"Oh de way's so delightful when I sarves de Lord,Oh de way's so delightful, journey on."
"Oh de way's so delightful when I sarves de Lord,Oh de way's so delightful, journey on."
As the sun was going down the old Colonel looked across the field and saw Joshua and Hannah with great bundles upon their heads coming toward the mansion—coming back to the old home; coming back to be just as humble, just as faithful, just as watchful as in the happy old days; coming back to run errands if need be, with joints stiffened by hardships and old age, but with hearts so light and trustful; coming back like homing pigeons to roost under old master's wing in the dove cote. Was there ever such a people before? The sweetest experience in the domesticity of the South will vanish forever when the last old white woolly head is laid low, when the ghostly smile is given to old mistress from the death bed, and the last good-bye is said to "ole marser und ole missis" as the death film overlays the eye. "Tak keer ob yosefs, ole marser und ole missis, und meet me up yander." So thought the old master as with liquid eyes he looked upward to the vaulted sky.
"Seben weeks" the old negro weighted down by the ever accumulating burdens of life—its disappointments, its troubles—had with unsteady gait and frequent halts stepped off each rod and furlong twixt "my house und de sto, backards und forards, toting de jimmyjon und de happy-sak.""Fur seben weeks" the torrid sun with its blistering heat had scorched the old negro's head, and crisped the old negro's black skin until it was spotted. For seven weeks a vacuum deep and broad lay between the inner coatings of the famished stomach immeasurable and unfathomable. For seven weeks "Old Glory" waved its welcome at one end of the commissariat, and stark, pallid want walked out without a ration and flaunted its rags at the other. Poor old negro, but what worth is freedom without its pains and penalties; what worth is the huge commissariat without the freedmen, and what worth is the freedmen without the commissariat? Oh how happy the old negro in "de offis of ole marser." By fits and starts old Joshua would awake throughout the nights and call to Hannah, "Ole womun, duz yer kno whar yer is a roosting to night? Aint agwine to de crick fur catfish in de mornin. I kno whar my wittles is er cummin frum, bress de Lord. Cum rain ur shine, I haint nebber agwine hongry agin, no mo. Old marsa dun und said, ole nigger yer shall nebber want fur sumfing to eat und sumfing to ware no mo, und I nebber cotched ole Mars Jon in a lie yit. Has yu, Hanner?"
"No, dat I haint, nur Miss Alice nudder," replied Hannah. "I haint got no mo skeer erbout me, Joshaway, dan a billy gote. I kno's when Miss Alice flings a dumplin in de pot for hersef, she is agwine to fling wun in dare fur me too."
"Pears lak, Hanner, I kin heer my stummick ebery now und den nachully singing de ole ship ob Zion, hit is so full ob ole marser's good wittles."
Bright and early the next morning the old negro was standing in the wide open door of the office, swinging his arms in exercise like a prize fighter, and occasionally "cuttin de piggen whing out of doors," as he said, "dat yung misses mout see how he could twist his foots erbout." As hewas skipping about the yard he discovered as it were, a moccasin snake; a red, white, and blue stake about two feet long in the ground near the office, and he knew what it was and called in a fit of rage to Hannah. "Jess cum und see what dem dratted niggers has dun gon und dun. Lord a massy! Duz dem pizened willians fink dey kin oberride dis here plantashun wid me, und Ned, und ole marsa, und yung misses, und yu und Claissy a fendin for deselvs? I'se agwine to lode up my muskit dis bery nite, und de fust nigger dat cums pestering our white fokses on dis here lan, I'se agwine to shoot two pounds of hot led into his karkas. Tak dis ole streked striped stick, Hanner, und burn it up," and he jerked the peg out of the ground as if it had been an aching molar in his gum, and threw it violently into the fire-place.
"Who upon de yurth did fetch dese pizened stiks on dis lan? I'm ergwine er roun dis yer plantashun, und maybe I'll fine sum mo ob de ring-streeked-und-striped things, er painted jes like 'ole Glory' out yander in de town, jes ter fool niggers und git dem sassinated lak er passel o' polecats."
While Joshua was making the "grand rounds" over the plantation a carriage with a pair of beautiful, high-stepping horses rolled up to the door, and two "gemmen of culler" alighted and walked with unnatural dignity to the door and rang the bell. Clarissa, of course, obeyed the call, and in their presence was so bewildered that she asked them into the library. Placing into her hands their cardsde visite, upon which were written the names of the "Hon. Alexander Wiggins" and the "Hon. Ephraim Gillam," she carried them to Colonel Seymour.
Instantly the devil was aroused in the old man, and he told Clarissa to tell them to get out of the house.
Clarissa, in executing the order, said, "Ole marser says how dat yu niggers must go back out er doors. Jes tak yosef outen dis house immegit." Then upon recognizing one of the negroes, she enquired, "Haint dat yer Ellick, wid dem fine close und shoes, und gold specks, und bever hat, comin into dis house lak yer was a king, or a gineral, or sumfing I don't kno what? What is yer doing here in ole marser's house, anyhow? I specks yer is up to sum devilment rate now."
"My name is not Ellic, replied the negro, und I am not up to devilment. I am de prieter ob dis manshun house, und my stinguished friend, Mr. Ephrum Gillum und me, hez cum to sarv a rit ob jectment upon Mr. Semo fortwid."
