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JUANITA
A ROMANCE OF REAL LIFE IN CUBA FIFTY YEARS AGO
By MARY MANN
BOSTON D LOTHROP COMPANY
FRAXKLIN AND HAWLEY STREETS
Copyright, 1887, by D. LOTHROP COMPANY.
Electrotyped By C. J. Peters & Sox. Boston-.
BERWICK 4 SMITH, PRINTERS, BOSTON.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGB
I. Africa 7
II. Havana 14
III. The Sale 36
IV. La Consolacio.n 51
V. The Dogs 79
VI. The Marchioness 94
VII. The Dinner ri2
VIII. The Drive 130
IX. JrAXiTA 150
X. Camilla 161
XI. The Chicken-House 169
XII. The Americans 1S3
XIII. Fanchon 196
XIV. The Xew Vear's Hall 204
XV. CoCK-FlGHTlNG 2l8
.XVI. The C.a.ctus. — The Sleeve oe Wind . . . 222
.WII. Pedro and Dolores 235
XVIII. Dona Josefa 245
XIX. La Modestia :^5i
XX. The Turtle-Doves 266
XXI. Parted Families 2S8
XXII. Don Andres 311
S
CONTEA'TS.
XXIII. TuLiTA 323
XXIV. The Fi.iGiir 3:^1
XXV. Sewfng 355
XXVI. Deception 369
XXVII. Consequences 376
XXVIII. Repentance 383
XXIX. Homeward Uound 392
XXX. Dissipation 402
XXXI. The Return 411
XXXII. Cui5A 423
JUANITA:
A ROMANCE OF REAL LIFE IN CUBA FIFTY YEARS AGO.
CHAPTER I.
AFRICA.
In a beautiful valley on the border of a river, about fifty miles from the western coast of Africa, a party of natives had assembled under the shade of a copse of trees to celebrate a rustic wedding. The valley was nearly closed in by a circle of low hills. From one of these summits a stream dashed down and wound its way like a silver serpent, glis- tening in the sun's rays, through meadows, and b}- bosquets of plumed bamboos and heavily laden mango-trees. The feathery, acacia-like foliage of a clump of tamarind-trees shaded the group of figures as they reclined on the bank of the stream, waiting for the decline of the burning tropical sun before they consummated their simple ceremony, which was to be followed by a festive dance, for, like other savage nations, the Africans consecrate all national and social observances by the dance.
War and rapine had never invaded this little valley of peace. It was separated from any other
7
8 AFRICA.
tribe by the hills that surrounded it, and the wants of its unsophisticated inhabitants were amply sup- plied by the ijroductions of nature around them.
The plantain, the fig banana, the orange, and the bread-fruit tree, the mameas or tree-melons, the yam, and innumerable other fruits and vegetables ; the delicate fish of the rushing stream, that shot through the valley with the first impulse from the hills that had given it birth ; the light game found in the woods, and the birds that made the air alive with music, furnished them with all the necessaries of life. Two varieties of dwellings stood in the valley : light bamboo structures, interlaced with cocoa-leaves ; and more solid structures, formed of mud and pebbles, which the sun soon baked, and which were designed for shelter in the rainy sea- son. In these, abundant stores were laid by for future use.
The Ayetans, for so we will call them, from the name of their river, Ayete, had heard stories of invading white men who stole their dark breth- ren from their homes and bore them away on the backs of great birds, with snowy wings ; and, not a great many years before the time of our story, some young men, more enterprising than the rest, had ventured beyond the hills, and were never heard of again. A narrow opening, which the kid- nappers had never espied, wound into the valley between two hills, and the native curiosity of man had led them to explore it. But the Ayetans had
AFRICA. 9
by their seclusion escaped the common fate of the tribes of western Africa thus far.
On this day, with the native taste which charac- terizes the African, they had chosen the prettiest grove in their lovely valley to celebrate the nup- tials of their youthful chief with a maiden he had chosen from the tribe. He was a tall and well formed youth, and she was a lithe and bright-eyed maiden. Labor had not stunted their growth ; but fishing, hunting, and chasing the antelope, had developed their limbs in graceful proportions, and in their simple way they were as happy as savages could be — gentle specimens of savage nature. The older members of the party were resting in the shade ; the younger girls and lads were chasing the innumerable butterflies of all hues and sizes, and pulling off their brilliant wings by way of preparing the more solid parts of these " flying jewels " for what was to be the wedding cake, — a favorite food of the Africans, which was to be made with their bodies and with honey from the wild bees' nests, and cooked over embers that were burning on a little reach of pebbly beach by the river. Groups of little chil- dren were paddling in the edges of the stream or rolling upon the green sward.
A distant shout and the noise of fire-arms sud- denly startled them all from their repose and amusements, and in a few moments, as they stood huddled together, the dreaded white men, of whom
10 AFRICA.
they had heard, followed, alas, by a savage troop of howling negroes, burst into their midst. Then, like frightened deer, they fied. But it was in vain. Their enemies carried the lightning and the thunderbolt in their hands. It was the first sound of fire-arms that had ever assailed the ears of the natives. It proved far more terrific than their imaginations had pictured it. At every flash of that concentrated lightning, and at every peal of that mimic thunder, their companions fell dead to the ground. The rest turned and knelt sup- pliant to these evil gods ; but they were bound hand and foot, and borne away on the backs. of these blaek and white demons — for their own countrymen were there transformed into fiends by the cruelties and bribery of the white men.
Only a few old people and very young children were left in the valley, for such do not survive the horrors of the middle passage.
On this festal day, many of the natives were ornamented with chains and bracelets of the soft gold which was found in the rivers and in the sides of the hills, and which they knew the art of moulding into these decorations. These did not escape the eyes of the kidnappers, who commis- sioned a few of their number to sack the rude habitations and store-houses of the negroes for more booty of a similar kind. But the natives had hoarded little gold. It was only ]:)referred in their eyes to the flowery chain because more
AFRICA. I I
glittering and more permanent. They knew no other value for it. Its discovery, however, doomed the beautiful valley to desolation and still farther carnage, for other parties soon came to inquire for the locality of the gold, pitilessly massacred all the inhabitants that were left, fed upon their stores, and dug into their hill-sides till they had exhausted the supply of the treasure for whose possession they had become the fiends they were.
When the kidnappers were weary of their bur- dens, and knew their prisoners were too much ex- hausted by the torment of their bonds to be able to make any resistance, they unbound their limbs, and, tying them together, led them by the thongs a weary march to a barracoon near the coast. There they were thrust into pits, and earth was shovelled in around them till it reached the chin, and thus they were left till they could be safely embarked. Enough food was given them to sus- tain life, and this they were made to eat whether they wished to do it or not. A guard was sta- tioned over them to prevent any sound from issuing from their mouths, for these were deeds of darkness, that must not be exposed. Some com- passionate ear might hear and betray, for English vessels were occasionally nearing the coast for this very purpose. Straw and other rubbish was piled up in the corners of the barracoon, ready to be scattered over the heads of these poor victims
1 2 AFRICA.
if 'any symptoms of approaching danger were scented in the air.
One wretched night and long day passed before the negroes were released from their agonizing positions. They were then huddled, in the dead of night, between the decks of a vessel, where they were laid side by side. There they were left to move about what little they could, but if they endeavored to thrust their hc'ads out of the loop- holes for a fresh breath of air, they were beaten back from without, such was the kidnapper's fear of capture. Occasionally, when out at sea, a few at a time were allowed to come upon deck. Every day their dead were drawn out and thrown into the sea, and thus they crossed the ocean to the Spanish islands.
We will not dwell upon the countless sufferings, the impotent ravings of the middle passage. From this earthly hell they were glad to be set on any shore, to breathe again the sweet breath of Hea- ven, to look at one another by the sun's light, to count over the ranks of kindred and friends to see who were left. All the sins of selfishness that had developed themselves in the hours of suffering were forgotten and forgiven. Hatred was felt now for the oppressor only, and they still had the privilege of uttering their common sentiments to each other without being comprehended by their tyrants. Every natural sign of hostility must be suppressed, but the burning word of their native
AFRICA.
13
dialect still remained to them, and this gift of untrammelled speech was the only earthly boon they now possessed. They no longer owned themselves. Who could tell how long their simple souls would be their own .' — for it is not probable that they ever consciously realized the possession, or would be likely to retain it, amid the temptations and degradations of bondage.
Hitherto they hadnvorshipped an unknown God as the birds do, by song and dance, and by happi- ness — but had not their God forsaken them .''
CHAPTER II.
HAVANA.
It was a lovely day, of golden sunshine and balmy air, in the Island City.
On the veranda of a spacious court-yard, en- closed on all sides by the mansion of Don Miguel Arbrides, sat some ladies, earnestly engaged in conversation.
The setting sun was shining upon a mass of brilliant clouds that rose to the zenith, and their reflection threw a rosy tint upon the marble walls of the mansion and the shrubbery within the court, while a sparkling fountain threw up its spray from a clear basin in the centre, giving one a sense of coolness that was most refreshing after the heats of a tropical day.
Below the veranda, or piazza, which ran all round the building, were the domestic offices. They were unusually spacious for a city, for Don Miguel was a successful slaver, and, in addition to his household dependents, often had a supply of slaves in preparation for the market. He had just returned from a profitable voyage, and the numer-
14
HA VANA.
15
ous people seen below were some of the fruits. He owned extensive slave-pens in the country, within fifty miles of the city ; and from these depositories small gangs of bozals, as the newly arrived negroes were called, were from time to time brought into the city by night, and placed in this domestic slave-pen, where they were attended by a skilful physician, who prescribed for the maladies incurred on. the voyage ; and when such a gang was pronounced by him in good condition, it was sent to the slave market in the vicinity of the city, and few slaves there sold brought such good prices. Formerly slave-pens were within the city walls, where medical men attended regu- larly, but since the treaty of 18 17 with England, which made all slaves contraband who were brought to the island, it was safer to land them upon some unfrequented part of the coast. Thence, so many as were not disabled were marched, chained together, to such plantations as required recruits and had engaged them beforehand, and even to the villages of the interior where they were sold, for no troublesome English commis- sioner resided in the country, and the one in the city took no pains to inform himself of disobedi- ence to the treaty, knowing that the Captain General received so much a head from the slaves, and was therefore specially blind and deaf upon that subject, which made his commission practi- cally abortive. The usual form through which he
1 6 HAVANA.
passed when he did confiscate a cargo, was to throw the captain into prison, from which, after a few months, he would be sent into the country by a physician, on a plea of ill health : and, very pos- sibly, a week or two later the commissioner would meet him in the street, just ready to re-embark in the employ of some other slaver, like Don Miguel Arbrides, who was wealthy enough to pay the fine and all collateral expenses. It was not often that a wealthy slaver commanded his own vessel, but Don Miguel, though a pleasant gentleman at home, had practical proclivities, and liked the excitement of the chase ; and even looked forward to taking his own son with him when he should be of suit- able age. But of this anon. Less popular or less wealthy men would not have brought such slaves into their own places of residence within the city, for fear of inconvenient consequences ; but who wished to give offence to such a man by saying that those were cniancipados, and had a right to their freedom .'' Not the people who visited his splendid mansion and partook of his lavish hospi- talities! In such communities it is not considered good manners to complain of one's neighbors and acquaintances. The enslaving of fellow-men who are defenceless is a trifle in comparison.
As far as practicable, such slaves were sold into the country, for in the city they might in time learn of their rights from the free negroes, of which Ha- vana contains some forty thousand, and every addi-
HA VANA.
17
tion adds to the constantly impending fear of insurrection.
In one corner of the court-yard, a knot of people, who, apparently, had no part in the domestic ser- vice, were gathered together and earnestly engaged in conversation in a language which no one else could understand. The slaves of the household occasionally mingled with them, but evidently could not communicate with them. A beautiful little boy, son of Don Miguel, might be seen threading his way amongst them, and giving them oranges and little articles of confectionery.
Tulita, the dark-browed Spanish maiden, was the very embodiment of loveliness and goodness. No tenderer heart ever beat than hers for her friends, for her pet dog, her birds, for the poor padre who begged at the door, for the sick negro who was consigned to the domestic hospital of her father ; but she had never questioned the pro- priety of his seeking slaves on the African coast, or selling them at home. Her father was a kind and tender father, though his wealth was acquired by the theft and sale of his fellow-beings. Indeed, it was a jubilee all through the family circle, which was large and well-to-do, when Don Miguel re- turned from his voyages, for his return was the signal for many a festivity, which he specially enjoyed and liberally promoted ; and he was always well furnished with the soft golden chains and trinkets made on the coast, which he distrib-
1 8 HAVANA.
iited among his friends. He did not own any plantations, for his occupation was on the high seas ; but there were many on which he was a welcome guest ; and when he was at home in winter, the season for visiting, Tulita passed brill- iant and joyful days in the country.
Miss Wentworth had gone to visit a friend in Cuba with the northern feeling upon the subject of slavery. At that time, it might be said to be rather a negative feeling. It was before the agitation of the question of human rights had stirred the foundations of society. The contro- versy between abolitionists and colonizationists had just begun. She knew that she was going to a land of slavery, but she had no expectation of being plunged into the midst of it. In her child- hood she had heard a respectable old negress, who lived in the neighborhood of her mother's house, tell the story of the abolition of slavery in Massa- chusetts, when she had emerged from a mild form of that institution into the enjo)ment of perfect freedom and ownership of self, and she told it elo- quently but without entering into the details of cruelty and injustice. A respectable community of colored people resided in the town, and Miss Wentworth had seen them, arrayed in their best at- tire, congregate together on the anniversary of the day of emancipation, which they celebrated with dances, sometimes with revels, which were laughed at but not sympathized with. She had known
HA VANA.
19
excellent persons of color in domestic service. She had helped to teach their children to read, and had gathered them in the Sunday-school. She knew that their mothers were afraid to trust them out after dark, for fear of the kidnapper ; and this had been her most painful knowledge, for she knew slavery was not far off, and that that was a real danger. She knew the colored people were not allowed to ride in public conveyances, and had indignantly sympathized with her own nurse, who was obliged to pay largely for being carried into the country, in a private conveyance, to see her old mother. She had shuddered over oc- casional accounts of the horrors of the middle passage, but her mother had tenderly guarded her children from the knowledge of extreme cruelties, and her impression was that they were excep- tional. Indeed, slavery was a name rather than a reality to her. The pecuniary interest northern people had in southern plantations — often the ownership of them — made it invidious to dwell upon the subject, and sealed the eyes of hu- manity, down to the time when Garrison boldly attacked the monster crime. Even long after that, it was considered not genteel to say too much about it, — all which condition of things threw dust in the eyes of society. Col- onization had excited some interest in the be- nevolent, but the general voice condemned any suggestion of immediate measures of emanci-
20 HA VANA.
pafion, or relief for the oppressed. There was no faith in human nature large enough to com- pass the idea that emancipation from bondage would call forth any but the baser passions of revenge and indiscriminate destruction. It yet remained to be seen that the long enslaved would receive freedom on their bended knees, and with songs of thanksgiving. It was supposed that, like the Anglo-Saxon race which had enslaved them, they would turn and rend their oppressors. That they can feel gratitude and affection for kind- ness among their oppressors when in bondage, did not suggest the inference that they would be much better, instead of v.^orse, for the boon of liberty.
A few days' residence in a slave-country had rudely waked Miss Wentworth from her compar- ative insensibility to the fact of slavery. She now saw the degradation and helplessness of a class of men and women whom she had hitherto looked upon practically as almost fabulous. She learned with a shudder that she was residing in a house of a slave-catcher, — a class of men whom she had previously thought of as the embodiment of all that is brutal and demoniac in human nature, but one who was, in fact, respected in society, outwardly like his fellow-men, and pos- sessing many of the qualities of a man and a gen- tleman. She had accidentally learned that day that the slaves below were about to be sold at
HA VAN A. 2 1
auction, and she had inquired, with startling earnestness, whence they came and whither they were to be sent.
Tulita, with all simplicity, had revealed all the arcana, which those more conversant with non- slave-holding communities would have concealed. The wife of Don Miguel had visited American cities before her marriage, and had some glimpses of the state of feeling on the subject ; but courtesy to a guest, and that guest a young lady, had pre- vented her feelings from being hurt, or even roused by it. She was now for the first time, as a mother, made aware of what the feeling might be ; for her husband had already intimated that he should take his son with him, when a little older, to initiate him into the business. Her maternal instinct made her sympathize with Miss Wentworth's ill concealed disgust and indignation, but she wisely concealed it, in the fear of her hus- band's displeasure. Nothing makes a slave-holder so angry as any question of his rights, as he calls them.
"Did your father go for them himself.''" asked Miss Wentworth, her blood boiling within her at the thought of the courtesies she had received at his hands.
"Ah, yes, indeed ! " said Tulita, "and they will be so much better off now. They were all ill when they came, but they are all well now."
" Poor creatures ! " exclaimed Aliss Wentworth ;
22 HAVANA.
" they were brought forcibly away from their homes, I suppose."
" Yes, but papa says they are taken from the most cruel slavery on the coast and brought here to a Christian land. They were all baptized a few days ago, and now can have Christian burial when they die," and Tulita crossed herself devoutly.
" A Christian land ! " exclaimed Miss Went- worth, with an emphasis that brought a surprised look into Tulita's face. "But there would be no slavery on the coast if there were no slave-traders."
"Oh, yes, there would!" said Tulita. _" The African tribes make slaves of their enemies, and it is a mercy to them to bring them here ! These people whom you see below are much more civ- ilized than usual. They were all baptized with Christian names the other day, and Carlito and I chose the names. They were so pleased, and all spoke their names very well. None of the rest understand their language, so we can't find out much about them. Carlito spent a great deal of time teaching them their names, and he says mamma Francisca thinks those two you see talk- insf toecether are lovers, and he has been teasin.g papa to let them be married."
"They will not know what it means, perhaps, but It may keep them from being separated," and with these words Carlito, who had climbed up, threw himself over the balustrade, and climbed down from the gallery like a squirrel.
HAVANA. 23
"Separated!" repeated Miss Wentworth, the truth beginning to dawn upon her. " Are families separated to be sold ? " she almost gasped out.
"Oh, yes, to be sure; that is, sometimes," said Tulita, for the first time thinking anything about it. " It does seem cruel, but papa says they don't care."
"Not care!"
"Oh, they are not like us, you know."
"I do not know any such thing! — they must have human affections if they are human beings ! "
"I should hardly think so," said Tulita, "for papa says they are in the habit of killing their own children."
"Probably to save them from slavery," said Miss Wentworth. " I like them all the better for it."
"But they do it in Africa — it is an African vice."
"Did you not say they were victims of slavery there, too .'' Probably the vice does not exist except in connection with slavery. It is too unnatural a one. Animals love their young and defend them frantically when attacked, without taking any precautions for themselves; — it is impossible that human beings should be below the animals in that respect. Nothing could make me believe it. I know the colored people of our own country. They are below the generality of whites in education or position ; but many of them are
24 //^ FA/VA.
got)d people, and some of them quite respectable in intellect. I am sure of it, for I have taught some of them to read."
The conversation, to the great relief of Tulita, who was beginning to sec what she had never seen before, was here interrupted by the entrance of Padre Jean, a jovial, benevolent-looking Irish indi- vidual, in a Franciscan garb, whom Tulita greeted very warmly and introduced to Miss Wentworth.
