A BRUISED REED.
"Eliab Hill," said Le Moyne, when they came at length to the subject
in relation to which the interview had been solicited, "was born
the slave of Potem Desmit, on his plantation Knapp-of-Reeds, in
the lower part of the county. His mother was a very likely woman,
considerable darker than he, but still not more than a quadroon, I
should say. She was brought from Colonel Desmit's home plantation
to Knapp-of-Reeds some little time before her child was born. It
was her first child, I believe, and her last one. She was a very
slender woman, and though not especially unhealthy, yet never
strong, being inclined to consumption, of which she finally died.
Of course his paternity is unknown, though rumor has not been silent
in regard to it. It is said that a stubborn refusal on his mother's
part to reveal it led Colonel Desmit, in one of his whimsical
moods, to give the boy the name he bears. However, he was as bright
a child as ever frolicked about a plantation till he was some
five or six years old. His mother had been a house-servant before
she was sent to Knapp-of-Reeds, and being really a supernumerary
there, my father hired her a year or two afterward as a nurse for
my mother, who has long been an invalid, as you may be aware."
His listener nodded assent, and he went on:
"Her child was left at Knapp-of-Reeds, but Saturday nights it
was brought over to stay the Sunday with her, usually by this boy
Nimbus, who was two or three years older than he. The first I remember
of his misfortune was one Saturday, when Nimbus brought him over
in a gunny-sack, on his back. It was not a great way, hardly half
a mile, but I remember thinking that it was a pretty smart tug for
the little black rascal. I was not more than a year or two older
than he, myself, and not nearly so strong.
"It seems that something had happened to the boy, I never knew
exactly what--seems to me it was a cold resulting from some exposure,
which settled in his legs, as they say, producing rheumatism or
something of that kind--so that he could not walk or hardly stand
up. The boy Nimbus had almost the sole charge of him during the
week, and of course he lacked for intelligent treatment. In fact,
I doubt if Desmit's overseer knew anything about it until it
was too late to do any good. He was a bright, cheerful child, and
Nimbus was the same dogged, quiet thing he is now. So it went on,
until his mother, Moniloe, found that he had lost all use of his
legs. They were curled up at one side, as you saw them, and while
his body has developed well they have grown but little in comparison.
"Moniloe made a great outcry over the child, to whom she was much
attached, and finally wrought upon my father and mother to buy
herself and her crippled boy. Colonel Desmit, on whom the burden
of his maintenance would fall, and who saw no method of making him
self-supporting, was willing to sell the mother on very moderate
terms if my father would take the child and guarantee his support.
This was done, and they both became my father's property. Neither
forgot to be grateful. The woman was my mother's faithful nurse
until after the war, when she died, and I have never been able to
fill her place completely, since. I think Eliab learned his letters,
and perhaps to read a little, from me. He was almost always in my
mother's room, being brought in and set down upon a sheepskin on
one side the fireplace in the morning by his mammy. My mother had
great sympathy with his misfortune, the more, I suppose, because
of her own very similar affliction. She used to teach him to sew
and knit, and finally, despite the law, began to encourage him to
read. The neighbors, coming in and finding him with a book in his
hands, began to complain of it, and my father, in order to silence
all such murmurs, manumitted him square out and gave bonds for his
support, as the law required.
"As he grew older he remained more and more in his mother's cabin,
in one corner of which she had a little elevated platform made for
him. He could crawl around the room by means of his hands, and had
great skill in clambering about by their aid. When he was about
fifteen a shoemaker came to the house to do our plantation work.
Eliab watched him closely all the first day; on the second desired
to help, and before the month had passed was as good a shoemaker
as his teacher. From that time he worked steadily at the trade,
and managed very greatly to reduce the cost of his support.
"He was a strange boy, and he and this fellow Nimbus were always
together except when prevented by the latter's tasks. A thousand
times I have known Nimbus to come over long after dark and leave
before daylight, in order to stay with his friend over night. Not
unfrequently he would carry him home upon his back and keep him for
several days at Knapp-of-Reeds, where both were prime favorites, as
they were with us also. As they grew older this attachment became
stronger. Many's the time I have passed there and seen Nimbus working
in the tobacco and Eliab with his hammers and lasts pounding away
under a tree near by. Having learned to read, the man was anxious
to know more. For a time he was indulged, but as the hot times just
preceding the war came on, it became indiscreet for him to be seen
with a book.
"While he was still very young he began to preach, and his
ministrations were peculiarly prudent and sensible. His influence
with his people, even before emancipation, was very great, and
has been increased by his correct and manly conduct since. I regard
him, sir, as one of the most useful men in the community.
