Captain Price, who, during Cato’s soliloquy, was hid behind a large box of goods, returned in haste to his room, where he was soon joined by his dutiful servant.
In answer to the rap on the door, the Captain said “Come in.”
Cato, with downcast look, and in an obsequious manner, entered the room, and said, “Marser, I is come to tell you somethin’ dat hangs heavy on my mine, somethin’ dat I had ought to tole you afore dis.”
“Well,” said the master, “what is it, Cato?”
“Now, marser, you hires Charley, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, den, ser, ef Charley runs away you’ll have to pay fer him, won’t you?”
“I think it very probable, as I brought him into a free State, and thereby giving him an opportunity to escape. Why, is he thinking of running away?”
“Yes, ser,” answered Cato, “he’s gwine to start to-night, an’ he’s bin pesterin’ me all day to go wid him.”
“Do you mean to say that Charley has been trying to persuade you to run away from me?” asked the Captain, rather sharply.
“Yes, ser, dats jess what he’s bin a doin’ all day.I axed him whar he’s gwine to, an’ he sed he’s gwine to Canada, an’ he call you some mighty mean names, an’ dat made me mad.”
“Why, Charley has just been here telling me that you were going to run away to-night.”
“With apparent surprise, and opening his large eyes,” Cato exclaimed, “Well, well, well, ef dat nigger don’t beat de debble!” And here the negro raised his hands, and looking upward said, “Afoe God, marser, I would’nt leave you fer dis worl’. Now, ser, jess let me tell you how you can find out who tells de trufe. Charley has got ebry ting ready an’ is a gwine right off. He’s got two pies, some sweetcake, some sandwiches, bread an’ butter, an’ he’s got a pair of pumps to dance in when he gets to Canada. An’ ef you want to kotch him in de ack of runnin’ away, you jess wait out on de dock an’ you’ll kotch him.”
This was said in such an earnest manner, and with such protestations of innocence, that Captain Price determined to follow Cato’s advice and watch for Charley.
“Go see if you can find where Charley is, and come back and let me know,” said the Captain.
Away went Cato, on his tip-toes, in the direction of the steward’s room, where, by looking through the key-hole, he saw the treacherous fellow-servant getting ready for the surprise party that he had engaged the night previous to attend.
Cato returned almost breathless, and in a whisper said, “I foun’ him ser, he’s gittin’ ready to start. He’s got a bundle of provisions tied up all ready, ser;you’ll be shur to kotch him as he’s gwine away, ef you go on de dock.”
Throwing his camlet cloak over his shoulders, the Captain passed out upon the wharf, took a position behind a pile of wood, and awaited the coming of the negro; nor did he remain long in suspense.
With lighted cigar, dressed in his best apparel, and his eatables tied up in a towel, Charley was soon seen hastily leaving the boat.
Stepping out from his hiding-place, the Captain seized the negro by the collar and led him back to the steamer, exclaiming, “Where are you going, what’s that you’ve got in that bundle?”
“Only some washin’ I is takin’ out to get done,” replied the surprised and frightened negro.
As they reached the lighted deck, “Open that bundle,” said the Captain.
Charley began to obey the command, and at the the same time to give an explanation.
“Shut your mouth, you scoundrel,” vociferously shouted the Captain.
As the man slowly undid the parcel, and the contents began to be seen, “There,” said the Captain, “there’s the pies, cake, sandwiches, bread and butter that Cato told me you had put up to eat while running away. Yes, there’s the pumps, too, that you got to dance in when you reached Canada.”
Here the frightened Charley attempted again to explain, “I was jess gwine to—”
“Shut your mouth, you villain; you were going to escape to Canada.”
“No, Marser Price, afoe God I was only—”
“Shut your mouth, you black rascal; you told me you were taking some clothes to be washed, you lying scamp.”
During this scene, Cato was inside the pantry, with the door ajar, looking out upon his master and Charley with unfeigned satisfaction.
Still holding the negro by the collar, and leading him to the opposite side of the boat, the Captain called to Mr. Roberts, the second mate, to bring up the small boat to take him and the “runaway” over the river.
A few moments more, and the Captain, with Charley seated by his side, was being rowed to Covington, where the negro was safely locked up for the night.
“A little longer,” said the Captain to the second officer, as he returned to the boat, “a little longer and I’d a lost fifteen hundred dollars by that boy’s running away.”
“Indeed,” responded the officer.
“Yes,” continued the Commander, “my servant Cato told me, just in time to catch the rascal in the very act of running off.”