"And how is the Seiiorita, your mamma? and how is my boy Carlito.''" he inquired.
Tulita told him how he was engaged.
"Foolish boy!" said he, "is papa going to indulge him ? Where are his lovers ? I suppose they will only quarrel the sooner if they arc mar- ried, but I will marry them if Don Miguel says so," and the fat priest laughed merrily.
At this moment Carlito came scrambling over the balustrade in great excitement. " Oh, where is papa ? I want to see him this minute ! "
'•Carlito, you have not spoken to Father Jean."
" Oh, how do you do, Father Jean .■' but where is papa .'' "
" I think he is at home ; but what is the matter .'' "
Papa evidently heard the demand ; for he now entered, asking Carlito what he wanted in such haste.
" My boy is crazy over some negroes we have below, whom no one can understand, so he cannot gratify his curiosity about them."
HA VANA. 25
"Oh, papa! let me tell you. Juacomo has just come back, and he says they came from his country, and he can understand them — and mamma Fran- cisca was right ! they are lovers, they were just going to be married when they were carried off. Juacomo says he is Dolores' uncle ; he came away a great many years ago, when she was a little girl. He says Pedro is the king ; and oh, papa, he did so to him," — making obeisance. "That is the way they do to their kings when they speak to them. I asked him if they would like to be married now, and he said they would. Oh, papa ! won't you let Padre Jean marry them } Padre Jean, will you marry them .-* "
" Oh, yes, if papa says so, I should like to marry them. But Juacomo must tell them what it means, for they will not understand what I say ; perhaps Juacomo can tell you how they marry people in the place where he came from."
Carlito was over the balustrade and out of sight in a moment, shouting, "I will ask him."
He soon returned, breathless.
" Juacomo says they jump over a stick, and some- body takes a long shawl or a string, and winds it round them, and then they dance together. Oh, how pretty it will be ! papa, you will let them be married, won't you.''"
" I think you had better have w^aited till you found out before you went quite so far, my boy. I suppose they know all about it now, and Juacomo
26 HAVANA.
will be greatly disappointed if it is not done, but this is the last time you must ask such a thing, Carl," and Don Miguel looked more grave than was his wont.
Carlito did not wait to discuss the matter, but, securing the permission, he was soon out of sight again, and came up the other way, dragging the two astonished negroes after him, followed by Juacomo and a crowd of men and women, with a stick and a long scarf, which he had obtained from one of the house-serv^ants.
" Ah, these are some of the people I baptized the other day. Lend me your ring. Miss Tulita, and I will soon have them married."
Juacomo laid the stick upon the floor, and held the scarf ready. After Padre Jean's ceremony and the placing of the ring, at a signal from Juacomo, the two took hold of hands and jumped over the stick, and Juacomo wound the scarf around them. At this moment, the negroes present, with one ac- cord, clapped their hands, which was a signal for the dance ; but Don Miguel, with one wave of his hand, signified to Juacomo that that could not be allowed, and they descended to the court below, where instantly the whole crowd threw themselves in wild excitement into the most violent contor- tions, accompanied with measured clapping of hands and wild screaming, and for a few moments it was as if pandemonium was let loose ; but this again was of brief duration, for as soon as the
HA VAN A.
27
order could be communicated it was hushed, and they were all driven to their quarters and locked in. Don Miguel was undoubtedly aware that he could not go too far in his violations of- legal pro- visions ; and, although it seemed hardly possible that any amount of noise in that closed court could be heard over the incessant and uninterrupted din of the city, it could not be risked. But the few moments in which nature had resumed its sway over these savages made a fearful impression upon Miss Wentworth. It seemed to her that in those screams she heard the long suppressed agony burst forth, which the new surroundings of these un- happy people had pent up within them. With an excuse she left the company, and Tulita followed her. For the first time the latter had realized that the African slave had sentiments like her own, for marriage is not promoted by the slave-holders, and this was the first time she had ever witnessed such a scene. Dona Lucia mastered her tears, as she had often done before, and Padre Jean was left to take counsel with the elders.
Francisca was summoned to put Carlito to bed, when he gave his father the good-night kiss.
"This will never do," said Don Miguel. "Let us have no more such fooling, Carlito, or I shall never let you go down among the people again."
Carlito had never before heard a word of reproof from his father, and evidently was not acquainted with that face in anger. It was indeed a changed
28 HAVANA.
face. This was the slaver, and Dona Lucia shud- dered when she saw the expression of which his countenance was capable.
The friar tried to turn the conversation, but it was impossible to guide it into a gay or happy channel, and he soon took his leave. His was not the mission to turn the sinner from his ways, and he regretted that he had called that day.
So great was Dona Lucia's dread of the subject of Carlito's future, that she commanded herself sufficiently to sit down to her piano, which, she knew by experience, could soothe her husband's rufifled feelings ; for her playing was of no ordinary merit, and he had a Spaniard's love of music.
Throwing herself into the luxurious boutacle that stood by her window, long and deep was Miss Wentworth's reverie. Her life had been one of many experiences, though she was not advanced in years. She had been a daughter, a sister, a friend, and had felt all these relations to society keenly. She had buried parents, brother and sisters, friends. She had seen the loved go astray, and had labored long to conduct them into the right path again, sometimes without success.
She had loved nobly, and not in vain ; but she had seen the object of her affections die an early death, while in the prime of life and usefulness.
All the resources of a cultivated intellect, of high principles, of sanctified affections, had been called into requisition to enable her to bear up
HA VAN A.
29
under these calamities, which deepen the character they do not discourage, and set the world's shows in their true light. She thought she had sym- pathized with the oppressed of all climes and of all times ; but her home had been in the freest nation of the earth, and in the most advanced portion of that nation. Her forefathers had been prominent in service and suffering for the cause of human rights, and she had been nursed upon the stories of these sacrifices and these sufferings. She now felt as if oppression and slavery had been mere words to her. Within a few hours, the deepest crime against man had been brought forcibly to her notice, and the perpetrators of it had an hon- ored position in society, practised the common social virtues, and would undoubtedly feel insulted if their characters were called in question. Could she stay where all distinction between good and evil seemed to be obliterated .'' At first she thought not.
" How could Isabella have consigned me to the keeping of such a family, even for a few days ? " she asked herself.
But a second thought suggested that she had no right to lose this opportunity of observation, for was there not the same plague-spot fester- ing in the heart of her own country } The noble Follen, the saintly Channing, were her friends, and from this standpoint she comprehended the feeling that had thrown them into the ranks of
30
HA VANA.
that small and contemned party which was labor- ing at home to waken society to a full conception of its duty upon this momentous theme.
Before her feelings had regained any measure of composure, Tulita entered her room to invite her to drive to the public square, to listen to the music of the black band, that played from nine to ten every evening in the square before the Governor's palace. Glad to receive any relief from her present feelings, she accepted the invitation, and stepped into Tulita's beautiful qidtrin, which accompanied that of her father and mother.
Governor Tacon had been but a short time in office, but among his many improvements in the outer world of Cuban life was the transformation of the city of Havana from the most dangerous to the safest city in the world. Two years before, no man could walk the city after nightfall with safety. A powerful banditti held it in bondage. Murders were of common occurrence, and, the moment there was any disturbance in the streets, every inhabitant who had a shelter rushed under cover, and locked the doors, for the sword that hung over the city was the fear of insurrection. Mem- bers of the banditti would call the householders to the door, and demand enormous sums of money, on the penalty of shooting on the spot, or by threats which the victims knew too well would be fulfilled, and that none would dare to complain or
HA VATSFA. ^ j
to testify against the murderers. The victims of assassination in the streets were not picked up by their friends, because the judiciary was so corrupt that legal action would soon impoverish the richest man. If robberies were committed in the ware- houses and shops, the owners would carefully obliterate all vestiges of the deed the next day, for the same reason. It was less costly to lose in the one way than in the other, for litigation might be prolonged for years. If a man was thrown into prison, the chances were that he would linger there all his life, his expenses charged to his estate or those of his friends. Not long before Tacon's administration, a wealthy man was assassinated by mistake, in the street, taken for another man. The family claimed his body of the authorities, and the litigation continued until his widow was obliged to buy up all the papers, at great cost, to save herself wherewith to live. No decent woman dared to set her foot upon the pavement except to step into her volante, and an evening ride must be well escorted to be safe. Foreigners sometimes infringed upon these customs, but only in emer- gencies, and then at the risk of losing caste unless their infringements were pardoned by Spajiish courtesy as sins of ignorance.
But all this was changed. The square before the Governor's house, which was formerly a quag- mire whenever it rained, was now laid down in what looked like polished marble, a cement made
3-
HA VANA.
of the lime of the country and the red soil, and pounded, while still wet, to a fine consistency. This platform, splendidly illuminated, was filled between the hours of nine and ten with crowds of ladies, of all ranks, who owned or could hire a volante. They paraded the stone floors arrayed in their most elegant attire, sparkling with jewels, and unbonneted, as in the ball-room, listening to the divinest strains of Italian and German music, played by the matchless band, whose fame is world-wide. I say listening, for the decorum of Spanish society is to be quiet, instead of talkative, even in their dances, and especially when music is the entertainment.
The banditti was suppressed. Tacon's rules were imperative. No man of any rank was al- lowed to be in the streets after nine o'clock with a weapon of any kind. The espionage of the Gov- ernor bordered upon the miraculous. It extended even to the villages and plantations of the inte- rior, and every one who was ready to keep order breathed freely and enjoyed life.
An ancient tree, which had stood in the square, and had the reputation of being the tree under which Columbus is said to have reposed, and which was very dear to the Habaneros, was ruth- lessly removed by Tacon, to make way for his platform ; all men stood breathless before his de- crees. He had a large standing army at his beck, and exercised his despotic power without regard
HA VANA.
33
even to the remonstrances of his nobility, which had hitherto been lawless.
Nothing could be more in consonance with the feelings of Miss Wentworth than the impassioned strains of Bellini's " Pirata," which was at that mo- ment the favorite music of the Habaneros, per- formed every night at the opera by the Pedrotti, and reproduced on every musical instrument in the isl- and, but chiefly and most marvellously by the black band of the city troops, who had no other occupation in time of peace than to improve their music. This band was composed of colored free- men, many of whom enter the profession of music, and in whose ranks have appeared composers of music which has been played throughout the mu- sical world.
Every noise is hushed in that great city while the four bands of the regiment play in the four respective squares. The muleteer arrests his steps and sits m profound silence upon his willing animal during the hour ; the calescro * checks his horses to catch the near or distant strain. No bell is struck. The crynig child is shut within the house. The barking dog is soothed or muzzled, for Tacon has decreed that it shall be so ; and this decree, added to the love of music in the southern heart, hushes every sound, as in former days the matin or vesper-bell arrested all worldly pursuits and turned every thought heavenward.
* Volante-driver.
34 HA VANA.
. Such holy pauses in life are of inestimable worth amid the din of cities, where it is so diffi- cult to turn the mind from the world and its pleasures and strifes. But, like all other religious observances, the vesper prayer ceased at the time when the revolutions in Spain produced anarchy and misrule in the colonies. The Sunday morn- ing mass would probably have followed, but the custom of going from that to the cock-fight kept up the observance. A quarter of an hour in the church and the rest of the day at the cock-fight ! This is the Havana Sunday, and, indeed, the custom is the same all over the island. Men are apt at times of political revolutions to think lib- erty means license ; and here the undevout, once liberated from the pressure of public opinion, never returned to his idols, and national religion was at an end.
But I wander from the scene I was describing. When the clock struck ten, the music ceased, the company ascended their carriages, and in half an hour or less the square was empty, and the natural sounds of the city life resumed their sway.
Thus far Tacon had made himself respected as a just though a severe ruler. None dared to dis- obey openly, not even the hitherto privileged class, the orders of Castilian and sugar nobility. The last mentioned class was composed of those sugar-planters who had acquired sufficient wealth
HAVANA. 35
to buy titles from the mother-country. The sugar-plantations cannot be confiscated for debt. This bounty upon titles robbed the island of that wealth which should have been expended for its improvement, and up to that day there were not even high-roads upon it.
Of late, the new Governor had given some indi- cations that he was no respecter of persons if any one interfered with his plans ; but privileged classes find it difficult to realize that they are amenable even to wholesome laws. So corrupt is society in this respect, whether in despotic Spain or in our own country of boasted freedom, that in both, in spite of the popular cry against rank, the wealthy and the powerful are safer from the earthly consequences of sin than the poor and lowly.
CHAPTER III.
THE SALE.
Early on the morning of the clay after the wedding, as Carlito called it, the doomed party emerged from their quarters under Don Miguel's proud mansion, neatly but coarsely arrayed, washed, combed, and ready for the sacrifice. Bozals are preferred on many accounts to older residents, particularly on plantations, where they learn less of the rights of slaves than in the cities. These rights, according to Spanish law (violated by custom), are many, and, in some respects, humane. Still less would they be liable in the country to learn that they were in truth free men.
After recovering from the effects of the terri- ble voyage, they were fresh and unimpaired in strength. The exposures of field labor on the plantations, and of sugar-making in the mills, abridge negro life very much in the Spanish colo- nies. But both coffee and sugar planters have concluded that it is cheaper to work gangs to death, and then replace them by new purchases, than to take care of their health as they do of that of their cattle.
36
THE SALE. 37
The Ayetans knew not on this day what was to be their fate. No freemasonry had enabled them to learn it from the slaves of the household, whose grave looks when they parted from the new-com- ers were only explicable on the common ground of social sympathy. Juacomo had evidently not told them anything. The experiment would have been too dangerous for himself, and of no use to them. The comfortable quarters, the medical treatment, the good food, the kindness of the children — for Tulita, as well as Carlito, had often visited them, laden with sugar-plums and fruit — had restored them not only to health, but to some measure of good spirits. Don Miguel was still an object of terror, for, though he had apparently released them from the barbarous treatment they were subjected to on the African coast, they knew him to be the presiding spirit of the vessel of torture that had borne them across the ocean. Before the family had risen, the whole party, to the number of forty, was marched under escort to a place on the edge of the city, where they were exposed for inspection during the day, to be sold at even-tide, at a public auction. Here sat, or stood, or walked about, men, women, and children of all ages — infants at mothers' breasts, stalwart youths, athletic maidens, old men, boys, middle- aged men. Some were barely covered with a scant garment ; others were neatly attired ; some were ornamented with trinkets ; but all looked sad
28 THE SALE.
and apprehensive. Tearful mothers clasped their little ones to their bosoms as if for the last time ; husbands and wives exchanged words which might be their last ; youthful sons and daughters clung lovingly to the sides of their mothers, from whom they for the first time feared separation. The more attractive were the daughters, the more in- tense were the fears of the mothers, who scanned with agonizing penetration the countenances of those who came to buy.
Dolores and Pedro had left aged parents in their native valley, and knew nothing of their sub- sequent fate. They had left brothers and sisters on the coast where they had landed, for when detailed for the city there was no consultation respecting kindred, but thus far they had each other, and while together they were not utterly desolate.
New parties continued to come in in the course of the day, and these remained there without food or means of rest till late in the afternoon. Many of them were evidently bozals, but others might be known by their dress and language to be either Creoles or long residents.
Some of these latter were unruly servants, who could no longer be trusted in the city, from the greater facilities it afforded for disorder and even for escape. Others were slaves, who, by their intel- ligence and thrift, had been hired out by their masters, and, after having completed the tasks as-
THE SALE.
39
signed them, had earned nearly money enough to purchase their freedom, which can be done in Cuba for five hundred dollars. To prevent this consummation, they had been despoiled of their hard earnings, and were now to be sold into the country, separated from all they loved, to toil in the fields and be again " broken in." No disgrace is more keen to a well trained and accomplished household slave than to be made a field hand. This mode of treatment quells rebellious spirits if any human measures can do it.
The hour at length came, and terror and heart- sick despair took possession of many a bosom that had long been trembling with vague apprehension. Dolores and Pedro saw mothers part with nursing babes, who were given into the rough keeping of banditti-looking men, to be conveyed they knew not where ; daughters who were sold to the high- est bidder for their comeliness, and sons who were to be sent to distant provinces for their manly independence, which made them dangerous fellow- citizens. Wives were separated from their hus- bands, the aged from all youthful supporters. The bozals could understand the natural language of grief, terror, and despair, and when Dolores and Pedro were placed upon the stand and examined like fattened beasts in a stall, the blackness of darkness came upon them, too, illumined indeed by one ray of hope, which a few moments' time served to quench in eternal night.
40
THE SALE.
" Dolores and Pedro ! husband and wife, " said the slave-dealer, "to be sold together — young and strong — healthy bozals — just married — hear ! "
" Whom do you belong to ? " said -a purchaser, rudely seizing Dolores by the chin, and jerking her bent head towards him.
Pedro made one step forward, his eyes flashing fire and defiance, but a cutting lash across the face sent him reeling and bloody to the back of the platform, where he was seized and bound hand and foot. A scream of agony from Dolores as he disappeared from her sight was the parting sound that rang in Pedro's ears long after he was con- veyed from her presence. Not even a momentary sympathy was elicited from the crowd. Such demonstrations of human feeling are too common in such scenes to attract any notice, and the by-standers only crowded nearer, to lose nothing of the spectacle, thus blocking up the street.
A volante drew up suddenly, to avoid riding over the people. Dolores caught sight of Carlito's sweet countenance, and stretched out her arms to him with a supplicating cry, which made the slave- dealer turn to look in the direction of her eye. He immediately recognized Don Miguel, to whom he lifted his hat respectfully.
" Oh, papa ! there is Dolores all alone ! — Where can Pedro be ? Do you think he is sold without her .? "
THE SALE. 41
" I am afraid so, my boy ; but we cannot help it now."
" Oh, papa, perhaps you can, if you ask that man. Do ask him, papa."
" He is doubtless taken away before this. It is of no use."
" But, papa, I think it was Dolores that screamed so just as we drove up — perhaps he was only just carried away."
"Hush, boy. Drive on. — Rascal ! why did you come round this way .'' "
" Oh, papa, Juacomo came this way because the troops blocked up the other street — don't you know } He tried hard to go the other way."
" Yes, I remember, but let us get out of it as quick as possible — turn round, if there is no other way — mamma does not like to be sitting here."
Carlito turned to his mother, whose kind eyes were blinded with tears of compassion. She begged him to be still,
Carlito always obeyed his mother, and sat down. The crowd gave way and they drove on ; when Dolores, who had stood in an attitude of intense hope and expectation, saw this last earthly resource fail, she fell senseless to the ground, with another wild scream.
Carlito stopped his ears, and hid his face in his mother's lap. The volante turned a corner, and whirled them into the Paseo. Tulita and Miss Wentworth, who were immediately behind, had
42
THE SALE.
with bitter tears witnessed the whole scene, but
Tulita had checked the impulsive movement of Miss Went worth, who started from her seat to add her voice of supplication to Dolores' and Carlito's. Tulita knew too well that it would be of no avail.
The Pasco, which was the object of the drive, is a shaded avenue of several rows of trees, in which the Havana ladies take the air and the fresh at nightfall, beautifully dressed, and their male friends and cavaliers walk by the volantes as they slowly wend their way, enjoying their society. Intercourse is so restricted by forms that there is little free interchange between men and unmarried women, who must meet the opposite sex under the superintendence of their mothers or elderly female friends, if they wish to preserve a fair rep- utation. These guarded interviews are eagerly sought.
