CHAPTER VII.
LIBERATED.
After Octavia's restoration to health she looked prettier than ever. Her beauty and intelligence were proverbial, and drew spectators from many miles away. There was so much said about the matter that Elsie's mistress made a special visit to see the child, who was now between four and five years old. Whether she "smelled a mouse" or not is not known, but certain it is that she entered into negotiations with a party in the adjoining county to sell Elsie and child to him. He first hesitated, fearing that the negro's mistress did not have the legal right to sell them. He consulted an attorney, and found that anything of the kind done by Colonel R.'s wife in his absence would stand good in law. With this advice he bought Elsie and Octavia. Simon heard of this and was hurt by it very much. Still, they were not very far off, and that was much better than if they had been sent out of the State. Her new owner, however, did not own her long, as we shall see.
We have now arrived at that period when there was great consternation and despair on the part of the white people of the country. It was reported far and near that Gen. Wilson, one of the Union generals, was making a raid through central Alabama with a large army. Simon heard of this and knew that he would soon be liberated from prison. He had, however, hidden Colonel R.'s cotton where he was sure it could not be found. The report about General Wilson's raid proved to be true, as a detachment went through the town where Simon was confined, and turned all the prisoners out. Simon hastened home, and the first person he saw was Henry, who fled on sight, fearing that Simon would do him harm for turning State's evidence against him. A detachment of the army went through the county that Elsie was carried to, taking all the stock and negro men with them. Knowing that Simon had been liberated and was at home, she and Octavia left immediately to join him, and arrived about sunset the following day. This was a happy meeting between the three. Elsie had had no opportunity to have private conversation with him since she was brought back by the Confederate soldiers, when they started on the "Underground Railway" for freedom. Consequently she had much to tell him about that trip, and of her brief sojourn in the adjoining county. They conversed far into the night, and finally went to sleep wondering what would be next on the docket. They didn't have to wonder long, as by some means never known Henry had found out about Colonel R. intrusting a large amount of gold with Simon, and when he fled at Simon's appearance, he went immediately to the Federal General's headquarters and reported this fact.
Henry thought there might be dollars in his pocket by giving this news. He gave a detailed account of the matter, telling about Simon being a "nigger driver," having a pack of "nigger dogs," and being heartless and cruel to the hands on the place. He endeavored to incense the commander as much as possible against Simon. The General sent a captain with a company of soldiers to see if there was anything in Henry's report. On the way Henry urged the captain to hang Simon. Of course he wanted this done as a protection to himself, as he well knew that Simon would handle him roughly if he got his hands on him, because he, Henry, had given him away.
On arriving at the plantation Simon was immediately arrested and asked where the gold was. Simon said he once knew, but didn't then, which was true, as his former mistress had had it moved. Henry shouted that "Simon was lying." The captain informed him that he had orders to hang him if he did not divulge the whereabouts of the gold. He still protested that he knew nothing about it then. The captain ordered him tied, amid the screams of Elsie and Octavia. Simon then tried to reason with the captain, telling him of harboring the Union spy and the escaped soldier; of his planning the escape of Elsie, Octavia, Jim and Jack; of Henry's refusal to go, and that he was the one that ought to be hung. Henry hollered out, "He's a liar; I wanted to go and he wouldn't let me." The captain said he had to execute his orders, and ordered Simon taken to the nearest tree, when Octavia, giving a loud scream, fell on her knees before the captain (who reined his horse up), exclaiming, "Oh, Mister Taptain, pease don't hang Uncle Simon; he ain't done nothin'!"
The captain thought he had never seen a lovelier object in his life, and his heart, that had probably been hardened by a four years' war, was touched. That beautiful, kneeling child, with streaming locks and eyes of heavenly blue, and cheeks like a ripe peach, was enough to melt a heart of stone. He dismounted and gathered the child in his arms, caressing and kissing her, saying that she was exactly like his little Octavia at home. He drew a picture from his pocket of his child, and it proved to be the image of this child. He told Octavia that he would release her uncle. She showed her appreciation by caressing the captain, who ordered all the stock on the place, with negro men on them, to be carried off. Whether they really intended to hang Simon is not known, but certain it is that several slaveholders were hung about that time to extort from them the whereabouts of hidden treasure. This was done by the ex-slaves, probably mostly for revenge. But it is to the honor of the Union soldiers that they did not countenance any such action, and in some instances rescued the parties from a probable death. This revenge was to be expected, as most any race, after being in bondage a hundred years or more, if left to themselves and had the power, would do the same.
There was great lamentation on the part of the negro men's wives when their husbands left. Simon, Elsie and Octavia were the only composed ones on the place. Simon assured them that all of them would soon be back.
