. Haywood, a cold, haughty 
 lady, bestowed her condescensions chiefly upon Mrs. Sillton, al- 
 though I was graciously included in her distribution of social 
 favors. There were also on board two passengers, Mr. Vassano 
 and his daughter, Marie, whose acquaintance I had previously 
 made. They were from Philadelphia, and of colored lineage. 
 Possessing well-bred and accomplished manners, they made a wel- 
 come part of the social circle. The father was often sought in 
 conversation by the Southerners. 
 
 "Once, I sat near Colonel Haywood, who was conversing flip- 
 pantly with these two passengers on Southern prospects, Southern 
 wrongs, and the cotton interest. The father and daughter, who 
 had never denied their extraction from the despised race, gave me 
 a covert smile, unobserved by others, signifying the ludicrousness 
 of the interview. The conversation turned upon negroes and the 
 certainty with which the slightest taint of African blood can be 
 detected. 
 
 " ' I assure you,' said Colonel Haywood to Mr. Vassano, ' I can 
 tell a nigger anywhere, if he is as white as I am. There is an indi- 
 cation in the pupil of the eye that is always reliable.' 
 
 " ' I have never learned that test,' replied Mr. Vassano, lifting 
 his eyes full upon him. ' I have always found sufficient evidence 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 649 
 
 of color in the skin and hair j ' closing his remark with a laugh, in 
 which his daughter joined. 
 
 "At the dancing hour, the officers of the steamer vied with each 
 other in obtaining the hand of the sparkling and handsome Miss 
 Vassano. Twice, the colonel gallantly offered himself to Marie, 
 and was graciously accepted. Mr. Sillton led Mrs. Haywood upon 
 the floor. On one of these occasions, I offered my hand to her 
 father, and had for my partner a gentleman more distingue than 
 Colonel Haywood. The fancy of the hour was cotillions. We 
 were all in the Southern set ; the basket cotillion was proposed, 
 At the point where hands were locked and arms intertwined, weav- 
 ing us all into a human wreath — Colonel Haywood and Marie 
 Vassano, Mr. Sillton and Mrs. Haywood, the captain and Mrs. 
 Sillton, Mr. Vassano and myself, I mentally christened the dance 
 the ^ JS quality Cotillion.^ 
 
 "I caught the sparkling eye of Marie. I understood its electric 
 telegraphy flashed back to mine. It read, ^ Behold my triujjiph over 
 Caste /^ Her rich charms were aglow and enhanced by the tasteful 
 elegance of her attire. She glided about like a fairy, the centre of 
 admiration, and, by general applause, the finest dancer aboard. 
 Often joining me in the secresy of my state-room, she was forced 
 to muffle with her handkerchief her immoderate laughty at the 
 ludicrous mistakes of this American Caste. The echo of Marie 
 Vassano's derisive laughter filled Zaffiri's parlors with uncontroll- 
 able mirth." 
 
 " Well, well ! " ejaculated Mr. Sterlingworth, " there are some 
 features of oppression enjoyable. Who can appreciate them bet- 
 ter than we, advocates of the unpopular Anti-Slavery Reform 1 " 
 
 " Mr. Vassano's family," explained Claude, "are as well edu- 
 cated as any Southerner's. His wealth is abundant. Libraries 
 and works of art adorn his home, which is one of the stations of 
 the Underground Railroad. He was free born in the South, has 
 taken a collegiate course in New England, and is an eloquent 
 speaker. The proof of his information on our political issues is 
 the repeated satisfactory conversations which Colonel Haywood 
 held with him, on the passage. The best qualities of many bloods 
 filtered into his veins — Moorish, English, Jewish, African, and 
 
•650 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Southern. His noble manhood is the ripe perfection of this strange 
 miscegenation." 
 
 The reader has seen that the imperious Colonel Haywood had 
 really no prejudice against color. His love of Flora and Charlotte 
 both disproves the antipathy and contempt which constantly as- 
 sailed the Northern ear. This boasted scorn of color was only a 
 manufactured gall, dropped upon the Northern tongue by South- 
 ern sorcery, that it might become infused through the whole system; 
 that it might embitter and perv^ert the Northern moral and religious 
 nature. This boasted scorn of color was like the ink bag of the 
 cuttle-fish ; in its turbid cloud the slave-holder forever swam, lest 
 the eye of God should find him. The virulence of disdain towards 
 African descent, assumed by the oppressor, was the blot by which 
 he rendered illegible the Scripture passages, *' God is no respecter 
 of persons," and " He hath made, of one blood, the nations of 
 men." 
 
 Three days yet remained of the house-warming. Another unex- 
 pected arrival was a surprise to Zaffiri and Mary. Alfy stepped 
 into the circle, embracing his mother with the devotion of a lover. 
 Mary held him from her proudly, and scanned his dear face affec- 
 tionately. 
 
 " Alfy, «my blue-eyed boy," she said, "3'ou have grown superb. 
 More than three years of manhood have fallen upon you, during 
 my absence ; but are you well? your skin is fair as a lily, and your 
 eyes are like two spring violets. You have not the bronze of 
 health, my farmer-lad ! " 
 
 " I have renounced agriculture, my dear mother," replied Alfy, 
 with some pride. 
 
 " Then I have been much deceived. With whose consent ? Tell 
 me all about it." 
 
 She drew him down beside her, retaining one soft, fair hand in 
 hers, while her admiring eyes overflowed with gladness. 
 
 " Mother, I have come to explain, and to ask forgiveness, if my 
 course shall prove an offense. You know I most earnestly desired 
 to pursue the law, but our circumstances forbade the attempt. 
 After your departure, Mr. Link proposed to defray the expense of 
 a course at the Law School at Harvard ; and lest this generosity 
 should seem to place you under disagreeable obligations, he insisted 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 65 1 
 
 that you should be kept in absolute ignorance. Uncle George, 
 Doctor Clarendon, and Richard advised acceptance. I have grad- 
 uated with the usual honors, have been admitted to the bar, and 
 am now attorney-at-law in the office of an old, experienced lawyer 
 of Boston. This partnership was procured through the kind offices 
 of Uncle George. This lawyer is a friend of his." 
 
 " How was your wardrobe supplied, dear boy ? " 
 
 " By Mr. Link, entirely. He insisted ; and I was clothed in as 
 fine style as any student there. My room was attractively furnished ; 
 and he himself came to Harvard twice a year, passing a week on 
 each occasion. I divided the summer vacations with him and Aunt 
 Filette, in Cloudspire. My father could not have shown more lib- 
 erality. Mr. Link said to me wdth deep emotion, — 
 
 " Alfy, I do this for your dear murdered father's sake. I have 
 no children. I have means, and they are yours. Now, my dear 
 mother, I have come as in childhood, to receive your rebuke, or 
 your blessing. I have obtained a profession without your sanction, 
 and by means without your approval." 
 
 " Your profession, Alfy, should be one of your choice ; one in 
 which your youthful hopes and ambition will be successful. It 
 seems to me that the law is not a healthy educator in morals, or in 
 the love of justice. You, my son, w-ill not frame the laws ; but 
 you will be the advocate and interpreter of statutes, many of which 
 are tyranical and unjust. My fear is that in the clemency and 
 equality we so much revere, the acumen of your righteous judg- 
 ment may become blunted. Rather than witness this change in 
 my Alfy, I should prefer to feel your hands calloused and bronzed 
 by the farmer's honest toil, and to see your fair face roughly tanned 
 by the sun and winds of a laborer's life." 
 
 A shadow fell upon Alfy's bright face at this imagination of 
 distrust. 
 
 '' I adjure you, mother, the best and' dearest of all others, to trust 
 my integrity ; and consider what events move me to array my ef- 
 forts on the side of justice. The ignominious scourging to his 
 death, of a tender father! Our cruel bereavement — the forced 
 dependence of our helpless years ! Add to these your faithful 
 teachings, which time can never efface, and trust your Alfy for the 
 result." 
 
652 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " Then you have my blessing and my proud anticipation of your 
 future success." 
 
 " What has Mr. Link, dear mother ? " 
 
 "The beneficent foster-father of both my boys has my truest 
 gratitude." 
 
 "Nothing more?" he inquired, with a troubled light in his ten- 
 der eyes. 
 
 " Dear Alfy, my answer has been made to Mr. Link;" a faint 
 blush reddening her pale cheek. 
 
 Still doubtful o( the accomplishment of his heart's most earnest 
 wish, he asked timidly. 
 
 "Shall you go home with Aunt Filette, mother? " 
 
 Mary hesitated, kissed the hand still in her possession, and re- 
 plied, — 
 
 " Alfy, your mother will go home with Mr. Link." 
 
 The morning of the last day of the reunion in Canada was a 
 happy one to Zaffiri's whole household. Alfy and Paul, who quickly 
 became the best of friends, made the parlors and halls redolent 
 with floral beauty and perfume. The table of Mary's wedding gifts 
 was laden profusely with remembrances from the Clarendons, Mrs. 
 Beame, the Glenlys, and from the " Green Valley " in Cloudspire ; 
 there was a costly memento from Mr. and Mrs. Snow, and from 
 others of her Connecticut neighbors, as well as from the Budding- 
 tons and Thad. Alfy desired the privilege ot giving his mother 
 away, in the English marriage service, which had been chosen for 
 the occasion. Mr. Buddington indulgently consented. 
 
 At eleven o'clock, the whole household and numerous guests 
 were gathered in the parlors. Every eye lighted with pleasure and 
 admiration, when Mary entered upon the arm of Alfy, followed by 
 Mr. Link and Filette. 
 
 The marriage ceremony being concluded, and the ring being 
 placed upon Mary's finger, amidst the congratulations Alfy said to 
 Mr. Link, — 
 
 " For your unexampled kindness to me, I have transferred to you 
 my entire earthly possession — my adored mother." 
 
 In a voice tremulous with joy, Mr. Link replied, — 
 
 " Alfy, your debt is doubly repaid." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 653 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 PENNSYLVANIA, sublime in its Apalachian mountain ranges 
 arand in the wild barbaric career ot its untamed rivers to the 
 sea picmresque in the mingling of nationalities about her varied 
 indusSes fed- by the wealth of her natural resources, is beauti ul 
 a"so in the pastoral attractions of green valleys, whose secluded 
 
 roveliness wLld seem to exclude the -P"!-^-'^,'^"^^: "cti™ 
 by ambition, covetousness, poverty, power, and political chicanery 
 
 in and about metropolitan centres. _ rhanted 
 
 To one of these charming valleys, an idyl in itself, and chanted 
 bv a poe°'s lyre, our readers are invited. Cultivation in rising 
 sweUs extended up the sides of the two ranges on either hana 
 nea ly to the bizarre outlines of their summits clearly cut against 
 The summer sky, so that this vale of verdure had the appearance 
 of an e^emld carpet suspended from parallel rows of peaks, and 
 : abesque wfth garden, grove, corn-field and copp.ce ; sprink ed 
 with abodes of plenty, spires, hamlets and towns. Through the 
 a of this valley rolled the sparkling Susquehanna; a tide of 
 animated voices /rom dwellers and pleasure-seekers mingled with 
 bird-carols and the happy low of well-kept herds. , , ■ , 
 
 In one of its towns, a stylish hotel welcomed and entertained 
 commercial travelers, ^nd the swarms of romantic visitors who 
 yerrrflutter from place to place, like butterflies dallying vvnth the 
 rarest sweets that Nature offers in sky and landscape. The pro- 
 pr etor Jf th s caravansera understood the tastes and desires of h^s 
 suests and never wearied in acceding to their caprices Many of 
 fhe waiters, stable-men, and other superumeranes returned yea 
 af'eryear to fill their posts under his considerate authority, with 
 the pleasure one finds in returning to an old friend. 
 
 In the season of which we write, the same of the reunion of the 
 friends of the exiles in Canada, a new hostler was added to the 
 servants" corps of the hostlery. He was rough, burly, and tanned 
 to the hue of many of the colored waiters in the dining-room. His 
 hair was coarse and unkempt ; his eye was wary and sullen, lighted 
 
654 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 only by gleams of dangerous cunning ; his physiognomy was mas- 
 sive and rude, like the face of a statue blocked out and unfinished. 
 He wore a tarpaulin, rings in his ears, and loose pantaloons, nearly 
 covering his huge slippered feet. He had the salt phrases and 
 swing of a seaman ; yet this hermaphrodite sailor, calling " yho ! 
 heave ho ! " to the horses, performed his stable duties with such 
 punctilio of skill and dispatch as commended him to entire appro- 
 val. He was a picturesque object about the premises, attracting 
 the attention of the guests. 
 
 Among the waiters was one mulatto, who drew, unconsciously, 
 upon himself the general admiration. He had a fine, clear color, 
 silken hair in curls, was of medium height, of an erect, muscular, 
 and well-developed' figure. His elastic step moved directly upon 
 his purpose, in attending with unflagging zeal upon the varied de- 
 mands of those whom he served. He never misunderstood, or 
 made mistakes at the crowded tables ; and his placid equanimity 
 of temper, and his unremitting efforts to please, conquered the 
 most petulant and irascible. The gentlemen said among them- 
 selves, *' He's an obliging fellow ; " and the ladies, in their table- 
 gossip, said of him, " Oh ! isn't he delightful ! I haven't had a 
 cold steak nor an overdone egg from his hands since my arri- 
 val." 
 
 ''He never makes you wait till you are out of all patience," 
 added a second. 
 
 "And he never puts on airs," remarked a third. " I declare he's 
 splendid." 
 
 The habit of the new hostler was not gregarious ; he conversed 
 more with his horses than with his own species. The limited utter- 
 ance in which he indulged, extended only to the white servants. 
 The last days of July saw a change in this moody stranger, from 
 reticence to a degree of sociability extending to the colored wait 
 ers. His favors "were more especially bestowed upon the mulatto 
 waiter, of whom we have spoken. He hovered about him as vari- 
 ous opportunities offered, after the work of the day was over, and 
 invited him to the stables to inspect some fine animals, recently 
 purchased. 
 
 He seemed to suffer from depression, saying to the waiter, — 
 
 " I should like to be of your color — then my work might be 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 655 
 
 appreciated — here I get only curses. Your praise is in every- 
 body 's mouth." 
 
 " You wouldn't care to be of my color, ' Lem,' if you knew how 
 my race is persecuted, hunted and despised." 
 
 *' I don't see it," replied Lem. '' I hear everywhere, ' Mark does 
 this, and Mark does that. I gave him a dollar — and I gave him 
 five, and I don't begrudge it.' I should like to be hunted that 
 way." 
 
 " You wouldn't like to be seized and carried South into slavery, 
 if you'd been a slave and got into the Free States, would you, 
 Lem.? Here, only last week, a black woman, up on the mountain, 
 was taken out of her bed at night, and carried off somewhere, 
 nobody knows where, into slavery, by a Southerner that called him- 
 self her master and an officer." 
 
 " Good God ! " ejaculated Lem. " You are not afraid of being 
 carried off, are you .<* Was you ever a slave ? " 
 
 " I'm not afraid," replied Mark. " I've had my free papers a 
 good many years. I'm a free man." 
 
 " That's good ! " replied Lem. " Good-bye to the Southerners 
 now! who set you free, Mark.? Some kind-hearted person, with 
 feelings. Such a person, I guess, don't live in the South. It's my 
 opinion they're all hard-hearted rascals." 
 
 Really, Mark's sympathies were awakened for this ugly waif of a 
 hostler ; but a deep fount of gratitude welled up to his lips at Lem's 
 designation of his benefactress, as a kind-hearted person, with 
 feelings. He did not let the opportunity escape of acknowledging 
 his never-ceasing indebtedness for. the freedom and manhood he 
 had so long enjoyed, and which was legally secure to him. He 
 said, — 
 
 "Yes, Lem, a kind-hearted person freed me — a lady. She did 
 it of her own free will ; because, as you say, she had feelings. My 
 papers were made out South. She is North now. Her name was 
 Mrs. William Steele. She gave me her maiden name, Claren- 
 don." 
 
 " So your name is Mark Clarendon ? " inquired Lem. 
 
 " No ! my name is Marquis Clarendon." 
 
 " What was her first name, Mark ? " 
 
 "Lucy — Lucy Clarendon, before marriage. I know it's Lucy, 
 
656 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 because it's on my free papers, and because she writes me once a 
 year to inquire for me and my family." 
 
 " It's a great thing to be free," said Lem. " Where does this 
 woman live ? " 
 
 " In Massachusetts — in the town of Cloudspire." 
 
 Lem took off his tarpaulin with one hand, and scratched his 
 head with the other, slapped on his hat again, and ejaculated, — 
 
 "Mark, I know that woman — I know her family. I have lived 
 in Cloudspire. Have you seen her since .'' Have you ever been in 
 that town ? " 
 
 "You know Mrs. William Steele, the lady that freed me? It 
 cannot be possible. No, I have not seen her since the day we 
 parted, in New York ; but I could fall on my knees this moment, 
 and thank her for giving me myself, — to walk this earth without a 
 master, to labor where I choose, and to possess my own earnings." 
 
 " Well, she's the same now as when you knew her. She's a 
 friend of mine. I've staid many a week at the doctor's — Doctor 
 Clarendon's, I mean. They are all abolitionists. There's another 
 family there that I stay with a great deal — the Buddingtons — 
 that's my home where I stop when I'm there. I've helped 'em to 
 carry ten runaway slaves to Canada. Strange, that you and I both 
 know those people, Mark ! " 
 
 " They were sitting on the steps, at the end of a long row of 
 kitchens and store-rooms. Lem stood up on his huge slippered 
 feet, about to go. 
 
 " I want to inquire about them," said Mark. " Come up to my 
 room to-morrow night, Lem. This is the best news I've had this 
 long time." 
 
 "I'll come, if I can get away from that stable." A foxy gleam 
 shot from his eyes, but its aim was not towards Mark. "I'll tell ye, 
 Mark, I want to see your free papers, so I can tell Lucy I've seen 
 them, when I go back to see 'em this fall. Have you got 'em in 
 your trunk ? " 
 
 " Yes, Lem ; I carry them wherever I go. Be sure and come 
 up.- You shall see my deed of myseif." 
 
 Lem went to the barn, and Mark to his dining-rooms. 
 
 Less than a week after, Lem came to i\Iark in a tumult of vexa- 
 tion, inquiring the names of those two men who arrived last night. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 657 
 
 «Thev have been out to the barn, looking at the horses and 
 iney "^^^..^'''''' ^^ v ^ i •„ .he reo-ister, Mark, and tell me 
 thev treat me like a dog. -L,ook in cne rc^isi^ , ^^ 
 
 this mSntog U b,«k(a.t. Bat III M *"' =«-' ■' >»" ■>•»" 
 
 tothefloor For a moment he was bhnded. ^^^^ ^ ^^^_^ 
 
 Mfheld ;rthe^floor. '^ HeC° d their fierce, and hurried voices,- 
 
 H"e"LTn":"thr'o;'rise. One was already fastened 
 
 "■'ffis'^braTn deared With superhuman strength he tore himself 
 His bram cieareu. yvxi i;, . knocking his assailants 
 
 Thpv rau<^ht him by his clothes. ±ie leic uicm m 
 
 riar d upon\Tm, and pistols brandished about h>m He st.U 
 Lghtwi?h the courage and strength of^a ho. 
 
 coherent ^l^^] ,?V'^l':^,-„ ,,\:l, v^sZt the nigger !"" Pre- 
 nr^o7krer "fouthe™ assassins!" mingled wuh the 
 screams ^f servants and ladies in a demoniac symphony, filled the 
 ■ hall and rang out into the streets. j 
 
 Above this diabolical jargon, floated ^fnst of a terrible combat 
 mellow voice, like the torn colors in the midst of a terrible 
 
 " Death or Victory ! " , ,, „„ j „f ,1,0 hall shouted 
 
 Half a dozen voices from the other end of the hall snou 
 
 cheerino^ly,^"" 
 
 L^tlere^d^t s^lrdS'lnd closing it behind him, barred 
 
658 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 it with his body. In a flash, a stranger's iron grasp hurled him 
 headlong upon the floor, and opened the door. Mark, panting, 
 bleeding, nearly naked, rushed through, like a deer — bounded to 
 the river, and plunged in. Neek deep, and facing the shore, he 
 awaited his pursuers. On they came, Haywood, Fairland, and the 
 deputy-marshal. On came the crowd, men, women, and children ; 
 clerks, drivers and mechanics. Emotions of every kind moved 
 the crowd — anger, pity, fear and horror. 
 
 "Fellow-citizens," said Colonol Haywood, "I am pursuing a 
 course of right and justice. That negro is my slave — I have 
 owned him for years. By the laws of the United States he is my 
 property. His name here, is Marquis Clarendon." 
 
 He took from his pocket the papers legally prepared for his ar- 
 rest, and read them aloud to the by-standers. 
 
 "He escaped from ' Vaucluse,' my plantation in South Carolina, 
 in 1 85 1. He waited upon me in my boyhood. I took him to 
 France with me, and brought him back. Fellow-citizens " 
 
 At this point, cries of " No ! no ! no ! not fellow-citizens with 
 Southern assassins ! " made an unpleasant interruption. Colonel 
 Haywood hesitated. He looked round upon the burning indigna- 
 tion that seemed ready to fall upon himself and companions, and 
 was awed. But he heard the words, — 
 
 " Go on ! you're right ! " 
 
 Several gentlemen approached him with hats raised, with bows, 
 and subservient smiles. Thus encouraged, he continued, — 
 
 "That negro is my property. Mine by the Bible, mine by the 
 Constitution, that unmistakable guaranty of Southern Rights ! " 
 
 A growl of disgust and warning was his answer. 
 
 "Lem," called Mark, "Go to my trunk, and bring my free pa- 
 pers. Let the people read for themselves ! " 
 
 " Go ! " said Fairland, in a low tone. 
 
 Lem ran back to the hotel with the alacrity a dog shows his 
 master. He returned immediately, shouting before he reached the 
 shore in his harsh voice, — 
 
 " No free papers there ! No free papers there ! " 
 
 His answer was an exasperated growl from the spectators in one 
 voice, — 
 
 ''Stolen! Stolen! Stolen!'' 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 659 
 
 Mark raised his arms to the sky in despair, moaning the words 
 
 water and thundered, — ^^ 
 
 ::8re m':^«^::;rsarMark. "I can carry two or three 
 
 '".'^CotageT Mark ! stay where you are - "shouted the crowd. 
 
 "Fire ! " liowled Haywood through his teeth 
 
 Fairiand and Haywood f charged their revolve s at^tl.rst^^^^ 
 gering victim. From his forehead fell a showe ot f" ' 
 b^Ltt^^r^^^^^o^^ t 'lo^ng lines on the 
 
 "indications not to be misunderstood warned the hunters to look 
 for their own safety. They withdrew for a conference. Lem fol- 
 
 '°"tlonel Haywood," f^^l'dfeLeTofV^e "^'rn^erTap- 
 tfttt '^fS S? )^^icTnion is stronger than X;ncle 
 Sam, here! Where's that devil s free papers ^^.^^ 
 
 ,:^-\^^%^^'^^'<^^ "-^' ---'^ -' 
 
 ^'>"m rXtf-^eTaidto Lem -lighted another match set the 
 papers in fames, threw them blazing upon the ground, and ground 
 their ashes into the soil, with his boot -apturing that black 
 
 wo;L"id\rtwo''Si'i:^t;k,rm^'he luntain up 
 
 ^°" No> chimed in the deputy-marshal swinging his club to and 
 
 -ajtdy:?:;- s r? takH £^Ti^rs.^ 
 
 "ke's safe now in my ^^f'f ^^^/.'i,, ^,^3^ over- 
 
 Fairland, "and I'm remunerated^ for the loss 01 ix 
 
 seer Bill Steele's time, years ago. 
 
66o WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " More than remunerated," said Haywood. Those two chil- 
 dren will more than compensate you for the loss of Rachel's 
 labor." 
 
 "We took that woman in the night, sir," ventured Lem to Hay- 
 wood. " If we lose Mark, can't I hunt you up another nigger in 
 some other place .<* " 
 
 "I don't intend to pay you fifty dollars for this job!" replied 
 Colonel Haywood sourly. " Go away from here, secure me an- 
 other, and you shall have a hundred. Deputy, do you hear ? put 
 a hundred dollars for Lem into the bill against the United States 
 Treasury, when this hostler here secures me another." 
 
 " I shall do so, sir," replied the marshal. ^' On that condition 
 had we not better leave this place ! their eyes glare on us like 
 tigers." 
 
 " Not tigers," resumed Fairland. " Like panthers — they fear 
 our revolvers. They are only waiting to trap us by stealthiness." 
 
 Colonel Haywood turned hi's eyes to the shore and ejaculated 
 with unmitigated rage, — 
 
 " Damn him ! he's come out of the water. Let us see ! " 
 
 '' He lies -on the ground ! " said the marshal ; " he has come out 
 to die. Dead niggers are not wanted South." 
 
 " No ! they are raising him up and putting on pants. I'll have 
 him yet. Come on, marshal." 
 
 They rushed back to the almost dying man, and presented 
 their revolvers. In a twinkling he was in the river again at his 
 former depth. 
 
 " I'll die here," he said faintly. 
 
 The ruffians dared not send another bullet after him. Affairs 
 grew ominous ; hurrying groups went up the street and returned. 
 Other groups whispered with rapid gesticulation ; threatening 
 glances flashed on the posse. The three bandits strode off to the 
 hotel, and when the supper-gong sounded they had absconded, 
 with Lem added to their number. 
 
 Marquis, pallid, bloody, and haggard, waved his arm to his 
 friends on shore, to retire. They understood, and slowly left him, 
 lingering till he waded round a bend of the river, and was hidden 
 from view. 
 
 About the middle of the afternoon, when the glorious sunlight 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 66 1 
 
 was cradled in that beautiful valley, its sheeny splendor reflected 
 from river and swell, while a shuddering horror still shook the 
 hearts of those who had witnessed that brigand raid of the morn- 
 ing upon the life and liberty of a citizen, while the Susquehanna 
 was bearing its crimson stains far down its babbling channel, while 
 the blood-hounds were turning back to their kennels, Marquis lay 
 insensible upon the ground in a corn-field, into which he had 
 dragged himself, and fallen. 
 
 How long he had been there no one knew, but as the merciful 
 God ordered, three good Samaritans entered the field at the same 
 time, but in opposite directions. Each recognized the other as 
 having been at the river bank. 
 
 One was the stranger who had hurled Lem Hamm from the 
 door at the hotel — young and finely dressed. The second was a 
 middle-aged mechanic, and the third was a neatly-clad colored 
 man, quite black. 
 
 " Have you seen any trace of him ? " said the stranger to the 
 black man who was coming up from the river. 
 
 " I'm on his track now, sir. Here's blood on the corn and the 
 
 ground." 
 
 They traced the clue together and found him. The other, the 
 mechanic, came up from the road ; they gazed with dismay upon 
 the wreck of Marquis, lying between the corn hills. His fine hair 
 was stiff with gore and sand ; a red pool had dripped from his 
 wounded shoulder to the ground by his side. He had on no shirt, 
 and the hand-cuff lield its grip on his right wrist. Dark red, con- 
 gealed spots were in his ears, his eyes, and at the corners of his 
 mouth. 
 
 " Does he breathe ? " asked the mechanic. " My God, what a 
 sight! I wish those wolves would secede to-morrow." I'd volun- 
 teer to give them back blood for blood." _ ^ 
 
 The stranger was on his knees, pressing his hand on Marquis 
 breast, and taking his pulse. 
 
 " He was a handsome fellow," he murmured. 
 
 " Is he alive, sir ? " asked the black, respectfully. 
 
 "Yes* he breathes, and his pulse beats faintly; but we must 
 work fast. How far are we from the hotel? " 
 
 " A mile, sir." 
 
662 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " Listen, both ! I am a physician. I have brought wine and 
 medicine and other necessary things. Raise his head gently, while 
 I put this flask to his lips — there — he swallowed. Where can we 
 conceal him, and, at the same time dress his wounds ? Will any 
 one shelter and protect this poor body ? " 
 
 The black answered, — 
 
 " I have got a room ready in that old German house, way up 
 through the grove," pointing to a remarkably large building with a 
 steep, mossy roof, with clapboards hanging by rusty nails, and with 
 here and there a paneless window boarded up. " The people are 
 white. The man is an old miner who has been hurt in the mines 
 and gets his living here on the land, as best he can. They are 
 English ; they do not treat us like Americans." 
 
 "My name is 'The Surgeon,'" said the stranger. "What is 
 yours ? " 
 
 " King, sir," answered the black man. 
 
 " What is yours .'' turning to the other. 
 
 " Lee, sir." 
 
 " Right," said The Surgeon. **Now, Lee and King, support his 
 shoulders. I will carry his legs ; go through the woods." 
 
 They entered, by the direction of King, a spacious unused cham- 
 ber, in as ruinous condition as the venerable house. The kind- 
 hearted wife of the English miner had swept the broken floor and 
 brushed away the webs and dust of years. An old oaken bedstead, 
 left in the corner, was supplied with a fresh straw mattress and 
 bed-clothing brought by King. Mark remained insensible ; the 
 miner tenderly lifted the arm which hung over the bed, to which 
 the locked handcuff clung. 
 
 "That wrist is broken," said The Surgeon. "The hand-cuff 
 must be taken off by some means." 
 
 " I will do that," said the old miner. I have worked in iron." 
 
 His wife brought in some old white pieces for the wounds, and 
 went to the bedside. Drying her eyes with her apron, she said, 
 compassionately, — 
 
 "I think our good English Queen, our good Victoria, would 
 weep to see one of her poor subjects bruised and murdered like 
 this." 
 
 Lee, King, and the old miner stand by, obeying The Surgeon's 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 663 
 
 orders, dropping words of sympathy for Mark, and anathemas for 
 his assassins. 
 
 Before sunset, the blood and sand were washed from the curls, 
 the head was swathed with bandages brought by The Surgeon, the 
 broken wrist set and splintered, the dislocated shoulder put in 
 place, a bullet extracted from the other shoulder, the ragged hole 
 cleansed and skillfully dressed. 
 
 "There," said The Surgeon, " he had no shirt and he will need 
 none at present. The upper part of the body is covered with linen 
 ligatures. The sheet will be sufficient. King, call the miner's 
 wife. I have something to say." 
 
 When all were present, The Surgeon said, — 
 
 "My friends, this kind of outlawry," pointing to the bed, "de- 
 mands not only active sympathy, but it requires concealment. 
 The government committed that outrage. The President, and 
 every member of Congress, who did not denounce the infamous 
 Fugitive Slave Bill, put on that hand-cuff, fired those revolvers. 
 Their hands mangled that almost lifeless body. Those three man- 
 hunters were but the executioners of the public will. Well, then, 
 these three ruffians may be pursued by the just indignation of this 
 quiet valley ; they may be brought before the law to answer for to- 
 day's wanton violence. What then ? The judge will shame their 
 righteous prosecutors, by saying to Haywood and Fairland, ' Gen- 
 tlemen, I find no count against you. You were in the pursuit of 
 lawful business.' He will add, ' The true disturbers of the coun- 
 try's peace are the plaintiffs.' This decision will give the defend- 
 ants leave to return and take that man from his bed, if he is likely 
 to recover, and carry him away to the plantation of Vaucluse in 
 South CaroHna — the slave of Haywood for life. His free papers 
 are gone. We can make no defence but concealment. I think he 
 will come out of this j he has groaned twice during my operations, 
 but his recovery will be a three months' job. Now let us all under- 
 stand the steps to be taken, for, as God is in Heaven, we must 
 stand by the sufferer in that bed." 
 
 " We shall do that," answered every one. 
 
 " Right," continued The Surgeon. " The front windows of this 
 chamber are boarded up ; let them remain so. This north win- 
 dow must have a curtain impervdous to light. Here our three 
 
664 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 names are settled ; Lee, King and The Surgeon. The names of 
 these two," laying his hand famiharly on the old miner's shoulder, 
 " will be The Miner and The Miner's Wife. Outside of this house, 
 there will be no names. I shall not recognize you — you will all 
 be strangers to me." 
 
 "We will be strangers, sir," replied Lee. 
 
 The Surgeon placed a new, crisp, five-dollar bank bill in the hand 
 of The Miner, saying, — 
 
 "There is a beginning; I shall be your boarder for a week or 
 more — as necessity requires. I pass my summer vacation in this 
 town. I find more pleasure in this chamber than at the hotel. I 
 shall conceal my departure from the hotel under the pretense of a 
 trip to Philadelphia, and shall be here this evening. This victim 
 of Daniel Webster, * The Godlike,' needs my care. Friend Lee, I 
 leave him under your eye till my return. King, can you make me 
 up some sort of a bed in this room ? let it be hard and plain ; any- 
 thing to escape detection." 
 
 " I can do anything for you, sir," answered King. 
 
 After giving directions for the use of the restoratives, The Sur- 
 geon glided through the grove and corn-field to the river, where he 
 threw his fishing-rod over his shoulder and soon took his usual 
 seat at table for supper. 
 
 In due time, when the five Samaritans were gathered in the north 
 chamber, The Surgeon unfolded a Philadelphia paper, and read 
 aloud the proceedings of the arrest of Mark's assailants, accom- 
 panied with the account of their discharge, and the remarks of the 
 Justice of the United States Supreme Court on that occasion. 
 
 " Here it is in black and white," said The Surgeon ; " this in- 
 famous decision is as I expected. This representative of the 
 Supreme Law concluded the proceedings in this language. 
 
 " * JVe are unable to perceive in this transactiofi, anytlwig worthy of 
 blame i7i the conduct of these officers vi their unsuccessful endeavors to 
 fulfill a most da??gerous and disgusting duty — except^ perhaps^ a want 
 of sufficieut courage a?id perscvera?tce i?i the atteinpt to execute the writ.'' 
 
 " Of course no mention was made in court of the theft of free 
 papers before the attempt at kidnapping Marquis — for it was kid- 
 napping a free man. It is singular whose fingers pilfered Mark's 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 665 
 
 papers. I suspect that ugly copperhead looking fellow of a host- 
 ler to be the traitor." 
 
 " Mark should have another set of papers, if they can be ob- 
 tained," remarked Lee. 
 
 " True," answered The Surgeon. " We can at least make the 
 effort to obtain others." 
 
 He approached the bed of his patient, and asked, — 
 
 " What is the name of the person who freed you ? You are 
 feeble ; make no effort at conversation ; simply answer my ques- 
 tions. The name of the person who freed you ? " 
 
 '* Mrs. Lucy Steele." 
 
 " Is she living now ? " 
 
 " She is." 
 
 " Her residence?" 
 
 " Cloudspire, Massachusetts." 
 
 " What is your full name ? " 
 
 " Marquis Clarendon, sir." 
 
 " Where did this lady reside at the time you were made free ? " 
 
 " Charleston, South Carolina." 
 
 " That is sufficient. Take this opiate and all will be right." 
 
 At the end of three weeks' time, The Surgeon read to Mark a 
 letter from his benefactress, Mrs. Lucy Beame, and another from 
 her husband, Richard Beame. Both expressed the deepest com- 
 miseration for his suffering, and were accompanied by the proper 
 and legal papers, establishing his freedom. Folded in these 
 instruments was the sum of one hundred dollars, to be equally di- 
 vided between Marquis and the good old miner. 
 
 Richard had said to Lucy, after reading The Surgeon's communi- 
 cation, — 
 
 " Our annual gift from my charming parishioner in Mississipi 
 has just arrived. Let us bestow it upon one who has been way- 
 laid, robbed, and half-murdered, under the sanction of Republican 
 Law." 
 
 In November, Lucy and Richard received information from 
 Marquis by letter that he had made a successful escape into Can- 
 ada, with his family, by the " Underground Railroad." We quote 
 a few extracts : 
 
666 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " I was concealed and guarded by several friends, to whom I 
 shall ever owe a debt of gratitude ; but my life was saved by the 
 wonderful devotion and skill of a stranger. He was young, fair, 
 and angelically beautiful, possessed of every manly grace, and en- 
 dowed with the noblest traits of humanity. These are summed up 
 in that one phrase, ' The spirit of Christ.' 
 
 " The spirit of Christ. How like a balm those words fall upon 
 the heart! yet where is it to be found? In theGovernment that 
 professes to be founded upon the Scriptures ? No. In the admin- 
 istration of public officials ? No. In the ruling utterances of the 
 Press .'' No. In the thousand and one churches who worship 
 Christ as the Asiatics worship Boodh .'' No. 
 
 " Is the spirit of Christ found in those who have taken that 
 sacred bath in the blood of the Lamb, called conversion? No. 
 Is this blessed spirit found anywhere? With emphasis I answer, 
 Yes. It is found in the faith and deeds of those good Samaritans 
 who hold paramount the claims of justice, and humanity, over the 
 wicked laws of a nation of heartless banditti. In the lives of 
 those good Samaritans over whose heads hang the ' Social frown,' 
 and the judicial penalty of fines and imprisonment, for giving aid 
 and shelter to the fleeing fugitive. In these hearts alone, I have 
 found the helpful, sympathetic, benign, and ineffable spirit of the 
 Messiah." 
 
 " My comfortable cottage in the suburbs of Philadelphia, and of 
 which I hold the deed, is left to the indifferent care of strangers. 
 It is the purchase of years of industry and economy, by Janet and 
 myself. When shall we again traverse its verandah, or sit under 
 the vines oui hands have trained ? *' 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 AUGUSTUS DENTELLE and his young wife. May, passed 
 out from the breakfast-room to the garden. Like two lovers 
 of a day, they slowly followed the winding paths beneath rose ar- 
 bors, out into the glint of the morning sun, hidden by masses of 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 667 
 
 sweet myrtles, oleanders, and j aponicas, under the shade of mag- 
 nolias and crape myrtles, mingling honeyed words and low, rippling 
 laughter with the matin songs oiE birds, floating down from the 
 branches. 
 
 His arm was thrown about her waist above the sash of blue that 
 girdled her delicately embroidered white robe, and her trusting 
 hand was upon his shoulder. 
 
 " Augustus, Augustus ! " said May, turning her radiant face to 
 her husband, " do you know Zaffiri is coming to-morrow ? I am 
 so happy. Those roses should not make such haste to unfold their 
 charms." 
 
 She waved her left hand towards the shrubbery, apostrophising 
 the wilderness of budding fragrance. , 
 
 "Hush, beautiful roses! Listen, children of the skies! Fold 
 the secret I am about to confide within your velvet hearts. Zafnri 
 and Claude are coming. Mamma Bloome and Papa Bloome are 
 coming. Fold your petals. Hide your lovely blushes till they 
 stand in your midst ! Then put on your royal robes ! then be ye 
 superb." 
 
 " Roses ! " ejaculated Augustus, in turn extending a shapely hand, 
 "I will tell ye something seraphic ! May is here, in your midst I 
 My May ! my beautiful ' Bulbal ! ' my rose-loving nightingale ! 
 Is she not pouring the silver music of her voice in your ears ? Roses ! 
 I command ye, bloom, and delay not ! Open your velvet hearts to 
 my sylph, — my May! Pure white 'Sappho,' rosy i^\wV^ Reine de 
 Fleurs, rosy crimson ' Marx,' satiny ' Lamoreciere, cherry-colored 
 * Margolin,' clear flesh 'Amandine,' rose incarnate ' Beranger,' 
 vivid red ' Robin Hood,' expand ! bloom ! die ! and cast your 
 resplendent robes in perfumed drafts at my love's feet ! Obey ! " 
 
 " Fie ! dear Augustus ! what will the roses do now ? " asked 
 May, almost suffocating with merriment. 
 
 " They will obey me ! Nightingale, this garden,' these bowers, 
 these roses are for your delight. Let them bloom to-day ! Do 
 not understand, however, darling, that I do not rejoice in your an- 
 ticipations of a reunion with Claude and Zaffiri. If they had 
 refused to come to Savannah for the gratification of my beautiful 
 wife, I should have waived my arm towards the North, and thun- 
 dered forth, ' Come ! ' '' 
 
668 WHITE MAV, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " And so, my dear, you count their pleasure as nothing ; only 
 think of the delightful change from their cold, leaden, November 
 skies, to this summer clime. Like sleet-driven birds, they will 
 nestle down under this warm sun." 
 
 " No, sweet one ; I shall extend the bounteous, knightly hospital- 
 ity which a Southerner knows well how to offer ; they shall sail, 
 walk, gallop and driv^e. I will load the table with venison, duck, 
 wild turkey, and delicately flavored fish from the sea. The god- 
 dess ' Terpsichore ' shall preside over the shades of night ; and 
 you, my ' Euterpe,' shall rule the day. 
 
 " Thanks ! and you, my charming ' Apollo,' shall preside over 
 all. Ah ! has the pony, ' Moslem,' that I ride at the plantation, been 
 brought down ? " 
 
 "He is here in the stable. Madame Lambelle is a fine equestri- 
 en7ie, I believe. * Moslem ' will please her. You ladies will sweep 
 across the plains on ' Moslem ' and ' El Canala,' like two Arab 
 queens." 
 
 They approached the orangery. 
 
 " Dear me, Augustus, I could never have conceived the super- 
 abundance of fruit supported by an orange tree, without the evi- 
 dence of my own eyes. What an extravagant redundance of 
 golden fruits. * The leaves are pressed for existence between the 
 compact bunches." 
 
 " They are certainly unique in their growth, dear May." He 
 called a grey-headed servant, awaiting orders on the piazza. 
 
 " Here, ' June,' select an orange and remove the peel for your 
 mistress. Let us pass through the conservatory while June is oc- 
 cupied with the orange." 
 
 They entered amidst the obsequious attentions of the florist, 
 who called May's admiration to a new collection of rare exotics 
 received the previous day. 
 
 "They are exquisite," said May, "but do not torture me with 
 their ugl}^, scientific classification ; I will name them for myself, as 
 I fancy." 
 
 " Florist," said the husband, " cut the flowers that Mrs. 
 Dentelle prefers; arrange, and bring them to the piazza." 
 
 This piazza projected into the garden which was screened from 
 the street by high brick walls, overgrown by English ivy. 
 
WHITE MAY AXD BLACK JrXE. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 9 
 
 , • ( VAon hrncade near the fluted columns awaited 
 
 madam. 
 
 mauaiu. . , „ 
 
 " June, bring your mistress wrap Dentelle drew 
 
 He brought ^^^arming Parisian mantle w^^^^^^ ^^^^.^^ 
 
 tenderly about Ma/s shoulders June brouht also .^^_ 
 
 for her feet, which he Pl^'\^d, w. h a smile of humD ^^ 
 
 " 'T' °" ou[°misCs °' a d SentelleTn a l^ntering tone . 
 ^rxVwCu'ponjrtrvely lady, is a great pleasure, sir. She is 
 
 the white angel, sir." 
 
 "What am /then ?" „ 
 
 « The master and mistress are both one, s^r ^.^^ 
 
 "Now, May, do you hear that? Do you see tne g y ._ 
 which your celestial aurora envelopes me? Iruiy, marna^ 
 vine. Tell me the hour, June. 
 
 After a look within, the slave replied,— 
 
 :: ffifat:; S: Ws arm to I^is wif^ saying,- 
 
 " I must go ; one song on the harp dearest. 
 
 June followed, placed th^, harp, and retired In a t^vv 
 thi air of the parlors thrilled -^ 'he me ody o M^y^ ^^^.^^^ 
 rising in briUiant roulades, or poising itselto ^^ ^^^ 
 
 abovl the silvery shower of the ha p^ the tr^e tops poured forth 
 garden caught the inspiration and from the tree tops p 
 
 their wildest carols. „i„;„„rl A„mi<;tus as May's fingers 
 
 Ttmo^lerelf Tovet^vhtch she had passed the morning were her 
 
 "TfamUiaTv"o(ce accosted her >- genf e -"-• ^^^ 
 
 "My dear Mrs. Dentelle, are you not fatiguea. y 
 
 have a glass of wine ? " 
 
670 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " No, indeed, Celestine. I am not the least weary ; I am just 
 ready for a Afazurka." 
 
 " I have observed you," continued the gentle voice, " with your 
 husband in the garden. He is devoted to you. It was a rare and 
 charming sight in this cold world, yet you drink from the chalice 
 of his affections as indifferently as a bird drinks dew from the 
 leaves. You fear not to lose his adoration, and look for it daily." 
 
 " Why, Celestine, I never knew the feeling of one unloved. I 
 never missed human love from my earliest memory." 
 
 "True, destinies are dissimular. Some are stamped with disap- 
 pointment and sorrow ; others are woven with threads of gold, and 
 embossed with flowers." 
 
 " Dear Celestine," said May, "you would say the former is yours, 
 and the latter is my fate j but I cannot decide to do penance by 
 wearing haircloth and sleeping on thistles, in order to piously bal- 
 ance these inequalities of destiny. I think every intelligent being 
 should strive towards happiness. The garden will not refuse its 
 charms to you, Celestine ; the roses will yield you their fragrant 
 breath ; the oranges will fall into your hands as well as into ?nin€. 
 The blue serenity of the sky o'erarches you, as well as vie. I 
 wish you to enjoy all." 
 
 " Marriage, Mrs. Dentelle is the diadem of earthly loves ; frater- 
 nal and filial affections must yield before the royal behest of con- 
 nubial endearment. True marriage gilds ev^ery enjoyment. But I 
 am sure this conversation harasses you. I congratulate you, my 
 kindest of friends, on this union with your noble husband, and 
 your prospective happiness." 
 
 " Cheer up, Celestine, there is a bright side to all conditions. 
 Zaffiri and her husband will arrive to-morrow ; they will afford you 
 a new study. Vou will adore Madame Lambelle ; think of her 
 to-day." 
 
 True t was, that Madame Lambelle was on her way to Savan- 
 nah. After repeated solicitations, she was to run the gauntlet of 
 discovery. She had embraced Minnie in Montreal, and said with 
 agitation, — 
 
 " Pray for me, lest I fall into a snare." 
 
