THE AUTHOR DESCENDS AMONG THE SLAVES, AND SUDDENLY BECOMES A MAN OF FIGURE, AND AN INTERPRETER OF NEW DOCTRINES.
I was moved with curiosity to know what they had laid their hands on, and I descended the bank to solve the mystery. The paper had passed from the hands of Governor to those of a fellow named Jim, or Parson Jim, as we usually called him; for he was fond of praying and preaching, which he had been allowed to do until detected in a piece of roguery a few weeks before by Master Major, who, besides putting a check on his clerical propensities for the future, saluted him with two or three kicks well laid on, on the spot. It was to this personage and his punishment that Governor alluded, when he cried, "What he-ah? Massa Maja kickin' de pawson!" as mentioned above. Although a great rogue, he was a prime favourite among the negroes, who had a great respect for his learning; for he could read print, and was even thought to have some idea of writing. This fellow was employed, on the present occasion, at the ox-cart; and, as it is no part of a slave's system to do the work of others, he had been sitting apart singing a psalm, while the others were loading his cart; and apart he had remained, until a call was made upon him to explain so much of the paper, being the printed portion, as Governor could not. The paper, it is here proper to observe, had been found by Governor among the boards and scantling; though how it got there no one knew, nor was it ever discovered. It was a pamphlet, or magazine, I know not which (and the name I have unfortunately forgotten), containing, besides a deal of strange matter about slavery, some half a dozen or more wood-cuts, representing negroes in chains, under the lash, exposed in the market for sale, and I know not what other situations; and it was these which had afforded the delighted Governor so much matter for mimicry and merriment. There was one cut on the first page, serving as a frontispiece; it represented a negro kneeling in chains, and raising his fettered hands in beseeching to a white man, who was lashing him with a whip. Beneath it was a legend, which being, or being deemed, explanatory of the picture, and at the same time the initial sentence of the book, Parson Jim was essaying to read: and thus it was he proceeded:—
"T-h-e, the—dat's de; f-a-t-e, fat—de fat; o-f, ob—de fat ob; t-h-e, de—de fat ob de; s-l-a-v-e, slave—de fat ob de slave. My gorry, what's dat? Brederen, I can't say as how I misprehends dat."
"Yah, yah, yah!" roared Governor; "plain as de nose on you face. De fat ob de slave—what he mean, heh? Why, gorry, you dumb nigga, he mean—massa, dah, is whippin de fat out ob de nigger! Dem hard massa dat-ah, heh? Whip de fat out!
"Lorra-gorry, massa, don't like you whippy:
Don't sell Gubbe'nor down a Mississippi!"
"Let me read it," said I.
"You read, you nigga! whar you larn to read?" cried my friends. It was a question I could not well answer; for, as I said before, the memory of my past existence had quite faded from my mind: nevertheless, I had a feeling in me as if I could read; and taking the book from the parson, I succeeded in deciphering the legend—"THE FATE OF THE SLAVE."
"Whaw dat?" said Governor; "de chain and de cowhide? Does de book say dat's de luck for nigga? Don't b'leeb 'm; dem lie: Massa Cunnel nebber lick a nigga in 'm life!"
The reading of that little sentence seemed, I know not why, to have cast a sudden damper on the spirits of all present. Until that moment, there had been much shouting, laughing, and mimicking of the pains of men undergoing flagellation. Every picture had been examined, commented on, and illustrated with glee; it associated only the idea of some idle vagabond or other winning his deserts. A new face, a new interpretation was given to the matter by the words I had read. The chain and scourge appeared no longer as the punishment of an individual; they were to be regarded as the doom of the race. The laughing and mimicry ceased, and I beheld around me nothing but blank faces. It was manifest, however, that the feeling was rather indignation than anxiety; and that my friends looked upon the ominous words as a libel upon their masters and themselves.