CHAPTER I.

[Illustration]

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[Illustration]

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Samantha Among the Colored Folks

“MY IDEAS ON THE RACE PROBLEM”

By

JOSIAH ALLEN’S WIFE

(MARIETTA HOLLEY)

Illustrated by E. W. KEMBLE

[Illustration]

New York

Dodd, Mead and Company

1898

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COPYRIGHT, 1892, 1894,

BY

DODD, MEAD & COMPANY.

_All rights reserved._

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_To all who work for the

advancement of true liberty,

irrespective of color or sex,

this book is inscribed._

_MARIETTA HOLLEY_

_Bonnie View May, 1894_

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PUBLISHER’S NOTE.

SAMANTHA ON THE RACE PROBLEM was the title adopted for the editions of

this book that were issued exclusively for the subscription market.

In preparing the new edition for popular sale it has been deemed

advisable to change its title to SAMANTHA AMONG THE COLORED FOLKS as one

more in keeping with its character. Otherwise its contents remain the

same.

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LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

--------------

PAGE

“THEY WUZ TRACTS AND BIBLES” 7

UNCLE NATE GOWDEY 12

“THE DUMB FOOLS!” 18

A BLACK 21

“THE OLD AND FEEBLE ONES” 30

“I SOT DEMUTE” 34

“THE DARK FACES OF THESE APOSTLES” 40

“WITH PHILURY’S HELP” 46

CHARACTER SKETCH 51

“WHEN URY HAD THAT FIGHT WITH SAM” 56

MELINDA 61

MELINDA HAS A FIT 63

“IT WUZ ‘HOLD THE FORT’ HE BELCHED OUT 69

IN”

“I KETCHED HER BY HER LIMB” 73

PETER AND MELINDA ANN 77

DEACON HENZY 83

“JOSIAH’S BALD HEAD AND MINE” 86

THE COLORED CHILDREN 93

OLD DR. CORK 99

THE SLAVE WOMAN WHO POISONED THE CHILD 104

MADELINE 110

COLONEL SEYBERT 122

“LOW, BRUTAL, ENVIOUS MIND” 128

DEFENDING HIS HOME 133

THE LEADER 138

FELIX AND THE TEACHER 143

“THE OLD, THE FEEBLE” 149

“HIS OVERSEER” 153

“A LITTLE TUMBLE-DOWN COTTAGE” 155

CLEOPATRA 156

ROSY 161

“HE WUZ GLAD TO SET DOWN” 167

THE OLD NEGRO 172

“GAWGE PERKINS AM DAID” 176

ONE OF THE MOURNERS 179

“YOU CAN REPAIR YOUR DWELLIN’ HOUSE 185

“AND I HAVE GOT THE PANS” 189

“I AM NEEDED THERE” 192

“THE BUTTER-MAKER UP IN ZOAR” 194

“JOSIAH GIVE UP” 196

DEACON HUFFER 208

“UNDER THE WHITE CROSS” 211

THE JONESVILLIANS 215

“BOY LAUGHED” 220

RAYMOND FAIRFAX COLEMAN 223

“WITH A JUMPIN’ TOOTHACHE” 225

“THE RELATION ON MAGGIE’S SIDE” 230

BABE 237

“MY TONE RIZ UP” 239

“I HAD BEEN OUT A WALKIN’” 242

A POOR WHITE 244

ROSY’S BABY 254

URY 256

SOME NEIGHBORS 258

AUNT MELA 264

“DESPATCHED TO GET BUTTERMILK” 271

“THE BIG PIAZZA” 277

“A PERFECT DAGON” 279

A KU-KLUXER 291

“PILOT A HELPLESS UNIONIST” 296

“SET DOWN IN OUR SWAMP” 301

“HE HASTENED OFF” 305

“TO KISS SNOW AND BOY GOOD-NIGHT” 308

“AND KILLED HER HENS” 312

“ONEXPECTED COMPANY” 316

“MISERY” 320

“WHEREFOAH, BREDREN, LET US PRAY” 322

ABE 326

“HE WUZ A WALKIN’ UP AND DOWN” 331

“THIS DARK EARTH VALLEY” 334

HIRAM WIGGINS’S TWO DAUGHTERS 338

“A CLEAR RIVER RUNNING THROUGH” 343

“EVERYTHING WUZ READY” 347

“IN THE CHAIR OF THE RULER” 353

“FACED THE GANG OF MASKED MEN” 360

“WHEN THE MOON HAD RISEN” 363

“EXILED BIRDS” 369

VICTOR 373

“MAKIN’ SPEECHES” 375

FATHER GASPERIN 378

“FELIX, HIS WIFE AND LITTLE NED” 380

“I SOT OUT ON THE STOOP” 384

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[Illustration:

“THEY WUZ TRACTS AND BIBLES.”

]

CHAPTER I.

IT was entirely onexpected and onlooked for.

But I took it as a Decree, and done as well as I could, which is jest as

well as anybody ought to be expected to do under any circumstances,

either on my side or on hisen.

It was one of the relations on his side that come on to us entirely

onexpected and on the evenin’ stage that runs from Jonesville to

Loontown. He was a passin’ through this part of the country on business,

so he stopped off at Jonesville to see us.

He come with his portmanty and a satchel, and I mistrusted, after

consultin’ them signs in the privacy of my own mind, that he had come to

stay for quite a spell.

But I found in the fulness of time that my worst apprehensions wuz not

realized.

I found instead of pantaloons and vests and things which I suspected wuz

in the big satchel, I found out they wuz tracts and Bibles.

Why, I wuz fairly took aback when I discovered this fact, and felt

guilty to think I had been cast down, and spozed things that wuzn’t so.

But whether they are on his side or on your own, visitors that come when

you are deep in house-cleanin’, and most all your carpets took up, and

your beds oncorded, and your buttery shelves dry and arid, can’t be

welcomed with quite the cordiality you would show one in more different

and prosperous times.

But we found out after a little conversation that Cousin John Richard

Allen wuz a colporter, and didn’t lay out to stay only one night. So, as

I say, I done the best I could with him, and felt my conscience

justified.

