CHAPTER V.PREPARATIONS.“Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world,Like a Colossus; and we petty menWalk under his huge legs, and peep aboutTo find ourselves dishonorable graves.”Casca, in Julius Caesar.The8th of July, 1876, was an exceedingly hot day, and few white residents of the State of South Carolina ventured out of doors in the hotter hours, though, as is usual, the colored race needed less caution to avoid sunstroke.About nine o’clock, A. M., two gentlemen issued from an attractive residence, which was situated on a slight eminence on the outskirts of a little village called Enfield Court-House. Leaving the broad piazza, they walked leisurely down the gently sloping lawn to the street. As they closed the gate behind them a covered buggy passed, in which was seated a middle-aged man who bore a decidedly commanding air.His hat lay upon the seat beside him, and the light hot breeze lifted the long iron-gray hair which lay upon his shoulders, and fluttered his linen duster and the loose flapping curtains of the carriage with a cool and comfortable appearance.His horse was fresh, and so spirited that the neatly-gloved hands of the gentleman were well-exercised in controlling him.He found time to gaze at the two gentlemen upon the ground, however, but gave no sign of recognition, save possibly a little more lofty elevation of the head.“The General is off on professional business, judging from his manner and duster,” remarked the elder of the two pedestrians.“I often find it hard to repress a smile, even in his presence, at hiswondrous pomposity. What kind of a business would he do in the North—Ohio, say—with all his airs? He wouldn’t have a client.”“Oh, yes, he would. There are plenty of people everywhere, who never know what estimate to put upon others till they, or some one else tell them. But the General’s “airs,” as you call them, are his stock in trade here.”Both men laughed heartily.“But to think of a man passing his neighbor and State Senator as he did you, Mr. Cone! He should respect your office, at least.”“Ah! that’s what he does not do when a radical is the incumbent. He was once quite condescending and affable to me, when I let politics and education alone, and didn’t meddle with them at all.”“Meddle! Senator! Who has a better right than you to take an interest in politics?”“Young man you forget yourself, you must learn meeknessand discretion—not to put too fine a point on it—or you will get into trouble.”“But we are immensely in the majority,—the State is really in our hands. Why should we cringle and bow to this haughty minority just because the blood of their families, is in our veins, mixed with various proportions of African?”“But you’re a ‘nigger’!”“True, and they used to say that black men had no rights that white men were bound to respect. That was their day. This is ours.”“Ah, but I want a better pattern for my life than they have been. I say, because we are in the majority, let us take all the honors and offices we can, but wear them meekly for our safety’s sake, and fill them honorably for conscience’s sake. Good morning!” and the twain separated to go, the one to his law studies, and the other to his duties as planter and legislator.We will accompany the General. Right through the torrid heat he kept on, over hill and valley, only stopping occasionally to cool his reeking horse in the shade of some friendly tree, or to converse with some white man whose house he entered briefly, or whom he beckoned to his carriage if within call.At length he descended a long hill, and, reining his horse below the bridge, he drove into a small stream, where, in the shade of some overhanging trees, he paused a few moments, allowing his horse to drink while he hastilypencilled a few figures in his notebook. Adding them up he shook his head thoughtfully, and said, in a low tone: “That will not do. Which way next?”On looking up, he descried a horseman descending the hill before him. Driving out of the water, and regaining the road, he awaited his approach.“Howdy do, General?” said the equestrian, pausing beside the carriage. “Hot day this.”“Infernally hot, Dr. Wise!” and he grasped the extended hand, as he wiped the perspiration from his face and neck with his left, and, though apparently irritated by the heat, he shook hands cordially.“Itishot here, hot as that hottest of all places, and I hear they are going to have that over here in Baconsville pretty soon; I hear so,” and the Doctor shook his fat sides with a chuckling laugh, adding: “You must have important business to call you out to-day.”“It is quite important,quite,” replied General Baker. “I have got a suit on hand in Baconsville that is quite important, and if that other place you are talking about comes there, I hope I shall not find it hotter than this hollow is. Niggers may stand it, but I cannot.”Both gentlemen were delighted and laughed loudly.“I’ve just come from there,” said Dr. Wise.“From where—Baconsville? or the other hot place?”“Oh, from Baconsville,” replied the medical man, laughing. “I couldn’t have got away from the other place with all this fat.”The laugh again subsiding, he continued: “You see I have a patient I am watching over there; and being in the neighborhood, was called in to see two or three of the better class of colored people. I’m afraid you’ll have trouble, there, at that suit. The niggers are saucy, and very angry about that collision between the Bakers and the militia.”“Well, Doctor, the colored people in South Carolina have become so insolent and insurrectionary, and intractable, and have taken on so many intolerable airs, that they must be made to know their places. You will see their wenches on the streets of Augusta and Charleston, and all our cities, with their “pin-backs” and “button shoes,” and “bustles,” and indeed imitating our ladies in everything; and they even act as though they expected a white man to step aside and let them pass, as if they were the ladies themselves. I saw an affair in Charleston the other day thatmade my blood boil, and I involuntarily laid my hand upon my pistol, but fortunately I was preserved from using it.“Three great black—creatures, I suppose I must call themmen—were walking up the street, and met three young ladies whom I know to be members of one of our best families. What do you think but that these impudent brutes actually crowded our ladies into the gutter—made them actually step off the pavement for want of room to pass! Quite fortunately the ditch was dry, and not deep—four or five inches, at most. But such indignities are too great a tax on the forbearance of a gentleman of gallantry!Only one of the ladies actually stepped off, but then, time was when I could have blown out the brains of all three of the rascals, and the community and the State would have sustained me. But those were days of “home rule.” Alas! when shall we ever see them again!