“And so I, too,” added a third.
The idea took; the experiment promised to amuse them.
“Well, then, let us make trial; that’s the best way to settle the point.”
The trial was made—I am relating a fact—the unfortunate boy was seized upon, a noose was adjusted round his neck, and he was triced up to the branch of a tree.
Just at that instant, a stag broke past with the hounds in full cry. The hunters ran to their horses, and in the excitement, forgot to cut down the victim of their deviltry. One left the duty to another, and all neglected it!
When the chase was ended, they returned to the spot; the negro was still hanging from the branch—he was dead!
There was a trial—the mere mockery of a trial. Both judge and jury were the relatives of the criminals; and the sentence was, that the negro should be paid for! The owner of the slave was contented with the price; justice was satisfied, or supposed to be; and Jake had heard hundreds of white Christians, who knew the tale to be true, laughing at it as a capital joke. As such, Arens Ringgold was often in the habit of detailing it!
You on the other side of the Atlantic hold up your hands and cry “Horror!” You live in the fancy you have no slaves—no cruelties like this. You are sadly in error. I have detailed an exceptional case—an individual victim. Land of the workhouse and the jail! your victims are legion.
Smiling Christian! you parade your compassion, but you have made the misery that calls it forth. You abet with easy concurrence the system that begets all this suffering; and although you may soothe your spirit by assigning crime and poverty to natural causes, nature will not be impugned with impunity. In vain may you endeavour to shirk your individual responsibility. For every cry and canker, you will be held responsible in the sight of God.