The Witch of Salem; or, Credulity Run Mad Read online

  CHAPTER III.

  THE INDENTED SLAVE.

  Heaven from all creatures hides the book of fate, All but the page prescribed, their present state: From brutes what men, from men what spirits know; Or who could suffer being here below? The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to-day, Had he thy reason, would he skip and play? Pleased to the last, he crops the flowery food, And licks the hand just raised to shed his blood. --Pope.

  That which was most dreaded in New England and all the American coloniescame to pass. Charles II. died, and his brother James, Duke of York, wascrowned King of England. On ascending the throne, the very first act ofJames II. was one of honest but imprudent bigotry. Incapable of readingthe signs of the times, or fully prepared to dare the worst that thosesigns could portend, James immediately sent his agent Caryl to Rome, toapologize to the pope for the long and flagrant heresy of England, andto endeavor to procure the re-admission of the English people into thecommunion of the Catholic Church. The pope was more politic than theking and returned him a very cool answer, implying that before heventured upon so arduous an enterprise as that of changing the professedfaith of nearly his entire people, he would do well to sit down andcalculate the cost.

  The foolish king, who stopped at nothing, not even the mild rebuke ofthe holy father, would not open his eyes, and as a natural result he wassoon cordially hated by nearly all his subjects. His brother had left anillegitimate son called the Duke of Monmouth, who was encouraged toattempt to seize the throne of his uncle. At first the cause of the dukeseemed prosperous. His army swelled from hundreds to thousands; but,owing to his lack of energy and fondness for pleasure, he delayed andgave the royal armies time to recruit. He was attacked at Sedgemore,near Bridgewater, and, owing to the perfidity or cowardice of Gray, hiscavalry general, the rebels were defeated. Monmouth was captured, andhis uncle ordered him beheaded, which was done.

  Then commenced the most barbarous punishment of rebels ever known. Anofficer named Kirk was sent by the king to hunt down the Monmouthrebels, or those sympathizing with them. His atrocious deeds would filla volume, and are so revolting as to seem incredible. Another brutalruffian of the time was Judge Jeffries. The judicial ermine has oftenbeen disgraced by prejudiced judges; but Jeffries was the worst monsterthat ever sat on the bench. He hung men with as much relish as didBerkeley of Virginia. His term was called the "bloody assizes," and tothis day the name of Judge Jeffries is applied in reproach to thescandalous ruling of a partial judiciary.

  The accession of James II. made fewer changes in the American coloniesthan was anticipated. Perhaps, had his reign been longer, the changeswould have been greater. The suppression of Monmouth's rebellion gave tothe colonies many useful citizens. Men connect themselves, in the eyesof posterity, with the objects in which they take delight. James II. wasinexorable toward his brother's favorites. Monmouth was beheaded, andthe triumph of legitimacy was commemorated by a medal, representing theheads of Monmouth and Argyle on an altar, their bleeding bodies beneath,with the following: "Sic aras et sceptra tuemur." ("Thus we defend ouraltars and our throne.")

  "Lord chief justice is making his campaign in the west," wrote James II.to one in Europe, referring to Jeffries' circuit for punishing theinsurgents. "He has already condemned several hundreds, some of whom weare already executed, more are to be, and the others sent to theplantations." The prisoners condemned to transportation were a salablecommodity. Such was the demand for labor in America that convicts andlaborers were regularly purchased and shipped to the colonies where theywere sold as indented servants. The courtiers round James II. exulted inthe rich harvest which the rebellion promised, and begged of the monarchfrequent gifts of their condemned countrymen. Jeffries heard of thescramble, and indignantly addressed the king:

  "I beseech your majesty, that I inform you, that each prisoner will beworth ten pound, if not fifteen pound, apiece, and, sir, if your majestyorders these as you have already designed, persons that have notsuffered in the service will run away with the booty." Under this appealof the lord chief justice the spoils were divided and his honor was inpart gratified. Many of the convicts were persons of family andeducation, and were accustomed to ease and elegance.

  "Take all care," wrote the monarch, under the countersign of Sunderland,to the government in Virginia, "take all care that they continue toserve for ten years at least, and that they be not permitted in anymanner to redeem themselves by money or otherwise, until that term befully expired. Prepare a bill for the assembly of our colony, with suchclauses as shall be requisite for this purpose."