"For some reason, I have never known exactly what, he became anxious
to leave my house soon after Nimbus' return from the army, although
I had offered him the free use of the little shop where he and his
mother had lived, as long as he desired. He and Nimbus, by some hook
or crook, managed to buy the place at Red Wing. It was a perfectly
barren piney old-field then, and not thought of any account except
for the timber there was on it. It happened to be at the crossing
of two roads, and upon a high sandy ridge, which was thought to be
too poor to raise peas on. The man who sold it to them--their old
master Potem Desmit--no doubt thought he was getting two or three
prices for it; but it has turned out one of the best tobacco
farms in the county. It is between two very rich sections, and in
a country having a very large colored population, perhaps the largest
in the county, working the river plantations on one side and the
creek bottoms on the other. I have heard that Nimbus takes great
credit to himself for his sagacity in foreseeing the capabilities
of Red Wing. If he really did detect its value at that time, it
shows a very fine judgment and accounts for his prosperity since.
Eliab Hill affirms this to be true, but most people think he does
the planning for the whole settlement. Nimbus has done extremely
well, however. He has sold off, I should judge, nearly half his
land, in small parcels, has worked hard, and had excellent crops.
I should not wonder, if his present crop comes off well and the
market holds on, if before Christmas he were worth as many thousands
as he had hundreds the day he bought that piney old-field. It
don't take much tobacco at a dollar a pound, which his last crop
brought, lugs and all, to make a man that does his own work and
works his own land right well off. He's had good luck, has worked
hard, and has either managed well or been well advised; it don't
matter which.
"He has gathered a good crowd around him too, sober, hard-working
men; and most of them have done well too. So that it has become
quite a flourishing little settlement. I suppose there are some
fifty or sixty families live there. They have a church, which
they use for a school-house, and it is by a great deal the best
school-house in the county too. Of course they got' outside help,
some from the Bureau, I reckon, and more perhaps from some charitable
association. I should think the church or school-house must have
cost fifteen hundred or two thousand dollars. They have a splendid
school. Two ladies from the North are teaching there--real ladies,
I should judge, too."
The listener smiled at this indorsement.
"I see," said Le Moyne, "it amuses you that I should qualify my
words in that manner. It seems unneccessary to you."
"Entirely so."
"Well, it may be; but I assure you, sir, we find it hard to believe
that any one who will come down here and teach niggers is of very
much account at home."
"They are generally of the very cream of our Northern life,"
said the other. "I know at this very time the daughters of several
prominent clergymen, of two college professors, of a wealthy merchant,
of a leading manufacturer, and of several wealthy farmers, who are
teaching in these schools. It is missionary work, you see--just
as much as going to Siam or China. I have never known a more
accomplished, devoted, or thoroughly worthy class of ladies, and
do not doubt that these you speak of, well deserve your praise
without qualification."
"Well, it may be," said the other dubiously; "but it is hard for
us to understand, you know. Now, they live in a little old house,
which they have fixed up with flowers and one thing and another
till it is very attractive--on the outside, at least. I know nothing
about the inside since their occupancy. It was a notable place in
the old time, but had quite run down before they came. I don't
suppose they see a white person once a month to speak to them, unless
indeed some of the officers come over from the post at Boyleston,
now and then. I am sure that no lady would think of visiting them
or admitting them to her house. I know a few gentlemen who have
visited the school just out of curiosity. Indeed, I have ridden
over once myself, and I must say it is well worth seeing. I should
say there were three or four hundred scholars, of all ages, sizes,
and colors--black, brown, white apparently, and all shades of what
we used to call 'ginger-cake.' These two ladies and the man Eliab
teach them. It is perfectly wonderful how they do get on. You ought
to see it."
"I certainly shall," said Pardee, "as a special duty calls me there.
How would it do for a polling-place?"
"There ought to be one there, but I should be afraid of trouble,"
answered Le Moyne seriously.
"Name me one or two good men for poll-holders, and I will risk any
disorder."
"Well, there is Eliab. He's a good man if there ever was one, and
capable too."
"How about Nimbus?"
"He's a good man too, honest as the day is long, hard-headed and
determined, but he can't read or write."
"That is strange."
"It _is_ strange, but one of the teachers was telling me so
when I was there. I think he has got so that he can sign his first
name--his only one, he insists--but that is all, and he cannot read
a word."
"I should have thought he would have been one of the first to learn
that much at least."
"So should I. He is the best man of affairs among them all--has
good judgment and sense, and is always trying to do something to
get on. He says he is 'too busy to get larnin', an' leaves that
and preachin' to Bre'er' 'Liab.'" "Do they keep up their former
intimacy?"
"Keep it up? 'Liab lives in Nimbus' lot, has his meals from his
table, and is toted about by Nimbus just the same as if they were
still boys. Nimbus seems to think more of him than he would of a
brother--than he does of his brothers, for he has two whom he seems
to care nothing about. His wife and children are just as devoted
to the cripple as Nimbus, and 'Liab, on his part, seems to think as
much of them as if they were his own. They get along first-rate,
and are prospering finely, but I am afraid they will have trouble
yet."
"Why so?"
"Oh, well, I don't know; they are niggers, you see, and our people
are not used to such things."
"I hope your apprehensions are groundless."
"Well, I hope so too."
The officer looked at his watch and remarked that he must return
to his duty, and after thanking his companion for a pleasant hour,
and being invited to call at Mulberry Hill whenever occasion might
serve, the two men parted, each with pleasant impressions of the
other.