 Minnie had said, cheeringly, — 
 
 " They would never dream of your being a fugitive ! " 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 671 
 
 " Ah ! what a paradise ! " ejaculated Zaffiri, the next moning 
 after her arrival. " Your rooms are wreathed with flowers and 
 fragrance, your garden is redolent with bursting buds, and here are 
 orange trees laden with luscious fruit ! Mrs. Bloome," turning to 
 May's mother, "I think I should prefer the South as a residence." 
 
 " I am very glad to escape from Savannah summers to Indiana, 
 though the winters here are delightful. May had a conservatory 
 at home, as large as this." 
 
 In passing- through it, Mrs. Bloome named the rare plants with 
 familiarity. 
 
 There were groups of ladies in the arbors, politics on the piazza, 
 and music around the harp and piano. ' Moslem ' and ' El Canalo ' 
 daily bore May and Zaffiri out into the dewy suburbs, their ciding- 
 skirts brushing the odoriferous copses of laurel and sweet bay. 
 They paused and conversed under the evergreen domes of live- 
 oaks, tangling their plumes in the swaying drapery of pale gray 
 moss; they explored the balmy depths of pine forests, trailing 
 among vines and fan-palms. 
 
 They returned, radiant with health and animation. Upon one of 
 these occasions, Mrs. Bloome said to May, — 
 
 "Your milk-white pony misses you sadly, up in Indiana, my 
 darling ; but papa will see him in his stall as long as he chooses to 
 live." Turning to Zaffiri, she continued, "Mr. Bloome will have 
 May's saddle hung in the same place as before her marriage. He 
 will have the same flowers every year in May's parterre, and he 
 will have the flowers she loved best cut for the vases in her vacant 
 chamber ; he orders the servants to leave the furniture and trifles 
 as May last disposed them. He mourns her loss, deeply." 
 
 "And you, mamma," asked May with her arms about her motlier's 
 neck, " Do you miss me ? " 
 
 "Do I miss you ? my child, do not stab my heart with that cruel 
 question. My sunlight has turned to night. My bird has flown 
 from its cage. Love, youth and beauty flew away with my birdie." 
 
 May kissed her mother gayly, saying, — 
 
 "Dear mamma, you have your birdie now, and you will have her 
 for two years; you know you and papa are going to Europe with 
 us. We shall admire the ancient and modern wonders, together. 
 Now, while you and papa take an airing in the carriage, with Papa 
 
C72 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 and Mamma Dentelle, I shall hold a tete-a-tete with Zaffiri. Oh ! 
 I've so many sweet things to say, and I've not had her one mo- 
 ment to myself." 
 
 June, who was sitting in his accustomed place in the upper hall, 
 rose as the ladies gayly ascended. His face was benign with the 
 dumb homage which ever welcomed his beloved young mistress. 
 
 "June, bring up a nice lunch," May said. " We have had a long 
 gallop. Bring what will please me ; one thing must be orange 
 sherbet. Let us be Orientals, Zaffiri. Bring on the salver a dish 
 of violets and tube-roses." She said to her maid, " dress us quickly 
 and retire ; then disturb us for nothing." 
 
 Over their lunch, violets and tube-roses, began the outflow of 
 meandering confidences like the sparkling streams of long-pent 
 fountains. 
 
 "You have a fine, trusty old servant in the hall," remarked Zaffiri. 
 
 " Yes ! I am attached to June, and he pets me as if I were his 
 grandchild. What an idea ! " they both laughed without control. 
 " I mean to say, as if I were the blossom of his poor, slave exist- 
 ence. You see, I oblige him to sit when waiting in the hall. It is 
 the custom for slaves to stand. But June is viy slave. Augustus 
 made a bill of sale of him to me." A comical witchery glinted in 
 her eyes. She laid her hand on her friend's arm, bent towards 
 her, and said in an undertone, " Oh, it is so ludicrous ! but Augus- 
 tus app< ars really jealous of our young colored men-servants. I 
 make no pretensions of understanding, but June — dear me ! " she 
 covered her face with her palms and shook with' convulsive merri- 
 ment. "June — oh, my ! June is the eunuch of Augustus' harem, 
 of which I am the idolized and sole occupant ! " 
 
 There was a long pause in which both swept away tears of jocose 
 ridicule. 
 
 " Do you suppose, Zaffiri, ca?i you suppose that Cupid has er- 
 rands between the whites and negroes of the South .'' I've always 
 heard the taunt of amalgamation cast contemptuously at the North, 
 and I have never dreamed of anything but a general hatred and 
 contempt for any shade of color in the South." 
 
 "I should suppose Cupid's occupation gone, in that direction,'* 
 answered Zaffiri ; " but I am not a resident of the slave section, and, 
 therefore, can form no opinion except of impossibility." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 673 
 
 "Well Aucrustus' care is a riddle to me, although a very pleasant 
 one He's a^ queer fellow ; he has an antipathy against Celestine, 
 that gentle, subdued woman. He thinks her sombre view of life 
 casts a gloom over my happiness. He says there shall be no 
 
 clouds in my sky. c • ^ 
 
 " Celestine is a woman of about fifty years, without friends, near 
 relations, and without a home. She is distantly connected with 
 Papa Dentelle's mother, who traces her blue blood back to Henry 
 the Eighth of England. It is only Celestine's high blood whicn 
 induces Augustus to tolerate her at all. He reveres blood. 
 " She should be content in your family." ^ 
 
 "She is, enlirely. Celestine is the housekeeper, carries her 
 keys. These cares lighten her trouble by diversion." 
 
 " What is her family name ? " , , , 
 
 " Channaire — Celestine Cbannaire. I am in a study about the 
 future. Mamma Dentelle will not allow her in /ler family ; and 
 Augustus will not welcome her on our return from Europe, bhe 
 is a true Southern lady' by birth and education. Private misfor- 
 tunes have brought her to dependence. Zaffin, have you need of 
 her? I know your generosity and delicate sympatny. Celestine 
 could not feel her desolation with you and your noble husband." 
 
 " Miss Channaire would not be pleased with the North, would 
 she ? You know, May, the Northern temperament is said to be 
 more phleo-matic than the Southern. Would she not miss the exu- 
 berant social warmth of her own section, which is as gracetul and 
 luxuriant as the growth of your vegetation ? " 
 
 " Dear Zaffiri, you make an unfortunate mistake. Caste reigns 
 here There is no social warmth for one in Celestine's destitution. 
 Our ladies, in consideration of her blood, would not meet her with 
 open superciliousness, but she would feel neglect in a thousand 
 ways which could not be well-defined as contempt, but which 
 would be thorns to her peace of mind though she would never 
 complain. She conceals a secret cause of grief, of which I have 
 
 been informed." 
 
 The two friends bowed their heads very near, and for an hour 
 their low voices could scarcely have been heard beyond their own 
 seats. Surprise, pity, indignation and commiseration sat in turn 
 upon the faces of each. Their eyes flashed, calmed and melted 
 
674 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 into tears. Compassion wrought new beauty in the countenances 
 of the two lovely women, and rendered them angelic. When the 
 conference closed, and their voices still grieved, and their cheeks 
 were still wet, May opened her bureau drawers and spread an as- 
 sortment of linen and muslin embroidery upon Zaffiri's lap. 
 
 " That is Celestine's work for me ; observe, please, the delicacy 
 of those lilies and leaves, the jasmine sprays and pensile buds, the 
 finish of the points. It was a labor of love, for I besought her 
 not to peril her sight, which has been severely tried during many 
 years." 
 
 "This embroidery is like the handiwork of Nature, herself ; but 
 it pains me to measure the heart-ache stitched beneath that tioss. 
 A person of Celestine's shrinking, sensitive organization, would 
 feel a voluntary preference for the one who should offer her home 
 and friendship. She should not accept a mere shelter from a piti- 
 less world without a satisfying rest to her affections ; else she will 
 pine under the corroding effect of coQcealed disquiet and home- 
 sickness. If INIiss Channaire should indulge the slightest antipa- 
 thy or prejudice for me, dear May, it would be cruelty to proffer 
 a home to her when she has no other alternative." 
 
 "Antipathy or prejudice to you, Zafffri .? Preposterous supposi- 
 tion ! then Celestina must be the only exception to the world. 
 Every one you meet is charmed into admiration and love for you, 
 and to confess the truth, I have broached the necessity of a change 
 for her at her timid request. She is captivated with Zaffiri — you 
 have a singular attraction for her. She talks of you constantly."* 
 
 "That information changes the aspect of the transfer. I do not 
 doubt my own love and ability to cherish her into a brighter view 
 of life. I think I might extract that hidden thorn of sorrow, and 
 heal the wound, though not without a cicatrice, perhaps. I be- 
 lieve I might heal its rankling, festering pain. Her pallid, patient 
 face haunts me last, when my lids are closed in sleep ; and first, 
 when I awake to consciousness. I will think farther." 
 
 " Hark ! I hear Augustus. They have returned," exclaimed 
 May, at the same time gliding out upon the piazza and leaning 
 over the balustrade to listen. She returned, saying, " The gentle- 
 men are deep in discussion. That ogre — that ghoul — of Seces- 
 sion rises head and shoulders above other issues, as usual ; rather 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 675 
 
 call it the Grecian Sphinx, with a riddle in its mouth, for individual 
 so ution of all that pass by -and which kills all who fail to solve 
 U Ugh ! how I hate that word, Secession ; hke Pharaohs plague 
 of frogs, it is everywhere; in parlor, chamber and kneadmg 
 
 "°"f lav. I fear that word, ' Secession.' I think that Grecian 
 Sphinx with the riddle, will change tactics, in America, and kUl all 
 
 who do solve ity r • 11 1 u r) ^ 
 
 « I don't fear it," laughed May, in a tone of ridicule. Papa 
 Dentelle says, ' Secession ' would not trouble Savannan or any 
 other Southern city. There would be a few mihtary brushes on the 
 line between the Slave and Free States. He says the North would 
 yield to the first thunder of Southern artillery. The Slave State, 
 would gain a bloodless victory on paper at Washington, xvlien the 
 North would sign terms of capitulation there conceding Constitu- 
 tional Southern Rights. I only wish they would go about it, and 
 indulge no longer in indolent and imbecile hesitation. 
 
 " 1 ao-ree dear May. The sooner their rights are estaolished the 
 better ° Much as I deplore a fracture, of our Republic, it secession 
 is the only panacea for her ills, I say, let ^he experiment proceed 
 
 " Dear me !" exclaimed May, " how we babble on, Zafhri, like 
 those noisy Northern brooks. I have not found time to speak of 
 U lovely Mississippi friend, Mrs. SiUton. N^cmporte, xye must meet 
 the party below. Do allow Celestine to go with you to your dress- 
 n-ioom ; she craves the privilege and will not feel the least humil- 
 iared by the service she knows well how to render. I will give 
 
 ^''she^'foun'd 'june at his post in the hall, bade him remember that 
 " this day will be 2.fde of roses." . 
 
 "Fill the vases^ everywhere, with every variety the garaen 
 affords," she said with enthusiasm, and she gave him a paper with a 
 fist no to be overlooked. '' Deep carmine ' Royal,' Clear flesh 
 rL^^ine,' deep crimson ' Baronne Halez,' light 'Rose Madame 
 Vrrdier,' pure white ' Portland blanc,' incarnate ' Beranger and 
 purple red^ ' Magador.' Give this to the gardner and tell he 
 Lrfst to send up to me some of^his choicest tea roses. Have this 
 order attended to immediately." 
 
 - Immediately, dear mistress," repeated June, hastening away. 
 
676 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. ^ 
 
 Then May and Zaffiri entered the rose-scented apartments below, 
 with tea roses in their braids and at their throats, and passed out 
 to the piazza. The four gentlemen left their seats with an instinct- 
 ive salute of admiration. 
 
 " Do not allow us to interrupt the discussion," said Zaffiri. 
 "Consider us as priestesses in the American temple of Justice." 
 
 "Proceed, gentlemen," urged May, with a gay smile and a 
 sibylline wave of her blue-veined hand. " Perfect your scheme of 
 secession ; no longer agitate disunion, metphorically ; clear it of 
 objections and difficulties ; lay 3'our foundations for secession on 
 the rock of sovereign will — not on the quicksands of the past, to 
 be undermined by the first flood of Northern compromises. Pro- 
 ceed, gentlemen." 
 
 A clapping of hands, and many polite "bravos!" followed. 
 Dentelle called May his proud goddess Minerva, kissed her cheek 
 and gallantly led her to a seat. He took up the broken thread of 
 argument. 
 
 " As I said, the South will soon be in a hopeless minority. Let 
 her face the reality with such feelings as she may. The South, like 
 the dead body of Hector bound to the car of Achilles, v*fill soon be 
 dragged by the triumphant North around a ruined possession, 
 quickly to be followed by the erasive ploughshare of the subverting 
 conquerer. Let me show the process of our humiliation. By the 
 surrender of Kansas, the South will become subordinate and the 
 North predominate in the Union. Never again could the equilib- 
 rium of State sovereign representation between the South and the 
 North be restored to the senate, or the equality of the South with 
 the North be maintained in the House of Representatives." 
 
 " The loss of Kansas, to the South, will involve the loss of !Mis- 
 souri," said Mr. Bloome, "'and the loss of Missouri will destroy the 
 moral as well as the political prestige of the South." 
 
 " True," joined Mr. Lambelle ; " with abolitionized Iowa, 
 stretching on the north of Missouri, and abolitionized Kansas, on 
 the west, Missouri must in a few years necessarily cease to be a 
 slave-holding State." 
 
 " A correct view, sir," agreed Augustus ; " besides, the loss of 
 Missouri to the South will involve the loss of Creek and Cherokee 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 677 
 
 domain ; the Choctaw and Chickasaw domain, and New Mexico, 
 and Arizona." 
 
 • " There's the loss of six States, which are legitimately attached 
 to the slave-holding interests of the South, and which would save 
 the harmonious equilibrium of the Union. Then follows the loss 
 of Arkansas, another slave-holding State ; and of Texas, war- 
 ranted by the law of annexation to be divided into five slave- 
 holding States." 
 
 " A positive loss to the South of twelve States," said IVIr. Bloome 
 fraternally. " In justice, as well as through a wise and politic 
 statesmanship, they should be saved to the slave-holding interests." 
 
 Dentelle paced the floor with exasperated step, and caught up 
 the words hastily. 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Bloome, and what will be the effect of this Black 
 Republican piracy ? " He stopped before May's father, and with 
 aggravated gestures declared solemnly, " This ! It will subject to 
 abolitionism the entire western shore of the Mississippi river, 
 reaching beyond the Rocky Mountains, to the Pacific Ocean and 
 down to the Rio Grande ; and convulsing Louisiana with servile 
 war, will saturate her soil with blood." 
 
 "It seems," remarked Mr. Lambelle, " that Black Republican- 
 ism* embraces and controls abolitionism, while, on the other hand, 
 it professes to entertain due regard to Law, Government and the 
 Constitution." 
 
 "Yes, their organization is political, separate from religious 
 fanaticism and moral frenzy. It is only potent for evil while the 
 South shall continue in the Union. It has mentally eliminated a 
 broad and profound policy — a comprehension and far-reaching 
 statesmanship, which contemplates the gradual consolidation of the 
 governmejtt through amendments to the Constitution. But 
 Black Republicanism has a stopping point, and ceases its power y^r 
 mischief i'^ regard to the South, at least with disunion." 
 
 " According to this curriculum, father, the abolitionists will have 
 the power in a few years to alter the Constitution in any way they 
 please. They will, in ten years, more or less, fulfill their inten- 
 tions of abolishing slavery in all the States in a constitutional man- 
 
 ner." 
 
 " Clear as the sun, Augustus ] if, then, the South would escape 
 
678 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 the dire effects of the abolition of slavery, the best attitude in 
 which she can meet the danger, is that of a separate and i7idepend- 
 ent gove?'7imenty 
 
 " The North scarcely estimates the significance of emancipation ; 
 and yet, I think they would hesitate long before inflicting so heavy 
 a loss upon the South," remarked Mr. Lambelle. 
 
 "Why, sir, the loss would be nine billions of property to the 
 whites ; and the abolition of slaves means that your h'uxd freed 
 negro-gan* will be made your ' equals ' and '■ fellouf-citizens^ by the 
 grace of law and the abolitionists. It means, to the negro, equality 
 with his former master in politics and civil rights ; and, as far as 
 it can be done, in social privileges." 
 
 " Who would be submissionists ? " asked May, her eye eloquent 
 with disgust. 
 
 " I ask that question, myself," said Mrs. Bloome. "Who would 
 not encounter Secession and collision, rather than give up his 
 slaves to emancipation, his family to degradation, his property to 
 ruin, and himself to poverty." 
 
 Encores and cries of ''''Hear! Hear! Hear!^^ from familiar 
 voices in the parlor, checked the further unrolling of that web of 
 fate in which that circle had been so busily engaged. 
 
 They rose simultaneously with the appearance in the long wm- 
 dows of Colonel Haywood and his wife, Grace. 
 
 "Jupiter, Olympus, Dentelle," said the cononel, " we have not 
 fallen into a nest of Abolitionists this time. Be seated — I com- 
 mand." 
 
 After the hand pressures and welcomes, Grace entreated May 
 and Augustus to resume seats with their friends. 
 
 "This is a delightful surprise to us, as well as to you. Do not 
 allow our entrance to interrupt the engrossing theme which occu- 
 pies the thoughts of every true Southerner." 
 
 "By the gods! gentlemen," said Colonel Haywood, I assure you 
 I have something to say respecting our purple robe of power ; 
 whether its ermine shall retain its hereditary sanctity or whether 
 its spotless purity be draggled in the furrow of the Northern mud- 
 sill. Pardon me, Messrs. Bloome and Lambelle, that caste is as 
 much your enemy as ours." 
 
 The ladies fluttered into the parlor. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 679 
 
 "Oh Mav' what a paradise of roses 1 they are dazzling. The 
 1 1 Wre'of vour -arden must have been shorn ! The whole 
 
 '^Tl^^sZZTd'to .he piazza. Colonel Haywood's sen- 
 
 U,e n^arnal^beciU y of ^^:^^;:^ i^^^^^ 
 will become a sottish ragged l^^^J^?"' J^^^^ ^e^ ral uprising 
 
 to even the hon^t -^.te ">- Jh re would be ^^^^ p ^ g 
 
 iX^inLT^drr/e^outlAhe country. What is your opinion, 
 
 ^^''^l'' fhink your conclusions are wisely drawn. In the premises, 
 we should look for these results " ^^.^ ^^^^ ^^^^^ ,, ^^.^ 
 
 S: oVr irnTeTBtk R^plVcanrfmendments to the 'con- 
 
 ,1 :r^ e a^d cU^aint cou^ be^^^^^^^^^^ 
 UZ'^tX^^^oi:':, brWt to a level with a degraded 
 
 '""^'('o' bf iosTled by them in their paths and to be intruded upon 
 K I.ir rude vulgarity," added Grace, contemptuously. "When 
 '/e Iccept eSatriaSon 'you may be ready to accompany us, Madame 
 Lambelle." 
 
6So WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "I have not considered expatriation the worst evil," Mrs. Hay- 
 wood. " The course taken by myself and husband towards the 
 South has subjected us to much social ostracism." 
 
 "Zaffiri," exclaimed May, "do let us choose some country where 
 roses flourish all the year — some balmy tropical shore." 
 
 " Ladies, I honor your patriotic sacrifices, bnt don't pack trunks 
 this winter ; we are waiting to see which way the hinge of Kansas 
 turns. If we get possession of and hold Kansas, it will be worth 
 thousands of millions of dollars to the South." 
 
 " Colonel Haywood is right, darling May," said Augustus. " Do 
 not frown over Southern destiny. Kansas is the Malakoff fortress, 
 the taking of which would decide our victory in that quarter of the 
 Republic, in this battle of abolitionism — a battle in which from 
 three to six states are the prizes to be lost or won to the South." 
 
 " Mr. Lambelle, I have been out to Kansas since we met," re- 
 sumed Colonel Haywood. " I was present at the sacking of Law- 
 rence." 
 
 " Colonel Buford, from Alabama, has taken a Southern regiment 
 to Kansas, to establish Southern claims, I believe .'' " 
 
 '' He has. They were recruited mostly in South Carolina and 
 Georgia. The Carolinians under Captain Wilkes, and a company 
 from Florida under Titus. There has been, and will be, hot work 
 there. Buford's regiment will give no quarter to the Abolitionists. 
 It will clear them out with hemp, bowie-knife and bullets. They 
 are the boys to use them. They will subjugate Kansas. There's 
 a paper established under Missouri s patronage called the Squatter 
 Sove?'eig?i. This is one of its early paragraphs, — 
 
 •' 'We will continue to lynch atid hang, tar and feather and drown 
 eve7'y white-livered Abolitiojiist who dares to pollute our soil I T " 
 
 " Colonel Haywood, it would afford me great pleasure to listen 
 to your description of the sacking of the town of Lawrence," said 
 Zaffiri, " if I am not asking too great a favor." 
 
 May and Mrs. Dentelle joined in the request. 
 
 ''The pleasure would be mine, ladies. I assure you, I am never 
 weary of recounting the victorious occurrences of that day. 
 
 " For several days before the attack there was parleying on both 
 sides. Lawrence asking whys and wherefores, and answered by 
 the demands of General Shannon. His pretext was the enforce- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 68 1 
 
 ment of the territorial laws, while the true design was to ^ wipe ouV 
 Lawrence — 'the citadel of Free State principles.' Now, I will 
 show you how gloriously Lawrence was 'wiped out' 
 
 " On the morning of the twenty-first of May last, General Atch- 
 inson (U. S. Senator from Missouri) led the Platte County Rifles 
 up to the west of Lawrence ; the United States Marshal, Donald- 
 son, with Colonel Buford, commanding the Georgians, Carolinians, 
 and Alabamians, halted on Mount Oread, on the east of that ken- 
 nel of Abolitionists — Boston, named Lawrence." 
 
 The force estimated at about eight hundred, marched down the 
 hill and formed a hollow square. General Atchinson made a 
 speech, saying they would go in and test the strength of that 
 d— md Free State Hotel ; they would teach the Emigrant Aid 
 Company that Kansas shall be ours ! I respect his closing words ; 
 " Come on, boys ! now do your duty to yourselves and your Southern 
 friends.' Your duty I know you will do. If one man or woman 
 dare stand before you, blow t}m?t to h — // with a chunk of cold 
 lead." 
 
 " That's the spirit," ejaculated Augustus, joining his father and 
 the other gentlemen in clapping. 
 
 " Weil, they arrested two prisoners, and then demanded the sur- 
 render of all the cannon and Sharp's rifles in their possession, 
 through General Pomeroy, with five minutes time by the watch to 
 decide. One cannon was surrendered. 
 
 " On the nineteenth, Shannon had declared their arms must be 
 given up to the posse, and that the hotel and printing-presses must 
 be destroyed, for this reason ; and now, gentlemen, I fear your ap- 
 plause will be overwhelming for this reason, 'else the South Caro- 
 linians will not be satisfied.'' " 
 
 Both ladies and gentlemen rose to their feet and rendered vig- 
 orous and prolonged applause. 
 
 " Dear Ralph," begged Grace, " do not forget to relate the inter- 
 esting particular at this point. I declare, Madame Lambelle, I 
 cannot ^sufficiently admire the Southern spirit of Colonel Buford's 
 men." 
 
 Colonel Haywood resumed,- — 
 
 " The Free ^tate office was destroyed with a will, and its types 
 thrown into the river. The tvpes of the Herald of Freedom 
 
682 WHITE MAY, AND DLACK JUNE. 
 
 office were thrown into the Kansas, and the press broken. The 
 flag of South Carolina was hoisted first on this office, but soon re- 
 moved to the hotel." 
 
 " Do Ralph, allow me to interrupt you, in order to describe this 
 flag to the ladies. You may have seen it, Mrs. Dentelle." 
 
 " I have not seen it, Mrs. Haywood." 
 
 " ITie ground is blood red, with one white star. That is the star 
 of hope. It was inscribed on one side with ' Southern Rights,' 
 and on the other with the glorious name of * South Carolina ' in 
 black. I assure you, that deep incarnadine banner was consecrated 
 in Charleston, by woman's prayerful solicitations, and its inspira- 
 tion was fulfilled when it first gave its folds to the Kansas breeze, 
 above these doomed nests of Abolitionists." 
 
 " We emulate your devotion to that beautiful symbol ! " replied 
 Mrs. Dentelle. The ' State's Rights Hotel ' ought to have fallen 
 under its potent spell, like the walls of Jericho under the spell of 
 rams horn's." 
 
 " It fell, nevertheless, under -a spell more powerful than rams 
 horns — the Southern yell I Cannonading had no effect, nor kegs of 
 powder in the cellar. Colonel Titus of Florida ordered the hotel 
 to be fired. Fires were set in every room. I had the honor of 
 setting one myself. The walls of the hated den fell in the seeth- 
 ins: wrath of flames." 
 
 " Was it a rude structure 1 " asked May. 
 
 " No, madam, very fine. Its furnishing cost ten thousand dollars \ 
 it was the finest hotel west of St. Louis. Before firing it, our boys 
 ransacked its stores, cupboards, and cellar. They supplied them- 
 selves royally with cans of fruit, sardines, oysters, wines and cigars. 
 
 '' From the plunder of private houses, our boys clothed them- 
 selves." The colonel's voice lowered. " I confess, Dentelle, my 
 heart ached for the ragged condition of our troops ; a few scanty 
 thousands were parsimoniously doled out by the South. It is en- 
 tirely inadequate. W^e don't compete with the Northern Emigrant 
 Aid Societies, which contribute hundreds of thousands of dollars, 
 to equip, send out, and colonize their emigrants in Texas." 
 
 " But, Haywood my friend, Kansas is left unaided, not so much 
 by the penuriousness, as from the poverty of the great bulk of 
 our people," resumed Dentelle. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 683 
 
 " I know : the whole course of national legislation has tended to 
 divert money from the South, which leaves her scant of funds for 
 every public-spirited purpose." , 
 
 " They should have found other valuable articles besides cloth- 
 ing in private dwellings," said Mr. Lambelle. " To the victor be- 
 long the spoils." 
 
 " They did so. They investigated trunks and wardrobes ; they 
 carried off letters, drafts, money and apparel of ^ both sexes. Ah ! 
 I have a package of letters here, in my pocket." 
 
 He drew them forth, broke the cord that bound them, and toss- 
 ing them about among the ladies, said, — 
 
 " Accept a memento of ' Southern Rights.' " ^ 
 
 " I esteem this letter a most precious gift," said Zaffiri. 
 
 " I too," said May ; " but let us peruse them at our leisure. Do 
 Colonel Haywood, continue the narration." 
 
 " You would have been amused, Madam May, to have witnessed 
 the picturesque appearance of our boys. In lieu of sashes, they 
 wore about their waists heavy curtain cords and tassels taken from 
 the hotel ; they carried about in their hands pieces of broken niir- 
 rors thrown from the windows, surveying themselves, and adjusting 
 
 their adornings." 
 
 " They marched about with silk and satin dresses on their arms, 
 their pockets stuffed with varieties ; they crushed trinkets and 
 daguerotypes under their heels ; I took from one of the men a 
 rar^ and elegant mosaic brooch, as a souvenir for Grace." 
 
 " Have you it here ? " asked the ladies eagerly, 
 
 "I regret it is in Charleston. It equals any mosaic I have seen, 
 even in Rome." 
 
 Colonel Haywood proceeded. 
 
 " I was walking with Colonel Titus when he ordered a store to 
 be broken into. He said, ' / t/wik there are Sharpe's rifles in 
 there ! Stave her in, boys, if she is locked 1 ' They broke in the 
 windows with the butts of their guns, and crawled through." 
 
 The warning bell rang for dinner. The ladies about retiring ex- 
 pressed regret that the interesting narration of the colonel should 
 be so abruptly broken. 
 
 " Fly away to* your chambers, fly away, white doves ! " replied 
 
 
684 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 the colonel, with gallantry. " Time enough hereafter. June, bid 
 Charlotte attend her mistress." 
 
 Left alone with the gentlemen, he grasped Dentelle's shoulder, 
 by way of emphasis, and said with an exultant smile, — 
 
 " I have not unvaiied to the ladies a fraction of the reckless and 
 daring bravado of our boys. I feared to shock their nerves. Why, 
 our troops broke everything that would break, and burned what 
 they could not otherwise destroy. They sung, swore and danced 
 on the ruins. Buford, Titus and Wilkes, gave them unrestrained 
 license, and went in themselves. They rained furniture from the 
 windows of the hotel^ — mirrors, marble top idihXes, fauteids, beds 
 and toilet-setts crashe'd to the ground in a mass of debris. 
 
 " A party of Buford's men deliberately fired upon some ladies, 
 sitting upon College Hill, west of the town. They levelled their 
 guns at a hundred rods distance and the balls went whizzing ! 
 They threw down their guns, swung their hats and shouted, ' Hur- 
 rah for South Carolina! Down with Abolitisnists ! Slavery in 
 Kansas, by G — d ! ' I must acknowlege the bravery of those 
 ladies, for they stood still and faced the men and their bullets. 
 The boys picked up their guns and levelled them again, but were 
 prevented from firing again, by one of their number. But they 
 went up the hill, singing ' Katy Darling ' and ' Lily Dale.' " 
 
 A volley of laughter from the colonel's auditors sanctioned these 
 outrages. 
 
 The ladies returned. Madame Lambelle went to the table on 
 the arm of Colonel Haywood ; May with Mr. Lambelle, and Grace 
 with Augustus. The dinner was sumptuous and epicurean, festive, 
 and sparkling with wine. A pyramid of roses graced a costly 
 epergne in the centre, a rose bouquet was found at every plate, 
 and a white-gloved slave waited at the back of each chair. 
 
 During the last week of Mr. Lambelle's stay in Savannah, invi- 
 tations were received from Charleston to a St. Cecelia ball. It was 
 inaugurated in honor of Preston Brooks, the idolized vindicator of 
 South Carolinaism on the person of Charles Sumner. As Zaffiri 
 held the card, bearieg the names of " Mr. Claude Lambelle and 
 Lady," her heart beat heavily. She said mentally, — 
 
 "This terrible pass grows narrower! Charleston,' the city of my 
 bondage, the city that bound dear Father Wemtze to the whipping- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 685 
 
 post, that sold away to New Orleans mauma, my roster mother ; 
 Charleston, that gloats over the martyrdom of Free Speech in the 
 bloody body of Charles Sumner. That city was not in my 
 programme." 
 
 Her face began to writhe with the hatred she bore it. 
 
 "Pass me the card, please, Zaffiri," said her husband. 
 
 In complying, she caught from his eye the peculiar look which 
 she understood as a gentle warning. He read aloud, — 
 
 " In honor of our disti?iguished fellow- citize?i and representative, 
 Preston S. Brooks ! " and said, — 
 
 " Zrffiri, this ball will be a supreme pleasure, the crowm of our 
 Southern trip. I have many friends in Charleston whose acquain- 
 ance I wish you to make." 
 
 "Ah, Zaffiri! exclaimed May, "you will be delighted. A St. 
 Cecelia ball is worth the attention. None but the creme de la creme 
 are admitted. Blue blood and high caste are the talismanic words 
 that swing open St. Cecelia's door. The intervening time will be 
 occupied in the preparation of our toilets au ball delightful ! ravis- 
 sante P^ 
 
 On the evening of the Charleston assembly, none of the fair 
 rotaries of the dance were more elegantly or tastefully attired than 
 May and her guest. 
 
 Both wore Marie Antoinette style. 
 
 Zaffiri, in maize-colored satin a shade deeper than her harvest 
 hair, overlaid with bodice and train of torquoise, blue velvet gar- 
 nished with rich lace, a tiara and a necklace of diamonds com- 
 pleted her toilet. 
 
 May, in white gossamer gauze flecked with silvery stars, a bod- 
 ice and train of rose-colored velvet lined with white satin, finished 
 with frills of costly lace, and a parure of opals and diamonds. 
 She was the cynosure of all eyes ; her hand was sought by Caro- 
 linas noblest sons. 
 
 Madame Lambelle received courtly courtesy and distinguished 
 attention. 
 
 Among the gentlemen who hovered about her, was one intro- 
 duced by Augustus Dentelle. He was past middle age, his hair 
 was gray, and his rubicund color hinted of the wine cup and an 
 epicurean table. 
 
686 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Gallant and gracious as his youthful competitors, he obtained 
 her hand for the set forming at that momentr Zaffiri gave him 
 the tips of her fingers as she would have extended them between 
 the fangs of a rattlesnake. When she glided through the mazes 
 of the dance, she seemed to feel the subtle poison of that venom- 
 ous serpent weakening her nerves ; but she maintained a smile 
 above the pallor of her face, and replied with becoming grace to 
 his gallant phrases and insipid flattery. 
 
 When the strains of music ceased, and all were repairing to 
 seats, her companion, expressing a fear that too much fatigue 
 overcame her or that •she suffered from the closeness of the air, 
 gently persuaded her to go out upon the balcony. 
 
 " The stars are bright," he said, " but they fade before the lustre 
 of madam's eyes." 
 
 "Thank you, but I think my eyes must be quite spiritless at 
 present." 
 
 " Lean upon my arm more heavily, dear lady ; angels have no 
 ponderable weight ; therefore the charms of Madame Lambelle 
 cannot be burdensome." 
 
 The open air, and the conscipusness that her emotion was veiled 
 by darkness, restored her color and brilliancy of manner. Stroll- 
 ing up and down, she listened to the encomiums lavished upon 
 Preston S, Brooks, and to the polite anathemas poured upon 
 Charles Sumner, while a flood of uncontrollable indignation 
 surged to her cheeks. Pier knight stopped before the blaze of an 
 open window, and turned his eyes deferentially upon her. 
 
 "Ah! madame'has recovered. Her entrancing beauty has re- 
 sumed its throne. I was right. The knightly arm should never 
 leave a fair one in distress. Allow me to otfer a draught of wine." 
 He escorted her into one of the elaborately furnished anterooms 
 where her husband met her with tender inquiries. 
 
 The gray-haired cavalier bowed, saying, — 
 
 " Very reluctantly I transfer my beautiful charge to her hus- 
 band. I am under many obligations for the pleasure Madame 
 Lambelle has conferred upon me this evening. Allow me to sug- 
 gest a longer rest, sir, for your lovely wife." 
 
 Her partner left Claude and Zaffiri to themselves and joined 
 the assembly, then sweeping about the hall in promenade. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 687 
 
 She gave her husband's hand a clinging, trembling pressure. 
 It was returned with masonic fervor. 
 
 Zaffirl, thefiigtive, had danced with her master! 
 
 Claude led his wife into the grand hall to a seat from which 
 could be seen an impressive design which had been unveiled 
 during her absence. 
 
 In large letters on the wall, at the end of the hall, she read this 
 extract from Sumner's speech on Kansas. 
 
 " Ah, sir ! I tell the Senator that Kansas, welcomed as a Free 
 State, will be a ministering angel to the Republic, when South Carolina, 
 in the cloak of darhiess which she hugs, lies howlingP 
 
 Around this prophecy were wreathed revolvers, bowie-knives 
 and broken canes, intertwined and bound together by the hempen 
 rope of the hangman. Over all was looped away the blood-red flag 
 with its one white star; a likeness of that banner of outrage and 
 atrocity which waved over Buford's guerilla warfare in Kansas. 
 
 " Singularly appropriate,' ejaculated Zaffiri. 
 
 " Singularly so," responded the Misses Fairland, who had left 
 the promenade to join Zaffiri. " The surroundings of Sumner s 
 insulting assertion, are indicative of Southern sentiment. That 
 design is as beauliful as the carvings of cherubim and palm trees 
 and open flowers on the walls of Solomon's temple." 
 
 The elder crossed herself before it as a devotee crosses herself 
 before the shrine of the Holy Virgin. 
 
 " True, sister," replied the others. " Senator Brooks ranks with 
 Leonidas and Spart'acus. His name has borrowed a sanctity from 
 the deserved humiliation of Sumner." 
 
 " Mr. Brooks has certainly won for himself an endutable fame," 
 said Mr. Lambelle 
 
 " Our sentiments coincide, sir." 
 
 The conversation turned. 
 
 "We must see you both at ' Le Grand Palais,' said both ladies. 
 Two days, at least, cannot interfere with your timely return North." 
 
 The next day found them, with May and Augustus, at the plan- 
 tation of the Fairiands. The luxury, pleasures and garden of 
 Savannah were repeated with the additional phase of plantation 
 slavery ; the rice and cotton gangs, the negro quarters, possessing 
 a solemn interest for Zaffiri. 
 
688 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 She mentally recounted the year of Lucy's trials at " Le Grand 
 Palais," after her marriage with William Steele. She galloped with 
 May and the Misses Fairland, over the very forest path where 
 Lucy had guided her pony, solitary and despised. She furtively 
 made a drawing of the overseer's house to carry away with her. 
 
 The two days were extended to four. On the third, May in- 
 sisted upon a visit to the negro church. Augustus accompanied 
 Zaffiri and his wife on the gallop to the humble structure. 
 
 Arrived at the church, Zaffiri delayed, atiended by the footman, 
 to make a sketch of the picturesque building, while May and 
 Augustus took a turn in advance about the parsonage. 
 
 In the midst of her drawing, a hump-backed man came from the 
 interior to the church door and bowed, saying, — 
 
 "God bless you, lady. This is none other than the house of 
 God, and the very gate of Heaven." 
 
 She knew by Lucy's description that this must be the veritable 
 Edmund Stone of Cloudspire noteriety. 
 
 " Good morning, sir, are you the pastor?" 
 
 " Through the grace of God, I have been chosen to bear the 
 Word of Life to Mr. Fairland's slaves." 
 
 " Do you find satisfaction in delivering the gospel to these be- 
 nighted ones ? " 
 
 " I feel that I am walking in the path of duty, my dear lady ; and 
 that my labors are wonderfully blessed among them. We have a 
 constant revival — a thronging at the mercy-seat. The Savior has 
 no respect of persons, lady." 
 
 What a sinister, foxy look, thought Zaffiri. How little he 
 suspects I know his hypocrisy. 
 
 " Do you think, sir, that these slaves are capable of understand- 
 ing theological doctrines ?" 
 
 " No, madam, they are little above the brutes, in capacity. I 
 teach them mostly simple, practical deductions from those sublime 
 doctrines ; such as the fear of an avenging God, submission to 
 their owners, a faithful performance of their tasks, the sin of pur- 
 loining, the duty of charity, and the absolute need of their conver- 
 sion and baptism into the kingdom of Christ." 
 
 " Do you think this furnishing them with the means of grace is a 
 pa} ing investment ? " asked Zaffiri, still sitting on her pony. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 689 
 
 " I know it to be so, dear lady. The amount paid me by Mr. 
 Fairland for: my salary and support is returned to him ten fold in 
 his rice and cotton crop. They fully understand that bondage in 
 their normal condition, by the decrees of God. They know that 
 they are under the curse of Canaan. I teach it to them daily 
 with the open Bible in my hands, dear lady." 
 
 "Then I should judge religion is the slave- master's most effect- 
 ive auxiliary." 
 
 " You judge rightly, madame. Religton not only keeps the hoe 
 moving, but it prevents runaways. The master has lost but two 
 fugitives since I came here — a black woman and her husband. 
 They are more than glad to wait for an entrance into the golden 
 streets of^the New Jerusalem, for freedom." With a sly, crafty leer 
 at ZafT[iri,"he added, " I convince them it is safer to wait, than to be 
 hunted, caught and ironed by marshals and their deputies, in the 
 law-abiding North." 
 
 " I can corroborate your assertions, sir, that the New Jerusalem 
 is the safer place. May I ask if my friend. Major Fairland, has 
 recovered those two fugitives? Has he availed himself of that 
 avenue of remuneration, the Fugitive Slave Bill.'"' 
 
 Edmund Stone clamped down the open board steps of the 
 church with the agility of the dwarf of " Notre Dame," and hold- 
 ing his broad-rimmed plantation hat in his hand, approached Zaf- 
 firi. He hesitated, as if rolling a sweet morsel under his tongue, 
 then said, — 
 
 " In answer to your kind inquiry, I will explain that Mr. Fairland 
 recently made his loss more than good by the seizure of another 
 woman and two children in Pennsylvania, for Rachel, the fugitive. 
 By the aid of the law, he picked up a black man in Ohio for Guy, 
 that he lost. Guy was Rachel's husband. They were not his 
 slaves ; but his loss is made good, kind lady. We believe that all 
 of African blood should be reduced to slavery, and the Fugitive 
 Slave Bill is admirably adapted to this humane purpose." 
 
 "Receive my thanks for this agreeable information," said Zaf£ri. 
 " I am glad to meet so worthy a pastor. I fear Mr. Dentelle and 
 lady have mistaken the route. Footman, can you guide me back 
 to the family ? " 
 
 " I knew every step of the way, mistress." 
 
690 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " Let the lady return by the river-road, footman, if it pleases 
 her," suggested the pastor. 
 
 "Thank you, it pleases me well. Good morning." 
 
 May ran down the flight of steps from the piazza, to meet Zaffiri 
 on her return, begging a thousand pardons for leaving her so 
 rudely. 
 
 "Augustus made a blunder in the routes, and then he said 
 the footman might take jiw/ back before us. At last we found our- 
 selves galloping along that delightful river road."' 
 
 She threw one arm carelessly about her friend, and held away 
 her long riding-habit with the other hand. Thus they slowly as- 
 cended the stairs. 
 
 " I came by the river, also," said Zaffiri. 
 
 " We discovered three graves under the trees," said May. " Two 
 were marked by plain head-stones. One read, ' William Steele,' 
 and the other, 'Willie..' Mrs. Fairland says William Steele 
 was their overseer, and was stabbed by the negroes." 
 
 " Why did they murder him ? " asked Zaffiri. 
 
 " He was awfully cruel,'' said May. " Mr. Fairland took no notice 
 of his death, for the overseer deserved it. ' 
 
 "Ugh! 1 would not allow his grave to disgrace that pleasant 
 spot ! " exclaimed May, shaking with nervous horror. 
 
 They dropped into seats on the verandah. 
 
 " We are going to have a grand plantation feast to-day, and 
 plenty of royal Southern cheer, Zaffiri. A dozen rice planters and 
 iheir families will be here. We are to have music from Charleston, 
 and a hop to night ! Oh ! I am so happy ! " 
 
 She drew a sigh. 
 
 '• Happy for the nonce ! What shall I be, to-morrow, when I have 
 to say ' Farewell,' to you ?" 
 
 "The very cream of delight has been crowded in these four 
 weeks," replied iSIadame Lambelle. " I have breathed again 
 tiie air and basked again in the skies of Italy. We shall meet 
 again, my dear May." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 69 1 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 HOW is our patient this morning, Doctor Clarendon ?" ^ 
 " Had she any sleep during the night ? " he asked in a 
 suppressed tone. 
 
 Zaffiri shook her head. , -n /: j 
 
 The sick woman rolled her head restlessly on the pillow, fixed 
 
 her eyes on the doctor, and said, — ^ 1 • 
 
 " Dayton, is everything ready ? my trunks are packed. ^ Go bring 
 back to me the pretty babe and her nurse. She will thrive on the 
 sea air, and grow to be like me. Dayton, does she look like me 
 now ? Oh ! she has the same golden-red hair as I had, when I was 
 an infant » It will be auburn and wavy, like mine, when she grows 
 to a beautiful young lady. See, Dayton, like this hair of mine, that 
 
 you've kissed so often ! " ,,,,,.. j 
 
 Her weak hand essayed to reach some of the locks that strayed 
 
 over Uie pillow. She drew out of the disheveled mass a waving 
 
 tress of auburn, threaded with gold, and faintly smiled on the 
 
 doctor. . ^ ' ^A . 
 
 " You will marry me then, Dayton, in Europe, as you promised , 
 
 before the altar in some grand cathedral, solemn and dim — dim — 
 
 ^She sighed, turned away, and wept the gentlest of tears — feebly 
 
 wringino: her shadowy hands. , m r. ni • i 
 
 "Thl^crood old doctor retired from the bed, while Zaffiri bent 
 
 over the |rieving woman, laid her cooling palm on her forehead, 
 
 and dried her falling tears. , 
 
 " There, there," she said in a low soothing tone, Dear Ueles- 
 
 tine, Zaffiri is here. Do you not know Zaffiri ? " 
 
 Celestine turned her vacant gaze upon her, and answered,— 
 " Yes, nurse, bring my pretty babe ! my baby with the blue eyes 
 
 and waxen skin. She will be a proud child. She has high birth. 
 
 She is the picture of Dayton ! Dress her nurse, we are going to 
 
 XT t " 
 
 "zaffiri obeyed a sign from the doctor, and both left the chamber. 
 Mary watched Celestine. 
 
692 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Zaffiri and Celestine by invitation had passed the winter in 
 Cloudspire, with Mr. and Mrs. Link. Since her visit to Savannah, 
 she hed ventured to spend the winters in the States ; the coldest 
 months in New York in her own home, but during the summer, 
 when the Southerner was omnipresent in the North, she was driven 
 by her husband's fears to Canada, like a leaf before the wind. 
 
 Mr. Lambelle wishing to pass most of the winter in Washington 
 and Charleston, she had the opportunity of accepting Mary's re- 
 peated solicitation for a renewal of the intimate friendship of past 
 years, in her own attractive home. 
 
 Celestine had been with Zaffiri four years, and their affection 
 was mutual. Whatever sorrows had fallen upon her earlier years, 
 the grinding memory had nearly vanished. Restored to her former 
 social plane by the love of Zaffiri and the wealth of Mr. Lambelle, 
 a degree of natural vivacity and dignified cheerfulness returned. 
 Madame Lambelle felt that the happiness of her Southern friend 
 was in her keeping, and she was never remiss in fostering care. 
 