  No legislature in any of the American colonies seconded such malice, forthe colonies were never in full accord with James II. Tyranny andinjustice peopled America with men nurtured to suffering and adversity.The history of our colonization is the history of the crimes of Europe,and some of the best families in America are descended from the indentedservants of the Old World.

  In Bristol, kidnapping had become common, and not only felons, but youngpersons of birth and education were hurried across the Atlantic and soldfor money.

  Never did a king prove a greater tyrant or more inhuman and cruel thanJames II. After the insurrection of Monmouth had been suppressed, allthe sanguinary excesses of despotic revenge were revived. Gibbets wereerected in villages to intimidate the people, and soldiers wereintrusted with the execution of the laws. Scarce a Presbyterian familyin Scotland, but was involved in proscription or penalties. The jailswere overflowed, and their tenants were sent as slaves to the colonies.Maddened by the succession of murders; driven from their homes to caves,from caves to morasses and mountains; death brought to the inmates of ahouse that should shelter them; death to the benefactor that shouldthrow them food; death to the friend that listened to their complaint;death to the wife or parent that still dared to solace husband or son;ferreted out by spies; hunted with dogs;--the fanatics turned upon theirpursuers, and threatened to retaliate on the men who should stillcontinue to imbrue their hands in blood. The council retorted byordering a massacre. He that would not take the oath should be executed,though unarmed, and the recusants were shot on the roads, or as theylabored in the field, or stood at prayer. To fly was admission of guilt;to excite suspicion was sentence of death; to own the covenant wastreason.

  Sometimes the lot of an indented slave was a happy one. Hundreds andthousands of fugitives flying from persecution came to the New World,while thousands of others were sent as convicts.

  Virginia received her share of the latter.

  One bright spring morning a ship from England entered the James Riverwith a number of these indented slaves to be sold to the planters.Notice had been given of the intended sale and many planters came tolook at the poor wretches huddled together like so many beasts in an oldshed, and guarded by soldiers. Mr. Thomas Hull, a planter ofconsiderable means, and a man noted for his iron will, was among thosewho came to make purchases.

  "Well, Thomas, have you looked over the lot?" asked another planter.

  "No, Bradley, have you?"

  "Yes, though I am shortened in money, and unable to purchase to-day."

  "Well, Bradley, what have you seen among them?"

  "There are many fine, lusty fellows; but I was most interested andgrieved in one."

  "Why?"

  "He is a man who has known refinement and ease, is perchance thirty-fiveand has with him a child."

  "A child?"

  "Yes, a maid not to exceed ten years, but very beautiful with her goldenhair and soft blue eyes."

  "Is the child a slave?"

  "No."

  "Then wherefore is it here?" asked Hull.

  "His is truly a pathetic story as I have heard it. It seems he was awidower with his child wandering about the country, when he fell in withsome of the Duke of Monmouth's people and enlisted. He was captured atSedgemore, and condemned by Jeffries. The child was left to wander atwill; but by some means she accompanied her father, man
aged to smuggleherself on shipboard, and was not discovered until the vessel was wellout to sea. Then the captain, who was a humane man, permitted them toremain together to the end of the voyage. She is with her father now,and a prettier little maid I never saw."

  "By the mass! I will go and see her," cried Hull. "If she be all yousay, I will buy them both."

  "But she is not for sale."

  "Wherefore not?"

  "She was not adjudged by the court."

  With the cold, heartless laugh of a natural tyrant, Hull answered:

  "It will be all the same. He who purchases the father will have the maidalso."

  He went to the place where the slaves were confined and gazed on thelot, very much as a cattle dealer might look upon a herd he contemplatedpurchasing. His gaze soon fastened on a fine, manly person in whoseproud eye the sullen fires were but half subdued. He stood with his armsfolded across his broad chest and his eye fixed upon a beautiful girl athis side.

  The captive spoke not. A pair of handcuffs were on his wrists, and thechains came almost to the ground; but slavery and chains could notsubdue the proud captive.

  Hull delighted in punishing those whom he disliked. He was a papist atheart and consequently in sympathy with James II., so for this indentedslave he incurred from the very first a most bitter dislike. When theslave was brought forth to be sold, he bid twelve pounds for him. Thiswas two pounds more than the required price, and he became thepurchaser.

  "You are mine," cried Hull to the servant. "Come with me." The fatherturned his great brown eyes dim with moisture upon his child, and Hull,interpreting the look, added, "Hold, I will buy the maid also."

