Among the Pines Part 31

"Wal," replied Andy, laughing, "if he's gone North you'll need a extradition treaty to kotch him. South Car'lina, I b'lieve, has set up fur a furrin country."

"That's true," said the Colonel, also laughing, "she's "furrin" to the Yankees, but not to the old North State."

"D----d if she haint," replied the North Carolinian, "and now she's got out on our company, I swear she must keep out. We'd as soon think of goin' to h----ll in summer time, as of jining partners.h.i.+p with her.

Cunnel, you'r the only decent man in the State--d----d if you haint--and _your_ politics are a'most bad 'nuff to spile a towns.h.i.+p. It allers seemed sort o'queer to me, that a man with such a mighty good heart as your'n, could be so short in the way of brains."

"Well, you're complimentary," replied the Colonel, with the utmost good-nature, "but let's drop politics; we never could agree, you know.

What shall I do about Moye?"

"Go to Wilmington and telegraph all creation: wait a day to har, then if you don't har, go home, hire a native overseer, and let Moye go to the d----l. Ef it'll do you any good I'll go to Wilmington with you, though I did mean to give you Secesherners a little h--har to-morrer."

"No, Andy, I'll go alone. 'Twouldn't be patriotic to take you away from the barbacue. You'd 'spile' if you couldn't let off some gas soon."

"I do b'lieve I shud. Howsumdever, thar's nary a thing I wouldn't do for you--you knows that."

"Yes, I do, and I wish you'd keep an eye on my Yankee friend here, and see he don't get into trouble with any of the boys--there'll be a hard set 'round, I reckon."

"Wal, I will," said Andy, "but all he's to do is to keep his mouth shet."

"That seems easy enough," I replied, laughing.

A desultory conversation followed for about an hour, when the steam-whistle sounded, and the up-train arrived. The Colonel got on board and bidding us "good-night," went on to Wilmington. Andy then proposed we should look up sleeping accommodations. It was useless to seek quarters at the hotel, but an empty car was on the turn-out, and bribing one of the negroes we got access to it, and were soon stretched at full length on two of its hard-bottomed seats.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE BARBACUE.

The camp-ground was about a mile from the station, and pleasantly situated in a grove, near a stream of water. It was in frequent use by the camp-meetings of the Methodist denomination--which sect at the South is partial to these rural religious gatherings. Scattered over it, with an effort at regularity, were about forty small but neat log cottages, thatched with the long leaves of the turpentine pine, and c.h.i.n.ked with branches of the same tree. Each of these houses was floored with leaves or straw, and large enough to afford sleeping accommodations for about ten persons, provided they spread their bedding on the ground, and lay tolerably close together. Interspersed among the cabins were about a dozen canvas tents which had been erected for this especial occasion.

Nearly in the centre of the group of huts a rude sort of scaffold, four or five feet high, and surrounded by a rustic railing, served for the speaker's stand. It would seat about a dozen persons, and was protected by a roof of pine-boughs, interlaced together so as to keep off the sun, without affording protection from the rain. In the rear of this stand were two long tables, made of rough boards, and supported on stout joists, crossed on each other in the form of the letter X. A canopy of green leaves shaded the grounds, and the whole grove, which was perfectly free from underbrush, was carpeted with the soft, brown ta.s.sels of the pine.

Being fatigued with the ride of the previous day, I did not awake till the morning was far advanced, and it was nearly ten o'clock when Andy and I took our way to the camp-ground. Avoiding the usual route, we walked on through the forest. It was mid-winter, and vegetation lay dead all around us, awaiting the time when spring should breathe into it the breath of life, and make it a living thing. There was silence and rest in the deep woods. The birds were away on their winter wanderings; the leaves hung motionless on the tall trees, and nature seemed resting from her ceaseless labors, and listening to the soft music of the little stream which sung a cheerful song as it rambled on over the roots and fallen branches that blocked its way. Soon a distant murmur arose, and we had not proceeded far before as many sounds as were heard at Babel made a strange concert about our ears. The lowing of the ox, the neighing of the horse, and the deep braying of another animal, mingled with a thousand human voices, came through the woods. But above and over all rose the stentorian tones of the stump speaker,

"As he trod the shaky platform, With the sweat upon his brow."