One of the sailors who was rowing, and who had been attentively listening to the Captain, said, “I overheard Cato to-day, trying to persuade Charley to go somewhere with him to-night, and the latter said he was going to a ‘surprise party.’”
“The devil you did,” exclaimed the Captain. “Hasten up there,” continued he, “for these niggers are a slippery set.”
As the yawl came alongside of the steamer, Captain Price leaped on deck and went directly in search of Cato, who could nowhere be found. And even Charley’s bundle, which he left where he had been opening it, was gone. All search for the tricky man was in vain.
On the following morning, Charley was brought back to the boat, saying, as they were crossing the river, “I tole de boss dat Cato was gwine to run away, but he did’nt bleve me. Now he sees Cato’s gone.”
After the Captain had learned all that he could from Charley, the latter’s account of his imprisonment in the lock-up caused great merriment amongst the boat’s crew.
“But I tell you dar was de biggest rats in dat jail, eber I seed in my life. Dey run aroun’ dar an’ make so much fuss dat I was ’fraid to set down or lay down. I had to stan’ up all night.”
TheChesterwas detained until in the latter part of the day, during which time every effort was made to hunt up Cato, but without success.
When upbraided by the black servants on the boat for his treachery to Cato, Charley’s only plea was, “I ’speck it was de debble dat made me do it.”
Dressing himself in his warmest and best clothes, and getting some provisions that he had prepared during the day, and also taking with him Charley’s pies, cakes, sandwiches, and pumps, Cato left the boat and made good his escape before his master returned from Covington.
It was during the cold winter of 1834, that the fugitive travelled by night and laid by in the woods in the day. After a week’s journey, his food gave out, and then came the severest of his trials, cold coupled with hunger.
Often Cato would resolve to go to some of the farm-houses and apply for food and shelter, but the fear of being captured and again returned prevented him from following his inclinations. One night a pelting rain that froze as fast as it fell, drove the fugitive into a barn, where, creeping under the hay, he remained, sleeping sweetly while his garments were drying upon his person.
Sounds of the voices of the farmer and his men feeding the cattle and doing the chores, awakened the man from his slumbers, who, seeing that it was daylight, feared he would be arrested. However, the day passed, and the fugitive coming out at nightfall, started once more on his weary journey, taking for his guide the North Star, and after travelling the entire night, he again lay by, but this time in the forest.
Three days of fasting had now forced hunger upon Cato, so that he once more determined to seek food. Waiting till night, he came upon the highway, and soon approached a farm-house, of the olden style, built of logs. The sweet savor of the supper attracted the hungry man’s attention as he neared the dwelling. For once there was no dog to herald his coming, and he had an opportunity of viewing the interior of the house, through the apertures that a log cabin generally presents.
As the fugitive stood with one eye gazing through thecrack, looking at the table, already set, and snuffing in the delicious odor from a boiling pot, he heard the mother say,—“Take off the chicken, Sally Ann, I guess the dumplings are done. Your father will be home in half an hour; if he should catch that nigger and bring him along, we’ll feed him on the cold meat and potatoes.”
With palpitating heart, Cato listened to the last sentences that fell from the woman’s lips. Who could the “nigger” be, thought he.
Finding only the woman and her daughter in the house, the black man had been debating in his own mind whether or not to go in and demand a part of the contents of the kettle. However, the talk about “catching a nigger,” settled the question at once with him.
Seizing a sheet that hung upon the clothes-line, Cato covered himself with it; leaving open only enough to enable him to see, he rushed in, crying at the top of his voice,—“Come to judgment! Come to judgment.”
Both women sprang from their seats, and, screaming, passed out of the room, upsetting the table as they went. Cato seized the pot of chicken with one hand, and a loaf of bread, that had fallen from the table, with the other; hastily leaving the house and taking to the road, he continued on his journey.
The fugitive, however, had gone but a short distance when he heard the tramp of horses and thevoices of men; and, fearing to meet them, he took to the woods till they had passed by.
As he hid behind a large tree by the roadside, Cato heard distinctly:
“And what is your master’s name?”
“Peter Johnson, ser,” was the reply.
“How much do you think he will give to have you brought back?”
“Dunno, ser,” responded a voice which Cato recognized by the language to be a negro.
It was evident that a fugitive slave had been captured, and was about to be returned for the reward. And it was equally evident to Cato that the slave had been caught by the owner of the pot of stewed chicken that he then held in his hand, and he felt a thrill of gladness as he returned to the road and pursued his journey.
