_EMANCIPATION OF THE BONDMEN.--CONCLUSION._
A week had elapsed since Augustus became a captive; when, one cloudy
afternoon, Dan Pepperill returned alone to the mountain cave. Pomp met
him at the entrance.
"All safe?"
"I be durned if they ain't!" said Dan, exultant. "The ol' man, and the
nigger, and the gal, and Jim's wife and darters inter the bargain! Went
with 'em myself all the way, by stage and rail, till I seen 'em over the
line inter ol' Kentuck'. Durned if I didn't wish I war gwine for good
myself."
"You shall go now if you will. I have been waiting only for you. Cudjo
is dead. All the rest are gone. There is nothing to keep me here. Will
you go back to the rebels, or make a push with us for the free states?
Speak quick!"
Pepperill only groaned.
"Nine more have joined since Jim came. They make a strong party, all
armed, and determined to fight their way through. They are already
twenty miles away; but we will overtake them to-morrow. I am to guide
them. I know every cave and defile. Will you come?"
"Pomp, ye know I'd be plaguy glad ter; but 'tain't so ter be! I hain't
no gre't fancy fur this secesh business, that ar' a fact. But I'm in
fur't, and I reckon I sh'll haf' ter put it through;" and Dan heaved a
deep sigh of regret. Without knowing it, he was a fatalist. Being too
weak or inert to resist the hand of despotism laid upon him, he yielded
to its weight and accepted it as destiny. The rebel ranks have been
filled with such.
Pomp smiled with mingled pity and derision. "Good by, then! I hope this
war will do something for your class as well as for mine--you need it as
much! Wait here, and you shall have company."
He took a lantern, and entered the interior chamber of the cave. After
the lapse of many minutes he returned, dragging, as from a dungeon, into
the light of day, a wretch who could scarcely have expected ever to
behold that blessed boon again,--he was so abject, so filled with joy
and trembling. It was Deslow. Then turning to the corner where Augustus
sat confined, the negro cut his bonds and lifted him to his feet. Poor
Bythewood, rheumatic, stiff in the joints, and terribly wasted by
anxiety and chagrin, presented a scarcely less piteous spectacle than
Deslow; nor were his fallen spirits revived by the sight of this craven,
whom he had supposed to be long since past the memory of the wrong he
had done him, and the earthly passion for revenge.
"My friends," said Pomp, leading them to the entrance, and showing them
to each other in the gray glimmer of that cloudy afternoon, "our little
accounts are now closed for the present, and my business with you ends.
You are at liberty to depart. Deslow, do not hate too bitterly this man
for betraying you into my hands. Remember that you set the example of
treachery, and that the cause to which you are both sworn is itself
founded on treachery. As for you, Mr. Bythewood, I trust that you will
pardon the inconvenience I have found it necessary to subject you to. I
have restrained you of your liberty for some days. You restrained me of
mine for nearly as many years. I have no longer any ill will towards
either of you. Go in peace. I emancipate you. I shall not hunt you with
hounds, because I have been your master for a little while. I shall not
put iron collars on your necks. I shall neither brand nor beat you. You
are free! Does the word sound pleasant to your ears? Think then of those
to whom it would sound just as sweet. Has the rule of a hard master
seemed grievous to you? Remember those to whom it is no less grievous.
If might makes right, then you have been as much my property as ever
black man was yours. Is there no law, no justice, but the power of the
strongest? You have had a few days' experience of that power, and can
judge what a life's experience of it might be. Reflect upon it, my
friends."
He led them to the opening of the cave. Then he pointed to the clouds.
"You cannot see the sun; but the sun is there. You do not see God,
through the troubled affairs of this world; but God is over all. He
governs, although you have left him quite out of your plans. Your plans
are, no doubt, very great and mighty,--but see!"--passing over his knee
the cord with which Bythewood had been bound. "This is the chain with
which you bind my brothers and sisters. It is strong. You have drawn it
very tight about them. But you thought to draw it tighter still, to hold
them fast forever; and look, you have broken it!"
So saying, he displayed with a smile the two fragments of the rope that
had snapped like a mere string in his hands.
"So tyranny is made to defeat itself!"--trampling the ends under his
feet. "I have said it. Remember!"
Uttering these last words, he walked backwards slowly, resumed his rifle
and lantern, and disappeared in the dark recesses of the cave. The freed
prisoners then, joining Pepperill, took their way slowly down the
mountain, sadder if not wiser men.
