AFTER the Colonel and little George left the Captain, as we have stated in the foregoing chapter, he descended into the cabin, and found Manuel sitting upon one of the lockers, apparently in great anxiety. He, however, waited for the mate to speak before he addressed the Captain. The mate awoke and informed the Captain that a slender, dark-complexioned man had been aboard a few minutes after he left, making particular inquiries about the steward; that he spoke like an official man, was dressed in black clothes, and wore spectacles.

“I asked him if we'd have any trouble with Manuel, and tried to make him understand that he wasn't a black, and that our situation might excuse us from any annoyance through their peculiar laws. But the old chap seemed mighty stupid about every thing, and talked just as if he didn't know any thing about nothing. 'A nigger's a nigger in South Carolina,' said he dryly, and inquired for a quid of tobacco, which I handed him, and he took one big enough for six. Said I, 'Mister, do you call a man a nigger what's a Portugee and a'n't black?' 'It depends on how he was born,' says he. 'Well, but ye can't make a white man a nigger nohow, whether it's in South Carolina or Scotland,' says I. 'Well, we don't stand upon such things here; we can show you niggers as white as you be, Mr. Mate,' says he. 'But, Mister, what's to do about our steward, that ye make yer inquiries about him; he ha'n't did nothing,' said I. 'Well, Mr. Mate; it's contrary to law to bring nigger stewards into our port. They're a bad set of fellows generally, and we claim the right to lock 'em up to insure their good behavior and keep their bad influence away from our slaves. 'Tis not my office. I observed your arrival and wrecked condition, and merely came to take a look,' said he. 'Well now, Mister, our steward thinks as much of himself as anybody and wouldn't mix with your niggers on any account. But Mister! won't it make a difference because we're cast upon your shore in distress,' says I. 'Not a whit! it's contrary to law, and the law's got nothing to do with wind and weather. We love the sovereignty of our law too well to make any discrimination. We're a hospitable people, and always give folks plenty to eat, but we never allow any favors in the law. I'll call and see you in the morning,' said he, and away he went.”

This individual was Mr. Grimshaw, the principal mover of the powers that be, notwithstanding he asserted that it was not his office, and that he just walked round to take a look.

During his visit on board, Manuel was absent on board a Boston bark, where he met a white steward, who gave him a sad picture of the Charleston jail and the cruel treatment that was inflicted upon prisoners there by starvation. He told him that he was once put in for a trifling offence, and nearly starved to death before he got out. “You will be sure to go there, Manuel,” said he, “for they make no distinction; and if a man's a foreigner, and can't speak for himself, he'll stand no chance at all. I'd give 'em the slip afore I'd suffer such another punishment,” he continued.

This so worked upon the poor fellow's mind, that it became a matter of little moment whether he jumped overboard or remained on the ship. He waited until the mate had concluded, and commenced appealing to the Captain in a most pitiful manner. The disgrace of being imprisoned seemed worse than the punishment; and he did not seem to comprehend the intention that he should be imprisoned for no crime in the United States, when he had sailed around the world and visited a majority of its ports, both barbarous and civilized, without molestation. He wanted the Captain to pay him off and let him leave by some vessel in the morning. The Captain endeavored to soothe his fears by assuring him that there was no danger of his being imprisoned; that the people of Charleston had too much good feeling in them to be cruel to a distressed sailor; that the power of the consul was a sufficient guarantee of protection. “You are not among Patagonians, Manuel,” said he. “There's no use of working your mind into a fever, you'll be as well taken care of here and be thought as much of as you would in London.” This assurance had the effect to soothe his mind, upon which he left the cabin more at ease, and went into the forecastle to turn in with his little companion Tommy. Men had been detailed for the pumps as soon as the flood-tide made, and the Captain retired to his berth.

It seemed there was a mutual understanding between the pilots and officers in regard to the arrival of colored stewards; and the pilot, after leaving the vessel, went directly to Mr. Grimshaw's office and reported a nut for him to crack: this brought him to the wharf to “look around.”

Early in the morning the crew were at their duty. The mate commenced giving orders to clear away the deck, and Manuel to make preparations for breakfast. He had scarcely commenced before two men, Messrs. Dunn and Dusenberry walked up and down the wharf for several minutes, then they would stand together and gaze as if to watch the approach of some vessel in the offing. At length, Dusenberry, seeing Manuel come to the gangway with a bucket in his hand, walked to her side, and, stepping on board, seized him by the collar, and drawing a paper from his pocket, said, “You're my prisoner! you must go to jail-come, be quick, sir; you must not stop to get your things; you must send for them after you're committed.”

