Hanover; Or The Persecution of the Lowly: A Story of the Wilmington Massacre.Thorne, Jack
History
Hanover; Or The Persecution of the Lowly: A Story of the Wilmington Massacre.
Thorne, Jack
African Americans -- North Carolina -- Wilmington -- Fiction; Wilmington (N.C.) -- History -- Fiction
ourselves may expect. She has carried us in her arms and suckled us at
her breast, and in thousands of instances her word has been the only law
among our children in our nurseries. She heard and faithfully kept the
secrets of our lives. We sought her advice, and believed in the efficacy
of her prayers." "Now, Marjorie, you know," said Mrs. Bruce, "that such
Negro women are still dear to us; these old mammies and uncles who know
and keep in their places are never troubled in the South. The Yankee did
us a great injury by lifting the Negro out of his place, and making him
feel that he is as good as we are. It is this new Nigger that is
causing all the trouble. The black woman, allowed to dress and flaunt
about illures, tempts and often robs our domestic life of its sweetness,
while the black man, with the wrong conception of freedom, often makes
it impossible for our men to leave their homes unguarded." "Bah! away
with such nonsensical babbling! You are saying, Mrs. Bruce, that which
down in your innermost soul you do not believe. Such talk as that has
given Southern women undesirable notoriety, and is making the world
believe that to keep us pure it costs yearly hundreds of ignominious
human sacrifices, a thing that we should rise up and brand as a lie! Who
is to guard the home of the Negro man? Can we look around Wilmington and
believe that his home does not need a stronger arsenal than ours? While
we are boiling over with sympathy for Mrs. Hartright, do we think for a
moment of the humble home of that Negro father made unhappy by Mr.
Hartright? Do we feel pity for Dan Hawes, John Maxim, Charlotte Jones?
The Negro no longer feels that the appearance of a white illegitimate
among his honestly begotten piccaninnies is an honor bestowed upon his
household. Charlotte's case was indeed a sad one. No one knows better
than I what a heavy heart she carried after her favorite child, the one
she had taken such pains to educate, and from whom she expected so much,
fell a victim to the flatteries of a Jew." "Well, must white women stop
to lament over such things?" asked Mrs. Hill. "Are we to blame for the
shortcomings of these people?" "Yes," answered the hostess. "We have
looked on unmoved and beheld our sister in black shorn of all protection
by the laws upon the State books of every Southern State, that she may
be humiliated with impunity, and we have gloried in her shame."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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