After this wholesale foraging of negroes and stock, things indeed looked desolate. The crop had been planted, good stands obtained; it had been worked once and was very promising. But under the present status of affairs it was out of the question to try and work it. Simon and Elsie, however, did not despair. Both had been raised to work, knew how, and could do so again. The oxen on the plantation had been unmolested, a yoke of which were pressed into service, Simon doing the plowing and Elsie the hoeing. In a few days the negroes who had been carried off began to come in, until about all had returned. Simon advised each to harness up the oxen on the place and plow them, and to break to the plow a drove of half-grown mules and horse colts that were on the place. By this means probably half of the farm could be plowed and cultivated. Simon told each man that under the changed order of things it was "every fellow for himself, even if the devil got the hindmost." It was only a question of a short time now when the Confederacy would collapse, as Johnson was fleeing before Sherman in the Carolinas, and Lee, having evacuated Richmond, was hard pressed by Grant. Every State had been invaded, and in a few weeks the Confederate Government would fall to pieces and the soldiers return home, Colonel R. among the number, and he could then take charge of the plantation himself and make any change he saw fit.
Simon was satisfied, however, that this dividing up of the hands in squads would meet with the approbation of Colonel R., who would probably be a month later coming home than the other soldiers, as he was in prison in the far North when the Southern armies surrendered.
Before going to work under the new regime Simon made a visit to Colonel R.'s cotton and found it all O.K. He and Elsie then went to battle against "General Green," who had begun his depredations on the growing crop by this temporary cessation of hostilities against him. The crop was half made when Colonel R. made his appearance on his place. He expressed himself as well pleased in the way each hand was making use of what facilities the military cyclone had left in its path, and for them to carry things on as they were then doing, and when the crop was gathered he would give them a liberal share of it. The harvest proved to be a bountiful one, and the negroes were greatly elated at the success of this their first attempt to farm without an overseer or foreman. Colonel R. had a private interview with Simon, when both went to inspect the cotton that Simon had been intrusted with. They found it intact and in a good state of preservation. Simon then and there made a full confession of his share in the attempted escape of Elsie and child, of his apprehension and imprisonment, of his letter to him and its return, of his letter to his mistress advising her of the gold, and that it would be best to move it, etc.
The Colonel replied that he would have liberated Elsie and the child anyway, and didn't much blame him in trying to effect their escape, and that the only blame he attached to it was the sending off with the party Jack and Jim. However, he was satisfied with Simon's stewardship, and would now proceed to count him out the ten thousand dollars in gold which he had promised him, and that he would engage him as superintendent on his farm for the ensuing year at a salary of two thousand dollars per annum, thus literally carrying out their compact. It is needless to say that Simon hired a substitute to plow the oxen.
They returned to the farm, had all the ex-slaves assembled, when the Colonel made them a nice, short speech, commending them for their faithfulness during his absence in the army; that the Confederacy had been beaten, the war was over, and that they were free men, women and children; that whosoever may have been responsible for slavery in the United States, that whether it was right or wrong, the South had resorted to the arbitrament of arms, and as a result they were free, and that next year he would contract with any or all who wanted to farm on his place, under the superintendency of Simon. During this talk he had gotten a good look at Octavia, not knowing whose child it was, called Simon aside, and asked whose it was; that it was a beautiful child, and looked as if it were pure white. Simon then said that it was a delicate subject, but that as he had asked for information, he would give it to him. The child was Elsie's, and she says that he, the Colonel, is its father. He then admitted to Simon that it was so, and that, while at home on furlough at one time during the war, he so far transgressed the laws of virtue, as to have an innocent, illegitimate child brought into existence. He also said that Elsie was not so much to blame as he, and that he was ashamed of his conduct, all of which was in the past, and could not be undone, and that he would atone, as far as possible, for his transgression, give Octavia the best education, in every branch, that time, money and labor would procure, and that, at his death, he would remember Octavia in his will, all of which was scrupulously carried out. The only conditions imposed were that the child be given to Simon, who would be her trustee or agent, in carrying all these things out, which had to be done secretly.
CHAPTER VIII.
COTTON PROWLING—EMPLOYING OCTAVIA'S GOVERNESS.
Not long after the Southern soldiers came home, they began a wholesale prowling of government cotton, and in some instances, private cotton was stolen. The status of this government cotton was as follows: The Confederate government issued bonds, with a liberal rate of interest, exchanging them with the planters for their cotton, and in this way, a large amount had been acquired, half of which probably was still in warehouses and gin houses throughout the Southern States. Of course, this property, on the collapse of the Confederacy, by all moral and legal right, became the property of the United States government.
When the soldiers came home, they were without money, clothes, and in many instances, without anything to eat, especially if their homes were in the path of either army.
