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Stories by American Authors
VOLUME IX
_MARSE CHAN_
BY THOMAS NELSON PAGE
_MR. BIXBY'S CHRISTMAS VISITOR_
BY CHARLES S. GAGE
_ELI_
BY C. H. WHITE
_YOUNG STRONG OF "THE CLARION"_
BY MILICENT WASHBURN SHINN
_HOW OLD WIGGINS WORE SHIP_
BY CAPTAIN ROLAND T. COFFIN
"----_MAS HAS COME_"
BY LEONARD KIP
NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
1896
COPYRIGHT, 1885, BY
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
_The Stories in this Volume are protected by copyright, and are
printed here by authority of the authors or their representatives._
[Illustration: Thos. N. Page]
MARSE CHAN.
A TALE OF OLD VIRGINIA.
BY THOMAS NELSON PAGE.
_Century Magazine April, 1884._
One afternoon, in the autumn of 1872, I was riding leisurely down
the sandy road that winds along the top of the water-shed between
two of the smaller rivers of eastern Virginia. The road I was
travelling, following "the ridge" for miles, had just struck me as
most significant of the character of the race whose only avenue of
communication with the outside world it had formerly been. Their once
splendid mansions, now fast falling to decay, appeared to view from
time to time, set back far from the road, in proud seclusion among
groves of oak and hickory now scarlet and gold with the early frost.
Distance was nothing to this people; time was of no consequence to
them. They desired but a level path in life, and that they had,
though the way was longer and the outer world strode by them as they
dreamed.
I was aroused from my reflections by hearing some one ahead of me
calling, "Heah!--heah-whoo-oop, heah!"
Turning the curve in the road, I saw just before me a negro standing,
with a hoe and a watering-pot in his hand. He had evidently just
gotten over the "worm-fence" into the road, out of the path which led
zigzag across the "old field" and was lost to sight in the dense
growth of sassafras. When I rode up, he was looking anxiously back
down this path for his dog. So engrossed was he that he did not even
hear my horse, and I reined in to wait until he should turn around and
satisfy my curiosity as to the handsome old place half a mile off from
the road.
The numerous out-buildings and the large barns and stables told that
it had once been the seat of wealth, and the wild waste of sassafras
that covered the broad fields gave it an air of desolation that
greatly excited my interest. Entirely oblivious of my proximity, the
negro went on calling, "Whoo-oop, heah!" until along the path, walking
very slowly and with great dignity, appeared a noble-looking old
orange and white setter, gray with age, and corpulent with excessive
feeding. As soon as he came in sight, his master began:
"Yes, dat you! You gittin' deaf as well as bline, I s'pose! Kyarnt
heah me callin', I reckon? Whyn't yo' come on, dawg?"
The setter sauntered slowly up to the fence and stopped without even
deigning a look at the speaker, who immediately proceeded to take the
rails down, talking meanwhile:
"Now, I got to pull down de gap, I s'pose! Yo' so sp'ilt yo' kyahn'
hardly walk. Jes' ez able to git over it as I is! Jes' like white
folks--t'ink 'cuz you's white and I's black, I got to wait on yo' all
de time. Ne'm mine, I ain' gwi' do it!"
The fence having been pulled down sufficiently low to suit his
dogship, he marched sedately through, and, with a hardly perceptible
lateral movement of his tail, walked on down the road. Putting up the
rails carefully, the negro turned and saw me.
"Sarvent, marster," he said, taking his hat off. Then, as if
apologetically for having permitted a stranger to witness what was
merely a family affair, he added: "He know I don' mean nothin' by what
I sez. He's Marse Chan's dawg, an' he's so ole he kyahn git long no
pearter. He know I'se jes' prodjickin' wid 'im."
"Who is Marse Chan?" I asked; "and whose place is that over there--and
the one a mile or two back--the place with the big gate and the carved
stone pillars?"
"Marse Chan," said the darkey, "he's Marse Channin'--my young marster;
an' dem places--dis one's Weall's, an' de one back dyar wid de rock
gate-pos's is ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin's. Dey don' nobody live dyar
now, 'cep' niggers. Arfter de war some one or nudder bought our place,
but his name done kind o' slipped me. I nuvver hearn on 'im befo'; I
think dey's half-strainers. I don' ax none on 'em no odds. I lives
down de road heah, a little piece, an' I jes' steps down of a evenin'
and looks arfter de graves."
"Well, where is Marse Chan?" I asked.
"Hi! don' you know? Marse Chan, he went in de army. I wuz wid 'im. Yo'
know he warn' gwine an' lef' Sam."
"Will you tell me all about it?" I said, dismounting.
Instantly, and as if by instinct, the darkey stepped forward and took
my bridle. I demurred a little; but with a bow that would have honored
old Sir Roger, he shortened the reins, and taking my horse from me,
led him along.
"Now tell me about Marse Chan," I said.
"Lawd, marster, hit's so long ago, I'd a'most forgit all about it, ef
I hedn' been wid him ever sence he wuz born. Ez 'tis, I remembers it
jes' like 'twuz yistiddy. Yo' know Marse Chan an' me--we wuz boys
togedder. I wuz older'n he wuz, jes' de same ez he wuz whiter'n me. I
wuz born plantin' corn time, de spring arfter big Jim an' de six
steers got washed away at de upper ford right down dyar b'low de
quarters ez he wuz a bringin' de Chris'mas things home; an' Marse
Chan, he warn' born tell mos' to der harves' arfter my sister Nancy
married Cun'l Chahmb'lin's Torm, 'bout eight years arfterwards.
"Well, when Marse Chan wuz born dey wuz de grettes' doin's at home you
ever did see. De folks all hed holiday, jes' like in de Chris'mas. Ole
marster (we didn' call 'im _ole_ marster tell arfter Marse Chan wuz
born--befo' dat he wuz jes' de marster, so)--well, ole marster, his
face fyar shine wid pleasure, an' all de folks wuz mighty glad, too,
'cause dey all loved ole marster, and aldo' dey did step aroun' right
peart when ole marster wuz lookin' at 'em, dyar warn' nyar han' on de
place but what, ef he wanted anythin', would walk up to de back poach,
an' say he warn' to see de marster. An' ev'ybody wuz talkin' 'bout de
young marster, an' de maids an' de wimmens 'bout de kitchen wuz sayin'
how 'twuz de purties' chile dey ever see; an' at dinner-time de mens
(all on 'em hed holiday) come roun' de poach an' ax how de missis an'
de young marster wuz, an' ole marster come out on de poach an' smile
wus'n a 'possum, an' sez, 'Thankee! Bofe doin' fust rate, boys;' an'
den he stepped back in de house, sort o' laughin' to hisse'f, an' in a
minute he come out ag'in wid de baby in he arms, all wrapped up in
flannens an' things, an' sez, 'Heah he is, boys.' All de folks den,
dey went up on de poach to look at 'im, drappin' dey hats on de steps,
an' scrapin' dey feets ez dey went up. An' pres'n'y ole marster,
lookin' down at we all chil'en all packed togedder down deah like a
parecel o' sheep-burrs, cotch sight o' _me_ (he knowed my name, 'cause
I use' to hole he hoss fur 'im sometimes; but he didn' know all de
chil'en by name, dey wuz so many on 'em), an' he sez, 'Come up heah.'
