Of One Blood: Or, the Hidden Self

“Scarcely waiting for a silence, a female figure rose and came slowly to the edge of the platform and stood in the blaze of lights with hands modestly clasped before her. She was not in any way the preconceived idea of a Negro. Fair as the fairest woman in the hall, with wavy bands of chestnut hair, and great, melting eyes of brown, soft as those of childhood; a willowy figure of exquisite mould, clad in a sombre gown of black. There fell a voice upon the listening ear, in celestial showers of silver that passed all conceptions, all comparisons, all dreams; a voice beyond belief—a great soprano of unimaginable beauty, soaring heavenward in mighty intervals. […] All the horror, the degradation from which a race had been delivered were in the pleading strains of the singer’s voice.”

The first description of Dianthe establishes her similar appearance to Reuel and emphasizes her gift in music. Singing is an important element for Dianthe’s character as it is the only means by which she develops a voice. The expression of her emotional word through songs connects with the larger African American experience. Dianthe’s gift in music allows her to express the desires and troubles of her race and find a liberating outlet.

“He turned his head and saw a female figure just ahead of him in the path, coming toward him. He could not see her features distinctly, only the eyes—large, bright and dark. But their expression! Sorrowful, wistful—almost imploring—gazing straightforward, as if they saw nothing—like the eyes of a person entirely absorbed and not distinguishing one object from another. […] Suddenly she covered her face with her clasped hands, as if in uncontrollable grief. Moved by a mighty emotion, Briggs addressed the lonely figure: ‘You are in trouble, madam; may I help you?’ Briggs never knew how he survived the next shock. Slowly the hands were removed from the face and the moon gave a distinct view of the lovely features of the jubilee singer—Dianthe Lusk. She did not seem to look at Briggs, but straight before her, as she said in a low, clear, passionless voice: ‘You can help me, but not now; tomorrow.’”

The passage describes Dianthe’s second appearance as a vision to Reuel. Reuel’s visions of Dianthe signify their connection but also come to symbolize Black Women’s Quest for Liberation. Dianthe is the only Black woman in the story who assumes both a physical and a spiritual form. While in life, Dianthe’s inner self remains oppressed, but her spirit voices her demands for justice and liberation, asking for Reuel’s help.

“The muse returned with the broth; Dianthe drank it eagerly and called for water, then with her hand still clasped in Reuel’s she sank into a deep sleep, breathing softly like a tired child. It was plain to the man of science that hope for the complete restoration of her faculties would depend upon time, nature and constitution. Her effort to collect her thoughts was unmistakable. In her sleep, presently, from her lips fell incoherent words and phrases; but through it all she clung to Reuel’s hand, seeming to recognize in him a friend.”

Reuel revives Dianthe in the hospital after her accident, in an attempt to awaken her both in body and spirit. While her physical condition is restored, her consciousness remains lost and Dianthe remains lost. The scene, however, establishes the connection and familiarity between the two characters. While they do not know about their familial relationship, Dianthe replies to Reuel, sensing their bond.

“Oh! Dearest friend! Hasten to cure me of my sufferings. Did you not promise at that last meeting? You said to me, ‘You are in trouble and I can help you.’ And I answered, ‘The time is not yet.’ Is it not so?’ ‘Yes,’ replied Reuel. ‘Patience a while longer; all will be well with you. Give me the benefit of your powerful will,’ she continued. ‘I know much but as yet have not the power to express it: I see much clearly, much dimly, of the powers and influences behind the Veil, and yet I cannot name them. Some time the full power will be mine; and mine shall be thine.’”

The passage relates to the theme of Black Women’s Quest for Liberation and indicates the complex gendered perspective in the demands for racial justice. Dianthe’s pleas to Reuel symbolize her demands for justice and freedom. However, Reuel seems unable to understand her inner world. While he wants to help her, Dianthe remains oppressed as a Black woman. True liberation will be accomplished when both she and Reuel have the power to express. Hopkins complicates the ability of Black men to be exclusive advocates for Black women’s freedom and shows Dianthe’s desire for self-empowerment.

