CHAPTER XVI.
UNDER THE HAMMER.
As Colonel Seymour was passing a group of negroes in the court-yard thisirritating remark from one of them arrested his attention. "Dat darsecesh's home is agwine to be sold at auction ter day under a margige,und de boss is ergwine ter buy hit;" and very soon thereafter ahalf-grown negro boy ringing a huge bell, and bearing aloft a placard asimperiously as a Roman lictor bore the axe and fasces, halted beforehim, and displayed offensively the following advertisement. "By virtueof a certain deed of mortgage executed by John W. Seymour and wife Aliceto James W. Bowden, and duly recorded in the proper office of the ----county, and value duly assigned to me, I shall sell for cash onSaturday, the 6th day of November, 186-- the lands and premisesdescribed in said mortgage deed, and known and designated as Ingleside,containing twenty-five hundred acres," Abram Laflin, assignee. Thus ranthe publication that may possibly furnish a key to the mystic meaning ofthe three blood-red stars under the written order. "Sixty days in whichto prove your loyalty." To-day, and the patrimonial estate of Inglesidewith all but its cherished memories, will pass by right of purchase intothe hands of the carpet baggers and negroes; to-day, and the axe of thebarbarian will be laid at the roots of the ancestral oaks; to-day, andthe grained corridors will echo to ribaldry and wassail; to-day, and thewar scathed veteran and his beautiful daughter, like the pariahs ofHindoostan, shelterless vagrants, will beg their bread and home. "If anuninterpretable destiny; if an inscrutable providence so orders anddecrees, that I shall surrender this home, yet as token of the love Ibear this wretched country, I will abide by her; I will cherish her asmy wife, my mother, my child; I will defend her with my sword, myspeech, my life, and I will be to my oppressed countrymen, their friend,their champion and their brother. I abhor these natural sons of Belialwho are whetting the knife that will drink their blood;" so exclaimedthe old soldier without a blemish upon his name. So thought thefire-tried christian who was appealing to the ultimate tribunal forright; so thought the man who was harrassed by every resource ofvengeance, as he turned his rigid face from the jeering crowd, theassassins of his peace.
The old man with fading memory tried in vain to recollect thetransactions he had had with James W. Bowden, to whom he once owedtwenty-five thousand dollars, and to whom he had conveyed in trusts thevaluable estate of Ingleside. He asked appealingly of his daughter "Haveyou no knowledge of these affairs that will aid me in this extremity."
"My dear father," she answered reflectively, "I am sure the debt hasbeen paid. Indeed I heard you say that you paid it in gold."
"But where are my papers?" he asked; "Scattered to the winds by theschool mistress and her negro pupils. Shall I ever be able to exhibitany proof of its payment? Can you not assist me? Perhaps we may findsomewhere the cancelled note."
Bowden was dead and a profligate son alone survived.
There were a hundred negroes who thronged the negro auctioneer.
"What is I bid fur dis plantashun?" "Fifteen thousand dollars."
"Hold!" interrupted Colonel Seymour now advancing. "I forbid the sale ofthis land or any part of it, the debt is paid."
"Ha, Ha. Ha," jeered the negroes, "dat dar secesh's mind is a puryfiedwanderin," shouted a chorus of voices. "Cry de bid Mr. auctioneer,"shouted the negro Wiggins. "Ef dat ar white man mak eny mo sturbance,we's agwine ter slap him in de jail forthwid. I warrantees de title ferde boss." "Twenty thousand----twenty-five thousand----once, twice,free, times dun und gone to Mr. Laflin."
The whole affair seemed an illusion, an unnatural evaporation of landand houses--the Ingleside plantation dissipated into thin vapor like thegenii of the sealed casket in the Arabian Nights.
"Great God," exclaimed the broken hearted old man, "and Laflin thewretch! Laflin the monster standing there in dumb show, and nodding hishead in savage and pantomimic gravity when the hammer fell."