 Celestine accompanied Zaffiri on her numerous journeys \.ofdcs 
 and the drama. Her dress equaled Zaffiri's in quality and richness. 
 On the other hand, the noble bearing of Celestine proved a protec- 
 tion to Zaffiri from the suspicion of her own original condition ; 
 for, in the country, Celestine was denominated by gossiping coteries, 
 " The rich Southern Lady." In fashionable metropolitan circles 
 she was welcomed with fawning cordiality as the accomplished 
 Southern heiress of untold wealth. 
 
 The doctor and Madame Lambelle withdrew to the parlor for 
 consultation. 
 
 " Oh, doctor ! " said Zaffiri, "do you think this sickness will ter- 
 minate fatally ? She does not recognize one of us." 
 
 " That is not strange — the brain is affected — it's the nature of 
 the. malady. It is typhoid, madame. Our climate has got the 
 better of her, and besides, she must have suffered a deep sorrow. 
 Poignant memories will often grapple in with disease, and heighten 
 its violence. She must have sleep, madame j ice must be bound 
 upon her head. Do not check her incoherences ; her sentences 
 are but the bubbles of a disordered mind. Admit no one to her 
 chamber but yourself and Mary. Mary is like an angel hovering 
 around the sick-bed." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 693 
 
 " How long, doctor, before a change will be perceptible ? " •• 
 
 "A week, perhaps ; meantime, get rest yourself. It makes no 
 difference now, who administers care, so it be done faithfully. 
 When reason returns, she will need yoit^ madame. The sight of 
 you about her will be better than all my nostrums." 
 
 The bandana waved a truce, and both returned to the chamber. 
 
 Celestine's eyes followed Doctor Clarendon about the room. 
 
 " Oh ! Dayton, you have grown old. Your beautiful locks are 
 white with age. Cruel, cruel neglect ! Give me back my lovely 
 child ! my innocent babe ! Why, Dayton, did you win my young 
 heart and then leave me to suffer alone ? I had no fortune, but i 
 had proud blood and birth. You robbed me of my child — oi your 
 child ! Give her back ! I am alone ! and the world is cold ! oh ! 
 so cold ! " 
 
 She shuddered, drawing long sighs. The good old doctor has- 
 tened away with directions to Mr. Link to come for him at any 
 time he might be needed. 
 
 " Go ! leave me ! " said Celestine, as he passed out. *' Leave 
 me, Dayton ! you have winnowed my life, and robbed me of its 
 sweetness ! you left nothing but chaff to me ! " 
 
 For days, Zaffiri and Mary listened to the pitiful promptings of 
 insanity \ they made no attempt to probe the mystery of her delir- 
 ium, but waited, unquestioning, the return of reason. As Doctor 
 Clarendon had predicted, after a v/eek of hallucination, she rallied. 
 She awoke from a long sleep, and said to Zaffiri,- — 
 
 " I think I must be quite ill \ how long have I been here ? ' , 
 
 "Two weeks, Celestine." 
 
 " I think my mind has wandered ; am I better now ? " 
 
 "The crisis is past. With perfect quiet and patient care, you 
 will be restored to health. Doctor Clarendon says.' 
 
 "What day of the " 
 
 "Do not talk more. It is the sixth of March;" and Zaffiri 
 signed silence, by raising her finger to her lips. 
 
 About the tenth of April, Celestine was able to depart with Zaf- 
 firi on her journey to Canada. 
 
 It was the memorable year of 186 1. Mr. Lambelle had written 
 his wife from New York, without signature, accounts of his obser- 
 vations in Washington and at the South. He was present in Co- 
 
694 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 lunabia and Charleston, at the convention which ' passed the 
 Ordinance of Secession. He had described to her the congratula- 
 tions, the huzzas, the jubilant ringing of bells, and firing of artillery 
 in those cities. He had run down to Savannah and witnessed the 
 parting of May with Augustus, who joined the first company of 
 eighty men that was formed to march to Charleston. He had seen 
 the palmetto-flag raised over the Custom House and Post Office in 
 Charleston, and wherever he had traveled, he had witnessed the 
 daily preparatory practice of squads of minute-men. He had 
 heard their martial tramp in Charleston, by night and day. 
 
 He had been in the Capitol, at the admission of Free Kansas 
 into the Union ; and, after attention to his business in New York, 
 he was to return to Charleston. 
 
 This news argued favorably for the close of Zaffiri's expatriation. 
 She held many congratulatory interviews with Minnie, and looked 
 forward to a day of release from the thraldom of the Fugitive Slave 
 Bill. Paul grew young again, his dark eyes were illuminated with 
 a new light, and his habitual gravity changed to unwonted gayety. 
 
 On the twenty-fifth of April, Zaffiri received a letter from Claude, 
 which set the house in general commotion. It ran thus, — 
 
 " My dear Zaffiri,— I have made my last journey to the South. Have just 
 returned from Charleston, where I witnessed the redaction of Fort Sumpter by 
 the Nation of South Carolina ! It was a fearful sight. General Anderson 
 and his men marched out in order, the band playing. He gave the old flag a 
 salute of fifty guns, and hauled her down with the firing of the last. 
 
 "Language cannot describe the frenzied exhilaration of the Charlestonians, at 
 their bloodless victory. The streets were thronged with enthusiastic whites. 
 Each repeated the story to the other, with rapture. Bells rung, wine flowed 
 like water, and the prevailing toast was, ' Danmatwji to the Yankees: I believe 
 they intend by this fratricidal bluster to bring the North to their knees. Their 
 terms, enunciating 'Surrender or die,' will intensify into one word, 'Surrender!' 
 But I judge the day of compromises is over. I believe Abraham Lincoln, our 
 then president-elect, made the last compromise to Southern mobocrats when he 
 went through Baltimore, unknown and undiscovered, on the twenty-third of 
 February, like a hunted fugitive on the Underground Railroad. Zaffiri, the ter- 
 rible ordeal of War must decide what a few words of Christ's teaching should 
 have accomplished, long ago. 
 
 " My dear wife. I consider your term of exile at an end. The South will now 
 hunt the white citizens of the North, e7i masse, with brigade, regiment, and 
 squadron. Arrange to leave Canada, immediately, and to nestle again in your 
 own happy home. I consider slavery at the near beginning of the end. North- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 695 
 
 em troops are swarming through New York to Washington. I shall be in 
 Montreal, in three days. 
 
 •* With undying affection, 
 
 " Claude." 
 
 "What news from the South? " asked Celestine. 
 
 *' Fort Sumter is taken by South Carolina, which act virtually 
 declares war." 
 
 " You cannot suppose, Zaffiri, there will be war between the sec- 
 tions ? The North will pacify the South. The South are a fiery 
 people." 
 
 " The president has called for seventy jRve thousand men to put 
 down rebellion. Claude writes that multitudes of armed men are 
 swarming through New York to Washington. Celestine, we are 
 going now directly to New York to reside." 
 
 " I believe I prefer Canada ; for the war will be carried on in 
 the North. Southern men all declare it. Northern cities Vv'ill be 
 ravaged, and towns destroyed; the whole North will be devastated. 
 If you were Southern born, Zaffiri, we might take up our residence 
 there. It would be much safer. But I should be unwilling to part 
 from you and return alone." 
 
 "Would it surprise you to learn that I am Southern born ! " 
 asked Zaffiri, bending over Celestine, and peering laughingly into 
 her eyes. 
 
 " I trust there is no mystery in your life, dear friend," she replied 
 with apprehension. 
 
 " My life is an enigma which has been solved by but one person. 
 Celestine, in childhood I was a slave, sold on the auction-table in 
 Charleston." 
 
 Celestine looked at Zaffiri, appalled, then covered her face 
 with her hands ; tears filtered through her fingers. 
 
 She lifted her face suddenly, gazing at her with a searching look. 
 
 "Zaffiri, there is not a drop of colored blood in your veins." 
 
 " No, Celestine ; I am pure white, and of high birth ; my family 
 name was ' Warham.' " 
 
 " What a terrible enigma ! " gasped Celestine, turning very pale. 
 " Dear Zaffiri, assist me to the sofa." 
 
 Zaffiri dropped upon the carpet by her side, and said assur- 
 ingly,— 
 
696 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "Not a terrible denouement ! Do I resemble any person you 
 ever knew ? " 
 
 " Do not question me ; let me hold the respect of one friend." 
 
 " Celestine, let us shorten this agony. I know all the secrets of 
 your life and mine. I am Dayton Warham's child. I am the pretty 
 babe you asked for, and wept for, at Ivlary's house in Cloudspire. 
 Do I resemble my father .? " 
 
 Zaffiri rung for Minnie. Celestine had fainted. When she re- 
 covered, Zaffiri was chafing her hands. Celestine begged her to 
 repeat her words which she scarcely heard. 
 
 " It will overcome you — shall I not defer farther conversa- 
 tion ? " 
 
 " No, no, repeat those words." 
 
 " Zaffiri is the pretty blue-eyed babe you asked for, and wept 
 for at Mary's home. You are my beautiful, high-bred Southern 
 mother." 
 
 " It cannot be ! it cannot be 1 " 
 
 The bewildered woman sprang up to a sitting posture. 
 
 "It is not possible ! " 
 
 " Lie down, Celestine. Rest on your pillows, and step by step I 
 will give you indubitable proof." 
 
 " How long since you believed this ? " 
 
 " I knew 3'OU to be my mother in Savannah. May learned your 
 misfortune from Augustus, and confided the circumstances to me, 
 not drcajuing that she had given me the last precious link of a chain 
 which led me to my mother." 
 
 " Oh, Zaffiri ! why have you not divulged this to me before ? " 
 
 " Because I could have been taken back to slavery, if by any 
 chance my secret had come to light. That is the reason why I 
 have been driv^en to Canada ; but now there is other employment 
 for both North and South, than the rendition of fugitives. Can 
 you endure the recital of the strange events that have brought us 
 together ? " 
 
 " I must hear, though I die in the hearing ! " 
 
 Zaffiri recounted her escape from Charleston ; her eductition, 
 and marriage with I\Ir. Lambelle ; her husband's purchase of old 
 mauma in New Orleans ; old mauma's connection with Dayton 
 Warham ; his marriage, and the death of his wife ; mauma's care 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 697 
 
 of a little blue-eyed babe in Charleston, with the promise of free- 
 dom ; mauma's sale ; the kindness of Mr. Weintze and his wife in 
 sending her North ; how she had learned in St. Louis of his 
 scourging, and loss of property j how jVIr. Lambelle \vent to 
 Charleston and brought him to New York ; how mauma recog- 
 nized him. 
 
 Then she related how old mauma learned of Celestine's mar- 
 riage engagement with Mr. Warham, from the servants on the 
 plantation, and how Minnie first, and May afterwards, had given 
 her name and residence. 
 
 "Minnie! what opportunity had Minnie to know my name or 
 my past ? What temerity ! She must have been ubiquitous and 
 enjoyed a perennial youth." 
 
 " My precious mother ! No, Celestine, I will not address you 
 by that name which makes my heart thrill, till you are convinced 
 of my claim. I have deceived you in regard to Minnie. The 
 name of Warham which she has adopted has appeared to trouble 
 you. I have observed the shadow that fell upon your face, when- 
 ever she was called Mrs. Warham. Celestine, do not be startled, 
 Minnie 'was the wife of Frederick Warham, Dayton Warham's 
 son." 
 
 " No, dear Zaffiri, she could not be the wife of a white South 
 Carolinian. We do not allow the evidence of negroes. South, and 
 you see her first assertion is false." 
 
 " Celestine, have patience with us all. I have been educated 
 North, and have imbibed sentiments at variance with Southern 
 statutes. I think Minnie was entirely Fred's wife. He loved 
 Minnie and his children. He chose no other wife ; and when he 
 died he bestowed twenty thousand dollars upon herself and his 
 two boys. That amount has been invested by Claude at the 
 personal request of Frederick. Minnie has her 'free papers,' 
 signed by his own hand. Allow me to ring for Minnie ; she will 
 lift the veil between us." 
 
 " By no means, Zaffiri ! There is no necessity for proving to 
 me what the tears and grief of nearly a lifetime attests. I, dear 
 Zaffiri, can unfold to you more than Minnie, or May, or old mauma 
 included. If you are the blue-eyed babe that Dayton Warham 
 carried to mauma, if Mrs. Weintze has assured you of your iden- 
 
698 * WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 tity with that babe, then Celestme Channaire, wronged, disowned, de- 
 spised a?id penniless, is your mother J " 
 
 She covered her face with her hands again, and sobbed aloud. 
 
 Zaffiri knelt by her mother, held her in her arms, kissed the 
 delicate hands that still hid the dear face, and wdth an utterance 
 choked by tears, said, — 
 
 "Then, as old mauma and IMamma Weintze corrobrate each 
 other, Zaffiri, the fugitive from American Slavery, is no longer an 
 orphan and an outcast. Thank the merciful Father! My adored 
 and honored mother shall suffer no more pain that her daughter 
 can alleviate. Believe it, precious mother, Zaffiri is your long-lost, 
 blue-eyed babe ! Claude knovvs all dear mother! he'has patiently 
 waited to render you the reverent homage of an affectionate son. 
 The beautiful bow of promise spans your clouded life. Dayton 
 Warham. the heartless man, who added a blasted young life to the 
 humiliation of financial disaster, has passed beyond all human ken. 
 The last link between your past and the present — his son Fredrick, 
 has followed his father. Minnie will accompany us to New York, 
 where she will take passage for France, for the purpose of educa- 
 ting her two sons. The name of Warham need not receive the 
 slightest allusion." 
 
 ''And yet, my dear, lovely Zaffiri, that name of Warham — that 
 one name would have been to me a beautiful word of incantation, 
 calling up around me the full fruition of my most ardent hopes and 
 all the world holds most sacred to woman." 
 
 " But the world or society is a frigid judge. ■«lts icy regard ap- 
 proves only a specious surface. As the wife of Dayton Warham, 
 my much-abused mother, the fruition of your ardent hopes could 
 not have been realized. The sanctuary of 3'our wedded home 
 would have had a cloister of tears for an unhappy wife. I beg you 
 to think yourself happy in escaping the bonds of marriage with a 
 man who could become intoxicated with the dewy sweetness of a 
 trusting, innocent, girlish love, such as yours, and then leave you 
 to years of anguish and cruel scorn. A man, too, who could cast 
 his own helpless infant, — bone of his bone, and flesh of his flesh, — 
 into the dust ; and with his spurning foot toss her. to the auction- 
 block to be sold — a slave. 
 
 " No, no, dear Celestine. I insist, marriage would not have 
 
WHITE MAY AND BLACK JUNE. C99 
 
 J U-. „,M,rf. T declare, vehemently, that I repudiate his 
 changed h. "• I^'^f ^^'d^rate wrong. I, who picked up 
 r:aJ'ofplrebr°nL Charleston sua^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 speaker kneeling before her .^^^^ ^^^,^ ^^^p^^^ ^^^ 
 
 the advantages of have the poli^i or _^^^_ ^ ^^^.^ 
 
 Zaffiri ; you, who seek to .fff^fXal appeal. I am bewildered, 
 claim you. I dare not Y'^ld^Xrom evintsseems to whirl me, 
 I can scarcely breathe ^ maelstrom o beautiful vision, 
 
 ''Sr/'obedienee is henceforth the sweetest pleasure of your 
 
 '^c'elS'fdt^her fi pressed, and the touch of lips upon her 
 forehead. Then the door closed "PO" her. 
 
 Zaffiri, before going down stairs, tapped at M.nnie 
 
 entered. ■ -c- „ alreadv ? Lay everything 
 
 " Busy with P'-eparations for France al-e^^y y ^ J^^ ^.^ 
 
 ^n:t:::rv^^^J^-/ Ss:^e-s:.ere z ^^. 
 
 bt're°plamer 'stll^^^r^th tlPennformation. and 
 
 requests undisturbed quiet. 
 Zaffiri wept, and continued,— 
 
700 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " I find in my heart a deep affection for my mother, and an in- 
 definable joy at her almost miraculous restoration to me ; and 
 these feelings have increased yearly, while I was faithfully guarding 
 the secret. 
 
 " But, Minnie, I can never cease to feel a horror for slavery, and 
 the tenderest interest and friendship for all who may have been 
 its victims, be they black, or brown, or yellow — or white like my- 
 self. My mother cannot harmonize with me in this. She has been 
 blinded by constant contact with the terrible crime of human 
 bondage. Her interests have been bound up with it, and she 
 still cherishes the un-Christ-like pride of superiority that clings to 
 the white race. These sentiments, alone, will divide us at the 
 present ; but I leave all to the mollifying influence of time and en- 
 lightenment. I consider a devoted love for my mother compatible 
 with an affection for my fellow- sufferers from slavery." 
 
 " I believe, Zaffiri, your resolve meets the approval of Heaven. 
 If my dear Fred had known that I should have fallen into such 
 consideration as you have shown me, he would have been relieved 
 of a burden of dread for my future in his last hours. Where shall 
 I find the unmistakable respect and friendship that Zaffiri has 
 evinced for me ? " 
 
 " Minnie, 3'ou will find it in France. In Europe, the negro — 
 the real negro — has received honor from crowned heads. At the 
 Uffize, in a picture gallery, I have seen three paintings of the Magi 
 by as many different artists. Two were painted in the fifteenth cen- 
 tury and one by Albrecht Durer in the sixteenth. -^One of these kings, 
 the youngest, is a full-blooded negro. I have also seen this black 
 king in Andrea del Sarto's magnificent fresco, in the portico of the 
 * Annunciata.' It is a legend of the Roman Catholic Church 
 History perpetuates this negro's honor. The portrait by Vasasi of 
 Alexander Medici, the first Duke of Florence, shows him a mulatto. 
 For further proof, in the cabinet of engraved gems, in all the por- 
 traits of the Medicean family are seen the woolly hair, the thick 
 lips, and flat nose of the mulatto duke." 
 
 Minnie indulged in a little incredulous laugh, and asked, — 
 
 " How did Prince Alexander Medici become first Duke of Flor- 
 ence ?" 
 
 "I declare, Minnie, you are manifesting the same want of failh 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 70I 
 
 in color that tinctures the universal American minds. I've half a 
 mind to be vexed with you. But there are no arguments so good 
 as facts. So I'll explain. History informs us — mind, now — 
 history informs the world that he was the illegitimate son of Cardi- 
 nal Giulio Medici, by a negress. This cardinal became Pope 
 Clement the Eighth, but amid pontifical glory, His Holiness did not 
 ignore his mulatto son. He had him brought up as his nephew, 
 and in 1530 he clothed him in the ducal purple of Florence. Then 
 there's the grand termination. Charles Fifth could not have de- 
 spised color, for he gave his daughter, Margaret, in marriage to 
 this same duke — and she was of the proud house of Hapsburg — 
 and to show further that Margaret did not suffer ostracism from 
 other families of royalty, her second marriage, after the death of 
 her mulatto husband, Prince Alexander Medici, was ratified with 
 Prince Farnese of Parma and she became Regent of Belgium 
 under the reign of her half-brother, Philip Second of Spain." 
 
 " What a career that would be for a colored man, even the son 
 of a Southerner, in this Republic, without rank or pageant, to be- 
 come even the governer of a State. I will go to Italy during my 
 stay in Europe, if for nothing more, to inspect this Grand Duke's 
 portrait, and to trace his lineage in the Medicean gems. But Zaf- 
 firi, that transpired long ago \ has not contempt for color sprung 
 up in later years .'* " 
 
 " Oh, no ! President Roberts, of Liberia, a mulatto^ and an in- 
 telligent statesman, dined at the Lord Mayor's in London ; and 
 Baron Damier, a black embassador from Hayti, was received in 
 England, admitted to diplomatic parties, and the public receptions 
 of Queen Victoria. 
 
 " In France, too, the French Court admitted a black representa- 
 tive of Soulougue, the emperor of Hayti. Observe the difference 
 Minnie, between a Monarchy and a Republic. Mason, our Amer- 
 ican Minister, was present at the French Court, on that occasion. 
 An Englishman present, pointed Mason to the Embassador of Sou- 
 lougue, and said, — 
 
 "'What do you think?' 
 
 " Mason replied, — 
 
 " ' I think ^ clothes and all, he is worth one thousand dollars I ' 
 
 "They extend their property right to the white race as well," 
 
702 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 said Minnie, ''when a Corsair chance offers. If you, Zaffiri, could 
 be herded and sold with African slaves, that Mason would as 
 gladly set a price upon Louis Napoleon, as upon the black repre- 
 sentative of Hayti." 
 
 '• I agree, Minnie ; now, compare our Congress with the proud 
 Court of France. In a debate in the Senate, on authorizing the 
 President of the United States to appoint diplomatic representa- 
 tives to the Republics of Hayti and Liberia, respective, Davis of 
 Kentucky, said of this Haytian ambassador,— 
 
 *''VVell, a great big negro fellow, dressed out with his silver or 
 gold lace clothes, in the most fantastic and gaudy style, presented 
 himself in the Court of Louis Napoleon, and, I admit, was received. 
 Now, sir, I want no such exhibition as that in our Capitol, and in 
 our government. Further, (and he spoke for the whole South) he 
 had no objections to the recognition, by oar government, of the 
 existence of those two Republics as independent powers ; he had 
 no objection to commercial relations between our country and those 
 two republics, nor to the negotiation of a treaty of amity and com- 
 merce and friendship between our government and theirs. To 
 what did he object, then t To reciprocal, diplomatic relations be- 
 tween our country and theirs. He said if the Republic of Hayti 
 and Liberia should send a full-blooded negro to our government, 
 in the capacity of minister plenipotentiary, or charge iVaffairs^ he 
 could demand that he be received, precisely on the same terms of 
 equality with the white representatives from the Powers of the 
 earth, composed of white people. When the president opened his 
 saloons to the reception of the diplomatic corps — when he gave 
 his entertainments to such diplomats, the representatives of what- 
 ever color, from those countries, would have the right to demand 
 admission upon terms of equality with all other diplomats ; and, if 
 they had familiesconsisting of negro wives and negro daughters, 
 they would have the right to ask that their families also be invited 
 on such occasions, and that they go there, and mingle with the 
 whites." 
 
 "Oh, my!" laughed Minnie, ** how ridiculously absurd, and fas- 
 tidiously select ! in Washington, those Southern Statesmen ! At 
 home, they would have wooed those same Haytien and Liberian 
 wives and daughters with peculiar blandishments 1 " 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 7 03 
 
 "An analysis quite consistent with facts," answered Zaffiri ; " but 
 I think this'dupUcity is drawing to a close. I am impressed that 
 the taking of Sumter is the first act of Emancipation. The North, 
 although seeking peace b> unhallowed means, has a strength of 
 resolve the South has not sounded. They will contest for the 
 Union ; but out of the ashes of War will arise the Phenix of Free- 
 dom for all bowed beneath the yoke of oppression." 
 
 " I wish I might share your faith, Zaffiri." 
 
 " Minnie, I propose to celebrate the firing upon Sumter, by a 
 dinner to-day. My mojher will remain in seclusion, therefore it 
 it can give her no pain. Come down with me, and let us arrange 
 for the dinner with Paul." 
 
 With their arms thrown carelessly about each other, the two 
 beautiful women descended to prepare for the evening's sacra- 
 ment. 
 
 The sun went down — a blaze of light illuminated the dining- 
 room. The long table was laid for guests, and a bouquet of rare 
 hot-house flowers smiled by each plate. Over the centre extended 
 an arch, bearing these words in silver letters on a pale-blue ground, 
 '' The first gun fired at Sumter r This arch and sentiment were 
 wreathed with evergreen, rosebuds and callas. Beneath the first 
 arch, which was very high, reaching up among the glass fringes of 
 the chandlier which dyed its waxen lilies with prismatic purples, 
 burning topaz and quivering sapphires, rose another arch, supported 
 by pillars — a triumphial arch, from the keystone of which de- 
 pended an exquisitely formed floral bell. Upon the bow of the 
 arch-triumphant one read this inscription, ' The Tocsin of Emanci- 
 
 patmi.''' 
 
 Zaffiri and Minnie came from their dressing-rooms faultlessly ar- 
 rayed, in the richness of reception attire. They were in the dining- 
 room, engaged in rapturous admiration of the lovely foreshadowing 
 of the morning's prophecy, and the artistic skill in which Zaffiri's 
 orders had been followed. 
 
 A halt of carriage wheels, and a ring of the door-bell was noticed. 
 Every avenue to the dining-room was quickly closed, Zaffiri re- 
 marking, — 
 
 " Our guests are all here — how troublesome ! " 
 
 Paul summoned Madame Lambelle to the parlor without cards. 
 
704 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Entering the grand saloon, she took a hasty step forward, and with 
 an arm about each of the new comers, she exclaimed, — 
 
 " Dear me ! Doctor and Mrs. Clarendon ! what brought you to 
 Canada?" 
 
 "You, yourself ! " said Mrs. Clarendon, smilingly. 
 
 " We came," said the doctor, to proclaim the year of Jubilee, and 
 to set the captives free. War is declared by the hostile and foreign 
 nation of South Carolina, against the United States ! This is the 
 bcffinninsr of the end. The exiles will return to their hearthstones 
 and accept the sanguinary terms of perpetual amnesty." 
 
 In token of the sincerity of his proclamation, the red bandana 
 waved a salute. 
 
 " But what is all this dazzling splendor of diamonds, velvet and 
 lace ? " asked Mrs. Clarendon. " Our arrival is inopportune, 
 Madame Lambelle. Give us no attention — attend to your engage- 
 
 ment " 
 
 " I will do so with your permission ; the dinner hour is at hand. 
 
 There will be sufficient time after. I cannot express the delight 
 I feel in welcoming you under this roof, and at this precise day 
 and hour. I can scarcely credit my senses, that I see your faces, 
 and hear your dear voices ! " 
 
 Zaffiri runs: for a servant to attend her friends to their chamber, 
 and improved their absence by seating her invited guests at the 
 table, that she might usher in the good old doctor and his wife to 
 a surprise. 
 
 No bell was rung for dinner, from respect to Celestine ; but the 
 doctor and his wife soon entered the saloon, where Zaffiri awaited 
 them. She ushered them into the dining-room, where the guests 
 at the well-filled table were conversing pleasantly till the appear- 
 ance of the " dear madame," as they termed Zaffiri. 
 
 Upon crossing the threshold, she addressed all. 
 
 "My friends, Madame Channaire is suffering under nervous 
 prostration in her chamber ; it wdll be necessary to preserve quiet 
 in our celebration. I have the pleasure of presenting Doctor and 
 Mrs. Clarendon, from Cloudspire, Massachusetts. I know those 
 names are very dear to some present ; but I beg the favor of de- 
 ferring congratulations until our general interview in my private 
 parlor." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 705 
 
 The company were all standing, as they rose immediately upon 
 the doctor's entrance. Zaffiri continued, — 
 
 " For the promotion of unrestrained conversation, I will proceed 
 with the introductions." 
 
 The doctor and his wife remained near the entrance, and silently 
 bowed, his face lighting up in the old way, with the eathusiasm 
 which the unlooked-for scene inspired. 
 
 " Mrs. Warham and her two children, from South Carolina," 
 said ZafSri. She passed on. " Paul Snow, from the same State, 
 an acquaintance of Mr. Link." She laid her hand upon the stout 
 shoulder of a neatly dressed black man, whose glad smiles were 
 misty with emotion. "Robert Adams, our coachman; his wife 
 and three children. Mr. Adams is from Virginia." 
 
 The doctor bowed very low, and furtively cleared his sight, by a 
 rapid use of the bandana. 
 
 Zaffiri passed round to the other side and stopped by a fine-looking 
 mullatto, wearing upon his head, more upon the left side, a black 
 embroidered velvet cap, with a mass of short shining curls, un- 
 covered, escaping from the band. A handsome brunette wife, as 
 half the world would say, with wavy hair, was by him, and four chil- 
 dren beyond. 
 
 "Marquis Clarendon and wife," she said, "formerly from 
 Charleston, recently from Philadelphia.', She placed her hand 
 affectionately upon the shoulder of the children respectfully, 
 "Lucy Clarendon, Garrison Clarendon, Toussaint Clarendon, King 
 Clarendon." 
 
 The doctor accompanied his bow, with the remark that he hoped 
 for a further acquaintance. That, as their patronymic indicated, 
 their lineage must have had some connection with his own. 
 
 "I am sure we have one common Father, sir," replied Mar- 
 quis. 
 
 The doctor and Mrs. Clarendon were seated at the head of the 
 table before the smoking meats, to which Zaffiri pointed, saying, — 
 
 " Will the doctor serve, as the New England custom is ? We 
 have no servants to-night. Humility, in view of the blessing of 
 freedom and equality about to fall upon us, becomes this feast of 
 commemoration. My friends," she continued her gaze along the 
 table, " let us serve each other." 
 
7o6 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Zaffiri took her seat at the foot of the board. 
 
 A low hum of animated conversation, interspersed with quiet 
 pleasantries, heightened the enjoyment of the profuse and elabor- 
 ate entertainment. The festive hours lengthened. 
 
 The various emotions pictured on different countenances, while 
 contemplating the sentiments inscribed upon the arches, had a 
 curious interest for the doctor and his wife. Grieved unbelief, 
 patient despair, a flush of hope, a smile, a tear, a shiver, shadows 
 of bitter memories, a gleam of manhood's pride, appealing eyes 
 suddenly raised and meekly dropped; all these were carefully 
 noticed. 
 
 Short and pertinent speeches closed the sitting at the table. 
 The doctor yielded to the general solicitation, and took the lead. 
 
 " ]\Iy friends, he said, " I cannot but remark upon the appropri- 
 ate device that arches this elegantly spread board. ' The first gun 
 fired at Sumter,^ I believe, is a whisper of Freedom to the capti'e, 
 from the Almighty Throne. The guilty record of the past, in the 
 judicial, ecclesiastical and civil departments of our nation, has proved 
 that public and private conscience is dumb and dead ; that it can 
 neither indicate the course of justice nor follow in the path of 
 righteousness. The terrible arbitration of war will decide that 
 slavery must go down. The South, blinded and demented, is 
 building better than it knows. She has struck the first blow on the 
 temple of freedom. Maintain that faith, my friends — the sublime 
 faith in the eternal triumph of justice — for- the lifting up of the 
 oppressed, and the overthrow of the oppressor." 
 
 The white-haired old doctor received his " encore " in the grate- 
 ful looks of his auditors, which rested upon him like a blessing. 
 
 Last of all, Zaffiri rose from her seat. Every eye turned upon 
 her in affectionate homage. In a low, saddened voice she began. 
 
 "With you, exiles, I have lent a straining ear to the cannonading 
 of Sumter. I have been shaken by a tremor of hope and doubt. 
 Out of it all I have been borne on the wings of a foreshadowing 
 faith in the future. Like you, I am a slave and an exile from my 
 country." 
 
 Astonished by this avowal, the festal radiance of the scene grew 
 dim. jMurmurs of " no, no, no," interrupted her. 
 
 " It is true," said Minnie, in a grieved tone. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 707 
 
 "True as the gospel," reiterated the doctor, wrathfully. 
 
 " Like you I have been sold on the table in Charleston. Like 
 you I have been doomed by the curse of Canaan, to toil unpaid 
 through hopeless years. But for the love of that noblest of men, 
 Claude Lanibelle, I should have been struggling with poverty and 
 a stolen liberty for my daily bread. Like some of you, my father 
 was a Southerner, rich in rice and cotton-fields, by robbery. Like 
 you I am a fugitive. Madame Lambelle in velvet and diamonds 
 is your fellow-sufferer." 
 
 Leaning over the table she extended her fair arms, and, trans- 
 figured wiih intent compassion, she cried, — 
 
 " In my heart I embrace you all. Believe with me that we are 
 to be free. Believe with me that the cannonading of Sumter was 
 the musical tocsin of our emancipation." 
 
 Minnie led the way to the private parlor; and Zaffiri, at the 
 entrance to the hall, on the way to her chamber, received a touch- 
 ing expression of Paul's respectful sympathy. He sprang forward, 
 opened the door, held it open for her to pass through, and closed 
 it after her. This was a slave custom which Zaffiri had never al- 
 lowed to be practiced towards her. 
 
 The Doctor and Mrs. Clarendon found themselves in the midst 
 of an attentive circle. He drew Robert down on one side of him 
 and Marquis on the other — in which condition he and the red 
 bandana held high carnival till twelve. 
 
 "Marquis," he said, "remove your cap a moment; let me see 
 how those shots worked. Ugh ! that is an ugly scar ! no hair at 
 all on this side of your head, and the tip of your ear gone, too ! 
 Well, it's a wonder if those revolverites don't lose some of their 
 hair and their heads too, in the coming contest. Vour wrist is stiff. 
 Marquis. That was the hand-cuffed wrist that served you so well." 
 
 "Yes, sir. I fought my way to the river with that hand-cuff; it 
 was my only weapon." 
 
 "Richard and Lucy advise you to return to Philadelphia. You 
 can do so without further danger from kidnappers. Our govern- 
 ment has other business on hand, now." He drew from his pocket 
 a plethoric envelope, and placed it in Marquis' hand, saying, " It 
 contains a hundred dollars for the expenses of your return, from 
 my two royal children." 
 
708 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 The next morning, the chamber-maid delivered a hasty message 
 to Zaffiri from Mrs. Channaire, to visit her room. The interview 
 was short. Arm in arm, they entered the parlor, where, alone, 
 were the Doctor and Mrs. Clarendon. 
 
 " My mother, Madame Channaire," said Zaffiri, with emotion. 
 
 " My daughter. Pearl Z. Channaire Lambelle, Mrs. Clarendon ! 
 My blue-eyed baby, doctor," said Celestine, joyfully. 
 
 Hand-shakings succeeded. Lace handkerchiefs united with the 
 aged bandana in the kindest offices, and the doctor declared 
 that " typhoid " was a most mysterious dispensation. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 " '\ T 7E have had a busy morning," said Mrs. Sterlingworth to 
 V V -Aira. "It has been quite a task to prepare your father's 
 trunks for Charleston, in the close quarters of our two small 
 rooms." 
 
 " It will be quite another task to restore order without a North- 
 ern convenience of cupboard or closet, dear mother." 
 
 The mother and daughter were standing under a live-oak, near 
 the door, which brooded the small, newly-built house and its in- 
 mates. In its shade, they had just exchanged adieus with the hus- 
 band and father. 
 
 Fanny Beame's acquaintance with Friend Sterlingworth, at West 
 Elms, resulted in a life-long attachment and marriage. In the 
 early part of the war he received an appointment by the govern- 
 ment for one of the coast islands of South Carolina. Fanny and 
 Afra, a blooming g!rl of seventeen, accompanied him. 
 
 After the evacuation of Charleston by General Hardee, Mr. 
 Sterlingworth was immediately transferred to that city, leaving 
 Fanny and Afra in their island quarters, for one month. 
 
 "How delightful this morning air is, mother," said Afra ; '" how 
 warm and balmy, I suppose Alderbank is buried in snow, now, 
 with the temperature dancing about zero." 
 
 " Yes, Afra ; and, but for this terrible war, I should never have 
 seen South Carolina. Always, from childhood, I longed to go 
 
WHITE MAY AND BLACK JUNE. 7o9 
 
 South, but it would have been as unsafe for your father and I to 
 come here, as to have traveled among the hostile savages of the 
 Western plains." 
 
 Both sat down upon the rude, unbalustraded, board steps, and 
 fastened their enraptured gaze upon the scene ; upon the lofty arch 
 of blue, spanning the level expanse, unbroken by undulating hill 
 or mountain range ; upon silvery clouds, trooping in light and scat- 
 tered masses, seaward ; upon stretches of neglected fields without 
 fence or boundary, and waving with a harvest of sere grasses ; upon 
 streets of white tents yielding their canvas to the gentle influence 
 of the rising breeze ; upon a regiment of cavalry horses beyond, 
 picketed in the open air; upon squads of the ''boys in blue," 
 marching away to military duty ; upon galloping officers, plungmg 
 through the sandy roads, gay, in bright uniforms and rattling ac- 
 coutrements ; beyond all, upon forests of feathery pines, leanmg 
 against the soft horizon, swimming in distant haze. 
 
 They listened to the clear notes of the bugle ; the beating of 
 drums, muffled by distance ; to fiery and impatient neighings ; 
 to the mutterings of cannon on the Main ; to the carol of a bird 
 in the green oak above, and to the short, comical, derisive laugh of 
 spying crows skimming over camp and field. 
 
 " We should have no fear to stay here alone till father returns 
 from Charleston," said Afra; "we are strongly guarded." 
 
 "I have no fear among Northern soldiers, my child ; bless their 
 brave, sun-browned faces ! I have been thinking what a grand 
 thing it is to come South, protected by the United States army. 
 Afra^ the scenes I have witnessed on these islands — the scene 
 before us now is worth all the scorn and contempt we have suf- 
 fered in a lifetime, in behalf of freedom, and the rights of the col- 
 ored race. In youth, I had an earnest desire to pass my life 
 among the Asiatic heathen ; to become a missionary, was my most 
 ardent wish. That privilege has been granted in my own country, 
 and none demands such service more." 
 
 " I have become attached to the children and colored people 
 about us, mother. It would be a trial for me to leave our school." 
 
 " This people are equally attached to you, Afra, although otlier 
 teachers will supply our place. I feel a deep regret in leaving the 
 islands for Charleston. The patience and utter forgetfulness of 
 
7IO WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 past wrongs which these poor, stripped, hungry, naked freedmen 
 exhibit, is a marvel." 
 
 "What a hue and cry the Southerners made about insurrections," 
 said Afra, "and about Northern Abolitionists inciting insurrections. 
 It was all nonsense ! In the first place, the slaves were a most 
 submissive, docile, and long-suffering people, and in the next, how 
 were Northen letters, papers and pamphlets to stir them to re- 
 resistance, when they could not read, even the first letter of a 
 word?" 
 
 " Afra, * The wicked flee when no man pursueth.' The slave- 
 holder knew that in every human breast, there is an instinctive 
 yearning for Freedom. He knew too, that every act of his was 
 towards the repression of this instinct. The phantasm of insur- 
 rection sprung from his own guilty conscience." 
 
 '•'Ah, well," laughed Afra, "the South has met insurrection in 
 an unanticipated quarter — in the uprising of the whole North!." 
 
 She clapped her hands in exultation, and added,— 
 
 "Avery different insurrection from that of the poor negroes! 
 but one no less destructive — an armed insurrection. Look 
 mother, over the brown fields, there ! see that host of bayonets 
 glittering in the sun ! " 
 
 She clapped her hands again. 
 
 " An armed insurrection to put down an insurrection of the 
 slaves-masters, Afra. In the midst of it all, the slaves are freed 
 by the arbitrament of War. Afra, the history of the past and 
 present of our Government is ridiculously amusing as well as ab- 
 surdly unreasonable. About twenty-five years ago, more or less, 
 Charles G. Atherton, of New Hampshire, a follower of the South, 
 offered a resolution in Congress on the abolition of slavery in the 
 District of Columbia, in these w^ords, — 'That Congress has no 
 right to do that indirectly, which it cannot do directly: This 
 passed the House by one hundred and seventy yeas to thirty nays. 
 In a following resolution he enlarged upon the other, — 'That Con- 
 gress in the exercise of its acknowledged powers, has no right to 
 discriminate between the institutions of one portion of the States, 
 and another, with a view of abolishing the one and promoting the 
 other: That passed gloriously, also. Now observe, that very 
 thing — the abolition of slavery in one portion of the States and 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 7II 
 
 the promotion of it in another has been done on an infinitely- 
 grander scale than it would have been in the insignificant territory 
 of the District of Columbia. This has been accomplished — the 
 Constitution and Congress to the contrary, notwithstanding. 
 Accomplished by the fiat of one man, who says, — /, Abraha7n 
 Lincoln^ do order a?id declare, that all persons held as slaves within 
 said designated States aiid parts of States are, and henceforward shall 
 be free! ^ He promotes slavery in thirteen parishes in Louisiana, 
 in forty-eight counties, forming West Virginia, and also in seven 
 other counties in Virginia." 
 
 ''That emancipation was a war measure," replied Afra," "and we 
 are advocates of peace." 
 
 " We are, Afra, but it seemed necessary to inaugurate an arbi- 
 trary power vested in a Commander-in-chief of the Army and Navy 
 of the United States — distinct — and more absolute than the 
 fossilized Constitution and Congress, both of which remained 
 to the last insurmountable obstacles to the advance of Liberty." 
 
 " True, mother, some power was wanting to proclaim Emancipa- 
 tion. Is it not strange that the Southerners themselves should have 
 been the creators of that power, by rushing into civil war ? " 
 
 " Strange indeed ! but the South actually was the creator of that 
 kingly arbitrary power. Volcanic eruptions often throw up moun- 
 tains, that tower against the sky from surrounding levels. So by 
 our national upheaval, the lofty peaks of Disunion offered a sub- 
 lime pedestal for the feet of our President. Maiestically he as- 
 cended the rough escarpment, till standing on their sulphurous 
 summits, above the States, above the Constitution, above Statutes, 
 above Congress, he seemed to have listened at the Eternal 
 Throne, and to have taken counsel from the Most High ; for he 
 answered to the mutterings, fears, and reproaches that surged be- 
 neath his dizzy height, — " Whatever shall appear to be God"s 
 WILL, I WILL DO !' and from that Sinai, Abraham Lincoln pro- 
 claimed Liberty, the law of the land. Convoyed by a nation's love 
 and reverence, his name will descend to the remotest future. Yes, 
 Afra, it is all stranger than words can express. How little the 
 Southerners thought it, when through their newspaper organs they 
 declared ' The fate of the Southern Confederacy hafigs by the ensign 
 halliards of Fort Sumter T Your father and others think the rebel- 
 
712 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Hon is nearly subdued. The flight of General Hardee from Savan- 
 nah and Charleston seems to indicate fear and weakness." 
 
 " What a superb march was Sherman's from Atlanta to the sea, 
 mother! Those Northern and Western soldiers helped themselves 
 to Southern hospitality. They lived on the fat of the land. 
 Think of the beeves, fowls, swine, rice and potatoes they consufned ! 
 I hope Thad Buddington lives, and we shall be able to hear the 
 story of the triumphant march from his own lips," 
 
 " I hope so, my daughter. The city of Savannah was a hand- 
 some ' Christmas present ' for the President. You know Sherman 
 said in his dispatch to Abraham Lincoln, ' I beg to present to you 
 as a Christmas gift the city of Savannah, with one hundred and 
 fifty heavy guns, and plenty of ammunition, and also about twenty- 
 five thousand bales of cotton.' It was extremely humiliating to the 
 Georgians, no doubt ; but Afra, darling, the morning is passing — 
 those two rooms need revision. Here comes Bacchus. Bacchus 
 we are going out riding this afternoon, to make some farewell calls. 
 You may bring ' Cotton Ball,' and ' Chinquapin ' to the door, about 
 three o'clock." 
 
 " I will, missis. I make * Cotton Ball ' shine for Miss Afra ! " 
 
 The furniture within was scant, but more than sufficient to fill 
 the rooms. A small unpainted pine table, without leaves, was set 
 with a few pieces of crockery, brought from Alderbank, in trunks, 
 bright tin fruit- cans supplying deficiencies. Silver, iron and wooden 
 spoons commingled. One black stuffed chair, one painted North- 
 ern one, and another made from pine boards, with a much-worn 
 rebel settee, found places on a bare floor, with a narrow, unpainted 
 pine bedstead made on the island. Trunks were piled upon each 
 other, and saddles hung upon the rough braces of the walls. One 
 available nook was occupied by a miniature cooking stove, furnish- 
 ing many a Yankee dish from the hands of Fanny and Afra. The 
 new tin wash-boiler answered for cupboard and refrigerator. 
 
 " Afra, I have spent many happy hours here with you and your 
 father. These apparent inconveniences have lightened our labors ; 
 and amidst the revelations of this War of Progress, all else has 
 seemed insignificant." 
 
 Bacchus, prompt to the hour, assisted the ladies in mounting ; 
 and away they swept past the camps, where many a young soldier's 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 713 
 
 eye admiringly followed Afra, and her pony, over the brown wil- 
 derness of fields, through forest glades, to "Nightingale Hall." 
 As they passed through the massive arched gateway, walked the 
 ponies slowly through the shrubbery, and paused under the green 
 magnolias, several fresh young Northern faces saluted their arrival 
 from the top of the long staircase leading to the piazza, where Col- 
 onel Ashland, years ago, welcomed and entertained the Rangers, 
 after hunting excursions. 
 
 "Ah ! " laughed Afra, " you teachers live up among the tops of 
 the trees ! I have never seen a house so high ! " And she reined 
 " Cotton Ball " gayly between the brick pillars and under the house. 
 
 " We have come to bid you goodbye ! " said Fanny. " We are 
 going to Charleston." 
 
 " Dismount then, and tarry till evening. We can get you a good 
 supper from our rations," said a cheery voice, descending the 
 long flight of stairs. We can give you bacon ; and old Elsie cooks 
 hominy splendidly — with sweet potatoes, fresh eggs, and a nice 
 pound-cake, baked in one of the Southern conveniences, a bake- 
 kettle ! " 
 
 " And dried apple sweet-meats, besides," said another rosy girl, 
 laughingly. " Colonel Ashland is not at home, nor Cleopatra ; but 
 we will do the honors of Southern hospitality for them. Colonel 
 Ashland, the owner of this fine mansion, is oS hunting Yankees, I 
 suppose ; for hunting was his pastime." 
 
 " Dan," said a third to a young Freedman, approaching, " take 
 these ladies' horses." 
 
 " Perhaps," said Afra, " Colonel Ashland is hunting angels with 
 blood-hounds in Paradise by this time. If, as some assert, we are 
 in Heaven what we were on earth, he must hunt something ! " 
 
 " Oh, Afra Sterlingworth ! " cried one of the young ladies, " you 
 shock me ! " 
 
 Alfra's eyes sparkled with enjoyment, as she replied, — 
 
 "It is very healthy to be shocked occasionally; so my good 
 mother says, here. I suppose all the Southern electrical batteries 
 are in use at the bottom of rivers, and harbors, in connection with 
 those most Christian instruments, — torpedoes! I have thought 
 for the general welfare, to convert myself into an electrical ma- 
 chine." 
 