“I do not know what they are meditating at Baconsville, but I hear they have been performing military evolutions, with arms in their hands, two or three times a week, recently, and at night too; and I am called over to put a stop to it. Why, we are not safe in our beds! It is one of the atrocities of our carpet-bag government that they are allowed armsat all, and now they have attacked our people.”“Now, you don’t say so, General!” exclaimed the Doctor.“To be sure! This case of mine would bear that construction; though Mr. Robert Baker has, in the absence of counsel, very mildly, and I fear unwisely, put it on the ground of ‘obstructing the highway.’ He might have made a case much stronger, for they obstructed the way with their guns and bayonets, and Gaston says some of them, at least, were seen to load their guns on the spot.”“It is a case of positive violence, then, and insurrection?”“Oh, positive insubordination,” said the General, with great emphasis and indignation. “And they have been making such threats that I’m called over to see if there is any redress possible—any law or means by which they can be restrained.”“If anybody can straighten them out,youcan, General; whether it is to be done by law or by force of arms. We haven’t forgotten your record in the Confederate service. But have you no help? You will need backing, I fear.”“I have called upon several gentlemen along the way, and interested them and their clubs, I think; and the club at Enfield promise to come over to my assistance one hundred strong at least. But I have just been computing and could desire even a larger force, especially should the Judge decide adversely to us; for somethingmustbe done to insure our protection. I confess I feel some concern.”“On reflection, I think you need not, General, for the community is fully aroused by a report that the negroes intend tomobthose young men.”“Mob them!” ejaculated General Baker, with an oath. “They will scarcely dare to do that. They know my military reputation too well to try that, and I shall be prepared for them, now that you have kindly forewarned me. But to be so Doctor, I must bid you good-day, and hasten forward, for a good seven miles lies before me yet.”“I have great confidence in your ability to command success, and am sure the darkies have a wholesome respect for the same. So, wishing you all success, I also bid you good-day.”The General now called more frequently upon the white people along the way, but soon found them anticipating his coming and ready to join him soon; forming quite an escort of cavalry as they proceeded.It was two o’clock and intensely hot when they arrived at Sommer Hill, and found about one hundred and fifty men grouped in the shade of two wide-spreading oak trees near a church there, and around a grog shop opposite.The General’s arrival was greeted with three cheers, three times repeated, and three “tigers;” and the men, anxious to do him honor, pressed around his carriage to shake his hand and assure him that they still cherished the recollections of his gallantry on behalf of the “lost cause.”Though quite animated, this scene was brief, for courteously declining the scores of invitations to “drink,” General Baker informed his followers that the call to duty was still more imperative to his mind than those to eat or drink, and he must hasten forward to consult with his clients before the hour for court arrived.Directing them to remain there till signaled, and to keep an outlook from the brow of the hill overlooking Baconsville, two miles away, he bravely rode thitherward entirely unattended, notwithstanding the earnest protestations of his numerous friends.“So brave a man who can decline such entreaties to drink, and as gracefully as the General did, ought to be at the head of a temperance society,” said a young man, lounging near the church.“That’s so, Jimminy!” replied a comrade. “Wonder if he isn’t.”“I’m afraid not. I suppose he takes his wine, and probably something stronger sometimes; though he wants a coolhead now. I wish those fellows over there wouldn’t drink so. I’m for breaking up the nigger militia; but we want cool heads for it. We canscarethe niggers out of it if we work it right, and all keep sober.”“That’s what I think, but you see already how it will be. I would go home and give it up, but they’ll say I was afraid. I don’t want to get into no collisions with the United States, for my part; and if a lot of them get drunk, I’m afraid something will be done that will lead to that.”Less than half a mile from where this conversation was passing, Harry Gaston sat in his shady porch.“Don’t set there doing nothing but watching,” said a tall lean young woman who sat just inside of the door, busying herself by rocking in an easy chair. “The General will think yo’ reckon on ’im awfully, an’ he’s conceited enough now, mercy knows! There, take them old papers of yo’re uncle’s, and make as if yo’ was studying politics on yo’ own hook;” and she tossed a handful of newspapers upon the floor beside him.He took up a copy of that celebrated democratic organ of the South, the CharlestonNews and Courier, dated May, 1875, and read—“Governor Chamberlain richly deserves the confidence of the people of this State. The people of South Carolina, who have all at stake, who see and hear what persons outside the State cannot know, are satisfied with his honesty. They believe in him as well they may.”“Bah! the contemptible carpet-bagger!” said Gaston,dashing the paper on the floor; and picking up another, dated February, 1876, he read again—“We believe that, without regard to consequences or to his party, he (the Governor) will go on in the narrow path of right.”Another—“January, 1876. In South Carolina the conspicuous leader in the fight for reform, the one man who has made reform possible at an early day, is Governor Chamberlain, whose election was the greatest blessing in disguise that this people has ever known.”“The greatest curse!” exclaimed Gaston kicking the paper off the porch.“That theCourier?” drawled Mrs. Gaston. “I thought that used to be the best paper in the South—true to the Confederacy all through the war. Has it gone over to the Radicals?”