He had a dretful good look to his face, for all mebby he wouldn’t be

called beautiful. His eyes wuz deep and brilliant and clear, with a

meanin’ in ’em that comes from a pure life and a high endeavor—a

generous, lovin’ soul.

Yes, though it wuz one on his side instid of mine, justice makes me say

he seemed to be a good feller, and smart as a whip, too. And he seemed

to feel real friendly and cousinly towards us, though I had never laid

eyes on him more than once or twice before. Josiah had known him when

they wuz boys.

He had lived in Vermont, and had been educated high, been through

college, and preachin’ schools of the best kind, and had sot out in life

as a minister, but bein’ broke up with quinsy, and havin’ a desire to be

in some Christian work, he took to colporterin’, and had been down in

the Southern States to work amongst the freedmen for years.

He went not long after the war closed. I guess he hated to give up

preachin’, for I believe my soul that he wanted to do good, and bein’ so

awful smart it wuz a cross, I know—and once in a while he would kind o’

forget himself, and fall into a sort o’ preachin’, eloquent style of

talkin’, even when he wuz conversin’ on such subjects as butter, and

hens, and farmin’, and such. But I know he did it entirely onbeknown to

himself.

And to the table—the blessin’ he asked wuz as likely a one as I ever see

run at anybody’s table, but it wuz middlin’ lengthy, as long about as a

small-sized sermon.

Josiah squirmed—I see he did, he squirmed hard, though he is a good

Christian man. He wuz afraid the cream biscuit would be spilte by the

delay; they are his favorites, and though I am fur from bein’ the one

that ought to speak of it, my biscuit are called delicious.

And though I hate to say it, hate to show any onwillingness to be

blessed to any length by so good a man and so smart a one—yet I must say

them biscuit wuzn’t the biscuit they would have been had the blessin’

been more briefer, and they had been eat earlier.

Howsomever, they wuz pretty good ones after all, and Cousin John Richard

partook of five right along one after the other, and seemed to enjoy the

fifth one jest as well as he did the earlier editions. They wuzn’t very

large, but light, and tender.

Wall, after supper, he and my pardner sot down in the settin’-room,

while I wuz a washin’ up the dishes, and a settin’ the sponge for my

griddle-cakes for breakfast.

And I hearn ’em a talkin’ about Uncle Noah, and Uncle Darius, and Cousin

Melinda, and Sophronia Ann, and Aunt Marrier and her children—and lots

more that I had never hearn of, or had forgot if I had.

They seemed to be a takin’ solid comfort, though I see that Cousin John

Richard every time he got a chance would kinder preach on ’em.

If there wuz a death amongst ’em that they talked over, John Richard

would, I see, instinctively and onbeknown to himself preach a little

funeral sermon on ’em, a first-rate one, too, though flowery, and draw

quite a lot of morals. Wall, I thought to myself, they are a takin’

sights of comfort together, and I am glad on it. I dearly love to see my

pardner happy.

When all of a sudden, jest as I had got my sponge all wet up, and

everything slick, and I wuz a washin’ my hands to the sink, I see there

wuz a more excited, voyalent axent a ringin’ out in my pardner’s voice,

I see he wuz a gettin’ het up in some argument or other, and I hurried

and changed my gingham bib apron for a white one, and took my knittin’

work and hastened into the room, bein’ anxious to avert horstilities,

and work for peace.

And I see I wuz only jest in time; for my companion wuz a gettin’

agitated and excited to a high degree, and Cousin John Richard all

rousted up.

And the very first words I hearn after I went in wuz these offensive and

quarrelsome words that do so much to stir up strife and dessensions—

They have madded me time and agin. They proceeded out of my companion’s

mouth, and the words wuz:

“Oh shaw!”

I see in a minute that John Richard couldn’t brook ’em. And I wunk to

Josiah Allen to stop, and let Cousin John Richard go on and say what he

wuz a minter, both as a visiter, who wuz goin’ to remain with us but a

short period, and also a relation, and a ex-minister.

My wink said all of this, and more. And my companion wuz affected by it.

But like a child a cryin’ hard after bein’ spanked, he couldn’t stop

short off all to once.

So he went on, but in fur mellerer axents, and more long-sufferin’er

ones:

“Wall, I say there is more talk than there is any need of. I don’t

believe things are to such a pass in the South. I don’t take much stock

in this Race Problem anyway. The Government whipped the South and freed

the niggers. And there it is, all finished and done with. And everything

seems quiet so fur as I can hear on.

“I hain’t heard nuthin’ about any difficulty to speak on, nor I don’t

believe Uncle Nate Gowdey has, or Sime Bently. And if there wuz much of

anything wrong goin’ on, one of us three would have been apt to have

hearn on it.

“For we are, some of us, down to the corners about every night, and get

all the news there is a stirrin’.

“Of course there is some fightin’ everywhere. Uncle Nate hearn of a new

fight last night, over to Loontown. We get holt of everything. And I

don’t believe there is any trouble down South, and if there is, they

will get along well enough if they are left alone, if there hain’t too

much said.”

[Illustration:

UNCLE NATE GOWDEY.

]

Sez John Richard, “I have lived in the South for years, and I know what

I am talking about. And I say that you Northern people, and in fact all

the nation, are like folks sitting on the outside of a volcano, laughing

and talking in your gay indifference, and thinking the whole nation is

in safety, when the flames and the lava torrents of destruction are

liable to burst out at any time and overwhelm this land in ruin.”

And then agin, though I hate to set it down—then agin did my pardner

give vent to them dangerous and quarrelsome sentiments before I could

reach him with a wink or any other precautionary measures. That rash man

said agin:

“Oh shaw!”

And I see, devoted Christian as John Richard wuz, the words gaulded him

almost more than he could endure, and he broke out in almost heated

axents, and his keen dark eye a flashin’, and says he:

“I tell you the storm is brewing! I have watched it coming up and

spreading over the land, and unless it is averted, destruction awaits

this people.”

His tone wuz a very preachin’ one, very, and I felt considerable

impressed by it; but Josiah Allen spoke up pert as a peacock, and sez

he:

“Why don’t the Southern folks behave themselves, then?”

