J. T. Trowbridge

“ Such a nature was the old clergyman's. Every blow his heart had received had softened it; and a softened heart is a well of interior happiness; it is more precious to its possessor than all outward gifts of friends and fortune. Such a nature, too, was Virginia's. She too, through all things, kept warm in her bosom that holy instinct of faith, that blessed babe named Love, ever humbly born, whose life within is a light that transfigures the world. To such, despair cannot come; for when the worst arrives, when all they cherished is gone, heaven is still left to them; and they look up and smile. ”

“ It is the same with every black man on this continent. Not one ever sold himself, or can be sold, or can be owned. For to say that what a man steals or takes by force is his, to dispose of as he chooses, is to go back to barbarism: it is not the law of any Christian land. So much," added Pomp, blowing the words from him, as if all the false arguments in favor of slavery were no more to the man's soul, and its eternal, God-given rights, than the breath he blew contemptuously forth into those mountain woods,—"so much for the claim of PROPERTY!" ”

“ He found Cudjo hastily relighting his torch. Virginia was sitting on a stone where Carl had placed her; powerless with the reaction of fear; her countenance, white as that of a snow-image in the gloom, turned upon Penn as if she knew not whether it was really he, or his apparition. She did not rise to meet him. She could not speak. Her eyes were as the eyes of one that beholds a miracle of God's mercy.
"Is no guns here?" cried Carl.
"De men hab all urn's guns,"' said Cudjo, over his kindlings. "Me gwine fotch 'em!" And, his torch lighted, he darted away. ”

“ Some wrung Penn's hand again. Pomp meanwhile, erect, and proud as a prince, with his arms folded upon his massive and swelling chest, smiled with deep and quiet satisfaction at the scene. There was another who smiled, too, her face suffused with love and pride ineffable, as her eyes watched the young Quaker, and her soul drank in his words.
"That's the sentiment!" said Stackridge. "And now, what is to be done? We have been disappointed in one thing. Our friends don't join us. One reason is, no doubt, they hain't got arms. But the main reason is, they look upon our cause as desperate. ”

“ Pomp was shaken. The touch on his arm, the tones of that voice, the electric light of those inspired eyes, moved him with a power that penetrated to his inmost soul. Yet he retained his haughty firmness, and said coldly,—
"If there had been mercy for this man, Penn would have obtained it. The hardest thing I ever did was to deny him. What is there to be said which he did not say?"
"O, he spoke earnestly and well!" replied Virginia. "I wondered how you could listen to him and not yield. But he is a man; and as a man he gave up all hope when reason failed, and he saw you so implacable. ”

“ All, who are not masters, are, or ought to be, slaves: black or white, it makes no difference; and the slave has no rights. This is the first principle of human slavery. This every slave society tends directly to develop. It may be kept carefully out of sight, but there it lurks, in the hardened hearts of men, like water within rocks. It is forever gushing up in little springs of despotism. Once it burst forth in a vast convulsive flood, and that was the Rebellion.
Although Lysander had never owned a slave, he had all his life breathed the atmosphere of the institution, and imbibed its spirit. ”

“ He sees the cascade falling over the ledge in a sheet of ruddy foam. He discovers the upper gorge; sees a monster of the forest come plunging and plashing down to the fall, and there lift himself on his haunches to look;—and what is that other object, half hidden by a drooping bough? It is Virginia clinging to the rocks.
A moment before, had Penn made the discovery of the young girl still unharmed by fire, his happiness would have been supreme. But now joy was checked by an appalling fear. The bear might seize her, or with a stroke of his paw hurl her from his path. ”

“ Penn, who had maintained a firm demeanor up to this time, was almost unmanned by it.
"God bless you, dear Carl! Remember that I loved you. Be always honest and upright; then, if you die the victim of wrong, it will be your oppressors, not you, who will be most unhappy. Good by, dear Carl. Bear my farewell to those we love. Don't stay and see me die, I entreat you!"
Yet Carl staid, sobbing with grief and rage.
"Why don't you hurry up this business?" cried Lysander Sprowl, angrily, coming out of the school-house. "Somebody tie a handkerchief over his eyes, and get through some time to-day." ”