So up I goes tippin', skeered like, an' old marster sez, 'Ain' you
Mymie's son?' 'Yass, seh,' sez I. 'Well,' sez he, 'I'm gwine to give
you to yo' young Marse Channin' to be his body-servant,' an' he put de
baby right in my arms (it's de truth I'm tellin' you!), an' yo' jes'
ought to a-heard de folks sayin', 'Lawd! marster, dat boy'll drap dat
chile!' 'Naw, he won't,' sez marster; 'I kin trust 'im.' And den he
sez: 'Now, Sam, from dis time you belong to yo' young Marse Channin';
I wan' you to tek keer on 'im ez long ez he lives. You are to be his
boy from dis time. An' now,' he sez, 'carry 'im in de house.' An' he
walks arfter me an' opens de do's fur me, an' I kyars 'im in my arms,
an' lays 'im down on de bed. An' from dat time I wuz tooken in de
house to be Marse Channin's body-servant.
"Well, you nuvver see a chile grow so. Pres'n'y he growed up right
big, an' ole marster sez he must have some edication. So he sont 'im
to school to ole Miss Lawry down dyar, dis side o' Cun'l Chahmb'lin's,
an' I use' to go 'long wid 'im an' tote he books an' we all's snacks;
an' when he larnt to read an' spell right good, an' got 'bout so-o
big, old Miss Lawry she died, an' ole marster said he mus' have a man
to teach 'im an' trounce 'im. So we all went to Mr. Hall, whar kep' de
school-house beyant de creek, an' dyar we went ev'y day, 'cep'
Sat'd'ys of co'se, an' sich days ez Marse Chan din' warn' go, an' ole
missis begged 'im off.
"Hit wuz down dyar Marse Chan fust took notice o' Miss Anne. Mr. Hall,
he taught gals ez well ez boys, an' Cun'l Chahmb'lin he sont his
daughter (dat's Miss Anne I'm talkin' about). She wuz a leetle bit o'
gal when she fust come. Yo' see, her ma wuz dead, an' ole Miss Lucy
Chahmb'lin, she lived wid her brudder an' kep' house for 'im; an' he
wuz so busy wid politics, he didn' have much time to spyar, so he sont
Miss Anne to Mr. Hall's by a 'ooman wid a note. When she come dat day
in de school-house, an' all de chil'en looked at her so hard, she tu'n
right red, an' tried to pull her long curls over her eyes, an' den put
bofe de backs of her little han's in her two eyes, an' begin to cry to
herse'f. Marse Chan he was settin' on de een' o' de bench nigh de do',
an' he jes' reached out an' put he arm roun' her an' drawed her up to
'im. An' he kep' whisperin' to her, an' callin' her name, an' coddlin'
her; an' pres'n'y she took her han's down an' begin to laugh.
"Well, dey 'peared to tek' a gre't fancy to each udder from dat time.
Miss Anne she warn' nuthin' but a baby hardly, an' Marse Chan he wuz a
good big boy 'bout mos' thirteen years ole, I reckon. Hows'ever, dey
sut'n'y wuz sot on each udder an' (yo' heah me!) ole marster an' Cun'l
Chahmb'lin dey 'peared to like it 'bout well ez de chil'en. Yo' see
Cun'l Chahmb'lin's place j'ined ourn, an' it looked jes' ez natural
fur dem two chil'en to marry an' mek it one plantation, ez it did fur
de creek to run down de bottom from our place into Cun'l Chahmb'lin's.
I don' rightly think de chil'en thought 'bout gittin' _married_, not
den, no mo'n I thought 'bout marryin' Judy when she wuz a little gal
at Cun'l Chahmb'lin's, runnin' 'bout de house, huntin' fur Miss Lucy's
spectacles; but dey wuz good frien's from de start. Marse Chan he use'
to kyar Miss Anne's books fur her ev'y day, an' ef de road wuz muddy
or she wuz tired, he use' to tote her; an' 'twarn' hardly a day passed
dat he didn' kyar her some'n' to school--apples or hick'y nuts, or
some'n'. He wouldn' let none o' de chil'en tease her, nudder. Heh! One
day, one o' de boys poked he finger at Miss Anne, an' arfter school
Marse Chan he axed 'im 'roun' hine de school-house out o' sight, an'
ef he didn' whop 'im!
"Marse Chan, he wuz de peartes' scholar ole Mr. Hall hed, an' Mr. Hall
he wuz mighty proud o' 'im. I don' think he use' to beat 'im ez much
ez he did de udders, aldo' he wuz de head in all debilment dat went
on, jes' ez he wuz in sayin' he lessons.
"Heh! one day in summer, jes' 'fo' de school broke up, dyah come up a
storm right sudden, an' riz de creek (dat one yo' cross' back yonder),
an' Marse Chan he toted Miss Anne home on he back. He ve'y off'n did
dat when de parf wuz muddy. But dis day when dey come to de creek, it
had done washed all de logs 'way. 'Twuz still mighty high, so Marse
Chan he put Miss Anne down, an' he took a pole an' waded right in. Hit
took 'im long up to de shoulders. Den he waded back, an' took Miss
Anne up on his head an' kyar'd her right over. At fust she wuz
skeered; but he tol' her he could swim an' wouldn' let her git hu't,
an' den she let 'im kyar her 'cross, she hol'in' his han's. I warn'
'long dat day, but he sut'n'y did dat thing.
"Ole marster he wuz so pleased 'bout it, he giv' Marse Chan a pony;
an' Marse Chan rode 'im to school de day arfter he come, so proud, an'
sayin' how he wuz gwine to let Anne ride behine 'im; an' when he come
home dat evenin' he wuz walkin'. 'Hi! where's yo' pony?' said ole
marster. 'I give 'im to Anne,' says Marse Chan. 'She liked 'im, an'--I
kin walk.' 'Yes,' sez ole marster, laughin', 'I s'pose you's already
done giv' her yo'se'f, an' nex' thing I know you'll be givin' her this
plantation and all my niggers.'
"Well, about a fortnight or sich a matter arfter dat, Cun'l Chahmb'lin
sont over an' invited all o' we all over to dinner, an' Marse Chan wuz
'spressly named in de note whar Ned brought; an' arfter dinner he made
ole Phil, whar wuz his ker'ige-driver, bring roun' Marse Chan's pony
wid a little side-saddle on 'im, an' a beautiful little hoss wid a
bran'-new saddle an' bridle on 'im; an' he gits up an' meks Marse Chan
a gre't speech, an' presents 'im de little hoss; an' den he calls Miss
Anne, an' she comes out on de poach in a little ridin' frock, an' dey
puts her on her pony, an' Marse Chan mounts his hoss, an' dey goes to
ride, while de grown folks is a-laughin' an' chattin' an' smokin' dey
cigars.
