Thus the
negro has the advantage of science and privacy.
The jail is a sombre-looking building, with every mark of antiquity
standing boldly outlined upon its exterior. It is surrounded by a
high brick wall, and its windows are grated with double rows of
bars, sufficiently strong for a modern penitentiary. Altogether, its
dark, gloomy appearance strikes those who approach it, with the
thought and association of some ancient cruelty. You enter through
an iron-barred door, and on both sides of a narrow portal leading to
the right are four small cells and a filthy-looking kitchen,
resembling an old-fashioned smoke-house. These cells are the
debtors'; and as we were passing out, after visiting a friend, a
lame "molatto-fellow" with scarcely rags to cover his nakedness, and
filthy beyond description, stood at what was called the kitchen
door. "That poor dejected object," said our friend, "is the cook. He
is in for misdemeanor-one of the peculiar shades of it, for which a
nigger is honored with the jail." "It seems, then, that cooking is a
punishment in Charleston, and the negro is undergoing the penalty,"
said we. "Yes!" said our friend; "but the poor fellow has a
sovereign consolation, which few niggers in Charleston can boast
of-and none of the prisoners here have-he can get enough to eat."
The poor fellow held out his hand as we passed him, and said,
"Massa, gin poor Abe a piece o' 'bacca'?" We freely gave him all in
our possession.
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