And sez John Richard:

“Do you blame the Southern white folks exclusively?”

“Yes,” sez Josiah, in them same pert axents; “yes, of course I do.”

“Then that shows how short-sighted you are, how blind!”

“I can see as well as you can!” sez Josiah, all wrought up—“I don’t have

to wear goggles.”

Oh, how mortified, how mortified I felt! John Richard did wear blue

goggles when he wuz travellin’. But what a breach of manners to twit a

visiter of such a thing! Twit ’em of goggles, blue ones too! I felt as

if I should sink.

But I didn’t know Cousin John Richard Allen. He hadn’t give up ease and

comfort and the joys of a fireside, for principle’s sake, for nuthin’.

No personal allusions could touch him. The goggles fell onto him

harmlessly, and fell off agin. He didn’t notice ’em no more’n if they

hadn’t been throwed.

And he went on growin’ more and more sort o’ lifted up and

inspired-lookin’, and a not mindin’ what or who wuz round him. And sez

he:

“I tell you again the storm is rising; I hear its mutterings in the

distance, and it is coming nearer and nearer all the time.”

Josiah kinder craned his neck and looked out of the winder in a sort of

a brisk way. He misunderstood him a purpose, and acted as if John

Richard meant a common thunder-storm.

But Cousin John Richard never minded him, bein’ took up and intent on

what his own mind wuz a lookin’ at onbeknown to us—

“I have been amongst this people night and day for years; I have been in

the mansions of the rich, the ruins of the beautiful homes ruined by the

war, and in the cabins of the poor. I have been in their schools and

their churches, and the halls where the law is misadministered—I have

been through the Southern land from one end to the other—and I know what

I am talking about.

“I went there to try to help the freedmen. I knew these people so lately

enslaved were poor and ignorant, and I thought I could help them.

“But I was almost as ignorant as you are of the real state of affairs in

the South. But I have been there and seen for myself, and I tell you,

and I tell this nation, that we are on the eve of another war if

something is not done to avert it.”

My pardner wuz jest a openin’ his mouth in a derisive remark, but I

hitched my chair along and trod on his foot, and onbeknown to me it wuz

the foot on which he wuz raisin’ a large corn, and his derisive remark

wuz changed to a low groan, and Cousin John Richard went on onhendered.

“I went South with good motives, God knows. I knew this newly

enfranchised race was sorely in want of knowledge, Christian knowledge

most of all.

“I thought, as so many others do, that Christianity and education would

solve this problem. I never stopped to think that the white race, of

whose cruelty the negroes complained, had enjoyed the benefits of

Christianity for hundreds of years, and those whose minds were enriched

by choicest culture had hearts encased in bitterest prejudices, and it

was from the efforts of their avarice and selfishness that I was trying

to rescue the freedmen. We accomplished much, but I expected, as so many

others have, choicer Christian fruits to spring from this barren soil,

that has grown in the rich garden cultivated for centuries.

“Education has done and will do much—Christianity more; but neither can

sound a soundless deep, nor turn black night into day.

“But I never thought of this. I worked hard and meant well, Heaven

knows. I thought at first I could do marvellous things; later, when many

failures had made me more humble, I thought if I could help only one

soul my labor would not be in vain. For who knows,” sez John Richard

dreamily, “who knows the tremendous train of influences one sets in

motion when he is under God enabled to turn one life about from the path

of destruction towards the good and the right?

“Who knows but he is helping to kindle a light that shall yet lighten

the pathway of a Toussaint L’Ouverture or a Fred Douglass on to victory,

and a world be helped by the means?

“And if only one soul is helped, does not the Lord of the harvest say,

‘He that turns one man from the error of his ways has saved a soul from

death’?”

Cousin John Richard’s eye looked now as if he wuz a gazin’ deep into the

past—the past of eager and earnest endeavor, and way beyend it into the

past that held a happy home, and the light from that forsaken fireside

seemed to be a shinin’ up into his face, divinely sad, bitter-sweet, as

he went on:

“I loved my wife and children as well as another man, but I left them

and my happy, happy home to go where duty called.

“My wife could not endure that hot climate, and she lay dying when I was

so far South that I could not get to her till she had got so far down in

the Valley that she could not hear my voice when I spoke to her.”

Ah! the waves of memory wuz a dashin’ hard aginst Cousin John Richard

then, as we could see. It splashed some of the spray up into his bright

eyes.

But he kept on: “I was rich enough then to put my children to school,

which I did, and then returned to my labors.

“I loved my work—I felt for it that enthusiasm and devotion that nerves

the heart to endure any trials—and I don’t speak of the persecutions I

underwent in that work as being harder than what many others endured.

“You know what they passed through who preached the higher truth in

Jerusalem. The Book says, ‘They were persecuted, afflicted, tormented,

had cruel buffetings and scourgings, were burned, were tortured, not

accepting deliverance.’

“In the early days after the war, in some parts of the South there were

hardly any indignities that could be inflicted upon us that we were not

called upon to endure. We had our poor houses burned down over our

heads, our Bible and spelling-books thrown into the flames; we have had

rifles pointed at our breasts, and were ordered to leave on peril of

death.

“And many, many more than you Northerners have any idea of met their

death in the dark cypress forests and in the dreary, sandy by-ways of

the Southern States.

“They died, ‘not accepting deliverance’ by cowardly flight. How many of

them thus laid down their lives for conscience’ sake will never be known

till that hour when _He_ comes to make up His jewels.

“I bear the marks upon me to-day, and shall carry them to my grave, of

the tortures inflicted upon me to make me give up my work of trying to

help the weak and seek and save them that were lost.”

“The dumb fools!” hollered out Josiah. “What did they act so like idiots

for—and villains? The Southerners always did act like the Old Harry

anyway.”

[Illustration:

“THE DUMB FOOLS!”

]

My dear companion is fervid and impassioned in his feelin’s and easily

wrought on, and he felt what he said. John Richard wuz a relation on his

own side, and he could not calmly brook the idee of his sufferin’s.

But Cousin John didn’t look mad, nor excited, nor anything. He had a

sort of a patient look onto his face, and as if he had tried to reason

things out for some time.

