Red Rock: A Chronicle of Reconstruction

by Thomas Nelson Page

  CHAPTER VIII

  MR. HIRAM STILL TELLS HOW TO BRIDLE A SHY HORSE, AND CAPTAIN ALLEN LAYSDOWN HIS HOE

  So Peace spread her white wings, extending her serenity and sheddingher sweetness even in those regions where war had passed along.

  Without wasting time or repining about the past, Dr. Cary and GeneralLegaie and the other men began to pick up such of the tangled andbroken threads of the old life as could be found, and to form with themthe new. They mended the worn vehicles, patched up the old harnessand gear, broke their war-horses to drive, and set in to live bravelyand cheerfully, in as nearly the old manner as they could. They had,they believed, made the greatest fight on record. They had not onlymaintained, but had increased, the renown of their race for militaryachievement—the reputation which they most highly valued. They hadbeen overwhelmed, not whipped; cast down, but not destroyed. They stillhad the old spirit, the unconquerable spirit of their race, and, aboveall, they had the South.

  Dr. Cary determined to use every effort to restore at once the oldstate of affairs, and, to this end, to offer homes and employment toall his old servants.

  Accordingly, he rode down to the county seat one day to have aninterview with the officers there. He went alone, because he did notknow precisely how he would be received, and, besides, there was by nomeans general approval of his course among his friends.

  He found that the ranking officer, Captain Middleton, had been summonedthat morning to the city by Colonel Krafton, the provost in commandthere. The next in command, however, Lieutenant Thurston, was verycivil and obliging to the Doctor, and, on learning of his plans, tooksteps to further them.

  The officer summoned all the negroes who were hanging around thevillage, to assemble on the court-green, told them of the Doctor’soffer, and, after a short talk to them, ordered all the Doctor’s oldservants who were present, and had not secured employment elsewhere, toreturn home and go to work on the wages he had agreed the Doctor shouldpay. For, as he said to Middleton when he returned:

  “By Gad! Larry, I was not sure whether I was talking to Don Quixoteor old Dr. Filgrave—I know he is cousin to them both, for he told meso—he is a cousin to everybody in the United States. And, besides, Iwas so bored with those niggers hanging around, looking pitiful, andthat tall, whispering fellow, Still, who tells about the way he had toact during the war to keep the people from knowing he was on our side,that I would have ordered every nigger in the country to go with theold gentleman if he had wanted them. By the way, he is the father ofthe girl they say is so devilishly pretty, and he asked after you mostparticularly. Ah! Larry, I am a diplomat. I have missed my calling.”And, as he looked at his tall, good-looking superior, the littleLieutenant’s eyes twinkled above the bowl of his pipe, which was muchthe shape of himself.

  The engagement to furnish his negroes rations Dr. Cary was enabled tomake, because on his arrival at the county seat he had fallen in withHiram Still, who had offered to lend him a sum of money, which he saidhe happened to have by him. Hiram had been down to take the oath ofallegiance, he told the Doctor.

  “I been wonderin’ to myself what I was to do with that money—and whatI turned all them Confed notes into gold and greenbacks for,” he said.“Fact is, I thought myself a plum fool for doin’ it; but I says,‘Well, gold’s gold, whichever way it goes.’ So I either bought land orgold. But’t does look’s if Providence had somethin’ to do with it, sure’nough. I ain’t got a bit o’ use for it—you can take it and pay mejust when it’s convenient.”

  Still had never been a favorite with Dr. Cary, though the latterconfessed that he could cite on positive ground for his dislike. Whenhe thought of his antipathy at all, he always traced it back to twothings—one that Legaie always disliked Still, the other that whenStill had his attack of inflammatory rheumatism at the outbreak ofthe war, the symptoms were such as to baffle the Doctor’s science.“That’s a pretty ground for a reasonable man to found an antipathy on,”reflected the Doctor.