“My father made the necessary passes and from a serious, rather sad Negress, very mild with everyone, Mira changed to a gay, noisy, restless woman, full of irony and sharp jesting. In this case this peculiar metamorphosis always occurred. Nothing could be more curious than to see her and hear her. ‘Tell the company what you see, Mira,’ commanded my father. ‘You will not like it, captain; but if I must, I must. All the women will be widows and the men shall sleep in early graves. They come from the north, from the east, from the west, they sweep to the gulf through a trail of blood. Your houses shall burn, your fields be laid waste, and a down-trodden race shall rule in your land.’”

Aubrey’s description of his father’s hypnosis of Mira hints at a wider pattern of exploitation. Yet, even from her enslaved position, Mira exercises power, prophesying the defeat of the South in the Civil War. Mira’s supernatural powers connect her with Reuel, and her insight into the future remains central throughout the story.

“There’s an expedition just about starting from England for Africa; its final destination is, I believe, the site of ancient Ethiopian cities; its object to unearth buried cities and treasure which the shifting sands of Sahara have buried for centuries. This expedition lacks just such a medical man as you; the salary is large, but you must sign for two years; that is my reason for not mentioning it before. It bids fair to be a wonderful venture and there will be plenty of glory for those who return, beside the good it will do to the Negro race if it proves the success in discovery that scholars predict. I don’t advise you to even consider this opportunity, but you asked for my help and this is all I can offer at present.”

The passage describes the first turning point in the narrative that thrusts Reuel into the journey to Africa following Aubrey’s plan. Aubrey plans to send Reuel into exile by luring him with the idea of wealth. Reuel’s financial struggles force him to accept Aubrey’s proposal as the only solution that would enable him to marry Dianthe. Aubrey’s role in the narrative begins to shift, creating a mystery around his motives.

“He continued: ‘I love you better than all in the world. To possess you I am prepared to prove false to my friend—I am prepared to save you from the fate that must be yours if ever Reuel learns your origin.’ ‘You would have me give up all for you?’ she asked with a shudder. ‘Ay, from your husband—from the world! We will go where none can ever find us. If you refuse, I cannot aid you.’ ‘Pity me!’ She sank upon her knees at his feet. ‘I give you a week to think it over. I can love, but cannot pity.’ In vain the girl sought to throw off the numbing influence of the man’s presence. In desperation she tried to defy him, but she knew that she had lost her will-power and was but a puppet in the hands of this false friend.”

Aubrey’s personality begins to unfold immediately after Reuel’s departure, when he begins to exert power and control over Dianthe. While professing his love for her, his words reveal his obsession and desire to possess her. Dianthe becomes a means for Aubrey to realize his own desires by any means, and her suffering exacerbates. Aubrey is established as a fake friend to both Reuel and Dianthe. Aubrey perpetuates the legacy of white male power.

“As she sat there in full possession of all her waking faculties, suddenly there rose from out the very floor, as it were, a pale and lovely woman. She neither looked at Dianthe nor did she speak; but walked to the table and opened a book lying upon it and wrote; then coming back, stood for a moment fixed; then sank, just as she rose, and disappeared. Her dress was that of a servant. Her head was bare; her hair fell loosely around her in long black curls. […] There on the open page, she perceived heavy marks in ink, under-scoring the following quotation from the 12th chapter of Luke: “For there is nothing covered that shall not be revealed.” On the margin, at the end of this passage was written in a fine female hand, the single word, ‘Mira.’”

The passage describes the first appearance of Mira as a vision to her daughter Dianthe and foreshadows the subsequent plot twist in the story. Mira has no voice, but her shadow coming from the past is the first warning to Dianthe about the painful reality. Mira’s ghost connects to the themes of Addressing the Traumatic Historical Past and Black Women’s Quest for Liberation as she foretells of dark secrets that remain hidden. Dianthe’s ability to see visions also reveals her own spiritual power, which exists within her despite the oppression she experiences from Aubrey.