They claimed that they were violating no law of God or man in taking this cotton. However, the pulpits in the country came out strongly against this practice, saying that if it was wrong to take private cotton, it was as much so to take public cotton; that the latter was nothing more nor less than wholesale theft. By some means, the whereabouts of Colonel R.'s cotton was found out, and it was whispered around, that it was government cotton. I would say here that Colonel R. had made a liberal donation of cotton to his government for bonds, but that every bale had been delivered and carried off. A raid was projected on this cotton on a certain night, but when they got there they found it guarded, Colonel R. and Simon having slept there since this cotton-prowling began. The leader of the raid claimed that it was government cotton, and that the raiders were going to have it. Colonel R. protested that it was not government cotton, but his own private property, and that if they got it they would have to do so over his dead body, and that he had help and was well armed. The night was dark, and fearing that it might be well guarded, and not knowing how many they had to oppose, the raiders decided that "discretion was the better part of valor," and left without molesting the cotton.
Colonel R. immediately hired every wagon and team, hauled the cotton to the river, shipped it to New Orleans by the first boat, and realized fifty cents per pound in gold for it, and as there were about one thousand bales, the reader can calculate, at five hundred pounds per bale, what a nice fortune the Colonel had, all of which had much to do with Octavia's future career.
While to all appearances Octavia was as white as the whitest, she had African blood coursing through her veins, which would debar her from Southern society. Social laws on this point were as rigid and unchangeable as the laws of the Medes and Persians.
Octavia was now about five years of age, most too young to begin school, but the Colonel determined at once to hire a governess for her. Consequently he advertised in one of the foremost Northern dailies for one. He was not long in receiving answers to his "ad." One reply, from the interior of New York State, pleased him more than any of the others, the lady giving as reference one of his former colleagues in Congress. Several letters passed between the two, he telling her that if she accepted she would have to teach the niece of his ex-slave foreman, both of whom, however, were more white than black, and would pass as white where they were not known. By teaching in this family she would be socially ostracized by the white people of the country, and that hers would be a life of seclusion. But if she would accept and make the sacrifice he would make the liberal offer of fifteen hundred dollars per annum, she and Octavia to spend three months anywhere North in each year, the governess to teach her the nine scholastic months at Octavia's home. The Colonel gave her a description of Octavia, telling her that she would have an exceptionally bright and beautiful child to teach. Her board in Simon's family would cost her nothing, and all her hotel and traveling expenses would be paid by Colonel R. during each vacation, this contract to hold good as long as both parties were satisfied. The lady hesitated quite awhile, thinking it would be too great a sacrifice to be socially ostracized by her own race. But this was such an exceptionally good offer, and as she could break the contract after the first nine months, if she wished, she wrote Colonel R. a letter of acceptance. She at once made preparations to leave and was soon on her way South. She found a nice family and a most interesting child. We will have a good deal to do with the governess, and will call her Miss Mildred. She began her duties at once, and of course all of Octavia's studies were primary. Governess and pupil at once fell in love with each other, which ripened as the years went by. It was clearly a case of love at first sight. Octavia proved to be an apt scholar, and was soon ready to go in a higher grade. It was wonderful with what avidity one so young could grasp, comprehend and commit the lessons given her by Miss Mildred.
The governess was making splendid progress with her charge, when there was an occurrence which came near causing her to throw up her contract and return North.
At this time there were in the Southern States what was known as the "Ku-Klux-Klan," a secret organization, somewhat similar probably to the "White Caps." They could have been called "white" also, as they always had on a mask and long white gown, their horses also being covered with the same material to escape detection.
