 | CHAPTER XII.
How the spoils of victory were intended to be divided. Sheppard Lee |  |
12. CHAPTER XII.
How the spoils of victory were intended to be divided.
The chief men in the conspiracy were, by all
consent, the fellow called Governor, of whom I have
said so much before; Parson Jim, who, although
a little in the background at first, had soon taken
a foremost stand, and was, indeed, the first to propose
active or fiery in the matter, but because I had become
prominent as the reader of the little book;
Cesar, the blacksmith; and a fellow named Zip,
or Scipio, who was the chief fiddler and banjo-player,
and had been therefore in great favour with
the family, until he lost it by some misconduct.
The parson having uttered the diabolical proposal
I mentioned before, and seeing it well received,
got up to make a speech to inflame our courage.
There was in his oration a good deal of preaching,
with a considerable sprinkling of scraps from the
Bible, such as he had picked up in the course of
his clerical career. What he chiefly harped on was
that greatness of the negro nation spoken of before,
and he discoursed so energetically of the great
kings and generals, “the great Faroes and Cannibals,”
as he called them, who had distinguished the
race in olden time, that all became ambitious to
figure with similar dignity in story.
“What you speak faw, pawson?” said Governor,
interrupting him, and looking round with the air of
a lord; “I be king, hah? and hab my sarvants to
wait on me!”
“What you say dah, Gub'nor?” cried Zip the
fiddler, with equal spirit: “You be king, I be president.”
“I be emp'ror, like dat ah nigga in High-ty!”
said another.
“I be constable!” cried a fourth.
“You be cuss'! you no go for de best man!”
and I lick any nigga I like! Who say me no, hah?
I smash him brain out—dem nigga!” Governor
was a tyrant already, and all began to be more or
less afraid of him. “I'll be de great man, and I
shall hab my choice ob de women: what you say
dat? I sall hab Missa Isabella faw my wife! Who
say me no dah?”
“Berry well!” cried Scipio: “I hab Missa
Edie”—that is, Miss Edith, the next in age, who
was, however, not yet thirteen, and therefore but a
poor little child.
“Brudder Zip,” said Jim the parson, “I speak
fust dah! The labourer is wordy ob his hiah—I
shall put my hand to de plough, and I shall hab
Missa Edie for my wife. Arter me, if you please,
brudder Zip!”
“Hold you jaw, Zip,” said King Governor to
the fiddler, who was ready to knock the parson
down. “You shall hab Massa Maja's wife, and
you shall cut his head off fust. As faw de oder
niggas he-ah, what faw use ob quar'lin? We shall
have wifes enough when we kills white massas;
gorry! we shall hab pick!”
And thus my companions apportioned among
themselves, in prospective, the wives and daughters
of their intended victims; and thus, doubtless,
they would have apportioned them in reality, had
the bloody enterprise been allowed the success its
projectors anticipated. I remember that my blood
suddenly froze within my veins when the conspiracy
those innocent, helpless maidens made the prey of
brutal murderers, was so shocking to my spirit that
I lost speech, and could scarce support myself on
my feet.
While I stood thus confused among them, the
conspirators determined upon a plan of action by
which, as far as I understood it, the houses of my
master and his son, the two being previously murdered,
were to be set on fire at the same moment,
on the following night, and at the sight of the
flames the slaves on several neighbouring plantations
were to fall upon their masters in like manner:
after which, the gangs from all the burnt
estates were to meet at a common rendezvous,
and march in a body against the neighbouring village,
the sacking of which they joyously looked
forward to as the first step in a career of conquest
and triumph—in other words, of murder and rapine.
Who would have thought that a little book, framed
by a philanthropist, for the humane purpose of
turning his neighbour from the error of his way,
should have lighted a torch in his dwelling only to
be quenched by blood! I am myself a witness that
the pamphlet was not one of those incendiary publications
of which so much is said, as being designed
for the eyes of slaves themselves, to exasperate
them to revolt. By no means; it was addressed
to the master, and of course was only designed for
him. Why the pictures were put in it, however, I
cannot imagine, since it may be supposed the master
the writer well enough without them. Perhaps
they were intended to divert his children.
The book, however, whatever may have been
the object for which it was written, had the effect
to make a hundred men, who were previously contented
with their lot in life, and perhaps as happy
as any other men ordained to a life of labour, the
victims of dissatisfaction and range, the enemies of
those they had once loved, and, in fine, the contrivers
and authors of their own destruction.
| CHAPTER XII.
How the spoils of victory were intended to be divided. Sheppard Lee | |