  As the Doctor and Hiram rode back together toward home, Still was sobitter in his denunciation of the Federals and of their action touchingthe negroes, that the Doctor actually felt it his duty to lecturehim. They were all one country now, he said, and they should acceptthe result as determined. But Still said, “Never!” He had only takenthe oath of allegiance, he declared, because he had heard he would bearrested unless he did. But he had taken it with a mental reservation.This shocked the Doctor so much that he rebuked him with sternness, onwhich Still explained that he did not mean exactly that, but that hehad heard that if a man took an oath under threats he was absolved fromit.

  “There was some such legal quibble,” the Doctor admitted, with a sniff,but he was “very sure that no brave man would ever take an oath forsuch a reason, and no honest one would ever break one.” He rode offwith his head very high.

  When Still reached home that evening he was in uncommonly good spirits.He was pleasanter than usual to his daughter, who appeared the plainerbecause of the contrast that her shabby clothes presented to theshowy suit which her brother wore. It was to his son, however, thatMr. Still showed his particular good-humor. Wash had just come homefor a little visit from the city, where he had been ever since hisreturn from the army, and where he was now studying medicine. He was atall, slim fellow, very much like his father in appearance, though inplace of the rather good-tempered expression which usually sat on thelatter’s face, Wash’s look was usually sour and discontented.

  “Ah, Wash, my son, I did a good stroke of business for you to-day,”said the father that evening at supper.

  “What was it? Did you buy another farm? You’ll break, buying so muchland,” replied his son, pleasantly.

  Still put aside the ungraciousness of the reply. He was accustomed tohis son’s slurs.

  “Yes and no.” He winked at Virgy, to whom he had already confidedsomething of his stroke of business. He glanced at the door to see thatno one was listening, and dropped his voice to his confidential pitch.“I lent the Doctor a leetle money.” He nodded with satisfaction.

  Wash became interested; but the next instant attempted to appearindifferent.

  “How much? What security did he give?”

  “More than he’ll be able to pay for some time, and the security’s allright. Aha! I thought that would wake you up. I’ll lend him some moreone of these days and then we’ll get the pay—with interest.” He winkedat his son knowingly. “When you’re tryin’ to ketch a shy horse, don’tshow him the bridle; When you’ve got him, then—!” He made a gestureof slipping on a halter. This piece of philosophy appeared to satisfythe young man and to atone for the apparent unwisdom of his father’saction. He got into such a good-humor that he began to talk pleasantlywith his sister and to ask her about the young men in the neighborhood.

  It was striking to see how she changed at the notice her brother tookof her. The listless look disappeared, and her eyes brightened and madeher face appear really interesting.

  Presently the young man said:

  “How’s Lord Jacquelin?” At the unexpected question the blood mountedto the girl’s face, and after an appealing look she dropped her eyesquickly.

  * * * * *

  When the end of the month came, Dr. Cary summoned his hands and paidthem their wages one by one, according to his contract with Thurston,checking each name, as he paid them, on a pay-roll he had prepared.Their reception of the payment varied with the spirit of the men; somebeing gay and facetious; others taking it with exaggerated gravity. Itwas the first time they had ever received stipulated wages for theirservices, and it was an event.

  The Doctor was well satisfied with the result, and went in to make thesame settlement with the house-servants. The first he met was MammyKrenda, and he handed her the amount he had agreed on with Thurstonas a woman’s wages. The old woman took it quietly. This was a relief.Mrs. Cary had been opposed to his paying her anything; she had feltsure that the mammy would feel offended. “Why, she is a member of
thefamily,” she said. “We can’t pay her wages.” The Doctor, however,deemed himself bound by his engagement with Thurston. He had said hewould pay all wages, and he would do so. So when the mammy took themoney with her usual curtsey, in one way the Doctor’s spirits rose,though he was conscious of a little tug at his heart, as if the oldties had somehow been loosened. He rallied, however, at the reflectionthat he could satisfy his wife, at last, that he knew human nature moreprofoundly than she did—a doctrine he had secretly cherished, but hadnever been entirely successful in establishing.

  In this satisfactory state of mind, not wishing to sever entirely thetie with the mammy, as the old woman still stood waiting, he, after amoment, said kindly and with great dignity:

  “Those are your wages, mammy.”