The mate and several of the crew being near, at once gathered around him. At the same time Dunn, who was standing at the end of the wharf awaiting the result, thinking Dusenberry was opposed, came to his assistance. The officers and crew knew the respect due to the laws too well to oppose any obstacles to the constables in executing their duty. The mate, in a very polite manner, asked as a favor that they would leave the man a few minutes until the Captain came on deck. They yielded to his solicitation after a great deal of grumbling. The arrest made a deep feeling among the seamen, but none felt it more than little Tommy; he heard the noise upon deck, and came running with tears in his eyes, and cried, “Oh! Manuel, why Manuel, what are they going to take you away for? Won't I see you again, Manuel?” The little fellow's simplicity touched the feelings of all present. But the lame officer, Dunn, stood with a pair of handcuffs in his hand, as unmoved as a stoic, while Dusenberry expressed his impatience, and began to push the boy away, and motion to march him off.

“Hold a bit!” said the mate. “The Captain will be on deck in a few minutes; he wants a word or two with you.”

“We can't stop unless we're compensated for our time. 'Tis no use to delay-'twon't do any good; he's a nigger to all intents and purposes. I know by the curl in his hair-they can't escape me, I've had too much to do with them!” said Dunn. “Yes, to be sure, I can tell a nigger by his ear, if his skin's as white as chalk!” said Dusenberry. “It's all gammon this bringing bright outlandish men here, and trying to pass them off for white folks. 'Twon't stick-you must come up and be registered, and you'll have a good time at the jail, my boy; there's plenty of bright gals in there, and you can have a wife, if you know how to do the courting.”

The Captain now came upon deck; and began to intercede, begging that they would not take Manuel away until he had seen the British Consul. “I know I can make every thing straight. There is no occasion to imprison my steward-he's neither a nigger nor a bad man; and I'll pledge you my honor that he shall not leave the ship, or even go upon the wharf, if you will only allow me to see the Consul before you take any further action,” he continued.

“That is beyond our power, sir; you must see the sheriff-you'll find him in his office bright and early. But you might as well put your appeal in your pocket, or send it to Queen Victoria, for all Consul Mathew can do for you. He's been kicking up a fuss for two years; but he might as well whistle agin a brickbat as to talk his nonsense about English niggers to South Carolina. He'll get tarred and feathered yet, if he a'n't mighty shy about his movements. Sorry, Captain, we can't accommodate you, but we're only actin' for the sheriff, and his orders are imperative to bring him right up. We must lock the fellow up. We don't make the law, nor we ha'n't the power to control it.” Thus saying, Dunn took a little key from his pocket and begun to turn it in the handcuffs.

“What!” said the Captain-“don't attempt to put them things on my man, upon your peril. Is that the way you treat a poor shipwrecked sailor in South Carolina, the State of boasted hospitality? No, sir! I will sacrifice my life before my man shall submit to such a thing,” said the Captain, with his Scotch energy aroused.

“Captain!” said Dunn, “we'd not be takin' the advantage of ye because ye're a stranger, but 'tis the law; and if we accommodates ye, sure it'll be at our own risk. But anyhow, Captain, ye'd be keepin' meself an' this gentleman a long time waiting, 'twouldn't be amiss to be giving us the usual perquisite. You won't miss it, and we've a great deal to do for small fees, that niver compinsate for the accommodation we be's to give everybody-an' the loss of time's the loss of money.”

“Give you a perquisite!—no, indeed; I never pay for such favors. Wait a few moments; I will accompany you myself, if you will not take my honor for his good conduct on the way to prison,” continued the Captain.

“Captain, sure ye needn't trouble yerself anyhow; we'll take yer honor that he don't run away, and if he does ye'll stand the odds at the sheriff's. Sure a case would niver pass Mr. Grimshaw s observation; but to plase ye, and considerin' the wreck, meself and Dusenberry 'll put him up without,” said Dunn.

During the conversation, Manuel plead hard to be heard before the Consul, having a mistaken idea that the Consul could protect him from all danger; and that if he could get a hearing before him, he was sure to be released. The Captain shook his hand and told him to be contented until the Consul's office opened, when he would come to the jail and see him. Manuel then turned to the crew, and shaking the hands of each, took his little bundle in one hand, and holding little Tommy by the other, (who accompanied him to the head of the wharf,) was soon out of sight.