This order raided towns and certain sections of the country at night, but no one ever heard of any damage being done by them except what will now be related: One dark night there came to Simon's home probably twenty of these hideous-looking creatures, and called Simon out and demanded Octavia of him. He wanted to know why, when the leader of these ghosts told him that Mrs. ——, living in the town of ——, fifteen miles away, had had her little five-year-old girl Octavia stolen from her, and must have it; that the present laws of the country were inadequate to protect the people, and that the "Ku-Klux-Klan" was a law and order league, and attended to all cases such as child stealing, wife beaters, hog thieves, etc., and that he, Simon, nor his family, would not be molested unless they resisted their taking Octavia. Half a dozen of them dismounted and went into the house, almost frightening the women and Octavia out of their lives. They took Octavia out of the house amid the screams of Elsie and Miss Mildred. Simon was detained outside at the point of a pistol. They mounted, one taking Octavia in front of him, telling her she could return on the morrow if she was not the right child. They went off in full gallop and were soon out of sight. Simon heard them tell his niece that she could return on the morrow if she was not the right one. He went in to tell his sister of this and then to get his horse, which he had recently bought, to follow them. He found Elsie in a convulsion and Miss Mildred so wrought up with fright that she was not far from it. Consequently it was out of the question to leave them. He could get no one else there, every negro being as badly frightened, at the strange, weird sight they had seen that night. Wishing, hoping, praying that no harm would befall Octavia, he set about to do what he could for the grief-stricken and frightened governess and his unconscious sister. By repeated assurances to Miss Mildred that all would be well with Octavia, he in a great measure got her quieted. They then went to work on Elsie, who was unconscious and of course not able to talk. They worked with her the night through, and as the sun was rising she regained consciousness, and Simon was endeavoring to assure her of the safety of Octavia, telling what he heard the leader of the gang tell her, and that he would get his horse and leave immediately and go for Octavia, when there was a knock at the door, and on opening it there stood Octavia, who ran into her mother's arms and was caressed and kissed again and again by all. Of course their joy and happiness knew no bounds, especially Elsie, who began alternately to cry and laugh and couldn't stop. This alarmed them as they did not know what to do. Octavia had returned, and it seemed that last night's experience with her would be repeated. However, it soon wore off, and she was well of the hysterics. "Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." We will let the negro who brought Octavia make explanation in his own way. Said he to Simon: "Ole Miss axed me to bring dis purty little gal back to yu. She is bery sorry, 'deed, dat dem 'jutty Klux' fetched yu little gal tu her; dat she look like her gal sum, but she ain't de wun. She say akcept her 'poligies, an' she hope Mr. Simon won't tink ennyways hard ob her." Simon thanked the negro for bringing Octavia back, and asked him to tell his "Ole Miss" that he didn't blame her in any way, at the same time putting a ten-dollar gold piece in the negro's hands. The negro bowed and scraped all over the yard and bade them adieu.
It leaked out that Henry, Simon's quondam enemy, told some of the clan that Simon and his sister had a white girl named Octavia which they had stolen from Mrs. —— at ——. This lady's stolen daughter was named Octavia, and the Ku-Klux took it for granted that this was the stolen child. Henry had told a half truth—the girl at Simon's was named Octavia and was about five years old, but that she was Mrs. ——'s child was a willful lie, and he knew it. A half truth is as bad as a whole lie. Simon threatened vengeance against him. Simon wanted to prosecute the mob, but could get no evidence as to who a single member was.
CHAPTER IX.
PROGRESS IN STUDIES.
After this experience Miss Mildred told Simon that she could not live in any such a country, and that she would have to throw up her contract and go back North. She said that with a little forethought she might have known this, as everything was unsettled after such a war that had been ended but a few months. She had no objection to a single member of his family, and she had a high regard for him, and really loved Elsie and Octavia.
He then asked her to reconsider the matter, as he would move to the city of M., then and since a flourishing town. There they could have police protection, which was not available in the country. She said she would think over the matter and decide in a day or so. Simon immediately wrote to Colonel R. that he would have to throw up his contract as superintendent, telling him the reason why. The Colonel replied that he was loath to give him up, but under the circumstances he would have to do so.
After getting the Colonel's letter Miss Mildred agreed to remain if there was an immediate removal. Simon said all the time he asked was to go to the city and buy a house and lot, which he did, and the family was soon installed in their new home.
Simon now put the gold which Colonel R. had given him for his faithfulness to good use. He, in addition to his dwelling, bought a storehouse on one of the principal business streets, and put a large stock of goods in it. He proved to be as successful a merchant as he was a farmer. He was soon doing a large business, having to employ a bookkeeper and a large number of clerks.
Soon after Simon left Colonel R. had a good opportunity to sell his plantation to good advantage, which he did, getting cash for it.
This, with his cotton money, made a handsome fortune, which he judiciously invested in stocks, bonds, etc.
In his new home Simon prospered, and knew that here he would have protection when the shades of night drew her curtain around them.
Octavia's life from now on was what would be incident to the life of any school-girl under a governess from six years old until sixteen, when she graduated. She had no hairbreadth escapes as in the past. She advanced rapidly in her studies, Miss Mildred having no trouble at all with her. She always recited perfect lessons—in a word, was as near perfect as mortal could be. She accompanied Miss Mildred North on her vacation trips, which were generally spent at Saratoga Springs. Octavia always had a bountiful supply of money, which her uncle gave her, and consequently wanted for nothing. It is well to say here that a check from Colonel R. was always on hand for such purposes.
When Octavia was eight years old Colonel R. sent her an eight-hundred-dollar piano. At ten years of age he sent the following fine instruments: Organ, guitar, violin and harp, together with a good supply of art material. He was simply fulfilling his purpose to give her a finished education, and no girl was considered "finished" who was not well grounded in music and art. Octavia thought her uncle was giving her all these musical instruments and art material. She never knew until in after years who was the real donor. Simon was indeed a faithful agent and trustee.
