The Sun.
London, England, 1861-07-12 00:00:00

STAMPED, ..sd.

fluently.
Next- morning, early, the Governor was in the
saddle and took me round to see his plantation.
We rode through alleys formed by the tall stalks of
the maize out to the wide, unbroken fields—hedge-
less, unwalled, where the green cane was just learn-
ing to wave its long shoots in the wind. Along the
margin in the distance there is an unbroken boun-
dary of forest extending all along the swamp lands,
and two miles in depth. From the river to the
forest there is about 11 mile or more of land of the
very highest quality—unfathomable, and producing
from one to one and a half hogshead an acre. Away
in the midst of the crops were white-looking masses,
reminding me of sepoys and sowars as seen in Indian
fields in the morning sun on many a march. As
we rode towards them we overtook a cart with a
large cask, a number of tin vessels, a bucket
of molasses, a pail of milk, and, a tub full
of lkominy or boiled Indian corn. The cask
contained water for the use of the negroes,
and the other vessels held the materials for their
breakfast, in addition to which they generally have
each a dried fish. The food looked ample and
wholesome, such as any labouring man would be
well content with every day. There were three
gangs at work in the fields. One of men, with 20
mules and ploughs, was engaged in running through
the furrows between the canes, cutting up the
weeds and clearing away the grass, which is the
enemy of the growing shoot. The mules are of a
fine large good-tempered kind, and understand their
work almost as well as the drivers, who are usually
the more intelligent hands on the plantation. The
overseer, a sharp-looking Creole, on a lanky pony,
whip in hand, superintended their labours, and,
after a few directions and a salutation to the
governor, rode off to another part of the farm.
The negroes when spoken to saluted us and came
forward to shake hands—a civility which must not
be refused. With the exception of crying to their
mules, however, they kept silence when at work.
Another gang consisted of 40 men, who were hoeing
out the grass in Indian corn—easy work enough.
The third gang was of 36 or 37 women, who were
engaged in hoeing out cane. Their clothing seemed
heavy for the climate, their shoes ponderous and ill-
made, so as to wear away the feet of their thick
stockings. Coarse straw hats alai bright cotton
handkerchiefs protected their heads from the sun.
The silence which I have already alluded to pre-
vailed among these gangs also—not a sound could
be heard but the blows of the hoe on the heavy
clods. In the rear of each gang stood a black over-
seer, with a heavy-thonged whip over his shoulder.
If " Alcibiade" or " Pompee" were called out he
came with outstretched hand to ask " how do you
do," and then returned to his labour ; but the
ladies were coy, and scarcely looked up from under
their flapping chapeaux de paille at their visitors.
Those who are mothers leave their children in the
charge of certain old women, unfit for anything
else, and " suckers," as they are called, are per-
mitted to go home to give the infants the breast at
appointed periods of the day. I returned horn.
multa mecum revolvers. After breakfast, in spite of
a very fine sun, which was not unworthy of a
January noon in Cawnpore, we drove forth to visit
some planter friends of M. Roman, a few miles
down the river. The levee road is dusty, but the
gardens, white railings, and neat houses of the
planters looked fresh and clean enough. There is
a great difference in the appearance of the slaves'
quarters. Some are neat, others are dilapidated and
mean. As a general rule, it might be said that the
goodness of the cottages was in proportion to the
breadth of the frontage of each plantation towards
the river, which is a fair index to the size of the
estate wherever the river bank is straight. The
lines of the estates are drawn perpendicularly tothe
banks, so that the convexity ca concavity of the
bends determines the frontage of the plantation.
The absence of human beings in the fields and on
the roads was remarkable. The gangs at work
were hidden in the deep corn, and not a soul met
us on the road for many miles except one planter
in his gig. At one place we visited a very handsome
garden laid out with hothouses and conservatories,
ponds full of magnificent Victoria Regia in flower,
orange trees, and many tropical plants, native and
foreign date and other palms. The proprietor
owns an extensive sugar refinery. We visited his
factory and mills, but the heat from the boilers,
which seemed too much even for the all but naked
negroes who were at work, did not tempt us to
make a very long sojourn inside. The ebony
faces and polished black backs of the slaves ss ere
streaming with perspiration as they toiled over
boiler, vat, and centrifugal driers. The good refiner
was not gaining much at present, for sugar has
been falling rapidly in New Orleans, and the 300,000
barrels produced annually in the South will fall
short in the yield of profit, which on an average
may be taken at £ll a hogshead, without counting
the molasses for the planter. All the planters
hereabouts have sown an unusual quantity o.I
dian corn, so as to have food for the negroo a the

