The Entailed Hat; Or, Patty Cannon's Times
demand for negroes is so great, since the cotton-gin and the foreign
markets have made cotton a great staple, and the direct importation of
slaves from Africa has been stopped, that there is a great run for
border-state negroes, and free colored people seldom are righted when
they have been pulled across the line."
"They never are righted, Judge Custis! I'm ashamed of my native state.
Only a few years ago, when I was a boy, people around yer was a-freein'
of their niggers, and it was understood that slavery would a-die out,
an' everybody said, 'Let the evil thing go.' But niggers began to go up
high; they got to be wuth eight hunderd dollars whair they wasn't wuth
two hunderd; and all the politicians begun to say: 'Niggers is not fit
to be free. Niggers is the bulrush, or the bulwork, or bull-something of
our nation.' And then kidnapping of free niggers started, and the next
thing they'll kidnap free American citizens!"
"Tut! tut! James! it will never go that far."
"Won't it? What did Joe Johnson say to me last night before the
Washington Tavern? He said: 'I've sold whiter niggers than you, myself.
I kin run you to market an' git my price for you!'"
The bay sailor took off his hat.
"Look at me!" he continued; "by smoke! look on my brown skin and black
eyes an' coal black hair. Whair did they come from? They come from
Greece, whair Leonidas an' Marky Bozarris and all them fellers came
from: that's what my daddy said. He know'd better than me. I'm nothin'
but a pore Eastern Shore man sailing my little vessel, but I'm a
free-born man, and I tell you, Judge, it's a dangerous time when nothing
but his shade of color protects a free man."
"James Phoebus," the Judge said, gravely, "I hope you believe me when
I say that I think all these things outrages, and they grow out of the
greater outrage of slavery itself. We are being governed by new states,
hatched in the Southwest from the alligator eggs of old slavery, that
had grown into political and moral disrepute with us in Maryland and
Virginia."
"There's no nigger in me," Phoebus said, putting on his hat, "but I
have taken these hints about my looking like a nigger to heart, and I'll
take a nigger's part when he is imposed on, as if he was some of the
body and blood of my Lord Jesus. Now you hear it!"
"And brave enough you are to mean it, my honest fellow. So do my errand,
and good-morning, James."
CHAPTER XVI.
BELL-CROWN MAN.
As the Judge and Phoebus had turned the corner of the bank Samson Hat
appeared, driving down Princess Anne's broad main street a young white
girl.
"There's the nigger that set my peep in limbo," muttered the negro
dealer, "but even he shall go past to-day. This accursed town is packed
agin me."
He took a long look at Samson, however, who mildly returned it in the
most respectful manner, as if he had never seen the strange gentleman
before. "And now, my pals," Joe Johnson said, turning to Levin Dennis
and Jack Wonnell, "we will all three go down to the bay and I'll pervide
the lush, and pay the soap while you ketch the tarrapin, an' let me
sleep my nazy off."
"I'll go an' no mistake!" cried Jack Wonnell, who had been taking a
drink of pump-water out of his bell-crown. "So will you, Levin."
Levin Dennis hesitated; "I want to tell my mother first," he said,
"maybe she won't like me fur to go of a Sunday. She'll send Jimmy
Phoebus after me."
Joe Johnson took a bag of gold from inside his waist-band, hanging by a
loop there, and held up a piece of five before the boy's bright eyes:
"Yer, kid! That's yourn if you don't have no mother about it. Pike away
with me, pig widgeon, an' find your boat, and I pay you this pash at
sundown."
Levin's credulous eyes shone, and with one reluctant look towards his
mother's cottage he led the way into the country.
Little was said as they walked an hour or more towards the west, the
stranger apparently brooding upon his indignities, and twice passing
around the jug of brandy which Jack Wonnell was made to carry, and
before noon they came to a considerable creek, out in which was anchored
a small vessel bearing on her stern in illiterate, often inverted,
letters the name: _Ellenora Dennis_.