There were no handsomer quitrins on the Paseo than those of Tulita and her mother. The show of dress, which was of the richest quality, the ladies unbonneted, which is the style in Havana, and often covered with jewels, would have been a fair one to Helen at any other time ; but she only looked upon it then as we do upon any scene that offers itself to the eye under over- mastering emotions-^ mechanically ; and it was even a relief to her to be at last whirled home.
When they emerged from the gay scene, it was
THE SALE.
43
illuminated by one of those gorgeous sunsets so often seen in that latitude ; but, by the time they reached home, the sudden twilight, which is an equally striking feature, had succeeded, and all was dark and gloomy as they ascended the long flight of steps, silent and sad.
Don Miguel scarcely joined the evening circle. Miss Wentworth's presence was oppressive to him. As they sat upon the veranda in the cool of the evening, Carlito climbed into his mother's lap, and said : —
"I am never going to sea with papa."
"Why not.?" said Don Miguel, who was pacing the veranda, and heard this half whisper.
" I should not like to bring people away from home to be sold."
" Not if they were all the happier for it } "
" How can that be, papa .'' "
" Because they are always fighting in their own country. They are savages, and make prisoners of each other, and are very cruel to each other. There are no wars here, and Padre Jean has bap- tized them all with a Christian name, and now they can be good Catholics, and be buried in holy ground when they die."
" But they can't understand what Padre Jean reads to them out of his book."
"They will learn by and by."
" But nobody can tell them what it means, be- cause nobody can speak their language."
44
THE SALE.
. "Perhaps they will find some one, just as they found Juacomo."
" Papa, do you know I found Juacomo crying, when he was washing Rosillo ? I never saw a man cry before. He was thinking of Dolores," and Carlito burst into a wail of sorrow.
" Let us not talk any more about Dolores. Think how happy Francisca is when she is saying her prayers. By and by some one will teach Dolores, as Tulita teaches Francisca." And Don Miguel paced away, and turned the corner of the house.
Carlito sobbed long and convulsively. It was his bed-time, and, as soon as his mother had soothed him, Francisca was summoned to put him to bed. His mother soon followed them, and, when she sat down on his little canopied tent, he rested his head upon her knee and said : —
" Mamma, I mean to go and live in Miss Went- worth's country ; Tulita says there are no slaves there. I won't live in a place where people are sold ! " And he burst into another paroxysm.
At last nature triumphed, and the weary, heart- stricken child fell asleep.
Tulita had stolen to the piano, to change the current of talk, if not of thought, and played some sweet strains, for she could not find her voice to sing, till the carriages came to the door for the evening drive to the Governor's square.
THE SALE.
45
The brilliant scene that formed the accompani- ment to the music passed before Miss Went- worth's eyes as a pageant. She could only look upon its attractions as bought by blood and tears. Again she listened to the despairing wail of Imo- gen, which only by the refinement of its agony silenced for the moment the memory of Dolores' wild screams.
The barricaded street again obliged them to make a circuit, but Juacomo made it in a different direction, and gave Miss Wentworth an opportu- nity of seeing the noble cathedral by moonlight. Its architectural beauty seemed to her the only true worship that was likely to rise from such a desecrated spot of earth. She did not know then that the convent beneath it was filled with the friars and their families, or that the very sem- blance of celibacy was dispensed with by the colo- nial priesthood.
As they approached the public stocks, in their circuit, the appalling sound of the lash startled her ear. She almost sprang from the carriage, but Tulita held her firmly, and said, by way of explanation : —
" It is not the slave stocks ; it is some punish- ment given to those who go out armed after nine o'clock. It is a police regulation, which makes everything safe."
As they passed the spot, they saw a carriage drawn up before the stocks, into which the form
46
THE SALE.
qf a young man was lifted by the calesero and footman.
"It is the volante of the Marquis of Carova! What can it mean ? " whispered Tulita. " It looked like Jose himself, but it cannot be. It frightens me to think of it ! "
Jose was the son of the Marquis of Carova, Tulita had but half an hour before pointed him out as the favorite cavalier of the young ladies, not only of his own rank, but of a still lower one, in which he visited unsanctioned by his father.
The young marquis expectant was a handsome and talented Spaniard, possessed of every grace and accomplishment that makes youth captivating; but his father was poor, though titled, which made it difficult for the son to ally himself to one of equal rank. He had that evening been very atten- tive to a young citizen on the platform, whose mother had long had her eye upon the young marquis, wishing to purchase his title with the wealth which had been hoarded up for that end so desirable to a Habanero. The young lady's beauty and accomplishments were such as to excite the admiration of all who saw her : and as the young cavalier walked by the side of her volante, he was challenged by a sentinel, who inquired if he was armed. With the presumption of his class, he an- swered defiantly, not stooping to a falsehood, and the sentinel collared him, not suspecting his rank in such company.
THE SALE.
47
The young nobleman drew from his breast the knife that had betrayed him, but was instantly dis- armed and hurried to the stocks, where the thirty lashes were administered, decreed by recent law as the punishment for carrying arms after nine o'clock. In vain he had protested his rank and its immunities. Tacon's orders were not to be questioned ; and, though the sentinel might have allowed him to pass unchallenged if he had known his rank, the possession of the knife was inexcu- sable.
The volante the young man was escorting had driven on to his father's mansion, which was not far distant, and arrived just as the marquis and his lady were alighting at the door. The good woman who carried the intelligence was delighted to have the opportunity of speaking to so great a person- age, even under such circumstances ; and, as soon as she informed him of the arrest of his son, he remounted his carriage and returned to the spot, where he arrived before the operation of flogging was concluded, and just as the carriage of Don Miguel passed by his servants were lifting his son into the vehicle.
" Ah, mama ! was that Jose } " whispered Tulila to her mother, as they ascended the steps.
" I think so, my child," said Dona Lucia.
"Horrible, mama, is it not.'*" said Tulita. " What a disgrace ! whipped at the public stocks,
48
THE SALE.
like any one else ! was such a thing ever heard of before ? the son of a marquis ! "
" There must have been some mistake, my child. The Governor would not have had one of his rank publicly whipped, surely. Do not be alarmed ; it will all be made right," and with these words they entered the saloon, where Don Miguel was already pacing the floor.
" Good enough for him ! I am glad his plumes are plucked," said he. "His pride will be humbled now, I hope."
" It must be some mistake, I think," said Doiia Lucia, timidly. " Surely, the Governor would not sanction such an outrage upon the person of one of the nobility."
" Nobility, indeed, nobility ! Tacon has too much sense to let that make any difference ! What is this youngster worth beyond Luis Gon- zallo, or any other high-mettled youth who has been punished for disobeying orders } You may be sure Tacon is only glad of the chance of show- ing these proud nobles that they cannot cross his will. The Marquis of Carova has done it several times of late, and this makes the account square. For my part, I am glad it has fallen just where it has. Did you see the fellow dancing attendance upon that pretty girl to-night, Tulita .'' She has plenty of money to fill his empty pockets. You see, you have lost your cavalier, hey ? but, never mind ! there are plenty more."
THE SALE.
49
This was more than Tulita could bear, and she was hastening after Miss Wentworth, who had said good-night, but her father called her back.
" What ! going to bed without kissing papa ? that is something new."
Tulita returned and kissed her father, but not as usual. He drew her upon his knee, and whispered something in her ear which made her start back with an exclamation, " Ay, papa ; how can you ? " and, bursting into tears, she left the room.
" Now he is disgraced, perhaps his father will let him marry the slaver's daughter, and you may yet be a Marchioness," were the words Don Miguel had whispered into the ear of his daughter.
When Tulita reached her own apartment, the young slave who attended at her toilet stood ready to bathe her feet in the usual manner, and Tulita suddenly dried her eyes and suppressed all evidence of unusual emotion ; for she knew that on the morrow this untoward event would be bruited from one end of the city to the other ; and Tekla, the pretty lady's-maid, was the queen of gossips, and knew enough of her young mistress' affairs to make it dangerous to admit her to any confidence. Pleading headache, Tulita sank into her boutacle, and threw her handkerchief over her head, while Tekla bathed her feet ; but, declining to have her hair combed as usual, she quietly undressed and threw herself upon the bed. When Tekla had retired, her mother stole into the room to give her
50
THE SALE.
^the accustomed caress and blessing, which were more tender than usual, if possible, but accom- panied by few words, and it was not till she left her that Tulita gave way to a passion of tears, such as only the young and hopeful shed when grieved and disappointed. Tulita's heart was yet pure and uncorrupted ; but she was destined to be made the tool of the ambitious and the selfish, who were old and wise in the world's ways. Yet such are the fetters of custom that she suffered more when she thouccht of the disgrace and momen- tary suffering of a favorite than for the despair of the bondswoman, for whose fate there was no redemption.
CHAPTER IV.
LA CONSOLACION,
The arrival, from the plantation of La Consola- cion, of the housekeeper who was to be her escort into the country, was announced to Miss Went- worth one evening on her return from the music ; and, after parting words with her hostess and Tulita, she hastened to her room to make arrange- ments for starting at daybreak, in order to avoid the noonday heats. Tulita had formed many plans of entertainment for Miss Wentworth, and was much disappointed when she had heard of the arrival of Mrs. Warwick. The housekeeper of the Marchioness of Rodriguez was an American, whom Miss Wentworth had sent to Cuba eighteen years before as nurse to her friend's first-born. The Marchioness had lived too long in America to be willing to give her child into the care of a negro slave.
Mrs. Warwick had retired much fatigued from her ride, and would have been very glad to have lain over for a day's rest, but no such intimation was made, and Miss Wentworth was only too glad to escape the necessity of exchanging any more
51
52
LA CONSOLACION.
courtesies with Don Miguel, who was more and more repugnant to her feelings. When her prepa- rations for the morning were made, and she had dismissed the young waiting maid who had been assigned her in Doiia Lucia's hospitable arrange- ments, she threw herself on her bed, but it was not to sleep. So far from that, her whole past life seemed to come up for review, and what aston- ished her more than all things else in this review- was the fact that, with what she did know formerly upon this subject, she had not sought to know more. The intensity of Channing's emotions upon it was now explained to her. In pursuit of health he had sought the climates of slave-lands, and had seen slavery for himself as she now saw it. She saw now how the general atmosphere of opinion influences the mind, if experience has not given it the means of throwing it off and judging subjects by principles. She remembered her mother's enthusiastic ejaculations when speaking of Wilberforce, and referring to the sufferings of the middle passage. The reference was some- what vague, for she was a child then, to whom her mother would not recount the details of horrors. Her mother had long since passed away, but her daughter remembered the stories of sacrifices and sufferings her family had experienced in leaving their English home for the love of freedom — freedom, whose significance she now for the first time realized. She had never known anything else
LA COXSOLAC/O.V.
53
but freedom, and had compared it with nothing else. It covered far more than worshipping God according to the dictates of conscience, which was the Pilgrims' shibboleth. Follen had sympathized with down-trodden nationalities, and had defended them before European courts at the risk of his life, and when he came to America it was coming, as it were, to ideal liberty. She was familiar with the story of his life, but saw now how little she had appreciated it, enthusiastic as was her feeling at the time. She remembered, too, his pain when the knowledge of slavery first dimmed the fair picture he had drawn of America. She with others had criticised what were then called Garri- son's extreme views as they appeared to her through the medium of other minds. She had wondered at the opposition of decided anti-slavery men to the scheme of colonization ; but she under- stood it now. She now saw why the slave-holders favored it — not because of their humanity to the race, but because it would be so con\'enient to have all the freemen of that race removed from the vicinity of slavery, whose peaceful existence their freedom threatened. She had heard Follen state this strongly, but then thought he went too far in judging ill of his fellow-men, kind and just as he was on all other subjects. Such, again, was the influence of prevailing sentiments. The great upheaval had not yet come ; when it did come, it was demonstrated that these lax judgments were
54 J^A consolac/on:
founded on self-interest, for the northern portion of her country proved to have been deeply in- volved in the pecuniary gains of slavery, and there- fore blinded to its heinousness. She remembered the intelligent colored boy in her grandfather's village, where she went to school in her childhood after her parents' death. He was the best de- claimer in the school, and a manly boy in every sense of the word, who grew to be a respected member of society, intrusted with town interests, and his name another word for honesty and fidelity. How long ago she had forgotten John Gibson ! with whom she had studied and recited and played as with any child of her own color. She remembered, too, the bright girls in her own Sunday-school class in the African church at a later period, one of whom became a distinguished proficient in American history, and wrote sensible articles in the anti-slavery papers. More strongly than ever she felt it her duty to stay and learn all she could, that she might help to clear up doubting minds. She hoped she had seen the worst — it must be better, she was sure, in the rural districts.
What were likely to be her farther experiences in this fearful land.-* This subject had never been a theme of the correspondence she had kept alive with her Cuban friend for the last twenty years. She knew she had married a slave-holder, but she knew him to be a devoted husband and father.
LA CONSOLACION.
55
She even knew that he loved his horses with a special affection. Could she doubt that he had feeling for his brother-man ? She did not yet fully realize that his brother-man had passions and will of his own, that made him hard to govern — that, in order to keep him in subjection, he must be treated despotically, and that irrespon- sible power was liable to ruin the best organized natures and silence all the best instincts of the heart. She had often heard that the wildest and most excited horse could be instantly calmed by the touch and voice of the Marquis of Rodriguez, and she found herself imagining this benign influ- ence exerted over human beings, till the tumult of her soul was calmed, and she fell asleep, to be roused — as it seemed to her, immediately — by the summons to start upon her journey.
It had been arranged that, if the good ]\Irs. War- wick concurred, Carlito should accompany them for a short visit ; for the accident that had opened up to the child the horrors of slavery had so affected his happiness that he could not sleep, and both father and mother wished for a change of scene, hoping the impression would fade. Mrs. Warwick consented to take him, although she knew the Marchioness kept her children very much apart from others less guarded in their lives than their own, and he was so overjoyed at the prospect of the visit that he rallied at once and left home and his mother in high spirits. His father prom-
56
LA COXSOLACIOy.
ised to bring him home when he should take Tulita to a neighboring plantation, which would now be very soon, as the Christmas holidays were approach- ing, and at that season the plantations, otherwise dull places to the young, were given up to gayety.
The relief afforded by nature, seen in such a dif- ferent aspect from anything that had before met her eyes, was inexpressible to Miss Wentworth, and the prattle of Carlito aided its effect.
After leaving the white limestone formation that surrounds the city of Havana, and which is very dazzling and trying to the eyes, they passed into the deep, rich, red soil of the interior, which makes such fine contrast with the luxuriant foliage. No fences mar the beauty of the scenery, but the plantations are bordered with broad lime hedges, impervious, by reason of their spines, to man or beast, and often covered in their turn by a little blue convolvulus, whose delicate vine trails over them and the adjacent earth. No houses are seen from the road, but gates, sometimes of great archi- tectural beauty, and always more or less preten- tious, shut in long avenues of trees, at the end of which, within ample squares, stand the low ram- bling houses, usually built with posts of the lignum- vitas wood, which is impervious to the attacks of insects, and filled in with cocoa or bamboo stakes, plastered. These houses are floored, within, and on the broad piazzas that surround them, with the same concrete as the platform in the Governor's
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square, made of lime and the red earth, laid down wet, and then pounded by enormous piles into a consistency which resembles marble and takes a very fine polish. These piazzas are often made with circular openings for plants, which form little gardens, as it were, that the ladies of the house can enjoy, without stepping upon the soil, which a large portion of the year, that of the rainy season, is of the consistency of hasty pudding, to borrow a familiar image, the earth not having a pebble in it of the size of a pin's head.
Heavy rain in the night — very unusual at the season, which was midwinter — had made the roads almost impassable. They were fearful to an inex- perienced traveller, and many times the trusty negro who headed the escort had lifted Miss Went- worth and her heavy companion, the housekeeper of her friend, from the volante (Carlito took care of himself), and placed them on a dry spot while the vehicle was pulled from the deep mud-holes in which it occasionally sank. Gullies, fifty feet in depth, had to be descended on one side and ascended on the other, and the driver, who sits on the outside horse, and guides the one that is between the bars, at arm's length, did not seem to have any fears of a successful transit unless water stood at the bottom ; but the enormous wheels of the volantes, wheels of the size and width of our largest cart-wheels, must not sink too deep, or they cannot be extricated, so the occupants of the
58
LA CONSOLACION.
V^ehicle must alight and be carried over on the sides of the declivity, or, perchance, through the mud and mire, in the arms of attendants. Women never travel in the rainy season, and men usually on horseback ; but in exceptional cases, like this, unknown perils may be encountered, and it seemed to Helen, sometimes, that all hopes of a safe arrival were futile. The old lady who served her as escort took the perils very quietly, which some- what reassured her, and when the sun became pretty high, and threatened to be intolerable, they entered an avenue of beautiful trees, at the end of which stood a hospitable mansion, where they were received as if expected. There are no inns by the way in that country, but the hospitality of the people is unmeasured, and always freely in- voked.
Miss Wentworth could speak the language, and found that the tidings she brought from the city amply compensated her hosts for the trouble of entertaining her for a few hours, and, after doing her best thus to requite their kindness, she gladly accepted an invitation to rest her wearied limbs in a luxurious hammock, where she was considerately left to sleep until she was roused to continue her journey. The worst roads were passed, and when she entered the circle of San Marcos, not far from the mountains of San Salvador, she found the plantations of the Castilian nobility distinguished for their cultivation and beauty. The one which
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was the scene of the chief incidents of my story was approached by a long avenue of pahns, which seemed to throw their slender columns so high because they worshipped the sun which had drawn them forth from the rich, red earth of that region. Such, at least, was the thought suggested by their columnar beauty to Miss Wentworth as she leaned back in the luxurious volante which was winding its way through their ranks, that seemed inter- minable. She had long ceased to utter the trans- ports of her enjoyment to her companion, who, less youthful, less enthusiastic than herself, had fallen fast asleep — besides which, she had no words in which she could appropriately express her admiration, for, as she rode on, the enchantment increased. Carlito was beside himself with delight, for this was his first visit to the interior of the island.
The sun was just setting in tropical glory, and as they passed, crossing avenues of these peculiar trees, the vistas were illuminated by a roseate light, which gave them the effect of colonnades of mar- ble pillars. The rich evergreen of the leaves of the coffee-plant formed a fine relief to the snowy whiteness of the palm shafts; as they approached the house, shrubs of various flowers were inter- spersed with the trees, till in the more immediate vicinity of it they gave place to others as new to her ; to the mango, with its pear-like fruit, to the orange-tree, the laurustinus, and the bamboo,
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\ which seems to sweep the sky with its plumes, and forms an arch of shade impervious to the sun ; the ground being carpeted like our pine forests with tlie fallen leaves. On emerging from this cool shade, the road opened into an area whose centre was occupied by a spacious marble basin of water, which was immediately surrounded by a hedge of roses in perfection of bloom. The hedge was cut so low as not to intercept the view of the water from the carriage. Within the hedge, on the edge of the basin, was a rich garden border of flowers, among which stood many classic vases where vines had strayed from their bed and found their way to the waters of the pond, festooning the whole <i<\gQ with the most splendid colors of the floral kingdom. Into this area opened avenues from every direc- tion. The calesero dashed into one of these, and, suddenly quickening his pace, whirled the volante to the piazza of the princely Rodriguez mansion.