“ He's one o' them fools that believe Slavery is God; and he can't get over it. Pomp, here, saved our lives in the fire the other night; and Deslow couldn't stand it. To owe his life to a runaway slave—that was too dreadful!" said Stackridge with savage sarcasm. "He's a man that would rather be roasted alive, and see his country ruined, I suppose, than do anything that might damage in the least degree his divine institution! There's the difference 'twixt him and me. Sence slavery has made war agin' the Union, and turned us out of our homes, I say, by the Lord! ”

“ He had known this man,—who was indeed the same Griffin, who had assisted the unwilling Pepperill to bring the tar-kettle to the wood-side on a certain memorable evening; ignorant, intemperate, too proud to work in a region where slavery made industry a disgrace, and yet a fierce champion of the system which was his greatest curse. Now there he lay, in his dirt, and rags, and blood, his neck shot through; the same expression of ferocious hate with which he had rushed to bayonet the schoolmaster still distorting his visage;—an object of horror and loathing. ”

“ At the same hour, not many miles away, on a rude couch in a mountain cave, by her father's side, Virginia was tranquilly sleeping, and dreaming of angel visits. Across the entrance of the cavern, like an ogre keeping guard, Cudjo was stretched on a bed of skins. The fire, which rarely went out, illumined faintly the subterranean gloom. By its light came one, and looked at the old man and his child sleeping there, so peacefully, so innocently, side by side. The face of the father was solemn, white, and calm; that of the maiden, smiling and sweet. The heart of the young man yearned within him ”

“ Penn started, and looked at her keenly.
"His name?"
"Augustus Bythewood."
Penn recoiled.
"What's the matter?"
"Virginia, that man is thy worst enemy? I did not tell thee how I learned that the arrests were to be made. But I will!" And he told her all.
"O," said she, "if I had only believed what my heart has always said of that man, and trusted less to my eyes and ears, he would never have deceived me! If he, then, is an enemy, what hope is there? O, my father!"
"Do not despair!" answered Penn, as cheerfully as he could. "Something may be done. Stackridge and his friends may have escaped. ”

“ The house of bondage is gloomier. Is it damp? It is not with the cruel sweat and blood of the slave's brow and back. Is it cold? The hearts of our tyrants are colder."
"I understand you," said Penn, whose suspicion was thus confirmed that these men were fugitives. "And I am deeply interested in you. How long have you lived here?"
"Would you like to hear something of my story?" said the negro, the expression of his eyes growing deep and stern,—his black, closely curling beard stirring with a proud smile that curved his lips. "Perhaps it will amuse you."
"Amuse me? No!" said Penn. ”

“ A man—only one—came through the undergrowth. Penn stopped. "God forgive me!" he said within himself; "but this is more than human nature can bear!" He had been, as it were, smitten on one cheek and on the other also: it was time to smite back. He picked up a club: his nerves became like steel as he grasped it: his eyes flashed fire.
The man advanced; he was unarmed. Suddenly Penn dropped his club, and uttered a cry of joy. It was his friend Stackridge.
"What! the Quaker will fight?" said the farmer, with a grim smile. ”

“ Don't ye take nobody dar! on'y Massa Hapgood."
"But he is blind!" said Penn.
"Others will come after who are not blind," said Pomp, his brow still stern and thoughtful.
"My friends," interposed the old clergyman, mildly, "do nothing for me that will bring danger to yourselves, I entreat you!"
These unselfish words, spoken with serious and benignant aspect, touched the generous chords in Pomp's breast.
"Why should we blacks have anything to do with this quarrel?" he said with earnest feeling. "Your friends down there"—meaning Stackridge and his party—"are all slaveholders or pro-slavery men. ”

“ Penn, pale, but perfectly self-possessed, expecting no mercy, no reprieve, made answer in a clear, strong voice,—
"I can't confess, for I am not guilty. I die an innocent man. I appeal to Heaven, before whose bar we must all appear, for the justice you deny me."
In his shirt sleeves, his head uncovered, his feet bare, his naked throat enclosed by the murderous cord, his hands bound behind him, he stood awaiting his fate. Carl in the mean time struggled in vain to break through the ring of soldiers that surrounded the extemporized scaffold,—screamed in vain to obtain a hearing. ”