Inthe year 1850, there were fifty thousand free colored people in the slave States, the greater number residing in Louisiana, Maryland, Virginia, Tennessee, and South Carolina. In all the States these people were allowed but few privileges not given to the slaves; and in many their condition was thought to be even worse than that of the bondmen. Laws, the most odious, commonly known as the “Black Code,” were enacted and enforced in everyState. These provided for the punishment of the free colored people—punishment which was not mentioned in the common law for white persons; for binding out minors, a species of slavery, and naming thirty-two offences more for blacks than had been enacted for the whites, and eight of which made it capital punishment for the offences committed.
Public opinion, which is often stronger than law, was severe in the extreme. In many of the Southern cities, including Charleston, S. C., a colored lady, free, and owning the fine house in which she lived, was not allowed to wear a veil in the public streets.
In passing through the thoroughfares, blacks of both sexes were compelled to take the outside, on pain of being kicked into the street, or sent to the lock-up and whipped.
As late as 1858, a movement was made in several of the Southern States to put an exorbitant tax upon them, and in lieu of which they were to be sold into life-long slavery. Maryland led off with a bill being introduced into the Legislature by Mr. Hover, of Frederick County, for levying a tax of two dollars per annum on all colored male inhabitants of the State over twenty-one years of age, and under fifty-five, and of one dollar on every female over eighteen and under forty-five, to be collected by the collectors of the State taxes, anddevoted to the use of the Colonization Society. In case of the refusal to pay of a property-holder or housekeeper, his or her goods were to be seized and sold; if not a property-holder,the body of the non-paying person was to be seized, and hired out to the lowest bidder who would agree to pay the tax; and in case of not being able to hire said delinquents out, they were to be sold to any person who would pay the amount of tax and costs for the lowest period of service!
Tennessee followed in the same strain. The annexed protest of one of her noblest sons,—Judge Catron, appeared at the time. He said:
“My objection to the bill is,that it proposes to commit an outrage, to perpetrate an oppression and cruelty. This is the plain truth, and it is idle to mince words to soften the fact. Let us look the proposition boldly in the face. This depressed and helpless portion of our population is designed to be driven out, or to be enslaved for life, and their property forfeited, as no slave can hold property. The mothers are to be sold, or driven away from their children, many of them infants. The children are to be bound out until they are twenty-one years of age, and then to leave the State or be sold; which means that they are to be made slaves for life, in fact. Now, of these women and children, there is hardly one in ten that is of unmixed negro blood. Some are half-white; many have half-white mothers and white fathers, making a cast of 87 1-2-100ths of white blood; many have a third cross, in whom the negro blood is almost extinct; such is the unfortunate truth. This description of people, who were born free, and lived as free persons, are to be introduced as slaves into our families, or into our negroquarters, there to be under an overseer, or they are to be sold to the negro-trader and sent South, there to be whipped by overseers—and to preach rebellionin the negro quarters—as they willpreachrebellion everywhere that they may be driven to by this unjust law, whether it be amongst us here in Tennessee or south of us on the cotton and sugar plantations, or in the abolition meetings in the free States. Nor will the women be the least effective in preaching a crusade, when begging money in the North, to relieve their children, left behind in this State, in bondage.
“We are told that this ’free-negro bill’ is a politic, popular measure. Where is it popular?In what nook or corner of the State are principles of humanity so deplorably deficient that a majority of the whole inhabitants would commit an outrage not committed in a Christian country of which history gives any account?In what country is it, this side of Africa, that the majority have enslaved the minority, sold the weak to the strong, and applied the proceeds of the sale to educate the children of the stronger side, as this bill proposes? It is an open assertion that ‘might makes right.’ It is re-opening the African slave trade. In that trade the strong capture the weak, and sell them; and so it will be here, if this policy is carried out.”
In some of the States the law was enacted and the people driven out or sold. Those who were able to pay their way out, came away; those who could not raise the means, were doomed to languish in bondage till released by the Rebellion.