"Lord hab marcy upon my soul!" exclaimed Clarissa in great excitement, "Ef yer sarves dat dar fing on ole marsa, dares gwine to be a ressurreckshun in dis grate house fortwid, yer haint agwine to lib to git bak to town. You und dat udder nigger better tak yerselvs offen dis lan fore marser sees yer; he spises yer worse den eny mocksin snake in de crick, und yer nose it."
"Ah, well," the negro replied arrogantly, "Yu jess gib him dis writ ob 'jectment und tell him dat Mr. Wiggins und his lady will return ter-morrer ebenin at ate o'clock und tak persesshun, und see dat yu prepars a bed in de best chamber in dis mansion fur him."
"Jes yer fling dat pizen fing on de flo. I aint ergwine ter mess my hans up wid no sich nasty trash, und yer tak yersefs offen here—don't I'm agwine ter set Jube on yer, yer hateful creetur. Ugh! ef yer gits anyfing pared on dis plantashun hit's ergwine ter be a ded-fall ter kill yu cussed niggers. Dat's de bed yer is ergwine ter git ter morrer at ate o'clock, 'member dat! Ugh! I speckswhen dat time cums yer will be ded und gon rite strait ter torment."
Clarissa seized the tongs and prodded the document upon the floor as if it had been a tarantula, then holding it at arm's length, muttering the while like a savage, brought it to Colonel Seymour with the observation,
"Mars Jon, yer mout as well gib up dis grate house und de plantashun, too, to de stinkin, outdashus niggers, don't dey is ergwine ter tarrify de life outen yer, und me too."
To this the old man deigned no reply, but unfolding the paper and reading it, he concluded there was but one thing to be done. For one-third of a century he had been a highly respected communicant in the Episcopal church; orthodox and consistent in his views and observances, but upon reading the insulting document he swore like "our army in Flanders."
"Clarissa," he exclaimed, "bring me my pistols. I will defend my own with my life, and"—
"Mars Jon," interrupted Clarissa, "I'se skeert ob dem dar shootin iruns. What is yer ergwine ter do, ole marser? Is yer ergwine ter hab a resurreckshun in de grate house? Sposin yer und young missis gits kilt—whot in de name ob Gawd is ergwine ter cum ob tother ones? Sarve Ellick rite ef he gits masskreed; but sposin yer und Ned gits kilt, whot is ergwine ter cum ob me und Miss Alice? Yer is too brash, ole marser."
The old soldier was quiet for a moment, and then he called Ned to him.
"Yes, Mars Jon, here I is, sar. Whot yer want now, Mars John?" Ned asked humbly.
"Go and tell Mr. Jake Flowers to come here at once."
"Sartinly, Sar, mejitly, Mars Jon."
And in a short time Mr. Flowers, accompanied by Ned, saluted the Colonel with,
"What are your orders for to-day, sir?"
Now, thought the Colonel, I shall marshal a force more terrible than an army with banners. I shall recruit my regiment from the "Invincible Empire," and I shall tear down and let them reconstruct if they can. "We will march to victory under the flag of the 'White Camelia,' shall we not, Mr. Flowers?" asked the Colonel.
"Well, when I wants to play demnation wid ther niggers, I don't fight under no other," was the sententious answer of the regulator.
"Come into my library a moment, sir."
As the regulator was ambling along he put his two fingers to his mouth and accidentally(?) expectorated "ambeer" in the eye of old Jupiter, the fox hound, which set up a prolonged howl and caused Clarissa to exclaim with great warmth;
"Mars Jon, did yer see dat ou'dashus white man a spettin dat dar backer juce in ole Jube's tother eye? Wun ob dem is outen now, und I specks dat fafefulest ole dorg will go plum blind. He is de fafefulest creetur on dis hole plantashun. Po' ole Jube! Nebber mind, Clarsy is ergwine ter set yer on dat speckled-face white man when he cums outen dat do, und is ergwine ter give yu sum mo wittles ef yer chaws him good. Po' ole Jube!" And Clarissa walked back into the kitchen with Jube following her, with the further observation, "Twixt de niggers und de low-down white trash I haint got no chusen—hit's a half duzzen wun way und a half duzzen tother way, und de debbil tak de diffunce."
The Colonel drew a chair up to the table and asked the regulator to be seated.
"Tomorrow night at eight o'clock sharp I willtake possession of Ingleside, peaceably if I can, forcibly if I must."
"When the Prince of the Thebaird sent this message to the queen of lower Egypt, "Tomorrow I will knock at the door of your palace with the hilt of my spear," she returned this warning, "And I will welcome you with bloody hands, and the crocodiles of the Nile shall devour your carcass."
"What shall be our message, Mr. Flowers?"
The regulator thought a little dreamily for awhile, and then with the usual squint in the right eye replied drowsily,
"Wall, thar is two ways to kill a nigger unbeknownst to him. I kin ku-klux him, or I kin strike him with forked litenin; but I haint got ammunition enuff to kill a hole passul at wunce."
