IT is nine o'clock, on the morning of the 24th March, 1852. Manuel was marched into the sheriff's office, situated in the court-house, on the corner of Broad and Meeting streets. A large table stood in the centre of the room, covered with sundry old papers and an inkstand. At one side was an old sofa, bearing strong evidence of its being worn out at the expense of the State. A few pine-wood and painted book-stands, several tip-staffs, old broken-backed chairs, and last, but not least, a wood-sawyer's buck-saw, stood here and there in beautiful disorder around the room; while, as if to display the immense importance of the office, a “cocked” hat with the judicial sword hung conspicuously above the old sofa. A door opened upon the left hand, leading into the clerk's office, where the books and archives of the office were kept. Mr. Kanapeaux, the incumbent, exhibited a great deal of good feeling, which it would have lost the sheriff none of his reputation to pattern after, and kept his office in very respectable order.

“Come in 'ere, Manwell, or whatever yer name is,” said Dunn, as he led the way into the presence of Mr. Grimshaw, the lean, haggard-looking man we have before described. His dark, craven features, as he sat peering through his glasses at the morning news, gave him the appearance of a man of whom little was, to be expected by those who had the misfortune to fall into his hands.

“Ah! Dunn, you are the best officer in the city; 'pon my soul, these fellows can't escape you! Where did you pick up that nigger?” said he, with a look of satisfaction.

“A fat fee case, Mr. Grimshaw, 'contrary to law;' he's a Portugee nigger. Never had so much trouble with a nigger in my life; I didn't know but the fellow was going to preach a sermon. The Captain-he belongs to a wrecked Englishman-wanted to come the gammon game with him, and pass him for a white man; but sure he couldn't come that game over meself and Duse, anyhow,” said Dunn.

Without saying a word, Manuel stood up before his accusers, upon this strange charge of “contrary to law.”

As he looked upon his accusers, he said, “What have I done to suffer a murderer's fate? Am I to be sold as a slave, because of the visitation of God? I have done no murder! No!—nor have I stolen in your land! and why did these men decoy me into”—

“Silence! silence! You are in the sheriff's office,” said Dunn, pointing his finger at his nose. “You can't come your John Bull nigger in South Carolina.”

This brought the sheriff's clerk to the door that led into the passage. “Dunn, I have warned you about these things several times; the public are getting wind of them; they'll bring this office into disrepute yet. You ought to know what effect the association of officials with these 'corner-shop keepers' is already having in the community,” said he.

“How the divil do ye know what yer talking about; sure it's his honor's bisniss, and not yours at all, at all,” said Dunn, addressing himself to Mr. Kanapeaux, and then looking at Mr. Grimshaw.

“Mr. Kanapeaux, you must not interfere with the officers and their duty; attend to your business, and get, your book ready to register this nigger-boy,” said Grimshaw.

“Well, now, my good fellow,” continued Grimshaw, “I dislike this business very much; it don't pay me enough for all the bother I have with it. 'Tis just a little filtering of fees, which makes the duty of my office exceedingly annoying. But we must respect the law. We do these things to protect our institutions and make them as light as possible. I might give you a great deal of trouble; I have the power, but I make it a point to consider men in your case, and we'll make you so comfortable that you won't think of being imprisoned. You must understand that it is 'contrary to law' to come among our niggers in this way; it gives them fanciful ideas. There's such an infernal imperfect state of things as these abolitionists are getting every thing into, behooves us to watch the communications which are going on between, designing people and our slaves. We are a hospitable people—the world knows that—and have a religious respect for our laws, which we enforce without respect to persons. We'd like to let you go about the city, but then it's 'contrary to law.' Make up your mind, my good fellow, that you are among humane people, who will seek to benefit you among men of your class. Make yourself happy—and look upon me as a friend, and you will never be deceived. I control the jail, and my prisoners are as much attached to me as they would be to a father.”

“It must be humanity that puts these symbols of ignominy upon my hands,” said Manuel; “that confines me in a dungeon lest I should breathe a word of liberty to ears that know it only as a fable.”

Nobody had asked him to sit down, and, feeling the effect of his sickness and fatigue, he turned around as if to look for something to rest against. “You must not sit down,—take off your hat!” said Grimshaw.

The poor fellow made an effort, but could not effect it with the fetters on his hands; at which, Dunn stepped up, and snatching it from his head, flung it upon the floor. “You should learn manners, my good fellow,” said Grimshaw, “when you come into a sheriff's office. It's a place of importance, and people always pay respect to it when they come into it; a few months in Charleston would make you as polite as our niggers.”