“[Reuel] suffered more than any of them, although he succeeded in affecting a certain air of indifference. As he gradually calmed down and peace returned to his mind, he was surprised to feel the resignation that possessed him. Some unseen presence spoke to his inner being words of consolation and hope. He was shown very clearly his own inability to control events, and that his fate was no longer in his own hands but ordered by a being of infinite pity and love. After hours spent in soul-communion with the spirit of Dianthe, he would sink into refreshing slumber and away in peace. Her letters were bright spots, very entertaining and describing minutely her life and daily occupation since his departure. He lived upon them during the voyage to Tripoli, sustained by the hope of finding one upon arriving at that city.”

The narrative shifts as it follows Reuel’s journey into Africa. At first, Reuel is tormented by homesickness while thinking of Dianthe. He begins to realize that he lacks agency and control over his life, and his spiritual connection with Dianthe sustains him. Despite his distress, sparks of hope develop within him, signaling a gradual shift in his emotions. Still, he expects Dianthe’s letters to carry on with his journey.

“Suddenly a rush of balmy air seemed to pass over the brow of the scribe, and a dim shadow fell across the tent door. It was the form of the handsome Negress who had appeared to Dianthe, and signed herself ‘Mira.’ There was no fear in Reuel’s gaze, no surprise; it was as if a familiar and welcome visitor had called upon him. For a moment an impulse to spring away into the wide, wide realms of air, seemed to possess him; the next, the still, dreamy ecstasy of a past time; and then he saw Jim—who sat directly behind him—placed like a picture on his very table. He saw him knit his brow, contract his lip, and then, with a face all seamed with discontent, draw from his vest a letter, seemingly hidden in a private pocket, reading thus:—Use your discretion about the final act, but be sure the letters are destroyed.”

It is Mira’s ghost that first reveals Aubrey’s conspiracy to Reuel. For the first time, Mira’s shadow appears to her son and communicates with him as a spirit, fulfilling her promise of revealing dark secrets. The passage is a crucial point in the narrative as it poses an obstacle that raises the stakes of Reuel’s journey. Jim Titus endangers the character’s course.

“‘For three thousand years the world has been mainly indebted for its advancement to the Romans, Romans, Greeks, Hebrews, Germans and Anglo-Saxons; but it was otherwise in the first years. Babylon and Egypt—Nimrod and Mizraim—both descendants of Ham—led the way, and acted as the pioneers of mankind in the untrodden fields of knowledge. The Ethiopians, therefore, manifested great superiority over all the nations among whom they dwelt, and their name became illustrious throughout Europe, Asia and Africa. The father of this distinguished race was Cush, the grandson of Noah, an Ethiopian. […] Nimrod, Ham’s grandson, founded Babylon. The Babylonians early developed the energy of mind which made their country the first abode of civilization. Canals covered the land, serving the purposes of traffic, defense and irrigation. […] Undoubtedly your Afro-Americans are a branch of the wonderful and mysterious Ethiopians who had a prehistoric existence of magnificence, the full record of which is lost in obscurity.’”

Hopkins uses the language of history in a fictional framework to present her Afrocentric perspective and counter racist views about African society. Through Professor Stone’s speech and his response to Charlie, she constructs an argument that alludes to the theme of Decolonizing African American Identity, hinting at Reuel’s lost lineage and foreshadowing his reconnection with his heritage.

“Somehow since his adventure in the ruins with the leopard, and the mysterious letter-reading, he had felt a deep-seated mistrust of the docile servant. He concluded not to keep him any nearer his person than circumstances demanded. In this resolve Charlie Vance concurred; the two friends resolved to keep an eye on Titus, and Ababdis was sent for the mail. Reuel Briggs had changed much. Harassed by anxieties which arose from his wife’s silence, at the end of two months he was fast becoming a misanthrope. Charlie felt anxious as he looked at him walking restlessly up and down in the pale moonlight, with fiery eyes fixed on space. Charlie suppressed his own feelings over the silence of his father and sister to comfort Reuel.”