The Colonel unfolded and laid upon the table a large sheet of paper, such as engineers use in diagramming, and began in a perfunctory way to mark off lines, angles, eccentric and concentric figures, until he fixed the point of his pencil suspiciously at the upper abutment of a bridge that spanned a rivulet, with this remark,
"Just here, sir, must be the point of attack. This is the only defensible position upon the plantation. If the malicious negroes pass this bridge, all is lost. Now, my friend," he continued, "heroic diseases must be healed with heroic remedies. You and I are old soldiers. Up and down the Chickahominy our army would have been tin soldiers but for our sappers and miners. Now you may sap and mine to your heart's content," he said jocularly. "Do you understand, Mr. Flowers?"
"No, not eggzactly," replied Flowers. "Dos yer want ther cussed niggers drounded?" he asked.
"No, only frightened so they will let me alone," replied the Colonel.
"Frightened!" ejaculated the regulator. "Wall, fokeses in gineral gits frightened before they gits drounded, don't they? If I don't mistrust you, Kernel, you wants the bridge upsot, and then you wants the kerridge upsot, and then you wants the blamed niggers upsot, altogether in the crick."
"If in your opinion my language bears that construction, you may proceed," said the Colonel.
"Eggzactly so," replied the regulator. "I may percede with another percession and a funeral at the tail eend of it. Eight o'clock, sharp!" reiterated the regulator, and waving his hand backwards at the old man in the verandah, cried back, "I will be thar or thar abouts," took his leave.
Clarissa tried to sick "ole Jube" on the regulator as he passed through the gate, but the old dog looked sheepishly into Clarissa's face and wagged his tail, as much as to say, "Ef yer wants enybody sicked on dat white man, jes sick yersef."
Nero never planned the destruction of Rome, nor Titus the destruction of Jerusalem with a more implacable spirit then did the regulator the destruction of the upper abutment of the wooden bridge on the Ingleside plantation. As the bold man stood upon the bridge contemplating the work to be done, and then upon the cold full orbed moon bathing its face in light, cumulus clouds, and then on the cold waters, he said to himself; "A soldier boy that can climb the elements in the Crater fight and butt his head agin the stars, aint pestered by little diffikilties when it comes to drownin niggers."
He threw off his coat, took up the crowbar and went to work. The apron was then propped up upon skids too weak to bear the weight of a carriage, but so skillfully as to ward off suspicion in case the structure or any part of it should fall. At 7:30 sharp the work was done and completely done,the pitfall was laid, and well laid, and at 7:40 a black cavalcade, noisy and ruffianly, were galloping on the way to take by force actual possession of Ingleside, against the emphatic protest of its owner and against the law of the land. They were marching with their trombones and their flags, flags striped and starred, just like the one that laughed in the faces of the starved negroes that marched in platoons, desperately hungry, out of the back doors of the Commissariat. Just like the one ruffian Laflin wrapped about his beastly person when he said to poor oppressed Seymour, "My freedmen may make reprisals whenever they please in this accursed country." Just like the flag that waved from the stern sheets of the batteau, that cold sleety night, when Washington was cutting the ice out of his way upon the Delaware. Just like the "Old Glory" that Ethan Allen wound around his head at Ticonderoga. Just like the flag that thrilled every heart, that Philip Barton Key immortalized in the first battle hymn of the Republic.
"Tis the Star Spangled Banner long may it wave,Over the land of the free and the home of the brave."
"Tis the Star Spangled Banner long may it wave,Over the land of the free and the home of the brave."
"Ah, no," the Southern patriot would say "Our hot sun has tarnished its bright stars, has made black and dingy the blue field, and see! it is blushing ever so red, as it is made to accentuate the horrors of reconstruction." But the flags were coming, so were the horses, and so were the negroes, and so were the trombones, and so was death, each in a vain attempt to bridge the chasm before 8 o'clock sharp. Ah, that crash, that shriek, that doom! The affrightened horses break from the descending carriage and scamper like zebras into the open fields of Ingleside. The uniformed escort turn their horses heads and scamper toward the town, even the trombones have ceased to soundnow, but there are echoing hoofs, and there are the wails of the dying, coming up from the darkened abyss, and the moon is still bathing its face in the watery clouds overhead. What! art thou a prophetess, Clarissa, that thou shouldst have said "I specks when dat time cums yer will be ded and gone rate strait to torment?"
The revolutionary iconoclasts had fully established their sway in the worst and most irritating forms; their resources, directed by irresponsible and offensive authority—controlling the fortunes, hopes and fate of all classes—ramified and extended throughout the South. Mountebanks sat in judgment upon the lives and liberties of a vanquished people; everywhere violating all the guaranties of freedom. The alarming vibrations of this unhallowed power were felt in every home. It was a matter of anxious and fearful thought, "What must be the result of collisions that are sure to come?" It were vain to threaten consequences badgered as the people were into passive submission by a power that ruled supreme—a power that was conducting its operations with unmeasured cruelty wherever the ill-starred Confederacy had raised its hated crest. Retaliation swift and sure pursued a few of the misguided negroes whose black hands were upraised to smite the South. Now and then, under the shadow of the citadel that was garrisoned by the pensioned slaves, the victims of the murderous knife or deadly bullet would be found. Hence the South was the harvest field for the functionaries who delighted in the sudden visitations of Providence, and who looked for the vultures upon circling pinions above the river as couriers of cheering messages; in the language of the negroes, as the "sky sheruffs" who served due notice upon the oppressed taxpayers of this patronizing government of the freedmen.