Here Miss Wentworth was folded in the arms of her old friend, whom she had not seen since they resided on her grandfather's farm in Berkshire County, Massachusetts, twenty years before. The matronly beauty of the Marchioness was even more attractive than that of her youth had been, and when she greeted Helen with the affection of a sister, amid the perfume of roses and the play of a • fountain, which stood like a familiar household spirit in an opening on \.\\zX floor of luxury, as the beautiful Castilian idiom designates the highly
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polished composition piazzas that surround the houses, it seemed to her that she was in the very gates of Paradise. Voices are more mellow, ob- jects more soft, in that delicious climate, than else- where, and the air seemed full of music as well as of perfume.
Miss Wentworth, or Helen, as we will now call her, was in the prime of life. The heyday of youth had not only passed, but she was perhaps prematurely old in the experience of life, and had never again expected to be taken captive by any beauty whose inmost reason for being she had not penetrated, but from the time she had been re- lieved of her fears of perils by the way, and had breathed that divine air loaded with tropical sweets, her blood had flowed with the vivacity of youth, and, wearied as was her frame, she was completely intoxicated with the scene and the joy of the meet- ing. When she afterwards remembered how pain- fully and suddenly she was disenchanted, it seemed like a dream of surpassing beauty for whose ingre- dients she looked in vain. The next morning, the glory had faded from the skies, the clustered roses, wet with dew, appeared like angels with drooping wings mourning over lost humanity ; the palm-trees, which the evening before had seemed to stretch toward the skies in order to worship the sun, now appeared to struggle upward because they loathed their parent earth. Their stiff leaves looked like the fixed gaze of despair ; they were but the em-
62 ^^ CONSOLACION.
blem of desolation, standing apart, with no wish to mingle with humankind, lest the \vail of sorrow should pass along their ranks. But I anticipate.
Guests are not allowed to sit late in the damp evening air, which insidiously affects the stranger in that climate, and after the sudden twilight of tropical latitudes had succeeded the brilliant sun- set, and they had taken a few turns on the luxurious gallery, Helen was taken in to look at the precious jewels, her friend's children, who had been taken to their little tent beds just before her arrival, tired out with their day's play. Carlito was told that they would have been kept up to welcome him if he had been expected, but the party had not been looked for so early.
The spacious saloon, which constitutes the chief apartment of a country mansion in Cuba, was more simply furnished than that of Don Miguel Arbrides' pretentious abode in the city, for in Cuban country- life all ceremonies and eticjuette are relaxed, and comfort rather takes the place of show. Not that it can be called comfort in the New England sense of that term, but in a climate where one only needs shelter from the sun and rain, and no protection from chilling and changing winds, much fewer ap- pliances are requisite to supply the natural wants of man. Deep leather boutacles, lounges covered with the same material, before which stood light sofa-tables, bamboo tabourets of various sizes, what- nots of the same material for books and articles of
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"virtii ; high massive sideboards, on which stood silver candlesticks, protected by cut-glass gnarda- brisas, or wind-shades, of glass, stood upon the highly polished floors, which were uncarpeted, for insect life in the tropics renders the use of carpets impracticable. The hall was unsealed, the parti- tion walls reaching only within a foot of the rafters, which were handsomely carved, but left naked for the free circulation of air. These spacious apart- ments have a desolate air to the eye of a stranger accustomed to close and carpeted rooms, sheltered by glass windows and curtains, but art had done something for this one to relieve it of the effect of its extent and barrenness. A wreath of fruits, flowers, and birds was painted all around it on the plastered walls, of a light sky-blue, so gorgeous and luxurious in hue that it riveted the gaze even by candle-light, and illuminated what would other- wise have been the darkness of the apartment. Behind this apartment was another wide piazza, curtained by heavy duck, with a border painted somewhat in the same style ; this gallery was used as the dining-hall, where the party partook of light refreshment, and were then conducted to their own apartments. There were large rooms on either side the hall, one of which was the sleeping-room of the Marchioness, around which were smaller apartments for the children's little tented beds, and beyond these Miss Wentworth was ushered into her own spacious apartment, near which was
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a smaller one, in which Carlito was quite ready to be put to bed by the kind Mrs. Warwick.
A nice little ebony lass stood ready to bathe Miss Wentworth's feet and to help her undress, but these were offices she had always performed for herself, and, with a painful remembrance of her late Havana life, she gently declined the aid of the young girl, who stood in silent wonder to see the lady wait upon herself.
" Solidad is much disappointed," said the Mar- chioness, who had followed Miss Wentworth to her room. " She was much delighted at being ap- pointed lady's-maid to the long-expected friend ; but you will soon learn the luxury of being waited upon, in this climate."
" She shall be my little maid, if she wishes it," said Miss Wentworth, "but not my little slave. It does not seem to me, now, that I can ever let any one wash my feet, in that capacity."
" I shall leave it to Solidad to persuade you," said the Marchioness. ' "When you have met her half a dozen times a day, at your chamber door, with a tub of warm water upon her head, you will capitulate, and make her happy by allowing her to wash your feet ; and then she will hold out her hand for a vicdio, for the slave does not like to serve you for nothing, and if you wish for their good services you must buy them."
" She shall have the medio this time, for her good-will," said Miss Wentworth. " Is it
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the fear of losing it that makes her look so grave ? "
Solidad's face brightened again with a smile when Miss Wentworth dropped the medio into her hand, and then despatched her to her quarters.
As she glanced round the room, after her friend's parting kiss, before she threw herself upon the mosquito-netted cot, which was two-thirds ham- mock, she was aware that her walls were adorned with what she supposed landscape papers, and her attention was for a moment riveted upon a scene that she remembered to have been sketched by the Marchioness in her girlhood — for the Mar- chioness was an artist, and this must have been her work. But she was too weary to examine it, and the only light in the room was afforded by carved gourds containing brilliant curculios, a beetle which is of the nature of a gigantic fire-fly ; and it was but a few moments after Isabella left her before she had sunk into a slumber such as can be enjoyed only in that atmosphere, which seems created for sleep, so soothingly does it bathe the limbs and faculties in repose.
Her last thought, as she fell asleep, was the comforting reflection that here she should be spared the pain of witnessing any distressing fea- tures of the institution to which she had had so appalling an introduction. But her little bark of sleep seemed to her scarcely launched on the sea of night before she was roused from her re-
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freshing slumber by the most piercing and heart- rending shrieks, from many voices, accompanied by the terrific sound of the lash.
She sprang from her bed, and grasped the han- dle of a door that led upon the gallery. Voices reassured her as she rushed from the room. How can I describe the scene to those who are yet novices in such horrors .'' A man who looked more like a demon than a human being was ap- plying his instrument of torture to the old negro who had been Miss Wentworth's kind and atten- tive escort. His blood was pouring from the wounds inflicted by the lash. The groans of the victim, the shrieks of his wife and children, were maddening to her ear. The friend of her youth, whom she knew to be the milk of human kindness, stood motionless, though pale and weeping. The Marquis, who had appeared to her, the evening be- fore, to be the embodiment of all her fancy had pictured as the noble knight and the "preux che- valier," paced the gallery with a hurried step, but did not interfere.
Miss Wentworth looked at them a moment in unspeakable amazement, and then, as if impelled by energies that had never before been roused, darted from the piazza, and seized the arm of the wretch who was inflicting the punishment. At the same moment, a youth of twenty, whom she had not seen the night before, but whom she knew must be the oldest son of her friend, ran
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from the house, exclaiming, " My God ! I will shoot the wretch " ; and held up a pistol as if ready to discharge it. His father struck back his arm, and sternly commanded him to go back into the house, where he followed him, and probably for- bade his reappearance, for he was seen no more.
Miss Wentworth's impulsive movement had ar- rested, not only the attention, but the arm of the overseer : but his wrath was not expended, and, seeing that she was not seconded, he continued his flagellations — with more passion than before, if possible.
The deep slumbers of the children were not dis- turbed by the noise, thanks to the construction of the mansion. The rooms in which the family lived were approached by a flight of twenty or thirty steps, but Manuel had been roused by his brother, so the circumstances could not be wholly concealed from him.
The Marquis called the overseer to his apart- ment, and the wife and children of the slave re- moved the poor old man from the blood-stained ground.
The IMarchioness called Miss Wentworth from her room, and, throwing herself into a boutacle in the saloon, burst into tears. After a few moments of convulsive weeping, she commanded herself sufficiently to say : —
" Poor Carlo ! he was never whipped before, nor did my children ever before witness or listen to
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siich a scene ; Ludovico is old enough to know all the penalties of slavery, but we have kept everything we could, even from Manuel, that would distress them. This wretch is a temporary overseer, and has brought badly trained blood- hounds, who frighten the people, and then he punishes them for defending themselves. I assure you, my dear Helen, this is the first time I have seen such a spectacle since my marriage."
"I am glad it is not common," said Helen, un- able to suppress her indignation ; " it is bad enough that it is possible, Isabella."
" Ah, it is not so uncommon," said Isabella, " but all the whipping is done at the other plan- tation, for my sake and for the sake of the chil- dren. When I returned from the States, my good father indulged me by discontinuing the custom of having the punishments inflicted before the house, and my husband has done the same here."
" Then it is a favorite spectacle with slave-hold- ers ! " said Helen, more indignant than ever.
" Oh ! no, Helen, but it is done in the presence of the master, that he may control its severity. The slaves look to him for protection against the over- seer, whose power, while in office, is absolute, and necessarily so, or he could preserve no discipline.".
" Protection ! discipline ! " were all the words Helen could utter.
" You will surely agree that there must be dis- cipline of such savage creatures."
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"It is not the discipline for human beings, and you are satisfied when you spare your own feelings by not witnessing it ! " exclaimed Helen.
Isabella burst into fresh tears. " Indeed, Helen, you are cruel. We women cannot help this thing. Would you deny us the small boon of having it out of our sight .'* "
" My dear Isabel, you must forgive me if I am unjust ; but the horror of my mind is such that I hardly know what I say. Tell me why you did not interfere if you were displeased with this. Has a master no power over his overseer .-' Of whom are you afraid } "
" It is for the sake of the poor people that we must be cautious, for the overseer must not be exasperated. I assure you we shall not keep such a man longer than we can help ; but it is difificult to find a good one, for the occupation brutalizes all ordinary natures. We have had an excellent one, — a Frenchman, — but he was called to France a week or two since, to inherit some property, and could not wait for my husband to supply his place, as he would have wished to do. Poor Carlo is my husband's foster-brother, and devoted to him. He was never punished before. All his family are my house-servants. Carlo was fleeing to his master for protection when this wretch caught him. He called the negro driver who is under him to whip Carlo, but Carlo is Jacobo's god-
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farther, and he refused to do it ; so he did it him- self, all the more angrily."
" What had Carlo done ? " asked Helen.
"Simply threatened the dog that bit him, they say ; but Don Ermite has been much irritated about his dogs, which have given us a great deal of trouble the last two weeks. I have been afraid to let my children step off the piazza, though well trained dogs never snap at a white skin."
"Everything you say in extenuation only in- creases my horror. The faultless, faithful ser- vants are punished as if they were the worst ; the discipline, as you call it, would be a cruel one for beasts — are no sentiments ever addressed in these people but fear .-^ "
" Slight punishments do not subdue them ; they only exasperate them. It is necessary to break their wills, and some of these people have very stubborn wills, and will even fight till they are subdued."
" I see more and more horrors — "
" All would be anarchy and confusion on the plantations if they were not subdued ; but on well managed plantations, as this has been, defi- nite rules are established, and they can escape punishment if they obey them."
" If the overseer happens to be a decent man, you mean."
" Yes, there is that chance, and it is a fearful one. But they must feel there is an inexorable
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power over them, or they would kill us all. The most faithful are not to be trusted in extremity. How can we expect them to be faithful if they see a chance of liberty for themselves ? They might not take into account the retribution that would come upon them. Oh, my dear Helen, I felt just as you do when I first came home, but I have resigned myself to necessity. What else can women do .■' All I can do is to be as good a mis- tress as I know how, make no unreasonable requi- sitions, and bear all the evils that I see. My house-servants are never punished when we have a good overseer. Carlo is a house-servant, and all his family are in the house. They do horrible things sometimes, but we have to bear them ; and I never let them have much to do with the chil- dren. They are beside themselves to-night. I am afraid that wicked overseer will punish them all for interfering with him. They undoubtedly thought my husband would interfere."
"Can it not be prevented .^ " exclaimed Helen, shuddering at the thought.
" I do not know what my husband can do with that creature," said Isabella, "but, at any rate, I am afraid our good Jacobo must suffer."
"Who is he.?"
"He is the negro driver who refused to whip Carlo to-night. He is a good fellow, and must have known the danger to himself, though per- haps he thought his master would interfere for
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Carlo. Carlo is his godfather, and he is very- affectionate."
" He must be a hero, indeed, if he can risk such a danger," answered Helen ; " but cannot he be saved? Let us go and see if we cannot intercede for him. Has your husband no authority whatever over his household } Pardon me for asking — "
"It will do no good," said Isabella, sadly. " What you have done to-night, my dear Helen, will only make the matter worse for somebody. Planters and overseers will not be interfered with. Wait for me one moment ; do not go to bed till I come back," and the Marchioness suddenly left the room.
The request was unnecessary. Sleep was never farther from Helen's eyelids. Every fibre within her trembled with the excess of her indignation. It was as if the lake of fire which some theolo- gians describe as the retribution for sin was sud- denly opened before her. The lurid light that shines from evil deeds sent a searching glance into realms of hitherto unimagined suffering:. The faithful, trusted, beloved servant was thus a victim to the uncontrolled passions of man, with- out the power of an appeal to any earthly friend or tribunal, and God meddles not between man and man. The ocean that rolled between her and her bleak northern home looked to her like an interminable waste of waters, but one which must soon separate her from such scenes.
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But, as on a former occasion, the next thought was, Is this right ? Should not these things be known ? Perhaps I may be a humble instrument for enlightening society upon this fearful topic.
How differently did the hooted and persecuted' friends of freedom appear to her now ! She respected them before as well as she knew how, but how little she had known ! They were, per- haps, not perfectly wise in all their methods, but earnest, humane, self-sacrificing. She had dared to criticise them. A new aspect of human duty had presented itself to her. She determined to hush every selfish feeling, and look with a keen eye — a calm one, if possible — into this monster iniquity. But she must possess herself, and still the tumult within her. She could not believe that her friends were willing to be cruel, and she felt that she might trust herself to do them jus- tice. She believed their personal benevolence would make them kind masters up to the limit of their possibilities, but had any one a right to remain in such circumstances } And then again came the thought that if there were no humane masters, what a pandemonium earth would be ! She could not yet realize how the prejudices of education, the weight of custom, and the work- ings of self-interest, blinded them to the full sense of the iniquity of such a position. She hoped with trembling that she might help them to see their farther dutv.
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When Isabella returned, she saw by her coun- tenance that her mission, if it was one, had been unavailing. The exasperated overseer threatened to leave the plantation the next morning if inter- fered with any farther. Carlo had been bitten by one of his untrained dogs as he was crossing the lawn on his way to his cabin, and had uttered a threat of revenge against it, which the overseer overheard. He immediately ordered the driver, whose office it was to execute his behests, to give Carlo thirty lashes. But Carlo was the master's personal servant and his foster-brother, petted, loved by all, respected by the other slaves, the godfather of all the younger portion of them, among whom was the negro driver himself, and he refused. The passionate overseer seized the lash, and, swearing vengeance against Jacobo for disobedience, inflicted the punishment himself. Nothing would now satisfy him but to wreak his anger upon Jacobo. The wretched victims of slavery are not even allowed the sad privilege of weeping for their suffering brethren, except in secret. The shrieking wife and frightened chil- dren, who had felt hitherto that the old husband and father was safe from punishment, now shared his tortures by personal suffering as well as by sympathy. Can an outsider believe that this had to be submitted to } Isabella had pleaded for the negro children, and saved them, but the old wife was punished with her husband. Isabella, however.
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did not tell Helen of this, but had to confess that the intercession she had made for Jacobo proved ineffectual. The Marquis had given his wife a solemn promise that not a day should pass without his seeking a substitute for this tyrant. This, however, was not to be intimated, for if it were not done cautiously there was little doubt that his life would be the sacrifice, and, in the slave-holder's code of honor (I might perhaps say his code of self-interest), his overseer's life must be protected, how many lives of negroes soever might be sacri- ficed to it.
" And what," said Helen, " will be the effect upon the family of household slaves } Will it not destroy the very germs of that faithful devotedness which you say has actuated them, to find that you are powerless to protect them .-' "
"I fear so, indeed," said the Marchioness, "but they have not an unkindness to remember from me. Yet I may not be allowed to enlighten them upon the reasons why we could not interfere to pre- vent this injustice. They must not be let into our counsels, for they could not keep the secret. Half these slaves are raw Africans, hardly yet broken into their traces : and we stand on a vol- cano if they are not thoroughly intimidated ; for many belong to tribes that it is very difficult to reduce to slavery. Carlo is a Congo, one of the easiest tribes to govern."
" I cannot believe this is the only way of mak- ing human beings docile," said Helen.
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" They can hardly be called human beings," said Isabella.
" And why should they be?" said Helen, indig- nantly. " Have they not been robbed of them- selves, and treated like demons .-* "
" True ; we should expect nothing of them, and we do expect nothing. They cannot be trusted. We are few against many, and must convince them of our superior power."
" And yet you are willing to live on under such a system and bequeath it to your children," replied Helen, with rising excitement, for she again began to take command of herself.
"Oh, be just, Helen! Am I not powerless? But I am wholly unnerved as well as you. Let us talk no more of it to-night. I have nothing to say in defence of this wrong — only of myself. I will not leave you alone, but lie down by your side. Let us try to sleep and be strengthened for the morrow. I have given orders not to be dis- turbed."
Helen acceded, and said no more ; and Isabella soon fell asleep, but not so Helen. It seemed to her that sleep would never more visit her tor- tured brain ; and, when she saw the soft light of dawn through the crevices of her shutters (for the Cuban country-houses rarely know the luxury of glass windows), she quietly opened the door and stepped out upon the cool piazza. All traces of the fearful scene had been carefully removed. vShe
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descended the steps, but she could not walk on that side of the house, and turned the corner. Here, on the other side of the path, were the raised platforms, of masonry, which served for drying the coffee. Mounting these, Helen walked to cool her burning head in the soft dews of the morning, which weighed down ev^ery leaf. Be- yond these coffee-driers stood the cabins of the slaves — light structures of bamboo stakes, inwoven with the long leaves of the cocoa-plant, now stiff with age. As she descended from these driers, and passed the nearest dwelling, stifled sobs struck her ear, and, trembling with her suspicions, but irresistibly impelled by sympathy, she pushed open the door, which stood ajar. Stretched on the bare earth, with but a small blanket under each, lay the victims of the last night's brutality ; with the exception of the poor old man, who had been taken to the hospital, which is prepared for the reception of such "victims, who often do not emerge from it for many weeks. A tall negress, with a counte- nance expressive of much dignity as well as of the deepest sorrow, was tenderly bathing the wounds of the sufferers. At first Helen's knees trembled under her, and her senses reeled again with horror ; but the next moment she was on her knees, join- ing in the humane service, and assisting the soli- tary attendant in her charitable work. The poor wife of Carlo fixed her wondering eyes upon Miss Wentworth's face, but their grateful expression
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cihanged instantly to one of terror when Helen inquired for Carlo. " In the hospital, and my husband too," said the negress in attendance, who was the wife of the negro driver, " but you must not stay here, lady," she said to her, in the same language as that in which Helen had addressed her. Her fast-falling tears called forth those of the poor woman, who threw herself upon the ground, wailing piteously. Carlo's wife motioned to Helen to go, and, startled by the expression of her face, Helen instantly obeyed, and darted from the cabin, regaining the driers as quickly as possible; and, hoping no one had seen her, she entered her room softly, and took her place by the side of Isabella, who still slept.