About the same time, in Georgia, Florida, and South Carolina, strong efforts were being made to re-open the African slave trade. At the Democratic State Convention, held in the city of Charleston, S. C., May 1, 1860, Mr. Gaulden made the following speech:—
“Mr. President, and Fellow Democrats:—As I stated to you a few moments ago, I have been confined to my room by severe indisposition, but learning of the commotion and the intense excitement which were existing upon the questions before this body, I felt it to be my duty, feeble as I was, to drag myself out to the meeting of my delegation, and when there I was surprised to find a large majority of that delegation voting to secede at once from this body. I disagree with those gentlemen. I regret to disagree with my brethren from the South upon any of the great questions which interest our common country. I am a Southern States’ Rights man; I am an African slave-trader. I believe I am one of those Southern men who believe that slavery is right, morally, religiously, socially, and politically. (Applause.) I believe that the institution of slavery has done more for this country, more for civilization, than all other interests put together. I believe if it were in the power of this country to strike down the institution of slavery, it would put civilization back two hundred years. I tell you, fellow Democrats, that the African slave-trader is the true Union man. (Cheers and laughter.) I tell you that the slave-trading of Virginia is more immoral,more un-Christian in every possible point of view, than that African slave-trade which goes to Africa and brings a heathen and worthless man here, makes him a useful man, Christianizes him, and sends him and his posterity down the stream of time to join in the blessings of civilization. (Cheers and laughter.) Now, fellow-democrats, so far as any public expression of opinion of the State of Virginia—the great slave-trading State of Virginia—has been given, they are all opposed to the African slave-trade.”
Dr. Reed, of Indiana.—I am from Indiana, and I am in favor of it.
Mr. Gaulden.—Now, gentlemen, we are told, upon high authority, that there is a certain class of men who strain at a gnat and swallow a camel. Now, Virginia, which authorizes the buying of Christian men, separating them from their wives and children, from all the relations and associations amid whom they have lived for years, rolls up her eyes in holy horror when I would go to Africa, buy a savage, and introduce him to the blessings of civilization and Christianity. (Cheers and laughter.)
Mr. Rynders, of New York.—You can get one or two recruits from New York to join with you.
The President.—The time of the gentleman has expired. (Cries of “Go on! go on!”)
The President stated that if it was the unanimous wish of the Convention, the gentleman could proceed.
Mr. Gaulden.—Now, fellow Democrats, theslave-trade in Virginia forms a mighty and powerful reason for its opposition to the African slave-trade, and in this remark I do not intend any disrespect to my friends from Virginia. Virginia, the Mother of States and of statesmen, the Mother of Presidents, I apprehend, may err as well as other mortals. I am afraid that her error in this regard lies in the promptings of the almighty dollar. It has been my fortune to go into that noble old State to buy a few darkies, and I have had to pay from one thousand to two thousand dollars a head, when I could go to Africa and buy better negroes for fifty dollars a-piece. (Great laughter.) Now, unquestionably, it is to the interests of Virginia to break down the African slave-trade when she can sell her negroes at two thousand dollars. She knows that the African slave-trade would break up her monopoly, and hence her objection to it. If any of you Northern Democrats—for I have more faith in you than I have in the Carpet Knight Democracy of the South—will go home with me to my plantation in Georgia, but a little way from here, I will show you some darkies that I bought in Maryland, some that I bought in Virginia, some in Delaware, some in Florida, some in North Carolina, and I will also show you the pure African, the noblest Roman of them all. (Great laughter.) Now, fellow Democrats, my feeble health and failing voice admonish me to bring the few remarks I have to make to a close. (Cries of “Go on! go on!”) I am only sorry that I am not in a better condition than I am tovindicate before you to-day the words of truth, of honesty, and of right, and to show you the gross inconsistencies of the South in this regard. I came from the First Congressional District of the State of Georgia. I represent the African slave-trade interests of that section. (Applause.) I am proud of the position I occupy in that respect. I believe that the African slave-trader is a true missionary, and a true Christian. (Applause.)
Such was the feeling in a large part of the South, with regard to the enslavement of the negro.
Thesuccess of the slave-holders in controlling the affairs of the National Government for a long series of years, furnishing a large majority of the Presidents, Speakers of the House of Representatives, Foreign Ministers, and moulding the entire policy of the nation in favor of slave-holding, and the admitted fact that none could secure an office in the national Government who were known to be opposed to thepeculiarinstitution, made the Southerners feel themselves superior to the people of the free States. This feeling was often manifested by an outburst of intemperate language, which frequently showed itself in the pulpit, on the rostrum, and in the drawing-room. On all such occasions the placingof the institution of slavery above liberty, seemed to be the aim of its advocates.
“The principle of slavery is in itself right, anddoes not depend on difference of complexion,”—said the Richmond (Va.)Enquirer.