By a custom that obtained very generally in the South in the post-bellum days, there was a division of offices inequitably made, however, between the carpet-baggers and the negroes; and to the negroes was assigned among others of inconsiderable revenue, the office of county coroner. This office for many generations before the war was a sinecure, but a pictorial page now appears in the history of reconstruction, electrotyped in disgusting caricatures. The office of coroner was constructed out of a mediæval original; it was both ancient and honorable—a remnant of the feudal system that superseded other forms of government in Europe before and since the crusade. So considerable were its revenues and dignity, that the lords chief justices of the King's Bench of England coveted and enjoyed its emoluments and title; and to descend from an antiquity so dignified and remote, from bewigged and begowned lords justices to 15th amendment freedmen, was quite a sheer descent. But reconstruction came with fantastical ideals; with its own peculiar and irritating forms and institutions, and the political fabric was ludicrously inverted and the freedmen appeared to walk through the air on stilts.
When post-mortem investigations were exceedingly rare in a county that boasted of its healthfulness and its obedience to law, the per diem of the coroner was fixed by legislative enactment to ten dollars, with certain enumerated charges, such as summoning, swearing and empanelling the jury of inquest. But now there was an epidemic of accidental deaths in this phenomenal era. Among the negroes the most natural thing was to die—to die from exposure, from starvation, and sometimes from heroic doses of manhood suffrage. They died in the river, in the creek, in the lowgrounds. Old Uncle Elijah Thorpe, the coroner, would sit moodilyby the hour on his dilapidated stoop, intently gazing into the firmament above him for the appearance of "de sky shurruff," and when the circling scavengers of the country would flap and dip their pinions below the fringe of the cypresses that bordered the river, his spirits would revive, and refreshing smiles would play hide and seek in the black caverns of his face.
The old coroner like Judge Blackstock, appeared to be the "survival of the fittest." He had come out of the toils of slavery with his hair as white as the snow, and with lines in his black face as if a "new ground plow" had been running furrows into it. He was an old man when the great guns were celebrating the emancipation of four million slaves. He was an old man when the bosses placed into his horny, gouty hand the elective franchise. He was an old man when he looked out one night, when the stars were twinkling in the mid-heavens, and saw the luminary of freedom with its bewildering corruscations. He was the advanced guard of the freedmen who welcomed the agent of the bureau with waving of hats and clapping of resounding hands. He was the file leader of Laflin's black reinforcements. When Elijah began to grow rich out of the spoils of his office he observed in a confidential way to Laflin,
"Ef de niggers keeps er gitten sassinated lak deys agwine on und de jurer don't gin out, dis heer Soufland is agwine ter be a sametary from one eend to de tother; the buzzards is lak a passel ob rode hands er cummin und agwine," and then to disarm the carpet-bagger's cupidity he continued with a lugubrious cast of countenance, "By de time I gits de rashuns from de kommissery und de sperrits fur de jurer dars a mity leetle spec left ob de poreseeds. De pay boss haint ekal to de sponsuality of de offis."
These post-mortem inquiries, like all other functions of the time, presented most ridiculous contrasts. While the circling carrion crows were looking for dead negroes in the river and swamps, the negro women in the cabins and kitchens were watching the movements of the coroner; and whenever the public became advised "dat de corps ob humans was to be sot upon" if the news came in the dead of the night, an outcry would go from cabin to cabin; dusky faces would appear at dirty windows and an inquiry in staccato from some sister would arouse her neighbour.
"Oh! Sophia Ann, has yu heerd de news, or is yu pine blank ded? De crowner has dun und put de saddle on ole 'sametary' und de saddle-bags und de jimmyjon too, und agwine ter set on er corps fortwid."
"Hush! sister Becky," would come the answer; "Aint you got anudder tack of hystericks;" and rayless jaundiced lights would appear in windows; then the screeching of fowls in the coops, then pots would simmer and boil; then little Bill would be jerked out of bed with the angry exclamation, "Fore de King, I believes dis heer yungun would sleep clar froo de jedgment day und wudn't heer nary trumpet. Git outen heer yu Bill und fetch dat ar steer und de kaart fore de door fortwid." And then Bill, yawning and gaping and grunting, and twisting his arms over his black head, would stagger with tangled feet to the stable and command,
"Cum outen dis heer door ole Linkum fore I whacks yu ober de hed wid dis heer palin." And then old Linkum would toss his head and start towards Bill with a boo—o-o and then back into his stall with another boo-oo, and then Maria would shout from the kitchen,
"Yu Bill has yu und ole Linkum gone plum tersleep? Why don't yu fetch dat aggrawating steer outen dar?" And then she would turn to pack away the pies and chickens in the basket, and then ole Linkum and Bill and Maria and "Ladybird," the ugly fice dog, would be reinforced upon the road by a picturesque caravan. There would be women and children of all sizes, ages and conditions; then the hard cider carts, fakirs and pie women, then the old parson and the deacons and the singing sisters, then the man with a hand organ and a monkey, then a score of yelping hounds, curs and fices, then the coroner in battered beaver and green goggles, astride his flopped-eared, flee-bitten mule, "ole Samitary," all with laughter, jest and song hurrying to the scene of the catastrophe; while the poor misguided subjects of the investigation would be staring with great lack-lustre eyes into the sky.
