"PRIME WRAPPERS."
It was more than a year afterward. Quite a little village had grown
up around the church and school-house at Red Wing, inhabited by
colored men who had been attracted thither by the novelty of one
of their own members being a proprietor. Encouraged by his example,
one and another had bought parcels of his domain, until its size was
materially reduced though its value was proportionately enhanced.
Those who settled here were mostly mechanics--carpenters and
masons--who worked here and there as they could find employment,
a blacksmith who wrought for himself, and some farm laborers who
dreaded the yearly system of hire as too nearly allied to the slave
regime, and so worked by the day upon the neighboring plantations.
One or two bought somewhat larger tracts, intending to imitate the
course of Nimbus and raise the fine tobacco for which the locality
was already celebrated. All had built cheap log-houses, but their
lots were well fenced and their "truck-patches" clean and thrifty,
and the little hamlet was far from being unattractive, set as it
was in the midst of the green forests which belted it about. From
the plantations on either side, the children flocked to the school.
So that when the registering officer and the sheriff rode into
the settlement, a few days after the registration at Melton, it
presented a thriving and busy spectacle.
Upon the hillside, back of his house, Nimbus, his wife, and two
men whom he had employed were engaged in cutting the tobacco which
waved--crinkled and rank, with light ygjlowish spots showing here
and there upon the great leaves--a billow of green in the autumn
wind. The new-comers halted and watched the process for a moment
as they rode up to the barn, while the sheriff explained to the
unfamiliar Northman:
"This is the first cutting, as it is called. They only take out the
ripest this time, and leave the rest for another cutting, a week
or two later. You see, he goes through there," pointing to Nimbus,
"and picks out the ripe, yellow-looking plants. Then he sets his
knife in at the top of the stalk where it has been broken off to
prevent its running up to seed, and splits it down almost to the
ground; then he cuts the stalk off below the split, and it is ready
to be hung on the thin narrow strips of oak, which you see stuck
up here and there, where the cutting has been done. They generally
put from seven to ten plants on a stick, according to the size
of the plants; so that the number of sticks makes a very accurate
measure of the size of the crop, and an experienced hand can tell
within a few pounds the weight of any bulk of tobacco by simply
counting the sticks."
They rode up to the barn and found it already half full of tobacco.
Nimbus came and showed the officer how the sticks were laid upon
beams placed at proper intervals, the split plants hanging tops
downward, close together, but not touching each other. The upper
portions of the barn were first filled and then the lower tiers,
until the tobacco hung within two or three feet of the bottom. The
barn itself was made of logs, the interstices closely chinked and
daubed with clay, so as to make it almost air-tight. Around the
building on the inside ran a large stone flue, like a chimney laid
on the ground. Outside was a huge pile of wood and a liberal supply
of charcoal. Nimbus thus described the process of curing: "Yer
see, Capting, we fills de barn chock full, an' then shets it up fer
a day or two, 'cording ter de weather, sometimes wid a slow fire
an' sometimes wid none, till it begins ter sweat--git moist, yer
know. Den we knows it's in order ter begin de curin', an' we puts
on mo' fire, an' mo,' an' mo', till de whole house gits hot an' de
leaves begins ter hev a ha'sh, rough feel about de edges, an' now
an' den one begins ter yaller up. Den we raises de heat jes ze fast
ez we kin an' not fire de barn. Some folks uses de flues alone
an' some de coal alone, but I mostly 'pends on de flues wid a few
heaps of coal jes here an' dar 'bout de flo', at sech a time, kase
eberyting 'pends on a even reg'lar heat dat you kin manage good.
Den you keeps watch on it mighty close an' don't let it git too hot
nor yet fail ter be hot 'nough, but jes so ez ter keep it yallerin'
up nicely. When de leaves is crisp an' light so dat dey rustles
roun' in de drafts like dead leaves in the fall, yer know, it's
cured; an' all yer's got ter du den is ter dry out de stems an'
stalks. Dat's got ter be done, tho,' kase ef yer leaves enny bit
ob it green an' sappy-like, fust ting yer knows when it comes in
order--dat is, gits damp an' soft--de green runs outen de stems
down inter de leaves an' jes streaks 'em all ober, or p'raps it
turns de fine yaller leaf a dull greenish brown. So yer's got ter
keep up yer fire till every stalk an' stem'll crack like a pipe-stem
ez soon ez yer bends 'em up. Den yer lets de fire go down an' opens
der do' fer it ter come in order, so't yer kin bulk it down."