  “My what, sir?” The Doctor was conscious of a certain chilling of theatmosphere. He looked out of the window to avoid her gaze.

  “Your wages—I—ah—have determined—I—think it better from this timeto—ah—.” He had no idea it was so difficult. Why had he not got Mrs.Cary to attend to this—why had he, indeed, not taken her advice?Pshaw!— He had to face the facts; so he would do it. He summonedcourage and turned and looked at the old woman. She was in the act ofputting the money carefully on the corner of the table by her, and ifthe Doctor had difficulty in meeting her gaze, she had none in lookingat him. Her eyes were fastened on him like two little shining beads.They stuck him like pins. The Doctor felt as he used to feel when ayoung man he went to pay his addresses to his wife—he was consciousthat whenever he met Krenda she was inspecting him, searching hisinmost soul—looking through and through him. He had to assert himself.

  “You see, I promised the Federal officer at the court-house to payeveryone wages,” he began with an effort, looking at the old woman.

  “How much does you pay _Miss Bessie_?”

  “How much what?”

  “_Wages._” He had no idea one word could convey so much contempt.

  “Why, nothing—of course—”

  Old Krenda lifted her head.

  “I’m gwine ’way.”

  “What!”

  “I’m feared you’ll charge me _bode_!” She had expanded. “I ken gita little house somewheres, I reckon—or I ken go to th’ city andnuss—chillun.”

  “Mammy—you don’t understand—” The Doctor was never in such a dilemma.If his wife would only come in! What a fool he was, not to have knownthat his wife knew more about it than he did.

  “Won’t you accept the money as a gift from me?” he said at last,desperately.

  “Nor—I ain’ gwine _tetch_ it!” The gesture was even more final thanthe tone. With a sniff, she turned and walked out, leaving the Doctorfeeling like a school-boy.

  He rose after a few minutes and went to his wife’s room to get her tomake his peace. The door was shut, but he opened it. The scene withinwas one that remained with him through life. His wife was weeping, andthe mammy and Blair were in each other’s arms. The only words he heardwere from the mammy.

  “Ef jest my _ole marster_ could come back. He’d know I didn’ do it forno wages.”

  “Oh! mammy, _he_ knows it too!”

  The Doctor was never conscious of being so much alone in his life, andit took some time to make his peace.

  In the same way that the old planters and landowners set in to restorethe old places, the younger men also went to work. Necessity is a goodspur and pride is another.

  Stamper, with Delia Dove “for overseer,” as he said, was alreadybeginning to make an impression on his little place. As he had “kepther from having an overseer,” he said, the best thing he could do wasto “let her be one.”

  “Talk about th’ slaves bein’ free, Mr. Jack! they won’t all be freelong’s Delia Dove’s got me on her place.” The little Sergeant’s chuckleshowed how truly he enjoyed that servitude. “She owns me, but shetreats me well,” he laughed.

  The Stamper place, amid its locusts and apple-trees, with its hippedroof and dormer-windows, small as it was, was as old as Red Rock—atleast as the new mansion, with its imposing porticoes and extendedwings, built around the big fireplace of the old house—and littleAndy, though being somewhat taciturn he never said anything aboutit, was as proud of this fact as he was of being himself rather thanHiram Still. He had got an old army wagon from somewhere and was nowbeginning his farming operations in earnest. It had had “U. S.” on it,but though Andy insisted that the letters stood for “_US_,” not for theUnited States, Delia Dove had declined to ride in the vehicle as longas it had such characters stamped on it. As Mrs. Stamper was obdurate,Andy finally was forced to save her sensibilities, which he did bysubstituting “D” for “U.” This, he said, would stand either for “DeliaStamper,” or “D—d States.”

  Jacquelin Gray was almost the only one of the men who was not able togo to work. His wound showed a tendency to break out afresh.