A distinguished Southern statesman exclaimed,—
“Make the laboring man the slave ofoneman, instead of the slave of society, and he would be far better off.” “Slavery,black or white, is right and necessary.” “Nature has made the weak in mind or body for slaves.”
Another said:—
“Freesociety! We sicken of the name. What is it but a conglomeration ofgreasy mechanics,filthy operators,small-fisted farmers, and moonstruck theorists? All the Northern States, and especially the New England States, aredevoid of society fitted for well-bred gentlemen. The prevailing class one meets with is that of mechanics struggling to be genteel, and small farmers, who do their own drudgery; and yet who are hardly fit for association with a gentleman’s body servant [slave]. This is your free society.”
The insults offered to John P. Hale and Charles Sumner in the United States Senate, and to Joshua R. Giddings and Owen Lovejoy in the House of Representatives, were such as no legislative body in the world would have allowed, except one controlled by slave-drivers. I give the following, which may be taken as a fair specimen of thebulldozingof those days.
In the National House of Representatives Hon. O. Lovejoy, member from Illinois, was speaking against the further extension of slavery in the territories, when he was interrupted by Mr. Barksdale, of Mississippi—
“Order that black-hearted scoundrel and nigger-stealing thief to take his seat.”
By Mr. Boyce, of South Carolina, addressing Mr. Lovejoy—
“Then behave yourself.”
By Mr. Gartrell, of Georgia, (in his seat)—
“The man is crazy.”
By Mr. Barksdale, of Mississippi, again—
“No, sir; you stand there to-day, an infamous, perjured villain.”
By Mr. Ashmore, of South Carolina—
“Yes; he is a perjured villain, and he perjures himself every hour he occupies a seat on this floor.”
By Mr. Singleton, of Mississippi—
“And a negro thief into the bargain.”
By Mr. Barksdale, of Mississippi, again—
“I hope my colleague will hold no parley with that perjured negro thief.”
By Mr. Singleton, of Mississippi, again—
“No sir; any gentleman shall have time, but not such a mean, despicable wretch as that.”
By Mr. Martin, of Virginia—
“And if you come among us, we will do with you as we did with John Brown—hang you as high as Haman. I say that as a Virginian.”
Hon. Robert Toombs, of Georgia, made a violentspeech in the Senate, January, 1860, in which he said:—
“Never permit this Federal Government to pass into the traitorous hands of the Black Republican party.It has already declared war against you and your institutions. It every day commits acts of war against you; it has already compelled you to arm for your defence. Listen to ‘no vain babblings,’ to no treacherous jargon about ‘overt acts;’ they have already been committed. Defend yourselves; the enemy is at your door; wait not to meet him at the hearthstone,—meet him at the door-sill, and drive him from the temple of liberty, or pull down its pillars and involve him in a common ruin.”
Such and similar sentiments expressed at the South, and even by Southerners when sojourning in the free States, did much to widen the breach, and to bring on the conflict of arms that soon followed.
Thenight was dark, the rain descended in torrents from the black and overhanging clouds, and the thunder, accompanied with vivid flashes of lightning, resounded fearfully, as I entered a negro cabin in South Carolina. The room was filled with blacks, a group of whom surrounded a rough board table, and at it sat an old man holding in his hand awatch, at which all were intently gazing. A stout negro boy held a torch which lighted up the cabin, and near him stood a Yankee soldier, in the Union blue, reading the President’s Proclamation of Freedom.
As it neared the hour of twelve, a dead silence prevailed, and the holder of the time-piece said,—“By de time I counts ten, it will be midnight an’ de lan’ will be free. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine,—” just then a loud strain of music came from the banjo, hanging upon the wall, and at its sound the whole company, as if by previous arrangement, threw themselves upon their knees, and the old man exclaimed,—“O, God, de watch was a minit’ too slow, but dy promises an’ dy mercy is allers in time; dou did promise dat one of dy angels should come an’ give us de sign, an’ shore ’nuff de sign did come. We’s grateful, O, we’s grateful, O, Lord, send dy angel once moe to give dat sweet sound.”
