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OVERSHADOWED.
A Novel.
by
SUTTON E. GRIGGS
Author of "Imperium in Imperio."
Nashville, Tenn.:
The Orion Publishing Co.
1901.
Copyrighted
Sutton E. Griggs
1901.
DEDICATION.
To the Memory of
ALBERTA,
Who, in the absence of this her oldest
brother, crossed over the dark stream, smiling
as she went, this volume is most
affectionately dedicated by
_THE AUTHOR._
AUTHOR'S PREFACE.
The task assigned to the Negroes of the United States is unique in the
history of mankind.
He whose grandfather was a savage and whose father was a slave has been
bidden to participate in a highly complex civilization on terms of
equality with the most cultured, aggressive and virile type of all
times, the Anglo-Saxon.
The stupendous character of the task is apparent when it is called to
mind that the civilization in which they are to work out their
respective destinies is fitted to the nature of the Anglo-Saxon, because
he evolved it; while, on the other hand, the nature of the Negro _must
be fitted to the civilization_, thus necessitating the casting aside of
all that he had evolved.
This attempt on the part of the infant child of modern civilization to
keep pace with the hale and hearty parent thereof, has served to
contribute its quota of tragedies to the countless myriads that have
been enacted under the sun, since the Cosmic forces first broke forth
out of night into light, and began their upward, sightless, or shall we
rather say, full visioned tread in quest of the "music of the spheres"
and the higher purposes of the GREAT BEYOND.
What part in the great final programme these Cosmic forces have assigned
to the attempt of the Negro to journey by the side of the white man,
none are yet able to say, the situation being still in process of
unfoldment.
While we watch with becoming reverence and muse thereon, we catch up our
lyre to sing to the memory of those slain in their name, if not by their
order.
Very respectfully yours,
THE AUTHOR.
CONTENTS.
I. A Girl Perplexed
II. The Cause Revealed but not Removed
III. Other Actors
IV. A Lady who did not know that she was a Lady
V. What a Kiss Did
VI. Up to Date Aristocracy in a Negro Church
VII. Rev. Josiah Nerve, D. D. S.
VIII. He Narrowly Escapes
IX. The Pit is Dug
X. The Victims
XI. Murder
XII. The Visit of a Policeman
XIII. Backward, then Forward
XIV. As Least Expected
XV. An Awful Resolve
XVI. A Political Trick
XVII. Paving the Way
XVIII. John Wysong Confesses
XIX. Added Sorrows
XX. Speaker Lanier
XXI. The Hanging
XXII. Worse than Death
XXIII. Full of Joy
XXIV. Opposing the Wedding
XXV. Erma and an Assassin
XXVI. Name the Chapter After you Read It
XXVII. The Funeral
PROEM.
A farmer who is planting corn in a fertile field, halts beneath the
shade of a huge oak to rest at noon.
Accidentally a grain of corn drops from his bag, finds lodgement in the
soil, and in time begins to grow.
The grains that fell in the field will have their difficulties in
reaching maturity.
There is the danger of too much water, of the drought, of the coming
worms.
But the grain that came to life under the oak has its _peculiar_
struggles.
It must contend for sustenance with the roots of the oak.
It must wrestle with the shade of the oak.
The life of this isolated grain of corn is one continuous tragedy.
OVERSHADOWED is the story of this grain of corn, the Anglo-Saxon being
the oak, and the Negro the plant struggling for existence.
To be true to life, the story must indeed be a sombre one.
So, OVERSHADOWED is a tragedy--a story of sorrow and suffering.
Yet the gloom is enlivened by the presence of a heroic figure, a
beautiful, noble girl, who stands unabashed in the presence of every
ill.
OVERSHADOWED does not point the way out of the dungeon which it
describes, but it clearly indicates the task before the reformer when he
comes.
If you have time and inclination for such a recital--the curtain rises
and the play begins.
OVERSHADOWED.
CHAPTER I.
A GIRL, PERPLEXED.
To-and-fro, to-and-fro, with hurried, restless tread, Erma Wysong walked
her parlor floor, forgetful of the young man who sat in a corner and
gazed at her, with all of his powers of sight apparently doing double
duty. Her hair, slightly coarse of thread, glistening as if in pride of
its extreme blackness, was combed away from a brow that was exceedingly
pretty and formed a part of a head that forewarned you to expect the
possessor thereof to have an intellect of a very high order. A few
unruly locks of her glossy hair had escaped from the grasp confining the
others backward, and were hanging forward as if to peep into her tender
brown eyes so full of soul; or, to tantalize a very prettily formed
nose; or, to tempt a bite from a row of pearls even and gleamingly
white; or, to nestle upon a cheek the tenderness and ruddiness of which
were standing invitations for gentle pressure.