  "She cannot be sold," the officer in charge of the slaves answered,"unless the master of the ship sees fit to sell her for passage money."

  The master of the ship was present and declared he would do nothing ofthe kind.

  "I will take her back to England, if she wishes to return," he added.

  The child was speechless, her great blue eyes fixed on her father.

  "What will you do with the maid?" asked Hull, who, having the father,felt sure the child would follow.

  "I will return her to England free of charge, if she wills it."

  "Who will care for her there?" asked Hull. "Do you know her relatives?"

  "No; all are strangers to me."

  The father, with his proud breast heaving with tumultuous emotion, stoodsilently gazing on the scene. He was a slave and he remembered that aslave must not speak unless permission be granted him by his master; butit was his child, the only link that bound him to earth, whose fate theywere to decide, and, had he been unfettered, he might have clasped herto his bosom.

  "Speak with the maid," suggested a by-stander, "and see if she has afriend in England who will care for her."

  The master of the ship went to the bewildered child and, taking herlittle hand in his broad palm, said:

  "Sweet little maid, you are not afraid to trust me?"

  She turned her great blue eyes up to him and, in a whisper, answered:

  "I am not."

  "Have you a mother?"

  "No."

  "Have you any friends in England?"

  "None, since my father came away."

  "Where did you live before your father enlisted in the army ofMonmouth?"

  "We travelled; we lived at no one place."

  "Have you no friends or relatives in England?"

  "None."

  The captain then asked permission to talk with the father. Thepermission was given by Hull, for he saw that his slave had the sympathyof all present, and it would not be safe to refuse him some privileges.The master of the vessel and the magistrate who had superintended theselling of the slaves for the crown found the slave a very intelligentgentleman. He said he had but one relative living so far as he knew. Hehad a brother who had come to America two or three years before; but hehad not heard from him, and he might be dead.

  "Do you know any one in England to whom your child could be sent?"

  "I do not."

  "What were you doing before you entered the duke's army?"

  "I was a strolling player," the man answered, his fine tragic eyes fixedfirmly on the officers. "My company had reached a town one day, in whichwe were to play at night, and just as I was getting ready to go to thetheatre, the Duke of Monmouth entered. He was on his way to Sedgemore,and I was forced to join him. My child followed on foot and watched thebattle as it raged. When it was over I could have escaped, had I notcome upon Cora, who was seeking me. I took her up in my arms and washurrying away, when the cavalry of the enemy overtook me and I was madea prisoner."

  The simple story made an impression on all who heard it save theobdurate master. The magistrate asked the slave what he would have donewith his child.

  "Let her stay in the colony until my term of service is ended, then Iwill labor to remunerate any who would keep her."

  At this Hull said he would take the maid, and she might always be nearthe father. All who knew Hull looked with suspicion on the proposition.

  A new-comer had arrived on the scene. This was a young man of about thesame age as the prisoner. He was a wealthy Virginian named RobertStevens, noted for his kindness of heart and charity. He did not arriveon the scene until after the indented slave had been sold; but he soonheard the story of the captive from Sedgemore and his child. RobertStevens' heart at once went out to these unfortunates, and he resolvedon a scheme to make the father practically free.

  "Has the slave been sold?" he asked.

  "He has, and I am the purchaser," answered Hull.

  "How much did you give for him?"

  "Twelve pounds."

  "I will give fifty."

  "He is already sold," repeated Hull exultingly. He despised RobertStevens for his wealth and popularity. To have purchased a slave whomRobert Stevens wanted, was great glory for Hull.

  "Fear not, good man," said Robert to the unfortunate slave. "I havemoney enough to purchase your freedom."

  Unfortunately those words fell on the ears of Thomas Hull, and heanswered:

  "It is the order of the king that all serve their term out, and none beallowed to purchase their freedom."

  "I will give you one hundred pounds for the slave," cried Robert.

  "No."

  "A thousand!"

  "Robert Stevens, for some reason you want this slave restored toliberty."

  "No. Sell him to me, and he shall serve out his term."

  "I understand your plan. You would make his servitude a luxury. Youcannot have the slave for a hundred times the sum you offer. By law, theconvict is fairly mine until he hath fully served his term. I am not soheartless as you deem me. His child can go to my house, where she willbe cared for."