"Dem wuz good ole times, marster--de bes' Sam ever see! Dey wuz, in
fac'! Niggers didn' hed nothin' 't all to do--jes' hed to 'ten' to de
feedin', an' cleanin' de hosses, an' doin' what de marster tell 'em to
do; an' when dey wuz sick, dey had things sont 'em out de house, an'
de same doctor come to see 'em whar 'ten' to de white folks when dey
wuz po'ly. Dyar warn' no trouble nor nothin'.
"Well, things tuk a change arfter dat. Marse Chan he went to de
bo'din' school, whar he use' to write to me constant. Ole missis use'
to read me de letters, an' den I'd git Miss Anne to read 'em ag'in to
me when I'd see her. He use' to write to her too, an' she use' to
write to him too. Den Miss Anne she wuz sont off to school too. An' in
de summer time dey'd bofe come home, an' yo' hardly knowed whether
Marse Chan lived at home or over at Cun'l Chahmb'lin's. He wuz over
dyah constant. 'Twuz always ridin' or fishin' down dyah, in de river;
or sometimes he' go over dyah, an' 'im an' she'd go out an' set in de
yard onder de trees; she settin' up mekin' out she wuz knittin' some
sort o' bright-cullored some'n', wid de grarss growin' all up 'g'inst
her, an' her hat th'owed back on her neck, an' he readin' to her out
books; an' sometimes dey'd bofe read out de same book, fust one an'
den todder. I use' to see 'em! Dat wuz when dey wuz growin' up like.
"Den ole marster he run for Congress, an' ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin he wuz
put up to run 'g'inst ole marster by de Dimicrats; but ole marster he
beat 'im. Yo' know he wuz gwine do dat! Co'se he wuz! Dat made ole
Cun'l Chahmb'lin mighty mad, and dey stopt visitin' each udder
reg'lar, like dey had been doin' all 'long. Den Cun'l Chahmb'lin he
sort o' got in debt, an' sell some o' he niggers, an' dat's de way de
fuss begun. Dat's whar de lawsuit cum from. Ole marster he didn' like
nobody to sell niggers, an' knowin' dat Cun'l Chahmb'lin wuz sellin'
o' his, he writ an' offered to buy his M'ria an' all her chil'en,
'cause she hed married our Zeek'yel. An' don' yo' t'ink, Cun'l
Chahmb'lin axed ole marster mo' 'n th'ee niggers wuz wuth fur M'ria.
Befo' old marster bought her, dough, de sheriff cum an' levelled on
M'ria an' a whole parecel o' udder niggers. Ole marster he went to de
sale, an' bid for 'em; but Cun'l Chahmb'lin he got some one to bid
'g'inst ole marster. Dey wuz knocked out to ole marster dough, an' den
dey hed a big lawsuit, an' ole marster wuz agwine to co't, off an' on,
fur some years, till at lars' de co't decided dat M'ria belonged to
ole marster. Ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin den wuz so mad he sued ole marster
for a little strip o' lan' down dyah on de line fence, whar he said
belonged to 'im. Ev'ybody knowed hit belonged to ole marster. Ef yo'
go down dyah now, I kin show it to yo', inside de line fence, whar it
hed done bin ever since long befo' ole marster wuz born. But Cun'l
Chahmb'lin wuz a mons'us perseverin' man, an' ole marster he wouldn'
let nobody run over 'im. No, dat he wouldn'! So dey wuz agwine down to
co't about dat, fur I don' know how long, till ole marster beat 'im.
"All dis time, yo' know, Marse Chan wuz a-goin' back'ads an' for'ads
to college, an' wuz growed up a ve'y fine young man. He wuz a ve'y
likely gent'man! Miss Anne she hed done mos' growed up, too--wuz
puttin' her hyar up like ole missis use' to put hers up, an' 'twuz
jes' ez bright ez de sorrel's mane when de sun cotch on it, an' her
eyes wuz gre't big dark eyes, like her pa's, on'y bigger an' not so
fierce, an' 'twarn' none o' de young ladies ez purty ez she wuz. She
an' Marse Chan still set a heap o' sto' by one 'nudder, but I don'
t'ink dey wuz easy wid each udder ez when he used to tote her home
from school on his back. Marse Chan he use' to love de ve'y groun' she
walked on, dough, in my 'pinion. Heh! His face 'twould light up
whenever she come into chu'ch, or anywhere, jes' like de sun hed come
th'oo a chink on it suddenly.
"Den ole marster lost he eyes. D' yo' ever hyah 'bout dat? Heish!
Didn' yo'? Well, one night de big barn cotch fire. De stables, yo'
know, wuz under de big barn, an' all de hosses wuz in dyah. Hit
'peared to me like 'twarn' no time befo' all de folks an' de
neighbors dey come, an' dey wuz a-totin' water, an' a-tryin' to save
de po' critters, an' dey got a heap on 'em out; but de ker'ige-hosses
dey wouldn' come out, an' dey wuz a-runnin' back'ads an' for'ads
inside de stalls, a-nikerin' an' a-screamin', like dey knowed dey time
hed come. Yo' could heah 'em so pitiful, an' pres'n'y ole marster said
to Ham Fisher (he wuz de ker'ige-driver), 'Go in dyah an' try to save
'em; don' let 'em bu'n to death.' An' Ham he went right in. An' jes'
arfter he got in, de shed whar it hed fus' cotch fell in, an' de
sparks shot 'way up in de air; an' Ham didn' come back, an' de fire
begun to lick out under de eaves over whar de ker'ige-hosses' stalls
wuz, an' all of a sudden ole marster tu'ned and kissed ole missis, who
wuz standin' nigh him, wid her face jes' ez white ez a sperit's, an',
befo' anybody knowed what he wuz gwine do, jumped right in de do', an'
de smoke come po'in' out behine 'im. Well, seh, I nuvver 'specks to
hyah tell Judgment sich a soun' ez de folks set up. Ole missis she
jes' drapt down on her knees in de mud an' prayed out loud. Hit
'peared like her pra'r wuz heard; for in a minit, right out de same
do', kyarin' Ham Fisher in his arms, come ole marster, wid his clo'es
all blazin'. Dey flung water on 'im, an' put 'im out; an', ef you
b'lieve me, yo' wouldn' a-knowed 'twuz ole marster. Yo' see, he hed
find Ham Fisher done fall down in de smoke right by de ker'ige-hoss'
stalls, whar he sont him, an' he hed to tote 'im back in his arms
th'oo de fire what hed done cotch de front part o' de stable, an' to
keep de flame from gittin' down Ham Fisher's th'ote he hed tuk off his
own hat and mashed it all over Ham Fisher's face, an' he hed kep' Ham
Fisher from bein' so much bu'nt; but _he_ wuz bu'nt dreadful! His
beard an' hyar wuz all nyawed off, an' his face an' han's an' neck wuz
scorified terrible. Well, he jes' laid Ham Fisher down, an' then he
kind o' staggered for'ad, an' ole missis ketch' 'im in her arms. Ham
Fisher, he warnt bu'nt so bad, an' he got out in a month or two; an'
arfter a long time, ole marster he got well, too; but he wuz always
stone bline arfter dat. He nuvver could see none from dat night.