714 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " Afra is as radical as I could wish her to be," replied Fanny, 
 with a smile of pride. *'Dear me, what a delightful wood fire on 
 the hearth ! and these rooms are so spacious and airy ! How are 
 you all getting on ? " 
 
 " Delightfully ! We've a mule and cart, and hay in bale, fur- 
 nished by the officers, and a fine riding pony." 
 
 ''Better still," said another; "we have a pocket edition of a 
 milch cow, that the soldiers brought from the Main for us; and 
 this old hair-cloth sofa is a great comfort; do you notice that wide 
 notch in the solid mahogany on the back? That must have been 
 taken out.by a Yankee soldier's axe." 
 
 " Very well ; I hear of our soldiers cooking their breakfasts with 
 finelv-carved piano-legs, split up for their fires. You know this 
 furniture, purchased with stolen wages from the slaves, is in danger 
 of rough usage." 
 
 " You have a cook, too, I think you said," observed Afra. 
 
 "Yes, old Elsie needs food and clothing; we pay her from our 
 rations. Since you were here last, Elsie has told us of the conduct 
 of Colonel Ashland towards a governess he once employed here. 
 Her name was Honora Hudson. She died, and he did not even 
 condescend to attend her funeral, but went off hunting. Elsie laid 
 Mrs. Hudson in her coffin with flowers, and the servants followed 
 her to her lonely grave." 
 
 " Honora Hudson ! " said Fanny. " She was the intimate friend 
 of my mother, in girlhood. I have heard her often speak of Ho- 
 nora Hudson." 
 
 "You will find her grave, Mrs. Sterlingworth, where that church 
 was. Jt is in among the sweet gums. He took her danghter, 
 Hattie, to Charleston ; and no one knows here what became of 
 her. Colonel Ashland's house is occupied by Yankee teachers, 
 now — a fine retribution for the scornful Southerner ! " 
 
 " He had a black wife, named Cleopatra," observed another. 
 " Dan, who took your horses, is Colonel Ashland's son. What 
 curious family histories we're learning ! " 
 
 Thus they chatted on, till the time for departure. Returning 
 home, they stopped at the ruins of the small church, and riding 
 into the thicket of sweet gums, Fanny found the grave of Honora 
 Hudson, and reverently read her name upon the low, half-hidden 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 715 
 
 headstone, leaving upon the neglected mound the sweet flowers of 
 her mother's love and her own sympathy. Nothing was left of the 
 church but a few handfuls of mortar and some fragments of brick, 
 over which "Cotton Ball " and "Chinquapin" stumbled. 
 
 " Afra, this church, which was a mockery to the living God, was 
 standing entire, when your father first came to the islands. Board 
 by board, seat by seat, beam by beam, rafter by rafter, and brick 
 by brick, it has all been carried away. The soldiers and poor 
 blacks have put it to the legitimate use of comforting the body. It 
 never gave strength to righteous convictions — never fed the soul 
 with the bread of life. It never led one spirit to an humble aspira- 
 tion after Truth. It was based on falsehood, maintained by false- 
 hood, and fostered falsehood in return." 
 
 " I think so, mother. In its downfall and disseverment, it has 
 truly aided the advance of ^he age." 
 
 She slipped from her saddle, and picked up from the debris 
 among the grass, some mementos of "Eternal Justice/' 
 
 Other days found Fanny and Afra riding over familiar and be- 
 loved spots. At one time they galloped miles along the white 
 beach, bathing the ponies' feet in the pearly fringes of incoming 
 waves, and retouching the rare Southern pictures to be borne 
 away in memory with stronger lights. Again, they were winding 
 among the spicy pines, weaving their way in and out of the woof of 
 golden shafts that shot through their plumy tops. Again, they were 
 halting before the cabins and improvised habitations of their pupils, 
 receiving the warm and grateful "How de's," and taking affection- 
 ate leave. 
 
 In due time, the steamer on which they took passage to Charles- 
 ton, crossed the bar and made her way up the smooth bay, towards 
 the city. The Northerners who crowded her decks were busy in 
 scanning the forts and batteries which had so fiercely opened the 
 fratricidal war. They passed Sumter, a dismantled, misshapen 
 mass, pounded to pumice by cannon and mortar. None saluted 
 the battered wreck with reverence or affection, but the old ruin 
 was shrouded only with lowering looks and exultant indigna- 
 tion. 
 
 Far up the bay on a level with the blue waters swimming in 
 the violet haze of declining day, lay the " City by the Sea," in 
 
7l6 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 the humiliation and asphyxia of her own suicidal destruction. 
 
 " Oh, motlfer ! " cried Afra with enthusiasm, " how beautiful 
 Charleston appears ! like the warm Oriental cities I love so much 
 in paintings." 
 
 " Beautiful as an apple of Sodom ! fair on the exterior, but 
 heartless, Afra, uttrely heartless. Count her numerous spires 
 glittering in the sun— enough to have led double her population 
 into paths of rectitude. Alas! false beacons, every one. The 
 full-blown bladders of Southern arrogance have been pricked in 
 this city or the Sierlingworth family would not be allowed to 
 land. They would repulse this steamer from her docks." 
 
 " Or," added Afra, *' if we succeeded in landing and entering 
 her hotels, they would bring a carriage to the door and hustle us 
 away again, and we should be compelled to go, to save ourselves 
 from their prisons or scaffolds." « 
 
 The steamer came alongside the wharf. The black, rotten tim- 
 bers of its floor showed the dark gurgling water beneath, except 
 where the more dangerous spaces were overlapped by loose, ill- 
 shapen planks. Waiting by the gangway, were a fine coach and 
 span. A lively voice said laughingly, — 
 
 "Welcome to Charleston! Step in here. I am delegated 
 by this distinguished city, to offer you its generous hospitali- 
 ties ! " 
 
 Amid surprise and gladenss, Fanny and Afra seated themselves 
 in the coach and were driven over and around caving sand 
 batteries, jotled over rough, ragged, and desolate streets, past 
 gaping walls, and rent pavements ploughed by Yankee shells. 
 
 " Here we are," said Mr. John, as they stopped before an ele- 
 gant, piazzaed mansion, standing in the midst of evergreen shrub- 
 bery, purple blossomed wisterias, and rose-laden climbers. " The 
 people of this establishment have had the great kindness to vacate 
 the premises for our accommodation." 
 
 Within, the Sterlingworth's met as warm a welcome as at the 
 wharf. Mrs. John said to Fanny, — 
 
 " Enjoy all the house affords ; you deserve a rest, and a change 
 from those two small stifling rooms on the island. We have ser- 
 vants at your command, and the carriage at your pleasure." 
 
 Carpeted, airy rooms, costly furniture, fine china and glass, 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. *J1^ 
 
 adorned the house. A few days afterwards, Mr. John said to 
 Fanny, — 
 
 " I have any number of fine dwellings at my disposal, so many 
 that I hardly know which to select for myself. Take the carriage ; 
 the coachman knows the streets, and will drive you where I direct. 
 Choose from these houses to suit yourself. I am delighted to see 
 a staunch abolitionist like you, driven at your pleasure in a rebel 
 carriage about the streets of this * Nest of Treason,' without fear 
 or molestation." 
 
 In a few weeks, the Sterlingworth's were nicely settled in a 
 handsome home, filUed with every necessary luxury of furniture, 
 and other equipment. 
 
 Three servants left Fanny and Afra free to wander about the 
 city, and to become eye witnesses of the devastations which met 
 them on every hand. 
 
 " Mother," said Afra, one day, " lift your eyes to that spire — a 
 shot or shell passed entirely through it. Mind now ! here are ugly 
 breaks in the wharf." 
 
 Everywhere within Yankee range, the walks and grounds about 
 buildings, and churches in particular, were strewn with fragments 
 of window-panes to be " measured by the bushel," as Afra said. 
 
 They entered the slave-marts and looked from the first floor, 
 riddled and splintered beneath their feet, through the stories above 
 to the blue sky where shells like falling meteors had explored the 
 guilty iron-barred rooms. 
 
 Driven in the " rebel carriage," they jolted over scattered paving- 
 stones of East Bay, an avenue of ruin and utter desolation. The 
 commercial marts of human merchandise stared at the curious 
 passer like grim and unfleshed skeletons. Ragged and window- 
 less, the steps and alleys rankly overgrown with commonest weeds, 
 they proclaimed to the glad hearts of Fanny and Afra that the day 
 of retribution had at last come. Weeds, and small shrubs spring- 
 ing up from the stone window sills, found nourishment in the accu- 
 mulated dust and rubbish of years. 
 
 ''I think we have found the American Palmyra," said Afra 
 pointing her mother's attention to a small thrifty " Tree of Para- 
 dise " upon one sill ; its green pinnate leaves waving pleasantly in 
 
7l8 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 the breeze, and seeming to say, " no more hideous bargains of 
 human beings here." 
 
 They ascended the steps of the battered, marble Custom House, 
 and walked over the remnants of white, flated columns ground to 
 powder. They paused upon the splendid eastern portico and 
 gazed down the beautiful bay, pondering upon the tears, sighs, sobs 
 and heart-breaking agony that had gone down its glittering path, in 
 the course of the inter-state slave-trade on the terrible voyages to 
 New Orleans. 
 
 '•' There went Paul Snow's love," said Fanny ; " and there went 
 Zaffiri's dear old mauma. Afra," she exclaimed, " when a nation 
 rejects conscience and the claims of natural rights, righteousness 
 wusthQ bellowed forth from the cannon's mouth. Thank God ! I 
 have lived to behold this day. Here, mine eyes have seen Thy 
 salvation. Its is overwhelming. The scenes in this city produce 
 upon the beholder a sort of sacred vertigo." 
 
 Each held a bunch of grass in hand, which they had left the car- 
 riage to gather from the pavements of the streets. In doing this, 
 they foraged among the cows, picturesquely herded in the thorough- 
 fares, and grazing as complacently as in rural campaigns. 
 
 " What was Jeff Davis' prophecy about the grass in our Northern 
 cities ? " asked Afra. 
 
 '• At Stephenson, Alabama, he said in a speech, ' England will 
 recognize us, and a glorious future is before us. The grass will 
 grow in Northern cities where the pavements have been worn off 
 by the tread of commerce.' He said, also, * They cannot rear the 
 cities which took years of industry and millions of money to build,' 
 meaning after the Southern army should have destroyed them. 
 
 "When he left Jackson for Montgomer)'-, he said in another 
 speech, * If war must come it must be upon Northern and not upon 
 Southern soil,* 
 
 *' Alexander Stevens, the Confederate vice-president, said in a 
 speech delivered after the formation of the rebel government, ' Its 
 foundations are laid ; its corner-stone rests upon the great truth, 
 that the negro is not equal to the white man, that slavery, subordi- 
 nation to the superior race is his natural and normal condition.' 
 This, our new government, is the first in the history of the world, 
 based upon this great physical, philosophical, and moral truth. 
 
WHITE MAY AND BLACK JUNE. 719 
 
 He also said, 'The new constitution (Confederate,) has put at rest 
 foj-ever^ all the agitating questions relating to our peculiar institu- 
 tion.' " 
 
 " Where are their prophecies now ? " asked Afra, separating the 
 grass in her hand and holding it more carefully. 
 
 " In the tomb of Secession," replied Fanny. " I shall press this 
 grass to send to our Northern friends. I shall label it ' JeffDavis* 
 prophecy fallen upon Charleston,^ " 
 
 CHAPTFR XXXV. 
 
 1SSY PAISLEY remained in Europe two years after Madame 
 Lambelle's return to Canada. His medical studies were 
 completed at a German university, with increased remittances from 
 his father who had learned the course his son was taking. 
 
 Four years before the war he returned to his American friends 
 in Cloudspire, finding his old home again in the family of Squire 
 Buddington. Doctor Clarendon's eyes were wet with joy, and the 
 red bandana performed ample service when he first took Issy's 
 hands, declaring, — 
 
 " Doctor Paisley is as fine and polished as any medical professor 
 I have ever met." 
 
 After repeated conversations with the young physician upon his 
 course of European study and his attainments, he said, — 
 
 " Doctor Paisley, you are fitted for any professional position in 
 America. You have digested more books and theories than I have 
 ever seen. I am old and worn out. It would be the happiest act 
 of my life to transfer my practice to you. Would you have courage 
 to make the attempt? " 
 
 "I think not, my good friend. Cloudspire's prejudice against 
 my color would outweigh all the science of Europe ; as to that 
 matter, most places are alike, and prescriptions for the few friendly 
 families here would not avail for my support." 
 
 " I have been thinking deeply on the matter," said the old doc- 
 tor. " I think. Doctor Paisley, if you consent to my plan we can 
 outwit this rare delicacy of taste in the Saxon tongue. If the thou- 
 
720 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 sand and one patients will not allow you to take their pulse, be- 
 cause your fingers are brown, dose them without that formality. 
 You and I know that a few simple causes produce a multiplicity of 
 diseases. Set about remedying those causes by a few preparations 
 and combinations known only to yourself. For instance, get up a 
 preparation corrective to the stomach or liver, and that cures 
 headaches, dyspepsia, biliousness et cetera. Get up another for 
 lung difficulties, that will cure coughs, colds, croups, wheezing, 
 whooping coughs and that terrible spectre, consumption. Give 
 these preparations a high-sounding, mystified name, box and bottle 
 them neatly, and I'm vigorous enough yet to go to Washington and 
 
 get them patented in the name of Doctor Paisley, graduate of 
 
 that jaw-breaking German university of yours." 
 
 Issy laughed incredulously. 
 
 *\VVhy bless you," cried Doctor Clarendon " the world is a fool 
 and nobody knows it as well as a doctor. I've given bread-pills 
 many a time to nervous, scarey women who would be sick whether 
 or no ; and, Doctor Paisley, bread-pills are a most efficient 
 remedy." 
 
 Then he laughed with his old funny importance, run his fingers 
 through his gray hair, and asked with a slap on his young friend's 
 shoulder, — 
 
 " Doctor Paisley, will you make the trial ? Dose the world — 
 contrary to the curse of Canaan, the Christian church and the 
 Constitution." 
 
 '• Well, doctor, I will take this week to turn again the pages of 
 my books, and if for nothing more, to convince you of my gratitude 
 and love, I will bring to you a written list of different compounds 
 for inspection." 
 
 "Good, Doctor Paisley. I must do something for your pros- 
 perity before my demise. The manufacture of patent medicines is 
 a gold-bearing business. There are no midnight rides, nothing 
 abhorrent to the sensibilities in that kind of practice. Suppose, 
 now, you bring your books down to my office, here, and do the 
 work ; I shall have some spare time to devote to you. Don't take 
 offense because I mentioned bread-pills. I know that everything 
 you do will be scientific and worthy of my efforts in your behalf. 
 Issy, you are welcome to my family. We are too much alone. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 721 
 
 Lucy and Richard are away most of the time. Mrs. Clarendon 
 will be rejuvenated by the history of your foreign experience and 
 the cheerfulness of your company." 
 
 Issy yielded to the solicitations of both, and was soon domiciled 
 with the doctor. 
 
 During the first evening in the office, his patron said, — 
 " You see. Doctor Paisley, at my house you are nearer to a cer- 
 tain young lady residing with Mrs. Beame. I can give you a ride 
 to Alderbank occasionally, and at other times it will be an invig- 
 orating walk for you. How does Miss Addie Hughes meet your 
 wishes ? We call her a paragon of excellence, besides being good 
 looking." 
 
 " I would not desire to make any change in Addie. During my 
 four years absence she has grown intelligent and ladylike beyond 
 my anticipations " 
 
 " Do you love that girl, Doctor Paisley?" 
 
 A velvet carmine flushed Issy's face, and his long, silken lashes 
 hid the brightness of his eyes when he replied, — 
 " Addie is very dear to me, sir." 
 
 " Could you wish her joy if she was about to marry a stranger ? " 
 " That will never be, sir," was the quick reply. 
 " Good," cried the doctor ; " now you're all right ; " and he fairly 
 set the vials on the shelves rattling by his happy, uproarrious 
 laughter. 
 
 Dr. Clarendon's plans and prophicies for Issy's success were all 
 perfected and bore golden fruitage. He bore back from Washing- 
 ton the necessary patents, and went from city to city to initiate the 
 sale of medicines. 
 
 Three years after, Mrs. Beame's declining health rendered it 
 probable that Addie would be left without a protector. Issy, by 
 the advice of his friends, purchased a pleasant home in West Elms, 
 with the funds he had saved from his father's annuity, and the ever- 
 increasing proceeds of his medicine sales. Mrs. Beame, still de- 
 clining, desired to see Addie well settled. She was permitted to 
 witness her marriage within the home of her adoption, in the pres- 
 ence of all Issy's dear and fostering Cloudspire friends. After 
 Fanny's bereavement, D^. Paisley made his young bride the happy 
 mistress of his newly purchased hearth and home. 
 
722 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 During t)ie war, he enlisted, a surgeon in a regiment of colored 
 troops, and with them diified away to Florida. While there, he was 
 unexpectedly cheered by a call from Mr. Sterlingworth, with his 
 wife and daughter. They found him occupying a charming South- 
 ern house surrounded with the tasteful comforts left by rebel fugi- 
 tives from the approach of the federal forces .'* 
 
 " Strange ! strange ! " he said, after a cordial greeting, " that we 
 should meet at this extreme of our land!" 
 
 " Ah ! " remarked Mr. Sterlingworth, " the government has use 
 for you and me now. We were brought to Florida on a govern- 
 ment steamer. Uncle Sam is pleased, at present, to give pleasure 
 trips to Abolitionists ! " 
 
 '•It is true, he showed us favors,'*' said Fanny. "Our pleasure 
 trips at government expense cannot equal the cost of a half dozen 
 of the thousands of fugitive slave-cases, taken from the public 
 treasury. I think the government should give Mr. Garrison and 
 the rest of us a trip round the world ! " 
 
 " I should like to see you. Dr. Paisley, in your uniform of army 
 blue, and official badges, but you are quite comfortable in dressing- 
 o-own and slippers. How do you hnd Caste, in the army ? " 
 
 " I find it, sir, especially at officer's table. If I had not learned 
 in Europe the utter insignificance of this American display, it 
 would be annoying ; but it troubles me no more than a musquito's 
 hum. I intend to appropriate my rights, without infringing upon 
 the rights of others:' 
 
 " That is a duty, doctor, to which I am happy to find you ad- 
 hering," 
 
 " Where shall we meet again, sir ? " asked Issy, at the close of 
 
 the interview. 
 
 " At Charleston, I trust. I believe that city is doomed to fall 
 into the hands of Justice." 
 
 Thus they parted, each maintaining unswerving faith in the ul- 
 timate triumph of Right. 
 
 About the time cf the occupation of Charleston by the national 
 army, Issy was mustered out of service, and impelled by that in- 
 stinctive love of the place of one's birth, so common to all, he 
 made his way there. There his wife, Addie, met him, and he ob- 
 tained a position under the government. A fine house was assigned 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 723 
 
 them, and a choice of furniture from the abundance unclaimed. 
 
 He sought the house of Doctor Paisley, his father. It was oc- 
 cupied with Yankee officers and strange servants in attendance. 
 Federal uniforms passed out and in ; the halls and parlors re- 
 sounded with clanking swords and triumphant cheer. 
 
 One fine morning, Issy sauntered into the commissary rooms to 
 witness the destitution of which he heard daily accounts. Among 
 the crowd of men and women receiving rations from the enemy, as 
 the Northern army was styled, Issy observed a face which he 
 thought he recognized, though changed by time in beauty and ex- 
 pression. The dress of the lady was plain nloummg, m a style 
 long past. She gave her basket of rations to a ragged httle col- 
 ored urchin, and bade him follow her. 
 
 Issy, curious to convince himself, stepped carelessly after her, 
 preserving an unsuspicious distance, in the rear. At the corner, a 
 gentleman met the lady, and accosted the boy. 
 
 " Do you go to school ? " he inquired. 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Do you live with her ? " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 Issy drew near. 
 
 " Put down that basket tnen, and come with me," the gentleman 
 continued. ." Education is free, in Charleston, now ! " 
 
 The lady was enraged. 
 
 " What ! " she cried, " do these lovvr Yankees take our servants 
 from us ? Do you mean, wretch, that I shall carry that basket of 
 provisions through the streets ? I, a daughter of Doctor Paisley ? " 
 
 The gentleman had the boy by the hand. The basket was 
 dropped on the walk. 
 
 The unknown walked away with the child, but Issy caught a 
 comical smile lurking about his mouth and eyes. He advanced, 
 and bowing, said, — 
 
 " Mistress Valmonte, I am Issy, your former slave." 
 
 Astonished and angry, she asked, — 
 
 " To whom do you belong now ? No ! I suppose you claim free- 
 dom, smce General Hardee abandoned us ! " 
 
 " How is Doctor Paisley, Ernestin and Corinne, madam ? " 
 
 " My father is dead. This war killed him. Ernestin has given 
 
724 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 his life on the battlefield, for our Southern cause. Corinne is with 
 me, in poverty. Oh ! all is gone ! " She stood wringing her hands. 
 " My beautiful home is filled and defiled with defiant Yankee offi- 
 cers, while Corinne and I have no where to lay our heads. We 
 are shelrered temporarily by a friend as destitute as I am. My 
 plantation house is burned and my negroes refuse to obey the over- 
 seer ! Issy, take up that basket and fo!Tow me." 
 
 Theresa Valmonte turned and strode on. Issy smilingly took the 
 basket, not in the spirit of obedience, however. He had intended 
 to offer his aid. This new phase of freedom pleased him. Madam 
 Valmonte ascended the steps of her friend's house, saying, 
 curtly, — 
 
 " Bring up the basket and ring the bell." 
 
 He did this also, and then said, — 
 
 " Mistress Valmonte, I am living in the city j if you will call at 
 my residence, I may be able to assist you." 
 
 She listened to the street and number, saying, — 
 
 " You hire the kitchens, I suppose. You ought to help me. All 
 my slaves ought to help me. I tell them so. You can go now." 
 
 He turned and went on his way. 
 
 The next day, in the twilight, she came with Corinne, to the 
 side gate and asked for Issy. Being shown into the parlors, she 
 said, — 
 
 " It must be a mistake ; he must occupy the kitchens." 
 
 " Oh, no, madam," replied Addie, offering seats. " Issy will be 
 in immediately." 
 
 Addie sat down herself. 
 
 Madam addressed her tartly. "If you are a servant in the fam- 
 ily, why do you sit in my presence ? I am not accustomed to have 
 negroes sit with me." 
 
 Issy entered, heard her words, saluted and sat, also. Haughty, 
 starched, and silent, he eyed both. 
 
 Issy opened conversation. " Mistress Valmonte, allow me to 
 explain my situation here j there will be a better understanding be- 
 tween us." 
 
 " Go on." 
 
 " I have been a free man for years before the war. In the North, 
 I have been educated, and through the kindness of friends, have 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. ^2$ 
 
 Spent five years in Europe, in the study of medicine. I am a 
 physician, although at present I have a position under the Federal 
 Government. I occupy this /loiise, not the kitchens. I am mar- 
 ried; this is my wife, Mrs. Addie Paisley." 
 
 " You have studied medicine. Voi^ have studied m Europe. A 
 fabrication, I dare presume. Negro testimony is worthless. If 
 you have this house, give me one of the chambers — not one on 
 the street. • I do not care to be shocked by the passing of negro 
 and Yankee troops ! " 
 
 "There are two large, square chambers, Madame Valmonte. 
 You can choose either. Have you furniture for your use ? " said 
 Issy, nobly passing over her continued insults. 
 
 " Not a piece of furniture. I have been robbed of all by this 
 war, thrust upon us by the thirst for blood which posesses those 
 low-bred, coarse myridons of the North. No, I have not a piece ; 
 you must supply it. Have the room ready by to-morrow night. I 
 shall come then." 
 
 She arose without deigning to bestow a look upon Addie, and 
 went straight to the hall door. Persistently kind, Issy held the 
 door open for his arrogant sister to pass out. Addie followed them 
 into the hall, respectfully, saw the white hand of Corinne seeking 
 hers, and felt the warm, silent pressure. 
 
 Madame said sternly, without turning her head,— 
 
 "Ishmael, send a conveyance for our trunks, at eight o'clock." 
 
 When the door was closed, Addie re-entered the parlor with both 
 hands raised in angry surprise, and broke into contemptuous 
 
 laughter. 
 
 "Hush, darling Addie," cried Issy, in an undertone. 'I know 
 it's enough to provoke a saint, but the pleasure of seeing that proud 
 woman humbled in my house, more than compensates for the tow- 
 ering insults she rains upon us both. I feared you would break out 
 in s°ome truthful repartee, in reply to her scorching language. I 
 remembered you had been educated by Fanny Beame, but you was 
 a good girl and kept silent." 
 
 Addie perched herself on Iss>'s knee, slid her arm about his 
 
 neck, and said, — j • t 
 
 " I followed you, dear Issy. You are always so calm and wise, 1 
 
 knew you must be right. If Mistress Valmonte is your sister she's 
 
726 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 7ny sister (00 ; but, I declare, I would not do one thing for her, only 
 in consideration of that charming Miss Corinne who looked so 
 troubled at her mother's brusquerie. Do you know, Issy, in going 
 through the street door she reached her hand back and pressed 
 mine ; Mrs. Beame, dead and gone, my second mother, would have 
 turned Theresa out of doors, in a twinkling." 
 
 " Corinne," replied Issy, " was always a lovely child before I 
 was sold. In the Paisley-house, she would run to me and nestle 
 down in my arms, lay her soft rosy cheek against mine, and say, 
 'Corinne love Issy.' She would divide her goodies with me; 
 many a time I have led her about these streets chattering as sweetly 
 as the birds above us. But, dear Addie, her mother is all wTong ! 
 Slavery was all wrong ! It has hardened her heart to stone. She 
 is coming here, neverthelesss, and let us both try to practice the 
 Golden Rule which, so far, has guided our lives. Theresa will be 
 a most trying occupant of our house, but when you find your pa- 
 tience waning run to me as you have now, and I will brood away the 
 wrongs." 
 
 During the next day Issy obtained the proper military order for 
 furniture, and at night the chambers were handsomely furnished. 
 At eight o'clock a mule and cart brought the two trunks. Mistress 
 Valmonte began housekeeping without a servant. CcJrinne had 
 learned to make tea and coffeft ; braving the fretful repinings of 
 her mother, she tried her hand in the kitchen at cooking bacon 
 and hominy. Addie's servant became attached to the bright girl 
 directly, and taught and assised her in every possible way. Cor- 
 inne swept and dusted their chamber, while her mother sat rocking 
 and murmuring about her daughter's soiled and blistered hands. 
 Mistress Valmonte went out every day to call on some of her old 
 circle of friends. Her black cotton gloves were faded and worn, 
 but carefully darned by Corinne 's needle. She wore the same 
 black dress from week to week, often sponged and repaired by her 
 dutiful daughter. 
 
 "On one of these occasions Corinne remaining alone, came 
 down to the parlor to sit with Addie. 
 
 " My mother will be absent for the day," she said, pleasantly, 
 " and I wish to see you and Issy, to beg you to overlook mamma's 
 eccentricities. She declares she cannot endure the noisy play of 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 727 
 
 your children and the company you have, and she is resolved to 
 lecture you about it." 
 
 " Come, sit down, dear Corinne," said Addie, laughing. ."Rest 
 yourself and make a pleasant day of it. Your work is hard for 
 you." 
 
 Corinne took the handsome arm-chair offered, and drawing a 
 sigh, replied, — 
 
 •' I confess the work tries me because I am so ignorant how to 
 do it. I am gaining, however; it will be lighter after a little." 
 
 " Now, in reference to your mother's requirements, do not bor- 
 row trouble about it. Whatever she says to us, will receive a re- 
 spectful notice, without the least offence. I know my two children, 
 Henry and Susie, are boisterous ; we consider romping and laugh- 
 ter healthy for them, but we can easily modify our arrange- 
 ments." 
 
 " You are so kind, Addie ; believe me, I appreciate it. I have 
 one more favor to ask ; shall I do so ?" 
 
 '• Certainly, Miss Corinne.' 
 
 "I will venture, then. Mamma frets over the coarse brown 
 sugar we get in our rations, and craves the white loaf sugar she 
 used to have for her tea and coffee. She also craves fresh milk, 
 in lieu of the canned milk we are forced to use. Milk now, is 
 twenty-five cents a quart. Addie, we have no money but the Con- 
 federate bills, and although mamma wi// say she prefers them to 
 greenbacks, they are entirely useless for purchase or exchange. 
 They are no more value than so much wrapping-paper." 
 
 Both Addie and Corinne joined in a merry laugh over the Con 
 federate bills. 
 
 Corinne proceeded, — 
 
 " We left our house in the city for two reasons. It was in range 
 of General Gilmore's guns ; and next, because our plantation had 
 no head to it — it needed a supervisor. While we were there 
 warning was sent to us that Yankee troops would pass our way , 
 mamma and I hastily packed two large trunks and with the aid ol 
 two faithful servants, carried them into the woods and buried them 
 Those are the two trunks up stairs ; one is filled with costly cloth- 
 ing and mamma's diamonds, the other with our wearing apparel 
 and some silver. The rest of our silver fell into the hands of the 
 
728 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 army. Our splendid house was burned to ashes, with all it con- 
 tained ; also our barns, rice mill and overseer's house." 
 
 " Addie, I blush to confess the reason, mamma was beside her- 
 self. She insulted the white officers, reviling them with every 
 Southern epithet at her command. She actually spit in the colored 
 soldiers' faces. I trembled from head to foot and besought her to 
 be calm. She would not listen. The soldiers were exasperated 
 and at the command of the officers applied the torch to all. She 
 took the black whip in her own hands and lashed our slaves, order- 
 ing them to put out the fires. Then the officers ordered all our 
 slaves to follow the regiments and be free. Of course they fled 
 with them and we were left houseless and alone." 
 
 " We are here now with only those two trunks. We are in 
 mourning for Ernestin and Grandpapa Paisley, and shall probably 
 remain so for years. Mamma concluded yesterday to sell the silk 
 and muslin dresses, bright shawls and sacks with jewelry and two 
 of our watches. We have six fine gold watches. When she told 
 me, she threw herself on the bed, and wept and moaned herself 
 into a hysterical attack. To sooth her, I begged her to think no 
 more of it and promised to take charge of the sale myself." 
 
 The tears were streaming down Corinne's cheeks. 
 
 " I know none of our acquaintances will purchase them, for tney 
 are selling their own and there is no money. There are no banks, 
 stocks or savings — no factors or debtors — all have been scattered 
 to^the winds. Have you any Northern acquaintances, Addie, who 
 would be likely to purchase ? Can you help me ? " 
 
 " Do not weep, dear Miss Corinne," said Addie tenderly, stand- 
 ing by her and gently fanning her flushed face. " I will help you. 
 I have Northern acquaintances here, and will ascertain this very 
 evening. Will you trust me with one of the watches you wish to 
 dispose of ? I will take it out with me and bring you word to-mor- 
 row concerning the dresses and other articles. Leave it to me, 
 Miss Corinne, my friends will assist me." 
 
 Addie cast a glance out of the open window. 
 
 " Issy is coming ; stay, do not retire ; he will comfort you, dear 
 Corinne ; he is strong and comforts everybody." 
 
 Issy gave his wife her usual kiss and bowed low to Corinne. 
 
 "1 am happy to meet you below," he said. "Little Corinne 
 
WHITE MAY AND BLACK JUNE. 729 
 
 used to be my pet, and I have not lost my affection for her during 
 these long years. Our dinner is on the table, if you would not con- 
 sider the invitation an offense I would ask you to partake a freshly 
 cooked meal with us." 
 
 " Issy, I will sit at your table with pleasure. Mamma is away 
 for the day, arranging to send our diamonds to London for sale, 
 with those of several other ladies." 
 
 " Never mind. Miss Corinne, diamonds are but stones. Tender 
 hearts are better. You are surrounded by the latter in all these 
 strangers v;ho may appear so callous to you. Come to the dining- 
 room." As of old, he held the door aside for her to pass through. 
 
 Issy kept the conversation general and lively. The dishes were 
 Northern and varied. Corinne enjoyed the lepast and returned to 
 the parlor with her hosts. 
 
 " Issy," asked Corinne, " may I inquire who was so kind as to 
 defray your expenses in obtaining a medical profession ? I think 
 the Northerners are better hearted than I have been taught to be- 
 lieve." 
 
 " Shall I inform you. Miss Corinne ? " 
 
 "Certainly, Issy." 
 
 " My dear young lady, Northerners are kind, but so are some 
 Southerners. I am indebted to a Southern slave-holder for my 
 education." 
 
 ••' Pray, what Southerner ? " 
 
 " To Doctor Paisley, miss. Shall I relate my early history of 
 which you, doubtless, have never been made acquainted ? " 
 
 " I beg you to do so." 
 
 " I fear to shock you. Miss Corinne, but Doctor Paisley was my 
 father. He loved his brown son, freed me, and furnished funds, 
 annually, for my education." 
 
 Corinne' s face grew pallid ; she asked hurriedly, — 
 
 " Does mamma know this ? " 
 
 " She knows I am her brother, and that she mortgaged me for 
 sale because I was her brother. Doctor Paisley was fond of me. 
 I was given to her when a child. Mistress Valmonte owned me. 
 When Doctor Paisley learned of this mortgage he bought me 
 secretly and took me North." 
 
 " Do not speak of it to mamma, I beseech of you, for my sake. 
 
730 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 I could not endure the result; but, Issy, I am rejoiced that grand- 
 papa was capable of that act. Is it possible that you are mamma's 
 brother ? " she smiled through her tears. " Then, Issy, you are 
 Coiinne's uncle." 
 
 " If relationship was ever claimed with slaves, I am so," said 
 Issy, smilingly. I shall never bring up old issues with Theresa 
 Valmonte ; and certainly, if silence is my shield to your sorrow, I 
 promise you that." 
 
 " Thank you, Uncle Issy. I am astonished beyond expression 
 and can speak of this denouement no more at present. Excuse 
 me." 
 
 She withdrew, and returned bringing with her the two watches 
 before spoken of, saying, — 
 
 *' I am desirous of selling these as soon as possible." 
 
 She placed them in Addie's care who went directly to Issy. 
 
 * Are they pot beautiful ? Mistress Valmonte wishes to sell 
 them. Perhaps w^e can assist Miss Corinne as she has taken the 
 task upon herself." 
 
 Issy opened the larger one and saw engraved within " Doctor Z. 
 Paisley.'" The case was large, heavy, and of fine gold, curiously en- 
 graven with the long-ago coat of arms of his ancient ancestry. 
 The chain was heavy and of modern make, to which was attached 
 an elegant seal engraved with the family name, " Paisley." 
 
 Corinne sat silently weeping, Addie fanning her with one 
 hand and smoothing her fair hair with the other. 
 
 '• Has Mistress Valmonte set a price upon these watches?" asked 
 Issy. 
 
 " One hundred dollars apiece," Corinne replied. 
 
 Issy left the room for a few moments, and returned laying one 
 hundred dollars in Corinne 's lap. 
 
 " Oh ! thank you, Issy ! " she exclaimed. It is appropriate that 
 you should have grandpapa's watch. But it seems cruel to take 
 compensation for it. If we were not in absolute want I would not 
 accept it." 
 
 " Do not have a thought for me, dear young lady. I am in cir- 
 cumstances which the North terms 'well off.' I have otic never- 
 failing income — I have my profession — a paying position now; 
 and, besides, I own a pleasant home in Massachusetts. 1 will not 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 731 
 
 wear this chain at present ; your mother's sorrow might be aggra- 
 vated by the sight of it." 
 
 " Thank you for that consideration." 
 
 " Now, Miss Corinne, if you are happier below with Addie, than 
 in the solitude of your chamber, we entreat you to remain. I must 
 return to business." 
 
 In the evening, Issy and his wife called upon Mrs. Sterlingworth, 
 to make, if possible, a sale of the dresses. Their servant followed 
 after, with a large bundle of the articles, which Addie spread out 
 in dazzling and attractive beauty. 
 
 " The price of human beings, and unpaid labor ! " said Fanny, 
 sorrowfully. " The master and mistress clothed in elegance ; the 
 toiler half-clad in coarse, scanty garments." 
 
 " But who thought, Fanny, we despised Abolitionists, we, the 
 bane of Southern minds, should ever see these elegant articles 
 offered for sale, to lift the burden of destitution from the proud 
 slave-holder. Let us buy a silk dress for our Afra, tha t she may 
 be clothed in the garments of righteousness." 
 
 " Say retribution, Reuben," answered Fanny. 
 
 " Synonymous with God's righteousness, Fanny. Afra dear, 
 come select for yourself." 
 
 " I should take the blue silk," said Afra, " and this embroidered 
 white lace shawl." 
 
 " Very well," replied her father ; " take your choice Fanny. The 
 purple and brown plaid satin, perhaps." 
 
 " Do you not think, Mr. Sterlingworth, you could find a buyer 
 for this watch } " asked Addie ; and this shawl cost a thousand 
 dollars at the opening of the war. Mistress Valmonte will sell it for 
 one hundred dollars." 
 
 " I will do my best, Mrs. Paisley," he replied. " Their war has 
 been fruitful of sorrow to them as well as to us." 
 
 " I, too, will endeavor to aid in the sale of these articles," added 
 Afra, "for the sake of distressed Corinne." 
 
 Addie drew Afra out upon the piazza, saying, — 
 
 " I desire to impart a bit of information, respecting the blue 
 silk dress you purchased. It was bought and was made up for 
 Corinne to wear at a large party given to Southern officers, by 
 Mistress Valmonte, in commemoration of the downfall of Sumter's 
 
732 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 National Flag in 1861. She wore it on that occasion, and once 
 afterwards at another celebration of the rout of the Yankees in the 
 first great battle of Bull Run. Her brother Ernestin was killed 
 soon after, and she has never worn it since. The dress is histori- 
 cal, Afra." 
 
 " Then I, an anti-war and an anti-slaverv daughter of the North, 
 will add an interesting supplement to the gay chapter. I will 
 wear it to the raising of the triumphant ' Old Flag ' over Sumter, 
 on the approaching fourteenth of April, 1865." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 IN April, 1865, ^^^- Sterlingworth, coming up the walk to^ din- 
 ner and observing Afra in the garden among the roses, drew 
 her into the parlor by saying, — 
 
 " Come, humming bird, leave the flowers j I've a pocket full of 
 letters." 
 
 Away she flew and playfully thrusting her arm through his, went 
 up the marble steps with her father He bade her speak to Fanny, 
 that they should enjoy the letters together, and the three were soon 
 busy with the generous mail. 
 
 Fanoy soon held up hers, exclaiming with animation, — 
 
 " Guess ! " 
 
 " I guess Madame Lambelle ; the post-mark is New York," said 
 Afra ; " Oh, mother, have I guessed right ? " 
 
 " You have, Afra. Claude and Zaffiri will be here to witness 
 the raising of the dear old flag over Fort Sumter." 
 
 Afra finished reading, and with laughing eyes held the letter 
 back of her chair and said, — 
 
 " Guess ! " 
 
 " The teachers on the island ? " 
 
 " No, try again." 
 
 " Filette and George from Cloudspire ? " 
 
 " Better still ; Uncle Richard and Lucy. They will arrive with 
 Mr. Lambelle and his wife. Dear father, what news have you?" 
 
 "What do you think, ladies? We are to welcome Captain Thad 
 Buddington, from Savannah. His time of enlistment in Sherman's 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. .733 
 
 army expired some time since. He desires to see the old flag 
 reinstated on Sumter, and will stop here on his way North. He 
 informs me he has a surprise in store for us all. ♦ 
 
 " The fourteenth of April will be a day of surprises," said Fanny, 
 " very agreeable surprises." 
 
 "Welcome to the Abolitionists!" said Afra ; "we have ample 
 accommodations, and can entertain them sumptuously." 
 
 " I have other papers of additional interest," remarked Mr. 
 Sterlingworth. Here are the orders of General Gilmore and 
 Admiral Dalghren for to-morrow." 
 
 He gave one to Fanny, and one to Afra, saying, — 
 
 " Read them aloud my darlings. These orders are the voice 
 of God. To us, they are the peans of holy Victory, Justice and 
 white-winged Peace." 
 
 Fanny read in a voice tremulous v/ith grateful joy, — 
 
 Headquarters Department of the South, } 
 Hilton Head, S. C, April lo, 1S65. J 
 
 [General Orders. No 41.] 
 
 Friday next, the 14th inst., will be the iourih anniversary of the capture of 
 Fort Sumter by the Rebels. A befiiiing celebration on that day, in honor of 
 its reoccupation by the National forces, has been ordered by the President, in 
 pursuance of which, Brevet Major-General Robert Anderson, United States 
 Army, will restore to its original place on the fort the identical flag which, after 
 an honorable and gallant defense, he was compelled to lower to the insurgents 
 in South Carolina, in April, 1861. 
 
 The ceremonies for the occasion will commence with prayer, at thirty minutes 
 past II o'clock, A. M. 
 
 At noon, precisely, the flag will be raised and saluted with one hundred guns 
 from Fort Sumter, and with a National salute from Fort Moultrie and Battery- 
 Bee, on Sullivan's Island, Fort Putnam on Morris' Island and Fort Johnson on 
 James' Island ; it being eminently that the places which were so conspicuous in 
 the inauguration of the rebellion^should take a part not less prominent in the 
 national rejoicing over the restoration of the national authority. 
 
 After the salutes, the Reverend Henry Ward Beecher will deliver an address. 
 
 The ceremonies will close with prayer and a benediction. 
 
 Colonel Stewart L. Woodford, chief of the staff, under such verbal instruc- 
 tions as he may receive, is hereby charged with the details of the celebration, 
 comprising all the arrangements that it may be necessary to make for the ac- 
 commodation of the orator of the day, and the comfort and safety of the invited 
 guests from the army and navy and from ci"v il. 
 
 By command of Major-General Q. A. Gilmore. 
 
 W. L. M. Burger, 
 Assistant Adjutant-General, 
 
734 ' WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "Afra, dear, read your Psalm of Peace," said her father, who 
 did not deem the thankful tears in his own eyes unmanly. 
 She read, — ^ 
 
 Flagship Philadelphia, / 
 
 Charleston Harbor, S. C, April 13, 1S65. ) 
 [General Order, No 36.] 
 
 (third yearly series.) 
 The public prints announce the surrender of the rebel army, under General 
 Lee, to the Commanding General of the United States Army, 
 
 As the ceremony ordered for the formal restoration of the Union Flag to 
 Sumter will occupy the greater part of to-morrow, it only remains to give the 
 rest of the day to some appropriate recognition of an event which seems to 
 leave no further power of effective resistance to the rebeljion. 
 
 The vessels of the Squadron will therefore dress-ship, in full colors, to- 
 morrow, at 8 o'clock, A. M-, and at the same time every vessel will fire a National 
 salute of twenty-one guns. 
 
 Twenty-one guns will also be fired at sunset, when the flags are hauled 
 down. 
 
 John A. Dahlgren, Rear Admiral, 
 
 Commanding So. Atlantic Blockading Squadron. 
 
 "There, dry your tears, both of you. More news yet. The 
 ' Oceanus ' was steaming up the bay, when I started home. I pre- 
 sume Richard and Claude, Lucy and Zaffiri are aboard. I am going 
 to meet them with Mr. John's rebel carriage." 
 
 He rang the bell for Abram, gave orders for tea, and departed. 
 
 After the embracings and rejoicings, Richard said to Fanny, — 
 
 " Sister, how splendidly you live here, in the rebel city ! Ele- 
 gance and luxury surround you. If you were not my radical sister, 
 a suspicion of your antecedents would invade my happiness. 
 Slave-holders lived like this ! " 
 
 " True, Richard," laughed Lucy. " Mirrors in which the whole 
 family is reflected at once 1 Marble and velvet furniture ! Three 
 servants! Oleanders, jasmins, roses, orange trees, vegetable-gar- 
 den, et cetera ! " 
 
 " Delightful ! delightful ! " ejaculated Zaffiri. " A fine piano for 
 Afra's skilful fingers, also." 
 
 The morning of the fourteenth dawned with a bright promise 
 for the day. About ten o'clock, nine steamers with flags flying and 
 bands playing, left the docks amid the enthusiastic cheeriug of 
 spectators and the joyful clamor of their crowded decks. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK -JUNE. 735 
 
 Richard, looking back at the gala fleet, said to his friends, — 
 
 " What a sublime spectacle we witness to-day. Compensation 
 has come at last, to the ' boys in blue,' who have borne the* strife 
 of battle, and to our government which so faithfully put down this 
 insurrection." 
 
 " Thoughts of this magnificent scene makes one faint," exclaimed 
 Zaffiri. " That I should have lived to see this day." 
 
 Without accident the participants in the national fete were 
 landed. Over the parapets and down the long stairway to the par- 
 ade ground of the fort, flowed a rainbow-hued cascade of bright 
 uniforms, gay dresses, handsome young officers, sun-burned vet- 
 erans, happy faces and sparkling eyes. 
 
 After the recitation of the Te Deuni and prayer ; after the read- 
 ing by Rev. R. L. Storrs, Jr., D. D., aiid the audience, alternately, 
 of Psalms 126, 47, 98 and 20, and the reading of Major Anderson's 
 dispatch to the Government of the fate of Sumter, dated April 18, 
 186 1, Major Anderson and his faithful Sargaent Hart unfurled the 
 glorious old banner, with an evergreen wreath attached, and with 
 many loyal hands hold of the halyards, up ! up ! to the top of the 
 staff the starry emblem floated on the strong breeze, and the in- 
 describable enthusiasm of the multitude below. Simultaneously 
 the assemblage rose, and for fifteen minutes saluted the dear sym- 
 bol of Hope and Peace with cheers, hats, handkerchiefs, tears, smiles 
 and joyful acclamation. 
 