Erma, nearly tall, a happy medium between the plump and the lithe, the
perfection of symmetry, her whole frame a series of divinely fashioned
curves, paced to and fro, her beautiful face wearing a look of mental
perplexity. First her right hand and then her left tossed back with a
nervous jerk the straying locks.
Astral Herndon, a tall and exceedingly handsome young man, who was
paying her a call, sat in an armchair in a corner of the small room,
and, with body bent forward, was looking intently at Erma, as has been
stated, his entire soul ablaze with curiosity to know what had so
operated upon the mind of the erstwhile winsome, laughing, merry Erma,
as to cause her to break off abruptly an ordinary conversation and begin
her restless journeyings to-and-fro across her parlor floor, vouchsafing
to him not a word of apology or explanation, and apparently oblivious of
his presence. The transition from the lively gay to the deathly sad, was
so quick, so queer, so utterly inconsistent with all that he had
hitherto known of Erma--it was so far from anything warranted by the
rather commonplace conversation in which they had been engaged, that he
was very naturally in the depths of wonderland, staring with all his
might. He saw her thin, red lips quiver, as if with deep emotion. He saw
repressed by a would-be secret bite of the lips, an entire flood of
tears, save a truant one, that would steal its way down anyhow. He saw a
clasping, a griping of the hands as though the fair one was being
hurried to the verge of despair. He could, as it were, trace in her
actions the progress that her mind was making toward a precipice,
reluctant to go and yet impelled by some irresistible force.
Astral Herndon sat watching her, his surprise and curiosity deepening
into concern and anxiety. At length, when he could bear it no longer, he
arose and said in a low, sweet voice that trembled with emotion, "Erma!"
Something in his voice went straight to Erma's wandering soul, and, as
though not of herself, she turned slowly around and mechanically lifted
her gaze to meet the dark, glowing eyes of Astral Herndon. She felt her
soul leave her with a rush and run to embrace a mate that was coming
forth from the eyes before her, and she cried, "Oh! I see! Oh! I see!
Oh! I see!" and unconsciously stretched out her arms toward Astral as if
to receive him. Astral advanced toward Erma, but this movement on his
part broke the spell and she shrank away from him and sat down.
Astral was now more mystified than ever. He vaguely felt that somehow he
was intermingled with Erma's thoughts, but as to how it had come about,
or as to what was the nature of her thoughts regarding him, he was in
absolute ignorance. Erma, now fully conscious of how she had been
acting, vainly sought to redeem herself by an endeavor to conduct an
animated conversation, not offering, however, to Astral any explanation
of her seeming rudeness to him. But after a heroic struggle to keep up
the conversation, she blurted out, all of a sudden, "Mr. Herndon, do you
not, can you not see that I am in the deepest sort of trouble? Why do
you not get up and go home?" Saying this, she fell to sobbing violently,
burying her face in her hands. Astral arose and got his hat and went on
tiptoe to the door. Just before he went out, he cast a look of deepest
love at the weeping girl. If he had only gone to her and lifted her to a
resting place on his bosom--but the UNSEEN power that ordains that two
souls shall journey through earth together, also chooses, it would seem,
the hallowed spot; chooses the precious and never to be forgotten
_moment_ when soul is unveiled to soul; chooses the exact degree of the
development that shall exist in each at the hour of the mating.
So, the UNSEEN sent Astral _forth_ and not _to_ Erma's side.
As he stepped out upon the doorstep, the queen of the night wrapped his
noble brow with her silver cords in wanton playfulness. The city clock
was striking the hour of ten, rather dolefully, he thought. He slowly
wended his way toward his home, stopping ever and anon to cast a look of
love, mingled with perplexity, in the direction of Erma's residence.
"Strange, sweet girl," he murmured softly to himself, "I thought that I
knew her." Time and again he stopped, and, looking in her direction,
repeated this monologue. At last he reached home, and throughout the
sleepless night uttered the self-same words.
As for Erma, she sat in the exact attitude in which he left her. The
hours of the night, aided by the light of the moon, groped their way
through a sleeping world. At length the birds, ere they went forth in
quest of their daily bread, held their morning praise service, as if to
rebuke the prayerless man. From their little hearts and throats
quivering with joyous emotions, they told the God of the sparrow how
glad they were that they were yet allowed to flit about in his glorious
world. The sun, remembering his many unfinished tasks of the previous
day, and suspicious ever of the work of the night, came bolting upward
and hurled his myriad pointed spear to strike down the morning mists
that sulkily obscured his vision. The awakened world came rushing forth
from the land of sleep and dream.
But Erma, beautiful morning glory, bruised over night and failing to
respond to the greeting kiss of the returning Sun, began the performance
of her duties, perplexed in mind, sad at heart, weary from much
thinking, desponding of a solution of the problems that fretted her
spirit.