“The blacks are not to blame, old gentleman,” exclaimed Hawthorne, springing up the stairs. “How do you do! We call upon you at rather an unseasonable hour, I own, but our stay in the place is short you will understand. We will have a little conversation together on public affairs, and then I must trouble you for the keys of your stores, or an order for the delivery of such provisions as we may require, for which I am directed to offer you payment.”
The old gentleman, not comprehending who we were, was almost struck down at first on hearing this address, but, after a time, recovering himself, he begged leave to slip on some more clothes, and promised that he would then come down into his sitting-room and speak to us.
We heard him and the sharp-voiced lady discussing matters up-stairs.
More than once Hawthorne had to sing out—
“We are in a hurry, sir—we are in a hurry,” before his better half would let him appear.
I left Hawthorne and him to settle matters while I with my men proceeded to other houses. We had given strict orders that no violence whatever was to be used towards any of the inhabitants, and I fully believe that the lieutenants and midshipmen under us did their best to repress anything of the sort. Still it was necessary to keep a watch on all parties. Of course I was obeying the orders I had received in what I did, and had no choice; but, at the same time, I must own that I felt excessive repugnance in thus having to disturb and frighten out of their senses the inhabitants of a quiet town, who had in no way done anything to offend us. I resolved, however, to make amends to them by every means in my power, by treating them with the utmost delicacy and kindness. We had already seized on a dozen or more of the principal people, and marched them off to the square in the centre of the town, where they were kept under a strong guard as hostages for the good behaviour of the rest, and as a guarantee for our safety while we remained in the place. Not slight was the alarm and agitation when they were told that the instant any attempt was made, either by any of their fellow-townsmen or by any of the enemy’s troops outside, to re-take the place, their lives would be forfeited, while a pistol was kept presented at the head of each of them to carry this threat into execution. Having, in my rounds, visited the square, and comforted our prisoners as much as I could venture to do, I again went on with my domiciliary visits. At the next house at which I stopped the door was instantly opened by the black servant.
“Oh, massa officer! oh, massa officer! you frighten de poor young ladies till all die!” he exclaimed as we entered the hall. “Oh, ki! oh, ki! dey kick and squeal on de sofa like little pigs going to have dey throat cut. Oh, ki! oh, ki! what shall we do?”
“Where are the ladies?” I asked. “I will try what I can do to banish their alarm.”
“Dis way, den, sare—dis way,” said the negro, ushering me in a great hurry into a large and handsomely-furnished room, lighted by several candles. There were several sofas. On two of them lay two ladies, apparently in hysterics, while several other ladies and female attendants, black and brown, were bending over them and applying restoratives.
“There, sir! that is what you and your people have done!” exclaimed an elderly and rather portly lady, turning round and advancing towards me while she pointed at the younger females, whom I took to be her daughters, on the sofa.