“It don’t pretend so, but it has been bribed, I reckon.”A voice from the highway, now called the husband away to hold a brief colloquy with General Baker.“My horse is very tired and warm, and I myself am in need of refreshment; so, Mr. Gaston, I shall be obliged if you will strike across the fields and notify your father-in-law of my arrival, and bring him and your brother-in-law, Tom, to the store of Mr. Dunn to meet me for conference about the suit we have in hand,” and the great man drove on.“Mary, General Baker wants me to go across the fields to your father’s for him,” said the young man, with a demure countenance, on re-entering the house.“Well, I reckon yo’ won’t do no such a thing!” she replied, forcibly. “A mighty easy thing it would be for some nigger to pop you over, and nobody to see. Yo’ won’t go that way.”“I’ll just gallop down the other road and get to the village ahead o’ the General; Tom’s thar’, we can go together after the old man; though I a’n’t afraid of the niggers.”“See! see! Meester Dunn,” said that worthy’s helpful “frau,” as they sat at their dinner in a room immediately in the rear of their grocery. “Dar is Shinneral Paker from Enefield, an’ er pe shtopping right here! Pe quick, now. My laws! but dis vill pe ine goot ebening by de bar! De Shenneral shtop ’ere, an’ all de gem’mans and companies come, too! Hurry, now Shorge!”“Dat alle right now. I fix ’m mit ole Bob gester-tag,” said the shrewd though moderate husband, George, arising from the table, and shuffling through the glass door by which the dining-room and grocery (or more accuratelygroggery), communicated, he greeted the great military dignity with a volume of broken English that was almost incomprehensible.Shaking the dust from his apparel, the distinguished guest ordered food and drink for his beast, after time given him to cool; adding that he would refresh himself while waiting for the appearance of his clients.“Alle right! alle right! De ole voman vill serve you,” replied Dunn, as he followed his colored servant and the weary horse to the stables.Gaston and Tommy were by this time crossing the great truck-farm of Robert Baker, every rood of which was purchased with the earnings of trained blood-hounds, chasing fugitives from justice or labor, and mainly the latter.In a sag of land, between the hills on the right and the river on the left, was a brickyard, in the office of which Mr. Robert Baker and his son Hanson were found.The four men were soonen routefor Baconsville. A colored boy, bound apprentice to the older Baker, skulked along the crooked fence by the wayside.“Joe,” said the old man, stopping the horse, “Joe, come here.” The personal appearance and reputation of the old man, and recollections of a recent chastisement for drumming for the militia company, made little Joe’s dark skin quiver as he timidly approached the vehicle.“Get in,” said the same gruff voice, as room was made for the child at Baker’s feet, where he gathered himself into the smallest possible ball, from which two great, soft, timid eyes looked from one face to another, and from the two glittering guns of the young men who rode on either side, and the pistol-shaped lumps on the left breasts of their thin coats, to the breasts of the two men fronting him in the carriage, where he could see two more bright and shining “nine-shooters” peeping out.The wind presently raised a paper from a basket standing beside him, and disclosed two great horse-pistols lying on a clean white napkin.“I wonder is dey gwoine to shoot Doc and Watta widdem ’ar’, as Ned Dunn said dey is?” thought the child. “Dat looks like dar’s a mighty nice lunch undah ’em, anyhow?”Hanson Baker jerked the lap-robe from his knees, and covered the basket from view.They soon reached Dunn’s store, and alighted, and removing the basket, bade Joe return with the horse and carriage, and remember to stay there closely.As they sat in close conversation in the back part of that groggery, while the General partook of the “nice lunch” the basket did contain, it was plain that “Old Bob Baker, the slave catcher,” and the aristocratic General had little in common except their patronymic and their political opinions and ideas.
CHAPTER V.PREPARATIONS.“Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world,Like a Colossus; and we petty menWalk under his huge legs, and peep aboutTo find ourselves dishonorable graves.”Casca, in Julius Caesar.The8th of July, 1876, was an exceedingly hot day, and few white residents of the State of South Carolina ventured out of doors in the hotter hours, though, as is usual, the colored race needed less caution to avoid sunstroke.About nine o’clock, A. M., two gentlemen issued from an attractive residence, which was situated on a slight eminence on the outskirts of a little village called Enfield Court-House. Leaving the broad piazza, they walked leisurely down the gently sloping lawn to the street. As they closed the gate behind them a covered buggy passed, in which was seated a middle-aged man who bore a decidedly commanding air.His hat lay upon the seat beside him, and the light hot breeze lifted the long iron-gray hair which lay upon his shoulders, and fluttered his linen duster and the loose flapping curtains of the carriage with a cool and comfortable appearance.His horse was fresh, and so spirited that the neatly-gloved hands of the gentleman were well-exercised in controlling him.He found time to gaze at the two gentlemen upon the ground, however, but gave no sign of recognition, save possibly a little more lofty elevation of the head.“The General is off on professional business, judging from his manner and duster,” remarked the elder of the two pedestrians.“I often find it hard to repress a smile, even in his presence, at hiswondrous pomposity. What kind of a business would he do in the North—Ohio, say—with all his airs? He wouldn’t have a client.”“Oh, yes, he would. There are plenty of people everywhere, who never know what estimate to put upon others till they, or some one else tell them. But the General’s “airs,” as you call them, are his stock in trade here.”Both men laughed heartily.“But to think of a man passing his neighbor and State Senator as he did you, Mr. Cone! He should respect your office, at least.”“Ah! that’s what he does not do when a radical is the incumbent. He was once quite condescending and affable to me, when I let politics and education alone, and didn’t meddle with them at all.”