At this point another strain from the banjo was heard, and a sharp flash of lightning was followed by a clap of thunder, such as is only heard in the tropics. The negroes simultaneously rose to their feet and began singing; finishing only one verse, they all fell on their knees, and Uncle Ben, the old white-haired man, again led in prayer, and such a prayer as but few outside of this injured race could have given. Rising to their feet, the leader commenced singing:—
“Oh! breth-er-en, my way, my way’s cloudy, my way,Go send dem angels down.Oh! breth-er-en, my way, my way’s cloudy, my way,Go send dem angels down.There’s fire in de east an’ fire in de west,Send dem angels down.An’ fire among de Methodist,O, send dem angels down.Ole Sa-tan’s mad, an’ I am glad,Send dem angels down.He missed the soul he thought he had,O, send dem angels down.I’ll tell you now as I tole afore,Send dem angels down.To de promised lan’ I’m bound to go,O, send dem angels down.Dis is de year of Jubilee,Send dem angels down.De Lord has come to set us free,O, send dem angels down.”
“Oh! breth-er-en, my way, my way’s cloudy, my way,Go send dem angels down.Oh! breth-er-en, my way, my way’s cloudy, my way,Go send dem angels down.There’s fire in de east an’ fire in de west,Send dem angels down.An’ fire among de Methodist,O, send dem angels down.Ole Sa-tan’s mad, an’ I am glad,Send dem angels down.He missed the soul he thought he had,O, send dem angels down.I’ll tell you now as I tole afore,Send dem angels down.To de promised lan’ I’m bound to go,O, send dem angels down.Dis is de year of Jubilee,Send dem angels down.De Lord has come to set us free,O, send dem angels down.”
One more short prayer from Uncle Ben, and they arose, clasped each other around the neck, kissed, and commenced shouting, “Glory to God, we’s free.”
Another sweet strain from the musical instrument was followed by breathless silence, and then Uncle Ben said, “De angels of de Lord is wid us still, an’ dey is watching ober us, fer ole Sandy tole us moe dan a mont ago dat dey would.”
I was satisfied when the first musical strain came, that it was merely a vibration of the strings, caused by the rushing wind through the aperture between the logs behind the banjo. Fearing that the blackswould ascribe the music to some mysterious Providence, I plainly told them of the cause.
“Oh, no ser,” said Uncle Ben, quickly, his eyes brightening as he spoke, “dat come fum de angels. We been specken it all de time. We know the angels struck the strings of de banjo.”
The news of the music from the instrument without the touch of human hands soon spread through the entire neighborhood, and in a short time the cabin was jammed with visitors, who at once turned their attention to the banjo upon the wall.
All sorts of stories were soon introduced to prove that angelic visits were common, especially to those who were fortunate enough to carry “de witness.”
“De speret of de Lord come to me lass night in my sleep an’ tole me dat I were gwine to be free, an’ sed dat de Lord would sen’ one of His angels down to give me de warnin’. An’ when de banjo sounded, I knowed dat my bressed Marster were a’ keepin’ His word,” said Uncle Ben.
An elderly woman amongst the visitors, drew a long breath, and declared that she had been lifted out of her bed three times on the previous night; “I knowed,” she continued, “dat de angelic hoss was hoverin’ round about us.”
“I dropped a fork to-day,” said another, “an’ it stuck up in de floo’, right afore my face, an’ dat is allers good luck fer me.”
“De mule kicked at me three times dis mornin’ an’ he never did dat afore in his life,” said another, “an’ I knowed good luck would come fum dat.”
“A rabbit run across my path twice as I come fum de branch lass Saturday, an’ I felt shor’ dat somethin’ mighty was gwine to happen,” remarked Uncle Ben’s wife.
“I had a sign that showed me plainly that all of you would be free,” said the Yankee soldier, who had been silent since reading the proclamation. All eyes were instantly turned to the white man from the North, and half a dozen voices cried out simultaneously, “O, Mr. Solger, what was it? what was it? what was it?”
“Well,” said the man in blue, “I saw something on a large white sheet—”
“Was it a goos?” cried Uncle Ben, before the sentence was finished by the soldier. Uncle Ben’s question about a ghost, started quite a number to their feet, and many trembled as they looked each other in the face, and upon the soldier, who appeared to feel the importance of his position.
Ned, the boy who was holding the torch, began to tell a ghost story, but he was at once stopped by Uncle Ben, who said, “Shet your mouf, don’t you see de gentmun ain’t told us what he see in de ‘white sheet?’”
“Well,” commenced the soldier, again, “I saw on a large sheet of paper, a printed Proclamation from President Lincoln, like the one I’ve just read, and that satisfied me that you’d all be free to-day.”
Every one was disappointed at this, for all were prepared for a ghost story, from the first remark about the “white sheet” of paper. Uncle Bensmiled, looked a little wise, and said, “I speck dat’s a Yankee trick you’s given us, Mr. Solger.”
