Lippincott'S Magazine Of Popular Literature And Science, Volume 26 December, 1880., Various None [best books to read for beginners .txt] 📗
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Trade To The Others.
Within The Enclosures My Friend And Her People, No Matter How
Enlightened Or Refined They May Be, Are Herded, And Under The Same
Rules, As So Many Animals. They Cannot Leave The Enclosure Without
Passes, Such As Were Granted To Our Slaves Before The War When They
Wished To Go Outside Of The Plantation. This Woman, When Seated At
President Hayes'S Table, The Equal In Mind And Breeding Of Any Of Her
Companions, Was, By The Laws Of Her Country, A Runaway, Legally Liable
To Be Haled By The Police Back To Her Enclosure, And Shot If She
Resisted. She And Her People Are Absolutely Unprotected By Any Law. It
Is Indeed The Only Case, So Far As I Know, In any Christian Country, In
Which A Single Class Are So Set Aside, Unprotected By Any Law. When Our
Slaves Were Killed Or Tortured By Inhuman Masters, There Was At Least
Some Show Of Justice For Them. The White Murderer Went Through Some Form
Of Trial And Punishment. The Slave, Though A Chattel, Was Still A Human
Being. But These People Are Not Recognized By The Law As Human Beings.
They Cannot Buy Nor Sell; They Cannot Hold Property: If With Their Own
Hands They Build A House And Gather About Them The Comforts Of
Civilization And The Wife And Children To Which The Poorest Negro, The
Most Barbarous Savage, Has A Right, Any Man Of The Dominant Class Can,
Without Violating Any Law, Take Possession Of The House, Ravage The
Wife And Thrust The Children Out To Starve. The Wrong-Doer Is Subject To
No Penalty. The Victim Has No Right Of Appeal To The Courts. Hence Such
Outrages Are Naturally Of Daily Occurrence. Not Only Are They
Perpetrated On Individuals, But Frequently There Is A Raid Made Upon The
Whole Of The Inmates Of One Enclosure--Whenever, In Fact, The People In
The Neighborhood Fancy They Would Like To Take Possession Of Their Land.
The Kinsmen Of My Friend, With Their Clan Numbering Some Seven Hundred
Souls--A Peaceable, Industrious Christian Community, Living On Land
Which Had Belonged To Their Ancestors For Centuries--Were Swept Off Of
It A Few Years Ago At The Whim Of Two Of Their Rulers: Their Houses And
Poor Little Belongings Were All Left Behind, And They Were Driven A
Thousand Miles Into A Sterile, Malarious Region Where Nearly Half Of
Their Number Died. The Story Of Their Sufferings, Their Homesickness And
Their Despair On The Outward Journey, And Of How Still Later Some Thirty
Of Them Returned On Foot, Carrying The Bones Of Those Who Had Died To
Lay Them In Their Old Homes, Is One Of The Most Dramatic Pages In
History. De Quincey'S "Flight Of A Tartar Clan" Does Not Equal It In
Pathos Or As A Story Of Heroism And Endurance. At The End Of Their
Homeward Journey, When Almost Within Sight Of Their Homes, The Heroic
Little Band Were Seized By Order Of The Ruler Of Their Enclosure And
Committed To Prison. The Tribe Are Still In The Malarious Swamps To
Volume 26 Title 1 (Lippincott'S Magazine Of Popular Literature And Science) Pg 137Which They Were Exiled. Strangers Hold Their Farms And The Houses Which
They Built With Their Own Hands.
The Anomalous Condition Of A People Legally Ranking As Animals, And Not
Human Beings, Would Naturally Produce Unpleasant Consequences When They
Are Criminally The Aggressors. When They Steal Or Kill They Cannot Be
Tried, Sent To Jail Or Hung As If They Were Human In The Eye Of The Law.
The Ruler Of Each Enclosure Is Granted Arbitrary Power In Such Cases To
Punish At His Discretion. He Is Judge, Jury, And Often Executioner. He
Has A Control Over The Lives Of These People More Absolute Than That Of
Any Christian Monarch Over His Subjects. If He Thinks Proper To Shoot
The Offender, He Can Call Upon The Regular Army Of The Country To
Sustain Him. If The Individual Offender Escapes, The Whole Of The
Inmates Of The Enclosure Are Held Responsible, And Men, Women And
Children Are Slaughtered By Wholesale And Without Mercy.
My Readers Understand My Little Fable By This Time. It Is No Fable, But
A Disgraceful Truth.
The Government Under Which A People--Many Of Whom Are Educated,
Enlightened Christian Gentlemen--Are Denied The Legal Rights Of Human
Beings And All Protection Of Law Is Not The Absolute Despotism Of Siara
Or Russia, But The United States, The Republic Which Proclaims Itself
The Refuge For The Oppressed Of All Nations--The One Spot On Earth Where
Every Man Is Entitled Alike To Life, Liberty And The Pursuit Of
Happiness. The Only People In The World To Whom It Denies These Rights
Are Not Its Quondam Slaves, Not Pagans, Not Runaway Convicts, Not The
Offscourings Of Any Nation However Degraded, But The Original Owners Of
The Country.
The Legal Disability Under Which The Indian Is Held Is As Much Of An
Outrage On Human Rights, And As Bald A Contradiction Of The Doctrines On
Which Our Republic Is Based, As Negro Slavery Was.
R.H.D.
A Little Ireland In america.
The Humorous Side Of Life Was Never More Vividly Brought Before Me Than
While Living A Few Years Ago In The Vicinity Of An Irish Settlement In
One Of The Suburbs Of New York. What We Call "Characters" Were To Be
Found In every Cottage--The Commonplace Was The Exception. Indeed, I Do
Not Remember That It Existed At All In "The Lane," As This Locality Was
Called.