CHAPTER V.
THE DOGS.
Isabella was still sleeping, but not quietly. Helen lay down by her side, and resolved to keep her own counsel, if possible. Exhausted by weariness, strong emotion, and want of sleep, she soon lost herself, and when she awoke the sun was riding high in the heavens, and she was alone.
As she stood at her dressing-table, Helen again caught the outline of the Berkshire hills on the wall. It riveted her gaze. Two years spent in France with her father, before returning to the island, had given ' the Marchioness the oppor- tunity of becoming conversant with other works of art than her own, and her native genius had developed wonderfully, so that Helen, who had given her her first childish lessons in painting, felt herself wholly distanced in skill ; and she was now breathless with admiration. The beloved hills ! the land of liberty ! She could have knelt to them.
A plate of fresh oranges, nicely peeled, stood on the table at her side, and, refreshed by their
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cooling" juices, she dressed and went out to seek her friends.
What a contrast was this day to the scene of the precedini;- evening! Isabella and her husband were pacing the piazza, and the former greeted her with the affection of a sister, but she fancied she perceived some constraint in the salutation of the Marquis, who had received her so cordially the night before. One fine boy of six was standing by the door, with eyes swollen with weeping; two beau- tiful little girls were playing with a little dog, and they looked at Helen with wondering eyes, but when their mother told them this was Aunt Helen, whom she had been so long expecting, they began to smile upon her, and when Helen told them she had seen them before, a sweet little four-year-old thing held out her arms to be taken up, and asked her if she would talk English with her, — Mrs. Warwick and Ludovico had taught her to say some things in English. Helen made many promises, and was soon intimate with these little ones, who were not strangers to her, and many of whose childish sayings had been the theme of their mother's letters.
The children of the Marchioness of Rodriguez had not been trained, as most of the children of slave-countries are, by negro nurses, but, with good Mrs. Warwick's help, their mother had trained them herself, and presided even over their baths and their meals, — for Isabella had brought with
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her, from her old New England life, impressions and principles regarding the education of children that her Cuban life had never corrupted. Helen's good aunt had always presided over her morning toilet and her retiring hour for the night, not trusting hirelings in those trying scenes and precious hours of children's days.
It is usual for each child in a well-to-do family in Cuba to have its special nurse, and much of its character is determined by its " mumma," as the negro nurse is called ; but no such function existed here. Mrs. Warwick was the other mother, and she was a stanch New England woman, of the best type. But Manuel had always had his morning ride on old Carlo's head, when the latter went to feed his pig, — that cherished object of a negro's affections, because the only thing, except his chickens, that he really owns. He did not own his wife or his children ; but he did own his pig and his chickens, and had the disposal of the money for which he could sell them. That money went into the little fund that a thoughtful slave always hoards, secretly, towards the making up of the five hundred dollars that can legally buy his freedom. The fact that everything that can be done to prevent its accumulation is done, does not discourage the slave from the attempt to gather it ; nor the fact of the few cases in which they are successful. But this is a digression. It was not the selfish loss of a pleasure, merely, that
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wrung Manuel's heart this morning, but the cruel wrong that had been clone to Carlo, whom he really loved, and about which he knew enough to demand the relation of the whole, which his mother had reluctantly given. The little girls had been more easily put aside, and he was charged not to tell them what he knew. It was Manuel's first unselfish sorrow, and the little girls had in vain endeavored to comfort him, or to ascertain the cause of his trouble other than the disappointment about his morning pastime. He had consoled himself as far as possible by feeding Carlo's pig with corn and oranges, reserving a huge orange, which he carried under his arm, for Carlo, and was waiting with what patience he could till his mother was ready to prepare Carlo's portion, in which she had promised that it should be an ingredient. She always attended person- ally to the rations for the hospital, and, in ordi- nary cases of illness, Manuel always accompanied her in her visitations to the hospital ; but she could not take him in cases of punishment, with- out revealing too much of the fearful arcana of slavery.
" Do you know what is the matter with Man- uel.? " whispered Pepita to Helen; "he will not tell me." " I think he is cross," said Louise. "Oh, no! he says he is unhappy, and that people don't like to be talked to when they are unhappy," ^and Pepita's little eyes filled with tears. Helen
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could not restrain her own, as she pressed the little darling in her arms, whose musical voice in broken English sympathized so deeply with the unknown sorrow.
" I wish everybody would not cry ! " burst from Pepita, as she broke into a passionate fit of weeping.
" Mama cried, too, when she dressed me," said Louise, who, though of more sturdy mood, was not proof against the general depression. Man- uel's tears began to flow afresh.
" Let us all try to make each other happy," said Helen, making a strong effort over herself ; " if every one would do that, no one in the whole world would be unhappy. What is your little dog's name .'' He does not like to see people look sad. Dogs always know when people are un- happy. Let us have a little frolic with him." Helen caught an orange from the buffet, and rolled it across the floor. The little girls, whose sympathy with the afflicted was indefinite though rea^, were soon absorbed in the frolic. But Man- uel walked away ; he could not bear it. Relieved from his depressing presence, the children soon recovered their spirits, and played horses on their long Guinea-grasses without him.
The Marquis had retired to his own apartment, and Isabella silently seated herself at her work- table, grateful to Helen for the relief her care of the children afforded her.
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^ At this moment an old negress, with preternat- urally active motions, bustled into the hall, and began to dust the furniture, lifting up the heavy chairs, and setting them down again with a great noise.
"Ah, Camilla," said the Marchioness, a little impatiently, " I thought you had done dusting."
"Ave, Maria! oh, no, la Marquisa, not yet ; poor Jacobo ! — poor Carlo ! — poor Maria! — Ave, Maria! good morning, miss " (in English), courtesying to Helen — "good lady" (in Spanish), "ah, the dogs ! — the dogs, lady ! — French ladies walk ! — poor Carlo ! — poor Jacobo ! " — and Camilla con- tinued to go round and round the room, venting her excitement upon the chairs and tables and every article upon the large buffet, which she dusted over and over again.
"Take care, Camilla! you will break the guard- abrisas," said the Marchioness, " and those deli- cate little vases ! do not touch them again ! — you have moved them all once — do you hear me, Camilla.-* let the things alone!" for as her lady remonstrated the clatter increased rather than diminished. " Ah, yes ! pupil of my eyes! much dust, much dust ! — poor Carlo ! — poor Jacobo ! — the Marquis, the Marquis walks — the Marquis walks too fast — the Marquis walks in the night — the Marquis does not sleep — the Marquis should sleep — my lady slept a little — the young lady had better not walk — the dos-s — the doc-s — the
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young lady must not walk alone — good lady — good lady — the dogs, my lady, the dogs !"
"What does she mean, Helen?" said Isabella, in English. " I went out upon the driers last night, while you were sleeping, to cool my head," said Helen, aware that she had been seen.
As she spoke, Camilla stopped short, and listened intently, pretending to be attending to something out-of-doors.
"You must not do that, dear! — those dogs might attack you ! "
Camilla shook her head. " The dogs — the dogs, my lady — the French ladies walk, oh, yes ! "
"Which way did you walk.!*" said Isabella. Camilla crossed her bony fingers over her breast, and listened intently again.
"You have dusted enough, Camilla," said her mistress ; " you can go now."
Camilla reluctantly walked away, but soon returned to pick up her duster, which she had, probably, dropped designedly. Helen waited before replying, and, after adjusting one or two chairs again, the old crone went away, and, seizing a bunch of brush, began sweeping the path before the steps, evidently wishing to hear more.
" Camilla pretends not to understand English," said Isabella, "but we are sure that she does. Wait till she is fairly out of sight before you answer my question."
This was what Helen was doing, and, after
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raising the dust before the house pretty effectu- ally with her broom, Camilla finally disappeared.
" I walked a little way down one of the avenues," said Helen, as calmly as she could.
" Did you see any one .'' "
" I did not see Camilla," said Helen. " She seems a privileged character."
" She is, indeed ; but tell me whom you saw, dear ; and, for the love of Heaven, do not go out alone ! That wretch would kill you if he could, and you must not interfere, dear Helen, — promise me that you will not ! "
"Oh, I will not, indeed," said Helen; "I see that we are all slaves. I looked into a cabin from which I heard sobbing, but they warned me away immediately, and I hastened home."
"I told the man m charge last night to leave the door of Carlo's cabin open for air, that his poor wife might have the refreshment of it, and Jacobo's wife wanted to stay with her. Usually they are all locked in. I hope no harm will come of your looking in there. This creature must have heard you go out, or have been prowling round there herself. I do not know how she could get out, or how she dared to, but they have their own ways of circumventing us."
" My dear Isabella, do forgive me ; I will make no more ventures. I see that I did wrong, but it is so hard to learn about such different customs that perhaps you can forgive me. Heaven grant
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that I have brought no one else into trouble. I do not know but it would kill me if I thought I had."
" I think Camilla could have had only a good will in warning you," said Isabella, "and she knows enough to know that it would be dangerous to herself if it were known that she was out, so I trust there will be no consequences to your impru- dence ; but you must be prudent, dear."
" I will be, — but don't you think the negress who warned me away might have told Camilla with the purpose of giving me a warning through her .'' It was Carlo's wife, and she could have had no desire to injure me."
" You are right, and I think that must explain it. Camilla has seen them this morning, for I sent her there."
This calmed Helen's fears, and she resumed her play with the children, who had begun to listen, and were troubled by the interruption. But it was difficult to rally herself as the horrors and dangers about her accumulated, and she soon told her friend that she would try to go to sleep, for she was not fit company for the children.
Just at this moment, Carlito appeared, led in fresh and blooming by the good Mrs. Warwick, who had watched for his awakening, and dressed him with her own hand.
It was the first time any one had done this but his own dear mama and his slave-nurse, from whose affectionate but uncultivated ministrations
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|ie had, unhappily, not been saved, Carlito, who was only six years old, was very precocious, and, in spite of his inheritance, a lovely child. He was his mother's boy, and thus far, at least, the hard heart of his father had not shown itself in him. Happily, the father was rarely at home long, and Carlito's little life had been passed in kindly offices to the poor victims of pillage and oppression, who were well treated in his father's home, not from motives of humanity, but purely from self-interest. Carlito was not yet old enough to understand this, but he had just taken one degree, and as soon as he learned that there had been a punishment of a slave on the plantation, he too looked grave and preoccupied. Children invariably sympathize with " the people," so far as not to betray them ; and it is their first lesson in disingenuousness, but evi- dently sanctified to them by the motive that in- spires it. The innocent prattle of the little girls charmed him into frequent smiles and sallies, and it was not long before he too had a Guinea-grass horse and trotted down the piazza with his steed. The Rodriguez children were never left in their babyhood without the superintendence of their mother or their nurse. Manuel had but lately emerged from the nursery to ride with his father and Ludovico, who were equally careful to keejD him from contaminating exposure. It takes but a word or two of an uncultivated nurse to put an image into the mind of a child, as Helen was made
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aware that day, when Carlito asked her why that lady up in the sky, that took care of God, did not take care of Dolores and Pedro, whose fate still weighed upon his spirits.
" When I asked mama, she cried, and when I asked Tulita she said I must not talk so. I should not think God needed to be taken care of, but I think people do sometimes."
" My darling boy, who told you a lady in the sky took care of God .'' "
" Francisca told me."
"Who is Francisca .-' "
" Francisca is my nurse."
" Is she a kind nurse .'' "
"Yes, kindissimo," said Carlito, if we may trans- late literally his strong expression.
"My dear Carlito, Francisca may be very kind, but she is very ignorant — you must not believe all she says."
" She says Padre Jean told her so."
" Did you quite believe it ? "
"Yes, I thought Padre Jean would know."
Helen could hardly rally her thoughts to answer such searching questions, but she felt how impor- tant it was to Carlito, in the present state of his feelings.
" Oh, if men only understood how to be kind to other men, always, then they would understand God better. God is not a man like us, dear ; he does not need to be taken care of. Francisca is
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SO ignorant she could not understand what Padre Jean meant. The people who go to church here call Jesus Christ God, and he was so good there is no wonder that they should think he was the same, but he was the son of God, as you are, and the Madonna was his mother. He was good to every one — he would not have owned a slave, because he would have thought every one must own himself and could take care of himself as God made him to do, if no one prevents him. Christ taught men that they must love all men as if they were their own brothers, and if they did there would not be any slaves. We must all try to be as much like the good Christ as we can. I should not like to be a slave ; would you .''"
" No, indeed ; but Tulita says it does them good to be brought here, and papa says so too."
" It might do them good, if people would treat them kindly and teach them something."
"Won't you let me go h(*me with you when you go," said Carlito ; " Tulita says there are no slaves in your country."
"There are none in the part of America where I live, but in another part there are," Helen re- plied, sadly.
"I wish I was dead," said poor Carlito, who saw no way out of his misery, and he began to cry.
Helen drew him into her lap, and told him that perhaps he could do some good to the poor slaves
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when he grew older. "Once," she added, "there were slaves in New England, where I live, but the people there gave them all their liberty, and then they went to school and became as good as any one else, and, even in that part of my country where there are still slaves, people sometimes set all theirs free and send them away where they can be happier. When I first came here and saw a man punished, I thought I could not stay, but must go right home again ; and then I thought to myself, ' No, I will stay and learn all about slavery, and perhaps when I go home I can make more people give liberty to their slaves. Now, perhaps you can do a great deal of good when you grow up, and I would think of that rather than of the sufferings you see. I think your mother will send you out of this unhappy country when you are old enough to take care of yourself — that is what Manuel's mother means to do."
" Oh, that would be good. I'll try to wait for that."
"And let us go now," said Helen, "and find Manuel, and try to make him feel happier, for he has seen a kind servant punished when he did not deserve it, and is very unhappy about it — as un- happy as you are about Dolores and Pedro."
A fresh burst of sorrow was his answer, but he was soon ready to go to find Manuel ; and, when they went out upon the piazza, Manuel's pretty pony stood by the steps, and Ludovico and an-
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Other horse were also waiting to give Carlito his first ride.
"You shall ride my pony," said Manuel, "for he is very gentle, and if you should fall off he is so low that it would not hurt you."
" I will walk you round at first," said Ludovico, who saw that Carlito was a little timid.
Thus reassured, Carlito allowed himself to be placed upon the pony, and a happy hour or two passed with this experiment, so that he returned in good spirits, and played cheerfully with the little girls. In the afternoon they all went to drive with the nurse, Manuel and Ludovico ac- companying them on horseback, and nothing was said of the late sad event, for the Marchioness had prohibited all farther mention of it before the children, enjoining silence especially upon Camilla, on pain of being expelled from the house. Camilla knew very well that the housekeeping could not go on without her, but by keeping to the letter of the law she found many opportunities to give expression to her excited feelings. We will hope she did not enjoy the catastrophe too much, but the jealousies between household slaves are only held in check by the fear of severe pun- ishment. The rule of the plantation is that if any strife occurs between them, both parties are punished, without any questions being asked. There is not even an attempt at judgment. Earlier in life, Camilla had had her share of suf-
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fering from this cause, for her domineering spirit needed to be checked in the bud. At present the quarry at which she struck was one far above her, where she knew she should not meet with the retaliation she deserved.
CHAPTER VI.
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The Marchioness of Rodriguez had spent most of her childhood in the United States. A good education for a young girl was unattainable in Cuba at that time, especially upon the plantations, which were not connected with the cities even by highways passable at all seasons, and no judicious parents would send their daughters to the board- ing-schools or convents of the city. The usual custom was to hire men to instruct in families, and these were in so subordinate and toadyish a relation to the family that they could only be called upper servants. They were expected to perform many services besides teaching, and were in no position to command respect from the young. They were also, very frequently, sourcer of absolute corruption. American governesses were not then, as later, the fashion.
The mother of Isabella was not qualified to give or even superintend such an education as her father was desirous of affording her. He had been educated partly in Spain, partly at a poly- technic school in France, where his native mathe- matical tendencies were stimulated. He had
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tasted the pleasures of knowledge sufficiently to crave it for his only child, and even had an ambi- tion that she should be one of the women whose names were known in the intellectual world. He had not experience enough to know that only peculiar circumstances like those of some famous French women, Madame de Stael and Madame Roland for instance, were the educating forces that brought women occasionally to the front, and that the rule must be mediocrity while education for women remained on so low a plane as the usual one. Even Fenelon thought it best for women not to know too much.
Modern science was unknown in Spain, but Napoleon had opened the way to it in France, and the Marquis of Ramonte was imaginative. He was induced to send his daughter to Philadelphia by the fame of a certain boarding-school where other Spanish maidens had been placed, and had returned home able to speak a little French, which really stood for education in those days, not to say in later ones. There his child learned English by the natural process, enough French to prattle it a little, embroidery, dancing, a little arithmetic, a few geographical items, and a good deal of fash- ionable nonsense.
Helen Wentworth, left an orphan at fifteen, was sent to the same school by a New York aunt into whose care she fell, and whose highest idea of education was fashionable manners and French.
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Philadelphia was the only city at that time where the two things were supposed to be combined in the same institution, and Madame Le Blanc's fame was widespread, for she was a good woman, and gained the affections of her pupils, the surest pass- port to their intellects.
Helen Wentworth was a Massachusetts girl, and the child of an educator who had advanced ideas upon that subject, so that her daughter was put in possession of her faculties early in life, and nurtured upon the trials, sacrifices, and conquests of the early Pilgrim history, which has made New England what it is. Helen's more puritanical manners and higher culture had developed a supe- rior nature, which even a French boarding-school could not fritter away. She soon became deeply interested in the little Spanish stranger, whom she begged for a room-mate, and over whom she watched with sisterly care during her three years' residence there. In the summer vacati^ons she was even allowed to take her to the home of a Massachusetts uncle who lived among the Berk- shire hills, where they spent happy holidays, run- ning freely over hill and dale, and drinking in the spirit of freedom and independence which charac- terizes northern society wherever it is lucky enough to escape the narrowing effects of a bigoted creed, which it happily did in this case, for Helen's family circle had emancip.nted itself from that bondage.
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When Helen finally left Madame Le Blanc's school, she took the position of a teacher in a New England establishment, and the Marquis of Ramonte was but too glad to place his daughter under her care. The bond of affection between them was an indissoluble one, and when Isabella, at the age of eighteen, returned to her father, her mother having died while she was in the States, Helen promised to visit her before many years should elapse. Circumstances had prevented the fulfilment of this promise till now, and the inter- vening years had been passed in severe and useful duties, which had strengthened and deepened her character. Afflictions graver than bereavements of friends had purified and ennobled her affections, but had somewhat impaired her health ; and she resolved to recruit her forces by a visit to her friend, with whom she had, meantime, kept up a lively correspondence in both languages.
