Mayne Reid

“ Here can I converse with men by thousands, whose souls are free—not politically alone, but free from vulgar error and fanatic superstition; here, in short, have I witnessed, not the perfectedness—for that belongs to a far future time—but the most advanced stage of civilisation yet reached upon the globe.
A dark shadow crosses my eye-glance, and my heart is stung with sudden pain. It is the shadow of a human being with a black skin. He is a slave!
For a moment or two the scene looks black! What is there to admire here—in these fields of golden sugar-cane, of waving maize, of snow-white cotton? ”

“ How with Aurore?
Mine was a night of reflections, in which pleasure and pain were singularly blended. The love of the quadroon was my source of pleasure; but, alas! pain predominated as my thoughts dwelt upon the Creole! That the latter loved me I no longer doubted; and this assurance, so far from giving me joy, filled me with keen regret. Accursed vanity, that can enjoy such a triumph,—vile heart, that can revel in a love it is unable to return! Mine did not: it grieved instead.
In thought I reviewed the short hours of intercourse that had passed between us—Eugénie Besançon and myself. ”

“ My gun rested idly in the hollow of my arm. The raccoon, which in the more open woods is nocturnal, is here abroad by day. I saw the creature plunging his food into the waters of the bayou, and skulking around the trunks of the cypresses. I saw the opossum gliding along the fallen log, and the red squirrel, like a stream of fire, brushing up the bark of the tall tulip-tree. I saw the large “swamp-hare” leap from her form by the selvage of the cane-brake; and, still more tempting game, the fallow-deer twice bounded before me, roused from its covert in the shady thickets of the pawpaw-trees. ”

“ I have more than once intoxicated myself to deaden the pitiful pain of a toothache. By the same means I resolved to relieve the dire aching of my heart.
The spirit of wine was nigh at hand, and might be imbibed in many forms.
In one corner of the “smoking-saloon” was the “bar,” with its elegant adornments—its rows of decanters and bottles, with silver stoppers and labels its glasses, and lemons, and sugar-crushers—its bouquet of aromatic mint and fragrant pines—its bunches of straw tubes for “sucking” the “mint-julep,” the “sherry-cobbler,” or the “claret sangaree.” ”

“ To-day, by the laws of Louisiana, I am a woman,—and none more unhappy in all the land. The same sun that has risen upon the natal day of my majority looks down upon the ruin of my fortune!
“It was my design to have made you happy: to have proved that I am not ungrateful. Alas! it is no longer in my power. I am, no more the proprietor of the plantation Besançon,—no more the mistress of Aurore! All is gone from me, and Eugénie Besançon is now a beggar. Ah, Monsieur! it is a sad tale, and I know not what will be its end.
“Alas! there are griefs harder to hear than the loss of fortune. ”

“ All this is little—is mild, when compared with the positive disgust and horror felt for the “white” who would ally himself in marriage with a slave! No matter how white she be, no matter how beautiful—even lovely as Aurore—he who would make her his wife must bear her away from her native land, far from the scenes where she has hitherto been known! His mistress—all! that is another affair. An alliance of this nature is pardonable. The “society” of the South is satisfied with the slave-mistress; but the slave-wife—that is an impossibility, an incongruity not to be borne! ”

“ There is deep darkness upon the water, but this is no impediment. The red fires glow; the blaze stands high above the tall funnels; steam booms from the iron pipes; the huge paddles lash the water into foam; the timbers creak and tremble under the fierce pressure, and the boats move on!
It is near midnight. A space of two hundred yards alone separates the steamers—the Belle is bounding upon the waves of the Magnolia. In less than ten minutes her head will overlap the stern of her rival. In less than twenty, and the cheer of victory rising from her deck will peal from shore to shore! ”

“ There was the regular “negro-trader,” a tall lathy fellow, with harsh horse-dealer features, careless dress, loose coat, slouching broad-brimmed hat, coarse boots, and painted quirt of raw hide,—the “cowskin,”—fit emblem of his calling.
In strong contrast to him was the elegantly-attired Creole, in coat of claret or blue, full-dress, with gold buttons, plated pantaloons, gaiter “bootees,” laced shirt, and diamond studs.
An older variety of the same might be seen in trousers of buff, nankeen jacket of the same material, and hat of Manilla or Panama set over his short-cropped snow-white hair. ”