Upon this occasion the rising sun as he passed through the mist veiled his face from a spectacle terribly ghastly. Four black corpses in silks and satins and tawdry lace, with upturned faces, lay rigid with a seasaw motion in the ooze and water; and a huge black object, like the back of a leviathan with striped banners in his nostrils, dammed up the stream that flowed with a sluggish current from the river. This then was the end of the carnival; the due return upon the writ of ejectment.
What utopian dreams were whispered into ears into which the eddying waters were intoning a refrain! Shall the mistress of Ingleside descend into this cold, forbidding flood with the keys of her broad domain, and place them as a symbolical delivery of title into hands so rigid and nerveless, that never guarded its portals with one night's vigil? Shall the officers of the law, under these broken arches, endorse a due return upon the writ of ejectment? When we see the star spangledbanner down there, dyeing the waters as it seemed with blood, "with the Union" down, does it bind us to an allegiance to the powers that sent these outlaws upon their mission of assassination.
Joshua was very wretched when he heard of the horrifying disaster that overreached the human beagles that were pursuing their quarry so heartlessly. Old negroes like Joshua and Ned were fast becoming disillusioned; they had danced attendance to Laflin and his pampered slaves when they were desperately hungry; they had marched and counter marched, when from sheer weakness they could scarcely keep step to the fife and drum; they had seen the hollow pageantry; had heard the discordant fanfares from brazen trumpets; the mockery of commands to "fall in" and to "fall out;" indeed they had been lashed to the treadmill of fatiguing servitude when there wasn't a bazaar or a sutler's shop into which they could enter and beg a morsel of bread; and when they "broke ranks" there wasn't a ration of meat or flour distributed to the old hulks that were to all intents and purposes out of commission. Joshua felt that all the events and catastrophes of this mortal life were in some mysterious way the annotations of Sacred Writ, and hence as he clothed himself in the spic-span homespun garments that Alice had given him, he said to his wife,
"Now eff I kin ever find my old bever, und my specks, I'm agwine to ax Miss Alice what de scriptur says erbout dis insurreckshun. Cording to my membrance when de Mallyskites flung ole Farro outen de charryot into de sea, dat Fillisten ginril was imitating Ellick in his devilishness; haint dat scriptur, Hannah?"
Hannah looked up from her wash-board with earnestness and with just a suggestion of temper as she observed:
"Whicherway in de scriptur duz yu find dat passage? Cordin to my membrance dare want none of dem charryots in dem deys epsepting Lijah's, und hit warn't hitched to no hosses."
As Joshua was going toward the mansion he said to himself, "Dey is agwine to spishun ole marsa wid killing dem niggers, und den de werry ole harrykin is gwine to brake loose in dis plantashun. Grate Jarryko! Ef it cums to de wursest me und Ned und Clarsy und Hanna is agwine to stan twixt him und dem twell de eend."
It appears to be exclusively the prerogative of women to be the burden bearers for others; assuredly this virtue was heroically exercised by the beautiful girl, whose heart was all sympathy for the misguided wretches. Not one thought, not a care, for her poor, defenceless self; all for the negroes who were drunken upon the lees of reconstruction, the poor slaves of a power they dared not oppose.
"Uncle Joshua," she asked in tears "Have you heard the sad fate of Aleck and Ephraim?"
"Yes, marm, I dun und heerd de news dis mornin fo sun up, und I'm missurble fur yer und ole marsa, missis. Dis werry sassinashun cum to my membrunce las nite twixt lebben 'clock und day, und when hit wuz fust norated er roun, I ses ter Hanner, sez I, Dar now! I spishuned dat werry axydent wuz ergwine ter happ'n. Und Hanner she ups und sez, sez she, 'How cum yer node mo dan tuther humans? Is yer er possel ur a wangel?' Und den I upped und tole her, und hit cum erbout in disser fashun, missis: A bitter sadness lay upon my piller las nite, yung missis, und way in de shank o' de nite I seed yo precious mammy, und she wur er weepin lak her po hart wud brake, und I sed to her, sez I, 'Ole missis, haint dat yu?' Und den she smoled one leetle smole, und den she sed,sez she, 'Ole nigger, I'm so missurble, for my dear husbun und my preshus child are in danger; won't yu help em?' Und den she pinted her lily finger down de appenu toards de crick, and den I heerd her say, sez she, 'Rite dare is whar de niggers is ergwine ter kill my po dears;' und den she banished lak a sperret outen my site. Fo Gawd, yung missis, dem dar wurds sont a shower ob isickles all ober me."
This simple, affecting narrative chilled the heart of poor Alice, too, and her grief became as frigid as if smitten by polar frosts.
Oh, what would Alice give for the reign of peace, of law in this Idumea of the South! "Why prepare these watery sepulchres for the freedmen whose hopes have been built upon their delusive pledges? Why starve and drown them as if they were vermin, without aspirations and without souls? Who can excel these authors of misrule in the fine art of assassination?" she asked.
Clarissa stood at the side of her young mistress, whilst Joshua, as if by inspiration, was narrating the vision of the night. She was transfixed with terror, and shaking from head to foot she exclaimed:
"Bress Gawd! dis is de eend ob hit all—fust cums de belliun, den de hosses und de charryot, den def!"