Isabella had become a wife and a mother, and her outward and inward life were known to her friend as far as the exchange of letters could make either known, but Helen found herself in a new world, whose very forms of thought varied from those of her own corner of creation as much as the features of the scenery around her. Vegetation clothed the earth there as here, but here its rank luxuriance, where untamed, typified the unbridled sweep of human propensities, while the curbs and restraints that a certain measure of civilization im-
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posed upon it only concealed the fens and marshes that were the product of a decay as pestiferous to the physical as the corruptions of the heaven-born passions are to the moral atmosphere. Life had given Helen an early maturity, that made her in- stinctively weigh all shows in a just balance, and, without destroying her faith in man's high destiny, which was anchored upon a rock, she keenly sep- arated the true from the false in her estimate of values. Her own intimate history was of a nature not to be communicated to the nearest friend, for her highest happiness was denied earthly form, but the consecration of her affections was such as to act reflectively for the happiness of others, and she sometimes felt as if she were looking on life as a disembodied spirit might look upon it, inter- ested in it, but no longer of it.
When Isabella first returned to Cuba, she was plunged into scenes and modes of life which she had wholly forgotten, and with which time only made her familiar again. If it had not been for her constant intercourse with Helen, her American life might have become to her as a dream, but it had been passed at a susceptible age ; the bent had been given to her character, and its beneficent influences had been perpetuated by the friendship she had formed, and the fact that Helen had con- tinued to be the sole repositary of her new life.
Her father had felt the growing distaste to the thought of slavery when he had visited her froni
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time to time, although it was before the days when that subject was specifically agitated in the States, and when she returned to him he carefully guarded her from the worst aspects of it. When she mar- ried the Marquis of Rodriguez, he favored her in the same manner. Both the father and the hus- band were kind masters, up to the average of a slave-holder's possibility, and had seen enough of European life to be willing to disguise the most revolting aspects of slavery to Isabella. And Isabella soon learned not to inquire too curiously.
It is astonishing to observe how people can shade their own eyes from what is around them. But Isabella's heart was a tender and true one. She was a conscientious and considerate mistress, sacri- ficing much of her comfort and convenience rather than recurring to her overseer for aid when her people tried her patience and even endurance, as they often did. This leniency subjected her to many impositions, but she soon surrounded herself with affectionate servants, made so by her kind- ness. She had grown up a Protestant, not of the protesting kind, for she had been educated among liberal-minded Americans, who valued the substance of religion as exemplified in the life, rather than its forms and creeds.
When children came to her, she taught them to feel, because she felt it, that every child has a heavenly endowment that can make him a Christ child in his own sphere if he but obeys his con-
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science, which is the voice of God within him. This is all the religious instruction children need, and is adapted to every emergency of their lives, as this good mother found.
After Isabella became a mother, she gave up the half-yearly city life which is customary with every planter who can afford to spend the winter in the city, and her husband yielded willingly to her de- sire for an American nursery-woman. Helen had sent her an excellent one, not an uneducated ser- vant, but one who could intelligently assist her in the early training of her children, as well as take care of their infantile wants. Mrs. Warwick had lived with her ever since the birth of Ludovico, and the children's nursery was a spacious apart- ment which was the children's home when they were not with their mother. Mrs. Warwick's superintendence necessarily made English the lan- guage of the nursery, and this in itself was a protection. The Marchioness had not followed the usual Spanish custom of assigning to each child a little slave to be its servant, so fruitful a source of corruption in a slave community. Her children were never left to their companionship nor allowed to domineer over them.
The nursery over which Mrs. Warwick presided occupied the largest room in the mansion, next to the great hall. It was a little heaven to Helen, and she passed much time in it. The Marchion- ess devoted some hours of the morning to the in-
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struction of the children: and Helen now partici- pated in this pleasant duty. She also taught them innumerable pretty works, and many songs, for she had a delightful voice, and the musical little Span- iards were never tired of hearing her sing, and of learning them from her lips. The children passed most of their indoor life in this charming room, which contained not only everything that could amuse and interest children, but lovely works of art ; and Isabella liked to have them live as much out of the influence of guests as possible, so cor- rupting is the ordinary conversation of idle- minded people. Especially at this holiday season, and, indeed, in all the dry winter season, the country is full of city people, and Spanish hospi- tality must keep open house.
Mrs. Warwick was not made a drudge. Isabella insisted upon her retiring to her own apartment when she herself "kept school," as she called it, which she did early in the day. Mrs. Warwick often walked out by herself at these hours, and the Marchioness knew very well that she visited the chicken-house, and the hospital, and any cabins that she pleased. She never asked any questions, but listened when Mrs. Warwick had anything to communicate, and by this means had many more opportunities to relieve suffering. If Camilla had anything to say upon the subject, she perempto- rily silenced her, and Camilla had long since re- signed herself to the fact that Mrs. Warwick
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enjoyed a confidence she did not. Of course, she avenged herself whenever she could, and found plenty of ways to do it ; but Mrs. Warwick saw that she was no more of a victim than the Mar- chioness, and knew that both had a champion in the Marquis when things came to an extremity. A word from him arrested Camilla's tongue, as nothing else did ; and her tongue was her chief instrument of vengeance, though she did not hesi- tate to use other means when she could. She was not allowed to invade the nursery, and the children never came out of it unattended either by Mrs. Warwick or their mother. There are even Span- ish mothers, exceptional cases, who devote them- selves personally to the education of their children. In such cases, they are usually sent to the States or to France as soon as they are old enough to be sent from home ; and when this cannot be done, the resource seems to be to teach them to look upon "la gcnte,'' or " the people," as upon a race of inferior" beings, not to be miitatcd in anything. The strongest expression of disapprobation is : " Do you wish to be like the people?" who are a syn- onym for all evil. Even Manuel thought of them as people (in contradistinction to the people) for the first time, when Helen suggested the idea. He liked to talk to her about them, since his own sym- pathies had been so strongly excited ; and so did Carlito, who often followed her to her own apart- ment after he became well acquainted with her in
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the nursery, where he was always perfectly happy. She had checked him in speaking of "the people" before the little girls, who were still in the heaven of unconsciousness upon that fearful topic.
It is astonishing how long people can live on the surface of a volcano without realizing its dan- gers. We turn away from the contemplation of evils that are inevitable, and, when we veil them from our sight, they are to a certain extent non- existent to us. Manuel had never actually wit- nessed the punishment of a slave. He had heard the noise on that fearful night of Helen's arrival, but he had been lulled to sleep again as the other children were. This could not have been done if the house had stood on a level with the ground, as most of the Cuban country-houses do, but the abode of the Marquis of Rodriguez might be called a palace, and twenty or thirty steps led up to the apartments of the famil}'. The rooms of the household slaves were below, with other domes- tic offices. Manuel knew that punishments took place, but this was the first revelation to him of their violence. The former overseer was not pas- sionate or cruel. Manuel did not know that he was forbidden to visit the punished slaves because they were left such cruel spectacles (they rarely emerge from the hospital under a month). He had an im- pression that punished slaves, as part of their pun- ishment, were not allowed to partake of the nice viands his mother sent and carried to the sick.
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He knew enough to prevent him from betraying a slave, but this was his first acquaintance with the whole truth, and it was a lesson he never forgot. Good, kind old Carlo he loved very much. Carlito had been much shielded also, for in the city the slaves are sent to the public stocks to be punished. It is not a scene for "ears or eyes polite." In private families, however, the ladies often keep a private whip, with which they slash their maids across the face and neck when displeased with them. Carlito's kind mama was not a lady of that order, and hitherto, when the fresh cargoes were sent from the family hospital to be sold, Car- lito heard no more of them.
Helen's heart fainted within her, when she thought at what a cost these tender-hearted chil- dren were taught the sin of slavery, and she threw herself into the work of ameliorating the lesson to them as far as possible, without losing sight of the reactionary effect that she hoped and felt sure would follow. When the field slaves were absent at their labor, she and the Mar- chioness took the children out to play upon the driers, or to gather flowers in the gardens and hedges and portreros, as the woods were called. The flower circles practised in the hard floor of the piazza were tended chiefly by Juanita, who called the little naked children, that were con- stantly running about, to bring her water in their gourds ; and this was a pretty scene, which the
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children could watch from their nursery windows, without coming in actual contact with the lit- tle darkies, to whom they threw confectioneries and lumps of sugar. Then Camilla would come with her tubs of water and her drying-women, and her endearments and droll sayings (well watched and guarded) were a great source of amusement, which, strange to say, she rarely abused. She probably had wit enough to know that she would lose her chance of seeing them if she was not watchful of herself; and, amid all her oddities and vices, she did love children, especially zvJiite children.
" She would have been an ornament to society," the Marchioness said, one day, "if she had had the opportunity."
" Such activity must have a field," Helen thought to herself ; " it is not her fault that she has not a good one."
God leaves man to man. He does not interfere arbitrarily, even to do justice. You are your brother's keeper, he would signify, and he who runs may read.
The Marquis had assisted his wife in his chil- dren's education, and Ludovico was a young man of cultivated tastes and extensive reading. Gen- erous childhood always takes the part of the oppressed, where any chance for the develop- ment of sentiment is afforded, and an early repugnance to slavery had manifested itself in
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Ludovico, in which his mother inwardly rejoiced, while she was cautious not to impair his respect for his father. It was the Marquis' intention that he should go to France, as he had very de- cided scientific tastes, having inherited something of the Marquis of Ramonte's mathematical genius, and his mother hoped he would never return to the life of a planter, even if she was actually sep- arated from him. But she knew that he was too affectionate a son to lose his allegiance to his par- ents, and a dim hope sometimes took possession of her that he might be the means of freeing them all from the life of bondage — for the bond- age of the master is as veritable a fact as the bondage of the slave ; the one being a moral bond- age only, while the other is both a moral, an in- tellectual, and a physical one.
Thus far, Ludovico's existence was but a luxu- rious dream. He had not approached the solu- tion of the great problem of slavery. As yet it was only his instincts that were arrayed against it. It was a subject never discussed, rarely touched upon, and the customs of the society around him were such that the germ had not yet ex- panded. Except in his father's house, books and literature were subjects scarce alluded to. The best standard works, and all the periodical litera- ture of the day, were at his command, and he lived with his mother in a world of intellectual beauty. Life itself had hitherto been enjoyment
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THE MARCHIONESS.
107
enough, in that most delicious of all climates, surrounded by every luxury ; and Ludovico had scarcely yet separated himself from balmy air and soft skies, nature in all its loveliest aspects, happy affections, and gratified wishes, and become a con- scious, independent existence. Passion had not yet awakened into being any unsatisfied cravings, for his mother had never left him to prey upon himself, — but Ludovico's slumber was nearly at an end.
All development in those genial climes is prema- ture. A youth of sixteen enters society on a cer- tain footing of equality with older men. There is no boy-life, such as prevails in communities where they are thrown together in schools. Low and degrading pleasures ; hunting, and card-play- ing that has no intellectual excitement in it, cock- fighting, idle visiting, and dancing, and some cultivation of music are the chief diversions of country life. In the cities, bull-baiting, cock-fight- ing, and the opera are the chief amusements. la most houses, one sees no books but " Don Qui- xote," and no one can understand every-day Span- ish conversation who is not familiar with this work, for a proverb from it finishes off nearly every re- mark that is made. Helen was so puzzled by it that her friend told her she must surely read " Don Quixote " if she wished to take part or even understand common Spanish talk.
Drawing and painting were special accomplish-
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I06 THE MARCHJOXESS.
Ludovico, in which his mother inwardly rejoiced, while she was cautious not to impair his respect for his father. It was the Marquis' intention that he should go to France, as he had very de- cided scientific tastes, having inherited something of the Marquis of Ramonte's mathematical genius, and his mother hoped he would never return to the life of a planter, even if she was actually sep- arated from him. But she knew that he was too affectionate a son to lose his allegiance to his par- ents, and a dim hope sometimes took possession of her that he might be the means of freeing them all from the life of bondage — for the bond- age of the master is as veritable a fact as the bondage of the slave ; the one being a moral bond- age only, while the other is both a moral, an in- tellectual, and a physical one.
Thus far, Ludovico's existence was but a luxu- rious dream. He had not approached the solu- tion of the great problem of slavery. As yet it was only his instincts that were arrayed against it. It was a subject never discussed, rarely touched upon, and the customs of the society around him were such that the germ had not yet ex- panded. Except in his father's house, books and literature were subjects scarce alluded to. The best standard works, and all the periodical litera- ture of the day, were at his command, and he lived with his mother in a world of intellectual beauty. Life itself had hitherto been enjoyment
THE MARCHIONESS.
107
enough, in that most delicious of all climates, surrounded by every luxury ; and Ludovico had scarcely yet separated himself from balmy air and soft skies, nature in all its loveliest aspects, happy affections, and gratified wishes, and become a con- scious, independent existence. Passion had not yet awakened into being any unsatisfied cravings, for his mother had never left him to prey upon himself, — but Ludovico's slumber was nearly at an end.
All development in those genial climes is prema- ture. A youth of sixteen enters society on a cer- tain footing of equality with older men. There is no boy-life, such as prevails in communities where they are thrown together in schools. Low and degrading pleasures ; hunting, and card-play- ing that has no intellectual excitement in it, cock- fighting, idle visiting, and dancing, and some cultivation of music are the chief diversions of country life. In the cities, bull-baiting, cock-fight- ing, and the opera are the chief amusements. la most houses, one sees no books but " Don Qui- xote," and no one can understand every-day Span- ish conversation who is not familiar with this work, for a proverb from it finishes off nearly every re- mark that is made. Helen was so puzzled by it that her friend told her she must surely read " Don Quixote " if she wished to take part or even understand common Spanish talk.
Drawing and painting were special accomplish-
I08 THE MARCHIONESS.
ments of the Marchioness. She had studied bot- any with Helen, on Massachusetts' hills and in her valleys, and had imparted her taste and knowledge to Ludovico. Music is in the air in Cuba, and it requires little training to confine it within the keys or strings of an instrument. Spaniards are musical, negroes arc musical, and the very air is musical. Isabella played skilfully, and had in- structed her children. Ludovico had heard the best of Italian music all his life, sometimes at the opera in the city, and by the regimental bands, that had little else to do but practise it ; and al- ways in private life, for that and dancing were the only accomplishments there. European musicians always visited Havana, and the prevailing music of the hour was repeated on every plantation, with more or less skill. The Marchioness remarked to Helen one day that she could hardly produce so fine an effect as the young men who visited them, and who could sacar the music, as they called it, from a piano, with two fingers.
The vices that deform society are chiefly found in married life. I leave untouched the deep deg- radations growing out of the corruptions of city traders' life, where young men from the old coun- try form temporary connections in the families where they apprentice themselves for a few years, to make money in a way they are too high-born and bred to do at home, leaving often large families of children and forsaken wives, who have cherished
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secret hopes of being taken to Spain into higher stations than their own, and confine myself now to the upper classes of Cuban society, whose vices are siii generis.
Marriage in these classes is but a nominal thing, and if these ties are violated within the circle of one's visiting cards little opprobrium is attached to the violation. The social posi- tion is in no wise altered by it. Lapses from virtue in unmarried women are considered dis- graceful and are of rare occurrence, and there- fore no unmarried woman must be left alone with a male friend or a relative farther removed than parent or brother. Indeed, no unmarried lady can keep her father's house - alone with unblemished reputation. Not even with a priest would a careful mother leave her daughter for an hour.
It is true that women so corrupted are not received in high society, but the fact that left- handed families bear the sobriquet of Holy Families shows the average morality of soci- ety in the colonies, with perhaps some distant conception that there is something sacred in true affection.
It is impossible not to be aware that the institution of slavery deepens and extends these social evils in all communities. But where married women are oblisred to reconcile
jIO THE MARCHIONESS.
themselves to the facts of concubinage, prevalent in all slave communities, and this, of course, even without the excuse or sanction of affec- tion, perverted though it may be, the fountains of all virtue are poisoned, and it is only because the average civilization of Christendom is higher than -that of savage life, and that some measure of intellectual cultivation withholds mankind from the last degradation, that society does not lapse back into barbarism. It is indeed only barbarism a little refined and gilded, and the remark may be hazarded that where suffer- ing woman has any access to the founts of Chris- tian truth, however muddy with superstition, redemption is always possible, and not infre- quent. The very slaver's wife has her faith in God, though she sees man, who is made in his image, subjugated by her own husband. This is fact and not fiction. But female slave-holders are some- times more refinedly cruel than men.
Such were the reflections of Helen, as her occa- sional conversations with her friend unfolded the true condition of things around her. The con- fidence between them was such that no conceal- ment was attempted. Helen's only consolation was in seeing that the Marchioness' heart was still the loving and kindly one she had known it to be in her childhood, and that she suffered from slavery more than she was willing, for her hus-
THE MARCHIOXESS. HI
band's sake, to acknowledge. This was an earnest of higher internal life than a more comfortable apathy and acceptance of the evil could have been. Her personal happiness was in the affection of her husband and his warm appreciation of her.
CHAPTER VII.
THE DINNER.
Isabella and Helen had sank into their boutacles in the hall to rest a little before the visiting hour arrived, for the country was at that season full of company ; Camilla rushed into the hall, so suddenly that Helen was alarmed.
" Ah, my lady ! ah ! gentlemen coming ! Ave, Maria sanctissima! the nino Fernando! ah, yes, yes, see him, the niilo Fernando and the nino Pancho in the country, too. Ave, Maria sanctis- sima ! and there is the nino Pepe." Here she twitched off her shawl, and began dusting.
" No dusting at this hour, Camilla," was all the Marchioness had time to say before the young men had jumped from their horses and run up the steps. Camilla rushed forward, and called out from the piazza, "Jose! Tono ! Pablo! come take the gentlemen's horses." The gentlemen greeted her as she passed, which was evidently what she wished for.
"Ay! good day, niiio Fernando, many thanks, many thanks, very well, very well — and you, too, nino Pancho ! my life ! my soul ! and nino Pepe !
112
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Jose ! Tono ! Pablo ! are you sleeping ? bad boys ! Canailla ! why don't you come ? "
" Camilla, go and find them, and make no more noise," said Isabella, not quite so patiently as usual.
" Ay, yes ! my lady, going, going — yes — poor Carlo ! — poor Jacobo ! — poor Maria ! Ah, yes — the dogs, the dogs ! — did you see the dogs, niiio Fernando ! "
" Camilla, go instantly ! " said the Marchioness, with all the sternness she could command.
" Camilla seems more lively than usual to-day," said one of the gentlemen, who had in the mean- time greeted the ladies. *' Has anything unusual happened .-' "
Camilla, hearing her name, had stolen back, and was seen peeping from behind the door.
" Oh, yes ; poor Carlo ! poor Carlo ! "
" Camilla, be silent ! " exclaimed the IMarchion- ess, though in despair.
Camilla again moved slowly away, with her head sunk upon her arm, the picture of mock-woe and discomfiture ; but she was not sufficiently afraid of her mistress to be obedient — indeed, it was one of the trials of her mistress' life that this woman was upon her hands, though she always declared her to be a genius in her vocation.
