The Sable Cloud 
 
The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sable Cloud, by Nehemiah 
Adams This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and 
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Title: The Sable Cloud A Southern Tale With Northern Comments 
(1861) 
Author: Nehemiah Adams 
Release Date: January 6, 2005 [EBook #14615] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE 
SABLE CLOUD *** 
 
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THE SABLE CLOUD: 
A SOUTHERN TALE, 
WITH NORTHERN COMMENTS. 
BY THE AUTHOR OF "A SOUTH-SIDE VIEW OF SLAVERY." 
"I did not err, there does a sable cloud Turn forth her silver lining on 
the night" 
MILTON'S COMUS 
BOSTON: TICKNOR AND FIELDS. MDCCCLXI 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1861, by
TICKNOR AND FIELDS, 
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of 
Massachusetts 
RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY H 
O HOUGHTON 
 
CONTENTS. 
PAGE 
CHAPTER I. 
DEATH AND BURIAL OF A SLAVE'S INFANT 1 
 
CHAPTER II. 
NORTHERN COMMENTS ON SOUTHERN LIFE 5 
 
CHAPTER III. 
MORBID NORTHERN CONSCIENCE 32 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
RESOLUTIONS FOR A CONVENTION 53 
 
CHAPTER V. 
THE GOOD NORTHERN LADY'S LETTER FROM THE SOUTH 59 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 118 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
OWNERSHIP IN MAN.--THE OLD TESTAMENT SLAVERY 150
CHAPTER VIII. 
THE TENURE 177 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
DISCUSSION IN PHILEMON'S CHURCH AT THE RETURN OF 
ONESIMUS 205 
 
CHAPTER X. 
THE FUTURE 239 
 
CHAPTER I. 
DEATH AND BURIAL OF A SLAVE'S INFANT. 
"The small and great are there, and the servant is free from his master." 
A Southern gentleman, who was visiting in New York, sent me, with 
his reply to my inquiries for the welfare of his family at home, the 
following letter which he had just received from one of his married 
daughters in the South. 
The reader will be so kind as to take the assurance which the writer 
hereby gives him, that the letter was received under the circumstances 
now stated, and that it is not a fiction. Certain names and the date only 
are, for obvious reasons, omitted. 
THE LETTER. 
MY DEAR FATHER,-- 
You have so recently heard from and about those of us left here, and 
that in a so much more satisfactory way than through letters, that it 
scarcely seems worth while to write just yet. But Mary left Kate's poor 
little baby in such a pitiable state, that I think it will be a relief to all to
hear that its sufferings are ended. It died about ten o'clock the night that 
she left us, very quietly and without a struggle, and at sunset on Friday 
we laid it in its last resting-place. My husband and I went out in the 
morning to select the spot for its burial, and finding the state of affairs 
in the cemetery, we chose a portion of ground and will have it inclosed 
with a railing. They have been very careless in the management of the 
ground, and have allowed persons to inclose and bury in any shape or 
way they chose, so that the whole is cut up in a way that makes it 
difficult to find a place where two or three graves could be put near 
each other. We did find one at last, however, about the size of the Hazel 
Wood lots; and we will inclose it at once, so that when another, either 
from our own family or those of the other branches, wants a 
resting-place, there shall not be the same trouble. Poor old Timmy lies 
there; but it is in a part of the grounds where, the sexton tells us, the 
water rises within three feet of the surface; so, of course, we did not go 
there for this little grave. His own family selected his burial-place, and 
probably did not think of this. 
Kate takes her loss very patiently, though she says that she had no idea 
how much she would grieve after the child. It had been sick so long 
that she said she wanted to have it go; but I knew when she said it that 
she did not know what the parting would be. It is not the parting alone, 
but it is the horror of the grave,--the tender child alone in the far off 
gloomy burial-ground, the heavy earth piled on the tender little breast, 
the helplessness that looked to you for protection which you could not 
give, and the emptiness of the home to which you return when the child 
is gone. He who made a mother's heart    
    
		
	
	
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