Miss Mildred had been Octavia's governess for seven or eight years, when one bright morning, just before her and Octavia's annual vacation, she was dumfounded to receive a proposal of marriage from Simon. During all these years Cupid had been shooting darts into his heart; he had been a silent lover of Miss Mildred. Time and again it was on the point of his tongue to make this declaration, but knowing that he was of an inferior race, and Miss Mildred far his superior, he shrank from it. During all this time Miss Mildred never suspected the sentiments he had for her, and never dreamed that he had any other than a high regard for her as a faithful teacher to his beautiful niece. She kindly refused him, telling him that she was too much in love with Octavia and engrossed in teaching her to love anybody else. There were stringent laws in this State against miscegenation, and his proposal to elope was out of the question, as, if she ever married, that was one way she wanted to avoid. She said she had a high regard for him as a man of honor and integrity, and trusted that this refusal would not mar their friendship. She said she was wrapped up in his niece, who had a bright future before her, and while only one more session remained before she would enter college, she would regret having to part with her; that she had had a pleasant home in his family, and would return after vacation to put in as faithful service in finishing up Octavia for college as it was in her power to give. This skillful and adroit changing of the subject relieved the embarrassment to both, and the interview ended by Simon wishing for her and Octavia a pleasant vacation at Saratoga.
Simon afterwards said that if he could not marry one of a superior he would not marry one of an inferior race.
In this connection I would say that it is one of the leading characteristics of the negro to want to marry one of better blood, with straight hair and white skin. Consequently mulattoes and quadroons are in demand. Especially do they bank on straight hair; if he or she have straight hair it hides all the ugliness of the face. It is a common remark that females of the white race resort to all kinds of ways to make their hair kinky or frizzly, while those of the negro race would give an empire for straight hair.
Again, the negro suitor makes no objection because one has gone astray, and has one or more illegitimate children. If she has straight hair and a bright skin, it makes no difference about any of her past indiscretions.
While on the subject of matrimony among negroes, I would say that they don't consider it a violation of the laws of God to have a plurality of wives. True, they have one legal wife, but at the same time they have one or more secret or illegal wives. This is the rule, and prevails among their leading men in the churches—stewards, deacons, trustees, Sunday-school superintendents, etc. A great deal is said against Mormonism and polygamy, which some one has termed a "twin evil of slavery." There is no doubt that Mormonism is one of the foulest blots upon the escutcheon of the United States. It is passing strange that such a curse could find a lodgment in "the best government the world ever saw." It is not strange as to slavery, because that was recognized in the Constitution.
I would make the point that there is just as much polygamy among the negroes as there is in Utah, and to be consistent the authorities should cry out against one as the other. But it may be said that it is the States' business to regulate this thing. If so, let them do it. "Consistency, thou art a jewel."
CHAPTER X.
READY FOR COLLEGE.
Octavia was now fourteen, and with her governess was spending their vacation North. While they were absent Brutus came to the city and gave himself up to the sheriff for the murder of Cæsar about eighteen years before. On a preliminary trial he easily proved that he did it in self-defense and was discharged. He immediately applied to Simon for employment. Simon was in need of some one to work his garden, chop wood and do the chores on the place, and as Brutus was a good worker, and for the sake of old times, he employed him. Brutus doubtless had a motive in this, as he had not been there long before he proposed to Elsie. She indignantly repelled him, telling him that she did not want him or any other "kinky-headed" negro. Brutus thought that, as Elsie had at one time in her life wandered from the paths of rectitude, she would readily consent to a marriage. But in this "he reckoned without his host." He continued, however, in Simon's employ and made a good servant. During the whole time that Simon had been a resident of the city he and his household had been very exclusive, holding aloof from the large negro population of that place. Notwithstanding this exclusiveness, Octavia and her governess were not unknown, and more than one young man of Caucasian blood made efforts to get an introduction to Octavia, but in vain. They had found out that Octavia was one-eighth African, but that made no difference, one or two declaring that she was so lovely and accomplished that if necessary they would make a "Gretna Green" affair of it.
There were so many favorable comments on Octavia's beauty when she appeared on the streets that Miss Mildred thought best for her not to be seen so often, and made their visits less frequent. The summer vacation soon sped away, and teacher and pupil were at their posts of duty to put in their last session together. Miss Mildred said it was a pleasure to teach such an apt scholar, and Octavia declared that it was an equal pleasure to be taught by such a proficient and competent teacher.
The affection that existed between the two was wonderful, something on the order of the love that David and Jonathan had for each other. Time did not drag heavily on teacher and pupil, as it does in some schools. The session came to an end and the time at hand when there would have to be a separation. It was decided, however, that Octavia should spend the summer North with her teacher, thus postponing the time of separation three months. Miss Mildred's work with Octavia was done. She would now turn her over to higher educators. Ten years before she took hold, as it were, of the budding mind of Octavia. She saw it gradually grow and unfold, and ere long she would be a full-grown, intellectual flower. She had faithfully performed her part in imparting instruction, and Octavia had equally performed hers in receiving it. The sad day arrived when Miss Mildred had to part with Simon and Elsie—she to return to her far away Northern home and they to remain "away down South in Dixie."
