THE OATH OF FEALTY.
Since the death of Mrs. Seymour the negroes had been busily plying their
offensive vocation filling to the very brim the vat of vicious
fermentation. The air at night was laden with ribaldry and the sounds of
guns. The old master's labors were greatly multiplied too, since the
negroes were all the while in some exasperating way or other celebrating
the "Emancipation Proclamation," the dawn of freedom. Their presence had
become a serious menace, an ever recurring cause of alarm. His
resources, too, were almost gone--the cattle had been slaughtered in the
range, the horses appropriated and returned when convenient, and he
dared not ask why this spoliation of his property.
Ned would occasionally announce his arrival upon the plantation by
furious blasts from a great cracked horn. He would be dressed from head
to foot in a blue uniform with bright brass buttons and yellow cords
upon the revers and sleeves of his jacket, and a coarse slouched hat
with crossed swords in front, a huge yellow cord with tassels around the
crown, and it surmounted by a peacock's feather. The old master saw with
disgust the foolish negro from the verandah, marching up and down the
carriage way with his bright musket, going through the manual of arms,
"Sport Harms! Horder arms! Charge bagonets!" Aleck and Ephraim and Henry
were dressed in the same fashion and going through the same evolutions
on another part of the plantation. Now and then a discharge from the
guns accompanied by demoniacal yells would frighten poor Alice almost to
death. In the dead hours of night these brutal negroes to terrify her
and her father would drill in the front yard of Ingleside with vulgar
and boisterous commands, and before breaking ranks they would discharge
their muskets with horrifying screams--"Jess immitatin de brav sojer
boys at Fort Piller," they said. Ingleside was virtually a camp of
military instruction!
"Clarissa," Alice exclaimed, "we must go away from here. We will be
murdered if we do not get away from these horrid negroes, I shall die
with fright if I remain here any longer. They can come at any hour of
the day or night and kill us. Father is old and feeble and cannot
protect me, and you know, Clarissa, I cannot protect him. Please go to
him and tell him we must get away this very day."
"Bress yo deer life, Miss Alice, ef yu seed how dis po ole heart was a
flip flappin, fust peert und den slow, lak a yaller hammer beatin ergen
er dedded gum, fust on wun side und den on de tuther, yu'd say ter
yosef, 'po Clarsy!' Fo de Lawd, I'm skeert mo wusser dan yu is, und ef
dis heer flustrashun is ergwine on much fudder de Lawd is gwine ter rane
down fire und brimstone on dese niggers lak he dun on dem Mallyskites,
und I specks er grate big hunk is ergwine to hit Ned und Joshaway too,
rite slam twixt de eyeballs. Dem dare niggers, jamby granddaddies of
Methuserlum, lookin lak hants in all dem fethers and brass buttons, er
heppin all ober de taters und de korn und de cotton, und bress de Lawd,
ef I must tell de truf, dey is as perished up ez a mash hen er settin on
turkle eggs. Yu needn't larf lak dat, Miss Alice; de Lawd is gwine ter
show dese niggers whos er totin de biggest strane, und when he sez de
wurd, dey's ergwine ter be dedder dan last yur's gode wines, und--"
"Perhaps, Clarissa," interrupted Alice, "these troublous times are but
mercies in disguise?"
"Oh, my King!" ejaculated Clarissa in alarm, "Murder's gwine ter rise,
yu sez? Oh, my hebbens! Is yu aiming fur dem kallamities tu cum
immegiate, missis?"
Alice laughed away the old negress' fears and replied in explanation:
"I said they were mercies--mercies in disguise."
"Dat is mo better, Miss Alice," observed Clarissa, slightly mollified.
"Kase I knoed ef dat tuther fing wuz ergwine ter hap'n, me und yu und
ole marser mout git kilt fo enybody but de niggers spishuned er
resurreckshun. Ole Clarsy's skin is powerful black missis, und dis kinky
hed is pided lak dat ole wether's in de medder, but I'm ergwine ter stan
by yu und ole marser twell de eend, und when Ole Marser up yander sez de
word, I'm ergwine ter ax yu ter berry Clarsy at ole missis' feet; und
den ef she heers de trumpet fust she'll call Clarsy, und ef I heers it
fust I'm ergwine ter call her, und den me und her will jine hans und fly
erway ter glory."