The laugh of the man in blue was only stopped by Uncle Ben’s striking up the following hymn, in which the whole company joined:—
“A storm am brewin’ in de Souf,A storm am brewin’ now.Oh! hearken den, and shut your mouf,And I will tell you how:And I will tell you how, ole boy,De storm of fire will pour,And make de black folks sing for joy,As dey neber sing afore.“So shut your mouf as close as deafh,And all you niggas hole your breafh,And do de white folks brown!“De black folks at de Norf am ris,And dey am comin’ down—And comin’ down, I know dey is,To do de white folks brown!Dey’ll turn ole Massa out to grass,And set de niggas free,And when dat day am come to passWe’ll all be dar to see!“So shut your mouf as close as deafh,And all you niggas hole your breafh,And I will tell you how.“Den all de week will be as gayAs am de Chris’mas time;We’ll dance all night and all de day,And make de banjo chime,And make de banjo chime, I tink,And pass de time away,Wid ’nuf to eat and ’nuf to drink,And not a bit to pay!“So shut your mouf as close as deafh,And all you niggas hole your breafh,And make de banjo chime.”
“A storm am brewin’ in de Souf,A storm am brewin’ now.Oh! hearken den, and shut your mouf,And I will tell you how:And I will tell you how, ole boy,De storm of fire will pour,And make de black folks sing for joy,As dey neber sing afore.
“So shut your mouf as close as deafh,And all you niggas hole your breafh,And do de white folks brown!
“De black folks at de Norf am ris,And dey am comin’ down—And comin’ down, I know dey is,To do de white folks brown!Dey’ll turn ole Massa out to grass,And set de niggas free,And when dat day am come to passWe’ll all be dar to see!
“So shut your mouf as close as deafh,And all you niggas hole your breafh,And I will tell you how.
“Den all de week will be as gayAs am de Chris’mas time;We’ll dance all night and all de day,And make de banjo chime,And make de banjo chime, I tink,And pass de time away,Wid ’nuf to eat and ’nuf to drink,And not a bit to pay!
“So shut your mouf as close as deafh,And all you niggas hole your breafh,And make de banjo chime.”
However, there was in this company, a man some forty years old, who, like a large number of the slaves, had been separated in early life from his relatives, and was now following in the wake of the Union army, hoping to meet some of those dear ones.
This was Mark Myers. At the age of twenty he fled from Winchester, Va., and although pursued by bloodhounds, succeeded in making good his escape. The pursuers returned and reported that Mark had been killed. This story was believed by all.
Now the war had opened the way, Mark had come from Michigan, as a servant for one of the officers; Mark followed the army to Harper’s Ferry, and then went up to Winchester. Twenty years had caused a vast change, and although born and brought up there, he found but few that could tell him anything about the old inhabitants.
“Go to an ole cabin at de edge of de town, an’ darh you’ll find ole Unkel Bob Smart, an’ he know ebbrybody, man an boy, dat’s lived here for fortyyears,” said an old woman of whom he inquired. With haste Mark proceeded to the “ole cabin,” and there he found “Unkel Bob.”
“Yer say yer name is Mark Myers, an’ yer mamma’s name is Nancy,” responded the old man to the inquiries put to him by Mark.
“Yes,” was the reply.
“Well, sonney,” continued Uncle Bob, “de Myers niggers was all sold to de traders ’bout de beginnin’ ov de war, septin some ov de ole ones dat dey couldn’t sell, an’ I specks yer mamma is one ov dem dat de traders didn’t want. Now, sonney, yer go over to de Redman place, an’ it ’pers to me dat de oman yer’s lookin’ fer is over darh.”
Thanking Uncle Bob, Mark started for the farm designated by the old man. Arriving there, he was told that “Aunt Nancy lived over yarnder on de wess road.” Proceeding to the low log hut, he entered, and found the woman.
“Is this Aunt Nancy Myers?”
“Yes, sar, dis is me.”
“Had you a son named Mark?”
“Yes, dat I did, an’ a good boy he were, poor feller.” And here the old woman wiped the tears away with the corner of her apron.
“I have come to bring you some good news about him.”
“Good news ’bout who?” eagerly asked the woman.
“Good news about your son Mark.”
“Oh! no; you can’t bring me no good news ’bout my son, septin you bring it from hebben, fer I feelsartin dat he is darh, fer he suffered nuff when de dogs killed him, to go to hebben.”