But will the reader believe what was the practice of these petty officers? We can assure them that such instances as the one we shall relate are not only practised in Charleston to an unlimited extent, but the fact is well known to both magistrates and the public; the former treat it as moonshine, and the latter rail against it, but never take proper action.

Scarcely had little Tommy left them at the head of the wharf, before they intimated that it would be well to consider a morning dram. To this end, they walked into a “Dutch corner shop,” and passing into the back room, gave sundry insinuations that could not be misunderstood. “Well! come, who pays the shot?” said Dunn, stepping up to the counter, and crooking his finger upon his nose at a dumpling-faced Dutchman, who stood behind the counter, waiting for his man to name it. The Dutchman was very short and very thick, leaving the impression that he had been very much depressed in his own country when young. He rubbed his hands and flirted his fingers in motion of anxiety, “Every ting vat de shentleman vant him—dare notin like to my zin and brondty vat him got mit ze zity,” said Dutchy.

“Gentlemen, I should be glad to have you drink with me, if it be proper to ask,” said Manuel.

“Oh! yes—certainly, yes!—just what we come for, something to cut away the cobwebs—'twouldn't do to go out in the morning fog without a lining,” said Dunn.

“Name it! name it! shentlemen,” exclaimed the Dutchman, as he rapped his fingers upon the counter, and seemed impatient to draw forth his filthy stuff. They named their drinks, each with a different name. Manuel not being a Charleston graduate in the profession of mixing drinks and attaching slang names to them, Mr. Dusenberry undertook to instruct him in a choice. The Dutchman was an adept at mixing, and the “morning pulls” were soon set out to the extreme satisfaction of Dunn and Dusenberry. “All right! tip her down, my old fellow; none o' yer screwed faces over such liquor as that. We drink on the legitimate, in Charleston, and can put it down until we see stars,” said Dusenberry, addressing himself to Manuel, who was making a wry face, while straining to swallow the cut-throat stuff.

Dusenberry now left Manuel in charge of Dunn, saying he was going out to attend to some business. Manuel drew from his pocket a quarter of a Colombian doubloon, and throwing it upon the counter, told the Dutchman to give him change. The Dutchman picked it up, turned it over several times, and squinting at it, inquired, in a very unpretending manner, what its value was. He knew already, yet this was only done to try Manuel. At the same moment he winked to Dunn, who, stepping up, gave it a significant toss upon the counter. “The divil a bit more than two dollars; all right, Swizer,” said he.

“'Tis four dollar, West Inge-I want my change,” said Manuel, shrugging his shoulders. “I no want no more than my own; and no man to cheat-e me.”

“Don't be bothering with your four dollars-sure ye a'n't in the West Inges now; and money's plenty in Charleston, and I can't bring up so much-half so much. Don't be bothering with yer West Inge nonsense. If ye try to raise a fuss here, I'll make the Captain suffer. Ye must learn that it won't do for a nigger to dispute a white man in Charleston; we'd twitch ye up by the same law; we'd put it to our own niggers, and ye'd git trised up, and about fifty paddles on yer bare butt.” The Dutchman put down a dollar and seventy cents, but Manuel refused to take it up; when this fellow, Dunn, pretending to be the friend of Manuel, held out his hand, and telling the bar-keeper to put another dollar, which he did, he passed it hurriedly into Manuel's hand, and making a pass, told him to put it into his pocket.

It was now about good business time for the Dutchman, and his customers were coming in with their bottles and pots in great numbers. The place was a little filthy hole, very black and dirty, about twelve feet long, and seven feet wide, with a high board counter almost in the centre. The only stock-in-trade that decorated it, was a few barrels of lager beer; several kegs, with names to set forth the different qualities of liquors painted upon them; a bushel basket about half full of onions, and a few salt fish in a keg that stood by the door. Around the room were several benches similar to those in guard-houses. Upon two of them were stretched two ragged and filthy-looking negroes, who looked as if they had been spending the night in debauchery. Dunn, as if to show his authority, limped toward them, and commenced fledging their backs with his hickory stick in a most unmerciful manner, until one poor old fellow, with a lame hand, cried out for mercy at the top of his voice.