The pathos of this affectionate speech brought tears to the eyes of her
young mistress, and the thought came out of her great sympathetic
nature:
"Reconstruction so far has been a great smelting furnace--it has
separated the pure from the impure, and with its refining heat has
grappled with hooks of steel the hearts of mistress and servant. Would
that I could dictate a fitting eulogium for the faithful negroes; for
those who are groping still amid the shadows of an epoch that seems
obedient to no law but of caprice and change."
If I get to Heaven, Clarissa will be at the portal with some such
expression upon her tongue as this: "Bress yer hart, missis, I've been
waitin right here fur yer ever since I heard yer wus er cummin. Come
wid me, young missis, und let me show yer dis beautifullest city in de
hole wurrel."
"Sixty days within which to prove your loyalty!" "Sixty days" were
coming upon tireless pinions. Are the mills of the gods still grinding?
Is there yet water in the flume to run the heavy wheel? Is there still
grist to feed the stones?
"To prove your loyalty" ran the judgment. What badinage to toss into the
face of a man who had braved death upon a hundred battle-fields and all
for "loyalty!" He had proved it by great scarifications that would have
appalled every carpet-bagger in the South. Loyalty is the counterpart of
honor--the collaborator with duty, and the old soldier for sixty five
years had maintained and performed his part in his particular sphere of
life; yea out of the crucible of hell he had rescued his loyalty--his
character as pure as the untrodden snow.
Another sunrise shoots its gleams into the cribbed heart of Old
Ingleside, and Clarissa has not returned to prepare breakfast; what can
be the matter? "Perhaps she is unwell. I am sure she cannot be
faithless," argued Alice with herself. "I will go and see." As she
entered the door of the cabin she saw Ned rolling and tossing upon the
bed in wild delirium and she asked Clarissa what was the matter with her
husband.
"Don't know, Miss Alice," replied Clarissa, "epseps he is tuck wurser
wid wun ob dem bad spells agin; dey is cummin und agwine ebery now and
den, und he gits rite foolish und komikell."
Alice drew her chair closely to the bedside and felt of the old negro's
head and it was very hot; she felt his pulse and it was beating like a
triphammer. He was groaning, too, as if in great pain, crying out in
delirium occasionally "Charge bagonet! Sport harms! hep! hep! hep!" as
if drilling and going through the manual of the soldier. Alice saw that
something must be done and very quickly, and she said to Clarissa.
"I will run for the doctor."
"Lor, missis, yer a gwine a trapesing away over yander fur de doctur by
your lone lorn sef? I specks hits er mile ur too ef its ary step."
Within an hour the physician was at the bedside of the sick negro,
diagnosing the case and prescribing medicine.
"He is not in immediate danger," observed the physician to Alice, "But
he must be watched."
"I want to put him under your care and whatever your charge may be I
will pay it."
"Thank you, miss," replied the physician with a smile. "I will see that
he does not suffer for the want of medical treatment. By the way, how is
your father's health now, Miss Alice?" he asked.
"I think I can see that he is failing, sir," the girl replied sadly.
"I presume he, like every body else, is greatly annoyed by the
freedmen."
"Yes, a few of them have given us trouble," she replied.
"Perhaps I shall see you again to-morrow. You will find that the negro
will rest very well after his fever abates a little," and the doctor,
shaking Alice's hand cordially, bade her good morning.
"Now Clarissa," Alice said after the doctor had gone, "You run over home
and prepare breakfast for father, and I will watch by Uncle Ned until
you get back.
"Miss Alice," exclaimed Clarissa "sposin dat kommykle nigger gits outen
bed what is yer agwine to do den?"
The old negro's expression was so ludicrous that Alice was obliged to
laugh as she observed, "I will take care of him; never mind. If he gets
out of the bed I will get him back again."
"Und him a plum stracted idjeot?" ejaculated Clarissa as she passed out
of the door.