“Such a state of affairs was inevitable,” sez he.

“Then you don’t blame the cussed fools, do you?” yelled out Josiah,

fearfully wrought up and agitated.

Oh, what a word to use, and to a minister too—“cussed”! I felt as if I

should sink right down into the suller—I wuz about over the potato

ben—and I didn’t much care if I did sink, I felt so worked up.

But Cousin John Richard didn’t seem to mind it at all. He had got up

into a higher region than my soul wuz a sailin’ round in—he had got up

so high that little buzzin’, stingin’ insects that worried me didn’t

touch him; he had got up into a calm, pure atmosphere where they

couldn’t fly round.

He went on calm as a full moon on a clear night, and sez he:

“It is difficult to put the blame for this state of affairs on any one

class, the evil is so far spread. The evil root was planted centuries

ago, and we are partaking of its poison fruit to-day.

“In looking on such a gigantic wrong we must look on it on other sides

than the one whose jagged edges have struck and bruised us—we must look

on it on every side in order to be just.

“After years and years of haughty supremacy, ambition and pride growing

rankly, as they must in such a soil, fostered, it would seem, by

Northern indolence and indifference, the South was conquered by armed

force—brought down to the humiliation of defeat by a successful, if

generous foe.

“And then, what was far harder for them to endure, a race of people that

they had looked upon much as you look upon your herd of cattle was

suddenly raised from a condition of servitude to one of legal equality,

and in many cases of supremacy.

“It was hard for this hot-blooded, misguided, warm-hearted Southern

people to lose at once all their brilliant dreams of an independent,

aristocratic Confederacy—it was hard for them to lose home, and country,

and wealth, and ambition at one blow.

“It was hard for their proud, ambitious leader to have his beautiful old

country home, full of aristocratic associations and sweet memories,

turned into the national graveyard.

“And this one tragedy that changed this sweet home into a mausoleum is

not a bad illustration of what the Southern people endured.

“No matter what brought this thing about—no matter where the blame

rested—it was _hard_ for them to stand by the graves of their loved

ones, who fell fighting for the lost cause—to stand amongst the ruins of

their dismantled homes, and know that their proud, ambitious dreams were

all ended.

“But this they could endure—it was the fortune of war, and they had to

submit. But to this other indignity, as they called it, they would _not_

submit.

“Through centuries of hereditary influences and teachings this belief

was ingrained, born in them, bone of their bone, flesh of their flesh,

soul of their soul, implanted first by nature, then hardened and made

invulnerable by centuries of habits, beliefs, and influences—this

instinctive, hereditary contempt and aversion for the black race only as

servants.

“And they _would not_ endure to have them made their equals.

“Now, no preaching, be it with the tongue of men or angels, could

vanquish this ingrained, inexorable foe, this silent, overmastering

force that rose up on every side to set at naught our preaching.

[Illustration:

A BLACK.

]

“After twenty-five years of Christian effort it remains the same, and at

the end of a century of Gospel work it will still be there just the

same.

“And those who do not take into consideration this overwhelming power of

antagonism between the races when they are considering the Southern

question are fools.

“The whites _will_ not look upon the negroes as their equals, and you

cannot make them—”

“Wall, they be!” hollered out Josiah. “The Proclamation made ’em free

and equal, jest as we wuz made in the War of 1812.”

“But oh, what a difference!” sez Cousin John Richard sadly.

“The American colonies were the peers of the mother country. It was only

a quarrel between children and mother. The same blood ran in their

veins, they had the same traits, the same minds, the same looks, they

were truly equal.

“But in this case it was an entirely different race, necessarily

inferior by their long years of degradation, brought up at one bound

from the depths of ignorance and servitude to take at once the full

rights awarded to intellect and character.

“It was a great blunder; it was a sad thing for the white race and for

the black race!”

Josiah wuz jest a openin’ his mouth to speak in reply to Cousin John

Richard’s last words, when all of a sudden we heard a knock at the door,

and I went and opened it, and there stood Miss Eben Garlock, and I asked

her to come in, and sot her a chair.

I never over and above liked Miss Eben Garlock, though she is a likely

woman enough so fur as I know.

But she is one of the kind of wimmen who orniment the outside of their

heads more than the inside, and so on with their hearts and souls, etc.

She is a great case for artificial flowers, and ribbin loops, and

fringes. And the flowers that wuz a blowin’ out on her bunnet that day

_would_ have gone a good ways towards fillin’ a half-bushel basket. And

the loops that wuz a hangin’ all round her boddist waist would have

straightened out into half a mile of ribbin, I do believe.

The ribbin wuz kinder rusty, and she had pinned on a bunch of faded red

poppies on to the left side of her boddist waist, pretty nigh, I should

judge, over her heart.

Which goes to prove what I said about her trimmin’ off the outside of

her heart and soul.

Her clothes are always of pretty cheap material, but showy, and made

after sort o’ foamin’ patterns, with streamers, and her favorite loops

and such. And they always have a look as if they wuz in danger of

fallin’ off of her. She uses pins a good deal, and they drop out

considerable and leave gaps.

Wall, I always use her well; so, as I say, I sot her a chair and

introduced her to Cousin John Richard, and he bowed polite to her, and

then leaned back in his chair and seemed restin’. Good land! I should

thought he’d wanted to.

Miss Garlock seemed real agitated and excited, and I remembered hearin’

that forenoon that they had lost a relation considerable distant to ’em.

He lived some fifteen or sixteen miles away.

He and Eben Garlock’s folks had never agreed; in fact, they had hated

each other the worst kind. But now Miss Garlock, bein’ made as she wuz,

wuz all nerved up to make a good appearance to the funeral and show off.

She had come to borry my mournin’ suit that I had used to mourn for

Josiah’s mother in; and I am that careful of my clothes that they wuz as

good as new, though I had mourned in ’em for a year. Mournin’ for some

folks hain’t half so hard on clothes as mournin’ for others; tears spots

black crape awful, and sithes are dretful hard on whale-bones; my

clothes wuz good, good as new.

But I am a eppisodin’, and to resoom.