  Steve Allen intended to practise law as soon as matters settledthemselves. As yet, however, he could not engage in any profession. Hehad not yet determined to take the oath of allegiance. Meantime, tothe great happiness of his cousins, especially of Miss Thomasia, hedeferred going to the county seat and, moved by the grassy appearanceof the once beautifully cultivated fields of Red Rock, began farming.Perhaps, it was sheer pride and dislike of meeting Middleton at thecourt-house under circumstances so different from those under whichthey had met last; perhaps it was the pleasure of being near Birdwoodthat kept him. It was very pleasant when his day’s work was done, todon his old gray jacket, play gentleman once more, and ride acrossthe river of an evening; lounge on the grass under the big trees atBirdwood, and tease Blair Cary about Jacquelin, until her eyes flashed,and she let out at him, as he used to say, “like a newly bridledfilly.” So he hitched his war-horses, Hotspur and Kate, to ploughs andploughed day by day, while he made his boy, Jerry, plough furrow forfurrow near him, under promise of half of his share of their crop ifhe kept up, and of the worst “lambing” he had ever had in his life ifhe did not. Jerry was a long, slim, young negro, as black as tar. Hewas the grandson of old Peggy, Steve’s mammy, and had come from the farSouth. Where Steve had got him during the war no one knew except Steveand Jerry themselves. Steve said he found him hanging to a tree andcut him down because he wanted the rope; but that if he had known Jerryas well then as he did afterward, he would have left him hanging. Atthis explanation, Jerry always grinned, exhibiting two rows of whiteteeth which looked like corn from a full ear. Jerry was a drunkard,a liar, and a thief. But one thing was certain: he adored Steve, whoin return for that virtue bore delinquencies which no one else in theworld would have tolerated. Jerry had one other trait which recommendedhim to his master: he was as brave as a lion; he would not have beenafraid of the devil himself unless he had taken on the shape of Mr.Stevenson Allen, of whom alone Jerry stood in wholesome awe.

  Steve’s bucolic operations came somewhat suddenly to an end. Oneevening, after a hard day’s work, he met Wash Still dressed up anddriving a new buggy, turning in at Dr. Cary’s gate. He was “going toconsult Dr. Cary about a case,” he said. Next day, as Steve was workingin the field, he saw Wash driving down the hill from the manager’shouse with the same well-appointed rig. Steve stopped in the row andlooked at him as he drove past. Just then Jerry came up. His eyefollowed his master’s, and his face took on an expression of scorn.

  “Umph! things is tunned sort o’ upside down,” he grunted. “Overseer’sson drivin’ buggy, and gent’mens in de fiel’.” Steve smiled at Jerry’suse of the plural. The next moment Hiram Still rode down the hill, andturning his horse in Steve’s direction came across the field.

  “He sutney don’ like you, Cun’l,” said Jerry, “an’ he don’ like theCap’n neider;” by which last, he designated Jacquelin. Jerry alwaysgave military titles to those he liked—the highest to Steve, ofcourse. “He say it do him good to see you wuckin’ in the fiel’ like anigger, and some day he hope to set in de gret-house and see you doin’it.”

  St
ill passed quite close to Captain Allen, and as he did so, reined inhis horse, and sat looking down at Steve, as he came to the end of hisrow.

  “We all have to come to it, at last, Captain,” he said.

  Whether it was his words, and the look on his face, or whether Stevehad intended anyhow to do what he did, he straightened up, and shot aglance at the Manager.

  “You think so? Well, you are mistaken.” He raised his hoe and stuck itin the ground up to the eye.

  “There,” he said to Still, in a tone of command, “take that home.That’s the last time I’ll ever touch a hoe as long as I live. I’vebrains enough to make my living by them, and if I haven’t, I mean tostarve!” He walked past the overseer with his head so straight, thatStill began to explain that he had meant no offence. But Steve took nofurther notice of him.

  “Jerry, you can keep on; I’ll see that you get your part of the crop.”

  “Nor—I ain’t gwine to hit anur lick, nurr—I’ll starve wid yer.” AndJerry lifted his hoe and drove it into the ground; looked at Stillsuperciliously, and followed his master with as near an imitation ofhis manner and gait as he could achieve.

  It was only when Steve was out of hearing, that Still’s look changed.He clenched his fist, and shook it after the young man.

  “I’ll bring you to it yet,” he growled.

  That evening Steve announced his intention of beginning immediately thepractice of his profession.