“Had you not better take the irons off the poor fellow's hands?—he looks as if he was tired out,” said Mr. Kanapeaux, the clerk, who again came to the door and looked upon Manuel with an air of pity. The words of sympathy touched his feelings deeply; it was a simple word in his favour, so different from what he had met since he left the vessel, that he felt a kind friend had spoken in his behalf, and he gave way to his feeling in a gush of tears.

“Good suggestion, Mr. Kanapeaux!” said Grimshaw. “Better take 'em off, Mr. Dunn; I don't think he'll give you any more difficulty. He seems like a 'likely fellow,' and knows, if he cuts up any nigger rascality in Charleston, he'll be snapped up. Now, my good fellow, put on your best-natured countenance, and stand as straight as a ramrod. Mr. Kanapeaux, get your book ready to register him,” continued Grimshaw.

Manuel now stood up under a slide, and his height and general features were noted in the following manner, in order to appease that sovereign dignity of South Carolina law, which has so many strange devices to show its importance:—“Contrary to Law.” Violation of the Act of 1821, as amended, &c. &c. Manuel Pereira vs. State of South Carolina, Steward on board British Brig Janson, Captain Thompson. Entered 24th March, 1852.

Height, 5 feet 8 1/2 inches.

Complexion, light olive, (bright.)

Features, sharp and aquiline.

[Hair and eyes, dark and straight; the former inclined to curl.]

General remarks:—Age, twenty-nine; Portuguese by birth; speaks rather broken, but politely; is intelligent, well formed, and good looking. Fees to Sheriff:

To arrest, $2—Registry, $2 - $4 00 To Recog. $1.31—Constable. $1 - $2.31 To Commitment and discharge, $1.00

$7.31

Jail fees to be added when discharged.

After these remarks were duly entered, and Mr. Grimshaw read another lecture to him on the importance of South Carolina law, and the kindness he would receive at his hands if he made himself con-tented, he was told that he could go and be committed. The poor fellow had stood up until he was nearly exhausted; yet, it was not enough to gratify the feelings of that miserable miscreant, Dunn. Scarcely had he left the sheriff's office, or passed two squares from the court-house, before he entered another Dutch grog-shop, a little more respectable in appearance-but not in character. They entered by a side door, which led into a back apartment provided with a table and two wooden settees. As Dunn entered, he was recognised by two negro-fellows, who were playing dominoes at the table. They arose and ran through the front store, into the street, as if some evil spirit had descended among them. The Dutchman sprang for the dominoes, and quickly thrust them into a tin measure which he secreted under the counter.

“Ah! Drydez!” said Dunn; “you vagabond, you; up to the old tricks again? Ye Dutchmen are worse than the divil! It's meself'll make ye put a five for that. Come, fork it over straight, and don't be muttering yer Dutch lingo!”

“Vat zue drink mit me dis morning? Misser Dunz' te best fellow vat comez in my shop,” said Drydez.

“Ah! stop yer botheration, and don't be comin' yer Dutch logger over an Irishman! put down the five dollars, and we'll take the drinks presently; meself and me friend here'll drink yer health,” said Dunn, pointing to Manuel, who shook his head as much as to decline. The Dutchman now opened his drawer, and rolling a bill up in his fingers, passed it as if unobserved into the hands of Dunn.

“Now, Drydez,” said Dunn, “if ye want to do the clean thing, put a couple of brandy smashes-none of your d—d Dutch cut-throat brandy-the best old stuff. Come, me old chuck, (turning to Manuel and pulling him by the Whiskers,) cheer up, another good stiff'ner will put you on your taps again. South Carolina's a great State, and a man what can't be happy in Charleston, ought to be put through by daylight by the abolitionists.”

The Dutchman soon prepared the smashes, and supplying them with straws, put them upon the table, and seated chairs close at hand. “Excuse me!” said Manuel, “I've drunk enough already, and should like to lie down. I am unwell, and feel the effect of what I have already taken. I am too feeble. Pray tell me how far the prison is from here, and I will go myself.”

“Go, is it?—the divil a go ye'll go from this until ye drink the smash. None of yer Portugee independence here. We larn niggers the politeness of gintlemen in Charleston, me buck!” and seizing him by the collar, dragged him to the table, then grasping the tumbler with the other hand, he held it before his face. “Do you see that? and, bedad, ye'll drink it, and not be foolin', or I'd put the contents in your phiz,” said he.