Miss Garlock wanted to borry my hull suit down to shoes and stockin’s

for Eben’s mother, who lived with her. She herself wuz a goin’ to borry

Miss Slimpsey’s dress—she that wuz Betsey Bobbets—it wuz trimmed more

and more foamin’ lookin’. But she wanted my black fan for herself, and

my mournin’ handkerchief pin, it bein’ a very showy one. Ury had gin it

to me, and I never had mourned in it but once, and then not over two

hours, at a church social, for I felt it wuz too dressy for me. But Miss

Garlock had seen it on that occasion and admired it.

And then, after I had told her she could have all these things in

welcome, she kinder took me out to one side and asked me “if I had jest

as lives lend her a Bible for a few days. She thought like as not the

minister would call to talk with Eben’s mother, and she felt that she

should be mortified if he should call for a Bible, for they had all run

out of Bibles,” she said.

“The last one they had by ’em had jest been chawed up by a pup Eben wuz

a raisin’; she had ketched him a worryin’ it out under the back stoop.

She said he had chawed it all up but a part o’ the Old Testament, and he

wuz a worryin’ and gnawin’ Maleky when she got it away from him.”

Wall, I told her she could have the Bible, and she asked me to have the

things done up by the time they got back from Miss Slimpsey’s, and I

told her I would, and I did.

Wall, if you’d believe it, I had hardly got them things done up in a

bundle and laid ’em on the table ready for Miss Garlock, when that

blessed man, John Richard, commenced agin right where he left off, and

sez he, a repeatin’ his last words as calmly as if there had been no

Garlock eppisode.

“It was a great blunder, a sad thing for the white race and the black

race.”

“Wall, what would you have done?” sez Josiah.

“I don’t know,” sez Cousin John sadly—“I don’t know; perhaps mistakes

were inevitable. The question was so great and momentous, and the danger

and the difficulties seemed so impenetrable on every side.”

“Lincoln did the best he could,” sez Josiah sturdily; “and I know it.”

“And so do I know it,” sez Cousin John. “That wise, great heart could

not make any other mistake only a mistake of judgment, and he was sorely

tried to know what was best to do. The burden weighed down upon him so,

I fancy he was glad to lay it down in any way.

“The times were so dark that any measure adopted for safety was only

groping towards the light, only catching at the first rope of safety

that seemed to lower itself through the heavy clouds of war.

“The heavy eyes and true hearts watching through those black hours will

never be forgotten by this republic.

“And now, in looking back and criticising the errors of that time, it is

like the talk of those who are watching a storm at sea, when, in order

to save the ship, wrong ropes may be seized, and life-boats cast out

into the stormy waves may be swept down and lost. But if the ship is

saved, let the survivors of the crew forever bless and praise the brave

hands and hearts that dared the storm and the peril.

“But when the sky is clearer you can see more plainly than when the

tempest is whirling about you and death and ruin are riding on the gale.

“You can see plainer and you can see farther.

“Now, it was a great and charitable idea, looking at it from one side,

to let those who had tried their best to ruin the Union at once take an

equal place with those who had perilled life and property to save it—to

give them _at once_ the same rights in making the laws they had set at

defiance.

“It was a generous and charitable idea, looking on it from one side, but

from another side it looked risky, very risky, and it looked dangerous

to the further peace and perpetuity of that Union.

“A little delay might not have done any harm—a little delay in giving

them the full rights of citizenship.

“And it might, Heaven knows, have been as well if the slaves had had a

gradual bringing up of mind and character to meet the needs of legal

responsibility, if they had not been _at once_ invested with all the

rights and responsibilities which well-trained Christian scholars find

it so difficult to assume, if they had not been required to solve by the

ballot deep questions of statesmanship, the names of which they could

not spell out in the newspaper.

“Could such ignorance make them otherwise than a dangerous element in

politics, dangerous to themselves and dangerous to the welfare of the

Union?

“Tossed back and forth as they were between two conflicting parties, in

their helplessness and ignorance becoming the prey of the strongest

faction, compelled, at the point of the sword and the muzzle of the

revolver, to vote as the white man made them—the law of Might victorious

over the Right—it was a terrible thing for the victim, and a still worse

one for the victor.

“What could happen in such a state of affairs only trouble and misery,

evasions and perversions of the law, uprisings of the oppressed, secret

bands of armed men intent on deeds of violence, whose only motives were

to set at naught the law, to fight secretly against the power they had

been openly forced to yield to.

“What could happen save warfare, bloodshed, burning discontent, and

secret nursing of wrongs amongst the blacks; hatred towards the Union

amongst the whites, towards the successful foe who had humiliated them

so beyond endurance by this last blow of forcing them into a position of

equality towards their former slaves, and rousing up in them a more

bitter animosity towards the poor blacks who had been the innocent cause

of their humiliation.”

“Wall, what could have been done?” sez Josiah.

“It is hard to tell,” sez John Richard. “It is a hard problem to solve;

and perhaps,” sez Cousin John, lookin’ some distance off—“perhaps it was

God’s own way of dealing with this people.

“You know, after the children of Israel had broken the chains of their

bondage and passed through the Red Sea, they were encamped in the

wilderness for forty years before they reached the Land of Promise.

“Maybe it is God’s way of dealing with this people, to make them willing

to press forward through the wilderness of their almost unendurable

trials and go forward into their own country, from whence their fathers

were stolen by these pale faces, and there, in that free, fresh land to

found a new republic of their own.

“And with all the education and civilization they have gathered during

these long, miserable years of slavery, helped by all they have learned,

taught by their losses as well as their gains, found a new republic that

shall yet take its place as one of the great nations of the world—yes,

perhaps lead the nations, and reveal God’s glory in higher, grander

forms than colder-blooded races have ever dreamed of. For it has seemed

as if this people have been peculiarly under His protection and care.

“All through this long, bloody War of the Rebellion, when it would seem

as if the black race must be crushed between either the upper or lower

millstone of raging sectional warfare, they simply, as if bidden by a

higher power than was seen marching with the armies, ‘stood still and

saw the salvation of the Lord.’”

“Where would you have ’em set up for themselves?” sez Josiah, a lookin’

some sleepy, but holdin’, as it were, his eyes open with a effort.