"What's that glibe on yonder?" asked Johnson, pointing to the letters.
"That's his mother's name, boss," Jack Wonnell said, hitching at the
stranger's breeches, "she's a widder, an' purty as a peach."
"Ain't you got no daddy, pore pap-lap?" Johnson asked coarsely.
"He's gone sence I was a baby," Levin answered; "he went on Judge
Custis's uncle's privateer that never was heard of no mo'. We don't know
if the British tuk him an' hanged him, or if the _Idy_ sunk somewhair
an' drowned him, or if she's a-sailin' away off. I has to take care of
mother."
"Humph!" growled Joe Johnson; "son of a gander and a gilflirt: purty
kid, too--got the ole families into him. No better loll for me!"
Drawing a punt concealed under some marsh brush, young Levin pushed off
to his vessel, made her tidy by a few changes, pulled up the jib, and
brought her in to the bank.
"Mr. Johnson, I never ketched tarrapin of a Sunday befo', but I reckon
tain't no harm."
"Harm? what's that?" Joe Johnson sneered. "Hark ye, boy, no funking with
me now! When I begin with a kinchin cove I starts squar. If ye think
it's wicked to ketch tarrapin, why, I want 'em caught. If you _don't_
keer, you kin jest stick up yer sail an' pint for Deil's Island, an'
we'll make it a woyige!"
Not quite clear as to his instructions, Levin took the tiller, and Jack
Wonnell superserviceably got the terrapin tongs, and stood in the bow
while the cat-boat skimmed down Monie Creek before a good breeze and a
lee tide. The chain dredge for terrapin was thrown over the side, but
the boat made too much sail for Wonnell to take more than one or two
tardy animals with his tongs, as they hovered around the transparent
bottoms making ready for their winter descent into the mud.
"Take up your dredge," Johnson commanded in a few minutes. "It makes us
go slow."
Jack Wonnell obediently made a few turns on the windlass, and as the bag
came up, two terrapin of the then common diamond-back variety rolled on
the deck, and a skilpot.
"That's enough tarrapins," Johnson said, "unless you're afraid it's
doin' wrong, Levin. Say, spooney! is it wicked now?"
The boy laughed, a little pale of face, and Johnson closed his remark
with:
"Nawthin' ain't wicked! Sunday is dustman's day to be broke by heroes.
D'ye s'pose yer daddy on the privateer wouldn't lick the British of a
Sunday? The way to git rich, sonny, is to break all the commandments at
the post, an' pick 'em up agin at the score!"
"That's the way, sho' as you're born. Whoop! Johnson, you got it right!"
chuckled Jack Wonnell, not clear as to what was said.
Levin Dennis felt a little shudder pass through him, but he gave the
stranger the helm, and by Wonnell's aid raised the main-sheet, and the
light boat went winging across Monie Bay, starting the water-fowl as it
tacked through them.
"Here's another swig all round," Joe Johnson exclaimed, "and then I'll
go below to lollop an hour, for I'm bloody lush."
Levin drank again, and it took the shuddering instinct out of him, and
Joe Johnson cried, as he disappeared into the little cabin:
"Ree-collect! You pint her for Deil's Island thoroughfare, and wake me,
pals, at the old camp-ground, fur to dine."
The two Princess Anne neighbors felt relieved of the long man's company,
and Jack Wonnell lay on his back astern and grinned at Levin as if there
was a great unknown joke or coincidence between them, finally
whispering:
"Where does he git all his gold?"
Levin shook his head:
"Can't tell, Jack, to save my life. Nigger tradin', I reckon. It must be
payin' business, Jack."
"Best business in the world. Wish I had a little of his money, Levin.
Hu-ue-oo!" giving a low shout, "then wouldn't I git my gal!"
"Who's yo' gal, Jack, for this winter?"
"You won't tell nobody, Levin?"
"No, hope I may die!"