Manuel took the glass, while the Dutchman stood chuckling over the very nice piece of fun, and the spice of Mr. Dunn's wit, as he called it. “Vat zu make him vat'e no vants too? You doz make me laugh so ven zu comes 'ere, I likes to kilt myself,” said Drydez.

A bright mulatto-fellow was now seen in the front store, making quizzical signs to the Dutchman; who understanding its signification, lost no time in slipping into his pocket a tumbler nearly half full of brandy and water; and stepping behind the division door, passed it slily to the mulatto, who equally as slily passed it down his throat; and putting a piece of money into the Dutchman's hand, stepped up to the counter, as if to wait for his change. “All right!” said the Dutchman, looking around at his shelves, and then again under the counter.

“No so!” said the mulatto; “I want fourpence; you done' dat befor' several times; I wants my money.”

“Get out of my store, or I'll kick you out,” said the Dutchman, and catching up a big club, ran from behind the counter and commenced belaboring the negro over the head in a most unmerciful manner. At this, the mulatto retreated into the lane, and with a volley of the vilest epithets, dared the Dutchman to come out, and he would whip him.

Dunn ran to the scene, and ordered the negro to be off, and not use such language to a white man, that it was “contrary to law,” and he would take him to the workhouse.

“Why, massa, I knows what 'em respect white men what be gemmen like yersef, but dat Dutchman stand da'h a'n't no gentlem', he done gone tieffe my money seven time; an' I whip him sure-jus' lef' him come out here. I doesn't care for true, and God saw me, I be whip at the wukhouse next minute. He tief, an' lie, an 'e cheat me.” The Dutchman stood at the door with the big stick in his hand-the negro in the middle of the lane with his fists in a pugilistic attitude, daring and threatening, while the limping Dunn stood by the side of the Dutchman, acting as a mediator. Manuel, taking advantage of the opportunity, emptied his tumbler down a large opening in the floor.

It is a notorious fact in Charleston, that although the negro, whether he be a black or white one, is held in abject obedience to the white man proper, no matter what his grade may be, yet such is the covetous and condescending character of these groggery keepers, that they become courteous to the negro and submit to an equality of sociability. The negro, taking advantage of this familiarity, will use the most insulting and abusive language to this class of Dutchmen, who, either through cowardice, or fear of losing their trade, never resent it. We may say, in the language of Dunn, when he was asked if negroes had such liberties with white men in Charleston, “A nigger knows a Dutch shopkeeper better than he knows himself-a nigger dare not speak that way to anybody else.”

The Dutchman gets a double profit from the negro, and with it diffuses a double vice among them, for which they have to suffer the severest penalty. It is strictly “contrary to law” to purchase any thing from a negro without a ticket to sell it, from his master. But how is this regarded? Why, the shopkeeper foregoes the ticket, encourages the warehouse negro to steal, and purchases his stealings indiscriminately, at about one-half their value. We might enumerate fifty different modes practised by “good” legal voting citizens—totally regardless of the law—and exerting an influence upon the negro tenfold more direful than that which could possibly arise from the conversation of a few respectable men belonging to a friendly nation.

Dunn, after driving the mulatto man from the door and upbraiding the Dutchman for his cowardice, returned to the table, and patting Manuel upon the back, drank the balance of his smash, saying, “Come, me good fellow, we must do the thing up brown, now; we've got the Dutchman nailed on his own hook. We must have another horn; it's just the stuff in our climate; the 'Old Jug's' close by, and they'll be makin' a parson of you when you get there. We've had a right jolly time; and ye can't wet your whistle when ye're fernint the gates.”

“I don't ask such favors, and will drink no more,” said Manuel.

“Fill her up, Drydez! fill her up! two more smashes-best brandy and no mistake. You must drink another, my old chuck-we'll bring the pious notions out o' ye in Charleston,” said Dunn, turning around to Manuel.

The Dutchman filled the glasses, and Dunn, laying his big hickory stick upon the counter, took one in each hand, and going directly to Manuel, “There, take it, and drink her off-no humbugging; yer mother niver gave such milk as that,” said he.

“Excuse me, sir; I positively will not!” said Manuel, and no sooner had he lisped the words, than Dunn threw the whole contents in his face. Enraged at such outrageous conduct, the poor fellow could stand it no longer, and fetched him a blow that levelled him upon the floor.