“Would you have ’em go to Mexico, or Brazil, or where?”

“To Africa,” sez Cousin John Richard, “or that is what is in my own

mind. I don’t know that it would be better than another place, but I

think so.”

“But, good land!” sez Josiah, lookin’ more wakeful, “think of the cost.

Why, it would run the Government in debt to that extent that it never

would get over it.” He looked skairt at the idee. But Cousin John

didn’t; he wuz calm and serene as he went on:

“Thousands and thousands would be able and willing to go on their own

account. But if this nation took them all back at its own expense, is it

not a lawful debt? Who brought them here in the first place? They did

not come of their own accord; no, they were stolen, hunted like beasts

of prey amongst their own fields and forests, felled like wild animals,

and dragged, bleeding from their wounds, into slave ships to be packed

into a living cargo of sweltering agony, and brought off from friends

and home and native land for our selfishness’ sake, to add to our

wealth.

“It seems to me we owe them a debt that we should pay for our own

conscience’ sake as a nation.”

“But the Government couldn’t afford it; it would cost too much.” Josiah

is very close.

[Illustration:

“THE OLD AND FEEBLE ONES.”

]

“As I said,” sez Cousin John Richard, “thousands of the more intelligent

ones who have property of their own would go at their own expense for

the sake of founding free, peaceful homes, where their children could

have the advantages of independence, freed from the baleful effects of

class antagonism and race prejudices.

“Many of the old and feeble ones, and those who were prosperous and well

off, would not go at all. And of those who remained, if the Government

should transport them and support them there for a year it would not

cost a twentieth part so much as to carry on a civil war.

“And I tell you war will come, Josiah Allen, if something is not done to

avert the storm.”

And agin John Richard’s eyes took on that fur-off look, as if he wuz

lookin’ at things dretful some distance off.

“Amongst the lower classes you can hear muttered curses and half-veiled

threats, and you feel their passion and their burning hatred towards the

race that gave them the Indian gift of freedom—gave it, and then

snatched it out of their hands, and instead of liberty gave them

injustice and worse oppression.

“And the storm is coming up. Evil spirits are in the atmosphere. Over

the better feelings of the white race, dominating them, are the black

shapes of contempt and repulsion towards the race once their servants,

made their equals by a wordy fiction of their enemies, but still under

their feet.

“And in their haughty breasts, as of old, only stronger, is the

determination to have their own way, to rule this ‘ignorant rabble,’ to

circumvent the cowardly will of their Northern foe, who had brought this

thing to pass, to still rule them in one way if not in another—rule or

ruin.

“And the storm is coming up the heavens. The lightning is being stored,

and the tempest of hail, the burning lightning, and deafening thunder

peals are awaiting this day of wrath when the storm shall burst.

“And you sit on in your ease and will not believe it.”

His eyes wuz bent on my pardner’s form, who wuz leanin’ back in a almost

luxurious attitude in his soft copper-plate-covered rockin’ chair, but I

see he didn’t mean him in particeler; no, his eyes had in ’em a wide,

deep look that took in the hull country, North and South, and he went on

in almost eloquent axents:

“The Northern soldier who twenty-five years ago hung up his old rifle

and powder-horn with a sigh of content that the war against oppression

and slavery had been won still sits under them in content and

self-admiration of his prowess, and heeds not at all the signs in the

heavens.

“And the wise men in the National Capital sit peacefully in their high

places and read over complacently the words they wrote down a quarter of

a century ago:

“‘All slaves are free.’

“And the bandage that Justice wears, having slipped too far down over

their wise eyes, they have not seen the handcuffs and chains that have

weighed down the still enslaved.

“And they read these words:

“‘We proclaim peace in all your borders.’

“And lost in triumphant thoughts of what they had done, they did not

heed this truth, that instead of peace hovering down upon the borders of

the fair Southern land, they had blindly and ignorantly, no doubt, let

loose the bitter, corroding, wearing curse of animosity and ignorant

misrule.

“Yes, those wise men had launched these turbulent spirits instead of

peace on the heads of the free and enlightened, if bigoted white people

of the South, and upon the black race.

“And never stopped to think, so it would seem, whether three millions

strong of an ignorant, superstitious, long-degraded people, the majority

of whom could not read nor write, and were ignorant of the first

principles of truth and justice, could suddenly be lifted up to become

the peers, and in many cases the superiors, of a cultured and refined

people who had had long ages of culture and education behind them, and,

above all, class prejudices.

“They never paused to ask themselves whether it was in reality just to

the white race, or whether this superior class would quietly submit to

the legal equality and rule of the inferior.

“The difficulty of this problem did not seem to strike them, whether by

any miracle the white race would at once forget its pride and its

prejudices.

“Whether by a legal enactment a peacock could be made to change its

plumage for the sober habit of a dove, or an eagle develop the humility

of a snail.

“The wise men expected to do more than this, and failed.

“And they never seemed to ponder this side of the question: Whether it

was not cruelty to the weaker class to thus raise up to a greater

strength the prejudice and animosity of the dominant race.

“And whether this premature responsibility they had caused them to

assume was not as cruel as to put knives and rifles into the hands of

babies, and send them out to fight a battle with giants—fight or die.

[Illustration:

“I SOT DEMUTE.”

]

“And so these wise men, having done their best, it would seem, to rouse

the blind passions and intensify the ignorant prejudice and class hatred

of the blacks, sit at their ease.

“And so the farce has been played out before a pitying heaven, and has

been for a quarter of a century, growing more pitiful to look at year by

year.

“The farce of slave and tyrant masquerading in the robes of liberty and

equality, and the poor Northern zealot playing well his part with a

fool’s cap and bells. The weak crushed and trodden under foot, the

strong shot down by secret violence—murder, rapine, and misrule taking

the part of law, and both races swept along to their ruin like a vision

of the night.”

Why, John Richard’s talk wuz such, he looked on things so different from

what I ever had, he put such new and strange idees into my head that I

can truly say that he skairt me most to death. I sot demute; I didn’t

even think to look to see how my pardner wuz affected by the startlin’

views he wuz promulgatin’. I dropped stitches, I seamed where I hadn’t

ought to seam; I wuz extremely nerved up and agitated, and he went on a

talkin’ more stranger and startlinger than ever, if possible.

