r freedom," says I, "sure the negroes may
fight, too." On which Harry roars out, shaking his fist, "Infernal
villains, if I meet any of 'em, they shall die by this hand!" And
my mother agreed that this idea of a negro insurrection was the most
abominable and parricidal notion which had ever sprung up in her unhappy
country. She at least was more consistent than brother Hal. She would
have black and white obedient to the powers that be: whereas Hal only
could admit that freedom was the right of the latter colour.

As a proof of her argument, Madam Esmond and Harry too would point to
an instance in our own family in the person of Mr. Gumbo. Having got his
freedom from me, as a reward for his admirable love and fidelity to me
when times were hard, Gumbo, on his return to Virginia, was scarce a
welcome guest in his old quarters, amongst my mother's servants. He was
free, and they were not: he was, as it were, a centre of insurrection.
He gave himself no small airs of protection and consequence amongst
them; bragging of his friends in Europe ("at home," as he called it),
and his doings there; and for a while bringing the household round about
him to listen to him and admire him, like the monkey who had seen the
world. Now, Sady, Hal's boy, who went to America of his own desire,
was not free. Hence jealousies between him and Mr. Gum; and battles,
in which they both practised the noble art of boxing and butting, which
they had learned at Marybone Gardens and Hockley-in-the-Hole. Nor was
Sady the only jealous person: almost all my mother's servants hated
Signor Gumbo for the airs which he gave himself; and I am sorry to
say, that our faithful Molly, his wife, was as jealous as his old
fellow-servants. The blacks could not pardon her for having demeaned
herself so far as to marry one of their kind. She met with no respect,
could exercise no authority, came to her mistress with ceaseless
complaints of the idleness, knavery, lies, stealing of the black people;
and finally with a story of jealousy against a certain Dinah, or Diana,
who, I heartily trust, was as innocent as her namesake the moonlight
visitant of Endymion. Now, on the article of morality Madam Esmond was
a very Draconess; and a person accused was a person guilty. She made
charges against Mr. Gumbo to which he replied with asperity. Forgetting
that he was a free gentleman, my mother now ordered Gumbo to be whipped,
on which Molly flew at her ladyship, all her wrath at