The Dutchman ran to the assistance of Dunn, and succeeded in relieving him from his unenviable situation. Not satisfied, however, they succeeded, after a hard struggle, in getting him upon the floor, when the Dutchman-after calling the assistance of a miserable negro, held him down while Dunn beat him with his stick. His cries of “Murder” and “Help” resounded throughout the neighbourhood, and notwithstanding they attempted to gag him, brought several persons to the spot. Among them was a well-known master builder, in Charleston-a very muscular and a very humane man. The rascality of Dunn was no new thing to him, for he had had practical demonstrations of it upon his own negroes,—who had been enticed into the “corner shops” for the double purpose of the Dutchmen getting their money, and the officers getting hush-money from the owner.

The moment he saw Dunn, he exclaimed, “Ah! you vagabond!” and springing with the nimbleness of a cat, struck the Dutchman a blow that sent him measuring his length, into a corner among a lot of empty boxes; then seizing Dunn by the collar, he shook him like a puppy, and brought him a slap with his open hand that double-dyed his red face, and brought a stream of claret from his nose; while the miserable nigger, who had been struggling to hold Manuel down, let go his hold, and ran as if his life was in danger. The scene was disgusting in the extreme. Manuel arose, with his face cut in several places, his clothes bedaubed with filth from the floor, and his neck and shirt-bosom covered with blood; while the aghast features of Dunn, with his red, matted hair, and his glaring, vicious eyes, bespattered with the combined blood of his victim and his own nasal organ, gave him the most fiendish look imaginable.

The gentleman, after reprimanding the Dutchman for keeping up these miserable practices, which were disgracing the community, and bringing suffering, starvation, and death upon the slaves, turned to Dunn, and addressed him. “You are a pretty officer of the law! A villain upon the highway-a disgrace to your color, and a stain upon those who retain you in office. A man who has violated the peace and every principle of honest duty, a man who every day merits the worst criminal punishment, kept in the favor of the municipal department, to pollute its very name. If there is a spark of honesty left in the police department, I will use my influence to stop your conduct. The gallows will be your doom yet. You must not think because you are leagued in the same traffic.”

Dunn kept one of the worst and most notorious drinking-shops in Charleston, but, to reconcile his office with that strict requirement which never allowed any thing “contrary to law” in Charleston, he made his wife a “free trader.” This special set of South Carolina may in effect be classed among its many singular laws. It has an exceedingly accommodating effect among bankrupt husbands, and acts as a masked battery for innumerable sins in a business or official line. It so happens, once in a while, that one of the “fair free dealers” gets into limbo through the force of some ruthless creditor; and the “Prison Bounds Act,” being very delicate in its bearings, frequently taxes the gallantry of the chivalrous gentlemen of the Charleston bar that you are to go unpunished. And you, Drydez,” said he, turning to the Dutchman, “I shall enter you upon the information docket, as soon as I go down into the city.”

“Zeu may tu vat zeu plas mit me-te mayor bees my friend, an' he knowz vot me ams. Yuz sees zel no bronty, no zin! Vot yu to mit de fine, ah?” * * *

“I'd like to see you do that same agin Mr.—. It wouldn't be savin' yerself a pace-warrant, and another for assault and battery! Sure magistrate Gyles is a first-rate friend of me own, and he'd not suffer me imposed on. The d—d nigger was obstinate and wouldn't go to jail,” said Dunn in a cowardly, whimpering manner.

“Oh yez, me heard mit 'im swore, vat he no go to zale!” rejoined the Dutchman anxiously.

“Tell me none of your lies,” said he; “you are both the biggest rascals in town, and carry on your concerted villany as boldly as if you had the control of the city in your hands.” Manuel was trembling under the emotions of grief and revenge. His Portuguese blood would have revenged itself at the poniard's point, but fortunately he had left it in his chest. He saw that he had a friend at his hand, and with the earnestness of a child, resigned himself to his charge.

In a few minutes quiet was produced, and the gentleman expressing a desire to know how the trouble originated, inquired of Manuel how it was brought about. But no sooner had he commenced his story, than he was interrupted by Dunn asserting his right, according to the laws of South Carolina, to make his declaration, which could not be refuted by the negro's statement, or even testimony at law; and in another moment jumped up, and taking Manuel by the collar, commanded him to come along to jail; and turning to the gentleman, dared him to interfere with his duty.

“I know how you take people to jail, very well. I'll now see that you perform that duty properly, and not torture prisoners from place to place before you get there. You inflict a worse punishment in taking poor, helpless people to jail, than they suffer after they get there!” said he; and immediately joined Manuel and walked to the jail with him.