 Two hundred guns saluted the flag and bellowed forth victory to 
 the echoing shores. 
 
 " Let us listen," said Mr. Lambelle seriously, "with reverence to 
 these iron voices which have proclaimed to our nation the words of 
 truth and soberness, that reason and religion have failed to 'utter. 
 Barbarians that we are, let us admire the sulphurons mouths that 
 have thundered, ' Let the oppressed go free.^ " 
 
 The orders of General Gilmore were enthusiastically carried out, 
 and at the close of the exercises the vast collection scattered over 
 the fort, seeking mementos of the occasion. Bits of woods, pieces 
 of rusty shell, fragments of masonry, splints of half-buried gabions, 
 wave-washed pebbles and broken sea shells were hoarded by all , 
 withered flowers and green sprays were gathered from the speakers 
 stand and borne away with sacred memories. 
 
736 WHITE* MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Strangers swarmed in and out of the dismal casemates or 
 grouped upon the parapets. In one of the former, Richard dis- 
 covered Captain Thad IBuddington hardy and tanned. 
 
 *' Welcome, brave soldier," said Lucy. " You must have carried 
 a charmed life with the musket and knapsack. Mary will embrace 
 you with a grateful heart." 
 
 " / have lived to see the inm der of ?ny father avenged ! Mrs. Bea me, 
 every shot from my hand has been 2£//>2^c"^/ te///// his ?iame ; and I 
 have seen it do bloody work ; I have not come out of this war un- 
 scathed, but I am content with its achievements. Where are the 
 Sterlingworths ?" 
 
 " In the wilderness, somewhere," said Richard. " You will 
 accompany us home 1 " 
 
 " I shall do so with pleasure. Beg Mrs. Sterlingworth not to 
 wait tea for me ; I shall take my supper at the Charleston Hotel. 
 The steamer * Anna Maria ' is at the landing. Excuse my 
 haste." 
 
 He bounded up the long stairway and disappeared. Every eye 
 at leaving the fort gave the flag a benediction, and kindled afresh 
 in contemplating the colors that dressed the squadron in recogni- 
 tion of Lee's surrender. 
 
 After tea, Afra lured her Uncle Richard and Lucy into the 
 streets, and after an interesting inspection of the curious throngs, 
 led them, unwarned, to Issy's home. 
 
 During their absence, Captain Thad Buddington, accompanied 
 by an old negro slave, pjiid his promised visit. 
 
 " Sit down, June," said the captain, " in this parlor ; let the 
 kitchen take care of itself. You are among friends, now." 
 
 The gray-haired old slave obeyed, taking his seat in a corner. 
 
 " Come up among us," said Mr. Sterlingworth, with the consid- 
 eration which his family ever manifested to one of his class. 
 " You have served all your life. Learn to be free as soon as pos- 
 sible." 
 
 " I have not served all my life, sir," replied June. " I was born 
 free." 
 
 " Ah ! were you kidnapped in the North ? " 
 
 •' I was shipwrecked and cast ashore on one of the sea islands, 
 sir ; was picked up by Southerners and put in Charleston work- 
 
WHITE MAY AND BLACK JUNE. 737 
 
 house. I was kept there a long time, and then was sold into sla- 
 very to pay my jail fees, sir." 
 
 " Why did you not insist that you was free, or write to your 
 Northern friend, if you had any ? " asked Fanny, pityingly. 
 
 Mr. Larabelle answered for June. 
 
 " Why, Mrs. Sterlingworth, in the first place he could get no one 
 to write for him, and in the next, if he had written a hundred let- 
 ters for himself they wonld all have been destroyed instead of be- 
 ing posted. This man, June, would have been used in the same 
 manner if he had sailed a free seaman, cook or steward, into the 
 port of Charleston. He would have been imprisoned till the ves- 
 sel sailed away, and if overlooked and left behind he would have 
 been sold all the same. 
 
 " The Legislature of South Carolina passed an act in 1835 ^^ 
 that effect. The captain of such vessels bringing from other 
 ports free cooks, stewards or mariners were obliged to enter into a 
 ' recognizance with good and sufficient surety for such free negro 
 or slave, so brought into this State that he would comply with the 
 requisitions of this act,' and on his neglect or refusal, or disability 
 to do the same, he was compelled to haul his vessel into the stream 
 one hundred yards distant from the shore and remain there "until 
 the vessel should proceed to sea. If the captain refused this, he 
 was indicted and convicted, made to pay one thousand dollars and 
 suffer imprisonment six months." 
 
 "Our sea-captains were not over-zealous for the welfare of free 
 colored people," said Mr. Sterlingworth, " and many a poor fellow 
 has been left in jail to be sold at vendue. The State was benefitted 
 by this act, for it had one half the proceeds of the sale of every 
 one." 
 
 "Many a one," answered Mr. Lambelle. "This nefarious act 
 brought Samuel Hoar to Charleston in 1844, to confer with the 
 Governor, for the purpose of having the legality of such imprison- 
 ment tried before the Supreme Court, and the * collection and 
 transmission of accurate information, respecting the number and 
 the names of citizens of Massachusetts who have heretofore been 
 or may be imprisoned without the allegation of any crime. 
 
 *'He and his daughter staid at the hotel three days, submitting 
 to insults and threats. The legislature convened at that time in 
 
738 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Columbia, received information from Governor Hammond, of the 
 Idler that Mr. Koar had addressed to him, and in frantic haste 
 passed resolutions, expelling that gentleman from the State." 
 
 " What was the substance of those resolutions," asked Fanny, 
 engedy. 
 
 " I can repeat the last two, for it has been the business of my 
 life to study and observe Southern motives and diplomacy. In the 
 * first place, Mr. Hoar was denominated a seditious person, danger- 
 ous to the State. The- third resolution read thus, — 
 
 "'That the emissary sent by the State of Massachusetts to the 
 State of South Carolina, with the avowed purpose of interfering 
 with her institutions and disturbing her peace, is to be regarded in 
 the character he has assumed, and to be treated accordingly.' 
 
 " The fourth resolution was in these words, — 
 
 " * That his Excellency, the Governor, be requested to expel 
 from our Territory the said agent, after due notice to depart ; and 
 that the legislature will sustain the executive authority in any 
 measure it may adopt for the purpose aforesaid.' 
 
 " Gentlemen informed Mr. Hoar that he was in imminent dan- 
 ger while remaining in the city, and the hotel-keeper demanded he 
 should leave for the safety of his house. He was compelled to 
 enter a carriage at the door, and take a boat homeward." 
 
 "Ah!" laughed the captain, "Columbia dared not try her leg- 
 i:5laiive enactments on the sixty thousand seditious persons led by 
 Sherman, although I think the peace of the State was more dis- 
 tuibed by his forces, than by the gentlemanly mission of Mr. 
 Hoar!" 
 
 '• True, true ! " ejaculated Fanny ; more carriages would be neces- 
 saiy than are left in this city, to expel the Yankees from the 
 Charleston Hotel." 
 
 " You would have to deal with General Gilmore, to-night," said 
 Mr. Sterlingworth." 
 
 "We have forgotten our friend, June," said Zaffiri. "Did you 
 not insist to your jailors that you were free ? " 
 
 "It was of no use, ma'am. I was paid for it by the whip. I saw 
 one man in the work-house that I knew in the North. I appealed 
 to him, but with one oath, he declared every word I said was 
 false." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 739 
 
 " In what Northern State did you live before your shipwreck ? " 
 
 " In Massachusetts, ma'am." 
 
 "What part — or what town ? " 
 
 "In Alderbank, near Cloudspire." 
 
 Startled and amazed, she asked, — 
 
 " Had you many acquaintances there, and what were their 
 names ? " 
 
 '• I knew the town's people generally. One family were friends 
 to me and my wife and children. Their name was Beame. Fanny 
 Beame was kind to Susan, my wife, and to my children. I worked 
 for Deacon Steele and others, but my life was hard there, and I 
 tried the sea." 
 
 "Trembling nervously, she asked, — 
 
 " What was your name ? " 
 
 " Henry Hughes, madam." 
 
 " Do you know that lady, June, who addressed you ? " asked the 
 captain. 
 
 " Her voice seems like one I heard years ago." 
 
 Mrs. Sterlingworth rushed to June, seized his hand, and cried, — 
 
 " I am Fanny Beame ! the same Fanny Beame that loved Susie 
 and your children ! " 
 
 She buried her face in her hands and wept, while the bent form 
 of the old slave bowed lower, dropping tears upon his clasped 
 hands. 
 
 Zafhri wept with Fanny and June. The bright light of the chan- 
 dalier grew dim to sterner eyes than theirs. 
 
 For many minutes there was the solemn silence of grief. At 
 length the captain said, — 
 
 " I have told June nothing of his family. He knew not that he 
 was to meet you here. He wished to go North under my protec- 
 tion." 
 
 "Tell him all, Ruben," sobbed Fanny to her husband. " I can- 
 not ! Oh ! how dreadful this is ! " 
 
 "June, what were your children's names.? " he asked. 
 
 " Will and Addie, sir." 
 
 "Well, Henry Hughes, there is good news for your last days, 
 even in this accursed city. Vour daughter, Addie, is married to a 
 
740 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 physician and gentleman. She lives in good style, is what we call 
 wealthy. Susie, your wife, is dead ! " 
 
 The old man groaned, and wrung his hands. 
 
 " She is buried in Cloudspire graveyard. Willie, your son is a 
 lawyer in Boston, a man of excellent reputation." 
 
 " Where is Addie, sir ? " moaned June. 
 
 " She is in this city, ready to welcome her long-lost father." 
 
 Merry voices were heard coming up the walk. Mr. Sterlingworth 
 passed into the hall, saying, — 
 
 "You are excused, I will meet my friends at the door." 
 
 He took the party to the privacy of another room and related to 
 Issy and Addie the surprise of the evening, also to Afra, Richard 
 and Lucy. 
 
 Addie, sobbing wildly, almost fainted in the arms of her hus- 
 band. 
 
 " It cannot be ! it cannot be ! " she repeated, over and over. 
 
 " Hush, my poor Addie," said Issy, at last, " Let us 'turn our 
 tears to rejoicing over the lost one. Let us take his broken heart 
 to our own home and tender keeping. Are you not glad, my poor 
 darling ? This is but o^ie of the cruelties of slavery. Thousands 
 upon thousands have suffered the agonies of your dear father with- 
 out the compensation that will come to his old age to-night, when 
 he clasps you to his heart. Let us go to him ; he has t/irce chil- 
 dren now, Addie." 
 
 Richard and Lucy had already made themselves known to 
 Henry, who was still standing. Addie entered the parlor with 
 Issy, looked upon the tall, bent from, and with a cry sprang for- 
 ward and threw her arms about his neck, — 
 
 " Dear, dear, father ! " she sobbed, " I am Addie ! your lost 
 Addie ! " 
 
 " Such scenes as these are the results of this bloody war," said 
 Richard. " This first fruit of freedom was reserved for our eyes, 
 Lucy." 
 
 While our friends are revolving and enjoying the happy reunion, 
 another scene was being enacted in a private chamber at the 
 Charleston Hotel. 
 
 Three names had been written on the books with which the 
 reader is familiar. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 741 
 
 M. Justine Sillton, Ohio. Mrs. Edmee Sillton, Ohio. Mrs. May 
 B. Dentelle, and servant, Savannah, Ga. 
 
 Edmee Sillton and May Dentelle retired immediately after the 
 tea hour to the chamber of the latter. 
 
 While General Gilmore's grand reception occupied the attention 
 of the host and corps of servants, while the music of the band 
 echoed on the night, these two ladies held their conversation un- 
 disturbed till a late hour. 
 
 May, like the majority of Southern ladies, wore deep mourning ; 
 her fine features were impressed with an habitual sadness ; 
 but changing entirely the gay, blooming, animated expression of 
 former years. 
 
 Mrs. Sillton, grown older, was the personification of health and 
 happiness. 
 
 " Dear Edmee, I think you grow superb as you advance in 
 years," said May with a mournful smile. " You have the inspiration 
 of continued love about you. You thrive on sweet memories, while 
 I need daily draughts of ihe waters of Lethe, to live the joyless life 
 left to me. Augustus sleeps in an unknown grave among those 
 who vainly sacrificed their lives for the South. Mamma Bloome 
 died in Europe, and my three sweet children exhaled from my sight 
 like sparkling dew-drops in the morning sun." 
 
 *' To lose friends, dear May, is the common lot of all ; time 
 will heal grief — hope will spring anew in future days." 
 
 " No, Mrs. Sillton, time will not change or soften one phase of 
 my life. It is that which brought me here to meet you in Charles- 
 ton. It is that mystery which I am about to ask you to help me 
 solve." 
 
 " Proceed, Mav." 
 
 " Edmee, I know myself the most part of my life, but there are 
 faint dream-like, indistinct memories floating over my brain which 
 I cannot clearly recall. These turbid recollections would not have 
 stirred but for old ' June, ' my servant of years, and to whom I am 
 much attached. Since Sherman opened Savannah to his forces 
 our slaves have become free. In February last, I noticed a deep 
 anxiety brooding constantly on old June's face. He was con- 
 stantly studying me; following me with an earnest and troubled 
 
742 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 look ; fixing his gaze upon me, till he became so lost to everything 
 that he heard not even my orders. 
 
 " I questioned him concerning this unwonted abstraction and 
 finally forced him to reveal what troubled him. To come to the 
 fatal truth, he almost convinced me that I was born a slave in 
 South Carolina — that my mother's name was * Isabel ' — that my 
 father sold me to a slave-trader for the New Orleans market, and 
 that my baby name was ' Lillian.' 
 
 " Who did he say your father was, May?" 
 
 " William Steele on Colonel Fairland's plantation ; and would 
 you believe I have read that name on a small stone, myself, under 
 the trees down by the river, on that same plantation. I can speak 
 of it coolly, now, but I was prostrated in bed by a nervous fever 
 brought on by this revelation." 
 
 " How could June know all this ? " 
 
 "VVhere do you imagine he professes to have learned my history, 
 Edmee ? he says in Massachusetts ; that this William Steele went 
 North, years ago, to visit his brother; that he, June, sat in the 
 kitchen by the open door and heard it all. William Steele told his 
 brother that my mother was nearly white ; that he obliged her to 
 live with him a year or more ; that she died and was buried by the 
 r i ve r. Ed m ee, / have see?i two graves there. ' ' 
 
 " May, how could this old slave have been in Massachusetts t " 
 
 " He says he was free and was shipwrecked on the coast of 
 South Carolina, was taken to the work-house and after some time 
 was sold." 
 
 " Then I cannot understand why he should dare to select you 
 for this child, sold to a traveling trader. Why you more than a 
 thousand other ladies ? Who owned June before Augustus bought 
 him for you ? ' 
 
 " Colonel Haywood. He bought him from the work-house at 
 public sale. Oh ! you asked how he dared to select me. He says 
 1 continually remind him of the Steeles in my voice, and certain 
 resemblances in my features. He came finally to be i?iipressed that 
 I was Lillian, how much soever he strove against it. He said a 
 voice, everywhere, whether he was asleep or awake declared it. 
 He heard William Steele say that when I was born, a 7nark like 
 drops of blood flowing down was on my shoulders. That Isabel, my 
 
WHITE MAY AND BLACK JUNE. 743 
 
 so-called mother, was brought up delicately and for some reason 
 was sold to work in the field ; that she could not do her task and 
 the driver cut her shoulders with his black whip till the blood 
 flowed and she fainted. Following his impressions, June per- 
 suaded my dressing-maid to tell him, before hand, if there were 
 blood marks on my shoulders, without giving her a reason. Edmee, 
 ' they are there." 
 
 May, who had successfully struggled with her feelings till the 
 present moment, broke down, and gave way to an uncontrollable 
 fit of weeping. In broken and incoherent sentences, she cried, — 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Sillton, I cannot be a slave ! I cannot go down so low. 
 I have been educated and raised among the noblest of the land ; I 
 cannot lose caste, and with it the respect to which I have been 
 accustomed. I would rather die. I have been tempted again and 
 again to throw myself into the Savannah." 
 
 " Does Papa Bloome know anything of this ? " 
 
 ^"Not a syllable," 
 
 " Does your father-in-law, Denfelle, dream of it ? " 
 
 " Oh ! Edmee, he was forced to know it. Those two terrible 
 weeks I was delirious and raved about all June had told me. 
 Papa Dentelle has idolized me since my first acquaintance with 
 Augustus, and he watched me then day and night. He had a 
 couch made for himself in my chamber and nursed me with anxious 
 solicitations. He selected Augustus' old nurse to attend with him ; 
 she did not hear much ; he would have her come in only as occa- 
 sion required. When I recovered, he opened the subject and told 
 me to preserve silence to others ; and if, after seeing you, my 
 slave birth should be corroberated to keep silence forever. He 
 said, — 
 
 " ' May, I am an old man ; the deaths of nearly all my family 
 have broken my spirit. I have no one to supply Augustus' place 
 but you, my child. I love you now in spite of this great dread, 
 which you term disgrace. Be calm, and live to comfort my last 
 days.' 
 
 " Oh ! I love Papa Dentelle as well as Papa Bloome. But I feel 
 this infamy myself. I am proud, Edme'e. How can I ever meet 
 Madame Lambelle, and maintain this falsehood of rank and high- 
 birth, if it really be one.^ " 
 
744 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 *' May," said Mrs. Sillton, "I have learned that being a slave 
 does not confer disgrace. The advancing age calls for equality 
 among the races of men. The tendency of nations and communi- 
 ties is towards a universal recognition of rights. The voice of God 
 and Nature demand it. Suppose you really had been born a slave, 
 to follow the condition of your mother's bondage, ignorance and 
 subjection. Would that have changed the inherent possibilities of 
 your nature ? Would you not be then, in mental faculties and 
 moral capacity, just what you are now.? In refinement and cul- 
 ture, you would have been repulsively different no doubt. To what 
 would this difference be due ? May, only to lack of opportunity. 
 Do you not see there is no caste but the wicked distinction that 
 men in power force upon the helpless and oppressed. What harm 
 if you 2oe/r born a slave.-' Slavery is dead forever.'' 
 
 "Oh, Edmee ! I never heard you speak this way before — you, 
 so proud and blue blooded." 
 
 " May, I never had occasion, and blue blood has found its 
 l^roper level. It has soaked into the soil to nourish into life some- 
 ihing more beautiful than Southern pride.^^ 
 
 " Edmee ! dear Edme'e ! all this is a new language to me. I 
 cannot comprehend it. Let us return to myself. Help me, I pray, to 
 unravel the mystery I am searching out. Was I born a slave 'i and 
 if so, how come I to be Papa Bloo??ie^s daughter ? " 
 
 Mrs. Sillton, who had been pacing the carpet, returned, seating 
 herself in front of May, and hesitated. 
 
 " Well, I cannot avoid the inevitable ! I had hoped that you would 
 have ended your life in the belief that you are, and was, the child 
 of our Mr. and Mrs. Bloome. But it seems that the iniquitious 
 deeds of slavery must come to light. I know but a portion of your 
 history. The old slave June has informed you of the rest. I am 
 now going to make it clear to you, that, you were by birth a slave. 
 That, doubtless, William Steele, your father, sleeps at ' Le Grand 
 Palais,' by the side of Isabel, your mother. 
 
 " Now listen. After my marriage and settlement in Mississippi, 
 with Mr Sillton, I found that his principles would not allow him to 
 enter into the sin of slave-holding, although our house was supplied 
 with a sufficient number of servants ; they were all hired. Only 
 once he bought and owned a human being. He had business at 
 
THE KU KLUX OATH. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 745 
 
 quite a distance from home, not so far however, but that he was 
 driven in our carriage, two or three days journey. In the midst of 
 a forest he encountered a slave-trader, with chained gangs of men 
 and women, and the huge ungainly wagon-arks for children. Mr. 
 Sillton alighted, made an examination of the slave-drove, as if to 
 buy ; inquired prices and qualities, simply to observe the wicked- 
 ness and cruelty sanctioned by a Republican government, and 
 professedly, the most enlightened Christian nation on the globe. 
 
 " He passed on to a huge covered wagon whence issued the 
 chirping of children, and peered in. A little, fair, blue-veined 
 child, with eyes like wood violets, and with curling flaxen hair, 
 toddled up on her feet, put out her small, white arms towards him 
 and cried, ' Papa, papa ! Lily tire.' The dimness of the wagon 
 and her eagerness to find some friend, caused her to forget iden- 
 tity. 
 
 " Mr. Sillton extended his hands, and said, — 
 
 " ' Come, come, Lily ! ' 
 
 ^ " Stumbling and falling among the crowded infants, she reached 
 him, clasped him round the neck and nestled down in his arms. 
 
 " 'Trader,' he asked, * what is the price of this child ? ' 
 
 " ' Five hundred dollars, sir ; you see she's a nice piece of flesh. 
 I don't often get that quality of article.' 
 
 " ' I will make the purchase,' replied my husband. It happened 
 that he had more than that amount of money with him. He counted 
 out the five hundred dollars and was hurrying to the carriage with 
 Lily in his arms, when the trader arrested his steps. 
 
 "'Here, mister, I've got a paper for you to take along,' at the 
 same time opening his pocket-book. ' If there's anything wrong 
 about that pickaniny, you'll be in as much trouble as I. We traders 
 trying to get an honest living, are took up sometimes for stealing 
 niggers ; so, when I bought that white one on a rainy night in South 
 Carolina, I got my customer to write a paper that I was all right, 
 that she was his slave. Here's the paper, and name signed to it.' 
 
 " Mr. Sillton looked it over, and read ihe signature, — ' William 
 Steele, Le Grand Palais, South Carolma.' " 
 
 " He brought the little creature to me, disheveled and travel- 
 soiled. Her dust-smirched cheeks were channeled with baby tears, 
 her dress was torn nearly to shreds. 
 
74^ WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " ' There,' said my husband, ' is my only slave purchase. Heaven 
 forgive me, Edniee, you know what motive impelled the act.' 
 
 " I kept her in my room till a little suit was prepared. Then, 
 washed, clad in white, with blue ribbons, in great delight, she 
 turned round and round before the mirror, lisping, ' Pitty Lilly I 
 Pity fite dess ! Lilly nice 1 ' " 
 
 "I had an irresistible desire to have that child brought up away 
 from the contact of slavery. In accordance vvith my wishes, wc 
 took her to Ohio, and succeeded in getting her adopted by Mr. 
 Bloome, a relative of the Sillton family. The rest you kfiow, dear 
 May." 
 
 May scarcely moved a muscle during Edmee's recital. She 
 seemed to follow the trader, to be present at his camp in Missis- 
 sippi, and to have ridden home with Mr Sillton, in his carriage. 
 
 Now, her pale cheeks crimsoned with false shnme. She burred 
 her face in her handkerchief, and wet it with tears of humiliation. 
 
 " Fie, May Dentelle ! " cried Edmee, lifting the bent head and 
 supporting it against herself " Why will you shed these weak, 
 wicked tears.** See what I have done; 1 might as well have 
 allowed you to be raised and trained in the South, as in Mr. 
 Bloome's family. You are spoiled by Southern ideas. You never 
 was a slave, except by laws which had lost their savor and were fit 
 to be cast out and trodden under foot of men. Go back to Papa 
 Dentelle's love. Tell him all, and if his affection fails you, come 
 to Ohio, to my heart and home, and learn to be strong," 
 
 "Explain one thing more," sobbed May. "The motive that im- 
 pelled Mr. Sillton to purchase me." 
 
 " Have you not had enough of mysteries to-day?" asked Mrs. 
 Sillton. " Dry your eyes ; look into my face and learn to be 
 brave." 
 
 " There, now," taking her old seat before her listener. "Keep 
 your eyes upon me," repeated Edmee laughingly. 
 
 " The motive that impelled Mr. Sillton to buy ^-^z/, was because 
 I was once a slave, 7}iysclfy 
 
 May uttered a scream of terror. 
 
 "Look at me!" reiterated Edmee. "I was sold by my sister 
 at the auction-table, and the terms for my sale were that I should 
 toil in the Southern sun, with the planter's hoe. Mr. Sillton loved 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 74^ 
 
 me, and by the persuasions of my colored mother and white father, 
 he was allowed to bid me off. 
 
 He married me that night, after placing in my possession my 
 free papers, which were deposited in a silver box with my marriage 
 certiticate. I have them now, in Ohio. There, you cannot have 
 lost Caste with me ! " 
 
 This was the climax of May's endurance. She staggered to the 
 bed and fainted. 
 
 In the midst of Mrs. Sillton's efforts for the restoration of her 
 friend, a light tap at the door brought her face to face with an ap- 
 parent stranger. 
 
 "Madame Lambelle meets Mrs. Sillton, I believe," said the 
 visitor, cordially, entering the room splendidly atlired in silk, lace 
 and diamonds. "Mr. Lambelle has come on an invitation to Gen- 
 eral Gilmore's reception, and I took the pleasure of calling first 
 upon Mrs. Dentelle. Is she ill, Mrs. Siilton ? " she asked, ap- 
 proaching the bed. 
 
 " She will recover soon, she has fainted." 
 
 "How wan and wasted; I should scarcely recognize her," said 
 Madame Lambelle, liftmg a cold hand. " I have not seen May for 
 several years." 
 
 " The events of the war have effected her much." 
 
 " Perhaps I should withdraw. It may shock her nerves to meet 
 me suddenly. I leave for her my love and sympathy." 
 
 Madame Lambelle stole out of the chamber, and joined the 
 bright scene below, which was often clouded by thoughts of May's 
 quiet suffering. 
 
 CHxlPTER XXXVII. 
 
 THE next morning after the discovery of Addie's father, after 
 an almost sleepless night of joyful sorrow and sorrowful joy, 
 she said to him at table, — 
 
 " Dear father, Charleston is to witness another gala day in wel- 
 come to, and in honor of the Commander-in-Chief of the moral 
 and reUgious forces of the United States, William Lloyd Garrison, 
 
74^ WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 of Boston. Thousands of people will be out to look upon the face, 
 and listen to the voice of one who would never have knowingly- 
 been allowed to land at any port in the South, unless it had been 
 for his imprisonment and death, in order to obtain the high re- 
 ward offered for his head. Will you go with us, to welcome this 
 great apostle of peace and good will to men ? " 
 
 " You must excuse me, my daughter, I have never heard his 
 name. I know but three apostles, Mrs. Bearne, Richard, and 
 Fanny Beame. They preached the gospel of hope to me. Their 
 words of encouragement have been hidden in my soul, through all 
 these years of bondage. They smoothed my poor Susan's way to 
 the grave. They saved my children, Addie. The world has passed 
 me by, with its doings. I shall attend to my dear mistress, as long 
 as she remains in this city. I have heard of ministering angels, 
 my child. I have seen one in mistress May." 
 
 " So, with Issy, old June made his way to the hotel ; and, while 
 the masses swayed, swarmed, cheered and rejoiced around the 
 speaker's stand erected on Citadel Green, and crowded Zion's 
 Chureh, presenting a sea of grateful, tearful, adoring upturned faces 
 to William Lloyd Garrison and George Thompson, the old slave 
 sat in the hall by May's door, with his head bent over his folded 
 hands, listening lovingiy for her slightest command. 
 
 There was to be a general reunion of acquaintances and friends 
 in Fanny's parlors, for the afternoon ; but May kept her room un- 
 disturbed, sav^ by a call from Addie, presenting flowers from her- 
 self and Madame Lambelle. 
 
 Holding the hand of June in hers at the door, she said, smiling 
 gracefully, — 
 
 " I am Addie, Henry Hughes' daughter, from the North, Mis- 
 tress Dentelle. I have come to thank you for the great kindness 
 shown my father, in bondage." 
 
 "Come in, Addie," said May, sadly. "I have heard your name 
 before. Come in and tell me your story and June's." 
 
 Her father closed the door upon them ; and when Addie trod 
 the streets homeward, the stars were shining. 
 
 Claude and Pearl, (as Zaffiri begged to be called after the old 
 Flag floated over Sumter) waited in the hotel parlors for the Sill- 
 tons, and escorted them to Mr. Sterlingworth's in Mr. John's rebel 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 749 
 
 carriage. Nothing of Edmee's history, so frankly exposed to May 
 the day previous, was known to any one of the company. Pearl 
 Lambelle greeted her, as her Atlantic voyage acquaintance and the 
 cherished friend of May. 
 
 When Mrs. Sillton saw Richard and Lucy Beame, she raised the 
 hand of the former to her lips, exclaiming,— 
 
 " My revered pastor ! " 
 
 Richard answered, — 
 
 " My faithful and generous parishioner ! " 
 
 She embraced Lucy, exclaiming, — 
 
 " Thou noblest of pastor's wives, and the inspiration of my life ! " 
 
 Fanny, hearing these words, guessed the solution of the cheering 
 letter she had received from Ohio, the season after her brother's 
 marriage, and saw in the beautiful and winning stranger his bene- 
 factress. 
 
 Mrs. Sillton cast her eyes about the apartments, out of the long, 
 open windows to the garden, and said to her hu-band, pressing her 
 hand to her breast, — 
 
 •'Ah, it is my turn to faint now! My heart throbs violently! 
 You may have forgotten ! " 
 
 " She sank quickly upon a seat near, exclaiming, — 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen, pardon me ! In these retributive days 
 my triumph is among them. 
 
 '* I beg permission in a few words, at present, to inform you- that 
 for years I was held a slave in this house. I have lived to see a 
 family of abolitionists occupying the mansion of Chancellor 
 Mowndes, my father. I was given to my sister, Gracie Mowndes, 
 who accused me falsely before her marriage of 'dallying with her 
 lover, Ralph Haywood, simply because that gentleman, who had 
 been absent in Europe, mistook me, her maid, for Gracie herself, 
 and bowed to me from this upper piazza. There is the same wis- 
 teria, or one springing from it, that I was clipping at the time ! " 
 
 She paused, affected with strong emotion. 
 
 Madame Lambelle besought her to proceed, while the others 
 remained silent with breathless attention. 
 
 " I agree. I think it better to finish this unpleasant subject at 
 once, and devote the afternoon to an interchange of other 
 thoughts." 
 
75^ WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Her husband kindly took up the narrative, bidding Edm^e rest. 
 
 *' Aly wife," he continued, " was taken from this house to the 
 auction sale, by her sister's orders. There, I bought the beautiful 
 girl, made her free and married her. We settled in Mississippi, 
 where I was then in business. At the breaking out of the war or 
 just before, as I knew it would come, I setded my affairs South, 
 and removed to my former home in Ohio. We have three fine 
 sons. Edmee wished to pay her respects to her relatives in 
 Charleston ; therefore we are here most opportunely and unex- 
 pectedly, to meet our former friends." 
 
 He turned to Madame Lambelle, and said with gayety, — 
 
 " I have often recalled tliat strange cotillion on the ocean 
 steamer,* where we first met. Edmee had never met her sister 
 Gracie or Colonel Haywood before, since her sale.'' 
 
 "Mrs. Sillton," said Pearl with laughter, "I named that dance the 
 ' Equality Cotillion.' I will explain to you the mysteries of that 
 brilliant, gobelin dance, as I now understand all the figures com- 
 posing it. You know Colonel Haywood and Gracie, also the cap- 
 tain and yourselves. I was a pure white slave, from this city — 
 exiled by the Fugitive Slave Bill. Mr. Vassano was an acknowl- 
 edged gentleman of color, born free in the South. Marie, his 
 daughter, of course had the same taint of color, in Colonel Hay- 
 wood's eyes, if he had not been charmingly deceived." 
 
 "I understand! I understand!" answered Mr. Sillton. "The 
 angels must have waved their white wings over that combination. 
 But another astonishment is forced upon us, in learning that the 
 accomplished favorite upon the Atlantic steamer, Madame Lam- 
 belle, was a captive from this city. We are still in a maze of in- 
 quiry." 
 
 The next hour was devoted to the disentanglement of Pearl's ex- 
 periences, and when all was understood, Mr. Lambelle led Afra to 
 the music-stand, saying, — 
 
 " Let us have the ' Star-Spangled Banner ' on this rebel piano, as 
 a fitting close to these romantic revelations." 
 
 "It is a union piano now, sir," replied Mr. Sterlingworth. "I 
 purchased it of the government-agent." 
 
 Every voice joined in the solemn hymn of triumph. Every face 
 was glorified. The 'Star-Spangled Banner ' was rendered in oper- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 751 
 
 atic Style, although with a more profuse embellishment of shakes, 
 tremulos,'and diminuendos, than a strictly classical school would 
 
 have required. - r^u ^ 
 
 On the morrow, the last day of May's continuance in. Charles- 
 ton, she received Zaffiri. No reference was made to the past of 
 
 either. i i i j 
 
 Zaffiri folded INIay in her arms, kissed the shadowy hands, and 
 
 after much persuasion, half obtained the promise that May would 
 
 go North with her, change the scene, and endeavor to regain 
 
 health and spirits. 
 
 " Two weeks will be ample time for you to prepare. Captain 
 Buddin^ton will go on at that time, also Mr. and Mrs. Silton," 
 she said cheerfullv. " You owe this effort to Papa Bloome, and 
 to your indulgent' Papa Dentelle. Their lives are bound up in 
 
 yours." 
 
 May returned to Savannah in the care of an officer, an acquaint- 
 ance of the captain's. Major Dentelle gave her a more cordial 
 welcome than ever before. As she expected, Mr. Bloome wason 
 his way to Indiana, which he had not visited during the war, having 
 spent the four years in his widowed house purchased before the 
 the death of his wife. 
 
 After a sufficient rest. Major Dentelle sought from May the 
 result of her conference with Mrs. Sillton. Without evasion she 
 gave a summarv answer. 
 
 "Oh, papal'Edmee has furnished the finishing chapter of my 
 life. My slave lineage is fully traced." . 
 
 After relating the incidents of her purchase, she presented him 
 the identical paper signed by William Steele at ' Le Grand Palais,' 
 South Carolina, which Mr. Sillton took from the trader's hands m 
 
 Mississipi. 
 
 "Of course," she says, "Mr. Sillton knew nothing of the ante- 
 cedents related by old June ; but the testimony of both corrobo- 
 rates all." Ml,,, -1 1 
 
 " Do not weep continually, my beautiful child, he said consol- 
 in-^ly. " I repeat to you again and again, that you are as dear to 
 m? now as on the day of your marriage. Dry those lustreless 
 eyes, and listen to a secret of my life, which your immoderate 
 and wearing grief obliges me to confide to your keeping. 
 
752 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " My dear May, there have been customs in the South, of which 
 you may not be aware. The pure and devoted affection of Augus- 
 tus for you, his first and only love, precludes the probability. 
 The men of the South before the war, took wives, or mistresses, as 
 you please to term them, from all shades of color from our slaves. 
 They often remained attached to them through life. Now a 
 slave-girl or woman could not legally marry either one of her own 
 race or of ours. Your Papa Dentelle in his youth, saw a lovely 
 slave-girl and loved her, bought her, and took apartments, living 
 with her like any man in his family ; never, however, forsaking 
 his paternal borne. This slave-girl, handsome as an Eastern 
 princess, and graceful as your Zaffiri, bore me three children. I 
 was young, reckless, and a spendthrift, wasted my fortune, in- 
 curred the displeasure of my parents, and married the wife you 
 know, Augustus' mother, thus repairing by her fortune, my losses. 
 
 "The octoroon was sold by my orders in Charleston, and her 
 children also. I have never ceased to love her memory or to feel 
 a sharp agony when I think of her heart-breaking separation from 
 me. May, my poor May, old June has shown me her fate, and 
 opened afresh my self-inflicted wound. That octaroon girl was 
 Isabel, your mother." 
 
 " Oh, papa ! I never dreamed of such loves ! How dreadful 
 must have been her fate. How terrible must have been her agony 
 to have left it written in letters of blood on the shoulders of her 
 child. Poor dear Isabel ! my beautiful mother ! " 
 
 She was sobbing now, not over her own sorrow ; she had stepped 
 upon a higher plane of discipline. She sobbed for the griefs of 
 another. The gray-headed Southerner neither checked nor 
 soothed her. Isabel's memory was resuscitating what slavery had 
 left of humanity in his bosom. 
 
 '• Am I like Isabel, papa ? " 
 
 " You are like her and have ever been. I have analyzed during 
 your absence, the elements of your belle-ship in Washington 
 before your marriage. I recall your peculiar fascination, and have 
 traced your likeness to Isabel. You had her changeable, dreamy, 
 sparkling eyes, her naivete, her hd-esprit^ her hauteur, her insouci- 
 ance, and as to features, the mirror tells the rest. It is a physi- 
 ological fact that the mingling of different races and nationalities 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 753 
 
 produces the finest specimens of human beauty. I have admired 
 ihe splendid Western physique in Sherman's army despite my 
 hatred of Northern hordes ; it is the result of the intermarriages 
 of different nationalities that emigrate to the North, from every 
 
 country in Europe. r t , i u r 
 
 " To return to May Bloome, I never thought of Isabel then, tor 
 how, I ask, in the name of Heaven, could I begin to imagine the 
 stupendous fact, that my Augustus would ever marry the child of Isa- 
 bel i I only felt your fascinating charms as others did. You have 
 my secret now. May, as a guarantee that you will be doubly dear , 
 to me for this discovery. So take heart. Go to New York with 
 the Lambelles. He is a democrat of the old stamp. He upholds 
 Southern Rights and Secession, which is not dead yet. Your 
 Southern pride will not be wounded in his family. Why did he 
 not come with his wife to Savannah ? " 
 
 " Dear papa, they were actuated by the most delicate motives — 
 they feel tha t this is not a time for condolence or congratulations 
 towards men of the South. ,, „ 
 
 " Like Lambelle ! " he said. " Come out into the garden, May. 
 
 She took Major Dentelle's arm, adorning his gray age with 
 
 her ripe, fair womanhood. , , i i 
 
 They wandered among the paths and arbors, as she had done in 
 the past with her beloved Augustus. 
 
 He broke a stem of the white Pcrles de V Lnperatrice, fastened 
 them in her hair, saying, — . 
 
 " May, I am still rich. I have not lost my possessions like 
 thousands of others. My blockade-running was a successful ven- 
 ture. You will be the sole heir of my gold and estates." 
 
 He requested her to be seated in an arbor ; and after further 
 conversation, placed in her hands an elaborately wrought ivory box. 
 She took from it a gold locket, which he opened by a secret spring. 
 There, folded in its natural rings, was a black silken curl which 
 dropped down in its ravishing beauty, as she raised it- from its vel- 
 
 '' There is a memento of your mother's charms," he said. " That 
 is a tress of Isabel's hair, which I have guarded with miserly care, 
 through the long, dreary years. I transfer it to her daughter's 
 keeping. Wear it, dear May, for Isabel's sake." 
 
754 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 After May's departure, Mr. and Mrs. Sillton spent much time 
 walking about Charleston, viewing the desolate scenes of the de- 
 vastating fire of 1861, and the destruction of Hardee's insane in- 
 cendiarism in the spring of 1865. They often passed the house 
 where Pauline had the rooms with the woman of Leonore's brother's 
 choice, where Pauline met Zoe on the night of her sale, and where 
 Zoe was married to the man she loved. 
 
 As they passed one morning, a gentleman dressed in faded, 
 seedy clothes, and rusty gloves, encountered them at the foot of 
 the steps. He was followed by a servant, carrying the inevitable 
 Yankee rations. 
 
 " By Jove ! " said the Southerner, "do I see right ? Is this Mr. 
 Sillton, from Mississippi, our acquaintance on the European 
 steamer ? " 
 
 " The same, sir," replied Mr. Sillton. Mrs. Sillton has been de- 
 sirous of paying her respects to Mrs. Haywood. Will your lady 
 receive a call this morning ? " 
 
 " Certainl}', you are Mississippians. If you were Yankees, I 
 should say, ' Move on ! ' Mrs. Haywood will give any true South- 
 erner a friendly hand." 
 
 They entered the half-furnished, plain parlor, with bare board 
 floors ; were cordially received, and listened for two long hours to 
 the trials of the war, which had been hopefully endured for the 
 Southern cause. 
 
 "This is one of my father's — Chancellor Mowndes'-houses," 
 said Gracie. "We came back from Columbia, and found papa's 
 mansion filled with Northerners. Mr. Haywood's fine house on 
 Broad street was burned in the terrible fire of 186 1. It is too late 
 in the season to attempt cultivation at ' Vaucluse,' even if the 
 Northern barbarians have left the plantation tenable. How have 
 you been during the struggle in Mississippi ? " 
 
 " We were not located near the points of contest, and conse- 
 quently havcnot suffered like many others, although Mr. Sillton 
 has given freely of his means to sustain the war, (meaning the 
 Federal side.) I felt a great interest in the misfortunes of 
 Charleston, and hastened here as soon as the way opened." 
 
 " Alas ! " said Gracie, "you find us all helplessly poor, although 
 we intend to carry on the contest till Independence hovers around 
 
WHITE MAY, ANDBLACK JUNE. 755 
 
 our banners. I could have torn those colors from Admiral Dahl- 
 gren's squadron, in honor of Lee's surrender, and trampled them 
 under mv feet ! Our Cause is 7iot lost I " 
 
 '• Sherman will find his match in Johnston ; he will not surren- 
 der ! " said Colonel Haywood testily. "Neither will our army in 
 the south-west. Roused by the proclamation of Jefferson Davis, 
 they will strive on, m the spirit of his closing words.'' 
 
 He took from his pocket a rudely printed paper, and read, — 
 
 " Let us not despond, my countrymen ; but relying on God, meet the 
 foe with fresh defiance, afid with unconquered and nnconquerable 
 hearts y 
 
 " Mr Sillton, we shall help Jefferson Davis, our President of the 
 Confederacy, carry out this reliance, outside of the army. We 
 shall enlarge our organization of the ' Order of American Knights !' 
 It works in Missouri, like a charm. I made my way there last au- 
 tumn, for special observations. These ' Knights ' profess to be 
 neutral. They are apparently a quiet people ; and if questioned 
 upon the war issues, they answer, they tuck fio sides. But, sir, they 
 carry on a successful guerrilla warfare." 
 
 " That must be an effective organization," said Mr. Sillton. 
 "Did you witness its activ^e operations .'' " 
 
 " By Jupiter ! I did. I mounted a horse, and went along with 
 Anderson's gang, that attacked a railroad train on the North J\lis- 
 souri road. He found aboard twenty-two unarmed soldiers on sick 
 leave. He took them out, and shot every one. Some, he scalped, 
 ■others, were laid across the railroad track, and the engine was run 
 over them ! I assisted in the latter duty. I should like to put 
 these blue-coats here in Charleston, through the same process. 
 General Price was Commander-in-Chief of this order in the South, 
 and Vallandigham, of Ohio, in the North. You have joined the 
 order of course, Mr. Sillton." 
 
 " I have subscribed my name, sir, (meaning to the Sanitary 
 Commission,) and have made my most strenuous efforts to further 
 its designs." 
 
 " That's the true spirit, Mr. Sillton," said Colonel Haywood, 
 shaking his hand with eagerness. "Go in for our secret Order — 
 exterminate Union men everywhere ! I found the women of Mis- 
 
7S6 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 souri as earnest as the men in this kind of warfare. I expect 
 Gracie and Mrs. Sillton will be as enthusiastic as they." 
 
 Edmee replied, — 
 
 " I shall throw my heart and efforts into every good work, Colo- 
 nel Haywood. Remember, I am a Southerner with the best of 
 blue blood as an incentive." 
 
 She turned to Gracie, and asked, — 
 
 '• Did you lose anything of value in Sherman's raid on Co- 
 lumbia.?" 
 
 " We lost all our movable valuables. Those renegades took fifty 
 thousand dollars worth of solid silver plate ; we have not a piece 
 left. During that ravaging fire, I saw them break open my trunk 
 and distribute our clothes to the half-naked negroes that followed 
 their regiments ! She held up the striped delaine dress she wore 
 to Edmee. * See ! I've had that dress ten years. It is my best. I 
 have no bonnet suitable to appear in public.'" 
 
 The gentlemen were absorbed in their own discourse. Edme'e 
 drew Gracie to the window, and took from her purse two fifty-dol- 
 lar greenbacks, saying, — 
 
 " Mrs. Haywood, can I offer these without offense ? I beg you 
 to accept them. We are both Southern born. I have not suffered 
 like you. Receive them as a small gift from one sister to 
 another." 
 
 Gracie hesitated, but finally carried Edmee's hand that held the 
 bills to her lips. She accepted them, wet with her own tears. At 
 parting, a kiss of unsought forgiveness remained upon Grade's lips, 
 and a kiss of gratitude on Edmee's. 
 
 After many inquiries of the old maumas that shuffled along the 
 streets, Mrs. Sillton, to her great joy, found one who knew Pauline. 
 With a low courtesy, she said, — 
 
 "She be dead, missis. She die after Sumter Took. Is you 
 Pauline chile, I hear her talk 'bout ? " 
 
 '' I am her child, mauma ! " 
 
 " Press de Lord ! " said the old creature, courtesying. 
 
 From her, Edmee learned that her mother died in the nouse 
 where Gracie now lived, surrounded with all needed comforts. Be- 
 fore the war Pauline had been gladdened by the sight of one of 
 Edmee's children, a daughter of twelve years. One of Mr. Sillton's 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 757 
 
 friends had taken her to Charleston and put up with her openly, at 
 the hotel. Her guardian, with proper directions as to the street 
 and number, took the young Pauline to her grandmother's rooms 
 every evening, under cover of darkness, thus spending a week in 
 Charleston, unknown. 
 
 Mr. Sillton received several calls from Colonel Haywood, in the 
 seedy coat, rusty gloves, and napless hat, at the Charleston Hotel ; 
 and was as often urged to actively espouse the cause of the Ameri- 
 can Knights as a Mississippian and a supporter of the Southern 
 cause. 
 