The young men who had called this morning were intimate friends of the family, and under- stood both parties perfectly. Don Pepe, the
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youngest of the brothers, enjoyed nothing more than playing off the old orang-outang, as he always called Camilla, and the Marchioness rather dreaded the encounter to-day, for the theme was too sad a one for sport, and she would willingly have kept it wholly in the background. There is no such thing as privacy on a plantation ; the negroes are rapid means of communication, and a disaster on any plantation is soon known far and wide, and often with many exaggerations.
Isabella now presented these friends to Helen, with whose name they had long been familiar, and their warm welcome was very courteous and cordial. When she answered it in good Spanish their delight was boundless, for a visitor with whom they can talk is a boon on a plantation, which becomes a very tedious residence to young men and women, unless enlivened by entertaining company, for the Spaniards have few resources within themselves. The ladies embroider muslin for the dresses of the Christmas holidays, and the gentlemen hunt a few small game, make calls when the roads are good, get up dances when they can, even in the morning call, and, if it rains so hard that they cannot go out to ride, go to bed and endeavor to sleep away the time. They do not even indulge in the solace of a book, but are never tired of playing cards or billiards. Scarcely a family on the island was so cultivated as that of the Marchioness, whose literary resources made
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her a favorite in society, and she had a happy faculty of drawing" out what intelligence existed in the brains of her visitors. An introduction in the home of a friend puts an end to all reserve at once in a Spaniard, and the guest is adopted as one of an intimate circle, without farther prelimi- nary acquaintance. When a Spaniard tells a stranger that everything he has is at his disposal, and wishes him, at parting, to live a thousand years, it is very difficult not to believe him sin- cere, such is the potency of beautiful manners and the music of the language. " May God have you in his holy keeping," means no more than the French "a Dieu " or the English "Farewell"; but when such benevolent wishes are enforced by the "most ardent gestures, one feels as if Christian love and community of interests were ingredients of the atmosphere.
The Marquis and his son now entered from the gallery. The sound of their voices again brought Camilla from her little pantry, which stood adjacent to the dinner-gallery, and from which she could always see or hear what w^as passing in the hall.
" Camilla, sugar and water," said the Marquis.
"Ah, yes, mi alma ! Ludovico, my life ! apple of my eye ! core of my heart ! welcome home ! " Then, crossing her hands upon her bosom, she turned her head on one shoulder, and laughed foolishly to herself. " French ladies walk ! dogs very bad ! poor Carlo ! "
I 1 6 THE DINNER.
" Silence, fool ! " exclaimed the Marquis, in a voice that made Camilla disappear from the scene without farther word or pantomime ; and when she returned with the sugar and water, she came with noiseless tread and downcast eyes. Upon her arm hung a long linen napkin of the finest cambric, deeply embroidered, and edged with lace, upon which the gentlemen wiped their fingers and mouths after sipping the sugar and water. Don Pepe thanked her with much solemnity, but not a motion was apparent in her now stony counte- nance, and no sound issued from her lips. The stage effect with which she threw herself into each role that she assumed would have amused a light heart, but Helen could not smile to-day unless her thoughts were diverted from that ele- ment of the society in which she found herself, and of which she found it a constant compo- nent.
It was not long before Camilla reappeared, with a huge tray of oranges, peeled and halved, stacked high, and a pile of napkins on a small tray behind her, that was borne by a little barefooted, half- naked negro boy. The company sucked the juice from the oranges, and threw the skins upon the floor, which were seized and borne away by the little fellow after he had handed the napkins. He soon returned and gathered the napkins.
When the gentlemen walked away to the other end of the piazza, in conversation with the Mar-
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quis and Ludovico, Helen asked the i\Iarchioness if this was a common exhibition of Camilla's.
"Oh, very common; but it is not often that her master speaks so sternly to her. Probably she will not speak again to-day ; neither will she do anything. We shall all have to suffer on acco'unt of her discomfiture, particularly as these young men are here. Fernando is very discreet, but Pepe has no consideration for me, and cannot resist playing her off. Sometimes she gets up some rare dish for them, but if she is displeased with me, she knows she can annoy me by having a very meagre dinner, or by spoiling whatever she touches. I am her slave, I assure you. If I go to make any mquiries, — about the dessert, for mstance, — I shall only make the matter worse. I shall try hard to keep quiet. If I can privately communicate with Tom, the cook, who is as good- natured as she is i.l-tempered, I shall be sure to have his part of the dinner in good order. They are sworn enemies, and she will do everything she can to defeat his plans ; but it will be a comfort to have good meats and vegetables, if we cannot have good puddings, sweetmeats, and fruits. Per- haps Juanita will come in again, and she can sometimes outwit her. But Juanita is much out of spirits to-da^% as we all are."
The gentlemen, now possessed of what hap- pened the night before, of which they had heard rumors on the way, expressed great sympathy for the sufferers.
Il8 THE DINNER.
Helen's heart warmed up immediately to Don Fernando when he exclaimed, with much feeling, "Ah, la Marquesa ! what a sad thing this slavery- is ! I wish there was no such thing ! "
" So do I," said Ludovico. " I am going to the States to live; there is one part of them at least where there is no slavery, and I will brave the cold for the sake of turning my back upon it. I would not stay here if I were you, Miss VVent- worth. I know you think we are cruel and wicked people. / do."
A look from his father silenced Ludovico as effectually as it had Camilla, but Don Fernando w^ent on : " It is a sad inheritance. I sometimes wish I had never been out of the country, that I might not draw parallels. I think all the world that I have seen is pretty bad, but this is the worst that there is."
"Are you not talking dangerously, Don Fer- nando } " asked the Marquis.
"I don't know who there is to make me afraid," replied Fernando.
"But do you not risk promoting insurrection .'' "
"My people know just what I think, but I am not afraid of them."
"You have an excellent overseer."
" If he is as good when we are absent from the plantation as when we are here ; but he keeps very good order without severity."
" Your slaves are not new like mine."
THE DINNER. HO
" I know I have that advantage, and Dona Josefa IS a very gentle mistress. The people all love her well enough to obey her. They see that she has a fellow-feeling for them. You have good people too, Marquis. This accident must not dis- courage you. You have not so many deadheads to look after as we have had. They make the most trouble on a plantation."
All this was music to Helen's ear. It renewed her confidence in her friends, who must not suffer injustice from her because a bad man had done a bad action.
Still, the view she had had behind the scenes, in both her experiences, stamped the institution of slavery with the character it deserved.
Helen would fain have enlarged upon the sub- ject, but she saw the turn the conversation had taken was not agreeable to the host. Other guests came, and all was hilarity.
The recent death of Ferdinand of Spain had suppressed all the public festivities of Christmas the preceding year; a decree went forth, as part of the public mourning, that there should be no public dancing for six months. No other observance of the national loss (supposing it was such) could so effectually have saddened the countenances of the pleasure-loving Spaniards, to whom music and dancing are as nectar and ambrosia were to the gods of Olympus. Outward rebellion was impos- sible under a despotic monarchy and its despotic
I20
THE DINNER.
representatives ; but the spirit of the decree was thoroughly evaded by a proportionate increase of private music and dancing. The holidays were near at hand, the pressure would be lifted this year, and the proprietors of the plantations, most of whom lived in the city, were flocking to their country residences accompanied by troops of friends. Every day of the holidays must be spent in festivity and visiting. This was as much a part of the national religion as the observance of the festival days of the Church. Indeed, in Cuba the festal celebrations of the Church were scill relig- iously observed, while the fasts were wholly dis- pensed with, for, since the license that had prevailed in the colonies at the period of the Constitution in Spain, religion had been but a nominal thing except in the hearts of some devout women and aged men.
Village balls were to occupy every evening of the coming holidays. These take place in some public home of the village, and are supported by the gambling tables. Few skilled games are played m Cuba, but the guests bet upon the num- ber of spots upon a card, and then fall into the dance in another apartment, in the intervals of which they go to learn the fortunes of the game. Estates often change owners under the tremen- dous excitement of the play — not an intellectual excitement as in other regions, but strictly a moneyed one.
THE DINNER. 121
As Camilla was to all intents and purposes, through perverseness, off duty to-day, and as Carlo's family, the usual house servants, were disabled, the Marchioness was obliged to superintend in person the arrangements for a large number of guests, which number was liable to increase till the last moment. Tom was equal to all demands in his department, and the resources of the plantation in meats, fruits, and vegetables were inexhaustible, and sometimes Tom got up the best dinners when he was most intoxi- cated, but some exceptions to this always made his mistress tremble. Drinking was forbidden on this well regulated plantation, but Tom was the c/icfoi a deceased relative, who had bequeathed him to the IMarquis, and his equal was not known in the neighborhood, so that his delinquencies had to be winked at for the sake of his services. Besides this, Tom v/as the kindest, lovingest, and most faithful of servants, barring his infirmity. Camilla hated him because of his successes, but he did not hate any one, only coolly baffled her schemes, and, if she were off the ground from ill-tetnper, he would even venture upon her department and send in from his cooking cabin the choicest of pastry. This possibility was the only check upon Camilla's disloyalty to her kind mistress. If there had been no one to take her place in emergencies, the INIarchioness would have been a more unhappy victim then she was. The expenditure of talent in the art of tormenting on Camilla's part was
122 THE DINNER.
worthy of study. She was never so happy as when others were unhappy ; the greater confusion, the higher her spirits rose. If she felt good-natured, if her inexplicable vanity was gratified, she could do wonders. The Marchioness rejoiced to-day that Don Fernando and Don Pepe were there, for they always praised her for her achievements, and she took pride in calling forth their commendations, not realizing the degree to which they amused themselves by playing upon her weaknesses. What she might do to-day no one could conjecture. If she. would not speak all day there would be great rejoicing in high places, for this passive form of revenge was the least harmful under the present circumstances.
When the young people began to dance, which Ludovico promoted as soon as possible, Helen was rejoiced that there were enough dancers without her, and declined many urgent invitations to partake in the amusement. Her puritanic edu- cation did not admit of waltzing, but she could have enjoyed the poetry of motion as exemplified in the southern contra-dances, if the music and the gayety had not on this occasion seemed to her like heartless mockery. She would gladly have retired from the scene, but social life on the plantations does not a:dmit of that degree of self- indulgence. Every one is expected to do his part, by presence at least, especially m the country, where solitude is the rule and society the exception.
THE DINNER.
123
The beautiful Juanita, who had attracted her attention all day, moved slowly round among the company, bearing oranges. Her beauty and her tasteful dress attracted the attention of every one. Her features were very soft, though their contour was lofty, and the rich brown complexion was set off by a highly colored muslin handkerchief, that was twirled into a becoming turban, — a costume that prevailed among ladies as well as among slaves, differing only in the costliness of the material. There was not a lady in the company whose grace of motion, clearness of complexion, or dignity of mien surpassed hers. She lifted her eyes to no one, and no one addressed her in the presence of her mistress. A simple muslin dress, cut to her throat, with short sleeves that left exposed an arm that would make a sculptor rave, set off her singular Moorish beauty, which bore no trace of the negro.
The dinner was a success, in spite of Camilla's perversity. Tom was sober that day, and realized the importance of his position. It was even sup- posed that Camilla sometimes smuggled into his cabin a bottle of liquor, to defeat any plans he might form to baffle her. She could not make him quarrel, and did not dare to find fault with him aloud ; for Tom was one of the Marquis' pets, and of the Alarquis she stood in awe. She had been known to make his nice viands disappear mysteriously, at the very moment they were
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wanted. I say "had been known," but mumma Camilla was too skilled a diplomatist ever to have been detected in such practices. It was only by inference that such things could ever be laid at her door, — circumstantial evidence, whose weight she was herself unable to estimate ; sudden ac- cess of good spirits ; preternatural activity to supply the deficiency, or pretended eagerness to discover the culprit, laying the charge, perhaps, to some unfortunate individual who had offended her, or even to Tom himself. No missing spoons were ever found in her baskets, but she would sometimes produce them with : " Does any one know how to find lost things like mumma Ca- milla ? " And, if asked where they were found, she would shake her head mysteriously. " Povere- cita (poor little one) ! Canailla! we will not tell this time ; it will never be done there again. My eyes are open now, and it would be hard to punish her the first time ! " When pressed, as had some- times been the case, punishment had been admin- istered in the wrong places, and her mistress preferred, upon the whole, to pretend belief in the old hag's superior knowledge and benevolence, especially if things came back in due time ; and she found that their reappearance was invariably in the inverse ratio to the anxiety she expressed. Tom was the most kind-hearted of human crea- tures. He could not wring a chicken's neck without turning his head aside. He made toys
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for the children, cages for their birds, nets for catching fishes from the lagoon, and traps for game ; brought them flowers from the forest trees, and birds' eggs from the deserted nests. It will be seen that Tom was not wholly consistent in his benevolence, but he would not rob a mother- bird of its eggs. His good offices were not con- fined to his mistress' children. All the little darkies on the plantation were his friends. He bound them to him by bones from his stews and cooked vegetables from his kettles. They brought him wood from the portreros, vegetables from the garden, windfalls from the orange-trees, eggs from the hens' nests, when they could steal them slyly, — but hens were negro property, and woe be it to them if they were found out ! — such eggs were always ostensibly from stolen nests. Throus^h the children he undoubtedlv obtained the intoxicating draughts that were his passion, but no investigation had ever come to the bottom of this mystery. Tom was the only safe trans- gressor upon the plantation, for careful restric- tions were, in other cases, w^ell enforced upon this point.
But Tom never allowed the children to step over the threshold of his cabin, nor, indeed, did man or woman ever venture so far. He was lord and master of that domain. His cooking cabin was about twenty rods from the mansion, and he also appropriated twenty feet in circuit around it
126 THE DINNER.
for his various kettles, for his culinary apparatus inside (I do not know the nature of it) did not accommodate all the varieties of Tom's cookin^; exploits. Don Pancho, one of the present guests, had been known to put his head into the door occasionally, to request Tom not to put pepper into the food that day, for he had been in France and had acquired the notion that pepper was not good for himself. From some unaccountable reason, supposed by the imaginative to be a golden reason, which could be transmuted into comforting beverages, Tom did not resent this intrusion, but it was the solitary exception known. Helen took a great fancy for peeping in one day, but the Marchioness described Tom's idiosyn- crasy upon the subject, and also advised her not to do it on her own account, if she ever expected to relish her food again ; so she gave up the attempt and endeavored to forget that she had ever thought of it, although Isabella ended her remonstrance with " Fire purifies everything, you know."
When the company was fairly seated at table in the open gallery behind the saloon and shaded from the sun by the linen drapery, which at a sub- sequent hour was raised for air and for a view of the splendid flower-border that separated the house from the coffee-driers, flagons of cool water stand- ing in saucers and wreathed with flowers (a pecu- liarity of Spanish tables), with which Juanita had
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decked them to please Ludovico, for she cared little that day to please the company expected to the dinner, Camilla opened the door of her little pantry and came slowly forth, her face wrapped in a huge layer of cotton batting, and established herself with her dish-tub on the upper step of the gallery, where she was accustomed to wash the plates from the table as they were rapidly changed for the different courses. Her mistress would gladly have dispensed with this spectacle, though there was a certain satisfaction in seeing one's plates so thoroughly washed as mumma Camilla was in the habit of washing them, but she dreaded the display and the noise that would probably ac- company it. Camilla walked slowly back and forth several times in pursuit of her soap and her cloths, her arms hanging lifeless as it were before her, her head drawn a little aside, apparently in pain, and her eyes red and swollen with weeping. When several of the company who knew her and had often been amused by her spoke to her, and ex- pressed pity for her pain, she answered them only in pantomime, pointing with solemn gestures to her face, shaking her head, and drawing deep sighs.
" Mumma Camilla has the toothache," said Don Pepe to Ludovico across Miss Wentworth. " Shall I send her a dish of soup } "
It is a Spanish custom to send tidbits to friends across the table.
128 THE DINNER.
' " Ay, Pepe ! if you have any pity upon us, do not take any notice of her," said Ludovico. " There are strangers sitting by mama, and I am afraid the old creature will do some ridiculous thing."
" For my part," said Don Pepe, " I am never satisfied till I have had a little fun with mumma Camilla."
Camilla's eyes were not so swollen that she could not see that Don Pepe was ready for a frolic, and, catching the sound of her name, she sat down on the steps of the gallery, and began to wash some plates just taken from the table.
" Ay, no ! mumma Camilla, do not sit in that wind ; it will make your toothache worse."
A solemn shake of the head and a furious clat- ter of plates was the only notice taken of this kindly warning, nor could Pepe, by all his arts, elicit a word. If crockery could speak an intelli- gible language, it would have been all-sufficient, and the din waxed louder and louder, till the Mar- quis uttered in a loud voice, " Silenzio ! go to your pantry, Camilla."
There was no appeal from this, and slowly and despondingly Camilla obeyed — but before long she emerged with a young assistant, who took her place at the tub, and every time she made the slightest noise wdth a plate, Camilla warned her with a sign from her finger. She watched the Marquis' eye, and if it turned to the other side,
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she indulged in frantic pantomimes of pain — but she was vigilant enough not to let him catch her at that amusement. She took no notice of Tom's wonderful performances in the way of pastry, but Pepe did his best to praise them and to send tid- bits of them to his friends around the table, for each of which Camilla was called upon for a plate. Fernando turned his reproving eye upon him several times, but he was as incorrigible as Camilla herself, and did his best to make a sensation.
When the meats and pies w^ere disposed of, the Marquis gave a signal, and the company rose and walked out upon the piazza on the other side of the saloon for refreshments, while the fruits and sweetmeats and some light wines were set upon the table, when the company reseated themselves, changing their former places for variety, and sat an hour longer. The party broke up after another dance, and the wearied hosts separated, hoping to rest after their thirty-six hours of excitement.
And every day was a partial repetition of sim- ilar scenes, till the holidays were over.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE DRIVE.
The quitrin which was whirled to the door after the departure of the guests was a volante with a movable top which can be thrown back like an old-fashioned English chaise. The cale- sero was in his gayest holiday livery, for he had been in attendance at the dinner table where the coachmen even of the guests wait upon their masters.
The harness was of burnished silver, polished to its utmost brilliancy, and the liveries were slashed with blue, and embroidered with silver lace. Long blue ribbons floated from the steeple- crowned hat of the calesero, with gay cockades to match, fastened upon the side of the steeple with large silver buttons. The blue silk linings and curtains of the quitrin were trimmed with deep silver fringe. There was not a more tasteful car- riage in the island.
" This turn-out is especially in honor of you," said the Marquesa to her friend. " I suppose Pope Urban, as we call him, thought the carriage should match the liveries to-day, and every slave on the
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plantation knows that you are my particular American friend. Pope Urban has almost given up driving, since he has grown so old, but I under- stand this is a compliment to myself."
Before Helen was aware, Pope Urban had deftly lifted and deposited her in the sky-blue quitrin, and then performed the same office for his lady.
"I have had many a ride in a basket on Pope Urban's head. He considers me his especial prop- erty, and was a present from my kind father on my marriage."
One horse was placed between the shafts, the other outside, and the latter Pope Urban bestrode, with much grace, holding the reins almost at arm's length.
" What a fatiguing mode of guiding the horses," said Helen.