"What do you mean by 'bulking it down'?"
"Put it in bulk, like dis yer," said he, pointing to a pile of sticks
laid crosswise of each other with the plants still on them, and
carefully covered to keep out the weather. "Yer see," he continued,
"dis answers two pu'poses; fust yergits yer barn empty an' uses it
again. Den de weather don't git in ter signify, yer know, an' so
it don't come inter order any more an' color up wid de wet; dat
is, 'less yer leaves it too long or de wedder is mighty damp."
"Oh, he knows," said the sheriff, with a ring of pride in his
voice. "Nimbus was raised in a tobacco-field, and knows as much
as anybody about it. How did your first barn cure up, Nimbus?"
"Right bright and even, sah," answered the colored man, as he
thrust his hand under the boards spread over the bulk near which he
stood, and drew out a few leaves, which he smoothed out carefully
and handed to his visitors. "I got it down in tol'able fa'r order,
too, alter de rain t'odder evenin'. Dunno ez I ebber handled a
barn thet, take it all round, 'haved better er come out fa'rer in
my life--mighty good color an' desp'ut few lugs. Yer see, I got it
cut jes de right time, an' de weather couldn't hev ben better ef
I'd hed it made ter order."
The sheriff stretched a leaf to its utmost width, held it up to
the sunshine, crumpled it between his great palms, held it to his
face and drew a long breath through it, rubbed the edges between thumb
and finger, pinched the stem with his thumb-nail till it broke in
half a dozen places, and remarked with enthusiasm, to the Northern
man, who stood rubbing and smelling of the sample he held, in
awkward imitation of one whom he recognized as a connoisseur:
"That's prime terbacker, Captain. If it runs like that through
the bulk and nothing happens to it before it gets to the warehouse,
it'll bring a dollar a pound, easy. You don't often see such
terbacker any year, much less such a one as this has been. Didn't
it ripen mighty uneven, Nimbus?" "Jest about ez it oughter--a
little 'arlier on the hilltop an' dry places 'long de sides, an'
den gradwally down ter de moister places. Dar wa'n't much ob dat
pesky spotted ripenin' up--jes a plant h'yer an' anodder dar, all
in 'mong de green, but jest about a good barnfull in tollable
fa'r patches, an' den anodder comin' right on atter it. I'll hev
it full agin an' fire up by to-morrer evenin'."
"Do you hang it right up after cutting?" asked the officer.
"Wal, we mout do so. Tain't no hurt ter do it dat er way, only it
handles better ter let it hang on de sticks a while an' git sorter
wilted--don't break de leaves off ner mash 'em up so much loadin'
an" unloadin', yer know," answered Nimbus.
"How much have you got here?" asked the sheriff, casting his eye
over the field; "forty thousand?"
"Wal," said Nimbus, "I made up sixty thousand hills, but I hed ter
re-set some on 'em. I s'pose it'll run somewhere between fifty an'
sixty thousand."
"A right good crop," said the sheriff. "I doubt if any man in the
county has got a better, take it all 'round."
"I don't reckon ther's one wukked enny harder fer what he's got,"
said the colored man quietly.
"No, I'll guarantee ther hain't," said the other, laughing. "Nobody
ever accused you of being lazy, Nimbus. They only fault you fer
being too peart."
"All 'cause I wants my own, an' wuks fer it, an' axes nobody enny
odds, but only a fa'r show--a white man's chance ter git along,"
responded Nimbus, with a touch of defiance in his tone.
"Well, well," said the sheriff good-naturedly, "I won't never fault
ye for that, but they do say you're the only man, white er black,
that ever got ahead of Potem Desmit in a trade yet. How's that,
Nimbus?"
"I paid him all he axed," said the colored man, evidently flattered
by this tribute to his judgment as to the value of Red Wing. "Kase
white folks won't see good fine-terbacker lan' when dey walks ober
it, tain't my fault, is it?"
"No more tain't, Nimbus; but don't yer s'pose yer Marse Potem's
smartly worried over it?"
"La, no, I reckon not. He don't 'pear ter be, ennyhow. He war by
here when I was curin' up dis barn, an' stopped in an' looked at
it, an' axed a power ob questions, an' got Lugena ter bring him out
some buttermilk an' a corn pone. Den he went up an' sot an hour
in de school an' sed ez how he war mighty proud ter see one of his
ole nigga's gittin' on dat er way."