Jack put his bell-crown up to the side of his mouth, executed another
grin, winked one eye knowingly, and whispered:
"Purty yaller Roxy, Jedge Custis's gal."
"She won't have nothin' to do with you, Jack; she's too well raised."
"She ain't had yit, Levin, but I'm follerin' of her aroun'. There ain't
no white gal in Princess Anne purty as them two house gals of Jedge
Custis's."
"Well, what kin you do with a nigger, Jack? You never kin marry her."
"Maybe I kin buy her, Levin."
"She ain't fur sale, Jack. Jedge Custis never sells no niggers. You
can't buy a nigger to save your life. When some of Jedge Custis's
niggers in Accomac run away he wouldn't let people hunt for 'em."
Jack Wonnell put his bell-crown to the side of his mouth again, grinned
hideously, and whispered:
"Kin you keep a secret?"
Levin nodded, yes.
"Hope a may die?"
"Hope I may die, Jack."'
"Jedge Custis is gwyn to be sold out by Meshach Milburn."
"What a lie, Jack!"
Levin let the tiller half go, and the _Ellenora Dennis_ swung round and
flapped her sails as if such news had driven all the wind out of them.
"Jack," Levin exclaimed, "Jimmy Phoebus says you've turned out a
reg'lar liar. Now I believe it, too."
"Hope I may die!" Jack Wonnell protested, "I never does lie: it's too
hard to find lies for things when people comes an' tells you, or you kin
see fur yourseff. Jimmy called me a liar fur sayin' Meshach Milburn was
gone into the Jedge's front do', but we saw him come out of it, didn't
we?"
"Yes, that was so; but this yer one is an awful lie."
"Well, Levin, purty yaller Roxy, she told me, an' she's too purty to
tell lies. I loves that gal like peach-an'-honey, Levin, an' I don't
keer whether she's white or no. She's mos' as white as me, an' a good
deal better."
"So you do talk to Roxy some?"
"Levin, I'll tell you all about it, an' you won't tell nobody. Well, I
picks magnoleys an' wild roses an' sich purty things fur Roxy to give
her missis, an' Roxy gives me cake, an' chicken, an' coffee at the back
door, knowin' I ain't got much to buy 'em with. Lord bless her! she
don't half know I don't think as much of them cakes an' snacks an' warm
rich coffee, as I do of her purty eyes. She's a white angel with a
little coffee in her blood, but it's ole Goverment Javey an' more than
half cream!"
Here Levin laughed loudly, and said that Jack must have learned that out
of a book.
"Oh," said Jack, shutting one eye hard and joining in the grin, "sence I
ben in love I kin say lots o' smart things like that. I have seen purty
little Roxy grow up from a chile, an' as she begin to round up and git
tall, says I: 'Nigger or no nigger, she's angel!' The white gals they
all throwed off on me, caze I wasn't earnin' nothin', an' I sot my eyes
on Roxy Custis an' I says: 'What kin I do fur to make her shine to me?'
So I kept a-follerin' of her everywhere, an' I see her one day comin'
along the road a-pickin' of the wild blossoms an' with her han' full of
'em, an' I says: 'Roxy, what you doin' of with them flowers?' 'They're
fur my missis, Miss Vesty,' says she; 'she lives on wild flowers, an'
they're all I has to give her, an' I want her to love me as much as
Virgie.' You see Levin, the t'other gal, Virgie, waits on Miss Custis,
an' Roxy she was a little jealous. Then I says: 'Roxy, I kin git you
flowers for your missis. I know whair the magnoleys is bloomin' the
whitest an' a-scentin' the whole day long.' 'Do you?' says she, 'Oh,
Mr. Wonnell, I would like to have a bunch of magnoleys to put on Miss
Vesty's toilet every day.' 'I'll git 'em fur you, Roxy,' says I, 'becaze
I allus thought you was a little beauty.' Says she: 'I'd give most
anything to surprise Miss Vesty with flowers every day,--rale wild