Mark had already recognized his mother, and being unable to longer conceal the fact, he seized her by the hand and said:
“Mother, don’t you know me? I am your long-lost son Mark.”
Amazed at the sudden news, the woman trembled like a leaf, the tears flowed freely, and she said:
“My son, Mark, had a deep gash across the bottom of his left foot, dat he will take wid him to his grave. Ef you is my son, show me de mark.”
As quick almost as thought, Mark pulled off his boot, threw himself on the floor and held up the foot. The old woman wiped her glasses, put them on, saw the mark of the deep gash; then she fainted, and fell at her son’s side.
Neighbors flocked in from the surrounding huts, and soon the cabin was filled with an eager crowd, who stood in breathless silence to catch every word that should be spoken. As the old woman revived, and opened her eyes, she tremblingly said:
“My son, it is you.”
“Yes, mother,” responded the son, “it is me. When I ran away, old master put the dogs upon my track, but I jumped into the creek, waded down for some distance, and by that means the dogs lost the scent, and I escaped from them.”
“Well,” said the old woman, “in my prayers I axed God to permit me to meet you in hebben, an’He promised me I should; but He’s bin better den His promise.”
“Now, mother, I have a home for you at the North, and I have come to take you to it.”
The few goods worth bringing away from the slave hut were soon packed up, and ere the darkness had covered the land, mother and son were on their way to the North.
Duringthe Rebellion and at its close, there was one question that appeared to overshadow all others; this was Negro Equality. While the armies were on the field of battle, this was the great bugbear among many who warmly espoused the cause of the Government, and who approved all its measures, with this single exception. They sincerely wished the rebels to be despoiled of their property. They wished every means to be used to secure our success on the field, including Emancipation. But they would grow pale at the words Negro Equality; just as if the liberating of a race, and securing to them personal, political, social and religious rights, made it incumbent upon us to take these people into our houses, and give them seats in our social circle, beyond what we would accord to other total strangers. No advocate of Negro Equality ever demanded for the race that they should be made pets. Protectthem in their natural, lawful, and acquired rights, is all they ask.
Social equality is a condition of society that must make itself. There are colored families residing in every Southern State, whose education and social position is far above a large portion of their neighboring whites. To compel them to associate with these whites would be a grievous wrong. Then, away with this talk, which is founded in hatred to an injured people. Give the colored race in the South equal protection before the law, and then we say to them—
“Now, to gain the social prize,Paddle your own canoe.”
“Now, to gain the social prize,Paddle your own canoe.”
But this hue and cry about Negro Equality generally emanates from a shoddy aristocracy, or an uneducated class, more afraid of the negro’s ability and industry than of his color rubbing off against them,—men whose claims to equality are so frail that they must be fenced about, and protected by every possible guard; while the true nobleman fears not that his reputation will be compromised by any association he may choose to form. So it is with many of those men who fear negro competition. Conscious of their own inferiority to the mass of mankind, and recognizing the fact that they exist and thrive only by the aid of adventitious advantages, they look with jealousy on any new rivals and competitors, and use every means, fair and unfair, to keep them out of the market.
The same sort of opposition has been made to the introduction of female labor into any of the various branches of manufacture. Consequently, women have always been discriminated against. They have been restricted to a small range of employments; their wages have been kept down; and many who would be perfectly competent to perform the duties of clerks or accountants, or to earn good wages in some branch of manufacture, have been driven by their necessities either to suicide or prostitution.
But the nation, knowing the Southerners as they did, aware of the deep hatred to Northern whites, and still deeper hatred to their ex-slaves, who aided in blotting out the institution of slavery, it was the duty of the nation, having once clothed the colored man with the rights of citizenship and promised him in the Constitution full protection for those rights, to keep this promise most sacredly. The question, while it is invested with equities of the most sacred character, is not without its difficulties and embarrassments. Under the policy adopted by the Democrats in the late insurrectionary States, the colored citizen has been subjected to a reign of terror which has driven him from the enjoyment of his rights and leaves him as much a nonenity in politics, unless he obeys their behests, as he was when he was in slavery. Under this condition of things to-day, while he if properly protected in his rights would hold political supremacy in Mississippi, Georgia, South Carolina, Louisiana, Alabama, andFlorida, he has little or no voice in either State or National Government.
Through fear, intimidation, assassination, and all the horrors that barbarism can invent, every right of the negro in the Southern States is to-day at an end. Complete submission to the whites is the only way for the colored man to live in peace.