“ The Sleuth-Hounds.
The shrill whistle, pealing along the water, pierced the dark aisles of the forest. It aroused the wild denizens of the lake, who, startled by such an unusual sound, answered it with their various cries in a screaming concert. The screech of the crane and the Louisiana heron, the hoarse hooting of owls, and the hoarser croak of the pelican, mingled together; and, louder than all, the scream of the osprey and the voice of the bald eagle—the last falling upon the ear with sharp metallic repetitions that exactly resembled the filing of saws. ”

“ The human heart is its home, and they are but Quixotic dreamers who fancy that steam and civilisation are antagonistic to the purest aspirations of poetry. A sophism, indeed, is the chivalry of the savage. His rags, so picturesque, often cover a shivering form and a hungry stomach. Soldier though I may claim to be, I prefer the cheering roll of the busy mill to the thunder of the cannon—I regard the tall chimney, with its banner of black smoke, a far nobler sight than the fortress turret with its flouting and fickle flag. I hear sweet music in the plashing of the paddle-wheel ”

“ I see the huge sugar-house, or tobacco-shed, or cotton “pickery;” and there, too, are the neat “cabins,” clustering together or running in a row, like the bathing-boxes at a fashionable watering-place.
Now we are passing a plantation where they are making merry—a fête champètre. Many horses stand under the trees, “hitched” in the shade with saddles on, not a few of which are “ladies’ saddles.” In the verandah, the lawn, and through the orange shrubbery, may be seen moving about gentlemen and ladies richly attired. Music is heard, and there is dancing in the open air. ”

“ I am strongly in favour of a country life. I am a lover of the chase and the angle.
Perhaps if I were to analyse the feeling, I might find that these predilections have their source in a purer fountain—the love of Nature herself. I follow the deer in his tracks, because they lead me into the wildest solitudes of the forest—I follow the trout in its stream, because I am guided into still retreats, by the margin of shady pools, where human foot rarely treads. Once in the haunts of the fish and the game, my sporting energy dies within me. ”

“ In no part of the world are scenes like these; nowhere is soft beauty blended so harmoniously with wild picturesqueness.
And yet not a mountain meets the eye—not even a hill—but the dark cyprières, draped with the silvery tillandsia, form a background to the picture with all the grandeur of the pyrogenous granite!
The forest no longer fringes thee here. It has long since fallen before the planter’s axe; and the golden sugar-cane, the silvery rice, and the snowy cotton-plant, flourish in its stead. Forest enough has been left to adorn the picture. ”

“ Aurore loves me.
“Aurore loves me!”
The thought thus expressed was of younger date than the day of my removing to Bringiers from the plantation. A month had elapsed since that day.
The details of my life during that month would possess but little interest for you, reader; though to me every hour was fraught with hopes or fears that still hold a vivid place in my memory. When the heart is charged with love, every trifle connected with that love assumes the magnitude of an important matter; and thoughts or incidents that otherwise would soon be forgotten, hold a firm place in the memory. ”

“ Passengers rushed from the cabins, along the guards, and out to the front awning, and mingled their hurried interrogatories, “Who? What? Where?” A loud voice cried out—
“Some one overboard! A woman! it’s a woman!”
Knowing the cause of this ridiculous alarm, I gave no heed to it. My mind was occupied with a far different matter. The first shock of a hideous passion absorbed my whole soul, and I paid no attention to what was going on around me.
I had scarce recognised the face, when the boat rounding up-stream brought the angle of the cabin between it and me. ”

“ Aurore had beckoned me away, and I had left the room in a state of embarrassment and confusion—I scarce remembered how.
What would be the result? I trembled to think. Bitterness, hostility, revenge?
Surely a soul so pure, so noble, could not harbour such passions as these?
“No,” thought I; “Eugénie Besançon is too gentle, too womanly, to give way to them. Is there a hope that she may have pity on me, as I pity her? Or is there not? She is a Creole—she inherits the fiery passions of her race. ”

“ We were not the only living things. Even this hideous place had its denizens. It was the haunt and secure abode of the great saurian, whose horrid form could be distinguished in the gloom, now crawling along some prostrate trunk, now half mounted upon the protruding knees of the cypresses, or swimming with slow and stealthy stroke through the black liquid. Huge water-snakes could be seen, causing a tiny ripple as they passed from tree to tree, or lying coiled upon the projecting buttocks. The swamp-owl hovered on silent wing, and large brown bats pursued their insect prey. ”