About a thousand persons were already a.s.sembled on the ground, and a more motley gathering I never witnessed. All sorts of costumes and all cla.s.ses of people were there; but the genuine back-woods corn-crackers composed the majority of the a.s.semblage. As might be expected much the larger portion of the audience were men, still I saw some women and not a few children; many of the country people having taken advantage of the occasion to give their families a holiday. Some occupied benches in front of the stand, though a larger number were seated around in groups, within hearing of the speaker, but paying very little attention to what he was saying. A few were whittling--a few pitching quoits, or playing leap-frog, and quite a number were having a quiet game of whist, euchre or "seven-up."

The speaker was a well-dressed, gentlemanly-looking man and a tolerably good orator. He seemed accustomed to addressing a jury, for he displayed all the adroitness in handling his subject, and in appealing to the prejudices of his hearers, that we see in successful special pleaders.

But he overshot his mark. To nine out of ten of his audience, his words and similes, though correct, and sometimes beautiful, were as unintelligible as the dead languages. He advocated immediate, unconditional secession; and I thought from the applause which met his remarks, whenever he seemed to make himself understood, that the large majority of those present were of the same way of thinking.

He was succeeded by a heavy-browed, middle-aged man, slightly bent, and with hair a little turned to gray, but still hale, athletic, and in the prime and vigor of manhood. His pantaloons and waistcoat were of the common homespun, and he used, now and then, a word of the country dialect, but as a stump-speaker he was infinitely superior to the more polished orator who had preceded him.

He, too, advocated secession, as a right and a duty--separation, now and forever, from the dirt-eating, money-loving Yankees, who, he was ashamed to say, had the same ancestry, and wors.h.i.+pped the same G.o.d, as himself.

He took the bold ground that slavery is a curse to both the black and the white, but that it was forced upon this generation before its birth, by these same greedy, grasping Yankees, who would sell not only the bones and sinews of their fellow men, but--worse than that--their own souls, for gold. It was forced upon them without their consent, and now that it had become interwoven with all their social life, and was a necessity of their very existence, the hypocritical Yankees would take it from them, because, forsooth, it is a sin and a wrong--as if _they_ had to bear its responsibility, or the South could not settle its own affairs with its MAKER!

"Slavery is now," he continued, "indispensable to us. Without it, cotton, rice, and sugar will cease to grow, and the South will starve.

What if it works abuses? What if the black, at times, is overburdened, and his wife and daughters debauched? Man is not perfect anywhere--there are wrongs in every society. It is for each one to give his account, in such matters, to his G.o.d. But in this are we worse than they? Are there not abuses in society at the North? Are not their laborers overworked?

While sin here hides itself under cover of the night, does it not there stalk abroad at noon-day? If the wives and daughters of blacks are debauched here, are not the wives and daughters of whites debauched there? and will not a Yankee barter away the chast.i.ty of his own mother for a dirty dollar? Who fill our brothels? Yankee women! Who load our penitentiaries, crowd our whipping-posts, debauch our slaves, and cheat and defraud us all? Yankee men! And I say unto you, fellow-citizens,"

and here the speaker's form seemed to dilate with the wild enthusiasm which possessed him, "'come out from among them; be ye separate, and touch not the unclean thing,' and thus saith the Lord G.o.d of Hosts, who will guide you, and lead you, if need be, to battle and to victory!"

A perfect storm of applause followed. The a.s.semblage rose, and one long, wild shout rent the old woods, and made the tall trees tremble. It was some minutes before the uproar subsided; when it did, a voice near the speaker's stand called out, "Andy Jones!" The call was at once echoed by another voice, and soon a general shout for "Andy!" "Union Andy!" "Bully Andy!" went up from the same crowd which a moment before had so wildly applauded the secession speaker.

Andy rose from where he was seated beside me, and quietly ascended the steps of the platform. Removing his hat, and pa.s.sing to his mouth a huge quid of tobacco from a tin box in his pantaloons-pocket, he made several rapid strides up and down the speaker's stand, and then turned squarely to the audience.

The reader has noticed a tiger pacing up and down in his cage, with his eyes riveted on the human faces before him. He has observed how he will single out some individual, and finally stopping short in his rounds, turn on him with a look of such intense ferocity as makes a man's blood stand still, and his very breath come thick and hard, as he momentarily expects the beast will tear away the bars of the cage and leap forth on the obnoxious person. Now, Andy's fine, open, manly face had nothing of the tiger in it, but, for a moment, I could not divest myself of the impression, as he halted in his walk up and down the stage, and turned full and square on the previous speaker--who had taken a seat among the audience near me--that he was about to spring upon him. Riveting his eye on the man's face, he at last slowly said:

"A man stands har and quotes Scriptur agin his feller man, and forgets that 'G.o.d made of one blood all nations that dwell on the face of the 'arth.' A man stands har and calls his brother a thief, and his mother a harlot, and axes us to go his doctrin's! I don't mean his brother in the Scriptur sense, nor his mother in a fig'rative sense, but I mean the brother of his own blood, and the mother that bore him; for HE, gentlemen (and he pointed his finger directly at the recent speaker, while his words came slow and heavy with intense scorn), HE is a Yankee!

