Dr. Gaines and wife having spent the heated season at the North,
travelling for pleasure and seeking information upon the mode of
agriculture practised in the free States, returned home filled with new
ideas which they were anxious to put into immediate execution, and,
therefore, a radical change was at once commenced.
Two of the most interesting changes proposed, were the introduction of
a plow, which was to take the place of the heavy, unwieldy one then
in use, and a washing-machine, instead of the hard hand-rubbing then
practised. The first called forth much criticism amongst the men in
the field, where it was christened the “Yankee Dodger,” and during the
first half a day of its use, it was followed by a large number of the
negroes, men and women wondering at its superiority over the old plow,
and wanting to know where it was from.
But the excitement in the kitchen, amongst the women, over the
washing-machine, threw the novelty of the plow entirely in the shade.
“An’ so dat tub wid its wheels an’ fixin’ is to do de washin’, while
we’s to set down an’ look at it,” said Dolly, as ten or a dozen
servants stood around the new comer, laughing and making fun at its
ungainly appearance.
“I don’t see why massa didn’t buy a woman, out dar whar de ting was
made, an’ fotch ’em along, so she could learn us how to wash wid it,”
remarked Hannah, as her mistress came into the kitchen to give orders
about the mode of using the “washer.”
“Now, Dolly,” said the mistress, “we are to have new rules, hereafter,
about the work. While at the North, I found that the women got up at
four o’clock, on Monday mornings, and commenced the washing, which was
all finished, and out on the lines, by nine o’clock. Now, remember
that, hereafter, there is to be no more washing on Fridays, and ironing
on Saturdays, as you used to do. And instead of six of you great, big
women to do the washing, two of you with the ‘washer,’ can do the
work.” And out she went, leaving the negroes to the contemplation of
the future.
“I wish missis had stayed at home, ’stead of goin’ round de world,
bringin’ home new rules. Who she tinks gwine to get out of bed at four
o’clock in de mornin’, kase she fotch home dis wash-box,” said Dolly,
as she gave a knowing look at the other servants.
“De Lord knows dat dis chile ain’t a-gwine to git out of her sweet bed
at four o’clock in de mornin’, for no body; you hears dat, don’t you?”
remarked Winnie, as she gave a loud laugh, and danced out of the room.
Before the end of the week, Peter had run the new plow against a stump,
and had broken it beyond the possibility of repair.
When the lady arose on Monday morning, at half-past nine, her usual
time, instead of finding the washing out on the lines, she saw, to her
great disappointment, the inside works of the “washer” taken out, and
Dolly, the chief laundress, washing away with all her power, in the old
way, rubbing with her hands, the perspiration pouring down her black
face.
“What have you been doing, Dolly, with the ‘washer?’” exclaimed the
mistress, as she threw up her hands in astonishment.
“Well, you see, missis,” said the servant, “dat merchine won’t work
no way. I tried it one way, den I tried it an udder way, an’ still it
would not work. So, you see, I got de screw-driver an’ I took it to
pieces. Dat’s de reason I ain’t got along faster wid de work.”
Mrs. Gaines returned to the parlor, sat down, and had a good cry,
declaring her belief that “negroes could not be made white folks, no
matter what you should do with them.”
Although the “patent plow” and the “washer” had failed, Dr. and Mrs.
Gaines had the satisfaction of knowing that one of their new ideas was
to be put into successful execution in a few days.
While at the North, they had eaten at a farm-house, some new cheese,
just from the press, and on speaking of it, she was told by old Aunt
Nancy, the black _mamma_ of the place, that she understood all about
making cheese. This piece of information gave general satisfaction, and
a cheese-press was at once ordered from St. Louis.
The arrival of the cheese-press, the following week, was the signal
for the new sensation. Nancy was at once summoned to the great house
for the purpose of superintending the making of the cheese. A prouder
person than the old negress could scarcely have been found. Her early
days had been spent on the eastern shores of Maryland, where the blacks
have an idea that they are, by nature, superior to their race in any
other part of the habitable globe. Nancy had always spoken of the
Kentucky and Missouri negroes as “low brack trash,” and now, that all
were to be passed over, and the only Marylander on the place called
in upon this “great occasion,” her cup of happiness was filled to the
brim.
“What do you need, besides the cheese-press, to make the cheese with,
Nancy?” inquired Mrs. Gaines, as the old servant stood before her, with
her hands resting upon her hips, and looking at the half-dozen slaves
who loitered around, listening to what was being said.
“Well, missis,” replied Nancy, “I mus’ have a runnet.”
“What’s a runnet?” inquired Mrs. Gaines.
“Why, you see, missis, you’s got to have a sheep killed, and get out
of it de maw, an’ dat’s what’s called de runnet. An’ I puts dat in de
milk, an’ it curdles the milk so it makes cheese.”