Perhaps Among The Inhabitants Of The Lane None More Deserved Distinction
Than Mary Magovern. The Grandmother Of A Numerous Family, She United All
The Masculine And Feminine Virtues. About The Stiff, Spotless And
Colossal Frill Of Her Cap Curled Wreaths Of Smoke From Her Stout
Dhudeen As She Sat Before The Door Blacking The Small Boots Of Her
Volume 26 Title 1 (Lippincott'S Magazine Of Popular Literature And Science) Pg 138Grandchildren, Stopping From Time To Time To Remove The Pipe From Her
Mouth, That She Might Deliver In Her Full Bass Voice A Peremptory Order
To The Large Yellow Dog That Lay At Her Feet. It Was Usually On The
Occasion Of A Carriage Passing, When The Dog Would Growl And Rise. Very
Quickly Out Came The Pipe, And Immediately Followed The Words, "Danger,
Lay By Thim Intintions;" And The Pipe Was Used As An Indicator For The
Next Movement--Namely, To Patiently Lie Down Again Upon The Ground.
Mary Magovern Kept A Drinking-Shop Behind The Living-Rooms Of Her
Cottage, And The Immense Prestige She Had In The Lane Must Have Had Some
Foundation In The Power Which This Thriving Business Gave Her, Many Of
Her Neighbors Being Under The Obligation Of Debt To Her.
Mike Quinlan Would Have Been Her Most Frequent Visitor Had It Not Been
For The Ever-Open Eye Of Mrs. Quinlan, Which Caused Her Husband To Seek
His Delights By Stealth At A Village A Mile Away. Mike Was An Elderly
And Handsome Man, But His Wits Had Ebbed Out As The Contents Of The
Wine-Cup Flowed In, And The Beauty That Had Won So Remarkable A Person
As Mrs. Quinlan In Its First Glow Was Somewhat Marred. He Was The Owner
Of A Small Cart And A Mule, And Those Who Had Stones Or Earth To Move
Usually Remembered To Employ Poor Mike. But It Was On Foot, As A More
Inconspicuous Method Of Eluding The Watchfulness Of Mrs. Quinlan, That
Mike Slipped Away To The Neighboring Village Of An Afternoon, And It Was
On Foot That I One Night Saw Mrs. Quinlan Going Over The Same Road With
An Invincible Determination In Her Countenance And A Small Birch Rod In
Her Hand. Mrs. Quinlan Was Somewhat Younger Than Her Lord And Master:
She Had A Clear, Bright-Blue Eye, A Roseate Color In Her Little Slender
Face, And Gray Hair Tidily Smoothed Back Beneath The Dainty Ruffles Of
Her Cap, About Which A Black Ribbon Was Tied. She Wore Short Petticoats
And Low Shoes, And As She Walked Briskly Along She Smoothed Her Apron
With The Disengaged Hand, As If, The Balance Of The Family
Respectability Having So Wholly Fallen Upon Her Own Shoulders, She Would
Not Disturb It By Permitting A Disorderly Wrinkle. Half An Hour Later
She Passed Again Over The Road, Her Face Turned Homeward And Wearing An
Even Greater Austerity, The Birch Rod Grasped Firmly In Her Hand, And
Her Worser Half Preceding Her With A Foolish Smile Upon His Lips, Half
Of Concession, Half Of Pride In The Power To Which He Stooped.
Another Of Mrs. Magovern'S Occasional Visitors Was Old Haley, Who Had
Regular Employment Upon Our Own Place. Like Mike Quinlan, He Rejoiced In
A Wife Who Was An Ornament To Her Sex--A Most Respectable, Handsome And
Intelligent Woman, Though Education Had Done Little To Sharpen Her Wits
Or Widen Her Experience. She Could Tell A One From A Five Dollar Bill,
As Her Husband Would Proudly Inform You, And She Could Cook A Dinner, Do
Up A Skirt Or A Frilled Cap, Keep A House Or Tend A Sick Friend, As Well
As Any Woman In The Land. "Maggie'S A Janeous!" Her Husband Would Remark
With A Look Of Intense Admiration.
One Evening Mrs. Haley Made Her Appearance At Our House, Asking For An
Audience Of My Mother. The Object Was To Inform Her--These Sympathetic
People Like To Be Advised In all Their Affairs--That Being In Need Of
Various Household Supplies She Proposed On The Following Day To Go To
The City And Purchase Them At The Washington Market.
"I Suppose You Have Been To The City Before, Mrs. Haley?" Remarked My
Mother.
Volume 26 Title 1 (Lippincott'S Magazine Of Popular Literature And Science) Pg 139"I Have Not, Ma'Am," Said Mrs. Haley.
"Had You Not Better Take Some Friend With You Who Has Been There Before,
Lest You Should Get Lost?"
"Faith, I Had, Ma'Am: I Had A Right To Have Moor Sinse An' Think O'
That."
So Mrs. Haley Departed, Returning Again In company With Mary Magovern:
"Here'S Mary Magovern, Ma'Am: She'S Goin' Along Wid Me."
"Ah, That'S Very Well.--You Know The City, Mary? You'Ve Been There?"
"I Have Not, Ma'Am."
"Why, What, Then, Is The Use Of Your Going With Mrs. Haley?"
"We'Ll Make A Shtrict Inquiry, Ma'Am."
The Next Morning They Started, And At Four O'Clock Old Haley Came In
Much Anxiety Of Mind To Seek Comfort Of My Mother: "Maggie'S Not Come,
Ma'Am. Faith, I'M Throubled, For The City Is A Quare Place."
When It Grew Late Haley Returned Again
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