And now, I say, gentlemen, d--n sech doctrin's; d----n sech principles, and d----n the man that's got a soul so black as to utter 'em!"

A breathless silence fell on the a.s.semblage, while the person alluded to sprang to his feet, his face on fire, and his voice thick and broken with intense rage, as he yelled out: "Andy Jones, by----, you shall answer for this!"

"Sartin," said Andy, coolly inserting his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat; "enywhar you likes--har--now--ef 'greeable to you."

"I've no weapon here, sir, but I'll give you a chance mighty sudden,"

was the fierce reply.

"Suit yourself," said Andy, with perfect imperturbability; "but as you haint jest ready, s'pose you set down, and har me tell 'bout your relations: they're a right decent set--them as I knows--and I'll swar they're 'shamed of you."

A buzz went through the crowd, and a dozen voices called out: "Be civil, Andy"--"Let him blow"--"Shut up"--"Go in, Jones"--with other like elegant exclamations.

A few of his friends took the aggrieved gentleman aside, and, soon quieting him, restored order.

"Wal, gentlemen," resumed Andy, "all on you know whar I was raised--over thar in South Car'lina. I'm sorry to say it, but it's true. And you all know my father was a pore man, who couldn't give his boys no chance--and ef he could, thar warn't no schules in the district--so we couldn't hev got no book-larning ef we'd been a minded to. Wal, the next plantation to whar we lived was old Cunnel J----'s, the father of this cunnel. He was a d----d old nullifier, jest like his son--but not half so decent a man. Wal, on his plantation was an old n.i.g.g.e.r called Uncle Pomp, who'd sumhow larned to read. He was a mighty good n.i.g.g.e.r, and he'd hev been in heaven long afore now ef the Lord hadn't a had sum good use for him down har--but he'll be thar yet a d----d sight sooner than sum on us white folks--that's sartin. Wal, as I was saying, Pomp could read, and when I was 'bout sixteen, and had never seen the inside of a book, the old darky said to me one day--he was old then, and that was thirty years ago--wal, he said to me, 'Andy, chile, ye orter larn to read, 'twill be ob use to ye when you'se grow'd up, and it moight make you a good and 'spected man--now, come to ole Pomp's cabin, and he'll larn you, Andy, chile.' Wal, I reckon I went. He'd nothin' but a Bible and Watts' Hymns; but we used to stay thar all the long winter evenin's, and by the light o' the fire--we war both so darned pore we couldn't raise a candle atween us--wal, by the light o' the fire he larned me, and fore long I could spell right smart.

"Now, jest think on that, gentlemen. I, a white boy, and, 'cordin' to the Declaration of Independence, with jest as good blood in me as the old Cunnel had in him, bein' larned to read by an old slave, and that old slave a'most worked to death, and takin' his nights, when he orter hev been a restin' his old bones, to larn me! I'm d----d if he don't get to heaven for that one thing, if for nothin' else.

"Wal, you all know the rest--how, when I'd grow'd up, I settled har, in the old North State, and how the young Cunnel backed my paper, and set me a runnin' at turpentining. P'raps you don't think this has much to do with the Yankees, but it has a durned sight, as ye'll see rather sudden.

Wal, arter a while, when I'd got a little forehanded, I begun s.h.i.+pping my truck to York and Bostin'; and at last my Yankee factor, he come out har, inter the back woods, to see me, and says he, 'Jones, come North and take a look at us.' I'd sort o' took to him. I'd lots o' dealin's with him afore ever I seed him, and I allers found him straight as a s.h.i.+ngle. Wal, I went North, and he took me round, and showed me how the Yankees does things. Afore I know'd him, I allers thought--as p'raps most on you do--that the Yankees war a sort o' cross atween the devil and a Jew; but how do you s'pose I found 'em? I found that they _sent the pore man's children to schule_, FREE--and that the schule-houses war a d----d sight thicker than the bugs in Miles Privett's beds! and that's sayin' a heap, for ef eny on you kin sleep in his house, excep'

he takes to the soft side of the floor, I'm d----d. Yas, the pore man's children are larned thar, FREE!--all on 'em--and they've jest so good a chance as the sons of the rich man! Now, arter that, do you think that I--as got all my schulein, from an old slave, by the light of a borrored pine-knot--der you think that _I_ kin say any thing agin the Yankees?