“Meddle! Senator! Who has a better right than you to take an interest in politics?”“Young man you forget yourself, you must learn meeknessand discretion—not to put too fine a point on it—or you will get into trouble.”“But we are immensely in the majority,—the State is really in our hands. Why should we cringle and bow to this haughty minority just because the blood of their families, is in our veins, mixed with various proportions of African?”“But you’re a ‘nigger’!”“True, and they used to say that black men had no rights that white men were bound to respect. That was their day. This is ours.”“Ah, but I want a better pattern for my life than they have been. I say, because we are in the majority, let us take all the honors and offices we can, but wear them meekly for our safety’s sake, and fill them honorably for conscience’s sake. Good morning!” and the twain separated to go, the one to his law studies, and the other to his duties as planter and legislator.We will accompany the General. Right through the torrid heat he kept on, over hill and valley, only stopping occasionally to cool his reeking horse in the shade of some friendly tree, or to converse with some white man whose house he entered briefly, or whom he beckoned to his carriage if within call.At length he descended a long hill, and, reining his horse below the bridge, he drove into a small stream, where, in the shade of some overhanging trees, he paused a few moments, allowing his horse to drink while he hastilypencilled a few figures in his notebook. Adding them up he shook his head thoughtfully, and said, in a low tone: “That will not do. Which way next?”On looking up, he descried a horseman descending the hill before him. Driving out of the water, and regaining the road, he awaited his approach.“Howdy do, General?” said the equestrian, pausing beside the carriage. “Hot day this.”“Infernally hot, Dr. Wise!” and he grasped the extended hand, as he wiped the perspiration from his face and neck with his left, and, though apparently irritated by the heat, he shook hands cordially.“Itishot here, hot as that hottest of all places, and I hear they are going to have that over here in Baconsville pretty soon; I hear so,” and the Doctor shook his fat sides with a chuckling laugh, adding: “You must have important business to call you out to-day.”“It is quite important,quite,” replied General Baker. “I have got a suit on hand in Baconsville that is quite important, and if that other place you are talking about comes there, I hope I shall not find it hotter than this hollow is. Niggers may stand it, but I cannot.”Both gentlemen were delighted and laughed loudly.“I’ve just come from there,” said Dr. Wise.“From where—Baconsville? or the other hot place?”“Oh, from Baconsville,” replied the medical man, laughing. “I couldn’t have got away from the other place with all this fat.”The laugh again subsiding, he continued: “You see I have a patient I am watching over there; and being in the neighborhood, was called in to see two or three of the better class of colored people. I’m afraid you’ll have trouble, there, at that suit. The niggers are saucy, and very angry about that collision between the Bakers and the militia.”“Well, Doctor, the colored people in South Carolina have become so insolent and insurrectionary, and intractable, and have taken on so many intolerable airs, that they must be made to know their places. You will see their wenches on the streets of Augusta and Charleston, and all our cities, with their “pin-backs” and “button shoes,” and “bustles,” and indeed imitating our ladies in everything; and they even act as though they expected a white man to step aside and let them pass, as if they were the ladies themselves. I saw an affair in Charleston the other day thatmade my blood boil, and I involuntarily laid my hand upon my pistol, but fortunately I was preserved from using it.“Three great black—creatures, I suppose I must call themmen—were walking up the street, and met three young ladies whom I know to be members of one of our best families. What do you think but that these impudent brutes actually crowded our ladies into the gutter—made them actually step off the pavement for want of room to pass! Quite fortunately the ditch was dry, and not deep—four or five inches, at most. But such indignities are too great a tax on the forbearance of a gentleman of gallantry!Only one of the ladies actually stepped off, but then, time was when I could have blown out the brains of all three of the rascals, and the community and the State would have sustained me. But those were days of “home rule.” Alas! when shall we ever see them again!“I do not know what they are meditating at Baconsville, but I hear they have been performing military evolutions, with arms in their hands, two or three times a week, recently, and at night too; and I am called over to put a stop to it. Why, we are not safe in our beds! It is one of the atrocities of our carpet-bag government that they are allowed armsat all, and now they have attacked our people.”“Now, you don’t say so, General!” exclaimed the Doctor.“To be sure! This case of mine would bear that construction; though Mr. Robert Baker has, in the absence of counsel, very mildly, and I fear unwisely, put it on the ground of ‘obstructing the highway.’ He might have made a case much stronger, for they obstructed the way with their guns and bayonets, and Gaston says some of them, at least, were seen to load their guns on the spot.”“It is a case of positive violence, then, and insurrection?”“Oh, positive insubordination,” said the General, with great emphasis and indignation. “And they have been making such threats that I’m called over to see if there is any redress possible—any law or means by which they can be restrained.”“If anybody can straighten them out,youcan, General; whether it is to be done by law or by force of arms. We haven’t forgotten your record in the Confederate service. But have you no help? You will need backing, I fear.”“I have called upon several gentlemen along the way, and interested them and their clubs, I think; and the club at Enfield promise to come over to my assistance one hundred strong at least. But I have just been computing and could desire even a larger force, especially should the Judge decide adversely to us; for somethingmustbe done to insure our protection. I confess I feel some concern.”“On reflection, I think you need not, General, for the community is fully aroused by a report that the negroes intend tomobthose young men.”