Reuel’s distress grows as he has no news of Dianthe, and Jim Titus’s presence remains a threat. Dianthe’s and Molly’s fates remain a mystery at this point in the story. Reuel and Charlie, filled with anxiety, expect news from home. Reuel’s mood fluctuates as he is still tormented by his separation from Dianthe. Home still haunts him, while Charlie proves to be a real friend despite his frivolous character. The imminent arrival of the mail increases their anguish.

“‘You are in the hidden city Telassar. In my people you will behold the direct descendants of the inhabitants of Meroe. We are but a remnant, and here we wait behind the protection of our mountains and swamps, secure from the intrusion of a world that has forgotten, for the coming of our king who shall restore to the Ethiopian race its ancient glory. I am Ai, his faithful prime minister.’ Hopelessly perplexed by the words of the speaker, Reuel tried to convince himself that he was laboring under a wild hallucination; but his senses all gave evidence of the reality of his situation.”

Reuel gets lost in the pyramid after receiving the news of Dianthe’s death, and while in utter despair, he finds the hidden city of Telassar. The passage introduces his guide, Ai, an Ethiopian who is a leader among his people. Reuel believes he experiences a vision but soon accepts the reality of the city. Ai explains that the inhabitants hide themselves from the world to prevent invasion and expect a future king for the uplift of their nation. Their meeting signals the beginning of Reuel’s reconnection with his identity.

“Upon Reuel a strange force seemed working. If what he heard were true, how great a destiny was his! He had carefully hidden his Ethiopian extraction from the knowledge of the world. It was a tradition among those who had known him in childhood that he was descended from a race of African kings. He remembered his mother well. From her he had inherited his mysticism and his occult powers. The nature of the mystic within him was, then, but a dreamlike devotion to the spirit that had swayed his ancestors; it was the shadow of Ethiopia’s power. The lotus upon his breast he knew to be a birthmark. Many a night he had been aroused from childhood’s slumbers, to find his mother bending above him, candle in hand, muttering broken sentences of prayer to Almighty God as she examined his bosom by the candle’s rays.”

After Ai hails him as the long-expected Ethiopian king, Reuel’s consciousness and memories begin to awaken. He recalls old stories from his relatives that preserved African traditions and legends, as well as the memory of his lineage. While Reuel lacked information about his ancestral history, he has a birthmark that proves his royal lineage. His contact with Ai and the inhabitants of Telassar make him reconnect with his own past. He also realizes that his spirituality and mesmeric powers are part of his cultural heritage.

“She reminded him strongly of his beautiful Dianthe; in fact, the resemblance was so striking that it was painful, and tears, which were no disgrace to his manhood, struggled to his eyes. She was the same height as Dianthe, had the same well-developed shoulders and the same admirable bust. What suppleness in all her movements! What grace, and, at the same time, what strength! Yes; she was a Venus, a superb statue of bronze, moulded by a great sculptor; but an animated statue, in which one saw the blood circulate, and from which life flowed. And what an expressive face, full of character! Long, jet-black hair and totally free, covered her shoulders like a silken mantle; a broad, square forehead, a warm bronze complexion; thick black eyebrows, great black eves, now soft and languishing—eyes which could weep in sorrow or shoot forth lightning in their anger.”

The passage describes Reuel’s first meeting with Queen Candace. Reuel notices her resemblance to Dianthe, and her figure becomes a reflection for her. The description of her look and appearance is similar to Dianthe’s, with an emphasis in her expressive eyes. The Queen embodies the life Dianthe could have had in Africa. If Dianthe, like Reuel, had been able to reconnect with her heritage, she would be a royal daughter. Instead, she remains oppressed in America.

“For a few moments Reuel gazed upon the plate, his eyes brilliant with expectation, his cheeks aglow with excitement. Then he involuntarily shuddered, a half suppressed groan escaped him, and he grew ashy pale. In a trice he became entirely unnerved, and staggered back and forth like a drunken man. Greatly alarmed, and seeing he was about to fall, Ai sprang to his side and caught him. Too late. He fell to the floor in a swoon. The picture reflected by the disk was that of the ancestral home of the Livingstons. It showed the parlor of a fine old mansion; two figures stood at an open window, their faces turned to the interior. About the woman’s waist the man’s arm was twined in a loving embrace. The faces were those of Aubrey and Dianthe.”