The fact that teacher and pupil had to separate in three months marred the otherwise pleasant vacation which they would have enjoyed together. It was more of a perfunctory sojourn together, both dreading the day of separation.
Simon consulted Colonel R. as to the college Octavia should attend, and it was left to Miss Mildred, who recommended the large female seminary at ——, Massachusetts. Colonel R. then wrote the President of this seminary that he had a ward, a young lady of rare beauty and intellect, whom he desired to enter the ensuing session, and that in addition to his regular fees he would pay for any extra work done for his ward liberally, and for him to spare neither time, labor nor money to advance this young lady, that he wanted for her the best that the institution afforded. He informed the President that she could finish in two sessions, and that she would be present at the beginning of the coming session.
Three months soon sped away, and Octavia and her ex-teacher must part. Their feelings can be better imagined than described. It had to be witnessed to form a correct idea of the bond that existed. Miss Mildred accompanied Octavia to the train and both were entwined in each other's arms, kissing and caressing, and would separate, and Octavia start for the train, when she would return, and the same performance be repeated, and repeated again, until the conductor shouted "All aboard," and the train moved off, bearing a desolate heart, and leaving one equally so at the station.
Octavia was going to a large city, an entire stranger. How desolate one feels in a large city, with acres of humanity around you and not acquainted with a single person! Reader, you will have to realize this to get its full meaning. Miss Mildred had sent a telegram to the President to meet the young lady from the South on the arrival of the train. He did so, and endeavored to make it as pleasant as possible for her, knowing she was a perfect stranger and far from home. The school began the next day, and being engrossed in her studies Octavia soon forgot her loneliness. It was not long before she was a favorite with teachers and pupils. With such a being it could not be otherwise. She was always referred to as "the lovely young lady from the South." She matriculated simply as "Octavia," and when the President insisted that she write her full name (in reality she had none), she would reply "that will do."
This was a strange condition to be in—a lovely, intelligent young lady without a name! Whether the President thought anything strange about this peculiarity was never known. In college, as with her governess, she made rapid strides in all her studies, excelling in elocution, music and art.
She captivated the musical director almost on sight. He knew, however, that propriety forbade his making it known to her. At every musical recital every eye was focussed on her. She received the plaudits and commendation of teacher and pupils. The following appeared in one of the leading dailies of that city in regard to one of her recitals: "The recital yesterday eve at the —— Seminary was indeed a musical treat to the large and cultured audience who graced the occasion. Miss Octavia, a beautiful and accomplished young lady from Alabama, rendered several difficult pieces on the piano which were grand. To have heard these strains one would have thought he or she was listening to Rubenstein, Mozart or others of the masters. It was a greater treat to hear her sing. That voice! It reminded you of Adelina Patti, Jenny Lind or other famous prima donnas. Musical Director ——, of the seminary, is to be congratulated in having such a talented young lady to teach. He also deserves the thanks of the public for getting up such a musical treat."
The above notice is only one of similar import that appeared at different times in the various city papers while Octavia was at the seminary. The session progressed apace; the musical director all the while becoming more and more infatuated with his Southern magnolia, as he termed her. The session at last came to a close, much to the regret of the musical director. Octavia's success had been phenomenal from the first. Her music teacher, being so infatuated, was probably partial, and gave her extra attention. While it was Colonel R.'s wish that she receive extra attention, for which teachers would get extra pay, this teacher of music imparted this extra instruction because of his extra love which he had for his fair pupil from the South. He had always boasted that he could withstand the charms of the loveliest, but he had at last been conquered and had surrendered, "horse, foot and dragoons," to the loveliest being that he had ever beheld. He resolved to make an effort to make her his bride. Consequently he indited the following epistle, which he decided to send her on the evening of commencement, this being grand concert night, and the closing of the school:
"Dear Miss Octavia: I suppose you will be surprised to receive such a note from me, but I don't see why, as my every look and act for the past nine months plainly indicated that I was passionately, devotedly and blindly in love with you. But the rules of the seminary as well as propriety forbade that I should tell you so. The session having closed I now say so, with all the emphasis of my soul, that you are the loveliest and most intelligent girl that these heretofore woman-resisting eyes have ever beheld. Have the breezes wafted this magnolia from the South to make me happy or miserable the balance of my days? Heaven grant that it may be the former. I have surrendered to the most attractive object in existence. This conquest was made innocently on your part, you not having the remotest idea that I entertained any such feelings for you. You are the essence of quintessence; the nectar that Jupiter sipped of the gods was not half so sweet. But enough until I see you and have a personal interview, which I hope you will grant immediately. I anxiously await until the messenger returns. Yours, madly in love with the beautiful flower from Alabama,
"Your Music Teacher."