“Mob them!” ejaculated General Baker, with an oath. “They will scarcely dare to do that. They know my military reputation too well to try that, and I shall be prepared for them, now that you have kindly forewarned me. But to be so Doctor, I must bid you good-day, and hasten forward, for a good seven miles lies before me yet.”“I have great confidence in your ability to command success, and am sure the darkies have a wholesome respect for the same. So, wishing you all success, I also bid you good-day.”The General now called more frequently upon the white people along the way, but soon found them anticipating his coming and ready to join him soon; forming quite an escort of cavalry as they proceeded.It was two o’clock and intensely hot when they arrived at Sommer Hill, and found about one hundred and fifty men grouped in the shade of two wide-spreading oak trees near a church there, and around a grog shop opposite.The General’s arrival was greeted with three cheers, three times repeated, and three “tigers;” and the men, anxious to do him honor, pressed around his carriage to shake his hand and assure him that they still cherished the recollections of his gallantry on behalf of the “lost cause.”Though quite animated, this scene was brief, for courteously declining the scores of invitations to “drink,” General Baker informed his followers that the call to duty was still more imperative to his mind than those to eat or drink, and he must hasten forward to consult with his clients before the hour for court arrived.Directing them to remain there till signaled, and to keep an outlook from the brow of the hill overlooking Baconsville, two miles away, he bravely rode thitherward entirely unattended, notwithstanding the earnest protestations of his numerous friends.“So brave a man who can decline such entreaties to drink, and as gracefully as the General did, ought to be at the head of a temperance society,” said a young man, lounging near the church.“That’s so, Jimminy!” replied a comrade. “Wonder if he isn’t.”“I’m afraid not. I suppose he takes his wine, and probably something stronger sometimes; though he wants a coolhead now. I wish those fellows over there wouldn’t drink so. I’m for breaking up the nigger militia; but we want cool heads for it. We canscarethe niggers out of it if we work it right, and all keep sober.”“That’s what I think, but you see already how it will be. I would go home and give it up, but they’ll say I was afraid. I don’t want to get into no collisions with the United States, for my part; and if a lot of them get drunk, I’m afraid something will be done that will lead to that.”Less than half a mile from where this conversation was passing, Harry Gaston sat in his shady porch.“Don’t set there doing nothing but watching,” said a tall lean young woman who sat just inside of the door, busying herself by rocking in an easy chair. “The General will think yo’ reckon on ’im awfully, an’ he’s conceited enough now, mercy knows! There, take them old papers of yo’re uncle’s, and make as if yo’ was studying politics on yo’ own hook;” and she tossed a handful of newspapers upon the floor beside him.He took up a copy of that celebrated democratic organ of the South, the CharlestonNews and Courier, dated May, 1875, and read—“Governor Chamberlain richly deserves the confidence of the people of this State. The people of South Carolina, who have all at stake, who see and hear what persons outside the State cannot know, are satisfied with his honesty. They believe in him as well they may.”“Bah! the contemptible carpet-bagger!” said Gaston,dashing the paper on the floor; and picking up another, dated February, 1876, he read again—“We believe that, without regard to consequences or to his party, he (the Governor) will go on in the narrow path of right.”Another—“January, 1876. In South Carolina the conspicuous leader in the fight for reform, the one man who has made reform possible at an early day, is Governor Chamberlain, whose election was the greatest blessing in disguise that this people has ever known.”“The greatest curse!” exclaimed Gaston kicking the paper off the porch.“That theCourier?” drawled Mrs. Gaston. “I thought that used to be the best paper in the South—true to the Confederacy all through the war. Has it gone over to the Radicals?”“It don’t pretend so, but it has been bribed, I reckon.”A voice from the highway, now called the husband away to hold a brief colloquy with General Baker.“My horse is very tired and warm, and I myself am in need of refreshment; so, Mr. Gaston, I shall be obliged if you will strike across the fields and notify your father-in-law of my arrival, and bring him and your brother-in-law, Tom, to the store of Mr. Dunn to meet me for conference about the suit we have in hand,” and the great man drove on.“Mary, General Baker wants me to go across the fields to your father’s for him,” said the young man, with a demure countenance, on re-entering the house.“Well, I reckon yo’ won’t do no such a thing!” she replied, forcibly. “A mighty easy thing it would be for some nigger to pop you over, and nobody to see. Yo’ won’t go that way.”“I’ll just gallop down the other road and get to the village ahead o’ the General; Tom’s thar’, we can go together after the old man; though I a’n’t afraid of the niggers.”“See! see! Meester Dunn,” said that worthy’s helpful “frau,” as they sat at their dinner in a room immediately in the rear of their grocery. “Dar is Shinneral Paker from Enefield, an’ er pe shtopping right here! Pe quick, now. My laws! but dis vill pe ine goot ebening by de bar! De Shenneral shtop ’ere, an’ all de gem’mans and companies come, too! Hurry, now Shorge!”“Dat alle right now. I fix ’m mit ole Bob gester-tag,” said the shrewd though moderate husband, George, arising from the table, and shuffling through the glass door by which the dining-room and grocery (or more accuratelygroggery), communicated, he greeted the great military dignity with a volume of broken English that was almost incomprehensible.Shaking the dust from his apparel, the distinguished guest ordered food and drink for his beast, after time given him to cool; adding that he would refresh himself while waiting for the appearance of his clients.