 Upon Edmee's return North, she mailed a letter in New York to 
 Gracie. She explained her late visit to Charleston, made her re- 
 lationship to Gracie known, and communicated a history of her 
 happy past. She extended a generous forgiveness, besought her 
 sister to become reconciled to the inevitable decrees of Truth and 
 Justice, and signed her name " Zoe." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVHI. 
 
 THE last of the month of May brought Mr. Link and Mary, 
 with the handsome lawyer, Alfred Buddington, to the bosom 
 of Mr. Sterlingworth's family. 
 
 Again, objects and places of interest were visited. Again, the 
 wonderful occurrences of the few past years were revived. 
 
 " Four years of ' Waterloo ' we have had," said Mr. Link ; *' that 
 should be enough to put down this Southern Napoleonic dynasty ! " 
 
 " I do not think the South know when they are beaten any more 
 than their arrogant prototype, Bonaparte, did. The eff^ ctive 
 strength and means of the Confederacy are exhausted. They are 
 forced to lay down their arms j but really they are as cruel, as de- 
 fiant, and self laudatory to day, as in 1861." 
 
 " If there must be vicarious blood in every kind of salvation, ex- 
 tending even to the Union, then I should suppose the blood of six 
 hundred thousand men would suffice for the safety of our Repub- 
 lic," replied Mr. Link. 
 
 "It would seem so, to a humane mind; but these Southerners arc 
 
758 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 blood-tliirstw We have proof of it in their secret Societies, formed 
 for the assassination of Union men and abolitionists. 
 
 "There was an Alabama planter, a Northern man, who in 1S60 
 en me near a violent death on account of an intercepted letter from 
 Connecticut. The old tricks of intercepting letters, you see I Tljis 
 letter besought him to give up his slaves and go North. To save 
 his own life he was obliged to join the minute-men and assist in 
 hanging six Northern men. In six weeks one hundred men were 
 hung in his section and the neighboring section of Georgia. Then 
 the unprecedented cruelty of the Confederates towards Northern 
 prisoners, in Andersonville, Belle-Isle, and other war prisons proves 
 of what cold-blooded atrocities the Southerner is capable. In my 
 opinion that kind of Southern sentiment is'unchanged." 
 
 " I think also," replied Mr. Link, " that if the legislatures of the 
 States in rebellion are allowed to assemble, they will pursue the 
 old courses of offensive legislation. President Lincoln made that 
 tpst in Richmond, when he promised a safeguard to Judge Camp- 
 bell, for the members who should assemble. Campbell's promises 
 were changed into a general legislation for the State. But the 
 President soon saw his error, and ordered General Weitzel to 
 revoke the safeguard, and permit the members of the legislature to 
 return to private life." 
 
 ]\Ir. Scerlingworth replied that Governor Magrath had summoned 
 the State officers of South Carolina to Columbia, to resume their 
 duties. 
 
 ''Mr. Link," said Afra, clapping her hands, '*' General Gillmore, 
 with a few strokes of his military pen, has annulled Governor 
 Magrath's acts, and has notified persons interested not to heed his 
 proclamations. This people know very well that General Gillmore's 
 sword lies beside his pen ! " , 
 
 " He has annulled Governor Brown's proclamation in Georgia, 
 and a similar act in Florida," said her father. 
 
 ** Is it not singular," asked Afra, " that these slave-masters who 
 always demanded the military to put down slave insurrections, 
 should find the Federal army holding the sword of subjection over 
 their own insurrectionary heads.'' " 
 
 "The South claimed the arbitration of the sword, and its prayer 
 is answered," replied Fanny, laughing. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 759 
 
 "The last Northern concession to the South was an engagement 
 in civil war. Now what will be the first concession from the South 
 to the North.?" asked Mr. Sterlingworth. 
 
 "Reconstruction ! " was the unanimous answer 
 
 "I think," said Mr. Link in his calm manner, "that a thorough 
 reconstruction of this section will include colored suffra"-e, and an 
 accordance to the freedmen of all rights we ourselves enjo}'. Both 
 of these preliminaries have many opponents in the North, in Con- 
 gress, and in President Johnson. The struggle will be a hard one ; 
 andj it appears to me, will keep our army in requisition for some 
 time to come." 
 
 "The Anti-Slavery amendment went through Congress by the 
 skin of its teeth — 119 ayes to 59 nays — nays all Democrats — 
 only seven votes more than two thirds," said Alfy. "Thank God ! 
 sixteen Democrats voted with the Republicans. With Greely and 
 the one hundred guns that saluted the sublime result, I say,' God 
 bless the Thirtv-Eighth American Congress ! ' I was present. 
 Miss Afra, in Washington, and never witnessed a more thrilling 
 scene. Despite the gloom on the Democratic side over their foiled 
 attempts to ' ram the struggling negro back under the protection of 
 the sacred Constitution,' the enthusiasm was unbounded, in the 
 crowded galleries and with the throng on the floor. Senators, 
 judges, soldiers, women and pages joined in the august and thun- 
 dering excitement. Amid the waving of handkerchiefs and hats, 
 and clapping hands, rose cries of, ' Hurrah for Freedom ! ' ' Vic- 
 tory ! ' ' Glory enough for one day ! ' The tumult was deaf- 
 ening." 
 
 " The silvery voice of Whittier took up the echo, and completed 
 the triumph," said Mary. " Do, Alfy, repeat a part of his Lau^ 
 Deo. I never tire of hearing that," she said, with idolatry for her 
 son in the very tone. 
 
 " Do, Alfy," begged Afra. 
 
 He repeated, — 
 
 ** It is done ! 
 
 Clang of bell and roar of gun, 
 Send the tidings up and down. 
 
 How the belfries rock and reel ! 
 
 How the great guns, peal on peal, 
 Fling the joy from town to town .' 
 
760 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Ring, O bells! 
 
 Every strike exulting tells 
 Of the burial hour of crime. 
 
 Loud and long, that all may hear, 
 
 Ring for every listening ear 
 Of Eternity and Time. 
 
 How they pale, 
 Ancient myth and song and tale, 
 
 In this wonder of our days, 
 When the cruel rod of war 
 Blossoms white with righteous law, 
 
 And the wrath of man is praise. 
 
 Ring and swing ! 
 
 Bells of joy on morning's wing 
 Send the song of praise abroad, 
 
 With a sound of broken chains, 
 
 Tell the nations that He reigns, 
 God alone, is Lord and God." 
 
 "What a solemn grandeur is in those words," said Fanny. " No 
 Southerner could have written them. A true and earnest love of 
 freedom exalts all talent and literature." 
 
 " What would the world say to hear such words from the lips of 
 Barnwell Rhett } " asked Mr. Link, a smile stealing over his be- 
 nignant face. " He, more than any other, has fired the Southern 
 heart with madness. This is what he said, in i860, of the North. 
 * Upon a dissolution of the Union, their whole system of commerce 
 and manufactures will be paralyzed and overthrown ; their banks 
 will suspend specie payments ; their stocks and real estate will fall 
 in price, and confusion and distress will pervade the North. Mobs 
 will break into their palaces, and society there will be resolved 
 into its original chaos. Many of the Free States will desire to join 
 us ; but, you see, on the condition that the Southern Confederacy 
 should be a slave-holding Confederacy.' " 
 
 " That bubble has burst with an explosion ! " exclaimed Alfy. 
 
 " True, the world heard it," answered Mr. Sterlingworth. " For 
 years, the Southern leaders have educated their families and the 
 masses up to a belief of these absurd falsehoods. The most malig- 
 nant reproach I remember to have seen flung at us Yankees was 
 in a paoer that Mr. Lambelle brought to me after one of his excur- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 761 
 
 sions South. It was in the Iron Furnace ; the speech of John H. 
 Augey, a Presbyterian clergyman of Mississippi." 
 
 Fanny brought the paper and he read, — 
 
 " The Yankees are an inferior race ; they are cowardly in the 
 extreme ; they are descended from the Puritan stock who never 
 bore rule in any nation. We, the descendants of the Cavaliers, 
 are the Patricians ; they, the Plebians. The Cavaliers have aUvays 
 been the rulers, the Puritans the ruled. The dastardly Yankees 
 will never fight us : but if they, in their presumption and audacity, 
 venture to attack us, let the war come. I repeat it, let it come. 
 The conflagration of their burning cities, the desolation of their 
 country, and the slaughter of their inhabitants, will strike the 
 nations of the earth dumb with astonishment, and serve as a warn- 
 ing to future ages, that the slave-holding Cavaliers of the Sunny 
 South are terrible in their vengeance. . . . We will drive back 
 to their inhospitable clime, every Yankee who dares to pollute our 
 shores with his cloven foot. Go he must, and if necessary, with 
 the bloodhounds on his tracks. The scum of Europe, and the 
 mud-sills of Yankeedom shall never be permitted to advance a step 
 south of thirty-six degrees, thirty minutes, the old Missouri Com- 
 promise line. South of that latitudeis ours, westward to the Pacific. 
 With my heart of hearts, / /lafe a Ya^ikce ; and I will make my 
 children swear eternal hatred to the whole Yankee race. 
 
 " In battle, one Southerner is equivalent to ten Northern hire- 
 lings. . . . We have free institutions — freedom for the white 
 man, bondage for the black man — as Nature and Nature's God 
 designed. The lines have fallen to us in pleasant places. The 
 only evil we complain of, is our bondage to the Yankees through 
 the Federal Union. Let us burst these shackles from our limbs, 
 and we will be free again." 
 
 " Well, the Yankees are here in their * pleasant places,' protected 
 by Federal bayonets, and they find their stay very agreeable," 
 laughed Alfy. *• What is the Rev. Mr. Augey going to do about 
 it ? " 
 
 " The religious offices of that clergyman would be a sjreat aid in 
 Cloudspire revivals," said Mr. Link. "Think so, Mrs. Sterling- 
 worth ? " 
 
 She replied, — 
 
762 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " On the subject of Yankees, Cloudspire might consider him a 
 fanatical innovater ; but his religion would be as available as Wil- 
 liam Steele's and Edmund Stone's." 
 
 Afra skipped in from the garden with her hands full ot roses, 
 which she distributed to all. 
 
 " Listen to that musical voice, crying blackberries, in the streets, 
 clear and rich as a prima donna's." 
 
 She rang for Abram, and bade him purchase and bring them 
 into the parlor, on a salver, for the company. She said to Mr. and 
 Mrs. Link,/ — 
 
 " You must go out this morning ; the city is pervaded with the 
 enchanting haze and balmy air I love so much. Go down to 
 White Point Garden; you must drink deep draughts of this deli- 
 cious climate before you return North. While you are all partak- 
 ing of berries I will sing and play 'Hail Columbia'as a close to this 
 morning's tctea-tetey 
 
 "Miss Afra," said Alfy, "can I peisuade you to extend our 
 musical enjoyment by singing us Gottschalk's ' Last Ilopi,' for the 
 Sunny South ; his ^ chant du Soldct for our 'Boys in Blue,' and 
 Thalberg's ' Home sweet Home,' for the ' Boys in Gray ? ' " 
 
 She consented, to the general gratification. After the music, she 
 said, — 
 
 '• I am going over to assist Addie and Corinne as usual. I shall 
 dine there, dear mother." 
 
 Alfy stood before his father and niother in full, manly beauty, 
 hat in hand. Cultivated intellect, contact with refined society and 
 the professional world, have recast the angelic sweetness of be- 
 loved boyhood into the mould of the self-poised, polished gentle- 
 man who is ^everywhere recognized with respectful regard. A 
 cooler, grayer tone has crept into the azure beneath his still mod-- 
 est lids. The flaxen hair has deepened into an auburn brown. 
 Brown, curling side-whiskers, and a heavy moustachelendssufficient 
 severity to the fair, expressive, and still tender face. A faultless 
 toilet finishes the tout ensanhle of his personal attractions. 
 
 "My best beloved," he said to Mary and Mr. Link, "I shall 
 spend the day out, dining and supping with Doctor Paisley. I 
 shall ride with the doctor this afternoon; but to-morrow I shall 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 763 
 
 ride with you, father. The officers of our acquaintance have 
 kindl}^ proffered the use of fine horses, while I remain here." 
 
 lie drew on his gloves, adding, — 
 
 *' Make yourselves as happy as possible. Mrs. Sterlingworth is 
 an excellent hostess. I leave you in her care." 
 
 Giving Afra his arm, they went out, leaving affectionate good- 
 mornings. 
 
 " Fanny, come here," requested Mary, who was leaning on the 
 balustrade of the piazza, following Alfy and Afra out of the gate 
 with her gaze. " Fanny, is not that a handsome pair? Do yoa 
 know what I have been thinking.? Since our arrival, I have 
 wished that the union of our two children might add one more tie 
 to the circle of tried friends in Cloudspire and Alderbank.'' 
 
 *' Afra is a singular child," replied Fanny, smiling. "I have 
 never discovered the first germ of love in her intercourse with 
 gentlemen. See, Mary! she is talking and looking up into Alfy's 
 face now, with the frankness of a sister. Love supposes shyness. 
 We have frequent calls from agreeable and fine looking young 
 officers, who probably are attracted by her music und the home 
 life they meet here. Afra makes no efforts to please or attract 
 beyond the bounds of politeness and her natural vivacity. I shall 
 be both satisfied and gratified if her choice falls on one so noble 
 and worthy as Alfy." 
 
 The days of Madam Valmonte and Corinne glided away with 
 much uniformity. Corinne was still patient, though tried by her 
 mother's umceasing invectives against the Yankees, who had 
 brought this cruel war upon the South, as well as by her constant 
 repinings at her losses and piivatious. She went out on pleasant 
 days, leaving Corinne to make up necessary clothing purchased 
 with the money accruing from the sales of her wardrobe, and other 
 articles of value. She had said to Corinne that moinino^, — 
 
 '• This is terrible ! I, who used to ride in my carriage every- 
 where, am walking about these streets like any low-bred sand- 
 hiller!" 
 
 Corinne had replied, — 
 
 " Dear mam.ma, all our ladies do the same, they experience the 
 same vicissitudes as we ; " and had received the answer, — 
 
764 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " Corinne, I cannot bear other people's troubles ; my own are 
 sufficient for me." 
 
 Corinne knew nothing of cutting or making. Addie, in her never- 
 failing kindness, said to her, — 
 
 " I will help you. My sewing-machine wall save your poor fin- 
 gers." 
 
 Afra gave her assistance, basting and planning for the ma- 
 chine. The work was carried to Addie's parlor, as often as Mis- 
 tress Valmonte went out. 
 
 Ignorant of all this, she has praised Corinne 's dexterity, and 
 said, — 
 
 *' Why, my child, you stitch beautifully, and you never made an 
 article before ! It is a relief to me, for I cannot frame my fingers 
 to the use of the needle and thimble." 
 
 When Alfy and Afra entered the parlor, Corinne was at her 
 work with Addie. She had frequently met Lawyer Euddington 
 there, since his arrival in Charleston, and w-hile he bowed low, 
 and lightly touched her hand on this occasion, her eyes took on an 
 unwonted lustre ; the faintest rose-petal tint spread over her cheek. 
 
 Afra was soon equipped for sewing, and set about it with energy, 
 petitioning that Mr. Buddington would read aloud a few poems of 
 Longfellow, to which he consented. As often as he raised his 
 eyes from the page, and by chance caught the soulful gaze of 
 Corinne, her lids dropped. 
 
 He was reading 'Evangeline,' often interrupted by the lively 
 criticisms of Afra. To the full mellifluous flow of Alfy's voice, 
 hers was like the sparkling, sun-lighted spray by the fountain. 
 
 Of Evangeline returnmg home after confesson, he read, — 
 
 " Homeward silently she walked, with God's benediction upon 
 her. When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite 
 musicy 
 
 " I declare," laughed Afra, addressing Corinne, " I think you 
 must have passed by the poet, for that picture ! " 
 
 " Too high a compliment for me. Miss Afra," she replied, raising 
 her head suddenly from her work. Her casual glance fell full into 
 the liquid depths of the eyes of the silent reader. Their melting 
 tenderness seemed to repeat the words of Afra. 
 
 "I am sure Afra is right," said Addie. "The poet must have 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. ' 765 
 
 had a vision of Corinne ! I always feel the sentiment of that line, 
 when she passes out of our parlor." 
 
 From very confusion, her glance wandered somewhere — any- 
 where, for modest concealment. Again it melted into the same 
 welcoming sweetness of Alfy's azure eyes, that again gave affirma- 
 tion to Addie's devotion ; and again, her glance fluttered away, 
 
 constrained and afraid. -j >-. • 
 
 " I beg Mr. Buddington will resume the reading, said Corinne. 
 "After a pleasant episode," he said, bowing, and continued 
 
 When the poem followed Evangeline over the prairie in search of 
 
 Gabriel, Afra said, — , . . 
 
 ■hould like to inquire of Mr. Longfellow if that is the way to 
 
 (( T 
 
 ' Make our lives sublime, 
 And departing, leave i)ehind us, 
 
 Footprints on the sands of time ? 
 Footprints that perhaps another 
 
 Sailing oe'r life's solemn main, — 
 A forlorn and shipwrecked (woman) — 
 
 Seeing, shall take heart again?' 
 
 « I call Evangeline a false and dangerous ideal, wandering away 
 a lifetime in search of a lover. Suppose, that emulating her solit- 
 ary crusade, ^// women and maidens should follow her example in 
 making footprints on the sands of time! The scene over the 
 United States would remind one, in multitude, of both the North- 
 ern and Southern armies let loose without discipline or command. 
 The government would find it expedient to erect a line of lunatic 
 asylums ; not along the lines, for there would be none ; they would 
 dot the soil from Maine to California ! " , -, 
 
 An outburst of laughter succeeded, in which Corinne heartily 
 loined All dried away comic tears at the ludicrous picture. ^ 
 
 " Indeed, Miss Afra," said Alfy, still laughing, " you have lumin- 
 cus ideas. This outburst is hygienic ; physically as well as mor- 
 ally ; quite auxiliar to a renewal of my health." 
 
 "Afra is a copy of her mother," said Addie. 
 
 "Thank you, Addie ; I wish no higher compliment. I think it 
 safer to. copy my mother, than the delusions of Evangeline. My 
 mother says Evangeline was superstitiously devotional in the first 
 place • and when Acadia was destroyed, her religious emotions 
 
766 " WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 broke bounds, and flooded the channels of her love nature; and 
 that her moon-struck wanderings were the effect of a romantic mix- 
 ture of both." 
 
 Alfy replied, that in poesy, *'the imagination is allowed to soar 
 into heroic and dizzy heights." 
 
 " I call that a great mistake," replied Afra. " A mental faculty 
 which is so apt to merge into impossibilities, should be held in 
 leash by those less erratic. How much n\ore exalted was the poet's 
 mission in 'The Quadroon Girl.' That poem thrills the soul, and 
 makes it responsive to the holiest sympathies. I think Evangeline 
 a dangerous and false ideal. Do you not agree with me, IMiss 
 Corinne .'* " 
 
 Corinne had risen, preparatory to leaving. It was near the din- 
 ner hour, and no persuasion could induce her to remain. In a 
 voice soft and mournful, as the Angelus, she replied to Afra's 
 question, — 
 
 " I have been educated to such false and dangerous ideals, that 
 my judgment may be dazed by their garish light ! I cannot see 
 truth clearly. Pardon me." 
 
 She turned to Alfy, who had arisen, and said politely, — 
 
 " I trust, Mr. Buddington, that your gallop through our quiet 
 suburbs and forests this afternoon will be pleasant and invigorating. 
 Strangers usually find our woodlands attractive." 
 
 He thanked her ; and as she passed out, ^^ it seemed like the ceas- 
 ing cf exquisite music y 
 
 When the afternoon grew cooler, Alfy and Issy mounted, and 
 rode away out of the city, among the ragged and desolate fields \ 
 they clattered over the broken plank road to the green shades of 
 the woodland, and turned their horses into long, dim, grassy paths, 
 beneath the arching trees, walking slowly, side by side. 
 
 Alfy with hat in hand, exclaimed, — 
 
 " I love these calm and quiet shades. There is 
 
 ' an eloquent voice in all. 
 The sylvan pomp of woods, the golden sun, 
 The flowers, the leaves, the river on its way. 
 Blue skies, and silver clouds. 
 
 In many a lazy syllable repeating 
 Their old poetic legends to the wind.' " 
 
WHITE I\IAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 767 
 
 " There is the river now," said Issy. " See that steely glinting 
 
 through the trees ! " , • i i, • 
 
 They reached a grassy, sunny glade, dismounted, tied their 
 horses, and threw themselves on the ground, upon the bank of the 
 gleaming Cooper. Let us not invade the privacy of that long ab- 
 sorbing communion of two endeared friends, who lie amid that 
 
 " sylvan scene. 
 Where, the long drooping boughs between, 
 Shaclo\YS dark, and sunlight sheen 
 Alternate come and go." 
 
 The subject must have been of deep interest; for the face of 
 Alfy alternately saddened, or grew seraphic ; it paled, or bright- 
 ened. Often in earnest enunciation, he abstractedly pulled the 
 green blades about him, and cast them away ; then silent as if in 
 a dream, or beholding a vision, he lay with his arms under his 
 head, ever devotedly watched by the anxious face of Issy, reclining 
 by his side. The final words were uttered by him, as they rose to 
 
 mount ! ,11 
 
 " Alfy, I am not surprised ! I believe I have not exalted your 
 
 fondest hopes in vain." 
 
 The horses walked again through the delicious shades to the 
 main road, and across it into a labyrinth of delight towards the 
 
 Ashley. 
 
 " Hark ! " said Alfy, laying his hand on Issy s rein. 
 
 A powerful voice rose 'clear as a silver bugle, in the distant soli- 
 tude, swelling and diminishing Hke the flute stop of an organ. 
 For five minutes its fascination pierced the woodland ; during 
 which time neither spoke. ^^ 
 
 •' That one voice was worth coming to South Carolina to hear ! 
 said Alfy, taking his hand from Issy's rein. 
 
 He replied, — 
 
 " It is my turn at poetry, this time ; " and in his own rich voice 
 repeated a part of Longfellow's 
 
 " SLAVE SINGING AT MIDNIGHT." 
 
 •' Loud he sang the song of David ! 
 He, a negro, and enslaved ; 
 Sang of Israel's victory. 
 Sang of Zion, bright and free. 
 
768 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 * m * * * 
 
 Sang he from the Hebrew Psalmist, 
 In a voice so sweet and clear, 
 That I could not choose but hear 
 
 Songs of triumph and ascriptions. 
 Such as reached the swart Egyptians 
 AVhen upon the Red Sea coast, 
 Perished Pharoah and his host." 
 
 " Those lines are a fitting echo to that never-to-be-forgotten 
 voice," said Alfy. "It was a voice of freedom ! doubtless caroling 
 the wondrous joy that burdens his liberated spirit. A panorama 
 of moral grandeur surrounds. the visitor of this South — this deso- 
 late arena of men's worst passions and crimes." 
 
 " True, Alfy, it lifts the pure soul to a sublime faith in the 
 sure advance of Right, that shall triumphantly override all wrong. 
 Shall we find the Ashley? Let us make the endeavor." 
 
 They cantered away through the shadows on the muffled sod. 
 
 Afra left Addie, after dinner. Corinne remained in her 
 chamber. 
 
 At dusk, a friend of Mistress Valmonte called, and together 
 they went out to an evening service of the church. Then Addie 
 stole up to Corinne, closed the door, and drew a chair near her, 
 saying, — 
 
 " I have a message for you from Mr. Buddington. He begs you 
 to grant him an interview this evening." 
 
 Corinne, in profound agitation drew her breath quickly, but 
 made no reply. 
 
 Addie said further, — 
 
 " Lawyer Buddington adores you. He will be unhappy till he 
 meets you, dear Corinne. You are his first and only love. No 
 other attractions have moved him, although they have fluttered 
 about as thickly as swallows in summer. I am sure your natural 
 politeness and regard for others will not allow you to refuse the 
 request. Issy bade me tell you to seek your own happiness. It is 
 a duty you owe yourself." 
 
 Corinne held her handkerchief to her eyes with trembling fin- 
 gers, and said weeping, to Addie, — 
 
 " Mamma ! oh, Addie, mamma I " 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 7^9 
 
 " Follow the promptings of your own noble heart in the matter, 
 my dear girl ; they will guide you safely. Alfy has been here 
 three weeks now j you know his antecedents. He is no adven- 
 turer I am going to walk with Issy, and dear old father is 
 watching my children in bed. They are his pride. Shall you go 
 
 down ? " 
 
 " I shall grant Mr. Buddington's request.' 
 
 Addie poured water for Corinne to bathe her burning face, 
 brushed her hair, and they descended together 
 
 Corinne entered the parlor alone. 
 
 At the door, Alfy took her hand and led her respectfully to a 
 seat. The interview could not be prolonged, and on the part of 
 Alfy, it was manly, frank, and tender. 
 
 We will not intrude upon the sacredness of that swift-winged 
 
 hour. , , ^ . 1-1 
 
 At its close, the trembling lover held Corinne to his heart, 
 and left upon her fair, pure brow his first kiss — the kiss of 
 
 bethrothal. . r i ^ c 
 
 Mrs Valmonte made many complaints after her return, ot 
 Corinne 's abstraction and stupidity; asserting with petulance that 
 she did not hear remarks or requests, assigning oversleep during 
 her absence as the cause. • tvt t • i a 
 
 Alfy met the liveliest congratulations from Mary, Mr. Link and 
 Fanny upon his improved appearance. 
 
 ''You must ride every day,;' said Mrs. Sterlingworth. Your 
 color and animation are returning." 
 
 *' We had an invitation to Fort Sumter and accepted. VVe are 
 all wearv and should seek an early hour for retiring," said Mary. 
 
 Alfy followed Mr. Link into his mother's chamber, and there re- 
 vealed the day's events. , u j 
 
 « I am too happy to sleep now," he said, " as I was too wretched 
 
 before " 
 
 " So you are to take a Southern bride, Alfy. I am so astounded 
 
 that I can scarcely find words to wish you joy, said Mary ; but i 
 
 am sure she must be pure and lovely or she could not be your 
 
 choice." , 1 4-u^4. 
 
 "My dear mother, I am confident you want to be assured that 
 
 the wishes of my own heart are gratified — you would wisn my mar- 
 
77^ WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 riage happy. Madame Lambelle has ever been my standard from 
 boyhood. Mv dear Corinne is Zaffiri's counterpart. You will 
 love her both of you, not only for my sake, but for her own." 
 
 " Alfy," said Mr. Link in his gentlest voice, "you are very dear 
 to me. I shall endeavor to further all your desires whenever you 
 choose to make them known. The one you love, I shall love ; the 
 one you honor, I will honor. I rejoice in your happiness." 
 
 Mary, recovering herself, kissed his pleading face, smoothed his 
 brown hair, saying, — 
 
 " Get those blue eyes bright again, my proud boy. I will love 
 dear Corinne ; I love her already, because she loves you. When 
 will you bring her to us ? " 
 
 *' To-morrow, mother." 
 
 Corinne, who slept little during the night, did not confide her 
 happy secret to her mother through fear of maternal displeasure. 
 In the morning, under the pretense of exercise, she made an early 
 call on an intimate friend of her mother, who had returned to the 
 city and occupied apartments alone. Like Evangeline, this woman 
 had learned from a life of sorrow, "patience and abnegation of 
 self, and devotion to others." She listened to Corinne* s confiden- 
 tial explanation of her fears and joys with the calm beneficence of 
 a Sister of Mercy, and then said, — 
 
 "My dear, trembling girl have no more dread. You are doing 
 right. The most beautiful thing I know is the pure, trusting love 
 of the human heart. I am going to soften your mother, hard and 
 irreconcilable as she is." 
 
 " Oh ! I love mamma ! my proud mamma !" said Corinne, weep- 
 ing. '• I could do anything for her ; submit to all her caprices — 
 anything, but to give up my dear, noble, handsome Alfred. My 
 love for him, pure, white, and celestial, I could not overcome if I 
 would." 
 
 "And you should not, if you could, dear girl. When and where 
 will your marriage take place ? " 
 
 "The day he and his parents leave Charleston. I do not know 
 where — dear Alfred has not said. He has a difficult case to 
 plead in Boston the first week in July. I shall pass that week 
 there ; then we shall pass two weeks at his father's in Cioudspire, 
 Massachusetts ; then leave for a six months tour in Europe." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 77 1 
 
 " How much time before Mr. Buddington leaves Charleston ?" 
 
 " Twelve days. I must inform mamma this morning. I do not 
 feel that I have strength enough to withstand the grief and recrimi- 
 nations." 
 
 "Never mind, Corinne. I will go directly to your mother's 
 room. Walk a little and compose yourself. I will be present. 
 Nowyou must have all your time to go out and come in at your 
 pleasure, with your lover, and to arrange your trousseau. Theresa 
 will never be present at the ceremony wherever it may be. Do not 
 allow that to trouble you. Time will change all. After your mar- 
 riage, I will persuade her to occupy my rooms with me. I think 
 she will do so readily. Is that any relief to your harrassed 
 thoughts, my dear lamb ? " 
 
 " Oh ! I cannot express how much." 
 
 " You are not going to continue in mourning, of course ? You 
 have worn it three years for Ernestin and two for Doctor Paisley. 
 You must make yourself as attractive as possible, by putting on 
 colors from your marriage, at least." 
 
 " I cannot take one cent from mamma's scant funds." 
 
 "Mr. Buddington and his friends will look after that. I know 
 these Northern people ; they are not hard ; they have generous, 
 feeling hearts. I have lived much among them. Trust in them, 
 dear Corinne; your faith will not be misplaced." 
 
 '"What a strong comforter you are!" ejaculated the frightened 
 girl, at the same time kissing her friend's sweet, dispassionate face. 
 
 " You have another comforter in that nice little body, Issy's 
 wife," said the lady ; " she will help you through." 
 
 She left the room a moment, and returned with a box carefully 
 secured, which she placed in Corinne *s hands, saying, — 
 
 " That is yours. I can make no better disposal of it." 
 
 She opened it, and saw within an elegant parure oi costly pearls. 
 
 " Examine them dearie ; they are yours, for your marriage. I 
 have long ago bid adieu to those trifles. They will suit your fair 
 brow, neck, and arms. I paid two thousand dollars for them in 
 Paris ; you know their value ; they shonld belong to a daughter of 
 the South. No ? Offer no objections, dearie. I have money 
 in store in New York, where I had the wisdom to deposit it before 
 this mad war, which I knew would be disastrous to the South." 
 
772 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 The twelve days passed away more happily to Corinne than she 
 could have imagined. The devotion of Mr. Link and Mary to her- 
 self and Alfy was incomparably soothing to her tempest-tossed 
 spirit. There was unlimited welcome and generosity on the part 
 of the Sterlingworths. There were cheerful teas, dinners, and 
 moonlight walks. Corinne, without sliyness or restraint, mani- 
 fested her deep attachment for Alfred ; and he, proud and happy, 
 could scarcely allow her to depart from his sight. 
 
 Issy insisted upon presenting the bridal dress, which Corinne 
 resolved should be of the simplest, unadotned, white muslin. 
 Addie presented the veil and orange flotvers. 
 
 Addie's parlor was in delightful confusion, between the dress- 
 maker and herself, and the making over of the rich dresses, se- 
 lected from .the buried trunks. A dress-maker and seamstress 
 worked daily in Mary's room, at Mr. Sterlingworth's. Afra also, 
 had important errands bet\veen the two families. Corinne 's fin- 
 gers soon regained their accustomed celerity on the piano, and al- 
 ternately with Afra, the house was charmed with the perfection of 
 musical taste and execution. 
 
 Alfy had sent two polite messages to Mistress Valmonte, express- 
 ing his desire to converse with her, that she might be assured of 
 his affectionata regard and of his desire to alleviate her present 
 burdens, by making a home for her in Boston with Corinne. She 
 read and threw the notes into the flames, with indignant scorn ! 
 She washed and perfumed her hands with cologne, to remove the 
 Yankee taint of the notes, disdaining any reply. 
 
 A singular attachment took root in Corinne 's heart for Mr. 
 Link. She loved his mild, unobtrusive v;ays, and saw beneath the 
 pleasant exterior a true and knightly gentleman. She called Alfy 
 her "handsome Cavalier," and Afra, her "/^///^Abolitionist." She 
 made Mary her confessor and counsellor, taking no step without 
 her consultation. She said to her, — 
 
 "You are too kind to show a preference; but can you love me, a 
 Southerner, when I am Alfred's wife } " 
 
 " How can I help loving you now, my darling daughter, in your 
 winning character of peacemaker, and for the proud love you 
 bear my noble Alfy ? " 
 
 She begged Mr. and Mrs. Sterlingworth to receive her mediator 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 773 
 
 with her mother, to their acquaintance, and went to her mamma, 
 while her friend passed an afternoon and evening with Fanny and 
 Mary. 
 
 One important arrangement was made during the twelve days, 
 by the solicitations of Alfred and Corinne. Afra was to accom- 
 pany them to Europe. Corinne said, — 
 
 " I need her companionship and her lucid moral teachings ; she 
 is a guide to my obliquity of vision. Afra will help me to distin-. 
 guish the true from the false." 
 
 " We cannot yield to that reasoning," replied Fanny. " On the 
 contrary, I should be most happy to place Afra under your influ- 
 ence, Corinne. She needs travel ; and if you will not allow her 
 to be an obstacle to your bridal pleasures I shall most gladly con- 
 sent." 
 
 The auspicious morning dawned with a benediction on the day 
 of Alfy's union with his Southern bride. Fanny's parlors and halls 
 were an elysium of flowers and fragrance. Afra^s chamber was 
 made the secret vestibule of Hymen, to which Corinne even, was 
 not admitted till she entered with her former dressing-maid, who 
 had offered her services for the occasion. 
 
 When Corinne asked for her plain muslin dress, Afra and Addie 
 uncovered to her astonished sight a rich pearl-white satin, pur- 
 chased and made in New York, and finished with costly lace. Be- 
 side it were the bridal veil from Stewart's and orange flowers from 
 the North. 
 
 " Read that paper, dear Corinne, on the dress," cried Afra, 
 dancing about the room in a delirium of delight. 
 
 In silent surprise she took up the slip, and read, — 
 
 " From Uncle Issy, who could not see his proud Corinne ar- 
 rayed in humiliating cheapness ! " 
 
 Corinne stepped aside from the glossy splendor, and for a few 
 moments indulged in happy, grateful tears. While this scene was 
 passing in Afra's dressing-room, Mr. Link found time to say to 
 Fanny, — 
 
 " Is it not strange that the plain old * drover ' should have such 
 an accomplished son and daughter?" 
 
 " It is precisely what you deserve, Simon Link. They are your 
 just reward for the consolation you gave Richard and me, in that 
 
774 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Cloudspire church mob ; when ymt, of all the town, carried us 
 home in your sleigh, thus bringing upon your own head social and 
 religious disaster. When that town beholds Alfy and Corinne, 
 its scorn and meanness will change to envy, and servile adula- 
 tion ! " 
 
 As the hour approached, the parlors filled with Northern friends 
 and dashing uniforms. Henry Hughes had offered to serve the 
 company with Abram, but Addie said, — 
 
 " No, my poor trampled father, you will never serve more ! I 
 shall assist at waiting, in your stead." 
 
 So, with Issy, he took his honored place among the guests. 
 
 When Mr. Link entered the grand saloon with the elegant Co- 
 rinne on his arm, followed by Alfred with Mary, all attended by a 
 bright uniformed young Northern officer and Afra, as groomsrnan 
 and bridesmaid, a buzz and rustle of admiration succeeded. The 
 clergyman in sacred robes awaited them. The formula of mar- 
 riage was soon spoken. When Alfy placed the golden seal of their 
 covenant upon the trembling hand of his best beloved, a glittering 
 tear of filial sorrow fell upon the plain circlet, in memory of the 
 unhappy and obdurate Theresa. 
 
 Corinne raised her eyes, met the saintly face of her mediator, 
 and regained composure. 
 
 After an hour of congratulations, feasting, and good wishes, 
 Corinne prepared to take her mother's farewell. By the assistance 
 of her dressing-maid, she was soon arrayed in a rich and fashion- 
 able traveling-suit, sent from New York with the satin toilet, and 
 the compliments of Pearl Z. C. Lambelle. With Alfy by her side, 
 yix. John's rebel carriage soon conveyed her to the abode of Mis- 
 tress Valmonte. Alone Corinne ascended to her mother's cham- 
 ber. At the close of the interview of torturing frigidity on the 
 part of Theresa, Corinne advanced, and in a voice choking with 
 affection, said, — 
 
 " Kiss me, mamma." 
 
 " She received for a reply, — 
 
 " I cannot kiss lips yet warm with the kisses of Yankee vul- 
 garity." 
 
 Coiuine drew off her glove, and extended her hand. She heard 
 the heartless words, — 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 775 
 
 " Draw on your gloves, my child, before I take the hand that re- 
 ceives the • pressure of love and friendship from a Northern 
 enemy ! " 
 
 Corinne obeyed, and pressed the maternal hand in a long and 
 
 tearful farewell. 
 
 Captain Thad and his wild-rose wife from the " Green Valley," 
 met the bridal party at Madame Lambelle's, for a hasty welcome, 
 and au rezm'r, on his brother's departure for Boston. He afterwards 
 escorted his parents and Afra to Cloudspire. 
 
 May left a few days previous to the arrival, for Indiana, with 
 Papa Dentelle, to attend the bedside of her dying Papa Bloome.^ 
 
 In conformity with the New England custom, Mr. Link'a family 
 rose early. On the second nwrning after the arrival of Alfy and 
 his bride from Boston, while the dew sparkled on the grass, and 
 the roads were yet damp and hard from the night's shower. Mary, 
 with an arm about Corinne, drew her out upon the piazza. There, 
 on the broad-graveled walk, stood the former fugitive, Robert 
 Adams, now the hired help of Mr. Link, holding two saddled 
 
 horses. 
 
 One, tiie smaller, was a pure cream, with snow-white mane and 
 tail, handsomely equipped for a lady. The other was a dark chest- 
 nut, equipped for a gentleman's pleasure. He was rearing, and 
 champing his silver bit, with proud impatience. Uncle George and 
 Mr. Link and Captain Thad, in rustic chairs, were sitting calmly 
 by. Alfy came out ; and round the corner of the house peeped 
 Robert's wife from the kitchen. 
 
 "How splendid those creatures are ! " cried Corinne, running 
 down the steps to fondle the "cream." 
 
 " Marse Alfy, how you like dis ? " said Robert. 
 
 Mr. Link and Squire Buddington came down on the vyalk, 
 where the ceremony of presentation took place, of the " Snow 
 Bird" to Corinne, by Mr. Link; and the " General Grant " to Alfy, 
 by Uncle George. After a few moments spent in the happiness of 
 giving and receiving. Uncle George said, — • 
 
 " The sun is getting high ; mount and explore the picturesque 
 beauties cf Cloudspire. Forget law, books, and sorrows." 
 
 Mary, observing the perplexed hesitation of Alfy and Corinne, 
 said, — 
 
776 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " Come, my daughter, dress yourself for riding." 
 
 Before she could make a proper reply they were in her chamber. 
 
 " There is your riding-habil, my darling," said Mar}^ " It was 
 purchased for you in New York, where Mr. Link procured your 
 pony. This is my gift. Do not say a word. You have made my 
 Alfy happy. You have rounded his pure life into fullness and per-, 
 fection. What shall we not do for you ? " 
 
 While Corinne was adjusting her beaver and veil, at the mirror, 
 Mary continued, — 
 
 " Do not fear for your pony ; he is spirited, but docile. He has 
 Arabian blood. Papa Link purchased him from an Englishman, 
 about to return with his family to London." 
 
 Cloudspire gossip sprang into fresh vigor during that two weeks. 
 Culinary processes were evidently bewitched by " Snow Bird " and 
 " General Grant." The bakings came out from the over-heated 
 stoves, hooded with black cowls. Saucepans boiled over and sput- 
 tered spitefully to thtmselves, and the tidy cream pans got into 
 slovenly manners — all for the daily sight of four pairs of gay, 
 clattering hoofs and a flying riding-habit darting swiftly by. 
 
 "I declare," said common tattle, with envious volubility, "them 
 abolitionists have more Southerners and niggers round 'em than 
 anybody else in town. There's that black Robert, and his wife for 
 a cook, at the Drovier's ; there's Robert's two girls over to ' Green 
 Valley'; there's Hester, to Squire Buddington's, and Binah and 
 Roland, to the doctor's. Them Beames used to have Henry 
 Huglies' girl. Well, I wouldn't eat bread and pies that their black 
 hands wet up, if I dropped down at the molding-board, myself. 
 They've most all been down South; and I shouldn't wonder if 
 George Buddington went next." 
 
 Afra, meantime, assisted by Filette's two daughters and Aunt 
 Lucy, was ready for the prospective tour abroad. Cloudspire was 
 left to its usual quiescence; its front blinds were closed, itsfront 
 curtains lowered, and domestic assiduity reinstated. 
 
 During the summer, at one of the prayer-meetings, a strange pro- 
 gramme for a gathering of the citizens of Cloudspire was read. 
 This gathering was to be addressed by an escaped prisoner from 
 Andersonville, Georgia, and also by a slave from the South. Pub- 
 lic curio.sity was on the qui vive to hear the stories of both. A 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 777 
 
 change had come over the spirit of the North. The new church 
 which had supplanted the one of William Steele's fame, was filled 
 with anxious listeners. The old slave was escorted up the car- 
 peted aisle by a prominent church official, and seated within the 
 railing of the chancel, by the side of the United States soldier. 
 Richard Beame was in one of the slips, reflecting upon the change 
 in the facial expression of the assembly. He observed that the 
 former ferocity of its mobbing expression had settled into some- 
 thing like sympathy for the two speakers before them. The soldier 
 rose first, and spoke upon the rebel prisons South, for Northern 
 men, during the war. 
 
 His own emaciated form, his sunken eyes, the staff upon which 
 he leaned, and the hollow voice, were swift witnesses of the tor- 
 tures he related. He told of thirty thousand men, confined in 
 unhealthy, unwholesome quarters, in a close and small area of 
 ground, inadequate to their wants, and destructive to their health. 
 He told of the malicious neglect to furnish tents, barracks, or other 
 shelter, sufficient for their protection from the inclemency of winter, 
 and the dews and burning sun of summer ; of the robbery of their 
 clothing and blankets, and other articles, by the Confederates j of 
 their being compelled to subsist upon unwholesome water, reeking 
 with the filth and garbage of the prison and prison-yard ; of minds 
 impaired, and intellects broken by these cruelties ; of the bodies 
 of the dead, permitted to remain among the emaciated, sick, and 
 languishing living, until these bodies became corrupt and loath- 
 some, and filled the air with fetid and noxious exhalations ! He 
 told of the dead /me, to which, if the prisoners approached too near 
 by accident, or necessity, they were shot down, as if for a pastime ! 
 He told of the deaths of ten men in Andersonville prison^ from the 
 town of Cloudspire. 
 
 " I was chained," he said, " in a gang, for a week. We were 
 chained together by the neck, and feet ; each wore a ball weighing 
 thirty-two pounds. One of your townsmen fell dead in that gang ! 
 Lem Hamm attempted to escape, but he was tor7i in pieces by a 
 bloodhound ! I have seen men hobbling half naked, on crutches, 
 begging for bones. I have seen them crawling on the filthy earth, 
 carrying their tin cups in their mouths, because they could carry 
 them in no other way ! I have seen them die so. Mr. Lappin's 
 
JjS WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 oldest son was shot by the guard, vvhirt- extending one arm under 
 the dead line for a crumb of mouldy bread. His youngest 
 son died of starvation, and reamputation of gangrened wounds. 
 At one time, names were called for removal ; and orders were 
 given the rebel guard to bayonet any Yankee who laid down in the 
 way ! Deacon Steele's grandson was one of the number to be 
 removed to another prison. This fine young fellow had been vac- 
 cinated with poisonous matter, and was covered with sores, as the 
 result. He was also unable to walk, from sickness and starvation. 
 lie was crawlmg on the groimd to the cars, because he could not 
 stand j and was bayoneted and killed, according to orders ! " 
 
 The audience in the church was in tears. Sobbing interrupted 
 the speaker. 
 
 At length one man rose and asked, what were the rations ? The 
 reply was, — 
 
 ''Two ounces of meat, one small potato, and a half-cooked piece 
 of corn-cake, two and a-half inches square ! I have seen our skel- 
 eton men digging in the vermin and dirt for potato-skins, and other 
 refuse, to eat. Sometimes our coarse meal, ground cob and all, 
 was given us raw ; and they would not- allow us wood to cook it, 
 although forests were near at hand." 
 
 Another questioner arose in his slip, seeking information of the 
 deaths of Cloudspire's remaining victims at Andcrsonville. 
 
 The soldier leaned more heavily upon his stall, and in a voice 
 more husky, replied, — 
 
 " My friends, I do not deem it proper to make further revelations 
 to an assembly of ladies, youth and gentlemen. The horrible, 
 blood-chilling truth cannot be further refeted here. Already your 
 hearts are aching, tears are flowing, and sobs interrupt me. At 
 private calls from any man of this town, I will use my remaming 
 strength in detailing cruelties and murderous outrages that your 
 hearts never dreamed of. 
 
 " It was the design of the Confederacy to torture and destroy 
 us. Henry Wirz, our Southern keeper, said he killed more Yan- 
 kees than the rebel army that served at the front. That was not 
 enough. General Winder, distinguished for greater heartlessness, 
 and love of murder, was appointed by Jetf Davis, to the supervi- 
 sion of prisons. He said, — 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 779 
 
 " ' Every — Yankee sympathizer, and — Yankee, ought to sink 
 into — .' 
 