Upon reading this passionate effusion she burst into tears, and it was quite awhile before she was calm enough to send the following note:
"My Efficient Music Teacher: Your note has just been received and contents regretfully noted. I am pained to have such sentiments from you, and sorry that I have innocently caused such. Were I ever so willing to reciprocate the sentiments expressed, there is an impassable barrier between us, the cause of which I cannot and will not explain. I am sure this is only a passing fancy with you, and on reflection you will soon forget me, and 'Richard will be himself again.' I leave in the early morning for my home in Dixie, where I can have the pleasure of again being with my dear mother and uncle. I appreciate your extra efforts in my behalf in my music lessons, but I cannot and will not grant the interview. Your music pupil from Alabama,
"Octavia."
Upon reading this respectful but positive refusal he tore it in fragments and tossed it out of the window. He then wrote the following note to President ——, of the seminary:
"Dear Sir: Please engage the services of Miss ——, who has been my proficient assistant during the session just closed, as your musical directress during the ensuing session. Don't ask me to explain. Yours truly, ——."
After writing this he deliberately took his pistol, and placing it to his forehead, fired. The occupants of the house, hearing the report, rushed into his room and found him on the floor, pistol by his side and bullet hole in his forehead, from which blood was trickling. They soon discovered the note to President ——, of the seminary, sent it to him, with instructions to come at once and bring a surgeon with him. The two were soon there, and the surgeon, on examining, found that the would-be suicide failed to make a center shot, the ball being deflected and going around the skull, where he extracted it without much trouble. He soon regained consciousness from the concussion, arranged his affairs and left on an early train, never to return. There were glowing accounts in the morning papers of the grand concert, complimenting the director; also giving glowing descriptions of Octavia's singing and playing, and in the same issue giving a detailed account of the tragedy at No. — —— Street, when the musical director shot and thought he had killed himself. As a natural consequence the city, early the next morning, was all agog about the "Grand Concert" and the attempted suicide of the musical director who so successfully conducted it. Everybody was amazed, as no clew could be found for his deed and flight. Octavia called at the President's house on her way to the train to bid him farewell. She inquired of him the cause of the commotion in the city. He told her he was surprised to find that she had not heard of the attempted suicide of his musical director, and her music teacher the past session. He told her of his note requesting him to employ the assistant directress as principal the ensuing session, which he would have to do, as the director had fled and no cause could be found for all this, as he had left in good shape, at least as to money matters. She could easily have told him the cause, but kept her counsel. It was with difficulty that she could restrain her tears while he was telling this.
The President congratulated her on the success she had attained in the seminary, and told of the encomiums he had heard heaped upon her, and after giving her a pressing invitation to return and graduate at the seminary, he bade her an affectionate farewell. She was soon aboard the Pullman sleeper and on her way to the Southland. Being an entire stranger to every one on the train she had opportunity to read the account in one of the city papers, which she had purchased, of the preceding night's events. She was not a vain or egotistical girl, and the papers' compliments of herself did not "turn her head." She was only gratified that she really merited these plaudits. She was grieved, however, to know that she was the innocent cause of the attempted suicide of the musical director, and of President —— being deprived of his efficient services the ensuing term. The lightning speed of the train soon landed her in her mother's arms, who, with Simon, gave her a joyous welcome. She had much to say to them of her seminary life, of the plaudits of the press and people and the farewell commendation of the President, and when she told them of the attempted suicide of her music teacher, and she being the cause, she broke down and wept bitterly. They comforted her by telling her that her next music teacher would be a lady, and surely that could not happen again.
She whiled away the hours of vacation at her piano or organ or with her guitar, violin or harp. Several attempts to gain admission to her society by some of the best white bloods of the city were made, but all in vain. She always refused, telling them that she was a school-girl striving for an education, and she would admit nothing that would detract her from her studies.
Three months soon rolled away, and she bade her mother and uncle farewell, she hoped for the last time, they showering upon her many God bless you's and best wishes.
The second and last session of her seminary life was but a repetition of the first, minus the musical director, and another variation, which will soon be narrated.