"Wal, now, that was kind of him, wasn't it?"
"Dat it war, sah, an' hit done us all a power ob good, too. Hev
you ebber ben ter de school, Mr. Sheriff? No? wal, yer oughter;
an' you, too, Capting. Dar's a little Yankee woman, Miss Mollie
Ainslie, a runnin' ob it, dat do beat all curration fer managin'
tings. I'd nebber'd got long so h'yer, not by no means, ez I hez,
but fer her advice--her'n an' 'Liab's, gentlemen. Dar she am now,"
he added, as a slight figure, mounted on a powerful black horse,
and dressed in a dark riding-habit, with a black plume hanging from
a low-crowned felt hat, came out of the woods below and cantered
easily along the road a hundred yards away, toward the school-house.
The visitors watched her curiously, and expressed a desire to visit
the school. Nimbus said that if they would walk on slowly he would
go by the house and get his coat and overtake them before they
reached the school-house. As they walked along the sheriff said,
"Did you notice the horse that Yankee schoolmarm rode?"
"I noticed that it was a very fine one," was the reply.
"I should think it was. I haven't seen a horse in an age that
reminded me so much of the one I was telling you about that Hesden
Le Moyne used to have. He is fuller and heavier, but if I was not
afraid of making Hesden mad I would rig him about a nigger-teacher's
riding his horse around the country. Of course it's not the same,
but it would be a good joke, only Hesden Le Moyne is not exactly
the man one wants to start a joke on."
When they arrived at the school-house they found that Mollie
Ainslie had changed her habit and was now standing by the desk on
the platform in the main room, clad in a neat half-mourning dress,
well adapted to the work of the school-room, quiet and composed,
tapping her bell to reduce to order the many-hued crowd of scholars of
all ages and sizes who were settling into their places preparatory
to the morning roll-call. Nimbus took his visitors up the broad aisle,
through an avenue of staring eyes, and introduced them awkwardly,
but proudly, to the self-collected little figure on the platform.
She in turn presented to them her assistant, Miss Lucy Ellison,
a blushing, peach-cheeked little Northern beauty, and Eliab Hill,
now advanced to the dignity of an assistant also, who sat near her
on the platform. The sheriff nodded awkwardly to the ladies, as
if doubtful how much deference it would do to display, said, "How
d'ye, 'Liab?" to the crippled colored man, laid his saddle-bags on
the floor, and took the chair assigned to him. The Northern man
greeted the young ladies with apparent pleasure and profound respect,
shook hands with the colored man, calling him "Mister" Hill, and
before sitting down looked out on the crowded school with evident
surprise.
Before proceeding with the roll-call Miss Ainslie took the large
Bible which lay upon her desk, and approaching the gentlemen said:
"It is our custom every morning to read a portion of the Scripture
and offer prayer. We should be glad if either of you would conduct
these exercises for us."
Both declined, the sheriff with some confusion, and the other
remarking that he desired to see the school going on as if he were
not present, in order that he might the better observe its exercises.
Miss Ainslie returned to her desk, called the roll of a portion
of the scholars, and then each of her assistants called the names
of those assigned to their charge. A selection from the Scripture
was next read by the preceptress, a hymn sung under her lead with
great spirit and correctness, and then Eliab Hill, clasping his
hands, said, "Let us pray." The whole school knelt, the ladies
bowed their heads upon the desk, and Eliab offered an appropriate
prayer, in which the strangers were not forgotten, but were each
kindly and fitly commended to the Divine care. Then there was an
impromptu examination of the school. Each of the teachers heard a
class recite, there was more singing, with other agreeable exercises,
and it was noon before the visitors thought of departing. Then they
were invited to dine with the lady teachers at the old Ordinary,
and would have declined, on the ground that they must go on to the
next precinct, but Nimbus, who had been absent for an hour, now
appeared and brought word that the table was spread on the porch
under the great oak, and their horses already cared for; so that
excuse would evidently be useless. The sheriff was very uneasy,
but the other seemed by no means displeased at the delay. However,
the former recovered when he saw the abundant repast, and told many
amusing stories of the old hostel. At length he said:
"That is a fine horse you rode this morning, Miss Ainslie. May I
ask to whom it belongs?"