"Marse Chan he comed home from college toreckly, an' he sut'n'y did
nuss ole marster faithful--jes' like a 'ooman. Den he took charge o'
de plantation arfter dat; an' I use' to wait on 'im jes' like when we
wuz boys togedder; an' sometimes we'd slip off an' have a fox-hunt,
an' he'd be jes' like he wuz in ole times, befo' ole marster got
bline, an' Miss Anne Chahmb'lin stopt comin' over to our house, an'
settin' onder de trees, readin' out de same book.
"He sut'n'y wuz good to me. Nothin' nuvver made no diffunce 'bout dat.
He nuvver hit me a lick in his life--an' nuvver let nobody else do it,
nudder.
"I 'members one day, when he wuz a leetle bit o' boy, ole marster hed
done tole we all chil'en not to slide on de straw-stacks; an' one day
me an' Marse Chan thought ole marster hed done gone 'way from home. We
watched him git on he hoss an' ride up de road out o' sight, an' we
wuz out in de field a-slidin' an' a-slidin', when up comes ole
marster. We started to run; but he hed done see us, an' he called us
to come back; an' sich a whoppin' ez he did gi' us!
"Fust he took Marse Chan, an' den he teched me up. He nuvver hu't me,
but in co'se I wuz a-hollerin' ez hard ez I could stave it, 'cause I
knowed dat wuz gwine mek him stop. Marse Chan he hed'n open he mouf
long ez ole marster wuz tunin' 'im; but soon ez he commence warmin' me
an' I begin to holler, Marse Chan he bu'st out cryin', an' stept right
in befo' ole marster, an' ketchin' de whop, sed:
"'Stop, seh! Yo' sha'n't whop 'im; he b'longs to me, an' ef you hit
'im another lick I'll set 'im free!'
"I wish yo' hed see ole marster. Marse Chan he warn' mo'n eight years
ole, an' dyah dey wuz--ole marster stan'in' wid he whop raised up, an'
Marse Chan red an' cryin', hol'in' on to it, an' sayin' I b'longst to
'im.
"Ole marster, he raise' de whop, an' den he drapt it, an' broke out in
a smile over he face, an' he chuck' Marse Chan onder der chin, an'
tu'n right roun' an' went away, laughin' to hisse'f, an' I heah' 'im
tellin' ole missis dat evenin', an' laughin' 'bout it.
"'Twan' so mighty long arfter dat when dey fust got to talkin' 'bout
de war. Dey wuz a-dictatin' back'ads an' for'ads 'bout it fur two or
th'ee years 'fo' it come sho' nuff, you know. Ole marster, he wuz a
Whig, an' of co'se Marse Chan he tuk after he pa. Cun'l Chahmb'lin, he
wuz a Dimicrat. He wuz in favor of de war, an' ole marster and Marse
Chan dey wuz agin' it. Dey wuz a-talkin' 'bout it all de time, an'
purty soon Cun'l Chahmb'lin he went about ev'vywhar speakin' an'
noratin' 'bout Firginia ought to secede; an' Marse Chan he wuz picked
up to talk agin' 'im. Dat wuz de way dey come to fight de duil. I
sut'n'y wuz skeered fur Marse Chan dat mawnin', an' he was jes' ez
cool! Yo' see, it happen so: Marse Chan he wuz a-speakin' down at de
Deep Creek Tavern, an' he kind o' got de bes' of ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin.
All de white folks laughed an' hoorawed, an' ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin--my
Lawd! I t'ought he'd 'a' bu'st, he wuz so mad. Well, when it come to
his time to speak, he jes' light into Marse Chan. He call 'im a
traitor, an' a ab'litionis', an' I don' know what all. Marse Chan, he
jes' kep' cool till de ole Cun'l light into he pa. Ez soon ez he name
ole marster, I seen Marse Chan sort o' lif' up he head. D' yo' ever
see a hoss rar he head up right sudden at night when he see somethin'
comin' to'ds 'im from de side an' he don' know what 'tis? Ole Cun'l
Chahmb'lin, he went right on. He said ole marster hed taught Marse
Chan; dat ole marster wuz a wuss ab'litionis' dan he son. I looked at
Marse Chan, an' sez to myse'f: 'Fo' Gord! old Cun'l Chahmb'lin better
min', an' I hedn' got de wuds out, when ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin 'cuse'
ole marster o' cheatin' 'im out o' he niggers, an' stealin' piece o'
he lan'--dat's de lan' I tole you 'bout. Well, seh, nex' thing I
knowed, I heahed Marse Chan--hit all happen right 'long togedder, like
lightnin' an' thunder when dey hit right at you--I heah 'im say:
"'Cun'l Chahmb'lin, what you say is false, an' yo' know it to be so.
You have wilfully slandered one of the pures' an' nobles' men Gord
ever made, an' nothin' but yo' gray hyars protects you.'
"Well, ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin, he ra'ed an' he pitch'd. He said he wan'
too ole, an' he'd show 'im so.
"'Ve'y well,' says Marse Chan.
"De meetin' broke up den. I wuz hol'in de hosses out dyar in de road
by de een' o' de poach, an' I see Marse Chan talkin' an' talkin' to
Mr. Gordon an' anudder gent'man, an' den he come out an' got on de
sorrel an' galloped off. Soon ez he got out o' sight, he pulled up,
an' we walked along tell we come to de road whar leads off to'ds Mr.
Barbour's. He wuz de big lawyer o' de country. Dar he tu'ned off. All
dis time he hedn' sed a wud, 'cep' to kind o' mumble to hisse'f now
an' den. When we got to Mr. Barbour's, he got down an' went in. Dat
wuz in de late winter; de folks wuz jes' beginnin' to plough fur corn.
He stayed dyar 'bout two hours, an' when he come out Mr. Barbour come
out to de gate wid 'im an' shake han's arfter he got up in de saddle.
Den we all rode off. 'Twuz late den--good dark; an' we rid ez hard
ez we could, tell we come to de ole school-house at ole Cun'l
Chahmb'lin's gate. When we got dar Marse Chan got down an' walked
right slow 'roun' de house. Arfter lookin' 'roun' a little while an'
tryin' de do' to see ef it wuz shet, he walked down de road tell he
got to de creek. He stop' dyar a little while an' picked up two or
three little rocks an' frowed 'em in, an' pres'n'y he got up an' we
come on home. Ez he got down, he tu'ned to me an', rubbin' de sorrel's
nose, said: 'Have 'em well fed, Sam; I'll want 'em early in de
mawnin'.'
