University of Virginia Library

27. XXVII.
“BURIAL IN RICHMOND AND RESURRECTION
IN BOSTON.”

A drama with this title, written by a colored
citizen (an artist by profession), the
characters being performed by colored citizens,
was played at the Melodeon last evening.
There were several white persons
present, though most of the audience were
colored. The great variety of colors made
a gay, and indeed we may say gorgeous
spectacle.

A hasty sketch of this great moral production
may not be uninteresting. Act 1st,
scene 1st, discloses a log-cabin, with fifteen
minutes' intermission between each log.
“William, a spirited slave,” and “John, the
obedient slave,” are in the cabin. William,
the spirited slave, says he will be free. His
blood is up. “Why,” says William, “am I

here thus? Was this frame made to be a
bondage? Shall these voice be hushed?
Never, never, never!” “Oh, don't say it
thus,” says John, the obedient slave, “for
thus it should not be. An' I tole ye what
it was, now, jes take keer of them pistiles
or they'll work yer ruins. Mind what I
say Wilyim. As for me I shall stay here
with my dear Julia!” (Immense applause.)
“And so it has come to this, ha?” said
William, the spirited slave, standing himself
up straight and brandishing his arms in a
terrific manner. “And so it has come to
this, ha? And this is a free land, so it has
come to this—to this—to this.” William
appeared to be somewhat confused at this
point, but a wealthy newsboy in the audience
helped him out by crying, “or any
other man.” John and William then embraced,
bitter tears moistening their manly
breasts. “Farwel, Wilyim,” said John, the
obedient slave, “and bless you, bless you,
me child.” The spirited slave walks off
and the obedient slave falls into a swoon.
Tableau: The Goddess of Liberty appears
in a Mackinaw blanket and pours incense
on the obedient slave. A member of the
orchestra gets up and softly warbles on a
bass drum. Angels are hearn singing in
the distance. Curtain falls, the audience
being soaking wet with tears.

Act 2, scene first, discloses the house of
Mr. Lyons, a slaveholder in Virginia. Mr.
Lyons, as we learn by the play, is “a member
of the Whig Congress.” He learns
that William, his spirited slave, has escaped.
This makes him very angry, and he says he
will break every bone in William's body.
He goes out and searches for William, but
cannot find him, and comes back. He
takes a heavy drink, is stricken with remorse
and declares his intention to become
a nun. John, the obedient slave, comes in
and asks permission to marry Julia. Mr.
Lyons says, certainly, by all means, and
preparations are made for the wedding.

The wedding takes place. The scene
that follows is rather incomprehensible. A
young mariner has a clandestine interview
with the obedient slave and receives $10 to
make a large box. An elderly mariner—
not that mariner, but another mariner—

rushes madly in and fires a horse-pistol into
the air. He wheels, and is about going off,
when a black Octoroon rushes madly in
and fires another horse-pistol at the retreating
mariner, who falls. He says he is going
to make a die of it. Says he should
have acted differently if he had only done
otherwise, which was right, or else it wouldn't
be so. He forgets his part and don't
say anything more, but he wraps himself
up in the American Flag and expires like
a son of a gentleman. More warblings on
the bass drum. The rest of the orchestra
endeavor to accompany the drum, but are
so deeply affected that they can't. There
is a death-like stillness in the house. All
was so still that had a cannon been fired
off it could have been distinctly seen.

The next scene discloses a large square
box. Several colored persons are seen
standing round the square box. The mariner
who was killed in the last scene commences
knocking off the cover of the box.
He pulls the cover off, and up jumps the
obedient slave and his wife! The obedient

slave and his dear Julia fall out of the box.
Great applause. They rush to the footlights
and kneel. Quick music by the orchestra,
in which the bass drum don't warble
so much as she did. “I'm free! I'm free!
I'm free!!” shrieks the obedient slave, “O
I'm free!” The stage is suddenly lighted
up in a gorgeous manner. The obedient
slave and his dear Julia continue kneeling.
The dead mariner blesses them. The Goddess
of Liberty appears again—this time in
a Beaver overcoat—and pours some more
incense on to the obedient slave. An allegorical
picture of Virtue appears in a red vest
and military boots, on the left proscenium.
John Brown the Barber appears as Lady
Macbeth, and says there is a blue tinge into
his nails, and consequently he is an Octoroon.
Another actor wants to define his
position on the Euclid street improvement,
but is hissed down. Curtain descends
amidst the admiring shouts of the audience,
red fire, music, and the violent assertion of
the obedient slave that he is free.

The play will not be repeated this evening,

as was announced. Due notice will be
given of its next performance. It is the
greatest effort of the kind that we ever witnessed.

Eating-Match for the Championship.—
We understand that preparations are making
for a grand Eating-Match for the
Championship of America, to take place in
this city some time next month. Two of
our most voracious eaters, whose names we
are not now permitted to give, will meet
somewhere beyond the city limits and proceed
to devour mush and milk until one of
them bursts. The one who don't burst will
be declared the victor, and come into possession
of the Championship and the stakes,
whatever they may be. The contestants
are now training for the trial.