  "No, no, no!" cried the captive, his eyes turned appealingly to RobertStevens. "You take her; you take her. Go with him, Cora."

  The child sprang to the side of Robert Stevens, for already she had cometo dread the man who was her father's master. Hull's face was black withrage. He bit his lips, but said nothing. With his slave, he hurriedhome.

  The name of the slave was George Waters, and he was soon to learn theweight of a master's hand.

  Thomas Hull was the owner of negro slaves, as well as white indentedservants, and he made no distinction between them. George Waters, proud,noble as he was, was set to work with the filthy negroes in the tobaccofields. The half-savage barbarians, with their ignorance and naturallylow instincts, were intended to humiliate the refined gentleman.

  "You is one of us," said a negro. "What am your name?"

  "George Waters."

  "George--George, dat am my name, too," said the negro, leaning on hishoe. "D'ye suppose we is brudders?"

  "No."

  "Well, why is we bofe called George?"

  "I don't know."

  The overseer came along at this moment and threatened them with thelash, if they did not cease talking and attend to their work. Again andagain was the proud George W
aters subjected to indignities, until hecould scarcely restrain himself from knocking Martin, his overseer,down, and selling his life in the defence of his liberty; but heremembered Cora, and resolved to bear taunts and indignities for hersake, until his term of service was ended. His only comfort was that hischild was well cared for.

  He had been a year and a half on the upper plantation of Thomas Hull,and though he had demeaned himself well, and had done the labor of twoordinary men--though he had never uttered a word of complaint, no matterwhat burdens were laid upon him, his natural pride and nobility ofcharacter won the hatred of the overseer. The fellow had a violenttemper and hated George Waters.

  One day, from no provocation at all, he threatened to beat Waters. Theservant snatched the whip from his hand and said:

  "I would do you no harm, sir. I have always performed my tasks to thebest of my ability, and never have I complained; but if you so much asgive me one stroke, I will kill you."

  There was fire in his eye and an earnestness in his voice, which awedthe cowardly overseer; but at the same time they increased his hatred.He resolved to be revenged, and reported to Hull that the slave wasrebellious. Hull permitted George Waters to be tied to a tree by fourstout negroes, whose barbarous natures delighted in such work, and theoverseer laid a whip a dozen times about his bare shoulders. No groanescaped his lips. For three days he lay about his miserable lodgewaiting for his wounds to heal, and meanwhile made up his mind to flyfrom the colony.

  He had heard that a society of Friends, or Quakers, had formed a colonyto the north, which was called Pennsylvania; and he knew that they wouldsuccor a slave. As soon as he was well enough, he stole from a cabin agun, a knife and some ammunition, and set out in the night to find theplantation of Robert Stevens, where Cora was. His escape was discoveredand the overseer, with Thomas Hull, set out in hot pursuit of thefugitive. At dawn of day they came in sight of him in the forest on theLower James River and, being on horseback, gave chase.

  "Keep away! keep back!" cried the fugitive, "or I will not answer forthe consequences," and he brandished his gun in the air. The overseerwas armed with pistols and, drawing one, galloped up to within a hundredpaces of the fugitive and fired, but missed. Quick as thought, GeorgeWaters raised his gun and, taking aim at the breast of his would-beslayer, shot him dead from the saddle.

  The body fell to the ground, and the frightened horse wheeled about andran away. Thomas Hull, who was a coward, awed by the fate of hisoverseer, turned and fled as rapidly as his horse could go.

  Horrified at what he had done, and knowing that death, sure and swift,would follow his capture, George Waters turned and fled down the JamesRiver. Some guardian angel guided his footsteps, for he found himselfone night, almost starved, faint and weak, at the plantation of RobertStevens. George was driven to desperate straits when he accosted thewealthy planter and asked for food. Robert recognized him as the fatherof the little maid whom he had taken to his home as one of his family.

  "I have heard all; you must not be seen," said Robert. Then he conductedhim to an apartment of his large manor house. "Are you hungry?"

  "I am starving."

  Robert brought him food with his own hands and, as he ate, asked:

  "Do you want to see Cora?"

  "May I?"

  "Yes."

  "I am a slave and a--a----"

  "I know what you would say. Do not say it, for you slew only inself-defence."

  "But I will be hanged if found."

  "You shall not be found. Heaven help me, if I shield a real criminalfrom justice; but he who strikes a blow for liberty is worthy of aid."