Through Ai’s intervention and mystical powers, Reuel learns that Dianthe is alive in Aubrey’s ancestral home. The image Reuel sees represents Dianthe as a prisoner in the Southern plantation, as Aubrey has manipulated her to keep her close. The moment is key for the plot as it shifts Reuel’s emotions and sparks his desire to return home for revenge.

“And yet, ye are all of one blood; descended from one common father. Is there ever a flock or herd without its black member? What more beautiful than the satin gloss of the raven’s wing, the soft glitter of eyes of blackest tint or the rich black fur of your own native animals? Fair-haired worshippers of Mammon, do you not know that you have been weighed in the balance and found wanting? that your course is done? that Ethiopia’s bondage is about over, her travail passed?”

Upon his first meeting with Charlie, Ai criticizes Western culture and presents his national pride. Ai believes that Westerners’ love of material wealth is their doom and weakness, and expects the resurrection of his nation. Ai’s argument on humanity rejects racism and supports the author’s overarching idea that all people are equal and “of one blood.” He argues that Black people are part of humanity and counters Charlie’s Eurocentric perspective.

“‘The way of the transgressor is hard,’ groaned the man. ‘I would not have been here had I not consented to take your life. I am sure you must have suspected me; I was but a bungler, and often my heart failed me.’ ‘Unhappy man! how could you plot to hurt one who has never harmed you?’ exclaimed Reuel. ‘Aubrey Livingston was my foster brother, and I could deny him nothing.’ ‘Aubrey Livingston! Was he the instigator?’ ‘Yes,’ sighed the dying man. ‘Return home as soon as possible and rescue your wife—your wife, and yet not your wife—for a man may not marry his sister.’ ‘What!’ almost shrieked Reuel. ‘What!’ ‘I have said it. Dianthe Lusk is your own sister, the half-sister of Aubrey Livingston, who is your half-brother.”

While dying, Jim Titus confesses Aubrey’s murder plot and his own guilt in plotting to murder Reuel. Aubrey exploited his influence on Jim Titus, his Black attendant and foster-brother, to achieve his goals. The passage also reveals the blood relations of the characters, revealing incest as a plot twist.

“Through the long journey homeward two men thought only of vengeance, but with very different degrees of feeling. Charlie Vance held to the old Bible punishment for the pure crime of manslaughter, but in Reuel’s wrongs lay something beyond the reach of punishment by the law’s arm; in it was the accumulation of years of foulest wrongs heaped upon the innocent and defenceless women of a race, added to this last great outrage.”

As Reuel and Charlie depart for America to punish Aubrey, Reuel reaches a new stage of insight. After learning the traumatizing history of his familial past, Reuel understands the great injustice that Black women endure and begins to realize Dianthe’s suffering. While Molly also suffered because of Aubrey, Reuel understands that racial hate creates a particular form of oppression that Black women were most vulnerable to.

“For weeks after these happenings Dianthe lived in another world, unconscious of her own identity. It was early fall before her full faculties were once more with her. The influence which Livingston had acquired rendered her quiescent in his hands, and not too curious as to circumstances of time and place. One day he brought her a letter, stating that Reuel was dead. Sick at heart, bending beneath the blight that thus unexpectedly fell upon her, the girl gave herself up to grief, and weary of the buffets of Fate, yielded to Aubrey’s persuasions and became his wife. On the night which witnessed Jim Titus’s awful death, they had just returned to Livingston’s ancestral home in Maryland.”

After the boat accident, Dianthe loses her memory again, and Aubrey is able to exploit her. She is unable to resist his power because she remains isolated and unconscious of her identity. Aubrey lies to marry her, and she yields to his pressures. Ultimately, Aubrey realizes his desires, and Dianthe lives as a captive in the old Livingston plantation.