"Stop rite dar! Stop rite dar, Clarsy! Nary nudder wurd," exclaimed Joshua with emphasis. "Don't de scriptur say how dat whot is ergwine ter cum is ergwine ter cum? Und ef hit haint er gwine ter cum hit haint ergwine ter cum; why, in cose; ef me und Ned hez ary grane ob spishun erbout Miss Alice und ole marser, me und him is ergwine to uprare a barrykade rite at de grate house, und dey will be drib back lak de Mallyskites. Yu jess hole yer gripe upon Proverdenseund grace, Clarsy, und den we kin fling de charryots und de hosses in de creek agen, und ole marser und yung missis will be saved."
"Grate king!" replied Clarissa, still greatly alarmed. "Yu mout ez well uprare dat barrykade rite now; kase when dem niggers sees dese drounded corpses er see-sawin in de creek, day is ergwine ter cum down on dis hear grate house same ez de yaller flies on dem pided steers out yander in de mash."
"Yu is too brash, sister," replied Joshua. "I haint ergwine ter hab dem debbils spishunin dat dar's a trap sot fo I gits hit sot. When de moon gits back yander hind de trees hit will be sot, und I aims fur yu ter pull de trigger."
"Oh, my king!" blurted out Clarissa, as she wrung her hands, "und sposin hit don't go off ur nuffin; den whot? Dis heer po nigger wud immytate wun ob dem sojers dat wuz dug outen de krater way ole Mars Jon got his def wound. Ef dat ar trap is sot its bleeged ter be upsot by sumbody dat's got mo ambishun agen his kuller dan I is, yu heers my racket!" exclaimed Clarissa in great excitement.
Joshua was the first to interview the dead bandits. I can see him squatted upon his haunches with palsied finger pointed at the fishy eyes exclaiming;
"Dar now square Wiggins jess see what yu is fotched up agen at las. I dun und tole yu so; now haint yu dun und dun it er trying to skeer ole marser outen de grate house; mout heb node yu was ergwine to git obertook by sum jedgment ur udder. I don't spishun nuffin else dat fo dis devilish konstruckshun is dun wid, dare haint ergwine to be er live nigger in de Nunited States; und de biggerty niggers like yu und Efrum is ergwine to mak hit wusser fur tuther fokeses. Yu dun unddun de wussest fing yu ebber dun in yo born days, when yu sot down in dat dare kerrige wid all dem flags er flying at de hine eend lak er sho nuff surkuss; und deres yo po innosen wife er follerin yu backards und furrards lak yu was ole Farro kommandin de yurth, er lying down dare same as a drownded warmint in de crick, und her po leetle yunguns crying mammy! mammy! und all dun und dun kase yu started a hullyberlo erbout ole marser's plantashun; wurf mo den all de dratted niggers big und leetle on de top side of de yurth; und kase yu fotched ole Shurmun's army wid dare muskits in de ded ob de nite to tak ole marser und yung missis ded er live. I nebber seed er nigger lak yu play biggerty dat de good Lord didn't slam to de yurth wid his jedgments. Pend 'pon it de Lord is gwine to git de under holt ebery time." And all the time Aleck lay with great lack-lustre eyes staring and grinning at Joshua. "Und yu is down dare too Efrum wid dem yaller upperlips, pine plank lak de sun flowers in de jam of Hanna's gyarden er bobbin up und down same as a kildee in de mash; und boff of yu er smokin in de tarnel hell farr. Und all cum erbout kase dere's too much freedum in de lan. I nebber seed a drounded nigger fore de bellion fell in all my born days, and now yer kaint fro yer hook in de crick fur a catfish yer aint skeered yu mout git tangled up wid a drounded nigger."
Joshua paused to wipe the perspiration from his face with his ragged coat sleeve, and the great black crowd moved as by a common impulse to the brink of the stream and gazed with a contrariety of emotions upon the drowned negroes. The goggle eyed coroner with his beaver in his hand stepped a little to the front and commanded attention.
"Breddin," he said, "dars a time to live und dars a time to die, und ef I must spaciate upon def befodis conjugation I mout say dat he cums in a heap aways und a heap er fashuns; den agin he cums when he hedn't ought ter cum. He cum dis time when he hedn't ought ter cum und he hes flung de hole goverment out of jint."
"Und I specks de boss will be bleeged ter mak a signment ob de assets of North Caliny. Fur de lans sake," exclaimed Joshua, "let me git wun moufful ef she's agwine to bust." Without noting the interruption, however, the coroner proceeded:
"I'm agwine ter ax brudder Skyles de slidin elder to lead us all in prayer, und ter bless de Lord dat de crowner und jurer is rite heer to sympathize with our bereaved friends in the bonds of iniquity."
Aleck and his ill fated friends were still sea-sawing in the water and after the prayer the man with the hand organ and the monkey began to play in squeaky, stridulous tones "The girl I left behind me."
Joshua the octogenarian, was among the men who were chosen upon the jury.
"Now den what is yer gemman gwine ter side erbout dese drounded corpses?" asked the coroner. There was a long painful pause when a very venerable negro confronted the coroner with this enquiry;
"I rises to a question ob pribilige sar. I wishes to quire, ef a crowbar mout be er witniss in his own beharf, sar?"
"Sartanly sar, sartanly," answered the coroner:
"How is yer agwine to swar hit?" he continued.