"Dat night at supper he laugh an' talk, an' he set at de table a long
time. Arfter ole marster went to bed, he went in de charmber an' set
on de bed by 'im talkin' to 'im an' tellin' 'im 'bout de meetin' an'
ev'ything; but he never mention ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin's name. When he
got up to come out to de office in de yard, whar he slept, he stooped
down an' kissed 'im jes' like he wuz a baby layin' dyar in de bed, an'
he'd hardly let ole missis go at all. I knowed some'n wuz up, an' nex'
mawnin' I called 'im early befo' light, like he tole me, an' he
dressed an' come out pres'n'y jes' like he wuz goin' to chu'ch. I had
de hosses ready, an' we went out de back way to'ds de river. Ez we
rode along, he said:
"'Sam, you an' I wuz boys togedder, wa'n't we?'
"'Yes,' sez I, 'Marse Chan, dat we wuz.'
"'You have been ve'y faithful to me,' sez he, 'an' I have seen to it
that you are well provided fur. You wan' to marry Judy, I know, an'
you'll be able to buy her ef you want to.'
"Den he tole me he wuz goin' to fight a duil, an' in case he should
git shot, he had set me free an' giv' me nuff to tek keer o' me an' my
wife ez long ez we lived. He said he'd like me to stay an' tek keer o'
ole marster an' ole missis ez long ez dey lived, an' he said it
wouldn' be very long, he reckoned. Dat wuz de on'y time he voice
broke--when he said dat; an' I couldn' speak a wud, my th'oat choked
me so.
"When we come to de river, we tu'ned right up de bank, an' arfter
ridin' 'bout a mile or sich a matter, we stopped whar dey wuz a little
clearin' wid elder bushes on one side an' two big gum trees on de
udder, an' de sky wuz all red, an' de water down to'ds whar de sun wuz
comin' wuz jes' like de sky.
"Pres'n'y Mr. Gordon he come wid a 'hogany box 'bout so big 'fore 'im,
an' he got down, an' Marse Chan tole me to tek all de hosses an' go
'roun' behine de bushes whar I tell you 'bout--off to one side; an'
'fore I got 'roun' dar, ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin an' Mr. Hennin an' Dr.
Call come ridin' from tudder way, to'ds ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin's. When
dey hed tied dey hosses, de udder gent'mens went up to whar Mr. Gordon
wuz, an' arfter some chattin' Mr. Hennin step' off 'bout fur ez 'cross
dis road, or mebbe it mout be a little furder; an' den I seed 'em
th'oo de bushes loadin' de pistils, an' talk' a little while; an' den
Marse Chan an' ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin walked up wid de pistils in dey
han's, an' Marse Chan he stood wid his face right to'ds de sun. I seen
it shine on 'im jes' ez it come up over de low groun's, an' he look'
like he did sometimes when he come out of chu'ch. I wuz so skeered I
couldn' say nuthin'. Ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin could shoot fust rate, an'
Marse Chan he never missed.
"Den I heahed Mr. Gordon say, 'Gent'mens, is yo' ready?' and bofe of
'em sez, 'Ready,' jes' so.
"An' he sez, 'Fire, one, two'--an' ez he said 'one,' ole Cun'l
Chahmb'lin raised he pistil an' shot right at Marse Chan. De ball went
th'oo his hat. I seen he hat sort o' settle on he head ez de bullit
hit it, an' _he_ jes' tilted his pistil up in de a'r an' shot--_bang_;
an' ez de pistil went _bang_, he sez to Cun'l Chahmb'lin, 'I mek you a
present to yo' fam'ly, seh!'
"Well, dey had some talkin' arfter dat. I didn' git rightly what it
wuz; but it 'peared like Cun'l Chahmb'lin he warn't satisfied, an'
wanted to have anudder shot. De seconds dey wuz talkin', an' pres'n'y
dey put de pistils up, an' Marse Chan an' Mr. Gordon shook han's wid
Mr. Hennin an' Dr. Call, an' come an' got on dey hosses. An' Cun'l
Chahmb'lin he got on his horse an' rode away wid de udder gent'mens,
lookin' like he did de day befo' when all de people laughed at 'im.
"I b'lieve ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin wan' to shoot Marse Chan, anyway!
"We come on home to breakfast, I totin' de box wid de pistils befo' me
on the roan. Would you b'lieve me, seh, Marse Chan he nuvver said a
wud 'bout it to ole marster or nobody. Ole missis didn' fin' out 'bout
it for mo'n a month, an' den, Lawd! how she did cry and kiss Marse
Chan; an' ole marster, aldo' he never say much, he wuz jes' ez please'
ez ole missis. He call' me in de room an' made me tole 'im all 'bout
it, an' when I got th'oo he gi' me five dollars an' a pyar of
breeches.
"But ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin he nuvver did furgive Marse Chan, and Miss
Anne she got mad too. Wimmens is mons'us onreasonable nohow. Dey's
jes' like a catfish: you cann' tek' hole on 'em like udder folks, an'
when you gits 'em yo' can n' always hole 'em.
"What meks me think so? Heaps o' things--dis: Marse Chan he done gi'
Miss Anne her pa jes' ez good ez I gi' Marse Chan's dawg sweet
'taters, an' she git mad wid 'im ez if he hed kill 'im 'stid o'
sen'in' 'im back to her dat mawnin' whole an' soun'. B'lieve me! she
wouldn' even speak to 'im arfter dat!
"Don' I 'member dat mawnin'!
"We wuz gwine fox-huntin', 'bout six weeks or sich a matter arfter de
duil, an' we met Miss Anne ridin' 'long wid anudder lady an' two
gent'mens whar wuz stayin' at her house. Dyar wuz always some one or
nudder dyar co'ting her. Well, dat mawnin' we meet 'em right in de
road. 'Twuz de fust time Marse Chan had see her sence de duil, an' he
raises he hat ez he pahss, an' she looks right at 'im wid her head up
in de yair like she nuvver see 'im befo' in her born days; an' when
she comes by me, she sez, 'Good-mawnin', Sam!' Gord! I nuvver see
nuthin' like de look dat come on Marse Chan's face when she pahss 'im
like dat. He gi' de sorrel a pull dat fotch 'im back settin' down in
de san' on he hanches. He ve'y lips wuz white. I tried to keep up wid
'im, but 'twarn' no use. He sont me back home pres'n'y, an' he rid on.
I sez to myself, 'Cun'l Chahmb'lin, don' yo' meet Marse Chan dis
mawnin'. He ain' bin lookin' 'roun' de ole school-house, whar he an'
Miss Anne use' to go to school to ole Mr. Hall together, fur nuffin'.
He won' stan' no prodjickin' to-day.'
"He nuvver come home dat night tell 'way late, an' ef he'd been
fox-huntin' it mus' ha' been de ole red whar lives down in de
greenscum mashes he'd been chasin'. De way de sorrel wuz gormed up wid
sweat an' mire sut'n'y did hu't me. He walked up to de stable wid he
head down all de way, an' I'se seen 'im go eighty miles of a winter
day, an' prance into de stable at night ez fresh ez ef he hed jes'
cantered over to ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin's to supper. I nuvver seen a
hoss beat so sence I knowed de fetlock from de fo'lock, an' bad ez he
wuz he wan' ez bad ez Marse Chan.
"Whew! he didn' git over dat thing, seh--he nuvver did git over it.