“Alle right! alle right! De ole voman vill serve you,” replied Dunn, as he followed his colored servant and the weary horse to the stables.Gaston and Tommy were by this time crossing the great truck-farm of Robert Baker, every rood of which was purchased with the earnings of trained blood-hounds, chasing fugitives from justice or labor, and mainly the latter.In a sag of land, between the hills on the right and the river on the left, was a brickyard, in the office of which Mr. Robert Baker and his son Hanson were found.The four men were soonen routefor Baconsville. A colored boy, bound apprentice to the older Baker, skulked along the crooked fence by the wayside.“Joe,” said the old man, stopping the horse, “Joe, come here.” The personal appearance and reputation of the old man, and recollections of a recent chastisement for drumming for the militia company, made little Joe’s dark skin quiver as he timidly approached the vehicle.“Get in,” said the same gruff voice, as room was made for the child at Baker’s feet, where he gathered himself into the smallest possible ball, from which two great, soft, timid eyes looked from one face to another, and from the two glittering guns of the young men who rode on either side, and the pistol-shaped lumps on the left breasts of their thin coats, to the breasts of the two men fronting him in the carriage, where he could see two more bright and shining “nine-shooters” peeping out.The wind presently raised a paper from a basket standing beside him, and disclosed two great horse-pistols lying on a clean white napkin.“I wonder is dey gwoine to shoot Doc and Watta widdem ’ar’, as Ned Dunn said dey is?” thought the child. “Dat looks like dar’s a mighty nice lunch undah ’em, anyhow?”Hanson Baker jerked the lap-robe from his knees, and covered the basket from view.They soon reached Dunn’s store, and alighted, and removing the basket, bade Joe return with the horse and carriage, and remember to stay there closely.As they sat in close conversation in the back part of that groggery, while the General partook of the “nice lunch” the basket did contain, it was plain that “Old Bob Baker, the slave catcher,” and the aristocratic General had little in common except their patronymic and their political opinions and ideas.
“Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world,Like a Colossus; and we petty menWalk under his huge legs, and peep aboutTo find ourselves dishonorable graves.”
Casca, in Julius Caesar.
The8th of July, 1876, was an exceedingly hot day, and few white residents of the State of South Carolina ventured out of doors in the hotter hours, though, as is usual, the colored race needed less caution to avoid sunstroke.
About nine o’clock, A. M., two gentlemen issued from an attractive residence, which was situated on a slight eminence on the outskirts of a little village called Enfield Court-House. Leaving the broad piazza, they walked leisurely down the gently sloping lawn to the street. As they closed the gate behind them a covered buggy passed, in which was seated a middle-aged man who bore a decidedly commanding air.
His hat lay upon the seat beside him, and the light hot breeze lifted the long iron-gray hair which lay upon his shoulders, and fluttered his linen duster and the loose flapping curtains of the carriage with a cool and comfortable appearance.
His horse was fresh, and so spirited that the neatly-gloved hands of the gentleman were well-exercised in controlling him.
He found time to gaze at the two gentlemen upon the ground, however, but gave no sign of recognition, save possibly a little more lofty elevation of the head.
“The General is off on professional business, judging from his manner and duster,” remarked the elder of the two pedestrians.
“I often find it hard to repress a smile, even in his presence, at hiswondrous pomposity. What kind of a business would he do in the North—Ohio, say—with all his airs? He wouldn’t have a client.”
“Oh, yes, he would. There are plenty of people everywhere, who never know what estimate to put upon others till they, or some one else tell them. But the General’s “airs,” as you call them, are his stock in trade here.”
Both men laughed heartily.
“But to think of a man passing his neighbor and State Senator as he did you, Mr. Cone! He should respect your office, at least.”
“Ah! that’s what he does not do when a radical is the incumbent. He was once quite condescending and affable to me, when I let politics and education alone, and didn’t meddle with them at all.”
“Meddle! Senator! Who has a better right than you to take an interest in politics?”
“Young man you forget yourself, you must learn meeknessand discretion—not to put too fine a point on it—or you will get into trouble.”
“But we are immensely in the majority,—the State is really in our hands. Why should we cringle and bow to this haughty minority just because the blood of their families, is in our veins, mixed with various proportions of African?”
“But you’re a ‘nigger’!”
“True, and they used to say that black men had no rights that white men were bound to respect. That was their day. This is ours.”
“Ah, but I want a better pattern for my life than they have been. I say, because we are in the majority, let us take all the honors and offices we can, but wear them meekly for our safety’s sake, and fill them honorably for conscience’s sake. Good morning!” and the twain separated to go, the one to his law studies, and the other to his duties as planter and legislator.
We will accompany the General. Right through the torrid heat he kept on, over hill and valley, only stopping occasionally to cool his reeking horse in the shade of some friendly tree, or to converse with some white man whose house he entered briefly, or whom he beckoned to his carriage if within call.
At length he descended a long hill, and, reining his horse below the bridge, he drove into a small stream, where, in the shade of some overhanging trees, he paused a few moments, allowing his horse to drink while he hastilypencilled a few figures in his notebook. Adding them up he shook his head thoughtfully, and said, in a low tone: “That will not do. Which way next?”
On looking up, he descried a horseman descending the hill before him. Driving out of the water, and regaining the road, he awaited his approach.
“Howdy do, General?” said the equestrian, pausing beside the carriage. “Hot day this.”
“Infernally hot, Dr. Wise!” and he grasped the extended hand, as he wiped the perspiration from his face and neck with his left, and, though apparently irritated by the heat, he shook hands cordially.
“Itishot here, hot as that hottest of all places, and I hear they are going to have that over here in Baconsville pretty soon; I hear so,” and the Doctor shook his fat sides with a chuckling laugh, adding: “You must have important business to call you out to-day.”