 " I have but few more remarks to make. We of the North have 
 suffered, and died nominally, for the Uuion. That Union is 
 restored, but on a different basis. If it had been restored intact, 
 as before the war, I should prefer Disunion. I am a member of 
 this church, and according to its doctrines, the Almighty Ruler of 
 events, that God of wrath and punishments, has been Commander- 
 in-Chief of these four bloody years. He has led your sons, fathers, 
 and brothers to death, and the prison, that He might wrest from 
 this Nation the Freedom for four millions of slaves, which it re- 
 fused peacefully to yield. If He has been an avenging God, He 
 maintains that character still, for I have been taught in this house 
 that he never changes. I pray you, therefore, guard well this 
 jewel of Liberty, so dearly purchased. That Jesus who healed the 
 blind, has anointed your eyes with the clay of beloved graves. 
 The clay of six hundred thousand graves should be enough to 
 restore sight to the whole North. I beseech you to use this sa- 
 cred ointment for the years to come. Do not forget your dead, or 
 wholly trust the South. A people which has been educated to 
 murder, maiming, and every form of barbarity for two hundred 
 years, cannot unlearn crime in four years. Once more I beseech 
 you, do not forget the graves of your dead ! 
 
 " I give way to another Southern sufferer, sitting in this chancel. 
 In listening to him, you cannot relax interest or sympathy, for the 
 history of a slave is often the parellel of mine, as affected by 
 Southern barbarism." 
 
 The old slave rose slowly, and bowing to the people, said, — 
 
 "Ladies and gentleman of Cloudspire, the testimony^ which I 
 have to bear to you to-night may be offensive." 
 
 Cries of " No ! no ! no ! " 
 
 "I was not born a slave. By chance I was thrown into the 
 power of slave-holders, and was sold into bondage. I lived in the 
 North, was a poor and honest man, free from crime or evil habits. 
 The North despised color, and oppressed all her colored citizens, 
 both in social treatment and wages. I could not earn enousrh in 
 the town where my little hat was allowed, to support my wife 
 and children, and to clothe myself. I could not attend church in 
 
7 So WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 that town without suffering scorn and mockery. I could not seek 
 the salvation of my soul at the same altar with the whites, in a 
 revival." 
 
 Cries of " Shame! shame!" 
 
 " So being ragged, hungry, and cast out, I thought to escape 
 from the snares laid for our feet; and in so doing, I fell into the 
 snares of the South. I have been a slave for many years. I have . 
 felt the black whip on my naked flesh, but finally I fell into gentler 
 hands. I have seen cruelties and horrors that would wring a hu- 
 mane heart. 1 was freed by Sherman's army ; and since, I have 
 found my little children grown to honorable manhood and woman- 
 hood, through the kind watchfulness of friends to the colored race. 
 They are called abolitionists. My poor wife died in poverty, and 
 wretchedness." 
 
 He paused — wiped his eyes and asked if he should proceed ? 
 
 *' Go on," was unanimous ; and a request was made for the name 
 of the State and town — his former home. 
 
 " The State was Maesachusetts, and the name of the town was 
 Cloudspire. My name is flenry Hughes." 
 
 Consternation seized the audience. Confusion reigned. He 
 still stood. As it seemed evident that old June had further commu- 
 nication to make, a hush prevailed. 
 
 " My wife, Susan Hughes," he continued, " sleeps in a neglected 
 corner of your old cemetery. I have come to drop my tears over 
 her cruel grave, and also to lay bare to your view, my friends, a 
 hidden sin which this church still fosters." 
 
 Breathless attention followed. 
 
 " Doubtless the older and middle aged, remember William 
 Steele, an assistant in the great revival, many years ago. The beau- 
 tiful silver baptismal font, overlooked by three angels, in use now, 
 and the Steele Bible, which I now see on the sacred desk, are the 
 price of blood ! William Steele sold his own child, of two or three 
 years, to a slave-trader in the dark hours of night, in South Caro- 
 lina, and gave her guilty price to the Lord. The child's name was 
 Lillian. Deacon Steele, whose white locks and shaking head I see 
 before me, will testify to the truth of my w^ords. He knows that 
 history which w^as related to him in his parlor on the first winter 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 78 1 
 
 night of his brother's visit. Be calm, my friends, a few moments 
 and I will not embarrass you farther. 
 
 " Against such a religion I hear my testimony. The worship of 
 our Savior does not require such bloody sacrifice. I hereby, on 
 this altar, shake off the dust of my hunted feet, against the religion 
 of this church, and bid ^^om farewell." 
 
 While uttering the last words, he extended both hands over the 
 congregation, bowed, and passed down the aisle. 
 
 Richard Beame came out from his slip, took the arm of Henry 
 Hughes in his own. They went out alone under the starry sky. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 AFTER the departure of Afra with Corinne, Fanny took upon 
 herself the burden she so ardently desired to assume in her 
 girlhood's prime — a missionary life. 
 
 '• Thanks to my dear, sainted mother," she said, " I know how to 
 fulfill my mission now. I have learned the sin of withholding per- 
 sonal sympathy and comfort, and the crime of substituting in its 
 merciful stead a few Sabbath hours in teaching this crushed people 
 to wait for fraternal recognition, till they shall have passed beyond 
 the bounds of time." 
 
 " You are right, Fanny," replied her husband. " These freedj 
 men have been literally crammed with this hypocritical, tyrannical 
 religion, thoroughly leavened with the curse of Canaan. The equiv- 
 alent for the cruelty, scorn, and contempt of American Christianity 
 towards the African race, was represented by the churches as await- 
 ing them in Heaven. That theory left earth as the favored arena 
 of the worst passions of men. That theory still exists. This city is 
 full of so called religious guides of all shades of creed and com- 
 plexion, who herd these still distrusted and despised ones to a salu- 
 tary fear of Hell, which act is considered promotive of public 
 safety, and to an exalted hope for the no-respecter-of-persons equal- 
 ity in another world, which act renews the earthly lease of con- 
 tinued and oppressive caste of color. Go, Fanny, out into the 
 
782 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 highways and byways, into the hovels and hungr}' kitchens, with 
 your heart full of love and sympathy. Follow the promptings of 
 your untrammeled conscience and the example of our Christ. 
 Weep with those whc weep, and rejoice with those who rejoice. As 
 far as is in your power, feed the hungry and clothe the naked. 
 Thus, at least, will your rare devotion to the victims of oppression 
 find its legitimate expression." 
 
 So Mrs. Sterlingworth went about her calling. One of the hand- 
 some rooms of Chancellor Mowndes mansion was piled with chari- 
 table stores, which had drifted into her hands from various 
 Northern sources. She set about their distribution. She accosted 
 the old maumas and aunties in the streets, ascertained their destitu- 
 tion, and visited their homes. Her name was repeated to others 
 in like need, and many of her hours were occupied in listening to, 
 and serving her multiplied calls. 
 
 Fanny's missionary life led to the discovery of several characters, 
 which will elucidate the closing histories of these chapters. One 
 morning, she found herself following an infirm, shuffling woman 
 leaning upon a cane, and carrying a nearly empty basket. Her 
 dress was of the coarest osnaburg; the color used in dyeing, had 
 settled in darker patches over the lighter, faded slate ground. 
 Her turban was of the same material. Fanny stepped to her side, 
 with a pleasant " Good morning, auntie," and asked her name. 
 
 A broken voice replied, — 
 
 " Cleo, Missis." 
 
 " Have you no other name, auntie ? " 
 
 " Cleopatra Ashland, missis." 
 
 " Vou seem to be suffering from weakness ; have you no relatives 
 to care for you ? " 
 
 " No, missis ; I suffer greatly in this war. Master Ashland went 
 'way four years ago, and I never see him since." 
 
 " Where have you been this morning ? " 
 
 " To the market to beg a bone, missis. I 'bleeged to beg. I 
 have no money, and cannot work now. I was not raised in 
 Charleston." 
 
 Fanny accompanied Cleo's tottering steps to a kitchen which 
 chanced to be located near her own residence, entered and learned 
 that starvation stood at the door ; learned that the feeble woman 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 783 
 
 was the former slave, inmate and mistress of " Nightingale Hall." 
 She had the pleasure of daily supplying Cleo's wants from her own 
 table, of supplyiog strengthening restoratives, aud finally of secur- 
 ing a free passage for her back to the islands, to the protection of 
 the teachers and her son Dan. 
 
 A call at Fanny's kitchen, later in the season, may be of interest. 
 Obeying the summons of Abram, she found awaiting her a digni- 
 fied, reticent quadroon, past middle age, who asked for clothing to 
 protect her from the increasing cold. At a glance, Fanny read 
 that the inroads of grief, as well as hardship, had marred the 
 beauty which still lingered in her clear black eye and in the gray 
 curl that strayed from under her worn turban. A silent, touching 
 despair marked her manner, in place of the docile humility which 
 distinguished other applicants. She seemed reluctant to answer 
 questions except those concerning her immediate wants. 
 
 '* Trus' the lady, Charlotte," said Fanny's cook. " Missis be all 
 our frien' ; tell missis all ; she help you." 
 
 "Come up stairs, Charlotte," said Fanny; "sit down with me 
 and rest you. The clothing is at hand, there." 
 
 The cook made an impatient motion for her to go, which she 
 
 obeyed. 
 
 " Cook, make a cup of strong tea," said Fanny, " and send it up 
 by Abram with something eatable." 
 
 'Charlotte's dress was the faded remnants of better days ; from 
 the affliction of rheumatism, she leaned upon a cane, and on one 
 foot wore a large ragged moccasin. She took the velvet arm-chair, 
 by Fanny's solicitation, and, softened by her unexpected sympathy, 
 unbosomed the sad history of her slave-life. 
 
 This was Colonel Haywood's Charlotte. Two years previously 
 he sold her in Charleston. She was put into the kitchen as washer 
 and ironer, and was compelled to do heavy tasks. Accustomed to 
 indulgence and the sheltered life of lady's-maid, she sank under the 
 severe and incessant toil. Her hands became deformed, painful 
 and nearly useless. Her two sons — the sons of Colonel Haywood 
 — were taken early into the war and had never returned. Her 
 daughter, fairer than herself, was sold away to Texas in her attract- 
 ive girlhood. 
 
 While relating this, the proud, despairing eyes melted to tears. 
 
784 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Sterli no: worth ! *' she cried, " I am a woman like you. 
 I suffer like any other. I have a heart and affections like Gracie 
 Mowndes. This South is filled with just such wrecks as I am. 
 Can this war atone for the colored woman's wrongs ? With free- 
 dom will she receive justice and respect.'' " 
 
 " The blood shed by the North and South should expiate much, 
 my poor Charlotte ; but wo7jian^ of any color, will be the last to be 
 benefitted by society or statutes. My heart bleeds for you, and the 
 multitudes who have suffered like you." 
 
 Abram entered with the tea and a relishing lunch. Fanny set 
 a small table by Charlotte, and poured her tea with the kindness of 
 a sister. The rigid coldness of the stricken woman relaxed, and 
 once more her manner warmed towards a white face. 
 
 Fanny visited Charlotte's room often, supplying her hearth with 
 wood and her table with comforts. Later in winter, the owners of 
 the house returning, warned her to leave the chamber. By the 
 kindness of Northern friends, an " Old Folk's Home " had been 
 established, and was supplied by the government. Charlotte had 
 no other refuge. Fanny saw the broken-hearted wriiig her hands 
 as she took a last look around upon her furniture, endeared by long 
 possession. 
 
 " I have given it all to a dear, destitute woman, who has helped 
 when others passed me by," she said ; and groaning deeply, she 
 turned away to the cart standing at the gate. 
 
 At the " Home," a darker feeling of desolation in the winter 
 days hovered over Charlotte. Death soon cast oblivion over her 
 earthly sorrows. 
 
 Fanny retained a bright memory of Leonore Wallace, and often 
 questioned herself on the probability of learning the sequel of her 
 brilliant and happy lot. On a pleasant afternoon of the subsequent 
 summer, Abram summoned her to the parlor at the request of a 
 '' wiiite lady," as he said, laughing. 
 
 The stranger was dressed in the extreme of plainness, approach- 
 ing Quakerism, so thought Fanny. 
 
 " Mrs. Sterlingworth," said she, smiling, " I have called to ask a 
 favor. I hear that you are very benevolent and are never dis- 
 pleased at applications for aid." 
 
 " I shall be most happy to do anything in my power," replied 
 
WHITE MAY, ANt? BLACK JUNE. 785 
 
 Fanny, with politeness, won directly by the lady's pleasing address. 
 
 " It is a strange request, but I might as well make it, for I so 
 much object to applying to gentlemen. I have an invalid servant 
 who has grown old in my service. ' Toad ' has endeared herself to 
 me, and as poor as I am, Mrs. Sterlingworth, I cannot cast her off. 
 If I should, she would die of that even. I do not think she can 
 survive ; and in case she dies, can you, through your influence at 
 the ' Bureau,' procure a cart for her burial ? I declare, we are all 
 so reduced by our losses in the war, that I am forced to make this 
 appeal. I came to you, for I understand Nofthern generosity. I 
 passed many happy seasons North, in girlhood." 
 
 " I am glad to find that a few Charlestonians trust us," said 
 Fanny, smiling. '* Since the South is opened to Northerners of all 
 opinions, it is quite natural that we, who have heretofore been con- 
 fined within the limit of winter snows, should seek this delightful 
 . climate, and if possible engage in business like any one." 
 
 " You may be assured that in my heart uf hearts I welcome you 
 to this sunny clime. We Southerners seek your cool, invigorating 
 summers ; the exchange should be cordially reciprocated on our 
 part." 
 
 She then entered into agreeable reminiscences of her last visit 
 North, at West Elms, reverting to her pony " Marmion," her fall in 
 ascending the hill at East Elms, and the polite rescue from her 
 disgrace. In the course of the narration she laughed heartily. 
 
 " My ' West Elms ^ friends, removed to Texas afterwards," she 
 added, " and I have never heard from those acquaintances, since." 
 
 Fanny found to her unbounded surprise that this plain, frank, 
 and jovial lady was no other than her lovely, interesting, and mag- 
 nanimous Leonore, whose queenly image of youthful beauty and 
 grace she had preserved fresh in memory, to that moment. But 
 for cogent reasons that ran rapidly through her mind, she resolved 
 to preserve her incognito. 
 
 Conversation turned upon losses by the war. 
 
 " Why, Mrs. Sterlingworth," said Leonore, " I came down to 
 Charleston fully assured that I had sixty thousand dollars in the 
 bank, here ; but there is not one penny ! I am reduced to the 
 absolute necessity of sewing for a subsistence. Our Charleston 
 ladies have established a sort of labor-office for the destitute ; they 
 
786 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 eno^age embroidery and plain sewing from the families of those 
 who have been more fortunate, and from those who have been able 
 to resume business ; they distribute this industry among the rest of 
 us. Dear me, I sew days ! at night I am obliged to hold this fin- 
 ger so pricked by the needle point, in a cup of cold water, to reduce 
 the inflamation ! " 
 
 She laughed heartily over her own calamities, and Fanny was 
 forced to join. 
 
 "What would my mother say, if living?" ejaculated Leonore, 
 "to see my swollen 'fingers .? Mamma was a proud woman. She 
 used to reprimand me after my return from a Northern visit, for 
 setting a chair in its place. She would say, — 
 
 " ' Have we not servants enough to do that.^ I am mortified by 
 my daughter's vulgar habits.' " 
 
 She burst into uncontrollable merriment asfain ; then said, — 
 
 "We've no servants now. I have only 'Toad;' and most of the 
 
 time I am caring for her ills. I build my own fire ; but I cannot 
 
 blow it up to a blaze, for I've no teeth and cannot afford a false set." 
 
 Here she made a comical representation of blowing the fire, 
 
 saying with laughter, — 
 
 " I attempt to blow this way, and my breath goes that way ! 
 Well, I might as well laugh as to cry ! " 
 
 " Much better," replied Fanny, careful not to ulter a word that 
 might wound the heroic philosopher. " I suppose the times will 
 regain their former prosperttv, after the fluctuations of our civil 
 strife." 
 
 '• Some things cannot be restored, Mrs. Sterlingworth. My 
 father's house was situated in the burnt district. Every endeared 
 reminder of my childhood's home (and my local attachments are 
 very strong) is obliterated. My second marriage secured me a 
 lovely home in a distant part of the State. That has been reduced 
 to a ruinous condition." 
 
 "By the Northern army ? " inquired Fanny. 
 
 " I frankly say, no ! It was pillaged by our own guerillas; prob- 
 ably for the reason that our Union proclivities were well under 
 stood. I am living at present in a shabby little house, quite out 
 of the busy centre of Charleston — a remnant of my parental 
 dower." 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 787 
 
 The interview was pleasant to both. When Leonore took her 
 leave, after asking a second assurance of Fanny's aid in securing 
 the cart for ' Toad's ' burial, she cordially invited her to call, and 
 continue their acquaintance. 
 
 In October, in the midst of Fanny's benevolent offices the North- 
 ern mail brought a letter to her, bearing a black seal. With a 
 feeling of dread she broke it hastily, and read, — 
 
 " Ciotidspire, Mass., October — , 1865. 
 "My dear Sister Fanny,— My pen almost refuses to record the painful 
 event of the past week. Our family has been plunged into a sudden and irrepa- 
 rable grief. My dear, blessed father has left us forever. Without a warning — 
 without a farewell, he has joined the throng of the glorified. 
 
 "His last conversation with us, was concerning Alfy and his Southern bride. 
 His manner was cheerful as usual, and he went out about the grounds. The 
 dinner hour drew near ; I went out on the lawn to call him, where I had seen 
 him i^ass but an honr before. I did not find him, and went into the ofiice. He 
 was sitting in his large rocker, with his feet thrown upon the lounge. His ban- 
 dana lay across his knees, as was his custom. I spoke to him, but received no 
 reply and saw no movement. I thought him asleep, and approached. Fanny, 
 my dear father was dead ! His features were as placid and sweet as in his 
 healthful sleep. He seemed to have stepped from this world to the next, without 
 a moment of agony or a sigh. 
 
 " The funeral was strictly private, attended only by our dearest friends. In 
 answer to a dispatch to New York, Claude, Pearl, Mrs. Channaire, and Mary 
 came on. The Buddingtons, Links, Robert Adams, and the friends from the 
 'Green Valley' were present; also Doctor Paisley, Addie, and Plenry Hughes, 
 who were visiting us at the time. Claude and Zaffiri brought the richest profu- 
 sion of rare flowers from New York. March presented also a large floral cross, 
 and laid it reverently upon the coffin with his own hands. Dear father was lit- 
 erally buried in flowers. 
 
 "No clergyman was present. Richard offered prayer. George Buddington 
 reviewed my father's ripe and useful life. Madame Lambelle read in her silvery 
 voice, Longfellow's * Psalm of Life.' Squire Buddington, Mr. Link, Doctor 
 Paisley, and Roland bore his coffin to the cemetery, followed by us all. 
 
 " Dear Fanny, can we not all say that Doctor Clarendon's work was done, 
 and well done ? None can enter Heaven wearing a purer, whiter robe than my 
 dear, just, beneficent and affectionate father ! 
 
 "Sister Lucy." 
 
 In 1867, on a bright morning in November, Fanny and Afra 
 seated themselves in the cars with Richard, on a visit to a rice 
 
7^8 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 plantation. At the end of the railroad conveyance, they took a 
 buggy awaiting them, and were soon lost in piny woods, amid the 
 hum of insects, spicy breezes, and the songs of birds. 
 
 "This reminds me of our island home," said Afra. "How 
 quiet ! An actual sabbath reigns in these solitudes. If we were 
 mounted on ' Cotion Ball ' and ' Chinquapin ,' it would be a pleasure 
 to explore these grassy paths." 
 
 " Richard," asked Fanny, "do you not find these plantation soli- 
 tudes charming ? " 
 
 " Enchanting ! We passed a plensant summer in the pines, and 
 have not long since returned to the house. We are all settled now, 
 however, and ready for your long deferred visit." 
 
 The slow mule brought them to the avenue gate in good time 
 for dinner. On the shady road to the house, the whole family met 
 them with noisy welcome ; Lucy, Filette, Squire Buddington, Ro- 
 land, Hester and Henry Hughes. 
 
 " Who could have imagined, ten years ago, that radicals and 
 fanatics would be found running South Carolina rice plantations ? " 
 exclaimed Fanny. 
 
 "We are no longer fanatics," replied Squire Buddington. 
 " Since the amendments to the Constitution, we are considered 
 harmless, loyal citizens." 
 
 " Or, by reversion, the whole Nation, or at least the ruling ma- 
 jority have become fanatics, and we are considered no longer dan- 
 gerous ! " added Richard. 
 
 Fanny walked up to the house between Roland and Lucy. 
 
 " Ah ! my Carolina planter! " she said to Roland, there is some 
 difference between this and your shabby little cabin by the river in 
 Alderbank. How do your crops turn out.? How many thousands 
 shall you pocket this year ? " 
 
 " Several, I trust, Mrs. Fanny." 
 
 " Is it generally known that you are the proprietor ?" 
 
 " By no means," answered Lucy for him. " Uncle Richard takes 
 the initiative in all business matters ; but Roland will have all the 
 profits. This plan secures to us a lesidence of a few years South, 
 and furnishes capital to our nephew Roland, for a successful life. 
 We are quite proud of him. Besides, the study of medicine which 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 789 
 
 he pursued under my dear old father, makes him so useful among 
 these destitute freedmen ; and they are so proud of his profes- 
 sional services. I really believe they conjure up all manner of 
 sickness, in order to be attended by Doctor Roland Steele, of their 
 own color." • 
 
 "I ought to prosper," sdd Roland, "under such a self-denying 
 guardian as Aunt Lucy. Do you not think so, Mrs. Fanny? " 
 
 George Buddington and Richard Beame had hired plantations 
 as far back as the winter of 1866. The squire hired one adjoining 
 Roland's; and as its buildings had been burned, and Roland's 
 house had ample accommodations for both families, they took up 
 their abode together. 
 
 Unacquainted with rice' culture, they hired an experienced over- 
 seer the first year, but took charge themselves, the second. It 
 came out after, that the squire had leased the property of Theresa 
 Valmonte, affording her a generous annual income. Through the 
 efforts of Mr. Sterlingworth and Doctor Paisley, her city house had 
 been restored, and she now occupied her lonely house with Co- 
 rinne's mediator, in comparative ease and comfort. 
 
 Fanny had a true antiquarian taste for old and half-forgot- 
 ten local and family histories. When these were learned, she was 
 accustomed to people old houses in her reveries with the spectral 
 forms of their former inmates, trace their ancient habits and ideas, 
 and thus by comparison with the present, measure the progress of 
 
 ideas. 
 
 She asked Lucy during her visit, who were the original owners 
 
 of the estate ? 
 
 " Thereby hangs a tale," replied Lucy. 
 
 " * All houses wherein men have lived and died 
 
 Are haunted houses. Through the open doors, 
 The harmless phantoms on their errands glide 
 
 With feet that make no sound upon the floors. 
 We meet them at the door-way, on the stair, 
 
 Along the passages they come and go — 
 Impalpable impressions on the air, 
 
 A sense of something moving to and fro.* 
 
 " This time-battered house, Fanny, is haunted by the old story of 
 
79° WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 woman's wrongs, though showing a more cruel phase than is often 
 known in enlightened communities. Two ladies once dwelt here 
 in days agone. They were daily seen, — 
 
 'Under the lustrous leaves and through the sheen 
 Of dewy sunshine showering down bet^veen. 
 The one (the mother) had the attractive grace 
 Which sorrow Sometimes lends a woman's face ; 
 Her dark eyes moistened with the mists that roll 
 From the gulf-stream of passion in the soul ! 
 7"he other, with her hood thrown back, her hair 
 Making a golden glory on the air, 
 Her cheeks suffused with an auroral blush, 
 Her young heart singing louder than the thrush.' 
 
 "Now, I will answer your question Fanny. The original owner 
 of this place was Major Measures. He was a gay sportsman ; and 
 these woods, for miles in extent, have echoed to the horns of many 
 a hunting-clan. That large, broken circle of hitching-posts around 
 the live-oak was for the convenience of his boon companions." 
 
 " He never married, but he brought here to ' St. Cloud,' a lovely 
 young Northern girl ; won the love of her trusting innocent heart, 
 and made her his illegal wife. One fair child, a daughter, was 
 born from this union. As the years went on, he grew jealous of 
 the mother, and in a paroxysm of rage, the fiend called in slaves, 
 bound her, and branded his name into her tender, shrinking flesh 
 with a brutal red hot branding-iron ; intimating that she was his 
 p?vperty, with his colored chattels." 
 
 " He drove her from ' St. Cloud ' afterwards, on a small annual 
 stipend. She died in a distant part of the State. He took her 
 daughter from her, sending her to France to be educated." 
 
 Fanny was thinking how hard for herself would be a final separ- 
 ation from her husband and xAira ; her face was wet v/ith tears. 
 
 "Dear Fanny," continued Lucy, "that humiliated and abused 
 woman was Hattie Hudson, of whom we have so often spoken. 
 There are old slaves on this plantation who remember her well. 
 But listen ! 
 
 " * Though the mills of God grind slowly, 
 Yet they grind exceeding small ; 
 Though with patience he stand waiting, 
 With exactness grinds He all.' " 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 79 1 
 
 " Who holds this plantation now? Roland Steele; of illegiti- 
 mate birth, like Major Measures' daughter. Roland Steele — a 
 Northern colored planter ! " 
 
 " That reminds me of information I have for you, Lucy. See 
 how God's mills grind, in Charleston ! The Misses Fairland, those 
 arrogant daughters of the South, are reduced to the deepest pov- 
 erty. The father and mother are dead. They live in one room, 
 for which they pay only a nominal rent. Prepare for surprise, 
 Lucy ! The Misses Fairland earn their bread by making orange 
 marmalade, canning it, and selling it to any customers chance 
 may offer ! " 
 
 Lucy raised her hands, and uttered aery of "No! I cannot 
 credit you ! " 
 
 "Dorcas — your old Dorcas, told me herself. I found her out 
 accidentally, and she related their condition with extravagant ges- 
 tures of pleasure. You should have heard her, thus. ' Oh ! Mrs. 
 Sterlingworth ! she cried, ' I am too glad ! Just so, I poor slave 
 set up nights, and make marmalade when dey all sleep. I see 'em 
 bilin\ bilin\ biiin' ; si?n?ner, simmer^ sim?ner ; skim, skim / I see high 
 head come down ! come down ! Missis, I see dem put marmalade 
 in cans, jest like me, Dorcas, and send it off to ladies in Baltimore. 
 Do, I beg, let Miss Lucy know. Tell her dey be old and gray, 
 and seldom go out. Dey be shame ! ' " 
 
 "Dorcas is right," exclaimed Lucy. "These girls have ever 
 scorned labor ; and it is no worse for them to earn an honest 
 living, than for others. They have fattened, heretofore, on stolen 
 wages. I must see that dear Dorcas, who was my only trusty friend 
 at ' Le Grand Palais.' Did Dorcas succeed in buying her freedom, 
 Fanny ? " 
 
 " She paid all but two hundred dollars ; was not able to earn the 
 remainder, and was finally freed by the Emancipation Proclama- 
 tion." 
 
 At ' St. Cloud,' Hester was in her culinary glory, furnishing the 
 table with delightful Northern dishes — declaring daily, she could 
 never learn to live on " bacon and hominy." 
 
 Henry Hughes was supported in the "Union League" by Richard 
 in his own stead, as a delegate to the Constitutional Convention. 
 
 The freedmen on the plantations had an unswerving trust in 
 
792 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 Squire Buddington and Marse Beame, as they persisted in calling 
 him ; but these gentlemen waived all claims in favor of others. 
 Both desired Henry to fill that position of Constitution maker, and 
 they held him in the district for that purpose. 
 
 Fanny went to the plantations for the purpose of witnessing the 
 first exercise of political power, in South Carolina, recently con- 
 ferred upon the former slaves — the first triumph of colored man- 
 hood suffrage through the ballot. The nineteenth and twentieth of 
 November were golden days in that State calendar, as well as in 
 the harmonious and indulgent calendar of Nature herself. 
 
 An enthusiastic party gathered round the breakfast-table, in the 
 sun-illumined dining-room of St. Cloud.' 
 
 " The spirit of Calhoun should be present in his beloved and 
 misguided Carolina, to-day!" said Squire Buddington, "to witness 
 this tidal wave of progress, which, like King Canute, he vainly 
 strove to roll backwards ! " 
 
 "Ah! if we only had a 'Witch of Endor' to bring him up!" 
 laughed Afra. " Mrs. Buddington, what do you think the old man, 
 covered with a mantle, would say to his former constituents ? " 
 
 " What will you not imagine next, Afra ?" 
 
 " Well, I think he has been converted by this time, and would 
 say to Secessionists, like Samuel, ' The Lord hath rent the king- 
 dom out of thine hand, and given it to thy neighbor — even to 
 David.' '• 
 
 Squire Buddington, standing at the head of the family board, 
 held in his hand an empty wooden box, in size nine inches by 
 twelve. It was the first ballot-box for the reception of the new 
 suffrages, and had been prepared from a Northern starch box. He 
 said, — 
 
 " I present to your view, one of the corner-stones which v;ill 
 support the new Constitution of this State, which is about to estab- 
 lish justice, ensure tranquility, provide for mutual defence, promote 
 the common welfare, and secure to its posterity the blessings of 
 Liberty. According to programme, I now place it upon its honored 
 pedestal, before our hero of the day j the freeman, slave, and 
 freedman, Henry Hughes ! " 
 
 He proceeded to deposit it upon a high evergreen support in the 
 
HENRY HUGHES FREES HIS MIND. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 793 
 
 centre of the table, placing a laurel wreath, woven by the young 
 ladies, upon its closed slide. 
 
 Three cheers greeted this act, which were followed by demands 
 for the orator of the occasion. 
 
 Henry Hughes arose from his central seat, and bowing deeply 
 to Richard and the others, said, — 
 
 " My friends, with much humility I receive these tokens of your 
 loving kindness towards myself. As a humble candidate for polit- 
 ical honors in the Constitutional Convention, and in behalf of my 
 fellow-suiferers from American oppression, I would say, that in all 
 these proceedings I behold the hand of God. Unworthy as we 
 all may be, through ignorance and inexperience, to take upon our- 
 selves the duty of making laws for a State, this unworthiness has 
 been thrust upon us by a so-called Christian Nation. Such citizens 
 as we are, this Republic has made us. If, in the future, the finger of 
 scorn should be pointed to our legislation, we will point back the 
 finder of shame and condemnation for our errors and mistakes, to 
 the white race of our comtnoji country ! If we who have been merci- 
 lessly robbed of manhood, wages and suffrage, who have been 
 cruelly defrauded of education and property, fail to handle State 
 and financial affairs in such a manner as to bring back prosperity 
 to our oppressors, it will be for them a judgment from Heaven ! 
 Let all the world say, ' Amen.' " 
 
 Amidst responsive and prolonged * Amens,' he bowed, and re- 
 sumed his seat. 
 
 Hester now brought forward the smoking viands of the breakfast. 
 While the repast was in progress, conversation turned upon the 
 coming ballot. 
 
 " I do not perceive the magnanimity of conferring citizenship 
 upon Freedmen," said Doctor Steele (Roland.) " Colored suffrage 
 is not a new thing to Congress, or the States. For eighty years, 
 each Southerner has fought the Northern mono-suffragist with his 
 own vote, and the votes of three-fifths of any number of slaves he 
 might possess — counting slave women and infants. That kind of 
 negro suffrage crowded the Capitol with fire-eating representatives, 
 and wrung from Congress constant Southern exactions. I have 
 examined tiie Census of i860, and I find that in South Carolina 
 
794 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 the slave vote nearly equaled the white — lacldng only about fifty 
 thousand, to about three hundred thousand of white representa- 
 tion." 
 
 " True, Doctor Steele," answered the squire. "The Americans 
 are acquainted with colored suffrage ; and when it was under 
 Southern dictation, I do not consider that it was more enlightened 
 than at the present. That^ supported Tyranny. This^ supports 
 Freedom." 
 
 Every mode of conveyance was brought into requisition, to trans- 
 port the family and visitors to the voting precinct. 
 
 By Fanny's request, Henry Hughes drove two large docile mules, 
 attached to the large wagon, carrying the ladies in the afternoon, 
 Afra sitting by his side. 
 
 " So I rode with Henry, in my girlhood ! " said Fanny ; and a 
 merrier set never went to the polls. 
 
 Five miles drive through the sunny glades of forest, brought the 
 party to the spreading, moss-draperied live oaks, within sight of 
 the quiet, orderly throng that gathered around the small, weather- 
 stained building. 
 
 There was no angry clash of partisan phrase, no recrimination 
 of the past, no vociferating doubts of the present. Silent, rever- 
 ential, and trusting, the voters approached the ballot-box, and cast 
 in their bits of paper, inscribed with mystical powers which they 
 could not understand. Few knew how well they were building ! 
 Few knew that thus they were rehabilitating the State, and clothing 
 her in the beautiful garments of Equity. 
 
 A feeling of awe crept over the party from " St. Cloud," at their 
 departure. 
 
 The blood-red sun hung low in the west and touched every- 
 thing with crimson, as if to remind all of the terrible sacrifice by 
 which this glorious day had at last dawned upon the down-trodden 
 race. 
 
 The Precinct was holy ground, and the whole assembly seemed 
 in the presence of Him who worketh wonders. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 795 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 MRS. PAISLEY was closely shut into her parlor and had 
 given orders that no one be admitted. It was the day be- 
 fore Christmas. A shapely holly tree, clustered with its scarlet 
 berries, and glossy green leaves, on one side of the room, was re- 
 ceiving her earnest attention. Packages of various sizes were 
 strewn about, waiting to join their companions already swinging 
 from the branches. 
 
 A glance at the street showed her a carriage turning away ; a 
 ring at the bell announced a call. 
 
 " Oh, my ! " she ejaculated in an undertone, " this room is all in 
 confusion, myself included ; " and flitting into the hall, met her 
 servant with a hand upon the knob. " Remember, the back par- 
 lor," she said hurriedly, and hastened on. 
 
 Before she had reached the upper landing of the stairway, a 
 cheery voice called after. 
 
 " Halloo ! Mrs. Paisley, don't you know me ? " 
 
 She turned, ran down as quickly as she had flown up, and in a 
 moment was in her brother Willie's arms. 
 
 The next moment she said, — 
 
 " How splendid you are ! dressed in the top of fashion, too. 
 Why did you not write us you were coming? Issy and father will 
 be so glad to see you ! " 
 
 " I thought everything would be prepared for me at this festive 
 season, without that formality, and you see I judged correctly." 
 
 He was finishing the sentence as they entered the back parlor, 
 which was garlanded with evergreen and glowing holly berries. 
 
 "Aha! my little sister of the Alderbank cabin lives like a 
 princess. Where did you procure all these ? What are these 
 scalloped thorny leaves ? " 
 
 " They are the Christmas holly — they came from the planta- 
 tions. Doctor Roland Steele sent them down." 
 
 They took seats near the fire by the grate. 
 
 " Well, Sister Addie, I confess this is a delightful climate. I had 
 
796 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 many a good skate on Boston ice before leaving, and here you have 
 bouquets of japonicas and rose-buds. I hear our dear old father 
 is elected to the Constitutional Convention. Can you real- 
 ize what astounding changes have been wrought, within a few 
 years ? " 
 
 " I could not believe the evidence of my senses, at first ; but 
 living here amid rapifily shifting vicissitude and progress, I am 
 accustomed to see the world move. How long, Willie, will you re- 
 main with us ? All winter I trust." 
 
 " I have leave of absence for two months ! long enough to 
 daguerreotype Henry Hughes as a Constitution maker, indelibly 
 upon memory. I have still, as fresh as ever, the picture of him 
 as a half-clad, half-fed, despised Northern laborer. I have a fancy 
 picture of him as a Georgian slave. The next will complete the 
 set." 
 
 " Were many Northerners on the steamer?" 
 
 " Yes, they are flocking to Southern climes. By the way, I 
 accompanied ]\Irs. Corinne Buddington, child and servant, to 
 Charleston. I expect the Valmonte schism is healed, for while 
 the driver was removing her trunks from the carriage, I observed 
 a most affectionate embrace in the hall, and heard the words ''Dear, 
 dear Corinne ! " 
 
 "Yes, Corinne 's long absence has softened Theresa's cruel, 
 supercilious coldness. 1 am told that she is even quite proud of 
 Alfy's proiessional fame, and that she has conspicuously hung the 
 picture of Corinne and husband — she in her magnificient bridal 
 array — in her grand parlor. You know it was sent to her imme- 
 diately after the marriage." * 
 
 "That is all as it should be; how are they prospering at the 
 plantation } " 
 
 "Right well. Doctor Steele will make a handsome net profit 
 this season. His rice crop is abundant and of excellent quality. 
 How wonderfully Lucy and Richard watch over his interests." 
 
 "No more wonderfully, I think, than the Beames watched over 
 you and me, Addie. If all the religion in this world was of the 
 Beame, Buddington, Clarendon, and Link variety, the churches 
 would be relieved of the necessity of laying out a programme for a 
 millennium.' 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 797 
 
 "Precisely my opinion, Brother Willie. AVhat a remarkable 
 friend and father Mr. Link has proved to Alfy. Will he pay his 
 respects to Mistress Valraonte this winter ? " 
 
 '• Alfy is to come down to accompany his wife and child back to 
 Boston. You should see that little ' Mary Link Buddington.' She 
 is as sweet a one-year-old as you will ever meet. I expect Mrs. 
 Valmonte will adore her." 
 
 "Has Corinne a white nurse?" 
 
 "By no means. She has one of Robert Adam s girls. She is 
 devoted to Corinne and little Mary, and will know how to please 
 the captious Mrs. Valmonte." 
 
 Doctor Paisley's Christmas board was generously laid, and was 
 surrounded by his own family, the Sterlingworths, Hester, and 
 Doctor Steele. To these old and tried friends, were added two 
 picturesque figures who came to the table on canes, two withered 
 old bodies in plaid turbans, faded black dresses, and neat gingham 
 aprons. Both had worn their lives out in the cotton field ; their 
 unpaid wages had all been pocketed by the slave-master, and they 
 were left to eke out a nearly finished earthly existence, by the daily 
 sale of a few peanuts on the street corners. Old " Nan " was the 
 protegee of Addie ; and old Peggy, for half her support, leaned daily 
 upon Afra. Addie had said to Afra, — 
 
 " We must take care not to lead selfish lives." In a sacred glee, 
 she added, " Let us remember we are in a good and regular stand- 
 ing in the liberal, independent Beame church of Alderbank. To 
 continue our example without blemish, let us give these two good 
 old souls a Christmas dinner." 
 
 The appetite was gratified by Southern dishes of venison, duck, 
 wild turkey, ham, rice, yams, and a tempting dessert. To the circle 
 still lingering at the table. Doctor Paisley said, — 
 
 " Gentlemen and ladies, we never use wine as a beverage. I 
 propose in its stead, copious libations of the nectar of poesy, that 
 if possible, our hearts may be stimulated to nobler aspirations, and 
 that our minds may be healthily lifted above the groveling cares of 
 sense." 
 
 His reply was unanimous applause. Each poem was recited 
 standing. Mr. Sterlingworth repeated first "The Reformer," by. 
 Whittier. Fanny begged the pleasure of paying a poetical tribute 
 
79^ WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 to Jefferson Davis, arxd recited with dramatic effect, " King Canute 
 and his Nobles," by Doctor Wolcott. Willie Hughes recited for 
 his father who rose with his son, Ralph Waldo Emerson's " Boston 
 Hymn," read in Music Hall, Jan. i, 1863. He was followed by 
 Doctor Steele, who repeated for himself and Hester, standing, "The 
 Black Regiment," by George H. Boker. Afra was called upon 
 next. Without prudery and with a winning grace, she repeated, 
 Tennyson's "Lady Godiva." Addie followed her with Long- 
 fellow's " Killed at the Ford." 
 
 Fanny bade old "Nan" and "Peggy" remain in their seats, 
 while she repeated for them, " Nearer, my God to Thee," by Sarah 
 F. Adams. Every one at the the table felt their eyes misty when, 
 in response to the solemn words so slowly and distinctly repeated, 
 their wrinkled hands clasped and their heads bowed with low 
 groans, at every verse. 
 
 Little Susie and Henry were lifted upon their feet in chairs. 
 
 "Little Susie, who said something sweet.? " asked her mother. 
 
 "A — be Lincoln, mamma." 
 
 " Repeat it, darling. Whatever — 
 
 " Hoteber sail appear to be Dod's will, I vill do." 
 
 The general applause was so great that little Susie slid down 
 from her chair, ran round to Addie and hid her face in her arms. 
 
 Doctor Paisley rose smilingly, saying he desired to remember a 
 recent visitor to the city, "Miss Mary Link Buddington." A wreath 
 of smiles met the request. In the tenderest voice, as if endeav- 
 oring to make the little lady herself understand, he slowly repeated 
 '^Baby Bye," from Theodore Tilton. After the cheering and 
 laughing, he said, — 
 
 "Dear friends, our wine is quaffed and our nerves are still 
 strong. As other offices devolve upon this festival day, shall we 
 have the benediction t Papa's boy can repeat the words of Mr. 
 VVilliam Lloyd Garrison at Charleston, in April, 1865." 
 
 The party rose, Henry Hughes going round to Hft his petted 
 grandson again, into his chair The child repeated in a clear, in- 
 nocent voice, these words, — 
 
 " / hieiv of the black or colored people as the children of God, men 
 and women, created in the safne divifie ifnage, having by creation the 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. • 799 
 
 same sacred rights, and as much entitled to liberty as the proudest slave- 
 holdor that walked the earth." 
 
 "A sentiment, sublime as Garrison himself!" responded Mr. 
 Sterlingworth, to which all present assented. 
 
 Issy and Addie led the way to the parlor, where the holly-tree was 
 unveiled. Willie Hughes was delegated to pluck the Christmas 
 fruitage, which was bountiful and appropriate. None were for- 
 gotten ; but as Henry Hughes is the hero of the day, his remem- 
 brances only need be enumerated. Afra put into his hands a 
 sealed box, inscribed "From May Dentelle." 
 
 His eyes habitually sad, lighted up at the sound of that name. 
 
 " Open it now, dear father," said Willie, coming forward to as- 
 sist. 
 
 The old man loosed the knots of the package, as if they were 
 sacred from the giver's touch. The seal was broken, and a tiny 
 key was discovered. He unlocked it, and lo! exclamations were 
 uttered by all gathered about him. He raised a costly gold watch 
 and massive fob chain with elegant seals. 
 
 " Moultrie Bloome ! " exclaimed Willie, " it must be her deceased 
 father's watch. There is a small, folded note, dear father, and 
 money beneath it." 
 
 " Read the note, my son." 
 
 He read, — 
 
 '•June, receive this watch from May. Wear it always. With this money, I 
 desire that you should purchase an entire fine black cloth suit and whatever else 
 will add to your happiness and comfort. It is due, with a much greater amount 
 for your long and faitliful service to May." 
 
 " The Lord is good," said Henry in an agitated voice. 
 
 After a half hour of admiraUon, both of the giver and the gift, 
 Willie placed the watch upon his father's person. 
 
 " Henry Hughes ! ' again cried Afra. This time it was a cane 
 with a bent handle. Upon a gold plate she read, " Willie, to his 
 father." He further explained that it grew near the spot by the 
 river in Alderbank, where the little cabin once stood. 
 
 " Henrv Hughes again," laughed Afra. 
 
 "I believe you are a good fairy like your mother," he said, 
 taking the package and opening it. 
 
8oo • WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " Gold spectacles," he said. " I am afraid I shall lose the humil- 
 ity necessary to my condition. Read Afra." 
 
 She read, — 
 
 " From Issy and Addie." 
 
 He made no reply, appearing more concerned than pleased. 
 
 " Do not take these inflictions to heart, poor father," said Doc- 
 tor Paisley. " You deserve all these, and more. These few 
 mementos are a small reward for your life of suffering." 
 
 ** Wear them, use them," added Mr. Sterlingworth. "They are 
 but a small portion of your unpaid wages, Mr. Hughes. The gold 
 and broadcloth belong to the honest toiler. Wear them and be 
 happy." 
 
 " Old " Nan " and " Peggy " tottered up to him on their canes 
 with the happiest of faces. 
 
 " Wear dem ebery day," they said ; " youse earn twenty watch, 
 — all gold; youse earn whole plantation — tousan acre ; tank de 
 Lord youse got your chilen ! Wese got none — all done sold ; me 
 five and Peggy six — all done gone. Tank de Lord for de chilen 
 and de gold." 
 
 Afra went back to the holly tree, and cried " Nan and Peggy." 
 She carried a large package to each containing a full suit of cloth- 
 ing, neatly finished for immediate use. The thanks, chatting, nod- 
 ding, unfolding and folding done in their corner, was the brightest 
 feature of that Christmas. 
 
 At the departure, Fanny took Hester home with her ; and for a 
 week she enjoyed the rest and quiet of the Sterlingworth family. 
 Together they recounted their New England past, with many a 
 hearty laugh of derision and triumph. 
 
 On the fourteenth of January, Henry Hughes stepped down from 
 Doctor Paisley's door, watched by the happy face of Addie, and 
 leaning proudly upon Willie's arm, passed down through Meeting 
 street, entered the deep yard of the Club House, wound along its 
 evergreen shrubbery, ascended the broad staircase, entered the 
 grand hall of God-defying, slave-holding wassail, and took his seat 
 among the one hundred and twenty four delegates for the purpose 
 of framing for the rebellious State of South Carolina a constitution 
 which should establish justice as the law of the land. His elegant 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 8oi 
 
 dress, his massive gold chain and seals, the gold mounted cane on 
 which his hand rested, the spectacles, gray hair, his noble, patient 
 face, and his keen, intelligent eye were aristocratic and impressive 
 to the spectators. 
 