"Now yer oversizes my siggassity sar; yer axes pine blank" said the coroner, raising his spectacles with great dignity, "'How dis jurer is agwine to swar a crowbar;' is dat hit?"
"Yas sar," replied the negro.
"What sez yer gemman ob de jurer to dis qustun,"asked the coroner. After laying their heads together, a juror pompously observed.
"Dat he hed seed a horg crost questuned in de kote, und he convicted de prisner."
"Were he a white man?" the jury asked.
"No sar, dat time de prisoner was a cullud gemman sar."
"Aye, Aye," they exclaimed in chorus.
"Und de nex time I seed a pare of galluses convict a prisner."
"Was he a cullud gemman?" again they asked.
"No sar, he were a po white man."
"Jess so, Jess so," they again exclaimed with infinite satisfaction.
"Fetch dat crowbar in heer und tell where yer git him," said the coroner.
"I scovered him under de bridge," the negro answered.
"Whose name is dat, sar?' the coroner asked pointing to the letters J. W. S. chiseled into the iron handle.
"Haint dat Semo's name?" he again asked.
"It ar" answered a juror.
"Constable," the coroner stormed with wrath, "Yer fech dat white man fo me, ded er live, und summuns de possy common ta ters to go wid yer sar. Und bredden," he continued, "we'll pass de jimmyjon und tak a swipe while wee's erwaiting fur de prisner."
Clarissa looked out of the kitchen window and descried the negro constable and his posse advancing rapidly toward the mansion. With her hands just out of the kneaded flour she ran frantically to her young mistriss with the exclamation,
"Lord have mercy, Miss Alice, yander cums ole Shermans army; de plantashun is black und blu wid niggers wid der muskits," "Oh, my Lord have mussy on us."
Alice though greatly alarmed, replied as calmly as possible,
"Dont you know Clarissa, we have never harmed these people. Do you think they will kill us in cold blood. Where is father? Come father, come Clarissa, we will go into the verandah and meet them, kindly face to face. Come, father, I know you are brave—and you are a Christian. If they have come to murder us—there is but a pang and all will be over. In a moment we shall forget our griefs, our humiliations. Let us clasp hands and die altogether."
The negro constable observing the distress of the family and wishing for the time being to avoid excitement, halted his gang at the gate and advanced to the old man with his warrant.
"Mr. Semo," said he, "Yer is scused of ferociously homisiden de corpses in de crick und I'm sent to fetch yer to de crowner."
"All right I will accompany you," the old man said with resignation.
Poor Alice clung to her father's neck crying as if her heart would break, and spoke pleadingly to the negro.
"May I not go with my father? May I not die with him? Oh, my dear, dear father. I cannot bear the separation, the suspense. Please, please Mr. Constable let my father remain here and let me suffer and die for him."
"Oh my daughter, my child," petulantly cried the old man, "this will not do." "Dry your tears my dear child and be assured that the coroner cannot do me harm. If he shall find me guilty, I shall remain in jail only to-morrow. The court convenes on Monday next when I shall be discharged and return home. Give me a kiss now, and remember dear, that your father is safe: Good-bye, God bless you."
As Joshua, a juror, saw the feeble old man with great effort advancing with the negro posse, he began to shed tears and covered his furrowed face with his old beaver:
"Po Mars Jon," he sobbed audibly, "Has it cum to dis, scusing the bestest man in de kentry wid foroshus homosiden. Marser, yu shall hab jestice. I'll stan twix yer und def. Yu know'd nuffin about dis massacre, jess ez innerson ob dis scusation ez a baby—ebery bit und grane."
"Constable," asked the coroner, "fetch me dat crowbar und de prisner." "Now den, dis heer crowbar is a witnis agin yer, Mr. Semo, what has yer got to say agin dis scusation sar?"
The Colonel replied with dignity, "I have not seen it before in twelve months, I am sure."
"How cum dis heer crowbar under de bridge, how cum de bridge fell down und how cum dem fokses drounded, answer me dat?" sharply answered the coroner.
"I cannot tell sir, I know nothing whatever about the matter, and——"
"Boss Crowner," interrupted Joshua, "does yer sposing dat ar crowbar was de cashun ob dat dar drounen? Answer me dat fust. I aint agwine ter sot on no man dat aint gilty. Diss heer bisniss is ticklish bisniss, I tell yer dat rite now, und we is all sworn ter find out whedder dat crowbar kilt dose fokses ur whedder dey kilt deyselves. Now yer look er heer, when dis heer gang cum down dat rode a rasin und a hollering lak wild panters, dey want a noticing nuffin und dat ole bridge hez been shackly und cranksided for a mont, und der horses cummin a prancing und er gallupin wid all dem flags a flying mout er knowed sumfin was agwine to gib way, und ef I wotes ter hang eny body it is agwine to be de oberseer ob de rode, taint agwine to be ole marser. Ef I wotes, I saysef I wotes, I am agwine ter clar ole marser ob dis heer terble scusashun und I am reddy ter wote rite now. I got a plenty ob munny und a plenty ob good wittles, too, und I haint agwine to grunt und root roun de kommissery lak a horg nudder, wid de ole flag a twisted ober de back lak de tail ob a chiken rooster. Marser Jon shall hab jestis ef I hab to go outen dese Nunited States fur it. Mout as well be sarchin fur fleas on a catfish ez fer jestis in dis kote. I move dis honerble kote to turn ole marser Jon loose, und I call for de wote rite now."