The old Colonel and his daughter rode back to their home perhaps for thelast time. One of the blood-red stars had been blotted out of thetyrants' calendar. Two more like the painted dolphins in the circus atAntioch remained to be taken down, one by one. The search for themissing document was renewed when they reached home, but unavailingly.Alice however discovered in an old ash barrel in a neatly foldedpackage, two papers signed by Abram Laflin to her father; one a note forfive thousand dollars, the other a mortgage securing the payment of thenote. No trace however, of the twenty-five thousand dollar mortgage.Alice carried the Laflin note to her father whose mind for a momentappeared a complete blank; he then remembered the transactioncircumstantially.
"Yes, Yes," he exclaimed reminiscently; "the note was executed to me asa fee, when he was indicted and acquitted for murder in 1866. Now he maylet slip the dogs of war, and 'damned be he who first cries hold!Enough!'"
It was painful to observe that Mr. Seymour had become so injuriouslyaffected by the exciting events transpiring from day to day, that hismind upon matters of business was almost inert. Certainly his memory wasfast failing; a giving away of the mental poise; and in consequencethereof, poor Alice was picking up here and there great bits of trouble,with as much freedom as the washwoman gathers sticks for her fire."Tomorrow she exclaimed will be the Sabbath. Blessed day will it bringsurcease from sorrow, a moment's respite from the maelstrom of trouble?"she asked, "I can only hope. I feel sometimes like crying aloud, 'Whatshadows we are, and what shadows we pursue'!"
When the morning broke tranquilly upon the old home, the little birdswere caroling in the trees, and the poor girl felt that her care wornspirit should rest this holy Sabbath day. After the morning meal, herfather perturbed and dejected walked along the river's bank, and sheretired to the parlor where she sang and played. In the evening old Nedcame to express again his sense of gratitude to his young mistress andhis old master, and observed among other things, remorsefully, howfoolish he had been to take up with the vagaries of the negroes, whowere fomenting so much trouble. "And mars John," he continued, "I seedwhere I was agwine rong, und I knowed yu wud fetch me outen de miryclay. Times is er gitten so mistrustful dat I cum ter ax yu und yungmissis mouten me und Clarissa stay wid yu in de grate house? Whar we kinrun on urrans fo yu nite und day."
Old Ned like the hunted rabbit had been smoked out of his hollow.Reconstruction with its insipid pageants had come: It had emptied itscornucopia in the old commissariat; not a dust of flour, nor a fluiddram of molasses, nor a pound of bacon had it put into the jug or sackof the aged and the poor; and the stars and stripes waved as proudlyfrom its mast head as if there were no vacant stomachs, no hungryfreedmen in all the South. Colonel Seymour was inexpressibly glad to seethe change that had come over the spirit of the old slave. He had beenemployed in many situations and he was faithful in all. He had been hiscarriage driver; he had packed old missis trunks when she went to theseaside or the springs in the happy old days; and Ned remembered howcontented he was, when an imaginary line separated peace from discord,plenty from squalor. He had seen old missis put away in the ground, andwith him were feelings that would not be stifled that were now recastinghis nature, however sensual and hardened it had become by contact withvicious companions. When the clouds of war lowered angrily Ned's faithin old missis grew stronger and stronger, and like a watch dog always onduty, so Ned was always at his post; to obey every command, toanticipate every wish. It was Ned who held ajar the old plantation gate,that day the young cavalier rode into the deepening shadows on his wayto Manassas, and with hat in hand bade him good-bye with the entreaty,"Be shore und cum back nex Saddy to yo po mammy. I'll be rite heer toopen de gate." It was Ned who reverently placed the spray of the littleimmortelle upon the grave of Mars Harry when the procession had turnedtheir faces homeward. It was Ned who carried "old Missis" in his armsback to the carriage when she swooned at the grave, and now he had comeback like the prodigal confessing his sins.