“Then I’ll have a sheep killed at once,” said the mistress, and orders
were given to Jim to kill the sheep. Soon after the sheep’s carcass was
distributed amongst the negroes, and “de runnet,” in the hands of old
Nancy.
That night there was fun and plenty of cheap talk in the negro quarters
and in the kitchen, for it had been discovered amongst them that a
calf’s runnet, and not a sheep’s, was the article used to curdle the
milk for making cheese.
The laugh was then turned upon Nancy, who, after listening to all sorts
of remarks in regard to her knowledge of cheese-making, said, in a
triumphant tone, suiting the action to the words,--
“You niggers tink you knows a heap, but you don’t know as much as you
tink. When de sheep is killed, I knows dat you niggers would git de
meat to eat. I knows dat.”
With this remark Nancy silenced the entire group. Then putting her hand
a-kimbo, the old woman sarcastically exclaimed: “To-morrow you’ll all
have calf’s meat for dinner, den what will you have to say ’bout old
Nancy?” Hearing no reply, she said: “Whar is you smart niggers now?
Whar is you, I ax you?”
“Well, den, ef Ant Nancy ain’t some punkins, dis chile knows nuffin,”
remarked Ike, as he stood up at full length, viewing the situation, as
if he had caught a new idea. “I allers tole yer dat Ant Nancy had moo
in her head dan what yer catch out wid a fine-toof comb,” exclaimed
Peter.
“But how is you going to tell missis ’bout killin’ de sheep?” asked Jim.
Nancy turned to the head man and replied: “De same mudder wit dat tole
me to get some sheep fer you niggers will tell me what to do. De Lord
always guides me through my troubles an’ trials. Befoe I open my mouf,
He always fills it.”
The following day Nancy presented herself at the great house door, and
sent in for her mistress. On the lady’s appearing, the servant, putting
on a knowing look, said: “Missis, when de moon is cold an’ de water
runs high in it, den I have to put calf’s runnet in de milk, instead
of sheep’s. So, lass night, I see dat de moon is cold an’ de water is
runnin’ high.”
“Well, Nancy,” said the mistress, “I’ll have a calf killed at once,
for I can’t wait for a warm moon. Go and tell Jim to kill a calf
immediately, for I must not be kept out of cheese much longer.”
On Nancy’s return to the quarters, old Ned, who was past work, and
who never did anything but eat, sleep and talk, heard the woman’s
explanation, and clapping his wrinkled hands exclaimed: “Well den,
Nancy, you is wof moo den all de niggers on dis place, fer you gives us
fresh meat ebbry day.”
After getting the right runnet, and two weeks’ work on the new cheese,
a little, soft, sour, hard-looking thing, appearing like anything but
a cheese, was exhibited at “Poplar Farm,” to the great amusement of
the blacks, and the disappointment of the whites, and especially Mrs.
Gaines, who had frequently remarked that her “mouth was watering for
the new cheese.”
No attempt was ever made afterwards to renew the cheese-making, and the
press was laid under the shed, by the side of the washing machine and
the patent plow. While we had three or four trustworthy and faithful
servants, it must be admitted that most of the negroes on “Poplar Farm”
were always glad to shirk labor, and thought that to deceive the whites
was a religious duty.
Wit and religion has ever been the negro’s forte while in slavery.
Wit with which to please his master, or to soften his anger when
displeased, and religion to enable him to endure punishment when
inflicted.
Both Dr. and Mrs. Gaines were easily deceived by their servants.
Indeed, I often thought that Mrs. Gaines took peculiar pleasure in
being misled by them; and even the Doctor, with his long experience
and shrewdness, would allow himself to be carried off upon almost
any pretext. For instance, when he retired at night, Ike, his body
servant, would take his master’s clothes out of the room, brush them
off and return them in time for the Doctor to dress for breakfast.
There was nothing in this out of the way; but the master would often
remark that he thought Ike brushed his clothes too much, for they
appeared to wear out a great deal faster than they had formerly. Ike,
however, attributed the wear to the fact that the goods were wanting in
soundness. Thus the master, at the advice of his servant, changed his
tailor.
[Illustration: MRS. SARAH PEPPER GAINES.]
About the same time the Doctor’s watch stopped at night, and when
taken to be repaired, the watchmaker found it badly damaged, which
he pronounced had been done by a fall. As the Doctor was always very
careful with his time-piece, he could in no way account for the
stoppage. Ike was questioned as to his handling of it, but he could
throw no light upon the subject. At last, one night about twelve
o’clock, a message came for the Doctor to visit a patient who had a
sudden attack of cholera morbus. The faithful Ike was nowhere to be
found, nor could any traces of the Doctor’s clothes be discovered. Not
even the watch, which was always laid upon the mantle-shelf, could be
seen anywhere.