"De war come on jes' den, an' Marse Chan wuz elected cap'n; but he
wouldn' tek it. He said Firginia hadn' seceded, an' he wuz gwine stan'
by her. Den dey 'lected Mr. Gordon cap'n.
"I sut'n'y did wan' Marse Chan to tek de place, cuz I knowed he wuz
gwine tek me wid 'im. He wan' gwine widout Sam. An' beside, he look so
po' an' thin, I thought he wuz gwine die.
"Of co'se ole missis she heard 'bout it, an' she met Miss Anne in de
road, an' cut her jes' like Miss Anne cut Marse Chan.
"Ole missis, she wuz proud ez anybody! So we wuz mo' strangers dan ef
we hadn' live' in a hunderd miles of each udder. An' Marse Chan he wuz
gittin' thinner an' thinner, an' Firginia she come out, an' den Marse
Chan he went to Richmond an' listed, an' come back an' sey he wuz a
private, an' he didn' know whe'r he could tek me or not. He writ to
Mr. Gordon, hows'ever, and 'twuz decided that when he went I wuz to go
'long an' wait on him, an' de cap'n too. I didn' min' dat, yo' know,
long ez I could go wid Marse Chan, an' I like' Mr. Gordon, anyways.
"Well, one night Marse Chan come back from de offis wid a telegram dat
say, 'Come at once,' so he wuz to start nex' mawnin'. He uniform wuz
all ready, gray wid yaller trimmin's, an' mine wuz ready too, an' he
had ole marster's sword, whar de State gi' 'im in de Mexikin war; an'
he trunks wuz all packed wid ev'rything in 'em, an' my chist wuz
packed too, an' Jim Rasher he druv 'em over to de depo' in de waggin,
an' we wuz to start nex' mawnin' 'bout light. Dis wuz 'bout de las' o'
spring, you know. Dat night ole missis made Marse Chan dress up in he
uniform, an' he sut'n'y did look splendid wid he long mustache an' he
wavin' hyar and he tall figger.
"Arfter supper he come down an' sez: 'Sam, I wan' you to tek dis note
an' kyar it over to Cun'l Chahmb'lin's, an' gi' it to Miss Anne wid
yo' own han's, an' bring me wud what she sez. Don' let any one know
'bout it, or know why you've gone.' 'Yes, seh,' sez I.
"Yo' see, I knowed Miss Anne's maid over at ole Cun'l
Chahmb'lin's--dat wuz Judy whar is my wife now--an' I knowed I could
wuk it. So I tuk de roan an' rid over, an' tied 'im down de hill in de
cedars, an' I wen' 'roun' to de back yard. 'Twuz a right blowy sort o'
night; de moon wuz jes' risin', but de clouds wuz so big it didn'
shine 'cep' th'oo a crack now an' den. I soon foun' my gal, an' arfter
tellin' her two or three lies 'bout herse'f, I got her to go in an' ax
Miss Anne to come to de do'. When she come, I gi' her de note, an'
arfter a little while she bro't me anudder, an' I tole her good-by,
an' she gi' me a dollar, an' I come home an' gi' de letter to Marse
Chan. He read it, an' tole me to have de hosses ready at twenty minits
to twelve at de corner of de garden. An' jes' befo' dat he come out ez
ef he wuz gwine to bed, but instid he come, an' we all struck out
to'ds Cun'l Chahmb'lin's. When we got mos' to de gate, de hosses got
sort o' skeered, an' I see dey wuz some'n or somebody standin' jes'
inside; an' Marse Chan he jumpt off de sorrel an' flung me de bridle
and he walked up.
"She spoke fust ('twuz Miss Anne had done come out dyar to meet Marse
Chan), an' she sez, jes' ez cold ez a chill, 'Well, seh, I granted
your favor. I wished to relieve myse'f of de obligations you placed me
under a few months ago, when you made me a present of my father, whom
you fust insulted an' then prevented from gittin' satisfaction.'
"Marse Chan he didn' speak fur a minit, an' den he said: 'Who is with
you?' (Dat wuz ev'y wud.)
"'No one,' sez she; 'I came alone.'
"'My God!' sez he, 'you didn' come all through those woods by yourse'f
at this time o' night?'
"'Yes, I'm not afraid,' sez she. (An' heah dis nigger! I don' b'lieve
she wuz.)
"De moon come out, an' I cotch sight o' her stan'in' dyar in her white
dress, wid de cloak she had wrapped herse'f up in drapped off on de
groun', an' she didn' look like she wuz 'feared o' nuthin'. She wuz
mons'us purty ez she stood dyar wid de green bushes behine her, an'
she hed jes' a few flowers in her breas'--right hyah--and some leaves
in her sorrel hyar; an' de moon come out an' shined down on her hyar
an' her frock, an' 'peared like de light wuz jes' stan'in' off it ez
she stood dyar lookin' at Marse Chan wid her head tho'd back, jes'
like dat mawnin' when she pahss Marse Chan in de road widout speakin'
to 'im, an' sez to me, 'Good mawnin', Sam.'
"Marse Chan, he den tole her he hed come to say good-by to her, ez he
wuz gwine 'way to de war nex' mawnin'. I wuz watchin' on her, an' I
tho't when Marse Chan tole her dat, she sort o' started an' looked up
at 'im like she wuz mighty sorry, an' 'peared like she didn' stan'
quite so straight arfter dat. Den Marse Chan he went on talkin' right
fars' to her; an' he tole her how he had loved her ever sence she wuz
a little bit o' baby mos', an' how he nuvver 'membered de time when he
hedn' 'spected to marry her. He tole her it wuz his love for her dat
hed made 'im stan' fust at school an' collige, an' hed kep' 'im good
an' pure; an' now he wuz gwine 'way, wouldn' she let it be like 'twuz
in ole times, an' ef he come back from de war wouldn' she try to t'ink
on him ez she use' to do when she wuz a little guirl?
"Marse Chan he had done been talkin' so serious, he hed done tuk Miss
Anne's han', an' wuz lookin' down in her face like he wuz list'nin'
wid his eyes.
"Arfter a minit Miss Anne she said somethin', an' Marse Chan he cotch
her udder han' an' sez:
"'But if you love me, Anne?'
"When he sed dat, she tu'ned her head 'way from 'im, an' wait' a
minit, an' den she sed--right clear:
"'But I don' love yo'.' (Jes' dem th'ee wuds!) De wuds fall right
slow--like dirt falls out a spade on a coffin when yo's buryin'
anybody an' seys, 'Uth to uth.' Marse Chan he jes' let her hand drap,
an' he stiddy hisse'f 'g'inst de gate-pos', an' he didn' speak
toreckly. When he did speak, all he sez wuz:
"'I mus' see you home safe.'
"I 'clar, marster, I didn' know 'twuz Marse Chan's voice tell I look
at 'im right good. Well, she wouldn' let 'im go wid her. She jes'
wrap' her cloak 'roun' her shoulders, an' wen' 'long back by herse'f,
widout doin' more'n jes' look up once at Marse Chan leanin' dyah
'g'inst de gate-pos' in he sodger clo'es, wid he eyes on de groun'.
