The voice of freedom. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1839-1848, 1846-09-17
Poor Pauline.
A TOUCHING TALE OF TRUTH.
BILL G. ITHiNier.

ByJ G. Whittier.
Many of our readers have probably seen
paragraph stating that young slave-gir
was recently hanged at New Orleans, for the
crime Of striking and abusing her Mistress
The religious press of the North has not, SC
far as we are aware, made any comments up
on the execution. Yet this case, viewed in
all its aspects, is an atrocity which has, God
be thanked, no parallel in heather lands. 1t
is a hideous otf-shoot of American republican,
ism and American christianity.
1t seems that Pauline-a young and beau
tiful girl-attracted the admiration of her
master, and being, to use the words of the
/ law, his "chattel personal to all intent and
purposes WhdtSOeuer," became the victim of
his lust So wretched is the condition of the
slave-woman, that even the brutal and licen-
tious regard Of her master is looked upon as
the highest eXaltation Of which her lot is suS-
ceptibe The slave-girl, in this instance, ev-
identity SO regarded it; and as a natural con-
sequence, in her new condition, triumphed
over and insulted her mistress-in other
words, repaid the scorn and abuse with which
her mistress had made her painfully famil-
lar.
The laws of the christian state of N1issssip,
pi intlict the punishment of Death upon the
slave who lifts his or her hand against white
person. Pauline was accused Of beating her
mistress, tried and found guilty, and condemn
ed to die. But it was discovered on the trial
that she was in a condition to become a moth
er, and her execution was delayed until the
birth Of her child. She was returned to her
prison cell. There, for weary months, I'M
cheered by the voice Of kindness, alone, hope
less, desolate, she waited for the advent Of the
new and quickenng life within her which was
to be the signal of her own miserable death
And the bells there called to mass and prayer
meeting, and Methodists sang, and Baptists
immersed, and Prcsbytcrians sprinklcd-and
young mothers smiled through tears upon
their new born children and young maidens
and matrons Of that great city sat in their cool
verandahs and talked of love and household
Joys, and domestic happiness-while all that
dreary time the poor slave-girl lay on the
scanty straw of her dungeon, waiting, with
what agony the dear and plying God of the
white and black only knows, for the birth Of
the child of her adulterous violator Horri-
bic Was ever what George Sand justly
terms the great martyrdom of maternity"
that fearful trial which love alone converts
into joy speakabe-endured under such
conditions What was her substitute for the
KIND voices and gentle soothlngs OF affection
the harsh grating of her prison lock-the
mockings and taun's Of unfceling and brutal
keepers What with the poor Pauline took
the place of the hopes and joyful anticipations
which support and solacc the white mother,
and make her couch of torture happy with
sweet dreams The prospect of seeing the
child Of her sorrow, of feeling its lips upon
her bosom, Of hearing its feeble cry--alone,
unvisited of its unnatural father; and then in
q few days just when the mothers affections
are strongest and the first smile other infant
compensates for the pangs of the past,-thc
scaffold and the hangmanl Think of that
last terrible scene-the tearing of the infant
from her arms, the death-march to the gallows,
the rope around her delicate neck, and her
long and dreadful struggles Qor attenuatcd
and worn by physical suffering and mental
sorrow, her slight frame had not sufficient
weight left to produce the dislocation of her
neck, on the falling of the drop,) swinging
there alive for nearly half an hour-a specta-
Gle for fends in the shape of humanity
Mothers of New England such are the fruits
of slavery. Oh, in the name of the blessed
God, teach your children to hate it, and to
pity its victims.