P'r'aps they _do_ steal--though I doant know it--p'r'aps they _do_ debauch thar wives and darters, and sell thar mothers' vartue for dollars--but, ef they do, I'm d----d if they doant send pore children to schule--and that's more'n we do--and let me tell you, until we do thet, we must expec' they'll be cuter and smarter nor we are.

"This gentleman, too, my friends, who's been a givin' sech a hard settin' down ter his own relation, arter they've broughten him up, and given him sech a schulein for nuthin', he says the Yankees want to interfere with our n.i.g.g.e.rs. Now, thet haint so, and they couldn't ef they would, 'case it's agin the Constertution. And they stand on the Constertution a durned sight solider nor we do. Didn't thar big gun--Daniel Webster--didn't he make mince-meat of South Car'lina Hayne on thet ar' subjec'? But I tell you they haint a mind ter meddle with the n.i.g.g.e.rs; they're a goin' to let us go ter h--l our own way, and we're goin' thar mighty fast, or I haint read the last census."

"P'r'aps you haint heerd on the ab'lsh'ners, Andy?" cried a voice from among the audience.

"Wal, I reckon I hev," responded the orator, "I've heerd on 'em, and seed 'em, too. When I was North I went to one on thar conventions, and I'll tell you how they look. They've all long, wimmin's har, and thin, shet lips, with big, bawlin' mouths, and long, lean, tommerhawk faces, as white as vargin dip--and they all talk through the nose (giving a specimen), and they all look for all the world jest like the South Car'lina fire-eaters--and they _are_ as near like 'em as two peas, excep' they don't swar quite so bad, but they make up for thet in prayin'--and prayin' too much, I reckon, when a man's a d----d hippercrit, is 'bout as bad as swearin'. But, I tell you, the decent folks up North haint ablisheners. They look on _'em_ jest as we do on mad dogs, the itch, or the n.i.g.g.e.r traders.

"Now, 'bout this secession bis'ness--though 'taint no use to talk on that subjec', 'case this state never'll secede--South Car'lina has done it, and I'm raather glad she has, for though I was born thar--and say it as hadn't orter say it--she orter hev gone to h--l long ago, and now she's got thar, why--_let her stay_! But, 'bout thet bis'ness, I'll tell you a story.

"I know'd an old gentleman once by the name of Uncle Sam, and he'd a heap of sons. They war all likely boys--but strange ter tell, though they'd all the same mother, and she was a white woman, 'bout half on 'em war colored--not black, but sorter half-and-half. Now, the white sons war well-behaved, industrious, hard-workin' boys, who got 'long well, edicated thar children, and allers treated the old man decently; but the mulatter fellers war a pesky set--though some on 'em war better nor others. They wouldn't work, but set up for airystocracy--rode in kerriges, kept fast horses, bet high, and chawed tobaccer like the devil. Wal, the result was, _they_ got out at the elbows, and 'case they warn't gettin' 'long quite so fast as the white 'uns--though that war all thar own fault--they got jealous, and one on 'em who was blacker nor all the rest--a little feller, but terrible big on braggin'--he packed up his truck one night, and left the old man's house, and swore he'd never come back. He tried to make the other mulatters go with him, but they put thar fingers to thar nose, and says they, 'No you doant.' I was in favor of lettin' on him stay out in the cold, but the old man was a bernevolent old critter, and so _he_ says: 'Now, sonny, you jest come back and behave yourself, and I'll forgive you all your old pranks, and treat you jest as I allers used ter; but, ef you wont, why--I'll make you, thet's all!'

"Now, gentlemen, thet quarrelsome, oneasy, ongrateful, tobaccer-chawin', hoss-racin', high-bettin', big-braggin', n.i.g.g.e.r-stealin', wimmin-whippin', yaller son of the devil, is South Car'lina, and ef she doant come back and behave herself in futur', I'm d----d ef she wont be ploughed with fire, and sowed with salt, and Andy Jones will help ter do it."

The speaker was frequently interrupted in the course of his remarks by uproarious applause--but as he closed and descended from the platform, the crowd sent up cheer after cheer, and a dozen strong men, making a seat of their arms, lifted him from the ground and bore him off to the head of the table, where dinner was in waiting.