“Talk's all very well, Skipper,” said the mate; “but my word for it, I know'd several ships lying in the Mersey, about three years ago, bound to Southern ports for cotton. White stewards worth any thing couldn't be had for love nor money, and the colored ones wouldn't ship for ports in Slaves States. The Thebis got a colored man, but the owners had to pay him an enormous advance, and this, too, with the knowledge of his being locked up the whole time he was in port; thus having to incur the very useless expense of supplying his place, or find boarding-house accommodations for the officers and crew. If it be true, what I've hearn 'em say in the Mersey, the man doesn't only suffer in his feelings by some sort of confinement they have, but the owners suffer in pocket. But it may be, Skipper, and I'm inclined to think with you, our case is certainly deplorable enough to command pity instead of imprisonment. The government must be found cutting a dirty figure on the national picture, that would ill-treat sailors who had suffered as much as our boys have. I would hate to see Manuel shut up or ill-used. He's as brave a fellow as ever buckled at a handspike or rode a jib-boom. Last night, while in the worst of the gale, he volunteered to take Higgins's place, and, mounting the jib-boom, was several times buried in the sea; yet he held on like a bravo, and succeeded in cutting away the wreck. I thought he was gone once or twice, and I own I never saw more peril at sea; but if he hadn't effected it, the foot of the bowsprit would have strained her open in the eyes, and we'd all been sharks'-bait before this. The fellow was nearly exhausted when he came on board; says I, its gone day with you, old fellow; but he come to in a little while, and went cheerily to work again,” continued Mr. Mate, who though pleased with the Captain's determination to make the nearest port, seemed to dread that all would not be right in Charleston—that the bar was a very intricate one—water very shoal in the ship-channel, and though marked with three distinctive buoys, numbered according to their range, impossible to crops without a skilful pilot. The mate plead a preference for Savannah, asserting, according to his own knowlege, that a ship of any draft could cross that bar at any time of tide, and that it was a better port for the transaction of business.
The Janson was headed for Charleston, the queen city of the sunny South, and, as may be expected from her disabled condition, made very slow progress on her course. During the gale, her stores had become damaged, and on the third day before making Charleston light, Manuel Pereira came aft, and with a sad countenance reported that the last cask of good water was nearly out; that the others had all been stove during the gale, and what remained, so brackish that it was unfit for use. From this time until their arrival at Charleston, they suffered those tortures of thirst, which only those who have endured them can estimate.
CHAPTER IV. THE CHARLESTON POLICE.
MR. DURKEE had said in Congress, that a negro was condemned to be hung in Charleston for resisting his master's attempts upon the chastity of his wife; and that such was the sympathy expressed for the negro, that the sheriffs offer of one thousand dollars could induce no one present to execute the final mandate. Now, had Mr. Durkee been better acquainted with that social understanding between the slave, the pretty wife, and his master, and the acquiescing pleasure of the slave, who in nineteen cases out of twenty congratulates himself on the distinguished honor, he would have saved himself the error of such a charge against the tenor of social life in Charleston. Or, had he been better acquainted with the character of her police, he certainly would have saved the talent of Mr. Aiken its sophomore display in that cumbrous defence. In the first place, Mr. Durkee would have known that such attempts are so common among the social events of the day, and so well understood by the slave, that instead of being resented, they are appreciated to a great extent. We speak from long experience and knowledge of the connection between a certain class of slaves and their masters. In the second place, Mr. Durkee would have known that any man connected with the city police—save its honorable mayor, to whose character we would pay all deference—would not for conscience' sake scruple to hang a man for five dollars. We make no exception for color or crime. A qualification might be called for, more adapted to our knowledge of it as it has existed for the last four or five years; but we are informed by those whose lives and fortunes have been spent for the moral elevation of the city police, that it was even worse at the time referred to.