This speech of the old negro seemed, as it were, the gift of an oracle. It grappled with a great subject of principle. Joshua was indeed an immune, having nothing to fear from the negroes, on account of his extreme old age and enjoying the trust of the Colonel and his daughter.
He looked up at the flag as he concluded, as it seemed to him just now to be overcast with the murky vapors of oppression, and pointing his bony finger toward its scarlet-veined folds, exclaimed with the pathos, the spirit of an orator of nature,
"De grate Lawd forbid dat yore stripes, 'Ole Glory,' shall be washed in de blood ob my ole marser. I welcomed yu in de Souf when I seed yu chassayin in de wild storm; I bowed my ole hed to yu when yu flung yo storry crown toards de hebens; I've marched backards und farrards, tired unto def, when yu led de rigiment, und felt dere wuz power und pride und peace under yo stripes und under yo storrs; und when hongry und starving fur bread, I flung my ole bever in de air und cheered fur de flag ob de Nunion. I lubs my ole marser ez I lubs yu, 'Ole Glory' und he mus not die—he shall not die; ef de blood of Ellick und Efrum wuz upon his hans und upon his soul ez thick ez de mud upon dare gyarments."
Suffice it to say that in the opinion of the jury John W. Seymour had committed the murder alleged in the warrant and was committed to the common jail for the unbailable capital crime.
The Reconstruction period in the South was offensively institutional. There was a fascination about the spoils principle, the "cohesive power of public plunder" that allured all conditions of men who put themselves in juxtaposition to the new order of things. There was not a negro who valued his manhood suffrage that did not yield implicit faith and obedience to all that was told him by the carpet-baggers, who came south as the "waves come when navies are stranded." The elective judiciary too was no mean accessory in the wholesale plunder of the people; in the sale, delay and denial of justice. The presence of the judge in the county town to hold the court was, an event that was commonly distinguished by farcical displays; exhibitions as it were of harlequins, bazaars, organ-grinders and negroes. From the four quarters of the county exhausted mules and oxen were brought into requisition and hitched to primitive vehicles; negroes who were the worthless heads of pauper families, astride the bare backs of horned cattle, arriving in the town before the break of day and thronging the public buildings, thoroughfares andcourt house. The leaders among the negroes would call upon the judge in his chamber with a disgusting obsequiousness that marked the depravity of their origin. Punishments at times were the refinement of oppression and as often a mockery of the law. Partisan judgments were not unusual or surprising.
An untried judge had come to hold the assizes; he had come without the blast of a trumpet, but the compact assemblage awaited with every demonstration of joy his presence upon the bench. The judge was a young man, seemingly of great intellectual reserve, possessing a steel gray eye that shot its glances through the subject as if it were but marking a point through which his judgment of a man would enter. There were courage, self poise, wisdom, integrity apparent in the man who had arrived to administer the law. For the first time this judicial officer saw before him an indistinguishable mass of the freedmen of the south. He knew by intuition that they were ignorant, vicious and corruptible; he saw that the prosecuting attorney was a negro, the deputies of the sheriff were negroes, the foreman of the grand jury was a negro and doubtless he addressed to himself this interrogatory in the law latincui bono?
"There were indictments almost without number for frauds, embezzlements and forgeries; the travail of reconstruction."
Laflin had been perniciously active all the morning. Before the judge had taken his seat upon the bench, he had interviewed many of the men who had been summoned upon the venire to try a veteran of the lost cause for murder and their pockets were filled with small bribes. He had checked off twelve names and given the list to the solicitor with the heartless remark "Now we'll hang the old secesh higher than Haman, and you and I Mr.Solicitor will divide between us his homestead." At this point of time an interruption came from one of the negro jurors to this effect, "Boss dere's wun secesh nigger dat sez he's agwine to hang de jurer epseps yu gin him wun mo dollar."
"Blast the wretch!" came the curse of this man of baleful power, "Where is he?" he enquired.
"See dat man standin dere ergin dat postess, dats him."
"Here you fellow," said Laflin, "How much money have you been paid to find the old secesh guilty?"
The negro in an abstracted way felt in his pockets and told the wretch that one juror had been paid two dollars, while he had received only one dollar, "und he mout conwic de rong man, den yu see boss, de pay mout not be ekal to de sponuality. Fling in wun mo dollar und de jurer gwine to hang dat secesh sho."
This conclave of diabolical spirits was held in the office of the sheriff at the hour of 9 a. m. Back yonder in the common jail, behind the fretted bars, was the veteran in the cell with black felons.
Why should the catalogue of this poor man's misfortune be enlarged, by super-adding to the loss of domestic tranquility, that greatest of all calamities, the loss of his liberty, aggravated by the imputation of crime and its consequent ignominy. He feels that the storm without is fraught with lightning, that renders desolate the face of nature, his mind has lost its elasticity, its spring, its pride; and who is the prisoner, whom the black crowd follow with the gaping vacuity of vulgar ignorance, assaulting him now and again with obscene gibes, as he is led from the cell to the dock? He is gifted by the God of nature with rare endowments, whose unconquered spirit breaks forth in a sentiment such as this,