"If Gord spares me ter outlive ole marser, I'm agwine ter put him erwaylak ole missis and yung mars Harry, und strow his grave wid hiasents undlillys ob de valley. I hain
t agwine ter put no mo pendence in de carpetbaggers, dey will gouge de eyeballs outen yo hed, und I'm agwine tertwist my eyes clean erround de tother side when I passes de olekommissery. 'Ole glory' is jess flirting up its skerts, und larfing whenpoor ole niggers is agwine erlong de rode, jess es scornful es erflop-eared mule when he pokes yu under de jaw wid his hind foot, widoutary warnin. I wishes dat de bosum of struction wud slam de olekommissery clean clar to de yurth, dat I does."
"You seem to be very thoroughly disgusted with the situation Ned?"observed the Colonel.
"I is mars John, deed I is. Ef a pusson fools yu won time, or maybe twotimes, er yu mout say free time, you mout try him agin, but ef he foolsyu all de time ole Marser, what is yu agwine to do den, mout as well beflinging de hook in de crick for Joshaway's munny, as agwine to dat olekommissery wid yo happysack speckin arry moufful ob wittles."
"Is that the experience of all the colored people?" the Colonelinquired.
"No sar, no sar," Ned replied with feeling. "Dem dat carries woters tode conwenshun, und drinks de bosses sperits dey gits a leetle now undden, but tother wuns sucks de fingers in misury all de time, specktin,un gittin disappinted."
"By the way tell me something about Ephraim, how is he getting on,"asked the Colonel.
"Why bress your soul mars John he is clean outen site; er totin greatbig yaller upper lips on his sholders, und er sword dat runs on a wheelon de groun, und fedders on his hat same as a pee-fowell. He is dun undgrowd outen my membrance. Dey got norated eroun dat he is agwine termarry a white gal in de town, und Joshaway und Hannah has dun and got erinwite to de weddin."
"And Aleck, what is he doing?" asked the Colonel.
"Ugh, Ugh," exclaimed Ned, "now yu obersizes my kalkilashuns, mars John.He's wusser den Efrum, er uprarin fine housen all ober dis plantashun."
"The savage?" muttered the enraged man. "All Laflin's doings I suppose.Sixty days within which to prove your loyalty," he muttered. "The blackflag of the buccaneers of reconstruction marked not with death's headsbut by red stars!" A score of carpenters were plying their vocation onthe plantation. A confusion of sounds, such as sawing and hammering,drowned the melody of the singing birds, and Aleck like the boldest ofpirates, was caracoling here and there giving orders; and fashionablydressed negro women strolled offensively and imperiously over thegrounds.
"Mars Jon," exclaimed Ned, "I dun and tole yu so; now yu sees fo yosef."
Before the deed of purchase was recorded, the devilish freedmen wereenforcing their claim to the plantation by visible, notorious andviolent occupation. The colonel and Alice were sitting in the verandahone beautiful starlit night; there was scarcely the rustle of a leaf andthe full-orbed moon was shining with a radiant splendour. Of coursethere was but one event to think about. Was it not a grief that lay likea dead bulk upon the heart, all the day and all the night; and peopledtheir dreams with negroes and ogres too?
"Thank God," exclaimed Alice "mother is out of it all. They were butheaping the fagots around the furnace when she so wearied went home toher eternal rest. Now the fires are all consuming."
"My daughter," said Colonel Seymour dejectedly after awhile, "I will goto my grave with the knowledge that the Bowden debt has been paid; andnot one cent do I owe upon it. It is possible I may err, but as God ismy judge, this great loss has come upon me, through the devilishmachinations of Laflin, in the employment of the school-mistress, tooccupy the office in which he knew my valuable papers were deposited. Aningeniously devised plot doubtlessly, but one distressingly successful."
"Mars Jon," interrupted Clarissa quite seriously, "Haint yu neber foundem papers yit, yu was er sarchin fur?"
"No indeed, and I do not believe I shall ever find them."
"Grate King! Ole marser I specks dem dere pizen niggers shoolickineround de offis dun und stroyed em outen puryfied cussedness."