She said 'Good-by' sort o' sorf, an' Marse Chan, widout lookin' up,
shake han's wid her, an' she wuz done gone down de road. Soon ez she
got 'mos' 'roun' de curve, Marse Chan he followed her, keepin' under
de trees so ez not to be seen, an' I led de hosses on down de road
behine 'im. He kep' 'long behine her tell she wuz safe in de house,
an' den he come an' got on he hoss, an' we all come home.
"Nex' mawnin' we all come off to j'ine de army. An' dey wuz a-drillin'
an' a-drillin' all 'bout for a while an' dey went 'long wid all de
res' o' de army, an I went wid Marse Chan an' clean he boots, an' look
arfter de tent, an' tek keer o' him an' de hosses. An' Marse Chan, he
wan' a bit like he use' to be. He wuz so solum an' moanful all de
time, at leas' 'cep' when dyah wuz gwine to be a fight. Den he'd
peartin' up, an' he alwuz rode at de head o' de company 'cause he wuz
tall; an' hit wan' on'y in battles whar all his company wuz dat _he_
went, but he use' to volunteer whenever de cun'l wanted anybody to
fine out anythin', an' 'twuz so dangersome he didn' like to mek one
man go no sooner'n anudder, yo' know, an' ax'd who'd volunteer. _He_
'peared to like to go prowlin' aroun' 'mong dem Yankees, an' he use'
to tek me wid 'im whenever he could. Yes, seh, he sut'n'y wuz a good
sodger! He didn' mine bullets no more'n he did so many draps o' rain.
But I use' to be pow'ful skeered sometimes. It jes' use' to 'pear like
fun to 'im. In camp he use' to be so sorrerful he'd hardly open he
mouf. You'd 'a' tho't he wuz seekin', he used to look so moanful; but
jes' le' 'im git into danger, an' he use' to be like ole times--jolly
an' laughin' like when he wuz a boy.
"When Cap'n Gordon got he leg shot off, dey mek Marse Chan cap'n on de
spot, 'cause one o' de lieutenants got kilt de same day, an' tor'er
one (named Mr. Ronny) wan' no 'count, an' all de company sed Marse
Chan wuz de man.
"An' Marse Chan he wuz jes' de same. He didn' never mention Miss
Anne's name, but I knowed he wuz thinkin' on her constant. One night
he wuz settin' by de fire in camp, an' Mr. Ronny--he wuz de secon'
lieutenant--got to talkin' 'bout ladies, an' he say all sorts o'
things 'bout 'em, an' I see Marse Chan kinder lookin' mad; an' de
lieutenant mention Miss Anne's name. He hed been courtin' Miss Anne
'bout de time Marse Chan fit de duil wid her pa, an' Miss Anne hed
kicked 'im, dough he wuz mighty rich, 'cause he warn' nuthin' but a
half-strainer, an' 'cause she like Marse Chan, I believe, dough she
didn' speak to 'im; an' Mr. Ronny he got drunk, an' 'cause Cun'l
Chahmb'lin tole 'im not to come dyah no more, he got mighty mad. An'
dat evenin' I'se tellin' yo' 'bout, he wuz talkin', an' he mention'
Miss Anne's name. I see Marse Chan tu'n he eye 'roun' on 'im an' keep
it on he face, an' pres'n'y Mr. Ronny said he wuz gwine hev some fun
dyah yit. He didn' mention her name dat time; but he said dey wuz all
on 'em a parecel of stuck-up 'risticrats, an' her pa wan' no gent'man
anyway, and _she_----I don' know what he wuz gwine say (he nuvver said
it), fur ez he got dat far Marse Chan riz up an' hit 'im a crack, an'
he fall like he hed been hit wid a fence-rail. He challenged Marse
Chan to fight a duil, an' Marse Chan he excepted de challenge, an' dey
wuz gwine fight; but some on 'em tole 'im Marse Chan wan' gwine mek a
present o' him to his fam'ly, an' he got somebody to bre'k up de duil;
'twan' nuthin' dough, but he wuz 'fred to fight Marse Chan. An' purty
soon he lef' de comp'ny.
"Well, I got one o' de gent'mens to write Judy a letter for me, an' I
tole her all 'bout de fight, an' how Marse Chan knock Mr. Ronny over
fur speakin' discontemptuous o' Cun'l Chahmb'lin, an' I tole her how
Marse Chan wuz a-dyin' fur love o' Miss Anne. An' Judy she gits Miss
Anne to read de letter fur her. Den Miss Anne she tells her pa,
an'--you mind, Judy tells me all dis arfterwards, an' she say when
Cun'l Chahmb'lin hear 'bout it, he wuz settin' on de poach, an' he set
still a good while, an' den he sey to hisse'f:
"'Well, he carn' he'p bein' a Whig.'
"An' den he gits up an' walks up to Miss Anne an' looks at her right
hard; an' Miss Anne she hed done tu'n away her head an' wuz makin' out
she wuz fixin' a rose-bush 'g'inst de poach; an' when her pa kep'
lookin' at her, her face got jes' de color o' de roses on de bush, an'
pres'n'y her pa sez:
"'Anne!'
"An' she tu'ned 'roun', an' he sez:
"'Do yo' want 'im?'
"An' she sez, 'Yes,' an' put her head on he shoulder an' begin to cry;
an' he sez:
"'Well, I won' stan' between yo' no longer. Write to 'im an' say so.'
"We didn' know nuthin' 'bout dis den. We wuz a-fightin' an' a-fightin'
all dat time; an' come one day a letter to Marse Chan, an' I see 'im
start to read it in his tent, an' he face hit look so cu'ious, an' he
han's trembled so I couldn' mek out what wuz de matter wid 'im. An' he
fold' de letter up an' wen' out an' wen' 'way down 'hine de camp, an'
stayed dyah 'bout nigh an hour. Well, seh, I wuz on de lookout for 'im
when he come back, an', fo' Gord, ef he face didn' shine like a
angel's. I say to myse'f, 'Um'm! ef de glory o' Gord ain' done shine
on 'im!' An' what yo' 'spose 'twuz?
"He tuk me wid 'im dat evenin', an' he tell me he hed done git a
letter from Miss Anne, an' Marse Chan he eyes look like gre't big
stars, an' he face wuz jes' like 'twuz dat mawnin' when de sun riz up
over de low groun's, an' I see 'im stan'in' dyah wid de pistil in he
han', lookin' at it, an' not knowin' but what it mout be de lars'
time, an' he done mek up he mine not to shoot ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin fur
Miss Anne's sake, what writ 'im de letter.
"He fold' de letter wha' was in his han' up, an' put it in he inside
pocket--right dyar on de lef' side; an' den he tole me he tho't mebbe
we wuz gwine hev some warm wuk in de nex' two or th'ee days, an arfter
dat ef Gord speared 'im he'd git a leave o' absence fur a few days,
an' we'd go home.
