THE TARKARS AT DABNEY’S PLANTATION
Dabney’s plantation lay in the cane brake country--a part of the river
region, so-called from the miles of towering cane. It was a wilderness,
every part strangely alike, in which even those most familiar with
it could be easily lost. Here, according to the narrative of James
Dennison, the slave who was left in charge and who afterwards married
Kanko--one of their number--and of the surviving Tarkars, they were
kept for eleven days, but in a state of constant change, being
transferred each day from one part of the swamp to another. They were
allowed to speak only in whispers, for there was a chance that some
one passing on the river might hear strange voices. At the end of the
eleventh day clothes were brought to them and they were put aboard the
steamer _Commodore_ and carried to The Bend in Clark County, where
the Alabama and Tombigbee rivers meet and where Burns Meaher had a
plantation.
There they were lodged each night under a wagon shed, and driven each
morning before daybreak back into the swamp, where they remained until
dark. Understanding no word and knowing not what was expected of them,
they were made to know the driver’s wishes by a shooing sound--such
as would drive chickens or geese. In this strange land, among strange
faces and an unknown tongue, the Tarkars say that at first they almost
grieved themselves to death.
Meaher sent word secretly to those disposed to buy. They were piloted
to the place of concealment by Jim Dennison. The Africans were placed
in two long rows, the women on one side and the men on the other--the
buyers standing between, and carefully examining them--even looking
at their teeth. Those selected would be put to one side, and when the
purchaser was ready to depart, he would make his ownership known to
them by waving his hand around the group selected, then bringing it to
his breast. The Tarkars could not understand these transactions--they
only knew their numbers were gradually growing less. Day after day they
saw some of their kinsmen or comrades led away--to what fate they knew
not. Some were sold and taken to Selma. Of their march through the
woods one pathetic and picturesque incident has come to me. As they
marched through the strange land--tired, dejected, friendless--knowing
not where they were going or what would be their destiny--a circus,
moving from place to place, chanced to pass along the country road.
To avoid danger or suspicion, the Africans were concealed behind the
bushes with their backs to the passing show. As it passed, one of the
elephants trumpeted; joy transformed the Tarkars, spread over their
features, and ran through their limbs. To them the sound was as a cry
from home, and as with one voice, gesticulating, tears streaming from
their eyes, they shouted: “Elé, Elé! Argenacou, Argenacou!” (“Home,
Home! Elephant, Elephant!”) Of this small band--two still live--a man
and wife--and those of the tribe near Mobile still receive news of them
now and then.
As time passed and the Tarkars continued inconsolable, Captain Tim
Meaher recommended that they be put to some kind of work. They look
back upon this as the first happy episode of their life in the new
land. When they were taken into the fields for the first time, their
astonishment was very great when they saw civilization’s agricultural
methods. “We astonish to see the mule behind the plow to pull”
(Kazoola). The contrast in fertility made them feel that the American
soil was accursed and their own blessed. There they had but to scratch
the top soil and whatever they planted grew; but in America there
was nothing but “work, work, work.” The Tarkar would stand for no
mistreatment. Once an overseer attempted something which the women
considered as such and he was overpowered by them and given a sound
thrashing. Naturally of agricultural and industrious habits they soon
came to understand Southern crops and were very successful in raising
corn, cotton, beans, peas, cane, pumpkins, etc. This experience was of
great advantage to them when they were afterwards thrown upon their own
resources. Their homes to-day are characterized by excellent gardens
and many varieties of fruit trees.
After war was declared there was little danger of exposure, and the
Africans belonging to Foster, to Jim and Tim Meaher were taken to the
Meaher settlement, at what is known to-day as Magazine Point, where
they were kindly treated by their respective owners. Those left at
Burns Meaher’s plantation tell of great hardship. When they first
arrived they were given one pair of shoes and never any more. Before
daybreak they were sent to the fields to work and kept hard at it until
night, when they returned home by torchlight. After the surrender,
these joined the others of their tribe at Magazine Point.
[Illustration: Wreck of the “Clotilde.”]