"To me, of course," replied the lady, in some surprise.
"I did not know," replied the sheriff, slightly confused. "Have
you owned him long?"
"Nearly two years, she answered."
"Indeed? Somehow I can't get it out of my head that I have seen him
before, while I am quite sure I never had the pleasure of meeting
you until to-day."
"Quite likely," she answered; "Nimbus sometimes rides him into
Melton for the mail."
"No," said he, shaking his head, "that is not it. But, no matter,
he's a fine horse, and if you leave here or wish to sell him at
any time, I hope you will rememher and give me a first chance."
He was astonished at the result of his harmless proposal.
"Sir," said the little lady, her gray eyes filling and her voice
choking with emotion, "that was my only brother's favorite horse.
He rode him in the army, and gave him to me when he died. No money
could buy him under any circumstances."
"Beg pardon," said the sheriff; "I had no idea--I--ah--"
To relieve his embarrassment the officer brought forward the special
object of his visit by stating that it was thought desirable to
establish a voting precinct at Red Wing for the coming election,
if a suitable place to hold the election could be found, and asked
if the school-house could be obtained for that purpose. A lively
conversation ensued, in which both gentlemen set forth the advantages
of the location to the voters of that section. Miss Ellison seemed
to favor it, but the little lady who was in charge only asked
questions and looked thoughtful. When at length her opinion was
directly asked, she said:
"I had heard of this proposal through both Mr. Hill and Nimbus, and
I must say I quite agree with the view taken by the former. If it
were necessary in order to secure the exercise of their rights by
the colored men I would not object; but I cannot see that it is.
It would, of course, direct even more attention to our school, and
I do not think the feeling toward us among our white neighbors is
any too kindly now. We have received no serious ill-treatment, it
is true, but this is the first time any white person has ventured
into our house. I don't think that anything should be done to excite
unnecessary antipathy which might interfere with what I must consider
the most important element of the colored man's development, the
opportunity for education."
"Why, they hold the League meetings there, don't they?" asked the
sheriff, with a twinkle which questioned her sincerity.
"Certainly," she answered calmly. "At least I gave them leave to
do so, and have no doubt they do. I consider that necessary. The
colored men should be encouraged to consider and discuss political
affairs and decide in regard to them from their own standpoint.
The League gives them this opportunity. It seems to be a quiet
and orderly gathering. They are all colored men of the same way of
thought, in the main, and it is carried on entirely by them; at
least, such is the case here, and I consider the practice which it
gives in the discussion of public affairs and the conduct of public
assemblies as a most valuable training for the adults who will
never have a chance to learn otherwise."
"I think Nimbus is in favor of having the election here," said
Captain Pardee.
"No doubt," she replied. "So are they all, and they have been very
pressing in their importunity--all except Mr. Hill. They are proud
of their school and the building, which is the joint product of
their own labor and the helpfulness of Northern friends, and are
anxious for every opportunity to display their unexpected prosperity.
It is very natural, but I think unwise."
"Nimbus owns the land, don't he?" asked the sheriff.
"No, He gave that for school and church purposes, and, except that
they have a right to use it on the Sabbath, it is in my charge as
the principal teacher here," she replied, wilh dignity.
"And you do not desire the election held here?" asked Captain
Pardee.
"I am sorry to discommode the voters around here, white or black,
but I would not balance a day's time or a day's walk against the
more important interests of this school to the colored people. They
can walk ten miles to vote, if need be, but no exertion of theirs
could replace even the building and its furniture, let alone the
school which it shelters."
"That is very true," said the officer, thoughtfully.
So the project was abandoned, and Melton remained the nearest
polling-place to Red Wing.
As they rode away the two representatives of antipodal thought
discussed the scenes they had witnessed that day, which were equally
new to them both, and naturally enough drew from them entirely
different conclusions. The Northern man enthusiastically prophesied
the rapid rise and miraculous development of the colored race
under the impetus of free schools and free thought. The Southern
man only saw in it a prospect of more "sassy niggers," like Nimbus,
who was "a good enough nigger, but mighty aggravating to the white
folks."
With regard to the teachers, he ventured only this comment:
"Captain, it's a mighty pity them gals are teaching a nigger school.
They're too likely for such work--too likely by half."
The man whom he addressed only gave a low, quiet laugh at this
remark, which the other found it difficult to interpret.