"Well, dat night de orders come, an' we all hed to git over to'ds
Romney; an' we rid all night till 'bout light; an' we halted right on
a little creek, an' we stayed dyah till mos' breakfas' time, an' I see
Marse Chan set down on de groun' 'hine a bush an' read dat letter over
an' over. I watch 'im, an' de battle wuz a-goin' on, but we hed orders
to stay 'hine de hill, an' ev'y now an' den de bullets would cut de
limbs o' de trees right over us, an' one o' dem big shells what goes
'_Awhar--awhar--awhar!_' would fall right 'mong us; but Marse Chan he
didn' mine it no mo'n nuthin'! Den it 'peared to git closer an'
thicker, an' Marse Chan he calls me, an' I crep' up, an' he sez:
"'Sam, we'se goin' to win in dis battle, an' den we'll go home an' git
married; an' I'se goin' home wid a star on my collar.' An' den he sez,
'Ef I'm wounded, kyar me home, yo' hear?' An' I sez, 'Yes, Marse
Chan.'
"Well, jes' den dey blowed boots an' saddles an' we mounted; an' de
orders come to ride 'roun' de slope, an' Marse Chan's company wuz de
secon'; an' when we got 'roun' dyah, we wuz right in it. Hit wuz de
wust place ever dis nigger got in. An' dey said, 'Charge 'em!' an' my
king! ef ever you see bullets fly, dey did dat day. Hit wuz jes' like
hail; an' we wen' down de slope (I long wid de res') an' up de hill
right to'ds de cannons, an' de fire wuz so strong dyar (dey hed a
whole rigiment o' infintrys layin' down dyar onder de cannons) our
lines sort o' broke an' stop; de cun'l was kilt, an' I b'lieve dey wuz
jes' 'bout to bre'k all to pieces, when Marse Chan rid up an' cotch
hol' de fleg an' hollers, 'Foller me!' an' rid strainin' up de hill
'mong de cannons. I seen 'im when he went, de sorrel four good lengths
ahead o' ev'y udder hoss, jes' like he use' to be in a fox-hunt, an'
de whole rigiment right arfter 'im. Yo' ain' nuvver hear thunder! Fust
thing I knowed, de roan roll' head over heels an' flung me up 'g'inst
de bank, like yo' chuck a nubbin over 'g'inst de foot o' de corn pile.
An' dat's what kep' me from bein' kilt, I 'specks. Judy she say she
think 'twuz Providence, but I think 'twuz de bank. Of co'se,
Providence put de bank dyar, but how come Providence nuvver saved
Marse Chan! When I look' 'roun', de roan wuz layin' dyah by me, stone
dead, wid a cannon-ball gone 'mos' th'oo him, an' our men hed done
swep' dem on t' udder side from de top o' de hill. 'Twan' mo'n a minit,
de sorrel come gallupin' back wid his mane flyin', an' de rein hangin'
down on one side to his knee. 'Dyar!' says I, 'fo' Gord! I 'specks dey
done kill Marse Chan, an' I promised to tek care on him.'
"I jumped up an' run over de bank, an' dyar wid a whole lot o' dead
men, an' some not dead yit, onder one o' de guns wid de fleg still in
he han', an' a bullet right th'oo he body, lay Marse Chan. I tu'n' 'im
over an' call 'im 'Marse Chan!' but 'twan' no use, he wuz done gone
home, sho' 'nuff. I pick' 'im up in my arms wid de fleg still in he
han's, an' toted 'im back jes' like I did dat day when he wuz a baby,
an' ole marster gin 'im to me in my arms, an' sez he could trus' me,
an' tell me to tek keer on 'im long ez he lived. I kyar'd 'im 'way off
de battlefiel' out de way o' de balls, an' I laid 'im down onder a big
tree tell I could git somebody to ketch de sorrel for me. He wuz
cotched arfter awhile, an' I hed some money, so I got some pine plank
an' made a coffin dat evenin', an' wrapt Marse Chan's body up in de
fleg, an' put 'im in de coffin; but I didn' nail de top on strong,
'cause I knowed ole missis wan' see 'im; an' I got a' ambulance an'
set out for home dat night. We reached dyar de nex' evenin', arfter
travellin' all dat night an' all nex' day.
"Hit 'peared like somethin' hed tole ole missis we wuz comin' so; for
when we got home she wuz waitin' for us--done drest up in her best
Sunday-clo'es, an' stan'in' at de head o' de big steps, an' ole
marster settin' in his big cheer--ez we druv up de hill to'ds de
house, I drivin' de ambulance an' de sorrel leadin' 'long behine wid
de stirrups crost over de saddle.
"She come down to de gate to meet us. We took de coffin out de
ambulance an' kyar'd it right into de big parlor wid de pictures in
it, whar dey use' to dance in ole times when Marse Chan wuz a
school-boy, an' Miss Anne Chahmb'lin use' to come over, an' go wid ole
missis into her chamber an' tek her things off. In dyar we laid de
coffin on two o' de cheers, an' ole missis nuvver said a wud; she jes'
looked so ole an' white.
"When I had tell 'em all 'bout it, I tu'ned right 'roun' an' rid over
to Cun'l Chahmb'lin's, 'cause I knowed dat wuz what Marse Chan he'd
'a' wanted me to do. I didn' tell nobody whar I wuz gwine, 'cause yo'
know none on 'em hadn' nuvver speak to Miss Anne, not sence de duil,
an' dey didn' know 'bout de letter.
"When I rid up in de yard, dyar wuz Miss Anne a-stan'in' on de poach
watchin' me ez I rid up. I tied my hoss to de fence, an' walked up de
parf. She knowed by de way I walked dyar wuz somethin' de motter, an'
she wuz mighty pale. I drapt my cap down on de een' o' de steps an'
went up. She nuvver opened her mouf; jes' stan' right still an' keep
her eyes on my face. Fust, I couldn' speak; den I cotch my voice, an'
I say, 'Marse Chan, he done got he furlough.'
"Her face was mighty ashy, an' she sort o' shook, but she didn' fall.
She tu'ned roun' an' said, 'Git me de ker'ige!' Dat wuz all.
"When de ker'ige come 'roun', she hed put on her bonnet, an' wuz
ready. Ez she got in, she sey to me, 'Hev yo' brought him home?' an'
we drove 'long, I ridin' behine.
"When we got home, she got out, an' walked up de big walk--up to de
poach by herse'f. Ole missis hed done fin' de letter in Marse Chan's
pocket, wid de love in it, while I wuz 'way, an' she wuz a-waitin' on
de poach. Dey sey dat wuz de fust time ole missis cry when she find de
letter, an' dat she sut'n'y did cry over it, pintedly.
"Well, seh, Miss Anne she walks right up de steps, mos' up to ole
missis stan'in' dyar on de poach, an' jes' falls right down mos' to
her, on her knees fust, an' den flat on her face right on de flo',
ketchin' at ole missis' dress wid her two han's--so.
"Ole missis stood for 'bout a minit lookin' down at her, an' den she
drapt down on de flo' by her, an' took her in bofe her arms.