It seemed clear that Ike had run away with his master’s daily wearing
apparel, watch and all. Yes, and further search showed that the boots,
with one heel four inches higher than the other, had also disappeared.
But go, the Doctor must; and Mrs. Gaines and all of us went to work to
get the Doctor ready.
While Cato was hunting up the old boots, and Hannah was in the attic
getting the old hat, Jim returned from the barn and informed his master
that the sorrel horse, which he had ordered to be saddled, was nowhere
to be found; and that he had got out the bay mare, and as there was no
saddle on the place, Ike having taken the only one, he, Jim, had put
the buffalo robe on the mare.
It was a bright moonlight night, and to see the Doctor on horseback
without a saddle, dressed in his castaway suit, was, indeed,
ridiculous in the extreme. However, he made the visit, saved the
patient’s life, came home and went snugly to bed. The following
morning, to the Doctor’s great surprise, in walked Ike, at his usual
time, with the clothes in one hand and the boots nicely blacked in the
other. The faithful slave had not seen any of the other servants, and
consequently did not know of the master’s discomfiture on the previous
night.
“Were any of the servants off the place last night?” inquired the
Doctor, as Ike laid the clothes carefully on a chair, and was setting
down the boots.
“No, I speck not,” answered Ike.
“Were you off anywhere last night?” asked the master.
“No, sir,” replied the servant.
“What! not off the place at all?” inquired the Doctor sharply. Ike
looked confused and evidently began to “smell a mice.”
“Well, massa, I was not away only to step over to de prayer-meetin’ at
de Corners, a little while, dat’s all,” said Ike.
“Where’s my watch?” asked the Doctor.
“I speck it’s on de mantleshelf dar, whar I put it lass night, sir,”
replied Ike, and at the same time reached to the time-piece, where he
had laid it a moment before, and holding it up triumphantly, “Here it
is, sir, right where I left it lass night.”
Ike was told to go, which he was glad to do. “What shall I do with that
fellow?” said the Doctor to his wife, as the servant quitted the room.
Ike had scarcely reached the back yard when he met Cato, who told him
of his absence on the previous night being known to his master. When
Ike had heard all, he exclaimed, “Well, den ef de ole boss knows it,
dis nigger is kotched sure as you is born.”
“I would not be in your shoes, Ike, fer a heap, dis mornin’,” said Cato.
“Well,” replied Ike, “I thank de Lord dat I is got religion to stand
it.”
Dr. Gaines, as he dressed himself, found nothing out of the way until
he came to look at the boots. The Doctor was lame from birth. Here he
saw unmistakable evidence that the high heel had been taken off, and
had been replaced by a screw put through the inside, and the seam waxed
over. Dr. Gaines had often thought, when putting his boots on in the
morning, that they appeared a little loose, and on speaking of it to
his servant, the negro would attribute it to the blacking, which he
said “made de lether stretch.”
That morning when breakfast was over, and the negroes called in for
family prayers, all eyes were upon Ike.
It has always appeared strange that the negroes should seemingly take
such delight in seeing their fellow-servants in a “bad fix.” But it
is nevertheless true, and Ike’s “bad luck” appeared to furnish sport
for old and young of his own race. At the conclusion of prayers, the
Doctor said, “Now, Ike, I want you to tell me the truth, and nothing
but the truth, of your whereabouts last night, and why you wore away
my clothes?”
“Well, massa,” said Ike, “I’m gwine to tell you God’s truth.”
“That’s what I want, Ike,” remarked the master.
“Now,” continued the negro, “I ware de clothes to de dance, kase you
see, massa, I knowed dat you didn’t want your body servant to go to
de ball looking poorer dressed den udder gentmen’s boys. So you see I
had no clothes myself, so I takes yours. I had to knock the heel off
de lame leg boot, so dat I could ware it. An’ den I took ‘ole Sorrel,’
kase he paces so fass an’ so easy. No udder hoss could get me to de
city in time fer de ball, ceptin’ ‘ole Sorrel.’ You see, massa, ten
miles is a good ways to go after you is gone to bed. Now, massa, I hope
you’ll forgive me dis time, an’ I’ll never do so any moo.”
During Ike’s telling his story, his master kept his eyes rivetted upon
him, and at its conclusion said: “You first told me that you were at
the prayer-meeting at the Corners; what did you do that for?”
“Well, massa,” replied Ike, “I knowed dat I ought to had gone to de
prar-meetin’, an’ dat’s de reason I said I was dar.”
“And you’re a pretty Christian, going to a dance, instead of your
prayer-meeting. This is the fifth time you’ve fallen from grace,” said
the master.
“Oh, no,” quickly responded Ike; “dis is only de fourf time dat I is
back slid.”