“And still these wise men sit and hardly lift their wise eyes. _But when

the storm bursts_,” sez Cousin John Richard, in a louder voice than he

had used, and more threatenin’ like and prophetic—“when the storm

bursts, methinks these wise men will look up, will get up if there is

enough left of them to stand after the shock and the violence of the

tempest has torn and dashed over them. For the clouds _will_ fill with

vengeance, the storm _will_ burst if something is not done soon to avert

the fury of its course.

“Now, this nation can solve this great question peacefully if it will.”

And I sez in agitated axents:

“How?”

I wuz fearful wrought up. I never had mistrusted there wuz such a state

of things anywhere; it come all onbeknown onto me, and sort o’ paralyzed

my faculties. I had forgot by this time, if you’ll believe it, whether I

wuz a knittin’ or a tattin’. Why, I shouldn’t have been surprised if

somebody had spoke up and said I wuz a shearin’ a sheep or pickin’ a

goose. I shouldn’t have sensed it, as I know of, I wuz so dumbfoundered

and lost and by the side of myself.

Sez I, “How?”

And sez he, “Let the colored race go into a home and a country of their

own. Let them leave the people and the influences that paralyze and

hinder their best efforts. Let them leave a race that they burden and

hamper and oppress, for injustice reacts worse upon the victor than upon

the victim. The two races cannot live together harmoniously; they have

tried the experiment for hundreds of years, and failed.”

I murmured almost mechanically:

“Won’t religion and education make ’em harmoniouser?”

But before John Richard could answer my question, Eben Garlock come in

for the mournin’ bundle, and I gin it to him.

He said he couldn’t set down, but still he didn’t seem ready to go.

Everybody has such visitors that don’t want to go and don’t want to

stay, and you have to use head work to get ’em started either way.

Eben is different from his wife; he is more sincere and open-hearted,

and hain’t so affected. He speaks out more than she duz, and finally he

told us what wuz on his mind.

I see he had on a good new black overcoat, and the case wuz he wanted to

swop with Josiah for the day of the funeral, and take his old London

brown overcoat.

And I sez, “For the land’s sake! Why?”

“Wall,” sez he, a lookin’ real candid and sincere as he said it, “the

fact is, you know the corpse and I never agreed with each other, and

everybody knows it; and I don’t want to act as if I wuz a mournin’ too

much. I hate deceit,” sez he.

“Wall,” sez I, “if that is how you feel you can take the coat in

welcome.”

And Josiah sez, “Yes, of course you can have it.”

And Eben took off his glossy new black overcoat and put on Josiah’s old

shabby brown one and sot off. And I don’t know how he and his wife

settled it, and I don’t much care.

Wall, if you’ll believe it, Eben hadn’t much more’n got into his buggy

at the gate when Cousin John Richard began agin, took up his remarks

jest where he had laid ’em down. I don’t spoze he sensed Eben’s comin’

in hardly any.

I spoze it wuz some as if a fly should light on the nose of a Fourth of

July oritor, it would be brushed off without noticin’ it, and the

oration would go right on.

Sez John Richard, “All the religion and education in the world cannot

make the two races unite harmoniously and become one people, with

kindred tastes and united hearts and interests.”

Sez I agin, speakin’ mechanically, “You think the foot is too big for

the shoe?”

“Yes, exactly,” sez he. “The shoe is a good sound one, but the foot is

too big; it won’t go into it.”

“But,” sez I, “as Josiah remarked to you, wouldn’t it cost awfully?”

“Will it cost any less ten years from now? The colored population of the

South increases at the rate of five hundred every twenty-four hours.

“By the most careful estimates it has been found that in less than

twenty years the black race will out-number the whites to the number of

a million. What will be done then? Will the white man leave this country

to make room for the negro? It is plain that there will not be room for

both.”

And I murmured almost entirely onbeknown to myself, “No, I don’t spoze

he would.”

“No, indeed,” sez Cousin John Richard. “The Anglo-Saxon will not leave

this country, his inheritance, for the sake of peace or to make room for

another race; then what will be done? I hear the voice of the Lord,” sez

John Richard solemnly, “I hear His voice saying, ‘Let my people go.’”

The silence seemed solemn; it seemed some like the pauses that come in a

protracted meetin’ between two powerful speakers. I felt queer.

But I did speak up almost entirely onbeknown to myself, and sez I,

“Could they take care of themselves in a colony of their own? Do they

know enough?”

Sez John Richard, “A race that has accumulated property to the extent of

six millions of dollars in one Southern State since the war, under all

the well-nigh unendurable drawbacks and persecutions that have beset it,

will be able, I believe, to at least do as much, when these hampering

and oppressive influences are withdrawn and the colored man has a clear

field, in an atmosphere of strength and courage and encouragement—where

in this air of liberty he can enjoy the rewards of his labor and behold

the upbuilding of his race.

“And what a band of missionaries and teachers will go out from this new

republic, upon every side of them, in darkest Africa, to preach the

peaceful doctrine of the cross!

“In these same dark forests, where their ancestors were hewn down and

shot down like so many wild beasts, and dragged, maimed and bleeding, to

become burden bearers and chained slaves to an alien race—

“Under the same dim shadows of these lofty trees will these men stand

and reveal to the ignorant tribes the knowledge they learned in the

torturing school of slavery.

“The dark baptism wherewith they were baptized will set them apart and

fit them for this great work. They will speak with the fellowship of

suffering which touches hearts and enkindles holy flames.

“Their teachings will have the supreme consecration of agony and

martyrdom. They will speak with the pathos of grief, the earnestness and

knowledge born through suffering and ‘the constant anguish of patience.’

“It is such agencies as these that God has always blessed to the

upbuilding of His kingdom. And will not the dwarfed natures about them

gradually be transformed by the teachings of these apostles into a

civilized, God-fearing people?

[Illustration:

“THE DARK FACES OF THESE APOSTLES.”