“It is quite important,quite,” replied General Baker. “I have got a suit on hand in Baconsville that is quite important, and if that other place you are talking about comes there, I hope I shall not find it hotter than this hollow is. Niggers may stand it, but I cannot.”
Both gentlemen were delighted and laughed loudly.
“I’ve just come from there,” said Dr. Wise.
“From where—Baconsville? or the other hot place?”
“Oh, from Baconsville,” replied the medical man, laughing. “I couldn’t have got away from the other place with all this fat.”
The laugh again subsiding, he continued: “You see I have a patient I am watching over there; and being in the neighborhood, was called in to see two or three of the better class of colored people. I’m afraid you’ll have trouble, there, at that suit. The niggers are saucy, and very angry about that collision between the Bakers and the militia.”
“Well, Doctor, the colored people in South Carolina have become so insolent and insurrectionary, and intractable, and have taken on so many intolerable airs, that they must be made to know their places. You will see their wenches on the streets of Augusta and Charleston, and all our cities, with their “pin-backs” and “button shoes,” and “bustles,” and indeed imitating our ladies in everything; and they even act as though they expected a white man to step aside and let them pass, as if they were the ladies themselves. I saw an affair in Charleston the other day thatmade my blood boil, and I involuntarily laid my hand upon my pistol, but fortunately I was preserved from using it.
“Three great black—creatures, I suppose I must call themmen—were walking up the street, and met three young ladies whom I know to be members of one of our best families. What do you think but that these impudent brutes actually crowded our ladies into the gutter—made them actually step off the pavement for want of room to pass! Quite fortunately the ditch was dry, and not deep—four or five inches, at most. But such indignities are too great a tax on the forbearance of a gentleman of gallantry!Only one of the ladies actually stepped off, but then, time was when I could have blown out the brains of all three of the rascals, and the community and the State would have sustained me. But those were days of “home rule.” Alas! when shall we ever see them again!
“I do not know what they are meditating at Baconsville, but I hear they have been performing military evolutions, with arms in their hands, two or three times a week, recently, and at night too; and I am called over to put a stop to it. Why, we are not safe in our beds! It is one of the atrocities of our carpet-bag government that they are allowed armsat all, and now they have attacked our people.”
“Now, you don’t say so, General!” exclaimed the Doctor.
“To be sure! This case of mine would bear that construction; though Mr. Robert Baker has, in the absence of counsel, very mildly, and I fear unwisely, put it on the ground of ‘obstructing the highway.’ He might have made a case much stronger, for they obstructed the way with their guns and bayonets, and Gaston says some of them, at least, were seen to load their guns on the spot.”
“It is a case of positive violence, then, and insurrection?”
“Oh, positive insubordination,” said the General, with great emphasis and indignation. “And they have been making such threats that I’m called over to see if there is any redress possible—any law or means by which they can be restrained.”
“If anybody can straighten them out,youcan, General; whether it is to be done by law or by force of arms. We haven’t forgotten your record in the Confederate service. But have you no help? You will need backing, I fear.”
“I have called upon several gentlemen along the way, and interested them and their clubs, I think; and the club at Enfield promise to come over to my assistance one hundred strong at least. But I have just been computing and could desire even a larger force, especially should the Judge decide adversely to us; for somethingmustbe done to insure our protection. I confess I feel some concern.”
“On reflection, I think you need not, General, for the community is fully aroused by a report that the negroes intend tomobthose young men.”
“Mob them!” ejaculated General Baker, with an oath. “They will scarcely dare to do that. They know my military reputation too well to try that, and I shall be prepared for them, now that you have kindly forewarned me. But to be so Doctor, I must bid you good-day, and hasten forward, for a good seven miles lies before me yet.”
“I have great confidence in your ability to command success, and am sure the darkies have a wholesome respect for the same. So, wishing you all success, I also bid you good-day.”
The General now called more frequently upon the white people along the way, but soon found them anticipating his coming and ready to join him soon; forming quite an escort of cavalry as they proceeded.
It was two o’clock and intensely hot when they arrived at Sommer Hill, and found about one hundred and fifty men grouped in the shade of two wide-spreading oak trees near a church there, and around a grog shop opposite.
The General’s arrival was greeted with three cheers, three times repeated, and three “tigers;” and the men, anxious to do him honor, pressed around his carriage to shake his hand and assure him that they still cherished the recollections of his gallantry on behalf of the “lost cause.”
Though quite animated, this scene was brief, for courteously declining the scores of invitations to “drink,” General Baker informed his followers that the call to duty was still more imperative to his mind than those to eat or drink, and he must hasten forward to consult with his clients before the hour for court arrived.
Directing them to remain there till signaled, and to keep an outlook from the brow of the hill overlooking Baconsville, two miles away, he bravely rode thitherward entirely unattended, notwithstanding the earnest protestations of his numerous friends.
“So brave a man who can decline such entreaties to drink, and as gracefully as the General did, ought to be at the head of a temperance society,” said a young man, lounging near the church.
“That’s so, Jimminy!” replied a comrade. “Wonder if he isn’t.”
“I’m afraid not. I suppose he takes his wine, and probably something stronger sometimes; though he wants a coolhead now. I wish those fellows over there wouldn’t drink so. I’m for breaking up the nigger militia; but we want cool heads for it. We canscarethe niggers out of it if we work it right, and all keep sober.”
