A Key to Uncle Tom's Cabin. Гарриет Бичер-Стоу

Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу A Key to Uncle Tom's Cabin - Гарриет Бичер-Стоу страница 3

A Key to Uncle Tom's Cabin - Гарриет Бичер-Стоу

Скачать книгу

you may be on the look-out. Please tell the constable to go on with the sale of John’s property; and, when the money is made, I will send on an order to you for it. Please attend to this for me; likewise write to me, and inform me of any negro you think has run away—no matter where you think he has come from, nor how far—and I will try and find out his master. Let me know where you think he is from, with all particular marks, and if I don’t find his master, Joe’s dead!

      Write to me about the crooked-fingered negro, and let me know which hand and which finger, color, &c.; likewise any mark the fellow has who says he got away from the negro-buyer, with his height and color, or any other you think has run off.

      Give my respects to your partner, and be sure you write to no person but myself. If any person writes to you, you can inform me of it, and I will try to buy from them. I think we can make money, if we do business together; for I have plenty of money, if you can find plenty of negroes. Let me know if Daniel is still where he was, and if you have heard anything of Francis since I left you. Accept for yourself my regard and esteem.

      Reuben B. Carlley.

      John C. Saunders.

      This letter strikingly illustrates the character of these fellow-patriots with whom the great men of our land have been acting in conjunction, in carrying out the beneficent provisions of the Fugitive Slave Law.

      With regard to the Kephart named in this letter the community of Boston may have a special interest to know further particulars, as he was one of the dignitaries sent from the South to assist the good citizens of that place in the religious and patriotic enterprise of 1851, at the time that Shadrach was unfortunately rescued. It therefore may be well to introduce somewhat particularly John Kephart, as sketched by Richard H. Dana, Jr., one of the lawyers employed in the defence of the perpetrators of the rescue.

      I shall never forget John Caphart. I have been eleven years at the bar, and in that time have seen many developments of vice and hardness, but I never met with anything so cold-blooded as the testimony of that man. John Caphart is a tall, sallow man, of about fifty, with jet-black hair, a restless, dark eye, and an anxious, care-worn look, which, had there been enough of moral element in the expression, might be called melancholy. His frame was strong, and in youth he had evidently been powerful, but he was not robust. Yet there was a calm, cruel look, a power of will and a quickness of muscular action, which still render him a terror in his vocation.

      In the manner of giving in his testimony there was no bluster or outward show of insolence. His contempt for the humane feelings of the audience and community about him was too true to require any assumption of that kind. He neither paraded nor attempted to conceal the worst features of his calling. He treated it as a matter of business which he knew the community shuddered at, but the moral nature of which he was utterly indifferent to, beyond a certain secret pleasure in thus indirectly inflicting a little torture on his hearers.

      I am not, however, altogether clear, to do John Caphart justice, that he is entirely conscience-proof. There was something in his anxious look which leaves one not without hope.

      At the first trial we did not know of his pursuits, and he passed merely as a police-man of Norfolk, Virginia. But, at the second trial, some one in the room gave me a hint of the occupations many of these police-men take to, which led to my cross-examination.

      From the Examination of John Caphart, in the “Rescue Trials,” at Boston, in June and Nov., 1851, and October, 1852.

      Question. Is it a part of your duty, as a police-man, to take up colored persons who are out after hours in the streets?

      Answer. Yes, sir.

      Q. What is done with them?

      A. We put them in the lock-up, and in the morning they are brought into court and ordered to be punished—those that are to be punished.

      Q. What punishment do they get?

      A. Not exceeding thirty-nine lashes.

      Q. Who gives them these lashes?

      A. Any of the officers. I do, sometimes.

      Q. Are you paid extra for this? How much?

      A. Fifty cents a head. It used to be sixty-two cents. Now it is fifty. Fifty cents for each one we arrest, and fifty more for each one we flog.

      Q. Are these persons you flog men and boys only, or are they women and girls also?

      A. Men, women, boys and girls, just as it happens.

      [The government interfered, and tried to prevent any further examination; and said, among other things, that he only performed his duty as police-officer under the law. After a discussion, Judge Curtis allowed it to proceed.]

      Q. Is your flogging confined to these cases? Do you not flog slaves at the request of their masters?

      A. Sometimes I do. Certainly, when I am called upon.

      Q. In these cases of private flogging, are the negroes sent to you? Have you a place for flogging?

      A. No. I go round, as I am sent for.

      Q. Is this part of your duty as an officer?

      A. No, sir.

      Q. In these cases of private flogging, do you inquire into the circumstances, to see what the fault has been, or if there is any?

      A. That’s none of my business. I do as I am requested. The master is responsible.

      Q. In these cases, too, I suppose you flog women and girls, as well as men.

      A. Women and men.

      Q. Mr. Caphart, how long have you been engaged in this business?

      A. Ever since 1836.

      Q. How many negroes do you suppose you have flogged, in all, women and children included?

      A. [Looking calmly round the room.] I don’t know how many niggers you have got here in Massachusetts, but I should think I had flogged as many as you’ve got in the state.

      [The same man testified that he was often employed to pursue fugitive slaves. His reply to the question was, “I never refuse a good job in that line.”]

      Q. Don’t they sometimes turn out bad jobs?

      A. Never, if I can help it.

      Q. Are they not sometimes discharged after you get them?

      A. Not often. I don’t know that they ever are, except those Portuguese the counsel read about.

      [I had found, in a Virginia report, a case of some two hundred Portuguese negroes, whom this John Caphart had seized from a vessel, and endeavored to get condemned as slaves, but whom the court discharged.]

      Hon. John P. Hale, associated with Mr. Dana, as counsel for the defence, in the Rescue Trials, said of him, in his closing argument:

      Why,

Скачать книгу