]

“Methinks the dark faces of these apostles will shine with the glowing

image of God’s love and providence—the providence that watched over them

and kept them in a strange land, and then brought them back in safety,

fitted to tell the story of God’s love and power, and His mercy that had

redeemed them and made them free.

“And when the lowest and most unknowing one shall ask, ‘Who are these?’

methinks the answer will be as it was to St. John: ‘These are they who

come out of great tribulations.’”

I wuz demute, and didn’t say nuthin’, and John Richard sez, in a deep

axent and a earnest one, “But will this Government be warned by past

judgments and past experience and be wise in time?

“I don’t know,” sez he, a answerin’ himself; for truly I didn’t know

what to say nor how to say it.

“You spoke just now of the expense. It will cost less now to avert an

evil than it will cost for its overthrow, when time, and national

follies, and men’s bad passions, and inevitable causes have matured it,

and the red cloud has burst in its livid fury over a doomed land. But

time will tell.

“But while delays go on, the mills of the gods are grinding on; time nor

tide cannot stop them. And if this nation sits down at its ease for a

decade longer, woe to this republic!”

I wuz so thrilled, and skairt, and enthused by Cousin John Richard’s

eloquence and strange and fiery words and flowery language that when I

sort o’ come to myself I looked up, a expectin’ to see Josiah bathed in

tears, for he weeps easy.

But even as I looked, I heard a low, peaceful snore. And I see that

Josiah Allen had so fur forgot good manners and what wuz due to high

principles and horspitality as to set there fast asleep. Yes, sleepin’

as sweet as a babe in its mother’s arms.

I looked mortified, I know.

But Cousin John Richard took it all historically—nuthin’ personal could

touch him, so it seemed.

And sez he to me, “There is a fair instance of what I have told you,

cousin—a plain illustration of the indifference and unbelief of the

North as to the state of affairs in the Southern States.”

“Wall,” sez I, “Josiah has been broke of his rest some durin’ the year

with newraligy, and you must overlook it in him.”

And, wantin’ to change the subject, I asked him if he wouldn’t like a

glass of new milk before retirin’ and goin’ to bed.

And he said he would; and I brung it in to him with a little plate of

crackers on a tray. And as I come by Josiah Allen I made calculation

ahead to hit him axidentally on his bald head with my elbow.

And he started up, with his face nearly covered with smiles and

mortification, and sez he:

“That last remark of yours, Cousin John Richard, wuz very convincin’ and

eloquent.”

The remark wuz, “I like new milk very much.”

But I wouldn’t throw that milk into his face. And Cousin John received

the milk and the remark with composure.

And I kep’ them two men down on to relations, and sheep, and such like

subjects till I got ’em off to bed.

I give John Richard a good dose of spignut syrup, for he complained of a

sore throat, and he wuz hoarse as a frog. Good land! I should have

thought he would be, talkin’ as much as he had, and eloquent too.

Eloquence is dretful tuckerin’; I know well its effects on the system,

though mebby I hadn’t ort to be the one to say it.

Wall, in the mornin’ Cousin John Richard wuz weak as a cat. All tired

out. He couldn’t hardly get round. And I made him lay down on the lounge

in the settin’ room, and I give him spignut syrup once a hour most all

day, and kep’ him warm, and lumps of maple sugar for his cough.

And by night he seemed like a new man—that spignut syrup is wonderful;

few people know the properties of it.

Wall, Josiah and I both took such a likin’ to that good onselfish

eloquent creeter that we prevailed on him to stay a week with us right

along.

And we took him to see the children, and Josiah took him up to Uncle

Thomas’es, and Cousin Sophronia’s on his own side, and we done well by

him.

And I fixed up his clothes with Philury’s help—they wuz good ones, but

they needed a woman. But we mended ’em and rubbed ’em up with ammonia

where it wuz needed, and they wuz in good condition when he went back to

his work.

Good land! wild oxen, nor camels, nor nuthin’ couldn’t have kep’ him

from that “field” of hisen.

But when it come the mornin’ for him to leave, he hated to go—hated to

like a dog.

And we hated to have him go, we liked him the best that ever wuz. And we

tried to make him promise to come to see us agin. But he seemed to feel

dubersome about it; he said he would have to go where his work called

him.

His bizness now up North wuz to see about some money that had been

subscribed for a freedmen’s school and meetin’ house. But he promised to

write to us now and then, and he spoke with deep feelin’ about the

“sweet rest he had had there,” and how he never should forget it; he

talked real eloquent about it, and flowery, but he meant every word, we

could see he did.

It happened curius about the chapter Josiah read that mornin’—he most

always reads the first one he opens to. And it wuz the one where Paul

tells about his hard work and trials, and how the Lord had brought him

out of ’em all.

How he wuz beaten with rods, and stuned, and wuz in perils of waters,

and perils by his own countrymen, and perils by the heathen, and in the

wilderness, and amongst false brethren, in weariness, and painfulness,

and hunger and thirst, and cold and nakedness.

And how he gloried in his weakness and infirmities, if so God’s strength

should be made perfect and His will be accomplished.

I declare for it, I couldn’t help thinkin’ of Cousin John Richard,

though mebby it hain’t right to compare one of our relations to Paul,

and then agin I didn’t spoze Paul would care. I knew they both on ’em

wuz good, faithful, earnest creeters anyway.

Then Cousin John Richard prayed a prayer that almost caught us up to the

gates of Paradise, it wuz so full of heavenly love, and tenderness, and

affection for us, and devotion to his work, and everything good, and

half saintly.

And then most imegiatly he went away on the mornin’ stage.

And at the very last, when most every other man would be a thinkin’ of

umberells or shawl straps, he took our hands in hisen and sez:

“Stand fast in the faith! be strong!” And then he bid us “good-bye, and

God bless us!” and wuz gone.

Good, faithful, hard-workin’ creeter. The views he had promulgated to us

wuz new and startlin’, and Josiah and he couldn’t agree on ’em; but

where is there two folks who think alike on every subject?

But whether they wuz true or false, I knew that John Richard believed

every word he had said about the state of affairs in the South.

[Illustration:

“WITH PHILURY’S HELP.”

]

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Samantha Among the Colored Folks: "My Ideas on the Race Problem" · 第 1 / 20 章