“‘Tell me all—tell me the rest,’ came from the lips of the trembling girl. ‘Her second child was a girl,—a beautiful, delicate child, an’ de Doctor fairly worshipped her. Dat leetle gal was yourself, an’ I’m your granny.’ ‘Then Reuel Briggs is my brother!’ ‘Certain; but let me tell you de res’, honey. Dese things jes’ got to happen in slavery, but I isn’t gwine to wink at de debbil’s wurk wif both eyes open. An’ I doesn’t want you to keep on livin’ with Marse Aubrey Livingston. It’s too wicked; it’s flyin’ in de face ob Almighty God. I’se wanted to tell you eber sense I knowed who he’d married. After a while de Doctor got to thinkin’ ‘bout keepin’ up de family name, an’ de fus’ thing we knows he up an’ marries a white lady down to Charleston, an’ brings her home. Well! When she found out all de family secrets she made de house too hot to hol’ Mira, and it was ordered that she mus’ be sold away.’”

Aunt Hannah’s narration connects to the theme of Addressing the Traumatic Historical Past. Dianthe meets her grandmother, and she learns about their traumatic family history and the devastating impact of the enslavement. Aunt Hannah also pieces together Mira’s history of abuse. The shocking news of her incestuous relationships with Aubrey and Reuel shatters Dianthe, who accepts her demise.

“Louder it came and louder. Louder and yet more loud the music swelled to thunder! The unseen mass must have been the disembodied souls of every age since Time began, so vast the rush and strong the footfalls. And then the chant of thousands of voices swelling in rich, majestic choral tones, joined in the thundering crash. It was the welcome of ancient Ethiopia to her dying daughter of the royal line. Upspringing from her couch, as through the air the mighty hallelujah sounded, Dianthe with frantic gestures and wild distended eyes, cried: ‘I see them now! The glorious band! Welcome great masters of the world’s first birth! All hail, my royal ancestors—Candace, Semiramis, Dido, Solomon, David and the great kings of early days, and the great masters of the world of song. O, what long array of souls divine, lit with immortal fire from heaven itself! O, let me kneel to thee! And to thee, too, Beethoven, Mozart, thou sons of song! Divine ones, art thou come to take me home? Me, thy poor worshipper on earth? O, let me be thy child in paradise!’”

The passage describes Dianthe’s last moments in the world as her ultimate liberation. Death frees Dianthe from a world that oppressed her. The music, her constant companion, hails her home. Unlike Reuel, Dianthe reconnects with her identity and heritage only in spirit. She speaks the names of her Ethiopian ancestors as if she sees them in a vision, welcoming her as a royal daughter in paradise. The scene vividly describes Dianthe’s last leap to freedom.

“Gradually he yielded to the mysterious beatitude that insensibly enwrapped his being. Detached from terrestrial bonds, his spirit soared in regions of pure ethereal blue. A delicious torpor held him in its embrace. His head sank upon his breast. His eyes closed in a trancelike slumber. Ai quitted his position, and approaching Aubrey, lifted one of the shut eyelids. ‘He sleeps!’ he exclaimed. Then standing by the side of the unconscious man he poured into his ear—speaking loudly and distinctly,—a few terse sentences. Not a muscle moved in the faces of those standing about the sleeper. Then Ai passed his hands lightly over his face, made a few upward passes, and turning to his companions, beckoned them to follow him from the room. Silently as they had come the group left the house and grounds, gained a waiting carriage and were driven rapidly away. In the shelter of the vehicle Charlie Vance spoke, ‘Is justice done?’ he sternly queried. ‘Justice will be done,’ replied Ai’s soothing tones. ‘Then I am satisfied.’ But Reuel spoke not one word.”

The legal system in America has failed to offer justice and punish Aubrey for his crime. Employing his spiritual powers, Ai hypnotizes Aubrey and sends him to his doom according to the ancient laws of his people. Ai is sure that justice has been accomplished, but even after Aubrey’s punishment, Reuel remains skeptical. Dianthe’s death casts a shadow on the story’s resolution.