“ On my soul, I hold that the slavery of the Louisiana black is less degrading than that of the white pleb of England. The poor, woolly-headed helot is the victim of conquest, and may claim to place himself in the honourable category of a prisoner of war. He has not willed his own bondage; while you, my grocer, and butcher, and baker—ay, and you, my fine city merchant, who fondly fancy yourself a freeman—ye are voluntary in your serfdom; ye are loyal to a political juggle that annually robs ye of half your year’s industry ”

“ In that very land, called prosaic—the land of dollars—I inhaled the very acmé of the poetic spirit; not from the rhythm of books, but expressed in the most beautiful types of the human form, in the noblest impulses of the human soul, in rock and stream, in bird, and leaf and flower. In that very city, which, thanks to perjured and prejudiced travellers, I had been taught to regard as a sort of outcast camp, I found humanity in its fairest forms—progress blended with pleasure—civilisation adorned with the spirit of chivalry as with a wreath. ”

“ He whose heart has been charged with a deep grief must know the relief which sympathy can afford. The sympathy of friendship is sweet and soothing. There is balm in the counsel of a kind companion.
My sorrow had been long pent up within my own bosom, and yearned to find expression. Stranger among strangers, I had no one to share it with me. Even to the good Reigart I had not confessed myself. With the exception of Aurore herself, Eugénie—poor Eugénie—was alone mistress of my secret. ”

“ I make bold to assert, that in the concave of that little crescent where lies the city of New Orleans will be found a psychological mélange of greater variety and interest than exists in any space of equal extent on the globe’s surface. There the passions, favoured by the clime, reach their fullest, highest development, Love and hate, joy and grief, avarice, ambition—all attain to perfect vigour. There, too, the moral virtues are met with in full purity. Cant has there no home, hypocrisy must be deep indeed to avoid exposure and punishment. ”

“ New Orleans is, par excellence, the city of the duello. In all matters of this kind the Kentuckian finds the Creole quite his equal—his full match in spirit, courage, and skill. I know many Creoles who are notorious for the number of their duels. An opera-singer or danseuse frequently causes half a score or more—according to her merits, or mayhap her demerits. The masqued and quadroon-balls are also frequent scenes of quarrel among the wine-heated bloods who frequent them. Let no one fancy that life in New Orleans is without incident or adventure. A less prosaic city it would be hard to find. ”

“ Far different were my suspicions when I found the voice belonged to Gayarre. He had power not only over the slave, but the mistress as well. Though suitor,—as I still believed him,—of Mademoiselle, he could not be blind to the superior charms of Aurore. Hideous wretch as I thought him, he might for all be sensible to love. The plainest may have a passion for the fairest. The Beast loved Beauty. ”

“ Ten minutes of apparent confusion—the quick trampling of feet over the decks and staging—half-a-dozen passengers hastening ashore—others hurrying in the opposite direction—the screeching of the steam—the rattling of huge fire-logs thrust endways up the furnace—at intervals the loud words of command—a peal of laughter at some rude jest, or the murmur of voices in the sadder accents of adieu. Ten minutes of these sights and sounds, and again was heard the ringing of the large bell—the signal that the boat was about to continue her course. ”

“ He had the reputation of being a great “’coon-hunter” and “bayou fisherman;” and in these pursuits no doubt he had picked up his canoe-craft.
It was the most singular voyage I had ever made. The pirogue floated in an element that more resembled ink than water. Not a ray of sun glanced across our path. The darkness of twilight was above and around us.
We glided along shadowy aisles, and amidst huge black trunks that rose like columns supporting a canopy of close-woven fronds. ”

“ Aurore!—Aurore!—Would that you were free! Would that you were some high-born dame! Not that I should love you the more—impossible—but then might I boldly woo, and freely win. Then I might hope—but now, alas! this horrid gulf—this social abyss that yawns between us. Well! it cannot separate souls. Our love shall bridge it—Ha!”
“Hilloa, Mister! What’s gwine wrong? Anybody fell overboard!”
I heeded not the rude interrogatory. A deeper pang absorbed my soul, forcing from me the wild exclamation that had given the speaker cause. ”