 He looked about upon the earnest, hopeful white faces. North- 
 ern and Southern, mingling in nearly equal number with delegates 
 of his own color. In a prayerful soliloquy, he murmured, — 
 
 " Old things have passed away. Behold^ ell thi?igs have become new.'* 
 
 He raised his head, and the Divine image in which he was 
 created illuminated every feature. The mantle of his stolen man- 
 hood fell at last upon the shoulders of Henry Hughes, enfolding 
 him in a new glory scarcely understood by himself. His heretofore 
 bent form sat erect. His head, heretofore bowed in despair, took 
 its proper and dignified poise. A radiant smile of hope and trust 
 beamed upon his grief-furrowed lineaments. He said mentally, — 
 
 " In the language of Cloudspire church, at last, I see a great light 
 Restored to my educated children, to freedom, to political and 
 civil equality, what can I ask for more .? " 
 
 Willie, sitting apart among the spectators, recalled the negro pew 
 of Cloudspire religion ; the Buddinglon pew torn up to the bare 
 sleepers, and the ground beneath. In a dizzy rapture he ex- 
 claimed, — 
 
 " The Lord reigns ! The sight alone, presented in this hall, is a 
 canticle of praise ! 
 
 ' Though the mills of God grind slowly, 
 
 Yet they grind exceeding small ; 
 Though with patience He stand waiting, 
 
 With exactness grinds He all.' " 
 
 During that winter, a letter arrived at '' St. Cloud " plantation 
 for Filette, post-marked at Charleston. She broke the heavy seal 
 bearing the initials, C. L., took out three sheets of closely written 
 note paper, scanning the signature first. She immediately sum- 
 moned Lucy, and together they read the alternation of pleasant 
 and startling information, of which a few extracts will be sufficient. 
 
 ^^ Alabama, Feb. 15, 1S65. 
 My Dear Hebe, — Do not be offended to learn that we have made the long 
 journey from New York, without a call of love upon Charleston, and * St. Cloud.' 
 Claude and I have long had in min^ the idea of purchasing the Channaire 
 
802 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 mansion in this State, both for the gratification of my dear mother, Celestine 
 Channaire, and to secure to ourselves a winter residence in the South. Conse- 
 quently, Claude made a trip here early in the fall, and found the house and 
 grounds not only in excellent repair, but adorned with rare shrubbery, gardens, 
 an orangery, and pleasant parks. 
 
 " Property has depreciated since the war, and this dear home of my mother's 
 childhood was for sale at half its former price. Claude purchased it, and re- 
 turned quickly. 
 
 " r proposed to my mother, to take a Southern journey to Savannah, to visit 
 dear May Dentelle. We took a steamer in New York for that city, remained a 
 week with May, and proposed a further tour South. As we journeyed, my 
 mother said, ' Pearl, would not you like to visit my beloved home, and although 
 it is in the hands of strangers, fix its principal features in memory?' Claude 
 assented. We arrived at the town near it. and took a carriage a short distance 
 through the country, to ' Elysee,' the name of the plantation. 
 
 " At the high, handsome iron gateway, overrun with ivy, my mother hesitated, 
 and said, * I di.^like to meet strangers here. Let us survey the grounds, and 
 return.' Claude said assuringly, ' R-main here with Pearl a few moments, and 
 I will remove all unpleasantness about entering.' Poor, suffering mother ! She 
 looked so pale and agitated ! While she surveyed from the carriage the delight- 
 ful surroundings. Claude returned, saying the people were very courteous, and 
 invited our party to enter. She took my arm up the long brick walk, seeming 
 scarcely able to stand. 
 
 " We entered the spacious hall, and turned into the parlor, without attend- 
 ance. It was freshly carpeted, and supplied with new, stylish, rose-wood 
 furniture. 
 
 " ' Ah ! ' said my mother, weeping, ' how delightful ! Here in these parlors 
 and chambers I spent the gayest, happiest part of my life ! ' 
 
 '• I said, * Come up stairs, and show me your chamber, dear mother.' She 
 utterly refused, as being a breach of good manners. 'No, I replied ; the occu- 
 pants are perfectly willing you should do so. and have even invited us to dine.' 
 Just then Claude entered with my former Italian maid, Cossetina. My mother 
 knew that she had come over from Italy, in great povert}^, with her husband and 
 children, to New York, and recognized her immediately. 
 
 " ' Cossetina, how came you here ? ' she asked. 
 
 *• I could not endure her cruel suspense longer, and answered, ' Dear mother, 
 this charming Elysee is yours and mine ! We are to pass the winter here. 
 Come to your own chamber — it awaits you.' Claude had furnished it as nearly 
 as possible in conformity to the descriptions she had often given me in conver- 
 sation. He assisted her up stairs; and in her own furnished apartment, she 
 gave way to one of those nervous attacks, by which she was often prostrated in 
 other days. She desired, as usual, to be left alone. 
 
 " We are very happy here now. My mother and I are healthy and strong. 
 Cossetina is in ecstasies. Her husband is an experienced gardener, and when 
 we go North for the summers, they will remain to take care of Elysee. Our 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 803 
 
 beautiful Italian tongue is revived, and whatever spies may lurk around us 
 Northerners, they will be no wiser. Cossetina speaks Italian with me ; her hus- 
 band and children know no English. 
 
 *' The poor Freedmen in the country are in a terrible fear from the secret so- 
 cieties, called Klu Klux Klans. This murderous organization is composed of 
 former slave-holders, who go out nights, whipping, maiming, and hanging Re- 
 publican voters, and members of the ' Union League.' They dress in grotesque 
 costumes, wholly concealing identity. One of the Cyclopses, as they terra their 
 leaders, has endeavored to induce Claude to join them, so that he has all the 
 mysteries of the Order. Claude excused himself on the ground that he was 
 not a resident of Alabama ; and although a Democrat in ante-bellum times, he 
 now had assumed neutrality, on account of ill health, and constant change of 
 location. 
 
 "One sure shield of protection to us from these midnight assassins, is the 
 fact which I take pains to disseminate, that I am a native South Carolinian. 
 Thanks to Claude's former experience among these bloodthirsty Alabamiars, 
 and to the Italian which will be spoken in our absence, we shall escape being 
 murdered or driven out. 
 
 *' My mother has resolved to pass the summer here, as the proud mistress of 
 * Elysee.' 1 am glad to hear that you are all going North this vear ; and that 
 you and Lucy will go on this spring. I shall do myself the pleasure of spend- 
 ing a few of the summer weeks with your dear families in Cloudspire. In re- 
 turn, vv-e shall claim your winters, or a part of them, at our lovely Elysee. 
 ^ " I cannot tell you how much Claude misses March, both hefe, and in New 
 York ; but we could not consent to retain him longer. His intelligence, gentle- 
 manly address, and the general information which he has acquired North by 
 extensive reading, and contact with our noblest minds, eminently fit him for a 
 leader in the Republican movement of the day. The way is open for his politi- 
 cal preferment, and we could but bid him God-speed. He writes that he is a 
 candidate for the Legislature ; and we know he will become a wise and judic- 
 ious Statesman. We shall not fail to visit him in Columbia during one of the 
 Legislative sessions ! Grace a Dieii, Le bofi temps a vemc. 
 
 "I send this letter to Charleston by the politeness of one of Claude's Northern 
 friends. I doubt the safety of mailing it here. 
 
 " Pearl Z. C. Lambelle-'* 
 
 CHAPTER LXI. 
 
 " IT ERE! you infernal Atlanta, Sherman, Georgia nig^ger ! 
 XX How's your male going to draw a cart, that way.? Buckle 
 your harness, there. Get a strong string, and tie up that breeching. 
 Can't buy new harnesses now, till the country gets over thatcurse^d 
 Yankee invasion ! Recollect, I am overseer at present ! I don't 
 
8o4 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 understand what such a blockhead dropped out of Sherman's 
 ranks for." 
 
 The black in patched clothes, and toeless boots, smiled without 
 anger, and said, — 
 
 " JNIus' work for de hominy, and sweet tater, sir." 
 
 " You'd better have gone on to Washington, and made laws in 
 Congress, you'd do as well at that, as our ringstreaked — and — 
 striped Convention here in Charleston ! " 
 
 " Don' know what dat be, sir ! " tying up the breeching. 
 
 " You never was made to know anything. Go ahead, down to 
 the rice banks." 
 
 Colonel Haywood sprang on to his horse, and cantered away 
 down to the rice fields where his hired freedmen were clearing out 
 the ditches. 
 
 He had occupied "Vaucluse" two years. He had a hard 
 struggle to start cultivation. His house was nearly stripped of its 
 furniture — how, and by whom, no one told. Colored troops had 
 camped near, United States officers had quartered in his chambers, 
 cantered up and down the magnificent avenue, and sauntered in 
 his gardens, while their horses had been stabled in his stalls. The 
 white, scalloped fence, around Grade's flower garden, still stood, 
 dilapidated and paintless. Some of his former slaves remained ; 
 others, weary of Colonel Haywood's tyranny and hard usage, had 
 gone, some one way, some another. Their places had been sup- 
 plied by other freedmen seeking employment ; and over all the 
 colonel kept a sharp supervision. His dog kennel had fallen to 
 ruin, no longer the baying hounds, followed by the thundering 
 heels of gay huntsmen, resounded in the forests. But one of his 
 numerous stalls is now occupied, and that by a half-worn cavalry 
 horse which suffices for plantation business. 
 
 Grace has but one servant, who unites the duties of maid, seam- 
 stress and table waiter. 
 
 One cook occupies the extensive kitchens, who, finding that the 
 reduced "cuisine " of the lord proprietary, gives sufficient time for 
 laundry service, takes that upon herself, also. Of the fifteen 
 house-servants which kept Vaucluse in palatial order, before the 
 civil war, not one met the family on their return to offer service. 
 The name of March, long since dropped out from Colonel Hay- 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 805 
 
 wood's curses, ceased to make a part of the plantation gossip. 
 The kidnapped waiting-man, procured in his place by the paid in- 
 strumentality of Lem Hamm, had stolen away to the Federal army 
 and found his way North. 
 
 Yet, a short time antecedent to Colonel Haywood's return, Vau- 
 cluse welcomed a wanderer of which he knew nothing. Old Prudy 
 was long since dead. The inmates of her cabin in the slave quar- 
 ters gathered around the light- wood fire, in the early part of 
 November, 1865, heard a light knock upon the door, and suspi- 
 ciously opened it to a stranger. With proper respect to his fine 
 dress and bearing, he was invited to enter. 
 
 " Cato, have you forgotten your old friend ? " said the brown man 
 with a smile, extending his gloved hand for the large, brawny, toil- 
 worn one of the cabin's occupant. 
 
 A supertitious fear was observable in the reply. 
 
 " I tink I know dat voice. Is you March ? " 
 
 "I am March ; don't be afraid, Cato. I did not come out of my 
 grave. I am alive and well." 
 
 Cato gave him a cordial welcome, set for him the same carefully 
 preserved old arm-chair that March's father had given to Prudy, 
 threw on more light-wood, and asked how he came .'' 
 
 "Are your children asleep, Cato ? " 
 
 " Ebry one — only tree of 'em. Don' you be 'fraid, March; 
 nobody on dis plantation hear you — all still — like Death been 
 here." 
 
 " Do you know anything of Ralph ? " 
 
 " He send word he come in tree weeks," answered Cato's wife. 
 " We neber want to see him gin." 
 
 "Well, then, I am waiting upon Northern officers, stationed 
 about ten miles from here. They very kindly loaned me an army 
 horse, and I rode over to see the old place once more, to gather 
 the news from you all. Can we get my horse into the stables ? " 
 
 " He can hab all de stall to hisself. It be de clar moon and we 
 can see any ting." 
 
 " Is my Flora's cabin occupied ? " 
 
 " Np, March ; de people's gone ; it be all lone." 
 
 They went out together, put the horse in the stable, and fed him 
 with oats that March brought with him. 
 
8o6 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " Now," he said to Cato, " I must spend this night in Flora's 
 cabin ; I have an army blanket, and with a good fire shall be hap- 
 pier than anywhere else. I am going down to the old Palmetto 
 tree where my dear, lost Flora prayed for me last ; if you will get 
 a fire kindled, Cato, I will tell you my story when I return." 
 
 March went on alone down the path, past the piny grove, through 
 the deep, sere grasses in the open fields, under the magnolias, past 
 the copses of sweet bay, to the sacred spot where he buried the 
 pretty French basket, and the beautiful gifts he brought across the 
 water to his still beloved Flora. The old palmetto had succumbed 
 to the destroying hand of time, but its rough stump was fondly 
 cherished by a richer mantle of jasmine, reaching over to the other 
 trees about it. 
 
 The old agony returned. Flora's sweet vision seemed to float 
 about him as of yore. 
 
 " Slavery is dead ! " he ejaculated, " but its cruelties remain ! " 
 
 With an aching heart he kneeled upon the small grave and 
 prayed, that, " if indeed she might yet live, Flora, abused, crushed, 
 worn, broken with grief and years, might be restored to his enfold- 
 ing love." But his petition appeared hopeless. When he arose 
 from his knees, the lovely vision seemed to have departed as a 
 warning that she could never return. " Flora is dead. There is 
 nothing left to me on earth but her dear, unfading memory." 
 
 How long he lingered, gazing again and again at every object, 
 he scarcely knew ; but he finally found himself at the door of her 
 cabin, where Cato waited. His grief was renewed within. 
 
 " O my Savior ! " he cried, " this room , once so happy, has for 
 me the chill of the tomb ! " He recalled her laughing eyes, her 
 busy housewifery, her silken curls, and seemed to feel again her 
 arms about him. 
 
 " Don't griebe so much," said Cato. '' Come, go trough de big 
 house. I'se got de key. Turn your mind. Come." 
 
 They walked on to the " big house," which was as silent and 
 empty as Flora's cabin. They entered. The moonlight was suf- 
 ficient to show the absence of luxury and comfort within. The 
 library door was open ; the glass doors of the empty book-cases 
 swung at random. 
 
 " In Ralph's chamber," Cato said, " De Yankee officers sleep 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 807 
 
 here. De hand ob de Lord sweep all dese room, clean. No more 
 furniture here dan in my cabin." 
 
 They returned to Flora's fire-lighted room. March rolled him- 
 self in the blanket, and threw himself on the floor before the 
 blaze, exhausted. He related the events of his escape, withholding 
 names. Cato's eyes enlarged at the recital of the box-ride from 
 Philadelphia to New V^ork. He threw himself flat upon the floor, 
 and turned several somersaults for joy. 
 
 " De Lord bless de Yankees!" he cried; "dey don' 'fraid 
 
 nothin." 
 
 Cato sat through the remainder of the night, on an old piggin, 
 watching March while he slept, and keeping the fire. In the gray 
 dawn he awoke him, and brought his horse to the door. 
 
 March put five dollars, broken in small currency, into Cato's 
 hand. 
 
 "Remember," he said, "you are not to mention my name or 
 allow my return here to be known. I have a great dread of Ralph 
 Haywood. I believe there is no black deed he will not lay his 
 hand to, if he finds opportuniiy. Remember, Cato, my name is 
 Paul Snow, in the regiment. The officers and men know no 
 other." 
 
 " I 'member all, Paul Snow," said Cato. 
 
 One more mournful look within Flora's cabin, and the svirift beat 
 of a gallop died down ttje pines. 
 
 Colonel Haywood returned from the rice ditches earlier than 
 usual, at ten o'clock. 
 
 " Grace, how is the dinner coming on ? " he said in haste, as he 
 entered his chamber. " You see we are to have twelve planters 
 here from this district, besides that cuss, Rev. Edmund Stone. 
 The meeting is appointed at ten o'clock, and we must dine at 
 twelve. They will ride a long distance, some of them, and need a 
 good meal. I'll go down, and swear at the cook ; that will help 
 the thing along." 
 
 " No, Ralph, I beg you not to do that ; she will leave directly, 
 and then I shall have to pick up anybody. You know they have 
 grown so independent since they were freed, that we are forced to 
 
8o8 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 be careful. The dinner will not wait. I have just been to the 
 kitchen." 
 
 "Independent! D — n them! I'll take the starch out of these- 
 niggers, when I get this company organized. Is my disguise fin- 
 ished.?" 
 
 **It will be in time; I am at work on it now. Do you know, 
 Ralph, I never undertook anything in my remembrance, that gave 
 me the pleasure that this Klu Klux disguise does. You see I can- 
 not sew fast, for I never learned to use a needle." 
 
 " How shall I get the others made ? There will be some poor 
 devils that cannot buy one. I shall have to furnish them." 
 
 " Do not be troubled. I will call a meeting of the ladies, and 
 they will be as glad as I, to engage in anything that will put the 
 negroes in subjection, and keep them away 'from the Union 
 Leagues. Ralph, why do you hire that clergyman ? I don't think 
 we are able to pay him a salary." 
 
 " I don't hire the d — d dwarf; he must stay somewhere ; he is 
 a good Democrat, and will help my plans. He asks only his sup- 
 port, and the niggers will supply him, mostly. He's got a black 
 wife, too, that works in the rice-field ; she will help support him." 
 
 The arrivals were exact in number, and the plain dinner was laid 
 in time. Assembled in the parlor with closed doors, the colonel 
 took the initiative, as was expected. He thus addressed them. 
 
 " Gentlemen, I have called you together to-day, to advise with 
 you upon the condition of our State. You need no explanation to 
 understand that, without some effort on our part we shall soon pass 
 under Negro and Radical Rule. Our legislative assemblies were 
 dispersed by Gilmore. General Sickles annulled our revised Crim- 
 inal Code, making all laws applicable alike to niggers and whites. 
 Really, he abolished color and caste. Corporal punishment, too, 
 the best remedy for insubordinates, he shivered with his sword. 
 
 " All negro crimes which we specify as felony, without benefit 
 of clergy, are to be tried in courts, with all the pomp and legal 
 display that we confer upon white criminals. Gods ! what are we 
 coming to, gentlemen ? In Charleston ! the city of our pride, from 
 which we have heretofore expelled every d — d fanatic, there sits 
 a ring-streaked and striped convention of niggers, scalawags, 
 and Yankees. , 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 809 
 
 "We relinquished our right at the polls very foolishly, I think, 
 on that convention. The Radicals or Union Leagues had it all 
 their own way. We were absentees." 
 
 " Ah, colonel ! it was too degrading to submit to military rule 
 and vote with our niggers besides ! " said another. 
 
 " We have been under the military, three years, since the war. 
 Our laws have been made and administered to us by the North, as 
 a salutary regimen is prescribed for invalids ! " observed " No. 3." 
 
 ''ParhkuP' ejaculated Colonel Haywood. "I reject the dose 1 
 or at least, I am about to propose to-day an antidote for what we 
 have already swallowed, by allowing the Constitutional Convention 
 to go through, by default." 
 
 " How did you find resistance in Georgia and Alabama, colo- 
 nel ? " asked '^No. 4." 
 
 (As this is a Klu Klux conference, it will be proper to denomi- 
 nate these gentlemen by numbers as they chose to designate them- 
 selves thus, on their bloody raids.) 
 
 " Every sail set, sir, and a stiff breeze blowing. They are whip- 
 ping and killing radical niggers, and driving out white Union 
 Leaguers. They are also preventing Radical votes, by refusing to 
 contract with Radical voters." 
 
 " Robert Toombs says of Republicans, ^ Ostracise them \ drive 
 them out ; spurn them from your midst P " observed " No. 6." 
 
 " That is the only proper course to take ! " chimed in Rev. 
 Edmund Stone. " We took that step at the North, towards Abo- 
 litionists." 
 
 •'I have here, gentlemen," said the colonel, a 'Constitution,' and 
 ' By Laws ' for our secret order, which I wish to submit to your de- 
 cision this afternoon, that we may get ourselves in working order 
 before the election for the Governor, State offices, and Legislature 
 takes place." 
 
 " I propose that it be read," said "No. 12." 
 
 " I think the vote would be unanimous in favor of reading, with- 
 out further delay," said " No. 10." 
 
 Colonel Haywood read from some sheets of fools-cap. 
 
 " Obligations of the Klu Klux Klan." 
 " I (name) before the Immaculate Judge of Heaven and Earth, 
 
8lO WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 and upon the Holy Evangelists of Almighty God, do of my own 
 free will and accord, subscribe to the following sacredly binding 
 obligation : 
 
 1. We are on the side of Justice, Humanity, and Constitutional 
 Liberty, as bequethed to us in its purity by our foreLithers. 
 
 2. We oppose and reject the principles of the Radical party. 
 
 3. We pledge mutual aid to each other in sickness, distress, and 
 pecuniary embarrassment. 
 
 4. Female friends, widows, and their households, shall ever be 
 special objects of our regard and protection. Any member divulg- 
 ing, or causing to be divulged, any of the foregoing obligations, 
 shall meet the fearful penalty and traitor's doom, which is Death ! 
 Death! Death r' 
 
 Constitution. 
 
 Article i. This organization shall be known as Order, No 
 
 of the Klu Klux Klan of the State of South Carolina. 
 
 Article 2. The officers shall consist of a Cyclops, and Scribe, 
 both of whom shall be elected by a majority vote of the Order, and 
 to hold their office during good behavior. 
 
 Article 3. It shall be the duty of the Cyclops to preside in the 
 Order, enforce a due observance of the " Constitution " and the 
 " By-laws," and an exact compliance to the rules and the usages 
 of the Order. To see that all the members perform their respect- 
 ive duties, appoint all committees before the Order, inspect the 
 arms and dress of each member, on special occasions, to call meet- 
 ings when necessary, draw upon members for all sums needed to 
 carry on the Order. 
 
 Section 2. The Scribe shall keep a record of the proceedings 
 of the Order, write communications, notify other Klans when their 
 assistance is needed, give notice when any member has to suffer 
 the penalty for violating his oath, see that all books, papers or 
 other property belonging to his office are placed beyond the reach 
 of any one but members of the Order. He shall perform such 
 other duties as may be required of him by the Cyclops." 
 
 Section second of article fourth prohibited the admission of any 
 person of color. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 8ll 
 
 Article sixth read, " Any member who shall divulge any of the 
 matters of the Order, shall suffer ^ieath." 
 
 The colonel continued to read further articles, and a paper of 
 by-laws. Section second read, " Five members shall constitute a 
 quorum, provided the Cyclops, or Scribe be present." 
 
 Article fifth read, " Each member shall provide himself with a 
 pistol, Klu Klux gown, and a signal instrument." 
 
 " How is the signal instrument to be used, colonel ? " asked 
 "No. 6." 
 
 " It is a whistle for intimating danger. When the Chief uses 
 k, it signifies, ' Mount ; ' for you understand that all members must 
 go upon raids, mounted, and disguised. Wait a moment, gentle- 
 men." 
 
 He left the room, took his disguise from Grace, returned, and 
 dressed himself in a long blue gown, with a loose, yellow head 
 -covering, drawn around the neck with a string, and having^a yel- 
 low mask face, with red about the mouth and eyes. A shout of 
 exultation went round. 
 
 " The Republicans will think the devils are let loose, when they 
 see a dozen of those hideous things ! " said " No. 8." 
 
 *• They will believe it when they feel the halter around their neck 
 drawing them up to a tree, some night ! '' said "No. 3." 
 
 " Or when they feel seventy-five lashes on their bare backs, with 
 hickory switches or with iron ramrods !" said "No. i." "We'll 
 make good Democrats of the new-fledged Union Leaguers ! " 
 
 " Shot guns or muskets will answer for arms," said the colonel. 
 " An Enfield rifle will be a fine arm for removing some white 
 Radical ursurper out of our way through a crack of a window blind, 
 or a curtain, dark nights.' 
 
 " This organization will be as effectual in ridding the State of 
 Northern poltroons, as our stringent laws of expulsion were before 
 the war ! " said " No. 7," with a malicious laugh. 
 
 " How many Constitutions and By-laws have you, colonel .? " 
 asked " No i." " We have, some of us, a long way to ride on our 
 return ; it is necessary to complete our business as soon as possi- 
 ble." 
 
 " I have written out six for the party." 
 
8l2 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 "That is sufficient," replied "No. i " "Those of us living near 
 the gentleman who takes one, cajfi easily copy and return." 
 
 " There are many offences besides political ones, which will call 
 for our raids. I shall swear in my Klan to-night, and raid as soon 
 as may be, on two defiant niggers. One says he will be buried in 
 a white burying ground. He will need a whipping. Another on 
 my plantation does not take off his hat when he meets me ; he 
 must be dealt with." 
 
 " It is quite necessary to organize immediately, to turn our 
 nigger voters into good democrats before the election — besides 
 we must go around to the polls ; we must crowd and intimidate ! " 
 said " No 6." "We have also to prepare the disguises, which will 
 take time.'' 
 
 " Our ladies will meet in circles and finish them in one day," 
 remarked " No 5." 
 
 "Let us bear in mind, gentlemen," said the colonel, "when any 
 danger of exposure happens, ' Dead men tell no tales T " 
 
 " Aye ! aye ! a5^e ! " was the ready response." 
 
 The colonel furnished copies of the Constitution and By-laws. 
 
 The party rose to take leave. 
 
 No. 12 asked, — 
 
 " What signs and pass-words the colonel's Order would use." 
 
 "My signs will be first, to pass the right hand to the left ear. 
 Also, place the right heel in the hollow of the left foot — the 
 answer will be given, vice versa. Any word spelled and not pro- 
 nounced, will be a pass-word, such as ' s-a-y,' or any other. The 
 title of my Klan will be, ' Holy Stone Klan,' in honor of our 
 brother here, who will take the oath to-night." 
 
 " I*think it is important to have another general conference, one 
 week from to-day, in order to secure harmony of action, and report 
 progress," suggested "No. 5." "As my location is most central 
 I shall most cordially welcome you all, gentlemen, at my house." 
 
 It was agreed, and the twelve horsemen disappeared down the 
 avenue. 
 
 After Colonel Haywood had bowed his guests away, he returned 
 to the parlor with Rev. Edmund Stone, and invited him to remain 
 at Vaucluse over night that the business of the Klan might be fully 
 arranged, and understood. The clergyman suavely consented. 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 813 
 
 "I desire/' said the colonel, "to make you Scribe — you are 
 supposed to be a man of much writing ; therefore, in your care and 
 keeping, the records of our Order will be secure. No active ser- 
 vice will be required of you — of course, Mr. Stone, you do not 
 mingle religion and politics." 
 
 Rev. Stone bowed in a servile manner, and said, — 
 
 " Certainly not, colonel ; my mission is to preach * Christ, and 
 Him crucified.' I hope that the eternal salvation of man is distinct 
 and separate from worldly or political subjects." 
 
 " Very well, Mr. Stone, suppose, as you are alone and at leisure, 
 you take the oath of the Order here, before tea, as afterwards, 
 after dark, ten or a dozen members will be sworn, and we shall 
 need time to open the records." 
 
 " I am at your service colonel, and the service of South Caro- 
 lina. It is the State of my adoption. I give my heart and hand 
 in the interests of her intelligent, humane people, and of that Con- 
 stitutional liberty bequeathed to us in its purity, by our forefathers. 
 I am ready to take the oath, sir." 
 
 Colonel Haywood took the copy of the oath, and standing, said 
 in the tone of an absolute dictator, — 
 
 " It will be necessary for you to kneel, sir, and hold up your 
 right hand." 
 
 The hump-backed figure slid from his chair to his knees upon 
 the floor, raised his bony hand, and listened solemnly to the read- 
 ing of the obligations, — to the last words " Death ! Death ! 
 Death ! " and as if to bind himself still stronger, he rolled his 
 round, staring eyes heavenward, and echoed, — 
 
 '■'' I swear!'^ 
 
 At the tea-table, Grace lavished more attentions upon this 
 apostle of Christ than he had ever received from a South Caro- 
 linian. He was overwhelmed ; being unaccustomed to these 
 favors, his acknov/ledgments became simpering and idiotic. 
 
 The two gentlemen exercised upon the piazza after tea, indulg- 
 ing in pipes. 
 
 '^Jupiter ! I used to enjoy my Havanas," said the colonel ; " but 
 we have given our property and our lives for the South Good 
 God ! I don't call ours a lost cause, yet. This Klu Klux business 
 will fix things right. History but repeats itself. In the long 
 
Sl4 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 records of man's existence, there are landmarks by which we may 
 guide our uncertain steps down the rugged paths of the future. I 
 repeat the sentiment of the Charleston Mercury I was speaking of 
 landmarks. When Oliver Cromwell trampled upon the cream of 
 England, and laid waste her palaces and gardens, crushing works 
 of art and scattering loved memories of past time with brutal joy \ 
 when he- had wasted to the very dregs the grand old Norman blood 
 that had built the British Empire, and given it laws and civilization, 
 and arms, and raised it among the powers of the earth, then came 
 the reaction; and Charles Second was proclaimed with almost 
 universal satisfaction. King of England. 
 
 " So the ' May Flower ' set her sails, laden with the germs of 
 future woe, and the Norway rats and the English Radicals landed 
 together on the mall stone typically called, ' Plymouth Rock,' to 
 the pest of the world, and the destruction ot the United States 
 Government. Now will come the reaction. The Cavaliers of the 
 South, the born rulers, will establish themselves in the power inher- 
 ent in their noble blood. 
 
 *' We have another landmark in Roman struggles. When Marius, 
 master of butchers, brutal, savage, hater of all elevation, hater of 
 all excellence, at the head of a filthy mass of emissaries and for- 
 eign slaves, assaulted his country and turned her nelds, her forums, 
 her gardens, and her palaces into butcher pens for the spilling of 
 that blood which through centuries had made Rome the master of 
 the world, then came Sylla. Sylla, red-handed, a fate, succeeded 
 Marius, the beast, and the Roman Empire was established. 
 
 " History repeats itself, I say again. Rev. Mr. Stone, and will 
 repeat itself in these States of America." 
 
 He strode with weightier step across the piazza, and after some 
 earnest affirmation from his low, ill-shapen companion, he con- 
 tinued,-^- 
 
 " Alexander H. Stephens, the vice-president of our Confederacy, 
 believes there ?}mst be a war of races. He was asked, 'Well, what 
 will the white population do in such an event ? ' This was his weak 
 and unworthy reply. ' One of two things, quit the country or re- 
 main and fall. For my part, my mind is made up. I have not 
 long to live. I will stay and go down with the ship ; but to the 
 young I would counsel them to find homes elsewhere.' 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 815 
 
 " I say that is the advice of a timid, old dotard. What ! eight 
 millions of civilized white men abandon their homes, the noblest 
 territorial expanse upon the face of the world, and surrender their 
 country in ignoble panic to three millions of barbarians, and those 
 barbarians tlie weakest and lowest in the scale of men — negroes ? 
 No ! this is our country ', and please God we will keep it yet, and 
 
 ru/e it." 
 
 Edmund Stone assented with fervor. 
 
 *' What do you think, Mr. Stone, of President Johnson's answer 
 to the charges of impeachment ? " 
 
 " I think, sir, that his answer is a most perfect and complete 
 vindication of his innocence. He has nobly opposed the proposi- 
 tion of any amendment to the Constitution by Congress, while, out 
 of the thirty- six States constituting the Union, eleven are excluded 
 from representation in either house." 
 
 " True ! If ever there was a friend to the South, Andrew John- 
 son IS that one. He has exercised the Presidential power in veto- 
 ing the ' Freedman's Bureau Bill,' and the ' Civil Rights Bill ' which 
 abolishes distinction between the races. He is an opponent of 
 Negro Suffrage. As far back as the fall of 1865, he strove to dis- 
 arm the adversary and set an example that other States would 
 follow. He wrote to Governor Sharky, of Mississippi, counseling 
 him to extend the elective franchise to all persons of color who 
 could read the Constitution of the United States in English, and 
 write their names; also, to all persons of color who owned real 
 estate, valued at not less than two hundred and fifty dollars. He 
 
 " ' This you can do with perfect safety, and thus place the South- 
 ern States upon the same basis with the Free States, and as a con- 
 sequence the radicals who are wild upon negro franchise, will be 
 completely foiled in their attempt to keep the Southern States 
 from renewing their relations to the Union, by not accepting their 
 senators and representatives.' ^^ . . ^ _ 
 
 " With the Charleston Meracry, I say, ' If the United States ben- 
 ate condemn Andrew Johnson, the name of every senator who de- 
 clares him guilty will stand gibbeted forever in history, as the 
 basest traitor to the South, Justice and Liberty.' " 
 
 At ei^^ht o'clock, the colonel donned his Klu Kiux gown in a re- 
 
8l6 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 tired, unfinished chamber. This time he appeared more terrible 
 by the long horns attached to his head. His face was entirely 
 masked. The ten candidates awaited in the hall ; and for expedi- 
 tion all were blindfolded at one time. The Rev. Stone conducted 
 each, separately, before the Cyclops ; arranging them in a semi- 
 circle around him and bade them kneel. 
 
 In this attitude and with raised hands, they took the oath to 
 the "Obligations," which. he read in a solemn, unearhtly tone. At 
 the close of the words " Death ! Death ! Death ! " he bade them 
 rise, when he read the Constitution and By-laws, to all of which 
 they assented. He gave them the signs and passwords ; he ap- 
 pointed the "Night Hawks," whose duty it was to warn the Klan 
 when, and where, to raid. 
 
 The Rev. Stone conducted each one into the hall again, where 
 they removed the covering from their eyes, and departed, till sum- 
 moned for deeds of cruelty, whipping and murder. 
 
 On a golden June day, following the events here described, an 
 elegant carriage, reflecting the sun's splendor from its wheels and 
 burnished sides, drawn by a proudly moving pair, and driven by a 
 liveried coachman, slowly approached the former residence of the 
 Fairlands, at " Le Grand Palais." The horses were walking and 
 tossing their fine heads, while the lady within the carriage wove 
 into a wreath a vase of exquisite flowers, kept fresh in the water 
 by her side. They were passing, when a well-dressed serving-man, 
 standing upon the high verandah, raised his hat, and bowed with 
 the courteous civility usual even to strangers of their rank and 
 style. The lady gave a second searching glance, exclaimed from 
 the open side, — 
 
 " Paul Snow, follow this carriage down to those graves yonder, 
 by the river." 
 
 " What does this mean, dearie ? " asked the gray-haired gentle- 
 man at her side. 
 
 " I will explain, papa, at the river." 
 
 The carriage wound slowly down over the grassy road, to the 
 river bank, when the one so strangely addressed stepped to the 
 side, and politely opened the carriage door, saying with joyful 
 surprise, — 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 817 
 
 " Pardon, Mistress May, I did not recognize you, until this 
 moment ! " 
 
 "' How came you here, Paul ? " said May Dentelle eagerly, for it 
 was no other. " Who occupies ' Le Grand Palais ? ' " 
 
 " A gentlemaii from New York has purchased it for a winter 
 residence, and, through Mr. Lambelle, I have waited in the family 
 the past winter. They are now in die North, for the summer." 
 
 -" May," said her companion, "is this the Paul Snow that waited 
 upon you with such attention at Madame Zaffiri's, that you have 
 never ceased praising him since ? " 
 
 " The same, dear papa." 
 
 " Are you sure the name is correct ? I think something is wrong. 
 I should say his registered name would be ' March Haywood.' He 
 has a strong resemblance to Ralph, and I have known both from 
 boyhood. If I had not supposed March dead, long ago, I would 
 swear to it. May ! " 
 
 She laughed, and said in a low tone, — 
 
 " Papa, you have divined the truth — but say no more here 1 let 
 us walk down the river-bank together." 
 
 Ever indulgent to her wishes, they alighted, and walked on. 
 May made a sign for Paul to follow. 
 
 Removed from observation, she laid her hand upon Dentelle's 
 shoulder, and looking earnestly in his face, said, — 
 
 " Dear papa, will you grant all my requests to-day ? " 
 
 She .took a locket from her bosom, touched the spring, and 
 showed him Isabel's curl, saying, — 
 
 " By that talisman, I expect to hear an affirmative answer. Papa, 
 will you grant all my requests, to-day.'' " 
 
 He pressed her small hand in his, raised it to his lips, kissing it 
 tenderly. 
 
 " What am I, to refuse your requests, my darling, my pride ? 
 Do ycu not lead me wherev^er you will ? " 
 
 *' God bless you ! dear, noble papa." 
 
 She recalled Paul, who had walked one side, and asked with 
 agitation, — 
 
 " Are you elected from this District, a member of the Legislature 
 about to meet in Columbia ? " 
 
 " I am. Mistress May." 
 
8l8 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 " By what name did you register ? " 
 
 " ]\Iarch Haywood, madam." 
 
 " Do you apprehend no personal danger, by remaining here till 
 the Legislature convenes?" 
 
 " I have not, madam." 
 
 " Then let me tell you, your life is in danger. We have just 
 paid a visit to Vaucluse. Colonel Haywood has been informed of 
 the result of the election, and has recognized your name. He. is 
 enraged beyond measure, and will take unwarrantable means to 
 prevent you from taking your seat. I can say no more than to 
 assure you that the assault upon you will be night work, by men in 
 disguise. Three nig/us hence is the appointed time. I must see you 
 safe in Columbia. We are rambling about the country for pleasure, 
 and I have acquaintances in Columbia. W^e are half way there, 
 from Charleston now. Go to the house, take what clothing you 
 need at present — as much as will pack in the driver's box, and 
 go with me to Columbia, immediately ! " 
 
 " Could I not remove to some other place, near here ? to ' Snow- 
 field,' or ' Success ? ' We are forty miles from Vaucluse." 
 
 " March, they will search every cabin for you ! The brand on 
 your arm will betray you, wherever you are. I demand that you 
 follow my advice." 
 
 Major Dentelle said, — 
 
 " I advise you to take May for your guide ! I do not approve of 
 this negro hunting, at night, but others do.'" 
 
 " Thank you, papa," said May. " Go directly, March, and come 
 down to the carriage. The horses are fresh ; at least, we shall 
 leave this district by dark. You will be my footman, Paul Snow. 
 Understand ? " 
 
 The same frightened look crept into the expression of March, as 
 Mr. Lambelle observed in the Quaker's chamber in Philadelphia. 
 He went to the house for his effects. 
 
 During his absence. Major Dentelle and May walked back in a 
 sad silence to the grave beneath the magnolias. He took the 
 wreath from the carriage seat, and May, weeping and kneeling, laid 
 it reverently upon the breast of her mother, Isabel. Tenderly sup- 
 ported in the arm of her father. May entered the carriage. March 
 took his seat on the box. Major Dentelle said to the coacliman, — 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 819 
 
 " Let the horses try their mettle. Take the route to Columbia." 
 In July, a week after the meeting of the Legislature, March was 
 
 summoned outside, from his seat in the Representative's chamber. 
 
 There stood before him a ragged, haggard freedman, who seized 
 
 his hand eagerly, saying, — 
 
 " I so glad to fin' you, March. Tank de Lord, you is well an 
 
 saft ! » , 
 
 "Why Cato!" exclaimed March, "what can be the matter.? 
 
 What brought you to Columbia ? " 
 
 " I 'blege to come, March, but I tell all nudder time. You is 
 busv now making de laws ; but I mus' see you face. I satisfy now." 
 
 "'Cato, I am glad to see you, — sit down here and wait for me. 
 In an hour the session will be concluded. Are these tattered 
 clothes all you have here? " 
 
 " Ebryting I got, March. I tankful to have myself. I tell all 
 
 dis ebening.'^ 
 
 " Are you hungry, Cato ? " 
 
 " I eat nottin' since yesterday morning." 
 
 March gave him money, bidding him go buy a meal. Then re- 
 flecting how little he understood customs, went out with him to a 
 restaurant, and left him at a bountiful table,, with the injunction to 
 return for him. 
 
 At the close of the session, he took Cato to a clothiers, and pur- 
 chased for him a becoming suit, which he wore away. He com- 
 pleted Cato's outfit at the shoe and hat store ; and after a call at 
 the barber's, took him to his lodgings. 
 
 *' There, Cato," said March, " you look like a new man. Come 
 to supper, and then tell me all." 
 
 Happy and confiding as a child, he followed March, stepping 
 carefully, and surveying constantly his strange new clothes." 
 
 At length they were alone. 
 
 " Now tell me all," said March, playfully. " I feared I should 
 never have the opportunity to entertain you, Cato. Try to feel 
 content with me. You sha'll share my bed, and this room, as long 
 as you like. How is your family, Cato. ? " 
 
 •' Dunno, March. Wese all run way from dem Klu Klucks. I 
 come here, my wife start fur Charleston, an' my grown darter, dat 
 wait on Miss Grace. You say when you come dat night horse- 
 
82 O WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 back, if I get in trouble, go to Missis Sterlin'woi-t in Charleston ; 
 she will help us. 
 
 " You see, March, fore de 'lection, dem debble masters get on 
 dere horses, and go round nights, whippin', and hangin* we. Dey 
 say dey make all we good democrat; and make we promise not to 
 vote 'publican ticket. Dey say dey won't hire no hands on planta- 
 tion dat vote so — nor any dat go to Union League. Say dey 
 dribe all we off ! Say dey dribe de Yankee off, too ! '* 
 
 " Cato, have the Klu Klux really whipped colored men ? " 
 
 " I tell de trut', March ! Dey whip good many I know, and I 
 tink good many I don't know. Dey whip me, Cato ! " 
 
 " Who whipped you ? " 
 
 ' I knows one — dat's Marse Ralph. Dunno de oders. Dey 
 all dress in long gown, hab head and face all cober up, say we 
 come from hell, an we gom' back to hell. Dey hab gun, an pistol. 
 Dey broke in my door, drag me out, and whip me wid hickory 
 switch till I can't walk, and say, 'You won't vote Radical ticket? ' 
 I say. ' No sir.' Dey hold de pistol to my head, and say, ' We make 
 you democrat 1 Den dey whip again." 
 
 " Did you vote at the last election ? " 
 
 " No, March." 
 
 " Were you not afraid to travel to Columbia ? " 
 
 "I trabel four day in de swamp and wood, and I seen tree men 
 hang dead on one tree ; den 1 seen one mo' dead in anodder place, 
 shot to pieces ! " 
 
 You must stay away from such friends ; never go back, Cato. 
 You helped me to escape to the North, before the war ; now, I will 
 help you." 
 
 " You mus' stay 'way too, March ; dey ride in de dark night for 
 you. Dat what I come dis way for — to warn you neber go back 
 where you was 'lected." 
 
 March groaned, and asked, — 
 
 " How do you know they would harm me, now ? " 
 
 My girl, maid to Missis Grace. She was in de dressing-room, 
 and missis don't know she there. Marse Haywood come in de 
 chamber, and swear and cuss 'bout March, say you was gone when 
 dev ride forty mile after you. Den he say when you go back, after 
 you done in Columbia, he hab nudder Klu Klucks ready for you 
 
WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 82 1 
 
 dere ; cuss and swear an' say dey take you in de woods an' shoot 
 you, and bury you so deep God ca7i'tfi7id you. She tell me ; I come 
 dis way to warn you. Stay in Columbia all de time, March. Marse 
 Haywood will murder 570U." 
 
 March paced the room — his face writhed in agony. He ex- 
 claimed, — 
 
 " Is this Reconstruction .? When will this South cease to indulge 
 in the ferocity of barbarism ? When will this lovely land cease to 
 be watered with tears and blood ? Alas ! when shall I ever be 
 free ? " 
 
 To and fro, to and fro, went his scarcely conscious feet, ponder- 
 ing upon his bitter past and no less cruel present. At length, his 
 hands clasped, his soft dark eyes turned upward a look of pleading 
 despair, as he mournfully exclaimed, — 
 
 " My Savior ! I am hunted still ! " 
 
 LAST CHAPTER. 
 
 BETWEEN three and four years after the events recorded in 
 the previous chapter, a carriage was leisurely driven to one of 
 the wharves in Charleston. 
 
 " Stop here, driver," said Mr. Lambelle ; then turning to his 
 gentlemanly companion, one of the State officials from Columbia, 
 he remarked, — 
 
 " I think we can observe every movement of interest from this 
 point." 
 
 "I think so, sir," replied March Haywood j "there will be no 
 necessity for our alighting." 
 
 "None at all; we shall be more secure in the carriage from the 
 jostling crowd. I think they are approaching now. Once more, 
 March, the Federal Government has extended its arm of power 
 over the rebellious and unrelenting South. By the peaceful gran- 
 deur of judicial process it brings the South again to punishment 
 and reflection ! " 
 
 In a few moments, a gang of white prisoners from the jail were 
 marched under guard, slowly past the carriage wheels and under 
 
822 WHITE MAY, AND BLACK JUNE. 
 
 its open windows. A motion from March fixed the attention of 
 Mr. Lambelle upon one of the forlorn, woe-be-gone, and haggard 
 crew. He wore a gray blanket in the manner of a cloak over his 
 shoulders, fastened with a string. His eyes were steadfastly cast 
 down. 
 
 "Is that man your proud, defiant brother?" asked Mr. Lam 
 belle, in a suppressed voice. 
 
 " That is my brother — Ralph Haywood ! " answered March, 
 with a compassionate sigh. That is Ralph Haywood, on his way 
 to a Northern penitentiary, in the snows of January." 
 
 The Klu Klux prisoners ascended to the deck of the steamer 
 *•' Charleston," where a detatchment of the Eighteenth Infantry re- 
 ceived them. They descended into the bulkhead, temporarily pre- 
 pared for their confinement, and were lost to view. 
 
 The carriage still remained. Mr. Lambelle and March, in awe- 
 struck silence, saw the convict steamer loose from her moorings, 
 heard the swash of the waves as she swung into the Bay, and left 
 the Port. 
 
 "Thus, my dear, dead Flora is at last avenged ! " said March. 
 
 Absorbed in reflection, he scarcely heard the reply of Mr. Lam- 
 belle, — 
 
 " Thus you, my patient, long-suffering friend, are at last set free 
 from his bloody pursuit ! " 
 
RARE BOOK 
 COLLECTION 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 AT 
 
 CHAPEL HILL 
 
 Wilmer 
 315 
 
 X