  After the fugitive had in a measure satisfied his hunger, Robert said:

  "You will need sleep and rest, after which you must prepare for a longjourney."

  "Whither shall I go?"

  "To Massachusetts. I have relatives in Salem, where you will be safe."

  "Safe!"

  He repeated the word as if it were a glorious dream--a vision never tobe realized.

  "Yes, you will be safe; but as you must make the journey through a vastforest, you will need to be refreshed by rest and food."

  The wild-eyed fugitive, with his face haggard as death, seized the armof his benefactor and said:

  "They will come and slay me as I sleep."

  "Fear not, my unfortunate brother, for I will put you in a chamber wherenone save myself shall know of you."

  "And my child?"

  "She shall accompany you to Salem."

  The fugitive said no more. He entrusted everything to the man who hadpromised to save him. He was led up two flights of stairs, when theycame to a ladder reaching to an attic, and they went up this atticladder to a chamber, where there was a narrow bed, with soft, cleansheets and pillows, the first the prisoner had seen in the New World.

  "You can sleep here in perfect security," said Robert. "I will see thatyou are not molested by any one."

  The wayworn traveller threw himself on the bed and fell asleep.

  Stevens went below and told his wife of the fugitive. Ester Stevens wasthe daughter of General Goffe, the regicide, who had been hunted foryears by Charles II. for signing the death warrant of the king's fatherand serving in the army of Oliver Cromwell, and Mrs. Stevens couldsympathize with a political fugitive. They ran some risk in keeping himin their house; but as a majority of the colonists had been in sympathywith the Duke of Monmouth, for James II. had few friends in Virginia andThomas Hull none, their risk was not as great as it might seem.

  The fugitive late next day awoke, and Robert carried his breakfast tohim. The colony was wild with excitement over the escape of an indentedslave and the killing of the overseer. Thomas Hull represented thecrime to be as heinous as possible, to arouse a sympathy for himself anda hatred for the escaped slave. Some people were outspoken in the beliefthat the escaped slave should be killed; others were in sympathy withhim. They reasoned that Hull had been a hard master, and that this poorfellow was no criminal, but a patriot, for which he had been adjudged toten years' penal servitude.

  Many of the searchers came to the mansion house of Stevens; but hemanaged to put them off the track.

  For five days and nights George Waters remained in the attic. On thesixth night Robert Stevens came to him and said:

  "You must now set out on your journey."

  "But Cora--can I see her?"

  "She will accompany you. Here is a suit of clothes more befitting one ofyour rank and station, than the garb of an indented slave." He placed ariding suit with top boots and hat in the apartment. When he had attiredhimself, Robert next brought him some arms, a splendid gun and a braceof pistols of the best make.

  "You may have need of these," said the planter. "You will also findholsters in the saddle."

  "And does Cora know of this?"

  "I have told her all."

  The father shuddered. In the pride of his soul, he remembered that hewas a slave, had felt the lash, and was humiliated.

  Under a wide-spreading chestnut near the planter's mansion, stood threehorses ready saddled. A faithful negro slave was holding them, and thelittle maid, clothed for a long journey, awaited her father's arrival. Afourth horse was near on which were a pack of provisions and a smallcamping outfit.

  The father and child met and embraced in silence, and, had she not felta tear on her face, she would hardly have known that he was so greatlyagitated.

  "We will mount and be far on the journey before the day dawns," saidRobert.

  "Do you go with us?" asked George Waters.

  "Certainly. I know the country and will guide you beyond danger."

  They mounted and travelled all night long. At early dawn, they haltedonly to refresh themselves with a cold breakfast, and pushed on.

  Three days Robert journeyed with them, and then, on the border ofMaryland, he halted and told them of a land now within their reach,where the Quakers dwelt. There they might rest until they were able togo to Massachusetts. He gave a purse of gold to the fa
ther, saying:

  "Take it, and may God be as good to you as he has been to me."

  The fugitive murmured out some words of thanks; but his benefactorwheeled his steed about and galloped away, lest the words of gratitudemight fall on his ears.

  "Let us go on, father," said Cora.

  For days, Cora Waters could never tell how long, they journeyed, untilat last, on the banks of the Delaware, they came upon a small town wheredwelt a people at peace with all the world--the Quakers, and the tiredchild and her father were taken in, given food and shelter, Christiansympathy, and assured of safety.