The reappearance of Bythewood was a signal for sending immediately two
full companies to capture the cave. They succeeded; but they captured
nothing else. Pomp, escaping through the sink, was already miles away on
the trail of the refugees.
* * * * *
Thus ends the story of Cudjo's Cave. Other conclusion, to give it
dramatic completeness, it ought, perhaps, to have; but the struggles, of
which we have here witnessed the beginning, have not yet ended [Nov.,
1863]; and one can scarcely be expected to describe events before they
transpire.
We may add, however, that Mr. Villars, Virginia, and Toby, arrived
safely at their destination,--a small town on the borders of
Ohio,--where they were cordially welcomed by relatives of the family.
There, three weeks later, they were visited by two very suspicious
looking characters,--one a bronzed and bearded young man, robust, rough,
with an eye like an eagle's gleaming from under his old slouched hat,
whom nobody, I am sure, would ever have taken for a Quaker schoolmaster;
the other a stout, ruddy, blue-eyed, laughing, ragged lad of sixteen,
who certainly did not pass for a rebel deserter. Strange to say, these
pilgrims of the dusty roads and rocky wildernesses were welcomed (not to
speak it profanely) like angels from heaven by the old man, his
daughter, and Toby,--their brown hands shaken, their coarse, torn
clothes embraced, and their sunburnt faces kissed, with a rapture
amazing to strangers of the household. They were travelling (as the
younger remarked in an accent which betrayed his Teutonic origin) to
"Pennsylwany," the home of the elder; and they had come thus far out of
their way to make this angels' visit.
With these two Barber Jim had journeyed as far as Cincinnati, where he
found his family comfortably provided for by persons to whose
benevolence Mr. Villars had recommended them. The other refugees had
also got safely over the mountains, after a march full of toils and
dangers; and nearly all were now in the federal camps. A long history,
full of deep and painful interest, might be written concerning the
subsequent fortunes of these men, and of their families and neighbors
left behind,--a history of hardships, of forced separations and ruined
homes,--of starvation in woods and caves to which loyal citizens were
driven by the rage of persecution,--and of terrible retribution.
Stackridge, Grudd, and many of their brother refugees, had the joy of
participating in those military movements of last summer, by which East
Tennessee was relieved; of beholding the tremendous ruin which the blind
pride of their foes had pulled down upon itself; and of witnessing the
jubilee of a patriotic people released from a remorseless and unsparing
tyranny.
A word of Pomp. Have you read the newspaper stories of a certain negro
scout, who, by his intrepidity, intelligence, and wonderful celerity of
movement, has rendered such important services to the Army of the
Cumberland? He is the man.
Dan Pepperill fell in the battle of Stone River, fighting in a cause he
never loved--the type of many such. Bythewood, after losing his
influence at home, and trying various fortunes, became attached to the
staff of the notorious Roger A. Pryor, in whose disgrace he shared, when
that long-haired rebel chief was reduced to the ranks for cowardice.
As for Carl, he is now a stalwart corporal in the --th Pennsylvania
regiment. He serves under a dear friend of his, known as the "Fighting
Quaker," and distinguished for that rare combination of military and
moral qualities which constitutes the true hero.
I regret that I cannot brighten these prosaic last pages with the halo
of a wedding. But Penn had said, "Our country first!" and Virginia,
heroic as he, had answered bravely, "Go!" Whether they will ever be
happily united on earth, who can say? But this we know: the golden halo
of the love that maketh one has crowned their united souls, and, with
perfect patience and perfect trust, they wait.
_L'ENVOY._
The foregoing pages are, as the writer sincerely believes, true to
history and life in all important particulars. In order to give form and
unity to the narrative, characters and incidents have been brought
together within a much narrower compass, both of time and space, than
they actually occupied: events have been described as occurring in the
summer of 1861, many of which did not take place till some months later;
and certain other liberties have been taken with facts. Two separate and
distinct caves have been connected, in the story, by expanding both into
one, which is for the most part imaginary, but which, I trust, will not
be considered as a too improbable fiction in a region where caves and
"sinks" abound.
Lastly, is an apology needed for the scenes of violence here
depicted?--Neither do I, O gentle reader, delight in them. But the book
that would be a mirror of evil times, must show some repulsive features.
And this book was written, not to please merely, but for a sterner
purpose.
For peaceful days, a peaceful and sunny literature: and may Heaven
hasten the time when there shall be no more strife, and no more human
bondage; when under the folds of the starry flag, from the lake chain to
the gulf, and from sea to sea, freedom, and peace, and righteousness
shall reign; when all men shall love each other, and the nations shall
know God!