Alice pursuing the directions of the physician, brought from the spring
near by a bucket of very cold water and sat down again at the bedside
and very gently, soothingly, bathed the old negro's face and brow. The
fever was abating, still the deft fingers dripping with the water
pressed the fevered face. Once Ned partially aroused exclaimed
deliriously,
"I'se a woting ebery time fur de boss, who's yer a woting fur,
Joshaway?"
After quite awhile Ned awoke, at first a little abstracted and asked.
"Is dat yer, Clarsy, wid dem dar shiny eyes?" and again dropped into a
restful slumber.
This time there were no exacerbations, no delirium, but he slept as
tranquilly as a little child. The fever had passed away. He awoke and
saw the dear child whom he had so brutally wronged sitting like a
guardian angel by the bed; her white hands cool and refreshing still
pressing his forehead, and the old negro covered his wrinkled face with
his skinny hands and wept. Wept from a sense of shame, remorse. He
remembered that when her need was sorest he had acted the brute--turned
his back upon this poor child who with a full knowledge of his manifold
acts of cruelty and injustice was nursing him back to life.
"Is dat yer, Miss Alice?" he asked through his blinding tears. "Gord
bress yer dear sweet life, young misses, I fort yer wus ur angel. I
didn't fink dat my young misses dat I left ober yander in de grate house
by her lone sef, to fend fur hersef und de ole marsa, wud do dis urren
ob mussy fur a po' outcast nigger lak ole Ned." And the old negro began
to cry afresh.
"Don't cry, Uncle Ned, the good Lord commands us to visit the sick and I
am trying to do my duty toward Him and toward you. You are so much
better now; don't worry and cry over me. The Lord is chastening us, but
it is all for His glory, Uncle Ned."
"When I woke fust time, missis, I didn't know whar I wus," he continued,
wiping his eyes, "und den I drapped back to sleep agin und it peared lak
de butifullest sperits huvered all erround de bed, and wun ob dem mo
butifuller dan tother wuns crep rite easy lak und put her hand on my
forhed und I heerd tother wuns call her 'Alice,' und I spishuned it
mouter been yer, I knowed it wus yer. Does yer know why dis ole nigger
cried jess now, missis?" "Taint my fault dat I turned agin yer und ole
marsa--de Lord in Hebben knows it aint. Ef I had minded Clarsy, yer und
ole marsa wudn't faulted me no how. I wudn't hurt a har on yer hed for a
wurrell ful of freedum--dat I wudn't. De dratted niggers tole me how dat
I mout be biggety und play boss-lak, und den I wud git to be leftenant
und den I mout be cappen ob de miluntary cump'ny, und wear grate big
gold upperlips lak de boss, und ef I wus agwine to die dis minit I
clares on my solemnkolly ofe dat dem dare biggity white fokses in de
town is de meanest passel ob humans in de yurth. Dey is worsern
jack-lanterns 'ticin' de culled fokses furder und furder into misery.
Missis, ef yer und ole marser will oberlook dese here transgrashuns I'll
nebber, nebber gin yer no mo sorrer, dat I won't."
"Uncle Ned," replied Alice with her beautiful eyes radiant through
tears, "from the bottom of my heart I forgive you if you have ever given
offense to my father or to me. I think I can see that great good is to
come out of it all. Don't you know how the children of Israel suffered
in Egypt, and in their journeyings through the desert land, when the dry
parched lands yielded no corn and the Lord fed his people and led them
safely into Canaan?"
"Yes, marm, dat I duz, und He is ergwine ter leed us outen dese
lowgrounds, too, missis, und ef He doan do dat I knows whut He is
ergwine ter do--He is ergwine ter dribe dese Filistin men outen dis
kentry wid a storm ob yaller jackets lak He drib Farro outen de lan ob
de Mallyskites."
Clarissa having performed her work in the great house came into the
cabin at this moment and was greatly surprised to find Ned in an
animated conversation with her mistress: Ned observing as her footfall
arrested his attention:
"Dar now, Clarsy, yer is dun und gone und fotched us down agin."
"Fotched yer whar, Ned," exclaimed Clarissa in wonderment.
"Frum de perly gates, dat's whar," replied Ned. "Me und Miss Alice has
jes bin ergwine erbout all ober de New Jerusalum, und yu fotched us rite
back to de yurth agen--dat's er sin ter yer, Clarsy."