“It's a bad business keeping these niggers here all night, Swizer-you know I've done the clean thing with you several times,” said Dunn, pointing his finger at the Dutchman; who winked, and coming from behind the counter, slipped something into his hand, and stepping to the door, assumed some threatning language against the negroes, should they ever came back to his store. A large portion of those who came for liquor were negroes, who looked as if they were parting with their last cent for stimulant, for they were ragged and dirty, and needed bread more than liquor. Their condition seemed pitiful in the extreme, and yet the Dutch “corner-shop keeper” actually got rich from their custom, and so craving was he upon their patronage, that he treated them with much more courtesy than his white customers.

These “Dutch corner-shops” are notorious places in Charleston, and are discountenanced by respectable citizens, because they become the rendezvous of “niggers,” who get into bad habits and neglect their masters' or mistresses' business. Yet the keepers exert such an influence at elections, that the officials not only fear them, but in order to secure their favors, leave their rascality unmolested. Well might a writer in the Charleston Courier of August 31, 1852, say—

“We were astonished, with many others, at the sweeping charges made in the resolutions passed at the HUTCHINSON meeting at Hatch's Hall, and were ready to enlist at once to lend our voice to turn out an 'administration' that for two years permitted 'moral sentiment to be abandoned,' 'truthfulness disregarded,' 'reverence for religion obliterated,' 'protection to religious freedom refused,' 'licentiousness allowed,' 'and a due administration for vice, neglected.'” These charges stand unrefuted, and with but one or two exceptions, we have never known one of those unlawful corner shops prosecuted by the present administration. And those single instances only where they were driven to notice the most flagrant abuses.

It is strictly “contrary to law in Charleston,” to sell liquor to a negro without an order from a white man; the penalty being fine and imprisonment. Yet, so flagrant has become the abuse, that it is notorious that hush-money is paid by a certain class of Dutch liquor-sellers to the officers. In nearly all the streets of Charleston, where there is a shanty or nook large enough to hold a counter and some tumblers, these wretches may be found dealing out their poisonous drugs to a poor, half-starved class of negroes, who resort to all kinds of dishonest means to get money to spend at their counters. These places are nearly all kept by foreigners, whose merciless avarice scruples at nothing, however mean. They soon become possessed of considerable means, and through their courtesy and subserviency to the negro-for they are the only class of whites that will beg his pardon, if they have offended him-carry on a sort of active rivalry with each other for his custom. It is from these miserable hells that seven-tenths of the crimes arise for which the poor negro is dragged to the work-house and made to suffer under the paddle.

And yet these very men, whose connivance at vice and crime is disregarded by the law, rise and take position in society-not only entering into more respectable business-but joining in that phalanx who are seeking the life-blood of the old Southerner, and like a silent moth, working upon his decay. There is a deep significance in the answer so frequently given in Charleston to the interrogatory, “Who lives in that splendid dwelling-it seems to have been the mansion of a prince, but is somewhat decayed?”

“Oh! bless me, yes! It was once the mansion of the So-and-sos, one of the first families, but they're very poor now. Mr. What-you-may-call-em owns it now-they say he didn't get it honestly. He kept a little grog-shop on the Bay, or sold bacon and whisky on the Bay, and made awful charges against poor So-and-so, and after a long trial in Chancery he got his house. He's a big fellow; now, I tell you, and is going to fit the house up for himself!”

Dunn told Manuel to be seated, that there was no occasion for hurrying; it would be all right if he got to the sheriffs office at nine o'clock; and then commenced descanting upon the fine time he would have at the jail. “There's a right good lot of comrades there, me boy; ye'll have fiddling and dancing, plenty of gals, and a jolly time; and ye a'n't a criminal, ye know, so it won't be any thing at all, only keep up a stiff under-lip. Come, let us take another drink; I feel mighty husky this morning!” said he.

Just at this time Dusenberry re-entered, puffing and blowing as if he had been engaged in a foot-race. “Another bird for old Grimshaw, at Commercial Wharf! I know'd she had one aboard, 'cause I seed him from the wharf,” said he, in perfect ecstasy, pulling out a pencil and making a note in a little book.