“But this is not the first time that you have taken my clothes and worn
them. And there’s my watch, you could not tell the time, what did you
want with that?” said the Doctor.
“Yes, massa,” replied Ike, “I’ll tell de truth; I wore de clothes
afore dis time, an’ I take de watch too, an’ I let it fall, an’ dat’s
de reason it stop dat time. An’ I know I could not tell de time by de
watch, but I guessed at it, an’ dat made de niggers star at me, to see
me have a watch.”
The announcement that Col. Lemmy was at the door cut short the further
investigation of Ike’s case. The Colonel was the very opposite to Dr.
Gaines, believing that there was no good in the negro, except to toil,
and feeling that all religious efforts to better the condition of the
race was time thrown away.
The Colonel laughed heartily as the Doctor told how Ike had worn his
clothes. He quickly inquired if the servant had been punished, and when
informed that he had not, he said: “The lash is worth more than all
the religion in the world. Your boy, Ike, with the rest of the niggers
around here, will go to a prayer meetin’ and will tell how good they
feel or how bad they feel, just as it may suit the case. They’ll cry,
groan, clap their hands, pat their feet, worry themselves into a lather
of sweat, sing,
I’m a-gwine to keep a-climbin’ high,
See de hebbenly land;
Till I meet dem er angels in a de sky
See de hebbenly lan’.
Dem pooty angels I shall see,
See de hebbenly lan’;
Why don’t de debbil let a-me be,
See de hebbenly lan’.
“Yes, Doctor; these niggers will pray till twelve o’clock at night;
break up their meeting and go home shouting and singing, ‘Glory
hallelujah!’ and every darned one of them will steal a chicken, turkey,
or pig, and cry out ‘Come down, sweet chariot, an’ carry me home to
hebben!’ yes, and still continue to sing till they go to sleep. You
may give your slaves religion, and I’ll give mine the whip, an’ I’ll
bet that I’ll get the most tobacco and hemp out of the same number of
hands.”
“I hardly think,” said the Doctor, after listening attentively to
his neighbor, “that I can let Ike pass without some punishment. Yet
I differ with you in regard to the good effects of religion upon all
classes, more especially our negroes, for the African is pre-eminently
a religious being; with them, I admit, there is considerable
superstition. They have a permanent belief in good and bad luck,
ghosts, fortune-telling, and the like; but we whites are not entirely
free from such notions.”
At the last sentence or two, the Colonel’s eyes sparkled, and he began
to turn pale, for it was well known that he was a firm believer in
ghosts and fortune-telling.
“Now, Doctor,” said Col. Lemmy, “every sensible man must admit the
fact that ghosts exist, and that there is nothing in the world truer
than that the future can be told. Look at Mrs. McWilliams’ lawsuit
with Major Todd. She went to old Frank, the nigger fortune-teller, and
asked him which lawyer she should employ. The old man gazed at her
for a moment or two, and said, ‘missis, you’s got your mind on two
lawyers,--a big man and a little man. Ef you takes de big man, you
loses de case; ef you takes de little man, you wins de case.’ Sure
enough, she had in contemplation the employment of either McGuyer or
Darby. The first is a large man; the latter was, as you know, a small
man. So, taking the old negro’s advice, she obtained the services of
John F. Darby, and gained the suit.”
“Yes,” responded the Doctor, “I have always heard that the Widow
McWilliams gained her case by consulting old Frank.”
“Why, Doctor,” continued the Colonel, in an animated manner, “When
the races were at St. Louis, three years ago, I went to old Betty,
the blind fortune-teller, to see which horse was going to win; and
she said, ‘Massa, bet your, money on de gray mare.’ Well, you see,
everybody thought that Johnson’s black horse would win, and piles of
money was bet on him. However, I bet one hundred dollars on the gray
mare, and, to the utter surprise of all, she won. When the race was
over, I was asked how I come to bet on the mare, when everybody was
putting their funds on the horse. I then told them that I never risked
my money on any horse, till I found out which was going to win.
“Now, with regard to ghosts, just let me say to you, Doctor, that I saw
the ghost of the peddler that was murdered over on the old road, just
as sure as you are born.”
“Do you think so?” asked the Doctor.
“Think so! Why, I know it, just as well as I know that I see you now.
He had his pack on his back; and it was in the daytime, no night-work
about it. He looked at me, and I watched him till he got out of sight.
But wasn’t I frightened; it made the hair stand up on my head, I tell
you.”
“Did he speak to you?” asked the Doctor.
“Oh, no! he didn’t speak, but he had a sorrowful look, and, as he was
getting out of sight, he turned and looked over his shoulder at me.”
Most of the superstition amongst the whites, in our section, was the
result of their close connection with the blacks; for the servants told
the most foolish stories to the children in the nurseries, and they
learned more, as they grew older, from the slaves in the quarters, or
out on the premises.