"Fo de Lawd, is yer er plum stracted idjet? What is yer er doin in de
New Jerusulum? Is yer dun und washed erway yer sins? I don't see no
whings in dis heer house--how did yer git up dar Ned."
Alice laughed immoderately, and even Ned obliged himself to confess "dat
he was in de sperret in de New Jerusulum."
"Miss Alice," asked Ned quite earnestly, "has yer got de good book wid
yer?"
"Yes, Ned, I have my mother's bible with me; wherever I go it is my
companion always. Shall I read a passage to you?" answered Alice.
"Ef yer plese, mum. I aims ter cut ernudder notch in my ole walkin
stick, und when I looks at dat I'm ergwine ter drap rite down und pray."
Alice opened the little thumb-worn book at the second chapter of John
and began to read:
"My little children, these things write I unto you, that ye sin not. And
if any man sin we have an advocate with the Father--Jesus Christ the
Righteous."
"Don't you see, Uncle Ned," Alice said as she looked up into the old
negro's black face, "how good the Lord is to us? He puts it into the
mouth of His apostle to call us little children, and he tells us that
the Saviour is pleading for us poor sinners. 'Love not the world,
neither the things that are in the world. If any man love the world the
love of the Father is not in him.' When we are in distress or trouble,"
continued Alice, "we must turn away from the beggarly elements of the
world and cast our cares upon Him, for He careth for us."
"Whot sort er elements did yer say, missis?" asked Ned attentively.
"Beggarly elements," replied Alice. "There is nothing that satisfieth in
this life, uncle Ned; and all the world can give us in comforts and
riches are as husks--we must look to Jesus and to Him only for
consolation--for salvation."
"Dat is de Gospel truf," exclaimed Clarissa, with emotion.
"Miss Alice, will yer fault me fur axin yer wun mo questun? Is dere eny
defference in hebben twixt er cullud pussun und a white pussun?"
"No indeed," replied Alice; "we are His children if we are faithful--the
work of His hands."
"Dat questiun, missis, has oversized me all dese days, und I was afeered
dat we was de gotes dat de Lawd drib ober on tother side, erway frum de
lams, kase, missis, when I gits dar I wants ter live rite close ter ole
marser's und young missis' 'great house,' whar I kin see yer und tend
yer boff."
"You will not need to do us that service, Uncle Ned. You will have a
mansion of your own; there will be no great houses there. The good Lord
will know no difference between you and me, only as you or I shall excel
here in doing His holy will. Don't you want to serve Him, old negro, so
you shall have a crown of rejoicing by and by?"
"Dat I does, young missis. My ole bones is mity shackly, und it aint
ergwine ter be long afore I goes outen dis cabin fer de las time; und ef
its His will ter call me fust, I'm agwine ter pick out de butifulest
great house in de city, und stay rite dere lak er watch-dorg twell yer
und ole marser cums und taks perseshun. When I gits outen dis bed,
missis, I'm gwine back home--gwine back to ole Mars Jon, lak dat
prodigle man dat woured up dem korn cobs way out yander."
Alice, the true hearted Christian, could not withhold her tears as the
old negro so eloquently, yet so ignorantly, revealed his love and
loyalty. She arose from her chair to bid him good bye:
"One word mo, missis, und den I'm dun. I wants jes one little drap o'
prayer, pleas'm."
Alice knelt reverently at the bed and tenderly prayed that the old negro
might be accepted as a child of the King--a royal son of a Royal Father,
whose kingdom was above all thrones and principalities, and from
everlasting to everlasting.
"Und now, Clarsy," said old Ned, "yer stan rite dere, und Miss Alice yer
stan whar yer is, und hear me swar dis ofe: 'I, Ned Semo, does swar und
kiss dis little bible ob ole missusses' who's dun und gon to hebben, dat
nebber mo' will I lif my mouf nur my han nur my hart in mischuf agen ole
marser und young Miss Alice, so help me Gawd!"
Let us believe that the recording angel in the heavenly court has
engrossed this oath in a never-fading holograph in his journal, and that
whenever the sacred tome is read as witnessing the good there is in the
creature, the word "approve" shall appear upon the margin.