“ Yea, and suffering and privation would be never anything to me, if I could always have thee with me, Virginia!"
How different, meanwhile, was the scene within the cave! How chafed the fiery Lysander! How spitefully Salina bit her lips ever at sight of him! And these two had once been lovers, and had seen rainbows span their future also! Is it love that unites such, or is it only the yearning for love? For love, the reality, fuses all qualities, and brings into harmony all clashing chords. ”

“ But a negro must not revolt, he must not even attempt to run away, although he feels the relentless heel of oppression grinding into the dust all his rights, all that is dear to him, all that he loves! A white man may take up arms to defend a bit of property; but a black man has no right to rise up and defend either his wife, or his child, or his liberty, or even his own life, against his master!"
Only the narrow-minded Deslow had the confidence to meet this stunning argument, enforced as it was by the speaker's powerful manner, superb physical manhood, and superior intelligence. ”

“ He went on, the light of the cave-fire throwing its ruddy flash on the group. "We are all His children. He has brought us together here for a purpose. The work to be done is for all men, for humanity: it is God's work. To that we should be willing to give everything—even our lives; even our selfish prejudices, dearer to some than their lives. I believe that upon the success of our cause depends, not the prosperity of any class of men, or of any race of men, only, but of all men, and all races. ”

“ Penn trembled with excitement as he saw the rebels cross swiftly forward, skulking among the bushes, to the summit of the ridge. The negro's eyes blazed, but he was perfectly cool. On one knee, his left foot advanced,—holding his rifle with one hand, and parting the bushes with the other,—he smiled as he observed the situation.
"Here," said he to Penn, "rest your gun in this little crotch. Now can you see to take aim?"
"Yes," said Penn, with his heart in his throat.
"Calm your nerves! Everything depends on our first shot. Wait till I give the word. See! they have discovered Stackridge!" ”

“ For Penn, though belonging to the meekest of sects, was of a soul by nature aspiring and proud. He had the good sense to know that the outrage committed on him was in reality no disgrace, except to those guilty of perpetrating it. Yet no one likes to appear ridiculous. And the man of elevated spirit instinctively shrinks from making known his misfortunes even to his best friends; he is ashamed of that for which he is in no sense to blame, and he would rather suffer heroically in secret, than become an object of pity. ”

“ He actually found himself on the point of saying "Massa Carl!"
Ah, this foolish old negro is not the only person who, in these times of national trouble, has been thus astonished! Carl is not the only hero who has suddenly emerged, to thrilled and wondering eyes, from the disguises of common life. How many a beloved "good-for-nothing" has gone from our streets and firesides, to reappear far off in a vision of glory! The school-fellows know not their comrade; the mother knows not her own son. ”

“ The rebels in the sink, fifteen in number, had had time to rally from their panic; and they now seemed inclined to make resistance. They were behind a natural breastwork, similar to that which had sheltered the patriots on the other side. They levelled their guns hastily and fired. One of the patriots fell: it was Withers.
"Give it to them!" shouted Pomp.
"Every cussed scoundrel of 'em!" Stackridge cried.
"Kill! kill! kill!" shrieked Cudjo.
"Surrender! surrender!" thundered Penn.
With such cries they charged over the rocks, straight at the faces and breasts of the confederates. ”

“ Penn was alone, in that subterranean solitude. There burned the fire, the shadows flickered, the smoke floated away into the depths of the dark cavern, in such loneliness and silence as he had never experienced before. He would have thought himself in some grotto of the gnomes, or some awful cell of enchantment, whose supernatural fire never went out, and whose smoke rolled away into darkness the same perpetually,—but for the sound of the crackling flames, and the sight of piles of wood on the floor, so strongly suggestive of human agency. ”

“ You deserve it. Every slave deserves the same that has the manliness to strike a blow for the good old government——"
"That has kept him a slave," added Pomp, with a bitter smile.
"Yes; and so much the more noble in him to fight for it!" said Stackridge. "Now, if you don't want to let us into the secrets of your way of life, I can't say I blame ye. We're glad to get the coffee; and if you've any game or potatoes on hand, that you can spare, we'll take 'em, and pay ye when we have a chance to forage for ourselves, which won't be long first." ”