Let us now return for awhile to Octavia's home and notice an event that was destined to have an important bearing upon Octavia's post graduate life. A wealthy lady from the North came to the city with a letter of introduction from Miss Mildred to Simon. She was simply making a tour of the South, and Miss Mildred knowing that her friend would be in the city where she had spent ten years of her life, gave her this letter. Anything emanating from Miss Mildred was all right, in Simon's and his sister's estimation, and they gave the lady a cordial welcome, bidding her spend her time with them. She respectfully declined, but said that she would come around often while in the city. This lady had a costly diamond ring, valued at one thousand dollars, which she had taken from her finger one day while at Simon's residence. While in the sitting-room she had carelessly laid the ring on the dresser and forgot it until some time afterwards, when she could find it nowhere. All of the occupants of the house were questioned about it; search for it was made, but it could be found nowhere. It was clearly a case of theft. But who did it? was the question. Surely Miss Mildred would not give her a letter of introduction to a family any one of whom would steal a ring laid on a dresser. Yet she had lost it in their house, and as Simon was at his place of business suspicion at once pointed to Elsie as the thief. The lady put the case in a detective's hands to ferret out. Simon had a next door neighbor, a negro woman as black as the proverbial ace of spades, whom he had spotted as the real thief. She was frequently employed to do scouring and cleaning up in his house, and while she was not doing any work of that kind on the day the ring was stolen, she could easily have stealthily gone into the sitting-room and got it. This woman told several parties that she saw Elsie have a fine diamond ring. The detective found this out and questioned the woman, who confirmed the report. The detective at once suspicioned the woman and also that the woman said she would swear that she saw Elsie have on a fine diamond ring.
Simon at once employed a rising young attorney to defend his sister, as he knew she would be arraigned in court. The Grand Jury was in session, Elsie was indicted, and the trial set for Monday of the next week. The trial came off, and there was a hotly contested legal battle between the opposing counsel, Elsie's lawyer making a fine speech in her behalf and having no trouble in impeaching the evidence of the only witness the State had. Elsie's lawyer proved and brought out the fact that this woman, the State's witness, was in love with Brutus and Brutus in love with Elsie, and that she would swear to Elsie having a diamond ring, when, as the woman thought, Elsie would be convicted, sent to State's prison, and she would have no opposition to Brutus' heart and hand. The attorney made the telling point, that "green eyed jealousy" was why this woman had perjured herself. The jury gave Elsie a unanimous acquittal. This woman, the State's only witness, was then arrested for perjury, when she confessed to having stolen the ring, and to swearing to a lie on Elsie, and handed the ring to the presiding judge. This woman was "hoisted on her own petard," being sent to the penitentiary, instead of Elsie.
Simon thought best to keep all this from Octavia, to whom we will now return. There were two lawyers in the city where Octavia was attending school, who had been struck, the previous session, with Octavia's beauty and accomplishments, but had kept it to themselves. During this session, they attended every recital at the seminary, and the church that Octavia attended. They could, at least, admire at a distance. There were stringent rules, in the seminary, forbidding the girls from having gentlemen visitors. To this, Octavia made no objection, as was done by many other students. It is needless to say that the admiration of these lawyers increased, as the session wore on, Octavia being ignorant of anything of the kind. These men, by some means, found out that the other was in love with this young lady from Alabama, and became bitter enemies, because of this. The session closed, and Octavia graduated with the highest honors, taking all of the prizes, some of which were valuable.
The city papers were again highly complimentary of Octavia, and predicted a brilliant career, for "the accomplished young lady from Alabama." The President of the seminary agreed that on the night of the grand concert, the girls would be allowed to receive attentions from the young men, if agreeable. Octavia's silent rivals met up with each other, on their way to the concert, when the subject of the girls being allowed that night to receive gentlemen attendants, was broached. One claimed the privilege of seeing Miss Octavia; the other said he would enjoy that privilege himself, both showing how egotistical they were. Miss Octavia's feelings were not taken into consideration. They kept contending, until a difficulty ensued, both pulling their pistols and firing at the same time, both falling, one dead and the other wounded. Of course the police were soon there, and the wounded man gave the facts which have just been related.
The concert came off, and Octavia carried off the laurels of the evening. She might not have done so, however, if she had been told that two men, perfect strangers to her had fought a duel about her, one getting killed, and the other wounded. "Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise." After the conclusion of the concert, all this was told her, when she immediately went to her room, and was weeping, when the President of the seminary knocked, and was admitted. He inquired the cause of her grief when she said that again she was the innocent cause of another tragedy; one man dead and another wounded, on her account. The President then tried to comfort her, telling her that he was more the cause of it than any one; that he had removed the restrictions that night, and that these men, not knowing that she would see either one, got into a quarrel as to which one should see her, with the results as stated.
He then complimented her on her attainments and brilliant success in the seminary; of her original graduating essay, etc., and assured her that she would always find a fast friend in him, and wished her unbounded success in life, and would now sadly say farewell. When he was gone, she again was convulsed with tears; bitter tears, at parting with her presiding teacher, and of being innocently the cause of the tragedy that had just been enacted.
She retired weeping, and cried herself to sleep, and was awakened early the next morning by her hackman, to take her to the train, which was almost ready to start. She hastily dressed, and with her baggage was soon in the hack, arriving just in time for Octavia to board the moving train. She was bidding farewell to the city of her triumphs, in which two tragedies had been enacted on her account, and was on her way to her own Southern, sunny, happy home, at the same time wondering what would be her future.