“Don't be a child,” said Dunn. “Come, we have just proposed another drink; you join of course; ye niver says no,—eh, Duse?” They stepped to the counter, and Dunn, again, pointing his finger upon his nose at the Dutchman, who stood with his hands spread upon the counter, called for gin and bitters, Stoughton light. Turning to Manuel, who was sitting upon a bench with his head reclined upon his hand, apparently in deep meditation, he took him by the collar in a rude manner, and dragging him to the counter, said, “Come, by the pipers, rouse up your spirits, and don't be sulking, my old Portugee; take another O-be-joyful, and it'll put ye all right, and ye'll dance a hornpipe like a jim-crack.”

“Excuse me, sir; I think I have taken enough; do, please, either take me back to my vessel, or where you are going to. This is no place for me!” said Manuel.

“Sure, what signifies; don't be talking your botheration here; a nigger musn't sauce a white man. Come, there's no use backing out; you must take a glass of Swizer's lager beer,” said Dunn.

Manuel looked around him, and then closing up very reluctantly, the Dutchman filled his glass with frothy beer, and the three touched glasses and drank. They then retired to a bench and commenced discussing the propriety of some point of their official privileges, while Manuel was left standing at the counter.

“Who pay de drink vat shu get?” inquired the Dutchman, anxious to serve two little niggers who had just come in with bottles in their hands.

“It was our friend's treat; come, my good fellow, do the clean thing according to Southern science. We'll put a good word in for you to the jailer; you won't lose nothing by it,” said Dusenberry.

“My friends, I work hard for my money, and have none to spend foolishly. The small amount is of little consequence, but I would much sooner make you a present of it, than to be drugged by pretence. I've no desire to indulge the propensities of others. Whatever you are going to do with me, do it; and let me know my fate. I am sick and fatigued, and have need for the doctor. Take me to a prison or where you please. I have done no crime; I want sleep, not punishment. Next time I shipwrecked, I get plank and go overboard 'fore I cum to Charleston.” So saying, he pulled out fifty cents and threw it upon the counter, and the Dutchman swept it into the drawer, as if it was all right, and “just the change.”

“Shut up, you black rascal, you; you musn't talk that way in South Carolina; we'll have you stretched on the frame and paddled for insolence to a white man. D—n me, if you're in such a hurry for it, just come along,” said Dusenberry; and reaching his hand over to Dunn, took the handcuffs from him and attempted to put them on Manuel's wrists. The poor fellow struggled and begged for more than ten minutes, and was wellnigh overpowering them, when Dusenberry drew a long dirk-knife from his bosom, and holding it in a threatening attitude at his breast, uttered one of those fierce yells such as are common to slave-hunters, whose business it is to hunt and run down runaway niggers with bloodhounds. “Submit, you black villain, or I'll have your heart's blood; bring a rope, and we'll trise him up here. Jump, be quick, Swizer!” said he, addressing himself to the Dutchman. The Dutchman ran into the front apartment; brought out a cord similar to a clothes-line; and commenced to undo it.

“Do you give up now?” said Dusenberry, still holding the knife pointed at him. Manuel was in the habit of carrying a poniard when on shore in foreign countries, and put his hand to his breast-pocket to feel for it. He remembered that he had left it in his chest, and that resistance would be useless against a posse giving expression to such hostility to him. The shackles were put upon his hands with ruffianly force.

“Oh! am I a man, or am I a brute? What have I done to receive such treatment? May God look down upon me and forgive me my transgressions; for in his hands are my rights, and he will give me justice,” said Manuel, looking his cruel torturers in the face.

“A man! No, by heavens, you're a nigger; an' it's that we'd he teaching you! Come, none of yer sermons here, trot off! We'll give you a handkerchief to cover your hands, if you're so d—d delicate about walking through the streets,” said Dunn, throwing him an old red handkerchief, and marching him along through Broad street. Dusenberry now left him entirely in the charge of Dunn; while, as he said, he went to Adger's Wharf to keep his eye on another vessel that was approaching the dock. The tricks of this man Dunn were well known to those, connected with the police and sheriff's office; but, instead of being displaced for his many offences, he was looked upon by them as the best officer upon the rolls; and in fishing for mischievous niggers he was held as a perfect paragon. In this instance he was not contented with the outrages he had inflicted upon Manuel at the Dutch grog-shop, which he had forced him into, but he would stop in the public street to hold conversation with every cove he met, and keep the poor man standing for public gaze, like chained innocence awaiting the nod of a villain. The picture would have been complete, if a monster in human form were placed in the foreground applying the lash, according to the statute laws of South Carolina.