"Quite likely," rejoined the Colonel.
"Lemme studdy er minit," said Clarissa. "Pears lak Ned gin me sum papersto stow erway in my ole blue chiss. Wud yu kno hit ef you wast to seehit mars Jon? Don't speck it is wurf nuffin do. Ned he gin hit to me wayback yander, I dismember how long ergo, und he tole me to put it in deblu chiss, twell he ax for hit. Don't speck hit is ergwine to do marsJon no good do, but hit haint ergwine to pizen noboddy ef hit don't doono good. I'm ergwine to fetch it rite now."
The old gentleman paid but little attention to the negro until he sawher returning with uplifted hand like a stalking spectre.
"Now mars Jon," she cried, out of breath, "yu read dat paper, und cidefo yoself."
As soon as the old man took the paper in his hand, he forgot his goutyjoints, and his white hairs; he forgot who he was or where he was anddanced a succession of Scottish reels with old Clarissa, as an unwillingpartner.
"Why father!" cried Alice in great fright, "Clarissa! Clarissa! What isthe matter with my dear father?"
"Oh! Oh! Oh! The mortgage and the note! The mortgage and the note!"wildly screamed her father. "Thank God! Thank God!"
Clarissa, rubbing her head with both hands where it had struck a pillarin the wild whirl of the dance, emotionally exclaimed, "Bress de Lord;mars Jon has yu dun und gon plum crazy? I neber seed sich shines fo inall my born days; jambye busted dis ole hed wide open ergin datpostess."
"Clarissa," excitedly exclaimed the Colonel, "you shall have forty acresand a mule too."
"Grate Jurusulum! Mars Jon, whot I want wid dat lan? Und I dun got wunmule, und de Lord knose he tarrifies de life outen me."
"Alice," remarked her father, still excited, "I know all about thematter now. Old Mr. Bowden was very ill when I paid the debt, but feeblyraised himself in bed and marked upon the face of the note, 'Paid infull.' Here it is," said the Colonel, "and he surrendered the note andmortgage in the presence of his worthless son, and promised that hewould cancel the record; but the poor fellow died. His son witnessed thesettlement. I had no doubt that this villainous son, knowing that hisfather had died before cancelling the mortgage, and believing that inthe terrible condition of the country I could not prove the payment ofthe debt, did unlawfully, maliciously and feloniously conspire, combineand confederate with the wretch Laflin to defraud me of my property.Thank God the beasts have been hounded to their lair. I remember thatupon coming out of the town my hands were filled with letters andpapers, and in getting into my carriage this particular package droppedinto the road and I ordered Ned to pick it up, and I doubt not thatwhile I was busy reading Ned did not care to interrupt me, and put itinto his pocket, and thinking it of no value, forgot to give it to me. Ifeel now like falling down upon my knees and thanking the great God ofheaven and earth for this, His especial providence and mercy."
It is said that in one of the beautiful isles in the southernPacific--the land of the mango and pineapple, where the air isperpetually perfumed by the aroma of flowers; where the birds of everyplume and every voice, like animated pictures in gold and emerald andcarmine, flit in and out of whispering branches; where pellucid watersripple along, their voices keyed to song and laughter--that the peopleare bestial and barbaric. They distil from a gum that exudes from one oftheir umbrella-top trees an intoxicant that bestializes the man, womanand child who drinks it, and he or she will run a-muck, ferocious intemper, devilish in spirit, and betraying a morbid desire to destroywhoever or whatever they may encounter. Here in these full grown yearsof nineteenth-century civilization, amid Christian churches andministers; amid ten thousand object lessons suggesting the vanity ofhuman pursuits originating in wrong; the eternity of God's punishments;the certainty and swiftness of His retributions--the black, defiled,distorted genius of reconstruction was running a-muck, drinking from abrazen chalice the sweetened liquor.
The Broken Sword; Or, A Pictorial Page in Reconstruction Page 18