The reader may think we are making grave charges. Let us say, without fear of refutation, they are too well known in the community that tolerates them. As a mere shadow of what lays beneath the surface, we would refer to the only independent speech we ever listened to in Charleston,—except when self-laudation was the theme,—made by G. R—, Esq., in one of her public halls a few weeks ago. Mr. R—is a gentleman of moral courage and integrity, and, without fear or trembling, openly denounced the corruption and demoralization of the police department. Even the enemies of his party, knowing the facts, appreciated his candor as a man, while they denounced the publicity, (for his speech was paraded by the press,) lest the fair name of the queen city should suffer abroad. A beautiful farce followed this grave exposition. The board of aldermen, composed of fourteen men of very general standing, remained mum under the accusation for a long time. Its object was to show up the character of a class of officials, whose character and nefarious arts have long disgraced the city. But in order to make a display of his purity, Mr. C—, a gentleman entitled to high moral consideration, chose to make it a personal matter; yet, not content with a private explanation given by Mr. R—, he made a call through the press. Mr. R—responded in a proper and courteous manner, acknowledging the due respect to which Mr. C—'s private character was entitled; thus increasing the ambition of the board generally, who, with the expectation of Mr. R—making a like acknowledgment to them as a body, (not excepting their honorable head,) made a demand in joint-officio. This being duly signalized through the columns of the Courier and Mercury, Mr. R—met it with a response worthy of a gentleman. He referred them to the strongest evidence of his assertions, in the countenance which they gave to a class of officials too well known to the community for the honor of its name and the moral foundation of its corporate dignity. Thus ended a great municipal farce, to prolong which the principal performers knew would disclose the intriguing scenes of their secondary performers. The plot of this melo-comic concern was in the sequel, and turned upon the very grave fact of Mr. C—having some time previous withdrawn from the honorable board, to preserve some very delicate considerations for conscience' sake.
How much spiritual consolation Mr. C—realized through the acknowledgment of Mr. R—, or the honorable board in joint-officio from the firm admonition, we leave for the secondary consideration of proper wives and daughters.
But the reader will ask, what has this to do with poor Manuel Pereira,—or the imprisonment of free citizens of a friendly nation? We will show him that the complex system of official spoliation, and the misrepresentations of the police in regard to the influence of such persons upon the slave population, is a principal feature in its enforcement. To do this, we deem it essentially necessary to show the character of such men and the manner in which this law is carried out. We shall make no charges that we cannot sustain by the evidence of the whole city proper, and with the knowledge that truth is stronger than fiction.
What will the reader say when we tell him that, among the leading minds of the city—we say leading minds, for we class those who are considered foremost in the mercantile sphere among them—are three brothers, unmarried, but with mistresses bought for the purpose, whose dark skins avert the tongue of scandal;—that, twice, men were sold, because of the beauty of their wives, to distant traders, that the brothers might cast off their old mistresses, and appropriate new ones to an unholy purpose; that these men enjoy their richly furnished mansions, are known for their sumptuous entertainments, set an example of mercantile honor and integrity, are flattered among the populace, receive the attentions of very fine and very virtuous ladies, wield a potential voice in the city government, and lead in the greatest development of internal improvements;—that these men even whisper high-sounding words of morality, and the established custom considers their example no harm when color is modified.
What will the reader think, when we tell him that there is no city-marshal in Charleston, but innumerable marshalled men, supported by an onerous tax upon the people, to quiet the fears of a few. And what will they think, when we tell them that the man whose name is so frequently sounded through the columns of the press as the head of police, and applauded for his activity among thieves, is the well-known prince-officio of a voluptuous dwelling, where dazzling licentiousness fills his pockets with the spoils of allurement. This man has several counterparts, whose acts are no secrets to the public ear, and who turn their office into a mart of intrigue, and have enriched themselves upon the bounty of espionage and hush-money, and now assert the dignity of their purse. It may be asked, why are these men kept in office?—or have these offices become so disgraced that honest men will not deign to accept them? No! such is not the case. It is that moral integrity is not considered in its proper light, and is not valued as it should be; that these men have a secret influence which is well known, and are countenanced and retained for the weight of their control among a certain class; and, strange to say, that the party ex-officio make these demoralizing things the basis of their complaints against the “powers that be;” yet such is their feeble dependence, that no sooner are they in office than we have the repetition of the same things.