war lasts, without any distress from inland or sea
blockade. The absurdity of supposing that a blockade
can injure them in the way of supply is a favourite
theme to descant upon. They may find out, how-
ever, that it is no contemptible means of warfare.
At night, after our return, a large bonfire was
lighted on the bank to attract the steamer to call
for my luggage, and she was to leave at a point on
the opposite shore 14 miles higher up, and I per-
ceived that there are regular patrols and watchmen
at night who look after levees and the negroes ; a
number of dogs are also loosed, but I am assured
by a gentleman, who has written me a long letter
on the subject from Montgomery, that thew, dogs
do not tear the negroes ; they are taught merely to
catch and mumble them, to treat them as a retriever
well broken uses a wild duck. Next day I left the
hospitable house of Governor Roman, full of regard
for his personal character and of wishes for his
happiness and prosperity, but assuredly in no de-
gree satisfied that even with his care and kindness
the " domestic institution" can be rendered tolerable
or defensible, if it be once conceded that the negro is
a human being with a soul—or with the feelings of a
man. On these points there are ingenious hypo-
theses and subtle argumentations in print " down
South" which do /inch to comfort the consciences of
the anthropoproprietors. The negro skull won't
hold as many ounces of shot as the white man's-
Can
there be a more potent proof that the white
man has a right to sell and to own a creature who
carries a smaller charge of snipe dust in his head ?
He is plantigrade and curved as to the tibia!
Cogent demanatra tion-,that he was made eivressly
to work. for the aicli-footed, straight-tibia'd Cau-
casian. He has a rete mucosum and a coloured
pigment. Surely, he cannot have a soul of the same
colour as that of an Italian or a Spaniard, far less
of a flaxen-haired Saxon ! See these peculiarities
in the frontal sinus—in sinciput or occiput ! Can
you doubt that the being with a head of that
nature was made only to till, hoe, and dig for an-
other race ? Besides, the Bible says that he is a

son of Ham, and prophecy must be carried out in
the rice swamps, sugar canes, and maize fields of

- - -
the Southern Confederation. It's flat blasphemy
to set yourself against it. Our Saviour sanctions
slavery because he does not say a word against it,
and it's very likely that St. Paul was a slaveowner.
Had cotton and sugar been known he might have
been a planter ! Besides, the negro is civilised by
being carried away from Africa and set to work
instead of idling in native inutility. What hope is
there of Christianising the African races except by
the agency of the apostles from New Orleans,
Mobile, or Charleston, who sing the sweet songs of
Zion with such vehemence and clamour so fervently
for baptism in the waters of the " Jawdatu ?" If
these high physical, metaphysical, moral, and re-
ligious reasonings do not satisfy you, and you ven-
ture to be unconvinced and to say so, then I advise
you not to come within reach of a mass meeting of
our citizens, who may be able to find a rope and a
tree in the neighbourhood.

EXTRAORDINARY ATTEMPT AT METZ?.

RR BY A FOREIGN AOBLEHAIV:

(Front the Morning Post.)
The public mind has hardly recovered from the
excitement occasioned by the great fire in the me-
tropolis when it is likely to be agitated by the pro-
mulgation of one of the most fearful incidents that
has occurred in this country for many years past—
an attempt not merely at murder, but the murder
of a son by a father, a man of rank, of distinguished
manners and position, moving in the best society.
Nor is the crime one of darkness or of secrecy ; it
was perpetrated—if accounts be true, and, unfor-
tunately, there is no reason to doubt them—in broad
daylight, within a few paces of a frequented high-
road, in a populous neighbourhood, and not many
yards away from a palace which the perpetrator of
the crime was apparently on his way to visit, after
calling and being received as a welcome guest at
another residence of the same royal family. -
The story about to be told is unparalleled in the
annals of crime, in the romance of private life, or in
those stories of domestic tragedy familiar to every
English fire-side.
For some years past there has moved in London
society an individual commonly known as the
Baron de Vidil. In manners polished, in address
insinuating; tall, graceful, eleg en t, and accom-
plished ; of brown complexion, in ripened man-
hood, with hair still black and cut short, as of one
who remembered his campaign in Algeria, and how
very much that hair had been in the way when An
Arab seized it in close contest ; with whiskers just
powdered by time ; reputed wealthy • coming into
society under the respectable name of the Orleans
family, with the romantic reputation of fidelity to a
fallen dynasty, no wonder that the Baron Alfred
Louis Pons de Vidil readily found his way, under
such auspices, into the heart and centre of London
society. Such a man came, saw, and conquered.
In 1835 he married Miss Susannah Jackson, co-
heiress to a wealthy Hertfordshire gentleman, and
found his associations with English society
strengthened by his " family" ties with the brother
of his wife, a gentleman of ancient family and pro-
perty. Hence he soon became a member of the
Travellers' Club. When the premature death of his
wife had freed him from the constraint of domestic
ties, he lived a bachelor at the Clarendon, and when
the attractions of the London season were over, he
was lost sight of by the gay world for a time. This
foreign nobleman of pleasant manners, reputed
wealth, and matured experience, had a son, the heir
of a large portion of his mother's fortune (to descend
to his father if he died without heirs). This son,
having graduated at Cambridge, was now 23 years
of age, and was in a position to claim his fortune.
The father had not permitted the gaities of fashion-
able life to make him forget the pleasures of a pa-
, rent, and thus it happened that on Friday, June
28—that is just a fortnight ago—the baron sent to
his son's chambers in Jermyn-street, inviting him
to come to breakfast with him at the Clarendon,
and go with him to make a call on the ex-Queen of
France, at Claremont; They left the Clarendon to-
gether at 12 o'clock, and proceeded to Waterloo
Station, where they took the 12 45 train to Twicken-
ham, and there alighted. It will be remembered
that there is an inn close by the Twickenham sta-
tion, and thither, at the Baron de Vidil's sugges-
tion, his son, Alfred John de Vidil, went with him,
and the baron having selected two horses, it was
settled they should ride on to Claremont, about six
or seven miles distant. The baron handed his son
a light lady's riding whip, and asked for one for
himself, but started without it. On nearing Clare-
mont the baron at first wished to put up at an inn
and take some refreshment, but afterwards went
forward a short distance to see whether any of the
Orleans family were at the palace. Having ascer-
tained the presence of the Due d'Orleaus, they re-
turned to the inn, put up their horses, and walked
to Claremont House. The Due d'Orleans received
the Baron de Vidil as an honoured guest, and
chatted with him in a friendly manner on vari-
ous subjects foi nearly an hour. The father and
son then returned together to the inn, remounted
their horses, and proceeded gently at a walking pace
homeward. It was at this time his son became im-
pressed with a strangeness in his father's manner, a
singular absorption on his part, which led him, from
some unknown impulse, to lay particular attention
to his father's every action. He noticed that his
father, who was a fine horseman, made his horse
passage and curvet, and occasionally rear, but this
had not the effect of making his son's horse even
fidgetty, for it was a dull beast. They kept on at a
walk until they had reached Hampton, where the
baron proposed they should rest and take refresh•
ment; but his son declined, being anxious to get rid
of his horse and finish the journey, during the whole
of which he had felt depressed as if by the conscioas-
ness of some coming misfortune. He therefore rode
on, but his father soon overtook him, and on cfroomminga
up asked him to dine at Hampton,
similar feeling, the young Alfred
again r
of Bushey
wilichdeclined.
As they passed out through the gate
cut with
Park the baron gave his son's horse a sly
him but the
the whip which he had taken
horse was so tame in spirrittionorromso used to such
of hired hacks
touching up—the usual
.po
that it took no notice of it, and the baron returned
his son the whip.
Trivial as these matters may
appear, the
enumeration and character of them tends
to deductions of importance in relation to subse-
quent events. It must be observed that the Baron
de Vidil carried no whip, stick, or weapon with him,
and that if he had any about him they must have
been concealed. They now went along at a slightly
brisker pace by the high road towards Twicken-
ham, and when they had reached a public-house on
the road side, just where a lane branches off, the
baron checked his horse and inquired of his sou