"Yes," replied her friend, "the caleseros do not generally live to be as old as Pope Urban. The position in which they drive soon affects the chest. But this old man has been favored. He superintends the younger caleseros, and rarely drives now. But I always feel safest in his hands. The boys have great command over the horses, with whom they are brought up as daily companions, but they are so careless that I never ride without trembling, — and indeed I rarely take out the children without my husband is with me, and he uses reins and an American bit to please me. This bit which Urban uses does not pass
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through the mouth, but only above and below it, and it never seems so safe to me. Pope Urban is always prompt too. I did not expect to see the volante for an hour to come. One New England domestic will do the work of half a dozen slaves, and in half the time. But it is a sad pity that you are plunged at once into this painful subject. I hoped to veil it from your eyes for a long time. Indeed, this dreadful occurrence is the first experi- ence of the kind since my marriage. My husband has been so careful, and our good overseer never exposed anything to me."
Helen wondered if he was good to those below him as well as to those above him.
" Camilla was spoiled before I came to La Con- solacion. A former overseer ruined her, and they became such tyrants together that the whole rule was taken from the master's hands, till on one occasion they ventured a little too far, and he was dismissed, and Camilla sent into the field till her proud spirit was humbled a little. Since my regime she has taken me for her slave ; but she is so useful I cannot do without her, and when my children are ill she is like one inspired. She is never so well content as when the power is all in her own hands."
"You are under bondage, indeed, dear Isabella," exclaimed Helen. " Forgive me for reproaching you this morning."
" Oh, yes, dear, fully. To tell the truth, there
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was a certain satisfaction in listening to your indignation. But my husband does the best he can. Many of these people are raw Africans. The cholera desolated this part of the island last year, and we lost more than half our people. It is very difificult to break the new ones in."
As the Marquesa spoke, the horse in the shafts gave a sudden start, and nearly disengaged the reins from the hand of Pope Urban. But, though unprepared, his presence of mind did not forsake him, and he drew him up strongly, directly oppo- site the object of his terror, judging, doubtless, that if he left it behind, he should not be able to restrain his flight. The sharp prickers on the bit penetrated his flesh above and below the mouth, and the blood spouted forth. This arrested his progress, and he suddenly stopped, trembling violently.
A little old man, frightful enough in aspect to have terrified man or beast, rose from the brink of a large marble basin to sue for money. He did not mean to frighten the horse, and probably a chicken in the hedge would have produced the same effect upon the noble animal.
"What are you doing here, Jose.''" said the Marquesa.
" Dead fish kill fish, — take out dead fish," he answered, in broken Spanish.
" Go to the other side, away from the park, for fear of frightening other horses. If Pablo had
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been driving, we should have been run away with."
'•'Much sorry, huly — good lady. Urbano know horse, — horse know Urbano," he added, and, seeing the blood flow from the horse's mouth, he dropped his gourd into the water and put it to the poor beast's mouth, and then threw the remainder over his head. The grateful animal, quite tamed down, acknowledged the kindness with expressive motions of his ears, and they rode on in silence for some time.
" You see they are not all Urbans, dear Helen. That is one of the bozals that came last year ; he is a cripple from some cause, but was bought in a large coffle, and has never been put to hard work."
Helen did not wish to know how he had been reduced to such a hideous semblance of humanity, and only replied : —
" He has a kind heart left."
" Oh, yes," said the Marquesa, " they are a kindly race ; but let us not talk of them any more now. I am afraid you will not observe all the beauties around you. Is not my rose hedge beautiful .'' "
The hedge was about three feet in height and now in full bloom of clustered roses, as delicate and almost as small as the Multiflora. It looked indeed like a bank of roses.
Helen had not been unmindful of the stately
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palm-avenues she had threaded the night before, but even the rosy sunset did not make tliem glorious to her to-day. All was darkened to her vision, and the long avenues, imposing as they were, no longer seemed to her living pillars of beauty, spreading their tufted foliage as an ex- pression of their own inward joy for the fulness of life ; for here the very plants of the earth seemed to breath consciously, from the spiritual night-blooming cereus — which expands after the sun goes down from bud to flower, before the astonished gaze of the beholder — to the more homely grain, which springs from the rich earth the very day after it is planted.
The mysterious shadows of the cocoas, which the day before looked like the guardians of hidden coolness, as they interposed their rustling shields between her and the burning sun when the horses' heads were turned into their friendly avenues for rest and refreshment, now cast a melancholy veil over the earth they shaded, and the stiff leaves whispered sad secrets of wrong done and unredeemed. The Gothic arches of the bamboo alleys were in consonance with her feel- ings. The deciduous leaf, which is constantly falling, forms a thick russet carpet under the plumy foliage of these gigantic tufted grasses, whose tops, interlaced in an impenetrable roof, give no access to the sun, and impart the sensa- tion of a cool grotto. Every pore is sensitive to
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the influences of nature in this delicious cHmate. Each plant and tree tells its own tale, awakens its own analogy with life ; but these analogies are but echoes of the soul that lays itself open to their influences.
When they emerged into an open plain and she saw groups of palm-trees in the distance^ where they stood, in their native wildness, struggling up to the sky for light, it seemed to Helen that they were stretching away from the earth, lifting their tufted heads to the heavens to call down mercy upon the wretched world beneath them.
The negro gang was just crossing the plain, on their way home from a wood where they had been cutting brush, and as they passed the ladies they greeted them with the usual Spanish salutation, " May God have you in his holy keeping ! " which probably many of them did not understand them- selves.
A single garment constituted the dress of each. The men wore duck pantaloons, the women a short-sleeved, low chemise, fitting rather tight. Neither sex had any protection for the head, but had worked all day under the eye of the overseer, in the burning sun, scarcely daring to raise their heads for fear of the impending lash of the exas- perated wretch, who was obliged to superintend more closely than usual, since he had disabled his negro driver. The superintendence consists in working all equally, whether able or not, and
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quickening the laggards by the appHcation of the whip. Is it surprising that when their tormentor has to turn his back upon one gang, to visit another at some other spot, they all rest and even play, driver and all, for the ten or fifteen minutes of exemption ? Yet a certain amount of work must be done, or the punishment comes at the end of the day.
On this afternoon, to close the day's work, they had been sent to cut brush, and were returning, unusually wearied and heavily laden and foot-sore. There were brawny men and stout women among the recent bozals, but others were bent and feeble.
Over the sad faces of many a gleam of sunshine passed, as if of remembered kindness, and dazzling and angelic must have been the vision of their lady in her splendid vehicle.
One tall, slender, but athletic-looking young woman raised her eyes for a moment but passed on without bending her head or uttering a word, or making a gesture of salutation.
"Did you remark that girl's eye, Helen.''" said the Marquesa.
" I did indeed," she replied. " She looks like poor Dolores," was the passing thought.
It was indeed poor Dolores, though Helen did not realize the fact.
" I never saw it before, but I am glad she has looked at me at last. She is a recent bozal, and I
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have never before seen her but with downcast brow and eyes averted. No one has ever elicited anything but a monosyllable from her, and she has kept very much to herself, the women tell me. I have tried some of my arts to engage her attention, for I found Pope Urban much interested in her. She is a native of the same tribe as himself, and the only one he has ever seen. I am afraid this wicked overseer has not treated her well, for I am sure those eyes were more like the eyes of a wild animal than of a human being."
"The expression was indeed fearful," sa^d Helen. And again she saw the resemblance to Dolores, but, not thinking it likely to be she, she could not bring herself to tell that sad story.
As they crossed from one plantation to another, they passed deep forests whose verdure was fes- tooned together by giant vines, that often had smothered and hugged the life out of the trees that supported them ; becoming in their turn the supporters, and flourishing upon the juices of the trees embraced, they had usurped the domain of earth and air, which were the original possessors of the trees. One, more remarkable than the rest, had been chosen as the entrance to the avenue of a splendid domain, and Urban had purposely brought them that way to show it to the " Ameri- cana," and now drew up his horses under the wonderful natural arch. Two giant ceyba or cotton- wood trees that stood at the distance of thirty feet
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from each other, had, early in their growth, crossed their branches thirty feet above the head of a tall man, and both trees had continued to grow, had become encircled with an enormous vine, and now presented a symmetrical and perfect pointed arch. The two had then shot up straight into the air, joining their trunks and forming a double column. The intertwining had not checked their growth, but both had prospered.
The ceyba tree, whose roots appear afcove the ground, and |^m to support the shaft, shoots up to an immense height, and is surmounted by a crown of leaves of very delicate form and texture, so that it traces a fine net-work against the sky. A huge vine of the boa-constrictor species had grown up by the side of this one, laying its own roots parallel with the enormous cordages thrown out from the broad spread trunk, which balanced the mighty top, and thus enabled the shaft to re- sist the sweeping tornadoes, which would other- wise tear it from its bed. The vine had seemed to respect the picturesque arrangement of nature, for it did not begin to twine around the tree till it had grown above the archway, and then it wound its huge spirals about them both, bedding itself firmly in the bark as it grew, till the enormous trunk had withered in its embrace, so that one side of the arch was hollow to its very peak. The delicate foliage of the vine, adorned with pale yel- low flowers, crept over and around the branches
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of the original tree, mingled itself with the few re- maining living twigs of one portion of it, and hung its luxuriant tracery in the most graceful drapery over the whole. Our stateliest hemlocks hardly compare well in height with this tropical tree. Once in many years it bears flowers and fruit, which latter is bedded in a pod of the soft- est and silkiest down, not yet brought within the grasp of machinery, but used for beds and cush- ions. J«ust after the dropping of the pod, the tree loses its foliage for a time, but its symmetry is so exquisite that even in its nakedness it is sublime.
La Ascencion, where the Marchioness pro- posed to make a call, was the residence of Count von Miiller, one of the few Germans to be met with in the island. The approach from this unique gateway was through an avenue of mango and tamarind trees, that skirted a deep wood on either side. The mango trees, somewhat resem- bling the horse-chestnut in form, were weighed to the ground with the brilliant scarlet and orange, pear-shaped fruit, a great favorite with the island- ers, when cooked as a sauce. The long, shining, lanceolate leaves are not unlike those of our moun- tain-laurel. The feathery, acacia-like foliage of the tamarind contrasts finely with these. Under their shade grew many delicate plants, and among the rest was cultivated, carefully, one that is gen- erally found only in wild woods : the Campanula, a shrub surmounted by large, white, bell-shaped
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flowers of the frailest texture, half a foot in length, and of exquisite symmetry of shape. They looked like spiritual bells, too large for fairies, but too del- icate to be handled by mortal hands.
In a circle of tea-roses, all in rich and fragrant bloom, stood the house of Count von IMiiller. Be- hind it stretched away extensive stone coffee- driers, skirted in their turn by clay cottages, of' tasteful form, the habitations of the negroes.
When they drew up to the door, a huge tur- baned head, surmounting a plump, handsome mu- latto face, of proportionate dimensions, was thrust from a window, and as quickly withdrawn, but not till the beholders had had a full view of massive gold ear-pendants and necklace.
In a few moments, the portly dame, arrayed in a flowing robe of fine white linen, richly embroid- ered, and trimmed with lace, stepped upon the gallery. Count Von Miiller was not in the house, and a rabble of naked, black children, who ran across the gallery, were bid to seek him. As they stood gazing at the splendid quitrin, the portly negress enforced her words with a stamp and a slap or two, and drove them before her like a flock of geese, or, rather, black swans. They dived, jumped from the gallery, scampered through the hall, and fled in every direction ; but no sooner had the ladies alighted and seated themselves in the cool and comfortable boutacles, than they saw woolly little heads peeping in at doors and windows.
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The portly mulatto sauntered out into the gal- lery to enforce her authority, and this time the warning finger was accompanied by a threat which sent the naked little blackies scampering over the coffee-driers, as if to seek some place of safety.
" Count von Miiller rules five hundred slaves, and Mariana rules Count von Miiller," said the Marquesa, by way of explanation, during the ab- sence of that potentate.
"Has he no family .-'"
" Yes, if you can call half a dozen of these little yellow things a family. His lawful children are in Europe for their education, for his wife died before he came here, and he came to make money for them. But I doubt if he ever returns, for he has become quite a Creole in his domestic habits, and prides himself upon his model plantation."
Shocked as Helen was by what these habits appeared to be, she was glad to hear of a model plantation, and pleased herself with the hope that a man born outside of slavery institutions might have better conceptions of humanity than even an honorable Spaniard had risen to.
The return of the mistress of ceremonies, fol- lowed by servants bearing golden panetala (the very ideal of sponge cake) and oranges, already divested of their yellow skins, cut short farther conversation between the friends.
In a few moments the Count von Miiller
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appeared, a stocky, dumpy German, with bald head and blue eyes.
The Marquesa was a great favorite of his, be- cause she admired his plantation, and was in the habit of bringing her guests to see his improve- ments.
The main building ran all round a quadrangle, and they immediately began their walk through it, as there was much to be seen which Isabella justly thought would be pleasing to Helen, and which she unfortunately could not exhibit at home, for Spaniards follow in the beaten track, and even her own household ameliorations had broken in upon time-honored customs.
Adjoining the mansion was a large, latticed hall surrounded by a balustrade, and the ends of the gallery that ran on two sides of it were secured by wicker gates. In this hall stood innumerable bas- kets, fitted with clean cloths, on which reposed the future coffee-pickers of the plantation, and naked children of all ages above these babies were trot- ting about under the care of two nicely dressed negro women, who patted the babies kindly, and fed them out of civilized bowls. Next to this hall, which the Count facetiously called the crying-room, and where a good deal of that sort of music was going on, as is the case even in nice nurseries, was the picking-room, a long corridor with glass win- dows on each side, an almost unheard-of luxury on Spanish plantations, even in the apartments of the
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family. Down the centre of this corridor ran the plank tables, with benches on either side, for the sorters of coffee. This work is usually done in the open air, but the negroes suffer much from the heavy dews of the island in their early morn- ing labors. Then came the packing-room, in which innumerable empty bags were stored, this not being the packing season.
Farther on, and nearer to the family mansion, on the other side, was the hospital, with numerous appliances for the comfort of the sick. There were many patients in this hospital, and it was fre- quently suggested by the Count's friends that if all his plantation arrangements compared well with the hospital, there must be less occasion than in ordinary cases for feigning sickness. Helen was glad to see coarse straw hats on both men and women ; the Marquis' negroes working bare- headed.
When the ladies ascended the extensive driers that lay beyond the mansion, they had a fair view of the neat habitations and gardens of the " peo- ple."
It was plain that the Count pursued a different policy from the ordinary one of the colonies in re- gard to his negroes. Yet his wealth was the envy of all.
As the party turned towards the house again, they passed the ample stables. Planters pride themselves upon the number and beauty of their
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horses, and no one surpassed Count von Miiller in the possession of fine animals of the noblest breeds.
Helen was a horsewoman, and knew how to appreciate this taste. But, as she turned the cor- ner, a scene characteristic of slave institutions, even under the mildest regulation, burst upon her.
A group of colored men and women were stand- ing under a tree, to which was chained an infuri- ated blood-hound, from whose sides blood streamed upon the ground. Two negroes, also attached to a post, at a little distance from the dog, by long ropes, stood bleeding and apparently exhausted ; one held a whip, which was stained with the ani- mal's blood, and which he had just lifted to inflict another blow, when the overseer, seeing the com- pany, arrested his arm. But he could not prevent the blood-hound from springing and gnashing his teeth at the negroes who were within reach of him, and who had evidently been tormenting him.
" I beg your pardon, ladies," said the Count, " but you know, my lady," he said, apologetically addressing la Marquesa, " the white man is never bitten on my plantation. This training must be attended to."
The whole truth dawned upon Helen in a mo- ment. The next, she fell heavily upon Isabella's arm, and slid to the ground in happy unconscious- ness. It required little of the German's supera-
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bundant strength to lift her from the ground and carry her in his arms to the house, where he laid her upon a couch.
Isabella, scarcely more able to walk than Helen, sank into a chair and covered her face with her hands.
Mariana and other women brought water and wine, and did their best to restore the horrified visitors. Soon the room was partially filled with curious lookers-on, of all ages and complexions, but a furious stamp of the Count's foot and a threatening gesture of his uplifted hand cleared the space of intruders at once.
Isabella had never beheld this revolting sight before, though she well knew the mode of training the blood-hound to his work. As soon as Helen opened her eyes, her friend begged the Count to place her in the carriage, for she dreaded the repe- tition of the faintness, or the burning word that might burst from Helen.
" Your friend is a stranger, I see, my lady. I regret this accident very much," were his parting words, to which Isabella made a faint reply. She felt that she had no right to reproach him.
The fresh air and the motion soon restored Helen to full consciousness, and when they had driven from the door she was relieved by a violent fit of weeping, in which Isabella joined her.
It was long before either spoke. At last the Marquesa broke silence.
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" Ah, dear Helen ! what can you think of us ? I hoped to give you a pleasant picture to counter- balance your sad introduction to Cuban life — and this most shocking of all the horrors of slavery," and Isabella wept again convulsively.
Helen could not raise her eyes during the ride home. She did not wish to see the skies, so dese- crated by the earth, over which they hung so lovingly in their twilight beauty. Isabella tried to persuade her to look at their surpassing colors, "for, as I often remind you," she continued, " it is God's world still." But Cuban skies, palm-trees, bamboo, and all tropical glories, were inevitably associated henceforth in Helen's mind with the unutterable woes of humanity, such as they must be where the first principle of brotherhood is violated.
The words of the great preacher rang in her ears — " The sum of all villanies."
When they arrived at La Consolacion, she begged the Marquesa to excuse her to the family, and went at once to her own room.
The Marchioness had admired Count von Miiller for his benevolence, with apparent justice. But how can benevolence comport with the fact that a man brought up in free society goes to a slave-holding country for the purpose of making money at such a cost ? The Count's policy, as we have said, was to take care of his people's health, for he thought that paid better in the end, and his
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benevolence to white men induced him to have his dogs well trained so that they need not fall upon any one but a fugitive ; but the rules of his plantation were very rigid, the work he exacted very severe, the punishments for delinquency very terrible when they came. With true Anglo-Saxon sagacity, he saw that slackness of government produced slackness of service in the gentle race he domineered over. If he had tried the plan of giving them some interest in their labors, he might have struck something out of human souls, which hold all germs of motives, that would have made them labor with a will and serve his interests too, but he had not made that innovation with the rest, and even comfortable hospitals and picking rooms did not preclude the necessity of using force to extract the amount of labor he required. There is no North Star to a Cuban slave, but there are mountain fastnesses where they can hide and even intrench themselves. He boasted that he never punished the same individual twice, but what did that imply } The blue eyes could look soft and amiable upon an admiring friend, but they were pitiless when they looked upon the chattel whose blood and sinew he would transmute into gold.
Blood-hound training, it may be said, to the credit of most masters, is not usually done upon the plantations, but the cruelty is only once re- moved by being perpetrated elsewhere. It
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belongs to the institution of slavery, and no sophistry can evade the imputation, whether such dogs are trained by the overseers in Cuba, or by professional negro-hunters in the United States.
CHAPTER IX.
JUANITA.
One day when they were alone, Helen begged her friend to tell her the history of Juanita, who interested her deeply by her sadness and her beauty. The whirl of events had prevented her from coming much in contact with her, but she often saw her bendirg over her work, in the Mar- chioness' apartment, or occupied about the little children in the nursery, and she saw Ludovico apply to her as to a sister to supply his little wants.
"Juanita is so different from the rest of the people, I do not wonder you ask," said the Mar- chioness.
" You do not mean that she is a slave, Isabel," exclaimed Helen, almost gasping.
"Yes, dear Helen, it is even so," said the Marchioness, rising to