Anti-slavery bugle. [volume] (New-Lisbon, Ohio) 1845-1861, 1847-12-03
From the Liberty Bell.
A Day in Kentucky.

A tan with a riding-whip on the door, rous-
ed me from my book, and on opening IL, l
saw before me an elderly man, Of some sixty
years, tall in stature, erect as an Indian, with
a cheek where the brown and red were blend
ed in perfect health, and whose long white
hair hoated over his shoulders.
"Ailow me- said he, with an air Of sweep
ing and graceful courtesy, " TO announce my
self as John Kemp. | heard from my friend
s., that you were here, and propose to you TO
take a ride to my farm. The morning is glo-
rious ; the horses at the door the road good;
my boy will bring your portmanteau; the la
dies will be glad 10 zee you; my sons are
noble fellows-l promise you a pleasant time,
and will take no REFUSAL" And, shaking
me by the hand, with a warm, yet d~igniied
welcome, he seated himself till l should be
ready.
The morning was glorious, as he said
bright and soft as October everywhere is, in
the Western Valley. A blue haze hung
uround the horizon; they were glowing with
golden and crimson on sandy slopes the
frost still glittered on the grass; the birds
with chipping notes of song, and twinkling
wings flew in and out of the bushes; the liz
ard and adder were summing themselves, and
the squirrel overhead rustling the leaves as
he sprang on the cracking ~boughs; the smoke
curled steadily up from the brush-fres; long
silvery lines Of gossamer foated on the air,
and the fitting leaves twiiled circling down
our path. The air and the scene unloosed
our tongues and hearts; and, as we pass
ed along, with the swing trot of the Ken
lucky horses, talked with the openness Of old
friends.
Slavery, of course, was one Of the topics;
and | found on this occasion, as | invariably
have, that a Southern man could unhesliating-
ly say a hundI ed things of the evils of this
relation, which many a Northern man would
blush and stammer over, and apologize for,
and explain about. Among other things, the
Judge said
"Young d. of Boston, was here some
while ago, and sought to ingratiate himself
with me, by speaking Of slavery as favorable
to free-mindednes in the masters. Shame
on such sycophantsn' cried he, rising in his
stirrups as he spoke, and dashing with his
whip a burr from a chestnut tree, beneath
which he was passing, as If in uncomfortable
impotence. "Shame on the sycophants !
when we are sick at heart with this social
cancer, to force this nauseous flattery down
our threats, as you would give opium to a
dying man. If he had no, been my guest, !
should have ~horse-whipped him for a mean
spirited fool, as he was"
| shall not soon forget that day-the quiet
luxury, and yet simplicity of the style OF liv.
ing, the frank courtesy, the confident, self.
respecting, and respectful, bold, and gay air
of the men; the somewhat naughty, yet gen.
tie, and easy manner of the women-above
all, the overlooking affectionateness of each
other, and the hospitality, without a reserve
or an effort, to me, a stranger. But on this
point [ cannot dwell l wish to relate what
was told me in the afternoon, by one of the
daughters, as we walked over the estate.
at all looks bright, and peaceful, and hap
nv, does il not !" said she, as standing on. a
little knoll under a group of hickory trees
she pointed over the wide fields OF the fami'
" mansion, and the cluster of slave huts, al
whose doors, the children, in swarms, were
playing, with the noisy glee Of the African
!" But" she continued, after a gloomy pause
ito US, who know what slavery is, this peace
is the green corruption of the stsgnant pool
the peace of death. o! worse-far worse
Do YOU see that spreading beech yonder, jus,
on the edge Of the hemp-held, where the
ditch runs1 1t was there that my brother
Frank received tne blow on the forehead, OF
which you observe perhaps, the scar. | will
tell you about it. 1t was his duty, at thai
time, to keep the nightly watch. For you
know" said she, turning to me with a smile
of bitter irony, I" that we have t. be guardian
to these poor friends, who love US so as neveI
to leave us. Well, Frank kept the nightly
watch. Armed to the teeth, with a dark Ian
tern,) he passed once or twice, or ottener
around the plantation.
Zone stormy night, some two years since
he had reached that spot, when suddenly, HI
heard a cracking sound among the hemI
stalks. He cloaked his lantern, drew a pts
toll, and stepped behind the tree. In a mo
ment, a man, with stealthy tread, approache,
the ditch, which is the boundary of the farm
on that side. Frank flashed the light upol
him. 1t was his own ~favorite slave, Ned
of the same age with himself-almost a fos
ter brother, for his brother was Franks nurse
his fellow-rambler in the woods, his play.fe
low through early years. Hunting, fishing
swimming, nutliug, tanning horses-ever
sport had been shared by them. Frank love
that man, and Ned, | believe in my hear
loved him. He was high-spirited and mai
ly, though a negro; strong, bold, and some
what passionate and, as we found out after
wards, had been struck that day by the ovel
seer. 'Ned,' said my brother, turn back
/ cannot in honor let you go. am my ia
theirs Waterman. You know that l am you
friend. We are all your friends sMaste
Frank answered the noble fellow-for h
was 50, though he almost killed my b.othe
- Master Frank! God knows | would di
for you, but | will not be taken. That wretc
shall never lay his hand on me again. Lit
me pass, | beseech you let me pass Fran
stood firm. Again Ned besought him in vair
He then turned to leap aside. Frank cried
'beware! | shall fire ! and quick as though
Ned struck him a stunning blow. He fe
utterly insensible. And what did that ma
doi Did he leap the ditch and fly! No
he took my bleeding brother on his shoulders
he carried him to The nearest slave hut; rous
ed the inmates; set him erect by the door
and then, and not till then, made his escape
Time enough elapsed before Frank coul