“That’s what I think, but you see already how it will be. I would go home and give it up, but they’ll say I was afraid. I don’t want to get into no collisions with the United States, for my part; and if a lot of them get drunk, I’m afraid something will be done that will lead to that.”
Less than half a mile from where this conversation was passing, Harry Gaston sat in his shady porch.
“Don’t set there doing nothing but watching,” said a tall lean young woman who sat just inside of the door, busying herself by rocking in an easy chair. “The General will think yo’ reckon on ’im awfully, an’ he’s conceited enough now, mercy knows! There, take them old papers of yo’re uncle’s, and make as if yo’ was studying politics on yo’ own hook;” and she tossed a handful of newspapers upon the floor beside him.
He took up a copy of that celebrated democratic organ of the South, the CharlestonNews and Courier, dated May, 1875, and read—
“Governor Chamberlain richly deserves the confidence of the people of this State. The people of South Carolina, who have all at stake, who see and hear what persons outside the State cannot know, are satisfied with his honesty. They believe in him as well they may.”
“Bah! the contemptible carpet-bagger!” said Gaston,dashing the paper on the floor; and picking up another, dated February, 1876, he read again—
“We believe that, without regard to consequences or to his party, he (the Governor) will go on in the narrow path of right.”
Another—“January, 1876. In South Carolina the conspicuous leader in the fight for reform, the one man who has made reform possible at an early day, is Governor Chamberlain, whose election was the greatest blessing in disguise that this people has ever known.”
“The greatest curse!” exclaimed Gaston kicking the paper off the porch.
“That theCourier?” drawled Mrs. Gaston. “I thought that used to be the best paper in the South—true to the Confederacy all through the war. Has it gone over to the Radicals?”
“It don’t pretend so, but it has been bribed, I reckon.”
A voice from the highway, now called the husband away to hold a brief colloquy with General Baker.
“My horse is very tired and warm, and I myself am in need of refreshment; so, Mr. Gaston, I shall be obliged if you will strike across the fields and notify your father-in-law of my arrival, and bring him and your brother-in-law, Tom, to the store of Mr. Dunn to meet me for conference about the suit we have in hand,” and the great man drove on.
“Mary, General Baker wants me to go across the fields to your father’s for him,” said the young man, with a demure countenance, on re-entering the house.
“Well, I reckon yo’ won’t do no such a thing!” she replied, forcibly. “A mighty easy thing it would be for some nigger to pop you over, and nobody to see. Yo’ won’t go that way.”
“I’ll just gallop down the other road and get to the village ahead o’ the General; Tom’s thar’, we can go together after the old man; though I a’n’t afraid of the niggers.”
“See! see! Meester Dunn,” said that worthy’s helpful “frau,” as they sat at their dinner in a room immediately in the rear of their grocery. “Dar is Shinneral Paker from Enefield, an’ er pe shtopping right here! Pe quick, now. My laws! but dis vill pe ine goot ebening by de bar! De Shenneral shtop ’ere, an’ all de gem’mans and companies come, too! Hurry, now Shorge!”
“Dat alle right now. I fix ’m mit ole Bob gester-tag,” said the shrewd though moderate husband, George, arising from the table, and shuffling through the glass door by which the dining-room and grocery (or more accuratelygroggery), communicated, he greeted the great military dignity with a volume of broken English that was almost incomprehensible.
Shaking the dust from his apparel, the distinguished guest ordered food and drink for his beast, after time given him to cool; adding that he would refresh himself while waiting for the appearance of his clients.
“Alle right! alle right! De ole voman vill serve you,” replied Dunn, as he followed his colored servant and the weary horse to the stables.
Gaston and Tommy were by this time crossing the great truck-farm of Robert Baker, every rood of which was purchased with the earnings of trained blood-hounds, chasing fugitives from justice or labor, and mainly the latter.
In a sag of land, between the hills on the right and the river on the left, was a brickyard, in the office of which Mr. Robert Baker and his son Hanson were found.
The four men were soonen routefor Baconsville. A colored boy, bound apprentice to the older Baker, skulked along the crooked fence by the wayside.
“Joe,” said the old man, stopping the horse, “Joe, come here.” The personal appearance and reputation of the old man, and recollections of a recent chastisement for drumming for the militia company, made little Joe’s dark skin quiver as he timidly approached the vehicle.
“Get in,” said the same gruff voice, as room was made for the child at Baker’s feet, where he gathered himself into the smallest possible ball, from which two great, soft, timid eyes looked from one face to another, and from the two glittering guns of the young men who rode on either side, and the pistol-shaped lumps on the left breasts of their thin coats, to the breasts of the two men fronting him in the carriage, where he could see two more bright and shining “nine-shooters” peeping out.
The wind presently raised a paper from a basket standing beside him, and disclosed two great horse-pistols lying on a clean white napkin.
“I wonder is dey gwoine to shoot Doc and Watta widdem ’ar’, as Ned Dunn said dey is?” thought the child. “Dat looks like dar’s a mighty nice lunch undah ’em, anyhow?”
Hanson Baker jerked the lap-robe from his knees, and covered the basket from view.
They soon reached Dunn’s store, and alighted, and removing the basket, bade Joe return with the horse and carriage, and remember to stay there closely.
As they sat in close conversation in the back part of that groggery, while the General partook of the “nice lunch” the basket did contain, it was plain that “Old Bob Baker, the slave catcher,” and the aristocratic General had little in common except their patronymic and their political opinions and ideas.